Work Text:
He'd woken up crying her name again. Amuro said nothing, but his bleary, hooded eyes tried to focus on him.
"Did I wake you?"
"Uh-uh," Amuro murmured, moving just a little to rest his head on Kai's chest. Kai petted his head and started to play with the boy's red wisps of hair wouldn't have been surprised if the other had been awake for some time, if he had slept at all.
He watched Amuro's pale blue eyes scan the room, not settling, not meeting Kai's gaze. Though sometimes he would cling tighter around Kai's body, usually accompanied by small shudders.
"Hey, hey…” Kai said gently. “You need me to take you to the infirmary?"
Amuro made a quiet groan as he nestled into Kai's chest.
"...Don't want to move."
Fine with him. Kai didn't feel like leaving either. He'd found a comfortable rhythm in stroking the hair just behind Amuro's ear, feeling the rise and fall of it in time with both their breathing. Though Amuro's was stilted, restless. Too often now Kai was waking to find him tense and feverish. He couldn't know what was going through Amuro's head, but it hadn't relented even since they'd entered neutral territory, with no risk of needing to jump back in the mobile suits.
With a gesture that was trying to be casual, Kai brushed the hair away from Amuro's forehead, pressed his lips to it, and pulled away quickly. It was sheepish and immature. Amuro returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze around Kai's body. Moments like these were the closest he felt to the real Amuro. Immediately he cursed himself for finding fondness at a time when Amuro really was hurting. But as much as he tried to stay stoic as the protector of the White Base, in his arms right now was just a boy who had lost his home and his family, no different to the rest of the lost souls drifting between worlds.
And he was happy, that of all people Amuro would come to him. A voice of reason told him it was because unlike everyone else breathing down Amuro's neck, Kai didn't have any expectations worth upholding. But so what? Amuro could be cute when he wasn't being so uptight. The moments they snatched together after battles had turned into something teenage and exploratory. Kai's face burned a little at the memory.
He glanced back at the other pilot, wondering if he noticed the nervous beating of his heart Amuro stared blankly back at him, the dark circles around his eyes looking hideous.
"Offer's still on, y'know," he whispered. "It'll calm your nerves some. You need your shut-eye more than any of us."
Silence. Air filters whirred as the expanse of space rolled outside the porthole window. Kai couldn't see Amuro's face, and wasn't really expecting a response until at last he murmured, "They'll discipline you if they find out you have that stuff."
"I brought it aboard before we consigned ourselves. How was I to know they'd turn this place into a barracks?
"Hmm..." Amuro shuffled again, as if he couldn't get comfortable. Kai turned onto his side and put his arms around the other’s shoulders. He seemed to relax, a little.
Kai complained to himself, "should have brought some more on board when we touched down in Belfast. They'll be tighter on it now."
"You're good at smuggling things on board, Kai."
He glanced down at Amuro, a knot growing in his throat, but there seemed nothing pointed about the remark Amuro had mumbled against his chest. Too late, Kai forced a laugh, more for his own benefit than Amuro's. It sounded wavery and self-conscious.
Kai felt sick. He found his unsteady hand fisting tighter in Amuro's hair. The other gave a tired groan and nestled closer in his arms, seeming unaware of the change that had come over Kai.
It was hard now to remember that, no, Kai hadn't even been the one to bring the girl on the ship in the first place.
But how would Amuro know that? From what he'd seen it would be easy to assume Kai had brought her along on a whim. He shouldn't have covered for her. He shouldn't even have come back to the base, that way she'd never have been on the Gunperry.
The events played through his head like they always did, spiralling back through everything he should have done, what he could have said that would have made things different. And always it ended with the long flight over the ocean to the White Base, staring at the calm blue beneath the and wondering whether she'd already sunk beneath the waves, or if he'd be landing with a corpse in his cargo hatch.
He didn't notice his tremors until he felt Amuro's arms tightening around him.
"You too, huh?"
Kai was pulled back to the moment. He automatically returned the embrace.
No, it's my fault. I shouldn't be--
"It's different."
"Really."
Amuro sounded quietly disinterested, and his voice more steady than before. A soft hand laces with Kai's. The innocence of the gesture made something deep in his chest twist uncomfortably.
"I mean you-- Amuro, you'd never..."
He should push away. Amuro couldn't know what he'd done. If he really knew, he wouldn't give Kai this kind of pity.
That shame wasn't enough to stop him leaning in. Amuro's temperature ran warm. The steady rhythm of another living, beating heart against his chest took Kai away from the lonely journey over the waves. Though he could still feel the bile rising in his throat.
He swallowed. "Amuro, you always fly alone."
The boy's star-shaped eyes looked pale and far off.
"Yeah?"
"I hate going alone," Kai laughed weakly. "I prefer a two-man mission."
"The Gundam's a close quarters unit. It doesn't make sense to have anything else at close range, plus your Cannon-- Kai?"
A sob overtook him. Kai turned his face into the pillow to preserve even a little bit of dignity.
Amuro’s moment of silent shock was agonizing. Compared to what he endured without complaint, Kai’s outburst must seem like a childish tantrum.
"This is why... we have to get to them first." Amuro's voice was also trembling with quiet rage. "We never know who is going to... We have to end this all as soon as possible."
Kai could tell Ryuu's name was on the tip of his tongue. As the ship revolved, a chink of sunlight cut through the small window, turning the boy's red hair golden. His eyes remained in shadow, looking grave.
There was no point talking about it, they'd never know who was next, not until the war on Zeon was over. Kai had always hated going out into the black expanse, didn't Amuro feel how small they all were against it? Zeon or no, the sky would always claim its next victim. The white comet that weaved between the stars couldn't burn so bright forever.
He'd laced his fingers with Amuro's and was grinning despite himself. That was it, wasn't it? Amuro never gave himself a chance to take anyone down with him, did he himself know it was a kind of damage control? Amuro's hands were hesitant to grip back. Kai knew this was getting ridiculous. What made Kai think he could offer him any peace of mind at all? He couldn't begin to understand a resolve like Amuro's, like Miharu's.
“What’s that face for? You’re creeping me out.”
He knew he looked like a mess at the moment.
“As soon as possible, huh?”
The new day had found Amuro his resolve. Someday he’d burn out, and he was determined to take no one but the Zeons with him. Kai was a fool to think he could hold on to him, all he could do was hope the war ended before that could happen.
Kai pressed his face to the warm brown hair that reminded him of someone else. In the end it was purely for selfish reasons that Kai could move forward. Amuro might have been lost to him already, but Kai knew he couldn’t stand back and watch any more. Any thought of running just brought him back to that long and lonely flight over blue water.