Chapter Text
Keith remembers being pulled from the black lion, Allura lifting him up when his legs collapse beneath him. The next time he wakes, there’s a hand at his brow, water dripping over the swoop of his nose and splattering down his jaw. Shiro’s grip on the cloth is unsteady, his mouth has pulled crooked with worry and his eyes are dark and damp.
It’s the sort of expression he doesn’t like anyone to see.
“Hey,” Keith murmurs huskily. “Shouldn’t you be the one in bed?”
Shiro’s eyes widen, his throat twitches as his lips part on an inhale. For a second his features crumple, eyebrows tipped up in the middle and his mouth slackening as he sips another breath. Then the cloth drops, hits Keith’s lap with a wet splat as Shiro wraps both arms around him, buries his face in Keith’s shoulder.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shiro whispers, the words dry and rough, gritted through his teeth. “I thought- Keith, I-”
Keith has scrunched both his fists into the back of Shiro’s shirt, feels the taller man’s shoulders jerk as Shiro shakes his head, his breath uneven against Keith’s neck. Keith has never held him so fiercely, Shiro has never felt quite so warm, or so heavy, or so real.
Keith never wants to let go.
“Are you okay?” says Keith, and he no longer cares that his voice trembles, pitches up at the edges. “There’s so much I- I kept telling myself- I almost lost hope, Shiro-”
He’s making no sense but Shiro only hugs tighter, he makes an awful sniffling sound as Keith tangles his fingers in Shiro’s hair.
“Whatever happened, I’m here for you,” Keith manages, breathless, he grazes his thumbs below Shiro’s eyes. Shiro gives a watery smile, and that’s enough to make Keith’s chest seize up all over again.
“I’ll pull through,” Shiro tries to reassure him, but he starts coughing a second later, doubles over as he turns to his side.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” says Keith, he wraps an arm around Shiro’s waist and holds him up till he can breathe.
“-sorry,” Shiro rasps, and Keith reaches for the pouch of water by his bedside. Shiro always did forget his own well-being when one of the team needed him, and Keith suddenly has the sinking feeling this is no exception.
“I’ll grab the rehydration kit,” say Keith, he’s already on his feet as Shiro coughs again. “And nutri-gel. “And then soup, if you can keep it down. Ugh, I’m sitting around telling you how I missed you when you obviously need- when you’re- when-”
“Keith...” Shiro hushes him, and for all his ragged appearance, something in his face softens.
“...I missed you too,” Shiro says quietly. He straightens, tries to look like his old self. “Of all the things that kept me going when- well-”
Keith leans into Shiro one last time, his face pressed against what’s left of Shiro’s shirt. He bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt to pull himself together.
“Just- so much,” Shiro finishes, he squeezes Keith’s arm. For a moment they both look ready to laugh, the sheer relief of it all catching up in a near-nauseating rush.
When Lance, Pidge and Hunk all tumble into the room a second later, Keith is fairly sure they’re no less overwhelmed.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Pidge says hoarsely, darts over to the bed and throws their arms around Shiro’s waist. Lance isn’t far behind, and to Keith’s surprise, he holds out his arms somewhat clumsily, as if at a loss for how to ask for a hug. If Shiro’s surprised he doesn’t show it, he stretches out his non-Galra arm and lets Lance tuck into his shoulder, quiet and shaky.
“Welcome back, man,” says Hunk, he’s gripping a tray of assorted liquids tight enough that it might snap, the glasses wobbling precariously as he tries to set it down gently. He manages a smile when Shiro nods in thanks.
“Just a sec, guys,” says Shiro, carefully pats Lance and Pidge on the back so that they give him some room. When Shiro turns into his arm to cough, Lance throws Keith a concerned grimace.
“Yikes, Shiro, that does not sound good,” Lance mumbles. Hunk offers a new pouch of water, this one mixed with the nutri-gel. Keith’s pretty sure Shiro only agrees to it so that Pidge and Lance might worry less.
“Thanks-” Shiro nods, but he squints uneasily as he swallows. Keith’s gaze shifts to the trash can, but Shiro steels himself and finishes, gives a pained smile.
“I feel... a bit better,” he tries, then looks confused as the rest of the team start grinning, even Keith feels his mouth hitch at one corner.
“Yeah. You… really need to work on that whole lying thing,” Hunk laughs, and the tension eases from Shiro’s posture as he finds himself laughing too.
“Noted,” Shiro says dryly, but he does look a bit better at least, and some of the colour has returned to his face.
“Alright guys, lets clear out and let him sleep,” says Pidge, tugs Lance by the arm when he seems reluctant to leave.
“Yell if you need anything, okay?” says Hunk, keeps rearranging the various drinks by Shiro’s side until Pidge has to pull him away too.
“Shiro…?” says Lance. He hovers in the doorway, runs a hand over his mouth. Shiro moves as if to go to him, but Lance shakes his head, Shiro looks weak enough as it is.
“I just. Um.” Lance clears his throat, tucks his hands below his arms. “Thanks for… making it. Thanks for coming back,” he finishes, swallows a despairing look when the sentiment doesn’t quite come out how he intends.
But Shiro understands, he dips his head, just once.
Lance gives a half-smile, then softly closes the door behind him.
Shiro waits as long as he can as their footsteps fade down the hall, then coughs violently as Keith fetches him a second blanket.
He wonders if Shiro’s going to go back to his actual room, or if he’ll suggest they swap for the night. Keith has no idea how to suggest that he stays, or that he wants him to, or that the thought of being apart again feels like a punch to the stomach.
Keith takes a breath.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he snaps, winces as it comes out like an accusation.
Shiro tries not to smile.
“Neither am I,” he says gently.
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