Wrote this for my friend thesimpletondiaries/Nik as a Christmas present!

Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoy it! I'm always open to feedback if you have any.

"How are you feeling?"

Pohatu looked over at the asker and gave her a tired smile. "Better, thanks, Gali. Still, you know, not a hundred per cent or anything, but I did kinda have an entire cave collapse on my head."

She shook her head and patted his arm. "Just one more day of bed rest and you'll be out looking for the Kanohi Nuva with the rest of us again."

"But it's so boring," he said, and okay maybe he was whining a little, but he hated sitting still for more than a few minutes at a time. His original mask was the Mask of Speed for a reason, dammit. He wanted to move, to run, to feel like he was contributing something to the team.

"I know, I know." Gali's smile was tired around the edges, but it still made her eyes twinkle. "If I could, I'd stay with you the whole day, you know that. But Turaga Nokama wished to speak with me about something, so I can't."

Pohatu slumped and did his best not to pout. "Thanks for coming to see me, anyway." He wasn't sulking, really he wasn't. He could have died when that cavern caved in on him and Kopaka; he was lucky to be alive at all, let alone only needing a couple of days of bed rest before joining the rest of the Toa out in the field again, especially considering his missing elemental powers.

"No problem. And hey, because I can't stay all day today, I brought along someone who could."

A shape appeared in the doorway of Pohatu's house, and he squinted to make out the backlit figure. His eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. "Well hey there," he said, struggling to sit up again. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Don't try to sit up," Kopaka said, striding towards the bed, arms folded. "You're still hurt, and all you'll do is hurt yourself further and need more time away. We can't afford that."

Pohatu rolled his eyes. "Good to see you too, brother."

Gali smiled between them and gave Pohatu one last pat on the arm. "Well, I'd best be going. Have fun, boys. Rest well, Pohatu."

"Bye, Gali," Pohatu said with a wave. "Say hello to Turaga Nokama for me."

With a wave to Pohatu and a nod to Kopaka, Gali was gone. Only the two of them remained, staring awkwardly at each other. At least, Pohatu felt it was awkward. Kopaka probably never felt awkward behind that icy stare of his, just impassive. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying the silence.

"So," Pohatu said, because breaking silences was one thing he did best, "how'd she do it?"

That appeared to startle Kopaka enough to bite back his usual insistence on quiet. "Pardon?"

"Gali." Pohatu gestured to the door their sister had just left through. "How'd she convince you to spend the whole day with me? Everyone knows you hate small talk—or, well, talking in general, I guess. And that's pretty much what this whole day's going to be. So how'd she do it?"

Kopaka regarded him silently for a few long moments before answering. "I have a Mask of Speed."

Pohatu waited, but Kopaka didn't elaborate. "Okay. Great. So do I. So does Lewa, I think. And maybe Tahu."

"Because of this," Kopaka continued, "if I am needed elsewhere I can easily get there. Therefore, I can be here until I am needed. It was the obvious choice."

"Sure." Pohatu folded his arms. "There's still a whole island to protect, and we're down one of our numbers, I get that. But why you, specifically? Not that I don't appreciate it, I just figured you'd get bored eventually."

Kopaka sniffed. "Lewa would be a poor choice for making sure you stayed in bed all day."

Pohatu paused. "Point taken." He loved Lewa, he loved all his fellow Toa dearly. But getting Lewa to sit still was harder than—well, getting Pohatu to sit still. "What about Tahu? He'd grumble about it, but he'd do it, and no offense but he's better with the desert heat than you are."

Kopaka's eyes darkened when Tahu was brought up. "Please. I can withstand this heat just as well as he, and I'll be better equipped to handle the desert chill when the sun sets." He lifted his head. "Besides, Gali did not need to convince me. I volunteered."

That threw Pohatu for a loop. "Why? Not that I'm complaining," he added hastily. "It just seems…unlike you, is all."

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Kopaka asked. He pulled a stone chair to Pohatu's bedside and settled himself on it. "I'm here now."

"Fair enough." Pohatu rolled onto his side, looking up at Kopaka sideways. "Well, if you volunteered, you're not allowed to complain when you get bored."

A wry smile accompanied his answer. "I am in your domain for now, and under your influence. And when have you ever shown any respect for rules?"

Pohatu laughed aloud at that. This might actually be fun.

It was not fun.

Every so often, Pohatu would get another visitor, usually one of the Matoran of his village. Hewkii stopped in twice, but aside from him his visitors took one look at the glowering Toa of Ice, finished their business quickly, and scarpered out the door. "Could you not glare at everyone?" Pohatu complained at one point. "I know the Ko-Matoran don't find you nearly as intimidating as the rest of them do, so you can turn the glower off, I know you can." He knew he could for other reasons, too—he'd seen Kopaka make faces that looked downright soft sometimes. Usually around Gali, or Turaga Nuju's translator. But he decided not to bring that up—annoying Kopaka was still dangerous, with or without elemental powers.

"I don't mean to be glowering. It's just my face."

Pohatu didn't buy that for a second. It wasn't just his face, it was the way he sat with his shoulders up, his arms crossed, one leg folded over the other. It was the aura of sheer disgust that disappeared when they were alone together, but immediately resurfaced when someone else walked in. It was how he wouldn't look at anybody directly, only slightly over their heads while he was addressing them with curt, cold, one-syllable words. Why he was friendlier and more open with Pohatu (albeit only slightly) than the rest of their visitors he hadn't figured out yet. But he would.

"Well, try." He patted Kopaka's face. "For me, won't you?" he joked.

Kopaka grumbled, and his cool face warmed under Pohatu's hand, but when Hafu walked in a few minutes later to deliver a message from Turaga Onewa, at least Kopaka didn't outright glare at him.

Kopaka sat crosslegged on his uncomfortable chair and watched Pohatu sleep. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. His brother needed sleep, after all. There wasn't a lot to do around the hut. Pohatu didn't use it for much besides sleeping and storing his kohlii equipment. Considering Kopaka didn't play kohlii, or any sport, this was useless to him. So all he had to do was stare at the wall or watch Pohatu sleep.

He wondered if Pohatu was going to press him about his comments earlier. About how he'd volunteered to stay the day with him. It would have been easier to do it in shifts, to have Kopaka there part of the day and some of the Po-Matoran another. The Po-Matoran did love their protector, after all, if the steady stream of them in and out of the hut was any indication. Pohatu had that sort of effect on people. Even Kopaka, after a long time of pushing everyone away, found himself drawn to Pohatu.

It had taken Pohatu nearly being buried alive to see that he was alright with it.

Despite how infuriating he could be at times, Kopaka genuinely liked Pohatu. He was a great fighter, a staunch ally, but more than that he was a good friend. But Kopaka was solitary by nature, never interested in social activity for longer than strictly necessary. Pohatu understood that, but also ignored it, always going out of his way to spend time with Kopaka. It was annoying.

Except it wasn't, really. Kopaka was just so out of touch with himself and his feelings that he didn't realise how much he enjoyed Pohatu's company until he thought he'd never have it again. It was a little concerning, actually. He'd always thought he knew where he stood when it came to his emotions. But that wasn't the important thing, not right now. He was still shaken over nearly losing a dear friend. Somehow it had made everything seem more real, the stakes more personal now that he'd seen how easily this could take the people Kopaka cared about away from him. Honestly, as far as he was concerned he'd rather watch Tahu get buried a thousand times over than keep replaying the memory of it happening to Pohatu once.

That was why he'd told Gali he would spend the day with Pohatu. He needed reassurance that he was alright. This had never happened to him before—there had always been that uncertainty of death and failure, and yet he'd never reacted this way when anyone else was hurt. But then again, "someone else" had never been Pohatu.

If Pohatu asked, when he woke up, Kopaka wasn't sure whether he'd want to tell him or not. But that was a bridge to cross later. For now, his brother needed sleep, and Kopaka would watch over him while he got it.