Also, thank you so much for your positive reaction to the last chapter. I really didn't think anyone would be so fond of it. Shows what I know. Thanks!
Felipe sat in the parlor, throwing anxious glances towards Alejandro's office. Don Ciro Esperanza had arrived over a half an hour ago, and he and Alejandro had been closed in the office ever since. He'd tried to loiter outside the office in hopes of hearing what they might be talking about, but there were no obvious hiding places at that end of the hall and a supposedly deaf boy would look very suspicious listening at key holes.
But he desperately wanted to know what was going on behind that solid oak door. Diego had been missing for so long, and Don Ciro was one of the few people who could tell him what had occurred in that time. He was so used to being Diego's only confidant that not knowing what was going on was doubly frustrating. When Diego had left he'd been hurt, and exhausted, and not really out of the illness that had accompanied the bullet wound, but at least he'd been standing.
Now-now was a different story. He tightened his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. Diego was still unconscious. It had been two days, and even though neither the doctor nor Don Alejandro would tell him anything, he knew that was much too long. Victoria was with Diego now, keeping an eye on him, watching for any sign that he might be waking up. He'd roused slightly earlier that day, but he'd been delirious, not really awake. His father had been able to give him some water and a small amount of broth, but that was all before he fell back into unconsciousness.
He could go back. Clearly neither Alejandro nor Don Ciro required nor wanted his presence. He should go back. Diego was . . . say it . . . Diego was dying, if only by inches. He wasn't a doctor, nor a scholar like Diego, but he'd paid enough attention over the years that he knew people didn't generally wake up after being unconscious for so long. Not after head injuries, of which Diego had received several.
He should go back, but he just couldn't. It was cowardice, no other word for it, but he just couldn't watch any more. Diego was hurt so much worse than he'd expected. He'd watched Diego ride barely scratched from battle after battle that should have killed him. Even after the last few weeks, after all of his warnings to Diego, he'd half expected his to return as himself. A little bruised maybe, and filled with his characteristic graceful apologies, but still the same man. But when they'd found him, Diego had been acting so strangely and now he was lying so motionless in his bed. It was so unlike the Diego of the last few weeks, the one who was always on the move, always with a new plan in mind, always ready with at least a partial solution to the problems brought before him in droves. Sitting there, in his room, just watching him not moving, was increasingly horrific.
The door to Alejandro's office opened and Felipe jumped to his feet. Don Ciro gripped Alejandro's shoulder and the said something in low tones that Felipe didn't catch. Alejandro nodded slowly and Don Ciro dropped his hand. With a final nod for Alejandro, he swept down the hallway, calling for his man as he passed through the parlor and out into the entranceway.
Alejandro stood in the doorway to his office, staring blindly in to space. Felipe thought perhaps he would wish to be alone, but as he got up to creep away, Alejandro's head shot up and he gestured or Felipe to come into his office.
"Felipe, I would speak with you for a moment, if you would."
Felipe bowed his head and walked down the hall to the office, each step drawing greater trepidation.
Alejandro held the door open for him as he passed through, shutting it with some force behind him. Felipe sunk into one of the chairs opposite the broad desk, feeling like a troublesome client. He rarely had cause to come in this room. The fixtures were heavy dark oak and oppressive, and the big shelves filling the wall behind the desk brimmed with account books. The desk itself had come all the way from England: a weighty, impressive thing, built to intimidate. Diego had spent some time here in his father's absence, keeping up with the books, but Felipe generally avoided it.
Alejandro sat in his customary place across the desk, but he said nothing. He picked up a half-finished glass of expensive bourbon and tossed it back. He poured another from the finely etched decanter, but just stared into the amber liquid for a long moment. He tensed and swallowed this glass as well before setting it down firmly.
"I have just had a rather interesting conversation," Alejandro said, turning to face Felipe. "A month ago, hearing such a story, I would have laughed and called it an amusing fiction, but I seem to have lost my sense of humor today."
Felipe sank back deeper into his chair. Alejandro was angry. Really, dangerously angry. Alejandro was a passionate man, and Felipe had seen him countless times worked up over the injustice of the alcalde or his frustrations that no one would do anything about it, but this was different. He'd seen it's type before, in the exceedingly rare times when the alcalde had pushed Diego past even his tolerance or when Diego faced injustices that Zorro could not cure. In Alejandro, though, it seemed worse.
"Don't you wish to hear the story?" Alejandro said. "It's a very good one, I'm sure you'll agree."
Felipe shook his head desperately. He wanted to know what had happened to Diego, but not like this, not here. Alejandro was staring in his direction, but Felipe didn't think his glassy eyes were seeing anything and his hand where it was curled around the arm of his chair had gone bloodless white.
"It seems that my son-you know, the one who will spend an entire week locked in the library chasing down a stray fact, and who considers crafting a poem a full day's work-has had a few interesting adventures in my absence. First it seems he gets shot, but doesn't really feel the need to tell anyone about it. Probably just slipped his mind, hmm?"
Felipe froze, barely daring to breathe. Alejandro's eyes locked on him and then narrowed.
"I thought perhaps he'd have to tell someone, but we'll get to that later. Now, and please interrupt me if I am getting this wrong, his next brilliant decision is to get on a horse and ride around looking for outlaws and what do you know? He finds some. Of course, his not long for life horse promptly dumps him in the middle of the battle and he gets carted off."
Alejandro paused and smiled, but it was not the type of smile Felipe had ever seen on his face before. This expression was darker, somehow inwardly twisted, something you'd far more expect to find on De Soto's face.
"I told you this was an amusing story," Alejandro said, the smirk leaving his face but entering his voice. "And now comes what my new friend Don Ciro has to tell me. It seems, once Diego actually got to the bandits' camp, he decides to tell them he's a ranch manager from Santa Paula and not anyone of worth at all. Isn't that funny?
"And then, after establishing himself as the disposable hostage, he spends the next five days attracting the attention of the outlaws' leader so that he will ignore that idiot Esperanza's rantings and leave Hernan de Carraco alone. Finally, when he does by some miracle finally effect their escape, instead of riding to the alcalde and sending his men after the bandits, he thinks it would be a fine plan to try and take on an entire band of men with by now a fairly good reason to kill him on his own. No matter that he doesn't even know how to hold a sword let alone use one, not that he was armed anyway.
"And that's not even the best part! Oh, no. The best part is that he sends the man he risked his life for to tell me that he is sorry. Sorry!"
Alejandro paused and hurled his crystal glass at the wall. It shattered, sending glittering splinters everywhere. Felipe flinched and sank deeper into himself.
The room went very quiet as Alejandro closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
"I have felt that Diego had a great many secrets from me for many years now," Alejandro said lowly, not opening his eyes, "but now it seems that I do not know my son at all, and I do not know if I ever will have the chance to."
Alejandro opened his eyes again and looked at Felipe again, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I think, though, that you might be able to tell me more than a little about all of this. If I am never to know my son, at the very least I will know why."
Felipe just sat there, unable to move. Alejandro, like Diego, had never been anything but good to him. As a child when he'd first arrived here, he'd gotten himself into his share of boyish scrapes, but Alejandro had never yelled even as much as Diego had. When Diego had gone to Spain, Alejandro had even taken over a few of his lessons, filling up the time and some of the space that Diego's absence had created in both their lives.
"Well?" Alejandro asked. Felipe still just sat there. He wished Diego were here, or Victoria, to tell him what to do.
Alejandro stood and leaned forward on the desk. "My son may be dying and I can do nothing but watch. Heaven help me, you are going to explain to me why."
Felipe shook his head violently. He grabbed his arm, pulling himself into a tighter space and turned his head away.
Alejandro crossed around the desks and grabbed Felipe's shoulders. "I know you know something."
*I don't. I don't know anything. Stop, please! I can't tell you.*
Alejandro released his shoulders with a gasp and spun around. He leaned one hand on the desk and brought the other to his forehead. His shoulders trembled slightly beneath the fine fabric of his coat.
When he turned around to face Felipe again, the anger had fled to be replaced by utter weariness.
"I am so sorry, Felipe, so very sorry."
Felipe uncurled from his defensive position and stood, placing a comforting hand on Alejandro's shoulder.
"I have been going round and round over all of this for days," Alejandro said with a sigh, not quite meeting Felipe's concerned look. "But the more I think about it, it all becomes more confusing, and it does not help that Diego seems to have trusted nearly everyone in the pueblo more than myself."
Felipe shook Alejandro slightly to get his attention. Alejandro raised his head, his expression now simply worried and sad. For the first time in Felipe's experience, he looked his age.
"I must know. Please, if there is anything you can tell me-"
Felipe stilled. He had no idea what Diego would want him to do. He didn't think it would help anyone for Zorro's secrets to be revealed now. It would only cause Alejandro and Victoria in particular deeper wounds than were necessary.
"He was shot before he was captured, wasn't he?" Alejandro asked.
Felipe nodded. That much was too obvious to deny, and Alejandro seemed so defeated.
Alejandro let out a long sigh. "Thank you for that. When was it?"
*Eleven days ago, * Felipe signed, deciding to bend the truth just a little. If it ever were to occur to Alejandro that Zorro had disappeared and Diego had been wounded on the same night, the rest would surely not be long to follow.
Alejandro stiffened, familiar fire sparking in his eyes. "Who was it?" he said tersely.
*I wasn't there. * He was doubly glad he'd decided to hide the truth about Zorro now. If Alejandro ever found out that it was the alcalde who had shot his son, there was no telling what he'd do, and Felipe couldn't bear to lose him as well as Diego.
Felipe could tell Alejandro was quickly growing angry again, and took a step backwards.
*I can't tell you any more than that. I promised him. *
"He's my son."
*I promised.*
Alejandro shook his head. "Will you at least tell me why he didn't tell anyone? I know Diego has a lot of skill with healing, but he is not a doctor. That wound might very well have killed him, even if he had stayed in bed."
*He didn't want everyone to be worried, and he thought it would be dangerous if the outlaws found out our people didn't have anyone in charge. *
"It must have been very hard for you," Alejandro said, watching his face closely.
Felipe nodded, remembering Diego falling off of Toronado. *There was so much blood * he signed almost involuntarily.
Alejandro came over and gripped his shoulder. "I am sorry you had to go through with that," he said, full of that understanding and compassion Felipe had been missing since Diego disappeared. "Diego should never have asked you to keep such a secret."
Felipe shook his head. *It would have been worse if he hadn't told me. *
Alejandro's answering smile was perhaps a little bitter. "Yes, I can honestly tell you that not knowing is worse."
*I am sorry. I think it would be better if he could tell you. *
Alejandro gripped his shoulder more firmly. "I understand, as much I wish it otherwise. I suppose I will just have to wait until he wakes up."
Felipe smiled, trying to look appropriately hopeful.
"He is going to wake up," Alejandro said. "I must believe that, and when he does the both of us can yell at him. How is that?"
Felipe's smile was a bit more genuine this time.
Alejandro nodded and turned for the door, but then turned back again. "If Diego doesn't recover . . . "
Felipe thought of the cave and all its secrets and all of the adventures Zorro had had over the years. Maybe, even if there was a price, it was a story that should be told. Diego deserved to have people know the kind of life he lived.
*I will tell you then. *
I still hope it will not come to that, but thank you."
A soft knock on the door broke the tension.
"Come," Alejandro said.
Maria cracked the door open slightly and took a half-step into the room. "Please forgive me, Don Alejandro, but the doctor has come."
Alejandro practically pushed her out of the way in his hurry out of the room, Felipe momentarily completely forgotten.
Felipe took a moment to compose himself and then darted after Alejandro.
He found Victoria in the hallway outside Diego's door. Alejandro had unbent enough to allow her to stay alone with Diego, but his sense of propriety banished her whenever the doctor arrived to examine Diego more closely. Her beautiful face showed a little frustration, but was much calmer than Felipe would have expected.
"He will be all right," she said, smiling at Felipe serenely. He didn't know how she could be so sure, but she always had been, even when Diego had been missing. She patted his shoulder and then gestured that he should go in.
Inside, the doctor was just finishing examining Diego's side. Felipe thought it might look a little better, but he couldn't really judge. The doctor had been forced to re-open it to clean it out and the fresh incision made it seem worse.
Doctor Hernandez soaked a cloth in alcohol. "Diego has an idea that cleaning instruments and any open wounds in alcohol helps to prevent infection. I must say, it has proven somewhat effective since I adopted it."
He bent and pressed the cloth against Diego's side. Diego moaned a little and flinched slightly away from the pressure.
Felipe's breath caught in his throat. That was the first time he'd seen Diego respond since he'd returned.
The doctor nodded and smiled slightly. He checked Diego's bruised ribs and then re-applied the bandage.
"You say he woke slightly this morning?" he said, standing.
Alejandro nodded. "He was not precisely conscious, though."
"Still, the fact that you were able to give him some water and food is a very good sign. He clearly lost a fair amount of blood somewhere in the last week or so, and he very badly needs to keep hydrated."
The doctor sounded far more positive than he had the day before. Felipe struggled desperately not to read too much into that.
"His fever is somewhat lower, though the fact that it is still as high as it is concerns me somewhat," the doctor went on. "Still though, he does look better, even though I am sure it doesn't seem so to you. His pulse is much stronger today, and his color is somewhat improved."
"What are you saying, doctor?" Alejandro asked, voice at its most controlled.
Doctor Hernandez smiled. "I am not saying his recovery is assured. That is far from true. However, I think we need not give up hope just yet. If his progress continues at this rate, I think he may very well wake up within a day or two."
"I thought," Alejandro said, swallowing, "I though you said if he didn't wake up within a day then we shouldn't expect him to."
"Ordinarily that is the case. However, usually in that case patients deteriorate fairly quickly. The fact that he was somewhat awake this morning, even if he was delirious, proves he has not fallen into deep unconsciousness. I think his body had simply reached the point where it could go on no further. Combined with his injuries, well, this was inevitable."
Alejandro looked at Diego for a long moment, tension leaking from his tightly held shoulders in a slight shiver. "I cannot express my gratitude enough for what you have done for him."
"I have done little enough. Most of this depends on him-and what he does should he wake. I am afraid he is in for a long recovery, Don Alejandro."
Alejandro's lips compressed into a thin line. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he behaves himself."
Hernandez mouth quirked in an almost smile. "Of that I have no doubt."
Alejandro accompanied the doctor out into the hall. Felipe could hear them talking to Victoria.
Felipe sat on the bed next to Diego. Don Ciro, feeling certain that a man as careful with his appearance as Diego would feel better groomed as a gentleman ought to be, had brought his body servant along with him that morning. Felipe had to admit that Diego did look better without the thick beard and with his hair trained back in place. For the first time, Felipe felt as he could recognize his friend. He frowned, seeing a long red line across Diego's throat. He reached to trace it with his fingers. Something that straight could only have come from a knife.
He heard the door close behind him. He turned to see Alejandro looking at him and dropped his hand. Alejandro's gaze centered on the newly exposed mark on Diego's throat. On his face was such a naked mixture of hope and fear and confusion that Felipe had to turn away.
You have to wake up, Diego, you have to. I don't know what he will do if you don't. There are so many people who need you. Victoria needs you, the pueblo needs you.
I need you.
Felipe curled his fingers around Diego's wrist. The doctor was right. His pulse was stronger today.
Felipe closed his eyes and allowed himself to hope.
