Chapter 10:

I am so sorry it took so long to upload this! I've just been so busy lately because my grandpa passed away, I got the flu, and I've also been working on school work and other fanfics non stop. Trust me, I never stop thinking about this cute couple, but I've had a hard time making time for it. I'm also in the process of another one shot that is set in the time when Imelda and Hector were still alive because I know you guys love those ones. But without further a due, Chapter 10!

Making people laugh was one of Hector's favorite things to do.

He could sit there for hours telling stories and jokes to amuse the people around him, but he found it was ten times more enjoyable when he was making his family laugh.

During times of relaxation where the family wasn't working on shoes, such as right now when they were eating dinner, he would think of the most ridiculous things to say to make them laugh. Even though they were exhausted, his family would always crack a smile. It made his day to see their faces light up, and he usually liked telling his family about his time alive with his wife as well, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen her walk in with the rest of the family after they closed the workshop for the night. She would usually come in with a grumpy and tired look on her face that he would try to change with a kiss to her colorfully marked cheek. But he hadn't been able to see her face, and he was surprised he had gotten so sidetracked as not to notice.

Well, if Imelda hadn't wanted to come for dinner, there must be a good reason. He knew from experience that asking Imelda about a problem head on would only lead to more anger on her side. He didn't want her to think that he would turn into the kind of husband that would nag her for answers, so instead of going out to the workshop to see what she was doing, he picked up the plates off the dinner table and took them into the kitchen.

Rosita always complained that he would do all the cleaning after meals, and would clean up the house while they were in the workshop, and clean up the workshop when they weren't working. She felt that he was doing too much by himself, and wasn't leaving anything for them. He countered saying that he was no help in the shoe making business just yet. He was learning, but he was by no means ready to make a customer's shoes yet. He told her that he was merely doing this to help out since he couldn't help with the business. She reluctantly said that was a decent excuse before allowing him to continue.

He cleaned the dishes the old fashioned way first before putting them in the dishwasher, that he was still getting used to, to make them extremely clean. While that was running, he packaged all the unused food and put it in the fridge. He cleaned the kitchen counters, the dinner table, and had to keep Rosita in her chair in the living room where the rest of the family was relaxing with their own activities because she kept wanting to help.

It was finally well into the night when he heard the sound of the rest of the family getting up, and heading upstairs. They all gave him an exhausted 'goodnight' before mounting the stairs. He waved them away, and went back to taking the dishes and utensils out of the dishwasher, and back onto their shelves and into their drawers. He was just finishing putting the silver forks back into their places when he heard the sound of two pairs of bare, bone feet descending the stairs. He turned to look up when Oscar and Felipe came into the kitchen. They both had slightly worried expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong?" Hector asked knowingly as he placed the last fork in its place and closed the drawer.

"Um, well, we don't want to jump to any conclusions," Felipe began.

"But you might want to go check on Imelda," Oscar said.

"We can see the light still on in the workshop from our bedroom window," Felipe said.

"And we don't know what she's up to," Oscar finished.

"Alright," Hector said as he placed the last stack of plates on their shelf, "I'll go see what she's doing… but are you guys telling me to go because you're scared of her wrath or are you just lazy." He knew that if they still had skin and blood, Felipe and Oscar would be blushing.

"Maybe both," Oscar said with a sheepish smile.

"Oh come on," Hector laughed, "You have known her longer than I have. Why are you scared?"

"Because she's scary when she's mad," Felipe defended them, "And besides, she'll be happier to see your face than ours."

"Plus she'll go easy on you because she still guilty about all the years thinking that you abandoned her," Oscar said, and that earned him an elbow from his twin, "What?!" He asked as he rubbed his now sore ribs, "It's true!" Hector just chuckled as he began to walk out the kitchen.

"Ok you guys, I'll go check on her," Hector said as he pushed past between them to break their glaring stares towards each other, "You two go to bed, and I'll take care of her."

"Thanks Hector," Felipe said as he gave him a thumbs up before heading back up the stairs.

"You were always a keeper no matter what Papa said," Oscar said with a truthful smile before following his brother. Hector smiled back before turning to the door that lead outside to the courtyard and then the workshop.

He would never have guessed how good Oscar's sincere words would make him feel. He had hated splitting their family apart unintentionally as he tried to win Imelda's heart, and actually succeeded. Their Papa had made his daughter choose between her family and her love, and Hector had been surprised when she chose him. He would never forget her tearful eyes and her Papa's astonished face as she walked over to him and held onto his arm. He remembered her Mama breaking down in tears and remembered them getting worse when the twins followed them out of the house with their little suitcases. He had never expected anyone to chose him over a nice home with plenty of food on the table. He had neither growing up, so it sounded like the best dream… before he met Imelda. Her decision to live with him in a broken down hut instead of the home she had lived in ever since she was born proved to him that she loved him just as much as he loved her, and he never thought that would be possible. She had proven to him again and again that she was more than willing to put up with his constant idiocy to keep him around, and he had loved every second of it.

And he knew how much he would suffer after it was gone.

He struggled. He struggled for so long after dying. His first decade in the Land of the Dead were some of the worst years in his life, and when Imelda got there too accusing him of things he hadn't done, it made it so much worse. She hated him. His mi amor hated his guts, and her anger blasted away any apologetic words or chances of understanding that he could possibly give. So he did what she asked. He stayed away, and tried to forget her just as he knew she wanted to forget him. The memories were too painful with her angry voice penetrating them, so he had turned to the one who he hadn't heard that angry voice come from yet. His daughter.

Coco was well on her way to hundred now, but she had been his hope for what he thought to be his remaining years in the Land of the Dead. The only reason he could make people laugh and keep his goofy smile on his face was because of her… but he could never forget Imelda. It was always an ongoing battle. His wonderful memories of his little Coco laughing would slam against the more recent memories of Imelda throwing her boot at him and making a scene in the marketplace. He never thought he could get a break… not until Miguel showed up.

That boy had made his life so much better. He had brought music back to him, showed him his family and what it had become, and pulled him right back to Imelda.

Imelda hadn't been able to give off the rage he knew she wanted to with the 12 year old boy present, and that had been all Miguel needed to tell her the trust and for her to listen. Everything went uphill from there.

He still couldn't believe it as he walked towards the door to the workshop where he could see the light of an oil lamp through the windows and under the door. He was back in the family, he wasn't being forgotten so he would be able to see his little girl, and Imelda didn't hate him. In fact, she told him she never hated him. She told him she only put up a wall of anger because she didn't want to show the hurt that still existed after all these years. Hector had answered her words with a tight, loving hug. He smiled to himself as he took a hold of the workshop door handle.

He would have never guessed that his life would turn out to be so great after all the bad luck he had.

Hector turned the handle, and pushed the door open. His eyes were immediately pulled to the only light in the room. The oil lamp was dim since it was losing all its fuel, and it was illuminating the only other skeleton in the room. Hector sucked in a breath as he saw the firelight bouncing off of Imelda's bones and hair. The poor thing had fallen asleep at her work station with a half finished shoe still clasped in her hand. The lamp light outlined her closed eyes in their sockets, her beautiful facial features, and reflected off the ribbon tied in a bow that kept her long hair out of her face as she worked. Hector smiled at her sleeping form. She looked so vulnerable.

She never showed any vulnerability, ever. She had always been one to hide her emotions, to lock up her pain, and to suck in her tears. Now that her mind was elsewhere, hopefully in a good dream, her face and bones relaxed and presented their owners true form. A beautiful skeleton that was super tired.

Hector walked over to her, and carefully removed the shoe from her tight grasp as not to ruin her perfect, handmade stitches. He placed it by its pair on the shelf of half finished shoes before turning back to her.

She looked so peaceful, so at easy. Hector hated to wake her. She would probably hit him out of pure instinct if he did try to wake her up. He thanked whoever governed the magic of the Land of the Dead for making them skeletons, and skeletons were only 20% of a humans actual mass, because then he wouldn't have been able to lift her. He had always been skinny and weak in the muscle area, and that was why all the women always crowded around Ernesto and not him. But Imelda was smart, and knew there was more to someone than muscles, which Hector was thankful for.

Hector carefully lifted Imelda's head off the table, and rested it against his chest. He then reached under her legs that were covered by her dress from where she sat on her stool and kept a stationary hand against her back as he lifted her up. It was a lot easier than he expected to carry her bridal style out of the workshop, through multiple doors, down the hall, and into their room. He made sure that she was safe and secure in his arms the whole time. It wasn't like they could die anymore, but pain was still a factor even without nerves. Also, he didn't want to disturb her slumber.

He had noticed that she wasn't sleeping all that well lately, and every minute she was actually asleep was a blessing. He carefully placed her on their bed before untying the knot of her work apron in the back and taking it off before hanging it over the chair in the corner like Imelda always did. He also undid the ties of her boots before taking them off, and setting them by his own at the foot of the bed. He knew it would be leaping over the line to get her into her sleepwear, so instead he got his own on, pulled back the covers, and wrapped them both up. He gently wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her back to his chest. She rested his forehead against the back of her head as he felt his own exhaustion over take his senses. It didn't take long for him to follow his wife into a deep sleep.

It was the cold that woke him up.

Hector's eyes sprang open when he felt something was wrong, and what was wrong came to him instantly.

Imelda was gone.

He shook his head as he tried to remember the evening before. Imelda hadn't come to dinner, the twins had been worried, and Hector had carried Imelda to bed. He turned over, and looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was early in the morning, and way too early for anyone to be up. Hector pushed himself up into a sitting position, and looked around the room. He noticed that her work apron and shoes were gone from where he had put them, and this made Hector relax in one way and freak out in another.

If her work things were gone, it meant that she went back down to the workshop, but if she was working this early in the morning, it meant that something was wrong. He had noticed since he got back into Imelda's good graces that if she was irritated, sad, or just off, she would bury herself in shoes. Shoes were what she knew best, and what gave her a sense of meaning. She loved her shoes just as much as she loved him, and if she didn't want to talk about her feeling, the smell of leather was her companion.

Hector got out of bed, rushed to put his own shoes on, and walked out of the door of their bedroom. He made sure to avoid all the lose or squeaky pieces of wood even though he was on the ground floor as he made his way through the silent house. He made sure to open the door to the courtyard quietly considering it was old and rusty, and made a shrill noise if opened to fast. After making sure the door was closed, Hector turned to the workshop. He wasn't surprised to see the light back on again through the window of the shop or the sound of a hammer, but he was surprised to see Pepita staring through the lit window. The great alebrije's tail was swishing back and forth in irritation, and Hector could see her glowing eyes were anxious. That made Hector even more worried about Imelda considering she and Pepita were tied together through a magical bond. Hector quickly walked over to the workshop, and looked at Pepita as the leopard alebrije finally took notice of him. Pepita looked relieved to see him as his hand went to the door for the second time that night, and he walked in without a second thought.

Imelda jumped when the door opened, and she accidently threw the shoe she was working on from where she sat at her station. Hector caught it before it could hit him in the face, and then looked at her in concern.

"Hola," he said was a kind smile, "You okay?"

Imelda's tense bones relaxed upon seeing who had interrupted her work, but her mind kept buzzing around like a mad hornet's nest.

"I've been better," Imelda sighed, and Hector could see how her eyes were drooping and her hands were shaking. Hector walked over to her, pulled up another stool, and sat down next to her. It took a couple minutes of silence before Imelda gave a tired sigh, and leaned her head against his shoulder. Hector wrapped her arm around Imelda's waist, and pulled her close while Imelda lifted one of her hands and rested it against his ribbed chest.

"Talk to me Melda," Hector said as he turned to kiss her hair. Imelda's hand on his chest clutched at the fabric of his sleepwear before she spoke.

"I'm scared, Hector," she said in a voice that was quiet and sorrowful, "I know it sounds silly since you haven't even been to Santa Cecilia since you died, but I've never gone two years without knowing what is happening to our family in the living world. I don't know what happened to Miguel, I don't know what's happening to their business, and I don't know what's happening to Coco. I hate to think that the last Dias De Muertos was the last time I would get to see her alive. I hate to think that I wouldn't get to see Miguel's younger sister as soon as possible. I hate that you can't see them with me."

"That's not a silly way to think at all Mel," Hector said as he hugged her tighter, "You are a good Mama, and wonderful worrier. Even though I'm sure they are all fine and well, it's a good feeling to know that that part of you never changed. You are still that young Mama that wouldn't let Coco out of your sight for more than 30 seconds. You didn't like leaving me alone with Coco while you went to run errands because you knew that I didn't worry as much as you. I would be the one playing games instead of letting her sleep, and you would scold me afterwards," Hector laughed at the thought, "It seems I was the bigger child."

"And you still are," Imelda said as she reached up for Hector's chin, and guided his head down so she could kiss his cheek, "I was overpowering back then. I was still trying figure out my role in Coco's life. Was I supposed to be the one who taught her everything, or the one that fed her, or the one that put her to sleep. I know realize how foolish that was. You can't, as a parent, give yourself a title. Each parent does everything no matter how big or small it is. I unfortunately had to learn that the hard way after you died."

"Lo siento," Hector sighed as he cherished her caring hands on his chest, "I wish I had been there to help. That was what I was supposed to do, and I had been prepared for it. But I tripped up and broke so many relationships in the process, and the one I was the most sad about was ours. I lost everything when I lost you. I lost so much for making one mistake, and I never want to make such a mistake again or it might just end me."

"It was never your fault," Imelda said, and she had said it so many times. Hector wanted to place everything on his own shoulders, and didn't want anyone to lighten his burden for him. It reminded Imelda of how many time Rosita asked to help Hector clean, but he kindly rejected her offers. He didn't want help just as much as she didn't. They were one in the same about that. "You were a wonderful Papa, and a wonderful husband. I don't know why I'm worrying about people that I can't even help. They are my family, si, but I trust them to make the right decisions just as I should have trusted you. It's just been eating at me for a while. I want to know what's going on in the Land of the Living, but I can't. There is not much that can stop me from getting what I want unless it is impossible. Getting over the bridge without a photo and without it being Dias De Muertos is impossible, and I know you know this."

"I know it too well," Hector chuckled as he recalled the countless amounts of attempts he had to cross that stupid petal bridge. "But at least we have each other now, and what better way to connect with the ones who can't see us by doing something that we all have in common. Would you mind giving me a lesson even in these early hours?" Imelda laughed as she looked up and met his big, begging eyes.

"Of course I don't mind, mi amor," she smiled as she took a hold of her shoe she had been working on and gave him the hammer. She directed his movements as she had done for every member of her family she had the honor of meeting face to face. The lessons came easily to her, and they were enough to distract her from her worried, motherly thoughts.