(Quick note: This is the sequel to When Stars Collide. It would help if you read that one first. Yes, the Doctor will be in this story, eventually. But this focuses primarily on Hiro. Warning: Major Character Death. Continue at your own risk.)
The first thing that registered in Hiro's mind was the pain. He gasped as his chest seemed to explode, pain ripping through his entire body as he flew backwards, his arms and legs flying out behind him, like they couldn't quite keep up with the rest of him. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. This wasn't how they were supposed to go at all. How had it gone so wrong?
"Hiro!"
He gasped, choking on his own blood, unable to keep the gurgling cough at bay. How had this happened? Why did the world seem so dark? His eyes were so heavy. Why were they so heavy? And why did the air feel so thick? Why couldn't he focus?
Footsteps sounded in his ears, stopping abruptly. The momentary silence was followed by the sound of shuffling, rustling fabric. How could he hear all that and not be able to see or breathe?
"Come on, buddy. Don't do this to us."
Was that Fred speaking? He wasn't sure. His body felt so heavy. He could feel the life draining from the hole in his chest. Who had shot him again? Oh yeah, that one guy who'd threatened to blow up the hospital. Why hadn't he made his suit more bulletproof? There were obviously parts that needed some serious attention in that area.
Hiro reached out a hand, his vision swimming as he tried to open his eyes. Was this what it felt like to die? Part of him felt completely at peace with the idea, while another part of him struggled against the shock his body was going into. Why did it have to hurt so much?
"Come on, Hiro! Wake up!"
He felt a slap to his face but couldn't respond. His mind was in turmoil, the voices growing fainter as his energy drained. This was not supposed to happen. Things weren't supposed to happen like this. Why had it happened again?
He gave up trying to open his eyes, not liking the dizzying images he'd seen through the slits. It was so hard to breathe. Something liquid gurgled up in his chest.
Who was he again? Hiro. His name was Hiro. Hiro Hamada.
"Come on! Breathe!"
But he couldn't breathe as liquid filled his lungs. His mind seemed to spiral and shatter into a million pieces. His world continued to grow darker, his body dissolving into the floor beneath him, reminding him of the one time he'd fallen asleep on the beach, the waves silently creeping up on him.
"Hiro!"
Weakly, he tried to wave a hand to ward off the sudden feeling of pressure against his body but couldn't. His fingers barely left the ground. Was someone pushing on his chest? Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? Let him sink into the floor and become one with it?
Something forced his mouth open, tilting his head back as air forced its way down his throat. How many times had that happened? Once? Twice? Ten times? Maybe more. He couldn't remember. Maybe not being able to remember was a good thing. Then came the pressure on his chest again, pushing down, making his heart move, even if sluggishly.
Then his body convulsed and he was coughing, violently coughing up blood and who knew what else. Only it wasn't blood.
Hiro gasped and choked, more liquid spewing up from his lungs, lungs that burned like fire. It hurt. A lot. His fingers scraped the ground, fists filling with fine grit, though he had no idea where it had come from. Hadn't he just been shot? Wasn't he bleeding out on the hospital tiles? What was going on?
"It's okay. I've got you."
The coughing continued, but not as roughly as before. Most of the liquid had come up now and he felt someone turning him onto his left side. Why did it feel like he was lying in wet sand? There hadn't been any sand at the hospital. What was going on? Where was he? Had he moved? Or was he just dreaming, remembering that one time at the beach?
"I think he's coming around but we should still wait for the ambulance. I think he might have a concussion."
Who was that talking? The voice was vaguely familiar; though Hiro was sure he hadn't heard it in a long time. Who did that voice belong to again? His brain felt like someone had put it through the blender on the highest setting.
He opened his eyes just a crack. The light was blinding and he winced against the sudden brightness, groaning. Everything hurt, his chest, his arms, his legs, like he'd taken a tumble instead of getting shot. Oh, and his head hurt too, like someone had beaned him with a lead pipe or something similar. Throb. Throb. Throb. Why did it hurt so much?
"How did this happen?"
Hiro wondered the same thing. But wait. Wasn't that Aunt Cass asking the question? What was she doing there? She should be at the café, not anywhere near the hospital, let alone in the middle of Big Hero business.
"I didn't exactly see what happened," the familiar yet not familiar voice answered.
Hiro still couldn't see who was talking. His head was facing the wrong way for that. All he saw was a wide expanse of sand, with a low wavy line of bluish-green that seemed to keep moving, getting slightly larger than smaller.
Now he remembered. He'd made a wish, one unrealistic wish as he'd felt his lifeblood seeping from his body. And now, now he wasn't so sure his wish hadn't come true, because he was beginning to remember why that voice was so familiar. "T-tadashi," he croaked, regretting speaking the moment it was out of his mouth. His throat burned even saying just one word.
Hiro felt someone ruffle his hair lightly, almost as if they were afraid to be rough. Even that small amount of contact sent his head aching all over again. And it made him that much more dizzy.
"There he is," Tadashi smiled. Hiro could hear it in his tone. But how was that possible? Tadashi was dead. Unless he was dead too.
"Am I dead?" he asked before he could even think about what he was saying. There was definitely something wrong with the idea, though he wasn't entirely sure why just yet. He made to roll back over onto his back but something prevented him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tadashi said, firmly holding Hiro in place. "You took quite a tumble down the embankment and I'm not really sure what kind of damage you've done to yourself just yet. I wouldn't move too much if I were you."
Hiro managed to open his eyes further, realizing that just a short ways away sat a cement ramp leading down into the blue-green horizon. It took him a moment to realize that the blue line was actually moving water, probably the ocean.
Vague images of him stumbling over something at the top of the ramp filled his mind, along with the spinning sensation of rolling down the cement incline. He wanted to shake his head to clear the images but didn't dare move. "I don't feel so good," he groaned, his throat feeling like he'd swallowed fire then burped it back up.
"No duh, bonehead. You probably knocked your head a good couple of times, along with your arms and legs. It's unfortunate you ended up in the water after you lost consciousness. Good thing I know CPR."
Wait. Had Tadashi given him mouth-to-mouth? He shuddered at the idea. It was a silly thing to worry about, especially once he realized it was probably the only thing that had brought him back to life. The question remained though. Why was he at the ocean when, only moments before, he'd been at one of the area hospitals trying to negotiate with a madman with a gun and a bomb?
"Why... we... here?" He didn't dare try managing any more coherent sentences. Not with his brain feeling like mush. Even those three words made him ache even more. He suddenly felt more drained than he had first waking up.
Tadashi's sandaled feet came into view, probably having walked around Hiro's body. "We were all taking a day off," he explained as he settled onto the sand, a pair of Bermuda shorts covering his legs from the knees up.
Hiro blinked a few times, trying to determine if he was seeing things or if what his brain was processing was real. He hadn't seen his brother wearing any kind of swimwear since- well since they were kids, if he was being honest. He didn't know Tadashi owned such an item, let alone in such outlandish colors. It was almost painful to look at, nothing like he'd imagined his brother to wear. Why were there palm trees on the fabric?
"I closed the café for a day," Aunt Cass chimed in, still on Hiro's other side. And if he knew her, she was anxiously scanning the area above them for the expected emergency vehicle.
"Why....you do that?"
His question seemed to cause a tense moment of silence. Had he said something wrong? He could see Tadashi's calf muscles tense up, but only because he was looking right at them.
"We were trying for an intervention," Tadashi finally answered, a decided sigh in his voice. Apparently he was blaming himself for what had happened, though Hiro still wasn't sure what exactly had happened.
"An intervention? For what?" Speaking was become a bit easier, though it didn't hurt any less. He still didn't dare move, though; realizing one of his arms had been placed above his head, the other down by his side. What was that position called? Recovery, right?
Tadashi leaned forward, looking almost like he was going to give him a knuckle sandwich, but pulled back before making contact. "For you, knucklehead. You and your bot fighting."
Again, images filled Hiro's head. He was storming away from Tadashi, Aunt Cass trailing behind with that worried expression on her face. But he hadn't been in the mood to pay it much heed. Tadashi had crossed the line and he was decidedly upset about it. He just hadn't watched where he was going. And since he'd been moving at a rather fast pace, he hadn't been prepared for the rock that twisted under his foot, sending him careening down the cement slope.
"Oh," Hiro managed. He winced as he moved with the spoken word. One hand went to his head, invoking more pings and ripples of agony. But he hadn't been bot fighting, not for a long time. Not since Tadashi... It hurt too much to think about it.
The older Hamada leaned back as he sat down, his hands pushing against the sand as he propped himself in a semi-reclining position. "Obviously things didn't go quite as planned," he admitted.
The sound of sirens came from the distance, gradually growing louder as the emergency services requested came closer. Tadashi looked up sharply, returning to a more upright position. "Oh good. They're here."
Wait. What? Had they really called an ambulance? They weren't just joking about that? Hiro tried to surge to his feet but was almost immediately stopped by Tadashi lunging forward to keep him on the ground.
"Stop moving," his older brother ordered. "You're only going to make things worse. Please try not to be a baby about this, okay? You've got both Aunt Cass and me pretty worried. We just want to make sure you're okay. Okay?"
It took too much effort to resist so Hiro didn't end up putting up much of a struggle before flopping back down on the wet ground. He panted, the particles of saltwater still in his lungs irritating his bronchial tubes enough to bring on another coughing fit.
"What did I tell you?"
Hiro could hear the resigned yet worried tone in Tadashi's voice. Was it really all that bad? It was hard to tell, since he didn't seem able to catch a decent breath. Not even when he curled his legs up against his chest. He rolled into his back without thinking. No one seemed inclined to stop him this time.
Sand flew up as two paramedics entered the scene, kicking up the small particles in their hurry to reach their patient. Aunt Cass waved to direct them to the right location, calling out to them as she half ran to meet them.
In no time at all, Hiro felt another set of arms holding parts of his body while the other paramedic began checking his vitals. When he couldn't stop coughing, he felt an oxygen mask being slipped over his nose and mouth, which seemed to help. At least he didn't feel as short of breath with it forcing oxygen down his throat.
Between the poking and prodding, Hiro heard Tadashi give a hurried explanation of what had happened. His brother was concise in his report, giving details in an almost technical manner. It somehow reminded him of Baymax.
The image of soft vinyl filled Hiro's mind, the oval head looking a bit like a shrine bell. And those large arms that were great for giving hugs. A part of him ached for such a hug right at that moment. Instead, he tried to not wince as the sore spots on his body were prodded. He almost gagged when a neck brace was put in place, his head jarring at the motion.
And then the world moved as he was slid over onto the gurney. That was not fun at all. "I'm going to be sick," he announced from behind the mask, trying to turn his head. The neck brace kept him from moving, which was just as well. Despite his threat, nothing came up. He was already empty. But the effort of his body heaving made him feel oh so tired and he felt his eyelids drooping again.
Just as before, the world seemed to swim, his body growing heavier with each passing moment. His breathing sounded raspy, but at least his lungs didn't feel like they were filling with liquid. He closed his eyes and his world went dark.