Work Text:
“Camilo hasn’t said a word the whole day,” Isabela told her mother with a shrug. “I’m not complaining, I’m just stating a fact.”
With a wet plate still in hand, Julieta froze, and her brows furrowed with concern when she realized that her daughter was right. Dinner had still been eventful - much of the discussion had revolved about Luisa’s upcoming quinceañera and the preparations they needed for that, and when a toucan had landed on the windowsill, toddler Antonio had blabbered to everyone’s delight, using more words than they’d heard from him before. Three years old, and while they knew he could speak, he was such a quiet child.
Camilo was the opposite. They should have noticed, and Julieta couldn’t help but feel proud of her daughter for worrying about her primo, no matter how many times she would insist that she found him too annoying to truly befriend.
But while Camilo had been smiling throughout the meal, Julieta couldn’t recall him saying anything - no jokes, no snarky remarks. Now, aware of this rare problem, she thought him to have been strangely timid the days before as well.
“That’s unusual,” she said, trying not to let her worry show.
“She’s right.” They both turned to see Dolores in her sleeping gown peeking down at them from the balcony. “He’s been so quiet. I can’t hear what’s wrong if he won’t say anything.”
“Maybe he has a sore throat,” Julieta suggested - that’d be a problem that was easy to fix. Of course, she’d be ready to help him if the problem couldn’t be solved with her Gift, too. “I’ll tend to him.”
She could ask Pepa and Félix if they’d noticed something, but knowing her sister too well, she decided against it. If they’d been aware, Pepa would have sought help and made Julieta look him over from top to toe. With no clouds hovering above Casita, Pepa had to be unaware of whatever struggle Camilo was facing, and Julieta couldn’t really blame her. She knew her sister and cuñado to be wonderful parents, but Antonio is three, and though he isn’t as big a handful as his brother, they were all kept busy watching him run and draw and try his best to get outside and pet the donkeys. Toddlers keep you busy.
Her original plan had been to approach him in the morning, seeing how the children had already been asked to go to bed. But just as she’d put the final bowl where it belonged, the cabinet doors tilted and made her aware of the presence behind her.
It wasn’t an unusual situation. She’d caught Camilo trying to sneak leftovers before. Now, she just felt relieved to have a somewhat normal excuse to catch him alone.
Usually, he’d use his Gift to hide as someone else, or he’d make his eyes go wide and sparkly in a way she could never deny. That boy had her wrapped around her finger that way.
But right now, he just looked frozen, fiddling with the hem of his nightshirt.
“Mijo,” she said, trying to catch his eyes. “Is something the matter?”
Camilo paused for just a moment too long before shaking his head.
“You know you can tell your tía anything.”
This time he nodded, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. When she stepped forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, he didn’t pull away.
“You’ve been so quiet,” she mused. “It’s not like you.”
His lips twitched and then, in one swift movement, his hand was raised to gingerly rub his throat.
Even without words, she understood. “Your throat hurts?”
Camilo nodded eagerly, eyes widened and eager at being understood.
“Let’s find something to fix that.”
It wasn’t the first time Julieta had prepared late-night chocolate caliente for one of the children, and she was happy that this was an issue she could easily deal with. Camilo made himself comfortable on the counter while she prepared the ingredients, Casita proving helpful as always. It was strange, the quiet. Usually, Camilo would ask her questions about her day or proudly talk about his own adventures.
“Has it been hurting all day?” she asked and turned away from the pot to see him nod. “Why didn’t you tell? You know I love spoiling my sobrinos with my cooking.”
Camilo shrugged, but then, after a moment of hesitation, he spoke, voice almost too low for her to hear, “Didn’t hurt so bad.”
Julieta wanted to believe that, but the boy had been quiet for days.
“Do you feel warm? Cold?” When she put a hand against his forehead, he leaned into the touch. “Doesn’t feel like a fever,” she said, brows furrowing once more. “You might have caught something in the rain.” Pepa had been the cause of a downpour yesterday when Antonio had slipped out of her sight while chasing a capybara outside.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t sound too hoarse,” she noted, happy to hear him talk again. “That’s good.”
“I - I’ve practiced my voices a lot,” he admitted, kicking his feet back and forth while his gaze lingered on the pot on the stove. “Maybe -” He cleared his throat, curling in on himself ever so slightly. “Maybe I overdid it?”
That was another possible explanation, and it was one she deemed quite believable. The boy never stayed in one shape for long, and she’d thought that to be the cause of his chronic hunger, but honestly, she hadn’t considered the toll his mimicry might take on him.
“Don’t shouldn’t strain yourself, mijo.”
“Do you think this will help?” he asked, nodding toward the pot of hot chocolate. Its sweet smell had already filled the kitchen. “If I overdid it.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Julieta couldn’t help her broad smile when he practically gulped the whole cup down in one go and then finished the snack by wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Do you feel any better?”
Camilo looked up at her and smiled as his reply.
The following day, Camilo swung himself down Casita’s stairs with such an eagerness, Julieta almost didn’t ask her question. But she did, just in case. “Feeling better today, mijo?”
“Yeah,” he grinned and helped set the table.
That was enough to convince her, and she didn’t think more of it.
Until Camilo’s voice cracked.
Mirabel had been saying something about their schoolwork, though Julieta had to admit she hadn’t paid much attention. The most important part was whether Camilo actually talked today. And he did.
“I didn’t-”
His voice broke, turning into an involuntary squeak that caused Dolores’ eyes to widen and Luisa to turn her head. “What was that?”
They didn’t realize what had just happened, but Julieta did, and the memory that overcame her was so strong that her hands flew to her mouth. Oh, she remembered - she remembered hearing her brother’s voice crack like that, how they’d shared his confusion -
When she snapped out of the memory, Camilo had already fled the scene.
He should have asked for more chocolate caliente earlier. Surely, his tía would make it again since she’d been glad to do so the day before. And when they’d been hit by a heavy cold last year, she’d made them hot chocolate seven days in a row!
Something was still wrong with his throat, and then, surely, Julieta could fix it.
He had planned to make a repeat of last night and approach her when she was alone. He’d rather spare his mother a cloud when he could. She didn’t need to know about this.
But when he approached the kitchen, Julieta wasn’t alone.
“- should have done it sooner. I’ve been so worried about how quickly Antonio is growing up, I didn’t even realize -”
Both sets of parents had gathered at the table, and Agustín was the first to spot Camilo and he gestured for him to come closer. The other adults followed his stare, and Camilo reacted too late - they all watched as he turned into Antonio, and now there was no reason to hide in that shape.
“Camilo,” Félix said as his son turned back into himself. “Please come sit.”
Camilo had been in situations like this before, and when grown-ups looked this serious, it usually meant he was in trouble. In turn, the parents had grown familiar with Camilo’s panicked expression, and he opened his mouth, ready to talk his way out of trouble like usual, but then, suddenly, he shut it again.
Gingerly, he took a seat at the end of the table. All the adults stayed; it wasn’t how they’d planned to do this, as Camilo’s disruption had been in the middle of their actual planning. But Félix knew this was his duty as a father, Pepa wanted to make sure they didn’t traumatize her dear boy, Julieta was the healer and figured her knowledge might be needed, and Agustín, honestly, just wanted to be a part of the scene, too.
“Camilo,” Félix began, watching his son squirm under all the stares. “You’re becoming a very big boy -” He trailed off, unable to continue. It wasn’t that he feared this conversation. He just hadn’t tried it before, and while he usually had no problem going off script, he had a feeling that this probably wasn’t the best moment to improvise.
Julieta, ever the angel, took over. “And when boys grow up, their body changes.”
Camilo’s eyebrows crept upward. “...My body already changes a lot?” he offered, his confusion genuine.
“We don’t mean shapeshifting,” Pepa explained, wringing her hands. Despite her troubled expression, she’d managed to keep any clouds at bay. “We mean - something else.”
Camilo’s eyes darted back and forth between them, his expression one big question mark.
“When your voice cracked today, Camilo,” Julieta continued, and he squinted at her, “I don’t think it’s because of a cold. And I don’t think it’s because you’ve overused it. I think it’s because you are growing up.”
“So we wanted to talk about you and your body,” Pepa added and put a great effort into her smile. She might be tense and stressed about her son becoming a man, but she needed this to be a good moment for Camilo. “So you can know what’s going to happen. And you can ask all the curious questions you might have!”
Her smile didn’t have the intended effect. Camilo had begun to look downright terrified, especially when Agustin’s supportive joyful expression turned just a bit too happy.
“Why is my voice doing this?” Camilo asked, tapping his throat. Of course, now when he wanted to demonstrate his stupid cracking voice. He had thought it’d passed, but it didn’t, and that’s where this whole issue had begun.
He’d thought it’d been his own fault. That he’d been too many impressions, that he’d practiced too much, that he’d made his voice go too deep or too high, and he had no one but himself to blame for ruining it all.
“Your voice is going to get deeper,” Julieta told him. “And before that happens, it has some trouble with adjusting. Think of it like suddenly growing a pair of really tall legs.”
“Like tío?” Camilo couldn’t help but snort, and all the adults couldn’t help but smile with Agustín practically beaming.
Julieta nodded. “You end up stumbling. That’s what your voice is doing. But it will pass.”
“When?!”
“Some months.”
He grimaced, obviously not finding that very comforting. But at least this wouldn’t last forever, though a few months might as well be an eternity. “What else is gonna happen?” he asked, already dreading the answer.
“Your body will start to change,” Félix said, gesturing toward his own chest. “It’s all normal. You’ll sweat more. You’ll get more hair. On different places on your body. Your voice will get deeper. You will get taller -”
“Then what happened to you?”
Félix’s face fell into a deadpan. “Camilo.”
“YOU SAID I COULD ASK CURIOUS QUESTIONS! THAT WAS A CURIOUS QUESTION!”
Sighing, Félix decided that he should have seen the height joke coming, and so he moved on, “Your shoulders will get broader -”
Camilo’s eyes went straight to Agustín’s scrawny body, and he bit down on his lip to stay quiet this time.
“What we’re saying is,” Pepa said, recognizing the fact her son was practically vibrating to not let go of a snarky comment, “you are going to be a big, grown boy now! And everything that’s happening to you is perfectly normal.”
“So my voi-ce,” Camilo began only to have his voice crack, and Pepa couldn’t help it - her expression must have given it away because Camilo began to flail his hands accusingly at her. “Mom!”
“Lo siento,” she said, and while there was a cloud above her, it didn’t stop her from genuinely smiling. It was just a lot of emotions all at once, seeing her little boy like this. “It’s just - my boy is growing all up.”
Camilo shifted in his seat, needing to flee before the conversation could turn mushy and more awkward than it already was. “My voice is gonna be normal again?” he asked Julieta. “Soon?”
“A bit deeper, but yes. Normal. No cracks.”
“Do the others have to know? That I’m changing?”
“I think there’s no way of hiding it, mijo,” Félix said, beaming with something that Camilo recognized to be pride. “You’re growing up. Be proud of it.”
Camilo winced. Being taller sounded nice, but his Gift had given him the ability to change however he wanted eight years ago. A broken voice, however, was not something he wanted at all. “Can I go now?”
“You don’t have any more ques-”
“No!” he said, already out of his chair. “Gracias!”
The adults watched as he fled up the stairs to his own room, and though both Julieta and Pepa shared a frown, Félix was quick to soothe his wife. “He’ll come with them once he’s ready.”
Pepa nodded, hoping that to be true. Then a new terrible thought hit her, and her face turned troubled.
“...Do you think he’s going to grow a mustache?”
They all chuckled - until Pepa and Julieta both thought of their young brother with his stupid, weak mustache, and they both fell silent.
With the conversation somewhat over with for now, the adults decided it was best not to bring it up again - at least not right now when Camilo looked more tense than the day before.
He was talking again, a good change, but his eyes were narrowed, and he kept a close watch on his primas.
He knew it was just a matter of time. And he was right.
It didn’t even matter if his voice failed him. He was already cursed by having a sister who knew everything and who, like every other teenage girl, liked to gossip.
Dolores was the first one to notice something. She tilted her head before leaning closer to Isabela, and once they were done whispering, they were both looking at him curiously.
Luisa was too occupied with her breakfast to notice, but Mirabel had sensed just how tense her primo was. “Are you mad, Milo?”
“No,” he grumbled without looking away from his sister. From the corner of his eyes, however, he saw his mom giving him an encouraging nod.
“So you do want to go to the river today?”
“Yeah,” he answered Mirabel, knowing now he couldn’t stay silent forever. And her idea did sound fun, enough to brighten his mood a little bit. “But in the afternoon, yeah? I promised Martín and Emmanuel-”
The sudden change of pitch had all the kids looking at him.
“What was that?” Luisa asked, just like the other day. She looked worried, whereas Isabela simply couldn’t hold back a snicker - Dolores had already filled her in on the details, and they’d both seen what puberty had done to the boys at their escuela.
That was the final straw for Camilo who stood up to yell: “I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!”
“Camilo!” Félix scolded him, and his tone was enough to have Camilo drop back into his seat. “They haven’t even started their teasing yet.”
“So you know they’re going to do it!” Camilo whined, ignoring the stern glance his abuela was currently sending him.
“It’s your primas and hermana - of course they will tease you.”
Pepa elbowed her husband and quickly added, “But you have nothing to be ashamed of!”
Antonio had grown very still and wide-eyed while Mirabel just looked very, very confused. She knew the outburst wasn’t directed at her, of course, and it wasn’t the first time Camilo had snapped at Isabela; she just didn’t understand why.
“Boys’ voices turn a little strange when they grow up,” Julieta explained. “But it’s very normal and it will pass soon.”
Mirabel nodded somberly; then she spun around in her seat and poked Camilo’s arm. “Say something!”
“No,” he whined and then he flinched when he heard Alma sigh loudly. Her disappointment had been the very thing he’d tried to avoid in the first place.
“Camilo. You cannot stay silent forever,” she chided. “Your body is maturing - your mind needs to follow suit.”
Though Félix didn’t really agree with her stern tone, he knew the words to be true and so he nodded. “It happens to all boys.”
“But I’m not just a boy!” Camilo cried and slammed his hands against the table. “I’M A SHAPESHIFTER! THIS CAN’T HAPPEN TO ME! I NEED TO -” He cut himself off with a choked gasp and slapped both hands against his face in a desperate attempt to hide from the shame of it all.
The girls were ushered out of the room, and after a silent conversation with her daughter, Alma left too, alongside Agustín and Julieta who took care of Antonio who’d grown teary-eyed at his brother’s yelling.
Camilo hadn’t moved, trying his very best to curl in on himself.
“Camilo,” Pepa said softly. “Camilito, look at me.”
He didn’t. If anything, he pressed his palms harder against his face, as if he could simply disappear into the darkness. Maybe, if he waited long enough -
“We are not going to leave, Milo,” Félix said, almost as if he could read his thoughts.
His chair tilted when Casita tilted its tiles in an attempt to comfort him. Camilo wished it didn’t work.
“Tell us what is wrong,” Pepa tried, and Camilo couldn’t help it. Slowly, he pulled his hands away to rub a fist across his wet cheek.
“I need my voice,” he said with a sniff. “I’ve tried to make it perfect and now it’s all ruined.” He thought the impressions had been the cause of the problem, but when it didn’t go away, he realized the true horror of it all. How could he ever pretend to be someone else when his failing voice would give him away? “I can’t shapeshift. I mean, I can. But I can’t pull it off without the voices.”
“Ah, mijo.” A grey cloud hovered above them as Pepa shared her son’s agony. The feeling of failure when struggling with one’s Gift wasn’t unfamiliar to her.
“I’ve been practicing really hard,” he said and hated the fact that he couldn’t stop crying. He was supposed to be a man now - that was the point of it all! “It’s not right! It’s not right if people can still tell it’s me. I can’t use my Gift! It’s useless, I’m -”
“Mijo.” This time it was Félix who looked at him with sad understanding eyes. “We know you are working so hard.”
“But - but it’s not just for work,” Camilo hiccupped, the tip of his ears red with shame. “I use my Gift for fun, too, and I need my voices!”
“I know.” Pepa reached across the table to grab his hand to he couldn’t hide behind his palm again. She was quick to start stroking his knuckles, hoping the touch would help calm him down. “I know, cariño, but you are growing up! That’s a wonderful, amazing thing! And we get to witness it! And we are so proud of you!”
It felt strange, growing up. A bit scary and very troublesome. But it wasn’t like Camilo hadn’t thought about how it’d feel like to be an adult. After all, his Gift had given him the ability to pretend. But it still didn’t sound fair - if growing up was something everyone had to do, then why did it come with so many disadvantages? Camilo had tried being tall and broad, he’d worn beards and mustaches, he’d done so much pretending, and yet, his body felt so unfamiliar, despite it practically being a pile of clay for him to play with.
“What if I don’t want to change?”
“You don’t want to be taller than your pa?” Félix asked with a wink.
“I can be that now.” To prove it, Camilo used his Gift to loom over his father who simply poked his arm to make him deflate into his thirteen-year-old body.
“You’re already the man of the house,” Pepa said, proudly, and tried her best to ignore how her heart broke at those very words. But this was about Camilo - thoughts about Bruno could wait for later. “It’s rough, growing up, yes. But there’s no fighting it. And no need for fighting it.”
Camilo sniffed for the final time. “Is something just as terrible going to happen to girls?” he couldn’t help but ask. This was all so very unfair, but it’d be just a little bit more fair if they had to suffer too.
“Oh, we have our own stuff to deal with,” Pepa said, and the way her eyes darkened, Camilo knew that to be true, though he actually didn’t want the details now when he thought twice about it.
“Does -” His throat tickled again, and the pitch was all wrong, so he coughed and tried again. “Growing boys need more food, right?”
That elicited a bark of laughter from Félix. “He got us there, mi amor.”
“My big boy,” Pepa said, eyes wet and proud all at once.
Their support did make Camilo feel better, but that was no surprise; his parents’ comfort always managed that. But, as he accepted their kind words and embrace, he promised himself to prank Isabela later.
That was only fair.