Chapter Text
It’s been five months since Shiro had left him. Again. Keith had let himself wallow for a while, threw himself into training all day and drinking all night but after one too many mornings of waking up with unexplained bruises he finally managed to crawl out of the hole of self loathing.
He was sat at the kitchen counter one morning when Adam walked in, cheery as usual, and Keith genuinely wondered to himself if Adam knew Takashi was gone. He had told Keith about the group. ‘Hands of help’ or something corny like that. But since he was living rent free in an apartment now solely belonging to Adam, Keith decided it was the least he could do to pretend he cared.
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As he walked over to the small table with a pot of coffee set up a tanned boy grimaces at him “I wouldn’t, the stuff’s awful” he grins gently, perfect teeth and perfect smile. ‘What on earth is a boy like that doing at a grief group?’ Keith thinks to himself as he defiantly pours a cup of coffee anyway. He instantly regrets it when the sharp, rancid taste invades his mouth. He winces but tries to hide it from the taller boy who just smirks “told ya” he laughs gently, pinching a donut from the table “if you want any good coffee you have to get some before….i’m Lance by the way, first meeting?” Lance. Keith tastes the name in his mouth, as if trying it out “right- uh yeah I…my brother’s boyfriend made me come” he mutters, subtly leaving his coffee on the table and walking over to the main group.
Keith was no stranger to loss, to grief, but it was different with shiro. He never knew his mum, but he did know she was gone. He felt the hole she left somewhere in his heart by not being there. His dad never spoke of her, all she had left behind was a blade, a stupid blade. What a great gift idea for a baby.
His dad hurt a bit more, he had seen him go. Seen him run back into that building just to try and save another person. As much as Keith hates to admit it, he doesn’t think he would ever forgive his dad. He felt betrayed. As if possibly saving someone else was worth more than giving Keith a stable life. But he doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He won’t get anywhere moping about the past, though he supposes that’s what this whole group is about.
But shiro? That’s what really hurt. He had been left time and time again by shiro, and yet he always welcomed him back with open arms. Whether it was the mission on kerberos or the promotion that made him move away shiro always found a way back to Keith. But not this time. Logically Keith knows that he isn’t coming back, yet every time he hears a laugh that’s too familiar or the sound of his door unlocking echos in his mind, he expects to look up and see his brother.
Naturally, he doesn’t say any of this. He just sits there and picks idly at his nails and listens to the other group members whine about their own sob stories as he thinks to himself ‘how on earth does Adam think I’m going to feel any better by listening to people drone on and on?’ He groans quietly and wonders if it would be rude to get up and have a cigarette. He decides probably so keeps listening reluctantly.
Eventually the circle gets around to him and he tries to politely wave off his turn, but the leader insists. Klare ,he thinks, a cheery round woman with tight curls that bounce as she talks, moving her hands wildly. Keith already hates her. When she insists again he sighs “uh,right” he murmurs haltingly “I’m Keith…and I lost my brother” he says succinctly, ignoring the pitying looks he gets.
Logically he knows the group will only help if he talks. If he shares. Finds camaraderie or whatever but he’d rather die than have all these strangers know his every thought and feeling. Shiro was the only one who could read him. Who could know what he wanted just by a look and now he was gone. Why should Keith expect any help from anyone else, let alone from strangers dealing with their own fucked up families.
Lance is last to speak, he has a saccharine cheery smile that makes Keith sick to the stomach, why on earth was he so damn happy to be at a grief group? Even so, he can’t help but pay attention, can’t help but memorise every word that Lance speaks. He had lost his girlfriend, a soldier, a noble sacrifice no doubt. Seems like just the kind of girl he’d go for. Presumably someone just as obnoxiously cheery and helpful as him. Keith is just waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting to see what awful secrets he must be hiding beneath the practiced smile.
Keith commits every word to memory, strangely caught on every syllable. He won’t know for months though why he cared so much about this boy, all he knows is that he wants to see him again.