"Hèctor..." Imelda spoke up as she watched Rosita sharing tea and biscuits with him during the evening.

"Yes?" He asked around a mouthful of food, his large eyes swivelling to hers curiously.

"...You're filthy..." She eyed his ruined clothes that barely held together around his frame, his dusty bones that seemed to have dirt embedded into their surface, his shoeless feet. "You need a bath."

Rosita was giggling lightly beside him as his eyes widened at her brazen words. He opened his mouth to say something but was stopped when she held up her hand. "Ah, if you're going to be in this house you have to be clean." His face twisted strangely at her words, a painful longing in his eyes. Dia de Muertos had been the night before and at sunrise they had dragged his exhausted body back to the Rivera residence for the lack of anywhere else they knew to take him, they had taken care of him over the day and they had talked a little, not enough to establish where they would go from here but enough to get some idea of what had happened the night before.

Maybe she would like him around a little bit more, maybe, she thought idly, she would like him to stay.

But if he was staying he needed a bath.

Without argument she had him standing up and herded him out of the kitchen, leaving Rosita with a pleased knowing look in her eyes. "Do you need help to walk?" She asked, frowning at the way his leg swung apart with each uneasy step.

"Nah, it's fine." He shrugged, following her as she lead him through the hallway.

"Are you sure?"

"It's been like this for years, I'm used to it." His words had no spite behind them, nor was he trying to dig at her, yet it still hurt no matter how nonchalantly he said it or how cheerfully he smiled at her. She tried to look away as she walked on, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by constantly staring at him but even so she could hear his bones rattling and creaking behind her.

Step creak, step creak, step creak, step creak rattle thud.

Her head snapped around to see him leaning heavily against the wall and panting, his fibula hanging out at a odd angle away from the rest of his leg. "Hèctor..." She implored gently and reaching out her hand to him. His eyes were tight in pain when they met hers and he watched her cautiously for a moment, considering, before he took her hand and let her pull him against her, dragging his arm over her shoulders while hers found its way around his ribs to hold him up, his lanky frame near draped over her. With a shake of his leg his fibula snapped back into place though he still limped with every awkward step they took together.

When they at last made it to the bath room Imelda sat him down on the edge of the tub, turning the tap on and watching the bath start to fill with steaming water. She glanced back to him, sitting idly picking at the hole in his right trouser leg. "So... I'll just leave you to it..."

His eyes shot up to her "You can stay!" He spoke before his brain caught up with the words leaving his mouth, leaving him looking shocked with himself. "... Ah … if... if you wanted to? But you must have a lot of important things to do! So never mind? ..." She had a feeling if he had still been alive his face would have been bright red with embarrassment. "Forget I said anything! Haha, I'll be just fine, mmhh..." He cut himself off from his ramblings with a groan as he tried to stand, his hands clutching at his ribs.

He clearly hadn't been well all day, after sleeping in late til the afternoon after they had tucked his unconscious form on the couch under a blanket, then through the rest of the evening he had noticeably been not right, weak and swaying on his feet, face tight in discomfort, they knew despite any attempts to shrug off their concerns. "Perhaps I should stay, goodness knows you'll probably drown yourself if I left you alone." She rolled her eyes in an attempt to ease the situation.

"How would I even..." He started, squinting at her.

She held up a hand to silence him. "Believe me if anyone in the Land of the Dead could find a way, it would be you." She glanced back at the half full tub. "Did you want bubbles?"

He was back fiddling with his trouser leg, pointedly not looking at her. "Yes please"

After she had poured in some sweet smelling bubble bath and the tub was near overflowing with hot water and fluffy foam she looked back at him to find he was staring uncomfortably at her. "... So.. I'll just turn around, I won't look." She spoke as she did so, her spine rigid and eyes locked on the wall in front of her while she listened to the sounds of him rustling out of his clothing then stepping into the bath. It was a bit silly perhaps, they had been married, she had seen him naked so many times in intimacy and there was hardly anything left to see anymore, but it helped both of their shaken nerves.

"Ohh, that is so nice..." Hèctor breathed out a sigh, sinking right down into the tub and she couldn't help but smile at his pleased expression. His eyes slipped close and his head rested back against the tub, his ribs rising with each steady breath as if the void between them wasn't full of water. She observed him for a while and couldn't help but wonder, how long had it been since he had last had a bath? Since he had last relaxed? He seemed just as ragged and worn as his clothes. "Imelda, could you..." His voice faded as his eyes slid open, going from distantly glazed to sharp as the current moment came back to him.

"Could I?" She queried, carefully eyeing him as he shifted nervously.

"Umm..." He fumbled then winced when she shot him a demanding look. "... I … I … was going to ask if you would wash my hair? … Sorry, um, my head was somewhere else … way back"

She was about to refuse him, to snap at him that had been too long ago but instead her shoulders sagged a little. "You always did like it when I washed your hair." She sighed, reaching for a bottle of shampoo and coming to perch herself on the edge of the tub. "You were always such a baby." Her hands followed old remembered movements, wetting his hair then working the shampoo through his hair, it feeling rougher than she expected.

During their time together in life Héctor did always enjoy being pampered, he liked to be taken care of as much as he liked caring for others. It was one of the things that set him aside from the more masculine manly men in town, Real Men, brutes like Ernesto would call them, Héctor had always been smaller and a lot frailer, he was prone to sickness and she had spent many days and nights nursing him through another round of fevers or a upset stomach.

He gave a happy hum under her hands, his head pressed back into her. She couldn't press her fingers into his scalp like she could before but he still seemed just as appreciative when her bones dragged along his skull, moving down to kneed at his temples lightly. "Gracias, that was wonderful." He spoke gently after she rinsed his hair clean, giving her a quick fragile smile over his shoulder before his eyes were darting away again, focused on scrubbing out dirt from his carpal bones.

Eventually when they had both deemed he was sufficiently clean he stepped out into her arms as she held out a large fluffy and warm towel ready, bundling him up and patting him dry. With a light knock at the door she cracked it open just enough to see a grinning Felipe offering her a pair of his own pyjamas, Oscar with a matching grin peering over his shoulder and she thanked them quietly before sending them on their way. Héctor was taller than the twins, the flannel trousers a little high around his ankles when he pulled them on but the fit was good enough for now. Imelda eyed the damp duck tape beginning to peel from his ulna as he pulled the sleeves down, adding a mental note to have his fractures properly supported and wrapped sometime soon but for the moment Héctor seemed to be dozing on his feet and didn't give any protest when her arm wrapped itself around him and lead him out of the bathroom.

They had placed him on a couch when they had first dragged him in through their door and where he had spent most of the day yet she found herself naturally heading towards her own bedroom.

"I-Imelda?" His voice was so fragile, his eyes darting about near frightened when she took him in and pulled him towards her bed.

"Shhh, just get in the bed." She murmured, pulling back the sheets and directing him to lay down, curled and somehow small looking despite his ridiculously long body, his exhausted eyes cautiously watching her as she came to sit on the other side of the bed.

"Is this alright? … Shouldn't we … talk or something about all of this?" He yawned even as he spoke.

With a soft smile she tugged the sheets over his shoulders, her fingers brushing his still damp hair away from his face. "We'll talk tomorrow when you're feeling better, just rest now."

He hummed, his face snuggling further into her soft pillows. "Good night, Imelda." He breathed, his eyes closed and was asleep almost instantly.

Yes, she thought watching him, maybe she would like him to stay.