Almost immediately after dragging the promise out of Luz to stay with her, to never return to the Demon Realm, Camila regretted it. She still wanted it, and a part of her still clung to it, but she knew it wasn't fair. Luz was fourteen, she was a teenager now, and she could make her own choices. Camila didn't want her to be in danger, and she would do whatever she could to keep her safe, but she couldn't protect her baby from everything, as much as she might have wanted to. Luz had to live her own life.
It was hurt, more than anything else, that had driven her to extract the promise. There was worry, of course, and even fear, but it was mostly hurt. Hurt that Luz had decided to leave, decided to stay, decided to live somewhere her mother couldn't reach. But that hurt was unfair, because Camila knew full well that happy children didn't run away. If she'd made Luz feel that leaving was her only option, that was her own fault.
"Can you tell me about the Demon Realm?" she'd asked Vee gently, and Vee had tentatively explained it to her. It sounded incredible. It sounded mad. It sounded like a fantasy world out of one of Luz's favorite novels. Of course she'd want to stay there, especially when Camila was trying to get her to close herself up and lock herself down and limit herself for the ease of others. The camp had been a bad idea, she knew in retrospect. She should have made it clear to Luz that she loved her no matter what, and that she didn't have to change a thing about herself, not if she didn't want to.
In the Demon Realm, Luz had been able to be herself, and Camila hated that she hadn't felt that way when she was at home.
So Camila had relented on the promise, at least to herself. When she saw Luz again, she'd decided, she would tell her that she could go back to the Demon Realm, Camila just wanted to make sure Luz was safe and always came home. That was all she needed. That was all she could ask out of her brave, beautiful girl.
And then, Luz had shown up at her door, bedraggled and injured, leading four similarly wet and wounded children. Camila didn't know the details, but she knew something had hurt her little girl. Something in the Demon Realm had hurt her badly.
She knew it was unfair, but she wanted to keep Luz to her promise.
She wanted it even more when she watched the way the kids ate and slept in a traumatized daze. She wanted it even more when she watched the blond boy have a panic attack over a question. She wanted it even more when Luz came upstairs and told her, finally, the truth of what had happened. There was danger in the Demon Realm, serious danger, and Camila didn't want her daughter anywhere near it.
Unfortunately, Luz seemed determined to stick herself right in the middle.
"You can't," part of Camila wanted to protest. "You promised. You can't put yourself in this amount of danger, mija, please."
But she'd told herself she wouldn't do that, so she just swallowed hard and said, "We'll figure this out together, okay? We can do it, one day at a time."
"Okay," Luz said, but Camila could tell she was still holding back, still hiding something. She wonders now if she should have said more about Luz's promise and how she won't hold her to it, but she didn't want to. She knows she should, but she isn't ready, not yet. Not with everything Luz told her. She wants to figure out the safest way forward first.
She wants Luz to be happy. She wants Luz to be safe. She wants Luz to have the freedom to be where she wants to be. Unfortunately, Camila isn't quite sure how to have all three. She's not sure she'll have time to figure it out; Luz came forward and talked to her, and Camila knows that now, she needs to step forward and talk to Luz. Things won't be able to start going back to normal until she does that.
Luz is holding back, yes, and things aren't the same, but it turns out some things are. Luz still knows she can rely on her mother. When the frantic phone call comes in, Camila is glad of it. She's glad Luz still calls her for help.
She wishes Luz didn't have to call her, though. She wishes the kids could just have a fun time in the park, and that nothing would go wrong. She still doesn't know exactly what did go wrong, and it's eating at her as she drives a bit too fast down the street. All she knows is that Luz asked her to come, told her in a rush that something was wrong with Hunter. Camila doesn't have an active imagination, not like her daughter, but the imagination she does have is driving her insane.
She parks by the square and hurries in, searching for her kids. Luz said they were by the statue of the town founders, so Camila heads that way. They're not directly there, but they're not far; Camila finds them all huddled around a tree. When she gets a bit closer, she sees they're huddled around Hunter, who is curled by the base of the tree and crying.
Camila watches him for a moment before stepping forward. She would say he's sobbing, except he's so quiet about it. Children shouldn't cry quietly; children should be loud when they cry, and they should demand the attention and help they need. This strangled crying - these gasping, hiccuping tears that are muffled by a hand clamped to his mouth - isn't right for a child. This is a learned behavior, and Camila doesn't think she'll like the person who taught it to Hunter.
"Luz," she calls softly as she approaches. She doesn't want to crowd Hunter, especially not with the way he reacted to her before.
"Mom!" Luz pulls away from the group immediately and hurries to Camila's side. "Something's wrong with Hunter. He won't stop crying, and he won't talk to us about it, and he's just- I think he's dissociating, he hardly even seems to know that we're here-"
"Calm down, mija," Camila urges. "You won't be able to help your friend if you're panicking too."
Luz nods miserably. "Can you help him?"
Camila is a veterinarian, not a therapist. She can do her best, but helping victims of trauma isn't her speciality. Hunter has obviously been through a lot of trauma, and he could definitely use a therapist, but Camila is the best he's got right now.
"I can try," she tells Luz. "Let's see if we can get him in the car and bring him home."
Luz nods and goes back over to Hunter's side. "Hunter? My mom is here with the car. Do you want to go back to my house?"
Hunter shies away from Luz, his shoulders tight. Camila reads his body language the best she can. She's better with the body language of animals, but there are similarities between the ways that animals and humans move. She can see that Hunter is upset, that much is obvious, but she can also see that Hunter is afraid.
She doesn't disagree with Luz's assumption that Hunter is dissociating, but she thinks he's more aware of the people around him than Luz thought. For some reason, though, he doesn't seem to feel comforted by them. Instead, they seem to be making things worse.
"Can you give him a little space, everyone?" Camila asks. She puts a hand on Luz's shoulder, and Luz reluctantly takes a step back. The others do too, in a staggered chorus, and Hunter seems to get a tiny bit less tense.
The tension returns when Camila crouches next to Hunter, but it feels different somehow. "Hunter?" Camila asks gently. "Do you want to stay here, or do you want to come back to the house? Either one is alright. It's your choice."
Hunter's eyes focus on her for a moment, then they drop. "House," he whispers, barely intelligible through his tears.
"Alright," Camila agrees easily. "Do you want the others to come back with us, or do you want some space? It's your decision."
Camila can practically feel the tension racket up behind her, but she ignores it. Hunter's gaze flickers up to his friends, and his breathing picks up by a tick, so Camila shifts her weight just slightly and his eyes fly back to her.
"It's your decision, Hunter. The others will be fine either way."
There's a long pause, then finally, Hunter breathes, "Space."
"Okay," Camila says immediately, hoping none of the kids behind her say a word. "It's your decision. If that's what you need, then I'll get you home."
The others clearly don't like that, but luckily, none of them say so aloud. Camila needs Hunter to feel safe, and particularly, to feel safe when making a choice. She has the feeling he hasn't been able to make a lot of his own choices in the past. She wants him to know that he can, and that he doesn't need to be afraid of choosing the wrong thing.
"Alright, mijo," she says, standing and holding out a hand. Hunter flinches, even though it's not anywhere near touching him. Camila fights the impulse to pull away; she doesn't want to scare him with a sudden movement, and she also thinks this can help prove her point. She's not going to hurt him. She's holding out her hand to help.
"I brought the car," she tells Hunter. "Let's get you up and into it, and then I'll take you home."
She internally winces over the final word as soon as it leaves her mouth; home for Hunter is a realm they can't reach. But he doesn't react to her phrasing, just stares at her hand for another long moment before slowly reaching for it. He seems like he's waiting for her to pull it back at the last second. Camila hardly dares to breathe.
Hunter's leather glove is cool in her hand. She doesn't squeeze his hand the way she half wants to, not sure if the gloves are because of an injury and also unsure if he'll take the squeeze as reassurance or a threat. Instead, she just helps pull him to his feet. He's shaking slightly, and tears are still streaming silently down his face. The shivers are probably from emotion more than cold, but still, Camila shrugs off her jacket and drapes it around Hunter's shoulders. She hopes the warmth will be a comfort.
"Okay, let's go to the car," she tells Hunter, leading him away from the others. She's glad they've kept quiet this long. They'll start talking the second she and Hunter leave, she's sure, and they'll probably head back to the house soon, but the car is faster. Hunter will have some time to himself, at least.
Vee is out with friends. She'd admitted to Camila almost guiltily that she'd made plans with them during the week, and that she wanted to still see them but wasn't sure if it was alright. Camila had told her to go, that she should see her friends and have fun. She's glad of it now, glad there's one less person she'll have to keep away from Hunter.
She will keep his friends away, if he wants her too. Not forever, that wouldn't be healthy, but for a while. If he wants space, if he needs time to process, she'll be sure he gets it.
Camila guides Hunter to the car, and only when they reach it does it occur to her that he may not know what a car is, and he almost definitely has never been in one before. "This is my car," she tells him as she unlocks it. "It's a machine that we can use to travel. I'll be sitting in the seat up here, with the wheel, and I'll drive the car. Do you want to sit in the front seat next to me, or in the back?"
Hunter looks at her for a moment, then he slips into the back seat. Camila was expecting that. She nods and sits behind the wheel, and she hopes Hunter doesn't notice the deep breath she takes.
She's sure he does. The boy seems too observant for his own good.
Hunter startles a bit as the car starts. He's huddled forward, and when Camila looks in the rear view mirror, she notices he's not wearing his seatbelt. Of course he isn't; he probably doesn't even know what it is. For a moment, Camila considers not mentioning it, but it's for his safety. She hopes it'll go well.
"Hunter? There's a belt to your left, and a buckle to your right. Can you bring the belt across your body and secure it with the buckle? It's called a seatbelt. It'll keep you safe if the car crashes."
Hunter swallow visibly. Camila unbuckles her own seatbelt and holds it out. "Like this," she says, then she very clearly buckles it again. "You just need to press the button for it to release."
She can see that the explanation has assuaged some of his fears. She hopes all of them, but doubts it. Apparently, though, it's enough, because Hunter slowly takes the seatbelt and buckles himself in. He's tense against it, but it's secured.
"Thank you," Camila says. "Let's go back to the house now."
She pulls out of the parking spot and starts driving back home. She keeps it slow, this time, within the lower bound of the speed limit. She doesn't know how Hunter will feel about driving faster. She hopes his stomach will be able to handle the car easily; she knows too many people who get carsick to be certain of it.
If Hunter feels sick, he doesn't mention it. Honestly, Camila's starting to think he wouldn't. He does relax a bit when they reach the house and Camila parks the car. He takes off his seatbelt the second she takes off hers, which is unsurprising but a little worrying, all things considered.
Camila turns slightly in her seat so she can look at Hunter. He ducks his head, but she can see that he's still crying. "I'm going into the house," she tells him gently. "You can wait in the car if you want to be really alone, or you can come in with me. I promise I'll give you your space."
For a long moment, Hunter is silent. Camila is just reaching for the car door to go out when Hunter whispers, "I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" Camila asks. She'd tell him he has nothing to apologize over, but she doesn't get the feeling that a general platitude like that will mean much to Hunter. If she wants to make him feel better, she thinks it'll be best if she finds out what he thinks he's done wrong, and then she can explain to him specifically why it's alright.
"Making you come get me," Hunter whispers. "Acting like a child. Losing control. And for earlier, in the kitchen. Making a scene."
Each word feels like a fracture in Camila's heart. "You didn't make me come get you, Hunter. Luz called to ask me for help, and I answered, because I will always answer if any of you need my help. And you weren't acting like a child for crying. Everyone cries, even adults. Losing control sometimes is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you don't hurt anyone." She takes a breath, then she adds, "What happened in the kitchen this morning wasn't making a scene, it was a panic attack. And those happen for a reason. That one happened because I triggered it. I didn't mean to, but I still did it, and I'm sorry."
Hunter peeks up at her, then he looks back down and shakes his head. Camila watches tears drip down into his gloved hands. He seems to be trying to keep the tears from touching his clothes as much as possible, for no reason Camila can fathom.
"The reason why I'm crying… It's not okay."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Camila asks.
Hunter hesitates.
"Do you want to go inside, instead of staying in here?" Camila asks. "It's nicer inside. It's warmer, and I can get you something to eat or drink. You should drink something so you don't end up dehydrated."
"I've had enough water recently that the dehydration won't be serious for a while longer," Hunter replies, which sets off about a million warning bells in Camila's head. A child shouldn't know that, not in the matter-of-fact way that Hunter does. She doesn't like it at all.
She tries her best not to let that show. "I think it's still a good idea to drink some water, but you don't have to if you don't want to."
Hunter peers at her. "But… I'm sorry, ma'am, is that an order or not?"
"An order?" Camila repeats. "I'm not going to order you to do anything, Hunter. There might be things I ask you to do, or things that I suggest that you do, but I'm not going to give you orders."
The specific term order rubs her the wrong way. She's had some suspicions about Hunter, but this… He was abused, she's certain. The jumpiness and the scars certainly indicate that. But there's something about him that almost seems… soldierly.
The boy looks only a little older than Luz. The mere thought makes her stomach turn.
"Do you want to go inside?" Camila asks.
After a moment, Hunter nods.
"Okay," Camila says. She gets out of the car and opens Hunter's door for him. She moves away quickly so he doesn't have to get too close to her to get out; she'd like to get him to trust her enough that he doesn't flinch away so much, but now isn't the time to do that. She goes up to the front door and unlocks it, and Hunter follows her inside, silent as a ghost.
"Do you want a drink?"
Hunter is silent for another moment, then he asks quietly, "May I have water, please?"
"Of course," Camila says, going to the kitchen. Hunter follows her and watches silently as she fills up a glass at the sink. She hands it to him, and Hunter accepts it with a respectful nod. He holds it in both hands, looking a little lost, and Camila resists the urge to wrap an arm around him. He won't like that, she knows, which would entirely go against what she'd be hoping to do.
"Do you want to sit down?" Camila asks, sitting down at the table. Hunter watches her, then he sits down on the other side of the table. He's mostly stopped crying, but his face is tearstained and his eyes are even more red than usual.
"If you want to talk, I'm always here to listen," Camila says. "But if you just want space, that's also okay."
"What did Luz tell you about me?" Hunter asks quietly.
"That you were a friend. Not much more beyond that."
"Did Vee tell you anything?"
"No. Did you and Vee know each other back in the Demon Realm?"
Hunter flinches violently, and he's still holding the glass, so the water sloshes over the side and onto his pants. He looks down at them in horror, then sets the glass on the table with shaking hands and whispers, "I'm sorry." Before Camila can stop him, he's slid down onto the floor and is kneeling before her, his head bowed and the line of his shoulders tense.
He looks like a kicked dog. He looks like a penitent soldier. He looks like a boy who's so, so sure he's about to be hit.
"You don't need to kneel," Camila says as her heart twists. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I spilled on the clothes," Hunter says. "You told me these belonged to your late husband. I did not respect them as I should have. I apologize."
Camila wants to cry. She wants to gather Hunter up in her arms and promise to keep him safe. She wants to find whoever hurt him and tear them apart.
But none of those things will help Hunter, so even though Camila isn't the therapist the boy desperately needs, she'll try to help him anyway.
"It's just water," she says. "There's no harm done. And it's alright if the clothes get a little dirty. I can wash them."
"I can wash them!" Hunter says quickly, looking up at her for an instant before dropping his head back down. He's still kneeling, still looking like he's waiting. "I dirtied them, so I can clean them."
"Mijo, you don't have to do that," Camila says. "You're a child. I'm an adult. It's my job to take care of you."
"I'm not a child," Hunter counters, but it doesn't sound indignant the way it would for most teenagers. Instead, it sounds a little sad, a little like he's given up.
"You are a child," Camila says. "And you deserve to be safe and have fun. You deserve to have someone watching over you. That's what I want to do."
Hunter doesn't move. Camila wishes he would stand.
She knows that, if she's going to get through to him properly, she's going to need to go a bit deeper. She hopes she won't regret this, then she adds, "And I don't know who taught you that you had to be on your own, or that you weren't allowed to make mistakes, or that having a bad time was a punishable offense, but they were wrong."
Hunter curls in on himself. Camila knows her bones will protest, but she slides out of her own chair and onto the floor with Hunter. Now they're at an equal level, at least, even if Hunter is still kneeling.
"The way I see it," Camila says, "you haven't done anything wrong since you got here. And to hear Luz tell it, you helped a lot in defeating the evil emperor. So-"
"He was my uncle," Hunter blurts out, interrupting her in a rush. "Emperor Belos. He was my uncle. And he was- He was evil, and he was trying to kill everyone, and he tried to kill me, but- but-"
Camila's not sure if she's ever wanted to hug someone so badly before. She's had this urge to commit violence once before, when she saw Vee in a cage. These children just keep getting hurt over and over again, and Camila can't let it go on any longer.
"I worked with him," Hunter adds, sounding terrified and desperate. "I was the Golden Guard. I was his right hand man. I- I-"
"How old are you?" Camila asks.
Hunter blinks at her. "Sixteen." Then he pauses, curls in on himself a bit, and adds, "At least, my uncle told me I was sixteen."
That doesn't sound good at all, but Camila doesn't have time to go into it right now, not when she has other things she wants to get straight. "You're sixteen. Your uncle was the emperor of the entire Demon Realm, right? He was in charge of everything?"
"Yes."
"And he raised you?" Hunter hasn't said that explicitly, but it's definitely the vibe that Camila has gotten so far.
"Yes."
She hesitates a moment, not sure if she should keep going, and then she adds, "And he hurt you?"
Hunter's hand drifts up to the scar on his face. Camila's heart sinks; she'd been hoping against hope that the scar was from something less awful, something more normal. She didn't quite know what could create that sort of a scar without being awful, especially given the healing magic she'd heard the others mentioning before, but she'd hoped anyway.
Her hopes, it seems, were in vain. She hadn't wanted to admit it, even to herself, but she'd known all along that they must have been.
"Whatever you may have done," Camila tells Hunter quietly, "whatever he made you do, it wasn't your fault. You were a child. You still are a child. Your uncle was your guardian. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to keep you safe and teach you the things you need to know in life. He failed you, Hunter, but that's not your fault."
"I hurt people," Hunter whispers. "When I worked with him. I- I didn't stop him. I didn't even try."
"What would have happened, if you did?"
Hunter blinks at her. "I- I could have- Maybe-"
"What would have happened to you?" Camila emphasizes.
The flicker of terror that crosses Hunter's face tells her more than enough. She hates to see it.
"I could have tried," Hunter says quietly. "Other people tried. I could have done it too. My uncle- He would have been angry, but he- he wouldn't-" Hunter looks more like he's trying to convince himself than Camila, and it doesn't look like it's working. Slowly, his face falls.
"He would have killed me."
"Hunter, do you want a hug?" Camila asks, even though she knows the answer will most likely be no. She has to ask, she has to offer, she has to make sure that Hunter knows it's an option.
"What is that?" Hunter asks cautiously.
Camila can't help the way her eyes well up with tears. "A hug. An embrace. Un abrazo. It's when someone wraps their arms around someone else to comfort them or show that they care for them."
"I've seen Luz do that before," Hunter says. "Is it a tactical move?"
"No," Camila says, "it's... it's supposed to make a person feel better. They can make you feel safe."
"We're not safe," Hunter says, sounding sad and resigned. "We're stuck here, and when we go back, we don't know what will happen. Even if we manage to make everything okay again, I- I don't know- I worked with the Emperor. I helped him. I- I don't know if people would be angry or- No, of course they'd be angry, they'd have every right to be angry, so that means they might try to take that out on me, and I'm not saying I wouldn't deserve it, but-"
"You wouldn't deserve it," Camila interrupts. "You are sixteen. You are a child. You shouldn't have been any sort of soldier yet. You aren't to blame for the things your uncle forced you to do. And if the people of the Demon Realm can't understand that, then you can come back here and live with me."
That gets Hunter to snap up his head and actually look at her, for what might be the first time. "You- You'd let me stay with you?"
"Of course," Camila promises. "If you need me, I'll be here, mijo. I want to help all of you."
"But I- I don't-"
"You don't what?"
"I don't deserve it," Hunter whispers. "Not like the others do. They're good, they deserve-"
"Everyone deserves to be treated with compassion," Camila says. "And you're good too, Hunter. I can tell."
"I threatened Luz," Hunter blurts out. "When I worked with my uncle, I tried to capture her. I threatened her to get Amity to surrender to me. I- I'm not good. Not like the others. I don't deserve your kindness."
Camila takes a deep breath. She needs to handle this delicately. She's not going to pretend that she's thrilled to hear that this child in her house has threatened her daughter, but clearly, things have changed since then. She trusts Luz's judgment, and Luz trusts Hunter. If they've managed to come to some sort of understanding, then Camila won't come in between them. And no matter what Hunter says, Camila doesn't think he's bad, not really, not at his core. He may have been forced to do bad things, may have even done some himself without direct forcing because it was what he knew, but that doesn't make him a bad person.
She knows she needs to be careful how she explains this to Hunter, to be sure he understands.
"Has Luz told you what my job is?"
"She said you're an animal doctor," Hunter says cautiously, clearly suspicious of the non sequitur.
"That's right, I am," Camila agrees. "Do you like animals?"
Camila can practically see Hunter's urge to demand what this has to do with anything, but instead, he just nods once, stiffly.
"What if someone brought in a dog who had bitten someone else and told me it was a bad dog?"
"How much damage did the dog do?" Hunter asks. "Where did it bite? Who did it bite?"
"Let's say the dog bit a teenage girl," Camila says. "It did some damage, but nothing that couldn't be fixed."
"Oh," Hunter says, his face twisting a bit, "the dog is me, isn't it?"
"The dog used to live with someone who was cruel to it," Camila continues. "It was taught to fight, and it was rewarded for hurting people and punished for holding back. So the dog lashed out sometimes and hurt people, because that was what it had been taught. But the dog didn't want to hurt people, not really. And it wasn't beyond help. I've met many dogs like it, who have been rehabilitated successfully with some work."
"That's a dog, though," Hunter says. "The dog didn't know what it was doing when it bit. It didn't know it was bad. It thought it was good."
"When your uncle told you to do things, did you think they were bad or good?" Camila asks. "Luz told me about all of Belos's propaganda and all the lies he spread. She said most people believed him."
"He told me my family was killed by wild witches," Hunter whispers. "But I- I don't even-"
"He told you wild witches were dangerous," Camila says. "You thought you were doing the right thing."
"It didn't feel right sometimes," Hunter says. "When my uncle would break palismans, or when we would petrify people, or when we'd go on raids to attack groups of people who weren't doing anything bad- It felt wrong, but I did it anyway."
"The fact that you recognized at all that something was wrong means that you're strong and clever," Camila says. "Even if you couldn't do anything about it yet. Your uncle raised you. It's not surprising that you stuck with him. But when you knew he was doing the wrong thing, you did the right thing and left him."
"That's not why I left," Hunter whispers.
"Then why did you leave?"
Hunter swallows. Camila can see the bob of it. She can also see the way Hunter's hands are trembling in his lap, just a little.
"Because I found out his plans, and I knew too much, and my uncle would have killed me if he got his hands on me."
"You helped Luz and the others, didn't you? You fought against Belos?"
"I- I couldn't really fight him," Hunter admits. "Every time I even thought about it- I didn't fight him. I helped keep the others safe and out of his way as much as I could, but I couldn't do anything to him."
"You helped keep the others safe," Camila says. "That might not have been as active a role in the fight, but it was an important one. You were there. I'm sure you made a big difference."
"That doesn't make up for the things I did before."
"Then how will you make up for it?"
Hunter looks startled. "I- I didn't think I could."
"I'm not sure I think anyone is entirely beyond redemption," Camila says. "Some people are hard to reach, and some people will never take the steps they have to, but I think anyone can be better than they were the day before."
"How can I be better?" Hunter asks. "What can I do?"
"You're already doing it," Camila says. "You helped stop Belos. You helped protect Luz and the others. You helped save everyone in the Demon Realm, from how Luz put it. And you just need to keep doing that. Keep helping. When you all get back to the Demon Realm, I'm sure it'll be a mess. You can help clean it up. What your uncle made you do was wrong, but that doesn't mean you're wrong. It just means you need to keep trying to be right."
Hunter is quiet for a long, long moment. "I miss him," he finally whispers, his voice just barely audible. "I know I shouldn't. I know that's wrong. But I do."
"He was your uncle," Camila replies. "He was family. He wasn't good to you, but he was family, and you have every right to miss him."
"But he hurt so many people," Hunter whispers. "It's better that he's dead. I know it is. And I know he hurt me, and I know I'm probably better off now that I'm not with him, but…"
"But he was your uncle, and he raised you, and that was what you knew," Camila finishes. "That's all perfectly normal, Hunter. You have every right to feel that way. Even if you think it's better that he's dead, you can still mourn that he's gone."
"But isn't that a betrayal of everyone else?" Hunter asks. "After everything he did, isn't it wrong to miss him?"
"Family is complicated. There may be some people who would be mad if they saw you mourning your uncle, but that would just be because they didn't understand. Your friends wouldn't be mad."
"I don't want them to know," Hunter says quickly.
Camila is sure that Hunter thinks they'll be angry. She's equally sure they won't be, but it's not her place to butt in. "Okay, mijo," she says instead. "They won't hear anything from me."
"What does that mean?" Hunter asks. "Mijo?"
"It means 'my son,'" Camila translates. When Hunter's eyes go wide, she adds, "It can be used with family, but also with friends. It doesn't mean I have to be a mother figure for you."
"I never had a mother," Hunter says. Camila doubts that, but she doesn't say anything; she doesn't want to distress or derail Hunter when it's clearly hard for him to talk about these things. "I… I don't know what it's supposed to be like."
"Do you want to have a mother figure?" Camila asks before she can help it. She's not going to push, she swears she's not going to push, but she really doesn't think she's going to need to.
"Would you mind?" Hunter breathes, sounding like he barely dares to say it at all.
"Mijo," Camila says, adding just enough emphasis for the word to sound like a promise, "I wouldn't mind at all."
"C-Could I try a hug?"
Camila opens her arms, and Hunter collapses into them. He's shaking, and Camila thinks he's crying again, but this time, she thinks the tears might be more productive. She'd still rather Hunter not have to cry at all, but at least this time, she thinks it's better.
She knows this isn't enough to fix everything. She knows Hunter still needs to unlearn a lifetime of abuse and trauma responses. She knows there's more work to be done. But she also knows they're going in the right direction, and she knows she has a boy in her arms that she would help through anything.
She hears the door open, and from the way Hunter twitches in her embrace, she thinks he does too. But the footsteps tromping in clearly belong to Luz and her friends, and so neither of them bother to get up. Camila still won't tell the others about Hunter's feelings regarding his uncle, but she doesn't think there's any harm in them seeing this.
"Mom?" Luz calls quietly. "Are you guys here?"
"We're in the kitchen," Hunter calls back before Camila has a chance to say anything. She's glad to hear him say it; she'd been hoping he wouldn't avoid the others when they got back. He buries his face in the crook of Camila's neck for a moment, then slowly, he pulls away, just as the others enter the room.
"What are you two doing on the floor?" Luz asks. She holds out a hand to Camila, who accepts it gratefully and pulls herself up. Gus and Willow have already hauled Hunter to his feet before Camila can offer him a hand, and they're both eyeing him with a bit of wary concern.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Gus asks after a moment.
"Not really," Hunter says. "Not yet."
He shoots Camila a quick look, then ducks his head. Camila can't help but smile. If she's being entirely honest, she does think he should tell his friends, but she won't push, and the fact that he's leaving the door open gives her hope.
"Okay," Gus says. "Do you want me to distract you with facts about human cars?"
The question seems to Camila like it comes out of nowhere, but it must not to Hunter, because he doesn't blink an eye before he nods. Perhaps it's a routine the boys share. Gus seems prepared enough, as he immediately leads Hunter into the living room with a stream of facts about cars, the veracity of which seems to vary. Camila doesn't correct him. As long as he and Hunter are enjoying themselves, she thinks that's the most important.
Willow follows Hunter and Gus out into the living room fondly, but Luz lingers, and so Amity lingers with her too. "I wanna ask what he said," Luz tells Camila, "but I know you won't tell me, so I won't. But… Do you think he's okay?"
Camila is fairly certain Hunter wouldn't want her to tell Luz how much he's hurting, so she doesn't. "He will be okay," she says instead. "And we're here for him, if he needs us."
"He's strong," Amity says, leaning on Luz's shoulder. "He'll be okay."
Camila remembers what Hunter said about threatening Luz to get to Amity, and she feels a rush of fondness for this girl who loves her daughter so much, who has found it in herself to forgive Hunter because she knows he was only doing what he felt he had to do. She'll be proud to call Amity her daughter, whenever she and Luz reach a point where they're comfortable with that.
"Luz!" Gus calls suddenly. "Tell Willow that I'm right and human cars are powered by explosions!"
Luz laughs as she heads into the living room, dragging Amity along with her. "Well, kind of, but that's a bit of an oversimplification…"
Camila stands in the doorway and watches fondly as Luz vaguely explains what an internal combustion engine is and the others all watch her with expressions that range from fascinated to mildly horrified. Hunter is wedged between Gus and Willow on the couch, and while he's not quite smiling, his face looks relaxed. He looks happy.
Camila vows that she'll do her best to make sure he stays that way.