Any other day and Joaquin's words would have made Manolo angry, furious, ready to fight the man that claimed they were brothers, but as Joaquin's words—Yes it should have—echoed in his mind, all Manolo could do was agree with them, hateful though they were. Walking back to his guitar, Manolo picked it up slowly, cradling the instrument in his arms. Maria had given it to him, after all, and how had he repaid her?

Desperately he tried to search through the rain for the cursed snake that had stolen her life, but the light was poor, even with the lightning flashing, and he collapsed to his knees. Maria was dead. He knelt, and stared at the place she had fallen, losing track of time as he shivered. Distantly he realized that he was soaked to the bone, but he didn't care.

"I will never see her again" he whispered, staring at his hands.

"Are you certain?" an old man said, and as Manolo stood up, and turned to stare at him, Xibalba smiled. The god had worried, when he had run into La Muerte, that the foolhardy boy would have left before Xilbalba could extricate himself from his wife without raising her suspicions. The fact that the boy was still there was icing on the cake, as he continued "You want to see Maria again?"

The boy's answer was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Joaquin had wanted to stay with Maria. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, flesh to warm up once more if he held onto her? Breath to quicken in her chest if he prayed hard enough? Her to open her eyes, and smile at him, and tell him everything was alright? But the nuns sent him away; it wouldn't be proper for him to be around whilst they washed her body, and prepared her for viewing. Away he wandered, walking aimlessly through the streets of San Angel, as he thanked the sky for crying with him, so no one would see his tears. Looking up, he stared; without meaning to, he had accidentally wandered to the Casa Sanchez.

Yes it should have

He had said those words to his best friend, his hermano- if Maria had heard them, she'd have…

There were a lot of things she'd have done, and would never do again, because she was dead.

But was it worth it, blaming Manolo? Was it worth it, losing another friend on top of losing Maria? He knocked on the door, and when he heard from Carlos that Manolo wasn't home, he ran, hoping that Manolo wasn't still there with whatever had killed Maria. He hadn't even bothered to find out before blaming Manolo for it, and that made him run faster. Tearing across the bridge, he was glad to see his friend still there, and he hoped that Manolo wouldn't catch sick from being so long caught in the rain, though it had finally stopped.

But there Manolo was, staring at something that Joaquin couldn't quite see. About to call for his friend, he slipped, and cursed the mud the rain had formed. Struggling to get up, he watched in horror as a snake, purple in hue and shining in the first timid rays of sun bit his friend.

Bit Manolo while his friend did nothing to stop it.

Joaquin screamed, as he clawed his way up the slope, as he watched…

As he watched his friend fall.

And all he could do was sink to his knees next to the body, wondering bitterly if it would be worth it to take off his most precious of medals just in case the damned beast returned.