I do not own Encanto. This story is not for profit.

Chapter 45

November 10th

Morning

Félix

As Felix got dressed in the morning, he muttered, "I'll be glad when we have our own house and I don't constantly have to worry about Dolores and Mariano."

"Why would having our house back make a difference?" Pepa asked as she put on her earrings.

"She's living with him, and they're not even engaged yet. It's indecent. Besides." He scowled at himself in the mirror, noticing he'd mis-buttoned the top of his shirt. He rebuttoned it. "Why does she have to be so interested in Mariano?"

"What's wrong with Mariano?" Pepa asked.

"What's wrong with Mariano? What isn't wrong with Mariano?"

Pepa wound her arms around him from behind and snuggled him. "I get it," she sing-songed. "It's because he's everything you're not. Right?"

"What?" Félix huffed.

She kissed his cheek. "I love you, but sometimes, you're not very perceptive."

Félix grumbled. "What's Mariano got that I don't?"

"Hmm…height?"

"Hey." Félix spun to face her.

"I know you're comfortable with yourself, but Dolores falling for someone tall and European Spanish is messing with you."

Félix scowled and looked away, furious with himself that her suggestion was even a little bit true.

"Have a heart to heart with Mariano," Pepa said. "Try to understand what Dolores sees in him. Because it might not be skin deep. You're thinking she's all hormones, but is that really our Dolores? I bet what she sees in him is a little deeper than him being tall and European Spanish."

"Fine, I'll talk to him." He knew his wife wasn't really making a request.

She kissed his cheek again. "Thank you."

"But I refuse to accept that my biggest problem with him is that shallow." He hugged Pepa to him. "I want him to be right for this family. I want him to understand. And I don't think he does."

"Did you?" Pepa asked.

"I was 3 years old when I saw your madre defeat the soldiers, and it feels like yesterday," Félix said. "I understood right then." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "I've always known that if anyone comes to Encanto to try to hurt us, you would destroy them like your madre did. They would face the wrath of God, channeled through you."

Pepa melted, kissing him passionately.

Consequently, they were among the last people to arrive for breakfast. The only person later than them was Camilo.

xxx

After breakfast, Félix sidelined Mariano while the others went ahead to the new house. "You and I need to have a talk."

Mariano, wide-eyed, allowed Félix to pull him away. "Yes, sir."

Félix took Mariano back to the kitchen. "You've grown up here in the Encanto, right? Never seen the outside. Never been hungry or cold. Never seen your mother in any kind of danger. Right?"

Mariano was silent but attentive.

"I was 3 years old when my family followed Alma and Pedro Madrigal across the river. I was small, but I remember it vividly. Pedro made sure we all got across. Alma defeated the men chasing us. Don't ask me how. She made the golden light appear that blasted those men away from us, and she made the mountains rise. Oh, sure, you can say it was God, but she was God's instrument." Félix shook his head. "I have never seen anything so incredible since. But I know, I know in my heart, that if we were in danger, Alma would use her magic again."

"I thought her magic was the candle," Mariano said.

Félix gestured. "Alma made these mountains. She made Casita. Anything stone and earth, anything meant to protect and shelter, she can make it. I know that's her Gift. I saw it myself, with my own eyes. It was her. Maybe she didn't know what she was doing. I don't know. I saw her stick her hands into the ground, and the golden magic pulled the mountains up like they'd been sleeping underneath the whole time, waiting to be released. It was magnificent. I've thought a lot about it since. And you see how powerful Pepa is. Where did that power come from? Her powerful madre. Julieta and Bruno, too. Powerful. Amazing. It's in their blood. God chose special bloodlines in the past to carry out his wishes, didn't he? It wasn't just anyone."

Mariano's brow furrowed. "And you're saying…?"

"Dolores has that blood, too. That magic blood." Félix met Mariano's gaze and stared into the eyes of the boy who thought he was good enough for Dolores. "Your babies will have that magic blood. Do you understand what it means? Because I do. I've raised two magic children, and then a third one came along who still needs his Papá. All of them, incredible. Magic powers I can't dream of. Do you know what that's like?"

Mariano didn't answer for a moment. "No, sir."

"It means that I can't help them. I'm the most powerless man in the world. How are you going to cope with that feeling when you're the father of my daughter's children?"

Mariano seemed stunned.

Félix nodded slowly. "When Dolores was given her Gift, I wasn't ready. I couldn't do anything to help her with all the things she was hearing. She heard everything. Do you understand me? Everything. She didn't know what she was hearing, but she could hear it. When she grew old enough to understand what men do with women behind closed doors, what it was that she was hearing, that's when it started to bother her. She's heard everyone in the Encanto having sex."

Mariano flushed deeply. "I-I thought she could choose –"

"Choose what to hear? If only. She hears everything. She heard everything. Literally everything."

"That's awful."

"There's a chance her Gift could come back. You wouldn't have any secrets from her. Nothing. You understand me? You'd be living under a magnifying glass. If there's anything you're hiding, anything at all, she'll find out."

Mariano's brow furrowed. "I don't have any secrets."

"Everyone's got secrets. And if you think Dolores doesn't know them, too, you're a fool. Just because she's not talking about it doesn't mean she doesn't know. Dolores had God's own hearing."

Mariano's jaw clenched. "I've got nothing to hide, Señor."

"How will you feel when your children inherit magic that you know nothing about and can't help them control? You'll become like a baby to them. How do you discipline them? How do you parent them if they are like gods?"

Mariano looked bewildered. "I will love them. And I'll be relying on Dolores and all of the Madrigals with magic to help me. I won't have to parent them on my own. How could I do such a thing with even an ordinary child?"

Félix relented. "I just needed to hear that you've thought about it. I don't want you to go on dating Dolores if you don't have any idea what the future is like if you do win her heart."

"I've thought about it, Señor, and I am not afraid. I love her."

"Keep loving her, every day of her life, and we won't have a problem. And as long as I'm around, I'm going to keep you accountable. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right, let's get to work. We've wasted enough time talking."

They walked to the new house together.

When they arrived, Dolores descended on Mariano like a protecting angel. "No kissing, only working," Félix scolded as Dolores rescued Mariano from him. He had no illusions about what Dolores was doing; she wanted to make sure that he hadn't said anything too harsh to Mariano and that Mariano was still interested in marrying into the family.

He got to work helping the rest of the town men finish the roof. It was hard work, and dangerous now that Isabela couldn't rescue them with vines, Luisa wasn't super strong, and Julieta couldn't heal. But it needed to be done. They just took more precautions.

xxx

By lunchtime, they had made significant progress, and Félix had worked up a sweat and an appetite. As everyone was standing around talking, eating, and laughing, Camilo approached Félix from the side. "Pá? I need to talk to you." He tried to play it off casual, but Félix could always see through his son's performances.

Felix stacked his empty plate on top of the others being collected and followed his son a ways away from the crowd. "What did you do now?"

Camilo looked genuinely shocked. "What? Nothing!" His expression morphed into anger. "Why does it always have to be that I've done something? I can't need help? I'm not as important as Dolores or Antonio? Is that it?"

Félix was caught off guard. He tapped his stomach with one hand and looked away, uncomfortable. "No, that's not it." He glanced at Camilo. "Lo siento. It's been a stressful time lately. You know that. But you can always come to me for help. What is it?"

Camilo's head bowed. "Never mind." Then, slowly, he straightened and raised his head. "You know what? Not never mind." He met Félix's gaze with a burning look. "I want you to know."

"Know what?"

"Maybe I mean that I want to know. If it's true." Camilo squared his shoulders.

"If what's true?"

"Do you pretend to be happy sometimes?"

Felix stared at his son. How can you ask me that? He saw dozens of missed opportunities with sudden clarity: all the times that he had misinterpreted his son, all the times his son had misinterpreted him, all the times that he'd thought he was holding his family together, but he was tearing them apart.

He pulled Camilo into a hug. Camilo went limp in his arms, and then hugged him back. "Listen," he murmured. "Happiness is…a complicated idea. Happiness can happen even in the presence of pain. I never meant to tell you that there is such a thing as being happy all the time without other emotions present too. I can be happy and angry and sad all at once. Our hearts are big enough for these things. Life is complicated. It's not all black or white, hell or heaven. We all are a mix of emotions."

"Pá." Camilo's voice cracked. "Sometimes it hurts so much I want to die."

Félix held his son tightly. "Then you are very much like your mother." Don't go. Give me a second chance. I thought I could see through you, but I couldn't. I missed all the signs. Don't go. "I love her, so I love you. You're my son. I will always love you. You don't need to be anyone but who you are."

"What if I don't know who that is?" Camilo's voice was tiny.

Félix was tempted, sorely tempted, to demand what his son meant by that. But he glanced up by some instinct and saw Bruno standing at the other end of the house, watching them from the second story. The stoic, sad, watchful expression on Bruno's face told him that his brother-in-law already knew everything that Camilo was saying. Bruno's steady gaze held him accountable. He thought through his words carefully as his gaze dropped back to his hurting son. "Camilo, knowing who you are takes a lifetime. None of us know who we are. I would say I only have it half-figured out myself. There are still things about myself I don't know. Only God knows. Every new day tests us and causes us to ask ourselves who we are. I think maybe we live our identities one day at a time."

"One day at a time?" Camilo raised his head off of Félix's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "That's all there is?"

"I don't know if that's all there is, but it's all I've got. And lately, I've been asking myself who I am, too." Félix held his son's gaze. He never expected to tell anybody about his private thoughts. Smiling for Pepa's sake was so much a part of his life at this point that he did it without thinking. Anyone who needed cheering up, he cheered up. That was how he had found meaning in this awe-inspiring magical family. And, especially, taking care of Pepa and making sure she didn't go back to the way she was when they were growing up was his job, a self-appointed job out of love. He had never imagined that this would injure anybody, much less his son.

Tears welled up in Camilo's eyes, and his chin trembled, but he swallowed his tears. "Te amo mucho, Papá."

"Te amo mucho." Félix hugged Camilo with all his might and hoped his son didn't slip through his fingers. "Whenever you feel like you might be going crazy inside your own head, you come get me, okay? We'll talk. You can talk about whatever you want to, and I won't judge."

"Okay."

"Okay? Good." Félix released his son and cupped his son's cheek. "You matter. And you matter to me. You are my eldest son. And I'm ashamed to say that I never told you how you make me proud. Camilo, you make me proud."

This time, Camilo couldn't hold back his weeping. He wiped his eyes quickly on his sleeve, and they hugged again.