Word Count: 2,063
Keith felt numb.
Detached.
Gone.
However you wanted to say it.
It had only been hours when he finally convinced himself to get up, and that was only because it began to rain like nothing else, and he was shivering so bad he couldn't stand it any longer.
He didn't remember making his way to an abandoned building that had still been fairly intact.
He didn't remember curling up on his side in the closest room he could find, his fingers still numbly clutching the gun in his hands.
He didn't remember killing her, watching her be filled with life one moment and gone the next
Maybe if he repeats it enough, he'll finally believe it.
...
He awoke to voices.
Loud ones.
And quickly getting closer.
Cursing under his breath, Keith scrambled from his position on the floor, almost tripping over the forgotten bag of scavenged supplies he had thrown by his exit the night before. His fingers soundlessly touched the door, his breath going still as he strained to listen to what was happening on the other side of the cracked open slab of wood he was currently pressed against, mind running with the question of fight or flight, fight or-
"Pidge, we can't just wander into every building you feel the need to explore, there could be zombies in here."
"Undead, Lance."
"Yeah, whatever, you know what I mean, the undead could be hiding in here, waiting to jump us you know how much they don't like getting out in sunlight, I wouldn't blame them either, I mean, can you blame them? Just, the smell, gross."
Keith couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes at the voice. He doubted zombies cared much about how they smelled, although he did notice that the city was relatively clear when the sun wasn't obscured by clouds.
"It's cloudy outside, all of the undead will probably be out in the city roaming around, especially after that rain last night." The sound of footsteps grew nearer.
"Whatever. But Allura and Coran sent us out to be looking for supplies, not poking around useless buildings that clearly don't have anything we could use." As if to emphasize his point, the sound of something kicked across the ground was heard, painfully loud in his ears. If they were this noisy all the time, Keith was surprised they weren't dead yet.
"This clearly used to be a hospital, Lance, besides, any medicine we can find in here can help with my experiments, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, when was the last time you actually had results on something?"
"A few days ago actually, and if you help me look, I'm sure we can find something for your cut."
A few beats of silence, and then: "I- I didn't think about that."
"See, I told you so." Keith could hear the voice he guessed was Pidge, smirk.
The voice identified as Lance groaned, "Fine, but I'm still asking our commanding officer on his opinion, what do you think we should do, Shiro? You are the babysitter after all."
Shiro? His heart jumped to his throat at the name, his mouth suddenly going dry. Shiro couldn't be alive. Keith had seen him die, he remembered him falling off a building, there was no way he could have survived. It couldn't be his Shiro.
It had to be someone else.
"It won't hurt to at least look around, who knows? We may get lucky."
If the mention of his name knocked Keith off his feet, his voice sent him to a whole other reality. Keith felt like he was breathing through a pinched straw as the new voice met his ears, deep and comforting. Keith had grown to know that voice. The same voice that he learned to trust, the same voice that never left his dreams no matter how hard he fought it, the same voice he was convinced he'd never hear again.
It was Shiro's voice, Keith couldn't mistake it even if he wanted to.
It was him.
It was really him.
"Ha! See, Shiro says it's a bad idea."
"No he didn't and we're already in the building, dufus, it can't hurt to look around."
A groan, "Fiiiine, but if we run into a horde, I'm blaming you."
Keith shrunk back further from the cracked door as shadows of at least three people grew closer to his hiding place. "And not meaning to be rude or anything, Shiro, but I don't think you should be the one talking about luck. Pidge, do you remember when we first met him?"
Pidge snorted, "Of course, how could I forget."
Shiro chuckled, "Alright, you two have a point. I'll admit, I haven't exactly been very lucky these past few years."
Keith's brows furrowed at the sentence. What happened? How did these people find him? Where did they find him? How was Shiro even here? Those were some questions he didn't have the answer to, and Keith's head ached with even the attempt of trying to figure it all out.
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to think much of it, because before he could jump back to avoid the inevitable, the door swung open, smacking Keith in the head in the process, hard.
With a small grunt, he fell back onto the floor, looking up at the three figures that now towered over him with equal looks of surprise on their faces.
The one closest to him was small, and if Keith had to guess they were about fifteen at the youngest. Large, wire-rimmed glasses framed hazel eyes and a handful of freckles dusted the bridge of their nose, and if Keith had to guess against the equally short honey-colored hair, he was pretty sure he was looking at a girl. The boy standing next to her couldn't have been any older than he was, his skin was a light dark-ish brown like he spent every day out in the sun. His hair was a slightly lighter tan and cut short against his head. He was tall and lanky, which wasn't surprising in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. A makeshift bandage crossed over his left cheek, specks of blood dotting the fabric, and Keith realized that might've been what they had been talking about earlier.
But the person that really drew his attention was Shiro.
He had changed so much since he had last seen him.
To start off, Keith noticed with a slight sinking feeling in his chest that Shiro's right arm was gone, in its place was nothing but a small stump of where it once had been. His hair wasn't quite as he remembered it. His ridiculous haircut was still there, but it was almost like his forelock had been dyed white, contrasting greatly with the rest of his dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. And, Keith noticed with a slight frown, there was a single but thick scar that now ran across the bridge of his nose.
The tan boy, Lance, if he had to guess his name was the first to get over the surprise of bumping into him. "Um, sorry about that," he offered a hand, and Keith took it gratefully, getting back up to somewhat wobbly feet eyes still glued to the man standing in front of him.
"Shiro?"
Shiro's eyes widened at his name as he took Keith in, looking from the tips of his boots up to his face, brows going up in surprise. But as soon, as Keith's hope rose, it fell just as fast as Shiro's look grew into one of confusion instead of surprise before finally speaking, "I- I'm sorry, I don't- I don't know you."
Keith's suddenly felt sick.
"But- no. How do you not remember? Shiro, it's me-"
It's Keith, as hard as he tried his mouth couldn't form the words.
The girl, Pidge, which he had honestly forgotten was standing with them, sucked in a breath, eyes going wide behind her glasses as she looked between Keith and Shiro, "Wait, you know this guy?"
Keith bit his lip and met eyes with the younger girl and nodded a minutes later, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. Ever since yesterday, it felt like his life was slowly plummeting and he couldn't do anything but watch it crash and burn.
He didn't need an explanation for what was going on in front of him, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Shiro didn't remember who Keith was.
Granted, he never pictured what their reunion would look like, all of this time, he had thought Shiro had died, and here he was alive with no memory of who Keith was.
He wasn't sure which one was worse, the one person in his life he saw as a brother dead, or alive with no recollection that Keith even existed.
He was gonna be sick.
"Look, I'm not really sure, what is exactly going on here, but, do you-- I don't know-- want to come back to our base, so we can figure all of this out?" Lance spoke up, and Keith resisted the sudden urge to punch the guy, now wasn't the time for one of his uncontrolled snaps. "I mean, judging from the fact that you were probably sleeping in an abandoned hospital, you don't have anywhere else to go, right?"
"Lance," Pidge hissed, "You don't just randomly assume he doesn't have anywhere else to go, he might have someone waiting for him."
As much as Keith wanted that to be true, it wasn't, not anymore, not since-
"Yeah," Keith spoke up, eyes reverting to the floor to avoid, Shiro's still sympathetic gaze in his direction, and the haunting memory in the back of his mind, "Yeah, that's- it's fine. I don't have anywhere else to go."
Pidge sent him a look that told him she understood before quickly turning around to the two still standing behind her. "Alright, guys, the scavenge is canceled, we're showing this guy to our base."
Lance grinned, shooting a hand out in Keith's direction, "Welcome aboard, the name's Lance if you're wondering." Lance shot him a smile, and Keith, after pausing for a second, gave the boy's hand a firm shake.
"And I'm Pidge," the girl said, too busy with picking up Keith's discarded pack on the ground and slinging it over her shoulder to give a handshake, "and I guess you already know who Shiro is."
The man nodded a hello, fixing him with a smile, but Keith could tell it was strained.
Some feeling of hurt twisted in his gut, sharp and white hot, but he ignored it. Yes, he was hurt, Keith was aware of at least that much, but he didn't know how to deal with it either, so instead of forcing himself to meet the gaze of the man that now knew nothing about him, he chose to fix his eyes to the ground, it'd be easier for both of them as he followed the small group out the door, and he tried to grasp what his next move could possibly be.
Keith would follow them for now, who the heck knew where it would lead him from there, but for at least right then, he would keep his distance, and try to find as many answers as he could as to why Shiro had no memory of Keith ever existing.
His gut twisted again as he caught sight of the back of Shiro's head as they walked out into the street, his fists clenched in his pockets, and he bit his lip to keep himself from spouting off questions. How did you get here? What happened to you? Why don't you remember me?
This questions swirled in his mind and he wanted to ask them so badly, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted them answered. He looked at Shiro's missing arm and shoved his fists deeper into his pockets, the sheath of his katana bouncing against his back as he walked.
If he looked far enough to his left, he could see the body of a girl on her back, dead in the middle of the street, face meeting the sky with a pool of blood forming a macabre halo around her, a bullet hole dead-center through her forehead.
He hoped it wasn't an omen for the future.