Chapter Text
It had been about a year since the family had healed from the cracks in their family dynamic that had torn everyone apart and caused Casita to fall.
Things were better than ever. Louisa would work hard, but also regularly take breaks and relax throughout the day. She’d even taken up crocheting as a way to unwind, and now all the donkey’s she moved around had adorable little wool jackets for when the weather got a little chilly.
Isabella had started growing crops instead of flowers, which helped feed everyone and took a lot of pressure off the constant emotional turmoil Pepa previously had to endure in order to water and grow the Encanto’s food. Isa had also gotten a girlfriend, and was taking things slow without the constant pressure to marry and have five babies.
Though speaking of weddings, Dolores and Mariano’s ceremony was coming up in a few months. Organising everything without accidentally letting Dolores in on what should be a surprise was tricky (she’d already overheard the poem he was planning to surprise her with during the wedding), but it was shaping up to be a beautiful event all the same. Mirabel had been hard at work helping to sew some of the attire, including animal-shaped suits for Antonio’s little friends.
And, of course, the biggest change of all: Bruno was back with the family. His acting career was really taking off, and Camillo with his shapeshifting powers had started joining in on the performances. Of course, there were still people in the Encanto hesitant to embrace his presence, but all Bruno could do was try and not let that hurt him.
“Could you give us a vision of Dolores and Mariano?” Abuela asked.
Bruno had hesitantly restarted doing the visions — but only under the condition that no one blamed him for the outcome; the moment anyone so much as stipulated the outcome was his fault he would stop doing them for good. And so far, everyone had abided by that rule.
“Have Dolores join me in my room,” he said, heading to the sand at the base of his tower to begin setting up the circle, making sure to knock on wood as Dolores entered his room and greeted him.
“Thanks for doing this Tio Bruno, I think it will really put Abuela’s mind at ease,” Dolores said, sitting down in front of him and taking his hands.
“We’ll see,” he replied, beginning the vision, with sand and other rubble beginning to spin around them, lighting up. At first, nothing could be made out, but then—”
“Is that my dress?” Dolores grinned as a vision of her walking down the aisle materialised. It flashed forward to everyone boogying it up on the dance floor, even Abuela. Finally it morphed one last time into the newlywed couple, holding hands as they watched fireworks.
Everything stopped, the sand falling from the air and the vision appearing as a green rectangle in Bruno’s hand.
“That’s great!” Bruno said. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. I’m so happy for you Dolores! And happy for me, I think this is the first time anyone has actually been happy about my visions!”
“It’s going to be a perfect day, thank you, Tio Bruno!” Dolores took the vision from him, hugging it to her chest with a squeak. “What a relief. And did you see my wedding gown? The sketch Mirabel drew for me was amazing, but seeing how it’s actually going to look in person… That is the exact dress I imagined wearing since I was five years old!”
“Do you still have the drawing you made at five years old?” Bruno asked.
“No, no, I never drew it, not even back then. I am not an artist, that’s for sure,” Dolores chuckled. “I just described it to Mirabel a few months ago and she drew it.”
“Oh, so Pepa remembered what it looked like from all the way back when you were five?” Bruno asked.
“Uh, no…” Dolores tilted her head in confusion. “I remembered it.”
“Don’t be silly,” Bruno chuckled. “No one remembers being 5 years old, that’s too young.”
“It’s not too young,” Dolores said. “I’ve heard that some people around town remember things as far back as three years old.”
“Pfffft.” Bruno shook his head. “There’s no way, they must be joking.”
“Well, what’s your earliest memory, Bruno?” Dolores questioned. “How old were you?”
“Probably around twenty-five,” Bruno mused. “I was playing with my first pet rat, who I’d called ‘Rubén two’ for some reason… I can’t remember why I named him that, though. Like, why the two?”
“You don’t remember anything before twenty-five?” Dolores asked, her jaw dropping. “I think we should take you to see Tia Julieta.”
Bruno fell quiet for a moment. “That’s normal though, right? When you're my age you won’t be able to remember your childhood anymore, won’t you?”
“Not normal,” Dolores confirmed, pressing a hand to his back and leading him out of his room and straight to Julieta. She was in the kitchen, taking a fresh batch of arepas out of the oven.
“Dolores, Bruno, is everything okay?” she asked, her eyebrows pinching together.
“What’s your earliest memory, Julieta?” Dolores asked.
Julieta hummed, thinking for a moment. “Reaching up and opening my door to get my gift. Of course, we didn’t realise that was going to happen back then, it was a complete surprise to everyone. Do you remember the looks on everyone’s faces when they found out about our gifts, Bruno?”
“Uh… No, I don’t.” Bruno rubbed the back of his neck, lowering his head.
“He doesn’t remember anything before twenty-five!” Dolores explained, letting out a squeak. “I don’t know if he hit his head or anything, but clearly he needs some sort of medical help.”
“You don’t remember when we used to sneak into the kitchen with Pepa in the middle of the night and I would bake for us all?” Julieta asked.
Bruno shook his head.
“What about Pepa’s wedding?” Julieta said. “You would have been twenty-four when they married.”
Bruno frowned, opening his mouth to talk before closing it again and remaining silent, lost in thought. Eventually he stammered out, “I… It’s weird…. Because I know I used to remember it just a year ago… I used to think about that day a lot… Go over every little detail… But now when I try to think back that far, there’s just nothing…”
As Bruno spoke, Julieta began filling the arepas she’d made with cheese, handing him one. “Eat this and try remembering again.”
Bruno took it and chomped down, humming from how delicious at was. “I always forget how amazing your cooking is.”
Dolores and Julieta exchanged a concerned look. “I mean, not literally… At least, I think not literally.”
“And the wedding?”
Bruno bit his lip, pulling up a chair and sitting, curling into himself. “I still only remember thinking about the memory, but not the memory itself.”
“What should we do?” Dolores asked. “I’ve heard the elderly around town talk of their memory loss, but one bite from your food and they’re fine…”
“I don’t know,” Julieta said. “But we’ll figure it out as a familia.”