-Beginning of Season 7-
Chapter 1: Aftermath
The rest of the paladins and their new allies had run off to go catch a yalmor or something. Keith was glad of the excuse to stay near Shiro's pod. There was no one in the universe that could drag him away from Shiro right now anyway.
He waited silently. He pleaded. He made as many deals with as many deities as he could think of. He felt so helpless. If only he could do something to heal Shiro. He would even give his own life.
Allura meditated, conserved her energy. Keith paced the length of Black's cargo hold and asked if he could do anything to help more times than he could count. Krolia had taken a temporary oath of silence or something because she didn't say a word. Allura soothed him, snapped at him, shook her head, sighed and slumped against the lion's bulkhead.
"You're an alchemist. Isn't there I way I could like, give up some of my quintessence for Shiro?" Keith screamed at her after he had tried everything else. Allura cut him a sharp glance.
"Keith that is ridiculous. Stop talking." She said severely. End of discussion. She kept working. Finally she stopped and hung her head.
"There's nothing I can do." She sighed in heavy resignation.
Keith chest cleaved in two. He stared through the hazy blue partition at his…mentor? Brother in arms? Friend? Those words were too insignificant. His everything? He couldn't lose Shiro like this. No way. Not after everything they had been through together.
"Shiro! Please!" Keith slammed his fist on the top of the pod, a sob ripping its way through his throat before he could stop it. "Fight!" he said. "You can't do this to me again!" He barely registered his mother and Allura still hovering nearby. He didn't care.
Keith's heartstrings throbbed, sending out a silent call to the man separated from him under the force field. He leaned over the pod in near agony for a minute and then heard a ragged cough.
Abruptly the pod dropped its protective, healing force field and Keith leaned over, scarcely believe his eyes.
"Shiro?" he stammered.
Shiro moved his lips. Opened his gorgeous eyes. Keith was the first thing he saw.
"Keith?" Shiro asked hesitantly, "I was dreaming."
Keith had no words. His chest had seized up and his breath had stopped reaching his lungs. A smile was plastered on his shocked face.
"Keith, you saved me." Shiro continued in the same weak voice. He had to get those important words out. Had to let Keith know it was him, the real Shiro, not some demented clone.
Keith leaned closer, slid his hands and arms around Shiro's upper body and embraced him gently in the pod.
"We saved each other." He said against Shiro's cool neck.
Just then the rest of the group returned. Keith had already coyly detangled himself from Shiro and was helping the bigger man sit up.
"Shiro's looking better!" Lance rejoiced as the Paladins, Coran and Romelle tromped closer, faces alight. He launched into what he thought was a fantastic and condensed explanation of what wild adventure the group had just been on, but which sounded so dumb and bizarre Keith couldn't help tuning out with a disgusted look on his face. He noticed out of the corner of his left eye that Shiro was feeling the same way.
But at least he was alive.
"It's good to be back." Shiro chuckled with as much bravado as he could muster as soon as Lance's story was over. The team agreed wholeheartedly.
Shiro leaned into Keith with his amputated right shoulder, in the guise of pressing himself up on one remaining, trembling arm into a fully upright position. But as he did he whispered "We need to talk later."
The hair on Keith's neck stood upright as Shiro's words ghosted against him but he stared straight ahead and only gave the most subtle of nods back.
We certainly do.
Shiro was so exhausted. It felt great to be back in his body—a body?—since being trapped in the shared consciousness of the Black Lion for so long. He wanted to sleep for a few deca-phoebs, but at the same time he also wanted to relish this rebirth. Live every dobosh to its fullest.
His mind swam with mixed flashbacks. Experiences from his time in the Black Lion and some that this clone brain had retained. He didn't know what was real anymore. Some of his memories might be his, some commands from a possessed clone. He stirred, every muscle in his body aching.
"Before you ask, no, I'm not giving you another Galra arm for Christmas." A deep voice floated over.
Shiro dragged his heavy eyelids open and inhaled, trying to get a grip on his emotions. A tear leaked out of the corner of his left eye.
Dizzily, Shiro registered Keith's form as the later peeled himself off of the narrow door to the Black Lion's lone sleeping quarters, arms crossed. He approached the bunk Shiro was lying prostrate on. The cot bounced a little as Keith sad on the edge, ducking his head due to the low ceiling and cramped quarters meant only for one Black Paladin.
Shiro blinked, trying to clear his vision so that he could see Keith better. Why was it so blurry?
"Don't cry." Keith looked down at him and reached out a tentative hand to run the pad of his thumb along Shiro's angular cheekbones, wiping away the trickling moisture. "It's ok. I'm here."
Shiro opened his lips to say something—anything but his throat was so tight he couldn't speak. He settled for shaking his head. His chest heaved up and down, holding in sobs. He couldn't—shouldn't be crying in front of Keith! Damn it!
Instead of frowning, dishing out a crude comment, or giving all sorts of typical Keith reactions, Keith leaned closer, filling Shiro's vision entirely. His warm lips pressed a butterfly soft kiss against Shiro's temple.
Why would Keith do that? Shiro cried harder inside, still choked up, trying to stem the flow of his own tears. Why was he being so weak?
And then his battered body was being half rolled, half pushed against the far metal wall as Keith scooted all of Shiro aside to make room for himself to lay down on the edge of the cot too, facing him. His thick brown hair settled into the indentation in the pillow Shiro's head had just been occupying.
"Sorry." Keith breathed, his face very close. His body stretched out rigid as a board. "Maybe you of all people have the right to cry. Cry all you want. It's just me."
Shiro stared, unblinking into the depths of Keith's blue-gray eyes. He didn't know what to say. A witty comment or joke would effectively diffuse the situation, but Shiro didn't have the heart to think of one right now. He wanted to be real. He wanted this moment to be real.
"Are you real?" he found himself asking. His voice sounded thick. Stars, he hoped Keith was real. It would be too large a disappointment if he wasn't—
"Of course I'm real." Keith said. His eyes darted between Shiro's pained gray ones, reading his many tumultuous thoughts. "I'm real. This is not a dream."
"How will I know?" Shiro rasped, beginning to shiver. He thought of reaching for a blanket, then realized he was lying on his left side, pinning his only arm and his right arm wasn't there to reach for anything.
"We could make up a code word or something. Hey, that's not a half bad idea. Something no witch could duplicate…" Keith began in earnest, then realized he must have been babbling like a fool. He shut himself up and reached over to slide his fingers into Shiro's bangs, stroking his scalp and forehead slowly.
Shiro moaned and tilted his head, craving the contact. He didn't care if he looked like a pathetic animal right now.
Keith's mind swam with questions he was dying to blurt out. They had been separated for so long. Too long. He knew Shiro was not okay, so he didn't even bother asking. That was a stupid question. What did he really want to ask?
"No code words. Not right now." Shiro mumbled. "Please…" his voice trailed off. He stared at Keith like a hungry man.
"Please what?" Keith's dark eyebrows rose. Concern leaped into his eyes. "Do you want something? A drink? Food? I can get it."
Pink bloomed across Shiro's face and he seemed to retreat into himself again, embarrassed.
"What?" Keith demanded. "Just say what you want, Shiro." He said that last part in a husky whisper. Shiro hesitated. Then squeezed his eyes shut.
"Hold me." Shiro ground out. "Even for a little—"
He braced himself, certain that Keith would bolt out the door, but instead Keith surged forward and pressed his warm body against Shiro's stiff, cold one. He wrapped his top arm around Shiro's waist and slipped his right arm between the gap where Shiro's neck met the pillow, bending his elbow to hold Shiro's head even closer to his own rapidly beating heart.
Shiro moaned low in his throat again at the contact, and curled into him, their legs twining. His entire body was trembling violently.
"You cold?" Keith asked softly, his lips against Shiro's soft white hair.
Shiro shook his head, but Keith still untangled his leg briefly to kick up the black blanket balled up at the foot of the cot. He straightened it and pulled it over the top of them, tucking the edges under Shiro's torso and legs. Once that was done, he wrapped his arms around Shiro again and held him tightly.
He knew the bigger man was crying silently again. He didn't mind. It was probably good for him. He'd hold him for as long as he needed him. He didn't know how much time passed.
Shiro clung to him unabashedly, touch starved. It had been a deca-phoeb since he had contact with another human. The real Shiro. Not some crazed witch-controlled clone. His body tremors slowly stilled and then stopped as he finally relaxed. He felt so violated and broken apart in body, mind and spirit but Keith was the glue that was holding him together.
"The others think I'm watching over you as you sleep, in case you die on us again." Keith said quietly. The fingers of his left hand began to run along Shiro's broad back in short strokes.
"Mmm. You're doing a good job." Shiro snorted. He bent his head against Keith's black shirt. "Keep doing it."
"You know, I don't really care what others think." Keith went on slowly.
"You never did." Shiro agreed, his voice muffled.
"Would you care?" Keith asked, jumping a bit as Shiro's chin jabbed his sternum. This his nose poked into his pectorals. Keith looked down between them, staring at the top of Shiro's head. More incoherent muttering. Shiro was outright nuzzling him! It kind of tickled.
"Shiro," Keith felt a wave of warmth bloom from the tip of his toes to the top of his head as Shiro continued to snuggle against him. As if he couldn't get close enough. "Are you even listening?"
"Nuh uh."
Keith was surprised when his lips split into a smile. His mind spun, trying to process a barrage of crazy feelings. Was this awkward? Was it not?
"Would you care if someone walked into this bunk room right now?" Keith exhaled, dying to know. Shiro stilled, but only for a second. Then he pulled himself higher on the pillow with his human arm to be at Keith's eye level.
"I used to think so." Shiro swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his strong, thick neck. "Now, not so sure."
Keith stared back at him for so long his eyes burned and he had to blink rapidly.
"I feel weird." Shiro offered, glancing away and giving Keith a reason to start breathing again. "This body is mine, but not. This mind is mine, but also holds memories a clone had."
Keith furrowed his brows at that last remark. What a mess. His poor Shiro—
"It's ok." Was all he could think to say.
"I'll figure it out." Shiro sighed gustily, looking weary again. "The thing is, I remember fragments."
"Like what?" Keith asked, a little too guiltily. Why? Why did he react like that?
"Well I can picture the fight this…creation of Haggar's had with you." Shiro's gaze slid back up to capture Keith's, his expression full of immense sadness. "And for that I'm—"
"Don't." Keith snapped, suddenly irritated. "Don't you dare be sorry for any of it."
A/N. There's so many great Sheith fics out there, I'm humbled to add mine to the mix. If there are any fans left still watching the show, and wanting more, please let me know what you think!