Chapter Text
Keith hugged his knees to his chest, ignoring the purple claws that were becoming increasingly familiar, though he despised them all the same. They were the reason he was ostracised, torn away from his team by the cruelty of the universe, taken from yet another family.
Except this one wouldn't completely let him go.
The castle shook with another wave of attack, and Keith curled into an even smaller ball, hoping that he wouldn't be thrown around again. His ankle still hadn't fully healed from the attack with the strange galra who'd snuck onto the castle. The galra who'd actually listened to Keith's cries. The galra who'd told him that he wasn't bad. The galra who'd promised to return, but had not yet done so.
Keith doubted he ever would.
People promised things, but they could never keep the promises. His dad promised to always take care of him. Shiro promised he wouldn't leave him. Red promised she'd protect him.
Broken, broken, broken.
The promises were broken, and so was he.
Zarkon was tracking the ship, that's why they kept being attacked, or so Keith gathered from the few announcements made in the castle. Allura suspected it was him, though how he could betray them when he hadn't left his room since his heritage had been discovered, Keith didn't know. As much as it hurt for them to push him away, to barely even say 'hello' when they brought him his meals, he wouldn't betray them. He would never betray them.
They hated him, but he still cared.
He stopped fighting after Ulaz's visit, stopped trying to escape his room, accepting his fate. He wasn't a bad galra. He wasn't. So he behaved, he didn't respond with anger, he suppressed his fire until he could hardly feel the flames. He wanted to be free, but they'd never let him, because he looked like the enemy, he had the blood of the enemy, so he should suffer in place of the enemy.
There was nothing he could do but accept it.
It wasn't him, it was the Black Lion, and Keith was both relieved and concerned. Shiro had actually bothered to tell Keith that fact, but it was a sort of twisted reassurance. You're not betraying us, so we can keep you here without consequence.
Shiro wouldn't think like that, though. Would he?
Keith doodled as his once-brother talked, used to tuning out conversation. He didn't want to hear the things that made it sound like Shiro still cared, because he was chained to a wall in his room, he hadn't had proper exercise in weeks, he wasn't welcome anymore.
Shiro eventually gave up, and his leaving hurt Keith more than the ex-paladin would like. He thought he'd be over it by now, but he wasn't. He still cared too much, dammit.
And the others decided to make it even worse.
Pidge turned up to his room that night, the first time he'd seen the green paladin for days. She had the most reason to hate him; after all, it was his people who'd taken half her family away. Yet she came in with a small smile on her face, not only with a tray of food but also a couple of comics that looked to be from Earth. She chatted about a space mall, and a cow, then just as Keith started to zone out she held out a hand to him, the comics clutched in them.
"I picked these up. For you," she said, and Keith's chest tightened.
No. This wasn't right, they weren't supposed to care, she wasn't supposed to care, he was bad and they hated him-
But she'd bought him a gift, something no one had done since his 17th birthday, before Shiro left for Kerberos. He accepted it with a whispered "thank you", hating that the gesture warmed his heart because he knew that it would only break more.
Pidge left the room far too soon, and Keith couldn't even read the comics through the tears obscuring his vision.
No-one visited him for a few days, except for meals, which he barely ate. The comics were enjoyable, once he mustered the strength to pick them up, but that only made the ache in his chest stronger. He found himself whining without realising, other strange noises escaping him, brought on by his horrid transformation, he knew.
He hated those noises. They always seemed to happen at the worst times.
There was someone important on the ship, they were trying to forge an alliance, though Allura was incredibly tense about it- or that was what he gauged from the tone of her voice when she happened to walk past his room. Keith busied himself with reading the comics a third time, and doodling in the almost-full sketchbook after that, though he stopped when the only things on the page were yellow, pupil-less eyes staring out at him. His own eyes still held pupils, he knew it, but a whine escaped his throat, and he curled in on himself, huddled into the furthest corner the chain around his ankle would allow him to go to. Voices sounded by his door, then, and he whimpered, because this meeting was important but they'd heard his stupid noises and now Allura would be mad and he-
The door opened, and Keith braced himself for an attack.
He didn't expect a gasp of horror.
"You have a kit here?" an unfamiliar male exclaimed.
"He was the red paladin, until we uncovered the secrets of his heritage. I suspect he is a spy," Allura responded harshly, and Keith flinched at the tone.
I'm not a spy, I told you, I didn't know I didn't know ididntknow...
"He is just a kit," the male said, and a soothing rumble cut through the air. Keith's muscles relaxed then, instinctively, and a curious whine slipped out. The male- galra, he now saw- rumbled again, and approached him slowly, like Ulaz had.
"Shh, it's okay, kit. I'll get you out of here," he murmured, and Keith nearly cried because he'd heard that before but it had proven false. His tail swished in agitation, and the new, older galra turned to Allura.
"Release him to me, and I will accept your alliance," he said coolly.
... Alliance? With galra?
"Another of your kind wanted him, too. But he knows too much."
"I doubt he knows more than those at my base," the galra retorted, "He will be protected with us, and we will not let his secrets out. But he needs to be with his people."
Allura seemed to consider this, and Keith's heartrate sparked in panic. She was going to hand him over to the galra?
No no no no no no-
But wait. Ulaz had tried to help him, had promised him that there were some good galra. Was this galra good, too?
He doubted Allura would be talking to him if that wasn't the case.
The altean princess approached Keith then, for the first time in what felt like forever.
"If I remove your restraint, will you run?" she asked.
Keith shook his head.
Allura closed her eyes and twisted her fingers, and the cuff fell away from Keith's ankle with a gentle click. He tried to stand, his weak ankle almost giving way, but the galra was there in an instant, supporting him.
"Get your things," Allura snapped, "You have five doboshes."
Keith glanced around the room, trying not to panic. She really was handing him over to the galra. But he didn't protest, limping over to grab a few t-shirts and other clothing, including his favourite red jacket, which he pulled on. His sketchbook he shoved into the bag, along with pencils and the comics, but he froze when the time was almost up.
"My knife," he whispered, then louder, "Princess, where is my knife?"
Allura stiffened. "I will get it. Kolivan, go to the bridge and take him with you."
The galra - Kolivan - nodded in agreement, and shouldered Keith's bag before the ex-paladin could protest.
"Kit, you are hurt," Kolivan said once Allura had left them, "Let me carry you."
Keith shook his head. The removal of the cuff, the promise of getting out of here was too close, and he'd be dammed if he let himself face freedom in the arms of a stranger.
"'M fine," he mumbled, limping towards the open door. Part of him expected it to be a cruel trick, but he crossed the threshold, taking in a shuddered breath of air that belonged to a different area than his room. Kolivan walked apace with him, one of the galra's arms extended slightly to catch Keith if he fell, but Keith gritted his teeth and carried on limping. His leg muscles were screaming from their lack of exercise, his ankle throbbed with every step, and he was so tired, he hadn't slept properly in days, he couldn't afford to be weak-
Keith lurched to one side, his left leg giving out, and Kolivan caught him before he could smack into the floor. The older galra scooped him up, and Keith let out a small whine of protest before finding himself curling into Kolivan's embrace.
Damn these galra instincts.
He was so weak, so vulnerable around the galra now, something within him brought to life by the transformation. His instincts were still sharp and ready for battle, but also childish. With Ulaz, and now Kolivan, he found himself calming quicker than normal, longing for their touch, for them to pick him up and care for him and make him feel safe. So part of him was horrified at his position, but the other part was overjoyed to be carried in such a manner, snuggling into the galra's broad chest, feeling secure for the first time in weeks, months even.
"You're okay now, kit," Kolivan murmured, "You'll be safe with us, I promise."