Squinting through her lashes, Mirabel found herself flinching from the light that met her. It was glaring and she found it left an irritating feeling behind her eyes, lingering in her skull. Slowly she shifted and began to stretch, her muscles crying from their aches. It was as if a house fell on her, which it sort of did, even if it was in pieces.
Dimly she heard voices calling her name and she turned towards the sound as she tried to sit up. The feeling of hands brushing at her hair and adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose would have made her jump in surprise if she could have. Those hands were small, she barely noted, delicate and a floral scent followed them. The hands that checked her ankle were comparably larger, though just as delicate, if not more so, in how they treated her. Isabela and Luisa, she was sure that her sisters would be the ones she saw if only she could open her eyes far enough, if her vision was clear enough, hear their low, trembling voices well enough.
Those large gentle hands that belonged to her sister, filled with an unmatched strength that could break absolutely anything, picked her up and held her with a softness most people didn't think she was capable of. It was those strongly gentle hands and muscled arms that cradled her as if she was the most precious thing in the world, like she was a delicate piece of china that could break at any moment. Their eldest sister flitting alongside the middle one, like a worried mother hen, she fretted and frowned, completely absorbed by her worry. If Mirabel wasn't so far out of it, those were some of the things she would have noticed.
Luisa and Isabela were absolutely silent in an unsettling and unusual way as they brought Mirabel back home, trying to move quickly and still not jostle the youngest during the trek through the tangled forest. Honestly, it was a wonder to Isabela how Mirabel had even gotten so far away through the forest while being in the condition she was in. It was difficult enough for Isa without her gift to creep through the tangles of the forest, so that made it astounding that Mirabel had gotten so far in such a short time with her injuries. That ankle was swollen beyond belief, her glasses were cracked and covered in dust, dirt, and speckled with droplets of blood, her hair had tangled around her and partially in front of her eyes, her arm had some rough scrapes on it and it looked heavily bruised around it, not to mention the blood that was matting the hair along her forehead. The pair were the most worried about that injury in particular. There was a jagged looking cut along her hairline, accentuated by some dark bruising and swollen bumps underneath all the dried blood.
Mirabel heard her family's voices through a filter. It felt like she was underwater, the way they were muffled and distorted. "Mama! Mama! We found Mirabel!" Isabela called out to them. In the same instant, Julieta was by their sides, Agustin a step behind her. "Oh! Mi pequeña mariposa! My sweet little Mirabel!" she cried. She cried in relief that her youngest was brought home, but she too cried in despair, seeing her daughter so limp and hurt. Mirabel tried to move her mouth, to tell her Mama that everything was going to be okay, but she felt too sluggish and only succeeded in shifting her head the slightest bit, allowing her cheek to press into her mother's featherlight touch. "Oh!"
Across the ruins, Pepa was floundering over her own child with Senora Guzman. While Isabela and Luisa had gone for Mirabel, Pepa and Julieta had sat with Bruno, holding hands while they shook. Neither could make their feet move in fear that they would come upon their child, dead amongst the destruction. Camilo, though in the back of his mind he knew that at his age he shouldn't see something like that either, was still the first through the remains of the doorway before anyone could stop him, followed by Felilx and Agustin. His worry for his only sister was far greater than any worry he could possibly have for himself.
He had spotted them immediately and fell to his sister's side. With the help of his Papa and Tio, they manage to maneuver both Mariano and Dolores out from under the banisters and floor that covered them. It was difficult to remove them from the small enclosed space they were trapped within, but working together they managed to slide them out one at a time. While the adults carried Mariano out, Camilo turned and lifted his sister. Even as skinny and small as the fifteen year-old was, he was a lot stronger than he looked. Dolores, though tall, was very slender and small herself, making it easier for him to carry her by himself.
Camilo sent silent thanks to Mariano as he looked over his elder sister. He had saved her from the brunt of the impact, twice over in fact. First he caught her and took the force of that fall himself. Then, when the walls had fallen on them he turned and shielded her from that as well, as best he could. From the way they were gingerly treating him, he wondered if his back was broken, or perhaps his ribs. He winced, unable to tell where the blood on Mariano was coming from. Was it his or was it hers? Camilo couldn't tell and it scared him for the both of them.
Little Antonio reached to hold onto Dolores's hand, a silent and fearful look etched into his expression. He could tell she was hurt, he could see the blood, but he was struggling to understand what was happening, and looked to his older brother for support. He had gotten and lost his gift in the course of a week. Their home, their Casita, had fallen into ruins around them. Their sister was laying in front of them, broken and unconscious. As terrified and worried as Camilo was, he knew Antonio was just as much, just without the knowledge or understanding that he had as an older sibling.
For once, Abuela seemed silent as the rest of the family turned their backs on her, favoring the children who were hurt as their beloved Casita fell. It was as though seeing how they banded together around the three had rendered her speechless and stunned her into this furious silence. Her eye twitched watching the lowest and arguably least useful of her pawns being fawned over.
It was watching her favorite grandchild use her delicate lavender dress to smear away some of the blood and dirt on Mirabel's skin that made Alma finally try to regain her control over the situation that she'd been losing ever since Bruno had come forth and yelled at her, of all people. Scowling, she reached down and tried to yank Isabela to her feet. "Do not sully yourself like this Isabela." she shook her head at her, almost sneering in her disgust.
Isabela blinked at her with wide eyes after she found her footing, slowly and steadily rising up to stand, taller than her Abuela. Wordlessly she stared at her Abuela before looking at the way she had grabbed her arm, to the scene around her, her cousin and best friend still unconscious, and to her littlest sister lying so painfully still next to her feet. Isabela finally blinked before her breath hitched and caught in her throat along with her anger.
Her lip trembled for a moment, thinking about everything all at once, before she looked back up with a grimness to her expression that people rarely saw. "Let go of me." she said lowly. When Abuela blinked at her with a raised eyebrow and snorted "excuse me?" she simply ripped her arm right out of her grip. "I said, let go of me!"
"How dare you." she hissed. "How dare you. All you care about is how perfect and pretty your life seems, how much we can do for the Encanto until we break." she gestured down to Mirabel. "You don't care that my hermana is lying on the ground half dead because of how you treat her. You don't care that my best friend is unconscious. You don't care that the man who saved her life is injured. You only care whether or not I have a pristine dress and smooth hair." Tears filled her eyes. "If you can't see that you are the root of the problem there, then I can't help you and you need to leave." she ordered. "If you cannot care about all of your family then you don't deserve any of them." Abuela stared at her and slowly looked over the ruins around them. The remnants of her perfect life that had come crashing down were strewn all around them. Her children looked at her as though they did not trust her. Her grandchildren looked at her as though they did not know her. Isabela, ever the favored, looked at her with resigned disdain. But Alma refused to see things this way. Instead, through her eyes, she saw an ungrateful and unwilling family who didn't care what she sacrificed for them or what she did to help them thrive, a family who were unwilling to put in the time, effort, and work to achieve the goals they shared.
With a solemn look Isa raised a finger and pointed away towards the village below, "Just go." She shook her head before turning back to her task, trying to find a way to help her no one backing her, Alma turned to retreat into the village, planning to return after giving them a chance to see things her way and gather more support.
