A/N:
TW! Descriptions of violence and mental trauma in this chapter, but nothing graphic.
Enjoy!
Showdown -Part 2-
All spotlights and gazes were on Mamá Imelda. For a moment, Rosa and Miguel feared that she'd just walk away from the stage, unbothered by the massive amount of attention pinned on her and the expectations of the audience, who were starting to get puzzled by her silence.
More nervous than she'd been in a long time, Imelda nearly knocked over the microphone in front of her. She was panting heavily; her anxiety was transmitted to her great-great granddaughter, who wanted to mount the stairs and sing in her ancestress' place to save her the stress of doing so, but something held her back. A glimmer of hope, a flicker of light that maybe… maybe…
What if, as unlikely as it sounded, Imelda Rivera would actually sing?
Miguel encouraged her to do just that. "¡Canta! ¡Canta!" he yelled.
The next moments passed in slow motion: Ernesto's guards quietly scaling the curved staircase to the platform above the stage while de la Cruz watched the scene with clenched fists, Imelda inhaling and taking hold of the mic, the entire amphitheatre holding its breath…
Ay de mí, llorona
Llorona de azul celeste…
Rosa's heart filled with mirth, her soul growing wings. Rosita and Victoria's jaws dropped, Óscar, Felipe and Julio were frozen in their spots, Héctor's eyes widened; it had been so many years since he'd last heard his wife's amazing voice…
Miguel smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He noticed a set of propped-up guitars nearby. He grabbed one, rapidly placing it in Héctor's arms, awakening him from his stupefaction. The skeleton commenced accompanying his wife after his grandson brought a mic in front of him so that the sound of the instrument would be audible for everyone.
Ay de mí, llorona
Llorona de azul celeste…
Pulling the microphone out of its support, Imelda held the photo of her husband and her skirt in the other hand as she walked down the stairs that led to the actual stage. The guards followed her.
Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona,
No dejaré de quererte.
Imelda looked at her husband. Héctor nodded inspiritingly at her while the cousins were spellbound by the scene. It was beyond human understanding and anticipation how fate had the power to influence people's lives so drastically in less than five minutes: the Rivera matriarch, who had banished music out of her existence a century ago, performing in front of her family.
Imelda returned Héctor's smile. That was the moment when her antipathy towards him started to get erased. Sparks flew between them, igniting flames of love in their hearts, flames that neither had reckoned could ever be set alight again.
Her confidence ascended as the orchestra accompanied her as well.
No dejaré de quererte!
She gracefully stepped onto the stage, her voice rising steadily. She shone in the limelight, the audience erupting in delighted acclamation.
Me subí al pino más alto, llorona,
A ver si te divisaba.
Como el pino era tierno, llorona
Al verme llorar, lloraba.
Héctor's heart was swelling, and so were Miguel and Rosa's.
As Imelda twirled around the stage, the guards tried stealing her photo and blocking her way. She skillfully avoided them, keeping the performance up.
Ay de mí, llorona, llorona,
Llorona de azul celeste…
She was approaching the wing her family was in when a hand folded around her forearm, startling her and the other Riveras. The audience became savage while Ernesto joined her.
Ay de mí, llorona, llorona,
Llorona de azul celeste…
Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona,
No dejaré de quererte.
Imelda attempted to escape him, but he swayed and lifted her in the air.
Miguel glanced at Héctor. His eyes were enlarged, his lips pursed and brow ridges almost meeting in an icy scowl that could set even the bravest soldier running for his life. The boy redirected his attention to the stage, where only de la Cruz was still singing.
Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona,
No dejaré de quererte.
No dejaré de quererte!
Rosa wished so badly to tackle Ernesto to the ground right in front of the public, no matter how many eyes would see her.
After de la Cruz placed Imelda back onto the floor, he twirled her more times until he managed to steal the photo.
No dejaré de quererte!
Ay, ay, ay!
During the high note that marked the end of the song, Imelda suddenly dug her heel into his foot. He screamed in agony, mangling the finale.
Imelda hurriedly exited the stage, with the picture in hand, the spotlights illuminating her figure until she was out of sight in the wing. The crowd continued yelling in enthusiasm.
Just after Héctor placed the guitar back in its support, his wife jumped into his arms, the thrill of the unplanned performance rattling her bones. Shocked, he held her gently, and that split moment brought back the image of their short merry life together.
Imelda put a little distance between them.
"I forgot what that felt like," she admitted, smiling.
Grinning, he replied with a dreamy shimmer in his eye, "You… still got it."
They smiled at each other, caught in their own universe, the spark from earlier burning brighter.
As much as Miguel and Rosa relished watching them get along at last (Rosa's heart especially melted at the romance that was blooming between them again), they had to interrupt. Miguel coughed, a petal in hand, a sound which snapped their grandparents out of their reverie.
"Oh." Mamá Imelda neared them, handing her grandson the yearned-for photograph. She held the marigold petal up.
"Rosa, Miguel, I give you my blessing."
The familiar soft glow appeared, emanating warmth.
"To go home… to put up our photos, and to never-"
"...never play music again," completed Miguel, his head drooping with a despondent sigh. Rosa cupped his sagged shoulders comfortingly. As much as her heart ached at that condition, they had to obey. They'd manage to get through this…
Héctor's gaze was regretful, but his mouth didn't open. Imelda continued, "...to never forget how much your family loves you."
Their eyes widened in amazement. Papá Héctor placed his hands on his wife's shoulder and arm; this time, she didn't reject his touch, nor his closeness.
"You're going home, mijos," he smiled softly.
The rest of the Riveras were watching the scene with fondness. Rosita blew a kiss with her hands at her niece and nephew, Victoria waved with one of her rare smiles, Julio, Óscar and Felipe doffed their hats.
The cousins grinned.
"We love you too," said Miguel.
"We'll set things right in the Living World," promised Rosa.
They interlaced their fingers, reaching for the petal at the same time. They were finally returning home… What a strong feeling! After a night filled with adventure, one that they were bound to remember for the rest of their existence and be forever impacted by.
The tips of their fingers had nearly come in contact with the petal when a sudden violent force tugged them back.
"You're not going anywhere!"
De la Cruz hauled Miguel in the air by his hoodie and roughly grappled Rosa's left forearm, making her scream.
Grunting, Imelda charged at him, but he shoved her to the floor, Héctor rushing to her side with her name on his lips.
Ernesto trailed Miguel on the floor towards the edge of the rooftop while he wrenched Rosa along, causing her to stumble and yelp.
"Let go of me!" she bristled, exposing her teeth in what she hoped to be a threatening scowl.
Shocked, the Riveras advanced with reaching hands.
"Stay back, stay back! All of you! Not one more step!" warned the musician.
Dante landed in front of him, growling before shoving his teeth in Miguel's pant leg and pulling on it, only for that to annoy de la Cruz further, who shoved both kids to the ground behind him, sending them to their knees. They backed away, hugging each other, their elbows and tibias pulsing in pain.
"Ernesto, stop! Leave them alone!" Héctor pleaded with him just before another golden flash struck him. He collapsed face-down, knocking over a microphone in the process, holding himself up on his elbows. Imelda rushed to his side.
Rosa knew that if she still felt her heart, it would beat uncontrollably. They'd been so close! What hadn't they moved faster? In her arms, Miguel was whispering indistinctly.
De la Cruz's overpowering and fierce appearance made the girl wonder how they had been able to believe he was a good person.
"I've worked too hard, Héctor. Too hard to let them destroy everything!" he spat out, his voice hitting a breaking note at the last words.
"They're just living children, Ernesto!"
Out of the corners of their eyes, the primos spotted tía Rosita angle a standing action camera in their direction, and tía Victoria pressed a button on a console panel nearby. A red light appeared beneath the lens of the camera.
It was recording.
"They're a threat!" Ernesto pointed at them angrily. "You think I'd let them go back to the Land of the Living with your photo, Héctor? To keep your memory alive? No."
Héctor shook his head in disbelief, the Riveras frozen.
Miguel and Rosa eyed each other briefly. It was time to set things right.
"You're a coward!" snapped the boy with new-found audacity, both of them rising to their feet.
The musician turned on his heels to face them, his eyes narrowing and voice gruff. "I am Ernesto de la Cruz, the greatest musician of all time!"
"Héctor's the real musician!" Rosa quipped, her hands balling up.
Miguel growled, "You're just the guy who murdered him and stole his songs!"
"You're a cruel and heartless thief who's lied to the entire world for almost a century! But not anymore."
It was so relieving to free the truth, let it fly over the world and bring justice!
That feeling of victory didn't last long, as de la Cruz hoisted them both to his eye-level by their shirts. His grip was too firm to struggle out of.
"I am the one who is willing to do what it takes to seize my moment." His eyes darkened. "Whatever it takes."
His guards arrived at the scene, every two of them restraining a dead Rivera from intervening. Imelda yelled something unclear and stomped her feet in hopes of striking her aggressors; Héctor tried fighting back, but he was drained by another shimmer; Rosita was begging to be let go; Victoria was following her abuelita's example, only alongside some curses; Julio, Óscar and Felipe had suddenly gone feral with wrath, but more guards showed up.
Ernesto hurled Rosa onto the floor mere feet away. She screeched when a sickening snap followed her muffled plop on the wood, grunting when she sealed a hand around her left ankle, her flat falling off. Her universe crumbled when, through blurry eyesight, she noticed de la Cruz tossing Miguel over the edge of the skyscraper. With a high-pitched "No!", she reached with an impotent hand towards the air where Miguel had floated less than a moment ago, his deafening scream vibrating in her mind.
Somewhere far away, her family were yelling, but their agonized shouts were barely whispers compared to the tumult within her. An ascending ache settled in her chest. Never had she had such a harrowing experience. Her whole body entered a phase of shrieking.
She wanted to crawl to the ledge to peek over it, but she was terrified of somehow being able to observe her primo's broken body on the pavement, even from this height, a sight she'd never endure.
Ernesto was standing with his legs at shoulder width, nonchalantly gazing down to the ground. His back was turned to her.
Indescribable rage fueled Rosa. Her hands itched to push him, her eyes itched to see his shattered skeleton. A life for a life, it was only fair…
Just as quick as her burning desire to make him fall emerged, it vanished without a trace, her fury decelerating until all that was left was a hollow numbness in her soul. She didn't even have the strength to sob. Tears she didn't even feel roll down her cheeks dripped onto the planks of wood, their blackness swallowing her. The world was a mist except for what she knew was lying at the bottom of the tower.
Vengeance wouldn't bring her Miguelito back. She'd only become a murderer, no different from de la Cruz.
Life drained from her. She crumbled to the ground, the cool wood brushing the side of her face.
How could a human being commit murder twice? How could someone be so cruel, heartless and selfish at the same time without facing any remorse?
It was over. She didn't care about dying anymore. That way, she'd get to be with Miguel here in the Land of the Dead. He'd not be alone in this.
Snippets of her life flashed before her eyes. Skipping in puddles alongside her cousin and older brother, baking cake with mamá, reading with papá, discovering her love for the violin, dancing in the plaza with Miguel, laughing with Manny and Benny…
What was joy if not what she felt when she was with her loved ones?
Would she ever feel that explosion of mirthful emotions after this tragedy?
No.
Never again.
It was impossible.
How could she still exist amidst all this sorrow?
A hand dug into her shoulder, turning her over, and Rosa's cobwebbed eyes met de la Cruz's murderous glare.
There were screams piercing the air, but they were in a different world. Ernesto moved his mouth, but her ears registered nothing. His shoe kicked her in the side and stomach, causing her to release a choking whimper, weakly turning her back to him, her ankle throbbing.
The physical pain awoke her to actuality. With the corner of her eye, she saw her relatives relentlessly struggling in the clutches of the guards, still shouting and cursing. Only Papá Héctor was looking at her, imploring his former best friend to leave her alone, shaken up by the death of his grandchild and her state. An occasional shimmer enfeebled him further.
De la Cruz grasped her ponytail, heaving her. Rosa wailed, tearing up and helplessly attempting to free herself. She was tossed farther towards the ledge, her temple meeting the cubical stones that marked the end of the roof, albeit she managed to soften the rough collision with her hands, which got scraped in the process.
Her head shot up, her gaze catching something in the distance.
A pair of glittering red and blue wings… A whinny echoed in her ears…
She noticed that Ernesto's polished white shoes were just a few metres away from her, stomping in her direction.
Despite her soul-consuming hurt, in a split second, Rosa's mind came back to life with a seed of hope at the possibility of escaping.
It was too late to save Miguel, but at least she would retrieve his body, or whatever was left of it. That thought made her ill and she almost vomited, but she couldn't bear to leave him here; she'd never forgive herself for that.
She only needed a leap of faith, which came easily considering she didn't have much to lose.
Before her attacker had the chance to get too close, Rosa found the last bits of strength to push herself over the ledge in one swift motion. She heard only the wind whipping as she tumbled into nothing. She repeated to herself that she'd be caught, she had to be…
She kept whirling with staggering speed, yelling at the top of her lungs. Her plan wouldn't fail, it wouldn't, it wouldn't–
Something hard caught her, and a yelp fell from her lips as she clutched Shania's mane with quivering hands. She adjusted her position, thanking heaven.
"Gracias, girl…" she hugged the pegasus around her neck, who whinnied in response. The tower seemed much taller now than the first time Rosa had seen it.
A roar alerted her attention. Her heart expanded a million times when Pepita with Miguel on her back joined them.
He's alright! He's alright!
Miguel was delighted to see her, but the saddened flicker in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.
The alebrijes reached the roof. De la Cruz was gone, and so were his guards.
Upon seeing their kids alive, the Riveras rushed to help them down and formed a tight group hug, mumbling all sorts of assurances, prayers and sighs of relief. Pepita and Shania padded to the stage, where they had to take care of a certain musician.
The cousins almost refused to let go of one another, but the moment of sheer joy was shattered when Héctor collapsed to his knees with another flash. Rosa and Miguel darted to his side, panting.
"Papá Héctor, I lost your photo…" his grandson cried out in desperation.
The skeleton cupped his cheek. "It's okay, mijo."
"I think I have retained the picture," said Rosa, trying to sound self-assured. "I can draw it at home and put it on our ofrenda."
They couldn't lose their great-great grandfather… They simply couldn't…
"Mija, our time is up." Héctor reached out to take her hand, but his body sone gold again, bringing him entirely to the floor. Utterly anxious, Miguel grabbed his arm while Rosa squeezed his hand.
"No! We can still find the photo!"
"Primo, there's no time left…"
Imelda knelt down beside her husband, her voice trembling, "Miguel, Rosa, it's sunrise…"
The first rays of the sun crossed the horizon.
The boy's eyes swam in tears. "No, no, no, we can't leave you, we promised we'd put your photo up. We promised you'd see Coco, Papá Héctor."
An icy shiver ran over Rosa's spine when she glimpsed her cousin's face; his skin was gradually turning invisible, his skull showing. There was no doubt that she looked the same. If she still had a heart, it would break her rib cage from panic.
Héctor took his petal out. "I just wanted Coco to know… that I loved her."
Shimmers continued to weaken him.
"You have our blessing, Miguel, Rosa."
Imelda surrounded his hands with hers.
"No conditions."
Miguel shook his head, both primos tearing up while the Riveras and their two alebrijes watched the scene with sorrow and regret.
Rosa felt how life was stolen from them, half the sun visible now. The emptiness of their bodies was horrifying. As much as leaving pained her, she and Miguel couldn't lose their lives. Begging wasn't going to do anything. Accepting the blessing and returning home would. There was a tiny chance that they could save their grandfather.
"We love you all. We promise we won't let Coco forget you."
With that, her hand folded around Miguel's - who promised the same thing in unison - and reached for the petal.
The last thing they saw before cempasúchil engulfed them was their ancestors' loving smiles…
A/N:
Well... it's done. They're finally back in the Land of the Living! I thought that changing the rooftop scene would make things more dramatic. Miguel isn't the only one who'll have to overcome trauma... But don't worry, all this angst comes with some comfort and fluff later!