Error: Not Saved Masterpost

Summary: Hiro thinks he's accepted Tadashi's death, until a newspaper headline gives him a way to rewrite the story. What lengths will he go to to bring his brother back?

CHAPTERS:

ONE: BUYING TIME

TWO: MAKING TIME

THREE: SAVING TIME

FOUR: TIME & TIME AGAIN

FIVE: THE LAST TIME

PLAYLIST:

See You Again (Fast and Furious 7)
Healing Incantation (Tangled)
Immortals (Big Hero 6)
Time (Inception)
I See Fire (The Hobbit)

THE LAST TIME (Error: Not Saved Chapter Five)

CHAPTER FIVE: THE LAST TIME

After that visit Hiro threw himself into his work more than ever. What did it matter that nobody understood the cosmic importance of his mission? He would bring Tadashi back home safe. Then they would see.

He soon lost track of the hours he spent jumping back and forth between the past and the present, trying to predict threats, trying to negate threats, trying to remove any possible thing that would kill his brother. And yet as he neutralized one threat another one sprang up, sometimes minutes, hours, days later. Then the cycle would begin again. Was it really his fault that he forget meals and schoolwork?

Looking at the calendar he gathered that about a week had passed since his first fateful trip. Funny. It felt like much more than that. But he'd spent hours upon hours in his own past, each time returning a split second after stepping into the Chronos II, until his own perception of time had completely fallen apart. Some days he felt like a very, very old man. Others he felt like a child just looking for his big brother.

It took another week for him to crack.

This time, he'd rescued Tadashi from a falling tree only to have him die of a sudden heart attack. A heart attack. Since when did Tadashi get heart attacks? And how on earth was he supposed to stop a heart attack? Go back into time and make sure his brother ate healthy and got plenty of exercise?

Defibrillators, he thought glumly as he sat down on a chair to dab at the scrape he'd gotten pushing Tadashi out of the way. Too little, too late. 

That was absurd. How could he be too late for anything when he had a working time machine?

He gave up on first aid, overturning the kit from his lap, unremorsefully stepping over the bandages and swabs that fell to the floor. Where was he going to get defibrillators, much less someone who knew how to use them?

Baymax.

He hadn't seen the robot for a while. That...that was his fault.

"Ow," he said loudly, involuntarily releasing pent-up pain into the cry. The result was instantaneous. Baymax appeared, dust floating off his red case.

"Hello, Hiro."

"Hey." Hiro was curt, business-like, refusing to admit that deep down he was just a little glad to see his old friend again. "I need your help." Fitting Baymax into the cramped Chronos II would be a struggle, but he'd manage. "Okay, just--"

"I heard a cry of distress. I will scan you for injuries."

"I don't need a scan, I need you to--" Of course it was futile. Baymax performed the scan in seconds.

"Hiro, you appear distressed. Your hormone levels show that your stress levels are abnormally high. You are also dehydrated and sleep-deprived. I suggest you take a break."

Frustrated, Hiro ran a hand through his hair, feeling his stress rise even as he spoke. "I don't need a health check now, Baymax, I need you to get in the machine."

"It would be advisable--"

Even his own robot wouldn't listen to him now, much less the streams of time, and irritation turned into anger. And then all the bottled sorrow and rage of the past few weeks came roaring back, sapping what was left of his breath, and Hiro rammed a fist into the side of the Chronos II. "Can't you just do what I tell you to for once?"

Of course he knew that was unfair; by disobeying him once Baymax had saved him. He was the one that couldn't get anything right. Tadashi had pushed so hard to get him into college, and now here he was, sitting in a garage with a dirty hoodie and a useless time machine. 

Baymax's voice, measured and artificial, cut through the silence. "Hiro, I think you should wait until your emotional state has stabilized before using the machine. I will not deactivate until you are satisfied with your care."

Until you are. Not until you say you are. Not until you put a band-aid over a gaping wound and say you're fine, everything's fine.

I am not satisfied with my care.

That last drop broke down what was left of his walls. "Shut up," Hiro cried, hating himself for saying it, hating himself for failing, for everything. "I'm not satisfied, okay? No one is satisfied. I will never be satisfied. I can't. Not with Tadashi gone." 

And then he was sliding to the floor, the coolness of the Chronos II gliding past his cheek, burying his head in his arms--tired, so tired--sobbing like the world had just ended--and perhaps it had.

Then Go Go came back.

She had fear and fire in her eyes, and she barely seemed to see Hiro crumpled on the floor, cutting a path straight to the time machine. "Hiro, we need to fix this."

Even in that second she was struck by how horribly old her friend looked. Gaunt more with stress than with hunger, skin stretched over cheekbones, fresh dark circles under his eyes. What have you been doing to yourself? 

All for Tadashi, everything for Tadashi, which made the painful irony of her mission even more acute.

She managed to get the door open, turned back to Hiro. "How do you work this? Come on, come on, there isn't time."

He managed to rise, shaky, feeling like the world was spinning around him. "What? I don't understand--"

"Wait, you don't know?" Go Go stared at him, incredulous.

"I don't know what?" Hiro put one hand against the Chronos II, too spent to try and figure out what was going on. 

"Hiro, your aunt is dead."

"What?" He reeled backwards, stumbling into Baymax, clutching his head. "How--when--why--"

"She was mugged walking to the bank from the cafe. She got shot."

Hiro felt like he was going to be sick. "And what can I--"

Go Go went on. "And she died because Big Hero 6 wasn't there to save her."

And then he was sick, almost, only vaguely feeling Baymax rush forth to support him, the salt of tears mixing with the taste of bile in his throat. 

"She probably wasn't the only one, Hiro. I don't know how many people were killed or injured or robbed because we weren't there. And so far I've let it pass. But this time--your own aunt--it's gone too far. We need to set things back the way they were."

A fog. A thick fog, surrounding him, clouding his thoughts, impossible to push through. "I still don't understand."

"The butterfly effect. Like that story we read. One small change in time, and you'll set off thousands of other changes no one can predict. Tadashi didn't die in the fire. Who knows what might happen because of that?"

The truth, smashing through the fog, brilliant and terrible like a blade of death. He could see it, and still he refused it. "But I can save him, Go Go." Even as he said the words he realised their awful futility. Even if he could save Tadashi would he not be sacrificing a hundred lives for his?

"No, you can't." She said this with such finality that he wondered what else she knew.

"But surely--surely there must be one version of time where he lives. I can find it, I just need more--"

"More time." Go Go laughed, bitter. "Don't you get it? No matter what you do, there is no version of time where Tadashi lives."

"Why?" 

"It's a paradox, Hiro. If he hadn't died, you wouldn't have built the time machine in the first place. But the time machine still exists. Therefore, for this present to exist, Tadashi has to die."

Still the fog, and every time a bit of it was cut away it pained him. This last revelation went straight to his already shattered heart. "So I can't save him."

"You can't save him. You can try, and try, but you'll be caught in a loop forever, and at the end of it all you still wouldn't have saved him."

He was shaking, uncontrollable. "What do I have to do?" 

"You know," she said, and he did.

"Callaghan?" The few defences he had left were almost laughably weak.

Go Go shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is the fire never happened. We've messed things up, Hiro, and we need to fix them."

We. No, that wasn't right. This was his fault. All of it. Messing in things he had no right to mess in. 

What would one man's life--or death--matter in the scope of the universe?

Too much, he thought, and yet nothing at all.

"And the others?"

Again she shook her head. "They have no idea. There was no time machine for them. For them things have always been this way. It's just us, Hiro, here in this garage. What are we going to do?"

Hiro looked towards the Chronos II, fog still swirling. One last doubt, only slightly defiant. "How do you know it will work?"

"I don't." Go Go's face twitched, a fault in a mask of strength. "I don't know it will work. But it's the only thing we can do."

Baymax stepped forth. Hiro wasn't sure how much of the discussion he'd understood. But when he spoke he tore away the last shreds of fog and broke the last of Hiro's will. "This is what Tadashi would have wanted."

Light, blinding light, unbearable pain, and then sudden, utter calm. 

He knew what he had to do.

It was time to turn back.

~~~

Go Go offered to go with him, but he refused. He had started this alone, and he would have to end it alone. So very, very alone.

He started up the Chronos II for the last time. As he travelled back to the day of the showcase he felt the same numbness he had felt on his first trip. Numbness, and coldness, and a complete lack of emotion of what he was about to do next.

He walked to the showcase hall, waited for the last few people to leave. At 10.30 sharp the hall was empty and silent save for the strange buzzing in his ears. He didn't know where Callaghan was; he didn't need to know.

All he needed was to splash out the gasoline and pile the nearest exhibits on it and douse the entire thing with more gasoline and then light a match. It caught fire beautifully. The crackling of the flames filled the quiet of the hall.

He left. 

He went home.

Go Go and Baymax were waiting there for him. They took apart the Chronos II into small pieces and brought them to the backyard. He destroyed those, too.

TIME & TIME AGAIN (Error: Not Saved Chapter Four)

CHAPTER FOUR: TIME & TIME AGAIN

He did go back. Again and again and again.

This time he delayed Tadashi long enough for the truck to miss him. This time, following the brothers like an anxious ghost, he stayed long enough to see a piece of cement fall from a nearby building and hit Tadashi on the head.

Hiro went back to throw the cement off the building minutes before Tadashi arrived. It didn't hurt anyone, but it scared enough people for the city to get that roof checked.

The next time it was a crazed gunman. Back home Hiro puzzled on how to stop him. He reached for his super suit and then realised it wasn't in its usual place under his desk. After fifteen minutes of searching, he finally made the connections. If Tadashi had just died because of a stray truck or a loose chunk of cement or a one-off psychopathic case, well--

There wouldn't have been a need for Big Hero 6 in the first place. 

Hiro ran a nervous hand through his hair, a little disturbed. He hadn't bargained that altering one link in the chain would change things this much. And losing the superhero team that had formed so much of his life, his purpose, for the past few years--it made him feel half-empty, like a tin can with one too many holes.

But he shook the feeling off, filling his mind once more with his single, crucial goal. Big Hero 6 suddenly vanishing hurt, to be sure, but what did it matter in the grand scheme of things? No. It didn't even matter what had even happened to Callaghan, not when Hiro was going to bring someone as angelically good as Tadashi back where he should be.

Besides, he'd started this, and he'd come this far. Even if he'd wanted to turn back he wasn't sure how.

And so Hiro spent hours jumping back and forth in time, tracking down the mystery shooter, and seizing the moment when he left his gun in his truck to buy a soda to load the weapon with blanks. By the time he made it back home he felt strangely disoriented, his head spinning, unable to tell how much time had passed. He also felt crushing disappointment, because he knew right away that, once again, it hadn't worked. The garage was too empty, the house too still.

Resolved not to ask Aunt Cass and see her crumble again, Hiro instead began to look for his old diary. Surely he would be able to figure out from the old scribblings how Tadashi had died this time. 

The garage was filled with piles and piles of scrap parts and junk, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen the journal.Maybe behind the shopping cart. Or dumped with the dusty manuals that lined one wall.

He searched for forty-five minutes, throwing things heedlessly to the floor in his rush, only stopping when a wrench hit him square in the shin and he hopped around anguished for a few moments. It was at that inopportune moment that Baymax chose to inflate.

"Hiro, I heard a cry of distress," the robot said, walking over and knocking over a precarious stack of toolboxes. Hiro watched incredulously as Baymax bent ever-so-slowly to pick the boxes up, then, shaking his head impatiently, turned back to his task. It took Baymax several minutes to tidy up the mess. Then he stood and planted himself firmly right in front of the pile Hiro was planning to search next.

"Baymax, get out of the way, please." He didn't have time for this. This was ridiculous.

"I will scan you for injuries."

"No."

But Baymax insisted, and then insisted on treating him, and finally Hiro snapped in exasperation, "I am satisfied with my care!"

Was it just him, or did the robot give him a baleful look as he stepped back into his casing?

After that, even when in his rush he bruised shins and banged elbows, he simply bit his lip and remained silent. So too did the red suitcase in the corner remain silent.

Finally he found the journal, shoved in between an ancient desk and the wall, and opened it, hastily turning the soft crackly pages. 

Five minutes later he let the book fall to the floor and stared blankly at the opposite wall.

Food poisoning.

All that work and Tadashi had died because of a stupid bad bonito.

A flicker of doubt began to tug at the corner of Hiro's mind. If he'd left things alone, Tadashi would have died a hero's death, but now no doubt the site of the memorial hall stood empty, and he was dead because of something as insignificant as a spoiled fish sandwich. Was he really making things better? Was this how things were meant to be? Why hadn't it worked?

Why was the world so determined that Tadashi Hamada should die?

~~~

He tried a few more times. Knocked the street food out of Tadashi's hands only to have him fall off his moped. Prevented the accident only to find that someone had kicked Tadashi in the neck during a karate practise session. Kept his brother away from the match only to find that he drowned on a fishing trip.

Hiro dragged his brother out of the water and lay him on the sand, and then returned to his own time, sopping wet, dazed, and so frustrated he wanted to cry. Nothing was working.

It was then that Aunt Cass chose to come in, tray in hand, face creased with concern. "Hiro, didn't you hear me calling? It's time for dinner." 

He started, jerking off the machine and hastily throwing a dusty cloth over it. His stomach rumbled in response to the food piled on the tray, but instead of reaching for it and thanking her he frowned, hating the interruption. 

Besides, he caught a whiff of tuna fish, and that alone completely dissipated any trace of hunger. Instead he turned abruptly back to the computer screen, indicating with a curt wave of his hand that she should leave it on the desk. "I'll eat later."

She lingered, twisting the corners of her apron in hand. "Hiro, I've been worried about you. You've seemed a little preoccupied lately. Last week, you skipped school so many times...are you okay?"

Hiro knew it wasn't fair to her, yet the irritation scratched at him, and the lie slipped easily from his lips. "I'm fine. Just a little busy with a project, that's all." (The second line was true. The first was not.)

"Are you sure?" Eyes darted about the chaotically messy room. "Your friends called today. They were wondering why they couldn't reach your phone."

"It must have been off." 

Then Aunt Cass pressed her lips into a line, chin set and determined. Hiro had seen that face before, one usually followed by a forced bath or a torturous haircut or a dinner where she sat and watched him eat every bite. "It's not good for you, Hiro. You should eat and have a bath. Wasabi has tickets to a tech expo on Sunday. You've wanted to go for half a year. You're going, aren't you?"

Would she take no for an answer? Hiro eyed her surreptitiously from behind a curtain of hair. He thought of all the time he would have over the weekend to work with the Chronos II. If he could just crack this by Friday, then he could go. But not otherwise. "Maybe." 

Still he refused to look her in the eye.

"Hiro, really, I think you need to take a break. It's okay to give yourself a break every once in a while, you know. You're working yourself too hard."

Too hard? If she knew what his mission really was, would she tell him he was working too hard? His scowl deepened, and when he next spoke his voice was low and harsh. "You don't get it. This is important. Now leave me alone."

"I--"

"Just go."

He turned back to the computer, fuming, the action as effective as slamming the door and shutting her out. Her shoulders slumped, watching the boy who was transforming more and more into a man she didn't know. "Okay, okay, I'll just--"

She left.

Hiro's peace, however, was short-lived. Go Go came through the garage door, and from the disapproval on her face he knew she'd heard everything.

She looked at him for a moment, frowning, as if there were something she wanted to say, but she couldn't quite put it into words. He started from his seat also to say something. By then she was gone.

SAVING TIME (Error: Not Saved Chapter Three)

CHAPTER THREE: SAVING TIME

He finished the work on a weekday night. At first it didn't even register, and then he stepped back and realised that he'd created a perfect replica of the Chronos in his garage.

Well, almost perfect. Like he'd thought about, he'd disguised it as a photo booth complete with a working camera. Just to be safe. As safe as he could get with this enormity in his house, anyway. 


Hiro put a hand on the machine, feeling the cool metal under his fingertips. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow and broke into a hesitant, relieved smile. He'd finally done it. All that remained was to go back to the past, stop Tadashi from going into the fire, and live the life he was meant to.

With a start, Hiro glanced up at the calendar and realised that 12:01 tipped him right into April 14th. The day of Tadashi's death. Exactly two years, then. How fitting it felt--as if all the stars had aligned themselves for this fateful moment.

But now he was just being dramatic. Hiro gave himself a little shake and stepped into the Chronos II, skin tingling. The door let out a soft swish as he closed it behind him and sat down gingerly. Swiftly Hiro got rid of the false photo booth cover and into the time travel system. 

Cold and blue, the screen blinked back at him. Strangely, Hiro hesitated for just a second, trembling fingers hovering over the keys. His mind buzzed with pure adrenaline, and he couldn't think straight.

Breathe.

Taking a deep breath, Hiro set the time and date.

April 14, 2032, 10:30 PM.

The night of the showcase. The night of the fire. The night he was going to change forever.

The little red light next to the screen flashed once. A brief, high-pitched beep rang out. In no time at all he'd travelled two years into the past.

Again Hiro took a breath, feeling the still air fill his lungs, and opened the door of the Chronos II.

~~~

To an outsider, the garage wouldn't look any different, but Hiro knew instantly that Chronos II had worked. For one thing, the dark space had a lot less mess, missing the clutter that had accumulated over two years. For another, he could feel it. No matter how unscientific it sounded, he could feel it. Not so much in the place itself, but in his connection to it--he felt floaty, detached, the same way he used to feel on those half-lit evenings when he sat in his beanbag chair and thought about Tadashi.

That same detachment followed Hiro as he left the garage, double-checking the calendar on the wall just to be sure. Usually after a project worked he would celebrate, let out a couple of exhilarated whoops, but this time he only felt devastatingly clear-headed. It wasn't his project. It was his mission. With that he refocused his mind, narrowing his eyes, gulping in breaths of night air, and boarding the train to the Institute.

He had timed his arrival well. As he disembarked and checked his mobile phone the night was still silent and cool, but he knew that the fire had probably already begun to lick at the exhibits in the Showcase Hall. He had memorized the exact time the explosion went off, and ten minutes remained for him to make his way there and stop his brother from making the worst mistake of his too-short life. Yet Hiro couldn't take his time; his steps were powered with a fervent urgency.

Grinding to a halt just outside the hall, Hiro looked up at the imposing building, now engulfed in flames, lighting up the night with an orange glow like a massive funeral pyre. Two years and still the horror was just as fresh. But he couldn't afford to stand there immobilized, no matter the fears screaming in the corners of his mind. At the edge of the fire he saw two small figures, the taller one in a baseball cap standing on the stairs, the shorter one clutching the other's arm, shaking his head in a silent "no."

Hiro ran.

As much as seeing his younger self jolted him, he ran with singleness of purpose, yelling at Tadashi to stop. The confusion in their eyes flashing past him, Hiro rammed straight into his brother, the sixteen-year-old doing what his fourteen-year-old self could not, saving Tadashi through sheer, desperate force. The hapless young man soon recovered from the shock of having a complete stranger bowl into him and started to fight back, but then turned to the Showcase Hall as it blew up, sending out vibrations that knocked all three to the ground.

The sound of the explosion still ringing in his ears, Hiro struggled to his feet. Relief surged over him in a crashing wave, slackening his tense muscles so much he almost fell over again, washing away that cold determination with a burst of warmth.

He'd actually done it. His crazy, stupid, outlandish idea had worked. In spite of everything he'd saved Tadashi, snatched him right back from the fiery jaws of death. 

He'd saved Tadashi.

Said Tadashi--how incredibly good to see him again!--was right then staring at him with a befuddled expression on his beautifully alive face. Next to him Hiro saw a brief puzzlement in 2032-Hiro's eyes. He laughed then, huge, gasping, relieved laughs that threatened to split his face in two. This only increased their perplexity, but still he laughed.

Controlling himself, he levelled a steady gaze at Tadashi, unable to keep the corner of his mouth from turning upwards. "You're welcome," he said cryptically. "Don't do anything else stupid." 

Leaving them at a loss, he headed back to the garage with the job done, feeling like he was floating on air. In a haze of joy he pushed the "return" button. How would Tadashi look two years older? Surely not too different. Surely he would still have that easy smile and reassuring voice that made you feel like you could do anything. Anything--like travelling back in time to save a dead man.

Back in his own time, Hiro fell over the curb of the Chronos II in his excitement, anticipation pricking up his arms. Didn't the garage look just a little more orderly than when he left it? Of course. Tadashi was far more organized than he. At that moment Hiro looked very much as he had as a child: spikes of hair falling into his face, brown eyes wide, flashing a gap-toothed grin. He charged into the house, calling out his brother's name in a loud voice, certain that any moment he would hear a yelled "yes?" in reply.

But no such answer was forthcoming, and Hiro's grin weakened. He searched the house, pounding on doors. Perhaps Tadashi had just fallen asleep? Yet the bed upstairs was desolately empty save for a single baseball cap. Had he gone out? Hiro occupied himself with these questions instead of noticing that the attic room appeared unchanged, ignoring the itching dread at the back of his mind.

Then Aunt Cass came up from the cafe, letting out a little sigh as she stretched tired legs. Hiro bounded down the stairs, striking elbows against the banister. "Where's Tadashi?" he burst out, and watched the exhaustion in her eyes turn into unmixed pain.

"Hiro, I..." His aunt hesitated, voice quavery, stating what he'd been trying to avoid for several minutes. "Don't you remember? Tadashi's gone." She fought tears as he recoiled, speaking in a whisper more to herself than to him. "I thought you were better, Hiro...even in those days you never...how did you forget?"

Hiro barely heard her, too busy with his own demons. Her words forced him to face the truth. It hadn't worked. He'd pushed Tadashi out of the way with his own hands, he'd seen the two brothers leave safely with his own eyes, and yet somehow it still hadn't worked. Tadashi was just as dead as he'd ever been.

Dazed, Hiro stumbled back to the garage and into the stillness of the Chronos II. For a minute he just sat there, head in his hands. What had gone wrong? 

He was going back. He needed answers. That was what they always said at school. If something didn't work the first time, figure out why and fix it. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Hands trembling, he once again keyed in a time and date, only minutes after he'd stopped Tadashi from going into the fire. What had happened in those minutes? Had Tadashi run in anyway? It would be just like him.

But no. As Hiro once again traced the steps to the Institute, steps he'd walked hundreds of times and would walk hundreds of times more, he saw the two figures moving away from the inferno. His relief, though, was short-lived, because though it wasn't the fire something had happened, and he needed to find out what.

Then he saw it. 

It came around the bend too fast, a mass of screaming metal, and before either Hiro could react it smashed into their brother, who crumpled to the ground like a loose-jointed doll.

Hiro's blood was rushing, yet he took far, far too long to reach Tadashi and fall to his knees beside him. "No, no, no," he muttered, feeling at Tadashi's wrist, looking wildly about for anyone, anything that might help, but knowing from one look at that white face that his brother was dead.

The younger Hiro too had fallen to the ground, but he wasn't hurt, only winded, and staring at the sky in shock. Hiro gazed into those enormous young eyes--how strange to see them on the face of another--and felt an immeasurably heavy sadness. 

"I'll come back," he promised, and left once more for his own time.

He didn't see the tiny robot thrown out of a jacket pocket and flopping on the floor.

MAKING TIME (Error: Not Saved Chapter Two)

CHAPTER TWO: MAKING TIME

It was night by the time he got home, after bumping shoulders with top research scientists and janitors alike on the packed monorails. Hiro heaved open the door to the garage with one hand and entered, sniffing the air acrid with motor oil. The place looked and felt like home, but something was off. Or maybe it was just Hiro, undecided like an off-kilter top.

With a trembly sort of sigh he sat down on his roller chair and spun it around. Again he tugged out the scanner and ran his hands across the ridged surface. 

Was he really going to do this? 

The time he'd spent with those dear to him should have helped him accept his loss. He'd said goodbye to Tadashi a hundred times. Everything he'd learnt--was he just going to rewrite it all?

Hiro stopped the chair with his feet and started spinning the other way, a confused scowl etched into his face. It felt wrong. And yet at the same time it felt irrevocably right.

Because he'd wished a thousand times that Tadashi would come back. If he had a genie and three wishes, he knew, none of the other wishes would matter. Just that one. 

The very fact that Tadashi had died was wrong. Like a cosmic mistake. A typo in the great story of the universe. Hiro imagined the narrative as it should have played out: Tadashi attending school with him in the fall, Tadashi helping them to stop Callaghan, Tadashi with the six of them laughing and talking and alive. Even the thought alone made Hiro catch his breath.

He didn't believe in genies, but in his hand now he had a lamp just as good. He wasn't going to throw this chance away. 

So he killed the little voice in his head that said "no," and got to work.

~~~

Hiro worked so long and so hard that he only raised his head when the sun striking off his tools got in his eyes. The time travel program had been successfully downloaded, though it was mystifyingly complex. The scanner had not failed him--the plans were flawless, almost as good as blueprints. But that meant the machine would also take an intimidatingly long time to build. 

With a start, he realised morning had come, and he also realised that if he didn't hurry he wouldn't make it to school on time, again. 

Characteristically, he decided to forget it. He could take one day off. What did it matter? He was changing time. The melodrama of his project had started to get to him. Rewriting the course of history. Turning back the once-irreversible hands of the clock. Yet most true and important was still the thought of seeing Tadashi again.

And again he started to work, as eagerly as befit his task. The sweat that dripped down his face, though, stemmed from more than just plain enthusiasm. Once again, as he had two years ago trying to stop Callaghan, Hiro had a mission he was determined to finish, and it showed in the almost manic way in which he drew up plans and printed parts. He stopped briefly to grab an energy bar at lunchtime, chewing on it as he waited for plates to be sanded. The work flowed pleasantly, rhythmically, and he felt the familiar fire of creation in his bones, but deeper than that lay a passion that both thrilled and frightened him.

Hiro looked to the future, and predicted he would finish the task within the week. Then would come the moment he'd waited for for two numbingly long years. Of course there was the issue that he'd have a functioning time machine in his garage built from stolen schematics. If anyone found out, he'd be in deep water. Perhaps he'd throw a cloth over it. If it came to it, disguise it as a photo booth. Or perhaps the TARDIS. Hiro felt sure he could actually turn it into a working photo booth--

But no matter. All that was immaterial. Within the month he would have his brother back. He didn't need anything else.

Then as the sun began to lower in the sky, a knock sounded on the corrugated metal of the garage door. It startled Hiro out of his creative reverie, and he got up from his seat, stiff and oddly nervous. Before he could call "who's there?" Go Go's voice rang out from behind the door. 

"Open up, nerd."

Hiro froze up for a second. Should he attempt to hide his work? He hadn't got very far along--there was no way she'd be able to guess what he was doing. Still, as a precaution (funny, he'd never been one for precautions)--he closed his tabs and swept the printed parts into a big box before opening the door.

"Hey, Go Go."

"Hey." She parked her bike in the corner and swung herself up onto a table, cutting straight to the chase. "Why weren't you at school today?"

"Um, I just got caught up working on something and decided I could afford a day off." His voice cracked, and Hiro winced. How come he could lie to a stranger so smoothly and completely lose it when attempting to deceive someone he knew? His statement had even been true, technically. "You know how it is."

Go Go nodded. "Okay," she said, though seeming unsatisfied. "What's this you were working on, then?"

Argh. "Just another robot?" he offered weakly. He could see from the suspicious glint in her eyes that she wasn't convinced.

"You didn't answer any of our texts or phone calls," she accused. "Wasabi burnt half of his battery."

"You guys need to chill," Hiro assured her, itching to get back to his work. "I'm fine. I'll be there tomorrow, I promise."

But he wasn't. Nor was he the next day. Or the day after that. Chronos II, as he liked to call it in his mind (cheesily, he had to admit), had an unbreakable grip on him. He worked late into the night and all the way into the morning. His face seemed to have settled into a permanent expression of intense concentration. His fingers hurt from days of furious fixing and typing, but he soon learned to ignore the pain--or, better yet, wear it as a badge of pride.

Hiro supposed he should be thankful that Aunt Cass had a busy week at the cafe. Probably he should also be thankful that his friends dropped by to check in every day, but really it annoyed him. He felt terrible that it annoyed him, yet he couldn't possibly constantly attempt to hide his work every time he heard footsteps.

Never mind; once Tadashi was home they'd both have plenty of time to spend with their friends. Of course he'd have to explain how Tadashi was suddenly...not-dead. 

He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

So he continued his work. Days Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven. Hiro should have finished by Seven, but some unexpected bumps came up, and he reset his schedule for Nine.

Naturally Go Go figured it out on Day Eight. Naturally she would be the one to figure it out.

Foggy with lack of sleep, Hiro had somehow forgotten to close his tabs this time, and her eagle-sharp eyes instantly picked out the title in the bottom corner.

"Chronos II?" Her exclamation snapped Hiro out of his trance, and he rushed forward to regain control of the computer. Then her voice lowered. "Hiro, what's this?"

"A robot," he muttered, avoiding her piercing gaze, afraid it was all over.

"No it's not, bonehead. You're building a time machine." Her words struck sharp, barbed, certain. "And--" One could practically see the gears turning in her head. "And you stole the plans." A crack came into her voice, which made Hiro look up. "Hiro, why?"

Again he looked away, unable to meet her condemning eyes. "You know why."

"No, I--" she started and then stopped again, stricken. "Yes. Yes, I do."

For an eternity an awful silence hung in the room.

Then she burst out again, breaking the calm, her perplexed anger like a swirling storm. "Hiro, you need to stop. You can't do this. I won't let you."

Hiro flinched, instinctive, but then set his jaw firmly. "I'm sorry, Go Go, but you can't stop me."

"You can't do this," she repeated, so tense it was dangerous. Yet Hiro too looked like a rope ready to snap any minute--a rope that was the only thing holding back a devastating force. "It's too dangerous. And stupid. You--you just can't."

Hiro looked at her. Of course he'd never thought for a moment that she would understand. "I have to, Go Go. Don't you get it? Tadashi--you knew him, Go Go. You knew what he was like."

He could see her nodding, still furious but nodding. "He was so good, Go Go. The best person I've ever known. He didn't deserve to die. And I need him. We all need him."

Hiro was struggling now. "Now I have the chance to bring him back, Go Go. And no matter what happens I'm going to take it. I don't care if you don't understand. I have to do this. I have to." He blinked the hot tears out of his eyes and waited for her response.

She made none except shaking her head and turning to leave.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" he called after her, hoping against hope.

Go Go turned back, one hand on the door, her dark jagged hair shadowing her face so he couldn't see her eyes. Hiro waited, half afraid of her answer. 

"No, I'm not going to tell."

BUYING TIME (Error: Not Saved Chapter One)

Summary: Hiro thinks he's accepted Tadashi's death, until a newspaper headline gives him a way to rewrite the story. What lengths will he go to to bring his brother back?

CHAPTER ONE: BUYING TIME

The newspaper normally didn't catch his eye. But today, halfway out the door to school, he stopped, turned, picked it up, and stared at the headline.

FIRST SUCCESSFUL TRIAL OF TIME MACHINE.

Hiro raised eyebrows in surprise--now this was news--and read on.

Yesterday, Dr. Suzume Saito and her team accomplished what up to now has been only science fiction. After years of research and preliminary testing, they conducted the first successful trial of a time machine.

This test involved Dr. Saito going back five minutes in time, writing "It worked" on an apple with a laser pen, and returning back to the present. When she arrived back in the present, the words were clearly visible on the apple, showing that through this time machine--named Chronos for the god of time--one can affect the past and consequently the present.

"This is revolutionary," Dr. Robledo, one of the scientists working on the project, told us. "This means that time is very different from what we imagined. It's as groundbreaking as Newton's discovery of gravity. We're excited to see what happens next--and if we manage jumping into the future, too, we could do it anytime we want."

Dr. Saito declined to comment. 

For some reason Hiro's heart was thudding hard. He could feel his pulse in his ears. He devoured the rest of the article, ignoring the persistent tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Something was poking at the back of his mind, straining to break through.

A time machine.

Affect the past.

And suddenly it came to him. An idea so wonderful, so terrible, that for several minutes Hiro stood frozen and pale like a statue of ice.

Change the past.

Slowly, dreamlike, he finished the last sentences of the article.

Chronos will be exhibited at the Krei Tech Expo over the weekend. The project was sponsored by Krei Tech Industries.

Krei. Krei was everywhere, it seemed. But Hiro didn't complain this time. He had saved Krei's life once. 

It was time for Krei to repay a debt, and for Hiro to right a two-year-old wrong.

The clock struck nine. He was late.

It didn't matter.

~~~

He'd thought he'd gotten over Tadashi's death, but he'd been wrong. 

He'd just...given up. Resigned himself to a reality he'd been forced to accept. After all, he couldn't bring Tadashi back from the dead, could he? 

Except now he could, and it was this possibility--no matter how thin and nebulous--that made his heart stick tight in his throat.

Despite the thick hoodie he wore, Hiro shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on his skin, as Dr. Saito took the podium. He found his mind drifting, and had to constantly rein it back in. Sure, he'd found most of this same information through feverish Internet-scouring, but she might say something important.

Fifteen minutes later and she'd still delivered nothing new. Hiro knew how "groundbreaking" and "revolutionary" this tech was. He just wanted to get his hands on it. Forcing himself to unclench his fists, the teenager tried to settle back into his chair and think some sense. Of course she just wasn't going to tell everyone and his mother how to build a time machine. What was he thinking?

(From the risky, stupid, craziness of his idea, perhaps he wasn't thinking at all.)

So he excused himself from the lecture. The time machine itself would take centre stage in the exhibit. He wanted to be first to get there before the crowds began to stream towards it. In his pocket he fingered the tiny scanner he had snuck in.

Hiro skidded to a stop outside the Chronos exhibit. It looked so innocuous, grey and nondescript and block-like. But he knew it held the key to everything he'd ever wanted.

And he knew that Krei, standing outside the exhibit like a proud papa, held the key to the machine.

The man was smiling, slick and suave, obviously pandering to the impending crowds. How to get his attention? Hiro hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to make himself any more conspicuous than he had to.

Surely Krei wouldn't refuse a question from an eager SFIT student. The executive was busy and somewhat shady, but here he had a public image to keep up. Hiro found himself relieved he'd worn his college t-shirt today as he walked up.

"Excuse me, sir, could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Hm?" Krei turned, his expression of satisfied complacency replaced by one of slight surprise. He looked Hiro up and down, guarded, but Hiro felt certain he saw a flicker of confused recognition in the man's eyes. "Certainly, young man. What is it?"

Hiro, startled at his own boldness, drew Krei aside. "Mr. Krei, I know it's a big thing to ask, but could I get inside the machine?" He was sixteen years old. But he wasn't above still pulling the occasional puppy dog face to get what he wanted.

Unfortunately, Krei seemed unmoved, except for the fact that he raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, young man, but that's off-limits unless you have a permit." He turned, signalling the end of the discussion.

"And...where could I get a permit?" 

"You can't."

Hiro bit back a sigh. He didn't want to have to pull out the big guns, but you leave me no choice, his inner monologue said. He told it to shut up. This wasn't a spy movie. His brother's life was on the line.

So he moved the conversation back behind the exhibit, gesturing for Krei to follow. The businessman looked mystified, and Hiro knew he didn't have much time, which struck him as comical considering he could practically reach out and touch a functional time machine. 

Low and harried, the teenager spoke. "Look, Mr. Krei, you have to let me in. I'm not going to use it. I just want to...take a look."

Of course Krei wasn't bought so easily. "Kid, I'm telling you, it's not allowed. You're wasting my time." Still, he hesitated, as if trying to remember something that tugged at the edges of his mind.

"Yeah, I look familiar, right?" Hiro was talking more quickly now, skills honed by years of haggling with botfighters. "That's because I am. Remember two years back? The attack on Krei Tech by Callaghan?"

Krei's eyes widened. He remembered, all right. And from the look on his face, it wasn't a pleasant memory. "You're the kid with the robot."

"That's right. The kid who saved you." Hiro felt a prick of guilt at using his hero status to bargain, but he pushed it away, persuading himself that it was all for Tadashi. "So if I say this is important, you better believe it is."

"I...I don't know." For the first time, Krei let slip his uncertainty. Then his voice hardened. "No. I couldn't. There's no way. I'm sorry, but this conversation is over."

Hiro felt his heart plummet within him. That was that, then. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the lecture had ended. Maybe the Q&A could buy him a bit more time.

Time to change tactics.

"You know, Krei, when I was at Akuma Island a teammate of mine picked up a thumb drive."

"A thumb drive?" Krei put on a mask of calm, but Hiro could see the man struggling. Again that niggling guilt. He felt like he was watching a worm wriggle on a fish hook.

"Yeah, a thumb drive." Despite his misgivings, Hiro managed to keep his voice hard. "It was what helped us solve the puzzle. But you know what else was on that thumb drive, Krei? More videos. Dozens and dozens of them, Krei. Outlining unsafe experimentation. Downright unethical deals." Coldly, Hiro watched the fear come into Krei's eyes. "I don't know why you would even have them on video, Krei. Seems like a massive mistake on your part."

"You wouldn't."

Hiro pressed on, unrelenting. "We let it slide because it seemed that you mended your ways. But I'm telling you that I, the hero of San Fransokyo, need to step into the time machine for just one moment and that it's crucially important." He paused for emphasis, swallowing the needy desperation that wanted to creep into his voice. "I don't want to have to do this, Krei, but you're forcing me to." 

The businessman--once such an imposing figure in Hiro's eyes--blanched. 

He had him.

"Five minutes," Krei said, holding up as many fingers. It was more than enough.

Krei opened the door painfully slowly, as if trying to regain his lost dignity. As he moved away from Chronos, he shot Hiro a look of pure venom. 

Deliberately ignoring him, Hiro stepped in, softly. He closed the metal door behind him with a clanking sound and glanced around at his surroundings. The interior of Chronos took him by surprise. For some silly reason, he'd imagined an outdated fantasy of glowing buttons and dinging buzzers. Instead he found himself in a spartan space, with only slightly shiny pale walls and a single screen on the central one. The sounds of the crowd outside were muffled into a pleasant hum.

But he had no time to look around. Hiro pulled the device out of his pocket and hastily began the scan. It was a matter of seconds--he'd easily updated and then shrunk the technology to pierce through every metal cover and detect even the tiniest works in the system. Then he moved to the screen, disregarding the blinking display to hack into the system and download the program onto a single chip. What a world, he mused, as he stepped out of Chronos again, that he could gain the blueprints to building a time machine in under a minute. 

He nodded a "thank you" to Krei, who nervously tugged at his diamond cufflinks. But Alistair Krei was never nervous. "That's all I wanted," Hiro said, and then left the hall, the minuscule scanner and chip somehow weighing down his pocket. 

Behind him Krei looked visibly shaken.

Hiro stepped out into the darkening city, watching day fade into night. That had been easy. Should it have been so easy?

First he'd guilt-tripped the man, holding a good deed like a ball and chain. Then he'd resorted to blackmail, which had come to him almost like second nature. He'd covertly scanned a machine and halfway stolen another scientist's work. On top of all that, he'd led Krei to believe this was for some big, heroic act of saving the city.

The scanner became deadweight, and he swallowed down the rising lump in his throat.

He certainly didn't feel like a hero. But he didn't feel like a villain, either. He was saving his brother. Tadashi was a true hero. His very presence would make the world a better place, wouldn't it? And what did they say about the end justifying the means? Bringing Tadashi back--that was a truly heroic thing to do. Did it really matter how he did it?

And then Hiro found that he was shaking, too.