Note: This fic is also posted on archive of our own under the same username.
I just had to jump on board the Encanto train. To be fair, it's the first Disney movie I've enjoyed to this extent in a long time.
warning: blood, violence, injury...
Camilo stretches his legs out in front of him, tipping his head back to catch the sun on his face.
He's bored, plain and simple, and since he's already exasperated Abuela to the point that she's sent him packing to the village to find some other means of amusement, well… he'll have to make do.
Which is why he now finds himself perched on a rooftop on the lookout for mischief.
He spies Valentina Escarra in the plaza below and perks up.
Dolores had overheard some of the things she'd said to and about Mirabel and, well… family sticks together and all that, right?
Now's his chance to get even and have a little fun while he's at it.
All on behalf of his favorite cousin.
She's speaking to her older brother, pressed close to his side. They're speaking to each other, but he's not Dolores so he can't hear the subject of their conversation, nor does he particularly care.
Camilo watches and waits, until Angelo has left her.
Then he slides off the roof, using a stack of crates to catch his fall, and bounces into the alley out of sight.
He's changed shape before he's even hit the ground, straightening a good head taller than he'd been before, and stepping out to meet her.
"Heya, sis!" He bounces up behind her, touching her elbow to catch her attention. "What's up?"
Valentina spins around, the blood draining from her face.
"Angelo? But you… you…" She turns, eyes scanning the crowd for her brother, but he's already gone. "You were just… I saw you."
"I what?" He scratches his head and squints at her, pretending to be confused and concerned all at once. "Valentina, are you sure you're okay?"
"What? I don't… understand…" She's backing away from him now, face twisted in confusion. "You were just…"
"What's there to understand, sis?" He grins mischievously. He's laying it on thick, he knows, and he has to be careful so she doesn't see through the ruse right away.
Her expression hardens. "You're not my brother."
Mierda. That was fast.
He drops the charade, quickly shifting back to himself. "Lucky guess."
He's almost disappointed, but then his intention was never to keep this going long-term.
A couple bystanders laughed, surprised by his sudden appearance. One of them even slaps him on the back.
Under normal circumstances, he'd bask in their attention.
These are not normal circumstances.
He has a point he needs to make abundantly clear: Mirabel might not be Gifted like the rest of them, but she still has awesome cousins looking out for her.
"Remember," he cups a hand to his ear, "my sister hears everything."
Her face goes bright red and he knows she knows what he's talking about.
For an instant, he thinks she might be tempted to slap him, but instead she spins around with a huff and storms off, leaving Camilo satisfied that she got the message.
Mirabel is off limits.
He ducks under an arm, weaves his way around several different people, changing into several different people, and into an alley.
He's already considering how he's going to spin this when he gets back to the Casita, maybe milk it for an extra helping of his tía's arepa.
Someone catches his arm.
Camilo spins around and finds himself face to face with a wild-eyed man.
"Uh…" He frowns. He'd been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even realized he wasn't alone until now. "Can I help you?" He spins, changing shape and dipping dramatically into a bow.
He's normally not the first Madrigal people seek out when they need help- that's Luisa or his Tía Julieta.
But the man doesn't ask for help.
"You're not normal," he snarls, a surprising amount of venom in his words.
"No?" Camilo reverts back to himself. "I thought that was… pretty much a given?"
The man doesn't seem mollified though.
If anything, he just seems to get angrier.
"That's what you are." The man drives his fist into his stomach, punching the air out of his lungs. "You're a demon. An abomination!"
Camilo stumbles back into the wall, wrapping his arms around his middle. He lifts his head, staring at the man in shock.
Where did this come from? He doesn't think he's ever done anything to make someone truly hate him enough for… for this.
The man steps back and that's when Camilo sees what's actually in his hand.
A knife.
Oh.
Oh.
He goes wobbly in the knees, hands coming away bloody from his ruana.
Strangely enough, he doesn't feel any pain when he slides to the ground. He always thought being stabbed was something that would hurt. Not that he spent a lot of time thinking about that in the first place.
Before he can hit the ground, the man catches his ruana, jerking him forward.
Now he feels the pain and he cries out, throwing his arms out to defend himself.
Instead, his cousin is there, coming out of nowhere, and ripping the man away from him with a furious roar.
Camilo falls to the ground, struggling to comprehend what he's seeing.
Luisa has the assailant pinned against the brick wall. Her shoulders are heaving, face twisted in anger like he's never seen from her before and it hits him just how scary she is in that moment.
And maybe Camilo has always known what Luisa's Gift was capable of, but this is so far removed from the sweet and gentle cousin he knows that it feels like he's looking at someone else entirely.
"Luisa," he whispers.
"Camilo!" Dolores drops to his side and suddenly his cousin's presence makes so much more sense.
His sister must have heard everything and come running.
"Dolores…" He tries to pick himself up, only to cry out when his side flares in protest.
"Don't move." She stops him from any further attempts with a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get you to Tía, alright? Luisa?"
Luisa casts the assailant aside- and he won't be getting far, not with the crowd their little commotion has gathered and his knife lying uselessly out of reach- and joins her at Camilo's side.
"He's a demon! I'm telling you! All of them!" the man continues to shout, even as he's dragged to his feet and led away.
Luisa's expression tightens, but she doesn't let it distract her.
"What do we do?" She looks at Dolores.
"Get him to Tía of course!"
"But what if moving him makes it worse?"
"Well, we don't have a choice!"
"Guys!" Camilo interrupts them. "Please." His voice breaks, just a little.
Dolores and Luisa exchange a glance.
She scoops him into her arms and he winces, gritting his teeth so he doesn't make a sound- no matter how gentle she's trying to be, she can't help irritating his side.
She notices his flinch and cringes. "I'm sorry!"
"S'fine," he grunts. "Just… please, I want…" He wants to go home.
More than that, he wants his mother.
/
Pepa paces frantically, tugging at her hair, while a storm cloud hovers over her head.
"Pepa." Félix takes her elbow and guides her to a chair. "Take a deep breath with me. In and out." He pantomimes the motions with his arms. "He's going to be fine."
"I can't. I need to be with him." Pepa latches onto his wrists, hyperventilating. "I can't. He's…"
"...going to be fine," Félix reiterates gently, ignoring the rain and pulling her close. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder and he strokes her hair.
"I don't understand. Who would do this? Who would hurt him?" She's shaking, hands reaching to tug her braid again.
"Camilo is going to be fine, Pepa." Julieta puts a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. "He's got some of my food in him. Now he just needs a little rest."
"See?"
Pepa gets up shakily, still searching her sister's face for any sign that this might be a lie.
Julieta smiles, nodding her encouragement once before Pepa is hurrying into the next room, her husband at her heels.
Camilo is sitting upright on the coach, a blanket draped over his legs.
The cloud over her head dissipates and she goes a little weak in the knees, pressing a hand to her heart.
He's alive…
Félix steadies her.
"Careful, amor," he whispers, voice thick with emotion.
/
"Hey, Mamí." He smiles at her weakly, raising a hand in greeting. His brows furrow when he sees the state both his parents are in. "You're both wet."
She must have had another storm, he thinks. His chest tightens and he bites his lip, fisting his hands underneath the blankets.
With a cry, his mother rushes to him.
"Oof!" He grunts when she collides with him, throwing her arms around his neck, but he doesn't try to wiggle out of the embrace.
Not with his mother so distraught.
"I'm okay," he reassures her, patting her head. "Mamí, it's okay."
And now he's feeling all choked up.
What if he had died and never seen her again? Seen either of them again?
"Yes, we are very glad to hear it." Félix slides his arms around both of them and hugs them tightly. "You worried us terribly, mijo."
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"Don't be sorry!" Pepa hugs him tighter. "It's that… that hijo de puta who should be sorry!"
Camilo doesn't say anything to that, just hides his face against her neck and latches onto her like he's afraid to let go.
"Mijo," Pepa pulls away from him, cupping his face in her hands, "you're crying."
"I thought everyone loved us," he hiccups, wiping at his eyes. "I thought…" He stops himself.
Is that actually what he thought? Or, in some corner of his mind, did he always know there would be someone out there who didn't? Someone who didn't take well to their Gifts. Who despised them for it.
His father rubs his shoulders, working in soothing circles. "There are always going to be people afraid of what they don't understand, mijo," he says gently. His voice gets harder. "And sometimes they do horrible, horrible things because of it." He takes a deep breath, composing himself before he continues. "It doesn't mean anything about you." He takes Camilo's chin between his fingers and looks him in the eyes. "Because you… you are a beautiful and brave boy who loves his family and looks out for his cousins and you have a wonderful gift. If someone cannot see that, if someone chooses violence because they cannot see that… you are not responsible for that at all."
Camilo gives him a wobbly smile, blinking back a fresh bout of tears. "Thanks, Papá," he whispers, rubbing his eyes.
A small cough catches his attention and he lifts his head, spying Antonio peeking around the corner tentatively.
When he realizes he's been spotted, he ducks his head out of sight with a gasp. A small squeak from just out of sight indicates that his sister is there too.
Camilo sniffs, lifting his head from Pepa's shoulder. "Tonio? Dolores?"
Félix extends his arm, beckoning. "Come in, both of you, your brother wants to see you."
Antonio comes creeping around the corner, followed closely by Dolores.
"We were worried," Dolores says, averting her eyes, though she does cast one guilty glance Camilo's way.
Antonio looks uncertainly towards their father.
Once he realizes he's not in trouble, he practically flies across the room, arms open, colliding full tilt with his family. Dolores hurries behind him, dropping on the couch beside her mother and brother and wrapping her arms around them both.
"I knew you wouldn't die." Antonio tries to be brave, but his smile is watery.
"Of course I wasn't gonna die." Camilo puts on his own brave face- he's the older brother after all- and likes to think he succeeded more than his little brother did. He grins fiercely, feeling the rush of false bravado.
Dolores tweaks his ear and Camilo yelps, ducking his head and shielding his offended ear. He shoots her a wounded glare. "Ow, what was that for?"
Her lips are pinched, eyes wide, but she manages her expression into a smirk. It's forced and it feels wrong but neither one of them are going to be acknowledging that. "I hope you don't plan on making me rescue you again," she teases.
Camilo wrinkles his nose in disgust at the very thought. "Absolutely not."
Something sobers him up immediately afterwards. His sister's hearing is very likely the reason he's still alive right now… If she hadn't heard him, if she hadn't been in the area with Luisa… things would have taken a very different turn.
He owes her a lot.
When he opens his mouth to thank her, he can see in her eyes that she knows all this, and his jaw clicks shut.
She gives him a tight-lipped smile, squeezing his hand.
He squeezes back.