"What were you thinking, knucklehead?"
That was the first thing Hiro heard as he groggily clawed his way back to consciousness, followed by what was probably meant to be a gentle tap to the shoulder but felt more like someone had clubbed him. But it was Tadashi's voice, which was the best sound in the whole world. "Dashi," he managed to croak out, his entire body feeling rather... well, numb, if he thought about it. That and it was hard to breathe. He had to blink a few times to make his eyes work properly, but when he did, he realized what he'd heard had not been an illusion.
Tadashi leaned over his brother with an alcohol wipe, which he swiped across the younger Hamada's cheek. The motion caused Hiro to suck in his breath sharply, trying to evade the disinfecting cloth. But Tadashi wasn't having any of that and held him still with his other hand. That sharp intake of breathe hurt more than the alcohol did.
"That hurts," Hiro complained, still not quite with it. Had he just mentally clocked out? Or had he really been out of it? And if so, for how long? And had Tadashi even noticed he'd not been among the land of the living? "Why does it have to hurt so much?"
The older Hamada shook his head, a look of concentration on his face as he continued to dab at his brother's cut cheek. "If you're going to be stupid enough to pick a fight with one of the biggest back alley bot fighters in the city, the least you can do is suck it up and be a man when I clean up your mess."
Was that what had happened? Brief images of sitting down in front of a giant reddish-pink circle filled Hiro's brain. And across from him sat a giant of a man with a balding head. Who was that? Yama, right? "Oh." But still, when had Tadashi ever told him to "suck it up and be a man"? Never. At least not that he could remember.
Tadashi let out a heavy sigh. "Now it all comes back to you," he admonished. "Next time you get yourself into a scrape, don't expect me to come looking for you. In fact, next time I might not be able to. Hopefully getting beat up by that guy's men taught you a much needed lesson. Bot fighting is dangerous and I wish you'd stop doing it."
So that's what had happened. Hiro thought he vaguely remembered those chuckling voices. Only, the last time he'd encountered them, two lifetimes ago, he'd managed to escape a sound beating when Tadashi had come just in the nick of time. So why had he been late this go around?
"Why?" Hiro managed to get out as Tadashi moved to inspect some of Hiro's more colorful bruises. Well, at least the outwardly visible ones on his legs and arms. The boy had to resist the urge to cry out when his brother touched the more sensitive ones.
Somewhat distracted with his ministrations, Tadashi didn't even look up. "Why what?" His voice still reflected hints of anger and frustration.
Hiro had to choose his words carefully, but each prod from his brother's fingers only served to send stabs of fresh pain throughout his body. Man, they must have given him a real good beating to cause that kind of damage. "Why didn't you come sooner?"
Pulling back, Tadashi ran a hand through his hair, making Hiro realize, for the first time, that he wasn't wearing his customary hat. Maybe he'd lost it somewhere, or had just taken it off. Either was possible. Just how long had Hiro been out of it? "Believe me when I say I tried," Tadashi admitted, his face falling a bit, as if Hiro getting beaten to a pulp was his fault instead of Yama's men.
It cut to the quick that Tadashi thought Hiro's condition was his fault. Of course, Hiro had been taken off guard by events, now that he could think a bit about it. The memories were slowly coming back, as if integrating a different past with his present self. Was that how it had happened last time? He couldn't remember.
"It wasn't your fault," Hiro admonished, finally realizing he was lying on his bed back at the café. That, of course, meant they hadn't been arrested, which meant Aunt Cass likely didn't know anything about said events just yet. That was a relief.
Tadashi sighed as he eased up Hiro's shirt to look more closely at the worst of the injuries, probing around the ribs where the discoloration was worse. "Sorry," he said when Hiro winced, but he needed to make sure his brother hadn't broken anything. "Like you said, I should have been there sooner," he continued, using another alcohol wipe to wash off the worst of the visible grit from Hiro's exposed belly. "That way I could have talked some sense into you and maybe we could have avoided this whole mess."
Hiro knew that likely would not have happened. He'd been quite the rebellious one, before deciding to give up bot fighting all together. But, since this was starting back at square one, he couldn't fault anyone. Tadashi had probably been at his lab, like in the original timeline, and had come home to excitedly tell his brother about how he'd gotten Baymax to work, only to find Hiro gone and his computer screen on, the browser open to the bot fight he'd just been at.
"I'm sorry I cause you so much trouble," Hiro winced as Tadashi's probing fingers found another tender spot. He tried to not pant, because panting hurt. "I'm just a nuisance to you, aren't I?" He didn't even have the energy to sit up and inspect himself, let alone do anything but lie there like a dead thing on his own bed.
Now that he thought about it, the individual pings of pain were coming back into focus, even without Tadashi's prodding. It was almost like something had soothed away the worst of the pain until he was conscious enough to deal with it. While it was a nice sentiment, it totally sucked on the other end.
Hiro's last comment seemed to give Tadashi pause as his fingers hovered over a rather nasty bruise near his brother's side. Where had that come from? True, Hiro was always getting into trouble of one form or another, but he'd never considered him any kind of nuisance.
"You're not a nuisance," Tadashi countered. "I just wish you'd think things through before you did something reckless. One of these days, it's going to get you killed."
Little did his brother know, Hiro thought. Then Tadashi pressed a little harder on one sore spot than the others and he almost flew off the bed. Scrambling, Hiro pulled his shirt down. "Okay, that's enough poking," he complained. "I'm fine. Besides, you don't need to be quite so rough!"
Pings of pain punctuated his movement as Hiro tried to get away from his brother's reaching hands. Already, he could feel his body stiffening up from the unexpected beating. Why did it always have to hurt when he came back to life? And why was there always a good reason attached to it? First, rolling down an embankment and drowning; now getting beat up for "cheating" at a bot fight, something he hadn't really done. The cheating part, not the bot fighting. Life wasn't fair.
"Hiro, get back here," Tadashi admonished as his brother managed to evade him. "I haven't finished cleaning out all of your cuts and bruises. If I don't, they might get infected!"
But Hiro wasn't listening to any of that. Enough was enough. "I'm fine," he lied as he limped towards the bathroom to assess the damage for himself. At least they'd left his face alone, aside from the one cut Tadashi had already cleaned. Maybe it was some kind of code of conduct. Go for the parts no one will see because of clothing. Leave the more visible parts alone. Only the victim would see the remnants of the wounds inflicted, unless he or she went to a doctor. And Hiro had no intention of doing that if he could avoid it.
Hiro turned on the bathroom light and closed the door, locking it behind him in case Tadashi tried to barge in. He wanted to do this on his own. Wincing, Hiro lifted his shirt, realizing Tadashi was right. They'd don't a real number on him. Not only were there multiple bruises, but a lot of areas where the skin had been rubbed raw, probably from his moving around from the blows on the concrete. Those needed to be cleaned, though he didn't like the idea. There was a lot of grit in those. And his chest just felt tight, making breathing rather hard. No wonder he felt faint.
Having assessed that damage, Hiro moved to his arms and legs. He had to drop his pants to see his thighs, which mostly held bruises, no cuts or scrapes. There were a few red welts from friction, but that was about it. All in all, it could have been much worse.
Tadashi pounded on the bathroom door. "Hiro, let me in," he demanded. "Those abrasions are going to get infected and you're going to wish I'd done something sooner. It's that or I take you to the hospital."
The look on his older brother's face was almost worth it when the lock clicked and Hiro opened the door. Tadashi hadn't expected him to give in quite so easily. This was Hiro, after all. He hated all things hospital related. But more than that, he was stubborn.
On his way out of the bathroom, Hiro stumbled on the corner of the carpet, jarring his body. He let out a gasp as his ribs constricted, one arm going to hold the front of his rib cage, as if that would keep it from flying apart. Doing that, though, made it feel worse.
Tadashi put out his hands as if to catch his brother but didn't make contact. He had his suspicions, and if he was right, doing so would only inflict more damage on his already broken little brother. "You really should go to the hospital," he sighed, knowing he would fight a losing battle on that point.
"No," Hiro cut him off, bending over as he tried to catch his breath. He let out a growl as the pain threatened to engulf him. Tadashi was right but Hiro was stubborn. Besides, there really wasn't all that much they could do that Tadashi couldn't do at home. Or so he hoped.
"You can barely stand upright," Tadashi pushed, hoping his brother would see reason. But he wasn't surprised when his brother made his way back to the bed, sitting down on the edge while he tried to catch his breath.
"No hospital," Hiro insisted, trying to sit up straight to relieve the pressure, hands pressing against the mattress.
Tadashi sighed. If Hiro was unwilling to go to the hospital, he'd have to do the next best thing. "Okay fine. No hospital. But you're coming with me." He moved towards his brother, took him by the shoulder, and pulled him to his feet.
Despite the gentle motion, Hiro hissed from the contact. "Can't I just stay here? No one has to know."
Rolling his eyes, Tadashi continued to lead his reluctant brother towards the stairs. "Come on, you big baby. If you won't go to the hospital, I've got to do the next best thing. And that means you're coming with me. Or do you want me to tell Aunt Cass you were bot fighting again?"
That seemed to get through Hiro's head and he jerked back at the idea, immediately wishing he hadn't. "Fine," he growled. There was no way he wanted their aunt to find out he'd been doing something illegal, mainly betting on the bot fights, not that she'd see the difference. Back alley bot fights were rough business.
Tadashi gave a slight shake of his head as he put a helmet over Hiro's crazy hair, retrieving his own from the shelf. "Let's go, before she catches a break in the café then. I think it's poetry night so the crowd will be decent-sized."
That's all it took to convince Hiro. He knew once the crowd dispersed, their aunt would close shop and head up to check on the boys. He definitely wasn't ready for that just yet.