Stubborn Things (Encanto) - Parts I & II

[Anonymouse]

@Spoo encouraged me to emerge from the shadow to share this with the forum! I am two years late to the Encanto craze - I saw it when it first came out, but something broke in my brain a couple of months back and now it’s all I think about. This was posted to tumblr but I know not everyone has one. I hope someone gets some enjoyment out of this! It will be four, maybe five parts. Bruno catches a cold and Julieta makes it her mission to help him feel better.

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Stubborn Things

Part I - Apertivos

Colds were stubborn things. Notoriously incurable, it’s only natural that they would pose a challenge to the woman who could heal almost anything. To Julieta, almost anything was an evasive mental itch, a thorn in her side, one elusive combination of ingredients away from becoming everything. What did it matter how many bones or tendons she could mend if she couldn’t even conquer the sniffles?

Julieta was a stubborn thing, too (and maybe, maybe a bit of a perfectionist). She resolved to solve this puzzle if it took the rest of her life. But that was, God willing, quite a few years yet. Her brother was sick now.

Ay, Bruno. Su conejito extraño. He was another thorn in her side (but how she’d missed him so!). So much like her Augustín at times that it was alarming, except Bruno’s chaos was more… deliberate, governed not by butterfingers and left feet, but a seemingly insatiable drive to push himself past his breaking point as often as possible. Despite having developed a robust immunity to most things (owed, in part, to a lifetime of keeping close company with rats), he was particularly susceptible to catching colds. Naturally, this made him the perfect lab rat for his sister’s culinary experiments. Julieta wouldn’t deny that she subjected him to a lot over the years, but nobody ever claimed the field of medicine was without its sacrifices.

Bruno was late to breakfast that morning, which was unusual. Since his return, he was always the first one at the table, so eager he was to make up for lost time with his family. Alma was in the middle of asking Antonio to go check on his tío when her son shuffled in, looking just as pale and tired as he did when he first emerged from the walls. Not that he ever looked particularly healthy. Coupled with the fact that his visions were known to sap his stamina, nobody thought to question his appearance. Bruno quietly apologized for his tardiness, then sat down at the table and cleared his throat a few times, covering up the sound of his fist knocking against his chair. Julieta heard a hint of something in his voice, something that kept drawing her attention back to him as the meal progressed.

Only a few minutes had passed before he scraped his chair away from the table, burying his face in the sleeve of his ruana to stifle a volley of sneezes. A pair of rats dropped to the floor before scurrying away. The conversations around the table ceased abruptly, giving way to stares and scattered blessings. Bruno sniffled, withering under his family’s collective acknowledgement.

“Sorry! Sorry…” It was unclear if he was apologizing to them or his rats.

Camilo resumed (or perhaps never stopped) his reenactment of the argument he had witnessed at the market that morning, talking quickly and switching rapidly between faces in a way that reminded Julieta of cards being shuffled. Her nephew had been so eager to share what he saw that nothing else seemed to register for him. She flicked her gaze back to Bruno as he returned to the table, looking upset with himself for having interrupted. He reached instinctively for the salt cellar, but then met his mother’s eyes and withdrew his hand as if from a flame. It swung around to grip at his left arm instead. Julieta recognized this as a self-soothing gesture, except this time Bruno’s fingers were digging into his arm.

“Are you feeling okay, tío?” Dolores asked, having lost interest in her brother’s story a long time ago. “You’ve been sneezing all morning.”

Bruno shot Dolores a look of betrayal so dramatic he could have been performing a scene from one of his telenovelas. While he was distracted, Julieta seized the opportunity to reach across the table for his forehead. “Are you getting sick, manito?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bruno said, dodging her hand and sliding down in his chair. He started to pull his hood up, but when Alma cleared her throat in disapproval he yanked it back down again, sitting up straighter. “Really, I feel great, I’m just, uh… still getting used to the air out here, you know.”

Nobody seemed convinced, least of all Bruno himself, but nobody challenged him, either. At least, not until he interrupted Alma during her morning rundown. He had just enough notice to stutter out a breathless apology and twist away from the table, crushing his fist against his nose. Julieta winced as he stifled two sneezes into silence without a breath in between. She kicked her brother under the table, frustrated by his stubbornness, and mouthed stop it. How many times did she - did they all have to tell him not to do that? Bruno blinked, looking dizzy and indignant at having been cheated out of his usual pattern of three sneezes. His retaliation efforts were less than successful; Julieta saw him bite his lip to hold back a curse as his foot struck the leg of the table instead of her own.

Alma, wearing an impassive expression, cleared her throat and waited patiently for her grown children to settle. While Bruno was preoccupied with his body’s latest betrayal, she casually brushed his curls back from his forehead to rest her hand there. He looked at his mother in stunned silence, breathing more quickly than usual through slightly parted lips.

“Bruno is unwell,” she stated matter-of-factly as she withdrew her hand, then held it up to cut off his objection. “He will remain in Casita today so he can rest.”

Julieta was surprised; Bruno actually had a few appointments lined up for this morning. Their mother never used to let something like a cold get in the way of her family’s obligations to the town. They were all still getting used to this new Alma, who, while not perfect, was learning to see the benefits of resting and recovering over crashing and burning. Julieta sat up a little straighter, wondering how much further she could push their luck.

“Mamá, if it would be alright-” she began, and Bruno, apparently aware of where this was going, started shaking his head.

“Uh, no, nope, not uh,” he said, rapping his fist against the table with each syllable.

“-I’d like to stay here too and test out some new recipes-” 

Bruno continued to shake his head. Julieta closed her mouth and frowned, genuinely wounded by his fervent refusal. “Do you have so little faith in me?” she asked, and that was all it took for his protests to melt into praise.

“Juli, you are incredible, and you know I know you can do anything, I’m just… .” He swallowed nervously as she eyed his untouched plate. “Full? So full. I, uh, ate earlier, you know, I’m still getting used to the new schedule, well, I guess the old schedule, and besides, and most importantly, I’m not sick, so it would b-be a w-waste to… heh!”

Julieta prided herself on being the most mature of her siblings, but something about Bruno always called her inner child out to play. She just couldn’t resist the urge to tease when the opportunities presented themselves. Catching a glimpse of Pepa across the table, smirking as their brother’s breath hitched helplessly, only egged her on further. “Perdona, a waste to what?” Julieta asked, fully aware that providing clarification in his current state would pose a challenge. 

He surprised her by squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath before forcing it back into a steady rhythm. She had never seen him do that before - a technique he learned living in the walls, perhaps? Had he been doing that for the last ten years to avoid detection? Julieta was impressed with his self-control, but she could imagine how unsatisfying it must have felt to deny his body something it desperately needed to do. Bruno didn’t look like he was going to sneeze anymore, but he did look ten times more miserable than before.

“Disculpe…” He sighed it more than spoke it, then sniffled again, wincing at how wet it sounded. “I forgot what I was saying.”

“Ay, mijo.” Alma passed him her unused napkin before waving her hand at him, directing him to turn away from the table and blow his nose. She then turned to Julieta. “You will stay with your brother today and see what you can do. I’m sure Mirabel would be happy to bring your food into town. We have those new herbs that Isabela grew. Perhaps they’ll do the trick for your…” She paused as Bruno blew his nose, then looked at him pointedly. “… purposes, today.”

He gave a little cough as he crumpled the napkin in his lap. “I suppose I don’t get a say in any of this.”

Julieta shook her head and he huffed out a sigh, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. He seemed resigned to his fate. Good. That would make things go a lot more smoothly for the both of them.

Edited Tuesday at 02:38 PM by Anonymouse
Italics

[angora48]

This is good, poor Bruno! Being squirrely and evasive seems like a fitting reaction for him, and of course Julieta's determined to figure out how to help. Looking forward to more!

[Anonymouse]

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts, angora! 😁 Squirrely is the perfect word for it - I hope I’m doing his character justice!

I apologize for the lack of spellings - I was still feeling pretty rusty when I started this story but now that I’m working on the last chapter, I’m starting to work some spellings in. I’ve always struggled with stifles anyway, especially the ones that barely make any noise, and he insisted on stifling through this and the next part, so. 🤷‍♀️

Part II - Intermezzo

Things were not going smoothly.

Somewhere between most of the family heading out to town and Julieta collecting the plates to be washed, Bruno absconded from the room. Typical. She only took her eyes off him for a few seconds, but that was all he ever needed. He could still move pretty fast for someone who just returned from a ten-year sojourn complaining of sore joints and back pain.

Julieta tracked him down with help from Antonio and the two rats that had joined them at breakfast. “They’re worried about him,” Antonio reported, when Julieta asked why they were so quick to “rat” out their companion. He stopped and seemed to listen to the impassioned squeaks of the rat riding on his right shoulder before continuing. “And they’re tired of getting scared and shooken around every time he sneezes.”

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle. If those noiseless stifles were enough to startle his rodents, she couldn’t imagine how they would handle his sneezes at full force. Once upon a time, the youngest Madrigal triplet was notorious for his huge, house-rattling sneezes. There were times when they quite literally rattled the house, confirming that Casita was not immune to being startled. His sneezing was just as much an annoyance for his mother and sisters as it was a source of amusement. They used to joke that as the man of the house, his sneeze had to be imposing (especially since nothing else about him was). Bruno never found it as amusing as they did and was very much embarrassed by his lack of volume control. Pepa swore he was loud for attention, but Julieta knew he hated the scrutiny and would have given anything to be invisible when it happened. No matter how hard he tried, he just never seemed to be able to get a grip on it.

All of that changed the night Dolores received her gift. Nearly blowing out his niece’s newly hyper-sensitive eardrums was traumatic enough for him to commit to finding an immediate solution. Even if that solution was learning to painfully stifle his sneezes for the rest of his life. Dolores learned to control her gift to some degree, but even with her explicit permission, and the reassurance that his sneezes were but a drop in the ocean of sounds that bombarded her daily, Bruno clung to the habit. It became another form of self-inflicted punishment in his extensive repertoire.

Surely the practice was a boon in the walls, but there was no use for it now. His method seemed to draw more attention and admonishments than ever before; it truly served no purpose under these conditions except to self flagellate. Julieta resolved to help him break this behavior once and for all, but she would have to find him and cure his cold first. She tried not to overthink the loftiness of these goals.

At least finding him was easy enough. The rats led them to the downstairs sitting room, where they found Bruno slumped on the floor between the chaise lounge and a bookshelf. It reminded Julieta of how he used to play hide and seek with her girls, tucking himself away in the most obvious of places just to make them laugh. With the hood of his ruana up and most of his face in shadow, his expression was hard to read; she suspected it lacked the mirth those memories carried for them. Julieta reached down to touch his head gingerly, frowning at the heat that radiated from his skull.

“Brunito,” she said, lowering her hand.

It was more of a gentle command than a greeting. He didn’t decline her helping hand, to her surprise and relief. With a groan and some effort - more than it should have taken, even at their age - Bruno got to his feet. Once he was as upright as he was going to get he leaned into her, allowing himself to be guided back towards the kitchen. His docility was convenient but concerning, a sign that he was too ill to flee or put up a fight.

Antonio suddenly grabbed her other hand, uncertain as he looked up at his tía for further guidance. Julieta felt bad for involving him for this long already. She was still working on not treating the children like little adults, as had been their family’s tradición tóxico for as long as she could remember.

“Gracias, Antonio,” she said, ruffling his curls as she tightened her arm around her brother’s shoulders. “You were a big help this morning. Your tío will be good as new once I’m through with him, won’t you, tío?”

Right on cue, Bruno flashed his nephew a weak smile and a thumbs-up. It was all Antonio needed to feel reassured. He stretched his arms as wide as he could to hug his aunt and uncle simultaneously, then climbed up onto his jaguar.

“Feel better, tío,” he said, giving a little goodbye wave as they lurched towards the front door. “I’m going to see if Abuela needs my help now. Los quiero!”

“Gracias, pollito,” Bruno said, his voice straining against something more than just emotion. “Te queremos.”

As soon as the front door closed he folded into his sister’s side with a series of spluttering coughs. Julieta held him steady and rubbed his back, shushing his choked apologies and flinching as her hand bumped against a mysterious lump. No sooner did it disappear than she heard a thump and the scrabbling of tiny claws against the tiles. Malditas ratas en todas partes. Such a nuisance, but she had to admit their concern for him was sweet. She could hear the pitter patter of at least a dozen little feet as she and Bruno resumed their cortège toward the kitchen.

His body felt warm against hers and his collar was damp with sweat. He was sniffling more after his coughing fit; Julieta could feel his nose scrunching up against her shoulder where his face was buried. When they were just a few steps from the kitchen he stopped abruptly, causing Julieta to nearly trip over their feet.

“Estás bien?” she asked, working to regain her balance and his.

Bruno responded with a series of urgent breaths, scrambling to tuck his nose into the folds of his ruana. Julieta winced as his body shook against her twice, both sneezes tightly and painstakingly contained. She found herself blessing him rather than scolding him, and actively suppressing the urge to do the latter. She didn’t have the heart to kick him this time, either, and quite frankly, she was concerned she might hurt an innocent rat if she tried. Instead she waited patiently while he struggled towards a third sneeze that had no interest in making an appearance. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, Bruno lifted the other to hover indecisively in front of his face. A quick glance at the cloudless sky above the courtyard prompted a few breaths that sounded promising, but ultimately failed to deliver. For some reason he didn’t use that little light trick of his again; Julieta suspected he was growing too self-conscious and chose to accept defeat in lieu of further embarrassment.

“Híjole,” was all he could say as he leaned into her again, sounding as woozy as he looked.

“Pobrecito,” Julieta crooned, handing him a napkin from her apron pocket.

They continued on, Julieta keeping a close eye on her brother in case he decided to pull another surprise stop. He did, but only to dig through a pocket and throw salt over his left shoulder. Then he sucked in a breath, held it, and knocked against the doorframe as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Julieta snuck in a knock or two along with him. 

Just in case.

[angora48]

Gaaah, so sweet! I loved Antonio telling Julieta the rats were worried about Bruno too, and Julieta knocking on the door frame along with Bruno.

On 5/14/2024 at 9:37 AM, Anonymouse said:

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle. If those noiseless stifles were enough to startle his rodents, she couldn’t imagine how they would handle his sneezes at full force. Once upon a time, the youngest Madrigal triplet was notorious for his huge, house-rattling sneezes. There were times when they quite literally rattled the house, confirming that Casita was not immune to being startled. His sneezing was just as much an annoyance for his mother and sisters as it was a source of amusement. They used to joke that as the man of the house, his sneeze had to be imposing (especially since nothing else about him was). Bruno never found it as amusing as they did and was very much embarrassed by his lack of volume control. Pepa swore he was loud for attention, but Julieta knew he hated the scrutiny and would have given anything to be invisible when it happened. No matter how hard he tried, he just never seemed to be able to get a grip on it.

This was sooooooo good. It's very Bruno to 1) be super embarrassed at the attention from his loud sneezes and 2) decide to painfully stifle them after Dolores gets her gift.

Love it!