Chapter 1

Enrique Lopez walked slowly down the empty street, looking up at the night sky. Nothing could be heard, other than the slight sound of his own footsteps. He paused a moment, soaking the peacefulness of the night.

Then he sighed. He'd have to head home sooner or later. He'd have to face the wrath of his wife, Sofia, sooner or later. He continued walking. It wasn't as if he had meant to call her an cabra vieja. He wasn't even talking about her. But how could he explain that without telling her he was really talking about his mother-in-law?

Enrique kicked a pebble, and watched it disappear into the shadows. He sighed and turned to head home. He might as well get it over with.

He froze when he heard a faint groan from somewhere in the darkness. At first he shrugged it off. It's probably just some bum who's had too much to drink, he thought. But something gnawed at him. Maybe he should check, just in case. He turned and peered into the darkness. There was no sound now. Maybe he just imagined it.

He hears a faint pained whimper, and a slight scuff. Enrique tentatively steps forward.

"¿Hola?" he asked, quietly. There was no response. "Is anyone there?" He stepped forward. The shadows made it difficult to see. He thought he could make out a shilohette on the ground. He inspected it closer.

It was a young man, limp and lifeless. He wore a dusty mariachi suit. He was only just breathing. Enrique quickly crouched and checked him. His face was ashen and pale, and a slight trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and down his face.

Enrique felt panic well up in his heart. This young man was dying. He had to do something.

He gently rolled the young man onto his back, and lifted him, finding him surprisingly light.

Slight cries of pain and a faint moan came from the man. "...'nesto..." he moaned. Enrique started running. The nearest hospital was only a few blocks away. If he hurried, he might be able to make it in time. As he ran, he shushed the young man's cries. "Don't worry, amigo. You'll be okay. You will."

"...no identification, or belongings, aside from a letter in his pocket that doesn't say much, aside from giving him the name Héctor."

"Poor Chamaco. He can't be more than twenty years old. What a horrible thing to happen to him."

Héctor. He remembered that name. It was his name. It was what he was known as. He opened his eyes, blinking from the sudden light. He felt a dull ache in his entire body. Particularly his stomach. He groaned. He heard the voices around him quiet.

"H-he's awake." A voice whispered. He heard clicking of footsteps, and a hazy figure came into view. "¿Sénior?" a gentle voice asked.

Héctor blinked again, his eyes focusing on the kind face above him. It was an older lady. She had graying hair, and warm brown eyes.

Héctor simply looks at her a moment, bewildered. She smiles slightly. "Sénior, do you remember what happened?"

Héctor hardly heard the words. He was starting into her eyes. "Y-your eyes are beautiful." He said softly. The woman glanced at someone out of sight, worry etched into her face. She looked at him again.

"Sénior, What do you remember?" Héctor frowned. He must have upset her.

"I-I... my name is Héctor. I..." his face lit up in realization, and panic. "I need to go home! I promised! Por favor, I want to go home."

"Do you remember where that is, Sénior Héctor?"

Héctor paused. "I... I don't know. But I need to go. I promised."

"He seems to be having an extreme case of amnesia." A difrent voice said.

"Where am I?" Héctor asked.

"In the Mexico City hospital." The kind lady said softly. "You're safe here."

Héctor stares at her. "Mexico City?" He asked.

"Sì, Sénior. Do you remember how you got here?"

Héctor looked at her. He searched his mind, in vain. Finally, he shook his head.

"Nurse Garcia, allow me to speak to the patient." A difrent voice said. A man came into view. "Sénior, are you certain you remember nothing?"

Héctor nodded.

"You were found in the street, no identification, no belongings. You had large amounts of lead in your blood. It has caused some damage to your brain tissue, and your nervous system. You were unconscious for days. The memories may return in time, but I fear the worst. You had nothing to give us any clues to who you are, other than a letter in your pocket. It was short, and gave little information. I am afraid, Sénior, we don't know how this happened, or why."

Héctor absorbed his words quickly. "I need to get home." He said.

"Do you remember why?" The man asked.

Héctor didn't reply. His head was reeling and he started to panic. He couldn't remember. He didn't know. He couldn't... he... "I promised." He said, quietly. "I promised I'd come home."

Hope you enjoyed this! It might be a while before I post the next chapter. Life is hectic right now. It should also be a lot longer than this one.

Any idea's for sub-plots would be apreaciated. Please Review!