Can the rain of an autumn evening capture the ache of a breaking heart? Sartana didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure she could ever find out. After all, Jorge refused to listen her pleas. He didn't bother to acknowledge Machete as his, even when the similarities were obvious to the naked eye.
But it didn’t matter. At this moment, all she cared about was the little bundle in her arms. Her first born. Her son, who couldn’t stop crying. Her soul ached with every one of his tears. If only she had still a chest to feed him with… but she didn’t have anything. After her banishment, all she had were just pure white bones, luggage enough to fill her hat and a baby bottle that she managed to steal in a nearby chemist shop. For a first crime flying solo, she was pretty proud of herself - but Machete was her top priority now. He wouldn't stop fussing and crying...
“Shhh, shh… C’mon, Machete… no llores, mi vida… Here’s your bottle.”
As her son sucked greedily on the teat, Sartana took a moment to admire her child. Most babies come to the world with rosy flesh and only four limbs, but her child was… special. And how wouldn’t he be? He was born being a skeleton. A three-armed skeleton, no less! With such qualities, no one could criticise her for giving birth alone, in her bed. What doctor in his right mind would have helped a bony ex-princess?
It was exactly what she deserved. Falling in love with a human, keeping the result of her sins, hurting her sister and everyone else in the Land of the Remembered with her magic.... All those terrible crimes. Little mattered that the last of her charges was accidental - she had a lot to atone for.
Machete let go of the teat and snuggled up to his mother, who smiled weakly. Once she took and left the baby bottle on the table; Sartana turned her attention to her baby and caressed his face. In moments like this, she didn’t regret giving up everything to save him.
Given he had no skin or visible inner organs that held all the air in, Machete didn’t need to burp after meals. He was pretty awake, though - tired from crying, but his eyes were still wide open.
“Vamos, mi amor. It’s nap time.” Sartana carried him to the basket she used as crib, but Machete wouldn’t let go. A soft sigh left her lips. She returned to her bed with her child still in her arms, then reached to turn on the radio.
“I do know lullabies, but I’m not sure if I can sing again, mi niño. However… I know someone who sings like angels. His voice is the best of all.” She switched between channels, until the tune of De La Cruz’s “Remember Me” filled the room.
“Now, that’s better, so much better…” Sartana smiled and tucked in Machete under her sheets and one blanket. Right next, she climbed into the bed and pulled him into her arms. The banished goddess hummed some of the lyrics, as she let sleep take over them.
“Know that I’m with you,
the only way I can be.
Until you are in my arms again,