[15 days since the fire.]

"You're supposed to be dead," Tadashi somehow choked out (he was still burning, there was fire in his throat, in his lungs), his arms limp by his sides. "I saw it," he barreled on, as if repeating it could make it true, could erase the phantom from before his eyes. "The exhibition hall went up in flames, there's no way -" Red and white, flickering at the edge of his vision, drawing his eyes to the damning mask, and oh. The truth hit him, painful in all its sharp-edged honesty, shredding him further into tatters, because, because.

"You stole Hiro's microbots," he whispered, and Professor Callaghan's flinch (he didn't deserve that title any more, that man was dead) ripped what was left of his heart out of his chest. The man in front of him, mentor, role-model, who'd helped him along when he'd been in trouble, one of the few menhe would have run into a fire for -

The man's face was unreadable, and he said, "You wouldn't understand, Tadashi. Hiro's ideas were brilliant. I needed them."

"You could have asked!" The words came exploding out from his mouth, and Tadashi could feel his voice break. "You didn't need to cause a fire!"

"There was no other way!" The man yelled back, a desperate, angry glint in his eyes. "I didn't want to start a fire - people's hopes were in that building. All that effort, going up in smoke? I'm not that kind of person, Tadashi. You should know."

And it was true - he had known. Robert Callaghan, leader in his field, always pushing his students to be great, to do their utmost. He'd been under that tutelage, once, had felt the full extent of that support. But this (this was just another nightmare, wasn't it? One long, horrifying, unending dream) - "I don't know anything!" The world was slowly burning away, the ground smoldering away from his feet, and Tadashi didn't know this man. "The professor I knew wouldn't have let someone die!"

"That was his mistake, not mine!" Callaghan snapped, and the fire had wrapped itself around his neck, kami, it was boiling all the oxygen out of the air - "I did my best to clear the building. It's his fault for being so reckless!"

Reckless. Hiro was reckless. Then, as if the words had triggered something, an onslaught of memories:

Airborne cart, flying cat, reckless, reckless, reckless - Megabot, bot-fighting. 'That was reckless, wasn't it?' Tadashi struggled to breathe under the flood of snapshot sensory information, lungs full of ash and smoke.'You're gonna get yourself arrested!' Reckless, idiotic knucklehead. Stupid pranks, boneheaded stunts at school, kami, what had he been doing - "You don't get to say that!" he finally snarled, and his cheeks grew damp. "Not after what you've done - not after you killed Hiro!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tadashi," but he wasn't listening to a word of the impostor, of the traitor wearing a dead man's face - "I just started the fire. I'm not responsible for what your brother chose to do!"

And. That word. It cut through the fog, sliced through his heart, skewered him in the chest. Responsible.

("Tadashi, this is Hiro, your little brother. You're responsible for him now. Can you do that for me?")

He was breathing too hard, each intake a shudder-shake to drag oxygen out of smoky, charred air, and the man, that man, just stood there, face set as stone and once-warm eyes as cold, cold, cold as the flames that were making his skin numb.

I failed - the world had suddenly lost color, bleached away by excruciating red-red-red-red-red, and there was no sound but a rushing roar of fire in his ears - I was responsible for Hiro, that was my job, I failed, he's dead, Hiro's dead- as everything was swept away in a overwhelming wave of anger - He killed him. He killed Hiro, he doesn't deserve - and his fist connected with Callaghan's jaw with a sickening crack.

The man stumbled, stepped back, but Tadashi's vision was tinged red-orange-yellow, and there was fire, fire in his veins - "Coward," he said, and his voice was hoarse, grated with smoke and ashes and soot; the loud beat of his pulse grew and grew and there was nothing left - "Hiro was worth ten of you!" He rushed forward, his head filled with glass-sharp memories and the words I wasn't good enough -

Dimly, Tadashi could register the horror on the others faces, but he couldn't - wouldn't - 'd thought he could be good enough, could control himself in front of the man who'd taken his brother away, but the anger was burning, burning him away, and all Tadashi could do was watch as his hands broke every promise he'd ever given to his sensei, crossed the line from neutralizing to debilitating -

- hands yanked him out of the red-tinged haze and held him firm - "Tadashi, stop!" - just like they'd done when the exhibition hall was going up in flames, and kami, why wouldn't anyone just let him go? The flames were there, licking at the remaining vestiges of his self-control, and they beckoned, calling to him. Come, they seemed to whisper. You couldn't save Hiro. Couldn't stop Callaghan. He deserved to burn, to char into ashes for not being able to see it coming, and -

- and the guilt from the last fifteen days swirled and surged - my fault - up from where it had been lodged in his gut, wrapping cold fingers around his seared throat - my-fault-my-fault - twining with the flames to loop a noose around his neck. I'm the one who suggested the showcase, I'm the one who introduced Callaghan to him, I'm the one who was too caught up in my own problems to notice how Hiro was struggling, my fault, my fault - !

Tadashi choked, taking ragged, searing breaths, vision blurring as tried to fight his way free, just like that night fifteen days ago, when Callaghan had set a match to whatever paper-thin trust he'd been rebuilding with his brother. His fault, his responsibility; he needed to be the one to bring Callaghan down, regardless of the consequences -

But he was stopped by a pair of firm, gentle arms, made to nurse and covered in armor to protect. "Your current levels of neurotransmitters are not suited for someone performing the art of karate," Baymax informed him gently, and all he could do was to choke back a laugh-sob, because of course Baymax would try to stop him - "Protocol requires me to restrain you until your neurotransmitters are down to acceptable levels."

"Let me go, Baymax," he said - no, pleaded, - and pushed back against red-plated armor. I need to do this, he silently said. I failed, Baymax. I failed, and I -

Baymax's grip stayed firm, "I would advise against continuing this fight. Robert Callaghan is sufficiently neutralized, and any further action may cause fatal - "

I'm sorry. "Voice activation Tadashi Hamada," said Tadashi, and the flames rose up to claim him. At the sound of his voice, Baymax stilled and stood at attention. "Termination Sequence twenty-fourteen-thirteen-twelve. Program deactivate." Eyes dimming, Baymax's head and arms lowered, and Tadashi stepped out of the limp arms, face carefully, oh-so-carefully blank as he faced the ghost haunting his dreams.

"You should have stayed dead," the words fell from his lips like heavy stones, and as each one fell the bright, bright flames grew higher -

- "Hey." Hiro looked away and fiddled with the cap on his head, the half-light not quite hiding the pink in his cheeks. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

There was so much unsaid, unspoken, but Tadashi understood. Hiding his own smile, he shrugged, and gave his brother a nudge. "No problem, knucklehead. That's what older brothers are for." I'll always be there, he whispered inside his head. I promise.

A good-natured grumble, and a nudge back; the world was peaceful, perfect, before alarm bells started ringing, ringing, ringing -

- and the flames rose to sear his guilt into his bones like so many, many blistering brands, but the weariness and anger and hurt and guilt lodged in his heart, heavy enough to make him stay and, ever-so-slowly, fall into ruin.

I'm so sorry, little brother.


AN:

Hello! I'm back with another chapter, and this one is short and (not really) sweet. Tadashi comes to terms with the exact extent of Callaghan's actions, and while having a breakdown, deactivates Baymax against his will.

The next chapter will be (hopefully) not too long in coming, but then again, everything is up in the air, as I'm pressed for time as school starts again in a week. Please don't forget to read the corresponding chapter of Cosmic Intervention by New and Old (links on my profile) after reading this chapter.

Thank you for reading! Please review :)


New and Old's A/N Update - I'm hijacking songdreamer's account to make an announcement (and because songdreamer is too lazy):

We have decided to stop posting our chapters together, after much, much discussion. You see, songdreamer is really, really, reallllly going to suffer the next few months IRL (and I don't blame her if she stops writing for fun in the next 6 months or so) because she's in for a really busy school year. But she has given me her blessing to continue Cosmic Intervention to its conclusion ahead of her. Here's to hoping she catches up before CI's conclusion.

We apologize for letting you guys down again for breaking our plan of posting at the same time. (Well, songdreamer more than me.)

Hope y'all will keep an eye on PMWY, though, as you continue reading Cosmic Intervention. ;)

Tons of Cyber-love to y'all Favoriters, Followers, and Reviewers!