Héctor's power is definitely not supposed to work like that. There's a reason his fingers went a bit unsteady there, channeling of his energy to something besides himself. But Peter's blight isn't rooted in keeping him alive (that's a different power, to his knowledge, and it shouldn't get in the way).

He doesn't wince so much as his smile goes tight and his breath catches a little uneven. By now, he's kind of used to the blunt nature that is Peter and just blurting things out. He's just not sure he's ever going to be used to the ache of this.

"Coco," He answers just as quietly. "I love Imelda... but it always comes back to Coco. She's everything to me. Mi niñita." He loved Imelda like nothing else in the world, but she still couldn't compare to their daughter. "She's what's really kept me going all these years. I don't think I'd be here if it weren't for her." His eyes close, thinking of her. "She's a half mage on Imelda's side. With her magicless Papá. I'm sure despite me she's already far ahead anything I could dream. But I still see her as this little girl, little bows in her trenzas. I still imagine showing things off to her like some novel trick, as if no time has passed. And I can remember her laugh..."

He draws a breath and exhales heavy, returning his attention to Peter, eyes just a little glassy, smile tight with pain.

"You don't have to do anything so... much. It's just a suggestion that's helped me. Do you want to take a shot at the spell?"