He sat up, struggling to escape Morpheus's hold on him. It took him a few moments to realize he was in his own bed, his dream being so pleasant, he didn't want to leave it. He had been holding Victoria in his arms, kissing her. It was something he did everyday since their wedding, but he found it too pleasant to forget about during his sleep.

Diego should be use to the lack of sleep, the abrupt awakenings, but he found himself craving an entire night of sleep. He looked over at his wife. Her eyes were blinking in a way that told him her mind refused to believe her body was awake. "They cannot be hungry again."

He laughed, leaning over to kiss her nose. "Of course they are! They are de la Vegas. And boys."

Victoria dragged her arm over to the edge of the blanket. Diego stopped her. "Oh, no, my love, you are going to stay here in this warm bed. I am going to bring them to their supper." Her smile made the effort more than worth it.

He shivered as his feet touched the cold floor. He did not bother to put on his robe. Slowly, he walked towards his sons' room. He would never tell Victoria, but he enjoyed their nightly feedings, enjoyed holding one of them while the other ate. They were special moments, reminding him of his mortality. If they were anything like their father, their parents would be lucky to know where they were at night in a few short years. He had often snuck out, wanting to race across the plains, explore a river, or jump across a gorge. With the spirit their cries showed, he believed they would soon follow in his--and their mother's--footsteps.

He found his father holding them. Diego leaned against the doorjamb and smiled as he watched Alejandro talk to his sons. Don Alejandro, long suffering when it came to his desire to have babies in the de la Vega hacienda, was enjoying every moment of it. He also knew, like everyone else, that he would be hard pressed to get a hold of one of them when Felipe returned from Monterey next month. The de la Vega heir took his role as older brother very seriously. "I think they are wanting their mother," Diego finally said.

His father smiled at him. "Oh, I know they are, Diego. I just wanted to hold them for a minute." Since their deep and emotional talk in the cave, each one of them had struggled to be more open and honest with the other. They had succeeded remarkably well. Father and son were finally comfortable with who they were and who the other one was. They appreciated each other for exactly how they were.

Diego took his sons and wished Don Alejandro a good night. As he walked towards his room, his sons' cries echoed off the walls of the hall. Victoria had refused to hire a wet nurse, and Diego was happy with her choice. They both wanted to be good parents to the little ones.

They also wanted to leave the world a better place for them. Secretly, they had begun to help those in the area who struggled with abuse. It had become obvious after SeƱor Flores's death by the alcalde that his wife had been terrified and harmed by his frequent rages. Victoria began to keep a close eye on the women of the pueblo. When she noticed one whose arms were always bruised, or who seemed unusually afraid, she told Diego about it. He found out what he could before they approached the woman, offering her a chance to escape. Some of the women took it eagerly, but others made the choice to stay--some for religious reasons, some for their children's sake, and some because they believed it was what they deserved. So far no one had found out what they were doing, but they were willing to stand up for it if anyone challenged them.

Also, Diego, with the help of his father and wife, began to forgive himself. He often thought of a little boy's laughter, but he made the decision to go past it and work on saving other children that needed help. He walked into his room, and his heart lifted at the sight of his wife. She reached for one of her son's and eagerly brought him to her breast for his nightly feed. The other one stopped crying. It was a nightly ritual that amazed their parents. Both cried until one began to eat. The second the one stopped crying, the other one did, too. It was something Diego and Victoria were thankful for, with Victoria not wanting to hold them both at the same time to feed.

Diego sat in a chair next to wife, amazed at the wonders in his life. Everyone in the pueblo seemed to accept his sudden courtship and marriage of Victoria without question. From the smiles and the thanks he received, he thought that Zorro's identity was probably an open secret in Los Angeles. No one ever mentioned it, but then no one ever talked about the masked man anymore. At least, not around him.

He looked over to the closed window, noticing the moonlight playing on the white curtains. The second day of their marriage, Victoria had decided to redo his room. The red was too masculine, she had pronounced, but he thought that she knew what was in his heart. The red curtains brought back too many horrible memories and thoughts for him.

He leaned forward and kissed his wife. She looked at him, a question in her eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. She leaned over to return the kiss, letting him know that she felt the same way. He was her every dream come true, too.