Bruises

by Sandfire Kat

Hiro was so much like her. He was stubborn, he was intelligent, he was bright. A spitting replica if not for personality. Could he really be blamed for what he did? He had motives. People always do. But his motives were good ones, surely. For him. For others it was not as much so. For others, this was a living nightmare. One they could not wake up from. One they might not survive.

11. Chapter 11

A/N: An update already!?

I know what you must be thinking. "But Kat! Don't you have other things to do during your weekend!? Don't you have an anatomy test on Thursday to study for!? Don't you have math you could be looking over!? Don't you have more productive things to be doing!?"

The answer to all of those is…of course I do.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Alright, let's try it again," Tadashi encouraged, his eyes a little bit narrowed as he looked over the notes on his laptop. His gaze was creased over in thought; he'd been at it for hours, and he was still running into walls. It was starting to get really late now, but he wasn't planning on leaving until he finally got all of this right. He was so close— it was probably just a little bit more tinkering before things would finally fall into place. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, and hopefully he had just fixed the major issue. But even if that wasn't the case, Tadashi was adamant in staying until the bug was righted.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do, really.

Tadashi spun around in his rolling chair, recovering his grin now. His expression changed from thoughtful and puzzled, to bright and encouraging. He stood up, walking across the room from his desk and giving a nod, and taking in a bracing gulp of air. He leaned out and activated the robot in front of him, seeming a little nervous now as he saw his creation's eyes blink open in reply. He waited, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them still.

He waited.

And sure enough, after a moment's pause, the robot's voice slowly came into being. Tadashi started to brighten, albeit cautiously, as he was careful not to get his hopes up too fast before they were crushed. "Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

Immediately, Tadashi perked and straightened, a smile spreading across his face now as he looked at the round white robot. He'd worked for months upon months on it in order to get it up and running; thinking and focusing was harder and harder to do with each passing day, and the mounting frustration he was feeling in response to this difficulty wasn't really helpful at all. But maybe, just maybe, he'd finally been able to crack the code on his project. "It works…" he mumbled to himself, surprise coming over his face. As his smile grew, he grinned and said to himself, just a little bit louder. "It works."

He grinned, ducking his head and studying the floor for a few moments. Then he shook his head and looked back up, satisfied and content. He kept his hands shoved into his pockets, and he put more weight on one foot, leaning to the side a bit. He grinned at the robot, who blinked slowly back in reply. Apparently that worked, then, too. Blinking was vital— a patient would already be nervous enough being treated by a machine. Their fear would only be multiplied if that machine just stared at them emptily for hours on end.

"Alright, let's see here…" Tadashi murmured, a smile keeping his expression light as he looked eagerly up at the robot. Baymax had been his project for who knew how long, now. It was about time he was starting to see some results. It probably would have been much faster if…well, if he had just been able to focus on something other than…other than the fact that… "Go ahead and try to scan me." He lifted out his hands now only to spread his arms out at his sides, making it easier for the robot to do so.

Baymax blinked again, as if to confirm the fact that he could. The robot stared at Tadashi, and a moment of silence was set to follow the request. Tadashi waited, giving him enough time to follow through. After a while, Tadashi was worried that there might be some other issue that was keeping him from being able to scan. But no sooner did the thought cross his mind did Baymax reply. "Your neurotransmitters are slightly lower than normal," he said.

Tadashi blinked, a little bit surprised as his smile faded gradually.

The robot went on. "This indicates that you are sad," he stated.

He hadn't…well, he hadn't expected that. His face fell, and here was a blanching space of silence as he tried to regather himself. Eventually he did, and he offered a small laugh that came out a shade tinny and small. "I'm not— I'm not sad, buddy," he objected. "I'm happy! You're finally working! I'm ecstatic!" He sighed through his nose, turning and glancing back over at his laptop when Baymax made no move to correct himself. Tadashi's expression was noticeably wearier now, and he mumbled to himself: "There must be some other problem…" Baymax still just stared at him. "Maybe…maybe I can find some more time and figure out what's wrong…"

There was a small knock on the door that prevented Tadashi from delving back into his notes. It kept him from trying to find whatever flaw he was certain was hiding somewhere. Instead, Tadashi turned towards the door of his lab, looking surprised and caught off-guard. But quickly, he recovered himself, and his smile came back in a rush. "Professor Callaghan!" he greeted warmly, the instructor currently standing in the doorway of the room. "W-What a surprise!"

Professor Callaghan grinned, surveying Tadashi with a friendly gaze. "I could say the same in respects to you, Mister Hamada," he returned, taking a few slow steps forward as he entered the workstation. "From what I understand, you've been hard at working hard. You've been in from eight in the morning to four in the evening every day for the past week." Tadashi sobered a little bit, but he didn't say anything or interrupt. Callaghan tilted his head and studied him. "I would think a boy like you, with the friends you've got…would have something better to do during your summer vacation."

Tadashi grinned, but it came out a little pinched. "I don't mind hard work," he said, knowing that it didn't really offer any sort of good answer to what his teacher was probably getting at. "I like it." He turned and looked over at Baymax with a sense of approval. "I've finally got Baymax up and running. It's a good thing I took the hours to work. Although…I don't know…I think I might have to upgrade his scanner." The words passed his lips, and he stiffened a little bit, as if something was awry. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, looking almost confused. As if he'd thought of something.

But he pushed it away quickly and shook his head. He turned back to the professor, finding that he was suddenly being very rude and spacing off. "Well, I'd figure you'd have better things to do than come down here too," Tadashi said, trying to follow his attempts to tease and joke. "So what can I help you with, Professor Callaghan?"

The professor shook his head with a smile. "I just came to check up on one of my brightest students," he said fairly. "I was contacted and told that you were spending quite a lot of time here recently. I came to see what you were working on."

Tadashi seemed a little confused at this. He'd signed in and out of working, of course— that was required if you wanted to use the lab, especially during times when you did not have school. But Tadashi didn't think that the person in charge of monitoring these comings and goings would approach Callaghan. They never had before, after all. But he realized slowly that he'd never really spent as much time here during breaks as he was now. He must just not know how it all worked. So he switched to clear his throat. He grinned, stepping to the side and gesturing over to Baymax, who had been watching the two interact in silence.

Callaghan perked at the wordless invitation. He crossed the room and looked over Baymax, his eyes sparking in thought and an intense amount of interest. He folded his arms across his chest, and he circled the robot, looking at him from all angles. His voice was careful when he spoke next. "This is the medical robot you told me about, then?" he asked. When Tadashi smiled and nodded, he did the same, his expression turning approving now. "I've been meaning to look in on the progress you've been making on it. It seems rather impressive."

Tadashi warmed underneath the praise. "Thank you, sir," he said, turning earnest now. He padded after the older man, keeping up with him and not planning to drop back any time soon. "He's programmed with over ten thousand medical procedures. He should be well-versed in all things caretaking. But then again, we're still just starting out by the introductions. I haven't moved on to testing any actual treatment. I was going to try and get to that tomorrow. But…he might still be a little flawed in his scanner."

"Hmm…" Callaghan seemed thoughtful now. He stopped, reaching up and rubbing his chin with a dubious gaze. He looked Baymax up and down, and the robot did the same to him. "Over ten thousand medical procedures?" he repeated, and Tadashi nodded again. "And you haven't started testing him physically on it?"

"Well…no, no, not yet," Tadashi mumbled. But before he could let his teacher down, he said hastily: "I did start testing his scanner, though. It seemed like there might be a minor flaw in it…maybe…but…" He felt his face grow hot. He was acutely aware of the fact that Professor Callaghan had come all the way over here just to see how he was doing. That, or he had a few other students around, though it had been pretty quiet whenever Tadashi was stationed. The last thing he wanted to do was let down the one man that he looked up to and regarded so highly. So he turned and looked at Baymax encouragingly. "Baymax, go ahead and try to scan him."

Callaghan straightened at the change. He started to say something, when Baymax went ahead to take initiative instead. He looked over the man standing in front of him and spoke once he was finished drawing his conclusions. Tadashi watched, his expression riddled in tension as he crossed his fingers behind his back. Sure enough, he let out a little bit of a sigh when Baymax began to spurt his facts, just as he had been programmed to do. "According to my sensors, your blood type is AB negative. You weigh approximately 178 pounds. Your heartrate is elevated far above normal levels."

Callaghan was silent for a moment, just staring at the creation almost blankly. But then he pulled back, turning to Tadashi with a laugh. "Well, that's quite impressive," he exclaimed, Tadashi beaming at once from the small compliment. "Though I'm not surprised, Tadashi. I would expect nothing less than perfection from you."

A niggling part of Tadashi's mind brought up the fact that because of this, there was no other alternative than to understand that what Baymax had said before in respect to him was complete truth. But he refused to let his mind linger, knowing that such a thing would only make the situation all the more worse. He just focused on what Professor Callaghan was saying, as the instructor proceeded. "It seems to be coming along very nicely. I'll be interested to see where it goes from here once you put more work into it." He turned and glanced over at the boy, looking thoughtful. "He does retain the knowledge, then? Of the medical programs?" he asked.

"He should, sir, yes. I haven't tested his ability to recite them, and I haven't tested his ability to follow through, but…technically he does have his memory chip in," he said, a bit of his nerves coming back as he looked from Baymax to Callaghan. There was a long pause, and Tadashi offered a little weakly: "You could try and test him really quick…if you'd like. He could respond to questions, most likely. I don't think he's far enough along to actually mimic the actions he would take with it. And…well, it'd be kind of pointless, too…"

Callaghan glanced at him, his gaze expectant.

Tadashi cleared his throat and took the initiative. "Baymax." Baymax turned at once to look at him, the robot tilting his head to the side. The signal was meant to show that he was listening attentively to what was being told to him. That was a good installment as well for the patient to experience. A patient wanted nothing more than to be heard and to be understood. It was why Tadashi had programmed in the habit. He offered his project a small smile, silently trying to encourage him. "What do you do if someone faints?" he prompted.

Baymax blinked. Again, Tadashi was relieved to see that this aspect of him was functioning well. "If someone is to fall ill and faint, you should immediately put them on their back. It is imperative to lift their legs, in the effort to restore blood flow towards the head. If they do not gain consciousness within three minutes after, you should check their airway for clogging, or loosen any constricting clothes such as belts or collared shirts. If any signs of circulation are missing such as breathing or coughing, you should administer CPR right away. From there, the person should regain consciousness. If there are any more complications, they would arise from a separate issue, and whatever actions you should take would be based on that."

Tadashi smiled, a wave of relief washing over him from head to toe. He reached up and took off his hat, drawing a hand quickly through his hair. It was pulled off! He couldn't believe it! Callaghan looked awed and shocked, and unbelievably happy. "That's amazing, Mister Hamada!" he praised. "What else can it cover?"

"Anything and everything, I suppose," Tadashi said. "He's got ten thousand programs at his disposal."

Callaghan pursed his lips. "Would you mind if I asked some more?" he asked. Tadashi grinned and nodded, allowing the notion. Of course he would allow it— being told that he did a good job by his idol meant the world to him. So the older man turned and regarded the robot closely. "What would you do if someone is having a seizure?" he asked, a routine medical issue that anyone was bound to understand and be able to relay.

Baymax replied instantly. "If someone is overcome with a seizure, you must immediately move all furniture or other obstructions that the person could harm themselves on with their involuntary movements. You should turn the person on their side, so that they will not drown themselves with the possible build-up of fluid in their mouth. But at the same time, additional pressure should not be applied to the body. You should also refrain from trying to holding the person down, or trying to move them. Such an action could result in a dislocated shoulder, or further injury."

He nodded, seeming more and more impressed with each reply. It was all delivered in such a way that showed that each answer was ready and just waiting to be voiced. The robot was under no question an expert. Callaghan's mind was working along as the situation unfolded, and he proposed another ordeal to be resolved. "How about if someone breaks their arm?" he asked.

Tadashi was watching the interaction, his eyes flickering back and forth wildly as he hung on every word. It was vital that this work out for him. He didn't know what he would do if it wouldn't.

Baymax blinked. "If someone has broken their arm, you should assess the injury as best as you possibly can. If the bone has broken through the skin, you should stop profuse bleeding as soon as possible by firm pressure against the wound. You should immobilize the broken bone, making sure that the joints are free and that the pressure is not too tight as to cut off blood circulation. A simple splint is the best thing to use in order to help the broken bone. Once everything is set, you should apply ice to the area. Ice can reduce pain, as well as swelling or inflammation. All that is left after that is to make sure that the patient shows no signs of shock afterwards."

"That's amazing!" Callaghan remarked warmly. He glanced at Tadashi. "I'm very proud of you, Mister Hamada."

Tadashi absolutely swelled from the words, his eyes gleaming.

Callaghan leaned back and looked at Baymax with raised eyebrows. "What about a knife wound?" he asked, suddenly sounding thoughtful. Tadashi's smile faded a little bit, a sense of confusion coming over him instead as the man's voice changed a little bit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to be noticeable. Seeing this, Callaghan took in a slow breath. "You know how the city can be— on my way over here, I saw a group of paramedics cleaning up after some alley fight. One of the men they were taking away had an awful wound. Ripped his arm open." Baymax was watching him closely, listening to every word. Callaghan looked meaningfully at Tadashi. "If you want this robot of yours to be able to make use of itself, it should handle situations exactly like this, correct? In the city?"

Tadashi nodded, the puzzlement clearing. "Of course," he said. "I'd want him to help as many people as he possibly could, sir."

Callaghan turned back to Baymax, waiting. Sure enough, Baymax was armed with yet another sure-fire reply. "Blood loss is a serious problem that can lead to death. A person can usually live on after losing about forty percent of their total blood volume, but after that, the body has a harder time compensating with the loss. Organs and tissues of the body are supplied with oxygen by blood circulation; if the blood no longer circulates, then these systems could shut down. It is important to get blood transfusions to the patient as soon as possible. In a few days, they should then feel perfectly fine."

Callaghan still waited, looking at him as if he wanted more. So Baymax continued. "If the patient is unable to get a transfusion right away, you should give them fluids. It can take four to six weeks for a person to recover from major blood loss, however it depends on the individual and how much blood they have lost. If it is too much, they can suffer from headaches, nausea, anxiety, shallow breathing, rapid heartbeat, weak pulse, loss of consciousness, profuse sweating, and like symptoms. You also have to stop the bleeding, if it is continuing. Pressure may be applied to the wound to staunch it. If you are skilled, you could stitch it closed. Or there is cauterization as a last resort."

Callaghan grinned. He turned and looked over at Tadashi in satisfaction. "You seem to have been working very hard on this," he praised highly. "There's no doubt that this robot knows everything inside and out. Once you work out its motions if you haven't already, I'm certain of its success." Tadashi melted at the sentiment, and Callaghan nodded again, looking from Baymax to his creator. Then he cleared his throat and nodded his head. "Well, then, I suppose I best be off. I've got some more things to do around here and then I'm going to head home. I was just interested at the fact you've been here recently on your time away."

Tadashi grinned. "This place is my second home," he stated.

Callaghan seemed pleased. "I'm glad to hear it," he remarked. He turned and started for the door. "Though I will encourage you to take a break," he said over his shoulder. "Summer is for relaxing and having fun, after all. We can't have you starting the next school year burned out, can we, Mister Hamada?"

Tadashi turned and watched him go. "I guess not, sir," he relented. Behind him, Baymax lifted his hand up as if to wave goodbye. But his hand didn't exactly move— it just hung up in the air limply. Tadashi would have to fix that, and he made a mental note of the fact. "Thank you for coming!" he added hastily. "I was glad you could see what all I've been doing."

"Not as glad as I was to hear it," Callaghan replied, flashing him one last smile before he turned and went out the door. As soon as he turned his back on Tadashi, the smile dropped, and his face clouded over in anger and an unbelievable amount of stress. His steps were measured and calm all the way down the hall, but as soon as he rounded the corner, they were anything but. He broke into a run, racing down the hall and for his car as fast as his feet could carry him. Nobody else was around in the college campus to notice him sprint. Or to notice the twisted expression on his face. Or to notice, and wonder at, how fast he peeled out of the darkened parking lot.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

He wasted absolutely no time. Because by this point, time just wasn't left. From his car, he sprinted inside and locked the door behind him. He skirted around the house in a rush, turning and opening the door that led downstairs. And from there, he rushed down, taking the steps two or three at a time. To the right of the staircase was a carpeted area with a large entertainment system. To the left was wood flooring and what led into the computer room. There were bookshelves as well, and a comfy-looking chair to read in. But it was mostly the wooden flooring that had driven Robert to station it all there.

Hiro was laying down on the ground, still unconscious, just Robert had left him. He was pale— he looked whiter than a sheet. Shortly after he had first passed out, Callaghan had acted as fast as he possibly could. First, he had taken Nozomi, who had fallen into a barking fit, into the kitchen bathroom, resolving not to let her out until everything was taken care of. Then, he'd sprinted and grabbed the rope and duct tape that were still in Hiro's room, grabbing a roll of gauze as well, before rushing back. Hiro had been bleeding onto the floor— the dining room was still smeared with the child's blood like some sort of murder scene. Callaghan had gathered him up in his arms and taken him downstairs. Callaghan deposited him there and then did his best to cut off as much of the boy's circulation as he could. He'd tied the rope around the crook of Hiro's arm, right before the site where the wound originated.

Robert had fastened the rope as tight as it would go, pulling it even more anyway for good measure. The skin had become clenched and even whiter from the pressure, but the cut-off did the trick. The bleeding had stopped— or at least, it had gotten much slower than it had been before. It hadn't been enough to solve the problem in terms of the blood loss, and Callaghan knew that he couldn't keep the rope there forever. But Robert had tied the same tight pressure around his leg as well, above the other stab gash. Then he had moved to wrap up the injuries, trying to put as much pressure against the slices as he could. He'd used about half of the entire roll with the efforts.

That had been right before he'd whipped into different clothes and sped for the college.

Now it was about an hour later, and that had been with Callaghan pushing the speed limit the entire way there and back. He dropped down to his knees beside Hiro, who didn't even rouse as his clamor down the steps. The man stooped forward and gathered him in his arms, turning him so that the boy was on his back. He looked him over, eyes wide and frantic at the sight of him. The child looked sickly and ill, and his expression was rendered numb underneath unconsciousness. His eyelids didn't even flicker as he was shifted and handled.

The bandages that he had wrapped around Hiro's wounds before, were now soaked through with blood. They were damp to the touch, and Callaghan felt sick as he surveyed the damage. He swallowed hard and tried to decide what to do. He couldn't call an ambulance— he couldn't take Hiro to a hospital. Then everything that they had worked for – these last seven months that had been the happiest in Callaghan's life since Abigail had died – would be destroyed, and all for nothing. He couldn't let that happen. He refused to let that happen. He would rather die than let anything like that happen. But…but Hiro…was he really prepared to…?

Callaghan shook his head quickly. He ducked down and pressed his forehead into Hiro's chest, the boy's head having drooped backwards limply with the way that he was behind cradled. Still, Hiro didn't move in the slightest. Someone could probably believe that he was sleeping for all he was aware, if it wasn't for the sheer amount of blood that was on him. Down the front and side of his shirt, and down his pants now. And it was absolutely coating his leg and his arm.

Callaghan choked back a sharp swallow. "How could you do this?" he asked, his voice coming out strained and tight. "How could you be so stupid?" How could he be so willing to throw this all away? Everything that they had!? Hiro just didn't understand yet; he still just did not understand. That was all there was to it. It was the only answer. And as the answer settled inside of Callaghan's mind, he drew backwards, his expression narrowing down as he put Hiro back on the floor. Still, he could not garner any sort of reaction at all from him.

He didn't loiter for any longer. He turned and ran upstairs, running down the hall to the kitchen and getting out another knife from the drawer. He turned to the sink and ran hot water over the blade, steam filling the sink as he used dish soap to clean it off as best he could. And, remembering the half-empty bottle of alcohol he had in the fridge, he doubled back to grab that too. He grabbed the knife and rushed into the living room, turning to the electric fireplace in the center of the den and switching it on. It wasn't a real fire, but he hoped that it was as hot as one.

He shifted the guard of the fireplace and stuck the knife in so that the blade was resting on the logs. He could only wait then, his expression narrowed in anger, determination, and thought all at the same time. He was drowning in thoughts, yet none of them seemed to stop enough to foster and become the most dominant. It was all just a whirlwind. He didn't want to hurt Hiro— that was the last thing he wanted to do; Hiro was his, he would never want to bring harm to him. But this was what was needed. It was what he had to do to save him and keep him here. If Hiro hadn't been so stupid and idiotic then maybe he wouldn't have to do this. Afterwards, he would be sure to make it clear to Hiro that this would never happen again. Ever. Under any circumstances.

He would make him regret it.

After a while, Robert realized that the knife blade was almost glowing a dull orange. He figured that that was enough. Fetching an oven mitt that he could use to grip the other end, Robert handled it with great care. He picked up the bottle of alcohol next and then went back downstairs. Hiro was, predictably, just as he had been left on the wooden floor. Robert realized with a pang that the wood was smeared a dark red underneath Hiro. The pressure applied by the rope had stopped a majority of the bleeding, but it was still coming out in an alarming rate. He had to work fast.

Juggling the burning hot knife in the other hand, Robert set down the bottle of alcohol and instead turned to rip off a piece of duct tape. At the same time, he wadded up a small washcloth that he had fetched from the bathroom and pushed that into Hiro's mouth, setting the duct tape into place over it. The tape would keep the cloth from being spat out, and the cloth would effectively muffle any screeches that Hiro might give. Then, he set to the wrappings of the arm, resolving to do that injury first. He peeled off the wet bandages slowly, grimacing at the sight of torn flesh and ripped tendons that met him. It was a gory sight, and once the wrappings were off, blood began to bubble up and spill out over the deep sides of the injury. Robert unwound its entire length and set the mess off to the side to deal with later.

Once that was done, he turned and twisted off the cap of the bottle with a small amount of difficulty. It came off with a pop, and Robert moved so that he could hold Hiro down with his legs, seeing no other alternative as he had no free hands left. Still, Hiro was unconscious— oblivious to everything that was going on and everything that was about to happen. He was still that ghostly pale color as well. His chest moved in low twitches; his breathing was much shallower and sparser than it normally was. His lips were turning pale, and Callaghan knew that the next stage would be for them to turn blue from the lack of oxygen.

He could suffocate.

But Callaghan pushed the worries aside. He was objective now. He didn't let emotion get in the way.

He had to keep Hiro from dying.

Callaghan knew what was to come, and so he braced himself on top of Hiro, anticipating the reaction that was sure to spring up in response. He hovered over the boy and tipped the bottle of alcohol over, watching its contents spill from the lip of the glass, down to hit against the long rip that the knife had created. And as soon as the liquid hit against the slash, Hiro sprang into awareness. His eyes snapped open, and Callaghan could feel his entire body tense and go rigid in agony. His back arched, and the boy let out a scream that probably would have been ear-splitting, had it not been the gag that kept it soft. Hiro's back arched in pain, and his body went into spasms as Robert just continued to pour the alcohol down the entire length of the limb. All the way down right before the wrist, where the injury ended.

Hiro must have either not realized that there was a gag keeping back his screams, or he just didn't care. The boy writhed and convulsed in absolute pain, his face broken into the expression as the alcohol stung and burned his arm. Along with the alcohol, blood was washed down onto the wood flooring, the two liquids melting together and pooling around Hiro in a sickening reddish-orange puddle.

Once the wound was sanitized, Robert moved to hold the hot knife in one hand, and use his other to hold Hiro's arm down by the wrist. He knew that this would only put Hiro into more pain, but he had dedicated himself to the effort. It was the only chance he had now to keep him here. He turned and glared down at Hiro, whose eyes were streaming and who was still convulsing, despite how weak the jerks and twitches were. "You made me do this," he growled out through clenched teeth, and Hiro closed his eyes tightly, his fingers curling as he let out another heartbreaking shriek. "You left me no choice!" Callaghan went on to snap. "Keep still!"

He looked down and started to line up the knife to the first inch of the wound. He would go little by little and burn it closed, making sure that there was no space for any more bleeding. He would take care of this problem quickly and neatly, and make sure that such a thing never happened again. But Hiro was shaking from head to toe, and his body was shaking as if he was having a seizure. The adrenaline of fear and from the pain that the alcohol had inflicted was helping him be this active— otherwise, from such a massive blood loss already, he would be as still as a statue.

Robert seethed in frustration and panic. He turned, baring his teeth and doing the only thing he could think of to calm Hiro down and get him to stop moving so much. If he did not stop moving, then Callaghan wouldn't be able to fix his injury at all. So he reared back with his free hand and launched it forward, slapping Hiro across the face with as much strength as he could possibly muster. Hiro's head was thrown to the side in the aftermath, and his eyes grew distant and fuzzy with shock from the harsh blow. He stilled, going into a brief paralysis. And Callaghan acted before such a thing could be reversed.

He pressed the hot blade of the knife down against the start of the injury. Hiro immediately screeched, tears rushing down his face as went into another fit of seizure-like movements. Despite the pain in his legs, he struggled to kick out, and despite the pain in his back, it jerked upwards as if struck by lightning. Callaghan forced him down, grumbling harsh obscenities as he held the hot blade there long enough to seal together the edges of the wound. He moved down the length of Hiro's arm, holding him in spot and thoroughly immobile, save for his jerks of agony.

He repeated the movement and got halfway down Hiro's arm before listening to his muffled screaming pushed Callaghan over the edge. It wasn't loud of course— not with the washcloth swallowing up a majority of the noise. But it was enough to send Callaghan reeling. He slapped Hiro across the face again, this time just as hard, if not harder, than the last time. He leaned closer to Hiro and planted his free hand down hard on Hiro's throat, briefly cutting off the boy's air supply.

Hiro's eyes immediately widened, and he started to heave thickly into the gag, struggling to draw in the oxygen his body was already begging for. "You're pathetic," Callaghan growled, spitting the words in between his clenched teeth. Hiro's breathing was still just as shallow, but it was increasing in its speed. His head was reeling with the hyperventilation, and his movements were quickly becoming groggier and groggier, but Robert didn't seem to care in the slightest. "Abigail would never have done this," Robert continued in a snarl. "Until you become more like her, you're nothing. What were you like before this?"

Hiro was still struggling for air, looking as if he was about to vomit. Robert took his arm back harshly, the boy immediately inhaling though his nose. But he had only taken his hand back to hold Hiro's arm down again, and so he moved on to press the knife down against another section of the wound to seal it closed. The teenager's head lolled to the side, his breathing quickening as his eyes threatened to roll back into his head again.

Robert continued in his snarl. "You were nothing but a piece of crap. Your brother would always come into class complaining about you— how you always talked back and never listened and always went Bot Fighting." Hiro groaned, twitching harshly as the searing knife was pressed against his skin again. That, or he was trying to cringe away from Callaghan's words. "He didn't love you, he hated you. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he was complaining about you to his friends. He never shut up. Now I bet he's relieved that you're gone. It would explain why he seems so much happier."

Hiro garbled out something, but through the gag, it was impossible to tell whether or not he was actually making sense, or if he was just delirious from the pain. Callaghan wasn't in the mood to try and figure it out. He just kept going, burning the self-inflicted wound closed one small burst at a time. The skin left behind in the efforts was singed and blackened. And though the injury was closed in exactly the way that Callaghan had wanted, the skin was left looking mutilated and damaged beyond repair. The smell of burning flesh and blood was overpowering, and it was enough to make Robert feel sick.

Callaghan was nearing the end of his arm. By now, Hiro's head had lolled to the side, and he was barely reacting to the torture of the still-burning hot knife being pressed hard into his arm. It was like he didn't even notice it, yet it couldn't be more obvious to him. Even his breathing had slowed down, despite the pain that was shaking him to the very core of his body. He had broken out in sweats, and every so often, despite the heat from the knife, his body would break out into a shiver.

He stopped trying to fight.

Finally, Robert finished pressing the hot knife against the stretch of Hiro's wound. From his shoulder to above his wrist, Callaghan had sealed it closed with the hot blade. Satisfaction filled him to the brim, and only then did he reach up and untie the tight rope that was tied underneath Hiro's arm. It was safe to do so, now that the wound was fully dealt with. Though if Hiro felt any sense of relief from the alleviation, he didn't show it in the slightest. His expression had dulled over into more of a numb look.

Callaghan stared at him levelly for a moment before shaking his head in a sense of severe disappointment. "Oh, Hiro," he sighed, his voice suddenly downtrodden. "…We'll get through this. I know we will." His voice darkened now, and he added in a low hiss: "Because we both now that nothing like this will ever happen again."

Hiro still just stared off into space, unresponsive. His eyes were only half-open now, and they were losing whatever attentive light they had managed to get in the first sudden jolt of pain. The only sign that he had heard Callaghan at all was the tears that slipped down his cheeks. Though of course, those could be from a multitude of things.

Robert certainly didn't notice the child's distress. Or if he did, he showed no sign. He just turned and picked up the bottle of alcohol again. He shifted to hold down Hiro's ankle now, hiking up the boy's jeans too harshly and slipping off those bandages as well. By now, blood and alcohol were spreading across the floor, seeping into Hiro's clothes and all of his senses. The stink was disorienting, and the boy looked dangerously close to getting throwing up.

Callaghan lifted up the bottle and began to tilt it over. "I just wonder when you will learn," Callaghan sighed, in a voice that was almost gentle.

Hiro groaned again, half-aware and losing consciousness all over again now. His expression was fuzzy, and incoherent mumbles were leaking through the gag, as if he was trying to talk and all that was coming out was numbed gibberish.

The alcohol spilled out of its glass and hit against the start of Hiro's leg wound.

And the torture started all over again.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

The doorbell rang shrilly, and the conversation dropped a little bit, pleased smiles gracing the faces of who were gathered. Nozomi broke into a fit of barks, hopping from one foot to the other as she raced towards the door. "That must be our last guest," Callaghan said, dethatching himself from the conversation he was currently in as he turned and went for the front door. The little dog wound around, looking frustrated as she yipped at the top of her lungs. Ignoring her and shooing her to the side, Callaghan reached over and opened the door.

"Mrs. Klein!" he said, a smile splitting over his face. "Welcome! The best always comes last to the party."

Mrs. Klein grinned warmly. She came inside once Callaghan beckoned her, and she looked down to fix the bottom of her dress. "Good to see you, as always," she said, her voice affectionate. She turned and started to head for the kitchen, where she could hear an array of voices. It was where the party usually started out. "This get-together is always the one thing in summer I look forward to," she admitted with a grin.

"Well, it's tradition," Robert replied, following her. "We've always got to have one last celebration before the school year picks up again."

The party was always something that the teachers planned sometime in the month of July, before their free time was then swallowed up by grading tests and papers and evaluations. It had fallen on Callaghan to host the party this year. It had taken some hard cleaning, of course. He had to scrub away the blood that had been in the dining room, and he had washed the knife that had ripped Hiro's arm and leg open five times over in the dishwasher. But he had gotten everything under control. Now, the place was pristine and clean, he was handing out drinks to the faculty that was closest to him, and music was playing out of a stereo in the kitchen.

Some of the teachers had pooled out into the living room, the kitchen too small to hold them. But they were all talking and laughing together. At the start of this tradition, the only people that tended to talk together were those who saw each other a lot in the day, or who taught in the same type of departments. Now, after getting together for so long, everyone was friends with everyone. They mingled and talked and laughed, making a dull roar of conversation fill the home.

Walking back towards the kitchen, Callaghan was hailed down by the Physics instructor, Professor Wilson. "Robert!" he called, the man stopping with a wide grin. He excused himself from Mrs. Klein, turning instead to go and join the small group in front of the fireplace. "How have you been, recently?" he asked. "We haven't caught up together since the last day of school! How did your Finals turn out?"

Robert laughed. "Well, you know my class," he mused. "Half did amazing, and the other half did a bit less than that."

Wilson's eyebrows raised. "Really? You can hardly catch a break, can you?" He laughed, and Robert followed suit, making small talk that didn't really mean much. But it was pleasant, accompanied with the music that obstructed noise in the background. "I assume you have higher hopes for this year— maybe getting all your students to knock it out of the park? You seem much less cynical than usual." This was said with a teasing lilt, and he winked at the other, who gave another laugh.

"You never know," Callaghan said pleasantly. "But I like to think that happiness can come from more than just work."

Wilson chuckled. "Sure, if we're talking about someone other than you." He tilted his head to the side, his grin growing slowly and his eyes lighting up. "So what's got you so excited?" he pressed. "Don't tell me you've finally gotten yourself up to find a girl?" Callaghan smiled, and Wilson grew a bit more eager. "You know, Pam down at the Welcome Center lost her husband a month ago. She's already out dating again. It's been years for you; did you finally decide that it was time?"

"No, I haven't starting dating," Callaghan shot down, watching as Wilson wilted a little bit. Nevertheless, the teacher kept his own smile on his face. He stuffed his hands down into his pockets and gave a small nod. "But I have met somebody," he said, his voice turning softer now as he gave another small burst of laughter. Wilson's eyebrows raised and he looked as though he was about to ask for further clarification. But before he could, Callaghan suddenly looked to the side, his expression changing quickly. "Woah— what are you doing?" he asked quickly.

One of the guests had branched off to the door that led down into the basement. She straightened a little bit, looking alarmed as she froze mid-reach. "O-Oh," she said, smiling awkwardly as she pulled back a bit slowly. "I was just going to look for the bathroom." She must be new teaching, Callaghan realized. He couldn't put a name to her face. The woman frowned a little uncertainly. "Is there...is there not a bathroom down there?" she asked.

"There is," Callaghan said. But as she reached over for the door again, he went on hastily: "But I didn't get a chance to clean down there. It's a real mess. There's a bathroom in the kitchen, if you'd like to use that. I just closed the basement door in the hopes that nobody would go down there. It's a bit embarrassing; I've got so much to do with the new school year, that I couldn't down even put a dent the clutter."

She blinked, looking from Callaghan to the closed door. After a moment she recovered and nodded. "Of course! I'm sorry." She seemed flustered, but turned for the kitchen obediently. Callaghan watched her go, feeling a sense of satisfaction and relief as she walked away from the door. He watched it for a few more moments, his gaze thoughtful. Then he shook his head, clearing it before turning back to Wilson and picking up the conversation.

"Anyway," he brushed aside. "What's new with you?"

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

The last person straggled out around midnight. That was when Callaghan began to clean up, switching off the music and putting away the drinks and plates of food. It didn't take him very long at all to pick up after the get-together. Once he did, he stopped in the middle of the living room, surveying it with a careful eye. Then he turned and looked towards the door the led downstairs.

Nozomi was up and about, rushing from one room to the other. He'd given her three baths just to get the blood out of her fur. She was fuzzy and the smell of soap permeated whatever room she was in. Throughout the night, the guests had fawned over the new addition, trying to pet her and hold her like anybody automatically did when they saw a cute dog. But, just like now, she was on the prowl. She was running around, her nose working hard as she sniffed and drank in the air. She was looking for the missing piece of the puzzle. She hadn't seen him in a while; by now, she was strung-out, and losing her mind in apparent confusion.

Callaghan took in a slow breath before he turned and went to the kitchen, filling up a cup of water before going downstairs. He didn't mean to let Nozomi down, but the dog broke into a sprint, and he couldn't manage to hold her back. She was like a rocket down the steps; he was impressed she didn't fall over herself. She didn't even pause, before she veered left, and Callaghan quickened his pace to keep up. He rounded the corner, holding tight to the cup as he started for the corner of the computer room.

The room was dark. And it would have been completely silent had it not been for the harsh, shallowed breathing that was rasping from Hiro. He was on his side, his arm and leg splayed out in limp directions. His chest was heaving in twitching movements, and his eyes were half-lidded and glazed over. The air was thick with the smell of burned skin, sickness, and sweat. Hiro had been sweating ever since he had first started bleeding, yet Callaghan could see that the small boy was shivering violently.

Robert walked over and leaned down to crouch beside him. Hiro wasn't even roused by his newfound presence. Or even Nozomi's, even though the dog was sniffing at him furiously, seeming alarmed. Her fur was standing straight on end, and she fell into a groan of whimpers as she flattened herself to the floor. Callaghan's forehead creased the way a mathematician's would when they looked at a perplexing equation. Hiro's movements were weak at the most, but he seemed to be heaving and jerking. If his expression wasn't so numbed over, he would have thought that Hiro would appear panicked.

Callaghan leaned over and grabbed the tape that was over the boy's mouth. He peeled it away, and almost immediately, Hiro used his tongue to force the washcloth out right after. Callaghan's nose wrinkled at the smell— the back of the towel was stained with bile. And sure enough, as Callaghan looked from the mess to the boy, Hiro tensed and ducked forward, choking for a heartbeat before he vomited. There wasn't a lot that came up, considering he hadn't eaten in forever. He choked and whimpered in deep pain as he got sick, the noises coming out small and pathetic.

Eventually he was done, bile staining the side of his face and making a small puddle on the wood below him. He let out a shivering sigh that scraped loudly against his throat. He fell still again, save for the shivers and tremors that wracked his body. He was far too pale. But he was still breathing. Callaghan leaned over, holding out the cup for Hiro to sip from. "Here. Drink some of this." Hiro didn't even open his eyes more. He just continued to gasp weakly in and out, staring into space through half-lidded eyes. For all Callaghan could see, the boy wasn't even aware of him.

Robert leaned further, forcing the rim of the cup between Hiro's lax lips. He began to tilt it forward, and he watched the water drain into the child's mouth. At first Hiro spluttered, choking and gagging as Callaghan tightened his hold. Thankfully enough, something seemed to register with whatever mind Hiro still retained. His throat began to move in short twitches, and he swallowed the water down in a sense of sharp need. Like he'd been in the desert for three months straight.

The cup was more than half drained when Callaghan took it back. Fluids— that was what Baymax had said was important. So it was what Robert had given him. Every day, he had come downstairs to give Hiro water. He'd changed his bandages as well, trying to make sure that there was no risk of infection or worse. But despite the efforts, the injury was a pain to even look at. The skin around the wounds was blackened and red— inflamed and irritated beyond repair. And even though the sides of the gashes had been fused together, the rips were burned, and they looked twisted and warped in a painful way. The stench that they gave off was sickening.

Hiro hadn't moved his leg or his arm ever since he'd torn them.

Callaghan turned to leave. Every time that he had come down here, he had tried to pry conversation out of Hiro. But Hiro had never been able to react. That, or he was ignoring him. Callaghan had stopped trying a few days ago, and he had stopped trying to make excuses for the boy as well. At first, he had just patted his head gently and smiled, telling him that they would try talking the next day. But that was tired out soon enough. All he felt now was frustration and anger. At what Hiro had done, and at the fact that he was not better yet.

If he just had used his head, they would not be in this situation.

This was all Hiro's fault.

Hiro's teeth were chattering. He was freezing, despite the fair temperature of the house. Callaghan didn't think of it much. He started to reach to the side, when all of a sudden, a small wheeze literally forced itself into being. It was almost nothing— a mere shadow of what speech really should be. The only reason it was heard at all was because there was no other sound to overtake it. "I…" Robert immediately looked back to see Hiro's paled lips moving ever so slightly. His expression was still numbed, and his eyes were still lifeless. But he was forcing himself to speak nevertheless. "I…have…t-…bathroom," he breathed out.

It had been a week, and he hadn't passed any urine whatsoever.

This was the first time that he had shown any need to at all.

Robert studied Hiro closely. The boy closed his eyes as the need slipped through his weak lips. Instead of speaking further, the only noise that came from Hiro next was his weak, shallow wheezes. Callaghan looked at the bandages on his arms, which had begun to brown over. He would have to change them. But for the moment he just stared, considering what his reply should be. Finally, he spoke, his voice blank and apathetic. Hiro forced his eyes to open, the effort monumental for the simple action.

"Well…" Callaghan's eyes narrowed a bit and he looked down at the small child. He looked skinnier than a rail. "You probably should have thought about that before you went and did this," he growled.

Hiro's eyes sparked with a sense of desperation. He shifted as if to move and stand up, when the agony that ripped through his arm and his leg stopped him from doing anything else. He floundered, a heartbreaking noise leaking out of his throat as tears beaded up in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Callaghan wasn't in the mood. He turned and grabbed the washcloth from the ground, which was still stained with vomit. He pushed it back into Hiro's mouth, who immediately reacted in disgust and terror. He began to twist and writhe again, the movements inept and barely noticeable.

It made putting the duct tape back over his mouth simplistic.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Everything hurt.

He could hardly breathe. It felt like he was struggling to draw in air through a straw with every inhale. His head was reeling, which left the room to spin around him and the floor to fall away from where he was laying. A few times he had grown coherent enough to try and get up, but even the smallest twitches of his muscles brought torture to cloud his mind. Really, that was how most of the time was passed. Hiro wasn't even aware of how long he had been like this. All he knew was pain. And a lot of it.

He was absolutely freezing, too. His shivering caused a sharp amount of pain all by itself. But he couldn't bring himself to stop it. He felt sick and gross. His shirt and pants were sticking to him from sweat, and his hair was damp, and in his eyes. His mouth tasted like vomit from the cloth that was taped into place, and this fact managed to permeate the fog of his mind, he was reduced into a fit of weak gags; it was all he could do to stop himself from getting sick again.

He didn't know how long he was here. He didn't know how long he was going to be here. Like this.

Callaghan came down. Hiro was vaguely aware of him doing something with his bandages— sometimes he could grasp the fact that he was being given water, or he was being shifted. But his focus came in and out. What he gathered was small and minimal. He could sometimes hear Callaghan saying something— he could hear the drone of his voice. But he couldn't make sense of the actual words. And every day it just seemed to get worse. Every day, Hiro seemed to get colder and colder. Less and less things could click and make sense.

He could not move.

His pants were sticking to him with sweat, and before too long, he could not stop them from sticking to him with urine as well.

Disoriented and groggy, Hiro's head was slack to the side. He grimaced blearily and struggled to call out for someone. But he couldn't get his tongue to work and listen to him. He couldn't get anything to listen to him anymore. It was all he could do to seep air down into his lungs, which hurt more than anything else possibly could. It would be pointless, though. Even if he could call out for someone, they wouldn't hear thanks to his gag. He didn't even know who to call out to, though.

He had never felt more alone.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"You've been working here a lot," Honey Lemon remarked, her voice warm. Tadashi glanced at her from the coffee machine, offering her a small smile. He was picking up after the day's work, having finished wiping down the counters just a few minutes ago. Now he was in the middle of mopping up the appliances. It was routine, and it was a routine he had been doing a lot of over the summer. Aunt Cass had gone upstairs to start dinner. She preferred to be alone sometimes, and he was more than willing to compensate. "You must be itching to get back to school," she went on. "I know I am."

"I'm a little worried about it, actually," Tadashi admitted, surveying the machine in front of him with pursed lips. He glanced over at Honey Lemon to see that she looked a little uncertain. He shrugged and moved on to add: "I just…feel like I should stick around a bit more," Tadashi admitted. "It's why I stopped working on Baymax until school picks up again. Aunt Cass has been getting…she's been getting a little bit worse…almost. I mean…as time goes on." He frowned and looked down at the towel he was holding. "So…once school picks up, most of my time will be taken up again."

Honey Lemon wilted. She shifted on the bar stool she was perched on, locking her fingers together. "How's she doing, then?" she asked in a small murmur. It was nearly August. Their second year of college would start soon; but that wasn't the most important thing to focus on. The most important thing to think of was that in a few short months, it would be a year that Hiro was missing. An entire year— twelve whole months.

Wherever he was now, he was fifteen, not fourteen.

"Like you'd expect," Tadashi sighed, his voice turning weary and tired. He shook his head. "Sometimes she's great— like nothing's changed. She just finished an entire three days where she was completely normal. We went on a walk, even. She was telling jokes. But…then she'll see something that reminds her of Hiro. She'll walk down the hallway and see a picture of us together, or she'll accidentally start to get out a third plate for dinner. And…then she'll just wither away."

He frowned, his expression growing remorseful. "She doesn't get as upset as she used to. That is…she doesn't have any mental breakdowns or anything like that. Now she just…gets really quiet. There's no point in trying to talk to her when she gets like that because you know there's no way she'll reply. And…whenever she smiles, it's like she's holding something back, or trying to cover something up. She goes to bed earlier. It's just…slumps like that that she gets into sometimes and it always takes a while for her to recover." He looked at her with a heavy expression. He shrugged again. "I usually just…wait. And try to help her as much as I can."

"That's…that's awful," Honey Lemon whispered.

Tadashi hesitated, just staring at her. After the hesitation he shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe." Honey Lemon seemed puzzled, and he turned back to the appliance. "It's just…a lot for her to deal with. She lost her sister, and her mother and father too. Now she's gone and lost her nephew." He bit down on his lower lip and paused for a long moment. He cleared his throat. "She's just upset. And she has a right to be. I'm not going to…batter her and try to force her to feel better, it'll only make it all worse. I'm just…there for her. I do some of the café work, and I make sure she's alright. That's all that matters to me."

The blonde studied her friend closely. "And you…?" she prompted after a pause. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." The reply was curt.

Her eyebrows raised. She didn't want to push, but… "You don't seem fine."

He flashed her a look, turning and starting to transition over to the pastries below the counter. "Do you want me to sing and dance?" he asked. "Because I left my tap dancing shoes upstairs. I'll have to run up and get them."

"No," she sighed. "I just want you to be honest with me. About how you feel."

"It's almost been a year, Honey Lemon," Tadashi snapped, brushing aside crumbs that marred the décor of the sweets. "A year and I still have no idea where Hiro is. The police haven't heard a single thing. Even a sighting of Hiro hasn't been phoned in." He straightened, looking at her with a sorrowful gaze. "It gets harder and harder to make it look like I'm not stressed out and upset, and it just gets even more impossible when people pester me about it." She seemed hurt by the words, and he quickly realized this. He sighed, closing his eyes and doubling back. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer. "Forget I said anything; you don't deserve to be yelled at. You've been nothing but good to me."

"It's alright," she said gently. "I understand."

He stared off into space for a few moments, his heart heavy. When he went on, his voice was a small mumble. "I'm worried, Honey Lemon," he confessed. He was whispering now. The girl sat up straight at this, her eyebrows pulling together at the new tone in his voice. He turned to meet her eyes, suddenly looking much older. When she only looked bemused, he went on slowly. "I'm worried that nothing is going to be the same again," he rasped. "That Aunt Cass will always have these slumps…and never really be happy again. That I'll never see Hiro grow up into the person I always knew he could be. I'm worried I'll never get to see him meet someone and get marred— live a life with them and have a kid of his own." He swallowed thickly, flinching. "I'm worried that I'll stay like this…always faking that everything is fine. That I'll just…continue pretending to be happy."

Honey Lemon seemed pained. She leaned over and put her hand gently on top of his, which was planted on the countertop. "You don't have to pretend to be happy, Tadashi," she protested weakly.

He grimaced. He ducked away and replied sorrowfully: "Pretending is better than facing the fact that I just can't get myself to be," he confessed.

There was a long stretch of silence.

Tadashi whispered out the thought that he had been trying to stifle for weeks now.

"They're not going to find him," he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

Honey Lemon grimaced against a well of pain at the words. She stood quickly, turning and rounding the counter of the café only to pull her friend close with as much force as she could possibly muster. Tadashi inhaled sharply, leaning down and ducking into her shoulder. He clung to her, and she heard him give a small sniff. "Of course they'll find him, Tadashi," she whispered encouragingly, fighting off her own tears as he felt her eyes begin to sting. "Please don't tell yourself anything else. Hiro will be found. I know he will. Don't you?"

Tadashi didn't reply. He gave a small sob and just held onto her.

She decided that speaking wouldn't do much good.

So she took a page from Tadashi's book, and just took to being silent and offering him comfort. She wished she could be so much more. But she was content to act as a rock. If Tadashi was willing, he was more than welcome to cling to her, to keep himself afloat against the waves of sorrow that threatened to pull him under.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Hiro..." Darkness surrounded Hiro on all sides. Everything was numb, and he almost felt like he was floating through nothing at all. He perked at the sound of his own name and turned, trying to see through the fog that was permeating his mind. "Hiro!" That voice…he knew it. There was no mistaking it. But…but then this wasn't real, was it? Blearily, he struggled to make sense of things— to tell up from down. It was almost impossible. "Hiro! Come on, you Knucklehead!"

Hiro turned, finally seeing him through the fog. It was him. A smile immediately spread across Hiro's face, from one ear to the other. His chest felt much too tight, and he felt tears prick his eyes as he saw Tadashi. His older brother was grinning just as big, standing about twenty yards away with his hands shoved down into his pockets. He was exactly like Hiro remembered; he was wearing his same old hat, and even from here, Hiro could see the same old soft look that lived in the elder's eyes. The sight of Hiro seemed to be just as rewarding as seeing Tadashi was for Hiro. He grinned and called out again. "Come on, Genius! Let's go!"

"'Go?'" Hiro asked, his voice small and weak. He sniffed and made a move to rub at his eyes, though he wasn't exactly sure whether or not he really did that. He didn't really care though. He just tilted his head to the side and asked again: "Go where?"

"We've got to go!" Tadashi just reiterated. "C'mon!"

Hiro grinned. He started to move after, but he felt as if a million pounds were holding him back. Moving was suddenly the equivalent of dragging. Tadashi turned once Hiro began to take initiative, starting to lead the way. Seeing this, Hiro's heart skipped a beat, causing pain to rip across his chest. "W-Wait!" he yelped, his voice grating against his throat. "I can't— I can't keep up!" he wailed. Tadashi's stride didn't even falter though, as he kept on. Hiro struggled, trying to force his body into a run, but he couldn't even walk. He was being held back. "Tadashi, wait for me!" he cried desperately, watching his brother get farther and farther away. "Don't leave me!"

Tadashi's back was to Hiro; he didn't even glance over his shoulder.

Hiro sobbed, floundering and struggling. It was pointless, he knew. But he had to catch up to him. He had to catch up…he had to catch up…he had to catch up… "Tadashi!" he screeched, stumbling and staggering after. He was getting nowhere. "I can't leave!" Hiro sobbed, screaming in the effort to have Tadashi hear him and possibly double back. "Tadashi, I can't leave!" he repeated hopelessly. Still, his brother was deaf. He just kept walking. "Tadashi, please don't leave me behind! I can't leave— you have to come to me!"

He watched his brother walk into the fog, disappearing from view.

He screamed as loud as his lungs would allow. "Tadashi, don't leave me, please!"

Callaghan was sitting silently on the ground beside Hiro. His gaze was pensive and thoughtful as he studied the boy, who was still on the ground. He was running a high fever; despite his shivering, Callaghan could feel the heat that was radiating off of him. The bandages had been changed on his arm and his leg, but the wounds still smelled foul and sour. Hiro's eyes still had that same vacant look, and they still only managed to be halfway open. However, his pupils were going every which way, flickering to the left the right with rapid movements.

He was mumbling underneath his breath, his words slurred and his syllables bleeding together in a mesh. "Don't leave…please don't leave…Tadashi…no, please…don'tleavemepleasedon'tleavemehere…"

Callaghan sat cross-legged beside Hiro, his hands folded together in thought as he just looked at him.

He did absolutely nothing.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Hiro was in and out. By now he had no idea what reality was. What separated his fevered deliriums from tangible occurrences? Surely there was no line anymore. He couldn't even tell what this one was. By now it was hard for him to feel anything at all. It was what led him to assume that he was dreaming again, or in some state of nothing. Because whenever he did have spurts of coherence, pain was the only thing he could possibly fathom.

"Hey. You look a little bit worn out. You okay?"

He turned, blinking as he looked over at his shoulder.

He was not surprised at who he saw.

Abruptly, he turned and looked away.

A small sigh came from the voice. "Don't worry," it pressed. "You're going to be just fine. I know these things." There was a small pattering of footsteps, and then she planted himself in front of him. Abigail stared at Hiro, the pair just taking to looking at one another almost blankly. "Don't be angry. Come on." Her glasses matched Hiro's to a perfect point. "Please don't be angry. You're going to be okay. He would never let you die. So you're not going to."

"How can you know?" Hiro rasped.

"'How can you know?'" she demanded. Then she grinned widely again. "I just do," she said, her voice sweet. "He loves you. Just like he loved me. So you're safe."

Hiro's lower lip trembled. Abigail's did as well, her smile abruptly changing to a look of deep sorrow as she wavered. "I just want to go home," Hiro whispered unsteadily. "I just want to go home, that was all I was doing. I didn't mean to kill myself. That wasn't what I wanted to do."

He sniffed, and Abigail did as well, at the exact same time. "'I just want to go home,'" she repeated, her voice trembling just as Hiro's had. "'I just want to go home, that was all I was doing. I didn't mean to kill myself. That wasn't what I wanted to do.'" She paused briefly, the remorseful look remaining on her features only briefly. Then Abigail recovered her cheery beam. "What makes you think you killed yourself?" she demanded. "I just told you— you're going to be fine. You couldn't kill anyone, remember? That was what you thought. So what makes you think you could kill yourself?"

Hiro grimaced. Abigail quickly did as well. "I'm dying," Hiro croaked. "Can't you see that?"

"'I'm dying. Can't you see that?'" Abigail pressed, her voice breaking in the exact spot that Hiro's had. Hiro soured, his watery eyes narrowing into a scowl. She immediately shifted to glare right back at him. But her voice was just as light when she replied. "I don't know," she chirped. "Can you? You seem awfully keen to predict your own death." She paused, before she repeated a bit softer: "He loves you."

"No. He doesn't," Hiro hissed.

''No. He doesn't,'" she parroted. Then she tilted her head to the side. "Oh, he does though. He really does; I would know. On the other hand, I don't think you would know love if it bit you. You keep thinking that Tadashi will come back and save you, like he's some sort of angel. But it's been a year. Isn't that funny? It's been an entire year, and you're still here. And Tadashi sees Callaghan every day! You think if he really cared, you wouldn't be here." She shook her head. "If I had to pick between the two of them who loved you the most, I think the answer would be pretty—"

"Stop!" Her speech was interrupted, both her and Hiro yelling the command at the same time.

Hiro's face fell. Abigail's did at well. Twitching, Hiro lifted his left arm from his side, bringing it up and waving it slowly from side to side. Abigail did the exact same thing, at the exact same pace. Like two sides of a mirror, they were evenly matched in everything from facial expressions to movements. Hiro's forehead creased over in confusion, as did Abigail's. His fingers curled in and out quickly, and hers did the same. He opened and closed his mouth, and Abigail mimicked the movement at once.

He dropped his arm limply at his side, looking dejected and puzzled.

She was like a shadow. She did the same.

Hiro stared at her, waiting for her to say something. To explain.

Abigail's face split into a beam. She giggled, wiping at her eyes as if something was just hilariously funny. "It really isn't that hard," she laughed. She looked up at Hiro through her identical glasses, offering him a crooked grin and an assured nod. "But I guess I'm just better at this whole thing than you are."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

A/N: I tried to do this chapter as much justice as I could. As you can probably tell, I did far too much research with this one, too. But I hope that it pays off. If you have any questions about any of it, I'd be happy to answer, as always!

You guys were just so awesome! I mean, twenty reviews!? Thank you guys so much! I knew that you all deserved this super quick update. It was hard to type sixteen pages in the span of pretty much two days and make it good enough to put out. I hope I did it justice c:

Things are going to start to kick into gear, and I'm so pumped to write it! People have been asking how much longer this story will be, and though I don't have an actual number to hand over, I will say that these next few chapters will be the springboard for everything to kind of start coming together. Thank you guys for sticking with me up until now! It means so much to get to have people reading all of my work!

I will see each and every one of you in ten reviews! Thank you again from the bottom of my heart!