Fixing Us [Shadam/Adashi Fanfiction] ✳️

Fixing Us

When Hunk began stress baking he hadn't expected Pidge to enter the kitchen. Although their presence was welcomed, Hunk couldn't help being confused when he saw them. Pidge looked defeated, their small frame draped across the table. Their hair spread like a dark halo and Hunk stopped whisking the eggs.

"Everything okay?" Hunk asked. His tone was hesitant, the behavior from Pidge was new and, if he was being honest with himself, a bit scary. Sure Pidge had mopped around the Castle ship when they had their period, groaning and curling around Shiro's prosthetic as he heated it. It was never enough to burn Pidge's skin, and Pidge always made it known how much life sucked.

Hunk's mind gave a dark and fleeting thought- and instead of talking about how much life sucks they've taken to having the life sucked out of them. There was something off. It was too late at night to be considered a rough sleep and it was too early to declare Pidge's zombie-like state the aftermath of a 9 hour nap.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Pidge murmured. Their response was muffled by the table, but Hunk heard it before continuing his baking. He kept an eye on the green paladin.

"Okay, you don't have to. I'm here if you need me, and I'm making your favorites." Hunk decided. Pidge's hands curled to fists, their knuckles resting on the cold metal of the table. Their head pounded and everything hurt. Their stomach made a small growl and made them hate themselves just a little more.

"Was it the dinner with your folks? My dad–" Hunk officially started his nervous rambling. A few wrist flicks, fluffing up the egg mixture and he continued his tangent. "W-well technically he is my uncle, but we called him dad because he was my guardian, could get hard to talk to too. He had this thing where he always thought his way was right."

Pidge lifted their head. Their forehead was covered in red skin, slowly regaining blood as the pressure was released. They sniffled and gave Hunk a pointed look.

"What happened to not having to talk about it?" They asked. They tried their best to keep their voice as deadpanned as possible, but when they spoke the voice that came out was anything but. Pidge winced when their voice cracked in the middle.

Hunk moved to pop chocolate melts into the microwave. As he pressed a few buttons, getting the loud whir of the microwave to fill the silence, he took a seat next to Pidge. He ignored the shrill shriek of the kitchen appliance and put his hand in front of Pidge. His palm laid flat on the counter and Hunk relaxed.

"We don't have to talk about anything, it's okay. But I'm here for you, even if you don't want to use words." Hunk spoke. His tone was gentle and it made his soft aura just a smidge bit softer. Bitterly, Pidge compared his aura to their mom with her stereotypical disappointed mom look. She was never overtaken by anger, "a calm boat in a sea storm" was what their father called her.

Pidge swallowed the lump in their throat. They still felt small, but not in the okay way. Instead of feeling protected and a bit spoiled, they felt like they ate an entire lemon. Skin and all.

With a small sigh they looked over their arms.

"I'm here whenever you need me. Do you want me here, or to leave you be? Touch my hand for my staying." Hunk said. Pidge bit the inside of their lip and let the scent of Hunk take over the table: cinnamon and maple. They felt their shoulders drop, only a centimeter or two, but enough to make them feel just a small bit better.

Pidge took Hunk's hand. They held onto his pointer and middle finger. They squeezed it three times, waiting a second between each for emphasis.

"I felt trapped..." Pidge finally got out. Their mood has gone from wet, hot anger to a sense of betrayal. It was sad, that was for sure, but Pidge couldn't identify a word that fit just how hurt they were.

"You did? Was it when you were with us?" Hunk branched out delicately.

"No, it was when dinner happened." Hunk looked at them as if they were a rabbit caught in a trap. It was almost sympathetic, but not enough to convey pity.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Hunk felt helpless. The entire team had convinced Pidge to go. It was a trap. Hunk thought, with a shiver, that if they had been in space and Pidge went to a dinner like this with some people way worse than their family, it would have gotten them killed.

"Just," Pidge squeezed his hands again, "just stay, please."

"You got it."