Bruno Madrigal Oneshots

Blind to the present

by Daantjie_fanatics on Ao3

warnings: ocd thoughts/actions (i couldn't think of any else so comment if i'm missing something)

summary: Bruno finds it harder and harder to repress a prophecy as he sits through the first family meal since casita is rebuilt. Failing, he escapes and Pepa is naturally suspicious. Finding him, she realises just how much prophecies can affect her brother.

---------------------------------------------------------

The table was set with every manner of delicacy Julieta could think of, each dish infused with her newly-returned magic. She hadn't let anyone in her kitchen to even help serve, and now she sat at Abuela's side glowing from her efforts.

Bruno and Pepa hadn't been so lucky with the returns of their gifts. Pepa kept glancing above her, nervous again after a month of freeing her feelings for the first time in forty-five years. Distracted just enough and holding onto her plait, Pepa managed to keep a cloud at bay. Likewise, with the opening of Casita's door, Bruno had been hit with a headache. After a month clear-headed, the old pain felt ten-fold but he sprung up a false smile and continued his calming rituals, steadied by the family around him.

Sitting at the table that evening, Bruno tried hard not to sway as his migraine climbed. Hot as a fever it pressed against the back of his eyes, and the food before him, the healing, steaming, sickly, soft plates made his throat bob with nausea. If he could suffer enough to swallow, his headache should recede, but Bruno remembered well enough that by this point it wasn't the pain that pushed against his skull, but the simmering persistence of a future. A moment was ringing to be seen.

"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood." Bruno felt something within him settle.

"Brunito, eat!" Julieta pushed yet another side plate towards him with a grin. Bruno picked a little food from his own and brought it to his face, and when Julieta looked away he left it on his shoulder for a rat to pull into his hood. He heard a squeak and the corner of his mouth pulled up.

"Hermano, can I fill your glass?" Agustín stretched a bottle to Bruno. Bruno smiled and put a hand over the rim in response.

"Gracias, but no."

And just like that conversation melted over the table again and Bruno was able to shrink amongst it with his nods and echoed answers. Striking the backs of his eyes, Bruno's headache pierced with an intensity he could see through his eyelids. Pressing closed his eyes, Bruno pinched the bridge of his nose with a grunt. Breathing, he threw a little salt over his shoulder and prayed for his eyes to dull to a normal shade.

"Hermano?" Felíx put a hand on his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"Si! Si, yes I'm okay. Eyelashes aren't sitting right- I mean there's something in my eye." He fumbled with the back of his chair as he tried to stand with his eyes shut. "Just gonna wash it out quick."

He gave a tight smile, and reached down by his feet. Pulling his bucket up and onto his head, Jorge convinced them.

"I am Jorge, and I'll help him."

The children paying attention laughed and most of the family turned back to the table knowing Bruno was well enough to be keeping up his antics. Bruno turned and walked not in the direction of a sink but out into the hall. Subconsciously, Pepa noticed this.

Bruno walked forwards with his arms outstretched. He opened his eyes and saw... a girl, a girl of about five playing on the floor. The vision had started, he had to get to his room.

"Casita..." he begged.

Pepa excused herself from her chair when she saw the sky darken. She was sure this time it wasn't her mood affecting the clouds, and Bruno had just left. Pausing in the hallway, Bruno was stood in the centre, arms outstretched and bucket still on his head, sand from the floor beginning to sweep up around him.

"...help." He mumbled weakly, and Pepa wasn't sure who it was directed to. She didn't care. She strode up beside him and put a hand in one of his. He flinched.

"Bruno, it's me, don't worry." Pepa began to lift the bucket with her other hand, and Bruno relaxed. His eyes were lit that luminous lime shade, perhaps that's what he'd been hiding... but no. That wasn't all of it. His eyes were staring, unfocused ahead. His arms outstretched, posture like he was lost.

"Bruno? Can you... what can you see?" Pepa hesitated.

"Just a girl." Was that all? "Please, I, uh, I can't get to my room like this. I can't find..."

Pepa shook herself and put a hand on Bruno's back. "This way, the step is here." Pepa watched Bruno's feet, glancing up at his face to check. In forty-five years she'd never considered that when he looked into the future, that was all he could see. That he was actually blind. She came to a mortifying realisation of how terrifying that helplessness must be, especially the first time, or every time he was sat with a stranger- blinded and prophesying fates that may not be met well.

Bruno sobbed.

Pepa pushed open his door, "what is it?"

"Lo siento, it's nothing." He retorted. But he looked heartbroken, gasping and crying. "Sorry."

Pepa sat with Bruno, rubbing his back in the middle of the sand storm. She felt entirely too small to do anything else.

Gradually, he came back to himself there. He was wheezing, and once he managed to get his breathing to calm, he dug his pockets for a pinch of sand. He didn't say a word.

Pepa made the first move, "Hermanito, what did you see."

He rested his head on his knees and drew patterns in the sand. "You don't have to ask. You've done so much. I couldn't get here in time because I kept holding it off, I should have known. You shouldn't have had to help. Lo siento."

"No." Pepa felt her temper rising, realising Bruno had trained himself into isolation. Bruno looked up at her with such dark, glassy eyes. She softened her anger down and reached for his hands. "I was glad I found you. We're siblings, we help each other. I want to help you, help you feel less like you have to do this alone. So please, tell me what you saw."

Bruno didn't quite believe it, but spoke anyway, "There is a girl. She's playing in her room. Then something happens, I couldn't quite make it out, or even if it's to do with her- but... the room catches fire." Bruno bit his lip. "I don't think she makes it."

Pepa withheld a gasp. There's a catastrophe. That Bruno saw, that Bruno was forced to watch, possibly live through. He has to tell someone, has to bring bad news, or bear the weight of not having acted. That's the curse to his gift, no winning side. Unless, he shares the load. "We'll tell mami. After dinner, once the celebration is over. We'll tell her what you saw. She'll help us figure out what it means or who to talk to. Does that sound good?"

Bruno nodded. "But-"

"I'm offering, I want to be there."

Bruno sighed. His eyes lightened with a soft smile like a thanks. Pepa got up.

"Come on."

Bruno looked to the door, daunted. The bags under his eyes are dark again but Pepa keeps her hand held out. "You don't have to go back out there, but you can't lie here."

"I don't have a bed." Bruno said, and that shatters her.

"Okay, then we'll get a spare mattress and bring it in the morning. Tonight you can sleep in my room. Come, I'll bring you some food as well."

Bruno took her hand, shaking slightly from everything. But the fact Pepa has kept herself calm enough to help him through all this is enough to steady him on his feet. Hand in hand, a rainbow halos Pepa's head and she leads them to the door. For the first time in way too long, she feels a solidarity with her brother strong enough to make her forget the overpowering nature of their gifts.