This is not precisely a request, but when Sally's Song came up in my Sheith Music Shuffle, my friend M (who adores NBC) made big pleading eyes at me and asked me please to write a fusion, even if it was only one scene.
So I did. (I'm a cool, sharp Slytherin, but M is my fluffy Hufflepuff and I am v. bad at telling her no when she makes with the pleases.)
Shiro winced as he slid down the wall, now far enough away from the lab that he was . . . probably safe. His legs folded sideways under him, and he frowned at his wrist.
The machinery beneath his skin was showing, and. . . He poked the leaves that filled his body back into place carefully around the gears and wires, wincing as he pushed his hand back into place and something cracked painfully inside, as none of his other limbs ever did.
Only the one that had been broken, shredded away, and reformed stronger, as he had never asked for it to be. He shuddered and plucked at the thick violet threads holding his wrist together, tightening them. It didn't quite do the trick, so he reached up and pulled his emergency needle from its hiding place in his forelock, smiling as he neatly stitched up the gap and pulled it snug, tying it off smoothly between teeth and left hand.
He rubbed his thumb over the join, then stashed the needle away again as he flexed his right hand, watching the weird metallic shimmer of the silvery-black 'skin' that sat beneath his own on that arm, part of the machinery inside.
He froze as he heard someone - surely it wasn't the doctor coming to find him? - and then nearly melted against the wall behind him as he heard singing. It was so . . . sad. It was sorrowful like what Shiro felt sometimes, but that no one had ever understood. . .
He scrambled up onto his knees and peeked over the rough wall, eyes immediately darting to the thin shadow moving up the hill in the centre of the graveyard. It was Keith, resplendent as always in his blood-red and black suit - what there was of it, as it hung in tatters around his bare ribs and left arm, barely clinging around his neck to hold up the other side.
He turned, and Shiro ducked a little lower, self-consciously reaching up to cover his bright white forelock as Keith's face turned towards him. Half bare bone, and half pale skin, with dark hair curling around his jaw and nearly into his one, moon-grey eye.
Shiro swallowed nervously as Keith appeared to be looking around - looking for something, for someone? Had he been heard? He crept along the wall, barely daring to peek above it from time to time, watching Keith, fascinated. No, not-
Not like everyone seemed to be fascinated with him - how could one not be, he was. . .
No, just . . . drawn to him. To the lonely song he sung that Shiro had never heard from anyone, nothing like. . .
"There you are, Red." Keith said, and Shiro eeped and ducked behind the wall fully, pressing his back to it. He scrambled along on his side of the wall to the nearby doorway and peeked through it, watching as Keith knelt down to the huge, blood-red cat - pelt a little brighter than his suit - that had padded out of the fog to meet him.
He stroked the cat's head affectionately, and Shiro shivered as the baleful gold eyes narrowed in pleasure. "That's my girl. Good kitty." Keith praised as Red pushed her chin into his hand, and let Keith's bony fingers scratch behind one of her rounded ears.
"No one understands, Red." Keith said softly, his voice carried easily on the wind to Shiro's ears. "They all. . ." he trailed off, and Shiro covered his mouth with one hand, eyes wide. Hearing the words in his heart from someone else's lips. And Keith's.
Red growled, sounding low and displeased, and Shiro jumped, but Keith only laughed - he might have been smiling; his right, more expressive side was still turned away from Shiro - and stroked her again, blood from her fur smearing the white of his bones, as he rose.
"I know. At least I'll always have you." Keith said, but even as he smiled down at Red, and she pressed close to him with clear affection, he sounded. . .
Heartsick.
Shiro yearned towards Keith, actually beginning to move forwards, fingers curling around the edge of the gateway. Red trotted along at Keith's side as he began walking again, long strides carrying him among the grave markers.
Shiro inched along on his knees, watching as Red sat, tilting her head back - the tufted end of her tail flicked - and letting out a loud cry. Her ears tilted backwards, and she turned and lunged away as Keith paused, reaching out to her.
He stopped, watching her, and Shiro leaned up a little more, trying to see what she was doing and then- Distracted by the expression on Keith's face, now he could see the entirety of Keith's face.
He looked sad, head half-bowed and his bone hand tucked into his pocket.
Shiro's heart ached, and he pressed one hand to his chest, frowning. Red bounded back to Keith's side, giving her demanding cry again but this time muffled - she had . . . she had a sizeable hunk of what looked like antler in her mouth.
Keith laughed, his face beautiful with it, but still bearing a sorrowful cast. He crouched and took the branching antler from her, turning it over in his hands. "Do you want to play, girl?" he asked, rubbing the top of her head.
He straightened, dropping the antler to one side. "All right." He brought his right hand up and grasped one of his lower ribs - not a bottom floating rib, but one of the bigger, more solid ones above them. Shiro flinched as he levered it out of his chest - breaking it? - and waved it over Red, grinning.
He threw it, the curved bone spinning through the air gracefully. Red chased after it, weaving among the grave markers - and in some places simply leaping over them entirely with powerful bounds.
Keith walked on, and only paused when Red brought the rib bone back to him, sending it spinning off wildly once more - this time it arced towards the empty gateway where Shiro was kneeling, and he jerked back, tumbling a little and drawing his legs up in front of himself as Red ran towards him.
Red sniffed around, huge paws padding delicately between rocks and spiky plants, and she came a little closer towards Shiro's hiding place. Then she stopped, turning, and nosed through a tall clump of grass and mushrooms, coming out of it with the gleaming white bone clasped between her jaws.
She took it back to Keith with no sign of having noticed Shiro, and he slowly moved forwards until he could see Keith again. Red left his side before he could throw his rib again, and Keith watched her, toying with the bone and then sliding it back into place in his chest. Not truly broken, then, Shiro thought, relieved. Keith took up a perch on one of the nearby stone markers as Red roamed away.
Shiro's eyes went wide as Red returned to Keith's side this time with a much . . . bigger bone in her jaws, and he wondered where it had come from.
Keith eyed her, but accepted one end of the bone when she pressed it against his thigh. Red hung onto the other end of it, wrestling against Keith's grip for a minute and making him smile at her before giving it over and stroking her head.
When he wouldn't take it again, she heaved a sigh and dropped it at the base of the stone Keith had taken as his seat. A few minutes later, Keith could almost have been part of the graveyard himself, sitting solemnly atop the stone with one foot propped in front of him and looking up at the moon with its wicked smile.
Red curled herself at the base of the stone, tufted tail lashing a few times before she really went still, her great head almost resting against Keith's dangling shin.
Shiro swallowed thickly, unable to drag himself away or even look away, his own eyes fixed on Keith's face. The Pumpkin King looked so sorrowful Shiro ached.
Rather than go with exacts, I altered the characters a little, obviously.
Shiro was built (or rebuilt) much like Sally but with something similar to the Galra arm he never wanted and feels somewhat conflicted about.
Keith was inspired by the look Yasu (my favourite J-Rocker) gave to his Grim Reaper Halloween costume; 'human' on one side and skeleton on the other.
Red was a lion who fought and killed those attempting to skin her alive, and wears their deaths as well as hers in her fur. Their blood obviously never quite dries, and stays forever red. (She only has a few raw lines 'scarred' through her pelt, she's fortunately not skinless.)