A/N: Done for the CocoLocos Angst Off. Prompt for the first half is: "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry." Second half is "Please"

Quick note, when Miguel dies in the Land of the Dead, a copy of his body is made in the last place he was in the Land of the Living.

Miguel felt a cold sweat shoot through him as he fell, his own screaming rang through his ears along the wind rushing past him with a deafening force. He was jerked in the air by Dante desperately trying to catch him, from it, Papa Héctor's photo flew from his hand. Where it went? He didn't know.

It didn't seem to matter at that moment as he quickly fell through Dante's jaws and a sharp pain went through his spine moments after. A flash of bright orange, blues, greens, and yellows crossed his vision before everything went blank.

No, no, he needed to get back home. He needed to make sure Papá Héctor wasn't forgotten.

He couldn't sleep now, he needed to wake up.

Wake up.

With a harsh gasp he finally shot forward from where he lay on the ground, his hands involuntarily clenching for he no longer had a heart to clench. His eyes took too long to readjust their surroundings, but when they did, he found he was in a place he did not recognize.

He searched wildly trying to find his family, but only found other, unfamiliar, skeletons on the ground around him, all looking like they too, had just woken up.

"Papá Hect-"

His head swiveled around to meet an officer leaning down and looking at him with a warm smile while offering their hand.

"Hola niño, welcome to the Land of the Dead," They said in a soft voice, as if they were trying to coax a scared animal out of hiding.

"Who- Wh-Where's my family? Where am I?" He asked quickly, getting up on his own but feeling an uncomfortable ripple go through him, as if he were entirely bone, but that couldn't be right, he still had time.

The officer gave a sullen look, but a familiar one, like they had done this before, "I'm sorry niño bu-"

"-Where's de la Cruz?" Miguel interrupted, looking around wildly at the area before him, not caring how rude he was.

They appeared to be on a marigold bridge, far on the outskirts of the rest of the Land of the Dead, far from the sunrise spectacular. How did he get here?

"Where's the Sunrise Spectacular?" He asked, pushing the urgency in his voice.

The officer, whose soft look of concern had changed to that of confusion at the mention of de la Cruz, gave and even more perplexed look at Miguel.

"How, how do you know about that?" They asked, Miguel felt an increasingly nervous jitter go through him, "The living don't know about that…"

"I'm "The Living Boy"!" Miguel said, using the alias that had been following him since he had arrived to the Land of the Dead.

The officer's eyes widened as a look of horror crossed their face.

"Oh no-" They whispered, but Miguel ran off before they could finish.

He did not like what any of this was implying. He needed to get to the Sunrise Spectacular, he needed to get to Papa Héctor. He still had time. He still had time.

"Niño! Wait!" The officer cried out, chasing after him down the Marigold bridge, "Where are you going?"

"I need to get to the Sunrise Spectacular!" Miguel shouted back, not stopping for a moment.

"You need to be registered first!" The officer shouted back, dodging a skeleton meandering down the bridge and taking in the view before them, "Then we can find you family!"

"I know where my family is!" Miguel yelled out, seeing the welcome bridge coming closer, but this one was different than the other bridges, there was no exit, there were no skeletons coming through and leaving the Land of the Dead, there were no scanners.

Miguel didn't dwell on the fact for long as he heard the unmistakable roar of Pepita come from above him.

"Pepita!" He yelled happily, running to where she was landing.

With a swift movement Miguel pulled himself onto her back and called out for her to go.

"Wait! Wait!" The officer cried out, still chasing after Miguel and he and Pepita took to the skies.

Pepita took a sharp turn and Miguel could see the light of the sun slowly streaming into the sky.

No, no, they still had time, they still had time.

Squinting against the wind he caught sight of the arena that the Sunrise Spectacular was being held in not far off.

Come on, come on. He kept chanting in his head, leaning forward against Pepita's back. They still had time.

Pepita barely slowed as she circled the arena, Miguel looked wildly around for his family at the back, barely catching the scattered audience and dark empty stage. She swirled around and landed right where Miguel had been before de la Cruz had picked him up and tossed him off the ledge. Miguel felt a panic rush through him at the thought, but it was easily overthrown by the panic that went through him when he spotted his dead family all sitting huddled together.

Without a moments hesitation he leapt off her back and ran towards his family, Papa Héctor was distinctly not with them, but still, he cried out.

"Papá Héctor?!"

They all looked up at Miguel as he practically slid on his knees before them. In the center of the huddle, he finally recognized, was Mamá Imelda crumpled into herself, Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe's arms crossed over her back in a comforting gesture.

At the sound of his voice she uncurled from herself, slowly leaning up and raising her head to look him in the eye.

"Wh-" Miguel choked, afraid of the broken face of his Mamá Imelda before him, of her wide eyes that held far too much sorrow for the fire that had been in them before. She blinked owlishly at him as he mouth gape, disbelieving at his presence.

His question had been answered in that one look, but he still needed to ask it.

"Where is Papá Héctor?" He asked in a near whisper.

There was a crinkle of her brow, letting the sorrow of her eyes show on her face and wipe away the blankness of her shock. Her hands, which had been tightly clenched and pressed against her chest, slowly reached out and touched his face.

The contact of bone against bone as she cupped his skull in her hands was unmistakable, and Miguel felt everything else both fall away and come surging forward. The lightness of the sky came filtering into his vision as an icy grip took ahold of his bones. That's all that there was left of him.

"Oh Miguel, what have I done?" She whispered, her voice soft like a scared child, "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

A harsh clamp went through his chest and he let out an ugly, ragged breath.

He was too late.

Papa Héctor had been forgotten, he was gone from this world, and with him, Miguel was gone from the living world.

This night had been the worst night of his life, and as Enrique watched the sun rise from where he still wandered the streets of what was an unfamiliar part of Santa Cecelia, he hoped it wouldn't continue into the worst day of his life. An entire night of searching and he had not once found any sign of Miguel or where he went, none of them had. It was like his son had vanished.

Enrique thought he was going insane.

His eyes blinked rapidly, desperate for rest, his legs ached from how he wandered the streets all night, and his bones still shook from the cold and the fear of what could have happened to Miguel. He wanted to stop, to rest, to see the familiar walls of his home and the smiles of his family. But he couldn't, not until Miguel was found, not until he was home safe.

Please, please, PLEASE, he repeated in his head over and over as he turned another unfamiliar corner. There was no one there but he called out again and again for Miguel, hoping, hoping that he would finally come out of hiding. At least he hoped Miguel was only hiding, as the night wore on and on, the fear that something happened to Miguel became stronger and stronger. Miguel was smart, but he was still only a boy, there were still so many things that could happen to him, Enrique was sure that he had thought of them all while he wandered.

Another cry for Miguel.

Please, please, come out. Come back.

The sound of his steps against the ground and his weakening voice seemed to be the only things he could hear, and they repeated through his head like some sick kind of beat. Curse this music, curse it for hiding his son away, curse it for mocking him now. Curse it for everything that it had done to his family in the past century and more.

"Tío Enrique! Tío Enrique!" He heard from a distance, breaking the awful repetition of his steps. He turned towards the sound.

Abel was far down the street sprinting towards Enrique, a look of worry on his face that caused a chill to run up Enrique's spine. He didn't let it stop him from moving, as he broke out into a run to meet Able half way.

Both skirted to a stop in front of each other and Able bent over, hands on his knees and gasping for breath. He must have ran halfway across town to find Enrique.

"What is it? Did they find Miguel?" Enrique asked, not hiding the desperation in his voice.

Able took another set of heavy breaths before looking up, he didn't answer immediately and it took everything in Enrique's wild, exhausted state to not yell at his nephew for his personal impatience.

"They found-" Gasp "-A child." He said.

Enrique stared at him, blinking wildly at the vague statement.

"W-hat?" He asked.

"At-" another gasp, "At the panteón," He specified, "They found a child's body."

Body.

Body.

Everything about that phrasing sent panic surging through him.

"Was is Miguel?!"

"I don't know," Able replied with a shake of his head, "Someone just went running through the area yelling that a child's body was found at the panteón. Papá sent me to find you while he got the rest of the family to go and find out if it was Miguel."

"Well then let's go!" Enrique cried out, not wasting a moment before breaking out into a sprint in the direction Abel came from.

He couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears and his heavy footsteps slamming against the ground, easily forgetting his previous exhaustion for the sudden adrenalin surging through him. He didn't know if Able was right behind him, all he knew was that he needed to get to the panteón as soon as possible.

Please don't be Miguel. Please don't be Miguel, he pleaded in his head as a ran. Finally finding a familiar road and turning onto it. Yes, he wanted to find Miguel, but everything about that phrasing, that word, body, it scared him.

Another few turns and Enrique saw the arch of the panteón in his sights, people gathering around the entrance with concerned, curious looks. He yelled for them to move, and many did, watching as he danced around the few that did not hear and began to weave his way around the graves and people.

"Excuse me, please, I need to get through!" He said, shoving his way through the small crowd.

The people were gathered around the de la Cruz mausoleum, and Enrique made his way there, shouting for his family, for someone to see him and confirm that his worst fears weren't true.

He finally burst his way through to see the front of the mausoleum more easily. Gloria finally looked up from his shouting. They made eye contact through the sea of people but the grave look his sister gave him no relief. It was the same way she watched their mamá after Tía Victoria passed, it was so much fear and sorrow.

He pushed through harder.

"Please! Please! I have to get through!" He cried out.

People noticed him and shuffled out of the way, but not nearly as fast as he needed them to. As he got closer he heard it, the horrifying, unmistakable sound of Luisa crying. It echoed through his head like a heavy bell and sent a piercing spike through his heart. He had heard Luisa cry many a time, but it was never like that, it was never that harsh, that hollow.

He cried out of her as he continued to shove. Almost there, he was almost there, how could he ever leave her alone? How could he have ever sent her home while he futilely continued to search for their son on his own?

He finally broke through the crowd to find the circle of his family, but none of them mattered for what he saw in the middle.

There in the center, was Luisa on her knees, her body bowed over, hiding the body that she held, legs with Rivera boots coming out from the cocoon she made.

No.

He said her name one last time, now coming out as nothing more than a whisper, before collapsing on his knees in front of them.

She slowly lifted her head from where it was protectively bowed over to look at Enrique. Shiny, wet tears covered her blotchy face, a harsh gasp came from her as she shook her head and looked away from him. He looked down to what she held.

Draped across her lap was the limp body of Miguel.

A/N: I do have more but it'll be a long time coming before I even look at the next chapter, I have other fics to finish first.