Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

This work is also on AO3.

"Hiro, please calm down. It's going to be okay."

They were going on hour two. Five-year-old Hiro Hamada was on his back in the middle of the floor, kicking his legs and refusing to listen to his older brother. Mochi had long since disappeared to the quiet safety of Cass's bedroom. Hiro begged repeatedly in his native language, politely asking over and over for his brother to give back his pacifier, and screaming when the answer wasn't what he wanted to hear. Cass stared at the yellow pacifier in her hands and felt like a horrible guardian.

"Hiro," pleaded Tadashi, "it will be okay. Just stop crying."

"Osha..." Hiro sobbed. "Oshaburi..."

"You can't have it. You don't need your oshaburi anymore."

Hiro screamed at the top of his lungs. He rolled onto his stomach and began slapping the wood floors with his hands. Cass pinched the bridge of her nose. All of this started the night before, when Tadashi stated a harsh fact.

"Aunt Cass," Tadashi huffed, erasing an error on his math homework, "I don't think Hiro needs his p-a-c-i-f-i-e-r anymore. He's five."

Oftentimes, having conversations with Tadashi felt like she was talking to someone much older than twelve. Cass looked over her shoulder at Hiro to find him beside Tadashi at the kitchen table. Hiro scribbled words on a worksheet titled 'My Journal', his pacifier between his lips as his legs dangled above the floor. Good, he didn't understand his brother's spelling. Or, if he did, he didn't let on. Even though Hiro didn't catch on this time, he was getting smarter. It was likely only a matter of weeks before they wouldn't be able to spell-talk at all.

"Maybe we should try to take it away again."

Cass sighed and continued washing dishes. "I don't know, Tadashi."

Hiro loved his pacifier. Cass tried to take it from him several times before. Each time, Hiro would throw himself on the ground, crying and screaming wildly until his voice gave out, or until she returned it to him to keep the peace. No one could throw a tantrum the way Hiro could. As much anguish as it caused to cut Hiro off from it, she couldn't deny that she really wanted Hiro to be done with 'Passy'. Originally, Cass let Hiro keep it because she felt it was a type of security blanket for him. His parents had just died and she worried that, if she took Passy away, it would cause too much change at one time and she would traumatize him—because that was possible, wasn't it? She saw it on afternoon talk show. Now here they were a little over two years later, and Hiro was even more attached to Passy than before. Cass was getting somewhat tired of having to ensure that Passy was halfway sanitary, and often worried about what it might do to Hiro's teeth. Trips to the dentist were enough of a concern with the way Hiro liked sweets. She didn't want to add anything else on top of the occasional cavity.

"He already goes several hours without it," said Tadashi.

This was very true. When Hiro started first grade this year, he stopped sucking on it during the school day. But as soon as Cass picked him up, Hiro would point at her purse and ask for Passy. She would scoop him up and pretend that she didn't have it. A storm would brew within Hiro as they picked up Tadashi from the other wing of the school. Every day, she would end up having to fish the yellow thing from her purse to prevent Hiro from having a meltdown before they got to the car. The parents would shoot her disapproving looks, but she always shook them off. Who were they to judge? No one in that parking lot would want to hear Hiro's screams. So what if the pacifier stopped them, right? To be honest, she wasn't so sure now. Between those darn talk shows, the parenting magazines at the pediatrician's office, Mrs. Matsuda in the café, and now Tadashi, she was starting to think she'd already failed Hiro by letting him keep the pacifier for so long.

"I could hide it," Tadashi suggested.

Cass put the last dish on the drain and let out out the water. "We've tried it before, honey. You know he finds it every time."

"True. Maybe I can talk to him?"

Now there was an approach that she hadn't tried. "You know," Cass faced Tadashi as she wiped her hands on a towel with a smile, "that might actually work!"

Tadashi could always get through to Hiro better than she could.

Hiro's face was a mess of tears and snot. Cass told herself this was mostly her fault for catering to him. If she had only taken away the pacifier and accepted the first tantrum, instead of giving in every time, then maybe she and Tadashi wouldn't be in this position right now. Hindsight...

"Hiro, stop this." Tadashi pressed. "You're going to hurt yourself. We both know it's time to let Passy go."

"No!" Hiro squealed. "'Dashi, give it!"

"No, Hiro."

The older Hamada brother continued to sit calmly on the floor, watching his brother's meltdown intensify with each passing minute. He kept close watch, ensuring that Hiro didn't hurt himself, but knew that the five-year-old needed to let it out once and for all. Cass held onto the pacifier, urging herself to stay seated on the couch, to let Hiro tire himself out, and to never give in and give it back. Hiro needed to learn that he couldn't keep getting his way. Cass, herself, needed to learn that she couldn't keep letting him have his way, and that she was doing him more harm than good.

Hiro's squeals rang out again. He kicked and growled from frustration. Another yell left the smaller child. This time he balled his hands into fists and pounded the floor.

"Hiro!" Tadashi shouted over him. "You're not a baby anymore!"

And then it was quiet. Hiro closed his mouth and his body relaxed. Cass watched her nephew roll onto his back. His eyes stared up at the ceiling. Realization must have hit him. Either that, or it was Tadashi's use of the word 'baby' in a sentence that was referring to him. Hiro absolutely hated being called a baby. Cass released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The room felt heavy. Hiro sat up straight and folded his legs. He wiped at his eyes and face furiously.

"You're already pretty smart," Tadashi rested his chin on his palm, "but people might not know it if they see you with that pacifier. They might think you're just a baby."

Hiro's dark mop of hair covered his eyes as he lowered his chin to his chest. "I'm not a baby. Take it back! I'm not a baby!"

"Oh, honey," Cass sat down on the floor beside Hiro. She gently brushed tears from his eyes, and ran her fingers through his hair. "We know you're not a baby. That's why we think it's time you put Passy away. You can still have your blankie and your stuffed animals. No one is going to take those from you. But it's time to let Passy go. Is there a reason why you think you still need Passy?"

"Because...because..." Hiro looked down at his hands, "because I've always had it."

Cass nodded in understanding, "And it's hard to let go of things that you've always had, huh?"

Hiro nodded.

"I know sweetie." Cass rested her cheek against his head. "Especially if it means a lot to you. Does Passy mean a lot?"

He wiped his eyes, "Uh-huh."

She exchanged looks with Tadashi, who suddenly looked sad. She hadn't thought about it before, but something told her Hiro's attachment to his pacifier may have had to do with his parents. Unlike Tadashi, Hiro was barely old enough to remember them. From what she remembered of their visits, Hiro had used that pacifier since he was a few months old. She wasn't sure what he'd remembered of his parents. But she began to think that tossing away the pacifier would be like throwing away his memory of them. Cass raised his chin, "How about this, what if you stopped using it, but we kept it around in a memory box? Would that be okay?"

Hiro nodded again. "Please?"

"Of course, honey. Whatever will make you my happy boy again."

"'Kay."

Tadashi gave an encouraging smile, "So you don't need Passy anymore?"

"No. Just...don't throw it away, 'kay, Aunt Cass?"

Hiro had wriggled away enough to look up at her with those big hopeful eyes. Her heart melted. This had to be what parents must have felt when they looked at their children.

Cass kissed the top of his head and held out her pinky. "I pinky promise."

I'd considered writing out Hiro's pleading in Japanese, but it's admittedly been a few years since I last studied Japanese and I couldn't quite remember my appropriate endings and verbiage. So instead of mincing the language, I stuck with one word: oshaburi, or pacifier.

I also apologize if the ages were a little off.