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Chapter Text

Héctor quietly descended the stairs, careful to avoid making any noise, just because he couldn’t sleep didn’t mean that he had the right to wake anyone else up, especially after they had allowed him a place in their home in the wake of his adventure with Miguel that had culminated in an averted final death. He made it to the back door fairly quickly, grateful for the simple layout of the house. He had chosen the back door as an exit since he knew that the main entrance tended the squeak a little. His exit was completed without making a sound, it seemed that all those years of trying to sneak past security at the Marigold Bridge came in handy when he wanted to be stealthy.

He gently closed the door, being sure not to let the glass rattle, and with that he left through the garden gate. As he walked, he felt eyes on him, and when he looked up he saw Pepita, glowing brightly in the darkness of the night. How he had missed the light she was giving off could only be attributed to being extremely distracted by his own thoughts.

He was still quite unnerved by the large alebrije, but ever since he had almost been forgotten, Pepita had been a lot calmer around him, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of Imelda ordering Pepita not to hurt him since she didn’t hate him as much or some genuine affection on the part of the alebrije.

With a single beat of her wings, Pepita descended and landed quietly beside Héctor, thankfully the street was wide enough to accommodate her size. She gazed at him, watching him fidget uncomfortably, before giving him a look that was clear with the question she wished an answer to.

“I…uh couldn’t sleep…” he said grabbing one arm with his other, as he often did when he was nervous.

Pepita growled a bit in admonishment, she bet that he hadn’t even left a note saying where he was going.

Héctor gazed at her, with a look that was a mixture of fright and confusion. Pepita unfurled her one of her wings, and wrapped it around Héctor. Despite what he may have been led to believe, she did not hate him. She hated the hurt that he had caused her Imelda, but she had never truly hated him. Part of it, was that Imelda herself, despite wanting to, couldn’t bring herself not to love him, and that bled into Pepita’s judgment. A larger part was that the man was just so small. Naturally, given her size in the Land of the Dead, most things were small to her, but it was also the way Héctor held himself. If he was not brought into the twins antics, he tended to shrink away, and blend into the background, so that he wouldn’t do anything that would upset anyone. He had done more of the latter, since he was still in such a weakened state. She hoped that more time with the family would allow him to be more vibrant in their presence, but only time would tell.

His reaction to her winged embrace was to go completely still, and she didn’t approve. She ducked her head down until she was level with his head, and gently nuzzled him, purring softly. A hesitant hand reached up and stroked her fur, and she purred encouragingly.

“I guess you were worried when you saw me leave the house?” he questioned.

Pepita purred louder.

“ Dios, I’m an idiot.” he said realizing that the others would come to the wrong conclusion if they woke up and saw that he was missing. At best that would think he was abandoning or rejecting them, because everything was so new, that it could be the case, and at worst, they would think that he had succumbed to the final death somehow.

Pepita nuzzled him again as she saw him come to understand what she had been concerned about.

“I guess that’s you agreeing with me?” Somehow he got the feeling he was being laughed at, as Pepita pulled her wing away.

“Thank you,” Héctor said, reaching out to pet her, a little less hesitantly than he had the first time.

Pepita allowed the touch for a moment, and then took a few steps, Héctor caught up to her, and the two of them began to walk home side by side.

They were one street away, when Héctor suddenly froze. Pepita glanced around alert for any danger. Finding nothing threatening, the large cat looked back at her companion. His gaze was focused on a small alley, and he walked over almost in a daze, bending down, he reached out a hand, and a small alebrije came into view.

The creature appeared to be a wolf cub, but it was extremely small, approximately the size of a chihuahua pup , and it was thin, to the point where bones would be all it was if it lost the smallest amount of weight. It’s fur was a dirty gray, and it’s markings were faded to the point of being invisible, were it not for the faint green glow at the tip of its fore paws, it would have been impossible to tell that it was an alebrije.

The small alebrije’s little tongue, darted out to lick Héctor’s hand.

Héctor forced himself to contain a squeal that would have drawn far too much attention, because the little alebrije was adorable, and somehow he knew that it was his, he didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

As he gently petted the tiny creature, he turned to Pepita, “How do you think Imelda feels about strays?”

The look he was given, was so like one that Imelda herself might give, that he couldn’t help, but laugh. Especially since the look clearly said, ‘She let you in didn’t she?’

Chapter Text

Imelda woke as she had done for the past seven days since discovering that Héctor had not abandoned her, and Coco of his own volition. It was very early in the morning, and the first thing to hit her was the doubt, because it would be just her luck to be toyed with her in her afterlife, then seeing the evidence that it was not in fact a dream created to torture her, namely the book on her beside table, with sketches for a special pair of shoes, she would be hit with the guilt. For decades, she had denied Héctor the chance to explain himself. He was not blameless, because he was the one that had chosen to go off with that bastard that had killed him, but the least she might have done was give him the chance to explain, to let him tell her that he had not left them alone all those years because he wanted to. She had even forced herself not to notice how very young he looked, just because she didn’t want to be hurt again, and that had almost led to him leaving her, leaving Coco, again. She was so angry and prideful, and it had nearly cost both Miguel, and Héctor their lives. Finally, she was hit with panic, because what if being remembered hadn’t been enough, what if they had merely delayed the final death, and it had come to claim him as she lay in her bed.

As she had for the past mornings, she berated herself for putting him in another room, when his mere presence could take away the fear that he might be gone forever. She grabbed her dressing gown, an action born more from habit than necessity, and quickly pulled it closed, as she rushed over to the room that she had given him. Thankfully, it was a few steps down the hall, because even her pride wasn’t great enough that she would place him any further than that. She would peek in, see him curled up on his bed, as he had been in the mornings since he had awakened, and then she would quietly leave, and get started on breakfast.

She turned the knob, grateful that he didn’t lock the door, and her eyes went wide with disbelief. There was nobody in the room. He wasn’t there, but his hat was , and he was gone, gone, gone. He wasn’t there.

“Not again,” she whispered, trying to get a hold of herself. She took a deep breath trying to push back the anguish. She needed to look downstairs first. Maybe he had woken up early, went downstairs for a distraction that wouldn’t wake the household, and fell asleep on the sofa. It would explain why his hat was in his room and he wasn’t since in a sleep muddled state he might had forgotten to put it on, The panic receded in the face of such a logical explanation of the facts presented, and she hurried down the stairs.

The living room was empty as well, and just as the panic was returning, she glanced out into the backyard, Pepita was settled on the grass, head resting on her paws. Her wing, on the side facing Imelda, was stretched over the area next to her. Beneath the wing, she could see the barest hint of bones. They were yellowed, a bit damaged, and utterly familiar.

Going out into the yard, Pepita gazed at her, and shifted her wing a bit so Imelda could view the figure under it.

The movement had Héctor reaching out for the shifted wing with sleepy motions, and mumbling protests. Once Imelda crawled under the wing, Pepita lowered it once more, and he settled down..

Héctor shifted, aware that someone was with him, but the presence was so familiar, that he didn’t question it, and simply moved until he was in a comfortable position. A small yip, had him reaching down to pet his new friend, and seconds later he was asleep again.

Imelda lay were she was not wanting to wake Héctor. The fact that her presence didn’t wake him made her guilty, but hopeful as well. It was clear to her, that he had never blamed her for rejecting him, and it was equally clear that he had never stopped loving her, and it made her feel guilty that she had ever believed that he had left her for another woman. There were clearly a lot of things that needed to be discussed pertaining to their relationship, and exactly what it would be going forward, but she was hopeful that in time, they could find a balance. That they could somehow look beyond the past, and look towards a future that they would make together.

A yip cut through her thoughts, and she noticed a scrawny little alebrije curled up in Héctor’s lap. It looked at her curiously, for a moment before Héctor petted it. The alebije closed its eyes once more at the soothing contact.

Imelda felt herself growing a bit drowsy, perhaps it was an effect of the panic dissipating in combination with the early hour, and decided to rest a bit, it was Rosita’s turn to make breakfast anyway.

Chapter Text

Héctor woke to the feeling of being utterly rested, and very comfortable. He opened his eyes, and for a moment he was sure that he was still dreaming, because he had his head in Imelda’s lap, as she leaned against her technicolor alebrije, her hands, were in his hair, as though she had been running her fingers through it, and fell asleep as she was doing so.

They were both under Pepita’s wing, and judging by the way the colors of wing were bleeding through, it was late morning.

He really didn’t want to move, but he figured that he shouldn’t press his luck, so he slowly sat up, making sure he had a gentle hold on his new little friend, and once he was upright, he gently shook Imelda.

It didn’t take long for her to wake up, she had never been a heavy sleeper outside of times where she had been ill. “Good morning, Imelda,” he said. He was still wary of adding pet names when he addressed her since he didn’t know what it would take for her to decide that she was ready to be rid of him once more.

“Good morning Héctor,” she returned softly, noting his wariness. “I see you made a friend,” she said looking at the little pup.

“Is it okay if I keep him?”

Imelda frowned. It was quite clear to her that the pup was his alebrije, did he really think she would deny him? “Héctor he’s your alebrije of course he can stay.”

The little pup wagged its tail, and gave a few happy yips.

“What’s his name?” she asked as she gently petted the little wolf.

“It hasn’t been decided yet.” Héctor admitted.

“Well,” she said as she stood, brushing down her clothing, and at the motion, the colorful wing was withdrawn, “get to work, it isn’t fair to leave the alebrije that has to guide you nameless, mi amor,” and with that she went back into the house.

Héctor gazed after her with a dopey smile on his face, “You two heard that right?” he whispered softly to the two alebrijes, as the happiness spread through him, maybe she did want him the way he wanted her after all.

His bliss was interrupted by a familiar barking. Standing up, with his pup in hand, he saw Dante running towards him, tongue lolling out, and on the dog’s back was a familiar guitar.

The xolo, stopped in front of him, panting a little, with a dopey expression on his face. “Is that for me?” Héctor asked the dog, and Dante barked happily,

Héctor placed his little wolf on the ground in front of Dante, and took the guitar. Dante laid down, and gave the little alebrije a lick. The little wolf returned the gesture with a lick to the xolo’s nose. After giving the xolo a greeting, and a brief nuzzle to Héctor, Pepita took off. Héctor didn't blame her, she must have been pretty stiff from staying in the position she was in for so long.

Héctor looked at the instrument, after Pepita had flown away. It had clearly been cleaned up, but it was Chich’s guitar. He gave an experimental strum, and found the instrument was perfectly tuned.

As he was holding the guitar, and watching the alebrijes play, he got an idea. “Marco, Dante, come here.” It took him several seconds to note that he had given his alebrije a name. He had no idea where it came from, but he didn't mind because the name just seemed to fit.

When the alebrijes were beside him, he smiled. “How would you two like to help me put on a show?”

Chapter Text

The next day, at break time, the Rivera clan was surprised to see Héctor walk in with a guitar.

He hoped he didn’t look nervous, because he was absolutely terrified. He had wanted to call it off this morning, as he had hidden in his room, because this was a silly idea, but two sets of puppy dog eyes could not be ignored. So he gathered some courage, and waited until break time in the workshop.

“Ready you two?” he asked his companions, a yip and a bark were his answers.

Before anyone could ask what he was doing, he gave a grito accompanied by two in tune howls. So far so good, they had worked for a while to get that in sync and it showed.

With that he began the opening of Un Poco Loco. This was his first voluntary performance for the sake of simply performing, in a while, so what better song, than one he had written for a special lady, and that had been sung so well by his little chamaco.

“What color is the sky?

Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor

You tell me that it’s red

Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor”

As he continued the song, he danced, moving in time to the song.

When he got to the pause in the lyrics, he bent down, so that Marco could climb up to his shoulder. With that Marco jumped, doing a little turn in the air, before landing on Dante, who had been hovering nearby.

Dante landed, and stood on his back paws, Marco did the same while standing on Dante’s head. Then he jumped again, landing perfectly on Héctor’s head, with a happy yip.

After finishing the lyrics of the song, he let loose a grito accompanied by the two alebrijes again.

Once the song was concluded, he set aside the guitar, and reached up for Marco, holding him in one hand, and using the other to pet Dante. This was both to thank them for their hard work, and to have a reason to avoid the eyes of the others in the workshop. He was beginning to question why he had decided to waltz in, and sing for them. No one was saying anything, and the longer the silence reigned the more he became convinced that he had done something incredibly stupid. Just because they had let him stay, and music was no longer forbidden, didn’t mean that they wanted to hear it, and even if they did, it didn’t mean that they wanted to hear him. Just as he began to panic, someone finally spoke up.

“At least the alebrijes were talented,” Oscar was saying to Felipe.

Héctor looked up, and saw two identical teasing grins on the faces of the twins. Marco leapt from his hands, landing on Dante, and the xolo ran to the bench where the twins were sitting. It was the work of seconds to get the little wolf atop the table, and the little alebrije gave a pitiful whine, and a practiced set of puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Felipe relented. “The guitarist was good too.”

Héctor looked at them, wiping away non-existent tears easily getting into the teasing rhythm that the twins had set up. “That’s so sweet of you to say,” he said, making a show of choking on the words.

Héctor looked over at Imelda, she didn’t seem displeased, in fact she looked as though she was restraining a smile, be it at the light teasing or the performance, he didn’t know, but at least she wasn’t upset.

“ Is that your alebrije?” Rosita asked.

Héctor nodded. “ He found me last night,” he explained. He was curious as to why he hadn’t had a guide before, but thought that it was likely because he had never met his since his life had been cut so short, since he was aware that many people met their guides while they were living. His other theory on the subject was that it had to do with his state of mind, he’d had a goal, since the day he died, he didn’t know how he was going to achieve it, but he knew what he wanted. Now however, for the first time in his afterlife, he was uncertain what he wanted to do with himself. Now that time was no longer a limited commodity for him, he had family, and he had his music, but he also had uncertainties about how he would fit into the family, and just what he wanted to do with his music.

“Have you finally given him a name?” Imelda asked, and Héctor smiled his most charming smile at her while nodding enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell us?” Imelda said, when he didn’t say anything.

“His name is Marco,” Héctor said.

Marco yipped, as though saying that yes that was indeed his name.

“Why did you choose that name?” Imelda asked.

“It just seemed to fit,” he replied, because really it was the only thing he could say, the name had simply come from his mouth, and it felt right.

Walking over to where the little wolf sat on the table, she offered her hand. Marco sniffed at it, and looked at Héctor, the man smiled, giving the alebrije permission to do as he pleased. With that the small wolf, stepped into the palm of the Rivera matriarch.

“Listen Marco,” Imelda said, pulling the cub up to her face so they could see eye to eye. “Héctor can be estúpido, and it may seem like a thankless task to guide him, but stick with him.”

Marco gave a few yips, and licked her cheek.

“Don’t be sad, Héctor,” Imelda heard Felipe say.

“She did the same thing, when we met our alebrijes,” Oscar finished.

Imelda didn't even have to look to know that her husband had was wearing a pout that would rival even the most adorable child with a similar expression. He'd even successfully used it on Coco to get her to do all the things she had been adverse to when she was very young.

She could proudly say she was immune to that look...most of the time.

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks, it became a common for Héctor to be out in the yard with Marco and Pepita. Some days, Dante would join them, Héctor suspected that they were days that Dante had made one of the living Riveras mad enough that Miguel wasn’t able to smooth things over immediately. Sometimes, they were running about, chasing one another. They moved a little slower when chasing or being chased by Marco, so that he could catch them. The little wolf seemed aware of what they were doing, but he still had fun and that was what mattered.

Other times, they sat beside a tree in the yard, and Héctor would play his guitar. After about a month or so, of this routine, the other alebrijes in the family, seemed to take a liking to the activities.

First it was Rosita’s little lamb, Luna. She was very sweet tempered, and her wool was very soft, making her a great snuggling companion. The next to join them had been, Julio’s deer, Elias. He was very gentle, and it had take several days, almost a week, for him to come to a point where he would rest right next to Héctor when he was coaxing gentle melodies from his guitar. Then came a pair of foxes that belonged to the twins, Rikki and Tikki, they were mischievous, but well behaved. They were identical, just like the twins, but Héctor could tell them apart, they liked scurrying about, and tended to be happiest when Héctor played more upbeat music. The last to join was a small owl that belonged to Victoria, named Sophia. The creature was highly intelligent, and aloof. The owl tended to stay in the tree Héctor liked to sit under. Sometimes though, Héctor could coax her down, and she would perch on his shoulder.

~

Victoria, walked into the living room, and found her family clustered together at the doors that led into the backyard. They were clearly entranced by something that she was unable to view.

“Has anyone seen Sophia?” she asked.

The others looked at her, and shifted so that there was a spot open for her so she could see out of the glass double doors that led to the backyard.

Héctor was out there, as he tended to be, but he was not alone. All of the alebrijes were out there with him as well, including Sophia. The most shocking thing was that all of them were being extremely affectionate towards Héctor. His laughter was loud, and easy to hear even as far away as they were.

Judging by that reaction, he didn’t seem to mind that the group of technicolor beasts seemed to be attempting to snuggle him to death, and going by the various noises they could hear from the alebrijes, they were just as happy as he was, especially when he would manage to ‘escape’ them, and begin to pet them, and offer his own snuggles to each alebrije.

“Perhaps we should follow their example,” Rosita mused as she watched the alebrijes, and Héctor continue to snuggle attack each other.

The others looked at her questioningly.

“We’ve been waiting for him to come to us, giving him time to acclimate himself to the family, and seek us out when he is ready to do so, but I think that he…” and here she paused, trying to think of the best way to phrase her thoughts, so that Imelda, who was already starting to look guilty, wouldn’t feel worse than she already did. It was clear that the woman was aware that this wariness, and reluctance were the result of excluding Héctor to the point that he felt that he needed to watch his every move so as not to be pushed out of the family again.

“I think that he doesn’t know how to approach us, given that there are so many of us, and that we are so close to one another, and his answer to that is to observe, and rarely interact.”

The others considered this, as they continued to watch Héctor in the backyard. Now the man was chasing Elias, who was bounding through the yard with the hat he had stolen in the latest snuggle attack.

“One on one interactions, or perhaps, small groups, seeking him out, and engaging in some activity would be beneficial,” Victoria suggested.

The others nodded, that seemed like the best course of action.

Chapter Text

Surprisingly enough, Julio, just a week later. was the first to seek Héctor out. Though, that might have had a little to do with the fact that he had a day off because it was his turn in the rotation.

He found Héctor on the sofa, in the living room, reading, -was that Shakespeare?- aloud to Marco.

“Papá Héctor ?” Julio asked tentatively, it was a little odd calling someone that appeared so young in that way, and if Héctor reacted badly to it, he would gladly alter the way that he addressed the man, but no matter the age he lost his life, this man was the father of his wife, and as such was deserving of the title if he desired it.

Héctor turned startled at the call, and gazed at Julio with an expression of shock plastered on his features, before Julio could say anything though, a bright smile replaced the shock. It was clear that though it had come as a surprise to be addressed as such by him, Héctor quite liked it.

“Is there something I can do for you, mijo?” he asked.

Julio smiled, and gave a nod. “I have a day off from the shop today, and I wondered if you would like to go on a trip with me.”

Héctor seemed to freeze, but before Julio could let him know that he was under no obligation to accompany him, Héctor looked at him with a gaze that was at once hopeful, and wary. “Are you sure?”

Julio nodded encouragingly. “I thought we might talk, and get to know one another, at the very least, I’m sure Coco will be pleased if we are on good terms when she arrives.”

Héctor found that he agreed with that, and he was eager to learn more about the man that had won his little girl’s heart. “Do I need to bring anything?” Héctor asked.

“Just yourself,” Julio answered.

Héctor nodded, and scooped Marco up. “I’m going out for a while, and I want you to stay here,” he told the little wolf.

Marco yipped in understanding.

“Would you like to go outside or stay inside?”

Marco growled.

“Outside it is.”

After placing the little wolf into Pepita’s care, the two of them did seem to adore one another, and he was hopeful that one day he and Imelda would mirror that.

“Alright,” he announced to Julio, “I’m ready,”

They left out the door walking at a leisurely pace. Héctor pointed out landmarks, and told stories about his adventures.

Julio listened, hearing the sadness under the jovial tone. As a father himself, he knew the sadness of being away from his a daughter both in life, and in death, though he had no true understanding, as there was a vast divide between Héctor’s experience, and his own, he was still able to hear the sadness.

It took about an hour and a half to reach their destination. Julio led them down a path, and into a cave. Not too far in, the man ducked off to one side, into a tunnel that was barely noticeable unless you knew that it was there. Héctor had to go down on his hands and knees to even fit.

When the path widened out, they were in a wondrous place. It glowed with natural luminescence, likely some kind of plantlife, Héctor speculated, and the light was reflected in the deep pool of water that took at least half the space of the cavern.

“It’s beautiful here,” Héctor whispered.

“This is a place that I come when I want to think. You’re the first one that I have brought here.”

“Thank you,” Héctor said. It meant a great deal to him that Julio would share a place like this with him.

“Do you think that Coco would like it here?” Julio asks after they had sat in silence for a while.

“I think that she’ll love it,” Héctor answered very softly.

“Is everything okay?” Julio asked.

Héctor looked away from him, walking a few paces away. “I missed so much of her life, when I… she was four… and now, I’m scared I won’t even know her, that she will come here, and realize that she doesn’t want to know me,” he confesses.

“She won’t feel that way,” Julio says with the air of a promise.

“How can you know that?” Héctor asks.

“Because I know her. Coco has the biggest heart in the world. She has always loved you, and I think she knew that something bad had happened to you. One night when we were alone, she confided in me that she knew you were gone. Until then all I had known was that you had walked out on them, I used to hate you for that, wondering how you could do such a thing, and I was even angrier once we had Victoria because I would have never left them.

"I know I hurt her with those thoughts, even if I never spoke them, and eventually she told me that she just felt that you were no longer living. She remembered you so well even though she was very young when you died. She remembered your song, and how you would sing to her, and when she heard Ernesto’s version, she knew that something was wrong.

"So I know she won’t hate you, because she has been waiting all her life to see you again. There is no way that she will reject you.”

“How do you feel about me now?” Héctor asked after he took a few breaths, he needed to change the subject because if they kept discussing Coco he'd soon be a sobbing mess. The question he had asked to change the topic, however, was important as well..

“I don’t know,” Julio admitted taking off his hat, and fiddling with it nervously. “That’s why I want to get to know you, For years, I only had the pain you caused, and Coco's feelings, to judge you by, but now knowing that you didn’t want to leave them, that you did all you could to come back, it makes me want to know you, so that I can form my own opinions.”

“You’re a good man, Julio, and I’m happy that Coco found you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Julio said, with a bright smile, “Coco could have had any man in town, and somehow she chose me.”

“Well she must have been impressed by how brave you were.”

“Brave?”

“Mijo, let’s face it, Coco was a princess in a guarded tower.”

Julio gave a chuckle, it was an apt analogy.

“Should I tell Mamá Imelda that you called her a dragon,” he asked with a sly grin that looked quite at home on his face.

A look of horror came over Héctor. “Please don’t mijo, my bones are still too fragile for that level of punishment.”

“I suppose for the sake of your bones, I could keep this between us.”

Héctor grabbed the man into a hug. “You’re my hero,” he proclaimed.

“I think that you are braver than me though,” Julio said.

Héctor looked at him.

“You wooed Mamá Imelda, according to the twins, she has always been passionate, and quite deadly with her footwear.”

Héctor laughed. “After a while you get used to it, and I love her because of that passion, there was never anyone else for me before or after her.”

Julio smiled, he felt the same about his Coco. “You’ll adore Elena then, she is my second born, but in personality, she’s very much like Imelda. It's a running joke in the family that Elena was a clone of Mamá Imelda, because they were so similar. ”

Héctor’s eyes lit up at that. “Will you tell me more about the - our- family.”

Julio nodded. “I’ll tell you as we walk home, it’s getting late. You might like to be on the receiving end of Imelda’s boot, but I would rather avoid it.”

When the two of them arrived home, they were still chatting happily about the various members of the family.

Rosita, and Victoria looked at one another, it seemed alone time had worked very well, perhaps, it would be good if they would invite Héctor on the trip to the plaza that they had planned for the next evening.

Chapter Text

“... so they saved some chicken from their dinner, and fed it to one of the chickens when they thought nobody was looking at them.” Héctor said, as he walked with Rosita, and Victoria, Marco was on his shoulder, and he tried his best to limit his movement so as not to upset the little alebrije.

“They didn’t,” Rosita said with a fond smile.

Héctor laughed. “They did! So I watched what chicken ate the chicken,because I wanted to be sure it was the right one, and when night fell, I snuck into the coop. I admit I had quite the way with chickens,” he said proudly.

“I’m sure you did,” Victoria said wryly, which got a chuckle out of Héctor, much to her delight, because it was nice to see him so happy, especially in the wake of how reserved he was in the first days of living with them. It also helped that the man had a nice laugh, and it was naturally infectious apparently, given Rosita’s reaction, and to a lesser extent, her own.

At the lull in his speech, he heard the whispers of someone passing by. He ignored the comment, he was used to people pointing out his color when he was in an area that the nearly forgotten didn’t tend to frequent, thankfully the comment had been made quietly so he was sure his companions hadn’t heard it.

“None of them woke up as I picked up the chicken, and left the coop. So then I got some berries, and liberally applied the juice to the chicken’s face and feathers, then I snuck into the house, and tossed the chicken into the room with the twins. It woke up clucking like mad, and then the twins started screaming. ‘Zombie Pollo! Ayúdanos!’” Héctor got a few strange looks, but it was worth it to see Rosita burst into laughter, and Victoria smiling, and shaking her head, like she couldn’t believe how idiotic he and the twins had been when they were younger.

“Is he bothering you? Asked a man in a well tailored black suit. Victoria and Rosita looked at one another, but before they could do anything rash, because he knew Rivera women did not take well to people assuming they were weak, and or helpless, Héctor stepped in front of them, giving the stranger his most charming smile. “We are familia, but I thank you for your concern, amigo.” Marco yipped a few times in agreement.

Héctor turned slightly, jerking his head a little to indicate that they should go, he didn’t want this to escalate, and he had enough experience to know when to get out of a situation. That experience was telling him that this situation had the potential to explode, so the quicker they left the better.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t notice the man’s companions until he was being pushed to the ground. Marco yipped in surprise, abandoning his perch, and leaping to the ground. He stayed by Héctor though, his eyes roving over Héctor so that he could be sure that the man was okay.

“Nearly forgotten people shouldn’t be walking around with the well remembered,” said a snobbish sounding woman, in a rather gaudy dress, as she clung to the man that had addressed them at the start. “And to lie and claim that they are tu familia, is practically a crime.”

Héctor didn’t react to that, true it saddened him, that some held such attitudes toward nearly forgotten people, but he hadn’t let it bother him since his bones had started to yellow, and another set of hateful comments, simply didn’t make a difference. Then he looked behind the man and the female.

The man’s two male companions, were herding Rosita, and Victoria away from him, each were holding the hands of the females, as they pulled them away. They were both trying to get free, but they were unable to, and due to how they were being restrained, neither of them were able to reach for their weapons of choice. The men paid them no mind, seemingly of the opinion that they were somehow brainwashed or otherwise mentally impaired.

Héctor prided himself on his ability to stay calm, to be persistent, and charming. To weasel his way out of trouble with humor, and general silliness. There were very few things that could actually provoke him to lose his temper, and the list had become very short during the course of his afterlife, but these people, well, they had just stepped on a landmine.

Chapter Text

As Victoria struggled with her captor, she wished that his grip was just a tad looser so that she could reach her shoe. She wasn’t nearly as deadly with it as her Mamá Imelda or even, if the younger Riveras were to be believed, her hermanita Elena, but she could wield one well enough to protect herself.

She gave a gasp as the grip on her became tighter. As a skeleton she knew it shouldn’t hurt since nothing short of snapping the bone would damage a well remembered person like herself, but they were creatures of memory, memories were held within the mind, and her mind was saying that it was painful, and she was reacting accordingly.

A glance at Rosita saw that she was in the same predicament, and she saw her tía wince as her captors grip tightened. Everyone that had crowded around, seemed to be looking at the man, and Héctor, thinking that a man that was nearly forgotten had to be the instigator of the conflict.

Then, Victoria heard a bark, it was loud, it sounded like something that would come from the mouth of a large, vicious, guard dog, and she was surprised to note that it had come from Marco. She had never seen the small alebrije angry before. She had heard his yips of excitement, had heard his nervous whines, and had even been around to hear playful growling snarls when he played with Dante, but never before had she heard him angry.

One look a Héctor and she could see why he was enraged, anger seemed to be radiating from him, making a nearly tangible aura around him. The man was glaring, and it too was something she had never seen before, the glare he was giving was strong enough to rival any that Mamá Imelda might do, it was not aimed at the man that was still insulting him, no, but at the two men that were restraining her, and her tía.

Another wince on Rosita’s part was all it took to push him over the edge. Marco barked again, loud and ferocious, and suddenly there was a white light, everyone around them, closed their eyes reflexively, but the glow did not last very long, and a few blinks were enough to restore their vision to normal.

When the glow faded, Marco had grown to an enormous size, he was probably even larger than Pepita, his front paws were still tipped in neon green, but now it ran from the tips of all of his paws upward like he was wearing socks, he had other markings now too. While he was nowhere near as luminescent as most alebrijes, his face had a blue stripe running from between his eyes down to his nose, his ears and tail were tipped in a bright red, and made so much brighter by the inky darkness of his fur. Dotted though that black fur though, were specks of silver, shining like stars in the night sky.

The most startling attribute, however, were his eyes, instead of the chocolate brown they had come to know, Marco’s eyes were now a shade of orange, eerily reminiscent of the glow of final death. There even seemed to be a cracking of energy about him, that lent itself to that thought.

Marco bared his teeth, they were sharp as daggers, and promised broken bones for any who tried to oppose him, no matter how strong the memories tied them together. Héctor stood, walking until he was beside Marco. The man and the woman were looking fearfully at Héctor and Marco. The alebrije growled snapping at them when the man and his arm candy failed to move. The two skeletons backed away quickly neither of them watching where they were going which was likely the reason they lost their balance and fell into a nearby fountain. Together, Héctor and Marco made their way to Victoria and Rosita, and the crowd readily parted for them.

The two men holding them, let go as though the women had turned to fire, and quickly backed away from them tripping over themselves in their hurry to get away.

“Are you ready to go home?” Héctor asked, his voice was very soft, and both of them knew that he really was giving them the option to stay, but there was power in that quiet voice. The power of fury on a tight, but short leash.

They both nodded.

Marco bent down, so that they could get on his back, he bared his teeth, daring anyone in the crowd to get close to them. Everyone around them had the self-preservation instincts necessary to stay away.

Héctor climbed on last, and Marco took off like a bullet. They assumed that he was going to run all the way home, but Marco leapt, landing nimbly on a building, and hardly jostling his passengers. He continued that way, making leaps so gracefully that it felt as though he was gliding. They continued that way until they landed in the backyard of the Rivera estate, and Marco laid down on the ground so they could get off of his back.

Once they were on the ground, Héctor turned to them. “Did they hurt either of you, in any way?”

Even if they had been hurt, both women would never have admitted it, seeing as it was a near certainty that Héctor would go back, and make them pay for what they had done. The fury in his features was so potent, that it was easy to imagine him striking down those slanderous people in the plaza, and as nice as it might initially be, they knew that it was better for everyone involved if he didn’t.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Rosita said calmly.

“We’re both okay, thanks to you, and Marco,” Victoria added.

Marco looked over at the sound of his name, and Victoria tried not to show how much he unnerved her in this form.

Apparently, the alebrije saw through her, because he lowered himself once more, becoming as small as he great size would allow, and whined. How a creature that looked like it was ripped straight from a child’s nightmare, managed to look cute, was a mystery, but it was true, and she petted him a little, to make sure he knew that she wasn’t scared, just startled.

“More importantly,” Rosita said gently, “are you okay?”

Fury still was apparent on Héctor’s face, so she made sure to be as calm as possible, in an attempt to sooth that anger before he could lash out. Though she had asked softly she was worried, his bones were still brittle, even if they were becoming stronger now that his memory was being shared, so it was likely the assault he had suffered might have added damage to him.

He took a deep breath. “I’m alright. I just… need to calm down.”

“I’ll get some snacks ready, and a few treats for the alebrijes, I could use a bit of help, ” Rosita said.

Victoria nodded, and the two of them went inside.

“Thanks for helping us today,” Héctor said to Marco as he hugged his alebrije. Marco gave a soft growl, trying to comfort Héctor. “I was so angry when those men, grabbed them.” he hissed. He was happy none of the others had been in the plaza with them, anyone grabbing any of his family like that would have been enough to consume him with fury, but if it had been Imelda or Coco or Miguel…

Héctor took another deep breath, trying to force the encounter out of his mind, he had to, if he was ever going to calm down, and he did need to calm himself or he was liable to do something rash. He closed his eyes, in an effort to steady his breathing, and began to hum a wordless tune.

Marco growled along, as he caught the melody. He had no idea how long they stayed there like that, but eventually, the rage receded.

Rosita had finished making the snacks when Héctor walked in, Marco, in his tiny form, riding on his shoulder. It was clear the man was much calmer, and more apparent that in the wake of his anger, he was quite embarrassed to face them, which both women thought was silly, but perfectly in character for the man that they were getting to know. The fury that had been invoked, was nothing like they had ever seen from him, and it was flattering to know that such a mild mannered man, who seemed relatively indifferent to attacks directed at him, had become that way to protect them from harm.

“What would I have to promise you so that you wouldn’t tell Imelda about this?” he asked.

“More than you ever had, and ever will,” came the answer from Victoria.

“That’s what I thought you would say,” he said, with a resigned sigh, as allowed himself to collapse onto the sofa, his long limbs splayed like a tossed stuffed animal. The fall was highly controlled though, because Marco wasn’t jostled at all.

Rosita, giggled as his expense. "Even if we didn't tell her she would hear about it soon enough. There were a lot of people there, and I saw a few customers of ours there today."

“Just let me be far away when you tell her,” he begged.

“Far away, when they tell me what?” asked Imelda.

Héctor jumped up, almost making Marco lose his grip. Steadying the little wolf, he said, “I just remembered, I have something I need to do. I best be-”

“Héctor.”

Héctor swallowed hard, and sat back down on the sofa, before he even realized he had done it. He knew that tone, and even if he was already dead, it still struck fear in his heart, even if the actual organ had been absent for over ninety years.

“Imelda, mi amor, how lovely it is to see you looking so beautiful today. So how was your day?”

After a look, that clearly stated, that such distractions were ineffective, Imelda folded her arms. “Who is going to tell me what happened?”

Both Victoria and Rosita looked at Héctor who had proceeded to curl into a ball on the sofa cushion he was seated upon, with his head resting on his knees. The man made a hand wavy motion in their general direction, which they interpreted as ‘go ahead’.

“I guess we are,” Rosita said. “So we were walking around the market to get a few things, and just to be outside, and Papá Héctor was telling us some stories from when he was younger like the zombie chicken incident.”

Imelda tried not to smile as she remembered that, she had teased the twins mercilessly for months, and they had sulked for more time than that, vowing to get revenge on Héctor.

“Héctor had just paused after he had proudly proclaimed he got on well with the chickens, and this woman walks by and says, ‘nearly forgotten folk shouldn’t be around the well remembered, because we might catch something from them,'” Victoria said with a sneer.

“You heard her?” Héctor asked quietly.

“Of course we did, but you didn’t seem to, and we didn’t want to say anything about it because we didn’t want to upset you.”

Héctor shrugged, “ It doesn’t bother me anymore. There are a lot of people that seem to think that way, so I’m used to it.”

Nobody said anything to that even though it was clear that they wanted to. All three women, and the alebrije, were thinking the same thing. Nobody should have to get used to that kind of treatment, no matter what state they were in. The Riveras had never gone out of there way to make contact with the nearly forgotten, but they were not prejudice against them, nor would they berate, and assault them for something that they had no control over.

“Anyway,” Rosita continued forcing the thought away to be dealt with later, “he finished the story, and we were just walking, minding our own business when a man came up to us, and asked if Héctor was bothering us.”

“I wanted to hit him with my boot, but Héctor stepped in, and said were familia, and thanked him for his concern.”

Imelda rolled her eyes, that sounded like something that Héctor would do, it wouldn’t the first time he had stepped in to save someone from the kiss of a shoe wielded by a Rivera.

“Then the man pushed him to the ground, hard enough that he might have damaged something, and his two male companions dragged us away from Héctor , we protested, but they were strong, and insisted that we were brainwashed, and in danger.” Victoria scoffed.

“There was a woman with the man that had originally approached us, and she started saying that the forgotten shouldn’t mingle with the remembered, and accused him of lying when he said we were his familia.” Rosita continued.

“What happened next?” Imelda asked after the silence had gone for far too long for her liking..

“I got angry,” Héctor said with a growl. “They wouldn’t listen to Victoria or Rosita, and I could see they were using too much force, they wouldn’t listen! I couldn’t standby and let them be hurt. I couldn’t.”

Marco let loose a growl, he was also remembering how angry both he and Héctor had been, to see members of the familia, a familia that was so recently was able to be claimed by him, and that happily claimed him in return, being mistreated, by some ignorant fools that knew nothing about them, and their relationship.

Imelda knew that Héctor had a protective streak a mile wide, she had seen it in the brief years they had been together when alive, and more so after Coco was born. Now if he could only be half as impassioned for his own sake, everything would be probably be a lot better.

Rosita reached out, and pulled him close to her. “It’s okay Papá Héctor we are fine.” she said soothingly. Marco stopped growling, and yipped, coming closer licking Héctor’s hand to try to cheer him up.

“Héctor was angry, and then Marco gave a loud threatening bark, there was this ball of light, and Marco was enormous. He took us home, we put away our purchases, and we made snacks.” Victoria finished quickly, not wanting to drag it out, and rekindle the anger of Héctor or his alebrije any further.

There was a brief silence, and then Héctor removed himself from Rosita’s embrace, uttering a quiet, “Lo siento.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Imelda couldn’t help asking.

“They wouldn’t have been in that situation if it wasn’t for me,” he confessed.

“Did force your company on them?”

“Of course not!” Héctor exclaimed.

Imelda wanted to sigh, but she held back. It was good that they had been the ones to ask him to go with them, but she knew that by the way he was feeling, it was going to take a long time for him to get comfortable enough where he would explicitly ask anything of any of them.

“Did you tell those people to attack them?”

“Of course not!” he growled again.

“Do they blame you for any of it?”

Just like that his passionate fury dissolved, and he looked at the ground, clearly uncertain.

The three women looked at one another, shocked that Héctor could believe for even a second that any of them would blame him for what had happened. No wonder he had been so antsy and nervous.

“Abuelo,” Victoria said gently, and Héctor’s head snapped up at that. That was the first time that she had called him by that name, and Victoria was shocked to see him gazing at her as though she held the answers to all of life’s mysteries. After a hug so strong she was scared that he would break one of his bones, with the force that he had put into it, she continued. “You did nothing to provoke that attack, and everything to avert it, tía Rosita and I would never think badly of you or blame for what happened today.”

Héctor still seemed somewhat unconvinced so Imelda walked over to him. “You had no idea that people would react as violently as they did, and you didn’t invite trouble, in fact, you tried to calmly avert trouble, and when your family was threatened you protected them. I’m very proud of you Héctor.”

Héctor reacted to Imelda’s praise as he always had, by smiling, and looking at her, as though he couldn’t believe that she had really said that, but it was still clear that he blamed himself for the incident, and nothing they could say would alleviate that guilt from him.

“Dios mio,” Imelda sighed if they didn’t do something soon, Héctor was going to do something stupid, like withdraw from the family completely or leave thinking it was the only way to protect them from himself.

“Mijas we have a problem, Héctor is determined to make all problems somehow his fault, what are we going to do about his incessant need to be a martyr for all familial problems that arise when he is around?”

“I don’t-” Héctor started to protest.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to convince him, that he isn’t a problem.” Victoria decreed.

“Perhaps including him in more family events, even if he is reluctant, would help?” Rosita offered.

Imelda nodded firmly and turned to Héctor, only to find him walking up the stairs, Marco astride his shoulder.

“Héctor,” she said exasperatedly.

“”I thought we were done,” he answered, before jogging the rest of the way up the stairs.

She shook her head, that man was going to drive her crazy, but she’d leave him alone for now, after all she had to make the list of all the things that he would be need to attend, and hopefully, getting closer to the family might help him to work through his tendencies to heap blame on himself. It might also start him on a path towards placing more value on himself, since it was clear that he didn't believe he was important or as important as they thought him to be. They were going to do their best to help him see how much he mattered, how important he was to them. Imelda closes her eyes, and thanked whatever fates had set in motion the events that led to Miguel appearing in the Land of the Dead. It was an adventure that would have stopped her heart if she still had one, but in the end Miguel wasn't the only one that had learned the true value of family that night.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Imelda checked on Héctor, and found him asleep in his bed, she shut the door carefully wanting to let him rest as long as he wanted, yesterday had been hard for him, and he needed the rest.

“Come on Marco, you love blueberries,” Imelda heard Rosita saying as she walked down the stairs.

A low whine was heard, as she made her way to the dinning room. Rosita was knelt on the floor with a tiny bowl filled with blueberries at her feet. Marco was in front of the bowl, giving it no attention.

Looking up, Rosita spotted the Rivera matriarch, and stood. “He won’t eat anything.” Rosita said worriedly.

Alebrijes, unlike dead people, needed food. They had to sustain a form that could cross between the Land of the Dead and the Land of the Living, they required far less than what creatures of their size and shape would require in the Land of the Living, but not eating could make them ill.

“I tried all his favorites, but he won’t touch any of it,” Rosita continued, hoping that Imelda would have some idea of what to do.

“We’ll take him to a doctor-” Imelda started to suggest, and halted her speech when Marco looked at her. His brown eyes were glazed, and unfocused. He was as wobbly as a newborn foal when he stood, nearly falling over once he was complete upright. She didn’t have the heart to let him wobble over to her in such a state, and quickly walked the few steps needed to pick him up.

He shivered in her hold, letting out a pitiful whine, and gazed at her pleadingly. That was when she was hit with a bolt of panic. She should have realized it sooner. Alebrijes were connected to the ones they guided, and the connection between Marco and Héctor obviously went far beyond the norm, as evidenced by what had happened in the plaza the other day. With quick movements, she hurried back up the stairs, and proceeded to Héctor’s room.

She laid Marco on his little dog bed very gently, despite her haste, and he gave a faint yip of thanks before curling in on himself and falling asleep. Imelda walked over to Héctor, sitting carefully on the edge of his bed. Up close she could see what she had missed when she had peeked into the room, his breathing was labored, almost panting, but nearly silent, which was why she hadn’t noticed at a glance, and at a touch, his bones seemed far warmer than hers.

“Héctor wake up,” she said gently shaking him.

Bleary eyes, looked at her in confusion. His head tilted a bit on the pillow, advertising his how much everything was confusing him.

“Dreaming,” he slurred, nodding a little, as though realizing how well that explained everything that was confusing him. “Mela hates me,” he moaned sadly. “but” something seemed to dawn upon him, “Mela, not Mela.”

Imelda sat there not quite knowing what to make of he garbled speech, and before she could say anything, a dopey smile spread across Héctor’s face. “Te amo,” he murmured.

She touched his face again, watching as he leaned happily into the touch, and his breathing unconsciously began to even out. “Héctor, I need you to tell me what’s wrong with you? Can you do that for me?” she asked slowly, praying that he would understand what she had asked of him, and be able to offer a little insight as to what was happening.

Héctor frowned, but gave a small nod. “ Sick. Weak memories. Too much moving. Tired. Normal… promise.”

Imelda could make some sense of that. Yesterday had been rough on him, so much so that it drained him to this point. The dead couldn’t really become ill, but memories held them together, and governed their actions. Even someone living could fall ill from exhaustion, and now that she thought about it, she could say from experience that symptoms would be much the same. In death though, exhaustion was more a product of memory, and normally a few hours of rest was enough to solve the issue, but perhaps as one was forgotten, exhaustion tended to have a stronger impact.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked gently.

“Stay,” he said.

The request itself was not what tore at her figurative heart, it was the tone. He wanted her to stay, that much was very clear, but he was resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t.

“Rest here for a moment, I’m going to tell the others I won’t be able to help in the shop today. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nodded weakly.

Imelda gave a gentle kiss to his forehead, and hurried downstairs wanting to get back to Héctor as quickly as she was able to. Everyone was gathered around the table for breakfast, and looked up as she approached. “I won’t be helping in the workshop today.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, because Imelda never took off work. The last time she had she was alive, and sick enough that she knew without a doubt that her presence would be more of a hindrance that an asset, and even then she had to be convinced by several of the others.

“Is something wrong?” Rosita asked.

Imelda knew that she could simply enforce her will, she didn’t need to explain what had transpired upstairs, but she wanted to be honest with them. “Héctor is ill,” Imelda stated. “He overexerted himself yesterday, and he… he seems to think everything that happened in the last two months hasn’t been real, and he asked me to stay with him,” she finished hoping they would understand.

“Take all the time you need, Mamá , I’ll make sure the twins stay in line.”

“Is that anyway for you to talk to your tíos?” Oscar said, with a huff.

“If anything is ruined by an experiment there will be consequences,” Imelda said sternly.

“We understand,” the twins said in perfect sync, smiling in a way that failed to fill her with any amount of confidence in their words.

“Everything will be fine, “ Rosita declared, “We’ll come get you if any problems were to happen.”

Imelda nodded, trusting that the two women, and Julio, would keep everything on schedule for the day, and with that she went back up the stairs.

Héctor’s eyes were on her the moment she walked in, and shut the door. It was clear that he had not expected her to return, and she tried not to think about why he would feel that way.

She sat in a chair, next to the bed, and he lay there watching her, as though he thought she was going to disappear if he wasn’t looking at her. “Is there anything I can do that will help?” she asked softly. She really had no idea what she could do. The dead weren’t like the living, there was no medicine, no need for food, aside from it’s comfort value, all the things one did when someone was ill, were rather pointless now since both flesh and organs were long absent at this point, aside from the placebo effect that might occur those methods were not helpful any longer.

“Sing?”

Imelda was surprised at the request, but she wouldn’t deny him that, not when it was such an easy thing to give.

Softly, she began to sing, she sang through most of the songs she knew, many of them nursery rhymes, and lullabies, she could remember singing for Coco, when she was a little girl, before stopping.

Héctor sat quietly through all of it, shaking his head slightly every time it seemed that he was about to drift off.

“Héctor, it’s alright, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He raised a hand, and placed it back down on the bed.

Imelda could see that he wanted to have a physical assurance that she would stay, and yet he was still to timid to reach out to her. Making a decision, she stood, and before Héctor could start to panic, well at least too much, since the moment she had stood their was clear panic in him, she slipped into the bed facing him. She gently pulled his arm around her, not wanting to hurt him, and slid one of her own over him. She tried not to wince at how fragile he felt to her, tried not to feel the guilt for her part in that. She failed at both, but thankfully, Héctor was far too ill, far too tired to notice what she was unable to conceal.

“Rest now, mi amor,” she said in a soothing voice. “I will be here when you wake up.”

Chapter Text

Héctor heard Imelda call out to his name. “I thought we were done,” he said, and he escaped to his room before she could voice any protest.

Now that all the excitement had worn off he felt completely drained. He groaned, as he flopped onto his bed, realizing that he was exhausted enough that it would manifest itself as an illness. He hoped that by realizing it early, and resting he could prevent it from being as bad as it tended to be when he felt like this. At the very least he was hopeful that he would have enough energy to spare so that he could say that he was fine, and there was a chance that he would be believed.

When he woke up, everything hurt, he faded in, and out of awareness until he couldn’t be certain what was real and what was some fantasy produced by his overactive imagination.

In a fuzzy haze, he put several things solidly in the imagined category. The soft bed he was on, was not real, but it was greatly appreciated, since he would rather not feel whatever floor he was really laying on at the moment, and he felt a burst of panic when he realized that the whole adventure with his little chamaco, his nieto, had been nothing more than a desperate fantasy cooked up in his mind for the sake of his own comfort.

If he had the energy he would weep. Just how close was he to the final death now? Coco was forgetting him, it had been inevitable, he had known that since had had learned the rules of the afterlife. He hadn't been able to ignore it, since her memory had first begun to weaken. That night had been his last chance, his final attempt to reach his goal, and he had failed. He had so little time until he was going to be completely forgotten, and it was certain that he would never see his Coco again. It was the one thing he had wanted more than anything else in the world, and he couldn’t even see her again.

As that thought sank into him, he thought he felt the start of a fit, brought on by the final death.

Then, before it could take hold, and set him alight like a firework, he heard the voice of an angel call out to him.

“Héctor wake up,” the angel said gently shaking him.

It was speaking to him from very far away, but Héctor could no more refuse her call than water could refuse to be wet.

When he opened his eyes to look at the angel, he knew he was dreaming, perhaps he was in the final moments of his afterlife, because the angel looked like Imelda, and she looked worried at that. The last time he had seen that expression outside of a dream, they had been alive.

“Dreaming,” he slurred. “Mela hates me,” he moaned sadly. “but Mela, not Mela,” he finished in a broken whisper. This was a fever dream, his deteriorating mind granting him one last comfort, in the shape of the wonderful woman that he loved, to ease his fade into nothingness. He was grateful for the small mercies granted to him by this dream he was having.

If this was his last chance, even if she was a dream, he had to tell her. He struggled, it was hard to find the energy to form the words, especially when he knew that the real Imelda would never accept them, but he managed, “Te amo,” he whispered.

She touched his face, and he gratefully leaned into the touch. For a moment, he let himself imagine that this was real, that Imelda cared for him once more, that she wanted him happy and healthy. “Héctor, I need you to tell me what’s wrong with you? Can you do that for me?” She asked.

He would do anything for her. She could have asked him to go pluck the sun from the sky, and he would have found a way to get it for her, she wanted him to talk, to explain his condition, well surely he had energy he could draw from somewhere to give her the answers she wanted. It didn’t matter that she was not real, she was his angel, and he would do as she asked of him.

“ Sick. Weak memories. Too much moving. Tired. Normal… promise.” he managed. He hoped it was enough, hoped he had explained well enough that she would understand him, he was so tired.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked gently.

There was one thing that he wanted from her. “Stay,” he managed to say. He knew she wouldn’t, his imaginary versions of her always left, just as he had left despite her asking him to stay. In the end, he knew that he deserved no part of her, and he knew it too well to ever delude himself no matter how much he desired her.

“Rest here for a moment, I’m going to tell the others I won’t be able to help in the shop today. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nodded weakly, forcing himself to stay awake, because she had never promised to come back before. Would she come back or was this simply the high point before he faded out of existence forever?

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, his mind was too foggy to be a reliable judge of the passage of time, but he knew the second that she came back, because looking at her was like staring into the sun, brilliant, and blinding. Had he the energy he would have let loose a grito to advertise his elation, but he didn’t, so he had to settle for watching her, which, all things considered, wasn't a bad second place prize. Actually it was just as good as first place, and he didn't have to witness the eye roll, and headshake the former would have inspired from her.

He blinked, focusing on her, as he realized that she was talking to him again. He had existed so long in the afterlife only experiencing her anger, he really didn't want to miss anything his gentle dream version of her had to say.

“Is there anything I can do that will help?” she asked softly.

“Sing?” he replied. It had been so long.

For a moment, he thought that she would refuse, and a wave of sadness came over him. He just wanted to hear her lovely voice one more time, just once more before he faded away. Then softly she began to sing to him, and he was grateful. He hadn’t gotten to see Coco, but he had gotten to see Imelda, and she had sang to him, that was more than he could have hoped for.

He forced himself to stay awake, to enjoy all the moments that he had left.

“Héctor it’s alright, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Imelda said gently, and it was so easy to imagine that they were home in Santa Cecilia, and he was ill, and she was trying to help him get better.

He even reached out for her, before the memories came back to him, Imelda would always be allowed to touch him, but he was not allowed to reach for her. He had made that rule a long time ago, both for her, and for him, and even in his final moments he saw no need to break it.

She slipped into the bed facing him, she pulled his arm around her, and slid one of her own over him. “Rest now, mi amor, I will be here when you wake up.”

Héctor took a breath, mentally saying goodbye, to everyone, and everything that he cared for, even the beings like Miguel, who he was sure were just a dream, because he knew he wasn’t going to wake up again, but he had been ordered by his angel to rest, and so he did.

Chapter Text

Héctor woke feeling shocked, and a bit confused. He vaguely remembered being ill, and then he thought he could remember having Imelda care for him, but he was fairly sure that had been a dream considering that it wouldn’t be the first time that it had happened. So he felt fairly justified when he opened his eyes, saw who was next to him, and nearly passed out.

Beside him, and how he didn't notice the limbs entwined with his own until he opened his eyes would forever be a mystery to him, was Imelda, looking as beautiful as ever. He debated letting her sleep a little longer, just enjoying the feel of her near him before she was awake and making her excuses to leave. Sure he had the nap with her against Pepita, but there was something to be said for a bedroom setting in the stillness of morning, as it brought back memories of when he and Imelda were young and happy. When they had no idea of what the future held in store for them. Then he sighed, she probably had dozens of things to do today, and he wasn’t going to keep her from them. He’d already caused her enough trouble there was no need to add to the list of things she had to resent him for.

“Imelda” he called softly, gently shaking her, and quickly removing his hand the moment she began to stir.

She blinked a few times, as she woke, focusing on him before asking, “How do you feel?”

For a moment, he couldn’t answer because, they were both awake, and yet she hadn’t moved away from him, and her first thought had been his health, maybe it was just his imagination or some wishful thinking, but he was fairly sure her grip on him had tightened. “B-better,” he stuttered, fearful of breaking whatever spell that had her laying here with him.

Her hand reached out to touch his face, and he wasn’t able to stop from leaning into the touch, and humming a little in contentment.

“You still feel a bit too warm, so you need to take it easy today.”

“I will,” he promised easily.

They sat in silence for a while, and Héctor had almost managed to drift off again, when he heard Imelda sigh.

“Héctor we need to talk,” she said.

He wanted nothing more in that moment than to escape, nothing good came from those words in his experience, but he was to tired to physically leave or to verbally distract, so he took a breath, and simply waited.

“I need to ask what you want from me.”

“Imelda-” he started only to be cut off.

“I know we both are to blame for what happened, but I almost caused you to fade from this world, I know I was hurting, but I never should have hurt my family the way I did because of my pain. I tried to make our daughter hate you, tried to make her forget you, and that’s unforgivable. Even worse, I carried my hatred of you into death, and nearly condemned Miguel to death, because I didn’t want him to have anything to do with music. I nearly caused my grandson’s death, just to prove a point. I can’t forgive myself for that, and I’ll understand if you can’t trust me or want me, because of what I have done to you, and the pain I've caused our family.

“At first I thought we could just move past it, but you are so hesitant to reach out for me, and you don’t seek me out, so I don’t know what you want Héctor. Please just tell me, so that I know where we stand, and I can give you whatever it is that you want from me, even if it is… freedom ” She choked on the word, but she continued before he could get a word in. “I won’t judge you for it, and I promise I will never force you out of the family ever again, no matter what you decide.”

After that she fell silent as though saying what she did had drained her. It wouldn't have mattered if she did have the energy to keep speaking as the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks would have likely muddled anything else she tried to say. She hadn't meant to cry, because that wasn't fair to him since she was trying to give him a no strings attached offer, but she couldn't help it. She pulled her hands up so that she could cover her face, at least that way she could pretend that Héctor wouldn't notice her tears.

“Imelda, mi vida, I want you. All I have wanted since the day I died, was to be with you and Coco again. I don’t reach out for you because I don’t know if you want me. Even before I left, I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. It was a fear I always carried with me, and it seemed to be a proven fact when I died. You were angry at me, and had every right to be, more importantly your anger kept you strong, it helped you to find a trade, and paved the path to a good life for you, for Coco, and the rest of the family that came after. As you said, we both made mistakes, I never should have left, and you shouldn’t have let your anger affect the children, but that’s in the past, and I like to think that we are stronger because of it. If you will allow me, I want to stay here, in this house, together with you and everyone else, and I want to get closer to everyone, including you mi diosa.”

Her grip tightened on him as though she was the one that couldn’t believe that they still wanted one another. “You really mean that?”

Héctor nodded. “I want you Imelda, Even after everything that has happened, I never stopped wanting you.”

“I’m not the woman I used to be,” Imelda confessed softly, because she felt he needed to know that, he needed to know that she had changed. She hoped that wouldn't disappoint him.

“And I’m not the man I used to be, Imelda.” Imelda looked at him with wide eyes. His tone was far more serious than she had ever heard it. “We have both changed from how we last knew each other, too much time has passed for that not to be true, but I certainly don’t mind that you’ve changed because that means I can look forward to getting to know you again. I just hope you don’t mind that I’m different, and that you want to get to know me as well.”

“Of course I don’t mind that you are different: of course I want to get to know you again. That’s why we are having this conversation, idiota.”

“I’ll be an idiot as long as I’m yours.” he said sweetly with a bright, and charming smile.

It was such a shift in tone that she couldn’t help, but laugh. Apparently, she had found something about him that hadn’t changed, and that was his ability to undercut a serious moment, with a burst of good humor. “You’re impossible,” Imelda said.

“Imelda?”

“What is it, Héctor?”

“After I get better, would you want… to go out with me?”

“Like a date?” she asked softly.

“As a date,” he corrected.

A smile broke over her face, and she nodded.

Héctor responded to her smile with one of his own. It looked like things were going to be just fine.

Chapter Text

Things were not going to be fine.

Héctor pulled at his hair in a panic. He was going to mess up everything, and then Imelda would hate him forever, and he would have to live in Shantytown again, and all his nearly forgotten family would laugh at him, because he was a moron, and had managed to screw everything up, and-

No, no, no, he couldn’t think like that. He just needed a little bit of help, that was all. The date was set for tomorrow night, so he had this night, and all of the next day to prepare. So what if he couldn't leave the house, right now. He knew Imelda, and consequently Pepita, and probably all the other alebrije as well, were watching him, and he wasn't going to do anything to upset any of them. He could do this though. Help was right down the hall, he just had to go ask for it.

He took some deep breaths, so that he was simply breathing a little faster than normal, and not hyperventilating, and went down to Rosita’s room. “Papá Héctor what’s wrong?” the woman asked when she saw how panicked he looked.

“No time,” he said hurriedly, looking about frantically, and then he pulled her a few door down towards Victoria’s room.

His conversation with his granddaughter, went much the same way as his one with Rosita, before he was dragging them both to his room. He looked up, and down the hall as he went, making sure there was nobody there, shut the door firmly, after they go in the room, and locked it, before heaving a sigh.

“I need your help,” he blurted out, pacing the length of his room because he had to do something with all the nervous energy that he had pent up inside of him. “Imelda agreed to go out with me,” he said pausing, because, he was still having a hard time believing it. A month ago, that would have been about as possible as Frida Kahlo deciding to never have another artistic venture.

“And this is a problem because...?” Victoria asked.

“Do you have nowhere to take her?” Rosita asked.

“Of course I have a place to take her,” Héctor answered appalled that the woman would think him that unprepared. Imelda was his diosa, the love of his existence, of course he had a place to take her on a date.

“Then what’s the issue?” Victoria asked.

Héctor began to pace again. “I had everything planned,” he’d had everything planned for a long time, because he was an idiot in love, and no matter how many times Imelda rejected him, he couldn’t help thinking about it, and planning, and planning, until he had the perfect evening perfectly planned, “but then I looked at myself and…I have nothing to wear!” he cried out.

Rosita, and Victoria sat in there on his bed, in silence, looked at each other, and then went back to watching Héctor literally crying over his lack of suitable clothing, before both of them burst into laughter.

“Help me!” he cried, gazing at them with large pitiful puppy dog eyes.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Rosita said once she was able to sober up.

“Gracias, gracias gracias,” Héctor repeated, peppering both of their faces with a multitude of kisses, that neither of them fought against. He didn’t care that they had laughed at him, it hadn't been meanspirited, he would know, and furthermore he might have laughed in their position as well, and also because they had agreed to help him.

~

The next night, Héctor waited at the bottom of the stairs, feeling the same nervous anticipation he had felt the first time that Imelda had agreed to go out with him. He was so nervous, that none of the others dare to make fun of him, lest he run off to hide for the rest of his existence.

He fidgeted, looking down at himself once more, the girls really had come through for him. He was going to have to do something really nice for them, for the whole family really.

They had gotten him new pants, black in color, his suspenders, and necktie had been washed, they had fixed his shirt into a nice vest, and his polished bones had lost a bit of their yellow tinge. He wasn’t nearly as pristine as any of the other Riveras, but at least he no longer appeared to be on final death’s door. The finishing touch had been a custom made pair of Rivera shoes. They were very casual, and quite comfy. Apparently, the twins, Victoria, Rosita, and Julio had made them, and were simply waiting on a special occasion to present them, since outside of visits to Shantytown, which Héctor dressed seemed to dress down for anyway, the man hardly left the house.

Naturally, all this ceased to matter when he saw Imelda descend the stairs. Her hair was pinned up elaborately, and a shining comb accentuated the look. She was wearing a purple dress very much like the one she wore casually, but the leather apron was nowhere to be seen, and the dress had subtle beading around the neckline, and hem, that sparkled whenever the light hit it just right.

In short she was strikingly beautiful, an angel, and somehow, through some twist of fate, she was his. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she brushed imaginary dust off of her dress, and through that one action he realized that somehow, despite being the most beautiful, magnificent, being in the Land of the Dead, she was unsure, and possibly, just as nervous as he was.

“You look beautiful, Imelda,” he said.

“You clean up fairly well yourself,” she replied eyes lingering on his shoes, and coming back up to his slightly brighter markings.

The compliment had Héctor feeling like he might melt into a puddle, and despite the fact that memory held him together more firmly than it had in the last decade, it took a good deal of concentration to keep himself from falling apart, because good heaven, she had complimented him on his looks, she still thought he was attractive, and he was happy he no longer had the capability to blush, because he might have spontaneously combusted if he did.

“Now Héctor, be sure to have-” Oscar started

“- our dear sister back by ten,” Felipe finished.

Imelda glared at her brothers.

The twins backed away, not wanting to chance a collision with their sister’s boots. She had long since mastered the art of dual wielding so that she could get them at the same time, and they were just happy that they hadn’t jokingly suggested that someone should chaperone.

“Have fun you two,” Rosita said, she was obviously very pleased that they were rekindling the romance. For a woman with no love life of her own, she really was invested in the relationships within the family, actually it was likely because she had no love life of her own that she was so invested.

“We’ll make sure the twins don’t burn down the house,” Victoria promised them as they headed for the door.

“That was one time!” Héctor heard the twins say in unison as he and Imelda left through the front door.

“Are you really sure you want to stay here with this family?” Imelda asked as they walked. “ if you do I want you to have fair warning that you’ll be surrounded by that kind of crazy all the time.”

Héctor laughed. “Most claim that I lost my sanity a long time ago.”

Imelda tried not to think about all the things he might be referring to with that single statement. That was something to be addressed later. “I’ve noticed you’ve been composing again,” she said.

“I have a lot of inspiration lately.”

“Did you write much before…?” she trailed off.

He shook his head. “I was more concerned with crossing the bridge, than writing music, and the rest of the year between attempts were spent doing favors for those I borrowed from, saving some credits from doing odd jobs, and coming up with new plans.” he glanced over, and saw a sad look on her face. “There was this one time,” he said laughing at the memory, “I was a tour guide, it was really fun actually, and I learned how to play the accordion.”

Imelda looked over him, gazing up, and down his body with a calculated gaze that would have had him in a lot of trouble had they still been alive. Once again he was grateful for his inability to blush. “I don’t think I could imagine you as a tour guide,” she confessed.

Héctor regained his composure, and winked at her, before pulling himself up to his full height, and schooling his features into a professional smile. “...and to your right, we have the Art District. Several of your favorite artists, such as Frida Kahlo, maintain offices there...” On and on he went in a practiced speech, that was both informational, and slightly boring as tours tended to be.

“Impressive,” Imelda said once he had finished.

“You should hear the jokes I had to tell every group, they were very stale, most of them just gave me pity laughs,” he commented.

“Most of your jokes tend to be stale.” she said with a sly grin.

“Ay!” he exclaimed. “I happen to be very funny,” he declared.

“Funny looking,” she tossed back.

“You wound me, mi amor,” he said dramatically, raising his free hand, as he had been holding Imelda’s hand since they had left the house, with his right hand, and he wasn’t letting go until he had to or she told him to, and placing it over his chest where his heart once resided.

“You’ll live,” she said without a thought.

They lasted about three seconds before glancing at one another, and bursting into laughter.

They were still in good humor when they arrived at La Kaz. It had a calm atmosphere, tables with white cloths filled half the main area, the other half was occupied by a bar, and a dance floor.

The place looked really nice, and Imelda turned to Héctor. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to be here?” she asked.

Héctor knew what she meant. Though he was being remembered, his yellowed bones still stood out, and some establishments were not to accepting of those suffering from being forgotten. He could tell she wasn’t ashamed of being with him though, she just wanted to know if she needed to be prepared to wield her rather well-made boots in his defence.

“They are accepting here,” he assured her easily, there was a resin he had chosen this place..

“Richard,” Héctor called out after spotting a tall skeleton, across the room, that was dressed in a charcoal gray suit.

The skeleton, with the pristine white bones of one well remembered, turned as his name was called out. He had very nice markings, Imelda noted. He had blue dots lining the area around his eye sockets, and three purple stripes per cheek with small silver dots that made them look like a starry sky.

The man walked over eyeing Héctor critically as he did so. “I’m glad you’re still here.” he commented in a stilted voice.

“Me too, amigo, can we have a table?”

It was then that the man focused on Imelda.

He smiled, “This will teach everyone to bet against me,” Richard commented as he guided them to a table in a cozy corner. Suddenly the man began to spazz out, mumbling about something that Imelda couldn’t decipher, only to exclaim, “Of course! It was so simple!” No one even looked his way other than Imelda herself.

“Give him a moment, he just figured out the answer to something. He used to be a detective, and he still takes cases from time to time even though he owns, and manages this place.”

“You have some odd friends,” Imelda couldn’t help commenting.

“It is true,” Héctor admitted with a chuckle.

Once the man had calmed down, he asked, “Do you want the usual?”

“You know me too well,” Héctor said.

“Will you order for me?” Imelda asked.

“Are you sure?” Héctor asked.

She nodded.

“She’ll have the usual as well, but sub in fruit instead.”

He nodded, and went to fill the order.

“I’ve missed this,” Héctor said after they had sat in silence for a moment.

“Me too,” Imelda admitted. “I didn’t want to, but I missed you, I missed your goofy smile, your terrible jokes, and just- well everything about you, I was just too stubborn to ever admit it.”

“I’m just happy you are with me now,” he said so happily it was impossible to doubt him. “Can I tell you something that’s been on my mind since… you know, everything happened?” he asked suddenly.

“Of course,” she replied softly.

“I- well… Once I started to fade, I was afraid I would be alone, when… it happened. I was scared… I didn’t want to be alone. After my failed attempt to get over the bridge, I was going to stop by the shop one last time, to wait for you, before I went back to Shantytown. I thought that, even if you hated me, it would be nice to say… to get to say goodbye this time.”

He looked up to see tears falling down Imelda’s cheeks.

“Lo siento, I didn’t mean-”

“Héctor, it’s alright. I’m just so happy that you weren’t forgotten. I would have had to see you fade, I almost did, and even being as mad as I was, facing that reality, I know my heart would have been broken again. It would have been even worse if you were gone and I didn’t know.”

Imelda reached across the table with her hand, and Héctor gladly slotted his hand into hers, bones meshing like puzzle pieces, both of them needed a physical connection to prove that they were still here.

Before the silence could last too long, their food came out. The main course was some kind of thick soup, and she had a side of fruit, while Héctor had a pudding, to drink there was both hot tea, and water.

The food was very good, and while eating, they stayed on safer topics like the twins experiments, and potential decoration for the backyard since it was getting more use in the recent days. In an effort to keep things silly, Héctor had even suggested a pair of flamingos, painted to look like alebrijes. Imelda easily said no to that, and Héctor pouted, and she rolled her eyes at him.

After they had finished eating, Héctor gave her a shy grin. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, and he got to his feet, came around the table, and took her hand. He led her to the dance floor, they were playing a rather slow song, so he pulled her close, and they fell into the rhythm.

Imelda could feel him shaking as he held her, and she tightened her hold, trying convey with the touch that he was allowed this, that they were allowed to be here together like this. She could feel him slowly begin to calm, as she reassured him, and she closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder as they moved in time to the music.

She knew that all his doubt would not be resolved in one night, just as her emotional baggage would take time to clear, but what she knew for certain was that they were approaching a new normal, and she was ever so grateful for that.

Chapter Text

“Will you two get to work!” Imelda snapped.

“But Imelda-” Felipe started.

“-you’re naked,” Oscar finished with an air of a mentally scarred man.

Imelda looked down, expecting to see an abundance of purple, only to find nothing, but pristine white bones.

For a moment her mind went blank, and then she ran out of the workshop, snagging a spare apron on the way.

~

Imelda woke with a gasp.

She gazed down at herself, finding herself clothed in her casual white nightgown. She frowned, she remembered coming home from the restaurant, looking at some late night cheesy horror movie, whilst holding hands, and cuddling with Héctor, and then… nothing.

Looking to the side, she noticed Héctor, sitting in a chair, one of his legs was balanced on the bed, that foot was bare, the other on the floor, and that foot still had the shoe on it. His hat was in his lap, one arm supporting his head, and the other, her gaze traveled down his yellowed bone, using the light from outside, was entwined with hers.

She looked over at the clock, the orange numbers told her it was two in the morning, which was far too early to be up, even for her. Before she could begin to second guess herself, she woke him.

Héctor woke with a start, jumping up, and dropping her hand. “Lo siento, I’ll go, you were tired, and I-”

“Héctor it’s too early, I didn’t wake you up, to tell you to get out, I woke you because you looked uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” he sighed, utterly relived. “I guess I’ll just head to bed then.”

She didn’t know if it was the early hour or some fear of losing him, but she was out of the bed before he could so much as open the door. “I want you to stay.”

“Imelda...” he breathed.

“Stay with me, Héctor?” She hadn’t meant for it to be a question, but in the end, it was for the best. Deciding if he wanted to stay with her was something that should be his choice.

Timidly, he approached, she crawled back into the bed, and after taking off his other shoe and his suspenders, he laid down beside her. Once he was in the bed, she pulled the blanket over them.

After a moment, he shifted, timidly taking hold of her, and she gratefully snuggled into him, letting him know that she approved of his actions.

It felt so good to have him beside her again, sure it was true that they had shared his bed that night when he was ill, and there was that short nap against Pepita, however, there was a big difference between those times, and now, in that this was his choice. She had asked him to stay with her, and he had chosen to stay; had chosen to lay beside her, and hold her close.

For decades, she had denied herself this feeling; this happiness. For the past two and a half months, he had lived under the same roof with her, and she had let her pride keep her away from him. She didn’t want to think how long it would have taken before she talked to him if he hadn’t gotten sick.

Suddenly, she was seized with the fear that something would take him away from her. Thankfully, her fears that he would fall victim to the final death the moment she wasn’t with him had receded, but in it’s place was the fear that something would happen, that she was never meant to be as happy as he made her. She didn’t even realize she was sobbing until she felt him trying to calm her. She was not a weak woman, she knew this, but she had cried more in the last few days than she had in decades. What must he think of her?

“I think you’re wonderful,” he answered, and she realized she had spoken at least the last part aloud.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she confessed. “Every time I think about what happened, what could have happened, what might happen, I just… it hurts Héctor. It hurts so much.”

“I know,” he said soothingly.

It was then that Imelda remembered one of the big reasons they worked so well together. Héctor might not be the most physically powerful, but he was very strong emotionally. More than once, he had helped her work through her feelings, and find the brightest spots in bleak situations. He knew when it was best to talk through things, and when it was best to simply give her a distraction.

She smiled as one time she had needed a distraction came to her mind. “Do you remember when Coco was a baby, and there was nothing we could do to get her to smile? I think she was picking up on the fear we had of being able to make a living, and you went into our room, and came out in one of my dresses with a flower in your hair.” Imelda chuckled at the memory.

Héctor smiled. “I do remember, it was a very good idea because it made both of my girls smile, and I like to think that the dress looked very good on me.” Héctor said quite proudly.

“It was a good thing you were so thin, if you had stretched that dress out, I would have had to punish you.”

“You could still punish me for it if you want to,” he said suggestively.

“Héctor,” she said with mock exasperation. Privately, she couldn’t help wondering how that would even work. She had heard things about well, things, not much, but enough to know it was actually possible. She had never tried it, of course, since she never had a reason to, and she wasn’t even sure how it could be done because they were just bones.

Seeing her discomfort, Héctor said, “Do you remember how you carried me over the threshold when we got married.”

Imelda laughed. “You were blushing so hard the neighbors thought you were the bride.”

“And who’s fault was that?”

“Well I wasn’t about to let you try to carry me, I weighed more than you did, and that dress weighed a ton, you would have broken your back trying to lift me. We could have just walked into the house, but no you had to say, ‘well someone needs to be carried over the threshold, it’s tradition!’”

“What about all the other times then?”

“Those times were just for fun, you were always very cute when you were embarrassed.”

“I think I was, and still am, very cute all the time, thank you very much,” he asserted pridefully.

“And I think you are extremely vain, but I love you anyway.”

He gave a small laugh. “I love you too.”

"Goodnight Héctor."

"Goodnight Imelda."

Chapter Text

A few days later, Imelda was reminded of the bad side of Héctor being so good with other peoples emotions. He was so good at helping others work through emotions, that he rarely gave himself enough time to work through his own. That was not to say he was easily or frequently overwhelmed, but in situations where that was the case, he tended to keep it to himself, if he could, and when he finally had to confront the emotions, well it tended to be somewhat messy because of the fact that he had waited so long to deal with them.

At first, she thought that he had lost someone. He and Marco would go to Shantytown for a few hours most days since he had recovered, and he came back every night with either a somber disposition or tales of his wisecracking tíos y primos and sometimes both.

The happy days were the best, but the times when he had experienced loss and happiness were okay as well because his sadness was tempered with the happiness. He had confessed his hope that the final death was not the last stop for a person's soul, and on those days, through his stories, the ones he lost existed once more.

It was easy to guess that he had lost another friend, and it might have actually been true, but his melancholy seemed to be deeper this time. When he lost someone, he was sad, but at the same time the hope that final death wasn't the end was enough to lift his spirit. Usually he played a sad song, that morphed into a more happy one, and by the next time something they did as a family, like eating meals or watching a film or stopping the twins from blowing up the house with their latest invention, he was in far better humor than when he had returned home.

They were all used to the cycle at this point, they knew the best thing that they could do was allow him to work through his loss, which is why they were surprised when he didn’t work through it as he usually did. His behavior was so similar to how it was when he first woke up in their home, back when he had used humor as a shield, and then withdrew as soon as he could, that it frightened them all. He was trying to hide from them, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

Finally, Imelda could not handle it any longer. She couldn’t concentrate on her work when she was this worried. The others weren’t faring much better either. Héctor was far too easy to love, that was the problem. It had been just a little more than three months since the man had been brought into the family, and all of them were quite attached even if some of them were somewhat more reluctant to openly show it. How could they avoid it? The man was a lovable goofball, whose biggest faults were that he trusted too easily, and loved his family too much.

Walking out of the shop, she went to the backyard, knowing that she would find him there. Sure enough, Héctor was there under the tree, leaning against Pepita, and the large cat was curled around his small frame protectively. Elias was on his left side, Sophia was perched on his head, Marco was sitting in the circle of his legs, Luna, Rikki, and Tikki, were settled on his right side.

The alebrijes had all seemed to have picked up on his sad mood, and were doing what they could to help him feel better.

He was playing a song, and even the guitar seemed to be channeling his upset with its sad music. For a moment, Imelda couldn't move, there was an absurd amount of beauty in a scene that was far too sad, and it kept her in place for some time.

“Héctor, what’s the matter?” She asked when she was able to snap out of her stillness. Then she sat in an open space near him, to wait for his answer.

For a while, it seemed like he wouldn’t answer, but then he sighed. “I shouldn’t be reacting like this,” he said.

“Did you lose someone important?”

He nodded. “I did, but…” he trailed off. He played a somber melody on the guitar. “I know how to deal with losing them, I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years. I’m not desensitized to the loss, but I know how to handle it.”

She waited, giving him all the time he needed to order his thoughts.

“It’s different when you know you’ll see them again, but that it’ll be a long time in the future.”

It hit her like a ton of bricks. One would have had to be blind, deaf, and dumb to miss how Héctor had bonded with Miguel. They’d only known each other for one night, less than ten hours, some of which wasn't spent in each other's company, and for the majority of it, they had been unaware of their relationship to one another. She could still remember how the boy had stood up for Héctor, risking his life, and willing to forgo music for an ancestor, for a friend, he hardly knew. She was still haunted by his anguished cry when they had forced him to go home when Héctor had been lying on the ground seconds away from the final death.

“I miss him so much, I knew him for one night, and I love him like he was my own child. I’ll never be able to tell him that he saved me, to thank him for that or be able to tell him that I love him, until he dies. I won’t even be able to see him grow up.”

Imelda sat there, not knowing what to do. There was nothing that she could do. Héctor couldn't cross the bridge because Miguel had no picture of Héctor to put up, no one did, and even if there were a photo, there was no way for them to communicate with the living.

Something in Imelda argued that they could have found a way, things she thought impossible had a way of happening where Héctor was concerned.

"Héctor," she started, unsure of what she could say to help him feel better. She hoped by speaking she would simply come up with something to say. "I like to think that he knows. Surely he's asked that clumsy mutt of his, about you and next year I'll have the others check that way we will know for sure.

Héctor was quiet for a bit, considering her words. "What do you mean the others will check?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well I'm not going to leave you here alone."

"Imelda you can't -"

"Héctor don't try to talk me out of this. Its my choice, and I chose to stay with you." she could tell he wanted to argue, but a look had him swallowing his words. This conversation wasn't over, that was clear, but for right now he was willing to let it go. He was likely trying to come up with a reason that would convince her, but she was certain he would fail. She wasn't crossing that bridge again unless he was right beside her.

~

“Bye Mamá,” Miguel said softly, since his little sister was cradled in his mother’s arms.

“Have fun at school, mijo,” Luisa answered just as softly, so as not to startle the infant in her arms.

“I’m going to the library after school,” Miguel informed her, because that was a new rule, he always told one of his parents where he was going, and he was always back before sundown.

“Bye, Coco,” he said even more softly, kissing the baby’s face with the gentlest pressure.

This had become his routine before he went to school. He loved his little sister, and he wanted her to know that he did from the second she was in existence, and even though she would never remember her first months of life, he would, and he would let her know that he loved her from the start.

Coco was just over two weeks old now, and she was the cutest thing on the planet. Miguel had been there since day one, he wanted her to know that her big brother was always going to be looking out for her. It seemed she was aware of this, because she would normally cry when he left for school or to play with his friends, if she was awake.

Thus started this part of his routine. He would tell her goodbye and kiss her, then whisper his promises to come back, and tell her that he would sing her special song. Now she rarely cried when he left, and he was convinced that she might have been the smartest baby on the earth, but he might have been slightly bias.

As he headed to school, he thought about how his life had changed. It had been a little over three months since his adventure in the Land of the Dead, and so much was different now. Firstly, the music ban that had been in effect for almost a 100 years had finally been lifted. Secondly, Mamá Coco was remembering more, and more things about here early life, ensuring that Papá Héctor wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon. Another change, was that Dante was no longer a stray, he was still a goofy nuisance, but he was officially Miguel’s goofball dog now. Another thing was that Miguel now held the family record for the longest grounding ever. His punishment had lasted for nearly a month, and really he counted that as a blessing, since he half expected to be grounded for the rest of his life.

There were less pleasant changes as well, like way everyone seemed to watch him, because they didn't want to lose him again. Then ther was the dreams, Miguel was never one to have nightmares before, at least not that he could remember, but now he was plagued with them. A mix of memories of being in the cenote, and his adventure going horribly wrong in someway or another plagued his mind more frequently than he had liked to admit.

Dante was always there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nowadays, they were happening less often, thanks in large part to a conversation he’d had with his parents.

He’d been staying up doing late night research since he had gotten back. He was determined to find a way to prove Papá Héctor’s story to others, and it was a good way to spend all that time he was grounded. The research also doubled as a way to tire himself out. Being exhausted hadn't really helped the nightmares, and in retrospect that might have made them worse, what being exhausted did do, was make him less likely to wake anyone when he awoke in a panic.

One night, a few days after he was no longer grounded, his parents had sent him to bed early, clearly worried about the lack of sleep he was getting. He was sure falling asleep at dinner was what had clued them in, but later Rosa had said his sluggishness and the dark circles were the biggest signs.

Of course, that night he had the worst nightmare. He had watched Héctor fade into dust, and then Ernesto had tossed him off the building, and he had nearly hit the ground when he woke up.

He was so tired, and the dream had been so real that he couldn't stop his tears. What if he had been too late? It hurt to think about that, and it did nothing to stop his sobbing.

That was when he found out about his parents routine of making sure he was in his bed at night. They found him awake, crying his heart out, and the next second they were holding him, trying to calm him down.

He clung to both his parents in a way he hadn't since he was a very little boy, he couldn't help it.

They made shushing sounds, but seemed content to let him cry himself out.

Once he had, his father had asked him of he would like to tell them what was wrong.

To his shock he did. He hadn't told anyone what had really happened that day. They would think he was nuts, but maybe if he told his parents something close enough to the truth the dreams would lose some of their power

"I've been having nightmares about what happened the night I ran away," he'd admitted. He was ashamed of that because everything was fine now, for the most part, at least, he was almost a teenager, so he was a little old for something like this.

"So have we," Luisa said.

Miguel had stared at her.

"It's true, mijo," Enrique added. "We thought we lost you, nobody could find you, and we thought something really bad might have happened."

Miguel looked away guilty. He hadn't even considered how worried he had made everyone. That strengthened his resolve to tell them something of the truth.

"I was so upset I just ran. I ended up at de la Cruz's crypt, I just wanted to play at the contest in the plaza. I heard someone come in, and I hid.

"When everything got quiet, I looked around, and I didn't know where I was. I wanted to come home, but I was lost. Then I heard someone call out to me. He was a really old guy," Miguel said, barely managing to stop a smile. Héctor was old, he didn't look it though. "I know I shouldn't have talked to him, but I wasn't able to stop myself. He told me that he used to be a musician, and that ambition made him leave his family. He realized too late what a mistake he had made since he was never able to go back. He made me realize that I didn't love music more than I love my family, but that I wanted my family to love me even though they hated music. I wanted to matter more than some old grudge.

"Then I woke up, I was back at the crypt, and the guitar was right beside me. I remembered the whole dream, and I knew that I had to stop the grudge. Nobody deserves to be forgotten because of a mistake. We don't even know why he never came back. Maybe he got sick and died. What if he was coming back home, but something happened to him? If that was true, the family has hated him for something that wasn't his fault. That wasn't fair, family shouldn't forget family, especially when nobody knows what happened for real. That was why I chose the song I did.

"Sometimes I dream that I never made it home though, and it really scares me."

They had stayed with him that night, and after that the dreams began to taper off, but he still worried about Héctor's fate. He had good reason to believe he had been in time, since every time he voiced his concern to Dante, the dog proceeded to attack him with that long tongue of his, but knowing that just wasn't enough for Miguel. He wanted to know if his grandfather had been accepted back into the family, if after all this time Héctor with Imelda again, because it was obvious that they still loved each other a lot.

These were questions he wouldn't have answers to for a long time, and that hurt more than it should. He didn't know why he felt so close to Héctor or why missing him hurt so much, because he missed his other dead relatives too, but it was different in a way he couldn't quite figure out. It was like there was more than memories connecting him to Héctor, and whatever it was made being away from him painful, but that was impossible right? There wasn't anything that could do something like that. Shaking his head, Miguel turned his attention to his teacher so that he wouldn't get caught spacing out, the last thing he needed right now was a detention.

Chapter Text

“Poor Héctor,” Oscar sighed, once Imelda had given them all a basic overview of what was troubling him.

The others felt the same sadness, they might not have witnessed much interaction between Miguel and Héctor, but even from the little they had seen, they knew that the two of them had bonded quite deeply. The biggest problem was that none of them knew what to do about it, because there really wasn’t anything that they could do in this situation. 

“Maybe there is nothing we can do about him missing Miguel, but perhaps a little distraction would help him,” Julio suggested as his gaze happened to encounter the calendar on the wall in the workshop.

The others looked, and saw the day on the next week that was circled tidily with in purple pen.

That would be a good distraction.

~

They left him alone for a few days, which he was indeed grateful for. With any luck, the sadness would recede into a dull ache, when given a bit more time to do so, since he knew that the feeling of missing his little chamaco wasn't going anywhere.

It was five days after his talk with Imelda, that Héctor woke from a afternoon nap to the sound of someone knocking at his door. Several nights a week, he and Imelda shared her bed, but sometimes he was grateful for his own space, especially when he wanted to be alone or nap. He hated burdening her or any of the others with his sadness, and when he was in his room, Marco was the only one there to see it. He had tried to get the little alebrije to leave him to his misery, but the first time he tried was the last because Marco bit him. It hadn’t hurt or done any damage to his mending bones, but the meaning behind the bite was clear, he could shut everyone out if he wanted, but Marco wasn’t going anywhere.

“Héctor are-”

“-you awake?" The twins asked.

Judging by their voices, they were very excited about something. Héctor hoped that he didn’t bring down the mood of whatever they were so excited for.

He opened the door, Marco on his shoulder, and was greeted by two extremely excited skeletons. They were practically vibrating, where they stood, and the picture they created, made Héctor laugh, which was probably what they had intended.

They practically dragged him down the stairs, one on either side of him, since apparently, he wasn't moving fast enough for them unassisted, and in the yard he found not only the human members of the family, but also the alebrijes.

“What’s happening?” Héctor asked.

“It’s Alebrije Swap Day!” The twins chorused together.

Imelda walked over to him, and scooped Marco into her arms, the little pup loved her attention almost as much as Héctor did. “Since there are no sick days anymore, we instituted an off day rotation, and created a few holidays. Each of us got to create one, Oscar chose a day to swap alebrijes, and it got split into a two-day event so we have half days in the workshop. On the first day the alebrijes get to choose who they want to be with, and the second, we get to choose. The only rule in place is that the same pair can’t be together on both days.”

“What holiday did you make?” Héctor asked.

“I’ll tell you when it gets here.” she said with a grin.

If Héctor had a heart, it would have been beating far too rapidly, because good heaven, Imelda was being sassy, and she was teasing him. He was certain that she had even walked away with a more pronounced sashay, just to make him make a fool of himself, as he watched her. Dios, If he wasn’t already in love with her, he would have fallen at that moment, as it was though, he had to settle for falling in love with her all over again, which, wasn’t bad at all, especially when he considered that it was a far cry from where he thought he would be this time last year.

Héctor sighed happily, unable to help himself, and that was when he became aware that everyone was staring at him, and of course Imelda was smirking at him, and once again he was under her spell. He pulled his gaze away from the vixen that was his wife, and he gave a sheepish laugh, and grabbed his left arm with his right. “So... which alebrije chooses first?”

There was silence, mostly because they were all trying not to react to the scene they had witnessed, because it was was really odd to see this side of the woman who, for the most part, was always such a stern presence. Right now though, she was so happy, and vibrant, and, apart from the twins, this was the first time they were truly seeing her, as she must have been during the time that she was courted by Héctor. Well, given the way the scene was playing out, perhaps Héctor had pursued her, to gain her interest, but Imelda had definitely done some pursuing of her own. This was clearer still, due to the obvious pride Imelda was broadcasting in the face of Héctor's embarrassment.

Imelda hadn't meant to tease him so much, but it had come so naturally. She had forgotten just how much fun it was, and it didn't help matters that Héctor was adorable when he was embarrassed.

Héctor pouted, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes.

She wasn't fooled by that look in the slightest, but she couldn't just have him looking at her, with the most powerful look in his arsenal. She was next to him in a flash, pulling him into a hug, before smothering him in kisses, the he was so fond of doing to others.

Héctor didn't let himself second guess his actions, before he wrapped his arms around Imelda, and pulled her in for a kiss. 

She was clearly surprised, but his anxiety over her rejecting his kiss, dissipated when she wrapped her arms around him in return.

"Awww," Rosita couldn't help squealing at the adorable sight before her.

Imelda backed away from Héctor with a mock glare, as though it was all his fault.

It was his turn to give her a sly smirk, because, it was nice to know that he still had the ability to make her forget the world with a kiss, and he knew that she would be blushing full force were it possible. She had clearly forgotten their audience, and she had always used anger to hide her embarrassment, when they were caught kissing.

There was silence in the yard, since the alebrijes seemed content to watch the drama playing out before them, until someone finally spoke again. “How about we let Marco go first?” Julio suggested, getting things back on track, by providing an answer to Héctor's question.

Imelda had sat Marco down with the other alebrijes, and at Julio's suggestion the little pup walked the line in front of them all, seeming to have a bit of trouble choosing who he wanted to spend the day with, but he stopped at Victoria’s feet, and she picked him up, holding him gently as though he might break.

It made Héctor smile to see that, and it gave him the hope that one day Victoria would consent to some quality time with him.

Luna was next up, the little lamb looked over them, before settling at Imelda’s side.

The foxes seemed to have their picks already because they went at the same time, Rikki settling beside Julio, and Tikki, beside Rosita.

Pepita went to Oscar, and he petted her as she sat beside him.

Sophia flew to Felipe, perching on his head, and somehow adopting an expression that was far too smug for an owl. Héctor wonder what she had in store for Felipe, and by the looks of things the others were curious as well.

Last to pair up, were Elias and Héctor. Somehow though, there was the impression that the alebrijes had discussed who was getting to go with Héctor.

“So you’re the one that’s stuck with me eh?” Héctor asked as he gently placed a hand between Elias’s antlers, and gently began to pet him. Over the alebrije, Héctor could see Julio giving him a smile, and Héctor shyly returned it. Thanks to seeing Victoria, and Imelda, so gentle with Marco, and seeing Marco so content in their holds, he knew what it was to see his alebrije being happy in the care of another.

Something warm went through Héctor at that moment, standing in the yard with the whole family assembled, it suddenly dawned on him that this was what he had to look forward to. An afterlife full of family, and times spent with them. He made a promise to himself right there that when he was upset, he would seek someone out, he would try his best not to make them worry about him, he wanted to say that he would keep them from worrying, but he knew that was going to be impossible, since he seemed to have a knack for making them concerned. He was allowed to be sad, there was a lot of memories, and events that would make him feel that way, but he wouldn't stay sad, especially when he had so much to be happy about.

Chapter Text

“So what would you like to do?” Victoria asked the little wolf alebrije in her hands.

Marco jumped to the ground and went inside the house. He ran into the living room, and sat before the bookcase.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked in surprise.

Marco gave a yip, and wagged his tail.

“Any requests?” she asked as she walked over to the self, only to see a book that was not pushed in all the way. She pulled it out. It was her collection of Shakespeare’s plays.

“This one?” she questioned.

Marco yipped.

Victoria bent down, and lifted the wolf, taking both of them to the sofa. There were two bookmarks in the book.

She opened it, and saw it was on the starting page of Twelfth Night, the other was bookmarking, The Taming of the Shrew.

Victoria looked at Marco, turning the book so that he could see the pages.

Marco wagged his tail.

~

“So what are we doing, Luna?” Imelda asked the little lamb.

The alebrije led her into the house, and the Rivera matriarch smiled happily as she saw her granddaughter on the sofa reading Shakespeare to the very attentive little wolf, in her lap.

She followed Luna upstairs, and into the large bathroom that the girls used to relax together on what they termed ‘spa days’. The boys occasionally did it too, but they thought girls didn’t know about that.

“Spa day?” Imelda asked the lamb.

Imelda interpreted the sound that came from the lamb as an enthusiastic affirmative.

~

“Will you please slow down?” Oscar pleaded as Pepita flew at a speed that was definitely intended to unsettle him, Felipe was behind him echoing the sentiment. Sophia was flying near them, somehow able to keep pace with the larger alebrije, and the brothers got the feeling that the owl was laughing at them. They also got the feeling that Pepita was too, but the flying cat did slow down a bit.

When they landed, they were in a clearing with a small lake. It was an area lit only by the sun. It would be dark in a few hours, then the clearing would be perfect for stargazing.

Until then the brothers decided to have a swim, and the two alebrijes watched them from the shore.

~

Rikki and Tikki, led their companions into town. Despite their reputation in the family as trouble makers, they were very good in public, so Rosita, and Julio let out a sigh of relief that there wasn’t going to be any crazy antics this time.

They ended up in a shop that specialized in items for alebrijes. Julio and Rosita followed the foxes into the store wondering what it was that the two of them wanted to get.

~

The deer led them inside to Héctor’s room, and gently nudged the guitar until Héctor picked it up.

Once they were outside again, Elias knelt in front of Héctor.

Héctor hesitated. “Are you sure?” he asked. It had taken a long time for Elias to be comfortable around him, and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift over a ride, when he could simply walk.

Elias nodded, and Héctor got on his back.

They walked in comfortable silence, until they reached an alley. It widened out to a small square with a little tree in the center. It wasn’t the tree that held his attention, however. The little square was full of alebrijes. There were small ones, like the rainbow colored bunny, and there were larger ones, like the horse, it was mostly blue with splotches of green, and red. In total there were probably fifteen or so excluding Elias.

All the chatter seemed to stop when they arrived, and Héctor got an unsettling feeling as they gazed at him. Their fear so almost tangible, and it became clear in a sudden rush of clarity. These were abused alebrije, ones that were hurt, and discarded. He had heard that they existed, but had never wished to believe it; he had wanted to believe that nobody could ever truly be unkind to the animals that guided them, but that illusion was shattered because the proof was before him.

Héctor stayed quiet as he got off of Elias’s back. He didn’t speak as he walked over to the tree, and made no sound as he settled there, pulling the guitar into his hands. He played a gentle melody, one with no words, something meant to be calming,

He would play gentle songs all day if it would bring these poor creatures any measure of comfort.

He knew firsthand the healing power of music when it was played, not for fame, but for those that you cared for, and who cared for you in return. Elias must have known that power as well, since he trusted Héctor enough to bring him here.

Héctor had no idea how long he sat there, playing gently melodies. Slowly the alebrijes approached where he was seated, but he drew no attention to his awareness of that fact, and simply played for them.

As he played, he found himself wanting to do more for these alebrijes, and a small smile came over him as he realized there was something that he could do. He knew some people that would truly enjoy having such colorful creatures around. It would take time, but he had more than enough of that, thanks to Coco and Miguel, and the resulting joy would certainly make it worth the effort.

Chapter Text

“Please, please, please, please plllleeaassse” Héctor begged.

Victoria rolled her eyes at her grandfather thinking about just how many sides of him she had seen. Sometimes, he was a mournful father, lamenting time lost, others he was was a playful musician, somehow pulling all who witnessed his playing into the music, as well as the performance, and sometimes, well sometimes, the man was practically an overgrown child.

“Fine,” she relented, so that he would stop begging. “If you can convince Abuela, I’ll watch with you too.”

“Thank you,” he said so happily that she almost regretted giving him such an impossible condition. With a rushed set of kisses to Victoria’s face, that she didn’t hate nearly as much as she pretended to, and she knew he was aware of it because of the ecstatic grin he sent her way, Héctor ran off to go find Imelda, and try to get her to agree.

He found her as he was running up the stairs, when he, literally, bumped into her since he couldn’t stop in time.

It was a good thing that he had no need to breathe, because he couldn’t for a few minutes. Imelda was beautiful, she always was, and always would be. At the moment, though, she was dressed casually, in a plain white top with a flowing purple skirt that had a little golden pattern sown at the hem of it, and her gray-streaked hair hung in a loose braid down her back.

“Careful,” she cautioned, steadying both of them.

Héctor swallowed before speaking. “Imelda,” he whispered with all the reverence of a man in the presence of his deity, because once he again he was struck dumb by her, and the fact that she had chosen him again.

Shaking that thought off, since he didn’t think that now was the best time to be catatonic with joy, he held up the movie in his hand.

“I want to watch this with Victoria, and she will only watch with me if you will watch it with us.”

She folded her arms, and looked at the film in his hands “Why would I want to watch that movie?” She asked before asking a more important one. “Why do you want to watch that movie?”

Héctor gazed at the ground, before looking up at her shyly, “It reminds me of our story. You’re so pretty, and-”

“You’re unconventionally handsome,” she finished not even daring to let him say ugly, because he had never been, even with his ill proportions, and gangly limbs, he had always just been Héctor, his body was perfect for the man that he was, and she wasn’t about to let him say otherwise. .

“-cursed,” and he paused, before adding, “Also they get a happy ending.”

Someday, Imelda knew, she would be able to deny him something when he was looking at her with that shy, hopeful, loving smile, that had begun to emerge recently. She would be able to put her boot down, and say ‘no’ , and walk away, That day was not today, and if she was honest, even when she would be able to find it in herself to deny him, she didn’t think she would want to, not after all that they had gone through to get to this point. She wasn’t going to let him know that though, because eventually he would be comfortable around her, and the rest of the family, and when they reached that point she knew that if she gave him an inch he would gladly take a mile, and she also knew that in her happiness she would gladly give that too, so best to nip it in the bud before it became a problem.
~

The whole family, aside from the alebrijes, who had decided upon having a sleepover in the backyard, was in the living room.

Victoria looked at her grandmother, clearly asking how Héctor had gotten her to agree to watching the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast.

Imelda gave a near silent sigh, and looked at Héctor, who was giddy as a child during a birthday party when the cake was finally being served, as the opening dialogue began to play, and then back at Victoria with a look that clearly said ‘did I even have a choice?’

Victoria gave a small grin. Now she knew who to turn to next time she needed to persuade her grandmother.

~

As Belle walked through the small town, Imelda had to admit there was some similarity between herself, and the character. Both of them didn’t quite fit into the boxes people wanted them to. Belle with her books, and progressive attitude, and Imelda with her fiery nature.

She even had to admit, there had been a few ‘Gastons’ in her time, wanting her for her looks, and intending to make her the mother of their children regardless of her own desires.

~

By the time Belle was rushing back to the castle to help her Beast, all of the Riveras, even the ones that had seen the movie before, were invested in the story, not only because it was a good one, but because each of them could see something of themselves in at least one of the characters in the movie. They were especially entertained when Chip was on-screen since the little boy reminded them so much of Miguel.

“Belle you came back,” the Beast was saying, clearly disbelieving that the girl had come back for him.

Imelda looked away from the overly sentimental love from the main characters. It practically beat you over the head with the fact that these two were truly deeply in love.

She saw Héctor crying at the scene being shown, and noticed the sadness on each of her family members. Gazing back at the screen, only to look away, she realized why, and was amazed that she had missed the parallels.

Well it seemed that Héctor was right after all. This was indeed quite similar to their story.

~

That night, Imelda gently pulled Héctor into her room, and with a gentle, yet euphoric smile, he followed her. They were sharing the bed more and more often, and she was hopeful that soon it would be every night. Four months ago, she would have assaulted anyone that even hinted that she might ever get back together with her estranged husband, now she just wanted him to stay with her for the rest of their afterlife, but it was his choice.

She had taken so much from him, that she wanted him to set the pace in this situation. She was hoping though, that by the time the next Day of the Dead happened, this would no longer be simply her room anymore, she couldn’t wait for the day when the room would become their room.

Once they were under the covers, he was practically asleep. He had a lot more energy than he’d had in the days after he had woken up, but he still tended to overexert himself, not terribly, but just so much so that when he wasn’t actively worrying about something, he tended to drift off quickly.

For a moment, she watched him sleep, soft snores, telling her that he was completely asleep already. It was nice having him here, knowing that he hadn’t slipped away forever, ad with that in mind she closed her eyes.

~

“Imelda, you’re here,” Héctor breathed.

Imelda found herself sobbing. “Of course I am. I couldn’t just leave you. Oh, if only I had realized what I had done sooner. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. If only I hadn’t ripped you out of our foto-”

“No, perhaps,” Héctor groaned as a particularly harsh spasm went through him. “Perhaps,” he continued in a voice far weaker than it was just seconds before, “It’s better this way.”

“No,” she said because it wasn’t true, it would never be true. “Don’t talk like that, I’m here now, Miguel will help Coco remember, just hold on, everything will be fine,” she tried to sound like she believed it, because she needed to. She had to be right, she couldn’t lose him again. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m just glad,” he panted, “that I got to see you, one last time,” and with that, he used his last ounce of strength to touch her face, and she held his hand there, until it crumbled into dust, leaving her with nothing, but a worn straw hat, and a broken heart.

~

Imelda snapped awake in her bed, fearing that her dream was her reality, and it was almost cemented as a fact when she looked next to her, and noticed the empty spot on the bed.

She scrambled off the bed, since her side was the side closest to the door, ready to search the whole Land of the Dead for Héctor if she needed to. He just couldn’t be gone.

Then she heard a faint snore, and scrambled back across the bed to find Héctor splayed out on the floor, sheet covering his whitening, finally mending, bones. He was wearing the new pajamas she had given him, they were plain, but with the way he had lit up when she had presented them to him, one would think she had gifted him with the deed to a mansion.

“Héctor?” she said softly relieved that he was still with her.

“Héctor!" she said sharply wanting to wake him, because… what if he wasn’t just asleep…

Before the panic could set in, the man snapped up like a child caught doing something wrong. He looked around, almost uncertain of where he was, before meeting her eyes. “I guess I moved too much,” he said with a sheepish laugh.

She smiled at him, gripping the blanket, and tugging it from his hands. With a quick motion, she held the ends of sheet, and flared the rest so that it was around him.

“Perhaps this will keep you from falling again,” she said.

"Like this? Héctor questioned with a laugh as he fell sideways, causing Imelda, whose hands were still clutching the sheet, to fall with him.

They lay there peacefully for a while before Héctor asked, “Is everything alright, mi amor?”

She nodded against him.

That let him know she was lying.

“Imelda, what’s wrong?”

She sighed knowing that he was entirely too stubborn when it came to things that had upset her, and while he probably wouldn’t keep asking, she knew his concerned gaze would be on her, until she let him know what it was that had caused her to be so upset. “I had a bad dream,” she confessed feeling extremely shy, because now that it was over, now that she knew it was just a dream, shouldn’t it have simply ceased to matter?.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She didn’t really, but she knew she had to. Héctor would worry until he managed to learn what her dream was about, and she didn’t want that. “It was about what happened… after we sent Miguel home, except… in the dream, in this nightmare…you disappeared.”

“Oh,” he said softly, in understanding.

“You have the same nightmare?” she asked.

He didn’t try to deny it. “It’s begun to taper off now,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against him.

He didn’t need to ask what she was apologizing for. He also knew that Imelda was stubborn, and no matter how little be blamed her for her actions she would blame herself for them no matter what he said.

“Will you promise me something?” she asked.

“If it is within my power,” he answered. Once upon a time, he would have simply replied ‘anything’ but if his afterlife had taught him one thing, it was that sometimes there were just promises that a person couldn’t keep no matter how hard, how long or how many times they tried, and he was going to avoid making promises he couldn’t keep from now on.

“If you leave to go somewhere, just let me know first. That’s all.”

Something was wrong with those words. No, it wasn’t the words, he realized, but the meaning behind them. Sure, she could mean leaving a note when he went out to visit his friends, but it also sounded like…

“Imelda, I love you, and as long as you want me, as long as the family will claim me, I will be here. You know that right?”

She didn’t answer.

“Imelda?”

“I’m not young,” she sighed at once scared, and relieved to be having this conversation. “The more you heal up, the more handsome you become, and I just worry that one day you’ll look up, and see a bitter old lady, where you want a sweet young woman.”

Héctor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and the indecision kept him from doing either, which really, he thought, was for the best.

Judging by how resigned she was, she thought that it was possible, no worse, she thought it was inevitable, that he would someday see her age as something he had to love her in spite of. She somehow thought that he was so relieved to have her in his life, well afterlife, again that he was just ignoring her age.

“Imelda, I have a confession to make.”

She stiffened, but didn’t move, she was a strong woman, she could take anything he had to say.

“I,” he began with an embarrassed laugh, “I used to, uh, you know,” he said waving his hand about in a shape that vaguely resembled a circle, “fantasize about how you would look when you got older,” he spit out in a rush.

“What!” she exclaimed. She thought she was ready for whatever he had to say, but she hadn’t anticipated that.

“You were just so beautiful, mi amor, and I knew that not even time could take that away from you. Sometimes, I used to imagine us as one of those sickeningly in love old couples, and we would stroll about the plaza hand in hand. You, still my beautiful, strong, powerful diosa, and me your skinny, withered, old esposo. I would be smiling though, because all the women would envy your looks, because you would still be as beautiful as any of those young women, and the men would be jealous because you had chosen me.”

Imelda laughed. She couldn’t help it.

“Ay,” he admonished playfully, “I’m being serious.”

“Of course you are,” she said through her laughter, because it stood to reason that something she saw as an obstacle would be something that he had not only considered, but actually desired.

“For the record, I was right, time didn’t rob you of your beauty,” he said pressing a kiss to her gray-streaked hair.

“I’m a skeleton,” she said almost shyly.

“I’ve seen pictures, and even now you’re still beautiful, Imelda, and I feel like the luckiest person in the world when I’m with you.”

Skeletons couldn’t blush, it was a physical impossibility, but she could swear she felt the phantom heat setting her face aflame. “We could still go,” she said softly, face buried in the soft cotton of his pajama shirt to hide the totally non-existent flush she could feel on her face .

“Go where?”

“To the plaza, to show off, if that is something that you still want to do.”

He held her tighter, “I still want to,” he said, and she didn’t even have to look because she could tell by his voice that he was smiling.

Chapter Text

t was a fine day in the workshop. Héctor was in the corner he had appropriated, reading a book, and the rest of them were working.

Something was different today though, Imelda couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and then she gazed at Héctor, and she knew.

The man was humming. It had been one of the things that she had missed about him, and it was upsetting to learn that he no longer did it unconsciously like he used to before. She had vivid memories of his humming, of it being a manifestatíon of the music in him. Music was in his heart, mind, and soul, it was as natural to him as breathing, and hearing bits of song hummed became something natural to her. She liked having that little window into his mind, since his humming was an indicator of his mood.

But today was different, he clearly wasn’t aware that he was humming, and for a moment it was like all the years of separation melted away. She knew the song that he was humming. La llorona. That was her favorite, and an indicator that, even though he was focused on the book, he was thinking about her. It was like a siren song, and it was so potent that she couldn’t resist even had she wanted to.

She sat aside the shoe she was working on, knowing that she would make mistakes in her current state of mind. Then she stood, walking, gliding, over to where Héctor sat. He looked up at her approach, and his humming halted.

“Imelda?” he asked.

She couldn’t speak. Language could not express what she felt, nor what she wanted, all she could do was explain by way of actions,

Imelda reached out her hand, and he willingly took it , setting aside the book without hesitation, for how could it, how could anything else ever hold his attention when he held Imelda’s undivided. She pulled him up effortlessly, and hugged him close as she began to sing.

His voice soon joined with hers, blending, and enhancing the song. Voices partnering perfectly, even after being apart for so long.

As they sang, they danced, falling into an easy rhythm, and it was so easy to recall doing the same when they were young, and ignorant of what was to come. He lead her around the room, and she kept her eyes on him, because she felt no need to look anywhere else, knowing that she could trust in his steps.

He twirled her, sometimes letting go of her completely, and she came back to him every time with no hesitation.

They danced, and sang, completely in a world that consisted of only them, and a song, until it felt natural to stop.

He held her close, and she held tightly to him.

It took a moment for the high to wear off, but she didn’t move as she asked, “They’re all staring aren’t they?”

Héctor shifted a little, removing his face from its position of resting on her hair, gazed around, and gave a bit of a chuckle. “They are.”

Imelda smiled. Seeing as it was completely quiet the family was likely in a state of shock. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure what had come over her, but she thought it was likely that same thing that drew Héctor to preform for them that day, a need to engage, and music became the medium through which to achieve it.

“Maybe we should run away together,” Héctor suggested.

“Héctor,” Imelda began to scold him.

He boldly took her hand, and began tugging her to the door of the workshop.

She made token protests, but Héctor’s hold on her was so loose that it was clearly up to her if she wanted to follow him or not.

She could hear her family laughing, as they watched them go, and Imelda stopped. Héctor did as well, already looking a bit scared that he had been too bold. She ran her fingers over his soothingly to absolve him of the notion.

Then she turned to her, still laughing, family. “If you have time to laugh, you’ve got time to work. If the orders aren’t done by the time I get back, there will be consequences.” With that said, she began to tug Héctor via their connected hands. “Let’s go, mi amor.”

Héctor smiled like a man who had won the lottery, and followed his wife.

They ended up in a plaza, browsing wares, thankfully it wasn’t too crowded so it was rather unlikely that they would be accosted, and even more unlikely because Imelda was well known for her shoe-wielding prowess.

“Does this count as a date?” Héctor asked.

“I suppose it does,” she agreed easily.

“Thank you for giving us another chance,” he said softly.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” she returned just as gently.

~

From across the plaza a person watches the pair. Anger, and jealousy combine creating a feeling that causes the person to growl.

How dare he be happy!

How dare they act as though nothing was wrong.

How dare they steal everything.

They would pay, he would pay for what he had done.

Chapter Text

A few nights later, a soft knock woke Héctor, and Marco. Héctor looked at the clock to his right, and groaned, who in the world was knocking on his door at five in the morning?

Another knock, got him out of his bed, and he opened his door coming face to face or skull to skull as it were, with Oscar and Felipe.

They were both dressed in casual clothes, and once the door was open, the two of them, and their little fox alebrijes, slipped into the room.

“Wha-” Héctor started.

“We’re sneaking out-”

“-and we want you to come with us.”

“Don’t worry-”

“-we already left a note.”

They looked so enthusiastic , especially for two people up so very early, that Héctor just couldn’t say no. “Let me get dressed,” he said.

“Hurry,” Oscar said.

Five minutes later, they were leaving through the back gate, and Héctor could swear that he saw Pepita roll her eyes at them as they left. Likely, it had something to do with the absurd tiptoeing that the twins were doing. Héctor just waved at the alebrije, too tired to join in the twins antics.

A few minutes into walking, Héctor asked, “Is someone going to tell me where we’re going?”

It came as no surprise when they both looked at him with identical smirks. Of course they wouldn’t tell him. He sulked a little, because they woke him up super early, dragged him out of his nice comfy bed, and wouldn’t even give them a hint as to where they were going. It also didn’t help that Rikki, and Tikki, were laughing at him as well.

Marco gave a tired yip, and Héctor quickly pulled Marco from his shoulder, and held him in his hands. The little alebrije had been losing his grip on Héctor since he was so tired, and Héctor didn’t want him to fall. He was a little envious of his alebrije though, since he wished someone would carry him wherever they were going so that he could get a little more rest too.

His wish was soon realized. Somehow he found himself dozing as he was walking, and in a show of brotherly sympathy, Oscar took Marco off his hands, and Felipe lifted him with ease.

If Héctor wasn't so tired he would have struggled against the hold in embarrassment. As it was, however, he wad just grateful that he was allowed a little more sleep before they got wherever they were going.

~

Imelda looked in Héctor’s room, only to find him gone. The sight didn’t incite the same panic it used too, but it still made her uncomfortable seeing as Héctor, if left to his own devices, tended to be a late riser.

It was Victoria’s turn to start breakfast, and the others were making their way downstairs as Imelda was. The woman frowned, when she saw a note with her name on it, at the table. Opening it she saw Oscar’s handwriting.

‘Lovely sister,
We have kidnapped Héctor for the duration of the day.
Love Oscar, and Felipe’

Imelda growled, as she read the note again, How dare they take Héctor? Then as though that wasn’t bad enough, they hadn’t even said where they were taking him. Also, how dare they skip out on work to kidnap Héctor!

Héctor had a soft spot for the twins, well, now he had soft spots for everyone in the family, because he really was too sweet, and had more love to give than he knew what to do with, and because of that he couldn’t help himself, and how could she ever have believed he had abandoned her and Coco when he had always been that way… she shook her head, those were not the thoughts that she needed to think right now. Anyway, she had a lot of reasons that she wouldn’t come down to hard on him, but her brothers…

“What is is Abuela?” Victoria asked as she watched Imelda’s face go through a series of emotions.

“I’m going to kill them!”

The others looked at her in surprise, and none of them dared point out the futility of such a statement in a place where everyone well, aside from cursed individuals, was already dead.

“What did the note say? Are the twins and Héctor going somewhere inappropriate?” Rosita asked.

“No, Héctor is innocent in this.The twins are the guilty ones, and they are getting a load of extra chores to do when they get back,” she growled.

The others looked away to hide their smiles, lest she decide to punish them as well. The twins really were in for it, that was a given, but the thing that had them smiling was that they were seeing a lot of evidence of how much love there was between Imelda and Héctor.

The first few months, the change was a bit subtle, but after the date, well they could see it far more clearly. She smiled more, laughed more, was so playful at times, and she sang. It wasn’t as though she was a totally different person, but more like they were seeing all of her, for the first time. She was still as strict as ever, and strong-willed, as was in her nature, but there was a softness now too, some of that bitterness had begun to fade, and though it was clear she still felt really guilty about the events of the past, it was equally clear that she was looking forward to each day a lot more than she had been in all the time they had known her.

Héctor was truly perfect for her, he softened her. They hadn’t known Héctor as long, but it was clear that Imelda made him so happy that he was practically floating most of the time. He seemed to live off of her happiness, and the joy they could feel radiating off of him when he got her to smile, made them happy as well.

~

Oscar shivered, and Felipe did the same.

“She found the note,” Oscar said to his brother.

“We’re in trouble,” Felipe agreed.

“Worth it,” the said together, as Héctor laughed as the car zipped around the track.

The twins had taken him to a warehouse. It was a large structure, bigger than some family houses, and they kept it under lock, and key.

The twins were inventors, and while some of their inventions concerned shoes, others were different.

When Coco had been young, they had babysit her quite a bit. They loved to draw, and so did she. Together the three of them would come up with wonderful ideas, and they had even invented an amusement park. They called it Coco Land, but Coco, who had been six at the time, called it Rivera World, since she thought it belonged to all of them. It never amounted to more than some pictures, and some small models, at least until the twins died.

Once they had come to the Land of the Dead, they had a lot more time, and materials to use. Over fifty years with more free time than they knew what to do with, even with the workload at the zapatería, had allowed them the time and space to build everything they had imagined and more.

“That was amazing,” Héctor said with a laugh as he came off of a ride they had affectionately named the Coco Coaster.

“The alebrijes seem to be having fun too,” Felipe noted, as he gazed over at the three of them riding on a carousal. Marco was seated on a horse that had been painted as though it were a skeleton, and the foxes, were seated together on a deer that resembled Elias.

“You two built this whole place?” Héctor asked. When they had arrived, he had been so exited that questions had to wait until after he tried a few of the rides.

They nodded. “It took a long time, but we just recently finished.” Oscar said.

“It seemed like it was meant for you to be the first of the family to see it, since we so recently finished it. So what do you think of this place?” Felipe added.

“I really like it here, it’s lots of fun, and would be the perfect place for a family outing, but…”

“What is it?” the twins asked together.

“Do you think that… we could wait for Coco? She doesn’t have long left, and I think it would be really fun to come to this place with everyone.”

The twins looked at each other quickly, before smiling and nodding at Héctor.

~

“On the scale of 1 to 10, how much trouble are we in?” Oscar asked Victoria when they got home. It was far later than they thought when they left the warehouse, and they knew they were in trouble.

“Twenty,” Victoria answered.

Héctor bit his lip to contain his laughter. There were very few things that were the same as he remembered from when he was alive. Apparently, one of the things that hadn’t changed was that the twins tended to split punishments in this way. They would scale things by ten, and split it in half, but apparently they weren’t going to have much luck with that since each of them were in level ten trouble.

Héctor sobered up when he realized he might be in trouble too. It was suddenly a little hard to breathe, as he considered the what-if’s and the maybes. It didn’t matter that he knew the thought were irrational, they made him panic.

Before he could ask Victoria how much trouble he was in, Imelda was descending the stairs, regal as a queen, and as threatening as an executioner. It was probably for the best he hadn't been able to ask. If he had opened his mouth he wasn't sure if words would have come out. He could hear the phantom thumping of his heart and it took all his control not to fall apart right there. He tried to calm himself, to hide the fact that he was in the midst of a panic attack, but judging by Imelda’s gaze she noticed.

“Héctor, go to the room, and wait for me,” she instructed softly. Héctor nodded, and quickly made his way up the stairs.

Once Héctor was gone, the twins stood there, with their sister in front of them, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. They might have the height advantage, but she seemed about ten feet tall at the moment.

“Hermana,” Felipe started, “let’s be reasonable about this.”

“You left a little note, didn’t come home until nine at night, and you want me to be reasonable!” she growled.

Well when she put it like that it did sound pretty bad.

Twin pairs of puppy dog eyes gazed at Imelda pleadingly. “Hermana,” they whined, “we just wanted a turn to have a day with Héctor.”

While Imelda had been immune to their puppy dog eyes since they were five, she had a little sympathy for the fact that they had just wanted a day out with Héctor, however that didn’t mean they were getting punished to a lesser extent.

She plucked a list out of her apron, it was filled with her writing. Their eyes went wide when they saw what was on the list.

“You have a week,” she said a little too sweetly, as she went up the stairs.

Oscar turned to Felipe. “Worth it,” they said again.

Victoria just rolled her eyes at all the drama, and sighed, idly thinking how Miguel had been doomed from the start, since the boy had obviously inherited the reckless from more than one of his ancestors, before she simply went back to reading her book.

Chapter Text

Imelda entered her room to find Héctor in the center of her bed, petting Marco with trembling hands. He didn’t look up as she entered, and her eyes widened with shock as she realized that he was afraid. Not of her, she knew, because it was a far too late for that, but of what she would do. This was the first time since he had been accepted into the family, that he had done something that he deemed wrong. Sure he had made a few mistakes, but nothing that truly upset anyone.

“Héctor,” she said, it physically pained her to see him flinch at the sound of her voice. She walked over to the bed, and sat down facing him. She reached for his face with her hands, knowing it was the only way that she was going to get him to look at her at that moment.

“I’m not mad at you,” she assured him. “I wasn’t even that mad at the twins, but if I let them off easy they would take advantage.”

“Promise?” he whispered.

Imelda would have promised him anything that it was possible for her to, at that moment, no matter how ridiculous, so it was easy for her to simply tell him a truth. “I promise.”

His trembling gradually stopped, as he found the honesty that he was looking for telling him that he wasn’t in trouble with her, but she could tell that there was still something on his mind.

“Héctor what’s the matter?” she asked gently.

“It’s silly,” he answered, looking down, and watching his fingers displace Marco’s fur, as he pet the wolf, and letting himself be distracted by the clash of his slightly yellowed bones on the gray fur of his alebrije.

“If it is bothering you, it’s not silly,” she assured him.

He sighed. “The twins took me somewhere special today; somewhere fun.”

Imelda waited for a moment, but it didn't seem like he was going to elaborate on the thought without prompting.“Did something happen?” She asked with a puzzled frown.

“No, nothing bad happened, I actually had a lot of fun, it just… well it seemed like they were trying to apologize without saying it, and there seems to be a lot of that going around lately. I know it’s stupid. I’m where I wanted to be for decades, and I should be happy, I mean, I am happy, I really am, but sometimes I… I think that everything that happened since that day, is some kind of cosmic joke, and the punchline is right around the corner.”

Imelda paused to take in his words, taking a few moments to consider them, and what they seemed to break down to mean. What she realized was something heartbreakingly simple “You don’t trust us,” she said finally.

He stopped breathing, which admittedly was still worrying even if they really didn’t need to breathe, and he just looked at her with a mixture of shock, and despair. He seemed like he was about to deny her statement or change the topic of the discussion altogether.

“No, listen Héctor, that is the problem, and that isn’t your fault, it’s mine. The twins, and I, you knew in life, time has changed us, but you can still read us fairly well, since we all still have habits from back then, the others aren’t like that for you, you never knew them, so you have nothing to which to compare their actions. That can easily muddle the line between kindness and pity.”

He seemed to visibly deflate at her words. “I know up here,” he said pointing at his head with one finger, “why things were the way they were, and how things are the way that they are now, but knowing that is different from how it feels. Everything has just been so sudden, and it’s just everything I wanted, so it’s too good to be true.” he admitted.

She understood. More than ninety years she had denied him in one way or another, that was done, and couldn’t be erased. His family, were practically strangers to him. Less than six months had passed since he had been allowed into the family home, that wasn’t even a month for every decade he had been denied the comfort of his family due to her stubbornness. Time was the only way to truly fix the situation, but she wished there was another way.

“Héctor, I understand. You lived all these years without this family, and I know you don’t like me to, but I want to apologize for that. I was so foolishly stubborn, and so stupidly convinced of your wrongdoing that I never spoke to you, I created this rift, and the longer I went without you, the more I tried not to care. I said the words when I sang on stage that day, 'no dejaré de quererte', I meant them. I never stopped, and that’s what made me so angry. I prided myself on sticking to my choices, and this was one that I couldn’t abide by. That was my reasoning, and it will never excuse what I have done, but I can’t do anything to change what was, what I can do is control my actions from now on, and try to make sure I never do anything that harmful, ever again,” she said. They sat in silence for a moment, before she spoke again.

“I have no right to ask this of you, but will you talk to the others about this?”

“I don’t want hurt them,” he whispered.

“I know, but I think it will help. I think if you talk to them, either one on one or all together, it will let you see that having you here was something they agreed to because they wanted to, and not because it was something that they were forced to accept. You don’t have to do it right away, but promise that you will at least think about it.”

“I will.”

~

He thought about it, a lot, he just… couldn’t find it in himself to bring it up with anyone. For years, outside of his attempts to cross over the marigold bridge, and the consequent arrests resulting from it, he had spent his afterlife staying out of trouble, and presenting as a carefree trickster of sorts, it was his default setting, and it was hard to go against that.

They were happy, he was happy, and he didn’t want to ruin any of that with his stupid insecurities. Imelda seemed to disapprove, if the few glances she gave him from time to time were anything to go on, but in this, she didn’t intervene.

So of course, a week later, after a he had just returned from a day out in Shantytown, he went into his room to find a four letters in front of the same number of bags on his bed. The first had the pretty, slightly slanted, writing of Victoria.

Abuelo,
It has come to my attention, that our past relationship with you or lack thereof, has proved to be a hindrance in cultivating our new familial relationship. I wish you to know that I will endeavor to do whatever I am able to do so that we may repair that which has been broken.
Your granddaughter,
Victoria

Héctor debated the merits of looking in the bag, versus reading the next letter, and decided that he would do it in pairs. Reading the letters, and checking the bag given by each person.

In the bag from Victoria, was a book. It was old, and clearly well-loved, and read many times. He frown wondering why she had given him such a prized possession of hers, and then it came to him. She was trusting him with something valuable to her, trying to show him how much she was willing to invest in the relationship that they would have in the future.

His breath hitched at the realization, and he decided to move on to the next set, lest he get overwhelmed.

In the next letter he noticed two slightly different sets of writing.

Hermano,
It took us a few days to figure out what was wrong, and why you were acting the way you were around us all, we apologize for that, however we would like to blame Imelda a little since she wouldn’t tell us.
We understand that you didn’t want to talk about this, and we are sorry that we discussed it with the rest of the family against your wishes, but we knew, from experience, that you would never talk to us on your own about this, you have always been hesitant to seek help when you feel the cause is a trivial matter, and we just want things to get better.
We want to get better as a family.
We know the past won’t disappear in a day or month or year, but at the same time, we have to start somewhere, apologize for what has been, and try for a better future. We were wrong, the others never knew you, so they had no reason to believe anything other than what they had been told. We knew you, we should have listened to you, and if you do not wish to see us as your brothers because of this mistake, we ask that you at least consider us your friends.
We are sorry, for everything we did that we shouldn’t have, and for those things that we should have done, but didn’t. We hope that you will someday forgive us for what we have done.
Signed,
Felipe y Oscar

In the bag behind that letter was a blanket. Héctor recognized it from when he was alive. Imelda and the twins had lost their parents when they were quite young, and Imelda had long since been a parental figure for her brothers. One of the first things she made them, was a blanket that was big enough for both of them well into adulthood. It was a multitude of colors, because she had used all the spare material that she could scrounge up, but it was one of the twins most treasured possessions.

This hit Héctor hard as well, and he moved to the next bag and letter, hoping that this next set might provoke less emotion, and give him a distraction that would last long enough to gather himself.

Of course, he was wrong, the next one just served to unbalanced him even further. It was written in a flowery script that he knew from a few writing samples belonged to Rosita.

Papá Héctor,
When the twins told us what they thought was bothering you, I knew that they were right, because in retrospect it was quite clear. I was very upset though. They think I have no cause to feel guilty, but I do. I could have reached out to you. Coco told me about you, what she could remember of you, and I just…
I’m so sorry. I thought things were advancing too fast, but I didn’t want to question it, I thought that we could just leave the past in the past, and start anew. I know that was foolish, and naive, but that’s what I thought.
You have all the reason in the world not to trust us, we didn’t believe in you, you needed us, and we left you alone and forgotten. I’ll do whatever I can to mend this rift, and to gain your trust. We have a long road ahead of us, but I know with love we can make it through, and emerge as an even more tightly bonded family.
Love,
Rosita

In the bag behind that heart wrenching group of words was a stuffed animal, it took him a moment to recognize the little bear as one that he had made for Coco. In the bag with the bear was a picture. A young Coco, maybe in her late teens, stood next to a young girl, who when he looked closer, was identifiable as Rosita. The bear was held between them.

Coco must have given it to Rosita as a present, and a sign of their sisterhood. Héctor smiled, it was good to know that Coco had made such a wonderful friend.

Even through his smile though, he couldn’t help the building tidal wave of emotion, because while he had known that Coco had clung to his memory, he hadn’t known that she had managed to keep anything that he had made or sent to her. Imelda’s purge of his memory was well known to him, and the knowledge that his daughter had managed to save even one thing was enough to break the dam that had kept his tears at bay.

He wiped at them frantically, knowing that there was another letter to go, and he wouldn’t do it the dishonor of going unread. With shaking fingers, he grasped the last one, careful not to let harm come to it, even with his unsteadiness, and was introduced to Julio’s writing.

Papá Héctor,
I have never been good with writing letters, but I needed to write this one. The others let it be known what they were doing, and I felt that I needed to do this as well.
I said before I knew only of your abandonment, and of Coco’s feelings, and that was the truth. What I didn’t say was that I know what it is to be separated from one’s daughter, and so I share the blame of not reaching out to you. I am deeply ashamed that I did not contact you in anyway once I had died. I should have spoke to you, not only to get your version of events, but because my wife loved you, I was just to timid to do it.
There is nothing I can do to change that. What I can do is focus on the here and now. All I can offer are apologies, and promises, but if you accept either I will be grateful. I hope that our mistakes have not ruined any chance we have of being your family in a way that is more than just on paper .
Your son,
Julio

Opening the final bag revealed a box, and inside it was a plain silver ring, and a little note.

This is one of my most treasured items. Coco gave it to me a few years after we had met, and I didn’t learn until later, from Rosita, that Coco had intended it as a promise ring. She had given it to me in an effort to get me over my nerves, and propose to her. It was something she never stopped teasing me about.

Héctor carefully put all the things away in an empty drawer, making sure not to damage the items or the notes since they were all his treasures, each of them more precious to him than he would ever be able to say, then he sat on his bed, trying to breathe deeply so that he could avoid another round of tears.

They were trusting him, letting him hold on to things that were so very important, and if they wouldn’t be insulted, he would have given everything back, because they shouldn’t have had to do this. They didn’t need to work for his trust, he didn't deserve that, because in the end he knew that somehow he would just end up disappointing them or hurting them. Already, he had broken the promise he had made such a short while ago. He was upset, to the point where the others had taken action, without him going to any of them to talk the problem out. Perhaps he really was nothing but a curse.

~

Downstairs Marco was resting on Victoria’s lap, enjoying the story she was reading to him before dinner. She noted the pup was a little fidgety, but when she asked if he was bored or wanted to be let down, he refused to move, so she just ignored it.

Then he turned invisible.

She could still feel his weight on her lap. Her fingers still were in contact with his fur, the pup was simply not able to be seen.

She carelessly sat aside her book, took hold of Marco, wanting to be sure he would be safe, and then, quickly headed up the stairs. The others, worried by her sudden departure followed her.

She stopped at Héctor’s door. “Abuelo?” She asked her voice urgent.

The others looked at her, and she held up the still invisible wolf. “Marco suddenly became invisible,” she said quickly, and she saw understanding pass over all of them. If something funny was going on with Marco, it more than likely had something to do with Héctor.

Worried by the lack of response, Victoria knocked again, before simply opening the door. At first she couldn’t see him, then she noted the lumpiness under the blanket on the bed.

The others shuffled in, all of them were too worried to stay away even though it was a tight fit having all of them in the room at the same time. They would leave if he were to ask it of them, it was his right, and they would respect that, but until then, until he sent them away, they were going to be here.

“Abuelo,” Victoria said again coming a little closer to the bed.

The figure beneath the blanket began to shiver, and all of them could hear the slight whimper of a person holding back tears.

“Héctor,” Imelda said gently, remembering how he had responded to her when he had been ill, “can you tell us what has you so upset?”

The sound of choked back tears became louder, before going nearly silent again. Then in a small nearly inaudible voice, Imelda’s question was answered with one, barely audible, word. “Scared.”

It was a start, and fear did explain Marco’s state, but it also raised a lot of questions, however there were only two that really needed to be answered. One, what had scared Héctor so badly, that he was reduced to shivering under a blanket, struggling against tears? The second being, did they need to go and make someone pay for his current state?

Imelda came closer, and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Héctor can you explain a little more, just a little, we just need to understand.”

They waited, and the more time that passed, the more they were certain that he wasn't going to answer the question. Then he spoke.

“I…ruin…everything. I…lose…every…thing.”

The pain in the room was nearly tangible, as they were all hit with his words. Nobody knew what to say, because as much as they wanted to reassure him, any words they might have offered would have been empty. None of them knew what he had gone through for all those years, they didn’t know the friends he had lost or the bridges he had burned or how many people had hurt him.

“Enough of this!” Imelda said strongly, making everyone in the room jump. She yanked the cover off her husband and tossed it aside, and then proceeded to yank him up with the same ferocity, pulling him into her arms.

Héctor looked at her, eyes wide with shock, as did all the other members of the family.

She paid them no mind, and walked down to the dining room, at a steady pace. “You know we have breakfast, and dinner together, everyday, unless something happens to prevent that, so for causing so much of a delay, you get no dessert.” She declared.

“Imelda,” Héctor whined voice rough with his unshed tears, and she was pleased to note that he was distracted enough by her actions that his depressed state was temporarily aleviated.

“No, I will not relent in this, Héctor,” she decreed, keeping the silliness going as she placed him gently on his chair at the table. She put her hands on her hips before speaking again.“If you argue with me, I’ll let Pepita chew on your bones,” she threatened.

It was as empty a threat as could be, and everyone knew it. Months ago, such a threat would have caused Héctor to scurry off quicker than a startled bunny, because he had been terrified of the large alebrije, but since that night where the big cat had guided him back home, and let him nap against her, the only fear he had was of upsetting her. So now instead of running, he only whined, “Imelda,” once more, like a petulant child told that he couldn’t stay up past his bedtime, because as many would agree, dessert was the most important part of a meal.

Imelda made good on her threat of no dessert for Héctor, but purposely ignored when the others slipped him small pieces of their own sweets. Héctor takes the offerings from all of them like a baby bird, and offered small smiles every time someone gave him something.

After they were all finished eating, Imelda plucked him up again, and strode over to the couch. She sat him down, and claimed the spot right next to him.

“I will not make you empty promises, I never have, and I won’t start now. You do not ruin everything. Everyone makes mistakes, and if we are comparing, I think I have ruined more than you have. No arguing,” she chided when he opened his mouth, and he snapped it shut. “As for losing everything, that might have been something true of your past, but hopefully not of the future. We want you here, Héctor, and I know you don’t believe it yet, but I want to believe that someday you will.”

Héctor looked around the room, shyly seeking confirmation, that yes he was in fact wanted. The others gave him that by way of smiles, and nods.

“Village idiot, this one, eh Felipe,” Oscar couldn’t help teasing.

“Just what I was about say,” Felipe said with a mock expression of surprise on his face.

Héctor gave a small, surprised laugh, at their silliness. “No that was you two,” he countered.

“Us,” they both uttered with an air of shock, blinking rapidly like they couldn’t believe his words.

Héctor nodded somberly, as though it gave him no joy to tell them this hard truth. “You two constantly caused trouble.”

“We caused trouble! What do you call what you were doing?”

“I kept life entertaining,” Héctor answered the twins, as though it was the most obvious thing since water being wet, “isn’t that right, mi amor,” he said turning slightly to look at Imelda.

“I thought all three of you were the village idiots,” she said.

Three sets of wounded, positively scandalized, puppy dog eyes, gazed at her.

She rolled her eyes at their antics, but she couldn’t hide that she was happy that Héctor was joking around. She knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time that he broke down over this, but she was hopeful that next time, he would talk to them before it got to this point. Even if he didn’t though, they were going to be here for him because that was what a family did.

Chapter Text

“SURPRISE!”

Héctor was frozen, unable to so much as twitch. The backyard was decorated with streamers, balloons, and paper lanterns. Everyone was there, the human Riveras, and the alebrijes. There were two large tables, one filled with food, all his favorites were there, Héctor noted, and other other stacked high with presents wrapped in shining paper, with fluffy bows atop them.

Héctor was, quite simply, speechless.

Imelda walked over to him, she was wearing a lavender dress that was in a similar style to her other casual dresses, but this one had a lot more detail on it, and Héctor had never seen it before, so chances were that it was a recent purchase.

Héctor swallowed, and found his voice. “What is- what are we-?” he asked hoping she would understand his question despite his inability to ask said question in a completely formed sentence.

“We missed your birthday last year, with everything that’s been happening, and Christmas was a rather lackluster event, so we thought we would have a party today. A six months anniversary of you rejoining the family, party. We told a few people about it, and they sent over a few gifts.” She explained gesturing at the table with the stacked packages.

Héctor was very happy skeletons didn’t need to breathe because, once again, in what was becoming far too often an occurrence, he was having a hard time managing the basic function. Tears were now clouding his vision, moments away from cascading down his face, and it was a minor miracle that he hadn’t fallen to the ground in a sobbing mess of long limbs.

Imelda might think Christmas had been lackluster, but it had been the best he had, had in quite some time, and his birthday had ceased to matter decades ago. But the fact they were making up for it, the fact they had come up with something to celebrate just to have an excuse to throw a party for him, that meant so much more than they could ever know. He wished he could say that, could express just how much it meant to him, but he had no way to do that.

A bright light filled the backyard, and when it faded, Marco was in his larger form again. There was gasps from all of them, aside from Victoria and Rosita, who had seen the transformation before, and Héctor, but even those unsurprised at the transformed alebrije, were staring.

Marco was colored differently this time. His fur was a creamy white, his paws, tail and ears were tipped in a yellow that bordered on gold, and his eyes were a beautiful silver. Marco trotted over to Héctor wrapping around the skeleton, like a living, weighted blanket, and hiding him from view.

He snuggled into the fur of his alebrije, “Lo siento,” he murmured.

He got the impression that the rumbling growl he felt around him probably translated to something along the lines of, ’my silly little human.’

After a few moments, he pulled away, he had the feeling, that since he had calmed a little Marco was able to go back to his normal size, but he also could feel that the alebrije was not quite ready to. “Go play,” he said softly.

A silver eye looked at him quizzically.

“I can sense that you want to, especially now that you would be on equal footing with Pepita, so go have some fun.”

Marco gave a happy yip, that was really cute considering it sounded like he normally did, and he was currently in a form far larger.

The wolf, gently pulled away, and proceeded to run over, and tackle Pepita. They were careful though, toppling over the empty space in the yard so as not to ruin the anything that had been set up for the party.

The others laughed, but soon their attention was on a sheepish Héctor.

He gave a guilty laugh, and held one of his arms with the other. “So I might have been so overwhelmed that Marco was affected by it,” he said stating the obvious on the off chance that someone didn’t understand what had happened.

When Héctor saw that the others had taken his words in a way he hadn’t meant for them to, he hurried to explain further. “Its just been a long time since something like this was done for me, and, well, it makes me happy to know that you all think about me, and want to do nice things for me, and that you l- care about me.” Héctor knew he looked like a mess, he was just barely able to stop himself from outright sobbing, as he spoke and-

“Hermano, you can use the word ‘love’,” Oscar said gently.

Of course he would say that.

“Because that’s how we feel about you,” Felipe added with a smile.

Why not add that? It was perfectly logical. A fitting contribution to the words that had been spoken.

“Abuelo, they’re right,” Victoria chimed in.

Yup, that needed to be said too. There was no reason not to voice it, nope no reason at all. Not. To.Voice. It.

“Papá Héctor-” Rosita started.

She was interrupted by a muffled sob.

He couldn’t take it anymore, his control over the waterworks had been flimsy at best, since they had surprised him, and then they had to go, and say all that heartwarming stuff didn’t they? He didn’t even have a heart to be warmed anymore! Dios, it had been a miracle he had held out as long as he did.

He felt arms wrap around him, and he clung to her, because Imelda was always the strong one, and he was hoping he could pull some of that strength from her embrace, and into himself.

“Shhh,” she said, trying to sooth him, but he just couldn’t stop crying, he was trying really hard, he really was, but he couldn’t.

She pulled back a little, pulled his head up, and leaned in for a kiss. The shock was enough to halt his tears for a moment. “There,” she said a bit smugly. “Now don’t you want to see what presents you got?” she asked trying to distract him.

He nodded, swallowing hard to stop the second wave of waterworks that he could feel bubbling up.

She pulled away, grabbing his hand, and leading him to the table. Héctor kept his head down, not looking at anyone, because if he saw a sympathetic or loving expression or any mixture of the sort, he’d be crying all night, and would probably end up running away, and creating a new river for the Land of the Dead wherever he ended up..

She pulled a package off the pile, and handed to him. He held it as though he had no idea what to do with it.

“Héctor?”

Héctor shook himself. “I’m alright,” he said with an unconvincing smile. He was perfectly fine, really he was, he was just a blubbering mess of a man, nothing to see here, nope.

He opened the present, after gazing at the tag, and learning that it was from Rosita. Inside was a pair of white pajamas with little music notes printed on them. He couldn’t help smiling.

“Gracias mija,” he said as he looked at the clothing.

“Ours next,” Oscar and Felipe called, reaching out, and pushing a large box at him.

Héctor grabbed a rectangle present from the table. A glance at the tag showed it was from Julio, and then he laughed as the twins pouted.

Julio’s gift to him was a photo album. It had lots of pictures of the Land of the Dead Riveras, and the Living ones. The second half of the book was blank so that he could add more photos.

He pulled Julio in for a brief hug, and then proceeded to open the gift that the twins had gotten for him, only to slam the lid back on it.

He glared at the brothers.

“Don’t you like it?” the asked together, voices blending, and oozing complete and utter innocence.

“How?” he squeaked, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the other family members.

“We promised never to tell,” Oscar said.

“Tell me,” he growled playfully as he approached the twins.

“No can do, hermano,” Felipe answered as he and Oscar backed away.

“Well, in that case,” Héctor said with an air of resignation. “Guys, I need you to help me out.”

The twins turned to see all the alebrijes had gathered. Even their foxes were against them.

While they were distracted by the alebrijes, Héctor leapt at them, tackling them to the ground. “Snuggle pile everyone!” he called out.

Taking advantage of Héctor being distracted with the twins, and his revenge, the other Riveras looked into the box. Inside was a large stuffed rabbit, it was definitely a custom order, because no retailer would let something like it be sold otherwise. The smile was lopsided, and the eyes were two different sizes, and colors. The thing was lopsided too, all it limbs slightly different lengths, and the poor thing was clearly overstuffed.

“I can’t believe they remembered that,” Imelda said with a laugh.

The rest of the family looked at her expectantly.

“When Coco was born, Héctor made her a few stuffed toys, he was good at it after a few tries, but,” she laughed, “he tried to make a bunny, and well there was one that came out exactly like this one. He called it Señor Fluffy McFluffyton Rivera. I think he just kept it because I commented on how bad it was. The man had the nerve to sleep with the thing. I tried to get rid of it one day, but he had this look of utter betrayal on his face, and I just couldn’t.”
.
“I’m glad he managed to get through being so overwhelmed,” Victoria commented as she watched the twins pin her abuelo, proceed to tickle him, which made the man laugh as he struggled against the duo currently tag teaming against him. “Does he really believe we don’t love him?” she asked softly, disbelief, and sadness clear in her tone.

“These things take time, mija.” Julio said. “It’s only been six months, so everything must still be fairly new to him.”

A wave of regret went over them.

“Almost a century, I spent hating him for a misunderstanding that could have been solved in minutes, if I had just listened. I forced all of you to reject him, and to reject music altogether. I don’t think there is anything I can do to make up for that mistake, but I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying. It’s all I can do.” Imelda confessed. It felt inadequate, ridiculously so, but it was all that she could do, and she would.

Nobody knew what to say to that.

Héctor glanced over, and saw the somber expressions of the others. A few glances, and whispers, and a plan was put into action.

Soon all the Rivera were laughing, it was impossible not to when you were being snuggled by a large group of fluffy, and playful alebrijes.

Chapter Text

Héctor woke with his face buried in Señor Fluffy McFluffyton Rivera the Second. Despite his reaction when he had opened the gift at the party, a month and a half ago, he loved the thing, Imelda made him keep it in his room though, only letting him bring it into bed with them when he had a particularly hard day.

He stretched, shaking off the sleepiness that clung to him, and got up. “Ready?” he called to Marco, and the alebrije yipped.

The little wolf had perfected the art of climbing him, so Héctor didn’t even have to bend down for Marco to reach his shoulder.

Donning his hat, and grabbing his guitar, Héctor walked down the stairs. It was Victoria’s day off, and she was there reading on the sofa.

“Mija,” Héctor called out to her, “would you mind letting the family know I went to visit my friends?”

“I’ll tell them. What time will you be back?” she asked.

“It’s two now, so about seven-thirty, maybe eight. No later than nine.”

Victoria nodded. “Have fun, but-”

“I know, no tequila, I haven’t forgotten,” he said with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She might have rolled her eyes, but since she never really complained he knew that she didn’t have a problem with the way he showed affection to her.

~

The trip to Shantytown went quickly, Marco yipped excitedly the closer they got. His friends loved the little wolf, and Marco loved the attention they gave him.

The moment they set foot in the area, Marco was off like a shot. “Look it’s Marco,” someone called out.

“Cousin Héctor!” he was greeted excitedly, by a newer member of the community.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anyone would be lost this evening, though you never could tell, but he still played all their old favorites, and danced with them. The alebrijes that Elias had introduced him to were scattered about town, and he smiled knowing that they brought as much comfort to the residents, as the residents brought to them. The months of effort were well worth this result.

Before he knew it, hours had passed, and it was starting to get dark. He said his goodbyes, declined an offered drink, not wanting to tempt fate, because somehow Imelda would know.

The walk home was peaceful. The city seemed to come alive at night, and he could hear the voices of people enjoying themselves. Marco was walking beside him, almost invisible in the dark, aside from his paws which were extremely dim, given the light of the city, but Héctor could spot them a mile away, even at their dimmest. Héctor was moving slowly, so he wouldn’t have to run to keep up. They had some time before nine rolled around, and it was a fine night to be outside.

“Hello old friend,” came a voice from an alley.

“What do you want?” Héctor growled, anger consuming him at the thoughts of all the things his former best friend had done.

“Revenge,” the man snarled, grabbing Héctor, and pulling him close. In the next instant, he was running his bony hand across Héctor ’s markings. “Revenge for what you have stolen from me.”

This should have incited the fury needed to make Marco into a creature born from his overwhelming anger. It should have been enough to make him angry enough, that Marco could chomp on the other man’s bones, breaking them as though they were fragile as glass, as he watched on passively.

Instead it made him freeze with fear.

Large hands roamed over him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, it was like he was frozen.

“No,” he gasped as the large hands did away with the cloth barriers between the two of them.

“No,” he said, breathing hard trapped in the memory of what had been.

The other man simply smiled. “So you do remember our time together, he purred dangerously.

“You don’t need her.” said a voice. He recognized it, he didn’t want to recognize it.

“We only need each other,” the voice continued.

Héctor couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the memories assaulted him. Taking all the fight he had away, and leaving him helpless.

The voice laughed. “You like this don’t you?” it accused.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He wanted to run, to disappear, anything would be better.

Anything would be better.

He was grateful when everything went black.

Marco watched helplessly, as his person was tossed over the brawny skeleton’s shoulder. The little alebrije was consumed with Héctor’s fear, frozen by it, unable to move, until long after Héctor had been taken away.

Home.

Marco forced his paws to move. As he put one paw in front of the other, it became easier to move.

Home.

Family would help.

Home.

He pushed himself to run faster, coaxed all the speed out of his little body that he could.

Home.

Home

Home

Chapter Text

Imelda looked at the door again. There had been no sign of Héctor any of the times she had looked, and there was no sign of him now. He was late, very late, it was well past midnight now, and when he walked through the door, she was going to tell him off for making her worry about him so much. Then she would kiss him just the way he liked, then once he was hooked on her, with that dopey look on his face, she would let him know that she would refrain from any affectionate gestures for a week the next time he made her worry like this .

The others had already retired, not wanting to witness the telling off that Héctor was going to get when he got back. Imelda suspected that it was just an excuse for nobody other than her to be awake when Héctor got home.

Another look at the backdoor had her leaping from the sofa, and opening the door.

“Marco,” she said softly lifting the little alebrije, and feeling sick as she saw his blood mark her white bones.

Marco was dazed. His paw pads were raw, and bleeding, but he had to get help. He barely registered that he was home, but he shook off the confusion as best he could. His person needed him, and he was so close to helping. Marco yipped urgently, putting all the worry, fear, and pure need, that he could into the sound.

It was in that moment that Imelda knew something bad had happened to her husband.

~

Two weeks had gone by. Two weeks of searching, and nightmares. Two weeks of finding no sign of Héctor no matter where or how much they searched, no matter how many people they asked there seemed to be no clues to lead them to him. Two weeks of bitter disappointment, and overwhelming fear, mingling until it was hard to remember what it was like before all of these negative emotions had become so prominent.

Two weeks of seeing Marco’s condition deteriorate. The once lively, vivacious pup, was now withered, and sickly. He hardly moved, rarely ate, and not even being with the other alebrijes was able to brighten his mood. They all did their best to ignore what this meant for Héctor’s condition, none of them were particularly successful.

Two weeks of time to gather an idea of who had done this. She knew that someone had him, and she had a good idea who it was, but she was lacking in proof, and her prime suspect hadn’t been seen in over six months.

They’d gone to the police, but they were very unhelpful, stating that it was likely that Héctor might have fallen victim to the final death, since they had never known a case like his or that he might have left of his own volition. Perhaps it was because of his record,there was a reason every officer knew Héctor after all, but most of them seemed to have a general dislike for him, and even the most tolerant, seemed to be under the impression that he had simply wandered off for a while. The effort that they made to find him was lackluster, at least in Imelda’s eyes.

~

Imelda sat in her room, with Señor Fluffy McFluffyton Rivera the Second. She had taken to carrying the large malformed bunny with her when she moved around the house. Promising that she would let the bunny stay in the room forever if she could just have Héctor here too.

A glance at the clock, showed that it was time for her to get to work. Instead of her apron, she tied on the sling, that she had started wearing so that she could keep Marco close to her. The other alebrijes were out searching, but she couldn’t, not anymore, she couldn’t bear to look all day, and into the night, and not find him. She was breaking already, and she couldn’t do it. It felt like betraying him, but she needed strength for when he was found, because he would be, and she would need to have some strength left to help him.

She arrived at the shop, large bunny in hand, and Marco in his sling. The others were there as well, aside from Julio. He was on search duty today.

Imelda went to the storage room. She had taken to opening boxes, and shelving the materials for the workshop. When she was finished there, she went on to keep the records updated. None of the family commented on how long it took her or how many times they witnessed her checking her work or how many times she buried her face into the large stuffed bunny over the course of the day.

The output for the workshop was severely decreased, the quality was still up to par, because they were Rivera shoemakers, and their craft was very much a part of their identity. They would never sell anything less than a perfectly made shoe .

Imelda had just finished a opening a box full of leather, when she heard Dante enter the shop. She came out of the back room, to see the xolo panting.

Once he caught sight of her, he fixed her with a stare. She bent to his level, and he poked his nose into the sling, whining when he saw Marco.

He licked at the pup, long tongue leaving ruffled fur in its wake, and whined again when he got no response, and looked at Imelda with a look far more wise than she was used to seeing from him. He stepped away, before looking back.

It was clear that the spirit guide wanted her to follow.

~

Dante was a good boy, and good boys made sure their boys stayed happy. His boy loved all his family, both living, and dead. Dante hadn’t crossed in a while, content to play with his boy, and watch after the new baby. His boy loved the baby, and Dante did too. He would protect her too because he was a good boy.

When he came back though, things were sad. Music was gone. Little wolf was sad and sick. Super scary lady who was actually nice a lot now looked sad. Dante was a good boy and he needed to help make everyone happy because that was what good boys did.

He needed get little wolf to his boy. It would help he knew it. It would make all happy again he knew it.

Super scary lady called big kitty and they flew fast. He flapped his little wings coaxing all the speed out that he could.

They were a little ways from the bridge, best place to cross to go to his boy. Super scary lady climbed off of big kitty and he picks little wolf up with his mouth. He looks at super scary lady to tell her to wait then he crosses over so that he can go to his boy.

His color and wings fade. Little wolf has no color to lose. He doesn’t miss his wings and color this time. He has a mission. He needs to find his boy.

~

Miguel was in the yard strumming the skull guitar that had recently been released to the Riveras. It had taken months to prove that Ernesto had stolen Héctor’s songs, and the guitar as well, but the persistence paid off, and now the world knew of Héctor. Many people had already began to speculate why Héctor never came forward about the theft of his songs, and many of the theories were getting close to the truth.

Miguel didn’t play the skull guitar often, mostly taking it off of its display when he was playing for his grandmother, since he didn’t want to risk damage to it. His ‘you’re no longer grounded’ gift from his abuela had been a guitar. It was an apology, and was her way of giving him permission to play. He hadn’t been able to help crying, because somehow, they had fixed his guitar. It was slightly worse for wear, having been smashed, but it still sounded good after a few adjustments. He played that one often, but, sometimes, he allowed himself to play Papá Héctor’s just to feel closer to his deceased relative.

He frowned as he played, something was wrong. He had been feeling that way off, and on for the last two weeks, and the feeling was unsettling, and scary. Miguel also knew that it was worrying his family that he was so sad, and despondent so much, so he made an effort to hide it, but he was a horrible lair, and he was sure they were one step away from planning some kind of therapy of some sort. He hoped that whatever was happening was solved before they did something like that.

The 12 year old, paused, when he saw Dante running towards him. The dog had a little puppy in his mouth, and when he was closer Miguel could see that the creature looked very sickly.

Miguel set aside the guitar as Dante approached. “Who’s this, Dante?” Miguel asked.

The pup looked at him, with dazed, but intelligent brown eyes.

“You’re an alebrije” the boy said.

Miguel stood up, grabbed the guitar, and he put it back on it’s display hooks. Then went to his room. Other than a black and white cat, that Miguel was sure was actually Pepita, Dante had never brought another spirit guide home so there definitely was something wrong.

Once they were all in his room, thankfully going unspotted by his family, Miguel sat on his bed. “I wish you could talk, then you could just tell me what’s wrong,” the boy sighed, as he looked at the two of them.

The pup looked at him, before opening it’s mouth, and biting his arm gently.

Miguel frowned, and looked over at Dante. The xolo, had good instincts, and the wolf was an alebrije. “What do you think Dante?”

The dog gave a gentle bark.

Well if Dante thought it was a good idea…

“Okay,” he said to the pup.

It looked at him, seemly looking for something, and it must have saw it, because it took its claws, and raked them across the top of Miguel’s wrist. The cuts stung, a lot, and it took a lot not to cry out, but they weren’t actually all that deep. Satisfied with the cuts, the pup began to salivate, allowing the saliva to coat the wound, then with a gentle paw, he smeared it in. It hurt, stinging to the point where Miguel couldn’t help crying out a little, but the pain was soon ignored because Miguel could feel a slight buzzing in his head. Instinctively, he poked at it, closing his eyes, when a wave of despair crashed over him.

He tried to send a wave of calm to the presence, because it felt so very familiar, and suddenly, he knew who the alebrije in his hands belonged to.

~

In a dark place a skeleton shivers

It is huddled in a corner

Darkness surrounds

It was fading

… almost gone

It wants to be gone

Doesn’t want to remember

All it knows is pain

Pain of broken bones

Pain of knitting back together

Pain of having them broken once more

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Relief of fading

But now there was something else

A

Connection

A

Person

A

Memory

Despair attacked by calmness

Calmness of someone loved

Chamaco?

His chamaco!

Memories resurface

A grand adventure

Mijo?

Help me

Please?

Please!?

Chapter Text

Miguel felt weird. When he looked he saw why, his body was laying on his bed, but he wasn’t in there. He sighed in relief when he looked at his hands noticing that he wasn’t turning into a skeleton again, so this must have been something else, he wasn’t cursed again. He still held the pup though, and it was encircled with a light aura just as he was. Dante was still looking at him.

“Stay with my body, and don’t let anyone near me okay?,” he told the dog. Dante barked in understanding, and Miguel patted the dog. “Good boy, Dante.”

Miguel had a mission, and he was fairly certain where he had to go, but he didn’t want to think about what would happen if someone tried to wake him up, before he got back. In stories he had read, that was the worst thing that could happen.

He ran outside, about to head to the cemetery to look for the bridge, simply hoping that it would miraculously be there, before the pup barked, causing him to look around. He spotted a distortion, it looked like how heat would ripple in the air on a really hot day, and he proceeded to it.

On the other side, he found his Mamá Imelda, and Pepita waiting.

“Miguel!” Imelda said in shock.

“I’m not cursed,” he assured her before she could ask. “He,” he held up the pup,” “did something, and I was able to come as a…” the boy looked at himself, “a spirit, I guess you could say.”

Imelda took hold of the pup. “This is Héctor’s alebrije, Marco.”

“What’s going on?” Miguel asked.

“Héctor is missing,” Imelda said simply not wanting the overwhelm the boy, but she knew that she had failed when.a worried frown came over the boy’s face as the information clicked.

“Somehow Marco tied me closer to Papá Héctor,” Miguel said. “I can feel him in my head… he’s really scared and hurting.”

“Do you think you could find him?” Imelda asked trying not to hope too hard just in case. She didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on Miguel, she had already caused the boy enough heartache.

“I think,” Miguel said hesitantly. He closed his eyes, concentrating on that new presence in his mind.

~

They ended up one the bottom layers of the Land of the Dead. It was ancient, and almost deserted, since the vast majority of people chose to live in the higher portions of the city. It was also well hidden, and dangerous to traverse given the crumbling state of this particular portion of the layer.

They were soon in a forest, Marco was in Imelda’s sling, and Pepita was following a closely as her size would allow. About thirty minutes later, they came upon a clearing, with a large cavelike building. Plants nearly hid the entrance, due to being very overgrown.

“Stand guard,” Imelda instructed Pepita. This was a far out place, and if Héctor was here, the criminal might come back every so often. If that were the case, it would be very satisfying for the culprit to be met by Pepita.

The place was filled with cells, large reinforced doors lined the walls, and it was likely this was an old prison house. There were not many laws in the Land of the Dead, but if the few that existed were broken, incarceration was one of the possible penalties.

Miguel walked down the hall, almost in a daze, before stopping at the third door on the left. Imelda quickly picked the lock, and despite the circumstances, smiled, at Miguel’s shocked expression.

At first she thought there was nobody inside, but when she did a second look over the cell, she saw him curled tightly in the corner.

“Papá Héctor?” Miguel called. It was one thing to have a despair filled presence in his mind, but another to see his quirky great-great-grandfather curled up in a corner, looking worse than he had that day in the cenote.

“Héctor,” Imelda whispered, going over to him. She gathered him, in her arms, grateful for his lack of weight, and the fact that he was able to stay together in one piece.

Héctor didn’t move, and it worried her a lot, but she set that aside, because she needed to get him out of here, get him home, they would face the consequences after that together.

~

A figure watched with a sneer, as the woman, and child, rode off on the back of the feline alebrije.

It was then that he was struck with the realization that the boy was his real problem, the figure growled. That boy had ruined everything for him. A sinister smile appeared on his features, Héctor loved that boy, and were the child to suddenly disappear one day, surely that would break him in all the ways he hadn’t been already.

The figure laughed quietly, and started its trek towards the upper levels of the Land of the Dead..

Chapter Text

Miguel woke to yelling and growling.

He frowned, trying to understand why his abuela would be yelling, and Dante growling at her, when normally, a raised voice would have the dog scampering away to hide as quickly as he could given his natural clumsiness.

“Move you mutt!” Elena was yelling and it sounded like she was one step from taking off her shoe, and making him move by force.

Miguel sat up before it could escalate further, not wanting Dante to get hurt, because in a fight, his grandmother would surely win. “Abuela?” he asked not even faking the yawn that came from him nor was he acting when his eyes closed almost making him fall back asleep before he realized that he was, and forced them back open,. He was really tired, and he wanted nothing more than to just lay back down, and sleep for a while. Apparently, having your spirit yanked out to help your long dead ancestor was exhausting, but even still, he found some energy, and managed to get out of bed.

Dante was instantly by his side, whining, clearly not wanting him to be up.

“You’re a good boy Dante,” he assured the xolo, scratching him behind his ear with slightly uncoordinated fingers. “I told him not to let anyone wake me up, I was really tired,” he said yawning again, and rubbing his eyes with sloppy movements. He felt himself swaying a bit, and had to struggle to gain some stability. Dante did his best to help, and Miguel was grateful for the assistance.

Elena’s fury at Dante seemed to abate as she saw Miguel practically falling asleep on his feet.

It was then that the boy finally looked up, and saw his parents there as well. It seemed like something he should have noticed before, but he was so tired, more tired than that time he where he was nine and had decided to stay up for 24 hours, on a school night no less, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. He didn’t really think it was too bad that he hadn’t noticed considering he was so tired it was a struggle to even keep his eyes open from one second to the next.

He sleepily made his way over to his papá.

Enrique was a little confused as his son stumbled over to him, but he quickly pulled the boy into a hug when a few steps brought him close enough. The boy gave a happy sigh, snuggling into the hold.

Thankful for the boy’s slight frame, despite the amount of food forced upon him at meals, Enrique lifted his son, and placed him back on his bed. The boy didn’t let go of him though.

Miguel whined, clutching as firmly as he could to his papá’s shirt. He gazed up bleary eyed, because he wanted him to stay. Maybe it had something to do with being pulled from the Land of the Dead again, with Héctor looking so scared, and small, and hurt. It might have had something to do with the comfort he had felt when his papá had embraced him, when he was crying after he had returned home, after his adventure with his deceased family, and thought that he had failed his mission to save Héctor, but whatever the case, he wanted that warm feeling again, because he was so tired, and cold.

Hugs were comforting, the boy mused. Maybe he should do a study, comparing family hugs…

The boy smiled as Enrique laid in the bed with him, he took a deep breath, and allowed sleep to claim him.

~

He was drowning

Unable to tell up from down

Unable to remember anything

Then he was floating

There was someone with him

Close

A warmth

Inside and outside

He was drowning

No

Floating

No

Both

It was like being held in the orange petals

Neither sinking nor floating

“Héctor.”

That voice

Familiar

Imelda?

The name came to him quickly, filling him with love and fear and sadness and hurt. Then more love. So much love, so strong a love.

Then he was gone, neither floating nor sinking.

The next time he managed to surface, he heard another voice. It was in the middle of a story.

“... twins decided to mess with the lights, almost burned the house down.”

He’d have to remember to ask for the whole story from Rosita later.

Rosita!

He remembered. He liked Rosita, she was so friendly, and welcoming. His hija in all but blood.

“I miss you.”

He wanted to respond, to reassure her, let her know that he was here, that he was listening, but he was already losing himself again.

Warmth, fur and feathers. Wool, and bone, all curled around him.

Home.

The next time he surfaced, a male voice was speaking.

“...she hugged me, and that’s when I knew she accepted me as part of the family. I was still scared of her, but less than I had been, and eventually that fear became a deep respect.”

Poor Julio. It was a miracle he had lived as long as he had with Imelda scaring years off his life like that.

He was dreaming. It felt odd to dream after floating between awake, and sleep for such an indeterminable amount of time.

“Mijo,” he whispered, with a great amount of fondness, because he had thought he would have to wait for Miguel’s life to end, before he ever got to see him again, and so he was truly grateful for this dream.

The boy turned, his eyes looking directly at Héctor. The boy let loose a wordless cry, before throwing himself at Héctor, and they both tumbled to the ground, not that either of them minded. “I was so worried.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m super connected to you now, cause of something your alebrije did, and I can feel you in my head, but it’s like you’re sleep all the time, and I was really scared you would never come back.” the boy cried.

“I’m sorry,” Héctor said. He would have asked more questions, and had a harder time believing if he wasn’t aware of the extra sense he now had. They stayed in the embrace until Miguel started to fade.

“I think I’m waking up,” the boy said when Héctor started to panic. “Promise you will wake up soon, I know everyone is really worried.”

“Soon as I can,” Héctor promised.

~

“...then Victoria hit him with her shoe,” laughter followed the statement.

“He deserved it,” Victoria said, causing another round of laughter from the twins.

“I… bet…he…did,” Héctor said haltingly, he had no idea what they were talking about or who had been hit, but if Victoria thought they deserved a beating with a piece of footwear it was probably true. He blinked his eyes, squinting as the light hit them.

There was a brief silence, and then Felipe was running out to tell everyone that Héctor was awake.

“How long?” he asked.

“Three weeks,” Victoria answered. “You were missing for two weeks, and it’s been a week since you were brought home.”

Héctor nodded. Frowning as he tried to remember what had happened. He remembered leaving Shantytown, after having fun playing music and seeing the alebrijes wandering the town, making everything so much brighter, and then everything went blank, and all he could remember was being afraid. So very, very afraid, and there was the darkness, and pain, and…

“Héctor breathe,” a voice said breaking through his panic.

He latched on to her, “I was scared. It was so dark, and I was alone, and I was scared,” he mumbled.

“Shhh, it’s alright. You’re home now.”

Chapter Text

Héctor was noticeably skittish in the days that followed his awakening. He was calm enough with the alebrijes or when he was focused inwardly, but around the human members of the family he was very skittish. They tried not to be hurt by that, the man had been isolated and hurt in ways still unknown to them, for two weeks, there was bound to be some repercussions for that. There was a difference between knowing that, and the resulting feelings however, and no matter how much they tried not be hurt at the unintentional rejection, they were.

It was worse when he started moving around the house though, silently walking from room to room, almost like a ghost, hardly speaking, and always followed by worried alebrijes.

He couldn’t even play music, since his guitar had been too damaged when he had been attacked, and in his state they don’t think he would be receptive to a new instrument anyway. They had managed to save his hat though, and he was grateful for that, as evidenced by the fact that he held on the the thing constantly.

~

He hadn’t slept in Imelda’s room since he had woken up, it’s clear that he isn’t sleeping at all actually. When night fell, after the silent affair that dinner had become, Héctor silent because of his own thoughts, and the others too worried to even pretend that everything was okay, he went either to his room or the shed in the backyard that they’d had built when he was found.

The Land of the Dead ran on a credit system where one traded labor and or wares, and had credit accounts with those to whom they gave service. The Rivera family, had a great deal of credit built from selling their shoes, most of their clientele remaining with the family when they passed from the Land of the Living to the Land of the Dead, so it was easy for them to have the large shed built. It was an very open design, with a large amount of room inside. A comfortable mattress lay on the floor, covered with the softest sheets, and the surrounding area, was littered with chairs, and pillows. The space was large enough that the whole family, including the alebrijes could fit into the area all at the same time.

He doesn’t keep any of them up while he avoids sleeping though, were that the case, they were sure he was have exiled himself to the shed every night rather than risk keeping them awake, but the fact that their property is not completely surrounded by the city, means that night is typically a very quiet time, since so many residents of the Land of the Dead choose to sleep during the night, with the exception of holidays. Those factors made it so that most of them could hear his pacing in the night, and it wasn't easy for any of them to sleep in any case. Even were that not the situation, they would have known that he wasn't sleeping at all from the way he seemed to doze at odd times of the day.

Memory was a strong thing. Sleep wasn’t exactly needed for them to carry on, but not doing it seemed to have consequences, most speculated that it was because it did when they were alive, and as such that was something that carried over into death.

He’s been found dozing behind the sofa, at the table, thankfully not during a mealtime, and even once on the side of a bookcase. They don’t say anything though, because he seemed not to want to talk about it, he seemed not to want to address it whatsoever, but they couldn’t help worrying. It's around then, they feel that they might have to intervene if something doesn't change soon, because they are starting to fear that if they don't they might lose him forever.

~

“Héctor , get up, breakfast is being served,” Imelda ordered. The family is surprised when he doesn’t even stir. Normally, one of them saying something to him, is enough to wake him, the twins speculate it’s the ingrained fear of Imelda’s boot, not that she would hit him after everything that had just happened, and that fear, combined with the recent trauma, is what causes him to startle whenever they wake him, the others agree with that assessment once they voice it.

Imelda sighs sadly, walks over to Hector, and proceeds to pick him up, as though he were a child. Their surprise is increased when, instead of waking in embarrassment or fear as, Hector curls in on himself, and positions his head so that it is resting on Imelda’s collarbone.

She carries him to the sofa, shaking out a throw that is lain over it, and spreading it over him. Then she goes back to the table, and they keep silent, not wanting to chance waking him. For once, he seems properly asleep, and they don't want to rob him of his rest. More importantly, that was the first time that he had sought out comfort from any of them since he had awakened. It gave them hope that a change was soon to come.

A few hours later, Héctor wakes with a choked sound that is somewhere between a sob and a scream. If he had a heart it would be beating so frantically it would likely be audible to everyone in the house. He pulls his legs to his chest, and rests his head there, trying to calm down, forcing away the memory of being locked in, and cold, and hurt. Forcing away the memory of being touched.

“Héctor ?” he hears Imelda say, and a glance up shows him that not only had she heard, but so too had the other members of the family. He is suddenly seized by panic. His breathing speeds, and his mind is pulled into a quiet space where he is no longer aware of reality. This was what he had been trying to avoid, for a mere moment he wishes they had never found him, had never accepted him into their hearts, because then they wouldn’t have been burdened with this, burdened with him.

He shakes that thought away quickly though, because he never wanted to go back to a time without them. Even as hurt as he was, as bad as things were now, he was grateful for them. They were the only things keeping him tethered, the only things allowing him to fight the memories, and misery and pain.

He launches himself up the flight of stairs retreating to his room to bury his face in his stuffed bunny. It smells like Imelda, lovely perfume, and leather.

He doesn’t leave his room the next day, unable to face the world, unable to face his family, and that night he dreams.

~

Large hands roamed over him, they were the fleshy fingers of a musician, that was easy enough to tell, even if he couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, it was like he was frozen.

“No,” he gasped as the large hands did away with the cloth barriers between the two of them.

“You don’t need her.” said a voice. He recognized it, he didn’t want to recognize it. He wanted to scream, to fight, to get himself out of this, this was wrong, so wrong, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“We only need each other,” the voice continued.

He wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere not here, anywhere, but here.

“We’re a team,” the voice said. He could feel the hands drifting down, one gripping something that was never theirs to hold. Skin brushing against his own, making him shiver.

The voice laughed. “You like this don’t you?” it accused.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He wanted to run, to disappear, anything would be better.

He needed to forget.

And he did.

~

Héctor woke up screaming, tears streaming, and shivering, he cut off the sound when he realized what he was doing, but it was far to late to hope nobody had heard him. His breath quickened as he recalled the feeling of the hands on him, touching him, and he whimpered, he couldn’t help it. Were he still alive, he would have been sick, as it was he could only hold himself, and hope the phantom sensations that he could still feel, faded quickly.

“Héctor?” A voice said as a knock sounded at his door. It was Imelda, he wanted more than anything to say that everything was fine, and that she should go back to bed, but he was frozen, trapped in the thought that she would think so much less of him if she knew what had happened. That she would no longer want such a damaged, and disgraced individual in her home or in her afterlife.

“Are you okay, hermano?” That was Oscar and Felipe, only they could speak in tandem like that. Their voices were so gentle, too gentle for someone that had woke them in the middle of the night.

“We heard a scream,” There was Julio, and from his phrasing, it was likely that Rosita, and Victoria were with him.

Shame flooded Hector, he had woken the whole household, because of a nightmare. Could he be any weaker? No wonder Imelda had wanted nothing to do with him for so long, he was a failure in all possible ways. Even in death, he was pathetic. Maybe…

He realized that he had held his silence too long, when the knocking started again. “I’m coming in,” Imelda said unable to wait another second, then she opened the door.

The sight before her made her gasp in shock. Hector was on his bed, hunched up as small as possible, clutching his bunny, as though it were the only thing keeping him from disappearing. Knowing that Imelda would be the greatest comfort to him, the others retreated to the sitting room, there was no way any of them were getting to sleep anytime soon after hearing such a panic inducing sound, and they wanted to be close just in case they were needed.

Imelda walked over and sat on the edge of Héctor’s bed. “Did you have a nightmare?” she asked gently, it was clear that he had, but she didn't know where else to start.

He nodded, scared of what he would say if he was to open his mouth.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked softly, she made sure he knew he could say no if he needed to.

He shook his head vigorously.

“That’s fine,” she said,it was best not to push for answers, especially when Hector looked so frightened, she didn't want to scare him any further, and this was the closest he had allowed her while awake, she wasn't going to jeopardize that. “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

“Stay,” came the whispered reply. It was eerily reminiscent of the way he had asked when he had been ill. 

Imelda found herself wanting to thrash whatever had caused Héctor’s nightmare. She had rarely heard him sound so lost and fearful, either in life or death, and whatever caused it surely needed a good thrashing. Setting aside her violent urges for the moment, because as satisfying as they were, they were counterproductive at the moment, given that Héctor clearly needed her gentleness. She took a breath, before gently saying, ”do you want just me or would you like to include the others as well?” he looked up at that, and it made her happy to see the curiosity there, and not simply fear or reluctance.

“Come on,” she said softly, she reached out to grab his hand, making sure he was aware of her intentions, and once she held his, she pulled him off the bed with her. She kept the grip loose, just as he did that day in the workshop, giving him the ability to pull away at anytime he needed to. She was very grateful, and very proud when he didn't. Together they went to sitting room where the rest of the family was assembled.

“He doesn’t want to be alone tonight,” Imelda said softly.

Héctor ducked his head, embarrassed at how bluntly she had said that.

The others leapt into action, eager to help now that he was allowing it.

“I’ll get the blankets,” Julio said.

“We’ll grab the pillows,” the twins said together.

“I’ll get the lights,” Rosita declared.

“Victoria, will you supervise the preparations? I want to talk to Héctor .”

Victoria nodded, and Imelda pulled Hector into the kitchen.

She smiled at the confusion evident on his features. “It won’t take long for them to set it up,” she promised. “Oh, and if you were wondering, we’re in here, because Victoria supervises far better than I do when it comes to this, but I really don’t like to admit it.”

“Lie,” he whispered softly. He knew they were in here, so that she could be sure that he wasn’t being overwhelmed by all the activity.

She gave a huff at being called out, but he knew that she wasn’t mad, when she let him pull her into a loose hug. He had almost forgotten what it was like to embrace someone. It felt really good, and it saddened him when he reflected on how much he had pushed everyone away, suddenly he wished for more contact with the ones that he loved.

“It’s ready,” Victoria called from the living room.

Héctor looked around with awe as they reentered the room. All the furniture had been arranged into a semicircle, and strings of standard color lights had been draped over the sofa, and arm chairs to provide a warm glow. In the middle of the floor, were a whole slew of couch cushions, on top of those were a dozen or so blankets, and on top of that were more pillows than he could count, of varying shapes, colors, and sizes.

Everyone piled into the mass of bedding, and though there was an abundance of room, they ended up very close to one another. It was warm, a good kind of warm, it let him know that they were all here, here for him, of course that was when.the memory brought to the fore by the dream, washed over him, and he shivered.

“Do you want to be out in the shed with the alebrijes?” Imelda asked. It saddened her, that he might want that, but she was willing to do whatever he needed, whatever it took to make him happy, and help him recover.

Héctor shook his head, holding her tighter. He wanted to be here with them. He wanted to tell them, to trust them with his pain. He was ready to let them help. He didn't want to break the promise he had made to himself again. He breathed deeply, fighting the voice in his mind that said that this was a very, very bad idea, and that they wouldn’t believe him or worse they would believe it and they’d be ashamed of him, ashamed of his helplessness. “I had a nightmare,” he said. He knew that they were aware of that, but he had to start somewhere.

“Do you want to tell us about it?” Imelda asked again.

Héctor nodded. “It’s just that..." he paused to gather his courage before finishing his sentence, "I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“What you’ll all think of me after,” he admitted. “The nightmare... was a mem- a memory, I blocked out a long time ago, and the feelings that it brought up is the reason I’ve been avoiding being touched. I didn’t know that until I remembered everything ”

“This is a safe place, none of us will ever bring up what you chose to tell us, unless you want to bring it up with us.” Rosita assured him. There was no way to fake the amount of honesty in her voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” all of them said echoing each other.

He took a deep breath. He could do this, he could trust them with this. They loved him, they wanted him. “ When I was taken... I remembered something that happened when I was alive. Everything was so confusing after that i couldn't remember all of it. The nightmare was about what happened back then. It was a little before I… died. He didn’t want me to leave. He- uh… um…tried to convince me to stay. I wanted leave. I wanted to go home. He… wanted me stay, s-so… I think he drugged me, because I can remember that I couldn’t move at all, and he… touched me. Told me I was weak. Said… Imelda wouldn’t want me anymore… cause I was b- broken, and… unclean because… I let him touch there… and he said I liked it…I didn’t…. but he kept saying so, and… then he said he would tell if I left.

I didn’t remember… I didn’t ever want too. I just wanted to go home. I tried to come home… then… then… I was dead.”

Imelda let out an angry sound, and for a moment, Héctor feared it was directed at him.

“He is lucky I never knew.” Imelda growled, “I’d have been arrested for murder, if I had known.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Oscar growled.

“I would have,” Imelda argued.

“No, he meant been arrested,” Felipe said, angered just as much as his siblings. “We would have helped you, and no one would have ever known what happened to him.”

Héctor let out a small laugh, “I don’t know what’s crazier, you three casually discussing murder or me being comforted by the casual discussion of a murder.”

“Don’t,” Imelda growled, “Don’t do this Héctor, not right now, you don’t need to deflect like that.”

“I wasn’t… not really. I was just so afraid that… nobody would believe me.”

“Abuelo,” Victoria started voice firm and holding a gravity that said that whatever she had to say was nothing but the truth, “listen well to this, we’ve only known you a short amount of time, and we still have a lot to learn about one another, but I think all of us know you well enough to know you would not lie about this.”

Gratitude was flowing through him warmly. “Thank you,” he said.

Imelda simply pulled him closer to her. “There is no need to thank any of us for that,” she said.

Héctor disagreed. “There is,” he said. “I… there… I, had a few primos, y tíos that went through things... like I did. They talked to me about it, maybe on some level we could sense that… anyway, some of their stories… well lets just say theirs tended to last more than a few minutes. When I remember that, it seems I got off lightly.”

“Héctor," she said with a barely restrained growl, "it doesn’t matter how long it lasted, no one should go through that. Don’t compare your story to the others that you know, and think that yours matters any less than them, all of them are equally horrible, and painful. None of them should have happened.” Imelda said.

Héctor had no words in the face of such a declaration, and so he fell back on an old habit, apologizing for himself. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” he said,  because honestly he needed to apologize for that, and he was sure that they would rather be comfy in bed, than down here listening to him blubber about the past. It was over, he was safe now, he should be able to put it behind him, and not be making them worry about him like this.

Gasps, and sighs sounded around him, and he winced, thinking they were finally tired of him and all his problems.

“You silly man,” Imelda said fondly as she sat up, and he gazed at her in shock. “None of us are mad at you,” she said clearly having read his mind. "We are worried, and concerned because we love you."

The others were sitting up now, circled around them. He gazed around watching them. Rosita ran a hand through his hair, smiling brightly as he allowed her to do so. “A lot has happened, and of course you have scars from it. Anyone that could go through all you have, and come out perfectly fine doesn’t have emotions. It's going to be hard to work through everything, but we'll help in anyway that we can.”

Victoria laid a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You do make a mess of yourself at times, especially when you roll in the dirt with all the alebrijes," he smiled a little at that, especially since she wasn't the first to comment on it, "but you’re fine the way you are.”

The twins each laid a hand on his arm. “No matter what, you’re ours, you belong here, you always have, we were just blind to it. Who cares if you’re a mess of emotions sometimes. We prefer when you talk to us, and show us how you feel, rather than seeing you hiding the emotions away.”

Julio placed a hand on his other shoulder. “Just rest,” the man said kindly seeing that he was getting overwhelmed. “We’ll be here.”

Julio didn’t specify if he ment when they woke up or for the rest of the afterlife that they would spend with one another, but Héctor had the feeling that he meant both.

Chapter Text

The next morning, everyone woke before Héctor did. They were at once hit with shock, remembering what he had told them, and an air of sad peace, because this was without a doubt a turning point for them. There was also a sense of wonder in them, that such dark circumstances had left him with any brightness whatsoever. They didn’t know how he had managed it, but they were forever grateful.

As they begin to shift, to get ready for the day, Héctor let out a sound that was close to that of a kicked puppy, and they would have accused the man of emotional manipulation, but it was clear that he was still asleep. Somehow that was even sadder. He had pushed them away for so long, trying to come to terms with all that had happened on his own, that now that he had told them, and saw that there was no harsh judgement from any of them, he was eager to have them at his side, and expressed that desire even while asleep.

Nobody had the heart to upset him, especially after what he had just gone through, even if he likely wouldn’t have any memory of this, and they decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of a lie in.

~

When Héctor woke, it was to the feeling that he was being watched, not like before, because the gazes he could feel were warm and comforting. Opening his eyes, he found that the others were in fact watching him, and he squirmed a little in embarrassment, realizing that they were only still here this late in the day because of him.

He was happy that he didn’t have a tongue since, at this moment, it would have been a choking hazard. “So,” he started with an embarrassed laugh, having absolutely no idea what to say. Then he stilled, because he had an idea. He turned his gaze to Imelda, and she looked at him curiously.

“I don’t know if I, well, I think I do, but I really don’t know,” Héctor started.

Imelda gave him a light flick to the head, happy to find that it still worked as a way to stop Héctor from rambling.

He pouted a little. “That’s mean,” he said rubbing the area she had hit.

Héctor felt an arm wrap around him lightly, and gaze behind him to see Rosita. The woman pulled him to her, in a sloppy kind of hug. “I’ll protect you,” she declared, eyes twinkling with mischief.

The twins grinned, hurrying over to lightly pin Imelda. “Get him away from here,” Oscar said dramatically, as Imelda manged to tackle Felipe, and tickle him into submission, Oscar valiantly went to ‘rescue’ his twin, and soon found himself incapacitated.

Rosita scooped Héctor up into her arms as she stood. She gazed at him, making sure he wasn’t upset, and found him smiling a goofy little smile.

Done with the twins, Imelda stalked towards them, fingers flexed into claws, only to find her way blocked by Victoria and Julio. “We can not allow you to pass miss,” Victoria said, and it was quite comical how serious she managed to sound given the situation.

Imelda pulled herself up to her full height, dusting her nightgown off, and stood with aristocratic poise. “I am simply a proper lady, after my wayward husband,” she said.

Victoria and Julio pretended to consider this.

“Do not be fooled,” Rosita said. “Already she has incapacitated two of our companions.”

Héctor struggled not to laugh, he had no idea how this had become a game or why they were doing it, but he was having a great deal of fun.

When he returned his gaze, Victoria and Julio were dancing together, it was a little awkward given the height difference, and Victoria’s lack of experience, however that awkwardness just made the sight doubly adorable . Unfortunately, that meant his only protector left was Rosita.

Héctor got out of her hold, “you have protected me well,” he declared solemnly, and he turned, and walked to Imelda. “I surrender to you, diosa, what is it that you wish of me?”

“Speak plainly, mi idiota, we eventually have to open up the shop today.”

That was the last straw, Héctor laughed. Of course the others had been barely refraining from laughing at the ridiculous scene themselves, and soon joined him,

After they sufficiently recovered, and sat down to breakfast, Héctor spoke up. “I was just wondering if I still get to make a holiday?”

“Of course,” Imelda said. “Did you have an idea foe what you wanted it to be?”

Héctor nodded. “I really liked waking up with all of you near me this morning, and I just thought it would be nice to have one massive family sleepover every year,” Héctor was two seconds away from panicking at the silence, when Imelda, spoke up. “I think that’s a great idea.”

There was agreement from the others. All that remained was to choose a date.

~

That following week , saw Héctor beginning to regain his equilibrium. Marco and Pepita followed him whenever he took brief walks, mostly he chose to walk in the yard, but sometimes he wandered around the rest of the property, never straying far, for everyone’s peace of mind, and he was certain that he wouldn’t be for quite some time, considering the panic he felt at the thought of being away from home at this point.

Inside the house the others were ready and willing to simply sit with him when he just desired championship, with no conversation ,sometimes he was quiet because he was testing that new connection to his grandson, and sometimes he just needed to devote thought to everything that had happened.

Other times they would chat with him about things he hadn’t been around to see or any other topic that came to mind, sometimes they pulled out a few photo albums, and let the conversation go where it wanted. It was lovely, perfect, and just what he needed.

The most helpful thing, was that he didn’t sleep alone at night. Their little camp out in the living room had gone well. He had slept better than he had in the time since he had woken up.

That of course lead to him seeking out companionship for the next night, wanting to use any method he could to keep the nightmares at bay. They weren’t all as bad as the one that had led to the sleepover, but it seemed as though all the negative things that he remembered, led to more, and more negative dreams. Some of them he knew he would find utterly silly if they didn’t terrify him so much.

He ended up at Rosita’s room the first night after the impromptu sleepover. Imelda would have been his first choice, but he knew that she still needed so time to recover from what she had learned. He knew that she was feeling guilty, for not knowing about what had happened to him, which was silly considering he didn’t even remember either, and then adding to his problems by rejecting him all those years. No matter how absurd he thought it was, because, again, he hadn’t known either, he knew that she needed a little space to work through the revelations.

For a moment, he stood before the door, second guessing himself, and finally, decided that he needed to face the dreams on his own, and began to walk away.

Marco, was not satisfied with that, so the pup began pawing at the door, making as much noise as he could. Héctor tried to stop him, but it was too late, and the door was being opened.

Héctor gazed sheepishly at her, and Rosita simply smiled warmly, and invited him in. The room was as he thought it would be, warm tones, and lots of pictures decorated the walls. The bed was covered in royal blue sheets, and there was a comfy looking chair, with a plush throw thrown across it.

While Héctor was busy taking in the room, Rosita had guided him to the bed, getting him tucked in, before he even noticed, and he gazed at her with a look of shock that had her giggling.

He gazed away from her shyly. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” he said echoing his words from the previous night, because he had no idea what else to say..

Rosita reached out a hand, so that she could tilt his face up. He was shocked to see that her normally kind expression had been replaced by a fierce glare. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You went through a lot of bad things, and if sharing a bed with another is something that brings you even the slightest comfort, there is no shame in that.”

For a moment, Héctor, sat there in complete awe because he was once again reminded that despite her normally sweet persona, Rosita was just as fierce as any of the others when something called for it. Then he was smiling because he truly did have an amazing group of people to call family. “Thank you,” he said.

Rosita ruffled his hair, and laughed as he tried to stop her. He wasn’t trying very hard though, and that was how she knew that he really didn’t mind.

At that point, Luna, jumped on the bed, and settled herself in Héctor’s lap.

Rosita pouted, “Well since you took my snuggle buddy,” she grabbed Marco, “I’ll have to take this little guy.”

They proceeded to have a mock battle over the two alebrijes, before finally, the alebrijes marched over, and settled together on Luna’s bed.

The two of them gazed at the alebrijes.

“We’ve been abandoned,” Héctor lamented.

“At least we still have each other,” Rosita said, dramatically wiping at a non-existent tear.

Héctor smiled because it was true, and Rosita pulled him into a hug.

He had his family. He would be okay.

“Goodnight.” he said.

“Goodnight. Sleep well,” Rosita said, and he did.

~

Emboldened with the success of that night with Rosita, he decided that it would be a good idea to experience sleepovers with the others.

The door he ended up at the next night was Victoria’s. Obviously she had heard about the night that he had spent with Rosita, because she let him into the room, with no hesitation, clearly she was expecting him, since she had a book already picked out.

“How did you know I was coming?” he asked.

“You were looking at me a lot today, so I,,, simply thought it might happen.”

Though she was trying to hide it, he could sense her nervousness. “If this is something too weird I can go,” he offered.

“That’s not-,” she sighed, sitting down on the bed. “I’m not good at this kind of thing. I just don’t want to upset you or do anything to make this a negative experience for you.”

Héctor couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into an embrace. She was stunned for a moment, but soon enough she had wrapped her arms around him. “I’m just grateful that you let me in because I can see how this is a little odd, and extremely needy on my part.”

She pulled away gazing at him a bit quizzically. “You- Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he answered.

“Do you really think that wanting comfort from a family member or asking us to spend time together is really a chore for any of us?”

“I- well-,” he stuttered.

That in itself, was as good an answer as any.

“I probably could speak for the others when I say this, but I won’t since they can speak for themselves. For me, this,” she moved a hand between them, “is not a problem. We all have a lot to work through, with everything that has happened, but I like a lot of things about you. I like the way you care about others, and about all of us even with how things were before . I like how you treat alebrijes, and how fond they are of you. One day I hope you will like yourself as much as I do, but until then, I guess I’ll just have to come up with more reasons so I can give you the full list and you won’t be able to argue with it.”

“You lied.”

“No I didn’t-”

“No, not about… believing what you just said, but about not being good at comforting people.”

She looked away shyly, and for the first time, Héctor was getting to see a glimpse of the little girl that she once was.

“Well we best get to bed,” she said.

“But what about the story?” he asked with a whine.

She rolled her eyes, and picked up the book.

He was asleep before the first chapter was over.

~

Everyone knew. That was clear enough in the way they fondly watched him, over the course of the day. It was equally clear that the others were awaiting their turns, so he wouldn’t disappoint.

The next night, he turned up at the room that belonged to the twins.

Felipe pulled him into the room before he could even knock.

The two beds had been pushed together, creating a bed that was more than adequate for three skinny skeletons. The room had clearly been tidied, either for his arrival or because it was one of their assigned chores, but there was still an organized chaos about the room. Things seemed to be grouped by material, with all the fabric on the opposite side from all the metal.

“Do you want the middle or one of the ends?” Oscar asked.

“Um,” Héctor hesitated. He’d been okay at the large sleepover a few nights ago so really he should be fine.

“Maybe I can try the middle,” he said quietly. He walked over, and climbed into the bed before either of them could say anything along the lines him not having to stay if he didn’t want too.

They climbed in on either side of him, and he took a breath.

“Héctor,” Felipe started.

“I’m fine, just… let me have a second.” He allowed himself to breathe, feeling the presence of his brothers. They wouldn’t hurt him, never in the way that he had. He let himself feel the difference here, there had been no coercion, no deceit, they were simply spending the night together for his comfort. He reached out with both hands, eyes still closed, and smiled when the brothers linked hands with him without hesitation.

He hadn’t really been afraid they would take advantage of him, not that there was much to take advantage of now, but his fear was that sharing a sleeping space with just other males would make his body and mind relive that trauma. It appeared he had underestimated himself, and the bond between he and the twins. That was an excellent thing to know.

With that he opened his eyes, and smiled brightly. There was no way that the twins knew his thoughts, but they readily smiled back at him.

“So tell me,” he said, hands still linked because it felt nice, “what is the best thing that you two got around to inventing?”

They both gazed at him with an expression of pure disbelief, they had made some amazing things over the years, and there was no way that they could choose one thing as the best. To prove that point they launched into tales of the coolest things they created, and were clearly leaving out how much trouble they got in for some of them.

On and on they went, and Héctor was fairly sure they were making some of it up, and embellishing on some items, because they were clever, but there was no way they had made a life size mechanical mammoth.

It was around the time that they were telling him of the time they built a plane, that he fell asleep.

~

Julio was the last one he hadn’t spent a night with, and it took a while for Héctor work up the courage to go to the man’s room the night following the one that he had spent with the twins.

“I can-” he began

“Why don’t,” Julio started.

Then they both stared at one another awkwardly.

Julio stepped back, and Héctor stepped inside.

They stared at one another a moment longer, and both of them smiled.

“We’re a set of awkward old men,” Héctor sighed.

Julio nodded his agreement. “I didn’t think you would come to me.” he said.

“I was nervous,” Héctor admitted, “but I never would have left you out of all” he gestured a little wildly, “of whatever this is.”

“I thought that we could watch a movie,” Julio said.

“That’s a good idea,” Héctor agreed.

Julio set up the movie, and Héctor sat on the bed.

It was a good film, even if it was a bit silly, and both men were tired by the time the credits were rolling. The ending of the film gave him an idea though and he asked Julio what he thought of it.

The man’s eyes sparkled, at how wonderful the idea was, and they stayed up for a while planning until both of them drifted off.

When they woke up, they were no longer on opposite sides of the bed as they had been when they had fallen asleep, instead they were now cuddled in the middle of the bed.

“Ah, I apologize, I’ve always been this way” Héctor said with a bit of embarrassment.

Julio seemed to feel the same. “I suppose this is just one more thing that we have in common.

Though first instinct had been to withdraw, neither of them moved. It was odd, but nevertheless it was nice.

~

It was Julio’s turn to start breakfast, and he let Héctor stay in bed.

When Héctor came downstairs it was to everyone arguing over a chart.

“I’m not giving up Tuesday,” Victoria was saying.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

They all turned to see him there, and he was treated to some sheepish looks. Imelda rolled her eyes, and explained.

“Since you’ve been going to the others, we’ve noticed that you’ve slept better, and it’s also nice for everyone else. So we designed a sleep rotation.” she said.

It was then that he got to see the chart. It had the days of the week. Imelda had him on Saturday, and Sunday. Julio on Monday, Victoria on Tuesday, Oscar and Felipe on Wednesday, and Rosita on Thursday, Friday was his choice.

By this point the twins were back to arguing with Victoria, and Héctor couldn’t help smiling.

“What has you so happy?” Imelda asked.

Héctor shrugged trying to play it off like it was no big deal. “It’s been a while since people were arguing because they want me rather than because they wanted to get rid of me.”

Of course that served to ignite the guilt that plagued all of them, and Héctor felt bad for killing the happy atmosphere. He was just about to attempt a change in topic, when he was pulled into a hug, and the others lined up for them as well. Dios, he was becoming addicted to cuddles, and apparently, the family had made it their mission to make him cry, because, once again, tears were falling and they were at fault.

After a moment to gather himself, he knew he would never get over the amazement that came from being loved by his family, and he was okay with that. He took a breath, and settled on a topic to distract himself. “So why don’t you want to give up Tuesday?” he asked Victoria.

The woman smiled at him. “You know why.”

Héctor feigned ignorance.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Because we can discuss The Bold and The Restless.”

The others looked at them.

“Héctor you watch that over dramatic soap opera?” Imelda asked with an air of complete disbelief.

Héctor laughed. “I really like it,” he said.

Turning to Victoria he said, “I can’t wait for this weeks episode, Fernando is waking up from his coma, and we get to see if he and Federico can reconcile, even though Amara has been with both of them.”

Victoria lit up. “Don’t forget about Emily and Erin story, that’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“I’ve been wanting to know if Emily knows about her living twin myself,” Julio added, distractedly.

It took approximately ten seconds of silence before he realized that he had just admitted he watched the soap opera.

Embarrassed father, and excited daughter, began to discuss the rather cliche plot of the soap opera, Héctor interjecting when one of them got a detail wrong. The best arc had definitely been when Federico had amnesia, and Mary was taking advantage of it, everyone knew that.

They had quickly moved on to predicting what was going to happen in the next episode, when Victoria made a bet with her father over the fate of Erin. Héctor backed out of the conversation at that point and both of them noticed.

“Aren’t you going to guess?” Victoria asked.

Héctor shook his head. “I have nothing to wager,” he said.

“We aren’t putting credits on the line. When we bet, we wager our talents. I either have to write a new story or read something out loud, the twins invent, Papá designs, Mamá Imelda offers some form of lenience, and Rosita is very good at sowing and cooking.”

“What can I offer?” he asked.

Victoria rolled her eyes, and sighed, as though the answer was so obvious that it was a chore to have to verbalize. “Music, of course.”

“My guitar was broken when… you know,” he said sadly.

Imelda walked over to a closet and pulled out a case. “I almost forgot about this. You can use this one or I can get you a different replacement if you want.”

She placed the case in his hands, and he opened it to find a guitar. The thing clearly was handmade, and had been crafted with spare materials it seemed. It was modeled after a guitar he would recognize anywhere.

“Miguel made this didn’t he?” Héctor asked, because something inside him was screaming it.

“Yes.”

Héctor took the instrument into his hands. He could feel the love that went into the creation of it, and he searched that place in his mind where his connection to his chamaco was. Making sure that this was okay. The resulting wave of affection had Héctor grinning like an idiot.

His hands went to the strings and he began to play.

Chapter Text

“Any requests?” Héctor asked a few days later, strumming a little tune, as he wandered over to what he had come to think of as his corner of the Rivera workshop. Until they told him to leave or put something there to subtlety tell him to keep away, he would continue to refer to it as such.

Rosita grinned, “I’ve grown quite fond of Un Poco Loco,” she said. While it was true that she had indeed grown fond of the song, it was quite the catchy tune after all, she had also grown fond of watching Imelda as she listened to it as well. Sometimes she tried to pretend she didn't like the song, but other times she simply let herself enjoy it.

There was a groan from Imelda. “Anything, but that.” Apparently this was going to be a time she pretended that she didn't like the song at all.

“But hermana-” Oscar started.

“-it’s his best song.” Felipe finished.

Héctor smiled at the twins before looking at Imelda. “Do you not like that song?” he said with all the innocence of a small child.

Imelda rolled her eyes, it was the only response she had to that, and the others smiled because they knew for a fact that she liked it when Héctor sung the song, regardless of how she acted. They also knew that Héctor loved singing the song even though he had been working on a few other songs.

Héctor took that eye roll as permission and began to play, knowing that if she was truly against it, she would have said so.

A smile crossed his face, as he thought about what this song had come to mean to him. It was an unconventional love song, but more than that, he had performed this song with his chamaco, and later with his alebrije, it was lovely to have so many memories attached to such a song. 

“What color is the sky?

Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor

You tell me that,”

“It’s red” Imelda sang with him.

Héctor grinned as he continued the song.

“Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor

Where should I put my shoes?

Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor

You say-”

“Put them on your head.”

The others laughed at the intensity that went into that.statement. It was easy to imagine the conversation that might have led to the formation of those particular lyrics.

“Ay mi amor

Ay mi amor

You make me un poco loco

Un poquititito loco

The way you keep me guessing

I’m nodding and I’m yessing

I’ll count it as a blessing

That I’m only

Un poco loco

The loco that you make me

It is just un poco cr-”

“Héctor!” Imelda exclaimed as she abandoned her station to rush over to him. The others stopped as well concern etched upon their features.

Héctor collapsed, groaning as he fell to the floor in a fashion was reminiscent of a puppet having it’s strings cut. It was pure luck that he had avoided damaging his guitar.

Imelda pushed the instrument aside, and pulled her husband into her arms.

He was shaking so hard that she feared he would fall apart. His breathing was labored, in what would have been hyperventilation had he still been alive, but worst of all was the near constant whimpers of pain.

“What can I do?” Imelda asked helplessly. Land of the Dead doctors would be of no help in this situation. Then, suddenly, Héctor went still.

~

Héctor was floating in a white space, for a moment, and he was afraid that he had succumb to the final death somehow, even though it had been almost a year since he had been in danger of that, and despite the fact that this felt different, but then the brightness dulled down to more muted colors.

He looked around, he was in an alley, it was quite cramped, considering the closeness of the buildings on either side. He wandered down the alley, and found himself in a small little clearing, there was another alley leading from the place, but he hardly noticed that because the clearing was not empty.

There were three boys there, two of them, he didn’t recognize, but the third he would never mistake, not after all they had gone through together.

“Chamaco,” he called out, not believing his eyes. “Miguel, can you hear me, mijo?”

Miguel didn’t look his way, so he had his answer.

“Leave me alone,” Miguel said, trying to walk away.

One of the boys punched Miguel, fist landing on the boy’s cheek, and the force behind it knocking the boy to the ground. The one that had punched him, dragged Miguel up by the his jacket, and the other punched him in the stomach. Miguel coughed and sputtered harshly as he fell to the ground once more.

Somehow, despite the distance, and the fact that he was so far away, he heard Miguel whisper, “Help me Papa Héctor,” as the two bullies proceeded to kick him, and the boy curled into a ball to protect himself..

The plea broke Héctor from his frozen state. He was furious. “Stay away from him!” he roared, as he rushed over, shoving the boys that were attacking his little chamaco. Much to his surprise, he didn’t go through them, as he had half expected would be the case, instead his attacks landed upon them, heavy hits fueled by protective rage, causing them to fall to the ground. Emboldened by this, he proceeded to deliver blows to the two of them, until they ran away.

He was half tempted to follow, but one look at Miguel, breathing raggedly where he lay on the ground, doused his anger. He reached for the boy, thankful he was able to make physical contact with him as well. Héctor quickly found that the boy was too heavy for him to lift now that he was flesh and blood once more, but with a lot of effort, he managed to get them settled against a building.

“Chamaco, listen to me, I need you to call for Dante. He is your spirit guide, and he’ll hear you.”

Miguel whimpered.

It hurt Héctor to hear such a sound, but he had to put that hurt aside for the moment, because they needed to get Miguel some help. “I know it hurts mijo, I know, but you have to get help.”

After a few rough coughs, Miguel managed to call out the xolo’s name.

Héctor wasn’t sure how spirit guides worked when they were in the Land of the Living, but he was hopeful that, that would suffice. If not then he would just have to think of something else. As he waited, he checked Miguel’s injuries, they didn’t seem too bad, thankfully he couldn’t find any breaks, but he knew that there would be a lot of bruises. He would be far happier once the boy was home, and being cared for though. He was gently running his hands through the boy’s hair, trying to keep him calm, when Dante appeared.

Dante whined as he took in Miguel’s condition. “I need you to get him help,” Héctor said, hoping that the street dog turned alebrije would be able to see and hear him. With a whine, and a final lick to Miguel’s face, the dog ran off.

“Hang in there chamaco, he’ll be back soon. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Sing?” came the whispered reply after a few moments.

“Of course. I know just the song.”

Héctor took a deep breath, “Remember me, though I have to say goodbye,” He sang softly.

Miguel closed his eyes, and even though he was still in pain, he was able to smile, comforted by Papá Héctor singing the song that he had written as a lullaby for Mamá Coco when she was little.

~

Dante ran to the Rivera’s house, coaxing all the speed he could from his gangly limbs. His boy needed him, and he was going to help him. When he arrived he spotted Enrique, and ran over to him, barking with an urgency he hoped would persuade the man to follow.

“What is it Dante?” Enrique asked, startled by the xolo’s behavior, when they first agreed to let Miguel keep Dante as a pet, he had worried a bit, after all who knew what the dog had picked up living as a stray. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have anything. Enrique didn’t spend much time with the xolo, so he had never known that the xolo was capable of being anything other than a silly, clumsy companion for Miguel before that incident a few weeks ago. So naturally, considering that, this seriousness was a little concerning, The dog grabbed a mouthful of his pant leg, and tugged. When he let go, he began to whine, running a few steps away, giving a little bark, and waiting.

Enrique knew that he needed to follow the dog. Despite the fact that he could be a nuisance, it was likely this had something to do with Miguel just like the last time. Once the dog saw he would be followed, he quickly took of down the street, barking when Enrique dared to slow down any. Dante led him down several streets, and finally into a cramped ally.

“Miguel!” Enrique called out when he laid eyes on his son.

Miguel sluggishly looked up at the sound of his name, and saw his father. “Papá,” he cried out softly. That worried Enrique quite a bit, because the last time he had heard Miguel call him with that tone, was years ago when his son had been sick with an intense fever, and plagued with nightmares.

He quickly lifted his son into his arms, being careful not to press too firmly, because he was uncertain what kind of injuries he might have. He was thankful the boy weighed so little, despite the family’s, well mainly his grandmother’s, efforts feed him to what would be considered a healthy weight, and headed towards home, followed by a very worried, tired, xolo dog.

“Thank you Dante,” the man said, with a kind gaze directed towards the dog,

With Miguel safe, Héctor was pulled back into a world of white.

Chapter Text

Héctor bolted upwards, looking around. He was laid on a bed, and the room was well decorated. The bed was comfortable and familiar.

‘Imelda’s room,’ he thought.

He sat up, and had to close his eyes as he felt a wave of dizziness come over him. He wanted nothing more than to just lay back down and rest until he felt like a person again. With a groan he managed to stand, and with slow steps, so as not to fall over, he walked out of the room.

Someone had carried him here, he was fairly certain of that, as there was not even the faintest memory of being coaxed to walk into that beautiful room, actually he couldn’t remember much at the moment, but that was likely because he was little more than half awake, and whatever had allowed him to go help his boy. What he did know was that he had made a scene in the workshop, and not in a good way, so it was definitely time for him to go.

With slow, careful, steps he descended the stairs, and when he finally reached the bottom, he took a second to be proud that he hadn’t tumbled down them, it had been a fee close calls even with how careful he had been, but in the end he had made it down in one piece.

Still feeling accomplished from his successful descent of the stairs, he slowly began making his way to the door, and after fumbling with the lock for a few seconds, he had opened it, then it closed again. He frowned, that wasn’t how a door worked...was it? He had just opened it, so how was it closed now?

“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice hissed.

He turned to see Imelda standing there, regal and intimidating, gazing at him with a stare so intense he was sure it would leave some nicks in his bones.

Somehow, it didn’t matter through because, Imelda was here, and she was beautiful, and stunningly bright like the sun in a cloudless sky. He was a cloud though, a storm cloud that was fated to dim her brilliance, he didn’t belong in the same sky with her. He blinked and registered that she had asked him a question.

He tried to remember what she had asked him, and it took a moment, but he was able to recall the question. “Um out? ” he said in a confused tone.

“You faint, scaring me to death, and you think I’m going to let you go out?!”

Héctor shook his head, stumbling back a bit in response to her fury. He blinked rapidly trying to make sense of everything and failing to. “You don’t want me here though,” he said, it wasn’t an accusation, but it was something he was certain of, because why else would she be mad at him, and it had to be said because he needed to know what she wanted from him. He would do anything for her, anything she asked, because she deserved no less than that. But wait, she had closed the door, keeping him here, so maybe she did want him to stay? More importantly why was everything suddenly tilting?

The next thing Héctor knew, he was laying on the couch with his head on a, quite comfortable, embroidered throw pillow. Blinking, he noticed the wall of purple fabric, and reached to touch it, marveling at the texture of the fabric, and curious as to why it felt so familiar, and then his gaze followed it up to a milky white collar bone, and a skull decorated with beautiful purple markings, and he yanked his hand back, and closed his eyes, consequently missing the brief expression of hurt that crossed Imelda’s features, at the way he had jerked away.

“What happened?” he mumbled. Before he could get an answer he began to remember. He had been playing Imelda’s song in the workshop, and then he was overtaken by fear so powerful it made him collapse. He could remember saving Miguel or had that part been a dream? It had certainly felt real, but it wouldn't surprise him if it had been a nightmare. He had enough memories to fuel nightmares for every night of his afterlife.

“You passed out in the workshop, we tried to wake you, but you wouldn't get up. Thankfully it didn't take long for you to go still, and we brought you to the house to rest,  When you woke up you tried to leave the house for some reason, but it was like you were only half awake at the time, you started to collapse so I pulled you over to the couch so that you could rest a bit longer.”

The explanation had been unnecessary, but he appreciated it, because it helped him confirm that he had remembered correctly.

“Are you better now?” Imelda asked him.

Héctor sat up. “I feel fine,” he assured her.

“Stay with me tonight,” she said. “We haven’t shared the bed since," she paused trying to find words that summed up the events of the last two months, "everything happened.”

“If this is because of the fainting thing-” he started.

“No, I’ve wanted you to stay, I’ve wanted to share the room permanently with you for many months now, I just didn't ask you."

“Why not?”

Imelda sighed and looked away from him, before whispering, “if I didn’t ask, you couldn’t say no.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to?” he asked in a bewildered tone, it was practically a miracle that they had allowed him into their lives, and wanting him to share her room, to make it their room, was something he hadn't dare dream of.

Before Imelda could respond, Rosita came bustling into the room. “Oh Papá Héctor, you’re awake. We were so worried when you fainted-”

“Héctor, are you alright?” Imelda asked snapping him out of his thoughts.

He could tell his zone out had worried them, and he berated himself for giving them cause to worry about him even more because it seemed like all he did these days was make them worry. “I’m fine, it’s just, every time I get called that it’s still a bit shock." He admitted, because it was the truth. He had gotten good at hiding it, but it the form of address was still a shock, and this time he had been so disoriented he couldn't hide it. "I guess I just never imagined any of you would want to use that for a screw up like me.” he said with a self-deprecatory laugh.

A dizziness came over him, as he was tapped gently, well relatively speaking considering who had hit him, with a shoe.

“I’ve decided that any remarks like that deserve no less than a tap .”

“I suppose I best start thinking positive, eh?”

“Unless you want to become even more intimate with my boot, yes.”

Héctor made a show of considering that statement. “Well, I have always been a bit of a masochist, especially for you, mi amor, and to be fair, it is a rather lovely boot.” he finished with his signature cocky smile.

Imelda looked at him eyes wide with disbelief. 

“I’ve rarely seen her speechless.” Victoria observed wryly.

“I’m not speechless,” Imelda huffed. “Dinner, that’s why you came in here in the first place yes?” she asked Rosita, who nodded.

Imelda stood, and Héctor followed suit, stumbling a little as he did so. They all glanced at him, worry clearly showing, he attempted to put them at ease with his most charming smile, because really he was fine, especially compared with how he had been for the last couple of decades. For a while he had forgotten how it felt to be put together well enough that he wasn't constantly worried about falling apart, not that he was stupid enough to admit that at the moment.

Dinner was a rather silent affair, which was unusual these days, but not unexpected given the circumstances, and afterwards they went back to the living room. Imelda and Héctor sat on a sofa, Rosita and Victoria, in nearby arm chairs, and the twins and Julio on the other sofa.

“Papa Héctor, are you sure you’re alright?” Rosita asked, voicing the question that was on each of their minds.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Do you know what happened to you? I’ve never seen someone here in the Land of the Dead just collapse like that before.”

“I was playing a lovely song, written for a very strong, beautiful, amazing woman,” he started, with a sly look at Imelda.

The others smiled, and even though Imelda made a show of telling him off for such hyperbolic flattery, they all knew that she was rather pleased with his words.

“Then," he said, and the weight on the word made all of them go still, "I felt cold, it was nothing like the spasms of final death, but I was cold, and scared.” Héctor paused wondering if he should tell them about what had happened to Miguel, he was half sure that it had to have been a dream, but it had felt so real. He would tell them later, when he was certain, that way he wouldn't cause them to worry about Miguel too.

“Then I woke up and everything was really weird, and fuzzy, and I was having a little trouble remembering everything since I was only half aware. I can remember being dizzy, and next thing I know I’m lying on the couch, and when I opened my eyes, I was looking at an angel dressed in purple.” He finished, he shifted into a more comfortable position on the couch, as the thought over his words, not even realizing when he began to doze off.

~

It had been a few days since Miguel had been attacked, The first day, he hadn’t even been allowed out of bed, except for bathroom breaks, not that he had wanted to get out in the first place, everything was sore, but thankfully nothing was broken, and he was grateful for the rest. The only problem was that it left him with a lot of time to think about things.

He had been sure he was hallucinating when he had seen Héctor over the shoulder of one of the bullies, a sort of wish fulfillment after everything that had happened, but the fact that they had run when the skeleton man had attacked them, went against that thought, and he was sure it wasn’t his imagination, when Dante appeared, and seemed to see him too. Miguel wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he was grateful that Héctor had been there when he needed him.

After another day resting in bed, he had been ready to return to him normal routine, and he was grateful that the others seemed to be keeping an eye on him. Normally, he would have been irritated, because he was almost thirteen now, but after what had happened it was nice to know that his family was there for him if he needed them, and looking out for danger he might not see in time.

It was week after the attack, and he was in the plaza with his father doing a bit of light shopping. He knew it was simply an excuse for his father to spend some time with him, since normally such a task would have been allocated to someone else, but he didn’t mind. They had been walking in a comfortable silence, when he felt a sharp jolt of panic rush through him. He looked around wondering what could have caused it, but there was nothing to be noticed. There were people walking around, there was also music being played, but since the ban had been lifted he had no reason to fear his grandmother appearing out of nowhere like some kind of ninja.

Another jolt of panic ran through him, this one so much more intense than the last, and Miguel found himself unable to move.

Enrique paused, noting that Miguel was no longer at his side, when he had been a few moments ago. He looked around, fully expecting the boy to be entranced by some musician in the plaza, but a bolt of fear went through him when he caught sight of his son. He instantly rushed over to the boy, Miguel was looking at the ground, but he was shivering, despite the heat of the day.

The boy jumped as Enrique’s hand made contact with him, and Enrique was treated to a look of wide-eyed panic from his son. He pulled Miguel into a loose hug, startled at the way the boy clung to him. He guided them over to a bench that sat in the shade of a building, and pulled the boy into his lap. He spoke nonsense words to him, trying to get him to calm down, and bring him out of his panic attack.

~

Miguel was aware that he was being held by his Papá, and the next thing he knew he was in a world of white. He blinked a few times, as color began to appear in the blank space that he was in.

He recognized the place where he opened his eyes even though he had only seen it once. More importantly, he recognized the being laying on the sofa clearly in the clutches of a nightmare.

Miguel’s first instinct was to wake him up, but he didn’t want to startle the man, that could end badly considering how bad the dream seemed to be. So instead he sang hoping that a gentle tune would combat whatever it was that he was dreaming of.

It seemed to work, because a few minutes later, Héctor sat up.

“Shh, it’s okay Papá Héctor,” Miguel said in an attempt to calm him down. The boy had a feeling that the dream concerned him in some way. Part of it was how he was tugged here, there had been other times where he knew Héctor had nightmares, some of them had been so strong they were impossible to ignore, on several occasions he'd had to run to his room to ride it out, and once when he was at school he had been forced to seek refuge in the bathroom. He had never been pulled like that before though. Also, the way he was looking at him, wide-eyed and relieved, was an indicator of what his nightmare might have been about.

“Mijo,” the man whispered out, and Miguel hugged him.

The bony arms around him, were a bit tight, but Miguel didn’t mind, if Héctor would have appeared after one of his nightmares he would have held him just as tightly.

“Oh, I was so scared that it wasn’t just a dream,” the man murmured.

“I know the feeling,” the boy admitted.

Héctor pulled away a little so that he could see Miguel. “What do you mean?”

“I had a lot of bad dreams for a while after I got back home,” he admitted.

Héctor frowned.

“No,” the boy said firmly.

Héctor looked up in shock and confusion.

“I can feel you here,” the boy said pointing at his head. “It’s even stronger right now, and you were feeling guilty for not being able to protect me. I don’t blame you for anything that happened that night.”

“But I-”

“I don’t." Miguel reiterated. "You tried to help me, and even though you needed me to help you, you wanted to get me home safely so that I wouldn't make the same mistake you did by choosing music over family, and I was hurt because I didn't understand, and lashed out at you. I didn't say it before because of everything that happened, but, I’m sorry I yelled at you, and called you selfish, and said that you didn't care about me.”

Héctor sighed. “I’m sorry I left in the first place, you would have never been in that situation if I hadn’t done what I did all those years ago.”

“Please don’t be sorry for that. I mean I know you…died, and I hate knowing how and why, and how it affected our family for so long, but if everything didn’t happen like it did, I never would have met you, and I might have never understood how important family is or even wanted to play music. I wouldn't have been me. I know that it’s selfish, but I’m so happy I got to meet you.”

“Oh mijo, if that’s selfish then, I’m selfish too, since I’m so happy to have met you too.”

“Okay enough of this mushy stuff,” the boy laughed. “Mira, mira, I have something to show you.” With that he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a wallet. In it was a picture of his parents, and another of his new baby sister. “This is my sister, Socorro, we all call her Baby Coco. Sometimes I wonder if she will know her full name since nobody seems to use it.”

Héctor looked at the picture in amazement. “She’s adorable,” he managed.

“Isn’t she? She's only six months old and she’s super smart, and she loves Remember Me.” Miguel paused. “You don’t mind that I sing it for her as a lullaby do you?”

Héctor shook his head. “That’s a song I wrote for Coco, and it’s an honor to have it sung for a beautiful baby that carries her name.”
Miguel gave a relieved sigh, and Héctor realized that the boy had been genuinely worried that he would be upset that he sung the song for his sister.

“Héctor who are you talking to?” came a voice from behind them.

It was at that moment that Miguel felt the tug again. “Looks like it’s time to go,” he said a little sadly.

Héctor seemed a little sad himself, but he put on a smile. “I’ll see you again,” he said with certainty. “If they don’t put me in the loony bin,” he added with a bit of a laugh.

Miguel was laughing himself, “Well look on the bright side, if they do, you can write sequel song to Poco Loco,“ he managed to say before he was pulled, once more, into a world of white.

Chapter Text

Miguel opened his eyes to find that he was cradled in his father’s arms.

“Mijo, you’re awake,” Enrique said with no small amount of relief, arms tightening around his son.

“Sorry I worried you,” Miguel responded. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to explain what happened, because he was horrible at lying, but there was no way that he could tell the whole truth, but for now he was content to simply accept the comfort of his papa’s embrace, he would figure out what to say later.

~

Héctor looked around finding Imelda standing there with Marco in her hands. Well that explained why she was here. “Hola Imelda,” he said in an overly happy tone, with a jaunty little wave.

She was not amused. “Who were you talking to just now?” she asked.

He was just about to reply, possibly talking his way around it until he was able to provide some kind of plausible answer that would suffice, when he realized something that made him freeze.

“Did something happen?” She asked voice softer, as she saw him go still.

“Yes,” he replied softly, “can you get the others? They are going to want to know as well.”

In a matter of moments, all of them were seated in the living room. “Everyone remembers that day I passed out in the workshop, yes?”

There were incredulous stares all around, clearly asking how anyone would forget such a scene, so the answer was apparently yes. “I said I didn’t remember anything from before I woke up, and I apologize because that was a lie. Something did happen. I didn’t want to say anything in case it was just something that I imagined.”

He clenched his hands into fists as he recalled how those kids had hurt his boy. He hadn’t thought about it, given how faded it was, but when Miguel had come to him, the bruise from the punch to his face, was still there, Héctor hadn’t even realized it until he had thought about the last time he had seen the boy, and the fact that he hadn’t been thinking about it, that was enough proof for him that what happened was real and not something that he had made up..

“Héctor?” Imelda asked softly concerned by his expression.

Héctor took a breath to calm himself, and found himself unable to sit still. So he stood and began to pace. “I remember falling to the floor in the shop, I was cold and scared, and then I was surrounded by white.” he said, pulling a hand through his hair roughly, and heaving a sigh. “When I could see again I was in an alley, and I followed it out to a little clearing. There were three boys,” he growled, “I didn’t know the older two, but the third was, Miguel.

“I called out to him, but he didn’t respond to me, and then one of them hit him, and” he sucked in a breath, clenching his hands again. “They had him on the ground, hurting him, and he called out to me for help, and I ran over, I was able to touch them, and I hit them, to protect him, and kept attacking until they left. I was going to go after them because, how dare they hurt a member of mi familia, but the way he looked at me was all the reason I needed to stay. I couldn’t help him, there was nothing I could do other than stay with him. So I stayed, and he was able to call out to Dante, and while we waited for Dante to come back with help, I sang to him.

“Dante came back with Miguel’s father, and I woke up on the bed disoriented and confused. I thought that it was a dream, but today I was asleep and I was dreaming of all the things that could have gone wrong last year, all the ways that Miguel… might not have made it home, and I was terrified.” He paused trying to push the images out of his mind. “There was nowhere for me to run, and there was nothing I could do, and suddenly Miguel was here, and he still had bruises from what had happened that day. He sang to me, and helped me to wake up.”

Suddenly, he just felt drained, as though telling the story, had sapped all of his energy. Apparently, he was giving off an aura of helplessness, because before he knew it, he was caught in an embrace from Rosita. The others seemed to find that an acceptable solution since it became a loose group hug.

Héctor shivered at all the contact, his breathing sped, and he tried to keep it under control, he really did, but there was just so much contact, so much and his emotions were so out of control and he didn’t know what he was feeling at the moment he needed it to stop, but he needed it to continue forever, he wanted to pull away needed to, but couldn’t. He didn’t realize how out of sorts he was until everyone had backed away.

‘I’m a moron’ he couldn’t help thinking. Now they were going to think that he didn’t desire physical affection from them ever, and he would never have it given to him like this again. He should have soaked it up while they still wanted him like that, and then freaked out in the privacy of his room.

He found himself unable to meet anyone’s eyes, “Lo siento,” he said, trying to laugh it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m bone tired, so I’m just going to go to bed. Night everyone,” he called escaping up the stairs to his room.

“Touch deprived,” Victoria mused.

Looking up, she became aware that the others were looking at her. “That explains his reactions when he first came to us,” she continued. “ I was puzzling over it for a while. He clearly hasn’t had the easiest afterlife, even before he remembered everything else, and I don’t he has had an abundance of positive affectionate contact before he was here. At least not the way that we have been offering it.” It went unsaid that those two weeks had probably made physical contact something that was even stronger for him. “All of it just seems to have caught up to him again.”

Imelda sat down, and let that sink in. She had noticed that Héctor seemed, jumpy around them, in the beginning, but had seen that as more of a result of not knowing them. There had been plenty of touching on that day she had almost lost him forever, but perhaps dealing with the spasms of final death, colored his reaction. Since then, there had been casual touches, hugs, but never that much that soon after he was so emotionally overwhelmed with a more negative emotion. Well with the exception of their sleepover, and there had been too much going on that night without trying to think about how this piece of information factored in.

“What can we do about this?” Rosita asked.

“Exactly what we have been doing, we seem to have him used to casual touches, and even a good deal of one on one affection, but maybe that hug was just too much in such a raw emotional state.”

“We hate to be the ones-”

“-to bring this up and we are on board-”

“- for helping Héctor , but are we going to ignore-”

“-that Héctor said he was transported to help Miguel-”

“-and that Miguel was transported to help him?” The twins said.

“That is quite the story,” Julio admitted.

“I don’t know what kind of bond the two of them have, but somehow it made it possible for Miguel to come back to the Land of the Dead without being cursed,” she said to them. It was easy to forget, with everything that had followed, that none of them had been with them when Héctor was rescued . Miguel had vanished before any of the others had seen him, and were it not for the fact that she had been holding tightly to her husband she might have thought it was all some sort of dream. “We’ll talk to him about it later. If we ask now, it might make it sound like we don’t believe what he has told us, and he might start to withdraw from us, and,” here Imelda’s voice dropped to a pained whisper, “I don’t think I could handle losing him again.”

The twins sat on the sofa, one of them on each side of Imelda, and embraced her. She might rarely need them to comfort her, but when she did, they were always there for their sister.

“Any man that would make jokes about being hit with your boot isn’t going anywhere, Mamá Imelda,” Victoria pointed out.

Julio laughed at his daughter’s statement, but was quick to agree, “I couldn’t agree more mija,” Julio said with a tender gaze directed towards Victoria. He knew first hand the threat Imelda posed when armed with a shoe of any kind, one would have to be very brave indeed to joke about that or be a fool. The jury was still out on which group Héctor fell into in this matter .

“Well let’s all get ready for bed, we have work in the morning,” Imelda said,

None of them were foolish enough to call her on her bad excuse to terminate the conversation.

Chapter Text

“You’re doing it again,” Imelda said, as she took a seat beside Héctor.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Blaming yourself for something that probably isn’t your fault to begin with.”

“How did you know?”

“I know you,” she said simply.

Héctor sighed she knew his so well. “I just,” he sighed again, “sometimes I feel as though no matter what I do, and how much I love my family, I always bring trouble to everyone that I care about.”

“Héctor, I knew you were a magnet for trouble the day I met you.”

He frowned, and she hurried to clarify the statement not wanting him to become even more distressed.

“I never anticipated everything that happened to us in life or in death, who could have with all we have been through, but I knew being with you would be hard sometimes. I love you Héctor. This family wouldn’t be whole without you, and I guarantee that any of the others would agree with me when I say that we rather have you here, even with all the trouble you attract, than to not have you at all.”

He smiled at that declaration, but she could read him well enough to know that whatever was bothering him still needed to be specifically addressed.

“So that being said, what is it that you were thinking about?”

Héctor averted his eyes. “The whole thing with Miguel…” he said trailing off. “Sometimes I feel like a failure because he keeps having to save me. I literally owe that boy my afterlife, and I just keep causing him trouble.”

Once again, his self-esteem or lack thereof, reared its head.

“Héctor he loves you, and don’t forget you saved him too, and it was you that taught him the importance of family. Even if you don’t think you are important enough for him to do what he does to help you, he does. You should trust in his judgment a little more.”

He looked at her, as though he had not thought of it like that. Hesitantly, he reached out, and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She smiled happily as she returned the hug. It seemed as though it had taken forever for him to get to a point where he reached out for her without explicit invitation, she didn’t care about the hesitation, because he was reaching out, and it thrilled her each and every time.

The embrace was halted by the ringing of the telephone. Reluctantly, Imelda pulled away from him, and went to answer it.

She went over to the phone and picked it up. “Hello.”

“Is this Imelda Rivera?”

“Sí.”

“Congratulations, you have a new arrival. Socorro Rivera, is awaiting you at the Department of Arrivals.”

“Gracias, we’ll be down as soon as possible,” she said ending the call.

She smiled, having Coco in the house was sure to bring everyone into a brighter mood, especially Héctor. It was just what he needed to become a little more carefree, and he deserved that after all he had been through. She hurried back to the living room to let him know the news, and when she laid eyes on him, all traces of happiness quickly evaporated.

Héctor had curled up on the sofa, in a ball far smaller than his long limbs should allow, and he was sobbing, it was the worst that she had ever seen him, not even the series of nightmares after he had been rescued, provoked this kind of reaction.

She was torn, she didn’t want to leave him, but they had to go get Coco. A gasping pained cry had her beside her husband on the sofa. “Héctor, what’s happened, mi amor?”

“Coco-” he managed, between sobs. “Miguel found out.” Héctor clutched at his head, letting out a sound of pure agony. He was shaking with the force of his crying, his volume increasing as his hold on himself tightened.

Imelda had no idea what to do.

~

Miguel didn’t mean to cry. He had known that it was coming, had been preparing for it in the last few days because he could tell, but still, losing her hurt. Mamá Coco had been his confidant, his friend, and in recent months, his audience. His little sister would never get to know her as he had, and for her, all their great grandmother would be was a story, a bundle of memories passed down to her.

It was as much a shock to him, as it was to his family, when he first began to sob. Crying was to be expected, but the amount of grief, and the expression of it had taken them all by surprise. He left the room at that point, and was grateful that he was allowed to. He hated himself for not being happy, sure he was losing a loved one, and he was allowed to be sad and miss her, but he would see her again one day in the Land of the Dead , and Héctor, who had, had fewer years with her than he had, would be happy to be able to see her again. He was also well aware that with the Day of the Dead celebration a few months away, they would all be back to see them.

These facts didn’t help though, and his sobs came faster, and with a greater volume. He ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Self-loathing rolled around in him, and was kept company by the guilt. That was when he became aware of the emotions flowing through the bond that he now shared with Héctor. Guilt was mirrored back to him, making him feel worse because he was ruining the happiness of his grandfather’s reunion. The level of guilt was so on par, that Miguel realized that Héctor was feeling the same. Guilty because he was happy that he would get to see his child again, but that his living family had to lose her for that to happen.

Miguel cried harder, unable to get a hold on his emotions as they began to spiral out of control with Héctor’s guilt feeding his own, and vice versa, both their guilt increasing as the other felt guiltier, and both of them powerless to stop the cycle.

It wasn’t long before he had cried to the point of making himself sick, and he was just happy that he had chosen the bathroom as his place of refuge, because that meant he didn’t have far to go before he made it to the toilet.

As he gagged, he found it hard to breathe, every breath not taken by being ill, was taken by a sob, which left hardly any chance to get in a decent amount of air to continue both. He was a mess on the floor, unable to move, lightheaded, tired, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

“Oh mijo,” Miguel heard his father say.

The boy looked up.

His father bent down, wash cloth in hand, and began to wipe Miguel’s face, After coaxing the boy to brush his teeth, he led him to bed, hoping that some rest might calm him.

Miguel was still crying, and he had a headache from it, but he was too tired to sob now.

It wasn’t long before his mother joined them in the room, baby Coco cradled in her arms, crying her little heart out.

Miguel gazed at his baby sister. He wasn’t able to stop crying for himself, but for her, well he would certainly try. He held his hands out to his mother, and she gently placed the baby in his arms.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, voice rough because of all the tears, “I’m sorry for worrying you,” he added gently.

Coco quieted a little.

“Would you like the song? I want to sing it, for her, and for you. I think she would like that.”

Coco cooed, wiggling a bit in his arms.

“I can’t play the guitar this time,” he warned.

She gazed at him attentively.

“Remember me…”

~

Imelda had sent Julio to pick up his wife, and she had stayed with her husband. She had tried everything to calm him, but nothing had helped. The others had given them their privacy, using the tasks of preparing for their new arrival as excuses to leave the room.

It got worse before it got better, getting to the point that he shoved his face into a pillow to muffle the sobs tearing through him, and even with that barrier, he still was quite loud. It seemed like it would never end, but after a time it did, and he lay in an exhausted heap, tears still rolling, but lacking the energy needed to keep sobbing.

A few minutes later, he lay there, eyes closed, humming Remember Me.
~

Sorocco Rivera knew she was dead. She could tell from the lightness of her body, and the fact that she was standing unaided.

She blinked, taking in the darkness surrounding her, and suddenly she could see a bright group of lights approaching, she walked towards it, and came face to face with a large lion, whose mane was full of bright colors. There was bright yellow, blues, red, and greens, with areas of purple. A long purr rumbled as she ran her hand through the colorful mane.

The lion guided her out of the dark, and she was quickly drawn into an office where a rather bored looking individual sat behind several huge stacks of paperwork.

After that, it was a bit of a whirlwind of activity, and she was practically dizzy once all was said, and done.

~

When Pepita landed at the steps of the building, Julio quickly got off the alebrije.

“Go home,” he said softly.

Pepita seemed hesitant to obey, letting out a sad sound..

“We’ll walk, that will give everyone more time, and I know that you are worried about Mamá Imelda and Papá Héctor.”

Pepita nuzzled him fondly, before taking off for home.
~

“Ah finished just in time,” the man said, noticing a figure behind her.

She turned to see her Julio standing there, looking as nervous as the day that he had married her. She smiled brightly, as she stood. He came to her looking at her as though he couldn’t believe that she was really there,

“Eh-Hem,” the man said in a bid for their attention.

The two turned away from one another like teenagers caught kissing, and Julio approached the desk. “Would I be allowed to sign for her?”

“Normally that task falls to the head of house.”

“Sí, but…” he glanced over at his wife, “an emergency occurred right after the call so she can’t be here.”

“You have her permission to sign the forms?”

Julio nodded.

“Very well, I will allow it, and I will get the confirmation at a later date.” With that the man passed over several forms for Julio to sign. Once that was done the two of them were free to go.

They left the office, and went outside, hand in hand, with Coco’s alebrije at her other side. “You said there was an emergency, who’s hurt?”

Julio jumped. “What makes you think that someone is hurt?”

“Mamá has two great loves. Her family, and her work. She would stop work for me, as she has done before, so it has to be family related, and it has to be serious. If it was a petty squabble, it would have been set aside.”

Julio couldn’t help smiling. “I forgot how smart you are,” he said lovingly.

“Well I married you didn’t I?”

“How was that the smart thing to do?”

“I got a husband that loved me, and two wonderful daughters to cherish. I know that you are trying to distract me, so what happened?”

Julio sighed. “How much do you know about what happened last year during the Day of the Dead?”

“Miguel told me a little bit, but I know he left out a lot just in case we were overheard, and because he didn’t want to worry me.”

“Others know more of the story, but I will tell you what I know.” He started with how they found Miguel in the cemetery, and how they found out that he was cursed. How they had to search the Land of the Dead for him when he ran away.

“In the end, Mamá Imelda found him, and he was with Papá Héctor. She wasn’t too happy about that, but later in the night it was clear that there was still a lot of love between them. She sang, and when it was over, she ran to him.”

“Mamá and Papá are together again,” she whispered. Tears welling in her eyes. Leona, her alebrije, let out a purr at her side. “I’m okay, I’m just so happy.”

She quickly wiped away the tears, “what happened next?”

“They sent Miguel home,” he finished, in time she would learn the rest of that particular story, but he didn’t feel he had the right to be the one to tell her. “After that, Papá Héctor moved into the family home. He, well a lot happen after that,” he shook his head when she seemed to be about to ask him to clarify. There are some things I can’t tell you, I promised I wouldn’t speak of it, and it isn’t my story to tell. What I can say is that he has had to face some hard memories, and he’s a little broken because of it. The good thing is that he has stopped trying to pretend that everything is fine all the time, and he actually talks to us now.”

“Is what kept them from coming to get me because of those memories?”

“It has to do with it I think,” Julio said. “He was very distraught when I left though, and he was in no state to explain.”

~

Héctor knew he was asleep when he spotted Miguel. It was just like that moment before he had woken up to find himself home after being taken away, so he knew that while they both were asleep on their sides of life and death, he was well aware that this was not a dream.

“Mijo?” he called out.

Miguel didn’t move from his position on the ground, and Héctor frowned and moved closer.

He gently wrapped the boy in a hug, making sure that it was loose enough that he could get out of it with little effort if that was what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said finally.

“For what?”

“I made you unhappy, and you should be happy right now.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” he said softly.

“But I-”

“Listen Miguel, you lost someone very important to you I would have been more upset if you didn’t grieve her loss.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

Héctor tightened his hold on the boy. “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“When… when you see her, can you tell her that I miss her, and that I’ll make sure all her favorites are there as offerings during the holiday?”

“Not a problem, I’ll let her know.”

“What is it?”

Héctor sighed, sometimes this boy was way to perceptive. “The others don’t exactly believe all the things that our bond allows us to do. I don’t bring it up often, but they are a bit skeptical.”

Miguel stilled for a moment, considering that he was facing something similar himself. He couldn’t actually tell his family what was happening though, so he knew they were really worried about him after that time in the plaza. Right now though, his thoughts were abuzz trying to figure out how Héctor could prove what was happening. “I know! you can tell them something that I know that you wouldn’t, and I know just the thing. I meant to tell you, but I’m happy I forgot, cause this is something that none of them know, and that Mamá Coco does.”

“What’s that?”

“I was able to help her remember you by singing her version of Remember Me, and she still had the letters you had written to her, and she kept the torn piece of the picture.”

Héctor stilled. He couldn’t believe it, if she kept that then…

“That means…” he said in a hushed whisper.

“That means…” he said again, not quite able to finish the thought.

Miguel nodded. “Next year you get to cross just like everyone else.” the boy said.

“Miguel what is it?”

Miguel frowned, he had been hoping Héctor would be too excited to notice that he was a little worried. “Well… I was just wondering if you still wanted to cross, even though…” he broke off not able to finish.

Thankfully, Héctor got what he was trying to say, and hugged him tighter, trying to advertise how happy he was through that contact. “ Of course I still want to cross. I want to get to know all of my family, and I want to see you perform.”

“How did you- oh,” the boy said, realizing that the bond was how Héctor knew about the song he was writing.

“You know, you give really great hugs for a skeleton,” Miguel said.

Héctor laughed at that. He didn’t pretend to understand how certain things worked in the Land of the Dead, he was just happy that they did.

Miguel pulled away after a moment. “Go,” he said. “I know you’ve been waiting for a long time. I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure?”

Miguel nodded. “I’ll always miss her, but with my connection to you, I’ll know she’s safe and happy.”

“Stay out of trouble, Chamaco.”

“You too, old man,” the boy said.

Héctor mock glared at the child.

Miguel just laughed at him.

~

Héctor snapped awake. He was on the couch still, Imelda next to him, running her fingers through his hair in a rather soothing motion.

“Are they here yet?” he asked hopping up. He was bouncing with joy at the knowledge that not only would he see his daughter again soon, but that he could cross the bridge this year thanks to Miguel and Coco.

Imelda felt like she had whiplash from how rapid his emotions had shifted. “Not yet,” she said.

Héctor looked at her, then he reached out for her, pulling her into an impromptu dance, because he was simply too happy not to.

“Héctor, what’s gotten into you?” Imelda asked as they twirled around the room. She didn’t fight him though.

“Coco is coming, and this year I get to cross the bridge!” he said exuberantly.

Before she had a chance to ask how he knew that, the door opened to show Julio and Coco.

~

Before the two of them came through the door, Julio suggested that Leona go meet the other alebrijes in the back yard.

Stepping the through the door, revealed the others looking on curiously as Héctor led Imelda round the room, happier than they had seen him in a long time.

Héctor stopped when he caught sight of the two of them.

Everyone was frozen for a second before Héctor rushed over, pulling his daughter into a hug. Apologies blending with declarations of love, and how much he had missed her.

Coco for her part, simply soaked up her father’s affection. She had no doubt who he was, somehow he still looked like himself even being a skeleton, and having been taken from her when she was a child. She laughed as he scattered kisses on her face, just as he used to do so many years before. There was plenty of conversations that needed to be had, but for right now, this was enough.

Chapter Text

The man walked into the shop, it was dark and for a moment he feared that his information, information he had sacrificed a lot to obtain, had been wrong since the place was completely empty of items, and any other being aside from himself.

He walked up to the counter, and leapt back in surprise when a large skeleton that was definitely not there moments before appeared. The being was clearly female, long dark hair flowed seamlessly onto long dark robes. The patterns on her face were entrancing, swirls of silver and gold adorned her forehead, and eye sockets. Flecks of silver was seen all around her skull, making her sparkle even in the darkness.

“Why have you come here?” she asked.

Somehow the question felt hollow. Like she knew exactly why he was there already, and just wanted him to say it. “I heard tales of your… powers.”

“What is it that you wish?”

“I have… a grudge.” He held up the red and white jacket he had retrieved. “This belongs to them, and I have heard that you could help me resolve this grudge that I have.”

“What do you want done to this individual?”

“I want to make them vanish forever. To a place unknown to anyone.”

The skeleton seemed to consider. “It is within my power to aid you with this. There will be consequences, however.”

The man smiled, clearly only paying attention to the first part of the statement.

“Are you willing to pay the cost?”

“Any cost is worth this.”

“Very well,” with a wave of a hand, a scroll, and quill appeared. “Sign.”

The man signed his name with a flourish, and the scroll vanished, another, with a list of instructions appearing in it’s place.

~

“Mistress, are you certain that this was a wise course of action?” asked, Russ, the youngest of the three canines present.

The skeleton petted him fondly, “It will not turn out the way he expects,” she assured him.

“Will it not bring danger to the boy and his family?” Beres, the middle brother of the three.

“There is a chance, however, this is the best opportunity to assess his soul.”

“Why do you two always question our mistress?” the eldest of the canines, questioned.

“Ceril, it is perfectly alright that you all question me, it gives me a chance to think over my actions. Just because I see all that happens within my realm does not mean that I know all.”

“Russ, and Beres, watch over them.”

“Yes Mistress,” they said in unison before leaving.

“Ceril.”

“Yes Mistress?”

“Watch him, intervene if necessary.”

“Yes Mistress.”

~

It was early, very early, so early in fact that nobody else was awake. Coco had been awake for a few hours, and the more time that passed the harder it became for her to stay in bed and wait for everyone else to wake up. They had stayed up for hours, remembering what had been, mourning what hadn’t, and exchanging hugs and kisses, until the feast was prepared.

Soon enough, exhaustion caught up with both father and daughter, and everyone decided to retire to bed. A few hours later, Coco had woken full of energy, and ready to start the day only to find it was only two-thirty in the morning.

It was a almost five now, the perfect time to wake her parents. She smiled as she walked down the hall, not only was she walking, something she had been robbed of long ago, she had many dreams where she saw her father again, and now they had come true. Somehow she needed to thank Miguel for making sure her father had survived his ordeal, and was here for her to bond with.

As she got closer to the room, she began to question herself. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea? What if her parents weren’t sharing the room? What if they got mad at her for interrupting their sleep?

She shook her head, braids moving from side to side with the movement. She reached out, turning the knob on the door, and pushed it open. Peeking in, she saw her parents snuggled together, her mother on his right side, laying on her side, and her father was on his back, suddenly, she remembered when she was a little girl, she would do something very similar to this. Her parents bed was her safest place when she was little.

She carefully made her way over to the bed, and just as she was about to reach out to shake her papá awake, his eyes snapped open, she gasped, startled. She had forgotten his ability to wake up when she was near him, he had said that he just had highly developed papá senses.

“Is everything okay, mija?” he said quietly.

Coco nodded. “I just missed you, and I wanted,” here she paused for a moment, realizing just how childish this seemed, then she discarded the thought. She deserved to be happy and excitable now that she had been reunited with those taken from her by death, and her father deserved to see her that way. “I wanted princess bread for breakfast, if that’s okay?”

“Mmm, that sounds good,” Imelda said.

“Well, looks like, I’m making princess bread for breakfast…” he was treated to two excited gazes, and he couldn’t help adding, “that is if I can remember how to make it.”

The two sets of eyes looked at him, with a mixture of sadness, and something a little like anger.

“I was joking, my loves, joking” he assured them, “I don’t know if we have all the ingredients though.”

“Can we go see!? If we don’t have everything, I’m sure Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe won’t mind going to get whatever we need.”

It was then that Héctor remembered the fact that Coco had everyone wrapped around her finger, time may have changed a lot, but that was something that hadn’t been altered.

“Well then, let’s go see.”

Thankfully, all the ingredients were there, Imelda and Coco went to the sitting room to wait for the food to be ready, and that was where they were when the others started to come down the stairs.

Rosita started to head into the kitchen, when she heard Coco and Imelda screech “No!”

Everyone turned to the two of them in shock.

Imelda calmed herself, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her dress, before beginning to explain their reaction. “Héctor is cooking princess bread for everyone this morning.”

Three sets of eyes stared at her in confusion, but the twins both lit up. “Really!” they said in unison.

Imelda nodded enthusiastically.

“Sorry, I still don’t understand,” Rosita said.

“So Héctor makes this delicious treat, it started as something that was just for Coco, but then he started making it for us too. He would never share the recipe though, and every time someone tried to spy as he made it, he would go longer and longer without making it. Not even Coco was able to get him to make it if he wasn’t ready.”

Victoria looked skeptical about it, probably thinking that whatever ‘princess bread’ was it wasn’t worth all the fuss.

Coco stood, and walked over to her daughter. “Mija, I can see what you are thinking, and you are wrong.” Her tone was solemn, it was more than just a food item, it was a memory, one of the few that she shared with him.

Victoria pulled her mother into a hug.She wasn’t the most tactile of her family, but she had just gotten her mother back, and sometimes hugs were just necessary.

“It’s ready!” Héctor called out.

Everyone had to laugh at Imelda, and the twins, tripping, and bumping into each other in their rush to the table.

In front of each of them plates were placed, none of them looked the same , but that was clearly by design.

Imelda had something that looked like a fluffy donut, Coco, had one shaped as a heart, Oscar and Felipe had a ‘F’ shape and ‘O’ shape respectively, Victoria had a rectangular shaped pastry with a carefully crafted music note made of icing, and a little spear being shaken by a stick figure, Julio had a square shaped one with sugar crusted in a way that made it seem sparkly, and Rosita had something resembling a cloud.

Héctor placed the last plate on the table, in his spot after he saw everyone start eating. His was dark, and a lot sloppier than the others. At first glace the pastry was burnt, but a closer look showed that it was the sugar on top of it that gave it that look.

It was clear that each treat was made specific to the taste of the one eating it, and that each shape had a story to tell.

It was only as Imelda was half done with hers that she realized the meaning behind his. When they were alive and young, all those years ago, perhaps it had been meant to show his lack of skill, but now, given how much effort he had clearly put into the others it was simply one more way that made clear he still had a low opinion of himself. Suddenly she remembered something that he had said to her not so long ago. He had said that he had always felt as though he was never enough to have deserved her and all that she had given him, and that by dying, and leaving her to make her own way in the world, he had proven that his feelings were accurate.

“Imelda, is everything okay? I didn’t make it too sweet did I?”

Imelda had a moment of confusion, before realizing that he was asking why she hadn’t finished her breakfast.

“No it isn’t too sweet,” she said, taking another bite. Her voice was wrong, slightly more emotional than it should have been, she hoped that none of them noticed it.

“Héctor,” Imelda said. The way he looked at her, attentive, which was usual, and a little worried, which wasn’t quite as common, showed that he noticed. “I was just thinking that…” she paused, trying to decide how she should say what she needed to. “Well I was thinking that today would be a good day for us to have a half day at the shop. A family outing is just what we need. Come upstairs with me, I have something new for you to wear.”

Imelda led him back to their room, and what a delight it was to finally think of it in that way. She reached into the closet and pulled out a new vest, it was much like his normal one, but this one was simply a different color.

Héctor took it.

“Do you like it?” Imelda asked.

Héctor smiled softly at her. “I love it,” he said. The vest was a shade of purple that he had seen most days since he had been welcomed back into the family almost a year ago. More than that, it was the product of yet another thing that he had confessed to her while they had lain in the shelter of their bed under the cover of night. 

She had laughed at him, in surprise not meanness,  when he had confessed his urge to have a couple's outfit.

"I still think the idea is a bit silly," she huffed trying not to seem as pleased as she was at the way the vest looked on him.

He smiled happily as he led her over to the mirror. "We look like we belong together," he said softly.

Imelda rolled her eyes. "That's because we do." She turned and wrapped him in a hug so that he wouldn't notice her expression as she spoke again. "You are very important."

"Imelda-"

"Let me finish my love. You are so important to me. I hadn't even realized before this year just how much of myself I had lost when I didn't have you. I'm so happy to have you with me Héctor."

"Imelda," he started again, when she didn't stop him, he continued, "did I do something to worry you?"

She pulled away so that she could look at him. "No, it was nothing that you did, I just realized something today, and I'm trying to find the best way to make up for it."

He still seemed confused. 

She smiled, smoothing the wrinkles that she had caused by hugging him. "Come on, we best get downstairs, some work needs to be done today."

It was more than clear that she was avoiding his unspoken question, but he had the feeling it was because she wanted him to figure it out himself. Perhaps she felt that were she to tell him that it would mean less than if he were to discover the answer on his own. "Héctor?" He reached for her hand. Feeling a surge of happiness when she placed her own into his. "Let's go," he said and with that they headed back to the others..

Chapter Text

Miguel woke up with a start, something had woken him from a deep sleep to instant awareness, and it took mere moments to figure out what had done it.

He was no longer safely tucked into his bed, he was in the Land of the Dead, but Héctor was nowhere near him, and he didn’t even recognize anything because this was somewhere that he had not been before. The boy gasped when he noticed that others could see him. Now he knew that he was not here for Héctor, because others didn’t see him then, and he hadn’t crossed over in any way, he had been asleep for goodness sake.

Thankfully, Miguel had been cold before falling asleep, likely a product of the rather bad cold, he insisted that was all it was his parents, however, they thought that it was the flu, but that was of no importance at the moment, his illness had kept him home from school that day, and so he had worn the warmest item of sleep attire that he owned. That happened to be a black cat onesie. Secretly he loved the thing, but seeing as he was no longer a little kid, he didn’t wear it often.

Pulling up the hood on the onesie up, in an effort to hide his face, he ran. He was hoping to find somewhere he recognized or at least a secluded area of some sort. Everything was so blurry, though because his fever was making him so dizzy, maybe his parents were right and it was the flu after all, and thanks to the dizziness he was unsteady on his feet.

Despite the warm clothing, the boy shivered, “I wanna go home,” he mumbled, just needing to say it, just so that anyone listening would know that he hadn’t meant for this to happen. He coughed, wincing as it made his body hurt, it took a while for the fit to stop. Even with the fit robbing him of the ability to breath properly, he kept moving. Even though he could hardly see where he was going, and he didn't even know where he was, he kept forcing his feet to move, he knew he needed a place to think and rest, someplace that would keep him from running into someone that he never wanted to see again.

~
Héctor straightened as though he had been struck by sudden realization of something important. His attention was solely on whatever had occurred, and his eyes far away as something that was elsewhere stole his focus.

“Héctor?” came the concerned voice of Imelda.

Héctor realized he was being watched. The family had been watching a movie, all of them seated on the furniture that had been rearranged into a semicircle around the screen of the television, and Héctor had placed himself on the sofa between his wife and his daughter, because he could, and that was a miracle in and of itself.

But right now there was someone that needed him more than they did. He rushed outside, looking for Pepita, but she must have been elsewhere, because he couldn’t spot the large cat anywhere in the yard. “Call her,” he said to Imelda, who had followed him outside.

His voice forestalled her questions, and she did as he asked because he hardly ever demanded something of her. The few times he had was for the sake of Coco, he had, of course, asked things of her now and then, and she was eagerly awaiting when that would become normal for him once more, they were getting to that point, but were not quite there yet. .

Pepita landed in front of them, sending up a gust of wind that ruffled their clothing, and nearly made Héctor lose his balance, due to how quickly she had done so.

“I need you to help me,” Héctor said. The feline read the situation quickly before bending low, so that he could climb on.

Imelda climbed on behind him, and Héctor didn’t bother to argue knowing that all it would do is waste time.

They flew swiftly, Héctor guided by the invisible link he shared with his grandson. He wanted to be wrong, wanted this panic to mean something else, to mean anything else, but he had never had much luck in situations like this.

“Héctor?” Imelda asked again, after they had been flying for a little while, the way she said it putting so many questions into his name.

“He’s scared,” Héctor said promptly. “Miguel is here, and alone. He’s scared, I can feel it. It’s washing over me, and filling me with fear.” He startled a bit, before blinking rapidly. “Land here,” he said, and Pepita rumbled under them, as she voiced her understanding.

Once they were on the ground, Héctor closed his eyes, he felt for the bond, but it was weakened somehow, and harder to grasp. Fear was certainly playing a part, maybe putting up an unintentional mental shield of sorts, but that couldn’t be all there was to it. Even being asleep would not cause this, as dreams were sent over the link at times, so it had to be a combination of fear and something else distancing Miguel’s thoughts.

When he opened his eyes, he was near a darkened alleyway, he couldn’t see anything in it, but his senses was telling him that this was the place. It scared him that Miguel didn’t seem to be aware of his presence.

Looking back he saw Imelda and Pepita, his wife opened his mouth to speak, but he shook his head.

“Well everyone knows Jaunita,” he sang softly. He didn’t look back to see the aghast expression that would surely be on Imelda’s face. There was a reason that he had chosen that song though. It was the first song that Miguel had heard from him, It was a calm song, and one that wouldn’t startle him. It was one, nobody else would know meant anything to the boy.

“Her eyes each a different color. Her teeth stick out, and her chin goes in, and her... knuckles they drag on the floor.”

“Those aren’t the words,” a soft voice called out in a whisper.

“There are children present,” Héctor answered.

Suddenly, a blur of dark fabric rushed into his vision, and collided with him. He barely had time to steady them before his vest was being soaked in saltwater.

“It’s alright now, chamaco, shhh, everything’s okay now.”

“Let’s get him home,” Imelda said softly. Between the two of them, they managed to get the boy onto Pepita. None of them noticed a set of dogs slipping back into the shadows.

~

The ride home was tense. Miguel had quickly given in to sleep, feeling safe with his relatives. Unlike his first trip to the Land of the Dead, he was not turning into a skeleton, which seemed to indicate that he wasn’t under a curse, which they were both grateful for, but the boy, a less than a month from officially being a teenager, was far too warm. Heat radiated off of him, and his breathing was slightly labored. Ending up here, couldn’t have helped his current condition either.

What seemed an eternity later, they landed gently in the yard. Héctor knew they would have a problem getting Miguel into the house, the boy was skinny, something that had clearly been passed down from Héctor, but in the state of being alive there was a lot of weight, and it had been a struggle to get him on Pepita, and the large cat could take the boy no further because of her size.

Héctor looked around, and then spotted Elias. “Elias,” he called softly, so as not to spook him.

The antlered head rose, and the alebrije’s eyes met his.

“Would you help me get him into the house?” Héctor asked.

The deer walked over, graceful as ever, and laid on the ground in beside Pepita. Imelda helped him take Miguel and transfer him to the deer’s back, and he could see her frown as she felt the heat radiating off the child.

Once Miguel was safely on Elias’s back, Imelda on one side, and Héctor on the other, in case Miguel began to slip, they walked into the house.

The rest of the family was still there waiting. They had been very worried when Héctor had taken off in such a hurry, and they wanted to be there when he got back. Their eyes widened as they recognized the figure on the back of Julio’s alebrije.

“Miguel,” Coco whispered as she came forward.

“What has the boy gotten himself into this time, “ Victoria said, with a worried frown.

As Coco, and Héctor helped Miguel to lay on the sofa, Imelda answered the question. “I don’t think that this is his doing, mija. He is still alive, although he is very ill, that leads me to believe that he couldn’t do anything to get himself cursed at the moment.”

Victoria nodded, her grandmother was right, there was no way that Miguel had the energy to do anything stupid that could cause him to get cursed, and having gone through what he had, it was likely the boy wouldn’t do anything like that again, especially considering that he got to see them often enough as it was.

That raised an important question though. “If he isn’t cursed, how are we going to get him back home. A blessing lifted the curse last year, but if this is something else…” she trailed off.

“There is no use thinking like that,” Imelda said. She wasn’t ready to consider the fact that her grandson would be stuck here forever even though he was not dead like them. “We just will have to wait, perhaps when he wakes up he can tell us what happened.”

Héctor was dimly aware of the conversation around him. His main focus though, was on Miguel. They had situated the boy so that he was laying on the sofa, with his head on a large pillow that resided on Héctor’s lap. His body was covered with a large blanket that someone had gone to get.

Miguel’s dreams must have taken a turn for the worse because the child began to breathe a bit harder, and he began to make soft whimpering sounds.

Héctor made quite shushing noises, but they didn’t seem to register. So he changed tactics, and began to hum a soft melody. It was something that he had been working on for a while, a completely new song for someone very important to him. He even had a rough draft of the lyrics.

Miguel seemed to calm, and rolled onto his side so that he was almost touching Héctor. A smile came over his face, and Héctor kept humming.

~

Miguel woke to the sound of humming. at first he thought that someone was going to get in trouble because of the music ban. Everything was a bit fuzzy in his memory, then he remembered where he was, and what had happen in the last nine months. He sat up so fast he made himself dizzy, and for a moment it felt like he was going to be sick.

He took a few breaths, and managed to make the feeling go away. A hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, and a gentle voice was whispering, “you’ll be okay, it’s alright chamaco, shhh you’ll be alright,” again and again.

“Papá Héctor?”

“It’s me, mijo.”

Miguel relaxed. He remembered everything now, he had woken up in the Land of the Dead lost, alone, and afraid, but if he was with his family now, he had nothing to fear. He would be safe here with them until he got home. Hopefully it was before sunrise since there was less of a chance that someone would notice that he was gone, if he got back before then. He didn’t want to worry anyone like he had before, they had just stopped looking like he was going to disappear every time that he was out of their sight.

Slowly, so as to not make himself any dizzier, he shifted until he was leaning back into the soft cushions on the sofa. That alone sapped most of his energy, he barely had enough left to turn his head to the side so that he could look at his grandfather.

“Hi,” he said.

Héctor gave him a goofy grin. “Hi,” he said back to him.

“I feel like Pepita has been tapdancing on me.”

Héctor burst out laughing, and Miguel, sick as he was, smiled happily. It became even funnier still when the big cat looked through the doors that connected the house and the yard.

“I don’t think that is one of her many talents,” Imelda said. Miguel looked up at her. She had her arms crossed, but she was smiling just a bit.

“Do you tap dance?” the boy asked.

“No,” she answered curtly, “but your Mamá Coco did.”

Miguel looked at her, she was still standing behind her mother as she had been, she had been laughing at the nonsensical conversation, and when Imelda said those words he was treated to watching his great-grandmother, fiddled with the hem of her clothing like a little kid caught doing something wrong.

“You knew about that?” she asked.

“Of course I did, I know everything,” Imelda asserted.

it was clear that she meant that she had known all about that particular situation, but now that they were on better terms he couldn't resist teasing her a little. “Mi amor, you know a lot, much more than i ever will, but you most certainly do not know everything.”

“Oh really?” she questioned him going along with the joke, much to his delight.

He nodded.

“For example?” she asked.

Héctor smiled. “Like what Ceci sent me as a present for the party.”

She frowned. He was right, she didn’t know what the dressmaker had sent him. After all that went on that night, he’d ended up taking some of his presents upstairs with him. He hadn’t shown her what it was. “Alright, alright, you win Héctor, i don’t know what she gave you, but I will,” she promised.

Héctor felt the dual sensation of winning and losing. He should have said something else.

It was then that Héctor realized Miguel hadn’t said anything, the boy loved making fun of him, and this was perfect time for him to do that, and when he looked over he noticed that the boy had fallen asleep again.

~

“Miguel,” a voice called. He opened his eyes, to see the world blurring around him.

Everything was glowing… no he was.

“You’re going back,” Héctor said. Miguel nodded, he knew it was true. He felt safe, somehow he knew that this wasn’t dangerous.

“See you later,” Héctor said.

“Bye,” be boy said. Then right before he vanished he added, “I love all of you.”

Then he was gone.

~

Miguel woke up in his room. His body was still achy, but he got up anyway. He really needed to go to the bathroom. It was like he had been frozen in some way as far as certain function were concerned. After a few more hours of rest, and some soup that his grandmother had made for him, he was feeling better than he had since he had first started getting sick, it seemed like he was truly on the mend, and he was equally happy that nobody, besides Dante, who was currently sleeping on the floor beside the bed, had seemed aware that he had been transported away during the night. Part of him was worried about what would happen if whatever it was that had taken him in the first place tried again, but he was comforted by the fact that even if it did happen his family would be there to help him once more.

Meanwhile somewhere in the Land of the Dead

Stupid spell.

Well if he was honest, and he could be honest, at least with himself, he would admit that, it wasn’t the spell that was at fault. Well mostly, because the print with the relevant details could have been a little bigger. He just should have paid more attention to the conditions though. Yes he had in fact dragged the boy here, and the jacket was in his possession, but he had failed to take into account the boy’s connection to his family.

The next time he would have to do the summoning closer to the Rivera household. That way he would be able to grab the boy before his family could get him. sure it would be a bit risky, but he was willing to chance being caught, his revenge was worth the risk. He would plan far more carefully this time, wait for the perfect moment and then, when the time was right, he would strike. A wicked grin came over his features at the thought of his success, because he knew that he wouldn’t fail again.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since his unexplained trip to the Land of the Dead. Miguel still didn’t know what had caused him to go there that night, but he felt a mix of happiness and dread, and he knew that the dual sensation was not only his own feelings. On one hand, it was good that whatever or whoever hadn’t tried again, but on the other hand whatever or whoever could.

Miguel tried his best to ignore the unseen threat, but it was hard given that he could potentially be ripped away at anytime. He was more worried for his family than for himself. They still looked at him with gazes holding worry and fear when they thought that he wasn't looking at them, and it had almost been a year since that day, so he knew that were he to vanish again, for an unspecified length of time he’d worry everyone, and he would worry his little sister, who had quickly become someone that he never wanted to hurt in any way shape or form.

He could feel similar thoughts coming from the bond he shared with his grandfather, and it was only a matter of time before the worry consumed them both. Then one day, as Miguel was getting ready for school, he felt a wave of elation pass through him, and he couldn’t help being far more cheerful than was normal for a school day.

“What did you do?” Elena had asked when he had walked in for breakfast, thrilled as the day he had learned that the music ban had been lifted from the family.

“Nothing,” he said innocently, because it was true, his good mood wasn’t because of anything that he had done.

Rosa looked at him and rolled her eyes, clearly suggesting that she believed that he had lied, and badly at that, and he just shrugged, and shoveled some food into his mouth. It wasn’t like he could say, his long forgotten, recently restored, ancestor had a telepathic connection with him, and he was currently in such a good mood that he couldn’t help passing it on. They’d never believe anything he said ever again if he told them that.

~ 

Héctor was excited there was no denying it. He fluttered around the house so enthusiastically, no one could be faulted were they to think that he had gone out and raided every ofrenda for alcohol. He was completely sober, however, and the current high that he was on was nothing more than the feeling of love within him.

“Hello my beautiful wife,” he said brightly, giving Imelda a gentle peck on the cheekbone.

“Good morning, mi idiota,” she returned. That insult might as well have been a sonnet whispered tenderly, for all the extra pep it put into his movements. Imelda sighed, trying and failing to act like she was not amused. Even so, her husband was radiating so much energy, she became tired just watching him.

“What has you in such a good mood today?” she finally asked.

“Love,” he said before skipping away.

Sometimes she just didn’t understand him, but at least he had been able to escape the cycle of fear and distress, that had entrapped him, because of the thought that someone was capable of yanking Miguel from the safety of his living family, and into this world in order to do something to him. The fear of knowing that something would happen, and that there was nothing that he could do other than wait for it to happen plagued him. Although she had to wonder what it was that was able to strip him of it in the way that it had.

Héctor had been nothing, but afraid, and not even the sleep rotation was enough to take the feeling away. Not even the newest episode of the Bold and the Restless was enough to take his mind off of it for too long, but last night, which had been his night with Julio, and the man had reminded him of the idea they had come up with so long ago.

~

A week later, Imelda got to the point of extreme worry. The past several days had been filled with a happy, but tired Héctor. At first she was thrilled, because there had been something to distract him, but it had gotten to the point that she was scared that he was running himself a bit ragged, which was silly, because it wasn’t like he could do anything that would prove fatal, seeing as he was already dead to begin with.

“Héctor,” she started one night as he lay next to her in bed.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed tiredly, turning his head so that he was looking at her.

And wasn’t that just like him, he was practically asleep, but her utterance of his name was enough to get her his attention. “Are you alright?”

Héctor blinked a few times to wake up a little. He saw the concern in her face, and it was more than enough to pull him into more acute awareness.

“I am more than alright,” he assured her. “What makes you think that something is wrong?”

Here, she was glad for her inability to blush because, when she thought about the reasons she was worried they seemed trivial, however, she had learned her lesson about letting things fester, nothing good came from avoiding conversations like these. “Since last week, you’ve been oddly happy, but really exhausted. It’s been months since you have been this tired, and I was afraid for what that might mean. I have also noticed that you’ve been venturing away from home, and that’s… unusual.”

“Imelda,” and she couldn’t help relaxing at the sound of her name, in his voice, because as always, he had a way of infusing it with a kind of calmness that was hard to resist. “I’ve been preparing something. A surprise.”

“Will I like this surprise?”

He had a brief moment where he thought about saying that ‘it was to die for’, but then he thought about just who he was talking to, and thought better of it, he had more sense than enough sense to see that it wasn’t the right thing to say. Instead he went with, “What makes you think that it’s a surprise for you?”

“If it was for anyone else you would have me helping you.”

And that was why she was the brains of their marriage. “It’s just something that Julio and I have been thinking about for a while, and he decided that now would be a good time, but…”

“Héctor what is it?”

He gave a sheepish laugh. “I was so excited about all of the planning for this thing, who I was going to get things from and how I was going to make it happen, I almost forgot how… uncomfortable I get when I leave home. I kept Marco with me, of course, and I’m sure I saw Pepita following me every time i ventured away,, but I still felt… wary”

Imelda was well aware of the circumstances that led to that, but she had little idea what to do about it. He was obviously very excited about whatever it was that he was planning. So much so that he was willing to do something that made him uneasy just to achieve it, so she couldn’t exactly suggest that he stop and simply stay home or tell him to forget about the surprise, altogether. Naturally, she wanted to, but a the same time it was a good idea because he needed to lose some of that fearful caution. He needed places outside of the home, that he felt that he was safe. At the same time, that very thing filled her with fear. What if she were to lose him again? Could he survive yet another horrible thing happening to him, and still trust, still love with the same capacity?

She couldn’t voice any of that, however, because her thoughts were so conflicting that she could barely make sense of them herself, let alone voice them to him. Instead she said, “You never did answer my question.”

He looked at her a bit puzzled before remembering that he hadn’t answered her question. “I hope you will,” he answered.

That told her more than anything that she would like it.

~

It was the Riveras day off. One of the few days a year that they closed the shoe shop, and simply bonded as a family, Imelda knew that there was something going on when she woke up alone. There was a note on the bed in Héctor’s steady handwriting.

Imelda,
Your surprise awaits you outside in the yard, but you have to dress for the occasion. In the closet you will find something new, and special. It would give me great pleasure for you to wear it.
I love you,
Héctor

Just as she was about to check out what kind of crazy bit of attire Héctor wanted her to wear, her daughter bustled into the room, it reminded her so much when she was young.

“What is it, mija? She asked when Coco ran up to her, bouncing in place like an excited puppy.

“Did Papá leave you a note?”

Imelda nodded. “I just read it.”

“Julio left one for me too,” Coco said, showing it to her mother. The note simply told her to visit her mother.

Imelda figured that they would get answers if they went to the closet, and that was that they did. In the closet were two dress bags, they took them down, and laid them on the bed. Imelda unzipped hers first, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. The dress was a work of art, like something from a fairytale.

It was a very pale lavender, so gentle and subtle that it gave an airy tinge, which flowed effortlessly into the soft fabric. Slowly, she pulled it out, shocked at how light it felt in her hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Coco whispered.

“Will you help me get dressed?”

Coco nodded.

“Will you do the same for me?” she asked, nodding at her own dress on the bed.

“Of course.”

~

Once they were dressed, they made their way down and into the yard. It had been utterly transformed overnight. A long carpet had been rolled out, starting in the living room, and cascading out the double doors, and out into the yard. A small quartet was set up a few steps away from the carpet. Flower petals had been scattered along the path, the twins, Victoria, Rosita, Ceci, Gael, Richard, and all the alebrijes, including the police chief’s winged panther, and Richard’s alebrije, were waiting alongside it. Seeing Marco there, in his medium size, with streaks of purple running through his fur was a clue that something big was happening.

“Stop here hemana,” Felipe said.

Only the shock of seeing the two arbors, one dressed with purple roses and the other with white carnations, accounted for why she obeyed him.

The breath, that she didn't need to take, was stolen when Héctor and Julio emerged from the shed. They both were wearing suits, Héctor's had a purple rose attached to the lapel and Julio had a carnation.

Julio went to the arbor with the carnations and Héctor walked towards them. He offered his arm to Coco, and with tears in her eyes she took it. There were no word exchanged between them, there was no need. They both saw this for what it was. A miracle. Something that was happening because of the love of their family.

The small band of musicians started to play as they walked and Imelda couldn't help crying as she realized what was happening. Héctor was getting to do yet another thing that had be stolen from him because of his untimely death, he was getting to walk his daughter down the aisle.

“Don't cry hermana, you have to look pretty for the pictures” Oscar told her in a tone that was aiming for teasing, but it lost effectiveness because of the tears in his own eyes as he watched Héctor place Coco's hand into Julio's.

“Callete,” she said to him in a tone that carried no bite whatsoever.

After he was done leading Coco, Héctor went to the arbor with the roses. The music started anew, this time the light sound was slightly different in a way she couldn't pinpoint.

She was in a daze as her brothers, one on either side of her, walked her down to Héctor. The long train of dress effortlessly followed behind her, giving the illusion that she was gliding. Two hands placed hers in Héctor's and suddenly it hit her.

This smiling, handsome, goofball of a man was her husband. He was hers in a way no other ever had been or ever would be. He was the love of her very existence. She had doubted him; she had failed him, and still he loved her. No matter what she did, he had never blamed her, never hated her, never replaced her. She was his as much as he was hers, and in that moment she needed him to know that. To let him know that she would never stop trying to be a better person, a better wife, mother, and sister, because she wanted to prove that she was worthy of such a love. She needed to promise that she would not fail him as she had before. She needed to convey that he should not fear losing her because as long as he needed her, wanted her, loved her, she would be tied to him more securely than any physical link could ensure. In love she was bound, but she was a willing captive who dreaded release. She wanted him so much that sometimes it scared her. He saw her as such a strong person, could he still see that in her, and view her weakness without becoming disappointed?

She looked at him, searching for any hint of doubt in what he was doing, any clue to suggest that he would regret this affirmation of the vows they had take so long ago. All she could see was love. Love for her, for their family, for being here at this moment with all of them.

When she was asked to speak her renewed vows, she knew just what to say.

~

Everything had gone to plan. The dresses were beautiful, he had know that Imelda would look perfect in anything, but the dress, with its modest v neck, wrist length sleeves, had looked amazing on her. Its bottom had gently brushed the ground, and the long cape-like train, had made her look like she was royalty. She had also pinned her hair up, but had allowed some of her grey-streaked hair to hang loose, and it was all he could do not to mess up any of the hard work that everyone had put in. He wanted nothing more than to simply gaze on her, and do nothing else, but he knew he couldn’t. He had a dream to make come true, and with that he had turned to his daughter.

Coco was stunning as well. Her dress was square cut at the neck, in a style not unlike her mother’s casual dresses, if not a bit more modest, it was off white with embroidered with flowers, the dress hung down to the ground obscuring her footwear, and she had allowed her long hair to come out of their usual braids, and fall down her back restricted only by a large clip.

He knew that he had gotten her down to Julio, and then Imelda, guided by her brothers was coming towards him, and it was beautiful. He had no words, and all he could do was watch and simply assure himself that this was real, he was with his family, and that he was loved.

Everything was perfect, and in a way that was scary, because whenever something was that good, something bad was around the bend, laying in wait to steal it away. He wished that he could have been wrong this time.

~

They were all distracted, too happy to notice him, now that the reception was in full swing, and this was perfect. Skulking in the shadows, in a way that had started to come easier to him, he made his way to a secluded alley. He pulled out the paper, and the jacket, unaware of the eyes that had been watching him since he had ventured from the hovel he now resided in.

The spell was simple, and was done in a matter of minutes. Soon the boy would be in his clutches, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

A sinister smile spread on his features as he imagined the torment that he would soon inflict.

~

If asked Miguel wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what they had over in school that day. He was high on second hand happiness, and so focused on trying to hide that, that his concentration, wasn’t really there in any of his classes.

None of his teachers called him out on it, and the only reason that he could think of for that bit of luck was that he had been so ill, such a short time ago, that they were attributing his actions to getting better, and not to a different type of distraction.

From the amount of happiness he was feeling, he knew that Héctor’s plan had gone well. He had done what he could to help out, Héctor’s worry had joined their dreams the past few nights, and they had talked about everything, from the dresses, and suits, to the flowers, and music.

Ever since the music ban had been lifted, he had been going to the music room, after school, to learn more about music and instruments, he could only hope that things would settle down soon so that he could focus on that at least. That didn't happen so he decided to go home after school. He wasn't too upset though, because Héctor deserved some happiness after everything that had happened to him. 

When he got home, Miguel hid out in his room, with Dante. Everyone had been surprised that he came home so early, but he made sure to keep his eyes down, as he told them that he was tired. It was true, but the smile he could feel on his face might have given the impression that he was lying. When he was in his room, he wished that he could sleep, but the fact that Héctor was still riding high, was keeping him awake. He wasn’t upset or anything, but it was getting rather hard to explain to his family why he was so happy when he claimed to be tired, whenever a member came into his room to check on him. Music might have been his go to excuse in this situation, but he couldn’t use that when it had been so many months since the ban had been lifted, and he had skipped class after school. He was still thrilled about the ban being lifted, but not so much that it could explain away his current emotions.

That being the case, he was wide awake, a few hours later, when a magical air started to surround him. Dante began to whimper and paw at him, but there was nothing that Miguel could do. Before he could even reassure his furless companion, he was being transported.

This time when he landed, he at least knew where he was. He was close to his family’s home. Before he could run in the direction of the house, a hand gripped him. He was about to scream, when he was tackled by a winged panther. He landed on the soft fur of Marco, who was behind him. He didn’t know the alebrije that had tackled him,, but he could sense it’s protectiveness, and if he was traveling with Marco, it must have been safe to rely on him.

From the sky, Pepita dove down, landing in front of them. With this onslaught of alebrijes, there was no chance he could abduct the boy, and the best he could hope for was a safe retreat. With a silent growl, he began to run.

Pepita gave chase, but he had planned an escape route, he had planned to have the boy with him, but he would just have to try again.

Pepita growled when she lost sight of the one that had attempted to hurt a member of her family. Her tail lashed from side to side, with the anger. With a graceful leap though, she flew back to Miguel.

The boy was being fussed over by Marco, and Jaquez, and Pepita did her own check, before nuzzling him.

“Thank you,” Miguel said, a little shakily, given the scare he had just had.

Miguel made his way, with his glowing entourage in tow, toward the house. Héctor was there in the yard, looking relieved, Miguel ran to him.

Miguel cleared his throat, and moved out of the embrace, when he saw all the people watching. Most were familiar faces, Gustavo, and his band, the Riveras, and Ceci. The only ones he didn’t know was a tall skeleton, that, now that he really focused on him, looked a lot like Héctor, and a skeleton with a suit, who looked like he felt that he didn’t quite belong here. “I just wanted to be here for the big day,” he joked.

It wasn’t a total lie. He had wanted to be here, but the method left a lot to be desired.

“What happened, mijo?”

Miguel sighed. He knew that tone, and knew he had to tell him now, even though he wanted to wait. “There was this shining light and then suddenly I was here. Someone tried to grab me, but I didn’t get a good look, before that alebrije tackled me, and Pepita chased him off."

“Good job, Jaquez,” the person that Miguel didn’t know said.

Héctor noted Miguel looking curiously at the Police Chief, so he figured it was time to make some introductions. He put the fear that today might have been the day that he lost Miguel away as best he could, and pulled up a smile. “Miguel this is my friend Gael Garcia, Gael, this is my grandson Miguel.” They shook hands. Miguel couldn't take his eyes away for a moment, still a little stunned at the resemblance to Héctor  

“And him?” Miguel asked, pointing at the other unfamiliar person.

“Ah, that’s Richard, he catered for us, but he’s a bit awkward in social situations.”

“You’re one to talk,” Miguel said to Héctor remembering some of the things Héctor had done the night they had met.

Héctor made a show of being wounded at such a statement, manly because he knew how true it was, being awkward was practically a defining character trait for him.

Half the people in attendance rolled their eyes at his overreaction, also because they knew how true it was.

Oscar and Felipe, both placed hands on their brother’s shoulder. “Hermano, you know what you have done today?” Felipe asked.

“Remarry the woman of my dreams?”

Oscar nodded. “ You have also signed yourself up for of being teased for the foreseeable future.”

Héctor looked comically surprised. He ran over to Imelda. “Say that it isn’t true.”

She sighed dramatically, “I will not lie to you, my husband.”

“Betrayed,” he whined loudly, throwing himself at Marco and burying his face in the alebrije's soft fur.

Marco let out a sort of laughing yip, and all the alebrijes began to crowd around, including Jaquez, and a goat that shared a name with the one he guided. Thusly covered in alebrijes of varying size, Héctor said, “At least the alebrijes care about me.”

Under the jovial tone the evening had taken, the unease of Miguel being pulled here still lingered, but for now, everyone was determined to set those thoughts aside, and enjoy the rest of the celebration.

Chapter Text

Miguel was so busy watching Héctor be dramatic that he didn’t notice the person that had come to stand beside him until he was wrapped up in a hug. “Mamá Coco.” he said happily, as he hugged her.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Suddenly, an upbeat song was being played, and Coco smiled at Miguel. “Dance with me?” 

Miguel nodded, and they went to an empty part of the yard to dance. 

The song had just finished when Miguel heard a loud bark. That was the only warning he had before Dante barrelled right into him, and knocked him to the ground.

“I’m okay, Dante,” Miguel said as he pet his guide.

Dante then proceeded to slob all over him, and then step back as though to survey his work.

Marco took this chance to tackle the xolo, and with one last look at his boy, Dante scurried off to play with the wolf.

Miguel got up, and turned back to his dance partner. “Another dance?”

“I think there is someone else who wants a turn,” Coco said.

Héctor stood there, and Miguel laughed. The boy ended up dancing several times with each member of his family before the night was over. When the party concluded, he lay in an exhausted heap on the sofa, and as he slept, he was transported back home.

Thankfully once he got back, it seemed nobody had seemed to notice that he had vanished, and all he could do was thank his lucky stars for that, the last thing he wanted was to worry someone. This was the second time this had happened though, and after having so much fun at the party, he couldn’t help being scared. 

Someone was taking him to the Land of the Dead against his will, and he could feel that that very someone wanted to hurt him. He had his suspicions about who it was, but there was no way for him to be certain, and the last thing that he wanted to do was open that can of worms unnecessarily. With a sigh, he decided that, however scary it might be, he just had to wait and see what happened.

~

Another failure. He had one more shot at this, and he wasn’t going to screw it up. This time he would wait for the perfect chance to strike. He could be patient. He had all the time in the world.

~

The Day of the Dead was fast approaching, and Miguel couldn’t help being so excited that the worry he had about the mysterious kidnapper was put to the back of his mind. He wondered if his connection with Héctor would allow him to see his dead relatives when they crossed over this year. He was also looking forward to the music since some of his cousins had learned to play instruments.

“What do you think?” he asked his sister.

She was almost one, and she loved when he sang, and danced for her. Like the woman she had been named after, she was his favorite test audience.

Coco clapped, and babbled. She couldn’t use words yet, but Miguel knew she understood a lot. After setting aside his guitar, he kissed her face, and she giggled happily.

“Thanks for listening,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. It was almost time for her to eat, and he always volunteered to feed her. It was fun, and she was hardly ever cranky, especially if he talked to her as she ate. 

He knew that the bond between he, and Coco was a bit closer than some siblings, but he couldn’t help it. She was his little sister, and he would always be there for her no matter what.

After feeding her, and making sure she didn’t need to be changed, he took her to the nursery for her nap, and sang to her gently until she fell asleep.

~

Héctor was hyper, like a child on a sugar rush. For the first time ever, he would be able to cross the marigold bridge. It was an amazing thought. Like some kind of dream come to life, and his mood was just plain happy.

The others were all happy for him, even if the thing he was ecstatic about was something that they had come to see as normal. It was easy to not think about just how much that torn photo had stolen from Héctor, but he wasn’t even upset about it at all, he was just thrilled that he could be with his family both living and dead for the duration of the holiday.

“Morning!” he said cheerily as he entered the kitchen for breakfast the day before the holiday. Then he showered Imelda, Coco, Rosita, and Victoria with kisses.

The twin pouted. “No kisses for us?” Felipe asked with a pout.

“He doesn’t care about us,” Oscar lamented.

Héctor rolled his eyes, and then with the most comically put upon expression to ever cross the face of any human in existence, he gave each twin one kiss on each cheek.

The twins then pretended to pass out from the shock.

“You are all ridiculous,” Imelda said, shaking her head fondly at their antics.

Then, in unison, they all turned to her and said, “but you love us anyway.”

Imelda rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother trying to deny it, because she did love them, no matter how goofy they were. Then she smiled because they were so silly, and after all that had happened since this time last year, it was wonderful to see.

“Are you alright, Imelda?” Héctor asked.

She blinked and nodded. “I’m fine, mi amor.”  Héctor still seemed concerned, and much to her embarrassment, the others seemed to be concerned too. Just what expression had she been making to deserve that kind of response? “I was just thinking how happy I am to have my family,” she said. Instantly everyone understood what she meant, and each of them took a moment to be grateful that they were together. 

“Hermana?” Felipe asked.

“Yes?”

“Can we take a day off from the workshop?”

“That may not be such a bad idea,” she said surprising everyone. “Did you have something planned?”

“There’s a place we want to take everyone,” Oscar said.

Héctor smiled, he knew just where they wanted to go. It seemed like today was going to be a fun day.