Chapter Text
“Keith, we really should be taking the quickest route home.”
“And we will be, especially if we race.”
“There’s a lot of traffic on the roads at this time of night, and -”
“What’s the matter Shiro? Scared your winning streak is finally going to end?”
“Seriously, Keith, it’s been raining, not tonight.”
“I’ll slow down if you catch me!”
“Keith, no-!”
He doesn’t catch the rest of what Shiro says as he speeds off on his bike, ducking and weaving between the heavy onslaught of vehicles in both directions. The telltale roar of Shiro’s motorbike behind him makes him grin and speed up more, and the thrill of the chase blots out the noises and lights around him as he takes sharp turns and glides over the roads at dangerously close yellow lights. The wind cuts deep into his leather gloves and jacket and he can feel the wisps of the hair under his helmet billow and he laughs as his brother finally catches up to him with a short beep and overtaking him at the next junction. He needed this. Needed this bit of fun to take his mind off of things. The race is nearly over, he thinks, just a few more blocks until they reach the residential area where they live and they can slow down, but Keith desperately wants to be first this time, and he speeds up close, way closer than normal to Shiro’s bike, coming up on his left hand side. He’s so close he can almost touch him, and he lets go of one of the handles to do just that, indicating to Shiro to give him a high-five whilst driving. Shiro shakes his head, but where’s the fun in that? Keith leans in closer, only the bike starts to tip and he has to correct himself sharply if he doesn’t want to hit anything. Shiro pulls away to give him some space, and it’s in that moment of panic and sharp relief between them that everything goes to hell.
Suddenly, Shiro isn’t beside him anymore.
Suddenly a chorus of honking and screeching tires is all he can hear of the traffic.
The distinct, terrifying sounds of a bike being hit by a car is all too real and delayed in Keith’s mind as his bike finally slips on the wet tarmac and his body goes rolling across the ground.
There aren’t any cars around him when he feels ready to sit up, and when he does he can see why: the traffic is at a standstill behind a crushed motorbike, several wrecked cars and people yelling over a body on the floor.
The sirens ring in his ears for hours after that.
(Several Days Later)
Lance leaves his last class for the day feeling odd, a sensation that has been growing steadily over the past few days. There is something missing, he thinks, though he can't place what it is exactly. Maybe a couple students missing? The classes felt a lot smaller today, but that isn't unusual. Hunk doesn't seem to think anything is wrong either when he voices his feelings as they walk out into the parking lot.
"I'm usually the one with the gut feelings," Hunk jokes, patting his back with a grin. "I'm sure everything is fine, dude."
"Yeah, you're probably right buddy." Lance smiles and rolls his shoulders, and once they're halfway through the lot they part ways to their individual cars and head home. Lance drives for a long time, through the busy town streets and out to the country lanes that take him home. When the sign for his home approaches, he takes the turn and rolls up to the small collection of buildings that make up his childhood, his home and his workplace all in one.
The thing is, when your family runs a shelter and a farm at once, like Lance's family does, you can expect to see a lot of strays. So while Lance is used to coming home to find all sorts of new additions to his family, be it a cat, dog, chicken or the occasional new human sibling, he is not expecting this. Coming home to Keith Kogane on his doorstep is one stray too many.
"Hey," he calls out after parking. The familiar mop of dark black hair is unforgettable; and suddenly it clicks that he hasn't seen Keith in any of their classes for a while. The slim figure turns as he stomps up towards him, and as he gets closer he can see the dishevelled state of the other teen's clothing, as well as the two worn duffel bags on the bench by the door, and he climbs up the porch steps to come face-to-face with a scowl and a wary posed wreck.
"How do you know where I live?"
The first thing he blurts out isn't exactly what he wanted to say, but it's what he’d been thinking, and there's no taking it back, after all, so he goes with it. He hasn’t spoken to Keith in so long that it almost feels unnatural at this point.
Keith raises a brow. "I didn't. I was just dropped off here by the child protection services."
That raises several more concerned flags and curious questions for Lance, but before he can ask another one the door beside him swings open and he startles as his mum rushes out.
"Lance! You're finally home; help Keith get his things into the spare room. I'll be with you in a second."
She rushes past them again with a hum, phone tucked back into her ear as she talks to whichever client about a dog in their shelter they were interested in as she heads back into the house.
Lance glances between her disappearing back and the ragged state Keith is in, namely as worn out as the patchy rags he was wearing, and shrugs.
"You know what, I'm not gonna ask," he sighs out to no-one in particular and grabs one of the surprisingly heavy bags.
"That's it?" Keith mutters, and Lance glances back at him questioningly. "You barely know me but you're just letting me in?"
"Well for a start, I kinda have to," Lance points out. "You said you were dropped here by CPS right?" Keith nods slowly. "Then that means you're in Mam's care now, so you're not going anywhere for awhile at least. Plus, she literally just gave the orders to help you out." Lance tries a supportive smile. "Welcome to the fam, Keithy-kins."
Keith scowls. "I'm not here because I want to be. Don't drag me into your weird family ideals, idiot."
Lance blinks at the venom in the other boy's words, and the shock keeps him silent for a moment, but his anger bubbles up soon after. How dare he? Whatever problems he has with Lance, he can take it out on him, not his siblings. Not his family. The brunet sees red and he takes a quick step into Keith's personal space. It cuts the other boy’s glower off pretty quick as he hisses, "Don't you dare say anything about my family, Mullet. Like it or not you're under our roof now and I ain't takin’ no shit from you, understand?"
His height is his advantage and those meagre inches he has over him wins him the glaring contest as Keith shrugs sullenly and looks away. He takes his silence as an agreement to keep his opinions to himself and Lance begins to lead the silent guest up to the spare bedroom. The old farmhouse that made their home is fairly large, and nicely remodelled on the inside to keep up with the modern times, and though their family is large itself they have plenty of space for occasional guests like Keith. Keith's room is sparsely decorated; plain white sheets on the bed and simple quilts and duvet covers, with cream walls and matching curtains. The carpet is dark to cover any possible stains and the desk is dark mahogany like the wardrobe and bed frame; all in all the room is spacious for one person and thankfully Keith keeps his comments to himself as he looks around.
"This'll be your room while you're here," Lance sighs quietly. "Mine's the room farthest down the hall on the left, the bathroom is the door in between this room and mine. Molly and Alex's room are the doors on the other side of the hall. Lucas and Lucy have the attic rooms on the floor above, and the parents have the en-suite at the back of the house on the bottom floor. You'll get all the rooms figured out quickly, there's nameplates on the doors and stuff."
Keith grunts noncommittally and throws his bags down beside the one Lance had set on the bed, and starts unpacking a sleek black laptop from his backpack.
"I'm gonna... do some work." He says eventually, glancing up at Lance through his long fringe. “Do you mind?”
He wants Lance to leave, he supposes.
“...Alright then.” Lance begins to back out of the room. “Mam will be by later to update you on like, house rules and stuff, and dinner’s at 7… see ya later?”
“Mhmm,” Keith doesn’t even glance at him this time, instead focusing on plugging the laptop in and setting it up at the desk.
His role done, Lance shuts the door after him with a confused release of breath, and picks up the dangling chalk hanging from the door’s chalkboard, scribbling ‘Keith’ in slanted text on the slate. This is as welcoming as he was going to be though, and when he heads back downstairs to pick his things up from his car, he beelines to his mum instead.
“Mam, what the hell!?” He whispers urgently, rounding the kitchen’s island counter and grabbing his mother’s arms gently. “Why is he here?!”
“Who, Keith?” His mother hums, unperturbed by Lance’s dramatics.
“No, Toby the cat.” Lance rolls his eyes. “Of course Keith!”
“How else do kids turn up in this house, sweetie?” Lance’s mother smiles at him sadly. “Through unfortunate circumstances, Keith was involved in an accident and had to be relocated almost immediately. Don’t go picking any fights with him, okay? He’s got nowhere else right now.”
“Where’s his family…?” Lance trails off quietly. “Where are the people who were fostering him before?”
“Out of the country.” She replies, equally quiet. “They had to fly their other son to the States for treatment.”
Oh.
Keith’s ragged state suddenly made a lot more sense.
“I’m serious, Lance.” His mother, the wonderful foster parent that she is, hugs him gently. “He’s in a rough mindset. Kindness is your best feature; let’s show him that, shall we?”
“Yes Mam.”
Later, after he’d helped out in the shelter, around the house and had his turn in the shower, Lance lays flat on his bed and contemplates the situation that he knows of so far.
One: Keith Kogane, famous top-notch college student in his year group, is also a foster kid like himself.
Two: Keith has a brother, and the two of them had had an accident. Only his brother seems to have been seriously injured.
Three: it’d been a big enough injury to warrant the family temporarily moving their whole lives to the States for the treatment.
Four: they didn’t take Keith with them.
Why the hell was that?
Well, Lance knew from his own experience that foster parents can be really shitty. He went through a few bad ones himself before Mam. But he couldn’t imagine for the life of him grown up adults dropping a kid immediately before leaving the country with their other kid? It’s insane. Why not just take him with them?
There were so many questions that were going to plague him while Keith stays here, he only hopes he can keep his mouth shut.
The call for dinner happens soon after he collects his thoughts, and on his way down he catches Keith outside his door. The teen looks even more ragged in his flannel bottoms and large sweater, but he scowls at Lance fiercely, daring him to say anything. Lance keeps silent.
At the dining table, introductions are made. Mam, otherwise known as Julia Rivera, heads the table and sets about passing out all the vegetables and gravy for everyone to load on their plates. Mateo Rivera, her husband, carves up the roast for everyone to help themselves to. Sat opposite him on Mam’s other side is the oldest son, Lucas, who is twenty-four, and his twin sister Lucy sat chatting away on his other side. Lance sat on his father’s other side, and Keith next to him, leaving the other end of the table for fourteen-year-old Alexander and the remaining seat next to Lucy to eight-year-old Molly-Rose. Despite the table being chaotic and its usual mess, everyone makes sure to welcome Keith to the dinner table, and Lance watches as the raven-haired teen forces a half-smile and thanks as he heaps pitifully small portions of everything onto his plate.
"You're not gonna get away with eating just that," Lance murmurs. "Eat as much as you want, dude."
Keith scowls at him, though his eyes flicker to the younger kids at the table and he keeps his mouth shut. After a beat, he whispers back. "I don't want more than this, okay? Buzz off."
Lance snorts, and ignores the scowling boy's glares in favour of downing his food.
It seems as though the only thing Keith is capable of doing in abundance at the moment is scowling, glaring and muttering vague answers when spoken to. The others give up on getting him to open up after the first few one-word answers.
The only thing that seems to have made Keith relax at the table was Mam. It’s impossible to argue with her warmth and abundance of affection, and her welcoming presence in almost every conversation keeps Lance grounded instead of slowly becoming riled up by Keith’s quiet form next to him. He feels an odd sort of tension; not entirely misplaced due to his feelings for the guy, and he thinks he should feel awkward too considering that, but more to the point his concern for the dude overrules everything else he can think of right now.
Keith looks at Mam with soft uncertainty whenever Lance's eyes catch sight of him. There's so much going on in that clouded expression that Lance doesn't think he'll ever figure out, especially considering their history.
After dinner, the luck of the draw has Alex helping clean the dishes and the rest of the household go about their business. The twins head back outside to lock up the poultry and other farm animals for the night, and Molly unpacks her homework at the table to work on. Keith thanks Mam for the food and makes a beeline for the stairs quickly. Lance follows just as fast.
"Hey, hey Keith!"
"What!" Keith snaps quietly. He's not quite angry, but a little on edge.
"Do you..." Lance trails off, wondering how to word things. "Do you remember me at all? From the thing a couple months ago, before Christmas?"
Keith frowns at him, and for a moment Lance is going to get told to piss off, but the raven-haired teen seems to try and think his words over for a moment.
"I know... we were sat near each other?" He manages, tone more of a question than a statement.
"I sat in the row behind you." Lance nods; this was good, getting somewhere. "We used to pass notes for a bit."
I used to try flirting with you.
"Right." Keith's brow furrows a little more. "I'm sorry... I don't- I'm not... good at remembering things right now."
"Oh." Lance mind helpfully adds, "the accident, right?"
Keith pales, lips pulling taut and suddenly he looks like he might be sick.
Eyes wide, Lance tries to fix himself, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"I hit my head." Keith says quietly. "Short term memory loss. Anything in the past year or so is a little fuzzy. I don't really remember you, I'm sorry."
He doesn’t remember.
He doesn’t remember all the time I spent flirting with him, making him laugh.
He doesn’t remember breaking my heart into a whole bunch of pieces.
Lance takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes, and his eyes catch sight of the other boy's shaking fists, clenching and relaxing in tight rhythm.
"It's fine." He holds out his hand, startling them both. "Let's restart. Lance Rivera, 18, I go to the same college as you. We share an Advanced Mathematics class, and a Photography class, and have the same lunch hour. We don't sit near each other anymore though, so we haven't spoken really since... back then."
Keith looks at him curiously at that last part. Lance can't really look him in the eye, but he doesn't lower his hand.
Keith takes it, hesitantly and with surprising gentleness.
"Keith Kogane. 18, and you probably don't want to know a lot about me."
Lance raises a brow, and Keith manages to do the same.
"I think I'll decide that myself, McMullet."
Keith smirks so briefly, Lance nearly imagines it. But then it disappears as a sadness sweeps over his features.
"Thanks but... I think I'm better keeping my distance for now. I'm... I'm gonna go to bed early. See you around."
"G'night.." Lance murmurs as he watches Keith climb the rest of the stairs and close the door to his room.
Later, in the middle of the night, Lance wakes to get a drink and sees the faintest glowing light under Keith's door, and wonders just how distant he was planning to be from them.