IT SEEMED THAT I DREAMED ABOUT YOU
This story takes place the night after Miguel has returned to the Land of the Living in the 2017 movie.
I do not own any of the characters, this is a fanfiction written just for fun 💕
Miguel couldn't sleep that night. Sure, he managed to make abuelita change her mind about music, he also managed to keep papá Héctor's memory alive in mama Coco's mind, but... there was nothing that could assure him that Héctor didn't encounter the final death. For all he knew, his great-great-grandfather could have turned to dust the minute he left the Land of the Dead.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, all tucked up in his blanket, which then he pulled all over his face. A strand of short, black hair got in his left eye, so he began to blow as much as he could to get it out of the way.
Miguel just couldn't take it anymore.
He got up and silently sneaked out of his bedroom, trying the best he could to be careful, for he feared he could wake up the entire family in the middle of the night, and tiptoed all his way to the Ofrenda room.
Everything was still set up, being that the last day of celebration for el Día de los Muertos. He shivered. Maybe his ancestors were still there, watching every step he took. Miguel turned around looking for a sign, a hint... anything that could tell him what he needed to know. But nothing happened. He prayed so hard the wind to blow hints at him through the marigold petals, still assembled on the floor to create a path that would guide his ancestors home... "Maybe" he thought, "maybe they'll glow, just like they did as I was crossing the bridge." He stared intensely at them, but everything remained still.
Glancing at the photos on the Ofrenda he focused on the one portraying his great-great-grandparents. All he could do was stare at papá Hector's face, wondering if the tape that was holdin the ripped photo was enough to let him cross the bridge on next year's Día de los Muertos.
Once again the boy checked of anyone was outside and when he was sure everyone was still asleep - no light in the entire house was lit up - he reached for the photo, taking it down with him, being careful not to break anything in the process. He sat on the cold floor with his legs crossed and took a deep breath as if he were about to perform on the stage, but when he opened his mouth no song came out. Instead...
«Papá Héctor, please... I... I hope I've made it in time.» His throat began to hurt when Miguel tried to hold back his tears. «I--» He sighed, again. «I want you to know that I've made it: mamá Coco remembers you. I... I've kept my promise.» He pressed the frame against his chest and let tears finally stream down his burning cheeks. «Please, please, please... I need to know.» The soft petals git pressed on his limbs as he crouched on the floor and kept on sobbing desperately in need of a sign. He could swear he saw a yellow glimpse, before everything around him disappeared into pitch black.
«Mijo.» A voice echoed all around him, but it was too soft to be heard. «Mijo, it's okay. Everything is fine.» Cold, boney fingers run through his hair and then moved on his cheek as if they were trying to get rid of the marks left by the tears. Miguel was took off-guard as he suddenly found himself wrapped by two long arms. «Thank you, gordito, I'm so, so proud of you.»
When Miguel realized whose voice was that his eyes widened as he pulled back from the hug just to be sure his guess was right.
«Papá Héctor!» Miguel cried, grinning from ear to ear as he immediately launched himself at his great-great-grandpa, hugging him so tightly that they both lost balance and fell on the ground, as the whole family was standing behind them, watching the whole scene tenderly. Mamá Imelda even came closer, giving Miguel the softest look he'd ever seen. «I will never forget what you did for us all, mijo. Thank you, Miguel.»
He rubbed his eyes, still trying to process what he believed he saw last night. He was so concentrated on the words he heard that he barely paid attention to abuelita's voice.
«Miguel! We thought you ran away again, I was so worried!» Elena said, visibly relieved to see her niño safe and sound. Even before he could answer she added, «Don't tell me you slept in here!»
«N-nothing!» shouted Miguel while quickly getting up and smiling, proudly showing his only dimple. He held his own wrist in total embarrassment: he didn't mean to stay that long in the Ofrenda room. «I--» His heel stepped on the photo he hold on tight all night and suddenly he knew what he had to to. «I have to go, abuelita! I have... this thing. I have... to--» He took the frame with him and swiftly went back to his bedroom, ignoring every "Miguel!" abuelita Elena was shouting.
Still panting, he reached for a pen, an old piece of paper and his beloved new guitar. A smile lightened up his face, for this time a song was crowling his way out of Miguel's heart and he wanted to let it free.
He started to hum it, at first under his breath, while writing the notes he thought most suited it.
«Say that I'm crazy, or call me a fool.» Miguel was tring to keep the pace between his mind and his hand, forcing the latter to write faster than he ever had.
«But last night it seemed that I dreamed about you...» Papá Hector's seemed to watch his moves all throughout the composition of the song and Miguel never forgot to look at his photo, carefully placed on his desk, whenever he needed some inspiration. Later he also convinced his abuelita to keep it there until the next Día de los Muertos. He finally knew he made it: all his family was still there supporting him and nobody was going to be left out anymore.
«When I opened my mouth what came out was a song, and you knew every word... and we all sang along!»
ellievsbear
