The Golden Lion
A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy the story :) Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Zorro, and I'm not making any money off of this story. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes are mine.
Chapter 1
Diego slid tiredly out of Toronado's saddle. It had been a long two days.
Trying to make up for not being around the rancho very much lately, Diego had accompanied his father, Don Alejandro, to San Pedro to acquire a new prize bull. It had been a lucrative business trip, and Diego continued to be impressed with his father's negotiating skills.
Alejandro was a very shrewd businessman. More importantly, the eldest De la Vega was quite pleased with the purchase they made. Secretly, the don was more pleased that his son had shown an interest in the business deal in the first place. Diego often spent his days lazing around the hacienda either reading, writing, painting, or some other form of frivolous nonsense.
At least that's what Diego de la Vega wanted his father and everyone else to think. What Alejandro didn't know was that his son Diego did not in fact idle most of his time away with academic pursuits. While it was true that Diego's interest in scientific knowledge and inquiry was genuine, it didn't take up the bulk of his time. In fact, if Diego told the truth, he would wish for even more free time to conduct his experiments. Free time wasn't a luxury he had anymore, not once he had decided to become the masked outlaw known as Zorro. Using Zorro as an alter ego to maintain justice and peace in the Pueblo occupied most of his time.
Usually, Diego had his trusted servant and very close friend, Felipe, make excuses for where he was and what he was doing when he wasn't at home.
Diego winced slightly as he pulled Toronado's saddle off. Every muscle in his body ached painfully. As he started to brush his trusted mount down after the long ride Diego made a mental note to ask Felipe what the last lie he'd told his father was so that he made certain not to repeat it too soon.
At least that wasn't an issue tonight, and in some ways, that was a blessing. On the other hand, Diego had a feeling he was in for quite a lecture when he finally walked in the front door. His father was no doubt worried sick about him.
He'd been missing for days.
Diego sighed. It really had been a long two days.
He and his father had been happily leading their new bull back to Los Angeles when a very large, very well-armed group of pirates passed them on the trail. That would have been unusual enough, but they were holding several townspeople hostage including Felipe and Victoria, the proprietress of the local tavern. As soon as he'd recognized them clinging to each other for comfort in the wagon, Diego's heart had nearly stopped. His best friend and the woman he loved had been kidnapped. They'd been snatched from the tavern in broad daylight and he hadn't been there to put a stop to it.
There hadn't been time to think. He'd sent his father back to Los Angeles with the bull. It had been partly to get him out of the way, but it really wasn't pragmatic to rescue Victoria and Felipe from a band of cutthroats with a noisy bull in tow. Thankfully, Alejandro had agreed without too much protest.
Diego sighed. Yesterday there just hadn't been time to think.
Usually, Zorro planned his actions very carefully. To be caught meant an appointment with the gallows since the Spanish government put a price on his head and classified him as a traitor. However, yesterday, when he'd seen those pirates on the road he simply had to react. With none of his gear or weapons, he'd hastily gone after the pirates by himself and sent his father back to town to get help.
Diego's first attempt to free his friends had been a spectacular failure. He'd managed to sneak into the buccaneers' camp, but when his focus had been centered on trying to help Felipe free himself from his rope bonds, Diego had allowed himself to be captured. Felipe managed to escape during the confusion, but Diego was forced to take his friend's place. With so many pirates surrounding them and his wrists tied tightly behind his back, Diego had been unable to affect an escape while they'd been stopped. Thankfully, he managed to leave a trail of buttons behind for the soldiers to follow once the caravan had started on their treasure hunt once again. The soldiers finally caught up to the cutthroats early that morning, but too late to do anything but escort the kidnapped townspeople and Victoria back to the pueblo. Zorro had already foiled their plans.
Felipe, bless his heart, had returned to the hacienda and retrieved Zorro's things allowing Diego to appear as his alter ego and defeat the pirates. Defeating them hadn't even been all that difficult. The difficulty was trying to convince everyone, including Victoria, that he'd been in two places at once.
Diego sighed more heavily this time. Victoria was another matter entirely. He'd been in love with her for years. But not even Victoria knew that he was Zorro. It was too dangerous to put her life in jeopardy that way. So, he admired her as Diego and cared for her as a friend and all the while she was in love with his alter ego, Zorro. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't openly admit his love to her. Days like today after they'd been through so much were particularly difficult for him to cope with.
Diego poured some oats for Toronado, gave the faithful horse one final pat, and headed out the secret entrance to Zorro's cave behind the hacienda. Felipe was waiting for him on Esperanza, the horse Diego had been riding when he'd been captured by the pirates. He gently grabbed the reins, ignoring Felipe's silent protest that he should be the one to walk the horse the rest of the way home, not Diego.
A few short moments later they arrived at the gate in front of the De la Vega hacienda. No sooner had they walked past the short wall in front of the house than the door burst open. Alejandro de la Vega emerged with Juan and a few of the rancho's vaqueros behind him. Diego stopped abruptly. All of them were armed.
"Father? What's going on?"
"Diego! Where on Earth have you been? I've been worried sick!"
"I'm sorry, Father. The soldiers finally came and-"
"Diego, the soldiers returned Victoria back to the tavern safe and sound hours ago! But they said you still had your horse and you were coming back on your own. It's nearly dark and I thought something else had happened to you."
Felipe hopped off Esperanza and was pulled into a fierce embrace by Don Alejandro. Felipe stood there as patiently as a teenager could while the kind Don looked him over carefully for assurance that he was, in fact, completely all right. Apparently satisfied with his inspection of Felipe, Alejandro shifted his focus to Diego. However, Diego had much more experience avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of his father and started toward the hacienda at a brisk pace to avoid such scrutiny. Felipe guessed it was more out of habit than anything else. Diego was constantly hiding his physical ailments resulting from Zorro's adventures from his father. It was second nature by this point, and Felipe wagered Diego probably didn't even realize he was doing it. Felipe discretely followed Diego and Alejandro into the house as the highly abridged version of events was relayed to the head of the household.
"Maria!" Alejandro bellowed loudly enough to shake the walls.
The De la Vega cook came swiftly around the corner into the dining room. "Sí, Don Alejandro?" Upon seeing Diego and Felipe standing in the foyer, a look of relief washed over her face. "Gracias a Dios," She whispered and crossed herself quickly. Speaking to the men she said, "There's a hot bath drawn for each of you in your rooms. Dinner will be put on the table shortly, señores." With that matter-of-fact statement, she turned on her heel and her skirts swished softly as she floated back into the kitchen.
Diego started to protest the special treatment more out of habit than any other reason, but his father stalled the thought before he could say it out loud.
"Ah, ah, ah. You heard Maria. Get going you two. I'll call for you when dinner is ready."
Diego's eyes snapped open at the sharp knock on the door. He'd long ago finished bathing and had dressed in a clean shirt and a pair of slacks. His father hadn't called him yet, and his bed had looked so inviting...but he didn't remember falling asleep.
"Diego?" Alejandro's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.
Diego rubbed his eyes. "Yes, Father?" His voice was rougher than he'd hoped.
The door opened slowly. "Diego? Supper is ready." Alejandro glanced worriedly at his son lying in bed. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Father. I'll be right there." To try and prove his point, Diego sat up quickly. He gripped the sheets to steady himself when he felt his head spin slightly. Not thinking twice about it, he stood up to follow his father down the hall. Alejandro heard his son stumble behind him and turned back around just in time. Tripping over the nightstand because his vision had tunneled, Diego would have crumpled to the floor if his father hadn't been there to catch him.
"Diego!" Alejandro struggled to hold onto Diego long enough to keep him from falling and hurting himself. "Felipe! Maria!" Alejandro shouted. He didn't stop to think about how useless it was to yell for a deaf boy's assistance because the boy came rushing into the room with Maria right behind him just a few seconds later. "Help me, I think he's unconscious," the Don grunted as he struggled to hold on to Diego. He was heavier than he looked!
Felipe and Maria hurried to help Alejandro ease his son back onto the bed. They'd just lifted his feet when Diego groaned. Felipe hurried to unbutton Diego's shirt while Maria poured water into the washing bowl on the nightstand. Alejandro barely nodded his thanks to her as he grabbed the cloth from her hands and soaked it. He gently moved Felipe aside before sitting on the bed beside Diego. It was then that he noticed the bruises on his son's torso and wrists. Alejandro gripped the bed sheets in a fury. He hated that those buccaneers had hurt the people he cared about. He hated more that he'd been helpless to stop it.
"Felipe, go and get Dr. Hernandez. Hurry."
Felipe nodded frantically and practically flew out the door.
Alejandro started to wipe the damp cloth over Diego's cheeks, forehead, and chest. After several moments, the worried father was rewarded with another groan.
"Diego? Wake up, son."
The groan was louder this time. "Uuhhh...Father? I...what...?" Diego tried to sit up again, but he was as white as the sheets.
"Ah, ah. Lie still, Diego." Alejandro wiped his son's forehead with the cool cloth. He pressed Diego's shoulders gently into the pillow. "Just relax."
"What happened?"
"You fainted, Diego."
Diego narrowed his eyes. "No, I didn't," He said stubbornly. There was absolutely no way on God's green Earth that he, Diego de la Vega, had fainted.
"You most certainly did." For once, there was no admonition, but only concern in Alejandro's voice. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well, hmm?"
"I feel fine, Father." Diego wished the room would stop spinning long enough for that statement to be the truth. He couldn't string his thoughts together long enough to determine why it was so important to him at that moment that his father thought he was fine.
"Felipe should be here any moment with Doctor Hernandez."
"I'll go show him in, Patrón," Maria offered and quickly headed to watch for the doctor's arrival.
"You sent for Doctor Hernandez?" Diego was mortified. Fainting in front of his father was bad enough, but if Doctor Hernandez had been summoned it would be all over the town within a day. It was bad enough that the entire town thought Diego de la Vega was a useless coward. Circumstances like this only added fuel to that fire, however false the conception might be. Diego sighed. It annoyed him to no end that his two identities had to be so completely different to maintain the secrecy Zorro required.
"You were unconscious, Diego. It seemed a prudent thing to do," Alejandro said wryly as he poured a glass of water and held Diego's head up so he could take a long drink.
"It wasn't necessary. I'm sure I'm fine." Diego tried not to flinch under his father's worried stare. Very rarely did he ever let his father know when he truly wasn't well. The time he'd fallen from Toronado was one of the rare exceptions in the last few years. His head injury had been far too severe to try and cover it up, and he had legitimately needed rest and Dr. Hernandez's care.
Knowing his father was showing his concern in the only way he knew how, Diego just rested on the bed obediently for the next several minutes as they sat there in companionable silence. Alejandro continued to pat the cool damp towel across Diego's forehead and cheeks. It was all Diego could do to stay awake, but he really was starting to feel better. He said as much to his father again.
"Father, really...I'm all right."
"Yes, well...We'll let the Doctor determine that."
"You most certainly will Don Diego," Bernardo Hernandez interrupted as he breezed into the room. "I'm afraid you'll have to start from the beginning, Don Alejandro. Felipe was in a bit of a panic and I couldn't understand him."
"Diego fainted, Doctor."
Diego opened his mouth to protest what would no doubt be a lengthy physical exam, but his father shot him a look that silenced him before he'd even uttered a word.
"I don't care if you think you're fine, Diego. Humor me, all right?"
Doctor Hernandez chuckled. "You aren't going to win, Diego. He's a worried father. I'll go as fast as I can, but I want to be thorough."
Diego sighed. "Am I not to have any say in this?"
"No," Everyone in the room responded at once.
"Very well." Diego's stomach took that opportunity to loudly growl an announcement to the room that he hadn't eaten in days.
"Hmm...Perhaps part of the mystery has been solved already," Doctor Hernandez surmised. "Maria," He turned and spoke to the housekeeper directly. "Would you be so kind as to bring a plate of that wonderfully prepared meal you made in to Diego?"
"Of course! I'll be just a moment."
Doctor Hernandez carefully put his stethoscope up to his ears and gently placed the other end on Diego's chest. "Your pulse is racing. Did you have any other symptoms?"
Diego hesitated, and Alejandro had the distinct impression Diego was trying to decide how much to reveal. "Diego," He said sternly.
"My vision blurred before going black," Diego said with a sigh. "And the room doesn't seem to want to stop spinning." He decided not to mention the slight headache he had was progressively getting worse.
"I was waking him up to come eat," Alejandro supplied helpfully. "He stood up and just...fell."
"I see. And when was the last time you ate, Diego?"
"I'm not sure." And he really wasn't. Before the incident with the pirates from the Golden Lion he'd been out all afternoon and all night as Zorro. He'd barely had time to change and meet his father at the door that morning before they had to leave for San Fernando. It wasn't at all uncommon for him to skip meals when he was riding as Zorro. It was more surprising that he hadn't had to come up with excuses for that until now.
Felipe tapped Alejandro on the shoulder to get his attention. They fed us lunch when we stopped for a break, but Diego wasn't with us yet. It was before he helped me escape.
"I didn't quite catch that Alejandro."
Diego translated before his father could ask for help.
"You mean they didn't feed you at all?" Alejandro raged. At least Felipe and Victoria had been somewhat cared for, but he had to clamp down his anger at his son being treated so poorly.
"Father, I was trying to free their prisoners. I could hardly expect them to show me any hospitality after that. Besides that, I really am feeling much better now. I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here for nothing, Doctor."
"I disagree, Diego. I recognize dehydration when I see it…and I heard all about what happened in town. You need to have something to eat, plenty of water, and get lots of rest."
"Diego, enough. You're going to do exactly what the Doctor says, and no arguments."
"Are you still feeling lightheaded?" Doctor Hernandez asked gently.
Diego sighed. He was definitely still feeling lightheaded. "Yes," He admitted softly. "A little."
Dr. Hernandez raised an eyebrow. "Headache?" He asked.
Another sigh. Softer this time, "Yes."
The doctor hadn't missed the bruises Diego was sporting, and gently palpated the younger don's ribs. Diego winced at the pressure but tolerated the exam.
"Nothing feels broken here," The doctor announced.
Nodding, Diego agreed. "I think it's just sore. My ribs don't feel broken." Diego almost gasped. That last statement had just slipped out. As Diego, there was no way he could possibly know what broken ribs felt like. He pointedly ignored the odd look his father was giving him. Luckily, Don Bernardo changed the subject.
"Let me see your wrists, Diego."
Diego obediently held out his chaffed wrists for inspection. They felt much better after he'd soaked in the tub for a minute, and afterwards he'd been so tired that the pain from the broken skin hadn't bothered him as he'd slept. Now that they were the center of his focus, he realized how much they hurt. It had taken him hours to work free from his bonds while lying in that meadow, and he'd had to tug and pull continuously on the rough ropes to do it. He'd washed away the blood in the bath, but Diego's wrists looked as painful as they felt.
His mouth set into a firm line, Don Bernardo reached into his bag and pulled out a roll of fresh bandages and some ointment. Diego was about to protest, but a look toward his father told him he'd regret it for days if he argued one more time. Doctor Hernandez was gentle and efficient, and Diego reluctantly admitted to himself that the wounds felt much better after they'd been wrapped and cared for.
"That does feel better, Doctor. Thank you."
Maria chose that moment to reappear with a heaping plate of food. Alejandro rearranged the pillows behind Diego and helped him to sit up. He placed the tray in front of Diego effectively not giving him a choice in the matter. Diego crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the fork lying on the tray.
"Father, please. I'm perfectly capable of sitting at the table and eating dinner like a normal person," Diego argued stubbornly.
"Yes, my son, because your first attempt to sit at the table this evening was so successful."
Diego had the good sense to look embarrassed at his father's sarcastic remark. It really wasn't much of an act.
"Well then, bed rest for an entire day, Diego."
"An entire day!" Diego exclaimed miserably. He had too many things to do to waste an entire day lying around in bed.
"I'll see that he rests, Doctor."
"But-"
"And then provided you get plenty to drink and plenty of rest in the next few days, I'm sure you'll feel much better. Be sure to let me know if it happens again but taking better care of yourself is all the Doctor orders."
Diego sighed. Clearly, no one was bothering to listen to him anymore. As much as he knew he needed extra rest, an entire day confined to his bed really was excessive. And besides that, he had planned to visit Victoria as Zorro to make certain that she was all right after the soldiers escorted her back to town.
"Thank you for rushing over here, Don Bernardo."
"Any time, my friend." He waved Alejandro off when he rose to see the Doctor out. "No, no. I know my way. I'll check in with you soon."
" Adiós." Alejandro tipped his head toward the door indicating he wanted Maria and Felipe to follow Doctor Hernandez out. They got the hint immediately and closed the door quietly on their way out.
"I'm sorry I caused such a fuss," Diego said quietly. He rubbed his temples with his right hand to try and ward off the headache. The effort wasn't very successful, but at his Father's next worried look, he managed a slight smile.
"Don't be silly, Diego. I'm just glad you're all right."
Diego nodded and picked up the fork. "I can't believe I passed out," He muttered as he began to eat.
Alejandro chuckled. "I can. You've had a trying few days, my son."
That was an understatement. His fight master, Sir Edmund Kendell, had been killed while visiting their family in Los Angeles just over a week ago. Even before the buccaneers had kidnapped him and Victoria, he'd hardly slept at all for the past several days. Diego knew the doctor was right. He'd have to make a better effort to take care of himself if he was going to continue moonlighting as Zorro.
"Diego...I'm so proud of you."
"Father, please. You don't have to-"
"I most certainly do. You didn't hesitate. You trusted your judgement. You freed Felipe all by yourself. I was very proud of you today, son." And I hope you never, ever scare me like that again, Alejandro added silently to himself.
Diego smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard those words from his father directed at him. Usually his father's comments were more along the lines of why-can't-you-do-this or I-wish-you-would-do-that. Diego's least favorite was when his father told him directly to be more like Zorro. The sad part about that was that he and Felipe were the only ones who understood the irony of that statement. Diego treasured what little praise he got from his Father.
"Thank you, Father."
Alejandro nodded and removed the tray Diego had polished off in record time. "All right. Get some rest, Diego."
While grudgingly admitting to himself the water and food had helped him feel considerably better, Diego nodded and slipped a little further under the covers to ward off the night chill. He was asleep before his father turned down the lamp. Alejandro watched over his only son and observed Diego's breathing even out. He'd never admit it, but he'd been terrified when Diego hadn't returned home the night before. He'd known something was wrong, but with the soldiers a half a day's ride ahead of him, there was no way he could catch up to the posse in time to help. He was just thankful that Diego had returned home safely.
Alejandro took a deep, relaxing breath before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him. Events in town lately had his nerves on edge. After dealing with bounty hunters and buccaneers, Alejandro de la Vega couldn't think of anything that could possibly be worse. Hopefully, things would calm down somewhat for a little while.
~ZZZ~
Henry Stark sat alone in his cabin on The Golden Lion. He'd been the captain of the ship for over five years. He meticulously dragged a sharpening stone over the blade of his borrowed cutlass. Stark's hand shook with anger. He nearly lost his grip on the hilt and had to grip it a little tighter.
His first mate, Sanchez handed him a half-drunk bottle of rum.
"Damn him."
"It wasn't your fault, Cap'n. Who knew that frilly-dressed fellow would lead the soldiers right to the camp?"
"I meant Zorro you fool! But damn that Don as well!" Stark tightened his hands into fists. Never in his entire career as a pirate had he ever been defeated. That's why he had his own ship and a crew that jumped at every word he spoke. He'd never felt so humiliated in his entire life. The worst part was that that he hadn't even been able to fight back. He'd lost his cutlass when he was fighting Zorro, and with the soldiers hot on their trail he hadn't had time to go back for it. It had been in his family for generations. To this day, Stark believed it carried a certain amount of luck. Indeed, he and his crew had been lucky that Zorro hadn't cut them to ribbons on the beach and even luckier that the Alcalde of Los Angeles hadn't been able to put all of them in irons and haul them off to prison.
Henry Stark hadn't gotten his ruthless reputation for nothing, though. Defeat didn't dampen his spirits. It made him thirst for revenge.
Sanchez had been watching the anger play slowly across his Captain's face. He'd been with Stark long enough to recognize the look of steely resolve when he saw it. "Cap'n...I'm all for knockin' a few heads t'gether an' plunderin' whate'er town we happen to come across next...but we can't go back to Los Angeles. It'd be suicide."
Stark chucked his borrowed cutlass across the room. It sliced deeply into the wall by the door and vibrated back and forth seemingly as determined as its new owner to take revenge on Zorro and the people of Los Angeles.
"I want Zorro! I want him dead! That pompous caballero tricked us! When I got away from Zorro and the soldiers he was gone, but the rest of the prisoners were laying there unconscious and tied up on the ground."
Sanchez was quiet for a moment. He finally admitted, "I don't understand."
"He's Zorro you fool! No one else knows his identity or he wouldn't have knocked the prisoners unconscious. How else do you explain Zorro being able to find us in the middle of nowhere when we hadn't passed any other travelers on the road? How else do you explain Zorro sneaking around through the camp all night? Because that pesky, meddlin' Don was the one doin' the sneakin'! That's how. You mark my words, Sanchez." Stark walked over to the still vibrating sword and ripped it out of the wall. He held it out in front of him practically daring Sanchez to argue and disagree with his decision. "Zorro's blood will drip off of this blade. I will make him scream in agony. And before I kill him, he will watch as we burn Los Angeles to the ground!"
Sanchez narrowed his eyes. He'd never seen Stark so determined. The crazy captain was just determined enough to do it, though. He grabbed the bottle of rum and raised it in a toast.
"To the death of Zorro!"
"To the death of Zorro!"
The cackling laughter of the two pirates could be heard on the other side of the ship. The crew smiled. If their Captain was laughing, that meant there was a new plan. Hopefully, that new plan involved all of them getting rich. The soft chuckles slowly led to full blown laughter amongst the crew as well.
In the dark, the Golden Lion floated slowly through the mist, as its Captain planned revenge on the masked outlaw.
~ZZZ~
The following evening, Zorro approached the pueblo on Toronado. His father had been hovering like a mother hen since he'd taken ill and he hadn't been able to slip away unnoticed until after his father had gone to sleep. He also didn't think he'd have been able to manage Toronado, but he was finally feeling better after getting some rest and following the doctor's orders. Zorro gripped the reigns a little tighter and pulled his stallion down from a gallop. As anxious as he was to see Victoria, he didn't want to be seen in town tonight. He patted Toronado's neck and whispered, "Gently, boy." The black pair approached the back of the tavern stealthily, and Zorro slipped through the back door unnoticed as Toronado hid himself in the shadows of the alley nearby.
His timing was perfect. He could hear Victoria usher her last guest outside before bolting the front door. Pulling out the rose he'd tucked carefully into his sash, he leaned against the wall and waited patiently. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps approach and then watched her nearly jump out of her skin when she pulled the curtain back and saw him standing in the kitchen.
"Zorro!"
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you, my dear."
Victoria chucked. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now."
Zorro presented her the rose and kissed her hand. "I was so worried about you. I wanted to come sooner to make sure you were all right." He rested his hands just above her hips, enjoying the closeness.
"Why didn't you?"
Zorro almost answered vaguely, like he usually did, but something in her eyes compelled him to be more open with her for a change. "I wasn't well enough to ride after we got back to Los Angeles."
Worry lines creased Victoria's brow. She gripped his forearms gently. "You were ill?"
"I…no. Not ill, just…exhausted," He explained with an amused smirk on his face. "I'd been out all afternoon and night the day before as Zorro, and then by the time I found out they'd taken you it was a long ride to the buccaneers' camp. I hadn't eaten or slept in days by the time we got back. It caught up with me."
Victoria moved closer and he pulled her fully into his warm embrace. "I'll wager I worry about you as much as you worry about me."
"I don't know, Querida. I worry about you quite a bit." He paused briefly. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner after the pirates raided the town. I can't imagine how scared you must have been."
She clung to him a little tighter. "I was terrified," She whispered. "I had faith you'd come, but I was so scared."
"I know," He said gently. "I wish I could have stopped it before it happened."
"The look in his eye. He wanted…He was going to…"
"I know," He choked on the emotion in his throat.
"You got there in time. I knew you would."
A sudden noise in the alley made Zorro tense. The lancers on patrol were talking quietly as they patrolled around the pueblo. A moment later their footsteps were gone.
The couple pulled themselves apart reluctantly. "I should go," Zorro said softly.
Victoria didn't miss the heavy note of regret in his voice. "Promise me you'll take better care of yourself."
"I promise."
"Vaya con Dios."
"Adiós, Querida."