Encanto Spirits AU – The aftermath: Julieta

The aftermath of Mirabel’s disastrous birthday celebration. Julieta is a mess and still has to heal her own wound. 1248 words.

Warning: pain, suffering, demon-inflicted wound.

…

If Alma were to listen to her motherly instincts, she’d have brought her daughter a bottle of the strongest tequila. Unfortunately, their circumstances did not allow for this simple mercy. Julieta’s wound needed healing sooner rather than later. Thus, Julieta had to maintain a clear mind. For this reason, when Alma entered her daughter’s bedroom, she was holding a cup of yerba mate.

Julieta was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back resting against her bed. She looked completely exhausted, with blood-shot eyes and trembling lips. Her husband Agustín was sitting next to her, concern painted on his face. Between them stood a bowl of water – cold, Alma assumed, for cooling down the wound. She observed that Julieta’s right sleeve had been cut off, exposing the blistered forearm. The ugly, red reminder of the battle they had fought.

She had used all her energy to save Pedro. There was too little of it left to ease her own suffering.

Without a word, Alma handed her daughter the cup. Julieta accepted it with resignation and begun to sip the liquid. She wasn’t a fan of yerba mate – the taste wasn’t to her liking. Still, she drank it all her life for its nutritious properties. Whenever she needed an energy boost, this was what she turned to. Fuel didn’t have to taste good. Still, seeing how reluctantly Julieta consumed it, Alma felt her heart break over and over again.

A couple of sips later, Julieta tried to speak. “How is papá?”

“Asleep,” said Alma.

“And the children?”

“Pepa and Félix have them all in Isabela and Dolores’ bedroom.” She hesitated before continuing. “Mirabel is with Bruno. In his room.”

Mirabel. Julieta’s youngest child. The one who got possessed by the demon. In a turn of events so shocking and earth-shattering they never would have thought possible. How did it happen and why, none of them knew. The pain was so fresh, so unfair, so gut-wrenching. Even more so for Julieta, who still bore the horrible marking on her own limb.

Hearing her daughter’s name, Julieta deflated even more. Her jaws tightened and new moisture glimmered in her eyes. She had failed to protect her child. She had been so helpless. She just got herself wounded and her other children had to watch it happen.

Realizing what was going on in her daughter’s mind, Alma tried to distract her. “Is there anything you need? Anything to eat or drink?”

Julieta denied with a slight motion of her head.

“Are you going to be able to heal yourself?” Alma continued gently.

Julieta took a moment to swallow. “Not entirely,” she whispered in a strained voice. “Not right away,” she paused, running her eyes over the massacred forearm. The sight was discouraging. So much tissue to fix. So many blood vessels. So many nerves. The wounded woman shut her eyes, unable to take it all in. “I have to start, at least. It can’t wait any longer,” she almost wailed.

Alma nodded in grim acknowledgement. “Do you need Pepa? Or Bruno?”

The Madrigal triplets had a special bond that allowed them to borrow one another’s spiritual energy. Considering Julieta’s state, she could use a donor or two. The person of interest seemed to acknowledge this fact. “Get Bruno,” she requested.

Thus Alma went to get Bruno.

Julieta returned to sipping yerba mate.

Agustín placed his hand on his wife’s lap in a gesture of reassurance. He hated that there was nothing he could do to help her. He hated that she’ll have to endure excruciating pain, on top of everything she’d gone through already. She could numb herself a little bit, perhaps, but not entirely. She had to know which tissues to stimulate and how intensively. Therefore, she had to feel her body’s reactions. Words couldn’t describe the injustice of this situation. Nor make it any easier to endure for Julieta. Literally, the only thing Agustín could do was to be there for her.

At least in this respect, he wouldn’t disappoint.

“Once this is over,” he whispered softly, “you will be free to cry yourself to sleep in my arms. I am going to hold you and I am going to rub your back. For as long as you need, I am going to hold you.”

Julieta’s eyes were welling up, but the faintest smile pulled at her lips. That smile told Agustín everything he needed to know. His wife was looking forward to the services he promised her. She was going to need them, and badly so, once the ordeal is over.

He was bent on staying with her for every frightening second.

(…)

Some preparations had to be made beforehand. The bowl of cold water was displaced in favor of a stool. Agustín had to move to Julieta’s other side, so that Bruno could perform his duty as her donor. Spiritual energy was transmitted through physical touch. Bruno assumed he’d hold his hand on Julieta’s shoulder, but his sister explained he’d have to hold her arm in place. For one thing, she needed to receive his donation as close to the affected area as possible. Also, more importantly, she wouldn’t have enough self-control to stay still. Bruno obeyed, even thought acting as a human vice to his sister’s exposed, sensitive flesh was making his skin crawl. He did not want to cause her pain. Goodness gracious, she winced when he touched her.

‘Get a grip,’ he told himself. ‘You’ve no right to complain. She’s the one suffering.’

Out loud, he said: “Drain me as much as you need to.”

She gave him the faintest nod.

Alma found it fitting to ask one last question. “Is there anything else you need?”

Julieta hesitated. “A piece of leather.”

The item was provided to her with the aura of guilt.

Julieta put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Took a couple calming breaths. Finally, she lifted her healthy hand and bent the ring and pinky finger in a gesture that aided her concentration.

Right away Bruno was forced to tighten his grip on her arm, as she tried to jerk it away. Blue glow covered the affected limb. Julieta’s jaw clenched and sweat beads sprung from her skin. Bruno pushed away unwanted thought and focused on channeling his energy. Green glow poured from his hands onto Julieta’s forearm. Blisters bulged and exploded with a hiss. Scent of burning flesh assaulted nostrils. Julieta bit down hard on the leather. Swelling smoothed down. Red receded in favor of pink, pink receded in favor of white. Bruno held on relentlessly as Julieta’s fingers stretched and bent. Alma and Agustín watched with hearts in their throats. Julieta’s veins pulsed, sweat stained her clothes. The leather in her mouth crinkled.

Finally, the glow died out. Julieta spat out the leather and panted heavily. Bruno let go of her arm. The ugly wound was replaced with an extensive scar. It had rough edges and an uneven surface. It wasn’t the ideal outcome, but it would have to do.

Agustín knelt by his wife and kissed her temple. “You did great, querida.”

Alma handed her a cup. This one contained poppy milk. Julieta drank it greedily. It was over. She closed the wound. She made sure it wouldn’t fester. Tears of exhaustion and relief flowed freely from her eyes.

Alma and Bruno discreetly exited the room, knowing they were leaving their daughter and sister in the most competent hands.

That, and their tasks for the night weren’t completed.