The day was dark and gloomy as rain fell in thick waves over the small quiet little town of San Vivida, Mexico. As the rain was falling, many of the quiet friendly villagers hid in their small homes spending time with their families telling stories and the like. However not all was peaceful; at the edge of the village where the rich farmland laid, a short middle aged man ran as much as he could despite his disability in his leg while he carried a small baby in his arms. He had found the newborn abandoned in the forest and as a kind nurturing man he wouldn't dare leave a baby to die. The best thing he could possibly do was bring the baby to the most respected man in the village; Death. Despite the name, everyone in the village looked up to Death. Many told stories to the children that Death came from a distant magical land, with teachings and magical potions that helped heal the village especially during the times of plague. No matter if it was true or not, all of the village was grateful to him. With the newborn wrapped in cloth and held tightly in his arms, the man known as Jorge knocked quickly on Death's door. He was soaked to the bone, and his cane that he relied on to walk was long discarded back in his hut. As a lonely man, Jorge's only solace was having conversations with Death as well as practicing his love of carving into wood. Often he would carve small toys for children and fashion small furniture for the locals from scraps of wood he would purchase from merchants. With a shiver and a grunt, Jorge held the quiet baby close to his chest. As he was waiting he prayed that the silence didn't mean the baby wasn't alive.

"Por favor, dios mio..." He whispered to himself.

The door creaked open to show a tall man in white robes, a scarlet scarf around his neck, stretching down to his hips. He had short black hair and piercing blue eyes that only matched up to the sky itself. His eyes narrowed at seeing the man standing in the rain, in front of his door out of all places. "Jorge, what are you doing out there?! It is raining! Rapido, inside!" Death insisted, ushering Jorge inside to protect him from the rain before closing the door. To see him in such desperation made Death worry, did something happen to him? "Jorge, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Death asked, walking closer to him, and the bundle in his arms caught his eyes instantly. A child? " What the..." Death didn't mind questioning at the moment, the child was a bit too silent for his comfort. He gently took the child out of Jorge's arms, walking over to the nearest table. He pulled his scarf off, wrapping it around the child as he began to check for a heartbeat, feeling its skin. "Fever." Death walked over to his cabinet, which was filled with colorful medicines of all kind, made out of materials that were naturally found, plants and such. He found the one he was looking for, popping it open as he looked down at the child. "Here here, toma. Te ara bien." Death whispered, ever so gently pouring the medicine for the child to drink. Other than the fever, the small bits of mud on his skin, and the fact that the child was a little thinner than it should be, it seemed fine. Death turned to Jorge, his eyes narrowing. This should be interesting. "Where did you find this child? Whose is it?" Death asked, walking over to him. "He has a fever and the medicine I gave him should heal him up but...he's in need of food...he can't possibly be your kid?"

Jorge watched as Death tended to the baby. Despite the stronger worry he felt especially when Death said the baby had a fever, Jorge felt a wave of relief once he saw the medicine and watched it be administered. Jorge himself felt utterly sick and terrible, but he didn't care. What was most important was the fact that the baby needed help.

"Fever?" Jorge asked quietly. He walked over to the table where the baby lay, limping along and holding onto the wall and chairs for support. He looked down.

"Coño..." Jorge whispered. "Muerte, you know I never had any sort of children in my life, let alone un amor to call my own... I found him in the outskirts of the town, abandoned. He was left right next to... The house of la bruja." He reached out his hand to stoke the baby's head. "I... I think maybe he is her son. He has the resemblance but I'm not sure... She could've abandoned him outside for the snakes before she killed herself."

Death remained calm until the mention of the possibility that this could be the witch's son. "La bruja..." Death whispered, shaking his head as he looked down at the child. The witch wasn't a very social person as it was, and whatever she did, always seemed to bring bad. No one liked her, everyone feared her. To think that she would have a child...and now this child was here. "(What if he grows up to inherit his mother's will?)" Death though, biting his bottom lip. The witch was...not normal, to say the least. If this child were to grow up and earn his mother's reputation, it could bring bad luck, bad things, maybe even a plague. He didn't think that keeping the child was a good idea. At all. If anything, they should leave the kid somewhere away from here. "(The town wouldn't be very merciful either.)" Death's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Jorge. He cleared his throat a bit. "J...Jorge, if this child truly belongs to the witch...after so much that has happened, I really don't think-" But before he could finish his sentence, the cry of a baby stopped him. He slowly turned, seeing his beloved wife walk in holding their son. "He misses his daddy." She said. She noticed Jorge, and then at the baby. "A child..." She quietly moved over, holding the baby in her arms. "He looks just around Grim's age...who's is it?" She asked. Death growled. "W...We suspect it's the witch's...Jorge found him..." "La bruja had a child?" She looked down at the kid, and then back up at Death, knowing the look on her face. She glared. "You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking." She hissed. Death jumped up a bit. "...this child could be a danger..." He admitted. "One's parents do not define the fate of a child." His wife insisted, her red eyes gleaming as she cooed at the small child. She held Grim close to the child, Grim curiously stretching his hand to reach at the baby. "If we died and Grim fell in the hands of people who didn't like us, you would think the same way." She added. Death paused. His wife...had a point. He breathed and sighed heavily, looking down at the baby and turning over to Jorge. "...this child...is a child after all...I know you have been a lonely man, but you have found him and...if you wish to raise him as your own...you have my blessing." Death said, much to his own dismay. Had his wife not been around to calm him, it would've been a different story. But...a child was a child. The least he could do was to give him a chance. Besides, he knew he would never hear the end of it had he suggested something else.

Jorge knew what Death was thinking just by his look. A part of him screamed no, but a part of him agreed. La bruja was finally dead. What if this child was to follow in her footsteps? And even if he didn't, the villagers would surely have no rest or peace of heart. But every time the man looked at the little baby boy on the table, he felt his heart skip a beat every time. But still. They had to do what was best for the village. He was about to agree with Death's upcoming decision, before Death's beautiful wife entered the room with their son. Jorge couldn't help but smile. He absolutely adored Death's wife. She was the beauty of the village; the 'jewel' of the village. And not only was she beautiful in appearance, but she was also beautiful in the heart. The son also inherited every single charm and beauty from her. Especially those rich velvet orbs. It was after her input when Jorge really changed his mind. She was right; the lives of a parent shouldn't determine the fate of a child. He was going to request Death to change his mind but he didn't need to. Death did it already. What he wasn't expecting was for Death to give a blessing.

"M-Mi?" Jorge asked, pointing to himself. He slowly looked to the baby, and reached out for it. He needed to look at him one more time to make a decision. So Jorge did. As soon as the baby entered his arms, he opened his eyes in the slightest to reveal beautiful light golden brown eyes. Jorge's gaze softened.

"He... He has her eyes..." He whispered. It didn't last for long, before almost right after the baby began to cry in the slightest. Jorge couldn't help but smile in pure happiness. The baby was going to be okay.

"Ahh, ahh. Shhhhhh.... It's okay sí? Your padre is here mijo. I'm your padre now... Miguel. That will be your name. I hope you like it." Jorge began to rock back and fourth to try to calm the baby down. He looked over to Death and his wife. "Is it a good name? It's not a terrible name sí?" Almost immediately as soon as he picked up the baby, Jorge's entire being brightened up as if someone opened the curtains in a dark room to a bright sunny day.

"Not a bad name at all." Death said. "A beautiful name for a beautiful child." Death's wife agreed, smiling as she walked closer to Jorge. "You'll be a wonderful father. I know it. Right, Death?" She asked. Death sighed, but then smiled happily. "Yeah. You're wonderful with children as you are...you'll be a natural." Death said, his eyes landing down on the small child again. "From today on the child is your son, and part of this town. No one can say otherwise..." Death's wife cooed at the child. "He's so beautiful! I bet him and Grim will be best friends when they grow up." She purred, looking down at her son. Grim looked up with big curious eyes that scanned the room. Death smiled, taking his son into his arms. Grim mumbled in baby speech, looking around. His hair as dark as ebony, his eyes as red as a rose. He poked Grim's nose, causing the child to giggle a bit. "Well." Death cleared his throat. "Let's be the best parents we can be...right, Jorge?" Death said as he held Grim. His wife had a point. The child was simply that currently; a child. Whether he would caue any danger was yet to even be considered. He had a life ahead of him to explore. Death's wife squealed at the news. "Oh, let me make him clothes from time to time! I'll making him the cutest of shirts I promise!" She cheered. Grim looked up from his father's arms, his eyes landing on Miguel, stretching his tiny hand to him until he managed to brush his fingertips against Miguel's head. That moment, without none of them knowing, a connection was made. A connection beyond their control, that would tie the two children with the red string of fate. Connecting the pariah and the prodigy in life and in death.

Edited July 5, 201510 yr by Stardustblade358

Jorge was very happy to hear that both Death and his wife loved the name. Jorge was never really good at names, but finally he picked a wonderful name for his son.

"Gracias..." Jorge said with a soft smile. He even teared up a bit. He was going to love and protect Miguel no matter what. For the first time he wasn't alone. He would take care of Miguel, and Miguel would take care of him when he's older. Jorge looked over to Grim and went closer.

Miguel meanwhile continue to squirm and cry, kicking and moving with all his might. Jorge had to hold him tighter momentarily.

"Aye aye....." Jorge said as he tried to calm down the baby. "He's going to be as stubborn as a mule. I know it- oh!" Miguel managed to grab Grim's wrist and as soon as he did, he yawned and closed his eyes to fall asleep. Jorge looked alarmed.

"Lo siento, Muerte... I'll try to pry him off..."

Death stared down somewhat amazed, yet one hundred percent amused at the same time. "Dios mio." Death's wife had to keep herself from laughing at the scene to avoid waking up the two of them. "This is so cute...!" She squealed. "Not even five minutes and they're best of friends." Death said with a smile, looking at Grim. Grim felt his wrist being held by Miguel. He looked up at Miguel curiously and huffed, moving his hand around as Miguel held it. He stared at his wrist almost horrified as if by magic Miguel had just grabbed him, but later calmed down, his eyes softening as he yawned, deicing that the warm of the hand actually felt pretty good. He closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep just like Miguel had done. Death gently moved his hand, trying to retrieve his son from Miguel. Grim seemed to open his eyes and frown at his father, slapping his hand with free hand. "H-Hey, what's with the betrayal?" Death asked in surprise. Grim kept his gaze before returning to sleep. "Hijo de la gran-" Death kept himself from finishing that sentence as his wife walked over and opened one of the windows. "It stopped raining." She said, glancing out to see a beautiful rainbow forming. "Well Jorge, we both have stubborn little babies to take care of." Death murmured, finally releasing Miguel's grip as he held Grim. Grim wasn't very happy, waving his hands around and kicking his feet. "C-Come on! You'll see him again!" Death assured as he avoided the hits. Grim let out a baby growl, Death smiling. "Well...parenthood's an adventure of its own, isn't it?" Death chuckled. Grim looked back at Jorge and at Miguel, blinking as he stared at them curiously once more. "I'm sure you two can handle being dads." Death's wife assured. "I hope so." Death said as he was smacked again by Grim. "Darn it." Grim laughed.

Jorge watched as the scene unfolded before him. He could tell Miguel was definitely going to be something when he grew up. Already Jorge was dreaming of the future- it was something he never did before. He dreamt of Miguel and Grim becoming the closest of brothers. He dreamt of Miguel's first steps. Miguel's first words. Miguel's first love. Just the thought of it brought sudden joy and excitement to the once lonely man who used to count the days until he died. Now he was going to count the days until Miguel grew.

"I..." Jorge couldn't help but sniffle. "I will handle everything, for my little nena lindo." Miguel was knocked out, right asleep.

-

The next day, Miguel was doing much better. After he was fed and given more medicine, he was making a great recovery. However because of the rumors that immediately spread about Jorge, the baby, and la bruja, the entire town basically knew already that the baby was most likely the son of the witch. Because of this the now once wonderful friendly lonely old farmer was considered the evil conspirator of la bruja and the father of 'el Diablo.' Already Jorge received death threats from some of the men in the village, and most of the women didn't bring their children to buy wooden toys from him. Jorge had called Death over as he feared of what to do. Currently he was sitting inside his house, clutching his cane tightly as he read the third and most recent death threat he received. Someone had threw it attached to a brick at the old man's home.

"Dios mio..." He breathed. "How could they treat me like this?"

Death walked across, wearing his usual white robes with the red scarf, a rosary hanging around his neck. His wife, Megara, walked with him, holding baby Grim in her arms. They reached the farm, and Megara ran up ahead. "Jorge are you alright?!" She asked, looking at him as she looked back at her husband with worry. "Esta tan blanco como un fantasma." She gasped. "I can see that from here." Death murmured, walking over. "They haven't hurt you, have they?" Death asked, looking over at the broken window. Megara held Grim and rubbed Jorge's back, Grim curiously cooing over at Jorge. "May I see the letter?" Death asked, taking it in his hands and reading it. It was explicit, to say the least, done specifically to shove fear down his throat. It had only been less than a day, less than twenty four hours, and panic was already growing. "Mierda." Death hissed, glaring down at the letter as he crumbled it in his hands. "We won't let them hurt you or the child." Megara said, suddenly glaring up. "I'm going to-!" "No, you will not do anything." Death insisted, slowly turning to look back around the woods, his eyes glaring at some figures before they ran off. Most likely children. "No...I won't let this happen. The witch might've brought fear but we lived with her understandably. To fear a child and to threaten it along with the one who saved its life? I won't allow it." Death barked, making a tight fist. He breathed to calm down. "...stay with him." Death began to walk away. "Where are you going?" Megara asked. "To fix this before it gets out of control." Death responded. Megara looked back at Jorge, smiling a bit. "Don't worry, I'm sure he has a plan. We won't allow anyone to harm you. Here. I made some clothes for Miguel." Megara said as she picked up some colorful clothing from the basket she brought.

 

Death walked down the town, the look on his face even warning children to not try to go for a hug like they usually did. He didn't have much power, he was only a man, but over his dead body would this town fall as low as for them to murder an innocent child for the sake of superposition. He walked into his home, and a few minutes later, came back out holding a rolled up a large piece of paper, a nail and a hammer. He walked down all the way to the front of the church, the center of the entire town. Already people following to see what he would do. He spun the hammer in his hand, suddenly nailing the paper right into the church's large wooden door. One slam, two, three, four, five. He slowly lowered the hammer down, the paper showing a signed declaration that Jorge and the child known as Miguel were under his personal protection. He slowly turned to the crowed forming around. "To think that this town has fallen so low. Especially you, men, who are to set examples to your sons, to threaten an innocent old man and his newborn child." Death started. "La bruja is dead. Gone. Bit the dust and went off, and you're telling me, that this child has any fault for being born into this world through her and abandoned to starve? Do you think that killing him and Jorge would be any more moral?!" His voice raising higher, and higher, booming. "For years we have lived with the witch and never have we changed. Suddenly a child appears and you all lose your senses?! The child has no fault in what his mother did. The same as for all of us who are born aren't born to bear our parents' sin!"

 

---

Basically what's happening right now in the middle of town

[omfg I freaking love Kevin Heart]

Jorge was very happy to see Death and his wife walk in. "I'm fine. They didn't hurt us." He said with a smile. Honestly now they were the only two people he could trust. They were his only friends left. The only good thing about this misfortune was that Jorge knew now how hideous the villagers could be. He knew not to trust anybody especially now that he had Miguel. Before he had nothing to loose. Now be had everything to loose. Everything was with Miguel. As soon as Grim came in Megara's arms, Miguel began to cry. Jorge handed the letter to Death quickly before going over to calm the baby down.

"Shhhhh hijo. It's going to be alright." He picked Miguel up and brought him over to Megara and the baby. Upon being closer to Grim Miguel quieted down.

"Wait muerte- por favor be careful. Let me-" he reached out to stop Death from leaving, but he already left. Jorge sighed softly and looked to Megara and the clothes. "I know..." He muttered softly. "I just fear Muerte, you or el niño will get hurt. I don't want you or your family hurt due to me or my son. You, your husband and your son don't deserve it. If anything I deserve it for being an old disabled man. I cannot protect like I used to long ago. I just hope I'm able to protect my son as much as I can..."

 

Meanwhile in the town, everyone was silent except for some whispers. Some people nodded their heads, others shook them. Some were angry, some happy and some didn't even care at all. A majority was angry, but didn't say anything. The word of Muerte was final. It was always like that.

"But the baby should die-" Came a small boy, before getting smacked upside his head by his mother. After years of scary stories about la bruja, the children didn't want another monster to worry about.

(The mother was like

"We will fight back if it has to be that way. We cannot allow innocent people be harmed when they have done nothing wrong." Megara insisted. She had always been a very stubborn woman...not one to let herself get beaten down as easily yet kind enough to make a child calm down. But it was that spunk that attracted Death to begin with. Grim noticed Miguel, and immediately stretched his arms, moving around wildly in Megara's grasp as he grabbed Miguel's hand, babbling baby words while he was at it. "Grim don't be so rude. Oh my I have a feeling that the moment this kid starts walking he won't be stopping any time soon." Megara said with a slight chuckle. Grim stubbornly held Miguel, murmuring in baby talk here and there.

 

Death glared across the crowd. "I understand your worries. Stories of what she has done to children, to men and women, what she has brought upon this town, even the plague could've most likely had been all of her fault. Yet would we be any better than her by killing a child who has yet to do anything in this world but breathe for us to judge." Death said, looking around as he stepped closer. "Everyone is innocent until proven guilty. The child has yet to speak, to take any steps. Even of he were to be her son, who says that we cannot bring him up for the good? To use whatever gift he was born with to help the people. It is up to us to determine what this boy will grow up to love and to hate. If we raise crows, they will peck out our eyes. If we raise dogs, they will protect us. Do you really want to start raising crows?" He stepped across the crowd, walking away. "If it makes you feel any better, consider the child to be on a trial. A trial of life where we will see how he grows, what he does, which path he takes. If it does prove to be too dangerous for our own good, then we will agree to get rid of him for the good of everyone. But until then do not harm Jorge or the child. You can think about it all you want...but in the end I won't be the one judging you if you were wrong all along." Death said as he pointed at the cross standing at the very top of the church. He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I cannot change your values...but I beg of you, give the child a chance, for right now it is only that; a child." Death asked, eyes pleading. He turned. "If the child ends up being as evil as you think, then burn me at the stake as punishment for letting him live." With that, he walked away calmly.

 

He walked all the way back to the farm, where he saw Grim struggling to get even closer to Miguel than he already was. He cleared his throat. "I've...made a statement to say the least. No one is to harm you or Miguel. If anything does happen...they will have to face against me personally." Death explained, scratching his cheek gently. "Man I hate screaming..."

Jorge couldn't help but smile brightly as he listened to Megara's words. No matter what happened, at least he knew he could count on his dearest friends. With a small chuckle and silly grin, he stomped his cane on the floor.

"And I will beat everyone with my cane for you and Muerte. I made it myself out of strong oak. It'll definitely do damage. It'll put people in their own canes!" He watched Miguel and Grim together. It made him even more happy to know that no matter what, at the end of the day Miguel was to have Grim. He could tell they would be the closest of friends- no- brothers. Such thoughts gave him confidence. Even if the town didn't like him or his son, they were still going to be okay.

Miguel meanwhile somewhat huffed and whined when Grim grabbed his hand. Instead he smacked it away and squirmed to lazily wrap his arms around Grim. He didn't care how hot Grim was or how sticky it felt, he just wanted to be closer. Jorge sighed at the baby.

"You're making your friend uncomfortable hijo. Let him go. Aye, you're right; they are going to be unstoppable." He looked to the door once Deafh came in. He knew by the look that it wasn't the best of events.

"Lo siento Muerte... I feel terrible for having you involved in this. You don't deserve it."

Grim let out a mumbling growl as he hugged Miguel back. Death shook his head and walked up, staring sternly. "Don't you feel bad for me, Jorge. I will not allow this town to go on an aimless inquisition just because of who the mother of this child is. If we don't stop the nonsense now, it will escalate. Then it will be the child next door, and the child after that, and the child that acts strangely after that. It would become an endless cycle, and I will stop it before it starts." Death insisted, smiling softly. "Besides, most of the town listened to reason. Some here and there are still stubborn, but once they see that Miguel is only that of what he is, an innocent child, I am sure that the town will warm up to him." Death assured, looking down as his son was being hugged by Miguel and in return, Grim hugged Miguel back. "What the heck happened to them did they glue themselves or what?" "No they just refuse to let go of each other." Megara said with a smile. Death chuckled. "These two have quite the bond." He added, before turning to Jorge. "You won't have to worry about the time. Focus on your work and on Miguel. Raise him and be the father he needs right now. Teach him that he sets his own destiny, regardless of who says what." Death said, rubbing Miguel's head gently, and then Grim's. Grim blinked a few times, holding back into Miguel as if he were the most important thing to him in the world.

It was years to where Miguel and Grim were both four years old. The two grew to be very close. Every waking moment they spent together. And it was very frequent when one of the two would demand to stay over the house of the other. Over these four years Miguel has been terrorizing his poor father. Miguel was a very good but bad boy. He was very feisty and would fuss if there was something he didn't like. As a result when he was a newborn Miguel would practically cry every waking moment unless he was sleeping with Grim or was consuming food. For the seventh time over the past four days, poor Jorge had to take Miguel over to Grim yet again. The boy always kept him on his feet. Currently the old man was tiredly carrying Miguel with him. As he hoped along with his cane.

"Papaaaaaaaa I want Greemmmmmmm." Little Miguel whined as he pulled his father along. He could never pronounce Grim's name right. "I want Greeeeeeem I want Greem!"

Jorge sighed tiredly as he knocked on Death's door. "Yes hijo... You're going to see Grim now dios mio por favor."

Death opened the door, smiling at the visitors. "Hey Miguel, Jorge. Come in." Death said, letting them inside. "Grim, Miguel is here!" The squeal of the other four year old could be heard across the house, running into the living room while wearing his long sleeved white pajamas. Much like Megara had inquired, once Grim began to walk, he didn't stop. He could run around the house and not get tired, and to top it off he was fast too. Megara and Death always had trouble catching him whenever he needed a bath, the young boy making a run for it each time. However he was more of a scary cat than anything else, getting easily scared with most circumstances, finding solace by hiding behind his parents or behind Miguel. "Miguel!" Grim squealed, running over and hugging Miguel, the two holding each other as if they hadn't seen each other in forever, when it was merely just a day. "Here, have a seat Jorge." Death said, sitting down with the older man. "Look at you, little Miguel has you right on your heels." Death chuckled, though he did worry a bit. Jorge was older, and the last thing he wanted was for his health to decline. "Miguel Miguel~" Grim sang, holding his hands as he jumped up and down excitedly. "I missed you~ Lets play!"

Miguel nodded excitingly as he threw his arms around Grim as well. Miguel as the child he was, was very clingy physically. He always wanted to be in physical contact with others much to the annoyance of Jorge. They slept together already (due to the fact that there was only one 'bedroom' and cot) but Miguel always had to have his arms wrapped around his Papa. It was worse in the warm muggy nights because Jorge had to endure sticky hands and sweat wrapped tightly around his chest. Miguel held Grim's hands excitedly as well and jumped along with Grim. "Let's go play in the mud!" He cheered. "Or jump on the rocks! Or dig in the ground!" As always, Miguel always suggested the dirtier messier ideas. As well as the ideas that would get them in trouble. "Or catch bugs in the tall grass by the river!" That was probably Miguel's most innocent idea ever.

Meanwhile Jorge sat down and looked at Death with very tired exhausted eyes. These past years have definitely warn Jorge out, although he enjoyed every second of it. Raising a child was hard. But the joy of it made all the work worthwhile. Still, not everything was perfect. "Mi amigo..." Jorge began, looking at his cane. "I fear I am growing ill. I am very old as you know. I will be turning 68 soon. I may look 45 from all the work I've done all these years, but my age is staring to catch up with me. I've tried my best to keep up with my energetic stubborn son but..." In his eyes were sadness. "If anything happens to me- I just wanted to ask... Will you be the Godfather- no, father of my son? I know it's such a huge thing to ask but por favor... I have no family except for you and your beautiful esposa. I cannot trust anyone in town either; they all shun me and my son. The children bully him. The adults insult us and try to threaten us. I cannot allow my son to be at the mercy of those people. Yes, you have prevented disaster for me and him. But they still utter curses and wish us gone. Even if you can't, at least visit him from time to time in his hut and check to make sure he is okay- please-" he suddenly broke down, placing his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from sobbing loudly right there. Tears already fell from his eyes and traced over the wrinkles in his old tired face before they dripped to the ground.

Grim thought about it, before smiling. "Bugs! I want to catch a butterfly!" Grim said, about to take off when Megara stopped him. "Now hold your horses, you are not going to get your pajamas dirty." Megara insisted, stripping Grim from the pajamas and dressing him up in a simple shirt and pair of pants. "Alright. Now you may go." She smiled. Grim grabbed Miguel's hand. "Lets go!" Grim squealed, running out of the house with Miguel. He stopped by the side of the house, where there was this small shed, and picked up two nets, handing one to Miguel before the two began to run off to the river. "Butterfly! Though they fly they aren't made out of butter!~" Grim sang as he walked with Miguel, holding the net over his shoulder as he swung it around from time to time. "One day, I'm going to make a net big enough to catch us a toro! Then we can keep it as a pet!"

 

Death's heart felt like being hammered down as he heard his request. Megara looked over at her husband, utter heartbreak in her eyes. Death gave a nod, turning to Jorge and getting a hand on his shoulder. "Jorge, I promise you on my life, if something were ever to happen to you, I will look after Miguel. He will live with us and we will treat him as one of our own...we already care of him so much. We promise you, we will see to him grow." Death promised. He sat up. "But until that time comes...you must enjoy your time with him." Megara walked over and hugged Jorge. "Oh Jorge...don't worry. If anything happens to you, Miguel won't be alone. This is his home too." Megara assured with a soft smile.

Miguel jumped around happily as he waited for Grim to change. Miguel was never dressed in pajamas unless right before bed and even then he would often wake up in just his underwear; Miguel hated wearing pajamas. As soon as Grim was ready he ran right outside and grabbed his net. Already he was thinking about what he wanted to catch. Spiders, beetles, ants, all kinds of stuff. Maybe he'll be lucky enough to find a scorpion or tarantula. As he marched on with Grim, he loved the idea of having a bull as a pet.

"Un toro?!" Miguel asked excitedly. "I'll help you get a net like that! We'll get the toro and name him... Him... Paco!"

 

Jorge continued to silently cry, although the tears of worry and sadness now morphed into tears of joy. He was so happy to have such a family as Death and Megara. Now if he were to die, he could die peacefully knowing that Miguel would be taken care of. Even then however, there was still sadness in Jorge's heart.

"It makes me so happy to have such friends that I could call mi familia... I was once a lone man but now I have all the people I will ever need. But I still have sadness in my heart. It makes me happy to know that mi hijo will be okay in the wake of my death however I know I do not have much time left. I still fear that I will be unable to see my son grow into a strong man... That I won't be able to see him reap his first crops. To see him find a lover. To see him create live and give me a newborn grandchild to hold in my old arms. I wish to see this happen to not only to my son but to your son as well... But I will die before that happens."

Grim gasped. "Paco! I love that name!" Grim squealed. In his mind, a net big enough would catch them a bull to keep as a pet and to ride around town. Everyone would be so impressed, maybe he would even be allowed to stay awake past bed time! They reached the river, the clear water sparkling with the sun's reflection, the tall grass surrounding the area and its marsh. Cattails standing out at the edges. Perfect breeding ground for all kind of creepy crawlies. No bulls though. The tide was low, and Grim didn't hesitate to step into the water, net in hand. "Miguel, what should we catch first? I think it'd be easier if we caught some frogs. Frogs are funny looking." Grim giggled, thinking of the frogs' big eyes and large bubble throats whenever they croaked. "Sapo~ Seňor sapito..." Grim cooed, walking around the water. He looked back at Miguel somewhat concerned. "You aren't going to catch one of those scary ones again, are you?" From afar, the local children glanced at them, murmuring here and there the never ending rumors about the witch's son.

 

Megara and Death had tears in their eyes, quickly wiping them away. They knew Jorge was right. He was older than they were, and due to years of hard work, his body was weaker at old age than most people would get. "We understand." Death murmured, using his sleeve to wipe away his tears. "But until your time comes...you must enjoy every waking moment. We will take care of him and be his new family were you to one day be gone. But you will always and forever be his papa. Don't ever forget that. Years will pass...but you will always be papa." Death said smiling softly. "Now...let us not be so negative right now. Let me get some water for us." Megara chimed as she walked away.

Miguel crossed his arms and poured. So much for trying to get a scorpion. But hey, there were other cool things to try and catch. Praying mantises, lizards, and other things. He heard stories of a frog in a far away island country that whistled. His father told him that those frogs couldn't leave their native land, so Miguel would be unable to get one of he ever traveled there. Maybe one day he could be able to keep one of those whistling frogs as a pet.

"Aww phooey." Miguel explained as he swung his net around. He heard the children, but ignored it. He never really understood what the children were talking about when they called him a brujo.

 

Meanwhile Jorge wiped away his tears. They were right; he had to enjoy what time he had left with Miguel. Hopefully it was ample time. He chuckled and looked down at his cane.

"Maybe..." He thought for a moment. "Maybe one day... In an afterlife we all could be together. And I could run again and not rely on this damn cane. Who knows; maybe I could outrun you in a race Muerte~" he said with a small chuckle, poking the younger man in the leg with it. "This cane has been with me for as long as I can remember. Since I was a young man. Maybe your age. I can't even possibly imagine walking without it other than when I limped to your house with Miguel when he was a little bébé."

Grim moved his hands through the muddy water. "Sowwy, Miguel. I just don't you getting hurt. What if you get stung?! Daddy has been teaching me some stuff and stinging can hurt really bad and fill you with poison and maybe inflate your arm!" Grim said, slowly escalating in worry as he held his net. Of course, it was just the young boy's mind exaggerating. He heard a croak. He paused, turning to see a frog sitting gently on a floating leaf. "Miguel," He whispered. "Careful..." Grim slowly raised his net, taking a few steps forward. He then jumped forward, swinging his net to catch the frog. He missed, the frog jumping off just in time as Grim ended up diving into the water with a splash. He surfaced, whining to Miguel about the fact that he missed. From afar, one of the kids walked up, holding a stick almost like a weapon. "Brujo!" He called, looking at Miguel curiously. "What are you going to do with those frogs? Are you going to make potions and spells with them?!" He teased. Of course, it was just a question out of the so many rumors that spread. 

 

Death chuckled. "Surely you would outrun me. I'd never been an athletic one as it is. Were you any younger you would be able to beat me in anything and everything, I'm sure of that." Death smiled. He was more of brain over brawn type of guy. He did what he could, but he was better off learning and teaching of his medicine and the faith than being able to run a mile without stopping. "I would also find it strange to see you without a cane. I don't know why. I guess I've just seen you for too long with it." "Well we'd both definitely be faster than Death. He's as slow as a turtle!" Megara teased, bringing over some coffee for the three. "Hey now, I'm not that slow." Death smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

Miguel crossed his arms and tapped his foot in the water. There goes Grim, getting all medical and worried on him.

"But Greeeeemmmmmm," he whined. "I'm not gonna die because of a little sting. I will fight back and defeat the poison!" He proclaimed loudly as he swung his net around. When Grim tried to catch the frog, Miguel was going to jump in too and probably collide with Grim if it wasn't for the newcomer who called out to him. Miguel turned to the boy and held his net down.

"My name isn't brujo..." Miguel muttered. He didn't even know what brujo meant. He thought it was a name. "And I'm catching frogs to make them my friends!"

 

Meanwhile Jorge laughed as Megara came back with the coffee. Oh it was so true the words that came out of her mouth. Death was slow. But his knowledge made up for it ten times more.

"Don't worry. I'm sure in Haven I will still have mr cane... But I will still beat you in a race!" He proclaimed as he took a sip of his coffee. "Gracias bonita. Your café con leche is the best. Even without the leche."

"Brujos don't make friends. They make potions with frog legs and frog eyes!" The kid insisted. Grim swam up to Miguel, staring at the kids curiously. "Frogs aren't good for making medicine! They're full of icky things inside!" Grim suddenly added, remembering the things that his father had told him. "Why are you friends with el brujo anyways? Don't you know that if you become his friend he'll eat you?" The kid asked. "Miguel wouldn't eat me! He doesn't eat that much anyways!" Grim growled, standing up on the water as he waved his net. "Go away! Unless you're helping us catch frogs, go away." Grim said as he stuck out his tongue. "Whatever, if you're friends with the brujo it means that you are evil too..." The kid insisted, backing away with his friends. "His name is not brujo!" Grim hissed, turning to Miguel and hugging his arm. "Don't listen to him. I don't know what brujo means but you aren't that." Grim insisted, a frog suddenly jumping right on his head, freaking him out as he screamed and fell back into the water.

 

"Well I better get ready for that race then. I need to get training." Death said as he took a sip of his own coffee. Of course, he said that, but he would most likely make excuses to avoid the physical work and continue with his usual medicine making and keeping the faith high in the town. "You flatter me too much, Jorge." Megara said with a smile, taking a seat as she drank her own coffee. Death took note of something. "Grim didn't take his shoes." Death added. "He refuses to wear any." Megara hummed. "Well as long as he doesn't step on something sharp I'm fine. I just wish that kid could be easier to catch when it was time for a bath." Death groaned, smiling a bit. "He says that he will be faster than Miguel. He's always the happiest when with Miguel."

Miguel took the kid's words to heart. At first he didn't think much of it, until the kid claimed that Miguel would eat Grim. What a horrible thing to say! Miguel would never eat his best friend! If Miguel ate Grim than Grim would die! Honesty Miguel didn't understand the concept of dying. All he knew is that when someone died you can't see them anymore. He wanted to see Grim every day forever.

"I wouldn't eat him..." Miguel muttered, looking down into the water. "And... And Greem isn't evil either! He's really nice and everyone loves him! Especially me, my padre, Meeegarah and Muerte!" Suddenly Grim had screamed and Miguel turned to see a frog jump out. It didn't really bother him, as he was more concerned about Grim. Miguel bent down to help him up.

"Why are they so mean to me...?" He asked, not realizing he had tears in his eyes and snot dripping from his nose.

 

Meanwhile Jorge snorted at the idea of Death training. "Muerte?" He asked. "Training? Dios mio, when that happens our ancestors will rise from the Earth!" He loved to tease the younger man. As an old man, Jorge loved to abuse the universal elderly power to be able to say whatever the hell he wanted to. One time he cursed a teenager out for being disrespectful to his grandmother. He also beaten thieves before with his cane. When Megara mentioned Grim however, his face softened.

"Aye..." He said with a sigh. "I wish mi hijo would stay in his clothes.... The only thing he's ever okay wearing is his underwear. Other than that he tries to run around half naked. I have to fight with him to put clothes on. But it's the same with him. He is happy when he is with Grim. I have a feeling... They're going to grow up as hermanos." From speaking those words his lips curved into a small smile.

Grim stood up, soaked from head to toe, his hair damping over his eyes. He moved his hair out of his way and looked up at Miguel crying. "Miguel." Grim pouted. If he was crying, something hurt, inside or out. He walked over to him and kissed his cheek, just like his own mom would do whenever he was crying. "Don't cry, Miguel. Ignore those meanies! They're just jealous cause you're able to catch awesome insects while they can't catch anything for squat!" Grim insisted, suddenly hugging Miguel and shaking him around. "No crying no crying no crying!" Grim insisted, then looking at Miguel seriously as he offered his pinky. "From today on, if anyone is ever mean to you, I'm going to make them say sorry! No matter who it is! I'll smack them with my net!" Grim assured, wrapping his pinky round Miguel's. "Amistad fuerte, llega más allá de la muerte^*." Grim recited as he smiled at Miguel. "So no more crying, si? Come on...I'll even help you catch that scorpion you wanted to catch." Grim added, wanting to cheer his best friend up.

 

Megara and Death smiled ever so happily when they heard Jorge mention that they would grow up as brothers, because they felt the same exact way. "Si! They'll end up being so close. I can see them both attending at each other's weddings!" Megara squealed. "Now darling you're thinking way ahead they're only four." Death reminded her, only to then look down at his coffee with a worried expression. "I just hope...that by then they both agree on wearing more clothes on than less..."

 

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^*Strong friendship will last beyond death