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It was a junkyard, filled with wreckage, rubble, and debris. But no bugs. That was a good sign. Holding his hand to his eyes, he surveyed the surroundings. Just sand, dry, cracked ground, and abandoned, worn down buildings. But there was no sign of water, food, or supplies either. That wasn't a good sign. With what they had left, they'd only last a few more days. They needed to find some new supplies fast. But they wouldn't be able to do it today. It was dusk already; the bugs should be out soon. He blinked some sand out of his eyes.

It had been about two months since San Fransokyo had been run over. Only seemed like yesterday. He sighed and shielded his eyes from a gust of dusty wind. His footing in the loose sand started to wobble and quickly slid down the sand dune, stumbling to his feet. Rounding the corner of a sorry-looking building, he found Tadashi, catching his breath while he sat. "Find anything?" he asked in a dry voice.

"Nope," Hiro reported as he knelt. "But they'll be out soon."

"Then we need to find some shelter," Tadashi said. He coughed. Hiro quickly grabbed the water canister at his hip and offered it to him. Tadashi shook his head. "No. That water's yours."

Hiro pushed it toward him again. "Take it. I can find some more." He slid it into Tadashi's hand. His brother let out a defeated sigh and drank.

Tadashi had been hurt bad, since their last mechanical bug attack weeks ago. He was deeply cut in his side and his leg and they didn't have anything to treat it. Hiro had… shared his shirt sleeves to wrap it, so now he sported a tank top instead. He slung their bulky backpack filled with their tools, supplies and junk over his shoulder. "We should move on soon." he said, looking out.

"Where will you find water?" Tadashi screwed the canister lid on tight, handing it back.

Hiro attached it to the backpack and brushed some dust off his shirt. "I'll find some. Somewhere," he added quietly.

Truth was, there was no real source of water anymore. You could only find it scavenging for supplies or if it rained. And right now, the ecosystem hated them. He couldn't even remember when was the last time it rained. Though they'd carefully rationed their water, it was almost gone. They would have to find some more soon.

Hiro let out a breath and held out his arms. "I'm ready." He helped Tadashi lean onto his shoulder and slowly stood up, helping him trudge through the streets. He strained to support his brother, who definitely weighed more than he did. The sun was almost down, threatening to kill their only source of outside light. Hiro looked up at the dry, empty skyscrapers and buildings. He gently nudged Tadashi towards the sidewalk, helping him up the curb and letting him take a break on a bench. "How about an empty apartment?" he asked.

Tadashi shrugged. "Sounds better than that junk heap you chose last night."

When they found a building riddled with empty apartments, they pushed their way past the broken doors and up the stairs, slowly, painfully, but surely. To their discovery, some of the apartments had occupants of their own. They glared at the brothers as they passed. When they finally found an empty apartment without a hole in the floor, Hiro let Tadashi down inside and slung the backpack off his shoulder, panting heavily and wiping sweat from his brow. It was small, the paint was peeling off the walls, and a good layer of dust coated everything. He closed the door and crossed over to the window. Below him, he could see the streets, the color of dry beige where the sand had blown. He could've sworn he felt a breeze through his hair, but realized it was just his imagination. Straining to spot any mechanical bugs down below, he found none. He sat at the window for the last few hours until the sky went dark.

"You coming?"

Hiro turned around to see Tadashi sitting up on the extra-large sleeping bag they'd found a couple weeks back. They originally had to share a small one, and it was so tiny that they just used it as a mattress. Even then, they kept finding themselves on the floor in the morning. Hiro left the window and settled himself next to Tadashi. It was too hot out, so no reason to get inside. Hopefully, the bugs wouldn't find them here. Hopefully. His mind started drifted elsewhere. To his Aunt Cass and Baymax. They hadn't seen them ever since the invasion. They could be alive, but he didn't know anything for sure. They could be. Hiro found it hard to believe, though. Aunt Cass was probably killed or eaten, Baymax destroyed. Hiro stopped himself from going further. They might be out there. He closed his eyes. "Good night, Dashi," he murmured.

Tadashi let out a breath. "I wish."

( — )

Hiro jerked awake with a small gasp. He was met with the darkness around them and of the ceiling above. He sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. It was only a nightmare. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and looked over at Tadashi. Still sleeping, undisturbed. Hiro sighed and settled himself on the sleeping bag again, letting out a breath.

Someone moaned.

Hiro's eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up. He looked over at Tadashi. "Are you awake?" he asked.

Silence.

Hiro slowly turned his big lump of a brother over. His head lolled. Hiro shot down to press his ear to Tadashi's chest. He was breathing. What was wrong…? He looked over Tadashi again. "Tadashi?" he whispered. "Tadashi! Dashi!" he hissed. He shook his brother. "Tadashi!" He was getting frantic.

"Hiro..." Tadashi moaned again.

"Tadashi, what's wrong?"

"Hiro, I don't—feel—"

"What? You don't feel what?" Hiro felt his eyes grow with worry.

"It's weird. It hurts, but…it's numb."

Hiro blindly dug around in his backpack for the flashlight. His fingers brushed it, and he delved in deeper, his hand reemerging with the flashlight. He flicked it on and shined it on Tadashi's leg, slowly pulling the pant leg up. He pulled his hand back with a gasp. What he saw made him want to shove Tadashi away from him and scramble to the farthest wall.

Tadashi's leg was a blackish blue, and the blood had dried a deep red. Hiro pointed the flashlight away so he wouldn't have to look. "Tadashi, I think you have blood poisoning," he reported grimly. His brother made no reply. "Tadashi? Tadashi!" Hiro hissed. "What do I do?"

Tadashi limply shook his head. "We need help. But this can wait—until morning, though," he said. "I don't want you out—there."

"Tadashi, you need help now!" Hiro exclaimed, keeping his voice low. "Now how do I treat this thing?"

"You…need a massive dose of penicillin," Tadashi replied, nodding off.

"Tadashi? No. No, no, stay with me." He reached over and pinched Tadashi's cheek, shaking it. Tadashi moaned in protest and swatted his hand away. "Aauuurgh! Shtop…!" He elbowed Hiro in the gut.

He wheezed. "Glad to see…you're still awake," he panted. "Where is the penicillin anyway?"

"We don't have any."

One of their neighbors thumped the walls loudly. "QUIET!" they hissed.

Hiro paused. "Then I'll go find some. Where's the gun?"

"Hiro, no, listen to me." Tadashi quickly reached out, grabbing Hiro's arm. "You can't go—out there—alone. Not with those things," he said earnestly. "I can't lose you, too."

"That so? I can't lose you either," Hiro said. "I'm going to the hospital. And there's no way you're gonna stop me. Maybe it'll have something." He reached into the backpack, pulling out an empty duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder.

"Hiro, promise me—that you'll come straight—back," Tadashi rasped. He gripped Hiro's arm tighter. "Don't go anywhere—else."

Hiro looked back at his brother. He nodded. "Okay. I promise."

Tadashi nodded back. He slowly brought out the gun from the inner pocket of his green blazer piled on the floor and placed it in Hiro's hand firmly. "Stay safe," he said. "And—if you have to, shoot straight."

Hiro nodded again and stood up. "Alright. As long as you don't die on me."

Tadashi let out a breath. "If I'm not murdered by one of our neighbors first."

Hiro leaned down to give him a brief hug. "I'll be back soon," He whispered.

When he was down the stairs as quietly as he could, Hiro then slowly squeezed out the front door and crouched behind some rubble, peering out into the street. No bugs. He held the gun firmly in his hand and quickly pulled out the cartridge, counting the bullets.

Eight.

Eight bullets. Hopefully he wouldn't have to use them. Walking down the street, he glanced around nervously for mechanical bugs. The worst kind of mechanical bugs were the ones with faces. They became what they ate. If they ate a person, they sported the person's face, only where the eyes should be: glowing, green, mechanical bug eyes. It made him want to throw up when he saw them like that. But he'd done that a long time ago. He shivered. He hated walking out here. In the middle of the night. Alone. With no one with him. Alone. When someone could ambush him. Alone…

Hiro made his way through the streets silently, not risking the comforting light of his flashlight for the sake of concealment. Any sound made his heart skip a beat. Debris falling, sliding off something. Wind howling. The occasional creak of groaning skyscrapers and beat-up bridges. He paused when he heard the sound of rapid clicking. Metallic clicking. His heart pounding like a jackhammer, he quickly dove behind an abandoned car and waited as the clicking grew louder. A minute passed. He took the risk of slowly bending down to look under the car. A lone mechanical bug patrolled down the streets, grunting and gazing around the rubble, it's green eyes shedding light over everything. Hiro dared not to breath and thought that even his heart beat was too loud. He held the gun firmly.

No.

No, he wouldn't use the bullets. He ever so slowly stood up, peering just above the window. The bug had just passed. He slowly took a step. The debris clacked as his foot stepped on it. He froze. The rapid clicking of the bug's feet had paused. Hiro bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. Then the clicking continued on. He slowly opened his eyes. I'm not eaten. I'm not eaten. I'm not eaten. He repeated to himself reassuringly. Stepping out from behind the car, he continued on.

Hiro finally emerged from behind a battered car and a heap of wreckage that seemed to consist of heating pipes, shattered glass, and broken concrete walls. In front of him stood a gigantic building, around 15 stories high, with broken glass, walls and windows, and groaning support beams. It was leaning dangerously to the left, and power cables were draped everywhere, snapped and broken. Hiro started a jog, and stopped at what was left of a set of double swinging doors, filled with smashed glass threatening to cut his legs if he stepped through. Above it was a bent, dusty plaque, which read: Hochi Takaga San Fransokyo Hospital.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and stepped through the crushed door, trying not to touch the reaching glass. Clicking on his flashlight and shining it around, he found that everything was broken, battered, dirty, and a few parts of the ceiling were laying fallen on the floor, with broken pipes and cables strewn everywhere. He walked over to a sign listing the elevator and the different levels. Rubbing off a layer of dust, he followed the words with his finger. Did he have to check all 20 floors? He slowly maneuvered through the rubble and wreckage until he reached a hall. He walked down it, his black chucks kicking up the dust on the dirty white floor. His eyes spied a door. Room one. It was a good place to start.

Hiro froze as the building suddenly groaned with weight. Breathing heavily, he listened. When all was quiet, he pressed the door slightly. It didn't budge. He pushed harder, and it still didn't move. He pressed his back against it, and it squeaked open, leading him to discover that there was a table tray and a piece of ceiling up against the door. Grunting, he managed to push the door open enough for him to squeeze in. He stepped over the trash and cleared off a counter with is arm, opening a drawer. Okay. Packs of disinfecting wipes and rolls of gauze wraps. Hiro grabbed all the rolls and stuffed them into the duffle bag. Picking up a packet that seemed to be filled with some sort of cream, he shook it. He didn't know what it was. He tossed a few into his bag anyway along with a few disinfecting wipe packs. Then he carefully closed the drawer and opened the next. Paper towels? Sure. More disinfecting wipes? Why not. Cough drops? Mm... no. Tongue compressors? No way. Penicillin? Aspirin? Score. Stuffing the various items into his bag, he left the room and checked a few more. Most of the other rooms had the same stuff. He did find a jar of some sort of gel, but whatever it was turned bad a long time ago. He checked all the sinks in hopes of water. None of them worked.

After he'd checked all the rooms on that floor, he opened the door to the flight of stairs and made his way up, his footsteps echoing crisply. He tugged open the door to the second floor and looked down the hall. No bugs. Only an eerie silence. He checked the other rooms, finding more gauze wrap, paper towels, and disinfecting wipes, along with some pills and medicine that he didn't know. He opened a door and found another room with a broken fake skeleton laying on the floor. With a dry scoff, he kicked it aside and went through the drawers. Nothing new. He pulled out a bottle and shook it. Opening the lid, he poured a white rain of dust into the sink. Those were probably pills a long time ago. He prodded into a few more bottles and found more penicillin. Then he finally twisted the cold knob on the sink. It let out a dry squeak, but there was no water. He slapped the counter it frustration. No water. Well, what was he supposed to expect? Fountains gushing through the pipes? Turning to leave, he grabbed the door knob when he heard something echoing in the hall. He threw himself behind the cushioned chair in the middle of the room, accidentally rustling the lamp attached to the chair frame, and waited. He held the gun firmly in his hand, his finger on the trigger. Tadashi's words rang in his ears. If you have to, shoot straight.

Then the door squeaked open. With finger on the trigger, Hiro whirled himself around and raised the gun.

It was a boy.

A boy with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, around his age, and a gun was slung over his shoulder. They both froze and stared at each other, wide eyed, and Hiro made the mistake of lowering his gun. The boy sprang on him, pushing him to the floor. Hiro let out a painful yell as his head hit hard rubble. The boy was trying to get the gun off his own shoulder and hit Hiro in the face at the same time, keeping him to the floor with his boot on his chest. Hiro felt the gun fly out of his hands and clatter to the floor a few inches away. The boy finally wrestled the gun off his shoulder and pointed it straight for Hiro's head. "Who are you?" he asked in a stern voice.

Hiro just kicked the gun right out of his hands, stubbing his toe. He reached up to try and push the boy off, but the boy punched him. The two rolled around in the rubble, hitting and kicking. Hiro's lip was bleeding when he grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him around, trying to throw him off. He heard the door slam open and heavy footsteps.

"What the—Francis? FRANCIS!" accused a harsh voice. He felt a hand grip him tightly, and the boy, apparently 'Francis' was pushed aside. Hiro gave a gasp for breath, his face free from hands and feet. Then another hand gripped him and then someone else started hitting him. Hiro couldn't see his new attacker very well, but it was a girl. Then Hiro, Francis, and the girl all started to wrestle, rolling around in the wreckage. Only…the girl seemed to be on Francis's side. They both held him to the ground and he was finally hauled up and slammed against some drawers. Hiro winced as the drawer handles stuck into his bruised back.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" a voice hissed. The girl was staring fiercely at him, her brown eyes harsh and her hands clutching his shirt collar tightly in fists.

Hiro coughed. "H-Hiro," he managed weakly. "My name's Hiro."

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked.

"I-I was trying to find supplies," he said. "I was!"

"Easy, girl," a male voice cautioned. "Don't beat him up too bad. I think he's telling the truth." Hiro could see a black man next to Francis with his dark hair in short dreadlocks, held back with a headband. He also had a big gun in his hands. Behind him stood a boy, around 17, fair skin, dark hair, dark eyes, holding a gun. He looked Asian. Come to think of it, they all had guns. And were wearing black wristbands. The girl scowled and pulled him up roughly, crossing her arms. Hiro leaned heavily against the counter, coughing violently. He wiped his mouth, staining his jacket sleeve with dark splotches of blood.

He finally got a good look at the girl. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail with multicolored clips stuck randomly in her hair and bangs fell around her flushed face. She had a faded, pink tank top and a dirty, teal, hoodie with short sleeves. She wore brown Capri with two tall mismatch socks that looked like candy canes which were bagging over her black boots. She looked like a very angry, futuristic candy fairy.

"Let me see your bag," she near demanded. Hiro quickly handed it over. The girl unzipped it and started to poke around. "That's a lot of wrap you have," she observed and grabbed some rolls.

"Hey! Find your own!" Hiro snatched the bag out of her hands.

"You aren't hurt or anything! You don't need it!" she spat. "We do, cuz we need to help…other people. So give it back." She held out her hand. "Look, I'll let you have one fifths of what's in there."

"Or maybe, you can find your own instead of stealing," Hiro said. "You're just robbing me of what's rightfully mine. You have no right. There are plenty of other floors I haven't been to. Go check for yourself."

"Steal it—!" The girl ran forward and tried to hit Hiro, but Hiro held the bag up protectively. "I'M NOT A THEIF!" she yelled, her eyes blazing.

"Vanellope." The black man placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "It's his. We don't have the right to take it," he said. "So leave him be."

"But I'm not a thief!"

"You were taking his stuff…" the Asian kid started. "That's the basis of stealing."

"Nobody asked you," the girl sniffed.

Hiro stopped, a clicking filling the air. "Quiet," he said.

The girl looked at him oddly. "What?"

Hiro said lowered his hand for emphasis. They all listened. There was a rapid, metallic clicking down the hall. They all looked at each other. Hiro's eyes wide. "Cybug," Francis muttered and they all grabbed their guns.

Hiro grabbed his gun from the floor and cocked it. The girl slowly nudged the door with her foot and peeked down the hall. Hiro held his breath. Please let there be one. Just one. He thought desperately. Just one or two. One or two. Or three. One, two, or three.

The girl pulled herself back in. "There's nine," she breathed.

Hiro felt his heart sink. Nine. The black man nodded and he slowly stepped into the hall. He suddenly pulled the trigger and fired a line of bullets as a piercing shriek filled the air. It was deafening. Francis, Hiro, the other boy, and the girl all stepped out as well and shot their guns. Two of the bugs had faces. One was an elderly old man, and the other was a middle-aged woman. Hiro felt a sickening feeling rise in his throat, but he pressed it down and carefully aimed and pulled the trigger, but his shot missed. Francis pulled the trigger over and over, the bullets raining down on the nine mechanical bugs. They were skittering closer, their mouths wide open. Their screeches rang in the air. The building groaned dangerously, creaking.

Francis pulled the other boy aside. "I'll go. Cover me." He stepped out again and fired his rifle at the oncoming bugs, taking a few steps closer for a better shot. The other boy shot the bugs that were dangerously close. Francis shot one right in the eye and it screeched madly. It rushed around blindly and suddenly crashed into Francis, knocking him to the floor. The mechanical bug grabbed Francis in its mouth and tried to bite down, it's teeth dangerously close to the boy's neck. Francis let out a scream.

"FRANCIS!" the girl screamed in panic.

Hiro suddenly ran forward and shot the bug right in the eye, making it screech. He hit it with the handle of his gun over and over again, until it released Francis, throwing him onto the floor in a heap. Francis scrambled away, retrieving his gun. Hiro was then knocked to the floor. The mechanical bug skittered on top of him and screeched in his face, displaying a sharp array of metal fangs. He reached over and grabbed a bar of metal with large chips of cement on it, and whacked it into the bug's face. He kicked it underneath, and slowly fought it back. He dealt it one final blow to the eyes, and it screeched once more before the lights in its eyes went out and it fell to the floor in a clanking heap. Hiro threw it off himself in panic and stood up, grabbing his gun and joining the others, making sure he had all his fingers.

"Kid, I'm impressed," the Asian guy said with a quick nod.

The five retreated down the hall, firing their guns after the bugs. Hiro pulled the trigger, and he only got an empty click. Hiro pulled it again, clicking. It was empty. He threw it at the bugs. One of them quickly ate it and two guns emerged from underneath it. They all stared in horror. Then the guns only clicked. One of them was shot in the eye, and started to dance around madly, screeching and bumping into things. The girl shot it again, it suddenly stopped, its eyes went out, and it hunkered down into a fizzing heap.

"THIS WAY!" the man yelled and opened the door to the stairs. Hiro, Francis, the other boy, and the girl ran through the door and the man slammed it closed, barring the door with a metal pipe, which he slid through the handle. The mechanical bugs rammed into the door, shattering the glass window. They rammed themselves continuously, making large dents. The man ushered them quickly down the stairs.

Hiro slammed his hands into the door, pushing it open. He froze when he saw what was down the hall, blocking the main door. He quickly closed the door, breathing heavily. "There's two more," he whispered. The man quickly barred the door in the same manner. They watched as the two bugs quickly ran over to the door and began ramming it. Hiro suddenly felt faint. The doors were blocked.

The girl ran down the remaining flight of stairs. "Come on! Let's try the parking garage." The others followed her lead and they ran down. Everything became even more dark as they came to the garage door. The man pushed it open and they ran through.

It was pitch black. Hiro quickly flicked on his flashlight and shone it around. There were a few abandoned cars in the parking spaces, and the lights were all out. The others pulled out flashlights as well. Hiro couldn't find a door or exit other than the one they just came through. The Asian boy made his way through the garage. "I think the exit's this way," he said. "Come on." They followed him through the cars until they came to the ramp, leading out into the night. They ran gratefully away from the hospital and down the street.

Hiro threw his bag off his shoulder and collapsed against a car, panting. The girl, the man, the other boy and Francis did the same. Hiro looked up, his chest rising and falling. "I can't believe I'm not dead. I should be dead." He gasped for breath.

The girl regarded him. Well, at least he knew how to use a gun. And he'd survived this far. The bug thing was impressive, she had to admit. She nodded toward him. "Hey. You okay?" she asked, panting, her hand on her hip.

Hiro looked at her oddly. "Yeah. I'm fine," he wheezed and slumped down.

The girl stuck out her hand. "I'm Vanellope. W-what's your name again?"

"Hiro." He reached out and clamped Vanellope's hand. "Hiro Hamada."

The man stepped forward. "This is Francis, whom I see you've already met, Jordan," he gestured to the Asian boy. The boy nodded, "and I'm Wasabi." the man introduced. "Are there any others with you?"

Hiro nodded. "My brother. He's hurt really bad and he needs help. That's why I was looking in the hospital."

Vanellope bent down and picked up his bag. She looked at it for a minute. "I'm not going to take your stuff," she said finally and offered it back to him. "Sorry…about me yelling and stuff. I…well, you looked like a dope to me."

Hiro took the bag back and gave her an odd look. "Do you think you could help my brother?"

Vanellope nodded. "We have a doctor back at our gang."

"Why—why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? One minute, you're shoving me up against some drawers by my throat, and the next you're offering to help me and my brother," Hiro asked skeptically.

Vanellope looked at her hands. "Um, I was thinking...maybe you and your brother could join us," she admitted. "I mean, our gang."

"Gang?" Hiro asked. "So wait. There are others with you?"

Vanellope nodded. "Yeah. You didn't think you were the only one out here, right? I mean, gadoy," she said sarcastically. "But yeah. There are others with us. So are we going to go find your brother?" she asked and slung her gun on her shoulder.

Hiro led them through the streets, keeping an eye out for any more bugs, but there were no more encounters that night. Hiro let them up the stairs and into their little apartment. "Tadashi? Tadashi, I'm back," Hiro said. "Tadashi?" Hiro shook his brothers shoulder. "Tadashi? Tadashi! Can you hear me? Tadashi! Come on!" Hiro started to panic. "Vanellope, he's unconscious. Vanellope?"

Vanellope came in and looked at him. "This isn't good."

"I know this isn't good!" Hiro yelled, not caring if he woke someone up.

"He needs help. Fast. Help me carry him," Vanellope ordered. She and Hiro worked together to let Tadashi lean over Hiro's shoulder, and he carried him out until he surrendered to let Wasabi hold him. "Wasabi, we need Felix. What's the quickest way back?" Vanellope asked.

Wasabi shifted Tadashi in his arms. "Jeep. It's not far from here. Let's go."