Work Text:
Mirabel's POV
"What...?" I mumbled, looking around my darkened room for what had woken me up.
Seeing nothing, I pulled my covers back up, turning-
Thump.
My hand flew to my chest as I bolted upright in bed. I whipped my head around the room, trying to figure out what la Casita was telling me. Seeing nothing of immediate concern, I rubbed my eyes, staring down at the floor.
"Casita?" I whispered. "Why did you make my bed move?"
Creak.
My door opened by itself, and I sighed, realizing that I would have to leave my room if I wanted to get any answers. Groaning, I stood up, smiling tiredly down at the sight of the tiles bringing my shoes to me. Wrapping one of my blankets around my shoulders, I walked out of the room, following the sound of the creaking floorboards.
I frowned when I was led to the stairs, hoping that the house didn't expect me to go outside in my nightgown. Shrugging, I carefully walked down the steps, guided by nothing but the moonlight above me. I glanced at the front door warily, but luckily enough, la Casita didn't seem to be guiding me that way.
"Menos mal," I muttered, blinking heavily at the path the house was making in front of me. "But where are you-"
I froze, abruptly realizing just where la Casita was taking me. Immediately, I broke into a run, the dead silence of my sentient home the unspoken answer that I was supposed to go find Tío Bruno. Panting slightly from my rush, I skidded to a stop as I stared at the slumbering form of my uncle.
What? But why did...? I looked around in confusion. He's here, sleeping. Why did-
"No...please no."
I turned, reinspecting my tío. He seemed to be grimacing, his face pale and sweaty. Slowly, I reached my hand out, pulling it back when he groaned, thrashing. I gaped at the sight in front of me for a moment, before hurrying forward to shake my uncle awake from the horrible dream he seemed to be having.
After a minute or two of trying to gently wake him up, with no success, he whimpered, his glowing eyes flying open. I jumped back at the last second, almost colliding with my panicking tío when he sat up. His eyes darted around the room, the light coming from them fading as he gasped heavily, like he'd just been running in the jungle rather than sleeping.
"Tío Bruno...?" I murmured, gently placing my hand on his shoulder.
Flinching, he quickly turned to face me. I gasped at the sight of his ashen face, and the tear tracks on his cheeks shining slightly in the glow of la luna. He stared back at me, his usually vibrant green orbs glazed over, almost like he was seeing through me rather than at me.
After a moment, I felt him practically slump, leaning into my touch. Sitting down on the mattress, I pulled him into my arms. Ignoring the feeling of his tears on the shoulder of my gown, I rubbed his back, trying to help him calm down.
"Shhh, Tío Bruno. It's alright." I whispered, carding my fingers through his hair.
I sat there, listening to the sound of his breathing gradually return to normal. Eventually, I realized that his frantic pants had completely stopped, being replaced by soft snores. I pursed my lips, contemplating what I should do.
If I move too much, I might wake him up. But maybe, if I just...
Moving slowly, I layed down, doing my best not to shift my uncle. Finally, after several minutes, I was lying down, my arm still around my slumbering tío. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted now that the rush of panic I'd had earlier was gone.
What was he dreaming about? I wondered briefly, before all conscious thought faded away, as I finally fell back to sleep.
•~•
I woke up the next morning to the sight of my uncle still loosely clutching my nightgown, his breathing slow and steady. The sun had already begun to rise, and I could tell that breakfast would probably be sometime soon. Studying the deep eye-bags on Bruno's face, I wondered for the first time if they weren't just a sign of his age.
How long has he been having nightmares like that? I sighed, my brows furrowing. And is there really anything I can do to help? I can't control what he sees when he sleeps.
But! I grinned.
He seemed to not have any nightmares when I was here! Maybe someone being with him helps. My lip quivered, a horrible thought invading my mind.
Oh, Tío Bruno...do you dream about being alone?
I struggled to swallow down the lump in my throat. So much has changed, and yet, it's been only a few short months. You've been suffering for decades-it's one thing to forgive, but to forget?
I shook my head, looking up. That's a lot harder.
Tío Bruno shifted slightly. I glanced down at him, noticing his relaxed expression was now marred with stress lines, although this time it was at least likely due to the sun waking him up, and not a nightmare. His eyelids fluttered, and I flinched, wondering how much of last night he remembered.
"Why's the sun always so bright..." he muttered, finally opening his eyes.
Noticing me immediately, he jumped, letting go of my nightgown before falling off the other side of the bed with a yelp. Hearing him groan, I quickly crawled over to the edge, peering down at my muttering tío.
He clearly didn't remember a lot. I watched him rub the back of his neck, holding out one of my hands.
"Ah, gracias Mira." He mumbled, gladly accepting the proffered help up.
"De nada," I chuckled as he sat down on the mattress next to me.
We sat in silence, Bruno fiddling with his fingers while I swung my legs back and forth.
Maybe he really doesn't recall anything. I peeked a glance at him, only to find him doing the same thing. He gave a high-pitched laugh, his eyes darting around the room while his face flushed.
"Listen, Mirabel, about last night..." he winced, biting his lip. "I, uh...I'm sorry, about waking you up."
"Tío, la Casita woke me up, not you. But I'm glad it did, because you seemed to be having a pretty bad nightmare."I commented hesitantly, not sure if bringing up what he saw while asleep was a good idea or not.
His shoulders hunched. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I don't usually remember much about what happens in my sleep, I just tend to wake up...panicky, I guess." He shrugged, rubbing his forehead.
"Breakfast!"
We both looked in the direction of the kitchen at that. Standing, we walked to the dining table, our footsteps on the tiles the only sound to be heard. Until we neared la mesa, that is.
What on earth did Camilo do this time? I sighed quietly, unsurprised to see Camilo's sheepish grin and Tía Pepa thundering, her jaw clenched.
Even Tío Bruno likes to avoid Pepa when she's like that. I fought back a laugh at the way my uncle edged around his sister to get to his seat, practically holding his breath and tiptoeing.
I tuned out my tía's scolding, going to help mi mamá carry in the platters of food. Grabbing the arepas, I went back to the table, sitting down at my spot when I noticed that everyone was already there. Filling my plate with arepas and huevos pericos, along with along with some sliced pitaya, I yawned, blinking tiredly down at my plate.
"Mija, where were you this morning? Your door was open, so I went to check on you, but you weren't in your room." Mi mamá asked, her eyebrows furrowed. "And you don't usually wear your nightgown to breakfast."
I froze mid-bite, trying to subtly gauge my uncle's expression to see how he wanted me to answer. Unfortunately, my glance at him wasn't stealthy enough, as my mamá was now looking suspiciously between my uncle and I.
"Ah, Chiquita, it's fine." Bruno assured me, giving me a tight-lipped smile. "Mira, she, uh...she woke me up from a nightmare last night, and fell asleep in my bed." He replied, his head bowed.
"I'm not that hungry, but Maria had her pups not that long ago, and I think they'd like some food, so I'm just gonna...yeah..." he grabbed a couple arepas, practically running out of the room.
My mother followed him out with her eyes, opening her mouth to speak, before pausing, and ultimately saying nothing while her brother left. Once Bruno was gone, she pursed her lips, pivoting to face me.
"What happened, Mirabel?" she questioned, her brow furrowed.
Everyone's listening though. I winced, keenly aware of the fact that all other conversations had stopped. But...maybe that's a good thing. That way, the house can bring them to help Tío Bruno too, and they'll know what's going on.
Is it really my secret to tell, though? I frowned, wondering what the right choice was. But...if la Casita woke me up last night, who's to say it won't do it with someone else who doesn't know la Casita as well next time? They might panic.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "La Casita woke me up last night." I confessed, my fingers fidgeting. "It led me downstairs to Tío Bruno's bed, and he was thrashing and muttering, so I tried to wake him up from what I thought was a bad dream."
"Except, when he woke up, his eyes were glowing green for a little while, and he seemed...terrified. It was almost like he was...somewhere else." I murmured, resting my head on my chin.
"I-I wasn't sure what to do. I just hugged him, and after a while, he went back to sleep." I shrugged helplessly. "He said he doesn't remember what he saw, and he barely seemed to recall what happened this morning."
"I just...I wish I'd known. I wonder if he's been having nightmares this whole time, constantly waking up like he did last night, but all alone..." I trailed off, feeling tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.
"Poor Bruno..." Antonio muttered, to the quiet agreement of everyone else.
At least they're not asking for any details. I mused, taking a deep breath. I'm not sure how much more I can say before I start crying. The look he gave me...I never want to see that look on his face again, not if I can prevent it.
"Did you being there seem to help?" Mi má asked hesitantly, interrupting my train of thought.
"I-I think so. He-he kind of held onto me all night, like-like he was afraid I'd leave him." I admitted, my lip quivering.
My mamá slumped, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. "Maybe...maybe we can take turns having la Casita wake us up to go be there for him." She suggested, smiling when la Casita's tiles leaped happily into the air at that idea.
"Yeah! I wouldn't mind if you woke me up to help Tío Bruno Casita." Camilo chimed in, grinning at the floor.
"Me too! I want to help!" Antonio piped up, waving his arm in the air excitedly.
"Count me in!" Luisa declared, giving Isa a high-five when she offered her own assistance.
I watched, flabbergasted, as everyone announced their desire to be woken in the middle of the night to go downstairs and comfort Bruno. Beaming, I continued eating my breakfast, content to listen to my family members discuss which days they would have la Casita alert them if needed.
Tío Bruno, you're not alone anymore. And if you think you are, well...
I smirked, taking a sip of my coffee.
You're in for a rude awakening.
Third Person POV
The next night, Bruno was shocked when he found himself being woken up by Pepa's rain cloud pouring on him. Spluttering, Bruno asked what was going on, only to yelp in surprise when his sister practically tackled him, rambling about how she was worried because he was sleepwalking and thrashing. Bruno just blinked, too confused to even bother trying to get out of the painfully tight embrace his sister had pulled him into.
Eventually, Pepa's rain tapered off into a drizzle, before stopping completely. Glancing up at his sister, he gave her a tired smile, glad to have her there even if it meant being a little wet. However, after seeing that her brother was shivering, Pepa quickly dragged him off the mattress, thanking la Casita for bringing them a new ruana and blanket.
Furthermore, she insisted on helping him dry off, wrapping her little brother in so many layers of cloth that he could barely stand, let alone move. Seeing this, Pepa laughed, carrying her brother back to bed while ignoring his muffled protests. Gently, she set her brother down, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on top of his own.
The warmth of the blankets, combined with the soothing sound of his sister's breathing, quickly lulled him back to sleep. Satisfied that Nene was peacefully slumbering, Pepa closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall asleep once more as well.
Not everyone was quite so exuberant in their efforts to help Bruno. Abuela would sing to her son, carding her hand through his hair in a manner reminiscent to how she used to when he was a child. Julieta would bring him a mug full of chocolate en leche de coco, and whisper reassurances to her little hermanito. Félix would tell Bruno jokes, and funny stories, until he was tired out from laughing. And Agustín would insist on reading to Bruno his favorite books from his childhood, even making different voices for different characters.
Los niños in la familia would often take a less...traditional, route to helping their tío. Luisa would practically carry Bruno to the courtyard, and they'd spend hours stargazing and naming constellations. Dolores would watch rat telenovelas with her uncle, or share the latest bits of gossip she'd heard from town. Isa would insist on taking flower requests from Bruno, and the calming perfume of her plants grounded Bruno in the present. Antonio would demand that Bruno pet his fluffy animals, leading to the pair falling asleep surrounded by coatimundis and capybaras. And Camilo, well...Camilo would drag his uncle upstairs to his room, where they'd act out the latest skit Bruno had written, the pair doing their best not to wake up anyone else with their antics.
Mirabel never did anything so extravagant. Instead, she'd simply give her uncle a hug, holding him gently in her arms. In return, he'd smile down at her in thanks, or simply hold onto his niece tightly, depending on how badly shaken he was. Very few, if any words, were shared between the two-because neither felt the need to speak.
They'd lay on Bruno's bed, listening to the sound of the wind brushing against the trees, and the distant rustling of animals in the jungle. Both knew that blanket burritos, lullabies, warm drinks, jokes, bedtime stories, stars, telenovelas, flowers, pets, and skits were wonderful things. But at the end of the day, that's all they were-things.
Bruno didn't need things, not that he'd ever complain about having them. What he needed was someone to be there for him, to remind him that he wasn't alone anymore. And Mirabel...she understood that, in a way that no one else in la familia did.
Thus, when Mirabel was often woken up on nights where someone else was supposed to go wake up Bruno, on times when la Casita ignored the schedule she was given, Mirabel never questioned why. She never asked her sentient home for an explanation, or grumbled about her ruined sleep cycle. Rather, she'd tiptoe down the stairs, silently making her way to to her uncle.
The truth was, Mirabel was happy to have found a way to help her uncle the way he helped everyone else. She knew her selfless tío would never admit it, but she could tell that he worried about one day opening his eyes to find himself back in the walls again. So, if a silent embrace was the best way to help Bruno to calm down, and to remind him that everything was different now, well...
Mirabel would gladly give her uncle midnight hugs for the rest of her life.