A/N: Hola! I don't have any reasonable excuse as to why I stopped writing for a while but I'm really sorry about it. Maybe I'll find more inspiration. I'm going to start on works in other fandoms just so that when I get writer's block on one I'll go to the other and if I get writer's block on that one I'll go back to this one. It's an author's version of really smart multitasking ping-pong. After this chapter guys, the plot will fully commence. I am just getting everything organized. (JK! Who has time for that? I don't. *cries*)

Chapter 5: Waiting

Miguel sighs, a light breath leaving his lungs in a tuft of warmth.

He had been so confident. He had said he'd just wait for them to crossover.

Like if it would be that easy!

He should've realized that he wouldn't be able to see them. It was obvious! How could he have thought it'd be that easy. It was never that easy. Never. But he had hoped and that's what was important, right?

Miguel wipes his forehead, taking away a whole armful of sweat. He grimaces at the disgusting and sticky feeling. Abuelita told him he could help clean the kitchen in preparation for the guests who'll arrive for the celebration later in the night, and he hadn't wanted to let that offer pass him by. It was better than being locked up in his room again.

So he got some rags from where they were neatly folded in a closet, some Fabuloso from under the kitchen sink, and he got cleaning. Though, he seemed much more energized at the beginning. Now, he's forced to place a hand on the kitchen countertop to stop himself from leaning over and fainting. He was actually feeling sick now.

He feels like he's burning up. Miguel places a hand to his own forehead, trying to notice his own signs of fever.

"What is wrong with me?"

Miguel pulls his red sweater off and throws it on the nearby kitchen table. He grabs the rag more tightly in his grip and dips it into the Fabuloso mixture from a nearby bucket, wringing out the excess water. He lays the wet cloth on the stove, scrubbing harshly at the grease stains on the grills, but to no avail. He pulls back frustrated.

"Ugggh! This is useless," he says as he throws the rag onto the still greasy stove.

Trying to clean a Mexican family's stove?

Impossible.

Miguel crosses his arms over his chest and stares at the rag on the stove like if it was his worst enemy. He didn't have time for this. He had to figure out a way to contact Hector.

He turns his head to look out towards the yard. He'd have to wait for nightfall to even have a chance to see his dead family, and that is if he could. Which he doubts he can. Miguel sighs and looks back to the stove, the rag still laying there.

Then he hears a sound. Something scratching underneath the sink, which was right next to the stove. Scratching and more scratching. Like tiny claws. Miguel jumps at the sound of a loud noise, almost like a snap of metal on wood, or a metal spring being let loose. It came from under the sink again

Miguel gulps, knowing all too well the sound of scratching and the sound of snapping. One of Abuelita's traps caught a rat. Miguel definitely didn't want to clean that up. The thoughts of a carcass twisted unnaturally and how life is being stolen begin flooding into his mind. Although, he didn't know why? He begins to sweat a little more at the thought of the tiny rat that's most likely lost its head.

But Miguel gets a little too hot.

He sways on his feet, nearly toppling over completely. His head hurt. His skin and his heart felt like they were burning and his eyes could barely stay open.

He tries to ignore it by shaking his head and turning to look at the cabinet just as a bright orange light leaks through the cracks under the door. It was bright enough to make Miguel cover his eyes in pain. And for some reason with the light, came a sharp pain in his heart and just as fast all the hurt was relieved from his body.

As the light dims, Miguel stares down into the cabinet where the dead rat was and where the blinding light had come from. The boy wonder's of what his unpredictable and confusing powers had done now.

He kneels down and places one shaky hand on the handle to open the cabinet. And then he opens it really quickly, but he jumps out of the way in fear when the rat he thought was dead jumps up to his torso.

"Ahhhh!" he screams, jumping onto a chair to stay away from the creature. The rat scurries under the cabinet. Miguel breaths in and out loudly at a fast pace.

He slowly climbs down the chair, not taking his eyes off the crack in which the rat went through. He slowly creeps up to the fridge, where the broom is placed behind. He grabs the broom, places it close to his chest like a weapon and nears the crack. He's seen his Abuelita catch rats this way countless amounts of times. It shouldn't be that hard.

Miguel bends down to look through the crack underneath the stove. The rat was in the corner, munching away happily on a newfound piece of chicken. It looks at Miguel and quickly scurries away inside a hole in the wall behind him, out of Miguel's reach. Miguel straightened himself and lets out a sigh of relief, glad he didn't have to try and catch the creature.

He places the broom down and looks into the cabinet under the sink. The mousetrap was there, closed down on nothing. There wasn't even any blood. The rat must've tricked the system because the piece of cheese was still eaten from. Miguel couldn't hide his sigh of relief.

"Miguel!"

Miguel jumps at the sudden call. His abuelita was calling him from inside the courtyard where she was setting up the table for the dinner tonight.

"Bring the salad!"

"Si, Abuelita!" he yells back. Wouldn't Hector have crossed over right about now? Him, Mama Imelda and the rest. All of them could be in this very room for all he knew. But he would be ignorant of their presence. Why had he even thought he'd be able to see them? It'd take a pretty big miracle.

Miguel looks around for the salad. It should be on the countertop where they always leave the food. He looks behind the dish rack and behind the microwave like if the salad bowl would fit there. He looks over to the table and only sees the basket of fruits in the middle of the table. He lets out an angry sigh.

"Hola mijo," says a soft, sweet voice that could only belong to his mother. She walks into the kitchen from the outside yard with all of the younger children in the family walking at her feet, grabbing onto her white skirt and his sister at her hip. "Why aren't you in bed?" she questions with a slight quirk of her eyebrow.

"Abuelita told me I could help," he smiles. His mother sighs and the children at her feet scurry away in order to go play in their rooms.

"That woman. She is so indecisive. One second she tells you to rest, the next she doesn't let you even stop working." she places Socorro down onto a chair at the table. The young girl begins to reach for the fruit basket placed in the middle of the table. Miguel grins at her attempts and then places an orange from the basket in front of her. Socorro's eyes light up and she reaches for the orange, beginning to stick her nails in the outer shell in order to peel it open.

"Miguel, just take the salad to your Abuelita than you'll go right back to bed," she says sternly. Miguel slumps down, frowning at his mom.

"But mama!"

"Don't "But mama!" me. You have to rest. The doctor is coming over tomorrow to give you a checkup. Your fluctuating temperatures are not normal at all"

"But-" Miguel begins to say but a glare from his mother makes him stop. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine!"

"Good," his mother smiles, her beautiful features were accentuated by it. "Now go take the salad."

" About that...Mama….do you know where it is?" Miguel asks, embarrassed by the fact he didn't know. His mother laughs at her son.

"It's in the fridge, tonto," she says and points to the fridge from which Miguel had reached behind in order to get the broom.

"Oh...um...I knew that," he says and goes to open the fridge and take out the salad. He holds the bowl tightly with both hands once he realizes it's a ceramic bowl. Breaking it would mean certain death caused by his Abuelita. He begins to walk out toward the yard as his mother places a bib around his younger sister. He's almost out when his mother calls him.

"Miguel."

Miguel turns to look at his mother. She had gone away from the table and was kneeling and looking into the cabinet from where the rat had come out of. She stands up with the trap in her hands, the tiny slice of cheese staying on only because she was holding it horizontally.

"Did you see a dead rat around here?" she asks, looking at her feet to spot the creature.

"I saw a rat," he says, "But it wasn't dead." He shivers at the memory of it jumping on him.

His mother looks around quizzically then at the cheese.

"That's odd. I knew the trap wouldn't work so I put cheese dipped in rat poison on it. And there's a bite in it. There should be a dead rat."

Miguel looks towards the crack underneath the stove. The rat was very much alive last time he saw it. And it may have been alive because of him.

"Maybe it didn't work," he says, shrugging his shoulders, not dwelling on the oddity for long. But his mother still looked frustrated, hating the fact that she didn't know.

"I guess," she says, still looking around for the rat.

"I'm gonna go," he says, not sure if he could leave yet or if his mother had another question.

"Ok," she says and throws the useless trap into the plastic garbage bin.

Miguel turns and walks out into the yard and looks up to the sky as he walks. The night was beginning to envelop the day as the colors of the morning sky swirled in contrast to the dark color of night. The spirits of the dead would be crossing over right now, ready to see their family but knowing their family will never be able to see them. He walks up to his Abuelita in front of the table. She was attempting to perfect the presentation.

"I brought the salad," he says. Abuelita turns around and looks at the bowl in his hands.

"Gracias, mijo," she says, but doesn't reach out to grab it. "Can you take it to the ofrenda?''

Miguel gets a confused look on his face. "It's on offering?"

"Si," she says while switching up the placement of the food on the table.

Miguel looks down at the plain lettuce salad and grimaces.

"Who would want a salad?" he asks and all of a sudden he feels a chill come up his spin, like if something had tried to grab him only to phase right through him. His hair's stand up and he arches his back at the feeling, Miguel swiftly turns to try and find the culprit only to be met by empty air.

"Your Mama Imelda," his Abuelita says from behind him. "She was a very healthy woman." Miguel all of a sudden goes through a sudden realization.

"Mama Imelda!" he says loudly. She must be here! And she must be mad he made fun of her eating habits. "I'm going to go to the ofrenda room to put her salad on the ofrenda. Don't wanna disappoint her."

If she was here that meant everyone else was here too. Including Papa Hector. Miguel should know that he has little to no chance of being able to see them, but if he could at least sense a little bit of their presence, that'd be enough. They'll be able to hear him and maybe help him. If what happened in the kitchen was anything to go by, his "powers" were getting a bit too confusing.

He walks at a fast pace to the entrance of the ofrenda room.

If Miguel could see him…

Was it even possible?

It couldn't be...but what if? What if?

Miguel reaches the doorway leading into the ofrenda room and hesitantly looks inside.

There, standing in front of their shrine was Hector, about to take a bite out of one of the conchas from the ofrenda. No longer in the tattered clothes, Miguel had become used to seeing him in, Hector was almost unrecognizable. Instead, he wore clean and pristine clothing over his skeleton form. But Miguel could easily tell it was him from the old straw still placed on his head.

Miguel didn't even realize he dropped the bowl until he heard the sound of it breaking on the floor beneath him. Hector turns his head to look at him. Miguel knew his mouth was wide open in surprise.

"Hector?" he says, softly.

Hector's eyes widen at his name being called by the boy he most likely thought would not be able to see him.

It's impossible.

"Can you see me?" Hector says, a slight amount of hope present in his voice.

Miguel couldn't even smile, still in the shock of the moment. But he breaks it in order to confirm Hector's question.

It's possible.

"Yes. I-I can see you," he says as he nods to his great-great-grandpa. And the concha in Hector's hands falls to the concrete floor beneath them.

A/N: I know. This chapter was really short compared to the other ones. That's because it was basically just the end of the last chapter but in Miguel's point of view. And because the next chapter is already almost finished. I should have it out by tonight or tomorrow night. Next chapter, Miguel will explain his powers and they will finally crossover. Yay for finally getting a progression in the plot! The chapter after that will finally bring in Ernesto. Yay! More progression! Well until next chapter.