Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruno’s heart hammered as he stared down to the smooth, jade tablet of his vision. His dear, beloved Sobrina, older than her current self, amongst the cracks of the Casita. It’s cool surface being one of the few things grounding him to the present and regretfully so. A bad vision.

It was rare he ever had ‘good’ ones, depending on the beholder, and in most cases he tried to think of them as neutral. This classed as bad. There was no way to see any good in it and… he had no idea of it’s context. Like it actually mattered now. Mama would never see the means, only the end.

Bruno’s heart tugged painfully. Mirabel.

Only five today and now reeling with the loss, or lack thereof a gift that she had been promised. He couldn’t imagine her grief and confusion. While his mother had begged him to look, he hadn’t given her an answer; they had been interrupted by Pepa, thankfully so he slipped away. The vision within his hands, he could only imagine what his mother would do in seeing this. Do to Mirabel if she jumped to the obvious conclusion that Mirabel would bring Casita down…

He couldn’t do that to her.

She was five.

Scared and probably mentally scared with how disastrous today had been for her. He didn’t need to look into the future to see what her life would be if Abuela found out. She didn’t deserve that. This should have been one of the happiest days of her life with her own room and her own gift. She had neither.

Bruno lifted himself up and threw the glass against one of the stones in the sandpit, watching as the jade shattered and spread away with a mild sensation of relief; no one would be seeing that. He’d never do another one. He couldn’t… wouldn’t do that. He turned, somewhat numbly, and headed towards his door, to find something to eat to regain his strength and to rid himself of the headache.

But he now needed was a plan of action once he was fed and could think straight.

He needed to leave.

Bruno let his feet guide him, letting out a breath as brushed the sand out his sandals once he was out his door. Outside, only a few lights stone but what stood out the most was the candle in his Mama’s room. Its flame was large and its aura was much bigger than usual. Why had something so potent with magic neglected the most innocent soul? It must surely know of the ritual it had become and how it made the unmarked doors glow, the people that came to witness… the last and youngest child that had grown up with the full expectation and promise from everyone she’d receive something wonderful. Had it robbed her of that as a lesson for them? For Abuela?

“Bruno.”

Bruno flinched and inwardly groaned for lingering as his mother’s voice called; too late for him to run and pretend he didn’t hear. He should have gone straight to the kitchen and hid quickly. His temples throbbed painfully as his pulse picked up. His fingers tightened on the balcony edge, turning his gaze behind him in the low light to see Abuela headed towards him swiftly, hopeful even.

“Did you get the vision I asked for?”

Bruno closed his eyes. “No.” Saying yes and having a bad reaction to her would only validate her new negative view of Mirabel and what she meant to the family. He’d not justify her with an answer. 

Abuela’s face turned into a frown. “Bruno, I need you do have that vision, I need to know how safe our miracle is.”

“Can’t you trust the family to support the miracle?” Did she not have faith in her daughters?

“Bruno, this isn’t something that I can just hope will work out on its own; I need to know what’s wrong.” She said sternly. “This family, the Encanto depends on us our miracle. We cannot lose it. Go back to your vision cave and get me that vision.”

Bruno swallowed thickly, already feeling the burning pressure…the guilt that already began to claw it’s way into his heart like a cold vice. He knew…eventually he’d cave. She knew that as well.

“No.”

The words left his lips before he realized but… it rang true. He would not. The mental image of his Sobrina giving him the strength to say no; he could not condemn her. She was so innocent.

“I can’t—no, I won’t.” He shook his head, turning away from her. Pain flared back through his skull, flicking behind his eyes that he wanted to rub the pain away. He resisted, to not show weakness now.

Mama puffed up, her shoulders squaring at his resistance. She knew how visions affected him, he had made it clear that he hated using his gift; she was pushing him far too much now. He’d not let Mirabel pay for this.

“Bruno, do not make me ask again.”

Her eyes were full front fury and he shied away from her growing rage, his throat tight but he caught movement to his side to see Pepa’s head poking outside her door, her green eyes wide and alarmed but Mama held a hand out to stop her from talking. A cloud formed quickly with flickers of thunder before Felix tried to coax her back in.

It didn’t work.

Even Julieta seemed to emerge from the Nursery from the other side of the balcony. He wanted to be annoyed at the audience but… seeing them gave him some strength. His triplet siblings.

Pepa’s emotions; so visible to everyone with the clouds she had and repeatedly told to change them for other people's convenience. Told off for simply…feeling. How caged was she really when she couldn’t escape to her own room couldn’t contain her abilities?

Julieta. Grown up in the kitchen, always on her feet and worked to the bone, barely enough time to have raised her children and… he knew her worries if there was something she couldn’t treat… took the burden onto her own shoulders to make sure no one else suffered the same way.

And him, the disappointing son who hated his own gift; giving out visions that people had wanted and getting the backlash it wasn’t to expectations. Never found a woman that wanted him, never had a child that could secure his mother’s affections for him or the child… not that it mattered because now, would all his mother want were magical children? He didn’t want a kid simply for that sole reason. He was happy to dote all his love onto his sister’s children… be their favorite Tio.

Bruno swallowed thickly before returning his gaze back to his mother with a tired look, his shoulders slumping before he took his head for the final time.

“I will not, Mama. I’ve told you I don’t want to use my gift anymore. You.. it hurt me.” Begging for some slither of sympathy was a long shot and her expression told him enough.

“You were given your blessings for a reason, Bruno. Do not waste the sacrifice your father gave for us!”

“It hurts too much, Mama!” Bruno snapped, his voice raising which made Pepa gasp in surprise but he ignored that. “I can’t keep pushing myself for your demands. Push anything too far and it breaks and right now, I can’t handle more… if you keep pushing then…” he faltered, looking to Casita’s closed door, “Then I’ll go. For good.”

Mama bristled with rage. “Don’t you dare try and threaten me with empty threats, Bruno.”

“It’s not empty,” Bruno spoke through gritted teeth because right now, he felt very ready to follow through with his threat to prove a point.

Mama must have sensed his vindication. “If you leave this house… if you leave this family, you’ll be dead to me.”

For a second, the world went quiet and the world went cold as the words reached his ears and for a moment, he wanted to laugh. A cold humorless snort though echoed because… he tried to never look down that path; too scared to let his thoughts control him to do something he’d regret or something his family would regret.

He was already a disappointment and didn’t pull his weight… so why was he still here.

Bruno found the words to speak, his eyes flashing green for a moment but the words left him before he knew what he was saying.

“I wish I was dead.”

He didn’t wait to see the reactions, spinning on the spot, and ran straight to his room and slammed it behind him, adrenaline spiking through his veins that powered him up to a brisk pace up the steps.

Bruno didn’t see how Pepa’s cloud turned dark or the alarm on his other sister’s face at the mere thought of his death but he also hadn’t seen the anger wash completely away from his mother’s face, replaced with something that looked fearful concern before her walls went up and the emotions were locked away in denial that he’d follow through.

As soon as he got into his room, physically drained but his mood no better, Bruno angrily kicked the sand in frustrations, sending the vision plate shards all over the place and a loose shard embedding into the arch of his foot, making him cry out sharply, hopping as he yanked the piece out and tossed it to the side.

Not one of his brightest moments; kicking a pile of broken glass in sandals. Blood seeped quickly through his fingers as he put pressure onto it, very aware of the mess he was making to his room and clothes, swearing under his breath as he leaned against his open door, almost misbalancing

The urge to go back was non-existent, but he knew this was not…a bad cut but it would need to be healed sooner or later. It’d be the responsible thing to do but given he had just climbed up the steps for the second time in the last thirty minutes; he was not going to do that again. Especially not after that augment. He was too riled up.

The stinging pain lingered before he hobbled from his doorway towards his bed, slumping down before he let his footrest up at an incline. He frowned at his hands, at the red that stained them, his ruana…his feet.

He couldn’t do down now. If Julieta saw him… saw him after that argument; he could only imagine what she thought he might have done to himself; he couldn’t have her worry about that.  He needed… he could wait, right? Go down once everyone was in bed?

The idea of going back down and up those steps again was unappealing… He huffed out, deflated as he lay back.

What was he going to do?

He could leave, he had threatened to do so and he knew that… he had to go. For Mirabel’s sake. He could not allow himself to be forced to stay and make another vision. He could, theoretically, pack a bag and walk out those doors. Disappear from the family and that would be it for him.

Only for him.

He didn’t know what life waited for him if he left; he knew the trek would be too long if he walked. He could get a horse, or steal one for convince. But the mountains… the Encanto was so far… so remote. Not to mention the wildlife. Jaguars… carnivorous plants. His breath held…. He couldn’t even hide in Encanto, no one would take him in and he’d be found. He couldn’t even hide in Casita. Pepa had found all his spots. Including that huge space between the kitchen and the dining room. If he disappeared; she’d no doubt look for him there first.

Nowhere to go and… no place here.

Bruno was torn.

He looked at his hands. Perhaps it would be better if he—

“No.” He whispered to himself. He couldn’t do that. Too scared… he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want that; didn’t have the strength to overcome the sense of self-preservation. He would not… do that.

He let out a breath, slumping in defeat. He needed help. He needed a guiding light. A fourth option out of the ones that laid before him.

“Papa… I wish I could make this easy but… I can’t. I can’t stay…but I can’t go. I don’t know what to do.” He whispered to himself. It was rare he even let himself talk to the dead, his papa had only been there for his first few hours before being stolen away. He was long gone and had since Bruno had no male role model in his life in growing up. Talking to him, the idea of talking to papa had been something he needed for himself. “I wish I could be here for Mirabel…for the miracle. Mama will never let this vision go without risking her. I beg for a way out of this impasse…”

Bruno just wasn’t expecting a listener (excluding Dolores) to respond. Outside, the pull of magic resonated with the candle that grew in flame, dispersing more of its glittering trails of the magic away to echoed back to the room to the magical infused man who shuddered with it’s raw warmth that filled his eyes with a green glow.

Magic did not have thoughts or intent, it came when needed. It took glimpses of a child’s traits and interests to grant them a gift best suited for them, magic has its own guidelines to keep itself sustained and the family safe. It couldn’t kill; didn’t stop them from letting the nature of gravity take the reins all that time in its push-back to spare the survivors. It could move the land to protect them, to house them. It could not be begged to take or give a gift. It could feel the weight and strain of its family that could not understand its purpose.

It could feel the request for help so it came. It did not think but it sensed the man’s conflict with the weight of what he was faced with. Its solution was simple for what he needed.

Bruno’s breathe quickened, dropping his feet to the floor as a warmth seemed to wrap around him, pulsing with every beat of his heart. His hands pressed to his chest, groaning out… Bruno wanted to be confused… but he felt…right. That this was nothing to be afraid of.

He heard no sound, but he could feel It in his mind like quiet whispers of his sisters like it had no voice of its own and crafted one from two of his family; like it was meant to come from a place of care.

‘Leaving with nothing for endless isolation begs for death, death is the path of no return with no regrets. Is that what you want?’ This sounded like Pepa.

No.

He didn’t want to die, not now, at least. ‘I just want a break. To disappear and still be with them. To be with Mirabel…my sisters until I need to come back.’ He couldn’t hide forever. Just for a little while.

‘You want to be a ghost.’

‘I do not want to die’ Bruno thought back firmly.

‘Death is the path of no return. Limbo is the spaces between life and death.” He was corrected by the whispered thoughts. ‘You may not like it.’ Julieta this time, the tone so soft and sweet that he felt slither of trust for it; it had an option for him.

‘It’s better than this life now…’ he could live with what it came up with. Anything was better than his impasse.

There was no voice but the deep warmth seeped to pop and release out before the heat returned and his heart sped up. Bruno pushed himself up, fingers knotting into his ruana as the heat tingled and shifted before a coolness began to seep in.

Through the green haze of his vision, he could only watch in morbid fascination at his other hand. From his fingertips, once tanned skin had become a smooth, chalk-white that began to seep across his skin with its cool touch, not changing the sand or blood on him that became a start contract as he straightened up fully, his feet becoming numb as the stone rose from his toes and began climbing up.

Bruno understood.

This was not death. This was his way to leave without going. A frozen moment to keep himself hidden in plain sight. The body will petrify; his soul would not. He could live with that; for Mirabel.

“Lo siento…” He whispered on his final exhale as the cool seeped through his lungs, his body stiffening up, but his eyes remained open as the stone reached his face. But what stood out was the vivid green of his irises that was the only color, aside from blood, to linger on the statue’s face, glowing in the dark.

His apology drifted away, falling to the petrified listener inside her room before the stone silenced his beating heart a breath later along with all other sounds(, aside from the sand) with no indication of what had happened.

The statue remained in place, cool to touch but its new role for an anchor for its spirit within to learn how to move without form, to adjust to incorporeal existence…

Outside, the once vibrant door had gone dark.

It had been Pepa’s scream that woke the house. Followed by Julieta’s as the realization hit. No one knew what had happened. No one dared to venture in and see what potential horror could have happened inside. The sky turned dark as grief settled into Pepa as her mind churned the argument she had overheard from her brother said to their mother over and over again; that this must mean he was gone. That he had followed through.

Julieta wept into her husband’s chest, trying to seek any comfort in him but there was none he could give.

No one looked to see the horror that lay in Abuela’s eyes as she stared at the door; its lack of light and magic seemed to imply everyone’s assumptions; her only son, Bruno was dead. Just like his Papa…

Gone.

Chapter Text

Mirabel didn’t understand what had happened, following the days after her ceremony. The rain had never stopped and Papa had been the one pulling her and her sisters up in the morning than Mama. The air was so tense that there was no conversation aside from Abuela’s instruction. Instructions that had left her with a lot less to do than before.

So Mirabel stayed mostly with her Papa and Tio Felix. She couldn’t understand them either. They spoke quietly to each other about grown-up things—maybe about her lack of gift like she had heard with mama and Abuela.

It was about lunchtime that she decided to ask about her favorite Tio and why he wasn’t eating with them.

“Papa, is Tio Bruno coming down from his room for lunch?” Mirabel asked innocently, not noting the two adults stiffen and exchange a panicked look. “I… I was thinking maybe I could take some up to him? He’d like that very much.”

She could imagine he would; he was always happy to know when his family thought about him. Plus, he had promised they’d eat together. He must be away worried or getting other important work he usually did.

Tio Felix was the first to move, with a soft expression as he knelt, his hand coming to her shoulder. “Mira… Tio Bruno has… moved on.”

“Moved on?” Mirabel echoed, frowning. “Why?”

“He had to go away for a little while and—“

“No!” Mirabel stomped her foot. “No, he didn’t!”

“Mira..” Papa came to her other side but Mirabel shook her head.

“No, He-he promised that… that he’d have lunch or dinner with me after my ceremony. He said so!” Tio Bruno wouldn’t just leave her without saying goodbye.

Papa’s hand rubbed at her back, “Miraboo, its’….not his fault he had to go.”

Her eyes widened before she gasped, her hands coming to her face. “Did he leave because of me not getting a gift?!”

“No!” both her Tio and papa were quick to deny it but it suddenly made sense; she hadn’t seen him since that night! He hadn’t wanted to see her, he didn’t want to be around her because she wasn’t special like him.

Her lip quivered and before she knew it, she pulled herself from her family and ran angrily away, pushing past Isabela and as fast as her little leg would carry her towards her room. She threw off her shoes and grabbed her sheets and hid under them with sniffles.

He had promised he’d be there for her. He said so. He said no matter what… Now he wasn’t here.

The door burst open but she refused to move as her Tio’s hand came to her back, Papa close behind, wheezing and hissing in pain.

“Mirabel,” Filex tried to coax her to look at him but she gripped her mattress to stay down. He sighed out and relented with not knowing what to say and stepped back.

Papa’s steps echoed before she felt him rub at her back this time, trying for comfort. Her frames moved, digging into her face but she allowed him to tug it free.

“Mira, Tio Bruno didn’t go because of you.” He assured her, “he.. just had old troubles that he can’t share with children. It happened very suddenly. I’m sure he would have told you if he had the chance..”

Mirabel sniffled again and she wanted to believe him. “troubles?” She peeked a little, not able to see much with how far her papa really was but she recognized his blobby appearance. “Not me?”

“No, Miraboo. Not you at all.”

Her lip quivered but nodded softly. “Okay.”

Papa rose, offering her glasses to which she took but shook her head as he held a hand out.

“I wanna stay here for a bit, Papi” She did want to look a little better; she had probably needed to straighten up her outfit. “I’ll be out for lunch.”

Papa frowned but after searching her face for a moment, he nodded. With a small wave to Tio Felix, The door closed, and Mirabel was left alone to collect herself.

Maybe she could find a way for Tio Bruno to come back? Maybe she should feed his pet rats? Maybe she could find out what his troubles were and… and try and help him with them? She could try? Couldn’t she? Maybe… maybe he left stuff in his room? Mama never allowed her to go there, Abuela didn’t either but… maybe she could have a peek?

Mirabel moved off the bed, straightening up her skirt and marched away, keeping an eye and ear out as she hurried along the balcony, past her sibling's room until she got to the little steps up next to the steps down to where she ogled the dark door. Last time this had been glowing. It was odd to see it so dull. It must be shown that Tio Bruno had left.

No matter.

Casita’s titles wiggled disapprovingly as she began to step up, trying to dislodge her steps

“No, I need to help!” she almost slipped down but kept a grip on the banister to pull herself up. Then she reached the handle and pushed.

“Cool…” Inside was a wall of falling sand in an hourglass shape frame she had seen on Tio Bruno’s ruana. As soon as she stepped in, she was no longer held up by Casita. She stared up to the wall of sand, watching it’s endless streams in awe before she approached. Poking her finger at its rushing surface with a giggle before she decided that the only way through was onwards.

“Eesssh.” Sand straight into her clothes and hair before the floor fell out from under her. Mirabel grunted, pulling a face at the sand that had got into her nose and mouth before spitting it out and wiping her face down, shaking it from her hair.

On the other side, Mirabel was greeted with the vast space of steps that were astounding. So many steps up to the door. A hand pointed up so…she took those as directions and began to make her ascent up the steps, one at a time.

It took a while and though her legs were burning and her heart thumped in her chest, she could see herself so close to the top. Maybe Tio Bruno had to have something up here! She was sure of it.

Mirabel’s face dropped as she reached the top to disappointment as…the way to get over was just gone. Her shoulders slumped, her lungs still heaving so… she sat down to rest. Maybe… maybe she could find a way?

Tio Bruno’s door was still open, she could see it was filled with darkness at a…circle door. She couldn’t see in that far, but she could see dots of red around its entry that she didn’t get. Probably paint; Tio Bruno had always seemed to dislike his room. Maybe he was redecorating and wanted to get a special color that Encanto didn’t have? How wonderful.

“Tio Bruno?” She called, knowing unlikely since papa said he had left but she felt like being polite.

She stared at the entryway for a moment, keeping a little closer to the edge to see if perhaps… maybe she was missing a way to cross. Her lips pouted as she could only see…empty spaces…. And a very huge drop.

Mirabel jumped back, her hands sweaty so she wiped them down.

“Don’t…” the voice was so soft but she felt a cool touch, guiding her further away from the edge. “Too close…”

Mirabel’s head craned, gasping sharply as she saw her Tio Bruno! He was here! She felt a bubbling sensation of joy, her arms swung, trying to hug his hunched form as he tried to settle her to sit on one of the steps, his face concerned, his eyes glowing green which amazed her but her face fell as… her arms sliced through his torso. Leaving a cool trail against her skin as she pulled her arms back.

Her eyes widened.

“Don’t…” his voice, once so strong was so quiet, “Don’t….be scared…”

Mirabel stared but she suddenly noticed that… he did look a little different. Faint…his edges against the wall were not as sharp as hers. The colors weren’t as vibrant. Her eyes dropped gasping again to see the blood on his hands, not even noting that he was very transparent and you could see the wall behind him and no shadow was cast.

“Oh no!” He was hurt! That wasn’t good! She… she needed to get him one of Mama’s arepa! “You’re hurt.”

Tio Bruno looked down, pulling his hands back, and shook his head, trying to assure her but she jumped to her feet.

“I’m fine!” cool, flittering touches tried to pull her down to sit.

“How are you fine?” She couldn’t understand it, she could see the blood… and he looked so pale. She didn’t want him to be ill.

Tio Bruno held his hand up, “Please…no.”.

She paused to what he asked because… well something didn’t make any sense here. “Papa said you left and… and you were dealing with troubles..”

Bruno’s head tilted before his expression shifted into a soft one, shifting to sit back on the step. Mirabel looked at him carefully before stepping back up and sitting beside him. “I… I thought you left because of me.”

Tio Bruno’s eyes closed regretfully before he shook his head. “No, never.”

Mirabel reached forwards, her hand coming to his knee but this time, she watched as once again, her hand passed through. Her chest tightened with concern. What happened to Tio Bruno?

He reached forwards, his hand feeling a little more solid as he took her hand, kissing the back of it softly. “Spirit. I’m fine.”

Mirabel frowned but her head tilted curiously. “Why are you bleeding?”

His glowing eyes flickered down, lips pursing. “Accident. All fine.”

Mirabel let out a huge breath of relief. She could trust him with that. He was okay. Maybe… maybe she could try and help him get him back to normal? “Do you need help?”

Tio Bruno looked at her with a fond smile, shaking his head before putting his finger to his lips. “No.”

Mirabel nodded, taking a moment to…think. Tio Bruno was still here. That was good. Maybe mama and Tia Pepa would be happy to know! Maybe Pepa would stop raining and… and Mama would give her a huge hug for helping find Tio Bruno. Yes, that sounded like a wonderful idea.

“I missed you.”

Bruno nodded. “Lo siento…” Tio Bruno rose sharply after a few minutes of quiet, kissing the top of her head. “Later… better. Tired, Mirabel.”

“Aww.” She jumped to her feet, turning and expecting her Tio to be right beside her but… he was on the other side of the gap. “Tio Bruno?!”

Mirabel gaped in surprise as he gave her a wave, his face morphing into concern before… he vanished right in front of her.

“Tio Bruno?” but now, she was met with silence.

“Mirabel?!”

Mirabel flinched as a sound of thunder with the roar of her Tia Pepa clambering up the steps towards her, tired but also enraged with anger she had never seen her. Mirabel shrunk away in alarm as another flash of thunder echoed. Rain drenched her Tia’s dress and Mirabel were under the sense she was in very big trouble.

“She was in Bruno’s room!”

Mirabel flinched as Tia Pepa stormed around but she looked to her feet than to her Abuela who she could probably feel the anger pour from her that it made her feel very bad. She didn’t like that. Her lips quivered as she fought back the tears. Why were they angry with her?

“Pepa, calm down.” Abuela spoke firmly, “Take a breath.”

“I am doing my best. I thought his room was off-limits.”

Mirabel’s head turned as she felt a soothing touch on her back, her Mama’s hands pulling her against her so she lent into her side. “She probably didn’t know, Pepa. We’ve barely talked to the kids about…what happened.” Mama’s voice was horse and careful which made Mirabel sad. Why were they talking like this about Tio Bruno?

“Mirabel, why did you go to that room?” Abuela asked.

Mirabel looked up between her eyelashes, fingers knotting into her mother’s skirt. “I… I wanted to see Tio Bruno. He… he promised he’d have lunch.”

“Mi Vida..” Her mother melted into her side, “Your Papi said he left, didn’t he?”

Mirabel nodded weakly, trying to ignore how tense her Abuela's face was and how her eyes bore into her “I know. Papi said he… he had some troubles. I thought…I could help.”

“Mira..” Mama knelt down, “I know…you don’t understand but.. maybe next time you should talk to a grown-up.”

Mirabel looked at her carefully. “But…what about Tio Bruno?”

Mama looked at her confused, looking to be on the verge of tears and holding it back, sparing a look to Tia Pepa, Abuela, and Papa before back to her. “What.. what about him?”

“I saw him. Tio Bruno’s in his room.” She stated because…how could they miss that? Her head craned towards her tia, not noting the color drain from her face or the fear in her eyes, “didn’t you see him?”

Mama’s hands gripped her arms tense, a sharp sound leaving her lips like she had been winded

“What… what did you say?” This was Abuela who rose from her chair like a dragon. Her face wore a look of surprise but like Pepa, there was a lot in them.

“Tio Bruno’s in his room,” Mirabel repeated, not sure what the looks that were passed around. “I saw him…There’s blood. He—he had an accident. Maybe Mama should give him some food.” She suggested before Abuela sat down sharply with fast breath, hands gripping the tabletop tensely

Tia Pepa fell back against the fall, her hand clenching the front of her dress with a look of dread.

Papa rose to his feet as Abuela looked at him. Mirabel watched as she whispered something to him. He nodded tensely and gestured Tio Felix to follow and then they were gone, leaving her alone with her mother and Abuela.

“Julieta, take Mirabel to her room. Now.”

Agustin knew that this trip had to be made. Steps were not his friend and while he knew Mirabel had no idea what she was saying… she had ventured up here. Ventured up here and seemed to think she saw her Tio Bruno.

He didn’t think she was a liar, she was very confused but… he felt dread at the possibility that she was right. Bruno… he had died, hadn’t he? What else would the darkening of the door mean? If he had died… he must have…let his door open. Enough for Mirabel to see inside.

He was horrified at the idea. His daughter finding her Tio’s corpse. He knew and understood but she didn’t. There was blood and injury; maybe she thought he was…napping. His stomach churned at the thought. No.

He had to do this. If he was there, then they had to take him out; give him a proper burial. First, they had to check; it’d take time before they’d be able to move him. God knew what state he’d be; It had been four days. Mirabel didn’t mention a smell so maybe Bruno’s room was just—and hopefully—cold.

“You okay?” Felix asked quietly.

“No. I’m terrified.” He breathed, taking a moment to catch his breath. “He… he could have… we should have checked sooner.”

Felix swallowed, his hand coming to his arm. “I know he was much closer to you… I’m sure that, whatever Mirabel saw, is probably just furniture.”

He was bullshitting, they both knew it. They had no idea yet.

“Let’s hope.”

It took a while and each step brought them closer and closer to the top. Sweat seeped into his shirt and he gaped as they came to a stop at the top. A gap. Mirabel couldn’t have gone inside.

“Oh, thank Dios.” His hand came to his chest. But the problem now was how to cross themselves. Looking around there was nothing in immediate sight that they could use.

“We can’t cross.”

“We can go and get planks, maybe build a makeshift bridge,” Agustin suggested. “We can’t leave without knowing.”

“Maybe…” Felix hesitated, “Look, Maybe we could ask Isabela to make one using vines? As soon as it’s done, we send her away.”

Agustin wanted to glare at such a suggestion. Isabela was eleven… how could they put that sort of pressure on her to do that? But… it would be far easier than dragging planks up and down these steps.

Bitterly, He nodded and let Felix call Dolores to get Isabella.

True to the suggestion, Isabela worked fast and quick to build a solid structure of plant mass and vines stable enough to across before he had her go, with a quiet word of thanks before he took the first steps across.

The feeling of not being wanted here didn’t creep up his spine until he stepped onto the other side, facing the opening of the door. Agustin wasn’t sure if doors changed or anything but what used to be a small passageway then the door was now just the circular door.

“Blood.” Felix breathed, and he was right. Dotted around the doorway were the unmistakable dark droplets and on the frame itself, that… looked vaguely hand-shaped.

Agustin swallowed thickly at what that meant, pushing back the rise of bile and onwards inside.

Inside there was an immediate temperature drop to the darkness that seemed to fill his vision. But he was startled to see not only blood with clear steps in it around, but also the sight of shattered vision tablets. Not only one, but it looked like a shelf-worth had been thrown about in a fit of rage, or grief. Either one of those painted a horrific assumption because Bruno was never the one to do that, not without being emotionally charged. Like his wife, he always tried not to overreact. What had pushed him to do this?

Felix behind him muttering quietly, pushing the door a little more open for better sight; they had no light sources to see.

“No body.”

Agustin was happy to note that; the light touching the room did show it was minimal with furniture and aside from the glass and blood, nothing resembled Bruno’s body. The blood seemed to pool heaviest at the bed and chair. Both empty.

He looked back to the glass, a few shards were covered in blood too but one particular piece caught his attention so he lent down, wincing at the slight stickiness of the once green shard of glass that showed a familiar face on its surface. Tilting it, he frowned as he saw… Mirabel.

Older Mirabel.

A new vision. Agustin shot to his feet, letting it drop into the sand, wiping his hands on his pants, unwilling to think what it was and what it meant.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Let’s go a sweep and go.” He didn’t want to stay here any longer. He already felt like he was being watched and… the whole room felt like it didn’t want them in…as if Bruno himself didn’t want them in.

Neither of them noticed the statue, no longer in it’s first, original position by the bed, standing in almost plain sight of the room's wall decoration with back out towards them and hood up, the darkness concealing him away, hands covering his eyes to mask the glow.

Chapter Text

Bruno wasn’t sure how long time had passed between his new statuses of existence to when he found the means to escape the confines of his statue. Outside his form, Bruno found that… everything outside his statue was not like it used to be, including how to move; he felt limbless and blind…until he realized he was a floating, formless ball of misty consciousness before he forcibly willed himself to his previous image; using his statue as a blueprint to form and move.

It worked, but the hindsight was the fact that he looked…far messier than he had liked but he didn’t have the energy to think of changing; he couldn’t afford to. With a humanoid, ghostly form, came the senses that he had lost touch with.

He could see and hear… but there was no smell and no sense of gravity. His ghostly form was very weightless with how his hair and clothes moved around him and how he moved but he didn’t care; he was already floating an inch off his sandy floor and that…. He did find it kind of awesome in a less intense context.

It had taken him an entire day to work out how to move and to touch. Bruno found himself occupied by plucking out vision tablets he had stored and carefully began to tug them free.

His fingertips found the smooth surface, tugging at it softly but it was almost like it had been coated in oil and thus, slippy. Maintaining a physical touch was frustrating.

‘Come on’ he muttered to himself, groaning as the tablet dislodge from the shelf and onto the floor, shattering all over the place. One of many. A few he put too much strength in and it wound up across the room and shattering in the sand pit.

He straightened up, pursing his lips as his hand came to scratch at his slight beard, getting no familiar sensation that he had expected with the motion but he didn’t focus on that. Non-corporeal and having trouble with picking up physical objects; one problem he should have seen coming…

“Tio Bruno?” The voice startled him, knocking him down a few inches before his head spun towards the door.

The voice… the sound was muffled. Like listening through a door to a conversation happening down the hallway. But the pitch, he recognised.

Mirabel.

Bruno frowned but nonetheless investigated with caution because…why would his dear sobrina come here? He had never tended to allow people here… did he not lock the door? Outside his door, where the rope bridge had been was now a huge expanse; cutting his room off from entry but he felt panic seep into his form to see Mirabel looking over the edge, moving without thought to the other side, his hand pulling her enough from the side before they slipped through her arm.

“Don’t…” Bruno felt a welt of frustration as the effort to speak, to get words audible enough was … so hard. He could hear himself but he could only imagine how quietly he sounded to her. “Too close…”

Small, simple sentences had to be the option for now. He had all the time in the world. But first, he needed to keep Mirabel safe… and calm. God only knew what he looked like now

Her eyes seemed to take him in happily before they widened in alarm.

“Don’t…Don’t….be scared…” He begged softly, but he followed her gaze down before he realised she was now looking at his hands.

“Oh no! You’re hurt.”

Bruno pulled his hands back, shaking his head swiftly to assure her not but she jumped to her feet from the steps. He flittered in front, trying to coax her away from making a run down the steps; not only since it was steep but…how could he explain he couldn’t eat it? She clearly…didn’t quite understand so he knew he had to tread carefully.

“I’m fine!” He was glad she paused, finding a momentary grip to sit her back down.

“How are you fine?” Her eyes were so huge behind her glasses, so filled with concern that it tugged painfully in his chest. Not to mention, she looked to be on the verge of crying.

He held a hand out to her, giving her a soft expression, “Please… no.” he didn’t want her to worry so much

Mirabel’s lips pursed together, clearly thinking softly.  “Papa said you left and… and you were dealing with troubles. I… I thought you left because of me.”

A stab of regret echoed next; he should have probably left a note for her… she had been going through so much. He shook his head, hair floating into his face in the motion before running a hand back. “No, never.” This choice, his choices were his own; he hated the mere idea that she could think…this was any part of her fault.

A faded touch pulled his attention down, not quite solid enough but he could feel webs of energy where her touch had been. He concentrated, closing his eyes to direct more to his hands, as he had earlier in moving his visions before he reached forwards, his hands finally feeling much more as he finally took the solid warmth of her hand before he leant down to kiss it softly to help assure her.

“Spirit. I’m fine.” The first part of his sentence seemed to go straight over her head at her next question.

“Why are you bleeding?”

His glowing eyes flickered to his hands, eyeing the mess for a moment on his answer. “Accident. All fine.”

The five-year-old let out a happier sound, relaxing now. “Do you need help?”

The sentence made him smile. So young and she was so desperate to want to help, regardless of what she could understand. It…felt nice but there was little she could do aside from staying safe and happy… Bruno shook his head, scratching his lip but didn’t think much about it.

“No.”

Mirabel nodded, settling down thoughtfully but he didn’t break the pleasant silence. Now that she knew, he needed to maintain some sort of context…. But no doubt Dolores may or may not have heard them; he wasn’t sure if he was heard; he could barely hear himself. If not, then Dolores probably heard a very one sided conversation.

They needed something better; something more…private. He didn’t want people to think she was nuts and talking to herself after all. He sighed out, the motion relaxing him more than anything

 “I missed you.”

“Lo siento…” He didn’t want her to keep on worrying. Sitting here, talking. Bruno couldn’t deny the soft pulls and tugs he could feel from his statue. He had limits… he had to return, as much as he wanted to stay here and talk to her. Bruno rose to is feet, kissing the top of her head in the process

“Later… better. Tired, Mirabel.” With that, he flittered back to his side of the gap as she whined out, giving a small wave goodbye before the pull filtered him from the visual plane and tunnelled back into the statue.

His statue form, at least living in it how was a little different to what it used to be before turning mineral. It was…unbelievably comfortable. Without maintaining a humanoid form as a spiritual being, his form resumed a mist like structure inside; it was like a sense of deep relief to spread throughout the white marble without that tenseness to remain in shape. Like sitting down after a long day of standing.

Bruno hadn’t considered it before.

But there was only a vague connection to the outside world, through his eyes he could see his room still in a green haze, his skin, at least what used to be skin that was exposed to the air; could feel soft pressures of the breeze. The sounds of his falling sound were oddly comforting as background noise.

It could have been hours, before his pleasant rest was interrupted by sounds of breath and voices, startling him out of his statue and reforming before he recognised the voices;

Agustin and Felix.

Mirabel… He wanted to groan, she must have said something to worry them enough to investigate. He didn’t want that…. He had gotten rid of the bridge for a reason, they wouldn’t need to cross.

Apparently, they would.

Bruno panicked as he fluttered about, looking around; his stone form standing by his bed innocently, eyes glowing in the dark and would probably be the first thing they’d see; the can of worms would be open immediately and… he didn’t know what he’d do; his statue was a visual and potentially terrifying mess! He needed to hide that for now…. Oh why didn’t he pick a better spot to petrify in?

Bruno looked around, his circular room was not in any favours with him… no prober cubbies to duck it in…aside from rocky décor and pillars. Bruno flickered to one, eyeing it up anxiously to see how much could be seen through the dark from the right angel…

He took his chance as he heard Agustin sending Isabela away, and he could feel the connection to the statue, he wondered…

Bruno pulled on that connection, instead of allowing it to pull him back, he pulled it forwards until he felt the sudden release of his form as the statue thudded into place, but he could feel it wasn’t in its original position, but the one he had been in just now. Interesting.

Ahead, he could see the wall in front before he felt the inwards panic that the glow of his eyes would be seen; he could not close them.

Focusing his strength into his statue and not sure if this would work, he willed his hands to move; a low grinding sound of stone echoed as he brought his hands up to his face; like he was moving through thick concrete in slow motion.  Until finally, he stopped, his eyes covered before he relinquished, settling back and hoping that he wouldn’t be found, disconnecting from his hearing; he didn’t want to react to what they were saying.

The atmosphere didn’t change as Alma awaited for the duo to return and though Pepa’s clouds and rain hadn’t stopped in the agonizing wait, Julieta had thankfully put Mirabel to her room. It had been the best choice to keep her son’s disappearance quiet, though she had since seeing the door begged that Bruno had simply left Encanto in the night. Tried to push away the thought of anything alternative.

She didn’t doubt Pepa or Julieta’s jump to the worst conclusion but she’d wait and see. Alma had to. If there was… his body then she’d have to come to terms with that. At least for now, despite what Mirabel was talking about, the truth from an adult mind would validate her claims.

“Pepa, calm down.” Alma reminded as the wind picked up, “we will sort out the situation when Agustin and Felix return.”

Pepa’s cloud did not disappear. “What do we do if he’s in there? What if she’s right?”

“I will make the arrangements,” Alma spoke firmly. She could only imagine how long it’d take to get him….out of the tower. If… he was… she didn’t think she could bare to look at him; she knew who to ask to make it all quick but that didn’t erase Bruno looked far too much like his father. At least she’d get to bury him unlike her beloved husband; she was robbed of that closure after the miracle as formed, sheltered and protected.

Alma turned her thoughts away from that, not willing to feel the slither of pain and doubt on the possibilities. But there was an equal chance Bruno was just being dramatic and had run away. Leaving the family and the Encanto, leaving Mirabel confused and giving them undue unnecessary pain. She’d not allow this to continue. Bruno would have to be a removed topic…. They didn’t need it.

Alma jumped to her feet as soon as she saw Agustin step through the door, Pepa too gasping, hurrying to her husband’s side.

“There’s no body.”

A huge sigh of relief echoed through her chest. No body. Good.

“But…”

Alma’s relief faded into caution in a heartbeat. “What? Tell me.”

Agustin hesitated, “There’s blood. Mirabel wasn’t lying about that but… nothing more than that.”

“And glass. He’s shattered all his vision tablets.” Felix added.

Alma held her hand up, not needing to hear any more. Sure, she could live with that for now. He probably cut himself in his hurry to leave and abandon them all.

“Leave the room how it is, board Bruno’s door shut. I don’t want Mirabel to even try to get back up there...” Sure, she could trust Casita to keep the door shut but… given the lack of light his door had, she wasn’t sure if Casita could try and hold the door shut if it was like that. She didn’t want to take a chance.

“What… what should we tell the kids?” Pepa asked quietly, “I… I don’t..”

“Tell them he left Encanto. We speak no more of him.”

It could have been hours. It could have been days. Bruno wasn’t sure before he felt any strength to leave. Summoning the statue, as he so-called that stunt, had taken a lot out of him. So he settled for exploring, now that it seemed safe for him to do so.

Floating down formlessly, Bruno seeped through his door before reforming again, though he frowned as he noted the new boards across it. Sealing it shut. That had his mother written all over it, if he had to guess. Was she trying to keep him away? She probably knew he had left; was this her signal that he wasn’t welcomed back?

He could remove it later… Maybe.

Outside his room, night had fallen so he was relieved to see very little activity of his family about. His mother’s room was dark so he had to assume she had gone to bed. He did see Julieta’s skirt of the kitchen doorway so he idley watched her as she organised leftovers of the dinner before he saw Agustin’s shoe before he moved on, floating onwards to check in on Mirabel.

He didn’t notice Julieta leave or how her eyes caught his movement but he was gone before her eyes truly set on him as he vanished into the darkness, misting into the nursery before he stood straight.

Mirabel was asleep on the bed, her face flushed pink, a frown in between her eyebrows and swaddled in her blankets up to her neck. But she also looked to be on the verge of falling out so he gently rolled her from her side onto her back.

Mirabel grunted, wiggling distastefully at that but didn’t wake. She looked well. That was good. Bruno made for the door; not wanting to disturb her sleep but he barely got a few feet before she heard a muffled voice, a little louder to his ears before.

“Tio Bruno?”

His head turned in surprise to Mirabel, who, still tangled was awake, her frown deepening but her lips quivered.

“h..” she started, eyes welling up, “how could you leave me!”

Bruno, surprised hurried to her side, his hands coming to hers. “What… What…happened?” The words were still hard but flowed easier. “You…okay?”

“You left me!” She sniffled, “You said later, not forever!”

Bruno frowned but it did dawn on him that… it was not a simple matter of hours, he had been away, was it?

“How… how long?”

Mirabel glared, still breathing heavily. “It’s… it’s been two months!” and with that, she broke into tears, leaving Bruno astonished at the news but he didn’t hesitate to try and hug her, to give her some comfort but Mirabel just slipped through his arms, even in her attempts too until he pulled her pillow to hug instead, rubbing her back at best.

“Abuela won’t let us talk about you… and… and I really missed you and… and Isabela thinks it’s stupid that I saw you, they didn’t believe me and …and Camilo’s being pulled more into town so.. so I don’t get to play with him anymore!” she cried, burying her face into the pillow.

Bruno felt his heart, the metaphorical one, break at her upset. He had been away for so long… he had to find a way to keep track of it; he couldn’t vanish months at a time; that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Lo siento…” He apologised softly, “I… I don’t… didn’t.. know.”

Mirabel’s face didn’t raise but after a few minutes, she raised her head from her pillow to look at him groggily, reaching for her glasses before staring at him again.

“are…” Mirabel hiccupped. “are words still hard, Tio?”

Bruno cocked his head but nodded. Mirabel licked her lips, wiping her eyes before she jumped out of bed, leaving him watching as she ducked under her bed and pulled out a small plank of wood that looked to be the side of one of his vision tablets, on it lay the Spanish alphabet, ‘hola’, ‘adios’ ‘Si’ ‘No’ and there was a separate little piece of wood with a hole in it shaped like a heart clearly taken from an ornament of some sort.

“You can still move stuff, right?” She set it down on the floor, “if… if you’re struggling then this can be another thing to help talk, right?”

Bruno felt a rush of affection for his sobrina… that she had put the thought into this… she must have waited and tried a lot before today to see if he could come. He almost wanted to pull her into a hug but he settled to touching the wooden heart to ‘Si’

Mirabel’s upset face lit up happily.

But as much as Bruno was touched and happy about this… he had to ask the big question here because it would be rather crucial for this to work out in the meantime.

“Mirabel…” he started, fiddling with the board edge, “how…is…your spelling… and reading?” His tone was careful but her excited face faltered after a moment.

“Oh…”  She paused, almost deflating before perking up, “You can help me then?”

Bruno smiled but found himself nodding. He could do that. He’d like that very much.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Bruno found himself enjoying life as a spirit as the years passed. He couldn’t feel the passage of time and only ever seeing it with how Mirabel and the family grew. But that simply did not matter to him as Mirabel was happy to see him when he appeared to her or when she literally rang a bell in his statue’s ear.

His anchor that he had moved from his bed room to his hiding space beside the dining room once Pepa had stopped venturing into it; Mirabel had fixed a lock onto the paintings inside as a precaution when he had shown her the way to it when she was eight. Bruno had to hope Pepa assumed Casita sealed it up.

His hiding space had been transformed as the years to house a desk that Mirabel had made to resonate the same board she had used to help him speak to her privately. From letters, phrases and names had been added as well as a map of Encanto which all in all, covered most conversational basis. His dear sibling Pepa had found Mirabel’s original board and confiscated it but it had lead them to be creative since; the new room as exhibit A.

This was as much as Mirabel’s space as it was his; his anchor in range meant she could draw him out more easily than waiting him out. Or simply wanted to be left in peace and quiet and away from the family. Bruno had been initially surprised when she had carried a new baby into their space after she was ten at night.

Antonio. His new Sobrino.

He had ventured out to the nursery as Mirabel slept many times since, trying to keep little Antonio asleep and content; trying to keep his blankets up; his bottle ready…. He may have dropped said bottle both on the floor and on baby on two separate occasions but his grip with the physical plane had gotten easier to manage now he knew how he worked.

Mirabel of course never trusted him to hold the baby, unless he was settled in his stone arms which was fair game; he’d not trust his ghost to hold a baby either even now.

Bruno had experimented with his spiritual form often in his constant free time. He could touch but could not feel as intently. He could break things with enough force and while his talking was limited, his strength of physical impact to the world came with how emotionally charged he was. It wasn’t often he got emotional.

Times he had was when he had found Mirabel crying, to finally be able to hug her and let her cry into his shoulder when some of the school children or Abuela had pushed her to tears; he had wanted to go give the children a scare—no one would believe them after all—but Bruno had found he couldn’t leave Casita’s range too far; furthest he was able to venture was to the pathway to town but he could feel that if he crossed too far his connection to his anchor would cut and he’d be free eternally.

So Casita it was and Casita it had always been.

Bruno idly floated along the top of Casita’s roof, a formless cloud mostly that was tinged with green in the centre, not concerned with the amount of people settled inside Antonio’s new room. No one to notice and if they did, they’d chalk it up to Pepa like they normally did with clouds of random things.

He couldn’t deny the pride he felt, watching from the shadows as Antonio had received a gift but it was tinged with melancholy for a few reasons; Antonio in his new room meant they couldn’t leave messages with each other; he couldn’t enter magical rooms aside his own from what he could tell (he could rattle between them, of course, like most passages and crawlspaces Casita had).

Mirabel had purposely stirred him from his statue to celebrate given his inability to feel time passing to which he was grateful for, and while Bruno could see this as a new stage for Antonio to move onto, he hoped at least Antonio knew where to find him. He’d support the kid from his plane and the physical just like he had with Mirabel.

He had tried to see Camilo but… that had ended badly in the kitchen that night so he hadn’t dared tried to approach the teen since.

He actively avoided his mother where possible, seeping into the walls when he couldn’t duck behind a corner as he wasn’t entirely invisible but he had a sense of when people were seeing him. He never let people see him for more than a moment; to let them believe he was a flicker of the imagination. Dolores couldn’t hear him when he spoke as a spirit, which was a relief (he had made sure because he did whisper boo behind her head once and nothing so it was a safe assumption)

Being out here, he wasn’t here for Antonio, as much as he was supportive. He had come out for Mirabel. This was not going to be an easy day and he felt she’d need his shoulder to cry on, or to hug; something that she couldn’t get from her parents without worrying them. At least she didn’t want to worry them; he was all for her letting her vent onto her parents for emotional support that he knew Julieta would wholeheartedly give and Agustín too. They were good parents, but that didn’t make the issues any better when they didn’t defend Mirabel as they should have; to mama or Encanto.

Bruno’s concerns came to fruition as he heard the door to the new door open and his dear Sobrina wandered out, deflated and upset as she descended the steps down to the centre.

“Mirabel”. His voice like a whisper on the wind but she turned as he fluttered down and formed.

Her eyes remained lowered and lips pursed together but he had seen this all too many times. How could this keep happening? Why did his sisters not see?

He reached forwards, her hand coming and cutting through his shoulder but he had more success, rubbing her back with a concerned expression. Her hands came up, shifting to various, silent gestures; another thing she had learned from a deaf resident and then taught him when she was 14; when they had no bored on hand but it wasn’t his favourite form of communication nor lasting for him, just convenient when he had formed limbs. Antonio had picked it up quickly, surprisingly.

‘Too much’

Bruno nodded, ‘time for bed? Or board room?’

Mirabel paused, sparing a look to Antonio’s door with a sad gaze. ‘Bed... this day is hard enough.’ She inhaled deeply, trying to put on a brave face. Bruno grasped her shoulder with a nod to lead her away…

Both of them jumped as something clinked loudly, enough to startle Bruno out of his humanoid form to mist but he reformed to see Mirabel examining a fallen roof tile before she gasped out. He fluttered to her side, his eyebrows pulling in to see a new cut down her palm that was lightly bleeding, nothing drastic but she needed it covered or until Julieta gave her something.

Bruno mulled on getting one before he felt…odd. He could feel the flickering connections between him and his statue. His hand came out, grasping at her arm tightly, her head spinning to face him before her eyes widened then; he misted and was sharply pulled back into his statue. He could feel the shaking around, rattling his statue, the cracks crawled along his room but he was suddenly looking through his statue’s eyes, almost feeling the restraint of being trapped inside and unable to move; the forging sensation of being unable to breathe….

He wanted to claw at his throat, to try and breathe in… he couldn’t find his lungs…. But he didn’t have lungs anymore? He barely remembered how he ended up like this… those fragments were gone… why didn’t he have lungs anymore?

Then within a moment, the sensation was gone, and he could feel his exit way release. Swiftly seeping out his statue and headed back towards the courtyard; he had probably panicked her—had to assure her he was fine.

Outside, he was greeted to the sight of Casita’s walls, cracks lining the entire place, the doors flickering, but one by one they turned and stayed on once the cracks had seeped away from their frames and into the foundations behind the surfaces he knew so well.

There was no sign of Mirabel.

Bruno stayed formless, keeping to the shadows, around the nursery, thinking for a moment she had hurried to bed but it was empty but he heard the door to Antonio’s room open and quite swiftly, Mirabel, followed by Abuela hurried out and his stomach dropped as he realised what had happened and now… how that looked to the others.

Mirabel had seen the cracks… but she had gone to get witnesses. But all wouldn’t stand with nothing to show for her concerns. He wanted to hope, beg that his mother would be kind and take her word for it.

Inside, he could feel a bubbling sense of anger as the expression formed on his mama’s face; the stoic look of composure, detailed with disappointment that he knew all too well from his youth. Mirabel had no chance to explain.

“The cracks were—”

Abuela cut her off with a raised hand.

Mirabel’s jaw snapped shut, bringing her bleeding hand close to herself but clenched; concealing it away; hiding it as if Abuela seeing her hurt would only humiliate her further. He could see the blood; that Mirabel was hurt and still… nothing.

Bruno knew people were trickling out and now, Mirabel was in the middle of it, once again in a horrible spotlight of an already hard day. He could already imagine the whispers of the people and their train of thoughts; that Mirabel was trying to take the spot-light from Antonio’s night.

He chose not to hear them, he was more single focused than he used to be and his focus was to his mother and Mirabel. Her eyes were welled with frustration and looked to be on the verge of running.

His mother was speaking, calling to the crowd along the balcony as if nothing was wrong.

“The magic is strong!” She said, turning away from Mirabel a false smile on her lips to satisfy the crowds because who wouldn’t take her word for it “and so are the drinks.”

Bruno shifted around the balcony as his rage increased and though he knew his mother was distracted the crowd but it left the implication of Mirabel drinking, that would be what the town would assume and remember.

Mirabel needed help… he could not let her suffer any longer; she needed more than what he had given more and now… he’d do anything to make sure things would change. The whole family deserved it, Mirabel, more than most.

“Please, Music! A bailar! A bailar!”

Without thinking, Bruno acted, slinking from the Nursery doorway and reformed in time to slam his fists into the wooden bannisters ahead of him which cracked and splintered loud enough to startle Agustín from playing the piano, the candle-lights blowing out behind him, leaving his side in shrouded darkness now.

The noise was loud enough to pull his mama’s attention.

To the other side, the only lights visible was the green glow from his ghostly eyes, lighting only a fraction of his face in the dark but he allowed himself to feel his rage, to embrace it to act and interact in the physical world.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?” For the first time in ten years, his voice wasn’t a whisper on the wind. He was loud. “You hush and you shush and you never think to see the damage that lie in your wake.”

Bruno could feel the eyes on him, the whispers that he could not hear. He didn’t even notice the sharp sounds of his sisters; couldn’t notice them as their husbands hurried to their side, Dolores pulling Antonio back into his room.

He glared heavily but now there was silence as Luisa dropped the piano, a low rumbling in the sky as dark clouds formed but he didn’t care; Mirabel was no longer the centre of attention. Good. Now he had to make use of this; he couldn’t make the family move to a better track if he did this wrong.

“Do you really think so low her to humiliate her in front of the town again?” He echoed, his face almost a snarl as the bannister continued to crumble under his fingertips. “I thought you cared for your familia? Your own nieta?”

He misted out to a cloud, straight down through the balcony’s floor and reformed, stepping into the moon light where the surprised sounds of his audience turned cold and Pepa aguishly wept and thundered.

His clothes floated as did his hair in its usual weightlessness, feet barely touching the ground as his haunted eyes remained fixed onto his mama’s pale face, her face almost haunted. He had not entirely reformed, the edges of his clothes remained misty and there was no mistake that he was quite clearly transparent. It didn’t occur to him what they’d think because it wasn’t about him. The strength he had was fading and he could feel the tugs of his statue wanted to pull him back.

Bruno resisted.

“The cracks are real, mama. They’ve been real for a very long time. Mirabel just wanted to help. Why can’t you see that?!” he thundered, the rain began to filter in. “Don’t you see what the cracks are? They’re a metaphor made reality.”

He floated slowly, Abuela was locked frozen to the spot, her hand a vice grip to the bannister.

“I tried, Mama. I tried so hard…She was only five” He inhaled deeply, finally breaking his gaze to Mirabel; she looked shocked more than anything, shocked he’d do this but it would be worth this. He had to make this an impact to remember. To force this change.

“I gave up my life to keep her safe… but you!” His head turned back to his mother, watching as her eyes grew fearful as he glared once again. “You need to change, Mama.” He could feel the tugs growing more intently, trying to pull him back to his statue but he resisted. “You have to. Your home, your familia…. Mirabel… it starts with you. If you don’t, you’ll lose it all…” He grimaced out, the tugs almost painful and he knew it showed in his expression.

“Your home.” Bruno hissed, his form began to lose structure, misting slowly but he edged closer, floating through Mirabel who gasped sharply as the coldness hit her quickly. “Your miracle.” Another step up. “You’ll lose them like Papa. Like me. And soon, if don’t you change Mirabel will wind…up…just like….. me!”

The last was not a shout but it may has well been as his form dispersed before suddenly, his statue summoned to him, startling the crowds as his mist seeped back and cleared the view to the white statue now the limelight between Abuela and Mirabel with, it’s arms out in its gesture towards himself outwards with bloodied palms exposed outward, almost fresh as it always had been.

It may have been the trick of the light or a lingering touch of Bruno’s mist but behind him, for a moment between the cracks of thunder in the heartbeat; Mirabel was the same smooth marble, her green glasses flashing in the light, the brightness of her blood standing out more than the blue of her skirt or the green rim of her glasses, a face morphed into fear…

Then the second was broken and Mirabel flinched away as thunder struck, completely normal, pulling her attention away to Abuela, the downpour seeping water into her clothes… and then suddenly, Mirabel backed away; Tio Bruno had shown himself.

He had… had brought his statue out. He had never wanted to show his family what he had become; dios…he had done everything he never wanted to! She could see the terror in people’s eyes; he had never been out to scare…Not like this.

Mirabel swallowed thickly, trying to keep the guilt away. She should have just gone to bed… why hadn’t she? She could have push her feelings away and pretended she was fine.

Mirabel sniffed carefully but her body moved before she knew where she was going, thundering up the steps and straight through the door of the nursery. Why did Tio Bruno have to do this just for her? She was not worth what he had chosen to do…

Her eyes clenched shut as she leant back against the door, wanting nothing more than to feel Tio Bruno or her parent’s arms around her; but after tonight, Bruno wouldn’t be able to, not yet…not so soon. He’d be out there on display for the whole town to see!

A spectacle.

She didn’t want that.

Not for him.

He suffered enough in life. She had heard the rumours, even when it was said to not speak of him. Nothing matched to the ghost she knew was her tio. Worn down, tired and full of care he couldn’t give to anyone else but to her or Antonio.

She hoped he could understand… Antonio knew, so he had to have some understanding of what Tio Bruno had done.

Mirabel flinched as her door was opened suddenly.

Chapter Text

Despite the snowstorm that raged outside, it felt like her insides had gone numb and her lungs felt void as if she had been winded with a blow to the gut. Her knees under her protesting and her the skin across the back of her hands did with the dual grip she had on the banister poles, unable to tear her gaze from the solitary figure between her Sobrina and mama.

A face she hoped she never saw in such a state; a person she hoped had simply left Encanto than to have done the unthinkable. Pepa knew the facts had been shoved in front of her face before… after but she had pushed the idea away.

Bruno was many things but he was never a danger to others and certainly not to himself. Any comment could have been made out of anger.

I wish I was dead.

Pepa was vaguely aware of the family emptying casita but didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Her husband’s grip returned to her arm once the Casita was cleared, trying to get her to stand from where she had sunk down. Trying to get her to release her grip on the banister poles until casita rattled them from her hand and strong hands pulled her from the floor and before she knew it, Felix had set her down onto the bed, arms around her.

Her breath became rages and her eyes seared as she squeezed them shut.

No

She didn’t…

Bruno…

He couldn’t be dead.

“Mi Amor..” Felix pulled her against her, even as the snow set in overhead.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Bruno was supposed to have left. He wasn’t supposed to have… to have…

Pepa broke down into tears, her mind churning with the flurry of emotion, the grief she had sealed away because she thought Bruno was just being dramatic like he always did was now very much real and roaring to the surface.

She never thought he would…actually do it. Guilt clawed at her throat, sitting like a weight. Pepa had called him out many times in their youth… that he was too weak to stand his ground, to let the bullies tease him and call him names… and that didn’t change as they got older, even as she and Julieta tried… but he didn’t do anything. She had hated him for allowing that. Clearly, he hadn’t been too weak to follow through with his threat and now, she hated him for that too.

“Tio Bruno’s in his room,”

The words from a young Mirabel had echoed often, chilling her stomach that had given her nightmares the first few weeks following her brother’s…disappearance. Her nightmares had plagued her with the nightmare of little Mirabel holding onto her dead brother’s body, confused by what she was seeing, so innocent in the face of death.

The real Mirabel didn’t understand her statement and there was a mercy to the fact Felix found no body, there was the buried fear that Mirabel had been right.

Had she seen his ghost?

Felix’s voice continued, a door opening before he seemed to speak quietly to the person who had entered but Pepa paid them no mind in her spiral.

This wasn’t supposed to happen… not today.

Mirabel…

Fear shot through her next. The glimmer of Bruno’s ghost had shown her a horrifying possibility… Bruno had come with a warning.

Warning for Mama.

Warning about the home…

About…

“Mirabel!” Pepa jumped to her feet, a hurricane wrapping around her before she shot to the door and out.

“Pepa?!”

She brushed past her sister… Agustín as he tried to pull her back to reality… trying to not see the statue that had her mother frozen to the spot before she shoved her way into the nursery, startling her Sobrina on the other side.

Two strides in, Pepa’s hand rose, cupping Mirabel’s face and the warmth she felt was the only thing that offered her any sense of comfort.

The echo had been brief in Bruno’s take. Bruno was dead. Mirabel was not. She would not let her die too. Not… become like him. Even with the second of seeing her…stone white and still—No.

“Tia Pepa?” Mirabel’s eyes were filled with tears, afraid almost but Pepa pulled her into an awkwardly sudden hug, but there was a sharp hiss of pain from the girl that touch an ebb of fear into her gut that Pepa pulled back before she realised… blood.

Her stomach churned, the red staining faintly against Mirabel’s embroiled blouse but now against her orange dress.

“I saw him…There’s blood. He—he had an accident. Maybe Mama should give him some food.” 

The memory was faint but she felt the same fear now. Her eyes searched for injuries; where she could have been bleeding from; nothing to her chest or abdomen, but Mirabel’s hands were clenched as if she was trying to hide it.

Her hand came to her arm, twisting her wrist but thankfully, there was no cut across her delicate flesh… the blood seeped from between her fingers.

“What happened?” Pepa croaked, her hands coming to unravel her fist but Mirabel pulled back, withdrawing her limbs.

“Corazon…” Julieta's voice echoed and before she knew it, her sister shoved her out the way and straight for her daughter but Pepa found she didn’t care.

The world felt like it was in a haze, the moments between breaths were almost too far between and yet, Julieta couldn’t bring herself to break out of it as she stared transfixed to what was left of Bruno on the steps

She had known, by her gut with the evidence in front that her brother had died. He was dead. Bruno was dead. Her youngest triplet brother…

Denying it would have been easier to cope in the long run; Mama and Pepa had done just that and cut the mention of him away from the family. She couldn’t bare to do that because that meant that they were ignoring of why Bruno killed himself. She knew she had failed him as a sibling. She had tried but it was never enough. She was never enough.

Julieta had mourned and healed, but now all that pain had resurfaced; she had hoped and begged his soul had found peace with their papa in heaven and now was the truth. His soul had never left. Things made sense now; she had seen flickers but she hadn’t thought much of them aside from her imagination and had forgotten. All resurfaced now.

His ghost never left.

What did that mean for them now?

Julieta couldn’t understand the pale statue, but she understood the blood quite easily on his ghost’s hands and clothes. Mirabel had mentioned that day she went into his room that her brother had been hurt… she had never dreamed of seeing him in such a state. Because then… it would make the loss so much more real.

Agustín’s arm wrapped around her and Julieta was vaguely aware of the tears down her eyes, the buzz of talking behind her but it seemed that Luisa, Camilo and Isabela were taking control, ushering people from Antonio’s room and down the side steps to not pass the white form.

Her hands gripped the bannister, tightening as Agustín tried to coax her to move, whispering softly into her ear but she didn’t hear him.

When she blinked, her mind was filled with the flickers of the statue's aftermath; to see Mirabel standing stone…

Julieta did not understand the statue, but her daughter; the hint that she might—

“No.” she moved sharply, pushing her husband away and before she knew it, she burst into the nursery and shoved aside her sister for her daughter and shamelessly clung on; making sure her daughter was alive; feeling her breath against her neck her heart hammering..

“Mami?”

“Are you okay, Mija?” She pulled back but the blood now stained across her child’s seemed to stir a new feeling in her gut before she pulled Mirabel’s hand into better light. “What happened?”

“It… it was an accident,” Mirabel mumbled, her hand opening up, exposing a deep cut across her palm. “I… a single fell.. that’s when I saw the cracks… so I ran to get you and…” She looked to the doorway; out to the courtyard as her explanation. Luisa’s tall frame and Agustín’s were blocking it most but Julieta knew what she meant. “I’m sorry.”

Julieta shook her head, “No. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You believe me?” the doubt in her daughter’s voice was heart breaking.

“Yes.” Both her and Pepa spoke but Julieta was loudest. “Come, let me get you something to heal that.”

Alma felt numb and frozen with her mouth run dry and she was certain she was close to fainting… if it hadn’t been the hammering in her chest of her heart that kept her grounded. The rain poured and soaked into her dress and felt ice cold on her skin as it soaked through…and yet she couldn’t move.

The…thing that stood before, a dressed statue of her son but it was the blood that stood out; igniting faint memory of her husband’s blood to her nose as he was cut down. Bruno’s blood that stood out against the whiteness of…stone.

The ghost has summoned it; locked into his last posture; face contorted in painted rage she had never seen on her child’s face before and it frightened her.

The rain did not seep into his clothes or wash the blood away; like it was a part of the cruel display. Forcing them to see what had become of her lost son.

“Let me help you.” Dolores’s voice echoed, her hand gently trying to get her to relent her grip on the banister. Alma relented only after Dolores stood in her line of vision; breaking her eye contact with the statue that she found the strength to move.

Alma did not allow for further aid as she turned; glad to see the casita emptied from the townspeople but her feet led her to her room quickly enough. Her hand plucking up the candle in one hand straight from it’s pride of place, but in the other, she fished out the locket that held her lost husband inside.

Alma didn’t do much of anything for a long while as she tried to maintain her composure in the shaking aftermath of what should have been a wonderful night.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this… it wasn’t supposed to have…

Bruno.

Her breath caught, feeling a shiver down her spine as the memories replayed; something she had barely remembered saying because she had pushed that part of the argument away.

“If you leave this house, if you leave this family, you’re dead to me”

Alma had known she had said a lot in anger but her last conversation with her son had been a haunted one. One that lived in the back of her mind when her mind… thought back to her losses. She knew how it sounded after it had left her lips because she had set up an ultimatum for her son: the family or himself. Bruno was never that selfish; she knew he’d chose the family and he knew that too. Yet, his words after her chilled her.

“I wish I was dead.”

That was when she realised the implication of his own life on the line; that he’d take death over leaving… even over the family if pushed. Her own ultimatum had been so clearly twisted away from her intent now that she reflected more deeply.

Why had she said that? She had far better control over her anger to not let such a statement slip again but why had she let it slip out so carelessly back then? Because she was angry was not a good reason. Alma knew the reason. Fear. Fear to let him go.

Fear to make him stay.

She had tried back then not to feel that slither of terror at his dark door; clinging simply to the fact there had been no body to recover to offer than anything to confirm his death. Vanished, missing… disappeared. All acceptable because it was not death. Bruno had threatened to leave, so that was what she had chosen to focus on in the decade since; it lessened the weight of guilt that came swinging onto her shoulders now.

Bruno had left.

Not in the way she had wanted him to. He…had—

In her mind, she could see his ghostly form, weightless in his entirely as if he had drowned. Alma could feel her hands grip tighter onto her locket, feeling the shake to them as the memory was…her husband, his life stolen in a single swipe and his body washed away.

Bruno had left.

Made sense why there was no body; he must have made it around the mountains that night to that…that river. 10 years for time and nature to bury him as like his father had, rather than her and the family.

He died… but he didn’t leave.

Alma had no understanding of why and she doubted she could. It all felt too much, that her mind was spinning but the constant grief had resurfaced stronger, adding new weight to the loss Pedro’s absence had given her. The reality of the situation was now hitting her for the first time in 10 years, but it was more than just the ten years of grief that had resurfaced.

Alma squeezed her eyes shut, but the blood of her son remained ever-present in her mind on his ghostly body; his skin and clothes. Blood of her husband, blood of her son….

She had only ever wanted to keep her husband’s sacrifice safe; to be worthy of it. To keep her family close and to help what their miracle had created; the Encanto. A safe haven.

Looking back, Alma couldn’t see when exactly it all went wrong. The family had been fine, Casita had been whole and they had all fine. The realisation followed swiftly.

Mirabel’s ceremony.

That had been where she realised when things changed, a domino effect that had her pulling her family in tighter, to keep things in order to ensure they didn’t lose it or to lose anyone else like she had lost Pedro. With no body as proof, she let herself believe he had left and clung on tighter… to bury that pain.

Keep things close. Keep them safe.

A statement she kept to justify her actions that now, in hindsight, she realised was not worth the cost.

Her son was dead.

She had pushed him too far with a gift she knew he hated. She hadn’t tried to see his view on the matter. Hadn’t dissuaded the rumours from the town because she thought he’d ignore that; he simply didn’t leave Casita instead and no one came for him for visions. She never thought to question much to ask why but…she had been greatly disappointed in him. He had so much potential he was wasting.

Alma never saw him hurting.

He rarely fought back, and when he did, it was with reason. Now she knew. He was trying to ask her to stop… so he didn’t have to—

She let the tears fall now, unhindered as the grief resurfaced.

She had done this.

Her son was dead because of her.

Because she pushed too hard because she did not listen. Not to him, not to her daughters…

“I gave up my life to keep her safe…”

The ghost had been cuttingly clear but now, Alma realised that this was no longer just about Bruno. He killed himself with purpose, but with no note.

Keep her safe.

“Mirabel.” Her throat felt tight but now, she realised he had found a cause; a vision perhaps. One that had led him to his grave; taking it with him. To protect Mirabel.

From her.

The way the ghost moved, hitting a nerve with each world. Ghostly and haunted eyes brimming with rage…with pain as he spoke.

“Your home. Your miracle. You’ll lose them like Papa. Like me. And soon, if don’t you change Mirabel will wind…up…just like….. me!”

Alma knew this was not a threat. It was a fact. If she continued…  No. She couldn’t bear it. Not another one. Not another of her family… she needed to act. Needed to make sure Mirabel didn’t…follow his path to the grave. To make sure she didn’t hurt herself.

She would not let Bruno’s actions be in vain. She just had to pray to his lingering soul, to Pedro and to god. Bruno deserved better; his soul needed to be free than ratting and caged to this plane; he should be with his father… she could see to that as well.

“Bruno. Pedro, forgive me…” she whispered softly.

Chapter Text

Antonio was annoyed as Dolores and Camilo lingered at the door, both talking quietly to each other, or at least Dolores updating on what she was hearing from outside but at least his animals were with him. Antonio wanted to go out and find Mira.

He needed to assure her that he didn’t blame her for what happened; Tio Bruno coming back to the town wasn’t supposed to happen; Tio Bruno had made it clear he wanted to be a secret… but he supposed Tio Bruno had his reasons; he knew he was protective of her because who else aside from her and him would he show himself to. From the weather, it didn’t sound like Mama was happy about it either.

“I want to see Mirabel” Antonio complained, his fingers stroking through Parce’s soft fur, feeling the jaguar purr gently at the touch.

“She’s with Mama and Tia Pepa right now.”

Antonio frowned but didn’t complain. “Can you let me know when they can leave so I can see her?”

Camilo moved away from the door, coming to sit next to him on the forestry floor though eyes Parce softly. “Can I?” Looking a little nervous to his new friend.

Parce let out a noise of confirmation to him before Antonio nodded the jaguar’s approval and Camilo began to stroke his fur softly. Antonio pouted still.

“You know, this has got to be one of the best birthdays you’ll ever have,” Camilo stated bluntly.

Antonio frowned, “How?”

“Our dead uncle comes back from the beyond!” he stated, “Like… that will never happen again. Sure, I get that it’s probably going to mess the family up but… no one’s gonna be forgetting it.”

“We shouldn’t let this…event overshadow Antonio’s birthday, Camilo.” Dolores reprimanded softly, wandering over to sit beside him “Why don’t you take some food and go to your bedroom, Camilo.” Nodding to the plates Tia Julieta had brought. Most guests hadn’t touched their plates and now most laid scattered about his new room.

Camilo pouted, “but you’ve got all the gossip! I want to know what’s going on.”

Dolores shook her head. “The emotional Band-Aids been ripped off. Nothing being said is…good gossip, Camilo.”

Camilo groaned though seeing he wasn’t getting much more, he picked up a few plates of food and left. Dolores didn’t move though her shoulders slumped after he left.

“You okay?”

Dolores nodded. “All of this…brought back bad memories.”

Antonio frowned, “bad memories?”

Dolores nodded. “I… I was eleven when he died. I had…a good few memories of life with him and...after him.” She swallowed thickly. “I... I’ve never told Mami and Papi of that day. When…Mami went into denial I thought it’d be best...not to say anything.”

“Dolores, what are you talking about?” Antonio reached forwards, taking her hand that was scrunched up in her skirt. She opened her mouth before—she stopped, her jaw snapping shut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

Antonio frowned at her. “I can handle it, Hermana.”

Dolores shook her head. “It’s been ten years. I still can’t.”

Antonio wanted to ask; to press because he wanted to help but… she looked so sad. Antonio got to his feet, then quite promptly hulled her into a hug, headfirst into his chest, arms wrapping around her neck, she squeaked in surprise.

“If… you don’t tell me, talk to Papi.” He suggested, “Papi is more understanding than me.”

It took a moment before Dolores pulled herself free, licking her lips with a soft shrug. “I’ll see…but thank you.”

“Can you read me a story before I go to sleep?”

“Of course.”

Antonio brightened up and helped his Hermana up. That would be a nice end to the day. A good story. Even if it was unlikely he’d talk to Mira tonight, tomorrow would have to work better.

Felix was by no means stupid by the events of the night. From a wonderful day celebrating his son’s birthday and gift, it had been completely overshadowed by a ghost. Felix couldn’t bring it to himself to blame Mirabel for it either. No one could have seen the day turning into this.

Mirabel certainly didn’t but there was a lot that no one had expected; he felt for her mostly…but he certainly could feel the fear at the prospect they’d lose someone else… but, something about Mirabel’s reaction bugged him that he couldn’t place it.

Felix set around the waterproof sheeting over the bed and buckets of their room since now he had the time than before; something they’d need when he could collect Pepa from Mirabel and Julieta. He knew not to interrupt his wife’s needed assurance that nothing bad would happen to Mirabel. He’d check on her himself tomorrow at breakfast.

With Pepa, had held her through her storms, hurricanes and snow when grieving Bruno’s loss. Today would be no different. While she had doubts the first back then, he had a gut sensation that spelt that Bruno hadn’t just disappeared. He had been in that room, saw the blood and those red stained steps. It only verified that he was truly gone from their plane. Bruno tended to clean up after himself, to spare the worry of his sisters.

The fact he hadn’t said enough.

He grieved, as hard as Bruno had been to get out of his room as much as the guy hated that space, to have evening nights with him and Agustín. Felix hoped that they could have been enough for him to surface the weight life had given to him. He still felt the guilt of not checking in on him sooner; they could have caught him sooner. Now, he expected worse. Her fears were realised and her loss was real.

He tacked the last sheet down heavily before he surveyed the room, but he had done this enough times to see the important stuff was covered. Their room was designed to drain and dry quickly but that didn’t always include their bed or personal belongings.

Soon enough, the door opened and his wife flurried in and he pulled her straight into his arms, letting her crumple into them before she began to weep into his neck; outside he could hear the rain against the glass and the wind battling the frames, his hand running strokes to soothe her the best he could. Once again, he got them back onto the bed, the plastic crinkling a little under them as they sat and the patters of rain echoed as well.

In her ear, he spoke soft comforts to let her cry, to let her vent. He could only imagine the hope she had held onto for so long… only for that to be broken. He was fine to let the rain stay if it meant for her to finally process this. Even though she had no words now, Felix didn’t let her go.

It was hours before Pepa fell asleep in his arms, despite them both being wet through; the storm outside sounded softer as Pepa’s connections weakened in her slumber; plenty of time for the excess rain water to seep away before she woke so he didn’t care too much as he pulled out a fresh dry blanket and tucked it around her before he swiftly changed into something dry before there was a soft knock at the door.

Felix checked to see Pepa still asleep before he poked his head out to see Dolores standing outside.

Her fingers fiddled with her other hand, looking nervous and uncertain before he relaxed, his hand coming to hers.

“Are you okay, Dolores?” of course, now he realised he’d have to talk to his children… Dolores and Isabela, even Luisa had more memories of their uncle from…before. The other, three had been too young to remember him.

“I..” Dolores’s frowned uncertainly, “I don’t know.”

Felix stared at his eldest for a moment longer then sighed out, “Let’s go to your room to talk, Mija.”

Dolores nodded though was surprisingly fast in her steps as she brushed past Camilo’s room and opened her door quietly. Felix shut the door after him before he watched his daughter move two of her chairs and sat down quite abruptly.

That was enough to tell him something wasn’t right, not that it had been before but there was a relief that Dolores wanted to speak to him about it. He did everything he could to keep close to his children should they need to speak to him no matter how old they were.

“Is this about tonight?” He started, seeing as she seemed lost on where to start.

Dolores nodded.

“Tio Bruno?”

The way her eyes darted up to him sharply told him the answer.

Felix sighed out softly. Once again offering a hand out to her which she took.

“I knew he died.” She whispered, fingers tightening around his, “I… I knew for years… I wanted to say something but…”

Felix tugged softly, “I knew he died too, Mija. We both know your mother just… went into denial about the possibility.”

Dolores hesitated, biting her lip. “Papi…. Tio Bruno’s room wasn’t soundproof.”

Felix frowned but it took a full thirty second for him to suddenly realise what she meant; he knew her room had some sound proofing; often to limiting her hearing to casita than to the entire Encanto when she was in there. Casita only fully muffled rooms (he hoped) like his and Pepa’s room when they were loving each other far more than usual and that was because they asked; Pepa had been the one to find out but he doubted that Bruno truly knew that feature.

Dolores knew before anyone else.

She had heard him.

Felix rose to his feet, pulling her into his chest before she began to cry softly, his hand rubbing at her arm.

“Whatever you heard, you were a young girl and couldn’t have stopped him if you tried and that’s not your fault.” He spoke, kissing the top of her head. “None of this is your fault, okay?”

“I…” She croaked, “I wanted to tell you…”

“I know why you didn’t.” Felix rocked softly. “Your gift comes with its burdens.” He knew very little of what she heard, she had become good at managing it. The books she had weren’t for reading, but for her to spill what she had heard to stop her mind from becoming overwhelmed with the knowledge of people, secrets and activities she wasn’t supposed to know. He firmly respected his daughter’s need to vent in such a manner; to never even touch one of her books without her permission.  He wasn’t about to start now either. It was her coping method she trusted. “I do wish I could do more to help with its heavy load.”

“Can I tell you what I heard?”

Felix wanted to say no; to hear how his brother in law…hurt himself irritably was a thing of horror. But.. he never had to hear it live; never had to endure the guilt she was no doubt feeling for staying quiet. She needed to speak. He’d not deny her that.

“If you want to Mija.”

Dolores sniffled softly, pulling back though staying leaning against his side. “He…he was still angry from the argument with Abuela when he got to the top of the tower. He did…hurt himself by accident… then he got sad…” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “He prayed to Abuelo...”

Felix’s form stiffened a little as she spoke, but he didn’t interrupt or stop rubbing her back.

“He’s never prayed to Abuelo before… saying he felt stuck; he couldn’t stay here but he couldn’t leave… he wanted a way out.” Dolores choked up at the end, her hand tightening. “I... I didn’t understand… not until he went quiet.”

Felix pulled her back into his chest, letting his shoulder muffle her sounds but he didn’t let her go but that left one thought that stood out from an otherwise disturbing story was that… Bruno hadn’t left his room at the time of his death.

Why hadn’t they discovered his body when they went up there?

Mirabel had wanted to go to bed. Go to bed, let everyone calm down and then see about Tio Bruno to remove his statue from the staircase before the others get up in the morning but Tia Pepa had taken a while to leave once she had been assured she was fine. Mami and Papi, were very different and it took more help from the latter to convince Mami she was fine and that she just wanted to sleep. She took the arepa to heal the cut but Mirabel tried not to think of the white thread-like scar that remained in its place but she hoped her mother didn’t notice as she went to clean up the blood while papi led her back to their room.

That didn’t stop Luisa from picking her up and leading her away from the nursery to her room with her night gown in the other hand.

“Luisa?”

“Sleepover, tonight.” Luisa decided, putting her down and handed her her night dress and sauntered off to find her own but disappeared from her room altogether.

Mirabel stared after her for a moment, looking back to the door out but decided to change quickly; she barely remembered the last time she had a sleepover in another room, let alone Luisa’s. in fact, it had been a long time she had…properly even held a conversation with her.

It was an odd sensation.

Welcoming…. But odd.

But she had to assume that…Luisa was just looking out for her. Tonight had thrown everyone off. Luisa wouldn’t just be satisfied by words; a night by her side would probably soothe her fears. Mirabel would allow that, for her sister’s comfort. It was only for one night after all.

Mirabel folded up her clothes and found herself a lost to where she’d sleep through her eyes washed around the room; like Antonio’s new room, it was bigger on the inside; all around there was different exercise equipment designed for Luisa, a huge bed at the far side beside a desk and large wardrobe. There was also another set of doors that Mirabel noticed was tucked away out of immediate sight. She peered at it curiously but didn’t reach for the handle, even if her hand itched to open and see.

Luisa reappeared, but Mirabel blinked in surprise to see her mattress being tugged through the door easily; her pillow and covers tucked under her other arm.

“There we go.” Luisa placed the mattress down beside the bed, tossing the covers and pillow down before turning to look at her, “Please wake me up if you need something.”

Mirabel’s shoulders relaxed, her heart tugging at the concern that laced her tone, reaching forwards, her foot catching the mattress edge and almost wound up sprawling face-first if Luisa’s strong hands didn’t catch her.

“oof..” a sheepish expression crossed Mirabel’s face, adjusting her glasses. Mirabel snorted a little though Luisa realised her with a fond look but Mirabel surprised her by wrapping her arms around her chest.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Luisa.” She promised, “I’ll be fine.”

Luisa frowned at her after a moment, “Fine isn’t good enough, Mira.”

Mirabel’s lips pursed, the words of retort on her lips because… well she wasn’t the only one just ‘fine’. Luisa didn’t have much to say when she looked just as tense. But ultimately, Mirabel decided not to comment. Not now. Not after what happened. Luisa was just trying to help.

“Let’s go to bed.” Mirabel smiled, patting her back before pulling back and slunk down onto her mattress, smiling at Luisa as she bobbed up and down for a moment.

Luisa looked conflicted but after a moment, she sat back onto her own bed.

“Buenas noches, Mira.”

“Buenas noches.” Mirabel smiled, taking off her glasses and setting them aside before the lights turned off, her smile vanishing quickly as she rolled onto her side, her back towards her sister and a new frown taking place, her fingertips touching over the white scar remaining on her palm, not sure what this could mean….

She’d have to talk to Tio Bruno if she could stir him from his statue.

Chapter Text

It had been Luisa’s snoring that had woken her up first. Mirabel wanted to wonder why Luisa was napping in the Nursery with her before the stream of memories flooded in. Mirabel scrambled up in shock; shoving her glasses on in the same motion—almost poking herself in the eye.

Bruno.

Her eyes flickered around. Luisa’s room. Luisa… conked out on her bed like a dramatic Hercules with her hair puffing out in all angles; it was odd to see her with her hair down. Mirabel was so used to seeing her with her hair up—nope, she was sidetracking!

Bruno had shown himself; pulled his statue out into plain sight of everyone… all for her. It made her heart clench because now… the whole family knew of his fate. She didn’t remember much of Bruno of when he was alive, despite his insistence over the last decade he wasn’t dead when she asked but she had simply chalked that up to denial. For her, he had always been a spirit. Helping her… Helping Antonio too but she knew he was mostly about for her.

He had let so much slip last night; more than what he implicated in his fate in their talks and she felt guilt that came with the reservation. He never said it was her fault. He knew something and hadn’t let her know… so what could he have been protecting her from to allow himself to take his action without regret.

Her fingers absently trailed down the faint scar, trying to take a breath. She was going to have to talk to him. Privately. She pushed off the blankets and tiptoed from Luisa’s room.

Outside, it was wet but there was no rain, the smell of rain filled her nose and it’s coolness inside Casita was unmistakeable, the clouds lingered in the sky too and she could feel the rain set to fall. Party decorations and the mess from last night hadn’t been touched and Casita’s shutters were closed. There was no sign of anyone else being up.

Not her mother… not Abuela and certainly not Tia Pepa.

Outside and dry as a bone; Tio Bruno’s statue stood in his last position; Casita hadn’t moved the steps at all.

Mirabel glanced to all the doors, carrying on down, pausing at Antonio’s door; wondering for a moment if she should disturb him before opting against it. Her bare feet carried her down towards the statue, a surprising bubble of nervousness resting in her stomach as she came to a stop in front of him.

“Tio Bruno?” Her fingers touched over his stone cheek; the coolness now was chilling though it made her hand tingle enough, pulling back and flipped her hand around.

In the morning light, the scar was white and shimmered in the sun. It wasn’t like it was a new piece of skin that was just paler; it was opaque white. Like Tio Bruno’s statue. Her stomach tightened, fingers curling up into a fist.

“Casita, can you move him?” Mirabel asked.

The tiles around the steps wiggled and the steps up tilted but the two steps with each of Bruno’s foot remained still. Her shoulders dropped. Casita couldn’t move him… was it possible that if Casita couldn’t, Luisa might not?

Her lips pursed, scurrying back up the steps to change, grabbing her clothes from Luisa’s room first before she dug about for some gloves but… she found none. Isabela did have makeup but none that’d match her skin tone well enough. Isabela took after Abuela while she took after Mama. Also, Mirabel didn’t think Isabela could take well to raiding her make-up this early in the morning.

Mirabel mulled on her options as she got herself ready for the day, before ‘being creative’ would have to work. Her mother still wasn’t up so Mirabel began to set up the dining table inside for breakfast as she normally did, her eyes turning to Bruno’s statue every so often when she began to set bowls to make breakfast. Casita helping to get the fruit and boards and disposed of the waste as she set stuff down.

“Mirabel?”

“Down here, making breakfast.” She called back to Luisa.

Five minutes later, Luisa appeared in the kitchen, mostly dressed with platting her hair and tying it up into its usual bun with red ribbon but it wasn’t until she saw her that her shoulders relaxed.

Mirabel was glad that she was busy kneading dough as Luisa began to help.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Mirabel asked, trying to keep the air between them light.

“Surprised I fell asleep,” Luisa remarked, coming over to set up the table and began to sort out some of the fruit. “You?”

“Like a log.” She shrugged, “Did you know you snore.”

Luisa paused for a moment, her ears flushing pink as she set the bowl into the centre. “Now I do.”

“So, I’m going to assume La Casa Madrigal is going to remain in Casita for today.”

“I don’t know.” Luisa admitted, “I mean, it would be…respectful for us to have the day off.”

“You could also do with a day off.” Mirabel knew Luisa worked hard; she could do with taking the opportunity this aftermath had in…finding something to do for herself? Mirabel wanted her to do that. “I’ve never seen you have a day off for that matter outside a family emergency.”

Luisa remained quiet, picking up handfuls of firewood and began to throw it in though her ears remained pink.

For a few minutes of working, the sounds of sizzling as she placed the arepas to the stove, Luisa with her knives as she cut the veg into a pan to heat up.

With the arepas done, Mirabel hurriedly began to search for the pastry to get the empanada ready though other hands of Dolores and Camilo appeared, helping with the set up, Dolores hitting Camilo in the arm as he nibbled as he went.

“I’m hungry!”

“Get the leftovers from yesterday onto the table.” Dolores spoke, “nibbles on those if you can’t wait for the rest of the family.”

Mirabel smiled softly.

“Antonio get away from that!”

Dolores’s raised voice made her jump, startling Isabela who had just turned the corner in before heads turned to see Antonio beside Tio Bruno’s statue, his hand reaching for his ruana but Dolores moved quicker than any of them and yanked her brother away and began to carry him towards the dining room.

“It’s fine!” Antonio whined, “He’s not going to hurt me!”

“I don’t care, you’re not to go near that thing until our parents say so.” Dolores hissed, her lips pursed and she pushed him to sit down into his chair, animals from his room trailed after him though the jaguar seemed to give Dolores a displeased look, but Mirabel wasn’t going to judge the look of an animal. Should she be worried he’s trusting a predator far too easily? He was five after all.

Mirabel exchanged a look with Luisa.

Soon, other family members trickled in, her father guiding her mother more as she looked exhausted; dark rims under her eyes, a redness to them and her hair was down; no longer in it’s bun. It was shocking to see her mother like this. Mirabel set down her bowl and immediately pulled her mother into a hug.

After a few words of assurance, Agustín tugged Julieta to her seat and began to load their plates. Felix came down alone. The absence of Abuela didn’t get unnoticed or mentioned for the matter though the air remained heavy as Mirabel joined and started to eat.

She kept her grip on the fork; keeping the risk of her scar being seen down; that was the last thing she wanted to make the air different though Mirabel vaguely noticed the adults were picking more than eating. Every so often, Agustín was prodding Julieta to have a forkful of her food.

All in all, a very awkward meal.

Which was interrupted by an innocent statement.

“Papi, Dolores won’t let me near Tio Bruno’s statue.”

The cutlery paused as the air chilled but Antonio was oblivious as he glowered into his empanada. Felix’s fingers tightened onto his glass, eyes flicking to the doorway.

“Err.”

Julieta’s hand slipped from her cutlery altogether, withdrawing her hands to under the surface and leaning more into her husband’s side, eyes welling up.

“She seems to think he’ll hurt me but I think she’s wrong and my friends don’t think he’s dangerous at all.” Antonio continued. “So why can’t I?”

“Antonio,” Mirabel spoke first, “That’s Abuela’s decision” but she spoke while signing ‘not now, okay?’, making it look like she was gesturing a little more dramatically than usual.

Antonio looked up at her but set his cutlery down, his expression grumbled but she recognised the subtlety in his sighing as he mumbled out loud about what his friends were going to eat for breakfast. ‘talk to him later?’

Using one hand Mirabel signed ‘Si’ against her glass as she lifted it to her mouth.

Thankfully, no one caught on but finally, halfway Abuela seemed to arrive and sit down without a word until after she had a long sip of coffee though Mirabel kept her eyes down as she felt her lingering looks.

“Mirabel,” Abuela spoke

Mirabel’s eye flickered up to her Abuela for a moment. “Si?”

Abuela paused for a moment, lips pursing. “What happened last night before…” She didn’t finish, her lips almost quivering but she seemed to suppress that immediately. “The cracks?”

Mirabel picked at the pastry with a soft sigh. “I was…about to go to bed after you took the photo with Antonio in his new room.” Leaving out of course her meet up with their resident spirit given they didn’t know about that. “Cracks started from the courtyard and spread up the steps, the doors and… to the candle. All the doors flickered and I thought the candle was about to go out.”

“You were alone? Did anyone else see the cracks?” Abuela pressed.

“Shouldn’t we be asking why cracks can come and go so spontaneously here?” Mirabel spoke with quiet frustration of what her Abuela was focusing on. “Tio Bruno said the cracks were a metaphor.”

Abuela’s face blanked tensely but there was a twitch in her face at the mention of his name. Her mother’s breath caught, Agustín’s hand coming to rub at her back.

“Maybe he means the family?” Antonio piped up, “Casita is part of the family too.”

“The cracks have been part of casita for years.” Dolores piped up softly, the stares shifting to her, making her squeak.

“Go on?” Abuela spoke, focusing away onto her second eldest granddaughter to Mirabel’s relief.

“Casita’s inside walls cracks often. I… I didn’t hear anything last night inside Antonio’s room as… it was crowded and music; I couldn’t hear between the noises. It’s been going on for years…worse over the last decade.”

“Would… could the cracks affect…our gifts?” Luisa piped up cautiously, “Would Mama stop healing? Would my strength fade?”

“Luisa?” Mirabel zoned straight onto her sister, “Did you feel your strength change last night?”

Luisa swallowed thickly, her eyes widening like a rabbit staring down a barrel but her silence for Mirabel was enough. She had been affected.

Mirabel reached over, patting her shoulder. “You defiantly need to stop carrying churches and buildings. You’re probably overworked and—”

Julieta gasped, her hand coming to her face eyes wide in fear “If your gift wavered for a moment… No. No more buildings moving… I won’t let you risk yourself.” Julieta jumped from her chair, coming around to Luisa’s side and into a hug

“Agreed.” Abuela decided sharply, though there was no mistake the fear in the woman’s eyes and it wasn’t just about Luisa’s safety either. “Until we know what’s happening or if anyone’s gift is playing up then let me know immediately. I’ll talk to the Guzmans to delay Mariano’s engagement to Isabela for now once I go down to the church.”

If possible, both Dolores and Isabela looked relieved at this news but Mirabel itches for breakfast to end. She had a ghost to hound for answers.

Chapter Text

Felix frowned as he stood in the courtyard staring at the….statue of Bruno as he tied to piece together what he knew from what didn’t make sense. From what Dolores had told him to what he had seen. He and Agustín had been the only ones to go to his room. Bruno never left his room when he died and they never found a body. Casita would never let anyone into the area, let along rooms so no one cleared him. Casita also clearly stopped working from the threshold and since he had a feeling the room would be in a state of deterioration; casita couldn’t have disposed of him.

He hadn’t ventured in since…that visit.

What were they missing here?

He stepped closer, though he wasn’t sure why Bruno would leave…this here. What did this statue have to do with anything? Felix could plainly see the soft fabric it was wearing, the green ruana looked exactly the same, dark burgundy shirt and pants… one sandal.

“Tio Felix?”

Felix jumped a mile, mostly away from the statue and spun to see Mirabel at the top of the steps, riddling with her mochilas with a quizzical look.

Felix took a breath, his hand coming to his chest.

“Please, a little warning.” He spoke, mostly in a soft beg as he headed up to meet her. “Especially next to…that.” Nodding downwards to the otherworldly visitor

Mirabel chuckled softly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Though her eyes lingered past him to the statue.

Felix followed her gaze for a moment before he asked, “Are you okay, Mirabel?”

“Hm?” Mirabel blinked in surprise at his question before she composed herself with a smile and a short nod. “Yes. Of course.”

Felix pursed his lips but he could believe that; she looked okay, a little nervous but who wouldn’t be at being the focal point of last night of the family’s attention and a….dead man. The thought alone made him queasy.

“If you need anyone to talk to Mira, you know my doors always open.”

Mirabel nodded softly, “I know. Thanks.” She brushed past him with a smile, taking a second at the statue and it was on the tip of his tongue to warn her away when she just booped the statue on the nose and pulled up the hood and walked off with a soft hum.

Agustín was busy with cleaning by the time Felix began to help with the daily chores, the sky still dark and thunder hung in the air which gave Felix an indication that Pepa was slowly waking up. He hadn’t seen much of the others but Mirabel’s…reactions were still…strange.

“Do you think Mirabel’s alright?” Felix asked, breaking the silence as he wiped down Casita’s side.

Agustín looked up before frowning, “What do you mean?”

“The girl got humiliated at a gift ceremony by Abuela and that triggered a…haunt. We’re all surprised and…upset but, I don’t know if it’s because we remember him from….before.” He wasn’t sure if saying it made it any better or real but the implication was very much clear. “She’s not scared, she’s not…surprised and… I don’t know if that’s just me reading into too much or not but she’s not…acting like the rest of us.”

Agustín paused, mulling for a moment before he shook his head. “I don’t think she understands the situation as much as we think she does. It’s been ten years… she was five, why would she remember him and have the same emotional responses as the rest of us?”

“She was closest to him out of all the children.” Felix pointed out. He knew very well of the night Pepa had seen Bruno’s dark door open, and caught Mirabel at the top of the tower. Walked the damn things himself to see if they could find his body after Mirabel’s cryptic comment.

“What if she knew he was dead?” Felix guessed, grimacing at how it sounded, or how Agustín gave him a look. “We both went looking for him… we both heard what she said that night.”

“Hm, can’t forget that, ‘I saw tio Bruno, he’s in his room.’ ” Agustín quoted quietly under his breath before he shook his head. “I doubt that proves anything, we should talk to her about it, see what she remembers.”

“We never found his body and his ghost showed up last night, I don’t think a 5 year old is going to notice the difference—”

Crack!

Both of them jumped as a sound of thunder echoed, whipping around to see Pepa standing with her blanket around her shoulders, a dark dribble of rain and snow soaking into her and she looked a little lost. Felix abandoned the work side and reached for her.

Pepa sunk straight into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him before he felt the cool splashes of rain.

“Please stop talking about him.” Pepa mumbled, “I don’t want to keep hearing about it.”

“Okay.” He should have found a different area to talk about him… maybe next time away from potential listeners. He didn’t want to hurt Pepa like this. It almost ached to see her in so much emotional pain. “Here, let’s get you some food, Mi Vida.” Felix pulled out the extras from breakfast and quickly began to fill a plate and set it down in front of her, waving away her cloud from raining into it.

Mirabel felt relief as she entered the little space within the walls but she had hoped she had gotten his attention to get more aware. With as much time passing since last night and how much energy he burned through, Tio Bruno wasn’t going to be able to manifest himself as corporally so she had to make do with her boards whenever he got like this.

Mirabel sat down with a sigh, reaching for her planchette and set it to ‘Hola’

The spirit board was something she was still very proud of; while it had the alphabet, she had taken it upon herself to add more than just letters. Phases, names and even a little floor plan of Casita with a movable planchette for each added section of the board. It cut down the time for spelling out locations, names and quick conversation shorthand and she had let Antonio draw little doodles on the sides.

His nonsense squiggles also decorated the left side of the room up to knee height, where he had been one and a half she had left him playing with some pens while she ‘spoke’ to Bruno when he was too young to read or know why they were down here at night.

Bruno’s Planchette remained stationary at ‘Adios’ where he had last left it.

Was it too soon to be here?

Mirabel hoped not. She knew Abuela had left early to the church and the rest of the family were taking the day off and so far, no one was really saying anything despite conversation. It was…frustrating. She could only see so much given she spent most of her days looking into the family and their magical wonders while Bruno was literally beyond the vale of life and still sticking around for her.

For his family.

As much as she felt like he was jumping to her defence, Luisa’s failing gift felt like there was a lot bubbling under the surface of the family that no one was willing to acknowledge. Mirabel doubted that was Bruno’s full intent but…maybe last night would be the changing of directions for the family.

For the better.

A small knock at the door interrupted her before she saw Antonio’s head poke through the door before he hurried over, his arms wrapping around her neck.

“Mirabel!” he buried his face into her neck. “Sorry I didn’t get to speak to you sooner!”

Mirabel smiled, settling him in her lap; letting him cuddle into her, running soft circles.

“It’s okay, we both were a little…busy this morning. I hope you enjoyed your new room.”

Antonio pulled back staying settled nonetheless with a sigh though a few of his animal friends did seem to join them. Her lips pursed thoughtfully but said nothing.

“It was nice.” He though glanced at the board before his shoulders dropped. “He’s not here.” He pouted, nodding to the still stationary planchette “Let’s go to my room. Let the dead man sleep.”

Mirabel let Antonio lead the way out and through his door where Mirabel finally allowed herself to take in the view of such a large space inside; the forest with life and trees… she could almost feel a natural wind with a pleasant warmth that felt… relaxing.

Antonio happily sat at a collection of pillows before he began to sign than speak.

‘I want to talk to Papi about Bruno.’

Mirabel pursed her lips though it didn’t seem unreasonable ‘Tio Felix and Tia Pepa don’t know you know him.’

‘Does he still want to be a secret?’ Antonio paused, looking to the door, ‘he’s outside!’ He gave a wave as he signed with an eye roll.

‘He had an emotional outburst; he can’t move his statue just yet.’ Mirabel defended with a soft look, ‘I don’t think he meant to summon it’

Antonio’s shoulder’s deflated, ‘I don’t like it upset mami’

Mirabel reached forwards softly, ‘I know. But it means she’ll no longer be in denial. She’ll heal and we just have to help—

Mirabel’s sign was incomplete as Antonio frowned as he followed her hand before he reached forwards and pulled her hand towards him before he gasped sharply.

“Mira…” His little fingers pulled her fingers away from curling up to mask the white scar but she felt unable to meet his eye as he looked up at her with huge brown eyes.

“What happened?” He asked out loud… voice wobbling. His little finger traced over it.

Mirabel pulled him into her lap again, letting him keep a grip on her hand because he clearly wasn’t releasing her limb any time soon.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she spoke softly, ‘we’ll learn when we can talk to Bruno, okay?’ she signed swiftly, kissing his cheek. “I’m okay.” She whispered.

Antonio sniffled, releasing her hand to rest in her arms sadly, his finger tracing over a few of her embroidered flowers on her shirt. “I don’t want you to be like him.”

Mirabel rocked softly, sighing out. “I know… me neither.”

“What if you do?”

“Then I’m your little ghost friend and we help plot ways to…prank Camilo.” She teased because… she had to make this light for him. Just a little bit. If he worried too much… she didn’t want that. He shouldn’t have to worry for her when he had to look ahead for his future, not hers.  

“And you won’t’ be alone. You’ll have Tio Bruno.”

“Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen but yes. I don’t see why not.”

Antonio perked up a little, “Ooh! What if we get him to prank the family? When he moves the statue, have it appear at dinner would be so funny, like he’s eating with the rest of us!”

Mirabel chuckled but shook her head. “No, I think… that’ll scare the family. I doubt he wants to do that. Last night… that was a display to be remembered.” She didn’t know how the family would take it as amusing as the thought was because… at the end of the day; Bruno was dead and the family were still reeling from that knowledge now. To flaunt that fact in their face, to scare seemed too cruel despite the joking intent.

It would make Bruno look like a malicious ghost. Especially after yesterday’s display.  She didn’t want Mama or Tia to feel worse about the loss or for Abuela to think Bruno’s soul had been corrupted after death.

Tio Bruno may be dead and sure, he could be scary when motivated to be but…the ghost still tried his best to get rats to tell a telenovela to pass the time when not in his statue. Bruno always said he had been considered a bad omen before, Mirabel felt that he didn’t want to be considered worst after death. God only knew how the town felt now.

She wanted to go out and see but… leaving would certainly open her up to being asked a ton of questions…

“So, let’s move on from that, shall we?” Mirabel lifted him from her lap. “Have you explored your room yet?”

Antonio pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not all the way. My friends were telling me more about what’s around.”

“Ah, good. So why don’t we spend this morning and afternoon exploring, shall we?”

Antonio brightened up. “Okay.” He took her head, “Let’s start at the far right corner and go from there!”

Chapter Text

The statue was as usual such a relief to settle within and get comfortable and to regain his strength but he couldn’t help but be left strewing and mulling with regret and frustration of what had occurred. Bruno knew without a doubt he had terrified his sisters. His mother.

He hadn’t thought… didn’t think but…he couldn’t have helped himself of just being a ghost behind her shoulder; an observer.

She had needed him.

He was tired of Abuela just ignoring the facts presented in favour of her own opinion. He was tired of the family just…brushing them off because she wasn’t as ‘helpful’ for what she didn’t have. If being a sledge hammer to a thin wall, so be it.

But he knew he had to help clear up the unexpected mess in that fall out.

Mirabel was probably worried.

He wasn’t ready to leave his statue just yet but… he hoped she’d be fine until then.

‘..w..’ soft voices pulled his attention from chest placement to seep his ghostly mist up to the head of his statue and reconnecting with his physical senses to see… he was still on the steps. Looking up towards Antonio’s door but he could hear voices around him. Behind him.

He recognised his mother’s voice easily; a…forced tone in her voice seemed to mask a shake to it.

What surprised him most was the fact a priest seemed to move to stand in his line of sight.

A priest?

If he could, he would have laughed. His mother had brought a priest here? To see him? Bruno couldn’t deny his mother’s logic but… it brought a sense of hilarity for him as a spirit for such a…flat view of the human perspective; an assumption a priest would so much. He was a spirit through magic; that much he remembered. He could feel it. There was no god influence to his existence so the priest was doing this all in vain. He could enjoy the attempts in the meantime.

Bruno didn’t pay attention to the priest’s voice or to what he was doing; aside from flicking through his bible but decided it’d be best to…look less intimidating. He had to move his anchor somewhere else when he could.

The father placed the bible down onto the bannister side, in the corner of his eye before he heard their steps, as they moved further away. Bruno wasn’t sure if they were looking his way but… he felt he could make some move here.

He seeped his mist through to his cold limbs; already feeling the weight that came with simple movements without using his spirit form to do it for him. Bruno turned his expression to something calm and soft with very soft grinding echoing before he felt the weight and gravity shift as he moved from the steps to the floor by a few paces before—and a little spitefully towards the priest’s attitude towards him since he informed the man nature would claim his hair—he picked up the bible from the bannister before he forced himself to turn towards the kitchen before he withdrew from any more.

Casita shifted their tiles before the steps up to Antonio’s room began to vanish and return to order as they had been before Antonio’s ceremony.

He had chosen this view; for in most part the dining room and kitchen area had the most foot traffic to keep an eye on; he couldn’t stay completely obvious on the time he had to return to his statue.

A sharp gasp of horror echoed and he could plainly see both his mother and the priest look upon in and it was his mother’s expression that shied him away from his statue’s senses down to his chest again; to disconnect from that but her fear was unmistakeable as her hands went to her face.

He didn’t… he didn’t mean to scare her. Not now.

Any petty person at this point would, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t out to scare his family (the priest—yes), but she wasn’t young; she couldn’t take the same strain too close without consequences. He had made his point last night. No need to make her follow his path with god’s hand than magic.

Antonio had worn himself out. The 5-year-old had gone for a nap after they had explored his room and she had enjoyed spending time with him and his new friends.

But Mirabel had been leaving when she heard a collection of hurried feet from outside Antonio’s door before she poked her head out to see Felix, Agustín and Julieta now down in the courtyard. The same courtyard that was now missing the temporary staircase up and the statue of Bruno that had moved a little which…seemed to be the reason why there was so much alarm on her parent’s face. No sign of Pepa which, for Mirabel was for the best.

Bruno was now standing somewhat idly, less threatening and his expression calm than what it had been before, eyes ever glowing but much brighter now which meant he had more strength and…

Mirabel found herself sniggering as she caught sight of the Bible her Tio’s statue had held out in one hand like he had picked it up off a side and nothing more.

The owner of said bible looked to be frozen and standing behind Abuela as if she was a human shield for the ghostly statue of her long-deceased son.

It was a small thing but… Mirabel found it hilarious to see and observe as the priest looked unwilling to even approach to pull the bible from his hands before he bailed and shot from Casita’s doors, despite Abuela’s displeased calls.

Mirabel’s amusement faded instantly as she caught the eye of Tio Felix, wiping the expression from her face quickly before she turned and scurried towards her room and let out a heavy breath before sinking onto her bed, trailing a thumb down the white scar of her palm thoughtfully but… she had to hope that Tio Felix wouldn’t think the worst of her laughing, right?

If she did, could she convince him about the...funny side of it? Right now, Mirabel didn’t know but knew it’d be best to avoid him for now.

Agustín’s breath was laboured with each step up, his heart thumping in his chest, his shoulder bag digging in and Isabela’s breath echoed similarly but he knew this was a necessary trip to make; he doubted Isabela remembered the last time she was here much, and he hoped at all. He had taken down the boards across the door to make the trip but…he had to hope it was fruitful that Abuela wouldn’t criticize him for it.

“Pa, Why are we here?” Isabela asked, breaking the silence as they neared the top

“I need a bridge.” Agustín looked at her softly, “I…last time I was here; me and your Tio didn’t look hard enough and… I need to make sure we didn’t…miss anything.”

Isabela’s jaw tightened, but her eyes widened in alarm and she looked a little more paler now that they were here, opposite the gap that looked to have worn more away since the room had been left to it. “You… you think he’s still in there?”

Agustín hesitated. His mind touched on that old… vision fragment but that too, he supposed was accurate. Felix had mentioned something about that from what Dolores had told him and Agustín hadn’t concentred too much; hadn’t wanted to know too much as they both tried to comfort their wives.

Julieta was cooking, stress cooking now and he knew better than to stop her right now; she needed her hands to be busy than to stay and dwell on it in their room. So he let her do what she needed to while Felix looked after the kids while he hunted for more answers.

Luisa was in her room, from what he last heard and hadn’t really left; he planned to see her and check on her once he was done here. Isabela looked…relieved to have been dragged out but now, she looked like she’d rather bolt.

“I need answers for the family, Isa. I can’t cross that gap safely.”

Isabela sucked her teeth for a moment, turning her head to the side, examining the gap. “Do…Do I have to go in?”

“No.” Agustín reached a hand forwards, “I am not asking you to. I just need you to build me a bridge with your vines.”

“Like… what I did before?”

Agustín nodded. “Yes.”

After a moment of quiet thought, Isabela nodded. “I can do that.”

With a soft nod, she turned and held her hands out before vines of various thicknesses seemed to form and reach to the far side and spread to create a solid grip to the other side. Though it was obvious of some distrust of the sides when plant railings appeared before he gave her a side look.

“We already have one ghost, Papi, we don’t need another,” Isabela muttered.

“Fair point.” He sucked in a heavy breath before he strode forwards and onto the bridge to cross.

Mirabel found herself redesigning a new present for Antonio, or a combined present while she waited for the commotion outside to fully subside, though it pulled at her heart to hear her mother’s sniffles but…there was little she could do to comfort her.

Though her eyes turned up as the felt a familiar presence seep to form beside her before she smiled at the ghostly form of her Tio, though he was most mist than form but she could sense where she needed to go before he vanished off.

Mirabel set her things aside and poked her head from the nursery to make sure the coast was clear before she walked quietly out and through the painting and down to her ghost room.

She sighed heavily out as she watched Bruno’s Planchette move to ‘hola’

‘Hola’ Mirabel smiled weakly though she felt a little nervous, more than she had now but… she didn’t know why. She had been here hundreds of times; talked to him for years…why was she nervous?

‘You okay?’

Mirabel chewed her lip, glancing to the mist beside her but… she knew this couldn’t really wait; she needed answers to this. To what was happening to her.

‘No.’ Mirabel turned to face the misty before she held her hand out and exposed the scar towards him; It took a moment before his hands formed before the rest of him, feeling the coolness of air as he touched along it though she watched his fuzzy formed face and the frown that crossed his face.

He looked serious, dead serious and almost alarmed before his head turned towards one of the walls out before dispersing again for a mist.

It felt like forever, it may have only been minutes before he resurfaced back to form, more in shape and this time…just as serious but this time he signed than use the board.

‘The miracle took my promise’

Mirabel blinked in confusion, ‘what?’

Guilt flashed through his face but she felt her insides coil as she tried to recall what he had said last night; it had all been a rush but..

But…

“You’ll lose them like Papa. Like me. And soon, if don’t you change Mirabel will wind…up…just like….. me!”

Mirabel gasped suddenly in realisation.

Bruno had done this. Bound her to a fate by the miracle… if Abuela didn’t change…

Suddenly, Mirabel felt sick at the notion; she didn’t… of course; but why would... He didn’t—

“I’m…so sorry!” Bruno’s voice echoed in her ear, his hands coming to her shoulders, slipping through but she couldn’t focus on him as she heard her pulse in her ears as she shoved through him and out the door in a flash… her eyes filled with tears as she went but she jumped from the painting and down the steps, hurrying out of Casita; where he couldn’t follow her.

Not realising Felix had been standing by Dolores’s door.