Alejandro made his way up the stairs. He gripped the pine rail for support. His legs felt heavy and his entire body ached. Alejandro could only remember one other time he had felt so tired. The night his beloved Elena died. Although he knew Diego would be alright, he could not stop thinking of what life would be like without his son. Alejandro would never admit it, but in a way he was glad Diego was not a fighter. He had already lost one person he loved, he couldn't bear to lose another.

Alejandro opened the door to his son's room. The lanterns were turned down, and only a faint amount of light reflected in the room. Alejandro could see Bernardo asleep in the chair beside Diego's bed. He gently nudged Bernardo. Bernardo started and looked around the room with wide-eyes. Alejandro tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He pointed to the door and then to the bed. Bernardo understood and nodded. He patted Diego's shoulder before slipping quietly out of the room.

Alejandro sat in the chair Bernardo had just vacated. For several minutes he watched the even breathing of his only son, taking solace in the simple action. Alejandro gently stroked Diego's cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes.

"If you would only talk to me Diego," Alejandro sighed. "Since you came home from Spain, you have been so distant."

Alejandro felt his son's forehead. It was cool to the touch. He readjusted Diego's covers before settling back into the deep brown leather chair. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his steel grey hair. "Sergeant Garcia was right," Alejandro mused, "you have never needed anyone."

"That is not true, Father."

Alejandro opened his eyes and changed the subject, "Mi hijo, how are you feeling?"

Diego shifted in his bed and winced when his aching muscles protested. "I am fine Father. Just a little sore. I will better in a few days."

Alejandro took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Diego," Alejandro began, unsure of how to begin. "Diego, who did this to you and why?"

Diego closed his eyes briefly. His head throbbed and his entire body ached. "It is nothing to be concerned with Father. It is over. Let it be," Diego said, hoping his father would let things be until he could focus on the situation. The last thing he wanted was to say something he shouldn't.

Alejandro shook his head. Diego was doing it again. He was closing himself off from those who cared about him. "Let me help you Diego," Alejandro pleaded. The lanterns cast dark shadows on Alejandro's face as he spoke, "Do you not trust me? I merely want to help you."

Diego grimaced at the pain in his father's voice. He knew that his secrets hurt his father, but to see the pain so openly on his father's face hurt more than the beating he had taken several hours ago. "I am sorry Father. It is not you. But this is something I must work out for myself." Diego saw the hurt look in his father's eyes, and felt his chest constrict. How can I hurt him like this? Diego wondered as he spoke again, "Please Father."

"Alright," Alejandro asked. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. He felt tired. This was not the way the conversation was supposed to go. He wanted Diego to confide in him like a son should. He felt useless sitting here.

Diego watched as several emotions played across his father's features. He knew he knew he had hurt the Don's feelings, but Diego could not risk giving anything away. His past was just that, and Diego did not want his father to worry over something that was done years ago. Or so he thought.

Diego shifted, a hiss escaped through his clenched teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. He couldn't just leave it like this. Diego feared he may have created a chasm he could never fully fill.

Diego sighed, sounding almost defeated. He would not risk alienating his father any further. He simply had to be careful what he told Alejandro. There was no need to tell the entire truth, Diego thought, just enough so Father will feel I have confided in him. Perhaps it will do some good to talk about it. I have carried this burden far to long.

Diego shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but his body refused to cooperate. Every muscle ached, and his chest still hurt where a knife had cut a long path. "I will tell you what I can. But I will give you no names. This is between me and the other man."

Alejandro nodded, "Just tell me why. That will be enough for now."

"While I was studying in Spain I became good friends with Arturo de Amanza. He was a swordsman and very good at it. I would often watch him at his lessons," Diego said, a slight smile tugged at his mouth as he thought about his friend. "When he would duel, I was always beside him."

Diego's grin disappeared as he continued, "It was my last year, just before you called me home, and Arturo was going to duel a caballero who tried to court a lady he fancied. Arturo won," Diego said, his eyes burning with anger.

Alejandro rested a hand on his son's shoulder, surprised to see the anger on Diego's face. "Go on Diego," he urged, gently squeezing his son's shoulder, mindful of the bruises that lay beneath the blue nightgown.

Diego rubbed a hand through his dark hair, "Arturo won. He was leaving when the man grabbed his fallen sword and lunged. I…I tried to warn Arturo, but it was too late. The blade caught him in the back, pierced his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground." Diego turned away from his father. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to will away the image of his friend. His voice was hushed when he continued, "The other swordsman was killed shortly after."

At his father's questioning glance Diego shrugged, "It doesn't matter how. The man had an older brother, a classmate of mine. He blamed me for his brother's death. He had sworn he would get even, but then I left for California and did not think of it until I got the note. It may not have been him, but I am almost certain it was. It does not matter now. He has done what he wanted. I will not give his name."

Alejandro shook his head. He could not understand Diego's loyalty to a man who beat him. Why would he not wish him punished? A thought occurred to Alejandro, "Diego," he began, "why would he blame you for his brother's death?"

Diego did not answer, too many thoughts ricocheted his mind. His clenched fists shook under the covers. Because it was my sword that pierced his brother's heart. It was my hand that killed him. Do I not deserve what Ignacio did?

Alejandro saw the questions dance around Diego's mind. He knew his son was wrestling with his emotions. Although he did not know why the man blamed Diego for the death of his brother, he would not let Diego decide he deserved the beating. "Diego, you did what you thought was right, what was right. You always have. Don't blame yourself, and don't protect the man who did this to you. You owe him no loyalty." Alejandro sighed. "Diego, do you think you deserved this…" he waved his hand across Diego's body, "this beating?"

Diego slowly unclenched his fists, and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was exhausted. All he wanted was his father to leave him alone to sort things out, but he knew his father would demand an answer. The problem was Diego just didn't have one right then. How could he answer his father when he himself did not know?

Diego said the only thing he could to satisfy his father, "No, I did not deserve this. I am tired, Father. Can we continue this in the morning?"

Alejandro nodded slightly. He knew his son was telling him what he wanted to hear, but he could tell the conversation had taken its toll. "Sí, mi hijo. Rest. I will be here if you need me."

Diego nodded and turned his head toward the small window in his room, a sliver of moon was silhouetted by the wispy clouds, and he couldn't help but think of Zorro and what Ignacio's arrival would mean for the both of them. Surely Ignacio would connect the masked man to the suddenly inept swordsman Diego had become. Maybe it would take a while, but Diego knew that if he tried Ignacio could destroy everything Diego was. Diego's disturbing thoughts tumbled around his mind until he could not keep them straight. Only then did his breathing even out as he fell into a fitful sleep.

Alejandro waited until Diego had fallen asleep before making himself comfortable. Images of the past day danced around his head. He could see his son being thrown to the ground, a moan escaping his lips. Alejandro's last thought was of his son's scars before he fell into a restless sleep.

TBC