Manolo had hoped after the first few nights the nightmares would disperse. If anything they had gotten worse. Sometimes he woke up in such a panic it awoke his wife who would hold him and whisper soothing words. They helped him sleep, of course, but the next day they would return. Despite wanting to feel Maria run her soft fingers through his hair he didn't want to keep waking her. How could that be fair?

They should be expected, after all. One didn't die and return without any kind of side effect. In fact, he was sure there would be more than just the nightmares. Only time would tell what they could be.

On this night, however, he had managed to snap out of it without waking his wife. He did his best to go back to sleep but it was all in vain. The images and sensations were still lingering and he had to resort to slipping out of bed. Perhaps a quick walk would clear his mind. He put on some semi-decent clothing, grabbed his guitar and headed out to the street. What he meant to be a quick stroll down the road turned into a long walk through the town. It was so quiet and when he strummed his guitar he made certain to keep it quiet.

He didn't pay much attention to where he walked. The evening air was cool and pleasant. The light breezes helped wash away any other remaining images. Sometimes he tried to play in tune with the movement of the wind.

When he did look where he was going he found himself in the center of town. The statue of Captain Mondragon stood where it always had, looming like a massive shadow under the moon.

As Manolo's gaze drifted down he saw someone else was there. Taking on a few steps closer he realized it was Joaquín. Who else had shoulders like that?

"And what are you doing out here?" Manolo kept a smile as he moved closer to his friend.

Joaquín turned, surprised for a moment. Then he offered a light smile as his gaze moved back to the statue. "Perhaps the same thing you are."

"What do you mean?" Manolo finally stopped playing as he threw the guitar onto his back.

"Why else would you take a walk at this ungodly hour? Especially if you're sharing a bed with Maria?" Joaquín gave him a playful nudge.

"Maybe I like the night life."

His friend's laugh was loud and deep, but somehow soothing. "What life Manny, no one is out at three in the morning."

"Then why do you think I'm out here?"

Joaquín looked at the ground then and let off a long sigh. "Do you really want to talk about that kind of thing now? You know both of us tend to get far to honest at this hour."

Manolo remembered, when they were younger. Staying up late was sometime the only way they could spend time with one another. It was how they ended up in their first terrible fight. He couldn't even recall exactly what they had said to each other, it seemed so silly now.

"Perhaps that would be good for us." He looked up at the sky and admired the stars.

"See? You're doing it already." Joaquín forced a smile but it fell too quickly. "So what are they about?"

"Huh?"

"Your nightmares, what are they about?"

"How did you know?"

"Come on Manny, even with that medal it wasn't like I never... I mean they would always stop after a few days but they would still pop up now and again."

"I'm sorry, I didn't even think-"

"Not like I gave you the chance to."

"So you had one too, tonight? What happened?"

"Come on now Manny. I'm not telling if you won't." Joaquín was smirking at him but his eyes were gentle.

Manolo sighed, bringing back the memories he had tried to get rid of. "They're about... my death."

"Oh, that."

"I thought they might go away but they just seem to be getting worse and worse."

"Did... did it hurt when you died?"

Manolo tried to look Joaquín in the eye but the taller man turned his head.

"Yes... and no. I mean my ankles stung for sure from that snake." He tried to laugh but stopped. "But after that it was like... floating sort of. But the dreams are worse. They're much more painful and I'm a lot less-"

He stops, realizing what he's about to say. He hadn't told anyone about what really happened under that tree, not yet anyways. How could he possibly look anyone he loved in the eye and explain that it was suicide? Of course at the time it seemed reasonable but looking back...

"A lot less what?" Joaquín pushed.

Well, if there was any time to be honest it was now. "A lot less willing."

There was a pause, a painful one. His fingers itched for him to grab his guitar and strum some notes just to break the silence.

"I knew it." Joaquín's voice cracked and Manolo's heart almost followed.

"Huh?" He tried to play innocent.

"It was suicide, right?" His friend was biting his lip, hard.

"Well... I guess... yes."

Another silence, long and terrifying. What was Joaquín even thinking about right now? What was there to think about? So he had done something stupid, why did it matter now? He was back.

"So, what about your nightmares?" Manolo tried to change the subject.

Joaquín's hands tightened into fists. "What do you think I'm the most afraid of, Manolo?"

The musician wracked his brain over this one. He had never known his friend to show fear toward much of anything. True, it could have just been due to the medal, but even then it didn't offer much in the way of hints.

What could his danger seeking friend possibly be afraid of?

When he couldn't come up with an answer Joaquín spoke again. "You remember that you and Maria died within moments of each other, right?"

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

Manolo's stomach twisted to a point he had to lean over. "W-wait, are you telling me that you're the one who-"

"Yes." Joaquín wrapped his arms around himself. Then, suddenly, he laughed a bit. "You know you were right, back then, I'm not really a hero like my father."

"What?" Manolo shouted and spun around. "Don't listen to that. I only said something like that because... well I was grasping at straws. I wasn't sure how else to insult you, you're too perfect sometimes."

"Aw, why thank you." His confidence had seemed to return as he pulled at his mustache. "But, you were right. You were actually right."

"No I wasn't. Why would you even think that? I'm sorry that I-"

"No, I'm sorry." Joaquín turned at finally met his gaze. "I shouldn't have... told you that you should have died instead of her. I never should have said that."

"I know you didn't mean that, brother. You had every right to be mad at me-"

"I wasn't mad at you." His friend raised his voice. "I was mad at myself. A hero, remember? What kind of hero lets the woman he loves die? What kind of hero lets his best friend die soon after."

"What could you have done? You said it yourself that I committed suicide, right?"

Joaquín paused and hesitated for a moment. His eye was flashing with all sorts of emotions but it finally settled into a glare and he gritted his teeth.

"What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking?" He shouted.

Manolo stepped back in shock. "I just-"

"You weren't thinking at all, were you?" He grabbed Manolo's arms and almost lifted him off the ground. "How could you do that, Manny?"

"I had just lost Maria."

"So did I, and yet somehow the stupid, selfish thought of killing myself never crossed my mind."

"Excuse me? What else did I even have?"

Somehow Joaquín only became more furious. "You had your family, you idiot. Did it not once cross your mind what they would do when they found you dead? Did it not cross your mind what I would do when I found you dead?"

His friend's face soften. Some kind of dam must have broken. "I know I said something horrible but... you had me too. How... how could you just leave me alone?"

Manolo's mouth fell open as Joaquín released him. The man rubbed at his face, clearly trying to suppress tears.

"I-I'm sorry." Manolo sputtered out. His chest felt like it was being crushed. "Y-you're right. That was selfish of me I didn't... I never had any idea."

How had he not realized? Joaquín didn't have a family left. Even being surrounded by adoring fans he and Maria were the only ones he had.

And that morning he had found them both dead.

A Sanchez never apologizes. The words bounced around in his head but only for a moment before he crushed them.

"I'm so sorry Joaquín." He grabbed his friend's shoulder and made him look him in the eye. "Please forgive my foolishness."

"Damn it, Manny, I already have." He was still rubbing at his face but tears were making their way through. "I told you, talking at this hour is always a stupid idea."

Manolo smiled. "You were the one asking about my nightmares."

"I didn't expect them to be about that." Joaquín lowered his hand and rolled his eye.

"Oh, sorry I can't have normal nightmares about Maria's dolls trying to suck out my eyeballs?" He pointed to his eyes as harshly as possible before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Hey, shut up, we were just kids."

As Manolo continued to laugh, however, his friend eventually joined in.

"And listen to me," Manolo nudged his shoulder. "You were more than willing to give up your life to save mine during that battle. I'm sure you would have done it just as willingly if you had been around that tree. Your heart's always been in the right place, really."

Joaquín managed a genuine smile. "Thanks."

Once again the air was left in silence so Manolo just opened his arms slightly and tilted his head.

Joaquín grinned before he wrapped his arms around Manolo, lifting him far off the ground into a bear hug.

Manolo laughed until his friend squeezed him hard enough that he had to gasp for air. It hurt, but he wasn't about to tell him to let go.

"I love you, brother." Joaquín said into his chest. Perhaps he was even crying again.

"I love you too." Manolo managed to say through his crushed ribs.

"Yeesh," came Maria's voice. "I finally find you only to see you both hugging without me."

Joaquín put Manolo down at once. He just smiled at his wife who had her hands on her hips.

"Sorry dear, I didn't want you to wake up."

"It doesn't make me worry any less when I do and you're not around." She stepped over to them. "Oh, Joaquín, were you crying?" Her hand mindlessly strokes his cheek.

"O-oh uh, no, just really tired."

"Liar." She tapped his nose.

He smiled and Maria wrapped an arm around his neck and then one around Manolo's tugging them both into a hug.

"Come on," she said before pulling away. "Let's all go to the house, I'll make some warm tea. It looks like you both could use some."

They both just nodded, following her back down the road. Manolo couldn't stop himself from pulling out his guitar and going back to strumming some quiet notes. At one point Joaquín nudged his shoulder and he returned the gesture.

A talk at three in the morning was just what they needed.