A/N: Hey there! Had to cut this chapter a little short since I've had a lot of work piling up this month, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
When Matt awoke with chills the morning after his falling-out with Shiro, he couldn't tell if the icy feeling crawling beneath his skin was due to illness of the body, or that of his aching heart. Either way, he didn't want to get up. He couldn't. He didn't. Even when his alarm blared, he made no move to silence it. Instead, he let the ringing continue until it ceased on its own with a promise to go off again in five minutes. When it rang once again, he ignored it and allowed himself to drift between sleep and consciousness.
Somewhere in his half-asleep haze, Matt heard his dad. However, his ears felt like they were stuffed full of cotton, and he couldn't make out a word Sam said. Matt didn't have the energy to open his eyes, either, so he simply lay still in hopes that sleep would soon claim him fully.
Something colder than the chill in his skin pushed Matt's hair out of his face and touched his forehead. The sensation made him flinch, and he shied away into the warmth of his blankets. The cold touch disappeared suddenly, then the muted voice spoke again. It was louder this time. Another voice joined the muffled haze, one that Matt vaguely recognized as his mom's.
Oblivion rose from the depths of Matt's mind and claimed him slowly. He surrendered to it without a fight, happy to return to the silent, empty recesses of dreamless sleep where no emotion or sensation from the waking world could reach him, nor could his disconsolate thoughts.
-000-
Shiro didn't sleep. He was too drained to toss and turn, though his racing thoughts were enough to keep him awake on their own. He found himself staring at the ceiling, then the wall, then nothing at all. Sleep evaded him no matter how long he closed his eyes and waited.
Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. Shiro found himself groping around his nightstand in search of his phone to check the time when it felt like hours had passed, though the painfully bright screen told him it was hardly past midnight. He didn't need to get up and prepare for the day for at least six more hours. Shiro set his phone back on the nightstand and sighed loudly.
A light weight pressed into the mattress beside Shiro's legs, then crept carefully up to his elbows before moving onto his chest. He glanced down to see Eurus watching him. The cat stared at him expectantly until he dragged a hand out from under his blankets to scratch the back of her head.
"Hey," Shiro murmured softly. The barest smile tugged at the corners of his lips as Eurus laid down on his chest and leaned into his hand. However, when she glanced at his silent phone and he followed her gaze, his smile faltered. His hand paused mid-stroke on Eurus' back, and the cold dread that had settled in his stomach hours ago threatened to creep into his chest.
The…incident from earlier haunted Shiro and invaded his mind again and again no matter how hard he tried to think of anything else. At one point, he'd considered drowning his thoughts until they were lost in a bitter sea of drink. It had taken all of the willpower he could muster, alongside the echo of Najenda's voice in his mind, for Shiro to keep away from the half-empty bottle of whiskey in his refrigerator. He was tempted, though, especially when he thought about the glimpse he'd caught of—
Shiro squeezed his eyes shut as if doing so would ward off the image that surfaced in his mind. He was upset, and rightfully so, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Justification didn't ease the burning nausea he felt when he remembered what he'd seen. It had been merely a glimpse, but Shiro had seen Matt's face when he told his friend to leave. He'd seen the mix of pain, one part hurt and two parts guilt, that he could only describe as pure devastation. He'd seen it, and it haunted him. The sight was seared into the back of his eyelids, and every time he thought he was winning against the insomnia that kept him awake, that memory struck him like lightning. Shiro could push it away all he wanted, but he couldn't escape that single, momentary glimpse.
Eurus shifted on Shiro's chest. She shoved her back against his motionless hand and rubbed her face on his arm until he began to gently stroke her fur again.
"I don't know, Eurus," Shiro admitted aloud. His gaze returned to the ceiling as the ice in his gut slowly receded, replaced by a void of numbness. "I don't know."
-000-
Shiro hadn't managed to find a single second of sleep by the time his alarm went off in the morning. Even when Eurus had begun to snore quietly on his chest, he'd remained awake.
With a long, heavy sigh deep enough to wake Eurus, Shiro surrendered to the inevitability of grappling through the day exhausted. He eased Eurus off his chest, sat up, and rubbed his face tiredly. His eyes burned as if they had been flushed out with acid. Perpetual yawns seemed to stretch his jaw every other second as he showered, changed into fresh clothes, and brushed his teeth before leaving for class.
On his way to the aviation building, Shiro passed the cafeteria. He paused in front of it and stared at the doors as he contemplated whether or not to stop and pick up something for breakfast. He hadn't bothered to eat before he left. In fact, food had slipped his mind completely.
After a moment, Shiro continued on his way. He wasn't hungry, and when he thought about food for more than a few seconds, he got a feeling in the back of his throat like bile that left him nauseous. He already felt awful. There was no need to add to the burdens he already carried, and even if he got hungry during class, he would be able to grab something for lunch later. Also, the thought of walking into a place that held so many memories that included Matt didn't sound very attractive at the moment.
The remainder of Shiro's walk passed in a hazy blur. He found himself sitting in his seat in the aviation classroom with little recollection of entering the building, nor was he sure how long he'd been sitting before he realized where he was. Shiro blinked away the fog in his brain and looked around the classroom; a few other students had arrived and were scrolling on their phones while they waited for class to begin.
Anxiety bubbled in Shiro's chest as his fingers brushed the outline of his phone in his pocket. He'd looked at it a few times since the previous day, though he hadn't been paying attention to his notifications. All he'd done was glance at the time and turned the device off again each time. So, what if…?
Slowly, Shiro slipped his phone out of his pocket. The screen came to life under his thumb, and a light feeling overcame him at the sight of a missed call. However, that lightness was quickly replaced by an ice-cold wave of disappointment that made his heart sink when he checked the caller ID. Najenda. Right. Not only had Shiro seen his single friendship shatter before his eyes the previous day, he had also missed his appointment. After what happened, the appointment hadn't crossed Shiro's mind once, not even while he sat on the floor in his dorm alone and stared at the empty air in front of him for nearly an hour.
After setting a reminder to call Najenda's office back after class, Shiro set his phone on his desk face-down. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting. Why would Matt text him, let alone call, after what happened? Small disagreements were one thing, but a friendship didn't instantly bounce back from one person kicking the other out of their house, or in Shiro's case, dorm. Matt wouldn't call or text him as if nothing had happened. He probably wouldn't call or text and ask to talk, either. Not if he thought Shiro was angry with him.
Was Shiro upset? Yes. Was he angry? No, not at all. Finding out about Keith and Matt's secret conversations had been jarring for sure, but Shiro wasn't mad. He was actually glad that the two were getting along well. He only wished he had known about it.
"Good morning, class."
Shiro's gaze snapped up from his desk to the front of the room when Con's voice reached his ears. He glanced around discreetly and noticed that his classmates had entered the room along with Con while Shiro himself had been lost in his thoughts. Usually, those things didn't get past him. Shiro always noticed a new presence around him. Recognizing another body in proximity to his own was an instinct hammered into him during his time in the military. To be so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed over a dozen people walk into the room… Shiro shook his head. Class was starting. Even if he was tired and his mind preoccupied, he needed to pay attention.
"Before we start, note that I sent out an email to all of you this morning concerning the upcoming simulator tests. I intended to do those on Friday, but Instructor Holt will be out for a few days, so we'll wait until he is able to come back. With only one proctor, the exams will take too long, and we'll fall behind schedule. That being said, make sure you read the next chapter in your textbooks before Friday so we can continue with the lecture," Con explained before launching into the day's lesson.
Shiro's head spun as he tried to focus on Con's words despite the myriad of thoughts tumbling through his head. Sam wasn't at the school? Why? Had something happened to him? Had something happened to Matt, Colleen, or Pidge? Was everything okay? Was Sam's absence at all related to what had happened the previous day? It was difficult for Shiro to come up with any sort of explanation when his knowledge was so limited and his exhaustion-impaired brain power was split between thinking and listening to Con.
By the end of class, Shiro could barely suppress the urge to squirm in his seat. His worry had grown progressively during class until he couldn't stand not knowing what was wrong. He couldn't help but think Sam had heard about the events of the previous day and stayed home because of it. Would what happened change how Sam interacted with Shiro? How did one talk to their child's friend who their child was having issues with? How did Sam and Shiro's teacher-student relationship complicate that?
While the other students went straight for the door upon dismissal, Shiro wove his way through the desks and students as he made his way to the front of the classroom. He stopped a few paces away from Con, who was packing papers into his folder.
"Do you have a moment, sir?" Shiro asked. He fought the urge to fidget with his gloves as he waited for his instructor to finish gathering his things.
When Con turned to face Shiro, folder in hand, there was a slight frown on his face. "Is something wrong?" Con's gaze scanned Shiro's face. "You look unwell."
Shiro blinked, then slowly shook his head while he scrubbed at his face as if doing so would wipe away the exhaustion etched into his features. "I'm just tired, sir. I didn't sleep well," he admitted. "But, I was actually wondering if you knew why Instructor Holt is out today."
Con nodded. "His son is sick, so Holt stayed home to look after him while his wife is at work." He tilted his head as a touch of confusion drew his eyebrows together. "I'm surprised you weren't aware. Aren't you good friends with his son?"
"I—" Shiro paused, then, "I… Yes, I am. I actually texted Matt this morning, but he never got back to me. If he's sick, that must be why." The lie slipped past Shiro's lips with a slight waver, and he had to fight to keep his expression neutral as it threatened to sag.
"I see. Well, if you hear anything about when Holt intends to come back, could you let me know? I'm trying to set a new date for the simulation tests, but I don't know when to expect him back," Con explained.
Shiro nodded. "Yes, sir. Of course."
"Thank you, Shirogane," Con said. He gave Shiro a curt nod, then stepped around him and left the classroom.
Shiro stood alone in the room as his mind raced. Matt was sick? As in ill? Or was he still upset over what happened between them? Was it both? Con's explanation hadn't given Shiro as much information as he'd been hoping to receive, and he couldn't help but worry even more than he already did.
A frozen flower of apprehension blossomed in Shiro's heart, and the razor-sharp petals scraped his insides painfully. He didn't know what to think about Matt and Keith's secret conversations. He didn't know what to think about the fact that Matt had learned something he wasn't meant to know and kept it to himself. He didn't know what to think about Matt's sudden illness when he'd been completely fine twenty-four hours ago. He didn't know anything.
He didn't know.