#camilo reader insert

at first, you tried to wait it out until camilo got back, and then you heard the yelling. you could tell it was his abuela. you didnt want to intrude, as it wasnt your place to snoop or stop conflict in a family you werent exactly apart of, but then you heard the cracks. something was very wrong. the yelling stopped, but soon turned into panicked yells.

you lifted yourself off of camilos bed, where you had been sitting, to investigate, and a sort of panic beginning to fill you. when you got to the door and opened it, even just the inch you had gotten it open, you could see it was chaos. pieces of the house were falling, camilos family was being rushed out the door..

oh god, you had to get out, didnt you?

camilo saw his door was being slowly opened as he was running to get to the candle. "y/n! you need to get out!" he was out of breath, his voice panicky. you tried to push the door open more, but a piece of the houses roof fell, pushing the door back, leaving only a couple inches of space.

you jumped back from the sudden pressure against the door and sheilded your head after a second, you deemed it safe, and tried to squeeze through with no luck. you turned around, and camilos room was falling behind you. you shoved the door with your arm as hard as you could, moving it barely a quarter of an inch each time.

"i cant— i cant—!" you yelled out, trying to get anyones attention.

"casita! go help—w-ah–!" camilo tried to send casita your way, but was cut off. you couldnt see by what, but you heard him let out a shout that travelled down, he'd fallen.

"camilo‽" you nearly screamed in panic.

"casita, y/n! help them." you heard his voice faintly. then, you heard tiles clicking downstairs. "no! not me! not— help y/n! y/n!" his previously quiet voice turned into a shout, which was carried away from you as the tiles moved him out of the house.

you tried bodyslamming the door again to no avail.

as the dust began to settle, the first thing camilo did was look around. he needed to see if you were there.

you werent.

his heart picking up speed again, he ran into the barely calmed house to find you. he was back within the broken walls before anyone could even see that he was safe.

"y/n!" he screamed amongst the dusty air. he'd barely looked twice at mirabel, but from what he saw, she was safe, so he kept looking. "y/n!"

he ran.

he was running, checking under everything in his sight, between anything, around everything. nothing. and, oh god, he couldnt let his panic take over now. not when he couldnt find you. he couldnt lose hope. he had to keep looking.

he ignored the calls of his name, everyone telling him to step back out and that it was still dangerous. he couldnt even comprehend the number of fucks he didnt give, because he needed to find you.

he found evidence of you. something he'd been dreading. the fabric of the clothes you'd been wearing was sticking out from a rock just under where camilos door had been.

no.

no, this isnt real.

that blood isnt theirs.

he looked around the other side of the rock, and.. he nearly passed out. he had to hold onto the concrete rock to stop himself.

no..

it was you. you in all your glory. your red, half-under-a-giant-rock glory.

he tried to lift the fallen piece of casita. he wasnt strong enough, but he couldnt just... give up. he was straining himself, trying to stop the inevitable flow of tears while pushing the rock that hadnt even moved even a little bit yet.

he couldnt look at you again. "you're gonna be okay, y/n." he said quietly, trying to convince himself of just that. "l– luisa! someone– someone help!" he pushed once more as hard as he could before resting weakly against the big rock. he was out of breath.

luisa. yes, he could become luisa.

...

why.. why wasnt he becoming luisa?..

he needed to be someone else, someone stronger. he was useless as himself. why was he shifting‽ he felt the tears begin to fall past the dam he'd built.

useless. he pushed the rock. nothing.

useless.. he pushed the rock harder. nothing.

useless! he punched the rock and collapsed to his knees in pain, clutching his fist in his other hand.

y/n needed help. he needed to help them. what was wrong with him‽ he couldnt shift into anyone useful, he couldnt even get himself to calm down enough to see through the blur that was his tears.. he blinked once, looked over to where you lay half beneath the rock. he barely felt the dehabilitating pain of his fist anymore. he blinked again as tears filled his eyes and reached forward to grab your hand.

it was cold, but he didnt want to admit that.

"camilo!" the call of his name from somewhere behind him was enough to send him out of the dazed state he found himself in. it was enough to remind him how he, the camilo in question, had completely failed to protect you, or even just help you. he weakly crawled next to you and leaned into your body, flat on the ground beside him.

he began to cry. it was strained, still trying to compose himself and feed into the lies of 'they're still alive, they're okay', but it just wasnt working. he could feel how cold your hand had gone. your hand never even reach this temperature during the colder seasons of encanto.

his mothers arms around him went unnoticed by the steadily increasingly numb boy. he held tightly onto you, afraid to let go. he didnt care if he got blood on him, he didnt care if it stained. he just wanted you. he wanted to hear you tell him you were okay, he wanted you to hold him back. he needed you. he would give anything even just feel your hand move against his own once more.

"i'm so sorry.. i'm so sorry, mi amor.." he sobbed, choking on his words. he was whispering, and he barely noticed he was even speaking. "lo siento, y/n. despertarse.. por favor, wake up– te amo.." he spoke through tears and clenched teeth. pepas loving touch couldnt comfort him right now.