A/N: Hey! I took a little break from writing in the middle of June since I'm working nearly full time now, so I wrote this new chapter somewhat recently. It's a little shorter than what I wanted, but the next one is planned to be long, so hopefully that makes up for it. I'm uploading just before I need to go to work, so i hope you all enjoy this chapter!
It was Saturday the next time Shiro saw Matt. The Holts had originally planned to keep him home until Monday, but he had been recovering well. He finished his missed schoolwork in less than two days and gotten bored to the point that Sam walked into his room to find him half dangling off his bed solving a Rubik's Cube while upside down. Matt called Rift and asked if he could go in and work on projects in the back room, and the Holts allowed him to go on the condition that he would allow Colleen to walk him from the car to the IT Center, then not leave the room until one of his parents arrived at the IT Center itself to walk him to the car.
Shiro had been informed of Matt's presence on campus by a text.
Matt: Hey I'm back at school
Matt: Well not really at school more like im on campus
Matt: I was getting really bored
Matt: Rift let me go to work
Matt: I just gotta stay in the back room out of sight
Matt: Ive only been here for 20 mins and my hands already hURT
Matt: Anyone who doesn't do tech work will never understand the pain of hand cramping from using tiny screwdrivers and tweezers
In less than a minute, Shiro was stepping out the door with his keys in one hand and phone in the other. He'd yanked on his leather gloves and a random jacket that was clearly not warm enough for the cool, late-November day, but he didn't care. He had places to be, and a little bit of a chill wasn't going to make him turn back.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Shiro continued on his way. He wanted to put his head down to help keep some of the cold breeze off his face, but his instincts refused to let him rest. He was alert; chin up, muscles tense, eyes scanning his surroundings continuously.
As Shiro neared the IT Center, he started to feel a little calmer. He hadn't seen anyone else out on the street, other students likely staying inside instead of venturing into the cold. With everything that had happened recently, Quinn wasn't the only one who made him wary. Random people he'd never met before made him tense up, and anyone who stared at him a little too long made him start to feel threatened. Shiro knew he was simply hyperaware, his brain wound up so tight that he could barely relax. The tightness that twisted his chest only grew more uncomfortable no matter how slowly he breathed.
As Shiro rounded the last corner on the way to the IT Center, he froze. In front of the building stood a young man in a navy-blue hoodie, hands in his pockets. His head was tilted up as he gazed at the higher floor, and even from the side, Shiro recognized him instantly.
Quinn's gaze slid from the building to Shiro, and his lips pulled themselves into a slight frown. He stood and watched Shiro with a blank look that betrayed none of the thoughts in his head or emotions in his heart. His eyes were desolate. He didn't look distraught, afraid, cheerful, or smug. Unlike the average person, he gave nothing away; a good actor indeed.
Shiro felt something snap in his gut, and his hands clenched into fists so tense that he felt the leather of his gloves threatening to split. The cold was suddenly a distant memory as his body flooded with the heat of fury and rage. Every fiber of his being wanted to step forward, grab Quinn, and snap him like a twig. Break his arms, shatter his fingers so he'd never be able to make a fist again, nor would he be able to hurt some again. Paint his face black and blue with punches hard enough to leave a dent. Make him bleed, make him cry, make him feel every ounce of pain he'd every inflicted on anyone, Matt especially.
Shiro didn't move. Violence wasn't something he enjoyed, and not even beating Quinn – of all people – to a pulp would bring him so much as a smile. He might feel that he accomplished something, that he got revenge, but then he'd just feel cold. He wasn't the savage or brute some people believed he was when they saw him; that was the person in front of him. Besides, there was something far more important than his own anger on Shiro's mind. Matt had told him to stand down. Matt, the one who was suffering, had made a request. He'd endured Quinn's twisted wrath partially for Shiro's sake, and the last thing Shiro wanted to do was waste that sacrifice. Matt had been right about Quinn being crafty, but Quinn wouldn't need crafty if the security camera above the door of the building in front of them caught Shiro lunging at Quinn and beating the shit out of him.
It was Quinn who moved first. He turned to face Shiro, then continued to stare. He stared for nearly a minute, jaw tense, then turned around and walked away.
Shiro watched Quinn go, standing with his feet rooted to the concrete beneath them until Quinn was completely out of sight. Only then did Shiro take a step, heavy feet stomping the ground just a little too hard as he made his way inside.
Pausing outside the door to the IT Center, Shiro took a deep breath. He tried to calm his nerves and bury the anger that made his blood boil beneath his skin, though the lingering tension refused to go away. The tightness that had been building in his chest had only grown worse, nearly strangling him.
Shaking out his head, Shiro stepped into the IT Center. He instantly caught the attention of the girl at the counter – Cypress - who took one look at him and walked into the back room. She emerged moments later with Matt, whose face had finally shed the bruises that had colored it days ago. Only a slight shadow around one of his eyes remained.
"Hey," Matt greeted, a small smile on his face.
"Hey," Shiro returned.
Matt walked along the counter to the far end where a short door with a plain handle was. He pulled the door open and gestured toward the back room with his head, waiting until Shiro hesitantly stepped past the counter before he closed the door and led the way. The pair took a sharp turn after entering the back room, coming to a halt at a row of tables with a few chairs stacked next to them in the corner of the room.
As Shiro pulled a chair from the stack and set it down for himself, he noted with a feeling of nausea that the table Matt was working at was completely out of sight for anyone on the customer side of the counter. There was even an array of broken tech laid out across the other tables spanning the wall on the side of the room Matt was on. There was plenty to work on, so much that Matt wouldn't have to pass the doorway to grab another project to work on when he finished what he was doing. He'd never be in sight for anyone who might come by the IT Center. No one else would know he was there.
Neither Matt nor Shiro spoke for the first ten minutes that Shiro was there. Matt was focused on his work, switching between screwdrivers, tweezers, and tools Shiro didn't recognize without missing a beat. Shiro simple watched him, intrigued. Seeing Matt working was… nice, in a way. His face was relaxed, though his eyebrows would pinch together when something didn't go right. He'd bite his lip when working on something small, so intensely focused that even an earthquake probably couldn't break his concentration.
When Matt finished with the project he'd been working on when Shiro arrived, he set it aside with a growing pile of finished work and started looking over the remaining broken tech next to him. He ended up plucking a phone with a shattered screen from the pile and returning to his seat with it.
Just as Matt was about to get started, Cypress greeted a customer. Shiro tensed, straining his ears as he tried to listen for the voice of the customer. When the customer spoke in an unfamiliar tone, Shiro let out a sigh and closed his eyes in relief. Once he opened them, he saw Matt watching him with a slightly confused look as he held a screwdriver in his fingers loosely.
Shiro tried glancing away, but Matt was still looking at him expectantly, clearly interested in what made Shiro so hyperaware. A dark look in his eyes told Shiro he already knew but was waiting to hear it himself.
"On my way over, I saw Quinn standing in front of the building," Shiro admitted, his gaze resting on the floor. "He was staring up at this floor."
Matt said nothing, so Shiro risked a glance up. Matt's expression expressed some of the worry Shiro had expected, though he was surprised to find his friend leveling him with a wary look.
"Did you do anything?" Matt asked slowly, his gaze gradually sliding toward the phone in his hand.
"No. No, I didn't," Shiro assured. He saw Matt's shoulders relax slightly. "I wanted to-" Matt's head whipped toward Shiro as he raised his eyebrows in warning "-but I didn't, I promise."
Setting down his screwdriver, Matt sighed. "Thanks." He blinked slowly, and his face seemed to age ten years in mere seconds. He was stressing over the possibility of seeing Quinn, the extreme vigilance and anxiety that came with not seeing Quinn, worry over what might happen to his friends and family, and what he could and could not avoid.
Matt opened his mouth like he meant to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. In the end, nothing came out. Instead, he shook his head and returned to working.
Shiro watched with a pang of guilt. He knew what it was like to feel stuck, to have no answers. He'd never been in Matt's exact position, but he'd seen similar situations. To be threatened with your friends on the line –your family—Shiro knew that well. He didn't like the way Matt was thinking, the way he was accepting the brunt of everything Quinn was throwing at him for the sake of others. However, Shiro knew that he was no different. He would do the exact same thing no matter who tried to change his mind, so who was he to lecture Matt more than he already had? It was easier to suffer than to watch those you care about suffer.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke Shiro from his thoughts, and he looked over his shoulder to see Cyprus poking her head through the door.
"Matt," she said, trying to get her coworkers attention. Matt was silent.
"Matt."
"Matt."
Cyprus' attempts were fruitless; Matt was already deep in his own head and focused on his work.
Taking pity on Cyprus, Shiro turned away from her and reached toward his friend. "Matt," he called, tapping lightly on the younger man's upper arm. "Matthew."
Matt's head jerked up his gaze zipping from the phone in front of him to Shiro, then to Cyprus. "Hm?"
Cyprus shook her head, but her lips were turned up in an amused smile. "Your dad just called us and said you left your painkillers at home. He wants to know if you want someone to bring them," she explained.
Matt frowned. "Why didn't he just call me?" he asked.
"He did. Four time, apparently."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. Now if you value your life, answer quickly."
"No, I'm fine."
Cypress swung out of the doorway, returning to the counter outside.
Matt and Shiro watched Cypress go, then Matt dug around in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and was met with notifications for four missed calls and seven texts from both Sam and Colleen.
"I am so dead."
Shiro frowned. "Can't blame your parents for worrying."
Matt nodded in agreement, scrubbing at his face with his hands. He winced when he pressed too hard on the fading bruise around his eye, pulling his hands away from his face abruptly with a scowl.
"Ow."
Shiro furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Are you sure you don't need painkillers? I could always run back to my dorm and grab some."
Matt shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I haven't taken any the last few days."
"You do look much better."
Matt scrunched up his face into an exaggerated pout. "Oh no, did you miss my beautiful, undamaged face?"
Shiro left out an amused huff. "Yes, it was so tragic," he stated sarcastically. His voice softened. "I'm just glad you're not hurt anymore."
"Just about. I want to say all I have to do is steer clear of Quinn, but something tells me it won't be that easy."
Shiro frowned. "Is he actively going after you?" That would explain seeing him outside the building earlier.
"When he jumped me earlier this week, that was no accident."
"Has he been doing that since we saw him in the library that first time?"
"No, I think he just happened to be in the same area at the same time at first."
"What changed?"
Matt was silent for a moment, and Shiro felt unease creeping up his throat like bile. "What happened?" he asked slowly, his voice low.
Matt looked away from Shiro with a wince. If the conversation were about anything else, Shiro would have stopped pushing there. However, Quinn was no topic to be gentle with.
"I, uh, saw him at the aviation fair."
Shiro's blood ran cold.
Matt sighed. "I went out to my dad's car to get the computer charger, and he was headed into the fair. He called out to me and when I asked why he was there since I thought he might have been following me, he said he was interested in the aviation program," he explained. "I don't know if I believed him or not, but by then, I was tired of being afraid of him. It was stressing me out, and I'm stronger than I was in high school."
Shiro's jaw muscle twitched from tension.
"I decided I'd tell him to shove it up his ass, then I told him to fuck off and left before he could say anything back. That pissed him off. He even brought it up when he jumped me, basically saying he wanted revenge or something."
"What did your dad say about it?" Shiro asked. He was surprised Sam hadn't abandoned ship at the fair and taken Matt home then and there.
"Oh, uh… I didn't tell him. I didn't want to make him worry."
Shiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should have told him, or me. We're here to help you, Matt."
"I know! I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get anyone else involved, and I didn't think he'd be able to kick the shit out of me even if he tried. When he jumped me, I fought back okay at first, it was just when he started threatening you…" Matt trailed off.
"But if it happens again, you'll protect yourself," Shiro stated. His voice may have been warm, but his words were clearly an order.
"I know." Matt's voice had gone quiet. He scrunched up his eyebrows as if deep in thought, then looked back at Shiro. With an expressionless face, Matt looked Shiro directly in the eyes and said, "If I see him again, he can say goodbye to his kneecaps."
Shiro stared. He said nothing at first, then cocked his head in confusion.
Matt searched Shiro's face with a hopefully glint in his eyes, though once he realized Shiro didn't understand, he sighed. "It's because, y'know, I'm short. And short people… can just… go for the knees."
Shiro frowned. "You're not that short. I mean, you were at the beginning of the semester but… you grow like a weed."
It was Matt's turn to frown. The younger man abruptly stood, then stared at Shiro expectantly until he stood as well. They weren't too far apart, and it was easy to see that Matt had in fact grown significantly. Not long ago when they'd started Matt's self-defense lessons, he'd been about chin-height on Shiro. Now, the top of his head was just under Shiro's nose.
"Holy shit."
Matt tilted his head up to look up at Shiro, then looked down, then back up again. "If I'm not taller than you by next year I'm gonna eat an onion like an apple." His face was determined
Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Okay, first of all, don't. Second of all-" Shiro paused, a playful grin manifesting on his face "-don't count on it," he challenged.
Matt snorted. "Oh, I will."
Caught up in the moment, neither heard footsteps approaching until a voice made them both jump.
"If you boyfriends are done giggling and staring lovingly into each other's eyes, I need a hand."
Cyprus stood with her arms crossed and side leaning against the doorframe, her face painted with an expression that said she wasn't serious. Still, Matt and Shiro both went pink, and Matt quickly jerked away and dropped into his chair.
"What did you need?" Matt asked, turning around to face his coworker. There was a slight tremor in his voice.
Cyprus nodded at Shiro. "I need to borrow The Incredible Hulk over here. A customer just dropped off a tower that weighs twice what I do, so I can't bring it back here."
Matt looked to Shiro, who nodded, then back at Cyprus. "Okay, but if you break him, you're buying me a new one."
Shiro put a hand on his chest with a look of mock betrayal. "How dare you assume such a priceless work of art could be replaced!"
The three broke into chuckles as Cyprus led Shiro to the counter while Matt got back to work. Shiro made quick work of moving the computer that had been brought in, letting Cyprus lead him around and guide him to the proper area for new arrivals. He then pulled out his phone to check the time and discovered that he'd been at the IT Center longer than he thought.
Shiro glanced around, noting that Cyprus had gone back to the counter while Matt was once again hyper-focused on the tech in front of him. He seemed to have gotten quite a bit done earlier but was only working on his second project since Shiro arrived. There was still a massive pile of broken tech next to him, and he likely had five hours left in his shift at most. That wasn't enough time to finish the work at his current pace.
Unsure of whether he wanted to stick around and talk to Matt and watch over him or leave Matt in peace to finish his work without distractions, Shiro frowned. He glanced at his phone again, then at Matt, then at all the broken tech. He debated, weighing the choices in his head against his worries, then finally made a decision. Shiro tapped the volume button on his phone, turning the ringer all the way up, then crossed the room. He tapped Matt on the shoulder, then waited for his friend to break away from his focus.
"Hm?" Matt tilted his head back, the base of his skull dropping to his shoulders as he leaned over the back of his chair and looked up at Shiro while still holding the broken phone he was working on in his hands.
"You look like you've got a lot to do, so I think I'll head out," Shiro said. His eyebrows furrowed. "Just… If you have a problem, call me. I'll be back before you know it."
Matt gave Shiro a thankful smile and nodded. "I will, thanks."
Shiro returned Matt's nod, then turned and headed for the main room. Just as he reached the door, Matt's voice rang out behind him.
"You be careful too."
` Shiro paused. He was a huge and intimidating guy. It was rare that he'd encounter any dangerous situations, seeing as most people would take one look at him and decide they wanted to keep their neck intact. For that reason, no one ever felt the need to express worry over his safety. It was nice to hear, though. Matt's words were a reminder that Shiro wasn't just someone there to protect him, but also his friend. They looked after each other. Shiro smiled.
"I will."
Minutes later, the two were far apart. Matt was still in his seat, and Shiro was already out of the building. However, the pair stopped in sync. Shiro ceased his walking, and Matt set down his tools. Both leaned their heads back, anxiety welling up within them, then exhaled a long, slow breath. Neither were sure where to go next, what to do to keep the other safe. They'd made it this far, though, and knew they would figure something out. Matt picked up his tools again with newfound focus steadying his shaky hands. Shiro resumed walking, a new destination in mind.
-000-
The university's gym had dozens of machines Shiro frequented with every trip, though this time, he bypassed them all. He didn't feel like lifting dumbbells or heavy bars, nor was he interested in doing lunges or squats on the open floor as he often liked to. He bypassed the treadmills with a grimace. The last thing he wanted to do was run, let alone on something with no start or end point.
Shiro found himself in front of the punching bags in the back of the gym, his leather gloves pulled tight over his fingers. He'd stopped at his dorm for mere minutes to change his clothes, then he was off to the gym. He hadn't even bothered to bring his duffel bag, only a set of earbuds for music. He put them in but didn't bother to play a song. He was feeling too impatient to pick a song, or even push the play button and listen to whatever came on. The constant, faint ringing in his ears was enough to cover any background noise the earbuds didn't fully block out.
Shiro shifted his feet, then launched a fist into the bag. The chains above and below the bag rattled in protest from the force. He punched again, harder this time. Then again, and again. His strikes became increasingly more violent, his jaw muscles clenching so tightly that his jaw itself felt like it might lock. Shiro ignored it and continued. All the anger that had flooded him recently, the pure fury that had bubbled up within him and been forced down again and again was returning. It made the air around him feel hot as if he was burning alive. Maybe he was, boiling from the inside out from the heat of his own anger. Anger toward Matt for not putting himself first. Anger toward Quinn for making the life of the kindest, most considerate young man Shiro knew a shadow of suffering. Anger toward himself for not being able to act, not knowing how to help. Everything he'd bottled up recently, from the stress and anger others brought upon him to the repetitive losing battles he fought in his own head that kept him awake at night and sapped him of every ounce of energy he had, came spilling forth. Shiro simply lost himself in a flurry of attacks on the punching bag in front of him. Harsh punches were joined by savage kicks and sharp elbows and knees. Shiro let everything out, pouring every bit of the fire within him into the target in front of him while his heavy, deep breaths released the heat from within him.
Hours may have passed while Shiro was attacking the punching bag, or it could have been mere minutes. Time meant nothing to him at the moment. He was focused, and nothing else mattered, not until his phone came to life in his pocket.
Shiro's heart froze, and he ripped his phone out of his pocket before the second ring could even start. His eyes closed in on the number and he found that it was only a spam call. The sight made Shiro sigh in relief for the tenth time that day as he slid his phone back into his pocket.
An attempt to lift his head left Shiro a failure. Instead of returning to his phase of rage, he stumbled forward and leaned against the punching he'd nearly annihilated. There were dents in the bag that Shiro wasn't sure would smooth out, but he didn't have it in him to care. He'd let everything out, the rush of adrenaline from the call washing away with every bit of strength he had left. Now he was an exhausted shell. He was still angry, but it didn't boil his blood or make his jaw clench.
Struggling to catch his breath as his downcast eyes crawled slowly around the floor, Shiro sagged against the punching bag. He hadn't had such a strong outburst in years. He simply hoped the whole Quinn issue would be resolved soon, that Quinn would end up too far away to ever so much as look at Matt again. If not, Shiro wasn't sure how much more he could take before he couldn't hold himself back. He didn't like violence, but a human could only hang on so long before they snapped, and the cord holding Shiro's sanity together frayed faster and faster with each passing day of crushing anxiety over what would happen next.