Title: Alter Pulse

Chapter 2: Second, Third, and Fourth

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.

xxxxxx

xxxxxx

They encountered the third one as a team, while on patrol.

Hiro flew high above San Fransokyo's streets for the first time on a now fully-functional Baymax. Below him, the others ran, jumped, or rolled between buildings: revelling in being a complete team once more. The city lights were a dizzy neon blur around him: reflecting as colorful streaks off the new red-tinted visor added to his purple helmet.

"Hey Hiro!" Gogo's voice came out clearly through the earpiece installed in his helmet. "You're lagging back there. Need the rest of us to slow down for you?"

"Are you kidding! I'm just warming up!" he shot back, sporting a cocky grin behind his face shield. "Come on, buddy, let's give them a show!"

"Increasing output to thrusters, hold on," Baymax warned in his gentle, comforting monotone. The mechanism revved up with a high-pitched whine, and Hiro's stomach dropped as speed drew the world further into abstract. Wind filtered in through the air vents around his face- not so strong the sting hit his eyes, but enough to feel the rush ghost across his cheeks.

"Show off," Gogo huffed. He glanced downwards to see her keeping pace with him at street level, the bright yellow of her armor a stark contrast against black asphalt.

"Is that a challenge?" he taunted.

"Wouldn't be much of a challenge."

"Ooh, burn," Fred sniggered, reminding the two that they were on a shared channel.

"Come on, guys. The city is not your personal racetrack," Wasabi gave his two-cents. "Can we at least pretend to be responsible here."

"Gotcha, Wasabi my man! After all, with great power comes…"

"I swear Fred, if I hear that quote come out of your mouth one more time…"

Hiro laughed at the team's antics. He had missed this, while he sat on the sidelines re-building his partner; the playful banter, the camaraderie-

"Hiro," Baymax interrupted his happy musings. "My new scanner is picking up a tripped security alarm at a small store closed for business nearby."

"How far?" he asked. The sudden radio silence from his teammates did not unnoticed.

"A left at the next intersection, then four blocks west."

"Well guys, you heard him," Hiro said.

"Yeah! It's go time!" Fred crowed, bounding from rooftop to rooftop until he was even with Hiro and Gogo. Within minutes, the three had reached their destination: a classy little jewelry boutique, complete with scalloped green awning and kanji stenciled in flowing gold calligraphy across the window. Hiro disengaged from Baymax as they landed. Honey Lemon and Wasabi weren't far behind.

"Whoa… looks like our criminal adversary's packing some serious explosives," Fred said with an impressive whistle. And, at an initial glance, he certainly seemed to be stating the obvious. The storefront (with its empty display) had been left intact, but the old-fashioned brick wall facing the neighboring alley was a different story. Crumbling red debris littered the pavement around a hole easily eight feet tall and just as wide. The apparent force from the blast was so powerful, stray pieces of brick had fallen past the sidewalk onto cars parked along the curb.

"I don't know," Gogo hummed after several seconds consideration. "There's no smoke."

"Or smell," Honey piped up. "Doesn't matter what type of incendiary you use, they all have distinct scents… but I'm only getting dust."

"What else could it be?"

"My sensors have picked up a single lifeform approaching."

The entire group quieted. Fluidly, they each moved into their prefered battle stances. A hulking figure (both tall and broad) stepped through the hole then, wearing the stereotypical black ski mask, black clothing, and matching gloves. The only deviation from their 'burglary 101' outfit was a sleeveless shirt that exposed thick, bulging veined biceps to the world.

"Those are some im-pre-ssive muscles," Fred noted.

"Fight now, admire later," Gogo snapped.

The burglar stiffened as he spotted them, hefting a large utility backpack over his shoulders before confronting the colorful superheroes suddenly in his path.

"Wha'dya want?!" he demanded in a rough, gravelly baritone.

"Well, for starters," Hiro began. "How about explaining the massive property damage here? Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that whatever's in the backpack doesn't belong to you."

"What's it to you?" the burglar snarled. "You own the place or something?"

" 'Cause if anyone looks like respectable business owners right now, it's us," Gogo snarked.

"Listen up, evildoer!" Fred called out, projecting his voice admirably through the blue monster mask. "We can either do this the easy way... or the hard way…"

"They always pick the hard way. What's even the point of asking that question?" Wasabi wondered aloud.

"According to my scanner, a police unit is currently en route," Baymax informed them. "Calculated arrival time is: nine minutes, three-point-four seconds."

The burglar's entire posture changed upon hearing that news. Flight took priority over fight as he spun one-eighty and bolted down the alleyway.

"Honey!" Hiro shouted.

"On it," slender fingers were already flying across the keypad of her chemical purse. A whirl, followed by a series of hisses, echoed through the night air- and a bright orange ball popped out of the side chute into Honey Lemon's waiting hand. Not missing a beat, she threw the object at their opponent with pin-point accuracy. It exploded at his feet with a wet whoosh, neon goo bubbling and expanding rapidly until it engulfed his legs up to mid-calf. The sudden loss of momentum tipped his balance, and he flung gloved hands forward to catch himself. A gross squelch sounded as they met the same sticky substance on the ground that encased his feet.

"Nice one, Honey Lemon!" Fred whooped.

"Thanks."

"Arrgh!"

Everyone's attention turned to the burglar at his frustrated cry. The man had ripped his hands free of the trapped gloves and teetered upright, swaying precariously. He twisted in place to glare at them, hazel eyes furrowed behind his ski mask, before lifting his right leg with a strained grunt. The orange goo stretched like taffy as he moved.

"He shouldn't be able to… how… ?" Honey gasped.

"I detect an abnormal bio-electric current along the obturator and sciatic nerves," Baymax said. "His hip and thigh adductors exhibit dangerously high amounts of stress as well. Suggestion: halt current activity. Rest and an increased calorie intake, preferably high in protein, are recommended for recovery."

"Yeah don't think that's gonna happen," Hiro muttered. The burglar's right foot pulled free with a loud snap. Bracing three limbs on now-drying surface, he used the extra leverage to propel himself further.

"We need to knock him out. Baymax, Rocket Fist!"

The robot raised a clenched red fist, turbines revving up with a high-pitched whine. The burglar, having just reached clear pavement, turned back at the low boom as it flew forward. Eyes widened, arm muscles flexed, and veins popped in response. He ducked, but Gogo (their second barrage) was already zooming forward: throw-disk raised.

"Huwah!"

He slammed both fist against the ground, and the road exploded. Asphalt broke apart from the force, buckling upward in uneven chunks while smaller pieces sailed through the air. Gogo spun out to avoid a worse crash, landing with more weight on her shoulder than she intended. Dirt, both grey and brown, billowed outwards in a crude wave as the team stood frozen; gobsmacked.

"He just… with his bare hands... did you guys just see that?!" Wasabi exclaimed.

"I did!"

"That was rhetorical, Fred!"

"Well, that explains the hole in the wall," Honey supplied not-so-helpfully.

"You have suffered a blunt trauma injury to your right shoulder," Baymax stated, approaching Gogo with his shuffling gait.

"Ya think?" she groaned, favoring said shoulder and ignoring Baymax's arm as she picked herself up off the ground.

"Moving is not recommended until the injured appendage has been…"

"Like we have time for that!"

Gogo's outburst, alongside the rapid tap-tap of running footsteps ahead, reminded Hiro of the mission at hand. The stakes had just shot through the ceiling; they needed to stop this super-strong criminal, now.

"Fred," he ordered. "Jump on the roof and follow him from above- keep him on his toes. Honey, can you make anything stronger to trap him?"

"Probably."

"Good, do that. Gogo, I hate to ask this, but do you think you can carry Honey Lemon and circle around in front of him?"

"Sure, I've dealt with worse."

"Don't push yourself," Honey immediately protested. "I'm sure Hiro can think of another way…"

"And I'm telling you I got this," Gogo spat, hoisting a now-flustered teammate over her good shoulder and speeding away before another objection could be raised.

"Okay," Hiro took a deep breath, that's three in formation. "Baymax we're taking to the air. Wasabi, you're with us."

"Of course I am," he sighed, running fingers nervously through his dreadlocks. "What's the plan exactly?"

"We need to knock the guy out before he uses that superpower punch again… or whatever it is," Hiro said, climbing on Baymax's back as he spoke. "If Honey, Gogo, and Fred can distract him long enough, we might be able to get a hit in. Everybody got that?"

Three separate affirmatives echoed through his earpiece.

"Alright," Hiro nodded and turned to Wasabi, still standing off to the side awkwardly. "You ready?"

"For speeding through the air at dangerous heights with no safety precautions? Never," he answered, stepping forward.

Thankfully, super strength didn't translate to super speed. Baymax (Wasabi clinging desperately to his outstretched arms) soon caught up to their adversary. Hiro processed the sight below them: Gogo had already cut the man off with Honey Lemon in tow, the latter releasing a yellow ball while Fred occupied him with a wild stream of fire overhead.

"Heads up!"

Between the flaming threat and Fred's shout from above, the burglar didn't notice Honey's action until the ball splattered into a puddle of sticky yellow gunk at his feet, wider than the last.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" he growled, switching his attention to her just in time to see a purple ball shoot out of her purse into waiting hands. Honey spun around and tossed the new chemical ball further down the alley, where it burst into violet-blue form that grew fast and hardened to an icy finish. His route effectively walled off, the man turned around just as Baymax descended. Wasabi activated his electro-magnetic blades the moment he touched ground. The air around them hummed as hazel eyes darted back and forth, increasingly desperate.

"Hiro," Baymax suddenly spoke up. "My sensors…"

"Not now," he muttered through grit teeth.

Pa-pa-Pop! Pop!

Something whizzed past Wasabi's left ear then, earning a startled yelp from the hero. Several more flew by Hiro in tandem, and he instinctively crouched lower against Baymax for protection.

"N... not... like this," The man whispered. Hiro stretched to peek over Baymax's massive shoulder, his focus immediately zooming in on the three small silver darts protruding from their opponent's exposed bicep.

Those didn't come from any of us.

Whatever drug the burglar had been hit with worked fast: his muscles spasmed uncontrollably, spine already slumping. Within seconds, his knees hit the ground with a wet plop. Eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness.

"Who are you?!"

Hiro ripped his gaze from their fallen adversary at Wasabi's vehement demand. A sleek black van with tinted windows had pulled up behind them, sliding door open to reveal an empty gurney and two suited man inside. Three uniformed individuals wearing filter masks kneeled on the ground directly in front, dart guns still raised.

"My sensors had picked up nine lifeforms approaching us from behind at high speeds," Baymax explained as a flashing cop car pulled in next the van. The alley's completely blocked off on both ends now, Hiro realized.

"Thanks for holding him up for us," a man, previously out of sight, climbed out from the van's passenger side. He looked unremarkably average, a military buzz cut and long grey trench coat being his most distinguishing features. "But we'll take it from here."

"And who are you guys?" Hiro asked suspiciously.

"I could ask you six the same," he responded with raised eyebrow. "But, I figure you'd tell me it's hardly any of my business… so I'll say the same to you. Either way, we're the ones actually authorized to handle this situation, unless you'd like argue the point with them," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the parked police car. The cuff of his coat rode up as he gestured, showing off a green dragon tail tattooed on his forearm.

"Am I the only one getting creepy government cover-up vibes from this?" Wasabi muttered into his mic so only the team could hear.

"Nope," Gogo and Honey Lemon hissed simultaneously.

"Definitely sketch," Fred concurred.

"The police are here, what else can we do?" Hiro whispered before speaking in a louder tone. "Alright then Mr. Secret Agent, we'll leave things to the proper authorities. Baymax, fire thrusters!"

The robot in question lifted off, Wasabi running to grab an extended arm before they were out of reach. Honey had produced a pink ball from her purse and threw it towards the hard, glittering wall she created earlier. Upon impact, a bubbling lavender liquid spread outwards: eating away the icy substance and clearing the alleyway. Gogo hoisted the girl in her arms (though not without a protest of, "your shoulder!") before speeding away. Fred followed the group from the rooftops.

"That van looked like the ones with the ambulance when they took Ivan," Honey's worried voice said over their earpieces.

"I noticed that, too," Gogo pipped up.

"It's definitely something to keep an eye on," Hiro sighed. "But there's nothing we can do now. Whatever else is going on, that guy was still committing a crime and it's not like we're actually part of the police force."

"True," Wasabi said. "But I still don't feel right about… whatever this is."

"Me and you both."

As the Big Hero 6 disappeared into the night, Shen spat at their retreating backs.

"Cheeky brat."

xxxxxx

The next day, a drama student from SFU destroyed a convenience store aisle. News networks streamed the sensational security cam footage all afternoon, cutting off after a couple police officers showed up to lead the seemingly disoriented twenty-some man away-

Xi'an had mentally shut down by the time both officers reached him. He didn't struggle as they guided him cautiously through a backdoor emergency exit, opening onto the alley loading dock behind the store. The line of sleek black vans parked outside barely registered through his confusion.

He didn't understand; Xi'an had just woken up that morning feeling feverish and sore, shivering in bed as throbbing pain shot up and down his arms. Missing school was a clear given. However, much as he desired to curl up in bed for eternity and just die, the medicine cabinet proved to be inadequately stocked when he finally crawled out. Seeing as it was eleven a.m. (and both his roommates were already gone for the day), Xi'an resigned himself to a quick store-run. He pulled a red university hoodie over his sweat-damp undershirt and slipped on his roommate's flip-flops before stepping outside. Normally, the fashion-conscious theater major wouldn't be caught dead wearing this slacker get-up in public, his loose grey sleep pants completing the disheveled look- but he felt too sick to care.

Sadly, his horrible morning would only get worse.

He was standing in the cold and flu aisle, deliberating through a pounding headache on which brand to buy, when an intense flash of heat suddenly raced down his left arm. Xi'an gasped, fingers spasming around the plastic bottle still in his hand. He watched in wide-eyed horror as an eerie purple glow emanated from his skin and the entire bottle, along with its contents, disintegrated into thin air. Nothing was left behind, not even dust.

A tidal wave of consuming fear smashed through the shock soon enough and Xi'an staggered backwards, crashing into the shelves behind him. Another flash of heat, less intense than the first, warned him just before the fixture (and any product that hadn't fallen to floor) evaporated away. Someone screamed nearby, but he didn't run. Xi'an stood there: transfixed by the damage he had done. What just happened here? I just… what happened to me?! His thoughts were all a jumbled mess of disassociation, head pain, and barely restrained hysteria-

"... e safe. Restrain him."

Xi'an's grasp on reality returned with acute clarity at those words. They were spoken by a man in a long grey trench coat, walking briskly towards them. He pulled a pair of sporty wrap-around sunglasses from his pocket and slipped them on, the tail of what appeared to be a green dragon tattoo visible on his arm as the coat cuff rode up. Behind him, the suspicious line of vans idled.

Xi'an felt sharp cold metal against his left wrist before he heard the click of handcuffs locking.

"Hey! What the… what are you doing?!"

"It's just a precaution," Shen answered, no sympathy or comfort in his tone. "Don't take it personally, kid. We'll take care of you."

"I'm sure you will," Xi'an snorted, feeling the now familiar heat rise again. The officer to his left cried out as the handcuffs disintegrated in a wash of purple light. Xi'an didn't waste a precious second this time; he spun around, ducked under an oncoming tackle, and made a mad dash for the street. The sidewalk… if I can just get to a crowd, he thought.

"Idiots!"

A gunshot, followed by an explosive pain across the back of his thigh, sent Xi'an tumbling to the ground. What the… they… they actually shot… ? Shaken, he reached a fumbling hand to check, but felt no blood. Rubber bullets?

"No wonder the police force here is useless," Shen snarled, his voice and the clack-clack of dress heels on asphalt indicating his fast approach. Xi'an moved to rise, but he was stumbling; too slow. A heavy weight and bony knee against his spine subdued him once more.

"Shouldn't have run, kid."

A sharp prick on the side of his neck was the last thing Xi'an felt before the edges of the world went fuzzy.

Later, after each member of Big Hero 6 had seen the incomplete news coverage, they met up at the Lucky Cat Cafe.

"It's weird… that's the third one in less than two weeks," Hiro said, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing Aunt Cass's attention to their corner table.

"Too much for coincidence," Gogo agreed. She downed her double-shot espresso afterward like a pro.

"That's how it works guys," Fred began with his usual comic book sage authority. "Whenever a superhero team shows up, super villains come out of the woodwork to challenge them. It's a change in dynamics! The next phase of our origin story!"

"Keep it down, Fred!" Hiro hushed, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Aunt Cass was still busy at the coffee bar. "Look whatever's going on… it's big. I don't know reasons or cause yet, but everything about it makes me feel… on edge. Something's not right here."

"Well, look on the bright side, at least those creepy 'we're-the-government' agents weren't around this time," Wasabi said.

"That we know of."

There was a murmur of agreement around the table. Even so, as all five human teammates exchanged troubled glances, they recognized how ill-equipped they were to do anything in that moment.

xxxxxx

The insistent bizzt-bizzt of his phone vibrating against wooden desktop woke Hiro up that night. He groaned, rolling over to reach the desk corner near his bed. Object in hand, he blinked at the sudden bright light from his screen and made another noise of protest when adjusted eyes were finally able to make out the caller's I.D. He briefly considered letting the call go to voicemail (out of simple spite) before swiping to answer.

"What is it, Fred?"

"Little dude! So glad you answered!" Fred said, chipper and alert in a way Hiro found absolutely grating at that moment. "Get a load of this! See, I was on a late night donut run…"

"Donut run?" Hiro interrupted. "Fred… it's," he pulled the phone away from his cheek to check the time, "two-thirty in the morning. I was sleeping."

"I know, sorry… but! This is hero stuff! I hate to drag you out of bed… but you and Baymax need to get down here."

"Wait, what?" Hiro flipped his comforter off and sat up straight, fully awake now. "What's going on exactly?"

"Well, I like I told you, I was out getting donuts…"

"Get to the point!"

"Getting there… anyway, on the way home I saw three of those creepy black secret service vans drive past in a row and I told Heathcliff to follow them in our car cause I figured they were up to something… and I was totally right! Another one popped up."

"Already?!" Hiro scrambled out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the floor harder than he anticipated. Good thing Aunt Cass' a heavy sleeper. "That's two in less than twenty-four hours!"

"Yeah, it's getting deeper man… whoa!" Fred whistled as an odd whoosh reverberated from his end. "Looks like they're gonna have a hard time getting close to her, I'd still get here ASAP though… the air's kinda shimmering around her now… could be some kinda energy barrier... or a force field!"

"Okay, contact the others and keep an eye on the situation," Hiro ordered, shrugging on his favorite blue hoodie. "You got your suit on you?"

"Never travel without it, bro."

"Good. Text me your location and suit up. Ow," he ended the call and turned around to watch Baymax re-inflate from his charger by the stairs.

"I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. Hello, Hiro."

"Hey Baymax," the boy grinned. "We've got hero work to do."

Their trip to the garage was rather uneventful, save some strategic tip-toeing past a snoring Aunt Cass: sprawled on the living room couch with Mochi. The blank T.V. screen in front of her glowed a soft neutral blue. Under normal circumstances, Hiro would have taken the quilted throw folded over the couch arm and covered her (it's what Tadashi would've done), but he had no time to waste. When I get back, he promised himself, knowing he didn't have long before she woke. His earlybird aunt always greeted the new day at five on the dot, getting a headstart on baking treats for the pastry case in her cafe. Two hours… maybe. That's all I've got to do this.

The address Fred sent him was close, little more than a five minute flight on Baymax- six, if one wanted to be technical about it. They eased their speed a couple blocks away to avoid alerting the police/government, or, whoever these people are claiming to be now, Hiro mentally scoffed. Looking down, he spotted a silver-grey car parked on the next corner, and immediately recognized the top-heavy monster silhouette standing beside the driver-side door. Gogo leaned against a nearby wall in shadow, though her yellow armor slightly ruined the effect; unsurprisingly, she was the first to meet Fred at the scene.

"Hey, guys. What's the situation?" Hiro spoke through the team's shared channel.

"Hey, Hiro's here to save the day! Well, not much has changed," Fred said, switching effortlessly between levity and seriousness. "Still a stalemate out there... my bet's definitely on force field powers, for sure."

"At least those shouldn't cause too much collateral damage," Hiro muttered. "Alright, I'm going to get an aerial from the roof. Tell me when the others get here and keep me posted on anything you see from your vantagepoint."

"Will do," they both chorused.

Baymax landed smoothly on the corner building's roof, the light crunch of gravel as Hiro disembarked the loudest sound they made. Creeping slowly, he peeked over the low parapet wall to take in the scene below for himself.

Three black vans and one lone police car were idling in semi-circle formation around a hunched woman, trying her damndest to sink through the pale cinder block wall at her back. Her body was swaddled in a long, baggy green coat and her head was bowed, shoulder-length brown hair falling forward to obscure her face. Dotting the makeshift car perimeter, were at least a dozen officials dressed in various degrees of business casual suits. Hiro counted seven visible firearms.

"Calm down, we just want to help, miss," a redheaded woman in a dark pantsuit stepped forward from the line. Huh, looks match the description Honey, Gogo, and Wasabi gave us of that Agent Morris person, Hiro noted. "We can help you."

"Just go away! Leave me alone!" the frightened woman cried, her voice vaguely familiar. A low-end reverb shook the earth and air warped in pulsing curves around her. Agent Morris fell back as spiderweb cracks snaked across the pavement towards her.

"Can't you see you're a danger?!" the agent tried again. "If this is what your abilities do to the street, imagine what they'll do to innocent people just walking by, or your loved ones!"

The woman gasped then, chin snapping up to stare wide-eyed at Morris.

"We can help you control them. Just let us help you..."

Hiro wasn't paying attention to the agent anymore, though. His entire focus was fixed, zeroed in, on the terrified woman's face. He recognized her now. Even shiny with tears, blotchy red, and distorted by altered space- he recognized that face.

"I'm okay… but Professor Callahan's still inside!"

"Hiro, your neurotransmitter levels," Baymax continued to relay his diagnosis, but Hiro didn't (couldn't) register the words. The only thought rattling around in his head, like a dead hamster in a spinning wheel, was, it's her… it's her… it's her...

The woman from the showcase fire.

"Hiro!"

He suddenly found himself pitching forward, a white knuckle grip on the concrete parapet the only thing saving him from a nasty fall. The world narrowed, tunneling on the sight and reality of, it's her. He stood there a moment, trying to catch his panicked breath, when a loud crunch behind him signaled Fred's unwelcome arrival up top.

"Little dude?"

"I'm fine, get back down and cover the ground," Hiro ordered sharply. His entire body felt flushed- hot.

"But, Baymax just said…"

"I don't care what he said! I need cover down there now! Baymax!"

"Hiro, in your condition…"

"Forget that!" he demanded. "Down, now!"

"Hiro! Fred, what's going on up there?!" Gogo's voice snapped through their earpieces.

But the robot had already begun his descent with Hiro in tow. They touched down behind the taskforce and Hiro dropped to the ground, knees wobbling just before they gave out.

"Hey!" Agent Morris shouted. The others had turned their attention to him as well, though they kept their guns trained on the former threat. "You don't belong here. This is a classified matter."

He didn't care what the agents said or did, Hiro only had eyes for the woman sobbing beyond them. A logic seared deep in his being told him it wasn't her fault- that she had been coughing from smoke inhalation and emotional. She couldn't have known how Tadashi would react to her words. Even so, the pain of mourning for weeks, attending his funeral, of watching Tadashi disappear into the burning building overwhelmed reason. He could feel the fire, burning against his skin right there. He braced himself, hands palm down and flat against the street as he focused only on her splotchy, tear-streaked face.

Hot… it's so hot… I don't want to remember this! STOP!

Suddenly, the heat radiating from his skin concentrated, exploding beneath his fingertips. Bolts of white-hot lightning shot in the straight line across asphalt- past startled agents and a livid Morris, piercing the shimmering barrier with ease before striking the showcase woman dead on. She screamed, body convulsing herky-jerky as electricity coursed through her. Neon fluorescent afterimages followed her like a ghost across Hiro's vision, even after she fell unconscious to the ground. The lightning stopped then, and a teeth-clacking cold hit Hiro in its wake. He shuddered.

I just… how did I… ?

A stampede of footsteps indicated his team approaching from behind. Judging by the number when they halted beside him, Honey Lemon and Wasabi had joined them while he was indisposed.

"What was that?!"

For the first time since he left the roof, Hiro turned his attention to Agent Morris. Her red hair was a frazzled halo of disarray, her face pale and lips pressed thin to a colorless state. Yet, even through debilitating shock, he saw past the harried facade to her calculated stare. In his peripheral, several agents had moved to load the woman onto a collapsible gurney, immediately strapping her down with numerous restraints. It suddenly dawned on Hiro exactly how much danger he was in.

"My gauntlets," he said, voice echoing hollow within the confines of his helmet. "They're electroshock weapons. New feature."

"Good to know," she nodded, accepting the lie. "And smart of you, but, while we appreciate your… vigilante enthusiasm, I have to warn you to stay out of our business. This is our job and we know how to do it. Stick to helping the police stop robbers and runaway cable cars."

He nodded mutely, watching with numb detachment as Agent Morris walked away. A slender hand pressed gently on his armored shoulder once she was out of earshot; Hiro turned to face the pink helmet and orange-tinted visor of Honey Lemon. He couldn't be more grateful for the face-obscuring feature right then.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "Fred and Gogo said you freaked out a bit before we got here… and Baymax..."

"Yeah," he whispered. In that instant, everything (the woman, the memories, shady government agents, lightning, and fear) registered simultaneously. He stumbled to his feet. "I… I need to go… now. We'll talk later. Baymax?"

His team was clearly concerned as he climbed on Baymax, bombarding him with multiple variations of, "fly safe" and, "call me when you get home"s. Had he not been busy disassociating just to function, Hiro probably would have found their reaction touching. But, at that moment, the only thought in his mind was escape.

"Hold on."

And they blasted off. Hiro finally felt like he could breath- chill pre-dawn air filtered through the vents around his visor, brushing his cheeks as they flew through the dark, quiet city. Now out of immediate danger, tremors wracked his small body.

"Hiro," Baymax said, thankfully switching to a private channel. "You did not install electroshock weapons in your gauntlets."

"I know, buddy," he answered thickly, letting the frightened tears fall behind his red face shield. "I know."

xxxxxx