A few weeks later, Ernesto was sitting on the wood planks in front of his house, his feet dangling off the edge and his back leaning against the wall. He'd had another restless night, so he was mostly just trying to stay awake and fight off the vivid nightmares that he knew would come the second he closed his eyes.

It was early in the day, so not many people were out. Aside from a group of three old ladies playing cards in front of the house across from him and the loud laughter he could hear from a few familiar voices in the distance, the morning was surprisingly silent, and he cherished it. He normally didn't mind being in excitable places or surrounded by noise-- it was something he quickly got used to as his popularity grew-- but this place grated in him significantly with their noise level, and he was glad for the change.

He was also trying to make sense of the feeling that had been slowly taking him over since he'd hung out with Héctor and his friends. Whether it was singing one of the songs he'd tried to banish for years, the relentless joy of every person there once they fell into a rhythm, or the fact that they all turned out to be pretty decent, something in Ernesto had changed since that night.

Somehow, he didn't hate this place as much as he originally did.

He still resented the fact that he wasn't in the higher levels where he belonged, and he was still on less than good terms with the residents... but somehow, Ernesto wasn't as miserable as he was when he first arrived.

And that unnerved him more than anything, to the point where it had kept him up more than nightmares of his death did. Ernesto didn't want to enjoy it here. He didn't want to spend more time with these people, with Héctor. He didn't want to have to endure the feeling of always being on edge, constantly being targeted by the people Héctor called his family. He didn't want to end up like these people: always on the verge of being forgotten, so desparate for relief that this was their only solution.

But try as he might, it was getting harder and harder to treat this as a punishment. Even though he was still counting down the days until he could leave, Ernesto had found a way to tolerate his situation.

And he hated himself for it.

Without noticing, Ernesto had started to doze off, his head leaning back against the wall. But he jolted awake when he heard someone coming towards him, humming something under their breath that Ernesto couldn't make out.

Once the figure stopped walking, Ernesto turned to stare at them, blinking blearily in the dim but harsh light from the lampost above him. When he saw Héctor staring down at him with his head tilted to the right and a concerned expression on his face, Ernesto rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked accusingly, turning away.

"Looking for you," Héctor answered without much emotion. He knelt down next to Ernesto and sat with him, watching the people walking and chatting on the wood planks across from them.

Ever since they'd sung together that one night, Héctor's enthusiasm toward Ernesto had disappeared. He still showed concern and kindness like he was doing now, but there was less energy behind it and more of a bitterness instead. An obligation. Ernesto guessed that the two of them singing in front of people had opened up uncomfortable memories for Héctor. It did the same for Ernesto too. And it was obvious that Héctor resented Ernesto for stealing his songs, which that night seemed to emphasize sharply.

Ernesto wondered why Héctor was here, then, if neither of them were in the mood for conversation. A feeling of annoyance surfaced when Ernesto turned to look at Héctor again.

"What are you going to force me to do this time?" he asked with a roll of his eyes.

Héctor shrugged, dangling his legs over the edge of the wood and swinging them back and forth rhythmicly. He looked at Ernesto for a second and then looked down, then stared at him again, which Ernesto vaguely remembered as something he did when he was either lying or didn't want to say something.

Ernesto sighed impatiently, staring at Héctor with one eyebrow raised. "Well?"

Héctor looked straight ahead, his hands folded in his lap casually. "I was wondering if you would like to go swimming with us today," he said after a moment, still avoiding Ernesto's eyes.

Swimming?

Ernesto scoffed, both at Héctor's hesitance and at the randomness of the request. He leaned back with a roll of his eyes and was about to say no when he thought of something, a memory fighting to the surface against his will.

He thought of a long time ago, when he and Héctor had been younger and were hanging out at the deep lake a few blocks behind their house. Ernesto had said something that sent Héctor throwing his head back in laughter from where he stood. He overbalanced and had fallen in with a sharp scream, sending Ernesto panicking when more than a few seconds had gone by and his friend didn't break to the surface. He'd jumped in, just barely spotting Héctor's skinny frame in the murky water, just minutes away from passing out. Ernesto had dragged Héctor out of the water, both of them soaking wet and coughing, Héctor struggling to breath.

Héctor never went into any body of water ever again.

Ernesto gave Héctor a stern look, pulling his legs up from the edge of the wood. He reached out and slapped Héctor's arm so hard that he yelped.

"Are you forgetting something, Héctor?" he hissed.

"What?" Héctor asked as he winced in pain, rubbing his arm and staring warily at Ernesto.

Ernesto shot a hostile look at the ladies across from them who had stopped their card game to watch the conversation. When they turned away, Ernesto regarded Héctor again and lowered his voice. "You can't swim, remember?"

Héctor rolled his eyes. "I know."

A burst of laughter sounded in the distance, and Ernesto waited for it to pass before speaking. "Then why would you do it?" he asked accusingly.

Héctor looked irritated, as if the answer should've been obvious. "Because that's not the only thing that happens. Mi familia hangs out down there--"

"They are not your family," Ernesto reminded him.

"--and it's nice to be around them," Héctor continued, his eyes holding a warning in them as he glared in Ernesto's direction.

Ernesto rolled his eyes and sighed. Though he tried to deny it, he was worried. Even though he knew that no one could drown since they were all dead, he couldn't stop picturing this outing ending badly, with Héctor sinking below the water and not coming back up.

Ernesto supressed a shiver and turned to Héctor, forcing a bold look onto his face. "I'm coming with you."

Héctor smirked with a surprised laugh. "Why do you look so serious? Are you worried about me?"

"Never," Ernesto responded quickly, even though that wasn't true. Even when he didn't want to, he always worried about his friend. And Héctor always saw it.

Héctor's expression softened as he stood up. "It'll be alright, Ernesto. We've done this before and nothing has ever happened."

He held out a hand, and Ernesto reluctantly let Héctor help him up. He followed his friend and tried to push his feelings of dread away.

As expected, the group of people waiting for them were very excited to see Héctor, cheering and inviting him to sit with them. No one greeted Ernesto, but he caught a few curious looks thrown his way, irritated raised brows from Lorenzo, a wary but somewhat intrigued gaze from Ramiro, and even half of a smile from Carlos. Ernesto guessed that all of these reactions had something to do with them watching him and Héctor play music weeks ago. The animosity hadn't faded away, but maybe the barriers that Ernesto had put up when he first arrived were cracked just a little.

Ernesto allowed himself to glance down. The water surrounding all of them looked very deep-- at least deep enough that sinking was possible, and once again the image of Héctor drowning filled his mind. He risked a glance up, watching Héctor talk animatedly with Lorenzo a few feet away as the man offered him a drink from the table behind them, and his nonexsistent heart clenched. He didn't know why he cared so much-- if he were where he belonged, he wouldn't care what was happening in Héctor's afterlife.

But when Héctor locked eyes with him over Lorenzo's shoulder and offered a weak smile, the feeling became stronger, and all Ernesto could think was: He better not drown.

Lorenzo followed Héctor's gaze and saw Ernesto watching them. His expression darkened, and he slammed his drink down, spilling it over his hand. He rolled his eyes and pointed to Ernesto, glaring in Héctor's direction.

"I invited you here to spend time with you, primo, not to have your stupid amigo tag along," he said, pointing sharply at where Ernesto stood.

Carlos, who was waist-deep in the water, nodded and folded his arms over his wetsuit. "Yeah. We haven't gotten to be alone with you since he got here. It's bad enough that he still has to live with us for the next few months." Big drops of water dripped from his hair into his eyes, but he still gave Ernesto a hard stare and didn't seem to notice.

Héctor gripped his right wrist and stared off to the side, looking guilty. "I know, but--"

"No, you don't know," came a voice from Ernesto's left. He turned to his side to see Ramiro with a fiercer expression on his face than Ernesto thought him capable of, stomping his foot on the wood beneath him. His hands were tight fists at his sides as he stared at Héctor, the crack that split his face making him look more threatening. "It was okay when you stuck to Ernesto's side when he first got here, but now you're overdoing it. It's driving everyone crazy, and you barely seem like yourself anymore. This has to stop, it really does."

Murmurs of angry agreement sounded everywhere, especially from Lorenzo and the three people who'd joined Carlos in the water.

Héctor threw up his hands in exasperation, almost knocking over his drink and losing his balance when he did. He threw a piercing glare in Ramiro's direction with his arms crossed. "If he were anyone else, you would be okay with him staying," he snarled, taking one step forward. Ernesto cringed when he realized that Héctor was just a few inches from slipping.

An older women on the other side of the water, wearing a grey swimsuit instead of a wetsuit like everyone else, sneered and rolled her eyes. "If he were someone else, he would actually deserve what we've given him!" she shouted, her hand cupped over her mouth to make the sound carry.

With those words, Héctor's body went tense, his eyes crackling with rage, his mouth a tight line. He looked like he was either trying not to cry or on the verge of snapping.

Ernesto took a sharp breath when he realized that Héctor had stepped so close to the edge that he was only half standing on the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ernesto saw Lorenzo take a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. He shot a quick glare Ernesto's way and stepped up to where Héctor was standing, slowly reaching his hand out to Héctor's shoulder.

"Héctor," he called. "Just calm d--"

Héctor jerked out of Lorenzo's grasp, but the second he did, a loud crack sounded from where he stood, and Ernesto whipped around see Héctor's body tilt backwards as he fell into the water.

People startled and yelled as soon as they saw, the people in the water diving down to see if they could find him. But after a few seconds, Carlos came back up, his hair slicked back and his eyes filled with fear.

"I can't find him," he said. His voice trembled and broke in the middle of the sentence.

At moment, a jolt of fear threatened to paralyze Ernesto where he stood. His mind fought with him-- he shouldn't care what was happening, he and Héctor weren't friends anymore, drowning was impossible when they were already dead-- but for once, he didn't care. He shoved through the crowd of people standing at the edge and jumped in, the icy cold taking over his body and bubbles swarming around his vision.

Ernesto didn't know why, but he was holding his breath as he frantically swam underwater looking for his friend. The water was so murky that he could only see two feet in front of him, but he still looked, holding his arms out in front of himand holding on to the wood planks next to him to push himself forward.

Just when he was feeling like he was running out of air, Ernesto saw Héctor in front of him. He was still flailing around trying to swim upward, but Ernesto could tell that he was getting tired, his movements less urgent, his eyes closing. It was as if he actually was drowning, a fact that only doubled Ernesto's panic.

Without a second thought, Ernesto charged forward, wrapping both of his arms around Héctor's waist and using the last of his energy to hoist the two of them up.

When they broke to the surface, Ernesto pulled him and Héctor onto the ground. Both of them were shaking, their hair matted to their foreheads. Héctor was coughing, barely able to lift himself to stand up. Ernesto knelt in front of him, holding out his hand before he knew he was doing it. When he felt Héctor's grip the two of them slowly stood, and everyone rushed over to them, some cheering, but most of them with worry in their eyes as they crowded around Héctor to see if he was okay.

Ernesto was still trying to calm down from the earlier adrenaline he'd felt. His wet clothes felt heavy and made it hard for him to supress shivering. As he watched Héctor's friends crowding around him, a hollow feeling invaded his chest.

Ernesto didn't know why he was feeling this way. Why he cared about Hector when the two of them hadn't spoken in years, why he was starting to like this stupid town and its awful people, why he felt a sense of affection and gratitude that he, honestly, hadn't felt since he and Héctor were alive. When they were still friends and when Héctor's wife and daughter hadn't gotten in the way of everything.

But as he and Héctor made brief eye contact, the feeling only became stronger. And Ernesto wasn't bothered by it at all.

Once all of Héctor's friends quieted down, Ernesto gave him a half smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, his voice lowered so no one else could hear.

Héctor nodded, a cautious grin forming on his face.

As the group dispersed and everyone headed home, Ernesto kept the image of Héctor's expression in his mind, feeling happy for the first time since he'd gotten here.