34. The triplets all reunite (the trip was only a n...

Pepa had watched her family fall apart once before. Ten years before, when her brother had stolen her niece in the middle of the night.

She had watched her mother face the townsfolk. It seemed that all the town was worrying about was whether the magic was okay. They had been there the night before the worst day in the family's lives (besides the day that Pepa's father died). They had been there to see little Mirabel's door crumble away.

But none of them had been there for the cacophony that was the next morning.

Julieta cried, Agustin swore that from that if Bruno showed his face in the Encanto again he'd be a dead man, Isabela and Luisa were inconsolable, Camilo kept accidentally shifting into a half-Camilo half-Mirabel monster which freaked him out, and Dolores...

Dolores, Pepa's precious hija who always knew more than anyone truly wanted her to know... She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She blamed herself for not hearing them. Blamed herself for not knowing, not being able to tell... It tore Pepa's heart in two to hear her daughter express her feelings.

And of course, whenever Pepa expressed her feelings, the weather expressed them as well. And that only added to the village's growing list of complaints and demands thrust on Pepa's mother. Why didn't Mirabel get a gift? Why did Bruno leave? and Why can't you get Pepa to stop raining on all of us?

For ten years the family had done their best to move on. Every passing day made it easier for Pepa to thrust her brother and niece out of her mind. Julieta didn't cry anymore, she never cried. She was the one that their family went to when they cried. But Pepa's sister had cried once more, when Pepa announced that she was pregnant with Antonio.

Now Mirabel had returned, free of Bruno. And now... now... The miracle was gone. The candle had gone out, Casita had fell, Mirabel had gone missing, and Pepa...

Pepa didn't have a cloud anymore. She would never have a cloud hanging above her head again. She was free. Free to not worry about feeling her emotions. She could feel terrible without making people upset... And if there was ever a time to feel better it would be now.

Yet Pepa felt nothing as she was led to the Guzman's house, and settled on one of the spare beds in the house, tucked in her husband's arms. She couldn't find any emotions inside of her for the first time in forever. She was too exhausted.

She had spent all day searching for her niece, and had come up empty-handed. No one knew where Mirabel was. Half of the village didn't even know that Mirabel existed, much less where she could have gone. She had been worried for so long over Mirabel's safety that she had completely drained herself of all feeling.

Felix snoring was one of the few things that made Pepa feel like some things were still normal. If it weren't for the weight of his arms wrapped around her Pepa was sure that her spirit would drift out of her body. Resting in his arms made her feel a little bit better. No matter how many years passed she was always his young bride, at home and safe in his hold.

She forced her eyes to stay closed. Forced her tired and sore eyes to close. She needed to sleep. The next day they would keep on their search, so she needed all of the rest she could get.

Yet she found that she just... couldn't. There was no anxiety in her mind keeping her up. There was no thoughts filling her mind. Just a persistent wakefulness in her bones that kept her body up.

Was this how Bruno often felt at night? Pepa was sure that the man had never had a good night's sleep in years. Was this how he felt-

No. She couldn't think of Bruno. Even though she couldn't accidentally conjure up a cloud and drench herself and her husband she still couldn't let herself slip into that old bitterness.

Yet Bruno was all that her mind wanted to focus on. Her no-good brother who had stolen Mirabel all those years ago. But if her mother had been right about him having her vision... Had he had a vision? Had it been about Mirabel?

What kind of a person was he now? How much had he changed in ten years? Who was he? Did he still love Arepa con queso? Did he still talk to his rats like they were real people? Did he still hide his face under his ruana whenever he wanted to stop talking to a person?

Was he really a big jerk like she always thought? Mirabel spoke about him like he had hung the stars in the sky. What would he say if he saw the state of the family right then? What would he say if he found out that Mirabel was missing?

Why was Pepa thinking about this? Why was she drudging up old wounds? All thinking about Bruno did was make her feel bad. She should have known better. She did know better. So that is why she would stop.

Felix snored loudly next to her, and she nestled herself deeper into his arms, finally starting to feel the call of sleep in her mind. She fell asleep with thoughts of her brother running through her mind and reminding her of past storms that could never sweep away the sadness his leaving had forced her to feel.

The morning shone bright on the Encanto. The sun smiled down on the town, illuminating windows, and streaming to shine in the eyes of those too tired to wake up before its rise.

And for the first time in a long while the family Madrigal were some of those tired people. Having a million places to go and jobs to do always forced the family to wake up before most of the townsfolk. Especially when they lost...

Dolores woke up in a bed she didn't recognize, in a house she'd never been in, with a muffled feeling in her ears. It was like someone had shoved cotton in her ears. She strained her face, trying to listen for her mother's heartbeat, something that always helped her calm down. But to her sleepy-shock she found that she couldn't hear it.

In fact, she couldn't hear breathing. Anyone's breathing. No matter what she did, no matter where she went, she could always hear people breathing. It was one of those sounds that drove her mad, but was simultaneously comforting.

She felt her own breathing start to get harder. Why couldn't she hear breathing? Why couldn't she hear her mother's heartbeat? Why was her gift not working? Where was she? Had she been kidnapped? What was going-

The candle bounced in the window once before falling onto its side and rolling out of sight. The house crumbled around it, nearly crushing Antonio-

With that she remembered what had happened, and her terror was replaced by deep worry. Her cousin was missing. And she had no way of locating her easily. If she had her gift she would have found her instantly. Instead she had... had...

She had lost her again. She had lost her ten years ago, the night that Mirabel had been stolen by their uncle. The man who Mirabel now called 'Papá'. The man who had had a vision of the house breaking.

Had Bruno always known that this would happen? Had Mirabel actually hurt the magic? She wouldn't do that on purpose, Dolores was sure of it. Mirabel was kind, a little on the nose when it came to sensitive issues, but sweet. She latched on to Dolores, listened to her, spoke to her, trusted her. And now... Dolores hadn't defended her. Dolores had stood aside and let Abuela tell Mirabel terrible things. Did Mirabel believe that Dolores wasn't on her side anymore? Did Mirabel feel alone in this world now? Would Dolores ever be able to make it up to her?

She dragged herself out of bed and made her way towards where she knew the Guzman's kitchen was, smoothing her skirt out as best she could. She might be useless to help find Mirabel, but she could still help feed her family.

Reaching the kitchen she found herself staring right at Mariano Guzman, sitting on the kitchen chair and holding his face in his hands.

“Mariano!” she squeaked out, feeling a blush build up in her cheeks. She was suddenly aware of how messy her hair was, her curls all tangled together and out of their usual bun. She was sure she looked like a mess, unlike Isabela, Mariano's soon to be fiance...

Mariano lifted his head up, and Dolores saw tear tracks coming down his cheeks. He'd been... crying? Why was he crying? It should be her family crying! They were the ones who lost their gifts! Why was Mariano...

“Dolores?” he asked, wiping his face with his sleeve. He sat up straight and fidgeted around. Dolores stood there in complete silence, then she said quietly, “Uh... Buenos dias Mariano... Uh... are you okay? What happened?”

She watched quietly as Mariano sniffed once more, then listened closely as he said, “Well... uh... Isabela probably won't like me telling you this... but... uh... We... broke up.”

Dolores felt her heart do a somersault. Isabela and Mariano broke up? Why? Why was she so happy about this? Why was her cousin's pain something that made her happy? Did she break up with him or did he break up with her? Did that mean that Bruno's vision was wrong?

“Oh.” was all her mouth could say for a second, then the caring nature her mother and aunt had taught her took over. “I'm so sorry Mariano. Do you want me to make you a cup of-”

Mariano shook his head wildly, and Dolores felt her breath catch in her throat. “It's not bad I guess... Isabela... told me that she hadn't... hadn't... fallen in love with me.” He gave her a small sad smile, and she felt her heart give a grand flutter as he said, “So... we broke it off. We both agreed that we'd find people who actually love us. I'm just upset that I almost... almost... ruined her.”

Dolores suddenly wanted to shout, for the first time since she'd received her gift. She wanted to cry out “I'm someone who loves you!” but she found that her tongue was trapped to the roof of her mouth. She stared at Mariano, a man who cared so deeply about the people around him. Who was worrying about almost ruining her cousin...

“Hey, it's gonna be okay.” she said, saying words that she desperately wanted to believe. “It's gonna be okay.” Mariano smiled at her (smiled!) and said, “Yeah. It is.” Dolores longed to capture that moment for herself. Right then it was just the two of them, alone in a kitchen, smiling and reassuring each other.

“So...” Mariano said, standing up and making Dolores feel very small once more. “Are you hungry? I could cook something up for you?”

Dolores smiled at him, then answered, “I was actually coming in here to cook something for my family...” Mariano nodded, then said words that Dolores hadn't realized she was waiting for. “I'll help you. I'd love to make breakfast with you Dolores.”

All Dolores could think of was the fact that he... had just said her name, and the word 'love', in the same sentence. This morning was perfect.

All Pepa could think of that afternoon when they came back to Casita's remains was This is the exact opposite of perfect.

Everything that had been inside of their rooms was lost. It wasn't just smashed in the wreckage of the house, it had actually, physically stopped existing. Which Pepa supposed she should have figured out by now. The rooms were all magic, so they had stopped existing when the magic had stopped.

She wished she could have kept the photo though. It was a simple picture. One from just before Camilo's gift ceremony. The last picture any of them had with Bruno in it. It was the most whole her family had been for years. It was all she had (besides his faded door) that bore Bruno's image. She had often wanted to tear the paper up and pretend like her brother didn't exist, but Casita's weather-proofing of the image had made it nigh on indestructible.

But now it didn't exist anymore. It was gone. Just like their home, just like their gifts, just like Mirabel. But she only truly cared about getting one of them back. Mirabel was the only truly important thing they had lost. They could make a new home, it might not be magical, but they would make a place to live. But there was no replacing people.

Which was why her heart gave a great leap when she heard her youngest shout, “I see Mirabel! She's on a horse!”

The entire family (save the missing three) collected in the area that used to be the courtyard, all of them staring at the place Antonio was pointing at. Sure enough, several dozen yards away from them was a brown mare, with a certain Mirabel Madrigal sitting on top of it.

She had arms wrapped around her, hands on top of hers, guiding her towards the broken house. Pepa didn't care. She found herself staring at the niece she barely knew as her children and other nieces dashed towards the horse. She felt her husband take her hand, and looked over at Felix and her sister with her husband.

“Mirabel!” she heard Dolores shout, and it took Pepa back a little. It had been so long since Dolores had shouted, her eldest always was as quiet as a mouse. Mirabel climbed off of the horse and Pepa got a good look at the person who had been helping her ride the animal a moment before.

Instead of paying attention to the cousin's joyous reunification her eyes were glued to Bruno Madrigal, who swung himself off of the horse and then proceeded to help their mother onto the ground as well. He looked... almost exactly the same as he had ten years before, just with noticeable gray in his hair.

Pepa felt nothing as Mirabel broke out of the hug pile all of the grandchildren had started, and Pepa tuned out the world.

Her brother was back.

Bruno Madrigal was home.

Bruno had to admit, coming to the destroyed Casita with Mirabel was much easier than coming without her. He found himself not caring that every muscle in his body was longing for him to flop down on the ground and never move again, all he cared about was the fact that Mirabel was laughing.

His eyes flashed over the scene in front of him, and landed on his sisters standing near the center of the destruction, their husbands at their sides. It was always safer to focus on Julieta, so he followed his gut instincts and walked past Mirabel.

To his surprise, the moment he made it past the group of young people (which he didn't even notice, he was too caught up in his sisters' expressions of shock) Julieta flung herself towards him.

He barely had time to catch her before Julieta went completely limp in his arms. The tears he had noticed briefly in her eyes started to pour down her cheeks, and she started sobbing wildly. He found his mind unable to comprehend fully what was going on, so he politely just patted her back gently.

“Bruno...” his sister said, smushing her face against his (now clean) chest. “Oh Bruno... you.... you...”

Part of his mind decided to work. His fight or flight response. He was sure that the next words would be angry, and he knew that his sister had every reason to hate his guts. She might have stopped her husband from beating him up earlier, but there was no reason to do so now. Mirabel was safe, and Julieta had every right to make sure that he was not.

“You did such a good job!” Julieta cried out, pulling back a bit and shocking Bruno with how messy she looked when she cried. He found himself not processing her words for a second, then he let out a shocked, “What?”

Julieta sniffed and rubbed under her nose with the back of her hand. “You did a good job Bruno, with Mirabel. You did so much better than I did...”

Bruno gaped at his sister. La Señorita  perfecta Julieta... telling Bruno that he did a better job than her? What sort of alternate timeline had he just walked himself into? He blinked at Julieta before saying in his 'mature adult voice', “I... don't know what you're talking about... What are you talking about?”

Julieta chuckled sadly, and Bruno watched as Agustin took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What I'm talking about is... Mirabel is so amazing and mature... and Isabela and Luisa... I didn't see that they were in pain... and now... Now...” Her sentence was cut off by an ugly hiccup from her, and Bruno found his confusion growing. Julieta picked up where she had left off, and said, “I messed up the kids I raised... and you did such a wonderful... wonderful...”

With a strangled cry she threw herself back onto him, and Bruno barely kept himself standing up straight. He wrapped his arms around Julieta, and felt her hands grab onto his ruana and hold onto him like a lifeline.

He looked up at Agustin, and mouthed I'm sorry to him. Agustin just stared in utter shock at the scene in front of him.

Then Bruno glanced to the right, and saw Pepa staring at them just like Agustin was. Bruno smiled warmly at her, and held his arm out towards her. “What do you say... triplet hug?”

Pepa walked over to her sister and brother seemingly in a trance, then pulled the two of them in an even larger hug. Julieta and Bruno shifted their grip on each other to hold onto Pepa, and the three of them stayed in their hug for longer than Bruno was used to.

He smiled at his sisters as they let go of him, and watched as Julieta took a step back, her eyes soaking in as much of the two of them standing next to each other as she could. And Bruno didn't blame her. He found himself taking in as much of his sisters as he could in that sweet moment.

And then Pepa slapped him.

He reeled back, pain shooting all over his face. Normally Pepa's slaps are painful, but she happened to hit the exact same spot Agustin had punched him in the day before. Bruno let out a sharp cry of pain, and grabbed at his face with both hands.

“Gah! Pepa! What the heck was that for!?” Bruno cried out, bouncing a little away from her. Pepa glared at him, and said, “For kidnapping and brainwashing our niece! What else did you think it was for?”

Bruno froze, still holding the side of his face in his hand he looked over at Julieta and asked, “You didn't tell her?! Did you tell anyone?”

Julieta froze, her eyes flicking between both of her siblings. She shrank in on herself a bit and said, “I... mighta... not told anybody. No one knows that you... uh... got my permission...”

“You got her permission?!” Pepa yelled, and then, to Bruno's shock, she started giggling. Bruno scooted away from her, both in fear of her crazed laughter, and that she might slap him again. Julieta seemed to share at least a part of his fear, and the two of them came closer together.

“You know what! I don't freaking care right now!” Pepa said, her laughter ending in a crescendo. “I'm too tired for this.”

Bruno wanted to reply to his sister, but before he could he saw a small figure walk up directly in front of him, and he looked down to come face-to-nearly-face with a small boy with dark curly hair. He blinked at the kid before he heard the child say, “Hey! You're not seven feet tall!”

This day just couldn't get weirder, could it?