A Brief Enquiry Into Klance Disorders

Intermittent Explosive Disorder (Keith)

Intermittent explosive disorder involves repeated, sudden episodes of impulsive, aggressive, violent behaviour or angry verbal outbursts in which you react grossly out of proportion to the situation.

"Another fight. Really?" Shiro's eyes thinned as he glared at Keith. The other boy stepped backwards, keeping his expression unreadable so that Shiro couldn't see he was lighting a fire inside his chest. "This is your second one this week. It's Wednesday!"

"I know..." Keith muttered; he sounded ashamed which he wasn't. He had started a fight for a good, valid reason.

"It just... isn't good enough. When I prevented you from getting kicked out of the school, I expected you to clean up your act. At this rate, you'll get kicked out again and I won't be able to do anything about it. You do want to go to the Garrison, right? So many kids would do anything to be in your position and you're willing to throw it away just like that?"

"It's not my fault the school is full of dickheads who think they're better than everyone else." Keith leant up against the wall, his hands deep inside his pockets. His hair which most described as emo was flat against his face, covering up one of his eyes. Keith didn't even bother standing up and facing the situation like an adult: he was adamant that he had done the right thing.

"Keith. You sound like one of those people right now. You do not fight people. You have to be the bigger person and turn away."

"I can't help being angry! You're telling me I shouldn't fight people who are beating other, weaker people up? That's wrong and-"

"That makes you just as bad as them! You're the one beating people up!"

"Fuck you!" Keith screamed, his entire body trembling. His anger was bubbling to the surface, ready to explode all over again. "You don't understand! When I see the more fragile, innocent kids being spat at and beaten up, I can't just leave them. I know how shit that feels! I just need to give the bullies a taste of their own medicine!" His face had become the colour of a tomato and his hands had escaped his pockets so that they could clench into fists. Shiro backed up, holding his hands out in front of him.

"You should tell the teachers, Keith..." Shiro's voice softened, obviously trying to tempt Keith away from another fit of rage. It was too late.

"They don't do shit!"

"Not if you don't tell them what's going on!"

"I'm going out."

"Keith, no. You're not-"

"You can't stop me!" Keith stormed out of the house and slammed the door so hard that the house shook. He was seething. His breathing was heavy and he was desperate to punch something- or someone. He was lucky that there wasn't anybody around or he'd have picked a fight with a random stranger. His phone started to aggressively buzz in his pocket once he got to the end of his street so he pulled it out. Lance's caller ID was covering the screen. Decline. Keith knew that Lance would know Keith had ignored him but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Storming into another street, his footsteps were heavy. Whenever he stepped into the odd puddle, the water would splash up the bottom of his skinny jeans. Mud coated his ankles but he didn't care. He turned down a random alleyway, not caring that it looked like the kind of area where drugs would be sold. Eventually, he reached a dead end. It was just Keith and a wall. They might as well have been standing inside a boxing ring as Keith raised his hand and punched it as hard as he possibly could. Pain surged through his knuckles and up his wrist but the opponent wasn't down yet. Keith stepped backwards, breath hitching as he slammed his fist back into the bricks a second time.

His phone buzzed again and Keith planned on ignoring it again as he struck out his foot to kick the wall. He let out a loud grunt, the pain running through his entire body like an electric current. The peculiar concoction of anger and adrenaline was numbing it but that didn't mean Keith's wrist and foot didn't feel like they were on fire. When the phone persisted, Keith swiped on the screen to answer it. "Can you just fuck off?!" He snapped, consequences at the back of his mind. He didn't care about anything besides the fire in the pit of his chest.

"Keith? Shiro just called me and said you walked out. Where are you? Are you safe?" Lance asked, his voice laced with concern. It went right over Keith's head.

"I'm safe. I just need to be alone right now."

"Where are you?"

"Who fucking cares?"

"I do. I can meet you and help you-"

"Don't you fucking dare." Keith growled, sounding more like an animal than a human being. His foot found its way towards the wall again and he groaned loudly.

"Keith, you need to breathe. Being angry doesn't help anything. Find somewhere to sit down and do the exercises your therapist told you about. You aren't thinking rationally." Keith huffed before walking- it was more of a limp- towards the opening of the alley again. He sat down on the step of the first house he came across before putting his head in his hands and trying to focus on his breathing. Since some of the adrenaline had passed, the pain of his foot and knuckles had hit him hard, like the wave of a large tsunami. He inhaled deeply, counting the seconds in his head. One, two, three, four. He exhaled. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. "You're doing really good. Just stay there for me, okay?"

"Fuck off. I'm not a child." Keith murmured. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...

"Can you tell me where you are now?"

"I- I'm by that pizza restaurant a couple streets away from my house."

"Okay, love, I'm on my way. Just keep doing the exercises for me, okay?"

Drinking game: take a shot every time Keith swears in this one shot. I bet you'd be drunk before the end of the first paragraph.