Disclaimer: I own my writing and this headcanon. That is all.

The night air was crisp on the outskirts of the Garrison. A crescent moon hung limply in the distance, skewered by the occasional drifting cloud. Besides the intermittent howl of a lone coyote echoing through the vast canyon, the only sounds were the soughing winds, tinkering tools, and laboured breaths as the former red paladin worked away on securing the new roof of his shack in preparation for the rainy season, the last major renovation of his small abode.

Since Haggar's defeat three months ago, most of the garrison, while always on stand-by, cleared out to spend time with their families and pick up the pieces of what still remained after the war. A fallen family member, a lost loved one, a damaged house. Everyone had lost something, and everyone had something to rebuild, though they all differed to Keith in one very important regard.

They would never truly understand the price that was paid for their victory.

Quite frankly, it sickened him - that everyone, even the other paladins, could just move on, never to know the irreplaceable cost of each new day with which they were blessed.

Not Keith. He would never let himself forget. He would live each day as a cursed man if that's what it meant.

The familiar chug of a diesel engine approaching pulled him from his thoughts, putting his hammering to a momentary halt, but he did not turn around. There was a hiss as the noisy truck came to a stop in the open space beside Keith's ladder next to his car port, followed by the sound of a slamming door and lofty commando boots as they met with the dry, desert ground.

"Shiro," he said indifferently.

"Hey, buddy." Even from the top of his ladder, Keith could hear the sympathy behind the smirk in his tone. The gap of a few seconds transpired before Shiro remarked,"So, this is why nobody's been able to get a hold of you these past few months."

"Hmph," came the younger man's terse reply, reaching behind for the wrench strapped to his tool belt, then immediately setting to work on tightening the bolts on a metal link that connected the tin roof slates to one of the wooden beams of his new car port. But despite his best efforts to ignore the presence of his unexpected visitor, the last reserves of Keith's focus were beginning to crumble as the palpable worry of the former closed in on him.

"Keith."

He stopped his work, shoulders sagging in irritation. "What do you want me to say, Shiro?" he sighed, still not turning around.

"Well, for starters, an inquiry of general well-being would be nice, seeing as you haven't bothered to respond to any of my messages," he chuckled. "Can you imagine my surprise when I finally got a hold of your mom, who informed me that you weren't traversing through space with her as we were all led to believe, but were just out here, working on your shack?"

Keith made no answer, and simply looked out past the slanted metal of his roof into the distance. Then, after a few thuds and a groan of creaking metal under weight, Shiro finally appeared in his peripherals, no more than a foot below him now that he stood atop the hood of his truck.

"If you won't come down, then we can chat about it here," he said, a touch of frustration betraying his easy smile. Always the patient one.

Jaw clenching, Keith willed himself to look at his old friend, but found he couldn't quite succeed. However, whatever glimpse the older paladin caught of his face seemed to be confirmation enough.

"I'm sorry, Keith," he said sadly, stretching towards him to place a comforting hand on his shoulder as he gripped the wooden beam for support.

He shrank back at that. "Shouldn't Lance be the one you're sorry for?" he scoffed.

Shiro frowned. "Lance has got enough support from people to help him recover - his family, Hunk, Katie… You, on the other hand, need to talk about this."

Keith averted his gaze, the long-neglected fringe of his mullet obscuring his face as he did so. "Why does it matter what I feel?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Shiro's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Because," he said softly, "you loved her."

"Well, love isn't going to bring her back!" Keith snapped, pushing away Shiro's hand and jumping off the ladder, a flurry of dust rising around him as he landed steadily on the barren ground and threw his wrench off to the side. He sharply reached through the small opening of his front window for his jacket that lay rumpled on his bench top and quickly shrugged himself into it before storming over to his dad's old motorbike, its keys already settled in the ignition.

"Keith," groaned Shiro, jumping off his truck after him, though far less agilely. He landed heavily with a grunt. "Keith! Don't do this. Don't run away!" he pleaded, the concern in his tone growing stronger with each syllable. "She wouldn't want that, either!"

By that point, Keith had already mounted the motorbike's weathered leather seat, gloved hands shakily curling around the handle bars as he prepared to take off, but the hateful truth in Shiro's words had convicted him too much to go through with it, and so he could only sit there, seething with anger.

"How do you know anything about what she would want?!" he turned to shout hoarsely at him, numbed by rage to the harshness of his own words. "How do you know that she would even care about what I feel? She only ever cared about-"

Shiro stomped over and took him firmly by the shoulders. "Listen," he commanded in that all-too-determined tone of his, dark eyes serious. "You can't keep doing this. You can't keep thinking that you mean nothing to people." Then, hastily reaching around Keith, he plucked the rusty keys from the ignition and clutched them tightly in his hand. "I, for one, am not gonna allow it."

"-but-"

"She may have been with Lance in her last days," continued Shiro, not about to let him protest, "but I know for a fact that her heart was with you," he said gravely. "You know that, too."

Had they remained minute, Keith would have blamed them on the chilly night air, but Shiro's words had already succeeded in prying open the depths of his heart, and so there was no hiding the tremors that now threatened to overtake him. His voice came out cracked as he tried in vain to hold back a long-held sob.

"I-I… s-she… th-there was nothing I… I c-couldn't…s-save…," unbidden tears began to cloud his vision until they finally leaked down his cheeks. "I w-wanted to be there for her… b-but I… I couldn't lose… ahhh!" his face twisted into a pained grimace as he cried, clumsily sliding off the other side of the motorbike and sinking to his knees until Shiro could only see the top of his head. He let out a series of deep, guttural cries, curling further into himself with each one.

Shiro ran around the motorbike in alarm, his heart breaking more and more with every gut-wrenching cry that left Keith's mouth. He dropped to his knees and pulled his foster brother into a secure hug. "It's okay, buddy. It's okay," he said through tears of his own as he felt his only family member fall apart in his arms.

"I loved her, Shiro!" Keith wailed into his shoulder between sobs, "Oh, God, I loved her so much!" he coughed, choking on his grief.

"I know, Keith. I know," he answered gently.

Keith dug his fingers into the older paladin's shoulder as emotion caused him to lurch forward, his stomach emptier than the darkest desert pit on the driest summer. "I saw her… us… in the Quantum Abyss… we… we were together. We were s-supposed to… b-but I was t-too scared, Shiro!" he inhaled raggedly through another sob. "And-and-and th-then she… she…," he let out another deep cry. "Allura!"

Shiro held him tighter. "I know," he sobbed along with him. "And it might never be okay again."

"No!" Keith shouted. "It will never be okay again!" His voice was raspy now. "She was everything!"

Shiro nodded, a wry laugh escaping his lips in spite of himself. "So was Adam, Keith. And I'll never heal from that. But we'll see them again one day," he whispered. "I know it."

They stayed like that for a long while until Keith's breathing slowed and trembling subsided. Then, mustering all the strength left in agony's wake, he lifted his heavy, dizzy head towards the sliver of moon that shone down on them, its light an inexplicable calm that seemed to draw him far beyond himself.

One day, Allura, he swore to himself before his tired eyes drifted shut. One day, I'll find you again. And when I do…

I'll never let you go.