wowee, such a positive response to the first chapter! i'm so thrilled you guys enjoyed it, and it makes me incredibly happy to hear that so many of you are excited for the story!
i need to mention that idohave finals coming up within the next couple of weeks, as i'm sure many of you do as well, so it will probably be a while between updates. please understand. i would love to just sit and work on this story all day, but i've already pushed off too much studying to get this chapter up. so to the guest(s) that keep demanding that i update, i'd appreciate it if you kept in mind that i have a few other things to do that are more important than writing fanfiction (as much as i wish that were not true). i'll get the chapters posted as quickly as i can, i promise (:
When Hiro opened his eyes, he saw the paramedics bending over the gurney. Or, more accurately, the boy now strapped to the gurney. He couldn't see clearly past all of the white uniforms, but his breath halted in his throat when he caught a brief glimpse of a familiar Converse sneaker under one woman's elbow. His legs twitched to run. If there hadn't been about a dozen police officers between him and his brother, he would have made a break for it. Instead he stood and stared with wide eyes, trying to get a clear view of his brother through the flurry of activity.
After a few minutes of watching with no luck, a medic who'd been busy scribbling things on a clipboard broke away from the group and began walking toward them. "Cass Hamada?"
The woman's head perked up. "Yes?"
Hiro's eyes snapped eagerly to the technician, heart thrumming wildly against his ribcage. Was this it? Was she going to tell him his brother was dead? That they'd done all they could but weren't able to save him?
"We haven't determined the extent of his injuries," she began, and Hiro thought he might collapse from relief. "But he's in critical condition. As soon as he's stabilized he'll be taken to the ICU immediately."
He's not dead. He's not dead.
Hiro closed his eyes, repeated the words over and over again in his head, but his heartbeat didn't slow. The words critical condition were ringing loudly in his ears. He tried to breathe deeply to calm his pulse, but it was hard to get air past the tight knot in his throat.
He's not dead.
Cass was hugging him again, probably to give herself the same kind of reassurance Hiro was looking for. When he hugged her back, he did it more for her sake than his own.
She let go after a few moments and Hiro took a small step back as she moved away to talk more with the paramedic, but made sure to stay within earshot. His eyes were once again glued to the place where Tadashi was being hovered over by medics. There were so, so many of them, and all so intently focused on what they were doing. Their urgency made Hiro's stomach churn.
Occasionally he'd catch sight of the gurney's frame or a piece of medical machinery the EMTs had set up around it, but he still couldn't see Tadashi. But the machinery was assurance enough, right? They wouldn't be using it if he wasn't alive. But they wouldn't be using it if he wasn't in desperate need of it either.
He's not dead. He's not dead.
The words had become a mantra playing in the back of his mind, but until he could see his brother for himself, he had a hard time taking comfort in it. His head was pounding and his throat ached and it would've been so easy to sit down on the pavement, close his eyes, and pretend that none of this was happening. The worst part was that Tadashi was the only one who could make anything better.
Why did this have to happen to him, that night of all nights? It was supposed to be a happy night, one of celebration. After weeks and weeks of scrutinizing labor and sleepless nights, Hiro had finally achieved what he'd worked so hard for. He'd done what Tadashi had been wanting him to do for so long. The pride and adoration shining in his older brother's eyes was as good a reward as the acceptance letter sitting in his pocket. Even though Hiro would never tell him, Tadashi's approval and praise meant more to him than any award or prize or letter any institute could offer. It had been a long time since Hiro had felt so elated and excited—a much better feeling than the fading rush he got from bot fighting.
And it had taken less than ten minutes for everything to turn into a nightmare. Suddenly there were ambulances and fire trucks and police cars everywhere, throwing bright shades of red and blue across the night, sirens and alarms screaming obscenely and shattering any calmness left in the vicinity. Nothing like the sound of sirens to plunge people into panic.
It was supposed to be Hiro's big night. He'd finally done something worthwhile and this happened. Tadashi had left him to go play hero and now he was in critical condition and could be dying and it wasn't fair!
It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not—
Hiro opened his eyes. The asphalt was suddenly much closer than he remembered. His legs must've given out again. The world was crumbling around him and now he was too. How appropriate.
"We can have you both taken in an ambulance behind his if you want," he heard the technician offer.
With no small amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet again. His head spun and he swayed on his feet, but he managed to tear his gaze away from the ground and focus it on the paramedic instead. It took even more effort to keep his voice from shaking when he said, "I want to go in the same ambulance."
The woman blinked at him, eyes flicking briefly to Cass before she shook her head. "Not a possibility. I'm sorry."
"Why not?" He wanted to come across as angry, but at the moment he lacked the strength to be angry. Instead he sounded exactly like what he was: a terrified, desperate little boy.
Maybe that was why sympathy seemed to suddenly melt the woman's stern features. She leaned down a bit to be at his eye level. "Your brother's not doing so well right now," she explained condescendingly, as if Hiro was a young child and couldn't figure that out on his own. "The EMTs need room to work on him. You'll get to see him soon, though. I promise."
Somehow that didn't give Hiro any kind of reassurance. His eyebrows furrowed even further and he bit down on his bottom lip to prevent tears from welling up. "Is he dying?"
The woman paused a moment and straightened. "Not if we can help it." With a brief smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she turned away from him and began speaking to his aunt again in lower tones about what Hiro guessed was medical paperwork.
And that was the end of that conversation. He was perceptive enough to gather that she was not going to offer any more information—not to him, anyway. The fourteen-year-old was left gaping at her back, which she'd turned on him fairly sharply. He should've been angry about not receiving a straight answer and being brushed off. He should've demanded to see his brother right that second. But…
But he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Something about the look in the paramedic's eyes made him suddenly apprehensive.
Stop being ridiculous.
He wanted Tadashi. He just wanted to see his brother.
But there was no fight left in him at that moment to get him to Tadashi's side. He blamed it on the jackhammers drilling in his skull. Otherwise he'd raise hell until he got what he wanted.
"Hiro," came a soft call from off to his right. "Hey, Hiro."
He looked up to see his friends staring at him eagerly. When he locked eyes with them, they all beckoned intently for him to come over. Cass was still busy talking to the EMT, so he sauntered past the portable metal barriers that had been set up to where they waited.
"Did they tell you anything?" Honey asked.
"Yeah, do you know how he is?" Wasabi echoed.
The group waited with bated breath while Hiro tried to pull his thoughts together so he could give them an answer. After a long pause, he swallowed thickly past an aching throat and shook his head. "They said he's in critical condition. That's all."
Honey covered her mouth with her hands, and then reached out to pull the small boy into a tight embrace. Hiro just had time to process the sweet scent of her perfume before he felt another pair of arms around his shoulders—Fred's, he guessed. Two more quickly followed, and soon all five of them were standing in one massive group hug.
Before he could stop himself, Hiro melted into the contact. Exhaustion was working its way through his body, turning his limbs to lead, but he didn't let it take him. Not yet. He let his brother's friends—his friends—support him, give him strength for the moment. It was still strange, having friends, but he certainly didn't mind. And he was actually thankful. He wasn't sure he could handle this on his own.
Right as he thought he might end up being suffocated by the bodies surrounding him, their grips loosened and everyone took a step back. Hiro inhaled the crisp night air and released it with a cough. Then, with a jolt, he realized his cheeks were damp again and he dried them with his sleeve before anyone had a chance to notice.
Hardly a second later, long, thin fingers came to rest on his shoulder and Honey's bespectacled face was smiling down at him warmly. "I'm sure he's going to be just fine, Hiro," she cooed.
"Yeah." Wasabi reached out a giant hand and gently ruffled Hiro's thick mop of hair. "Tadashi's one of the most stubborn people I know."
"And he talks about you, like, all the time," Fred added.
GoGo smirked. "I'm sure it'd take a lot more than this to make him leave you."
The words were meant to be comforting, but they sent a pang through Hiro's chest.
"Tadashi, no!"
"Callaghan's in there. Someone has to help."
Tadashi had left him. Left him standing there in front of the raging fire, alone, wondering if he was ever going to see him again. Left him drowning in his own fear, struggling to breathe past his own terror. And for what? For a professor? Even if it was Robert Callaghan, it made little difference to Hiro. He knew how much Tadashi admired the man, as did everyone who was even mildly interested in robotics. He shouldn't have mattered more to Tadashi than his own little brother.
But then, Tadashi never had been one to just stand by when someone was in need. Hiro always knew it would get him in trouble one day.
Still, he couldn't help feeling like his big brother had chosen Callaghan over him.
Or maybe Hiro should've gone in with him to help, like he was trying to before the explosion knocked him out. Maybe then this wouldn't have happened.
Or maybe they would've both been killed.
He shook the thoughts from his head. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on what could have happened. The only thing that really mattered at the moment was that Tadashi was alive, and that felt like a miracle. Hiro couldn't deny that he was hurt by his brother's decision, but he didn't have the heart to be angry with him. Not yet. Not when he'd just come so close to losing him.
Not when he still might.
"Hey."
Hiro blinked, distantly realizing his eyelids felt like sandpaper. GoGo was staring at him, a touch of concern evident in her otherwise emotionless expression.
"You okay?" she inquired.
He rubbed at his nose with his knuckle. "Yeah."
She regarded him silently for a moment longer. Then, in one fluid motion, she grabbed the hat from his hand and pulled it firmly over his head, wiggling the brim for good measure. "Don't look so gloomy, kid. He's going to be all right."
She sounded so incredibly confident, like she already knew it was a fact. Hiro didn't feel nearly as sure, but her certainty was comforting nonetheless. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "How do you know?"
"Woman's intuition." A pink bubble inflated before her lips and she popped it with her teeth. "Duh."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Hiro's mouth. Something about the way GoGo carried herself made him think that she was never wrong about anything. Maybe, with any luck, this would be no exception. The little bit of hope that had sparked in his chest grew just a fraction more, and he let it.
"We're here for you, Hiro," Honey said gently. "Remember that, okay?"
He'd just begun to nod when Cass called his name. Hiro turned eagerly.
"They're taking him to the hospital now," she informed. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah." He took a step forward, and then paused to shoot a questioning glance at his friends.
Wasabi gestured toward the ambulances with his head. "Go on, Hiro. Let us know when you hear any news, okay?"
The fourteen-year-old nodded. "I will." And with that, he spun on his heel and ran to his aunt's side.
The ride to the hospital was quiet, but Hiro preferred it that way. His exhaustion and injuries were slowly catching up with him and he, frankly, didn't feel up to trying to make conversation with anyone. And then there was the fact that his stomach was in knots because Tadashi was in a completely different ambulance and Hiro had no idea what was going on inside it. He couldn't stop himself from wondering if he was dead yet.
Every time he did, his stomach tied itself in another knot.
Occasionally he would glance over at Cass to see her with her hands in front of her mouth, fingers laced together tightly, and tears glistening in her eyes. But then she would catch Hiro looking at her, wipe the moisture away quickly and give him a smile he could easily tell was forced. He hated that she felt the need to put up some kind of front for him. And he'd always hated it when she cried. The sight of her sniveling made him want to comfort her somehow, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words, "It'll be all right," because it seemed like such a lie.
In the end, he settled for reaching over and taking her hand. She looked at him in surprise when he did, but Hiro just kept his gaze on his shoes and gave her fingers a squeeze. Cass returned the gesture, and the silence resumed.
When they neared the hospital, the EMT that had been riding with them in the back informed that Hiro would be taken to the emergency room upon arrival for a follow-up examination. The concussion must've been rendering him uncharacteristically compliant, because as much as he wanted to insist that he was fine and didn't need or want any more treatment, he remained silent about it. Maybe because he knew Cass would disagree with him, and he didn't want to put her through any more that night.
He seemed to have slipped back into a listless state during the drive. The ambulance came to a stop in front of the hospital and he was herded out and through the doors, and everything was a blur. He looked around for Tadashi, but Tadashi wasn't there. There were white walls, white floors, and white doors but no sign of his brother.
The examination didn't take long, and Hiro didn't really remember much of it. People poked and prodded him, asked him questions he mumbled half thought out answers to, gave him some sort of medicine, and stitched up the small gash at his temple. They removed Tadashi's hat for that part, and the only moment Hiro gave any emotional reaction at all was to snatch it back from the nurse with a scowl and hold it protectively in his lap for the rest of the checkup.
His condition must have been declared under control, because after a while Cass was finishing up paperwork and thanking the doctor and guiding Hiro out into the hallway. Neither of them said a word as they rode an elevator up a few floors and wandered through a maze of brightly lit halls until they reached a waiting room by the ICU. Cass sank into a chair with a long, weary sigh and dropped her head into her palm. Hiro sat beside her, keeping his hands in his lap and his eyes on his yellow shoelaces.
He didn't want to be there. He hated hospitals. Always had. They were so…clinical. So unfeeling. And after breathing in smoky air for so long, the hospital air tasted sharp and sterile and made Hiro's nose itch. And it was so quiet it almost hurt.
"They told me he's in surgery," Cass said suddenly. "While you were getting checked out."
Hiro's heart lurched sickeningly in his chest. His eyes snapped up to his aunt in surprise.
"That was all, though," she was quick to add, and Hiro's shoulders drooped again. She laid a hand on his knee. "But I'm sure we'll hear some news soon."
Her eyes were still teary and her face sadder than it ever ought to be, but she was smiling at him again. He tried to smile back, even if it felt pretty pathetic. There were times when his aunt's optimism annoyed him (even though he would never let her know that), but there were also times when he was actually very grateful for it. Now was definitely one of those times. Even when she was sad, she always had a warmth about her that Hiro found inexplicably comforting. He was suddenly seized by a rush of thankfulness for the fact that he had her for support.
But she wasn't always right. Fifteen long minutes of waiting stretched into thirty, and thirty slowly became an hour. Cass was constantly moving, tucking her feet under her or flipping through one of the provided magazines or getting up to stretch, but Hiro remained almost completely still. His thumb stroked steadily over the brim of Tadashi's cap, but that was the extent of his activity. Maybe it was the effects of the concussion or leftover shock, but he couldn't seem to drag himself out of what felt like a constant daze.
"It's getting pretty late," Cass commented eventually. "Maybe we should go home for a while. I'll make us some dinner and you can get cleaned up rest a little."
Hiro immediately shook his head. "You can go if you want. I'm staying here until I see Tadashi."
He knew it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, but he couldn't fathom leaving his brother alone in this place until he at least got to see how he was doing.
His aunt released a soft breath. "Well, I'm not leaving you here by yourself, so I guess we'll both wait."
Another silence enveloped the waiting room, with only the functioning sounds of the hospital to fill the empty void of conversation. An attendant wheeled a cart down the hallway, someone coughed nearby, a distant door opened and closed. Then Hiro's phone vibrated in his pocket.
It was a text from Honey Lemon.
Hi Hiro! We're all wondering if you've heard any news yet?
The boy sighed deeply. He contemplated not answering since it seemed like it would expend more effort than he was willing to put in, but it probably wasn't fair to them. They'd been waiting just as long as he had.
No. Not yet.
He crammed the phone back into his pocket and slumped down in the chair. "Do you think he's gonna be okay?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Even without looking, he could feel Cass regarding him sympathetically. She wrapped her arm snugly around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I think he's gonna be just fine."
Hiro couldn't tell if she was only saying it for his sake or not.
They waited another hour before anything happened. Hiro's exhaustion finally caught up with him and he'd slipped into a doze, head resting on his aunt's shoulder.
He awoke with a start at the sound of footsteps and a stranger's voice saying, "Miss Hamada?"
There was a man standing before them in the waiting room—a doctor, Hiro guessed. He was middle-aged, thick in stature, with frameless glasses and thinning blond hair. A reassuring type of man, the kind that looked like he knew what he was doing. That didn't do anything to prevent Hiro's stomach from turning somersaults in his gut, even as he blinked sleep from his eyes.
He had hopped up from his chair in half a second, and Cass wasn't far behind. His heart was suddenly hammering so hard against his chest it was almost painful and he couldn't breathe.
"I'm Dr. Boyd," the man introduced. "I've been overseeing your nephew's operation."
Hiro could've thrown up. His hands were tingling and sweating as they wrung the baseball cap.
"Cass Hamada," his aunt returned, reaching out to shake the doctor's hand. There wasn't much cordiality in her voice, and that was how Hiro could tell she was almost as anxious as he was.
Luckily, the man seemed to know that this wasn't a time for formalities. His gaze fell to a clipboard in his hand, eyes perusing the information it held. "Well, I'm pleased to tell you that the surgery went better than expected. We might need to schedule another one in the near future, but that can be discussed later. I'm sure you're wondering about Tadashi's condition."
Hiro found himself nodding earnestly. His eyes were the size of baseballs as they stared at the man, his whole body leaning forward in eagerness.
Dr. Boyd kept his eyes on his papers. "I'll be completely honest with you—his injuries are severe and it's highly unlikely he'll ever…make a full recovery."
Something tight closed around Hiro's throat.
"As you've no doubt already gathered, he received multiple burns, many of which are of the third degree," the doctor continued. "It seems that his left side took the brunt of the damage, particularly the arm and shoulder. The nerve damage in those areas is fairly extensive, so it's uncertain whether he'll regain full use of the left arm. The left cornea was burned, which may cause vision problems. There were also burns to the neck and face, but those should heal without much complication."
He paused for a moment to lift a sheet of paper on the clipboard.
Hiro couldn't breathe. There was more news coming, he could tell. His heart was in his throat and he wanted to scream for the doctor to just spit it out, but he couldn't make a sound.
When the large man took a deep breath and let the paper fall, it was in slow motion. "Aside from several miscellaneous lacerations and smoke damage," he said slowly, "there is one more prominent injury, and this one concerns me the most. I was informed that when he was rescued from the building, the firemen found him trapped under a fallen beam. As far as we can tell, that beam is responsible for shattering Tadashi's pelvis, as well as a break in the lumbar region of his spinal cord. It…it appears to be a complete injury, which means that all sensory and motor functions below the break are lost."
From the corner of his eye, Hiro noticed Cass shaking her head. "You…it…he's…?" Her voice was small and tearful as she stumbled over words she wouldn't find.
The doctor found them for her. "I highly doubt he'll ever walk again. I'm sorry."