Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Keith shoved his favorite pair of socks into the worn gray duffle bag, the socks were black and seamless. They were his favorite cause they didn’t cause his feet to feel angry and overwhelmed by texture. But he didn’t have the time to focus on such luxuries as the one good pair of socks that he owned. Today he had to go back to his foster father for winter break. A whole two weeks of hell awaited him.
Wrapping his knife in a t- shirt he shoved the bundle down to the bottom of the bag. And threw his few pairs of pants over the top. As he tucked in his other shirts he took a moment to appreciate the last day of being pain free. Dave wasn't a kind man, and only got worse when drunk, which he often was.
But unfortunately for his un bruised body, the bell rang. And he zipped the bag closed. First Keith needed to say goodbye to Shiro and Adam like he had promised. Then the trouble began.
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Shiro was worried, Keith always avoided talking about his home life, but he knew he was in foster care. It didn’t sound like the best environment for a headstrong teenager with all of Keith’s issues. Or anyone for that matter. From their first meeting Shiro was worried for the boy. He stole his car and feared punishment beyond juvie. He had a feeling he was expecting to be hit, and that scared Shiro.
Over the first semester Shiro had taken the kid under his wing. Helped him with homework as he had trouble understanding instructions, and was amazed at Keith’s talent and effort. He was honestly such a good kid, but it was obvious that the system had beaten him down over time. He just needed some help. And Shiro was in a position to provide that support.
His boyfriend Adam stood next to him as they waited for Keith by the bus stop that would take the boy home. It was a two week break and the two wanted to say goodbye. Adam had gotten used to the vaguely little brother-like presence of Keith in their life. It had been a little hairy at first but now Adam helped Keith with his math homework.
Shiro lost in his concerned thoughts hadn't noticed Keith until he poked him in the arm. Shiro smiled and patted the kid's shoulder. “Hey Keith, you all packed up?” “Yeah, I’ve got everything Shiro.” “Remember you can call us anytime,” Adam reminded. He was worried as well.
Keith nodded and they fist bumped as the kid wasn’t a huge hugger. He did the same for Adam and boarded the bus. Shiro just hoped Keith would be ok, but he had his number and they would check in every few days. It would be OK. Adam squeezed his hand in reassurance, yeah it would be OK.
-
It would not be ok. The bus trip wasn’t necessarily long, but it gave the young hotshot time to think about the next two weeks. It wouldn’t be the worst time of his life, but he’d probably gone a little soft after spending time away from the system. Even if that time away was a military environment. Shiro and Adam had shown him kindness he’d never known, and Dave would probably make him regret that.
Keith sat in the back wringing his gloved hands, and lightly shaking his leg. He glanced at his lower calf where a small scar stretched, that was from the summer. He’d come home late with the groceries and gotten pushed into a pile of beer bottles for it. He wondered if the scar would ever fade. They rarely did.
The cars around them set dust and sand flying into the air, it was a short trip through the desert to the nearest town. Most of the staff lived on base in garrison issued houses. The only exception being the Holt family. Shiro had told him about them, they were bright, energetic geniuses. Plus they had a dog named Bae bea. They sounded nice to Keith. He’d always wanted a dog.
The bus winded through town dropping kids off, Keith was the last one off, that was probably for the best. The other kids didn’t need another thing to bother him about, like how run down Dave’s house was. The concrete steps were stained and chipped, a few shingles were missing. The lawn was long and yellow, weeds snaking into the sidewalk cracks. The gray paint was flaking off weathered wooden walls. In all it was a dismal picture. And Keith was sure it only looked worse on the inside, it always did.
Some might think that the system wouldn’t let a kid live in such dismal conditions, but Dave just played the part of the overworked foster parent dealing with a difficult child. He only fostered for the beer money anyway. Keith could handle Dave, at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he slung his bag over his shoulder and hopped off the bus, not saying goodbye to the driver. It didn’t matter anyway, it wouldn’t stall the inevitable.
Keith made his way to the front door, careful not to step on the sidewalk cracks out of a sense of normalcy. A habit from childhood that he never shook off. He could hear behind him the bus take off. There goes my last escape, might as well be this over with. He knocked timidly, the wood echoed and he heard the TV pause. Fuck. He was starting to regret his decision to not hide in an alley for the whole break when the door swung open.
Towering over him was a 6 foot white guy with an unshaven beard and overgrown crew cut. The stench of alcohol reeked from the man, and his scowl sent icy shivers down Keith’s spine. But the boy stood his ground, too proud to cower. The man’s eyes gleamed cruelly, and he huffed, obviously irritated that Keith had the nerve to show up. Even though he literally had to per garrison code. “Back already brat?”
Dave kicked the door open a bit further and stepped back allowing Keith to enter cautiously. He could feel Dave practically breathing down his neck, scanning for any reason to hurt him, like always. At least he was predictable, unlike previous fosters who acted nice and then kicked him in the gut once he let his guard down. Dave mainly just ignored him, unless he was angry, and unfortunately the man had a worse temper than Keith. And alcohol set it off, as did any minor inconvenience, like the kid he fostered.
“Get out of here, you’re making me miss the game brat!”
Keith complied, scurrying up the stairs past the grimy bathroom and into his own room. It was small, the walls painted a fading cream, there was a small bloodstain on the wall. The bed was just a dusty mattress on the floor and a scrappy blanket and pillow. Home sweet home. He shut the door behind him very quietly and tiptoed to the bed, carefully sitting down as not to annoy Dave.
In front of him loomed the closet, like the bedroom door it had a lock on the outside. He had been locked in that cramped space with no food or water enough times to be wary of it. There had been quite a few long stretches of being cramped in there so he didn’t cause trouble. Not that he was really being destructive in the first place, just existing. But Dave was never a big fan of that either, no one really was.
Except maybe Adam and Shiro. They seemed to tolerate him, maybe even care about him. Keith hadn’t wanted to care about them, but Shiro was like the big brother he never had, not the foster ones at least. And they never had a choice in the system. But Shiro took him under his wing and helped him out when he was confused. Adam even helped him with homework.
Keith remembered when they all went to Sonic together after he passed a big test he had been worried about. The ice cream machine hadn’t been working, apparently it never did, Adam said it was a running joke, they had all laughed about it. Keith had eaten fries and a burger and they even bought him an icee. That had been a good night.
It was still late morning but when Keith was ‘home’ he never had much use for being awake. He didn’t have any schoolwork to catch up on, he didn’t own any books. So he just laid down and tried to drown out the sound of the Tv downstairs. Maybe he could forget he existed for a little while. He had gotten quite good at blocking out the world. He closed his eyes and everything faded away.