Just a disclaimer, I'm not fluent in Spanish at all (but I can understand a bit), so I'm not putting too much Spanish in so as not to offend anyone by inaccuracies. I am relying on what meager lessons I retained from Spanish class, research, and Google translate.

Author's Note: I'm going to ramble a bit so just hang with me here. First off, I listened to Dos Oruguitas religiously when writing this. It literally got better and better with each replay. My heart is in shreds after studying the song and writing all this. I don't know how this idea popped in my head, but it just did because I live for angst and torturing my favorite characters. Sorry if it seems slow or over explains in certain areas, especially at the start. I tried to write in the style I like reading.

Ironically, although I thoroughly enjoy reading about my favorite ships and romance is a rather important portion of this story, I know diddly squat about romantic love and have never been in an official relationship, so apologies if my writing of romance is off. I tried my best.

Please enjoy, but fair warning, this does contain certain themes like death, violence, grieving, and descriptions of pregnancy and labor so have discretion if you're sensitive about those things. Also, I did so much research over pregnancy it's ridiculous. I know it starts out adorable and fluffy, but be warned, the angst is soon to come. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I've done.

P.S. I have like a few different songs sprinkled in that I found sort of fit the storyline; and because I couldn't just choose one cover, I attached a couple different versions of the songs at the end of the fic for your enjoyment.

    Abuela tightly gripped her cup of café con leche, staring hard into it as she mulled over fate in the cool morning hours. A meager two years of peace after the fall of the Casita were all they were gifted before disaster struck. Her greatest fear had become reality as bandits somehow managed to cross the mountain barrier and discover the village. She grit her teeth together as past and present memories of destruction melded together. The raids were quick and violent, and no one had been prepared.

    Little by little the Madrigals and the people had trained themselves to defend their home. It wasn't much but they were enduring for the time being. Everyone was on high alert, stitching together the wreckage left behind after each assault. However, they couldn't go on like this forever. Just as they got better in defending their home, the invaders' attacks grew more vicious each time. How long until they were brought to their knees, completely overrun by ruin?

    The matriarch closed her eyes, pushing her tears back. Not again. She couldn't lose everything again. She thanked God that none of her family had been killed. But she couldn't help but wonder, how long? How long until death claimed one of her family members? Her old heart wouldn't be able to bear that grief. They had already lost friends in the village.

    Bruno had dared to briefly glimpse into the future only once. His face had gone pale, and he had immediately shattered the vision into a million pieces before anyone else could see it. Upon questioning, he revealed that no, he hadn't foreseen their future doom nor had he seen them fleeing the Encanto. He only admitted to seeing something that he didn't understand. His final words on the matter had been, "I–it's not my story to tell."

    Seeing the worry the vision had caused him, the family didn't pressure Bruno into telling them, especially since he didn't want to. Still, they couldn't help but agonize over what he could have seen to have shaken him so. Their future was uncertain.

    As the Madrigals began quietly filing into the dining room to begin breakfast, Abuela smoothed over her stressed features and set her mouth into a somber line. Her heart ached as she examined her familia's wary, measured movements. Everyone was tense, as if expecting another attack at any moment. 'No dar papaya' had become their unspoken motto. La Casa Madrigal used to be so happy and carefree after healing had taken effect, but that liveliness had disappeared.

    Abuela silently took roll of her family as they took their places at the table.

    Her children—Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno—along with their respective spouses sat down. The second generation's faces were lined with the same stress and exhaustion that Abuela Alma felt. The eye bags under her children's eyes, whether it be from overworking or insomnia (or a combination), did not go unnoticed by her. They tried to keep a sense of normalcy and encouragement, giving crooked, half-hearted smiles.

    The grandchildren were a bit better at maintaining a sense of morale, though it still pained Abuela that they currently smiled and laughed a lot less than they used to. She prayed that her family would eventually be able to experience the freedom to feel joy once again. She prayed that there would be reason to smile and celebrate.

    Isabela was having a low conversation with her sisters, Mirabel and Luisa, as they prepared themselves a plate and seated themselves beside their papá. The topic of their chatter seemed to be lighthearted as their eyes sparkled with mirth.

    Contrastingly, the two male grandchildren seemed to be in distress. Camilo and Antonio kept exchanging nervous glances and whispered quickly to each other, which made Abuela suspicious. Pepa also picked up on her boys' peculiar behavior and called them out on it once they had finished filling their plates.

    "Mijos, do you have anything to share?"

    The two froze guiltily, their eyes growing wide. Yep, something was definitely up.

    Camilo opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when Mariano ambled into the room. Both his and Antonio's heads snapped in the direction of their cuñado expectantly. They seemed deflated when they realized their sister was not with him.

    The rest of the family was deeply concerned. Now, more than ever, they preferred to be together or at least have physical assurance of everyone's wellbeing. Abuela's mind instantly leapt to worst case scenarios, but she quickly reined herself in.

    "Where's Dolores?" asked Antonio anxiously.

    Mariano smiled reassuringly as he informed them. "She's okay. She seemed extra tired so I let her rest."

    There it was again. That worried glance shared between the two brothers. So this also had something to do with Dolores?

    "Camilo? Antonio?" pressed Félix, shifting the attention back on the pair again.

      The seven year old momentarily fidgeted in place, not looking in anyone's eyes, before he blurted, "'Milo made Lola cry!"

    His older brother gave a strangled noise of betrayal as the whole family stared accusingly at him, waiting for a good explanation. "W–wait! I didn't—well, I kinda did, but it wasn't on purpose. I swear. I don't even know what I did!" He frowned down at his hermano. "You were the one who suggested it."

    "Yeah, but you didn't have to say it like that. You made her smad," argued Antonio.

    Before a full-blown argument could break out, Mirabel interrupted her primos. "Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. What actually happened?"

    "Well, we've," Camilo pointed to himself and Antonio as they set their plates down, "been noticing how tired Dolores has been lately, so last night, when she got back from her watch, we offered her Antonio's animals take shifts every other night. His animals are more than enough guard."

    "But he started his offer with, 'Wow, Dolores, your eye bags are really glowing tonight,'" revealed Antonio with a judgemental expression on his face.

    Camilo winced. "I was just teasing! I didn't expect her to burst into tears. Then, when I tried explaining our plan, she cried even more!"

    "Then she hugged us and went to bed," ended Antonio.

    There were raised brows on every Madrigal family member. That was odd. Dolores was typically very levelheaded and even-tempered.

    Bruno broke the silence by humorously piping up, "Well... she is Pepi's kid. Like mother, like daughter."

    That earned him a smack on the back of the head by the middle triplet. A warning breeze blew across the table.

    Mariano stared out into the courtyard wondering if he should go back up for his wife. He hadn't heard this fiasco last night since he had ended up falling asleep before his wife's return. It had been a long day fortifying the river.

    "Whenever Dolores comes down, I'm sure she will help explain things," said Abuela with an air of finality, calming her familia. "For now, everyone, eat."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Dolores slowly opened her eyes, feeling fatigued and sluggish. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, patting the empty space on the bed beside her. Huh, that was different. She was one of the early-risers of the Madrigals and typically woke up before her husband. She must have been in a really deep sleep if he managed to leave without rousing her.

    The sounds of breakfast being served filtered into her room. Her mind and body protested the idea of leaving the warm comfort of her bed but she forced herself to stand and stretch. She was mildly concerned by the slight dizziness she felt when she stood and the faint fluttering background noise that seemed to buzz in her head. Maybe she was getting sick.

    For the past couple of weeks, she had been feeling off. At first, she had attributed everything—the fatigue, soreness, body aches, hypersensitivity, and odd mood swings—to her stress and lack of sleep due to her late nights keeping watch; but even after a good night's rest, she still couldn't shake the weariness that was weighing her down.

    While she had been increasingly moody, last night had been her first major emotional meltdown, which, in retrospect, confused her just as much as it must've confused her brothers. Camilo's jab had been a low blow, but definitely not something that should've reduced her to tears. Then, when the tears started, they just couldn't seem to stop. 

    Her brothers' offer to help lighten the load warmed her heart so much that it made her cry more over how sweet they were. But on the other end of the spectrum, it also felt like she was crying over the fact that she felt they were accusing her of not being good enough at her job. She realized now that her tears, warring emotions, and efforts to calm herself might have made her body language appear to her brothers that she was upset with them. And maybe she was? Looking back and even in that moment itself, things were very unclear.

    Her tight hug at the end must have given them emotional whiplash. She knew she had it just trying to think back on that moment.

    She glanced at her appearance in the mirror. Yep, she still sort of looked as tired as she felt. Oh well, she didn't really feel like getting dressed or fixing her hair. Plus, there was no use in keeping the family waiting on her any longer. When she walked out of her room, she was caught off guard by how extra noisy the world seemed to be outside the haven of her room. Had her Gift been heightened? 

    Upon entering the dining room, she realized it wasn't just her sense of hearing that was stronger. Her nose seemed to be more sensitive as well. Her soft smile became slightly more forced as she felt her stomach turn at the various scents mixing in the room. "Buenos días."

    Mariano was at her side the moment she stepped through the threshold, kindly offering her a cup of café prepared just the way she liked it. Unfortunately, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. While pushing down an unusual onslaught of tears at this sweet gesture, Dolores had to quickly hand the cup back to her husband as the strong smell got to her. One hand flew up to desperately cover her mouth, while the other tapped the wall beside her.

    Casita seemed to get the message loud and clear, throwing a bucket at her feet just in the nick of time for Dolores to kneel and expel her stomach contents into it. She cringed at the sound of it, and her cheeks burned as she knew the whole family must've had their eyes on her at this point.

    Mariano was holding back her hair to avoid mess from getting into it and rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back. Pepa, Félix, and Julieta were at the couple's side in a flash. Julieta firmly instructed the rest of the family to stay seated so as not to crowd Dolores.

    "Lo siento. I can't," apologized Dolores quietly, turning her head away when her tía tried offering her an arepa con queso. Her stomach protested the very thought of eating anything.

    Pepa worriedly pressed her hands against her hija's forehead and cheeks. She shooed the clouds away from her head as she reported, "Hm. No fever. How are you feeling, corazón?"

    Dolores slumped against her husband and sighed, partially in frustration and partially from weariness. "Tired."

    She gratefully accepted the glass of water her papá offered to her.

    Mariano helped his wife to her feet. He suggested, "Here. Why don't we go back to bed. I'm sure we can take the day off." 

    He glanced over hopefully at Abuela who, of course, nodded her approval. Worry weighed heavy in her gaze.

    "But you still need to eat," protested Dolores weakly.

    Mariano hushed her gently. "No. You need to rest." 

    Eating was the last thing on his mind when his wife was feeling poorly.

    "I'll bring something up to you in a bit," assured Julieta as she held the back of her hand to her sobrina's forehead, concernedly double checking. "Even if you don't feel like it, you have to eat something to keep up your strength."

    Mariano nodded his thanks and began leading Dolores up to their room, leaving a very anxious breakfast table behind.

    Bruno grabbed a handful of salt and threw it over his shoulder while mumbling under his breath.

    "She'll be okay, right?" asked Antoñio. His eyes were wide with concern. It wasn't often that any of the Madrigals got sick.

    Across the table, Mirabel gave her primito an encouraging smile. "Of course she will. With Mamá's cooking, she'll be healthy in no time."

    As breakfast and quiet conversation resumed, Parce stalked up to the table and supportively butted his large head against the boy's leg. He growled something, grabbing Antonio's attention. The boy whispered to the big cat for a moment or two before loudly questioning, "Dolores is having kittens?"

    Beside him, Camilo choked on his aguapanela, spitting out a stream of it all over his food. Across from him, Luisa protectively pulled her plate closer to her.

    Silence fell and heads turned toward the youngest Madrigal. Expressions ranged from confused to shocked.

    There was an odd mixture of weather above Pepa's head as she asked in a strained voice, "Toñito, qué?"

    Antonio pointed to the jaguar. "Parce said that Lolo's gonna have kittens. That's why she's so tired." He tilted his head. "What's pregnant mean?"

    For those with whom the "kitten" comment didn't click with, the pregnant question finally made things add up as they connected the dots. Jaws dropped.

    Pepa had a double rainbow over her head and stood up so fast that Casita barely managed to catch her chair as it fell backwards. She ran out the room and screeched for her sister who had departed to whip up a soup that Dolores would hopefully be able to stomach. "JULIETA!"

    The two sisters excitedly conversed over Dolores' symptoms.

    Camilo, who still had juice dripping down his chin, stared disbelievingly with unnaturally bulging eyes. "No way. Parce, y–you're kidding with us, right?"

    The big cat gave a completely serious chuff.

    "It does explain the... high emotions and throw up," started Félix. "Pepi was just like that when she was pregnant." 

    He was slowly tying things together in his mind while also trying to wrap his head around the possibility of his baby girl being pregnant. He was still reeling from her being a married woman despite them being married for about a year now.

    Isabela, Luisa, and Mirabel shared excited grins. They were overjoyed for their prima!

    "Do you think she knows?" asked Luisa.

    "With all us talking, she does now," giggled Isabela.

    While everyone began chattering happily, Antonio's voice could be heard insistently questioning in the background, "What's pregnant?"

    Abuela gave a soft smile as her family buzzed with excitement. She hadn't expected her prayers to be answered so quickly. Joy had returned to la Familia Madrigal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Dolores listened in on the worried conversation of her family as she cuddled with Mariano on their bed. Her youngest brother's declaration made her eyes snap open. She frowned as she began taking note of all her symptoms, pulling away from Mariano's comforting embrace and sitting up. Her heart began beating faster. 

    No. It couldn't possibly be... could it? She held her finger to Mariano's lips as he gazed questioningly at her. She strained her ears, listening as intently as possible.

    There it was, that faint fluttering she had heard this morning. Was that...

    Tears sprang in her eyes. One hand flew to her mouth while the other flew to tentatively brush against her stomach. 

    Mariano scrambled forward. His hands hovered over his wife, unsure what to do. He feared she was in pain or going to be sick again.

    Dolores gently took his hands in hers, bringing them up to her face and leaning into his touch. He brushed her trail of tears away with his thumbs. His eyes shone with concern. 

    No coherent sentences seemed to form in her mind, but finally Dolores managed an overjoyed whisper, "I hear something new..." There was a beat of silence as Mariano patiently waited for her to continue. "I think it's heartbeats."

    Mariano stared, trying to understand what she was trying to say. To help, Dolores pulled one of his hands down and laid his palm flat against her stomach. "I hear them here."

    Dolores saw the moment realization struck him. His entire countenance lit up and tears glinted in his eyes. He gazed in awe and adoration as he asked in a breathless voice, "Really? You... you're—"

    She nodded, a huge grin breaking out on her face, matching his own. He surged forward and kissed her full on the mouth. Then, he pulled her close, embracing her as he sniffled into her shoulder. 

    This moment felt so surreal. To think that life, created by both of them, now grew within Dolores. 

    Their quiet moment didn't last as a soft knock sounded from the door. The couple hurriedly wiped their faces in a sorry attempt to look somewhat presentable. 

    Dolores tilted her head and hummed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She quietly informed Mariano, "They're all out there." She giggled softly. "They figured it out before me thanks to Parce."

    Her husband got up and opened the door, bracing himself for the rush of family members. It was a good thing he did because as soon as the door was opened a crack, Isabela came barreling in with Dolores' immediate family close behind her. The rest of the Madrigals excitedly peered in from the threshold.

    Isabela hopped onto the bed and grabbed both her prima's hands in hers. There was a joyful glint in her eyes as she asked, "You know why we're here. Can you confirm?"

    The nightgown-clad woman exhaled quietly before responding, "Yes, I hear new heartbeats... I'm pregnant." The words felt strange but oh-so wonderful coming from her mouth.

    Isabela immediately threw her arms around Dolores, trying to keep her happy squealing to a minimum.

    The whole family celebrated with soft cheers of exuberance, just barely managing to temper their excited volume in consideration for the super-hearing Madrigal. Rainbows shone over Pepa's head as she and Félix embraced their daughter. Camilo shot an indecipherable look at Mariano before piling into the group hug, purposefully sandwiching Isabela between him and his hermana just to annoy her.

    The rest of the family also hugged and congratulated the young couple. Mirabel's mind was already racing with the endless possibilities of new baby clothes to create.

    Antonio crawled into Dolores' lap after her family had finished smothering her in love and hugs. He had a very solemn expression on his face as he leaned in close to whisper something only her ears could pick up. "I know everyone's happy, but I don't get why. What's pregnant?"

    Dolores giggled softly. She had overheard his emphatic questioning, but in all the enthusiastic hubbub, nobody had bothered answering the bewildered boy. "Well, it means you and Camilo are going to be tíos. I'm going to have babies." She motioned to her currently flat stomach. "They're growing right here."

    Antonio seemed in awe as he stared at his hermana, softly touching her stomach. He breathed in amazement, "Woah." His gaze shifted from her stomach back to her face. "How'd they get there?"

    Pepa's many rainbows flickered slightly.

    Dolores raised her eyebrows as she nervously smiled and said, "That's a question for another time."

    Félix put a warning hand on his middle child's shoulder before he could open his mouth and attempt to answer.

    "'Ey! I wasn't gonna!" exclaimed Camilo. He focused in on his sister, pointing out, "You keep saying heartbeats and babies. You having more than one?"

    "Sí, I can't make out how many just yet, but there's definitely more than one," answered Dolores softly, ducking her head as the whole family went silent with wide-eyes. Even larger grins broke out on their faces.

    Luisa gently steadied Mariano as he swayed on his feet, lightheaded from the sheer joy. He couldn't resist running over to his wife and planting another loving kiss on her lips. While most found the display adorable, Camilo and Antonio pulled disgusted faces.

    As the Madrigals exited to leave the couple in peace, Abuela came up to the couple and kissed them both on the forehead, congratulating them one more time. In such a time of fear, the family needed a glorious ray of hope. Dolores heard Abuela muttering prayers under her breath as she shut the door behind her. 

    The young couple shared wide grins as they leaned into each other's presence. This was going to be grand new chapter in their lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Dolores quickly found that pregnancy, while a beautiful thing, was not a very elegant process and was actually rather taxing. After the fourth day waking up nauseous, she had come to hate the name "morning" sickness. 

    For Dios' sake, it did not last only in the mornings! 

    It was rough trying to maintain a healthy diet when almost everything she smelled made her want to throw up. At least she found that papaya was palatable. Camilo liked to joke that she'd turn orange at the rate she was consuming the fruit.

    Her mother, tía, and Abuela had cornered her early on to explain the entire process of pregnancy, what to expect, and what she could and could not do. It was... a lot to take in. No alcohol, no hot baths, no caffeine!

    Then, of course, news traveled like wildfire in the Encanto thanks to Mariano merrily exclaiming to everyone he met that he was going to be a father, followed by her brothers (mostly Camilo) boasting that they were going to be tíos, and then her papá proudly declaring his new status as a soon-to-be abuelo. Pepa, though no less joyful, was slightly less enthusiastic about getting the title of abuela. Was she really getting that old?!

    Suddenly, all the women in the village felt inclined to share their experiences and advice with Dolores, whether she asked for it or not. These were no longer just her babies, they were everyone's. More often than not, the Madrigal would plaster an enduring smile on her face as she listened to the conflicting opinions of the women, occasionally feeling the smile drop as a few women also felt the need to warn of all the complications that could arise during pregnancy and child-rearing.

    Tío Bruno found her sprawled out on the couch after a particularly draining run-in with the villagers. "It's tough being the center of attention, eh?"

    Dolores cracked an eye open at him and nodded wearily. "I'm not even showing yet and they're already treating me like I'm made of glass. I'm scared to think what'll happen when I do. Those ladies will never leave me alone."

    Bruno laughed and settled into a cushioned chair beside the couch. The two sat in companionable silence. Something the seer had appreciated upon his return was that he and Dolores just seemed to click. They could just bask peacefully in each other's presence and relax quietly, not a word needing to be shared between them.

    Dolores broke the quiet as she sat up and dared to speak after a moment's hesitation. "Tío?" She pulled an arm across her stomach. "Do you think you could... I mean, I still can't make out how many..."

    The short man's eyes softened at her concern. He gently assured his sobrina, "Time will tell, cariño. As their heartbeats grow stronger, I'm sure you'll be able to tell exactly how many there are." He gave a short, nervous laugh, as memories began bubbling to the surface. "I know I haven't done a vision in a while. I'm sorry I–I gotta refuse you, but pregnancy and family members are something I should definitely not look at into the future unless it's some sort of major emergency." 

    He winced. Even then though, more often than not, the visions he had had for certain family members just ended up making the emergency or situation worse.

    "Sometimes... sometimes the visions get too detailed," admitted Bruno. "I'm not going to pry into your life like that."

    Very early on when he first got his Gift, after doing a disastrous seeing for a young couple, certain rules and boundaries had been put in place by Alma. No prophecies for love and couples.    It wasn't that the vision had resulted in a negative outcome(it was technically one of his more hopeful ones in his career). It just consisted of private things that no five year old should have been privy to. A pale Alma had had to explain the wonders of love and new life to her son. Suffice to say, the vision and talk had stripped Bruno of a good deal of child-like innocence that day, but it also instilled a great deal of respect for all women and what they went through to bring life into the world.

    He had technically broken his mamá's rule when he did his heartbreaking prophecy for Dolores, but how could he resist such big doe eyes begging him to see if her crush reciprocated her feelings? It was supposed to have been a harmless peek into the future. Now, he could resist better because he really didn't want to give another prophecy to his second oldest sobrina and accidentally see something extremely terrible or personal. She didn't deserve more heartbreak from him.

    Dolores stared understandingly. She was all too familiar with the burden of unwanted knowledge. "That's okay, Tío. I was just curious."

    Bruno relaxed at her calm acceptance and smiled when she suddenly perked up and looked expectantly at the door. 

    Mariano entered a second later and delivered a small bag in his wife's lap. He watched Dolores eagerly sift through the bag's contents, declaring, "Only the best fruits and chocolates for mi corazón."

    She pulled him onto the couch beside her, giving him a quick peck of gratitude before tearing into the food. It was good to have peaceful times. 

    Still, the seer couldn't help but worry that perhaps he was making a mistake not peering into his sobrina's future. Watching the domestic scene between the couple though, Bruno grinned and reminded himself that the present was precious enough, not needing to be tainted with future concerns and sorrows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    But, of course, things couldn't stay peaceful for long. A few hours later, at dusk, Dolores stiffened and tilted her head, listening closely. Her eyes went wide as she quickly reported, "There are raiders sneaking through the west fields."

    Mariano and Dolores instinctively reached for their respective weapons, a machete and a bow, but Mariano halted his wife. "Wait, you shouldn't fight."

    Dolores gave him a soft smile, patting him on the cheek reassuringly. "I won't do much. I'm pregnant, mi vida, not powerless."

    He couldn't get out another syllable before his wife had already raced toward the fields, leaving him to anxiously chase after her while muttering prayers of protection. When she wanted to be, she was as stubborn as her mamá.

    Turns out, it wasn't many raiders, just a small group looking to score some easy food. They were easily deterred by Luisa, and the damage done to the crops was repaired by Isabela.

    However, after the dust had settled, all the Madrigals present turned to Dolores with extremely disapproving expressions.

    "Young lady, what are you doing out here?" demanded Pepa. She glared at Mariano who shrunk back. "Why would you let her fight?"

    "I heard them coming and came to help. I'm not going to stand by like a useless lump while the Encanto is attacked," defended Dolores, gripping her bow tightly in her hand. The same bow she had just used minutes before to shoot a raider before he could hurt her prima Luisa. 

    Pepa's furious countenance softened slightly. She reached out to cup her hijas cheeks in her hands. "Mi sol, you are not useless."

    Dolores brought her hand subconsciously to touch her stomach. "I know, Mamá." She let out a soft sigh. "But... it's so early and their heartbeats are still so soft I can't even make out how many there are yet. I can still do things. I can defend the Encanto."

    Pepa's voice was gentle yet firm as she reminded her daughter, "I know it's a big change, but, Dolores, you have to remember, you are risking more than just yourself now." She allowed herself a light chuckle. "If you keep rushing out like that, it's not the raiders that'll be the death of us." She pointed to her son-in-law. "Just look at your poor esposo. He's about to pass out from fear."

    All Madrigals looked over at the young man who had his wide-eyed gaze fixed concernedly on his wife. He hadn't dared take his eyes from her since the scuffle began. His face went stony as he silently motioned for her to come with him back to Casita. She complied without a word.

     When they finally reached the comfort of their room, Dolores slowly approached him, her eyes downcast as she timidly reached for him, fearing he was angry with her. He immediately responded by pulling her into a tight yet careful embrace.

    She whispered into his ear, "Lo siento. I didn't mean to make you worry."

    He murmured back lowly, not a hint of anger in his tone, "I know, mi vida. But I can't help but worry. My heart could not bear it if something happened to you or our children."

    "And I couldn't bear it if something happened to you," replied Dolores tenderly. "I don't want you running into battle alone."

    Mariano cupped her face in his hands and leaned forward until their foreheads touched, gazing deeply into her eyes and assuring her, "I'm never alone. Not when mi amor can hear for me across the entire Encanto."

    "But I can't help you if I'm just listening from a mile away," grumbled Dolores, letting her head rest against his chest and listening to the strong rhythm of his heart.

    "Knowing you are safe and well helps me more than you know," rumbled Mariano soothingly.

    Still embracing each other, Dolores allowed herself to gently fall back onto the bed, pulling her husband down with her and into a passionate kiss. They spent the rest of the evening together, loving each other and finding comfort in the closeness of the other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    In the weeks following, it wasn't uncommon to see Parce trailing protectively behind Dolores. He shadowed her particularly close if Mariano wasn't around and absolutely refused to let her anywhere near her bow and arrows, even when there were raids happening.

    Dolores didn't mind the large cat's presence, though she was slightly annoyed because she suspected Mariano had asked Antonio to put him up to it because he thought she needed a guardian. Upon asking her youngest brother though, he denied it, saying that Parce was doing it on his own accord. He revealed that Parce just liked hanging out with her and that he wanted to make sure the "kittens" were safe.

    It was a sweet gesture, and with major fatigue hitting her hard at random points of the day, she appreciated the napping companion. His soft fur made him an excellent pillow as they lazed in the sun together.

    Currently, he lay on the floor of her room, lazily blinking at her as she examined her body in the mirror. She ran a hand along her stomach and over the small baby bump that was now present. The midwife had noted this early showing and confirmed what she already knew, she was having multiples. She smiled tenderly, listening in on the heartbeats of her children which had grown stronger since three weeks ago.

    Her lips stretched into a bigger smile as she tried counting how many she could make out. Her hands tapped out two different rhythms, but... there was one more. She let out an elated squeak, pulling her blouse down and rushing out the door. Parce immediately leapt to his feet and bounded after her.

    Dolores let her ears lead her to the nearest family members which happened to be her two tíos who were tidying the kitchen in the small window of time they managed to snag because they had finally convinced Julieta to take a break from her endless cooking. She nearly made her Tío Agustín drop a plate when she unexpectedly pulled him into a hug.

    "O–oh! Um, Dolores! Holá," greeted Augustín, intrigued by this surprising display of affection. He raised an eyebrow, mildly concerned. "Do you need anything?"

    The only response he got back was his sobrina chirping out a happy, "Three!"

    He glanced confusedly over at his cuñado only to get a clueless shrug in return. 

    She flitted over to Bruno pulling him into a joyous hug as well, telling him, "Tres! Can you believe it, Tío?!"

    Bruno blinked once, then twice, staring at Dolores until it suddenly clicked for him. He grew equally as animated, a wide grin breaking out on his face as he pulled her hands into his. "R–really?"

    She nodded vigorously.

    "Congratulations," cheered Agustín, finally catching on and remaining mindful of her sensitive ears.

    Dolores felt herself grow misty eyed as Bruno pulled her into another embrace, his wide puppy dog eyes filling with happy tears.

    "I know you can find him easily enough, but Mariano was supposed to be helping out Osvaldo right now," supplied Agustín helpfully.

    "Gracías," squeaked Dolores as she ran out of Casita, Parce still loyally on her heels.

    Mariano just about had a mini heart attack when he looked up from loading wagons to see his wife jogging down the road at him. He dropped the crate in his hands and sprinted halfway to meet her.

    He gathered her up in his arms, eyes worriedly scanning her over for injuries or distress. "Mi amor, you shouldn't be running. What's wrong?! What happened?"

    Her eyes were shining bright with joy as she informed him breathlessly. "Three. We're having three. I heard all their heartbeats."

    Mariano froze as his brain processed this news. Without warning, his body dropped backwards and his eyes rolled back into his skull. Dolores lost her grip on him, but fortunately Parce was there to help break his fall and keep the shocked man from busting his head open.

    When he came to a couple of minutes later, Mariano was staring straight up into the spotted face of Parce. When he turned his head to the side, he was met with his wife bemusedly watching him and laying beside him on the cobble street. 

    He sat up and helped her sit upright as well. His first question was, "Why were you laying in the middle of the road with me?"

    Dolores laughed, "You passed out and I didn't want you to be lonely."

    Díos, he positively loved this woman. All the information right before he blacked out was rushing back to the forefront of his mind. His jaw dropped. He loved her so, so, so much.

    Mariano quickly held his hands over Dolores' ears as he shouted and whooped to the high heavens. "THANK YOU, DÍOS! I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY!"

    He uncovered her ears and pulled her close, kissing her multiple times while muttering quickly under his breath. "We need to come up with names. What if it's one boy and two girls or if it's two boys and one girl? Or what if it's three girls?!" He paused before he could work himself up and consulted his wife, "What do you think they are, mi vida?" 

    Dolores tilted her head to the side as she thought. "I think it's... one boy and two girls like Mamá, Tía, and Tío. But I think it's a good idea to pick out three girl and three boy names. Just in case."

    "Well that means we can take plenty of suggestions from the family," chuckled Mariano.

    Instead of getting up like any normal person, the pair continued to sit on the side of the street with Parce stretched out beside them as they began excitedly brainstorming a bunch of prospective names. With his wife tucked comfortably under his arm as they chatted away, Mariano couldn't help but wish he could press pause on such precious moments like this. These moments were what made life worth living.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Dolores didn't know why or what triggered anxiety to randomly hit her in the middle of the night. It just did. To be honest, she was surprised an anxiety spiral hadn't hit her sooner considering all the stuff the women liked to gab about. All she knew was that one moment, she was laying peacefully in bed and the next, she was sitting up and gasping for air. 

    Her body trembled as she curled in on herself and screwed her eyes shut tight. She held a hand to her mouth, silent sobs wracking her body as a million different thoughts, fears, and worries raced through her mind. 

    'What if she wasn't cut out for motherhood? What if she failed? What if they were too loud and she couldn't handle it? What if the Encanto fell? How would she care for her children?'

    Nausea built on top of her anxiety. She choked the bile down as she hurried over to the bathroom where she collapsed, shaking in front of toilet. She retched and dry heaved until she could barely breath. Her entire body ached and her lungs felt like they were trapped in a vice that was steadily growing tighter. The sound of her pounding heart flooded her senses.

    Mariano found her like that a couple moments later. The heaviness of sleep instantly fell away from him as he saw the state of panic and misery his wife was in. He settled beside her, tugging her hair back and speaking to her in hushed, soothing tones. "Respira, mi amor. Respira. I'm here." When she had calmed enough and her breathing had evened out, he gently asked, "What's wrong?"

    A steady stream of tears leaked from Dolores' eyes as she leaned into her husband's broad chest and poured her heart out to him. He held her securely against himself as he attentively listened to her unleash all of her fears, wishing he could take all her worries and pains away. 

    "You could never fail. There will be mistakes but that's okay. That won't make you any less of a good mother. We're learning and growing together. I'm always here to support you and our kids. You're not alone." He placed a loving hand over her stomach. "And as your Abuela likes to say," he imitated the woman's inflection, eliciting a small chuckle from her, "'the magic is strong!' The Encanto will not fall. I will fight with every fiber of my being to ensure that."

    She hummed quietly as he picked her up and carried her back to their room where they nestled close to each other. He and his wife talked all night, sharing their hopes and fears of the future, and occasionally making trips back to the bathroom for the sake of Dolores' bladder or stomach. It was one of those difficult, sleepless nights, but Mariano still wouldn't trade it for anything in the world because the troubling times were what made a story all the more beautiful and the good times all the more worthwhile. He couldn't wait to be a papá.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Over the next few months, there had been hushed conversation of going on the offensive against the raiders as the villagers grew more tired of the continuous attacks. Some opposed this idea, fearing that if they failed to triumph, the invaders would harshen their attacks and wipe them out for good.

    Minds were made up one terrifying evening when the raiders managed to make it all the way to Casita and set her ablaze. The Madrigals, especially Mariano, swore their hearts stopped at the horrifying sight of their home being sent up in flames.

    Without a second thought, Mariano sprinted towards the house. He desperately screamed his wife's name as he ran, uncaring whether or not the invaders still surrounded Casita and were attacking the Encanto. When a few raiders tried to stop his progress, he fought like a madman. Dolores needed him!

    He stumbled into the house, looking wildly around. He called out, "Casita! Where is Dolores?!"

    In response, the house shuffled her tiles, essentially throwing his heavily pregnant wife into his arms. He immediately dropped his machete in favor of catching her. 

    Her eyes were wide with fear. One hand was clutching her large stomach while the other gripped Mariano. She had just been taking a load off when this nightmare had suddenly started off. At seven months pregnant, she was in no condition to run. In fact, her walk was more of a waddle these days.

    "We can't go out there! They'll kill us!" cried Dolores, choking on the smoke.

    "We can't stay in here either," wheezed Mariano. 

    Casita was making a valiant effort at taming the flames, but she could only do so much. She moved the trapped pair out the door, frantic to get them out. 

    Mariano hugged his wife against him as a couple of the raiders took notice of the two attempting to escape the fire. His heart froze in his chest as he saw the flash of swords bearing down on them.

    Fortunately, before their enemies could set upon them, Parce and Camilo in the form of Luisa came charging at the attackers. The invaders were effectively deterred as they were familiar with Luisa's terrifying might.

    After a wearying fight and Dolores giving the all clear, the Madrigal family rallied together at the Guzmán's home. They were all relieved to see everyone alive and well with no life threatening injuries. They especially doted upon Dolores, making sure she was comfortable and doing okay after that awful ordeal.

    There had been a mild scare for a moment as Dolores thought she might've been experiencing mild contractions; but after close monitoring from her Tía Julieta and unhelpful panicking from the rest of the family, it was determined they were just false contractions probably triggered by the stress of the day. They all heaved giant sighs of relief.

    An icy downpour from Pepa had put out the fire in Casita. Though the damage was not as terrible as they suspected, no one particularly wanted to spend the night in the blackened halls of their home.

    The adult Madrigals, village elders, and some incensed villagers were all packed into the kitchen downstairs discussing what had to be done. Upstairs, the Madrigal grandchildren were all crammed together in what used to be Mariano's bedroom. They had practically all been attached at the hip since the attack and had decided to cuddle pile the stress away.

    As Mariano and Dolores lay in the center, Mariano still felt his heart hammering away in his chest as he thought back on the day. He could've lost them. He could've lost Dolores. He sighed softly, holding back tears. This had been the closest call yet. Next time, would they be so fortunate? And the next?

    Dolores turned over on her other side so she was facing him and placed a hand over his racing heart. She heard his fear. He placed his hand over hers then reached down to feel the movement of his children. They didn't speak, just shared expressions of deep concern. She nuzzled as close to him as her stomach would allow, and he tilted his head so that their foreheads were almost touching as reassurance as if to say, "I'm still here." They wouldn't—couldn't lose each other.

    The Madrigal grandchildren all eventually fell off into a fitful sleep save for Dolores whose ears were tuned in to the discussion downstairs. Her heart fluttered fearfully as the final decision was made: the Encanto would make a powerful stand and fight back, throwing everything they had at the raiders to drive them away. All or nothing. Every able-bodied fighter in the village would go. Their attack would be launched a week from today.

    For everyone, that week passed far too quickly. Preparations were made for the big battle. Since she had heard the news, Dolores had stuck to her husband's side, soaking up every minute she could with him. He too savored the moments spent in the company of his wife. 

    Often, Dolores would be lulled to sleep by the sound of him scribbling late into the night, writing like he was running out of time. He was being very secretive about his latest works up until the night before the planned attack. Before she completely dozed off, he gently roused her awake. "Mi amor."

    Dolores' eyes slowly blinked open and she was met with the face of her husband as he knelt beside her bed, giving her the softest look imaginable. He kept his voice low as he spoke. "I know it's late, but I wanted to show you something."

    Well, how could she refuse when he's looking at her like a begging puppy? He helped her up out of bed and kept his arm around her as they walked out of their room. It was not missed by Dolores that he had his tiple strapped to his back. Her interest was piqued. She always loved it when he played for her but he hadn't done it in a while since life had been full of so many important preparations. 

    He led her to the nursery which had been lovingly remodeled and redecorated over the last few months by the entire family. The fire from the last week had fortunately not touched that part of Casita. The two settled against each other on the soft woven rug beside the three cribs that lined the wall.

    He swallowed before he began speaking. It wasn't something he savored talking about but he needed to get this off his chest. "Dolores, I can't get it out of my head that... tomorrow might be our last day. If we fail–"

    Dolores sat up straighter, pulling away from where she had leaned against him. She shook her head, admonishing him quietly, "Mariano, don't talk like that. We are to win and everyone will be fine. You're going to come back safe. I'm going to have our kids and we're going to raise them and love them together."

    Worry leaked into his gaze. "I know. I know. But please just let me." He took her hands in his. "If anything does happen, I need you to know how much I love you and our niños. I love you so, so much."

    "And I love you too, which is why you are going to return," murmured Dolores, pulling him tight against her, tears trailing down her face.

    He returned the hug, enveloping her protectively. "I will. But just in case, I have a song prepared."

    He brushed the tears from his eyes and pulled out his tiple, strumming it soulfully. Dolores clung to him as he played and began singing.

Recuérdame
Hoy me tengo que ir, mi amor
Recuérdame
No llores, por favor

Te llevo en mi corazón
Y cerca me tendrás
A solas, yo te cantaré
Soñando en regresar

Recuérdame
Aunque tenga que emigrar
Recuérdame
Si mi guitarra oyes llorar

Ella con su triste canto te acompañará
Hasta que en mis brazos estés
Recuérdame

https://youtu.be/1BDs9UHhmPg

    As he finished, Dolores buried her face in his shoulder, making it wet with her tears. Her voice was choked by emotion. "This isn't goodbye. And not a million years could make me forget you or our love."

    Adoration and love radiated from Mariano as he held his wife close and let the tears trickle down his face. He murmured lowly, pulling out a leather bound journal and holding out to her, "I've been compiling every piece of poetry and every song I've ever written since we've first gotten together and I've also included some new things I've created this week." 

    Dolores reverently took the book in her hands. He had wrote all this within the week? She lovingly clutched it to her chest, beaming softly at him.

    He quickly added, stopping her when she carefully began cracking the pages open, "But I'm not ready for you to read it just yet." At her quizzical expression, he placed his hands over hers and told her, "I want us to read it together to our niños. It'll give me something to look forward to–" he stumbled over his words, "if I get back."

    Dolores fixed him with a solemn expression. "You are coming back." After a long moment, she allowed a small smile back on her face as she felt her niños kick. She pulled Mariano's hand against her stomach so he could feel their movement. "They expect you back soon too."

    He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her temple. "Then I shall hurry back to you with all the speed in the cosmos."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    When the final day arrived, Abuela oversaw it all as anxieties began to rise. Would they win or would they die? She put on her most stern expression. It was all she could do to keep from breaking down into tears, especially when the time came to strike and all the Madrigals but Dolores, Antonio, Julieta, and herself departed.

    Señor Flores murmured a quick prayer over everyone. Others, Abuela in particular, joined in fervently. As they marched away to fight, the matriarch had to turn away. Her heart aching as families tearfully said goodbye to sons and fathers, mothers and daughters. That was her mistake for as she turned, she came across an even more heart-wrenching scene.

    Abuela's soul seemed to shatter as she watched Mariano tenderly running his hand along her granddaughter's bulging stomach and whispering sweet nothings. The young couple lock gazes with each other, communicating such love and devotion, before sharing a tight embrace and passionate kiss. It reminded Abuela of her and Pedro in their last moments together. Oh how she prayed the tragedy of her beloved Pedro would not befall Mariano. "Dios, protect him. Protect us all."

    "Please, please come back to me," begged Dolores quietly against her husband's lips.

    He murmured back to her, "I will." That was a promise Mariano had intended to keep. He pressed a quick peck to her rounded stomach.

    "Te quiero mucho."

    Dolores' heart constricted as Mariano reluctantly pulled away. Tears were shining in both their eyes as their fingertips brushed up against each other one last time. Her arm remained outstretched, reaching for him as he courageously marched away with the others.

    Antonio sidled up beside his sister and gently hugged her side as best he could with her pregnant stomach. He knew she was hurting and he was offering what little comfort he could. It seemed to help a little as Dolores reached down to lay a hand softly on his shoulder, though she did give an almost undetectable wince when his hand brushed her lower back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    This battle was unlike anything Mariano had ever experienced. There had been skirmishes throughout the Encanto but no one had ever experienced full out battle like this. It was horrible and disgusting. And it was loud. People shouted, swords clashed, gunfire boomed, and thunder rumbled. Part of him was relieved that his wife wasn't at his side and forced endure such a jarring onslaught to the senses.

    In his youth, he had read the stories and fairytales filled with battles of valor and honor, but this fight was nothing like in books. One minute, you could be fighting for your life and the next, you are nothing more than a nameless slab of meat with a smoking hole through the center of it. Your life could be taken in an instant without a hint of honor or remorse.

    Their enemies were brutal but just as the people of the Encanto had counted on, the raiders had not been expecting such a forceful assault from the villagers. For an instant, everyone seemed hopeful that their enemies would flee without any major losses having to take place. However, once the bandits had gotten ahold of their wits, the real carnage began. The people of the Encanto were fortunate to have such a large supply of Julieta's cooking on their side.

    Mariano was not a fighter at heart and the bloodshed made him queasy. His hands were shaking but the thought of Dolores waiting for him back at home gave him the strength he needed to harden his heart and swing his machete. These people would not threaten his home and terrorize his wife anymore! He had a family to raise with her and his children deserved to grow up in peace.

    He backed off for a short moment. hiding behind a tree to catch his breath when he caught sight of Bruno hunched over in the brush. Worried that he was injured, Mariano quickly slunk over to him. He found no sign of injury or blood on the shaking man, just green streaks of light slipping from between his fingers which were clutched over his face. Mariano's eyes widened in realization. Bruno was having a involuntary vision. It was his first in a long while.

    The young man took up guard, making sure no enemies got near the seer in his vulnerable state. When the vision finally seemed to end, Bruno slumped forward. Mariano bent down to check on him. Knowing his strength was fading fast, the prophet surprised his nephew-in-law by suddenly reaching out and grasping at his bloodied, sweat-soaked guayabera, pulling the young man close so he could desperately mutter in his ear, "T-the– the mountains... They w–wi— no, they must fall... And—" 

    A gunshot splintered the tree branch right above their heads, sending Mariano splaying across the dirt for safety. No following shots rang out as the shooter was hurled fifty feet into the air by some carnivorous plant Isabela had summoned. The flower woman raced up to them. Fear shone on her face as she focused in on her uncle who was now passed out in his arms.

    "Tío!"

    "He's not dead," assured Mariano. Any momentary peace Isabela felt at the news her tío was okay instantly vanished at her cousin-in-law's next words. "It was a vision. I think he wants us to bring down the mountains."

    The gears in Mariano's head were already turning and he shared his plan with Isabela who agreed to aid him. Neither Madrigals were masters of battle tactics so his half-baked idea to plant explosives in the side of the mountain while the fight continued on seemed like their best bet. They made sure Bruno was safely with Mirabel and Agustín, the "field medics," and then set their plan into motion. Many, many fireworks later and the trap was set.

    It was all going relatively smoothly till some rock underfoot gave way as Mariano was hurriedly scrambling down the mountain. Isabela was at his side in an instant but he waved her away. "Go tell Pepa and everyone else to retreat." His prima-in-law seemed hesitant but he assured her with a dashing grin. "I'll be right behind you after I light the fuse."

    She nodded and ran off. He winced as he stood. His knee had taken the brunt of the impact. He whispered to himself, "You can do this, Mariano. For Dolores and mis niños."

    He limped over to the fuse and lit it. When he observed the battlefield, his heart gave a panicked jolt as he realized the bandits were following the villagers' retreat. If they didn't stay, bringing down the mountain would help no one. Thinking quickly, he pulled out one last firework he had tucked into his pocket and launched it, garnering the attention of the raiders. He fired a spray of shots at them, and just like he'd hoped, they turned their ire towards him. That was their final, fatal mistake as the side of the mountain exploded, bringing down a cascade of rocks down on all their heads. 

    There wasn't any time and no way his busted knee would support him. He didn't run, didn't retreat. If his life was what it cost to ensure the safety of the Encanto and everything he loved, then so be it. He would proudly die a thousand deaths. His only regret as his vision faded to black was that he would not be able to say goodbye to his love nor would he get to hear the cries or laughter of his children.

    Just like that, he was gone, snuffed out in the heat of battle. A nameless body amongst the rubble, but to his family he would live on as a hero.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    It hadn't been long since the fight had begun. Dolores was sitting outside, ramrod straight with her eyes shut. Parce lay at her side as she focused in on the sounds of the distant battle. Every so often, she could pick out the distinct sounds of her family, giving her reassurance that they were still alive. The rumbles of thunder were a particular comfort, signaling her mother was still fighting fiercely. 

    However, it began to get increasingly difficult for her to concentrate on listening to the battle. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to alleviate the back ache that had been plaguing her since everyone had left to fight. She couldn't hold back a sharp gasp as the dull ache quickly turned into a shooting pain in her middle. 

    Parce stared up at her worriedly as she doubled over, her hands clutching her stomach.

    She instructed the jaguar in a pained and fear-laced voice, "Go get tía."

    The big cat raced off immediately, barging into the kitchen where Julieta and Antonio were currently cooking up a storm. He gave a frantic growl, disregarding the healer's strict policy on no animals in the kitchen area. 

    While she waited for her tía to get to her, Dolores grit her teeth, praying for the cramp to cease. It eventually eased, but when she attempted to stand, she suddenly felt a rush of fluid from between her legs. 

    "No! No, no," she whispered frantically to herself. She had hoped the pain had just been a fluke or a false contraction, but with her water breaking, she knew what that meant. "It's too early."

    Julieta paused at the entrance of the balcony, assessing her sobrina's condition. The young woman was bent forward, clutching at her stomach with wild desperation alight in her eyes. her breaths were coming in short, panicked gasps, and a dark patch was staining her skirt.

    "Tía Julieta, it's too early," cried Dolores fearfully, tears springing in her eyes.

    Julieta rushed to her niece's side, helping to support her and shushing her gently. "Shhh. Breathe. It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine. Let's get you to your room right now."

    It was slow going business as Dolores shuffled along past her worried brother and jaguar companion. 

    "Antonio, I need you to go into the village and get Señora Sanchez," directed Julieta in an even tone. 

    Though she knew it would probably be a while before Dolores went into active labor, it would be better to have the experienced midwife on hand before any complications arose. Being a triplet herself, she knew triplets were often born early, so this was actually good for her niece because carrying multiples too long posed a greater risk for the mother.

    The boy's eyes were wide as he tensely nodded. He was getting a bit big for riding on Parce's back, but not so big that the the spotted cat couldn't transport him in emergencies such as this. In the blink of an eye, they were racing down the eerily quiet streets of the village in search of the midwife.

    Casita helped Dolores settle in her bed, throwing a clock up on the dresser to remind the women to time the contractions. 

    Julieta thanked the house before smoothing the distressed lines that had shown up on her sobrina's forehead. She hated that the young woman had so much stressing her out right now, dealing with birthing three niño's while worrying over the outcome of the battle and safety of her husband and family. The raw fear in her sobrina's eyes broke her heart.

    The healer spoke gently, "Dolores, everything will turn out okay. I need to go gather some things, but I'll be right back. Try to relax and save your strength. You're going to need it."

    Dolores tried to relax, she really did, but she couldn't help but let her attention drift back towards the ongoing battle. She listened tensely but was pulled back twenty minutes later by another contraction. She groaned, knowing they would only get worse from there. Her heart was beating so heavily she almost thought it would beat right out of her chest.

    Tía Julieta was still bustling in and out of the room, making preparations. Señora Sanchez had arrived and checked Dolores over, not seeing any worrying signs. Abuela approached afterwards, having been informed of her nieta's labor.

    The elderly matriarch walked over to the edge of her bed and ran her fingers through Dolores' curls. She softly asked as the young woman stared towards the window, "How are you feeling, cariño?"

    It took a moment before Dolores blinked and turned her head, murmuring with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, "I'm scared, Abuela. So scared. I want the family back already. I want Mariano back."

    Abuela's gaze was soft and full of understanding as she comforted her granddaughter. "They will be back." She prayed with all her heart they would be. "You need to allow yourself to focus on delivering tus niños right now. You can do this." She afforded a tiny, encouraging smile as she lightly joked. "It might be better for you that they are away. Less chaos and panicking around Casita for you to hear. Pedro passed out and had to be carried from the room when I was giving birth."

    Dolores' lips quirked up in a half smile as she considered all the chaos that would indeed unfold if all of the Madrigals were at home. Her mamá would be thundering and her papá would either be helping calm her or be bawling his eyes out himself. She knew Mariano and Luisa would be tense and would probably want to shy away from the blood but would be doing their best to put on a bold face. Isabela would maybe try putting on a bold face but would be dangerously close to throwing up or passing out if she was in the room with Dolores. Her closest prima was not interested in the miracles of birth in the slightest. The rest of the family would probably be waiting out the labor from a safe distance downstairs.

    Abuela jumped at the sudden, muffled boom of a distant explosion and stared out the window in horror as a large plume of smoke rose from the area the battle had been taking place. 

    Dolores hands flew to her ears and she winced. The rumble had echoed far louder in her ears. A cold, heavy sense of dread pooled in her gut. Something terrible had happened. She could feel it. Casita seemed to sense this as well, giving a small tremble. 

    The young bed-ridden woman couldn't answer when Abuela asked in a thin voice what had happened. Dolores wished she knew. The battlefield was now eerily silent. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Is it over?"

    The people of the Encanto cautiously returned to the silent, rubble-filled battlefield. They grimaced as they surveyed the loss of life and carefully picked their way through the broken bodies of the invaders. There were no survivors. For such a feat, some suspected a burst of magic had occurred, ensuring no extra stragglers.

    Isabela was not as wary as the others as she rushed to and fro, frantically searching when she didn't see Mariano among the fighters of the Encanto. Her mind desperately prayed, 'Please, please, please be okay, you self-sacrificing oaf. You better not have lied to me.'

    She came to a dead stop as she stumbled across a sight she had hoped against hope she wouldn't see. She couldn't stop her knees from buckling and choked sobs from bubbling up from the back of her throat. With a trembling hand, she reached out, searching for a pulse on Mariano's cold body she knew she would not find. "No, no. Please no."

    It was a solemn task, cleaning up the battlefield and trudging back home. The Madrigals who had fought were all informed of the fate of Mariano. There was a mix of emotions. Triumph and relief that the Encanto was finally rid of the scourge of the raiders. Yet no one could summon the spirit to celebrate when their victory had come at the cost of their own. It was irreverent to celebrate when others were grieving loved ones. The people's expressions as they shuffled back to the village could only be described as haunted.

    Alma was pale as she counted up those that had returned and compared it to the number that had left. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she took note of the tear-stained faces of her family as they walked into the courtyard. 

    Julieta appeared at the top of the stairs, placing a hand over her heart. Relief flooded her features as she rushed down to embrace her family.

    Antonio followed close behind her, seeking comfort in his parents arms.

    Isabela ran to her mamá and cried into her shoulder. Alma was afraid to approach and ask but her oldest granddaughter answered in a tremulous tone loud enough for everyone to hear. "W-we won." The matriarch braced herself for the bad news. "But... but Mariano, he's gone."

    Julieta gasped sharply, catching Isabela off guard as she waved her arm as if to silence her daughter but the damage had been done. She turned fearfully towards Dolores' open door.

    A heartbroken wail pierced the ears and hearts of everyone standing in the courtyard. 

    Señora Sanchez's voice could be heard firmly ringing out, "Dolores! You can't get up. Breathe with me. You need to calm down."

    Louder than anyone had heard her, Dolores snapped in a broken, grief-stricken voice Alma was too familiar with herself. "Don't tell me how to feel!"

    Abuela's blood ran cold. She froze, reliving tragic memories.

    Pepa had handed Antonio to her husband and practically flew up the stairs, desperate to help her daughter.

    Isabela stood frozen with her hands hands slapped over her mouth. Her eyes were wide in shock and grief. Guilt threatened to drown her.

    Up in her room, Dolores writhed on her bed. Señora Sanchez struggled to keep her still. The Madrigal had feared the worst when she could not pick out Mariano's strong heartbeat among her family's, but the moment Isabela's words had reached her ears, her heart shattered into a million unfixable pieces.

    Her mamá appeared in the doorway. Anxious windstorm and all.

    "Mamá." Dolores reached out as tears poured from her eyes. She begged with all her heart and soul. "Mamá, please tell me it's not true. Mariano's here. He has to be! Please. Please."

    There was a light sprinkle of rain in the room as Pepa's eyes flooded with tears. Her expression crushing what little hope Dolores desperately clung to. She shook her head slowly, wincing as another anguished wail broke from her daughter's lips.

    Pepa cradled Dolores as she sobbed and shook, bending over her body and shielding her from the rain. She desperately wished she could shield her daughter from the cruel reality of the situation as well. But nothing could change the fact that her daughter was now a widow and about welcome her fatherless children into the world.

    In that moment, Dolores truly felt as though she was going to pass away from broken heart as pain overwhelmed her senses, both physical and emotional. The next long hours were horrendous as she tossed and turned, trying to process her sorrow and the increasing contractions that wracked her body. She wept openly, clutching tight to her mamá. Her only rock in the storm of despair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ be warned. Labor scene

    Isabela dabbed at Dolores' sweat-covered forehead as she gasped and panted. In spite of her aversion to birth and blood, the eldest grandchild had refused to let her cousin go through this alone. The contractions were coming in frequent waves now. Her voice broke as she attempted to comfort her distraught prima, "It's okay. You're doing so good. It's almost time."

    She only received a pained whimper in response. Half a day had passed since her water had broke.

    Pepa had refused to be kicked from the room but had been relegated to the corner of the room due to her storming. She watched anxiously, gripping tight to her umbrella.

    For Dolores, the cool winds from her mamá offered the smallest sliver of reprieve from the burning that had engulfed her entire body. She didn't have the energy to speak anymore, not when it felt like a stake had been driven straight through her heart. 

    Señora Sanchez lifted her skirt, checking to see if she was dilated enough. Both relief and dread flooded Dolores when the woman nodded and told her, "Dolores, when the next contraction hits, you need to push."

    When a fresh wave of pain hit, Dolores bore down and pushed for all she was worth. Again and again, she pushed. Her breath came in short, painful gasps and her strength began flagging as she grew frustrated as no progress was seemingly made. Her clothes and sheets had long since been soaked through by her sweat and other bodily fluids. 

    After one entire hour of laboring, Dolores screamed, startling everyone in the room, including herself. Up until that point, she had done her best to suppress her agonized groans, but gone was any effort to spare her ears as complete, torturous pain exploded from between her legs.

    "Good job, Dolores. I can see the head." The midwife's even tone infuriated Dolores. If she had the strength, she would've reached over and strangled the woman for being so calm while she was in agony.

    Dolores kept on screaming until her cries were joined with the shrill, gurgling cries of her first child. Her mind immediately catalogued the newborn's strong unique heartbeat.

    "It's a boy!" announced Julieta joyously, gently cradling the slimy little bundle. She had slipped into the room the moment she was alerted Dolores had entered active labor.

    Overjoyed hail from Pepa pitter pattered from the corner of the room.

    Dolores groaned. The contractions hadn't stopped their intensity and her body loathed at the prospect of pushing out two more children. Slick splattered from between her legs.

    She felt lightheaded, on the verge of passing out. Anything to escape this madness. However, against her wishes, her body endured. The pain stimulated her to stay conscious, despite it all feeling like a fever dream at this point. 

    She didn't hold back her screams and grunts, but something with the second child seemed to go wrong. After another thirty minutes of exhausting labor, no progress was being made, and this seemed to worry Señora Sanchez. Dolores' anxiety spiked as she overheard the women discuss that the baby was in breech and what their options were.

    "Mamá?!" Isabela's alarmed tone grabbed everyone's attention in a chokehold. 

    For the most part, she had made a wondrous effort at keeping her gaze pointedly fixed on any portion of her prima above the waist. However, her eyes had accidentally wandered and caught sight of the bright red pooling onto Dolores' skirt and bedsheets. So much blood. Too much. That couldn't have been normal. Isabela felt sick to her stomach as she pointed to the crimson liquid.

    She didn't like how the women's faces looked stricken. 

    Señora Sanchez shook her mamá's arm. "We need to get the babies out now!"

    The women took action quickly. Dolores was practically delirious, but whether it was from the pain or blood loss, she had no idea. She shrieked, writhing on the bed as the last two babies were practically dragged from her body.

    Isabela, who had been tasked with holding Dolores still, apologized profusely. She flinched at the volume of the agonized cries of her usually docile cousin. Tears dripped down her face, not even able to imagine the torture Dolores was in.

    Finally, Dolores' senses began fading and she was only vaguely aware of her family calling out her name before her vision went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Mariano jolted awake, gasping for air and feeling his body. Odd. He felt no pain whatsoever. He yelped and scrambled back when a hand was extended to him, reaching for any available weapon in arm's reach. Though the man appeared harmless enough and vaguely familiar, he wasn't taking any chances and demanded, "Who are you?"

    The stranger held up his hands placatingly. His expression was sad and pitying as he answered, "I am Pedro."

    Mariano frowned and squinted at the man. It took a moment for horrible realization to sink in. He tentatively asked, "Pedro? As in... Pedro Madrigal?"

    The lost Madrigal patriarch nodded and helped the stunned man get to his feet. 

    Mariano shook his head, backing away in denial. "No. No, I can't– I have..."

    The words died in his throat as he stared at his broken body that lay bruised and unmoving beneath chunks of stone. That was him. He jerked his body in the direction of Pedro, crying out in a desperate, broken voice. "Señor, please! Send me back. I have– I have to return to my wife. I have to meet my niños."

    Pedro's shoulders slumped and his expression filled with pain on behalf of his grandson-in-law. "Believe me. If I had the power to send you back, I would, and I would be at Alma's side in an instant." He swallowed thickly. "But I cannot do that. However, I can guarantee you will see your niños." He gestured for the young man to follow him. "Come with me."

    Mariano lit up with hope at the news he would see his kids, but that hope soon wilted as Pedro began to explain their current state of being as they walked.

    "Hijo, I cannot lie. We are now ghosts among the halls. In a way, it is a fate better yet worse than being completely wiped from existence. We are only spectators, not allowed to intercede or interact with our family among the living. You will see your children and you will get to watch them grow, but that is all we can do."

    Mariano let out a shaky sigh, bowing his head as he processed his future. "Then I will watch and love them with all my heart."

    Pedro smiled softly. "I know you will and I know you already do."

    When they reached the Madrigal house, Mariano froze for a moment, taking in the chaos that was unfolding. It wasn't just the Madrigals that were occupying the courtyard. Over time, folks had begun trickling in, bringing the injured with them for Julieta to heal. Mariano pitied the healer as she and her family scrambled around, offering food to the wounded.

    Bruno sat shaking in the corner and mumbling to himself with his hands tightly folded in what appeared to be prayer. Occasionally, he would toss a handful of salt over his shoulder.

    He cracked his eyes open, gasping and staring straight at Pedro and Mariano.

    Mariano froze midstep. "Can he see us?"

    "No?" Pedro's response didn't sound too certain.

    Bruno screwed his eyes shut even tighter and words began tumbling from his mouth ever more fevently.

    Before they could investigate, Pepa burst from Dolores' room and shouted for her sister, which spurred Mariano into action, taking the stairs two at a time. 

    "Julieta! JULIETA! It's time!"

    Mariano's heart dropped as he entered the room and caught sight of his wife sweating and panting on the bed. If anything, it appeared as though she had single-handedly fought every single bandit. But to Mariano, his wife looked more radiant than ever. He and Pedro hovered by her side and Mariano wished more than anything that he could let Dolores know he was right by her side as she labored.

    Panic overtook him when complications began arising and Dolores' screams pierced his heart. If he were physically in the room, he was certain he would've passed out from the sight of so much blood. 

    Isabela looked to be almost on the brink of being sick but she put on a bold face like her mother.

    Pepa, though she clearly didn't want to, forced herself out lest a hurricane start forming in the room.

    So much began happening at once. Mariano didn't have time to revel in the joy of his new child as his wife strained to deliver the other two. He felt guilty, but he had to look away when they had to reach in and pull the other two babies out. It was brutal and even the seasoned Señora Sanchez appeared worried.

    More activity and panic ensued as the womens' attentions were stretched in multiple directions all at once. 

    Alma's face was pale as she stood off to the side, gently cradling Mariano's firstborn son. 

    Señora Sanchez and Julieta focused on the two babies. Both girls. Both so silent and still. Every second after their violent birth was critical and every second they did not breath did the hope of life vanish.

    Mariano watched with bated breath, willing his daughters to live. 

    A quiet cough. Then—praise Dìos! Movement and a sharp, gurgling cry rang out from the child in Julieta's arms. But relief could not be felt yet as the healer quickly handed the baby to Alma, focusing on the still heartbreakingly quiet form in Señora Sanchez's arms. 

    Their efforts were fruitless and tears pricked Mariano's eyes as the women shared a despairing look, shaking their heads.

    Pedro walked over, his eyes shining with emotion as he gently lifted his great granddaughter from the women's hands. Her physical body still remained lifeless, but her spirit wriggled around and cooed lightly as Pedro reverently handed her to Mariano. 

    The young man broke down. Great, heaving sobs shook his body as he gently held his daughter to his chest. How much? How much loss must his wife live through?!

    "Dolores! Dolores, stay awake!" Isabela's panicked cries garnered the attention of everyone as the young woman's eyes rolled up into her head.

    As the women scrambled to resuscitate Dolores and Julieta quickly set to work massaging a chunk of arepa down her sobrina's throat, the room seem to melt away before Mariano's eyes leaving just him and the disoriented figure of his wife. She blinked and looked around, trying to get her bearings before locking her eyes with him.

    Mariano wanted to run up to her, shout, say something, but it was as if there was a barrier between them and great lead weights had been fastened to his feet and lips. The same seemed to be happening to Dolores as she stood rooted in her place. Her form unsteadily flickered in and out, oscillating between solid and translucent.

    He could see her momentous effort as she took a step toward him. Her form grew just a touch more solid.

    Wait. 

    As much as he so wanted to sweep his wife off her feet and hold her tight, this wasn't right. It wasn't her time yet. It couldn't be. They still had two niños who desperately needed a parent.

    Fighting against the weight sealing his lips shut, Mariano began hum a soft melody, quiet at first but soon growing in volume. Eventually, he managed to open his mouth in gentle song. The same song he had sung just the night before. 

    Dolores froze and listened.

Recuérdame
Hoy me tengo que ir, mi amor
Recuérdame
No llores, por favor

Te llevo en mi corazón
Y cerca me tendrás
A solas, yo te cantaré
Soñando en regresar

Recuérdame
Aunque tenga que emigrar
Recuérdame
Si mi guitarra oyes llorar

Ella con su triste canto te acompañará
Hasta que en mis brazos estés
Recuérdame

    He choked out at the end in a voice barely above a whisper, "Mi amor, take your time. I'll see you on the other side."

    The pain that flooded her expression was more than his heart could bear. He watched as she tilted her head, listening to something distant. He strained, hearing it too. The sharp wails of his other two newborns. 

    Great effort weighed her movements as she reluctantly turned from him, casting a longing look over her shoulder. But... the insistent cries called her back. They needed a mother.

    And just like that, she was gone and Mariano was back in her room where Julieta heaved a giant sigh of relief. The healer rapidly muttered her thank to Dios as she wiped the sweat from her brow, finally registering the heartbeat and steady breaths of her sobrina.

    The moment Dolores' eyes fluttered open, Isabela carefully pounced on her and the primas simply held each other, relief pouring into both of them.

    After the effort of shifting so the bed could be cleaned, awe and deep affection filled Dolores' gaze as Abuela approached with her young. Still weak and shaky from the entire ordeal, Señora Sanchez and Abuela helped settled Dolores and the newborns so they could nurse.

    Pretty soon, Dolores drifted off to sleep, sheer exhaustion taking over. Isabela, despite her own exhaustion, refused to leave her prima's side during the night.

    As the other women carefully tiptoed from the room, Abuela paused in the doorway to stare at her nieta's expression, still troubled even in her sleep. Her heart broke for the all too familiar tragedy playing out right before her eyes. How could this have happened again? "Pedro, take care of him. Please," she prayed quietly as she closed the door.  

    Even through her grief, determination seized Alma as she vowed to not let her granddaughter languish in her loss alone as she had all those years ago.

    Mariano stayed vigilantly at his wife's side throughout the night, carefully cradling their lost daughter. Occasionally, the heavy silence in the room was broken by family members quietly peeking into the room to check on Dolores and the babies.

    Bruno's visit in particular was painful to watch because it was clear the seer blamed himself for the entire ordeal despite his visions having no effect on the outcome of the future.

    Life had ripped a fresh, gaping wound in Dolores' heart. It would take a long time to heal. Perhaps it never would fully heal, but Mariano was certain that the Madrigal family would not let her carry the burden of despair alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A few days later, a memorial was held in the village to honor the dead. Dolores didn't go, still weak from the difficult birth and the fact that her two children were far from ready to face the outside world. However, she listened with her head bowed and tears trailing down her cheeks.

    Mariano had yet to abandon her side, his daughter still in hand. He futilely attempted multiple times to brush the tears from her eyes.

    Dolores' mamá, papá, brothers, and children were all curled up in her parents' room. They leaned comfortingly against her as she listened to Isabela tearfully give her eulogy down in the village.

    Noticing her attempts to stifle her sobs, her father pulled her close and gently encouraged her, "Mija, let it out."

    And Dolores did. Great keening cries came in between her choked, hiccuping breaths. 

    After what seemed like hours, her weeping slowed. Antonio timidly asked, hoping to take her mind from her sorrow, "What are their names?"

    Dolores stiffened, glancing down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Antonio was absolutely enamored with his new nephew. In a thick, scratchy voice, she admitted, "Me and M... Mariano talked about it." She touched her son with a shaking hand. They all strained to hear her breath, "...Pedro." 

    Pepa's mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. Mamá would love that.

    In spite of herself, Dolores let out a broken laugh as she recounted with a distant look in her eyes, "If we had a second son, he pushed for the name Mariano." She pointed to her daughter, snuggly tucked away in Camilo's arms. "...Maria."

    "And..." Grief overtook her features. "Vanesa."

    Pepa reached over pulling her daughter close, just as she had when Dolores was just a baby herself. "Those are wonderful names."

    Even as she said that, Pepa couldn't help the traitorous thought in the back of her mind that maybe she had made a mistake in naming her daughter. 

    Dolores. Sorrows.

    Her baby didn't deserve all these sorrows.

    Mariano beamed, wholeheartedly agreeing with his mother-in-law's words as he glanced down at his little girl. Vanesa. What a perfect name (and perfect was not a word used lightly in the Madrigal household). What perfect names for all his children.

    For Dolores, her chest tightened uncomfortably whenever she looked into the eyes of Pedro and Maria. Though so little, she could already see Mariano in them. And it hurt. It hurt more than words could ever explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Dolores whimpered and pulled the pillow over her head. A full night of unbroken rest was but a distant memory. Finally, she mustered the strength to sit up. Resisting the urge to draw her hands over sensitive ears, she made her way over to the two cribs in her room where the piercing wails of her niños emanated from.

    "Please. Shhh," quieted Dolores in a pleading voice as she lifted the two into her arms. She was nearly on the verge of tears herself.

    She attempted to get them to nurse but they refused. She checked their diapers. Nothing. They didn't seem to be sick or injured. What could be wrong?

    She continued to plead with them to quiet down as she hefted them over to the rocker. After what seemed like agonizing hours, Pedro and Maria drifted off to sleep. Apparently, all they needed was their mother's loving touch. Too scared to jostle them and begin the vicious cycle again, Dolores stayed in the rocker through the rest of the night.

    Mariano now completely understood Abuelo Pedro's words when he had mentioned this being a fate far worse than being wiped from existence. He felt so utterly helpless. There his wife sat, so alone and exhausted yet he could do nothing to ease her burdens. He could not even reach out and touch her, whisper to let her know he had not abandoned her. He couldn't be a loving husband and a father.

    The hours stretched by and finally it was morning. Dolores could hear her family begin to stir. As if on cue, Pedro and Maria also began stirring, whining softly. She pulled down her loose gown, allowing them to nurse. After finishing, Pedro promptly threw up and began bawling, causing his sister to start up as well.

    Their mother let out a minute sigh, letting her head fall back and heavy eyes close for just a moment. Great. Another day that she wasn't ready to stumble through. If this was motherhood, she must be doing a woefully pathetic job of it.

    If it weren't so tragic, Dolores would probably break out in hysterical laughter at it all. How could something that had once seemed like wonderful dream turn into such a disastrous nightmare? 

    Happy, wholesome family? Ha. What a delusional joke.

    Just a broken-hearted widow with her thre– two children trying to make it through another agonizing day.  

    She had reached her limit a long time ago, yet here she sat, alive. Why? This didn't feel like living. It barely felt like surviving. It was just... nothing.

    The door creaked open, breaking her from her thoughts. Isabela and Camilo poked their heads in, the former making a wounded sound at the state of her cousin who blearily gazed back at them. The bags under her prima's eyes rivaled Tío Bruno's. It scared Isabela how under the grief, how utterly hollowed out her cousin appeared.

    Camilo easily shifted into his hermana's form, scooping up both bebés. He already deduced that she had spent the entire night awake for her kids. "You could've come get one of us, y'know."

    Dolores shoulders sagged as she curled in on herself. She gave a sort of half shrug, letting her gaze fall to her lap. "I... no sé. You shouldn't have to—"

    "I love mi sobrinos," interrupted Camilo at once. Sure, it had been an issue in the past of people overusing him as a babysitter but not anymore, especially not for his niece and nephew.  "I don't mind. Lola, you need your rest too."

    "And you need to take care of yourself," added Isabela. She nodded to Camilo who took the two babies downstairs to be cleaned up and doted upon by the rest of the family.

    Dolores tried to protest but her prima reassured her. "It's okay. He's got them. They'll be fine."

    After changing into a fresh gown, Dolores collapsed into bed. Isabela tenderly ran her fingers through her coarse hair, frowning a bit. "Lola, when was the last time you took care of your hair?"

    The tired mother shrugged. 

    Isabela pressed a kiss to her temple. "That's okay. I'll take care of it."

    The barest hint of a smile graced Dolores's lips as she fell asleep as her prima so kindly rubbed oils into her hair. Deep gratitude settled beside the ache in her heart. Her family was so wonderful.

    What felt like only a few minutes later, Dolores was awoken by her tía gently shaking her shoulder. The healer spoke lowly, "Lo siento. I just wanted to see if you wanted anything to eat." She held up a tray with a little bit of everything laid out on it.

    Julieta's heart clenched as her niece shied back, shaking her head. Her gaze fell to the untouched plate of food she had delivered from dinner the previous evening.

    "I'm not hungry," mumbled the young woman.

    Julieta cupped her cheek as if Dolores were one of her own daughters. She begged, "I know, mi muñeca. But please, try. You need to eat to keep up your strength."

    Under the healer's watchful eye, Dolores managed to choke down enough morsels to partially appease her tía at least until the next meal. As she settled back down into the bed again, she was certain she would never have made it a day without her family's support.

    Beyond gratitude, guilt wormed its way into her heart. Hadn't she spent enough time grieving? She needed to pull herself from this despondency and be a mother. She shouldn't force her family to care for herself and her newborn niños, but it was difficult trying to convince her body to do anything. Her mind warred with her shattered heart. Pain intermingled with the heavy load of responsibility, leaving her crushed and empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A month passed and Dolores had yet to venture outside. The Madrigals had each done their fair share of coaxing, trying to lift her spirits. They didn't want to force her to do anything, but it was clear the family was growing increasingly concerned as she became thinner and more withdrawn. 

    Eventually, sweet, thoughtful, but incredibly stubborn and determined Mirabel marched up to her prima's door while being backed by the rest of the grandkids. They weren't taking no for an answer.

    "Dolores~" called Mirabel with a musical lilt in her tone as she swung open the door. "Let's go out for lunch."

    Her prima stared back at her with pitifully dull eyes. "No thanks. I—"

    "Ah bup-bup," cut off Mirabel. "Let me rephrase. You are coming to lunch with us."

    Dolores glanced down at Maria who she was currently nursing. 

    Mirabel excitedly pulled out two embroidered baby wraps, one orange and one scarlet, from behind her back. "All of you."

    The gift put a small smile on her face. Although weariness still clung to her features, she allowed them to lead her out the door and help carry her babies after Maria had finished being fed. 

    A small squabble had ensued between the grandchildren of who would get the honor of carrying Pedro and Maria. 

    "I'm their tío."

    "I'm her prima-melliza."

    "I'm the one who made all their clothes."

    Before the argument between Camilo, Isabela, and Mirabel could grow aggressive, Dolores simply handed Pedro to Luisa and Maria to Antonio. She trusted that they wouldn't turn holding her niños into a competition. Plus, the way they both cooed over her children, nearly on the brink of tears, was absolutely adorable.

    Lunch went relatively smoothly but going out into the village for the first time was a visibly difficult task for Dolores, especially when her appearance sparked gossip that she could hear all too clearly. Her hermanos and primas silenced any nearby talk with protective glares.

    Osvaldo and his giant, insensitive mouth just had to approach them, greeting them far too exuberantly. "Hola! Dolores! It's been a while since we've seen you. Aww, are these your kids?" he asked, pointing to Maria and Pedro. "Weren't there supposed to be three? Is the third little one staying with Abuela?"

    Heedless of the Dolores' flinch or the other Madrigal's deepening glares, the ignorant man barreled onward. "Y'know, I just know Mariano would be gushing over these bebés. You made some cute kids. It's a shame he'll never get to see them. The good ones always go far too soon."

    "Which is why you're still around," muttered Camilo darkly. He was this close to shifting into Luisa and bodily throwing the rude man away from them.

    Dolores hugged herself, focusing entirely on breathing and not spiraling. Isabela tugged her close to her side.

    "That mural is a great tribute—"

    "OSVALDO!" Praise heaven. There was a God. The angel that was Osvaldo's wife was sent to earth to shut up her thoughtless man. "Quit bothering the Madrigals! Shoo! Shoo! Standing around blathering does not put food on the table."

    As her husband hurried off, her stern expression melted away as she apologized to the clearly distraught Dolores, aware of just how often he put his foot in his mouth. 

    Knowing how fragile Dolores was at the moment, the other grandchildren figured that today had been strenuous enough and opted to head back to Casita when she asked, "What mural was he talking about?"

    They all clammed up before silently electing Isabela to be the spokesperson.

    "It's..." unlike Osvaldo, Isa chose her words carefully, "the people wanted to honor the sacrifices of our heroes. We weren't sure if–"

    "I want to see it," declared Dolores, quietly but firmly.

    Isabela took her hand in hers, leading the way. 

    The mural took up the entire wall. The artist had captured Pedro's and Mariano's auras beautifully. The eyes. The eyes drew her in. They held such love and devotion, such strength. How the artist had managed such a feat was beyond Dolores' comprehension. Her breathing hitched as she stared at them. 

    It scared the others how still she had become. No tears and hardly breathing at all as her eyes scanned the tribute to the Encanto's heroes. She read the words in bold, even as they sunk a knife deep in her chest as they reinforced the knowledge that she would never see her love again nor would she ever love again.

    Abuelo Pedro nudged Mariano's side as the young man stood, awestruck at the masterpiece. It was Mariano's first time seeing it too. 

    "It suits you perfectly," smiled Pedro kindly as he pointed to the giant looping letters across the wall.

    'To love at all is to love entirely.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    As Abuela padded to the kitchen for a glass of water, she caught sight of a faint glow shimmering from under Dolores' door. The rest of the family had gone to bed hours ago.

    When the elderly matriarch quietly entered, she was immediately thrown back decades ago when she herself was curled up at the foot of her bed with the weight of the world pressing in around her.

    There her nieta was sat on the ground in the same position with the same anguished countenance as she stared blankly toward where her two bebés slept peacefully in their cribs, unaware of the cruel world they were born into. Unaware of how utterly broken their mother was.

    Dolores didn't move or acknowledge her presence, though with her Gift, it was impossible for her to be unaware of Abuela there.

    "You should be in bed," murmured the old woman gently, craning her neck to smile at her bisnietos. Maria had started to show signs of inheriting her mother's lovely coiled hair.

    Her second eldest grandchild blinked sluggishly, finally tugging her gaze from her bebés to spare a glance at her Abuela.

    "Take advantage of the quiet while they sleep," encouraged Abuela. "They'll be okay. And if they start fussing, come get one of us." She was well aware how thin Dolores was stretching herself, trying to not burden the family. 

    She leaned down and placed a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Please don't shut everyone out as I did. It's okay to need help. We love you. You aren't a burden and it doesn't make you any less of a good mother."

    Dolores sucked in a shuddering breath. Her voice came out as a half sob. "But I'm not." 

    She slammed her hands over her ears in her instinctive form of distress as words tumbled from her mouth in an anguished confession. "I'm not a good mother. I love mi bebés but when I look at them I–I... sometimes I can't help but wish they had never been born."

    "Do you really wish that?" questioned Abuela, concern shining in her eyes.

    "I don't know!" cried Dolores. "They're the worst but they're also the only good thing in my life. I wanted this for so long, but now... I don't know. What kind of mother even thinks that?! What kind of mother wishes her children gone?! " 

    "A mother who is scared and wants to give only the best life to her children," began Abuela quietly, as she precariously bent her achy body to join her nieta on the floor, "a mother who went through so much pain and grief to bring her hijos into the world, a mother who has been forced to adapt far too quickly to motherhood on her own."

    Dolores shook her head, swallowing her tears as she questioned her Abuela. "How did you make it, Abuela? You had three. And I... I couldn't even deliver all three, much less—"

    "Dolores!" Alma's voice was sharp as she admonished her granddaughter. When the young mother flinched, Abuela instantly softened, working to comfort her, "Dolores, don't blame yourself." 

    She lifted her nieta's chin so she could meet her wounded gaze. "Look at me. You did nothing wrong and there was nothing you could've done to change the fate of your husband or daughter. I just know that Mariano is watching out for Vanesa right now with my Pedro. And they are proud." 

    From their spots in the room, Pedro and Mariano smiled and nodded in agreement. Mariano cuddled Vanesa to him. She was such a peaceful little angel.

    Alma spoke from the hard won wisdom she had earned, "Motherhood is no easy task. Your best might not be perfect and that is okay."

    Dolores nodded slightly in acknowledgement, allowing Abuela to lead her over to the bed and tuck her in. 

    Alma's heart ached as her gaze swept over to the dresser where there were photographs lying facedown. A familiar leather bound journal caught her eye. She held it up. "Dolores, have you read this?"

    Pain wracked Dolores as she glanced at the downturned frames and realized what Abuela was holding. She had taken up the habit of desperately avoiding any reminders of her late husband. She shook her head, answering in a small voice, "No."

    "You should," pressed Abuela gently. When Dolores squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the wretched wave of emotions, the elderly woman revealed with fondness in her tone as she carefully flipped through the pages, "Mariano told me about this." 

    She found what she was searching for on the final page. "My Pedro was a writer too, but there was one song he never got to finish. Mariano asked for my permission to complete it. He did a marvelous job." 

    Dolores somberly refused when Abuela held the book out to her, "I can't. He... wanted us to read it together..." A wounded understanding filled her abuela's expression as her voice trailed off.

    Mariano's face fell as he stared at the abandoned book and photos. He wanted so badly for his wife to read all the words he'd left behind for her.

    Alma placed the journal back down and left the room, leaving gentle words of comfort. "It's here whenever you're ready. But please, don't make the same mistake I did. Don't ignore your grief. Let us help you with your hijos to give yourself however long you need to heal."

   The young mother and widow swallowed, but promised herself to try to follow Abuela's advice despite how impossible it seemed to pull together her broken self.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Dolores felt her entire body begin drooping when she heard the early signs of her hijos waking. With insomnia and night terrors keeping her up at two in the morning, she had gone downstairs to get a cup of café to keep her sanity somewhat intact for the rest of the long day. Now, she found herself racing upstairs to head off a catastrophic meltdown.

    She didn't make it. 

    "I'm here, mi vidas. I'm here," soothed Dolores. Usually, they quieted down after being held and rocked for a little while but this time, their cries merely intensified. 

    Despite the powerful maternal instinct to help her children, she had to set them back in the crib as their shrieking howls rose to near deafening volumes. Her Gift simply intensified the sounds which seemed to pierce straight through her skull.

    Mariano instantly moved forward as if to catch her as she reeled back, her hands clutching at her now bleeding ears. She crumpled in a pitiful heap in the farthest corner of the room, shaking.

    Frustration bubbled over in Mariano. He needed to help! 

    His eyes scanned the room. He knew he couldn't interact with the living, but maybe he could interact with non living things? Pedro had never mentioned anything about that but he had nothing to lose trying.

    Wham! 

    Mariano cringed as the dull thud of his journal and a picture frame resounded in the cacophonous room. He was used to simply phasing through objects and thought he would need to apply a lot of force to make something move. Apparently not. He hoped the frame wasn't broken. 

    The unexpected sound startled Dolores and she tentatively opened one eye to see the fallen items. She did her best to wipe the blood from her ears onto her skirt before reaching out to reverently pick up the picture. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to peer at the photo.

    It was her and Mariano together after their first official date. On the back was a poem he had 'secretly' crafted just for her. Poor man. She practically knew it by heart by the time he had presented it to her. Since then, he had gotten slightly better at surprising her.

    She carefully set the photograph back on the dresser. This time, setting it upright. 

    Mariano had made sure that the journal lay open on the final page when Dolores picked it up. 

    She held her hand over her heart as she looked over her husband's familiar scrawl. She read through the song multiple times before daring to shakily sing, tilting her face heavenward. Her voice began as barely above a whisper.

Dos oruguitas enamoradas
Pasan sus noches y madrugadas

Pedro's and Maria's wails tapered off as if intrigued by this new melody.

Llenas de hambre
Siguen andando y navegando un mundo
Que cambia y sigue cambiando
Navegando un mundo
Que cambia y sigue cambiando

Dos oruguitas paran el viento
Mientras se abrazan con sentimiento
Siguen creciendo, no saben cuándo
Buscar algún rincón
El tiempo sigue cambiando
Inseparables son
El tiempo sigue cambiando

Ay, oruguitas, no se aguanten más
Hay que crecer aparte y volver
Hacia adelante seguirás
Vienen milagros, vienen crisálidas
Hay que partir y construir su propio futuro

Ay, oruguitas, no se aguanten más
Hay que crecer aparte y volver
Hacia adelante seguirás
Vienen milagros, vienen crisálidas
Hay que partir y construir su propio futuro

Dos oruguitas desorientadas
En dos capullos bien abrigadas
Con sueños nuevos
Ya solo falta hacer lo necesario
En el mundo que sigue cambiando
Tumbando sus paredes
Ahí viene nuestro milagro
Nuestro milagro
Nuestro milagro
Nuestro milagro

Ay, mariposas, no se aguanten más
Hay que crecer aparte y volver
Hacia adelante seguirás
Ya son milagros, rompiendo crisálidas
Hay que volar, hay que encontrar
Su propio futuro

Ay mariposas, no se aguanten más
Hay que crecer aparte y volver
Hacia adelante seguirás
Ya son milagros, rompiendo crisálidas
Hay que volar, hay que encontrar
Su propio futuro

Ay mariposas, no se aguanten más
Hay que crecer aparte y volver
Hacia adelante seguirás
Ya son milagros, rompiendo crisálidas
Hay que volar, hay que encontrar
Su propio futuro

https://youtu.be/_m26HKkl2oY

    Dolores' heart was racing as she finished the song. For just a fleeting moment, it felt as if she were wrapped in Mariano's comforting embrace, as if her husband was right there with her in the room.

    Her hijos gently cooed and babbled, finally calm. 

    She uttered a quiet, "Gracias," just knowing Mariano had had a hand in this somehow.    

    With her hijos cradled to her, she summoned the resolve to pad over to her parents' room and knock. 

    Félix opened the door. The bleariness of sleep immediately fell away from him at the sight of his daughter at the door, niños in hand, and dried blood on her ears. 

    Dolores nervously asked, not meeting his eyes, "Can you watch them? Please?"

    "Of course," answered Félix at once, his expression soft. Despite her clear hesitation in her request, he still felt as though this was a good step for his hija. She finally asked for assistance on her own accord. 

    When Dolores retreated back to her room, instead of catching a few precious hours of sleep before sunrise, she stayed awake, reading and weeping over the beautiful lines of poetry Mariano had left for her and their hijos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Bruno plopped himself down in the grass next to Dolores as she kept an eye out for Pedro and Maria as they played in front of Casita. The last rays of day bathed them all in a warm, golden glow. It amazed him how big his grand sobrinos were. Three years old! Where had the time gone?

    He could tell Dolores was asking herself the same question. Her large eyes had always been so expressive and had always been filled with a weight one her age should not have had to carry. Now, he also recognized the same lingering shadow of despair his mother had. He wondered if her hijos had picked up on it yet. They were now old enough to pick up on the fact that they had to use their inside voice around their mamá.

    Without meaning to, he blurted, "They're a lot like you, y'know?"

    His mouth snapped shut and he anxiously wrung his hands, fearful he had said the wrong thing.

    Dolores' expression morphed into a sort of bittersweet pride. "I know... They're like him too."

    She had long since cried all her tears over the death of her husband. Pained acceptance had taken the place of stabbing grief. Mariano might be gone but his legacy lived on in the lives of his children. It still hurt to see him in their eyes every time she looked at them, but that ache had lessened to dull throb.

    Isabela enjoyed lightly jesting from time to time that they had made the most adorable kids ever. If she and Mariano had married, they'd probably have created little abominations no matter how perfect a match the village had thought Mariano and Isabela were. 

    Dolores had to admit that, yeah, her children were darling, especially since they had gotten down the concept of quiet time. 

    Pedro took after his father a fair bit with his loud voice and silky hair. But the similarities didn't stop there. His mannerisms and the way he carried himself would remind Dolores so much of her husband. He meant well most of the time, but sometimes his good intentions only left him tripping over his own feet and in a heap of trouble.

    Recently, Maria had been sick with fever and while Dolores had been focused on tending to her, Pedro had somehow managed to slip away from his multiple babysitters (everyone got a tongue lashing from Dolores for that). With her Gift, Dolores had managed to find him easily enough on the outskirts of the village but that didn't mean he had given her any less of a fright. When given the chance to explain himself, he said he had wanted to find his sister's favorite flowers to cheer her up. He wanted it to be a gift just from him so that's why he hadn't asked his Auntie Isa for help.

    While Pedro tended towards his father, Maria tended towards her mother with her coily locks and demure demeanor. Despite her calm nature had the same fierce streak Dolores had inherited from her mother. It was always funny to see the little girl place her hands on her hips and glare at her brother, whisper shouting at him to be quiet when she sensed their noise level was hurting their mamá. 

    She was curious about everything and unlike her brother, there wasn't much danger of her wandering off because she shadowed everyone. It sometimes scared Bruno when she'd suddenly materialize behind him, staring up at him with the same wide eyes as her mother. After observing people for however long satisfied her curiosity, she'd either choose someone else to follow around or start babbling out questions rapid fire. It was all anyone could do to translate her toddler speak and answer her multitude of questions.

    Something both children had inherited from their parents was a love for stories and romance. It was like Mariano's and Dolores's sappiness had been combined and poured into both of their children. While adventure stories excitedly narrated and acted out by Bruno and Tío Camilo were all well and good, they constantly begged for love stories where the knight saves the princess and they lived happily ever after. No one read stories like that better than their mamá.

    They liked stories about their papá the best.

    "Mamá, look! Look!" called Pedro and Maria excitedly, pointing to the sky. "It flubberbyes!"

    "Aye, sí. Butterflies!" agreed Dolores, adept at understanding toddler talk. She grinned at their smiling faces as they raced up to her and Bruno tugging them forward to get a better view of swirling mass of golden-winged insects.

    Bruno and his niece were equally amazed as the niños at the beautiful display. He surveyed the scene, the setting sun making it appear almost ethereal. He blinked watching his grand sobrinos leap and race amongst the butterflies. 

    His heart skipped a beat. For just a split-second, he swore he saw a third little girl running and laughing with them. She jumped into someone's arms who spun her around, an equally delighted expression on their face. That someone was Mariano.

    And just like that their silhouettes were gone again, but Bruno knew what he had seen.

    He looked over at his sobrina with shining eyes.

    "Tío? Estás bien?"

    He nodded, knowing his voice would fail him. Despite not being the most tactile of the Madrigals, he pulled his surprised sobrina into a hug. He wished he were more eloquent so he could articulate just how proud he was of Dolores. Instead, all he managed to choke out, "You're doing good."

    Dolores seemed to understand all that was left unsaid, returning his embrace. She had suffered so much and had been on the verge of collapse but she hadn't. There was much to be said in that. While she often felt like a shadow of her former self, that was untrue. She had simply changed, adapted, grown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

https://youtu.be/Pjb7gwE9nbI

    Mariano dutifully observed as his children grew up. He knew Dolores' fear of raising her children without a good father figure. Growing up without one himself, Mariano had dedicated himself from the moment he discovered Dolores' pregnancy that he would make the effort to be the best father to his niños. 

    He would be loving and supportive, yet stern when the time called for it. He would teach them right from wrong.

    He promised to be present.

    He had broken that promise.

    However, Mariano's and Dolores' concerns of having to see their children struggle without a fatherly example were put to rest in the form of their wonderful Abuelo Félix and tíos. Eternal gratefulness for la familia Madrigal filled Mariano, yet he could not shake the quiet envy that surged through him every time Félix, Camilo, or Antonio got to interact with Pedro and Maria.

    His heart swelled with pride watching his niños grow. It hurt so much not being able to be there with them. They knew of him, Dolores made certain of that, but they never got to know him. And that just about destroyed him. But having Vanesa with him pulled him back from the edge of total despair.

    Little Pedro and Maria were inquisitive, going off in opposite directions as soon as they were mobile. Living in a living house had its advantages as Casita prevented many catastrophes involving flights of stairs and gaps in railings.

    It hurt as Vanesa quickly caught on that while she could see her siblings, she couldn't play and she couldn't directly interact with them. But his smart little hija found she could influence objects and items around them. In a way, it seemed Casita was aware of their presence as well, helping Vanesa subtly "play" with her siblings in her own way.

    Oh the niños. His heart was bursting with emotion every time he looked at them. His hands itched to pick up a pen and write. He had so much to say about them and to tell them; yet other times, they seemed to render him speechless. How were mere words enough to describe all that he felt?

    Their first smile, first laugh, first word, first step. So many firsts he missed sharing with his wife.

    He felt trapped, especially on the nights where he had to watch his wife crumble under her grief. He wanted to shake his fists at the heavens, asking why? Why couldn't he do anything?!

    But he knew, deep in his heart, that he had done his part and secured peace in the Encanto. He would bleed out all over again to keep his family safe and ensure a future where his niños could thrive. 

    And whenever he looked at his little mariposa, Vanesa, he knew why he'd been sent away. It was to ensure she would not be alone in the afterlife.

    Vanesa's looks was a cute blend of both her parents, but her personality and deep green eyes she inherited from her Abuela Pepa. Where her older siblings were more laidback, she was a mischief maker through and through. No doubt that if she was with her siblings, she'd be pulling them into trouble far more often. Her Tío Camilo and Abuela would adore her. 

    Mariano occasionally speculated that perhaps she had been sent away so early because life just couldn't handle her vibrant personality.

    Despite how agonizing it was to have to watch from a distance, it was still a gift to get to see his children growing up. Pedro's and Maria's smiles and laughter could light up the entire world. Little by little he saw the light return to Dolores and she smiled again. She would tuck them in and sing their song every night, the words bringing comfort to her just as much as to them.

    Their birthdays were always a difficult time. Dolores did her best to be happy and celebrate her hijos lives, but it was clear her heart ached with loss. She would look around the room at her family as Pedro and Maria excitedly tore into their presents, wondering how things would've looked different had her hija and husband with them. 

    Sometimes Mariano wondered if his wife could occasionally hear them. He hoped she could. He hoped he could hear him singing alongside her every night as she put their hijos to bed. He hoped she could experience Vanesa's joyous laughter alongside her siblings'.

    Their fifth birthday was fast approaching. The entire Gift Ceremony had been shrunk down to a family affair and the Madrigals had greatly lessened the emphasis on the importance of their Gifts. However, that didn't lessen the anxious energy buzzing in the air as preparations went underway. This would be the first ceremony Mirabel would be overseeing and the young women was obviously nervous about it. Not to mention, Dolores was fervently praying that her hijos got manageable and controllable Gifts for their sakes.

    When the day finally arrived, Dolores was busy fussing over her hijos, trying to wrangle them into their respective ceremony suit and dress. 

    Maria suddenly piped up. "Do you think papá is proud of us?"

    Dolores froze from the unexpected question, floundering for an answer. "O—of course, mija."

    They had asked questions about their papá in the past but eventually those questions had died off.

    Mariano was practically jumping up and down, screaming, "Sí! Sí! I couldn't be any prouder!"

    Vanesa giggled at her papá's antics. He had explained the whole Gift Ceremony thing to her as best he could and that she probably would not be getting one like her siblings. That didn't bother her too much because her papá and great grandpa Pedro didn't have Gifts and they were heroes. She didn't need one, but she was excited to see what her siblings would get.

    "I wish he coul' see us get our Gif's," said Pedro somberly, pulling at his formal clothes.

    "Me too," whispered Dolores, pain evident in her voice as she led them out.

    Understanding Mariano's obvious frustration, Abuelo Pedro placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. He gave him an encouraging smile, an excited twinkle alight in his eyes. "I know it's difficult, hombre. Let's go give ''em a show."

    Vanesa grinned broadly, raising her tiny fist in the air and running out ahead of them. "Yeah!"

    Mariano's head snapped up in bewilderment and slight suspicion. "You get to choose the Gifts?" Some of the Madrigals' Gifts were... questionable.

    Abuelo Pedro gestured vaguely as he shrugged. "Eh... not really. But I do have a say in their room and door design." He nodded to outside. "C'mon. Let's go watch your niños."

    Little Pedro and Maria appeared particularly small standing in front of their doors. They nervously glanced at each other and their family as they listened to Mirabel speak. When the time came, they took a deep breath and stepped toward their doors, placing their hands on the doorknobs.

    Light shone forth and Casita clacked delightedly. Pedro and Maria let out simultaneous gasps of amazement. The rest of the family silently leaned forward in anticipation, wondering what new Gifts would be bestowed upon the newest generation. 

    And Dolores... Dolores' heart stopped in her chest as her ears picked up on an achingly familiar heartbeat, accompanied by a smaller, faster one. She locked eyes with her lost beloved. The little girl at his side waved.

    Mariano gave a dopey grin, pointing at Pedro and Maria and gesturing wildly. He signed, 'I am so proud.'

    And just like that, more light from the doors engulfed him and he and their daughter was gone.

    Pedro and Maria pointed above their doors, completely disregarding the new design being inscribed. "Look, mamá! Butterflies!"

So... whaddya think? Did I do the angst right?

"Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words." - 1 Thessalonians‬ ‭4‬:‭13‬-‭18‬ ‭NIV‬‬