Hi! I got so many requests for another Coco story after my last one, My Proud Corazón, but I didn't know what to write about - until I came up with this idea. I hope you enjoy. This one might not seem long right now, but this one will be multi-chapter, so you'll get even more of this story than you probably would ever want. Have fun! Oh, and by the way, even though the picture is the same, this story isn't connected to My Proud Corazón.

(Disclaimer: Coco is the property of Disney and Pixar - not me.)

Chapter 1:

Stories Come to Life

"You remember the story?" Miguel said, his sister Coco sitting on his lap. Just a few feet away was the ofrenda table, with pictures sitting in a pile next to a few plates of food and a pile of marigold petals.

"Sí, but I want you to tell me again," Coco said. "Please?"

"Okay, okay," Miguel said. He didn't mind telling the story again anyway - the more remembering he could do, especially on Día de los Muertos, the better.

"A long time ago, a man and a woman fell in love," Miguel said. "The woman was named Imelda, and the man was named Hector. They decided to get married."

"And then they had a baby!" Coco interjected. "Our Mamá Coco."

"Exactly!" Miguel said. "And Hector was a musician - a songwriter. So he went on tour with his childhood friend, Ernesto de la Cruz. Imelda was heartbroken - she didn't think he would ever come back."

"But she kept telling Coco that Papá Hector would come back," Coco said.

Miguel nodded. "Each day, Coco would ask, 'Is Papá coming? Is Papá home?' And each day, Imelda would say, 'Not today, m'ija. Not today.' And so it was, for days and days, until Imelda decided to tell her daughter, 'We don't need your father anymore.'"

"And they became shoemakers!" Coco said.

"That's right," Miguel said. "Meanwhile, Hector was still on tour with Ernesto, but he was missing his family, and he decided to go back. Ernesto sent him off with a toast - but he poisoned the drink!"

"And Hector went to the Land of the Dead," Coco said. "I don't like this part."

Miguel nodded. "Neither do I. And for years and years, Mamá Imelda shut her family off from all music. Ernesto had stolen her husband's songs and become famous with them - that is, until he died when a giant bell was dropped upon him."

"I like that part," Coco said.

Miguel couldn't help but laugh. "Me too. So the years went by. Eventually, Imelda followed her husband to the Land of the Dead, but she still cut off all ties with him. He was devastated. Coco lived on, however, and her daughter -"

"Mamá Elena!" Coco said excitedly.

Miguel smiled. "Elena was just like Imelda. She forbid music, and her family learned to live with it. Except for one little boy, with a hideout in the attic and a love for the music of Ernesto de la Cruz."

"You!" Coco said. "It was you, it was you, it was you!"

"Exactly!" Miguel said. "And I decided to steal Ernesto's guitar from his tomb to play in the Plaza for the Día de Muertos Talent Show. But what I didn't know was that stealing from the dead would get you stuck in the Land of the Dead."

"And you worked with Hector to get to Ernesto, because you thought that you were related to him."

Miguel scoffed. "Yeah - not the best decision I've made. So when I finally got to him, I learned that he killed Hector, and then I learned that Hector was my actual great-great-grandfather - and he and Imelda made up and sent me back, just before Hector could be forgotten."

"And you sang with Mamá Coco, and she found a picture of Hector so he could be remembered."

"And every year, no matter who's still alive and who's passed on, we tell their story, so that they can be remembered for as long as we can let them be," Miguel said.

Coco smiled. "Again!"

"I think that's enough talking for today," Miguel said. "How about we set up the ofrenda?"

"I like that idea," Coco said. Miguel carefully lifted his sister off his lap and walked her over to the table.

"Now remember, we have to keep a straight path of marigolds, all the way to the Plaza de Santa Cecilia," Miguel said as the two siblings grabbed handfuls of petals and began to sprinkle them out of the room and down the road. "Otherwise, Hector and Imelda and Coco can't find their way to us."

"Can we sing while we work?" Coco asked.

Miguel smiled. "Hermana, we can sing all we want!"

"Can we sing 'The World Es Mi Familia?'" she asked.

"Sure - I love that song," Miguel said. "Papá Hector wrote that song after a show in Nuevo Laredo; there weren't many people there, but he met a couple there who told him and Ernesto that they were un formidable dúo."

Coco smiled and began to sing as she continued to scatter the marigold petals. Miguel, as always, was amazed at how sweet and pure her voice was. He wondered if this was what Hector felt like, when he heard his Coco sing.

After a few minutes and cycling through multiple Hector Rivera songs, the siblings arrived at la Plaza de Santa Cecilia, their petal trail meeting up with a large pile of the same bright, orange petals.

"Now this is where the marigold bridge starts," Miguel said, gesturing off into the distance. "We can't see it, but on Día de Muertos, these petals create a pathway between our world and the Land of the Dead, so our ancestors can come over."

"Why can't we see them?" Coco asked.

"Because…" Miguel stammered. To be honest, he didn't know. Finally, he decided on an answer.

"Because we need to be able to respect how fragile life is," he said. "If we saw them every year, it wouldn't feel like we needed to respect them as much."

Coco nodded. "Got it. Oh, look, there's Ernesto's tomb!"

Miguel looked up. Sure enough, there was the mausoleum of the murderer, now fallen into disrepair; just above the stone carving "Remember Me," there was a wooden plaque saying "Forget You."

Miguel smiled. "That's it, all right."

He woke up the day after, exhausted. After a night of partying and singing and eating, it was good to be able to rest for a bit.

He yawned, going downstairs into the ofrenda room. The table was still set up, the picture of Hector, Imelda, and Coco as the crown jewel of a beautiful family tree.

He looked into the corner of the room. There was Coco's wicker wheelchair, tenderly preserved.

"Remember me," he quietly sang. "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. Remember me - though I have to travel far, remember me each time you hear a sad guitar. Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be - until I'm in your arms again…"

His voice trailed off. It had been five years, but he still missed her. It was like a scabbed wound that coming down here had just picked off.

"Remember me…"

The voice finishing the song made Miguel jump. It wasn't anyone from his family - or rather, it wasn't anyone from his family that he had seen in five years...

He turned around to see a man, taller than him, in a finely-tailored outfit with Rivera shoes. The man was pale and bony - literally.

"Papá Hector?" Miguel asked.

The figure shrugged. "Surprise, m'ijo."

As quickly as he could, Miguel ran up and gave his great-great-grandfather a hug.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you missed me," Hector said, returning the hug.

"Wait…" Miguel looked up. "How are you here? I mean, how can I see you?"

"Well…" Hector said abashedly. "I may have stayed a little late at the ofrenda."

Miguel sighed. "Por supuesto…"

Thanks for reading! This is just the start of a big adventure for Miguel, Hector, and the entire cast of Coco. Be sure to keep on reading!

Feel free to review, but please no negative reviews or cursing. (And please, NOTHING POLITICAL!). Thanks!