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Bruno Madrigal is not a widely liked man.
Sure-anyone could’ve told you that for free. Bad luck Bruno strikes again! Bad luck Bruno kills people’s pets and ruins weddings! Don’t let Bad luck Bruno’s near your kids or your abuela! He doesn’t really like people anyways. Sure, that might stem from the whole ‘We hate that guy’ thing. Either way having everyone avoid him kinda works for him. Bruno knows this. The town knows Bruno knows this. It’s a mutual agreement: Don’t bother Bruno and Bruno won’t bother you.
This continued after Casita fell. Sure, he got a few comments and glances, but overall? Exactly like before. Yet, every rule has its exceptions.
Case and point: Manuel Gomez.
Manuel is one of the many acclaimed ‘victims’ of the cursed visions. He claims that he was cursed by Bruno to have only daughters, which! In his defense! He thought that was a good vision! Healthy children! How was Bruno supposed to know that Manuel wanted to ‘carry the family legacy’?!
Ahem. Manuel did not follow the set rules. Every time he saw Bruno, he couldn’t help but sneer some unwanted comments or, in some cases, lay his hands on Bruno. It was always fixed in a jiffy, and if he was being honest, he would sometimes fight back just a little bit. Not too much! But, you know, enough. Let a man have fun with it! God forbid if he knew Bruno was back. Speaking of which, Bruno was back (!), whether the town people liked it or not.
(They didn't, if the whispers and glares meant anything).
But whether they liked Bruno or not didn't matter. They liked the Madrigals, and the Madrigals needed their help with the collapse of Casita.
This is where the domino effect began. Powerless and helpless, the Madrigals needed to rely on the townsfolk for help. They never knew a life without their powers (besides, well, Mirabel of course), let alone a life without a house. So the people built. And everyone was busy, running around and taking or receiving orders. Calls and commands rang out like bells, and God it was overwhelming. Bruno couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Dolores, even if she didn't have her power at the moment. But Bruno was always an easily overwhelmed guy. The people avoided him. He didn't have much experience with talking to people outside of his family. Unless it was for the nowadays rare vision or a swift insult and (sometimes literal) punch to the face.
Glancing around the much too crowded site, Bruno evaluated the fastest exit. Back through the woods would be good. He could follow the river into the currently empty town and hang around for a minute. Catch his breath. Besides, he hasn’t seen the place in years. It would be…nostalgic. Very nostalgic.
He looks around once more, making sure no one would notice his absence (or at least his exit). When it came up clear, he dashed towards the woods. His head was down, no one would notice, and he’d be-
“Ow!”
-home free (ha). Goddammit.
“Tio, where are you going?” Ah, Mirabel. Of course it had to be the most stubborn one.
Bruno glanced up sheepishly at her. “Hey..Mirabel….”
She rolled her eyes, a smile creeping up on her face. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Ah. Time to pull out the Bruno classic-Tell the truth and make them feel bad enough to pity you and let you go. 50/50 success rate!
“Well-uh-you see-” Smooth Bruno. Don’t forget the 50/50 success rate. “It’s..It’s kinda, well, loud?”
Mirabel, bless her heart, nods. Her eyes soften in understanding. “Yeah, I get that. Stay safe, alright? I’ll let the rest know that you’re going on a walk or something.”
50/50 success rate!!
Bruno sighs, sending her a thankful smile. He’s a little upset that the rest of the family would know, but sometimes you don’t always get what you want! You learn that very fast when you can see the future! Besides, he’s lucky enough to at least be able to leave. Appreciate the little things, you know. He walks past her, sending her one final silent nod. Thank God for rebellious and understanding teens. He’d always be one at heart.
The walk to town was quick, as he still had the path memorized. Plus, observing all the differences that came in the decade he missed in the walls made time fly. The path was even more worn, but old markers stayed strong throughout the years. Old rocks with graffiti drawn onto them, names and crushes and insults written in cheap pen. It was all the same from when he was younger, albeit with different names and newer jokes (is that Camilo’s name? Oh my god. He has to tease him later.)
The town, as he predicts (ha), is empty when he arrives. Everyone is hard at work, except for a handful of elders and children, and maybe one or two pregnant or sick women. He doesn’t recognize any of the kids, or the young adults. He’s sure he knows some of them, but they were children when he last saw them. Aging changes one's face.
He’s strolling through town, trying to remember what was here ten years ago and what’s new, when a feeling hits him. It feels like panic, a vision (that’s impossible), and the flight or fight response all at once.
It hits him in one word: hide.
He hesitates though, and that’s all it takes.
Suddenly, he’s on the ground in the alleyway. His head throbs , pumping like his too fast heartbeat. Who the hell-
A unfortunately familiar face fills his admittedly blurry vision, a cocky grin flashing one too many teeth. A hand, too rough with work, grips onto Bruno’s hair like a lifeline. He bites down on his lips far too hard, desperate to keep a yelp down.
Manuel Gomez.
“Bruno Madrigal…” Alcohol. It’s far too strong on his breath. “Great to see you, buddy.”
“You uh…you think I’m your buddy?” Slick Bruno, he thinks to himself. Glad you’re so good at reading sarcasm. Wanna try that 50/50 while you’re at it?
Manuel frowns. Looks around. Glances back down. Awkward.
“Manuel-?”
He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence. Something strong hits against his nose, snapping bones in his face into a million pieces. Blood bursts from the broken area like a geyser, bursting through as if it were a dam.
“SHIT!” Bruno cries, and he knows for a fact that that’s too much blood. It’s streaming down his face. Tears and blood mix in the hollows of his lips, and fuck , he thinks, he’ll choke-!
Another punch. Another. Scattered around his face, the wedding ring on his hand leaving shallow cuts across his cheek. They’re so fast, he barely gets the chance to think, let alone respond.
“You ruined my legacy, f’cking seer,” he pauses to spit into his face, tone shifting into something brutal. “I’ll kill you.”
It sounds a little too much like a promise. It’s a little funny.
“You c-can’t do that,” he stutters out, his voice catching on red-hot liquid dripping down his throat. It’s embarrassing.
“I wasn’t askin’ you, I’m tellin’ you.”
It’s still kinda funny.
Blood still streams down his face, like the river he was walking by mere minutes (hours? Days? How long has he been here?) ago. And-And-
It hurts. But it’s so nostalgic.
And Bruno laughs.
“The-The fuck?” Manuel is slurring his words. It’s so fucking funny, Bruno cackles. A hysterical smile plays on his face, red and yellow teeth flashing the confused drunk.
His face hurts. With every laugh blood splatters on Manuel’s disgusting grimace. He laughs harder, defiant and satisfied. He might not be able to talk or punch, but he can do this.
“Shut up!” Sloppy punches pound against him, against the ground when he becomes blind with rage. He’s taking a beating, yeah, but Manuel’s already lost to Bruno.
Maybe he shouldn’t be getting this much thrill out of this, he thinks. It’s messed up that he feels like he’s won. Either way, his bitten through lips can’t help but stretch into a cruel mockery of joy. Manuel’s never been the boss of him anyways.
Victory tastes like pennies, and Bruno’s mouth’s full of it.
One punch misses completely. Bruno takes the advantage, swinging his own punch onto his enemy. It lands square in his temple, the grip on Bruno becoming loose. He takes the opportunity to kick like his life depends on it, nausea filling his stomach like blood in the mouth. Manic, frantic hits, one after another,
after another,
after another.
He spits against the ground, once he pulls himself above Manuel. He’s cocky now, but he has the upper hand.
“What?” Bruno smiles lazily, a sarcastic quip on his lips. “Didn't expect ol’ Bruno to come on top, huh?”
Manuel yells, echoing through the alley. If someone were to walk in and see this-bloodied Bruno on top of an innocent-he would be exiled in moments. He’s being careless, he knows. They trade another round, each fist becoming more and more tired until only Bruno’s eyes are alive with mirth.
Then it dawns on him. He’s got family waiting for him at home now.
Shit.
Pushing himself off the ground, he staggers away from Manuel. Oh mierda, he can’t heal this away. What will he tell them?
“Ge-Get back here! Br’no!” Manuel yells down the alleyway, rough voice hitting against brick walls. It rings in his ears as he stumbles away and down the street, rushing towards the woods. The joy of the fight dies instantly, nothing but sheer panic filling his gut. He has to get to the woods.
He can sort something out there. The town, as empty as it may appear, always has someone in there. He can’t be seen, as disgusting as he looks right now. He needs-God, what does he need? Bandages, probably. Does he need rest? He’s always had Julieta’s food, he’s never really considered how to heal without it. Rest sounds right though. Surely he could nap or something in the woods?
He’s around the graffiti rock when he hears it.
“Bruno? Bruno, where are you?” Mirabel, of course, and maybe Camilo if he’s hearing correctly.
You’ve got to be kidding me .
Yanking his hood over his head, he waves a hand over the rock.
“I’m over here!” He yells. “I’m fine! Don’t worry about me!”
He prays to himself that they won’t come over. He confirmed he’s alive, isn’t that good enough? Apparently not, if those footsteps mean anything.
“Oh, thank Dios we found you!” Mirabel’s all too cheery voice rings out. “I thought we lost you!”
“Yeah, tio,” Camilo (so he is there) says. “Thought we’d never see you again!”
Mierda.
“I’m fine!” He yells back, yanking the hood so far over his face he couldn’t see. “Are you?” No response.
He hears someone stop in front of him. The ends of Mirabel’s skirt brushes against his ankles.
“…Bruno? You alright down there?”
God, he must look like shit if Camilo’s worried. Time to deflect. He raps his knuckles against the rock. “You’ve been writing your name on rocks, sobrino?” It doesn't come out half as funny as he expects.
Camilo ignores it. “Dude you look depressed.” Thanks Camilo. “Do you need, like, a hug or something?”
“I’m fine—“
He can practically hear Mirabel light up. “Ooo, great idea!”
Really bad idea, actually, but thanks for asking.
“Actuall-“ The protest dies on his tongue, Mirabel already gripping him far too hard. Her shoulder knocks against his nose and holy shit did that hurt.
“ Please stop hugging me,” he hisses out. Mirabel drops him instantly.
She’s already stammering out apologies when Camilo interrupts her.
“What’s that on your sleeve?” A pause. “Is that…blood?”
There’s a beat that lasts far too long, leaving Bruno to curl in further on himself. Someone leans over him, pushing his hood out of his face, and two horrified gasps ring out.
Fuck.
“You should, heh, see the other guy?” The joke falls painfully flat.
Fuck.
He can’t even imagine what he looks like, all covered in semi-dried blood and half formed bruises. Disgusting, revolting, repulsive-
“Bruno, dios, you’re bleeding.” Understatement much? “Come here, we’ll take you to mama,” Mirabel beckons. Her voice shakes slightly, and when he looks up, her face is held in a steady grimace. Camilo on the other hand looks pale, eyes wide and trembling in a way Bruno’s never seen before. Poor kid was never good with blood. It’s probably the most either has ever seen.
“K-Kid, she’s not gonna be able to, you know,” he waves a hand over his face, “heal me. I could probably do a better job than her, with the whole ‘not a lotta food in the walls’ thing, heh.”
To their silence, he continues: “I can look after myself, you know.”
The dead silence is broken by Mirabel’s angry sigh, and when he glances up, she’s seething.
“I can look after myself?!” She leans in, causing him to flinch away (well, as far as he can), “Bruno! You’re part of our family, I’m not going to let you look after yourself! We’d protect you with our lives, tio, let us!”
“Yeah,” Camilo joins in, “I got your back, tio! As long as you got mine!”
Bruno freezes in place. Fuck , they don’t know that’s the worst part. How they would give up anything for someone who just beat a man bloody. For someone like Bruno.
“Bruno,” Mirabel says, now at his level, “We will always rescue you. We’re just trying to keep you safe. Now,” She stands back up, extending a hand, “come with us?”
He takes her offer.
——————————————————
“Bruno, you stupid-Oh mierda-!” Pepa raves, stomping in a circle. One could almost picture the storm that would usually be above her head.
Julieta, on the other hand, pokes and prods his face. She’s actively ignoring Bruno’s hisses of “Don’t touch that,” and “ Please don’t touch that.”
Her and Pepa were, to state it plainly, fucking furious. How dare Bruno run off on his own, what was he thinking?! After a particularly harsh jab that leaves Bruno wincing, Camilo, who’s been watching curiously from the side, seemed to take pity on him. He leans over and moves his tia’s hands aside.
Then he ruins it. “So who’s the guy?”
Pepa whips to look at her son. “What?“
Camilo doesn’t seem to notice the angry tone, or just doesn’t care. He also doesn't seem to notice Bruno's pure panic. “The guy. Bruno said I should see the other guy,” he shrugs, “so I wanted to know the whole fight story. Didja win?”
Based on the look Camilo threw at him, he absolutely knew what he was doing. That bastard. Pepa paused. Inhaled. Exhaled. Bruno wished he could do the same, but his lungs were refusing to do anything with the panic stricken into them.
“Bruno?”
He could run away, right? He totally could. They wouldn’t be able to find him this time. He should-
Pepa’s gripping his shoulders suddenly, any flight in his flight or fight immediately disappearing. “Who did this to you?”
“No one!” Bruno blurts a little too fast. “No one, Pepa, it’s fine! Fell over when I was out in the woods! Camilo’s just thinking of a dumb joke I made!”
Pepa stares at him, unimpressed. Time for the 50/50?
“Pepa, listen-“ She doesn’t interrupt him, but the sheer anger in her glare is enough to silence him.
Time for the 50/50.
“Look, uh, there was a guy,” Pepa inhales sharply, while the hands back on his face freeze unexpectedly. “But! It’s fine, we just got into a little disagreement…”
“A little?“ He’s going to kill Camilo if he keeps pushing, Bruno swears. Damn that kid, he takes after his uncle too much.
Either way, Bruno nods. “A little! I can handle myself!” At his sisters’ looks (how are they so good at that?), he crumbles a bit. “I mean, I got away right? I’m fine. The other guy’s fine. Just roughed him up enough to get away, that’s all.”
Camilo grins at that, looking a bit surprised. “You ‘roughed him up’? Oh, I wish I was there to see that!” He laughs. “Didja win though? You must’ve, if you made it all the way back-“
“ Camilo.”
He shrinks in on himself slightly, flashing his mama an apologetic smile. There’s still a glint of amusement in his eyes, however.
Pepa turns to look at Bruno, sighing. “And you didn’t tell us because…?”
Fuck the 50/50, this sucks. “I’m sorry, Pepa, but it’s-“
“And don’t say it’s fine,” Julieta interrupts, her glare harsh. He smiles apologetically at her. Then he remembers his teeth are still definitely bloodstained and probably horrific to look at. Way to go Bruno! Let's see how else you can traumatize your family!
“No, no, Bruno, open your mouth again. I need to see if there’s any damage,” Julieta prompts, already poking at his lips. He’s glad for the distraction, but he knows he’ll still have to answer at some point. He obliges, though, and let’s his sister check for..something. He isn’t quite sure what she’s looking for.
“ Mierda! Pepa, the bastard chipped his teeth!” Pepa rushes over, gasping at the sight. He can see Camilo behind them, desperately trying to catch a glimpse himself.
Goddamnit. Of course he has to lose a tooth or two on top of it. Can’t get away from anything without a few scars, huh?
“Mmrph-“ He tries to speak, muffled by Julieta poking a very sore tooth and oh my god that fucking hurt-
“Ah, ah, sorry Bruno,” They back off, Pepa seething even more than before. Bruno spits fresh blood onto the ground, gagging at the feeling. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, like palpitations, like how his head was just hours before.
“It’s not too bad hermano…” He can’t help but not believe her.
Running his tongue gently over his teeth, he can definitely tell that some of those indents were not there before. He stops after he cuts his tongue over a particularly sharp chip. Nothing can go right for him, huh?
Camilo slides next to him. “Ay, tio, at least they look cool! I’ll add ‘em to my Bruno design!” He pauses. “That is, if we get our powers back..”
Pepa, cooled down enough to see her son’s sadness, sets a hand down on his shoulder. “Ay, I know it’s tough hijo. Why don’t you help your tio out and run to get a washcloth? I’m sure the girls up front have some. Oh, and get a glass of water too. Bruno needs to wash his mouth out.”
Camilo hesitates but nods, running past them to fetch whatever Bruno needs. It makes him smile to himself, although he feels bad enough subjecting his poor nephew to this. He shouldn’t be running around to get stuff for Bruno on top of it.
“Oh, I don’t need all that…” Bruno says. “Really, you guys saving me is enough.” He tries to tack on a reassuring (closed mouth) smile at the end.
It doesn’t work. “Bruno, we did not save you. You said you fought them off yourself!” Julieta scolds, “Besides, you need to stay hydrated. Your hands are trembling!”
He glances down. ‘Huh,’ he thinks. ‘I guess they are.’
“Julieta, it’s fine. You could all leave right now and I would still thank you!”
“ Leave?” She says, “ Leave?! Bruno, hermano, I won’t leave you! Not in this condition!”
Jesus. “Julieta, it was an example. Lord knows you won’t leave me alone.” He tries to keep his tone playful, but fails. Damn.
“I can’t leave alone! Look at you! I lose you for five minutes and you break your nose and lose your teeth because a townsfolk decided to pick a fight with you!” She blurts, voice shaking. “I was worried sick when Mirabel told me you went for a walk, but I thought that maybe you could handle yourself! Now you’re bleeding and hurt and there’s nothing I can do!” She shouts, hands desperately clinging to Bruno as if it’s the only way to prove he’s there.
Oh. Oh.
“Julieta…” He doesn’t know what to say.
“You should be in bed right now. All cleaned up and eating good food and safe. And I know you’re hurt right now, but let me help you. Please.”
He falters. He doesn’t want to burden them, he truly doesn’t.
But his body aches, and God, he just wants to go to bed. And if they want to help…
“Yeah,” He says, leaning into Julieta’s waiting arms. He suddenly feels exhausted. “Yeah, I think that’ll be alright.”
He doesn’t protest when his sisters hold him close, wrapping his own unsteady arms around them.
Yeah. He’ll be alright.