Diego sat and let them wrap his ankle tightly, and sighed. It did hurt – immensely. He hoped it really wasn't broken. He had so much to do. The newspaper was on a roll. The bandits seemed to be more and more active lately. Who else would be Zorro? It wasn't as if he had an understudy.

"I want you to rest, Diego."

He scowled at his father, uncharacteristically. "I am staying up. I want to help welcome Stefano Azarola to the pueblo."

Alejandro sighed, and put his hands in the air. He walked off towards his friends in the corner.

Victoria finished off the bandage with a tight twist and a pin.

"Ow."

"Stop being a baby, Diego," she said softly. "If you feel so sore and ill, do what your father suggests and rest."

"I'm alright," Diego said stubbornly. Francisco smiled at Victoria, and nodded. He was going to sit with him for a while, and she could go back to her tavern work.

"Diego, that was amazing, my friend," he said. "My son owes you his life. If you hadn't moved so fast, he would be dead."

Diego nodded a little. "Diego," Francisco said, and paused. "Perhaps we could talk upstairs. I'd feel more comfortable if you were in a bed."

Diego frowned, and stared into his eyes for a moment. There was no patronising laughter in Francisco's depths, only honest concern. Diego nodded, and let his friend support him.

Francisco helped him up the stairs to the room they had planned to let him rest in before.

Diego sighed and let Francisco place his ankle on a cushion as he sat up in the bed. Diego didn't want to admit it but the bed was comfortable and he was a little sleepy. He could rest without sleeping, couldn't he?

"Diego…" Diego glanced at Francisco with curiosity. "Where do you get those sort of reflexes? That sort of speed? You recovered from the faint very rapidly…"

Diego was silent. "Reflexes like that come with training, as does speed. You are an extremely fit man, Diego. Strange to think that, with all your sedentary pursuits."

"You saved my sister in a similar way…"

"No I didn't. Bandits kidnapped her, remember?"

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten how to talk for a moment there."

Diego smiled a little weakly. "I'm tired, Francisco."

"You weren't a moment ago," Francisco said thoughtfully. "You were worried about me facing Zorro, Diego. Why was that?"

Diego shrugged. "The man is the best swordsman in Alta California, it's not worth risking your life."

"From what I've heard, Zorro has not killed anyone."

"Always a first time."

"No. I don't think he'd kill me…Diego…Can I ask something?"

Diego shrugged again.

"Are you Zorro?"

Diego stared at him. "Why on earth do you think that?"

"I went to school with you, friend. I know what you used to be capable of. I have heard what Zorro is capable of, and perhaps there is a similarity. Would you tell me?"

"Zorro has never told anyone his secret. Why would he start now?"

"Neither a yes nor a no, Diego. It leads me to draw my own conclusions," Francisco said softly. "Especially as I know your aversion to lying."

Diego sighed. "What if I was?"

"Well, I wouldn't challenge you for one thing," he said. Diego chuckled a little with his friend. "I would pressure you to tell certain people."

"I can't…I don't think Zorro would, could do that," Diego said.

"He should. How can Zorro live like he is living? Without friends to support him he must suffer immensely," Francisco said. "Surely friends and family would be a safe place to fall. He wouldn't mistrust them?"

"Zorro would dislike the idea that someone could pressure someone like Victoria to reveal certain information. It would put her life in danger," Diego said stubbornly. "Now, Francisco. I really am sleepy. The doctor said I have concussion. I'm sure sleep is a priority."

"You seem pretty clear headed, although a little woozy around the edges. Are you going to milk it for all its worth, de la Vega?"

"Go downstairs and greet your brother."

"I will, but I'll send up someone to sit with you."

Diego turned to face the wall, and Francisco smiled as he closed the door.

Zzz

Alejandro went up, after Francisco mentioned the need, and Diego was asleep. He was a little concerned about his son, especially his uncharacteristic anger, but after a few moments of thought, put it all down to concussion.

He had been so worried about Diego, seeing him in the dust. His ankle looked so painful and swollen, and his face was so pale. It would take a little while to recover from the accident.

Where had that spurt of speed come from? The murmurs of the people around him had exaggerated the speed surely? But the child had definitely been rescued at the last minute. Diego was a hero, he realised. He smiled. Something he wanted for so long – a bit of action from his son – had left him feeling sickened. It was a case of be careful what you wish for. It could have been much worse. He could have lost his son.