Tick, tock, tick, tock… The small clock on the mantle piece was louder than Alejandro thought possible, as he stirred awake. His eyes rested for a moment on the orange glow of the fireplace, and his hand moved back to Diego's lifeless hand. He automatically checked for a pulse, annoyed with himself for dozing off. Diego's heart beat to the rhythm of the ticking clock, steady and calm. Wake up Diego, Alejandro silently begged. He couldn't bear to look at his son's pale face, too aware of the doctor's grim prediction of a speedy death.

Alejandro sighed and rose from the chair, gently letting his son's hand fall back to the blankets. He hoped to see some sense returning to his son, due to the gentle disturbance. Diego slept on, deeply, unaware of his surroundings.

Alejandro moved to the window overlooking the cottage garden. The full moon lit up the flower beds eerily, as a light snow fall sprinkled down, coating everything in a layer of icy white. How he hated snow now…

"Victoria….please," Diego murmured. Alejandro was back at the bedside in an instant. A hand on Diego's forehead felt the gathering sweat of another fever. Alejandro sighed, and calmly started the tepid sponging again, dipping the cloth into the water once more, and wringing it out to wipe his son's forehead.

Diego tossed his head on the pillow, obviously caught in the middle of another nightmare. "She doesn't know, she doesn't know…"

"Hush, Diego. Everything is alright," Alejandro soothed gently. "I'm here. Easy, Diego."

Zzz

The feeling of despair had hit with full force when a servant arrived at Balgair Castle, telling of a man who had bravely rescued a local lady and who now was lying near death at a small cottage close by. They had no idea who he was, but Alejandro quickly realised through the description of Diego's hair and eyes and general height exactly who he was. Fear and guilt had gripped him as he had raced to the cottage. Shock and disbelief had rocked him to his core as the doctor returned a grim verdict. The fevers were too high, they could not bring them down. Death was near at hand.

That had been two nights ago. With his father's care, he was slowly beating the fevers, and Alejandro drew courage from that realisation. It had been difficult, but Diego's remarkable strength had surprised everyone around him.

Stroking Diego's forehead, as he calmed, he tucked strands of dark hair back into their normal, neat place.

"How is he?" The soft voice made Alejandro glance up. Lady Katherine Thorogood was very young and very beautiful. She looked ill, also affected by the chill of the accident, but was stubborn enough to refuse had mild fevers earlier. The servant had confided in Alejandro that he thought it was because Diego had sheltered her with his own body, warming her at the expense of his own safety. The servants were in awe of his son. They saw him as a hero.

Alejandro was tempted to tell her to go back to bed. It was late, and she wasn't completely recovered. She seemed so worried for Diego, the older man took pity on her.

"This is all my fault," Lady Katherine murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "The river…He can't die. Not like this."

"No, this is my fault," Alejandro said firmly. "He overheard me. I criticised him. I used harsh, angry words….To describe my only son. He'll never fight back, argue with me, defend himself…" He sighed. Diego never would, he realised. The wild storming off was the only time he had truly reacted badly, and he knew he had hurt his son deeply. Alejandro had tried not to over the years, oh…he had tried but not succeeded. Words had spilled out over the years, over and over and over again. Words he hardly meant, but did…

"I want to apologise. I have to have a chance to apologise. I love my son. I am proud of the man he has become, really I am. I just don't understand him."

"He's a hero, Don Alejandro. I will always remember him as the man who saved my life," she murmured.

It seemed she spoke as if about a fallen hero. A dead hero. Alejandro shuddered. He's not dying, he wanted to scream. He held his tongue, nodding slightly. His son was a hero, and they would soon be returning home to the warmth of their estate. Maybe there his son could make a full recovery.