Welcome Back, a coco fanfic

Guess who just got into Coco? Yours truly! It is AMAZING! I wrote up this little one-shot. Hope you like it!

Little to no spoilers for the movie, BTW.

I don't own Coco. :'(

"Miguel!" a sharp, American voice rang out through the jungle.

A young man in his late twenties glanced up from the large paper map he was holding and looked around the trees, trying to locate the source of the call. Only thick trees, vines, and bushes met his vision. He shrugged and glanced back down at his map.

"Miguel Rivera!"

This time the young man did look up, brushing his thick locks of raven black hair back under his wide-brimmed hat.

No one was in sight.

Sighing, he once again turned his attention to the map.

Something flicked his hat.

Jumping, the young man clamped a gloved hand atop his head and spun around, heart pounding in his chest. "Who's there?" he asked, his thick Mexican accent showing through his speech.

No answer.

The young man took one last sweeping glance before cautiously returning to the map. His hand remained clamped on his hat.

"Miguel!" someone shouted just as she dropped from a tree branch and dangled upside down in front of him.

The young man—Miguel—jumped backwards and fell down, trying in vain to scoot away from the threat.

The "threat", a young woman roughly the same age as Miguel, dropped down from her perch on the tree branch and nimbly landed on the ground. She laughed and brushed a strand of blond hair out of her face. "What's wrong, 'Guel?" she asked in a taunting tone, her eyes twinkling. "Scared?"

Miguel laughed nervously as he stood up from the hard ground and dusted off his pants. "Me?" he asked in an equally teasing tone. "Scared?" His face quickly turned serious. "What are you doing out here, Joan? It's dangerous. I thought that you had gotten hurt or lost!"

Joan shrugged and brought out a digital camera from her bag slung across her shoulder. "I can take care of myself, you know. But I found the most amazing bird! It may be a new subspecies of parrot!" she held up her camera screen to reveal a large bird perched on a tree branch. Its colorful feathers seemed to glow. It reminded Miguel of the spirit guides back in the land of the dead. "I think we should follow it!"

Miguel shook his head. "We are already lost, Joan. We should stay where we are and make camp. We shouldn't go trekking into the jungle in search of a parrot."

Joan shook her head. "This is a once in a lifetime chance, Miguel," she countered. "We could be famous for discovering a new species of bird!"

Miguel chuckled. "We are already famous for guitarra. You do realize that you are married to a world-famous celebredad, si?"

Joan chuckled. "Yea, yea, but I still think we should go." She pulled her back on her back and started for the thicker parts of the jungle. "C'mon," she urged. "How do you Mexicans say it? letso goso?"

"Vaminos."

"Yea. That." She disappeared into the jungle.

Miguel sighed to himself, but followed. He smiled as he trailed behind his American wife, watching her blond ponytail swing back and forth with every step as she mimicked bird calls. He remembered the day he first met her. He remembered how he gave her directions to a hotel only to find that the hotel was closed. Not having a better option, Miguel invited her to his home. It was a shock for him to bring home an American girl and his family were very surprised, but they warmed up to her personality very quickly. They even started dropping hints that Miguel had a girlfriend.

In time, Miguel learned that she was a zoologist and had come to study the local wildlife. She needed a guide who could speak Spanish and he was quick to take the job. The two spent much of their time together and quickly learned of their feelings for each other. A wedding and fiesta was soon to follow.

Now, two years later, Miguel and his wife were trekking through the amazon jungle in search for a mysterious parrot. Never mind that they were lost from the rest of the group, nor that they only had limited supplies. As Joan would say, it was all part of the adventure.

"Miguel," Joan whispered urgently. She pointed to a tree.

Miguel squinted. Sitting on a branch, preening its feathers, was the same parrot from the picture. His eyes widened. It looked exactly like a spirit guide.

His mind flashed back to something Hector had told him years ago when he was first learning to hear the voices of his dead ancestors whispering their wisdom in his ear.

"Those who see their spirit guide are those who are about to die."

A tree branch snapped behind him.

He turned around and gasped. A large, hungry jaguar was mear feet away from where he and his wife crouched. Its muscles rippled under its spotted coat as it crouched down, ready to pounce.

"Joan!" Miguel shouted, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her to the ground just as the big cat leapt. It flew over them, scaring the parrot away and grazing his shoulder. Miguel hissed in pain and grasped the bleeding wound.

"Are you okay?" Joan asked, fear tinting her voice.

Miguel nodded, muttering a Spanish curse under his breath.

He slowly started to get to his feet.

Joan screamed.

Miguel's head whipped to his wife, trying to figure out what was wrong, when a large mass of teeth and claws knocked him over and tore at his skin. He didn't have time to scream. He could hear his wife screaming his name as wave after wave of pain washed over his body. Black edged his vision. It seemed like hours before the large mass was lifted off his chest and an angry yowl tore through the forest. Heavy paws padded away from where he lay, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Miguel?" a scared voice tore through his consciousness. Joan's dirty form stepped into his vision. Tears were running down her face as she reached for her first aid kit. "Stay with me, okay?" she commanded, a scared edge to her voice. "I'm not losing you yet."

It took a mear five minutes full of agony for Joan to patch up her husband and get him on his feet.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Joan cried as she helped him back through the forest. "We should have just stayed put like you said. None of this would have happened. It was that stupid bird. It was all that bird's fault." She was near hysterics.

Miguel held a single, bleeding finger to her lips. "Esposa," he whispered in a hoarse voice, wincing in pain as he did so, "this was not your fault. We'll be okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Joan nodded, though she did not seem convinced.

A yowl ripped through the forest.

They both froze.

"He's back," Joan whispered as she looked around the jungle. "Oh gosh he's back."

Miguel nodded and pointed to a clearing. "Go that way," he ordered. "There's a bridge. We can get to the other side and cut it." He looked his wife in the eye. "We will be okay. I promise we will make it."

Joan nodded and the two rushed to the rickety rope bridged spanning a rocky canyon. They both hesitated at the edge. Miguel carefully put one foot down on the bridge, wincing as a loud creak broke the silence. An even louder yowl followed as the jaguar lept out of the jungle. Blood stained its fur, claws, and teeth as it snarled menacingly at the two.

"Go!" Miguel shouted, urging his wife onto the bridge. He followed her every footstep as she ran onto the bridge, jumping over broken boards and doing her best to ignore the every creak that followed.

The jaguar was only two feet behind.

"Hurry!" Miguel urged as he risked a glance behind him.

The jaguar was closer.

Suddenly, the boards beneath their feet gave way, plunging the two travelers and wild beast into the canyon. Miguel barely managed to grab hold of the frayed ropes and his wife's hand.

"Joan!" he called, glancing down at his terrified wife. "I've got you!"

Joan looked up at her husband, tears glistening in her blue eyes. "I don't want to die," she cried. "I don't want to go like this!"

"We aren't going to die," Miguel assured her. "Just hang on." He searched the area for a way to escape, but found none. He could feel his hand slipping.

They were going to die.

"Joan," Miguel called down to his wife, a single tear running down his cheek. "I love you."

The rope slipped from his grasp and Miguel felt himself falling….

Falling…

…only to hit a soft, cushioned ground that seemed to envelope him and bend around, covering him in a light and airy blanket.

Miguel paused, the shock and fear slowly washing away to reveal confusion.

What happened.

A sudden burst of memory hit him.

Falling.

The jaguar.

The bridge breaking.

Joan.

Slowly, Miguel pried his eyes open. Everything was orange.

Orange?

Confused, he slowly pulled himself up and let orange petals roll off his body. He looked up at the dark, blue sky.

Sky?

His vision drifted downwards to see large buildings rising up against the dark backdrop. Colorful, twinkling lights dotted said buildings.

Miguel's heart both lept and fell.

He was in the land of the dead.

A thought hit his mind. He held up his hand and pulled off his brown glove. An ironic smile pulled at his lips as he stared at his skeleton hand.

A groan brought him back to rality. Miguel rushed to the small pile of orange petals that was shifting and falling away to reveal a young but still remarkably beautiful skeleton woman. She slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Miguel?" she mumbled sleepily. "Are you there? What happened?"

Miguel held out a hand to help her to her feet, the same smile pulling at his lips. "I'm here."

Joan took the hand offered to her and let him pull her to her feet. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus. "Where are…" she started, trailing off as soon as she saw a lengthy skeleton standing in front of her and holding her hand. Terrified, she did the only thing she knew to do.

She screamed.

Miguel winced and pulled back, covering his ears in hopes of blocking out the ear-piercing noise. "Joan!" he yelled. "It's alright!" he clamped a bony hand over her mouth. "It's me, Miguel."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, but finally her breathing evened out. She nodded slowly but still stood glued to her spot as Miguel slowly removed his hand.

"Are you going to scream again?" Miguel cautiously asked, hands hovering near his ears.

Joan shook her head.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Miguel gently wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in his arms, offering as much comfort as he could. "Remember the story I told you about visiting the land of the dead?" he asked.

Joan slowly nodded, unsure of where he was going.

"That story was true. This," he waved a bony arm around the city sprawling in front of them, "is the land of the dead."

Joan's scared expression was quickly replaced by that of curiosity as she strayed a few feet away from the comfort of her husband. She stared out at the lights, dozens of questions flying through her mind. "So…" she slowly started, "we died?"

Miguel nodded.

"And now we live here for the rest of our lives. How long to we live after this?"

Miguel moved to his wife's side. "As long as our family remembers us," he answered, a wistful tone in his voice. "Some of us have been here for ages. Others…" he trailed off, remembering the man Hector had introduced him to. He could still picture the expression on his face as he faded away from the afterlife. It left deep imprints on his soul.

An excited bark broke through his thoughts. Miguel gasped and whirled around, grinning as he did so. "Dante!" he gasped as the colorful dog bounded towards him. Dante jumped on his friend, knocking him over and covering him in licks. His scrawny wings fluttered in excitement.

Joan crouched down to scratch the dog on his bald head. "This is the street dog you mentioned, right? Your spirit guide?"

Miguel nodded, trying in vain to shield himself from the barrage of love. It was at that time when a colorful bird zipped overhead and settled on the ground in-between the two. It was the parrot.

Joan gasped and angrily stomped over to where the bird perched. "You," she angrily yelled. "You are why we are here! It's your fault we're dead! You mangy, flea-bitten, little..." a string of creative curses followed as she launched herself at the bird, intent on killing it with her bare hands. All the while, Miguel followed her and tried to explain that the bird was actually her spirit guide.

Dante sat and stared, watching the three run around in circles. He smiled to himself. He was glad he didn't have to be that woman's spirit guide.

After Joan had mostly made peace with the spirit guide, she and Miguel wandered down to the front office to register. The registrar was shocked at their calm reactions to the situation and—being used to traumatized clients ready to up and leave-recommended several different counseling offices. Miguel quickly assured him that they would be fine but never the less thanked him for the offer.

That being done, Miguel suggested that they have a look around the city. Joan was eager to agree with the idea and the two spent several hours looking around. It was mostly Joan dragging Miguel from one sight to another and peppering him with questions about the afterlife and the land of the dead. Miguel answered all the questions he could, not wanting to admit that she had stumped him on several topics.

Despite Joan yanking his arm out of its socket several times that evening, he was glad that she was enjoying it so much. He half expected to die from old age and meet his wife in the afterlife. He expected to be greeted by great-great-grandfather Hector and his great-great-grandmother. He expected to join them and his grandmother Coco and to live with them for eternity. He never expected to be married to an American woman, though. He never expected to be trekking through the amazon jungle. He definably never planned on defending the life of his wife's spirit guide.

It was all new to him.

"What was it like when you first came here?" Joan asked as they weaved through a crowd of chattering skeletons.

Miguel shrugged. "Pretty much the same, honestly," he admitted, "only Ernesto de la Cruz was big then. I don't know who took his place." He looked up at his wife but quickly realized that she was gone. He smiled and shook his head.

That was when he heard her scream.

Miguel scanned the crowd and quickly ran towards the noise. He pushed past several skeletons walking by, knocking heads off their bodies and occasionally yanking limbs out of place in his rush. He looked up just in time to see something flying towards him. Out of instinct, he easily caught it and glanced down at the object in his hands.

A head stared back at him, eyes wide with fear.

Miguel looked from the head to Joan and back. "What did you do?!" he gasped.

Joan shrugged, avoiding the wandering skeleton that blindly felt its way around the plaza. "I don't know," she admitted, "I just ran into him and his head came off and I caught it and it scared me and I threw in away and you caught it and—" she paused for breath before pointing to the disembodied head with a shaky finger. "Do all skeletons do that?"

Miguel nodded. "Most of the time," he admitted. He turned his attention to the head in his hands, turning it around so that he could look it in the eyes. "I am so sorry about this," he apologized. He stopped short as realization dawned on him. "Hector?" he gasped.

The head in his hands gave him a quizzical look, studying his face. "How do you know me?" he challenged.

Miguel almost laughed with surprise. "You don't recognize me? It's Miguel!" He quickly tossed Hector's head to his body, a grin spreading on his face.

Hector screwed his head on properly and squinted at the young, handsome man in front of him. "Miguel?" he asked, shocked. Laughing, the lengthy skeleton rushed and embraced his great-great-grandson. "I didn't recognize you!"

Miguel smiled and hugged him back. He pulled away to look Hector in the eyes. "I missed you," he admitted, trying to hide the tears of joy.

Hector grinned and looked the young man over. "Look at you!" he gasped. "You've grown up!" his eyes drifted to the young lady standing next to him. "And there's a Mrs.?" He asked.

"Hector," Miguel started, gesturing to his wife. "This is my wife, Joan."

Joan waved.

Hector's grin only grew and he playfully elbowed Miguel in the shoulder. "I knew you would someday find a wife," he laughed. He pointed to the tram. "Come! You must say hi to your family! They will be glad to see you again!"

The three quickly boarded the tram, all the while happily chattering about recent events. Hector's face quickly grew serious as they sat on the cushioned seats. "Where have you been?" he asked. "For the past five years I have come to visit you and you are not home."

Miguel guiltily avoided his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been busy," he admitted, "going on tour and helping Joan with her studies. I try to make it back home by that time but sometimes I don't get the chance or my flight gets delayed."

Hector shook his head in disgust. "Miguel," he started, resting a bony hand on the young man's shoulder, "doesn't make the same mistake that I did. Family is precious. Don't spend your time chasing music. Spend your time chasing family. It is more precious than money itself."

Miguel nodded, still avoiding his gaze.

"And another thing," Hector continued. "Why are you two so young? I know that when you die at an old age you eventually look younger as time progresses but you two are still young adults! What is it that happened?"

"It's a long story," Joan admitted.

Hector glanced out the window of the tram. "We have time," he decided.

Miguel spoke up. "We were in the amazon jungle," he told the skeleton. "We were looking for some rare parrot but ran into a jaguar that attacked us. We tried to escape it by crossing a bridge but the bridge broke and…" he trailed off, the memories of the event vividly repeating themselves in his head. "…I guess we fell. It will probably be a few days until our families find out."

Hector was silent. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. "What a horrible way to go," he whispered to himself.

Miguel and Joan sat in silence.

No one said a word until the train came to a stop.

"All off for Churro Street!" the conductor shouted.

Hector stood up from his seat and gestured for the couple to follow him. They passed several colorful houses, each decorated for the day of the dead. He finally stopped at a particularly large house painted a vibrant blue. Bright lights shone through the windows as several loud voices slipped out into the street, echoing off their niegbors houses.

Hector strode up to the door and gave three short knocks.

"I'm coming!" an angry voice called from inside the house. "Be patient!"

The door opened to reveal Miguel's great-great-grandmother. She glared angrily at Hector. "What do you think you're doing here, now? Didn't I send you out to the market?"

Hector nodded. "Yes, you did," he confirmed, "but I ran into some folk on the way there." He grimaced and felt his skeleton head. "Literally."

The feisty lady peered around Hector, expecting to see one of his friends who didn't have a family to go home to. Instead, she saw a handsome young man and a beautiful young woman standing nervously in the distance.

"Hola, Abulita," Miguel greeted nervously.

Her angry expression was quickly replaced by a huge grin as Miguel's great-great-grandmother rushed to embrace the young man in a bone-crushing hug. "Miguel!" she gasped. "You are here! And dead! What a surprise!" she pulled back to look over the handsome man. Her eyes drifted over to Joan standing behind him. "And what a beautiful young lady! Miguel, you chose well!" she gently smiled and studied her odd clothes. "What is this you are wearing?" she questioned.

Joan looked down at her clothes and smiled. "Carhartts," she easily answered in her thick, American accent.

The grandmother cocked and eyebrow.

"It's an American thing," Miguel quickly filled in with a small smile, breaking the awkward silence.

She considered the topic for a short while before urging the two into the house, claiming that they would catch a cold.

Hector tried to point out that skeletons can't catch colds, but she would have none of it.

Inside was a brightly decorated apartment complex. The main room had been adorned with bright paper flowers, colorful streamers, and other beautiful decorations. In the kitchen, several of the family was busy cooking up dishes upon dishes of fresh Mexican food. The spicy scent filled the kitchen.

"Abulita," Miguel gasped. "This is muy bien." He ran and embraced her. "Gracias!"

She laughed. "It was nothing," she assured him, "we just wanted to welcome you back to the land of the dead."

The rest of the evening was filled with the sound of lively chatter, eating, and laughing as the whole family sat down to one of the biggest feasts Miguel had ever seen. As the evening wore on, the family retired to their rooms one by one until only Miguel, Joan, their grandmother, and Hector were left in the richly decorated room.

"We have a surprise for you," Hector announced suddenly, getting up from his seat.

"Si," his wife agreed. "Since you will be staying here for a very long time, we figured you two might like your own room."

They both led Miguel up several flights of stairs and passed several doors. They eventually came to the top of the tall building. A closed door painted in rich, beautiful colors stood in front of them.

"Is this…for us?" Miguel asked.

They both nodded.

Slowly, Miguel opened the door and gasped. A small living room welcomed them inside, merging with the dining room and kitchenette. Past that lay a larger bedroom built for two people with a balcony overlooking the glittering lights of the city.

"Gracias!" Miguel grinned. "I did not know you wanted us to stay here so badly!"

Hector smiled. "You are family, Miguel," he reminded the young man.

After several thank yous and goodnights, Miguel and Joan retired to their room. They were both exhausted from a long day.

"Miguel?" Joan asked as they climbed into bed. "Do you think your family…likes me?"

Miguel nodded. "Did you see their faces when they met you? I think they were as impressed as I was when I first laid eyes on you. You nearly blinded me with your beauty."

Joan laughed as Miguel leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Besides," Miguel added, "we're going to be here for a long time." He leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "You're family, Joan. Family is more precious than gold."

FLUUUUUUUUUUUUUFFFFFFFF! I needed fluff! Anywho, please favorite and review! Did you like this? Would you like more Coco one-shots? Fun fact: Carhartts are a great brand!

I really enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoyed reading it! Until then,

May the Force be with you!

-Spector7 out!