[ keith looks down but shiro doesn’t look away, though it his chest panging something awful to see keith broken down and hiding. yes, he’s hiding. trying at least. he did that a lot in the beginning: staring out the classroom window, sitting apart from the simulator group, stealing his jeep, ducking his head down outside of disciplinary waiting to be sent away. what about that year out on his own too? point is, keith had – has? – a nasty habit of disconnecting or running away when the overwhelming and disappointing aspects of reality close in. looking back on it now, shiro’s surprised keith didn’t try to pull this stunt immediately following his punishment.
god dammit. shiro feels like a shitty friend. he should’ve checked in more often. should’ve really talked keith through what happened. through everything that happened. and at the job fair? the first time he saw one of those bots, he should’ve gone looking for keith, instead of fiddling time away in bullshit classes and walking a fucking catwalk. he just… tends to think of keith as resilient. the boy makes it through everything, no matter what, because he’s strong and smart and stubborn and exactly the kind of person shiro can depend on to be there when he needs him to be.
is shiro that person for keith though? where’s shiro when keith needs him? always a few minutes late of hitting the necessary cue.
frowning through his self-flagellation, shiro steps back into keith’s space and grips his other shoulder, holding him by both. ]
We’re gonna get out of here. [ he’s certain of that, at least. ] I’ll have access to restricted areas soon. I’ll find something we can use.
[ he ducks his head down, trying to catch keith’s attention and get him to look up. ]
You just have to hang in there a little longer, okay? Nothing’s gonna harm you like that again. I’ll always come get you, no matter what.
[ he did both times, right? late, he reminds himself. still, he did come. there’s some comfort in that, isn’t there? his tablet answers that for him. it’s not a chime. it’s that other sound, the one that signals something being checked off. he straightens up, expression turning puzzled as he shoulder checks the knapsack secured to his back, as if that’ll reveal an answer. the only thing it could be is…
ah, right. he knows. that doesn’t settle his thoughts though. now he’s thinking of sentence sheets and obvious ways to get out of here. there's a moment of hesitation and then a tentative: ]
But if it’s really too much… [ he looks back to keith and slowly releases his hold of him. ]
no subject
god dammit. shiro feels like a shitty friend. he should’ve checked in more often. should’ve really talked keith through what happened. through everything that happened. and at the job fair? the first time he saw one of those bots, he should’ve gone looking for keith, instead of fiddling time away in bullshit classes and walking a fucking catwalk. he just… tends to think of keith as resilient. the boy makes it through everything, no matter what, because he’s strong and smart and stubborn and exactly the kind of person shiro can depend on to be there when he needs him to be.
is shiro that person for keith though? where’s shiro when keith needs him? always a few minutes late of hitting the necessary cue.
frowning through his self-flagellation, shiro steps back into keith’s space and grips his other shoulder, holding him by both. ]
We’re gonna get out of here. [ he’s certain of that, at least. ] I’ll have access to restricted areas soon. I’ll find something we can use.
[ he ducks his head down, trying to catch keith’s attention and get him to look up. ]
You just have to hang in there a little longer, okay? Nothing’s gonna harm you like that again. I’ll always come get you, no matter what.
[ he did both times, right? late, he reminds himself. still, he did come. there’s some comfort in that, isn’t there? his tablet answers that for him. it’s not a chime. it’s that other sound, the one that signals something being checked off. he straightens up, expression turning puzzled as he shoulder checks the knapsack secured to his back, as if that’ll reveal an answer. the only thing it could be is…
ah, right. he knows. that doesn’t settle his thoughts though. now he’s thinking of sentence sheets and obvious ways to get out of here. there's a moment of hesitation and then a tentative: ]
But if it’s really too much… [ he looks back to keith and slowly releases his hold of him. ]
How much of your sentence do you have left?