11. Antonio and Julieta

Alma knew her son made dumb decisions. But kidnapping and brainwashing Julieta's daughter!? That was a new low.

Had she wanted him to settle down and have kids? Admittedly, yes. Did she want him to have kids like this? Goodness no! What on earth had possessed him to do such a thing! She had been shocked when he had stolen Mirabel right after her failed gift ceremony. But now...

She never expected he'd do something like this. It was against everything the Madrigals stood for. Bruno should have known that. He should have known he had stolen something precious. Instead, he had tainted it beyond repair.

After her family left to find her missing granddaughter Alma stayed in the dining room, staring at the family mural behind her chair. Staring at the terrible, awful yellow line that connected Mirabel directly to Bruno.

It made her feel sick.

If she stared at it, she could see that the surviving branches that connected Mirabel to her parents (her real parents) were thinning. Like they were about to break off.

She stared at the new representation of her youngest granddaughter. Mirabel wore the same awkward smile she was used to seeing on her son. The green on her embroidered skirt matched that of Bruno's ruana. Looking at her standing underneath him made Alma see all the similarities between the two of them.

She really looked like she was his daughter.

Alma took a deep breath in. There had to be a reason Bruno left. There had to be something wrong with Mirabel for him to have taken her with him. There had to be something more that she didn't understand. Why would Bruno take her away, but not return when she did?

She had many questions, but so few answers. She longed for Pedro to be there. Like she did every time a gift was given or she remembered Mirabel's lack of one.

Why was she here? Why had she chosen now to come back?

This would complicate things. Not that it was necessarily a bad complication, it just was unexpected. Alma had expected to never see her son or granddaughter again, yet there was Mirabel. She would have to find out why Mirabel had chosen to come back now, and then do what it took to fix everything. Get them all back in a rhythm.

Her eyes rested on the portrayal of her son, and she felt a bitterness rise up in her. She loved him... yes... but... She felt righteous indignation at him.

She longed to see him again. If only he'd dare to show himself.

She turned from the mural and back to the rest of the dining table. Casita had taken care of the rest of dinner, so the table was clear. The room was empty of people, other than herself. And she felt...

Empty. So incredibly empty. She hadn't felt like this in fifty years. The way she felt when Pedro died.

She left shortly after. She would join her family in the search.

Instead she ran into her eldest. Julieta looked tired, and sad. She had tears streaming down her face. Tears that she instantly started wiping away as soon as she saw Alma. She smiled in her soft way, and said, in a thick voice, “Mamá! I... I...”

Julieta squeezed her eyes shut, and Alma did something that she hadn't done in a long time. She hugged her daughter. Julieta melted in her mother's embrace, and the sobs came.

“She's back... She came back...” Julieta said, in between sniffs. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Alma's waist, and Alma nodded. “She's here,” Alma whispered into her daughter's hair.

Julieta let go of her a moment later, and chuckled a bit. She smiled sadly as she wiped the tears out of her eyes. “I... I can't believe she's so big.” She looked down at the ground and stared at the tiles. “Mamá... I don't know what I'm going to do...”

Alma reached out and placed a hand on Julieta's shoulder. “You're going to do what you always do. Love her.” Julieta nodded, and met her mother's eyes.

They stared at each other for a minute, before they were interrupted by Dolores. Alma's second grandchild stepped into their conversation.

“Abuela, Tia Julieta... Antonio found her. She's at... Bruno's tower.”

Antonio had no idea who the person he was looking for was. All he knew was that his family knew her, and she was here. And she was important enough to stop Isabela's engagement.

She was pretty. He liked her skirt. She seemed nice. She talked a little fast, but that was okay.

She was fascinating. Her picture had changed on the painting behind Abuela's seat. She had moved. Why had her picture moved? He knew that Dolores' and Camilo's pictures had moved when he was born, but they had stayed with their parents... Why had this 'Mirabel's' picture moved to show her as his other tio's daughter?

He got his new animal friends to look for her. They were happy to help.

It didn't take long. His coati friends found her quickly. He followed them to his new cousin, who was sitting in front of a door he had never seen before.

Mirabel was sitting against a wall, her knees pulled up in front of her face, and... she had a small animal Antonio had never seen before in her hands.

He stared past his cousin and at the door behind her. It looked like all the other magical doors in the house, but instead of glowing orange, like it was supposed to, it looked... dead. The wood looked slightly rotten, and the image depicted on it made Antonio's blood run cold like a snake's.

Under the name 'Bruno' was a tall, terrifying man, floating above an hourglass. Antonio had grown up hearing stories from Camilo about his uncle. The terrifying, seven-foot giant who could see your dreams and eat your screams.

He heard a sniffling, and realized slowly that his new cousin was crying. Her glasses were pushed up on top of her head, and she was rubbing under her nose with her free hand.

“Hi...” Antonio said, moving close to Mirabel and offering her a small smile. “I'm Antonio. Nice to meet you!”

Mirabel pushed her glasses down onto her nose again and blinked at Antonio. “Hi,” she said, sounding incredibly sad. “I'm Mirabel. Nice to... nice to meet you too...” She glanced at the coatis and asked quietly, “Are those yours?”

Antonio nodded, sitting down next to Mirabel. “Yeah! They're my friends. We met yesterday. At my new room.”

“Room?” Mirabel asked, looking over at him in confusion. Antonio nodded, smiling and reaching out to pet the strange brown thing nestled in her right hand. “Yeah. Oh... I'm your cousin. I just got my gift yesterday... It's talking to animals!”

Mirabel's eyes widened at him. “You...'re my cousin?!” She asked, sounding really happy. Antonio nodded, and Mirabel shook her head. “Wow. A new cousin. That's so cool.”

“I know!” Antonio exclaimed, scratching 'Jeff' (as the brown thing told him it was called) behind the ears. “I knew I had another cousin, but I've never met you before!” Mirabel laughed, and joined her cousin in petting Jeff.

“So... you're five, right?” Mirabel asked, and Antonio nodded. Mirabel's smiled grew, and she whispered, “I can't wait to tell Papá...”

She suddenly stilled, Antonio looked up into her face, which looked like she'd just been slapped. She squeezed her legs closer to her chest and sighed.

“I didn't know tio Bruno had a kid... I thought you were...” Antonio started, but stopped mid-sentence. “Hey... Mirabel? Are you okay?”

Mirabel had new tears building up in her eyes. She was staring at tio Bruno's door, and she sniffed deeply. “I'm fine.. Just fine... I just... I need to talk to my Papá.” She looked back at Antonio and smiled softly. “I'll be okay.”

Antonio nodded, cuddling closer to Mirabel and holding his hand out for Jeff to climb onto. Mirabel laughed a bit as Jeff left her for her cousin. “He likes you.” She said, smiling as Antonio pet behind Jeff's ears.

“I've never seen one of these before.” Antonio said, matching Mirabel's smile. Mirabel's expression changed to shock. “You've never seen a rat before?” She asked, her surprise clearly evident in her voice.

“Never,” Antonio answered. The 'rat' understood him and gave him it's own confused look. Mirabel shook her head, and said, “Isn't your gift talking to animals?” Antonio nodded, and Mirabel continued, “So... why don't you know what a rat is?”

Antonio shrugged. “All of the animals that were in the house came to live in my room when I got it...” he said, and Mirabel nodded. “There was not a single 'rat' among them.”

Mirabel whistled softly. “Wow. Never heard of a rat...” she shook her head, and said, “I grew up in a house full of rats. Papá calls them his 'other children'. We'd watch them in game shows... sports... telenovelas...”

Her eyes filled with sadness, and Antonio placed a hand on her arm. “Don't worry.” he said, smiling at her. “You'll be able to do those again soon.”

Mirabel nodded, glancing at Bruno's door again. “Yeah... soon...”

Bruno was bored.

It was physically taxing to cross the mountains, but after a while your brain started to look for things to distract yourself. At least it did if you were Bruno Madrigal. 

The easiest thing for him to think about was his daughter.

Bruno had always thought he'd have kids. Ever since he was sixteen, and had ventured to look into his own future.

That had been when he'd started getting villainized by the town. When he'd felt like an outsider. When he just wanted to see if he'd be happy one day. If there would be someone other than his sisters and mother who loved him.

All he had seen was a little girl running across his vision to throw her arms around him and mouth the word “Papá!”. He hoped that that was the true future. He hoped that he knew what he had seen. That he hadn't misinterpreted it. That maybe one day he'd find someone who would love him enough to give him a child.

Little did he know that that little girl would actually be his niece. Little did he know that her 'Papá' would be the biggest lie he'd ever tell.

Little did he know how much he'd actually love her. Mirabel was his world now. His bright spot that had saved him from the darkness he had been building up inside.

He was crossing mountains right now so he could save his family. He was going to save his Mariposa, the idiot, from whatever future he'd been saving her from.

Just as long as the house wasn't in shambles when he got there. Just please let the house not be in shambles.

She was his light. The only person he'd seen in ten years. Did he enjoy that little fact about them? Not really. He wished that they could have had friends... He wished that they could have had a different life... but now? Now he wouldn't trade their relationship for the world.

She'd grown so much. And he'd grown right along with her.

He remembered her at ten years old. Obsessed with his gift. That was when he'd first felt comfortable letting her see it. She didn't see it much, mainly because he could only really felt comfortable focusing on what he was trying to see every now and then.

He'd walked in on her, in her room, surrounded by a large circle of sand, with five smoldering piles of sand sitting in front of her. Crying softly to herself as she sat crosslegged on the floor.

He had recognized his ritual circle instantly. And knew why she was so sad.

Bruno came to check in on his daughter. It had been hours since he had last seen her, and had been growing nervous. He wasn't worried for her safety, but she typically told him when she was going out for any extended amount of time.

He found her in her room, sobbing in front of what was quite obviously a replica of his future-seeing circle.

Had she been... No... She knew that she couldn't... but... she was ten... She might have...

“Mirabel?” he asked, coming to stand next to her before kneeling down in the circle, taking extra care to not disturb any of the sand. “Are you okay?”

“I did it all right Papá!” she said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I tried so hard! But it didn't work! Why didn't it work?” She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and Bruno felt his heart break like a shattered vision.

He sat down next to her and slung an arm around her. “Mirabel... it didn't work because... well... because it's not the ritual that lets me see the future... it's my gift.”

Mirabel hadn't cried about her lack of a gift since she was five. Back when Bruno didn't have a clue how to raise a child. Now he was slightly more prepared, but he still didn't really know how to handle crying. He was reminded strongly of when they first started living in Casa, and felt his broken heart seize up.

“I wish I had a gift...” Mirabel said quietly, and Bruno felt his blood run cold. Memories of being slightly older than her and wishing that he didn't have a gift came back to him. No child should wish they were different. It wasn't his fault that he got his gift. It wasn't Mirabel's fault that she didn't get one at all.

“Mirabel,” he said, pulling her into his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut and just held her. Her hands gripped the back of his ruana, and he said just loud enough for her to hear. “You don't need a gift. You're the real gift kid. And I wouldn't trade you for anything.”

Mirabel let go of him, and he released her to stare at her tear-covered face. He smiled softly at her then reached out to wipe a tear away with his thumb.

“Papá...” Mirabel said, then grabbed his hands. “Do you ever wish I had a gift?” Bruno froze.

Of course he wished she had a gift! If she did she would be home, where she belonged, with her parents...

Dios Mio, he hadn't thought of Agustin and Julieta as her parents for so long.

“Yes of course...” Bruno said, a little too fast. But he didn't care. Mirabel started growing new tears in her eyes, and Bruno added, again a little too quickly, “But you don't need a gift to be special Mija.” Mirabel nodded, and Bruno grabbed her hands in his.

“Do you want to do a vision with me?” he asked without really thinking. Mirabel's eyes lit up. She liked seeing his visions. She was the reason he could stand living with his gift.

She nodded vigorously, and Bruno moved around the little piles of sand on the floor. He reached in his ruana and pulled out a handful of salt, which he threw over his shoulder.

He shared a vision with her that day. A vision that saw an older Mirabel throwing her arms around him and being happy.

Julieta was the first to reach the staircase leading to her brother's room. She saw her youngest daughter sitting against the wall, right next to her youngest nephew. The two of them were petting a brown rat resting on Antonio's hand.

Julieta shouldn't have been surprised that the girl who was Bruno's... 'daughter'... had a rat. But it had been so long since she'd seen one that she was shocked to see a it.

The two cousin's looked up at her as she reached the top of the stairs, and she saw two looks come on their faces.

Antonio's filled with joy, and he smiled up at her. Mirabel's filled with intense guilt.

“Antonio... do you mind... if I talk to Mirabel for a minute?” Julieta asked, and nearly sighed with relief when the young boy nodded, a serious look crossing his face. He stood up, and Julieta mouthed a 'gracias' to him as he left, leaving the brown rat with Mirabel.

Julieta slid down the wall to sit next to her daughter, a comfortable distance away. Mirabel kept her eyes glued to the rat, and her legs close to her chest.

“Your... Agustin didn't mean to yell at you...” Julieta said, looking at the pale patches on the wall in front of her, where Bruno's paintings at once hung. “He's really sweet... he's just... upset.”

She saw Mirabel nod out of the corner of her eye, and Julieta let her mind cling to what her mother had said. All she could do was love her daughter. The girl that she had let go of all those years ago.

She just hadn't realized how much she'd have to let Mirabel go.

“He's my Papá... I know that...” Mirabel said, and Julieta felt like she was being stabbed in the heart. She looked at her... at Mirabel.

Bruno was her Papá now. She'd been Mamá for five years. She'd had her precious little girl for five years. And Bruno had had her for ten... He was the one who raised her. He was the one who had been there for her when she was so small, when she was still dealing with not getting a gift. He was the one who had been her rock throughout her life. He was the one who had protected her from nightmares, from the dangers of the outside world.

And Julieta had let that happen. In keeping her daughter safe... she had lost her daughter. And now... that change would be permanent. She couldn't take Mirabel away from the man who had raised her. Who Mirabel obviously loved deeply.

“I may be your mother... but he's your Papá...” Julieta said quietly. Mirabel looked up at her in confusion, and Julieta heard what she had said and blushed profusely. “Oh! No! Not in that way!”

“Not in what way?” Mirabel asked innocently, and Julieta had the hopeful? terrible? realization that Mirabel didn't know.. a key part of human reproduction.

“Nothing. Nothing...” she laughed a bit. The laugh that typically was reserved for her brother. “What I meant to say was, Agustin and I might have brought you into this world, but Bruno is the one who brought you the world.”

She smiled at her daughter, whose eyes widened. “It's... true?” she asked quietly, and Julieta felt the same way she had when her mother had told them the story of her own Papá. She nodded sadly, and held a hand out for Mirabel to take.

“Then why the heck did we leave the Encanto?!"