Hey! My name's Roxy Goth. Erm...I've come up with this idea. This is my first time writing for Encanto. This story takes place after the casa is rebuilt. Please enjoy!

I do not own Encanto, or any associated characters in any way, shape or form.

It was typical, Julieta thought, that all three of her daughters should get sick at exactly the same moment. Thankfully her niece and nephews had escaped this bout of fever that seemed to be going around the family, but for how long, who knew?

She sighed as she put the finishing touches into the Ajiaco she was making. Hopefully if all went well after a bite her daughters would feel hungry enough to finish the rest.

She gave her husband Augustín a bowl and asked him to take it up to Luisa. She picked the two other bowls up and headed to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs she nearly collided with Bruno, who instantly asked if he could take a bowl up to Mirabel.

Julieta hesitated only a moment - after recent events she felt she should spend a bit more actual time with her youngest daughter - but the puppy-dog look on Bruno's face melted her [as it always did] and she let him take the bowl of her and head upstairs. She briefly wondered if he had had a vision, but ruled that thought out because otherwise he'd had told her and they'd had probably been an argument about it.

She sighed and pushed the thoughts from her mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[In Isabela's room]

Isabela coughed weakly into her hand and instantly felt pain racking through her body. She coughed again - this time managing to turn it into an actual fit - and genuinely thought her lungs might come out of her body.

"Vaya, cielo.*" She heard her mums soft voice from the doorway. "¿Estás bien?"

Isabela couldn't even respond and just held her hand up in what she hoped was a 50/50 gesture.

"Here." She felt her mums weight on the bed. "Have some of this."

With an audible totally unladylike groan the young adult pushed herself up and, with trembling hands, took the bowl and had some of it. It only took the smallest mouthful but true to her mama's gift it instantly had her feeling better.

"Gracias!*." Isabela carefully put the bowl aside and hugged her mum. "I feel so much better now!"

"And you look it." Julieta commented, noticing her daughters eyes looked more sparkly than they had ten seconds ago.

As soon as she said that the light in said eyes dimmed and Isabela curled up on herself and muttered. "Gracias..."

"Hey!" Julieta gently cupped her daughters chin. "What the matter?"

"It's just..." Isabela debated for a second, then decided to just go for it. "...What do you think of this?" And she waved her hand, creating a small cactus which she presented to her mother.

Julieta did a double-take and gently took the prickly, little cacti from her oldest daughter. She saw the small flower on it and smiled. "It looks beautiful." She said, with feeling.

Isabela raised an eyebrow. "Are you talking about the flower or the cactus?"

"Both." Julieta answered. "The flower is, of course, pretty, but the cactus is nice as well. Even with it's sharp bits-" She gently poked one of the sharp needles and drew a little bit of blood. "It's still nice." She, without thinking, took a spoonful of food and the cut instantly healed. "And you know the thing about cacti's?"

Isabela didn't respond, just looked at her steadily.

"They're fairly strong and able to survive by themselves." Julieta began, a part of her wondering where she was going with this herself. "But even then they still need water to survive. If you don't give a catcus water it will die..." She trailed off. "...Is this making sense?"

Her daughter considered for a few minutes. "I think so. Are you trying to say it's alright to ask for water? Or help, rather?"

It took all of Julieta's willpower for her to not punch the air in delight. "Exactamente*!"

Isabela laughed, a sound that was music to her mothers ears. "Well. I'll try. But it's a bit hard. How do you know that...you know." She grimaced a bit. "Everyone will be supportive of your decisions?"

Julieta thought about this for a few minutes. Why did children ask the hardest questions? "...You don't." She said, simply. "You've just got to trust that people will be. Or will learn with time to understand your choices. It's a bit trial and error." She admitted. "Is there anyone you're particularly worried about?"

Isabela looked at her and said, a touch ironically. "Can you not guess?"

"Abuela?"

Isabela nodded.

Julieta sighed. "Your abuela...has had a difficult life. She lost her husband at a young age and then had to raise me, Bruno and Pepa. Does that excuse her bahaviour? No. Does it explain it? Hopefully. But I feel this is a discussion you need to be having with her, not me. If you feel able to?"

Isabela scrunched her nose up and a row of catci appeared round her bed.

Julieta shrugged. "That answers that then. Whenever you're ready. I would say there's no rush. You might even find abuela apologises to you! Really-" She added gently, seeing her daughters doubtful face. "Abuela has a lot of faults, but one thing I know from growing up with her is that when she realises she's wrong, she does tend to apologise. But anyway-" Julieta got up and picked up the bowl. "I just want you to know that you and your papá love you very much, as do your sisters, and if you need to talk you know where we are okay? It may be a little late-" She admitted, as a pang of guilt hit her heart. "-But better late than never as the saying goes. Te amo*, Isabela. Nunca olvides que*." And she smiled before gently shutting the door.

Isabela sighed and, with a smile and a burst of energy, got up to practice catci-making.

* Oh Baby.

* Are you alright?

*Thank you

*Exactly!

*I love you

*Never forget that