Chapter Text
Keith couldn’t think. His head was a dizzy haze, and every blink brought him closer to the brink of passing out. Stumbling backwards, he swiped the back of his hand across his upper lip. His hand was bloody; it was dark, and he didn’t have time to examine it, but he could feel it, wet and warm on his hand, sharp on his tongue when he licked his lips. He barely had time to clench his fists and glare from underneath the hair hanging in his eyes before the fist was coming at him, knuckles bloody like his own. He dodged and landed an uppercut on the guy’s jaw. He took a breath of cool night air in, feeling it rush through his chest. His vision was fuzzy around the edges. He blinked in confusion at the double image in front of him. Two pairs of narrowed eyes, and two glints of steel. Before he could begin to move away, there was a sharp, agonizing pain in his chest.
Keith looked down at the knife plunged into him. Life seemed to slow down, everything coming in fragments. The intense, gritty pain in his chest as the knife slid out. The sound of running footsteps fading into nothing. The smell of blood and dirt. The hair stuck to his cheek. The taste of dirty pennies in his mouth. The world shorted out for a second before he could see again, black sky, and then blurry cobblestones as his head lolled to the side.
He could think now. He was bleeding out in an alleyway, but he could think. This is where it all stopped. Not as a pilot, or a guy with a family, but a stupid, angry, lonely, useless college dropout. Now that the rush of anger had left his system, all Keith felt was fear. Not of being dead—he didn’t believe in God, so he wasn’t worried about ending up in hell—but of dying. He had spent his whole life alone, so why was it so scary to die alone? He had never really thought about how he would go. Live fast, die young? He brought his shaking hands up to touch the wound in his chest. He could feel his consciousness starting to go, the corners of the alley black like a vignette. There was a rush in his ears like the ocean, drowning out the sounds of cars. His eyelids were like weights. He blinked, slowly, the blood dark, dark red on his hands: and then Keith Kogane, 19 years old, former student of Galaxy Garrison, was dead.
***
The metallic taste flooded his mouth and he gulped it down, the blood thick and hot on his tongue. The alleyway was dirty, his grip on the guy’s neck slid with sweat, and there was a muffled bass thumping in his chest like a heartbeat. He dragged his teeth out of the guy’s neck, releasing him and breathing hard. The guy stared at him in a daze, unmoving from where he had been pressed up against the wall minutes before. “Keith.”
The voice jolted the stranger out of his daze, and he scurried away. Keith dragged the back of his hand across his mouth and looked up at Shiro. “Yeah?” His voice was rough and the taste still lingered in his mouth.
“We’re leaving,” Shiro said, heading out of the alleyway. Keith strode after him, finally catching up when he stopped at the parking lot where Allura was waiting.
“Full?” Allura asked, grinning.
Keith scowled back at her. “Full enough.” He straddled his motorcycle. “You riding with me?” he asked, pulling on his helmet.
“I suppose,” she said, climbing on the back and squeezing her arms around Keith’s waist. She turned her head. “See you back at the house Shir-woahhh,” she said, startled, as Keith revved his engine and took off, flying around corners like the speed demon he was. Faster and faster, until all he was aware of was the streetlights blurring in his peripheral and Allura’s arms digging into his sides.
A harrowing (for Allura) 10 minutes later, Keith was cutting the engine in front of the house. He had been living in a brick house in the seedier part of town for about three years, ever since Shiro turned him. He never saw living in a house full of vampires as his future, but here he was, a fucking vampire, living with four other vampires. His human dreams had been flying planes, but now he was sucking blood. Better than working in fast food like the college dropout he was, he guessed.
Allura stumbled off the back of his bike, glaring at him. “I know we can’t die, Keith, but could you at least not try to kill us?” she scolded. Keith ignored her, pushing open the door and walking into the living room to find Acxa flipping through channels on the couch.
“Where’s Kolivan?” he asked.
Acxa rolled her eyes. “Wow, not even a ‘hey’, Red?” Keith huffed at the nickname. Keith was generally a hothead, and he used to be even worse as a human. After witnessing his temper one too many times, Acxa had started calling him Red.
“Hey,” he said flatly, glaring Acxa down. She quirked a smile at him.
“He’s out at some vamp meeting. How was the club?”
“Fine. Got some blood.”
Acxa wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Was he hot?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
Acxa sighed. “Keith, come on. I want to hear some boy drama.”
“There’s boy drama?” Allura asked, flopping onto the other couch and attempting to detangle her hair.
Keith rolled his eyes. “No.” He looked back at Acxa. “You should’ve just came with us, then you wouldn’t have to ask.”
“Nat didn’t feel like going out and I wanted to hang out with her,” Acxa mumbled, a blush rising to her face. Acxa was normally pretty blunt, but anything to do with her girlfriend was a different story. Allura cooed. She was a sucker for romance and was always watching chick flicks.
“Where is Natalie?” she asked.
“She had to work so she already left,” Acxa said.
The door burst open and Shiro walked in, settling onto the couch next to Allura. “Here before me as always, I see,” he said, smiling at Keith. Allura groaned.
“Don’t remind me. I don’t know why I agreed to ride with him.”
“Better than grandpa over there,” Keith said, smiling slightly at Shiro.
“I’m only seven years older than you!” Shiro protested.
“Seven is a lot,” Acxa smirked. “Did you take your pills today, Gramps?”
Shiro sighed. “Yes, mom.”
Keith bit back a smile. Shiro hadn’t always been able to joke around. He had PTSD from when he was captured by vampire hunters back in college. Keith had gone a little crazy when that happened. He didn’t know what he would do without Shiro. Hell, when he didn’t have Shiro he had dropped out of college and almost got killed. Shiro was the only family he had. Him, and Allura, and Acxa, and Kolivan. But Shiro was the one who really got him, the one who was able to put up with Keith’s mood swings and temper.
Acxa hopped off the couch and returned a few minutes later with a straw in her mouth, sipping blood from a cup. “What’s the move tonight?” she asked, swinging her feet over the arm of the couch and laying back.
“Training,” Keith said shortly, getting up from the couch and heading towards his room. He closed the door and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the hook next to the door. He walked towards the closet, pulling off his shirt and pants on the way. He tugged on black athletic pants and a black shirt. His entire closet was basically all black, and he hadn’t bought any new clothes since he had become a vampire. Even as a human, he had been constantly slinking around at night like the delinquent he was, wearing all black. Now he could only go out at night, and black was a stereotypical vampire color anyway. Call it fate.
Fully dressed, Keith walked out of his room and to the living room, where he leaned against the doorway. No one had moved. Keith sighed. “Shiro?” he asked.
Shiro looked up from the laptop he was peering at over Allura’s shoulder. “Give me a second.”
Keith blew out a breath, making his bangs flutter. That reminded him. He went back to his room to grab a ponytail and put his hair up as he walked down to the basement, where their makeshift training room was. Allura was always on some new age shit, insistent that if they bonded together, they would be able to protect each other better. Acxa and Kolivan were more “bite first, ask questions later.” Keith liked to think that they cared enough to worry about saving more than just their own skins, but one mission Keith had been on had proved that to be a foolhardy hope, at least in regards to Kolivan. They had been working with another vampire group, trying to save some of the group’s members who had been captured by hunters, when there had been a close call. Too close for Kolivan, who had immediately ordered that they evacuate. One of the guys on the mission with them was still held back, fighting with a hunter, and Keith had gone back to help him out. They both made it out, but Kolivan had reprimanded him for it afterwards, insisting that Keith not let emotions interfere with their missions. “Victory or death,” he said.
Keith really didn’t consider himself to be emotional. Well. He was angry all the time. But that was basically his only emotion. But come on, he had thought there was at least some sort of moral code to trying to save people other than just yourself. He didn’t think Kolivan realized his motives for it though. Kolivan seemed to think Keith had some sort of benevolent urge to save this dude that he had just met that day, but Keith had a different code he adhered to. It wasn’t that he saw the guy’s life as important, exactly, but that he saw his own as equally or less important. Sure, Kolivan believed in victory or death. Keith? He believed in sacrificing the few to save the many. And knowing himself, and exactly what he was worth, Keith would rather be the few.