Besides my mother, I doubt anyone in my family would take a bow for me, none the less a bullet. They're traitorous scum who I could definitely do without. Christmas 2000, was playing with a bouncy ball, as was common for an 8 year old. My cousin, I shall call her 'Emily' as that is the little bitches name, pissed the ball, and it went into her fat little puggy face. Of course, this was my fault. Not the little 5 or 6 year old that should learn to catch better for fucks sake.
So my aunts go screaming for my mother to discipline me, which she does. She spanks me, as is customary when a child is perceived as in the wrong. My aunts go hysterical, claiming my mother was beating me. The cops come, and my aunts fiancee or husband or some shit, who I shall call 'Todd' because that is his disgusting vile mouse shit name is, picks me up and tells me I can't see my mother. I was screaming my mothers name.
Luckily, I was severely abused by my father the next Spring physically and emotionally destroyed by him the 9 and a 1/2 years after those events, so the emotional trauma of my family betraying me and my mother is fairly muted.