Big Hero 6 x Reader One Shots (2)

(311): Grief (Wasabi) (Part Two)

Part two~

(Unedited).

"___, maybe you should call your mom," Wasabi suggests. "You've been here for three days and she has no idea. Tell her that you're here. Ask how she's doing."

You shake your head. You're at the foot of his bed, your head in your hands. "No."

"Why not?" He asks, sitting down beside you.

"Because she'll tell me that he's gone and that it's okay because he's in a better place. I don't want him in a better place. I want him here. A-And anyways, we don't know that he's gone. He could of escaped out the back door. He could be out there." You lift your head. "He's out there and I have to find him." You stand up. Wasabi reaches out and snatches your wrist. You slowly turn your head to face him.

"You and I both know that he's not out there," Wasabi says softly. "I know that it's hard to accept-" You yank your hand from his grasp and stumble forward. You balance yourself on his dresser. "___, it's okay to-" You squeeze your eyes shut as tightly as you can. The tears still leak out of the corners.

"No!" You suddenly shout. Your teeth are clenched so tightly that your gums ache. You swing a hand out, knocking all of Wasabi's things onto the floor. Neatly organized textbooks, picture frames, candles, and a glass vase. They crash to the floor. You push yourself away and fall in the mess.

"___!" Wasabi shouts, but his voice is fading away in your sorrow. Your fingers curl around the thick carpet and you lean forward. You let out a wail and shake your head. "___!"

"Why did this happen to me?" you scream. You beat your fists against the carpet over and over, your anger fuming inside of you. "I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't-"

"___, stop!" Wasabi's panicked voice breaks through your anger. You open your eyes and take a gasping breath. "___, open your hands," he says, his arms sliding down your shoulders and going to your wrists. You obey. A stinging pain erupts in your hand and you whimper. "You need to move. Get out of this stuff."

"I-I-" You look at what you've done. Wasabi's candle jars broken, his vase shattered. Pieces of the ceramic are what is cutting into your skin.

"Come on, ___," Wasabi urges.

"No," you say, trying to jerk out of his grasp.

"___, I swear I will drag you out of here if I have to," Wasabi's voice rises. This surprises you; Wasabi has never raised his voice at you before. You stop struggling and fall limp in his arms. He helps you to your feet and guides you to the small bathroom across the hall. He takes a first aid kit out from the bottom of the sink and opens it. Every compartment is labeled and neatly organized. Needle and thread, alcohol, cotton balls, ibuprofen, gauze. Wasabi takes out a pair of tweezers and pats the bathroom counter. You turn to sit on it. He helps you, since your hands are injured. He immediately gets to work. "Well, you don't need stitches, so that's good."

You purse your lips. "I'm sorry," you say. "I'm sorry that I broke your things. I'll pay you back."

"That's not necessary," he assures you. "I accept your apology."

"I was just so-"

"Angry," Wasabi finishes. "I know. It's another stage of grief. It's normal." He pulls out a disinfectant spray. "This might sting," he warns.

You hiss in pain as the cold spray burns into your cuts. Tears spring at the corners of your eyes. "Ouch," you mutter.

"I'm sorry," Wasabi says. He reaches up and brushes a tear from your eye away. He goes back to mending you.

After your hands are wrapped, Wasabi leads you to the couch. You have been sleeping on his bed. "Rest here," he orders. "I'm going to go clean up in there." You curl up on the cushion and stare up at the ceiling. You take this alone time as a time to weep for your father.

When he comes back, he sits on the sofa beside you. You don't look at him. You stare at your wrapped hands.

"___, is there anything you'd like for dinner?" he asks.

"I'm not hungry," you reply honestly.

"You have to eat," he says. "I'll order pizza. Okay?"

"If I eat, will you leave me alone?" you reply harshly. Your eyes meet his and his expression saddens.

He purses his lips together. "If that's what you want."

You nod and stand up. You quickly walk into his bedroom and slam the door. As soon as you step inside, your grief consumes you once again. You sink to the floor and sob.

-

Things continue to become quieter as weeks to on. Directly after the funeral, you stopped speaking. You wouldn't say a word. Wasabi would ask a question or comment on something but you wouldn't respond. You did as he said, though. If he told you to eat dinner, take a shower, or drink water, you would agree. He was worried about you. You have basically stopped living.

It's Thursday morning. Wasabi steps inside of his bedroom after school, carrying a covered bowl of soup and a paper bag filled with dinner rolls. "Hey, ___," Wasabi greets you. "Hiro wanted me to give these to you. Aunt Cass made them." You don't respond. You continue to look out the glass window. Wasabi sighs and sets the food down on the nightstand. "You have to eat. Or speak to me, at least. You haven't said a word in four and a half weeks. I know that you lost someone important. Last year, I watched Hiro go through the exact same thing. He kept going, though."

You look down. Wasabi sighs again and turns towards the door. He pauses and says, "You know, if I would have known that the last thing you were ever going to say to me was 'go away', I probably wouldn't of left you alone." He shuts the door.

You sit back and stare at the food. You slowly remove the lid of the bowl and pick up your spoon. You shakily lift it to your lips. Your stomach warms as you eat. When you've ate some of your food, you decide to go to the restroom. You open the bedroom door.

You're surprised to see that Wasabi is already asleep. His laptop is still on and open. You lean over to close the lid but stop at what you see.

How To Help Someone Who Is Grieving

You stop and look at the list of search history that is in the corner of the page.

How can I help?

How long does it last?

The list goes on. You glance down at him and gently close the laptop. This makes him wake up. He jerks upright and rubs his eyes, groaning softly. You step back.

"Wasabi?" you ask softly.

Wasabi freezes. He turns around and sees you. "___. You're up. What-"

"I need you," you interrupt, the tears filling your eyes. "He's not coming back. I know that. I should move on," you pause and look down, "but I can't do it without you. I need you."

Wasabi stands up. "I'm here," he holds his arms out. You quickly walk around the couch and throw your arms around him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I've been a jerk and you've just put up with me."

"That's because I-I'm in love you." Wasabi pulls away. You wipe your eyes and look up at him.

"You what?"

"I shouldn't of told you. Not now, at least." Wasabi shakes his head. "I'm so sorry."

"No," you reply, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. "I'm glad you told me. I'm in love with you, too."

"You are?"

"I wasn't lying when I said that I need you. If I have you, I'll be okay. I can move on. Just help me, alright?"

Wasabi nods. "Of course, ___. I'll be with you every step of the way. I won't ever leave you." He leans down and kisses your forehead. "I love you. I love you so much."

You squeeze your eyes shut and grip his sweater tightly. He lays his cheek against your head. "I love you, too."