The sky is cloudless, the stars bright and the moon full.

“Hold on! Hold on, brother, we’re almost there!”

Juans breath is as ragged as the horses, his eyes filled with desperate tears.

“Just a little further, the hospital’s just here, it’s just here!”

The stars jitter and bounce as Pablo’s head bumps and rolls, his eyes glassy as they stare into the heavens.

“Just… Hold on…”

Juan looks back and lets out a heartbroken sob. The horse slows to a stop as he crawls into the back, gibbering promises and affection. He asks, begs for his twin to hold on. He mumbles for him to keep fighting. He wraps his arms around him, pulls him close, willing his body heat, his very life into his brother.

Trees rustle in the breeze. The stars twinkle far, far above. Somewhere nearby, the sea crashes and roars. Here, in the dark, this little cart with it’s little lives barely matter to the world.

Here, a brother’s broken screams barely reach the birds, let alone the brilliant stars.

He remains there, knelt, unable to cry, only drink in every detail of the person who’d been by his side since birth.

“I… I was supposed to protect you.” He mewls, “It’s the older brother’s duty, I… It wasn’t supposed to be like this… It was fun though, right? It was fun, it was fun…”

He stumbles to his feet, eyes turned to the stars, and begins to pray. His mouth moves wordlessly, asking for his soul back, asking for him to rest easy now. Tears finally come. They tumble down his face unhampered. Once more, he lets out a wordless scream that’s lost in moments.

A light at the corner of his eye draws his gaze back to Earth. The rumble of hooves travel with a swaying lantern held aloft by a familiar, treacherous hand. Juan sees a horse bearing two riders travel north, barely visible through the trees.

“Change of plans, brother.” Juan murmurs through growing hysterical giggles, “We’re not going to the hospital. We’re going to get even.”

Despite the hour, Adelita tears through the woods at breakneck speeds. They barely make it to the cliff, passing a black bandana caught in the trees. The horse collapses, gasping, barely within town. La Fusilada simply picks up Xoc and carries him through the street. Lights come on in a few houses, faces appearing in doorways as she runs pell-mell down the streets of Progresso.

Finally, she finds a familiar place in the dark. A little house right on the shore, standing on a wide pier, a familiar little boat docked alongside. She takes the rickety stairs two at a time, though she’s bathed in light before she reaches the top.

“Adelita?”

She looks up slowly, her breath fast, though whether it was from the run or the anticipation even she could not tell. She lays eyes on her parents once more. They look a little more tired, a tiny bit older, their faces much the same, though now locked in wide-eyed shock.

“Hey.” is all she can get out, “I’m back.”

They sit around the bed, tension filling the air strong enough to play a song on. Adelita’s mother works intently, weaving a delicate network of stitches on her patient. Her father holds the lantern over the bed, his black eyes glancing between his daughter and their guest as he stroked his gnarled beard. Adelita sits with hands on knees, eyes fixed on the floor, her knuckles white.

Finally, her mother sits back with a sigh. “Best I can do here, dear. He’ll make it, but... this isn’t Veracruz, mija. I don’t have the supplies and… I haven’t done this in years. He’ll be lucky if he can talk again.”

Adelita finally relaxes, almost collapsing against the back of her chair in relief. She brings her eyes up to meet theirs and her heart freezes. There in her parent’s eyes is a mix of emotions. Emotions she’s familiar with, affection, love, even a touch of pride. But with it was a whole new set of fear, concern, and worst of all, horror. Her father’s bass rumble fills the seaside cabin, only a single word uttered forth.

“Talk.”

And so she did. With eyes locked on the rafters, she recounts her time at university and the friends she made. She talks about the freedoms, but also the restrictions she, a woman, faced in the city. She talks about how that all fell away when she was conscripted, told she was an equal when she fought for the city, for the country, for her family and her freedom. She talks about the crushing defeat, about her capture, about watching her new friends face the firing line one at a time. She talks in great detail of her turn in their sights, talks through horrified gasps and jaw clenching curses, talks about her recovery and her vow for revenge. She describes the murders she commited and those she didn’t commit, but somehow still wished she had. She tells them of almost coming home and her growing fears that, with all that she’s seen, all that she’s become, she couldn’t be accepted anywhere anymore, least of all here. As the sun begins to rise, she talks about Xoc and how little he meant to her until it was almost too late.

When she finishes, she finally meets her family's eyes again. They’re filled with tears, but where the horror and dismay had been, they’re now replaced with an overwhelming sadness. Without a word, the two move around the bed, kneeling to wrap their arms around her. At first, Adelita could only breath and stare into the distance. However, slowly, the ice around her heart cracked the slightest amount. Her breath turns ragged and fast. She begins to shake as she cries out the pain that has been growing for so long.

From there, they prepare her a meal and a bed. She eats, though she tastes nothing. She moves slowly, as though lost. They move like delicate spiders around her, each movement in her vicinity ginger like handling intricate glass. If she was any less tired, she would have been irritated, even upset at their soft touch, but sleep rushed up to greet her before she could say a word more.