Credit to this story prompt/s goes to Sorahana97, Mozarts Fantasy (MozartsFantasy), skyblxssom, Hello_fandoms on AO3!

Bruno wasn't a morning person by any stretch of the means and it was a common occurrence for him to sleep through breakfast, when he did sleep that is. He rather enjoyed staying up late. There was so much about the night that was astoundingly beautiful. It was quiet, not silent but quiet and it was like a gentle blanket that dulled the noise of the world. It was relaxing. He often went for walks at night to get away from the lights in town. It made the stars so much easier to see and there were so many. A delicate nexus of pure light that was different from anything else. In Bruno's opinion starlight was one of the most beautiful things the world had been blessed with. So distant and so fragile seeming. It was a cold light, gentle and calming as they flickered and danced amidst the blackness around them. They were more than stars and more than that soft cold light that Bruno loved so much. Each one of them stood out as beacons in the void. It reminded him that, no matter how empty and harsh a place may seem life can still thrive.

His favorite place to go was the lake, more of a pond really, and just sit on the shore. On a still night it was like looking into a deep lack mirror, like the stars entwined the pool. It was as if the heavens themselves had fallen and dared to touch the earth, tainted though it may be. The skies shared their magic with anyone who could see and Bruno could see. In fact the stars were his favorite things to see through. The best things about them was the lack of visions. There were times where he could see things, messages almost, in the stars but they were vague and faint just like the cold light flickering above him. The stars were kind and never showed him bad things but the stars could not hide the secrets of others. He knew a great deal more about people than anyone knew so, when he was unsure of himself, he came to this lake. This black mirror lake.

Sometimes he'd look into the lake instead of the sky. Somehow the message could be interpreted differently that way. He'd skip a rock and watch destinies change or find a stagnant soul. He wished he could find those people. He wished they would listen to him when all he wanted to do was help them get passed whatever kept their soul from flowing the way that it should. A soul left idle could die so quickly and leave behind a shell of a person until someone came to reignite that lost flame, lost passion. It was such a burden, his gift. It just wasn't something he could escape. It seemed like everywhere he looked there was some sort of future that flickered in his gaze, or filling his head until he burst. The stars weren't like that. They were soft and didn't demand to be seen. It was a huge comfort and he imagined that that one lake was a blessing put there just for him. It was his place and the only reason he'd ever gone beyond the walls of Casita during the past decade.

What wasn't a blessing were the mosquitoes. He didn't care about bugs overall but the mosquitoes were another thing entirely. They bite, they swarm and hover, they buzzed in his ear, and the bites itched. It didn't see right to take some of Julieta's healing food just for a few bug bites. He'd be snatching up food left and right if that became the case. Apparently the mosquitoes thought he was delicious.

"Well, at least I know someone likes me." He thought to himself as he scratched at his shoulder.

They had been out in full force the other night but he hadn't regretted sitting by that lake, breathing deep, and relaxing. He didn't get the opportunity to relax very often and he knew that that was his own fault. His anxiety wasn't anyone else's fault and no one was to blame for any of it. It was just something he needed to try and muscle his way through. He was a Madrigal after all and the Madrigal's were strong, or they were supposed to be strong and Bruno did not see himself as a strong person so he continued to keep to himself. He was more than happy to sit by and watch the festivities, telling Frida about it all from where she had curled up beneath his ruana. He wasn't sure how the lards groups of people might react to him carrying around a large rat. Folks didn't exactly like rats and he was worried that she might get hurt.

He was also worried that he might get hurt. It had happened before. He'd just walked back up to his tower after grabbing an empanada to bring relief from whatever someone who was angry at a prophecy had done to him. He'd never told his family how bad things could get with people. It seemed pointless. It's not like he'd be allowed to stop using his gift and giving prophecies no matter how much he longed for it. It was written in the stars he'd joke to himself but when no one was looking he grieved for the days before he'd been cursed. He wished he had appreciated those days more.

He shook his head, sat up, stretched, and gave a groan as his back popped. He'd been out here long enough, he decided. It was time to head home. He would grab a book and lay on the couch until the rest of the family woke up. He didn't feel like sleeping tonight. He scratched at his chest from mosquito bites and gave a sigh. It wouldn't last long anyway. It was just annoying.

He took his time making his way back to Casita. It's not like he had anything to worry about. Everyone else was in bed and he was alone. The house flipped its' tiles in greeting as he walked through the doors and he smiled back. He settled himself on the couch, propping his head up with a pillow, and opening the book. He'd decided to grab La Vorágine. He'd read it a few times already but it was a good story so why wouldn't he read it again?

He laid there reading until sunrise and people began emerging from their rooms. His sobrina Julieta was always the first one awake in order to have breakfast ready for everyone when they woke up as well. He tilted his head backward to hang over the arm of the couch and saw her sleepily making her way down the stairs, still rubbing at her eyes. Bruno grinned. No matter how old the person may be it was still cute when they did that. It reminded him of when they were kids and he'd rub his balled up hands over his eyes as he woke. It was either to wipe away the sleep or try and scrub away the wakefulness he didn't know. She made her way straight into the kitchen where he heard Casitsa's tiles clicking along with the clanking of dishes as the house made her a cup of coffee, same any other day. He hummed and turned back to his book.

"Bruno?" The book almost went flying across the room. "Casita made two. I'm assuming this is for you." She said, holding out a cup while Casita clacked its' tiles in confirmation.

"Oh." He said as he sat up and took the cup from her hands. "Gracias hermana." He took a delicate sip of the hot beverage and sighed at the warmth settling in his stomach.

"Did you get any rest at all?" Julieta asked in her, as Bruno liked to put it, healer's voice.

"Yes."

"Oh Dios mío." She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Sleep? I meant sleep. Did you sleep?"

Knowing he was about to get in trouble, he just nodded before taking another tentative sip of the hot drink.

"Brunito." She rubbed at her face.

"Sometimes I just can't sleep." He shrugged.

"Can't or won't?" She raised a brow.

"You know, people are going to be waking up soon." He said as he stood. "Do you want any help today?" He offered.

"That would be great actually." She sighed and turned to walk into the kitchen and Bruno followed.

Out of the triplets he was the only one who could come closest to Julieta's cooking skills. Breakfast went off without a hitch, not a single thing burned or rushed. With two people working on it, the task was less difficult and was done faster than either of them had expected. Of course, during the process of putting together a meal which consisted of a beautiful selection of huevos pericos, pan de yuca, changua, and avena colombiana. It smelled so good but Julieta certainly hadn't forgotten Bruno's penchant for "taste testing" as he put it. Julieta called it stealing. One consequence of helping her cook was feeling the wrath of a wooden spoon on the back of his hand. It made them both laugh though and, for a few hours, it was like he'd never left. We'll he'd technically never left but it still held the same effect as if he had just walked out of the Encanto entirely.

He'd done what he thought was best for the family and it was as simple as that.

"I'd come in to say hello but I can see a lot of sharp objects in there." Agustin's voice sounded out from the doorway.

Bruno, easily startled as ever, yelped and launched a handful of dough in the air where it promptly stuck to the ceiling. He just stared up at it silently while Julieta tried her hardest not to laugh.

"Sorry." Agustin chuckled.

"I'm going to put bells on all of you." Bruno muttered, still staring at the dough clinging to the ceiling above him.

"Well it's already ruined so." She grabbed a nearby broom to try and peel the clump of dough off the ceiling and, upon sight of the broom, Bruno's eyes grew wide as he took a few steps back.

"I-is t-that the-the same broom we ha-had before we rebuilt Casita?"

"Well of course. Julieta answered. "Not everything was destroyed when-"

Bruno suddenly snatched the broom and launched it out the window before knocking on the counter and throwing a handful of salt over his shoulder.

"Bruno!" Agustin and Julieta started, ready to reprimand him but stopped when he turned to them with a wild glint in his eyes.

"You can't bring an old broom into a new house!" He gestured wildly with his arms. "It's bad luck!" He threw another handful of salt over his shoulder. "We have to get a new broom." He whispered in horror hands shaking by his sides.

"I'm sure Julieta can handle the rest of this." Agustin said as he put as arm around Bruno's trembling shoulders. "Why don't we just take these," He picked up the cup of coffee Casita had bounced their way along with Bruno's own half empty cup. "and go into the living room. I've been wanting to catch up with you."

Ducking his head in embarrassment at the scene he'd just made he followed along. They didn't understand. He had to keep the bad luck away. He had to! If he didn't then...then...otherwise something terrible would happen and it would be all his fault. He just didn't think he could bear that kind of burden. Whatever it took, he'd keep the bad luck away. He had to protect his family.

"Bruno are you listening to me?" Agustin said, brows creased.

"I have no idea what you just said so, I'm going to say no."

For some reason that brought a laugh out of the man.

"You always carry around Frida."

"Well….yeah I mean-"

"She's blind, I know. I'm just wondering how all that came about. She's obviously your favorite."

"Shhhh!" Bruno exclaimed. "The others will hear you and it'll hurt their feelings."

Agustin laughed again.

"I'm serious." Bruno leveled him with a flat look.

"She really is a gorgeous animal." Agustin shrugged. "Just don't tell Pepa I said that." He whispered with a small smile. "I was wondering if maybe I could hold her?" He asked, suddenly unsure of the question.

Well, Bruno couldn't disagree with that. She was a solid colour that seemed a blend between silver and blue. Her fur was the softest out of all the rats although Fresco was a close second as he was a very neat and clean rat that had very strict grooming routines. He didn't hang onto Bruno all the time though so his fur was a little courser than Frida's.

Upon hearing her name the rat in question wriggled her way out of Bruno's collar and immediately stuck her cold nose in his ear.

"No hagas eso tu nariz esta fria se siente rara." He said as he pulled her off of his shoulder and held her up to eye level. "¿Qué amde crees que fue una buena idea? ¿O solo estabas tratando de molestarme de nuevo?"

Agustin couldn't help but laugh again and Bruno rolled his eyes.

"¿Qué piensas?" He asked Frida who, without hesitation, turned around and leaped out of Bruno's hands.

Bruno gave a shout as he scrambled to catch her before she hit the table. He glared at her. "Para de hacer eso." He gasped, out of breath from the scare she'd just given him.

Agustin had also leaped forward to grab the overly confident rat and also gave a sigh of relief.

"She does that a lot?"

"Yes." Bruno responded through gritted teeth. "Well, she's obviously fine with it so-" He delicately placed her into Agustin's hands. "Don't be surprised if she crawls under your shirt." Bruno warned as he leaned back in his seat, suddenly struck with a headache.

He rubbed at his temples, barely listening to Agustin coo at the rodent in his hands and she sniffled his palms. As the family began to emerge from their rooms the noise only made his headache even worse. Frida squeaked in concern before crawling down Agustin's leg and into Bruno's lap, nuzzling into his belly.

"Estoy bien, no te preocupes tanto. tienes la mala costumbre de estresarte demasiado." He said, gently petting the rat in his lap.

As the morning sun began to shine down into the house Bruno squinted his eyes shut. The light only made his headache even worse.

"Are you okay?" Agustin asked quietly.

"Yeah, I just didn't get any sleep last night." He rubbed his eyes. "I-I think I'm just going to go to bed." He was genuinely tired now. "Lo siento. Enjoy breakfast. I-I'm not really very hungry anyway." He waved off his cuñado as he stood and walked up the stairs, Frida perched on his shoulder and affectionately pawing at his scalp again.

He was tired, dear god he was so tired. Maybe he should've at least tried to sleep last night. The headache formed into a blinding pain and his hands shook as he made his way to his bedroom on wobbly legs that he couldn't seem to get to move like they should. He fumbled with the doorknob a little. Fingers refusing to grip the metal tightly enough. He stumbled his way through the door and managed to close it only moments before he collapsed to the floor, out of breath, and retched. His stomach was empty but bile dripped from his lips and into the sand beneath him. He took a moment to breath and groaned. He felt too hot. He shed his ruana, vest, and shirt as he staggered his way to bed and flopped face first onto it.

He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He woke up to a churning in his gut and barely managed to drag a bucket over before he gagged, stomach clenching painfully to expel food that wasn't there. Saliva dripped down his chin as he gasped and retched again, the bitter taste of bile bubbling in the back of his, now sore, throat.

"Maldición." He grumbled. "I'm actually sick." He groaned. "Just the flu." He assured himself. After all, he'd gotten sick plenty of times over the past decade, including a rather miserable bout of pneumonia.

Oh, he was so tired and his bed felt so nice and everything hurt and he felt so hot. He was glad he didn't have a cough at least. A cough and sore throat was not a good combination.

"A quien le importa." He mumbled as he rolled over, wiping his sweaty hair out of his face. "I'm going back to sleep."

Frida squeaked at him insistently but he paid her no mind and drifted back off into a dreamless sleep. Whenever he got sick his symptoms would usually ease up later into the day. So, the more sleep he got now the better he'd feel later.

At breakfast Agustin had been kind enough to explain Bruno's absence and Julieta confirmed the fact that her hermanito had not slept at all the night before. So, Alma set down a strict rule for the day that no one was to bother Bruno. He'd come down once he'd rested enough

Upstairs Bruno jolted awake, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His breath came in desperate wheezing gasps as his rats scrambled out of the room. His eyes shone bright emerald and he couldn't catch his breath no matter how he tried. It was like someone squeezing his lungs from the inside. Everything in the room whirled and spun in a tornado of sand more violent than any vision before this. His body shook and his head bobbed up and down as he sat and he couldn't stop the odd jerking motions that only served to make his headache worse. His neck ached, his back ached, and...and...where was he? What was happening? He tried to steady his bobbing head, his jaw opening and closing of it's volition even as he tried to make a sound, any kind of sound at all but his throat felt too sore.

There were images within the green cyclone but there were so many and they flickered by so fast. They showed people and places that he didn't know. They showed his family and the people in town. They showed storms and earthquakes. Elegant affairs, weddings, parties, and all sorts of gatherings flashed and intermingled and he was seeing at all together. All at the same time and it was so much, it was too much. It was too much.

Too much! Too much! Too much!

He grabbed his hair, fingernails leaving bloody streaks on his scalp, and pulled hard. He screamed. He screamed despite the pain of his throat. He screamed despite the pounding in his head. He screamed and howled and wailed in agony and terror begging for it to stop.

"Please, please, please!" He cried, tears streaming down his face. "Please stop! Stop! Please! Please! Make it Stop!"

Suddenly it did and, to his shock, glass tablets dropped and shattered all over his room. There had to be at least twenty. His tongue felt like cotton. Wh-what was happening? Green glass shards were everywhere. Where was he? What was he doing here? His face felt wet. Why was his face wet. He lifted a trembling hand to wipe at the tears on his face. No, that-that wasn't it. He could taste the wetness on his tongue. He moved his hand to touch his lips and his fingers came away red. He-he was bleeding? Why was he bleeding?

He looked around dazedly. There was a bed. A bed felt nice. He hurt so much. His stomach cramped and he vomited onto the floor. What was going on? Everything hurt. Oh it hurt so much. He-he just needed to get to the bed. Yes, yes that would be perfect. Something was digging in his hair and he smacked it away. What even was that? Bed. Bed. Yes, bed. He couldn't seem to get to his feet. His arms wouldn't do what he told him to do. Slowly he managed his way over to the bed and, with great effort, pulled himself onto it.

Sleep. He needed sleep. He was so tired. So, so tired. His eyes drifted shut.

Anyone up for a guess as to:

A-What got him sick

and

B-what was he sick with