Work Text:
You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
After that day at the grave, there has been a lot of talking.
Really.
A lot .
Mirabel doesn't think she has any right to complain since she is usually the one most vocal when it comes to advocating for better communication. Especially now that the whole family has realized that not talking to each other was actually the root of all of their problems.
Talking is good. Talking is healthy.
But when the talking is actually centered around herself? Her feelings and her fears and her insecurities? Mirabel suddenly finds herself not so eager anymore.
And can you blame her? It's bad enough that the whole family witnessed her little breakdown. Having to talk about it on top of that? Yikes!
But her family seems determined to help her through her issues and no matter how uncomfortable these conversations sometimes make her, the knowledge that her family loves her and wants to help her is enough for Mirabel to take a deep breath and let them all in.
And some of those conversations are a lot more than just a little uncomfortable.
Like this one.
Her parent's room has the perfect temperature for Julieta's herbs to grow without issues. Not too cold and not too warm.
Nonetheless, Mirabel can't help but feel like the air is heavy around them. Warm and sticky. Which, full disclosure, might have more to do with Abuela and her father than with any magical temperature regulation.
The two of them sit on the couch in front of Mirabel, side by side. They sit very close but have not once looked at each other ever since they ushered Mirabel into the room a few minutes ago.
It's a familiar sight by now, this tense air between the two of them. Polite but distant. Like two strangers afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and setting the other off and at the same time just waiting for the other to say or do the wrong thing so they can finally go off.
Mirabel is aware that things between them have pretty much always been like this. It's not a well kept secret that Abuela and her papa don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. But she also knows that it has gotten worse after her ceremony and she knows that the tension has reached even bigger heights after Casita's fall.
It's nothing out of the ordinary. A lot of things have gotten worse after her ceremony. Mirabel is not stupid, she knows that.
Okay, maybe Mirabel is a tiny bit stupid after all. Because why else would she bring up the tension between her grandmother and her father during a heart to heart with her mother? And why else could she, after her mama had asked for clarification, think of nothing else to say except:
"But that's my fault too, isn't it?"
Which… had not gone over well, to say the least.
So now here they are. Abuela, her papa and Mirabel.
Talking.
Again.
"Miraboo, the tension between Abuela and me never had anything to do with you."
Mirabel wants to nod and say "I know Papa, I understand". But that's the drawback of a family that communicates now: They actually listen and they actually know when you are lying.
But luckily, that goes both ways.
So instead of agreeing she crosses her arms and raises a skeptical eyebrow. And just like he always does when he is caught in a lie, her papa winces.
"Well, not entirely. Her obvious cold shoulder towards you after your ceremony didn't help of course."
Alma clenches her fists, but stays silent. Agustin has become braver over the last few months. He speaks his mind more and while that has done wonders to clear the air about a lot of things, there are also moments like these, when it's obvious that Alma wishes he'd keep his thoughts to himself.
"Our problems started before you were even born, Mirabel."
"Why?"
"Well…" Alma hesitates. She tries to think of a way to say what she wants to say without actually saying it. But they promised to be honest during these talks. That's the number one rule everyone could agree on. "I didn't exactly approve of your mother marrying your father."
Mirabel is immediately on the defensive.
The fact that her father looks resigned instead of as indignant as Mirabel feels only adds fuel to the fire.
"Why?" she spats. "What was wrong with him?"
She comes on strong, maybe too strong. But while Luisa might be the designated and acknowledged Papa's girl of the family, Mirabel has always felt very protective of her papa. Of him and Tio Felix both. The only other non-magical people in this family before Abuelo Pedro rejoined them. If they didn't have each other's backs, who would?
"N-Nothing was wrong with him. I just…it's just that I always saw your mother with someone… else."
"With whom?" Mirabel narrows her eyes. She loves her Abuela, but every time she is reminded of her big sister and the loveless marriage she almost agreed to out of obligation and pressure, something hot and fierce seems to boil in her stomach. "Was it another matchmaking? Like you did with Isa and Mariano?"
"No! No, there were boys that were obviously interested in your mother, but no one in particular. Your mother and your father got closer when they were 16, I didn't… I wouldn't have… not when she was still so young…"
Alma finally looks at Agustin, obviously asking for help. Mirabel thinks that the man would be well within his rights to let her flounder a bit longer.
But her Papa is too good for that. He takes his daughter's hand and rubs his thumb over the back of it in soothing circles.
"Calmate, Mirabel. Don't bite your grandmother's head off." Mirabel chuckles and she can see some of the tension leave Alma's shoulders. "As you know, my family joined the Encanto when I was 14. We were looking for a new home and stumbled upon this paradise. When your mother and I got close, we were still very much considered outsiders among the villagers."
Mirabel glances at her grandmother who is barely able to keep her gaze. "So you didn't approve because you considered him an outsider? "
Something about that makes her chest tight. Something about that just feels so… nasty .
Abuela shakes her head and opens her mouth. Agustin beats her to it.
"No, Mirabel, please don't think that. Your Abuela was always the most welcoming, never treating me or my family differently. She even let us live in Casita the first few weeks. Which she probably regrets now, because that's how your mother and I became friends and later more."
His tone suggests that he is joking, but Alma still shakes her head and whispers "I don't regret that."
Either Agustin hasn't heard her or he is choosing to ignore it. Either way, he continues with a soft smile.
"I do think the fact that we were not from here played a part in why your grandmother didn't approve, but not in the way you think."
"What do you mean?"
"My family wasn't there when the Encanto was born. They weren't there when your Abuela and everyone else was chased through the night, afraid for their lives and watching loved ones die. My family didn't lose anyone, didn't lose anything."
Mirabel stares at her father, as does her grandmother. The old woman's hands are shaking and without thinking Mirabel reaches out her free hand to grasp one of them.
"We hadn't been touched by that darkness and despair and we also hadn't been touched by the light of the miracle the moment it came alive. How could we ever hold this place in the same regard as all those that had lost so much during their journey here? How could we ever appreciate this place, this peace, this safety, if we had never had to spend even one day afraid and on the run like all the villagers living here." He turns towards Alma and his face is full of understanding and respect and in this moment, Mirabel loves her father more than she ever thought possible. "How could this stupid little boy ever appreciate and love and respect your daughter as much as she deserved after losing everything and carrying all these burdens when he himself had never lost anything. Right?"
Alma gasps. She is crying softly. "Agustin… I didn't know you-"
He sighs. "I may be a bit of a klutz, but I am not stupid or ignorant, Alma. It hurt, but I understood. I always understood. But," his voice gets a bit harder, his gaze sharp. "But you have always failed to consider this: we didn't leave our home and wander the jungle for nothing."
Alma swallows hard. She wants to look away from these eyes but she forces herself to keep looking. Because for the first time she looks long enough to actually see the kind of understanding she'd always falsely assumed would be missing.
She has been a fool.
"I have been a fool.", she voices her thoughts. She doesn't expect the two of them to assure her she isn't and they don't. Mirabel just bites her lip and Agustin smirks a little.
"You all found a miracle when you entered this valley. But so did I, Alma. And her name is Julieta. And if there is one thing you never have to worry about, it's me loving and appreciating and respecting her. And you."
Alma pulls him into a hug. He is so surprised by her actions, that he almost falls off the chair. Instead of growing annoyed she just laughs and pulls him closer.
"I know that, mijo. I have known that for a long time now. Every time you made her laugh or took care of the girls or stood up to me. I have known, but I was too stubborn to tell you." She pulls back and takes his face into her hands, much like she does with Bruno when she tries to get him to listen because she is about to say something very heartfelt and important. "I am glad that you are my son and I'm sorry it took me this long to tell you."
Agustin tears up as well and his wobbly lips are all Mirabel can take. She's been vibrating in her seat, sitting on her hands this whole time, but now she can't hold back anymore. She throws herself at the two of them and pulls them into another hug.
"I love you, Papa! I love you, Abuela!"
"We love you too."
They stay like this for a little while and when they break apart they are all grinning and wiping away tears.
"Well," Mirabel says and slaps her own upper thighs twice before standing up. "What a good talk, glad we-"
"Ah ah ah!" Abuela says and grabs one of her hands. "Not so fast."
Her father takes her other hand and together they pull her back down into her seat. "Your Abuela is right. We still have to talk about your misplaced guilt."
"But-"
"Don't talk back to your father."
"Thank you, Alma."
"You are welcome, Agustin."
Mirabel groans. Maybe them reconciling was not such a good idea after all.