Chapter Text
Mirabel was on fire. Even as rain poured down on her hoodie and seeped into the fabric, she was blazing hot. Mirabel wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but a few seconds after she got off the bus, she started burning up as she walked up the hill to her home, it just got worse.
A hand came to her forehead, she found sweaty curls sticking to skin that she was pretty sure could fry eggs. Thankfully for now she could walk, but Mirabel wasn’t sure for how much longer.
A few minutes later, Mirabel found herself in front of the Madrigal family home. It was a veritable mansion that was exploding with colours and little nods to their Colombian heritage. And even under the heavy downpour of rain, Mirabel could still appreciate how beautiful Casita was.
She walked up the small flight of stairs, opening the door with her key, and walking inside. The fever was joined by a deafening headache, everything became hazy and Mirabel didn’t exactly know when she had taken off her shoes or when she reached the stairs.
Mirabel still didn’t know how, or why, she was so sick all of a sudden. Maybe it was the spider that bit her at the Oscorp field trip? But then, if it was venomous, then why wasn’t she already dead? It had been multiple hours.
Mirabel’s thoughts were interrupted as she bumped into someone, it hurt way more than it should have, causing Mirabel to hiss. She looked up, seeing Isabela’s snarling face, there was something red peeking out of her nose and she looked extremely tired.
“Watch where you’re going!” She practically growled, before storming off.
Was that… blood in Isabela’s nose? No, no way, Mirabel was just seeing things, she had a fever.
Mirabel raced to the bathroom, showering quickly before going to her room. She immediately went for her bed before doing anything at all and fell asleep upon first contact with her pillow.
***
Mirabel was woken up with a start, turning around in her bed as fast she could, she relaxed at seeing Luisa who hadn’t flinched at Mirabel’s sudden movements. Realizing what she was wearing, Mirabel quickly covered up with her hands. She still felt the heat of the fever, but it seemed to have receded slightly.
“Dinner’s ready,” Luisa said blankly, her eyes pointedly limited to Mira’s face.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Mirabel said with an awkward smile. Watching Luisa leave, she quickly got dressed, putting on a skirt she had been working on for a while now, embroidered with the ‘symbols’ of all her family members, mainly her conjectures.
She always liked to think that if everyone had magical powers, their powers would be related to the symbols she always associated with them. Which if she had to admit, were just the powers the Encanto had. Mirabel loved the Encanto as much as any other citizen of NYC, they were charismatic, powerful and all they asked in return for saving the city every other week was… nothing!
Mirabel idolized such selflessness, mainly because she lived that way, giving everything and expecting nothing -because she always got nothing-.
Hearing her mother’s voice calling for her, Mirabel snapped out of her thoughts and rushed down the stairs, being met with an almost full table. She sighed, thankful that Dolores and Isabela weren’t sat down, else abuela Alma would be chewing her out for being tardy. Mirabel settled down on the table, scooping up food as she silently listened in on the conversations around her.
Her head hurt too much to participate in her usual attempts at joining in, so she just kept quiet. Dolores and Isabela eventually filed into the dining room, they both looked terribly exhausted, slouched shoulders, half-lidded eyes. Mirabel wondered why some of her family would randomly come late to dinner looking like that, and why abuela only gave them a stern look instead of the scolding she usually gave Camilo and Mirabel for being half as late.
She, for some reason, stopped scolding Camilo too. Mirabel wanted to ask why, but the bridge between them was cracked and rotten, and she didn’t want to fall into the ravine. She didn’t want to accept that her mellizo had distanced himself from her, just like everyone else.
Why? Why was she alone? Her conversations with everyone in her family were dry, they never talked about anything too deep, just idle chat at this point. She was included, to some degree, they still left her out sometimes when they randomly left the house.
Still, Mirabel never asked, she had learned that they would just dodge her questions. Probably to save her feelings, as dumb as that was, she was already hurt.
“Dolores, what have you done this week?” Abuela asked, her eyes slightly softer on her.
Mirabel snapped out of her thoughts, of course every friday they had to talk about their week, mostly to tell the family all the good things they did. Mirabel went over her day quickly, in case abuela decided she would actually notice her today. Well, she hadn’t done anything outstanding this week, but she could get away with saying she did some science experiments at Oscorp today?
But then again, Oscorp had been attacked, thankfully she had already left the building before anything happened. She only saw the explosions after she got on the bus. She’d be fine, just make it clear she hadn’t been in danger.
Abuela skipped over Mirabel.
Mirabel used to cry, after being ignored all day, a few years back when she was told by her friends in class that the situation with her family was not normal. But by now, Mirabel had accepted her situation. She had tried, really, she did.
Sometimes she would actively remind abuela that she hadn’t asked her, only to be met by disappointment or just a straight face. The straight face hurt more than disappointment, at least the latter let her know that what she had done wasn’t enough, or that it was bad.
But abuela not reacting meant that Mirabel did nothing. Was nothing.
Mirabel felt a hand grasp her own, it was Julieta, she had a soft look in her eyes. Mirabel nodded no, she was still feeling that fever. As much as she appreciated the offer, she didn’t want her mama to bring attention to her.
It felt artificial. Forced.
“Alma, you didn’t ask Mirabel about her week,” Augustin said from the other side of the table, his eyes flicking over to his youngest as he smiled gently.
Abuela Alma simply looked at him, before turning to Mirabel silently, her eyes expecting.
Mirabel haphazardly put on a poker face, she was not pleased to say the least. Sure, her dad was very supportive and she loved him dearly, but he wasn’t as thoughtful as Mirabel’s mama.
“I… did a couple science experiments at Oscorp today, and passed a few quizzes this past week,” Mirabel drawled out, trying to talk normally, and managing to at least not sound rude.
Everyone’s eyes widened at that, Julieta’s hand immediately returned to tightly grasp Mirabel’s own, it almost hurt. Mirabel looked around, while it was reasonable for them to be afraid for her, this was a bit much.
“My bus left before the whole incident happened,” Mirabel said, raising her free arm in a placating manner.
Abuela Alma’s face had remained impassive, but her frown had eased at that. And Mirabel felt her sigh, once again, she was nothing. Abuela didn’t care.
Mirabel tuned dinner out after that. She didn’t sleep very well that night either.
***
Mirabel stared at her torn blanket, her expression in a serious frown. She had just woken up in the night, wanting some water and as she grasped her blanket… it just broke. And now that she became aware, she was seeing just fine, without needing her glasses. And her hearing too, she could hear Isabela’s snoring from across the hallway.
Now, Mirabel wasn’t exactly the brightest academic. She was scraping by in school after all -or so Isabela told her that one time-, but she knew her hands were dangerous at that moment, so she ripped off the parts of her blanket that they were touching. After gingerly testing her makeshift protection, Mirabel got off her bed and began gathering her blanket.
“No way I’m telling anyone about this,” she whispered to herself.
She didn’t think they’d trust her to not break everything, something ugly inside Mirabel told her they would send her away to whatever scientists Isabela knew. Did she actually believe that? Obviously not, but that ugliness inside her did.
Mirabel wrapped up the blanket in her thickest silk, before throwing it out the window, watching it roll down into the river. Was she overreacting? Probably, but she would rather grab another blanket than explain how weak, small Mirabel ripped her old one apart. They were all white anyways.
She took a step back, concentrating on the sensation of her hands, she felt a connection to something. Akin to controlling a muscle, Mirabel ‘pulled back’ whatever made her hands sticky. She watched as the pieces of blanket fell to the floor.
Mirabel squinted her eyes.
She took off her socks, and put a foot on the wall, ‘extending’ the stickiness. After a moment, Mirabel lunged forward, pushing herself off the wall and extending her other foot out to the roof, closing her eyes as she did so. She waited, and waited, and waited.
Nothing.
Mirabel opened her eyes, and with wide eyed amazement, realized she was hanging off of the ceiling.
“Sweet,” she murmured.