Diego was up before the sun. His eyes fell from the dim gold coloring the sky outside the window to the floor, grateful and uneasy all at once as the faint hint of sunlight crept its way across the wood boards towards his already boot clad feet. He'd tossed and turned all night with his thoughts before finally getting up and dressing in the dark, then had paced the small space between the bed and window in his impatience and indecision before finally sitting back down on the bed with a weary sigh. Diego continued to stare down at his feet, trying to ignore the uncertainty clenching in his stomach. His confliction over his actions last night had refused to relent enough for him to sleep, and it had only grown stronger as the first sliver of the sun appeared over the hill outside his window.
Diego rubbed his palm slowly and thoughtfully over his stubbled jaw, trying to get his mind to focus through the remaining haze of grief and exhaustion that enveloped him like a shroud. So much had happened last night, many of its events bringing changes he'd neither been prepared for or expected. In his time as Zorro he'd come to expect the unexpected, to be able to steady himself, regain his self control and move forward no matter what he faced. Diego's hand went still before slowly falling to his lap. But last night, his self control had been elusive and unpredictable, allowing him stay self-restrained and calm one moment, but in the next... He shook his head and rested his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers together with a thoughtful and discomforted expression. In those other moments, it was if he'd possessed little to no self control at all.
He sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair. He knew there had been good reason for his self control to be shaky last night. He paused, his eyes closing against the memory of his friend's pale and pain wracked body crumpled in the church pew as he'd breathed his last, before he... He swallowed back the thought, pausing to steady himself before the words slipped through his mind again. Before he died. Sir Edmond is dead. The same sharp, slicing pain of grief cut through him again, and Diego bowed his head, inhaling deeply as he waited for the constriction in his throat to dissipate. It all still seemed so surreal to him, Edmond being gone. He'd lost someone who had taught him so much, had given him so much, and had been a true friend. Edmond had always brought out the best in him, and how to find the best in himself.
The best in myself... Diego's eyes went to his tattered, blood stained shirt that lay over the chair next to the bed. He'd done his best last night for his friend, but it had not been enough. Edmond's blood being spilled had seemed to spill out something in him as well. A justifiable anger, to be sure, but it also brought out recklessness in him that he'd not known in a long time. It harkened him back to one of the earliest lessons Edmond had taught him, one that had been playing through his mind for much of the night. Diego had been in a heated debate with a rather closed minded fellow classmate that day at the university before his usual lesson with Sir Edmond. The debate had thrown off and distracted his focus, and Edmond had disarmed him easily after a poorly executed compound riposte, and had leveled his pupil with a wise and knowing look. Untempered anger, hate, rage - they all cloud our judgment, Diego, his master had chastised him calmly. We cannot block out our emotions, nor should we, because they drive us to take action against injustice, both in our own lives and in the lives of those around us. But if we allow our emotions to rule us, then the battles we face will be lost even before we begin.
Diego smiled faintly at the memory's tinge of bittersweet irony. Edmond had taught Diego to temper his passionate nature, and Diego had taken this first of his master's many lessons to heart, disciplining himself to keep a clear and cool head so as to not cloud his judgment. But a clear and cool head was not always so easily kept, even with all the chaos and battles he'd faced as Zorro. And it hadn't been a battle that had toppled his self control last night - at least, not one that had been fought with a sword.
Diego's eyes slid to the door, imagining Victoria standing there. He could see her watching him as she had last night, the candlelight illuminating her face and warming her beautiful skin and eyes. Diego inhaled deeply against the sweetly torturous onslaught of memories of the stolen moments they'd shared last night. He'd allowed himself to mourn Edmond in the quiet of the sanctuary, and had been able to steel himself for what he knew would await him outside the church's doors. He'd been prepared for the standoff it took to prevent Figueroa and the alcalde from claiming Edmond's body, and for the numbness he'd allowed to overtake him afterward as he'd followed Victoria into the tavern. But the one thing he hadn't been prepared for, even in the wake of the comfort from Mendoza and his father, was her.
You're my friend... that's all I needed to know. Diego paused at the memory of Victoria's simple and straightforward answer when he'd thanked her for her help with Sir Edmond. Her trust and loyalty to him as his friend was surprising, but yet somehow not unexpected. The bittersweet ache her response had triggered in him came surging back again, and he quickly rose from the bed and stepped to the window, trying again to push it away. He'd been physically close to Victoria as Diego before many times, had touched her before without...
His jaw went tight, his eyes closing against the ache as it grew. It had been unnerving just how easily he'd allowed his self control to slip last night with Victoria. Before last night, he'd been convinced he'd disciplined himself with greater restraint around her without his mask. But when she'd broken through his defenses so effortlessly with her gentle, caring words and touches, she'd proven just how truly tenuous his self control with her was. He'd never doubted Victoria would offer comfort and support to him following his loss, but she'd set his senses off balance by the breathtaking tenderness and intimacy in her touches and words... and the unexpected glow of want and anticipation in her beautiful dark eyes when he'd allowed his gaze to dip to her mouth. The memory made the ache in him coil tighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut, working to banish the feeling and clear his thoughts. He was right - Diego had never experienced those things from her before, he reminded himself. That look in her eyes had only existed for Zorro before last night.
Diego looked up, noticing his own reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. His unmasked reflection. His eyes dropped to his hands with a long, weary sigh. He'd wanted to believe in what he'd seen in her last night, that the look in her eyes had been about more than just comforting a friend. But he'd clung to such hopes in the past, only to have them dashed by a single dreamy look or declaration of love from her about Zorro.
His mouth twisted in a half hearted, irony laced smile. Zorro. He hated to admit it, but at times, he'd come to envy his own creation. Zorro was an elusive entity, a phantom that was free to be and do what Diego was not and could not. At times, his frequent metamorphoses from Diego into Zorro had begun to make him feel as if he truly were two different men. Edmond's brief reappearance in his life had helped to build a fragile bridge between the two sides of him, but that bridge had seemed to dissolve in the wake of the tenderness that had passed between he and Victoria last night - and the confusion that closeness had brought with it had only seemed to widen the gulf between Diego and his alter ego. As Zorro, he'd been able to be close to Victoria, touch her and declare his feelings without fear of discovery. Behind his mask, he was able to love and protect Victoria in a way that he couldn't without it, and that irony had never stung more sharply than it had with her so close to him last night.
His thoughts drifted back to Victoria standing in the moonlight on the porch, her hair swirling around her face in the late evening breeze. His fingertips moved again over his palm, trying to banish the still potent memory of her soft skin against them from when he'd brushed her dark curls back from her cheek. It had been a forbidden touch, one he'd been unable to resist. The warmth of her skin under his fingers and the strong pulse thrumming just below her jaw had drawn him out of his numbed state, the feel of life moving through her veins reawakening him and his long denied craving for her, luring him closer like some withered soul staggering toward an oasis in the desert.
Diego swallowed hard as memories, old and new, washed over him. His craving for her had been there in him for a long time, he knew, carefully restrained just under the surface of the charade he had chosen to play when he'd put on Zorro's mask. He'd felt it since that first day he'd seen her again in the tavern after his return from Madrid. The lovely young girl he'd remembered from when they were children had grown into a fiery and beautiful woman, one that had captured his heart from the moment their eyes had met. As Diego, he'd had to push aside his feelings, his want for her so many times since that day. But last night... Last night, he'd been unable to resist the impulse to touch her, to draw closer to her than he knew he should.
Diego took in an unsteady breath at the thought. In all truth, last night, he'd wanted so much more than just to be close to her, more than just one simple touch he'd allowed himself. He'd wanted to take her in his arms and feel her every curve melt against him, to kiss her beautiful mouth until neither one of them could breathe. He'd wanted to let her warmth and life soak into him, wanted to get lost in her in a way he'd only been able to in the most vivid of his dreams.
Diego scrubbed a hand over his face to clear his thoughts before raking his fingers through his hair for the millionth time in frustration. He'd nearly let his need to feel a connection, a tethering back to life after losing Edmond override his better judgment. He'd been on the brink of losing control, and he'd been disgusted with himself for it. How could he even consider taking such advantage of Victoria in that way, the woman he claimed to love? She'd been offering care and solace for him in the wake of his loss, and he'd gotten lost in thoughts of his own desires. He'd told Edmond that night in the garden that there were complications standing in the way of him courting and marrying Victoria. Complications somehow seemed like too mild a word after what had passed between him and Victoria last night.
He shook his head, a faint huff of laughter escaping him. Edmond would probably have told him to damn the consequences and follow his heart, and that any consequences could be dealt with afterward. Diego quickly sobered. But he and his father had run headlong with Edmond to face the consequences of his actions - and their boldness had ultimately cost Sir Edmond his life. He'd thought they had been prepared enough to deal with whatever was to come, but they'd been gravely wrong. Diego stared back out across the plaza. He couldn't afford to make that same mistake or be that reckless again, irregardless of how much he wanted to be with Victoria. Life held risk and danger, something he knew full well. But he wouldn't risk unleashing a danger that was within his power to prevent. And if keeping Victoria safe meant keeping his distance... He squared his shoulders resolutely. He wouldn't lose her as he'd lost Edmond. He couldn't.
Diego looked again towards the window, watching the faint amber glow of the rising sun continue to brighten, the colors stacking the sky through the opening in the bell tower of the mission. If they'd only had more time, perhaps he could have found some way to save Edmond, to clear his name and get the false charges against him dropped. And then perhaps his friend could have created a new life for himself here in Los Angeles, and could have found someone to share his life and adventures with as he'd wanted. He released a long, regretful sigh. If only...
He turned back to the room, crossing to the bed in two long, determined strides. He needed to leave now before Victoria woke up. If he didn't, he wasn't sure that he could stand by the decision he'd made this morning as he'd watched the moon disappear from the sky. He couldn't see her, not when he was running on no sleep and was still reeling from Sir Edmond's death. Not when all he could seem to think about this morning was being close to her again, and letting her gentle voice soothe over his frayed nerves as it had as they'd talked last night. If he stayed, and impulse overtook him again... He lifted his chin resolutely. Staying to see her would surely be his and Zorro's undoing.
Diego smoothed a hand over the hastily made bed, the movement unleashing the fresh, clean scent of the sheets. They smelled like her, he thought. It was the same scent of fresh air, soap and sunshine that had beckoned his senses when he'd stood close to her last night. His fingers curled into fists away from the bed linens, his knuckles going white. This was your choice, he repeated to himself again. This is the way you told yourself it had to be to keep her safe, to keep them all safe. Diego fought to hold onto reason even as the ache in his chest grew, threatening to overrun his logic. You have to protect her, and do what is necessary to keep her safe - no matter what.
Diego quickly stood and collected his belongings, giving one last glance around the room, sweeping up the note he'd written for his father earlier from the bedside table. He closed the door behind him, then paused outside his father's room, which was still dark and quiet. He glanced down at the carefully folded paper in his hands. The note explained Diego's intentions to say a private farewell to Edmond with the padre before taking some time alone. Though committed to his decided plan, Diego swallowed back against the bitter tinge of regret on his tongue. His father would no doubt see him as a coward once he read the note, as he mistakenly had so many times before with his frequent excuses when Zorro was needed. Diego felt a fist close around his heart. However, this time, there would be a decided difference from all the instances that had come before. No matter how justified Diego saw his actions as now, this time, his father would be right.
He quickly pushed the note under his father's door, then paused briefly at Victoria's room, giving her door one last longing glance before nearly forcing himself to continue down the stairs. He was being a coward, sneaking away like this, especially in light of the courage and kindness she'd shown on his behalf last night. He so wanted to stay, to see her smile and talk with her, to see if she would still have the same look in her eyes for him that she'd had last night.
Diego mentally shook himself at the thought. What he needed was time. He knew he couldn't and wouldn't stay away from her forever, but he could stay away until he could get himself and his emotions back under control. He'd been able to find contentment with being Victoria's friend before, and would be able to do so again. She may like Diego as her friend, may have even felt a passing moment of connection with him last night. However, her actions and words in the many days before last night left him with no doubt that it was still Zorro who held her heart. Diego paused at the landing at the bottom of the stairs, trying to ignore the sinking resignation filling his heart. He would bring her masked hero back to her again soon enough, and then things would return to the way they had been before.
He paused at the front doors, carefully undoing the deadbolt. Thankfully, Felipe had brought Esperanza and Dulcinea into town for him and his father last night. He would be able to collect his mare from the stables after meeting with the padre and get out of town before anyone else woke up. He pulled back the doors, the unexpectedly chilled morning air curling around him. The cold air unleashed a fresh pang of guilt, and Diego's eyes rose again to the railing outside her room. "Please forgive my cowardice, querida," he whispered into the quiet, inhaling sharply as the memory of her floated through his mind once again. "But if I can't trust myself around you, you're not safe, and I love you too much to endanger your life." He glanced across the plaza to the church, remembering his last few moments with Sir Edmond there, and he swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "I can't lose you, too." Diego glanced behind him around the vacant dining hall, imagining her moving gracefully about busy tables and giving welcoming smiles to her customers. The smile that touched his lips was bittersweet. "I'll miss you."
With that, Diego stepped outside, the doors creaking softly shut behind him.