Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith never knew a time when he hadn’t had it rough.

He never even knew his parents, as he had been abandoned at the doorstep of the Takashi family, who raised him as his own. He was 5 at the time, but had no idea how he even got to their door. That was over 10 years ago, long before Mr. and Mrs. Takashi were killed in a drive-by shooting.

That kind of thing happened a lot in Keith’s neighborhood. You see, he wasn’t exactly upper class. Or middle class, for that matter. After his adoptive parents died, the only other person he had was Shiro, his older (adoptive) brother. Shiro had to take over and provide for both him and a seven year old Keith. Now, Shiro wasn’t even technically an adult yet, as he was only 16 going on 17, but the landlord turned the other cheek so it was fine. Shiro had to get a full time job to support them both at the local diner, where he was a waiter.

Keith spent most of his days hanging out in a booth in the diner, coloring or doing something while he waited for Shiro to finish his duties. Shiro had friends, and one would help to watch Keith and teach him the alphabet and numbers and such. But Keith would mostly wind up by himself, kicking the seat of the booth, watching all the cars and people go by.

One day, he was doing the usual, when something caught his eye. It was a fancy black Mercedes. You hardly see those where Keith lived, and if you did, they were usually in the dump, rusty old shells of what they used to be. As Keith looked at the shiny black finish, one of the windows started to roll down.

In it he saw a boy, with brown hair and skin a lighter shade of it. He was… pretty. As Keith stared at him, the boy caught his eye and smiled. Keith, with wide eyes, continued to stare, until the mercedes pulled away, with the smiling boy waving goodbye.

Keith continued to stare long after it had left. He wondered who the boy was. He was obviously of a higher class, and he seemed to be Latino or something. There was something about him... that just made Keith want to go to the ends of the earth with him, and without a doubt follow him wherever he went. Keith felt a sense of longing... but that was silly, he'd probably never see that boy again... or would he? One could hope...

Chapter Text

Fast forward 10 years later.

It’s the same street, but the diner is no longer there, shut down years ago. Its boarded up windows stare longingly at anyone who passes by it, hoping someone would transform it back to its original glory. No one did.

Walk down the street, take a left turn, walk some more, and you’d reach the park. Well, park is an exaggeration. It’s more of a plot of land with yellow grass and a broken swing set. There’s something that looks like it could be some monkey bars, but it’s too rusted and beaten to tell. A solitary park bench, with a solitary figure on it. The figure shifted a little in his seat, turning to face the setting sun. The light illuminated his dirty face, sharp and beaten from all his years in the streets. This was Keith, now 17.

He let out a small sigh. The sunset reminded him of his parents. He didn’t know why, maybe it was the warmth of the sun that felt like his mother’s tender hugs, or its watchful eye of his father’s.

He stretched out on the bench and got up from it. It was about time for him to head back, or Shiro would get worried. He got worried at everything. Keith’s grades at school, Keith getting into fights, Keith getting arrested, Keith not coming home. Every day when Keith had just set one foot into the house, Shiro would come at him with a barrage of questions about how his day was.

How was school? Did you get into a fight? How are your grades? Did you get any homework?

He walked to his apartment building, mentally preparing himself for the bombardment of questions that will inevitably come. He smiled. Even though Shiro could be such a mom sometimes, Keith was grateful someone cared about him. It was a little disheartening when almost everyone at school and in the neighborhood hated him. It was probably because of his mom. His real mom. Some people said she was a monster. Keith didn’t even know how they knew that, but some said they saw her placing him on the Takashi’s doorstep. He highly doubted they did.

Anyway, Keith opened the door to the building, and then began going up the stairs to his apartment. He finally reached the top of the stairs and turned into the hallway that led him to it. He reached the door, but something was odd. It was slightly ajar, which was weird because Shiro would never leave it open like that. Another thing that was unusual was that there was no light coming in from the apartment.

Still, Keith thought none of it and stepped into the apartment. It was dark. Keith fumbled around for the light, and then cursed as he realized it was on the other side of the living room. He tried to walk to it, but something knocked into his side, winding him. He rubbed his stomach, quietly cursing under his breath.
“What the fuck?” He swore. He felt the object with one hand, and he deduced that this hard object was made of wood, and was probably his dining room table. Yep, it even had the bottom of one leg missing. Keith grew worried. What was the table doing like that? He felt his way around the table, making sure that he didn’t hit anything else on his way to the light switch.

He felt the wall, and also, what seemed to be a new hole in it. (Yes, at one point, Keith had made a hole in the wall, from playing with a toy sword as a child.) Keith grew increasingly worried. A flipped table and a new hole in the wall. He finally found the light switch and flicked it.

He let out a gasp. The apartment was a mess. As he noticed before, the table was flipped. So were most of the chairs, and the blinds on the window were torn. Furthermore, there was glass all over the floor, and on the glass there was red stains of… he didn't want to think about what was on the glass.

This was bad. Very bad.
“Shiro? Shiro!” He called. Keith was sure someone had come into the house and ransacked the entire place, hurting his brother in the process. Whoever did this must have gotten in through the door, bursting in and overpowering Shiro, banging him around the apartment and wrecking the whole place. But Keith had to find Shiro. If he couldn’t… he wouldn’t know what to do.

Keith choked back a sob. Where was his brother? Where would he be after a robbery? Keith dashed to the bedroom he and Shiro shared. He kicked open the door and cried, “Shiro!”
But Shiro wasn’t there. Nor was he in the bathroom, the kitchen, or behind the couch in the living room, or anywhere.

Now Keith really cried. Sobs racked his body, while he clutched desperately at the red leather jacket that Shiro had given to him for his last birthday. Where had he gone? Who did this? Why did they do this? Keith cried until the night settled in on the town, and when he was all worn out, sleep washed over his tired body and aching heart.

Chapter Text

Morning came. And in a different part of the town, better known as the “rich kid neighborhood,” where many socs made their home, someone awoke.
Lance had a headache. A splitting, throbbing, agonizing one.
“Ugggghhhhhhhhhhhh….”
It hurt to even open his eyes.
That was one heck of a party.
After a while, he finally did crack his eyes open. He surveyed the scene. Red solo cups everywhere, beer spilled on the floor and furniture, tables overturned, and of course, the occasional passed out teenager.
To his side, his best friend Hunk Garrett began to stir. As he woke, he was greeted with the sight of a absolutely, totally wasted Lance.
“I am so glad I didn’t have any alcohol last night. You look bad dude.”
Lance groaned.
“My skin is going to be shot to hell. Where are my glasses?”
“Under the sofa. Oh, uh, well where the sofa was.”
Lance sighed. Good thing his parents weren't coming home for a few days.
“Hunk you have to help me clean uuuuuup.”
Hunk grumbled. “Why do I have to?”
“Because I have a splitting headache and I need to get this cleaned before monday. Also, where is Pidge?”
“He’s probably on the roof or in the washing machine. I’ll go look.”
“I swear to god if he had any alcohol I’m going to beat his tiny little pigeon ass. I can’t believe he snuck in.”
Hunk rolled his eyes. “Riiiiiiiight. And I suppose you yelling at him to crawl through the mail slot was his own doing?”
Lance glared at him as he finally found his glasses and fumbled to put them on. “I was half drunk at the time. I was completely irresponsible for my actions. Go get pidge”
Hunk sighed and tripped over a small body. Not a dead body, but it sure was close to it. It snapped at him and bit his foot.
“OOOOOH MY GOD LANCE THERE'S A RABID CAT IN YOUR HOUSE!” He screamed girlishly.
The “cat” sat up and put its glasses on. Their hair was disheveled, clothes on backwards, and they were also completely fucking wasted.
“Hunk if you scream any louder I will reach into your throat, tear out your vocal cords and make noodles out of the filaments.”
Hunk calmed down and said “Oh, never mind. It’s just Pidge.”
Lance looked over. “Good. make him work.”
Pidge huffed. He began to pick up the solo cups and assorted trash. Hunk got to work moving all the heavy furniture. And Lance made sure that any other unwelcome guests were kicked out of the house.
About 2 hours later, the house looked slightly better.
“Hunk, did we febreze all the couches? I don’t want my dad to come home and smell Heineken on his favorite armchair.”
“Yup, done.”
“And did we kick out every single passed out body?”
“Yes Lance.”
“Oh! And what about-”
“It’s ok, we did everything.”
Lance let out a satisfied sigh and started to walk over to the kitchen to get a drink of some sorts, when his phone buzzed with the ringtone of “Single ladies”.
He scrambled to pick it up as Pidge glared disapprovingly.
“Hello you’re speaking to the the one and only Lance McClain, how may I help you?”
The person on the other end of the phone spoke rapidly, and Lance’s face quickly turned from his usual grin to a pale expression.
“Yes. I understand. Is she coming? Oh, that’s a relief. She might be the only person that can help us. Yes, I know. No, they’re here with me. Ok. See you in a bit.”
As he hung up the phone, he turned towards Hunk and Pidge with a grave expression on his face.
“That was Coran. Shiro’s gone missing.”

Chapter Text

Keith awoke with a pounding headache. His eyes were almost glued shut from all the dried and salty tears that caked his eyelids. He took a ragged breath and struggled to sit up. His chest felt constricted, like bandages wrapped too tight on a painful gash inflicted recently enough to ache with a dull pain. It felt like he could burst out sobbing again. He steeled himself and tried to tell his heart that he was done crying.
Somehow he felt like he was lying.

Cold water splashed against the sink’s concave surface and against Keith’s greasy face. He gripped the sides of it. He glared at his reflection, glared at how weak he was, glared at how he couldn’t be there to help Shiro. He spit in the sink, as if to show his contempt at this hopeless situation. He was gonna find Shiro.
Even if it killed him.

10 minutes later, Keith is already out of the apartment, not even bothering to clean up the mess. All that was on his mind was that he had to find Shiro as fast as possible and bring him home, so that everything could go back to normal. Keith didn’t even stop to think about how he was going to do all that, and the realization that he had no idea where to start finally kicked in after he dashed out into the street. He cursed quietly and stopped to think about where Shiro could be, or where someone who would know where Shiro could be, would be. After a few minutes of tense pondering, he finally remembered that Shiro used to disappear every Saturday to the soc neighborhoods. He’d never let Keith accompany him, and Keith assumed he was probably meeting a girlfriend or something. If he was, she could help him. Keith nodded his head determinedly.
He had a lead.

Across town, sitting in his new black Mercedes with Hunk and Pidge, Lance waits for his sister to show up at the train station. He huffs impatiently, wondering where the heck she could be. Pidge was on his phone, texting his older brother Matt. Hunk, with a confused expression on his face, approaches Lance from the side of the car he was on and scratches his head nervously.
“Uh, Lance? I know this is a quote on quote ‘Unexpected and difficult’ situation, but uh.. What’s exactly going on? I’m getting nervous. What happened with Shiro? Where is he?” Hunk’s face steadily grew more and more nervous as he asked the questions, until Lance stopped him with a stern yet comforting look.
“Listen, I’ll explain it as soon as Coran and Allura get here.” He places a gentle hand on Hunk’s shoulder and says more softly, “It’ll all be ok. The coalition won’t be in danger. We’re gonna find Shiro.”
Hunk gives a shaky smile back, but it’s evident that he was feeling better.
Suddenly, Pidge calls out. “Guys! I think they’re here!”
He was right, a stylish white and blue sports car rolled into the parking lot of the train station, with an even more stylish and gorgeous looking woman driving it. She leaps out of the car as soon as it parks, a grave expression on her face. On the passenger side, a kooky yet distinguished man with shockingly orange hair hops out of the car energetically. The woman, who is Lance’s sister Allura, speaks hurriedly and seriously, a faint english accent on her tongue.
“Lance, Hunk, Pidge. I’m so glad you’re here. There’s no time to lose.” She motions to the orange-haired man to approach and he bounces over with light feet, despite how serious Allura looks. “Coran, can you please tell them exactly what’s happened?”
“Of course, Miss Allura.” He turns to face the trio of friends and takes a short bow.
“As you already know, Shiro, the main leader of the coalition has gone missing. Now, you might be asking who could have taken our leader from us? Well, the answer is simple. A new gang has moved into the streets of upper Altea. The name is The Galra. They aren’t a new organization, in fact they’ve been terrorizing other cities but this is the first time they have made their move here. Their leader, a man called Zarkon by the underlings we interrogated. These ‘Galra’ probably thought that if they got ahold of our leader, we’d soon fall and let them take over this city.” He pauses and assumes a dramatic pose. “But we won’t let them do this and get away with it!”
The 4 teenagers nodded solemnly. Pidge asked “Do we have any leads or ties with Shiro that we could use to track him down?”
“Yes,” Coran replied. “Shiro has a brother.”

Chapter Text

Keith briskly walked through the streets of Upper Altea. He hadn’t been walking for long, but already the streets he was on looked cleaner, better kept, and less… Gang-y. Was that a word? Who knows. Keith knew he was reaching the Soc neighborhoods. Pretty soon, huge houses would dominate the roads, fancy cars would be parked everywhere, and rich soc kids in search of something to do would be out. This was no place for a greaser like Keith. He clutched his jacket closer to his body, shivering despite it being summer.

A raucous laugh sounded from one of the houses. Keith flinched and walked a little faster, but he stopped and scolded himself.
You’re tougher than any of these soft rich kids. They’ve probably never even seen a switchblade before.
Newly determined, he sets off again in search of.. What was her name? Oh yeah, Allura. A particularly well known Soc, probably due to the fact that she was the daughter of the city Mayor. That should make finding her house slightly easier, right? It’s got to be the biggest one on the street.
About 20 or so more minutes of walking later, he found it. It was not that hard to spot, specifically because of the huge banner that read ‘WELCOME HOME ALLURA!’
He stopped and looked up at the extravagant display, furrowing his brow in frustration. Countless civilians in the greaser neighborhoods had tough lives with nothing to spare, while these rich soc families could spend thousands on a stupid banner they’d take down within the week and throw away.

Keith hurried to the gate, but stopped in his tracks. How was he supposed to get past that? He looked up and down it, maybe there was some sort of button he could press? To the left side, he spotted a small box that appeared to be a radio. Perfect! He could try to activate it and get someone to let him in. A shaky finger pressed the red button. Suddenly, the radio sputtered to life. A man with a very prominent Australian accent greeted Keith.
“Hello there! State your business!”
Keith was taken aback at the chipper nature of the man, but he shook himself to come closer to the radio and answer.
“Uh, my name is Keith? I’m, I’m a friend of Allura’s.”
Silence on the radio’s end. After a small period of waiting, the radio clicked back and the man responded.
“Come on in Keith. We’ve been expecting you.”

Weird. How do they know who he is? Does Allura know about Keith from Shiro or something? Keith cautiously made his way through the gate and up the ridiculously long driveway. He took a deep breath before coming up to the huge door. Steadying his hand, he knocks. And the door opens almost immediately, revealing a suspicious looking face.
“Allura! Who’s this greaser over here?” A tall, thin and tan boy about Keith’s age stands in the doorway, hand on hip, head cocked.
“Uhh.. I’m Keith. I’m... Allura’s friend.” He says, face already scrunching up into a cold expression. He seems annoying already.
The kid narrows his eyes, moving in closer to Keith. “Oh really? Then how come I’ve never-” Suddenly, he stops talking, mouth frozen open and eyes wide. He then raises up a defiant hand, pointing at Keith.

“Y-you’re that kid! The one from the diner!” His eyes sparkle with recognition.
Keith is momentarily found dumbstruck. What the heck is this guy going on about?
“Huh? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never seen you before in my life.”
“Don’t play dumb!” an accusatory finger pokes Keith in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards in surprise.
“Watch it, Soc!” Keith growled back.
“Listen, I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but it isn’t-” Lance’s voice was cut off by him being shoved to the ground, a yelp eliciting from his lips as he fell in an unceremonious heap. The hero, in Keith’s eyes, that saved him from the talkative boy was a small… gremlin? Of some sorts? At least, they were as short as one.

“We apologize for him. He just doesn’t have any manners,” they said, casting a seething look at the tall boy currently picking himself up from the ground. A hand extended out towards Keith. He took it, and they shaked it politely.
“I’m Pidge. That there’s Lance. Don’t mind him, he can be a jerk sometimes.” Pidge said. “And you must be Keith.” They said, catching him off guard. How did.. He, Keith guessed, know him? It was weird enough that the man from the radio said they were expecting him, and then Lance insisted that they met before, and know this tiny human knew his name too? This was too much. Nonetheless, he let the two boys lead him into the house and through its long, twisting hallways, Lance casting suspicious glances towards him the whole way. Finally, they reached the living room. It was resplendent, the walls adorned with all manners of gold carvings and decorations, and the huge bay windows looked out over an equally fancy garden with an impressive array of exquisite plants and flowers. The living room held quite a few couches, which looked like they costed more than Keith’s entire apartment. Reclined on the couches and some standing around, were more people, dressed accordingly to their high social status. More Socs. He forced himself to appear as indifferent as possible.

That was a little difficult, considering there was a tall man that looked more moustache than face striding towards him excitedly. Too excited, apparently, because he even vaulted himself over one of the nice couches in his efforts to get close to Keith.
The familiar, thick australian accent betrayed him as the same man who let Keith through the gate.
“Keith! We’ve all heard so much about you! Welcome to the Coalition!” He shook Keith’s hand vigorously, almost bringing him down with how hard he was being jostled around.
Finally he let go, choosing instead to place his arm over Keith’s shoulders.
The other people in the room said their greetings to Keith, including a very pretty lady, a buff looking woman, and a girl with long yellow hair. The only one matching the moustache man’s excitement was a huge man with skin a slightly darker shade than Lance’s. He gave Keith an extremely tight bear hug, so tight that he ended up lifting Keith off the ground. He also made sure that Keith’s windpipe struggled to find air to take in, so when he was finally out down he gasped as if he resurfaced from under water.

“We’re so sorry about Shiro, we’re gonna do everything we can, alright?! You’re not alone!” The bandanna-clad man teared up giving the comfort, enough so that Lance came over to him and patted his back.
“Alright Hunk, it’s ok, breathe,” he said, as Hunk wiped his eyes.
Keith had a passing moment of amusement as he realized that Hunk was showing more emotion for Shiro, someone who Keith wasn’t even sure how he knew Hunk, more than his own brother did.
But that ended quickly as it was replaced by confusion and anger.

“Ok, ok, enough with the greetings and hysterics!” He said harshly, fed up with these soc’s antics.
“How do you guys know my brother? What’s the Coalition? Where is my brother?!”
The room fell silent at his furious expression. Finally, the annoying boy, Lance, broke it.
“Sheesh, it doesn’t take much to be polite,” He grumbled.
Keith sent a scathing glare his way, but it was hardly noticed, because the girl who couldn’t have been anyone but Allura strode forward with an imperious expression equally matching Keith’s.

“To start with your first question, we knew him because he was part of this very coalition,” she gestured to the people in the room and raised a quieting finger to Keith’s indignations. “And before you ask, Coran will explain to you what the Coalition is.” She finished, letting moustache man- no, Coran, take the floor.
He bows quickly before launching into an explanation to quell Keith’s doubts.
“What you are looking cat here, standing before you, is The Voltron Coalition. We formed not too long ago, led by your brother to help rid the streets of the vicious Galra Gang. He assembled a team of capable individuals to take them down, but it’s only been 2 months and… he vanished. We think it’s probably the Galra’s doing.” His normally cheery face was crossed with a look of anger.

“Luckily, we have you know, which means we’re one step closer to bringing Shiro home and the Galra to justice!” He finished with a triumphant fist in the air, and the others followed suit.
Keith was dumbstruck. Why had Shiro never told him of this? How long had this been going on? Could they be talking about the same Shiro? No, of course, because there was literally only one Shiro in all of lower Altea. He took a deep breathe.

“How do I know you’re all telling the truth? Wh-what if you’re the same people who took Takash- Shiro?”
They looked soundlessly to each other. Then, as if given an invisible cue, they reached into their shirts and pulled out a necklace with a small charm on it. Keith’s breath hitched in his throat. They all had the same symbol that Takashi had on his necklace. It looked like wings shaped into a triangular fashion. His brother had one, in black. The others had them in different colors. Green, yellow, orange, pink, blue, and finally… Red. Coran’s arm was outstretched, offering Keith the red necklace.
“We want you to join us.” He said simply.
Keith raised his arm to take it. His fingers closed over the cool metal.