Chapter 10: I Always Thought I Might be Bad

A/N: Me crumpled on the ground: Please I just want to write.

Work, summer classes, comicon, summer depression, and sickness all standing in a circle around me beating me up: No.

Héctor held onto Miguel from atop Pepita as they flew through the sky, his legs clamped tightly to her sides as he squinted against the wind. Héctor was a little scared to be on the alebrije's back, he'd admit, the last time he was here he broke a rib.

But Miguel had no qualms being here as he did not try to hold onto Pepita and instead happily pet and praised the xolo dog -Dante- for finding them and leading Imelda to them.

"You really are an alebrije!" Miguel cheered.

At the words Dante began to change, a bright cacophony of colors and patterns crawled across his body until his nose popped into an intense green. Héctor held in a laugh at the alebrije's undeniably ridiculous look, as equally ridiculous wings popped out of his back, completing the transformation. He seemed both very fitting and oddly mismatched for Miguel.

Dante suddenly leapt off Pepita to test out his new wings and quickly plummeted to the ground, Héctor didn't really have a moment to dwell on the poor thing as Miguel lurched forward to reach out for the dog. Héctor was pulled forward with him and he swore that if he still had a stomach he would have lost all its contents. He pulled Miguel back, squeezing him tighter and doing everything in his power not to begin screaming in Miguel's ear, instead repeating don't move, don't move, don't move over and over in his head while clamping his eyes shut and just waiting for them to arrive to their destination.

Stars above, he hated flying.

He barely heard the sound of the dog barking and showing that is was okay over the sound of the wind. He just wanted this to be over.

Luckily it was only another minute before they finally touched down, the rest of Imelda's family waving and running up to them. Miguel eagerly slid off the alebrije's back, pulling Héctor down with him until he let go and just laid there on the ground, sweet, sweet solid ground. Miguel ran over to the rest of the family as Héctor slowly pulled himself together to stand, he turned to offer a hand to Imelda, but she wasn't on Pepita's back anymore. She was now standing before him, a bothered look on her face as he turned to face her. He dared not say anything and instead waited for her to speak first.

"…You, dropped this," She said softly, reaching down into the pocket of her leather apron and pulling out a letter. His letter.

He quickly swiped it up in a burst of joy, holding it up to see that it really was his letter, the handwriting matched.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you Imelda!" He said, relief pouring over him, "Thank you so much! I thought I had lost this forever and- uh…"

He trailed off, noticing how Imelda stared at him wildly, and quickly contained himself, coughing into his free hand.

"Sorry, I-I… thank you Imelda, you don't know how much this means to me," He said softly, bowing his head.

She shook off her shock and looked to the side, balling up her fists, "I can see it means a lot to you. …I know it wasn't my place… But I, I read through it, and…" She sighed, looking over at Miguel who chatted energetically with the rest of the family, "You two seem to really care for each other," She said quietly, "And, despite my efforts, I guess Coco never really forgot about you."

I wouldn't say that so soon mi amor, Héctor thought, recalling how the memory of him flickered earlier.

"…I… I can't forgive you," She continued.

"That's completely understandable, you have every right to be angry at me-"

"Yes I do," She hissed, pointing a finger at him and effectively shutting him up. It seemed he spoke before she was ready, "Running off, leaving your family like that. And then putting the rest of your family in danger? Miguel spends five minutes with you and suddenly I have to fish him out of a sinkhole?!-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Miguel said, cutting into their quiet "conversation" and stepping between them, "Don't be angry with him! It wasn't his fault we were in the sinkhole, it was mine."

"It was?" She asked incredulously, looking down at him.

"Papá Héctor was just trying to get me home, and, I wasn't listening. But he was right, I should have just gone home," Miguel sighed looking to the side, Imelda eyed Héctor suspiciously, "And I will go home, but first, I need to get Papá Héctor's photo from de la Cruz."

"W-what, no, no, no, m'ijo that doesn't matter now, we need to get you home," Héctor said, as much as he really wanted to be able to cross and see Miguel and the rest of the living family once again, there was just no way that they could do it, "There isn't enough time for us to risk it, it's too dangerous for you."

"He can't murder you and keep you from seeing your family at the same time, at least, not any more if I can help it," Miguel said. There was a gasp from everyone else behind them, listening in on the conversation, but Imelda narrowed her eyes.

"…He… murdered you?" Imelda asked, looking up at Héctor.

"We just found out," Héctor confirmed quietly.

"…He wouldn't…" She muttered, barely audible.

Héctor looked to the side, clamping his eyes shut and taking a deep breath to hide the sudden bitterness flow through him, "He did," He said equally quiet.

There was a deafening silence throughout family as they all took in what had been said. Héctor was the one to break it though, they needed to focus.

"It doesn't matter now, what matters now is that I need to send Miguel home-"

As if on que another flicker of golden light ripped through Héctor, causing him to fall over. What timing, he thought. Everyone gasped as Miguel went to his side and tried to help him up.

"…She's… forgetting you," Imelda whispered with horror, Héctor did not want her or the rest of the family to see him like this.

"She's likely already forgotten me," He muttered, looking up from the ground to Miguel, who lightly shook his head, not yet, "I need to send you home."

"The photo," Miguel said, Héctor frowned, he couldn't really be thinking about that right now, could he? "We still have time, we have to have time. We have until sunrise, we could get the photo, you'd still be able to crossover-"

"Miguel, no-"

"How long is it until sunrise?" Miguel asked the family.

They looked amongst each other until Julio stepped forward, "…About an hour," He said.

"That enough time," Miguel said, he looked up to Imelda before Héctor could protest, "Please we have to get his photo. Papá Héctor should be on our offrenda."

Imelda took a sharp breath.

"…He should," Imelda responded quietly, staring straight at Miguel.

If Héctor still had a heart he swore it would have soared at her words. But, "…A… As much as I'd like that-"

"-Please," Miguel cut him off, a look of determination on his face once again telling Héctor that he wouldn't be swayed, "Just let me do this for you."

Héctor had to hold in the crazed laugh that threatened to spill out of him. People didn't do things for him, not anymore. He was a speck in this world, someone who just scraped along stealing what he needed, ignored by everyone else until he called attention to himself. It had been so long, felt so odd to hear that someone actually wanted to do something for him. He resigned with a sigh and nodded, Miguel brightened in response.

"We're more than willing to help," Imelda said, and again Héctor swore his heart would have soared if he still had it, she looked to Miguel, "How do we get to de la Cruz?"

Miguel looked to the side as he rattled his brain for an idea, if Héctor's head wasn't so muddled from the golden shock he would likely have three already.

"I think I have an idea," Miguel said with a nod.

Frida was surprisingly accommodating when they came to her proposing that she used less dancers for her performance so they could sneak in to the Sunrise Spectacular and, more or less, ruin de la Cruz's day.

In fact, she had been enthusiastic about ruining de la Cruz's day part. Héctor would have to ask her about de la Cruz's "offer" at a later time.

Ceci was understandably pissed when Héctor returned without the costume and instead came with news that they would need 8 more costumes. Frida had been a good buffer though to convince her to go along with it, though Héctor didn't really doubt that she wouldn't have agreed the end. He barely caught Ceci's mumble of "she drives me crazier than you sometimes" as they all ran off to get dressed and head to the show.

Sneaking in to the show was easy, sneaking out of the prop to head off stage without being seen was easy, taking off the costumes was easy (for Héctor at the very least), everything seemed all too easy. Their plan seemed too easy too, as they all huddled up and went over it one last time.

"Everyone clear on the plan?" Miguel asked.

"Find Héctor's photo."

"Give it to Miguel."

"Send Miguel home."

"Everyone got your flowers?" Héctor asked.

Everyone held out the flowers they had, Héctor holding out one of the three flowers he had. Call it paranoia, but he didn't want another situation like the before with the cenote, he had two flowers shoved in his hat and another in his coat pocket. They all nodded in agreement and followed Imelda down some estranged hallway.

"Now we just need to find de la Cruz," Imelda said, turning a corner.

"Yes?"

Héctor's panic suddenly spiked when he heard none other than Ernesto's voice around the corner, he quickly put his arm out to stop the rest of the family and hide them.

"…Don't I, know you?" Ernesto asked.

Héctor almost laughed, of course he didn't even recognize Imelda anymore. His thought was quickly lost though as he heard the unmistakable sound of Imelda taking off her shoe and hitting someone with it, along with the immensely satisfying sound of Ernesto screaming alerting Héctor that he was the one who had been hit. Good, hit him again.

"That's for murdering the love of my life!" Imelda shouted and Héctor suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store.

Love of her life.

Love of her life.

"W-who the-"

Héctor wanted to run up wave his hands around and cheer like a kid who won a lifetime supply of sweets, Me! Me! Me! Instead he rounded the corner, standing tall and confident with Imelda's words.

"She's talking about me!" He proudly proclaimed, then looked to her, "I'm the love of your life?"

Say yes, say yes!

"I don't know I'm still angry at you!" Imelda shouted back.

…Good enough!

"Héctor?" Ernesto said, looking over at him, Héctor couldn't help the sudden chill that went through his spine at seeing Ernesto again, "How did you-"

It was quickly replaced by satisfaction at actually getting to see his wife send Ernesto's head spinning with her boot. Ernesto screamed and Héctor was almost bursting with laughter.

"And that's for trying to murder my grandson!" She yelled, waving her boot in a threatening way.

Ernesto barely got his head on straight before Miguel popped out from behind the corner in his own confident stride.

"And that's me!" Miguel proudly said popping out from around the corner in his own confident stride.

The glare Ernesto sent Miguel shot a fear like no other through Héctor. He was just about to step between them and act as a barrier for Miguel should Ernesto try to hurt him. Instead Ernesto took a step back as Miguel loudly pointed out the photo and the rest of the family came from around the corner to back them up.

Ernesto quickly turned and ran, the rest of the family barreling after him. Everything became a blur as they weaved through the halls and dancers. Héctor didn't really know how, but suddenly he was throwing punches at security guard that refused to get out of his way as cacophony of fighting came from all around him. And just as suddenly, Imelda was gone, having been raised through the ceiling by the floor. Ernesto ran for her and they followed after.

Backstage, they could see her, standing before an elevated stage with a light brighter than the sun shining directly on her wide eyed face. She had the photo, they were so close. Héctor tried to beckon her off the stage, but she stood still under the eyes of thousands of spectators.

"Sing!" Miguel insisted, a good way to sneak off the stage without calling too much attention to herself. But, as Hector understood it, Imelda hadn't sung in near a century, "Sing!"

And she did.

Héctor couldn't help but gape. He hadn't heard her sing in what seemed like forever and a year, it was like he was hearing her sing for the first time once again. Her voice had aged over the years, but it was no less beautiful than when she was young.

A guitar was suddenly shoved into his hands and a mic raised before him, on instinct he played along with her. He felt like a teenager again, playing little tunes as she softly sang along. When it was just the two of them, on rare occasion, Héctor would mostly just play the guitar as opposed to sing along, he didn't want to spoil the beauty that was her voice as she sang.

And when she looked at him. Oh, how she looked at him! With such love and care, as if decades of hatred and pain where suddenly washed away in this old memory of how they played together.

No dejaré de querete.

He held onto those words tightly as she danced around the guards, along with the love of her life, and agreeing that he should be on the offrenda. He stored them away deep inside him and let them fill him with hope, hope that once all this is over, that once Miguel is home safe, he'll be able to talk to her once again, somehow begin working his way back towards her good graces.

When Ernesto grabbed her though, Héctor felt sick. What should he do? Drop the guitar and run to help her? He didn't know, he couldn't move from where he played, he simply watched and wondered over and over what had happened to his friend in all these years.

Just as suddenly, the song was over, with Ernesto crying out like a child while holding his foot and Héctor shaking his head. He went over and put the guitar away only to turn back around and find Imelda leaping into his arms with a look of joy spread across her face and a laugh coming from her. Instinct took over and he managed to catch her in time and even spin her around like when they were young and alive. So full of life and full of love.

It was then her turn to pause, slipping out of his arms while she looked away shyly and tucked her hair back. Héctor felt giddy at the sight.

"I forgot what that felt like," She said.

Ah but she hadn't lost any of that beauty in her voice, hadn't lost anything of her musical ability, "You've… still got it."

Miguel cleared his throat from beside them, calmly reminding them of the matter at hand, and holding up a cempasuchil petal he had plucked from his flower.

"Right, right," Imelda said, she unfolded the photo and looked over it for a second with a warm fondness before handing it over to Miguel.

Miguel handed the petal to Héctor, he held it up firmly between them.

"Miguel, I give you my bl-"

But all too quickly the joy of the moment was taken away as Miguel was suddenly ripped away from him.

"You're not going anywhere!" Ernesto had snarled, dragging Miguel away.

Horror ripped through Héctor at that moment as he swore what he was seeing must have been a hallucination. He was frozen in place as Imelda lunged after them, only to be shoved aside like she was nothing more than a nuisance. No, no, no, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Imelda got up without a problem as Ernesto dragged Miguel farther away from them. There was a gentle push from behind him, and Héctor found himself able to move, taking cautious steps forward.

"Stay back, stay back!" Ernesto threatened, holding up his hand, "Not one more step!"

There was a crazed look in his eyes coming from underneath his disheveled hair that Héctor swore couldn't be real, this couldn't be his friend. He didn't know this man who dragged his precious great, great grandson away, who fought against the alebrije trying desperately to pull it's charge back until he jerked Miguel harshly away, ripping off his jacket. This wasn't a man he was looking at anymore, but a hallucination, he swore.

"Leave him alone!" Imelda shouted, cautiously moving towards them, reminding Héctor of his voice.

"Ernesto stop!" Héctor tried to plead, "Leave him alone."

A flicker of golden light went through Héctor, knocking him and a nearby microphone over. Everything blurred and his mind could barely process what was being said to him.

"I've worked too hard, Héctor," This not-Ernesto said, it couldn't really be him, with how his image blurred and swirled Héctor was even more certain that this was a hallucination he was seeing and talking to. The real Ernesto hadn't gone this mad yet, "Too hard to let him destroy everything-"

"He's a living child Ernesto!" Héctor pleaded, his living child, but neither the real Ernesto nor a hallucination cared about Héctor anymore.

"He's a threat!" Ernesto growled, and Héctor swore he heard the words echo through his head, "You think I'm going to let him go back to the Land of the Living with your photo? To keep your memory alive? No."

Even though he knew Ernesto no longer cared about him, hearing that he was actively trying to erase him permanently from this world, the living world, and onward somehow hurt so much more.

"You're a coward!" Miguel accused.

Héctor was terrified, terrified of this image that he saw, of Ernesto turning threateningly back towards Miguel, of the way that he snarled with words Héctor could no longer hear nor understand. All he could do was look. He didn't want to look, stars no he didn't want to see any of this horrifying hallucination. He hated everything about this image. The way Ernesto prowled over Miguel in a most threatening matter, Héctor wanted it to stop, he wanted to stop it. The most he could do though was try to convince himself that this wasn't real, because it couldn't be real.

Ernesto grabbed Miguel by the shirt and lifted him off his feet with a harsh glare. Please stop, he didn't want to see this anymore, Miguel needed to go home.

Without a moment of hesitation, Ernesto launched Miguel off over the ledge. Héctor heard a yell that sounded like Miguel's when he came down the cenote. He didn't believe this was real but he screamed and reached out for Miguel all the same.

No.

No, no, no.

He barely caught sight of Ernesto walking past him, saying something he couldn't quite hear over the pounding in his head.

Gone.

Miguel was gone.

Héctor hadn't been able to get him home. He had failed, and now, because of him, Miguel was dead.

Died before his time.

It was all too familiar.

Héctor couldn't try any more, let him fade, please, let him fade so he wouldn't have to face his own child he killed.

Please, please.

A brush of wind ruffled his hair, a shuffle of feet and yelling slowly filled his ears, a heavy thump that shook the ground and everything else finally made him look up at what was going on.

It was Miguel.

Alive, he was alive!

He needed to get up! Héctor needed to get up, he needed to see his boy.

He needed to send him home.

Pepita nudged Hector and allowed him to use her as a brace to lift himself, she prowled away once he stood. He took only a handful of steps to Miguel and the family before another golden flicker ripped through him.

No, please no, just let him go to Miguel, let him send his boy home.

Miguel was at his side in a moment, a blurry image of what appeared to be more of a skeleton than the living child he had spent most of the night with. They were almost out of time.

"Papá Héctor! T-the photo, I lost it," Miguel said sadly, Héctor could barely make out the tiny words, but he did and they filled him with regret.

"It's okay m'ijo," He knew they shouldn't have tried to go for it.

As if to mock him, another flicker of golden light went through him. He rolled onto his back, instinctively clutching his stomach.

"Papá Héctor!" Miguel cried out.

Through the blur of his head Héctor managed to slowly bring his hand to Miguel's face, despite being able to see his skull, he could still feel the boy's fleshy cheeks, "We're out of time m'ijo," Hector plucked a petal out of the crushed flower in his coat pocket.

"No, no! The photo, we can still find it!" Miguel pleaded.

"Miguel it's almost sunrise!" Imelda said, suddenly kneeling beside him.

This was his last chance, his last moment.

"I give you my blessing Miguel," Héctor said as loud as his voice would allow as more flickers of light went through him, and the petal glowed.

He tried to move it towards Miguel but his arm was just too heavy. Smaller hands wrapped around his and helped him along.

"Go home Miguel," Héctor said, "Sing for Coco, let her know how much I love her. I'll be waiting right here."

"I-I will!" Miguel said, "I promise I'll sing to he-"

The glowing petal touched him and he suddenly disappeared into a swirl of petals.

I did it. Héctor thought as he tiredly laid there. Now he could rest, now he could fade. He was so tired, so very tired.

As the last petal hit the ground Héctor suddenly jerked up with a gasp of breath.

That's right, his memory!

Miguel was home!

He was alive!

Miguel was safe.

Miguel was home, he was alive, he was safe. He was okay, he was okay.

Héctor bowed into himself, his head in his hands and his knees drawn up, letting out a laugh that quickly turned into a sob of relief.

Miguel was home, Miguel was safe.

Héctor would stay here, in the Land of the Dead. He may never see Miguel again until many years later when he finally passed, but he would be able to see Coco soon in a couple of years so he could manage. He was just so relieved that Miguel was safe.

He did it. He did it!

A gentle hand touched his shoulder and Héctor was reminded that he was not in fact alone. He peeked out from between his hands at Imelda looking worriedly at him.

They had a lot of reconciling to do.

A/N: Done! Sorry I've been gone everyone, my life's been a bit of a mess and I always have some kind of gap when reaching the end of my story for being unable to wrap things up. We have 2 more chapters after this one so hold on!