Work Text:
It became quickly apparent, once she got it, that her gift was useful. Abuela always appreciated the advance notice of goings on in the town, and her tía the forewarning on any need to start making food. It was more straightforward than visions, and everybody had adjusted to the trade-off in privacy with relatively good grace. So Dolores listened for them. Wherever she was in the Encanto, she could, if she concentrated, hear the goings on anywhere else. She struggled sometimes, if the wind was up, the sounds distant or buried in the hubbub of others, but she would always do her best.
Sometimes it got a bit much. It wasn't a gift she could turn off. Her room gave her some respite, and sleep, but she wasn't always there. It jumped out at her at times, whether she wanted it to or not. She'd hear things she didn't want to. She'd hear a hundred conversations all competing for her attention, and struggle to tune them out. She'd have bad days.
It wasn't a noisy day. The town was quiet and nobody could say there had been a party, an argument, or even a particularly vibrant games night full of drink at the Casita, nothing to send the typical Madrigal under the weather. Still, the family made sure to tread around the house softly, taking their time to ease the doors shut, and conversing in gestures and hushed whispers.
Dolores laid out on the couch downstairs, the pillow clutched over her head. She hadn't made it upstairs this time, the world zoning in at a hundred miles an hour.
Sometimes the sounds just bounced around without end, loud beyond loud, every noise ricocheting off the back of her head like a hundred decibel scream. Words could sting, a banged door bellow, and everything was turned up to eleven. She didn't know why or when it would happen, just that it did. Her hearing would turn itself up, until she'd hear the excruciatingly sharp gasp of the faintest breeze or the distant chirping of birds as a cacophony of screeches directed straight into her head. It was days like this that Dolores just wanted to retreat to her room and curl up in the corner. On days like this it was all she could do.
She could still hear everything, through the muffled down. Louder than it should be. Quieter than it would be. The darkness helped; pushed back the queasiness, as though the lack of sensation gave extra space for her beleaguered ears.
Her mamá came by first. Straight after breakfast, her gentle touch soothing against her back like a child. She stayed a while then left with a kiss, pressed to the top of her head as she took herself away before her clouds could rumble, hesitation trailing at her fingertips.
Someone brought her a blanket, the warmth easing into her as it was laid over her without comment. Their footsteps were heavier than most. Luisa. She paused, lightly drawing a question on Dolores arm. An arrow. 'Upstairs?'
Dolores shook her head, the tiniest shift she could manage. She didn't think she could move without it all being too much. But that was okay. Luisa left her be.
She heard Antonio drag Camilo away across town, her littlest brother asking the birds keep their squawking down. Her pa did the same with Agustín, Bruno following. The front door clicked shut as Abuela herded the days first enquiring townspeople back into town. There were still others moving around the house, slipping in and out away from her as best they could. The kitchen. She could still hear movement in there. Calculated. Stifled. Paused.
There was a clink, so quiet but still so loud, of a cup against tile. There weren't many Madrigals who could move around the Casita without her hearing, but Julieta was one of them. When she wasn't cooking at least. She too laid a hand on her back. Intent unspoken, but clear. Gentle. 'It's there if you want it.' Just like her sister, Dolores thought. Did they communicate like this too?
Julieta left, returning to the kitchen, and a moment later the tantalising smell of sweetened cocoa reached Dolores nose. Tempting, calming.
A rustling grew, disturbing the peace. It built in a rush that filled her head and threatened to overwhelm her once more, then it was over as quick as it started, the room left cooler and quieter in its wake. Sweeter too, filling with new scents. Flowers. Plants. The fresh smell of the outdoors, a hint of jungle, trees and grasses. She inhaled, turning her mind to the new sensations. It was darker too, and a quick peak revealed a protective curtain of vines around the room, shading against the sharpness of the sun.
"Mm." It was the smallest noise, of her appreciation. She wasn't up to saying more. She didn't need to.
The leaves shifted. Just enough to drown out the outside, and the heady smells twisted into each other, thickening as the world settled. Dolores could feel her heart slowly settle, her thoughts turning inwards, and she let it take her away with it, finally drifting into welcome sleep.