Archive of Our Own

Round and round we go 

. 

 1. Alma ‘Abuela’ Madrigal. 

This ones foggy. Besides her most recent encounter, with her Mama finally apologizing for a lifetime of misguided judgment and discontent for her autism, Pepa can’t clearly remember a time where her Mama stayed by her side. 

It must be their somewhere… it must be. 

She just can’t remember. 

Alma remembers. 

It had been when she was 13. Her youngest daughter returning early from school on her brothers back. Knees skinned, and soaked to the bone. 

Before she could even question as to what had happened, Julieta was shoving past her, desperately trying to find a stray Arepa. 

Bruno’s legs trembled, but he refused to put Pepa down, even for a second. Keeping a protective grasp on her until Julieta returned. 

Almas face was one of deep concern, “Julieta what happened?!”

Her daughter paused, glancing back and forth between her mom and siblings nervously. Almost unsure, as if she didn’t know if she could relinquish that information or not. 

Her voice was stern, “Julieta, if your sister is injured I need to know.” 

“Just a few scraped knees,” she rushed to say, looking guilty before adding, “And maybe a few bruises. And her hands are a bit banged up but I swear that’s it-“

-“I won’t ask again,” fear was starting to build in Almas chest, but she refused to show it, for her children’s sake, “What happened?!”

Julieta was slowly rousing her slack sister, gently coaxing her to take a bite of a stray Arepa. 

“Just a little bite. Oh please Pepa just a little bite.”

Pepas thin brows creased, nodding slowly and mumbling something under her breath. 

Julieta was taking care of Pepa, both not in a state to answer. So Almas fiery gaze landed on Bruno. Her only son immediately trembling twice as hard. 

She tried to calm down after that, at least so she didn’t look as threatening, but just as serious. 

“Bruno, mi Brunito, tell me. My son”

He looks away painfully, before muttering something quietly.

“I can’t hear you, mi Cariño.”

“Someone played a really mean prank on Pepa,” Bruno whispered, “A really. Really mean prank.”

Alma was dumbfounded, surely all this commotion wouldn’t be for some little prank? Children jested from time to time, yes, but something this severe? It seemed unbelievable. 

Julieta had finally seemed to get Pepa to take a bite out of the Arepa, but the texture in her mouth seemed to jar her awake. Screeching slightly, and instinctively pushing back. 

Bruno wasn’t able to stop their fall, but did his best to make it a softer landing. 

Pepa wildly backpedaled. Back against the wall, she brought her knees to her chest and rocked vicariously back and forth. 

Julieta looked pain, rushing next to her. It seemed Pepa had spat out the bite in all the commotion, so she was once again coaxing, begging was more like it, for her sister to eat some food. 

Pepa was whimpering, making choked wheezy noises. One hand embedding into her bangs while the other tugged harshly at her braid. 

“C-clear sk-kies,” she coughed out hoarsely, “C-clear skies.”

Her siblings seemed to be at a loss, knowing what to do, but unsure on how to act in front of their mother. 

She turned to look at them, eyes ablaze, “I won’t say it again. What. Happened. To. Your. Sister. Rapido, I need to know how to help Pepa.”

Julieta motioned to Bruno to leave, who nodded understandingly. Shooting their catatonic sister a concerned glance. Who only got more erratic as time passed. 

“Julieta, Please,” Alma let a crack of vulnerability pass through, her heart squeezing painfully at the sight of her daughter, “Please just hurry and tell me.”

Julieta rushed closer, leaning in, and whispering the events in her ear. 

Almas brows rose rapidly, eyes practically popping out of her head at the horrors being recounted. 

She expected a few mean comments from youth, but this? Splashing her poor Pepa in water. Daring to insult her prepubescent body, and laughing once her garments were visible? They practically stripped her bare for an audience. 
It was something out of a horror show. 

“Julieta. Go to your room please.”

“B-but what about-“

-“Don’t worry,” she assured tensely, giving a meek smile, “I’ve got your sister. Thank you for telling me.”

Her eldest nodded, before scampering upstairs. 

Alma turned back to her distraught daughter, approaching cautiously and noting the abandoned Arepa on the floor. Picking it up slowly on her way. 

Casita always made sure to have spotless floors. So she wasn’t worried about contamination. 

“Pepa?” She called out lightly as she grew near, testing the waters. 

She had seen this type of behavior out of her before. It was typically looked down upon, as it was unnatural in a way. 
A girl her age shouldn’t scream and cry, thrashing around as if possessed. 

But right now, right now seemed to be a good exception if anything. And she was willing to budge her reprimanding just this once. 

Just this once. 

Carefully, in one fatal swoop, she sank to her knees and took Pepa into her arms. Instantly murmuring words of comfort and soothing. 

Pepa seemed confused by the touch, fighting it initially. 

“Shhh, mi hija, it’s just Mama. Shhh it’s ok. Your ok now.” 

Alma carefully rocked her daughter back and forth, reaching up to disentangle Pepas vice like grip on her hair. 

She frowned at the resistance met to the action, it wasn’t good how Pepa immediately reverted to these harmful habits to try and comfort herself. And wondered briefly where it stemmed from. 

Pepa didn’t want to let go of her hair, shrieking and fighting with all her tired body could manage. 

With no other viable option, she out muscled her daughter, pinning her arms flat to her chest, tucking her close in her lap. 

“Shhhh,” she hushed desperately, “Pepa your ok now. Your safe. Your home. Your at Casita. Those scoundrels are not near you anymore. Your safe.”

The panicked and desperate noises her daughter made all but broke her heart. Eyes a never ending stream of tears as she forcefully rocked back and forth. 

It took a while, but Alma eventually managed to calm down her petrified daughter. Who was now rendered to violent trembling in her body. 
Apparently through the whole thing she hadn’t noticed the rain cloud above them, pouring frigid rainwater, perfectly in tune with Pepas emotions.  

Worried she’d catch pneumonia, she called out for Casita to bring them a towel. In the meantime, she wanted to try and get Pepa to eat the abandoned Arepa. 

“Pepa, my sweet, can you eat this Arepa for me? Can you do that for Mami?”

Her lips were turning blue, but even still Pepa rapidly shook her head. 

“I don’t want too.”

“Pepa you need to eat this,” she stressed, “Your on the verge of catching a cold. Not to mention the cuts on your knees are caked in dirt. Which dramatically increases your chance of infection.”

Her daughter remained stubborn, “I don’t want too. I don’t deserve too.”

The proclamation broke her heart. 

“Don’t deserve to? Mi vida whatever do you mean?”

Pepa sniffled sadly, “I deserve the scrapes. I’m not pretty enough to heal.”

Alma, in a moment of overwhelming emotion, just hugged her daughter close. Stroking her hair lightly. 

“Pepa my sweet, you listen here,” Alma emphasized, “It does not matter what those kids said or did. It does not matter what they think your body looks like. Or what others look like. Your body is yours. Which automatically makes it beautiful. You are gorgeous Pepa. And they were wrong to say your not.”

“B-but. But I’m not, I don’t look like other girls. In, um, places.” A strong red rose to her daughters cheeks. And she stroked them sympathetically. 

Alma smirked to herself softly, “Your just a late Bloomer Pepa. And I’ll let you in on a little secret. I was too when I was your age.”

Pepa jerked, “You were?”

“Yes,” she nodded humorously, “I was the only girl in the village who still looked 8 by age 14. It was definitely a bit outing. But it was also nice in a way. That I went through that awkward stage a little bit later then others. When they were a tad bit more mature. So it wasn’t as harmful.”

Pepa looked down. Silent for a while. Before finally reaching out for the Arepa. 

She quickly handed it over. Feeling satisfied at watching the painful looking scrapes and bruise disappear from her daughter’s form. 

Her lips were a little less blue, but the shivering still remained. Credit to the continually pouring rain cloud. 

Alma glanced up with contempt, looking back down at Pepas lanky form. 

“How about we go upstairs and get all dried off? I’ll ask Julieta to make some warm cocoa for you.”

Although hesitant, Pepa nodded, obviously relieved at the idea of not being as wet and cold. 

And that was the end of that memory. Something she’d stored even thirty something years later. 

It was a bit sad that was the last time she could remember helping her daughter. Truly helping her. So Alma made a silent promise to change her ways. And be their for Pepa anytime she needed her now. 

It was all she could do.

 2. Julieta. 

Julieta was probably the most common with her attacks. Someone who had grown accustomed to every little tic and stim Pepa emulated. 

Their was always a evadible relief when she was present during a meltdown. Because Pepa wholeheartedly trusted her sister. And knew she’d take care of her. All while asserting it wasn’t a burden. 

Julieta had been in the Kitchens, per usual. Cooking yet another meal for the town. 

What others didn’t know was that she was also keeping a keen eye on her Sister. 

Including Bruno, the three of them had always had some type of psychic connection. Knowing when one was suffering even if they didn’t show it. 

Bruno had disappeared a while ago… so their trio went down to a duo. But their sense remained just as strong. 

Even with how hard Pepa was trying to appear normal, masking her stims and hiding her emotions like their Mama had coached her to do, Julieta could sense something was off. 

She could feel a frown spread across her face. She didn’t like when Pepa forced down her emotions. It wasn’t healthy. And it defiantly contributed to some long lasting problems. Such as her need to self harm as a way of comfort. 

The family was gathered round the table, with Abuela animatedly talking about their daily chores. 

Julieta had only been able to escape the repeated speech by saying she needed to get cooking. Which wasn’t exactly false, so it wasn’t a lie. 

Or at least that’s what she’d take to the grave. 

But now from afar, she could really see how her sister was suffering in silence. 

Their was little things she did, when she wanted to stim, but refrained, a compromise with her own body per say. 

First, was the braid. Darn that braid.

 It was the root of nearly all her self harming behaviors. Many a night Julieta had wished to just cut it off, if only to spare her sister some pain. But she also had half a brain to know if she did that, Pepa would never forgive her. 

But at least she was granted a small mercy, Pepa seemingly wanted to mask her stims today, and that meant no yanking on her braid. Only light stroking. 

Another sign was humming. Or maybe it was small words, just said so quietly you could only hear the vibrations of it. 
She bet her Sobrina Dolores could hear it better, which didn’t exactly make her feel better. 

Now looking at her niece, she could see her wide eyes look even wider, if possible. Casting occasionnel concerned glances at her Mama. 

Bless her soul, Dolores was always so concerned about Pepa. Wanted to make sure she was happy as possible.  

They both had been blessed with Autism. So they had a bond even Julieta could not access. Which was completely fine with her. It just meant their was another person who could help Pepa out in a bunch. 

“Julieta? I thought you were cooking?” Her mother’s voice startled her out of her stupor, glancing uneasily in her direction. 

“I-uh, I was.” She lied lamely. 

Her mother gave her a minor irritated look, “Well stop looking at your sister and get back to work. Your going to be late now for the daily rounds.”

A blush made it’s way across both sisters faces. As Julieta unwillingly brought even more attention on her poor Hermana. 

“W-well if that’s that case, I’ll need someone to stay with me?” Julieta attempted to be nonchalant. 

Her mother raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “You do?”

She put on a false bravado, “Y-Yes! I do! I’ll take Pepa. You don’t need her do you?”

Her sister shot her a glance, as if asking ‘what are you doing?!’

“Actually I do need her,” Alma shifted, “The farmers need her in the fields.”

Julieta froze. 

The fields. 

So that’s why Pepa was so nervous.

The fields was an activity that seemed objectively made to torture her poor sister. 

It was a patch of land that need watering frequently. And because the farmers were apparently to lazy to do it themselves, they enlisted the help of the only person who could make it rain on command. 

Except she couldn’t. She couldn’t make it rain on command. 

The only way she rained was either from fear, anxiety, or sadness. 

Which meant she either had to be those feelings when she got their, or worse, someone had to prompt them from her. 

It was something straight out of nightmares. And she’d only been a few times, but she stopped going, mainly because it was literally to painful to watch. 

“Well I need her more,” she rushed to affirm, “Fields can be watered any day. But a possible life threatening injury couldn’t.”

Abuela grumbled, obviously trying to find a hole in the logic. But ultimately failed, relinquishing  Pepa from her duties with a wave of her hand. 

Julieta could see the relief roll of her sister in heavy waves. And was glad she could at least help her in that situation. 

The nervous tics did not leave her, however, so it was an even bigger relief when the family was finally dismissed. Alma leaving her two daughters with one final suspicious glance. 

“Julieta…” Pepa turned her attention to her sister, with a knowing tone, “I know you don’t need any help. You could make an Arepa blindfolded, with one hand, in under a minute. So why am I here?”

She smiled in what she hoped looked comforting, “I noticed you looked stressed. So I thought I should give you the chance to let go.”

Pepa blinked, “Let…go?”

It was a little sad that the concept seemed so foreign to her. A lifetime of repression holding strong. 

“Yes,” Julieta rushed to take her sisters hands, holding them softly even though the frigid temperature always made her want to shiver, “Pepa it’s me. I’m your older sister. I know when you need a stim break.”

Her hermana blushed fiercely, sputtering something along the lines of ‘We’re both the same age’. 

She grinned, “That may be, but I was born first. Therefor, I am older.”

“Ugh! You’ll never let me forget that will you.” Pepa scowled, a cloud quickly forming.  

Julieta squeezed her hands, to show it was nothing but a simple tease. 

“Don’t worry about Mama,” she whispered, “Don’t worry about the food. Don’t worry about the fields. Don’t worry about anyone. Just let go.”

Pepa whimpered, biting her lip anxiously. It seemed both horrible and too good to be true. 

“I won’t let anyone see you,” Julieta pointed at the ceiling, “And I’m pretty sure Casitas got your back too. Right Casita?!”

The tiles puttered happily, ready in a heartbeat to help out its residents. 

“You sure?” Her sisters eyes were glossy and filled with apprehension.

Julieta tugged her close, resting her head on top of Pepas messy red curls, even if it meant the later had to bend slightly. 

“Of course Mi Hermana. I don’t care if you stim. It’s who you are. And I love you for it.”

Pepa sniffled, gripping tight, before pushing away. Lip trembling and hands twitching. 

“You sure?” She hushed again. Just to be absolutely sure. 

Julieta nodded, “You don’t need it, but if it helps, I give you permission to let go.”

That seemed to do it, as Pepa nodded with a sharp wail, “Oh thank GOD!”

“Just please stay at least five feet away from me?” She rushed to say before her sister completely went off, “I’m making the Arepas and they can’t get wet. But literally anywhere else is ok.”

The red head nodded. And moved to start yanking on her braid. 

“Oh!” Julieta called out as an afterthought, “And if i see any danger stims I will come over to stop you. But yeah, sorry. I keep adding things.”

The nod was more hesitant. But understanding. And then, finally. Pepa could let her emotions run rampent. 

She did everything. 
From pacing back and forth, ranting angrily. Motor stims, vocal stims, the ever present hair tug. And even a few spinning stims. Which always made Julieta because of the giggles her sister would emit while doing them. 

And while the house was getting soaked in every weather known to mankind, Julieta just quietly hummed a tune, patiently listening to her sisters rambling, as she kneaded the dough for the Arepas. 

It was a relatively peaceful atmosphere. Minus the weather. 

Because even though the conditions were harsh, both sisters felt safe in the others presence. 

And that’s what mattered most. 

 3. Bruno 

Bruno was her brother. Her Hermano. Someone who was so similar In ways, but different in others. 

He was not autistic. 

Or maybe he was, but subtler then hers. Overpowered and out shown by the much more obvious OCD. 

They both ticked. And they were both subjugated to the reprimanding glare of their mother. So it was something that linked them.  A link that went beyond words and thoughts. 

When Bruno left….

Pepa felt as if something died inside her. Like that link had been severed and trampled on. Like she wasn’t enough for him. 

But now he was back. And they were slowly remembering that link that once was. 

Bruno was nervous. His family was holding another party. A re opening of the house, if you will. 

Typically, he would have been able to retreat deep into the walls, where the noise was less, and their was no bitter temptation to reveal himself to everyone. 

Except now they knew of the walls. They knew where he hid. And Even Casita seemed to want him to immerse himself into the world again. Cutting Off all the entrances just for tonight. 

That’s how he found himself sitting outside. On the edge of the porch, while the festivities went on behind him. 

Just calm yourself. He could hear his mother whisper in a ghost of a memory. 

“Knock knock knock knock, Knock on wood.” A compulsion ran through him, his hands knocking on ground and head accordingly. 

Oddly enough. It did not help like it usually did. 

He did it a few more times, as if to test it out, but that quiet relief that normally followed did not come. 

It was unnerving to say the least.  

Bruno was made aware of footsteps behind him. And waited for it to leave, as most passerby’s did. 

But strangely, they didn’t. The steps stopping right behind him. 

The undeniable urge to turn around and see who it was pricked at his spin. 
Sending a violent shiver up his back, Brunos heart rapidly picking up speed. 

His lungs burned for air. Fingers twitching wildly. Until all he could think was ‘Turn around. Turn around. See who it is. Is it a stranger. Will they laugh. Will they judge?’

But he stopped himself.
Their was something about these footsteps that seemed familiar in a way. Ones that did not require the paranoid look around. 

“T-this spot taken?” A slightly nasally voice squeaked out. 

Instantly, relief washed over him. Brain making the connection instantly. 

“T-take it away, sis.”

Pepa Madrigal sat next him, barely sparing him a glance as she ran her hands through her braid erratically. An odd crackling cloud above her.

Bruno’s brows furrowed, their was something off about his sister. While she wasn’t normally the most put together person, this wasn’t typically how she dealt with her emotions. 

“Pepa?” He murmured, not caring about the danger he was possibly in by being so close, “Hermana are you ok?”

Pepas lips trembled, and she opened them only to let out a sharp cry. Eyes bulging out of her head as she hastily slapped a hand over her mouth. Resuming her motions on her hair twice as fast. 

Ok now Bruno was really concerned. And all the thoughts of what could have happened crashing through his mind. 

Did a kid misbehave? That would invoke anger right? This wasn’t anger. Or at least he didn’t think so. 

Someone could said something? The thought of someone insulting his triplet sending ice through his veins. He’d have them begging for mercy after the vision he’d make up. 

“Who was it?” He questioned, “Just point. I’ll tell em off. What they say? Something about your weather? I’ll tell them they die by lightening strike!”

Pepa just rapidly shook her head, removing the hand from her mouth to start yanking at her braid. 

That seemed to be a bad decision, for a soon as her hand left, she let out another stream of noises. 

“GUH-“ his Hermana whimpered, slapping a hand straight back to her mouth. 

Her brows furrowed. Face straining as she struggled to keep whatever she wanted in. Folding in on herself as the other hand worked to pull on her braid as hard as she could muster. 

“Hey, hey, no no you can’t do that sis.” Bruno’s voice trembled, but their was no hesitation to scoot closer. One arm wrapping around his older sibling, the other prying the hand away from her hair. 

Pepa groaned again, gesturing desperately to her mouth, then her braid. 

“I know,” he murmured understandingly, “I know Pepa. But it’s not good to pull on your hair like that. I-it hurts you.”

Pepa let out strangled chokes, the sound not muffled by her hands bleeding through. 

Bruno though he had an idea what she was having trouble with.

“Is it clear skies? You wanna say clear skies? Please go ahead?”

The Latina shook her head, feet stomping in exasperation. 

“What? What is it? Please just tell me!” He was becoming overwhelmed. Hating to see his sister in such pain. But not knowing how to help in any way. 

Pepa moved to say something, but instead let out a shrill, “Tic-a-tack-a-tic!”

She sobbed, placing her hands back in place. Back trembling from restraint. 

Bruno was a little surprised, out of all of her stims, Vocal was probably the least common. If you didn’t count the ‘clear skies’ that is. 

Ohhhh, oh wait. Oh ok. Ok. That made more sense. 

Understanding rushed through him, a silent relief usually his own tics brought. 

“These are uncommon vocal tics right? You’ve practically never said them?” He questioned.  

Pepa nodded hesitantly. 

“You scared to let them go? Worried some weathers gonna dampen the mood? Make Mama angry?”

Another nod. 

Bruno sighed, pondering how to deal with the situation. 

It was something he was quite used too, a lot of his tics were vocal. And all of them earned that crippling gaze from their mother. But In the walls he didn’t have to worry about that as much.  Just had to delve deeper in the house to muffle the sounds. 

“Let them out?” He suggested calmly. 

Pepa looked at him as if he was crazy. 

“What?” Bruno raised his hands in a peace offering, “Your struggling to keep them in. But now we’re outside. Your tics won’t hurt anyone inside. See, even I’m doing them.”

He proceeded to do his ‘Knock on wood’ tic. And a couple salt and sugar throws for good measure. 

This made his sister wince, who seemingly wanted to keep her stims in at all cost. 

“Hey,” he let his hand fall to the small of her back, rubbing in circles gently, “Sis, holding this in is just bad as yanking on your braid. It’s harmful. It’s painful.”

Pepa avoided his gaze, trembling violently.

“You know I’m right.”

Bruno leaned closer, “I’m not gonna judge.”

She jolted. 

“Just let them out,” he resumed his movements on her back, trying to get her to relax, “I’m practically weather proof. Not to mention I’m gonna be letting some good tics out myself.”

Pepa eyed him questioningly, considering the statement. 

“Don’t worry sis. Your lil bros got you.”

She took a deep breath, and proceeding to let out a stream of words. Each new and interesting to Bruno. 

It seemed he wasn’t the only one bothered by the party.

Not one to let her wallow alone, he let out some of his own tics. Until they were both practically screaming. Trying to out do the other with an audience of no one but the endless sky. 

“ISNT THIS GREAT!” He yelled with a smile. 

“YES!” Pepas cheeks were flushed as she screamed, “THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME!”

“OF COURSE!”

He broke off to let out some more powerful tics, “KA-CAW! KNOCK ON WOOD!”

“TICK-A-TACK-A-TICK! KRRRRR.”

“PINCH OF SALT. LITTLE SUGAR.!”

“CLEAR SKIES. CLEAR SKIES.”

It went on for hours. People looking at them weirdly, but eventually leaving when they realized they wouldn’t stop on their accord. 

It was honestly the most fun Bruno’s had with his sister in ages. And it was interesting to find that the party didn’t seem as intimidating at the end. 

Maybe as much as his sister needed him that night, he needed her.

And maybe Casita knew that all along. As it gave him the translation of a wink when walking back in. 

“Bruno?”  Pepa called out with a hoarse voice, as they walked to bed. 

“Yes?” His voice crackled back.”

“Thank you,” she smiled earnestly, “I’ve missed ticking with you.”

“I have too. It’s no problem.”

It was surprising how much he meant that. Hiding in the walls had seemed like the only decision at the time. But had also desensitized him to moments such as this. Making him treasure them that much more. 

“Good night Pepa.”

“Night Hermano.”

 4. Agustín. 

Agustiń was by no means a bad person, he was insanely clumsy, more then her if possible. And a weirdly strong bee magnet. 

But besides that, he was a nice person. Kind. Definitely a good match for her sister. And a great father to his kids. 

But in all honesty. They were never really close. Him and Pepa. They had unspoken words and vague head nods to go on. No one really knowing where to start. But entangled with the love of the family. 

He had only been their for her once. But from then on, she knew deep down, that he’d be their in a heartbeat if she needed. 

Agustín was in no way a bad person. And in all honesty. She was happy to have him as a brother in law. 

Agustín remembered that time as well. And although he wouldn’t admit it, it was kinda an accident he found her in the first place. 

He had just been attacked by yet another group of bees, and was blindly searching the kitchen for the stash of Arepas his amazing wife kept specifically for him. And his many, many, injuries. 

A couple hand flops here, a couple hand flops their, and finally they landed on something circular. And out he pulled a wide jar of emergency food. So lovingly labeled ‘FOR AGUSTÍN ONLY’. 

He’d have to give his wife a kiss of a lifetime for this. 

Or make dinner for her! Yeah! He hasn’t done that in a while. 

He winced, remembering of course their was a reason for that. 

The last time he tried to make anything in the kitchen resulted in a lot of flames. And a lot of burns. 

And oddly enough, a spur of the moment Bee swarm. 

Even Abuela found this strange, glancing at him uneasily as he ran out of the house screaming. 

It was definitely weird how they always went to him. Like he was a life sized flower with arrows pointing at him. 

Hey… now that he thought about it, why didn’t they ever go to Isabella??? She was the literally walking flower girl?!

He sighed humorously, knowing that even if one Bee looked at his beautiful daughter, he’d jump in front of it with no hesitation. 

What could he say? He was a dad. It’s just what they did. 

Agustín moaned in happiness, after a bite of the Arepa made all his Bee stings disappear. Flexing each finger individually to test mobility, after the swelling disappeared instantly. 

They worked just fine, as they always did when he ate his wife’s amazing food. 

She always liked to say that it was her love that healed him, not her powers. 

He’d smile back and agree wholeheartedly. 

He quickly scarfed down the rest of the Arepa, tucking the jar safely back in its little nook. With every intention of going back to work and somehow not being injured in the process. 

It was as he was leaving that he heard it. 

A sharp breath, a soft sniffle, a dull whimper. 
It was feint, but definitely their. And it surprised him he hadn’t heard it before. 

Ugh, it was probably due to the bee stings. Swelling his ears up till they could barely hear a firework, nevertheless a quiet cry. 

Still, he quickly brushed off his annoyance, now making the silent trek in search of the origin. 

“Isabella?” He called faintly, the cries seemed feminine, so he was going through process of elimination, “Mirabel?”

The cries stilted at his call, making him conclude it had to be his youngest daughter. Heart squeezing painfully at the mere thought. 

He rounded the corner, expecting to see his youngest. 

“Mirabel, it’s ok it’s just me I- Oh.”

Agustín froze, not knowing what to do. 

In front of him was not his precious Mirabel, but rather, his sister in law Pepa. 

Pepa was tucked into a corner, scrunched into a ball, rocking back and forth rapidly. Nearly vibrating. 

Her hands were clenched around her hair, yanking in what looked to be a painful amount. Agustiń winced just watching it. 

Her eyes were closed, seemingly not wanting to see her company. Mumbling something under her breath. 

Upon further inspection, it was ‘Clear skies’ over and over. 

Agustiń was at a loss. Fumbling useless as he watched the scene unfold. 

He knew what it was, he knew Pepa had autism. It was one of the first things Julieta made sure to tell him, along with Bruno’s OCD, when they first started to court. 

Julieta was nervous, he remembers. Hoping desperately he wasn’t a guy who’d be fearful or disgusted by this key fact. 

He wasn’t. Rapidly assuring her that it was ok with him. That he wouldn’t see them any differently. 

Even armed with this knowledge, Agustiń never seen a meltdown this up close and personal. He’d seen a couple from far off, and definitely had seen her stim before. 

But he’d never been alone 

It was never up to him to help in some way. 

But now, with no other option, he was forced to do something. If only to help his poor sister in law. Who was getting more distressed by the minute. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Agustiń crouched beside her, afraid to touch her an make it worse, “It’s me. It’s Agustiń. I’m here Pepa. W-what do you want me to do.”

Of course she didn’t respond. He had no idea why he’d expect her too. 

He wracked his brain, desperately trying to remember information Julieta had given him over time.  

One key thing stood out : If she’s doing any danger stims. Stop her immediately.

He didn’t really fully know what classified at Danger stims. But assumed it meant something harmful in some way. 

He winced again, the hair pulling definitely seemed harmful if anything.

“U-Um o-ok Pepa? Pepa can you hear me? Um, I need you to stop pulling on your hair? Can you do that for me?”

Pepa just moaned something shrill, shaking her head and pulling twice as hard. 

Agustín soon realized he’d have to move her hands himself. Which is something he definitely wasn’t sure if he could do. 

Oh lord, how he wished his wife was here. Or Abuela. Or Fèlix. Literally anyone would be better then him. 

But he knew what Julieta would want. Would want him to try even if he was nervous. Would want him to help her sister. 

So with a second to brace himself, he moved inwards. 

“Ok Pepa? I’m gonna touch your hands now ok. You can’t do that to your hair.”

He hesitantly grasped her hands, gasping at the shocking cold radiating off of them.  

Pushing through, he pried her fingers off as gently as he could. Giving her his arm to hold on instead. Realizing he’d have to rock slightly as well for her to hold on continually. 

After that was done, he decided to focus on soothing, continuously murmur soft words of assurance and comfort. 

He hoped it was helping. Hoped desperately that he was doing this correctly. And wasn’t making it worse in the process. 

It took a while, but eventually Pepas rocking tapered to a stop. Her mumbling slowing down. And lastly, her eyes blinking open. 

Agustín immediately moved in front of her, “Hey? How are you doing? Do you need something? Water? Blanket? Tea?”

“A-Agustín?” Pepa murmured, as if confused by the sight in front of her. 

“Yeah,” he replied, suddenly realizing they were both soaking wet, “Wow! Soy estúpido! I didn’t get a towel or anything, gosh Lo siento I’ll go get that I’ll-“

-“Agustín?” Pepa tried again, “Y-you stayed with me?”

He stopped his rambling, pausing to really look at her, “Of course Pepa? Why wouldn’t I?”

The Latina was speechless. Apparently not expecting him to do that. 

He would have been a bit hurt, if not for the fact he was surprised as well. 

“I should go get a towel or something or-“

Agustiń was cut off from a tug by Pepa, who just pulled him beside her. And proceeded to rest her head on his shoulder. 

He stayed ramrod still. Worried to somehow make her upset again. 

“Thank you Agustín.” Pepa whispered softly. 

“O-Of course,” he nodded, “Anytime.”

And he meant it. If Pepa was ever getting overwhelmed, He’d be their for her. Even if he was inexperienced and scared. 

And with that thought, he relaxed just a bit more. Taking in the silence of Casita. And the touch of his sister. 

 5. Fèlix. 

Fèlix, her beloved, knew her more then she knew herself. He was always their for her. With an everlasting patient smile.  And kind hands, warm as hers were cold. 

She loved him more then he could imagine and was thankful he was her cherished husband. 

Felix frowned, as he slowly got dressed into some night clothes. His wife doing the same on the other room. 

The room was chilly, light snowflakes hitting his bare skin and making him shiver. 

Thankfully Pepas room would automatically adjust, to negate whatever weather she was telling. And quickly he could feel the temperature warm up. Soothing the cold. 

He cast a concerned look at his wife. Who continually avoided his gaze, muttering ‘clear skies’ every once and a while. 

Pepa had been forced to go to the fields that day. Something he’d personally seen the horrors of. She’d stand in rows and rows of crops, waiting for someone to make her feel sad enough to cry, or scared enough to tremble. Just to water the plants. 

It was barbaric. Something he’d mentioned to Abuela directly, especially after she’d come home in tears. Shaking like a leaf. 

Abuela hadn’t seemed to like it any more then he did, but ‘Farmers need their plants watered’ she’d mutter emotionally. 

When Pepa came back from the fields today with a forced smile, and pouring rain cloud. Fèlix knew she wasn’t ok. 

His love on the other hand, seemed to think she was. Clipping every concern short. And rushing to get upstairs. 

She even skipped dinner. Something that concerned him majorly. Julieta had made Empanadas. Pepas favorite. 

He heard a sigh from behind just as he finished buttoning his shirt. Turning to see Pepa bent by the window. Her lithe form trembling quietly. 

“Mi la vida,” he tried again, wrapping his arms around her waist, “Please. I know your not ok. You don’t have to hold it all in.”

“I’m fine.” She murmured, an edge to her voice. 

Her body communicated otherwise, relaxing into his touch. And the familiar weight of her head leaning back onto his shoulder. 

“Let’s get to bed? Ok my love?”

Pepa took a long shuddering breath, before nodding, “Ok.”

Gently, Fèlix guided her over to their shared bed. His only objective to make her as comfortable and happy as could be. 

She got in slowly, Fèlix practically doing everything, which didn’t bother him. But still made him worry. 

He knew what was happening. She was shutting down. Her emotions becoming to overwhelming to process. 

He made sure to tuck his wife in night in tight, rushing to go around and climb in next to her. Adjusting so they were facing each other. 

Pepa looked so small, curling in on herself, face downtrodden like the cloud above her. It broke his heart. 

“Pepa, Bebe,” he soothed, tracing her face with a warm hand, “You should get some rest. You’ve had a hard day.”

She attempted a weak smile, “Ill be ok Fèlix, you go to sleep.”

Fèlix frowned, “But if I do that, then you won’t.”

Pepa was a severe insomniac. Capable of staying up a week straight if she was anxious enough. Fèlix hated it, hated how weary she’d get. The bags under her eyes growing darker and darker. Until sometimes, she’d actually feint from exhaustion. 

“I’ll be fine.” She repeated quietly. Fingers tracing her braid.  

He knew that wasn’t right. Knew she’d stay up and let her thoughts drive her mad. 

The dark haired guy scooted in even closer, enough that their noses were practically touching. So that he could see every little freckle, and adorable detail in his beautiful wife’s face. 

“Please get some sleep?” He begged. Leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Te Amo.” She whispered instead. 

“Y yo a ti.” 

Fèlix draped a protective arm around her thin frame, before sleep finally overtook him.

——

“Fèlix.”

…

“Fèlix!”

He jolted awake with a gasp. Blinking slowly to clear the spots from his vision. 

Instinctively, he reached to his right, trying to find his wife. Pulse quickening when his hand only met the sheets. 

“Mi amor?”  Fèlix sat up with a question, finally realizing Pepa was already wide awake. 

Of course she was. 
Estúpido of him to think she’d fall asleep. He should have never let it overtake him. Should have stayed up with her. 

“Pepa? Mi cariño? What’s wrong?”

The pieces were finally starting to connect in his tired mind. Understand his wife had waken him up for a reason. 

Pepa looked absolutely panicked. One hand rooted by her braid. The other one grasping onto Fèlix’s arm tightly. 

“F-Fèlix?” She repeated. Eyes wide and tears welling. 

“Amor.” He rushed to sit up, quickly scanning her for injuries. 

“Are you physically hurt in any way?”

He’s seen this before. Should have predicted it already. Knows how to analyze everything. Knows what questions to ask. 

She gives a quick shake no, starting to rock back and forth. 

“F-Fèlix. I-it. I-I.”

“Shhhh,” he soothed, “Don’t talk, I understand. Your just getting overwhelmed. It’s going to be ok.”

Pepa shook her head, yanking on her braid, “T-the fields Fèlix. I-it’s to much.”

He wraps an arm around her trembling shoulders, gently swaying her back and forth In a soothing gesture. 

“I’ve got you Pepa. I’ve got you my love.”

He reaches up with his free hand, cupping the back of the latinas creamy one. Stroking it lightly with his thumb. 

“I need you to let go of your braid,” Fèlix whispers calmly, “Can you do that for me, mi amor?”

Pepa nods slowly. Letting out a sob as she does so. The hand in question immediately travels up to her mouth. A habit returning that she only lets herself the mercy of when she’s in the privacy of her own room. 

He smiles, placing his hands on her waist, and in one fluid motion, moves her so she’s between his legs. Her back to his front. 

Now he can completely envelope her in a hug. One of the most efficient ways to cut off a panic attack for her before it even starts. 

Fèlix presses a affirming kiss to her shoulder, “I love you so much Pepa. I’ve got you. Just sway with me ok? Don’t think about anything. Feel my arms around you. Feel my heartbeat on your back. Feel my love surrounding you.”

Pepa nods, shaky words barely being formed. 

Fèlix gently rocks them back and forth, continually pressing kisses and whispering words of encouragement in her ear. 

“You’ve got this Mi la Vida. Just listen to my voice.”

Slowly but surely, his wife’s breath tapered out. 

Even so, he continued to rock back and forth. Not letting up until every ounce of pain and pent up pressure left his Pepa. 

“How are you feeling now Pepa, amor?” He hushed quietly. 

Fèlix didn’t receive an answer. Brows furrowing worriedly. 

“Pepa?”

He glanced at his wife, a smile soon breaking out. 

Apparently he did too good of a job with the comforting, for Pepa had passed out into a deep slumber. 

He waited a beat, smiling wider when her soft snores started to fill the room. 

Fèlix loved that sound. Loved every single thing about his goddess of a wife. 

Everything others would call a flaw. He’d call a blessing. 

The gap in her teeth made her smile all the more adorable. Her light skin creamy and smooth. Her hair reminded him of honey. And her voice sounded like angels. 

He’d do anything for his wife. Including stay up for the next hour, continuously rocking back and forth. Just to make sure she’d rest peacefully. 

 6. Isabella 

Pepa adored each of her nieces and nephews, just as she does her own children. 

But she does believe they each have their own personality. Their own special talent. 

And no, the talent was not their gift. 

A talent comes from who you are. From who you become. Not what’s given to you at age 5. 

Isabella is a mystery. Like a thorny rose. 
She looks beautiful, but mess with her and you get poked. 

Pepa likes her soft side. The earnest one, that comes from her hidden center. 

She’s used it to help her numerous times.

Isabellas resting when It happens. 

One moment she’s making a mural out of cactus’s on her ceiling, and the next, she’s been startled by a loud rapid barrage of knocks on her door. 

“Isa? Isabella are you in their?!” 

It’s Tia Pepa. Which definitely struck her as odd. 

She felt close with every member of her family in their own way. But Tia wasn’t one to knock on her door very much. 

“Hold on!” Isa calls out, “I’m coming.”

She hastily makes her way across her room, dodging numerous assorted pots and shrubs. 

She opens the door with a loud swing, letting out a small gasp, startled by her Tia’s appearance. 

Pepa Madrigal looks frantic. Hands working tirelessly on her braid. Beads of sweat clicking to her bow. 

Isa feels concern well in her chest, “Tia Pepa are you-“

-“Can I come in?!” Her questions spastic, simultaneously cutting her off. 
Isabella doesn’t even begin to answer before Pepa is shoving past. Mumbling something frantically under her breath. 

She begins pacing the length of Isa’s room, apparently looking at the hundreds of flowers currently blooming. 

Isa can only watch in bewilderment as she starts talking even louder. 
Is she talking to her? It’s hard to tell. 

“Isabella? You have flowers right? 
What am I saying of course you have flowers- Damn it Pepa! 
Clear skies! Clear skies! 
-Flowers!! Flowers. Focus on flowers. 
That’s a flower right? -Of course it’s a flower it’s literally a flower why can’t you see that- Oh god she’s going to be mad- Clear skies damn it!”

She looks like she’s having a nervous breakdown, something that scares Isabella slightly. 

“Tia Pepa?!” She calls out a bit louder, “Why do you need a flower? What’s wrong? Please tell me?”

Where’s Tio Fèlix? Or Dolores? They were much better with helping out when Pepa got like this. 

Whoa, girl. Calm yourself.

Isabella takes a deep breath, calming her emotions till she’s thinking more rationally.

Shes not about to count herself out yet. This is her Tia. She deserves patience and time to work through her troubles. 

She steps closer, close enough that her aunt can hear her no matter how quiet she is. 

“Tia Pepa. What is wrong?!” She’s a bit stern with her question, but intentional. Wants to snap Pepa out of whatever’s happening. 

Pepa freezes, hands tightening on her braid, before turning with an obviously fake smile. 

“Uhhh, Nothing! Nothings wrong sobrina! Sorry if I, ahem. Startled you.”

Isa cocks an eyebrow, watching her aunt wither under the accusing gaze, “No offense Tía. But that doesn’t feel like the truth. At all. Like your not a good liar.”

Pepa averts her eyes, “S-sorry.”

“Theirs no need to apologize,” she softens, giving a hopefully comforting smile, “I just want to help you. But I can’t do that if your caught in your own panic.”

Her Tía shuffles anxiously, nodding quickly, “T-that’s fair. Sorry Isabella. I should have concerned you with this I-“

-“Hey! No, that’s not what I said.” Isabella moves closer. So their just a foot away from each other. 

“If you have a problem I want to help you! But I just want you to calm down first. So we can solve this problem rationally.”

Pepa nods. Which she takes as a good sign. 

“Ok then, so, what happened?”

Tia whimpers, frowning to herself, “Well I was walking through the village. As I do. Cause Mama had asked me to give a little extra sunlight to a patch of vegetables the Garcia’s were growing…
-But somehow I must have been too happy, cause then it caught on fire! 
And now I’m just trying to make myself cry cause crying equals rain ya know? 
But then the fire spreads and burns their prized flower bed and now their all mad at me. 
And Mamas going to be even more mad. And once again I should not be bothering you with this? Gosh Pepa idiota! Get a hold of yourself!”

She’s started to pace again. Enunciating every hateful insult with a yank on her braid.

“Hey, wait no, Tia,” Isabella unsuccessfully tries to get her attention again. Brows furrowed in frustration at her failed attempts. 

Pepa is in her own world now. Muttering things and getting more frantic, tangling one hand into her bangs and pulling as hard as she can. 

The cloud above her is grey and rumbling. Another bad sign. 

Isabella is not an adult. At least. Not close enough to her aunt to equal adult status. 

But she is a cousin. And her best friend in the entire world is her cousin Dolores. 

She, of course, knows Dolores and Pepa are two different beings.
But they both have autism. And some of the same rules apply to both of them. 

Isa tries to remember what Dolores has told her, what Isabella herself had done so many times before. 
It’s definitely annoying it isn’t already at the top of her head. 

For Dolores. She needs something to latch on. Too help drown out the noises of the world. A person, or a calming sound. 

But Pepa isn’t struggling through something auditory . She’s drowning in her own thoughts. 

Isabella needs to give her something else to latch onto besides her thoughts. Something sudden, that could push past anything self deprecating or anxious. 

She needs to give her a shock to her systems. 
But with what?! 
Isa’s glancing around the room for answers. Only seeing an endless amount of Flora. 

Wait.

Texture could be a stimulatory thing right?? 

Like pulling spoons out of honey, she remembers how Dolores absolutely loved to rub different fabrics on her face. And if she liked one especially, she’d smile and giggles to herself. 

Eyeing Tia Pepa closely, it seemed her most sensitive area was probably her hands. Or maybe her hair as well. 

Isa winced. She really didn’t like how hard her Tia was pulling on her braid. She’d have to stop that soon enough. 

With a barely formulated plan, she straightened her postured slightly. Gathering the courage to go through with this. 

“Tia Pepa!” She called loudly, and with a flick of her finger, the softest flower she could produce bubbled around her aunts hands, “Focus on the flower! Please.”

Pepa stopped, hands rubbing curiously over the new texture, letting out small noises of curiosity. 

“That’s it,” Isabella soothed, walking a bit closer now that she stopped pacing, “Is that enough? Do you want some more in your hair as well?”

At the mere mention of hair, Tìa Pepa immediately moved to start grasping at her braid. 

“No!” Isabella outstretched an arm, a thin vine whipping out and pulling the curly braid away from agitated fingers. Pinning it in a makeshift bun with a thorn to hold it in place. 

Pepa immediately started to look more panicked without the familiar comfort of her hair, tears of exasperation seemingly welling in her eyes. 

Isa closed the gap between them, taking her aunts freezing hands in hers. 

“Tia,” she spoke in a gentle manner, “Focus on me. And the softness of the flower. Don’t think about anything else ok?”

Their was a brief mumbled worry, but Pepa was nodding along. So it was basically now or never. 

Isabella smiled encouragingly, “Ok that’s good. Very good. Now Um. Hold on is this what Dolores said, yes! Ok! Sorry. Can you name five things you can see?”

Pepa looked confused, offering a puzzled click of her tongue. 

“Just go with it.” The floral girl pushed gently. 

“O-ok then. I-I Um. I can see, uh, you?” The elder paused, looking to Isa for confirmation that she was doing this correctly. 

She grinned just a bit wider, “That’s great. Keep going.”

Pepa beamed at the mere statement, briefly making her wonder just how much validation she got growing up with Abuela. Probably not enough if this whole situation was something to go by. 

“Ok. I see you- oh darn I already said that- uh never mind. I see your Um, your room? And t-that bed? And all the flowers. And uh. This flower. This one in my hands.”

She looked down, gazing at their entwined fingers. A soft purple flower nestled in the middle. 

Isabella chirped, “That’s great! Your doing great. Now can you name four things you can touch?”

Tìa Pepa seemed to have a bit more confidence this round, naming them with less hesitation. 

“Um. This flower. Your hands. The floor. My hair?”

“Perfect! Now three things you can hear?”

This one seemed to be a bit problematic. Which Isabella couldn’t exactly blame her for. Her room was just naturally a quiet one. Not nearly as quiet as Dolores’s room, but still. Quiet enough. 

“B-breathing? I can hear myself breathing. And I can hear you breathing. And uh….”

Isabella discreetly tilted her head to the side, pointing out a pile of leaves she was making rustle together. 

Pepa smiled this time, “And those leaves! I can hear those leaves!”

“That’s amazing. Your doing amazing. Can you name two things you can smell?”

“Rain.” Tìa stated immediately, “I always smell Rain wherever I go. Oh! And the flowers. Your room smells strongly of flowers Sobrina, did you know that?”

The question would seem rhetorical from anyone but Pepa, so Isabella nodded along. Agreeing with intrigue. 

“That’s awesome. Now only one more to go. Can you name something you taste?”

“Oh. That’s easy. Blood.”

“Blood?!” Isabella immediately started to worry. Confused when her aunt just casually waved it off. 

“Ah yes. I tend to bite my lips a little when I’m anxious. It’s nothing bad.”

“But your bleeding then?” Isa stresses importantly, “Anything that causes you to feel pain or bleed isn’t good Tía? You do know that? Right…?”

Pepa avoided her gaze. Mumbling something she couldn’t hear. 

It concerned her immensely. But she was taking this one step at a time. Pressing this subject could make Tía spiral all over again. 

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” She puts on her best pleading face, “Do it with me ok? In, hold two three, our two three four.”

Pepa does so with relative ease. And it’s kinda just hitting Isabella that she managed to help curb a full on panic attack. 

She did it. She didn’t need anyone in the end. The thought nearly makes her dizzy with self sufficient pride. 

She feels her Aunt squeeze her hands, glancing at her with a familiar timid expression, “D-did I do it right?”

“Yes!” Isabella sends her a very proud look, “You did it Tía! Your amazing! I’m very proud.”

Pepa blinks, a small shiver trailing up her body. Then a wide, jaw breaking smile, that makes her giggle just at the sight of. 

“Do you feel better now?”

“I do!” Tía Pepa is grinning, practically trembling with pride, “Muchas Gracias Sobrina. Y-you really helped me out.”

“Of course!” Isabella gestures to her room, “Do you want me to send you a batch of flowers? To give to the Garcia’s?”

Pepa frowns, a stark contrast to her previous smile, “I’d say yes. But I don’t know what type they had. Just that it was their ‘prized flowers’”

Isa smirks, “Don’t worry Tía, I’ve got you covered. The Garcia’s always had a proud bed of Carnelians. A fickle flower, but easy enough when flowers are your gift.”

She raises a hand and out pops a bouquet of Carnelians. Proudly glowing from the daylight up above. 

Pepa took them. Relief gleaming in her eyes. 

“Isabella… I know I’ve already said it, but thank you. You helped me more then you think.”

Isa smiles back, “Theirs no thanks necessary. Your my Tía. I’d do anything for you. And anytime your getting stressed. Just come on over and we can do the five count thing again.”

And she means it. She likes being of use to her family in something besides making flowers. 

It’s like proving their is a different side to her. 

That she’s more then she seems. 

 7. Dolores 

Dolores. Her precious and only daughter. 

Pepa had so much love in her heart. And so much was aimed at her darling girl. 

She had a special bond with each kid. But Dolores was the first person she saw herself in. 

Growing up with Autism in her time was a struggle. No one was like you. And you were constantly either explaining yourself. Trying to explain yourself. Or failing miserably. Which caused you to get even more upset. 

But then she had Dolores. And that moment changed everything. 

She knew the moment Dolores opened her wide eyes. That she was like her. She was like her. And knowing their was someone else in the world like that was like her, that she wasn’t alone. It made her burst into happy tears immediately. 

Like Fèlix, Dolores knew when she was upset, and how to help her. But their was something connecting the two of them. Like a magnet. 

When Dolores got overwhelmed, all she wanted was to be held by her Mama. Which she’d happily supply. And When Pepa got anxious, she found just holding onto her daughter, not unlike a security object, rapidly soothed all her nerves. 

They were truly connected in a way. And that lived close to her heart forever. 

Dolores was quiet. Practically unnoticed in the busy Casita. 

She’d travel up and down, hands clasped, ears perked, eyes wide. 

Everything was a noise. Everything was a sound. Everything had depth. And a meaning. And an action and reaction. 

Life was odd that way. She didn’t really like it. But then again. She couldn’t exactly change it. 

‘Blessed’ with the gift of enhanced hearing. Little Dolores was immediately subjected to the world of noise. 

And while everyone praised it as another wonderful power. She struggled to leave her room. Which was so mercifully soundproofed. 

The only other place she felt at ease was in her Mother’s arms. Call it childish, but her mother was everything she aspired to be, and therefor, everything she took comfort in. 

They were alike, Pepa and her. Mama understood when she needed a stim break. Or noticed when she hadn’t stimmed enough. And if she ever got overwhelmed, always made a place in her lap for her to curl into. 

Dolores didn’t know how she got so lucky, to have a Mama like Pepa Madrigal. But she conquered that she was her true gift. Not the hearing that poured secrets spilled in vain, but the arms that held her together. 

Hearing everything meant she noticed all the tiny things others didn’t. And of course, she focused a lot of this on her Mama. 

She knew immediately if her Mami was Happy or Sad, depending on the beat of her heart. The tug of her hair. And the sound of teeth biting into tender lips. 

Since her Mama was always so gracious to her, whenever she got overwhelmed. She took it upon herself to do the same for her. 

It’s the least she could do. This woman gave her life. She did everything for her. 

And everyday, when people overlooked quiet little Dolores, Pepa would be the one to stand up and cheer for her daughter. Highlighting recent accomplishments and praising her for all she’s worth. 

The outside world seemed distorted and fake in a way. 

Secrets were no good when someone always heard. 

But her Mama? Her Mama. 

Her mama was the only true thing in this life. 

Her love was real. Her smiles true. Her hugs like a warm necture Dolores couldn’t get enough of. 

She could go on and on about her Mama. But then she’d be labeled as weird. Because apparently not everyone was lucky as her. Not everyone was as close with their mother’s as Dolores was. 

So she remained quiet. Hands clasped. Ears perked. Eyes open. 

And this is how she was. In the village. Making her daily rounds and helping anyone who needed her. 

Something that might come as a shock to some people, but Dolores was barely needed. 

As cool as enhanced hearing seemed. Not many people actually needed that every day. 

So while Luisa was rounding up the Donkeys, and Tía Julieta healing the ill, Dolores was in the mountains. Far away from everyone. 

She could still hear everything. 

But it was more peaceful up their. 

All alone. With no one to ignore her. Or mock her squeaking. 

She could spend hours in those mountains. 

But not today. 

For today she heard it. 

She heard a whimper. 

Clear and crisp over the thousands of other sounds. 

Dolores knew this sound. Because she had become so entwined with the people around her. She knew every persons voice. The cadence. The decibel level. And henceforth. 

This whimper belonged to her sweet Mama. 

Another whimper quickly fallowed. 

Skin rubbing against hair. Barely formed sweat squelching as her fist clenched around something crackly and frail. 

Whoosh of air. Thud of hair being pulled taught. 

Another whimper. 

Another tug. 

Another whimper. 

The sound of weight being displaced back and forth. 

Dolores squeaked to her feet. Forgoing safety and all but throwing herself down the mountainside. Hands grasping at any surface she could find to propel her surface. 

Her mama needed her. Her mama was suffering. 

She moved even faster. Ignoring the way her heart pounded in her ears. And the way her lungs burned, wheezing desperately for air she would not allow. 

Breathing meant slowing down. 

She ran faster. 

Black spots dotted her vision, her chest a sharp pain that radiates through her tingling body. And only then did she take another breath of air. 

She timed it out. 

Every twenty steps she would breath. 

It was more efficient. Her lungs could take it. She’s heard them give out. Timed it perfectly so they wouldn’t. 

A few cuts and bruises later, Dolores saw the clearing to her home. Her Casa La Madrigal. Her Casita. 

And inside those safeguarded walls, Her Mama. 

“CASITA!” She screeched in the loudest voice she could muster. Which honestly probably wasn’t to loud to others. 

But the loyal house understood, making steps immediately, getting her upstairs as fast as the magic allowed. 

Dolores turned the corner, nearing her mother’s door. She could hear the collective pain Pepa was going through. The rapid breathing, the sharp tugging on her braid. 

She waisted no time knocking, just entered and ran to where the noises Originated. 

“Mama! I’m here!” Dolores called out. Spotting her precious mother and throwing herself next to her. Wrapping brown arms around her skinny frame. 

“D-Dolores?” Pepa was startled, confused, relieved. 

“I’m here Mama. I’m here.” She repeated soothingly, “I’m here now. I’m sorry I wasn’t sooner.”

“D-Dolores!” Mami repeated again. Dolores shook her head. She didn’t need more words. She understood. She always did. 

“I’m here. I’m here now. It’s ok.”

Pepa stared at her for a few seconds, almost unbelieving. Before jolting violently. Lurching forward and gathering as much of Dolores as she could in her trembling arms. Gripping on tightly. 

“Ay, my Hija. My precious daughter. My Dolores. Your here. Your here.”

Dolores nodded into her mother’s shoulder. Stroking her braid for her, as her hands were currently occupied. 

“It’ll be ok. I’ve got you.”

Pepa clung to her daughter even tighter. Lungs heaving, as she rocked back and forth. Letting the calming presence of Dolores sink. 

Dolores never needed explanation. Never pressed her to talk about it. Or wondered why it helped so much. Because she felt the same. 

She needed her Mama just as much as her Mama needed her. Their was something that linked them. Deep down. Just holding them. Being in their presence. It brought a self of calming others couldn’t possess. 

Even Papa could not stop a panic attack this quickly. He took no offense by it. He understood. Understood that as in synch  as he was with his wife. She had a special connection with her daughter unsurpassed. 

It did not mean Pepa loved Dolores more then others. Or that Dolores loved her Mama more then her Papa, or her siblings. 

It just they had someone else like them. Like each other. They had a piece of themselves in another person. 

To know you weren’t alone in this world, was the greatest gift of all.

 8. Luisa 

Even though her niece may not think it, Pepa does see her true thoughts throughout the day. 

Luisa thought she was so good at hiding it, the pressure weighing her down, breaking her mind and killing her heart. 

Pepa can see it. Can see herself in her second eldest Sobrina. 

It’s anxiety she still feels to this day. The pressure to be perfect. To bottle in her emotions and please everyone. 

It’s crippling. 

She doesn’t know how Luisas gotten this far without breaking. And if anything, losing her strength during the fall of casita should have been a warning. 

It’s a relief to not just her niece. But herself as well, when the family makes Lusia take mandatory breaks. Take days off. Give herself room to breath. 

You’d think with everything that’s happened Luisa would be calm under pressure?

That’s not exactly true. But she means well. And that’s what makes her smile in the end. 

Luisa sighs, idly glancing at the village with bored and anxious eyes. 

Today was one of her now forced and mandatory ‘days off’. 
And even though deep down she was relieved, and knew she desperately needed them. It was still a struggle to give up that once very busy schedule. 

So in a way to get Luisa to relax, Mama had sent her out with Tía Pepa to run some very basic errands. Which was basically her way of saying ‘stop skulking around casita! I need to cook!’

Luisa didn’t really mind. She knew how busy her mother could get, and she quite enjoyed her Aunts presence. What others may find off putting, and generally terrifying, she found peaceful and intriguing. 

Pepa wore her heart on her sleeve, or weather above her head, in this case. And Luisa could respect that in a person. She wished she could be that in tune with her emotions. 

Not to mention that she found all the rapidly changing weather soothing in a way. 

The Rain calmed her when she got worried, and the snow was a cool touch when she was hot. Even the wind gave her something to focus on, besides her rapidly beating heart. Wondering if she’d make it through another day. 

Luisa didn’t get much time with her Aunt, not nearly as much as she wanted too. So she decided to make the most of their time together. Walking with a broad smile next to Pepa. 

Tía Pepa was humming next to her, in an unusually happy mood. A rainbow twinkling beautifully above her head. 

She was nearly skipping, swinging a basket of flowers in her hands. Something Luisa asked to carry, naturally out of habit. 

Tía gave her a curious look, letting out a little snort laugh Luisa found very pretty. 

“Luisa? This basket is nothing but a mere pound! I may not have super strength, but even your Ol’ Tía can carry some flowers from time to time.”

Luisa blushed, rapidly trying to apologize and cover up her mistake. 

Her aunt just laid a freezing cold hand on her arm, offering a gap toothed smile, “Only teasing Sobrina.”

“Oh.” She blinked, letting out a delayed chuckle, “S-sorry! I uh. Totally knew that. Not many people joke around me.”

Pepa frowned, “Well then those people are missing out on a quality laugh. Lo siento. They shouldn’t do that.”

“It’s fine!” Luisa awkwardly waved it off, absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck. 

She wasn’t used to people really considering her feelings in things. People kind of assumed she didn’t really have them, cause of her strength. 

“We’ll don’t worry!” Tía exclaimed loudly, startling her slightly, “I’ll tell you enough jokes on the way to make up for five lifetimes!”

“Five lifetimes? But I’ve only lived one?”

Pepa winked, “That’s the fun of it.”

For the next twenty minutes, Luisa was floored as Tía Pepa supplied some of the best humor she’s ever experienced. 

She could barely breath by the end of it, arm holding her stomach as her toned body convulsed by laughter. 

“WHOO! Ha! T-Tía! You sure, haha, you sure can crack a joke! Heh!”

Pepa beamed, making a prideful swipe on her shoulder, “Well dear Luisa, I’m glad you find me funny. Bruno likes to say I’m as funny as a rock. But he’s just being bitter”.

“Oh definitely!” Luisa managed to gasp between chuckles, “Your a hoot!”

This obviously pleased her Aunt, who walked with an extra pep to her step as they entered the busiest part of the village. 

All around them, residents of the town waved and nodded in acknowledging. Luisa and Pepa replying with wide smiles. 

“Luisa!” Mr. Ricardo, the donkey herder, called out, “The donkeys got out again!”

Luisa moves to say ‘on it’. Feels it on her tongue, and the tensing in her muscles. 

But before she can utter a sound, her aunt is stepping in front of her, holding a hand up to pacify her. A grey cloud growing in puffy wisps. 

“Sorry Mr. Ricardo,” she replies in a subtly Icy tone, “But as you should know by now, Saturday’s are Luisa’s day off. So you’ll just have to fetch the donkeys yourself. Or invest in a sturdier fence.”

Pepa turns sharply on her heel, leaving both Luisa and Mr. Ricardo slack jawed. 
And numbly, she follows her aunt. A little dizzy from the interaction. 

“T-Tía?!” She can barely splutter out, watching as Mr. Ricardo leaves with a boggled expression, “Y-you didn’t have to do that?! Poor Ricardo looked a second away from a heart attack?!”

Tía just sniffs haughtily, “Well serves him right. Mama announced Saturdays were off limits for you weeks ago. Anyone who still bothers you deserves a wake up call.”

Luisa can’t help the bone cracking hug she gives Pepa, chest filling with overwhelming great fullness and appreciation for her aunt. 

“Lu-Isa, a…little tight?!” 

“O-oh! Sorry!” She sheepishly sets down her Tías thin frame. Wincing as she takes a large gasp of air. 

“N-no apologies necessary,” she gives a little winded smile, “I’m always happy to stand up for my Sobrina.”

Once Pepa regains her composer, they continue on their little journey. 

“Where are we going?” The young adult questions curiously. 

“Oh just over to the Garcia’s,” her aunts braid swings with each step, “I uh, er, kinda burned their flowers.”

“No!” She gasps, “Not their prized Carnelians?!” 

Tía Pepa scowls slightly, “Am I really the only person who didn’t know what type of flowers they grew?!”

Luisa attempts to appear nonchalant, “Uhhh, no? I’m pretty sure Antonio didn’t know?”

“Luisa, he’s five. He barely remembers his own birthday.”

She chooses to stay quiet. Worried a reply might irritate Pepa even further. 

A lofty sigh came from her right, “Anyway, I accidentally burned whatever you said, so I’m bringing this basket of flowers to make up for it. I do hope they aren’t too mad.”

Pepas cloud started to get darker with anxious thoughts. So Luisa placed a hopefully comforting hand on her Tías shoulder. 

“Don’t worry Tía, someone would have to be mentally ill to stay mad at you. Especially when your bringing apology flowers. I mean, who could say no to apology flowers? I sure couldn’t.”

She’s proud when this gets her aunt to crack a soft smile, clouds lessening. 

“Thank you Luisa. I’m sure your right.”

They walk only for a few more moments when a scream crashes through the street. 

“YOU!”

Both Luisa and Pepa jump. Glancing at the direction of the voice, which just so happened to belong to a very angry looking Mrs. García. 

“You!” She walks straight up and jabs a finger into Tía Pepas chest, “You burned all of our crops! Not to mention my beautiful, beautiful carnelians!”

Luisa’s eyes are wide, as the redhead splutters for all she’s worth. 

“I-I I’m sorry Mrs. García! I swear I-I wasn’t doing it on purpose? I was actually on my way over, t-to-“

-“To What?!” She cuts off harshly, throwing her hands in the air, “Burn down my house? My precious babies weren’t enough for you?”

The woman glances at Luisa, as if expecting her to agree with her. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have asked you to help out. Why bring a Weather monstruo when natural rain works just as fine!”

Her aunt flinches back at the comment, arms instinctively raising to cover her chest. 

It’s a habit her mother had whispered to Luisa, induced by some traumatic event as a kid. And popping up whenever someone laughs or insults her. 

“Hey!” Luisa yells at the elderly lady, “You just don’t get to talk to my Tía like that!”

“I’ll have you know your Tía burned down my-“

-“Yeah your prized flowers! We know! I think everyone in the town knows with how loud your yelling.”

Mrs. García is stunned she’s talking back, but Luisas not done with her. 

“I’ll have you know, that my sweet, and kind Tía was about to bring you this beautiful batch of apology flowers. Just to make good with you, and hoping you wouldn’t still be mad. But now you’ve come over and started yelling! And that’s now how my Tía should be treated! Right Tí- … uh, Tía Pepa?” 

Her Aunt is trembling. Rapidly glancing at all the eyes focused in their direction. Hands tugging rapidly on her braid. 

Luisa vaguely knows what’s happening from stories from her older sister, so she turns to glare at the woman in front of them, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Mrs. García looks genuinely surprised, a glimmer of apologies twinkling in her eye. As she probably just realizes the consequences of her actions. 

But she can’t take it back now, so with a humble nod, bows out of their space. 

Luisa is now fully focused on her aunt, panic setting in as she understands she has no idea what to do. 

“Tía? Uh Tía Pepa? Are you ok? C-can you calm down? Do you need help?”

Pepa just whimpers, taking another step back, looking like she just wants to disappear from the crowd of eyes on her. 

Luisa looks back and forth, making a snap based decision based on what she has at hand. 

“Uh, ok Tía? I’m gonna pick you up now? I’m gonna get you out of here?!”

She quickly picks up her aunt with relative ease. Throwing her over her shoulder and jogging away as fast as she could. 

She’s attempting to be gentle, but can’t help but feel like she’s jostling her poor Aunt like a sack of potatoes. 

Luisa pauses for a moment, trying to regain her thoughts, “Uh, ok ok, what did Isabella was good in this situation? Focusing? Latching? Something about being quiet?”

Rapidly, she glances around at the busy area. 

“Uhhh, this is too crowded right? You need a secluded place. L-like a field! YEAH! A field. Let’s find a field.”

She runs a bit. Locating one and plopping her Aunt down in what she’s begging a soft manner. 

“Now um, seclusion?!” The Latina looks around, spotting a nearby tools shed, “AH! A shed! A shed has walls! Walls are secluded right?!”

Logically, she should of probably just picked up Tía Pepa and placed her in the shed. But her brain was going a mile a minute and the panic setting in wasn’t helping. 

So in all her frantic glory, she all but ripped the walls out one by one. And slammed them into the earth around her aunt. Boxing Pepa in her own little seclusion shed. 

“Their!” She collapsed to the ground in front of the redhead with a proud ‘hmmph’. 
Gazing at her Tía to see if it helped at all 

The woman was staring at her with a stunned expression, still unconsciously rocking back and forth. 

“Uhh, Tía Pepa?” Luisa questioned nervously, “A-are you ok? Is this helping?”

Hands still grasping her braid, Pepa surprised Luisa by breaking out into all consuming giggles. 

At first she had thought it was sobs, face scrunching in horror at the idea of traumatizing her Aunt. But once she saw the goofy little smile on her face, that fear went away. 

“T-talk about secluded!” Pepa mumbled shakily, gesturing to the walls, “I m-mean usually people just find some small little spot. But you literally made me one. You literally dropped a house around me!”

She grinned, a little bit unsure, “Is that Um. Bad?”

“No!” Her aunt was quick to say. Shaking her head from side to side, as she continuously rocked. 

“I just find that hilarious. Which honestly seemed to be the exact thing to snap me out of my ongoing panic attack.”

“So uh, to be clear I, helped you?”

“Yes,” her tone was serious, eyes wide, “Luisa you helped me so much. Gosh I haven’t even thanked you yet.”

Luisa rubbed the back of her neck bashfully, “You don’t have to thank me.”

“No but I do,” Pepa scooted closer, one hand reaching out to touch her arm, the other firmly rooted by her hair, “Luisa. You are the only person to do what you just did. I’ve never had anyone actually pick me up and remove me from the stressful area. I doubt that would solve it every time. But it did today. And in record timing if I do say so myself. Ugh, focus Pepa. What I’m trying to say is. Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

Luisa could feel herself blush, unused to the validation she was receiving. 

“Y-your welcome.”

In the end, even though she technically wasn’t relaxing on her day off, she finds that this moment right here was worth the energy. 

It was nice to be seen for herself. For being caring. Instead of brute force. 

It was nice to know someone saw her. 

 9. Camilo 

Camilo, her sweet beautiful little child. Who was neither girl or boy. But something in between. 

She’d always suspected their was something going on with their preferred gender. Whenever he’d skirt around someone calling him a boy directly. 

They later came out an said they were non-binary. Which wasn’t a boy or girl in their case. They wanted to go by he/him they/them pronouns. As they were typically more masculine presenting naturally. But it didn’t count out his amazing feminine side. 

She could recall numerous times where they’d try on different dresses together, spinning and swaying the skirts in the wind. Laughing joyfully all the way. 

Her child could be quite a menace at times, especially with their knack for planking. However, she was glad to know that in a pinch, Camilo would be their for her. 

She didn’t expect him too. They were teen. Who should be off doing teen things. 

So the face that he’d choose to stay around and make sure she was feeling better made it all the more meaningful.

Camilo found waking up to be the most interesting, and boring thing about his day. 

Interesting, because it was the beginning of a whole new day. With new exciting activities to do. With new things to see. And people to meet. 

Boring, because it meant he was just laying there. Half asleep. And bundled comfortable in bed. With hands that twitched with pent up energy. 

It was a struggle to get out. Because the blankets were warm. And mimicked his fathers hugs. 

But their pillow was cold. Like his mother was right their in the presence. Soothing any leftover remnants of a possible nightmare with a comforting freezing touch. 

But then Camilo thought of his day once again. So with a deep breath, they’d kick off his warm blankets. And effortlessly shift into some day clothes. 

They stretched. Feeling their back pop, and bones strain. 

It was always good to stretch a little before each day. Shifting into numerous different people could really take a toll on bone dexterity. So keeping flexible was all he could do to curb any unwanted side effects. 

Camilo trotted down Casitas steps with a yawn, a little surprised at seeing everyone already up and about. 

They made a confused noise, glancing at the clock. Did they oversleep?

“Hot tamales!” He exclaimed to himself, it was nearly 1 o’clock! 
How was this possible?! 

-“Hey,” Their head swiveled, seeing sweet Tía Julieta, who had apparently noticed their plight.

“Don’t worry about the  time Sabrinx, You looked pretty tired last night so I told the family to let go sleep in.”

“Oh,” he gave her an affectionate hug, “Thanks Tía. I kinda forgot how wiped out I was.”

“Theirs some Arepas on the table if your hungry.” She left with a wink. Going off to what seemed like a permanent residence, the kitchen. 

Camilo licked his lips. Every intent on stuffing his belly. And then going out into the town. Their was a special prank they had in mind. That would definitely result in some hilarious antics. 

-“PEPA!” A familiar voice shrieked, breaking his reverie, “YOU HAVE A CLOUD?!”

They winced, glancing around until their found their Abuela. Who was yelling yet again at his poor Mama. 

Pepa Madrigal indeed had a cloud, it was big and dark, crackling with lightening. 

Camilo frowned, quietly eating their Arepa. 
If his Abuela just took the time to really learn what his Mothers weather really meant, 
she’d know lightening meant anxiety. 
And that Pepa required patience and kindness. Not criticism. 

“I KNOW MAMA!” The redhead tugged at her hair in exasperation, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked! And your still upset?! What do you want from me?!”

“Your weather will make everyone in town miserable! Today’s been productive; but if you keep this up it will rain out for days!” Alma stated with a cross expression.  

Camilos mother whimpered, frantically shoving one hand into her bangs, the other tugging and dragging down her braid. 

“I-I can’t change it right now Mama!” She tried to say. 

Apparently Abuela didn’t like this, “What are you saying, of course you can! Remember! Clear skies!”

Immediately Pepa burst into a round of desperate ‘Clear skies.’ Clouds becoming larger and winds picking up as her anxiety increased. 

With a final ‘Get it together!’ Abuela left. Off to ‘help’ someone else. 
Leaving poor Mami all alone to try in vain and get her emotions in check. 

Repressed was more like it. Camilo thought bitterly. And all possibilities of pulling a prank went out of the window, as soon as they saw the angry shameful tears well in Mamas eyes. 

No way was he going to leave their mother like this!

He grimaced, pushing his plate away and cracking his neck. 

Good child mode, activate!

“Tía Julieta!” 

His aunt turned at the call, looking at them in question. Camilo just gently pointed at their mom. 

“Mama needs some of her special tea. Can you make that while I get her situated?”

Julietas eyes bugged out at the site of her hysterical sister, nodding rapidly, “Yes, yes, don’t worry Cami I’m on it. Just get her to stop pulling on her hair.”

They made a two fingered salute before heading in Pepas direction. 

“Mami?” He spoke gently, not wanting to spook her. 

“Oh! Camilo!” Their mother took a second to try and look like everything was ok. Failing miserably as hot tears gushed past her lashes. 

“I c-can’t,” she stuttered painfully, waving at them with her hands, “Y-you should go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No Mami it’s ok,” Camilo rushed to their mother’s aid, placing a hand on her back, “Shhh, let’s just head up to your room ok? Doesn’t that sound good? Your room with the nice interchangeable weather?”

Pepa nodded miserably, taking a long shuddering breath, “M-my room s-sounds good.”

He then held his hand up close, knowingly glancing at her with kind eyes. 

“Firstly Mama, I need you to let go. Of your hair that is.”

Their mom looked at her hair, then back at him with wide eyes. Shaking her head slightly.

“I c-can’t.”

“Yes you can,” Camilo urged with an ever gentle voice, “You can do it Mama. Just take my hand. And we’ll go up and go to your favorite rocking chair ok? You won’t even have to crouch on the floor. The chair can do all the rocking for you. How does that sound?”

The Latina trembled, nodding even as she gave a few more hearty tugs to her hair. 

They moved a hand on top of hers, stopping her from yanking any more.

“Please,” he begged, “Just take my hand.”

With a a choked sob, she relinquished her vice like grip, instead transferring it to Camilos skinny fingers. 

They forced themself not to flinch at the rapidly cold touch. Knowing it would only make his mama spiral even more. 

“Come on Mama. Let’s go get nice and settled.” The teen crooned softly. 

Pepa gave another frantic nod, before taking some stiff jerky steps forward. 

It took a bit, but Camilo was patient, guiding their mother upstairs too their door. Where she could safely let go without putting people at risk. 

He nudged the door open with a foot, letting their Mami walk in first. And quickly following behind. 

The room offered a familiar presence, comforting even to him. With its raindrop wallpaper and numerous assorted weather tools and gadgets. 
But Camilo wasn’t the one in need of soothing, his mother was. 

“Just a few more steps,” they whispered, “Your doing so great. Look theirs your chair.”

The chair, lovingly adorned with weather carvings, rocked in question. Seemingly excited to help out its respective owner. 

Pepa collapsed into said chair, backing up as far as she could. Fingers indenting into the armrests with battered nails. Curling into the stinted wood. 

Camilo winced just looking at it, imagining the sharp prick of splinters getting shoved under the quick. 

He moved to her side, gently moving the furniture till it was rocking back and forth. Making sure it was the correct speed their Mama usually liked. 

“Shhh, it’s ok now. Your in your chair. Just take a deep breath. It’s all going to be ok.”

Pepa tried to relax her lungs, but her chest still trembled from the force of her anxiety. 

The quick knock at her door did not help anything. Her head making an audible crack as it swiveled to glare at the noise. 

“Hey don’t worry, it’s just probably Tía with your Tea.” Camilo was quick to placate. Moving slowly and cautiously to the entrance. 

They opened the door quickly, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Aunt Julieta. 

“How’s she doing?” She questioned nervously, teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

He shrugged sheepishly, “She …uh, could be better? I got her to stop the hair pulling if that helps.”

“It does.” Although their aunt didn’t look completely convinced, handing him the tea with shaky fingers, “I’ll have to have a word with Mama. She should of known not to push Pepa like that.”

Camilo nodded, “Uh thanks for the tea. Good luck with that.”

“You’ll call me if she gets worse? Or starts danger stimming again?” She made blazing eye contact. Daring them to break it. 

“Of course,” he nodded rapidly, “Definitely. Absolutely. Uh, yes!”

“Good.”

She left without another word. Though Camilo didn’t blame her. If their sister Dolores was getting overwhelmed, he wouldn’t be a person of many words either. 

With that done, he returned to his mother’s room. Holding out the tea like a peace offering. 

“Here you go Mama. Tía made you that nice relaxing tea you love. Just try and take a deep breath, ok?”

Pepa nodded, lungs straining as she forced herself to take a slow breath in. 

“Their you go, here, here’s your tea, your doing great, “ Camilo kept a grasp on the cup, knowing their mother’s rapidly shaking hands would spill it everywhere, “That’s it. In and out. Your doing great.”

Their mama took a sip of the warm liquid. Movement’s stilling as it traveled down her throat. 

She stayed frozen for a bit. Nearly scaring Camilo in the process. Until she grasped at the cup hungrily. Downing half of it in on go. 

“Whew, ha, wow. That’s. That’s good tea.” she panted heavily, pushing the cup to the side. Camilo obediently setting it down on the table next to her.

“Mama? Are you, better?” He questioned hesitantly.

She looked up, eyes still glossy with unshed tears. Pepa didn’t bother wiping them away when they fell. Just let them dribble down in a silent stream. 

“I’m fi-“ the Latina broke off. Casting a shamefully look at the ground. 

They quickly moved to entwine one of her hands in his. Showing support anyway he could. 

“I’m not fine.” 

Her voice was a hushed whisper, looking back at him bracingly. As if she expected them to retaliate negatively. 

He smiled gently, “That’s ok Mama. You don’t always have to be fine y’a know? It’s good to feel your emotions.”

“Not me,” she shook her head, “I can’t. I have to be whatever the town needs.”

Camilo frowned, crouching down, never letting go of their mother’s hand. 

“We’ll… that’s what Abuela says to you. But what if I had the gift of weather instead? Would you want me to force myself to be whatever the town wants…? Constantly repress my own emotions? Kill myself in the process?”

Pepa flinched, “Of course not. I’d never ask you to do that.”

“Then why are you asking yourself to do the same?”

His Mamas breath stilted. Genuinely stumped. 

Well. She wasn’t really stumped. They both knew the reason why. 

Abuela.

“You are your own person, Mama,” they expressed calmly, “Abuela can’t control what you feel anymore. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through this every time you get even the tiniest bit of sad. It’s hurting you.”

The redhead nodded. But didn’t reply. Just leaning into her kids shoulder. 

Camilo hugged her tenderly. Happy that she was at least accepting the information. 

Trauma and pain like this didn’t just leave in an instant. 

It took time. 

But at least they could be their, and help her through it.

[hey. Little authors note. I know Pepa doesn’t end up 100% better at the end Of Camilos part. But I wanted to show that sometimes. A person just isn’t ok. They go through the motions. And at the end their still not ok. Their still not better. And that is ok. Its ok not to be fine. It’s ok to struggle with things. Getting over pain. And getting over trauma is a huge thing. And sometimes it doesn’t all end in rainbows and sparkles. Some days are hard. Like the one I just wrote. And I don’t know who needs to see or read this. But it’s ok not to be fine. You are valid. You are allowed to have breakdowns. Your allowed to cry! I feel like a lot of times in movies they show everyone getting their happily ever after. But that isn’t real life. You don’t just sing a song and move one. It takes time and effort and pain and struggles. Pepa is struggling through anxiety and depression and so many freaking years of generational trauma. But it shows a lot that if someone takes the time to be their with you. Help you through it. It makes the pain just a bit more bearable. 
Uhhh idk. Sorry ahem. That was my little authors note. Uh back to the fanfic]

 10. Mirabel

Pepa thought of Mirabel as a surprise. A good one of course. 
She was always full of surprises. 

When you felt like no one was understanding you. Or just felt generally off. She’d pop up out of no where. And somehow find a way to cheer you up. 

Mirabel was a surprise. But a good one. 

“Annnnnd Done!”  Mirabel sat back on her bed. Pleased with the task she just finished. 

She had been making an early birthday present for Tía Pepa. And even though the triplets birthday wasn’t until a few more months, she didn’t see the harm in making them ahead of time. 

It was hand made, and a bit unusual. But Mirabel hoped her aunt found it useful. And if not, she was still really pleased with her attempt. 

She decided she still wanted to add a few finishing details. Sliding the gift into a hand sewn pocket on her skirt. 

Today, the Madrigal household was holding a luncheon. It wasn’t a huge party per say, more so a picnic outing for the town. 

People had been under a lot of stress recently, and the semi spontaneous plan had been unwaveringly agreed on. Deciding that people needed something to cheer and celebrate for. Even if technically their wasn’t anything to celebrate. 

Mirabel found it fun, it meant hanging out with more people, and having even more of a variety of her moms amazing food then usual. 

“Mirabelllll!” Came the knowing tone of Julieta Madrigals voice, “People will be here soon, and I need some help with these tables!”

“Coming!” She chimed back, putting away the rest of her supplies and heading downstairs. 

The thought of why Luisa couldn’t just help out briefly crossed her mind, but Mirabel quickly shut it down. 
The family had been making a huge effort to not immediately think of Luisa when a task needed to be done. As her older sister was  desperately overdue for some relaxation time. 

Or at least some of the ‘Surface pressure’ being taken off her shoulders. 

Mirabel loved her older sister, and it pleased her greatly to see her muster a smile that reached her eyes for the first time in ages. 

Not long had past before she made it downstairs, stealing and inhaling an Arepa from the kitchen before meeting her mom outside. 

“What’s up mom?” She questioned quirkily, gazing at the Sunny day and crisp grass. 

“I’ve set some tables up over their,” Julieta pointed to a couple stray pieces a around the corner, “And I need you to start arranging plates and party favors on top of them. Someone will bring you some more. I’m pretty sure theirs still a couple boxes left were retrieving from the attic.”

Mirabel grinned, loving that she was giving a task where she could show of some of her talents. Specifically being creative and setting things up in a fun and interesting way. 

“Ok Mama, is that all?”

“That should be all for now.” Her mother murmured, looking a little anxious as she said so. 

Mirabel caught her gaze, smiling a little wider for emphasis, “Don’t worry Mama! This will all turn out ok. I just know it.”

Julieta softened, gazing at her with such adoration and Love, “Aw my dulce cariño, how did you get to be so kind?”

“We’ll you know what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She smiled cheekily, watching her mom roll her eyes fondly. 

“Oh you, you flatter me.” Her mama chucked her affectionately, before pulling her into a quick hug, “Now go, before people start to arrive.”

“Aye yi captain!” Mirabel gave a two fingered salute, scampering over to where a couple tables laid side by side. 

Their was already a couple things pulled out, but inside some considerately placed boxes were tons more plates and utensils. 
Basically all the stuff you’d need for a town cookout. 

She mused that the decorations would be in an arriving box, eager to start working on the best arrangements. 

In the meantime, Mirabel absentmindedly hummed a tune, as she stacked plates and sorted through forks and knifes.  

A few moments later and she heard the telltale sound of someone approaching. Due to the extra clutter, she assumed it the assigned person being over the extra boxes from the attic. 

Her head swiveled, adjusting her glasses and brightening at the passerby.

“Hello Tía Pepa!” 

“Oh!” Her aunt jolted from behind three stacked boxes, “H-Hi Sobrina. These are the boxes your mama sent.”

“Gracias, I assumed just as likely.” Mirabel flashed a smile. Pausing briefly when Pepa didn’t return one. 

In fact, her Tía wasn’t even looking at her. Just kinda gazing ahead. 

She turned to see what she could be looking at, frowning when she saw nothing of importance.

Mirabel would have to do this gently, “Tía?-“

-“HUH?! Wha- oh sorry Mirabel were you saying something?” The redhead jolted out of her little glaze. Now returning the stare with an uncomfortable amount of intensity. 

“Uhhh, n-no just thanking you for the boxes,” she mumbled, attempting a fake grin and pointing out the boxes for emphasis, “Y’a know… the ones in your hands you haven’t put down yet.”

“Oh! Uh S-sorry s-sorry. Here you go.” Her aunt hastily set down the boxes. Looking to Mirabel for what she assumed was approval in some way?

It was all definitely striking her as odd, but a quick check showed nothing but a few wisps of clouds. 

So whatever was bothering Tía must have been very subtle. Or very repressed. And both options were hard for her to stomach. 

Mirabel half expected her aunt to leave, after dropping off the boxes. But instead she started opening them. Carefully taking out then contents. Which was some leftovers streamers and overall party favors from one of their many Madrigal parties. 

Tía Pepa must have caught her staring, “Uh you don’t might right? I just thought I could help here…instead of back their.”

“Oh no, no problem Tía. More the merrier.”
She made sure to give what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Knowing that was what helped Pepa more then others. 

Mirabel slowly started to unpack things as well. Carefully stealing glances at her aunt. 

Their was definitely something off about her, as shown when the red head would sneak a tug to her braid when she thought Mirabel wasn’t looking. 

But from years of observation and experience. Mira also knew that her aunt was defensive. And unless she was visibly a complete mess, she’d deny her true feelings to the end. 

It wasn’t great. And she pretty much knew for a fact it was a side effect from growing up how she did. Heck, they still sent her to the spine tingling fields. A place her mama has mentioned horror stories delve from. 

If Mirabel was going to find out what was wrong. She’d have to be subtle about it. And extremely calm. Her Tía was like a magnet of fear and anxiety, she could be pick up the slightest tinge of worry, and feed on it. Clouds increasing dramatically with her heightened mood. 

“So Tía,” she struck up casually, “What’s my Mama and everyone else doing back their?”

“Oh just setting up tables. Creating guests. The normal.”

Brief enough to curb emotions, long enough to deflect suspicion. 
Tía Pepa knew what she was doing. 

“We’ll how do you feel about that?” 

Pepa shot her a confused glance, “Why does it matter?”

Mirabel backtracked, “Uh no reason just wondering.”

What bothered her was how confused her aunt truly seemed by the question. It wasn’t from suspicion, she truly didn’t understand why her personal feelings would matter about a subject. 

That didn’t sit right with her. Not at all.

“We’ll I just mean,” the glasses clad girl continued, despite how close she was toying the line, “I’ve been trying to be more in touch with my inner mind. Something I picked up from Isa. So like. Finding out how other people feel, err, helps with that?”

Wow she was horrible on the spot. No one in their right mind would believe her-

-“Oh. Well then I feel fine then. If that helps.”

Apparently no one except sleep deprived aunts who were desperately trying to deflect. 

Mirabel gave an uneasy smile, “That’s great. But fine is kind of a broad term if you know what I mean. Like theirs fine in a ‘I woke up like this’ fine, and then theirs a fine in a ‘I just stepped on a nail’ but I’m fine, fine. And then theirs a-“

-“I’m fine Mirabel.” Tía Pepa snapped. Quickly running a hand through her bangs to calm herself. 

Mirabel felt her jaw snap shut. Every sign telling her to be quiet. Practically screaming at her not to push her Aunt. And not risk getting struck by lightning.  

But something was definitely bugging her familia. And as much as she wanted to leave it be. The fact her Tía was struggling with something tugged at her consciousness, until she could leave it be no more. 

“No but how do you really feel about it?!” 

“Mirabel!” Her aunts face twisted defensively, “Leave it be! I told you I’m fine!”

“But your clearly not?!” She gestured to Pepas braid, then the rapidly growing cloud above them, “You came here for a reason and I just want to help!”

“I came here because I needed to escape my Mama and everyone around us, and I assumed my niece wouldn’t bug me and leave me be. Clearly I was wrong!”

The redhead took a deep breath, pinching the brow of her nose. 

The silence was echoing. And she probably assumed her comment had shut up Mirabel. But it had only doubled her concerns. Only made her even more worried. 

She made sure to whisper, gave her Tía that mercy.

“Why would you need to escape from Abuela.”

Tía Pepa sighed, glancing at Mirabel wearily. Rubbing her temples, before switching over to her braid. Stroking it softly. 

“Mama, or Abuela in your case, can be a bit, erm, much,” Pepa made a face and checked behind her, as if expecting Abuela to appear out of thin air, “Often times, during big parties like this, she can, uh, overlook some needs. Of people.”

Mirabel nodded understandingly, “What were your needs?”

Her Tía flinched. Maybe that question was to blunt for her. 

“People,” she stated meekly, contradicting Miras previous thoughts, and looking down in embarrassment, “T-too many people. I-I tried to ask to leave for a second. To get my bearings. But all Mama could focus on was making a good image for the Madrigals. Our presence was mandatory!”

Tìa Pepa sighed again, looking as if she had the weight of a thousand years on her shoulders. 

“But then again. Why should I expect anything else. It’s been like this my whole life.”

Mirabel frowned, “I’m sorry Tía, that must be, beyond frustrating.”

“It is,” and in a sharp gesture of anger, she exploded loudly, “but I TOLD HER. I told her what she was doing!! In the Familia room a while ago and I thought she understood. She said she was sorry. She seemed to get it. But then she didn’t?! She’s still doing this. And, ohh, all those people.”

Her aunt took a wavering step back, Mirabels hands rising on instinct. Worriedly glancing at the rapidly changing wind speed. 

“All those people. All those people staring at me. What if they laugh. What if they start whispering?! What if I can’t hear them but Dolores can and she doesn’t tell me because she doesn’t want me to worry. But I do anyways cause now my precious baby is being assaulted by words and suffering in silence. But ‘Clear skies Pepa!’ People are watching! Represent the Madrigal name! Quiet hands! No chanting. Cause we’re in public! Act like your sister!”

It was clear her aunt was spiraling. 
Pacing in a circle and spilling many self deprecating things Mirabel bet she didn’t want her to know.
Hands firmly rooted by her braid. Enunciating each word with a painful yank.

“Tía! Tía!” She called uselessly, trying to snap her aunt out of her Anxiety cycle. 

But it all fell on deaf Ears. Pepa’s rant only increasing, along with her darkening clouds. 

Quickly running out of options, Mirabel dug her hand into her pocket, pulling the gift she had previously wanted to give on her Tías birthday. Feeling as if this situation took priority. 

“Tía!” She yelled, startling her Aunt silent for mere moment. 

Mirabel rapidly reached up, knowing she had limited time. Steadying Pepa, and grabbing her hand, pulling away from her braid. 

With the other, she lifted up the gift close to the Latinas face.

“Don’t question, just bite down. It will help.” She stated as clearly as she could. 

Pepa was moderately confused, but considering Mirabel wouldn’t let her tug at her braid, it was pretty easy to persuade. 

A lot of her panicked motions stopped afterwards, face contorting at she explored the foreign object with her teeth. 

Mirabel waited with bated breath, curious piqued as to if her gift worked, and if it was holding up. 

A few moments passed, Tías face not changing, but the winds dying down and clouds nearly dissipating encouraged Mira. 

Slowly, Pepa reached up and took out the object, staring at it curiously.

“W-what am I chewing?”

“I-it’s a stim necklace!” Mirabel offered, just a tad nervous, “I melted rubber, gum paste, and some sand together to make a small thing you could bite on when you get overwhelmed. I know you like pulling on your braid or biting your hand, but those are kinda harmful. So I thought I’d make you something that isn’t. Something you could chew without consequences.”

Pepas eyes widened, staring at the affectionately raindrop shaped object. 

“Oh!” Maribel rummaged through her pocket, pulling out a string, “Sorry! String must have come off. Err, just let me take that.”

She quickly took the dexterous piece, looping the string through. And with a little showy wavy, hung the necklace around Tías neck. 

“I know it’s not much, I feel bad cause it was going to be your birthday gift, and I was going to add some make designs to the-UGHD!”

Mirabel was promptly cut off by a swift hug, Tía Pepas cold hands squeezing tight. 

“Thank you Mirabel,” she whispered, “This is one the most thoughtful things someone’s done for me.”

The girl blushed, “A heh, it was nothing you don’t have to-“

“No seriously,” Pepa pushed back, still keeping her niece in her grasp, “This is genuinely amazing. Thank you so much. I’m literally going to wear this everywhere now.”

Mirabel beamed, “I’m glad you liked it, uh, happy early birthday?”

Her Tía let out a round of loud infectious laughter, all clouds disappearing, and the sun shining bright. 

“Why thank you Sabrina. I’m excited to brag to my siblings I got my gift early.”

“We’ll don’t count out something extra when your birthday comes!” She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. Even though she had nothing planned. 

Her aunt quirked an eyebrow, “Wow two presents for my birthday? Mirabel you sure are full of surprises.”

A smile ghosted her lips, “A surprise indeed.”

 11. Antonio 

And finally. Not one to be left out. Her sweet little boy. Her little Tonito. With his larger then life personality and head full of his fathers curls. 

Her little boy wasn’t old enough to completely understand. Didn’t completely understand why his Mama and Sister acted different. She wasn’t even sure if he knew they were different. 

It’s what she loves about him most. He never sees anyone as any different. Doesn’t think of them as that, even if they act a certain way. 

He looks at life with wide eyes, and a compassionate heart. And even though he doesn’t completely understand, he knows to be quieter around Dolores. And grabs Pepas hand if she starts to get anxious. 

Her sweet, kind, darling little boy. 

Antonio was excited, his animal friends were going to try and get his little body to fly!

Like actually fly!

All the birds were gonna attach to his arms and back. And with that many wings it just had to work right? 

He hasn’t heard of a more foolproof plan then that!

“Tonitoooo!” His Mami called out, “It’s time for dinner my little animal man!”

He frowned, “But Mami! I was about to go flying!”

“You can fly another time mi precioso! But dinner is ready and we can’t start without you!”

“Ok! I’m coming!” The boy called out with a smile. Instantly invigorated at the thought of eating some yummy food. 

Antonio looked around, holding a hand up and whistling, “Jagged!”

Seconds later a bold and stunning Jaguar came out of the bushes, sweeping Antonio into the air and catching him on his back. Galloping down the tree towards Casitas kitchen. 

“Faster!” He giggled, “Rapido!!!”

His laugher and squeals of delight echoed through the house, until eventually he came to a calm and collective stop by the kitchen. 

Getting off the Jaguar, Antonio gave Jagged a thankful scratch behind his ear. The animal itself heading back upstairs to his door. 

“Tonito! So glad you could make it!”

Antonio turned to grin at his Mama. Showing off all his baby pearly whites. 

That is, until, he got a good look at her face. 

You see this is where Antonio sometimes got confused. 

Adults often said one thing, and meant another. In what Mami had so sweetly called ‘Sar casm’. 

But what did it mean when your face said one thing. And your voice the other?

Cause Mamis voice sounded delightful and cheery. But her smile looked fake. And her hands kept twitching. Hovering near her hair. 

“Mami?” He questioned in confusion, “Are you uh, being ‘Sar casm?”

Pepa made a face, “Do..you mean sarcastic? No Cariño, I’m not? I’m happy that your here.”

“But why is your face like this?” He used his fingers to force a smile on his own face for demonstration. Keeping his eyes sad and dull. 

The Latinas eyes bugged slightly, quickly scooping him off the floor into a tight hug.  

“Please do not point that out right now Tonito,” she whispered pleadingly into his ear, “I’m trying my best to make a smile, as we have company. And it’s a bit hard. So that’s why. But please keep quiet about that? Ok? Can you do that please?”

He gave a small, hopefully secretive, nod from where he was pressed against his mother’s chest. Leaning his head on her shoulder. 

“Ok then. Thank you little one.”  She put on her fake smile again. Walking further into the kitchen. 

What soon began was the most uncomfortable dinner Antonio’s ever been in. Even more then when the house grew cracks. 

And that was saying something. 

Sat next to his Mami, he could see everyone’s fake smiles, especially the grownups. 

He thinks he knew the cause, as Mami had mentioned company to him earlier.  

Tonight they had a guest for dinner, Señorita Lopez. A friend of Abuela’s. 

From what he’s heard, they’ve been friends for a long time. And Mami, Tío Bruno, and Tía Julieta had each known her when they were kids. 

Now he wasn’t sure why people weren’t saying anything, but he could spot a meanie from far away. 

Except he thinks she’s a meanie, she’s been saying things that definitely aren’t nice, but the family keeps smiling fake smiles and nodding as if it’s ok. 

So maybe theirs a type of meanie that can get away with being mean as long as it’s dinner time? Or maybe they get a free pass if their friends of Abuela. 

Either way. Antonio doesn’t like it. 

“Oh ho ho!” Miss Lopez chuckles after Abuela finishes a story, “Your children were always so reckless Alma! Especially Pepa! Remember when you got so upset at that one kids birthday party? It nearly flooded the town!”

His Mama blushes fiercely, habitually covering her chest with her arms, sputtering out a response. 

“U-Uh y-yes. I felt horrible about that for days.”

“What was the kids name again?” The woman’s eyes sparkle with delight. Something that doesn’t seem appropriate whatsoever. 

Mama trembles slightly, “F-Fèlix. As in my husband.”

Papas face is stern, taking Mami’s hand in his.

“And that was forgiven long ago Mi La Vida. So theirs no point in talking about it.” His gaze lingers on the ‘guest’.  Making his point crystal clear. 

Señorita Lopez giggles awkwardly, seemingly not seeing everyone’s passive aggressive glare. 

Antonio stuck his tongue out when she wasn’t looking. He didn’t like anyone who embarrassed his mama. And from everyone’s secret glances. They didn’t either. 

“Well, it was a memorable night, that’s all. Oh! Just like when little Bruno had that cacophony of visions that one day? In the market?”

Abuela clears her throat, “Cynthia if we could maybe talk about something else-“

“Oh! So much sand everywhere!” The woman is painstakingly oblivious, cutting off his grandmother, “The poor village. Everyone was slipping on the stuff. And Little Julieta could barely keep up with the injuries. If I had the gift of healing. I’d keep an emergency stash for times like that.”

Both his Tía and Tío blushed, shrinking in on themselves. 

Tío Agustiń place a hand on his aunts arm, as she began to speak up in a very low voice. 

“I was six, Señorita Lopez,” she mumbled, “I hadn’t exactly known that would happen.”

“Oh no, that’s what your brothers for!” The lady cast Antonio’s uncle a teasing glance. 

It was not the fun type of teasing, where siblings laughed and chased around. But one that made Tío look all sad and small. 

“I-I was six too,” he stuttered out, “And if i had known that would happen I’d have told someone.”

“Oh most definitely!” Lady Cynthia then winked. Breaking into a small fit of giggles. 

When she realized no one else was laughing, her laughter died down, a small frown appearing. 

“Alma? You’d think this house would a bit more humor in them don’t you? I mean their your family.”

Abuela winced, “Well to be frank Cynthia, I haven’t exactly heard a joke yet.”

This stunned the woman into a brief silence. Which only lapsed for a few moments until a loud squeak was heard. 

People shifted to look at Antonio’s sister, who squeaked again and mumbled a meek ‘Sorry!’  

Antonio didn’t think much of it, Dolores squeaked all the time, so it wasn’t anything new. 

But Señorita Lopez must have thought it was interesting, for she keep eye contact for what seemed like hours. His sister letting out a few strangled squeaks under the pressure. 

“Are you alright Dolores?” She eventually asked. 

“Y-yes Miss L-Lopez. S-sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I just Um, do that sometimes.”

“Huh, you don’t say,” she’s glancing at Mami, seemingly making some type of connection, “Your Mama used to do things like that as well. You really shouldn’t copy your mothers mistakes, no one finds it funny when a Lady behaves like a buffoon. It’s quite rude indeed.”

Dolores whimpers, face absolutely burning, “Y-Yes m-ma’am.”

Camilo takes their sisters hand under the table. Drawing circles on her palm to sooth her. 

In an instant, Cynthias gaze is on Pepa, Mama letting out a squeak herself on contact. 

“Pepa,” she scolds, “You really shouldn’t tolerate such behavior. It’s shameful!”

Mama is quivering. And Antonio can see her mouth moving. But no sound comes out. 

That’s when Papa steps in, wrapping a protective arm around Mamas waist and glaring at the intruder. 

“Excuse me Señorita, but that is my daughter your talking too. And my wife your insulting. I will say what’s good behavior for my children. And no, its not a mistake, or rude, or shameful whatsoever. It’s how Pepa and Dolores were born. And I Love them just the same. And I’d expect you to apologize to them immediately.”

Cynthia gasps, gazing at Abuela, “Alma?! Don’t you think their being a tad bit overdramatic.”

“Actually no,” Abuela cuts in, “You’ve been very rude to my family tonight Cynthia. I advice you apologize.”

“Oh really!” The woman makes a show of gesturing to the table, “Well no ones said anything. They’ve all been perfectly happy and smiling.”

“Well that’s cause it’s fake!” Antonio pipes up. 

Theirs a chorus of ‘Oooos’!’ That immediately follows. (Mainly from Camilo and Mirabel. But Antonio doesn’t look at them)

The elder stares at him with a frown, “And who might you be, thinking you can say that?”

“I’m Antonio Madrigal!” He says with as much confidence as he can muster, “And no one said things cause their smiles are fake! 
I don’t get it. Cause I know Adults can sometimes say one thing and mean another. And that’s Sar Casm. 
B-but Mami said this wasn’t that. So I don’t get it. Cause you’ve been a meanie! Y-you’ve been saying meanie things, and making people all small and sad. A-and meanies can’t do that! 
But their must be some rule where meanies can be mean as long as it’s dinner. Or your friends with my Abuela. 
But your wrong! Dolo isn’t rude! She’s the best sister ever! And I love my Mami! She doesnt make mist-takes.! 
So, so you should just be really quiet. So Dolo and Mami don’t haveta hear you!”

Theirs a round of cheers when he’s done. Papa giving him a proud look. 

“Tell em like it is Brotha!” Camilo hollers with a snap of his fingers. 

Cynthia is astounded, gazing at Abuela. 

“A-Alma y-you-“

“He’s right,” she muses with a smile, “You’ve been a meanie all night. And when I invited an old friend here, I expect nothing but the sweetest behavior. I’m sad to see I was wrong in inviting you. I think it’s best you leave now Cynthia.”

The woman gasps standing up, “Why I never!”

“Oh and Cynthia?” 

The elder pauses, as if expecting an apology. 

Abuela scowls, “You better apologize before you leave. Casita doesn’t take nicely to someone who doesn’t apologize.”

Señorita scowls, “Fine. Sorry for whatever this night was.”

She storms out without another word. The family’s cheering only increasing her rage. 

Abuela looks at her with a disgruntled gaze, “Good riddance.”

Antonio feels himself tossed into the air, landing safely in his Mamis safe embrace.

“Oh Tonito,” she whispers, voice cracking like she’s crying, “Thank you my precious sweet boy.”

“Mami?” He pushes back, wiping away stray tears with his tiny hands, “Why are you crying? Did I make you sad?”

Pepa gives a watery grin, “Oh Coriño, Lo siento. I’m not sad. I’m happy.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because of the love I feel. Because I’m so great full I have a son like you in my life,” she gazes around with a fond expression, “I have a really amazing family.”

Antonio grins, “The Madrigals are awesome!”

Pepa smiles back, “We sure are.”

[Authors note, WOW GUYS. I actually managed to do this. This was literally the longest single chapter fan fiction I have ever written. It feels nearly impossible that I did it. And I’m hella nostalgic even though I just finished. 

It might be a hot sec before I write another fic. 

Or maybe not. Idk. Pepa angst is come and go.]

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