Hiro Hamada (
bigdamnhiro) wrote in
san_fransokyo2015-01-28 11:26 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
I've got a dark alley and a bad idea
[Hiro's really, actually sneaking into a bar called the Mean-Eyed Cat. The irony doesn't escape him.
He could be at home, at The Lucky Cat, but no. Mean-Eyed Cat it is.
That he even manages to sneak in behind a couple of conversationalists in ill-fitting suits is dumb luck; it's freezing out (it's snowing, it hasn't snowed in years), business is slow, whatever bouncer should be watching the door is hanging out at the counter instead where he doesn't have to deal with the drafts from the door. That he makes it to the other opposite end of the taproom and into the back hall before the bartender manages to mutter a hey wait is because he's small and knows how to duck behind obstacles and look inconspicuous.
Nobody comes after him, so that's a plus. He pauses at a corridor corner to get a good look around and listen to the noise, see if he can get some kind of direction.
He has a small port of Baymax's scanner, but it doesn't have the power to give him more than a general location. From there it was always going to take his own resourcefulness to find the guy. But he's definitely in this building - Hiro asked around, got some incredulous talk about the old-timer, yōkai, guy with the metal creepies, doesn't talk much, at that one bar down the street - stuff like that.
There's a couple of empty rooms - couches and televisions and darts, chipped paint and cracked baseboards, low hanging ceiling bulbs and so much dust and secondhand smoke he fights off a coughing fit - and then there's one with voices, near the back. He peers through the cracked door and finds who he's looking for, skulking on a couch in the back. Between the two of them, though, there's a couple of thugs playing pool and talking shit at each other.
Okay. He was sort of hoping Callaghan would be alone.
He tightens his grip on the folded duster tucked under his arm and stuffs the other in his pocket, fingers tightening around the solid metal object inside. And then he shoulders his way through the door.]
Hey. Delivery for the guy with the metal creepies.
He could be at home, at The Lucky Cat, but no. Mean-Eyed Cat it is.
That he even manages to sneak in behind a couple of conversationalists in ill-fitting suits is dumb luck; it's freezing out (it's snowing, it hasn't snowed in years), business is slow, whatever bouncer should be watching the door is hanging out at the counter instead where he doesn't have to deal with the drafts from the door. That he makes it to the other opposite end of the taproom and into the back hall before the bartender manages to mutter a hey wait is because he's small and knows how to duck behind obstacles and look inconspicuous.
Nobody comes after him, so that's a plus. He pauses at a corridor corner to get a good look around and listen to the noise, see if he can get some kind of direction.
He has a small port of Baymax's scanner, but it doesn't have the power to give him more than a general location. From there it was always going to take his own resourcefulness to find the guy. But he's definitely in this building - Hiro asked around, got some incredulous talk about the old-timer, yōkai, guy with the metal creepies, doesn't talk much, at that one bar down the street - stuff like that.
There's a couple of empty rooms - couches and televisions and darts, chipped paint and cracked baseboards, low hanging ceiling bulbs and so much dust and secondhand smoke he fights off a coughing fit - and then there's one with voices, near the back. He peers through the cracked door and finds who he's looking for, skulking on a couch in the back. Between the two of them, though, there's a couple of thugs playing pool and talking shit at each other.
Okay. He was sort of hoping Callaghan would be alone.
He tightens his grip on the folded duster tucked under his arm and stuffs the other in his pocket, fingers tightening around the solid metal object inside. And then he shoulders his way through the door.]
Hey. Delivery for the guy with the metal creepies.
no subject
he may be trying to distract himself from the pain.]
Worried about your hands getting dirty, Hamada? You're already aiding and abetting a- what was it you said on the pier-, 'a criminal with unpredictable tech'. Which, mind, is the only reason I'm still alive, because I don't doubt a jail cell would have been easy for Baymax to smash in to.
[think about that for a moment, Hiro. because one way or another- he's still convinced you had a strong hand in it all.]
Then again, I suppose shattering those damned NDAs at this point won't dig me any deeper. I've nothing left to lose.
no subject
And then Tadashi would be super mad at him, probably. He's giving Tadashi a lot of reasons to be mad at him, lately.]
I made a mistake, and I shouldn't have gone after you like that, but I'm not taking back what I said. You're dangerous, and those microbots are extra dangerous.
[A beat.]
But honestly? I dunno what to do about you.
[There's faint light ahead, now. He puts away the phone and walks without it, until the tunnel curves into a larger room, a four-way intersection curving down into a shallow basin of a floor with about four inches of standing water in the middle, glinting under light from an overhead grate. He pauses there, turns to face Callaghan with his hands in his pockets, frowning.]
I could turn you into the cops, but that'd just back you into a corner and they'd get hurt or killed trying to catch you, even if you didn't do it on purpose and it was just the microbots. So maybe it's safer for everybody if I just let you lay low, for now.
[He huffs.]
I don't have a better solution. Until I do, I'll help you fix the microbots, I'll help you stop that thing, but nobody else is digging graves because of you if I can help it.
no subject
wait, what?
Callaghan seems a bit taken off-guard by the frank admission, watching Hiro turn towards back as a faint ripple goes through the microbots near him. and as Hiro continues to speak...
he's right. he's thought as much, as well, understanding that the more agitated he is, the more the microbots tend to act for him - there's a few exceptions, but in general, the more active his mind the more active are they. the more of a chance he has to think on a set of options, to remain calm...
the more control he tends to have.
there's another few moments of consideration; and then, he speaks, none of the previous snarl in his voice. he sounds...pensive, really, closing his eyes as he reaches down to rub at his leg.]
Back when...before you said that. Before things went the way they did. [he's not taking blame
yetbut he's not placing any more upon Hiro.] What, exactly, were you trying to do?no subject
If he's being asked questions, he's being trusted, implicitly, to give truthful answers, so that's a plus.]
...It was just a basic, second signal that was meant to override whatever commands they were already picking up from you. I thought it'd be a way to get them under control. I didn't - it wasn't supposed to affect you. That's supposed to be a one-way connection.
[He scuffs his feet and skirts the edge of the room, peering down tunnels, because from here? He honestly doesn't know which way to go. And then he glances back over his shoulder at Callaghan. Dude looks rough.]
Maybe you should sit down and rest for a second.
no subject
he looks tired and worn and old, and at least for the moment, may not seem to be the professor who thought it would be a good idea to set a fire, to turn upon his former students, to not give himself a chance to think or to do anything but react
but just a man who, if he's not already there, is nearing the end of his frayed rope.
he doesn't straighten up, but he doesn't sit down, either. he does, however, seem satisfied that Hiro's intentions were pure...or at least pure enough.
and if they're not, then he'll simply kill him.]I'll be fine until we reach the next storm drain.
[because if his timing is right, the microbots should be close enough that if he gets a line of sight to the surface, they should be able to slink in from there]
no subject
[Hiro watches him a moment longer, struck by how different this situation is from the one he'd imagined when Callaghan had handed him that acceptance letter and said see you in class, what feels like a hundred years ago now. He'd thought, at the time, he'd be sitting in class listening to an old professor in a tie and a knitted sweater lecture on robotics, not walking a beaten old man around the sewers under the city, running scared from a man-made horror he left behind months ago.
Things change, and they change fast. And they're still changing now.
He resolves to make sure Baymax - the real Baymax, the one with Tadashi's healthcare chip - can look at that leg, at least, before this is over.]
...Maybe this way. There's a draft -
[He pauses at the mouth of the rightmost tunnel, frowning.]
To be honest, the only way I know out of here is back the way we came.
no subject
he had meant those words, and then, ten minutes later- had realized that he was on the cusp of never teaching again.
but now, straightening back up...he does feel like a professor, if only because Hiro's momentarily acting like a student who had forgotten their homework. at least he admits it, but it still brings a prompt from Robert-]
Are you lost, or is this just a dead end?
no subject
Or maybe his behavior. His grades were always top notch; not so much his attitude.]
...A little of both. I've never explored any farther than this, and there's - [A beat. Hrrrm.] - hazards?
[Don't kill him. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Options were slim.]
Gas pockets. Flooding. Or getting really lost, that'd be bad. Stuff that makes it a bad idea to go charging around down here without thinking about which way you're going, first.
no subject
he's really too tired for this shit. he's just- no. he's not going to stumble in to a gas pocket, he's not going to /drown/, he's just...
he's just going to ease against the wall and let out a heavy 'ugh' of a breath. some Hero you are. sure, he's alive, but you know what?]
I'll take that minute, after all.
[he doesn't...slump, but he isn't supporting himself as much as he was. the microbots are doing quite a lot to keep him upright, really, probably most of the work. with his hands reaching to cover his face, the heels rubbing in to his eyes...]
...maybe two. I'm going to try something.
no subject
[And he really does mean that, genuinely. They may not be friends, there may always be that faint, bitter note between them, but even Hiro starts to feel bad for a guy that looks this beat down. Maybe he shuffles his feet uncomfortably and grips tightly at the hem of his jacket; maybe he bites his lip and eyeballs his sneakers, looking almost guilty.
He could've thought this through a little better, maybe.
Regardless, though, he stays where he is, and then after a second seats himself cross-legged on the floor, watching Callaghan intently. So maybe he's a little curious. Just a tad.]
What exactly are you gonna try?
no subject
he also thinks he understands that Hiro is not trying to kill him. or- at least hadn't meant things to be that way. there's another thing they have in common- in the heat of the moment, things tend to go...
intense.
they're not intense now. but they're not over yet. as Callaghan slides down to the ground, eased down by the microbots, there's a part of him that knows there's still a distance to go, even if they are so close...]
...I realized there had to be a two way connection after the pier. I...hadn't been sure before, but that confirmed it.
[his voice is somewhat muffled by his hands, and the low volume doesn't help. but his breathing is slowing to a forced sort of calm, as he tries to concentrate and- think? not think?
already, his head's aching, a bit. he's not sure if it's from this or the exhaustion, though. nonetheless, he talks..]
...so I tried to theorize how it worked. How...the programming would allow that. Or what it evolved in to.
[and oddly enough, it's probably good that Hiro's here, because as the programmer...]
...and I ventured that if they can home in on me, where-ever I am...then on some level...they're not responding as to a controller, but to another piece. And every piece, by necessity...understands where the others are, and has to be able to convey that information, somehow...
no subject
Besides, before he was a convicted felon, Robert Callaghan was a leader in the field of robotics. Hiro hasn't forgotten that altogether. This isn't a class lecture, but it's the closest he'll ever get, probably.]
...They think you're just another, bigger bot. [Tentatively he reaches for one of the microbots swarming at the edge of what small number Callaghan has with him now and drags it from the group, feeling the faint pull of resistance, like prying apart magnets -] That was - how I found the warehouse where you were keeping them, originally. I had one microbot left, and it was trying to get back to the others, and I didn't know that because I thought they were all gone but Baymax decided to see where it was trying to go and -
[Goddammit, Hiro, breathe. He lets the microbot go and it snaps back into formation with the rest.]
- And turns out, it was just trying to rejoin the group. Like bees in a beehive. But if it goes two ways, that'd mean - what, you're getting feedback from them? They `talk` to you? Like, like you were part of the hive, or -
no subject
...something like that. They take commands, but they also will...resist, if something goes against the programming, or pick up something they understand more clearly...
[no, that's not what he means to say. he grimaces, shoving that thought
and everything attached to itaside]They're not far, because they're still communicating, they're trying to make it clear where they are and what they're doing so that it can all work together as one, it's just...difficult, to understand the language.
to be one
[his brain doesn't /work/ that way. and maybe things have changed a little with how it does work, but when he's trying to focus, like now...
...if he lets himself just go, a little bit, then maybe he can guide them. he lets out a heavy breath, though, because maybe it's not about focus at all, maybe it's just about...stopping trying to control them...
he almost seems to pass out. at least, he stops talking, and doesn't seem still aware of his surroundings. there's only the constant shift-rustling of the microbots on him until eventually, there's a shift-rustling from further down the tunnel.
and more begin to creep through. a lot more.
callaghan still doesn't seem aware. he doesn't even respond. aside from his slow breathing, he could be a statue.]
no subject
Seconds later, the sound grows abruptly louder and microbots start pouring in through the tunnel opposite. Hiro's heart jackhammers into his throat and sends nervous laughter tumbling out of him.]
Okay! Good one, now we know the way out, that's really - really great - sooooo you can stop now -
[Except Callaghan still looks like death and isn't responding to anything. A space this small isn't big enough for the full sum of microbots kept in reserve; already they're seething around his ankles and climbing the walls in precision-calculated geometric paths. And Hiro, for all he's trying to hold his composure, can feel his faint apprehension ratcheting up to about an eleven on the panic scale. He's on his feet, flattening himself against the wall like maybe he can make himself smaller that way. Or maybe just sink into it and vanish.
Don't freak. Don't freak don't freak don't -]
Seriously, that's enough! There's too many -
[He almost grabs at Callaghan, to get his attention, but hesitates just a second because the last time, when he shoved him, this didn't go so well - only a track of the bots peels itself off the wall and travels across his wrist, and that's the breaking point, he lets out a high-pitched yelp and grabs Callaghan's shoulder, shaking him trying to get his attention.]
Callaghan!
no subject
and it feels so damn good
to j̖̟͔͉̲̹̲̔ü̘s͔̫̜̏̀t̢͙̏̑̓͑̋ͬ͆ ͇͈̯̜̙͒̾l̪̱̗͉͙ͮͫͯͮę̘̞̯͖͋ͤ̋̏ͦ̚t̨̹̼̓͛̓͠ ̛͙̹̦̒ͭ̏̄͑̽̅̅͘͠g͒͒̇̂̔ͬ͏̬̹̩͈̮̟̙̲̲̤̙͇͕̞̘̜̀͡͡͞ǫ̋̍͋͊ͨ͋̄̇ͩ͂͑̎̿̉ͤ̚͏̶̵̛͙͎̪̹̞̭̘̥
[he doesn't stir from the laugh. nor with the rising voice. he hears but he doesn't process, there is sound and there is motion but more consuming is the connection, the closing distance, and it's tranquilizing to let it subsume him.
'him' is even starting to lose its meaning. he could let it. easily. so easi-̽̌ͬ̆̀ͦ̈̃ͣͧ͑̌̍́҉̤̫̪̮̗͙̰͔
the entire mass jerks, responding to the disruption by trying to stop it - as in, completely encase Hiro. Callaghan's eyes snap open, pupils so dilated they look completely black, and he's gasping as he's suddenly conscious of here and now and the pain in his leg and the sight of someone being swallowed up by black-
a wordless sound and the microbots still, but it's not until he manages a gesture do they actually pull away. at that point, he's
being pushedpushing himself up, a shaky hand grabbing on to the wall for steadiness. his other half-reaches forwards, uncertain as to whether or not he could use Hiro for support as well]no subject
For a moment, Hiro's certain he's going to die down here. And no one will know; Tadashi won't even be able to find him, because he'd specifically chosen to wear the one hoodie he owned that wouldn't have a GPS tracker in it, the one he'd gotten after his brother died, and the signal wouldn't reach down here anyway. He could yell for help, but nobody would hear him and his imagination lends itself to scenarios where he opens his mouth and the things proceed to choke him to death.
So he whimpers instead, a pitiful noise that doesn't do any justice to the terror trying to claw its way out of his throat.
And then all at once they recede, and Hiro tumbles forward with a yelp, batting them away with his hands now that he can. The first thing he sees is Callaghan reaching for him, as if he has any right to ask for help standing immediately after that. It's like the guy doesn't even understand what he just did, and Hiro, for his part, acts on instinct, making a choking noise and scrambling back out of reach.]
Don't! [He shakes his head, ducking and frantically running both hands through his hair, trying to steady his breathing, voice cracking and stuttering -] - D-don't touch me. If you need help, okay, fine, but you're gonna, you're gonna have to give me a s-second -
no subject
oh.
Callaghan freezes in position, blinking a few times as he's fully brought back to the moment. minutes. everything that's happened, and this- this damned kid, this damned stubborn kid not realizing when enough is enough and he should just get out.
it seems to run in the family.
after a few moments of watching Hiro, and of the microbots dispersing - too many of them to fully clear, but they can at least understand the need to spread out and give the two some room - he reaches with his hand again, but this time, turning it palm-up as though to offer support, rather than take it.
...not that he really expects it to be taken, but at least after another breath, he feels sturdy enough to speak]
I'm sorry. That was...unintentional.
[but it happened.
now, if only he could apply that logic to other things]no subject
Part of him would like to. Maybe he wants to get out, maybe he'd like to throw all this out the window and just run scared because he's only fourteen and maybe it's all too big for him. Maybe he's not ready to ~help a lot of people~ and change the world -
But he's not ready to give up yet, either. Nor is he ready to lose his brother a second time. So after a couple of seconds he reaches for the offered hand - and no it's not easy, he gets psyched out at first, flinches and almost draws back again halfway there - but he does take it. He swallows hard, fixing his eyes on the concrete at his feet.]
It's - [he doesn't know what to say. What would his brother say? Something cheesy and sentimental, probably.] - It's okay. It wasn't you, I get it. We can - we'll find a way to fix it.
[...He didn't really want to share just how bad it scared him, but his trembling fingers make it embarrassingly obvious and now Callaghan can probably feel it. So he hurriedly ducks under Callaghan's arm and pulls it over his shoulder to provide what support he can and distract from the shaking. He nods at the tunnel the microbots poured out of.]
...That's the way out, right?
no subject
goddamn
finally, Hiro takes it. and he doesn't say anything in return, because Hiro's offering a verbal hand, as well, and it feels like something in him is cracking, a little, because why.
why do these stupid kids reach for the fire, when they know they only have so much of a chance to get out alive, much less do anything about it?]
...I think so, but-
[Hiro's tug has him stepping forwards, and then making a sharp noise as weight ends up on his bad leg. he falls to a kneel, the microbots moving to cling and support, and he lets them. he feels exhausted and worn out and he doesn't think he can push himself any further.
he's /done/.
he stares down at the floor, breath shuddering, these damned things feeling heavier than they ever have been, even as they try and push him up, up. he doesn't want to get up. he's tired and he's aching and he just wants to sleep-]
...you...you said the tunnels should block the scanners, right?
no subject
They should, yeah, but this is a pretty crummy place to take a nap -
[Hiro cringes, fingers flexing with the need to do something, but there's nothing he can do; he can't even get close, not without risking another incident with the microbots, and besides that he has what - paperclips? - in his pockets.
He needs Baymax - not the walking wreck that chased them down here, but the real Baymax, the one that would know what to do right now. Hiro balls his fists decisively.]
Wait here.
[And he bolts before Callaghan or the microbots can decide to stop him, not down the tunnel the microbots picked out for them but back the way they came - because he knows the way out, that way, and if Callaghan's not with him then he's pretty sure he can exit that way without the other Baymax coming after him.
And Baymax - Tadashi's Baymax, the one with the healthcare chip - should be somewhere near there by now, anyway. That's where Hiro told him to go. So he fumbles his way back through the dark, counting steps again with one hand on the wall to guide him, until he makes it back to the manhole and can climb out into the street.
Now he just has to find Baymax without getting caught by probably a dozen cops that are crawling all over that bar by now - or at least what's left of it.]
no subject
maybe he deserves it, a little.
he makes a short little laugh at Hiro's comment, and then another- yeah, no. he's not going anywhere. as Hiro runs, the most he does is ease himself on to the ground - on to the microbots, letting out a heavy breath and closing his eyes.
he doesn't even notice himself being moved to the corner, or the microbots swarming over him. he's so used to it by now that it's arguably more soothing than anything else, especially with how they seem to filter out all sight and sound. there's a part of him still anxious that he can't sleep, that that thing will come across him while he's weak like this...
...but it doesn't much matter, because it's only a few seconds of worry before that exhaustion takes over again. the microbots slow to a more subtle motions over him, like a nest of insects protecting a hive, and for all the world seem content to remain like this for as long as they need to.]
no subject
So surprise, guess who's along for the ride?
Tadashi lets Baymax take the lead, keeping an eye out for Hiro and fighting the urge to rush Baymax along while the robot follows his internal GPS. He occasionally stops to scan for Hiro's life signs, and every negative result leaves Tadashi more tense than before.
What in the world was Hiro doing out here by himself? Tadashi had hoped that that last little snafu with Fred would have been enough to discourage this sort of lone wolf behavior, but apparently not. Heck, even three of them (including Baymax) didn't guarantee safety for everyone. The night at the pier had proven that, but here they were anyway. The message didn't seem to be motivated by any kind of emergency (not if Hiro was willing to wait for Baymax to arrive at his normal, armorless speed), but the swarm of police and the pile of rubble they'd passed not long ago suggested otherwise.
So he's understandably relieved when Baymax finally does call out Hiro's name, quickly darting out from behind the big marshmallow and making a beeline for his brother.]
Hiro! Are you okay? What happen-... Were you in the sewer?
no subject
Less Awesome: Tadashi leaps out from behind the nurse bot. The grin goes away, replaced by that sort of deer in the headlights look that typically accompanies the knowledge that shit, shit, now you fucked up. This is exactly what he does not need.
Maybe, when Tadashi's done wondering why his baby brother just crawled out of a manhole like some teenage mutant ninja turtle, covered in cobwebs and some dirt and maybe a little bit of dried blood, he'll start to wonder why Hiro doesn't exactly look happy to see him.]
Y....es. I was in the sewer. It's...complicated?
[Understatement. Hiro brushes a cobweb from his hair, shaking it off his fingers with a grimace. Baymax says something about Elevated heart rate and blood pressure. Signs of: acute distress. Signs of: light contusions consistent with a blunt force attack. Signs of: incisive injuries as from a sharp -
Hiro ignores him - interrupts him, actually, waving his hands to cut the nurse bot off and making a nervous grab for the first aid kit while pointedly not looking at Tadashi. He has a one track mind and his one track right now is, Little Robert's down a well and needs medical attention.]
Never mind, I need this. [A swift glance at the manhole, and then Baymax.] And you're gonna have to deflate, 'cause I don't think you'll fit like that.
no subject
Yeah, no.
Tadashi reaches out to try and snag Hiro's shoulder, trying to turn his brother around so he can get a look at those patches of dried blood on his hands.]
Hiro, you are not going back down there. Tell me what's going on.
no subject
In the process, he catches his own glimpse of his hands, and they look like a wreck - blood and dirt and who knows what else he picked up, running his hands all over the sewer walls. He lets out an irritated noise and turns to shoot Tadashi a look.]
A lot of things are happening! Weird things. Crazy, impossible things. More importantly - [And he jabs a finger insistently at the manhole, deep and dark and yawning open in the middle of the street -] Robert Callaghan's down there, and he's in pretty bad shape. I have to go back down there. You of all people don't get to tell me not to.
[You charged into a burning building for him, asshole. You set the bad example.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)