Shiro side-stepped an incoming blow and followed up with one his own with the Galra hand. The training bot staggered back, providing another opening. The bot was on a low setting tonight. He wasn't really looking to train, just work out until he felt he could go to bed. A little exhaustion went a long ways to reducing nightmares, and helping him sleep through the night. Exercise wasn't a perfect countermeasure, but it was better than nothing. Especially since, his favorite nightmare retardant now slept safely away from him in another room.

Speaking of Keith, the Red Paladin's voice abruptly gave a command for the simulation to end. Shiro turned around in surprise. He hadn't seen the door open, but Keith must have just entered. His situational awareness was far too attuned to not have noticed him if he'd been there for any significant amount of time.

Keith was standing in the door. Jaw set, fist clenched, expression grim, he seemed to be gathering himself for something. Shiro felt hopelessly unprepared. He was sweaty and tired, and didn't know why Keith was here. What had he done wrong? If this was about anyone else, Keith would have spit it out already. Only Shiro ever caused this reaction, "Is everything okay?", Shiro tentatively broke the building silence. He couldn't make amends if he didn't know where he'd transgressed.

"You're avoiding me." Keith said, fully stepping into the room and letting the door slide shut behind him. He sounded like barely repressed anger. Who knew how long he'd been building up to this.

"I'm not," Shiro denied. He'd tried to, when they first got back. Tried to give Keith some space to recover away from him, but the Castle wasn't that big. Short of shirking his duties and skipping meals to hide in his room, there was no way to get away from any of the other Paladins for a significant amount of time. He'd been left with no choice but to constantly be in Keith's space. He'd kept their interactions as short and strictly professional as possible.

"You're treating me like glass," Keith's voice rose as he stalked towards him.

"I don't understand," He said. He really didn't.

"You treat me like I'm going to break if you look at me wrong," Keith accused, volume just this side of shouting as he began to vent, "You run away when I enter a room. You barely speak to me. You give Lance pats on the back and hug Hunk, but you won't touch me. You can't even look at me without that guilty look on your face." Keith grabbed him by his vest and shook him. He didn't know what to say. "You're doing it now. Stop it! I'm not going to shatter. I can stand on my own. I don't need you to treat me like I'm some sort of delicate flower." Keith shoved him back.

"You're not. I don't think you are made of glass," Shiro said. That wasn't why he wanted to protect him.

"Then fight me," Keith growled, dropping into a familiar fighting stance.

"What?" Shiro said in confusion, "No. I won't." He couldn't. Not after what he'd done.

"You're lying!" Keith yelled, throwing a punch at Shiro's face, forcing him to step back to avoid injury, "You used to train with me every day," he threw another punch this time at his stomach, another step back, Shiro found himself shifting into a defensive stance automatically, "But now you use every stupid excuse under the sun to avoid sparring with me," A kick this time, Shiro deflected easily, Keith's rant was making him slow, "You think I'm weak," punch, block, "That I can't defend myself," Keith attacked, Shiro defended, "You break one stupid bone," Keith tried to feint, Shiro saw it coming, "And I'm no longer worth your time." Keith over extended himself, Shiro shoved him while he passed. Knocking him to the ground and giving him a moment to breathe. Keith looked up at him. He looked like he was going to cry.

The whole situation was a punch in the gut. Keith couldn't believe that that's what Shiro thought. He loved him. Shiro was the one that was wrong, not him. "Keith," He stepped forward reaching out to him, "I-" Keith swept his legs out from under him.

There weren't anymore words for a while. Just grunts of exertion, as they grappled on the ground. Shiro was stronger, had more experience due to his time in the arena, but Keith was no slouch and he wasn't holding back. Shiro still might have won, pinned Keith down and explained things, if he could fight down the sickening swirl in his gut about how close this all was to things he'd rather forget. His attention was split, and Keith took full advantage. They struggled back and forth, one winning for a bit then the other. It continued until Shiro slipped.

Elbowing Keith's face with his Galra arm was half accident and half combat reflexes. The hit knocked Keith off, provided a perfect opening to end the fight, but all Shiro could focus on was how Keith was bleeding from his newly split lip. What had he done? The sight of the injury multiplied and took on greater significance in his mind. Keith probably didn't even notice he'd been hurt, it was so minor, but for Shiro it was a culmination of every pain he'd inflicted on someone he professed to love. "I'm sorry," Shiro whispered, crawling back away from Keith, "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Shiro registered the anger in Keith's voice but not the words. He grabbed his own head. Tried to keep himself from flying apart.

"I'm sorry," He messed up, "I didn't mean to," He'd hurt him again, "It was an accident," This was him, not the brainwashing, "I'm so sorry."

"Shiro?" Shiro flinched away from a light touch, tried to crawl back further. He didn't deserve the touch, didn't deserve the open concern in Keith's face. He was the monster he'd been made into, how could he keep forgetting that.

He closed his eyes. Tried to block it all out. Focus on his breathing. In, out, in, out. Don't panic. He stayed that way a long time, calming himself by bits and pieces. Eventually, he was able to see his overreaction for what it was. He slowly opened his eyes.

Keith was sitting beside him now, staring out a nearby window and very carefully not touching him. He was grateful for that. The idea was silly, but he couldn't help feeling like making contact with him in this moment would taint Keith in some way.

"Better?" Keith asked. Not looking, giving him space.

"Yes," He answered truthfully, "I'm sorry," he said again. He didn't mean for the split lip this time.

"Don't be," Keith didn't need him to explain, "It wasn't your fault."

Shiro didn't respond. He was too wrung out to argue.

They sat in silence for a while until Keith spoke again, "Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been-" Keith cut him off with a look, he sighed and started over, "I hurt you."

"Haggar and her stupid magic hurt me," Keith corrected.

"I have the memories of doing it. My body and mind carried it out. Haggar just cast the spell." He said.

"You'd never hurt me on your own," Keith didn't give him a chance to object by pointing out the obvious, "The busted lip proves my point. You barely bumped it and you acted like you'd broken my arm."

"I did break your arm." He said.

"No, pretty sure the guards did that when they tackled me." Keith said flippantly, then grew serious once again, "Without that mojo screwing with your mind you don't have it in you to do me harm. Heh, even when you did, you could barely do it. Haggar had her magic so deep in your head that your eyes were glowing yellow, and you still chose to protect me by escaping rather than handing me over to her."

Shiro didn't know what to say. That was always the thing about talking with Keith. He felt like he'd been cracked open and all his flaws and weaknesses had been put on display, and here Keith was trying to argue him out of them. As if he could absolve Shiro of all his sins, through shear bull headedness.

"Shiro do you trust me?" It was a trick question, he knew, but the truth was Shiro trusted Keith with things more valuable than his life. He nodded hesitantly.

"Then trust me to judge how much risk I'm willing to take," Keith said, offering his hand to the space between them.

He didn't want to take it. He'd felt like he'd lost the right to do so, but all the things Keith said earlier were still swirling in his head. He couldn't let him keep thinking that Shiro saw him that way. Slowly he reached out and laced their fingers together.

Keith squeezed his hand and smiled.

End Note:

It's hard to stay mad at someone for avoiding sparring with you, when doing so gives them a mild panic attack.