Alejandro's Answer

Dr Hernandez arrived in the middle of the night, fetched by a nervous Felipe. He examined Diego, commented on and examined the bladder system device and stayed the night to observe his patient in sleep.

In the morning he was approached by Alejandro, and as they were served coffee in the library, he voiced his concerns.

"Diego has a serious concussion, but we already knew that," the doctor said softly. "The gash on his shoulder is inflamed from all that running about in the hacienda on his wedding day, but that is understandable."

"He is so pale, so weak."

"Alejandro, he shouldn't have been able to run around the hacienda in that fashion," Hernandez said, drinking some coffee. "It is inexplicable to me how it was possible for him in that state to achieve all that he did."

Alejandro took a drink of his coffee. It would amaze the doctor even more if he realised just what else Diego had been capable of that day - riding the stallion out to the tavern, scaling walls, and riding the stallion out to the bandits' camp and back…not to mention the ideas that had run through the boy's head.

"Will he be alright, Hernandez?" Alejandro said softly. "He couldn't move around like that but he did. What has that done to his condition?"

"It may take longer to recover from the shoulder wound. The concussion is still very serious. I will give him sleeping powders, and you must make him take them this time," Hernandez said sternly. "Don't pander to your boy, think of him as being delirious, and you may hit close to the mark," the doctor added.

Alejandro stared at the roses in the garden for a moment.

"I would like to examine you as well. Last week, you were ill. After all this upheaval and distress, it may have affected your health even more. I am worried about you," Hernandez said softly. The doctor knew his patient well enough to know he wouldn't take kindly to that sort of thing.

"Let me see Diego well, and then we worry about me, Hernandez."

The doctor nodded, and finished his coffee. Alejandro glanced at him and smiled.

"I am an old man. I just saw my son married. Soon I may have a grandchild in my arms. If I die, I die, but don't fuss me," Alejandro said, gently but with determination.

He saw Dr Hernandez off, standing at the front door.

He visited Diego later in the day. Victoria had sat up most of the night with Diego, just watching him. She regularly checked his heart with a small hand against his chest. Her eyes watched the regular rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She dozed off and slept for a few hours at a time, but when anyone suggested her own bed, she shook her head and her eyes filled with determination worthy of any of the de la Vega family for generations.

Alejandro stood in the doorway, and watched his new daughter in law. She had dozed off, and her hand had slipped off Diego's chest. He pulled another chair close to the bed, and placed his own hand on his son's chest. A regular heart beat rewarded him, and the coolness and weight of his hand brought a sigh to his son's breathing.

Blue eyes fluttered open and Diego turned his head to look at him.

"Father," he murmured. Diego reached for his hand, and Alejandro took it. "I'm going to be alright, Father. I promise you. Trust me."

"I trust you, Diego. Go back to sleep. To heal from the concussion you need rest," Alejandro said softly. "Victoria is asleep. I don't want to wake her by talking. So go to sleep, my son. I trust you."

Diego sighed a little and rolled onto his left. Alejandro smiled and repositioned his chair to watch his son as he fell asleep again almost immediately.

Felipe soon took charge of the household, shooing Alejandro to bed, as he deemed him exhausted as well. Alejandro complied, thinking about the doctor's concerns. He did want to see his grandchildren arrive. Victoria was guided gently to bed by Maria and a maid, and Felipe made sure she rested.

Felipe took over the watching of Diego, and was only ousted by Alejandro after he realised the older man had had a few hours' sleep. Felipe put down the book he had been reading and Alejandro saw that it was a medical text book.

"Felipe, you are studying medicine?" Alejandro asked softly. The boy shrugged and pointed to Diego.

"Yes, it's Diego's book, I know. Are you interested in medicine?" Alejandro asked again. "Do you want to be a doctor?"

Felipe looked uncomfortable. He pointed to his mouth and shook his head. "Words might come," Alejandro said gently. "You spoke Felipe, I heard you. You really spoke. You can hear, you are smart," Alejandro tried to encourage the teenager. "You may be able to assist Hernandez one day."

Felipe shook his head vigorously and signed something hastily. Alejandro realised he had made his grandson angry.

"He is saying he doesn't want to be an assistant…he wants to be a doctor…" Diego murmured. A frown swept over Diego's face slowly. "Felipe, you should have told me…"

Felipe shrugged and left the room. "Go after him…"

"No, he's angry. Let him cool down," Alejandro said softly. "He reminds me of you at 17, Diego. He is more your son than you realise. He has a de la Vega spirit in his breast and it makes him anger easily and hold on tight to stubbornness."

Diego watched his father carefully. "Go back to sleep, Diego."

"Can I ask you something first?"

Alejandro shrugged and nodded.

"Would you have killed Brownlow?"

Alejandro paused before he answered. He wasn't sure himself.

"I don't know. I don't have Zorro's compassion for the sanctity of every human life. It is unrealistic to expect that level of compassion from any retired soldier," Alejandro said softly. "I am glad that I took the fight out of Zorro's hands, and yours too. You don't know what the first kill does to your soul, Diego. The first, real, deliberate taking of another's life. I'm not talking of people dying as a result of a fight, or an accidental falling on a knife," he said and glanced at his son. Alejandro knew that Diego was already remembering the death of the Falcon. The man had been a monster. Diego had been the only one to value his life in any way, and had shamed everyone into going to the funeral.

"I am talking about what Zorro was talking about. The deliberate killing of another man, wishing to see his blood staining your sword," Alejandro added. "Shooting down an enemy with a pistol, aiming at him while he is distracted elsewhere." He had been aware of Zorro's pistol in the dark. Alejandro knew his son's intentions had not been good.

"How bad can it be?"

"I still have nightmares about the first man I killed." Diego stiffened at the change in his father's voice and posture. "We were only just a few years older than Felipe. Our troop had been attacked by bandits on the way to the battlefield. My friend had died next to me, and I had to defend myself and the men we had left. That meant a deliberate killing of at least one other man."

"What happened?"

"A bayonet in my hand ended another young man's life." Alejandro wasn't prepared to talk about the details. He wouldn't even consider the details. "I still see that young man in my nightmares, screaming for mercy, even though he never wanted it in reality. It was either him or me in reality. Even though it was in self-defence my soul is darkened by his blood," he said, glancing down at his hands. "And he was the first of hundreds…"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. Get well. Have my beautiful grandchildren. Be happy, Diego." Alejandro stood and walked over to the window. "Soon…"

"Father," Diego said softly. "Are you alright?"

Alejandro pretended he didn't hear him, and concentrated on the brilliant sky outside the window.