The Heart of Camilo (A Camilo Madrigal x Reader Fem Y/N Story)

Trapped

*Y/N*

After Ramirez had locked us back in the room after healing my hand, Diego and I had not spoken much, too terrified and exhausted, just lying together on the mattress, shocked into silence. He held tight to the hand that had been injured. We eventually fell asleep despite it being still early in the day. When I woke up again, it was brighter in the room, probably mid-day or early afternoon. I didn't sit up, just rolled over and saw Diego was still asleep. I didn't want to wake him. Ramirez had not given him any of Julieta's food and his face still looked awful. I wanted to cry. As I lay there, wondering where Camilo was now, I suddenly realized it was his birthday today. The thought made me miserable - what we could have been doing right now if we weren't pulled into all this, if all of this was just a bad dream, and I would wake up beside him any moment, go and celebrate with his family. I put my hand over my face, wanting to be quiet if I started crying to not wake Diego. I just wanted to go home, wanted this to be over.

Suddenly, I heard the lock at the door. Panicking, I shook Diego awake. He groaned, wincing in pain, sitting up once he realized what was going on. Ramirez opened the door, holding some rags in his hands and rope, closing the door behind him, crossing the room towards us. Diego and I both moved back as far away from him as we could against the far wall, but he kneeled down next to us, grabbing Diego roughly and stuffing one of the rags into his mouth when he opened his mouth to protest.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, panicked.

Quick as a flash, Ramirez had his knife at Diego's throat, with his other hand over his lips to indicate I needed to be quiet. I shut up, watching helplessly as he gagged Diego, filling his mouth with a rag and then tying a rope across his mouth and behind his head so that he couldn't spit it out, then moving onto tying his hands. He then grabbed my arm, pulling me to him, and did the same to me. The rag tasted horrible and I gagged, trying to cough, trying hard to not panic and to breathe through my nose as he tied my hands behind my back like he had Diego. Just then, a woman came into the room and Ramirez turned to her, roughly discarding me back down on the mattress. I could see they were writing things back and forth to each other on a piece of paper. I looked at Diego, confused. Why weren't they speaking? Why were they gagging us so we couldn't, either?

Suddenly, I realized. Dolores must be here, which meant Camilo must be here. I whimpered, struggling against the gag, starting to cry. He was here, he could be right outside, and I couldn't call to him. Ramirez finished writing back and forth with the woman before coming back to the mattress and roughly pulling us up to our feet, beginning to walk us out of the room. He pulled us into what would have been a living room if someone lived here, and lifted up a board on the floor to reveal a handle that he lifted up - a hidden door. I began shaking my head, crying more, knowing what was happening. They were here, Camilo, Dolores, and probably the rest of the family, searching the houses and Ramirez was letting them exhaust themselves. This woman would let them in, they would check all the rooms, and we would be under the floor, hidden, unable to make a sound. It was too much to bear. As I cried, it became almost impossible to breathe through my nose and I started choking. Ramirez pulled me to face him, telling me with his eyes to get myself together.

He pushed us to get us to start walking down the stairs, and once we were downstairs, he forced us to sit and tied our hands to one of the small pillars supporting the ceiling, making sure we couldn't move. He surveyed us and then went back up the stairs, closing the door, locking it, replacing the board. The room was bare, dusty and still had dirt for walls, despite stone being laid along the floor. It was recently made. Diego and I looked at each other desperately, wanting to speak but needing to focus on breathing. I wondered if he had put it together. I put my head on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him and he leaned his head back onto mine.