hello friends!

here is chapter three, i hope you enjoy it! we'll see how this story turns out...i might have to split it into two fics! hopefully it'll be awesone!

pllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllz people review, i would love to hear your feedback!

thanks!

peace out!

—HIRO—

The sun strains to peek through the smoky, dusty sky, its weak rays barely penetrating the skylights. Whatever I might have thought yesterday, dawn has come. It's not the end of the world.

It takes me a moment to remember that I'm not in my bed. I'm curled on my side on the hard thermodynamics classroom floor, using Baymax's arm as a pillow. Every ache in my body has been amplified, protesting against sleeping on the floor, and I'm sore beyond belief.

I stand up and stumble down the hall to the bathroom, exhausted even though I've just slept for what must be nine or ten hours. After relieving myself, I stare at my depressing reflection in the mirror.

The gauze on my cheek is definitely not sterile anymore—it's stained with dirt and blood, as is most of the rest of my body. My shirt can barely be called an article of clothing—it's torn up all over and absolutely filthy. My black capris look a little better, but I really need to change soon. Add all of this to my cuts and bruises and my dusty rat's nest of hair, and I look like an absolute wreck.

Wanting to clean myself up a little, I wash my hands thoroughly and then splash some water on my face, trying to clean the gash on my cheek out—I don't want it to get infected. What I really need is a shower, but I don't know if we have one of those in SFIT. There's gotta be one down by the gym or something. Wait, does this school even have a gym?

I limp down the stairs, my injured ankle protesting so much movement, and head in search of a shower. It takes several minutes, but I eventually discover a maintenance closet—which definitely isn't supposed to be used for humans, but it's water that can wash my whole body, so I'll take it.

I peel off my filthy clothes and take the coldest, fastest shower of my life, then put them back on, shivering. Whatever housing the North Koreans are building for us, I hope it has hot showers.

Creeping back up the stairs, I head back to the thermodynamics classroom. I smile as I step into the room and see Tadashi using Baymax's leg as a pillow, and Megan passed out on the robot's arm. Baymax makes a great makeshift bed.

Crossing the room, I snuggle back into the crook of Baymax's arm, still tired. Baymax, seeming to sense me, heats up, surrounding me with warmth.

I stay there for a long time, until Tadashi wakes up. He sits up with a yawn, then rubs his eyes. "Hey, Hiro. How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess. But I don't feel like I slept at all."

Tadashi sighs. "Me neither. But we're gonna have to get used to it."

At that moment, Meg awakens. She stares at me for a few moments, then says, "Did you take a shower?"

"Is that so unusual?" I sigh, then laugh. "Yeah, I did. Found a maintenance closet downstairs—it's freezing, but it's a shower. I don't know what they use it for—probably for washing equipment."

"As soon as you lay out the details of this plan you have, I'm going to go take a shower."

I cross the room again and lock the door. All the little kids have taken up residence in the cafeteria and teachers' lounge, scavenging whatever food they can find, so they probably won't bother us—but still, I don't want to be overheard.

"Is this plan going to be dangerous?" Tadashi asks as we sit down in a small circle—well, a square, really, since there's four of us. "I don't want any of you getting hurt."

"Only slightly," I admit. "But it's really not that bad, Dashi. I'm going to go down to my lab and start rebuilding Baymax's armor. When I'm done, we'll break the skylight and just fly out. The North Koreans can't possibly catch us if we do that."

"I can already see gaping holes in this plan," Megan says immediately. "How are we going to break the skylight without raining glass down on everyone? And won't the North Koreans just shoot us down?"

"I hadn't got to the skylight part," I admit, "and I hoped maybe their guns wouldn't reach that far."

Baymax chimes in. "My scanner shows that the weapons around this school are not capable of long-range shooting. We would simply need to fly as fast as possible away from SFIT so that they cannot reach us."

"But what will happen to the kids?" Tadashi asks urgently. "What if the North Koreans take it out on them when we escape? We can't just leave them behind!"

"That's the whole point," I tell him. "We need to break our team and the police out of prison so we can storm SFIT and take it back. We can't take all these kids at once, so we're going to have to come back for them. I'm sorry, Dashi, but I can't see a way of getting them out before getting reinforcements."

Tadashi sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I know."

"They'll be okay," I murmur, putting a hand on my brother's shoulder. "Do you have any ideas for how to break the glass?"

"I have a rocket fist," Baymax points out. "Perhaps we could simply caution everyone to stand back and then fire it through the skylight. Or we could use a laser cutter to carve a hole, which may be quieter and less dangerous. There is a high probability of a laser cutter being located here in this school."

"That's actually a really good idea!" I exclaim, excited that this might work out. "I'll try to find a laser cutter."

"Glad we worked that out," Megan says. "I'm going to go find that maintenance closet and take a shower. Let me know if you find any soap, guys."

"We'll be in my lab," I call out as she leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

I look round the thermodynamics room for a laser cutter but find none—there's probably one down in wood shop, though. For now, we'll head to my lab so we can start rebuilding Baymax's armor.

"You think of everything," Tadashi tells me as we walk down the hall toward my lab. "We'll be out of here in no time."

"Don't thank me just yet," I mumble. "It might not work. Even if we fly straight up so they can't fire at us, they still might ambush us coming down. There's obviously gonna be risks."

"Well, of course," Tadashi agrees, "but it's also got a very good chance of working. Don't worry."

"Hiro," Baymax cuts in. "My scan shows that you are experiencing hunger."

I assess myself and realize that I am indeed hungry. I haven't been thinking about it, but…I haven't eaten for at least twenty-four hours. I'm a long way from starving, but it's causing me to feel a little shaky.

"Do you think the North Koreans will give us food?" Tadashi asks. "I mean, they wouldn't just let little kids starve, would they?"

"I do not know," Baymax tells him. "We can ask them if we wish."

Rather than risk talking to people, Tadashi sneaks down to the cafeteria while Baymax and I continue on to my lab. When we reach it, I take my ID out of my pocket—thank goodness I always carry it just in case—and swipe in.

The room is fairly intact, with only a little of the roof having fallen in and just one large crack running through the glass of the window. It could have been worse, I guess.

Upon further inspection, I still have enough carbon fiber, Plexiglas, and paint left to build Baymax a new set of armor. If I'm lucky, I can reconstruct my breastplate and gauntlets, too. I really need to stock up on supplies, though—I'm starting to lose track of how many times I've had to build new pieces of armor.

Immediately, I start reprinting, even upgrading the designs. I want Baymax to be as prepared as possible, so I add secret compartments, hidden thrusters, giant collapsible shields, fold-out grips and seats for transporting other people. I'm eating away my supplies, but I need Baymax to be the ultimate escape vehicle.

I'm working on the helmet when Tadashi comes back into the room with three donuts. He sets two—one of them is probably for Meg—down on my desk and watches as I weld the carbon fiber together.

"Do you need any help?" Tadashi asks as I pull my welder's hood up.

"I just need more supplies," I tell him. "These might not be enough—I'm upgrading Baymax's armor design. And if you could find a bottle of water, that would be nice."

"Awesome! I can go look in the communal lab."

Tadashi leaves again, and I lean back and eat my donut. Megan enters the room just as I finish, snatching up the other pastry and devouring it in three bites.

"How's it going?" she asks, swallowing.

"Not bad," I reply, setting down the welding torch. "We just need to hope the North Koreans don't find out about this—I'm not sure they know how powerful Baymax actually is."

Meg nods. "We'll have to do it soon—we all got food from the cafeteria today, but they might come in to bring more, or they might put anyone who's escaped them for the time being in here. They might even come to take us out and put us in whatever new houses they're building."

"Yup. So I'm working as fast as humanly possible."

I might be working a little too fast, because Baymax informs me that I need to take my asthma medication. I pull out my inhaler and take a draft, sighing in relief as my chest loosens. I didn't even realize I was short of breath—I was hyperfocusing on Baymax's armor.

Tadashi returns to the lab a few minutes later, bearing an armful of carbon fiber, scrap metal, and a water bottle. I give him a nod of thanks and keep welding, sawing, printing.

It only takes me until sundown to finish all the armor. I'm exhausted and still hungry, but nothing diminishes my pride as I set the new armor on my desk and step back, admiring my work. It looks the same as the old armor, but there are so many hidden upgrades—the North Koreans will never see this coming. Heck, even the rest of my team won't see this coming.

"Wow," Tadashi says softly. "I'm impressed, Hiro. You did that so fast."

"Yeah," Meg agrees. "When do you want to break out?"

I open my mouth to answer "now," but a loud voice echoes through the school, evidently amplified by some means.

"All of you come out! We do not want to hurt you. You are to be transported to your new homes, where you will be provided sufficient facilities and sustenance."

"They're taking us out!" Tadashi whisper-shouts, even though the North Koreans probably can't hear us. "We're leaving!"

"Baymax—" I start, but there's a tremendous bang and the door bursts open.

"Everyone out!" yells the North Korean soldier. "Get outside and follow the soldiers to the ghetto!"

His English is really good—he's probably a high-ranking officer. I don't think they'd teach the privates a lot of English.

We all leave the room hastily. I look forlornly back at my lab, wondering if I'll ever see it again.

Outside, we join a long line of kids and teenagers heading across the city, walking toward what looks like one of the slums of San Fransokyo—sketchy places where it looks like everyone wants to hurt you. Places like Good Luck Alley.

"Stop," says the officer crisply, flinging out an arm in front of Tadashi. Megan and I skid to a halt, nearly knocking my brother over.

"You have a robot. The vigilantes' robot," the man says. "How did it come to be here?"

"We found it hidden in the thermodynamics classroom, sir," Tadashi tells him, desperately trying to keep a straight face. "I'd heard it was a medical robot and thought it could help me treat injured children."

"You should have turned it in to us immediately," the officer snarls. For the first time, I see the name embroidered over his breast pocket—Hyun. But my attention is pulled away from that fact when the officer slaps Tadashi in the face and then shoves him forcefully to the ground. Two other North Koreans begin to pull Baymax away.

I see red. Instantly, I launch myself at Hyun. He hurt my brother, and now he's taking away one of my best friends.

The officer snarls and throws me to the ground, and his heavy boot collides with my ribs a few seconds later, and I yelp. "Do not fight, boy! I am finished punishing him!"

He kicks me again, and Megan has suddenly leaped forward, thrusting her fist into Hyun's face and then kneeing him in the man parts. The officer lets out a rather unmanly howl and doubles over, panting. Meg then barrels into one of the officers hauling off Baymax, punching and kicking every inch of the man she can reach. I drag myself to my feet, winded, and engage in combat with the other officer.

"Stop, you guys!" Tadashi wails, but Megan and I will stop at nothing to get Baymax back. "Stop it!"

The North Korean I'm fighting throws a punch at my face, and I stumble backwards with the force of the blow. This enables Tadashi to grab my collar, and he keeps me in a tight grip as he wrestles Meg away from her opponent.

Hyun straightens up, still looking a little winded. Even clutching my ribs where he kicked me, I feel a fierce stab of satisfaction—Meg is a brilliant fighter.

"I should send those delinquents to prison for this!" he barks at Tadashi.

"We're leaving!" Tadashi shouts, his voice shaking as if he's about to cry. "I'm so sorry, sir, please let me take them home! We won't cause any more trouble like this, I promise!"

Hyun gives a jerk of the head to the other officers, who resume dragging Baymax away, and then looks back at Tadashi. "Fine, kid. Follow the others. But mark my words—next time, they're getting sent straight to a POW camp. No more warnings. Go!"

Tadashi, still looking like he might cry, steers Megan and I back into the flow of people. As soon as Hyun is out of sight, I hiss, "What was that for? We could have stopped them!"

"I didn't want you guys to get hurt!" Tadashi defends. "Hiro, they would have beat you to a pulp! You can't afford to get hurt if this is anything like World War Two—they might ration our food, they might force us to work for them! You need your strength, both of you, and you know I care about you—I just—" He sighs, his voice quavering, his grip on our collars loosening. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

All the anger drains out of me. I wasn't paying attention before, but Tadashi's cheek is bright red and there are smudges of dirt on his jawline—it must have happened when he got slapped and then pushed to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Dashi," I mumble, and I hear Megan say the same thing. "Are you okay?" I add.

"I'm fine," Tadashi breathes, turning his attention to us. "But what about you guys? You put up a good fight, but they were a lot bigger than you."

After I tell Tadashi I'm fine, I realize only now that, apart from my aching ribs, my lip is bleeding and my still-injured ankle is throbbing. I attempt to stem the flow of blood with my shirt, which works, but now it's stained with blood as well as dust and soot. Great.

Looking over at Megan, I can see that her eye is swelling up, and her chin is bleeding. It doesn't detract from her beauty—if anything, she looks more fierce, a seasoned survivor of battle.

Lost in thought, I don't even realize it when we go through a gate and come to a stop in the middle of one of the slums of San Fransokyo. Actually, it's less of a slum and more of a shantytown, with houses cobbled together out of scrap metal and wood. The little group of shacks is surrounded by a massive, thick stone wall with exactly one gate—the one we came through. The wall is topped with barbed wire—no chance of escaping there.

"This is your new home!" shouts a woman at the front of the crowd, so decorated that I think she must be the leader of this particular battalion overseeing us, or maybe even of the whole army. "You will work for North Korea here, and if you are useful, we may even offer you extra rations. You will build weapons for our country, and those too young to work will be raised here until they can. We will now show you to your homes, and be ready at six in the morning for roll call."

She must see the terrified looks on some of the children's faces, because she laughs and says, "It is not what you think. We are not like the Nazis, content to kill because you fail to perform some menial task. No, we need our workers alive and well, and we will do everything we can to keep you that way—unless America fights back, in which case you will make excellent hostages. We will see you all in the morning."

"Doesn't seem as bad as World War Two," I whisper to Tadashi. "They don't sound as bad as the Nazis."

"I know they don't," Tadashi murmurs, looking up at the millions of stars twinkling above us. "But I'm afraid they might be worse."

—FRED—

I've fallen into an uneasy doze, my arm in a makeshift sling made of my undershirt, when the door of the cell next to us bangs open. Several North Korean soldiers, led by the intimidating woman from earlier, thrust a prisoner into the tiny room. My eyes widen as I realize who it is.

President Diego Cruz kneels on the floor, his face bruised and his police uniform torn. After all his time as president, he still wears his officer uniform.

"You have no power anymore," the woman hisses at the president after slamming the door. "It won't be long until we have the whole country, and then we will kill you."

"I have no fear of death," President Cruz says bravely, standing up even though it looks painful. "And you may take America's land, but you will never take its spirit."

"We shall see, Chief. We shall see."

The woman and her squadron depart.

"Chief—President?" Honey whispers. "Are you okay?"

President Cruz looks up, and his eyes flit to our armor, discarded in a pile in the corner of our cell. "Big Hero 6?"

"Yes," Honey tells him. "We have to get out of here! Are you badly hurt?"

"I don't think so," the president replies. "Only bruised. But what about you four? And where's Hiro and Baymax? Megan left to go find Hiro, but I haven't seen her for over a day."

"We haven't seen Hiro and Baymax for even longer," Honey replies sadly.

"Got any ideas for getting out of here?" Wasabi asks, the pain of his broken ribs alleviated somewhat by the Advil. "We haven't come up with anything."

"And you know the jail," I add. "We can stage a daring escape where you sneak the keys from the guards and then I pull the bars from the door with my heroic strength—"

"Or we could shut up and actually discuss a good plan," GoGo suggests. "You don't have super strength. But stealing the keys might actually work, I guess."

"But we can't get to the keys," President Cruz says despairingly. "Of course I know where they're kept, but there's no way to get to them. We'd have to convince someone else to retrieve them."

"What if we built a robot with the parts of our suits?" Honey asks. "Maybe we could program it to steal the keys and get us out."

"But we don't have any tools for that," Wasabi reminds her. "And besides, even if we do manage to get out of the cells, this building is most likely surrounded by armed North Koreans with large guns."

"Sorry, you guys," President Cruz says. "I don't think there's a way out. We've just got to wait—and pray that Hiro and Megan got away."

"And Tadashi," Honey says softly, and then we fall into silence.

Later that night, I gaze out the window at the bright, distant stars, wondering if Hiro, Tadashi, and Megan can see them too. The pinpricks of light glitter over the destroyed city, and only a few artificial lights shine in the distance. I've always loved the stars—I think they're beautiful, but I'd trade not being able to see them for our city being whole again.

My collarbone twinges as I shift my position on the windowsill, and I wince. But my mind immediately goes to my friends, injured and imprisoned. I have to help them get out of here if it's the last thing I do—but I haven't thought of a way yet.

Whatever. I can do this. We can do this. We just need to work together to take back San Fransokyo.

Big Hero 6 may be separated, but we are all looking up at the same stars.