Title: Alter Pulse
Chapter 1: The First
Author: Kenkaya
Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Sci-fi
Type: Post-movie continuation, Superpowers AU
Rating: Teen, PG-13
Pairing(s): Gogo/Honey Lemon
Summary: The team has barely put Callahan behind bars when a new mystery strikes San Fransokyo. Random civilians begin developing superpowers, and the government seems involved in a bad way. But when certain members of Big Hero 6 start showing signs of power as well, it becomes personal.
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Hiro was the first, though he didn't realize it at the time.
A few weeks had passed since the funeral and a grey dirge lingered, persistent even in the face of bright autumn sun (through window blinds mitigated that annoyance). His mind, usually so sharp and quick, jumping from detail to detail as he analysed- coming to the most outlandish (yet ingenious) conclusions- stood maddeningly still for the first time in his life. His eyes kept trailing towards the empty side of their (his… it was his now) bedroom. Everything: from the neatly folded bedding to the faint scent of dust settling in, the quiet absence of buzzing electrical appliances behind the open screen partition- kept his thoughts stuck on one, singular detail. Tadashi is gone. His brother's favorite black San Fransokyo Ninjas cap stood in stark contrast against the much lighter bedspread, its solitary placement painfully reminiscent of a memorial. Again, his mind screamed. Tadashi is gone.
He tried distraction; it didn't work. A blinking video message notification interrupted his aimless web browsing, filling his monitor with the still, worried faces of his friends (Tadashi's friends) until he clicked play.
"Hey Hiro!"
"We just wanted to check in and see how you were doing."
"Wish you were here, buddy."
"Hiro, if I could have only one superpower right now, it would be the ability to crawl through this camera and give you a big hug."
He shut the computer off before it finished. The screen went black as he stood, gaze drifting towards the crisply folded SFIT letter sitting on his desk, Megabot (angry red face on display) propped up just beside it. Friends, letter, Megabot, solitary baseball cap- everything came back to Tadashi and now he was gone. Hiro closed his eyes against the burning sting behind his lids.
"You're going bot fighting, aren't you?"
"Hey, I'm not giving up on you… shake things up! Look for a new angle!"
"Welcome to Nerd School, nerd."
"Someone has to help!"
Tadashi is gone!
A humming sound (like blood rushing through ears, but less... organic) drummed through his head, blocking out all other senses. Sudden intense heat flashed across his skin then, jolting his entire body (hot… flashback?) and flinging eyes wide open at the shocking (too real… way too real...) sensation. He pitched forward in the immediate wake, hands groping along the desk edge as Hiro caught himself.
Downstairs, the cafe lights flickered. Patrons glanced upwards briefly, curious, while Cass quickly closed the door on the sputtering mini-fridge under the coffee bar. She frowned at her solitary register as it beeped, reboot sequence flashing across the POS screen shortly afterwards.
"Huh? Must of been a power short."
Two floors above her in the attic bedroom, Hiro was hyperventilating: fingers wrapped around the wooden desk edge in a white-knuckled grip as pulsing fluorescent shadows danced across his vision. Brow clammy, he blinked the incandescent afterimages away. I'm in my room… there's no fire… it already happened… Tadashi is gone. He cycled through a couple mantra sets before they dissipated, leaving only the pristine SFIT letter and a slumped Megabot in his immediate field of view. The letter from the showcase. Hesitantly, he reached a shaky hand out towards the envelope. The circular SFIT logo stamped on front shone slightly as the minimal light of his room hit the glossy ink.
"The university called again… they said it's not too late to register."
His aunt's earlier words echoed in the mental silence. The, "like Tadashi would have wanted," had gone unsaid then. Because he died in the fire that night, Hiro thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut once more. If I hadn't tried for a spot at SFIT… if I just stayed away from school, Tadashi would be here to say those things. If it wasn't for this stupid letter…
Brown eyes flew open. Mind made up, he tossed the damned letter (and all Tadashi's hopes for him) into the plastic wastebasket to his left. Everything was better before. Sure, I was putting myself in danger and fighting with Tadashi all the time… but he was here to fight with. He picked Megabot up off the desk. Everything was better before, and, while Hiro could never completely go back to that time, he could at least reclaim part of it.
"Ow! Aaah!"
One of the three magnetic bearing servos that made up Megabot's body disengaged at that moment, landing hard on his bare toes with a metallic clunk. Hiro dropped the rest of the battlebot: hopping one-legged until he fell back against the bed behind him, cradling his throbbing foot as he released a third pained hiss.
Bo… bo… boop!
Another hiss, this one mechanical in nature, came from his brother's side of the room. Hiro turned his head to see Baymax, fully inflated, standing in front of Tadashi's cluttered wall-bookshelf. Sunlight filtered through the window above his brother's old bed, illuminating the bright white vinyl that ballooned around Baymax's carbon fiber skeleton. Both boy and robot regarded each other for several tense seconds, before a quiet whirl indicated the latter's intention to move. Hiro watched as Baymax carefully navigated around the tight corner between bed and shelf, vinyl squeaking loudly with every step, its bulk knocking over a number of books as it squeezed by. Finally, Baymax shuffled sideways through the open screen door, coming to a calculated stop next to Hiro. A pudgy white hand, more reminiscent of marshmallow clusters than a human appendage, raised in stiff greeting.
"Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."
"Uh, hey… B… Baymax! I didn't know you were still," he accentuated his pause with a shrug, "active."
Hiro never realized Baymax, indeed, had not been active.
xxxxxx
The second (Though, initially, they considered him the first) was a tall, brown-haired student in Honey Lemon's lab group.
He manifested shortly after the Portal Incident, on a calm, breezy mid-autumn Thursday. Big Hero 6 was a recognized superteam by then (already named as such by public media); Hiro had found Baymax's original green chip a week prior, clenched tight between the carbon fingers of a red rocket fist, but had yet to finish the new body. Everyone was on campus that day. Even Fred could be found dancing in front of the half-crowded football bleachers, wearing SFIT's green lizard mascot costume.
"Please hurry," Honey Lemon whispered, hitting send on a hasty group message before shoving the pink encased phone (brand new since their dip in the bay ruined her last one) deep down her white coat pocket. She rose from her crouched position to peek over the polished black table she ducked behind earlier, alongside two other students. Now that the team had been notified, her priorities shifted to assessing the situation at hand.
The room was chaos. Broken glass and various colored liquids were splattered across the laminate floor while overturned tables and chairs mapped out a crude blast-radius around one of her classmates. Ivan, Honey regarded the boy with concerned, green eyes. He shared her major ("You're in chemical engineering, too? Awesome! We have all the best solutions, you know!") and was a familiar, friendly face inside the chemistry department. His tall frame was hunched over now, long spidery fingers slipping through short messy curls to clutch white-knuckled at his skull. The entire lab had gone eerily quiet after his volatile outburst, highlighting the loud labored breaths that shook his body. Nothing else dared move.
I left my suit in the Ishioka Lab… Hiro has a lecture... Fred's at a game... Gogo and Wasabi are the only ones done with classes, they'll show up soon, Honey Lemon's gaze darted between Ivan's still form and the nearest exit (to her right) as she thought. I should clear the room before they get here. The fewer civilians endangered the better. Okay, I can do this!
Plan reached, Honey quickly ducked back down- pushing her large, pink-framed glasses more securely up the bridge of her nose. There were seventeen people, professor included, present earlier. The best course of action was probably to start with the closest (the couple sharing her hiding spot) and move from there. Scooting towards the two, she tapped the nearest shoulder.
"Psst! Mimori."
Mimori flinched and whirled around. Honey Lemon lurched back in immediate response to avoid a face-slap, courtesy of the other girl's long dark braid. Mimori clearly didn't feel confident speaking through the tense atmosphere, but her sheepish grimace managed to convey enough apology in the absence of a verbalized one. The student beside her (a short stout boy named Andrew) also turned, startled, at the sharp movement of his companions. From the other side of their table, they could hear Ivan's breath hitch and the surrounding air pressure noticeably shifted. Honey's ears felt close to popping at the sudden change. There was no time to dawdle.
Move, Honey Lemon mouthed with exaggerated jaw movements, hoping to relieve a bit of the pressing sensation behind her eardrums while she was at it. Her hurried gesture towards the nearest cover (an angled, sideways desk) was met by two sets of confused brown eyes. Really? She resisted the urge to sigh, jabbing her pointer finger at the illuminated green exit sign above the lab door and once more towards neighboring debris- slowly mouthing, escape, followed by a soundless repetition of, move.
Dawning comprehension lit Mimori and Andrew's faces just as the table barricades began to vibrate. Now fueled by panic, the three scampered quickly and stealthily towards the exit (not an easy feat in banana yellow heels, but Honey managed). They slipped behind the nearby desk only to find another classmate already hiding there. Perfect, I can get them out as a group. But, before Honey Lemon could reiterate her escape plan, the frenzied energy around them suddenly fell to a still, pin-drop silence.
Que es… ?
A concussive boom threw Honey clean off her feet, sending her sliding across waxed linoleum until a tipped metal stool intercepted her trajectory. Ay! My back! She lay there a moment, blinking spots from her fuzzy vision. Dónde… mis lentes…? Sitting up slowly, she groped along the floor- even as it tilted on her, somehow finding her (thankfully still intact) glasses mere feet away. Now that she had 20/20 vision again, Honey Lemon scanned her surroundings in a basic attempt to reorient herself.
"... urts… it hurts…"
Ivan's words pierced her concentration before she could location any fellow classmates. He remained in the same position as before, still hyperventilating, only he had moved on from squeezing his skull to yanking frantically on his curls. All the while, he whimpered.
"It hurts… stop… just… stop..."
The air thrummed once more. Frozen stiff in morbid fascination, Honey watched Ivan work himself up. A rapid tinkling drew her gaze to a cluster of broken beaker fragments on the floor in front of her, seemingly vibrating along with the intensity of Ivan's breakdown.
"STOP!"
Several shards flew forward then, one skimming Honey Lemon's cheek on it's way to embed in the wall behind her with a horrifying thunk. She ignored the wet, stinging sensation under her left eye: observing as Ivan sunk into himself for a moment, the trembling objects around him stilling amidst the brief calm. Whatever this is, it's reacting to his mood...
"Hurts…"
"It's okay, Ivan!" Honey shouted, switching tactics in light of new information. If I can just calm him down, "everything will be okay, Ivan."
He unfurled himself a bit at her unexpected intervention, meeting another person's eyes for the first time since his episode started. They were bloodshot and dilated: hollow black almost completely overtaking their usual bright blue. His completion practically mirrored used lumpy paste. Clearly, these telekinetic abilities (or so she figured, based on what she gleaned from Fred's numerous comic book ramblings) were wreaking havoc on Ivan's body.
"I… I want it t… to stop," he stuttered, finally managing a complete sentence.
"I know, I know! It will," Honey assured him, cautiously inching forwards on her knees. Movement in her peripheral alerted her to a student making a dash for the exit. Good, they're using me as a distraction, she thought, but didn't dare interrupt her connection with Ivan to see who had. "The pain will go away, I promise... but you need to relax first. Just keep your eyes on me and breath. Breath with me, Ivan. In, out, in, out..."
"O… okay."
He didn't break eye contact, taking in sloppy gulps of air to match her purposefully exaggerated breathing. The looming crackle of tension slackened as seconds ticked on: vibrating equipment and debris gradually stilling with each measured intake. It's working! This is good… very good, Honey Lemon couldn't help smiling then. Ivan's calming down, people are getting out... the way things are going, I probably won't need the back-up after all.
Just her luck, Gogo and Wasabi crashed dramatically through the door at that exact moment.
¡Madre de Dios!
"S… stay back!" Ivan cried, scuttling backwards as their tenuous connection shattered. Prickling goosebumps raced up Honey's arms, followed by vertigo as the ground dropped out from beneath her. She barely had time to think, not again, when the boom hit her eardrums.
She was mid-air, flying, when a pair of lean muscular arms encircled her: shielding her body from the sudden resistance that sent her long blonde hair whipping back. The movement stopped quickly as it started, and Honey Lemon didn't even notice the lack of new pains alongside her previous injuries- brain stuck on the familiar embrace she found herself in. The tough slender arms, the small firm breastplate pressed against her upper back-
"Gotcha."
Looking up, she saw her wide green eyes reflected by a dark purple tinted visor (a new feature the team unanimously agreed upon after deciding to continue the hero gig- hers was orange). As intended, Honey Lemon couldn't really discern the other's facial features through it, but the streamline yellow helmet and gruff voice were all the hints she needed.
"So, what's the deal here?" Gogo asked, supporting Honey as she staggered back to her feet. Wasabi stood in front of them, blue arm blades extended and humming. Any projectiles heading their way were sliced out of the air with single-minded efficiency.
"Ivan… I mean, Ivan Vasilek… he's one of my classmates," Honey Lemon backtracked hastily. Her teammates (with the exception of Hiro) knew Ivan well enough, though openly acknowledging that fact was hardly conducive to their new alter-ego lifestyle. "I was working on my own project so I didn't see exactly what happened at first... but he kind of blew the room apart twice… no, three times with his mind."
"With his mind? Are you serious?!" Wasabi glanced over his armor-clad shoulder to give her what was, she assumed, a skeptical glance. The effect was somewhat lost by the metallic blue visor hiding his eyes.
"That's what it looks like! He says his head hurts, gets upset, and we fly everywhere! I was trying to calm him down just before you guys got here… it seemed to be helping, the intensity of those vibrations were lessening at least..."
"Sorry," Gogo said. Wasabi winced with a sheepish grin, before an incoming office chair drew his attention back to the matter at hand.
"We'll take it from here. But first, I need to get you and the other kids out…"
"No," Honey interrupted Gogo's orders. "Let me handle my classmates, I was before you got here! Go ahead and help Wa… ah, your friend. Don't worry about us."
The armored hero seemed reluctant: her gloved hand moving as if to reach up, but, with a flinch, she retracted the telling action.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah, go on."
Gogo nodded curtly; she slid an extra yellow disc onto her gauntlet and smoothly rolled to Wasabi's side. Honey felt her stomach flip oddly in the wake of their exchange. Unfortunately, she had no time to stop for self-examination just then. Alright! Suited or not, I'm still a member of this team and I've got a job to do.
"Ha! Is that all you've got?!" Wasabi goaded, playing the distraction while Gogo skated into goalie position behind Ivan. They didn't know where every student had hidden- so, Honey guessed, the two heroes probably figured maximizing coverage was the best plan.
Meanwhile, the unsuited hero dashed towards the nearest overturned table, only to find the space empty. Cursing her awful streak of luck, Honey Lemon surveyed the immediate area: catching sight of Mimori alone, huddled against the wall. A red splotch (one that would surely become a nasty bruise) marred nearly the entire right side of her jaw, even so, Honey was more concerned by the way she had curled and cradled her right leg flush to her torso.
"Mimori," she whispered, darting over to kneel in front of her visibly distressed classmate. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here. Can you walk?"
The other girl shook her head, droplets scattered along her lashes as she held back tears.
"My ankle… I think it's broken. Andrew got out earlier with Liu… said they would get help."
Honey wrapped a comforting arm around Mimori's shoulders, "it'll be alright. You'll see, we'll think of some… thing..." her words trailed off as another student vaulted over the table and landed in a clumsy crouch directly in front of them. She recognized the distinctive lab coat, customized with numerous colorful patches, instantly. "Markus," she hissed, waving him over. "Mimori hurt her ankle. Can you help me get her outside?"
"Sure."
Propping Mimori up between them, Honey and Markus reached the open door in surprisingly short order. Once through, she watched Markus lift the girl into a gentle bridal carry before rushing back inside. Four out, that I know of… and a potential thirteen more to go. Okay, that's a start.
She returned just in time to witness Gogo football tackling Ivan, her forceful momentum carrying them both through a broken window pane to the grassy commons below.
"Well… at least we're on the bottom floor," Honey noted as Wasabi leapt after them, swinging his blades in a wide arch to clear space for his much bulkier frame. She stood for a moment, taking in the disaster of a classroom: broken glass strewn across the floor and sticking out of walls, overturned tables and twisted chairs. The digital clock above the door flashed erratically, screen cracked and stuck on the same numbers it displayed during Ivan's first episode. Absently, she dug through her coat pocket to check her phone. Twenty-three minutes. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Several heads popped up from various hiding spots while she decompressed, emerging now that the coast was clear.
Wait... the room is safe now. Honey Lemon felt her gut clench as the changed situation finally registered. It isn't over yet, the danger just moved! She bolted for the door, heels clacking as stealth dropped from a necessity to non-priority. Grabbing the door jamb to brace her sharp pivot, Honey flung herself into the main hallway.
"Don't go outside!" she shouted, racing down the hall. "¡Permanecer en el interior! They moved out! The building's clear! Stay inside!"
Honey breezed past a shell shocked Markus (still holding Mimori) on her way to the building exit. When the door was in sight, she grabbed a random student peeking curiously outside his classroom- an underclassman she didn't recognize.
"Warn everyone… go classroom to classroom make sure they know to stay inside! Blockade exits if you have to! It's dangerous outside right now!"
"O… okay… what's going on?"
"No time," Honey said between panicked breaths. "This is super important! Just make sure everyone stays safe… got it?"
"Sure… got it."
She released him, sprinting the final distance to the heavy double-doors that led outside.
"Hey! What about y…"
The door slammed shut on the underclassman's concerned shout; Honey Lemon didn't look back. I need to help them… however I can. She rounded the chemistry building, following a mental map towards the area her classroom windows faced-
And came across a completely different scene than she anticipated. The fighting was (apparently) over, and two non-descript black vans were parked on the grassy commons, alongside an ambulance. Paramedics had an unconscious Ivan strapped on a gurney: one monitoring his blood pressure, another securing his restraints, while a third checked his pupils with a penlight. How did this happen?
"Sorry, miss, you can't be here."
Honey spun towards the voice, finally noticing the redheaded woman standing off to the side with Gogo and Wasabi. She had a stern expression and no-nonsense posture, further accentuated by the crisp lines of her fitted navy pantsuit.
"It's alright, Agent Morris, this is one of his classmates. She was in the room when it happened," Wasabi vouched.
"I see," Morris' entire demeanor changed then. She approached Honey with a smile, missing how Gogo viciously elbowed Wasabi's stomach behind her back. "Hi, my name is Judy Morris. I work with a special branch of the government."
"Everyone calls me Honey Lemon… the government you said?"
"Yes. I know today must have come as quite a shock to you," she responded, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a cartoon anvil. "If you need any help, someone to talk to, please give us a call."
Honey blinked as a white card was shoved into her hands. Judy Morris' name was printed above a single phone number in stark black Times New Roman; nothing else. She flipped the card over to find the other side blank. Bit odd for a business card.
"What about Ivan? Will he be okay?" she asked.
"We'll take care of him, I'm sure he'll be grateful to hear how worried you are for him," Agent Morris assured, her smile plastic. "Just keep an eye out, and remember, we're here for you if you need us… just give us a call."
Honey stared helplessly as Ivan was loaded into the ambulance and driven off. Suited agents piled into their own vehicles to follow. After they departed, the only signs left were muddy brown tire tracks and the occasional glint of sun off glass shards between blades of glass.
"Sorry about that," Wasabi apologized. "I didn't think she would target you like that."
"Right, you didn't think!" Gogo hissed. "Now you've associated her civilian identity with this!"
"No, it's fine… really! Better than being run off, anyway. I made sure not to give her my real name."
"Still," he sighed. "At least let me run that number she handed you through some databases… see if we can get an idea of who and what they are."
"Sure."
Wasabi pried the card from her loose fingers and headed towards the Ishioka building, leaving the girls alone on the field. Honey couldn't quite suppress the slight blush that rose when she realized.
"Hey," Gogo rolled closer. "How're you holding up?"
"Oh, I'm fine! Just fine! Wondering how my life became a science fiction story all of the sudden, but I guess after superheroes, portals, and everything else- you could actually say that's been all of our lives for the past few weeks…"
"You're bleeding," Gogo pointed out.
"Ah," Honey swiped at the throbbing cut on her cheek, holding her fingers out to see the tips smeared with red blood. "It doesn't really hurt much… it's probably just a shallow cut."
"I don't care, you're bleeding," and though the frown on her face wasn't visible through the face shield, Honey could definitely hear it. "First aid, now."
"Alright, alright… si!" Honey Lemon shrieked in surprise as the much shorter woman frog marched her to the nearest kit, proving her height wasn't much of an advantage at all.
xxxxxx
