#but in por oscar is the only one i trust to just fly out there and zip zip zoom

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

bruh he rly can't be stopped

ike was in second place at 95 wins, let that sink in for a minute

[ichaisme]

Still They Linger Chapter 2

Note: In a non-spoiler note, I decided to name the head clerk at the department of family reunions ‘Gabriel’. As far as I could tell he didn’t have a name, and his voice actor is Gabriel Iglesias, so I thought it’d be a nice nod to him. As usual, I’d be happy to hear criticisms of my writing in any way shape or form. This one took longer than I expected to write given the length of it, sorry for the delay to anyone reading.

Chapter 1: http://ichabodandmrtoad.tumblr.com/post/172576766518/coco-still-they-linger

          Once the house had settled down, Miguel snuck out and rejoined his dead family at the family ofrenda. While Héctor gave him a happy little wave, the rest were heavily involved in a discussion of what could be going on. Miguel took this time to look around. Could he just walk back into the land of the dead as is? It seemed the answer would be no. He could see the skeletons, but they had just… appeared, around where he remembered the end of the bridge being. Even now, as he poked his head out towards the cemetery, all he saw was the candle lights. With how big he remembered the bridge being, he should have been able to see SOMETHING of it. He could still touch everything in the land of the living, and based on Héctor’s duet with him earlier in the night, they still interacted with him as if he was part of the land of the living too. If he wanted to get back to the land of the dead then, he had to curse himself again.

“Hopefully everything’s fine… maybe this is a good thing, even! He can keep us updated on how the rest of the family is doing!” Héctor felt someone give him a poke, and he reached with a smile to ruffle Miguel’s hair. Another second passed before realization hit. “…Wait. What happened to you?!”

“I took an apple from the ofrenda. Sorry, mamá Imelda… I needed to get cursed again so I can cross the bridge!”

She gave him a disapproving look, but didn’t outright respond to him. Part of her wanted to tell him that she didn’t care about an apple in this situation, but… with how curses seemed to work, it might come off as a blessing. The last thing she wanted was to force him to find something that would ACTUALLY make her mad if he stole it so the curse would stick. She just held her tongue, let out a breath, and started back toward the marigold bridge.

“Let’s go then.”

The man at the gate gave them a wide smile as they approached, but it quickly wavered at sight of Miguel. “Welcome back! I… see you have something to declare. Again?”

“You still remember me?” Miguel asked, eyes widening a bit in surprise.

“After everything that happened last year? How could we not? That was some pretty scary stuff! Glad you’re still alive after that sunrise spectacular, amigo.” He gave Miguel a reassuring smile, then turned his attention back to the rest of the family. “Why is he back?”

Coco stepped forward, placing her hands on Miguel’s shoulders protectively. “We need to speak to the head clerk in family reunions, por favor...”

While the guards quickly ushered them back to the proper department, Héctor marveled at the varied reactions to their presence. Héctor on his own had been a well-known face through his decades of attempts to cross over. Miguel then drew the attention of not just the guards, but everyone in the land of the dead… and together, he realized, they had a sort of… magnetic infamy. It was a bit like watching a catastrophe in slow motion. Did those watching want to just ignore them and go about their lives in peace, or watch and see what ELSE the Rivera family had up their sleeves? More than a few passersby decided to watch, and he tried to insulate Miguel from the stares by keeping him squarely in the middle of their little family group.

“Oye, Gabriel!” One guard said, knocking on the doorway of the head clerk’s office, “We’ve got some people here to see you.”

At first, Gabriel didn’t look up from his work, just gesturing to let them come in. Imelda strode right up to his desk, arms crossed and staring him down. He nearly leapt out of his chair in shock once he saw who it was, the papers in his hand going flying in all directions.

“OH! I-it’s you! What… brings you here?” He peeked around her, scanning the group until he located Miguel. “He’s cursed again?”

“Only so we could bring him here.”

He gestured Miguel forward. The boy gave him a nervous smile, shrugging his shoulders, “I can still see you.” At the incredulous look, he quickly added, “I mean, of course I can see you RIGHT NOW! I mean that when I’m /not/ cursed, I can still see you.”

The clerk sighed, quietly rifling through his files as he thought.  “Hmm… Have you tried cursing and uncursing him again?”

“Have they tried what? I’m not a phone!” Miguel exclaimed, while Hector just furrowed his brow in confusion at his statement.

“Look, you’re already halfway there! Just give him your blessing, send him back, and see if that did anything. If it fixed it, then we’re fine. If it didn’t, he can just re-curse himself and we can continue from there. Just… try it.”

Without any other options, they decided to go along with it. Gabriel smiled as the blessing was given and Miguel disappeared, nodding a bit to himself, “Everything should be fine now. He probably won’t come back, and you’ll be able to enjoy the rest of your Día de Muertos in—” Miguel appeared in front of them once more with a frown, “—Peace. Oh.”

He looked between Miguel and his family, weary look on his face. This… was going to take a while.

“So… let’s go over that night one more time,” he said with a sigh, righting his scattered papers. “You stole Héctor’s guitar. This caused a family curse, because you stole from the dead. The guitar was at Héctor’s grave?”

Miguel grimaced, rubbing his arm, “Well… No.”

“My grave is somewhere in Mexico City…” Héctor added quietly, a pained look on his face. Coco took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“The guitar was… you know…” The clerk gave a knowing nod, jotting down that note.

“In Mr. De la Cruz’s mausoleum.” Miguel grimaced at mention of the name. “Then there’s the problem! You’re still cursed.”

“WHAT?!” Imelda marched over to slam her hands down on Gabriel’s desk, causing him to jump. “It was a /family/ curse. You said that yourself! That MURDERER is not family! We gave Miguel our blessing!”

Gabriel pushed his chair back, more for the distance from Imelda’s rage than anything. He’d dealt with angry families many times before. It was simply part of the job. Imelda though… she was a force of her own, and he wouldn’t wish this task on anyone else. Still, he carefully started looking through files, pointedly avoiding her gaze and explaining as he did. “Y-yes, it was… mostly… a family curse. But he DID steal from Mr. De la Cruz’s mausoleum. Something you did not tell me before, I might add.”

“What he took was my papá’s guitar! That man had no right to have it in the first place!” Coco exclaimed. Her grip on Héctor’s hand tightened, and Héctor couldn’t help but wince at the anger behind it.

“While true, it was still in his mausoleum. Miguel, how did you get in?”

Again the boy shrunk in on himself a bit, looking guilty. “…I broke the lock on the window.”

“See, that’s what I thought happened. You damaged the mausoleum, and you stole from it. On Día de Muertos. You see where I’m going with this?”

Oscar and Felipe shared a horrified look, “You don’t mean…”

“…To break this OTHER curse, we have to…”

Gabriel nodded, “Find Mr. de la Cruz and get his forgiveness for the damage done to the mausoleum.”

           Imelda whipped her boot off in an instant, and the clerk raced to hide under his desk to avoid it as it was thrown at him. The fury in her eyes and voice made the other relatives present duck for cover, “How DARE you suggest we have to seek forgiveness from that vile, murderous, greedy cabrón!”

Héctor gasped at the language, instinctively clapping his hands over Miguel’s ears as she continued her tirade.

“…You know I can still hear her, right?” Miguel whispered, stifling a chuckle.

Héctor just gave him a mock glower. “Well pretend you CAN’T, mijo,” he ordered, just as softly.

“—After what he did to my husband? After what he tried to do to my grandson?! You’re telling me we have to try and find that pendejo all over a window and a re-stolen guitar?!”

“Señora, por favor, detén! ¡Cálmese!”

After a moment more of letting Imelda vent, Héctor pulled away from Coco and Miguel, going to place gentle hands on her shoulders. While the fury didn’t dissipate, at the very least she stopped yelling a moment. He gently tugged away from the table, and she took a tiny step back.

“Mi amor… it’s not his fault. He doesn’t decide what curses do.” Slowly, Gabriel crawled out from under his desk as Imelda lowered her arm. He even offered her other shoe back, hand shaking. While she rolled her eyes, she did accept it, putting them back on.

              Admittedly… Héctor was right. Her anger was misplaced. She never wanted to see Ernesto again. She never wanted HIM to have to see Ernesto again. How many nights did she jolt awake at the sound of his nightmares? How many sleepless evenings were spent reassuring him that no, she didn’t still hate him, no, it wasn’t his fault he naively trusted that his best friend wouldn’t MURDER HIM over something so petty as a few songs? The man didn’t deserve an apology for something as petty as a broken window! He should be rotting somewhere very far away from them, knowing how hated he was, and never seeing their faces again! While she resigned herself to what they had to do, one question still lingered. Victoria stepped forward, arms crossed.

“What happens if we don’t find him? Miguel’s already gone a year, and he’s fine so far.”

“Well…” Gabriel took a moment to catch his breath. “It’s not as well documented as family curses… but for the most part it’s going to be the same effect. Just… slower. Curses left unresolved like this will make the cursed stop aging until the full effects kill them.”

…Oh.

So that was why Miguel didn’t look any different.

“So I suppose you have a lot of time… unless Miguel doesn’t want to look like a child for the rest of his life, however long that is,” the clerk shrugged.

               The answer felt like a clenching vice on Héctor. The year now seemed far more ominous, and he wondered just how much time Miguel had left… It wouldn’t take long for his family to notice by this point if he continued to not grow. A person not getting much taller was fairly normal, but not looking at all different? At Miguel’s age? That would be questioned. He wanted to inspect the child to see if any bone was peeking through already, but he didn’t want to scare him. Miguel already looked sick at the idea of once again facing death. He certainly felt sick himself. Imelda noticed his distress, and while Coco and Rosita both gave Miguel hugs, she looped her arms around Héctor, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll find him.”