Keith stared at the clock across the room, willing it to tick faster.
He wondered what Shiro was up to right now. Wondered if the time was passing by just as slowly for Shiro as it was for him. If Shiro was cursing whoever invented 'team bonding' as much as he was.
Keith knew that being a senior Cadet in the Garrison would suck—after all, Shiro wasn't going to be there, he was going to be in Kerberos—but he wasn't expecting it to start sucking this quickly. The end of winter break had brought with it a mandatory bonding and networking week between all of the current juniors, none of whom Keith knew (or particularly wanted to know).
All he wanted was to spend as much time as he could with Shiro before the man left.
If the time wouldn't go any faster, then the least Keith wanted was to find a quiet corner for himself; so, of course, that wasn't possible.
The sounds of teenagers messing around in the gym carried all the way down the hall and into the classroom where Keith was sitting. In a huff, Keith got up, stomping over to slam the door closed when he heard it: A sharp noise that sounded like a mix between a scream and a sob.
Keith was almost tempted to ignore it, but his too-sensitive hearing recognized the voice.
It was Thomas, one of the new freshman students. Normally, he wouldn't have been allowed anywhere at the outing, but his parents both worked at the Garrison, so they often just brought him wherever they were. Keith wasn't particularly close with him, but he knew that Thomas was adopted, having lost his own parents at a young age, so Keith couldn't help but be a little more tuned in to the boy than he was with most other people.
With a heavy sigh, Keith made his way to the gym, already regretting that he'd gotten out of bed that morning.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Keith shouted, voice echoing through the gym.
"See, Tommy? I told you Kogane would show up if you just screamed a little louder," Griffin said, kicking the door behind him harshly and eliciting a cry from within.
Keith groaned internally. He'd done exactly what Griffin wanted, but it was too late to fix it now.
"Give me the key," Keith seethed, walking toward Griffin and his cronies.
"I hate to break it to you, but Shiro's not here, so you're not hot stuff anymore," Griffin said, dangling the keys in front of Keith's face.
Keith clenched his jaw, tracking the movement of the keys. "Step. Off. Griffin," Keith said, snatching the key from Griffin.
"Chill, Keith, I was gonna let him out," Griffin said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
Keith rolled his eyes, opening the door to reveal a long storage closet.
"Thomas? It's Keith," he called, walking slowly inside. Evidently, there was no light (or at least not one that could be turned on from the inside), but that didn't bother Keith the way it would for most other people. Eventually Thomas' small frame came into view, tackling Keith with a hug and causing him to drop the keys.
"Thank you," he said. Keith tried not to recoil too hard, opting to lightly (and awkwardly) pat the kid's head a few times before wedging him off.
"It's alright. Now go find your dad," Keith told him, sending him off. Keith looked back into the dark expanse for a moment, to track down where the key had fallen to. He distracted himself briefly, wondering just how long poor Thomas had been trapped—and flashing back to his own childhood—when he felt his neck hairs bristle. Keith whipped around, but it was too late. He'd dropped his guard and forgotten that this was never about Thomas. Two of Griffin's goons descended upon him, grabbing his arms and legs and easily lifting him up even as Keith struggled against them.
"I told you I would let him go; you're much more fun to mess with anyway," Griffin said, picking the key up off the floor. "By the way, you left your bag in the classroom; but, don't worry, I'll look after it for you."
"Griffin!" Keith managed to shout before he was sent flying, crashing to the floor ungracefully. Keith got back up almost immediately, but it was still too slow as Griffin closed and locked the door. Keith made harsh contact with it, bouncing off slightly from the speed he ran at it with.
As Griffin rummaged through his bag, loudly proclaiming annoying comments for everything he pulled out (typically followed by ripping of loud 'bangs') every fiber of Keith's being wanted to scream at Griffin not to touch his stuff, so put all his effort into breaking the door down, but a voice in his head (which sounded strangely like Shiro) told him not to. Trying to slow his breathing, Keith reminded himself that this was what Griffin wanted. He refused to give him the satisfaction. Even if Griffin ripped up all his text books, even if he had to redo the essay he'd spent all weekend planning for, he wouldn't give in.
Patience yields focus.
Keith was stronger than that. He was better than that. He could endure just about anything if he had to—
"Man, only a weirdo carries around pictures of random dead guys. What the hell are you up to, Kogane?"
Keith's head snapped up. The picture of his father. He'd forgotten about it. Keith clenched his fists. He had to stay calm. If he let Griffin know how much he cared, things would never end well.
"Don't tell me this is his dad?" One of Griffin's cronies asked, clearly following some kind of script.
"No way. They don't look anything alike," the other one droned.
"Well, duh," Griffin chimed in. "Keith takes after his mom after all, and she was even crazier than he is. I'll bet she didn't even know who the dad was—"
"Shut the hell up, Griffin!" Keith exploded, beginning with one punch that left a dent with a door before trying to fully pound it down.
"There he is!" Griffin shouted, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice. "Didn't know you were such a mama's boy, Kogane. I guess you won't be needing this then?"
Keith swore he felt his heart stop. "Don't you dare, Griffin! Don't you dare!"
"And what'll you do if I dare?"
"Griffin, if you rip that picture I swear you'll regret being born," Keith half-said and half-growled. Somehow, through the rush of blood in his ears and over the sounds of cruel
laughter and his own body slamming against the door, Keith managed to hear it.
Rrrrrip.
"Oops… my bad."
Keith threw all his weight at the door once more, feeling as the hinge finally busted, sending him barreling to the ground. From above him, little paper pieces floated down. He didn't care if he looked pathetic, Keith attempted to catch as many as he could, piling them together on the floor. Keith's hands shook above the pieces as his mind registered just how hopeless it was. If Keith hadn't already known who was in the picture, he never would have been able to guess. There was no saving it.
"What did I ever do to you?" Keith found himself asking, curling his fists on the floor. He knew it was pointless, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't just a question he wanted to ask Griffin, it was a question that he wanted to ask the universe.
What did he ever do to deserve this?
"Aren't you supposed to be making me 'regret I was born?'" Griffin asked mockingly. "Right now I only regret that you were, and I'm sure your dad felt the same—"
"I'll rip that tongue from your throat!" Keith was sure that he should have been crying, but instead something almost ancient rose up inside of him as he tackled Griffin to the ground. At his best, Griffin was a match for Keith on a good day.
Today was not a good day for Keith.
Everyone in the room was too stunned to react, watching in shock as Keith pounded into Griffin. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough for Keith to let loose.
"Get him off me!" Griffin cried, motivating his cronies to move. Together, they managed to pull Keith off, but it wasn't long before Keith's limbs collided with some part of their bodies, sending him right back to Griffin.
"You think you're funny, huh? Why don't you try laughing now?!"
"Kogane! Keith Kogane!" A voice boomed through the gym, causing Keith to stop. "What in God's name do you think you're doing!?"
"Commander Iverson!" Griffin all but yelped. "Thank God you're here. Keith went crazy! He's trying to kill me."
Once again, hands grabbed Keith from behind, lifting him just enough to see Griffin more clearly than he had in the moments before. To say that Griffin's appearance backed up his claims was an understatement. His face was nothing short of a bloody mess, to the point where it was difficult to even tell that it was Griffin at all. In fact, it would probably be hard to tell for at least a few weeks—if not a few months.
The sight made Keith sick, adrenaline rushing out of his body.
He did that?
Keith raised his hands into his view (or as much as possible with Iverson restraining him), the sight of his own still-shaking hands covered in Griffin's blood made him afraid. In all these years, he'd never done anything like this. He didn't even know he was capable of such a thing.
Even through the bloody mask, as his friends confirmed his version of events, Griffin's face angled into a sick smile. He'd gotten what he wanted.
Shiro rushed down the Garrison halls, still unable to believe what he'd been told.
When they told him that Keith got into a fight, it wasn't the most surprising news ever. Keith was older and more mature now, but the same people who always used to pick fights with him hadn't matured quite as much, so it was never impossible that Keith could get caught up in another altercation.
No. The surprising thing was that Shiro had been told that the other kid had been beaten until they were nigh unrecognizable while Keith had come out fully unscathed, clearly the aggressor (or at least that's what the secretary who called him had said). That was unusual. Even when Keith did get into fights, he was always on the defensive side, taking as many hits as necessary to avoid hurting someone else. He didn't really believe it, but, if what the secretary said was true, then it meant that something really awful must have happened.
Across the hall, Commander Iverson had left his office window open, and the sight of the man shouting in Keith's face made Shiro's blood pressure rise even though he couldn't hear what was being said. Shiro had never been fond of Iverson at the best of times, but his unapologetic disdain for Keith had made Shiro straight up dislike the man.
"Lieutenant Shirogane, how nice of you to show up and collect you… charge," Iverson sneered as Shiro burst into his office, looking all too pleased with himself.
"Come on, Keith, let's go," Shiro said, choosing to ignore Iverson all together. He grabbed Keith's hand, pulling him toward the door.
"You might want to know that Keith has been recommended to the discipline committee, where they'll likely vote to expel him."
Shiro stopped in his tracks. "You can't do that."
"Oh, can't I?" Iverson asked, walking toward Shiro, who moved Keith so he was hidden behind him. "That kid has caused far too much trouble for our institution. He's not Garrison material, and he never has been."
"You-"
"Shiro, let's just go," Keith said, cutting across Shiro's (no doubt) biting retort. He wanted to stay and argue anyway, but Keith sounded so defeated. With one last angry look, Shiro allowed Keith to guide him out of the office.
"Keith, slow down. Keith. Keith!" Shiro called out to Keith, who had speed-walked his way to being far in front of Shiro. Keith stopped in his tracks, but didn't even look back. "Hey, what happened?"
"Nothing happened," Keith said, still not looking at Shiro.
"Keith, they said you beat James Griffin within a few inches of his life, that sounds like something to me," Shrio began, but Keith cut across him.
"Then I guess you already know everything. Which is good, because I don't want to talk about it."
"Keith, stop!" Shiro called, placing a hand on Keith's shoulder and physically turning him to stop him from going into his dorm room. "I know you'd never do anything like that without a good reason-"
"Oh, yeah? And how exactly would you know that?!" Keith shouted, frame tense. "What makes you think you know anything about me?"
"You mean other than the last six years we've spent together? Gee, I wonder," Shiro said, equally stern and sarcastic. "Keith, what's wrong? This isn't like you."
"You're wrong," Keith said, eyes shining with tears as he pushed off Shiro's hand. "This is exactly who I am."
Before Shiro could even react, Keith slammed the door, dead bolting it behind him before Shiro could input his passcode. Shiro considered knocking on the door, trying to convince Keith to open it, but then he heard him curse in frustration as he clearly hit something hard. He decided it might have been best to just give Keith some space.
"You should have seen him: he slammed the door in my face! He's never done that to me before! I mean, I'm just trying to help him, doesn't he see that? I thought we were doing so well, but, no, all I get is attitude! Can you believe that?!" Shiro rambled, increasingly manic as he paced back and forth in the Holts' dining room.
Across the room, Samuel Holt sat at the table, desperately trying to keep a straight face. "You know what, Takashi? No, I really have no clue what it must be like for you-dealing with a moody teenage boy. No, sir, never done that in my life, not once. I just can't imagine. I mean I really can't-"
"Okay, Sam, I get it," Shiro said, sulking slightly. "But I'm being serious. You should have seen Keith! He's never blown up at me like that. Never."
"Oh, I'm being completely serious," Sam said, though his tone contradicted that. "Matt never gave me this kind of trouble. Now, Kaite might, but we aren't there yet."
With a sigh, Shiro plopped himself down on a chair, running a hand through his hair. He knew what Sam was trying to do, but, at the moment, it really wasn't helping. "I just want to help him."
"Takashi, cut the boy some slack. I seem to remember that your emotions ran pretty hot when you were his age, and your memory should be a lot better than mine," Sam said, a nostalgic smile across his face.
"I wish it were that simple," Shiro said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't wanted to say anything without Keith's permission, but he couldn't just keep everything to himself either. "Sam… They're going to expel him if I can't think of a way to fix this, and I don't even know where to start."
"Oh, dear…" Sam said, face contorting out of its usual jovial state for the first time. "That is a predicament. Tell me everything that happened, from the beginning."
Shiro explained the whole situation, not that there was much that he knew to be able to share anyway. As far as he knew, Keith had left for the week just fine. Slightly apprehensive and excited to get it over with, maybe, but fine. Then he'd gotten a call to go and get Keith from the Garrison. It took some insisting on his part, but Shiro had managed to get some more information. Since then, he'd seen a picture of what Griffin looked like after his fight with Keith, and the very sight had made his breath catch in his throat. Now, it had been nearly a week since he saw Keith and he had no idea how to approach him again. He'd even been ignoring Shiro's messages-just another item on the 'list of things Keith had never done before.'
"I just keep thinking that I must have messed up or missed something, but I don't know what it is. I mean, there has to be something I could have done," Shiro said, fully feeling that that must have been true.
"First things first: Give yourself some grace," Sam said, walking over to Shiro and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just a few years ago you were just another space cadet, and it's hard when your life changes so quickly. I know that's how I felt when Matt was born."
"Yeah, but Keith isn't a baby, and I won't even pretend like I can replace his father," Shiro said.
"Really?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because what you just described sounds like a parent's plight if I've ever heard one. Doing a great job, but doomed never to feel like it. Watching your kids struggle and not being able to save them from the heartache. Sounds like parenting to me. Of course, your case is a little different since you skipped all the nice years where your kids can't talk back-"
"Samuel, stop it!" Colleen playfully demanded as she entered the room, setting down a basket of laundry on her way. "You'll scare the poor kid half to death."
"It's okay, Mrs. Holt," Shiro said, immediately standing to help Colleen fold the laundry. "Sam's not wrong-at least not entirely. I pushed him too hard the last time we saw each other, and now I'm afraid of messing up again."
"When did I say that?" Sam asked, but the conversation had already moved on beyond him.
"I don't want to hurt Keith the way everyone else has; I just wish he would talk to me. He used to."
"Takashi," Colleen said, taking the laundry from Shiro's hands and guiding him to sit. Colleen herself brought herself down to Shiro's eye-level, holding his hands. "Keith is getting older, and that comes with changes for any family; but kids need grace, and that goes double for kids like Keith. Progress is rarely ever linear for them-but, really, whose is? Matt's been moving backwards towards living like a caveman since the day he turned thirteen."
Shiro laughed at that. He would definitely be holding that one over Matt's head for a long time to come.
Colleen reached up to cup Shiro's face. "Sweetheart, you just need to give it time. Go to Keith when you're ready, let him know how much he means to you, and that you're there when he needs you. That's all kids really want from their parents at the end of the day."
"Colleen, I'm not-"
"His father, I know. But families come in all sorts of ways. I mean, we never replaced your parents, but you still made room for us right there in your heart, didn't you? I'm sure Keith is no different," Colleen said, pressing a light kiss to Shiro's head.
"I hate to admit it, but Colleen is right," Sam said, walking over and hugging his wife. "Keith took a big step by coming to the Garrison with you; don't make a mistake because you're underestimating how important you are to that boy.. Just listen to your heart-and to Colleen-and you can't go astray. Meanwhile, I'll see what sort of strings I can pull with the committee. Rest assured there will be a full investigation, and Keith will get the best shot possible so long as I'm around because he's family, too."
Shiro looked in awe at the two Holts, remembering where Matt got his own resilience and kindness from. In some ways, it still felt like yesterday that the Holts had taken him under their wing after he'd left his own family behind. At that time, he hadn't had anything of his own, but he'd received so much love and care since then. They'd made such a difference in his life, and it was a good reminder that Shiro was (hopefully) doing the same for Keith. Shiro got up, embracing the two in a hug.
"Thank you both so much," he said, already formulating a plan to go and talk to Keith.
"Anytime, son," Sam whispered. "Anytime."
"Come on, Keith, you can't ignore me forever," Shiro said, knocking on the door to his dorm and frustratedly staring down at the message he'd sent Keith an hour ago asking to meet. Like every other message he'd sent Keith in the past week, it had gone unread. "Keith, open the door, we need to talk."
"Good morning, Lieutenant Shirogane," a young boy with a messy mop of brown hair said, saluting at Shiro. If his baby face didn't give him away, the boy's sloppy salute screamed of first-year status. Shiro knit his brows in confusion. There was really no reason for a first-year to be hanging around the third-year dorms, and he didn't recognize this one either. "Are you looking for Keith, too?"
"Um… yeah," Shiro said, increasingly skeptical of how this kid knew Keith and why he was looking for him. "Excuse me, but, who are you?"
"Oh, my bad," The kid said, reaching a hand out. "I'm Thomas Allen. I'm new here."
"Right! So you're the Thomas I've heard so much about," Shiro said, pieces connecting in his mind. Commander Allen had been going on nonstop about how excited he was that his son was going to be joining the Garrison. Shiro had been the target of his excited ramblings since the Commander didn't want too many people to know who his son was (and he assumed Shiro could relate to the feeling since he had his own mentee in the Garrison). The kid had already grown and changed so much from the pictures Shiro had seen. "I apologize for not recognizing you sooner. Do you mind if I ask why you're looking for Keith?"
"No worries at all, sir. He got me out of a pinch at the event earlier this week, and I was just hoping to thank him," Thomas said. His otherwise bright smile fell as he looked at the door. "I think I might have put him in a tough spot, so I thought I owed him that much."
That got Shiro's attention. "What happened?"
Thomas pursed his lips, avoiding Shiro's gaze like a guilty child. "Dad-I mean, Commander Allen told me to stay put while he worked, but I sort of didn't and ran into some of the older kids who weren't… 'very nice' to say the least. They kept me in that closet for at least twenty minutes before Keith came and let me out," Thomas said. His tone was strangely jovial, but he shuddered when he finished speaking, as if he was physically shaking off the memory.
Shiro only became more confused after that. If Keith had gotten into a fight while defending someone else, he almost certainly would have told Shiro, so why had he reacted so strongly? Increasingly, Shiro began to get a bad feeling about this whole thing, which only deepened when Thomas' phone alarm went off.
"Oh! Got to go to class," Thomas said, giving Shiro another quick salute before turning to leave. "If you see Keith, will you tell him thanks for me? He hasn't been around all week."
Shiro's heart sank. He controlled himself long enough to wait until Thomas was gone to panic.
"Keith, I'm coming in," Shiro announced, typing Keith's code into the door with one hand and calling the boy's phone again with the other. He almost hoped it wouldn't work, but, alas, it did, and the door opened without resistance. Keith wasn't inside, but his phone was, glowing and vibrating from where it sat on his dresser. Shiro walked over to it and turned it on. He didn't know Keith's password, so he couldn't go through it (though, surely, Matt could have fixed that issue), but what he saw was just as concerning. Every alarm Keith typically set for the week had been missed and the battery was on the verge of running out. If Keith had been impossible to get ahold of, it wasn't because he was ignoring Shiro deliberately. He might not have known Shiro was trying to reach out to him at all.
Barely being careful enough to not pull them out of the dresser entirely, Shiro yanked the drawers open.
Empty.
Keith was missing. Maybe he'd been missing all week.
Empty.
His stuff was gone, which meant he likely wasn't taken.
Empty.
Reminding himself to breathe, Shiro opened the last drawer.
Nestled inside, neatly folded, were Keith's Garrison uniforms.
"Hey, Shiro, my dad was calling you-" Matt stopped mid-sentence. He already sensed something was amiss from the fact that Shiro was rummaging around Keith's room without the boy in sight, but the way he turned slowly-revealing a stack of uniforms that he was nestling to his chest-signaled the serious nature of whatever was happening.
"He's gone," Shiro said, not elaborating further.
"Did they already expel him?!" Matt asked. The head-honchos at the Garrison were always butting heads over one thing or another. There was no way they could come to an agreement this quickly, not even over Keith.
Shiro shook his head, numbly. "He must have left."
"What?! When?" Matt asked, brain immediately shifting into overdrive. There were so many factors to consider. Had Keith turned eighteen yet? How long had he been gone? Where would he have gone?
"He missed all his alarms for the week, so I think we have to assume the worst," Shiro said, and Matt had no trouble believing that the man was already doing that.
"Hey!" Matt said forcefully, grabbing Shiro's shoulders and giving them a slight shake. "We're gonna find him."
What if he doesn't want to be found? Shiro thought, but he kept it to himself. Matt was trying to hold him up, he thought he owned him that much. "Okay," he said instead. "You start looking around the Garrison, I'll head into town and see if anyone's seen him."
"Keith? Keith!" Shiro called, already feeling his throat start to fail him. He and Matt had been searching the city for the better part of four hours already, but nothing had shaken out thus far. Keith didn't have anyone other than Shiro, so there weren't many who could attest to noticing that he'd disappeared for a week, nor think of any place where he might have gone. Shiro had tried to fill that gap as much as he could, but even he could only think of one place where Keith might have gone: His father's grave. That was how Shiro found himself walking through the old cemetery, scanning the ground for the one marked 'Kogane' and hoping that Keith would be nearby.
"No…" Shiro whispered to himself as he finally stumbled upon one-half of what he was looking for. Keith's father's grave was there, but Keith wasn't. Instead, the only things that lay there were a bouquet of flowers and a single photo. Unlike what Shiro expected, it wasn't a picture of Keith and his father, but one of Keith and him. In fact, Shiro recognized it as the picture he gave Keith of the two of them for the boy's sixteenth birthday.
Shiro had to stop himself from dropping the picture as his phone suddenly rang. There was really no way, but his shoulders still dropped a little when he saw that the call was from Matt.
"Anything?" Matt asked, though not very hopeful.
"No, but I found an old picture of us at his father's grave, and I don't think it's a good sign. He definitely ran away," Shiro said, looking down between the picture and the grave. Like the rest of the few possessions he could call his own, Keith had always defended the picture jealously, keeping it on his person at all times and rarely letting even Shiro remove it from its hiding place to look at it. Keith wouldn't have left that behind for no reason, and he certainly wouldn't have left it outside, especially not when there had been so much rain on the forecast for the past week.
Matt said something else on the other end, but Shiro didn't hear it.
The rain. It had rained last night, but only the flowers were wet. The picture was still as dry as the day Shiro had printed it.
"Shiro? Hello?" Matt called. "Did something happen?"
"The picture is dry. Matt, he was here," Shiro said, probably sounding as mad as he felt anxious. There was still a chance. If Keith had stuck around for most of the week, then maybe he didn't have any intentions of leaving the city at all. Maybe… maybe he could still be found. The question was where?
"Well, there is more good news, then. Dad talked to Commander Allen, Thomas gave the full story and he's going to vouch for Keith at the hearing. If half of what the Commander said was true, there's no way they can expel Keith now," Matt said. The words should have been comforting, but the implication was clear. That didn't mean anything if Keith wasn't actually here.
"That's good, tell Sam and the Commander I'll thank them in person when I get the chance," Shiro said. "I have to go, Matt. I need to double check everywhere again. Keith has to be somewhere in the city-"
"Takashi, wait!" Sam Holt's voice cut across him.
"Sam?"
"I still regret that I wasn't closer with Keith's father, but everyone at the Garrison knew that he had a knack for disappearing in the desert for days at a time," Sam said. "I didn't remember until now, and it might be a long shot all things considered, but if Keith is anything like his father-"
"Then he might be out there, too," Shiro finished for Sam. One look at the sky told him it was far closer to setting than to when it had risen that morning.
"How are we supposed to find him in the middle of the desert at this hour?" Matt asked his father.
"Not we, me," Shiro said, feeling resolve cement itself within him. "I need you and Sam to stay here in case he comes back, and to keep handling his case. I'll never convince Keith to come back if he thinks he's been expelled from the Garrison," Shiro added, already anticipating their protests.
"Takakshi, the desert out here is no joke, especially at night," Sam said.
"At least I won't have to deal with the heat," Shiro half-joked. "Besides, Keith is worth it."
He looked down at the grave, bending over to lay the picture atop it once more. He wondered what Keith's father would have done if he were alive. What he would have told Keith in a moment like this.
"All right, then. But you come back, too, you hear?"
"I promise," Shiro said.
He made a quick stop at the Garrison to pick up a hoverbike, but not even that seemed to move fast enough to outrun the setting sun as Shiro sped through the desert. He'd spent some time out here himself, testing out new high-speed equipment and honing his skills (nevermind the times he'd come out here to race with Keith), but he never ventured too deeply into the area. Certainly not enough to know where someone like Keith or his father would spend their time. Looking out at the vast expanse of sand that seemed to blend further together by the moment, Shiro couldn't help but doubt Sam slightly. Maybe Keith's father could spend hours out here exploring or riding a bike of his own, but Keith had been gone all week and there weren't exactly any convenient or comfortable places to lay one's head down out here.
By the second, it seemed increasingly likely that Shiro would never manage to find Keith. He couldn't even seem to pinpoint the exact route he'd taken to get as far as he had. Every possible path looked the same, and there weren't a lot of unique landmarks to help him find his way either. Even if there were, Shiro doubted he would have been able to find them now that the sun had long since set. Everywhere was pitch black, and Shiro only had the relatively small light of the hoverbike to see by. Keith could have been walking right next to him and he wouldn't even have known it.
"Come on, Keith… where are you?" Shiro whispered to himself, straining his eyes to scan through the area, not that it gave him much guidance. Against his own wishes, a thought zoomed across Shiro's mind: Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Keith had managed to leave the city in the short span of time that had passed since he visited his father's grave.
Shiro gripped the handles of the bike a little harder, pressing the pedal to go forward again; only, nothing happened. "No," Shiro said, pressing it a few more times before looking at the screen of information. It was dead. Shiro felt his heart sink. If there was an infinitesimal chance of him finding Keith before, there was now an equal chance of him getting out of the desert at all. To accompany his poor fortunes, a new thought crossed Shiro's mind: What if he had been right? What if Sam had been right? Keith didn't even have a hoverbike, and there was no reason to assume he had anywhere to take shelter from the sweltering heat or the occasional sandstorms. If he'd been out here all day, if not the better part of the week…
The image of Keith lying motionless on the ground forced itself forward, making Shiro physically recoil. He'd only known Keith for five years at this point, a relatively short amount in the grand span of time, but imaging life without him was overwhelmingly painful. This couldn't be how things ended between them. Not after everything they'd been through together. Shiro still wasn't fully sure what had happened to cause this, but he was sure of one thing: He didn't want to live without Keith. Whatever it was, whatever was going through Keith's mind that caused him to act this way, he was sure they could figure everything out if only he could find Keith. If only he was okay.
Come this way, Shiro heard a voice speak in his mind, clear as day though no one was around. It was feminine, matronly in a way that reminded Shiro of Colleen. Shiro scanned the area once more, this time his eyes fell firmly to the east. There was nothing in that direction as far as he could see (just like everywhere else), but it felt strangely likely something was calling out to him from there. As if he was meant to go that way. Shiro looked back at the hoverbike. Without any power, it would only slow him down, but leaving it (with its GPS capability) could prove risky if he ventured too far.
Trust yourself, he heard the voice again. Now that it sounded again, however, Shiro realized that it wasn't so much a voice he could hear as a feeling in his heart. Like he was guiding himself toward the right answer. With a breath, Shiro let go of the hoverbike, beginning his trek down the path he seemed to be led toward.
With no real sense of time or how far he had gone, Shiro relied on pure feeling to find his way, focusing on Keith all the while to keep himself going. Eventually, he spotted a light in the distance, moving quickly toward it until it revealed itself to be a porchlight emanating from an old, slightly run-down looking house. Shiro was immediately confused. He had had to tread absurdly far into the desert to get here, so for what reason would anyone have to have a house out here?
Putting caution aside-but not good decorum-Shiro approached the house and knocked on the door, looking around while he waited. On the porch, there was an old, beat-up, dust and sand covered rocking chair that Shiro didn't think anyone should be sitting in now. Laid on top of it was a small baby-blue onesie accompanied by a matching colored pacifier, which only made Shiro more confused. Where exactly was he?
"I'd tell you I was gonna come back… but we both know that isn't true."
Shiro whipped around like a guilty criminal caught in the act, heart all but stopping at the sound. Shiro had imagined his reunion with Keith a million times in the (relatively) brief amount of time he'd spent looking for the boy. Some versions were happier than others, but almost all of them involved Shiro running over to Keith and demanding to know what the hell he thought he was doing running away. To make sense of what on God's green Earth could possibly compel him to think this was a good idea. All that died when he saw Keith.
His whole body was trembling lightly, but his face was almost completely blank-like he was in a trance-which matched the equally emotionless tone with which he'd spoken. For some reason that Shiro was definitely going to ask about later, he was carrying a purple blade that seemed to glow even in the decreasing darkness. His eyes were slightly puffy and red, a sure sign that he'd been crying. Altogether, Keith cut quite the picture as Shiro surged forward, grabbing Keith by his shoulders and looking him over.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" Shiro asked, suddenly thinking of the time when he and Matt had fallen asleep while studying in the library. They had planned to meet Sam for lunch, but they'd stayed up late the night before and slept through their meeting time. Sam had shown up to the library, openly frantic and berating them though they'd only been 'missing' for an hour at most. Shiro wondered if Sam had felt even a fraction like this back then. He would have to remember to apologize to Sam for that when he got back.
"What are you doing here?" Keith asked, pushing away from Shiro in the first act of emotion or movement he'd shown. His frame was almost the same as before, but now there was a hint of confusion mixed in. Unlike so many times before, Keith looked Shiro straight in the eyes, searching for the answer to his question. Whether it was that Keith was only now realizing that Shiro was there, like he thought he'd only imagined the man earlier, or a confusion about why Shiro would be there at all, he really didn't seem to know. Shiro felt his chest tighten.
"'What am I doing—' are you serious right now?" Shiro asked, voice incredulous as he gripped Keith's shoulders a little tighter. He didn't want to admit it, but part of him was worried Keith would run if he didn't. "I'm here because you ran away without a second thought. Because you didn't even bother to tell me where you were going or for how long. Did you really think I was going to do anything but chase you to the ends of the Earth if that's what it took to find you?"
Keith maintained eye-contact with Shiro, but his hands thumbed the purple stone embedded in the hilt of the blade at his side. "No else ever has."
"You've done this before?" Shiro asked. Now Keith looked away, seeming to come to his senses a little more with every passing moment. "When… Keith, why?"
"It's my MO," Keith said, gripping his blade a little tighter, nails white from the amount of pressure he was applying to it. "I guess it runs in the family."
In all the time Shiro had known him, Keith never talked about his mother. Even now, he didn't call her by name, but he didn't have to for Shiro to understand. Keith smiled then, but it lacked mirth, instead being full of sadness and self-loathing.
Shiro looked at the blade, wondering what the connection must have been.
"Apparently, it's my mom's," Keith said, turning the blade in his hands. Glinting in the early sunlight, it looked worryingly sharp, but somehow Keith handled like an expert, like the thought that it might cut him had never even occurred to him. "Dad said she left it behind for me, that it was proof that she loved me… I know it's total crap, but for some reason…." Keith trailed off for a moment, taking a few shaky breaths. "I went down to the cliffs to get rid of it, but I couldn't. Just looking at it makes me angry, but I promised him I'd hold on to it. It was the last I ever said to him."
"Keith, what happened-"
Keith cut across Shiro, shaking the man's grip off with surprising strength.
"Griffin was right: I'm just like her. I carry this stupid knife, and I run away, and I hurt people. I hate her, but I'm just like her," Keith said, taking steps backward away from Shiro as he spoke. His body was tense, poised to dart at any moment, frame shaking. "So you should leave, before I hurt you, too."
Keith's breath hitched as he squeezed his own arms tightly around himself, knife still in hand, but Shiro wouldn't let him go so easily moving toward Keith and taking far bigger strides than the still shorter than average kid.
"Keith, look at me. Look at me!" Shiro didn't like how Keith flinched at the sound, but he didn't feel he had much of a choice either. He had always tried to be gentle, to approach Keith with caution for fear that he'd only push him away, but treating Keith like he was fragile, too fragile for Shiro to get too close, might have only made him feel more isolated. "You're not gonna hurt me, and you never have to run away from me. But, even if you do, I will always come to get you. No matter how far, no matter what happens, I won't ever abandon you, Keith."
Shiro couldn't take away his pain, couldn't force him to see himself differently, but he could tell Keith just how important he was. At this point, there was no denying it. Keith might not have seen Shiro as a father, but he was the closest thing Shiro had to a son-maybe the closest thing he would ever have-and Shiro would gladly give up everything just for Keith. "Were you really not going to come back? Did you really think I could live without you? Keith, I love you too much to let that happen!"
Keith's head snapped up as he paused in place, narrowly avoiding tripping over a big rock and allowing Shiro to close the gap between them once more. Shiro hovered in front of Keith, waiting for Keith to react or say anything before he acted. As the initial shock passed, tears made their way slowly down Keith's face.
"I know it was stupid," Keith said. "I know it was stupid, and the second I left, I wanted to come back; but, I was embarrassed. I've never had anywhere worth going back to, so I didn't know how. That's just pathetic, right?" He asked, waterlogged eyes meeting Shiro's again. "I'm just… pathetic."
"No, Keith, you aren't. You're hurting and you're angry-and that's okay-but you don't have to carry this alone," Shiro said, moving toward Keith and reaching a hand out to wipe his tears. "You aren't your mom, Keith. I don't know her, but I know that just by being here, you're already choosing differently. It's your life, and I'll always be here to help you. Who cares what Griffin thinks?" Slowly, Shiro pulled Keith into his arms once more. When he heard the sound of the knife clattering to the ground, he held a little tighter and breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm sorry, Shiro… I'm so sorry…" Keith whispered between sobs, clutching onto Shiro as strongly as he had to the knife that now lay on the ground.
"So, you want to tell me where we even are?" Shiro asked, breaking the silence he and Keith had been sitting in. Keith was sitting in a huddle of blankets next to him, allowing Shiro to keep one comforting arm around his shoulders as he hunched over a cup of tea. For how run down the house had looked on the outside, it was actually well put together on the inside, complete with clean running water, electricity, heating and air conditioning, and it was fully stocked with furniture, dishes, and-evidently-various kinds of tea. Thankfully, it even had a decent signal, allowing Shiro to send word that Keith had been found.
"Isn't it obvious?" Keith asked back, a slightly sad smile creeping across his face as nostalgia coated his tone."It's home."
For some reason, that took Shiro by surprise. "You mean, this is where you grew up?"
"Yeah, you can tell that dad built it with his own hands, right?" Keith said. Shiro thought it must have been a joke, but Keith's tone was still so heavy, so Shiro blanched instead, never intending to insult Keith's father. If Keith noticed, he didn't draw attention to it as he continued to speak. "It was just the two of us here until I was five and we moved to the city. Then, after I ran away from the orphanage, it was just me for a year or two."
Shiro balked at the thought. "You lived out here on your own for years? And no one found you?"
Shiro had a hell of a time finding this place, but he'd only been searching for a day. How was it possible that no one found Keith in three years?
"Turns out it's a lot easier to hide if no one is looking for you, Shiro" Keith said, more of that bitter humor coming out.
"And I'm not sorry about it either," Shiro said, attempting to lighten the mood by adding his own humor into the mix. At the same time, he squeezed Keith in a little closer, hoping it would communicate what he really wanted to say: that's never going to happen again. "If you don't mind me asking, what made you decide to leave and go back to the city?"
"I don't know. Just got bored, I guess. And maybe a little lonely. It just felt like it was time," Keith said. Shiro didn't like the way that sounded, but he couldn't help but be a little grateful, too. If Keith had stayed out here, the two of them never would have met. "I know it's a lot to ask, but could you keep this place a secret? I don't want anyone else to know it's out here."
"Of course," Shiro said immediately. He felt bad about lying to Sam and Colleen after everything they'd done, but he knew it was important that Keith knew he was trustworthy. More than that, he could feel how important this place was to Keith. Just being inside the house seemed to ground him in a way that Shiro had seen few things do. "Not that I think anyone could find it any way. I'm still not sure how you manage it with a map."
"I don't have a map," Keith said, looking at Shiro sideways.
"Then how do you—"
"I just know," Keith said, cutting across Shiro.
Shiro must have had a really funny look on his face because Keith finally laughed for real, and Shiro felt his heart melt.
"It's nice to hear that again," Shiro said without meaning to. He hadn't wanted to interrupt the moment, but it just slipped out. He was hit again by just how afraid he'd been that he wouldn't see Keith again, wouldn't ever hear him laugh like that. Keith stared at Shiro for a moment, face contorting in shame before he looked away at the floor. Shiro made to apologize, but Keith cut across him once more.
"I only had one picture of my dad," Keith said, voice shaking, and Shiro already hated where this was going. The word 'had' rang in his head. "I only had one… but Griffin found it in my bag at the outing and he… he ripped it up. That's why I punched him and why I came here."
Shiro felt his heart drop. Why did it always have to be Keith? He never went out of his way to hurt any one or flaunt his skills, never went out of his way to pick a fight (though he certainly wasn't known to back down from one). It was naive to think that bringing Keith to the Garrison would have solved all his problems, but Shiro at least hoped he could have protected Keith from this kind of harassment.
Reaching over, Shiro removed the now cold cup from Keith's hands, taking them into his own instead. "Keith, why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want to admit it was gone, that he was gone, and there's really no one left who…" Keith trailed, choking up slightly before shaking his head to free his mind from the cage of thoughts. "He died when I was eight, but somehow… it just felt different. I know it's dumb, but—"
"It's not dumb," Shiro said, gently guiding Keith's head to look in his direction. "It's not dumb. It doesn't matter how much time passes, you're allowed to feel sad. I'm just sorry if you felt like you couldn't talk to me about it."
Once again, Keith simply stared at Shiro, clear violet eyes searching, like there was something he wanted to say but just couldn't.
"Shiro, what you said earlier—about me… did you really mean it?"
Keith's voice was thin and small, but it carried so much weight and insecurity.
"With all my heart, Keith. I only wish I'd said it sooner," Shiro said.
Keith stared at him a moment longer before standing suddenly. "Come with me."
Silently, Shiro followed Keith up the stairs to the second floor of the house. Keith paused for a moment in front of the small trapped-door like barrier before opening it and walking through.
As soon as he entered the room, Shiro was struck dumb. Even without any pictures on the furniture or other memorabilia, it was clear just from the way Keith was acting that this had been his father's room. It wasn't particularly well decorated, with mostly plain fixtures (even the bedding was just a simple gray color), but it somehow still felt so full of life. Keith placed the purple knife he'd had before—Shiro hadn't even noticed he'd re-collected it—in one of the drawers of the dresser that stood across from the bed that took up most of the space in the room. He sheathed it and wrapped it tightly in a shirt before tucking it away gently.
With the knife tucked away, Keith disappeared into what Shiro assumed was a closet before returning with his arms behind his back. Even without the use of his hands, he fidgeted nervously on the spot.
"We had just moved to an apartment in the city, so I lost most of dad's stuff when he died, but I managed to save this," Keith said. "I was waiting to grow into it, but it doesn't look like that's gonna happen anytime soon," Keith said with a hint of humor.
Keith extended his arms out in front of himself and passed what he'd been holding onto to Shiro. Shiro unfolded the lump of fabric delicately, already feeling that it was far too important for him to be entrusted with. It was a black, sleeveless zip-up vest with orange accents on the collar and silver accents at the edge of where the sleeves would have been. On the inside of the color, there was a name delicately embroidered in purple stitching:
'Texas Kogane.'
"I know it's not much, but I think he'd want you to have it."
"Keith, I can't accept this," Shiro said. "I'm not—I can't pretend to replace—"
"Trust me, Shiro, no one can. But I want you to have it, too, so please, just take it."
There was a desperation in Keith's voice that gave Shiro pause, and he remembered what Sam had said. He knew that he was important to Keith, but he never imagined it could go this far. Shiro stared down at the garment in his hands. It was so much more than just an article of clothing. It was the last thing Keith had left of his father, and he had chosen to give it to Shiro. He'd made it clear that he didn't see Shiro as replacing his father, but… that didn't mean he couldn't see Shiro as one—if he didn't already. Shiro was already all-in for Keith. He was fully prepared to spend the rest of his life caring for him if needed, but the idea still made him feel strange. Clearly, he'd failed to protect Keith so many times already, so he wasn't sure he deserved that; but, then… Keith had come back to him.
If it was difficult for Shiro to admit his feelings to Keith, he couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Keith himself. He couldn't tell Shiro that he loved him, but he could make it known. He brought Shiro into what was easily the most sacred space he could lay claim to and presented him with the only reminder of the only other person he'd ever loved.
"I'd be honored to take it, Keith," Shiro said, smile creeping across his face. Still, he couldn't let a good opportunity pass him by. "On one condition: promise me you won't ever run away again."
"I'll try," Keith said. Shiro raised a stern eyebrow at him, making Keith smirk. "I promise, Shiro."
True to his word, Shiro stood slowly, moving into the closet to put the garment on.
"So, wait, am I getting expelled?" Keith asked.
"No, Sam and Matt took care of that-with some help from Thomas," Shiro called back.
"Aw, you brought the Holts into this?" Keith groaned with embarrassment.
"You wanna try that again?" Shiro asked pointedly. He somehow managed not to be surprised in the slightest when the vest fit perfectly.
"Gee, Shiro, I'm so grateful you cared about me enough to bring the Holts into this," Keith said in his best deadpan voice.
"That's better. Now, how do I look?" Shiro asked Keith, feeling slightly awkward as he stepped into Keith's view. Keith didn't say anything, but when Shiro looked over at him, he had tears pooling in his eyes. It became clear to Shiro that the boy wasn't really looking at him anymore.
In a rare move, Keith surged forward, almost knocking Shiro back. Shiro thought of the pale blue items that had gone untouched on the porch, of the well-worn rocking chair they had been laid on top of. Every part of the house was coated in the love that Texas had for his son, including the clothes Shiro now called his own.
Silently, Shiro made a promise that he would take care of Keith the way Texas would have: like a son.