Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruno Madrigal was the youngest of Alma Madrigal’s triplets, gifted with the power of foresight since the age of five, which was more of an unfortunate burden that has brought him more harm than good over the following forty-five years of his life, rather than anything else.

And he was quite certain that he has never been happier. 

Ever since having been reunited with his family, two years ago, after the absolute whirlwind that had been his prophecy of Mirabel ruining-or-quite-possibly-saving Casita coming true, all of the family losing their gifts and an adjustment period of both rebuilding their home and their cracked relationship, Bruno has finally found the acceptance and piece he so desperately sought growing up. 

Of course, it hasn't all been rainbows and sunshine, their process of mending all that used to be broken about the Madrigals. And not just because of Pepa. In fact, some wounds had yet to heal and not all has been forgiven, even today, but the progress they all have made over the last two years was remarkable on its own and things have become so much better for all of them. 

It began during the rebuilding of Casita.

Without their gifts, the Madrigals have found themselves in quite an interesting predicament, which was a light way of putting it.

Truthfully, it might have been a blessing.

Julieta and Pepa, both terribly overworked and frequently taken advantage of throughout the years, have flourished! The former, prior to Casita’s destruction, used to be basically chained to the kitchen and forced to cook incredible amounts of food for all of the village, including the idiots with the most idiotic and least life-threatening injuries, and never really had time to find and explore her own interests and hobbies, or even spend time with her daughters; the latter had constantly her emotions toyed with, quite often in mind-bogglingly cruel ways, just so that the villagers could have their preferred weather, regardless of how it took a serious toll on her mental health. 

Giftless and completely ordinary, Julieta and Pepa have finally been left alone, free to do as they pleased in between helping to rebuild Casita and catching up with Bruno after a decade of separation. 

Julieta discovered she had a passion for knitting and painting, which in Bruno’s opinion was incredible. Over the months, she made dozens of paintings, each new better than the previous, and pretty much excelled at making ruanas. Combined with Mirablel’s proclivity for embroidery, they were never anything but incredible.

Bruno even had a variety of them stacked in his new room and was always happy to wear them, much to both Julieta’s and Mirabel’s joy. And bringing them joy, or anyone else in the family for that matter, brought Bruno joy.

Pepa, ever the hurricane, with or without her power, along with Felix the Corruptor (which was what Bruno and Camilo have both taken to calling the man), decided it was a high time they went on a second honey-moon, not that they ever went on the first one, and basically eloped into the jungle, only to return a month later with a new ‘brilliant’ idea to learn boxing. 

Ten villagers paid the price of getting a black eye, because of that whim.

Oh, well. As long as they were happy… 

… And not completely unreasonable… 

Bruno would support his sisters.

... His crazy brothers-in-law as well, even though one of them was by now infamous for making questionable choices and the other was a living bait for angry bees.

But Julieta and Pepa weren’t the only ones who flourished during that time. 

It seemed Isabela all but forsaken the facade of a perfect and flawless lady, and decided to go against everything she once used to be. Good for her. She let go of her emotions and freed herself from the unreachable values drilled into her since early childhood. She acted out. Became rebellious. But at the same time she started to open up and explore herself. Her personality and interests.

And after her power returned, Isabela went feral. 

Encanto would never forget the day all houses became covered in thousands of plants that were not flowers. 

Of course, she got reprimanded for it, but Isabela has never been happier after that incident. And the Madrigals were happy for her.

Luisa, who didn’t need to do so much and all at once anymore, finally freed from constant demands and abuse for her strength, has made an incredible progress on her path of healing and also started exploring her passions and interests, just like her mother and elder sister. It turned out, she was a genius pianist, much to Agustin’s joy, and she also took to long walks around the forest and writing stories. 

Bruno and Luisa were now partners in writing telenovelas. 

The new production was going to be a masterpiece.    

And then there was Mirabel. 

Brilliant, courageous, strong, kindhearted and so damn stubborn Mirabel.

Honestly, as much as Bruno hated having favourites, Mirabel just might have become his favourite niece.

The girl that used to be so incredibly insecure about her place in the family and feel worthless for the lack of a magical gift was now the fiercest and most confident person Bruno has ever had the pleasure of meeting. The easy way she adapted to hardships and helped all of the family cope with the lack of magic honestly was inspiring. Mirabel has made the Madrigals realise something very important that they all subconsciously failed to see all these years. 

She taught them that there was so much more to them than just their gifts. 

And, in the end, she was the one to bring the magic back.

Bruno couldn’t help but smile fondly every time he thought about how close all of his nieces have grown over the last two years. Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel were now basically each other’s best friends! It was not an easy route for them by any means. They had a lot to talk about and uncover about themselves and eachother, and there was so much to forgive. But after arguments and breakdowns and confessions and bonding, they have managed to overcome their differences and hurt, especially Mirabel and Isabela. Bruno felt so proud of the three of Julieta’s daughters for how far they have come.

And the same he could say about Pepa’s children as well.

Dolores, a sophisticated and graceful lady she’s always been, was now engaged with Mariano Guzman and radiating happiness. She all but stopped being the ‘gossip-girl’ the town once treated her like. Most of the time she now spent reading books, discovering she loved romance along the way, or with her fiance, whose poetry seemed to be her most beloved thing to hear.

And Bruno had to give the kid the credit. 

Mariano’s poetry was quite entertaining and obviously came from the depths of his heart.  

Camilo was, for the lack of better word, a little shit and the biggest meanance of the village. Giftless or not, the boy was a prankster through and through. And he was quite brilliant in that field, if Bruno were to judge. However, most importantly of all, the boy has learned to love himself for who he was.

In months following Casita’s destruction, Camilo had to come to terms with not being able to shapeshift and had to find other ways of expressing himself. It was tough at first. Time revealed that, after years upon years of literally becoming everybody else at their whim, living as a glorified babysitter and being forced daily to erase himself for the village’s gain, Camilo had little to no idea who the real Camilo actually was. He coped as best as he could and thankfully wasn’t alone on that journey of rediscovering himself. His parents and siblings, and the rest of the family, Bruno included, were there for him every step of the way. 

Eventually, Camilo learned that he was still a prankster and a joker, first and foremost, but he was also a boy with an incredibly keen eye, protective of his loved ones and liked to dance. He realised that he was not a replacement but his own original self and the family wouldn’t have him any other way.

Plus, after the initial awkwardness was gone, Camilo and Bruno had bonded and it turned out they actually had quite a few things in common. Proclivity for annoying Pepa with the blunt, straight-forward sense of dry humour was merely one of them.  

After the gifts returned, Camilo was back to terrorising everybody, but his sense of self-worth has never been higher. 

Antonio was ever the ball of sunshine and Bruno honestly found himself unable to say no to that cute face whenever the little boy would ask if he could play with his rats, even when he couldn’t understand them. Bruno for the life of him had trouble comprehending how such an adorable child could have come from Felix, really. 

Once he regained his power, Antonio became something of a translator for Bruno and his beloved rats, who had so much to tell, apparently. 

Bruno sighed, walking down now the notably shorter staircase - staircase, not an infinite pile of stones! - to join his family for breakfast.  

Two years was a long time.

So much has changed.  

The family has changed.

And the person who might just have changed the most of all of them was his mamá.

Alma Madrigal used to lead the Madrigals and the rest of the Encanto community with an iron fist and uncompromising vision. Her life has shaped her into who she used to be. Tough. Demanding. Stubborn. Blind. She lost the sight of whom their gifts have really been for and the Madrigals have paid the price. It wasn’t easy to forgive her for that. Some still haven’t, to an extent. Alma had to come to terms with her sins and evaluate her priorities and values. She had so much to make up for. 

Bruno wasn’t sure, at times, if she would even try to change.

But god did his mother shock the life out of everybody. 

Alma has changed.

Ever the stubborn and uncompromising woman she has always been, his mamá has clawed her way back into their hearts. She started to listen and watch. She made an effort, which must have been so hard on her, especially when some of them have responded with hostility, resentment and doubt. They had a hard time trusting her again. Yet, it hadn’t stopped Alma Madrigal. She embraced their anger, took the shouting and screaming and blaming, and accepted the cold shoulder. She allowed them to set boundaries and respected them to the letter. 

After their gifts have returned, that was a major turning point.

The villagers were very eager for things to get back to how they were prior to the destruction of Casita, almost immediately demanding the Madrigals start working how they used to before everything occurred, and Alma was the one to push back against it.  

Nobody had seen it coming.

Previously so in favour of ‘doing what’s best for the village’ the Madrigal matriarch was very clear on how things would never return to how they’ve been. Julieta would no longer spend her days locked in the kitchen to cook for dozens. Pepa would no longer hold back her emotions in order to make the life of the lazy farmers easier. Bruno, to his shock and gratitude, was to be off limits, which was fine by him. After decades of being ridiculed, ostracised and blamed for his visions, he was okay with never doing them again for the people of Encanto. More than okay. Ecstatic, even.

The children would also be off limits. Especially Camilo and Luisa. The former would never be forced to use his gift to become somebody’s replacement and the latter was pretty much to be left alone. 

At first nobody thought she was serious and there were those who tried enforcing their own will upon the Madrigals, younger generation in particular, anyway. 

But Alma stood her ground. 

She kept a watchful eye on the villagers and her own family.

She stayed true to her word.

And eventually, seeing the change in her, one by one the Madrigals started to come around. First, it was Mirabel, who claimed to have forgiven her abuela on the riverbank where Bruno reunited with them that morning after Casita’s destruction, then Luisa, and of course Antonio, who didn’t really get to know his abuela’s worst side like the rest of the family had. Dolores was next. 

Bruno himself had been the fifth to forgive his mamá. They had a long and painful conversation, about everything that had been unsaid for all these years, and it didn’t go without tears and anger, but Bruno was able to come to terms with who his mother once was and chose to give her a second chance.  

That’s when his sisters were ready to offer his mother their own forgiveness, Julieta quicker to do so than Pepa. Their husbands were reluctant to do so themselves, as they had been forced to watch their wives overwork and neglect themselves for decades, unable to put an end to it, and they couldn’t just forgive Alma for hurting her own daughters so much. So they were civil, but only recently have Félix and Agustín spoken to Alma of at last being able to forgive her, seeing how hard she was trying.

His mamá cried that day.

Camilo and Isabela were yet to let go of their own hurt, but Bruno had a feeling they were steadily getting there. 

Life was better now.

They were free from the chains of unjust obligations that had bound them all their lives, until Alma put her foot down.

They talked things out. 

They mended their relationships and strengthened them.

They had each other, forever and always, and so, Bruno just knew everything was going to work out in the end.

He left his room and followed along the corridor, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips, thinking about his beloved family and how far they have come. His rats were happily nestled in his new ruana’s pockets, content to be with their human, who reciprocated the feeling. 

Delicious smell of Julieta’s cooking reached his nostrils and he could hear everybody else already gathered and helping to lay the table in the kitchen.  

Bruno’s smile widened as he was almost there with them.

Then, something caught his eye.

He turned around and froze, facing the glowing, magical door that definitely hadn't been here the day before. The door that didn’t belong to his sisters nor nieces and nephews.

It was a brand new magical door, between Mirabel’s (who now had her own magical room within Casita, although she herself remained with no gift) and Isabela’s.

“What the…” he whispered, absolutely dumbfounded at the sight he hasn't seen since Mirabel's failed gift ceremony.

Then, after a long moment of just staring at the new door, his heart abruptly sank and he paled several shades. 

Was somebody in his family expecting?!

Was Juli or Pepa, or...?

Bruno felt like fainting.

“Tio Bruno?” was Dolores’ voice, who undoubtedly heard his heart quicken. “Is everything alright?” 

Bruno just groaned and hid his face in his hands. 

It looked like the Madrigals just couldn’t catch a break from the chaos, could they?

He shuffled towards the kitchen where his family were, trying to come up with an appropriate way to break the news to them, falling short. Whatever he said, their reaction would be... wild.  

So much for an uneventful morning.

In fact, Bruno himself had yet to discover just how right he was about that.  

Chapter Text

“Congratulations!” 

Bruno has spent every fraction of every second of walking from the magic doors’ corridor down to the kitchen desperately trying to come up with an appropriate way to inform the rest of the family of the news. He really has. 

By the time he reached the dining table he had several lines thought of. 

‘There’s a new door!’ Nah! Too vague!

‘Someone’s here pregnant!’ Way too blunt!

‘So, which two of you have recently been active in the bedroom?’ Only if he wanted to get killed.  

‘How do you fancy becoming parents… once more?’ Way to break the news without preamble.

And that were only the lines he thought of in case one of his sisters turned out expecting. He did not want to consider a scenario in which it was someone from the younger generation. Julieta and Pepa would absolutely freak.

Though Bruno was fairly positive the only ones anyone could suspect of expecting a child are Dolores and Mariano, who have been engaged for a few months now. The other Madrigal children weren’t even dating yet, as far as Bruno knew, and Isabela has made it perfectly clear she wouldn’t become a mother any time soon.

Everybody gathered in the kitchen were already sitting at the dining table, Camilo and Luisa eating while others appeared to have been waiting for him, and his unusual greeting earned Bruno several raised eyebrows and looks of mild confusion.  

“To who?” his mamá hesitantly asked from her seat.

Bruno awkwardly shuffled over to his chair between Julieta and Pepa, who were both staring at him in suspicion, and cleared his throat.

“Not sure,” Bruno said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under everybody’s gazes.

Knowing looks were exchanged between his hermanas and their husbands, and Bruno could pinpoint the exact moment the four of them simultaneously realised what exactly this was about.

Julieta’s eyebrow twitched.

Agustín and Félix sat impossibly straight in their seats, both a few shades paler; the former actually looked slightly faint.   

Dark cloud started forming above Pepa’s head.

The kids all seemed to be confused by their parents and why they were suddenly looking at Bruno with murder in their eyes, though Dolores - who undoubtedly was hearing their hearts skyrocket by the second - probably had some clue about where the conversation was going. 

A soft squeak escaped her lips. 

“Don’t even think about it, Bruno!” Pepa warned him in a dangerous voice.

Camilo looked back and forth between his mama and tio in bewilderment. “What? ‘Don’t even think about’ what? What's going on?” 

“Ay, dios mio!” Félix hid his face in his hands; Agustín woefully moaned, doing the same.

Abuela inhaled sharply, also catching up to what the conversation was about, and seemed less happy about it than Bruno would’ve thought she’d be, if the expression of dismay on her face was anything to go by. Another testament of her change. 

Julieta sighed heavily, appearing resigned. “Bruno,” she deadpanned. “Who?”

Getting impatient and annoyed at not following the conversation, Isabella growled at the adults talking in riddles. “What are you all talking about?!”

Bruno, ever the stuttering mess in moments like this, could only open and close his mouth as the words of explanation promptly stuck in his throat, inwardly cursing his life. He woke up, thinking that it was going to be a great day he would spend with his family, peacefully, finally enjoying little things bringing him joy, like writing his telenovelas, without the Encanto villagers making it impossible to live to the fullest. And now, he was once again the messenger of not-so-positive news. 

His sisters were fifty-two! Way past their prime when it comes to parenthood! 

If Dolores turned out to be the one expecting, Bruno supposed the news would be much better received. She was young but an adult, and had a fiance who had made it known in the beginning that he would be overjoyed to become a father, and was going to become her husband soon enough. 

Should either Luisa or Isabela be the case, it would probably come off as a great shock, but ultimately it would go over much better than in Mirabel’s case, which Bruno really did not want to consider.

She was only seventeen!

And he absolutely dreaded Pepa’s reaction, should it turn out Camilo got a girl pregnant.

Bruno was also afraid for his own life, because he was the one delivering the news. 

How has he sinned?!

“Tio Bruno thinks that someone here is going to have a baby,” Dolores blurted out, eyes wide as saucers as she said it out loud. “Though I’m not sure how he came to that notion in the first place.”

Camilo, who has been sipping juice from his cup, promptly spat all of it, across the table, on a very shocked Isabela. The young woman was on her feet in an instant, a litany of curses flowing out of her mouth directed at her cousin; Mirabel managed to cover Antonio’s ears just in time, so the boy didn't hear and - god forbid! - started repeating the vile words that her elder sister has taken liking to say every time she lost her temper.

Luisa sat absolutely frozen at the news.

Antonio, on the other hand, was looking happier than anybody else in the family at the moment. “I’m going to have a little hermanito or hermanita?!” he cried out in glee and obviously thrilled. “Or a primo or prima?!” 

“It better not be a sobrino or sobrina,” Félix cut in, his voice ususually low and stern, looking at Dolores and Camilo with dangerously narrowed eyes. His children both started sputtering at the insinuation.   

The cloud above Pepa’s head was now giving the sounds of an upcoming storm.

Bruno gulped. 

“I couldn’t have said that better myself,” Julieta added, giving the same hard look to her three daughters, who immediately all turned bright red, more offended than embarrassed. 

“No kids in this decade, remember?” Isabela asked tersely, crossing her arms over her chest.

Luisa was garbling some sort of response of her own.

“I’m not even dating yet!” Camilo and Mirabel shouted in unison. 

“Mariano and I are waiting!” Dolores said, hands over her ears as the loud voices and skyrocketing heartbeats were being murder on her ear drums.     

Antonio raised his left hand. “And I am seven!” he cheerfully exclaimed. Abuela gave a very undignified sound at her youngest nieto’s words. 

Everyone else momentarily turned silent and looked at the little boy, who was brightly smiling at them and playing with one of Bruno’s rats (Roseta, who must’ve escaped his ruana when the third of Madrigal triplets wasn’t looking).

A moment later laughter erupted from all of their throats. 

Camilo was clutching his belly, rocking back and forth as tears of glee escaped his closed eyes; his father in the similar state. The stormy cloud above Pepa’s head vanished and turned into a rainbow. Dolores was giggling, a hand over her mouth.

Isabela, head on the table, was actually hitting the furniture’s surface with an open hand, loudly crackling in such an unladylike manner it would’ve been pretty much unacceptable two years prior. 

Her sisters were having a fit of laughter as well - Mirabel curled up in her chair, Luisa’s head thrown back. Agustín was laughing so hard he actually fell out of his seat, Julieta nearly falling as well.

Even abuela was in this state of helpless gurgling sounds of mirth escaping her lips, and that wasn’t a common sight in their house.

Bruno huffed chuckles of his own, grateful for the break of tension that has been getting unbearable before Antonio spoke up.

It took a while for everybody to calm down but they eventually did.

Antonio has been very confused by their reaction, looking over everyone with a frown.

“What?” the little boy asked, not understanding what it was that he said that was so funny. “Camilo said you’re not supposed to have children until you’re older than eighteen, and that you need a girl to make them, and I am ap-ap-apparently too small to par-participate in the child-making ritual.” Antonio said, struggling with several words. He then shot an accusatory look at his elder brother, who was now looking at him in disbelief, a lot of shades paler. “And he wouldn’t even say what that ritual is!”

Camilo choked on his spit, utterly speechless. 

Whatever gleeful atmosphere had built up within the last couple of minutes at the dining table left the room as soon as the youngest of the Madrigals has finished talking.

Basically everybody was now glaring at Camilo. Félix was sporting a dark look promising a severe retribution when the current matter was dealt with, while Dolores facepalmed, not at all shocked her younger brother would say such things in front of Antonio.

At least he didn't say too much...

The lightning bolt hit several inches from Camilo, who nearly jumped out of his skin, but words of retaliation died in his throat at the look of pure fury on his mother’s face; there was an outright black cloud above her head. 

Bruno pinched a bridge of his nose.

Oh, dart! The anger was back.

“Camilo Madrigal!” Pepa growled. "You are in so much trouble, young man!"  

The boy sputtered, but didn’t talk back, waging his options and clearly coming to the conclusion it wasn’t worth getting charred. 

The youngest Madrigal triplet decided to come to his sobrino’s rescue and get the conversation back on the previous track, however uncomfortable it originally made him feel.

''To answer your previous question,'' Bruno chimed in, drawing everyone's attention back to himself. "I have no idea. I didn't have any vision about it. But there is a new door in the corridor upstairs, so I thought...'' Bruno trailed off, making a circling gesture as to sum up everything that occurred between him finding said door and the moment at hand.

No sooner have these words left Bruno's mouth than his family was overtaken by a very palpable wave of shock.

His mother was on her feet in an instant.

"Show me," she all but demanded, sounding almost like she used to over two years ago and it made Bruno feel slightly uncomfortable. Judging by his hermanas' expressions, he wasn't alone in the sentiment. 

Nevertheless, he complied.

The sounds of chairs being moved were heard as not only Bruno and Alma, but the rest of the family as well, stood up and went to follow them, also wanting to see the new door the seer was talking about.

The Madrigals went together upstairs and were soon gathered in the corridor where all the magical doors were. 

Bruno stopped in his tracks and raised his hand, pointing to the dimly glowing door that was still placed between Isabela's and Mirabel's. 

Gasps and sharp intakes of breath were heard.

Another lightning bolt cracked from the cloud still above Pepa's head.

Although it wasn't out of his madre's anger at him this time, Camilo couldn't help but flinch and yelp.

Isabela snorted at her cousin's misfortune, still annoyed over having a fruit juice all over her dress.

Alma walked closer to the door, eyes wide in awe, though she was also looking quite shocked, and Bruno wasn't sure why until she spoke, "How strange," in a whisper.

The triplets exchanged glances.

"What do you mean, mamá?" Julieta asked, walking up to the elderly woman, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Alma sighed and turned away from the door to properly face the family. 

"It is highly surprising, it is all," she solemnly said. "Never has any of magical doors here appeared in the time of pregnancy. It always, always, happened on the day of a Madrigal's fifth birthday." 

For a short strech nobody said anything, pondering on Alma's words.

Then, Mirabel broke the silence. "Does this rule out the possibility of someone in the family being with a child?" 

Abuela nodded her head. "I'm fairly certain that it does," she responded; Julieta and Pepa both sighed in relief at the information.

"Dios mio, gracias!" the former all but cried out.

A rainbow appeared above Pepa's frame. "Good lord, I love my children, but three is enough!" Félix put an arm around his wife, looking equally relieved. 

"I couldn't agree more, mi vida," he said.

The children all looked offended at their parents' reaction, even Antonio.

Bruno frowned.

He turned to his mamá. "If it isn't a new Madrigal's birth the case, what is?"

Alma shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose the time will tell." 

At that exact moment, just when the last word of the sentence left her mouth, Dolores gasped. "Oh, god!"

~

Dolores has been trying to concentrate on what was being said within the Madrigal household, especially now that the mystery of a new door was being discussed, but it proved to be a challanging endeavour when she could simultaneously hear everything else happening within the borders of Encanto, and even a bit farther, right until the river of Pedro Madrigal's death.

The ongoing onslaught of sounds kept coming from all directions.

Over the years since her miserable disaster of a gift ceremony, Dolores has learned a thing or two in the matter of managing her unfortunate ability.

To avoid getting overwhelmed, which used to happen a lot when she was a child, Dolores - with the help of her patents - came up with several ways to remain afloat in that sea of sounds. More often than anything else, she would concentrate on her family's heartbeats, which she memorised to perfection, as it kept her grounded. 

Still, it didn't fix the problem completely.

Even now, as she was listening to her family, their words and heartbeats, she could still hear the villagers of the Encanto, animals in the jungle, noises coming from the forest, the sound of the river. All of it.

"Have you got any eggs?" 

"Mummy, I want chocolate!" 

"Where is that stupid oaf! My madre will be here any minute!" 

"Fuck, beloved, almost... Damnit, almost!"

Dolores cringed. 

Over the years, she came to somewhat tolerate her gift, which admittedly had quite the number of pros to it. However those handy advantages didn't change the fact she wished, and sometimes even prayed, she didn't hear everything going on in and around the Encanto all the time.

Hearing the villagers - or her parents, for that matter! - in the middle of a heated sex was disgusting and very uncomfortable.

In the past, before the loss of her gift and then her abuela's change, Dolores was a gossip girl of the area, and whenever someone came to her for this kind of information she would curse the Candle. 

She couldn't control her gift like that!

She couldn't help that she had such an ability! 

Was it so beyond the villagers' level of comprehension that a girl being able to hear such untowad things was a miserable experience, at best?

Dolores sighed.

Her gift was a very heavy burden to carry, although no heavier than the gifts of others in the family, as each came with its own load of downsides. 

Still, it had its uses.

It made possible for Dolores to detect her loved ones whenever they were out of sight for longer than they should.

It allowed her to hear Mariano's beautiful voice for all these years - just like it was right now, as he was singing a song of his own writing to his mother.

It helped her hear the children that would get lost in the jungle every so often.

A moan of agony, followed by a sob.

Dolores froze.

The sound fell on her ears with much more force than it usually would, even though it came from outside of the valley.

From the riverbank where they were given the Miracle, fifty-two years ago.

Another sob. Louder this time.

Dolores squeeked in worry and confusion.

If there was one thing her gift granted, it was Dolores having each and every voice, heartbeat and steps of people living within the Encanto memorised a long time ago.

And she didn't recognise that voice at all.

It didn't belong to anyone from the Encanto.

Unless that person, by some very improbable chance, had only been active whenever Dolores would be in her soundproof bedroom, the voice belonged to an outsider.

And it sounded like a voice of a child. More specifically, a little boy.

Dolores closed her eyes and focused on the new sound, which wasn't much of a difficulty percisely because it was unfamiliar, hence standing out. 

What she heard broke her heart.

Sobs turned into full breakdown.

The river.

A body slowly getting out of the water.

Heart beating too fast - in terror.

A rustle of leaves under the body's weigh.

Screams of pain at every movement.

He was hurt!

"Agni, make it stop!" 

Dolores had no idea who or what was this 'Agni', but it was painfully obvious the boy was suffering.

Another loud sob, followed by a sniffle.

"Hurts..."

Dolores felt her eyes well up.

Whimper.

"What is this place? The ocean... How... Hnn, hurts!" 

So not only was the boy in pain, but also lost in the jungle. 

Did he say 'ocean'? Dolores never left the Encanto, but if there was one thing she knew about the outside world (beside the obvious fact that it was huge and rich in thousands of cultures) was that the closest coastline was very, very far away.

The boy could not have been near the ocean and then just appear at the border of the Encanto. 

Then again, lots of things Dolores witnessed on a daily basis shouldn't be possible.

The boy kept whimpering and sobbing, and crawling - was he so hurt he couldn't walk?! - and mumbling things that honestly felt like daggers to Dolores' heart.

Then, the next thing he said made her gasp. 

"Oh, Agni! Hurts! Please, just make it stop! Just take it away! Take me! Just... I beg you!"

"Oh, god!" Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

The boy couldn't be older than in his early teens. And he has been so hurt that he was now literally begging for death.

Never has Dolores felt so horrified.

"Father was right... He was... Oh, spirits! Agni, please... Just let me die!" 

Dolores felt a loud sob of her own erupt from her throat.

By now her family noticed her distress.

The door was forgotten instantly. 

"Lola, what's wrong?!" Her mother was at her side in a moment's notice, snow falling down from the new cloud above Pepa's head - reflecting her own distress, checking Dolores over for any sign of wound. When the woman didn't detect any visible injury, she connected the dots.

Her daughter heard something awful that brought her to the point of tears.

Félix came closer to them, cupping Dolores' cheek to wipe tears that escaped her eyes. "Hija, what is the matter?" His voice was gentle and careful, as though he were talking to a frightened child.

Which was ironic, seeing how the reason why Dolores was now crying was, in fact, a child that was obviously frightened to death... and begging for it because of the pain.

Dolores sniffled.

Then, she heard the most devastating words a child could say.

"I shouldn't ...ve been born. Father... Right... Lucky to be-be born... Useless... Hnn, hurts... Mum... I... Failure... Sorry... Bad..." 

God! 

This poor child...

"Dolores!" Her parents cried, snapping her out of her thoughts. She noticed how the dark clouds started to gather above the Encanto. 

Dolores looked over her family with a teary eyes.

Her parents looked sick with worry, as did Camilo, holding a very confused Antonio in his arms. 

Her primas all sported expressions of worry, same as their parents, holding each other close.

Tio Bruno was fidgeting with his hands, muttering his old mantra, "Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock! Knock on wood!" 

Her grandmother's heart was all over the place and Dolores could only imagine the horrors the elder woman had going through her mind. 

"Please... Someone..."

The voice was getting weaker and weaker, and Dolores realised his heartbeat was slowing down as well.

"Help..."

The child was alone and suffering, and dying, and there wasn't time to waste! 

And so, Dolores finally got a hold of herself.

Meeting her family's gazes, she said in a wavering voice, "There is a boy at the riverbank where abuelo Pedro died. An outsider. He's lost and frightened, and I think someone terrible hurt him."

Her words raised the alarm among the Madrigals.

Dolores powered through the most painful part and then broke down into harsh sobs.

"And I think... I think he's dying!" 

As Dolores sank to her knees, her parents and brothers all rushing to comfort her, Luisa, Isabela and Mirabel bolted out of Casita, followed by Julieta, who quickly ran to the kitchen and took a handful of arepas. 

The three Madrigal sisters, along with their mother, then ran to the stables, took four horses and left for the jungle. 

Alma stood there frozen, Agustín and Bruno at her sides, unable to do anything other than pray to the god and to the Miracle for this child's life. 

Dolores just sobbed in her parents and brothers' embrace.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by eight of the Madrigals who remained within Casita, the new door was losing its already dim glow and becoming less visible with each passing second.

Chapter Text

The three Madrigal sisters, along with their mother, were galloping through the jungle, hearts going a mile a second, only one thing on their minds: get to the boy Dolores spoke about and get to him fast. Mirabel was leading the way as she knew the quickest route to abuelo Pedro's river best - she's been there a few times since her conversation with abuela that took place there right after the collapse of Casita. 

With each minute the women felt more and more agitated, hoping to get to the child as fast as possible, especially because - according to Dolores - he was in mortal peril, but at the same time, they feared what they would find there.

Julieta was praying they got there on time.

As they were passing through the cracked mountain, Mirabel had a very pessimistic thought cross her already racing mind. The riverbank they were hurrying for was the place of their grandfather's demise fifty-two years ago. What was it about that place that seemed to be a magnet for tragedies? 

What if they were too late?

What if the boy was dead by the time they got there?

It wasn't a short distance from their village to that river. They didn't have Dolores with them anymore to monitor his situation, as she stayed in Casita, but - from what she said before the four of them basically bolted out of the house - the boy was in a lot of pain and she thought he was dying. If that really was the case, time was scarce.

Another, even worse thought came to Mirabel's mind. Dolores said she thought someone horrible hurt that boy. She didn't say how or if they were still there. Hopefully, they weren't. Mirabel supposed Luisa would be able to deal with such a brutish person, no matter how twisted and horrible, and outright despicable, they were for harming a child, but at the same time, she would rather avoid the conflict. For everyone's sake. The boy's, as he no doubt has witnessed enough violence already, firsthand and on his own body. Theirs, as they have never been put in a situation like this before and weren't looking forward for that to change. Their village, as the Encanto residents were all in danger, should there be more lowlifes out there in the jungle. 

And even aside from all of this, Mirabel wasn't positive her magically strong sister could do anything if the agressor turned out to have firearms.

Perhaps they ought to have left a little more prepared for such a possibility, where they had to fight. Though, now that Mirabel thought about it, were there even any weapons back in the Encanto village? That was never an issue before. The Encanto was supposed to be a safe heaven without violence, but in the face of crisis, how would their community fight off attackers?

Mirabel paled at the realisation that anything could have happened in the months following the destruction of Casita. Without their gifts, they would have been all defenseless. 

Once they got back and the boy was safe, that was definitely the issue the Madrigals had to tackle next.

Her eldest hermana's voice shook Mirabel out of her miserable train of thoughts. "How far do we have?" 

Bespectacled girl glanced at Isabela over her shoulder. "Ten minutes or so," she responded. "Maybe even less."

Luisa, riding at the back, looked hardly relieved at the information and frankly, so did Isabela and their mama.

Mirabel felt nauseous.

Any minute now, they were going to reach their destination. And all of them dreaded what they would find there.

By the time Mirabel heard the sound of water over the clatter of their horses' hoovers, fear was painfully squeezing her insides. 

And then, after another turn...

"THERE!" Isabela screamed, pointing with her hand to what looked like a bundle of red, lying motionelessly by the river. 

Mirabel felt her heart drop and shatter when she started to see it in more detail. It wasn't an "it", it was the person they set off to find.

The little boy.

And he wasn't moving.

"Oh, god!" Luisa exclaimed, a hand to her mouth while holding the reins in the other, eyes going impossibly wide with horror.

On the bright side of things, whoever has hurt that child didn't seem to be here anymore, so they at least wouldn't need to fight anyone.

Julieta was first to reach the boy. She halted the horse and didn't even bother tying it by the reins to the nearest tree branch, before dropping to her knees next to the child.

The very first thing she noticed about the boy was how most of his head was shaved with only one knot tied in a peculiar manner. In fact, he was basically bald. Then, Julieta's hand flew to her mouth, wide with horror, as she was taking in the outfit he wore. 

Armour.

This child was wearing armour. 

Why was this child wearing armour!? 

Red and grey armor, with fire shaped insignia, that not only looked very uncomfortable to wear but obviously meant to make him appear older and scarier. However, with how small he was, the only horror filling Julieta' s heart at the sight of him was the realisation she was looking at a child soldier. 

And then the smell hit her nostrils and the woman was even more horrified and heartbroken. 

It was the smell of a burnt and rotting skin! 

And he was lying face down and completely still. 

By the time her daughters joined her, all free of them had tears in their eyes as they also felt utterly mortified at his appearance.

"Mamá!" Mirabel cried, looking at Julieta with so scared and pained expression that the elder woman almost couldn't bear the sight. 

Luisa was sniffling, and Isabela could only look at the child lying on the ground with glassy eyes and a hand over her mouth.

They all knew how horrible and cruel the world could be. Through Alma's tales; through the stories of the oldest generation living in the Encanto; through some of their own horrible and mind-boggling experiences - they knew. 

Life wasn't fair. The history of menkind, from its earliest times through centuries upon centuries to the current age, was dripping blood. 

There had been a great war going on - two wars, in fact, separated by about twenty years of uneasiness - that came to an end less than a decade ago; Bruno foresaw it a few months before Mirabel's fifth birthday. Europe in ruins. Millions of people needlessly but unimaginably cruelly murdered in what was supposed to be a genocide of a "less-than race", at whim of a one deranged German leader. Starvation. Fright. Bloodshed. Torture. Families torn apart; friendships broken. Homelessness. A worldwide grief.

Pedro Madrigal, their own father and grandfather, had died because of other people's greed and cruelty.

But this was a child. 

And no child deserved this. 

Having to fight. Having to do cruel, backbreaking, unforgivable things that leave a lasting trauma. Having to witness death. 

Having to kill just to survive.

Whoever he was, wherever he came from - he did not deserve to take part in wars and suffer in such heartshattering way. 

"Niño?" Julieta asked in a gentle voice, reaching out to roll the boy over. "Can you hear me, little one?" 

But as soon as her hands made contact with his body, a shriek of terror escaped the child. He blindly swinged with his left arm and Julieta never saw the flame coming her way until her skin was burning. The woman couldn't help but let out an agonised scream the moment she registered the excruciating pain in her right forearm.

"MAMÁ!" Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel all shrieked.

Dark clouds have gathered above their heads in a matter of seconds, the wind started howling and the lightning bolt split the sky in two with a defeaning crack - no doubt Dolores heard her tia scream and informed Pepa, who immediately assumed the worst. 

The boy broke into harsh sobs at the sound of thunder and curled up in himself, babbling incomprehensible words. 

Julieta forced down the panic and immediately took out of her bag one of several arepas she grabbed before leaving Casita. With a single bite the pain and the burn vanished in a moment's notice. 

She took a deep calming breath, wiped a hand across her face and looked at her shellshocked daughters. "It's alright, hijas," she assured them. "Not a scrach anymore." Then, as another crack of lightning was heard, followed by a scream of terror and loud sobs, Julieta realised the noises of thunder were scaring the boy more than he already was. She turned her head in the direction of where they arrived from and in a very gentle voice she addressed her sobrina, "Everything's fine, Dolores. Please, tell your mamá that I am alright and that she can relax. We've found the boy, but he seemes to be terrified of lightning, so... please, let your mamá know she doesn't need to be worried anymore." 

Almost immediately, the thunder started to abate and the wind eased; the clouds over their heads began scattering until the sky was blue again, and Julieta felt guilty for making her hermana force down her emotions - which the eldest of Madrigal triplets wholeheartly appreciated and would feel the same way if the tables turned - but the boy was now the priority.

"Niño?" Julieta tried again. The boy was shaking all over and sobbing. "Little one?"

More sobbing sounds fell on her ears and each felt like poisonous daggers piercing Julieta through the heart.

"Sweatheart..." Before Julieta could say more, the child spoke.

"I... I... I didn't mean to!" His voice was raspy and shaky. "I'm so-sorry! Please! Don't!" 

Tears fell down Julieta's eyes; her daughters were all silently crying.

"Oh, niño," Julieta said.

"Don't kill me!" the boy screamed. "Please!"

A sob broke its way out of Mirabel's throat.

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" 

He was still facing the ground, making it impossible for Julieta to properly see his face, but he was trembling so hard his armour was giving a creaking sounds and she could now hear him hyperventilating. 

"Niño..." 

"I'M SORRY!" The boy yelled, and then screamed of pain at the tiniest movement he did.

The smell of burnt flesh filled Julieta's nostrils again and so very intensively.

"Niño, can you look at me? Please, just try to roll over a bit," she begged the boy, voice wavering. "I won't hurt you. My hijas won't either. We just want to help you." 

The boy risked a glance at Julieta and then, with a loud cry of agony, he complied.

Julieta almost broke into sobs herself.

The boy looked really, really young. Barely into puperty and so terribly small for his age. His face was splotched with tears and snot, and his eyes - slant in a way only unique to someone from Eastern Asia, and of the most beautiful shade of liquid gold - were puffy and bloodshot. He was sickly pale and thin.

However, the only thing Julieta could look at was the enormous burn that covered almost an entire half of his face, including his left eye.

The wound that was still somewhat fresh, unhealed and poorly treated, if it has even been treated at all, now obviously infected, and it was dripping rot. The sight was sickening. 

No wonder he was in so much pain!

Julieta gathered the child in her arms, as gently and carefully as she possibly could, and the boy loudly cried at being moved.

"No... No!" he wailed in terror. "Don't!"

"I won't, I..." Julieta had to take another breath to calm herself, before speaking again. "You don't have to be scared. We will help you." 

The boy shook his head, tears falling his uninjured eye in a watefall. "L-Lie! You won't! You-You will hurt me!" he sobbed, frantically looking between the woman and her three daughters, all of whom becoming more and more heartbroken over his words.

Julieta kissed his forehead. 

The boy gave a tiny flinch but leaned to the act of affection nevertheless.

Taking it as a small victory, Julieta put another gentle kiss to his forehead and then asked, "What is your name, niño?" 

The boy sniffled. "Zu-Zu..." he stuttered. "Zuko."

Julieta smiled at the child in her arms. "It is very nice to meet you, Zuko. My name is Julieta," she introduced herself. "These are my daughters: Isa, Luisa and Mira."

Zuko glanced at the three girls before looking away.

That's when Mirabel hesitantly chimed in. "Why do you think we would hurt you?" 

The child curled up even further in Julieta's arms. "I burned Juli... Julie...ta... I burned her." More tears fell down his right cheek. "I'm a firebender." A sob escaped him. "I didn't mean to." He looked to Julieta's eyes, pleadingly and fearfully. "Please, please, ma'am! I didn't mean to!" 

"Zuko..." Julieta uttered.

"I didn't mean to!" He broke into sobs again, but his voice has grown a lot weaker as the conversation progressed. 

Eventually they reduced into hiccups and then he has gone a lot more quiet, a few sniffling sounds and whimpering noises here and there.

The woman felt her mind racing as she replayed Zuko's words in her head, over and over again, until they truly impacted her.

The boy said that he burned her.

He called himself a firebender, whatever that was.

And he thought she was going to kill him for it. 

Heartbroken but still composed, Julieta decided to tackle that topic at later date. For now the boy needed an arepa.

Just as she was about to offer him one, Isabela's teary voice was heard - "Mamá!" She sounded mortified and near a panic attack - and Julieta's head snapped to look at her eldest daughter, who was pointing to something with her hand.

Julieta followed that direction with her eyes and all air was kicked out of her lungs at the sight of a large piece of wood sticking out of Zuko's calf and the pool of blood under his punctured right leg.

The woman felt her heart drop. Her breathing picked up and her stomach bottomed out as she came to yet another realisation.

How had she not noticed it the moment she laid her eyes on him? 

How had she not seen how he was literally bleeding out in her arms!? How had she not smelled the blood earlier!? 

The stench of his burn was bad and very intensive, but still...

Julieta's hastly reached into her bag and took out an arepa.

"Niño," she started, but then she looked back at the boy, who was lying totally unmoving and worryingly quiet in her arms, and she felt herself becoming overcome with despair and panic and guilt and sorrow. 

Zuko wasn't conscious anymore.

Chapter Text

Luisa Madrigal was, shockingly, not panicking. 

Not at all. 

She was definitely devastated, more than she has been in a very long time, and she did feel like going a tad bit into a frenzy when her mother got burned by Zuko (How was he even able to literally create fire out of nothing was something Luisa didn't really process yet, because it was so mind-boggling!), but the panic had yet to cloud her mind.

Which was quite the achievement, considering her track record of reacting to terrible situations. Then again, she used to be a much less confident and way more insecure teenage girl back then, with a mountain of mind-boggling demands and heavy expectations weighing her down.

Her mental health had been in shambles.

It wasn't now. 

It hasn't been for a while.

In the past, when it came to the situations where it was a sturdy mind needed to tackle and find solutions to problems, Luisa didn't use to be the one for the job. Never. Of course, she has always been doing her best to be as reliable and trustworthy of a sibling - or prima, or sobrina, or hija, or nieta, or anyone to whomever needed her help and support - as humanly possible, but dealing with emotions on certain levels was never really her strong suit.

Fourteen years of backbreaking manual labour for needy, lazy, spoiled villagers would do that to anyone, let alone a nineteen-year-old who thought her only value was in her magical strength.

In fact, the only factor Luisa used to think was positive about her predicament, which was thankfully a thing of the past now, and about herself in general, was how her body became so athletic, just on the right side of muscular in her opinion, even if unusually so for a woman. Luisa honestly never disliked her body. She loved it. And she loved how it allowed her to protect her loved ones from harm and shield them when they needed her to.

That's part of the reason why she had been so devastated and frightened when her gift began fading.

Losing her strength meant not being able to protect the people she loved anymore.

To Luisa Madrigal the very purpose she had in life was being her family's protector.

That's whom she was and whom she wanted to be.

However, in a moment of emotional or mental vulnerability, it was always her mother, and as of late Mirabel as well, to offer a shoulder to lean on, a word of advice and a warm hug. They were the unwavering ones in situations like this. The two hearts of pure gold, beating for the family and all of the Encanto, constantly ready to give and give and give, with bright smiles and not asking for much of anything in return, until they burned out. 

Although their family has come a very long way in the span of the last two years, neither Julieta nor Mirabel changed in that particular aspect. 

Perhaps this was why they were both now in a state Luisa has never seen before.

Her mother was calling out to Zuko, voice tearful and desperate, begging him to wake up. She looked as though she had no idea what to do anymore. Mirabel has all but promptly burst into heartbreaking sobs, wrecking her entire body.

Isabela, although trying to remain composed, had tears flowing down her cheeks, trembling all over at the sight.

Luisa herself was sniffling, having been openly crying a few minutes ago, appalled by just how unfair was this child's fate going to be, by the look of things, and yet she somehow remained relatively calm. Or as calm as could be expected in a moment like this. Her breathing was even. Her eyes observed everything unfolding sharply. 

Her mamá let out a sob of despair. "Please, niño, open your eyes!" At this point Julieta lost all of her composure. Luisa understood why. Although they didn't know anything at all about Zuko, other than his name, there seemed to be something special about him. Something that was pulling on all of their heartstrings and made them want to wrap the boy in a blanket of love and keep him away from all that was evil about the world. 

And by the looks on their equally devastated and horrified faces, Mirabel and Isabela felt the same way as their mother. And so did Luisa.

But as she kept watching their mother fail to rouse Zuko enough to feed him an arepa, Luisa came to the conclusion that the boy was going to remain unconscious, pale as a corpse and no doubt wouldn't be waking up any time soon. 

And he didn't have that much time left.

Both of his wounds were posing a direct threat to his life. The massive burn on his heartbreakingly small and thin face seemed to be dripping rottenness, and the puddle of blood still leaking from where an enormous wooden splinter had punctured his right leg was getting bigger by the minute.

It was only a matter of time - time they did not have - before Zuko's body lost the battle and succumbed to his injuries.

And that wasn't even the only issue. 

Zuko was sickly thin underneath that strange armour he was wearing. His cheeks (and probably not just them) were sunken, skin worryingly greyish, and Luisa really didn't need to come from the outside of Encanto - the world of violence and pain and injustice - to know full well that no healthy person looked like this. As though he would snap in two at the slightest squeeze. 

He looked like tio Bruno had after a decade of living in hiding within the walls.

No wonder Dolores said she thought he was dying.

Of course, Luisa wasn't a doctor by any means; neither was her mamá to be honest. However, she was fairly certain that if Zuko didn't die of his wounds, infection and blood loss, the severe malnourishment he was obviously suffering from would kill him.

Just for how long has he been on his own to end up in such a horrible state?

How did he gain his wounds?

What happened to him?

As moments went by, Zuko was not waking up.

Julieta was hugging him to her chest, sobbing in defeat and helplessness, and so were Mirabel and Isabela. 

Luisa knew her mother well enough to know she was blaming herself.

Julieta Madrigal, for all the progress she made throughout the last two years in the matter of understanding that she is so much more than just her gift, was used to solving all life-threatening issues in a hearbeat, for the magic of her healing food. Her past experiences aside, Julieta loved helping others and took pride in being a safety net for those in need. 

And now, Zuko was slipping through a gap in that net because she didn't manage to feed him the magical arepa of healing before he lost consciousness out of blood loss.

Luisa knew that feeling very well.

Self-blame at not being able to prevent tragedies from happening.

The second of Julieta's daughters couldn't help but make comparisons of the situation at hand to what happened a few years ago, only the man who had perished that day died of severe necrosis caused by a spider's venom. 

Luisa remembered that mournful day very vividly, because she had been the one to find him, lying motionlessly deep in the jungle. Then, he had still been lucid enough to talk. By the time she brought him back to the village, however, the man all but became catatonic and there was no way to feed him her mother's healing food. 

He died in an unimaginable pain and Luisa never quite let go of the nagging sense of guilt - that he surely would have lived, if she had just been faster to reach the village and her mother.

Or, if not her, a doctor.

Zuko was dying in Julieta's arms. He was unconscious, so there was no way for them to feed him the healing arepa.

But maybe there was still hope.

He was still breathing. 

He didn't bleed out yet.

And there was a doctor in the Encanto village, who probably could help Zuko. Señor Gonzales was around Luisa's abuela's age and used to be one of the finest experts in his field before having been forced to abandon his hometown, fifty-two years ago. Throughout the time he lived in the Encanto, Señor Gonzales saved a lot of people's lives, and his medical knowledge and competence was crucial during the months following Casita's breaking. 

Right now, if Julieta couldn't help Zuko, Señor Gonzales was the boy's only hope.

Unfortunately, there was one major obsticle that complicated things. The ride from the village to the riverbank was at least a thirty-minute long by horse and by galloping. Zuko was in no condition for this kind of travel and probably didn't have those thirty minutes. 

But until his heart stopped beating forever, Luisa was not going to give up on this child.

She would bring Zuko back to the Encanto for the doctor to help him. Whatever it took. 

She had to.

And she might just came up with a solution to how she was going to do it in the fastest way possible.

It was risky and Luisa would probably get a severe tongue-lashing and then a punishment a lifetime, but if it was the only way to guarantee Zuko got the medical attention he so desperately needed, it would be worth whatever awaited her afterwards.

Having made up her mind, Luisa raised her head to speak up. "Mamá," she began; Julieta looked up at her daughter with bloodshot eyes and quivering mouth. Luisa spreaded her arms. "Give him to me."

The woman sniffled and asked, "Why?", in a quiet but confused voice.

It didn't escape Luisa's notice how her mother subconsciously hugged Zuko even closer to herself. 

Whether it was a heartworming or annoying sight, considering the circumstances, Luisa didn't have the time to ponder on.

"I'm taking him to Señor Gonzales," Luisa explained and gathered Zuko into her arms before her mamá had the time to comply or protest.

Once she was holding him, the second of Madrigal sisters felt her stomach churning at how heartbreakingly light the boy was. 

Luisa sniffled, cleared her throat and addressed her sisters. "Mira, wrap something around the wound. Don't pull the wood out, just tie some piece of fabric around it." Then she looked to Isabela. "We also need to tie some sort of 'clamp band' around his tigh to slow down the blood loss." 

No sooner have these words left Luisa's mouth than were her sisters doing as told.

Mirabel reached into her own bag and pulled out a long yellow shawl she has been working on embroiding recently. It wasn't ideal but this would have to do; they didn't have any actual bandages on them, because they did not account for the case scenario in which Julieta would not be able to help with her food. So, without any hesitation she started bandaging Zuko's wound, as tightly but carefully as possible. 

And wasn't it just terrifying how the action didn't get so much as a grimance of pain from Zuko?

Of course they didn't want add to his pain, but it would have been better if he at least gave some sort of reaction, instead of remaining so unresponsive. 

As Mirabel was finishing bandaging the wound, Isabela promptly torn her dress and wrapped the piece of fabric above Zuko's knee, maing the tighest knot she could.

Once they were done, Luisa stood up.

"Wait, Luisa!" Her mother and sisters were on their feet in an instant as well. It was Isabela who called after her. "What is the plan? How will we- Can Zuko even be on a horse in his condition?"

Mirabel countered her oldest sister's point with a one of her own. "Well, it's not like we can fly him to the village, can we?" 

Isabela turned to glare at her bespectacled hermana. "What I mean is that Zuko might not have that much time it will take us to ride back to the Encanto, and galloping will probably do him more harm than good." The eldest of Madrigal sisters had to pause for a breath; then she continued in a softer voice. "What if it makes him bleed more?"

Mirabel didn't have an answer to that.

Julieta walked up to where Luisa was standing and put a kiss on Zuko's forehead. "All that matters is saving him," their mother whispered, gently stroking the boys shaved head. "If Señor Gonzales in the only one who can give Zuko the help he needs, then we must do whatever it takes to ensure he gets there." Having their mother say that pretty much settled the discussion.

And that was that. 

No more needed to be said.

It's been decided.

Luisa took a deep breath to calm her nerves. What she was about to do was... something she has never even attempted to do. 

It was going to be a very long shot, in every meaning of the phrase, but she wasn't going to back down.

She stepped back several paces and then turned around, facing the cracked mountain. Which stood tall, towering over the jungle and where they were currently being, a few miles away. 

"Luisa?" Mirabel asked.

Suddenly, Luisa's heart was basically hammering in her chest that was feeling very tight. Her breathing sped up. She felt herself getting more and more sweaty with each passing fraction of the last dozen of seconds. 

"Dolores?" Luisa quietly said to her prima, who was no doubt still listening to everything occurring on this side of the cracked mountain. "If you could, please, not tell the others of what you're about to hear, that would be very much appreciated." Luisa then added with a nervous chuckle, "I don't want a lightning bolt hitting me."

"Luisa, what?" Was Isabela's voice, and she sounded like she had a hint her sister was about to do something incredibly stupid.

Luisa took another long breath, ignoring her mother's alarmed, "Luisa Madrigal, what are you doing!?", and simply took off. 

With a several meters long running start, Luisa took a leap, channeling as much of the strength she had in her legs... and was soon soaring in the air.

"OH MY GOD!" Mirabel shrieked. "I WAS JOKING ABOUT THE FLYING! THAT WAS A JOKE!"

"What the- FUCK!" She heard Isabela scream.

"LUISA MADRIGAL, JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET THERE AND... ARGH, YOU ARE SO GROUNDED!" Yup, her mother was livid.

On the bright side of things, no lightning bolt hit her so at least Dolores has kept her mouth shut.

Plus, the view was the most magnificent and outright mind-blowing Luisa has ever seen in her entire life, all of the jungle surrounding her home within Luisa's seeing range all at once. From this height it seemed endless, the trees were going as far as the horison line. 

She felt as though she was literally flying. 

It was an experience Luisa was definitely going to repeat.

And then, a few minutes later, she gracefully landed in the middle of the Encanto village square, probably scaring the life out of every single person present, if screams of shock some of them let out upon her very unexpected appearance were anything to go by.

Paying them no mind, Luisa immediately ran to Señor Gonzales' house, her hold on Zuko firm but gentle. 

She was praying the doctor could help.

Otherwise, they needed a miracle.

Chapter Text

Any other day and in any other circumstance, Isabela would burst out laughing where she stood at the stunt Luisa had just pulled off, but she really was not in the mood for that. Not after meeting Zuko… or rather the heart shattering way they have met him. Not after seeing how cruel the outside world has treated that little boy. 

Isabela sighed heavily as she lost the sight of her foolhardy younger hermana, wiping a hand over her still slightly damp eyes, and turned to look at her seething mamá and bewildered youngest hermana.

In contradiction to how she was previously overcome with sorrow and the feeling of helplessness, Julieta now looked like she might start spitting fire. 

Good thing that was not her gift.

And a part of Isabela was glad for the change in her mother’s mood. Seeing the woman look so defeated and panicked and devastated was definitely something the eldest of Madrigal grandchildren would gladly never witness again. 

In a low voice promising the harshest punishment of Luisa’s lifetime, Julieta hissed, "I'm so grounding her!", as well as several colourful curses, and Isabela couldn't say she blamed her mamá for such a reaction.

What Luisa has just done was dangerous, in the gentlest way of putting it, and the eldest Madrigal granddaughter couldn't list all the ways it could have gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it didn’t. They’d know once they were back within the Encanto. 

As soon as Isabela saw Luisa next, she was going to hug daylights out of her hermana for her quick thinking in the moment where Julieta, Mirabel and Isabela herself were a complete mess. And then, she was going to strangle her. 

And if Luisa died or seriously injured herself because of her apparent lack of self preservation Isabela was going to murder her!

On the other hand, she felt pride swelling within her at Luisa's dedication to saving Zuko's life and marvelled at her bravery. By how genuinely nervous she seemed mere moments before jumping, Isabela guessed her hermana was playing the stunt by ear. It must have taken a lot of courage to do something quite so selfless... and stupid beyond saying.

Who knew Luisa had it in her...

"I had no idea she could do that," Mirabel broke the silence that fell over them, the tone of her voice one of awe.

Isabela nodded at her little sister. “Neither had I,” she admitted in a soft voice, walking up to Mirabel and taking her hand in hers. Mirabel squeezed Isabela’s hand, leaning towards her. In response, Isabela wrapped her arms around the younger girl, who buried her nose in the croak of Isabela’s neck and sniffled. “What’s wrong?” 

Mirabel shook her head. “Why?” was the only thing she said, in a broken voice. 

By now Julieta was not seething anymore; her shoulders slumped a bit and she just appeared drained and sadder than she felt in years. She looked at her hijas with sorrowful expression and her heart broke for the both of them. 

The entire situation must have been an awful, if not outright traumatising, experience for her little girls - even though they were not at all little anymore. 

All three of them - Julieta as well as her daughters, and pretty much everybody else who’ve never truly experienced life outside of the Encanto - were sheltered, which was a fact more obvious now than ever before. And to get a firsthand taste of how cruel and unjust the world they lived in treated even its youngest inhabitants was horrible beyond description. 

Isabela hugged Mirabel a tad bit tighter, closing her eyes. “I don’t know, sis,” she murmured. One of her hands started stroking the back of Mirabel’s head. “I just don’t know.” Although Mirabel didn’t elaborate the meaning of her one-word question, she did not need to. Isabela understood. 

And she wished she had some sort of an answer. 

Something, anything, to justify this terrible act of cruelty done to Zuko.

Because Isabela knew that injuries and genuine fear in his voice as they approached him were the effect of somebody’s abuse over Zuko. She couldn’t prove it if she tried, but she has never been more certain of anything in her entire life. 

What child thought they’d be needlessly hurt by other people, if they hadn’t been hurt before?

Never has Isabela Madrigal felt true desire to commit murder before in her life. She felt it now. It was as powerful and burning as it was unfamiliar and terrifying. She wished she could find Zuko’s abuser to wrap him in thorny vines and crush their bones and watch life leaving their body.

She wished to do something she has never wished to do in twenty-four years of her life. Until this very moment.

She wished to kill.  

Mirabel shifted in her hold and Isabela felt her heart drop and shatter into pieces as sob escaped her little hermana’s throat. 

“He was so scared!” Mirabel whimpered.

“I know,” Isabela whispered.

Bespectacled girl trembled with suppressed wails choking her. “And-and that… that burn! Who would…? How did…?” Whatever else Mirabel wanted to say was lost to them as the dam broke and the youngest Madrigal granddaughter burst in tears, loudly wailing into Isabela’s shoulder.

Julieta quickly crossed over to them and enveloped her two daughters in an embrace that never ceased to comfort them before when they cried. It did little to ease Mirabel’s wails this time.

A single tear fell down Isabela’s cheek as well.

In the background, the weather started to change once again. The sky darkened and the wind began howling. 

The women broke apart, their gazes momentarily drawn up towards the sky. Or lack-there-of. All they could see was a cover of dark clouds. 

A droplet of water fell on Julieta’s forehead. 

“Let’s head back,” she decided. “Luisa bought Zuko time, but we should get to the Encanto in case we’re needed there.” In case Zuko needs us, was unsaid but all of them thought it.

The two sisters shared a look before following their mother to where their horses were tied to a sturdy tree branch by the reins. 

“I hope our little Fireflake is okay,” Mirabel mused as she got on top of her horse.

Already sitting atop her horse and holding the reins of Luisa's, Julieta could not help but smile at her youngest daughter, fondness in her eyes. Who'd knew Mirabel would give Zuko a nickname so quickly.

A very, very fitting nickname.

The woman's smile faltered a little at having remembered the exact reason as to why it was so fitting.

Isabela hummed as she mounted her own horse, before taking a sharp inhale and going completely still. 

After a few seconds, she asked Mirabel, “What did you call him?” 

Her hermana gave Isabela a confused look. "Fireflake," she answered. "Why?"

All of the sudden, Isabela felt as though a bucket worth of an ice cold water was splashed on her. She could feel her stomach bottom out. Or, on the contrary, it filled with lead. A nasty bile formed in her throat.

Her body started to tremble.

She could feel her mamá and hermana's eyes on her, looking at Isabela with palpable worry.

"Hija, what's wrong?" her mother asked urgently.

Isabela took a very deep but shaky breath.

Then, quietly, she spoke. "It was him." 

Mirabel was still looking very confused and worried, but Julieta just nodded her head.

"What do you mean, Isa?" Mirabel asked, her face pinched.

The eldest Madrigal granddaughter shuddered. 

"The flame," she elaborated, voice so quiet Mirabel could barely make sense of her sister's words over the wind. "It was Zuko. He... He burned mamí." 

Mirabel inhaled sharply.

Julieta sighed. 

As they started off towards the cracked mountain, Isabela's grip on the reins was so tight her knuckles turned white. 

She swallowed. "He called himself a... a firebender. I've never heard of such a person before." By the looks on their faces, neither has her mamá nor Mirabel. Isabela took another breath to calm her nerves. "He created a flame out of nothing." This alone was so mind-boggling Isabela could feel her head starting to ache. "He burned mamí," she repeated.

Mirabel gasped as she finally processed it as well. 

At the time, the only thing both girls could really focus on was Zuko's appearance. The way he looked too foreign to be from America. The armour he wore. The terrible state he was in. 

His scar and the wound on his calf.

Only now it slammed down on Mirabel and Isabela with full force that Zuko... had a gift. 

He could control fire.

That boy had the power of fire! 

How!?

Julieta gave Isabela a look of sadness but there was something hard about it.

"He was scared," she reminded her daughter.

Mirabel scoffed. "More like utterly terrified," she corrected.

Isabela breathed in and out, before addressing her mamá. "I know he was," she told her. "I am not saying he did it on purpose or anything, but... Just who or what is he?"

Julieta furrowed her eyebrows.

"Mamá," Isabela pressed on in a very shaky voice. "He has a gift!" 

By how genuinely frightened Zuko was when he assumed they would kill him for simply being a firebender (Julieta still wasn't certain what exactly a firebender was, besides an understanding that such a person had an ability of controlling fire), Julieta was not convinced that it was a gift.

At least, Zuko did not seem to consider it a gift.

More like a curse.

A reason to be wary and frightened of others.

Julieta shuddered. Something about it felt very off. She had so many questions. 

Where exactly has Zuko come from?

What happened to him? 

How did he end up on that riverbank?

How was he able to control fire? 

Who hurt him?

Julieta had more burning questions than just these five. And she hoped that, once he was healed and less wary of them, Zuko was willing to eventually give answers. 

Mirabel's trembling voice pulled the woman out of her thoughts. 

"How is it possible?" she whispered in awe.

An excellent question. 

How was it possible? 

Was there a family like them somewhere on the other side of the world? 

Julieta had no idea.

Her mamá might, though.

The only thing Julieta Madrigal was really sure of at the moment was that they needed to get to the Encanto fast.

Lightning tore the sky in a half.

The storm was coming.

Pepa was in a distress.

Something must have happened. Something must be wrong.

Before she knew, Julieta was screaming "Hiyah!" and galloping towards the cracked mountain, her heart drumming in her chest. Isabela and Mirabel were right behind her.

And Julieta was praying.

Luisa... Zuko... Hang on! Be okay! Be safe! 

Papá, please, keep my daughter and that poor boy safe! 

The riverbank soon disappeared behind the trees and bushes.

Chapter Text

Luisa kept vigil outside the room where Zuko was currently being treated by Señor Gonzales, her heart racing one mile per second and shaking all over from both stress and building panic. Now that the boy's life was no longer in her hands, all that had happened between tio Bruno's arrival, and the following announcement at the breakfast, and her very much life threatening stunt was crashing down on her with doubled force.

It felt somewhat ironic, Luisa couldn't help but think, just how much she found herself caring for that little boy. How much her madre and hermanas cared as well. 

They hardly knew Zuko and even that seemed like a huge exaggeration.

What did they know exactly? 

Aside from his name and how he was obviously from somewhere outside the Encanto, and frankly a foreigner to Columbia, if not all of America, as well as a victim of very severe abuse, traumatised and terrified of loud noises such as those made by lightning, and a person gifted with the power to conjure fire from nothing, they knew not a single thing about Zuko. And what they did know so far about him was just causing a mountain of thousands questions appear in Luisa's head. 

Where was he from? 

Was he from one of distant countries in the East? If so, how did he end up on the outskirts of the Encanto?

And, if he really was a foreigner, how come he spoke the same language as them? Luisa could understand each and every word Zuko had managed to utter while still conscious, back near the riverbank of Abuelo Pedro's death, and he obviously understood her mamá. How?

How did the end up here?

Why was he wearing armour when they found him?

Where had Zuko's horrible wounds come from? Who inflicted them upon that little child?

And then, dread freezing blood in her veins, another awful question popped up in the back of her head.

Considering how Zuko could create flames at will and out of thin air, was there any possibility he had burned himself by mere accident?!

Luisa dismissed that awful thought almost instantly, but any alternate story she came up with in her head wasn't better at all.

Zuko couldn't have burned himself. That wouldn't explain why he was so fearful of strangers or why he thought that him simply being a firebender, as he had called himself, indicated likelyhood of said strangers murdering him on spot and in cold blood for that alone.

Luisa sighed heavily, her head slumped back against the wall.

Questions. So many questions.

And so very little answers to them.

Luisa was frankly developing quite the headache over this.

But no mere headache, let alone one caused by too much thinking, could compare to the throbbing pain in the remains of her shattered heart at the memory burnt within her mind.

The memory of this little boy's terror and tears, and screams of pain and sobs of agony, as he bled in Luisa's mamá's arms, the wound on his face likely adding to his misery.

Luisa crushed the urge to cuss some very foul words and just growled in frustration, plus some other negative emotions she couldn't quite define.

Rage. Sadness. Maybe sorrow. Fright. 

She was definitely getting more and more anxious as minutes passed. Logically she knew it was only several minutes since she all but barged in to Señor Gonzales' house, nearly breaking the door in the process, babbling nonsense and demanding he helps the bleeding mess of a child, limp and lifeless looking in her arms. Thankfully, the elderly doctor needed just one glance at Zuko to immediately start treating him, no questions asked. 

God bless that man! 

So, Luisa carried Zuko to another room, where she put the boy on the operating table Señor Gonzales had told her to lay down the child on, and then she was bid to wait outside as to not get in the man's way but to be close by and vigil, in case her assistance would be needed after all.

And she sat there and waited, praying, until a wave of people arrived at Señor Gonzales' house without preamble and Luisa looked up to see her family.

Abuela Alma entered the room first, followed by Luisa's papá, as well as tia Pepa and tio Félix, with a distressed looking Camilo in tow, Dolores and Mariano right behind him.

Tio Bruno went in last, a subdued Antonio in his arms.

All of them sported looks of varying kinds of concern and urgency, including Dolores' fiance, which obviously meant she had filled him in on all that occurred. There was also a stormy cloud hanging ominously above Pepa's head.

"Lu!" Agustín exclaimed, dropping to his knees in front of his daughter, looking absolutely sick with worry, but also relieved to see Luisa in one piece. "What happened? Are you alright? Is everything okey? Did you find the boy? Where are your mamí and hermanas? And what..."

"Agustín," Alma said firmly, warning in her tone, interrupting her son-in-law's onslaught of questions. The man in question immediately ceased talking. 

Luisa sighed in relief.

For all she loved her father to death and unconditionally, the man could be a lot under stress. And he was obviously stressed right now.

And Luisa was stressed, too.

Tia Pepa as well, clearly, as her cloud was becoming bigger and heavier with rain that was likely soon to start falling. 

To be fair, all of the Madrigals were, without a question in Luisa's mind, worried and desperate for answers... which the hulking girl didn't feel like she had.

Her abuela broke Luisa out of her thoughts.

"Luisa, where are Julieta and your sisters?" the elderly woman asked, voice steady with only a note of desparation in it. "Tell me if they are alright, if you would."

It was nice to see Alma Madrigal be so obviously and genuinely worried about her family's wellfare with no conjunction to the Encanto's maintenance.

Really nice.

And so, Luisa obliged at once, nodding her head. "They are alright and unharmed," she assured her family, her statement directed at tia Pepa in particular. And tio Bruno, too, because his visible worry was clearly making the poor man sick and twitchy. Once the two of them and the others let out sighs of relief and became a little bit more relaxed, Luisa continued, "Mamá, Mirabel and Isabela are on their way back."

"How come you got here so much faster than them, though?" Agustín asked. 

"Did you get a headstart or something?" Camilo added.

Luisa quickly sent Dolores the look, wordlessly screaming, 'Don't tell them!', before her actual reply came. "Or something. I'll explain later," the hulking girl said, casting a pointed look at her grandmother.

Abuela hummed in silent agreement.

"And what about Zuko?" Dolores asked. Luisa wasn't even surprised they already knew his name.

Luisa's shoulders slumped. "I don't know," she said. "Señor Gonzales is taking care of him." After a pause, Luisa added in a hushed and shaky voice, "He was so hurt."

Antonio peeked from where his face was nuzzled in tio Bruno's ruana and Luisa was startled by her primo's teary gaze. "Hurt?" 

Tia Pepa's cloud darkened at the scared tone of her little Tonito's hushed vioce.

"How bad was it?" Camilo tentatively asked. 

Luisa scoffed. "Bad? If only it were just bad," she said, shaking her head. Helplessness and sorrow radiated from her in palpable waves, washing over everyone gathered, including Mariano.

Dolores' betrothed furrowed his eyebrows at Luisa's words. "What do you mean?" 

A strangled sound escaped Luisa's throat; Agustin put an arm around his daughter in a futile attempt to comfort her. "Zuko looked horrible! He was terrified and crying... and he has this enormous burn covering nearly half of his face, and there was rot oozing from it, and... and..." Luisa swallowed down a bile that nearly made its way out of her throat. "He thought we would kill him."

Pepa covered her mouth and began thundering, her eyes wide and glassy; Félix immediately rushed to soothe his distressed wife, but he was just as horrified. Everyone else looked heartbroken.

Antonio was sniffling. He didn't understand everything that was happening, but he realised it was terrible enough to make his family sad, so he was also sad.

Bruno rocked the little boy in his arms, humming quietly to his youngest sobrino's ear.

Camilo looked at Luisa with moisted and fearful eyes, suddenly pale beneath his tanned skin. "Why would he think so?" the shapeshifter choked out.

Instead of answering, Luisa gave Dolores a confused look. "You didn't tell them?"

Her prima shook her head. "No. I heard all that happened, but some of the things Zuko had said... made no sense... so, I guess, I was waiting for you to explain everything once you came back."

Luisa nodded at Dolores' reasoning. 

"Well," the second of Julieta's daughters began. "I don't really know how to explain it myself, to be completely honest. It's... a lot."

Agustín gave Luisa's shoulder a comforting squeeze. The girl sent her father a faint but honest and grateful smile, which he returned.

"Luisa. Why would Zuko think such a preposterous thing?" Abuela asked that question in such urgent, yet steady, voice. A silent, unspoken command. Luisa had no choice but to answer. 

Dolores gave her the look of encouragement.

"Because he..."Luisa paused for a moment. "Because he burned mamí... by accident though. He is, as he called himself, a firebender." Luisa locked her gaze with her grandmother, who was staring down at her with wide eyes. "Abuela, Zuko has a gift. He can create fire. Conjure it. Out of nothing." 

Alma gasped.

The silence that followed for the next couple of minutes was heavy and seemed to last eternity, as every single Madrigal present in the room processed what Luisa just told them, before tio Bruno stuttered, "W-W-What?"

Luisa inhaled and exhaled.

"Zuko has a gift," she repeated softly. "A gift of fire."

Abuela Alma dropped to the chair behind her.

Meanwhile, everyone else gathered in the room, except for Luisa and Dolores, simultaneously yelled, "WHAAAAAAT!!!"

The weather outside plummeted. 

Chapter Text

As the time passed, it very soon turned out that Luisa’s very unconventional arrival from the jungle (for which her family, with the obvious exception of Camilo, had some very heavy worded lectures in store for her as soon as Zuko was out of the doctor’s supervision; and they all knew Julieta was likely pondering all the ways she could punish Luisa to never repeat such a folly again in her lifetime, whereas Agustín straight out fainted after being told), and with an unconscious, bleeding boy in her arms, as well as the commotion in Señor Gonzales’ house caused by the Madrigals, drew the attention of the villagers.

One by one, they were coming by, asking questions.

Alma Madrigal took the liberty of answering them, to the best of her ability, but was rendered unable to properly inform the curiosity driven crowd of the situation in any informative way, shape or form, mainly due to her own lasting shock and confusion about… everything, in all honesty.

The elderly woman was now seventy-two. She liked to think she lived her life actively and productively, even if in a twisted and misguided way for the majority of it, and saw more than most others had ever seen. She raised three children, who had magical gifts of healing, foresight and weather manipulation from the age of five, and lived to see six grandchildren, most of whom also were given powers on their fifth birthdays - Mirabel being the sole exception.

And in all those years, Alma Madrigal had made innumerable amounts of terrible mistakes that she hadn’t even been aware she was making, instead assuming the worst of everything her Brunito did and then doing the same with Mirabel. She was blinded to her family’s mountain of struggles and to their pain, and ultimately it cost them their house, but - more importantly - it cost them so many years’ worth of what could have been a wondrous and joyous life. Instead, she allowed the community to take advantage of her little ones and their little ones, and nearly lost them when the camel’s back was broken.

Thankfully, the god saw Alma worthy of being given the second chance, which the woman took.

It couldn’t be so without Mirabel - wonderful, kind hearted, special Mirabel (Alma still couldn’t fathom how she had ever believed this incredible young woman to be the cause of the Miracle’s demise, when she was literally the key to its salvation!), but Alma also liked to think she herself had managed to win her family’s trust and affection back by working hard to change her mindset and let go of everything she had stood for that was wrong for decades.

And so, yes, Alma Madrigal saw many things in her lifetime, had lots of regrets, but she had just as much to be thankful for and proud of, and this morning it all seemed to be heading in one way only: forward and better than ever before.

However, even her Bruno, it seemed, could not foresee what this day that had begun so tranquilly and unsuspiciously would bring. In an eye’s blink, everything went from tranquil and unsuspicious to heart shattering and downright shocking, from the appearance of the new magical door to this moment, in which Julieta and her two other daughters have finally returned and were in the process of loudly berating Luisa for her foolishness.

Zuko was still being treated by Señor Gonzales.

Alma had yet to properly decide what feelings did she harbour about the boy her hija and nietas brought to the Encanto and seemed to be so fond of. 

Firebender, rang loudly in her mind.

A gift of fire, Luisa had said. 

A foreign boy, grievously hurt and on the brink of death, laying alone and frightened exactly where Alma’s husband was murdered decades ago, armoured and bleeding out, before her daughter and granddaughters found him and took him to safety. A boy who, as Julieta reluctantly revealed to had learned firsthand, could conjure fire out of thin air and the eldest of Madrigal triplets, had she not had a supply of healing food on her, would have a mighty burn on her elbow to prove it.

Alma was aghast. 

But not more than she was fascinated.

And she was also terrified.

Never in her life had she ever wondered if her family were not the only people on Earth gifted magic by the god, but clearly she should have. 

Alma was not so ignorant, not anymore at least, to turn on somebody like that in an instant, and definitely not when it was just a child, and she certainly didn’t lack imagination to come up with many ways a wielder of fire could aid the Encanto - an ability she had after years of thinking just that and only that on a daily basis, about her family and their gifts - and it wasn’t like Alma couldn’t fathom how unimaginably great of a burden and responsibility such a gift undoubtedly was. And, as it was in the hands of a little one, Alma Madrigal was both astounded and relieved the jungle wasn’t currently being consumed by flames. 

The woman had many questions in regards to this boy, his origin and his gift. Of course, times and places, so she would withhold them until Zuko was well enough and willing to tell them his story, which, now that it crossed Alma’s mind, brought up yet another issue that had her worried.

According to Julieta, Mirabel and Isabela, the boy was in a terrible shape when they had found him, both in body and spirit, and Luisa had plainly told them how he had thought they would kill him on sight for something as natural as a primal reaction of self defence to a stranger touching him out of the blue. And when Mirabel, with a breaking voice and trembling hands, quietly corrected that Zuko had actually begged them not to kill him, Alma both felt her heart shatter into pieces and was thrown back into her mind, working faster than it has in months, trying to come up with all possible reasons for a young child to even think such a preposterous thing, let alone assume it right away.

Of course, Alma didn’t imagine anybody with a magical gift would do well in the outside world, as the history of, for example, Christian priests or fanatics burning alive and later, here in America, hanging women they decided to be witches had shown many times over throughout centuries, and these poor souls had not even possessed any powers in the first place.

Magic was, apparently, granted to some individuals god deemed worthy of it, but to the vast majority of mankind it was just a phenomenon from fairytales.

Zuko would be right to hide his gift, but for him to think he would be killed on the spot for simply having it had Alma seriously considering the kind of environment this child had come from. Her mind did not paint the prettiest picture and it was only based on her speculations as well as experience.

Alma honestly dreaded to learn the story of this child's life, but on the other hand, it begged the question of whether or not he would even be willing to open up to them, total strangers, and the likelihood of the answer being positive was very slim, if not straight out nonexistent.

But, she supposed, time would tell.

They needed to wait and find out.

More time passed and before the Madrigals knew it, they had been crowding the waiting room of Señor Gonzales' house for hours. 

By three in the afternoon, there was still no word from behind the door of the doctor's operation room. Julieta was sitting in her chair, looking grief stricken and overwhelmed with guilt. Her hijas were huddling together in a similar state to their mother's. Agustín was fretting over his girls.

Pepa calmed down enough for the wheather to become somewhat normal again, but the cloud remained hanging above her head. Even Félix could not help her fully relax.

Dolores was hunched as though in pain, with hands over her ears and eyes tightly shut. Mariano wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the young woman was leaning against him.

Camilo was subdued and Antonio fell asleep in Bruno's lap, snoring quietly as his tio rocked him lightly.

As for Bruno, he was also looking worried and, if he didn't have an armful of his youngest sobrino, he would likely be fretting over Julieta and her daughters along with Agustin or mumbling his old mantra of knocking on wood and throwing handful of sugar and salt for good measure.

The situation was obviously taking a toll on all of them, which the Madrigal matriarch was finding quite interesting, if not strange, and wondering whether or not it was normal to worry so much about someone they didn't even know. What was plainly clear was how Julieta and all three of her daughters were basically imprinted in that boy.

If the situation wasn't as dire, Alma would have found it astonishingly funny. 

Alma had long since banished the villagers from Señor Gonzales' house, leaving them with hopefully sufficient answers to their questions.

The boy's name is Zuko, she informed some.

Yes, he is, in fact, from the outside of the Encanto, she responded to others.

Dolores heard him this morning, she clarified.

Luisa brought him here, there was no point in hiding it.

He was found by Julieta, Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel by the river where my Pedro died, she forced herself to say.

No, he does not pose any threat to our community, because Alma was fairly sure he didn't.

It is just a child, she highlighted.

He was hurt and barely conscious, she added.

And that was it.

All that was left for the Madrigals to do was to wait for Señor Gonzales to emerge from his workplace and inform them of Zuko's condition, and hope that the worst had passed, for the sake of that poor boy.

And so, they waited.

And they continued to wait, and wait, and wait, in a nearly suffocating tension, until five in the afternoon. 

Abruptly and very loudly, Camilo's stomach reminded the Madrigals of its existence, breaking the heavy silence. The teenager blushed, but it didn't stop him from bluntly announcing "I'm hungry!" 

That, if nothing else, lifted their spirits a little bit.

On a better day the reaction might have been stronger. Pepa and Félix would probably be either doubled over, heaving laughter, or sitting with their heads thrown back, and everyone else would be in similar states. They still laughed at Camilo's antics, but the difference between their usual reactions and now was evident.

Antonio shifted in Bruno's arms, but didn't wake up.

Alma chuckled. "Right. I suppose it's dinner time already," she said. Clearing her throat, the elderly woman drew the attention of her family. "Not much point for all of us to dwell here. We are all stressed and frankly, it won't do us any good remaining here, stressing and fretting, on an empty stomach."

Some hummed in agreement.

Others didn't.

"We can't leave, mamá," Julieta argued. Her voice was strained and weary, and pleading. "Señor Gonzales might be done any minute! What if he has news for us about Zuko's condition and we won't be here, and..."

Alma decided to cut in before her daughter could get even more worked up. "Peace, Julieta," she told her, voice perfectly stoic, hand raised as to hush her. The woman complied, so Alma continued, "We won't leave all at one. We're going to split into two groups, one of which will remain here, while the other will go back to Casita to eat," she patiently explained. 

Having stood up from her seat, Pepa nodded at her mother in approval. "I think it's a good idea." She then turned towards her husband and children. "We're going to be in the first group that goes to eat. Mariano, you too." Pepa met Bruno's gaze with a stern look of her own. "You're going with us, Bruno."

The man in question spluttered. "Wha-Why? Who made you the boss?" 

Pepa crossed her arms, levelling her hermano with a look that radiated I-am-considering-carrying-you-out-of-here-and-absolutely-will-if-you-don't-yield energy.

Bruno sighed, resigned. "Fine, fine. I will go with you." 

Pepa smirked. "That's what I thought." Bruno gave in to the childish temptation and stuck out his tongue at Pepa, who took advantage of her younger hijo sleeping and flicked a finger at him, grinning widely, eyes sparkling.

Alma shook her head in resignation at her two children, while Julieta mumbled something quietly behind her back. Although the woman didn't catch that, by a disapproving look plastered on her eldest hija's face and a spark of amusement in Dolores' eyes, she guessed it was some sort of a comment about Bruno and Pepa's behaviour.

Honestly. 

Good god, grant Alma Madrigal strength to deal with her children.

Given the right opportunity and the three of them combined could be ten times the menace Camilo was on his worst-best days and, unlike said shapeshifter, they were so without even trying.

To this day, no one could convince Alma that most of her grey hairs didn't come from all the times her son and daughters had done something stupid.

And another one was no doubt making its appearance somewhere among her many grey hairs as of right now, immediately after a hushed voice whispered, "Mamí, that was rude."

All eyes sharply turned in Antonio's direction, who was now awake and looking at Pepa with the cutest accusatory glare a seven-year-old could muster. 

Bruno and Pepa both yelped in surprise, and were momentarily hushed by their madre and everyone else in the room.

Pepa leaned toward her youngest hijo with the largest fake smile she could manage. "What was rude, Tonito?" The woman decided to play dumb, hoping the boy didn't really see that hand gesture...

...And was unpleasantly proven wrong. "This." Antonio raised his hand, imitating the crude gesture, his middle finger pointed right at the gaping Pepa.

The woman's fake smile remained, but one of her eyes twitched. Félix suddenly got into a coughing fit, hiding his laughter, caused by the hilarity of the situation. Pepa turned to glare at him, a cloud reappearing above her. 

Félix pulled her against him and kissed her cheek. “Pepi, amore, I wasn’t laughing at you. How could I ever laugh at my marvelous, beautiful, gorgeous and brilliant hurricane of a wife? Ah! The travesty!” The man cupped her hands and plastered a chaste kiss on the back of each one, making a rainbow appear above a blushing Pepa, while both Camilo and Antonio gaggled. Dolores cooed at the sight, Mariano averted his eyes, and everyone else just sighed in exhasperation.

Of course, even merciful god couldn’t make Félix Madrigal cease his antics, “Mi amore,” the said man swooned at  successfully placated Pepa. “Mi amore is the most beautiful creature under the stars, that brightens even the darkest corners of this alley and shines upon…”

“Enough!” Alma hissed in annoyance, glaring at her son-in-law. “This is hardly the time and place for your lewd behaviour! Have some discretion!” At least both Pepa and Félix had enough decency to look apologetic. Camilo and Dolores sniggered at their parents being scolded like little children, while Antonio yawned and snuggled closer to Bruno. 

“I’m hungry,” the seven-year-old mumbled. 

"You and me both, hermano bebe," Camilo said, stroking his rumbling stomach with a comically pitiful expression.

Alma nodded. “Right.” She looked towards Pepa. “Shoo! Now. Off you go. And don’t come back until you’ve had a good meal. You two are acting like hopelessly enamoured teenagers with empty stomachs, and I won’t stand for such behaviour in a clinic.” The last part was directed specifically at Pepa and Félix, who both just grinned at her in response, then and each other, and then left the waiting room with Dolores and Mariano right behind them, walking behind them hand-in-hand. Camilo followed, as did Bruno, carrying still a little sleepy Antonio.

Alma sighed and turned to face Julieta.

“Hija…” The woman was interrupted before she even had a chance to properly voice what she had to say.  

Julieta had a defiant look in her eyes, burning with determination and absolute readiness to fight her madre on it. “I’m not going! I’m not.” That was final.

Alma wasn’t about to argue with her daughter about such a thing in a clinic. It was obvious how much Julieta was worried about the boy and Alma respected that, and so her only answer was simple, “I know.” 

“Thank you for understanding, mamí,” Julieta murmured. Agustín walked up to his wife and lightly nudged her. She, in turn, threw her arms around his neck and let him hold her as she trembled and breathed. 

When Alma directed her gaze at her nietas, all three of them were standing tall and levelling her with the same, if not even more fierce, looks of defiance as their mother. Not that Alma had any intention of telling them to go, but if she did, no doubt she would meet a resistance unlike any other she faced. 

“I’m staying!” Isabela growled, openly glaring at Alma with a look that plainly stated ‘I dare you to say otherwise!’. Her tone promised violence, were she to be challenged in her claim. 

“So am I,” Mirabel said in a similar voice.

“Me too,” Luisa added, sounding cold and equally resolute to her sisters, but not nearly as hostile. 

“Girls,” Julieta warned from where she was enveloped in her husband’s embrace. 

Alma huffed, sitting down. “No need for such a tone,” she commented. “We decided on splitting into groups for a reason. The one that was supposed to go and eat already went. You three are all in the group that stays here.”

After that, the uncomfortable silence fell on the room once again.  

Chapter Text

Another few hours have passed. 

By nightfall there was still no word from Señor Gonzales.

After Pepa and her group returned from dinner, Alma tried to persuade Julieta and her daughters to go and eat something, but they refused to move and arguing with them quickly proved futile. In the end, Alma and Agustín went on their own, while Pepa had Bruno, Camilo, Mariano and Felix bring the food to her stubborn triplet and sobrinas, and even then they barely touched anything. 

The family sat in the waiting room until sundown, not really talking any more, some twiddling their thumbs, others humming softly, only to be shushed harshly by very agitated Mirabel and Isabela, and the tension eventually became so tense it was nerve wracking. 

As much as they all wished to be there when the doctor have finally finished and came to announce news about Zuko’s condition, once the sun had gone down, Pepa decided it was a high time for Antonio and Bruno, who couldn’t be more annoyed at her for mothering him, to go to sleep. Alma agreed. 

And so, again, they split up. Pepa and Félix, along with Antonio, reluctant Camilo and sulking Bruno, went back to Casita to call it a night, while Dolores was allowed to stay. Mariano went home to check on his madre, but returned after fifteen minutes.

Neither Julieta nor any of her hijas moved from their seats for hours on end and, as much as Agustín tried lifting their spirits, nothing seemed to be working.

“Miraboo, perhaps you should go home. You look exhausted,” the man said to his youngest daughter, worry for her well-being in his voice. Indeed, Mirabel looked as though she was about to black out and fall onto the floor. 

The seventeen-year-old vigorously shook her head. “Not happening, papí.”

The man sighed. “I’m just worried about you, corazon.” Mirabel smiled at her father softly, reaching out to take his hand. 

Unfortunately, that smile didn’t last long on her face. “I’m worried about Zuko. It’s been a whole day. What’s taking Señor Gonzales so long?” Agustín was immensely alarmed to notice Mirabel’s eyes welling up. He quickly pulled his youngest hija into his arms to comfort her.

Isabela didn’t look much better, but her glassy eyes and slightly wobbling lips were less noticeable than Mirabel’s thanks to how angry her facial expression was. 

Luisa sniffled. “You don’t think he…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “You don’t think…” Even though she didn't say it, everyone knew what she meant. 

Every single one of them felt their heart shatter.

“Oh, Luisa,” Julieta cooed, moving to embrace her second hija, who immediately returned the hug, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder. 

“His heartbeat is faint but steady,” Dolores quietly chimed in. “He’s unconscious but alive. Zuko’s alive.” More than one person could breathe more easily after hearing her say that. 

Isabela released a long breath she was holding. “Dios mío, gracias!” she whispered, closing her eyes. She felt as though a heavy burden was suddenly lifted off her shoulders. 

Julieta felt the same. 

“That boy is a survivor, indeed,” a new voice cut in.

Suddenly, in a perfect synchronisation, all Madrigals shot up to their feet with racing hearts.

There stood Señor Gonzales, at last, having emerged from his workplace when they weren’t looking. The elderly man was smiling at them faintly, but it was a sad smile, and his eyes were reflecting exhaustion and pain. He looked worn out. Exhausted, even.

All at once, Julieta and all three of her daughters were tripping over each other with their urgently asked questions.

“How is Zuko!?”

“Is Zuko alright?”

“What took you so long!?”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Can we see him?”

“Will he…”

“Enough!” Alma hissed, stepping forward. She levelled all four of them with an icy cold glare of disapproval. “In order to listen to what Señor Gonzales has to say, you need to let him actually speak.” 

Julieta and Luisa immediately looked bashful and apologetic.

“Sorry,” Mirabled mumbled, fiddling with her hands. 

Isabela crossed her arms and stared at the doctor in angry anticipation. She didn’t need to say: ‘Get on with it already’, for the man to hear the words. 

He chuckled, albeit with no humour whatsoever. “That Zuko really is one lucky fellow, if he has so many hearts beating for him. Good. Very good.” In slow and sluggish motion, the man moved to sit on a chair closest to him. “Good, good. At last. Good.” 

Alma closed her eyes in grief, immediately catching on to what the man in front of her was not saying out loud. The same couldn’t be said about her family or Mariano, who all looked confused. 

Julieta quietly asked, “Señor, what… what do you mean by that?”

Señor Gonzales sighed sadly, shaking his head. “Dear Julieta,” he started in a hushed tone. His hunched posture and how he was avoiding her eyes radiated guilt. “You and your siblings know better than most about the unfairness of life.”

As soon as he said it, Julieta sucked in a harsh breath, shocked and still confused.

“This village has treated you, the Madrigals, to whom we owe so much, very poorly, to put it lightly," the man continued. "We took you for granted and wronged you all.” His’s voice broke. “But whatever shortcomings we had, whatever mistakes we had made and any harm we had caused your family… This boy knows unfairness, but on a scale that not a single person in all of the Encanto could ever grasp. He experienced something that, in the physical aspect of it, only your Bruno and your Pepa might have got a real taste of.” He paused, then inhaled and exhaled. A short moment later, only one word left his mouth. “Suffering.”

"What?" Isabela whispered, all of the sudden looking very small.

Julieta looked sick, visibly shaking in her husband's arms, tears already starting to fall down her cheeks, and Mirabel was in a similar state, holding onto Luisa's hand so tight her knuckles went white. 

Dolores was leaning against Mariano, whose unusually somber face reflected deep concern for the Madrigals and the boy they were so worried about.

"What are you saying?" Agustín asked.

"That, wherever this boy comes from," Señor Gonzales answered mournfully. "Monsters surrounded him."

For a long stretch, nobody moved. Then, Julieta abruptly pulled away from Agustin's arms and ran into the room where Zuko was. Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel all looked like they wanted to follow their mother, but the sisters found themselves frozen to the floor, unable to move a single muscle, as though there was still something for them to hear from the doctor.

And after a moment, the man spoke up again. "I have removed the splinter from Zuko's calf," was the first thing he said. "Good thing you brought him to me when you did, Luisa, or he wouldn't be alive right now. He lost a great amount of blood. It will take weeks for his body to recover from that alone. Although I do not have means to perform blood transfusion here, I'm fairly positive that he's going to be alright. For now."

"He bled very heavily," Isabela whispered.

"Yes," Senor Gonzales agreed. "Anyway, his leg was pierced right through. His muscle was partially torn in the process, but no bodne was broken. I have stitched the wound. That will take months to heal, in the best case scenario. Perhaps sooner. Should he wake up, though, Julieta's food might do the trick." 

None of the Madrigals took comfort in his words. The clear implication in what he was not saying was ripping their hearts to shreds.

"You're saying that... You're saying that Zuko might still die." Mirabel tearfully voiced what everyone else have been thinking. She looked ready to burst into sobs.

Señor Gonzales didn't deny. "I have done everything I could, Mirabel, but I'm not a surgeon. I don't have the proper qualifications to operate people who sustained such grevious injuries."

Mirabel sniffled and looked down.

"He's in a deep slumber," Senor Gonzales pressed forward. "Understandable, considering what he went through. He must have been exhausted and I shudder to even imagine the pain he undoubtedly felt. I don't know how long it will take for him to wake up. Assuming he wakes up." Every word that left his mouth made Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel feel worse and worse. "And the fact that he is malnourished is another problem entirely. It will be detrimental to his recovery." 

Luisa swiped a hand across her face, bursting with guilt. She felt as though she failed. Again.

Mirabel was inaudibly weeping.

Tears were streaming down Isabela's face.

While Agustín, Dolores and Mariano rushed in to soothe the girls, Alma absorbed the horrible information, masking her own heartbreak at Zuko's fate. Now wasn't the time for breaking down.

There were still questions to be asked.

"Any other injuries?" Alma asked in a cold voice.

Earlier, Luisa mentioned a burn on his face.

Señor Gonzales nodded, his face anguished as he did so. "Unfortunately, yes." As Alma feared. "Zuko sustained an enormous three-degree burn on the left side of his face and he clearly did not receive any medical attention for that." The doctor paused. "It stretches from his eye further to the side of his scull." Another short moment of silence. "The wound was infected. Zuko is now sporting a very high fever because of that, which is yet another factor that is going to make his recovery more difficult." 

Alma felt her rapid heartbeat as she listened to the man's prognosis.

Whatever he was about to say next clearly wasn't going to be any better. "I can't be quite certain yet, however, seeing as how the wound covers his eye and ear, and judging by the severity of it, he might become partially blind and deaf on his left side. And, unless he consumes some of Julieta's healing food before the wound heals on its own, there is going to remain a scar." 

It was a terrible prognosis. Horrible.

Mirabel, Luisa and Isabela were all in tears, and even Alma couldn't help letting a single tear slip out of her eye. To hear a child, who has stumbled upon their heaven, was so hurt that he was still at risk of perishing from his injuries was absolutely awful. Heart shattering.

This poor boy.

Agustín, desperately trying and spectacularly failing at comforting his girls, had a mournful look plastered over his face. Unlike his wife and daughters, he didn't have a single interaction with Zuko yet, but seeing his beloved girls in so much pain over this boy's tragedy made Agustín want to weep from grief along with them. 

Dolores clung to Mariano. Both of them had glassy eyes.

From the other side of the door, Alma could hear a faint sound of her daughter crying.

Señor Gonzales sat in his chair, hunched and tense, not pulling his gaze away from the floor. He sighed heavily. "I said that Zuko must have been surrounded by monsters in his life." That drew the Madrigals' attention back to the doctor. "I said he had suffered." Pause. Slowly, he raised his head to meet Alma's eyes. "He has been severely abused." 

Dolores gasped. Mariano cursed.

An anguished sob shook the foundation of the hause as Julieta burst into tears, nearly giving Alma a heart attack. Agustín rushed into that room... only to release a cry of anguish as well.

Their daughters were shaking like leaves in the wind, but frozen to the floor, still unable to move.

There was a haunted look in Señor Gonzales' eyes. "I don't know what godly force gave this child the strength to survive on his own as long as he did." As the man talked, his voice kept breaking at every second word. A tear slipped down his face.

All of the sudden, he appeared much older than he was.

"There are dozens upon dozens of small burn scars all over his belly and arms, and his tights are not any better. They look as though somebody was putting out cigarettes on his skin for years." Alma choked on a sob that threatened to escape her throat. She felt nauseous. All of her nietas were crying in earnest. "And his back... It looks as though somebody flogged him with fire. There are so many scars. Old scars. Whatever method his abuser had been using, he had permanently left marks of his cruelty on that boy." The doctor wiped a hand down his face. "Zuko was subjected to this sick treatment since an early childhood. Of that much I'm certain."

Alma felt her legs give out and she dropped to the chair that Mariano was quick to put behind her. 

"That's why I said that I was glad, as of this day, Zuko has more than one heart beating for him." For the first time since he sat down, Señor Gonzales looked each of Julieta's daughters directly in the eye, a faint but wobbly smile back on his face. "God blessed Zuko to find the borders of our Encanto. There is a possibility that you three and your madre are first people in that child's life to have shown him kindness. Your affection might just be what he needs to keep fighting." 

Isabela sobbed. Luisa bawled. Mirabel wailed. The spell broke and all three of them rushed to join their parents at Zuko's side. They entered the room already knowing what they will see, but nothing could prepare them for the horrid image they immediately had their eyes on.

Zuko lay on an uncomfortable looking mattress, instead of the operating table, stripped out of his armour. Without it, he was even smaller than they originally thought. His skin was deathly white and, just as Señor Gonzales said, covered in tiny burn scars. His belly. His arms. And there was more, apparently, beneath the thin brownish trousers he had on. But not a single stain of blood in sight.

His injured calf was in a makeshift cast.

At each side of the bed, Agustín and Julieta were sitting. Julieta was gently holding Zuko's hands in both of hers, while Agustín stroked his shaved head. Both of them looked griefstricken and enraged. Tears were still streaming down Julieta's face.

Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel could sympathise. 

The sight of Zuko looking so small and on the brink of death was horrifying enough and absolutely heartbreaking, but hot waves of white fury washed over each of three sister as they continued to stare at the tiny boy.

Only one thing was on each girl's mind right now.

If they ever saw the bastard responsible for Zuko's current state, they were going to rip that person to shreds, but not until tha monster begged to be put out of its misery. Together.

Meanwhile, also thinking in a complete synch, Julieta and Agustín exchanged knowing glances, having made their decision.

If Zuko survived, they were never letting him out of their sight. 

Chapter Text

Señor Gonzales kept Zuko under supervision for two more days, wanting to make certain that the boy was stable and everything was in order. The Madrigals of Julieta's brunch remained there with him, keeping nearly constant vigil over the unconscious boy the entire time, while Alma and the others would come and go.

A horrible storm raged above the Encanto after Pepa saw the state Zuko was in and not even Félix could lift her mood, not that he himself wasn't absolutely devastated at the sight of dozens upon dozens of burn scars on the boy's body, especially after hearing the same horrible prognosis, which just made them both get lost in whirlwind of hot white fury and excruciating sorrow. Camilo reacted pretty much the same, while Bruno was rendered utterly speechless. Then, a glint of determination sparkled in his eyes and he went back to Casita, only to return an hour later, carrying a green tablet, which he immediately shoved into Julieta's hands.

The woman broke into harsh sobs, this time out of weightlifting relief, at the sight that greeted her. There was an image of her side of the family, along with an alive Zuko, together on a meadow, having a picnic, enjoying a sunny day on a hill with an exquisite view of the Encanto village. 

Holding the tablet close in one hand, Julieta jumped to squeeze Bruno into a hug with her free one, never having been so thanful to her hermano before in their life, except for the time when she found out the exact reason for his sudden disappearance, after Mirabel's failed Gift Ceremony, twelve years ago.

When they pulled away from each other's arms after a few minutes, Bruno grinned at Julieta. "He will survive this," he told her. "Things may seem hopeless now, but it will turn out fine in the end." The woman could only smile back at him, her lips wobbling with more supressed sobs. It's been a long time, since Julieta had any reason to bawl her eyes out due to happiness, instead of sorrow. 

Thanks to her brother, she regained hope. After all, Bruno's visions always came true.

Agustín and her hijas, - their spirits somewhat uplifted at the sight of Julieta's much happier expression - have all went to freshen up, so they weren't there when Bruno gave her the vision and the first thing they saw, upon entering the room, was Julieta holding a green tabled, which they momentarily knew to be their resident seer's new prophecy. 

Their hearts racing, they all but bolted to her side, subconsciously dreading of what they might see, yet desperate to know the future that Bruno foresaw. 

While Agustín froze at the beautiful image, hardly believing his eyes, Mirabel and Isabela have actually squealed and Luisa, just like Julieta, burst into tears of immense relief.

Zuko would live.

Suddenly, miraculously, the situation at hand didn't seem so hopeless anymore. Because it was Bruno's vision. And Bruno's vision were never wrong.

Zuko was going to live! 

And he was going to become a part of their family! 

Most importantly, though...

"I always wanted a hermanito," Mirabel revealed and was shocked when, simultaneously to her and in a perfect unison, Luisa and Isabela both said the same thing.

The sisters grinned at one another.

Their parents exchanged knowing looks.

Julieta smiled at his hijas, fondness in her now sparkling eyes. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves so far, my darlings. Not yet, anyway. Though, I admit... I used to dream of having four children when I was younger. Three girls and a boy." 

Agustín wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling Julieta close. "Mi vida, it seems your dream might yet come true." He put a kiss to the top of her head.

Julueta rested her head against his chest. "I hope so, Gus. I hope so." 

While their patents murmured words of comfort and whispered decarations of infinite love at one another, back and forth, suddenly giving tia Pepa and tio Félix a run for their money, as far as flirting was concerned, the sisters went to the other side of Zuko's bed. They sat on the floor, the green tablet in Luisa's hands, and cuddling close, they gazed at the most beautiful image they saw.

The image of their little family, having picnic on a meadow outside of their town, and Zuko was a part of it. In fact, he was sitting on a blanket with Julieta and Mirabel, seemingly engaging in an animated conversation, with Luisa and Isabela in the background, in the middle if either dancing or running, while Agustín was standing to the side on one leg, and...

Isabela frowned. Luisa squinted her eyes. Mirabel blinked.

As much as the tablet painted a 'slice of life' picture, the girls could see their gifts being included in the scene as well. There were Isabela's vines and flowers in the picture, and Luisa was lifting a heavy looking log for some reason. The food in the basket was obviously their mother's.

But that's not what caught their attention.

What did, were five strange looking creatures accompanying them. One, nuzzling against Zuko on the blanket. Other two, curled up together in Mirabel's lap. The fourth one seemed to have wrapped itself around Agustín's leg as he looked to be trying to shake the creature off of his leg, albeit with a playful smile. And the last one was sitting on Isabela's shoulder. Their noticeably small bodies were slim and scaly, similar to snakes', but they had snouts instead of muzzles and tiny horns growing out of their heads. Not to mention...

"Are those... wings?" Mirabel pointed to each of the creatures.

"I... think so?" Isabela had no clue either.

"Any idea what those things are?" Luisa asked.

Neither sister had.

And so, for the next couple of minutes, they sat there in silence, warily regarding strange beings that, clearly, they would meet in the future, until Mirabel hastly rose to her feet and screamed, "The door!" 

Her parents and sisters nearly jumped out of their skin at her sudden outburst, while Zuko didn't even shift, still in a deep slumber.

"What in the world, Mirabel?" Julieta breathlessly asked.

Mirabel wasted no time to elaborate. "That new magical door!" She paused, then looked down at a bewildered looking Luisa. "Gimme!" She took the tablet out of her hands without waiting for permission and held it up for her parents to see. "Look at those creatures in the picture! Have any of you even seen winged snakes with horns? No? Neither did I! And I'll bet nobody else did! They are not normal. No, scratch that! They are otherwordly! "

While Mirabel was obviously trying to make some groundbreaking point, her parents and sister did not understand a word of her rant.

Mirabel groaned but wasn't yielding. "Think about it!" she urged them. "What a coincidence that, just as the new door appeared in our house, a child from the outside world stumbled upon the Encanto, severely hurt and in need of our help!" To her satisfaction, first sparks of understanding started to appear in her parents' and sister's eyes. So she went on to drive the point home. "Don't you see? It wasn't by chance. Zuko was supposed to get here! He is supposed to survive. He is supposed to become one of us! The Madrigals!" She briefly poused for a breath."He is supposed to get a gift! These creatures, whatever they might be, are going to be his gift!" 

With these words said, Mirabel watched her parents and her sister absorb the new piece of information. 

"Mirabel," the girl heared her abuela utter. 

She turned around to see Alma Madrigal, along with Bruno in tow, standing in the doorway, both of them gaping at her like fish. 

Mirabel walked up to her grandmother and took her trembling hands in her steady ones, and with a soft smile she said, "Family is more than blood." 

Two days later, Luisa carried Zuko to Casita.

"I can't imagine anyone better to look after that boy," Señor Gonzales said after Alma had informed him of Agustín and Julieta's decision to become Zuko's guardians. The elderly man looked happy, in fact, at such a turn of events. However, what he had said next was still lurking at the back of the Madrigal matriarch's head days after she had that conversation with the doctor "Just a word of warning, if I may, Alma. This won't be easy. Not for Julieta, not for Agustín. Not for Mirabel, Luisa or Isabela. Not for yourself. Not for anyone in your entire family." He paused. "Abuse is one of the sickest and cruelest forms of atrocities one could subject a child to... or anyone, really... and it is not an easy thing to heal from. Especially for a child. You saw the extent of abuse Zuko had clearly endured. His body is the proof of that, but the true damage lays in his mind. His heart. A body can recover. Wounds heal and some scars fade over time. But he will never forget."

Sadly, that was a valid point.

"Even if Zuko fully recovers, even if he's spared from living the rest of his life with a scar on his face, even if he retains his vision and hearing on his left side... Even if his leg fully recovers and even if the pain lessens over time... The memory of how he sustained every single one of those horrid injuries won't fade for years to come. And neither will habits. Fears. Assumptions. Twisted ideas of what he had been taught from a to be reality. All that was drilled into his mind from an early age. Small things that are of no meaning to us will be a huge deal for Zuko. Everything. All aspects of normal life. Regular meals, a warm and comfortable bed to sleep, complements, freedom to be a child, toys, hugs, laughter, trust, the privilege of going to school or a good night's sleep, fun. Even being treated decently might shock him. We don't know, of course, how exactly his abuser denied this child possibility of being one. Time will tell. Until then, tread carefully. Take small steps."

Alma Madrigal had lived in the outside world for twenty years. She was familiar with its cruelties. Even so, being reminded of that was never less painful.

But this was about Zuko and Señor Gonzales was right.

"Zuko will fear you. He won't trust you. It will take a long time for him to begin feeling safe with your family. Especially because his idea of what a family is might be completely different than, for example, Antonio's. He might take months or even years to slowly accept that what he was taught to perceive as daily normality is actually abuse. Not to mention you absolutely can not forcefully make him let go of whatever connection he still might have with his old life and people in it. He needs to let all of that go on his own. He might never do. Not completely, if at all. However, should Julieta and Agustín break through his shell and gain his trust, should he start feeling as part of your family, should he heal, then all heartache and anger and sadness, every setback, every argument, every temper tantrum or halfhearted insult, panic attacks and hard days... All of that will end up having been worth it. And something tells me that this boy, Zuko, is going to be more than worth to fight for." 

Alma retold these words to her daughter and son-in-law, but she needn't to. Julieta and Agustín were resolute in their decision, while fully prepared to face and accept Zuko's rejection. 

Mirabel, Luisa and Isabela were another matter entirely. The three of them were completely and irreversibly absorbed in the new prospect of having a hermanito and Alma could not decide on whether it was heartwarming or heartbreaking to witness. Then she decided. Heartwarming, should Zuko accept them as his guardians and, perhaps one day, a family. Heartbreaking, if he rejects them.

Which he very likely would. At least in the beginning. After all, most of what they have gathered so far about Zuko's past were only speculations based on his horrific injuries. Perhaps there was someone out there, frantically looking for Zuko, worried sick about the boy. On the other hand, he might have escaped a kidnapper or a slaver, and gained his injuries in a fight for freedom. 

But that did not explain his armour.

Alma shook off the matter for now. Whatever dark past Zuko had, the Madrigals would not know it, unless he himself told them about it. Maybe he had a family, waiting for their lost treasure of a child to return home, or maybe not. Maybe he was an orphan, whom the world has dealt with a terrible hand.

Nevertheless, Bruno's vision was very clear. Zuko would become a part of their family.

In other words, somehow, they would get there.

Eventually.

Unfortunately, they had a very long way to go. So many difficult conversations to have, certain plans and accommodations to start making. 

After all, even if her nietas and hija were getting excited for nothing, it wasn't like they were going to allow Zuko to return to the wild in the state he was in. 

At least until he recovered, the Madrigals were going to be responsible for him.

What came after, they just had to find out.

And then there was still the matter of Zuko's... ability... But that was an issue to tackle on another day, when it mattered. What was truly important was staying in the present.

Especially because the poor boy had yet to wake up.

Since only Zuko could open the magical door to his room in Casita, and he remained unconscious, plus Mirabel very adamantly objected to an idea of putting him in the nursery for some reason, he was going to be given Julieta and Agustín's bed. It was big enough for two people, of course, and they made an arrangement that Julieta was going to be there with him at nights, just in case, while Agustín would bunk with Bruno. 

And that was it.

Over the following week, nothing changed at the Casa Madrigal.

Señor Gonzales kept coming daily to monitor his condition for any changes. Agustín and Julieta helped redressing his wounds and keeping him clean. Mirabel, Luisa and Isabela all but refused to stay away from Zuko for longer than everal minutes, most of the time fawning over the child and talking to him, telling him jokes and stories, in hopes he could hear them. 

The rest of the Madrigal family were also accepting of Julieta and Agustín's choice, and would visit the boy in his temporary room as well. Some with enthusiasm, others with more reservation.

As for Camilo... "Is it just me or the boys in this family's siblinghoods are always younger than girls?" Bruno was the youngest of the triplets. Dolores was older than both Camilo and Antonio. If Zuko became his primo, Camilo felt for the poor fellow, as he was going to become the baby for Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel to dote on and coo at. What a life.

"I know, right?" Bruno wholeheartedly agreed. "What is up with that?"

Those who were present during that silly exchange just shook their heads and rolled their eyes, but Camilo had to have the final word on the subject. "Family trend. It's gotta be a family trend!" Despite having said those words with sullen face and sarcastic tone, it was plain as day that Camilo, too, loved Zuko already.

Antonio was the only one forbidden from visiting their new resident, at least for the time being, and the boy was, frankly, very unhappy about this, until Félix pulled him aside and gently explained to him the situation, while swiftly omitting most of gruesome details. And even though Antonio understood what his papá was trying to say, the boy remained inconsolable for not being able to meet his new primo. 

Pepa and Félix both found that infinitely endearing, as did Dolores.

Mariano kept coming to visit on a daily basis as well, asking about Zuko and how he was faring, but the answer he would get was, unfortunately, the same every time.

Fortnight after Dolores had heard him on Pedro Madrigal's riverbank, Zuko still hasn't woken up.

Another week later, the wound on his face began to heal.

Chapter Text

Thirty days have officially past since Luisa brought Zuko to the Encanto and he had yet to wake up. Mirabel, laying down in bed, as of recently in a much less optimistic spirit than she's been not even a month ago, was starting to become increasingly worried that Bruno's vision was not going to come true after all, for the first time in nearly five decades of an infailable foresight. 

Try as she might, Mirabel was losing hope and a part of her detested herself for it, but a horrible sense of dread was constantly at the back of her head, whispering ominously that the boy whom all of her family has come to care very deeply was going to die in his sleep.

Mirabel was not the only Madrigal in the house with those concerns which, in her opinion, was telling just how hopeless the situation has become over the past few weeks. 

Luisa and Isabela both tried to act the opposite, but Mirabel had come to know her elder sisters well enough over time following the destruction of Casita to know perfectly well that they were slowly but gradually cracking under the weigh of the perspective that Zuko could not, in fact, wake up.

The town didn't get much sunshine either, because Pepa - like every other adult in the house - was struggling with that very fear as well and the weather reflected it, on a daily basis for many days now.

Dolores, constantly tailed by an overbearing Mariano, which Mirabel had no idea how it didn't drive her cousin mad yet, refused to enter her room, much to everyone's confusion at first, as she has dedicated herself to listen to Zuko's heartbeat, as to make sure nothing changes and be the first to know if it does.

Camilo seemed to have lost a part of his usual spark. His pranks and jokes lessened. He still tried to lift everyone's spirits over the course of the last month, but his sunshiny attitude was now clouded with building negativity.

Julieta could hardly bring herself to leave Zuko's side and if she did, it was to dissapear in the kitchen for hours on end, cooking the same amounts of food she had two years ago. Agustín tried his best to be strong for her, just like Félix did for Pepa, but he was barely managing himself.

Bruno resumed his old mantra and kept throwing either salt or sugar over his shoulder. 

Antonio was being kept in dark about Zuko's condition, but even he knew that something was horribly wrong. 

Abuela maintained cold facade of indifference which, combined with the everlasting tension in the house and everybody's horrible moods, was the reason of most of the arguments that occurred within Casita in the last week alone.

Worst of all, Mirabel knew, none of it was for the reason that Bruno's vision about Zuko becoming a part of their family could be wrong, though it was a part of the issue.

It was about the knowledge that Zuko could still die.

Death, although a rare but not an unfathomable occurrence within the borders of the Encanto, was an unavoidable part of life. However, somebody's passing away in a natural turn of events was one thing, devastating but predictable. The death of a child, on the other hand, after a lifetime of abuse and god knows what other horrors was a different matter entirely.

Having had been sheltered for decades, up until thus far, the Encanto was not in the slightest prepared for such tragedy. 

Mirabel shook her head, eyes welling. "Get it together, Mira!" she hissed to herself angrily. "Zuko will be fine! He will be fine! He will be!"

Will he? 

He basically was in the coma for weeks on end, after just having had sustained traumatic injuries, lost a significant amount of weight and wasn't giving any signs of waking up soon.

Mirabel shook herself out of that train of thoughts. 

Of course Zuko will be fine. Any day now he was going to wake up. And he would recover. 

There was no other way it was going to go.

With that thought ending her internal monologue, Mirabel took a deep breath and started counting down from 5789, subtracting 27, and fell into sleep along the process.

When she opened her eyes a few hours later, the first thing she saw was Pedro Madrigal, a spitting image of the handsome man in his early twenties that Mirabel had once seen daily in the painting that used to hang on the wall by the staircase in the old Casita. He was acompanied by an elderly man in a red robe and with facial features suspiciously similar to Zuko's.

Both men, engrossed in a conversation, chatting among the roots of an enormous tree while sipping tea, were surrounded by creatures that looked as though ripped straight out of a fairy tale.

There was a sleeping red winged lizard curled up a dozen paces away. It was huge! It took Mirable a long minute of staring at the giant reptile to realise it looked just like the little ones from the tablet of Bruno's last vision. Except this one was a thousand times larger.

A walking vegetable with a smiling face waved cheerfully at Mirabel, who blinked owlishly at the otherwordly scene in front of her and decided she was still asleep. 

Chapter Text

"Abuelo Pedro," Mirabel uttered breathlessly.

The two men raised their heads to look at her. No sooner had Pedro Madrigal's eyes caught the sight of his youngest granddaughter, than he was running towards her as she stumbled forward, his face alight with a wide toothy grin, eyes sparkling.

They crashed into each other in an embrace that felt a little too tight and slightly too warm to be imaginary.

"Mirabel!" Abuelo's voice was hushed but dripping with awe and happiness. "I'm so glad you're here!" He pulled away gently, his hands remaining on Mirabel's shoulders as he looked her up and down. "Look at you, nieta!" Pedro exclaimed. "You're as beautiful as your mother! A spitting image! And your abuela, too!" 

While her grandfather continued to talk, stumbling over every other word, expressing his joy at finally meeting her, Mirabel felt utterly and completely baffled. To say the least.

And perhaps a bit scared as well.

Not that she was not, in fact, very happy at meeting her legendary hero of a grandfather, however, it begged the burning question of just how was that even possible!?

Did she die?

Mirabel sure prayed to god that was not the case.

"Pedro," the other man spoke with a harsh tone. "Do cease your babbling, if you will."

Pedro jumped back from Mirabel, back straight, shoulders tense, and the girl felt just a tiny bit intimidated as the other man approached her, looking down at her with furrowed eyebrows and tightly pursed lips. 

Mirabel gulped, feeling small under the shadow this man seemed to have cast over her frame.

"Uh, sir..." 

"Silence!" he barked. Mirabel jumped, her heart racing like it hadn't in quite a while. "What is this, Pedro? Does your family not educate their children on proper behaviour! Girl, where are your manners to not think for a second to introduce yourself?" 

The environment shook at the volume of the man's voice and Mirabel had a hard time quashing the most tempting idea of making a break for it. Regardless, she couldn't, even if she tried. Her legs felt like jelly. She was frozen in fear.

"Well?" the man bellowed. "Speak, girl!"

"Mi-Mi-Mi-Mirabel Ma-Ma-Madrig-gal!" she squeaked, looking at the man with wide eyes, utterly frightened.

"And is it not customary to bow before your elders? And avert your eyes!" Mirabel did not need to be told twice to look down at her feet. Her heart was hammering painfully in her chest, threatening to rip out and flee any second.

She squeezed her eyes shut and waited in terrified anticipation, all of her body shaking.

"And!" Pause. "Jump on one leg, mimicking herons." Mirabel sucked in a breath and stood on one leg, ready to fulfil the order...

...Only to freeze.

Slowly, she raised her head, as faint sounds of suppressed laughter fell on her ears. 

Grandfather Pedro and the man both were looking at her, their posture rigid, lips wobbling and eyes filling with mirth, struggling and failing to maintain composure.

Oh, Mirabel realised. Oh! 

In perfect unison, the two men doubled over, bursting into hysterical fit of laughter, their bodies shaking as they laughed.

Mirabel, while not particularly glad to have fallen for the prank, relaxed. For a few terrifying moments she was scared out of her mind.

The man was a good actor, she had to admit.

Camilo would have a field day with how he had pranked Mirabel. She would never live it down.

Good thing her joker of a primo wasn't here.

And abuelo Pedro, the sneaky joker abuela Alma had once described him to have been - to be, apparently - played his part perfectly.

"Forgive me, my dear!" The elderly man exclaimed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "I couldn't resist!"

Mirabel smiled. "It's alright." After a moment she added, "Joke's on me."

Grandfather Pedro came up to her again, putting an arm around her shoulders. "It is really good to see you, Mirabel." The blinding smile he gave her, the girl was more than happy to return with one of her own.

"You too, abuelo," she told him honestly. Within moments, though, her brows furrowed. "But," Mirabel paused, the expression on her face shifted from content to concern. "How is this possible? How am I here? Am I... dead?" She had to know.

Her grandfather gave Mirabel a fond smile, but it was the other man who answered. "You are not dead, Mirabel Madrigal." 

The relief washed over Mirabel in pleasantly cool waves, instantly calming down, though not fully.

There was still the question of 'how'?

The overgrown lizard shifted where it lay, still curled up, and Mirabel pointed to the creature. With a tentative voice she asked, "What is... that?" 

"Fang," Pedro was the one to answer. "He's a dragon."

Mirabel blinked. Then she blinked again. And again. And once more.

"A dragon," she repeated faintly, her mind immediately going back to the creatures - dragons! - from Bruno's vision. If that's how big they were going to grow...

Boy was abuela going to be mad! 

By the mischievous expression on Pedro's face, Mirabel knew exactly what he was thinking. And that her theory was correct. Pedro Madrigal was the one behind the gifts all along!

But that means...

"Five. Giant. Dragons." Oh boy. "Abuela will kill you," Mirabel informed Pedro.

The man shrugged. "Worth it."

Mirabel shook her head in awe, before returning her gaze to the elderly man. 

"My name is Roku," he introduced himself. "Avatar Roku of the Fire Nation." Mirabel's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

Fire Nation. Firebender.

Suddenly, the pieces in her head started to come together, forming a clearer picture.

"Welcome, Mirabel Madrigal, to the Spirit World." Roku gestured for her to approach, pointing to the giant root where he and Pedro were previously sitting and having tea. "Come sit. Join us for tea. We have much to discuss. And little time."