(Note: I do not own Big Hero 6, 'Blue Lips' by Regina Spektor, or anything but my own writing. Trigger Warning: Depression, Cutting, Suicide attempt)
Blue Lips
Maybe if it all stopped, he could still be Tadashi's little brother. Not his replacement.
He stumbled into faith and thought- 'God, this is all there is?'
He didn't know when he felt the need to let go. It started off slow, small little urges that came and went.
That building looks pretty tall. I wonder if…
I should be careful with my razor-I could end up cutting myself…
Wow-this intersection is seriously busy. I wonder what would happen if I didn't look both ways.
They should have disturbed him. Especially considering, what with everything he had been through-everything they had all been through-he had been getting better. Baymax… his friends… they had all helped him so much. They were counting on him. He was better now-he was happier now, surely, now that he'd come to terms with it?
But… There's nothing else to do. I've come to terms with it, certainly. Tadashi is still here so long as I remember him. My friends and Aunt Cass care about me. I'm going to SFIT now. Callaghan is in prison, doing time for everything.
I should be happy now. It should all be fine now… But… Why do I still feel so empty? Why is everything still so gray?
Is this my life now? Am I just going to feel like this forever? Is that it?
The pictures in his mind arose and began to breathe
Maybe it was because he still didn't quite get it. Maybe it was because he was scared, and needed an outlet. Botfighting wasn't an option. He was done. He had promised. Flying was a temporary relief, but after so many flights, it begins to lose its novelty. It was still fun. But it didn't bring that rush of terror and adrenaline it once did.
Maybe it was out of selfishness-perhaps he just wanted to stop being strong-for his friends, for Aunt Cass, for San Fransokyo, for Tadashi. Maybe it was a way out that wasn't a way out.
He remembered closing his eyes as a razor blade parted his skin, remembered the images that danced behind his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks. He remembered wrapping his arm in gauze, and spending the morning in the cemetery, too numb to even apologize.
And all the gods and all the worlds began colliding on a backdrop of blue.
It was almost as if the world were collapsing around him-well. Not the world, so to speak. His world, or perhaps it had fallen down long ago. At this point, he couldn't even tell whether it had been a long time coming, or had it come to an end the night of the fire.
The streets weren't so empty as he had once thought-spending his nights there until he inevitably got arrested aroused his suspicions to every shifting shadow, every dark alleyway. And more often than not, he was right. Once or twice, he saw a face not unlike his own among the invisible crowds. Some days, he'd catch sight of a small child, clutching their own shoddily made fighting bot, eager to get into the ring.
A few months ago, the sight might have tugged at his heart, or caused a pang of grief. Or nostalgia. But now, the only thing he felt was a slight curiosity.
Has your world fallen down, too? What are you hoping to find there?
Blue lips-Blue veins.
Or maybe it's too cold inside to stay. How can you be in a warm house at a time like this-doesn't it make your insides freeze? Isn't it suffocating?
I think I understand.
He took a step, and then felt tired- He said "I'll rest a little while."
He had come so, so far. But it was just one step-grief and depression were not synonymous, and just accepting what had happened didn't make things better. Nothing did.
That one step might have been all it took to feel better briefly, but…
"Hiro, you have been in bed for the past 16 hours."
"Not right now, Baymax."
"My healthcare files indicate that this is excessive, even for a fifteen year old blossoming into manhood."
"...I'm just lazy, Baymax. I'm fine. I'll be up in a little bit."
If a robot could frown, he certainly would have. "Hiro, your neurotransmitters are-"
"I'm just sleepy."
"Aunt Cass needs you."
Hiro frowned slightly, then pushed his face a bit farther into the pillow. "Mrfrrp."
"I am not equipped to understand the English language when modulated by a pillow. I would recommend taking the pillow off of your face."
"Five more minutes," he murmured, lifting his head briefly and then lying back down again.
It's hard to notice how numb you are when you're asleep.
But when he tried to walk again, he wasn't a child.
And maybe it was just that much easier to hide underneath the covers, away from the gray skies and the shaking hands, although the razor blade was still hiding in his bathroom, ready to pounce the second the urge hit him.
But even the blankets betrayed him soon enough, growing hot and uncomfortable and sweaty, until he absolutely had to get out of bed and face everything. And he would slide out of bed, wobbly on his feet, stumbling to the bathroom to look at a face that wasn't his, that was certainly too old and too empty to be his face.
He would frown at himself, trying not to look anywhere but those empty, lifeless eyes, because if he kept staring at them, maybe he wouldn't notice how much he'd grown since the fire.
And maybe he'd still be Tadashi's little brother.
And all the people hurried past, real fast, and no one ever smiled-
The comments were lighthearted, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt with each observation of how tall he was getting, and how he looked so much more like a college student, and, worst of all:
"You're starting to look so much like your brother."
And he hated it, he hated catching glimpses of himself in the mirror and forcing himself to agree.
He hated how GoGo started mistakenly calling him 'Hamada' instead of 'Hiro', and it wasn't incorrect, but that was what she had called Tadashi.
How Wasabi kept accidentally-or perhaps not-making coffee for the entire lab, and bringing him his with two creams and a sugar, when he took his coffee black, and neither of them said it, but they both knew that Tadashi took his coffee with two creams and a sugar.
And when Fred had brought them over for movie night, and asked Hiro whether or not Captain America: Winter Soldier was okay to watch again, although they both knew that he had never seen it.
He hated how Honey Lemon would immediately lose her smile after gushing about her photography endeavors and accidentally ending by using his brother's name, and how he would have to reassure her that it was okay. He hated having to lie to her about it. He hated that she was in pain just as much as he was, because he knew how much she'd loved him, and how his presence, his appearance must be a slap in the face to her.
And he hated how some days, when they would go out for pizza or whatever, they would sometimes look over at him, and register too late the gap in his teeth, or how his hair was too long, and they wouldn't mention it, but for just a moment, the fire had never happened, and their friend was here with them. And they would realize it after several minutes where maybe they had mentioned his name, or maybe not, but they wouldn't even be able to look at him for a long time, their faces set in stone.
They couldn't acknowledge him, because they second they did, the charade would end, and he would become just Hiro again.
And he hated how quickly they would leave afterwards, forcing a smile as they waved goodbye, hurrying into their house, giving him the barest glance.
He hated how Tadashi couldn't be there to make fun of it. How he couldn't remind them that they were mistaking Hiro for himself.
He hated how he didn't have the gall to stop them.
He hated being Tadashi's replacement.
Blue lips, blue veins-Blue, the colour of our planet from far, far away.
Staying strong was just… too hard. It took too much energy out of him, and at this point, they didn't want him. He wasn't their friend-how could he be?
More than that, how could he hurt his family by forcing himself to function?
How could he let himself walk downstairs to the sight of Aunt Cass forcing herself to say 'Have a great day at school, Hiro," because it was so natural for her to use a different name for that face? How could he live in the same house with her, torturing her every time she looked at him?
Wouldn't it have just been that much easier if he had died in that fire instead?
Wouldn't it just be that much easier if he got up the courage to stop that blue life-pulse beneath his skin?
He stumbled into faith, and thought- "God, this is all there is?"
And it was years later now, the three year anniversary of Tadashi's death. He was almost 18-almost the same age his brother was.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was allowed to grow older while his brother didn't. He wouldn't be the younger brother for much longer now, unless he stopped it.
Am I willing to change all this?
The pictures in his mind arose and began to breathe
He forced himself to go to school that day, the thin piece of metal heavy in his pocket. He didn't say goodbye to Aunt Cass-she was in her room, probably believing him still asleep-but he left a note on the pillow.
With every step pulling his heart to his shoes, and every breath escalating a hurricane in his head, he got to the doors of (Tadashi's) his lab and stopped.
He paused, then turned around and walked to the exposition hall.
It was bright, and new, with steel framing and blue glass windows. If you looked up, you would find a bronze plate with his brother's name on it. It wasn't the building he had died in-the expo hall had died with him. But it was built on the foundation.
Every so often, he would walk inside and stand in the center of the building. He would look around, and wonder how far Tadashi had gotten before the explosion-by his calculations, it would have been about 20 feet from where he was standing now. He took a deep breath, headed inside, and glanced around.
The hall was empty, the lights off and the chairs piled up on either side.
(Smoke was pouring from the windows, and an officer was shouting in his face, trying to shake him out of his stupor, but he couldn't respond, wouldn't respond with anything but a question: "Where's my brother?")
He took a few more steps forward, and found himself standing in the exact spot he had calculated, the exact spot where his brother should have died. What had his last moments been like? God knew. But...
("Professor Callaghan!" He was running past the glass doors, flames licking the walls on every side. He caught a glimpse of black on the floor, and froze in surprise.
Hiro's microbots…?
He heard a soft beeping noise, and the crack of an explosion, but he never felt it come. He turned around in horror, stepping back right into the path of a falling beam, and-)
On any other day, the tears would have been flowing down Hiro's cheeks by now. He knelt down, gently letting his fingertips graze smooth stone, and closed his eyes.
And no one saw and no one heard, they just followed lead
"Hey, little buddy."
His eyes snapped open, and he turned around. Four figures, slightly darkened by the light behind them-their eyes soft and sad. The lights turned on, Wasabi stepping away from the switch and coming to sit down next to him.
"Are you alright?"
His eyes briefly flickered to his pocket, his palms cold, and took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to be here for a little bit."
Wasabi nodded in understanding, his face almost impassive. "I get that feeling. It's kind of odd, you know… Thinking that he would have been so proud to see us here."
"Yeah…" The numbness disappeared for a moment, a moment of complete sadness and loss. He blinked away tears, then leaned back to look at them. He couldn't help but feel his heart sink lower as Honey Lemon looked away, then got to his feet. "I'll be fine. I… I just need to spend some time at the cemetery."
Part of him ached for them to see past the ruse, but the fear of being discovered almost completely overrode it.
"It's alright, Hiro. We understand." He got up, gesturing to the rest of the gang to leave. Honey Lemon left first, hardly sparing him a glance, and he winced at the action.
I guess I could never be her hero. I never wanted to be. But maybe she can find someone else, after...
The pictures in his mind awoke and began to breed
The sky was stereotypically gray, but not quite raining. The air was cold, stinging at Hiro's face and neck. Maybe it already knew what he was doing, and wept accordingly.
Or perhaps it was just raining. But it was a nice thought-it was incredibly comforting, the thought that the sky, at least, grieved for him.
"...I guess now is an incredibly bad time to do this."
The grass was soaking wet, but he knelt down on it anyways, breathing in the cold mist.
"I mean, everyone is already upset. I can't say it's my fault, after all, you're the one who ran into the expo hall."
Hiro sat back, his arms around his knees, watching the headstone. It didn't reply-it never had. And it never would.
"Yeah, you heard me. I'm blaming you. You can't really be mad at me, though-it's not as if I don't have a reason. I'm pissed off. You decided that it would be worth the risk to run into a burning building-for someone completely unworthy of your efforts. And in doing so, you not only caused your own death…"
He closed his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the razor blade.
"But you're causing mine. Funny how actions have consequences, don't they? You decided that Callaghan was more important to you than I was, and now I'm paying for it." He let out a breath that he didn't realize that he had been holding, and reached over to pick up the picture frame in front of the headstone.
The face that looked back at him seemed to be mocking him. The dark, russet brown eyes taunted him, making fun of how he would never be able to see them again-how he couldn't have them for himself, to heal those around him-how he was so selfish to continue his existence.
"You honestly have no idea what you've caused. I'm tired of being your replacement. I'm tired of looking in the mirror. I'm tired of seeing how much pain I'm causing everyone."
(Dark brown eyes were level with his own, soothing him as large hands held his arm steady. He watched them bind gauze around a thick cut, oozing with blood, and gently pat his hand.
"Hey, everything's going to be okay, got it?"
His brother was kind, and selfless, and always able to give of himself.
But he wasn't his brother, and he could only take so much before he broke. He could only give so much before he emptied himself.)
"I'm not you. And… And I'm sorry for that."
They started off beneath the knowledge tree and chopped it down to make white picket fences
("We're going to be just fine. We just need to keep moving forward.")
"I don't think this is what you wanted."
("Aunt Cass is going to take us in, and we're going to live with her now. We're going to live at the Lucky Cat, and it's going to be our home-")
"But frankly, I don't think I care what you would have wanted. Not any more. I'm tired of you running my life from beyond the grave."
("But I want to go back to our home, Dashi!")
"I've been breaking for a long, long time, Tadashi. I've been trying not to wear the cracks on my sleeve, but… I think that this has been a long, long time coming." Hiro reached up to run a hand through his hair, letting the tears fall for once.
("I want to go back to our home too, buddy… But I don't think we can. Aunt Cass will help make it all better. We're going to be okay. It's all okay.")
"I've finally broken, Dashi. I can't go back now. I'm tired of pretending it's okay."
They marched along the railroad tracks, they smiled real wide for the camera lenses
He set the blade against the skin of his arm, bracing himself to spill what was inside the thin, blue vessels onto the dirt.
"And so this is it. My last confession or whatever. But…"
("And even if Aunt Cass can't fix everything, just remember that I'll always be here, okay, Hiro?")
"If I'm going to die, I want you to be there."
("Just promise me that you'll stay my headstrong little brother.")
"This was about the closest I could get. And it might be like… defiling your grave or something… But I don't think I'm going to be around long enough to be punished for it."
("I promise.")
"So… I guess I'm sorry."
They made it past the enemy lines, just to become enslaved in the assembly lines.
("You're going to help so many people.")
"I'm sorry I couldn't stay strong for you. I'm sorry for being so selfish. And, I guess…"
Blue lips, blue veins.
(His teeth were chattering in the cold, but he didn't care. The charred black bone fragments in a small box-the only remains that they could find, proving without a doubt that his brother was dead, gone-had long since been put into the ground, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. He looked down at his hands, still bound in white bandages. He had been too close, almost to the doors, and they were covered in burns, covered in scratches from the concrete.
His body was aching all over from that fall down the stairs, but even with the burns, even with the bruises and cuts, nothing hurt more than the hole that had been carved out of his heart.)
"I'm sorry…"
Blue, the color of our planet from far, far away.
"I'm sorry I…"
He felt himself choking up and looked up to the clouds, his hands shaking even more than ever.
("Breathe, Hiro." Tadashi's hands were on his shoulders, then gently rubbing his back as his brother sobbed into his chest.
"It hurts, Dashi. I want mom and dad."
"Hey. I know it hurts, but you know what?")
The razor blade gently nicked at his skin, reminding him of it's presence, and he looked down at it, almost incapable of comprehending its existence.
Blue, the most human color
He gently pulled the blade from his skin, examining the small cut, and the thin blue lines underneath his skin.
("It's all right to hurt. It's all right to cry-but we can't let it consume us.")
Blue, the most human color
("Because you know what? Even though we're human…")
The sunlight glinted off of his metal, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
("Even though we hurt…")
He looked back up at the picture in front of him, and gently set the blade down in front of it.
Blue
("We can't just give up, now can we? It's going to get better, even if we can't see it…")
"I-I'm sorry, Tadashi…"
The most human color
("And I know we can get better, too.")
"I can't…I can't do this any more..."
("I'm not giving up on us, Hiro.")
"I can't do it."
Blue lips
His arms wrapped around his middle, and he gently leaned forward, letting his tears drip onto the ground where his blood should have been.
("I'm not giving up on you.")
Another pair of arms gently wrapped around him, and he almost hit his head against theirs, but then felt them pull him close into a hug.
"Hiro… we're so, so sorry…"
He didn't catch much, other than a long lock of blonde hair, then slowly relaxed into Honey Lemon's embrace. A few seconds later, another set of arms wrapped around the two of them, then another, and one more, ducking underneath Fred and Wasabi to get herself closer to him.
Blue veins
Maybe later they would explain that Aunt Cass had found the letter, and was looking all over San Fransokyo for him-and maybe later she would jump out of her car, squeeze the life out of her nephew, and make absolutely sure he knew how much everyone cared about him.
Maybe later they would explain how they had reached the cemetery only a few minutes after he had, and were too afraid to confront him for fear that he'd hurt himself-that he'd panic, and end it, and they wouldn't be able to save him this time.
But for now...
Well, now they would have to do their best to make things right. Because as great as Tadashi was, he didn't live on in his brother-and maybe they had been ignoring that for far too long.
One more set of arms wrapped around the group, then a familiar robotic voice broke the silence.
"It will be all right. There, there."
Honey Lemon looked up at the robot, then down again at the teenager slowly starting to calm down, hiccups starting to wrack his frame. Her gaze flickered to the grave behind his razor blade, and she gave it's occupant's little brother a final squeeze before pulling away.
"Look, guys… I'm s-orry for-"
She leaned over again, tucking a lock of wet hair behind Hiro's ear, and smiled through her tears. "There's nothing to be sorry for. We're here for you."
She looked up at her friends, smiling for a moment at Wasabi's barely restrained sobs, then gave him one last hug.
"We're not giving up on you."
Blue, the color of our planet from far, far away.
(Your world's been blue for far too long.)