I'm sorry for the awful pun (but i'm not really). I'm not sure how long this story is going to be, so i'm just going to do whatever and see what happens. It looks like it's going to be mainly focusing on Joaquin gettin himself back together and me trying to work out how to write a Poly ship properly. I hope it's not too bad so far! I know there are a couple of spelling mistakes- because i get lazy at three in the morning when i usually write these chapters whoops.

When the burning heat of the midday blaze had cooled to a tolerable level, the tireless work started up again in the gradually lengthening shadow of the belltower. Joaquin had been reluctant to put an end to their nostalgic romp about town, racing down cobbled streets that would have been almost identical to those in his memories of childhood, had it not been for the lingering cracks and newest scars that marred the ground and walls, leaping over the bales of hay outside the stables and all three of them dragging each other to the ground to wrestle and play fight like they used to. He could still pin Manolo down with one hand, he had been pleased to discover, but then again, Manolo could still fight dirty, and the set of bruises around his wrist where teeth had clamped down were beginning to purple.

However, there was still work to be done, and daylight to do it by, so he slipped his hands quietly out of theirs and resumed his self-appointed role as heavy-lifter. This had him jogging back and forth across the courtyard and churchgrounds, rushing wherever his strength was needed most urgently, and hauling away huge chunks of brick and mortar, heavy wooden support beams that had fallen with the belltower, and at one point, sprinting from the other side of the courtyard and vaulting over a pile of rubble to catch one of the Sisters as she toppled from the scaffolding. True, she wasn't falling from a great height, but he had saved her a nasty fall, and been rewarded with a laugh and a kiss on the forehead. ("There he is! Joaquin, the Hero of San Angel- You are a good boy.")

After that, he'd had to quickly duck around the back of the church and sit for a while, as the pain in his empty eye socket had intensified to an almost sickening level, and his vision had become so splotchy in his one good eye that he was almost blind.
There he sat now, digging his fingers into the cool dirt in the shade with his head between his knees, breathing with a deliberate slowness. His look of forced calm was ruined by the tension that was clear in his shoulders, and the way that he was blinking rapidly as he panicked, trying to clear the spots from his vision.

He knew it was temporary, but the irrational fear that he was going to lose the other eye too was overpowering his logic, and it was taking all he had left to sit quietly and sweat, rather than scream and yell for someone to please, please help, i'm going blind, i can't see anything, i can't fucking SEE!

His fingers twisted into fists in the dirt as he struggled to reign in his terror. He took a deep breath. And then another.

He closed his eye and raised his head slowly. He was okay. He would be perfectly fine in just a moment. Just wait.

After a few minutes, he let his eye open, and let his muscles relax when the world he saw was clear and as vibrant as always in the golden glow of the afternoon. His socket ached.

He wouldn't be able to to much else today. The thought sat uncomfortably in his chest, winding his stomach into a tight knot of disappointment, and shame.
He used to be able to ride into battle, alone, into a hoard of vicious banditos and come out victorious and unscathed, holding his head high like it was nothing and flashing a glowing smile. He should have been able to repair the whole damned town singlehandedly if he really tried. But now he couldn't run across a yard without needing to rest like an invalid-and his brilliant smile was down one tooth.

"Ah, but that only makes it all the more charming!" Maria's words from earlier in the day came back to him suddenly, paired with the memory of her small hands resting on his cheeks as he grinned down at her, poking his tongue out through the gap behind his left canine.
Manolo had laughed and slung his arm around Joaquin's waist, the other flung wide as if presenting him to an invisible audience.
"Yes, Joaquin the Great- most roguish grin in all of Mexico. Women will flock from miles around- OW! Maria!"

Joaquin couldn't help but smile as he poked at the gum with his tongue, the coppery taste lingering. Maybe he should get a gold one to replace it?

At least teeth were easily replaced.

A slightly chilled breeze brushing over his bare chest snapped him out of his thoughts as goosebumps flourished up his arms. The brassy sky was rapidly bleeding into a warm, smoky grey, and the air had cooled to a mild warmth. It was time to head back to the Square to collect his shirt, and maybe wrangle a bit of supper from the Sisters.

He unfolded his limbs and rose, stretching his aching muscles with a long sigh of relief. It felt so good to stretch- and the soreness in his body reminded him that he was useful still. He had earned a good, long sleep.

He could hear Manolo and Maria both calling his name as he stepped out from behind the church, making a beeline for the shorter figures who stood by the entrance, obviously looking for him. Manolo had his back to him and was still scanning the area for his much taller friend when Joaquin waved and caught Maria's attention. She tugged on her husband's ponytail with a wicked smirk, and they both laughed as Manolo spun round in indignation, mouth open to protest, before a wide smile interrupted his complaints at the sight of Joaquin.

"Joaquin! Good, listen, Maria and I were thinking-" he broke off suddenly in the distracted way that he often did and squinted at the other in he dusky light.
"Wait, where have you been? We kind of lost you after a bit."
Before he could even reply, Maria leapt in.
"You should stay at Manolo's house with us, Joaquin." Her eyes glittered and her hand grasped Manolo's, before the other reached out to him.

Taken aback by the sudden invitation, and the imploring looks he was receiving from the two, all he did for a silent moment was stare at Maria's outstretched hand as if it had reached out and slapped him across the face, before finding his voice.

"I don't...uh- don't think-" he stammered, floundering in uncertain territory. He couldn't outright refuse, as the last thing he wanted was to offend the two people he cared about most in the world, but at the same time...he had a bed of his own in his old house, and the thought of being a burden made the knot in his stomach twist tighter.
Manolo seemed to understand his hesitation, and as Maria let her hand drop with a sigh and a roll of her eyes he stepped forward a gripped Joaquin's right shoulder firmly, meeting his gaze with a warm look in his eyes.
"Please stay with us Joaquin, one night at the very least? I've missed you so much while you've been away, we both have. Come on, mi hermano, just like old times?"

Face to face with the famous puppy-dog look, Joaquin's resistance gave like wet paper, and he shook his head in a mock show of exasperation even as arms looped around his waist, and he rested his own on the shoulders of his companions in a loose embrace.
Manolo cheered on his right as Maria laughed on his left, squeezing the Soldier's middle as the trio began to make their way towards the glow of the cookfire in the square to collect the boy's shirts and a bowl of the broth that they could smell in the air. Manolo glanced at him as they walked, and his heart danced in his chest a little at the genuine smile that had grown on his face. It wasn't a smirk or a grin, just a tiny, real smile that seemed to somehow make the shadows under his eyes lighter, and the bruises around the eyepatch disappear, and the boy with the paper moustache and the wooden sword was back, walking beside him happily as they made their way to their next adventure. With a smile of his own, Manolo let his gaze flicker over to catch his wife's, and they shared a long look of satisfaction before something crossed the torero's mind.

"So hey, Joaquin, i never asked you how you got all those medals."

Maria groaned, but leaned in to listen anyway as Joaquin launched enthusiastically into his retelling of his heroic deeds.

They talked long into the night, side by side.