A/N: Just as a fair warning, this story contains mild spoilers. I don't really reveal anything, but there are a couple things in here that are in the movie. Anyway, enjoy.

Sleepless

It was past midnight. His aunt had already drifted off to sleep; however, he couldn't find it in himself to fall asleep. For about two hours, after they had told each other goodnight, he went straight up to his room, plopped on his bed, and cried.

Cried because he missed his brother. Cried because he hated the man who caused his death nearly a year ago. Cried because he wished everything would go back to normal. His brother should be here, either saving him from another bot-fight or lecturing him about what to do next with that "big brain of [his]"; or making a ruckus, staying up late playing video games till two or three in the morning, then being lectured by their aunt.

But now, everything was always quiet. And he felt alone. Even though Baymax was the closest thing he had to his brother, the robot could only fill part of the void in his heart. He felt so lost without Tadashi. His brother, and practically father-figure, was gone and there was no way he could come back. If only he'd been able to hold him back a few more seconds before the building exploded . . .

The scene of picking up Tadashi's hat, staring at the burning building, then watching it explode with his brother still in it filled his mind and caused him to cry even harder. He wanted to scream. He wanted the man held responsible for that fire dead. He wanted his brother back!

For hours he cried—not caring how much of mess he looked— until he had no more tears to cry; until his head hurt from all pain he felt; he continued to cry. First his parents, then his brother, then—although for only a short period—Baymax. He sometimes wondered—although berated himself afterwards—how much longer Aunt Cass would be around before he lost her too.

Breathing deeply, Hiro slowly sat up from his tear-soaked pillow, still sobbing slightly. His head pounded from all the exertion he used to cry his heart out, and his throat and chest ached, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything or anyone at this moment—not even himself. There were few times when he'd feel so depressed, he'd almost start cutting his wrists if it meant substituting physical pain for the overwhelming heartache he felt. But every time he'd pull out the knife or scissors or whatever blade he could find, he'd stop himself because he knew that no matter how much he wanted to slit his wrists open, he couldn't find it in himself to actually do it. Then, after numerous attempts which all failed, he'd realize he couldn't, then bang his fist on whatever surface he was near—be it the wall, floor, desk; anything—out of frustration . . . because he felt weak.

This time, however, he didn't have that urge to hurt himself—even though he'd never do it when given the chance. This time, he decided to preoccupy himself with something different other than Tadashi's death and lacerating his skin. Still sniffling, he got up from his bed and walked over to the staircase. Since his head still hurt, he felt a little dizzy and hit his hip on the post of the staircase.

Muttering a small "ow", he made his way downstairs towards the basement where all his robotic engineering was. Unlocking his laptop, he pulled up holographic models of the team's suits. For the past few weeks, he'd been trying to upgrade their suits to give them either higher speed; more elements and compounds; an extra amount of fire to breathe; lighter, thinner, yet sharper laser blades; tiny bombs or rockets to shoot; and microbots.

Even though most of them had been lost to another dimension, a few of them survived. And with them, Hiro began producing more to use them for similar purposes as Yokai had. Of course he wasn't going to use them to hurt someone—much—but he would use them to apprehend the villain—whoever the next villain was.

As he continued to think about villains and evil masterminds Hiro's eyes began to tear up again. He still couldn't believe how heartless and cruel HE had been.

"That was his mistake!"

The words rang in his head over and over and grief took over his emotional status. He began trembling in anger, wanting to punch the wall or anything if it meant he was able to release some of his anger. But that wouldn't accomplish anything. Tadashi was gone and there was no way to bring him back.

He put his hands on the table in front of him—his fists were tight, making his knuckles white as he tried to keep himself from destroying anything in his lab—and resting his head on the table as he tried to keep the tears from cascading down his cheeks. But the more he thought about everything that happened, the heavier his chest felt and the harder it was to keep the tears in.

Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore. His face became wet with the salty liquid again, and he was about to punch the computer screen in front of him when he felt something soft and squishy hug him from behind.

From the large white arms, he didn't have to think twice to know it was Baymax.

Hiro's breath caught in his throat as he choked on his sobs at the sudden contact with his huggable robot, but after a few seconds, he turned around in his spinning chair and hugged Baymax, burying his face into the robot's squishy abdomen; bawling into it as he held him.

"It is alright Hiro," Baymax said. "Crying is a natural response to pain."

Hiro continued to cry into Baymax and he stayed like that for who knows how long. His headache had subsided from the short amount of time he'd calmed down, but now, it felt like his head would combust and his eyes and cheeks stung from all the tears. No doubt his face was puffy and red too, and his throat was sore as well, but he didn't care at all. He'd cried himself to sleep many times at night after Tadashi, but this time, his weeping just would not cease. He didn't know if maybe it was because Baymax was with him, or because all of the pain he wouldn't fully let go finally met its toll.

"I miss him," Hiro sobbed against Baymax.

"Tadashi is here," said the robot. He stood up away from Hiro and began playing the recordings of Tadashi's attempts to perfect Baymax.

With swollen eyes, Hiro watched the videos from beginning to end, never taking his eyes off his brother. He smiled as he watched each video of Tadashi's failed attempts and chuckled a few times at the expression on his face when the videos paused. Seeing the videos of his brother when he was alive filled the hole in Hiro's heart; he never wanted them to end.

Hiro's eyes welled up when the last video played of Baymax finally working and Tadashi becoming overjoyed. It made Hiro elated to see his brother so excited about something he'd worked so hard on perfecting and that he couldn't wait to show Baymax to him.

"That's all for now," Tadashi's recorded voice said. "I am satisfied with my care." Then the recording paused, and ended.

Hiro touched the screen where his brother's smiling face was and the tears gently slid down Hiro's cheeks—a lot softer than the ones before. He knew that with the recordings, Tadashi's smile and voice would never be forgotten. His brother would always be there, and that's all he needed to know to feel better.

He wiped away the tears, even though they continued to fall, looked up at Baymax, then hugged him again.

"Thank you Baymax," Hiro whispered. He felt Baymax lean into him and wrap his arms around his small form. After a few more moments of Baymax's comfort, the two pulled away. Hiro shut everything down and they made their way back upstairs.

"You are exhausted," Baymax said once they reached Hiro's room. The addressed boy turned around to face the robot, his face still puffy and red. "You have spent six hours, forty-seven minutes, and fifty-two seconds of lamentation." The robot blinked, then continued. "Due to your tension and stress, you are suffering from a mild migraine. It has also caused your throat and chest to constrict."

Hiro glanced down for a second, then back up at Baymax whose eyes blinked again.

"You should get some rest. Your eyes are swollen."

"Thanks Baymax," Hiro said softly as he climbed into his bed. He looked at his digital clock beside his bed. 5:48 A.M. it blinked. He had been up all night crying. He felt like such a baby. Crying wasn't going to bring Tadashi back, but it helped release the pain Hiro felt without his brother there.

"Are you satisfied with your care?" Baymax asked, now standing over Hiro.

The young boy made himself comfortable in his bed, but didn't lie down just yet. He looked up at his robot companion, feeling he still needed someone to comfort him.

"I'm actually not," Hiro said, sniffling again—his throat felt dry.

"What is it you require this time?" the robot asked.

Hiro then wrapped his arms around as much as he could of Baymax. He felt the robot return the hug again and his eyes began tearing again, only this time, they were happy tears. He was happy he had Baymax.

"I'm satisfied with my care," Hiro whispered into Baymax. He didn't want to let go, but he had to if Baymax were to return to his luggage. The young boy watched the robot shrink, then lied down slowly. As he slept, he dreamt of the fun times he had with Tadashi: the happy, the sad, every one of them. Because no matter what,

Tadashi was always with him.

Second A/N: Go ahead and kill me if this seems crappy. I only wrote it because one night I was feeling a lot like Hiro in this fic, although for other reasons, and stayed up till around 5:30-ish in the morning. Sorry if it seems a little rushed, I didn't know what else to put in it.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and if you want, review, tell me what you thought. Thanks :3