Chapter 1.

Héctor woke up dead.

He remembered the feeling of dying, a sharp pain in his stomach and a burning in his throat and lungs. He remembered the taste of blood in his mouth, and dirt where his face pressed into the ground as he slumped forward. I just want to see them again, por favor.Then, nothing. A blessed numbness spread through him, and his eyes drifted closed. When he opened them again, it was to a brightly painted calavera, eyes and smile impossibly bright as she loomed over him.

"Hola, señor! Welcome to the Land of the Dead!"

He should have been panicking. He should have pleaded that there must have been some mistake, that he couldn't be dead, he had to go home to see his familia. Instead, he felt a hollowness inside, and he sat in stunned disbelief as the woman continued speaking.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, señor, and we at the Department of Family Reunions are prepared to help you in any way we can. But first, fill out these forms, por favor, and then we'll see about notifying your family."

He took the clipboard and pen she offered him, and she shuffled off to speak to another new arrival, sitting dazedly a few chairs over from Héctor. He now realized he was in some form of waiting room, sitting in a hard-backed wooden chair, surrounded by skeletons. He glanced numbly at the objects in his hands. His metacarpals glistened white, just a shade darker than the paper. He swallowed, and felt the clacking of bone where there used to be skin and flesh. Panic threatened to loom, before the hollow feeling overcame it once more. I'm dead… he thought, and began to write.

Name, age, cause of death… Food poisoning, he wrote, and then – chorizo. Family, he left blank, having never known his papá, and having no memory of his mamá, who died when he was still young. The only family he had was – "Ay dios mio, Imelda," he breathed. He had yet to mail her his latest letter, consisting of all the coins he had earned from his and Ernesto's performances, and a promise to come home soon. He had thought to surprise her in person, and now, she would be waiting on a husband who could never come home. And Coco…

"Disculpe, señora," he raised his head, and the skeleton who had first greeted him flitted back to his side. "Could you tell me what day it is, por favor?"

"Of course, señor. You were one of our late night arrivals; it's just after midnight now. December 8th, 1921."

He thinks he might have thanked her, before she turns to help another new arrival. His thoughts were stirring rapidly, and he felt sick. It was December 8th.

He'd missed Socorro's birthday.

Socorro Rivera turned four years old today. Her mamá woke her up with a song, and a promise to make all of her comidas favoritas for dinner that night. Her Tío Óscar and Tío Felipe played with her all afternoon. Her mamá gave her new ribbons for her hair, and she held Coco in her lap while she braided them in, humming Coco's song all the while. It should have been the perfect day.

But her papá had not come home. Papá had sent Coco so many letters, poems and songs that he wrote her, all of them signed, Love Papá. Her mama read her every letter out loud, and Coco kept them all, folded up beside her bed. He sent letters to Mamá too, letters that Coco wasn't allowed to read but that never failed to make Mamá smile, or blush, if only for a moment or two. But most of the time, mamá was sad. And Coco was sad, too. She missed her Papá.

She wanted her Papá to come home.

Ana Ofelia Murguía, who voices Mamá Coco in the movie, was born on December 8th. The Coco wiki tells me that Héctor died sometime in December, just after his 21st birthday. It's my own personal head canon that the night Héctor decided to go home, he was just trying to get home in time for his daughter's birthday.

Because apparently I like making myself even sadder.

As always, any mistakes made belong entirely to me. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism on your way out. Or, feel free to join me in my feels over Pixar skeletons.