"She's...forgetting me," Héctor stated, his shoulders slumping as he shrank into himself. He knew it was a matter of time that he would one day be forgotten, but he didn't realize it would be so soon. He certainly didn't expect his little girl to be the one forgetting him, he had thought that maybe it would be one of his younger descendants that forgot him. But no, it was his own child's memory of him that was fading away.

"Who?" Miguel questioned curiously, crouching down beside the old skeleton.

"My daughter," Héctor answered, bowing his head in sadness. He may not have a heart anymore but it felt like he did as the pain in his chest grew. It was a familiar pain that he knew all too well by now. It was one he felt whenever he went to see his wife and she turned him away harshly, cursing him out. It was the pain of heartbreak.

Miguel finally understood. He thought that Héctor just wanted to cross the bridge to see the living world one last time, he never imagined that it was because Héctor had a child on the other side. "She's the reason you wanted to cross the bridge," Miguel quietly observed. He could feel his heart go out to the other male. He couldn't imagine being forgotten by the one person that he cared about most but in his current situation, he might find out sooner than he hoped.

"I just wanted to see her again," Héctor whispered as he glanced over at the young boy beside him. Despite the growing sadness within him, he could also feel a surge of anger well up inside of him. He shook his head at himself and bunched up his old bones into fists before letting them helplessly drop back into his lap. "I never should have left Santa Cecilia."

Héctor could still feel the anger towards himself for the mistakes he made, for leaving his family when he shouldn't have. But the sadness inside him was overwhelming. It felt as if every bone in his body ached like he could care less if he turned to dust at that moment. Maybe that way, he wouldn't have to live with the guilt and pain any longer. "I wish I could apologize," he admitted softly. "I wish I could tell her that her Papá was trying to come home. That he loved her so much," Héctor continued, the image of his little girl coming to mind as he spoke about her once again after so many years. "My Coco…" he muttered pressing his boned lips tightly together as he closed his eyes. It's been over ninety years since he last saw his baby and the image of her in his memory got a little more fuzzy with each passing year. In all honesty, he would rather be forgotten and experience the final death instead of forgetting what his Coco looked like.

Silence stood between them for a moment as his words hung in the air. It felt like forever since Héctor was able to bring up his daughter to anyone and here he was, spilling everything to this young boy. Maybe it was because they were both in helpless situations or maybe it was because Miguel reminded him of Coco. So curious and full of life, yet stubborn to the very end and loved with every fiber of their body. Héctor loved those traits in his daughter and it seemed that this twelve year old boy had those same traits. Perhaps that's why the two of them got along so well - because Miguel needed someone to guide him and Héctor needed someone to look after.

"Coco?" Miguel questioned, beginning to put the pieces together. Maybe he had been wrong all this time, maybe de la Cruz wasn't his great-great grandfather. Maybe it was the man that sat right in front of him. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest as he reached back into his pocket and carefully pulled out the photograph of his family members, silently observing it for a moment. The ripped piece at the top where his great-great grandfather's face should be, could it possibly be Héctor's face that should be there instead of de la Cruz's? There was only one way to find out. Miguel swallowed thickly and outstretched his arm, offering the photo to the skeleton in a gentle manner.

Héctor glanced up at the young boy before his gaze was cast downward to the picture in the small hand. He carefully it took it from Miguel's hold and turned it around to see what it was that the boy wanted him to see. Once the picture was right side up, he felt like his heart had stopped at that moment, despite it having stopped long ago. What he held in his hand was the last picture he had taken with his wife and daughter before he went to go on the road with his best friend. There in front of him was his little Coco, looking back at him with that same innocent look that he adored so much. And then there was his beautiful wife, Imelda, staring back at him with that powerful gaze that would send shivers down his spine. Héctor couldn't even bring himself to care at the moment that his face had been ripped off of the picture, all that mattered was that he was able to see the family he had left behind so many years ago.

"Where...where did you get this?" Héctor questioned, his voice breathless, not being able to take his eyes off the photograph.

Miguel carefully watched his reaction during the process, seeing the older man's eyes widen when he realized who the picture was of. He nervously licked his lips and reached over, pointing to the young child in the picture before moving to the woman holding the child. "That's my Mamá Coco. That's my Mamá Imelda." Miguel paused for a short second before moving to point at the ripped piece, his heart racing more than it ever had before. "Is that...you?"

Héctor still hadn't looked away from the photo yet as everything fell into place. This young boy that he had spent all night with, the one he had taught how to perform in front of a large crowd and the one he had sung with up on stage...this same boy was his great-great grandson. He had a family, a much larger one than he had ever imagined. His Coco had children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. His daughter lived a full life with her family. And Miguel was part of that family.

The older male finally tore his gaze away and looked up at the living child in front of him, hope filling his eyes for the first time in many years. "We're…" He started, almost as if he were hesitant. "...family?" Miguel said the word with him and it made Héctor smile. For the first time in ninety years, he had someone who seemed to actually want him in their family. He wasn't disappointed that Héctor was his great-great grandfather. He assumed that Miguel would be disappointed since he seemed so invested with de la Cruz, who was a famous musician and had anything he could possibly ask for while he himself was a rundown musician that had nothing but the clothes on his back. But that wasn't the case and that meant everything to the old skeleton.

Miguel could feel the corners of his own lips pulling upwards into a small smile, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He had finally found the missing person in his family, he finally knew where he got his interests from. He had always felt different from his other family members and now he knew where he got it from. It all came from Héctor. Everything suddenly made sense, he understood now.

He watched as Héctor sadly looked back down at the picture, the happy realization that they shared the same blood slowly disappearing. He saw the older male gently stroke his thumb over his Mamá Coco's picture, a gentle look in his eyes. Miguel listened intently as he heard Héctor speak once again. "I always hoped that I'd see her again. That she'd miss me. Maybe put up my photo." Héctor's voice was quiet and soft as he spoke, yet his voice turned sorrowful as he bowed his head again. "But it never happened."

Miguel stayed silent as he listened intently to Héctor, paying more attention to him than he has the entire night. "You know the worst part? Even if I never got to see Coco in the living world, I thought at least one day I'd see her here. Give her the biggest hug." Héctor smiled a little at the thought of being able to hold his daughter again, to wrap his arms tightly around her and never let go. But his smile faded quickly as the realization of reality came to his mind. "But she's the last person who remembers me," he sighed as his shoulders fell in disappointment. "The moment she's gone from the living world…"

"You disappear...from this one," Miguel finished in shock, feeling that heavy weight settle back down on his chest again. He couldn't lose Héctor, not now when they've just discovered that they were family. "You'll never get to see her," he added as he felt his own heart break. He wanted Héctor to be able to see his family again and he wanted his great grandmother to be reunited with her Papá. But the situation they were in, neither of those things were going to happen.

"Ever again," Héctor correctly, feeling more forlorn than he ever has in his entire life and death. He felt like he wanted to cry over the fact that his daughter would probably live the remaining years of her life and her years in death thinking that he had abandoned her. But he had to remember he had his twelve year old great-great grandson with him, he shouldn't be dumping these depressing facts onto the child. He tried to think of a happy memory to tell him so they weren't in such a dark mindset. "You know, I wrote her a song once. We used to sing it every night at the same time. No matter how far apart we were." Héctor looked at the picture of his Coco with a fond expression, recalling the look on his little girl's face every time he sang her their song. "What I wouldn't give to sing it to her one...last...time."

Héctor took in a deep breath before he began to quietly sing, his voice echoing in the small sinkhole that they were currently stuck in. "Remember me. Though I have to say goodbye. Remember me. Don't let it make you cry. For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart. I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart." He remembered the last time he sang this to Coco and he could practically see his baby girl swinging her little legs back and forth as she sat on the bed like many times before, listening to him sing the song to her. "Remember me. Though I have to travel far, remember me. Each time you hear a sad guitar." In the back of his mind, he could hear his child's small voice singing quietly along with his own. "Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be. Until you're in my arms again. Remember me."

The entire time, his eyes were glued to the photo in his hands but he let the picture hang limply in his grasp after he finished singing. Miguel could see the broken look on his ancestor's face and he suddenly felt anger well up inside him. It wasn't fair that this happened to his family all because somebody wanted to be famous. It only made him even more upset when he realized he had wanted to become that somebody at one point in his life. But everything had been a lie. "He stole your guitar. He stole your songs. You should be the one the world remembers, not de la Cruz!"

Except Miguel didn't get the agreement he was looking for. Instead, he saw his great-great grandfather shake his head firmly. "I didn't write Remember Me for the world. I wrote it for Coco." Héctor looked back at the picture one last time before turning his attention to Miguel, feeling crestfallen. "I'm a pretty sorry excuse for a great-great grandpa," he voiced his opinion in a depressed tone. If he hadn't gone off with his then best friend to make music, maybe their family wouldn't be so against music and everyone would be happy instead of torn apart.

"Are you kidding?" Miguel was stunned, walking around so he stood in front of the skeleton that he called family. "A minute ago, I thought I was related to a murderer. You're a total upgrade." He grinned, trying to be convincing but he only got a look of doubt in return. So instead, Miguel decided to go at it from a different approach, crouching down in front of Héctor. "My whole life, there's been something that made me different. And I never knew where it came from. But now I know. It comes from you. I'm proud we're family!" He claimed, pushing himself back up to his feet.

Once those words left his lips, he knew they were truer than anything else he has ever said in his life. He was proud that Héctor was his family. He was proud that the older man had gone through so many struggles in life and was still able to find things to smile and laugh about. He was proud that he had someone he could relate to, that he had somebody to look up to. He was proud of it all.

Miguel quickly turned on his heel and ran straight towards the water, throwing his arms up in the air and kicking the water up in the air. "I'm proud to be his family!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing as he let out his best grito. They may have generations separating the two of them but they were family. Nothing could ever change that.

Héctor stared in awe at the young boy who truly showed enthusiasm that they were related and he couldn't help but feel a surge of power run through him in response. Hearing Miguel shout at the top of his lungs in excitement forced Héctor to his feet and let out a shout of his own, joining Miguel's. "I'm proud to be his family!" Héctor yelled before letting out another holler, both their voices echoing around them.

Once their shouting faded away, Héctor could see the younger male visibly deflate and he felt his shoulders fall in response. They may be family but they were still stuck. By the end of the night, he would probably face the final death whereas Miguel would probably be a skeleton. There was nothing else they could to fix the problems that they set for themselves. It was over. At least, that's what he thought until he heard a howl in the distance.

Miguel perked up and took a few steps further into the water, both he and Héctor looking up at the entrance of the sinkhole. "Dante?" Miguel questioned quietly, wondering if maybe he had heard wrong. But he knew he heard right when a dog appeared at the entrance and let out a happy bark. "Dante! It's Dante!" Miguel laughed happily, looking back at Héctor who had a smile on his face as well.

Then, an alebrije landed beside Dante and let out a shriek of its own, causing water droplets to fall down on the boys. Both of them know whose alebrije it was and although Miguel laughed and wiped the water from his face, Héctor could feel himself getting anxious. Soon enough, Imelda's face came into view as she sat on top of her alebrije's back, a smile on her face at the sight of Miguel safe and alive. But her face instantly turned sour the moment she saw who the boy was with.

"Imelda," Héctor greeted cautiously, a nervous smile on his face as he looked up at his wife.

"Héctor," Imelda spat out, seeing her husband in the same exact stance as their great-great grandson had been only hours before; his left hand reaching over and grabbing his right wrist, hoping to look innocent. It only made her think about how similar the two boys were.

"You look good," Héctor complimented, hoping to soften to blows that were sure to come once they got out of their current situation.