Chapter Text
Pepa Madrigal’s house gave Mirabel the chills the longer she gazed upon its door. It wasn’t decrepit, and was probably the most impressive looking house in this town next to that imitation of Casita. But it was foreign and unfamiliar and the mistress of the house even more terrifying.
How long, she thought, had it been since she had last come here? It couldn’t have been more than a few days, and yet, the Encanto felt like a faint memory already.
When the gate had quietly closed behind her, there were lingering doubts about whether she was even right in coming here. After all, what was to say that everything that transpired at night hadn’t been just that, a dream? She had just about turned back, before her aunt glance out the window and subject her to more strife when the miserable, world-weary faces of her family flashed before her, and before she knew it, she was by the door, pressing that strange button and wincing at the harsh sounds that came from it.
She did not know whether to be relieved or irritated when the door opened by a crack and Tío Félix peered out nervously.
“Maribel?” The door swung wide open, and his wary gaze was replaced by one of confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“Mirabel.” She gritted her teeth, and squinted in anticipation for the tall figure that should have surely appeared by now. “Where’s Tía?”
His eyes betrayed the lie before he had even opened his mouth. “Resting. She was up the entire night and busy with packing.”
“Well.” She said as she placed a foot in the doorway. “I need to talk to her. Privately.”
She didn’t give the chance for Félix to turn her away and he gaved her an annoyed look as she pushed past him inside the house.
The house was in a state of disarray, and random items lay helter-skelter by boxes as if there was confusion about what to pack and where. If Mirabel didn’t know any better, she would have thought that there was even some hesitation about leaving.
“There’s still a lot to be done.” She observed. “Will you be done all this by tomorrow, anyways?”
He ignored her question, and Mirabel said nothing more as he gestured for her to follow him. For a moment, they pass the staircase and she wondered whether he’d be taking her to Pepa’s room but he walked on and opened the door to a room in the corner of the house.
“Wait in her office.” He gestured inside. “She’ll be down in a moment. Don’t touch anything.”
His face was impassive as Mirabel walked by him, and he had turned away when Mirabel spoke up again.
“Tío Félix? Why did you marry her anyways?”
The confusion was back on his face and she thought that he would ignore her or reprimand her for having the audacity to ask such a personal question. Instead, she was surprised when he shrugged.
“It just felt right.”
The door shut behind her, and Mirabel raised her eyebrows at what had to be messiest room in this house. The books (which a brief examination showed to be just a collection of receipts and tax information about the town’s residents) were scattered all over the shelves, and some had even slipped down onto the ground.
However, the desk caught her interest immediately with all its papers scattered about and she deftly jumped over a pile of files to examine the secrets it held. She was immediately met with disappointment in the form of more official-looking documents, none of which were particularly relevant in regards to Pepa Madrigal or the Encanto. Still, she shifted through the papers in hopes of finding something and was rewarded for her efforts when she found a small yellow book buried within the papers.
The cover was worn and littered with creases and it hung limply in her hand, yellowed pages threatening to spill out. Mirabel looked towards the door, and then, assured by the silence, began to quickly flip through the pages.
Judging from how the first few entries seemingly revolved around Félix and mundane wedding preparations, the journal must have been from around the time Pepa got married. Nothing in those lovesick ramblings were remotely relevant as to why she was here, and feeling as if she had gone too far in her intruding, hurried to turn over those pages.
I can’t believe it. Isabela born on the exact date as she was back then. Even the name, no one had to suggest it—Julieta had barely given the baby a glance and decided on her name. I can hardly believe it. I’ll be holding Dolores in my arms soon enough.
Thumping from upstairs and Mirabel began to flip through the pages again as snippets of conversations could be heard through the open window.
“....Pepa, you don’t have to talk to her. Look, I’ll just tell her--”
“No.” Pepa sounded as if she had aged decades overnight. The sound of feet stumbling and the scraping of something masking Félix’s alarmed yelp.
“I’m alright. I’m alright.”
“Pepa, it’s fine. You haven’t been yourself for a wh- since last night. It’s the stress of the move, isn’t it? We can always--”
“No.” Pepa croaked. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll deal with her. I’ll deal with everything. I’ll make everything alright.”
As the conversation faded to incoherent murmurs and whispers, Mirabel frowned down at the pages. Not a single mention of Encanto or-
She’s here. Mirabel’s here.
Of course, Julieta had to be difficult as always and leave the rest of us in the dark about the baby (no wonder the excuses about not seeing us), but I can’t even stay mad at her for the fright she gave me because our Mirabel’s here.
Little Mirabel wouldn’t know it but the guilt we carried through the years.... we can finally make it up to her. To think that when I last saw her all those years ago, I had snapped at her and then she had disappeared into the woods never to be seen again.
Perhaps, my misgivings about this world were wrong. I should have listened when I was told that this was best for the family and our happiness. Now, there’s only Tonito left and our family...
….will finally be complete.
“We?” Mirabel muttered, and pushed away the emotion bubbling within her from the rest of Pepa’s words. Show any emotion now and Pepa would surely find it and devour her alive.
Footsteps approached from down the hall (How had Pepa regained her strength so fast?) and Mirabel had just about managed to push the little diary underneath the armrest of a cushioned chair when the door swung open and Pepa marched inside.
Her aunt still attempted to pull off that haughty look of hers, but with that unkempt braid and those sunken eyes, Mirabel thought she was staring into the face of a ghost instead. If it weren’t for that anger flaring in Pepa’s eyes, Mirabel would have said that the dream had broken her aunt instead.
She tried not to stare too long at her face, but Pepa must have noticed Mirabel’s look and she glared down at her as she pushed a few strands of hair inside her braid.
“Made yourself comfortable already as if it were your own home, I see.” Pepa gestured towards the occupied chair. “It’s bad enough I can’t sleep because of you last night and now I have to deal with you barging in as if I owe you explanations.”
“You’re not going to deny it?”
“Why would I do that? You clearly don’t seem to understand the situation either, and as bitter as I am, I’m not heartless either. I’ll tell you as much as I think you need to know and then you’ll leave me to pack to my heart’s content.”
“You’re still leaving? After all this?”
Pepa made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh. “What else am I supposed to do here? Run after you while you go around town hollering about your stories of magical gifts and a so-called paradise? I’ve done all I can here, and I deserve the rest.”
Mirabel’s nails dug into the spine of the leather-bound book and she stared down at her shoes as she spoke up again. “You could do more.”
“D-do more? What did you just say?”
“The family. Nobody is really happy in this twisted world of yours. The rest of the family might not realize it, but you know it. I know it. We were happier back there so why won’t you just help me bring it back?”
“Do more.” Pepa whispered to herself and Mirabel looked up to find her staring down at her with a strange, far-off expression in her face. “Do more, she says.”
Then, Pepa threw her head back and started to laugh. The sound was grating, and even if it was infused with that sharp, mocking tone of hers, Mirabel sensed some anger. Resentment, even.
“Funny you say that, Mirabel. My mother used to say that to all of us too. Mind you, never those words directly, but they were always implied. Even Julieta, she could do no wrong, but even she felt that pressure.” Pepa had an almost sad look as she continued. “Mama never said those words to us ever here. She’ll grumble and complain about us now but I never felt that burden of expectation from her.”
Pepa looked down at her coolly. “It was one of the few good things about this world.”
“Few?”
“Few.” Pepa repeated.
Mirabel reached out to grab Pepa’s hand, and as her fingers wrapped around Pepa’s wrist, Mirabel saw her aunt make an expression that she couldn’t quite pin down.
“That means you know this place isn’t good for us.” Mirabel whispered. “You have to tell me how to take us back so I can—”
Pepa pulled her hand away with a violent jerk and glared down at Mirabel.
“How many times have I told you? It’s gone. It’s not coming back. Stop chasing after fairy tales before it really messes your head and then, even I can’t do anything to help you.”
Mirabel nearly shot out of her seat but her fingers brushed against the diary and she clenched the armrest instead and glared up at Pepa.
“You call this helping? If you really wanted to help me, you’d tell me how I could fix this mess because I know you’re hiding something from me. There might not a cloud over your head now, Tía, but I know deep down you’re not telling me something.”
Pepa’s lips moved upward in a smile but Mirabel saw the anger flash in her eyes. “Look at little stuttering, Mirabel. Finally grew a tongue these past few days, hm? Maybe there’s not much left to teach you, after all.”
“What could you possibly teach that’s worthwhile?” Mirabel shouldn’t take the bait and let herself give in to the anger- angry words had what caused her to lose her home in the first place- but her grief from these past few days had warped into rage and her mind dealt with it the only way she knew best. “What have you even done these past fifty years that’s even worthwhile?”
“Nothing.” The word was spat out as if it were poison.
Mirabel was too stunned to speak.
“I’ve done nothing these past fifty years except think over and over about what a failure I am.” Pepa’s voice shook but the rage never left her. “When I’m not thinking about what a failure I am- no, the failure I’ve always been- I tried to make this town as safe as it could be. Me, and my siblings and the people we all chose to marry? We saw horrible things. Our parents saw and lived through worse.”
“That’s why....”
“That’s why we’re like this?” Pepa finished. “Maybe. You’ve seen your mother with the pantry and money? What, you thought she was like that for no reason?”
Pepa didn’t wait for Mirabel’s response.
“I told you about the famine and the plague. Both of them shook Julieta so hard...I wonder if some part of Juli remembers what she used to do deep down.”
“My Mama doesn’t know?”
“No.” Pepa said coldly. “You know. I know. There’s nobody else. And if you truly loved your mother, you’d be a good girl and stop giving her grief.”
You say all that, and yet your diary....
“Juli...” Pepa said wistfully. “My sister Juli really believed in the Encanto once. She really did. I used to tell my siblings about it. That was when I was a dumb child and prodding to see if they really didn’t remember or were just playing dumb.”
“So, they don’t remember?” Perhaps, if she asked enough times, Pepa would slip.
“What do you think?” Pepa replied coldly before continuing in that wistful tone. “They didn’t remember but that didn’t mean they hadn’t fallen in love with it. I....We.... I....sometimes, we’d try to bring it back.”
“But it didn’t come back.” Mirabel whispered. “We’re still here.”
“Back in that old town...before we got chased out.....there was a woman. A superstitious lady. Rumour had it that she dabbled in the witchcraft, but no one really knew the truth. We’d ask her about some rituals when she’d watch over us sometimes, and well.... when we came to live by the river...I got the idea to try some of them.”
There wasn’t even the slightest breeze but Pepa shuddered as she brought her arms close together. “The candle. The miracle had sprung from the candle. My parent’s marital candle. It was childish and stupid, but I missed home and my family so much that I thought if we lit it and made some wish it’d come back.”
“And that...”
“It went wrong.” Pepa said shortly. “My parents were upset to say the least, and between my parents’ anger and the whole mess we made, Juli decided she had enough of the Encanto. Naturally, I didn’t take it well.”
But she still believed, Mirabel thought as she remembered the letters, she believed for as long as she could.
“You didn’t stop though.” Mirabel said.
“No. That irked your mother.” Pepa muttered. “But when the famine came, and I saw everyone around me starve? I’d think of the how we were blessed with crops or how I could make it rain. I used to hate my cloud, especially towards the end, but I could only remember how much I used to help everyone when I would run over to the river and cry or pray.”
Tears had started to gather in Pepa’s eyes but she brought a hand to brush them away. Her voice never stopped cracking though. “When that plague came, and I thought that I would lose Bruno again, I was so scared. Everyone got mad at me when I’d disappear for hours but did they know that I’d run to the river and ask for our miracle back? I used to cry and beg and say that I’d give anything. But it...But it...”
“Tía...” Mirabel slowly got up from her seat, not caring that the book hiding within it was beginning to slip out. “Tía...I remember. I’m here. I know what you felt, no-- what you’re feeling right now. We can fix this.”
“Fix this?” Pepa said slowly.
“Yes. Fix this. So we can go back.”
“Go back...”
“Yes. Go back home.”
“Go back to where my father was dead? Where my brother was missing?”
Mirabel felt her heart sink.
“What part do you not understand?” Pepa hissed. “There’s no bringing it back. If you want to try, go ahead, but why don’t you understand that I’m trying to save from the pain of failing over and over again?”
Pepa reached down to grab her face. “Mirabel, this world is cruel, I can’t lie about that. We’re broken, Mirabel. I’ll admit it. But can you blame us? When we'd spend so long wondering whether we'd live to see another year that deep down, we shied from getting too close to each other because we were so scared of the pain. Your mother watched us wither away, your uncle looks behind him as if death is lurking within every corner, and I saw...I saw the worst about people.”
Pepa’s breath quickened, and Mirabel felt nauseous as the words slowly began to settle in.
Stop. Please stop.
“ We’re animals, Mirabel.” Pepa whispered. “Like wolves. But at least wolves don’t turn on their kin. Back in that old town, I used to see brother turn against brother. Fathers abandoning their children. Once, I saw a woman getting mugged in an alleyway. She was the caretaker of these children that she used to call her own,” Pepa’s gaze lingered on Mirabel before she continued. “And yet, she kept on throwing them in front of her as if they were nothing more than a shield.”
“You wouldn’t do it, Tía.” Mirabel said as the realization settled in. “You’re not like them, Tía. You’re good. You love your family--”
“How would you know about any of it? You’re just a lamb, so clueless about the world. An hour ago, you thought me the worst person alive.”
“And I’m sorry! I really am! But you were so different---”
“I couldn’t have survived in this world if I was the old me.”
“We can go back!” Mirabel’s voice began to shook and Pepa moved away from her immediately. “There has to be a way. There has to be something I can do, there’s a reason why I remember---”
“I wish you didn’t.”
“Please. I don’t want to stay here, Tía. I’m not like you. I can’t change. I don’t want to change. Or watch my family be miserable. Please, Tía. We have to try. What if you stayed?”
“What if you stopped crying like a child?”
Why was she so cold even after all of this? “Why are you like this, Tía? You used to be so brave and never back down. What are you so scared of?”
“Losing my family again.” Pepa said quietly. “Mirabel. Even if it were to come back...I’m tired. I’m scared. What if this twisted magic made us start all over again? I couldn’t lose my family another time. W-we may be broken, Mirabel but at least, we’re together.”
“If you cared so much, you wouldn’t leave.”
“But I do care. I care and love them so much that I can’t stand to watch them grow old and weak. I saw your face when you were out with your mother a few days ago. She was only sickly that day but you were scared. Think about me, Mirabel. If I’m far away, I can imagine them being young because otherwise, I don’t what to do if they were to...”
When Mirabel had first come to this world, she had thought her aunt was inhuman with how emotionless and cruel she was. For a moment, she had considered whether Pepa was the devil herself, like some of the feared whispers had suggested. And yet, hearing this ghost of a woman talk about her past life and her life in this world, Mirabel realized the truth about Pepa Madrigal.
Pepa Madrigal was a broken woman. So broken that she’d been reduced into clinging onto her broken family and deluding herself into thinking that it was for the better.
This wasn’t the aunt she knew. The aunt she knew was fearless and was quick to rage and rumble but she’d never meant harm to anyone. The aunt she knew loved her family, but she would have helped Mirabel once she knew that this world was hurting and scaring her.
“I am thinking about you, Tía” At those words, Pepa let out a sigh of relief and moved towards her, arms stretched wide.
Mirabel would bring her aunt back.
“That’s why I’m still not giving up on bringing it back.” Mirabel said. “There’s a way to bring back our entire family back into the Encanto. Even Abuelo. Even Tío Bruno. Even if you’ve given up, I’ll find a way.”
Pepa looked at her, shocked. And then as expected, that fire was back in her eyes.
“You can try and stop me.” Mirabel said as she got up. “But I’m not scared anymore. Not of you, at least. You can move away too but I’ll---”
The book slid out of the chair and slammed face open to the ground.
I used to make rainbows and sunlight would stream from my fingers. Sometimes, I long for it to come--
Pepa kicked away the diary and glared at the ground.
“Get out. I’m done with you.”
Mirabel didn’t sleep that night.
She stared out her window, and alternated between staring off into space and planning her next move.
It would have to be tomorrow-at Abuela's. That was the last day the entire family would be together. If she played her cards right, they could all be having dinner in the Encanto, even.
Mirabel knew Pepa probably wasn’t sleeping either. And she wondered whether her aunt was scheming to stop her or if she had given up and resigned herself to her fate.