Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Disney and Pixar.

A pale blue light filled Coco's blurred vision as she opened her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear her vision. She sat up from where she lay on a bed that was not her own. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed a few other people—no, not flesh and blood people, but skeletons—also in the process of coming to. Most were elderly like herself. And despite their skeletal form, Coco didn't feel compelled to scream or gasp. She looked down at her own hands and found them to be skeletal as well. She studied the room again, noticing a sign above one door that read, "Recién Llegados." Skeletons wearing some sort of official uniforms and carrying clipboards moved to and fro, conversing quietly with skeletons who were fully awake, and writing their responses down on the clipboards.

So this was death. Coco hadn't expected it to be so...clerical.

A skeletal woman approached Coco and greeted her. "¡Bienvenidos a la Tierra de los Muertos! My name is Amelia Ramirez, and I'm here to check you in and take you down to the Bureau of Family Reunions. Can I get your name and cause of death, please?"

Coco paused and thought back. To her momentary surprise, she found the details of her final moments to be crystal clear. She'd spend the last seven years of her life in a fog ever increasing in density, and it had scared and saddened her, knowing she was forgetting her precious familia, and not being able to do anything about it. If it weren't for Miguel and his guitar, bringing music back into the Rivera house, she might have slipped away altogether before breathing her last. She couldn't bear the idea of leaving the world without remembering those who were dearest to her.

"Me llamo Socorro Rivera," Coco responded. "I am 100 years old, and as far as I know, I died of old age, or of complications from dementia, or possibly both." She chuckled and added, "I suppose dementia is no longer a problem here. My mind is clear as a summer sky."

The secretary scribbled Coco's responses on her notepad. "And do you have immediate family members who will be expecting you, Señora Rivera?"

"¡Ay, sí! Mi mamá y papá, mi marido Júlio, y mi hija Victória. Where are they?"

Amelia gave the elderly woman a gentle smile. She never liked hearing that a new arrival had a child already there, waiting for them. But at the same time, it was always very touching to see parent and offspring reunited. "They will be called to BFR once we've processed your paperwork. If you'd like to take another moment to get acclimated, or if you have any questions before we move on, please feel free to ask."

Coco shook her head. "I want to see my familia," she insisted, swinging her legs around and off the bed.

Amelia rushed to steady her, nearly dropping her clipboard in the process. "¡Ay, espera, por favor, Señora! This is a new experience for you! You might find you're a bit wobbly on your feet."

"Nonsense, my feet have never been better," Coco said defiantly. But as she put weight on her feet, she found Amelia was right. After nearly 20 years of her life restricted to a wheelchair, Coco's legs weren't as eager to support her as she was to be supported by them. She took the hand Amelia offered and gingerly stood. She took a moment to get used to the sensation of standing on legs that had no muscle anymore, then nodded to her helper to move forward. After only a few slow steps, Coco found her footing, and began to move independently.

"See? I only needed a moment. Now, vamos, we must meet my family."

Once in the office, Coco waited as the clerk behind the desk—a small man with glasses taped to the bridge of his nose socket—filed her paperwork and made the appropriate phone calls. Coco shuffled her feet, paced and muttered to herself, eager for her family to arrive. She had so much to tell them; about the grandkids and great-grandkids; how the family business was faring; how the youngest Rivera had been named for her; how Miguel had brought music back into their lives and restored the honor and memory of Papá Héctor. And oh, how badly she wanted to see her papá again! 97 years was far too long to live without hearing his melodic voice reassuring her of his love with his lullabies.

To pass the time, Coco began to hum "Remember Me." She closed her eyes and recalled the last time she'd seen her father. Surely he would be thrilled to be reunited with her.

Unless he wasn't there.

What if Mamá had banished Papá from the family in death as she had in life? What if Papá was nowhere to be found?

Coco didn't have much time to entertain these doubts, as the door to the office soon burst open, and the little old lady found herself surrounded and embraced by her relatives who had gone before her. They hit like a flash flood, and Coco didn't even have time to match faces to memories, photos or names. Everyone spoke at once of how happy they were to finally be reunited with her. Their voices all blended together. Coco sighed in happy resignation as she allowed her family to smother her in affection. This was, after all, payback for all the times she had done similar to Enrique and his siblings when they were children.

After a few moments, the family stepped back to give Coco some breathing room, allowing her to look to each of them in turn. She immediately recognized her twin tios, her sister-in-law, her beloved husband, her precious baby girl who had been taken from her far too soon, and of course, her mother and long-lost (but thankfully not forgotten) father. The last of these had his arm wrapped around his wife's waist, and she leaned comfortably into him. Tears somehow managed to well in Coco's eye sockets as she took in the fact that her parents were together again.

"Mamá! Papá! Júlio, mi amor! Oh, and Victória, mija! I don't know who to hug and kiss first! I've missed you all so terribly!"

The Riveras laughed as the named family members scooped up Coco in another embrace.

Coco clung tightly to Júlio and Victória as she studied her parents. "Mamá, you accepted Papá back into the family!"

Imelda smiled at her husband. "Well, I may have had a bit of persuasion from a certain great-great-grandson of ours."

Coco grimaced. "Miguel told me all about that awful De La Cruz and what he did to you, Papá."

Héctor waved her off. "It's all in the past, mija. I'm just so happy I got to see you again. Before..." His face fell as he trailed off. He shook his head. "Anyway, the important thing is we are together again."

"Yes, and we must celebrate!" Rosita declared. "Tonight, Riveras, I shall cook!"

The Rivera clan gave a collective groan.

"Please, hermanita, let Victória or Imelda cook," Júlio said. "You never did master the art."

Júlio gave a yelp as Rosita socked him in the arm and scolded him for that remark. Coco chuckled. The siblings were at it again. For all that they bickered (which was constantly, even as adults), they loved each other dearly.

The Riveras set out from the office toward home. Coco walked arm in arm with Júlio for a bit, every once in a while glancing over at Victória, a bit bewildered by the fact that she was there, living and breathing (so to speak). Pneumonia was an awful illness, and Coco still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that it had taken her younger daughter so soon. She also noted for the first time in decades just how much Victória resembled her grandmother, who was walking beside her and discussing the menu for that evening. Odd that they still had regular meals here, given that as skeletons, they shouldn't really need to eat anymore.

Suddenly, Coco noticed that her papá wasn't with the group. She glanced behind her and saw him well back from the rest of the family, head down, hands in his pocket, sort of shuffling along, as if he were still reluctant to join his family after so long apart from them.

"Go ahead without me, mi amor," she said to Júlio, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I want to talk to Papá alone."

Júlio nodded and let her fall back.

Coco paused in her steps and waited for Héctor to catch up. She found it a bit strange that he appeared to be in his early 20s, while she still looked the part of a centenarian. But he was still her papá, and just as importantly, he was here with her.

"Papá, you seem down," she said. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, mija. I'm just...overwhelmed. So much has changed for me in these last few months. I've finally got a family again. I suppose it just takes some getting used to."

Coco wasn't buying it. One thing all the Rivera women had in common was they could see immediately through a facade. Whatever reason her father had to be sad on this joyous day, Coco wasn't going to tolerate it.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Papá," she said sternly, pulling him to a halt. "We are not taking one more step until you do."

Héctor's eyes met Coco's. He could see the same stubbornness and love in those eyes that he had always seen in Imelda's. He wasn't getting out of this interrogation. He sighed.

"Well...you look..." He gestured to her, searching for the words he wanted. "You look like you've lived a full life. While I'm forever 21." He gave a half-hearted chuckle, recalling learning from a much younger inhabitant of the Land of the Dead about some company by that name in los Estados Unidos. "I...I spent years trying to cross that marigold bridge on Dia de los Muertos, only to be dragged back every time. I didn't get to see you grow up. I didn't get to meet anyone in our family until they started arriving here. I was...hurt...to learn I had a granddaughter here. She lived her entire life without knowing about me, or I about her. I missed it all."

Coco reached over and took Héctor's hand in her own, giving it a comforting squeeze as Héctor struggled to maintain his composure. He was quickly losing that battle as he continued speaking.

"I missed seeing you off to school on your first day. I missed your wedding. I missed the birth of your children. I wanted so badly to see you before you arrived here; to see you living your life. I missed all of it, because I was stupid enough to think the answer to my music was out there on the road. And all my foolishness got me was murdered by my best friend."

Héctor sank to his knees in despair, bringing Coco down with him. She embraced him as he wept.

"I-I'm so sorry, mija! I'm sorry I left! I'm sorry I missed it all! Please, please forgive me!"

Coco felt tears running down her cheekbones as well, but at the moment didn't feel like questioning how skeletons could cry. She kept her father in a hug, allowing him to cry it all out before speaking. When she finally did, she said, "Oh, Papá, I forgave you long before Mamá even passed. And now that I know it wasn't your fault, I know there was never anything to forgive."

Héctor looked up, meeting Coco's eyes again. She smiled warmly at him, and he found himself returning the smile. "Gracias, mi Socorro preciosa."

Coco's grin grew wider. She loved it when he called her that.

"I just..." he continued, "I can't believe I let a misguided dream keep me from my family."

"Nothing is keeping you from us now, Papá. Let's not miss anything else."

Héctor nodded and pulled Coco's face close to his own, touching their foreheads together, just the way they used to do when he would sing to her at night.

The two of them heard the sound of footsteps, and turned just in time to see Imelda kneeling to join them. She pulled her husband and daughter into a hug. The three senior members of clan Rivera sat like that for several minutes, drinking in one another's presence, enjoying the forgiveness and healing that saturated the atmosphere around them.

Finally, Imelda rose. "Come, you two, we've got a welcome dinner to prepare."

Héctor and Coco also stood, and the three of them linked arms and continued on their way to the Rivera household.

Coco felt warmth rise in her chest cavity, where she could've sworn some form of her heart was still beating. At long last, her family was together. And that's what mattered most.