The one Madrigal that you absolutely did not sneak up on was Pepa, and that was usually out of regard for your own safety. (Well, okay, it was probably inadvisable to scare Bruno either, but Félix's relationship with Pepa was markedly different than his relationship with Bruno, for several reasons, and he didn't have plans to change any of them.) Fear had never prevented him from approaching Pepa – announced or not. He had always thought the risk to be worth the reward, and truthfully, he had only ever been in harm's way one time.

That day, much like this one, she had been free – no one to look after, no one to aid. She had been relaxed and unguarded, laughing with her sister and racing her brother down the road. He had fallen in love with the wild spirit running past his door. His intent had been to propose on the spot, but the fates intervened before he could make a complete fool of himself. He had stumbled into her, startling her badly enough that she had loosed a small lightning bolt. Once he had come to, seeing her and her sister standing over him, he had refused Julieta's healing food and decided to keep the scar as a reminder.

Of what? Pepa had asked.

Of the day I met my wife. He had answered.

She had scoffed at him, stuffed an arepa into his mouth, and told him to try again after his head injury healed. And to her surprise, he had.

As he looked at her now, he smiled, feeling just as warm and giddy as he had then. He would have been content to watch her from his hiding spot all afternoon and considered just stealing her away from the world – how long had it been since they had been truly alone together? – but no. Not tonight. It was too important to her, to all of them, to miss.

Tomorrow, though..

But as for today... she had taken the family's washing to the bend in the creek that circled behind his own family's property. It was cool and private – the large avocado trees giving their shade to any weary soul who had made it this far in their wanderings. She must have been desperate for a modicum of privacy; she despised laundry and took great pains to never have to go any further from the house than necessary. And this particular hidey-hole was known only to a few and virtually unreachable. He briefly considered leaving her be. But something about the way the day seemed unable to settle on a climate troubled him.

The urge to comfort, to be near, rose within as she paused in her work, wiping her brow and rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks. She took a moment to pin up her hair then cupped her hands in the stream for a drink, letting the water dribble out of the corners of her mouth and down her the open neck of her shirt. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and turned her face up to the faint sunlight, eyes closed.

He quickly removed his shoes, crept down the embankment, and struck, pressing the warmth and weight of himself into her back and wrapping her in hug.

She gave a small shriek and whipped her head around, hair flying loose and smacking him across the face. "Félix!"

His laughter was contagious. Try though she might, she could never stay mad at him for very long. And to ensure it, he tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed a gorgeous violet flower in it. The blossom clashed horribly with her fiery locks and everything she wore, and he thought her all the more beautiful for it.

"You're a long way from home," she observed. "I thought Mamá asked you to bring the wine."

He gave her an impish grin. "Oh, she did. It should be on its way home shortly." At her confused look, he added, "Bruno was conveniently looking the other way when I passed him, so..."

She snorted, sending both of them into a fit of giggles. After a minute or two, they managed to pull themselves together long enough for a kiss.

"So tell me," he said as they pulled apart. "Why are you so far from home?"

She cocked her head with a rueful smile but didn't answer, as if organizing her thoughts. She bent to gather up the scattered clothing, and a small cloud appeared over her head, mirroring her furrowed brows. The sky responded accordingly, clouding over a little more and only letting the dimmest of sun rays through.

"Mixed feelings," he said. "About tonight?"

She sighed again, this time a little less contently. He knelt beside her, sorting through his stuff, her stuff, the kids' stuff, and whatever was left. He began to wonder if she was going to answer, and though tempted, he didn't ask again.

Eventually, she said, "I'm happy for Isabela, of course."

"Por supuesto," he echoed.

"And I think that she's excited. And Julieta. And Mamá, but... but what if it's something like... if it's like mine...or Bruno's? What if it's impossible to control or contain or something that hurts..." She took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to recenter herself. "Julieta had it bad enough dealing with the two of us. Still does, come to think of it."

The sky darkened as she spoke, enough for a drizzle to begin. It became a heavier shower once she noticed. She gestured helplessly from herself to the sky as if proving her point. He scooted a little closer and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"I don't believe she has ever seen either of you as burdens."

She gave him an ironic look. "You've never seen her angry."

"If anyone could manage to make that happen, I supposed you'd know."

"She can out-swear Bruno."

He guffawed, nearly dropping the laundry in his arms back on the dirt. Pepa playfully fussed over it, helping him tuck the last few pieces into the wide basket. She lifted it and placed it on her head, taking a moment to find her balance, and then set off, Félix in her wake.

"No, really. One time, when we were... I don't know.. thirteen? Bruno decided that he and I were going to give Julieta the day off of cooking..."

Félix let her talk all the long walk from the far end of the Encanto, through town, and into the Madrigal courtyard. She was a marvelous storyteller, and the misadventures of her younger self served as a great distraction. As a result, the sun had been allowed to peek through the cloud cover once more.

As they approached Casita, Julieta came down to meet them, her own laundry basket in hand to take some of the load from Pepa so they could allocate it to their respective families.

"...and there he is, covered in flour, and the oven unusable and..." she broke off with a laugh as she met Julieta's eyes, which lit up immediately.

Pepa's mirth unbalanced the basket, and Julieta brought it down with a thump, reaching for Agustín's vest and her spare apron. "What brought that up?"

Pepa took a breath, managed a "Well..", and then dissolved into giggles again.

"She said that you could out-swear Bruno." Félix offered helpfully, despite the swat on the arm he received for it.

"Once." said Julieta defensively.

"Once is all it took!" chortled Pepa.

Julieta allowed herself a smile that was somewhat strained. "It might have to be twice if he doesn't get back soon."

Pepa sobered a little at that. Bruno always made it a point to never spend any longer than he had to in town, and Pepa couldn't remember the last time that she had made it back before him, regardless of what either of them were doing.

"He isn't back?" Félix's own worry was admittedly born more of the fear of Alma rather than the fear for Bruno. If she saw him and no wine casks...he'd either have to account for the loss or go buy more. Probably both. And probably at his own expense.

"Isabela said he had promised her a surprise gift." Julieta offered uncertainly.

Pepa didn't even pretend to entertain the thought. "That might slow him down by three minutes, not three hours. He's too good at picking out gifts for the girls."

Julieta pursed her lips but did not argue the point.

"I'll go check the pen." Félix offered. "Maybe he's unloading, and we've just missed him."

He ducked back out the main door, following the length of the house until he came to the open enclosure. He breathed a sigh of relief – the cart and the mule were present, though both looked a little worse for wear. Wine, dress, foodstuffs, and decorations were all accounted for, though scattered haphazardly throughout the back of the wagon. The mule flicked its ears back and forth nervously, looking like it would gladly bite the first human that got too close. But there was no sign of his brother-in-law. He jogged back to find that Agustín had joined the women. They all looked at him expectantly.

"The cart and mule are there. The mule looks a little spooked, everything in the cart is a little unorganized, and I didn't see Bruno."

Julieta and Pepa exchanged a look that said they knew exactly where their brother was and why and that they were both more than little exasperated.

Agustín and Félix exchanged a look that simply indicated confusion.

Pepa asked, "How long do we give him to get it out of his system?"

"Until dinner, I suppose. Or until Mamá finds out. He's not likely to want to mingle. Or eat. But...I don't think she would be pleased if he missed any part of the evening," Julieta replied.

Pepa snorted derisively. "I'm not pleased that he's missing set up."

The four of them had walked back toward the pen. Pepa hefted herself up into the wagon and began throwing items pell-mell out of it while Félix and Agustín scrambled to catch them before they hit the ground or anything else.

"Pepa," Julieta's voice pleaded for her sister to be reasonable, something she did not seem inclined to do.

"What?" A sharp gust fo wind whistled around the gates and sent several hanging plants swinging. "He only seems to have them when real work is involved."

"Or when he's stressed. Pepa, you know he doesn't...he can't... he and the town aren't always on good terms."

"The town and I aren't always on good terms!"

Félix quirked a smile as he caught several untraded jars of honey. "Maybe not but the consequences are more... immediate... if they address it."

In reply, Pepa manifested a brief hailstorm of indignation that dissipated at Félix's obvious amusement. Any further outbursts were quailed as Alma appeared, indicating to the men where she wanted each item to be placed. Félix saw her do a brief head count and register who was missing with the same mild frustration that her daughters had shown.

"Pepa?"

"I know, Mamá. I'll go get him." For all her earlier bluster, Pepa seemed bothered by her mother's intrusion of Bruno's privacy. Still, she gave Félix a quick kiss in passing and headed for Bruno's tower.

The problem with sending Pepa to search Bruno's room was that she never actually searched Bruno's room. She pounded on the door until either he appeared, disheveled and grumpy, or Casita forcibly removed her from the stairwell. If the former, they would inevitably squabble the entire way to their destination – she chiding him about his sleeping habits and he admonishing her for a lack of propriety – ignore each other through dinner, and then reconcile after the children were in bed. If the latter, he was actively having a vision or suffering the side effects of one.

So for his bedroom door to open of its own accord at her arrival was both unprecedented and troubling in the extreme.

A ball of ice lodged itself somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach as she stepped into the room.

"Bruno – runo – uno – uno?" came the echo. "Brunito – unito – nito – ito?"

The heavy stone door that marked the entrance to his seer's circle swung wide, giving her a perfect view into the chamber. Not there. His bed was just as empty, unmade as though he had just rolled out of it, and the nook where he secreted away his books and knick knacks held only shadows and fear.

She swatted at the miniature thundercloud hovering above her head as she exited the room and placed a timid hand on the wall, struggling to keep calm. "Casita? Can you tell me where Bruno is?"

A frantic rippling of the tiles around her toes was the one answer she didn't want and sent her heart and feet racing.

Casita didn't know.

And neither did Félix or Agustín.

And the provisions had made it back, but no one had seen him which meant he hadn't made it back ,and no one knew why, and no one knew where to look, and Isabela couldn't know, and Mamá couldn't know and...

She swore to God she was going to kill him as soon as she found him for making them worry, and then took it back and prayed desperately that she would not find him dead.

The wind whipped up around her, rushing through the stairwell, into the entryway, and preceding her into the kitchen. Julieta yelped as cups, plates, food, and laundry were launched in all directions.

"Pepa!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Pepa wrestled the worst of her panic into a box in the back of her mind, determined not to lose control altogether. The tempest quelled itself into a strong breeze but nothing else attempted flight.

"¿Qué paso? ¿Dónde esta Brunito?"

"No sé," whispered Pepa. "Casita doesn't... he's not here. I don't – I don't know if he returned from town."

Julieta paled and reached for the knots in her apron. Pepa laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. "I'll go find him."

"But -"

"I'll find him." She swore. "You need to stay with Isabela."

"But -"

Pepa intertwined their fingers, giving them what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "I know, mana. Mamá has enough to worry about."

Julieta returned the gesture, chewing on her lip fretfully but standing aside to allow Pepa to rush past. Pepa sprinted down the drive, exorcising the worst of her fear as she repeated to herself the promise she hoped she could keep.

I'll find him.

I'll find him.

I'll find him.

A/N: Miercoles, this one was a bugger to write! It's pretty late, and I've just finished the fourth edit of this, but I think I caught everything. If not, I'll revise it soon. Would love to hear your thoughts! -WW