Lunch was a little uncomfortable, not that Miguel cared. Olivia was speaking politely with her brother, Adriana was glaring daggers at Tulio, and the poor child in question was torn between trying not to inhale the food, ignoring the death glares from across the table, and listening to Miguel.

"And then you can try reading Genesis, and rewrite the Psalms, and then I can teach you some new music and you can learn to sing along-"

"Do you know how to read and write, Tulio?" Hugo asked politely, stopping the boys' one-sided conversation in its tracks. The brunette glanced up sharply.

"Not well, sir."

"I've been teaching him!" Miguel boasted. "He's a fast learner," he added. Olivia covered her laugh with her hand.

"Really, now?" Hugo questioned, his eyes never leaving Tulio's. "How do you spell my name, young man?"

"H-U-G-O," Tulio replied automatically.

"And yours?"

"T-U-L-I-O."

"Can you write that?" Hugo asked, leaning forward. He extracted a piece of parchment and some charcoal from his pocket and handed them to Tulio. The boy quickly scribbled out his name.

"Not bad, though the 'O' could be a little rounder," the man murmured, rubbing his short beard. Tulio nodded, sinking into his chair. "I'm only joking, boy!" Hugo chuckled, patting his shoulder lightly. The brunette brightened.

That night, Tulio was made to stay in the guest bedroom with Miguel. He slept soundly, much to the discontent of his friend, who was ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. He'd been bathed and given one of Miguel's nightgowns to borrow, and had spent a good half hour reading bits of the Bible, parts that he was supposed to remember. He'd rolled over and fallen asleep after Psalm 22 the fifth time around.

Miguel was just dosing off, his arms wrapped tightly around Tulio, when he felt his friend shudder violently. He cracked an eye open and saw fingers wrapped around the brunette's neck, squeezing the life out of him.

"Servants should know their place," Adriana was chanting. Miguel screamed and grabbed the brass candlestick and swung it at his aunt's arm. She cried out when it connected, and he grabbed Tulio and their clothes and ran out the door, down a hallway, and out of the house. He could hear his aunt sobbing, telling his mother and uncle, "The servant boy attacked me! Attacked me with a candlestick! I was just walking by! He kidnapped Miguel. Just started dragging him away. . ."

Miguel and Tulio got dressed outside and ran into the streets, where they wandered into the shadier parts of town and ran into some rough looking characters. Tulio, as it turned out, was good at gambling; he won them some money and rented them a cheap room. It was cold, and Tulio heaped the covers on Miguel, telling him that he was going to catch a cold. Tired and scared, Miguel quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, however, it seemed that Tulio had caught the bug. He sneezed a few times, and as the day wore on and the boys tried to find their way back, he started to cough. Finally he agreed to spend the bit of money that he'd won to buy some food, and the nice lady at the bar that served them agreed with Miguel; Tulio was sick. "It is almost winter," she reasoned. She then brought the boys into her home, where she put Tulio to bed in her son's old room.

For the next few days, Miguel worked in the bar, earning a bit of money and paying the nice lady. The patrons liked him, and he was surprised that they weren't all evil, murdering cons. Some were sailors, while others did have prices on their heads, but they were plenty nice to him, and managed to make him laugh. They tipped big, even though lots of times Miguel just sat with them and listened to their stories. He heard of their adventures and told them that one day, he'd have adventures, too. The men laughed and wished him the best of luck. Miguel's days were good.

His nights, however, weren't so good. Tulio was getting worse, and no matter what the nice lady or any of the patrons did to try to help, the skinny boy was progressively becoming more and more ill, instead of getting better. On the fifth night, Miguel walked in to find him not moving. He thought he was sleeping, but his chest didn't move.

"Tulio!" he cried, running over and hugging his friend. The brunette's head fell back, dark bangs brushing the bed. "Don't die on me, Tulio!"

"I'm not dying, and quit yelling in my ear," Tulio rasped. Miguel dropped him in surprise, eliciting a grunt from his friend.

"You're alive?"

"Of course I'm alive."

"Oh, darling, thank God!"

"What did you call me?"

"Darling?" Miguel raised his eyebrows, confused. Tulio smiled.

"I like that," he murmured, closing his eyes.

The door to the room opened, and Olivia walked in, looking scared and upset. "Miguel! I've been looking for you for days!" She glared at Tulio. "We feed you and cloth you and put a roof over your head, and this is how you repay us? By assaulting Adriana and kidnapping my son?"

The nice lady walked in and whispered, "Please be quiet, he's very sick –"

"I'm sick! Sick with worry for my son, who is only here in this place because of him!"

"Mom, I hit auntie." Olivia's head swivelled in Miguel's direction.

"What?" she asked. Miguel bit his lip.

"She was choking Tulio, so I hit her with the candlestick, grabbed Tulio and ran," he explained.

Olivia seemed to be in shock. Recovering, she said, "Alright, time to go home."

"No!" Miguel cried, drawing away.

"No?"

"No. I want to stay with Tulio. I don't want Aunt Adriana to hurt him anymore. I want to go on adventures. I want to have wonderful adventures!"

Olivia's face softened. "I thought you'd be leaving me so much later in life," she whispered. A tear ran down her cheek. She hugged and kissed her son. "Go on and have adventures. Take care of your friend. Remember me and your father in your travels, darling, and may you live a long and happy life." She hugged and kissed him again, and he returned the parting wishes with tears in his eyes as well.

Years later, Miguel heard during a little scam that a beautiful woman named Olivia had passed away and that many people had gathered for her funeral. Her husband died shortly afterwards, within a few days. Despite knowing this, Miguel was happy. He'd known, somehow, that his parents had died painlessly in their sleep, with sweet dreams.

Holding onto Tulio now, with his laboured breathing and high fever, he remembered how he'd felt when he'd been worried that his friend was dead. He ran his fingers through his hair gently and murmured, "Sweet dreams, my darling." In this moment, he didn't care that he'd been betrayed. Right now, he loved his partner, and nothing could change that.