"Matt," Shiro murmured, opening his eyes to look at Matt, "You've seen me fight. Can you remember what I did? You need to be able to defend yourself now that I-I can't protect you anymore."

"Sure, Shiro," Matt agreed, moving into Shiro's field of vision, "But you'll be able to fight again. You're fighting through the injury already."

Shiro glanced lethargically at his bandaged, missing arm and shook his head.

"I can't fight. Not with one arm." Shiro's voice dropped to a whisper, "You don't need me anymore."

Suddenly, as if he realized how far he had let his guard down, he tried to muster a smile for Matt. It failed miserably.

Matt watched his friend, feeling a crushing sadness in his chest. He could see it in Shiro's eyes- he was giving up. He didn't just want to protect Matt, he needed to. It was what kept him going. But now that he had lost his arm in his last fight with a Galra monster, Shiro didn't think he was needed anymore...

Matt shuddered at the memory. Seeing the rock being thrown across the arena, hearing Shiro's cry of pain. He had come out victorious- but barely. His hand had been crushed against the arena wall and they had both agreed it couldn't be saved. It needed to be removed.

It had been Matt who dd it. He wouldn't trust the Galra to touch his friend, and they seemed uninterested in a wounded slave. He could still hear Shiro's-

Matt opened his eyes and forced the memory away. That wasn't helping. Shiro was watching him, tired concern on his face. The sweat on his forehead was the last sign of the fever that had resulted from the makeshift amputation, and Matt was relieved that it wasn't worse. He didn't have the supplies or medical training to deal with anything worse. Matt took a deep breath. It could have been worse.

Seeing Matt recover, Shiro sighed and looked back at his arm. Something in Matt hardened, and he felt determination flare up in him as he stood to his feet.

"Get up." Matt said, a little harsher than he had expected. Shiro looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"You heard me, get up!"

Confused, Shiro winced as he sat up and stood shakily to his feet. Matt wanted so much to help him, but stayed where he was.

"Now what?" Shiro wavered a little on his feet, not quite over the fever. Matt put up his hands defensively.

"Try to block my punch."

"Matt..." Shiro gave his friend a pleading look, and Matt faltered for a moment. It was normal to be upset by an injury like Shiro's, but here they couldn't afford time to heal. With a yell, he swung his left fist at Shiro.

At the last moment, Shiro brought up his hand and knocked his fist out of the way. Extremely clumsy, but it was something.

"Again." Matt commanded, swinging again and again. Eventually, Shiro gained confidence, gradually shifting his reliance from his missing right arm to his left. Matt threw punches faster; never both fists at the same time, but Shiro was doing remarkably well. Finally, the exertion was too much for him, and Shiro collapsed onto one knee. Matt was there instantly, steadying him.

"That's enough for now." he murmured, breathing hard himself. Matt had never been destined to fight, and it was ruefully obvious to him now. "You see? You might not be able to fight like you used to, but you're not useless. You just have to learn to work with one arm."

Shiro lifted his head to look Matt in the eye, and while there was exhaustion and pain in his expression, there was something else, too. Hope.

"I think you might be right." he breathed, giving a genuine smile. Matt smiled back.

"You kidding? Of course I'm right!" Matt cocked his head playfully at his friend, then lowered his voice, "Rest now, and you can train again tomorrow." he lowered his friend slowly to the ground. Almost instantly, Shiro was asleep, but this time, there was a soft smile on his face.

Matt leaned his head back against the cool wall of the cell and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Shiro would recover, if he truly wanted to. Now, Matt could see Shiro had been given a reason again.

The cell door clicked and started to slide open. Both Matt and Shiro woke abruptly and watched the door fearfully. They glanced at each other, and seeing the other's fear, both made an effort to master their expressions to something exhibiting calm and defiance. Two guards stepped in and hauled Shiro roughly to his feet. Shiro abandoned all pretense of bravery as terror of the unknown rushed through him.

"No, where are you taking him?" Matt cried. The first guard turned an expressionless mask towards him.

"He has shown that he is strong. He will be rewarded for his resilience." the guard intoned.

Rewarded?! Matt thought wildly. What could that mean? Punishment? Another fight? Shiro was strong, but he wasn't ready for another fight yet. The second guard, seeing that Shiro was under control, turned to Matt and started towards him.

"You, prisoner 465, you give hope. Hope is dangerous, unless it is used wisely. Hagar has a purpose for you too."

"Wha- Me? I don't- what are you talking about? Shiro!"

Matt scrambled back into the corner or the cell, while straining to see his friend. What would happen to them? Would Shiro be alright? Would they ever see each other again? He heard Shiro call through the cell doorway.

"Matt! I'm alright. Stay calm, you'll make it worse."

It sounded so much like the old Shiro that Matt relaxed instantly, only to feel a needleprick in his arm. No, not that! Matt knew what followed when you felt a needle. He gave a last attempt to escape before swirling darkness took him and he sank to the floor.

Matt never saw Shiro on that ship again.

Hooray! My first story has been published at last! Thank you for taking the time to read this, and reviews are greatly appreciated! :D