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After the Casita had been rebuilt, Dolores noticed that Camilo hadn’t been as loud and boisterous as he usually was. She would notice her brother staring off into space during the times they ate together and at night she could hear sobs of pure terror escape him from his room. It was obvious that he was trying to be as quiet as possible those nights in order to not worry his sister. However, he knew that no matter how quiet he was, his sobs could never escape from travelling to his sister's hearing.
Mirabel knew something was wrong, she knew who had the problem, she just didn’t exactly know what the problem was. Her cousin was acting far more differently than how he usually does and it was throwing everyone off loop. The Madrigals were still regaining their powers as well, Pepa and Dolores were more sensitive with their gifts. Dolores needed frequent breaks and seeked refuge in her room, and Pepa couldn’t control her emotions and hurricanes in the household became awfully frequent. Antonio was still struggling to speak to the animals due to the fact that his gift was still unstable, he could sometimes understand them, and other times, he couldn’t. Luisa spent her time simply working out generally because she wanted to and was helping out around the house along with Isabela.
“Mira, could you do me a favour, por favor?” Dolores requested, fiddling with her skirt. She could hear Camilo weeping in his room, mumbling strings of ‘I’m Sorry’s like a mantra. She could hear the scratching of skin and his ragged breathing from a mile away, and it concerned her.
“Of course, Dolo. What’s the problem?” Mirabel inquired, curious of what the issue was with Dolores. “Say, this has something to do with Camilo doesn’t it? He's been acting strangely recently and hasn’t been acting like himself.” Mirabel could see her prima flinch, staring at her brother's room.
“He’s been crying all night, I don’t know if he slept or not, but he’s crying right now mumbling ‘I’m Sorry’ like a mantra. I know I should be the one to check up on him but I’m not exactly the best at comforting others. I tried talking to him but he brushed it off and he’s been avoiding me constantly and I don’t know what to do.” Mirabel stared at her then to Camilo’s door.
“Alright, prima. I’ll go check on him for you.” Mirabel confirmed, Dolores smiling in response. “Do be careful though, his room tends to change a lot and occasionally it’s beyond his control, it just happens.” Dolores warned as Mirabel nodded, remembering the warning her cousin gave her.
Mirabel makes it up the stairs towards Camilo’s room. She could hear the sobbing inside the room, words she couldn’t understand leaked quietly into the hallway. “Camilo? Pimo? Are you alright?” Footsteps could be heard inching closer towards the door. “Sorry, Mira. The room’s a bit of a mess right now, could you- uh- give me a few minutes?” The sniffling was audible, he was obviously trying to find a way to have time to calm down. “Yeah- of course. Just, let me know when you’re ready.” Mirabel soothed waiting on the other side of the door.
The sounds of shuffling filled Camilo’s ears, he had to calm down and fix whatever the hell happened to his room fast. He finds a basin with water, cold to the touch but not cold enough to cause discomfort. He dunks his face inside the basin and lifts it up a few seconds later. He stares at the water, some of it reaches the floor, his reflection- who is Camilo? His own face is contorted far beyond recognition and he couldn’t exactly tell if this was someone he had shapeshifted into or if this was his true- oh abuelo-
“‘Milo? You alright in there?” He forgot about Mirabel.
“Estoy bien, uh- hold on- okay…” He finishes shifting his room into something else, something that felt much more comforting to him. Hanging vines lulled the grey walls, what seemed to be his bed was located at a second loft, books were located on the bookshelves to his right. A homey feel. “Come in.” He states, allowing her to enter his room.
Mirabel enters through his door and gapes at his room. How comfortable and soothing it felt to be inside of his room, The vines hanging on the walls and some plans generally hanging from the ceiling had given her the most welcoming feeling.
Camilo didn’t exactly like this room he shifted. Yes it gave that homey comfortable feeling, but it was lacking. He wanted more- but he didn’t know what he wanted more of. It needed more but he didn’t know what he needed more of! Abuela had told him ‘put whatever you like inside’ and Abuelo Pedro bless him from above but he had absolutely no idea of what he liked. All he knew of was ‘The Madrigals Shapeshifter: Camilo Madrigal’, sifting from one body to the next. It disgusted him, the feeling of someone else's skin and not recognizing it as he was young terrorized him. Yet now- now he couldn’t tell if he was Abuela or some random mother in the city because he doesn’t remember his own skin, and it was absolutely horrifying.
“Cams? You alright?”
He starts scratching, hard and fast, get the skin off, gettheskinoffgettheskinoffgettheskinoff-
“Yeah, just really- get off! MI!-” He was tackled by her, she grabbed his arms and held them onto the ground.
“Stop scratching! Your skin will come off and-”
“Good! Let it come off!!”
“Camilo-”
“Mirabel, Camilo, both of you, enough!”
Abuela was quick to separate the two, Julieta and Agustin kneeling in front of Mirabel, they were obstructing her view, yet she knew he was scratching, removing his skin. Camlo was on his knees, scratching his arms hard enough to draw blood, he needed to take his skin off- he needed a change- something needed to change. The room was cramped, people came in, he didn’t like this- he needed it to change. He begged for it to change under his breath, very much so audible to Dolores.
“Hermanito, calm d-”
The room started shifting, changing, trying to find itself a spot for everything. At first mirrors were everywhere, they could see themselves and hear whispers of displeasure flutter into their minds. The room started spinning, shifting into something else and the next thing they knew was that they were falling, they all hit the sand with a groan. Then the room completely changes, a maze. It was a hunt to see who would find Camilo first, yet, would he be in the middle? Would there be an end point?
“When I told you to talk to my brother about what was wrong I didn’t mean you had to hold his arms down onto the ground and restrict his movement!” Dolores cried, staring at Mirabel. Dolores was beyond pissed, nobody in their right mind would hold someone down after they finish crying! Silence remained, except for Dolores. Nothing could escape her ears, no matter how quiet they think they are.
The sounds of skin being scratched and ragged breathing filled her body, she could hear the quiet sobs Camilo let out. She could hear a mantra of “get off” escaping her hermanito. Oh how she wanted to console her brother and give him the comfort he wanted. Pepa ushered everyone out, she knew that the only person Camilo would be willing to talk to at the moment is Dolores.
“... ‘Lo? Do you mind changing the room?” She questioned, as the room shifted to mirrors staring at the two of them and their every action. Camilo sat in the middle, weeping and scratching his skin. Dolores knew that if Camilo was able to shift the room, he had enough control.
“Oh ‘Milo, mi sol…” She pitied, the scratching had stopped, thankfully. Yet, his arms were wet and sticky with blood.
“‘Lores… Too much…” He could feel her embrace him, his face was stained with tears, not like he stopped crying anyways.
“I know ‘Milo, I know. First let’s clean your wounds and wrap them up. Yes?” She questioned, comfortingly as he nodded in response. Dolores learned first hand to never let Camilo eat anything made by Tia Julieta after his panic attack. She knew that if she were to give him a Arepa he would scratch his arms once again, leading to scarring. “I will be right back, I’ll get a basin of water. Don’t go anywhere.” She questioned as she got up with, getting ready to fill up a basin in his room. Dolores closed the door, although she could hear the conversation of everyone from upstairs. Dolores departs to the bathroom to fill up Camilo’s basin, the sound of the water hitting the metal bucket. She grabs the bandage under the sink, always ready for Camilo’s usage. Dolores turns the water off in order to make her way back to her brother, grabbing a clean cloth inside a cabinet. She knocks on Camilo’s door, entering after his response.
“Alright mi sol, I’m going to clean your arms.” Dolores knew that he had been spacing out, it was normal for it to occur after a panic attack. She drenches the white cloth with water, squeezing out the excess water after dunking it. She places the warm cloth onto her brother's arms, the blood soaking into the cloth leaving a stain unable to be removed. A groan echoes in the air, Camilo’s ragged breathing hasn’t completely stopped, but the tears have. Dolores grabs the bandage and wraps it around his arm. She then repeats the process of cleansing the cloth, and cleansing and wrapping his wounds.
“Camilo, You okay to see the family?” A nod was her answer, Dolores smiled and wiped his face clean of tears.
“Alright, let’s see them downstairs, hm?” She extended her hand, letting Camilo take it. Dolores knew he wasn’t as social after occurrences like this, he would hide behind someone or shift into someone else, he didn’t exactly want anyone to stare at him after he’s been crying. Dolores opens the door, her brother trailing from behind, she holds his hand gently, squeezing it occasionally. Dolores goes down the stairs slowly, Camilo never letting go of her and. He kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to know if everyone was staring at him or not. He didn’t want to know.
“‘Milo mi sol, are you alright?” Pepa exclaimed, rushing to Dolores and Camilo, Felix trailing behind his beloved. He nodded, looking away into the ground.
“Ah, mama. ‘Milo isn’t feeling social right now, he’s still recovering right now.” Pepa nodded, understanding that her son wasn’t really wanting to talk at the moment. Dolores let go of Camilo’s hand, allowing their mother to hug him.
“Oh ‘Milo, my son…” Pepa weeped, rain flooding the streets of encanto, her son burying his face into the crook of his mothers neck. “Mama…” He whispered, basking in his mothers embrace.
“Cami, how you feeling?” Mirabel questioned, fiddling with her skirt. “He’s alright, he said. He just doesn’t really want everyone staring at him though.” Dolores responded for him.
“Mi amor, why did you put bandages on him? Julieta’s arepa can heal him.” Pepa questioned, looking towards Dolores. “Mama, he’d start scratching again. His skin needs time to heal.” She answered, Camilo's whimper reaching her ears. “Lo siento, mi sol.” Dolores apologized, as Camilo let out a groan in response, his eyes staring towards Dolores. He was tired, his mama still embraced him, holding him tight in her arms. “”Milo, how long? How long has this been happening for?” Felix questioned, approaching his son. He let out a hum in response before answering. “M’ while… Never this bad…” He mumbled into his mother. The fact that he spoke was a good sign for Dolores, she knew that small phrases that weren’t complete sentences was a sign of him getting his bearings together. “¿Por qué no nos lo dijiste, mi sol?” Their father had asked, and realistically, he didn’t know why he never told them. Was it out of fear and how they’d think of him if he did tell them? Or was it because it would just sound absolutely weird if he went up to his mom telling her everything about him that he didn’t like? Hell he didn’t know, nor did he really want to know.
“Siento no habértelo dicho…” Camilo mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Eat, mi querido.” Julieta stated, lifting Camilo’s face to shove a pastry into his mouth.
He chewed on the pastry, the softness comforted him, as if he was biting into a cloud. He looked like a child who was lost on the streets of Encanto and taken in by the Madrigals, a child who was slowly chewing on a pastry after sobbing. Once he finished, he knew that this would be the time for questions.
“What caused that Camilo?” Abuela questioned first, staring directly at her grandson. Camilo almost opted to say ‘everything’ yet that wouldn’t help at all.
“When I… When I shapeshift, I gain the memories of that person and how they think. Uh, after that happens it kind of starts to get confusing… It’s kinda like if I do shift into too many people in a minute span, I’ll end up uhm- forgetting if I am shifted into someone. So I can never really tell if I am in my body, especially-uh right now… Sometimes my skin feels weird- not like in a bad way but I can’t really tell if it’s my skin or if it’s someone else's, so I resort to scratching it off and… Yeah…”
“Ask me. Pull me aside- I don’t care what I’m doing, find me or any of us, and ask us ‘Am I Camilo? Am I me?’ and we’ll tell you. Does that sound fair? And if you’d like we’ll put up mirrors around the streets of Encanto so that you’d be able to know if you’re you.” MIrabel suggested, everyone nodding in response, agreeing with what she said.
“That… I’d like that…”