A/N: I'm not dead? I had hope for this semester, but... taking notes on 150+ pages of textbook a week is brutal. I tried for a somewhat longer chapter this time since the major exams in one of my classes are during the first/second week of every month and I may run a little late on the next update. There will be more updates, though, I promise. Good luck to any of you currently in school, you got this, and I'll be back soon!

*Note: Shiro's sexuality is brought up again in this chapter. I began this story before it was stated in canon that Shiro is gay, and I had originally made him pansexual. I am not attempting to 'straighten' him or diverge from his canon sexuality for no reason, I am just continuing with my original plan

Shiro killed the engine of his car then paused, staring at the small building in front of him. He glanced at the paper taped to his dash and scanned over the scribble of pen in Keith's hurried penmanship.

Takashi Shirogane

Cherryfield Therapy

Dr. Najenda Kek

14:30

January 3rd, 2020

Shiro had only found out the previous day that he had an appointment two hours away from home in his college town with a therapist he'd never heard of nor asked to see. Keith had simply walked out of his room the previous morning, handed the slip of paper detailing the appointment info to Shiro, and gone back into his room.

Shiro blinked his tired eyes open slowly. He was still half asleep, though his bladder demanded he rid himself of the alcohol he'd had before falling asleep the night before. He tried to shift to a more comfortable position and ignore it, but soon gave in to the inevitable and got to his feet.

Two collisions with the walls of the hallway and a bathroom trip later, Shiro shuffled back to the couch and dropped gracelessly back onto the cushions. He tipped his head back so it rested on the top of the back cushions and closed his eyes. Sitting upright wasn't a comfortable sleeping position, but he was too tired to care. Another nap sounded good, even if his neck was going to hurt later.

The quiet 'click' of a door made Shiro open his eyes and glance toward the source – Keith stood silently in front of his bedroom door, one hand still on the knob. In the other he held a slip of paper, though Shiro couldn't read it from where he sat.

"Goo'morning, Keith," Shiro mumbled, letting his head fall back again as he closed his eyes once more. The sound of slow, nearly inaudible footsteps pulsed in his ears, then stopped. Shiro blinked his eyes open again, his gaze resting on Keith, who stood next to the couch. The teen was staring at him with an expression Shiro couldn't decipher even after over a decade of living under the same roof as Keith.

With a sigh, Shiro lifted his head and shifted in his seat so he faced Keith. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Keith said nothing, instead holding out the paper clutched in his hand. "Don't miss it," he mumbled as Shiro took the paper from him.

Shiro read over the scribbles with a frown, then whipped his head toward his brother, who had already ventured to the kitchen. "What's this?" Shiro raised his voice the slightest bit to make sure Keith could hear him from the other room.

"Someone who can help," Keith responded.

After a moment, Keith returned from the kitchen with a partially eaten apple in hand. He sunk his teeth into the fruit, ripping off a large chunk.

"I don't need a therapist," Shiro insisted, shaking his head. "Besides, they aren't cheap."

Keith swallowed his bite of apple. "She offers big discounts to veterans and has good reviews."

Shiro's eyes furrowed as he looked at the paper once again. "Where even if this?"

"Same city as your university."

"That's…far."

"Driving long-distance has never been an issue for you."

"Where did you even find this place?"

Keith gave no response. He turned around and returned to the kitchen instead.

"Keith!"

A hiss reached Shiro's ears as Keith turned on their gas stove.

"Keith!"

The stove wasn't so loud that Shiro's voice would be drowned out, but Keith still gave no response. Clearly, he wasn't going to give up his sources so easily. Not that it mattered though, as far as Shiro was aware.

With a resigned sigh, Shiro folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. He'd said he didn't need a therapist, though he knew that wasn't the case. He knew he was slipping – he'd been slipping for a while. Ever since the end of the previous semester, old problems had come back to haunt him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't drive them away, not alone. While he had Matt and Keith to rely on, they had their own lives, and Shiro didn't want to trouble them any more than he already had.

Now, sitting in his car in front of the therapist's office, Shiro didn't want to go. He knew he needed to. He knew that well. He was struggling. He needed help. However, it felt strange. He'd spoken with a therapist just before he was discharged from the military, though that had been a few rather awkward sessions over four years ago. He didn't know what to do when he went in. He didn't know if he'd be able to open up.

For a moment, Shiro considered going home. Keith had gone through the trouble to set an appointment for him, but surely he wouldn't be too upset if Shiro didn't go. It would save them money. That wasn't a bad idea, right?

A glance in the rearview mirror made Shiro's thoughts stop. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes, and his tan skin had an unhealthy ashy-grey tint. His hair was messy even though he'd tried to tame it with a comb before he left. The sides had grown out, no longer buzzed short the way he usually had it. Right. He hadn't gone out in weeks. He hadn't gotten a hair cut in… how long? He looked about as horrible as he felt.

Tearing his eyes from the face in the mirror, Shiro shoved his door open and climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. With hunched shoulders he entered the office and approached the front desk. This couldn't go on. Not after he'd seen his pitiful reflection for the first time in weeks. However, it wasn't the appearance himself that troubled him. The sight had shocked his hazy brain to life and reminded him of something far more worrisome.

Keith had been keeping to himself in the recent weeks, not approaching Shiro very often. He was out a lot, either at school, at work, or at Lance's house. However, the few glances he'd seen of Keith's face were enough to bring him to his realization, and to bury him in guilt. He thought he was the only one struggling, and he thought Keith was fine since Shiro wasn't burdening him with his struggles. Shiro had failed to realize that trying to control these troublesome flames himself didn't guarantee Keith wouldn't get burned.

As bad as Shiro had looked when he saw himself in the mirror, Keith looked worse. The deeper, darker circles under his eyes. The paler skin. The burst blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. This couldn't go on. No matter how badly Shiro wanted to run away, he couldn't allow it. Even if he could handle his troubles, Keith couldn't. After all Keith had suffered in the past because of Shiro's own suffering, Shiro couldn't stand by and watch his little brother fall apart from tearing out his own seams in search of the smallest pieces of thread so he could try to sew Shiro new ones.

-000-

"Takashi Shirogane?"

Shiro glanced up from the floor at the sound of his name. A woman stood behind the opaque door leading into the back of the office, her head peeking into the waiting room.

Sighing heavily, Shiro stood and approached her.

"You're Takashi Shirogane?" the woman asked.

"Yes ma'am," Shiro told her with an awkward polite smile and a nod. The woman returned it.

"Right this way," she said, holding open the door for him to enter.

Shiro followed the woman down the short hallway and into a room at the end. The shades were mostly drawn, and a few simple lamps in the corners cast soft light throughout the room. There was a plush sofa, two large chairs, and even a beanbag situated near a small desk and chair tucked into one of the counters.

"Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable," the woman said as she pulled out the chair at the desk.

Shiro glanced around the room, shuffling toward one of the heavily padded chairs. He sat hesitantly, perched on the edge of the seat. The point may have been to pick a comfy chair to relax in, though despite the relaxing décor, he couldn't bring his muscles to ease their tension.

"I know it's a bit late, but hello, Mr. Shirogane. I am Najenda Kek. Feel free to call me whatever you find most comfortable," the woman greeted, leaning forward and extending a hand in offering. Shiro accepted, giving her hand a light shake.

"Hello, ma'am. It's nice to meet you, and you can just call me Shiro," he said.

"Shiro?"

Shiro nodded. "It's what I usually go by."

Najenda bobbed her head in understanding as she opened the thin file sitting on her lap and scribbled something on the paper. "So, Shiro," she began, "why don't you start by telling me a little about yourself?"

"Uh.." Shiro paused, his mind blank.

"Do you have a job?" Najenda asked.

"Only during the summer months."

"What about school? Are you in college?"

"Yes. I attend the university here in town, actually."

"So do you live in the area?"

Shiro shook his head. "No, ma'am. I live about two hours away. I stay in the dorms during school."

"And how is school going? Are your grades okay? Do you talk with anyone in your classes?"

"My grades aren't bad. I mean, I don't have straight A's – well, actually I don't have straight anything - but I'm still doing pretty good."

Shiro paused, then closed his eyes as he resisted the urge to slap himself. He wasn't one to make sexuality jokes, though it seemed he'd spoken with Lance a few too many times, seeing as he'd just borrowed one of the teen's exact lines.

"Does your sexuality trouble you at all?" Najenda asked. Her expression didn't so much as shift, and Shiro found himself glad that she hadn't laughed at his awful joke.

"No, not really. Sure, I've run into homophobic people, but typically I don't get much trouble for it since people find me, well, intimidating," Shiro explained. "I like guys, and women are nice too. Both, either, neither… none of it really matters to me."

Najenda nodded. "When you say people find you 'intimidating,' what exactly are you referring to?"

Shiro frowned. "Well, I mean, I'm kind of a big guy. And I do have a massive scar on my face, so that tends to make people take a step back."

"Does that trouble you?"

"Yeah, kinda? It used to bother me a lot more, since everyone in my classes tended to avoid me. But this last semester I became friends with an IT student who was never really bothered by how I look. Sure, I still get bothered by people who look at me like I'm some sort of delinquent, but he's helped me feel a little better. It's only one person, but just knowing that someone isn't bothered by how I look is… nice."

"Is he the only person from school that you spend time with?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I don't have any friends in my classes, except one of my aviation instructors. But he actually turned out to be my friend's dad, so that was kind of weird. Not bad weird, just, you known, surprising?"

"Do you get along well with both of them?"

"Yeah. I even met the rest of their family. They're all really good people." Shiro paused, then added, "and they have a cute dog."

Najenda bobbed her head. She wrote something out on her paper then looked up at Shiro. "Why don't you tell me a little about your friend? The student."

Shiro scanned the room as he gathered his thoughts. "Well, his name is Matt. He's quite a bit younger than me, five years, or, almost six, actually, but it doesn't really bother him. He does IT work, like I said, which is actually how I met him. My phone broke during the first week of classes last semester, and he was the person working at the IT Center when I took it in to get fixed."

"So, you two have only known each other a few months?"

"Yeah, but it feels longer. More like years, I guess."

"Can you describe him to me?"

"Uh, he's got kinda long hair?" Shiro motioned toward his shoulders. "About this long, and he's been putting it in a ponytail. He's a bit shorter than me, but he's gotten a lot taller than he was when we first met. He had short hair then, and I actually thought he was a high school student because he was so small. Now he's, maybe chin height on me? He was really skinny, too. He still is, but he's picked up working out recently, so he looks more his age than he did before."

Najenda nodded. "So is Matt just your friend, or maybe a potential romantic partner?"

Shiro felt his face go red. "Uh, no, no, uh… He's just a friend. I mean, I don't think he's unattractive or anything. He's a handsome guy, but he's just, y'know, a friend."

Najenda wrote something down, and Shiro wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He'd never really thought of Matt like that. Matt would probably be a good boyfriend. Kind, but not a pushover. Smart, patient, strong with newfound confidence… Yes, he was definitely boyfriend material….

Shiro shook his head. Boyfriend material, yes. Boyfriend material for Shiro himself, no. Just because they were both guys, and both of them liked guys… No, they were friends. They didn't have any awkward tension between them. It was nice, and the fact that Shiro's face was burning didn't mean anything. He was just embarrassed – who wouldn't be? Questions about boyfriends and girlfriends were always a little embarrassing.

As if she sensed Shiro's unease – which, as a therapist, she probably did – Najenda changed course. "What about family?" she asked.

Shiro shrugged, the heat starting to fade from his cheeks. "There isn't much to talk about there. I don't really remember my parents, or what happened to them, or if something happened to them. I was in the system for a while, then my brother's dad adopted me when I was ten. I don't really know how he managed it, since Keith's mom was long gone and his dad was a single parent, but I was with them for seven years. Then his dad died in a fire – he was a firefighter – and I had to look after Keith. He's really all I have now."

"Keith is your step-brother?"

Shiro nodded.

"And how old is Keith?" Najenda asked.

"He's eighteen."

"And you?"

"I'm twenty-five. I'll be twenty-six at the end of February."

Najenda was quiet for a moment as she wrote on her papers, then she looked up and met Shiro's gaze. "So your brother was eleven and you were seventeen when your stepfather died, and you've been his legal guardian ever since?"

Shiro nodded. "He died shortly before I turned eighteen. Luckily, there wasn't enough time for Keith to be put in the system before I turned eighteen, so we didn't get separated."

Najenda bobbed her head. "I was told you were in the military for a few years," she continued. "Was that a choice you made to support your brother?"

Shiro went quiet. Najenda's earlier questions hadn't been very invasive. It was clear she had started by looking for information to create a decent framework of him before she delved deeper. The questions about Keith and other family was likely meant to be a deeper question but thinking about the answers wasn't troubling for Shiro. He never met his biological family, and while he missed Mr. Kogane, the man had been out of the house more often than he was home, working hard to bring in enough money to support two sons alone. Shiro was grateful to him and had no ill feelings toward his stepfather, but they hadn't been as close as some of the others Shiro had lost. No losses hit harder than those Shiro had experienced after it was him and Keith against the world – the losses his military career had in some way all led to, directly or inadvertently.

"Uh, no, actually. I had planned to enlist before my stepdad died. After losing him, the income from enlisting was just another reason to stick with my plan," he admitted.

"Who looked after your brother while you were away?"

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. "Keith spent a lot of time by himself at home, but his friend's mom watched out for him while I was gone. She'd already pretty much adopted the two of us before my stepdad died; she packed extra food for her son to bring to school and share with Keith, and on the weekends when my stepdad was gone, she would always come over and say she made too much food while making dinner and give us the 'extras'. After my stepdad died, she and her husband came by more often and would invite Keith and I over for meals." Shiro's lips curled up in a fond smile. "She always complained about Keith being too skinny and scolded me for not eating enough even though I was trying to bulk up to prepare for enlisting. After I left, Keith would go over to their house and stay for a night, or even a couple days in a row. I got worried about leaving him by himself when I first left since he was still very young, but Mrs. McClain let me know he was being looked after, so it took a lot of stress off my shoulders."

"Are you still in contact with Mrs. McClain and your brother's friend?"

"Yeah, of course. Keith and Lance argue all the time, but they're closer than ever. Keith stays over at his house all the time, even when I'm home between semesters, and Mrs. McClain still checks in to make sure we're not going hungry."

"Are you satisfied with the relationship your families have?"

The question caught Shiro off guard, and the warmth that has started to flood his veins was suddenly flushed away by a wave of frigid cold. "Uh, I don't… know, I guess," he admitted. "I'm so grateful for the McClains and I don't know if Keith or I would have made it this far without them, but…" Shiros hands clenched in his lap. "Sometimes I think about how much they've done for us and can't help but feel guilty. I know I'll never be able to repay them for everything they did for us, no matter how badly I was to. I want them to focus on themselves and not worry about us, because they don't have to help us, but they won't. I hate owing people, and I hate making trouble for others, but I know too well that Keith and I can't make it without them."

"Shiro," Najenda said softly. "You don't need to feel guilty about accepting help. If it was too troublesome for them, they would have turned their backs long ago. Like you said, they aren't required to help you and your brother, but they do, and people do these things because they care." Najenda brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "From what you described, it seems like you are family to the McClains, regardless of whose blood runs through your veins. You never owe family, and there's no shame in accepting help from the people who care about you."

Shiro nodded slowly. He understood what Najenda was saying, though it didn't make him feel much better. He'd spent years trying not to be a burden on Lance's family, and every time he accepted their help, he added a mark on his mental list of things to repay the McClains for. He'd grown up independent with few or no people to lean on for support. As stupid as it felt to admit it, he honestly wasn't sure how to accept support from someone for nothing in return.

It seemed Shiro's silence had gone on for too long, as Najenda cleared her throat to call his attention. "On another note," she began, changing the subject once again, "why don't you tell me a little more about school? You said you're an aviation student, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

-000-

Shiro sighed heavily as he dropped his keys on the kitchen table upon arriving home. The session hadn't been too bad – Najenda hadn't pushed too far – and it felt nice to get things off his chest without worrying about being a burden on someone. He never talked much about his guilt over his reliance on the McClain family, as he didn't want to seem like he didn't appreciate their help. While the drive to her office was long, the fact that Najenda was two hours away and would likely never meet the McClains made it easier for Shiro to share his true feelings.

Only a small weight had been lifted from Shiro's shoulder, but weight was weight. He found himself standing straighter, and after a single glance at the couch, he strode past it and went to his room instead.

After changing into something more comfortable than jeans and ridding himself of his leather gloves, Shiro left his room and crossed the hallway to knock on Keith's door. He got no response. He knocked again. "Keith?" Still nothing.

Concerned, Shiro started walking room to room in search of his younger brother. Keith's car was outside, so he couldn't be at work, and it was far too late for him to still be at school. However, there was no sign of the teen anywhere in the house.

Biting his lip in concern, Shiro returned to Keith's bedroom door and knocked again. When he heard nothing, he grabbed the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Usually, he would never enter Keith's room without permission. Keith was an adult and had a right to privacy. However, this was one of the few cases in which worry overrode anything else.
Shiro hesitantly poked his head into the room and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. He scanned the room when the lights flickered to life, but there was no Keith in sight.

The little relief Shiro had felt after talking to Najenda disappeared as his mind instantly went to the worst. Had Keith gotten into trouble? Did something happen at school? Was he sick? Typically, Shiro would have noticed if anything was wrong, but he'd been so caught up in his own struggles that he hadn't had the energy to keep a good eye on Keith.

A slight tremor shook Shiro's hands as he dug for his phone in his pocket. He unlocked it and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for and pressed 'call'. The phone rang twice before the other end picked up.

"Hey, ma'am, it's Shiro," Shiro greeted. "Sorry to bother you, but is Keith over at your house by any chance?"

Mrs. McClain hummed on the other end. "Yes, yes, he is. Lance picked him up after school to work on a paper they forgot about during their winter break."

"Oh, I see," Shiro said. He moved the phone away for a moment as a sigh of relief escaped him, then returned it to his ear. "Do you need me to go pick him up? I can be there in a few minutes."

"It's okay. Keith fell asleep earlier while they were working, so I was just going to let him stay here tonight and get some rest. I told Lance to text you, but he must have forgotten."

"It's fine, I'm just glad to know where he is. I just got back from, uh, some errands, and he wasn't home, so I got a bit worried. Are you sure it's okay for him to stay the night?"

"Yes, don't worry about it. There is always room for both Keith and you in this house. Besides, Keith needs to rest. He's such a hard worker; it's tiring, especially for people his age. I wish Lance tried as hard as Keith did in school, but he's more interested in goofing off. He's still a child at heart, that one, but I guess that's why the two of them get along so well."

Shiro almost snorted in amusement. "Yeah. Opposites attract, right?"

Mrs. McClain chuckled. "Anyway, don't worry about Keith tonight, and I'll have Lance drop him off at home after school tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you for looking after him, really," Shiro said.

"It's no problem, mijo. Take care of yourself, yes?"

"Of course, ma'am."

"Good night, Shiro."

"Good night, ma'am."

The call ended, and Shiro let his phone fall to his side. It was barely six o'clock at night, but Keith was already asleep? He'd looked tired, more so than usual, but Keith rarely slept before nine at the earliest. For him to fall asleep so early, and while doing homework, meant the teen was in worse shape than Shiro thought. Keith was a senior in high school… and weren't semester exams coming up in the next few weeks? He also had a part-time job with shifts that ended late at night, even when he had school the next day. Keith was an insomniac, too, so he was typically sleep-deprived even without the little tasks and difficulties that kept him awake well into the night. And all the while, Keith had been looking out for him, for Shiro. Keith had run himself ragged when it should have been the other way around. That was why this couldn't go on. Shiro was slipping, and he was dragging Keith down with him whether he meant it or not. If he didn't get his act together, he'd pull more people down, maybe even Matt or Sam. Shiro couldn't let that happen.

Returning to his room, Shiro fished through his wallet for the small appointment card he'd tucked away. His next appointment with Najenda was in a little over a week, on the day after classes started. He hadn't planned on setting another appointment, though the charge for his session ended up being far less than he expected after his veteran's discount was applied. When he walked out of the office feeling lighter than he had in weeks, he couldn't think of an excuse to not go back. Whether he liked it or not, pretending to be 'tough' and claiming he didn't need help was a lie that would only cause damage to both Shiro and those around him, just as it had already hurt Keith. He needed to face the things he'd been running from for the past eight years, and Najenda was the best means of doing so.

Shiro set the appointment card on his nightstand, then dropped onto his bed. He pulled out his phone and opened the messenger app to see a handful of texts from Matt, none of which he'd answered. Had he even opened them? The past week and a half had been a blur; he couldn't remember.

The texts went back to Christmas day, and the most recent were from New Year's Day.

Dec 25, 2019

Matt: Hey shiro

Matt: Merry christmas

Matt: Bae bae also says happy holidays

Jan 1, 2020

Matt: Happy New Year

Shiro smiled slightly as he read over the texts, then frowned as he thought about what Matt might be thinking. Did he believe Shiro was upset with him? After not responding to a single text in over a week and being so cold when they parted on Christmas Eve, there was no way Matt wouldn't think something was wrong.

The thought of Matt being angry with him sent a chill down Shiro's spine, and he quickly pulled up his keyboard and began typing out a message.

Shiro: Sorry I haven't responded, something came up. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, even though it's a bit late

Shiro tapped power button on his phone and let it drop on his chest. He was tired, but also oddly energized. Part of him wanted to move, but he didn't quite know what to do. It was a bit late to go out for a run, and he didn't feel like he had the mental energy to take his usual route. His workout equipment was all packed away in a closet and would take too much time to get out and set up.

Shiro lifted a hand to scrub at his face, then ran it through his tuft of white hair and over the top of his head. He paused. Right. His hair was still as long and overgrown as he'd noticed earlier. He'd thought about stopping at a stylist after his session but had completely forgotten by the time he left the office.

With a frown, Shiro picked his phone back up and opened google.

"What stylists are still open?" he mumbled to himself.