Notes: Colección of One-Shots is a collection of one-shots starring Miguel Rivera aged up to 21. Some chapters will be rough ideas, summaries, or unfinished short stories. Might have one-sided slash and kidnapping. RATING MAY GO UP.
Summary: Miguel finds himself lost in San Fransokyo in search of his apartment. It's hard to ignore the temptation to ask the wandering spirits for directions, but he can't reveal his curse again. Luckily, one of the locals takes pity and directs him. Both are surprised to learn that Miguel is Hiro's new tenant. Miguel hopes they'll get along well enough, but when he asks about the photos of a young man, he learns that the man died years ago. But that can't be right, because when he checks the Land of the Dead in his dreams, Tadashi isn't there.
WARNING: Disturbing themes, violence, and blood.
Ch.4 – Puzzling Pieces Part 3
Lampposts lit the pier. Miguel tapped his foot as he waited. Minutes dragged on but he was early and Tadashi still had plenty of time to appear. He bit his lip and wrung his wrists. Faint yells echoed on the otherwise quiet pier and engines revved in the distance. The superhero team were fighting villains tonight, but they weren't anywhere near pier 25 or the café, thankfully.
A figure slunk out of the shadows to reveal a man with a baseball cap tilted low on his head. The stranger held a plastic bag from some grocery store. As he neared a burn scar along his neck became visible.
Miguel exhaled. "You came."
"My brother needs me." Tadashi responded, tone curt. "But I need equipment to make something. C'mon, the garage should still have what I need."
"Garage?" Miguel peeked at the contents of the plastic bag as the older man took the lead. "What're those?"
"Good luck charms." Tadashi shushed him. "Now quiet, we can't afford to be seen right now."
He shrank a little and fiddled with a loose strand on his hoodie. They continued along a familiar route to the café and snuck into the garage. Once there, Miguel flicked on the light switch while Tadashi closed the garage door. But, when the Hamada pivoted to inspect the space, he halted.
Miguel started to ask what was wrong. When he saw Tadashi's expression, he silently closed his mouth.
Tadashi stood rigidly by the garage door. His face was ashen and his lips were tightly pressed together. Shoulders rose slightly and the older Hamada took a shuddering, deep breath. When he exhaled, his eyes steeled with resolve.
The older Hamada circled the garage with stiff strides before jumping into work. He sat himself at the desktop and typed fast, occasionally checking the machine on the other side of the room, but otherwise remained silent as he worked.
Miguel, realizing he wasn't needed, plopped on the red couch and idly dozed. Every now and again, a subtle buzz filled the room whenever Tadashi used the machine. If Miguel remembered right from one of Hiro's rambles when the guy still spoke to him, the machine was a 3D printer.
Plastic rustled and Miguel jolted when Tadashi finally spoke. "It's done."
Bleary brown eyes examined the…gun? Slowly, his jaw worked through disbelief. "Why. Did you make. A. Gun?"
"Spectral Exterminator." Tadashi corrected. "It's a gun that can kill ghosts."
Miguel pursed his lips and wandered over. "You're not actually gonna…use that, are you?"
"Only if I have to." Tadashi glared. "Better to have something to defend us with than nothing."
Cierto. But he didn't have to like it. Or admit it for that matter but right now they were a team. "Fine…" He hedged. "But don't aim for anything vital, okay?"
"Fine." Tadashi hedged in return.
Just then the garage door creaked. They whipped their focus onto the exit and Miguel acted on instinct. He grabbed Tadashi by the arm and yanked him to fall beside the 3D printer. The Hamada took the cue and curled out of view and Miguel stood a foot or two in front to block any view of the man.
The garage door opened and there stood the resident purple superhero and the giant red one.
"What." The man snapped. "Are you doing here?"
"I could say the same thing!" He squeaked, caught off guard by the sheer anger.
A glance behind the hero made him pale to a sickly hue. A horde of skeletons strode behind Hiro with Ernesto at the lead.
He kicked the bottom of the 3D printer three times. It was the only warning he could come up with before Ernesto sauntered closer. Oddly enough, he looked more solid and less transparent. Less glowy.
The red robot pleasantly stated. "I am sensing abnormal signs of life nearby."
Ernesto took two steps towards the man but Miguel beat him to it. He rammed into the poor guy, knocking him to the ground, and rolled them away from Ernesto as the stranger spluttered curses.
They wrestled and Miguel called out. "A little help here?"
Tadashi launched from his crouched spot and aimed the gun. "Don't. Move. Ghost."
The superhero stiffened above Miguel. Still straddling his chest, the stranger pulled off his helmet. "Ta…Tadashi?"
Baffled, Miguel gaped. Things clicked into place. Why else would a superhero unrelated to Tadashi care that he was dead? Why else would Hiro act so cold towards him after he asked the superheroes for help? No wonder he was so dodgy about the idea of meeting Big Hero 6.
Hiro was the purple team member.
Harsh cackling shocked him out of his stupor. "Regular bullets can't hurt me."
"They aren't regular bullets." Tadashi snarled. "I've added spectral enhancements. You've heard of ghost repellents, haven't you?"
Ernesto halted and Tadashi cocked the gun. Miguel whipped his head, nearly cracking his neck. The older Hamada had the gun aimed right between Ernesto's eyes.
"¿Eres estúpido? Don't shoot him!" Miguel shoved Hiro to the ground and tackled Tadashi.
"He's trying to kill my brother!" Tadashi protested and they wrestled with the gun.
"We'll be no better than him if you kill him!" He argued and jammed an elbow into Tadashi's gut before sending the gun skittering away.
Right towards Ernesto.
Paling fast, he scrambled to his feet and Ernesto took the chance to grab the nearby gun and aim.
They froze and Miguel swallowed. "That...that's only a gun that can hurt spirits, right?"
Tadashi flinched beside him. "And people."
Hiro, apparently shaken out of his own stupor as what had to be Baymax in a red suit stood over him, interjected. "Am I the only one seeing my dead brother suddenly alive and a skeleton flickering in and out of sight in my garage?"
Miguel shot him a glare. Not the time! Footsteps clicked and he faced forward just as a punch sailed into his stomach. He curled around the fist and was swept over a broad shoulder. He groaned as the man retreated with a heated shout at his minions.
Skeletons surged forwards. Battle cries filled the air as footsteps pounded the pavement with fists at the ready. The Hamadas yelled as they were swarmed and Ernesto escaped with him as the prize.
~oOo~
His back smacked against the stone wall. He groaned as cold seeped through his clothes and his arms burned as they pushed against the stone flooring. He had just managed to prop himself onto his elbows when a skeletal hand grabbed his shirt collar and hauled him into the air.
"De La Cruz." Miguel glared despite the way fear churned in his stomach and his legs dangled in the air.
The skeleton said nothing as he hauled him to a corner of the warehouse. One of Ernesto's lackeys that had previously followed them closely strode away before returning with a manacles. Ernesto dumped him to the floor and the lackey took the chance to grab his ankle and shackle it to the nearby pipe.
Fear made him fumble for words but what could he say? Would Ernesto kill him as revenge? Wasn't his plan to kill Hiro and force him to watch? Or did he see a chance to take him first before kidnapping Hiro? Oh dios mío. Maybe Tadashi's gun wasn't such a bad idea after all. He didn't want to die. He really didn't want to die. But…
Did they have to kill a murderer to survive?
Another minion appeared and gave Ernesto a knife. Miguel swallowed and cowered as the man who once tried to kill him years ago towered over him once more.
"Where to strike first?" Ernesto mused and flicked a dark gaze over his shaking form. "I want to make you suffer the way you made me suffer."
"You…" his teeth chattered as the cold numbed his skin. "You chose to murder papá Héctor, I only–"
"Where's the bowl?" De La Cruz snapped over him. "Luciana, get me that damn bowl!"
A female skeleton curved around a pillar and hustled with a ceramic bowl in hand. Miguel watched, stupefied. Why did they need a bowl? What exactly did they have planned?
"Why…?" He trailed off as a sinister gleam glinted in brown eyes.
"Tell me, niño, what does someone need to be alive?"
His heart hammered and he didn't reply. Ernesto crouched over him.
"You could say the heart, maybe," The skeleton pressed a palm to his chest and smirked. "Or you could say the brain." The flat of the knife pressed against his temple. "If both are cut off then you're dead, cierto."
Miguel tried not to breathe as the blade gently trailed down his cheek. "But, niño, only the living have…"
The knife slashed the spot above his elbow and he screamed as the wound burned. Ernesto shuffled back and sneered with a waiting hand extended beside him.
"Blood."
Red liquid pooled down his arm and the sadist took the bowl from the woman and placed it beneath his elbow. Miguel writhed as Ernesto kept his wrist pinned to his shoulder, allowing the blood to move faster and more precisely into the waiting bowl. Veins pulsed as he kicked and screamed but the skeleton was bigger and heavier than him, keeping him pinned by sheer weight alone.
When his struggled stilled and his head lightened, the bowl was nearly full and Ernesto released him. He slouched against the corner and blinked sluggishly as blackness spotted across his vision. A rough texture wrapped tightly against the fresh cut and he could only manage a pained grumble.
"Can't have you dying on me." The sneering face neared. "You need to watch me take the life of your friend, after all. After that, I'll keep you alive...as my slave."
Miguel slurred nonsense and fainted.
~oOo~
The next morning, Miguel woke to the sounds of a faint scuffle. His head lolled on his shoulders as he blearily looked towards where he guessed the noise came from, but couldn't see anything beyond the large crates and pillars. Coldness kept his mind fuzzily aware when a skeleton or two appeared and stood in front him. Like guards. He giggled. Skeleton guards. Skeleguards. Skel-o-guard-o-s. He giggled again.
Bones snapped in front of his face and his gaze dragged up to meet dark brown. "Wha'cha wan'?" He drawled. Absently, he was aware that familiar face in front of him looked…wrong somehow. "I waz sleepin'. Don' ya' kno' it's rude to wake sumone up?" Giggles erupted. "I need my booty sleep."
The skeleton scowled and, again, something looked off but the man turned before he could realize why. "Unlock it. We need to leave before they find him."
Keys jingled and a skeleguard knelt by his ankle. The manacles clicked and fell off his ankle. The skeleguard hauled him over a shoulder and he groaned as his head pulsed.
"No fun…" he mumbled. "Gonna hav' ah headache."
"Tough." The shoulder jostled him as they moved through the warehouse.
He whined. "You're so mean."
"Quiet." Someone shushed him.
Rude. They didn't have to shush him! So, he whined louder. "You're a meanie."
Something slammed open and light shone into the room. He squinted and buried his face against a dangling arm.
"Miguel?" A familiar but garbled voice shouted so he peeked above the reddish whiteish patch on his arm.
Blinded, he moaned. "Turn off the lights, por favor."
"Guys! Miguel's over here!" The same voice called. How nice. They were thinking about him. So bueno. "Baymax, let's cut them off!"
A dark voice cursed and sprinted with him in tow. Groans escaped him as his head ached. Not fun…
Engines revved and something landed nearby. He let himself look just long enough to realize it was a slender purple man and a buff red man. Hidden just behind the giant guy was someone else. They were holding something in their hands. A gun? He didn't know. But then the red man waddled forwards just as a blast echoed. Someone screamed but laughter spilled out of him right until he was roughly ripped off a shoulder and cradled into red arms. If he knew how, he would've lifted a brow.
"Wow," he snorted through a delirious grin. "I'm so popular, everyone wants me."
"Baymax has him!" People shuffled around him. "Guys, let's go!"
Cursing filled the warehouse and his stomach flipped when gravity gave way. He cuddled in the warm hold and hummed. Pre-heated. Bueno. And drifted to sleep.
~oOo~
When he woke up, his head hurt. "Urgh…what hit me?"
He tried to move an arm only to feel it pulse with pain. He flinched and cracked open brown eyes. Fading sunlight let him see he was alone in a familiar room. Kinda familiar. Since when did he sleep on Hiro's bed? At least it smelled nice. He shook his head. As far as he knew, Hiro still hated his guts.
He tried to roll free of the covers only to find himself tangled. Several curses and moments of flailing eventually freed him. The wound on his arm itched and he had to fight the urge to peel the gauze and scratch it.
Horribly disoriented (because what in the world happened while he was unconscious?), Miguel's stomach growled and he wandered down the stairs. Voices filtered into coherency and he hesitated at the top.
Honey Lemon. Wasabi. Fred. GoGo. Baymax, and…Hiro.
He swallowed. The last time he saw any of them, they were ready to chop his head off. Especially Hiro. Would they even want to see him? His eyes widened. And Tadashi? Last he remembered, he was in the garage with the older Hamada when…
"Mierda." He muttered.
Hiro knew. Hiro saw Tadashi and wasn't happy. Tadashi was going to kill Ernesto but was stopped just in time. His heart stopped. Ernesto kidnapped him. Ernesto slashed his arm.
So how did he get here?
He retreated a step and debated making a run for it. Facing the others after being ostracized for so long wasn't high on his to-do list. His brain was fuzzy, his arm hurt, his stomach ached, and he was in no mood for confrontation.
Mind made up, he snuck back upstairs and rifled through a pile of clothes on his side of the room. He grabbed his wallet from the grimy pair of jeans he wore yesterday. Or, at least he hoped the events in the garage was yesterday. Someone had to have changed his pants since then and he didn't want to think about who would've done that. He tiptoed down the steps.
Now for the challenge: sneaking past the second floor undetected. Hopefully none of the inhabitants were waiting on him to wake up. He crouched to the floor and peered around the wall beside the stairs.
Bueno. They were watching the television. He almost crept into sight only to stop when he spotted Tadashi standing off to the side. The man was visibly uncomfortable but speaking quietly with Cass all the same. What happened while he was out? Nerves on fire, he crept to the stairs. No one noticed him and it would've stayed that way had a pleasant, factual voice not spoken.
"Miguel is here."
Wide-eyed, he made a break for it. Startled voices pursued him as he sped down the steps, stuffed on his shoes, and sprinted out the door. The group gave chase, Hiro at the lead, but Miguel skidded around a corner and into the alley before he ducked behind trashcans. The team of scientists ran past his hiding spot and he waited a beat before skulking around the bins.
And nearly screamed.
Tadashi stared flatly at him with Baymax at his side. "Why in the world are you running from them?"
"Long story." He glanced around him. Anxious nerves made him bounce on his feet. The team would realize he was still nearby soon. He had to hurry. "Look, I really can't handle this. Not all of them at once and not right now, at least."
Tadashi paused a beat before he relaxed his stance with a sigh. "I can't stop you, but I can help you." Miguel brightened as Tadashi beckoned him to follow. "I know a place. It's a little hole in the wall but the food is great."
Miguel fell into step beside the older Hamada and they walked in companionable silence. Tadashi sent Baymax home with the request not to reveal their location. Miguel needed space and the team were to respect that. It wasn't until they found an outwardly dingy restaurant and sat down after ordering their food at the counter did he speak.
"It started when I was twelve." The opening thought made no sense, had no context, but Tadashi waited patiently and simply smeared salted butter onto warm bread. "I accidentally broke the picture frame of my great-great-grandmother Imelda with her husband and daughter mamá Coco. In it, my papá Héctor had a guitar."
Tadashi quietly chewed as he sighed. "For generations, my family considered music worse than a crime. But I loved music. I wanted to play so badly that I stole my papá Hector's guitar from De La Cruz's tomb."
"See," he paused when the waitress approached with water in hand. When she left, the words tumbled out of him. "I stole on Día de los Muertos and was cursed. I was dragged to the Land of the Dead. And–and at first thought De La Cruz was my great-great grandpa. He was famous in México for his songs. But those songs were stolen from Héctor."
He inhaled. "Ernesto De La Cruz poisoned Héctor." His breath hitched.
Tadashi nodded, a subtle form of comfort and encouragement to continue.
"I almost died. I was running out of time before the curse would kill me and De La Cruz… De La Cruz, my idol, my role-model…"
"Threw me off a building." He choked on a wheezing sob.
"I was saved by mamá Imelda's alebrije, Pepita, but Héctor almost died too. He was being forgotten and close to the Final Death but when mamá Imelda gave me her blessing and returned me to the Land of the Living, I managed to make mamá Coco remember Héctor…"
Tears trailed down his cheeks. "…and ever since I've been able to visit the Land of the Dead in my dreams. No one ever sees me, and I can see Lost Spirits in the Land of the Living, but…"
Tadashi echoed his thoughts. "But it's like another curse. To see the dead and pretend that you can't to keep them from haunting your living days."
The older Hamada lowered his eyes. "I almost died in the fire years ago."
Miguel took the cue and listened.
"It was scorching hot. I couldn't breathe. Could barely see. It was impossible but someone approached me. But, they looked…wrong somehow. Transparent, in a way."
Tadashi studied the cooling bread. "They were a ghost. They promised to save me, to let me return to the living and I could see my brother, alive and well…for a price."
Miguel silently nibbled his own bread and drank his water.
"So long as I obeyed the ghost, I could stay alive. If I didn't, I'd die. I wasn't thinking clearly, didn't know what I was walking into, but I agreed. Later, Bruce said that our souls were intertwined: if I went against his wishes, my scars would flare as if they were burning all over again."
Tadashi absently picked the seeds off the top of his bread. "It was miserable. I couldn't go anywhere, couldn't do anything on my own without feeling his control."
Shadows weighed by misery darkened his face. "It took me years to earn his trust. Whenever I had the chance, I researched how to kill ghosts. Studied them for weaknesses. I found local shops selling ghost repellants. Found enchanted charms when I did errands. When you came out of nowhere, I took the chance."
"Bruce never would've let me meet you at the pier. But I had charms saved and hidden. I trapped him to the house, but…"
"…he'll break out soon and just might team with Ernesto De La Cruz."
~oOo~
Notes: Thank you to PhoenixWarriorFox88 on FFNet and SalveSiS on AO3 for checking over this chappie! They gave me some editing feedback, as well as comments on how it flowed as a reader.
This chappie is about 6.5 pages single-spaced this time around. I've started working on Part 4, but Spring Classes will begin on Monday so my updates will slow to a crawl. Still, I hope to squeeze in time to write some more and share what I have. I love this story, after all! (At this rate, I outta just post it as a separate story, yeesh)
PhoenixWarriorFox88: Thanks again for your idea and PMing with me! I'll sneak it in somewhere and hopefully soon!
Thank you for reading and leave a review if you'd like!