Keith opens his eyes, but can't see. As Keith struggles to a sitting position, he fumbles his way blindly in the dark. He feels dazed and not in his right mind. How far down has he fallen? How long has he been out? His injuries throb painfully. He had been trying to ignore them before, but it's clear that his fall has aggravated them. Something trickles down his neck. He's not sure if it's sweat or blood.
How is he still alive?
Keith looks around him, as if an answer will appear out of thin air. It is then that Keith realizes that he is not alone. A large body lies next to Keith, it's dark shape unmoving in the shadows. A lizard? Keith wants to back away, but finds that he's too tired to move. Keith takes a few minutes to work out what happened. As he thinks, the lizard doesn't so much as twitch. Whatever happened, it's obviously dead.
He remembers faint memories of a struggle, and then falling. He fought a lizard, this lizard, and then they both fell off of a cliff. The lizard must have broken his fall. Keith is still too drained to even process his luck. His brain moves from one thing to the next, almost methodically.
Where is Shiro? He wonders vaguely. Keith realizes that he may have strayed too far from Shiro and the lions. He may not get a rescue anytime soon. The situation is beginning to look more and more bleak and hopeless, so he tries not to think about how inevitable his death is.
His jetpack has been damaged even further by his fall. When he tries to test it, the jetpack sparks and sputters before giving out with a puff of smoke. Well, there went his last means of escape. He brings his fingers to the side of his helmet, but his comms also sputter and die.
Keith clenches his fists. He can't stay here. He has to keep moving. He has to get out of here. Keith looks up. The sides of the cliffs loom over him. He wouldn't be able to scale the sides even on a good day. But if he keeps moving, he might be able to find a way to higher ground.
He picks a direction and starts walking. Because of his blackout, he doesn't know which direction the lions are in. He could be getting farther and farther away from them, and he would never know.
His eyes have started to get used to the dark, but Keith continues to stumble. His injuries ache dully, but he pushes the pain to the back of his mind. Shadows flicker past his eyes. He's seeing things.
What little energy he's managed to muster is beginning to wane. He limps along, using the wall as a guide in the dark. He's never let something like this stop him before. He can't stop now.
He hasn't felt this way in a long time, he realizes. Not since he's joined the team. With the team, he's never had to wallow in his thoughts like this. They've always made at least some effort to include him. Keith has never liked being alone, despite how standoffish he appears. Because if he's alone, he has time to think. And his thoughts have never been good.
He hasn't been truly alone like this in a long, long time.
Helplessness crashes over him. It's what he has felt night after night in his lonely shack in the desert, except this time he has no shack and no goal to remind himself of.
Suddenly, a dark shape appears in front of him. It's in the shape of one of those lizards, but it's covered in shadows and a little blurry. Keith squints his eyes. Has his vision gone fuzzy? Keith stops walking and stares. The lizard stares back unblinkingly. Yellow eyes glint in the dark.
Keith hasn't spent too long observing these things, but he's pretty sure that these creatures are supposed to be bigger. Instead, it looks smaller and younger. It doesn't seem to be traveling with any other lizards. Maybe it's alone, too.
Clutching the wall for support, Keith counts to ten very slowly, waiting for an attack that never comes. He stays still, panting. Then, the lizard opens its mouth and Keith recoils apprehensively.
Why can't you do anything right, Keith? It's mouth is moving, but no words are coming. Keith blinks very slowly, uncomprehending.
Then, Keith closes his eyes and looks away, suddenly feeling very dizzy. He pries open his weary and exhausted eyes with effort, but his vision has gone dim. Keith tries to take another step forward, but he stumbles and the ground rushes up to meet him. He doesn't get back up. He hears a lion roar, and smiles faintly. He closes his eyes.
Keith swims in and out of consciousness. Somehow, he's lying on the smooth, hard floor of the Red Lion. Red had come to get him, and with it, a sense of deja vu fills him and gives him a faint pang of nostalgia. Red always seemed to be getting him out of scrapes. As Red lands next to Black, Keith's vision begins to clear, and he starts to get his energy back. Wearily, he tries to stand up, but ends up falling right back down again. Red comes to a stop, and it's not long before he hears the thudding of footsteps that get closer and closer. Strong arms grab ahold of him and a concerned voice asks him if he's okay.
Shiro, his mind supplies sluggishly. He helps him up, and together, Keith and Shiro make their way out of Red. Shiro helps him over to where he's set up a fire. Keith's eyes never stray from the scratches etched in Shiro's side. Both of them sit down, exhausted, but alive.
"What happened?" Shiro asks, voice still filled with worry.
Keith pauses, trying to remember what exactly had happened, and then says, "I . . . fell. Off of a cliff."
Miraculously, Shiro doesn't press, although Keith suspects that they'll have words about this later. Instead, Shiro says, "You're hurt."
"So are you," Keith responds, near instinctively. What a fine pair they made. Now the both of them are hurt, exhausted, and barely capable of defending themselves. They are sitting ducks.
This is all Keith's fault.
Why can't you do anything right, Keith?
"How are your wounds?" Shiro asks quietly, breaking the silence that has fallen upon them.
"They're fine," Keith says, and doesn't elaborate, mostly because he's too tired to and he doesn't want Shiro to worry. He still feels pretty out of it, and the fall he took seems to have worsened the injuries he'd already sustained. While he hadn't taken on the full brunt of the damage, he knows that he still took on some of it, judging from the even sharper pain in his ribs and continued throbbing of his wrist. Shiro doesn't look like he believes Keith anyway, but still doesn't push. Then, Keith decides to turn it around on Shiro.
"How are your wounds?" Keith says back to him, but all Shiro does is wryly crack a joke back in response. Keith knows it's bad if Shiro has decided to bring out the morbid humor. Keith narrows his eyes, but says nothing. At least Shiro is actually telling him something.
Despite his best attempts, the pain that he's been trying to hide is beginning to resurface. He's been sitting up stiffly this whole time. Surely he can afford to slump down at least a little bit. He's about to do just that, when he is alerted to the sound of Shiro hissing in pain. He whips to face Shiro and makes eye contact with him. He must look panicked, because Shiro moves to reassure him.
"I'm fine," Shiro says all too quickly.
"Hang on," Keith says. "We'll make it out of here." Keith's not sure if he's lying or not. He doesn't want to think about it. He figures that the conversation will end there, and that they'll probably just lapse into silence. But Shiro's eyes meet Keith's once again.
"If I don't make it out of here…" Shiro starts, but Keith interrupts him.
"Don't finish that sentence," Keith closes his eyes and turns away as something cold settles in his stomach. He already knows what Shiro is going to say. But he's wrong about Keith. Keith doesn't have what it takes to lead. The only reason he's here is because of Shiro. Shiro is the only one who has faith in him. It's clear that no one else has faith in him, not even himself.
And if he really wants to be honest with himself, there's another reason why he's refusing to even consider the possibility of himself being leader. He won't let Shiro die. He's already had to deal with Shiro leaving once. It's not going to happen again. Keith would rather make the sacrifice himself than go through that pain again.
And besides, it's not as if Shiro wanted to leave.
Well, when they're rescued, Keith won't have to think about this anymore. Shiro would never abandon him.
Of course, none of this stops the tiny sliver of doubt that lingers in his mind.
The wooden table is littered with empty cans and wrappers, remnants of yesterday's meal. He sweeps the trash aside with his hand and lays a map flat on the table. His eyes search the map until he finds what he's looking for. He sticks a red marker on the spot. It's where he spent most of yesterday evening looking. For what, he couldn't really tell you. It's something he knows, something he can feel.
Or he could just be a lunatic running around aimlessly in the desert. Whichever one worked.
His face sets in determination as he takes a quick swig of water from his canteen. Today, he's not going to eat for a while. He has work to do.
Looking for a source of this energy has given him a new purpose. It keeps him busy, giving him something to do. The alternative would be to waste away in the desert heat, lifeless and dead to the world. So he can't give up. For Shiro's sake. Shiro would never give up, so he can't give up, either. He feels confident today. Maybe something will turn up.
When he returns later that night, he tosses his bag down in frustration. He crashes down onto the couch and puts his head in his hands. Pains of hunger assault his stomach. His mouth is dry. His head pounds. If he sleeps it off, he'll be fine.
Patience yields focus, one thought runs through his head.
But the louder part of his brain wonders, Why can't you do anything right, Keith?
Even after all these years, he still doesn't have an answer.
He pulls the white sheets over him and tries to get comfortable. Something howls outside. Unconsciously, Keith clenches the sheet a little tighter. Even in all of the homes he's been to, he's never felt more alone. Maybe it's because he finally is alone. Just like he has always wanted.
As he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he thinks about what he's going to eat tomorrow.