Hiro was pacing- back and forth, ten steps and turn, repeat- across his room, sock-padded feet making muted thumps on the hardwood floor. This type of thing wasn't uncommon, having spent many afternoons mulling over a problem or an idea, but today was different.

Someone had tried to kill him.

Never before had something so impossible happened, even the utter absurdity of Baymax's 'drunken' state unable to lighten the entirety of the situation. It was like it was something out of those soap operas Aunt Cass (and Hiro, though he would never admit it- out loud anyway) watched. Who would want to kill him?

Scratch that. Who would want to steal his tech and kill him?

"Tadashi." He jumped, his feet physically leaving the ground as he spun around; Baymax was staring at Tadashi's side of the room from his charger, fully back to his normal self. How long had he been lost in his thoughts for that to happen?

"Where is Tadashi?" The robot asked innocently, turning his focus from the carefully made bed to Hiro.

Hiro stared back at the robot, confused. Then he straightened himself, realizing that Baymax knew nothing of what had transpired since the night of the showcase, inactive the entire time; it was strange being the one to break the news, always being on the receiving end of it. He swallowed awkwardly, not sure how to phrase it, but, in the end, decided that bluntness was best for this situation. "He's at the hospital."

There was a moment of silence between the two as Baymax processed the information, and then, "I do not understand- nor do I have any record of this information." The robot carefully stepped out of his charging station, teetering to the corner of the bed. "Tadashi was in perfect health. There is no need for a doctor visit, as he is up-to-date with all vaccines set by the Department of Health and does not have a checkup scheduled."

"No, Baymax, you don't- that's not..." Hiro sighed, rubbing his nose. He didn't really didn't need this right now, not after everything that had happened. "There was a fire and... he got hurt. Now he's in the hospital because of it."

Baymax continued to stare at the other side of the room, unacquainted to the fact that it housed thoughts of loss and death and destruction. That it cultivated them until they eventually slunk their way into Hiro's head, caught unaware and vulnerable, too busy longing for a brother who wasn't there and a time where his heart didn't feel like it was being crushed.

Hiro wished he could be like Baymax, oblivious- innocent even. Wished he could detach himself from this memory just as easily as he experienced it- deleting it off his hard drive of a mind, firmly believing he was better off without the pain. Wished he was a machine, existing in a world of wires and calculations that never varied- not like humans, unpredictable in their actions, shining like the sun one minute and then burning like it the next. Wished he couldn't recall every detail of that night; like how the air shimmered from the heat or how bone crushing despair clung to him like ash on skin (brushed off, but never fully gone, seeping into his skin and lingering no matter how hard he scrubbed).

Wish he didn't remember how his feet were glued to the hot asphalt, keeping him in place when all he wanted to do was to move, to run. Run straight into the inferno after his brother (ever faithful), but his legs just wouldn't move.

So, he was left struggling. He would look up as he desperately pulled at his legs, watching with ever rising panic as broad shoulders disappeared behind smoke and a hat settled with finality on the ground before him.

No, please,he cried helplessly, not now. His body couldn't betray him now, not after years of running from bullies and fleeing from thugs. Why here and now of all moments?

Something was festering in his chest- something that rose and crawled up his throat, threatening to break from its bonds and flood out of him. Something that was raw in its emotion, both brittle and indomitable.

He had to get in there, after Tadashi- tell him, warn him, be with him (Hamada Bros til the end, right?). The entire thing was going to blow and he needed to get out, because if Tadashi stayed in there he would never come out-

"-I detect an increase in your arterial tension and testosterone production." Baymax stepped in front of him, his form shading him from the light of the flames, a physical barrier between him and the burning building. "You are angry and scared, yet I cannot find the external factor for this reaction."

Hiro blinked away his daze, looking at the robot that was so out of place in this moment of panic. Strangers with blurred faces raced past, quickly disappearing as if they were never there to begin with, ignoring Baymax just as they ignored him. How could they fail to notice the lack of color on a canvas soaked in red?

"Are you feeling unwell?" Like flipping a switch, the fire was gone and he was back in his bedroom, flames replaced by walls and the heat paving way for the cool temperature Aunt Cass preferred in the house. His clothes were lying around him in its usual mess and Baymax was staring patiently at him. "Hiro?"

Hiro pressed his palms to his eye sockets, shaking the sudden headache away. He swallowed the strange lump in his throat, his voice coming out shaky for some reason. "Nothing. I'm fine- completely fine."

"The brain activity in your medial prefrontal cortex predates acute stress, which can cause negative, psychological, long term effects." Without any indication, Baymax's chest lit up, Tadashi's face appearing and smiling down at Hiro. "Shall I call Tadashi so that you may talk out your true feelings? It may clear up any unwanted stress that is currently ailing you."

"What? No, don't call him! I don't need to talk to him! Everything's fine!" Tripping over his own feet, he hastily patted the robot's belly, hoping to turn off the screen. He swiped and hit even more furiously when the faces of his friends popped up beside Tadashi's. "And don't call them either! Don't call anyone!"

The faces popped out of existence at his request, much to his surprise and relief. Hiro let out a breath, taking a step back and looking up to meet the nursebot's steady gaze.

"Baymax, nothing's wrong," he said again, hoping the robot would listen and drop the subject entirely. And for a moment, Hiro almost believed it- that is, until Baymax spoke.

"Hypothesis: you are refraining from seeing Tadashi because you are scared." The robot raised a hand, pointing his index finger up like any teacher would when giving the correct answer. "It is common for individuals, especially those who have experienced the loss or near loss of a loved one, to experience fear of the replication of a traumatic situation."

"Scared? I'm not scared!" Hiro told the robot hotly, small hands balling into fists. "And I didn't lose- Tadashi isn't dead!"

Baymax ignored the boy's blundering, reaching out toward him. "It is okay to cry."

Hiro backed up, his knees hitting his bed, and fended off the big arms trying to trap him. "No, no, no- stop it. No hugging. I don't need to cry and I'm definitely not scared."

The robot stopped his advances, "You do not require my care?"

Hiro felt almost guilt at the question despite the indifferent tone it had been asked in. However, it was soon replaced with annoyance at the robot's next words.

"-because based on the data I have acquired, it is my assumption that you have not yet dealt with the trauma-"

"I'm not traumatized!"

"My scans show differently." Baymax stated, matter of factly.

At this point, Hiro didn't know if he preferred Baymax's 'drunken' state or his normal one, not liking being probed with questions and sassed (which, honestly, was absurd because Baymax couldn't detect sarcasm even if his scanner was working at full capacity) when he didn't answer. He had more important matters to deal with than his emotional state (which was completely fine- he was fine). He sighed, "Look, everything's messed up right now and I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. I'll deal with my 'trauma' after, but the man in the mask is top priority. Got it?"

"I see." The robot's eyes clicked at they blinked, Baymax going still for a moment. Hiro desperately wanted to ask his brother why he added that feature because it was starting to get to him; it made Baymax less of a robot and more... human. "When he is released from the hospital, Tadashi may give some insight to the situation."

"Yeah right," Hiro shook his head, snorting despite the situation. "If Tadashi finds out he's going to kill me. I mean, I haven't gone to SFIT since the showcase, I almost lost you, I went to one of the worst parts of town, and I was almost killed by a crazy masked man." He counted the four strikes against him on his hand, thinking that even the small details wouldn't be in his favor either. "I'll be dead before we solve this if Tadashi's finds out."

"As it is detrimental to your health, the probability of Tadashi killing you is nonexistent. Statistics show that siblings-"

"No, it was an expression- an exaggeration." Hiro explained, suddenly tired. "I know Tadashi won't actually kill me. It just means that he'll be really angry with me when he finally comes back home."

"And when is he scheduled to be released from the hospital's care?" The robot inquired.

Hiro's eyes slid to the floor, unsure. "I... I don't know..."

"With proper treatment, he shall make a speedy recovery and should be discharged accordingly," the robot intoned, more confident than any doctor or nurse Hiro had spoken to. Hiro looked up, hopeful in a way that only a child could, and offered a small smile. The robot took a few steps forward, away from his charger, and peered down at Hiro. "I am sorry about the fire."

There was small twitch in his chest at the apology, so straightforward and sincere in the way that Baymax only could- not at all like the grownups who ushered him quiet with baby talk and transparent words. Hiro found that, unlike those times, he actually appreciated it. "It's not your fault, it was an accident-"

The words stopped as, like the explosion that created the universe (spontaneous and loud), he finally connected the dots.

The man in the mask had started the fire.

Hiro suddenly found that he couldn't breathe all too well. One moment everything was fine, the next his breath was cut short, leaving him gasping, unable to stop. Control was no longer his, there being nothing he could do to regain it back; his body became heated, his heart beating so fast he thought it would explode right out of his chest, and his mind was whirling, attempting to keep the calm (and desperately failing) while it tried to figure out what about the situation made sense.

Not again. He didn't have time for this.

He became dizzy, rapidly blinking away the masks that had suddenly materialized in his room. All of them variations the kabuki mask that haunted his waking dreams. Hazy and distorted, they became small demons, reminding him of horrible realizations and they burst into flames.

There's nothing there, he rationalized, it's nothing but my imagination. No ghostly villain was in his room, blood slathered mask staring him down; the attack was gone, no black mass reaching out to snuff out his life, and he was safe. Safe in his room.

But the flames were starting to grow. From the corners of the room did they erupt from, rushing up the walls, following a trail that spelled destruction, to merge with the masks.

God, his chest hurt. Why did his chest hurt?

Smoke, he surmised suddenly. He'd inhaled too much smoke and was finally feeling its effects- yeah, that was it, too much smoke.

Something soft pressed against his back. Hiro jerked back, surprised, about to shove it away when a voice came from the shape.

"You are not well."

And just like that, the smoke dissipated and he was left staring up at the origin of the voice, eyes meeting black pits. He'd forgotten Baymax was even with him, the robot unnaturally silent through his inner struggle.

Taking his silence as an answer, the nursebot shifted, pulling Hiro further into his pudgy belly. "In the current situation, it is counterproductive to inform you of your current state. Instead, I shall advise you to calm your heart rate. You have multiple, viable ways to do so: controlling your oxygen intake, meditation..."

Hiro took a shuddering breath, keeping his focus on the expressionless face before him, and willed himself to relax. He ignored the Kabuki masks decorating his walls and the fire that slowly receded into the floor boards, allowing the monotone voice to go on. His attention was on the words, but taking none of it in; the endless stream of them, nonstop and constant, were pulling him back to reality, wiping away the last of the masks.

Hiro didn't know how long they stayed like that, him in Baymax's embrace, but he soon found that he could breathe normally again. His muscles relaxed and he leaned into Baymax, almost content.

"Physical contact is known to be a positive calming treatment." Not being giving any indication that his advice had been followed and satisfactory care had been given, Baymax's hand came up and awkwardly patted Hiro's head. "There, there. It will be alright."

Hiro considered pushing the robot away, his episode over, but surprisingly found that he didn't want to. The hug was... nice. It wasn't desperate like Aunt Cass' or out of pity from those he got from frequent Lucky Cat customers, but rather, it just was. With others, there was stress and sadness and judgement, something that Baymax offered nothing of. The robot thought it would help him and there was nothing more to it.

That kind of centered concern solely for him was something he hadn't gotten since the fire.

And so, he relaxed and settled his head against Baymax's inflatable form, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He couldn't help the slight curl of his lips when the robot's petting continued, actually starting to enjoy it.

"Thanks, Baymax." The nursebot retracted his arms as Hiro pulled away. "Really."

"You are my patient. I will continue to care for your health as long as I am functioning."

The simple statement had Hiro smiling now, albeit a small one. Despite the robot's exasperating behavior at times, he was starting to warm up to the giant marshmallow. Tadashi had built Baymax and it was reassuring to have something of his brother's nearby, something that didn't involve depressing thoughts.

… and there he was, back to thinking about Tadashi and, to an extent, the masked man.

This time the knowledge that the fire hadn't been an accident didn't paralyze him, but rather, had him questioning. Who was the man behind the mask and why had he started the fire? To steal his microbots? There was the incentive, but what spurred the initial desire?

"We need to catch this guy."

The thought, so abrupt in his mind, came barging through his lips without his say. It was different hearing it aloud, becoming a possible reality as he thought further on it.

"Will apprehending the man in the mask better your health?" Baymax's question brought Hiro back to reality once more that night and he blinked to find himself staring at the familiar baseball cap innocently laying on the bed nearby.

Hiro thought of Tadashi, laying in his hospital bed for days on end, unresponsive. He thought of the burns and scars, of treatment and rehabilitation that would go on for days, weeks, months even. Of Aunt Cass's tired face, the house always becoming too quiet and bringing her usual exuberant personality down. And then he thought back to seeing the man in the mask, using his stolen microbots against him.

The cause of all their troubles- Tadashi's troubles and pains, it all came down to one man.

Hiro found himself getting angry. All too quickly, he felt hot and overwhelmed (not at all like before, but still different), his body wanting to do something- hit something. The earlier sensations from his little episode came back, only it wasn't suffocating, but invigorating. Revenge was due.

Every part of him agreed, his brain rationalizing it and urging him on. Hiro looked Baymax up and down, seeing past the pudgy white material and toward the inner workings. A vision came to mind, one that left Hiro thrumming with excitement; there were the beginnings of an unbeatable fighter bot underneath all that nonthreatening exterior, he just knew it.

So, when the robot repeated his earlier question, Hiro nodded his head and answered, "Definitely. But first, you're going to need some upgrades."

Visiting hours were from eleven in the morning to eight at night on the weekdays, but fluctuated on the weekends. It was a fact that had involuntarily been edged into his brain and biological clock, which were both well-tuned in the habits and expectations of his friends and family.

It was this precise reason that Tadashi felt his lack of visitors so keenly.

His daily dose of life had been cut off, leaving him with only the white walls and dull sound of the muted TV bolted into the wall in front of him. He was left to amuse himself: prolonging conversations with the nurses, sifting through the comics Fred had left him, and, in an act of true desperation, casting shadow puppets against the light the lamp provided.

After ten minutes, Tadashi found himself leaning back into the pillows, groaning. He blindly reached for his phone, needing the distraction that the mindless apps provided; he flickered through his possibilities, opening and exiting them as his mood saw fit, for a good minute. Without thinking, the pad of his finger lightly tapped at the phone icon and he stared blankly at the dial pad when it unfolded itself.

Did he actually want to call someone? What would he even say if he did? Hello, this is Tadashi and I'm lonely, drop whatever you're doing and come entertain me.

Scrolling through his contacts, he skipped over most of them, finding he wanted the company of not an acquaintance, but someone closer.

Hiro was an obvious first choice. A familiar face that would have him breathing easier; his little brother could blow any negative thoughts out of his head with a simple, cheesy joke or disarmingly thoughtful talk of how much he cared for Tadashi.

But, really, his brother rarely, if ever, used his phone, constantly leaving it someplace or another (Aunt Cass had been amusingly exasperated when she found it in one of displays and then, a few hours after returning it, found it once again in the back of the fridge- Tadashi had just been amused). Never the one to go out, unless for illegal bot fights, so the possibility of getting an answer was pretty small.

Incoming call...

Tadashi raised his eyebrows, watching as his phone lit up with a call, an unknown number displayed on his screen. Just as it began, the device in his hand only vibrating once, the call suddenly ended, leaving him confused. It took him only a second to figure out what was happening and who was calling him, wanting to slap himself for his idiocy. The medication must've been getting to him if he couldn't recognize the number he'd given his own robotics project.

But why would Baymax be contacting him?

Confusion led to his imagination conjuring up possible situations where the call could've been made and it eventually led him to groan in exasperation, silently wishing the best for the robot (then again, maybe Baymax would further his parameters after interacting more with his brother). It would be just like Hiro to fool around with Baymax when he wasn't home; his desire for his body to heal faster so that he would be released grew, just so that he could protect the integrity of his robot. Granted, his brother wouldn't do anything too damaging, always the one to follow the Hamada Rules, but that didn't mean the kid wouldn't bring Baymax along for the ride.

Though none of that explained the exact reason for the ended call from the robot in general.

Worry started to form as he thought over the possibilities of what his brother was doing to cause his project to contact him. No, he chided himself, Hiro wouldn't do anything to harm Baymax. But to do something reckless... now that was a different story.

Had he snuck out again without telling anyone? Maybe gotten caught by those who wanted to hurt him? Panic was beginning to settle where the worry gave way, a sense of uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach, gnawing its way up his chest. Whether or not it was a sixth sense or just gained intuition from past experiences, he knew that something was going down with Hiro- a hint of annoyance.

Taking a calming breath, he weighed his options.

He couldn't call Aunt Cass. No, she was probably passed out on the couch from a long day at the cafe, and, lest she find out and eat half the inventory in her distress, he should leave her be. His best option was to call his friends.

Honey Lemon picked up on the first ring, her chipper voice clear despite the late hour, "Tadashi! Hi!"

"Honey," he greeted, lips curving at the girl's infectious tone, "sorry, I know it's late and-"

"It's fine! It's just me and GoGo right now- she says, 'Hi,' by the way!" Tadashi doubted that their friend had in fact said that, but didn't disagree with Honey. "Are you OK? Do you need me to stop by and bring you anything? Would I be allowed? If it's not too late, then I can totally-"

"No, no, it's fine." He laughed, despite his worry. "Actually, I was calling to ask for a favor..." He went on to explain what he was asking her to do, keeping the weird feeling that lurked in his mind to himself.

"Will do. Don't worry, we're on the case!" Even though he couldn't see her, he imagined her putting on her best serious face, a salute to go along with it. "I'll call you when we find him."

And so, when he ended the call, the horrible feeling had lessened, a small wave of relief washing over him. His friends would find his brother, he knew.

"We found him," was the first thing Honey said when Tadashi picked up the phone half an hour later.

"Good," he sighed in relief, before asking, "where are you guys?"

"At the pier."

"I guessed as mu- wait, the pier?" He backtracked, frowning. "Why are you at the pier? What's he doing at the pier?"

"-pubescent mood swings..." He heard his brother trail off, the line familiar.

Honey answered, confused. "Going on a walk with Baymax... who's wearing, well, Gogo said it's carbon-fiber underpants," here, she paused and he could hear his friends questioning his little brother before Honey Lemon spoke again, voice perplexed and a bit amused. "And karate. Baymax said he knows karate."

"Carbon-fiber... underpants...?" Tadashi muttered to himself, confused. What on Earth was Hiro doing that he needed carbon-fiber armor? No, wait, karate? He'd heard Honey right, karate was definitely involved for whatever reason.

"Oh, Hiro, don't shut us out." He could hear Honey tell his brother, voice gentle. "We're all worried, Tadashi especially. How about we-"

"-HOLY MOTHER OF MEGAZON!"

There was a snap of a camera and then everything was abruptly cut off and, to Tadashi's rising horror, screams cut through the line, one so high pitched it made him want to plug his ears.

"GET IN THE CAR!" Gogo's voice cut off Wasabi's girlish screams, demanding and urgent.

There was a scuffle, one filled with many voices trying to be heard.

"Honey, what's happening? Are you alright?" His back left the comfort of the many pillows decorating his bed as he sat up.

"That mask… black suit… We're under attack from a supervillain, people! I mean, how cool is that? I mean, it's scary, obviously, but how cool!" Fred's voice was easy to pinpoint, breathless but the only one out of all of them laced with what could be labeled as excitement. "You know, I've always wanted to be caught in the crossfire, to cheer on the hero once he, or she- either is cool, 'cause I'm an equal opportunity kind of guy- shows up. They always do," he assured everyone and, by extension, Tadashi. "This is as damsel in distress as you can get."

Anything more Fred was going to say was cut off, GoGo screaming at Wasabi, more so than before. There was urging by the others and then Wasabi's frantic, "Why is he trying to kill us? Why are you trying to kill us?"

"What? Someone's trying to kill you?" This was something straight out of Fred's comic books, not to mention out of Tadashi's nightmares.

There was an awkward laugh on the other end. "No, no, no, we're fine. Completely fine. He's not trying to kill us- no one's trying to kill us, Tadashi-"

Fred's voice suddenly rang out, clear as day. "CAR!"

There was a crash so loud that he jerked the phone from his ear in surprise, quickly bringing it back to hear the scratchy sound of the phone hitting something hard.

"He's trying to kill us!" Tadashi sat up straighter at Honey's screech. "Where's my phone?"

Something close to the sound of something rubbing against a microphone came out on Tadashi's end for a few precious seconds, the muffled voices of his friends coming in and out.

"Got it!" There was scuffling, even some bickering that Tadashi couldn't place, and then, "Yo, Tadashi, my man, wish you were here- well, no, I don't, not really. We're dealing with a serious supervillain. Intense stuff. Dangerous stuff."

"Fred, what is going on?" Tadashi demanded before his friend could go on a tangent, put on edge by what he was hearing. The voices in the background didn't help, Honey's pitching up an octave as she switched between demanding her phone back and insisting that Wasabi ignore traffic laws for now. "Is Hiro alright?"

"Yeah, the little man is a-okay. I don't know what's going on, but, let me just tell you, it's super crazy," the comic geek explained to the best of his ability. "Some guy in a mask is chasing us and totally wants us dead."

"Ch-chasing you?" Tadashi raised a hand as if to run it through his hair, but thought otherwise and brought it back down with a tense breath. Then the rest of the sentence caught up with him, the last piece of information sending his mind reeling. Fred continued on, unaware of the freak out he was in the process of prescribing.

"Yeah, I don't know why. Maybe we know too much- I mean, we did see him using the little man's teeny-tiny robots- what's up with that? Thought they went down with the building."

"Hiro's microbots? That's... That's not possible- everything was destroyed in the fire." Even as Tadashi repeated the fact a trickle of doubt entered his mind, threatening to pollute everything.

More yelling ensued, dominating whatever Fred was going to say. Tadashi struggled to figure out what was happening, unable to get anything useful until the noise dropped. "Wasabi just put on his turn signal- so ridiculous, am I right? Wait, it's all good, GoGo took the wheel."

Tadashi knew exactly how GoGo drove and didn't know whether it was for better or worse that she had taken control. Judging by Wasabi's high-pitched screams in the background, drowning everyone else's with precision, Gogo wasn't all that concerned with going by the rules at that point.

But, oh God, what was going on?

"The gnome assassin is going for it. She- ow!" Obviously someone wasn't all that appreciative of Fred's commentary (neither was Tadashi per se, but it was better than being left in the dark). Soon enough, Fred was yelling in surprise, this time because of GoGo's extreme driving.

"Baymax can handle this guy-"

The relief of hearing Hiro's voice was replaced by unadulterated fear as it broke off into a yell. Tadashi screamed his brother's name, right hand trembling and fisting the sheets underneath him with the best of their limited ability.

"Seatbelts save lives." Baymax's voice, distant and almost lost in the sound of wind, spoke up. "Buckle up, every time."

Tadashi unconsciously nodded at the mantra, feeling some sense of closure knowing Baymax was still there, not lost in all the chaos and still able to care for his brother. Still, he asked with his one track mind, "Hiro? What about Hiro? Is he safe? Did anything happen to him? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's buckled in for the ride- maybe I should put my seatbelt on, just in ca- whoa!" Fred swore so loudly that Tadashi would have reprimanded his friend, especially since it was done in Hiro's presence, if the situation wasn't what it was. There wasn't any time for his prim distaste for profanity, especially since any type of conversation was pushed to the side by thundering sounds, like they were in the eye of a tornado. "Uh oh."

Wasabi's wailing sounded like he was right beside Tadashi, "We're not going to make it!" Honey disagreed with him, stubbornly positive, the two battling each other as whatever was happening happened.

Make what? He wanted to desperately ask. But it was useless, his pleas and questions lost in the chaos. He was detached from it all- to far away, too safe in his comfy bed at the hospital- for him to have a say in matters. He was just a bystander- a lone audience member that could not cross the stage and interact with the actors, but, rather, had to settle for sitting quietly in his seat and watch as the show progressed.

"We made it!" There was cheering, but then it morphed into screaming-

-and then nothing.

It was abrupt, so rightly so that it took Tadashi a second to realize what had happened. Lifting it from his ear, he stared at the phone as the prolonged tone rang out, indicating the cut call.

What.

"Alright, Mr. Hamada," a voice floated into the air as the door to his room opened, his nurse making his last checkup of the day, "I know it's late, but let's take a look at that arm of yours before..."

The nurse's smile faded as he took in Tadashi's expression. Or maybe it was because he was now acutely aware of his heartbeat banging in his ribcage, echoed through the machine next to him- yeah, it was definitely that; the beeping was at a sprinting pace, rudely barging in on the silence. The nurse rushed forward, checking his charts and calling for a doctor with a push of a button. "Mr. Hamada? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

All Tadashi's body could do in response was roll his eyes back and faint right on the spot.

His car was at the bottom of the bay.

Someone had tried to kill him and now his car was at the bottom of the bay.

And Fred had a butler.

It was all very hard to take in at once.

"If I wasn't just attacked by a man in a Kabuki mask, I think this would be the weirdest thing I've seen today- but it's not," Wasabi said out loud, trying his hardest to wipe his memory clean of the atrocities that was his friend's room. It was all for naught, the sights of the room still scaring him- all the while, the self-portrait was watching him in its entirety from where it hung on the wall on proud display. He groaned, "My eyes hate my brain for making me see this."

But really, none of that was important (should it have been?).

What was important was the fact that he didn't have a car and he might be dying from hypothermia.

He continued in taking another step into Fred's audacious room, deeper into nerdom than he had ever gone before. When they reached the case of figurines, all shined and posed to immaculate degrees, Wasabi felt the need to lay down. He was going to freeze to death in the man cave of a nerd, he told himself sadly.

Well, at least Baymax was there to be their own, personal heater. The warmth trickling back into his limbs left Wasabi feeling like jello, wanting to leave the entire I-almost-got-murdered-by-guy-in-a-Kabuki-mask behind him. And for a moment, that's what he did. Left it all behind him and allowed himself to relax in the mass of warmth that was Baymax.

But, like all good things, it had to end and end it did.

"Do any of you know what this is?" Hiro asked, holding up his picture for all of them to see. It was a sketchy drawing of, what he thought to be, a sparrow encircled by a simple circle.

"Yes!" Wasabi refrained from face-palming at Fred's observation, "It's a bird!"

Hiro sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, but no. It's the symbol I saw on the tech that was being taken from the dock. None of you recognize it?"

They shook their heads.

Hiro ran a hand through his hair as he retold his experience at the warehouse (didn't the kid know how many hazard violations they could house?). Then there was the startling unveiling of the stolen microbots. But it wasn't the information given that really set Wasabi on edge, but the boy's tone when he mentioned the almost certain possibility of the fire being intentional- nothing was said outright, but it wasn't hard to connect the dots and see the correlation to a certain robotics engineer.

It wasn't until talk of superheroes were brought up (and considered) that Wasabi snapped out of his thoughts, deciding that this had gone on for far too long.

"No! No, we are not doing this! This could get us killed or in some serious danger!" Wasabi cried out, wanting to tear out his hair because, honestly, were they even hearing themselves? "You do understand that people can and will get hurt, right? We don't want another attack like the one with Tadashi at the hospital to happen again. It's just-"

He cut off a moment too late, realizing his mistake.

Hiro stopped pacing. "What?"

A wave a chaos took over the room, sending everyone but Hiro and Baymax into some sort of babbling. Fred and Honey Lemon immediately started to give their explanations for his slip up, talking over the other, while Wasabi himself attempted to agree with one of them, only to halfway merge into the other's story.

"Nothing! I just said that it's dangerous and we shouldn't do it and you can't make me! That's it, nothing else. You know, we should just drop this all together- the plan, this topic, this conversation..." The flow of the burly, young man's speech heightened to previously unknown speeds as he squeaked out his words. He tried and failed to look everywhere except at Hiro, hoping to babble the nervousness away.

"No, you said something else," the boy countered, stepping forward almost menacingly despite the fact that he barely came up to Wasabi's elbow and was less than half his size. "You said something about an attack on Tadashi."

"No I didn't."

GoGo was going to kill him. No doubt about it, she was definitely going to kill him.

Sure enough, when he glanced the Korean's way, she was glaring lasers at him. Her jaw was tense as she chewed her gum and Wasabi swallowed loudly, looking away.

"What are you guys not telling me?" Small as he was, Hiro could sure put on expression so intense and fierce, far different than his brother.

Wasabi shook his head, crossing his arms in front of him. He was not going to be the one to make the situation worse, lest he come back to his lab one day and find it utterly destroyed. The situation in general had been dipping towards chaos and now, with Hiro getting involved, it would surely slip into insanity. "Nuh-uh, there's no way I'm doing this. No way!"

Thankfully, it was Honey who caved (which was a relief, because, honestly, Wasabi could feel his will slipping and didn't know how long he could have held out otherwise), freeing him from the mess.

"It was Tadashi's third night at the hospital..." He heard Honey begin, voice soft and careful as if she was dealing with some of her more unpredictable chemical mixtures. But, having heard the story before and not wanting to worry himself into an early grave with more talk of Tadashi's predicament, Wasabi let his mind drift to less (but still decently important) heart attack inducing thoughts.

Now, how was he supposed to get around town without a car and no reliable transportation?

The bus? Metrorail? Trolley? He shuddered at the thought of setting foot in any one of them. Who knew what kind germs were growing in those kinds of places, practically a birthing ground for the common cold or worse.

"Why would anyone want to hurt Tadashi?" Hiro asked, breaking into Wasabi's thoughts.

"Maybe he's got a second life- one full of crime or, no, wait, as a vigilante!" Fred offered from his seat, sunk deep in a bean bag. "You can make a lot of enemies in your struggle to fight for what you believe in. I can just see it now..."

The comic nerd splayed out his hands, eyes unfocusing as he depicted the strange workings of his mind to them, "Scouring the streets for crime, twin katanas blazing like whoosh, cling, shing! He stands there, expressionless of course, or, hmm, maybe a mask- masks are cool and mysterious... Yeah, let's go with a mask. And he's great at hand-to-hand combat- agile like a cat, strong like an ox and fierce like a rooster, a force no one can take lightly." Fred took a deep breath and kept going, unable to stop. "His enemies go down easy, like wha-bam- out cold. But, before any thanks can be given, he disappears into the night, swallowed by the shadows. And his name?" Here, the young man paused for suspense, before whispering, "Kitsune." He added an echoing effect for good measure.

GoGo slapped her forehead while Wasabi blinked, muttering a small, "Wow, that was actually pretty good." None of it was at all close to reality, but he had to give praise where it was deserved.

"Cool, right?" The blonde asked. "You wanna hear his backstory? 'Cause, let me tell you, it's going to blow your min-"

"Going to back to Tadashi," Honey pointedly butted in before the boy could branch out and start reciting a soliloquy, offering clarity. "GoGo found out and told us. We don't know why, but someone's after him. We're just as confused as you, Hiro."

"Do you have any leads?"

"Fujitas." Here, GoGo growled so animalistic that Wasabi skittered away, frightened that she might just direct all her anger at him. "The man in the mask- everyone on the street's been calling him Yokai- hired them."

"Our main villain," Fred agreed, rubbing his hands together.

Then the conspiracy theories were brought up, courtesy of Fred, all directed at Alistair Krei. The guy acted like the stereotypical greedy businessman, so that was a bit deserved, but even then it was wrong to start pointing fingers and blaming others, without any real proof besides speculation he might add, for supposed arsenic. The man was a millionaire for crying out loud!

And he was a nerd without a car.

"I say we tell Tadashi and the police." Wasabi's opinion was met with a scoff from Gogo, which he answered with a pointed look to let him finish. "I mean, they are equipped for this kind of thing and if I was Tadashi- heck, if I was the one being targeted, I'd want to know what's going on."

"No, no, we can't," Hiro mumbled, biting his thumb. "It's too dangerous to tell Tadashi and the police won't listen to us- won't believe us."

"But-"

"I said no." The boy's words had a finality to it, ending all discussion of his brother; the other's shared a look.

"If we stop Kre-Yokai, then we can stop the attacks." Hiro argued, starting his pacing again. "They have to be connected. There's no way they're both a coincidence."

"But how do we find him?" Gogo asked, running a hand through frizzing hair. "I doubt he's going to be eager to have a heart-to-heart with a bunch of nerds."

"I may be of assistance," voiced Baymax from the midst of them all. The robot had long ago stopped radiating heat and had opted to silently watch them converse. Now, he spoke up, "In terms to my protocol, to provide a quick scan of any individual that comes in my proximity, I have information concerning the mask man."

Hiro perked up immediately, "A scan? Really?"

"Yes. His blood type is AB negative and holds a weight of one hundred and seventy three pounds. Based on fluctuating levels of brain activity I have diagnosed him with acute stress disorder, high risk of cardiovascular disease and emotional instability."

"Emotional instability?" Wasabi repeated, voice cracking. "Did you all hear that? In-sta-bility. You know what that means, right?"

"Borderline personality disorder, also known as emotionally unstable personality disorder - impulsive or borderline type or emotional intensity disorder, is a Cluster B personality disorder." Baymax informed him, screen lighting up to list what was said next. "The essential features include a pattern of impulsivity and instability of behaviors, interpersonal relationships, and self-image; other symptoms usually include intense fears of abandonment, intense anger, and irritability- the reason for which others have difficulty understanding, further alienating the subject at hand."

"Oh my g-" the big man said, fanning himself. "I think I'm going to faint."

While Baymax offered advice to prevent the young man from falling unconscious right then and there, Hiro grabbed one of Fred's figurines, his back to them. "I'll scan the city all at once." The boy looked up, staring at their reflections with a pensive face before turning around, an idea in mind. "And when we find him, we can take the neurotransmitter back and he won't be able to hurt anyone else."

"As of currently, my scanners do not have the capability for a city wide search." The robot told them, offhandedly patting Wasabi's shoulder in comfort.

"Then we'll make them better," Hiro said with certainty. "We'll make them better and deal with this ourselves."

"How are we supposed to do anything?" Wasabi argued, motioning to the others. "We're just nerds!"

"No, but with some upgrades..."

The implication of Hiro's words send a spark of alarm running through Wasabi; he looked to his friends, trying to judge their thoughts. Fred, science enthusiast as he was, was naturally excited and all in favor of anything that might feed his insatiable hungry for anything comic related. Gogo looked doubtful about the decision she would make, but, Wasabi saw, not the actual idea itself. Only Honey looked slightly concerned at the oath they were about to take, teeth worrying her lower lip as she glanced at all of them (but Wasabi lost hope the moment she set her shoulders straight and nodded determinedly).

Then everyone was looking at him, waiting; while Baymax's stare wasn't judgmental and actually calming, Fred was giving puppy dog eyes that were borderline creepy.

"I don't know, Hiro-" He raised his eyebrows when the butler (appearing out of thin air and making Wasabi jump in his seat), offered him a thin stack of papers, manners dictating that he take them. "Uh... what's this?"

"Master Frederick informed me of the unfortunate state of your vehicle. As he requested, I did all I could to find a replacement- all expenses paid, of course."

Wasabi looked back and forth between the butler and the papers disbelievingly, then looked at Fred's grinning face, who was lounging in his plush chair. "What? A new car... where did- when did you..."

Heathcliff stood erect, hands lowered to his sides and face neutral (greatly contradicting with the beaming smugness of Fred just seen over the man's shoulder). "Now, if that is all, I shall prepare some refreshments and finger food for you all." The butler made his exit, four pairs of eyes following him, the door closing with an almost-not-there click behind him.

Fred leaned back, proud of himself (or of his butler). "Wait til you try his sandwiches- they're to die for."

There was a moment where Wasabi just stared, mind blank. Stared at his friends' expectant expressions for a long while, until finally, Gogo nudged him impatiently.

Jerking out of his reverie, Wasabi rubbed a hand down his face and sighed, glancing back down at the papers. "Fine, I'm in, but," he jabbed a finger in the air, making sure most of the emphasis was directed at his beanie wearing friend, "only if you promise that this is a onetime thing."

Surprisingly enough, Fred held his hand up, two fingers pointing to the sky, and said solemnly, "Scouts honor."

Gogo raised an eyebrow as she turned towards him, "Didn't see you as Scout material."

Fred frowned. "A what?"

Wasabi sighed, already regretting his decision. It was going to be a long week.

Powering on...

Sleep mode was turned off, optic lenses turning on and giving live feed instantly. Only two organic forms were detected in the vicinity, the closest currently in the beginning stages REM sleep- approximately ten minutes. Although circulation, respiration, and thermoregulation was at average, the current electrical and chemical activity in the brain was spiking. The other, older and farther away in distance, was in the third stage of Non-REM sleep and contently so.

Night vision was activated immediately, defining shapes of the Hamada household that the shadows otherwise obscured.

Two patients on record: Hiro Hamada and Hiro Hamada (2).

Both diagnoses were on file and brought up and studied carefully. The proper intel and information was downloaded without any problems, symptoms and treatments categorized and filed within his storage; other subcategories were recommended for download and aptly considered before saved.

Hiro Hamada (2) was scheduled for a check-up and an ingestion of medication in four hours, twenty seven minutes and fifty three seconds. He had scheduled a new analysis to be done in three hours' time, setting the command to find correlation between his new information and past scans on hold.

He made his way toward the bed that was taken up, adding a visual for his data. Hiro Hamada rolled over, saying something too soft for his audio receptors to perceive. His health was satisfactory, allowing for a switch in patient priority.

While backing up Baymax made contact with the dresser, papers sliding past his visual feed. An observation was made: the space was more compact than what his initial guess determined. After repeated looks at Hiro, he followed the made out plan, executing a perfect six-point turn.

He rolled over to the doorway and came to an abrupt halt.

Warning: Dangerous obstacle ahead. Proceed with caution.

A total of fourteen steps stood between Baymax and his goal (downstairs).

His internal servers calculated the success rate without aid, taking his wheels and the weight of his charger into account, calculating the angle of incline and deciding that it would be futile to attempt that course of action in his case. The current predicament would only result in the awakening in the entire Hamada household.

A new solution had to be found.

His mechanical mind whirled, procuring a list of possible options. Only two, when properly analyzed and theoretical simulations undergone, were found remotely plausible. The second was chosen in regards of time efficiency.

The top of his case retracted, allowing an opening big enough for his arms to unfold, inflating them only partially with minimal pressure to ensure the lowest volume possible.

Only when they were inflated to a capacity of sixty three percent did Baymax move.

His case was lifted off the floor when his arms straightened to their full length, balancing perfectly when his limbs bent partially and he stepped down the first step.

A quick computation had Baymax adjusting the angle at which his arms bent to a degree of two and a quarter. The adjustment proved correct and made his descent down into the Lucky Cat cafe all the smoother.

He rolled under the half door separating the counter from the rest of the cafe, past the dimly lit display that lacked its normal pastries and the tables that wore upside down chairs like party hats (he would tell Hiro (2) of the description, his patient always finding it strangely amusing). The lone water bottle that stood dejectedly on the window sill was picked up and thrown in a bin. Reduce, reuse and recycle, came the motto from his searches on the Internet, directing him to change course to the blue bin instead of the black.

He stopped before the door, calculating the speed in which he could open it without the bell attached to it ringing. With the number on hand a millisecond later Baymax signaled for his probe to exit the case and turn the lock.

"Mreow?"

Pause.

Oculars turned and regarded the feline that had silently appeared at his side.

Mochi, his database supplied the name of the Hamada house pet. Calico. Male. A Japanese bobtail with approximately five years to its name, his scans indicated.

He rolled towards the door.

Mochi followed.

Baymax stopped, and rotated back to the cat. His probe wiggled as if to say 'no,' before moving once again.

Mochi padded forward.

Baymax stopped.

The calico cat's round eyes were on level with the robot's own, impossibly large and staring curiously at Baymax. That fact alone was how Baymax's surveillance picked up on the slight twitch in the feline's jaw, a certain indicator of the upcoming yowl that would break the silence Baymax had worked so thoroughly to ensure.

A message was sent and received within his system.

"Hairy baby..." His voice modulator sounded out, volume lowered at the appropriate level, as the probe gently stroked the cat's head. A deep rumble erupted from the animal's chest, vibrating in pleasure.

With a final pat Baymax opened the door and silently slipped out of the building- a quick three sixty of his apex showed Mochi watching after him. He waved in return, setting a notice to download more animal care into his database.

Once again on his way, Baymax accessed his GPS and located the tracking device he had slipped onto his patient. A necessary action, one that went beyond the confidentiality and privacy clauses in his protocols, but the pros outweighed the cons in his calculations.

His wheels shifted up and down in their niches of his case to accommodate with the uneven ground that was suddenly beneath him as he traveled from one district to the next.

The Flower Garden, his guidance system provided- the only information given with the coordinates he was receiving.

Search: The Flower Garden.

Two results found.

Result one: Flower Garden, a coming of age novel co-written by Don Hall and Chris Williams. Summary: High school can be tough, especially when you're the new girl…

The reference was saved and filed away for later use.

Result two: The Flower garden, a roller derby rink in the 91407 area. Opened weekdays from 6:00 PM- 3:00 AM and 10:00 PM- 3:00 AM weekends.

Baymax checked the current time.

12:52 am.

He rolled on.

As he made his way through an alleyway, he opted to scan the scarce number of individuals who slunk their way through the night, just as Hiro had asked, setting deletion for those beyond a two day limit. None matched up to the scan of the masked man.

Fifteen minutes from initial departure and Baymax arrived at his destination.

Upon entering the building did Baymax adjust his optics light sensitivity, accounting for the low light as he made his way down the long, unfamiliar hallway. He stopped before a man leaning curiously out of an opening in the wall.

"Hey there," greeted the man. "And what might you be?"

Healthy and of Irish descent, his quick scan determined, the only abnormality being the above average amount of keratin in the individual's dermis and concentrated clusters of melanin along the span of his body.

"Hello, I am Baymax, a personal healthcare companion." He introduced himself, recalling the newly downloaded files on human interaction that needed to be tested. "It is nice weather we are having."

The subtle twitch in facial features indicated amusement, intrigued and recognition, though the later could not be considered concrete without further study, which was proven not possible with the subject at hand and his aptitude for hiding his true thoughts.

"The name's Connor, it's a pleasure to meet you," the man returned the pleasantries, reaching down and accepting the newly inflated hand Baymax was offering. "And yeah, I guess it must be really nice outside."

The robot labeled the interaction as a success.

"I must go now." He informed the man named Connor. "Goodbye."

There was no response, but a single nod. Baymax continued forward, wheels crushing flower petals, and opened the door, closing it shut behind him.

The roller rink was quite vast, especially when compared to the small (efficient) size of Baymax's case. Yet, despite the fact, he made good time in trekking across it, avoiding obstacles and a small amount of people as he did so.

A quiet gurgle of muttering followed him as he made his way toward the large elevator on the other side of the spacious room.

"A lost bot?"

"-real nice paint jo-"

"-it belongs-"

"-onder what it looks like underneath."

"-price, do you think?"

A thin clump of people surround the elevator, watching him as he made his way over. Two women with face paint eyed him curiously from behind colorful fans before abruptly stepping aside, pulling the others along with them. He blinked and inched forward, stopping before the door and searching with his limited vision for the control panel for the machine. Eventually he found it, four and a half feet above him.

"Here, I'll just, ah... get that for you..." The man closest to him, middle aged and well-built, muttered. The robot followed the man's movement, watching as a lever was pulled in an downward motion and the elevator acted accordingly.

"Thank you." Baymax offered a lollipop, previous interactions with patients supporting his positive reinforcement methods. His treat was accepted, albeit hesitatingly (Baymax added the data to existing files on the subject concerning older patients).

Then the elevator's gated doors opened and Baymax wasted no time, rolling into the confined space, turning so that he faced the doorway. "Thank you for your help. Have a nice day."

Then the gates closed and the lift set into motion, rising at a speed of three hundred feet per minute. Baymax determined that the ride would be considered more pleasant if there was a musical component involved- his studies showed that humans enjoyed music and found it soothing, often even therapeutic.

With a groan that had Baymax's interior vibrating, the elevator halted and opened.

Baymax had reached his destination.

It was a room- more of a group of open rooms forming a complex maze of walls and furniture- that looked be an equivalent to a household. He scanned the area, discovering hallways on either sides, leading to more of the home; his scanners led him to the one on the right, which in turn lead him to a small bedroom. Settled in a bed in the far right was his patient, Hiro.

The nursebot wasted no time in rolling over there, ignoring the knocking tempo his wheels made when the trekked along the uneven floorboards. He stopped and positioned his case in the decently sized space between the bed and a turquoise dresser across from it.

The inflation of his body was quick and efficient, happening in a matter of seconds, the vinyl exterior expanding and stretching into a familiar form. His skeletal frame easily took the necessary measure to have him walking up to his patient's side and reaching out to place a chubby hand across his forehead.

A scan was initiated without fail. His inner thermometer took a reading of thirty five celsius- a mild case of hypothermia, his system diagnosed. Symptoms spotted include shivering, tachycardia (increased heart rate) and tachypnea (abnormally high breathing).

Hiro's eyes fluttered momentarily at the touch, as if to wake, but settled a mere second later, slipping back to sleep.

Black optics stared down his form, taking in the fact of the bandages already wrapped around the boy's arms, torso and head. By the folds of the blanket there also seemed to be a brace tied to the length of his left leg.

His patient hadn't adhered his advice, his earlier injuries not fully healed.

"What are you doing here?"

Baymax swiveled his head a clear hundred and thirty-five degrees, observing a woman walking in his direction, holding a pitcher and two mugs. Her body posture was stiff and aggressive, showing hostility. At him, he theorized.

"I am here to check up on my patient," he informed the woman. "I am Baymax, a personal healthcare companion."

"Your-?" She stopped advancing towards him, understanding washing her features. Her eyes, a deep obsidian, flickered to the bed and the body lying there before returning to him. "You're here for the kid."

"Yes," he stated matter of factly before moving on. "I do not have you on any of my files, which leads me to conclude that you know none of my associates or even my patient personally. Who are you?"

The woman blinked, an action he returned readily, before walking slowly forward to place the pitcher carefully on the small table next to the bed and pour herself a drink. She then arranged herself to lean comfortable against the wall, cupping the beverage. "Ren. I own the place."

"Hello, Ren. How did you come to be the caregiver of my charge?"

She choked on the liquid- tea, going by the odors wafting from it, perceived by his olfaction receptors- she was sipping, slamming the cup down and coughing. He made to help her, but she waved a hand at him. "Woah, look pal, I ain't anyone's-"

"Are you medically trained?" He interrupted. "My patient's superficial wounds have been treated- the techniques used indicate it was done by a professional with classical training- and his hypothermia correctly diagnosed."

"No, do I look like I-?" Baymax silently wondered why this woman was looking so harried. "Connor looked him over when he first arrived."

Communication between medical practitioners led to less conflicting diagnoses and more efficient care; Baymax made a note to inquire said man about his techniques, education, and treatment.

"And what series of events led to his current status?" He asked, the information impertinent.

"Couldn't tell 'ya even if I wanted to." She smoothed over her hair before shrugging, the action indicating a noncommittal answer. "Haven't found the time to ask- he's been asleep since my girls dragged his sorry butt here two nights ago. I figured he'd wake in a day or two, though that doesn't seem to be happening any time soon."

"I see." Both his patients were asleep, it seemed.

The nursebot set to work, tottering back to his case and pulling out a syringe, two bottles, fresh gauze and a carefully folded electric blanket.

He offered the blanket to the woman, silent, but knowing she would understand. And in turn, she did, accepting the soft thing and placing it over Hiro, tucking the sides under the boy's body with efficiency. Shen then watched as he carefully transported the liquid medication from the one bottle into the syringe, offering not so much as a twitch when the needle penetrated skin.

Baymax repeated the procedure again with the second bottle before redressing the wounds. Spotting was occurring around his right bicep and temple.

It was over and finished within minutes.

He stared at the young Hamada, optic lenses focusing and refocusing.

"I am done." He said out loud, straightening to his full height. He wobbled over to his case, which beeped in confirmation to the signal he sent, the top retracting and the sides opening. Returning his supplies back to their designated places, Baymax prepared himself for deflation.

"What? You're not staying" The woman's voice was alarmed and, when Baymax looked back, was standing awkwardly beside his patient's bedside. "You're leaving him with me?"

"I must return," he told her, stepping into his case. "My absence will be noticed once the sun rises-"

"Well, take him with you!" She stepped closer to him, waving a frantic hand toward the sleeping teenager.

Baymax did not understand. "It is unwise to move a patient once he or she has settled. It would slow recovery and be detrimental to their health. He will be cared better here."

"I don't know how- I mean, I can't-" She seemed to be struggling with something. The robot was about to ask, always ready to offer a nonjudgmental ear, but suddenly her shoulders slumped and her head bowed in defeat. "Ugh, I can't believe this- nothing's going as smooth as I thought it would."

"There, there..." He did not entirely know the context behind that particular statement, but he pat her shoulder nonetheless, adding the necessary drawl for more comfort. She stiffened at the contact, leading him to withdraw.

Once he stepped onto the pad and aligned himself, he deflated and found himself packed within the confines of his case. He blinked up at the woman innocently.

"I shall return tomorrow, but I require some assistance presently." he intoned before turning away, exiting the room.

She pulled down the lever once he was stationed inside, watching him until the concrete walls obscured his view of her.

Despite the late hour, the number of people in the lower floor had increased. In fact, by the sound of it, a game was in the process; loud cheers erupted at random intervals, urging on the players that raced around the rink.

An outline of the route which held the less obstacles was highlighted on his screen, a simple map that would get him out of the building and back to the Hamada household in record time. He would surely be there before-

"Ow! That hurt!" He stopped, turning toward the sound of distress. Approximately ten feet away, within the roller rink, an adolescent had fallen on the ground. "No fair! You have an advantage!"

Protocol had him rolling away from the door and cutting through the rink to the potential patient; the adolescent, as well as those around, caught sight of him and watched as he paraded across the rink and came at a stop in front of them. Any chance of the junior game going back to schedule was discarded as all attention focused on the robot.

He inflated for a second time that night and followed through with the programs encoded in him. He was, after all, a healthcare companion.

"Hello, I am Baymax..."

A/N: This is one of the longer chapters… but, also, one that was really fun to write (when not being slaved over). And, ah yes, the Fujitas- they'll have a bigger role coming up in the next few chapters, which should be exciting, right?