Chapter Text
Pedro held his sleeping babies close to himself, tears still streaming down his face as he leaned against the bedframe in the replica of their old home. His wife was gone. Alma was taken from him. He shuddered as another quiet sob escaped him. She sacrificed herself for them. The look of love and sorrow in her eyes blazed into his memory. The sight of her cut down, as he was helpless to save her, haunted him.
He couldn't protect her. She was dead because he wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't bold enough. He knew he would never stop mourning the loss of the night before. Those monsters who he refused to see as human took everything from him.
Bruno, sweet tiny Bruno, the youngest of his triplets, awoke and began to cry. Pedro gently rocked him back and forth with his sisters, shushing gently. The poor boy was inconsolable. He knew what his son wanted. But it was impossible to grant his wish.
"I know, I know, bebé, I'm not mama." Bruno only ever wanted Alma. It broke his heart all over again, knowing that his Brunito will never be held by her again. He had to care for them all on his own.
The magical house, Casita, had been a fright at first, he wasn't sure he could trust a sentient house not to harm them. But he was worried for nothing, it seemed. The house was just as much a part of the magic that had saved the rest of them. It was part of the miracle born from his selfless wife's love for them.
He would rather her be here with them than have a magical candle but… he wouldn't reject this refuge. It was a beautiful land surrounded by mountains that had grown around them, a protective barrier away from the war, away from those who would wish them harm. A place his ninos could grow up safe and loved. A place his village could thrive.
The village… they were looking to him for guidance. He didn't know what to do. He was so overwhelmed, so lost in grief. He wasn't a leader. But he had to try. He looked at the candle sitting on the windowsill. He had to protect the magic. He knew human nature. The villagers could very well try to take the magic for themselves if he wasn't careful. Greed was a powerful motivator. He wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't put his babies at risk.
Julieta and Pepa awoke, crying for food. Casita gently rolled a bottle of warm milk towards him. He wasn't sure how a house made food out of thin air, but after everything he's seen over the past twelve hours, he was willing to believe anything. He fed them one by one, all the while his heart throbbed with a deep ache that would scar him for the rest of his life.
His ninos were so frail, so tiny and helpless. Only a few days old and with only him to care for them. He gives them each a soft kiss on their foreheads. When they settled down with full tummies, he refused to set them down into their crib. He refused to sleep, to let them out of his sight for even a moment. What if something bad happened and he was asleep? What if Casita was just a trick and would disappear the moment he slept?
No, he would guard them with his life. He would ensure that they never felt alone. He would not allow this new home to be taken from them. He would not let his wife's death be in vain. He would not let any harm come to his children. He would devote his life to them, to his family, so they never know the same pain of loss that he had. Everything he had will be theirs. They will never know a day without love. He will give them everything. And he will never, ever allow them to come in harm's way.
"I promise you, Alma. They will be safe. Always. Your gift will be treasured forever. I swear to you, I will protect them."
Sleep did not come for him that night. In fact, an easy sleep was a luxury he would not allow himself to have for a long, long time.