Here is the second part of my Encanto series. The first story was Who Am I Now? I suppose this could be read without reading that, but a lot of context is built up in the first part. I hope you all enjoy the story. It's a rough one, though.

Thanks to NPI, who helped with all the Spanish. If you like Penguins of Madagascar, go and check out NPI's story 'Seven.'

"¡Adios! And thank you!" Mirabel called to the stragglers then shut the door.

Bruno watched her beaming face, hiding himself in the shadows. He'd been off to the side since the family picture. While it was nice to be included in the family again, he wished it hadn't been so public. But then again, their family had been in the public eye for pretty much his entire life. Still, he was glad the party was over. Another hour or two, and he could go off and be alone. He was trying to fight off the brooding that was inevitable. For the family, of course. Always for the family.

Mirabel hummed to herself as she skipped into the middle of the courtyard. Then she knelt down to touch the floors. "How are you, Casita?" she asked fondly.

The tiles rippled in response, and she laughed as Casita lifted her up in a wave of motion.

"I'm glad you're back, too. We thought for sure that the magic was gone." She looked up at the candle and smiled. "But we were wrong."

'No. The feeling was wrong. It lied to me. For the first time, it lied to me,' Bruno thought bitterly. He wrung his hands together and watched Mirabel stand. Then Casita shifted near Bruno, and Mirabel looked up and caught sight of her uncle.

"¿Tío?" she asked, surprised. "What are you doing?"

Bruno shifted backward, his anxiety spiking. His heart beat faster at the unwanted attention, and he quickly moved to a doorframe. "Knock knock, knock knock knock, knock on wood," he murmured, tapping on the wood then his head. The knot in his stomach eased and he exhaled in relief. But there was still a smidge of discomfort, so he reached into his ruana and grabbed some salt from an inner pocket. He noticed he needed more, and made a mental note to go to the kitchen for a refill. He threw it over his shoulder then brushed his hands on his ruana.

"Better," he murmured to himself as the anxiety relaxed its grip on him. "So much better." Then he looked back at Mirabel, who was studying him. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Hungry," Bruno muttered. 'It lied to me! Why? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?'

At that moment, Julieta came to the door of the dining room. "Dinner is served!" she announced happily.

"Good thing you're hungry," Mirabel said.

Bruno gave a wane smile and walked into the dining room. He approached to see that Alma had painted new, individualized plates for each member of the family. He hesitated then walked over to find his plate. His very own plate. His had broken long ago, which was why he'd clumsily painted a copy on the small table he'd set up to be near his family at dinner time. A smile touched his lips as he stared at the hand painted plate. He was home.

'Yeah. And I have everything that comes with it, too.'

The smile faded from Bruno's face at the thought.

"¿Tío Bruno?" Camilo asked from beside him. "You okay?"

Bruno flinched back and hunched over, automatically trying to make himself small and nonthreatening. His hands wrung together as they so often did, betraying his nerves. "Fine," he muttered. "Just fine."

But he was compelled to do his knocking ritual again as he sat down, muttering his chant under his breath. His eyes flickered upward and he caught sight of the faces around him, ranging from bewildered to amused at his oddity.

'Back home. I'm back home. It's going to happen again.'

More salt went over his shoulder and he hunched in his chair as dinner began. The full, hot dishes were passed around, and Bruno heaped his plate. His rats weren't the only ones that were always hungry. He had been half starved for nearly ten years, never daring to steal too much lest the family discover that he was still there. It was with great relish that he began to eat. Julieta's cooking had only improved in the past ten years, and he wasted no time digging in as he listened to the family gush over the delight of having their gifts back.

"Just think of all I can try now!" Isabela said excitedly to Mirabel.

"Well, let's keep the carnivorous ones away from people," Mirabel teased.

"You can make carnivorous plants?" Camilo asked, his face lighting up.

"Yep. So you'd better watch it now, Camilo," she said sweetly.

Camilo rolled his eyes then shapeshifted into a perfect copy of Isabela. "Better watch it Camilo," he taunted in the same sweet tone. "Cuz I'm going to make my plants eat you like the dainty princesa I am."

Isabela gave him a look then flipped her hand palm up. A spikey yellow plant appeared, nestled in her hand. Camilo shapeshifted back to himself and leaned forward. "What is that? Hey!" He fell out of his chair as the plant snapped at his face. "No fair! Luisa! ¡Ayúdame!"

Luisa laughed. "I'm staying out of this one," she said. "Don't want to get eaten."

"Isabela, Camilo, please," Alma said, and they both stopped. The plant faded and Camilo muttered under his breath.

"They're just glad they have their gifts back, abuela," Mirabel said.

Alma smiled. "I am, too. But the dinner table is not the place to show them off."

Camilo rolled his eyes, shifting his face into Isabela's when Alma was focused on Mirabel. Bruno saw a flash of green beside Camilo's chair and Camilo started and his face turned red as he winced. He snickered into his food. He'd missed this.

'But not all of it.'

The smile disappeared again as he swallowed the suddenly tasteless food. Why did the gifts have to come back? He was happy for his family, but as usual that twisted into unhappiness toward himself. He loved their gifts. They should be celebrated. But he had accepted long ago that he did not have a gift like the rest of the family. He had a curse. And whenever he used it, it cursed those around him. So for him to have his magic back was not a cause for celebration. Who wanted to celebrate a curse like him?

It seemed to take forever before the family started heading to bed. Bruno lingered in the courtyard, dreading the thought of going to his room. So he took the time to stroll around Casita. He relished being unafraid to be in the open, striding through the rooms as a member of the family instead of hiding and slinking around like a common thief. He began to murmur, like he used to when the family was gone and it was just him and Casita.

"Really is nice. Your tiles are so clean today," he muttered, running his hand along the wall. Casita shifted and settled like a sigh. Bruno smiled. "Yeah. I've missed you. Other stuff… not really, but you? You're so good, so nice to me. You take care of me. Always have. Gracias, Casita."

"What are you doing?"

Bruno jumped and turned to see Mirabel. He flinched back and hunched over, his hands automatically coming together. "Talking to Casita," he said. "I know it's a bit weird, but…" He trailed off. He was always weird. He had no excuse. He looked down and wilted. What would she say now?

"Eh, I talk to Casita, too," Mirabel said, waving her hand dismissively. "But it's getting late and you should be in bed." She paused. "Unless something's wrong?"

Bruno was shaking his head before she was done talking. "Nah. Nothing's wrong. Just… wanted to walk around for a while."

She looked unconvinced. "You've helped everybody, tío. If you need some help…"

"I'm fine, Mirabel!" Bruno snapped before he could stop himself. He took a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. We've been working forever. I need some sleep."

Mirabel stared at him. "Then you should rest, tío."

Bruno nodded then walked with Mirabel up the stairs to her brand new room. She stared at the door, marked with a piece of each of her family members, and smiled. Casita opened the door for her, and Bruno peeked in, unable to help himself. It was a bright, airy room filled with crafting supplies and all the material she'd need. He grinned.

"Nice room."

"A touch of magic was all it needed," she said. "Plus it's nice to be out of the nursery."

"Hey, you're only fifteen. Still a baby."

"Hey!" Mirabel punched his shoulder, and he flinched but smiled.

"Sorry. Just kidding." He stood there awkwardly for a moment. She had offered to help…

"Well, goodnight, tío."

No, he decided. She wouldn't be able to. She didn't deserve his problems.

"Goodnight, Mira."

She closed her door and he stood there, anxiously wringing his hands. Then he turned and slowly ambled down the hall toward his room. He took as long as possible, but it was still too soon that he reached the passageway. A ball of anxiety filled him, but his knocking ritual didn't alleviate it. Three times he did it on the railing, but the anxiety didn't go away. So he took a step up. Then another. He couldn't put it off forever. He knew that. But when he saw his door, he stopped and glared at it.

He hated that door. He hated what it represented. The curse that had only grown stronger as the years passed was etched into the wood in glowing paint. The door symbolized everything that was wrong with him, everything that had ultimately driven him away.

Creepy old Bruno!

My gift is different than your gift! It's useful!

I don't understand! I thought you liked me, tío!

He can make good futures happen, but he prefers to use his gift for bad things.

I just feel protective over my daughter! Isn't that natural?

Keep your stupid gift to yourself from now on!

That monstruo loco doesn't deserve one.

I expect you not to curse people!

Bruno glared at his door, fighting back tears. His so-called gift had done nothing but make trouble for everybody. He didn't want it back. He didn't want to use it ever again. And he made a choice.

"I will never use it again," he hissed. "I will never curse another person."

There was a moment where the glow burned brighter. Then, as if the candle had heard him, the golden outline of him flickered and dimmed into darkness. For a moment, he was stunned. Then he smiled with relief. The magic wasn't going to fight him! Casita had listened to him!

"Gracias, Casita," he murmured fervently. "Gracias, gracias, gracias…"

With one last pleased look at the grey outline, he opened his door and stepped into his dark room. Casita flipped on a lamp for him, and he walked over to his bed and fell on it without even undressing. His eyes were heavy, but his heart was light. He wouldn't have to curse anybody from then on. His "gift" would never hurt anybody again. And he was here, in his room, back with his family, and lying in a real bed instead of huddling in his chair and trying to stay warm. Life was good. His eyes slid closed and he fell into a deep sleep right on top of the blankets.

A loud, insistent pounding startled him awake what seemed like minutes later, and he sat up, his heart hammering as the pounding continued.

"¡Bruno!" Mirabel shouted. "¡Tío Bruno!"

Panicked and half asleep, he staggered to his feet and bolted for the door. Something awful must have happened! He flung the door open to see Mirabel looking frightened. She wasn't alone. He could see the entire family had gathered in his little stairwell, and they looked terrified.

"What?" Bruno asked frantically. "What happened?"

But their expressions were morphing into relief even as he spoke. He gazed at them, his heartbeat still pounding in his ears as they all slumped and relaxed. Alma squeezed past Mirabel and grabbed Bruno's face like she used to when he was younger.

"¿Mamá?" Bruno asked uneasily.

"Are you alright, Brunito?" Alma asked seriously.

"Well… yeah," he said. "Except for the scare, I mean. Why? What's wrong? Why are you all… here?"

They all backed up at a gesture from Alma, and she pulled Bruno out then shut his door. Bruno was unsure what was wrong. He stared blankly at his door. Nothing seemed to be wrong. It looked exactly the same as last night. Before he could ask, Mirabel spoke.

"It's okay, abuela. He's still here. That's the important thing."

"Then why is it dark?" Alma fretted. "It only went dark when he left. If he's still here, why would it be dark?"

Bruno suddenly understood the concern. They'd thought he was gone again because his door was dark. The door hadn't gone dark just because he'd left. It had gone dark because he'd refused to use his powers anymore. But they didn't understand that.

"I don't know, abuela," Mirabel said soothingly. "But there must be a reason. As long as he's here, we can figure out what's wrong."

Alma studied the door then sighed and nodded. "You're right, Mirabel."

Bruno stared at their concerned faces and the truth about the door was on the tip of his tongue. But then he thought about it. The family had never understood him and his curse. And there was no indication that they'd understand now. So he kept his mouth closed and followed his family into the dining room for breakfast. They could try and figure it out. But he wasn't going to help them. They wouldn't care anyway. And sometimes he wondered if any of them ever had.