"So… yeah." Fred gestures vaguely towards the room in front of him. "Make yourself at home, I guess."
The den is the same as the last time Hiro was here.
…Wow, that memory's a kick in the head.
Not long ago. When they were all together, having fun, taking it easy for a single evening, except he was losing his mind the entire time, and he- Hiro was here, in this room, but last time Fred bailed and got ahold of Honey because he knew he needed help-
-but now he invited him here-
"Cool." Hiro takes in the scenery with a sleepy sort of interest, then flops down on the couch. "Thanks again, man."
There's a ghost in his mind, pulling strings and making his mouth move to say "No prob, Bob," but it can't really be him. It can't be him, because there's no way he'd really be here, casually making jokes while Hiro's in his house, while he's somewhere alone with Hiro. "You okay to just sleep out here?"
"Yeah, absolutely." The kid's face darkens, and he reaches for his elbow again before standing up with a wince. "On second thought, can I use your bathroom? 'M gonna… I dunno, run it under cold water. I guess."
"Yeah," he says again. "Do you want me to-"
Hiro's partway to the hall when he looks back. "Huh? To what?"
You're really starting to lose it.
Fred blinks. "Uh… nothing. You can- you can use the shower if you need to."
"Oh." He looks down, hesitating. "I didn't, like, bring a change of clothes or anything."
"Right." And he wants to say That's alright, you can borrow some of mine, and they'll probably be too big but whatever, you can use them if you want, but he doesn't say that because fucking hell. "Right, of course."
Hiro gives an uncomfortable shrug and slips out of the room. Fred doesn't move for a moment, then slowly sinks down onto the couch.
His thoughts are moving so quickly and slowly at the same time, but he's able to make sense of them eventually. He was gonna ask Hiro if he wanted him to… help. With his arm. Like he needs somebody to be there, caring for him, looking after him in the most literal way and- being close to him-
He feels like he's going to vomit.
"You can't tell my brother. Please?"
As if Hiro's trusting him over anyone else, even his own family, trusting him with a personal and intimate and unguarded moment, sharing something with him, making him a part of his life-
Do you… want this?
He can hear water running in the bathroom. The kid's washing away the dirt and the blood after a fight gone wrong- hurt, and probably scared, and needing someone to help. Fred doesn't know why that idea is so prominent in his mind. Something about it's just…
Exciting.
Secrets. Trust. Hiro, letting his guard down to ask him for something. Being open and vulnerable. All tangled in his intelligence, his mischief, his adolescent drive to walk the city at four in the morning, his unsure and worried eyes looking up at him while he asks please under a moonless night by the waves of the bay.
What the fuck.
He has his head in his hands, nails digging into his skull. This is- it's all wrong. It's all bullshit. He has to get him out of here, right now, but- but he can't just kick him out, the kid can't even walk normally, so- what should- he should drive Hiro back to the café, he should just make him go back, even if he doesn't want to.
But Hiro looked so desperate. And Fred's… tired. Exhausted, in fact, even though he feels like his brain is on fire at the same time. Fred stares down at his hands, and he's not sure if he'd be able to make another drive tonight, especially since it's more like morning at this point.
He doesn't know what to do.
He doesn't know what he wants to do.
Maybe it's a while, or just a few minutes, but suddenly Hiro's back in the room. Fred nearly jumps. "H-hey! Hey."
If he notices, Hiro doesn't say anything. He's absently rubbing at his arm, staring up at the walls. "…Pretty wild," he remarks. When Fred follows his gaze, he sees the den's collection of superhero paraphernalia- not just the comics, and the action figures, but the rest, too. Special-edition T-shirts, movie posters, scale replicas of signature weapons and even a couple full-size costumes. Hiro has a glint in his eyes, now, darting over to take in some of the rarer editions on a bookshelf near the den's computer. "How'd you end up with all these?"
"Well- I kinda, like, collect them," he mumbles. That's obvious, though. That's not really what Hiro was asking. "Mostly I find things online, or at conventions and stuff."
"Whoa." Hiro's only half-listening, still wandering past video games and stacks of comics. And it's an image all by itself, of the kid engrossed in things he finds interesting and cool, free to act young and childish and excited, an image that Fred doesn't think about. He doesn't.
The word cute rings in his skull. He tries to ignore it.
"I've never seen this much superhero stuff in one place," Hiro says with something like awe. There's not a question in that, but Fred still feels like he should say something back, maybe explain why he likes the stories so much-
-share something personal, something real, something he's never tried explaining to anyone-
He shakes his head, and his voice doesn't have a trace of what's going on in his mind. "Yeah, always been a fan," he says. "It's like… people who can suddenly do more than they ever imagined, but- you know, they still have, like-" Gesturing vaguely with his arms, he frowns. "It's hard to put into words."
"No, I think I get it." Nose pressed against a glass display, Hiro squints at the caped costume inside it. "They still have problems and stuff? Still relatable?"
Fred blinks. "…Yeah."
"Huh." Hiro takes a moment, and when he speaks next, it's slower, like he's thinking it over. "Got in a fight with Tadashi about that once. Superhero movies and stuff."
"Huh?"
"You know. What makes them good." Hiro scratches his nose. "He said it's all about if people can relate or not, because if you can't, then there's no vested interest when they're in danger or whatever." Shrugging, he turns back to the rest of the room. "Personally, I think the superhero genre plays by a different set of rules, where it's more important for the protagonist to fit the spectacle of the story itself, rather than the audience's expectations."
For a moment, Fred just gawks at him, because holy crap, the kid can sound absolutely smug when he wants to. Hiro eventually frowns. "What?"
He says out loud, "Sometimes I forget how smart you are, dude," but in his mind he's saying that's like the way I think, because it's always been both, it's always about how they're larger-than-life and somehow human in the best/worst ways-
And they can overcome anything, and it's all incredible and dazzling like you're in a dream, because it's another world where the rules are different and you don't have to worry about everything making perfect sense- and you don't have to worry about the shit that's going on in your own life-
But sometimes you find the one where you can relate, where someone has something awful that they can't control, something they don't know how to fix-
And sometimes-
-they're the villain.
He snaps out of his thoughts, and shoves both sides away- the one saying it's awesome to be having this conversation with someone who cares about this stuff, and the other saying this is wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong- and raises an eyebrow at Hiro. "Well, maybe it's both, right? And that's why people like them so much. Because we see people doing crazy, awesome stuff, and- and maybe if we feel like they're like us, then-"
He might be imagining it, but it looks like Hiro's eyes light up. "Then we feel like we can do those things, too," he finishes with a slight grin. "That's… pretty cool. I didn't really think of that."
Something about the way he says it, genuine and eager and child-like you're losing it, stop it, stop thinking about it, you're going insane makes him pause, and he rubs at his forehead again, taking the opportunity to close his eyes and take a breath.
But another thought jumps out, and it's Hiro's messy hair and cut-lip-smile what do you want, what is it you really want and suddenly he wishes he could be there for him, to protect him and care about him and hold him and-
And-
And a pang of disgust rocks his core, and his head hurts, and his knees feel like they're going to give out any second.
Too late, now you're thinking of something worse, something dangerous, something that ends in nightmares and news reports and doors that slam shut on prison cells
"Holy shit!"
The blurted expletive makes him look up. "Sorry, that was- sorry," Hiro stammers. "Holy crap." He's not in the same place as before; he's moved on from the display cases and bookshelves, and now he's by… the… computer. Fred's breath catches.
He's a Hamada. He absolutely, unequivocally knows computers. And if there's even the slightest chance he might find what's been on that screen- what Fred's been reading, what he's been doing with his time-
"Dude, I- where'd you even get this?" Hiro examines every corner of the computer, practically vibrating with energy. "I've only heard about this model. It must have just come out this year, and I bet it's crazy expensive, but I guess that's not really a problem for you, huh? Man, I can't believe you have one of these. It looks like it should be in the freaking Pentagon. Can I-"
"No!"
…
Fred stops. His yell is still echoing off the walls of the den, or at least it seems like it is. Hiro's caught off-guard, looking up at him from the other end of the room, eyes wide and mouth slightly open- young, hurt, beat-up, still angry with his family and scared-
And maybe this is the moment. Maybe right now, he breaks down, and there's no way he can play it off as a joke or 'no big deal', and right here right now Hiro realizes something's wrong, and he leaves, he catches a tram and goes home where he should have gone hours ago and Fred stops lying and stops pretending and maybe right now right now right now everything gets better.
…
It's like his mind hijacks itself. He's the funny guy, after all.
…
And he knows he can get Hiro to laugh. He knows he can come up with one more lie that works.
"Nuclear launch codes," he says offhand. "Pentagon, remember? If you see them, I might actually have to kill you. Sorry, dude."
Hiro laughs, and the thing that scares Fred- the thing that sends a jolt of panic straight through to his spine- is the warm, almost giddy feeling that laugh brings.
He's not okay. He's not normal; he's trying too hard, and if any of the others were here, they'd know he's being too silly, and they'd know something's wrong. Hiro doesn't. So when Hiro grins, when he laughs, it's- it's different. It's doing something, it's messing him up, it's cute-
And Fred knows what he wants. It's the stories on his computer, the heat rising in his face, the tension in his body and his thoughts. Faster than he can stop himself, he speaks.
"Hey, Hiro."
Stuck in a dream. Stuck in a nightmare. Stuck in a dream.
"Yeah?"
Mind spinning, out of control like a man falling off a cliff, jumping back and forth from what's real and what's not and what's driving him insane.
Fred hears himself saying it, like a recorded voice. Slowly. Haltingly. "Do you ever…"
This is how the script goes. This is how the story goes. Stuck in a dream.
It's destiny, right?
Hiro's frowning. "Ever what?"
Falling off a cliff-
He breathes out, loudly, and it's an ugly and awkward sound but he covers it up with a cough and brings his hand to his forehead- harsh, almost like a slap, like he's trying to hurt, trying to focus on something other than whatever he was about to say, and he shakes his head a few times, because if he doesn't think about it, maybe it won't jump out of him and ruin everything.
Hiro's still looking at him.
…
He can't focus. He can't think.
…
Well? What were you gonna say?
He's waiting.