Notes:

Is this fic in line with the series? Maybe. Was rewriting a vast majority of this chapter so close to midnight worth it? Also maybe.


Tadashi did not want the future to look like this.

First of all, he completely lost. He was blocks away from Sato's Garage, far beyond San Fransokyo's city limits. He tried to make his way back before nightfall, only to forget where he was. Tadashi's memory fried both literally and figuratively.

The night after the accident was a blur of hospital hallways and medically-induced comas. When he woke up, he barely managed to remember his age; let alone his name. The vivid memory of leaving the hospital was even more traumatizing than the flashing images of being inside a burning building.

"Usually, amnesiac patients recover their memories in time," the doctor-whose-name-he-kept-forgetting repeated for the thousandth time. "You remember your parents' names. Maybe there's a distant relative somewhere?" Every search and interrogation yielded nothing in return.

Tadashi knew his parents died long before the accident. For a while, he figured it was just him.

Hours of daylight were wasted as he tried to find his way back. The only productive thing he managed to do was snag a worn hoodie from a thrift store located not far from the pier. And, even that was minimal.

Tadashi looked at himself through a glass windowpane of a clothes shop.

Scars from the accident still colored his arms and neck. Some still lingered in patches across his face. His hair was, well, short enough to look clean. It grew into a tangled mop he barely managed to control. The 'new' hoodie accentuated the fact that he was out of his element.

On the bright side, bits and pieces stuck.

Bot fights, his night in jail, Mochi's hover boots, and his parents were one thing. Other memories like what he had for dinner or if he even had dinner, and Aunt Cass' famous, uh, lasagna, um, thing afterward was another. At this point, he was simply trying to get by.

Granted, stealing a sweater was not his brightest idea. Tadashi was mentally apologizing and imagining more jail time. His life after the accident was riddled with a deepened sense of guilt and unanswered questions.

But it was fine. It was all okay that Tadashi didn't have a name or a family to accompany him for the first few months afterward.

He didn't have to cause an uproar after coming-to several months afterward or have to explain why he was gone, and he never had to see the reaction on his little brother's face when trouble surrounded him on an occasional basis. Everything was peachy.

Still, the pros outweighed the cons, right? He wasn't completely lost.

He was off the pier. He could manage to make it back to Sato's. And memories of Aunt Cass and Hiro returned in time.

He debated showing up again in front of the cafe. What would they say? Did they miss him? Or had they already grieved his death?

No, no, he couldn't think about that. Remembering made things worse.

A familiar cramp popped up on his side. He pushed it down and tried to put pressure on it. Spasms; just great.

He moved away from the window and tried to walk back towards the industrial sector. The garage suites always provided cover. It would be his place for the night.

However, the twinge in his side locked him in place. Tadashi fell to his knees with a gasp.

He never allowed his inner turmoil to take over for the past week. Tadashi swore off the very thing that prevented him from calling quits on wandering the city alone. Still, he shoved the burning feeling down.

Weeks of unrest and battling himself both physically and mentally took their toll. Tadashi pushed down a pressure that was building throughout him. Tonight was not his night and the empty streets weren't helping.

Pyrokinesis, out of all the side-effects he could have had, it was pyrokinesis. It was Day 7 without releasing any tension. He was not going to use fire-related anything; not until he had to.

And yeah, he swore it off several times after he departed from the hospital. It was less intense then. Now, he was avoiding setting his entire person on fire regularly. The cramp intensified.

Deep down, he knew he was wrong for staying away. Yet here he was in a foreign, nearby county; the furthest from home he could manage.

As much as a warm bed sounded nice, it wasn't a good idea. Flashbacks to close calls in hospital rooms and motels were practically engraved in his brain. Safety was his number one priority, after all.

So, he swore to follow three rules until they no longer worked.

One: Don't get trapped in a small room.

A dormant feeling of anxiety consumed him every time he felt a twinge or a spasm. His emotional state worsened the cozier the room appeared. It was a reminder of his lack of control.

That led to Rule Number Two: Don't be caught off guard.

For the longest, Tadashi found himself unable to think clearly. Reasoning and finding a solution was easiest under pressure, especially before the accident. Yet, the constant drone of trying to solve long-term problems was more tedious than he recalled. He couldn't imagine things beyond the worst possible outcome. He tried to find a better angle, a new perspective. The pit in his stomach and the flashes of the past's mistakes stopped him in his tracks. The best thing he could do was to avoid trouble.

A stolen hoodie toed that line.

And three: Going back to normal was not an option.

His memories did come back, albeit slowly and in fragments. He remembered home and the comfort that came with it. Yet with names came information.

The Lucky Cat Cafe. Aunt Cass and Hiro were his family. Tadashi Hamada was his name. He was still missing pieces, but he knew enough. He was a former robotics student.

Hiro was trouble. Aunt Cass was chaotic. However, it was home to him. Hiro was a good kid, Aunt Cass was their guardian, and Tadashi was… put together.

He was all about organization, staying out of trouble, and, of course, safety. He was active, loved, and his circumstances changed.

His old life was perfect. Pyrokinesis exacerbated the fact.

Tadashi wasn't going to come home, not yet. Not until he had everything under control. He wasn't going to put his old family in danger, even if it meant sacrificing his own future. He wanted to help. Showing up at the cafe, covered in flames and worrying about setting the house on fire, wasn't the best way to do that.

And fire. Why fire of all things?

He pulled the hoodie over his head. The smell of old cardboard boxes fused into the fabric made him cough.

Life was okay. Not great, but okay. The future was going to be better. Hope was all he had aside from some hard skills and his fragmented memory of engineering formulas. His newfound brain fog and stress ate at him in a way robotics projects and university homework never did. Tadashi just needed to get his life together. He was going to learn to restrain himself before he walked back to the cafe.

The spasm in his side pulsed again.

He managed to make his way near the edge of an alleyway. Tadashi pushed himself into a corner. His hands unfolded in his lap as flames coated his hands in seconds.

Achieving normal wasn't possible, not anymore. The twinge in his side eased. Yet as much as he tried, he couldn't contain the fire.

The aches in his body were fading as the flames grew in intensity. His eyes widened. He couldn't stop it from growing. Oh, great.

He shoved his hand underneath his new sweatshirt and held it down. Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!

The fire died out as his cramp returned in full force.

Well, at least his hoodie didn't smell like mildew and cardboard anymore. The edge of his sleeves was charred black as well as the inside. His inability to think through the anxiety was a twisted turn of events.

There were nights where he was tempted to walk into the Lucky Cat Cafe only to see it shrink in the distance. On a handful of occasions, he came up with an explanation and everything. He would knock on the front door, there would be confusion, anger, tears, and ultimately, Tadashi would be back home. He could handle the outrage and tears. He imagined Aunt Cass being a mess and Hiro more-so.

But what happened when he couldn't stay calm? When his emotions jumped out of line? What happened when he was the reason the house burned? They would relive the accident, together.

Normal wasn't just off-limits. It was an incredibly terrible idea.

Tadashi couldn't take the risk. The running, the hiding, and the long-term pain were all consequences of his decision.

So, a handful of months were spent without a name and in and out visits to motels and hospitals.

The old way of living was gone. Unless the sky fell, he would try to be whatever he was. No more overworked nights. No more be naive or childish. No more of the future he envisioned for himself. Tadashi really had died.

And Hiro. Honey Lemon. Aunt Cass and Mochi. Gogo, Fred, Wasabi, Professor Callaghan, everyone. They all moved on.

Several months after the accident and several months of being lost, Tadashi found himself awake in a different world.

He couldn't think, he couldn't move, and he would never dare to forget and leave it all behind. Tadashi stuck around San Fransokyo. However, he was no longer a part of it. He watched over Hiro, helped a few strangers, and tried his hardest to come to terms with who he became. He worked odd jobs for cash and sometimes lunch. He would simply try to be someone new.

And only then, would he return home. Nothing could change his mind.

So, a warm bed: in theory, it broke Rule #1 fair and square. Vetoed. Okay, warehouses were usually safe after hours. Avoid alleys, get off the street, and be somewhere where lights were always on.

The stability of a decent apartment or a part-time job was terrifying. It was almost funny how Tadashi was never this anxious about basic living standards before. The plan so far was to learn to control his newfound pyrokinesis and then settle down. He was nearly two years behind on that, but who was checking?

Tadashi's side was still throbbing. Holding his pyro in meant his physiology would combust under the stress soon.

New plan; he would take his time walking towards Sato's garage. The old man running the place knew Tadashi well enough to let him stay. He could rest there.

As soon as he rose to his feet, a man ran out of the alleyway next door. It was the street where Tadashi found his sweatshirt.

"You!" the man shouted, "I've got you on camera! I'm calling the cops!" Walking time was over. Tadashi forced himself to run.

He broke into a sprint while still clutching his side. The pain was near-searing; he could take it.

Tadashi never stated his rules would prevent him from getting into trouble. His pledge to never enter a public building was two years strong. A place like the police department was even more-so worth avoiding.

Running away from the guy who caught him stealing, though, was an all-time low for the former robotics student. Hiro would laugh at him and call him a hypocrite if he ever knew.

Tadashi jumped the alleyway fence. Memories of his Vespa flashed in his mind. He shoved them down. Sato's garage, just get to the garage. He never really got in this much trouble. Still, the worst of the worst managed to total up into one night.

He ran until he nearly slammed into the concrete.

Tadashi was panting and hunched over his knees several blocks away. He looked up to an empty street. The sweatshirt guy was nowhere to be found.

Tadashi let out a quiet laugh and relaxed. The good news was that… he ran in the opposite direction. He must've made a wrong turn. Sato's was further than he anticipated.

New-new plan, go towards warehouses and the shipyard instead. He wasn't far.

KreiTech's warehouse usually was unguarded when the industrial lights were off. Tadashi made his way towards the storage unit, unaware of the candy-red robot flying overhead.

"Okay," Hiro said while riding atop Baymax's back, "Krei's blueprints are officially citywide-destruction bad. As long as his warehouse is empty, then there's nothing to worry about. Right?" Baymax didn't reply. He learned about rhetorical questions. Hiro hoped there would at least be something inside. Anything. "Let's make it quick."

Baymax followed their makeshift protocol. He was on the lookout while Hiro investigated. He just needed to make sure Krei was doing this before he seriously decided to pursue the project.

It was well past 8 o'clock. Aunt Cass would be fuming. Hiro rolled his eyes. Silent Sparrow threatened to make a comeback. His curfew could wait.

Baymax landed on the roof of the warehouse as Hiro jumped off.

"Your scans indicate you are in emotional distress," Baymax said.

"Uh, yeah. Krei always makes dumb decisions, but not this dumb. He's innovating the most complicated project he's ever sponsored. And they didn't even finish the first version!" Baymax cocked his head.

"The distress is not caused by Alastair Krei." Hiro turned.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I mean, it's just the anniversary, Baymax. It's normal to feel not-so-great."

"I am aware of the matter. Your schedule proves overwhelming. Tadashi is h-"

"I know," Hiro cut in. He didn't want to burst into tears while on-mission. "Here in my memories, kind of way. I got it, Baymax. Thanks." He was getting really tired of his robot randomly spewing the statement for several days and then going silent for months.

'Tadashi is here' was the phrase Baymax used when the world became too much to handle. It was comforting. And like the prodding, it was nice until it wasn't.

Hiro made his way inside via the rooftop stairwell as Baymax followed. Tadashi didn't notice them as he made his way around the perimeter.

Any of the warehouses could work as a rest stop. Tadashi just needed to double-check for security guards, and then he could call it a night.

He looked at his hands again. His body was aching less; that was good news. As for the bad news, well.

Flames surrounded his hands. Tadashi sighed as he leaned against the wall and slid down onto the ground. Everything sucked.

It was stupid how much he couldn't manage his own strength. The heat from his palms charred the edges of his sweatshirt more. Things would be worse if his family knew how much he struggled. It was all too much.

Instead of continuing to think his life over, he simply curled up, put his head down, and slumped his arms across his knees. He let the flames continue to burn as he finally let all of the tension go. Burn holes formed in his jeans. Tadashi didn't care. He tried to keep his eyes closed for as long as he could.

Several minutes passed before Tadashi heard several metal pipes fall over. He shot up, sleep mere seconds away. So much for checking for security.

His few minutes of peace were quickly interrupted by the sound of the industrial lights flickering on. A metal click echoed behind him. Tadashi turned to look. Another metal reverb, clink, clink. Someone was inside.

Tadashi broke into another sprint, this time fueled by his fears. That couldn't be the sweatshirt guy. The sound of heavy boots was trailing close behind him. He just wanted a night off.

"...we're just checking his inventory…." were the only words he heard before freezing in place. He knew that voice. Maybe security was out tonight. What were the chances of recognizing one of the guards, though? The ache in his side threatened to give way. Tadashi kept his composure and ran.

Think, hiding spot. Find a hiding spot.

He ducked behind the large, industrial boxcar that had Krei's name plastered on the side. The metal shoes inched closer. Tadashi lowered himself into the shadows. He needed to leave.

He maneuvered his way towards an exit. He just had to make it to the open doorway in time. The metal shoes stopped.

"I detect signs of life," echoed throughout the warehouse. Tadashi stopped. That couldn't be.

He peered out from behind a crate only to see a giant, red robot decked out in armor. He was aware of Big Hero 6, but not familiar.

No time to think it over. Tadashi had a new-new-new plan: Get out.

He made a break for the door. The robot locked onto him. "There," it pointed.

"Hey!" someone yelled. Tadashi managed to climb over the fence half an hour earlier. The side cramp's triumphant return made the same feat nearly impossible. He took cover in a tight crevice between the boxcars. "Wait! Stop!"

Tadashi didn't listen. He was still trying to run.

The industrial lights faded the further he escaped. Tadashi was covered by the dark of night.

The sound of the metal shoes stopped and exchanged for the sound of rocket launchers. Whatever security alarm Tadashi set off, he instantly regretted.

A projectile shot out towards him. The last of his tiredness was eradicated. The metal structure lining the crevice directly behind him was mauled. So much for an escape plan; he was trapped.

Tadashi was trying his hardest to avoid using pyrokinesis; he really was. One event after another was totally screwing with his plan to have a good night's rest.

The giant, red robot was now hovering in front of him.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," he yelled. "I'll be out of your hair from now on." The robot didn't reply. It was recalibrating its cameras or something. Another set of footsteps raced closer.

Tadashi took off into another tight cranny. The robot flew overhead.

"Hey! Wait!" he heard the other person yell.

Tadashi nearly tripped as he slipped out from behind another crate. He flailed his arms as fire engulfed his hands. Not now. Please, not now, he thought. Tadashi grunted as he stumbled forward.

Great. Just fantastic. Okay, goals! Let's review goals for tonight: Avoid getting caught, and try not to burn his sleeves to a crisp. That was easier said than done.

Tadashi ducked down and took in as much of his surroundings as possible. Think, think, think, think! What could he use as a defense?

Before he could come up with a solution, a rocket from above collided with the boxcar behind him.

The robot appeared over him in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Tadashi tried to regain his train of thought. He needed to run from a rocket-launching security system. That was new.

The robot grabbed him by the hood. He propped Tadashi up as his eyes widened.

"Okay! Okay! Okay! What do you want, man? The hoodie?" Tadashi asked, hands up. "I won't hurt you."

"Tadashi," the robot repeated.

"Um, yes?"

"Tadashi."

"Pretty sure that's me?"

Tadashi wondered if the break in the alleyway was the moment his secret escaped. If the sweatshirt guy recorded him, who else knew about his misdeeds? And he answered to his name. If the robot was going to call the cops, he just gave them a lead. Amateur.

The ache in his side pulsed again. No fire came out this time. His body was exhausted from the running. Again, not his ideal night.

The robot brought him back into the light and dropped him. Tadashi attempted to throw the hoodie over his head, keeping some semblance of his identity secret. The hood slipped down by the time he turned back to look at who was attacking him.

A matching purple suit inched its way closer to him. A person in scraped up armor now stood by the robot's side. A purple visor blocked his vision of who or what could be inside.

Tadashi tensed up. San Fransokyo's vigilante team of superheroes was not on his list of people he expected to meet tonight. Then, the visor flipped open.

He didn't plan on seeing a familiar mop of hair and armored… Baymax? An awkward, half-smile unintentionally grew on his face. Seeing Hiro alive and well was all he could ask. Maybe there was an opportunity to go home, to be normal again.

Yet Tadashi was aware of why he was running. Returning home was not an option.

The thought barely crossed his mind before he saw the slack-jawed expression on Hiro's face. He could see the tears and anger rising in his now 16-year-old little brother.

A spike of adrenaline coursed through him. The years of running away were over. However, that meant he had to come to terms with the trauma, the change, and the inability to make the future safer.

And his rules he lived by for the past couple of years. They were going to be broken if Hiro was still as stubborn as he remembered. Pyrokinesis was an inevitable dilemma they were all going to face.

Maybe he could run again.

The ache in his side simmered. Bad idea. He would hold off his pyro for as long as he could. He had to.

But no running? No hiding? Going home?

This was not good. Definitely not good. Tadashi couldn't disguise his pyrokinesis in forever. What was he supposed to do? Run. Freeze. Say something.

Hiro couldn't process what was going on. He was glued to the ground and could only stare at what he believed was someone who simply looked like Tadashi. There was still a chance it wasn't him. It was a trick of the light or something, a projection maybe.

Obake's visual trick flashed in his head. Hiro indulged in having his brother back. He even talked with him. But he knew it was only that, an illusion.

Then, the stranger spoke.

"Hey." There was no doubt; that was Tadashi's voice. He sounded exhausted. The millions of thoughts racing through Hiro's head finally stopped for a brief moment as he felt tears roll down his cheeks. No witty dialogue or clever one-liners. Tadashi stood in the flesh as Hiro's world came crashing down.


Notes:

Can I offer you some angst in these trying times? Because dude. DUDE. . This chapter is 3,700+ words. The original goal was 2K. This whole update just needed to get revised. I think even now it needs to be trimmed down.

Thanks to Google Docs for not crashing. I've got several chapters on the same doc mapped out. That doesn't include the notes, comments and edit marks I throw in there, heh. Fingers crossed.

One thing I wanted to see specifically happen in this fic was for Tadashi to *choose* to stay away. What happens when Mr. Perfect over here makes mistakes that are beyond academics? (The answer is drama.) :)

Aunt Cass and co. will come in as the chapters progress.