Bruno Madrigal Oneshots

The World Doesnt End (7)

by Lolapola on Ao3

warnings: slight panic attack(?)

summary: the + 1

Bruno is outside the door.

It's the first night they will all eat together, as a family, in 10 years. At least, the first night where they'll know he's there.

The worst has happened, but somehow it turned out to not be the worst after all.

Casita has fallen, and yet they're all still standing. Still a family, fractured and hurt as they all are.

And Bruno is outside the door, listening to the sounds of his family, loud and vibrant and alive as they've ever been, getting ready for dinner. It's muffled by the wall between them, the familiarity of which Bruno finds both comforting and a little disorienting.

The townsfolk have offered to open their homes to the Madrigals – even Bruno, he thinks, although he hasn't plucked up the courage to clarify yet. The rest of his family have gratefully accepted, but for tomorrow. Tonight, they have decided to sleep all together in the church. It's not a realistic long-term solution, and tomorrow they will be divided between the houses of their neighbours, but tonight, there's not a single member of the family that wants to be separated from each other.

So supplies have been gathered – blankets and cushions and the closest thing to a proper bed they can find for Abuela – and arranged in the centre of the church, the chairs pushed to the side, and a mountain of food delivered to the small kitchen. Julieta had commandeered it, of course, gleefully assisted by several of her family members. Bruno had quietly helped to carry supplies and generally tried to stay out of everyone's way.

And then dinner had been called, and Bruno had shied away from the stampede to the kitchen, finding it easy to slip out of sight and wait in the shadows until everyone was gone. He'd follow behind, he told himself, when it was quieter.

And now he's outside the door, and he can't make himself go in.

He stares at the doorknob, his heart pounding.

"This is stupid," he tells himself.

Another few seconds pass by.

He shuffles foot to foot, shakes his hands a little, and reaches for the doorknob.

Then he drops his hand again.

"Dios, just go in!" he mutters, frustrated, and doesn't move a muscle.

The second he goes in, he knows, the second he sits down to eat a meal with his family for the first time in 10 years, it'll be official. He'll be Back.

It's all he wants.

It's all he's wanted for 10 years – apart from, of course, the desire to keep them all safe.

"What if it's the same as before?" he whispers, giving voice to the thought that has been swimming in his head since Mirabel promised to bring him home. "What if - what if it's worse?"

He thinks for a moment, and then counters himself:

"Bueno, what if it's better?"

The shining hope he feels at that thought is almost enough to make him open the door.

Almost.

The truth is, he doesn't have a lot of options here. There's nowhere else, really, he can go. No Casita to hide in. If he leaves, this time, he'll have to leave. Leave the Encanto.

There are two things he knows for sure:

Number one: there's nothing he wants to do less than leave the Encanto.