Patience Yields Focus

I know my Shiro blog has only just started a couple months ago, but I am quitting.

Keith managed to get a handle on it, it seemed, but Shiro knew him better than anyone. He knew when those eyes refused to meet his for longer than a split second, that Keith was hiding from him.

It hurt him to see Keith like this. It also hurt to know Keith was shutting him out. He never blamed the other. These walls had been his natural defense for his whole life. And Shiro knew there was no way of wiggling through if Keith didn't want him to.

To think Keith was that set on thinking he had to deal with whatever was causing him this much distress on his own, however... That was what hurt him the most.

"There's a mandatory meeting we've been requested to be present for," Shiro started.

They both knew that wasn't the real reason he was here. It made a good excuse for them both, however. Gave reason for him to be here and took some of the blame off Keith.

Not that he would have minded having a bunch of kids to watch over in the Black Lion cabin, it was his job after all, but not many ever registered for it. Probably because it was located far away from the area’s of general activities. Hidden through by a path through some evergreens, and surrounded on the other side by the lake. 

Still, Shiro did enjoy his quiet. 

That’s where Shiro lead Kyle. Through the path, and then across the sand towards the cabin. Keeping his hand firmly placed between Kyle’s shoulder blades until they stepped out from the underbrush. 

Stepping up on to small porch, Shiro held open the screen door. Leading into beds that were all made. It smelled a little musty, but for the most part, the inside was clean. Shiro flipped on the overhead light before offering Kyle a smile. 

His hand moved. Gently running through those dark locks as Keith settled on his thigh. He started to shift through his phone, only to look back down and chuckle.

"I need to have something on for when the food arrives," he said.

As Keith shifted his attention, the alpha lowered his phone. Just in time to be met with a whisper of a kiss against his mouth.

"Keith..."

It was both the most beautiful thing, and the most painful. His brows furrowed, and yet despite how he knew he should stop this, he couldn't find the strength. Tilting his head and alpha practically melting under the omegas nuzzle.

Silver eyes assessed the spread of Hunk's tools from his belt, before landing on the foil blanket. They needed to use that. And they should huddle together. That would conserve heat.

"Yeah, found it," Shiro replied, handing the helmet over first.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Shiro started to settle. Yelping as the pain shot through his chest. Air rushing out of him so fast that he almost collapsed. He managed, at the last second. Flopping over. His white bangs splattered to his chest from the cold sweat. Grimacing as he panted through the agony of his broken ribs.

The piercing ringing sound was loud enough that even Shiro raised his hand to his right ear. Blocking the sound of it as Hunk yanked his helmet off just as fast as he put it on. And he didn't lower it until Hunk shut it off. Furrowing his brows and frowning deeply down at the helmet in the others lap.

"We need," a wheeze, "a plan."

Hunk was a step ahead of him. And Shiro marveled at the other as he flipped his helmet and turned it into a distress beacon. It truly was brilliant. The things that Hunk could do with his hands were just as amazing as what Pidge could do with software. Often, Shiro found himself in awe in the Yellow and Green Paladins. The way they could manipulate machinery and technology so well was almost as magic to him as everything Altean.

"Good job," he managed, smiling.

The relief of having a way of reaching the castle did not last long.

Silver eyes shifted as Hunk brought up his leg, and then narrowed. AS if, at first, he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was really happening. It was hard in the dim lighting, but it was there. The tell tale sign of bulging armor that meant something was either really broken or really wrong.

Bracing himself, Shiro moved. Managed to get back on his knees. Blinked through the pain until he was closer to Hunk's leg. And he reached carefully. Helping Hunk pull off the plates as carefully as he could. Muttering a soft, "sorry," whenever his touches caused that terrible sound of muffled pain.

The under suite peeled away, and Shiro swallowed the taste of something bitter in the back of his throat.

His jaw clenched, looking over the dark canvas of bruises and crimson blood trapped under skin. Pausing at the misshapen lump that was obviously from the shattered bone. Felt a surge of adrenaline as fear squeezed his insides. Making it even *more* impossible to breathe.

This was bad. Really bad.

"Okay," Shiro managed. It was no good to panic, and he could tell Hunk was on the verge of it. Panicking would only make it worse. And it wouldn't help them solve the problem. They had to focus. "It's okay, Hunk," a pause so he could force a painful sounding breath. "We'll figure it out."

His eyes searched the leg again. Mind trying desperately to race. To find the solution. But he felt like he was grasping at frayed ropes with the fog. He grit his teeth. 

Focus.

"You're right," he said. "That's why I'll have to be your wings."

Shiro was a strong man. A man who was even able to resist Zarkon every time he tried to steal Black from him.

Except, this was Hunk’s hand writing. Hunk was a phenomenal cook. And he was staring into the sweet temptation of cinnamon, sugar, and warmth of a freshly baked plate-full of heavenly sin. 

How could he resist that?