Two weeks later, the Garrison hosted a special break week, where all the cadets could go home and see their families, to take a breather from the hard, rugged, Garrison life.

Keith and Shiro, having no family to go to, decided to spend most of that time getting to know each other.

After all, Keith had pointed out, in the worst possible way, that they hardly knew each other. So Shiro resolved to change that.

They had been racing bikes when the inevitable danger arose. Shiro in the lead, as always.

Keith saw it before Shiro did, his heart clenching and collapsing into his stomach.

No, NO!

Keith sped his bike past Shiro, not wasting time to find the path that led off of the cliff. Instead, he rode straight off the face of the cliff, pulling up right before he missed the ground and speeding off.

"Ha." Shiro chuckled under his breath. "Keith got it right." He followed Keith closely off the cliff, smiling to himself. And then…he saw it, too.

Spiraling towards the sky, bending and curving. Smoke. Lots of it.

Keith and Shiro both turned their bikes onto the highest setting, racing for the house.

Keith parked his bike, not even bothering to pull out the keys, five-hundred yards from the fire breaking into a run.

Shiro was right behind him, easing his own bike further from the flames.

The thing that was on fire was Keith's childhood house. Luckily not Veronica's safe house, but still bad. All of Keith's things that weren't aloud in the Garrison were in there.

Keith stared up at it with horror, fingers curling as he stared at it. The tree right outside his house was already in ashes, the shed very close to being completely demolished. The bottom of the house was on fire, but even now Shiro could see flames beginning to alight the second story.

"Keith," Shiro sighed, pity for the young boy washing over him. "I'm sorry- Keith?!" Shiro jumped, realizing the absence beside him. "Keith?!"

When he saw the boy, relief overtook him. But not for long.

Keith was hosing himself down, drenching himself with water from the hose next to the house.

"Keith, what are you doing?" Shiro shouted, taking a few steps towards Keith.

"Stay there!" Was all he explanation Keith gave.

Shiro watched, stunned, as Keith dashed into the house. When he recovered from his initial shock five seconds later, panic seized him, and he dashed forward three steps, but a huge wall of flames engulfed the entrance. The heat was so intense, it forced Shiro to stumble back, falling onto his back on the rough ground.

"No, no!" Shiro wailed, dragging himself to his feet, sweat alright glistening on his forehead. "Keith! Keith, get out of there!"

Shiro didn't know if Keith heard, or responded, because he didn't hear the boy's familiar voice telling him it was all right, or answering at all.

"Keith!" Shiro shouted, watching the glass shatter from the heat, the house smoking and beginning to cave in.

Shiro wondered if he should call 911. He doubted it. The house was too far gone, and if Keith hadn't already come out, Shiro doubted he could. The roof was beginning to collapse.

After five more minutes of breathless silence, Shiro gave up. He took several steps back, gazing at the caved-in house, several boards peeling off of the house every minute.

Keith couldn't have survived that long. His fur would probably have made him get more easily warmed, instead of helping him.

Shiro took a step back, trembling as he gazed at the smoldering wreckage. Keith was…he was…

Suddenly, a window on the second story broke open, and Keith came out, barely managing to leap over the sill. He held something cradled in one arm, something black.

He collided with the ground HARD, his legs giving out upon impact, his body slumping to the ground. He groaned, letting off a slight twitch, then relaxed, his face buried in the dirt.

Shiro instantly snapped to attention, rushing the boy quickly, scooping him up.

Keith twitched in pain, but didn't do much else.

Shiro nearly gagged.

Keith's forehead was smeared with blood and sweat, his arm twisted at an odd angle. Shiro backed Keith away from the flames, using his own jacket to wipe away the blood, revealing a huge gash, which quickly filled with blood again.

Shiro swore. It was probably the first time he had sworn in his life, and it was definitely the last.

Keith stirred slightly, moaning before collapsing into unconsciousness again.

Shiro scooped him up, bridal style, Keith's head lolling back on his arm, as if his neck suddenly had no control over his head.

Shiro ran, climbing onto the nearest speeder; (Keith's speeder) and put Keith on his lap, wrapping his arms on either side of the boy as he piloted the speeder as quickly as possible to the Garrison.

"Please." Shiro prayed. "Please let Keith be okay, God. Please. Please. Please."

The wind whipped Keith's hair and the boy whimpered slightly, trembling slightly from the raw pain of it.

"Please." Shiro begged once more. "Please."

It seemed like an eternity until the Garrison appeared, it's tall towers coming into view.

Luckily for Shiro, the hanger doors were open so that he didn't have to stop and wait.

He cradled Keith close to his chest, realizing with a start that the boy still hadn't released whatever he had holding when he had jumped from the firey building. Shiro took it from Keith's arms, shoving it into his saddle bag.

He'd put it in Keith's room later.

He sped through the halls, dodging around the few cadets and officers who hadn't went home for the weekend.

"Walk!" He heard from Professor Mongomery's room when he sped past.

He arrived at the emergency room, the doors buzzing open agonizingly slowly.

When they opened completely, he charged in, hardly noticing the lack of patients and how bored the woman sitting at the front desk looked.

She sat up the minute he came charging through, staring at him in shock. "Oh my."

"Please." Shiro pleaded, holding Keith closely. "My friend got hurt."

"His arm alone looks awful." The woman gapped, staring at him. "Did he get hurt anywhere else?"

"Here." Shiro brushed aside Keith's hair, which covered the wound.

"Paging Dr. Rizavi." The woman pressed her finger against the intercom, pursing her lips. "…yeah, we got a lieutenant here. He's got a kid with a broken arm and a…um…huge gash on his head. …Room 6-18? Got it…" she eased her hand off of the com buttons, pulling off her headphones.

She rolled a stretcher out of a corner and pointed to one of the chairs.

"Put the kid on this and then sit down." She instructed, and Shiro wisely didn't argue, watching as she rolled his friend away.

Obviously I have no idea how a hospital works.