•Pixar One Shots•

•:Remember Me:•

So I recently just watched Coco and I loved it so much! The ending made me cry! XD (I'm an emotional idiot). So I really wanted to write this one shot. Hope you enjoy!

The tradition still carried on. Certain families all have weird traditions. Whether they're making shoes or letting them seize their passions. On Día de los Muertos (the day of the dead), the Rivera family let's their passions fly.

Miguel eventually grew up with many changes. Mama Coco passing away, and him starting his own family. He eventually completed school and met a young girl named Karíssa. They were engaged and gave birth to a little girl named Makena. Every day of the dead, Miguel would share the story to his daughter of how he crossed the land of the dead and met his great great great grandfather, Héctor. The story taught Makena the meaning of family and discovering what your true passion is. Miguel also taught Makena music. Makena really found interest in music. He taught her how to play the guitar and sing. Though she'd never admit it, she loved to sing and play. Makena enjoyed these stories and hoped that their family would never disappear from her life.

But everything changed when Miguel fell ill.

He had fallen very ill. Makena was only 11- almost 12 when it happened. No one knows how he had become so sick, but they knew he wasn't gonna make it. He was going to pass.

Miguel was in the hospital and it would only be a few minutes before he would be put to sleep. "Before I go." Miguel said in a choked voice. "I want to speak to my daughter one more time."

The doctor nodded his head. He opened up the door to the waiting room where Karíssa and Makena sat, depressed. "Makena?" Makena looked up to the Doctor. "Your father wishes to speak to you." Makena looked at her mother, scared. Karíssa mouthed the words, 'It'll be alright'. Makena took a deep breath and walked up the door. She peered inside and saw her broken father in bed.

"Hey, mi hija," Miguel greeted. He patted the bed. "Come sit." She came and sat down next to him.

"Yes, Papa?" She said with a choked voice.

"Mi hija," he began. "Do not weep for me. I'll be ok."

Tears— feeling like pools- began to form in her eyes. Papa, I'm gonna miss you so much. I don't know what will happen to you when you're gone."

"I'll be ok." He grabbed her hand. "Remember the stories I would tell you on Día de los Muertos?" She nodded her head. "Well, I'm going to be reunited with our passed familia. I'll be in the land of dead. I'll see your great great great great grandmother Imelda, I'll see Mama Coco, your great Tío's Oscar and Felipe, your great Tía Rosita-"

"And Héctor."

Miguel smiled. "And Héctor." He pulled out the picture of Héctor that he hid behind him. "He was a great man. The one who showed me the passions of being a musician and I'll see him once again."

"Will I ever see you again, Papa?"

"Of course. As long as you remember me, I'll be alive and I'll see you every day on the day of the dead." He pulled out a picture of himself and handed it to his daughter. "As long as you hang up this picture on that day, I'll be able to come visit you. You won't see me, but you'll be able to feel my presence. Same thing with Héctor and all the others."

Makena studied the portrait of her father then turned to the portrait of the smiling man with his wife and daughter. He held the guitar in his hand. Makena thought for a moment. "Papa, when you're gone, who's gonna take ahold of your- er Héctor's guitar?"

Miguel pulled out the guitar that was laying on the side of his bed. "That's another thing," he plucked one of the strings. "I'm giving it to you."

Makena shook her head in shock. "No, Papa. Not you and Héctor's guitar. That's your pride!"

"Yes, hija. I want you to have it." He handed it to her. Ever so carefully, she held it in her arms. It was pretty big but she felt special holding such a family memorial item. Miguel thought for a moment. "Makena, would you sing a song for me and play as I move on to the world waiting for me?"

Makena cringed. "Papa, I don't sing."

"Just this once," Miguel said with a cough. "I want you to sing 'Remember Me'. For me?"

Makena didn't wanna push away her fathers dying wish. So, she plucked a few strings and turned some of the pegs. She took a deep breath and started to sing. "Remember me.
Though I have to say goodbye."

Then Miguel. "Remember me." He placed his hand on her daughters cheek. "Don't let it make you cry."

Warm tears flowed down Makena's face. She sang some more. "For ever if I'm far away. I hold you in my heart."

"I sing a secret song to you. Each night we are apart."

"Remember me. Though I have to travel far."

Miguel's voice became more broken. "Remember me. Each time you hear a sad guitar."

Then then sang in unison. "Know that I'm with you. The only way that I can be." Miguel rubbed the cheek of her daughters tearful face. "Until you're in my arms again." Miguel's voice went quiet while he slowly closed his eyes. "Remember me." His hand slowly dropped as the computer made a long beep sound. Makena stopped playing as she sobbed quietly to herself. Her father was gone. She looked over to his deceased body and calmly took the picture of himself out of his hands. She stared at it. A tear fell on the photo, making it soggy. "I'll remember you Papa." And with a pluck of another string, she stuffed the picture in her pocket.

•••

Miguel opened his eyes and noticed the orange petal bridge, waiting for him. He stood up and noticed how bony he was. He was truly dead. "Bark!" Miguel looked forward and saw Dante running towards him. His glowing colors gleamed and danced as he ran to his best friend.

"Hola, Dante!" He patted his friend and gave him a big hug. "I missed you, boy!" Dante barked and pulled on his pant leg, telling him to come. Miguel followed.

They trudged down the bridge and into the colorful city of the dead. It was just like what Miguel remembered— only brighter.

There, waiting at the end of the bridge, was his family. He ran to them smiling big, tears in his eyes. He gave Rosita a big hug, his uncles handshakes, Mama Coco a kiss, and Imelda a tight, warm hug. Then, there was Héctor.

Miguel pulled away from Imelda and saw him smiling at him. He was alive, remembered, and well. Not even thinking, Miguel hugged him tight. Héctor wrapped his arms around him, too.

Héctor looked at his great great grandson. "Bienvenidos." He said. "Welcome home."