Hiro was sitting on the ground, elbows on his knees, chin propped in his hands. It had been a lot to take in, but now that it was all out in the open, Hiro grasped the concept a little more clearly. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, the wall of the gums sore. Callaghan was silent, letting the moment settle and the news mull over. His brows scrunched together as he let his mind wander, tracing over each detail Callaghan had given, recalling it from memory and applying it to their past fights.
"And you're not lying to me," Hiro asked, glancing up.

Callaghan stared back at him, a sad expression on his face. "You have no reason to trust me, Hiro. But, you know I wouldn't lie- it wouldn't do me any favors in here."
Hiro sighed.
"So, let me get this straight. Hydra approached you about Project Silent Sparrow after Krei's failure, but Hydra was involved before it?" Hiro rubbed a hand down his face, groaning in annoyance. It was all so much to go over, a whole past opinion to change.
"Hydra was interested in Silent Sparrow before the..."
"Accident," Hiro said, his jaw tight. Callaghan glanced at him, looking hesitant. In the end, he let out a sigh and relented.
"Accident, yes. But, Krei wasn't interested in working with them at the time. When the project went wrong and Krei failed to secure Abigail's return, Hydra turned to me. I was desperate, Hiro."

So, Hydra had chosen Callaghan because of his vulnerability? Thinking from the point of view as Hydra, what little he knew about them, Hiro figured it was the best choice. Krei would be unwilling to continue the project, having failed so miserably. He was a lost cause. But, Callaghan? Callaghan would want to enact revenge and who better to supply his hunger than Hydra themselves?
"You said you would finish the project," Hiro asked, glancing up again, fingers twisting in the pull-strings of his sweatshirt. "That's why they told you where the portal was."
"Yes. And I, in return, promised to help them complete the project. Hiro, you don't understand what Hydra could do with that portal. You don't know who these people are."
"Yes, I do," Hiro said, suddenly sitting up straight, "I know what kind of people they are, and I know what they're capable of. The only person I didn't know, it seems, was you." He moved to stand, stretching his limbs to loosen them from their cramped positions.

He could see Callaghan's expression shift between hurt and understanding. Hiro turned away from him, choosing to ignore any silent attempts at sympathy.
"It made more sense when it was just you behind the curtain, Professor," Hiro mumbled, glancing over his shoulder once he steeled his nerves, "Now that I know the truth, well... I guess you have a lot to think about, don't you?" He moved to begin walking down the hall.
"Hiro, wait!"
Callaghan's voice caught him off guard and he turned, brows pressed in a hard line, an annoyed expression on his face. Callaghan was leaning against the bars, trying to see him.
"What?"
"For what it's worth," Callaghan said, voice echoing quietly in the hall, "I'm sorry about Tadashi. If I could go back and fix it-."
"You can't," Hiro said, his voice shaking, "What's done is done. Things are in a new angle. Maybe you should work on finding yours." He crossed his arms over his chest and made his way out, asking the guard to let him back into the lobby. He didn't hear Callaghan speak after that, nor did he expect him to.

Scott was waiting in the lobby, slouched in a chair and scrolling on his phone. He seemed so focused, expression serious as he tapped a few spots on the screen. Such a drastic change in company had Hiro feeling whiplash. He scrubbed his hand down his face, huffing loudly. He walked over, arms still crossed, looking tense. The man immediately lowered his phone and blinked in mild surprise.
"You're done already? That didn't take too long."
"Wasn't much to talk about," Hiro grumbled, nudging the tip of his shoe against Scott's worn sneaker, "Anyway, I got what I needed. Let's get out of here." Scott stood up, stretching his arms and tucking his phone back into his pocket.
"You satisfied?"

Hiro shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, digging his fingers into the lint lining. He didn't know how to answer the question. Was he satisfied with his answers? No. Not at all. There was so much left unsaid and much more to uncover. Was he satisfied knowing the truth? Maybe. Yet, the pain of losing his brother seemed to surface with the new information. Hydra being deeply involved in the events of his past was both horrifying and oddly expected. Before he'd know of Hydra, he thought Callaghan was the worst kind of person he'd ever encountered. After Hydra, he knew that there were worse people in varying numbers. To say he was satisfied with Callaghan's answers would be both the truth and a lie. He sighed and started walking towards the doors, Scott right behind him.
"I guess," he finally replied as they left the building.

The crisp air and chilly wind rushed through his hair the instant they made it outside. Hiro turned his head, eyes scanning the glowing buildings of San Fransokyo. The night life was always active, painting the sky in blues and pinks. He stepped down the front steps and let out a sigh, watching his breath coil into the air, blown away by the wind.
"Shit, it's cold," Scott complained, moving towards the van and unlocking the doors, "Come on, kid. Hurry up."
Hiro frowned. They were in San Fransokyo and the reopened wound of his brother's death, the salt of Hydra within the laceration- it made him miss Baymax. It brought upon that sinking feeling in his gut that had him yearning for his Aunt Cass- to scoop up Mochi and attach an invention onto him. Everything was as it should be, and yet, he felt so unsatisfied with life and everything in between each moment. He stood by the van door, debating on asking Scott to drive him by the café or let him walk. He heard the man call his name and he looked up, peering at Scott through the window.

"Come on, Hiro." He pulled open the door and climbed inside.
"We're done here, right?"
Hiro swallowed thickly and felt the painful lump in his throat.
"Yeah," he said, looking over at Scott. The man gave him a concerned look.
"You okay?"
Hiro buckled his seat belt and let his hand linger on the lock. One press and a yank of a handle and he could run back home. He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts linger, mulling over his options. The safest one was still the hardest.
"Yeah. Let's go."

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive back to Old San Francisco was easy and hardly anything worth noting. Hiro busied himself with staring out of the window, brows furrowed as they drove through winding streets and steep hills. He wasn't sure what to do with all the newfound anger and pain. He wanted, badly, to find every Hydra agent involved with Silent Sparrow and get rid of them. Even so, he knew that was the most dangerous and poor choice he could make. He scrubbed his hand down his face, sighing heavily.
"You know, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack," Scott commented, looking over at him. Hiro glanced at the man, large brown eyes staring from the spaces between his fingers.
"I'm seventeen."
"Dude. Heart attacks aren't ageist."
"What?"
"I'm just saying, they sneak up on you. One day you're fine, the next it's like that chest burster from Alien is clawing out of your ribcage."
"That doesn't relate to a heart attack at all," Hiro said, snorting between his words. It didn't take long for the two of them to begin laughing at the ridiculous comparison.

Scott turned into the driveway and hit the brakes. Hiro nearly slammed into the dashboard of the van, his seat belt locking, causing a tight pressure on his chest. He gasped, wheezing as he looked up through the windshield.
"Why the hell did you stop?"
"There's someone else here."
Hiro squinted, noticing the street light's rays bouncing off a white van in front of the Pym home. He looked at Scott, trying to read his facial expression. The man leaned forward and looked up, trying to see if there were any suspicious people on the rooftop. Hiro didn't spot any, but he also couldn't see very well. The sky was dark, and the outside of the home was barely lit.
"Hank would have called you, right?"
"Should have," Scott replied.
"Then let's get in there and find out why there's a creepy horror film vehicle in the front."

They left the van quietly and made their way towards the front door. Hiro didn't see any suspicious signs of Hydra agents or anyone else. In fact, there were no broken windows, from what he could see, and the door was still on its hinges. Scott unlocked it, and Hiro sighed in relief. No one would just lock the door once they broke in. That had to be a good sign, right? Lang pushed open the door, leaning inside to peer into the dimly lit living room. Hiro leaned around his side, looking in the home. The living room was quiet, save for the ticking of the large clock. The hallway was empty and not a single picture was out of place of askew. The carpet was still aligned properly and the various pieces of furniture adorning the home were unmoved, molded to ancient places.
"I don't see anything," Scott mumbled, but Hiro promptly punched his side. Scott let out a quiet yelp, grabbing his no doubted bruising side. Hiro's knuckles were bony and a punch with them was like three sharp rocks in a forceful swing.
"I hear voices."

Hiro strained to listen. Sure enough, as silence fell between them and the ticking of the clock was pushed to the background, muffled voices became clearer. One was Hank's, an old and gravely tone that often followed a sarcastic remark. The other was one Hiro didn't recognize and, by the expression on Scott's face, wasn't apparent to him either. Hiro wiggled between the doorframe and Scott's body, inching into the hall. As they tip toed comically through the hallway, Hiro sliding his feet on the carpet more than lifting them, the muffled voices soon developed into words. Hiro stopped short of the doorway to Hank's office, Scott right behind him. The older man leaned forward, Hiro doing the same. Hiro could hear Hank sigh and the sound of footsteps pacing.
"They should be back soon," Hank replied, "Though, I can't say I'm willing to let the suit out with Stark running around. He's liable to play his father's role in everything."
"That's the thing," the other voice replied, something throwing off his vocals. He was tossing something up and down in the air. Hiro could hear the whistling of whatever it was as it coursed up and down. "We're not exactly keen on Tony right now."

Tony? Tony Stark? Hiro leaned his head around the corner, curiously scanning the room for a check. Hank was facing the doorway, a man's back facing them. Hiro made eye contact with Hank and gave him a questioning look. Scott must have been doing the same, if Hank's bemused expression was anything to go by.
"You guys sure took your time," the stranger said, turning his head, "Can't say we have much of that left."

Hiro blinked in mild surprise and Scott let out an audible, and undignified, curse. Hiro pushed himself away from the doorway and stepped inside. The man was clad in all black, but that wasn't what caught Hiro's attention. In fact, it was the long bow strapped to the man's back. There was only one man he knew of that handled a bow with such skill and dexterity; only one that carried it with him with pride and honor. He hadn't met him personally, but he'd read all about him. Anyone who was anyone knew the Avenger with the bow and arrows. Hiro felt a grin forming and, before he could help it, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Holy shit. It's Hawkeye."