Timeline notes: Sequel to Burning Bright and Shining Strong. READ THOSE FIRST! A Keith and Shiro backstory so takes place before current timeline of VLD. But haaaaa, my headcanon is practically canon now. Mwahahaha.

Warning notes: Referenced child abuse

xxx

Stand Together Now, Carry On

One

"That's the last of it."

Keith blinked heavy eyes, tracking the words to the social worker, Aimee, where she was sitting at the conference table with Shiro and the older man who had introduced himself as Dr. Holt and was a commander at the Garrison. They had been going over paperwork for nearly the last hour and Aimee had encouraged Keith, after getting his signature on a few forms, to lie down and close his eyes. He'd looked to Shiro and received an encouraging nod as well.

He hadn't slept the entire night previous and although he felt jittery still, like if he closed his eyes when he woke up he'd find all of this had been a dream and he was actually en route back to the group home. But Shiro had taken off his own jacket for Keith to use as a pillow and sat next to him as he'd curled up on a few of the conference room chairs pressed together.

Keith still couldn't explain just how safe he felt with Shiro there. He hadn't quite fallen asleep but he'd drifted into a light doze to the sound of Shiro's rumbling voice and Aimee's clear and earnest tones and the more cultured but still kind voice of the commander.

"Keith, buddy," a gentle hand descended on his arm and Keith prided himself on not jumping out of surprise and if he inhaled more than a little sharply no one called him on it. His eyes had apparently closed between noticing them all at the conference table and he dimly wondered if he'd drifted off again in those few moments.

Shiro was crouched next to him, eyes soft. "It's time for us to go," he smiled and Keith felt his lips pull up to mirror it before a yawn broke through. Shiro chuckled. "If you want to keep sleeping I can carry you to the—"

Keith was on his feet before he even realized he was moving, face darkening. Oh no. Shiro did not need to carry him. That was… that was so embarrassing.

Although he had spent over ten minutes sobbing into Shiro's shoulder before the commander had arrived, relief and exhaustion and disbelief finding an outlet in his tears. His cheeks grew even darker at the memory.

"I think given young Keith's state the car would be a better option," Dr. Holt came over. He sent a genial smile to Keith. "How about you ride with me?"

And the offer made complete sense. Keith didn't think he was capable – between his aching ribs that were hurting more than they had that morning and his exhaustion – of holding onto Shiro for that long of a ride and he didn't need to start this new life – and his breath caught, just thinking about how he, a foster kid, was getting this kind of chance – by splatting onto the pavement.

But…

But he didn't know Dr. Holt. He knew Shiro trusted him and the he owed the commander so much because without him none of this would be possible, but…

But he didn't want to leave Shiro.

And that was stupid and he was being a baby and how pathetic was he? and—

"Actually," Shiro cut into his building panic with a sparkle to his eyes, "I have a better idea."

xxx

"Wahooooooooo!"

The shout of joy was muffled behind the thick glass of the car window but that didn't stop Keith from watching, wide-eyed, as the man he had taken to be the professor sort pulled a wheelie on Vanessa and tore past them.

He looked over to Shiro who was driving the very, very expensive car and chuckling below his breath.

"Dr. Holt used to be a formula one race car driver," he explained. "It's actually how he was recruited by the Galaxy Garrison to be a part of their vehicle program. They found out he's an absolute genius and the rest is sort of history. He's the most decorated commander the Garrison has ever had." The awe in Shiro's voice was clear and Keith faintly wondered just how Shiro knew someone of such importance.

"He doesn't get out on the road much anymore," Shiro continued, easing the larger car into a stop at stoplight, the motorcycle already several lights ahead. "This is the least I could do for all he's done for me."

At that Keith lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the apology nearly swallowed up by the soft strains of the air conditioner, but Shiro heard anyway.

"Hey," charcoal eyes cut over to the slumped figure in the passenger seat. "What's this all about?"

Keith just gave a minute shake of his head and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the dashboard, shoulders hunched and Shiro doubted it was entirely from the pain.

Shiro frowned and once the light turned green he accelerated and then pulled off onto a quiet side street and turned the flashers on. Keith did not look up.

"Keith, what's wrong?" he asked gently. "Do… do you not want to go to the Garrison?"

He doubted that was it. He'd seen the way Keith's eyes had lit up, hope and relief palpable, when he'd first put forth the idea and he had expressed no qualms when signing the paperwork that would make him a temporary ward of the Garrison until testing in February, when he'd then become a permanent one should he pass. But he wasn't sure what else would have turned Keith back into that quiet huddle. Maybe he was just tired and hurting? Could be, but then why the apology?

Keith looked up at that, purple eyes wide. "No! N-no, that's not it, I…"

Shiro waited patiently, just as he had on the park bench all those weeks ago.

A few moments later Keith rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and spoke. "I… I didn't mean to cause Dr. Holt any trouble. Or you."

"You're not causing anyone any trouble," Shiro assured. "Promise. We're here because we want to be Keith. Just like the big brother program." He reached a hand over and carefully laid it on Keith's shoulder, mindful of the bruises he knew lie beneath the jacket. "Okay?"

Keith gave a small nod but still looked upset.

Shiro waited again.

"I… I could have ridden with Dr. Holt," Keith whispered. "I was stupid and—"

"You're not stupid," Shiro cut in and his voice was sharper than he intended based on Keith's slight wince but he couldn't let this go. He had just spent the last several hours hearing from both Keith and Aimee via his file about all the things Keith had been through and the way his foster families would put him down with such insults. He wouldn't stand to hear Keith say that about himself. This was worse than the "nothing special" comment he'd made because this was a direct insult to him. No. Not on Shiro's watch. "You're the farthest thing from it."

Pink highlighted Keith's cheeks but he kept his eyes trained in his lap now. "I still could have. And then you could have gone on Vanessa." Because Keith knew how much Shiro loved driving his motorcycle and how much he didn't get to do it. He'd prevented him from doing that.

"I can ride Vanessa some other time," Shiro said. "What I can't do is see your face when we pull into the Garrison if you're behind me on the bike, now can I?" Keith's cheeks grew darker and Shiro chuckled. "There's nothing like it, truly," he said, going to move the car back into traffic. "The Garrison… it's not just a school, Keith. It's the future. And," he smiled warmly, meeting Keith's eyes, "yours is just about to begin."

Keith could feel tears trying to make themselves known and he brought a hand up to rub at his eyes before he started crying for the second time that morning.

"And besides," Shiro's voice was light and he tapped the console, "we have air conditioning in the car. As much as I love Vanessa she is lacking in that and it's going to be a scorcher today." Keith's lips tugged into a smile and Shiro grinned back. "And we've got the radio. Go ahead, pick a station. We've still got about a half hour to go."

Keith really had no preference when it came to music, but he hit a few buttons until it came to rest on an oldies rock n' roll station and Shiro let out a soft "yes," next to him. It made Keith smile again and he settled in for the rest of the ride.

xxx

Keith had seen pictures of the Garrison. Hundreds of them. None of them could have prepared him for what it felt like to go through the large gated entryway, after Shiro had handed over his ID to a gate attendant earlier up the driveway, and enter the hub of the Garrison Galaxy.

It was huge. Buildings upon buildings stretched as far as he could see, runways and sidewalks and smaller green areas to break it all up. There weren't very many people though and Keith made a remark on that, to which Shiro explained that this section of the Garrison was the student portion and the real hub of activity on weekends was the other side of campus where actual officers and command staff and researchers were situated. He'd smiled wide at Keith's awe and said this was why he'd commandeered the car and Keith had felt the last of his guilt for the driving arrangements vanish.

"Dr. Holt actually parks over there but I have no idea which spot is his," Shiro admitted, guiding the car into a visitor spot. "We'll get it all sorted later. For now we're heading to the medical bay."

Keith jerked his head up at that. "What?"

"Your ribs aren't broken but you do need something more than a few ice packs," Shiro informed him, and behind the kind eyes there lurked something sharper, darker. Keith swallowed thickly.

He knew Shiro was right. His face hurt, his ribs hurt, even his arms and shoulders hurt and there was an ache in his head that he'd been doing his best to ignore and seeing a medical professional would be in his best interest But… he didn't like doctors.

It had started when they'd drawn blood for a medical profile when he first entered the foster system and they'd accused him of tampering (somehow, at seven-years-old) with the results as his blood had not been… normal. Keith didn't know why. They'd only had his dad's medical history to pull from and any attempts to ask about his mom were met with "I don't knows" because Keith had never met her and while his dad had told stories those certainly didn't include her genealogy. He wasn't sure what had ever become of it but he'd been passed through and that had started this new life of hell.

It had never improved. There had been the one doctor who looked away when Keith had been belted so badly he'd lost feeling in one arm, merely prescribing an over the counter and "rest" to his drunkard of a foster father. Another had put his broken leg back together without any sort of pain killers or anesthesia when he'd fallen out of a tree and his foster family had refused to pay for anything extra.

When he got sick, a rarity, his families never took him and at the group home he was just moved to the "quarantine" room where at least he wasn't bothered for a couple nights and given the cheap medicine that was on hand. The only doctors who had been anywhere remotely kind were the school nurses when he'd ended up in their rooms, but even their smiles had become thin lines when he kept coming back.

Keith avoided them as much as he could after that.

But there would be no getting out of this. And… he glanced over his shoulder at Shiro, who was in the process of getting out of the car and Keith hurried to do the same, at least Shiro would be with him. And the doctors at the Garrison had no reason to dislike him or withhold treatment, right?

"After that we'll head up to the residence hall," Shiro said, retrieving Keith's duffel from the backseat and shouldering it, giving Keith a look of "really?" when he went to reach for it and Keith lowered his hand with a slight wince as his ribs protested the movement. "You'll be bunking with me till February but my room is pretty big. And," he smirked, "you're pretty small."

Keith glowered and wondered if it would be too childish to stick his tongue out, but then Shiro was ruffling his hair and without meaning to he was leaning into the touch.

"Come on," Shiro's hand moved to the small of his back, guiding him forward without any actual pressure. "It's not too far."

It was a good thing Shiro was steering. Keith was lost practically a minute in as they took multiple turns and every hall was the same white and metal combination just with different doors. "This is the main student building," Shiro explained as they went. "The first floor is all administration though plus the medical bay. Second floor is where the cafeteria is and the lounges and study rooms are and then third through tenth floor are residence halls. It's an assortment of years and concentrations per floor to encourage intermingling. Just because you're a senior doesn't mean your future team can't contain juniors and they try to build that sense of community."

Shiro paused his tour to open a set of doors with his keycard and once they were through picked right up. "Floors are separated male to female though and there's strict rules about going onto the wrong floor. Curfew is pretty tight too." Shiro caught Keith's eyes then. "I want you to remember this next part very, very carefully. The Garrison is a school but it's also a military institution. They are very strict on procedures and rules." His expression softened. "I'm not saying this to scare you as I know you aren't going to cause any trouble. I just want to prepare you for the environment; it's not the colleges you might see in television or movies. Okay?"

"Okay," Keith echoed quietly. He had no intention to get into trouble at all. And he figured it should be easy enough. There weren't any bullies here, no foster parents looking for a quick buck. Just older students and teachers and staff. He remembered his warning to himself on the first day of the big brother program – that the students here had power and power did not always make people nice – but he'd seen how kind the ones were at the program. He had Shiro now. And he was not going to mess this up.

"Good boy," Shiro ruffled his hair again and Keith didn't even try to shake off the hand. A few hallways later and Shiro was knocking on a door that looked the same as any other before opening it and gesturing Keith inside.

It looked like a typical school nurse's office; a scrub-clad nurse behind the counter and a few chairs and end tables with magazines set up for those waiting. The woman sent a wide smile to them both and stood up. "You must be Keith. I'm Helen. Commander Holt called ahead and I have a room all prepped for you."

Helen gestured a hand to the low swinging door of the counter for Keith.

Keith felt his stomach turn over. He… he didn't want to see the doctor. Cold hands, cold stethoscopes, questions he couldn't or didn't want to answer… If Shiro was there he—

He broke the thought off. He was not a child. He needed to stop acting like one. It was fine. He was going to be fine. And Shiro would be right here, in the waiting room. Nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing.

He wrenched open the door with perhaps a bit more force than necessary as it slammed against counter with a bang that had Helen jumping although Shiro remained unperturbed and gave Keith a comforting smile as he settled himself in one of the hard plastic chairs. "I'll be right here," he promised, heaving out a silent sigh of relief as he saw the tension knotting Keith's shoulders ease ever so and he gave a nod back and stepped through the opening. He knew Keith was in good hands but he'd seen Keith's aversion to the idea of hospitals and doctors that morning and that this was going to be hard on him. But Keith was proud and Shiro knew this morning had already dealt several blows to that pride. He needed to do this. He knew he could.

Keith however was not so sure this had been a good idea. Shiro had been lost to sight as Helen led him down a hallway that branched into exam rooms but stopped him at a nurse's station, where another nurse and doctor were sitting and going over what looked like lab results. Neither paid him any mind. It's not that Helen had done anything to set him ill at ease, but the set up reminded him of both memories of doctor's offices for himself and of the winding hospital corridors that he'd had to travel to see his dad before he'd… before he'd…

"All right, let's get a height and weight on you," Helen said, pointing out the scale and jolting Keith out of the memory of his father, always so big and strong, lying weak and lifeless on the narrow hospital bed. "Shoes off, please."

Keith hurried to do so, placing them neatly against the wall and going to stand under the measurement tool. Helen shot him another warm smile that he could not find it in him to return but it did make him feel a little better.

"Stand up as tall as you can, shoulders back," she instructed. "But if it hurts stop there, all right?" So she knew about his injuries already then. She had said the commander had called already so it made sense. He still went as high as he could go and Helen hummed as she moved the marker. "Sixty-one point two inches," she mused. "On to the scale please."

Keith ducked out from under the height stick and onto the platform, a pair of shoe markings showing where his feet should go, although his were dwarfed in them. This wasn't a kid's doctor's office after all; it serviced Garrison personnel which were all older students and adults. A beep echoed and the scale read back the numbers of ninety-one point four pounds.

"Quite a bit under for your age range," Helen mused, flipping through several charts on her file and a furrow to her brow. Keith winced but she gave him another smile although it was slightly more strained than before. "Not to worry though, you're a growing boy. You'll tack on those numbers like that," she snapped her fingers. "That's all I've got on my end so come along in here and I'll fetch the doctor."

Keith gingerly perched himself on the edge of the paper-covered table, socked feet too short to reach the step below, and so he pressed them flush against the table as best he could. His neck was prickling and his stomach was twisting as he waited, arms wrapped about his stomach although it made his ribs and shoulders ache.

A quick knock sounded on the doorframe and a woman entered, clothed in dark magenta scrubs with a lab coat thrown over it, black hair pulled back in a braid and a white smile shining against her dark skin. "Hello, Keith," she greeted, extending a hand. "I'm Dr. Bailey."

Keith tentatively took the offered hand and she gave it a shake.

"Commander Holt provided some details that you may have bruised ribs," she said, settling herself on a swivel stool to where Keith was looking down at her. It was an odd feeling. "As well as some other bruises and minor lacerations. Would you be all right if I took a quick peek?"

After a moment of hesitation Keith nodded. It was nothing he hadn't already shown Aimee and Shiro that morning. Dr. Bailey remained sitting as Keith unzipped his jacket, folding it in half, and then shrugged out of his shirt, wincing. It hurt more than it had earlier.

Dr. Bailey's smile had gone when he looked back up, her eyes fixed on the clearly visible fingerprint marks on his shoulders. He hunched over further.

"I'll give you fair warning, I've been told my hands are cold," she said, and there was a teasing lilt back in her face. "Can you sit up straight for me? I'll be quick."

Keith let out a low gasp as the doctor's hands descended on his sides. Her hands were freezing. She chuckled at his reaction and murmured an apology. Her touch was both firmer and more gentle than Shiro's as she prodded around his rib cage and sides. She pulled out her stethoscope and had him inhale and exhale for her several times, asking if he felt any pain at certain points or if she pushed down.

Her hands had gone then to his face, tipping it back slightly and fingers ghosting over the bruise taking up his left cheek. He'd held himself as still as possible then. She'd taken his temperature, nodding at the result, and had him track a light with his eyes, nodding again.

"Shirogane's prognosis was correct in nothing is broken," she said, settling back on the stool and gesturing that Keith could put his shirt back on. He did so quickly, hiding the abuse from view. "I'm going to prescribe you paracetamol for the pain but time is going to be your best healer, as well as ice every couple hours for twenty minute increments – make sure it is not direct skin contact." Her face was pinched at that and Keith wondered how many times that bit of advice had gone unheeded.

"For the next… two nights, at least, I'd like you to sleep in a more upright position if you can manage it to put less strain on your ribs," she continued, scrawling notes as she spoke. "No excessive activity or heavy lifting. No constricting clothing either; what you have on now is perfect. If anything worsens or you feel like the pain is not decreasing you have Shirogane bring you right back here. Understand?"

Keith blinked. That was it? It was over? That hadn't been bad at all. He realized she was waiting for a response and he flushed bobbing his head. "Yes, Doctor," he murmured.

"Good. Now, lollipop?" she asked, procuring one from her pocket. Keith stared. Did she really think him that much of a kid? She laughed, no doubt noticing the indignation on his face. "No one is too old for a lollipop," she said, unwrapping it and popping it in her mouth. She pulled another one out (how many did she have in there?) and held it out again.

Keith took it that time – cherry, he thought – and uttered a soft thanks and mustered up a smile that was brightly returned.

"Lots of rest for you today as well," she instructed as they walked down the hall together after Keith had pulled his shoes back on. "You have a low-grade fever that's no doubt due to exhaustion. Some good sleep should take care of that. And Keith?"

She paused, turning to face him. "If anything should happen and Shirogane is not available you come right here and we'll handle it, all right? Not that anything will," she amended quickly, "but we are here if you need us."

Keith wasn't sure what to say. He'd gotten so, so used to adults at all levels pushing him away, pawning him off to the next person to "deal" with him that it seemed like he'd entered some alternative universe. Shiro, Aimee, and now Dr. Bailey and Helen and the other medical staff? They all wanted to help him? And they meant it?

A lump was forming in his throat and he swallowed thickly, almost inhaling his candy, and nodded, afraid if he spoke it'd come out a croak. Dr. Bailey seemed to understand – and where had these people been the last seven years of his life? – and merely started walking again.

They entered into the front desk area where Shiro was sitting although he launched to his feet like a rocket upon seeing them. Keith shouldn't have been surprised but he still was when Shiro didn't look to the adult to explain what had happened but met his gaze straight on. "How'd it go?"

"Okay," Keith said quietly, meaning it. Shiro gave a nod.

"Good." He looked then to the doctor, feeling his ears pinken at the fond look she was giving him. "Um, uh, any instructions?"

"Rest and ice," she said, handing over the notes, "Keith can provide you details. Here," she procured a small white bottle from a nurse coming up from behind her, "are some pain relievers. Three times a day at meal times until the bottle is empty. And this," she reached into her pocket and pulled out another lollipop, "is for you."

Shiro grinned widely and took it, noting the smirk the doctor aimed at Keith and his own tentative smile back. Good. It's not that he wanted Keith to become a frequent flyer at the medical bay but having other adults to be able to rely on was a big deal. He mouthed a "thank you" over Keith's head to the doctor and her eyes crinkled with her smile.

"All right buddy, we're off to the room then. Lots of rest, doctor's orders."

Keith was fine with that. He did want to see the rest of the campus but now that the worst part (and it really hadn't even been bad) was over he was so tired.

Good byes were exchanged, a few more lollipops "for later" were pressed upon Shiro along with several instant ice-packs and before Keith realized it they were boarding an elevator for the sixth floor.

They encountered a few Garrison students when they exited onto Shiro's floor and Keith could feel the stares, the confusion and even the concern as his bruised cheek shone like a neon beacon. Shiro quietly said hello but did not pause in his semi-brisk walk, hand once more on Keith's back to guide him.

Keith though was staring back at the students as much as he was able to while keeping his head ducked down. Everyone here not only knew Shiro but seemed to be going out of their way to say hello. It made his stomach roll with something he couldn't identify. He scanned rooms as they passed a few open doors; seeing the typical college dorm experience of double bunks or beds across from one another and some messier than others but all somewhat presentable.

Shiro paused in front of one room and typed in a code – no keys here – and pushed open the door and flipped on the light. Keith blinked. Shiro's room was the size of the others but it only had one set of everything; bed, desk, dresser and nightstand. There was a cot already set up, a pile of standard issue hotel-like bedding on it, under the window.

Where was Shiro's roommate?

His eyes raked about the room, covered in a mix of posters. Galaxy Garrison propaganda ones, space and constellations, the Kerberos Mission adverts, anime (and that was a surprise, Keith hid a grin) and… and several with Shiro's picture on them.

What?

Shiro let out a low chuckle, seeing where Keith's eyes had tracked to.

"I'm the literal poster boy for the fighter pilot program," he grimaced. "Matt just puts them back up every time I take them down though and after he put one on the ceiling above the bed…" he shook his head with a rueful grin. "I just let him have at it."

"You're… you're famous?" Keith managed to get out.

It was Shiro's turn to give an uncomfortable roll of his shoulders. "In a way, I guess. It's not a big deal. Best part is my own room, right?" he smiled although it didn't quite reach his eyes and Keith felt guilt pool hot and heavy that he'd made Shiro look like that. Fame was apparently not something the older boy had sought out.

He should have realized though. Shiro couldn't be an ordinary student. Not with the way he knew Commander Holt. Not with how he'd had enough pull to get Keith, a foster kid with a record and no money to speak of, into the Galaxy Garrison. He wasn't just some student, some senior. He was the literal face of the fighter pilot program.

"Y-yeah," Keith stuttered. He floundered for something else to say, to move them out of the awkward silence – and landed back on one of the other posters. "Anime?"

Shiro let out a real laugh then and Keith wilted with relief. "Of course. I'll have to set you up with some of my favorite series while you're here. You'll love them!"

Keith grinned back. If Shiro loved them he would love them too.

"But not now," Shiro gestured towards the bed, made up with black and white patterns. "Doctor ordered bed rest and I don't think you got very much sleep last night."

Keith didn't confirm or deny that statement, but the silence was telling enough. But rather than going for the bed he veered towards the cot.

"Uh uh," Shiro intercepted him, hands on his hips before he pointed at the actual bed in the room. "Bed. Now."

Keith quirked an eyebrow. "Shiro. You're…" Big? Much larger? Wouldn't actually fit on the cot?

"I'm what?" Shiro asked, although a smirk was tugging up his lips.

"Too tall," Keith went with. "Besides, it's your bed." And he would feel so, so guilty taking it. The cot was more than enough. It was better than some of the situations he'd been in before and this one came equipped with blankets and everything.

"And the doctor said you needed to sleep propped up," Shiro countered. "You can't do that on a cot."

Keith's protest froze. He had a point.

"Two nights," Shiro wheedled. "Then you can have the cot since it's apparently the hot commodity here. Although who knows, maybe I won't give it up." Saying so he flopped on it and the structure gave an alarming sounding creak and bowed in the middle around Shiro.

Keith laughed.

It hurt his ribs but he couldn't seem to stop as Shiro struggled to regain his feet, the cot creaking like it was dying all the while.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd laughed his hard.

Shiro was chuckling too, although his were not from his situation but at seeing Keith so happy. It was so at odds with the boy he'd laid eyes on just that morning on the stairwell, shoulders drawn in and holding onto his duffle bag as though it was a shield.

This was going to work. He could feel it. It made him grin wider.

"Okay, enough, enough," he said, scrambling to his feet when Keith's laughs turned into wheezes. "Let's get you settled before I have to take you back to the med bay for a busted gut." To his relief the look he got was not one of trepidation at the mention of the doctors but an eye roll at the exaggeration.

"Let me show you where the bathroom is," Shiro said, "and you can wash up and brush your teeth from the candy. And then sleep."

At the reminder of the word exhaustion was heavy on his eyes again and Keith nodded. He dug through his duffle and pulled out his toothbrush and small bottle of toothpaste he had left as well as one of the over-large tee shirts that had been donated and a pair of pajama bottoms.

When he turned around it was to see Shiro with an armful of shirts and slacks, in the process of dumping them onto the top of his desk. "Here," Shiro turned his attention back to the dresser and gestured at the lowest drawer on the stack. "This is for your stuff for now. We'll figure out something better later."

"Shiro, I… I just have this," Keith nudged his bag. He knew its contents by heart. One more ill-fitting shirt, three that fit okay, a second pair of jeans and one more set of pajama bottoms, along with a few pairs of balled up socks and underwear. And his knife, hidden inside one of the socks. "I don't need a whole drawer."

"Not yet," Shiro retorted. "We're going shopping later and you'll need it then."

Keith's eyes widened. He didn't have any money. He couldn't afford anything new and now that he wasn't part of the foster program he wouldn't even get the donated items.

"It's all covered," Shiro said softly.

"But—"

"No buts," Shiro cut in gently. "Think of it as a belated birthday gift. October 23, right? Not even a month ago." He'd gotten the date from Aimee that morning, saddened that Keith hadn't even mentioned it despite the fact they'd known each other since mid-September. He understood though. And that just made it worse.

Keith's eyes were watering and he hastily dragged his jacket sleeve across them. A birthday present? He… he hadn't had such a thing since his dad had died. And Shiro wanted to…?

He was moving before he was aware of what he was doing, arms reaching out to wrap about Shiro's waist in a tight hug.

"Aww, buddy," Shiro's arms wrapped around him, squeezing lightly. "It's… it's just some clothes." But Shiro's voice was thick and they both knew it was much, much more than that.

Keith could have remained right there for forever, but a yawn cracked his jaw and that was all Shiro needed to pull away from the embrace and turn them both towards the door. "Bathroom," he said, rubbing at his own eyes that were feeling a bit red.

The bathroom was a few doors down the hall; typical communal style of a dorm with three sinks, two urinals, a toilet and two showers behind curtains. No one was in it, not surprising as it was still early for most students on a Saturday and the typical wake-up time was closer to fourteen hundred hours. Shiro had never understood that and he was up promptly every day by oh six-hundred.

In the florescent lighting of the bathroom Keith's bruised cheek seemed even more pronounced and Shiro felt the hot dregs of anger swirl as Keith lightly winced when opening his mouth to insert his tooth brush. Worse yet he knew there wasn't going to be much in terms of justice. That worst of the wounds Keith had right now were from other children and the most they'd get was a simple battery charge if they were even prosecuted; Keith had not given up any names outside of his foster brother, Garrett, and Shiro doubted he would.

Somehow, miraculously, Keith had only the barest trace of a single scar on his back, a thin line cutting from shoulder to almost his hip, but if Shiro hadn't known to look for it he'd have assumed it was a shadow or work of the light. He was grateful Keith had almost no marks from any of his previous homes and their abuse to carry with him, but it did make it impossible to make a case as all they had were Keith's words since no one had ever bothered to take photographs and document his wounds.

And Mark. Shiro's hands clenched at the thought of that man who dared take on the title of father in any regard. He had been the one to put those fingerprints on slender shoulders, to make Keith flinch back as though expecting a strike. Yet he and all of the others would walk away; discipline their defense Aimee sighed. And Keith was ultimately all right, physically. There were too many other cases in the system that would bury his if they did try.

The most they had was a blacklist on his name for any future foster children and Aimee said she would be having the family pay their own hospital expenses instead of the agency footing the bill as their son had been the instigator.

It wasn't fair.

Not only had this family pushed Keith around, they hadn't fed him regularly. They'd kept him isolated. Made him feel like he didn't matter. They had emotionally abused him and those scars could run far deeper than a cut or bruise. Aimee had cautioned Shiro on that once Keith had somewhat drifted off, her eyes sorrowful. This wasn't just a matter of providing once a week support like he had done with the big brother program or merely putting a roof over Keith's head. This was a commitment.

It hadn't really hit Shiro until he was cleaning out a drawer for Keith's use just how much it was.

It's not like he had legally adopted Keith – and at twenty-one he absolutely was not ready to have a fourteen-year-old fully dependent on him – but he sort of… had? While the Garrison was going to provide food and medical and technically provide the housing, Keith was living for now in Shiro's room. He had no money and while Shiro had more than the typical student thanks to the stipends he got from being their poster boy – he winced at that – it was nowhere near enough to support Keith long-term. The Garrison would pay for tuition and uniforms and materials, but that was it. Nothing extra.

It wasn't just physical expenses. Keith needed emotional support and he needed stability. He was the youngest by a lot of years in the Garrison and wouldn't have any kids his age to hang out with. He'd have Shiro and while Shiro hoped he could introduce him to some of his friends he knew that wasn't quite the same.

And then… if all went according to the Garrison's plans he'd be on the Kerebos Mission in just over three years and Keith… Keith would be here alone. Shiro shook his head, clearing it from his thoughts. It wasn't for three years and a lot could happen in that time. He might not even be chosen; he may be the number one candidate from the student body but the mission was open to all qualified pilots and there were some damn good ones in the world.

And yet, Shiro felt that somehow this mission was destined to be his. He'd wanted nothing more in his entire life. To be a part of something so ground-breaking, to explore untold reaches of space… it was such a thrilling thought. To be able to use his talents too as something other than a fighter pilot, bred for war and defense, and to instead put humankind on the literal map for a new mark in the universe.

But Keith…

Later. It wasn't an issue until he passed his first year as an officer and that was over a year and a half down the road. There was plenty of time. Right now he could afford to focus on Keith and make sure he got accepted into the Garrison in February and had this chance at a new life.

He allowed himself a small smirk as Keith rinsed his mouth. If Keith were older he had a feeling that it'd be him, not Shiro, being groomed for the mission. Keith was going to be an amazing pilot and do amazing things. Shiro knew it.

But right now Keith was a tired, exhausted and hurt kid who really needed to get to bed. That Shiro could at least do without playing twenty questions. The rest would work itself out. It always did.

Keith was practically dragging his feet on the way back to the room and while Shiro arranged his pillow stack to give Keith better support, wedging him into the corner of the bed that leaned up against the dresser so he couldn't fall off, Keith changed into pajamas.

He did it quickly but Shiro still caught sight of the bruises as he turned around and felt anger rumble through him again, dampening it when tired purple eyes drifted up to his.

"All set," he patted the bed. "And I've got an icepack and some medicine with your name on it."

"It actually says P five-hundred," Keith said, accepting the pill and a bottle of water Shiro had pulled from his mini-fridge.

"Smart aleck," Shiro grinned, ruffling Keith's hair.

Keith took the ice pack then, two of them, and pressed them both atop his ribs over his shirt and leaned back into the pillow throne. Shiro tugged the comforter up and smoothed it down. "Comfy?"

"Mhm."

Keith's eyes were angled down again though and Shiro was reminded again how big this situation really was. But he'd meant what he'd told Keith in the car; he was here because he wanted to do this. He wanted Keith to find happiness, to find people who truly cared about him. He wanted the world – no, the universe – for this boy who had been robbed of so much already.

"What is it?" he asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed by Keith's legs.

"Is… is this really okay?"

"The bed?" Shiro purposely ignored the larger question. "Of course. I told you, the cot is the big ticket item here. I'm ecstatic to get it all to myself for two nights."

It didn't so much as pull a smile. "I mean this," Keith's fingers traced a circle on the bedspread. "All of this."

"Keith, look at me," Shiro commanded gently and a pair of bright eyes lifted. "Tell me honestly: do you want to be here?"

"Y-yes."

"Then it's more than okay. You trust me, right?"

Keith's eyes widened and he nodded quickly. "Yes. Of course."

"Then trust me now. I want nothing more than for you to be safe. And happy. And loved." He felt his own cheeks darkening at the admission and a blush stole across Keith's too. But he could describe it as nothing else. As Matt had pointed out to him Shiro had taken the program title much more literally than it was meant to be and he'd found himself with a little brother, a real one. Shiro had never been happier.

"I know we're still getting to know each other, but you're something special Keith," Shiro continued quietly. "Don't you ever doubt that or doubt that I will do whatever it takes to give you the best chance at a new future."

Keith's eyes were filling up again and Shiro reached forward, tenderly running his thumb under them before the tears fell. "Get some sleep," he murmured. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Shiro wasn't sure what guided him next. His grandparents had never been the overly touchy-feely kind but he'd seen the way Keith had craved and leaned into kind touches and holds and how much of that he must have missed the last few years. So guided by an instinct he wasn't sure of its origin he pressed a kiss to the top of the dark head before he pulled away and while Keith's eyes widened the softest smile formed on his lips.

"Good night, Shiro," he whispered.

"Sweet dreams."

Keith was out within the minute and Shiro smiled tenderly at him, adjusted the blanket one last time, and then sank down onto the cot.

He could go for some sweet dreams too.

xxx

Author's Notes:

*This* will be the final piece to my Shiro and Keith backstory but it will be *three* chapters. It sort of ran away with me, hahaaaaa. I had thoughts to adding to this series back in April and then publishing it sometime after Color finished in August, but when season six came out and my headcanon became almost literal canon the proverbial fires were lit to get this out sooner than later.

As I said, there are three chapters to this last piece. Update schedule is up to you guys! I'll either be updating weekly on Tuesdays, but if it gets a really good response (which, cough, does not entail comments consisting entirely of 'update soon' or 'keyboard smashing', I mean legit comments) then I'll adjust the schedule and in this case chapter two will publish this Saturday. Otherwise it will update on Tuesday.

So please, drop a comment below. A comment is the best way to say thank you to an author for all of their hard work and time and effort put into writing a fanfiction. We love to hear from our readers. Thank you very much!