Nurses and doctors bustled through the sterile white corridors while he waited nervously, shifting from foot to foot. He wanted to reach out and stop one of them, but he couldn't move.

"Nurse." It was so hard to make words. "Nurse." His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

One of them stopped. "Just a little longer."

"But it's been twenty years." He managed to stretch his arms towards her, but his fingers brushed against glass. "Can I see her?"

The nurse considered for a few minutes, then nodded. "All right."

"Look, Diego."

Mia slid onto his bed, warm and soft against his aching bones. He leaned his forehead against hers, gazing down at the tiny blue bundle in her arms. A fuzzy, golden head peeped out of the blanket. Tiny paws covered eyes that hadn't opened yet.

"Look what we made."

She looked out towards the sea, and he followed her gaze. A lion jogged easily through the surf, stopping to dip his head under the crashing waves. He shook his mane, and the droplets of water shone like diamonds under the summer sun.

Diego shifted sleepily as the dream faded, his hand straying below his waist. He paused after the first few idle strokes, then explored more slowly, tracing the outline of his morning erection.

Welcome back, amigo. Where've you been all this time?

xxx

"Breaking rocks in the hot sun."

Diego's new discovery hadn't solved all his problems. He couldn't communicate any more clearly with Machi, even if he'd been inclined to borrow other men's lyrics to tell his story. There was a language barrier to overcome, then a generation gap and a geography gap.

"I fought the law, and. The law won."

But just being able to put words in the right order at will made a huge difference to his life.

"I fought the law, and. The law won."

It certainly made work detail go faster.

"My, my, Mondo." Gant played idly with a lock of his hair, directing a predatory smile Diego's way. "A song in your heart? That hot young blond of yours must be making you very happy. Rude of you not to share with the class."

Ten years ago that would've constituted a threat, but not anymore. Diego tossed Gant a smirk and flipped him off.

He found himself humming or singing quietly to himself when he and Machi walked the yard together, the red clay stretching out forever in the growing heat of spring. Machi glanced at him from time to time, a small frown on his face, and Diego realised he was trying to follow the words. It was too bad the boy's English wasn't better. But then, he thought wryly, it was too bad Diego couldn't talk like a normal man, either.

"I hope my leg don't break. Walking on the moon. We could walk forever."

"Walking on the moon."

Diego smirked.

"We could be together –"

"Walking on the moon."

Diego stopped and shook his head.

"No?" Machi asked.

Diego shook his head again. "We could be together," he sang slowly. "Walking on. Walking. On the moon."

Machi nodded thoughtfully, and fell silent as they continued to walk.

xxx

They were in the music room again. Diego had sung practically every song in Machi's music book over the past few weeks. He was flicking idly through it while Machi messed around on the piano.

"Diego," Machi said, "sing something." He reached out and gently covered Diego's hand with his own, closing the music book. "Something not in book. Something that mean something to you."

Diego looked back at him. Machi had a thoughtful, almost troubled expression on his face. Diego frowned, looking at the piano keys.

It had been raining when she walked into the office for the first time, when he'd been smitten with her. He didn't remember all the little details, like you were supposed to – what he'd had for breakfast, the first thing he'd said to her, the first thing she'd said to him, all the crap that made up romantic comedies. But he remembered the song that was playing on the radio.

"Think about it. There must be higher love. Found in the heart or hidden in the stars above. Without it. Life is wasted time. Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine."

He'd never told Mia, but he'd made it their song. It was track one on all the CDs he burned for driving, and evenings in, and making love. He was vaguely aware of Machi chiming in with chords as a flood of memories washed over him – the first time he took her to dinner, the way she bantered and smirked back as she slowly regained her confidence, the first time she'd ever invited him in for coffee and he'd been nervous, so nervous, in a way he hadn't been since he'd lost his virginity. Because he'd always kept a little distance with the women he dated, nothing serious, just sex and fun, but Mia, he knew after only a couple of months that he'd never want anyone else. He wanted her tea paraphernalia competing with his coffee-maker for counter space. He wanted her shoes cluttering up his wardrobe. He wanted to come home and smell her in every corner of his apartment. And when he realised she felt the same way, he got a feeling of freefall as if he was at the top of a rollercoaster right before it plunged towards the earth.

"Bring me a higher love. Bring me a higher love, oh. Bring me a higher love. Where's that higher love I keep thinking of?"

He couldn't any more. Diego broke off before his voice cracked. He rested his head in his good hand and let out a deep, shuddering breath.

"It remind you of your girl," Machi murmured after a few minutes.

Diego nodded.

"And…she gone now."

Diego let go another deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He straightened up and looked away. Machi said nothing, softly hitting chords on the piano.

"You tell me about her someday," he murmured at last. Diego flinched as Machi rested his hand on his knee, then relaxed as Machi patted it gently. "When you get your voice back."

Diego looked at him, and mustered a faint smile.

xxx

The anniversary of Diego's incarceration came and went. Thirteen years of hard time behind him, and who knew how many more ahead. He'd been a convicted murderer for as long as he'd been a defence attorney, a coma patient, and a prosecutor combined. Diego punctuated the observation with a wry smirk. All that school. What a waste.

Prison life continued as usual, the regular clockwork of the daily grind speeding the months along. Things were quiet, the monotony only broken by the occasional semi-infamous new arrival. The gang members largely kept their hands to themselves. Occasionally there was a scuffle in the yard or the mess hall, but it was swiftly broken up by the guards. Some of them got into drug-dealing and smuggling, but it was all small-time – the mob-connected prisoners ran all the important stuff.

Occasionally Diego would see one of Machi's former friends in the yard, but they never acknowledged him. Machi always got quiet whenever he noticed them. Diego didn't blame him. Crescend's death would stay with him for the rest of his life.

In June, Redd White got some bad medical news. By August he was gone – not dead, just transferred, but it was only a matter of time. Whatever it was had been eating him alive for months by the time they found it. Diego shook his head when he heard the news. He had squandered much of his precious time between coma and prison raging that he couldn't take revenge on the man who had taken Mia from him. Now that Mother Nature had poured out her karmic brew, he found it too bitter, even for him. No amount of bad blood would ever make him wish that lingering, painful death on another man.

In September, Furio Tigre disappeared from the block. Various stories flew back and forth, but the one Diego found most credible was that Viola Cadaverini was no longer sweet on him. The old man had never forgiven him for hurting his precious granddaughter, said the prison telegraph, and now that she'd moved on, the Tiger was on the endangered list. One by one, the last fragile connections to Diego's life as a free man were being severed.

Diego grew to hate the calendar on the wall, counting down his time with Machi. There was nothing he could do except fold laundry, sing for Machi, and walk the yard with him. The red clay stretched out forever as the evenings drew in. Soon he would walk it alone.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me.

And suddenly there were no more days.

"I getting out soon."

Machi looked at him apologetically as they sat on Diego's bunk. He looked away for a minute and wet his lips nervously. "Few days now. They not tell me date."

Diego nodded.

Machi looked away again, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair as he huffed out a sigh. Diego felt a flash of bitter amusement. The boy was the one being released, and yet he looked like he was more cut up about it than Diego. He reached out and patted Machi on the knee.

Suddenly he found himself enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my friend," Machi mumbled against his shoulder. "You save me from terrible mistake. I going home because of you."

Diego smiled briefly, curling both arms around the boy as best he could. He allowed the embrace to continue for a few minutes, then gently pushed Machi out of the hug. He wet his lips, struggling for words.

"…Machi…son…good. Good."

Machi smiled at him, swiping a stray tear away from his face. He tapped Diego gently on his good arm, and for a second Diego was sure he was going to say something – something like don't get mushy, old man. Instead the boy swallowed, stood up, and climbed into his own bunk without another word.

Two days later, he was gone.