How to Build a Better Robot
Build a better robot so this guy could take over the world? No. Nuh-uh. He'd seen cat posters which inspired him to work harder than this daily dose of super-villain monologue exposure ever could. And all Tadashi really wanted… was to go home.
A.N. Randomly decided to write something brand new from a completely different fandom. Don't worry ABNE is still my main focus. This won't be very long. A few chapters. Updates will depend on interest and inspiration. It may just end up being a one-shot. It was fun to write though.
Disclaimer: Hiro, Baymax, and all of their friends are the property of Disney. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.
Rating: This story is rated K+
"It's not good enough!"
Tadashi cringed, waiting for the blow which usually came after another one of his "failed" attempts at building a better, stronger, faster robot. He wasn't left waiting for long. The wicked man knew just where to strike too – his back which, even two years after the fact, was still so sensitive to any sort of pressure. It had taken months just to get used to wearing a shirt again. He still slept on his stomach after having retrained his body not to roll over during the night.
He was so much better now, certainly, after months of treatments and therapy. The nurses at his previous facility had been kind and helpful despite their refusal to provide him with the one thing he wanted most. But the near daily abuse his back now sustained from his "caretaker" had led to serious setbacks in his recovery.
Not that he could do anything to stop it from happening. There was no one looking after him now. Just the caretaker, a nameless man who plied Tadashi's skill for all it was worth while still insisting that everything the young engineer turned out was rubbish.
And Tadashi took the punishment for his "failures" again and again. Evading the blow or fighting back just made it worse. He'd only face further injury and retribution in the form of starvation. The most he could do was try to subtly turn so that the strike fell upon a less sensitive area of skin.
He was a prisoner.
He'd figured that out pretty quick. It wasn't hard – not when the nurses and doctors had been so obvious about locking him into his room at the facility. He'd thought it was a hospital at first. The room had all the makings of a hospital room – bed with rails and stiff sheets, machines which beep incessantly through the night, clipboards and diagrams and a little chart with faces asking "How would you rate your pain?" But hospitals usually don't keep their patients from contacting their loved ones. Hospitals don't usually lock your room from the outside. Hospitals don't have a nameless "caretaker" overseeing a patient's recovery and demanding that the doctors fix him faster so that he can "get to work."
At the time, Tadashi'd had no idea what "work" he was meant to be doing. He knew all about it now.
He'd been moved after six months. He was pretty sure they drugged him first because he couldn't remember any of it. He went to sleep in his "hospital room" at the facility and when he woke up, he was somewhere new.
He had a pretty big room now. There was a bed in one corner and a small dining table in another. A medium sized dresser held enough clothes for exactly one week. Laundry went out on Wednesdays and came back clean and folded. His food was brought to him three times a day, so long as he was on his "best behavior", so he didn't need a kitchen or anything like that.
A decent sized bathroom was situated off to the side and he was pretty sure that was the only space not constantly monitored by security cameras – at least, he hoped there weren't any in there.
The rest of the room was lab space – and boy was it a lab. He'd had access to a lot of tech at SFIT but nothing quite like this. He had all of the necessary robotics tools and then some. And anything else he could possibly require could be ordered, purchased, and delivered in one day.
His first day there had been something like a dream. After waking up in a scientist's equivalent to Disney World, he'd nerded out and spent a few good hours tinkering and testing and, well… playing would probably be the best word for it. But the fun hadn't lasted. At some point during his geek-fest, he'd been struck by a sudden thought.
Hiro would love this.
And that was all it took to reset his brain and recall the fact that he'd been trapped in some hospital-like facility for six months, recovering from severe burns he couldn't even remember receiving, and wondering, all the while, about his little brother and his Aunt Cass and his friends. Where were they? Were they okay? Were they worrying about him?
He'd begged for a phone. He'd pleaded for some way to contact his family. On days when the pain had been unbearable, he'd cried for them.
But all of his requests were denied. It was the one thing he wanted most and yet the one thing they refused to give.
Well, technically, there were two things he wanted – his freedom and his family.
But he would have settled for just a way to contact his family, to make sure they were okay. If he could only do that much, he would gladly sacrifice any chance at freedom he might have.
Not that such a chance would ever come.
He'd thought, in that brief moment following his nerd-fest, that he was finally free – that he could actually just walk out the door without a second thought and hop the next bus, train, or plane back to San Fransokyo. He'd been up and moving in an instant, awesome lab and state-of-the-art tech forgotten. Twelve steps to the door, and then he'd grasped the handle, ready to feel the sun on his face and smell the fresh air for the first time in months.
It was locked.
Of course it was locked. How could it have been otherwise?
His "caretaker" had come with a tray of food right about the time that Tadashi's stomach started demanding sustenance. He'd seen the man before, at the facility. He didn't like him. But food was more important at the time.
And while Tadashi was eating, the man had explained his purpose, his plan, and exactly what role he intended to have Tadashi play in it.
"You will build me a better robot – better than that blasted machine those good for nothing super heroes are using – and I will use it to take over the world."
That was the summary anyway. It wasn't actually as simple as taking over the world but Tadashi didn't really care about the details. The guy was evil.
And, regardless of the actual plan, Fred would have flipped out over this.
Tadashi was the prisoner of… a super villain. He could admit it – no shame. And since there were now apparently super heroes out there fighting guys like this, he supposed it all balanced out.
Not that he had a clue who or what this "Big Hero 6" was. He, she, or they had apparently come on the scene a little while back and he, she, or they apparently had a robot. It was really strong and really fast and it could fly.
And Tadashi was supposed to make a better one – without specs or blueprints or a photograph or so much as a sketch done by a four-year-old in crayon. He had no foundation – nothing.
He was expected to work from scratch, to design and build a fighting robot which would be able to defeat Big Hero 6's robot. Nevermind that Tadashi's only robotic success was Baymax – a nurse-bot! He didn't know the first thing about making fighting robots – that was Hiro's area of expertise, not his.
Baymax was designed with a multitude of fine motor abilities to be used in intricate medical procedures. The nurse-bot may have been strong but he didn't have the gross motor skills needed to evade and strike and capture. And he wasn't fast at all. And… flying?! Really?!
He couldn't simply build another Baymax. To provide what his caretaker wanted, he had to completely rework his original engineering designs. Then there was programming and testing and more testing and… more testing.
He hadn't even started on the flying thing yet.
How could he when… "It's not good enough!" kept holding him back from moving forward?
Besides, he hardly had any motivation to actually try his best. Build a better robot so this guy could take over the world? No. Nuh-uh. He'd seen cat posters which inspired him to work harder than this daily dose of super-villain monologue exposure ever could.
The only thing that kept him working every day was the threat of imminent death – by starvation or boredom.
Tadashi wasn't scared of the caretaker. Sure he could pack a pretty good wallop on Tadashi's sensitive skin… with his cane. But really… the guy had a cane. He was like four feet tall and had to be almost ninety. It was no wonder he needed a robot to take over the world. He'd never get very far on his own.
He was the sort of super-villain who never got his own hands dirty. He had enough money or power to get other people to do the job for him. Tadashi had often wondered if he was some big-name millionaire out in the world, or if he was more of a wealthy recluse – the hermit type. Tadashi was leaning towards the latter – surely he'd know the old man's face if he were famous.
Nevertheless, Tadashi was at this guy's mercy. He was stuck, completely trapped in a lab that most nerds would die for. The only way out was a door powered by a combination keypad, hand-print, retinal-scan lock. And sure, Tadashi could just wait for the guy to open the door and then over-power him and get himself out of there… except that it was set up like a dog kennel. There was another door beyond the first, with a different combination… and then a large office space for the caretakers use with yet another triply locked door and who knew how many rooms and doors lay beyond that.
He knew all of this because he'd actually done it a few times – though he'd only made it out to the office once and only by rigging a device to stop the latching mechanism on the first door and waiting until he heard the second one open before making a break for it. He was still trying to think up a way to get past all three doors. It wasn't really worth trying again until he had a plan.
He'd been cut down to one meal a day for a week, as punishment, each time he'd made an escape attempt. When your whole life consists of eating, sleeping, tinkering, and nothing else, the loss of any one of those can be severally detrimental to your mental health. Food helped him get through each day. So he gave up trying to escape the obvious way. It wasn't going to work and a man needs to eat. He'd think his way out eventually.
In the meantime, sure, he could refuse to build the guy his stupid robot. But then he'd probably be starved again and he'd be bored out of his mind. He didn't even have a television, or a computer with internet access. His computers were all on a single network and if he needed information from an outside source, he had to ask his caretaker to bring it to him on a flash drive.
He had to work on something or he knew he'd go crazy. And his options were pretty limited. He could work on the robot… or he could work on the robot.
Of course, that didn't mean he had to work very fast. As far as his caretaker knew, this was normal Tadashi working speed. The slow pace grated his own nerves at times and it earned him more than a few beatings for not getting things done fast enough. But it was his own quiet rebellion and it help keep him sane.
So now his "little project" was pushing two years in progress and still not up to the caretaker's standards. It would help if Tadashi knew just what those standards were. Not that he was about to point that out.
He took his punishment as he always did, wincing when the cane smacked hard against the raised flesh of his scars. And then he asked the same question he asked every time this happened. "What would you like me to improve?"
Something else he'd discovered about his caretaker – the guy knew nothing about technology. Nothing. Zero, zilch, zip, nada. He was clueless when it came to computers and cell phones and yet! he still thought that he could tell Tadashi how to build a better robot.
"You need to add more of those steel –"
"Titanium." Tadashi deadpanned the correction.
"Titanium turning doohickeys –"
"Rotary joints."
"Right, that's what I said. More of those right here so that it'll turn faster."
Complete nonsense of course, but that was his solution to everything. Too slow? Add more. Too weak? Add more.
Add more, add more, add more!
Nevermind actual science here. Nevermind physics. Nevermind anything that actually makes sense.
And Tadashi had learned early on not to bother explaining any of it to him. He didn't get it. He couldn't get it. And, really? Tadashi didn't mind so much that the old man was completely clueless when it came to technology. It meant that he could take his time and purposefully sabotage his own work and his caretaker was none the wiser.
So while the old man babbled on about gizmos and thingamabobs, Tadashi began a mental monologue of his own.
This is my life… it wasn't always so pathetic. Once upon a time I had big plans. I was going to change the world, revolutionize medicine, and really make a difference in people's lives. I was on my way there too. Baymax, and SFIT, and my friends, and Aunt Cass, and Hiro… seriously I had a lot going for me. And look at me now… prisoner and slave to this 'incredible' specimen of the human species. No, seriously, he may be the last of his kind. I should cherish this once in a lifetime opportunity to have my brain cells destroyed by this man's brutal affront against science… oh, how the mighty have fallen.
"…and more activators!"
"actuators?"
"Yes, those!"
"… Yeah, I'll get right on that."
Just nod and agree. He was finishing up now and then he'd be gone, leaving Tadashi, once more, to his solitude.
The old man's rant was interrupted, suddenly, by the most obnoxious ringtone Tadashi had ever heard. He winced at the overly loud, high pitched trill while the caretaker fumbled around in his pocket, producing a cell phone, moments later. He tapped on the touch screen erratically for several seconds, mumbling furiously under his breath about impossible to use gadgets, before finally figuring out how to answer.
"Yes?! What is it?" the man yelled into the device. "He did what?! No… no. Don't do anything! I will be right there."
Then he pulled the phone from his ear and started jabbing it once again, clearly trying and failing to end the call. Tadashi was watching the scene so intently, because it was really kind of funny, that he knew he probably could have caught the poor cell phone when it toppled from the old man's grasp. But he didn't really see the point in doing anything to help the man who was keeping him prisoner.
The phone plunged towards the terrazzo floor at a relative speed of 9.8 meters per second. Despite having let it happen, Tadashi couldn't help the cringe which overcame him at watching that unfortunate device bounce, twice, before coming to rest. Naturally, the caretaker hadn't bothered to provide his phone with a case or so much as a screen protector. As such, parts were scattered everywhere. The back popped off. The battery flew about two feet and then slid to a stop underneath Tadashi's dresser. The screen shattered. The external casing cracked and several small pieces broke off completely. Case in point? Terrazzo and cell phones should never meet.
"Great! Just great! Now I need to get a new phone on top of everything else." The old man stooped, leaning heavily on his cane, to pick up the phone, nearly falling over himself in the process. "Those incompetent, good-for-nothing… I'll be taking this out of their pay. You!" He rounded on Tadashi with an angry glare. "Get back to work. I expect to see some results by tomorrow."
"Right…" Tadashi waited until the man's back was turned before rolling his eyes and walking over to his dining table. No sense trying to work on an empty stomach. Behind him, he heard the familiar beeping of the keypad lock, the chime of the hand print scanner, and the buzz of the retinal scanner. The door slid open with a hiss and shut, a moment later, with a click.
It was the unfamiliar thunk of something landing in his garbage can which prompted Tadashi to turn and look around his now empty lab space.
"What did he…?"Tadashi's eyes widened suddenly. "He couldn't have! Did he really?" He spoke his thoughts out loud whenever he was alone, the silence too much for him to handle.
Moments later, he was reaching into the trashcan and pulling out his prize with an elated expression. "He did! He really did! Hah! Yes, yes, yes!"
Sure, the cell phone was busted. But the old man was crazy if he didn't realize that someone like Tadashi could probably get the thing functioning again. And if he could make it work, he could call someone. He could get help. And then… he could go home.
This was his chance!
He didn't have a lot of time though. At any moment, the caretaker could realize his mistake and come back for the device. Or whoever was watching the security cameras could figure out what he was up to. He had to be careful not to make it obvious – play it cool, but work quickly.
Meal abandoned, he sauntered back to his work station and grabbed several tools. A quick adjustment of a few robotic projects hid his current work from immediate view of the cameras. He didn't think they were monitored 24/7 but it was better to be safe than sorry. He wouldn't get another shot at this.
With the back casing off, it was easy enough to see which parts were broken and which had simply come loose. It took him about twenty minutes of careful tweaking, finding compatible bits and chips from his box of robotic spares, and a quick dive under his dresser for the missing battery.
The battery itself worried him some. It was cracked but he hoped it would hold out long enough to get a message out to someone. He fit it into the back of the phone and turned the device over, holding his breath while he waited for it to power on.
The screen was badly cracked, splintering out from the corner which had first struck the floor. Nevertheless, it flickered on and he could still see most of what was on the screen.
The first thing which caught his eye, though, was the battery bar, blinking furiously red in the top right-hand corner. He bit back a curse. There wasn't much time but he could probably get a text message out before it died.
Ignoring the cracks and splinters, he tapped the text message icon once, then again. Nothing happened. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the screen was too badly damaged in that area to register the vibration. He tested parts of the screen. Most of the rest seemed to be working but if he couldn't activate the texting box, he'd never get a message out. There wasn't time to figure out a roundabout way to access it.
He gave up that plan and tapped the call icon. It worked, bringing up a number pad on the display, except… the 9 button just so happened to be in the exact same spot that the message icon had previously held on the screen.
"So much for 9-1-1." He muttered in frustration. He needed to call someone. He wasn't going to get another chance and there wasn't much time. He hoped the battery would hold out long enough for a two minute call but there was no guarantee that it would.
But who to call?
He didn't have to think on it for long. There was one voice he wanted to hear more than any other.
He dialed the long memorized number automatically and then held his breath, waiting.
It rang once.
Then again.
A third time.
Tadashi felt his hope falter as the ring-back tone sounded yet again. It would switch over to voicemail any moment now. Not ideal but…
"Hello - woah!" A strangled shout came through the line, followed by a loud crash like someone had just fallen into or on top of… something. "Oof! Ow… h-hello?"
Tadashi's voice caught in his throat, frozen, unable to make a sound. That… that was Hiro's voice, his little brother. It had been so long… everything he'd planned on saying was now swept from his mind. Overcome with emotion, he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and smiled even as he tried to swallow down the frog in his throat.
"Hiro, you have fallen." Another familiar voice sounded faintly on the other end, causing Tadashi to blink in surprise. He hadn't expected that one.
"Yeah, no kidding."
"On a scale of one to ten, how would you –"
"Not now, Baymax. I'm fine."
A choked laugh sprung from Tadashi's throat as he pictured the scene – Hiro and Baymax. He'd never imagined that his little brother would be using the nurse bot now, two years later.
"Hello? Hiro Hamada speaking. Who's this?" Hiro said into the phone, spurring Tadashi's mind back to the present. He still didn't know what to say, but he had to say something.
"Hiro… hey. Listen, I don't have a lot of time." Might as well cut to the chase. Who knew when the battery would die and cut him off? He spoke quickly. "I'm not really sure where I am but I've been locked up for awhile now. Don't know how I'm ever gonna get out of here but I'm not going to stop trying. I just wanted to let you know that I'm safe and that you don't have to worry about me and I hope you and Aunt Cass are doing alright and –"
"Wait! Wait, stop!"
Tadashi did, mainly because the tone in Hiro's voice startled him. He sounded angry or maybe scared… or both. That's when Tadashi realized how this might seem… for Hiro to get a call from him after two years missing.
There was a deep breath on the other line and the next words came out in a heated whisper. "Who. Is. This?"
Tadashi thought Hiro probably already knew the answer. The boy would surely have recognized his voice. But he could also understand needing to know for sure. He smiled sadly and hoped his sincerity and affection for the kid could be heard through the phone. "Hiro… Bro, it's me. Tadashi."
He waited for a response, giving Hiro a chance to adjust to the news, but more than ready to hear the excited greeting which was sure to follow. Hiro would probably be worried about him, but happy too – oh, so happy to hear from him again.
"Is this some kind of joke!?"
Tadashi winced. The words held so much venom that it didn't even sound like Hiro anymore. The boy was mad – more than mad; he was furious. Why? Why would he be angry? Did he not… believe it was him?
"What? No!"
"Do you think I'm stupid?! Who do you think you are?! Tadashi's been dead for two years! You think this is funny!?"
"Hiro! No!" Tadashi's mind was reeling. Dead? They thought he was dead? "Listen to me!"
"Are you crazy?! You think it's okay to just call someone up and pretend to be their brother? Well it's not! And don't you think for a moment that –"
"Knock it off, Knucklehead! It's me!" Tadashi shouted into the phone. It worked. Hiro stopped, though his breathing still came heavily through the phone line. Tadashi gulped for air as well, wracking his brain for something, anything he could say to prove who he was.
His heart hurt, but it was nothing compared to what he was sure his kid brother must be feeling right now. If Hiro thought Tadashi was dead, had come to terms with it and moved on, hearing from him now would only bring back all of that pain. Tadashi had never wanted to hurt his little brother.
"Hiro, your heart rate and breathing are elevated. You appear to be suffering from anxiety and stress."
"Not now, Baymax." Hiro brushed off the robot's concern.
Tadashi couldn't help the small smile which lit his face at overhearing the exchange. "Baymax, huh? Can't believe you're actually using him. Hiro… Little Brother, I don't know what to tell you. I don't know what to say to make you believe that it's me. I just… I just want to know that you're okay, that you and Aunt Cass are safe. Please… please tell me you're alright."
"… We're fine." The answer was hesitant and there was no trust offered in the tone – cold and clipped, without any indication as to whether or not the boy believed him.
"Good. That's… that's great… I've missed you so much, Hiro. It's so lonely here. I just wanted to hear your voice again. That's all. I'm sorry for hurting you."
That was it. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Hiro didn't believe him. Any moment now, the kid would hang up or the battery would finally die on him. It had already lasted longer than he'd expected. He should just hang up now, except… except he'd never get another chance at this. He didn't want to lose a single moment, even if it just meant listening to Hiro's breathing on the other end. That was enough. Just knowing his brother was alive and well… was enough.
"…Tadash –?"
Tadashi grasped the phone tightly, hopefully, as the hesitant, half-believing inquiry began, only to cut off abruptly. When the boy said nothing more, Tadashi prompted him to continue.
"What is it, Hiro?"
Silence.
"Hiro?"
Not even breathing anymore.
Tadashi slowly pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at the dark, broken screen.
That was it.
His eyes stung and his chest constricted tightly. He couldn't breathe for a moment. Then, when he did, it came out in a gasp and a strangled sob.
He'd gotten used to homesickness and heartsickness over the years. He'd gotten used to being lonely. Or he thought he had anyway. He hadn't realized that it could hurt this bad again.
Setting the broken cell phone aside, he laid his head down on the desk and let himself cry – for his family, for his friends, for his brother, but mostly… for himself.