Chapter Text
TW panic attack, flashback, violence & references to La Violencia & Colombian conflict, intrusive thoughts
Bruno just had a feeling when he woke up this morning that it was going to be a bad day. That feeling wasn’t related to his gift or anything but more so to the fact that as soon as he woke up, he fell out of his hammock and on to the floor. To make matters worse, he had somehow tipped over his favourite (and only) red armchair which landed back on top of him with an oomph! Luckily, his rats had the good sense to abandon ship as he was falling. Frustration and exhaustion swirled through him. Of course! Of course this would happen!
A familiar voice hissed in his mind you made a mistake. You should have stayed. You coward. A familiar mixture of guilt and self hatred swirled in his chest. Picking himself up with a huff, he heard Casita give a comforting rumble and the persistent frustration of being a maldición (he could still hear that particularly nickname spatted at him) and the ache in his chest lessened. He wasn’t alone. Not really. Casita was always there and so was Dolores. Now Mirabel.
Mirabel, Mirabel, Mirabel. His stubborn, reckless and passionate sobrina. A pang of regret and sadness swirled within him as he thought of the implications of an older hardened and traumatized Mirabel being thrown back into the past. His body shivered at the sensation of grief, sorrow and horror that had clung to his sobrina when he had grab ahold of her shoulder last night. When he had slipped through the painting last night to grab some food from the kitchen while everybody was distracted by Antonio’s celebration, his magic vibrated with urgency as if he had drank six cups of tinto. As soon as he stepped out into the open hallway, his magic came alight. Something was wrong.
Normally, he could feel an involuntary vision coming like a person seeing something out of the corner of their eye. His sense of awareness not just in the physical environment would go on hyperalert but a sixth sense that was able to see through the river of time and space, would tingle. It was like feeling a sneeze coming on. It hurt more to stop it but he was still caught in surprise as all the information related to the future overwhelmed his senses. Visions struck him at any time with no care of what he had been doing which led to broken plates and cups and suffocating dreams that he weren’t sure was a vision or some twisted work of his imagination. Sometimes he thought in the second between his present and his glimpse of the future, he could see the strings of fates, the doors of destiny and hear the ch ch ch of the sands of time. He tended not to linger in those moments (which felt similar to an eternity), lest his mind crack like an egg and he became like the cursed Cassandra in Greek myths and started raving about the future. No. This was different . It was as if his senses were telling him that something had shifted in time. Something or someone had shifted a stone in the river of time or a butterfly had flapped its wings and sooner or later, they were going to feel the resulting hurricane.
Before he could speculate further, the fizzzz . . . hizzzzzz . . . booom startled him as he jumped in alarm at the sounds of fireworks which had begun exploding after a slight lull. The fireworks illuminated the courtyard and he saw a spot of white and teal in the corner. Was that . . . he squinted his eyes . . . Mirabel?!?!?! Alarm had rang through him at her hunched and trembling body as Casita urged him towards her. He had a brief moment of hesitation before he noticed that no one was around and his anonymity didn’t matter in the face of a family member needing him. Stairs appeared from the floor toward his position and he raced towards what seemed like his sobrina in the midst of a panic attack. A pang of guilt and fear speared through him as the image was reminiscent of Pepa who had devolved into panic attacks throughout her life when she had tried to stuff her emotions into one of her mental boxes but instead her mental box overflowed. There had been so much fear and panic that one time, her powers manifested into a blizzard. The resulting alarm and fear from the townspeople and the urgent reprimand in their mamá’s voice still left a bitter taste on his tongue years later.
He wasn’t sure if she liked being touched when she was in such a panic so he chose to softly and urgently call her name multiple times. But her glassy eyes didn’t seem to see him nor did she seem to hear him. He had to do something or she was going to pass out. His hand landed on her shoulder and he felt a jolt of power. For a second, he saw the Mirabel from his dreams as a dying eighteen year old but before the horror could overtake him, he caught a glimpse of what Mirabel was seeing and feeling. He was choking on overwhelming relief turned to horror. Denial and a ferocious need to have an older Diego alive and well washed over him ( these weren’t his feelings?!?) . He heard the sound of screaming townspeople and could feel Diego’s blood on his skin. He reeled back as if burned and if it weren’t for the alert and scared brown eyes of his sobrina, he would have emptied his stomach into the nearest potted plant. What the hell was that? His magic screamed at him, that his sobrina was thee anomaly. The variant. The deviation in time.
His brain connected the dots quickly from his nightmare last night and what his magic was screaming at him. Thankfully, Dolores hadn’t confronted either him or Mirabel. Mirabel who had looked at him with familiar eyes as if she knew him. She hadn’t been surprised to see her long lost and outcast Tío and even though he didn’t know this version of his sobrina, the open love, relief and acknowledgement in her eyes of him watered the lonely and bitter parts of his heart. A part of him was envious of the clear devotion that this version of his sobrina had for a future version of him. Was it strange to be jealous of yourself? Should he branch out into sci-fi dramas as well?
Shaking his head, he focused back on his morning routine. He unfortunately was unable to have desayuno with his familia as they ate outside of Casita. A flicker of disgruntlement burned in his stomach but there was also hope as well. His dreary and pitiful routine was changing and maybe, he would be able to face his familia again. Luckily, he was able to catch the announcements and similarly, almost spat out his jugo de naraja when he heard his mamá acknowledge and congratulate Mirabel. How fucked up was it, that all he could hear was the stunned silence of his familia as they also reacted in surprise. It really shouldn’t be so surprising to hear an abuela praise one of her nietos. But his mamá wasn’t just an abuela. She was also the town’s matriarch and keeper of their miracle. The seeds of resentment toward his mamá that lingered in the darker parts of his mind, reared its ugly head. He, of course, loved his mamá and was grateful for all the sacrifices she had made for him and his siblings so that they were here today but that didn’t excuse the hurt she caused. Another part of his mind (the arteest and act-tor side of his mind) was taking notes on how to use the Madrigal familia drama in his next episode of Café Aroma de Mujer. There was supposed to be a few tense meals where certain characters were privy to information that the other characters were trying to hide. Gabriela and Alberto were really in it now. Especially since Alberto’s parents were questioning if Alberto had a paramour in front of Gabriela.
After shoving the rest of his huevos pericos into his mouth and saving some arepas and buñuelos for later while his rats ate the rest of his scraps, he silently asked Casita to lead him to the biblioteca. Over the years, his saving grace and the reason he hadn’t been driven completely mad living like a cockroach was that Casita had plenty of books and materials to distract his mind. Casita was pretty closed lipped about its secrets but he knew to an extent that Casita was adaptable and had secret rooms. Which made it all the more bizarre that Casita hadn’t given Mirabel her own room. He had asked once why Mirabel didn’t have her own room (even a separate non magical room!!!) but Casita had whimpered regretfully and mournfully in its own language that it couldn’t. No matter how badly Casita wanted to. It had something to do with the miracle which was a separate entity from Casita though they were connected and was housed in his mamá’s and his late papí’s wedding candle.
He went through his usual routine during the hall of fortune, hopped through the pit of despair and instead of going through the picture frame, saw the glowing frame of a door that hadn’t existed previously. An ornate wooden door carved with imagery of books, rays of light and pithy sayings like saber es poder, leer y crecer, etc. Turning the golden doorknob, he opened the door to a sprawling room filled from floor to ceiling with books, stairs that led to a second floor and he almost felt transported to another world. Natural light brightened the room, as cool air hit his face and the tightness in his chest loosened at the room that had become his safe haven and escape from isolation, boredom and solitude. Scanning the stacks, he passed the fiction and nonfiction sections and went towards the more theoretical texts. He ignored the section that hummed with magic and he knew better than to enter the restricted section. Not after almost getting smacked by multiple books and a strict warning from Casita that those books were off limits to him. Apparently, only when there was a need for that specific knowledge was Bruno able to read those texts.
It took him a while but he grabbed a well worn copy on the rules of time and space, a history book of Colombia and his own notes on his powers. After spending a few hours reading and combing through his notes, he sighed in frustration. He knew based off his instincts that Mirabel was actually chronologically older than her physical appearance but something was off. The balance between time, space and magic was off kilter. As if someone had panicked, and tried to right a wrong except they had no idea what they were doing. Trying to decipher his vision was like trying to finish a puzzle. He had some pieces in regards to his father’s death and what seemed like Mirabel’s but he didn’t know why his old vision remained. Neither did he understand why Casita looked different. Glancing down at his watch (a leather and silver number that was his papí’s), he noticed that a few hours had passed. His bones creaked as he stood up and decided to head to his vision cave to try to look again through that vision.
Imagine his surprise when he came to his room to find Mirabel tackling a panicked Dolores through his vision cave. As he watched the ceiling collapse on his vision cave, a mixture of bitterness, anger and sorrow rumbled through him. It hadn’t always been this bad but somehow his gift ( curse his mind hissed) had become the very thing he hated about himself. He still remembered the spots of lights in a sea of darkness where he had good visions and memories. Trying to see the answers to a test that he and his siblings hadn’t studied for. The first time he got a vision of a new child to be born in Encanto. The relief and envy he felt when he saw that Pepa and Julieta would find good men. His first vision of his sobrinos had made him cry. But the good always seemed to be so hard to find when all he could remember was the bad.
The whole conversation with Dolores and then a thankfully conscious Mirabel was equal parts enlightening and equal parts heart wrenching. At the sight of an unconscious and injured Mirabel, he had been in a panic. This was a 1000x worse than when he had been in charge of babysitting his sobrinas. Way worse than the time, Isabela had scraped her knee and started bawling or when Mirabel had pushed Camilo for stealing her favorite plushie and the two had ended up with cuts and bruises after brawling. He was ready to carry Mirabel all the way to Julieta, secrecy and his fears be damned. Thankfully, Dolores had been the level headed one and had been able to give first aid and lead the group. He was sure if it was him and Mirabel, they would have both panicked and had been a disaster ( You’re supposed to be the adult. You’re a failure as an uncle). After the vision was explained and he had reluctantly promised to come out of hiding, he went back to his room to shower and prepare for Isabela’s engagement dinner. Though no amount of preparation could have prepared him for such an eventful dinner.
Even though he technically wasn’t in the actual dining room, Bruno dressed in his cleanest button up shirt and pants with the least amount of holes with his usual ruana on. Just because his familia (besides Dolores and Mirabel) didn’t know that he was there for cena didn’t mean that he wouldn’t dress his best. Besides, he could just smell the drama and telenovela disaster just waiting to happen. Alejandro squeaked nearby his open notepad which he scribbled plot ideas. Thankfully, Casita had been kind enough to sneak him a hot bowl of ajiaco with a nice side of rice. He even had some extra corn and chicken to feed his rats. He also gave a generous pour of wine into his mug as he knew he was going to need the liquid courage for later.
Dinner was a disaster to say the least.
The tío, hermano and hijo in him silently lamented at seeing his familia stressed and on the edge of completely freaking out. The part of him that coped by turning his life experiences and pain into art was delighted at how much inspiration and fodder he got and would be able to incorporate into his shows. Already, he could tell that his hermanas were on thin ice with their mamá in changing the seating arrangement. He didn’t know what changed but he could tell that Julieta, Pepa and Isabela knew something about what was going on as their eyes flickered over to Mirabel. If Bruno hadn’t seen the manic look in Mirabel’s eyes earlier or the undeniable fact that she was barely holding herself together, he may have bought the bored look in her eye.
Then, the Guzmáns all had a nervous and apprehensive energy surrounding them. His eyes darted around the whole table as he could basically cut the tension with a knife. It was something he whispered to Alejandro who squeaked in agreement. Camilo sported a suspicious look as they eyed Isabela, Dolores and Mariano warily. He had given a snort of laughter that he quickly muffled as Camilo came up with something that was a possibility between the three. A part of him sighed bittersweetly at the vision he had given Dolores. He had hoped that his sobrinas would get visions that were more optimistic than what he usually got while Isabela more so had a mixed bag.
He felt the strangest feeling of deja vu as he heard the words “fix your face” come from his cuñado. He then flinched at Luisa’s outburst while his rats squeaked in alarm. His eyes darted back and forth as he shoveled the warm ajiaco in his mouth but involuntarily huffed as Luisa blamed the rats. From there, it was like watching a train wreck. He almost spit out his soup at the sight of his broken vision somehow ending up on the dining table. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of Antonio’s jaguar and Antonio chasing the coatis, the fire or the look on his mamá’s face as they all got soaked in Pepa’s rain. He decided muffled hysterical laughter after the townspeople took in the sight of the melodramatic and memorable Madrigals.
When Luisa ripped open the wall while he was mid drinking his mug of wine, he did the only thing he could think of and waved at the rest of his estranged familia. He was really regretting haven gotten out of his hammock today.
***
At the sight of Bruno, Luisa’s battle ready stance slackened in shock and Bruno felt the familiar pricks of anxiety at having so many eyes on him.
Bruno just stared at his trillizas who both stared at him in muffled shock. Their eyes wide and mouth parted open as if they couldn’t believe he was there. His sobrinos and cuñados were the same. Before he could follow his instincts of fleeing, a voice cut through his thoughts.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m sure you can parkour through the walls but Tía Pepa would just chase after you and Mamá has a killer aim with her chanclas,” a wry and amused voice stated.
The silence was shattered with that remark as all eyes snapped down to Mirabel who shrunk back at the intense stares thrown her way. Her face went through a series of emotions too quick to decipher before she settled on a humorless smile. Exhaustion lined her face and for a moment, her eyes seemed too old for such a young body.
Pepa was the first one to break the stalemate as her voice turned incredulous as she asked, “Mira, when you meant your tío was living in the walls, you meant he was literally in the walls.”
At Mirabel’s nod, the storm cloud that hovered around Pepa’s head darkened to storming as she stomped toward him. A murderous expression that was enhanced by the booming thunder that matched the march of her footfalls. Luisa quickly scrambled out of her tía’s way. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Dolores cover her ears miserably and her eyes were horrified.
Oh Dios! Pepa was really going to murder him. Mierda. Mierda. Mierda. He just knew that he would meet his end at the end of his trilliza’s hand. He hoped Julieta would at least say some kind words at his funeral. “Here lies Bruno. He died because he was an idiot and incurred the wrath of his trilliza mayor Pepa.”
Pepa lifted her arms up and he braced himself to feel the semi familiar whack of her fist but instead he felt arms wrap underneath his armpits and lift him up in a familiar crushing hug. Tears wetted the back of his ruana and the air escaped from his lungs as long arms held him in a crushing grip. Before he could say or do anything, another pair of arms wrapped around Pepa and him and squeezed tightly as he caught a flash of teal and the smell of flour. Slotted in between his two trillizas he felt whole again. Joy, regret and relief churned in his stomach as tears fell from his eyes and he took a sharp breath in.
The three of them just embraced one another as they savored being together once again. After ten long years, they were whole again. He heard the soft angry murmurs of “you fucking idiot. Bruno . . . you idiotic, stupid, reckless, . . .” as Pepita continued on her slew of curses, it felt like music to his ears as her fists bunched around the back of his ruana. It reminded him of the time when he had almost broken his neck, trying to get Pepa’s kite out of a tree and instead broke his arm and leg. Julieta had quickly ran out of the kitchen with jugo de tamarindo that she had made and poured it down his throat. Pepa had cursed him out then and there in fear. Currently, Julieta on the other hand was silent, her body wracked with relieved tears at seeing her trilliza again. It was one thing to hear about her hermano from her hija from the future but another to lay eyes on her hermano.
The moment was broken by the surprised gasp of Isabela and Mariano who had paused awkwardly at the doorway of the dining room.
Scratching the back of his head in awkwardness, Mariano pointed towards the exit and announced, “I’m just going to go. . . it seems like you guys have much to discuss. Gracias Isabela for being so understanding.” Isabela gaze had been fixated on a bottle of wine on the dining table but snapped back at Mariano with a nod of understanding and a small but sincere smile.
Addressing the group as a whole, “Gracias for your guys’s hospitality. I’ll let my familia know that you guys have some . . . family business to take care of and we’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Before he left, Mariano walked to Dolores and exchanged a few words with her. All he and his trillizas can parse out was “rain check . . . tomorrow. . . it’s a date!” before a bashful Mariano left a blushing Dolores. A grin wormed his way towards his face as he saw Isabela discreetly sidle up to Dolores and gave her a small high five. Both girls sporting genuine and relieved grins.
“ ¡Dios mío! What is going on???” Camilo said in a bewildered tone
“Mirabel is from three years in the future and according to Javier, she died and was sent back into her 15 year old body. The magic is in danger because Bruno had a prophecy 10 years ago about Mira either saving or destroying our Encanto. Bruno never left and has been living in the walls. We need to figure out a way to save the miracle in order to avert the horrible future Mirabel lived and Casita dying. Also, Abuela needs therapy!” Antonio blurted out.
For a moment, everyone just stared at Antonio with dumbfounded expressions. At everyone stares, Antonio shirked back and hid behind Javier. Camilo, Luisa and Félix wondered if they heard Antonio wrong and were going to ask if this was a joke. But as the three took in the grim faces of the rest of the family members, reality sunk in. Before the fear, confusion and horror could set in, Dolores broke the ice.
Dolores sighed in relief and then turned to Mirabel with a satisfied look. “Mira, it wasn’t me this time so . . . no spoilers!”
Her satisfaction quickly turns to ice cold fear as she doesn’t hear a response from Mirabel. Glancing over she see’s Mirabel’s slumped body and her heart starts beating out of her chest. Did she pass out? All the blood drains out of her face as she thinks is she dead?
Before she can rush over, her tía had already rushed over and placed a gently, glowing hand on Mirabel’s forehead before giving a sigh of relief. Dolores filters out everyone else’s heartbeats and breaths before finding Mirabel’s. Weak but constant.
“She’s just asleep. She’s utterly exhausted from today. Isa, can you and Agustín take her to your room to rest. Do you mind keeping an eye on her? If anything changes, let me know right away.” Julieta ordered.
“As for the rest of us, is there a place we can talk in private? Camilo, Luisa y Félix, I know you’re confused but we can explain.”
“Use my room.” Antonio offered.
At everyone’s blank looks, he explained, “It’s spacious and Abuela wouldn’t think that to look there.”
With a firm nod, everyone exchanged understanding looks and started cleaning up the dining room. Agustín picked up Mirabel gently, careful not to disturb her sleep and placed her on Isabela’s bed before placing a kiss on both Isabela and Mirabel. With a proud look towards Isabela and a reassuring glance, Agustín heads toward Antonio’s room.
As they all gathered in Antonio’s room, Bruno wondered if all of them together would be enough to avert the coming apocalyptic future. Glancing at everyone’s resolute, compassionate and receptive expressions, hope lit up in his chest like a burning candle. Together, the Amazing Madrigals could do anything. Even, change the future.