Chapter Text
“Senora Rodriguez? What’s a Papa?”
The woman didn’t look down at Mirabel the way the other adults she asked did. She didn’t look sad, or like Mirabel’s a dummy for asking, or like it’s something obvious Mirabel should’ve already known. She just smiled a small, tense smile, and Mirabel wasn’t sure she liked it but it was better than the reactions she had gotten from her other teachers.
“A Papa? Well, a Papa is the person that earns money and provides for you, and keeps you safe.”
Oh… huh, Bruno does all those things.
… That must mean he’s her Papa!
~
*BANG*, *BANG*, *BANG*, *BANG!*
Mirabel watches as Bruno- no sorry, Jorge, hammers nails into a plank of wood he’s using to patch up a newly discovered hole in the roofing of their home. It’s not the first one, not by a long shot, and Mira has to wonder how they’d missed it for so long.
She kicks her dangling feet back and forth as she watches, keeping out of the way and keeping an eye on Bruno’s newest green sculptures he’s going to sell. She’s got to make sure they don’t get broken on accident.
She’s always called him Bruno. That’s just… what he’s been called her entire life. She likes to think her first word had been ‘Bruno’, but she hasn’t asked him so she doesn’t actually know if it was or not. She hopes it was.
He sells pretty green carvings to make money, and he does fortune telling to make even more money, all so he can buy food so they both can eat… and he’s fixing the roof, to protect them from the rain.
Senora Rodriguez said that’s what Papas do, they make money and protect you.
So Bruno must be her Papa!
He hops down off the ladder. He must be done with the roof! She hurries over and hugs him, knocking the bucket off his head as she does so.
“Thank you Papa, you’re the best!”
“Woah, woah woah woah hold on…”
Rough hands press gently on her shoulders, nudging her away so she can look at his face. She frowns when she sees his expression, did she say something wrong?
“Mirabel… I’m not your Papa, alright? I’m just your Tio.”
She pouts. He doesn’t say that often, but when he does he always looks super sad! She doesn’t want him to be sad. She wonders what a Tio even is, maybe she’ll ask Senora Rodriguez next time she’s at school.
“You’re mi Papi.” He flinches, his eyes wide with feelings she’s big enough to know she’s too small to understand as his hands tighten on her shoulders.
“No, I’m not. You have a Papa, and he sure isn’t me.” Mirabel frowns. She has a Papa? A Papa who’s not Bruno? Papas make money and keep you safe, right? So where’s this other Papa?
She’s only ever known Bruno…
“Nu uh, you’re my Papa.” He’s frowning now, but Mira refuses to accept his obvious lies. Of course they’re lies! The only Papa she has is Bruno.
“Mira–”
“Papa!” She grabs his green ruana in her hands, bunching the worn fabric tightly as she tugs him closer, wanting hugs. Wanting him to agree with her. Agree that he’s her Papa.
He looks around their tiny home with twitchy movements, as though he’s looking for an escape or trying to find some reason she’s wrong. But their rickety wooden walls and the rats laying on their worn mattresses they have stuffed in the back corners to sleep on don’t help him. Of course not, because she’s not wrong.
He looks back at her and she stares pleadingly up at him, gripping his clothes tighter.
“Daddy?”
He slumps in defeat, and she knows she’s won. He gives her the hug she’s after, brushing her hair with his thin scarred fingers. People say he has “workers' hands” , and Mira thinks they must be right since Bruno’s always working so hard. It feels nice, she likes it, but that’s probably because she likes Bruno.
“... Alright… alright.”
::::
“Uh, Senora Rodriguez?”
Her teacher looked over with a frown.
“Mirabel? Shouldn’t you be outside?”
“Uh, yeah, um…” She tugged on her dress self-consciously. “I just… wanted to ask… what’s a Mama?”
Her teacher stared for a second, before placing the book she’d been reading on her desk.
“What is a Mama.” She echoed Mirabel’s question thoughtfully. “A Mama is the one that names you, and teaches you about the world, and takes care of you when you feel sick.”
Huh…
… Bruno has done all those things. Does that mean… he’s her Mama too?
~
Mirabel is big enough to know that Bruno is holding her like this because there’s nothing else he can do.
The sloshing sound of water as Bruno rewets the rag to put on her forehead makes her tummy roll, it’s like it’s doing a summersault! He presses the cold scrap of fabric to her damp forehead and she shudders, her body can’t decide if it feels good or not.
There’s a numb tingling in her left arm, her throat burns, her head is exploding, her belly is hurting, and her back is littered with angry blisters she’s too exhausted to scratch at. Bruno says she shouldn’t scratch at them anyway, so she supposes that’s a good thing.
He’s holding her in spite of all her grossness though, arms tight and secure around her as he presses the cool rag to her forehead in a vain attempt to help as much as he can.
(All the doctors are gone, there’s nothing else he can do…)
“Mama? ‘m cold.”
He jerks, and she wonders if he’s going to argue like he had last time she called him something other than his name, but the rag is put back on her face as he sighs wearily.
“You’re sweating buckets, Mi_a.”
… Did… did he call her Mira or Mija? Her head’s so fuzzy… she can’t tell… so she chooses to pretend he called her Mija. The thought of him calling her that fills her with a warmth separate from the burning… she prefers it, it feels nicer.
“Ma?” She croaks, coughing and spluttering as Bruno presses a cup of clean water to her mouth. She drinks greedily and guiltily. She’s wasting water. “Mmmah? T-tell me ‘bout m’ name again? Please?”
The air is scraping against her back, against her sores, and she just wants to hear her favourite story from her favourite person. Even though the other kids at school don’t think it’s much of a story, but she’s never been one to care about what they think of these kinds of things.
“Your name?” She starts to nod, but the movement makes her feel too icky so she stops. “Alright well, hmmm.”
She tries to get as comfortable as she can, but her whole body is fighting against her and she’s uncomfy and hurting no matter what she tries, so she gives up and just lays there expectantly, trying to stay awake. Bruno adjusts his hold on her to press their foreheads together, and Mira just stares at his smile. She knows he’s hiding his worry behind it, and she’s worried he’ll catch whatever it is she’s got by being so close.
When he speaks, his voice is a soft careful whisper that soothes her ears and does nothing to the pounding in her head. “Mirabel Miracle Madrigal… Mirabel Miracle Pérez…” Oh yeah, they have two different last names, though everyone calls them Senor and Senorita Pérez. Mirabel’s not sure why, she’s always prefered the other one, but Bruno said he’ll tell her when she’s older. “‘Mirabel’, means ‘wondrous’. You are a wondrous Miracle, because you’re special all on your own, just the way you are.”
He leans forward to nudge his nose against hers in a sickness kiss. Real kisses would spread the germs, Bruno says, so nose-based sickness kisses were their compromise. Mirabel nudges back, trying not to giggle at her Mama’s sweet words. Her throat doesn’t need any giggle pains.
It takes several long, gruelling weeks (perhaps a few months), but eventually her blisters are scarred over and her sickness is gone, and the first thing she does with her newly refound freedom is smooch Bruno on his scruffy cheek in gratitude.
“Gracias, Mami!”
He just shakes his head, flailing his messy black hair around as he sets about gathering up their three rat friends, and Mirabel is happy he didn’t argue with the obvious truth this time.
::::
The wooden planks that made up the stairs to the School House were rough and wobbly beneath her butt as she sat, watching the other kids run around. They said they were playing games, but to Mirabel what they were doing had just looked boring.
Eventually, she was joined by the teacher she least hated.
“Mirabel? Why are you sitting here all alone? Why don’t you go play with your classmates?”
Mirabel tilted her head. “They said the game’s just for siblings, so I can’t play ‘cause I’m an only kid.”
“Ah, I see.”
They sat together in silence for a moment, and Mirabel just had to ask.
“Senora Rodriguez? What… what is a sibling, anyway?”
She stared at the other kids, refusing to see her teacher’s reaction to her question. It’s probably one of those ‘everyone knows that’ things.
“Well, if a sibling is a girl they’re a hermana, and if they’re a boy they’re a hermano.” Mira absorbed the new information like a sponge, eager to learn about how siblings worked. “A sibling is someone you grow up with, and who plays games with you.”
… Oh…
… Well, she grew up with Bruno, and Bruno plays all kinds of games with her!
That must mean that, on top of being her Papa and her Mama, he must also be her hermano. Her brother.
In that case, the other kids could leave her out of their games all they wanted, because when she goes home she’ll have Bruno to play with.
She didn’t need anybody else.
~
Mirabel is big enough to start thinking that Bruno just calls this a ‘game’ because he wants her to not panic and play by the rules.
For her own safety, of course, because Bruno is her Papa and Papas protect you, but…
The rug had been pushed slightly to the side, revealing that square of loose flooring which Bruno pulls up like a lid, his fingers wedged in the gaps between the boards, to expose the small hole he had dug underneath.
He dug that hole so long ago now that Mira doesn’t remember when it had been put there. She knows Bruno must have dug it though, at some point.
“O-Okay, Mira, time for an-nother game of Hidey Hole.” She hates how wobbly his voice and smile are. He’s trying so hard to hide how scared he is from her, but he’s always been a terrible liar. Mirabel tries to remain calm, though, because that’s what Bruno wants her to do.
“Hidey Hole? You’ll play with me, right?” If she’s got to hide in the hole, she wants her Bruno to hide with her. But the strain on his smile tells her he won’t. He won’t hide with her. She frowns, because if she doesn’t frown she’ll probably start crying instead.
“Ah, well, the hole’s not big enough for both of us, a-and someone needs to put the floor back, right? Come on.” He picks her up, hands firm and stable around her waist to quickly plop her into the hole, setting her against the dirt. He does so speedily, and Mirabel is big enough to know she’s too big to be carried for too long without hurting him.
(She misses when he could carry her around all the time…)
“You remember the rules, right?”
“Uh huh. Stay quiet and don’t leave the hole ‘til you come get me.”
His smile softens and Mirabel brightens at the sight. She made him proud! He leans closer to press a lickety-split kiss to her forehead, placing something warm and fuzzy into her hands as he does so.
As he pulls back to grab the hole cover, she stares down at the tiny rat resting happily in her hands.
“Nana will keep you company, alright?”
She cuddles the small, brown coloured rat closer to her chest. “Alright.”
As he draws the floor over to cover the hole with, he pauses to give her a worried smile. He’s trying not to look worried though, she can tell, he’s just bad at lying.
“Love you, kid.”
Mirabel beams, hoping her happy smile would reassure him a little. He’s so anxious, he needs the reassurance.
“Love you too hermano!”
Bruno’s smile drops, his brows furrowing at her. Why is he looking at her like that?
“Wha–”
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*!!!
Whatever he was going to ask her is cut off. They’re here! It’s muffled, but she can hear loud man-voices yelling from outside.
The cover is hastily placed over her hole, sliding into place as Bruno pulls the rug to cover half of the lid; leaving plenty of space for light and air to get in through the gaps.
His sandaled footsteps hurry away from her hiding spot, rushing to answer the door and meet with the angry men.
(Mirabel is scared…)
She huddles Nana closer, stroking the creature’s soft back as she strains her ears to try and hear as much of what is going on as possible. She… can’t hear a lot.
She hears the angry men, with voices she doesn’t recognise, and she hears Bruno’s soft, quieter responses, but the words are too far away for her to make out.
She wishes she had the power to hear things from far away, like how Bruno can see the future. Maybe then she could hear what’s going on.
She can’t, though, and she’s scared. Is Bruno going to be okay?
The thundering of approaching footsteps cause Mirabel to tense, clutching Nana just a little bit closer as the voices become clearer.
“_nyone else?”
“Ah, no __ just me __ here.”
“Search __!”
“Wai- AGH! ”
A thud, it was… really loud. She can hear groaning… Bruno’s groaning! Bruno’s hurt!
She buries her face in Nana’s fur as she trembles. She has to stick to the rules. Stay quiet, stay in the hole.
Someone’s walking on her hole lid. She doesn’t like this at all…
“So, what’cha do for a livin’?”
“U-um, p-p-palm readings a-and sculptures–”
“Bah, circus tricks!”
Mirabel glares at the darkness in front of her. They’re not circus tricks, Bruno’s the real deal!
“Lookit this place, there ain’t no way he’s got anythin’ good here. It’s a total dump!”
No, this is their home! It’s not a dump! The scary men don’t know what they’re talking about.
“These shiny things aren’t even made of anythin’ good, it’s glass! Just kill ‘im so we can move on.”
… What? Kill… kill Bruno? No! No, they can’t! She hasn’t finished growing yet, she doesn’t want to see him buried in the ground like Senor Sanchez.
No, she needs him, she loves him! He can’t leave her! He can’t, she won’t let him.
(If he dies before she’s fully grown, would he not be her brother anymore? She… she supposes he wouldn’t be much of anything anymore. He’d be a lump in the ground, just like Senor Sanchez...)
One of the men scoffs, and Mirabel’s trembling freezes.
“Kill this guy? Ay, livin’ here may as well be a worse sorta torture, let’s be real.”
“Ya got a point there!”
The men start laughing and Mirabel doesn’t want to hear any more. Placing Nana carefully on her hunched up knees, she covers her ears with her hands and curls up more in the hole.
She wants Bruno. She wants his hugs, and his stories, and his kisses, and–
There’s another loud thud, or- or a crack, or something and… it sounds so painful, is Bruno okay? He has to be okay!
The men leave, and everything goes quiet…
.
.
.
… Did… did they do it? Did they… kill Bruno? Did the bad men kill her Papa-Mama-Hermano?
If they did… she doesn’t want to know, she doesn’t want to see…
She’ll just… stay in this hole. Forever. With Nana.
She stiffens when she hears the rug move. The rug… is being pulled away? And the floor above her is being pulled off…
‘Bruno!’
He’s got blood running down the side of his face (the right side, though for him it’s the left…) and he’s panting heavily, he looks really tired, but he’s alive!
Nana takes the opening as a chance to leap out and scuttle away, but Mira doesn’t care. She just reaches for her Bruno.
His hands lead her out of the hole as she climbs out of the dirt and into his arms. She clings to him as he replaces the floor and covers it properly with the rug.
He gets shakily to his feet, so she follows suit so she can maintain her grip on him as he walks them over to the chair.
The chair is small and wooden, and Mirabel likes how one of the legs is shorter than the others. It’s fun to rock back and forth, and she has many vague, old memories of Bruno rocking her in that chair when she’d been a baby because they couldn’t afford a proper rocking chair.
He sits heavily, pulling her into his lap and holding her tightly. She decides not to mention how his arms are shivering, he might let go of her if she does.
She grips at the back of his shirt as she slumps into him, feeling safe as she listens to his heartbeat. He’s still here, he’s still alive!
“We’ll be okay…”
She relaxes. She won the game of Hidey Hole, and she still has Bruno. That makes it a double win! She’ll help him clean up his blood later.
“We’ll be okay.”
She believes him.
After all, Bruno can see the future!
And he’s a terrible, terrible liar.
::::
Mirabel stared down at the upturned dirt, not entirely sure how she was supposed to feel.
Another lump in the dirt, at least it wasn’t Bruno’s lump…
It was made very close to Senor Sanchez’s, though.
Everyone Mirabel knew was gathered around, heads bowed at the fresh lump in silence. Bruno stood next to her, holding her hand.
She tugged on it, easily drawing his attention away from the gloomy scene they stood in.
“Papa? Can we go home now?”
Bruno frowned, looking her over with concern, but led her away quietly. He never liked the sight of the lumps, she had to wonder if it’s because he knew they were coming.
Mirabel felt… sad. She still had Bruno, but she’d lost someone else. She lost the answerer to the questions everyone else already knew.
(She never even got to ask her what a Tio is…)