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Shiro was Keith’s best friend. He was his brother, his rock to lean on when things got rough. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a two-way street.
It was evident in nights like tonight, in which Shiro staggered into Keith’s room, practically in tears and holding his prosthetic.
Keith didn’t know exactly what kind of pain Shiro suffered through occasionally but knew it was bad. Knew it was bad enough to bring the strongest person he knew to a gasping, spluttering mess. Bad enough to bring him staggering to Keith in the dead of the night, when under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have even so much as bothered Keith for fear of waking him. Keith never minded any of Shiro’s late-night visits. But these ones...these ones made something twist deep inside his gut.
He never knew what to say or do as Shiro leaned against him, gasping in pain. Bit back every question as Shiro pulled his prosthetic close to him and whined.
Keith had heard of phantom pains before. They were common with amputees where their body just kind of forgot that there wasn’t a limb there anymore. Most of the technicalities bored Keith, so he tried to keep in simple with ‘nothing there? Send pain’ and that was that.
He never thought he’d have to see it. And especially not with Shiro.
Shiro got up and kept fighting even when he was beaten. Shiro didn’t fall apart under pressure, he thrived under it. He was so strong.
And yet, here he was. Cradling Shiro close to him while he whined and whimpered with his hand wrapped around where his flesh met metal.
Keith tried to offer reassurances. Little whispers of sweet nothings he hoped were more soothing then they sounded. He wasn’t even quite sure if Shiro heard them through the pain (he’d once described it as a kind of cramping, twisting sensation that got worse with time) but he did it anyway. It was the least he could do. As a teammate. As a friend. As a little brother.
Keith pressed his nose into Shiro’s hair and shut his eyes. A powerful tremor shook Shiro’s body. It was enough to make Keith’s own spine tingle as his body jerked with Shiro’s.
This was the third time this month that Shiro had come to him in unbelievable pain. The pains were getting more frequent. It was worrying, to put it lightly. Before long, they would be another constant in Keith’s already insane life.
Shiro’s jitters began to slow and Keith leaned over to stare down at him. His face was shiny with sweat, eyes screwed shut and forehead creased. He had put himself into Keith’s lap, trying to muffle his moans of pain into his thigh.
“Is Black helping again?” Keith murmured, trying not to move for fear of jostling the metal arm that was under enough pressure already.
Shiro nodded but said no more. Keith could see trails of painful tears making their way down his cheeks. He didn’t mention them.
This couldn’t continue. Not for much longer. Shiro was getting worse and Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this under wraps for much longer. He could only do so much as a support system. He could only comfort him until the pain went away. He could do nothing to ease the pain himself.
“I think you should tell Allura or Coran about this,” Keith said tentatively. He never brought this up as Shiro had always rebutted it. He was afraid of the others seeing him as someone other than a sturdy rock to lean against when things got hard and Keith understood that. At first, he'd had trouble understanding that Shiro was in so much pain and managed to hide it for so long. But even so, enough was enough. Shiro could only handle it on his own for so long, as evident by his approach to Keith. Soon, even Keith wouldn’t be able to help.
As expected, Shiro shook his head. He tightened his grip on his arm. A few stray tears soaked into Keith’s sweatpants.
“I know you don’t want to,” Keith said. “But it’s not getting any better...if anything it’s getting worse.”
“...can handle it,” Shiro whispered, his voice choked from a lump he couldn’t chase away no matter how many times he swallowed. Keith pursed his lips.
“Is that what you said before you came to see me?” He asked and Shiro went still in his lap. He knew it was probably a low blow, but he needed Shiro to understand. To see how much this was not only hurting himself but hurting Keith, too. He hated seeing his older brother in such immense pain. Not that it wasn’t unbecoming of him, it was just hard to watch. Especially when Keith knew Allura and Coran would be more than willing to offer him hundreds of wacky Altean remedies. He pressed his luck and continued. “I’m sure someone on Altea has had an amputation before. They’ve got to have some kind of solution for it.”
Shiro shook his head once again. Keith bit back his exasperated sigh. And he thought he was stubborn.
“They won’t see you any different,” he tried, but his words seemed to fly through one of Shiro’s ears and out the other. He kept trying. “If anything, they’ll probably be upset you didn’t tell them sooner.”
Once again, Shiro was silent. Keith actually did sigh this time. He’d heard phantom pain described once as intense pins-and-needles, like a limb had fallen asleep and then just had a very rude awakening. But this pain was so intense. So raw and real that it had reduced Shiro to silence so he could bear it properly. Keith knew phantom pain could get worse with time but this...this just made him sick to his stomach.
“Shiro,” he murmured. He reached over to brush the white tuft of hair out of Shiro’s face and press his hand to his forehead. The skin was clammy and soaked with sweat. “You need to tell someone. It’ll just get worse...I think.”
There was no response, and for a moment Keith thought he wouldn’t get one. But then Shiro laughed, but it was hoarse and humorless. A weird sound to come from such a strong person’s lips.
“’m so weak,” Shiro whispered. His words were so mixed together it took Keith a moment to realize what Shiro had said.
“No,” Keith said firmly. “No, you’re not. This-” he gestured to the arm. Shiro gripped it tighter. “-does not make you weak. Okay?”
“Supposed to be strong,” Shiro said. He stared stonily at Keith’s wall, clearly holding back tears. “Supposed to be the leader.” He paused. “Can’t be the leader like this.”
Keith froze. “What? N-No, Shiro, that’s not-”
“Weak,” Shiro said. His shoulders trembled with an unseen sob. “Can’t lead like this.”
“Shiro, listen to me,” Keith said firmly. He wasn’t about to let Shiro put himself down like this. Not now, not ever. “Your arm isn’t a weakness. If anything...I think it’s a strength.”
Shiro craned his neck to look at Keith through red-rimmed puffy eyes. “What?”
“That shows what you’ve been through. A-And that’s not a bad thing!” Keith added hastily, realizing his poor choice of words. “It just shows that no matter how many times they beat you down, you kept getting up. If that’s not strong, I don’t know what is.”
“But...the pains-”
“Just show that you’re a survivor,” Keith finished for him. Shiro bit down on his lip, shutting his eyes tightly. Likely another sharp wave of pain had just coursed through him. “That pain is proof that you’re alive. That you made it through whatever they did to you and made it back home to us. That’s...that’s nothing short of incredible.”
Shiro shook his head. “Keith-”
“No,” Keith said. “No more putting yourself down because of that arm. We will never see you as anything other than strong. Leader or not, you’re still the coolest person I know.”
He sounded like Lance, Keith realized. Using his words effectively and to his best merit. Maybe Lance really was starting to rub off on him, regardless of how insufferable he could be at times.
Shiro laughed. “You’re so wise. You know that, Keith?”
Keith looked away, suddenly flustered. “Not really. I just...think you needed to hear that, is all.”
Shiro slowly loosened his grip on his arm and lifted himself up. He rolled his shoulder and sniffed loudly, rubbing at his face. He laughed, but remnants of pain were still creased into his face. Keith reached out to smooth one off of his face.
“I’m disgusting,” Shiro murmured. “All sweaty...I need a shower.”
“Then take one,” Keith said. “Afterward...let’s go tell Coran and Allura, okay? They’re gonna help you.”
Shiro lifted his gaze to Keith’s. He was smiling. “Okay.”
Keith sighed in relief, his shoulders losing his tension. Finally, after months of arguing, he’d won that battle. He’d get his brother the help he both deserved and needed.
Shiro rose from the bed and paused at the door. “Thanks, Keith. Saving me again...how many times are you gonna lift me up when I’m down?”
Keith smiled fondly. His brother was reckless, but he was still family. “As many times as it takes.”