Author's Notes: I know everyone has already written their own version of those events, but those thoughts just wouldn't leave my mind. You know how it is. So there you go. This is mostly canon-compliant. I've just added a couple scenes that might not completely fit the show's timeline to the letter, but I've always thought we were robbed a better closure at the end of that "Ride Into Terror."
Many thanks to my faithful beta Sting for all the editing work. 3
They're stranded in the wood.
Or so it feels, even though Zorro and Alejandro are actually only taking cover behind rocks and bushes on their own property, while Tornado is leading the soldiers away on a wild goose chase. Diego knows exactly where they are – there isn't an inch of the area he doesn't know by heart – though he vaguely hopes his father hasn't noticed how close they are from their hacienda.
Diego is doing his best to focus on his father's wound all the while pretending not to pay attention to his old man's words. It appears to be a flesh wound, not immediately life threatening, but it still needs prompt care to stop the bleeding and avoid infection. Careful not to look directly at him, Diego takes his father's necktie and improvises a makeshift bandage with it. At least it will keep the wound clean until they reach the safety of his secret cave.
It isn't ideal to take his father there, but Diego doesn't have any better idea. They are both fugitives now, they need a safe refuge. But don Alejandro isn't in any shape to ride all the way to the Mission, and the closest place that can keep them away from Monastario's deathly claws is the cave.
Despite Diego's best effort to tune them out, his father's words make their way to him.
It is strange, so strange," don Alejandro is saying to the masked outlaw tending to his injury, and his voice is soft, almost tender. "It is almost as if I had known you. You seem so much like someone I know. I'm a foolish old man with foolish dreams. So often have I dreamed that my son came back from Spain, and he would be like you."
Diego's heart catches in his throat. He doesn't dare make a sound, afraid his father will recognize his voice. He isn't even sure he'd be able to formulate words anyway. He wishes he could comfort his father. Part of him wants to rip off that damn mask and show his old man that his dreams aren't that foolish, that his son really is the hero he wants him to be. But he can't. For his father's own protection, it is better if he doesn't know.
Meanwhile, unaware of the effect of his words are having on the masked bandit, don Alejandro seems unstoppable.
"Now that you're so close," he goes on, "it is so much like my dreams. I feel almost that I could pull aside the mask, and there would be the face of my son, Diego."
He raises his hand and Diego hurries to stop him. With a heavy heart, he gently shakes his head, denying his father the truth still. Instead, he has to focus on saving his father's life. Be practical and efficient. Now is not the time to deal with his immense guilt. The guilt of being such a disappointment to his father. The guilt of denying an injured man his dearest wishes. The guilt of making his father suffer. But damn, how hard it is to keep his resolve, when the man himself is unknowingly repeatedly stabbing at his son's poor heart.
I would not pull away the mask. I would not have the courage," don Alejandro says, with a heartbreaking resignation. "An old man must cling to his dreams as desperately as he clings to life."
It is a relief when don Alejandro, slipping unconscious, finally stops talking. The soldiers are far enough away now, they won't see them. Diego takes his father's limp figure in his arms and lifts him up.
"You'll have many years left, my father, to live and dream," he whispers, hoping will all his heart that he hasn't just made the most cruel mistake of his life.
Alejandro has woken up in a cave that seems rudimentarily refitted as a stable. Zorro's horse, who has reappeared all on his own, is now looking at the intruder curiously, keeping an eye on him as he chews on his hay. Earlier, the outlaw had made Alejandro comfortable, next to a source of water, before disappearing, promising to bring back Diego.
Now Alejandro is waiting, but neither his son, nor his rescuer have come back. He isn't sure how much time has passed but he is starting to grow impatient. With no idea where he is, he can't know how long it could reasonably take Zorro to reach his hacienda and fetch Diego. Alejandro hopes nothing has happened to either of them. Would Monastario dare to arrest Diego? Maybe the Comandante is already surrounding the hacienda, with the hope ofcatching Alejandro on his way home, and thus Zorro cannot reach him.
Although for all he knows, Diego is probably still sound asleep, oblivious of the night's dramatic events.
Alejandro sits up and, plunging his hands in the small stream of water, bends over to drink a little and spray his face. The short rest has restored his forces a little, and he is feeling somewhat better.
He wishes he could contact Diego. He'd feel better knowing his son is safe. What if Monastario has stormed their home, looking for don Alejandro, gloating he has shot him? Diego would be beside himself with worry. He isn't very brave, but he has a good heart. And he is smarter than his father tends to give him credit for. Diego did warn them that it was a bad plan, and he was right. If Zorro hadn't been there, they would have all been caught. Maybe a man of intellect isn't as useless as Alejandro thought, to fight against tyranny. He should probably make an effort to be more attentive to his son's opinion in the future.
But where is this boy of his?
Giving up on the hope of seeing anyone rescue him, Alejandro slowly rises to his feet. If no help is coming, he is determined to save himself. Alejandro de la Vega is no quitter.
He hesitates on the direction to take. He can't remember which way Zorro disappeared earlier, but seeing a faint light coming through the thick wall of vines on his right, he stumbles toward them. Training his hands along the stony wall, he finds an opening and walks through the foliage. Outside, the sun is already high in the sky, and he squints his eyes against the blinding light. Determined to figure his way home, Alejandro walks on.
Diego is on the verge of exploding. Put on house arrest, like a criminal. Stuck in his home with Garcia and his lancers. Under other circumstances, he might have appreciated the company, but not today. Not when his father is bleeding out in the cave and in urgent need of care. He is so on edge that he has been this close to engaging a fight with Monastario armed only with a fire poker. At least, the comandante has had the sensible idea to leave them. Diego will have a much easier time escaping the surveillance of his easily wine-corruptible subordinates. It's an easy enough plan, but its execution is taking an excruciating long time – at least that's how it feels, as he puts on a brave smile and serves more wine to the lancers.
How much time has passed? An hour? An hour and a half? Surely no more than two hours. As he finally manages to escape his wardens and rush back to his room to change, he can't stop worrying about his father. Hopefully, he's still awake, and hopefully, he has been wise enough to wait and rest, in the safety of the cave. Rarely has Diego changed clothes and sped down the tunnel so fast. And yet, he is too late, his father is gone. Frustrated and anxious, Diego drops the useless supplies he has brought, and approaches Tornado. At least this one is where he's supposed to be.
"Sorry, buddy," Diego says as he puts the heavy saddle back on and jumps swiftly on the horse' back. "We're not done for the day. We've got to find Father."
Fearing the worst but still forcing himself to hope for the best, Diego starts searching through their land. Injured as he is, his father can't have wandered too far.
He hears voices – one of them sounds awfully like Monastario's, and his heart skips a beat. What he sees, when he catches up with them, is even worse than he imagined. Monastario has found don Alejandro first. The poor don, barely able to stand on his feet, is still trying to defend himself as the soldiers, led by their despicable comandante are circling him, toying with him, as if hunting a wild animal.
Diego feels rage boiling inside him as he calls out Monastario. The Captain orders a private to throw him a lance and Diego catches it angrily, immediately launching Tornado to charge forward. Oh the Capitán is lucky that Diego's old master not only taught him the fine art of fencing, but also the importance of self-control, no matter how dire the circumstances. Because otherwise, Monastario would have likely found himself skewered on that lance.
Yet, Diego is in no mood to joust with the comandante, so he makes the fight as short as possible, quickly unhorsing his vile opponent and pining him to the ground with his lance. Before the lancers can react, he pushes Tornado toward his father, stopping just long enough for don Alejandro to climb behind him and launches his horse again at full gallop. Alejandro, barely conscious, is leaning heavily against his back, but his hold on Zorro's waist is surprisingly strong. The man is determined to live. And his son is determined not to let him down. Ever.
Just when he thinks he can finally get his father to safety, Diego spots another group of soldiers ahead. He quickly adjusts his course, but behind them, Monastario has managed to launch the pursuit, catching them in a vice. Changing direction again, Diego is about to take his chance through the hills when a familiar voice calls him. With relief, he recognizes don Nacho. The neighbor to the de la Vegas has been branded a traitor by Monastario and arrested last month. He only escaped the gallows thanks to Zorro's miraculous help. He then fled to Monterrey and surrendered himself to the Governor in the hope that a fair trial would allow him to clear his name and he is just now coming back to Los Angeles to be tried. The group of soldiers is the escort he's been put under.
Diego is not exactly comfortable handing over his father to the authorities, but this Sergeant from Monterrey seems to be an honest man. At this point, the most urgent thing is for don Alejandro to receive medical care. They'll have to deal with the possible charges of treason later. Of course, Monastario tries once again to interfere, and once again, Diego feels the urge to run him through. Thankfully Sergeant Espinoza, the man guarding don Nacho, is not intimidated in the least and promises to provide safe conduct for don Nacho and don Alejandro up to Los Angeles.
But his protection doesn't extend to the masked outlaw, and Diego must, once again, abandon his father, while Monastario chases after him.
Upset to have been thwarted by a simple Sergent, Monastario conducts a particularly persistent chase. Diego has to lead them all the way to Devil's Canyon. It is a risky move, especially given it's been a long night for both he and Tornado. But the good horse, sensing his master's urgency, does not fail him, and jumps over the precipice with disconcerting ease. On the other side, Monastario is fuming, but doesn't dare attempt the jump. Finally, he gives up on the chase, and Diego heaves a long and exhausted sigh of relief as he pats the neck of his faithful friend. Evidently proud of himself, Tornado shakes his mane in the wind.
Now, all they have to do is to rush back to the hacienda before Monastario can notice his absence.
This time, Alejandro comes to as pain rips through his side. It takes him a moment to put his thoughts together. Dr. Avila's face is hovering over him, and he breaks into a satisfied smile as he brandishes bloody tweezers. Alejandro's anxiety spikes until he realizes there's a shiny bullet at the end of the instrument. It has already been retrieved and Alejandro is grateful to his body for only waking him up once it was done.
"He's awake," Dr. Avila says softly, and his voice is betraying real concern.
Another face enters Alejandro's field of view, and for a second his heart longs for Diego. But as his gaze focuses on the man's silhouette, he quickly realizes he's too lean and too short to fit Diego's stature.
Instead, it's don Nacho who materializes.
"Welcome back, old friend," Nacho says, and Alejandro smiles weakly.
Looking beyond them, Alejandro tries to make out his surroundings. He's in a tiny room, with three walls made of run-down adobe, while the fourth one just consists of thick bars. Prison, fantastic. That explains the rough bedding and the draft.
He grits his teeth as the doctor finishes sewing his wound. It has been decades since he last had such an injury. He was a young and fearless officer in the Royal Army of Spain then, and really, he didn't miss those sorts of predicaments. He sighs with relief when the doctor finally stops touching his painful side.
"How bad?" he asks. He hates how weak his voice sounds.
"Not too bad, considering. It's mostly torn muscles. Though I wish you had been brought to me much sooner, you have lost an unnecessary amount of blood."
Alejandro glances down at his torn shirt, plastered with dry blood. It has indeed been a long night. Some events come back to him in fragments. Zorro, Diego. Monastario. No, Diego never came. Or did he? His memory is partial and confused.
The doctor helps him drink a glass of water. "Get some rest, don Alejandro."
Just as he's about to ask about Diego, a commotion outside the cell catches their attention. Don Nacho turns around, and the doctor stands up to see what is going on at the cuartel's doors. From where he is, lying on the crude bed of the prison cell, Alejandro can't see, but he can hear, and what he hears make him smile despite himself. It's Diego, and he sounds very upset.
"Let me in! I demand to see my father! You've tried my patience enough, Monastario! I swear to God, I'll have you… reported to the governor."
Alejandro rolls his eyes. Like the name of the governor has ever scared the Comandante. Yet, there is something heartwarming in hearing his son rebelling on his behalf.
"Ah, thank you, Sergeant Espinoza." Diego says again, much calmer. "It's nice to finally meet an upstanding officer of the Crown. I am Diego de la Vega, son of don Alejandro. I am not here to argue about my father's actions, but it is my understanding that he's been injured, and I simply wish to see him."
"Of course, Señor de la Vega. The doctor is with him right now. Please, follow me."
Finally, Diego appears at the door of the cell. Blue suit, hair combed, cravat perfectly tied, his appearance is impeccable as usual. But Alejandro knows his son well enough to see the exhaustion on his drawn face. He probably hasn't slept, worried that his father hadn't come home. Alejandro feels at the same time touched and vaguely guilty that his son has been waiting for him all night.
"Father," Diego breathes. "Gentlemen."
He is relieved to see Alejandro awake and in good company, and he visibly relaxes. The officer invites the doctor to leave, but does not allow Diego to enter, so he stays outside the cell, both hands gripping the bars.
"I'm alright, Son," Alejandro reassures him quickly, as the Sergeant leaves with the doctor. "Thanks to Doctor Avila."
"You didn't come home. I was so worried! What happened? Monastario wouldn't tell me anything."
His eyes furtively catch fire as he mentions the Comandante's name. He seems uncharacteristically mad at the officer. Does he know it was Monastario that shot his father? Alejandro sits up on his bed, wincing at the pain shooting from his wound. He groans but dismisses don Nacho's help.
"What happened is that you were right all along, my son. They were waiting for us. And if it wasn't for Zorro, we would all have been caught – or dead. I got shot, but Zorro helped me escape, took care of me, and brought me to my dear friend here."
"Gracias a Dios for your good timing, don Nacho," Diego said, a small smile finally creeping on his face. "It's good to see you again, despite the dire circumstances."
"Oh I didn't do much. You should be thanking El Zorro. He's the one who rescued your father."
Alejandro refrains from pointing out that the outlaw has come to his rescue twice in a single night. While he is sincerely grateful to the famous fox, he isn't feeling particularly proud of his own nocturnal adventures.
Diego glances at him but quickly looks away. "Zorro, eh?"
He's trying to sound casual, but Alejandro detects a hint of sadness. Is he bothered that Zorro rescued his father instead of him? Or is Alejandro projecting his own feelings onto his son? The last thing he wants is to be resentful toward him, but he can't help that little voice at the back of his head, whispering that it should have been Diego coming to his aid, not some random outlaw.
"I'm really sorry I wasn't there, Father," Diego adds softly. "I really tried, but Monastario had me under guard all night and…" He sighs and passes a hand through his hair. Once again, Alejandro notices how tired he looks.
"It's alright, Diego, really."
"I shouldn't have let you go alone. I should have come with you."
Unexpectedly, that hits Alejandro hard. Had Diego come with him like he had hoped, he might have been injured too – or worse. Zorro wouldn't have been able to save them both. Something could have happened to Diego, and Alejandro would never have been able to forgive himself. Maybe it is just as well that Diego is a pacifist, a man of letters, and not the sort of man to stupidly throw himself into danger.
Monastario materializes outside the cell and all three men grow tense. Diego straightens up and looks at the officer right in the eyes, before reluctantly taking his leave, promising to come back to visit the following day to discuss the two prisoners' upcoming trial.
Diego does not truly breathe until his father, free and cleared of all charges, is sitting by his side, as he's driving them home. It wasn't the cleanest trial, Zorro had to force the licenciado's hand. But what matters is that don Alejandro and don Nacho were declared not guilty on all those ridiculous charges, by the Court of Law. They're free, and there is nothing Monastario can do about it.
Later today, they will all celebrate together at the Torres rancho. No doubt it will be a great and joyous fiesta, with food, music, and great company. Rather too much company. The past few days, Diego barely had any time to breathe, lest get any sleep. He would have rather have just gone home and finally rest.
"Are you alright, Son? You've been pretty quiet."
Diego startles slightly and straightens up, trying to shake up the fatigue that is crashing down on him. But he can't really share with his father anything of what he has gone through, so he puts on a jovial smile that he doesn't really feel.
"Of course," he says automatically. "I'm fine. It's a real relief to see you free." Seeing that his father is not fooled by his efforts, he confesses: "I've been a bit on edge the past few days. I haven't slept much."
It comes out almost despite himself. He's not even sure if he's talking as Diego or Zorro – does it even make a difference? – but naturally don Alejandro doesn't know that.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from Monastario," Diego says. "I did everything I could, but that wasn't enough."
His father could have died, so many times. Either from Monastario's vengeful hand, or from the noose, if the trial had gone the way the Comandante had hoped it to. What even is the point of being the village's hero if he can't protect his own father?
Don Alejandro smiles softly at him, and for once, there isn't any hint of judgment or rebuff. Has prison made the proud hidalgo turn soft? It isn't that often that he allows himself to display any sign of tenderness, especially toward that lazy son of his. But today, he appears genuinely happy to be reunited with him, and shows no sign of resentment for seemingly not having done a thing to rescue him – that he was aware of anyway. Diego has to admit, he's quite relieved about it.
"Don't beat yourself up, Diego. It was all my fault, and my entire responsibility."
"Even so, Father. If anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself."
"I believe I owe you an apology, actually. You were right, and I didn't listen to you. I've had time to think, in that cell, waiting for my trial. I acted hastily, and I almost got all the dons arrested. As you said, direct force against the Comandante will not get us anywhere. We need to be smarter. I will make an effort to listen to you more, in the future."
This time, Diego's smile is genuine. Who would have thought, eh? It all ends well after all. Until Monastario's next nefarious plan. But no doubt, the de la Vegas will be there to thwart it. Father and son, as always.
Ze End.
Notes: I hope you all liked this! I have other stories in the work, but I feel a bit guilty dropping them all on my beta, so I was wondering if there were anyone out there in the Zorro fandom who would like to beta-read a story or two in the future. Thank you 3