Thread by @_zzs_top

#sheith angst, keith!whump, h/c

•••

There are too many things the war has taken from Shiro but worst of all is how much time he's lost with Keith. Some days it feels insurmountable. It's like he blinks and Keith is older, again and there's a scar on his face.

Keith tells him, just once, that the clone was responsible but Shiro can't even remember that. He doesn't even get to know how much he's hurt Keith despite all that he's done to get back.

It's hard. Indescribably hard.

But not so hard as watching all the things the war has taken from Keith as well.

It's secondhand knowledge unfortunately, little clues Shiro has to pick up because Keith never complains. He's gotten so used to the world not looking in his direction unless it needs something

that he hardly broadcasts his own needs at all. If there's pain, he hides it; if there's fear, he tucks it away. The only reason Shiro notices at all is because one day he's just too tired to cover it up.

One day Shiro blinks and Keith flinches.

It's an unfortunate overlap of abrasive sounds, no one thing on purpose resulting in a devastating conclusion. A glass shattering. A too loud laugh. A car horn outside.

And Keith flinches.

Hand on his belt, hackles raised, joyous relaxation gone.

This isn't supposed to happen.

They're at a birthday outing for Hunk and this isn't supposed to happen. It's supposed to be easy. It's supposed to be fun. And yet,

Keith flinches.

No one else notices. Keith isn't very subtle but people's attentions are elsewhere meaning Shiro - whose attention is always

on Keith - is the only one who sees it happen. He's also the only one to see it go away.

Keith flexes his hand and releases his knife. He forces his arms down and 'relaxes' his shoulders. He breaths out and puts a smile on his face so that when Hunk turns back towards

him while telling a joke there's not anything there for immediate concern. But Shiro saw it.

Continues to see it.

Because Keith's no longer having fun.

He laughs when the rest of the group does, drinks shakily from his beer. He smiles, and sits still and resembles the easy going party guest he was a moment ago. But it's tight. The smile looks like it hurts and when people aren't directly addressing him it falls entirely.

He looks at his phone, rubs his chest, keeps taking deep breaths that don't seem to help at all.

Eventually he stands. "Have to-" he says when Pidge and Lance look his way, jerking his thumb to the bathrooms. It's expected, normal, so they don't look concerned by his

departure. But Shiro is, especially as he watches his hands tighten at his sides, as he watches him go not to the bathrooms but out the back door to the alley behind.

Shiro, trying not to draw too much attention to himself, follows.

Keith's in a crouch when Shiro steps out the back door. He's perched on the balls of his feet, his forearms resting on his thighs and his head hanging low, hair curtained around his face. He looks exhausted, tense, like the air escapes him if he's standing tall.

When he hears Shiro step out he drags a hand through his hair to pull it away from his face then startles when he recognizes the other. "Shiro-" he stands upright, body rigid all over again. "I-"

"Hey, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt I just-"

"No! No it's cool." Keith interrupts, wiping his hands down the front of his pants and giving Shiro a chagrined smile. Shiro hates it. "I just needed a little fresh air. Bars, yanno?" He asks, like this is normal.

"Keith-"

"Are they looking for me? Hunk probably wants to do

another round. We should head back." And he starts to walk forward, past Shiro to the door.

Shiro grabs his upper arm to stop him, fingers firm but gentle. "Keith, stop." He says it in a voice he knows Keith responds to, one he used to use when Keith was just a struggling cadet.

And as ordered, Keith stops. He stops so succinctly, Shiro thinks he's frozen in place. Not a part of him moves, not a tremble or a gasp, and except for the rapid heartbeat Shiro can see pulsing in his neck, one would think he was a statue.

"Keith," Shiro tries again, loosening his grip and sliding his hand down his arm to instead cradle his wrist. His fingers move over Keith's clenched fist and thumb over his knuckles, careful, unsure. "Talk to me."

Keith sucks in a breath like it pains him and under Shiro's fingers his hand tightens even more. He tenses again, this time with resolve, and slowly removes his hand from under Shiro's. "I'm fine Shiro." He murmurs, with a smile Shiro can almost believe. "Just startled."

When Shiro opens his mouth to disagree, Keith pats his chest and smiles more. "Thanks for coming to get me." He says, buttoning up the conversation and leaving no room for argument. They're done talking about this. "See ya back in there."

There's an eruption of noise as Keith yanks open the back door but he leaves before Shiro can stop him. He's never been so thoroughly shut down by Keith like this, so entirely pushed away. It's staggering, hurtful.

But it sparks something in Shiro, wakes something up.

Once upon a time, this never would have happened. Once upon a time Keith never would have pushed him out.

Shiro needs to figure out what changed and he needs to fix it. Because he never wants Keith to hide from him again.

---

Most of the time they're okay. Most of the time the war doesn't rear its ugly head and remind them that it owns a million little pieces of their souls. Most of the time they're, truly, fine.

Which is how he got into this mess, Shiro thinks. It's easy to ignore the small

grievances when ion blasting aliens are your alternative. And not even just his own, but everyone else's. The night with Keith was like the first time he opened his eyes in months, the first time he truly looked around and saw what was happening around him.

He feels like an idiot. But more than that, he feels like a bad friend. Someone else might say he was being unkind to himself, carrying that responsibility, but friendship /comes/ with a certain level of responsibility and he doesn't think he's done a very good job honoring that.

Especially with Keith.

There are conversations he's willfully avoided, truths he's turned away from. Not because he doesn't think they're important, but because he hasn't been sure he could handle it.

But his fear has resulted in this: Keith, fighting his demons alone.

Shiro tries to make up lost ground in the weeks that follow. He checks in with the other paladins, sees how they're doing - not as their leader but as their friend. He helps Lance pick out colors for their nursery and tests new recipes for Hunk. He plants trees with Pidge and

organizes a surprise party with Allura. He feels connection again and it's good, it's healing. It helps him build up the strength to have the harder conversations, the ones he's afraid of.

He's helping Matt clean his old hoverbike when he finally asks,

"Tell me about Naxzela."

Matt goes suspiciously still and won't look at Shiro, which doesn't bode well for the course of the conversation. "If you can." He adds, gentler, because the war took things from Matt as well.

"What do you want to know?" Theres a forced casualty to Matt's voice which belies the

very visible tension now sitting on his shoulders.

Shiro pauses, assesses. Matt feels nervous and Shiro doesn't know if it's because he doesn't want to talk about it or doesn't want to tell Shiro about it. Probably the later since there's really no doubt about why Shiro might

be asking. But though Shiro is after something, he doesn't want to find it at the expense of his friend.

So he takes a deep breath, sets down his tools and goes to sit by Matt. "I want to know what happened with Keith." He gentles his voice, but doesn't cloak his honesty.

That's what got him into this mess to begin with. He's been dishonest with himself and dishonest with his friends and if he keeps ignoring the truth of what's happened, Keith will keep drifting farther and farther away. "We were having trouble getting off the planet..."

Matt looks up at him and he looks frustrated.

"Keith would do anything for you. You know that right?"

Shiro swallows and nods, dread filling his chest.

"Anything, Shiro."

And then Shiro learns the truth.

He has to sit down, partway through. It's not that his knees give out but it's a near thing. Suddenly he's upright and then he's not.

Matt still won't look at him, as if telling the story of that terrible dogfight is hard enough without having to see Shiro's despair. He just

keeps working on his ship, hands busy, expression grim. "At the last second, Lotor swept in and shot the shield down so, you know... Worked out in the end I guess." He rubs his cheek with the back of his hand and Shiro only misses the tremble of it because he's

busy trying to keep himself together.

"Was there..." Shiro's mouth opens and closes as he grasps for words. "Was there no other way?"

Matt finally looks at him and then away, his expression pained. "I don't know, maybe? Honestly, Shiro, I really don't like talking about it."

"You were always a good fighter Matt." Shiro replies automatically, like that's some sort of compliment, like being good at it makes up for all the blood on your hands.

"I was a good rebel, not a good fighter." With effort Matt pushes himself up and moves over to sit next to Shiro. His next exhale is a heavy one, his hands lifting to drag through his hair. "We aren't soldiers, Shiro, we're explorers. I know we learned those other things to

survive but that was never what we signed up for. It's not what ANY of us wanted to be doing. You and Keith included."

Shiro scrubs his metal hand over his mouth and then looks down at it, reminded of exactly what he never signed up for.

"Listen," Matt continues, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on them. "What you and Keith have? It's kind of terrifying. Your codependency is off the fucking charts and it's hard for me to understand how you can ever love each other without hurting the other."

Shiro looks at Matt, terrified by the truth in what he's saying and the fact that he's laying it out so succinctly.

"But that means that it's time the two of you start fucking trying. You both have already tried dying for each other. Now it's time to live."

Shiro covers his eyes because it's hard to hear, hard to have someone else telling him the things he's just coming around to himself. Matt, for his part, just rests against Shiro's shoulder, offering unspoken support in the best way he can right now.

"Do you think he knows?" Shiro asks, when he can speak again. His eyes are wet but Matt doesn't comment.

"That you love him? I don't know. I don't know him super well but I've always gotten the impression that he needs to be told those kinds of things outloud."

He nudges Shiro's shoulder again. "To be honest, I wasn't even sure you knew."

Shiro sighs, scrubbing the last of the wetness from his eyes. "I'm not sure I did. Like you said, what we have isn't... normal. And he hasn't said anything so I didn't know and. Yeah. I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure what?"

"That he's never said anything before?"

And Shiro stops short.

"Matt?" He asks, voice quiet, eyes wide.

But Matt just holds up his hands and shakes his head. "I'm not saying that he said anything to me-"

"Matt!"

"But Romelle mentioned something in passing and I just-"

"Matt!!" Shiro grabs Matt's shoulders and shakes him a little.

"I just think you need to talk to him!" Matt laughs. "Out loud! With your words!"

Shiro stops shaking him but doesn't let him go. He's been struck silent by Matt's revelation. How much has he missed?

What doesn't he remember?

Matt claps his hands on Shiro's shoulders in a facsimile of Shiro's position and stares right into his eyes. "Takashi Shirogane, you big dumb beautiful jock. It's time to use your brain." And then he lays a big smacking kiss on Shiros lips. "And never ask me about Naxzela again."

Shiro's cheeks color but there's a smile blooming on his face. "Thanks Matt. I won't." He promises gently and gets to his feet.

He helps Matt up and then pulls him in for a hug. Just before he pulls away, though, he murmurs. "And Matt? You were always a good explorer too."

And if Matt holds onto the hug for a while longer, Shiro doesn't complain.

---

It's loud, Shiro thinks to himself, as he's been thinking to himself all evening. It's loud and he's tired.

The thing about winning a war is that there are always parties. You celebrate anything when you almost lost everything and so there are parties for

even the smallest events. First steps, healed wounds. New homes, new pets, new relationships. Hell, you make things up if you have to just to have an excuse to meet up and be happy.

Tonight they're celebrating Pidge's soccer team almost making it to the local tournament.

They lost, but only by a point which is reason enough to get together, eat good food, and be merry.

Except it's loud and Shiro is tired.

Which means...

Shiro's eyes cast around the large group and land on Keith. There are close to a hundred people here, with each player from the team and their family scattered about on the pitch for a large summer picnic. That would be noisy enough but everyone wants a piece of their time,

wants a story from the defenders of the universe. Pidge doesn't broadcast her involvement but she doesn't really have to - the news does that for them. And while everyone is being polite and respectful, there are only so many fun stories you can tell before you start

thinking about the bad ones. And if Shiro is tired then Keith definitely is.

Shiro recognizes the fatigue immediately. Keith is sitting with Lance and Lance is animatedly recounting the story of acquiring Kaltenecker. Lance is loud by default but all the people sitting

around him keep interrupting with questions and the pitch of the conversation keeps rising. At the same time, the guy next to Keith keeps trying to talk to him (and why is he sitting so damn close) which means Keith is trying to balance answering questions and listening to Lance.

Even from here, Shiro can tell it's not going well.

He's tense, shoulders stiff. He's in a relaxed position, sitting cross legged with the group but his hands keep flexing in his lap and his eyes can't seem to settle on any one person. Shiro watches as he asks the guy to repeat

his question for the third time and even then he can't seem to process it and the guy seems annoyed and Keith seems stressed and well, that's enough of that.

Shiro is up and moving before he realizes what he's doing.

"Hey Keith?" Shiro asks, crouching down next to the man in question and interrupting whatever the stranger was trying to ask. "Can you give me a hand with something in the truck?"

He sets a warm palm between Keith's shoulder blades and doesn't miss the way Keith becomes ever so slightly relaxed. It solidifies Shiro's conviction, assures him that the signals he's reading are right.

"Yeah, sure." Keith says, polite but relieved. He gives the other guy a

smile and a noncommittal 'be right back' and then takes Shiro's offered hand and pulls himself up.

As they step away from the crowds and make their way towards where everyone is parked, Keith throws Shiro an inquisitive look. "What did you need help with?"

"Nothing, I just needed to get away for a moment." Shiro admits, the honesty uncomfortable. It's not something he's used to, not something he normally does but he's realized with no small amount of regret that Keith learned his bad habits from Shiro himself so if

he wants Keith to be open with him, he has to start being open with Keith. The little things are supposed to be easier but even this makes Shiro's gut churn a little. But the surprise, and then the shared smile from Keith makes the discomfort worth it. "Honestly? Same."

Keith's smile falls quickly, though, as they duck around behind Shiro's truck and out of the view line of the picnic. He looks frayed, tired, and Shiro wishes he could have recognized it sooner.

But they're all learning still, growing.

"I could tell." Shiro says quietly, bumping his shoulder with Keith. He gives him a supportive smile then unlatches the tailgate of his truck and lets it drop. Keith gives him another quizzical look then laughs when Shiro hoists himself up on it and pats the spot next to him.

Keith follows without question and Shiro tries not to feel pride at that. Instead he says "You know? I feel like I used to be better at that."

"At what?" Keith asks, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the dusk sky.

"Being around people."

Keith snorts but the humor dies when he looks over to Shiro, who is looking at his hands. Shiro's instinct is to smile, to crack a bad joke, so instead he turns and gives Keith an honest expression. He has to do the opposite of what he would normally do and right now that

means being vulnerable. That means letting his shoulders sag a little, letting his eyes close, body slump.

Keith is almost startled by it, but he's still gentle when he sets his hand on Shiro's shoulder and shakes his head. "Shiro, you're great with people. Everyone loves you."

Now Shiro snorts, shaking his head and laying back in the bed of his truck. "Would you believe me if I said being charming was the easy part?"

Keith laughs the tiny laugh that only they share, their inside joke laugh. "Shiro, remember who you're talking to."

"Okay, would you believe me if I said being charming was the easy part FOR ME?" He corrects, reaching up and tugging the back of Keith's shirt.

Keith rolls his eyes but then levers himself back so he's laying side by side with Shiro.

Shiro continues. "I've always known how to be charming, how to say the right thing, smile the right way, hide the stuff no one wants to see. When you're sick so much for so long, you try to make yourself as un-gross as possible so people will still treat you with dignity

and that includes a chipper attitude and a big smile." Keith turns to rest on his side, head leaning on his fist. "Must have been hard." He murmurs and it doesn't sound like pity, not from him. It sounds like he understands.

So Shiro nods and maybe angles himself a little so he's closer to Keith, looking up at him. "I guess I'm used to making myself palatable for others, but it's really tiring now. It probably was before but I guess it just feels different now."

He sighs and rubs his eyes. "Like, if one more person asks me all the cool things my arm can do, I think I'll scream."

Keith makes a face, like he's on the cusp of being angry. He makes it a lot when he wants to get upset on Shiro's behalf. But instead of getting riled up,

he just reaches out a hand and moves Shiro's hair off his forehead, shifting it back into place. "It's the noise for me." He murmurs, putting more of Shiro's bangs into place - to keep his hands busy, probably, but Shiro won't complain. "Everyone is always talking now. At me,

around me, with me, about me. And it's annoying, sure, it's always been annoying, but now it feels like..." He huffs in frustration, gently scraping his nails over Shiro's undercut to smooth it down as well. "It literally feels like I'm being stabbed with needles. Like I

go from fine to wanting to rip my hair out in less than a few minutes. I- I feel so bad too,"

"Like you're getting upset for nothing." Shiro says with a nod, closing his eyes as Keith's fingers continue working over his hair.

"Yes! Like, fuck, I don't know. I want to

spend time with everyone, talk with them, be with them. But sometimes I hit a point where I just," he sighs, hand lifting away from Shiro's hair to press to his eyes. "Sometimes I get so uncomfortable and overwhelmed that I feel like I shouldn't have even gone out at all."

Shiro watches Keith hide behind his hand and his own gut is telling him to soothe Keith, to reassure him that what he's feeling isn't true. But Shiro knows firsthand how useless that kind of placating messaging is so instead he reaches up, takes Keith's hand away from his face,

and puts it back in his hair.

It's such an unexpected gesture that Keith's face morphs from pain to exasperated fondness which is exactly what Shiro was hoping for. "I think..." Shiro starts, shifting again to get even closer until he's nearly under Keith's face. "I think we're

allowed some grace in this area. Like, we brought aliens to earth and made giant sentient space ships and piloted lions that would morph into a fucking gundam and died and saw the astral plane and came back and so yeah, maybe we should be allowed to be a bit particular

now. Maybe we are allowed to go home early, or be weird at parties, or not always smile-"

"Or sneak away to hide in the bed of your truck?" Keith adds, stroking his fingers through Shiro's hair now for the hell of it.

Shiro grins. "Or sneak away to hide in the bed of my truck."

With a heavy sigh, Keith nods. His fingers continue to scritch through Shiro's hair as he looks away in thought but then he shuffles and lays himself down so his head is pillowed on Shiro's arm and they're both looking up at the pink-purple sky. Shiro doesn't say anything,

doesn't want to spook away the moment, so he just moves and adjusts himself to accommodate Keith against his side.

As the sun finally starts to dip below the horizon, Keith holds his hand up so his fingers are splayed across the watercolor clouds above them.

"Shiro?"

"Mhmm?" Shiro asks, raising his hand to mimic Keith's position.

"Will you take me home?"

Shiro smiles. "Of course, Keith."

And between their fingers, the stars arrive.

---