Epilogue: June 13, 1813

Although they made it to bed a good two hours before sunrise, it was a long time before Diego had gone to sleep. He'd been unable to get comfortable. He'd needed the window open and then another blanket because it was cold. He'd fretted about Ramone-what kind of man ordered his men to fire on approaching riders when they were searching for a missing baby? Twice he had sent Felipe to check on Gilberto...who was asleep both times.

Felipe had wanted to shake him. Diego needed rest, and he must, must know that. But he was too nervous to settle, and Felipe couldn't actually blame him. He'd dug a hunk of rock out of his brother's flesh. He'd had Gilberto's blood all over his hands. There were still bits of brown in the creases around his fingernails. Because Gilberto had been shot at because he was Zorro and that was all Diego's idea.

And maybe Felipe wasn't even in a hurry for Diego to go to sleep, because when he did Felipe would have to crawl into his bedroll, wouldn't he? And he'd close his eyes and hear Natasha crying or see the blood dripped all over the worktable or remember Gilberto's hiss as Diego tried to burn the infection out of the wound.

He sat on the bed and held Diego's hand. He couldn't fuss and worry forever; even as upset as he was, he was still exhausted and ill and it wasn't too much longer before he faded into sleep and Felipe shifted to the chair by the open window.

He listened to the birds as the sun came up. They had saved the baby. And Felipe had helped, although certainly not in a way that did him any credit. But never mind. She was safe. And Gilberto wasn't badly hurt. And Diego-as exhausted and upset as he'd been, he hadn't fainted or gotten sick. That was a good sign, surely. He might be getting stronger.

When the sun was fully up Felipe borrowed a little water from the basin to wash his face. And then he went to the dining room where Don Alejandro was sitting down alone to breakfast. He took a deep breath and stepped out where he could be seen.

"Felipe? What's wrong?" From the way Don Alejandro blanched Felipe must look terrible. "Diego?"

Felipe shook his head vigorously. "Not sick," he signed quickly. "Just...a bad night. Not sick, but restless." Felipe swallowed. "Unhappy. Uncomfortable. Nervous." And this was the truth, wasn't it? "We finally got him settled. Gilberto has gone to bed. He's exhausted. It's very hard for him..." The truth and the lie ran together. Felipe remembered Gilberto limping through the house. "It was bad," he said, and folded his hands.

"Ah. I'd wondered. Do I need to call the doctor?"

Felipe shook his head. "He just suggests the sleeping medicine. Diego won't take it."

Don Alejandro nodded gravely. "We'll let them sleep then. You haven't slept either."

No, he hadn't. He supposed he was starting to want to.

"Go to bed, Felipe. Come get me when Diego wakes. I'll stay home today."

Felipe nodded and returned to Diego's room.

~End

Saving the Fox IV is coming. It is currently 93 pages and counting, and I won't start posting until it is all finished, so it may be a few weeks.

Also-if there are any eps from season 1 anyone really, really, really wants to see here, well I'll give any advice I get very serious consideration.