Bruno is already up and dressed by the time Mirabel wakes up the next morning, back in his usual green ruana, a mug in one hand, watching Señora Garcia cook from the kitchen table. Dolores sits beside him.
"Morning," Mirabel says. She could sit at the table, but while it will technically seat four people, it's already looking crowded.
"Buenos dias," Bruno greets her with a shy smile. Dolores nods to her prima, but like her mamá, she is not a morning person.
Señora Garcia finishes cooking, and everyone finds a seat at the table. Dolores eats automatically, not really paying attention to her plate. Bruno only picks at his until he catches Mirabel looking. He takes a bite of his breakfast, chewing slowly and methodically, before swallowing.
"It's very good," he says to their host.
"Good," Dolores agrees, not yet entirely awake.
Bruno manages to carefully eat about a fourth of his arepa in the time it takes Mirabel and her cousin to finish their breakfast. He waves them off when he realizes they're waiting for him, telling them he'll be along shortly.
It doesn't take long for him to catch up, and Mirabel suspects he didn't finish his meal, but doesn't say anything.
Or at least, she doesn't plan on it. She doesn't really get the chance anyway, because her uncle is nearly knocked down by a blur almost as big as he is as he approaches Mirabel and her prima.
That blur turns out to be Isabella, throwing herself at her uncle and flinging her arms around him, pulling him into a hug that leaves him momentarily wide-eyed and frozen in place.
He recovers fairly quickly and brings his arms up to awkwardly return his niece's embrace. "Isa?"
"I missed you," she sobs into his shoulder. Mirabel resists the urge to roll her eyes. It's habit, she knows, developed over a lifetime of not getting along with her 'perfect' sister, and even though so much has changed in the last few days, sometimes old habits sneak up on her.
Bruno pats her shoulder. "Ay, niña, esta bien," he mutters. "It's okay."
They stay like that for a moment, and Mirabel waits, if a little impatiently. Mirabel can't imagine what it must be like for her older sisters and cousin, who were old enough when Bruno left to remember him. Isabella in particular, she supposes, must have been devastated-she had had only good things to say about her uncle when she finally gave in and broke the rule we don't talk about Bruno.
Isabella finally pulls back, wiping her eyes, sniffing a little. Bruno's eyes are more than a little watery. "Okay now?" he asks, and Isabella responds with a little half-laugh, half-cry that makes him duck his head nervously before meeting her eyes again.
Luisa catches up with them then, approaching their tío almost shyly. He notices her, looks up, way up into her face and blinks. "Hola, niña," he greets her.
Luisa giggles. "Hola, Tío Bruno." Carefully she reaches forward, pulling him into a gentle hug. Bruno's shoulders hunch, but he returns the hug as well as he can, though the picture the two of them present is almost entirely opposite of what it looks like when he's with Antonio.
She lets go, and Bruno cannot quite hide a sigh of relief. "You're, uh, practically grown up, Luisa," he says, taking a step back from her so he doesn't have to look up as far to see her face. "Taller than your papá now, no?"
"She's taller by a full seven inches." Isabella tells him, grinning. Luisa chuckles nervously.
"He was so proud of being the tallest in la familia," Bruno says, winking up at the tall girl. "He must have-he must have been heartbroken."
"He was inconsolable for weeks." Dolores confirms. "Papá thought it was hilarious. Pride comes before a fall, he said."
Isabella cracks up. Luisa grins. Bruno chuckles softly. "Sounds like your pá."
"We were thinking about having lunch together?" Isabella says, and Bruno shifts uncomfortably. Isabella doesn't catch it, but Mirabel does. "All of us, and Camilo y Antonio too. Like a picnic?"
"Sounds, sounds nice." Bruno replies, staring momentarily at his feet. Dolores's lips purse, and Mirabel is sure she's not the only one to notice that their uncle is not exactly excited about the idea, but her older cousin says nothing, and it's settled. They're all meeting for lunch.
Julieta watches her hermano reunite with her daughters with tears in her eyes. Augustín wraps an arm around her and pulls her to his side, watching as well. He's grinning ear to ear and a bit teary himself.
"Have you talked to him yet?" Her husband asks, and Julieta shakes her head. She's waiting for him to come to her because she knows her brother, even if it's been ten years, and while he's done a remarkable job of keeping it together for the kids, she remembers that he's always been like that, shoving everything else aside, including his own problems, for the sake of his sobrinos.
She doesn't know if he can do the same for the adult members of the family, or if he even wants to.
She still remembers how absolutely terrified he looked when he returned, how timidly how followed their mamá, how completely unprepared he had been for his sisters to throw themselves at him.
He had wanted to run then. She saw it plainly in his face. She was surprised when he didn't. Bruno had never hesitated to retreat in the past when things became too much for him, and things had plainly been too much for him then.
She's glad he's reconnecting with her daughters and nephews and niece, but she misses her brother. Somehow it hurts even worse now that he's back and just out of reach than it did having him gone all this time. And the knowledge that they have so much to work through-so much still that they need to talk about, to fix, if they can, is like a knife twisting in her gut.
It's hard to wait.
Augustín holds her tighter, as if he knows what she's thinking.
Camilo and Bruno meet up with Señor Rodriguez and get to work. Camilo thinks the man is getting used to his uncle. He's starting to look-not exactly comfortable, he supposes, but less uncomfortable. It's not the same, but it is progress.
Bruno looks a little jittery, but the smile he offers his nephew is genuine. "Good morning, Camilo," he says it softly.
"Hey," Camilo says. "I, uh, already dropped Fernando off with Antonio. I hope that's okay." Bruno nods.
"He has Alejandro as well, we-he-we ran into each other earlier."
They get to work, the three of them. Camilo can admit, if only to himself, that it's nice, doing normal, everyday things to help, even if he barely knows Señor Rodriguez, and even if his uncle is a little strange.
They've been working for about an hour, and Camilo is actually starting to enjoy himself, when Bruno abruptly pulls the hood of his ruana up over his head, covering most of his face. Camilo keeps working for a moment, wondering whether to say anything or not, but the hood doesn't come back down, and his uncle's hands are shaking.
"You okay?" he asks, and gets no response. "Bruno?"
"Hernando," the man corrects him, his voice suddenly deeper. "Hernando is afraid of nothing."
Camilo looks around, wondering what there is to be afraid of, but Bruno pulls the hood back down a moment later, grinning bashfully. "It's me, actually," he says, but doesn't explain, and Camilo doesn't ask because whatever just happened was weird and he's not sure what to do with it.
"Does this look right?" he asks, because he has no idea what else to say.
They all meet for lunch, and while Bruno is quiet, Camilo doesn't think anything of it at first. The rats flock to him from Antonio, leaving the five-year-old looking just a little bit forlorn. One of the rats is perched on each shoulder while another is nestled in the hair on the top of Bruno's head, and all of them are nuzzling against the man as if it's been more than just a few hours since they last saw him.
Bruno is feeding them crumbs from his pocket before Isabella can even begin to unpack their lunch, and Mirabel is watching him with concern, though Camilo isn't entirely sure why.
The girls are laughing as they set their noonday meal out on a blanket, and Bruno runs out of crumbs. He's holding Fernando in one hand, stroking him slowly and methodically with two fingers, from head to right above scaly tail.
"Is that a rat?" Luisa asks, and Camilo wonders if she's afraid of the things-whether any of the girls are, but Bruno nods, and Antonio starts explaining which rat is which and about how he's been taking care of them the past couple of days.
"Are they tame?" Isabella asks, uncertain.
"Yep!" Antonio declares. "They're super friendly too! You can pet them, even hold them! And if you feed them, they'll stay with you."
Luisa looks uncertainly from Antonio to Bruno. "Can I?" she asks, hopefully. "Hold one, I mean?"
Bruno wordlessly drops a rat into her outstretched hands. Luisa freezes, watching it intently, and their uncle snorts.
"Y-you can move. He won't, he won't jump at you." Luisa brings the rat closer to her but continues to stare at it. Bruno sighs and holds up the first two fingers of his right hand. "Two fingers," he says to her. "You can pet him, like-like this, down his back with t-two fingers." He demonstrates with Fernando, and Luisa meekly copies him. "That-that's Alejandro. He-he's shy, so he won't, uh, he won't jump around much. Probably just stay in your hand, unless you p-put him somewhere else."
Antonio shows her how to feed the rat while the other girls watch. Camilo watches as well, until Fernando leaps into his lap and starts begging. Rosalita is now demanding Antonio's attention, and suddenly three of the Madrigal children find themselves occupied with feeding their uncle's rats.
The other children are content to simply watch.
Camilo abruptly realizes that Bruno has his hood up again. A quick glance confirms that his hands are shaking as well. Camilo still doesn't know what to do, so he clears his throat and tries to catch Mirabel's eye.
She looks, and Camilo tilts his head towards their uncle. Mirabel frowns and mouths "Hernando," and that's what he called himself earlier, but it still doesn't give him any idea what to do about it.
Dolores also notices. Her brows furrow, and a tiny frown replaces the smile that had been on her face only a moment before.
"May I?" Without waiting for permission, she scoops Fernando out of Camilo's lap and, repressing a shudder, drops him into Bruno's.
Hands close over the creature instantly, stroking its fur almost frantically. Fernando squeaks, and another rat, the one Antonio is feeding, looks up. A second later it abandons Antonio, making a beeline straight for Bruno.
"Rosa-?" Antonio begins, but Dolores shushes him, shaking her head. The boy quiets, watching as the second rat races up Bruno's arm to perch on his shoulder, nose and whiskers nuzzling against his neck
Dolores shoots a meaningful look at Isabella and goes right on with her lunch as if their uncle isn't hiding under the hood of his ruana, pretending to be another person, frantically running trembling fingers through the fur of one of his rats.
Luisa offers up the last of the rats, and Camilo takes it from her and sets it down next to Bruno. It immediately scrambles up onto his other shoulder, also nuzzling against their uncle's neck.
Luisa turns her attention to her lunch, and after a long moment, Camilo does the same, though he still has no idea what's happening. Mirabel isn't entirely sure either, he can tell, and Antonio only seems to know that something's wrong, and that their older sister wants him to be quiet.
It's only a few minutes later, but it seems like an eternity before their uncle suddenly takes a noticeable breath, his shoulders dropping as he exhales. He reaches up with a hand that is still slightly unsteady and slowly pulls back his hood and looks around, eyes wide and uncertain and tinged with both guilt and embarrassment.
"Ah, perdoname," he manages. "It's-it's-"
"A bit bright," Dolores offers, and it is. It's a very bright, very sunny sort of day, with not a cloud in the sky, but Camilo isn't convinced that the sun being too bright is the problem.
"Very b-bright." Bruno agrees lamely.
Mirabel doesn't look entirely convinced either, but Isabella shakes her head, tossing her hair just so, and changes the subject back to the rats.
"How long have you had them?" She nods toward Fernando. "They aren't the same ones, are they?"
"No." Bruno shakes his head and looks down at the rat. "I-I've had Rosalita and, and Fernando for-five years?" He frowns at the animal as he thinks. "Yeah, Rosalita since just before Antonio was born. Fernando I found-I found maybe a month or so after. Alejandro is three."
"And Rosalita and Fernando are in love." Antonio adds, for good measure. Bruno manages a weak smile and nods.
"They are," he agrees.
Camilo isn't sure that rats can be in love, but he's not going to argue about it. His uncle seems to be calming down, just a little.
"And Ophelia is very pregnant," Dolores adds. Antonio perks up.
"I haven't met Ophelia," he says, looking hopefully at Bruno.
"That's because she's pregnant, silly." Dolores tells him, rolling her eyes even as she smiles. "Maybe once the babies are born, you can meet her too."
"S-She probably won't be, you know, up-up for company for at least a few days after." Bruno says. He still hasn't looked up. "But, but maybe when she feels-feels up to it."
"Yes!" Antonio grins hugely at his uncle, and Camilo is pretty sure the only thing keeping his hermano from tackling the man is the fact that he has three rats on him, and Antonio doesn't want to risk hurting them.
Bruno stands up abruptly. "I need-I haven't, ah, checked on Ophel-Ophelia today," he says, ducking his head in an unspoken apology. "I should-I mean, I-" He doesn't finish, instead gesturing a little wildly with the hand currently not occupied with a rat. He starts to turn, then catches himself.
Camilo is surprised when his tío hands Fernando to him, even more so when he offers the other two back to Antonio and Luisa. "You can w-w-watch all of them, after-after lunch, Toñito?" Bruno asks the small boy. He gets an enthusiastic nod in reply.
"Gracias," Their uncle leaves them then, without offering another word of explanation, without even saying goodbye.
The kids sit silent for a moment, confused and worried. Camilo finds that it is strangely comforting, having a rat to pet while he tries to figure out what just happened.
Isabella clears her throat and exchanges a look with Dolores, who stifles a small sigh. "So," Isabella says, settling herself in as if for a long conversation. "We should probably talk about Bruno."
Mirabel raises a challenging eyebrow at her older sister, and Isabella has to remind herself that: one, her baby sister isn't really old enough to remember what Tío Bruno was like before he was left and two, Mirabel is the reason they have their uncle back after all these years.
Still, it's annoying. They never had to explain these things to Luisa.
She looks from Mirabel to Camilo, who is obviously worried, to Antonio, who is still upset in spite of being put back in charge of the rats for the day.
"Rule number one: don't sneak up on Tío Bruno," she says. "Unless you want him to have a heart attack. He gets startled very easily." Nods all around, they had noticed that much, then. Good.
"Don't pester him about eating." Luisa offered, a bit shyly. "Rule number two."
"The adults like to give him a hard time about it, if they think he's not eating enough," Isabella explains. "But it only makes him feel bad, and then he's less likely to eat, so just don't." Camilo and Mirabel are staring at her as if she's grown a second head. Antonio is paying rapt attention, taking in every word.
"If you ask him what's wrong and he says nothing, or even never mind, don't ask him again." Dolores continues, and though her voice is soft, it's firm. "He's not going to tell you. He doesn't like to worry us kids. If he needs something, he'll find Tía or Mamá or somebody else to help."
"Tío Bruno can be a little-odd sometimes." Isabella doesn't know how else to explain it. She doesn't want the younger kids to worry too much, and they need to know at least a little bit about their uncle, but she also realizes going into everything she and Dolores and Luisa put together about him during the years before he left might reveal things better left unsaid.
A part of her wonders, though, if the worst of it might have gone away when his gift did.
She hopes so. He deserves peace, and even though it hurts to have lost hers, feels like a physical ache in her gut, she is at least a little relieved that he doesn't have to deal with his anymore, because she knows, even though nobody ever really talked about it out loud, that his gift was hard on him.
"He's been through a lot, hasn't he?" Mirabel isn't really asking. Isabella can tell that even though she doesn't know everything, she still knows a little. She wonders how her sister found him, and where, and how on earth she managed to bring him home.
Mirabel looks as if she's trying to make a decision. They wait, three of them still taking comfort from their uncle's rats. At long last she takes a deep breath.
"All right," she says, fidgeting with her bag. "Look, I don't think the parents need to know, or at least, not yet. And probably Bruno should be the one to tell them, if he decides he wants them to know. But Dolores knew all along, and Antonio already knows, and I think if the rest of you know-maybe you can help. After all, you seem to know him better than I do."
She looks a little sad at that, as if she thought they were going to be best friends after she brought him back and was disappointed to find out that her sisters and older cousin already had relationships with him. Isabella rests a hand on her knee, trying to reassure her, and it feels awkward after years of not getting along, but Mirabel doesn't pull away.
"You brought him home," she reminds the younger girl, and smiles. After a moment, Mirabel returns the smile, gratitude in her eyes.
"He never left," Mirabel says, her tone all business now. "He hid in the walls of Casita for ten years." Dolores nods, as if she knew-of course she knew.
"What?" Camilo splutters, and Isabella can't believe it either. "He did what?"
"After I didn't get a gift," Mirabel clarifies, looking far calmer than she should about any of this. "He had a vision. About me. And he was worried that everyone would think the worst, so he left to protect me." All of that made perfect sense to Isabella, as much as she wished it didn't. "Except he actually hid in the walls, patching the cracks in Casita, for ten years. I found him when his rats tried to steal the broken pieces of the vision about me."
"So he hid in the house for ten years." Luisa is still trying to process. "In the walls."
Mirabel nods. "I think being out again-it's hard for him. Lots of people, nowhere safe to hide, really. You know?"
"He didn't really like being around a lot of people before he left." Dolores says.
"Yeah, we kids were kind of the exception." Isabella realizes. "Other than us, outside of the family, he didn't really like being around more than a couple people at a time. And he hated going into town."
"Maybe it's too much right now for him to be around all of us at once," Luisa offers hesitantly, as if she's been thinking about what happened since Tío Bruno left. "We're older now, and he hasn't been around anyone else for ten years, so maybe he got overwhelmed?"
"So what, we make sure that only a couple of us are around him at once?" Camilo asks. "That sucks..." He sighs. "He did the hood thing earlier, too, but he came out of it pretty quick. I just thought he was being weird."
"You couldn't have known." Dolores points out. "Look, I would like to think this goes without saying, but nobody needs to mention any of this to Tío. It'll just make him feel bad because he doesn't like to worry people, and he definitely doesn't like to worry us kids."
"Not a word," Mirabel promises, and the rest of the Madrigal children nod in agreement. Even Antonio, as young as he is, seems to understand the importance of keeping this quiet.
Bruno doesn't really need to check on Ophelia. In fact, he currently has absolutely no idea where she is.
He doesn't know where most of the rats are right now, which is fine, it's safer that way, really, until Casita is rebuilt.
It doesn't make him feel any better.
He's dimly aware that he's standing under a tree, slightly hunched over, doing his best to be invisible as he tries to pull himself together.
It is not okay to break down in front of the kids. They're kids. They don't need to worry about stuff they can't do anything about.
They don't need to worry about him.
Bruno knows himself well enough by now to know that he's pushed himself too far, and that it's not likely he's going to be able to get it together anytime soon. He wants to find somewhere quiet, somewhere dark and safe where he won't be disturbed, somewhere he can close his eyes and focus on remembering how to breathe without having to worry about being seen.
Because he really doesn't want to be seen. Not now, not like this.
He wants to find his sister, like he used to when he was younger and everything felt like too much. He wants to follow her around like a second shadow, drawing comfort from her presence and warmth and the slight hint of spices that always seems to be present when she is.
Those days are long gone. He doesn't know what to say to her now. How to make things right.
He knows that she, of all people, probably thought he was dead. He doesn't know how to come back from that.
"Cuñado?" Bruno jumps about three feet in the air at the sound; he didn't hear anyone come up behind him. He spins around, staring.
Augustín is standing there, close but not too close, one hand slightly extended as if he was going to reach out and touch Bruno and thought better of it.
"Sorry," Augustín looks embarrassed. Bruno's heart is still pounding. "You okay?"
Bruno stares at him. Julieta's husband just scared him half to death, and he's got nothing left. No energy for explanations. No strength for lies. Nothing.
His legs give out beneath him and he drops to his knees.
"Whoa!" Augustín visibly resists the urge to touch him, instead kneeling to put himself closer to the other man's level. "Bruno?"
Bruno doesn't reply. He can't. The words are stuck, and not just in his throat. He's got nothing but blind panic taking over his mind, and resisting ten years of instinct telling him Run! Hide! is almost more than he can manage at the moment.
Augustín looks him over, briefly, before sitting all the way down. It looks a little funny, because Augustín is always so well dressed and usually, in spite of how clumsy he can be, very careful of his clothes.
He doesn't say anything, just sits there, and Bruno hunches in on himself, waiting for the man to say something, because really, Bruno is a fifty-year-old man having a panic attack under a tree for no reason.
He has his family back.
He got to meet his youngest nephew.
His gift is gone.
He should be happy, right? Not terrified that it's all going to come crashing down on him. Not worried that the kids are going to figure out that their uncle is actually a royal screw-up. Not ashamed of running away and leaving his family without answers when they were at their most desperate.
And definitely not terrified that his niece, the reason he left in the first place, thinks he's insane.
He might be insane. He doesn't know anymore.
He becomes dimly aware that Augustín is saying something, telling him to breathe, and he tries to look at the man, tries to bring himself back to the present.
"Breathe, Bruno." Augustín hesitates briefly before leaning forward, tapping the man gently on the knee.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Bruno stares at him in shock. Augustín ducks his head sheepishly. After a long moment Bruno copies the action, feeling something loosen just the tiniest bit in his chest.
"It's a lot, isn't it?" Augustín says, his tone light. "Being back after ten years." Bruno nods, and pulls the hood of his ruana up over his head. His cuñado doesn't ask, but then, he's seen Bruno do this before, once, about fifteen years ago.
Bruno's done it lot more these past ten years. Anything to make it through another day, and really, it's not the worst thing he's done to survive.
They sit there in silence for a while, and Bruno tries his best to get it together. His breathing is unsteady, his heart still hammering in his chest, and he can feel his eyes getting hot and prickly. It makes him feel childish and immature, and he hates that too.
He's just starting to calm down, just enough to pull the hood back down, he thinks, when he feels Augustín shift beside him. A hand settles gently on his arm without warning, causing him to tense back up.
"You know if you need anything, you only have to ask," Augustín says kindly, and it breaks him. The next thing he knows he's sobbing into the other man's shoulder and he can't stop-it feels like ten years of grief and loneliness and sorrow are tearing their way out of him. Augustín's arms wrap around him, bracing him as he cries.
By the time he's done, he's too tired to feel embarrassed, too numb to feel guilty. He just sits there with his head on his brother-in-law's shoulder, shaking, while Augustín rubs his back the way he used to do his girls when they were little.
Bruno sniffs. "S-Sorry-Sorry," he manages, his throat hoarse. Augustín shushes him, patting his shoulder gently.
"It's all right," he says, as if Bruno isn't an adult who should be able to keep from bawling like a baby in front of his sister's husband.
Bruno remembers vaguely that Augustín has never been particularly judgmental, as far as his gift is concerned. Not about anything Bruno's seen, not about him wanting to keep his visions to himself (that one in particular had not gone over well with anyone else), and certainly not about any of the unfortunate side effects Bruno's gift brought with it, though he's always been careful to give Bruno his space when he thought he needed it.
Augustín pulls away, just enough to look Bruno in the eyes. "Should I get someone?" he asks; he seems to realize Bruno's not in any state to move, not for a while. "Julieta, maybe?"
Bruno shakes his head. He's not ready for that.
"Do you want to be alone?" Is his next question, and while Bruno doesn't want to keep bothering the man, he doesn't really want that either. He's been alone for a long time, enough to last him a lifetime. It's not really fair that he wants so badly not to be alone, only to feel immediately trapped anytime he's around anyone.
Augustín seems to find an answer in Bruno's silence, because he shifts to make himself more comfortable in the grass.
It's dinner time, and Antonio is panicking. He's lost one of the rats. Pepa is trying to convince him that it's okay, that they always turn up eventually, and Félix is trying to help look for the thing, and Mirabel and Camilo look almost as upset as Antonio does.
"But he trusted me to keep them safe!" Tears run down her baby's cheeks, and Pepa is torn between sorrow that her son is so hurt and anger that her brother put him in this situation to begin with. "It's Alejandro, and he's shy, and he's probably scared, and, and-"
"We'll find him, mijo," Félix insists. It doesn't help. Antonio starts crying even harder, and the rats perched on either shoulder only seem to be making things worse.
Pepa reminds herself to take a deep breath and is glad that her gift is no longer there to add to the disaster at hand by drenching everyone.
She sees a particular shade of green out of the corner of her eye and wheels around. "Bruno!"
Her brother cringes, and really, he looks absolutely terrible, but Pepa ignores it as Antonio turns and sees him too-only to abruptly hide behind Mirabel.
Bruno approaches hesitantly, looking from her to Félix to Mirabel to Camilo and at last, finally, down at Antonio. "What's wrong?" he asks, kneeling down. Pepa's youngest ducks even further behind his cousin's skirts, and Bruno looks up to her, his expression concerned. "You okay, kid?"
"He can't find Alejandro." Mirabel explains, and Bruno nods.
"Ah, well, he'll be back soon, I'm sure..."
"But you said he doesn't wander off!" Antonio wails into Mirabel's skirt. "And you trusted me, and I lost him."
Bruno looks worried. Pepa hopes he's worried about her son, but she's seen how he can be about his rats.
"Are Rosalita and Fernando still with you?" he asks, and Antonio nods. When Bruno reaches out for them, the child practically folds in on himself in misery before handing them over.
"I'm sorry," he says.
Bruno doesn't answer. He's too busy staring at the rats. "Do you know where he is?" he asks, as if expecting an answer. He receives none.
Shaking his head, he reconsiders the little boy still hiding behind his prima. "It's okay, mijo. I'm sure he's fine. Sometimes they just wander off. Rats are like that."
"But I was supposed to keep them safe." Antonio sniffs. "And there's cats, and hawks, and owls, and people-what if he's hurt? What if he's lost and scared and-" Pepa's son hiccoughs and immediately starts bawling.
Bruno watches him for a moment, then sighs. "Here," he says, handing the other rats back to him. Antonio looks surprised that his uncle still trusts him with them. Pepa hopes that whatever her brother is about to do, that it doesn't make her little boy feel worse.
Bruno stands. Clearing his throat, he turns to Pepa. "You-you might-you might want to brace yourself," he warns her, and a chill runs down the woman's spine. Without further explanation, her hermano steps a short distance away from the group, rolls his shoulders, and takes a deep breath.
"Y ay, Dios mio, fueron compañeros de cuarto!" Pepa watches as her brother gasps dramatically and presses one hand to his forehead. "Que horror! Escándalo! Y qué dirán los vecinos?" His voice carries clearly through the air, clearly enough that people a good distance away are stopping and turning to look. Pepa recognizes it as his 'performance' voice, the one he used for prophecies and storytelling, before he left.
It is a tone of voice calculated to be not only clearly heard, but to catch the ear and draw the listener in, holding them spellbound until he chooses to let them go. Pepa used to appreciate it, especially when used to keep the children busy. Now...
She doesn't know how she feels, hearing it again. One thing is certain, however. Pepa has no doubt most of the people helping rebuild Casita can hear him.
Most of the rats too, apparently.
At first it's just one or two, which is bad enough, but more keep coming, running straight in their direction. It is only through sheer force of will that Pepa stays put, that she doesn't scream or shriek. She hates rats, even her brother's, and now they're coming from everywhere, climbing up Bruno's legs and all over his clothes and rubbing against his face and hair and neck.
He's swarming with them by the time they stop coming, and Antonio is staring at him with huge eyes, tears all but forgotten.
"Wow," he says.
Bruno smiles at him and picks one rat out of the crowd. "Alejandro, where were you? You scared us half to death." He offers the rat to Antonio. "See? He's fine. No harm done."
Antonio accepts the furry offering, but continues to stare. Mirabel and Camilo are staring as well. Bruno finally notices their gaze, and turns to look at them.
"That's...a lot of rats." Camilo says. Bruno looks slightly embarrassed. "That's more than twelve."
Bruno looks himself over, as if counting them. "It's been a while," he admits.
"That's, like, seventeen rats, Tío." Camilo chuckles. Bruno shrugs.
"Most of them do their own thing, most of the time. They're just hoping for a treat, since I called them."
"And you can call the rats." It isn't really a question. They just watched him do it. Bruno shrugs again.
"Shoo, I'll feed you later," he mutters. All but three of the rats disperse, leaving Pepa's skin crawling in their wake. Her brother shoots an apologetic glance in her direction. "No harm done, hombrecito," he says, kneeling back down to Antonio's level.
"You're still going to watch them for me, aren't you, Antonio?" he asks. "Just because Alejandro gave you a hard time today, you aren't giving up on him, are you?"
Pepa appreciates that he's making it sound as if the rat is at fault and not her son. She hopes Antonio believes it.
Antonio nods solemnly. "I won't lose him again, I promise," he says, and Bruno chuckles.
"Mijo, sometimes I lose track of them. They like to get into mischief, even Alejandro, now and again." He pats the child awkwardly on the head. "I appreciate you watching them."
Antonio favors him with a smile that makes Pepa's heart melt and throws himself at Bruno's legs, hugging him fiercely.
It takes Bruno ten minutes to get the child loose from him. When he finally does, he wishes him goodnight before turning to Camilo and Mirabel and doing the same. He leaves without saying a word to either Pepa or Félix.
She tries not to be angry, or hurt, and fails.
Bruno all but throws himself into his blanket pile-his bedding is arranged more like a nest than anything else-when they return to Señora Garcia's for the night. Mirabel looks first at him, then at Dolores, uncertain.
Dolores figures he's just exhausted and shakes her head, settling into her own bedding. Mirabel hesitates for a moment before following suit.
"Goodnight, Tío Bruno," Dolores says. She receives a mumbled reply that suggests he's already half asleep.
"Goodnight, Tío Bruno." Mirabel echoes, settling down as well.
Dolores is not sure how much sleep either of them will get tonight, and she's pretty sure their uncle, all but passed out in between them, is the reason. She's worried; Mirabel has to be as well.
At least they both agree; neither wants to wake their tío.
Dolores lays there quietly for a long time.
Author's note: I feel like Bruno has a lot of issues, but given that he "left" to protect Mirabel from his vision, I also think he would try to hide as much of his problems as he can from "the kids." Anyway.
Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, etc. You guys are awesome!
Disclaimer: Disney's Encanto does not belong to me.