What is wrong with you. Fucking Uber? Who uses Uber anymore? I don't think- wait, what's Keith saying?

"-store. Then we can- Shiro. Are you listening?"

Shiro was pulled from his thoughts, pulling up to a red light. He looked over to Keith, who was staring back. "What?"

Keith chuckled, looking down at the paperwork in his lap. "I was telling you to go to the Walgreens on 4th and Oak, my dad's medicine should be there, then I was thinking we could go to a department store to get him some clothes for the next few days." Keith didn't look up, reading through the notes.

Shiro continued on the way, taking note of the changes that happened in the years since his initial launch into space.

It was quiet in the car. That sentence is not something Shiro would complain about, Keith is not one to make small talk, and Shiro likes to drive without distraction. Sometimes they would turn on the radio if they were desperate, but not often.

Shiro pulled the car into the Walgreens, parking the car upfront. Keith hurried in, leaving Shiro and Heath alone in the car.

Shiro tapped on the steering wheel, looking out his window. Heath sighed, clearing his throat.

"I feel like I should thank you, for everything you did." Shiro turned around to look at Heath. He was looking out the window, eyes distant. "I don't know what all Keith went through during his time in foster care, and I may never. But, he never stopped talking about you yesterday; he calls you his brother."

"I know Keith, or.. at least I feel like I still do. And he was never easy to befriend, even as a kid. So, for him to call you that, to look happy when he sees you, that is something I am grateful for. So, thank you."

Shiro sat there, looking at Heath. He didn't think Keith talked about him, at least enough to make it seem like Shiro hung the stars in the sky. But the look in Heath's eye, regret and self-loathing, caught him off guard.

"He talks about you, too." Shiro smiled, remembering younger Keith, reminiscing about everything they did together.

"Keith loves you. He would talk for hours about how much fun he had with you, and how much he wished he could tell you things he learned, and saw, and did. I bought him a video camera, once, on a whim. Someone said that making videos for someone that you wish could see them would help grieving. He asked me for a new card for it in less than a month." Heath laughed, leaning his head on the glass, finally looking up to the mirror.

Heath grabbed a jacket, the one he was buried with, apparently, and pulled out a photo. Shiro looked at it, taking in the fringed sides and the yellowing color. He gasped.

The picture was in the desert, outside a house. Heath was significantly younger, holding a child Keith by his legs. Keith was hanging there, his arms in wild positions, a huge grin on his face.

"I kept a box of pictures under my bed. All of Keith, being a happy, healthy child. I was going to put them in a book for Keith when he turned 18, but this one," Heath gripped the picture, hard. "This one was special. It was the fifth anniversary of my parents dying. I was feeling down, and Keith grabbed me by my hand and pulled me outside. This 6-year-old child had pulled my bike outside and had a picnic basket all packed and ready to go. He wanted to go on a day trip, just the two of us, out in the desert.

"Now, he wasn't allowed to touch the bike without me there, but... he did all of that, with the knowledge that he could have been in trouble. I was shocked, but we took that bike, rode out into the desert, and spent the day out there. And after we came home, I set up the tripod and camera I had and took that picture." Heath stared at the picture, eyes glassy.

Shiro sighed, leaving the man to silently reminisce, laying his head on the steering wheel.

Keith tapped his foot impatiently, listening to the nervous voice of the cashier. He was still four people back in line, one of which was a disaster mother and her 3 kids, an old man yelling into his flip phone, a teenager protectively holding a box and a bottle of clear liquid, and the lady who was holding up the line.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY COUPONS EXPIRED?!" Keith's ears are ringing.

"Ma'am, please. Calm down. These coupons say they expired two weeks ago. I will have to charge you full price, unless you have another one that is still good." A nervous cashier held her hands up in surrender. The woman yelling turned a dark shade of red; Keith almost believed she would pass out.

"IF I HAD ANOTHER COUPON, I WOULD HAVE USED IT, YOU NEANDERTHAL!" The woman screeched, shaking the hand sanitizer on the counter. "I HAVE BEEN COMING TO THIS WALGREENS IF ALMOST 18 YEARS, AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I HAVE EVER HAD SOMEONE SO STUPID, THEY CAN'T READ A GOD DAMN COUPON RIGHT!" The young girl's shoulders were shaking, face bright with embarrassment. Her eyes looked glassy, and her lips trembled. Keith had enough.

He made his way from his spot in line, grabbing the shoulder of the deranged woman.

"Hey, you are causing a scene. Clearly, your coupon has expired, and it's your own fault for not reading it. You should not take it out on this girl, who is just doing her job." The lady turned to face him, taking her attention off the cashier, who quickly grabbed the phone beside her register.

"Excuse you, who do you think you are? This is a private conversation-"

"That you are screaming for the whole world to hear? Ma'am, forgive me, but is it possible that-"

"No, I don't think I will forgive you. Because you," she jabs a sharpened acrylic nail to his chest. "And this dumbass cashier clearly did not graduate school, to not know when you are not needed, or to read a fucking coupon correctly." Keith sneaks a peek around the woman, watching the cashier talk into the receiver of the phone.

"And on top of that, what the hell is with that dropout, crack addict haircut. Clearly, you are using something, and I am honestly shocked that you haven't tried to steal the medicine you are holding," Keith flinched back, staring in awe at the woman in front of him. His anger grew at a steady pace, whispering for him to tell her who he is, to punch her, to do something to shut this woman up.

Luckily, the door behind the counter opened, showing a security guard. He stepped around the counter and walked up to the woman and Keith.

"It seems that there is an issue here. Ma'am, I'm afraid that I will have to escort you out of the building. You were reported harassing a worker and this gentleman here." The man's drawl was thick, grabbing her shoulder and turning her in the direction of the door.

She screeched, words of harassment and suing following her out. The people in line behind her cheered and clapped, the little kids blowing raspberries. Keith moved to go to the back of the line, when the old man stopped him, gesturing to the front. Keith thanked him and sat his father's medicine on the counter.

"Thank you." The young cashier said, quickly scanning the items, and putting them in a sack. Keith nodded and paid the fees.

Keith was almost at the door when a tap at his back startled him. He turned around, and then down, to see the starry eyes of a little boy.

"You're one of those Voltron people, right? You pilot the big lions, and save everyone, right?" Keith chuckled and nodded, putting a finger to his lips. The boy gasped, hugging him, and ran back to his mother. She turned around, oblivious to her child running off.

Keith sighed, looking at Shiro's car, and started to make his way to it. At least he could tell a story now.

See, I knew this one was going to be late, but I still didn't try to finish it on time. But, to make up for it, Keith laying down a Karen. That's about it, so see you next time.

Blue