BY : Demonized
Category: +A through F > Far Cry Series
Dragon prints: 97
Disclaimer: I do not own Far Cry 3, nor do I make any money off of this work.

Jason has always suspected that his family is hiding something important from him. Something to do with the fact that he can't remember anything from when he was seven up until he was nearly sixteen. He can remember everything from a few years before he was seven, and everything after he was sixteen isn't a problem either. It is everything in between that is a complete, massive blank spot for him. Strangely enough it hasn't affected everything he had learned in school, so he isn't completely clueless.

The blank in his memories bothers him, so much so that whatever is missing has made him despondent that first year after the blank spot. The only thing he has ever cared about, and has seemed to help, is a small blue dragon plush toy. It is serpentine and about as long as his forearm now, and it is definitely old. His father loathed it's very existence, and Jason figures it had something to do with his missing memories. That idea makes him cling to it even more, as if the toy can tell him everything, and he forms a habit of taking it everywhere with him. That pisses his father off to no end, but his mother had whispered something rather harshly to him one day that has his father laying off of the toy.

Nobody ever ridiculed him for having the dragon plush with him, something he suspects to be Grant's doing. It is like his older brother understands the importance of the silly little toy to him, probably even knows why he is so attached to it. Grant won't tell him anything though, so Jason gives up on trying to find out what it is that he can't remember. He doesn't even bother trying to see if Riley will tell him.

"I wish you could tell me, V." He gently runs his fingers over the soft fur of the dragon, taking care to not rub the old toy too hard otherwise it will start to bald. V, named so because of the bold, black V written on its information tag that is rolled and discolored, remains as silent as ever and just stares back at him with his now dulled glass eyes. "You probably remember everything I don't."

It would be nice if V could tell him, because maybe then he won't feel like he is forgetting something. Twenty-five already and no matter how hard he tries nothing ever comes to him. Father is dead now and, as wrong as it is, Jason feels relieved because of that. V is probably just as relieved, considering there had been many an occasion when father had tried to destroy him.

"Tomorrow's the big day. We're moving in to an apartment in Santa Monica and it'll be just you and me, little guy." Apparently he had lived there before, during the blank in his memory, and it is the only thing his family had let slip to him concerning the past he is desperately trying to piece together. So it only makes sense for him to go back.

Jason strokes the dragon plush a few more times before he carefully sets V onto the motel room nightstand. He stares at the toy for a while, and when sleep finally claims him it is with the hope that he will remember something when he gets to Santa Monica tomorrow.

There isn't really much to do except get up, eat, go to work, come home, get high, eat and then sleep. Maybe even the occasional shower. Life is monotonous, has been ever since he was eighteen. Ever since he had lost the only person who had meant the fucking world to him.

Today is almost the same as any other, only he doesn't have to work. It is one of his rare days off, and he is usually placid as hell but something about today has him restless. Maybe it is the fact that someone has finally taken the apartment across the hall from his. Nah, that's stupid. It has to be from something else.

Still, try as he might, Vaas can't find it in himself to just sit on his ass all day. That restlessness is driving him up the fucking wall. He is nearly ready to storm out of his apartment when there comes a ruckus from the hallway. A thud followed by raucous laughter.

"Give him back!" Someone shrieks, utter terror laced in their voice.

Vaas is curious enough to open his door and glare out into the hallway. He totally does not expect to find a white boy leaning against the wall that divides the hallway from his apartment. Said white boy has a look on his face that matches the terror in the voice from not seconds ago. It also isn't hard to notice that he had tears in his eyes.

"Fuck! You're actually crying over a goddamn toy? Oh, this is fucking rich!" Now there's someone he is familiar with.

"Felipe, what the fuck are you doing?" Vaas snaps, eying his neighbor from down the hall.

"Vaas! You have got to check this out, man!" Felipe waves something at him, too fast for him to see, and it has the white boy repeating his demand at an even higher pitch. Felipe sidesteps the white boy and trips him as he lunges at him, then tosses the thing in question to Vaas. "This little bitch hasn't put it down not even once while he's been moving his shit in."

Vaas reflexively catches the item, which turns out to be a really old plush toy of a serpentine blue dragon. There's something agonizingly familiar about the toy, and he swears that it looks exactly like the one he had when he was younger. The toy is obviously well cared for, even though the information tag is curled up and discolored.

"Give him back, please," the white boy sobs out, like the toy means the damn world to him.

"Jesus fucking Christ! It's just a stupid fucking toy, you stupid little cunt. How fucking old are you?!" Felipe turns to the white boy and threateningly pulls out his switchblade. "I say we cut the goddamn thing into itty bitty pieces and burn it, Vaas. Right in front of his eyes."

Vaas ignores Felipe and gently uncurls the tag to the dragon plush. The bold black letter V on the tag has his blood turning to ice. He's now more acutely aware of the broken sobbing coming from the white boy in the hallway, and the ice quickly turns into a raging fire. "Felipe."

"So, are we gonna do it?" Felipe has a stupid smirk on his face that Vaas suddenly wants to beat in until he is fucking bloody, if not dead. His neighbor takes a good look at him and the smirk disappears. "Vaas?"

"Get the fuck out of here before I fucking gut your stupid ass." Vaas hisses the words out as he leveled his darkest glare toward Felipe. The stupid fucker has enough sense to do as ordered and scampers down the hallway to his own apartment. As soon as Felipe is gone he bolts over to the quivering, sobbing mess of white boy and kneels down in front of him. "Shh, it's okay. Here." Terrified green eyes stare at him, then go down to the dragon plush he's holding out.

The white boy takes the toy so gently and carefully that Vaas is one hundred percent certain he knows who this is. He doesn't say anything, just watches as the toy is carefully inspected and stroked, his heart feeling like it's breaking all over again with each second that passes. There hadn't been any recognition in those eyes, but he knows the toy, and he knows those eyes.

"Thank you." It's whispered so softly that Vaas barely catches it.

"Anything for you, Jason." Those huge green eyes flick back towards him and there's so much confusion in that tear-filled gaze that it hurts.

"H-how do you know my name?"

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