A/N: Hello people! I have missed being able to sit and just write. But on the bright side, I got to finish all my finals early to come to Mexico! Mi familia is living in the cold of a little pueblo and I have come to join them. Feel free to ask any questions about Mexican lifestyle if you're interested or want info for your own fanfiction. I am Mexican and fully qualified to answer them correctly (hopefully). But first, I present Chapter 3 of The Angel of Life and Death! Enjoy!

Capitulo Numero 3: Much Needed Wisdom

Hector has gotten used to the new kind of lifestyle he has. A shirt that was clean and pristine laying over his bare ribcage. A nice pair of handmade Rivera shoes on his feet. And a pair of pants whose holes have been patched up. But his straw hat remained the same. Old, worn out and with strands of his wig hair sticking from its many tiny holes. He guessed it was a way to keep that connection to the past; when he couldn't do anything to save himself from coming closer to the final death.

Hector knew that he had shared the same fear with all the friends he has. Or had more like it. His day's in the slums came to an end when the Land of the Dead was enlightened with the truth of his death. And the truth of Ernesto. And with that end, came the end of him meeting with his friends.

To him, it had been a good end. Not that he didn't like his friends who shared the same feelings as him, but reuniting with his family was the only thing he'd ever wanted. Finally being able to tell Imelda that he had tried to return to them was a relief as well as being saved from his inevitable Final Death. But most of all, he got to see Coco again. Oh, how Hector had dreamed of the day in which he'd be able to hug her and kiss her cheeks, to tell her that he loved her with all his heart and that regret had clouded his soul since the day he left her. Hector never got to see her alive, unfortunately, but at least they reunited in the Land of the Dead. And it's all thanks to the great-great-grandson he never knew he had: Miguel.

The boy was, to put it simply, his savior. He could never meet Coco when he was stuck in the afterlife. Fortunately, Hector is able to see Miguel since he can now cross over the bridge. But he can't speak to him, or hug him, or tell him how grateful he was. It was like Coco all over again. And it felt terrible. Every night he goes to speak with his daughter and his Imelda to try and make up for lost years but also console himself from the sadness of not being able to see the boy. But now, Day of the Dead approaches and once again Hector will cross over. And though he can speak to his family about his troubles, he decides to speak to his friends.

That's why now he's walking right into the slums, with a whiskey bottle tied at his belt as a welcoming gift. This was the same place he'd brought Miguel to two years ago. But this time he comes alone. He can't blend into the people of the slums anymore. His tidy clothes make sure of that. Hector gets stares from everyone he passes. These were the people he used to call Tío, Tía or Primo. The stares they give vary. Some were filled with pity, most likely having heard of his tragic life, death, and afterlife. Other stares were full of an expected anger. To these people, he had betrayed them. Hector left their makeshift family for his real family, and that made them feel rage.

As he walks down the creaky planks that hold the houses and people above the dirty water under the city, Hector notices the same group of women who he had brought whiskey to that last time he came with Miguel sitting in the same spot and playing the same card game. Maybe they were left in a constant loop by the gods as if to laugh at their misery. Hector slowly, still gathering up the courage, walks up to them, securing the bottle of alcohol at his belt.

"¡Tía!" Hector says with a newfound happiness. His voice parallels the one he expressed two years ago. The women look up but still hold the cards in their hands, ready to begin playing again. They seem to have been able to tell who it was just from his voice because when they look up their faces are already full of either pity or anger.

"Tío Hector," one women answer's, her tone sarcastic as a way to show how Hector's familial title had been lost, "What are you doing back here?"

"Looking for you guys, obviously!" Hector says proudly. He was still trying to get on their good side. "I wanted to come hang out with mis amigos!"

"Amigos? I thought we were family or was that something you left behind when you found your real one?" one woman says, sass dripping from her voice. Hector's cheery demeanor drops.

"I know I left you guys, and I'm really sorry about that but I've been very happy now that I've found my family," Hector says with a pleading tone. "You guys have to understand that I left for a reason," Hector reaches out to pull out the fourth chair to sit in that is always by the table only for his hand to meet air, "Eh...Where's the chair?"

"Some kid stole it-But that doesn't matter! What matters is that you left us!" the same woman from before begins to raise her voice, but then her face falls to one of sadness as she looks away from Hector to the cards in her hands. "We are happy that you found your family and are safe from the Final Death but could you not have at least come to visit? Not even once did you come even though we were all ready to congratulate you. But no! You come to visit two years later!" She slams her cards on the table, causing her two other friends and Hector to flinch away.

"Ok I'm sorry," Hector says soothingly, attempting to calm the seething woman, "But I have come now so why don't we just play a game of Loteria and forget about it?" The woman looks up and stares past Hector to the house behind him, her face once again full of gloom.

"No," she says as she looks at her cards again, she seemed to be the only one who continued to play, "You have to go see Chicharrón." Hector looks behind himself to the home he had brought Miguel to get the guitar he needed. To ask for it from his old friend who had faced the Final Death right in front of both of them. Did they not know that he was gone?

"Tía, Chicharrón, he is go-"

"We know that he's gone, idiota. We all said goodbye. Did you?" They were talking about the ritual. Hector had done it. But he didn't want to get her even more enraged so he nodded and grabbed two shot glasses from the table and put them into his two vest pockets. He began to slowly walk to the house, still looking at them as he went. He throws them a friendly smile.

"I'll be right back," Hector says in a tone blended with both sadness and mock happiness. They didn't answer. Hector turns fully around and keeps walking up the planks to Chicharrón's house. With the wooden doors already pushed to the side, all Hector had to do was move aside the curtains held up over the entrance. He enters the home and everything is strewn about. After word of his Final Death got out, looters most likely came to take anything and everything they could.

Hector begins to step into the room where Chicharrón always used to lay in his hammock, but he gets shoved to the side when someone runs past him to the door. He catches a glimpse of the person's skeleton face to notice it was a young girl with blue floral designs under the holes of her eyes and red dots on the brow. And she was smiling. Another person, an older male skeleton, with short brown wig hair and green designs on his face, is in the room, throwing random pieces of clothing and small furniture at the girl fleeing out the door.

"Don't come back here, you low-life stealer! This house is protected by me. No one steals from my hermano and gets away with it!" the man continues to throw objects at the robbing girl even though she was long gone. Hector, with a stunned face, turns to look at the man, who is breathing heavily from the excursion and fixes up his orange vest, wiping off dust as well. He looks at Hector. "Who are you?" he asks accusingly.

Hector puts up his hands defensively. "I'm Hector. I'm not here to steal anything. I was a friend of Chicharrón's," Hector say's quickly, not wanting the man to decide to throttle him.

"Hector? I know you. Or I've heard of you more like it," the man says as he sits on a crate nearby, fixing his brown wig hair.

"Heard of me?" Hector repeats in a questioning tone.

"Yeah. The story of you hasn't died down even after two years. I think it just spread out across The Land of the Dead even more." There is silence as Hector lets that sink in. "Anyway, why are you here?"

"I came here to say my goodbye's to Chicharrón," Hector says softly but surely, "Are you his-?"

"I was." the man interrupts Hector. "My name is Gerardo and I was his brother. But now…he's gone." The man looks down, his face conveying the tragedy he seems to have gone through. Hector looks pitifully at Gerardo, wanting to console the man he just met but not feeling completely comfortable with the idea. If there was a person that understood the pain of losing family, it was him. Gerardo speaks up. "You do know that Chicharrón is...not here... any more?"

"I do," Hector answers confidently, getting a bit closer into the room, "But our familia here in the slums does a sort of ritual every time someone is taken." Hector moves into the room completely, no longer in the doorway of the hall. "We bring in two cups," Hector takes out the two shot glasses from his vest pockets, turns away from Gerardo and sets them down on a nearby stand, dusty as it is. "We fill up both cups to the rim with whiskey we paid for ourselves." He takes out the tiny bottle of the alcohol from the hold it was in around the belt of his pants. He places the rim of the bottle onto the rim of a cup and watches as gravity does the rest of the work and the liquid falls in like a waterfall. He repeats the process for the second cup. Hector then picks up both cups gently and turns back to the man. "Then we drink one and let the other stay untouched," Hector says as he moves to hand a cup to the man. "But since I already did this two years ago, I guess we can't let these shots go to waste," he says.

The man takes the shot from Hector, and downs it all in one go. Hector follows suit. Neither of them finds it strange, sharing some whiskey with a man they just met. That's how life is in the slums. You make connections with everyone and anyone you can, as a fleeting attempt to save some of your humanity.

"Why are you in the slums again?" Gerardo asks, setting the glass down. The question, Hector notes, was most likely one that had been on the man's mind since he found out who he was. Who would return here unless for good reason?

"I came for some friends to talk to. I guess I should've known they'd be mad at me," Hector takes out a piece of paper from his vest pocket, the whiskey glass still in his other hand. It was a spirt-copy of the picture with him, Imelda, and his darling Coco. He holds it softly in his hands, his eyes staring at the people in the photo intently. "I should've just talked to them. I'm just too stubborn to let them know that I'm this weak."

Gerardo looks at the picture in Hector's bony grasp. "You have your family, amigo. You shouldn't take that for granted. Trust me. You and I? We would know." Hector looks at the man, then back down at the photo, his gaze is loving whenever it crosses the young Coco and Imelda. Hector sighs.

"Yeah," Hector says as he straightens himself out. He looks at the man "Gracias." Hector turns to leave, but Gerardo speaks up again.

"Friends help, but family is the one that truly gives the answers, mi amigo," he says. Hector gives the man a nod of acknowledgment, then completely walks out. He walks onto the planks that lead back down to the women. He begins to steadily take steps down to them.

"Perdon, mis amigas," Hector says kindly, smiling broadly as he takes off his hat in a salute kind of way, the proper way for a gentleman to say goodbye. "But I have to be on my way now."

"Cabrón!" the woman from before stands up fully, slamming her hand on the table, "You come then you leave just as quic-"

Her rant is cut short as Hector drops the whiskey bottle, half-finished, onto their table. The women seem to forget all about their anger and of Hector. They all begin to drop the alcohol onto the table as they try to get it into their cups first. Hector walks away and begins his tread out of the slums again, gaining the same looks as he leaves. He had a family to see.

Back at Chicharrón's empty house, Gerardo stands and stares at the water from the open wall. With a swish of air and the cover of a curtain, he disappears in a flash of green.

Hector walks up the steps into the Department of Family Reunions. He now feels confident in coming to meet with his family in order to cross the Marigold Bridge. Though most of his friends were in states of complete hatred toward him, the moment with that strange man actually helped. He looks up, to see his family waiting outside of the doors. The twin uncles playing with each other like children, Tio Rosita conversing with Papa Julio, and Coco standing next to her mother and smiling softly, being cute and staring at nothing in particular. And Imelda was in a stance that conveyed her fury, her arms crossed and face impatiently twisted to one of anger. She notices her husband and walks up to him, the rest of the family, including Coco, flinch back.

"¿Donde estabas? Where were you?!" she pulls him in by the vest roughly. "We were gonna decide to leave without you, ingrata!"

Hector holds up his hands defensively, letting out a nervous smile. "Ay, Imelda! I'm okay. I just had to go do something real quick, mi amor." She pulls him in closer and suspiciously stares at him with her beautiful brown eyes. Even now, all Hector can do is admire the fire in Imelda, the one that had first attracted him to her all those years ago.

"¡Que tonto!" Imelda lets Hector go suddenly, and looks at him with her arms crossed over her ribcage "What exactly did you have to do, huh?"

Hector rubs the back of his head in a nervous tick. "Um….I just went to visit my friends," he says softly. Imelda's hard look drops to one of curiosity for once, her beautiful features no longer being disturbed by the anger of her usual personality.

"Your friends? You haven't gone back there since...forever. You would only go if you needed someone..to talk..to," she drops her arms to her sides in realization. "Hector, you know you can talk to me right. I'm here for you," she says as she places her hand on her chest and leans in closer to her husband.

"I know, Imelda. That's why I came back so quick," he says smiling. Imelda's expression changes to one of anger once again.

"Wait! You were going to stay there longer!" Imelda raises her fists and Hector flinches away. Imelda sighs and lets her fists drop. She turns to the side, her purple dress swaying in her movement, and crosses her arms again. "Whatever. Let's just go inside and get everything set so that we can cross over." She turns fully and passes the rest of the family in order to go into the department. They all stare as she passes them, then they look over at Hector.

"Hola," he says as he walks up to them. Coco had moved to the right, next to Tia Rosita and Papa Julio. She smiles softly and brings up her arms for an embrace.

"Hola, Papa!" she says. Hector pulls her into a hug and lets himself just feel that: the feeling of happiness to be in his daughter's embrace. They pull away and then the whole family walks into the department together, piling in through the doors. Imelda was already walking up the stairs and the rest of the family speed walks in order to catch up, including Hector.

Hector should be used to the stray looks he gets from people. Based on what he's heard, the Rivera family is famous, especially him. Coco grabs his hand and Hector smiles down at her as she smiles warmly at him as well.

Two guards open the doors for them, and the Rivera family enters the Department of Family Reunions. It seems like the whole office stops to stare at the famous family who had been part of every rumor since the event that occurred two years ago. Hector refuses to let the stares intimidate him. He smiles and waves at all the people.

"Don't stop, mi gente!" he says loudly to all the people, "There's still work to be done!" Imelda grabs his other empty hand and pulls him away from the 'center stage' he'd put himself on, his other hand slipping from Coco's hold. All the people who had heard his outburst just stare with looks that say 'Is this man crazy?'. Imelda completely pulls him over to the desk of a skeleton worker in the office, the young women who had been on the receiving end of Imelda's fury two years ago.

"Are you trying to ruin the family name?" she says to Hector once she lets his hand go and turns to glare at him. If looks could kill, he'd be even going through the Final Death right about now. "Everyone in the Land of the Dead already thinks we're crazy and you go talking like you own the place!" Hector just lets himself take the blow from her loud words, but it seems his wife was actually waiting for a response to the question she had asked so Hector gets ready to respond only to be interrupted.

"The Rivera family," the women at the desk had stood up while Imelda had been yelling at her husband. Her tone was not questioning. She knew who they were. "The Head Clerk should be ready to meet with you any moment. You may go wait in his office if you'd like." She gestures to the door, and Imelda, who had turned to look at the women, just glares. Hector looks over his wife's shoulder to the worker and with another tug on his arm, he is being dragged into the office by the wrist. Imelda's grip is tight and seems to easily convey her anger.

"We'll wait inside," she says so that the rest of the Rivera family, who had gathered at the worker's desk could hear, but before anyone could even think to follow the women and her husband, Imelda slams the door shut, the sound reverberating around the department. The Rivera family and the working women just stare in silent confusion at the door.

Inside of the office, Imelda has Hector with his back pressed against the wall, both of her arms caging him in on both sides. Hector has a nervous look to him. Imelda had something on her mind and he knew that. He just didn't want to be caught in one of her episodes. Imelda just looks at Hector, their eyes meeting and Hector trying with all his might not to look away due to the intensity of his wife's gaze. Then out of nowhere, Imelda drops her hands and breaths out a heavy sigh. She walks over to the center of the room, and Hector lets his back separate itself from the closed door. He looks at Imelda with curiosity as she brings her fingers to her temple, eyes closed.

"Do you remember when we were still alive and young," Imelda starts, her voice low and her eyes not meeting with Hectors, "You would never talk to me about what you were going through. You'd just leave and go talk to friends." The word 'friends' leaves her lips in a sneer-like tone as if she hated the idea of him with others. "I mean, I was glad that you had people but I was your wife yet you wouldn't talk to me." Imelda brings up her face and turns to look at the man who held her heart, even in all her anger, and Hector all of a sudden feels a pang in his heart at the pitiful gaze she was giving him. "Why?" she says, softly, no anger in her voice. None at all.

"I-,"Hector is at a loss for words. How was he supposed to answer that? Just tell her that he had been, and is, too proud to let his family know of his weakness. Or to spill the beans on his fear of not being able to be there for his great-great-grandson the way he wants to be. How? "I don't know."

Imelda lets out an angry sigh as she throws her hands up in frustration. "I swear! You're like a child." She goes up to Hector and pulls him in roughly for a hug. Now Hector is even more confused. "No soy un idiota. I'm no idiot. I know that you don't want me or Coco to see you weak," she says, her words flowing directly into Hector's ear. She knew. "And I know that you've been thinking about Miguel." She knew everything.

Imelda pulls away and holds Hector by the shoulders. "You're r-right," Hector says as if the realization was surprising. He should've known she'd know.

"I love you," she says, smiling. Hector believes her. "Coco loves you. Miguel loves you. And you should know that. So don't...," she tightens up her hold, her bony hands squeezing, "...be afraid." How was she so wise?

Hector beams at her. The words she said were perfect. They helped ease his mind, his soul, and his worries. "I love you all too." And they both just stand there, in comfortable silence.

Until the office door is opened. Hector and Imelda look over to the people entering. The short Head Clerk walks in with the Rivera family behind him.

"Oh!" he says, "Are we interrupting something?" Hector and Imelda pull away, smiling nervously. Hector notices his daughter letting out a laugh at their flustered looks.

"No," Hector and his wife say simultaneously. Another laugh is heard from Coco. The Clerk and the rest of the family fully walk into the room, the Clerk leaving the door open which lets the noise of the busy department seep in. The Rivers family, who had come to stand next to Hector and Imelda, all look over to the Clerk at his desk. He picks up a single paper and walks over to Hector, handing it to him.

"That piece of paper authorizes you all to cross over," he says, pointing at the paper as Hector tried to make out its complex grammar. Imelda puts her hands on her hips.

"Why do we even need authorization? We never needed it in the past," she asks.

"Because," the Head Clerk begins to explain, "Ever since the incident with your great-great-grandson, higher powers want to keep a closer eye on this family."

"Higher power's?" Tia Rosita asks curiously. The Head Clerk just nods, as if that is enough explanation. Hector just stares at him with suspicion, but not feeling like ruining the moment of near exit. He was about to go see Miguel after all. The Clerk walks back behind his desk and takes a seat in his chair.

"That is all," he says, cheerfully, "You may all go crossover now." And with that, the small skeleton goes back to work signing paper. The Rivera family all turn to each other. Every single one was confused but no one spoke out about it. Instead, Imelda headed the way once again as the family followed. To the bridge, they went.

"Next," says the female operator of the identification machine at the entrance to the bridge. The Rivera family hadn't had to wait in line due to their popularity causing them to get 'VIP' access all the way to the front. Hector, obviously, goes last. He watches Imelda go up and Coco, and he sighs with relief every time that one of the family is let through as if the fear of not being allowed over still haunted him. Hector finally goes up and the operator woman looks over the machine at the man. Hector is nervously twirling his fingers in his hands. You crossed over last year. Just like Imelda said, don't be afraid.

And just like last year, it seems like the suspense could kill him or the fear that he'll hear the all to familiar beep of the machine reminding him that no one even tried to put his photo up. But just like last year, he hears something different, the words he'd wanted to hear.

"Your family put up your photo! Enjoy your visit, Hector," the women says as she lifts her hand toward the bridge. The bridge, like every year, is blinding in its beauty. The petals are bright and seem to capture your attention and not let it go.

"Are you just going to stare at it all day or can we cross." Hector snaps out of his adoration of the bridge to look at Imelda who is holding her hand out to him. Then again, there is one person more beautiful than this bridge. Hector smiles, reaches out and grasps Imelda's hand. Coco is next to him on his other side, she grabs onto Hector's open palm. Two people. Hector looks at both of them. The love of his life and the daughter who still holds his heart. They are everything he needs really.

Together they begin to cross the bridge, the petals under their feet glowing at every step. Just like last year, they walk with happiness being noted every time they turn to smile at one another. Tia Rosita, Papa Julio, Coco, himself, Imelda, Tio Oscar and Tio Felipe all walking. Together. A simple task made precious to Hector by all the years he had been separated from them. He looks to the sky and begins to get lost in it, only for his gaze to be interrupted by Pepita and Dante flying over them. There was beauty, Hector notes, in every action and every step they took to get closer to the other side. He was going to see his living family, knowing that he deserves to be with them and that he deserves to be with Imelda and Coco as well. He tightens his grip on both of the hands in his grasp. He was gonna see Miguel and he'd be damned if he let himself feel depressed during this moment of happiness.

A/N: Merry Christmas people! (kind of late...sorry). Also sorry that this chapter took so long to upload but I have a reason. My family here in Mexico only has wifi in one house and I am barely there since they always take me out to meet new family. I swear it should be impossible for me to have so many Tia's and Tio's! But at least I'm having fun (and practicing Spanish too). This chapter was meant to end with Hector meeting Miguel but I thought that it'd be too long and make the reunion anticlimactic. So you should expect the next chapter soon since it was meant to be part of this one. Anyway, hope you guys liked it. 'Till the next update!