Hold on, dear love

[bigdamnhiro]

[x]

[He's pretty sure some of the EMTs know him on sight now. He's been in enough ambulances recently for it.

After administering oxygen for the smoke inhalation and treating and gauzing a few minor burns on his hands and face, the nurses shuffle him off to an empty room and stick him in a chair by the window to wait for his aunt. They won't tell him much about his brother, but he's not stupid; he can guess Tadashi's in the ER right now, in what condition he doesn't know, but after the explosion in the lab...it can't be good. Hiro can't help feeling at least a little responsible. He doesn't know what went wrong, but he was the one who set an untested process into motion. Maybe he didn't have a choice, maybe it was the only way to save his brother, but it still sets low-key anxiety clawing at the inside of his ribcage and makes him nauseous thinking about it.

Did he make the right choice?

He's not sure. He's not sure of a lot anymore.

He doesn't mean to fall asleep, doesn't think he could if he wanted right now, but he's hardly slept anyway, and the last hour has been a frenzy of disasters and fires to put out and 9-1-1 calls and paramedics and police and...he's just so tired. In spite of himself, he ends up passed out in his chair, curled in on himself in the corner, face tight with worry even in his sleep.

He should wait for Aunt Cass, or news about Tadashi, but exhaustion gets the better of him.]

Comments

[croissaunt]

[It was never routine, no matter how many times she found herself rushing to the ER. This time was one of the worst ones. It ranked second of the three worst days of her life, and that was only because the first two were tied. And the two tied in third were funerals.

Cass doesn't get the call immediately until the chaos begins to die down. Part of her just wonders if she should have her nephews automate the emergency closing of her shop-- No. No. That's a very bad idea. Very bad. But she also isn't thinking about that. It is just something that popsinto her head whenever something... else happens.

Like now.

An explosion. She didn't know much more than that, other than Hiro was okay and that Tadashi... wasn't. At least there was hope this time. Last time, there had been nothing. Nothing left but a hat, and she still doesn't quite grasp that Tadashi's back. Sometimes his voice startles her, and sometimes his smile just makes her stare. It's so hard to comprehend.

Except now that she does, because she has no idea if she's going to lose him all over again.

At least they don't have to worry about losing her on the way over; she's gotten pretty good at driving and panicking at the same time. Cass is a woman and a mom. She can multitask.

Aunt Cass arrives a short while after Hiro falls asleep, and she doesn't even get to the front desk before she spots Hiro, eyes going wide in relief. "Hiro!"

It's a small favor that her shout will at least provide possible warning to Hiro before she rushes over to him and throws her arms around his neck and shoulder in a tight hug.]

[bigdamnhiro]

[His name jolts him out of sleep with a violent start, a split second before his aunt's arms are around him; he only hopes she can't feel his heart hammering in his chest. It's no way to greet her, but even exhausted and out of it, he's still on edge, afraid the next person who says his name is going to follow it with bad news. It's instinct. He can't help it.]

Aunt Cass...

[He settles down by degrees, hesitating, but finally wrapping his arms around her in turn with a wince. He's okay, but he didn't make it out completely unscathed, and his hands hurt. But that's not stopping him. He needs a hug right now more than anything.

And then he's trembling, struck by a fresh wave of nausea and guilt and everything else, burying his face in her shoulder. They've kept so much from her, and maybe it's his fault, maybe all of this is his fault, maybe if he'd done things differently—]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—

[croissaunt]

[And a hug is what he's going to get. She's also not going to let go of him anytime soon. Or at least not for the next minute.

Cass can feel her nephew's heart hammering, but that only means he's alive. She doesn't know what happened. Right now, she can't handle it--nor does she care. All she cares is if her nephews are all right. Part of her wants to immediately find out Tadashi's condition, but the rest of her knows that she can only do something for Hiro.

And that hurts, leaving her almost breathless with the way her throat tightens. But she's here and needs to stay here for Hiro.

Blame can be assigned later, if ever. There's no need to punish a son that's already learned whatever lesson he needed to learn. She won't ask.

Aunt Cass will only squeeze the life out of him and never let go.]

I'm here. I'm here. I'm right here.

[bigdamnhiro]

[He's not going to cry.

The last few months have worn him down, if the dark circles under his eyes are any indication, and now it's all come crashing down at once, and he feels brittle, like he's going to break into pieces any second, but he's not going to cry. He refuses. He won't, because she doesn't need to see him cry, because he has to keep it together and be strong for everyone—

He cries.

It's not loud or messy, not like when he was three and their parents never came home and she held him while he cried and yelled for mom and dad and didn't understand. It's quiet, restrained, little more than sudden tears and a few soft hiccups as he chokes back sobs. It doesn't help much—like draining water out of a sinking boat with teaspoons—but it's enough to let some of the pressure loose, so that maybe he can wait until later when he has time alone to really fall apart. He can't do that now, not in front of his aunt and the whole hospital staff.

He goes on like that for a few minutes, fingers threaded tightly in Aunt Cass' shirt, shedding tears into her shoulder, and then he sniffs and turns his head to the side and goes quiet for a moment.]

D-did they say anything about Tadashi when you came in?

[croissaunt]

[Hiro. Oh, Hiro. That's not how any of this works. You can't just stop yourself from crying when something like this happens. Which Aunt Cass can't stop, either. But it's different this time.

When they first lost Tadashi, she tried to cry where Hiro couldn't see her. When their parents were lost, she didn't cry in front of him. But Hiro is a little bit older now, and Tadashi isn't dead, but badly hurt, and so some tears fall. She'll cry properly later when she's alone, but Hiro has grown enough that she doesn't have to protect him from the fact that she isn't invincible anymore.

After all, Hiro's long learned that adults aren't invincible. Not anymore. Not since Tadashi. Or what Callaghan became.

She sniffs a bit herself, rubbing his back, and lets him hold on. He doesn't hide from physical contact like he used to, understanding that being a teenager didn't mean you needed to act like you were always strong and immovable when it came to emotions.

But it's still a bit of a relief when he finally calms down enough to talk again. She smooths his shirt one more time, then closes her eyes.]

... I don't know. [She opens her eyes, then slowly pulls away from Hiro, looking into his eyes with a sad smile if he'll met them.] But we can go together.

[Because Hiro deserves to hear it at the same time that she does. He's still young, yes, but not entirely a child anymore. What she used to translate for him before, when he was little--is something that she would only be repeating from the hospital staff.]