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Julieta had been fighting an uphill battle for six months to get Bruno healthy again. When he’d first appeared at the ruins of Casita, she’d been so overjoyed that she hadn’t noticed how frail Bruno was. He’d never been the strongest child, had certainly been the most prone to illness and injury of the Madrigal triplets, but either way, Julieta shouldn’t have been able to feel his ribs the second time she hugged her long-lost brother.
She had confided her fears in Pepa, tearfully explaining how little food Bruno must have had in the walls if she had never noticed anything substantial missing from the kitchen. If the magic had still been around, Julieta was certain that Pepa would have been storming for hours. As it was, Pepa began heaping an extra serving onto Bruno’s plate at meals. He ate them, but with a grimace, and Julieta figured out why two days later when she discovered him throwing up in the bathroom of Mariano’s house.
After that, she’d taken it upon herself to make small, light meals that Bruno could eat more frequently. He’d been embarrassed, of course, but she’d roped in their sister, and it was hard to say no to an angry Pepa.
It felt good to be back in the kitchen, helping Bruno, even without her gift (which wouldn’t have done any good in this particular situation anyway). And if she was being honest with herself, she actually thought that the disappearance of the magic had been good for Bruno. The other members of the family (even Dolores, whose gift certainly had its downsides) had all grieved the loss of their gifts. But Bruno seemed lighter, freer. The kids, especially Mirabel, had certainly played an important part in getting him out of his shell, and without the threat of the future hanging over him he became less reclusive than he had been even before the kids were born.
Six months later, Julieta felt a profound sense of accomplishment. Bruno was eating normally again, his frame less dangerously thin and his skin a healthier shade of tan rather than an alarming grey. They had finally finished the house, and were preparing to move back in.
When Mirabel put the doorknob on and Casita came to life, Julieta felt a tingling rush through her, and a grin split her face. The magic was back. They had spent the whole night partying - Julieta laughed as Isa turned the whole room into a maze of cacti, Antonio ran wild with his jaguar, and Pepa and Félix danced in the hail.
The town cheered as each Madrigal awoke their respective doors, but the loudest cheer came when, at long last, Mirabel got her own door. Julieta’s youngest daughter may not have gotten a “gift” in the traditional sense, but Julieta knew no one would ever doubt Mirabel’s importance again, and Casita rewarded the teenager with a room full of as much fabric and thread as she could want.
So Julieta had spent the evening celebrating her youngest and dancing with Augustín, and didn’t notice her brother slipping away from the crowd. It wasn’t until the next morning, actually, when she woke up in her bed with a jolt of surprise, suddenly remembering the return of the magic, that some voice in her head went “what about Bruno?”
In hindsight, that’s where everything started to go downhill again.
……………………………………………
“Brunito, is everything all right?”
Julieta’s brother was leaning on the kitchen counter, face contorted in a grimace with a hand pressed to his temple. At her question, he jerked upright and shot her a nervous glance.
“Y-yeah, um, just a headache. Thought a snack would fix it.”
“You know you don’t have to ask for food, hermano. Here, I made these this morning,” she handed him an arepa and watched as he took a bite.
Bruno’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but Julieta could tell by the fact that Bruno was still squinting slightly that his headache hadn’t vanished. That batch of arepas had healed a bee sting, a sprained wrist, and a cut finger this morning, so it wasn’t a problem with the magic. Which meant that Bruno’s headache could only be one thing.
Ever since they’d received their gifts at five, Julieta knew her brother had struggled with not only the emotional but also the physical side effects of his visions. Migraines were a frequent companion, especially when Bruno was trying to actively avoid having any visions.
She opened her mouth to say something, but Bruno had already turned to leave. She resigned herself to keeping an eye on him.
Over the next few days, Julieta never noticed Bruno openly exhibiting pain like he had in the kitchen, but she watched as her brother grew more and more withdrawn. He still showed up to family meals, but he ate less and less, and the bags under his eyes seemed to darken every time she saw him. Finally, after almost a week, she decided enough was enough.
She waited until everyone had gone to bed, figuring that Bruno wouldn’t want an audience and knowing that unless Dolores was asleep in her soundproof room, everyone would know about what was going to happen. Augustín made a muffled, half-asleep sound of protest when she rolled out of bed but didn’t wake fully. So Julieta made her way up the flight of stairs to her brother’s room, taking reassurance in the soft glow of his door.
She knocked softly and then pushed the door open, softly calling “Bruno?”
For a moment, she could only stare. It dawned on her that she hadn’t been inside Bruno’s room since Castia had been rebuilt. Gone was the hourglass-shaped curtain of sand and the endless staircase to the vision cave. Instead, Julieta walked into a round room with a bed, an armchair (oddly enough, it was the red one she thought had been thrown out after Mirabel’s failed gift ceremony and Bruno’s disappearance), and a large armoire. The ground was still sand, but it seemed finer and softer than before. Off to the one side was a door, which Julieta presumed led to a new vision cave.
Bruno himself was slouched in the chair, a rat in each hand, looking rather miserable. His knees were drawn up to his chest, face pinched and drawn with the telltale signs of the beginning of a migraine. At the sound of her voice, he jerked, and the rats scrambled away.
“Julieta, what are you doing here?” Bruno questioned, curling in on himself.
“I came to check on you,” she said gently.
Surprise flicked across Bruno’s face, and Julieta’s heart broke a little knowing that he still didn’t fully believe that people worried about him.
“Uh, thanks, hermana, but I’m fine. I promise.”
Julieta frowned. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. How about you come down to the kitchen with me?” she asked, stretching out a hand.
“Your cooking doesn’t help my vision headaches, Juli, you know that,” Bruno said, pointedly ignoring her outstretched arm.
“Yes, I know that, but you hardly had anything at dinner. A snack still might help you feel better,” she offered.
“You’re not going to leave me alone unless I come eat, are you,” Bruno sighed, levering himself up and out of the chair with a wince.
Julieta laughed. “You’re right about that,” she said gently, wrapping an arm around her brother’s shoulders as they made their way downstairs.
“Casita?” she questioned, and the house obliged by pushing a couch into the corner of the kitchen. Bruno sat down, but when she moved to head to the stove, his hand shot out from under his ruana and caught her by the wrist.
“Just…stay here a minute?” Bruno looked up at her, hesitant.
Julieta smiled, settling down on the couch next to her brother. “Of course, hermanito. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Bruno sighed, tucking his knees up to his chest and hiding his face in them. Julieta frowned, placing a comforting hand on his back.
“It’s harder now. You know, now that I know what it feels like to not have this ‘gift’,” Bruno scoffed sarcastically, turning his face to peer at her. “I don’t want to be able to see the future - I don’t want people to blame me again. I don’t want to let people down. And it’s easy enough to turn down requests for prophecies. But when I try to suppress these involuntary visions, the ones that the Encanto or Casita or the miracle or whoever wants me to see, well…you know what happens. Every time I try to sleep I start to see things, and - ” Bruno shivered, and Julieta shifted to give him the best side hug she could.
“I know you don’t want this, Bruno. But you can’t keep hurting yourself to avoid these visions. You will see whatever the universe wants you to see, and we will deal with it then. But I can’t stand to see you in pain, Brunito.” She tucked two fingers under his chin, gently tipping his head to face her. “Promise me you won’t keep doing this to yourself.”
Bruno uncurled and practically flung himself into her arms, nodding into her shoulder. Julieta squeezed her brother tighter, finding herself still surprised to have him here, hugging her, half a year after his reappearance. She attempted to subtly swipe a hand at her misty eyes, then pulled back.
“Now, how about we get you something to eat?”
Bruno grimaced, hand creeping towards his stomach.
Julieta sighed. “Sí, Bruno, I know you don’t feel well. At least have some water?”
After retrieving a glass, Julieta grabbed her brother by the elbow and led him back upstairs to his room.
“Now, Brunito, get some rest.” He hesitated, so she pulled the tower door closed behind her. “I’ll be right here.”
Bruno smiled.