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"Keith, sweetie?"
It's those words that make Keith look up, from where he's holed on his bed, a book (The Magical Chronicles of Sven) dangling from his fingertips. Keith knows what's going to happen next. Adam never calls Keith "sweetie," and he's seen that expression of half-pity, half-sadness before. Adam is holding two bags, and Keith knows what they're for. There's a sinking feeling in his gut now, but he knew it was inevitable. Later than he thought it would be (so much later, in fact), but he knew it was bound to happen. But now that it's happening, he can't quite bear to watch it.
("We're sorry we can't keep you." when they mean "We can't keep you because we can't fix you, because of your anger problems, because you can't open up.")
And maybe, he had hoped that he could make Shiro like him enough not to throw him out. Clearly, he couldn't. Keith is having trouble breathing now, and he wonders if Adam will notice, if Adam will care.
("Deep breaths, Keith. Breathe to the rhythm of my counting." It was Adam that taught him this trick, the breathing one, to help calm him down. It was Adam, and now Adam is here, and Keith is feeling hysterical because he's about to lose all of this, and he doesn't think he's prepared yet, and-)
"I'm leaving."
And Keith feels the feeling in his stomach turn to ice, because even though this puts a whole new perspective on things, he knows the end result has to be the same.
(It's his fault. They argue, in the middle of the night when they think he can't hear. Adam's "We can't care for him. We can't even care for ourselves!" and "What about your health, huh, Takashi?" and "You know it's not fair to him." Shiro's "We have to." and "I'm not going to die yet." and "Who else is going to take care of him properly?")
It's his fault.
He knows what he has to do.
"NO! You can't leave. I'll leave. I'll leave. You were here first."
Adam gapes at him, stupefied, and Keith stands up to move, to do something, pack his bags maybe, but Adam stops him in his tracks. His arms go around Keith's body, and he holds him there, in this embrace, for a few seconds.
"Me and Takashi had an argument, Keith. You don't have to leave. It's not about who was here first or not."
"It is!" Keith insists, "You guys argue because of me! I can hear you, you know, when you guys think I'm sleeping."
He can't meet Adam's eyes, but then Adam gently tilts his face so Keith can see, and Adam's eyes look softer and sadder than they have in a long time.
"Oh, Keith. I'm sorry you heard those arguments. Me and Takashi disagree on a lot of things; it's almost surprising that I haven't left long ago." He gives a bitter chuckle, and for some reason, that, more than anything, makes Keith cry. Because it's so very Adam, and Adam is leaving, and even though Shiro will still be here, Adam won't.
(Here's the thing. Shiro is great. Shiro was the one who took him in when nobody else wanted to, who saw something in him when nobody else would even try. Shiro is the one who gets him out of fights, who comes to the principal's office at his school when he gets into them, who helps his injuries. Shiro's the one that can make him laugh, better than anyone else. Shiro is the one who'll race him across the desert, even when he steals the bike. Shiro is his big brother, kind of, and a little bit his hero, too.
But Adam is... Adam's the one who, when his boyfriend took in some random, strange kid, didn't immediately kick him out. Adam's the one who, that one night Shiro was working, tucked him into bed when he was crying. Adam's the one who taught him those breathing exercises, for when he's panicked and scared. Adam's the one who taught him how to fight back, how to punch harder and dodge faster and never, never let them aim at your face. Adam's the one who nags at him, and Shiro, a lot, to eat and to do homework and to sleep. Adam's the one who instituted mandatory family dinner time, and who enforces Keith's curfew. Adam is Shiro's boyfriend, but he's also a bit like a parent figure. Adam treats him like a kid, and even though Keith hates it, he doesn't. It's hard to explain.)
"It's not because of you. Don't ever blame yourself." Adam lets Keith sniffle in his shirt a little more, before gently cupping his face and wiping away his tears. "It's not your fault."
They stand there, hugging, for a little while, before Adam stares straight into Keith's eyes.
"Take care of Takashi while I'm gone, okay? Can you do that for me?"
Keith nods, and Adam ruffles his hair, a small smile on his face.
"This isn't permanent. It's temporary, not forever. But remember to take care of yourself too, okay?"
Adam gives him a small kiss on the forehead, and the gesture is so parent-like, Keith has to hold in a few more sniffles.
"Bye, Red."
(That's Adam's nickname for him, because it sounds like a cat name, and Keith apparently reminds him of a cat. Red is also the color of anger, and Adam likes to tease him, saying it's a fitting name just because of that.)
Keith watches him leave, crossing the familiar path of the hallway, into the kitchen where Shiro looks at him sadly, and out the door, waving goodbye.
It's about the last time Keith sees Adam.
The year after, he's old enough to join the Garrison, and he gets his own dorm. He hears that Shiro and Adam have gotten back together, that they're sharing their rooms after Shiro moved to the Garrison (he doesn't say it, but probably to keep an eye on Keith). And Keith never gets Adam as a teacher, and he never really sees him again.
(But he doesn't think that Adam's presence in his life has ever really ebbed away. Like when Keith does his breathing exercises, that first time in his dorm, alone in the dark. Or when he eats even when he'd rather not, but knows he has to, to take care. Or even when he punches James Griffin on the face, hard, using the technique Adam taught him. Or even when he sometimes finds plates of cooked food on his table, with a sticky-note reminding him to eat and sleep and do homework. Or when he finds Adam's old textbook, which is actually the same as his textbook, on his table. It has notes in the margins, scribbled in Adam's sloppy handwriting, to help Keith understand it better.)
(And after Shiro's alleged death, Adam was the only person he wanted to talk to. But he didn't, because he left in the middle of the night, and Adam didn't know about the shack in the middle of the desert. But when he came back to the Garrison, occasionally to see if there was any further news about Shiro, he heard that Adam was looking for him.
He'd eavesdropped on a conversation, between two other teachers.
"Poor Adam, he hasn't been the same since the news of the Kerberos mission." and "Yeah, it was a big blow on him. Especially since the kid his boyfriend was caring for disappeared." and "A kid? I didn't know that." and "You know Kogane? Adam's still looking for him. He's been asking around, taking leave to drive around the Garrison, looking for him." and "Keith Kogane? Really? If I were him, I'd stop looking now. Not worth it."
Keith agreed with them. But Adam was still looking.)
It's not even like Keith was hoping. He'd filed away his hopes long, long ago, to a place that not even he could reach. But maybe, subconsciously, he had hopes.
It's not even like he had hopes that he would have a family to come back to, on Earth, because it's obvious that he doesn't. The only family he has is with him, now. But maybe there was someone he was hoping he would be able to see.
But Adam's dead.
And Keith is standing on the memorial wall, looking at all of those that have died, and looking at Adam's name on the wall.
And he didn't have hopes, not really. But he still cries, all the same, and regrets.
(It's not even like Keith thought Adam would be waiting for them to come back, that he would be here and that he'd hug the both of them in relief and that maybe, maybe, Keith could introduce his mom, and his new family, and that Adam would say that he was proud. Or rather, he wouldn't say it. But that maybe, he would be, kind of. That he'd smile and pat Keith on the shoulder, and say, "Look where you've gotten to now, all the trouble you're in." with that same, sharp smile.)
(But now, he'll never know.)