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"Would I be happy in Encanto?" Catalina pressed.
"I..." Bruno trailed off. That was a good question, and one that Bruno didn’t quite know how to answer. His immediate response was yes, of course, because Encanto made everyone happy, it just did, but the more he thought about it, the less certain he was. He couldn't predict the future. Well, he could, but he had a feeling that that wasn't what Catalina was asking. He wished Julieta was here. She knew how to fix things.
A gunshot rang out. Catalina cried out in pain, or perhaps surprise, and Bruno felt her stagger.
"Catalina!" He caught her before she could fall to the ground. "Are you okay?"
"Someone shot me," Catalina said in disbelief, and Bruno felt something warm and icky seep into his rauna. He had caught her under the arms, so he could tell the blood was coming from her side- near her heart- and Bruno felt his own heart sink into his gut and wished, once again, that Julietta was here.
"Someone shot me," Catalin repeated with a growl. She sounded pissed off, and Bruno felt her stand and step forward as if to attack someone, which, not a good idea, so he grabbed her arm and stumbled back.
“No, nonono, not a good idea,” Bruno said, his hand trembling on her arm. He pulled her back and struggled into the forest. "You need to get help, you need to get back to camp, I'll- I'll hold them off, you run-"
"don't be an idiot," Catalina growled as they got out of the open. "You can't even see."
"But you need a healer!"
"I've got something better."
Bruno heard a crunch, and Catalina sprang out of his arms.
"Oh, that is amazing!" she said, popping her back. Then, out of nowhere, she threw Bruno to the ground.
A gunshot rang out almost in unison, and Bruno felt the whizz of a bullet go over his head.
Catalin hauled him back, further into the forest, and the branches whizzed by them, smacking Bruno’s face. She threw him to the ground once more, and knelt down over him to whisper in his ear.
"Stay down," she hissed, her voice almost drowned out by the ringing of bullets. It seemed that they -whoever they were- had been given the command to shoot at will.
Bruno felt Catalina began to stand, and heard her say, "I'm going to murder El Je-"
"Wait!" Bruno grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. "Give me the arepa."
Cataline faltered. "How did you know I ate an are-?"
"My sister made it!" Bruno patted his hand down her arm until he reached her wrist, and he felt the bread in her hand. It was old and stale, but it still smelled like Julietta, smelled like home, and it would do.
Bruno tore off a small corner and stuffed it in his mouth.
He blinked. Shook his head, then knocked on it three times.
And he could see.
The first thing he processed was Catalina, giving him a rather incredulous look. Next he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the blur of a bullet whizzing past. And then he saw the rest of their hiding spot, which was a little nook in the forest. There was a rusty metal bucket on the ground, half-buried in the dirt. It reminded Bruno of Jorge's bucket.
"Hernando?" Catalina asked cautiously. "You can see?"
The first thing that came out of Bruno's mouth was, stupidly, "I thought you'd look more like Luisa."
“What?”
Bruno almost didn’t catch that, because, you know, he was processing a lot of things at once, and the noise of gunshots and yells dimmed beneath the roaring in his ears. Bruno reached out for the metal bucket and tapped it five times, muttering knock on wood knock on wood to himself, then tapped his own head. Much better.
“That’s not wood,” Catalina said, nodding her head to the bucket.
Bruno tensed, then looked around for a table or something, anything-
“You know that we are in a forest,” Catalina said amusedly, evidently guessing what he was looking for. “We are literally surrounded by wood.”
Bruno brightened. “Oh, you’re right!”
He knocked on the nearest tree, then his head, and he felt better than he had in months. The roaring in his ears dimmed.
And the gunshots came back.
Nothing, be it guns or people, had come near them yet -Catalina had found a good hiding place, a kind-of-ditch in the ground that looked like it had always been there- but Bruno couldn’t relax, because it had just occurred to him, stupidly, that they were being targeted by someone, and there was only one person who would do it.
“Is that- is- is that El Jefe?” he whispered, already knowing the answer.
“No, it’s El Renacuajo Paseador, the walking tadpole,” Catalina said, peering out into the open. “Of course it’s El Jefe!”
Bruno tapped on the tree again. He hated this, hated how powerless he felt, even at just the mention of El Jefe’s name. "We- we need to go."
"No!" Catalina's voice was sharp and commanding. "You go. I'm going to kill El Jefe."
"I'm not leaving you!" Bruno hissed.
"Then stay out of my way."
Catalina rose out of the kind-of-ditch, sword in one hand and arepa in the other, and started forward.
Catalina was many things, but she was not a quitter. She ignored the bullets, took small, steady bites of the arepa, and continued forward.
El Jefe was there in all his glory, gun in hand and leveled on her. She didn’t care. She would be fine, as long as he didn’t blow her brains out. The bullets bit at her like nasty, pesky bugs, but she had miracles on her side, and she didn’t need to worry about them. Bullets were too small for her, they were beneath her. Everything was beneath her except El Jefe, the gun in his hand, and the arepa in hers.
Catalina felt his bullet graze her heart, and she was almost out of arepa, but she wasn’t close enough to him yet, and she wasn’t ready to die yet, she still wanted to hear Bruno’s answer-
Catalina heard a sharp clang.
El Jefe fell to the ground, his head dented in by a metal bucket. I was going to do that, she thought dazedly.
And in his place stood Bruno, bucket held tight in his trembling hands.
The bullets of El Jefe's people stopped, out of shock or just because they didn’t know what to do, and it was suddenly, blissfully quiet.
"You just-" Catalina swallowed blood. "You just smashed El Jefe's head in- with a- with a bu-"
"What?" Bruno said. "Oh, no no no, that was all Jorge's doing-"
Catalina swayed, and collapsed, and Bruno darted forward to just barely catch her before she hit the ground.
“We need to stop doing this,” he told her unconscious form. It was easier, this way, to stay calm. Easier when he had someone else to worry about, something besides himself.
Bruno opened her clenched fist. The last of the arepa was in bits and pieces, crumpled into crumbs in Catalina's fury.
Crumbs will work, Bruno decided, titling Catalina's head up and carefully pouring a morsel into her mouth.
Catalina jerked and shuddered, involuntarily.
"Swallow," Bruno commanded.
Catalina swallowed, and Bruno waited. Oddly enough, he didn't feel worried. He trusted Julietta's cooking, and Catalin would be fine.
Catalina sat up with a strangled gasp.
“Hello,” Bruno said.
“Did you just kill El Jefe!?” Catalina demanded. “I was going to do that!”
“You’re welcome,” Bruno said. He glanced at El Jefe’s groaning form. “And, it seems like he’s still alive.”
“Excellent,” Catalina grunted, standing up with a shudder.
“You’re still in pain,” Bruno observed.
“Wowww, what an astute observation,” Catalina muttered sarcastically, hand pressed to her side. “They don’t call you a seer for nothing, do they?”
“Oh, shut up,” Bruno told her.
Catalina just smirked and picked up her sword, plunging it into El Jefe’s heart without mercy or ceremony.
El Jefe shuddered, then died. Just to be safe, Catalina took his gun and shot him in the head.
“That felt,” she said, “so good.”
“I think you need professional help,” Bruno told her, picking up his bucket and standing as well.
“Not as much as you do,” Catalina muttered, sheathing her bloody sword.
“It’s not a competition,” Bruno bickered idly. “Oh, and I’ve been thinking about your question.”
“Oh?” Catalina said. There was no need to clarify what the question was.
“Yes,” Bruno said, absently cleaning off his new bucket. “And honestly? I don’t think you would be happy there.”
“Oh…”
“But!” Bruno cried. “Butbutbutbut. That doesn’t mean you won’t be happy at all.”
Catalina tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if El Padre- if Pedro- if my father- wait, what do I even call him now? Oh, never mind. If my papa goes back to Encanto, somebody would need to lead his troops, you know?” Bruno twiddled his thumbs. “And I have a feeling that you would be perfect for the job.”
When Catalina said nothing, Bruno continued. “And- and you could visit! Julietta -my sister- could help with any wounded soldiers you have, and you could say hi to Adelita and El Padre, and you could meet my family, like Pepa and Mirabel -oh, you’d like them, I think- and it would all work out!” Bruno faltered, suddenly realizing he was rambling. “But, but that’s just what I thought.”
Catalina studied him. “You talk a lot, you know that?”
Bruno sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Hmm.” Catalina didn’t say yes to his idea, but she didn’t say no, and Bruno counted that as a success.
She looked up from the ground, suddenly remembering something rather important. “Hey, what do we do about El Jefe’s troops?”