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While he’s grateful for the second chance it has given him, sometimes Shiro just… hates his body.
It’s a near-perfect replica of himself, but it still doesn’t feel like it’s his. The shock of white hair. Missing the scars he has vivid memories of, has scars he doesn’t remember getting. Losing an arm twice doesn’t help either.
It’s just like the first time he saw himself after escaping the arena, in Keith’s cracked full length mirror in the shack, only a million times worse. At least he knew that that body was his.
At least that body never tried to kill Keith.
He’s staring at his naked reflection now, with the exact same mirror he used after the first time Keith rescued him. He doesn’t know how long he’s locked himself up in the bathroom, staring at the stranger in front of him.
A sharp knock drags him out of his thoughts. “Shiro? It’s Keith. Are you okay? You’ve been in there a long time.”
Shiro’s eyes turn to the bath that Keith prepared for him, surely cold by now. He feels more guilt rush through him; ever since he woke up Keith hasn’t done anything except helping him, caring for him while he tries to heal, while leaving no time to look after himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I’ll be out soon.”
“Can I come in?”
No, he wants to say. He doesn’t want Keith to see him like this. But he can’t deny him anything either. “Sure.”
The door opens, and Keith slips through. He looks different too. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, longer hair, hardened eyes that always go soft when he looks at him.
He doesn’t miss the scar on his cheek. The scar that he caused while he was trying to kill him.
Keith frowns curiously at the unused bath. “What’s wrong? You need help?”
“No, that’s not it.” Shiro drags his eyes away from Keith and back at his reflection.
“Anything bothering you?” The understatement is almost funny. “You know you can tell me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.”
He knows. He knows he can trust Keith with anything. “I… I just hate it. Looking at myself. It feels like a stranger is looking back at me, someone who’s hurt you over and over. But I can’t stop looking.”
“Shiro, none of that was your fault.”
“I know. And it isn’t the clone’s, either.” He feels his eyes burning, and he raises his head up, trying not to let any tears spill. “It was all that witch’s fault. And I’m scared of her being able to control me with this body.”
Through Black’s eyes, watching Haggar’s weapon deceive and hurt everyone was one awful thing. But the thought of Haggar controlling him, making him lie to everyone, making him try to hurt them, to hurt Keith-
Something warm is clutching at his torso, pressed up against his back. When he looks at the mirror again, Keith is with him, hugging him tightly from behind.
“The witch was using the clone’s arm to control you, and it’s gone now.” He presses a kiss to Shiro’s bare shoulder, and he shudders. He’s forgotten what warmth feels like. What love feels like. “Sorry about that, by the way.”
Shiro laughs. It’s the first time he’s smiled in what feels like years. “You’re forgiven.”
“You are not hers, Shiro. You never were, and you never will be.” Keith’s head is leaning on his shoulder now, cheek pressed against his skin. “And even if your body isn’t originally yours, you are still you. And I’ll love you no matter what form you take, no matter how many times you leave, as long as you keep coming back.”
I love you. There’s a vague memory of Keith saying that, pinned down below him and their blades clashing. A vague memory of the clone briefly breaking out of Haggar’s hold just from that.
Maybe he and the clone are more alike than what meets the eye.
“As many times as it takes, huh?” Shiro asks weakly. He feels Keith nod, kissing his shoulder again.
“As many times as it takes.”
There’s wetness on his cheeks, and he knows his bid to keep himself from crying has failed. There’s so much he wants to say to Keith - I love you too, you’re amazing, I don’t deserve you - but all he can muster is a weak, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Keith steps away from the hug, and Shiro misses his warmth. “Should I stay, or…?”
“Stay.” He feels lost without Keith, now. “Please.”
Shiro can see Keith smile at his reflection. “You don’t even have to ask.”
The water has gone cold when he finally steps into the tub, but he doesn’t mind. Keith sits on the edge, and Shiro rests his head on his thigh once he’s settled in.
There’s peaceful silence as Keith works on washing his hair, although after a while he’s sure that Keith is just trying to make him feel a little better by massaging his scalp.
Underneath this man’s hands, he is home.
“Hey, Keith?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you too.”