Got up sporadically on the brink of sleep last night and wrote this 'cause it popped into my head. Completely changed the movie-directionals. Enjoy!

In another place and time, a separate, parallel universe to his own; Manolo never died. He still fought Chakal with his lady, and they defeated him together, with Joaquin and the whole town behind them, as well as several skeletal family members.

Only this time, a different person saw the Cave of Souls.

A different person traveled through the Land of the Remembered.

A different person got bitten twice by that loathsome two-headed snake.

Who's venom reacts differently than one would expect in this Twist of Fate . . . .

. . . and sometimes, for some people, they never realize just how precious someone is to them until they almost lose them. . .

"Snake!?" came the shouted cry. They lunged, shoving the other away just before it struck. Both were wide-eyed with shock; one immediately felt anguished grief and heartache appear inside, tearing at their chest. The other, a sharp pain in their ankle, a numbness creeping up and taking over, and a deep, unshakable love for the one they had just saved.

He seemed to reach for her as his body fell forward, mouth moving, but only a soft rasping escaped his throat. Maria pulled herself out of her shock as Manolo smacked into the ground. She hurried over to him, rolling him onto his back. His eyes were closed, breathing ragged and rapidly slowing. A grief-filled, anguished cry escaped her and echoed throughout the town as she hugged her friend and lover close.

Her tears fell gently on his face, that looked so peaceful in death, as rain from the sky put out the candles Manolo had placed and lit for her. . . she sobbed all the harder.

Carlos Sanchez, General Posada, and Joaquin were the first to race out on the bridge, and the first to feel their hearts stop; one figure, sitting hunched and sobbing over a second, who lay limp. Through the heavy rain, they could not be sure who was there.

Manolo struggled through the venom that clouded his mind and numbed his body, struggling to move or speak. His ankle burned and ached sharply where he had been bitten, and he could feel his heartbeat slow, as well as his breathing, and he strained to get what would feel like a full breath.

It was slow, so slow, you would not be able to detect it from a look, or a heartbeat if you checked for a normal pulse. He felt cold to the touch, body temperature lowering faster than it would for even a corpse, and he himself felt a freezing darkness trying to drag him away; but he somehow felt that it was more like curtains, and not the hard grip of Death.

He was only half-aware of his surroundings, but couldn't fully understand what was going on, and barely had the energy to move, besides. Using what little strength he had left, he managed to open his eyes, though they were still half-lidded, and lifted a numb hand to brush away a few of his mi amor's tears.

Maria's breath hitched, tears falling silently as she lay a gentle hand on his face. "Manolo . . ." she breathed, a bit of blooming hope within her.

" . . .Maria . . ." it was soft and raspy, and a struggle to get every word out and make it audible, but he persevered. He lifted his head a little, gazing into her eyes, curve of his hand gently brushing her face.

". . .I will . . . never stop . . .loving you . . .mi amor . . ." he rasped out, a small, pain-filled smile on his face; His eyes shut, his hand fell against his chest, and his head back in her lap. Without the strength to fight to stay awake, he full unconscious; he was completely under the influence of magic venom-induced trance.

"Manolo?" Maria asked softly, lightly shaking his shoulders, thinking he was only tired. There was no response. For all the world, he looked dead. "Manolo?!" she shouted, sobs shaking her slender form and tears spilling down her cheeks all the harder.

Upon reaching the shelter of the large tree, Joaquin, General Posada, and Carlos gasped. Maria looked up, vision blurred by tears. She went back to her hunched position a moment later. Carlos felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of his son, while general Posada had frozen. He had come originally to tell Maria off for leaving when she shouldn't have, and bring her back to the house; and he didn't know how to sooth her.

Joaquin had frozen stiff, shocked. His friend, so strong, so brave, was dead . . . the thought felt foreign, unthinkable, laughable, even; something to joke about, but never, ever something that would become real. All of their petty squabbles and, dare he even think it, competition to win Maria's heart seemed obsolete.

Carlos was the first to pull out of his shock, rushing forward with sob. "Wh-what happened . . ?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer.

Maria looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes. "There was a snake. . . h-he pushed me out of the way . . ." she got out, a fresh set of sobs and tears overtaking her.

Carlos looked down at his son, at a loss. He felt the need to apologize for . . . everything. For telling him he wasn't a Sanchez . . .because he was. He was, and always would be. . . by telling him he wasn't a Sanchez was almost as bad as forgetting him after death. . . . he would be forgotten, and . . . .tears filled his eyes and he wept over his son.

Joaquin shook himself, tears filling his eyes. He spotted his friends dropped guitar and walked over silently, picking it up. Turning it over, he saw the inscription that lay on the instrument . . .that had probably always been there, ever since it had been given to him. "Always play from the heart. (heart shape) Maria" He could see the scuff marks on it.

He walked over quietly and kneeled down next to Maria, holding the guitar in a way that he could almost cradle it, yet anyone could still take it. He wasn't sure who he was offering it to, though; the heartbroken girl whom had lost her love, or the distraught man who had lost his son.

Maria sat against the tree, holding Manolo's guitar close. She could remember encarving her message into it before leaving. She could remember freeing the pigs and his first one being broken in the aftermath as kids. She could remember every game they had played together; her, Manolo, and Joaquin.

It only made the heartache stir within her more strongly. She had promised him her heart and love forever . . . and she had promised her hand to Joaquin soon, so, so soon afterwards. Carlos had taken his sons body home to be cleaned and dressed for his burial, and General Posada had convinced her to marry Joaquin so he would stay in San Angel, to protect them from Chakal, the Bandit King.

The marriage would be after Manolo's burial, at her own insistence. Later the same day, the rain still fell, but in smaller, fitful burst and lighter sprinkles. She had taken Manolo's guitar to be alone. She ran her fingers lightly over the wood, the strings, wishing with all her heart that he could be there beside her, playing for her, or teaching her how to play.

"So sad to see such young, powerful love torn apart." came an elderly, gruff male voice to her left.

Maria looked over and stood at the sight of the old man. She sniffled a little and quickly wiped her eyes as tears again began to fall.

"I am sorry, señorita, for upsetting you so. I heard of the whole ordeal. He was a close friend, wasn't he?" the man asked. Thunder boomed and lightning streaked behind him. Though Maria could not see, as she had closed her eyes a moment to try and stifle the tears, the mans shadow stretched out, revealing someone tall and with ratty, feathered wings.

"He was more than a friend . . .oh, mi amor . . ." she half-whispered.

The man smiled slyly. "Do you wish to see him again?" he asked.

Maria nodded faintly, looking down at Manolo's guitar. "With all . . . my heart." her voice cracked.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky. The man was no longer there. The still-lit candles, protected from the rain by the tall tree, now had a strange glow to them, and Xibalba now stood before her.

"Think about what you say, girl." he told her, in a serious, stern, faintly warning way.

Maria half-glared at him. For years, she had been stuck under the control of others; first her father, then the strict people at the Mission. And she was done. "With all my heart." she repeated firmly.

"Done." he snapped his fingers. There was a twin pair of hisses, and she looked down in shock to see the snake from before, but it had two heads! She gasped when both ankles were bitten, the fangs sinking in deep before the snake slithered away quickly.

She fell back, a name on her lips, "Manolo . . ." before she collapsed, her heart beating once more; then stilled forever in this world, the magic in the snakes venom acting swiftly and mercilessly.

She still had her lovers guitar in her hand.

Xibalba smiled maliciously, satisfied, and vanished.

Joaquin went to the house of his friend. He wanted to see him one last time before they buried him. A coffin would take a little time to build, and so to the Sanchez household he went.

Carlos let him in without a word. His cheeks were tear stained, eyes red and puffy; he had not stopped crying. "Do you know where his guitar is?" the usually strong man asked softly.

Joaquin nodded. "Maria went to get it. . . .it was by the tree. You can ask her for it." Joaquin replied quietly. Carlos nodded, and showed Joaquin into Manolo's room. His three musician friends were there, and his Abuelita, who had a handkerchief to blow her nose, tears quietly rolling down her face, grieving for her grandson.

He kneeled next to his friend. Carlos had followed him in quietly, and, seeing he needed a little time to grieve alone, silently waved the Mariachi brothers out and they wheeled Abuelita to Carlos with them. Carlos looked in once more, then shut the door behind him.

Joaquin chuckled lightly. "I always knew you were tough, Manolo . . . when we were kids, I always thought that I would die first . . .die as a war hero, like my father." he shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes, which he tried his best to keep from falling.

"I know we said that the best man would win Maria. . . .I guess, in a way, I won . . . but you were the best man first. . . .you protected her when I . . ." Joaquin lost it, tears streaming down his face as he leaned over and pulling his friend into a hug. It was a horrible thing to say to his best friend, to say he had won when really, really he hadn't; Fate had twisted beyond anyone's control, and these were the heart-wrenching, irreversible results, which he desperately wished he could change.

His medal slipped into sight and pressed against Manolo's chest. It's healing magic quickly counteracted the killing magic that held the young man a prisoner in his own body. However, it was a powerful venom, even without the magic; the magic merely froze the results, stopping the persons' own body and immune system from stopping the venom, leaving them unconscious and appearing dead.

In time, they would truly die, either from starvation or, more often, suffocation, as the magic enhanced how the venom affected the lungs and heart. The magic was gone; the venom was not.

With a gasp, Manolo opened his eyes, jerking away from the tight embrace with a heavy, gasping cough. Joaquin let go, shocked. Manolo fell back against the bed, having little strength to stay up on his own, breathing deeply, struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He could remember the snake, and the sensation of hitting the ground, and his words to Maria . . . then, nothing but black until now.

He took a few more gasping breath before settling, lifting his head and glancing around, disoriented. His heart was beating regularly again, as was his breathing; the magic of the amulet could only prevail so long, however.

Joaquin stared, shocked and overjoyed. "Manolo, you're. . .you're. . . you're alive. . ." he could only stare, open-mouthed, at his friend, brought back from the dead.

Manolo glanced at him, sitting upright, which turned out to be a mistake. A massive wave of dizziness smacked him right between the eyes, and nausea to his stomach. He groaned and fell back against the bed, eyes slipping closed.

"MANOLO?!" Joaquin shouted, standing and leaning over him, lightly shaking his shoulders.

Manolo only moaned in response, yell only hurting his ears. "Too loud . . ." he said softly, shivering a little from a sudden wave of cold that washed over him, while he started to burn from fever.

Carlos burst into the room. "What is it? Whats wrong?" he cried out, sword drawn.

Manolo moaned again, eyes flicking open before shutting again as exhaustion hit full force; he fell unconscious.

Joaquin looked over and answered for his friend. "It's a miracle . . . he's alive."

Carlos managed a smile, tears filling his eyes; tears of joy.

"The snake's venom didn't kill him, but it made him ill . . .he didn't look all to good after only sitting up." Joaquin added worriedly.

Carlos nodded with a determined look. "Please go get the doctor, then you can tell Maria." he told the town hero.

Joaquin nodded and left.

Maria wasn't alive to hear the good news. . . .

Edit;
The picture is of my own creation, so no stealing! I edited this thing a lot, because I didn't check it over carefully the first time and was kinda peeved at all the mistakes I made. Actually, you might want to read over it again. I changed some other stuff, too; nothing major, but that's besides the point.

I'm honestly not sure if I want to make this into a multi-chapter fic. It depends on if I can finish some of my other stories and how many people like this. The more reviews, the better, if you want this thing to get more chapters, so tell your friends if that's the case!

On a little sidenote, events from the movie will be mirrored; Joaquin's' medal breaking Manolo out of the trance, Xibalba winning the bet through dirty methods, Maria (unknowingly) asking for death to see her love again; and so on. They'll probably be more parallels noticeable here and there(if I ever get around to continuing this) and if anyone had suggestions to add in their reviews, that would definitely help, too.

Please R&R!