Chapter Text
Waking feels like swimming through mud. Everything is heavy and sticky and doing its best to keep him down, but he digs his mental claws in and drags himself to the surface one agonizing inch at a time. Awareness of his surroundings comes gradually; first the weight of his body, then the feeling of each breath, the fabric he's laying on, the deep hum of machinery both close by and distant. There's a weight on his right arm, the measured inhales and exhales of sleep brushing against his skin. It might take hours, but eventually he remembers he has eyes and focuses on cracking one open. He takes in the unfamiliar room with its alien, flat-paneled walls and scrolling data screens.
How did he get here? Where even is here?
The creak of someone standing from a chair draws his gaze sluggishly to his left, where he finds a strange girl he's never seen before. She's maybe Simon’s age, with curly white blonde hair and large blue eyes, that widen when they meet his.
“Mr. Kamina! You’re awake!” Despite her obvious excitement, she keeps her voice to barely above a whisper. “I’ll go get Miss Kiyoh!” Before he has a chance to respond, she scampers out of the room and vanishes into the hallway.
With no further distractions, his gaze drifts to his right. A head of fine black hair rests against his arm, the gentle rise and fall of a familiar blue jacket marks each even breath. With a monumental effort, Kamina forces his uncooperative body to lift his hand and place it on Simon’s head. Then, he falls back into darkness.
–
“-amina? Kamina, can you hear me?”
“Are you sure he woke up?”
“The readings indicate normal sleep, I think he's just exhausted.”
“C’mon, bro. Open your eyes, okay?”
Dragging himself out of the mud is easier this time, but only slightly. Opening his eyes feels like trying to manually shove open Gurren’s cockpit, but eventually he manages enough to see Simon leaning over him. He mouths his little bro’s name, but can't force any sound out.
“Bro!”
Simon’s smile is wet and a little wobbly, and undercut by the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the hints of hollowness in cheeks that should be round and full with youth. It's still the best smile Kamina's ever seen. Simon has a vicegrip on his hand, and Kamina uses the last of his strength to squeeze back reassuringly. Then, nothingness.
—
The third time Kamina wakes is much more familiar. He still doesn't know where he is or what happened, but he would know the feeling of Simon in his arms anywhere. His little bro is tucked tight against his right side, with Kamina's arm draped loosely over him. With his face buried in Kamina's shoulder, Simon's soft hitched sobs are muffled amongst the bandages smothering Kamina's entire chest. Kamina's heart aches at the sound. He hates to hear his little bro cry, all the worse knowing he's the cause.
Every movement is slow and draining, like trying to arm wrestle Lagann with only his bare hands, but no effort is too great to stop him from comforting his little bro. Kamina turns his head to press his cheek to Simon's hair, and gently rubs his thumb against Simon's back. Simon's sobs cut off as he jolts, “Bro?”
“‘M here.” It comes out as a weak rasp thanks to the dryness of his throat, but it's loud enough for Simon to hear.
Simon picks his face up from Kamina's shoulder, prompting Kamina to finally peel open his eyes. Simon's cheeks are blotchy and shiny and his eyes are wet when they meet Kamina's. There's a desperate sort of panic in his gaze as it locks onto Kamina's face. Kamina recognizes it all too well from the nights spent holding Simon through nightmares of earthquakes and cave-ins. Simon would wake with a start, his dreams so vivid he was convinced Kamina had died just like his parents. Just like those nights, Kamina knows what to do.
His right arm trembles with exhaustion as he slides up Simon's spine to the back of his head and gently guides Simon back down. Simon follows obediently, already knowing to turn his head to the side and let Kamina press his ear to Kamina's chest. It's the best proof Kamina can provide, his steady heartbeat irrefutable evidence that he still lives.
Before they came to the surface, Simon spent most of his days digging tunnels. Pressed in on all sides and only able to see to the tip of his hand drill, Simon had developed a keen instinct for touch and sound. He knew the rocks by feel, by the resistance they gave his drill. He knew tunnel stability by the near imperceptible hiss of soil sliding against itself overhead. After waking from a nightmare, Simon often trusted his ears over his eyes.
Over minutes measured in heartbeats, Kamina feels the draining away of the stress and tension Simon's surely been carrying for far too long. Kamina's arm burns with the effort, but he focuses on slowly brushing his fingers through Simon's hair. Another small bit of tactile sensation meant to reassure. “Better?”
Simon releases a shaky breath, relaxing even further. “Yeah.” Then, softer, “Thanks, bro.”
“Anytime.”
One day, Simon won't need him anymore. Kamina anticipates that day with equal parts excitement and dread. Simon will stand on his own two feet and believe fully in himself, and it will be the greatest day of Kamina's life. When that time comes, Simon won't need to look to Kamina for confidence, or to curl up in his arms after a nightmare. He’ll leave Kamina far behind as he carves his own path to the heavens. Kamina's okay with that. Really, he is. He's known it was coming from the beginning, and the last thing he wants is to hold Simon back. Even if that means no longer getting to hold him.
But that day hasn't come yet, and until it does Kamina will gladly hold Simon through every nightmare and let him find comfort in the beat of Kamina's heart. He’ll stroke Simon's hair and reassure him however he can and savor every fleeting moment he has left.
Simon runs a thumb over the thick bandages covering Kamina's chest, rousing Kamina from his musings. “Sorry. You're the injured one and here I am making you comfort me.”
Kamina lightly taps the back of Simon's head in rebuke. “Big brother privileges.”
The deep sigh Simon dramatically heaves is completely unwarranted. “One of these days you'll have to stop using that as an excuse for everything.”
“Mmm. Maybe. Not today.” Or possibly ever. Simon's always worried about silly things like that, when Kamina gives comfort but won't receive it, if Kamina got enough food when they have to share, why Kamina always, always, stands between Simon and Chief’s anger. But that's what a big brother does. He gives comfort and asks for none in return, he makes sure his charge has enough to eat even if it means going without himself, and he intercepts every unfair strike because he knows he can take them. That's what it means to be worthy of the name Aniki.
Speaking of big brotherly duties. . .
“Who's the girl?”
“Huh?!”
Well, that answers that. Kamina manfully holds back his laughter at Simon's startled squeak, but can't quite keep the smirk off his face. Good thing Simon still has his face pressed to Kamina's chest. Kamina lightly ruffles the back of Simon's hair to prompt a more thorough response.
“Y-You mean Nia? She was here the first time you woke up.”
Kamina hums in agreement. That Simon had felt safe enough to sleep and leave her to watch over both of them speaks volumes to his trust in her. This Nia must be one special lady.
“I found her not long after the battle. She was there for me when- when we weren't sure if you’d make it or not. I was so lost without you, but she helped me keep going.”
Something anxious twinges in Kamina's gut. Weren't sure if he would make it? Just how injured is he? And how long had he been asleep? He hasn't yet gone poking around the last memory before waking up here, and he's no longer sure he wants to. But he buries all of that to worry about later. Right now he only cares that, however bad things were, Simon had someone by his side.
“She's pretty great, I know you’ll love her. Oh! I’ll go get her!”
“Wait-”
Simon gets his hands under him and begins to push himself up, but Kamina isn't quite ready to let him go. It's instinctive to reach for him with both arms. It's a mistake.
A blinding burst of pain explodes from the left side of his chest. It whites out his vision as an inferno sweeps across his body. “Bro!” Simon is panicked, but Kamina can barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. His right hand grips tight in Simon's jacket as he tries to breathe through it, only to find even that hurts if he inhales too deeply. Every muscle in his body pulls taut against the pain, only worsening it further.
Distantly, he feels Simon scramble off the bed. Frantic footsteps. Simon screaming for help. A new voice, feminine and unfamiliar. He can't make out her words through the roaring in his ears, but her tone is calm and soothing. If she's talking to him or Simon, he can't tell. Eventually or immediately, a chill spreads up his left arm from his elbow. The agony begins to recede, leaving his muscles utterly limp. His right hand, still locked tight in Simon's now empty jacket, drops to the bed bonelessly.
Finally free of the pain, Kamina tries to open his eyes again. Simon. Simon needs him. But it's hopeless. Whatever little energy he had scraped together has been thoroughly spent. He can't even reach out for his brother before the darkness takes him once more.