#voltronadam

Oh, the stars watched over everything. The Earth that was inhabited by such primitive creatures had grown up so quickly. From tiny micro-organisms to complex, societal creatures. The stars watched it all, and watched as curious, bipedal creatures grew curious, sent out metal asteroids to say hello to them, near and far.

The struggle that all went through, the stars paid testament to.

Every being under their gaze, went watched, and the stars whispered about them. The sadness of death, the joy of every life.

The ups and downs of every single life rippled through the cosmos.

“I know I can’t stop you, but I won’t go through this again.”

Shiro cringed as he remembered those words, harsh and painful and grating as he thought about it. They were already on the way back to Earth, and as the other paladins chatted about seeing their families again, or perhaps trying to rebuild their lives, Shiro was stuck in turmoil.

Oh, they had talked in the past. About everything. Life, love, their future. Adam had wanted to be wed, to grow old together teaching and training the next generation of pilots. Shiro had wanted to live fast, experience what he could while he could. Before the disease came and struck him down in his prime. Adam had smiled at his lover, leaned over and kissed him with the hundreds of thousands of stars above them to bear witness as he chided him about his philosophy.

“You have plenty of years ahead, Takashi. Don’t speak like that.” Adam, ever the realist, always seemed so much more optimistic when it came to the man he loved.

Shiro had laughed, playfully kissed him, then reminded him that those statistics were there for a reason. “I want to leave my mark on the world, Adam, and I’ll be damned if anything stops me before I do.”

“You’ve already left your mark on me, my love.”

Red faced and laughing, Shiro had rolled on top of him, rubbing noses with him as conversation drifted away to safer topics. Perhaps they should have talked about it more. Perhaps they should have thought about the consequences, but they hadn’t. Young fools that they were, too blind on their race to the top that they failed to notice the cliff that awaited them there - Or to prepare.

“I’ll love you for infinity.” That was their favoured promise, and one that neither had ever imagined would be broken. In the day, their days went by as normal, perhaps stealing a fleeting kiss when they could. Their cold, though caring personalities shone through in their jobs and their dedication. In Shiro’s attempts to save Keith from himself, Adam had stood steadfast beside him. When Shiro was sent away from training, missions, or checkups, Adam sometimes stepped in to guide the wayward young boy towards the right path. The boy had rejected him, called him names and shut himself out to the man, but Adam had persisted. He knew how much saving this kid meant to his beloved, and he wanted to, for Shiro.

Everything was for Shiro.

They understood each other, better than anyone else could.

All the fights that they had, all the arguments, Adam had convinced himself that it was for his sake. He was worried about Shiro, terrified, even. Sure, on Earth Shiro still took risks, always trying to break the records that he himself had set, but well… At least he was here!

Here, safe. Safe, that was it. Adam figured that if anything was out there, there was no way they’d come to Earth, and if they did, he’d rather have Shiro here with him than without. If only.

He thought that by keeping Shiro close, he’d be keeping him safe in a beautiful, gilded cage, large and spacious but still safe. Oh, if only he knew. Staying on Earth only meant clipping Shiro’s wings even more. The disease was slowly killing him, both knew that, and both refused to accept it. Day by day, another feather gone, and he was left to gaze out at the infinite expanse of sky he would never reach.

The only problem was, why couldn’t he see that?

Days before the trip, they had fought. A cruel, bitter argument - Senseless now that Shiro thought about it. What did a small squabble matter when their promise to overcome all other odds was supposed to be stronger?

“What if you die? What then?” Adam had demanded, his temper flaring up as Shiro had refused his desperate, hopeless plea to not go. “Adam, please, it’s not that dangerous,” Shiro had protested, frowning as he spoke. “Really, it’s only a couple of months!”

“A couple of months in which you could /die/, Takashi!” Adam hissed, standing in the doorway to their bedroom. Shiro sat on the bed, head in his hands as he struggled to remind his boyfriend, nay, his fiance, of how much it meant to him to go.

“But I won’t die! I’ll make it! I’ll make it and I’ll come home to you again!” He had protested, his gaze snapping up to look at Adam. The tall, lean man before him never looked more upset, as he turned and slammed his closed fist into the wall beside the door, cracking it ever so slightly. Ah, drywall.

“Worrying about you in that time will kill /me/, instead, Takashi,” He whispered. “I can’t let you go. I can’t risk losing you to your pride!” He snapped. “If it’s really not that dangerous, why not just send that little protege of yours?” He demanded. “Keith is skilled, better than any other pilot we have, except for you! You’ll still get the credit for recruiting him, for training him! Just him g-”

“It’s not about Keith and you know it!” Shiro stood up, hissing as the device on his wrist shocked him, almost, and forced him to take a few deep breaths. Goddamn, it hurt, but he knew it was for his benefit.

One, two…

“Shiro, damn it, are you alright?” Those words brought a wash of familiarity as Shiro felt Adam’s strong arms around him, bringing him back to bed. “This is exactly why you can’t go,” He whispered, his light brown eyes shining with worry. “Please, it’ll only bring sadness. Please, Shiro, stay here. Stay with me, stay here. Everyone needs you. A hundred thousand people could be piloting that mission, just let it go. Once. Please.”

Adam, desperate and broken, knelt by the side of the bed and grabbed Shiro’s hand with both of his own, pressing his forehead to them. “Please, this is your life we’re talking about,” He begged. “Adam, what’s the point in living if you don’t get out there and do new things?” Shiro chuckled, rolling onto his side so he could run his fingers through Adam’s soft, fluffy brown hair.

“Staying with the person you love.”

Shiro’s eyes softened as he grabbed Adam’s hand and tugged him onto the bed, curling up with him once again. “I’ll come back,” He whispered. “I’ll come back and we’ll stay here, alright? We’ll be married and have the family we always wanted.”

Soft, sweet words lulled Adam into reluctant agreement, as he nodded and held him. He knew by that point, that Shiro would never stop. He was a free body. Not a free spirit, no, but a free body. The brunet already knew that Shiro’s soul was as entwined with his as one could possibly be, but his body, his physical self… Shiro was a wanderer. He would never be able to stay still. And yet, Adam held onto some kind of hope, futile as it was.

“Something could happen, Shiro, and I don’t want you to die trying to prove a point,” He whispered, stroking his cheek. Adam’s gaze was less tender now, more desperate, eager to see if Shiro would accept his unspoken ultimatum. Leave the mission, or leave him.

“It won’t.”

Silence, and Adam slowly closed his eyes, rolling away from him. “Then come back safely,” He whispered, though his voice was strained as he spoke. Months of waiting, not knowing if his beloved was alive or dead… He couldn’t handle it.

“So if you decide to go, don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”

Those words had hurt as much then as they did now. Their first argument, the beginning of the end for their romance, was what Shiro had thought.

The night before the mission was due to take off, they had slept on opposite ends of the bed. Sad, lost souls yearning to be together. Yet, no matter what their minds reasoned with them, their pride won out, and Shiro’s last night on Earth was spent cold, alone, and miserable, though warmth was only a few measly feet away.

The next morning, just as he had gone to sleep cold, Adam, like the stars in the rising morning, had disappeared. His bags, his clothes, everything was gone. It was as if their years of romance had been annulled, dissipated into nothing more than a fading fantasy. A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream dreamt together was reality. Perhaps this really was it. This really did mean everything with Adam had been a dream, nothing more.

Too broken to even cry, Shiro had gone to the launch, unaware that a pair of woeful eyes followed him there the whole way.

“God, Shiro, come home safe.”