All I hear is the sound of the blood thundering in my ears and the shrill screaming of my eardrums. The gritty, cold concrete is biting into my cheek, yet I feel a heated, pulsating sensation across my back. I open my eyes, completely unaware of my surroundings and any reason for me to be lying prone on the ground. There I see a single cinder, a smoldering spark lying merely inches from my face. More appear as my vision clears, yet my brain, so full of ideas and brilliance most of the time, is strangely and yet comfortingly empty. I squint, trying to force the fog encasing my mind into dissipating.
Always look out for yourself, isn't that what they told you every time?
Never assist someone if it puts you in harm's way. Look out for you first. You. First.
Those boring, pointless high school health lessons were the first thoughts to return to me, but why? I cringe as the heat upon my back intensifies and pushing myself upward, I stare into the great mass of orange flames clawing its way upwards to engulf a building. Not just any building, I tell my unhelpful brain, trying to force my mind towards recognition. It's the university.
Tadashi.
At this point I struggle to my feet, where I try to call out despite the fact that my ears are still ringing incessantly and I hear nothing but the dull thudding of my own heartbeat. My semiconscious mind is now consumed with one thing, one entity. My big brother. The only reason I ever entered those doors, now charred black with battle scars, to begin with. It was then that the fog evaporated and the moments before began to replay at a dizzying speed upon my mind's eye. I stumble backwards, tears coming to my eyes for a reason I don't yet comprehend. Then I saw. Through my watering eyes I see his cap, lying so innocently on the marble stairs leading to the flaming inferno ahead, the University of Technology insignia emblazoned on its front glowing as brightly as the flames surrounding it. It felt as if it burned upon my very eyes, like a stare from a living beast. At this moment, the realization hits me in its fullest and must devastating force, as if the blast from within the building had come again, more jarring than ever before.
I had been so close. I had touched his arm. I had the power to stop him.
I did not.
~oOo~
Hiro Hamada lay quietly in his bed; his bedroom window opened enough to let the cool, San Fransokyo breeze drift through his blinds and swirl about the room. He had actually gone to sleep at a decent time, much to his aunt's fervent delight.
Despite his crippling depression, he had seemingly made a remarkable comeback since Tadashi's friends had taken him under their wings. "Aunt Cass", as her boys called her, couldn't be happier. Yet seeing their young, happy faces only served to force a lump into her throat, her eldest "son's" smiling face filling her mind's eye. She would only bite her lip and force a small, for their sake, especially Hiro's. He had enough on his mind than to add her problems to the pile. So that night she happily sent him to bed, pleased to see him smiling again.
He was not smiling now. The cool summer breeze did nothing to ease his anguish, only to chill the tears that were spilling down his clammy cheeks. The blankets and sheets about his bed were thrown in every direction, seemingly trying to escape the thrashing figure they had swathed. The boy whimpered softly to himself, alerting no one to his suffering as the memories flashed before him, vivid, convulsing, and hot. They replayed over and over, that one moment, like an endless track. The explosion, the sulfuric smell that soured in his nose, the burning realization that all who mattered had been obliterated into elemental space.
He screamed.
Awakened by his own terror, he lurched upwards in his bed, back arched and stiff with fear. The tears were rolling uncontrollably now, but he did not care. He let his suppressed emotions pour forth like a broken levy, caring not if damage to his torn heart would ever be mended. Pulling the quilt from the end of his bed, he buried his face within, letting the softness muffle his cries. It wouldn't do for Aunt Cass to hear. It was not like she could bring him back anyway…
It was then that he felt a warm, plushy mass atop his untamed locks and looking towards its possessor through tear-swimming eyes saw the white, rather ghostly outline of his personal health care companion in the darkness.
"Baymax," Hiro exclaimed, in a surprised yet distant way. "When did you activate?"
He eyed his robot's charging station adjacent to his bed, which only moments before had been occupied by the "sleeping" being.
"I heard a sound of distress. What seems to be the trouble?"
Hiro could not help but smile pitifully at the familiar saying, snuffling into his balled fist as he did so.
"Nothing's wrong, buddy. I just had a dream."
"Dreams are a basic way to determine if one is currently experiencing REM sleep, essential in a good night's rest."
Any other time, Hiro would have quickly thought of a witty comeback, but so rattled was he by the images that had plagued his sleep that Baymax's spiel simply returned him to his blubbering state. The robot watched the boy inquisitively, seeing the tears wetting his cheeks. Blinking several times as his processer assessed the situation, he added, "Dreams usually consist of fantastical and cheerful images. They do not make you cry. Crying is a natural response to pain."
"I know, Baymax," Hiro replied, swallowing thickly.
"Was your dream emotionally uncomfortable?" the plushy being asked, tilting his round head to one side.
"When are they not…"
Silence filled the air as Hiro sniffled suddenly, the breeze still gently blowing through his window while the muffled sounds of cars ambling their way along the road below adding an oddly comforting sound to the background. Baymax continued to stare at the crumpled figure, who was watching with glazed eyes as the curtains above his brother's bed float gently in the seeping draft, his mind numb with the excess emotions beating against it. It was then that Baymax suddenly spoke.
"My sensors detect elevated neurotransmitter levels caused by grief and anxiety."
"It's me, Baymax; I just had a nightmare."
"They are radiating from the second level."
Hiro looked up from where he had been picking at his sheet, seeing that Baymax had turned to point down the flight of stairs leading from his bedroom to the living room and kitchen below. He scowled in confusion as the robot did not move or speak any further, simply pointing silently toward the door like a ghoulish statue, the moonlight reflecting off his soft exterior.
"Baymax," he asked, poking in puzzlement at the forgiving vinyl. It was as if he had turned to stone.
A sudden curiosity filled the boy, burdened with the desperate need for the comfort he could not seem to find. So he pushed the covers away from his feet, catching the sleeve of his pajama shirt in his fist to wipe away the remaining tears that stained his face. Sliding off the mattress to land with a thud dulled by his socked feet, he hastened toward the direction of Baymax's outstretched arm.
As he descended the stairs in the darkness, hand brushing the railing, he noticed a warm glow reflecting on the wood floor. Glancing around the corner of the hallway, he saw his aunt's door ajar where light, though dim, was filtering through. Hiro padded quietly across the floor to avoid detection, only to slide to a stop once he reached the doorframe and peaked around it. A lump caught itself in his throat at what he saw.
His aunt was sitting in bed, pillows stuffed behind her back as the light adorning the nightstand cast dark shadows on her pinched face. She was clutching something against her chest; a picture frame, he guessed. As he squinted and leaned closer in order to better see her in the poor light, his socked feet slipped on the floor causing the door to open with an intruding squeak. The older woman gasped at the sudden noise, her head jerking upwards to see her youngest, and now only, nephew standing frozen in the doorway with a pained look on his face. Hiro suddenly felt guilty for intruding this private moment, seeing that her sparkling green eyes were now swollen and red from obvious distress.
"Hiro," she asked in a hoarse whisper, letting the frame she was so tightly holding fall into her lap.
It was then that the boy realized it was a picture of his brother, removed from its usual place aside his on her nightstand. He opened his mouth to apologize, to explain why he was watching her, why he was even up at all, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He merely fumbled with his hands, awkwardly averting his gaze to his feet. They had never found the need to have deep conversations before now. She was their parent in any other sense of the word, but he had seen her more as their one person cheering squad, always there with encouragement and help when they needed it. But if he had a serious problem, a question that he couldn't ask just anyone, Tadashi was always there to listen. And help.
But now, he was gone, and all he had was her now. Seeing her flushed, stricken face hit him hard. He had never seen her upset, never seen her cheerful, clownish façade fall like a curtain, like it had at this very moment. To see her vulnerable, to see her feeling the same emotions and struggles that he himself was feeling… It made him realize how much they had in common.
Cass watched her boy stand there, the mental torment obvious in his face and the quick darting of his eyes. She could tell immediately that something was amiss, simply by looking at the red eyes and the cheeks marked with dried tears. So she had been wrong. Everything was not rosy in the garden of life as she had thought only hours before. But who was she kidding? She was struggling to keep a straight face every time memories of him flashed before her. It was simple things: a piece of clothing, a television show he watched as a child, even Baymax, who was innocent of the strain he placed on his patients every time he was around them. When they saw Baymax, they saw Tadashi.
"What's wrong, honey," she asked after a period of thoughtful silence, hoping the boy would finally open up to her.
Hiro felt fresh emotion well into his heart, seeing his brother's picture, his aunt's show of grief, his nightmares; everything built together and pierced his heart once more. He tried to think of how to explain away his reasons for coming, for standing in her bedroom when he really should be in bed asleep, but all were in vain. His need for comfort overtook him and he cried. He threw himself into her lap and wept like a three year old child, not like a young boy budding into manhood. But he did not care.
Grunting with the impact of a fourteen year old flinging himself onto her mattress, Aunt Cass felt something completely foreign burn within her as she looked down to see the boy sobbing into her night shirt. She was the first to admit that she knew nothing about motherhood, much less children in general. She had done her best with her two nephews and they had turned out alright. Yet there was always a barrier, a wall that kept them for having the conversations and relationships that parents and their children share; something that, if she was honest with herself, she always wanted. Now was her chance to truly help him, her little one, through this valley and perhaps in the process heal a tear in her own soul. So she wrapped her arms around him and began to speak through her own tears.
~oOo~
Midnight came and went. The stars twinkling idly in the sky began to lose their luster, knowing that they may rest when the sun begins to bathe the horizon in golden rays of light. The citizens of San Fransokyo will soon begin the start of their days, of their hopes and dreams of the future, or memories of the past. Yet the days of the two occupants atop the Lucky Cat Café had started well before the approaching dawn. At the height of the night, tears stained their faces, their hearts heavy as lead. Yet now, they felt feather light, free from the debilitating grief that had choked them before. For these two individuals had found peace, in none other than each other. The comfort they had searched so diligently for had been in front of them all along. It took only a simple moment for them to realize it, and a special being to put it into motion.
~oOo~
Hiro nearly choked on the handful of gummy bears he was trying to shove into his mouth. The bag that his aunt had saved only for special occasions was nearly empty now, with two sugar-infused persons giggling helplessly at the screen in front of them as a result. Two glasses of milk, now emptied, and a plate encased with Oreo cookie crumbs sat on the nightstand where a certain picture had once been propped. The screen held images of two small boys howling in laughter, one barely a toddler, the other a joyful youth, sitting atop a powder soft mound of flour with hair sticking in either direction. Egg shells stuck to the younger's mop of black hair while the older was trying to mold said hair into a spiky, egg-gelled Mohawk. The operator of the camera moves forward with an active narration, laughingly stating, "So I was trying to teach these devils how to make oatmeal raisin cookies. I come back and this is the progress they've made."
A pause ensues with a chuckle from behind the camera, and the voice quips, "Nice job, Tadashi. Spike it a little more in front!"
"Come help us, Auntie Cass," the little voice pipes up in response and the camera lowers to the floor, the screen slowly fading into darkness.
The two beings sighed, feeling their souls warmed and full, no longer hollow and cripplingly empty. Hiro looked up towards his aunt, smiling, his eyes filled with a gratitude no words could ever express.
"Thanks, Aunt Cass," he said, his voice no longer cracking and hollow, but full.
"You're welcome, honey," she responded, squeezing him with the arm that was wrapped around his shoulder, their backs propped against several soft pillows.
"I think this has been good for both of us…"
Hiro nodded, about to speak once more, but was suddenly interrupted by the extremely unsubtle squeaking of a certain robot's vinyl skin. The two looked at each other and grinned, quipping simultaneously, "Come in, Baymax."
The robot poked his head inside the room, looking as sheepish as he could without facial expressions, trying to squeeze his rather rotund belly through the partially opened door.
"It's okay, Baymax. Just open it," Hiro said, chuckling quietly at the robot's ignorant ways.
"I see both of your neurotransmitter levels have decreased, indicating you are no longer anxious," stated Baymax, who was now standing at the foot of the bed, marshmallow arms hanging limply at his sides.
"Yeah, we feel much better."
Hiro stopped suddenly, the wheels in his mind turning as he began to process the events that had occurred. His eyes suddenly widened, and he added in a surprised tone, "You knew this would help, didn't you? I told me on purpose."
Baymax tilted his head to one side, a customary action for the sentient being, and replied, "I only do the instructed tasks Tadashi programmed me to do."
Hiro paused, for once smiling at the sound of his brother's name, responding with sincerity and emotion, "Thank you."
"Are you satisfied with my care, Hiro?"
"Yes, Baymax, I am satisfied with my care."
So as you can see, I saw Big Hero 6... Can you tell I enjoyed it?
R & R everyone! It makes me happy ^_^