The scramble down and across to the camp site was awkward but otherwise uneventful. If one of them slipped even a little, the other offered a hand to steady them.
Alonso looked a little drained as he rested for a moment near his tent, unwilling to admit to the dull ache that seemed to spread from the gash on his shoulder to the rest of him. He needed to rest, but the children were so vulnerable and a week of running from their parents' murderers would have taxed their strength, and probably the trauma was devestating for them.
He didn't know how much they had seen on that day, but he had seen the bloodshed. William, one of his close friends wasn't one of the bodies, so Alonso was confident that the man had rescued the children. He tried to shut out the memories by shutting his eyes, and his balance wobbled dramatically. He put out a hand to steady himself, and found himself steadied by Diego.
"Do you have any bandages in your supplies?" Diego was saying. Alonso opened his eyes with more difficulty than he would like, and nodded.
Whoever this man was, he was confident in himself, Alonso thought. He frowned. He wondered why they looked so alike, and what it meant. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He was tired. He hadn't really slept since he left San Francisco, always being on the move, always thinking of the children. He had been training for this type of mission for many years, but he never realised it would involve his friends...and family. No, he couldn't think about that, he had to focus on the children. They needed him.
Diego was rifling through his belongings, and he didn't care. It would have made him irritable and defensive any other time, but he really didn't care right then.
Diego was talking to him again, and he struggled to follow his words.
"Sit down, Alonso. Let me look at it." Diego helped him sit on the rock that had been a handy seat for the past two days.
Alonso flinched with the shock of cold that hit with the tiniest movement of his sleeve. Diego teared it a little to get a better look at the wound, and then wrapped it expertly with one of the strips of ripped cotton that he had packed as bandages.
"Have you got any blankets?"
Alonso nodded, feeling a little more drowsy than he liked. He was finding it hard to concentrate, and he vaguely thought that this interfering stranger had a lot to do with it. He was handling himself well before he met Diego. He wasn't sure he liked him, but he couldn't explain how he was interfering or distracting.
Alonso just knew he was so tired, enough to just lie down and sleep right there, regardless of the snow. Diego gave him a worried glance, and gathered the blankets together.
"Right," he said. "Show me this track down, and we can get you somewhere warmer than here."
Alonso turned to glance at the way down, and attempted to stand. Diego swiftly grabbed him under the uninjured shoulder, to prevent him falling.
"This is going to be difficult," Diego said, grimly, as he shifted the blankets to his other shoulder to accommodate the injured man. "No. Don't close your eyes. I need you awake and walking. Alonso!"
Victoria had begun to pace the cavern, making the horse nearby snort with surprise. The pocket watch was open in her hand, and warm to the touch. It had seemed hours since Diego had left, but the watch reminded her it was only half an hour. Time was going so slowly, and she ached to know if he was alright.
Part of her thought she was crazy to let him go out there, but she knew she had no way of stopping him. Not really. Normally he was passive enough to go allow with her, but not today. He seemed unlike himself, and she was vaguely worried. Something still nagged at the back of her mind that there were many questions she should ask him, and that kiss… Maybe she was a harlot? Maybe he thought she was a harlot, throwing herself at him like that - without even a warning. Diego had always been one of her closest friends, but after this, maybe she would see less of him.
And she had thought he was Zorro. He hadn't denied it, and he had been so unsettled afterwards. But the gunshots would have unsettled anyone. She sighed and rubbed her arms for a bit of extra warmth. The thick shawl was just not warm enough with the change in the weather. She wished she was back in her tavern, near her cooking stove, busy and surrounded by the cheerful noise of customers in the background. The howl of the wind was almost unnerving, sounding almost like a creature out for blood, trying to get her. And she was so alone.