Break Bad

just...go. Don't come back.

_____________________________________________
July 31st, 2:44Pm.

Keith sat in the chair by his hospital bed. Lance sat in the chair next to him, and Shiro stood across from them, his arms crossed, his face losing the shadow of a smile that was there a moment ago, as he switched again from brother, to deputy.

Shiro cleared his throat.
"So... Zach is wanting to press charges."

Keith nodded.
"Figured as much."

"But, in his apartment we also found...plenty of substances. He claimed they were yours, but I don't think a judge will believe that you broke in, attacked him, and then unloaded two large boxes full of Ketamine and Morphine off of your motorcycle, and into his place."

Lance squeezed Keith's hand. "So, what does that mean for Keith?"

"Well, Zach has a record, Keith... technically speaking, does not. Zach has past offenses, Keith does not. The knife was Zach's, and the from what we can tell, Keith was stabbed first."

Keith nodded.
"He drew it on me. It was just a fair fist fight before then."

Shiro held up a hand. "The argument for self defense can go either way. You broke into his place, Keith. But, you were also suffering from a stroke at the time, and if you were under the influence of any drugs that may affect your mental state, you could go for a temporary insanity plea."

"But, doctor patient confidentiality won't tell you if I was 'under the influence ' right?"

Shiro nodded. "Right. So, you admit to doing hardcore stuff, and maybe the aggravated assault with a deadly weapon gets dropped to just aggravated assault. But you get another drug charge. And thats not to mention the McLains."

Keith looked at Lance. Lance dropped his head. "My parents, um, called in a burglary."

Keith dropped his shoulders, and looked at the floor. "Fucking world is dog piling me, huh?"

Shiro took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Keith, you're facing years in prison. I think...maybe you should..."

Keith didn't look at him.
"What, kill myself?"

Lance slapped his shoulder. "Keith!"

Keith shrugged.
"I'm not serious Lance...but I'm fucked."

Shiro shook his head.
No, I....I have been assigned to look after you. I guess I'm the security guard making sure you don't run."

"Great." Keith said flatly. "I feel better already."

Shiro leaned against the wall, and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second, before lifting his gaze to Keith, though Keith still didn't meet it.

"Keith, just...go. Don't come back.

Now Keith looked up at him.
"What?"

"Go. Leave. You're truck is outside. I came up with an excuse to put your belongings in it so we could thoroughly search your apartment. So just get in the truck, and leave."

Keith could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Shiro, you want me to go on the run?"

Shiro let out a huff.
"Keith, you're facing decades, here! I don't want you to rot in a cell when you might be right at a turning point in your life!"

Keith fell back in his chair, staring wide eyed at Shiro. Lance looked between them.
"Keith?" Lance asked.

Keith looked over at him.
"Are you suggesting it too, Lance?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't...want to lose you again. If you go to prison, I will lose you."

Keith looked away, looked at Shiro, then Lance again. He looked around for an answer, an escape besides this.