AN: Okay, so here is Pepa's chapter. I hope you'll like it. I don't think it's my best but, hopefully, it's up to your standards. Let me know if I made her too anxious or something. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Disney owns Encanto.


Thunder echoed in the sky as dark clouds rolled overhead. She was used to this, it's true, but that didn't mean she liked it. Another day of wielding her emotions to suit the people of Encanto was doing nothing to soothe Pepa's already sour mood. It had been nice, she'd been relaxing with her husband when she got called down by her madre. The farmers wanted rain as it had been dry the last couple of weeks and, as always, they couldn't simply haul the water themselves. No, she'd been sent down to the fields where they toyed with her emotions, getting her upset enough to cause a good rainfall for their crops.

The red-haired woman knew that it wasn't healthy. She knew that she should not be living her life this way. But it had been the same for forty-five years. Even when she'd argued till she was blue in the face, it had done nothing to dissuade Alma from forcing her and her siblings from running themselves ragged to help the village. It was even worse now, Pepa admitted to herself as she wrung some of the rainwater from her dress. Now it wasn't only her and her siblings, it was their children too. The thought that her children were suffering and she was unable to do anything about it hurt worse than any other. What kind of mother was she?

'It'll only be worse if we don't cooperate though.' The anxious woman thought to herself, remembering the times her hermano had refused to do visions.

The townspeople hated getting bad news, there was no doubt about that, but they hated his refusal to help even more. On the few occasions where he'd told someone no, the entire town ended up in an uproar, pressuring her younger triplet until he finally gave in. Then, if it was bad news, they spewed hateful words at him until he retreated once more to the safety Casita provided. Their mother never once put a stop to it, siding with the villagers more often than not. Pepa couldn't blame him for leaving, not when there were times she wished she could have followed.

"That's enough rain for today, Pepa." She heard her mamá's voice, turning to see the old woman standing under an umbrella mere feet away. "Clear skies. It's time to calm down."

Clear skies... oh how she hated those words sometimes. It was understandable why she couldn't show her emotions as freely as everyone else but it didn't mean she didn't feel hurt. Why should she have to feel happy or sad on cue? The natural weather of the world was always changing, just like her emotions, so why did she need to rein herself in? It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair but it was something she'd learned to live with decades ago when she was given her gift. So, taking deep calming breaths, she willed her sadness and grief away, locking it back in her heart for the next time the town needed rain.

"Is there anything else you need me to do?" She asked, smiling her best fake smile as she looked over the dripping landscape.

"No, that should be all for the day. Why don't you head home and change into some dry clothes... make yourself more presentable." Alma, replied, folding her umbrella back up now that the rain had ceased. "You did good today, mija."

The small amount of praise sent a shiver up Pepa's spine. It wasn't often that the matriarch offered such words so she'd learned to take it when she could. Turning towards home, her smile a bit more genuine, the woman sighed. She knew this wasn't the last time her emotions would be taken advantage of for the good of the community, it had happened far too often in the past for her to believe otherwise, but she also knew that her husband would be waiting for her return with open arms. She looked forward to curling up in Félix's strong arms and spending the rest of the day in his loving embrace.

Just as she was entering the front door, water dripping from her still very wet dress, Pepa noticed a piece of paper that hadn't been there when she left. It was unassuming, simply sitting on the ground just inside the doorway, easily missed if she hadn't stopped to take off her shoes. Curiosity peaked, the feisty woman hunched over to pick up the paper, being careful not to soak it in the process. Recognizing the handwriting from previous notes she'd gotten throughout the years, Pepa braced herself for what this one would hold.

Don't smother yourself to make others happy, let your emotions show.

She smiled to herself. If only it were that easy. Unfortunately, nothing was ever as simple as that when you were one of the magical Madrigals. Still, it was a nice thought. Maybe, if she ever met the person leaving these notes, she could let them know how grateful she was for the kind words. It's nice to know that there were some people, besides her immediate family, who saw her as more than just a quick fix for the weather.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Since the talk she'd had with her sister on the eve of their fiftieth birthday, Pepa had been thinking of her missing hermano more and more often. It caused her to have days where all she wanted to do was lay in bed, thinking of all the things she'd done that could have contributed to him running away. Did he think she still was upset about the wedding? She should have been more clear that he hadn't ruined it. Maybe it was because she'd stopped standing up to the townspeople for him. It couldn't be helped, they'd all been kept so busy that half the time she didn't realize he'd been cornered until much later... if at all. That thought was painful to swallow. She knew that her brother had been withdrawing and yet, she hadn't reached out to him in his moment of need... too focused on her own troubles to see how he was suffering. She knew that both her mamá and Julieta struggled with guilt as well, wondering if there was anything they could have done differently to prevent his departure.

The truth is, there were many things they could have done. They could have checked on him more, made sure the villagers weren't mistreating him, simply been there for him when he needed them. They'd failed Bruno in all the ways that mattered, they'd failed to be a family to him, and this was the price they'd paid. Forced to live with the knowledge that they'd driven one of their own away, the pain weighed heavily on their hearts. They didn't even know if he was still alive! With the light fading from his room, it seemed unlikely and still, she prayed that the darkened door simply meant he'd gone beyond Encanto's protected borders. Pepa had to have hope, otherwise, despair would take her in its icy grip and never let go. She couldn't allow that to happen... not when her children needed their mother.

"I miss you, hermanito." She whispered to the empty air, allowing the gentle rain from her cloud to cool her heated skin. "It's not a good day today. It's like I see reminders of you everywhere. I guess that's to be expected... this is the home we grew up in, after all."

The yellow-clad woman paused, allowing the tears to fall... the rain would mask them anyways so why bother concealing them. She was alone, there was no one to stay strong for in this moment, so she decided not to fight her feelings any longer and allow her suppressed grief to surface.

"Has it really been ten years?" She continued, facing the darkened door. She had no idea when she'd gotten here, her feet moving of their own accord. "I wish I'd been a better sister. I wish I could have protected you more."

She sighed, eyes closing for a brief moment as she thought of all the things she'd wished for over the years. A bitter chuckle escaped as she once more glanced at the abandoned doorway.

"I wish a lot of things." She murmured, barely more than a whisper. "Maybe if I'd spent less time wishing and more time doing then you wouldn't have felt the need to run."

Sinking to her knees, Pepa curled into herself. Years of suppressed emotions trying to tear themselves free. She breathed, bringing them back under control as the rain lessened to a gloomy drizzle.

'What did you see, Brunito?' She questioned for what had to be the millionth time.

Thinking back on that day, her brow creased. They'd searched his room, trying in vain to find her sibling's latest vision, but had failed to reach his vision cave. It was as if the house itself had turned against them. Every time they'd tried ascending the stairs, more grew, the ceiling stretching further into the distance. They'd finally given up when it was clear that there was no way they'd manage to reach the top. Barring it as off-limits, they had made sure their children would never enter her hermano's room in fear of them falling to their deaths or being buried alive in sand.

'I can't help but wonder if that vision could help us understand. Was it the reason you left or was it merely the last straw?' The middle sister pondered, finally rising to her feet, ready to head downstairs as the children would be returning home soon. 'Whichever it is, I wish you would have told us. Maybe we could have helped you.'

Dragging her feet, Pepa made her way into the kitchen. She may not be as skilled as Julieta but she could still manage to whip the kids up a snack after their long day of work. Gathering the necessary ingredients, the fifty-year-old set about making Plátanos Asados. It wasn't until she had finished and was bringing the prepared plates into the dining room that she noticed the paper sitting on the table. Taking it in hand, she swiftly read the note.

Not every day is good but there is good in every day.

The sound of her children returning home caused her attention to snap to the door. In came a grinning Camilo, swiftly followed by Dolores who had Antonio nestled in her arms, the small boy chattering about what his upcoming ceremony would be like. Their primas followed after, smiling softly as they made small-talk amongst one another. At that moment, the words written by the escritor misterioso rang true. It may not have been a good day overall but here, surrounded by the ones she loved, was a good moment.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

At this rate, Pepa was sure the stress was going to kill her. It was only a few short weeks until her hijo mas joven's door ceremony and there was still so much work to do. She had to make sure Antonio's day went perfectly! If the ceremony failed, as it had for her poor sobrina, she knew that Abuela would be terribly upset and would most likely direct her anger at her youngest grandchild. That was something Pepa would not allow to happen. It was bad enough how she'd turned on Mirabel. Before the girl hadn't gotten a gift, Alma had been so loving and kind but after that dreadful night, she'd turned cold and distant. It seemed that no matter what the fifteen-year-old did, it was never enough to please her abuela. The red-haired woman would not let her child suffer the same fate if she had any say in the matter. Thus, here she was, a dark cloud following after her, as seemed to be the norm nowadays, while she went over every detail of the party.

"Pepa, you have a cloud." The call came from the opposite side of the room and thunder crashed.

She gritted her teeth, hands clenched at her sides as she fought to bring her emotions back under control.

"Ay dios mio," The middle-aged woman exclaimed, soft enough that no one else would hear. "I know mamá but I can't help it, there's still so much to do."

The elder woman calmly approached her, gazing at her with a somewhat disappointed expression as she took her hand.

"Cálmate, everything will be fine." Her mother expressed, determination shining in her aged eyes. "Toñito's ceremony will go smoothly and the miracle will bless our family with a new gift. We must believe the best. Have faith, mija."

"Yes, you're right." The younger female breathed, sighing in relief as she was pulled into a quick hug.

She may not always agree with what her madre said or did but that didn't mean she didn't love her. Stepping back from the embrace, she smiled softly as the elderly woman tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, the cloud dissipating slightly as her panic lessened. Fond gestures like this had become more sparse as they'd aged. Back when she and her siblings were young, Alma had been much freer with her affection. However, as the town and her mother's responsibilities grew, that changed. Suddenly the hugs and fond words were no longer proper unless hidden behind closed doors. There were many times throughout the years when she wished she could return to those simpler days, back to when they were free to be themselves without fear of disappointing the community.

"I'd best be going," Alma said, turning away. "I have a meeting to attend with the town elders. Try not to stress so much, Pepa. The town expects good weather for the rest of the week."

And just like that, the good mood she'd found herself in after such a pleasant interaction with Alma disappeared into the growing cloud above her. Holding herself together until the matriarch was out of sight, Pepa's thoughts spiraled. Was that the only reason she'd comforted her? Because the town wanted nice weather? Whatever, it didn't matter. She decided right then and there that she would be better off not thinking of that. Instead, she would get back to work on preparations for her child's party.

That night, after she finished with everything she'd been working on throughout the day, Pepa was exhausted. She still had a lot to do, they all did, but she'd made a good dent in the preparations. It eased her thoughts a bit, though she still couldn't shake the cloud that was her constant companion. She knew that if things continued as they were that she would end up causing a storm. The green-eyed woman didn't want that. She didn't want the sense of failure that came with being unable to keep her emotions in check and she most definitely did not want the whispers of the townspeople following her everywhere she went after one of her breakdowns. It always happened. Every time she failed to give them the weather they desired they would speak behind her back as if she weren't there. It was something her sister rarely had to deal with, mostly reserved for herself and Bruno. At least with her, they never got physical. Everyone knew that if they tried anything all it would take was a well-aimed lightning bolt and they'd be down for the count.

Figuring it would be better to calm down before she accidentally released the brewing storm, Pepa made her way into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Once it was finished, the woman headed into the sitting room, picking up the book she'd left on the table several days before. It was late, that's true, but she knew she'd be unable to sleep for a while. So, with Casita igniting enough candles so she could easily see the words, she settled down for some late-night reading. It soothed her thoughts, letting her cloud lighten a bit. Lately, it seemed as if her mood had grown darker and she wasn't sure why. It was probably a combination of her stress and the expectations placed upon her. After nearly an hour, the woman decided she was finally tired enough to attempt sleep. Pepa went to place the book back on the side table before rising, only to stop short upon seeing the note. How did it get there without her noticing? That was a question that would probably never have an answer. Pushing it from her mind, the redhead picked up the paper.

The brightest rainbows come after the darkest storms.

Her cloud thundered once, as if agreeing with the statement, and a smile split her face. Well, at least she had something to look forward to once everything eventually blew over. She's sure that when the day of the party arrives and her little Antonio gets his gift, she'll make the most beautiful rainbow Encanto has ever seen. Until that fast-approaching day arrives, she'll simply have to keep her storm in check. How hard can it be? After all, she's been doing it for the last forty-five years.


AN: Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think :)