Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In High School Keith was never fond of gym class. It wasn't the class in general, it was what followed it. No, he enjoyed gym. He relied on physical activity as a way to cope. Not to mention, the teacher was incredibly kind. The problem was showers. He hated the showers. Perhaps not the showers, just changing. Anything that involved him taking off clothes. It wasn't the acts that upset him, it was the reactions. People reacted horribly to his scars and felt disturbed by it. They have no right to ask the questions they do or make the assumptions they do. The fact that they think they do frustrates Keith.

So, of course, when came time on the Castle of Lions for needed showers or changing for training. He always made sure he was last to finish. He set up precautions inside his mind with ideas and plans on how to avoid the terrible experience from occuring once again. But, he didn't take in to consideration Lance's beauty care.

Keith stood in front of the mirror and sink while brushing his teeth. He wore red lined sweatpants (as provided by the Castle of Lions) with the hem of his underwear barely showing. He remained shirtless with a smaller towel hanging around his neck. He didn't want to put his shirt on until he's at least attempted to dry his hair, he hates wet clothing.

He leans down and spits into the sink. Running the water he manages a few rises through his mouth and cleans away any excess toothpaste he spat out. When he looks back up he freezes. His eyes widen and body goes stiff. For in the corner of the mirror he can see behind him. He sees the blue-eyed boy staring at him.

He quickly turns around, shaken up. He takes a hot second to compose himself and clear his voice before speaking, “Lance, what're you doing here?”

It's a stupid question and Keith knows this. He just wants to keep the conversation off himself. Lance needs to take a moment to process the words before responding.

“Night care routine. Uh,” Lace responds numbly and struggles to think his words through. He swallows a lump in his throat, “Did we do that?” He questions. Keith knows he’s not referencing to the team as whole causing the damage, but he knows Lance is blaming himself along with the others for Keith’s healed wounds. He shouldn’t.

Keith sighs, “No, I got them before meeting you guys.” Keith replies solemnly as he turns around and starts putting his stuff away in to his bag.

“What? How?” Lance questions. It didn’t make sense and rightfully so because it shouldn’t make sense. Was there anything besides war that could cause those tattoos of pain across the pale boys body?

“Lived by myself, remember? That alone is gonna cause all sort of problems.” Keith attempts a summoned response as he zips the back closed. He can feel Lance slowly walking closer behind him.

“Keith, you didn’t do this to yourself. Someone else did. ” Lance clarifies, as if it needed be. Keith grips the edges of the sink and bows his head with a sharp intake of a breath. This wasn’t a conversation he thought he’d be having in general let alone with Lance .

“It’s nothing, Lance. It’s nothing.” Keith pushes away the conversation as he turns around and rushes past Lance, barely bumping shoulders with him. Lance turns around and watches Keith bee-line his way to the exit. Keith stops due to Lance’s words.

“I see the way you flinch. I see the way you look at things and people. You think no one sees these things but I do. It’s not nothing, Keith. It’s something.” Lance points out and admits all the knowledge he’s gathered from the past few months he’s gotten to know and observe Keith.

“Just-” Keith inhales deeply and exhales out his words, “Let it go, Lance.” Keith attempts putting an end to the conversation but even he knows it’s futile.

“Why? So you don’t have to? Are you just gonna ignore this like you do everything else? Why can’t you just let us in?” Lance didn’t realize how upset he was getting over this. Everyone cared about Keith but none of that mattered if Keith didn’t care about himself. It made friendships and any type of relationship very difficult to manage. It frustrated Lance.

“Because I’m scared!” Keith yells back. He rubs his hands over his face, sighing. This conversation was taking its toll on him, “I’m scared, Lance. Ok? Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Lance whispers. He’s gotten this far in to Keith, he’s not backing out now.

“Of all of you? Of myself? Of everything? I’m just scared, Lance.” Keith sounds so broken in his tone and that Lance just wants to sweep up the broken pieces of this boy and put him back together. No one deserved to be that broken.

“Why would you be scared of us?” Lance questions the paladins logic.

“Because you care- or, at least, I think you care and everytime I think someone cares I get hurt and Lance, I’m sick of getting hurt.” Keith explains. He sounds sickly tired in his voice and Lance can’t help but desire sleep for the long haired boy.

“Who’s hurt you, Keith?” Lance starts walking a little closer to Keith, right behind him. He still hasn’t turned around and Lance isn’t sure why.

“Who hasn’t?” Keith chuckles to himself, “My Mom, my Dad, Shiro, the Garrison, me...the foster families.”

“Are they the ones that did that to you?” Lance references to the scars littered all across Keith’s body. Keith bowed his head and slightly nodded. Lance’s heart broke in to a million pieces as he never knew how   torn a person could feel until now. It should be illegal to be this damaged. It doesn’t seem fair.

Lance walks over so he’s in front of Keith. Keith keeps his head hung low with silent tears slipping past his eyes. There was no sob or whimper or cry, just the muffled slide of tears against his soft tainted skin.

“God, Keith. I’m sorry.” Lance whispers as he himself shakes his head.

He knows Keith isn’t a very emotional person but he doesn’t seem to care. He gently wraps his arms around the boy and softly pulls his head to lay on his shoulder. He can feel Keith’s heart beat faster and his body threaten a shiver and to any normal person he would just seem cold, but Lance knew by the wet stains he felt forming on his shoulder that Keith was broken and burned. He was ashes of hollowed out apologies and erased memories that had faded but never truly left. He was this pile of a mess and in that moment Lance made a promise not only to himself, but to Keith as well.

No one was going to hurt him ever again.

Chapter Text

Keith is fire and Lance is ice, two contradicting messes that clashed against each other with passion and force. But, the truth was, ice was far more detrimental.

A person can survive in extremely hot temperatures for a decent amount of time. They may not go into shock until the 30-40 minute mark and then survive for perhaps another hour. The human body, on the other hand, reacts completely different to the cold. In extremely low temperatures a person goes into shock within the first 2 minutes. Then, depending on the person, can only survive another 15-45 minutes. The survival rate for heat exposure is 80%. The survival rate for freezing temperatures is 50%. As it would go on to prove, ice actually beats fire.

“I'll walk across first and then you guys follow after me, one at a time. I don't think it can hold much weight.” Keith ordered, referencing to the vast cover of ice in front of them. It wasn't long but it was dangerous enough.

“Be careful.” Lance reminded before Keith went over.

“Yeah, I second that.” Hunk anxiously adds in.

“Ditto.” Pidge also joins in.

Keith just nods at everyone’s concern, not really acknowledging it. Instead he begins his walk across the fear enduring freezing walk way. He’s careful about where he steps. He doesn’t take any chances. If a step in a certain direction looks even the tiniest bit risky he choose another path.

He’s about halfway across and it feels fairly solid. Perhaps even solid enough for another person to get on. He looks back and he’s perhaps only 20 or 25 feet away from the group. He chuckles to himself at how simple the act turned out to be. But he had forgotten, he was fire and below him, was ice.

“Hey, guys-“ He doesn’t get much of anything in before his own element ends up being his demise.

The ice under him suddenly caves and takes him along for the ride. But Keith is determined. He’s not going down that easily. He attempts to hold himself up, scrabbling to grab something from the icy edge around him. His hands are quickly sliding but he’s faster to try again. He doesn’t even acknowledge the freezing water his lower half is in.

“Keith!” All three paladins yell before running across the ice and towards Keith.

In any other given logical situation they all would go under as well, but they hadn’t. They’d later find the ice Keith fell through had been previously planned. It was a trap.

Lance makes it there first and manages to grab on to the back of Keith’s suit just as he goes under. With what strength he has, Lance attempts to pull Keith up and out of the water. Hunk and Pidge join and pull with all they have. The current is strong, but they’re stronger.

When they get him out they all take a split second of shock to realize what was going on. It terrified them. Hunk looks down at the black paladin and sees that his chest isn’t moving. He begins to panic.

“Keith? Are you breathing? Is he breathing? Guys, I don’t think Keith’s breathing. Oh God, he’s not breathing.” Hunk begins to panic. Loss is something he’s unfortunately been introduced to earlier in his life, he wasn't ready to lose anybody else.

“Keith.” Lance calls out as he rushes over to kneel beside Keith, Pidge joins in the action. Lance shakes Keith a little but gains no reaction. He clicks the side button on his helmet to get a look at Keith’s face. He seems so peacefully asleep and content, but Lance knew it was the exact opposite, “Keith?”

To his surprise the black Paladin calmly opens his eyes to adjust his view to Lance. He must’ve been in mental shock of what was happening, either way it scared everyone half to death.

“Ow.” Keith groans. Lance sighs out of relief before taking his next steps.

“Pidge, what are his vitals?” Lance gets on in Keith’s role and begins looking over Keith for any other noticeable injuries.

“Temperature of 94 degrees Fahrenheit. 112 bpm. Systolic of 147. Diastolic of 92.” Pidge quickly calculates through scanners. Lance silently thanks Coran for that crash course in the basics of the medical field.

“Alright, how ya doing right now, Keith?” Lance goes on to ask.

“Cold.” Keith replies, slightly annoyed at the question. Lance just rolls his eyes. Joking was his role but he didn’t have the time to argue. He knew Keith hated attention and was just trying to get it off him. But, at the moment, if he didn’t get the attention he needed it may be his demise.

“Hunk, can you call in Coran and Allura and let them know what’s going on? We’re gonna have to cut this mission short.” Lance asks. Hunk nods and goes off to calmly do as he’s told.

“Guys…” Keith takes a moment to shiver, his teething threatening to clatter against each other in the process, “I’m so cold.”

“First stage of hypothermia initiated.” Pidge warns, but Keith doesn’t seem to listen as he’s too busy shivering and dreaming of warm things.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta move you, Keith.” Lance explains before helping Keith.

He moves one of Keith’s arms around his own shoulder and helps him to a standing position. With one hand wrapped around Keith’s waste and the other holding on the wrist around his neck, the two set off away from the scene with Pidge following along.

Their original plan was to head towards the yellow lion, which was where Hunk was. But, things don’t ever truly go as they please. Keith’s movements slowly became less determined as it seemed he was dragging his own feet. He eventually gives up altogether and lets his body fall limp.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, no, no, no, c’mon, Keith. We’re almost there.” Lance begins to whine as he goes down to support Keith and ensure his safety.

“What-? What are we doing?” Keith questions absentmindedly.

“We’re getting you to the yellow lion, man. So you can get warm.” Lance explains with some hope that Keith will understand this and go along. Wishful thinking.

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith mumbles a response. Lance has never been so scared in his life. He didn’t want to watch a person die, let alone a teammate .

“Pidge.” Lance raises his voice but keeps his eyes on Keith, too afraid to look away.

“On it.” Pidge responds and then quickly finds an estimate, “93.3 degrees Fahrenheit. 120 bpm. Systolic of 150. Diastolic of 95. We’re closing in on on the second stage of hypothermia.” Pidge warns.

“Why is his heart rate and blood pressure rising if his temperature is lowering?” Lance exclaims, “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Actually, it does. Lower temperatures narrow blood vessels which makes it harder to pump blood through, meaning more pressure is needed and the heart is the main transporter for blood.” Pidge goes on to explain.

“Pidge! Not. Helping.” Lance points out.

“You asked.” Pidge shrugs innocently. Lance groans as he tries and get Keith back on his feet.

“God, I wish Keith was lighter .” Lance complains. He gives up on the idea of Keith walking again and places the black Paladin over his shoulder and stands back up. Lance and Pidge begin their walk towards the yellow lion.

They had originally all piled in to the yellow lion as it seemed too dangerous to send every lion down. Lance thanked that decision as now there was no problem with placement lion wise.

Pidge and Lance rush their way in to the yellow lion. Hunk is in his chair, speaking to the Alteans. He turns around to see Pidge, Lance, and a very confused Keith managing their way in. He turns back towards the coms, “They just walked in now, we’re heading back now.”

“How’s Keith?” Allura asks. Hunks turns back around and eyes Pidge for a response.

“Second stage hypothermia.” Pidge informs Hunk and the Alteans.

“He doesn’t look too good.” Hunk adds on.

“I am having Coran prepare a pod for him this very moment.” Allura assures them.

“Thank you, Princess.” Hunk nods.

“Not a problem. Keep me updated.” She suggests.

“Will do.” Hunk nods and turns the com system off before turning back around and walking over to the trio.

Lance is sitting against a wall with Keith in between his legs, Keith’s back against Lance’s chest. Lance looks slightly uncomfortable but more concerned than anything. He looks up at Hunk with a nod that Hunk returns before looking towards Pidge. The green Paladin doesn’t need to be told what to do because the habit was already there.

“90.3 degrees Fahrenheit. 127 bpm. Systolic of 172. Diastolic of 100.” Pidge announces.

“Oh God.” Lance moans, “He’s getting worse!” Lance exclaims.

“We can see that, Lance!” Pidge exclaims back.

“I thought you didn’t like Keith?” Hunk asks, a random thought.

“He annoys me. I don’t want him dead .” Lance clarifies.

“Geez, sorry.” Hunk holds up his hands in defense before heading back to the pilot's seat, “We’re heading back, alright guys?”

Pidge and Lance nodded but kept their attention on Keith. Lance looked up at Pidge and asked a question, “What are symptoms of the final stage of hypothermia?”

“Lack of conscious, which I don’t think he has.” Pidge squints, “Uh, nausea, memory loss, irritability, to name a few.” Lance nods and puts his attention back on Keith.

“Keith?” Lance grabs his attention. Keith hums back a response, his eyes fluttering, “When’s your birthday?”

Keith’s response was a slurred mess of words and vowels that Lance nor Pidge could grasp. They looked up at each other. Pidge looked at Lance with furrowed eyebrows, “Do you even know when Keith’s birthday is?”

“Uh…” Lance takes a blank moment.

“October 23.” Hunk answers for his friend.

“Hunk knows.” Lance points to his friend, “Why do you know Keith’s birthday, Hunk?”

“I like to know the birthdays of all my friends so I can make them a cake and make them feel appreciated. I think everyone is important which means they should celebrate their special day.” Hunk responds. It warms the heart of the green and red Paladin.

“So tired.” Keith suddenly slurs from under Lance, earning the attention of him and Pidge.

“I know, man. I know. Just hold on a little longer.” Lance encourages as they close in on the castle.

When they make it to the castle, Lance gently maneuvers Keith over his shoulder and begins his dash to the pods. Crowns meets him halfway, taking Keith from him. By the time the three other paladins are there, Keith is in the pod. Lance walks in front of it a looks at the temperature.

“96 degrees and rising.” Pidge whispers with a chuckle. Lance hangs his head down low and shakes it with a sigh. He whispers not to Pidge or Hunk or himself but to Keith.

“Thank God you’re warm.”

Chapter Text

"Adam, really?" Shiro doesn't look pleased as he shoots his fiancé a look. The two are sitting a comfortable distance from each other on the couch as if they were only friends, but they just needed space to work. Shiro had leaned over to see what Adam was doing and wasn't amused by his plans.

"What?" Adam chuckles lightly in his tone of voice.

"Nobody likes Kagan." Shiro narrows his eyes.

"Kagan is beneficial for young developing minds, Takashi." Adam argues with slight tease as he knows his fiancé means no harm.

"Kagan sucks, Adam!" Matt shouts from the corner of the room, causing Shiro and Adam to look at him. He's sitting in a comfy tan cushioned chair with his legs resting against the arm of the chair, curling himself in to this childish ball. Papers and folders are sprawled out among the floor around him as he focuses on one single folder and a few papers. He's replacing a pencil in to his mouth as he's flipping through papers. He doesn't even bother looking to the couple, he would much rather focus on work.

"You are of no help, Matthew." Adam shakes his head.

Matt looked up at him and took the pencil out of his mouth before speaking clearly. His face showed to be serious but they all knew this conversation was childish.

"And neither will you be if you use that God awful program." Matt points at Adam and his papers with his pencil before placing it back in his mouth and focusing his attention on his work.

"You don't get it. You're a science teacher, you can use whatever. Do you know how hard it is to be a language arts teacher?" Adam exclaims, keeping his attention on Matt even if he wouldn't receive any back.

"Nerd." Matt's response is slightly muffled due to his pencil occupying his mouth.

"I do." Shiro chimes in at Adam's statement. Adam looks over at him with a glare.

"You're no better." Adam shook his head. Shiro smiled lightly at him and Adam couldn't help but smile back.

"Fine. I'll stop teasing you about your poor program choices." Shiro gave him a sincere but humor filled look.

"Thank you." Adam responds with a similar attitude.

The couple left each other to their business and continued to work in either preparing or grading. Funny thing was, teachers hated written responses just as much as students did. They took so long to grade and some nights ended up being longer than others. But, they do what the district asks.

They all met each other early in college, but knew of each other previously. Matt's father, Sam, actually mentored Shiro quite a bit here and there and the two grew close. But he didn't start to know Matt better until the beginning of college. It was near the time he met Adam through mutual friends. It seemed to be the same situation with Adam. They hung out here and there in groups of friends or at parties, but never got close until college.

When the two announced they were dating only half way through the school year, everyone thought it wouldn't last. No one would admit it, but they just didn't see it happening. Imagine the shock on their faces when 5 years later they announce their engagement. The Wedding would be coming up in roughly half a year, but it still felt so close. There was so much more to prepare and plan and decide on. This was a big step. Shiro couldn't wait for the day there would be two Mr. Shirogane's at Altea High School. It soothed his thoughts.

"Shiro!" Lance's voice did not.

Shiro sighed before slowly setting his stuff down. He took his time to gently place it together but was quickly cut off by a louder yell.

"Shiro! It's Keith!" Lance yelled, sounding more urgent and scared in his tone.

All three teachers looked at each other with immense fear and concern for a second before dashing as quick as they could down the steps. Shiro made sure to manage his way there first with Matt and Adam following close behind.

The sight was one to see. In the background laid three unattended controllers and some Halo game paused on the TV. Further away was Keith lying asleep on a couch. Lance was kneeled in front of him with his hand on his shoulder, Hunk and Pidge behind him.

When the students all saw Shiro coming down they moved out of the way. Lance removed his hand from Keith's shoulder and backed far away, along with Hunk and Pidge. Shiro rushed to crouch beside Keith as Adam hovered over his Fiancé. Matt talked to his younger sibling and friends to understand what happened.

Shiro understood within a second. Keith was sweating a fair amount with his eyes squinting in fear. Pain was written all across his skin with tight muscles and stiff positions. He jerked a few times here and there with mumbles Shiro couldn't quite make out.

He was having a nightmare. Boy, did they get bad. Nights on end Keith would lose sleep and it deteriorated his health. It once got to a point where it was so bad he ended up in the hospital. Although, he told Shiro the meds were working. He said he didn't have them anymore. He would definitely be talking to Keith after this.

"Keith? Wake up, buddy." Shiro gently shook his adoptive brother's shoulder at a light first attempt to awaken him. It didn't help, "Keith, c'mon. It's just a dream."

He shook a little harder and this time it did the trick. Keith woke up with a jerk and launched himself in to a sitting position. His breathing was labored and his eyes kept dashing across the room, as if he were looking for something.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down." Shiro said softly.

Keith had grabbed on to Shiro's arm as his other arm held him up. He slowly started to ease his breathing to a normal pace before landing his eyes upon his brother.

He took a second to swallow the lump in his dry throat and for a small amount of time there was sweet silence, no labored breathing. But it was quickly filled again.

Keith quickly changed positions so he was sitting on the couch properly, with his legs off the edge and his hands pushing down beside him. He still seemed kind of out of it, but Shiro knew this wouldn't stop him from doing anything far from his usual closed off actions.

"Whoa, you alright?" Shiro asked with his usual brotherly voice.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just, um..." He trailed off again as he stood up and walked to a table behind the couch before Shiro could stop him. He grabbed his backpack and threw one strap over his shoulder, "I'm just gonna head home." He announces and rushes up the stairs, not daring to look back.

Shiro lingered his look at the stairs for a few moments, hoping Keith would come back down and openly talk about what was going on and receive support from everyone. But who was he kidding? Keith's wouldn't do that even if his life depended on it.

Shiro sighed as he looked down, not wanting to stare any longer at those cursed stairs. He took a single second to compose himself before standing up tall and straight to face the others, Adam by his side.

"What happened? I thought you guys were playing games or something?" Shiro asked. He wasn't mad or hurt, just confused.

"We were!" Pidge exclaimed before quieting down to explain, "Until Lance decided to piss Keith off." Sending a glare to the boy.

"What?!" Lance threw his arms up.

"He went to the couch to cool off. We thought he was on his phone. We didn't realize he fell asleep until he started whimpering." Hunk joins in.

Everyone knew about Keith and his problems with sleeping. So, they all made an agreement when it came to Keith and sleep. He was to sleep in a bed, no noise, meds before, never before 9 but never after 11, and if they knew the day had been stressful then someone checks on him every hour. It was a system they had all proudly founded. In that plan was the obvious rule that napping was a no go. Especially after getting in an argument with Lance, how did they not see this coming?

They weren't going to openly admit it, but Lance, Hunk, and Pidge blamed themselves. Mostly Lance, but he's the most likely to avoid admitting that. Shiro could see this and decided not to push any further.

"Alright, I'm gonna go talk to him. You coming, Adam?" Shiro announced and then asked.

"I can drive you home later, if you want?" Matt suggests to Adam.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." Adam nods.

"Alright. See ya at home." Shiro bids his fiancé farewell with a chaste kiss on the lips. It lasted no longer that a second but nonetheless romantic and sweet. With that, Shiro was off.

Shiro rushes slightly to his apartment and goes to Keith's room. He's not there. For a second Shiro starts to panic before he decides to check elsewhere. The bathroom door is slightly cracked so Shiro pushes it back to see Keith standing in front of the mirror. Shiro leans against the frame, crosses his arms, and scoffs with a smile.

Keith's hair is darker than usual due to it clumping together from water. He's wearing gray sweatpants with the hem of his underwear showing slightly above them. He's not wearing a shirt caused his slim but fairly built figure to show. There's a towel under his feet as he holds scissors to his hair.

"Getting rid of the 'do?" Shiro asks teasingly.

"Don't flatter yourself, it's just a trim." Keith mumbles back, he clearly doesn't seemed pleased with Shiro's humor nor is he desirable to take part in it.

"You take a shower?" Shiro starts light conversation.

"Mmhmm." Keith responds as he finishes off trimming his hair before putting the scissors away and throwing the towel in to the hamper.

"You eat yet?" Shiro's slowly easing himself in to his not-so-subtle health check questions.

"Not hungry." Keith responds blankly as he pushes past Shiro, not bothering to look him in the eyes.

Keith walks in to his designated room and leaves Shiro to sigh against the empty door frame. Talking with Keith has only gotten more and more impossible over the years and now it seems as if they can't have a simple conversation. Shiro has let him get away with far too much at this point, he wasn't going to hold out any longer.

Keith's door was open, it typically was since the nightmares had started long ago. This way Shiro or Adam could have an easier auditory access as well as managing their way in if needed. Shiro took his respected lean against the frame and looked to Keith. There was no smirk on his face this time. Keith has his bare back against the wall while he sat upon his bed. His room seemed large due to not much being in there. Keith never owned a lot of stuff, he wasn't one to keep rather than remember. He was on his phone, more than likely Instagram. He hadn't looked up to Shiro but he knew he was there.

"I'm not leaving until we talk." Shiro announces with a newly found serious tone.

"We just did." Keith gives another numb response, avoiding Shiro's glare.

"About what happened." Shiro adds on.

"Then you better get comfy with that wall seeing as you'll be spending so much time with it." Keith comments as he plugs his phone in to charge and takes out a book to indulge in.

"I'm serious, Keith." Shiro says sternly. There is no response earned from Keith, he simply flips a page, "I'm sure they're blaming themselves right now." Shiro doesn't have to elaborate, Keith already knows.

"Well, they shouldn't." Keith says with a dry tone. He's simply stating with a lack of meaning. It's just words at this point.

"A lot of it seems to be falling on Lance." Shiro adds on, knowing this will somehow strike something in him. Keith has a large heart but it's buried deep.

"Shouldn't. In fact, they should just forget it happened all together." A spark of anger flames in his tone and Shiro knows he's getting somewhere.

Shiro moves his head to get a read of what the title is on Keith's attention grabber of the moment. Shiro adjusts himself with a scoff and looks towards Keith.

"'Among the Hidden'?" Shiro questions, it's the first book in a seven book series.

"Yup." Keith pops the 'p'.

"How many times is this now? 100? 1000?" Shiro teases him.

Keith loves the Shadow Children series by Margaret Haddix, he always has. He first read the whole series in 7th grade and became obsessed. Shiro had bought him the whole series for Christmas so he didn't have to keep checking out copies from his school or local library. That was the first day he saw Keith smile since adoption day. Shiro considers that perhaps one of the best days on his life.

Since then Keith has continued to read and re-read the series over and over again. The books are worn and old but it only makes the experience more authentic the next read. He's got certain parts of each book memorized. He has favorite characters. He has favorite antagonists. He has favorite scenes. He has a lot of opinions on the series and each individual book. Shiro has never read a single line from any of the books, but he already seems to know the whole plot and storyline down to the smallest detail. The Shadow Children series is Keith's thing.

"George Talbot." Shiro states plainly.

"What about him?" Keith keeps his monotone voice in check.

"He lost his daughter, Jen, right?" Shiro states another fact, only earning a nod from Keith, "As if that wasn't bad enough, wasn't there another reason it sucked?" Shiro asked.

He knew full well what the answer was, but he loved Keith's explanation every time he asked. It had been a while since there was any mention of the series, so a refresher would be nice.

"He couldn't mourn. If anyone knew he had an illegal third child he'd be arrested." Keith flips another page.

"So, he didn't mourn. Why's that so bad? No sadness, just happiness." Shiro's attempted tone makes it obvious to what he's doing, but Keith is too focused on his book to notice.

"More like no happiness, just sadness. He can't get the support he needs in order to heal properly..." Keith trails off and looks up from his book to the smile on Shiro's face.

"You were saying?" Shiro smirks further in his tone.

"You," Keith set his book down and pointed at Shiro, playful anger written across his face as he made his way to the door, "You are an asshole."

Keith attempts to close the door shut but finds Shiro placing his foot in between, making it incredibly difficult to close it. It was a constant fight between closing and opening which got them nowhere.

"C'mon, Keith." Shiro pleaded.

"Leave me alone, Shiro." Keith gritted though his teeth, keeping his strength up.

"Please. Just talk to me." Shiro is begging at this point.

Both their struggles stop but they stay in the same position. Shiro realizes he's hit something with Keith and feels improvement. Keith sighs out loud before responding.

"I will. Just- Not now." He left a pause between the last two words, as if speaking the words pained him in some sort of way.

"You promise?" Shiro raised his eyebrows.

"I promise." Keith sounded truthful in his tone, but then again, he was a really good liar. It was hard to trust his word.

"Alright," Shiro began to back away from the door, as did Keith, "Get some sleep, buddy."

Keith pulled the door open before heading back to his bed, "You too, old man."

Shiro smiled and left the door frame after lingering one second more. As he sat in his room, preparing for bed and waiting for his fiancé, he would typically dream of his perfect life and how to get there, but this time he dreamt of Keith's.

Chapter Text

Keith wouldn't admit it, but he was tired. An unbelievable amount of exhaustion had been wavering over him since the morning. It lingered reasonably in the morning but seemed to draft over him heavily by the afternoon. 

He had no reason to not understand why he was tired. The answer was simple, really. He hadn't been sleeping. It was as plain as that.

He hadn't expected himself to fall in to a comfort of soft eye drifting and sleep the nights away, but he at least expected a few hours or two. And he did receive those few hours most nights. But now, he hadn't sleep at all in the past 48 hours.

Perhaps some of it was intentional. The nightmares were always there, but recently a bigger pain to deal with. It was just another problem to deal with, and it he could rid of it in any way possible, he was going to. If that meant never resting, so be it. But perhaps some of it wasn't his idea at all. His mind was on this merry-go-round of thoughts and emotions that seemed to be anything but merry. When silence covered the air like most nights had, the gears turned faster than ever before. He couldn't rest his mind and therefore couldn't rest his body.

So Keith gave up on sleep. If his body had decided he wasn't sleeping tonight then he wasn't sleeping tonight. His body had made terrible judgement the past two days. Keith had done nothing. He laid uncomfortably against the comfortable bed and stared blankly to the ceiling for hours. He somehow thought that if he stared long and hard enough then his mind would calm down and his eyes would droop. But they never did.

He couldn't tell if it was showing to the others. It could be in large manners or small details, Keith would never knew because he had stopped trying to read emotions ages ago. It deemed being too much trouble for him so he gave up on it.

But one thing was for sure, it would be popping up in training today. He knew where the line was taking him now and he blindly walked it, ignoring all signs that told him to hop off before the line snapped. He wouldn't be giving in that soon.

He tried snapping himself out of it with small things. Countless times he had brushed water against his skin not for the sake of cleanse but for the sake of sanity. He tried conversation starting that never really quite fit or stuck the right way. He found himself trying to peak his hunger but later discovered he was anything but hungry. His body had rejected the weird purple solids Hunk had prepared like a parasite, throwing it out of his body. He decided he would be trying a different approach. The smaller the better, right? He just needed to lighten his mind and start things up again.

"Lance," Keith had only started his sentence before Lance gently snapped his head to the other Paladin, raising his eyebrows innocently and gently and the group continued to walk towards the training room, "Are you eating blueberries?" Keith mustered.

This time felt genuine. He felt his old self breaching the surface for a gasp of breath had it been under too long. He cherished the feeling as he never knew when he'd get it back. Once Lance's face beamed to a smile it seemed to stay for a while.

"It's not blueberries, John Stamos." Lance smirked at him, "Hunk found them in some carts in the kitchen."

"They actually taste more like a citrusy banana in a cute little blue ball." Hunk leaned back to explain. He only seemed to add to Keith's now sudden happiness.

"Taste great! Here." Lance grabbed one from his small handful and placed it above his shoulder. He retracted a few times back and forth with raised brows, asking Keith for permission. Keith simply smiled and opened his mouth, leaning his head back. Lance threw the food perfectly in the air and much to Keith's surprise he caught it in his mouth, only having to tilt his head the slightest. Lance watched as he chewed cautiously on the food. His face scrunched up like a string and his lips puckered. This caused a laugh from Lance and a smile from Keith.

"That's sour," Keith mumbles loud enough, "and disgusting." He chuckles as he swallows.

"Like Lance." Pidge comments back.

"Uh!" Lance grabbed his chest, pretending to be shot painfully, "You wound me, dear Pidgeon." Pidge only responded with a smile and the casual shake of the head. Keith and Hunk found themselves smiling brighter with humor and satisfaction.

"Guys, we need to foc- Lance, why do you have blueberries?" Shiro turned around as they entered the training room, finally.

"It's not blueberries!" Lance says through a laugh and he throws the open hand up, still chewing from his last snack, "Why does everyone think they're blueberries?"

"Perhaps because they look like blueberries?" Pidge suggested with slight sarcasm in the tone.

"Oh, dear Pidgeon, you should know by now that nothing is ever as it seems." Lance smirks that all to familiar smirk. It's like his signature. That's when you know a conversation is over, when Lance is signing off.

"Put those away, we're starting training." Shiro demands lightly.

"I have no where to put them!" Lance exclaims with a hint if a chuckle.

"Then hurry up and eat them." Shiro rolls his eyes as a smile travels across his face.

“All of them?” Lance exclaims.

“Yup.” Shiro nods with a smile as he crosses his arms.

Lance groans with annoyance before an idea pops into his mind. He goes on to include Pidge and Hunk in a little game of catch. He spices things up by closing his eyes, doing it backwards, under his leg, after spinning in a circle, he turns it into this fun game that earns chuckles and smiles across the group. Even a few rare ones from Keith.

“Last one. Shiro?” Lance suggests with the same motion he urged Keith with, his arm retracted with the food in his hand, ready for liftoff.

“No thanks, Lance.” Shiro politely declines.

“What?! Why not?” Lance exclaims.

“I’m not taking part in your mess.” Shiro explains.

“God, Shiro. You’re so over dramatic.”

“Stop being so over dramatic, boy.”

Suddenly Keith can’t breathe. He hasn’t heard that voice in years and planned on keeping it that way. He had only recently, before the journey, gotten over it. He knew he was safe. He was millions of light years away from Earth, but why did it feel so real?

Any sound around him began to drown out. There was this soft ringing in his ears that drowned out any noise into a soft muffled whisper. Keith could feel his heart beat against his throat and it scared him. He couldn’t breathe. God, he couldn’t breathe.

He looked around at the dazed room and blankly became aware that the others were looking at him, concerned. Shiro opened his mouth and Keith knows he spoke, but he can’t hear him. Or perhaps he did hear him? He just couldn’t process anything other than the fact that he needed to breathe .

“Keith?” It’s touch that brings his senses back, or at least his auditory sense. Lance’s tan hand is placed on Keith’s shoulder in an unintentional grounding method. Keith looks from the hand to Lance and his furrowed brows. His gaze drops absently low.

“Coran. You need to get Coran. You just-“ He takes in a gasping breath, his body starting to heave, “Just get Coran.”

“What? Why? What’s going on, Keith?” Shiro insisted. He stayed where he originally was, too afraid that if he moved it would set something off in Keith. This behavior wasn’t like Keith and lack of knowledge associating with Keith meant caution. He was only perhaps 15 feet away, but it felt like miles to Keith. His perception was off and nothing made sense.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I just- I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, Shiro.” He begins to panic at the settling facts.

He reaches out to grab something as he can start to feel his legs give out. He needed to focus all his energy on breathing, nothing else. Lance is quick to react as he grabs both of Keith’s forearms and sinks down to the floor with him.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance is so gentle with his words but anyone else could see that he was terrified as to what was going on. He didn’t like being left in the dark.

“Pidge, Hunk, go get Coran and Allura.” Shiro urges as the two paladins are quick to go.

“Keith, can you look at me?”

“Look at me when I speak to ya!”

Keith yelps in agony as his hands rush to cup at his ears but end up with a death grip on his scalp. Lance notices the change and despite his alertness he is quick with reason. He can’t have Keith hurt himself in this state so he turns him around and hugs him from behind. His arms are around Keith, crossing Keith’s arms across his chest so he can’t hurt himself. The two sit on the floor with Shiro crouching in front, listening in on Keith’s labored breathing.

“Keith, buddy, can you try to calm down for me?” Shiro’s words are simple and the request easy, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. All he was looking for was a reaction from Keith that somehow indicated he was with them, not in his own little world.

Keith’s throat felt like it was closing in on him. Every breath he dug in to his lungs was embers that were ignited by his thoughts. Everything just hurt and he wanted it all to stop. He was so desperate for it to stop. He had never felt something like this before and it scared him. A whimper threatened his throat but never made it past his lips. He felt the urge to cry but something stopped him from doing so.

“Stop it! Boys don’t cry!”

“Stop!” Keith yells, his voice cracking painfully as he tightens the shut of his eyes, as if the darkness would save him. No, it would only ignite the pain but Keith didn’t care, he relied on it anyways.

“Keith, Keith! You’re fine. You’re fine, bud.” Shiro attempts to assure him.

Keith knows that Shiro goes on to speak gentle words and whisper kind nothings to get him to calm down, but he can’t hear him. The painful ringing in his ears are back. With two senses gone, sight and hearing, the others enhance. Suddenly he can smell the beer. He can taste the blood. He can feel the pain like he’s never before.

He opens his eyes in the hopes of lessening the feeling. He sees a blurry version of Shiro crouched in front of him. He looks so concerned and Keith hates it. Shiro’s lips move but Keith continues to hear nothing. He just shakes his head at Shiro with a sad look.

Shiro starts to get it as he uses his hands to gesture. He motions his hands up as he seems to take in a deep breath before lower his hands and blowing air out. He’s nodding encouragement to Keith for him to follow along. He’s reminding Keith that he needs to breathe . Oh God.

“This is for your own good.”

“Please don’t.” Keith silently begs, a look of pained confusion and empathy strikes Shiro.

His head is pushed in to water.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t. Breathe.

Darkness.

Darkness.

When Keith starts to come to it’s slow. But, he used to this process. Waking up from a moment of unconsciousness. Sadly he’s mastered the ability to bounce back with record time.

The lights are too bright but Keith knows he still needs to adjust to the visions so he finds the dullest corner of the room to focus his vision on. It soon comes apparent that his hearing is back too.

“You scared the quiznack out of Lance.” A voice suddenly says, as if continuing a normal conversation.

Keith looks over to see Pidge messing around with the controls of a monitor beside him. It’s not until now does he notices that he’s in the med bay, not his own room. He feels a moment of confusions before adjusting to the realization. He looks back around before focusing his attention back on Pidge.

“He’s never heard of a panic attack before. He thought he poisoned you with those Altean blueberries.” Pidge explains before finishing up a basic analysis on the technology to ensure it was working, only now facing Keith. Keith decides he doesn’t want to face his problems right now and lays his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

“They’re not blueberries.” Keith corrects, repeating what Lance had insisted so harshly.

“I think you’re missing the point.” Pidge points out, earning a light scoff from Keith, “He thought you were dying . Hell, we all thought you were. Well, except Shiro, of course. He seemed to be the only one that knew what was going on.”

“Typical.” Another scoff from Keith. There's a short intermission of silence as Podge debates on the next words to use. It had its ups and down and but was ultimately deemed necessary to say.

“Shiro told us.” Pidge admits before suddenly becoming really interested in the ground and the sleeve the green paladin was wearing. Keith turned his head to look at Pidge, hoping this was some sick joke. When he realized it wasn't he slightly broke.

“That bastard .” Keith grunts as he rolls his head and shakes it to look back up at the ceiling. He just wants all of this to be a bad dream.

“We just want to help you.”

“What if I don't want your help?”

“You need it.”

“You don't know what I need.”

“Neither do you.”

The light argument ends as Keith can't argue back because Pidge was right . He didn't know anything right now. He didn't know how to handle things or how to communicate his feelings or the difference between right and wrong when it came to how he treated himself. He knew nothing . It made him feel stupid.

“Let us help you.” Pidge whispers and Keith can feel how broken the green paladin has become due to this. He never knew he could have such an effect on a person, and it scared him to be in this much control of his life.

“I'll let you guys talk and I'll listen.” Keith compromises with a secret word play in their that Pidge caught even though Keith thought differently, more or so hoped.

“You'll listen, but will you try and understand it.” Pidge questions.

“I will now.” Keith stubbornly mumbles, giving up on the debate.

Podge smiles at the work accomplished. It was apparent that Keith wouldn't be getting better over night. No, that wasn't how it worked. But, he was on the path to at least find peace, and that was all the team could ask for.

Chapter Text

Keith modest and prideful, but he’s not stupid. If he’s injured and knows he needs medical attention he won’t hesitate to ask when the time is right. If it’s severe enough he has no problem interjecting himself in to conversations to inform the others. Of course, him getting hurt doesn’t happen often, let alone seeking medical attention of worse. Most of the time Keith is fine on his own and just sleeps the headaches, bruises, and cramps off. He can deal with it.

Then again, this wasn’t like most times, now was it? He had talked with Allura and Shiro and they specifically told him that this was for informations access on the Galran bases in the area, nothing more and nothing less. Keith had heard that towards the bottom of the ship was a control area that help information relating to the BOM. He didn’t know much, but was informed enough. Although, he wanted to know more .

They told him no and this angered him. He didn’t see the problem. It’s not like it was going to cause any problems to the mission. It was insignificant to the acts but significant to him. But, he didn’t show his disapproval and just nodded their words off.

Of course, Keith didn’t listen.

Information gathering missions are typically self explanatory. Hunk and Pidge manage their way to the control center to access the information while Keith, Lance, and Shiro stayed towards the exit points to take care of in coming threats. This time, the security was more up to date than they’d like to admit.

Hunk and Pidge had called for backup. It made sense considering there was little to no threats around the three paladins. For extra precautions Lance and Shiro went to help while Keith stay behind. That was a poor mistake on their part.

Instead of taking care of the soldiers one by one Keith trapped them in their entry point by shutting the door and smashing the control panel next to it. He wouldn’t be able to get in to that are, but then again, they wouldn’t be able to get out. He considered it a win-win and quickly made his way to the bottom of the ship.

As he thought, the access was fairly simple. He made it in without a sound or disturbance and was able to gain the information he wanted even with his basic knowledge of hacking from Pidge. He scoffed at how simple it was. The voice in the back of his head reminded him, nothing is ever this easy, Keith.

In that moment a soldier had infiltrated his area and began his spar with Keith. Keith, obviously more trained and suitable for combat, had the upper hand. But, the soldier had caught him off guard. Mid-way into the fight the soldier had thrusted it’s staff into Keith’s leg. He yelped out in pain and fell to the floor for a moment. With his adrenaline running and determination pumping he was able to make another slash before the soldier was down and out for the count.

He knew he needed medical attention, but how was he going to explain this one to the others? Keith was one of the most on-guard people in the team and the chances of one of the soldiers him, Lance, and Shiro were facing, one of them hitting him? It comes off far too sketchy. The soldier that attacked him was obviously more trained than the others and Keith had focused all his attention on to one thing. It was so unlike him. If he had told them what happened then the chances were they wouldn’t allow him to take on a solo mission or perhaps even any mission. They’re not going to tolerate a trouble kid like himself.

So, he hid it. It wasn’t that hard, actually. He was used to hiding injuries when he was younger from all kinds of people. Injuries from the fight he got in to, injuries adults gave him, injuries he gave himself, hiding what caused him pain wasn’t a new concept to Keith and therefore became a piece of cake.

He had made his way to his room after that mission without the suspicions of a single person. He inspected his leg and determined it was only sprained at a severe degree. It just needed to be ensured a set position and Keith would be fine as long as no pressure was put on it. So, he took some bandages from the First AID kit in his utility belt that everyone was provided with and wrapped his leg in to a proper hold. He then propped his leg up on two pillows and went to sleep.

His intentions were to sleep most of the discomfort off and then wake up the next morning and take it slow at training. He could excuse himself by his tiredness or busy thoughts. If need be he was willing to blame his training partners excel in technique if it came down to it. After a day of that his leg should be fine. It was supposed to be fine. But his plan didn’t exactly work.

When he woke up his leg seemed to hurt more than the night prior. It must have been more severe than Keith had thought. He forgot to take in to consideration how his body’s shock had lessened the pain. He was diagnosing himself based off pain. He of all people should know that pain had no relation to injuries. It’s a reaction, not a correlation.

So, here he was. Right in front of Lance. Both of them in their suits. Ready to spar. No, his plan didn’t work out how he hoped.

“Giving up, Mullet? You’re slacking.” Lance smirks as he’s far too prideful of himself and everyone knows this. Although, some would admire his modesty as admiring yourself that much was a gift that most people couldn’t afford.

“I’m just tired. Long night.” Keith growls back, not wanting to give Lance the satisfaction.

“Excuses, excuses.” Lance whines with mockery.

The two had been circling each other for only a few moments as the match had just started. They didn’t simple drills earlier and Lance had taken note to the sloppy moves Keith provided. He planned on using it as taunting material. Circling each other was an easy way for Keith to hide his injury. The quick slide from one foot to the other also sufficed as limping for him. But, the others couldn’t tell, it all looked the same.

Lance makes the first move. He comes at Keith with a sharp pivot kick. Keith blocks it with the back of his forearm. Lance continues with two more kicks to which Keith also blocks with ease. By the third kick Lance is in Keith’s personal space. Keith takes advantage of this and grabs Lance’s wrist, pulls it forward, and pushing the back of Lance’s suit. Keith is quick and moves himself out of the way as Lance stumbles. He’s close to the ground but manages to keep himself up. He looks back at Keith with a scoff and the two circle again.

Just as the circling began it had stopped. Keith had smiled at his ability to get the upper hand on Lance. It wasn’t hard, but it always pleased him. He was finding so much humor and excitement in the actions that the had completely forgotten about the strain in his leg. So, it came back to haunt him.

Due to all the stress Keith had been placing on the leg it’s movements began far to slow for the rest of Keith’s body. As his leg delayed in actions the other burst with energy, causing his body to twist. He felt his leg twist along with it and swore he felt something crack. He went straight to the ground with a yelp.

At first he was at his side but he was quick to turn on to his back. Everything inside him told him to get back up and play it off because they couldn’t know. But it didn’t matter what he wanted, his body had different plans. So he gave in to the ground with embarrassment. His good leg bent with his foot flat on the ground and knee in the air for comfort. His other leg lay uncomfortably against the floor and throbbed with pain. To avoid the looks and embarrassment that follow, Keith covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow as he plopped his arm over his face.

“Whoa, I didn’t even touch you.” Lance scoffs. After only a few seconds of victory he realizes something is wrong with Keith, so do the others, “Hey, man. Are you Ok?”

Keith doesn’t respond. He still doesn’t want to admit that he’s hurt. He wants to avoid that part for as long as he can. Everyone suddenly comes rushing over to see what’s going on. Most of the teammates hovered over him but Shiro and Coran kneeled on either side.

“Hey, what happened? Are you hurt?” Shiro begins his concerned questions. Keith doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to answer. He can’t answer. God, this is a mess.

“Lance, what did you do?” Pidge asks the blue paladin with obvious annoyance.

“I didn’t do anything! At least, I don’t think I did.” Lance is quick to defend himself. Keith feels bad for causing Lance to take the blame for this. He didn’t deserve it. While the short debate had went on, Coran had started checking over Keith for any obvious injuries. The moment his hands came in contact with his leg, Keith gave a reaction.

“Gah!” Keith yelped as his body hunched forward and he tried pulling his leg away on instinct. This only caused more pain and Keith groaned. He was now sitting up with his hands behind him to support him, “Don’t do that.” Keith insisted, lacking his usual anger as he was in too much pain to be mad.

“Is it your leg?” Shiro asks after the incident.

“No, Shiro. It’s my shoulder . Yes, it’s my leg.” Keith snaps back at Shiro’s question.

“Well, I’m sorry. You weren’t answering any of my other questions.” Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Sherlock.” Keith mumbled, not pleased with the situation.

“Lance, get over here. Help me get him to the med bay.” Shiro orders, already planning out the next actions.

“I’m fine.” Keith grits through his teeth. Shiro glares at him as Lance makes his way over.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt him more.” Lance is hesitant about helping.

“You’re not the one that hurt me.” Keith annoyingly assures Lance so he didn’t have to feel the guilt. He then realized how his wording ended up ruining all faith in lies. He simply could have said Lance didn’t hurt him, but no. He implied that someone else had and that there was a being out there that did this to him. Keith just wanted to smack his head against a wall repeatedly.

“Who did?” Hunk asks, obviously concerned about his fellow teammate.

“Galran soldier.” Keith mumbles out and kept his eyes off their looks as he looked down and to the side only slightly.

“But, we haven’t left the Castle today.” Pidge argues with Keith’s reasoning.

“Didn’t happen today.” Keith mumbles out again, obviously embarrassed by the words leaving his mouth. Now that he was saying it out loud he realized how stupid he was and how unreasonable .

“This happened yesterday ?” Shiro exclaims in mortification. All Keith can do is nod, ashamed in himself for his actions. He finds he’s used to that as there’s  lot for him to be ashamed of.

“Keith, buddy, you have royally screwed up.” Lance comments with his arms crossed as he looked down at Keith. Keith glares at him but doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

“Why didn’t you say anything, man? You know we would’ve helped you.” Hunk questions with sweet promises that everyone nods at.

“I know, I know. I just-” Keith sighs and takes a moment to choose his words kindly, “It was my fault. You guys shouldn’t have to clean up my messes.” Keith explains his thought process. He wasn’t lying, no it wasn't a lie. But, it wasn’t the entire truth either.

“But you shouldn’t have to suffer alone . That’s not how a team works.” Pidge explained the other side of the argument Keith had formed in his head and reasoned against its meaning.

“Can we just fix this? Please.” Keith asks with discomfort in the conversation. They were showing him so much kindness that he felt he truly didn’t deserve. He was lying to them. He’s been lying to them. If they were to find out the truth and know he took advantage of their kindness then they would never look at him the same. He finally had people involved in his life that he cared about. He couldn’t lose that now.

“Alright, but we’re not done with this.” Shiro clears up as Keith smiles at him.

Shiro smiled back and the glare in his eyes told Keith all he needed to know. The way Lance gently touched Keith in order to help him move spoke the truth. Hunk’s reassuring words to Keith no matter what happened spilled what he always wanted to hear. The way Pidge ensured all of the technology for the pod was working broke all the walls of lies he built in his mind. Coran’s caution towards the next actions due to Keith’s body difference warmed his heart with care. Allura’s sweetness and assurance that sugar coated Keith never made life so lovely before. It was all of this. It told him what he needed to know.

They cared. They would always care.

Keith didn’t hide injuries anymore.

Chapter Text

When everything had finally calmed down and the paladins were released from the hospital they all went to their families, as to be expected. They were finally back on Earth and that’s all they could have wished for. Was to be in the one place that felt like home. Keith didn’t really have anyone he was waiting for on Earth. He doubted the fact that anyone knew of his disappearance as most people didn’t even know he existed or if he was alive or not. Very few people cared. He knew Adam cared, at least Adam cared. But, Adam hadn’t made it. So that left Keith back at square one and the realization that no one on Earth missed him.

He didn’t really take the realization to heart. He knew his team cared. They were like his family. Krolia, his Mom, she loved him more than he thought possible. He considered the other paladins his siblings, Shiro more than ever. Coran was like a Father figure to him. The list goes on to prove that he had a reason to be here and a good one of that. But it still pained him to know that no one on Earth was going along with their day with Keith in the back of their mind, missing his voice, his words, his presence, him . Even if not a single person missed him, he knew a place did.

A few weeks after the discharge from the Hospital he decided to go back to the shed. It was his shed. Walking up to the front door was something of glory to Keith. He hadn’t expected it to have stayed. He expected the Galra or at least the Garrison to have demolished it and used the land for something else, but apparently its placement was far too exact and hidden for anyone to bother with.

He slowly opened the door and soaked in the crisp feel of the creaking wood and soft wind. He smiled at the sounds and the sights. He never knew how badly he had longed to be back here. He didn’t bother closing the door and made his way to the living room. It was this room that he first met Hunk, Lance, and Pidge. Or, perhaps he had met Hunk and Lance before but he never knew them. On the few occasions he met Matt he recalled him mentioning a sibling he now recognized as the green paladin, but he never knew Pidge. This living room had meaning.

He trailed his fingers across the softly tainted pictures and strings on his discovery board. He scoffed at how much he knew compared to those months. The development was hilarious to him. Beside the board he was near the corner of the room. Typically there lay his Dad’s box that held his handgun. He had kept it locked there for the unlikely occurrence that it would be needed. Keith was shocked to find that the lock had been broken off and the box opened. The gun was nowhere to be found.

“What…?” Keith trailed off. He heard the creak of the wood behind him and on instinct he turned around to face the culprit with furrowed brows. But, the culprit was more prepared. The moment Keith turned around a gunshot sound filled the air.

Keith’s response delayed and it took him a moment to realize what happened. He looked down to see a dark crimson red seeping out through his right abdomen. Perhaps it was the shock, but all he felt was pressure. He knew it was bound to catch up to him soon but his mind hadn’t worked it out that far.

He stumbled back as his body felt tingly. He felt weak with the threat of numbness that he wanted to set in but only taunted him. When his back hit the bookshelf his legs gave out and he slid to the floor, the presence of the bookcase supporting him. In pure shock he looked up to see who shot him. The man was slightly plump with a messy peach fuzz on his face. His clothes were dirty and worn out but the gun in his hand shiny. That wasn’t his gun. That belonged to Keith’s Dad. Not him .

The man scoffed, “Knew this dump belonged to someone important but a paladin? Even better.” The man noted at his discovery of a catch.

“What do you want?” Keith grits through his teeth as the pain was starting to set in and he just wanted his body to bare through it for a few more moments.

“Do you know what kind of money your friends will pay to get their precious friend back? A lot, bud. A lot.” The man explains, “I’m gonna go grab some rope I left in my jeep, don’t go anywhere.” He winks at Keith, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move much, let alone escaped.

Keith growled at him and watched him leave the shack. He needed to think of a plan, but the pain was all he could focus on. A hot burning sensation took place all over his body but more or so on his lower right side. He looked down and saw that most of his white uniform was red. The pricks of white hot pain may have been bad, but the feeling of warm blood, his blood , washing across his skin and dripping down was what hurt him the most. Something had never made him feel so uncomfortable before. That was the worst part.

He knew he needed to at least slow the bleeding, so he pushed on the darkest part with his left hand, wrapping his arm around his torso. With his other arm he reached into his pant pocket, and pulled out his phone. The movement pained him more than he’d like to admit, but he pushed it down and sighed out in relief when he managed the phone. He didn’t really comprehend what he was supposed to do. Everything felt blurry and he really didn’t understand anything.

He’s not sure how, but he manages to open the emergency app set up on his phone. He’s met with a large red button and quickly presses it to alert the others. His phone flashes red a couple times to let him know that its been sent. Everyone went to the Garrison today for a meeting, so he knew everyone was there at least. Whether or not they had their phones on them was something he didn’t know.

He stuffs his phone back in his pocket and looks around him. All he has to do is hold off until the others get here. There has to be something. He can’t just give up. He notices a frying pan left out and the open door, door going inside. He struggled to scoot himself with segments of winces and sharp pains. He quickly manages under the counter and grabs the pan. He then goes against the wall by the door, hiding behind it. He just had to wait for this stupid guy to come back.

Keith’s chances were looking good. He didn’t see any other signs of life around here when he arrived, so the guys jeep must’ve been far. He had time. He took his phone out again to look at it. A wave of sharp pain washed over him as he was baptized with whimpering hate against his body. He heaved breaths out, trying to calm himself down. He would be alright. Yes, he would be alright.

His phone started to shake slightly and he looked down to see the name ‘Shiro’ light up on his phone. He doesn’t hesitate to swipe the green button and answer the call. The comfort of Shiro’s voice comes through and Keith swears he’s never been so happy to hear another man’s voice. He chuckles to himself.

“Keith, what’s going on?” Shiro quickly asks.

“Shack. Now. Help.” Keith can only make out a few words at a time but is eager to explain what it is he needs. He winces between the words.

“What’s he saying?” A hushed voice is heard near Shiro. Keith can make it out as Lance.

“The shack, go to the shack, Hunk.” Shiro announces and the sound of wheels turning and metal moving is slightly heard through the phone.

“Is he alright?” A different voice, Pidge, he thinks. He smiles at everyone’s presence. He knows that Garrison vehicles can only fit four people so he knows that’s everyone but still wishes for the company of others.

“What happened, Keith. Are you hurt?” Shiro aims towards the other paladin, catching him slightly off guard as he felt himself starting to go out of it. Thankfully Shiro snapped him back.

“Got shot.” Keith makes out in one puff, wincing right after.

“What?!” Shiro exclaims. This is followed by a bunch of other similar exclamations from the others that Shiro ignores.

“There is. A bullet. Inside. Of me.” Keith repeats, taking a breath or a moment to winces between the segments.

“God, Keith.” He can hear Shiro worry, it’s a weird connection to have with a person, “He got shot. Like, bullet shot, not laser shot.” Shiro’s voice is now directed towards the others.

Keith can hear the others exclaim once again with concern. He doesn’t pay mind to them as his brain is far too fuzzy for him to comprehend background noise. But, he is able to comprehend the sound of footsteps outside, aiming for the door. It’s only one pair so he knows it’s not his friends and whines to himself. He ends the call and tucks his phone away, not wanting the man to have any indication of his presence. He feels and hears the man walk through the threshold as all that was separating them was a line of wood.

“Alright- Hey?” The man is utterly confused when he sees that Keith isn’t in his usual spot. Keith takes this small moment of weakness as his opportunity and forces himself to stand behind the man and quickly smack the frying pan over his head. His force isn’t enough as his body put too much energy in to standing so all it does is cause the man immense pain. He grabs at his head with a yelp and turns around to face Keith, who panics.

“Why, you little-” The man growls and grabs the pan out of Keith’s hand, tossing it away. Keith isn’t sure what to do next and finds himself make attempts at punching the man. They’re fairly pathetic and don’t do any damage. His legs give out again and he falls to the floor. The man goes with him.

The two wrestle for a moment, Keith trying to use what strength he has left to overpower him for just a moment longer. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. The man manages Keith into a headlock at some point, catching Keith off guard. Both of Keith’s hands, bloodied by his wound, go up to grab at his arm, trying to pull it away but only managing it away enough for him to breath slightly. It’s still not enough as he feels like he’s choking. Well, he is.

His vision starts to go blurry and is filled with black dots as his gasps fill the air. He doesn’t know what happens next or who is involved or if any words are said, but suddenly the grasp is left and Keith is open to breath. He rolls onto his side and heaves attempts at breathing. Everything is just so painful and he wants it to stop. Even if he’s not being choked any longer he still finds it hard to breath. The air around him too thin and his lungs too dry. A hand in on his back, rubbing comforting circles as he tries to calm down. He doesn’t remember when he closed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to open them now. He just wants this all to be a dream. A painful dream.

He falls onto his back when he’s managed to catch his breath and allows his exhausted body a break. There are hands near his wound and materials he knows are bandages that are supposed to help him but he still can’t help but groan and shift with his uncomfortable position of mind. As he opens his eyes the voices start drowning back in.

“Pidge, be careful.” The man whose hand is now on his shoulder says. Keith looks to see that it’s Hunk and he can’t find the energy to react.

“I know, I know. I’m being as careful as I can be, Hunk. But he’s shot .” Pidge relies with defense. Hunk’s face softens with empathy as he looks back down at Keith. When he sees that his eyes are open and he’s aware his mood changes.

“Hey, man. Are you with us?” Hunk says with such smooth words that Keith wouldn’t mind hearing it for the rest of the day.

“Ow.” Is all Keith can say as he stares up at the ceiling, just wanting to sleep so he doesn’t have to feel anything.

“I know, man. Lance and Shiro are making sure that guy is tied up for when more people come. They’ll be back in any moment now. A medical team is coming, too. Just hold on a little longer, alright?” Hunk explains what’s going on and Keith hears all of it but only comprehends the last part.

“Alright.” Keith mumbles out with loss of energy. Two pairs of feet come rushing in and over to the scene. On kneels beside Hunk while the other standing behind Pidge.

“How is he?” Keith can hear Shiro ask, but he doesn’t give him attention. He’s already closed his eyes and found comfort in the darkness as it didn’t threaten him with colors.

“I think he’s a little out of it.” Hunk notes to the others.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s done deadly damage, but if he doesn’t get help it just might. I think it shattered a couple ribs which may have punctured his liver, there’s no exit wound so it didn’t make it far. It being stuck there is the only reason he’s not bleeding out right now, at least not severely.” Pidge adds on. The others will never cease to be amazed at the ability to determine such thing the moment on sight.

“Well, the med team should be here in under a minute.” Lance informs the others as he was the one to make the call. The others nod at the information.

“We just gotta keep him comfortable until then.” Hunk declares the point of action until then. Everyone’s eyes fall back on Keith.

“Hey, bud.” Shiro’s soothing voice approaches Keith. He opens his eyes and looks to Shiro with his reassuring smile.

“What…?” Is all Keith can make out. He knows they’re words but he doesn’t really take the time to find meaning in them. He doesn’t see the point anymore.

“Are you sure he’s even aware?” Lance asks before putting his attention back on Keith, “Hey, man. Do you know who I am?” He asks as if Keith is a child. Keith faces Lance. He’s managed to understand the last part.

“A bitch.” Keith mutters before placing his head back on the floor and closing his eyes. Lance turns to the group as he’s not amused, but the others are.

“Yup, he’s aware.” Lance mutters out, not pleased with the outcome. The others take a moment to laugh. Hunk looks back at Keith.

“You’re gonna be alright, man.” He promises as the sound of sirens and footsteps rushing through the air. Yeah, he’s gonna be alright.

Chapter Text

Keith didn't get sick. That just didn't happen. He's lived on his own for a good amount of time and that meant his exposure was very little. He never got sick. Perhaps on a few occasions he got a fever or a headache he could sleep off, but it was nothing bad.

Yet, here he was, sick as can be. He doesn't remember how it started and it didn't make sense. He just woke up and everything hurt . His body burned as if his skin were melting. His head throbbed against the walls, as if it were attempting to break out. He wasn’t going to throw up. No, he knew he wasn’t going to empty the contents of his stomach. But, his body threatened him with future promises of what was yet to come. It was this churning feeling in his stomach that whisked the beginning of a terrible time. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was sick .

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hurry up, Angst Lord! You’re missing breakfast!” A voice Keith recognized as Lance yelled at him.

The problem was that Keith simply didn't care. He didn’t pay any mind to Lance’s words and stayed in the comforts of his own bed. Perhaps comfort wasn’t the best word to use, but there could be worse things to do. He felt his body drip with disgust as he’s never felt this terrible before. At least, not in a long time. He just wanted to go back to bed and wake up and find that it had left. That’s all he wanted. Was that too much to ask?

“Hey! I said get up, Mullet!” Lance yells once again. Keith groans, just wanting him to shut up . Lance was far too loud and talked far too much for Keith’s comfort. Apparently his groan was heard through the walls, “Don’t ‘uhhhg’ me!”

Lance’s protest can be heard firing up but Keith still didn’t care. He just cared about his bed. His pillows. His blankets. Everything he could find peace in right now. Lance, was not one of those things. He heard his door open and Lance walk through. This was going beyond what he wished for. The moment Lance walked in Keith grabbed a stray pillow and pathetically chucked it at Lance, keeping his face down in the pillows.

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed angrily as he caught the pillow and held it in his hand. He took note to Keith’s state, “I try to be a good teammate and ensure your diet is in place, and this is the treatment I get?” Lance complains.

“You’re trying to be a whiny bitch and doing quite a swell job.” Keith deadpanned with his face stuffed into his pillow, barely muffling his words and causing Lance to assume a couple words, but he got the gist.

“Get out of bed before Shiro kills me for not doing what he told me to do.” Lance ordered, adding his own hide on to the line as if that would mean anything to Keith sick or not. Lance noticed that shallow breathing of Keith and how he had started to drift off, “Hey!”

Lance yells again, throwing the pillow back at Keith. Keith just grunts at the actions and turns on his side to face the wall. The movement caused a disturbance in his lungs as he fell into a coughing fit. A cacophony of hacks wheezed from his body that scratched lines against his throat. He felt pins poke and pride at his skin and the disgusting aftertaste of phlegm prode around his mouth.

“Jesus.” Lance mutters at the painful sound. He carefully and slowly walks over with a different approach in his mind. This, in some way or another, reminded Lance of the times he had to take care of Nadia or Sylvio when they were ill. His Uncle-like instincts started to kick in. He reached his hand over to feel Keith’s forehead but Keith refused. He covered his head with the blanket to avoid Keith. The two began fighting over the placement of the blanket, pulling and tugging back and forth, “Come on...Keith...Stop being so...difficult.”

Lance insists between grunts but at the end eventually manages to get the blanket down to show Keith’s face. Keith gave up and winced at the sudden reveal. Changes were amped for him, even if they were small and insignificant. He lays on his back but his head is directed towards the wall. Lance takes his opportunity to place the back on his hand of Keith’s forehead, the middle and the sides. After only a couple seconds of that, Keith has had enough.

“Off.” Keith demands as he swats Lance’s hand away. Lance doesn’t acknowledge the attitude in Keith’s voice rather than the heat on his skin.

“Damn, Keith. You’re burning up.” Lance comments, as if Keith didn’t know that already.

“Good job, Sherlock. You’ve cracked the case.” Keith numbly comments with sarcasm at his friend. It’s dulled and watered down due to his sickly state.

“I’m just trying to help.” Lance goes on to defend himself.

“I don’t need your help.” Keith mumbles as he can feel himself starting to drift off once again. Even in his worst moments he has to be so stubborn . It’s beginning to tick Lance off and he wants so badly to just tell him off, but has to hold back.

“You’re a Korean Barbecue, Keith. You need something .” Lance comments on what he’s noticed so far.

“I need you to get out of my room, that’s what I need.” Keith answers the inquiry as if it needed be. He just wanted to be left alone right now and didn’t care how rude he was being. He’d deal with the consequences later.

“I’ll get out of your room, but I’m coming back with Coran or Shiro or just- someone so we can fix this .” Lance verbalized his plan of action.

Keith had the intentions of commenting back with something snappy because Lance just pissed him off all the time. He doesn’t mind Lance as a person. His personality traits are exceptionally talented and useful. Although, he somehow always knows just the right way of getting under Keith’s skin, and he wasn’t in the mood. Probably because that earlier threat was turning into a present assault.

He knew the familiar turning of gears in his stomach that prepared him for the heaves. Even if everything hurt he didn’t want to throw up in his bed . He slept there. He had to get out of his bed and make it to the bathroom. It was only a few steps away.

“Wha-“ Lance questions as Keith rushes past him.

Lance gets a glimpse of him and it’s terrible. Keith’s skin is paler than usual, if that was even possible. He was sweating so much that a good section of his hair had started to matt against his forehead. The circles under his eyes emphasizes the redness under his eyelids. His lips chapped and body seemingly shaking. He looked completely wrecked . Lance had to follow him into the bathroom.

He rushes in, following Keith, and watches him. Keith, within a second, is kneeling on the floor and grabbing the edges of the toilet as he empties the contents of him stomach and Lance watches. After a few violent heaves Keith leans his forehead against his arm, his head directly above the toilet. Lance saw his back hunch and body arch when the heaves were particularly bad.

He felt so guilty not doing anything, by just standing there. But he knew Keith wouldn’t let him touch him. It would only set Keith off more and worsen his state. Lance didn’t want to be responsible for that. All he could do was watch, and that was the worst feeling.

He knew he needed to go get help so they could treat Keith, but he figured he should at least get Keith back in to bed first. He would let Keith finish his vomiting first. He noted to how Keith kept having to push his hair away and out of his face. Lance felt the urge to make a joke about the stupid mullet and how it caused more harm than good, but he deemed the timing not right. Instead, he looked around the bathroom. He found a rubber band holding a couple bottles for hygiene together. He removed it for his own actions. He walked over to Keith and began gathering his hair back in to a bunch.

“What are you-“ Keith began his protest, as Lance suspected. The anger in his voice and brows furrowed as he turned to Lance. But his own body cuts him off as another wave of body curls began. Lance used this as his time to tie Keith’s hair into a quick ponytail. He’s used to it. He’s done it multiple times for Nadia and sometimes even Rachel or Veronica. It’s not that difficult.

When he’s done he makes sure to back away and give Keith his space. He succumbs to leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He’s never held such a neutral expression for so long but how could he not? He’s never experienced something like this with someone like Keith. He barely knew him, he didn’t know how to comfort him and this hurt Lance. All he wanted to do was help people and now he couldn’t help Keith.

When Keith’s heaving seems to have stopped he falls back against the wall to breath. He rests his arm on his knee and lays his head back on the wall with eyes shut tight. He took a moment to just breath as his body used most of it up. His chest aches painfully as it fell as if rocks were rattling against his ribs whenever he heaved. He was convinced his body was actually trying to throw up his guts . He never understood the phrase but now he did. God, did it hurt.

Keith opens his eyes to take in his surroundings as he hadn’t done that before. The moment his eyes open he closes them again. The light in the bathroom is far too much for him to handle. He winces and covers his eyes. Lance takes note to this. Staying in his position he doesn’t move more than a hand and flips the switch off, darkening the room. Keith can sense the warm darkness surrounding him and opens his eyes again. He blinks away the blurriness and looks up to Lance.

“Better?” Lance asks, hoping Keith is done.

All Keith does is nod and Lance hates how it looks. Keith’s so congested that he’s breathing through his mouth and the ghostly figure he had before had died and been resurrected. He just looked awful. His pupils enlarged with tears threatening his eyes. Lance knew it was from the heaving and that Keith wasn’t actually crying, but thinking about the small chance that he was made Lance uncomfortable. Keith didn’t deserve this.

“Sleep?” Lance suggests the next actions.

“Sleep.” Keith clarified with a nod. His voice is hoarse and scratchy and it digs against Lance. He makes a mental note to have Hunk bring Keith water after Lance gets him in the bed.

Lance walks over and offers a hand to Keith. He stares at it and for a moment Lance thinks he’s not gonna take it. Ultimately Keith accepts the offer and has Lance pull him up so he’s standing on his own two feet. Lance hands position to help Keith walk. With what strength Keith has left, he tries getting Lance away.

“I can walk.” Keith insists, his voice no better from before.

“You can barely stand on your own, you can’t walk on your own. Alright, Keith? So, suck up your pride and let me help you.” Lance argues with Keith’s protest.

Keith wants to argue back, he really does. But he’s just so tired . He doesn’t respond but let’s Lance continue to help him. It takes longer than he’d like, but he makes it to the bed. From there Lance let’s him go on his own and Keith situates himself into the bed, once again facing the wall instead of Lance.

When he’s settled in Lance turns around and turns off the lights. He can still make out Keith’s figure and his rest, but doesn’t really pay mind to it. He’s about to alert Keith of where he’s going and what’s yet to come, but when he sees the shallow rise and fall of Keith’s body and hears the level breathing, he stops. Keith is asleep and Lance let’s him stay that way. He takes one more worrying glance at Keith before leaving the room and heading off to get the others. He doesn’t really help more than that and isn’t involved much with the recovery either. Perhaps he doesn’t give Keith the medicine, or bring his water and food, or place cold rags on his forehead, or bring in trash cans, maybe it’s that he did none of that. But, he knows, he helped Keith get better just as much as anyone else, and that, that is enough for him to sleep at night.

Chapter Text

“‘Go to the Garrison.’ They said. ‘It'll be fun.’ They said. ‘Everything will be fine .’ They said. Oh, yeah? Well, here were are, and everything is not fine. We're trapped in a creepy Galra storage room, we don't have any communication to Coran or Allura, and Keith has a God damn concussion .” Lance began to panic, pacing back and forth. Their situation was bad and he wasn't good in situations like this. There wasn't much left to do.

“Lance, stop it.” Shiro ordered, gaining the attention of the blue paladin, “Sensitive to sound, remember?” Shiro referenced to the red paladin below him.

Keith was laid on the floor, his head in Shiro's lap for support. They took his helmet off in order to access the possible injuries, and boy were they bad. Pidge was currently trying to work the technology and get communication with Allura and Coran back in check. Hunk was acting as a Nurse, keeping Keith stable to the best of his ability and monitoring him and all his symptoms. Lance, well, he decided to panic.

“Sorry. Ok? Sorry.” Lance quickly apologized with a whisper and made his way over to the injured paladin. He looked to Hunk, “Any better?”

“Well, he's not worse?” Hunk offers on the table of positivity to which Lance accepts with a nod.

“Shiro! I'm gonna need that arm of yours!” Pidge yells from what control areas that can be accessed.

“Let's switch out.” Shiro taps Hunk with the back of his hand.

Hunk nods before acting. Shiro uncomfortably scoots back as Hunk slips in, placing Keith’s head in his lap. The movement earned a groan to hiss from Keith’s lips. Everyone frowned upon hearing it but didn’t mention it out loud. Lance assumed he’d be taking Hunk’s previous position as Nurse, but he really didn’t want to. He only knows so much.

“I want a new head.” Keith whined, keeping his eyes closed to avoid the almost nonexistent light in the room.

“Uh huh, and how are you gonna get that, buddy?” Lance jokes along, even if it wasn’t the joking time.

“Space Craigslist.” Keith adjusts himself and winces at the movement.

“Why Craigslist?” Hunk questions. There were far more reasonable and trustworthy websites, why this one?

“Slightly used but half the price.” Keith answer after a minor coughing fit erupts. Hunk smiles while Lance scoffs with light humor.

“I think I like concussed Keith better than normal Keith.” Lance comments.

“I think I like no Lance better than normal Lance.” Keith hoarsely responds before a rough cough emits, causing Hunk to reassuringly rub at his shoulder.

“Ok, so now that- that was just rude.” Lance points at the Paladin laying down, not earning a reaction from him.

Keith knows that someone says something next. Perhaps it was Hunk, maybe Lance? He can’t really tell because the ringing in his ears has popped back in from its first appearance when he had his head smacked into the wall by that Galran soldier. With what colors he can make out the world seems to spin and he rolls his head, trying to balance it out but ultimately doing nothing so he closes his eyes and listens to the rusty bells chime against his skin. His head is starting to feel worse than before and he hates it. He feels like his head is between two walls that are slowly closing in together and they’ve reached a dangerous point. He just wants to focus his body on something else. He wants the pain to be anywhere but his head. Just anything to get rid of this terrible scratch against his brain. He feels the familiar vertigo wash over him but is lucky enough to be able to keep his lunch in.

“-eith? Hey, man?” A voice quietly starts drowning in as Keith knows this person is whispering, but it still feels like yelling to him. He groans at the sound as the ringing drains away while he comes back to the land of the living.

“Are you with us?” The voice asks again, to which Keith finds is Hunk. He looks up through squinted eyes to see Hunk hover above him. He doesn’t find the mental capacity to realize his head is resting in Hunk’s lap or Lance’s presence.

“What? What’s going on?” Keith whispers as everything feels dry and ashy against his words.

“You’ve got a concussion, man. We’re trying to contact Allura and Coran.” Hunk explains, slightly worried by the red paladins confusion.

“Mmm.” Keith hums a nod, “Who?”

“Allura and Coran, you remember, bud?” Hunk concerningly asks again with furrowed brows, staring at Keith’s closed eyes and resting head. All Keith does is hum a yes. No, he doesn’t remember but he can’t really process his own existence right now. He’s just kinda there and it doesn’t even scare him, he succumbs to it. Although, it does scare Hunk, “Lance, he doesn’t remember.”

“Calm down, man. It’s just the concussion talking.” Lance assures his best friend, not wanting him to panic “He’s just kinda disoriented right now, he’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hunk desire comfort as he’s worried about his friend. He worries about all his friends but even more so in such a terrible state.

“Yes, Hunk. I’m sure.” Lance chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. He doesn’t like seeing his friend so distraught, “We’ll put him in a pod and next thing you know he’ll pop out with his same brooding bad boy look he always has.”

“Right, right.” Hunk nods, attempting to calm himself down. He’s thankful for Lance as he’s so used To Hunk’s moments of panic. While Hunk does this Lance smiles at his friend and then takes a small look to Keith, his smile turns into a frown when he sees Keith starting to peacefully sleep.

“Hey, Keith. No.” Lance scolds, snapping his fingers. This alerts Keith into consciousness but not mental stability, “You can’t fall asleep, man. You gotta stay awake.”

“What?” Keith’s response threatens a slur but it’s not quite there yet. His eyes roll lazily as he can’t control much of what he does now, everything feels off .

“Awake. Alright?” Lance attempts to clarify.

“I…” Keith trails off, not entirely sure where he planned on taking that sentence so he gives up with quiet murmurs and slurred tones.

“I’ll take that as a, ‘Yes, Lance. I understand.’” Lance nods at his work, not really wanting to try and push any further.

“Guys, we’re in contact with Allura and Coran!” Pidge announces happily.

“Woo hoo!” Hunk and Lance cheer and high-five each other. This results in a painful groan from Keith, they immediately calm down, “Oh, sorry.” They both whisper.

Hunk sighs out with relief and tilts his head up, chuckling to himself. Lance is doing something similar as the whole experience just feels like some sick joke. Pidge smiles and continues to work with the technology. Shiro, on the other hand, leans against a wall as his Galra tech wasn’t needed any longer. He smiles and observes Keith, who somehow looks very comfortable and peaceful in Hunk’s arms. Shiro’s not used to seeing him so relaxed so he cherishes the moment as he never knows when he’ll get it again.

“We’ll go home, bud. Wherever that is, we'll go home. One day. I promise.” Shiro whispers. No one hears him but somewhere in the Universe he knows his message is sent and Keith understands that Shiro always keeps his promises.

Chapter Text

The act of eating caused Keith to feel mixed emotions. Truth be told, he wasn’t fond of it, but not for the reasons you’d think. It was inconvenient compared to his schedule. He needed time to train, plan, commute, and anything in between. Adding daily activities such as sleep, hygiene, and eating became a privilege. He refused to give up hygiene, as the possibility of becoming ill wasn’t a factor he could risk, he needed to continue on with his well-being. At first he gave up sleep. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. Instead of the typical 8 hours he got, he moved it down to 6 hours, and then 5 hours, and now he was functioning on 3 hours of sleep. If he gave up any more he might fall back in his plans, which he wasn’t Ok with. So, he gave up on eating. He first missed breakfast, which didn’t cause any concern amongst the others or even himself. Not many of them had the stomach to eat after waking up, and combining that with his hard work schedule, they figured he was sleeping in and allowed him to do so. He wouldn’t tell of what he actually did. Then, he gave up Dinner. It was a slow process as he lived off lunch and small snacks Hunk provided in-between. The others slowly grew concerned but kept their thoughts to themselves, as they didn’t want to upset him. But, all came crashing down since Keith has missed lunch the past two days. It’s been roughly 48 hours and the most he’s indulged is water. Adding his lack of rest with his malnourishment equaled an experienced Hell for Keith and all around him.

“Coran and I have been adjusting the simulator to accommodate your human features.” Allura points out, talking to the Paladins. Everyone was in a circle, placed as rank, which placed Keith between Shiro and Lance. He crossed his arms and continued on with his closed off persona.

“How’s it going?” Shiro asks, indulged in the conversation unlike Keith.

He had stopped listening, and perhaps it was on purpose but perhaps not, he really couldn’t tell. The air seemed to leave his lungs as a bitter-sweet frosting coated his skin. It felt refreshing but at the same time concerning. The world turned slightly so he closed his eyes, allowing his senses to recognize the white noise around him. He could feel his body slowly start to sway, as if he were tired, but he knew he was far more than exhausted. He was lost .

He opened his eyes, the world still spinning as he tried focusing his vision but his eyes slid across without his permission, trying to find comfort but ultimately getting none. He knew something was about to happen as his legs started to go stiff, or at least threatened to. He reached a hand out to whatever was closed to him, which was Lance’s shoulder. He gripped tightly as if his life depended on it. Lance turned his head, ready to yell and complain, but stopped at Keith’s state. So did everybody else.

“Keith?” Allura attempted to gain his attention.

“Something’s not right.” Keith breathed out his words in whisps of vowels.

With that statement he then proceeded to ruin himself once and for all. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as a small gasp heaved from his tainted lips. He knees gave out, bending to fall as his body went back and his vision black. He was out.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Shiro and Lance had both muttered, grabbing onto Keith’s arms in an attempt to break his fall as much as possible. They lowered themselves to the ground with him, laying him in to recovery position. He lay on his side with one leg bent. Lance took off his jacket and placed it under Keith’s head for support. Him and Shiro then sat back and looked at him as well as each other with worryingly glances.

“I’ll get a glass of water.” Hunk announces before running off, perhaps the most anxious of them all.

“And a cold rag.” Pidge adds in, going off with Hunk. Allura and Coran would stay incase they were needed as medical technology abroad the Castle was their specialty.

“Sorry, man.” Lance had quietly muttered, completely done with his own ignorance. The others didn’t need to ask as they knew what he meant. His statement directed towards Keith because they all knew something was going on with Keith but did nothing. Now he was hurt and they could have done something.  

“Oh, my boy.” Coran shook his head, but not at Keith but himself and the others. His feelings relating to Lance’s, not distant cousins but brothers in thought.

“Sometimes I swear you’re still 12.” Shiro mutters. In most given situations he'd be smiling as light humor traced his words, but it was all hollow now with a solemn look. He tends to forget how much Keith hasn 't changed from the day he met him. He's grown in more way than one, but the same issues would always be there.

“Got the rag.” Pidge announces, lightly jogging in to the room. Shiro nods a thank you and takes it into his own hands. He focuses back on Keith, as does everyone else, and lightly dabs the cold substance against Keith's head. It was a hopeful attempt to calm his body down and hurry up the process of him waking up.

Hunk came in only moments later, no words were exchanged as they were too busy focusing on Keith. He came in with three water pouches that Shiro sat aside for when Keith woke up. Now all they could do was wait, and most of them weren't really patient people.

They watch as Keith's arm slides along the floor and his legs fidget. His eyes are twitching and burrowing in confusion and desire. Everyone took note to the changes and became aware that he was waking up. They didn't say anything, not wanting to startle him. Luckily Shiro was right in front of him, ensuring a familiar face to be seen when he came to. But nothing they did could prepare either side for his reaction.

He had moved lazily, groaning here and there. Then his eyes slowly opened. Blinking once. Twice. Then he freaks out.

The suddenly closeness of people startled him as he lets out a gasp and pushed himself to scoot away from Shiro, who he hadn't processed the identity of yet. When he bumped in to Lance he only seemed to freak out more, pushing himself away from the group to stare at them with unfocusing dashing eyes of confusion and labored breathing. The others would typically be concerned had this not been a known common reaction, but they would continue with worrying.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, buddy. Easy.” Lance chuckles, not from humor but anxiety. He held his hands out as if to show Keith that he was safe and Lance had no intentions of harming him. Lance slowly inched his way over to Keith.

After Lance's words, Keith started to snap back. His breathing had altered from panicked breathing to exhaustion. His attention seemed to focus as he let out a relieved sigh and rests his body, letting his head fall to the floor and an arm to cover his eyes. He scoffed at himself, feeling another pot of emotions.

“I pass out?” Keith asked for clarification. Lance was simply resting on the back of his legs, realizing his approach was no longer needed as the others made their way over, Shiro closest.

“You passed out.” Shiro nods with his arms crossed, obviously not pleased with what had been going on because they didn't need an analysis for this.

“How long?” Keith was quick to ask questions. The others wanted to believe he was curious relating to his own health, but they knew it wasn't the case. He simply wanted to know how far behind on schedule he was or how inconvenient he was being. They struggled to answer.

“Few minutes.” Pidge responds for everyone. Keith just nods slightly at the information, slowly starting to catch his breath. Shiro decides to take this time for himself as no one else knows what to say.

“Keith, I-”

“Don't- Not now. Please.” Keith shakes his head before Shiro can even get that far in his conversation. He didn't need to, Keith knew him so well that he knew where he would be taking this and he knew he didn’t want to have to deal with it, not now at least.

“Fine.” Shiro’s attitude deflates as he accepts his surrogate brothers wishes. This doesn’t make the situation any less awkward though. Everyone had rushing thoughts that needed a break but were being denied access of a rest stop. They would be forced to settle with a more subtle approach, just switching out drivers was all.

“May I asses you, my boy?” Coran asks with a pleading look of his hopeful answer. His wisdom and innocence always gets the best of the others, Keith being no exception.

“Sure.” Keith deadpans, losing feeling in more than his fingertips as his nerves were buzzed. He moves his arm to look at the group above him. He sees that Shiro has his hand out and at first Keith only stares at the metal arm. He ultimately decides to grip tightly and allow Shiro to pull him to his feet. Shiro doesn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he pulls Keith in to a hug against his will but Keith finds that he doesn’t want to pull back, he just stands there and let’s Shiro.

“Give yourself a break. Please.” Shiro whispers his plea into Keith’s ear and the urgency causes Keith to freeze up with wide eyes. All he can do is nod at the words with silence. The desperation in Shiro’s voice broke Keith down, built him back again, and then tore away instead. He never wanted here his brother in that tone every again. So, he took a break.

Chapter Text

It was a single text; one text that set off the firecracker that was Keith's disappearance.

He was supposed to go to the Holt's place for homework, it was as simple as that. Shiro sent him a text, asking him if he got there safely.

15 minutes later, Shiro thought nothing of it.

30 minutes later, Shiro is assuming Keith is messing with him.

45 minutes later, Shiro is hoping it's a joke.

1 hour later, he knows; Keith's missing . He calls up Matt to explain the situation and the two of them go to the Police Station.

1.5 hours later, the two have spent what seems like forever answering questions. Pidge had relayed the information to the rest of the friend group.

2 hours later, they've sent out an Amber Alert for the 17 year old boy as well as a recovery team to scan the area. Lance, Hunk, Allura, and Romelle meet up at Pidge's house

2.5 hours later, They've covered almost 3 quarters of the area and have no leads. Allura and Romelle have worked through half a box of tissues.

3 hours later, the Police silently start to give up hope. Out of all missing victims under the age of 18, only 24% survive past the 3 hour mark. They don't tell Shiro this.

6 hours later, the officials have ceased the search until further details or leads are provided. Shiro ends up spending the night at the Holt's place. So does everyone else. No one says much.

1 week later, it's the talk of the town and the friend group is sick of it. They don't want to be reminded 24/7 that their best friend could likely be dead or worse.

2.5 weeks later, Lance breaks. He's been trying to pretend he doesn't care, him and Keith are rivals afterall. But he can't pretend any longer. Matt and Shiro have to hold him back from hurting himself or others.

3 weeks later, Pidge and Hunk both don't leave their rooms for the whole day. They've become numb to the World and don't want anything to do with it. The don't eat or move or talk or live . It lasts a couple more days and the others have to interfere before their own minds end up being their demise. They had already lost one friend physically, they didn't need to lose two more mentally. The incident with Pidge and Hunk could argue to have been the worse because they were so numb that nothing could help.

1 month later, Shiro doesn't cry himself to sleep for the first time. Matt does cry himself to sleep for the first time.

2 months later, no one talks about it anymore. In fact, no one talks much in general. They can't handle the pain, the sorrow .

6 months later, they haven't moved on. They'll never move on. Although, they've started to live a new type of normal. They act as usual with their bursting personalities but still whimper in the dark of the night.

8 months later, Shiro gets a phone call; they found him.

“We're only allowing family back, I'm sorry.” The Doctor informs the group. Everyone freezes for a moment as Shiro nods and turns to them.

“I'll go see him. Stay here.” Shiro plans out as everyone nods.

He faces the Doctor, silently letting him know that he's ready to see his brother. The rest of the group goes to anxiously sit in the waiting room.

The walk is solemn and Shiro will never forget it nor its feeling. How could he? He'll forever remember the 3 digit number engraved to his mind as his eyes scrape past the 207. He watches the Doctor very slowly and carefully open the door to the room, as if he needed to be cautious. This set Shiro off a little.

The Doctor went in first and Shiro followed behind. His breath hitches when he catches a look at Keith in the hospital bed when the Doctor moves. He looks terrible. Broken. It's a melting sight to see.

His hair is longer and cleanly washed to hang past his shoulder. Something in his cut tells him he didn't look this clean when he came in, and the actual figure would scare him.

Keith may have been pale and skinny before, but he was healthy and muscular. He hadn't a need to worry. Now Keith looked like a blanket of a skin over a skeleton at a science fair. It seemed unreal , the color or his skin a ghostly white and face so thin.

The blanket stopped at his waist, but Shiro's not sure he'd want to see see the who picture. Keith's wearing a blue and white dotted gown to cover most of his chest. Shiro wants to see what's under, but knows he's not ready.

His face is perhaps the worst part. His left eye is slightly swollen with puffy purple and blue colors brushed against his skin. A patch of gauze is safely taped at the side of his neck and Shiro just wants to know what happened . His lips are pale and cracked and pursed in to a thin line. Small bruises and cuts roam his face but ultimately the whole picture was broken by his eyes. They weren't what Shiro had remembered. He was used to the museum of art that Keith's eyes held. Van Gogh and Picasso hung up their greatest works in those eyes and Shiro would be lying if he said he didn't envy their beauty compared to his bland eyes. But now? Now it was different. The pictures were torn and painted across and lost all the meaning they once had. Van Gogh and Picasso would be disappointed to see this. Such a shame to lose a good museum, but everything needs a little remodeling every now and then.

Shiro is a few feet away from the bed, too afraid of getting closer to upset Keith because he doesn't know what he's been through but he knows it's traumatizing. Keith looks at him with those wide eyes and tilts his head, his eyes watering. Shiro can see him hold back tears and he wants to yell. All Keith tries to do is hide his emotions but now of all times he should let them out. He has every right to.

“God, Keith.” Shiro whimpers as he covers his mouth with his hand as if it would conceal the truths, “Can I hug you?”

Keith lightly shakes his head no and Shiro nods in understanding back. This was going to be a journey for Keith and everyone else but no one would be able to heal if Keith wasn't. He goes on for light conversation.

“Everyone's missed you so much. It hasn't been the same without you.” Shiro comments, slightly worried when he gets no reaction from Keith but still holds his attention, “How are you feeling?”

He asks a light question and expects a light answer, but instead a receives no answer. Shiro waits patiently for a response but when he realizes one isn't coming he turns his attention to the Nurse, as if to ask why he won't respond. She sympathetically looks at him with sadness and Shiro already knows he won't like her words.

“He uh, he hasn't spoken since we brought him in. We were able to do a scan last night while he was asleep and the results came back this morning.” The moment takes a moment of silence before revealing the news, “His larynx has been removed.”

“Did you guys remove it?” Shiro asks hopefully, with wide eyes.

“No, Sir. We're afraid his captors did it unprofessionally probably 2 or 3 months prior.” She informs him.

“What? Why? Why would they do that?” Shiro runs his hand through his hair, trying to understand what would make a person do such horrible things.

“The likeness is that he was making too much noise. If you'd like we can talk in the hall and I can inform you of his current state?” The Nurse offers, not wanting this conversation to happen in front of Keith and Shiro respected her greatly for that.

“I'd appreciate that.” Shiro nods before giving Keith one last worrying glance. He's so blank. Shiro can't read him. He used to know this kid like the back of his hand, but now? Now he didn't even recognize his eyes as his own. The times have changed.

“We've been able to identify most of his injuries and treat most of them, but getting too close to him to still a risky take. Most of our treatment has been when he's asleep. We've recognized a severe malnourishment that we have an IV in for. We have treated the burns and cuts on his legs to the best of our ability along with his arms, although they were mostly alright. His torso is terrible. The wounds are severe and I think he's in too much pain to move. We're trying to give him morphine but most pain medications aren't mixing well alongside his nutrients.” She explains, both of them catching glances through the door window to make sure he's there because wow, he's there. He's back .

“Can you- Can you tell me what they did to him?” Shiro asks anxiously. He has so many questions and knows they all can't be answered at once but he wishes they could be.

“Are you sure you're ready for that, Sir?” She clarifies to which Shiro nods eagerly, “We still need clarification from Keith along with the captors to answer questions, but we can tell there's been severe physical, mental, and sexual abuse. We're not sure how bad the mental abuse is. Physically all of his wounds will be able to heal and he'll be able to function properly but left with a good amount of scars. We're testing him for any STI's right now.” She finally answers.

“Jesus Christ.” Shiro mumbles. He finds a chair behind him and falls back into it, running his hands through his hair with wide eyes and slight panic. There are far too many thoughts going through his mind and he couldn’t decide between deciphering them and ignoring them. It was a lot to take in and he felt at his limit but still, he needed to know more, “Will he ever be able to talk? With speech therapy?”

“I’m not sure. Without a larynx he’s unable to produce sound and we can’t do a transplant without assessing the damage done and so far it looks pretty bad.” She informs him. Shiro feels like he can’t breath. After all this time he finally gets his brother back and he still feeling alone. He still feels like he’s searching for that crazy little kid that rare smiles lit up the room like nothing else. To make Keith laugh was to win the lottery. He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. He just wants to hear Keith laugh. That’s all. He misses it. He misses the rasp tone to his voice that somehow felt like soft dots against his skin, so smooth. His eyes squinted and cheeks flushed, reminding Shiro how young he really is. It reminds him that he’s the older brother and his job is to protect this kid and he failed. He’s supposed to be the translator for Keith’s life choices, but he couldn’t even do that. So much has been broken and torn beyond repair, but above it all he only wished for a single thing. If he could have one wish in the world he wouldn’t wish for money or peace or fame, no, he wouldn’t wish for any of that. He wished he could just see his brother laugh one more time.

He’d soon find that his wish never got granted.

Chapter Text

“Shiro's looking for you, ya know?” A voice suddenly blurted out. Keith turns around from the concrete edge he's sitting on to see Lance walking over. He doesn't react at the taller boy, simply turns back around and takes a drag from the cigarette between his fingers. Lance takes a seat beside him, “He's worried.”

Keith takes a good moment to blow the smoke out from his lungs and into the air and watch it fade away, “You found me. Why don't you go report back to hin?” Keith mocks through his voice, not looking at Lance.

“I was hoping you'd come with me.” Lance admits his plan.

All Keith does is lightly chuckle before taking another drag, shaking his head. ‘Wishful thinking, Lance. Wishful thinking.’ He says to himself as he blows the smoke away. Lance takes note to this, obviously not pleased.

“Why'd you start again?” Lance questions, motioning to the cigarette between Keith's fingers. Everyone in the friend group is aware Keith has had problems with smoking at some time, but had been assured that the habit was no longer. Keith scoffs to himself and slightly at Lance's question.

“Start?” Keith questions as he flicks the ashes off the butt of his cigarette and watch them drop the 15, maybe 20 feet below his feet. He wasn't on a bridge, simply the edge of some concrete above a creek, “I never stopped.”

“But- I thought you said-” Lance starts.

“I know what I said.” Keith informs Lance, always one step ahead of him, that boy. It wasn't the fact that Keith had still been smoking that bothered Lance, it was the lies. Keith lied knowingly of the effects. How did everyone not notice? He must've hidden it so well. Which meant he really didn't want them finding out. Why? All they wanted to do was help.

“Who knows about this?” Lance starts asking, wondering if he can get information from anyone else since Keith would be of no help.

“I do.” Keith deadpans.

“I know you do, dumbass. Besides you.” Lance isn't amused by the answer.

“You do.” Keith answers stupidly again before blowing watching the smoke drift from his lips.

Lance sighs, “Anyone who didn't find out today ?”

“There's this nest with baby birds that hatched a few weeks ago. They know.” Keith shrugs through his response, pointing off in to the distance, referencing at the birds.

Keith goes to place the cigarette between his lips when suddenly Lance leans over and grabs it from his hands. Keith is baffled with shock and he turns to the boy.

“What the hell, Serrano?” Keith exclaims. He watches as Lance drops it down to the creek and far from the two of them. He seems satisfied with his work. Keith just shakes his head with disapproval, “You owe me 30 cents.”

Keith shrugs as he reaches into his pocket to grab his pack. Before he can even take a cig out Lance is already in action as he grabs the box and throws it too to the creek.

“What the fuck, Lance?!” Keith yells at him, “That was a new pack. Now you owe me $6.03.”

“I'm not paying you to die faster.” Lance argues back, getting loud.

“Why not?!” Keith yells back, “It'd be worth the show, right? The story? Isn't that all you care about, Lance? The experience. The entertainment. Come one, come all! Watch the pathetic kid with the messed up head try and make it through the day!” He throws his arms up and adds emotion in to his voice, “I'm not some twisted sitcom, Lance! I'm not a conversation starter! I'm just- I'm just...I'm just nothing.” Keith began to come to a conclusion as he bowed his head with fear and shame. Lance saw the pain in this lid and put his hand on his back for comfort. Before he could speak, Keith pushed him off, “No! Just- Leave me alone, Lance.” Keith rushes to stand up and slowly begins walking away, “And don't try finding me again.”

He gets no more than ten feet before Lance's words stop him, “I was never looking in the first place.”

“Then what were you doing?” Keith whispers, not daring to look back.

“Nadia wanted me to check on the birds. She thinks they're hurt because they're in a nest and not a house.” Lance admits, relating his story to his silly niece who simply didn't understand.

When Lance doesn't get a response he looks over to Keith. He's confused when he sees the older boy leaning against a tree for support, as if standing was difficult. Despite their arguments and how angry Lance was feeling, he didn't want to be responsible for Keith's poor mental health.

“Keith?” Lance attempts to grab his attention as he begins to slowly stand up. He sees Keith stumble to stay standing and rushes over to keep him up. The moment he has Keith in his grasp Keith gives us trying anymore. He goes limp in Lance's arms with a groan, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, there.”

Lance falls back against another tree and slides down with Keith limp in his arms. Before he can try and determine the problem Keith starts hacking violently. Lance would typically rub circles on his back as he would do for anyone in this situation, but he had frozen once he saw the dark crimson red dripping from the edges of his lips.

Lance doesn't remember what he did next or how he did it, but suddenly a sweet voice was speaking next to his ear.

“911, what's your emergency?”

Chapter Text

“This sucks!” Lance exclaims with a whine as the team trudges through a forest of wayward vines and branches.

“Shut up, Lance.” Keith deadpans from his position in the front of the line, cutting himself through whatever was in the way with his Bayard. The others followed behind, obviously bored with the mission. In order to reach the distress call they had to maneuver through a maze of vines and branches and trees because it was too small for their lions to make through without doing more damage than necessary. Nonetheless, this was their job and they did it the best.

They found their way into a new part of the forest. There were less trees and more bushes of purple flowers. Lance couldn't help but keep his eyes on the flowers more than the mission. His eyes beamed when a comparison came to mind.

“Hey, guys! These flowers look like the scilla peruvianas back in Cuba!” Lance exclaims, his Spanish accent cracking through only slightly. Everyone stopped to look back and smiled, except Keith that is. Lance picked a few flowers as did Hunk, Pidge, and Allura.

“These are similar to the nature life on Altea. The veneloz was the name of it, I believe.” Allura beamed too, at the memory of her home planet she missed so much.

“C'mon guys. That's enough.” Keith orders from his isolated position away from them. The others don't even bother looking back as they brush him off.

“We have time, Keith. I just wanna grab a few more.” Pidge suggests and then does as was explained.

Suddenly they hear a blaster firing up and beam into the woods. They look towards the cause of the sound and face Keith. His breath is slightly labored and eyes wide with the blaster still in aim and slowly falling down. The others look in complete confusion.

“What the hell was that for, man?” Lance exclaims, not understanding his leader's response.

“I uh- I thought I saw something.” Keith replies but keeps his focus on his aimless target.

“Whatever.” Lance mumbles before picking a few more flowers. He opens his mouth to explain how they're almost done but is interrupted by a shot being fired over his shoulder. He shoots up, mortified and turns around at Keith, “What the hell?! That could've hit me!”

Lance scolded him as the others looked at him angrily as well. Their furrowed brows softened when they saw the lost expression Keith had. His eyes were glossed over without a presence and breath definitely labored as sweat slowly began its pour. When he didn't respond, let alone seem to make an attempt at responding, the team take a different approach.

“Keith, what is it?” Allura questions as all of them slowly edged towards him with cautious steps.

Suddenly Keith takes out his Bayard to form his sword. He begins swinging and slicing the thin air, not aiming or hitting anything. Although, his eyes said survival but they didn't believe them.

“Keith, buddy!” Hunk exclaims, hoping to reach the black paladin.

“Calm down, Keith!” Pidge also made an attempt.

During his rage he managed to snap branch and send it wayward. The broken wood scraped against the open skin suit of his shoulder and made a clean scrape against it, immediately beginning to bleed. But he didn't stop. He didn't wince or acknowledge it. He kept going. The others needed to stop this before someone got hurt, because it was obvious he wasn't stopping.

“Keith, stop!” Lance attempted an approach but deemed it useless as Keith was too far gone in his own head. They would have to come up with another approach.

Pidge saw it. It happened all at once but lasted far too many steps. How had no one seen this before? After crushing a flower, purple dust filled the gloves only slightly, seeming like pollen. After letting the dust fall through the gloved fingers it was apparent that if wasn't pollen.

Purple. Purple. Purple.

Purple .

Galra. Keith was half Galra and this planet hadn't been invaded in the whole 10,000 years. It definitely wasn't coincidence. There was a reason no Galran soldier made it to their home: they never survived long enough.

“We need to get him away from the flowers.” Pidge quietly whispers.

“Hmm?” Hunk and the others share a confused look.

“The flowers, they're poisoned.” Pidge responds and stays focused on Keith if anything changes.

“But how come we're fine?” Lance debates.

“We're not Galran.” Pidge finally answers and everyone finally gets it, “There's only one way we're gonna be able to snap him out of it and it's likely someone will get hurt. So, who wants to be the distraction?” Everyone looks to Lance.

“C'mon!” Lance exclaims, throwing his hands up. Their eyes told him this wasn't a debatable topic, “Whatever. Just- don't mess this up.”

Everyone nods as Lance gets ready. He slowly edges his way towards Keith until he's in a decent range. His hands were originally in a stance of intended calming sensation but had formed in to a fighting stance.

“Keith? Hey?” Lance tries getting his attention. This must've done something as Keith turns around. It's not distinguishable if his attention is on Lance but it's apparent that it's ranged near him.

Keith starts to charge at Lance, obvious intentions of harm but Lance couldn't hurt a teammate. Lance blocked and pushed and punched with all the force he had inside him, begging for the others to hurry.

Lance and Keith pushed against each other, both holding on to Keith's sword but aiming different directions. From the corner of his eye he could see Hunk and Allura creeping up from behind, obviously in the position to hold Keith down until Pidge could activate the disabling sensors. Keith must've sensed something behind him as he pushed through diagonally, making it through Lance.

I slight gash is make in the open skin suit area of Lance's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain, immediately grabbing for his shoulder with a winced expression.

During the time after, Keith allowed his bayard to fall and grabbed at his blade. Although, the quick movement had messed him up, causing him to stumble. He tripped and fell face first, but it wasn't exactly the fall that hurt him, it was the landing .

For just a moment, while the hot pain sears inside him, he thinks he can hear the sound of his teammates voices. For a moment he gains awareness but is quickly lost in it when he takes a breath.

He's back on the dry planet with the ashy air and deteriorating view. He anxiously looks around and sees the hooded figure running towards him once again. He tries to move but is in far too much pain, all he can do it watch.

He squeezes his eyes shut, accepting his fate when it doesn't come . He cautiously and slowly opens his eyes and looks around, his breath heavy and chest heaving. He absently realizes that he's no longer on the ashy planet. No, he's now if the forest he travelled in when he first arrived at the planet. Allura and Pidge hover over him with concerned looks.

“What-?” Keith trails off, overwhelmed by everything he's absorbing.

“Keith? Are you with us?” Pidge asks, hopeful eyes. Keith focuses on the green paladin but doesn't comprehend the words. He's so confused. Nothing made sense.

“Is he aware?” Lance asks from behind the group, putting pressure against his wound with some gauze Pidge supplied him with.

“I think so.” Pidge squints, trying to get a better diagnosis but still lost in finds.

“What's going on?” Keith asked, slowly finding his words to match his mind but the world still blurred. There was a line between reality and mentality and he was flirting with it.

“We think you were poisoned, man.” Hunk explains with a solemn expression as the experience was emotional.

Keith nods blankly and then tries to sit up. When he makes his attempt to push off the ground a sharp pain spears through his abdomen. He cries out and falls back to the ground, grabbing at the area of pain. He pulls back his hands to see that they are covered in blood, and rightfully so as a gash representing a hole took up part of his skin. He looked back up at the group with wide eyes.

“Then how did this happen?!” Keith exclaims, scared and confused as usual.

“Calm down, Keith. We are able to provide an explanation.” Allura held out her hands in a manner of motioning for him to calm down.

“The poison affected your brainwaves and neurotransmitters, causing your senses to go haywire.” Pidge explains after pushing the glasses to set better. Keith provides an obviously extremely confused look to which Lance explains.

“You were tripping, man.” Lance simplifies. Keith then notices the injury Lance beholds and worries further.

“Were you poisoned too?” Keith asks, just wanting answers.

“No, I uh- I got hit.” Lance awkwardly nods for his answer.

“There are soldiers around here?” Keith looks around, trying to find the crack in his previous observations.

“No, there aren’t.” Pidge answers with a sad look. Keith stares at the look and starts to place the pieces together. Only the eyes of the green Paladin would tell him of such horrors. His worst nightmare has come true. God, he hoped he was dreaming.

“No, I didn’t.” Keith shakes his head and watches no one deny with him, “Oh God, I did .” Keith bows his head and darts his eyes, trying to find what the next steps will be.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s fine, man. I’m fine.” Lance quickly interjects, kneeling beside Keith. Somewhere in the back of Lance’s mind he felt bad for having this happen, but he knew none of it was his fault. Nonetheless, he’d care a portion of the burden that is responsibility.

“Bullshit, Serrano. You’re injured.” Keith nods toward the shoulder that Lance holds tenderly. Lance glances at it and then back at Keith.

“Listen, bud. You’re no better, alright?” Lance nods towards the gash in Keith’s abdomen that he holds with shaking hands, stained with the crimson color, “How about we get you fixed up first?” Lance smiles.

Keith takes a glance at the others, looking for clarification that Lance was wasn’t out of his mind as well. Allura and Pidge nod but it isn’t until Hunk gives him a smile does he believe the words. Hunk’s smile is wide and welcoming, softening all of Keith’s worries. At the look he sighs out in relief and lays back against the floor again, accepting of the facts.

This was a blessing disguised as a nightmare.

Chapter Text

At first he thought it was just a bug. He had lost his appetite and felt nauseous almost all morning. The others would make jokes that he was pregnant or that it was ‘that time of the month’ but he would just push them off.

Although, by the time it got to mid afternoon he knew this was something much worse. His symptoms were becoming more severe and noticeable and unrecognizable to his own eyes. It felt like someone was pushing down on his lower abdomen slowly but roughly and now matter what he did he couldn’t lessen it. The nausea got worse. He was burning up. Something wasn’t right and someone needed to know about it.

He stumbled out of his room in his jeans, boots, and black T-shirt. He was burning up but didn’t want to go unpresentable. He leaned against the hallway walls for support as the world seemed to tilt, but he could gain stability quickly. With one hand on the wall and the other holding his stomach he managed his way down the hall.

The first door he came across gave him access to the lounge area. He managed to the doorway and leaned against the opening. Upon the sound two sets of eyes looked back at him. Hunk and Allura were discussing Altean and Earthling dishes along with translated recipes. There smiles dropped when they saw Keith.

“Keith? What is the matter?” Allura quickly asks.

“You look awful, buddy.” Hunk points out.

“Sick.” Keith manages to get out one word before the fever takes over. A cold chill forces its way down his spine, but seems to heat him up more. The pressure that was once lightly on his abdomen had turned into a knife being plunged and turned inside him. All he could do was gasp and drop to the floor.

“Whoa there!” Hunk exclaims. He is quick to hop out from the couch and manage his way to Keith. He holds Keith in his arms, getting a better look at how wrecked he looked. His skin was burning up and sweating profusely. His body shivered slightly and hands shook. His eyes barely managed to stay open, but squinted to stay as long as possible. Allura was by his side before leaning down the hall to yell.

“Coran! We need your help!” Allura calls for the more advanced man. Within second he is down the hall, almost sliding and falling at the turn before sprinting down to the Princess.

“What is it, Princess?” Coran eagerly inquired. Allura nods to the two boys on the floor and Coran is surprised. The red Paladins health had seemed low this morning but didn’t seem this bad, “Quick, let’s get him to the med bay.”

Keith knew he was being lifted by the sudden rush of gravity and jab to his gut. He groans weakly and winces hard. The trip to the med bay is quick but mostly filled with pain by the movement. Hunk apologizes profusely but Keith can’t respond. The dashing walls and lights distract his thoughts. He just wants something to get rid of this terrible pain he was in.

He is grateful when they make it to the bay. Being laid on the bed wasn’t exactly the best transition but the soft foundation allowed him to find a sliver of comfort. He would take what he would get. His senses started to do their job once again as they didn’t need to focus on the pain.

“What’s going on?” A voice is heard from the entrance. Keith rolls his head to see the other three Paladins entered the room with furrowed brows. Shiro is quick to stand beside Keith, looking over him for any indication as to what was going on. Pidge and Lance follow close behind, looking to the best of their ability.

“We are not sure.” Allura anxiously announces, fidgeting slightly as Coran begins to set up Keith to a monitor.

“What happened?” Shiro insists. Pidge manages through to get a better look at Keith, slowly figuring out the problem.

“I don’t know! Allura and I were in the lounge and Keith came in looking awful and then collapsed. He’s burning up.” Hunk explains all that he knows, catching the others up. Pidge took a quick glance at the hand gripped around Keith’s abdomen and the flushed expression on his face.

“Oh, shit.” Pidge exclaims with wide eyes. The others turn around, Shiro not even bothering to shame with the language.

“What? What is it?” Lance quickly asks before anyone else.

“His appendix. It’s his appendix.” Pidge looks up at the others after saying the last sentence, analyzing their reactions. Keith seems too out of it to realize. Everyone hits a moment of understanding and immediate concern as Allura and Coran look ever further confused.

“I don’t understand.” Coran interjects. Lance is quick to respond.

“It’s an internal organ in the lower right abdomen. Organs, remember? Parts of the human body that help everything else function.” Lance references to the small crash course he introduced the aliens to.

“What is this appendix’s function?” Allura asks.

“We don’t actually know. It’s just kinda there.” Lance reveals, not really helping much so Hunk decides to take over.

“Point is, his appendix got infected and burst, or is about to, so we gotta get it out of him. Like, now, guys.” Hunk anxiously insists and reminds.

“How do we do that?” Coran asks, eager to begin.

“We just have to make a small incision and removing the virus should be simple.” Shiro explains.

“I do believe that will cause Keith pain, am I correct?” Corona points out. The others go slightly white at the realization that Alteans don’t feel pain at the same degree as humans and how this may be a problem.

“Do you guys have something we can numb him with?” Pidge suggests.

“But if we do that then he’s gonna have to stay awake .” Hunk worries immediately.

“It’s our only option. We’re on a time limit here, guys.” Pidge goes on to reinforce the idea. The others glance at Keith once more, watching him wince in pain. They turn to the aliens and allow Shiro to call the orders.

“Alright, let’s do this. As a team. We’re gonna need all hands on deck.” Shiro announces as the others nods, “Coran, you’ll help me with the procedure. Pidge, you’re monitoring his vitals. Allura, you’re gonna help us with supplies. Hunk and Lance, I need you guys to keep him calm.”

Everyone had their respected role and wasted no time to get started. Through kind gentle words Shiro was able to get Keith to sit up just enough so they could remove his shirt. They set up a divider between his chest using a clipped cloth in order to prevent him to visualizing what was going on, ensuring he wouldn’t panic. Pidge sat in a chair at the end of the bed with a computer, analyzing all possible vitals and meanings. Allura was finishing up apply an antiseptic and numbing medication. Upon finishing Coran and Shiro looked up at each other. This was the moment. Shiro looked over to Lance and Hunk as they made attempts to converse with Keith. Hunk looked at him and gave a nod.

“Allura, can you hand me that.” Shiro whispers, not to overpower the conversations with Keith, and points to the scalpel-like tool. Allura nods and carefully hands Shiro the instrument.

Shiro grips the tool tightly, afraid that his hands might shake, but he surprisingly works well under pressure. The sharp ended point hovers over the marked part of Keith's skin they had outlined prior. It was a single line, that's all he had to do. Not too deep, but not too shallow. They had numbing medication and antiseptic, but they didn't have any anticoagulants, meaning Keith could easily bleed out if they weren't careful. Keith's life rest in Shiro's hands.

Shiro shakes his head, not wanting to hold it off any longer. With a sigh he begins and pushes the tool into Keith's skin. Lance and Hunk watch Keith closer than ever, looking for any signs of him being in pain. His eyebrows furrowed and he shifted slightly but showed no other signs other than discomfort. The two bit their lips anxiously. Shiro didn't pay any mind, too induldged with his assignment.

Shiro hated the feeling. He hated how it was difficult to penetrate the first layer but easier after that. He hated the paper like shredding feeling he got when he pulled down. When be pulled back he felt a bit of relief not only at the release but the outcome. It was deep enough for them to visually see the end of the intestines but shallow enough to where there was minimal bleeding. Allura dabbed a gauze to clear of any escaping blood and the whole room seemed to have allowed themselves to breath once again. They felt as if they were holding their breath the whole time, and perhaps they were.

Coran applied light pressure on both sides in order to ensure the visuals were more accessible. Shiro nodded pointed to the tweezers next to Allura, he didn't have the energy to speak. Allura understands his needs and hands it to him. Shiro begins the next part, the most crucial part.

He lightly moved tissue in order to find the appendix. It branches off at the end of the intenstines so it shouldn't be too hard to find, but they were on a time table right now.

He smiles lightly when he finds it. Allura takes this opportunity to use the gauze once more, making it easier for Shiro. He carefully grips the end and pulls lightly so he can cut through the end. It takes a little more time than he'd like, but being cautious was number one.

Once he's claimed it he uses the tweezer to keep the other end closed and placed the end in a small dish Allura held out. The hard part was over, all that was left was to stitch him up.

“Pidge, vitals?” Shiro asks before starting.

“Normal. His heart beat and temperature is elevated lightly, but that's probably the fever.” Pidge announces, looking through more files. Shiro nods and begins to finish off the procedure.

Shiro places the scalpel down and Allura hands him the tools used for stitching. Thankfully these stitches seem to resemble those of dissolving ones back on Earth, so removal isn't something they have to worry about.

He easily but carefully sews the cut off potion of the intestine and then begins to work on the main incision. Roughly one-fourth through the stitching Keith begins to shift again. Although, this time he doesn't stop. Alas, Shiro continues. Keith only resists more.

“Keith, man. Calm down.” Lance places a hand on Keith's bare shoulder, slightly frowning at the heat it emmitted.

“You're fine, Keith. You're fine. Just a little bit longer.” Hunk encouraged with sweet words, but it ultimately wouldn't matter, because the truth had already become apparent.

The numbing medication was waring off.

“Shiro,” Pidge starts, simply trying to inform him.

“I know.” Shiro says back quickly, keeping his attention on the stitching. He was half way through now. Only a few more left.

As Shiro tied off one stitch, only having a few more left, he pulled a little bit too tight and this didn't go unnoticed by Keith. The red paladin groaned in pain with a threanening scream scratching at his throat. His body hunched forward but Lance's hand kept him back. Keith was obviously very much aware now. He looked up at Hunk and Lance with confused and worrying eyes. Hunk looked anxious in general while Lance looked anxious for Keith. Not the caring type of anxiety, the worrying of ones actions.

“What the hell is going on?” Keith breathed out, starting with labored breathing and sweaty skin. His voice was hoarse but quickly cleared. Lance and Hunk were about to answer but Keith didn't have the will to listen. Be felt something sharp poke and penetrate his abdomen and he yelped with pain. He tried moving away from the scource of pain, trying to scoot away, but Lance was quick. He held down Keith's shoulders in an attempt to keep him from moving. The others could worrying about his legs and waist.

“Keith, calm down, please.” Lance gets as he looks his teammate in the eyes. Keith looks back with wide eyes, his body burning with pain. He wanted to trust Lance, but he wanted to pain to stop as well.

“What is happening, Lance?” Keith huffs out once again.

“Appendicitis. We have to remove your appendix. We're almost done, just please hold on, man. You need to stay still.” Lance begs once again, not wanting this situation to turn more into a mess than it already is.

Keith opens his mouth to speak but instead hissing in pain when he feels another tug and pull if his skin. His nerves felt like the embodiment of heat and he felt the urge to cry, but didn't have to energy. He gasps large breaths, trying to calm himself down but finding it difficult.

“Just one more, Keith.” Hunk points out as caught a small glimpse, not being able to stomach much more than that.

Keith gripped his hands into fists as the last stitch was provided. His teeth bared and he muffle a scream into a grunt mixed with a groan. He couldn't tell if the condensation on his face was tears or sweat, but he didn't care. Lance reassuringly squeezed Keith's shoulder, regretting putting them there in the first place as he knew feeling Keith shake under his palms would haunt him tonight. Hearing Keith's quiet pleas and whimpers would haunt them all for a while. But nothing would compare to the nightmares Keith would earn.

“Done. There, we’re done. You’re fine, buddy.” Shiro places the tools down and immediately removed the border to catch a glimpse at his surrogate brother. Keith’s fists loosened and his face smoothed out but eyes stay closed. His breathing was labored only lightly and his skin covered in glistening sweat. Shiro watched his chest heave up and down and smiled. Keith was breathing. He was alive. He was going to be Ok.

Chapter Text

“Keith!” A voice yells from outside his rooms door. He looks up from he lay against his bed, reading some Altean book. Hunk welcomes himself inside with the brightest smile Keith’s ever seen, then again he wasn't one to experience happiness much. His eyes wide with interest as he allows Hunk to speak, “I just made this weird goop thing with ingredients I found in a storage room, would you be willing to try it?”

Typically, under any other circumstance, Keith would say no to anyone else. But, this was Hunk. The amount of excitement he portrayed and the energy that beamed off of him was too much. Keith just couldn’t refuse. He shrugs aimlessly and sets his book down.

“Sure.” He deadpans, straightening his position to prepare for the food. Hunk smiles brighter - if even possible - and makes his way over to Keith, still wearing his apron. He holds a bowl full of purple liquid that looks similar to mush. It doesn’t look appeasing but it smells oddly appetizing.

Keith takes the bowl from Hunk and looks back up at him, watching Hunk’s eager eyes. He nods with pursed lips and places his attention back on the bowl. Slowly he grabs the spoon and shifts the food around a bit. He deems his examination enough and spoons a small amount onto the utensil. He hesitantly but eventually brings it to his mouth and takes it in, immediately swallowing before he can taste. Nonetheless, he gets an aftertaste.

He wants to say that it tastes great. This is Hunk’s food. Everything he makes is perfect no matter what. But, this wasn’t the case. It had texture similar to the mushy brown part on a banana and tasted like the smell you recieve post-rainstorm. It wasn’t pleasant but he stomached it down and took a few more bites. He then handed the bowl back to Hunk with a nod. Hunk looked at him with a wide smile, awaiting a review. It takes Keith a moment to understand what exactly it is that he wants.

“Oh! Yeah, it was- it was great! Can’t wait to have this at Dinner tonight, Hunk.” Keith pulls of as much of a genuine response as he can. Do to the fact that he rarely shows emotions, even the slightest affects the other. In this case, Hunk had no indication of his false truth.

“Thanks, Keith! You’re a life-saver!” Hunk exclaims, happily managing his way from the room with glee. Keith nods as he watches the yellow paladin leave his room. He has the intentions of resuming his book and retreating to his laid-back position, but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t let him. It was as if the mush had solidified on its way down and was pulling his body towards the floor. He decided to let it set and then resume his activity. Poor decision on his part.

“Where’s Keith?” Shiro asks, looking up from his seat and counting the others. He was immediately aware of the red paladins absence. The others didn’t bother paying much mind to him and continued on with whatever they were talking about or doing. Coran made his way behind Shiro to place his plate down like he had done with the others and took his turn to respond.

“I’m sure he’s on his way. Just busy at the louie.” Coran answers for the others, relieving some stress and worry off of Shiro’s shoulder as he nodded and relaxed. Coran turned to get the other side of the table and stopped, “Ah, speak of the Devil. Here he comes.” Coran smiles, knowing this pleases Shiro.

The others watch as the ravenette manages his way down the hall and into the dinning room. He takes his seat by Shiro without a word to say. It doesn’t look his best, per se, but he looks manageable. His eyes droop and skin pales against the air with a ghostly wisp. The bags under his pupils seem to carry the weight of the world. A few stray coughs manage their way from his lungs but he still acts as if nothing is different.

“Ah, welcome to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty.” Lance jokes at Keith’s appearance, as to be expected. Keith just groaned a response, already annoyed by Lance’s comments. Shiro decides to take a kinder approach.

“Are you feeling Ok?” Shiro questions. He reaches to feel at Keith’s forehead but Keith flinches away. Shiro understands and respects Keith’s request and stays in his space.

“I’m fine, just a little under the weather.” Keith insists, sounding congested in his tone.

“Perhaps we should have Coran check you out? Just to be safe?” Allura suggests in a caring manner. Keith looks up at her and like before can’t bare the kindness in the eyes. He quietly nods his head before slowly standing up, pushing his chair back. Shiro gets up as well, obviously planning on going with him. He reaches for Keith’s arm in an attempt to keep him stable, but Keith protests.

“I can do it myself.” Keith pushes him off, but Shiro’s arms land on him once again. This time Keith doesn’t protest as a coughing fit erupts from his lips. It takes its toll on his body, taking complete control. He started to aim his body towards the ground, but Shiro was already on it. He held an arm in front of Keith, keeping him stable and slowly lowering him to the floor through his coughing fit. Keith is on his hands and knees as his body heaves to clear his throat. Shiro keep a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

“C’mon, Keith. Let’s get you to the med bay.” Shiro sweetly urges close to Keith so he isn’t bothered by any loud sounds.

“I just need some rest.” Keith is persistent with his false claims.

“You sound like a 90 year old chain-smoker. You need more than rest.” Lance comments, earning a few glares from the others that he ignores.

Keith nods and allows Shiro to help him to his feet. He sways a bit but stands his ground confidently. He continues to insist that he can walk on his own, but Shiro still offers to carry him one way or another. After agonizingly trudging their way up a few steps and out of the dining hall, Keith gives in.

Shiro smiles at his validity and carefully has Keith placed on his back, as if this were a fun piggyback ride. Shiro holds him up from his thighs with him limp and sweaty body laying against him. His arms hang out, moving with Shiro’s legs in sync. His head rest against a shoulder with eyes half-closed. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask for?

Upon arriving at the med bay, Shiro places Keith down onto a bed and steps away, allowing Coran to do his work. Him and Allura begin setting up technology that probably only Pidge understood. Soon a slightly quickened heartbeat comes up along with other symbols and colors they don't recognize. Coran places an IV in Keith's arm, not earning much of a reaction of out him.

“What's that for?” Lance questions, regretting not taking the medical history course his second semester.

“Until we can figure out what's causing Keith to act this way, I've placed an IV to transport enough nutrients into his body to keep his levels stable.” Coran explains simple enough for Lance to comprehend. Lance nods, allowing Coran to continue, “Thankfully we gathered DNA samples of each of you prior to battles. We'll take a sample for Keith now and compare it to the other.”

“We're gonna need as much help as we can get.” Allura points out.

“Should we take shifts watching Keith?” Pidge suggests.

“That would be a splendid idea, Pidge. Shiro, would you like to take the first shift?” Allura knows the leader all too well and his relationship with the red paladin.

“Please. Thank you, Princess.” Shiro nods at her recommendation, and thus the process began.

Shiro's sitting in a basic chair beside Keith, worry written in the divets of his skin. He's leaned forward a bit to place his elbows on his thighs and rub his hands back and forth with anxiety. He takes one look at Keith and his distraught form. He's sweating and breathing labored breaths through his mouth. A few minutes ago he placed a cold rag against Keith's forehead and it seemed to work wonders, but now it was warm as well. He scoffs and shakes his head.

“You still look 12. You know that, right?” Shiro points out with a chuckle, “You're just a little taller and your hair a little longer. Other than that, I feel like I'm talking to that spiteful kid from the Garrison intermediate classes.”

Shiro smiles fondly and looks to Keith. His being still frozen with sickness. Shiro sighs with the aftertaste of a smile against his lips. In all the time he's know Keith, and it's been a long time, he's never seen him sick. This was one hell of a first appearance though.

“You should get sick more often. I'm starting to like this whole sentimental conversation thing.” Shiro jokes with a chuckle.

Shiro looks down at his wrist. He pulls back his sleeve and acknowledges the time. He's got 5 minutes until his shift is over. He wishes it would last longer but he knows the team needs him to help figure this out.

“You just love watching me stress, don't you.” Shiro comments.

5 minutes. It's been five minutes since Lance's shift started and he's already bored. The others wouldn't let him bring a tablet or video games or even a book . He had gotten so desperate he asked for a book. But his focus have to be 100% on Keith. Don't get him wrong, he cares about everyone in the castle, Keith included, but he's not doing anything and Lance just wants to play space games.

“You’re unconscious and yet you still manage to annoy me.” Lance narrows his eyes, as if any more defining details would appear. He sighs and leans against his chair.

Lance had insisted that someone else take the next shift, but he was overthrown. He wasn’t contributing much to the research and thus was bumped down to babysitter. He regrets goofing off because he’d much rather be doing research than sitting here doing nothing.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud beeping from the technology around him. He looks up to see flashing symbols on the screens that he doesn’t recognize. Then he looks to Keith. His chest heaves with restriction as if someone were choking him. Lance began to panic, he didn’t know what to do. He stands up.

“Guys! Guys, get in here! Now !” Lance yells, standing beside Keith. His blood runs cold and his heart stops in his throat when he watches Keith stop struggling, and then not continue.

“You’ve been giving everyone quite a scare, my boy.” Coran comments as he adjusts the IV bag hanging up. When he’s done he continues to stand beside Keith and observe him.

After the breathing incident Coran and Shiro placed a respiratory tube in his throat to breathe for him. Not long after they started pieces things together and found out that the food Hunk had him sample was actually an alternative for Galran sedatives. It was only to be taken in a small portion, but Keith had consumed a lot .

Thankfully Coran and Allura were able to manifest an antidote that could be transferred to Keith’s body via IV. They had identified their problem and addressed it, now they just needed to wait for the results. Coran is a patient man.

“Keith, I’m gonna take the tube out now.” Coran alerts the red Paladin, unsure if the effort is useless. The others surround to watch and are hopeful that Keith’s aware, but they can only wish. They know his vitals are back to normal, but now his body has to adjust from being poisoned to being healthy.

Keith gave no response, but Coran decided to continue. He counted down from three and upon reached one he removed the medical tape and pulled the tube out in one smooth run. He immediately sets it aside and returns his attention on Keith.

Keith reacted to the removal of the tube which would typically cause frowns but this time it allowed them to sigh out their worries. Keith’s body hunched up with rigid coughs and hacks and wheezes as his body needed to quickly adjust. Once he finds himself clear enough he lays back against the bed with a small groan. His eyes are still closed but overall looks healthy.

“Keith? Hey, buddy. Can you hear me?” Hunk tried, eager for the older to wake up. Keith’s eyes flutter slowly, taking longer to adjust to the sounds and lights and the beings around him. His eyes blankly land on Hunk with an emotionless expression that proves he hasn’t processed anything yet.

“Ah, there he is.” Coran smiles.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty.” Lance comments again. This caused Keith to turn his head and face the blue Paladin.

“You-“ Keith clears his throat, “You used that one already.” His voice is hoarse and bare but he can speak and that’s what matters.

“So?” Lance defends himself.

“You’re slacking, Serrano.”  Keith comments with a light smile and rests his head against the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. He tried to get used to the sight of the ceiling as something tells him he’ll be here once again. He is informed that Hunk’s samples caused him to react but he’d do it all again, in a heartbeat. If it meant he could see that warm smile again, then yeah, he’d do it all again.

Chapter Text

“Guys, look! Fruit!” Lance exclaims as he crouches down to get a closer look at what seems to be a patch of berries similar to those on Earth. The others come over to get a better look.

“Lance, it’s alien food. It’s probably poisonous.” Keith crosses his arms and defiles his teammates accusations.

“Nope.” Lance chuckles, still focused on the food.

“How would you know?” Keith argues.

“‘Cause I just ate like 20.” Lance chuckles and turns around to show him stuffing more berries in his mouth. Keith looks at him with disbelief and annoyance. He shakes his head as he watches the others join in the snack.

“Weird. It smells like a banana but I don’t taste anything.” Pidge comments.

“I don’t care. It’s food and I’m happy.” Hunk smiles as he stuffs more food into his face.

“Come try some of this, Grumpy.” Lance holds a hand of berries to Keith and eats them.

“Pass.” Keith narrows his eyes, stubborn as usual. He glances at Shiro, watching the leader precisely pick out fruits and place them in a satchel. He locks eyes with him. Shiro nudges with a smile to beside him, referencing that Keith should try some. He gives in. He sighs, unfolding his arms and making his way to beside the leader.

“Just try one.” Shiro holds one out to the red Paladin. Keith stares at it, still annoyed. Shiro gestures for him to take it. Completely done with the whole situation, Keith grabs the berry and pops it into his mouth. He swallows and opens his mouth for Shiro to see.

“Happy?” Keith grumbles with a frown.

“Very.” Shiro smiles, finding humor in his friends negative behavior. He’s used to it, hence why he finds it hilarious compared to all the other sides of him he’s seen.

He goes back to picking the safest looking balls and dropping them into his brown bag. He’s not sure what they might be useful for, but he’s hoping to find out. It’s always nice to find things like these on alien planets. Great for research.

He smiles as he picks, glancing with glee at his friend. He does a double-take, no longer smiling. He sees Keith eyes and knows that somehow it’s happening. He doesn’t know how or why or when it did, but it’s happening . The panic in Keith’s eyes tell a story as they widen with shock. His mouth hangs open and choked gasps make their way through. Slowly and hesitantly Keith grabs at his throat, try to pry off the imaginary hands grabbing at his throat.

“Keith?” Shiro questions the boys behavior. When Keith doesn’t look back at him he leap into action, “Keith!”

The others begin to form awareness at the situation, also leaping into action. Shiro rushes to place a hand behind Keith, having the other wrap around his waist as he hoists him to lay down. The others are by his side, hoping to help and get word as to what was going on. Keith continues to heave and choke on his air, his own lungs lacking what they need in order for him to survive.

“Shiro, what’s happening to him?” Hunk questions in a panicked state.

“He’s- I think he’s having an allergic reaction but I’m not sure.” Shiro’s thoughts are jumbled as he tries to remember basic first AID. He loosens the clothing around Keith’s neck and chest. He tilts his head back by gently moving his head by tilting his chin. This seems to clear his airways slightly. It’s enough to buy them time, but not enough to stop it.

“What’s he allergic to?” Pidge jumps in into the usual placement.

“Bees. It doesn’t make sense. We’re light years away from any bees.” Shiro fumbles on his words but manages them out.

“We need to get him back to the castle.” Lance comments, knowing there will be a higher chance of helping Keith in a familiar setting. Shiro nods, still slightly shaken at the sudden reaction.

Shiro picks Keith up, causing hoarse coughs due to the movement that he forces himself to ignore. The whole group runs as fast as they possibly can back to the landing spot of the castle. The moment it simply comes into view is when Shiro first feels some sliver of relief and hope that his friend- his brother will be Ok.

Knowing that Coran and Allura have been listening in on their situations due to the com system, they head straight for the med bay, not aiming to stop and inform them in any way. On their way to the medical room Shiro notices Keith stops struggling. He looks down and sees his eyes closed and chest has stopped moving.

“Damnit, Keith.” Shiro mumbles, moving faster to make it to the room. He immediately lays him down and await a basic procedure to get him breathing again.

“We need to put a tube in him. Now .” Shiro demands, aiming it towards Coran as he was the only other person he trusted most to help with keeping Keith alive.

“Of course, number two.” Coran refers to him by the common nickname.

The two of them set up a respiration machine beside the table and have Pidge ensure it works properly. The two of them then set on getting the tube inside of Keith. Shiro looks down at him with a pleading look, apologizing for having to do this but knowing he had no other choice. He wasn’t breathing .

Coran keeps Keith’s mouth opens and airway exposed to make it easier on Shiro’s part. It takes no less than half a minute as Shiro slides it down. Within simple moments he watches Keith’s chest kickstart to breath again, this time at a normal pace. Shiro begins to relax at the feelings, knowing Keith is breathing again.

“Ok, yeah, care to share?” Lance claps his hands together, starting a group conversation aimed at Shiro.

“I know probably as much as you guys right now. I’m confused. It seemed like an allergic reaction but it doesn’t make sense. There are no bees on Irmia.” Shiro comments at the reasonable assumption.

“Perhaps nothing directly, but maybe something similar.” Pidge points out, pushing the glasses placed so carelessly. Pidge, followed by Allura, manages to the computer to do research. Most of the others don’t understand but don’t try as they know Pidge is onto something and don’t dare interrupt that process.

“Ah ha!” Pidge exclaims, “Apasums are a species on Irmia that - when in suspected danger - release a dangerous toxin into the threat via skin contact. That’s probably what got Keith.” Pidge discovers within only a few minutes.

“Whatever happens next we might wanna hurry. He’s breaking out into hives now.” Lance comments, pulling back one of Keith’s sleeves for the others to see what he observed.

“Lance, Pidge, Hunk, the three of you will go out and capture some apsums in order for us to create an antidote. Coran, Shiro, and myself will stay and watch after Keith.” Allura explains the process. Everyone nods as a response and head off on their respected journeys, hoping to find the answer in time.

“Any luck, guys?” Shiro asks through the com system.

“Nothing. That’s weird. They should be around here but we haven’t seen anything indicating life let alone apasums.” Pidge comments as the group of three continue to lurk.

“I don’t know how much longer we can wait.” Shiro eagerly states. Pidge sighs at the realization.

“Let me check the species logs for Irmia again.” Pidge suggests, stopping to pull them up on the screen and search.

Hunk and Lance stop as well, waiting for Pidge to finish and hopefully find a more useful direction, because this area has nothing . Pidge looks through as much data as possible and still finds confusion. Next step; weather data. Pidge freezes as the quick knowledge and lack of hope. The teammates catch on.

“Pidge, what is it?” Lance grows intrigued.

“Did you find them?” Hunk asks hopefully.

“Guys, we have a problem.” Pidge swallows a lump, “Irmia is going through something similar to a drought on Earth, but with magnesium.”

“So? Good for it?” Lance questions the importance.

“No, you don’t get it. It’s been going on for months . Apasums can’t survive in an environment without magnesium, it’s like their oxygen.” Pidge declares, causing a wave of silence, “We don’t know what hurt Keith.”

“Great! This is great!” Lance exclaims, exhausted with the useless search and frustrated with the lack of improvement as is everyone else.

“We’re coming back.” Pidge announces, knowing everyone is informed.

“Good idea.” Shiro agrees.

The group of three trudge their way back to the castle. Hunk distraught at the lost hope for Keith’s recovery and Lance annoyed with space in general. Pidge attempts thinking through as many aspects as possible, knowing Keith’s running out of time. A respiratory tube can only do so much. What happens when the swelling develops? When the blood can’t travel properly, serving as a slow coagulate.

Pidge stops. Only feet away from the castle and at a revelation as everyone goes together at once.

“Pidge?” Hunk says.

“God, I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I think of that.” Pidge mumbles, suddenly breaking into a sprint and rushing through the castle, Hunk and Lance following close behind in confusion.

“What? What is it?” Lance yells from behind.

“Melittin!” Pidge yells, running into the med bay, out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” Hunk asks, trying to compose himself. Shiro has stood up with interest as the two Alteans have caught eye as well.

“Check the berries for melittin!” Pidge demands, pointing to Shiro’s forgotten bag.

“What? How does that have any relation to-“ Shiro starts to argue.

“Just do it.” Pidge impatiently argues back. Hunk takes action by grabbing the satchel and running off to the lab, causing some sense of calm amongst the others.

“Ok, gonna tell me what’s going on?” Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“Keith’s not allergic to bees.” Pidge comments. Shiro opens his mouth to argue, but Pidge continues, “ No one is directly allergic to just bees. It’s what’s in the venom, the apitoxin it releases .”

“I’m not catching on.” Shiro shakes his head. Pidge sighs and composes once again.

“Apitoxin is made up on generally melittin with other peptides, but those are important. Keith’s having an allergic reaction to the melittin . Those berries we ate? Pure melittin.” Pidge announces.

“Then how come we aren’t reacting to it. It’s venom .” Lance questions.

“No, it’s a component for venom. It itself is not venom. It’s harmless, at least to most people. The moment you bite into one it releases these pheromones that smell like bananas, sound familiar . It’s just another indication of its strong composition.” Pidge explains with a smile at the news.

“Pidge, you’re a genius!” Shiro exclaims, running to hug the green Paladin who giggles.

“I try.” Pidge smiles through the hug.

The two let go and Shiro pats Pidge’s shoulder reassuringly. Pidge and Lance go off to explain this to Hunk and the Alteans while Shiro stays by his brothers side. He looks down at the pale kid and his moving chest, cherishing it. He smiles at him and whispers to no one in particular.

“Let’s fix you up, bumblebee.”

Chapter Text

When Keith was younger, and the foster system was new to him, he counted stars instead of sheep. He counted stats because it was the one thing he knew he’d always have no matter where he went. He could lose everything, everyone, but he’d still have the stars.

It helped on particularly bad moments. He remembers one night when his foster parents were arguing so loudly he was positive it could be heard throughout the household. He could cover his ears and hum as many songs as he remembered, but nothing drowned their anger. Yet, the shiny shimmer from the bright stars cleared his mind. 1...2...3...4...5...6…. He’d count with a persistent distraction. He never remembered the number the morning after, but he didn’t mind starting all over again. And maybe, just maybe , one day he’ll count them all.

“Keith, report.” Shiro orders through the coms.

“No suspicious activity in my section.” Keith conveys the information, continuing his search for unusual behavior in the environment. The innocent alien planet had suffered a bad weather condition similar to an earthquake. The team was now in search for survivors to assist.

Shiro acknowledged Keith’s response but said nothing, going to get reports from the others. Keith starts to observe some more. He suddenly came upon a structure similar to the buildings on Earth. He noticed that a small portion of the site had crumbled away, more than likely from the damage, emphasizing the weak points of the building. Considering it looked similar to a workplace back on Earth, Keith decided to venture in and get a better look.

Keith wasn’t much of a creative person, so imaging the design prior was difficult for him. This didn’t stop him from stepping over debris to get to different sides and floors of the building. Severe damage has obviously taken place but he isn’t sure if any survivors were present. He continues in his search.

“...eith...ake...ock…” A voice cracks through the com system. Thinking he heard his name, Keith pressed the button on the side of his helmet and tries to get in contact.

“I’m here. Could you repeat that?” He asks.

“Ear...ake...af...ock…” The voice cracks once again. Keith sighs, frustrated, and tries again with a more stern tone.

“Hello? Does anyone read me?” He persists in his tone.

“...eith...ch...ut...aftershock.”

Keith’s eyes widen in quick realization. Most of the message didn’t make sense, but the word ‘aftershock’ came to him loud and clear. Know the danger this put him in, he booked it.

As fast as he could move his body, Keith ran to the nearest exit of the building, not caring in what direction because he’d rather be lost than pancaked by alien building material.

He can feel the ground start to shake only slightly, warning him for what’s to come. He pushes harder to get away, ignoring anything else around him or in the com system. He can feel the building start to collapse and refused to give up. Once an exit came clear to him, he dives out of the building.

He doesn’t make it far enough. He’s made it far enough. A few inches less and he may be 2D. But suddenly a ear blasting boom silences the air as wind rushes with bricks falling aimlessly. The sudden feeling of cold and rough rock meets his body, dragging him down to the ground. He allows the tumbling of brick to take him and swallow him whole.

He’s not entirely sure how long the crashing lasts or if he had passed out or not because the next thing he remembers in a deafening ringing in his ears, blurring vision, and pressure on his lower half. Knowing he has to get out and search for help, he tries pushing away rubble. He’s weak and sore, but uses what strength he has left.

After managing a rock off his upper half and face, he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to calm down. Slowly the world stops spinning and the static in his ears wash out. He coughs away the dust in his lungs and looks around at the damage. He got lucky . He was on the outskirts of the damage, knowing he would be worse off any closer.

He focuses his attention on the pressure on his lower half. He’s about to move the rubble p, or at least attempt to, but stops when he sees crimson red. Blood seeps from the edges of his legs he can see, coloring his suit and the ground below him. He couldn’t move the rocks. If he did, then he would bleed out from the damage done to his legs. But, the pressure on his legs would soon hurt beyond anything he’s ever felt. As of now he was in shock, not feeling anything, but knew that would change eventually.

He groans, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration and annoyance and laying his head back. With his eyes closed and mind open, he tries communicating with the others.

“Guys? Hello? Is anyone there? I need help!” Keith admits, desperate for someone to come save him. Nothing but static follows his plea. He doesn’t bother with a second time.

He opens his eyes and notices the night sky above him. The bright lights in space didn’t create the same constellations, but the stars twinkled nonetheless. He scoffed at the old memory, having completely forgotten about it.

It was in that moment that his shock factor began to wear off. He winces hard and groans out in pain, his back arching and hands going down to grab at something but leaving him with nothing. He grits his teeth and tries to bare through, finding it difficult. A hot sensation burned his skin so terribly he wanted to pull away but couldn’t find the strength to even attempt, so his upper half tried to deal with it best it could. He could feel the rock set directly above his bone, threatening moments away from crushing it. He didn’t want this to go on any longer, but he never really got what the wanted.

Letting out direct huffs and gasping for breath to compose himself, Keith begins to panic. He heaves out breaths to control himself, trying to calm down but finding it impossible. He knows it’s not the best idea, but he hopes to pass out so he doesn’t have to feel the pain anymore. Yet, his body differs.

“...eith? Keith?” A voice suddenly breaks through. Keith shakingly pushes the button to speak.

“I’m hurt bad, guys. I need backup right away.” He grits through his teeth, trying not to breakdown through simply speaking.

“We’re on our way, Keith. Hang on, buddy.” The same voice assures him. All he can do is nod, knowing they couldn’t see him but he didn’t care. A yelp escapes his lips as the rocks seem to poke at a bundle of nerves, causing a small whimper to release as well, “Keith? You’re gonna be Ok, man.”

Keith exhales sharply, holding back a sob he doesn’t have the time for. He can slowly feel the rubble crush his bones and allows silent tears to escape but no more. He pushes his head back against the ground, trying to keep the tears back and breathing leveled. Staring at the night sky, he scoffs alongside a chuckle.

“1…” He chuckles as the tears begin to stream down his face with his ironic smile to the situation.

“4…5…6…7…” He sniffles through the tears, chuckling again, not thinking he’d ever be in this place. At least not this early.

“12…13…14…” He chokes on the last number, feeling an overwhelming wave of pain coarse through his numb veins. He swallows the lump in his throat and continues to count. The stars were his, and he wasn’t going to let some stupid building take them away from him.

“Keith! Keith!” A high pitched voice runs towards him, but he keeps his attention on the stars and continues to count. Pidge runs to kneel beside him, worry written in tone, “You’re gonna be Ok, buddy. We’ve got help coming. What are you doing?” Pidge asks upon realizing Keith was counting .

“Counting the stars.” Keith whispers, finding it harder and harder to push through. Pidge looks up at the stars as well and relays some information to Keith.

“Keith, there’s gotta be a billion trillion stars in all of space, you can’t count them all.” Pidge solemnly responds.

“A billion trillion, huh?” Keith smiles, his eyes watering and tone nothing above a whisper.

“Yeah, 21 zeros.” Pidge nods.

Keith scoffs with a bright smile. He felt so silly for thinking he could count them all when Pidge would surely have the answer. Though, he’d do it all again if he had the chance. Though now, he didn’t.

His eyes started to drift and body started to go numb. As darkness filled his vision he began to think of the dark background space holds and thought to himself as he drift away.

‘If I can’t count them, then I’ll join them. Make it a billion trillion and one.’

Chapter Text

Keith has always been a huge fan of planning; he relies upon it. Cycle after cycle of uncertainties in his life forces him to find peace in small things where confidence and reliability lay. He tells himself it’s not about control–but rather security–and that a survival skill such as this is crucial for the world he lives in. He knew that not many others share this belief; some place all their trust in their hearts and all their fears in the air.

Keith does not share the same luxury of being so carefree.

“Are you even lifting?” Lance peaks his head around the giant plant to glare at Keith.

“I am! Are you ?” Keith mirrors the other, locking eyes with him.

“Guys, could we focus on lifting the giant flower, please?” Hunk shakily interjects, straining to compensate for the weight added once the two halted their focus.

“It’s not a flower, Hunk. It’s an omagnio plant.” Pidge corrects from the front, leading the group back to the Green Lion.

“Flower, mango plant-”

“ Omagnio .”

“Whatever, can we just hurry up and get this thing back to the ship.” Hunk pleads, sighing out in relief when Keith and Lance reclaim their share of the lifting.

“Why do we even need this stupid thing anyways,” Lance grumbles as his feet shuffle alongside his team.

“Do you ever listen when Coran debriefs us about these missions?” Keith questions gruffly.

“I started zoning out once he started talking about ecosystem revival and keystone species,” Lance admits indifferently.

“Coran’s gonna imitate the omagnio so it can artificially reproduce. The Galra completely destroyed the soil, atmosphere, and overall life on this planet. Replenishing the omagnio will help rebuild the ecosystem.” Pidge trivially explains as Lance fake snores halfway through.

“ Boooring !” Lance enunciates.

“Then don’t ask stupid questions,” Keith grumbles.

“I do what I want.” Lance smugly responds.

“Whatever.” Keith huffs, ending the conversation.

The trio is abruptly halted as they bump into something, plopping them firmly against the ground and the plant rolling onto its side. Keith is quick to investigate, only to find Pidge kneeling down.

“What the hell, Pidge?” Lance shouts angrily, dusting the dirt off his suit.

“What is it? Did you find something?” Keith takes a more mature approach.

“This plant,” Pidge gently caresses the vibrant leaf. “It looks identical to the omagnio.”

“Much smaller, too. Let’s take that one instead.” Hunk suggests while stretching his arms and back, relishing in the minute break he is given.

“No, no, it looks identical, but it’s missing a microsporangia.” Pidge confides with a tilt of the head.

“Micro- what ?” Lance repeats as he inches for a closer look.

“It’s where plants produce their pollen. Omagnio plants need them to reproduce but this one doesn’t have one.” Pidge softly inspects each side of the juvenile plant, confirming any suspicions. 

“So? Why does it matter?” Keith crosses his arms, partially annoyed by the interruption.

“This means the omagnio plant has adapted to an asexual reproduction cycle, in what? A matter of months ? It’s unheard of for a species to evolve so rapidly and intensely.” Pidge admires with fondness.

“Let’s take it with us then,” Keith suggests. He couldn’t care less about this stupid flower, but the way Pidge described it made it seem like a scientific wonder. Not to mention, if it meant Pidge would be occupied with this plant rather than utilizing Keith as a guinea pig for different projects, he would gladly steal some silly weed from a planet.

“We shouldn’t. I don’t want to interrupt the development cycle.” Pidge solemnly finishes observing, standing back up to reluctantly continue the journey.

“Suit yourself.” Keith shrugs, walking back with Hunk and Lance to hoist the plant up. 

Coran had given them the rundown of the planet’s composition, threats, and resources before landing. A major concern he presented was the tectonic plates. This planet had an incredibly unstable core with even more unstable land. The mineral composition was soft and malleable, making it more susceptible to earthquakes, sinkholes, and fault lines amongst other natural disasters. So far the planet has been gracious enough to release the omagnio plant without any issues.

Perhaps it changed its mind?

Keith lowers his arms and pivots his feet in preparation to lift the plant, but something catches his eye. He notices a small crack in the dry surface a few inches from Pidge’s foot; it definitely wasn’t there before. It was such a minuscule detail that it shouldn't constitute anything, but Keith knew better than to take things at face value.

He observes another crack manifest by Pidge’s other foot before a chain reaction is instantly set off. A large crevice appears in between Pidge’s feet and Keith knows he needs to act.

“Pidge!” Keith warns, abandoning the plant and leaping for the Green Paladin.

He pushes Pidge far away, likely causing injury along the way, but it is more favorable in comparison to the alternative. The relief from pushing Pidge out of harm's way is quickly overshadowed by the ground being removed beneath him. He blinks and suddenly his body is snug against the cold rigid ground with an agonizing pain in his leg.

He cannot control the pained scream that escapes his lips, despite his most desperate attempts to silence himself. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he manages to roll onto his side, push himself up, and prop his back against the wall. He’s then able to fully inspect his injury. 

His right leg is resting in a bent position. Despite his knee holding straight, the space between his calf and ankle has formed a painful red bump where his foot points abnormally. He fears that a simple twitch will force the broken bone to tear through his skin, furthering his torture.

“Keith! Keith, can you hear me?” Pidge calls from above. 

“Shit.” Keith curses, ignoring the calls from above to revamp the mission. This was not part of the plan. He hated having to revise perfectly good plans.

“Keith, are you Ok?” Hunk calls next, his voice sweet and calming to Keith’s ears.

“I think I broke my leg!” Keith finally calls back, staring in the direction of his team but obstructed by a cloud of dirt.

“Can you try and stand up?” Lance recommends, unsure of how severe the break is. The only thing he can do is wait for the dust to settle and reveal something other than Keith’s vibrant suit.

Keith forces himself to push up on his hands, but the smallest sprinkle of movement causes pain to flood his veins. He can feel it everywhere . He feels the burn in his lungs, the ache in his back, and the strain in his thighs–it hurts . He’s no stranger to pain; he’d been beaten, burned, cut, scarred to oblivion, and much more. Despite this, he would gladly take anything over the hurt he felt radiating in waves across his skin. He falls back against the cold wall with a yelp.

The dust must have settled because he hears Pidge gasp and Hunk retching nearby. The sound of distant shifts and cracks fills the air. It’s not long before the noises crescendo into a mutilated symphony accompanied by a light shiver from the planet.

“Earthquake?” Lance whispers in revelation.

“No,” Pidge softly rejects. “ Fault line .”

“We need to get-”

“Get the plant to the Green Lion!” Keith orders, cutting off Hunk’s words.

“We need to get you out first.” Pidge corrects, seemingly offended by the demand.

“Focus on the mission. Get the plant to the Green Lion and then come back and get me.” Keith reiterates with laboring breaths.

“We can’t just-” Pidge starts to argue.

“ NOW! ” Keith yells back.

The three paladins want to dispute with Keith– plead with him to save him above all else, but the urgency in his words and authority in his shaky voice was far too startling to contend. He was compelling and damning.

He sounded so much like Shiro.

Keith watches as the three heads above him hesitantly disappear, leaving his survival solely dependent on his own choices– exactly how he likes it.

Keith heaves out painful breaths and pushes himself up, biting back a scream as he trembles. He manages to stand up straight and view the land just above his head. Keith knew he had the strength to pull himself up and out of this hole and climb away, but his damn leg was offering nothing other than restraint and terror.

He scans the terrain for a branch or something to grab onto but only finds a whirring sound filling his ears. He perks up and looks around to see a flying piece of debris heading straight towards him. He swiftly ducks and smiles as he watches the object crash into a rock pillar nearby.

The second he turns back around he is smacked in the face with a smaller piece of debris, sending him flying back into the hole. His head smacks roughly against the cold walls and all air leaves his lungs.

He pushes down the dizziness and vertigo he feels to focus on his breathing first. He closes his eyes and breaths– in and out, in and out . He feels determination course through his veins once more (or perhaps it was just the adrenaline?). He opens his eyes to center himself but is met with a cliff edge slowly starting to break away.

“Fuck.” Keith curses.

The crackle and pop of the land is enough for him to close his eyes again, accepting whatever happens next. He patiently and calmly waits for the word to turn dark, but it never comes. Instead, he hears the blasting of a laser alongside miniscule pebbles from the debris begin to dust him kindly. He opens his eyes to see Lance’s eyes meeting his own.

“Hello, Keith,” Lance smirks proudly.

“What the hell?” Keith lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s trying really hard to focus on the task at hand, but the haze in his brain is drowning him.

“I gotchu, buddy.” Lance confidently claims, hopping down into the trench. He leans down to pick up Keith but stops when he flinches at the possibility of touch. “It’s gonna hurt, but it’s the only way.”

Keith timidly nods and relaxes, resurfacing just a smidge from his confusion. Lance gently lifts Keith in his arms, mentally blocking the shriek pushing past Keith’s lips. Lance’s height allowed him further altitude and more accessible means to hoist Keith up and onto the ground. He lays the Red Paladin down kindly before climbing out himself.

Keith instantly notices a large piece of black bark on the ground, a small hole punches out the front with a rope threaded through–like some sort of makeshift sled.

“Let’s go.” Lance claps his hands together, adjusting Keith onto the bark and beginning to pull him across the crumbling land. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to reach the rest of the group. “Here, you take over, Pidge.”

Lance hands the rope to the Green Paladin before managing the giant plant with Hunk. It’s clear by the short journey and passage of responsibility that Lance went back for Keith before securing the plant–a clear disregard for his orders. Keith stares up at Pidge who is struggling to pull him.

“You guys were supposed to get the plant first.” Keith struggles to say, the bumps and divots in the ground painting unkindly against his nerves.

“We’re multitasking.” Lance smiles while trudging along Hunk at a similar pace to Pidge.

“This is ridiculous,” Keith grumbles, unable to do much other than voice his complaints. 

Keith watches the turf pass through his eyes with each yank of the rope. He strains his neck to look ahead when he hears a loud echo of a craaack inch closer to the group; the fault line is rapidly growing. Keith had little faith in their ability to reach the Lion at this rate.

“Fuck this.” Lance seems to have experienced the same revelation. He drops the plant, startling Hunk. “Let’s go.”

Lance makes the executive decision to abort the mission. Hunk and Pidge are more than willing to cease their duties and return to a rather normal pace, the weight of their own bodies feeling lighter than anything they’d ever lifted.

“Get on.” Lance crouches down in front of Keith, motioning for him to get on his back.

Keith wants to argue; he wants to scream and yell and scold Lance for ignoring the mission, but he can’t find the energy to do so. Instead, he begrudgingly complies and wraps his arms around Lance’s neck. A yelp escapes him when Lance hoists him up higher and comfortably before running alongside the others.

This method of transportation was already proving to be more reliable. They reach the Green Lion in a matter of seconds, all piling on board to leave the decomposing planet. Pidge takes refuge in the familiar pilot seat and calls Allura and Coran. Hunk tends to Keith so that Lance can take a breather nearby.

“We’re heading back without the plant. Keith’s injured and the planet is crumbling.” Pidge reports once the call is answered.

“Do I need to prepare a pod?” Coran questions the severity. 

“Not sure, yet. He broke his leg pretty badly. We can figure it out when we get back.” Pidge decides to which Coran firmly nods.

“Be careful while exiting the atmosphere, there are several gaps in the ozone layer and the solar energy may blind you,” Allura warns. Pidge thankfully nods at the information before ending the call, slowly navigating the sky.

“You disobeyed a direct order.” Keith glares at the Blue Paladin resting across from him. Lance lifts his head from his peace and shifts to anger.

“You’re welcome.” Lance snaps back.

“For what? For failing the mission?” Keith growls. Hunk places a gentle hand on his chest and pushes him back, urging constraint so that he can inject Keith with some pain meds.

“I’m sorry for choosing your life over that of a stupid flower !” Lance yells, oblivious to the way Keith flinches at his volume. Pidge holds back the urge to correct his terminology. 

“You should be.” Keith calmly bites back as Hunk begins injecting the Altean equivalent of morphine.

“Fine! Next time I’ll make sure to save the dumb mission over your ungrateful ass! I’ll just leave you to die, I guess.” Lance huffs out, crossing his arms.

“Good! Maybe you should!” Keith snips with a bit more force than intended.

The words leave Keith’s mouth before he can stop them. He isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth or not, but sincerity doesn’t matter when something as jarring as that has already been said. The air softens at the sentence, altering the mood instantly and completely. Lance freezes in uncertainty; he is still mad at Keith, but how could he be mad at this?

“Keith, how about we-” Hunk starts, reassuringly squeezing his friend’s shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I have this massive headache and I just don’t feel all there right now.” Keith sighs out an apology for his outburst.

“Headache? Did you hit your head when you fell?” Hunk quickly examines with concern, obtaining their medical tablet to begin a brain scan.

“I don’t think so? Maybe? I remember getting hit by something and it hurting, but I’m not really sure. It’s all fuzzy.” Keith rubs his temple at the consistent pounding.

“It looks like a concussion.” Hunk adjusts the angle of the scan for a better look. “Can’t tell how severe it is.” Hunk puts the tablet away and shifts to turn off the lights before grabbing Keith a bottle of water.

“That explains the bitchy behavior.” Pidge mumbles.

“I’m so tired.” Keith sighs, finding peace in the darkened cockpit.

“We’re almost there,” Pidge responds more clearly.

Keith nods blankly and watches Hunk shove a water pouch towards his face. He cautiously takes small sips as Hunk begins to work on his leg. The pain meds are stronger than Keith thought, he can’t even tell someone is touching him other than a small pressure in his hips and the obvious proof in front of his eyes. 

Keith’s eyes wander up to see Lance staring at him. Neither of them retreats from the connection, they simply hold it and allow their thoughts to run wild. Lance’s eyes flutter down to Keith’s leg for a second before returning to the droopy eyelids of the Red Paladin.

“I’d do it again,” Lance assures solemnly. “In a heartbeat.”

“I know.” Keith acknowledges barely above a whisper.

“Would you have done the same?” Lance asks softly. It’s not meant to be malicious or pretentious, it’s genuine , and perhaps that’s what makes it so much worse.

Keith doesn’t answer. He wants to lie and say ‘No.’ because it would be far simpler than admitting weakness. No words come out of his mouth. He feels the air get hazy and his vision gets muddled in a matter of seconds, all the exhaustion and confusion catching up to him.

He can’t focus on a single color or inch of motion, and to be fair, he doesn’t really want to. He enjoys the blissful existence he experiences when he’s left with nothing other than mundane thoughts. He’s in a state where he can think of whatever he wants without feeling all the negative side effects.

Things didn’t always go as planned–Keith knew this, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed in himself when he failed. There was only so much he could prepare for and the limitations were exhausting. He didn’t want to feel this way. His feelings of security relied upon life, hope, and predictions–some of the most inconsistent aspects of the universe. He didn’t want this anymore. He didn’t want to feel so drained and hopeless all the time.

“I would.” Keith manages to slur the words, praying that someone hears him wherever his body is in the moment.

“We know.”

Chapter Text

“Bringing Neupax back to his planet now. Current ETA is 5 minutes.” Keith lifts his finger from the com system and relaxes into his chair.

“My species is actually parthenogenetic.” Neupax kindly chimes in from a seat behind Keith.

“What does that mean?” Keith blandly continues the discussion.

“We are sexually apathetic. We reproduce asexually, so we have no need for gender classification.” Neupax elaborates.

“So, no girls or boys or whatever?” Keith questions, slight interest in the conversation.

“Of course not.” Neupax chuckles as if it were obvious. “We are nearly identical, excluding consciousness.”

“If you’re all the same, shouldn’t you be some giant hivemind?” Keith challenges.

“Our environmental and experiential developments shape us, resulting in differences. There is also the occasional mutation that differentiates others from the general population.” Neupax simply explains, fidgeting with the seatbelt that Keith assisted them with. The technology of Voltron was something far beyond what they have produced and each interaction seemed to reveal new wonders.

“Cool.” Keith nods flatly–he never was one for social interactions.

“Does Earth have hybrids such as yourself?” Neupax leans in to ask.

“Uh-” Keith clears his throat, almost choking at the question. “We don’t call it that. We call it ‘mixed race’, but yeah, we’ve got quite a few.”

“No, no, no.” Neupax laughs at the confusion. “I mean species hybrids: half-Galra half-Human, like you. Have you learned to coexist?”

“How did you know I was half-Galra?” Keith glares at the reflection of Neupax in his front window, slightly uneasy from the reveal.

“I can sense it.” Neupax relaxes against their chair, admiring the interior of the cockpit.

“Like a Spidey-sense?” Keith chuckles to himself.

“I am unfamiliar with the term.” Neupax tilts their head at the term.

“Oh, like a premonition.” Keith clarifies.

“I suppose. My species developed it after the Galra began to invade as a means of protection.” Neupax settles uncomfortably against their chair, staring straight into space. Keith is oblivious to the shift in their tone.

“That’s good. It’s managed to keep you safe for this long.” Keith commends.

“Yes, it has. Although, we have faced so little Galran threats that we have no need for this adaptation anymore. Less and less are emerging with this ability. I am the last of just a few.” Neupax solemnly reveals.

“Is that why you were sent to join Voltron’s alliance?” Keith quietly adds in revelation.

“Yes.” Neupax nods. “We are no longer sufficient for our own survival. I worry that we are weakening as a species. I fear for my children.” Neupax adds the last comment softly as if they didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“You have a family?” Keith attempts to change the upsetting topic as he starts his descent onto the planet.

“Yes! Two young ones.” Neupax lights up at the opportunity to talk about their family.

“Do you have, like, a partner, or something? Like, are you married– do you marry?” Keith enters the atmosphere with ease.

“Something like that.” Neupax snickers at the naivety of the Red Paladin. “I have a companion: Melmis. We both parent my offspring–Turbo–and Melmis’ offspring–Caumo.”

“That sounds nice.” Keith feels himself brighten as he pictures the happy family.

“What about yourself? You must have an interesting family dynamic with the Galran mix?” Neupax innocently furthers the conversation.

Keith purses his lips as he gently lands the Red Lion to the ground. Neupax has shared some deeply personal and vulnerable information during this ride and Keith felt he needed to share something equally valuable in return. No matter how much he wanted to add, there was nothing to offer. He didn’t have a loving partner, or compassionate parents, or admirable siblings–he had nothing . He had himself and perhaps that was all he’d ever have.

“We’re here.” Keith unbuckles himself and turns to unbuckle Neupax as well, not daring to meet their eyes. He sits back in his chair and soaks in the empty air, prompting Neupax to make the next move.

“Would you like to meet them?” Neupax softly asks, just above a whisper.

Keith’s breath catches in his throat. Why would he ever want to meet a family that held everything he’s ever wanted? Why would he want to be reminded of what could’ve been but never was? Why would he need yet another reason to hate his past more than his future?

“Please,” Keith whispers back, turning to lock eyes with Neupax.

Neupax nods and allows Keith to lead them outside the Lion and towards the village. They don’t make it more than a few steps before Neupax stops in their tracks and pats their sides in search of something.

“Oh! I left my satchel inside! I’ll be right back.” Neupax shouts, running back towards the Red Lion.

Keith shrugs and motions for Red to open the cockpit and allow Neupax access. It takes a few seconds longer than Keith would’ve imagined, but their trip is promptly resumed as they venture down a carefully crafted dirt path leading to the village.

“What are they like?” Keith awkwardly asks.

“Turbo is the polar opposite of myself. They are reserved but adventurous. They are constantly competing with their classmate, Orthy.” Neupax chuckles at the description and Keith can’t help but smile back. “Caumo is exactly like Melmis. They are funny and silly, but still very compassionate. They are both going to grow up to do amazing things.”

Keith feels a surge of happiness radiate off Neupax and pass to himself. The fondness with which they spoke was positively contagious. He absently kicks a rock across the path as he soaks in Neupax’s words. Perhaps it was the conversation, or the dusty path, or how the air reeked of a familiar scent, but Keith didn’t want to leave this moment.

“And- And your parents?” Keith hesitantly asks as he sends the rock flying into nearby fields.

“ My parents.” Neupax takes a deep breath and Keith feels the air thicken. “I was raised by my biological parent. They were not very prepared to take care of me, but they did what they could.”

Neupax leaves it at that and so does Keith. He understands. He truly does. His father wasn’t very prepared to raise a kid all by himself either. Keith opens his mouth to speak but is silenced by the change in pace. He glances over to see Neupax has slowed to a stop in the middle of the road, their face drained of color and eyes rapidly darting around.

“Are you-” Keith starts, but Neupax cuts him off.

They tackle Keith to the ground just as a laser beam shoots over their heads. They both look up to see a Galra soldier hiding behind a bush. Keith quickly pulls out his bayard, manifests his sword, and disarms the threat. He tosses the gun to Neupax so that they have something to defend themselves with.

“Get down!” Neupax shouts, pulling Keith behind a rock. The two settle against the cold surface as lasers bombard their small hiding spot. Keith isn’t even graced with a moment of peace to peek over and check how many there are.

“Guys, we’ve got an issue. Neupax and I have been ambushed. I’m not sure how many there are but we need backup ASAP, a whole village is in jeopardy.” Keith speaks into the radio system Pidge had installed in all their suits.

“They are not going to cease.” Neupax slowly realizes.

“Voltron is coming to help, we just need to hold on a little longer.” Keith grits through his teeth as a particularly bad blast shakes their hiding spot. He looks ahead to see a larger rock only a few yards away. “C’mon!”

He grabs Neupax and leads them to the larger rock, just barely missing a few knicks from the lasers. He kneels down, out of breath, and opens the comms system once more when Neupax places a gentle hand on his shoulder. Keith looks over to see a gloss across their eyes and a sad smile.

“Please, forgive me. Your kindness has been…refreshing.” Neupax breathes out, giving Keith’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Keith’s eyes widened in confusion and concern.

“What-” His words are too late and his body isn’t quick enough to react as Neupax is gone from his sight, quietly managing their way to the previous rock.

Keith can only watch as Neupax swiftly and expertly sneaks around and past Galra soldiers, leading them further and further away from Keith. They eventually hide behind a tree with a large metal container beside it and in an instant Keith understood. That familiar smell from earlier had been a warning–an opportunity, even.

Gasoline .

Keith peers around the other side of the rock to get a better look at Neupax, locking eyes. He shakes his head, pleading with them to stop, but only receives a solemn smile back.

“They would have loved you,” Neupax shouts, barely recognizable over the blasting.

And then Neupax is standing out in the open, right in front of the container, begging the soldiers to shoot them alongside the very flammable gas.

“STOP!” Keith stands up and shouts, but his words don’t reach any ears other than his own. 

The world is filled with flames as it sends Keith flying back. His entire body smacks against a few stray rocks and his helmet cracks from the impact. His ears are ringing and his body is fading from his mind. He can’t even pinpoint where the pain is anymore, but it’s everywhere. He tries to push himself up but the world spins him back to the ground. Each blink feels like years and eventually, Keith can’t fight it anymore. He succumbs to the darkness and lets it consume him whole.

Keith feels the world bloom around him as the chilling air strikes his skin. He releases a small huff as his body collapses into the openness. A pair of warm arms wrap around him, gently holding him up. It’s familiar and soothing and Keith can’t help but lean into it. He pulls away only to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. 

“Shiro?” His voice sounds hoarse and weak, not much different than the rest of his body.

“Yeah. bud.” Shiro smiles, his voice soft and subtle like how he used to talk to him when he was a kid. “Here.”

Shiro guides him down to sit on the steps with a gentle hand on his back. Keith looks up and notices the rest of the team anxiously watching nearby, clearly unsure of what to do with themselves. They seemed scared? Not scared. Nervous? It all felt so confusing.

“How do you feel?” Shiro breaks the silence with a tender question.

“Alright, I guess? My head’s a little fuzzy, but I think I’m Ok.” Keith responds honestly. He’s about to ask what happened when a sudden pain strikes his temple, sending a familiar ache across his bones. “ Neupax .”

Keith is on his feet in an instant, pushing past the wobble in his legs and sway of his body. He earns a collective uproar of concern from the others, all encouraging him to sit back down.

“Where’s Neupax? Are they Ok?” Keith struggles to move, allowing his weak muscles to rest as Shiro grabs him and sits him back down.

“Calm down, Keith. You need to get your strength back first.” Shiro tries to reason, knowing full well of the futility.

“Where’s Neupax?” Keith repeats his question more firmly, looking into Shiro’s eyes for some sort of question– anything , but Shiro offers nothing other than patience.

“Not here.” Shiro hesitantly pushes out the words.

“We need to help them.” Keith pushes himself up once more, clearly more adjusted to his body and strength.

“There is no one left to save.” Allura softly whispers, causing Keith to stop in his tracks. He turns on his heel to face the Princess and feels a sudden wave of anger crash over him.

“Excuse me?” Keith questions in disbelief.

“Neupax is gone, alongside the Village.” Allura calmly elaborates. She allows Keith a moment to absorb the words before continuing. “By the time we got there, half the planet was destroyed, Keith.”

“No.” Keith shakes his head. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.” Keith turns back around with the intention to walk away but is stopped by a tender hand on his shoulder. He looks over to see Coran’s melancholy eyes and quiet wrinkles.

“My boy.” Coran turns him around and places both hands on his shoulders, grounding him. “There were no survivors. With the injuries you sustained, you are lucky to be alive yourself.” Coran whispers to him.

He didn’t feel very lucky.

He felt disgusted. He felt ashamed and embarrassed. Not only did he fail the mission, but he failed Neupax and their entire civilization. He failed an entire planet . 

He killed them.

“I’m going to bed,” Keith mutters, letting Coran’s hands fall from his shoulders.

They let him walk away. They let him drag his feet to his room and sulk in his sorrows. Keith takes advantage of the distance they’ve given him. He grabs a backpack and begins to stuff it with knives, water, bandages, a change of clothes, and anything else he feels may be necessary. 

He throws on a dark jacket and lifts the hood, slinging the backpack over his shoulder and preparing to leave his room. He scans the hallway to ensure it’s clear before swiftly making his way to the hangars. He walks up to Red and pulls back his hood.

“Are you Ok?” Keith whispers, gently petting the nose of his Lion. He feels a soft purr vibrate against his bones and he understands. They were both hurting despite all their wounds being healed.

Red lets him in and he places his bag on the floor before heading for the pilot chair. He freezes at the sight of a small picture placed gently against the fabric. He lifts it up to the light and feels his heart cry at the contents.

It’s a picture of Neupax and their family. Their arm is around Melmis and two kids are placed below. One is making a silly face–likely Caumo–and the other is attempting to climb Neupax’s side–definitely Turbo. Keith lets out a sad chuckle. They all look so happy–so at peace.

And he ruined that.

“I found it after hauling Red back to the Castle. I figured Neupax left it for you.” Lance makes his presence known from the dark corner of the cockpit, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. His pursed lips spoke displeasement with Keith’s plans but his eyes sang concerns beyond repair.

“It’s their family.” Keith gives a somber smile. “Their partner, Melmis, and their two kids, Turbo and Caumo.”

“I’m sure they were lovely,” Lance comments gently.

“Yeah.” Keith quietly whispers, running his fingers along the edges of the picture.

“There’s nothing you can do, Keith. Going back won’t change anything.” Lance reasons with the Red Paladin.

“No.” Keith shakes his head. “There- There must be something I can do.”

“You did all that you could.”

“And it wasn’t enough.”

“It was more than enough.”

“It wasn’t- It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. I could have scanned the area, or landed a little closer, or sacrificed myself instead.” Keith starts to ramble. Lance shakes his head solemnly.

“Neupax made their choice because they wanted you to live. They wanted you to go on and help the world and live a life.” Lance pushes off the wall and walks over to Keith. He grabs the picture from Keith’s shaking hands and flips it over to a handwritten message on the back. The lines are smooth, with soft curves and forgiving corners and connected loops. 

One day you will find a family, Keith. You will smile, and laugh, and cry, and in those moments you will know: this is what love feels like

Keith breaks.

He drops the picture to the floor and lets his head hang low, his shoulders shuddering as sobs wreck his body. He covers his mouth in an attempt to quiet himself but the tears striking the metal floor echo through the air alongside his muffled whimpers. He wraps his other arm around himself but finds no comfort in it.

Lance hesitantly wraps his arms around the shorter, rubbing his back and holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Lance whispers into his hair, letting Keith soak his shirt with tears and burn cries into his ears.

Perhaps Keith feels a sense of peace as Lance leads him back to his room and helps him to bed once he’s worn himself out. And perhaps his sleep is far longer and far sweeter than he felt he deserved. But it doesn’t change a thing. The village is still dead and Keith is still here, unjustly safe.

Although, Keith had a feeling in his chest; one that was fuzzy and refreshing. He feels it when Hunk dishes him extra sweets at dinner, and when Pidge lowers the music in the lounge when he walks in, and when Coran passionately talks to him about his ancestors, and when Allura sends the mice to retrieve a tool he dropped down a crevice, and when he wakes to Lance snoring outside his door, and when Shiro dusts off his shoulders and gives him a tender smile. Keith feels his thoughts quiet, and his lungs calm around these people and in an instant. he knows:

This is love.

Chapter Text

Things had started to get bad again.

Keith wasn’t sure when they started getting bad, but he was sure as hell aware of it now.

He stuck himself in the training room night after night in an attempt to drain out his thoughts. He felt the burn in his lungs, the ache in his legs, the drag of his swings, the sweat dripping down his cheek–and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

He distanced himself from his room, hoping the lack of isolation would encourage a more favorable feeling. He tried the lounge, the kitchen, the main deck–but they all felt just as cold and suffocating to be in. 

Perhaps he was being overdramatic? When he laughed his belly hurt and cheeks tired themselves in a way that felt refreshing. When he ate dinner he savored each bite, moving it around so every inch of his mouth could taste the sweetness. When he spoke he felt the words fall effortlessly off his tongue onto eager ears. 

So, why did he feel this way?

Why did his mind drift to dangerous places he knew he was not welcomed? Why did his skin itch and pull after each mission and before each shower? Why was waking up so painful but going to sleep was just as damning?

He hated feeling like this. He told himself he couldn’t feel like this if he were to be a Paladin of Voltron; Defenders of the Universe did not feel this way. He needed to feel something else– anything other than this heavy fog clouding his brain and fuzzy pit settling in his stomach. Yet, it seemed each attempt was just as unsuccessful as the last, each failure a new reminder of his fragility.

His eyes fell upon the utility belt laid upon his bedside table and the shiny glare from the knife that was inviting–no, pleading with him to beckon a little closer.

If he couldn’t control his feelings, then perhaps he could control his pain?

He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again; he promised Shiro he would never go back to the way he was. Although, that had been before Kerberos, before Voltron, before everything , and Keith didn’t feel like his previous commitment had considered such grand events. If there were any time he deserved a moment of weakness, it was now. He would do it just this once, and then never again.

Just this once .

He removes his jacket and lets it fall limp to the floor, resting aloof in contrast to his otherwise empty but clean room. He unsheathes the knife from its pocket and sits on the edge of his bed, admiring the way the blade danced against the blue luminescent light. 

He rolls up his short sleeve until it’s hugging his shoulder and snug under his arm. He hovers the knife over his upper arm (the marks were easier to hide this way) and gently lays the cold metal against his skin, feeling himself smile at the familiar feeling; he’s starting to feel better already.

He takes a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back. As he exhales, he pushes down and swipes the blade against his skin.

The second skin is broken there is unforgiving and relentless pain; it is hateful and bitter in all the wrong ways, sending panicked messages coursing through his veins. Although, the moment he pulls the knife away he feels the relief flood his body. Adrenaline and endorphins swim to the surface and drown him in ecstasy. 

He opens his eyes to watch the blood slowly bead up in a line and drip down his arm. He places the knife a little lower and cuts again.

And again.

And again.

Until his body is buzzing with warmth and his thoughts feel fluffy like clouds. He treasures the feeling–the control . The blood has started to pool against his skin, blurring where some cuts begin and others end, but he doesn’t care. It was never about the quantity nor craft, it was about the persistent sting in his arm that reminded him how rejuvenating he could feel.

Until he hears a knock at his door.

“Keith?”

Shit.

The adored solace slowly evaporates from his skin as the panic sets in. He throws the knife onto his bed and rummages through the utility belt to pull out some bandages. He doesn’t bother cleaning the cuts or using gauze (like Shiro had taught him to), he just hastily wraps a few layers across his skin and shoves his sleeve back down.

“Yeah?” Keith answers casually, hiding the rest of the roll and the knife in his sheets as he pushes himself to his feet. Lance lets himself in and raises an eyebrow at the awkwardness radiating off Keith’s stance.

“What are you doing?” Lance begins to chuckle.

“Nothing.” Keith responds instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, my God.” Lance’s eyes light up. “Were you just jerking off ?” He begins to cackle, holding his stomach and doubling over.

“ Jesus , Lance. What are you? 12? Just- What do you want?” Keith rubs a hand over his face.

“Oh, dinner’s ready and I…” Lance wipes tears from his eyes from laughing so hard but soon feels his stomach churn at the deep red now seeping through Keith’s sleeve.

“Lance?” Keith prompts with a tilt of his head.

“Oh, shit. Are you Ok? What happened?” Lance closes the gap between them and reaches for Keith’s sleeve.

“Just training. I guess I didn’t notice.” Keith is quick to pull away and reach for his jacket to cover himself up.

“ Didn’t notice ? Holy hell, man. That looks bad. We need to patch you up.” Lance grabs Keith’s jacket from his hands and tosses it behind him, much to Keith’s dismay.

“Alright, I got it. I’ll do that now. Bye.” Keith forces half of a smile before pushing Lance towards the door. Lance digs his feet into the ground, not allowing himself to be removed that quickly.

“Why are you acting all weird? Are you embarrassed?” Lance furrows his brows in confusion.

“A little, I guess. Listen, I can handle this, Lance.” Keith feigns a sheepish expression, motioning for Lance to leave the room.

“Dude, if you want, I can get Shiro instead and he-”

“NO!” Keith can’t stop himself from shouting. He clears his throat to calm the air before speaking again. “Uh, no. No. He needs a break. Let him enjoy his dinner. I’ll talk to him later. You know how overbearing he can get. I’ve got this under control, really.”

Lance just stares at him, trying (and failing) to read his expressions. Lance typically prides himself in his innate ability to empathize and read people exceptionally well, but Keith was impenetrable. 

He gives up on Keith and figures the room will offer him more context instead. It’s a quick glance, but it tells him far more than he needs. The room is exceptionally bland and simple. There’s the bed, Keith’s jacket, the connecting bathroom, the night stand, the utility belt-

The utility belt.

Which doesn’t have its knife or bandages?

“Keith?” Lance tilts his head back to the older. “Where’s your utility knife?”

“Hmm? Oh, I guess I must’ve misplaced it. I’ll find it eventually.” Keith glances at the belt as if he were just now realizing. It’s a blatant lie and he curses himself for taking such a lax approach. His awareness and persistence did not align with any of the words he was spewing, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that (despite how dull and ignorant he likes to think Lance to be).

“Are you gonna tell me what’s actually going on?” Lance crosses his arms but paints concern across his face and down his words.

Keith can only stare, debating his next choice. He goes through the list of excuses he used when on Earth, but none of them were solid or even possible at this point. He’s backed himself into a corner and now he must bargain his way out.

He plops back down against his bed with a sigh, stuffing his face into his hands resting his elbows on his thighs.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Keith looks up at the Blue Paladin with pleading eyes.

“Sure.” Lance nods, cautiously walking over to sit beside Keith, slightly shaken by the change in atmosphere.

“ Especially Shiro. He can’t know, Lance. Promise me you won’t tell Shiro.”

“I promise.” Lance softy agrees.

Keith nods before turning back to stare at the ground and carefully roll up his sleeve. He peels away each layer of blood-soaked wrap until he reaches the last one, pausing hesitantly before pulling it back with a wince. He shuts his eyes and prepares himself for Lance’s response.

Silence.

That’s all he gets.

The two sit in silence for a brief moment before Lance gets up without a word and enters the bathroom. Keith feels himself fall numb to the world. It wasn’t the good type of numb, where he blissfully floated to the ceiling as the air froze around him. No, this was the bad type of numb, where his body painfully shivered, and brain sifted through page after page of emotions but never quite settled on one long enough for it to matter.

He doesn’t move when Lance sits back down with a damp rag, alcohol pads, neosporin (or, the Altean equivalent), gauze, and some ace bandages. He doesn’t speak when Lance gently dabs the cloth against his cuts until he can differentiate the blood from the flushed skin. He doesn’t flinch when Lance rubs the cold disinfectant against his arms, sending a poignant sensation across his open wounds and filling his nostrils with a repulsive burn. He doesn’t let himself feel Lance gently tracing each cut with the ointment as if he could erase them with a single swipe. He doesn’t look to watch Lance place a gauze pad against his injury and expertly wrap the bandages around his arm.

“Do you want to talk about it right now?” Lance quietly offers as he cleans up the supplies and puts them away. He turns to sit back down beside Keith, who slowly rolls his sleeve back over the freshly bandaged wound and can only respond in a timid shake of his head. “Ok, well, we’ll have to talk about it eventually.”

“I know. Just, not now.”

Lance nods and picks up the jacket he mindlessly discarded earlier, handing it back to the original owner. He watches Keith meticulously pull it over his shoulders and through the sleeves, not daring to make eye contact.

“I’m gonna give you a minute, but everyone would really like to see you at dinner.” Lance announces. Keith doesn’t acknowledge his words so he takes that as his cue to leave.

He lets the door close behind him before he hurriedly hides around the corner. He pushes his back flat against the wall and lets out a deep breath, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He takes deep breaths like Hunk once taught him and lets his mind run wild.

Breathe in .

He sees his sister sitting on the back porch at 2AM, soaked in the moonlight.

Breathe out .

Smoking cigarettes, blowing clouds towards the sky, and then burning the ends into her thighs.

Breathe in .

She cries desperate tears as she pleads with Lance not to tell their parents.

Breathe out .

He was supposed to be sneaking off to a house party down the street.

Breathe in .

He is a man of his word: he holds her secret close.

Breathe out .

He won’t make the same mistake twice.

It’s been about a week since the incident with Lance and things are relatively normal. Life pursues alongside comfortable bickering and distasteful comments, but there are still cracks in the moment of time that remind him of what transpired.

Sometimes he catches Lance staring at him from across the dinner table, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. When they spar, Lance doesn’t attack his upper body anymore, going straight for a leg sweep or jab at his stomach. Lance’s usual insults have been traded for tireless attempts to simply annoy Keith, but he doesn’t really mind all that much.

Overall, Lance hadn’t brought up the situation and had seemingly no intentions of doing so (not that Keith would allow them to be alone long enough for that to happen).

Shiro: Hey, can you come to the lounge and help me move some stuff?

Me: sure omw

Keith shrugs and stuffs his phone into his pocket, making his way to the lounge. Truly, it didn’t matter what Shiro asked of him, he would aimlessly comply. If it meant being around the one person that made him feel safe, Keith would do the most mundane tasks.

He turns the corner into the lounge and observes his surroundings a bit too late. He’s already five steps into the room and Hunk is placed firmly behind him, blocking the exit. He sees Shiro and Pidge sitting down on the couch with a gap in-between them clearly meant for Keith. He turns his head in search of the Blue Paladin leaning indifferently against a wall.

“Have a seat, Keith.” Shiro pats the spot next to him with a solemn smile.

Keith does, in fact, not have a seat.

“You bastard .” Keith growls, launching at Lance. He grabs him by his collar and pushes him against the wall before anyone can stop him. “You told them?”

“I had to! I wasn’t sure what else to do!” Lance narrows his eyes back, unsure of the unjust anger the teen was sprouting.

“You promised, Lance. You can’t just break a promise like that.” Keith seethes, the words boiling in his stomach, overflowing out his mouth.

“Like how you promised Shiro you wouldn’t do it again? Hypocrite .” Lance spits back, skillfully matching Keith’s aggression even if it wasn’t the best idea.

“Shut up!” Keith slams him against the wall again, earning a pained grunt in return. “Not only did you tell Shiro, the one person I asked you not to tell, but you told the whole ass team ?”

“That’s enough, Keith.” Shiro stands up, cautiously making his way closer to Keith but not daring to close the distance until he was sure it wouldn’t set him off.

“They deserved to know. I don’t care what I promised.” Lance grits through his teeth, reaching his hands up to grab at Keith’s wrists and ground himself.

“You lied to me, asshole.” Keith whispers softly to the brunette but with just as much malice as before.

“And I’d do it again.” Lance whispers back.

“Fuck you.” Keith pushes him against the wall once more before letting him go, Hunk at his side to make sure he was Ok.

“We just wanna talk, Keith.” Shiro assures him, watching Keith take a deep breath before begrudgingly making his way over to the couch and finding a seat.

“I don’t want him here.” Keith glares at the Cuban boy that was now being led by Hunk to the other side of the couch.

“Lance stays.” Shiro says firmly, taking his spot next to Keith while Pidge scoots over for Lance and Hunk.

“Fuck you, too.” Keith bites back.

“Keith, please-”

“Did you tell them about…my stuff? When I was younger?” He interrupts Shiro but the word ‘younger’ feels raw on his tongue. Younger? Was he really all that younger two years ago?

“...I did.” Shiro bites his lip as he answers truthfully.

“You had no right to do that, Shiro.” Keith glares angrily as the older man, feeling the resentment soak his words.

“I know that, Keith, but-”

“But what? But we’re a team? Fuck that! Team or not, that was personal . That was not your secret to tell. Had it ever occurred to you that I hadn’t told them because I wasn’t ready to?” Keith clenches his hands into fists.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready either?!” Shiro feels himself dip into the unjust anger and he doesn’t try to fight it. “Maybe I didn’t want to tell them just as much as you, but I had to. I don’t know how to handle this, Keith- I can’t handle this; at least, not by myself again. Yes, I told them. Yes, it wasn’t for me to say, but it was my only choice.”

Keith bites back the words crawling up his throat for the sake of sanity. He wants so badly to be angry with Shiro, but he can’t find the animosity buried deep within. He wants to hate him and hate this stupid team, but if he fell the way his heart breaks then he’d be welcomed into warm arms and forgiving murmurs.

“And-” Shiro takes a deep breath, calming himself down. “And if keeping you safe means breaking your trust, then I’d do it a hundred times over.”

“Ok.” Keith mutters out softly, solemnly. He lifts his head and catches Shiro’s gaze, looking a few inches below to avoid the intensity of it all.

“Ok.” Shiro nods, swallowing the lump in his throat so he can push more questions into the air.

“What do you want me to say?” Keith maintains his quiet and timid expression.

“When was the last time you did it?” 

“You know.”

“Was it bad this time?”

“No-”

“Yes.”

Keith glares at Lance’s interjection, visibly displeased by his involvement. He wants to argue with Lance. He wants to scream and hit him until he feels all the pain that Keith feels. Truthfully, he just wanted someone else to understand what he was feeling. He didn’t really hate Lance all that much, but he had given him plenty of reasons to.

To be fair, it had been bad this time; not nearly as bad as it once was, but it wasn’t exactly shallow either. 

“Didn’t need stitches, but there was a lot of blood.” Lance clarifies.

“Narc.” Keith grumbles out, earning a glare from Lance and Shiro both.

“Why’d you do it?” Hunk’s soft and feeble words filled the air.

Upsetting Lance? Whatever. Upsetting Pidge? Embarrassing. Upsetting Shiro? Earth-shattering.

Upsetting Hunk? Words could not describe how it made him feel.

Hunk was such a pure and kind soul that he couldn’t help but contaminate others with his joyful gleam. Keith felt genuine disappointment and shame in himself because he had broken that cuddly exterior to reveal something sensitive and raw. He was responsible for Hunk’s involvement in this trainwreck and he never wanted to hold something so heavy in his hands again.

“I don’t know.” Keith sighed and hunched over his knees, placing his hands around his face and pushing his hair to the side so he could stare deeply at the floor. “I just- I had to, ya know. I had to feel something else, and this was the only thing that worked.”

“Keith, you don’t have to, and you know this.” Shiro gently reminds him, placing a hand on his shoulder and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“You don’t understand, Shiro. I really did. ” Keith sits back up, nudging Shiro’s hand off him so he can look him in the eyes. “The urge was so strong, it was consuming me. I didn’t have control over my own thoughts anymore. It gets so exhausting fighting something like that all the time and sometimes I don’t wanna fight anymore. It’s- It’s like I haven’t had water in a week and suddenly there’s this giant ocean in front of me and although I know the saltwater will only make things worse, I don’t care . I don’t care and I’d do anything for a moment of relief.”

“Addiction.” Pidge clears the air. “You’re describing an addiction.”

“I guess?” Keith grumbles back against the cushions, laying his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t feel like an addict.”

“You never do, they’re funny like that. You get this false sense of autonomy where logically you know you don’t need this but physically your body has already created room for it.” Pidge clarifies further.

“But, I almost went two years without doing it. How come it still feels so strong?” Keith shakes his head.

“Because your body knows it’ll help. It gets the job done and is easily accessible. Once you started you permanently altered your brain chemistry. Your brain defaults to this coping mechanism no matter what because it’s reliable . That’s why it’s so important to catch early on.” The words from the Green Paladin don’t seem to soothe the other.

“If my brain is stuck like this, then what’s the point in trying to fix it?” Keith questions despairingly, lifting his head to lock eyes with the younger.

“We’re not trying to fix you, Keith. You’re not broken, you just need a little help.” Lance offers his pinch of sentiment before the words run dry.

“What if-” Keith hesitates before following through. “What if I don’t deserve it?”

“You do.” Hunk is quick to debate firmly.

“You don’t know that.” Keith shakes his head again. “You don’t know what I’ve done or if I truly deserve it.”

“Would Pidge deserve help if the roles were reversed?” Lance questions randomly.

“Of course, but-”

“What about Hunk?”

“Yes, but-”

“And Shiro?”

“Absolutely, but-”

“And me?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then so you do. You don’t get to say you don’t because that means there’s a threshold based on experiences and choices and personality that dictate who does and does not deserve love and acceptance, and I know that’s not something you believe in.” Lance words flawlessly.

“Fuck.” Keith shudders, dropping his head again and letting it fall into his hands. He hates everything about this moment, and at the same time he never wants to leave it. “I’m so sorry, Shiro. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, bud. I know.” Shiro shifts over until he’s flush against Keith, pulling him into a hug and holding him tightly against his chest; Keith doesn’t seem to protest.

“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, Shiro. You have to believe me. I promised -” Keith feels a sob threaten his throat, so he stops talking all together, burying his face deeper into the Black Paladin’s shirt and taking deep breaths.

“Hey, it’s Ok, Keith. We’ll get through this one. We always do.” Shiro whispers into his hair, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“You’re not alone. We’re right here.” Pidge adds to the comfort.

“All of us.” Hunk joins in.

“We promise .” Lance finishes.

He promises.

And this time, Keith believes him.

Chapter Text

When he was 11, Keith started to get headaches. They weren’t frequent or intense enough for him to think much of it (not that the foster families he was with would even care). But those headaches slowly developed into migraines, and then nausea, and then dizzy spells, and eventual complete loss of consciousness. 

By the time he was 12, Keith was passing out every other day–bruising and scratching up his arms and legs from falling into countless corners and curbs. He was quickly removed from home after home under suspected abuse and each placement angered him more than the last. Not only was his case worker ignoring his attempts to explain the injuries, but the sudden concern for his well-being was frustrating. Now they were worried about abuse? Why? Because there was proof ? Where were they when he was forced under the freezing water of a screaming showerhead? Or when he was locked in a suffocating closet for 2 days? Or when his belongings were shredded in front of his teary eyes and screaming lungs? 

They hadn’t listened to him then and they weren’t listening to him now.

And then he got placed with the Shirogane’s.

They immediately accepted him into their makeshift family with gentle patience and soothing words. They addressed his medical concerns, ensured his nutritional needs were met, gifted him the emotional stability he lacked, and showed him things he didn’t know he needed in his life.

They even went out of their way to take him to their family doctor despite it not being covered under the agency’s insurance. He was quickly diagnosed with hypotension–low blood pressure. They took his needs very seriously and the generosity was almost chilling. Above all else, they ensured he was present for the entire journey. They sat him down, explained each step and what it meant for him as an individual as well as them as a family.

A family .

They were adopting him.

He had never felt like he was part of a family before. He very quickly began to understand. Family means you buy all the different juice box flavors because you aren’t sure which one they’ll like. Family means stealing birthday gifts from your brother and then attempting to tattle when he steals it back. Family means you are sandwiched in the middle of their bed, surrounded by the people who loved you before you existed. Family was everything to Keith and it was better than anything he could have imagined.

And then it was swept from underneath him.

Just like everything else.

When he was 15 and Shiro was 20, their parents were ripped away by a drunk driver and windy roads. The courtroom was dreadfully nostalgic, swallowing him up in stiff suits and stale words as he drowned out the world around him. Although, he’d gladly go back day after day just to hear the judge grant full guardianship to Shiro. 

Still, Keith was angry. He was robbed of the one thing he ever wanted in life after only experiencing it for three years ; it wasn’t fair. Why would the world love him so dearly just to push his head back underwater? Why did happiness dangle shiny beads of tranquility in front of his face but pull it away any time he got close? Why did the Universe hate him so much?

Shiro made things better. 

He took complete responsibility for Keith’s needs, taking the parental and older brother role very seriously. He talked to his teachers, scheduled his appointments, ordered his meds, and stocked up on all his favorite juices. 

Two years later Keith likes to think he can do all that stuff by himself. He’s about to enter senior year and he’s already emailed his teachers, scheduled a fall physical, and picked up his meds from the pharmacy. It felt refreshing to finally be in control of something.

But then the world would do something to remind him: he had never truly been in control.

“Shiro totally won that!” Lance happily announces, kicking his feet in the pool water from the edge.

“That’s because he cheated .” Matt narrows his eyes at the victor, grabbing Shiro’s towel and throwing it at his face.

“What? How?” Shiro chuckles, promptly catching the towel and drying himself off.

“You’re the tallest. You have a vertical advantage here.” Adam agrees, climbing out of the pool last.

“ Right , Ok,” Shiro smirks sarcastically, handing his boyfriend a towel.

“Alright!” Lance claps his hands together and stands up, turning to face the three teens sitting in lawn chairs, “Our turn!”

“Our turn?” Pidge repeats.

“Our turn! Let’s see who’s the fastest swimmer! C’mon!” Lance waves them over to the short side of the pool as he patiently waits.

“Yeah, I’ll pass.” Keith ignores, continuing to read his book.

“ C’mon .” Lance whines, “Unless you guys are chickens?” Lance smirks, poorly mimicking the sound of the barn animal.

“Ooh! We should play chicken!” Hunk perks up at the mention of the pool game.

“How about this: we have a cannonball contest and the winner decides what we do next. If Pidge or Keith win, I’ll leave you to your shade of shame over there. If Hunk wins, we’ll play chicken. If I win, we race!” Lance offers gleefully.

“I guess so.”

“Sure!”

“Why not.”

When Keith stands up he feels a familiar spike in his lungs and a buzz in his limbs. The corner of his vision is flooded with small black dots and his body sways to the heartbeat thumping in his ears. It ends just as quickly as it begins and he’s back to normal, shaking off the feeling. He just needed to grab something after this stupid contest and then he’d be alright.

The four teens lined up alongside each other, preparing to jump in one after another. Shiro, Adam, and Matt watched intently from the sidelines (Matt being the only serious observer).

Lance jumped first, confidently and impressively creating an explosion in the water that splashes the three other kids behind him. Hunk follows suit and manages to create a wave of water that not only touches Pidge and Keith, but the three adults as well. There’s a groan from the once-dry judges and some giggles from the next contestants. Pidge’s splash is surprisingly larger than expected (something about maximum surface area and momentum or whatever), with Keith finishing the line. His jump is nothing impressive, mundane at best, but he was aiming for haste, not victory.

“Who won!? Was it me? Did I win?” Lance gasps the moment his mouth is above the surface, two other heads popping up beside him and facing the adults.

“You need to take into consideration the splash-to-body mass ratio for this to truly be accurate,” Pidge adds, pulling a giggle out of Matt.

“Nah, Hunk definitely won that.” Matt ignores the suggestion with a collective nod from his other two critics.s

“‘ Hunk definitely won that’ .” Lance mocks with an angry grumble as he pulls himself out of the pool with Hunk, “We can play chicken or whatever.”

A snarky comment dies on Pidge’s tongue and is replaced by a confused shift towards the pool. The dark circle where Keith had jumped had not moved from its initial appearance. Sure, Keith was an experienced and avid swimmer, often submerging himself to muffle the outside world, but something about this felt different– wrong .

“Keith?” Pidge calls from the side of the pool, praying the noise reaches through the motionless water. There is no response other than eerie silence and static movement.

“ Keith? ” Pidge’s second attempt is just as damning as the first.

“What-” Matt furrows his brows at the persistence but can’t finish his thought before Shiro is pushes past him and jumps into the pool, nullifying any previous attempts to be dry.

“10/10. Solid splashage.” Lance judges with a chuckle, earning an amused smile from everyone except Pidge, who seems to be more unnerved by this whole situation than the others.

Shiro swiftly swims underwater towards his brother while everyone patiently waits, Pidge beginning to lightly shiver in fear. They all wait for a drenched Shiro to pop back up with a very annoyed Keith in his arms.

This is not the case.

Shiro breaches the water with a gasping breath, holding Keith beside him. Keith’s eyes are peacefully shut with water dripping down his nose and black hair matte against his forehead; his head lolls forward limply.

“Adam! Call 9-1-1!” Shiro calls, swimming himself and Keith to the side of the pool.

Matt and Lance run to the edge and help Shiro hoist Keith’s limp body out of the water and onto the concrete. Lance stumbles back to be in the comfort of his friends while the adults take control. Adam is speaking faintly on the phone and Matt is rolling Keith onto his back while Shiro exits the pool.

“He’s not breathing, Shiro!” Matt places his palm in front of Keith’s nose and feels nothing other than the water dripping against his hand.

“ Fuck .” Shiro curses, kneeling beside his brother to assess for himself.

He tilts Keith’s chin back to clear his airways while he places his ear up to Keith’s chest, listening closely. He hears a fluttering heartbeat against the cold skin but doesn’t feel an inch of movement from his lungs. There is a faint gurgle somewhere beneath but it’s nothing promising.

He pulls back and clasps his fingers together, resting them against Keith’s chest and pushing down in persistent pulses. He keeps a rhythmic tempo, attempting to ignore the way Keith’s pliant body willingly accepts the movement, moving along with it.

“What happened?” Adam shouts, pulling the phone to his shoulder and waiting for an answer.

“I’m not sure! I think he might have passed out in the water or something, but now there’s water in his damn lungs!” Shiro anxiously answers.

“ Pass out ? Why-” Hunk’s gentle confusion comes through.

“Later, Hunk.” Shiro grits through his teeth, his words coming out a bit harsher than intended.

He really regrets winning that competition with Adam and Matt because he truly gave it his all. His arms are quickly turning to mush and his body is screaming at him with each compression. He locks his elbows and uses the force of his own weight rather than the strength in his arms, but it only relieves the discomfort for just a moment.

“Ambulance will be here in 5 minutes!” Adam calls, stuffing his phone in his pocket and jogging over to the group.

“I need you to take over, Matt.” Shiro gasps for air.

Matt instantly nudges Shiro out of the way so he can replace his hands with his own, copying the same rhythm. Shiro stands up and steps away, running his fingers through his hair and watching the scene unfold with staggering breaths. Adam pulls him close and attempts to rub soothing circles against his back.

Crack .

The soft sound resonates throughout the air, subtle and barely noticeable had it not been for the source: Keith . Matt slows his compressions to a stop and glances over to Shiro for direction, melting into uncertainty and concern.

“Just keep going, Matt! It’ll be Ok.” Shiro encourages him and Matt instantly resumes.

“Did he just…?” Hunk starts but is interrupted by the churn in his stomach that has him hurling into the grass. Lance walks over to his friend and gently soothes him, urging him to rest against the house wall once he’s done.

It’s not long before Keith releases a gurgling breath and his fingers begin to twitch. They watch his body start to jerk and his eyes pinch as staggering gasps for air flood his body.

“Get him on his side!” Shiro shouts, helping Matt pull Keith into a more comfortable position.

He coughs up all the chlorine-rich water that had filled his lungs, his body heaving and gagging with each attempt. It is wave after wave of crackling coughs, dry heaves, shivering limbs, and eventual expulsions of water from his lips. It doesn’t stop until all the water has left his lungs alongside some additional bile from his stomach.

They roll him onto his back once they’re sure he’s calmed down and let the shock slowly leave his system. He releases quivering breaths as his body shakes with a pulsating pain. Shiro knows he should give Keith a moment to recover, but he can’t stop himself from launching towards his brother.

“Thank God,” Shiro whispers, pulling Keith up by his shoulders until he’s flush against his chest. He cradles the back of his head and wraps his other arm around his back, rocking them back and forth until the paramedics arrive.

A faint ringing dying in his ears. 

Monotonous beeping somewhere in the background.

Whirling mechanical whine from above.

Hushed voices brush against his skin.

Keith can’t focus on any one thing but he knows something’s there. He wills himself to open his eyes but can only manage a crack before they fall back against his cheeks. He tries to shift his body towards the side but his muscles are far too sore.

“...-eith?...us?” A voice slowly pushes itself to the front.

He can’t tell who it belongs to or where they are, but he feels safe. His chest feels fuzzy and his head feels light, so he tries once more to open his eyes. He pries them open and lets his vision blur bright white dots and hazy lines of color that bleed around the edges of his eyes. He rolls his head over and slowly registers the outline of two people beside him.

“Hey, buddy.”

Shiro. 

It’s Shiro. He gives him a gentle smile and soft eyes. One hand is resting on Adam’s arm and the other is giving reassuring squeezes to Keith’s fingers.

“Ow.” Keith groans, feeling the last waves of hazy confusion leave his brain.

“Yeah.” Shiro chuckles but it sounds too solemn to be humorous. He wipes away any tears gathering in his eyes and saves them for later. “Are you in any pain?”

“Mmm.” Keith hums, acknowledging the question but not answering it. He rests his eyes and lets his head fall back against a pillow and tries to ignore the discomfort slowly seeping through his chest. If he can focus on the tranquility from Shiro’s voice just a moment longer then perhaps he won’t have to feel anything at all.

“You scared the hell out of us, kid,” Adam interjects.

“Shiro, your boyfriend just said a curse word.” Keith opens his eyes and points a finger at the other man.

“You shoulda seen it, Keith. He said ‘fuck’ and ‘damn’ while you were out.” Adam reveals with a warming chuckle. Shiro shoots him a glare but he is far from intimidating.

“ Gasp .” Keith remarks dramatically before narrowing his eyes at Shiro, “Can you say it again now that I’m awake?”

“No.” Shiro rolls his eyes.

Keith lets himself laugh but it only lasts a few seconds before he’s grabbing his chest, wincing at the sharp pain he feels. Shiro squeezes his hand, almost as if Keith may drift away if he were to let go.

“You gotta be careful. You’ve got a broken rib.” Shiro explains.

“Makes sense.” Keith hisses with a nod, settling down against the sheets. “S’alright, I’ve got 23 more.”

“Sure,” Shiro responds blankly, rubbing his thumb over his brother’s knuckles. Keith realizes Shiro doesn’t have it in him to joke around anymore, so he finally shifts the conversation to something more heavy.

“What happened?” He asks softly, as if the words were too fragile to be completely unwrapped.

“You passed out in the pool. You got a lot of water in your lungs.” Adam answers for his boyfriend. “You drowned , Keith.”

“Oh.” Keith bites his lip anxiously, unsure of his own feelings. “And the others?”

“We had Matt take them to McDonald’s until you woke up. Figured you wouldn’t want an audience when you woke up.” Adam smiles at the younger.

“Appreciate that.” Keith nods before shifting his eyes to something more playful, unable to help himself. “So…did I win?”

“No, Keith. You did not.” Shiro lets out another one of his sad chuckles.

Keith hates himself for persisting with the lighthearted approach, but he hates the idea of taking this seriously even more. He lets the room be blanketed in silence while thousands of words balance on his tongue; he wants to push them down. The sterile smell of hospital rooms always unsettled Keith, but even through the discomfort, he found a need to push further.

“Do they know?” Keith breaks the silence, receiving a subtle nod from Adam.

“I told them.” Shiro gently confirms.

“Figured as much. Probably should’ve told them sooner, woulda been safer that way. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it would come to this .” Keith sighs, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“None of us did.” Shiro nods, maintaining his grip on his brother’s hand.

“Are you mad?” Keith whispers, looking into Shiro’s eyes to see if he can find the answer before he produces something artificial.

“No, God no, Keith.” Shiro inches closer to his brother, now taking both hands around Keith’s. “I’m just concerned.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Keith looks away in guilt.

“Are you taking your meds?”

“Yes.”

“Are you eating?”

“Yes.”

“Are you drinking water? Juice?”

“Yes.”

“Are you listening to your body?”

“For God’s sake, Shiro, yes !” Keith snaps, glaring at the man beside him before the glossy stare washes away his anger and replaces itself with more guilt. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m just…angry.”

“Talk to me.” Shiro pleads, letting the anguish seep through his words.

“I just…I feel like I’ve lost myself. I don’t have control over my body anymore and it’s terrifying. I don’t want to have to rely on you guys for everything.” Keith expresses, willing himself to look at the two and not hide himself away like he wants.

“You won’t have to. There are going to be good and bad days, Keith. That’s how life works.” Adam lays a gentle hand on his leg, giving him a loving smile beside his boyfriend.

“I guess. I miss when things were simpler. I miss not taking all these stupid meds that don’t even work. I miss walking up the stairs without getting dizzy. I miss going to the store with Mom- and…” His voice begins to crack and suddenly he can’t bear to look at the other two anymore. He bows his head in shame and lets his hair fall past his eyes with a subtle shake. “I just miss Mom and Dad.”

He lets a few silent tears fall onto his blankets before Shiro pulls him into a hug, holding his head against his chest and threading his fingers through his hair with gentle murmurs of comfort.

“I know. I miss them too.” Shiro whispers to him.

“I just keep losing everything good that I have, Shiro. I lost Mom and Dad, I lost my independence, I lost control over my body. I just keep losing things.” Keith shudders, letting a quiet sob take over his body.

“Then I’ll help you find what I can,” Shiro assures, feeling the tears stain his shirt.

“You can’t.” Keith insists with a painful cry muffled by the fabric.

“Then I will be with you until the good things come back. Or until something else can take its place.” Shiro speaks, letting his own tears finally fill his eyes and fall down his face.

“Promise me you’ll stay.”

“Always.”

Chapter Text

“I hate this stupid planet,” Keith complains as he mindlessly slices through stray vines and wayward vegetation.

He was one of the most combative, determined, resilient warriors defending the universe and here he was: reduced to nothing other than a glorified landscaper for an otherwise dying planet. Sure, he’ll be able to better traverse the terrain, but he couldn’t deny the boredom slowly sinking in. He’d give anything to be ambushed by some Galra soldier just so he could thrust his sword into something other than these compliant plants.

The world must’ve been listening as the next thing he knows he’s sent flying against the decaying dirt with a deafening explosion behind him. He’s a considerable distance away, so he’s able to walk away relatively unscathed (other than a bruised knee and ringing in his ears), but this doesn’t prevent the deep panic he feels bubbling in his chest.

He stumbles to his feet and turns around, watching a once stable structure come crumbling down. The dust from the wreckage sweeps over his makeshift path in the forest before he can act, irritating his lungs with arid particles. He coughs through the dust and encases his helmet completely over his face, using his suit thrusters to propel himself toward the rubble.

“Shiro? Allura? Anyone? Come in!” Keith cups his hands and shouts; there’s no response.

He cautiously shifts through the disaster as he waits for the dust cloud to settle. There are awry pieces of concrete and piles of metal rebars sticking out from the ground. He isn’t quite sure what he’s looking for, but the air quickly clears to show him.

“ Hunk …” Keith freezes before sprinting over to the Yellow Paladin, covered in multiple blocks of cement that must’ve equaled several tons in weight. Sure, their suits were durable, but they weren’t impenetrable.

“Hunk?! Can you hear me?!” Keith yells, kneeling down beside his friend and removing his helmet. He places two fingers against Hunk’s pulse point; he feels nothing.

“Oh, God. No no no no-” The words spill from his lips uncontrollably. He grips the debris resting on Hunk’s chest and attempts to pull it off, but it just won’t budge. He utilizes his thrusters and all his might, but it’s still not enough.

“Oh my God…Oh my God, Pidge?! Pidge!!” Keith calls out; surely the Green Paladin would know what to do. 

He stands up and searches the area, very quickly noticing the array of bodies scattered across the wreckage. His stomach drops to the floor as he drags his legs over to Lance–placed similarly to Hunk.

“Lance…” Keith shakes his teammate’s shoulders vigorously, but it does nothing other than lolling Lance’s head back and forth. “Lance, please. Wake up, man.”

He lets go of the lifeless body and turns to his side, startled by a new horrific sight. He finds Pidge impaled on a lone rebar with the color red painting the ground.

“Pidge? Please.” His voice cracks as he crawls over to his friend and hovers his hands over the injury, too afraid to touch.

He staggers up and spins in a circle, searching for the one individual who would grant him some form of comfort and composure. He very quickly finds a glistening black metal contrasted against the familiar off-white from their suits.

He only makes it a few steps before something grabs his ankle and pulls him to the ground. He looks down at his leg to see a bloody hand slowly releasing its grip. His eyes trail up the connecting arm to find a disheveled Allura gasping for air.

“Keith…” She chokes on her words but still manages to convey her message. “Why didn’t you…save us?”

“I-I…Allura…” Keith stutters painfully, flooded by shame and guilt. He can do nothing other than watch Allura take her last breath.

He blinks.

When he opens his eyes he’s back on Earth, running through the desert he once lived in. If he had half a mind to look back he would realize nothing was chasing him, but the movement in his legs was relentless and undeterred; he lets them carry him until his lungs burn and muscles ache, until he’s inches from the edge of a cliff and his body forces him to a stop before he can stumble over. He peers over the edge and feels his legs go weak, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from the seemingly endless drop below.

‘Do it.’

A voice rings in his ears. He whips his head around but finds nothing other than the vast desolate land. How could he fight something he couldn’t see? Something that didn’t even exist?

‘You’re useless anyway. Worthless, even.’

“Shut up.” He growls, continuing his futile search for the disembodied voice.

‘No one wanted you back then and no one wants you now. Pathetic.’

“I said, shut up !” He shouts, closing his eyes and willing the voice away.

‘Jump, coward. You’ll feel so much better. The world will be so much better.’

“Stop it!” Keith screams at the top of his lungs, clenching his fists. 

‘C’mon, Keith. You know you want to. You know the only thing you truly deserve is death.’

“STOP!” Keith screams, jolting into an upright position and gripping the sheets beneath him. He loosens his hold and gently pets the soft blankets under his hands, grounding himself to the present.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real .” Keith repeats the mantra in a hushed tone, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself. Nightmares were nothing new to him, but this was the third night in a row where he had woken up in pure terror.

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed and checks the time: 5 AM. He didn’t need to be up for another 2 hours. Realistically, he should use these next couple hours for rest–whether that be sleep or just general peace–but the torment in his heart was difficult to ignore.

So, instead, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the training area.

Time without sleep: 17 hours

Clean sheets and a wrinkled pillow have never seemed so intimidating before. Yet, here Keith was, glaring at his bed with such ferocity that one may call it damning. For the past 30 minutes, his eyes had been burning holes into the fabric, hoping it would suddenly catch ablaze.

“Fuck this,” Keith grumbles before turning on his heel and exiting his room.

He avoids the training room like the plague; mainly out of the fear he’ll become too reliant upon it, partially due to the fact that he’s already surpassed Shiro’s scores by a landslide and he doesn’t want to raise any concerns. He settles on wandering the expansive castle halls, tracing his fingers along the walls. He starts with the left wall, feeling the smooth plaster brush his skin until he reaches a cycle between the same four halls, then switching over to the right wall and repeating the pattern.

Somehow he stumbles upon the observation deck. He traces the perimeter of the room, where the glass meets endless space, and follows his reflection in the window until he is in the center. He sits down and leans back on his hands, mapping out the countless lights and flickering rays.

The galaxy had always been something of comfort to him, and he couldn’t deny that these stars were just as stunning and luminescent. Although they weren’t familiar, they weren’t his stars and therefore didn’t ignite his skin with the same tranquility he once felt.

“Breathtaking, is it not?” A voice approaches him. Keith tilts his head back to see Coran slowly making his way up the ramp until he’s standing beside the Red Paladin. His gaze never adverts from the endless expanse and Keith can’t blame him.

“Yeah, I guess.” Keith sighs with no real malice or hatred, just indifference as a means of avoidance.

“You don’t think so?” Coran looks down at him with bewilderment.

“No, I do. It’s just…I don’t know any of these constellations.” Keith pushes the words out, giving sanity a chance for once.

“Constellations?” Coran tilts his head.

“It’s this thing on Earth where we look at patterns of stars that look like something and then name them after what they look like,” Keith explains in the simplest terms.

“Ooh! That sounds fun! We should play!” Coran brightens at the explanation, pulling up an in-depth map of the galaxy. 

“It’s not-” Keith sighs, quickly giving in, “Sure.”

“Here!” Coran points to a group of stars that resemble something of a goblin. “This reminds me of the legendary slayers on the planet Turarf!”

“Hmm, we should name it Slarf.” Keith promptly settles.

“Slarf?” Coran questions.

“Yeah, a mix of ‘slayer’ and ‘Turarf’: Slarf,” Keith explains with a smile.

“Splendid!” Coran gleefully perks, sifting through the solar system until he lands upon another section he can play connect-the-dots with. “This closely resembles a popular Altean dish that would be consumed between first and second meal!”

“Like, brunch?” Keith scoffs at the description.

“Brunch…I like that as well!” Coran politely claps at Keith’s choice, ignoring the way the Red Paladin facepalms at his response.

“Got any more?” Keith finds himself starting to enjoy this nonsensical game.

“Of course!” Coran zooms out across several clusters until he’s satisfied with the picture. “An Altean goddess worshiped by many. She represented power, divine intervention, and was by far the most popular of the deities.”

“Sounds like a Jessica to me.” Keith chuckles and Coran laughs along despite not understanding its meaning.

“Jessica it is.” Coran agrees before closing the program. “As fun as this is, I must go back to my room. We should play ‘constellation’ again, Number 4!”

“Sure, Coran.” Keith snickers, waving the older man goodbye as he walks down and out of the room.

Keith spends the rest of the night creating his own pictures and fun from stars he didn’t know existed, holding back his laughter from the echoey room. He starts to feel a familiar warmth fill his heart, one that he had only ever felt when he was lucky enough to view Andromeda and Gemini in the night sky; it felt nice, it felt like home.

If you were to ask Coran a day prior about Altean stars, he would depict the complex and beautiful story behind his home constellations. He would outline every 22 main sequences from Altea, what powers they held, and how each of them bonded with civilization. If you were to ask him the same question now, he would point out the same shapes but draw silly impressions influenced by Earthly meals and unfamiliar terms.

Truth be told, Coran would gladly rewrite the entire Altean astrological history in the eyes of a certain Red Paladin if it meant Keith would hold the same peace and contentment that Coran felt each night he drifted off. It wasn’t much, but it was love.

Time without sleep: 49 hours

Surprisingly enough, a majority of the castle can be explored in just a couple nights, which leaves Keith bored beyond comprehension and exhausted all over again. There are only so many corners he can turn, stairs he can climb, and rooms he can roam. He settles on something familiar and heads to the kitchen for a snack.

The moment he enters the doorway he's met with a certain Black Paladin, leaning against the counter and drinking a cup of water. Keith freezes. He needs Shiro to lead this conversation so he can gauge how he needs to play it out.

“Mornin’.” Shiro smiles while finishing the rest of his water.

“Mhmm.” Keith hums absentmindedly, registering the nonchalance rather than the message itself.

“What're you doing up so early?” Shiro questions, placing his glass into a drawer meant to automate the cleaning process.

“Huh?” Keith furrows his brows.

Early? What time was it? Had he really been walking that long?

“Yeah, you don't have to get up for another hour, Keith.” Shiro chuckles, returning to his comfort against the counter. Keith takes his time to respond, busying himself by reaching into a cabinet and searching for anything resembling food.

“Right, yeah. Just guess I'm an early bird. What about you?” Keith expertly dodges the question, settling on something that looks like crackers and pulling them into a bowl.

“I always try to get some light training in before breakfast,” Shiro answers, explaining his casual clothes and small towel draped over his shoulder.

“Makes sense.” Keith nods, putting the rest of the crackers away and beelining for the door, intending to place himself far, far away from the situation.

“Have you been sleeping alright?” Shiro’s voice stops him in his tracks, compelling him to turn around and face the older man.

“Yeah, why?” Keith pops a cracker into his mouth and anxiously chews away.

“C’mon, Keith.” Shiro gives an unamused smile and crosses his arms. Keith knew better than to lie to Shiro (because it never fucking worked), but it never hurt to try. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Shiro. Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Keith shrugs before taking a handful of food. Shiro silently watches Keith stress eat his words away, relaxing his arms at his sides and softening his gaze.

“Are you having nightmares again?” Shiro whispers. He knew no one was around to hear, but the subject was still sensitive for Keith and he wouldn’t dare set off the firecracker that was Keith due to carelessness.

Keith averts his gaze and maintains his mission of finishing his bowl as quickly as possible, relying on a full mouth to discourage distasteful answers. His silence is sufficient enough for understanding.

“Listen, you know I won’t make you talk about anything until you’re ready, but you can’t run away from this, Keith. You need to talk to someone eventually.” Shiro makes his way towards the Red Paladin, standing parallel to his shoulders and placing a hand on his shoulder. “At least do something fun–something other than aimlessly wandering the halls the whole night.”

He leaves Keith with an empty bowl and a puzzled mind. Keith wants to be disturbed by the abundance of knowledge Shiro seems to gather, but the man has always been extremely observant and particularly patient. All he can do is wash down his food with some water and wait in his room until the alarm sounds for breakfast. It’s not a very eventful hour, but it’s enough for him to realize how tired he is.

Time without sleep: 54 hours

“This exercise will require you to look out for one another, even if you’ve been attacked. You must learn to persevere and trust.” Allura announces before stepping away and initiating the simulation.

All 5 paladins took to a circle formation similar to the one they performed in their first few days of training but with a considerable increase in confidence. Despite the fortitude, Keith noticed his movements melting into something more sluggish and uncoordinated. The longer the trial went on the harder he found it to keep up. His body started to move in slow motion and each blaster shot was substantially quicker than the last. He made it about 30 seconds before he was met face-to-face with a gladiator no more than 10 feet away, shooting him at point-blank. He doesn’t have enough time to react (well, he definitely did, but his body refused to act despite his mind screaming at him to move). By the time he registered what was happening, it was too late.

A punch of electricity strikes his body as he falls to the floor with a yelp. It’s not necessarily painful as much as it is uncomfortable (it’s definitely not pleasurable, that’s for sure). It paralyzes his limbs for half a second before returning control. He sobers up and looks to see the bot firing up another shot, this time aimed at a certain Blue Paladin behind him. He attempts to throw his sword toward the threat, but by the time it strikes, there is already a Cuban boy falling to the ground with a shout.

“What the hell , Keith!” Lance whips his head around to glare at the Red Paladin.

“Back off, Lance.” Keith rolls his eyes, crawling over to pick up his bayard and sitting on his knees while he dusts it off.

“End training simulation!” Allura shouts, marching her way down to the group. “You will need some great improvement in terms of trust and endurance, Paladins.”

“No! No, no, that was all Keith! We were doing just fine until he screwed it up!” Lance scrambled to his feet and pointed to the other.

“ Shut up , McClain.” Keith snaps back, unsure of why Lance’s accusation irked him so deeply. To be fair, it was his fault and Lance was right.

“You need to pay better attention.” Lance takes a step towards the boy still on the floor.

“That’s enough.” Shiro tries to intervene but his words fall on deaf ears.

“And you need to shut the hell up, but you can never seem to do that, can you? The only thing you contribute to this team is your endless bitching, Lance!” Keith finally turns his head and stares down the taller. For a moment he sees something resembling hurt flash across Lance’s eyes and he feels a sense of guilt flood his body, but the pain is quickly replaced by anger and Keith doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.

“Oh yeah? Well, the only thing you contribute is your pissy attitude! It’s no wonder no one’s ever wanted you around.” Lance scoffs with crossed arms.

“That’s it!” Keith growls, pushing off the ground with full intentions to charge Lance and beat him to a pulp.

Keith can’t follow through with his threat despite how badly he wants to. The moment he’s on his feet he feels the room drain of all sounds and flood begin to spin. There are muffled voices shouting, likely encouraging the both of them to calm down, but Keith can’t hear them. He stumbles back until a hand grabs his shoulder and steadies him. All anger has evaporated from his body and been replaced by fear of the sudden loss of control. He glances up to see Hunk’s gentle eyes studying him.

He looks around to see the others holding similar expressions; even Lance, whose own anger has been shifted to concern–Keith hates it. He hates the kindness in his eyes and the silence bouncing off the walls. Shiro cautiously walks up to him and holds a hand out to settle him.

“Keith?” Shiro gently starts.

“Don’t touch me!” Keith snaps, pushing Shiro and Hunk away from him so he can grab his bayard still on the floor. “I’m fine.”

“Keith, I suggest you take the rest of the day as a time for recovery. We can come back to this exercise tomorrow.” Allura commands rather than recommends.

“Whatever.” Keith huffs, storming off to his room. He doesn’t want to spend a second longer in his room than he has to, but he doesn’t really want to be anywhere else, either.

Time without sleep: 66 hours

Laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling–Keith had discovered–did absolutely nothing to cure an insatiable rage nor irritating exhaustion. He holed himself up in this room for the past 12 hours, pouting through lunch and dinner and spending the last 30 minutes amping himself up to leave and grab a snack. Alas, the risk of running into someone else was far more daunting than the empty pain in his stomach.

He turns his head to the side and starts to stare at his connecting bathroom door instead. Spoiler: it is not more entertaining than the ceiling.

Keith sighs and shuts his eyes, forcing himself to calm his thoughts. The empty whine from the castleship serves as background noise, drowning out any negativity he may be attracting. He focuses on the gentle comfort of his warm blankets and how they hug his body kindly, rocking him into a place of peace and tranquility. He hadn’t realized how heavy his eyelids were until now nor how relieving it felt to let them rest–to let his body rest.

Rest.

Sleep.

Absolutely not.

His eyes shoot open with his body following suit. He wouldn’t subject himself to another night of torture and agony–he couldn’t do it another night, especially not tonight when his mind was malleable and weak.

He slips on his shoes and sucks up his pride; the embarrassing fate of acknowledging his outburst earlier today with someone was far more favorable than his terrorizing nightmares and restless mind. He sighs and leaves the room, repeating his task of lining the walls with no real purpose.

He isn’t sure how long he does this for, but he eventually finds himself slowing to a stop when he hears muffled laughter and playful shouting from a nearby room. He sneaks his way down the hall until he’s beside the door, cracking it open just an inch so he can peer inside.

“Go fish!” Lance shouts with his hands in the air.

“We’re not playing that game, Lance.” Pidge facepalms.

“But I don’t have the card you want.” Lance jabs at the logic confidently. 

“I don’t want any of your cards, dude. We’re playing trash .” Pidge tries to explain for the millionth time.

“Tell me about it,” Lance mutters, collecting his cards and throwing them in the air.

“Oh! I only need a 3 and I win!” Hunk exclaims.

Keith can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. The trio had always been so close and comfortable around one another and perhaps a part of Keith was jealous about that. Of course, he would never admit it, but somewhere deep inside himself, he felt that same longing for closeness and vulnerability. Yes, it terrified him to no end, but that’s what made it so desirable. The two feelings juxtaposed one another so sweetly and softly that it created a mixture he could not get anywhere else except through the sacred discomfort.

He thinks back to what Shiro told him the other night. He really doesn’t want to talk to Shiro about his nightmares (he doesn’t want to talk to these people about them either, to be fair). That left the only option of filling the void with something ‘enjoyable’. This was something Shiro would consider enjoyable, right?

“Hey.” Keith sheepishly clears his throat and knocks on the door, opening it the rest of the way. Three heads whip around to face him, presenting a mixed concoction of reactions. They’re all surprised at first, perhaps confused, but Hunk and Pidge quickly morph into something disgustingly hopeful and happy; Lance seems far from pleased.

“Keith! Buddy! What’s up?” Hunk beams at the older teen.

“I just heard something and came to check it out. Didn’t know you guys were in here.” Keith nervously rubs the back of his neck.

Did he sound desperate? Was he being too obvious? Maybe not obvious enough? Should he just be direct? What if they don’t want him to be there?

“Oh, were we too loud? Sorry about that, man.” Hunk deflates a bit, seemingly expecting something else.

“No, no! You guys are fine! I was just wondering…” Keith trails off, fidgeting with his sleeves and mentally slapping himself for being so shit at social interaction. “I was wondering what you guys were doing?”

“We’re playing trash! Have you ever played before?” Pidge shows just as much excitement as the Yellow Paladin.

“I don’t think so? What’s trash?” Keith falls into something more natural.

“You are,” Lance grumbles, earning a jab to the side from Pidge but receiving an otherwise ignored response.

“Come on in! We’ll show you!” Pidge waves him over. Keith shyly enters the room and takes a spot between Hunk and Pidge, listening to them explain the rules of the game.

Mabe Keith lied.

Maybe he knew how to play (Who didn’t? Seriously?) and maybe Pidge (or even Lance) picked up on this halfway through his third win, but even if they had, neither one said anything. They let him ride out this lie.

They continue to play, losing to Keith each and every round, until Hunk lets out a big yawn with a stretch. “I'm beat. Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“Ok.”

Keith stayed silent, unsure if he was invited to this as well. He watches Pidge stand up and inch towards the door.

“I'm gonna go get some blankets. I'll be right back.” Pidge announces, promptly separating from the others.

“Ooh! I'll go get some snacks!” Hunk pipes up, leaving the room as well.

“Great,” Lance mumbles, standing up to gather the cards. “They left us to clean up.” 

Keith doesn’t add any thoughts, just goes along with the events transpiring, it’s easier that way. He carefully helps clean up the cards sprawled out on the table and shifts them into the same orientation. He lets the room fill with silence for just a few moments before he figures he should take advantage of their alone time.

“Listen-”

“Hey-”

It seemed Lance had the same idea.

“Sorry, uh, go ahead.” Lance timidly encourages, no longer focused on collecting the game but rather anxiously playing with them, mindlessly shuffling the same stack he had already accumulated.

“I was just gonna apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean what I said. You contribute a lot to this team and I think you’re a really valuable member, I hope you know that.” Keith expresses sincerely and confidently. Despite his discomfort with emotions, he presented rather strongly about this and perhaps that’s what set Lance unease. 

“‘Preciate it.” Lance awkwardly nods. “I didn’t mean what I said either, by the way. I think I crossed a line and I’m sorry. We’re all really happy to have you here.” Lance looks away, attempting to shield any embarrassment he may feel from the talk.

“Thanks, Lance.” Keith smiles, reaching over to grab Lance’s pile and add it to his own. 

“Are you…Are you mad at me or something?” Lance quietly asks, fidgeting with his sleeve.

“What? No, I know you didn’t mean it. Same way I didn’t mean what I said. We were just heated, that’s all.” Keith shrugs, flipping through the cards to make sure they are all aligned properly.

“No, I mean about something else? You just got so mad so quickly.” Lance hesitantly continues, falling into a sense of guilt for another and then another pit of shame for even feeling that way in the first place.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lance.” Keith sighs, tapping the cards against the table and avoiding eye contact. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate.”

“We’ve got the same plate. We’re fighting the same battler here, man.” Lance playfully smirks.

“Not like that, idiot.” Keith grins, flicking a card at Lance who promptly dodges it and watches it fly past him to hit the wall. He laughs and walks over to retrieve it, slowly dying down in expression while tracing the edges of the card. He mulls over Keith’s words and walks back to the table, handing the card to Keith alongside the box they were meant to go in.

“Seriously, though, what’s going on?” Lance tilts his head. 

“I don’t know,” Keith answers without thinking. His automatic response to confrontation was always to evade or deny and it worked very well. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for not giving honesty a chance. Here Lance was, going out of his way to get to know Keith better and offer him some support, and Keith couldn’t at least acknowledge it? He wants to be truthful, he really does, but he can’t find it in himself to follow through (at least, not yet). Still, he has to offer Lance something . “It’s just hard to sleep sometimes, I guess.”

Lance watches the Red Paladin freeze at his own words as if he were preparing himself for an impending attack from the younger. A deep pain panged Lance’s heart at the realization that not only did Keith not trust him enough to take something like this seriously, but he also expected him to respond maliciously.

“I get them too, sometimes.” Lance quietly adds, deciding this response to break the pattern of indifference and hatred. He pulls the closed box from Keith’s hands and offers him a solemn smile, putting the box away. 

“We ready?” Hunk calls, bursting into the room with Pidge following close behind. (Never mind the unlikely probability that both paladins managed to make it back at the same time or the fact that the walls turning the corner were thin and both teens were patient).

“Hell yeah!” Lance shouts, matching Hunk’s enthusiasm.

Lance places a random DVD into the system and hits play, patiently waiting through the ads so he can focus on getting comfy. Hunk pulls the table closer to the couch and sets down the snacks he brought back. He lays down on the corner where the sofa elongated out, allowing him to rest his entire body. Pidge throws a large blanket at his face, forcing a giggle out of him as he spreads it across himself.

“Cannonball!” Pidge yells, jumping onto the couch and taking the spot next to him. Pidge curls up into a little ball and rests against Hunk’s side, pulling the blanket to cover both of them.

“Canno-” Lance starts but is immediately cut off.

“Absolutely not. You remember what happened last time?” Hunk holds up a finger and glares at his friend.

“Aw, man.” Lance deflates, dramatically dragging his feet over to the cushions and plopping his body next to Hunk. He lays his head against Hunk’s chest and throws his arms across his waist. Hunk takes the initiative to use the other half of the blanket to cover Lance as well before draping his arm behind Lance’s shoulders.

Keith can only watch. Truthfully, he’s never been one for physical contact. There was something about being that close and intimate with something that made his skin itch, scratching and stretching itself inside out as if it were allergic to affection. He must’ve been staring for too long because Hunk starts to stare back.

“You gonna join?” Hunk offers, patting the spot next to Lance.

“What are you doing?” Keith blurts out a bit too harshly.

“Uh, cuddling?” Lance says matter-of-factly. Keith doesn’t respond, he just stares in disbelief. Lance quickly picks up on the confusion and sighs, turning his head to look at the older boy. “It helps Pidge fall asleep, reminds Hunk of home, and…prevents a lot of my nightmares.”

Part of Keith worried his wording seemed too insensitive, so he stayed silent once more (words typically failed him anyway). Despite his disgust with intimacy he still felt jealous. It’s not like he wanted something like this, and yet, perhaps he needed it?

Keith nods, acknowledging the information, and lays down beside Lance. He doesn’t dare grab the blanket to touch anyone else, he’s perfectly content soaking in their company and watching the movie on the large screen. Still, he can’t stop his eyes from wandering over to the trio closely bundled together. He’s trying so hard not to be weird about this, but he couldn’t deny the facts: this was weird. Perhaps not weird, per se, but definitely different, misunderstood. This was something new and that scared him.

Suddenly Lance turns his head to stare back at Keith, locking eyes and holding it. They don’t release a sound from their lips and yet their eyes say enough. Lance’s gaze drops to Keith’s stiff arms and then back up. He slowly reaches over to grab Keith’s wrist, freezing for a moment when he feels Keith flinch at the very first contact. Keith takes a deep breath and nods, allowing the Cuban boy to follow through with whatever he had planned.

Lance gently grasps Keith’s wrist and guides it across his own waist, feeling Keith’s body flow with the movement until he’s rolled onto his side and snuggled up next to Lance. Lance releases his grip and places his arm back around Hunk. Keith’s muscles stiffen at the placement, unsure of what he’s meant to do. Then he feels Hunk’s fingers card through his hair in such a gentle and loving manner that he can’t help but melt into the couch. He leans into the touch and lets his body relax, confidently wrapping his arm around Lance and hugging him tightly.

He gives up on watching the movie. His eyes flutter and breathing settles into something far more enjoyable than some space romcom. He really doesn’t want to go to sleep; he’s still so afraid, but Lance’s content snoring, Pidge’s soft yawns, and Hunk’s gentle hums are sending him into a peace he’s never felt.

“Rest, Keith. We’ll be here for you when you wake up.” Hunk eventually whispers to him.

And this time he listens. He lets his body drift far away and mind rest willingly into serenity; he’s asleep in a matter of seconds.

And if he sleeps through breakfast and morning training, so be it. If he avoids Shiro’s soothing smiles filled with pride, no one has to know. If he cherishes the security he feels resting in the arms of his friends, then oh well. There was nothing wrong with being vulnerable and letting the people who love you the most fill in the empty cracks within your heart, he just wishes he had known that sooner. Still, there was no better time than the present (and for that, he would gladly take advantage of unwanted emotions each and every night).

Chapter Text

Keith’s patience was an already desperately thin thing, much less strong enough to persevere through Lance’s childish dinner games.

“I can do it with mashed potatoes, and this is basically the same thing.” Lance explains proudly after an elaborate and captivating story about how he used to scoop up food, place it on the back of his palm, and then smack his arms together, propelling the food into the air and– hopefully –into his mouth. No one at the table seemed particularly amused by the fact but they didn’t seem bothered either. It was nearing the end of the day, and they were all tired.

Keith–sitting right next to Lance– was , in fact, bothered by this, because it meant that all of Lance’s miscalculated and overzealous shots were inching closer towards him, some splashing freckles of food onto his sleeve. A giant glob of green space goo lands in the middle of his plate with a smack and Keith loses it.

“That’s it!” Keith shouts, chair screeching against the floor as he pushes off the table and shoots up. “I’m done.”

Keith turns on his heel and swiftly exits the large dining hall, having eaten a total of nothing. If anyone calls after him, he doesn’t hear it nor does he care. There’s blood rushing to his ear and he’s fuming. 

On autopilot, Keith ends up in the training room. There was a heat boiling under his skin and he needed to satiate it, to simmer it down. He throws his jacket onto the floor and proceeds to beat up a few innocent gladiators for about an hour, but the heat is still there. It’s not an angry heat anymore, but rather an uncomfortable one, but the fact that it’s still there makes Keith angry, so it feels as if no progress has been made in the past hour. If anything, he now has a mild ache in his body and developing pounding in his head.

“Hey!” Lance shouts from the entry way. Keith’s tolerance for Lance had since reached its limit today, he was not about to tread down that path once more. He ignores Lance’s words and continues to smack around a stationary bot with a staff.

(And if he’s imagining Lance’s face all the while, then so be it.)

“Keith.” Lance tries again, now running until he’s closer behind Keith. Keith lets out one final grunt as he jabs the bot with his staff.

“What?” He gruffly bites at Lance.

“Whoa, chill out. I just came to talk.” Lance chuckles through his words; he does that a lot: awkwardly giggling when he isn’t sure how to handle something. Keith knows he can’t help it, but it only riles him up more, feeling like Lance was laughing at him.

“I don’t wanna talk to you.” Keith finalizes, gripping his staff tighter and getting into a fighting stance, reading to go another round with the pliant bot in front of him, but Lance grabs his shoulder to get his attention.

“C’mon, I-” Two things happen when Lance touches Keith’s shoulder: one, Keith pushes him off rather aggressively and two, Lance realizes Keith feels oddly warm. Then again, the glare he is sending Lance is flushed red, likely from a mix of exhaustion and anger. 

“Don’t touch me.” Keith snarls at him. Sure, touch wasn’t Keith’s thing and Lance knew this. Even so, he was typically very welcoming of handshakes and shoulder bumps and side hugs and sometimes even initiated them himself; a touch on the shoulder should not warrant this kind of response.

“Copy that.” Lance nods firmly, taking a step back. “I wanted to apologize for-”

“I don’t care.” Keith interrupts him, taking a deep breath and turning around to grab his jacket off the floor.

“What is your problem?” Lance scoffs, following him despite the clear intentions to get away.

“You.” Keith whips around rather quickly, startling Lance for a moment. He takes a step, getting in Lance’s face and poking his chest. “Right now? It’s you. You’re the problem. So, please , leave me the hell alone, Ok?”

He walks past Lance, bumping his shoulder on the way before leaving the training hall. Now was typically the time after his arguments with Lance where he reflected on his choices and then the two made up, but Keith couldn’t focus on anything other than the heat radiating off his skin. There was an angry warmth engulfing his body and it seemed no matter what he did it wouldn’t go away.

The nap he takes only lasts a few hours and does nothing to rejuvenate his body. He wakes up shivering . There’s sweat dripping down his forehead and off strands of his hair, but his limbs are absolutely quivering with a frozen ache. His entire body feels weak and faint and wrong , but at the same time he doesn’t really feel all there to register it. His throat is dry and cracked so much that his own saliva won’t form. He peels himself off the sheets and sluggishly makes his way to the kitchen.

At first, he’s surprised to find someone already sitting at the kitchen island, eating a late-night bowl of food goo. Then he’s not surprised when he realizes it’s Lance who is probably rendered just as hungry as Keith was from his earlier antics. Keith scoffs and makes his way to the sink, reaching for a cup from the cupboard.

He glances, just once, behind him and locks eyes with Lance. They don’t say anything but there’s a mutual understanding they’re both angry and definitely not ready to talk yet. Keith turns back around and starts to fill up the cup. His mind is hazy and soft, and it isn’t until cold water is running over his wrist does he realize he’s overfilled the cup. He quickly dumps the extra water on top and sets the glass aside, instead reaching for a towel to wipe off his arm. His vision starts to go blurry, and body starts to sway but the sound of a chair scraping against the floor brings him back.

He reaches for his glass and listens to Lance push in his chair, drop his dish in a different sink, and shuffle his way out of the kitchen. Keith wants to scoff at the pettiness of it all, but the feeling dies in his throat. His entire upper body is burning but his extremities feel a degree away from frostbite. The shaking has worsened, and he looks down to see the water in his cup starting to spill out the sides. He tries to pull the cup closer to his lips but suddenly the cup is made of lead, and his arm is a feather trying to hold it up. The glass drops to the floor, slipping from his trembling fingers.

He blinks and suddenly there’s broken shards of glass all over the floor.

He blinks and suddenly he’s on the floor as well.

He blinks and he’s trying to pick up sharp pieces. There’s red amongst the mess.

He blinks. Why was there broken glass on the floor? Why was he cleaning it up?

He blinks and there are arms around him, hugging him gently from behind–no, not hugging, pulling , pulling him down.

He blinks and he’s lying on the floor, a looming figure above him. Their mouth is moving and words are coming out but Keith doesn’t hear them. He tries to tell them about the glass but his throat is still dry and all his water is on the floor.

He keeps his eyes closed this time.

When he comes to it’s a lot less chaotic than before. There’s a cool damp cloth being dabbed against his forehead and the sides of his temple. There’s a warm blanket covering him up to his shoulder, wrapping him in warmth. The dryness on his tongue is gone and the sweat from his skin isn’t sticking to his hair. There’s still a fog in his brain and the world still feels like it’s tilting, but he’s better, he knows that much. He doesn’t feel like he’s on fire anymore, either; maybe close to a boil, but not aflame.

He turns towards the cloth and sees an intensely focused Lance, gently moving Keith’s hair out of the way so he can wipe down the side of his face. He looks concentrated and concerned, but there’s a mix of…disappointment? Keith replays the day’s events and starts to feel the same way. 

Lance pulls back the cloth, dipping it in more ice water and ringing it out before starting another swipe at Keith’s other side. It’s gentle. It’s kind. It’s everything Keith didn’t deserve after today.

“I was mean to you.” Keith croaks out. Lance freezes for a moment, eyes barely widened before relaxing once more and continuing to work.

“That you were.” Lance agrees quietly, finishing his task before setting all his stuff aside.

“But you ruined my food.” Keith continues, eyes lazily blinking as he slowly breaks from the drowsiness.

“Kinda.” Lance shrugs indifferently.

“I broke a glass.” Keith frowns at the realization. A deeply rooted fear starts to bubble in his stomach and he can’t exactly place why. It’s not the end of the world, he knows this, but suddenly he’s terrified of what the others will say when they find out. Why doesn’t he want them to find out?

“And cut your hand pretty good while you were at it.” Lance scoffs gently, grabbing Keith’s arm from the covers and turning his palm over, revealing a neatly wrapped gauze across his hand. Keith doesn’t remember it hurting.

“I broke a glass.” Keith repeats the realization a bit quieter this time.

“I cleaned it up, don’t worry.” Lance attempts to assure him, turning Keith’s hand back over once he’s sure there’s no bleeding.

“I didn’t mean to.” Keith tries to reason, looking Lance in the eyes. He really didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Sure, he was still responsible, but he didn’t mean it and that has to count for something, right?

“Ok.” Lance whispers gently, nodding along to show he believes and understands Keith. It eases his nerves a considerable amount. 

“Listen, you’ve got the flu, I think. A Galra flu kind of thing? I’m not sure, Coran explained it earlier, but you’re basically gonna be out of it for about a day and then it’ll pass, Ok?” Lance explains finally, pulling himself away from Keith and stuffing his hands into his lap.

“Mmm.” Keith hums lazily, turning to stare at the ceiling. “And Shiro?”

“He’ll be back soon. I sent him to get some breakfast.” Lance answers dimly, fidgeting with his sleeves.

Keith turns to eye him carefully. He feels out of place, he knows that because he’s felt that way before as well. But, this time Keith was the one to misplace. The past few hours have been messy and exhausting and Lance had received nothing but grief in turn from Keith’s problems. There wasn’t much Keith could do to fix it now, but at the very least, he could assure him of his place.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.” Keith mumbles lightly before rolling his head to stare back at the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lance’s eyes widen before a faint but ever growing smile presents itself on his face.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to soothe the burning feeling in his chest.

Chapter Text

Waking up without remembering what you were doing the night before wouldn’t be much of an issue had it not been for the fact that Keith couldn’t remember where he was or how he got there.

Yes, the bed was generously soft and forgiving against his skin. Yes, he was not restrained in the slightest (unless you counted the spacious room he was in). Yes, his body was refreshed and free from ailments. But he wasn’t safe. Nothing about his predicament was necessarily threatening, but something was sending his body into a state of fight or flight–and right now he was opting for flight.

He pushes off the bed and quietly stalks toward what he assumes is the door (it didn’t look like anything he’s seen before, but it intentionally stood out). He aligns himself with the exit and is startled by it automatically opening, revealing the outside world.

Well, not the outside world as much as it was insipid walls void of windows and doors for as far as he could tell–perhaps he was being held underground? The vacancy was unsettling to say the least. There were no guards, no cameras, no blockages, nothing that screamed he was being held against his will and perhaps that was the most alarming part. It was so painfully obvious a trap and yet he still had to refrain from sprinting out just to feel something other than this nothingness.

Instead, he retreats back into the room and leans against the wall, waiting for the door to close. If he was kidnapped then surely they would have some means of monitoring him, which meant they knew he was awake and would be sending for him soon. The longer he held his ear to the wall and listened to the soft hum of the lights the more he started to doubt his suspicions. Faintly, he hears footsteps approach his door and slow down.

Keith holds his breath.

“Get up, Mullet!” A voice shouts, kicking his door once, and then walking away.

Huh? What the hell was happening and why did it feel so…domestic? Why was it almost soothing ? Playful and loving, even?

He shakes his head; he needs to think. What was he doing before he got here? Everything was messy and pieced together the wrong way and the more he tries to think about it the more his head hurts. He remembers being in his shack, he remembers falling asleep on the couch, he remembers stringing together photos and drawings, he remembers feeling the presence of something much larger and far greater than he could explain, but he couldn’t remember the proper order of his memories let alone what he was doing last night. He chalks it up to the drugs they likely gave him and hopes it wears off soon.

Right now he needed to arm himself with something other than his fists. A quick glance of the room didn’t supply anything promising. Perhaps he could suffocate someone with the pillowcase? Strangle a person with the sheets? Break a light and use the shards as a blade?

Yeah, that last one would have to work.

Breaking the glass with his fist would result in an injury he didn’t have the luxury of nursing. His eyes fell upon his jacket, lazily thrown at the end of the bed and crafted with a thick leather far more reliable than the thin sheets. He could wrap his hand in that and then punch the light. He reaches for it but stops to catch what falls out:

A knife.

His knife.

What? If he had been abducted, then why did they leave him with a weapon? Surely, they had noticed it? Surely, he had tried to use it? Somehow this was another trap, it just had to be.

“Breakfast is ready-” A voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

He curses himself for not noticing the door opening or the person walking in but doesn’t hesitate to pocket his knife and grab the shoulder of the individuals. He twists them around and digs their arms into their back, pinning them against the wall. The only retaliation is that of a squeaky yelp. It was easy; too easy.

“Who are you?” Keith immediately demands.

“Ooh! I love this game! Let’s see, am I purple?” The man cheerfully guesses, and Keith almost gets dizzy with confusion. The persistent psychological warfare was a dirty way to play, but Keith be damned if he wasn’t stronger than their silly schemes.

“I’ll ask again: who are you?” Keith growls.

“Ok, Ok! So, I’m not Galra. What about white hair? Do I have white hair?” The man continues, a smile bleeding through his voice. 

“No, I’m asking-” Keith attempts to speak but this man has the audacity to cut him off mid-interrogation.

“So not Allura or Sh-”

“Shut up! God, just shut up! Where am I?” Keith changes the question when he realizes he won’t be getting anywhere with the first one.

“Now that’s not very fair, Number 4. You didn’t even let me finish the first one before changing it!” The man…pouted?

Number 4? So that meant there were more people? Either he was captured alongside three other prisoners, or he was their fourth attempt at whatever this was. Neither revelation was particularly helpful, but a future ally may be useful. 

“There are others? Where are they?” 

“Um, the dining hall? Where we are all meant to be eating breakfast? Are you feeling well, Keith?” The man tries to tilt his head back with concern, but his position wouldn’t allow it.

A small pang of familiarity resonates in Keith after the man uses his name, but it’s far from properly placed and creates a feeling he couldn’t even name if he tried. He doesn’t remember knowing anyone with vibrant orange hair, a futuristically-ancient style, and a British accent? (Actually, he doesn’t know anyone with even one of those characteristics).

“How do you know my name?” Keith has to stop his voice from wavering. Everything was overwhelmingly wrong, his mouth was dry and his face warm. 

“You told me…? I wouldn’t like to play this game any longer.” The man’s expression quickly shifted into one of concern.

“Hey Coran, Keith. Just grabbing my-” The same voice from earlier walks by, whistling nonchalantly and shooting them a gentle wave with seemingly full intentions of walking right past them until they catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

“Don’t move.” Keith whispers, pulling out his knife and pointing it at the man.

“Whoa, not moving.” The boy chuckles, throwing his hands up in the air carelessly. Was everyone as insufferable and senseless as these two?

“Tell me who you are.” Keith tries again with the new person.

“You’re not purple nor do you have white hair!” Coran’s head peaks around to the door to inform the boy. Keith forces him back against the wall with an annoyed grunt.

“We’re not playing 20 Questions!” Keith shouts in frustration (was this their version of torture? It was very effective).

“What did you give him, Coran?” The boy chuckles some more, loosely maintaining his position with his arms in the air.

“Nothing! He came this way!” Coran assures, complying with his placement against the wall this time.

“Nah, he wasn’t like this yesterday?” The boy shakes his head.

“I was here yesterday? How long have I been here?” Keith feels his body starting to soften at the single crumb of information he’s starting to nibble at.

“I’m not sure? A few months, maybe?” The boy shrugs, finally lowering his hands once Keith’s seemed to calm down.

“A few months?” Keith shouts a bit louder than he intended, shaking the knife at the boy.

“Yeah! Why? Where else would you be?” The boy puts his hands back up with visible panic.

“Home?” Keith bites back as if it were obvious.

“No can do, Keith! We must defeat Zarkon first!” Coran’s jolly voice is barely muffled against the wall; clearly Keith wasn’t pushing hard enough.

“What the hell is a Zarkon?” It feels as if with each question answered, two more take its place.

“Coran…something isn’t right.” The boy’s expression promptly settles into something more serious, finally.

“I agree, Number 3.” Coran nods.

“Number 3? Are-” Keith lessens his grip as the possibility of someone being in a similar predicament to his own.

“OH MY GOD, CORAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Number 3 shrieks.

Filled with a sense of panic (Keith would deny it to be curiosity or weakness or anything of the such), Keith looks down at the man and is met with nothing other than his silly face, tongue sticking out and eyes wayward. This did not constitute the amount of alarm in Number 3’s voice.

“Jesus-” Keith sighs.

Before he can look back up, he’s being pushed away from Coran and onto the floor. Coran bolts out the door and Number 3 attempts to follow. Keith has half the mind to grab his knife and sweep out his leg, knocking Number 3 to the floor with him.

Number 3 rises to his knees and–boldly, might Keith add–turns around to fight him off. He attempts to push Keith back, but Keith grabs his wrists and pulls him with him, twisting them before they hit the ground so that Number 3 is on the floor and Keith is atop him. He pins his arms to the floor with his knees, pushes a forearm against his chest, and pokes his knife under his chin. Number 3 raises his head with the direction of the weapon and Keith revels in the upper hand he has just given himself.

“I’ll ask you once more and then I won’t be so kind: where am I?” Keith grits through his teeth.

“Your room! Your room, man! Did you not fall asleep here? How do you not recognize-” Which was not the answer Keith was looking for.

“Shut up! God, are all of you like this? Who are you and what do you want?” Keith pushes the knife a little further, not enough to break the skin but enough to earn a whimper from Number 3 as he attempts to retreat further into the ground.

“It’s Lance, man! Are you blind? I was just gonna get my jacket! It’s chilly in the dining hall.” Lance innocently explains, ever so slightly shivering either from the cold or the fear.

“Are you with the Garrison?” Keith narrows his eyes.

“Kinda? Probably not anymore since Hunk, Pidge, and I just up and left and followed your stupid ass-” Lance begins to ramble.

“Hunk and Pidge? Are they Number 1 and 2?” Keith starts to piece things together.

“Maybe? I don’t really remember Coran’s list very well but I’m pretty sure Pidge-” Words continue to spill from Lance’s mouth at an ungodly rate and Keith quickly determines he’s not a threat. He also determines he’d be an awful spy.

“Keith?” A familiar voice interjects. Keith whips his head around and his gaze drops, grip loosening, and body relaxing. 

“Shiro?” He whispers in disbelief. Lance takes advantage of the fragile moment to push Keith off him and scramble away, hiding behind Shiro and a few others.

“Shiro! Keith tried to kill me!” Lance exclaims like a child.

“Keith? What’s going on?” Shiro’s gentle voice bleeds concern. How relieving it is to finally hear his voice.

“Shiro, you’re alive.” Keith lets out a chuckle as he pushes off the ground and takes a step towards the man. He freezes when he realizes Shiro does not share the same level of excitement. No, in fact, he seemed worried?

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” Shiro tilts his head with soft eyes.

It’s then that Keith notices how different Shiro looks. He hadn’t realized it before; he had felt the warmth from his voice and tranquility from his presence before he saw the metal arm replacing flesh, or the white fluff of hair, or the scar bridging across his nose. Whatever happened to Shiro, it must’ve been bad.

“What happened to you, Shiro? What’s going on?” Keith whispers, as if the others wouldn’t hear him, as if they weren’t there. It didn’t matter to Keith. All that mattered was the man standing in front of him. The man he had been longing for, begging to see just one more time was here.

“Oh, crap. Does he have amnesia?” A small person speaks up.

“Amnesia? What did you guys give me?” Keith forces himself to look at the others. They didn’t look threatening?

“This must’ve been from yesterday…” A large man mutters in realization. 

“He seemed fine when we all went to bed?” Lance adds, still peeking around Shiro’s back.

“He tends to hide his injuries. He’s good at that.” Shiro explains confidently and Keith desperately wants to smile and reminisce on their past together, but the fear in his bones wouldn’t allow it. “Why don’t you sit down, and we can talk this out?”

Despite any reservations, Keith sits himself down on the edge of his bed. Shiro cautiously makes his way over, showing his hands in the process to ensure Keith he wasn’t a threat. He takes his spot next to Keith as the others file in, standing a distance away from the pair, especially Lance and Coran.

“First,” Shiro holds out his hand. “I’m gonna need that knife.”

“What? No. I’m not giving you my knife, Shiro.” Keith furrows his brows and holds his possession close to his chest.

“It’s just a precaution. I don’t want you hurting yourself or others.” Shiro gently gestures to his empty palm. “I’m not going to do anything, Keith. You know I wouldn’t do anything.”

Did he? Sure, he sounded like Shiro and acted like Shiro, but he didn’t look like Shiro and in some way that had changed him beyond his appearances. Whatever drastic events that led to this moment had altered him to some degree. Keith couldn’t pinpoint it just yet, but he was sure of it. Perhaps it was Shiro and perhaps he was still the same man he once knew, but he couldn’t allow himself to soak in the comfort until he was sure.

“Right, and you know I wouldn’t do anything either.” Keith challenges.

“I don’t know that. I don’t know which Keith I’m talking to. You’ve gone through a lot, bud. You’ve had a handful of moments where I’d consider you a wild card and I can’t take any chances. Until I’m 100% sure we understand this, I need to negate any possibility you could do harm.” Shiro explained plainly, simply, as if he hadn’t just insinuated Keith was unreasonable and out of control (which hadn’t mattered anyways since Keith wasn’t truly registering his words, just the warmth of his presence).

“Fine.” Keith sighs, plopping the knife in Shiro’s hand. “But I need it back. You know how important it is to me.”

“I promise.” Shiro nods, passing the knife over to Hunk for safe keeping. “Let’s start with the last thing you remember?”

“It’s all a little fuzzy, honestly.” Keith doesn’t lie, but he doesn’t tell the whole truth either. He can trust Shiro, but he can’t trust the other people, so he’ll just have to let them lead.

“That’s Ok, we’ll start with something easier. How old are you?”

“18.”

“Alright, that tells us a lot actually.” Shiro glances over at the others and they seem a bit relieved.

“It does?” Keith urges them further.

“Have you started feeling that weird energy out in the desert?” Lance relaxes.

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Keith awkwardly nods.

“You’ve only lost the past couple months then.” The small person concludes.

“Only? That’s a lot of time. I still don’t know where I am or who you people are, except for Shiro–who, by the way, has been declared dead for the past year!” Keith boils up. A reassuring hand on his shoulder from Shiro is enough to calm him down.

“Well, I’m Princess Allura of Altea and this is my advisor, Coran.” A girl introduces herself and the man Keith originally attacked.

“Altea? I’ve never heard of that country?” Keith looks over at Shiro who’s smiling with amusement.

“There’s something you should see.”

“Whoa.” Keith gasps.

They had helped him to his feet and guided him to the observation deck. Keith’s legs still felt wobbly, and his head was gradually pounding, but he wouldn’t admit it. He needed to see this.

This expansive and terrifying eternity of space– actual space. The one place he had dreamed of being for as long as he could remember. The single desire that followed him through each foster home and ever-changing schools and persisted even when Shiro had disappeared into the vastness of space (his urge had only grown stronger then). He gave into the fatigue and sat down on the floor, watching various stars pass by and different debris navigate around the ship. 

It was more beautiful than he could’ve imagined.

Slowly, the others sat down with him, patiently waiting for him to soak in the never-ending lights (he’d never get used to it, not really). They could’ve sat there for minutes or hours, but time left him with his eyes wide and mouth agape. Still, they don’t break his trance.

“How am I here?” His voice comes out gentle and in disbelief, finally facing the others.

“That weird energy you’ve been feeling was actually connected to something much larger; an intergalactic war.” Pidge–who Keith had been introduced to during the walk, alongside Lance and Hunk–explains. Keith waits for a further explanation.

“We’re all Paladins of Voltron.” Lance clears his throat and tries to clarify.

“Voltron?” Keith whips his head towards him. He’d never heard so many unfamiliar terms before in his life (and he had once walked into a quantum mechanics class and took 5 minutes to figure out he was in the wrong room).

“A giant robot composed of 5 separated flying lions that we each pilot.” Lance explains simply, as if it were all simple.

“Excuse me?” Keith scoffs, assuming this to be a joke. He’d gotten that vibe from Lance, that he wasn’t to be taken seriously, but he wasn’t getting that vibe now. He swallows a lump in his throat and just nods back. “So, I fly a giant robotic lion?”

“Essentially.” Lance confirms.

“To fight in an intergalactic war?” Keith reiterates.

“That you do, Number 4.” Coran smiles at the revelation. Keith frowns at the title. He’d have to ask about that later.

“Cool, cool.” Keith awkwardly nods. “And why is this happening?”

“Because the Galra have taken reign over the universe for thousands of decaphoebs. Their leader, Zarkon, must be stopped. Voltron is the only thing powerful enough to do so.” The Princess explained. It felt too professional for Keith’s liking.

“Decaphoebs?” Keith questions. That was a unit of time he had never heard before.

“Years, basically.” Pidge clarifies.

“Ah,” Keith nods once more, looking out into the vastness of space. “Why can’t I remember any of this?”

He felt angry. Angry and scared and confused and overwhelmed. The last thing he remembered was living in his shack (although, even that was a bit fuzzy) and suddenly he was fighting in a space war with his flying lion? It was all so much.

He had spent his entire life wishing he could forget. Praying that somehow, he’d forget about the endless nights and everlasting pain and traumatic homes, and perhaps some of it he had forgotten, but it wasn’t nearly enough for him to find solace. Now, all he wanted to do was remember. He didn’t care what it took.

“You had a pretty nasty hit to the head, bud.” Shiro’s hand gently places itself on his shoulder. Keith feels calm. He doesn’t flinch.

“We were infiltrating a Galra base, and they had a trap set we hadn’t prepared for. A giant explosion went off and you were sent flying into a wall.” Lance explains with more seriousness than Keith would’ve liked. There wasn’t a lot of consistency right now, but Lance’s carefree attitude had been one of them, and now that was gone as well.

“How come I can’t remember stuff now? Why didn’t it affect me when I got hit?” Keith questions. 

“It’s possible the full effects of the concussion weren’t present until you fell asleep last night. Your brain is wired differently when you sleep, sending different messages and if there’s already some damage in the neurons then that opens up a whole new realm of possibilities of damage.” Pidge explained. Keith was grateful for the realistic approach but felt slightly unnerved by the severity of it.

“How long until I remember?” Keith begs for Pidge to have an answer to this as well.

“Hard to say.” Coran frowns anxiously. “That trauma wasn’t very severe. I estimate a qunintant or two.” Keith sends a puzzled look at the man.

“A day or two.” Hunk translates happily. 

“So, what now? What do I do until then?” Keith questions. He wasn’t a very patient person.

“I vote we get you to the med bay just to make sure you don’t have any other injuries going on.” Hunk suggests. 

“Sounds good, Hunk.” Shiro agrees, standing up and reaching out a hand that Keith gladly accepts, pulling him up.

When Coran confirms Keith has nothing other than a severe concussion and clears the possibility of internal bleeding or hemorrhaging, they allow Keith to leave the infirmary. Lance walks him back to his room and explains they're essentially neighbors, so if he needs something then he's more than welcome to come ask. Although, they figured after a morning like this, Keith would want some time to rest and recharge, which Keith appreciates because he had no intentions to leave his room until morning, when he wakes up back in the shack and everything is back to normal.

Hunk kindly visits him for lunch, dinner, and various snacks throughout the day. He sits with him and explains each dish, what it's composed of (or, what he thinks the ingredients likely are), and Keith relishes in the sense of normalcy Hunk is treating him with. It feels nice to be treated like an old friend, even if he can't remember Hunk; it was a nice distraction–one that Keith could comfortably melt into.

Keith wakes up the next morning with a mild but manageable headache, much of his strength restored, and in the same bed as the day before, with no memory of the time between his shack and yesterday's events. Hadn't Pidge told him he would be healed soon? All he had was a concussion? And yet he didn't feel the tiniest bit familiar with his surroundings. He was still just as confused as he was before, if not more.

“Maybe we should show him his lion? See if their connection helps any?” Hunk suggests after breakfast.

“Great idea, Number 1!” Coran jumps up confidently, leading the group to the hangars.

“What's with the numbers?” Keith whispers to Lance beside him.

“He ranked up by height when he first met up and sometimes he just falls back into the habit, I guess. It was annoying at first but now it's kinda endearing?” Lance whispers back.

“Am I really Number 4? I'm not that short, am I?” Keith almost pouts.

“Awe, it's Ok, shrimpy.” Lance playfully claps Keith's shoulder, eating a deathly glare that does nothing other than urge him on. “At least you're taller than Pidge.” He ruffles his hair, and Keith pulls away with a quiet grumble.

“Everyone's taller than Pidge.” Keith mutters angrily, continuing to walk just a smidge further from Lance's reach.

“I heard that!” Pidge calls from the back of the group.

“Cut him some slack, he's sick!” Lance defends him pointlessly.

“Not sick, just confused.” Keith corrects with equal futility. 

“Yeah, you are. I'm only slightly below the average height for my age.” Pidge huffs and for some reason, Keith doesn't find the statement believable. 

“Here we are! The lion hangars!” Coral reveals, throwing his arms out dramatically.

Keith crosses the threshold and immediately senses a strong pull from the back left corner, right behind a blue lion. Something similar to what he felt in the desert. The room is silent as he slowly walks his way towards the crimson creature in the corner. Any other time he would feel petrified of something so large and powerful, but right now he couldn't feel anything other than love and peace.

The world is quiet and if the others are still in the room then Keith is none the wiser. He doesn’t flinch or feel that familiar ache in his legs to run when the lions’ eyes glow and its mouth drops down to the floor, opening up before him and encouraging him inside.

“Sure, yeah, Ok. I can do that.” Keith mutters to himself before confidently walking into the cockpit. 

This was definitely not where he expected himself to be today.

He takes a gentle stroll around the area, running his fingers along the lights and switches and buttons and screens and wonders how anyone could possibly fly this. Nonetheless, he slowly lowers himself into the pilots’ chair and feels…nothing. 

There’s nothing.

Maybe a gentle hum in the back of his brain which, albeit unusual, didn’t connect him to anything in the way he had expected.

Then he places his hands on the two levers in front of him, tightens his grip, and his body quivers with emotion. He feels tranquility and unity and warmth and tenderness. He feels safe and secure in a way he didn’t know he could, in a way he didn’t think was possible. The distant hum (that was now more like a purr) growled a lot stronger in his mind, but it vibrated against his bones with a soft contentment rather than an overwhelming fear.

Suddenly his eyes are heavy and droopy and when he closes them he sees himself flying through an asteroid belt–something similar to the Garrison simulator. The images flashes and then he’s being pulled into something much larger than the beast he was in, but the closeness and vulnerability didn’t scare him. There are several other small images that follow after, small moments in time that all depict memories he doesn’t recall making. They were undeniably his, but he didn’t know how. 

“Show me more, please.” Keith begs with the gentle creature.

But she refuses. He wants to be angry. He wants to shout and yell but he’s flooded with a sense of amity and understanding and he can only feel grateful for what he’s been given and hopeful that one day he’ll be able to take more. 

He lets go of the handles and the feelings leave with it. He’s defeated and dejected and feels as if no amount of time or patience would bring the memories back, would bring him back.

He drags his legs out of the lion and walks mutely past the group of people urgently asking him questions and shooting him worried looks. He ignores them and continues down the hall, taking several crosses and turns until he lands in his room, turning off the lights and laying in his bed for the rest of the day. He had half the mind to question how he knew the path back to his room if he didn’t know the layout, but it wasn’t enough to bring him any faith.

Once again, he’s alone.

Almost a week.

It had been almost a week since Keith lost his memories and things don’t seem to be getting better. He’s had to sit out three missions so far, leaving him feeling particularly useless and the team rather vulnerable. He participates in training as much as he can, but even then, his skills are far from favorable.

“It’s not working.” Keith huffs, throwing off the stupid mind device they stuffed him in and crossing his arms. They’d been trying to mentally form Voltron for at least 30 minutes now, and clearly, they weren’t going to get anywhere. It was tedious and futile and stupid.

“I have something that might help.” Pidge anxious and quietly announces with a bite to the lip. Shiro glares at Pidge with an emotion Keith can’t quite place, but it’s clear he’s far from enthusiastic.

“We talked about this, Pidge. Coran said it’s too unstable.” Shiro frowns at the relayed message.

“I know, I know. But I talked to him this morning and we made some adaptations that I think may make it less risky.” Pidge offers; glasses pushed further up.

“It’s true, Number 1.” Coran announces over the intercom, but Shiro’s worries don’t seem sedated in the slightest.

“Would love to be informed on what this dangerous task may be.” Keith pouts.

“The idea is that we each enter Keith’s consciousness, planting our own memories of him in there, and then hoping that it opens up some doors.” Pidge further explains.

“I still don’t like it.” Shiro frowns.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Lance looks up towards the deck, assuming Coran’s still behind there with the intercom system.

“Any exploration with technology has endless possibilities of uncertainties, my boy. Especially with that which pertains to the soul, but I believe we’ve managed to narrow down those possibilities within a reasonable margin of error.” There’s a moment of silence but the crackle of the speaker system tells the paladins Coran is still on. “Although, there’s still a chance that this may awaken some unpleasant memories from Number 4…some repressed memories. Perhaps-”

“Will it hurt?” Keith interrupts.

“Not at all.” Coran assures.

“Then let’s do it.” Keith shrugs, crawling over to grab the device he’d previously thrown.

“Take a moment to think about it first, Keith. I-” Shiro tries to reason.

“I’ve had a week to do nothing except think, Shiro, and I’m sick of it. All I do is sit around doing nothing, being nothing. I don’t know what I’m doing, where I am, who I am, and if there’s even the smallest chance to bring my memories back, to bring me back, then I want to take it. I don’t care what the risks are.” Keith snaps back. His words are a bit harsher than he intends for them to be, but he can’t help it, he’s just so tired of feeling this way.

Shiro’s eyes dig into him, deep. They’re searching for something, but Keith can’t imagine what it would be; there’s not much of him left. It takes a handful of ticks longer than Keith thinks he can bear, but soon Shiro’s eyes soften, dropping from Keith’s gaze and onto the floor before raising to the observation where Coran remained.

“Let’s do it, Coran.” Shiro confirms, looking back at Keith with a firm nod.

“Yippee.” Keith mutters sarcastically, pulling the mind meld back over his head.

He closes his eyes and is consumed by a void. He’s surrounded by a black nothingness that still manages to hold him firmly upright. He looks around to see the others are less freaked out than he was; which, to be fair, seemed to be a recurring circumstance the more time he spent in this castle.

“What now?” Keith anxiously prompts.

“We’ll each start with a memory of you. All you have to do is start thinking about it and it’ll play. I’ll go first.” Pidge explains.

The world shifts and shatters, sending Keith falling down the blankness until the world around him is tilting and building something new; he recognizes it as a room in the castle–the dining hall. All 5 paladins are lined up with magnetic handcuffs and a very angry Coran beside an equally displeased Allura. Whatever had just happened has Pidge shouting at the pair.

“Oh, the princess of what? We’re the only ones out here and she’s no princess of ours!” The voice is a little distorted at first, still adjusting to the decayed memories after months of growth, but it quickly adjusts to the world. As if the memory alone wasn’t odd enough, Keith’s then startled to find a giant glob of green goo covering Pidge’s face, courtesy of the Princess.

“Go loose, Pidge!” Keith hears himself, hears his own voice shout throughout the hall before an entire bowl of food is being thrown back at the Princess.

Keith smiles. He doesn’t exactly remember this moment, but he remembers the feeling. He remembers all the anger and how it mixed beautifully (unfamiliarly) with unity and determination. He glances at Pidge with a soft expression and a small gracious nod.

Their turns continue. Hunk shows him a moment during an Arusian banquet where he and Keith are messing around. Keith spits something out towards the yellow paladin and Hunk turns around with Altean skewers as eyes. He watches Memory Keith laugh harder than he thought he was capable of. He remembers his stomach hurting for the rest of the night.

Lance’s moment isn’t as favorable as the others. He can tell it’s a painful one by the sudden drop in his stomach and air being yanked from his lungs. Lance is laid out against the floor, scattered pieces of metal and stray rubble surrounding him. His body is torn and beaten; he’s barely hanging on. Keith remembers the fear and exhaustion he felt in that moment.

“Lance! Are you Ok?” A pang of guilt.

“We did it. We are a good team.” Lance smiles at him. A sliver of hope.

And then Lance proceeds to promptly pass out, forcing Keith to catch him before his head hits the floor. The memory immediately fades as Keith is met with a mixed array of expressions from the others. He doesn’t understand, but he knows this memory was important for several reasons.

“Normal Keith is going to kill you, dude.” Hunk chuckles at Lance.

“A price to pay.” Lance shrugs but Keith can tell he’s anxious in the way his hands shake, quickly being stuffed into his pockets.

Shiro finishes it off with a memory in a familiar place: the desert. He sees Shiro staring out into the vast terrain with a stern look that weakens once Keith walks up and places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

And Keith thinks he might remember this? Or maybe he’s just used to Shiro being one of the few people that haunted his dreams night after night that he’s confused it for a memory instead, but something about it was familiar.

“Wanna try and see if you remember anything?” Shiro suggests with a gentle smile but Keith can tell there’s a decent amount of anxiety buzzing under his skin.

Keith can only muster a nod. Part of him is scared–scared about what he may find, scared he may lose control, scared he may remember something he doesn’t want to. But he’s already made it this far, there’s no point in backing out now.

He starts with solid memories: hanging up pictures in his shack, making his bed on the couch (and still shivering through the night despite the several covers), cooking food out of unnamed cans (and watching Hunk cringe). Then the world starts to glitch, fading in his hands as his memories progress.

One second he’s building his heli-craft and the next he’s tinkering with something in Red. It doesn’t last long before going back to the heli-craft but he swears he remembers both.

He decides to push himself; grabbing onto some more distasteful memories. He’s sitting in class at the Garrison, staring out the window from the back of the room. The world shifts into a meeting with Coran and Allura; he’s equally as disinterested. They’re talking about something important but the words don’t cut through–he can’t remember them. Still, he does remember this moment.

He pushes himself some more. The world is raining down hard with young Memory Keith shivering down the night sidewalk. He has nothing to cover him other than his thin jacket, which is easily soaked beyond all else. He tilts his jacket to look up at the rain. Keith follows his line of sight and when he looks up he’s met with an Altean swimming pool on the ceiling. This memory is a lot more concrete than the previous ones. He remembers getting stuck in the elevator with Lance and eventually climbing out, he remembers the exhaustion he had felt beforehand, he remembers being disappointed but not surprised at the pool design, but he doesn’t remember what happened before or after this moment, not really.

This time, when Keith pushes himself, he may have pushed a little too hard because now he’s in a house he doesn’t remember existing, and yet it still incites a deeply rooted panic in his bones. The longer he stares the more petrified he feels. He’s young and small with his body pressed up against the weak wood door.

“Open the door!” A booming voice shouts. Keith freezes, forgetting to breathe.

“No! You left me!” Little Keith shouts from the other side, his arms shaking.

“God! I knew I shouldn’t’ve taken your case. You’re such a pain in the ass!” He sounds angry. It sounds familiar. His fists are banging against the door, shaking Keith back and forth.

“You said you’d be back 2 days ago!” Keith watches tears well up in the kids face– his face. 

The man bangs against the door harder, rougher, stronger. The door is second away from busting off the hinges when the world shifts to a different moment. Keith is stuffed in a Galra storage room, holding the door shut while several sentries are trying to shoot through it on the other side. The breath of fresh air doesn’t last long before Keith’s shoved back into the memory with the monster on the other side.

“I’m gonna shoot the lock, so you best step back if you know what’s good for you.” The man warns him. Keith hesitates, clearly debating whether or not the man is lying, but suddenly the sound of a gun being cocked is heard and Keith’s small body rushes to hide behind a wall a few feet away.

Not even a moment later and a loud blast is heard from the front door, alongside the sound of cracking wood. An image of something similar happening on the Galra ship flashes before his eyes, but it doesn’t last. He wishes it would.

The man finds him quickly (not like there were many places to hide in the small house anyways). He corners Keith against the wall, shoving a finger against his chest and getting in his face.

“You’re such a brat, you know that? Why don’t you ever listen to what you’re told? You could’ve gotten shot. Is that what you want?” He growls at him.

“What do you care? You’re not my dad.” Keith bites back, his voice unwavering but his hands shaking.

“Is that what this is about?” The man scoffs at him. “You miss your cowardly fucking-”

“Fuck you!”

And suddenly he’s getting punched in the face.

The moment his fist collides with Keith’s face the world falls back into Keith being on the Galra ship. He now remembers this being a simple information collection mission, but he was clearing out the sentries. He’d already fended off a majority of the threats once they’d broken through the room, but one had managed to get a decent hook on his face. He pulls his knife out and stabs it into its neck, leaving a mess of clipped wires and stray electricity. He watches himself start to jog back to the group before suddenly stopping. Memory Keith turns to face Current Keith and everything fades around the edges. All the other paladins are gone as well, it’s just him and his memory.

“Are you ready to remember?” An echoey voice comes from Memory Keith.

“Yes.” Keith doesn’t hesitate.

“ Everything ?” The voice deepens in seriousness. Keith glances around, remembering the group of people waiting for him on the other side. Remembering the war he was meant to be fighting in.

“Everything.”

With that, Keith reaches up and removes the mind meld device from his head, setting it down on the floor beside him. He’s met with several hesitant eyes on him, obviously waiting for some sort of reaction. He knows they saw some things he wasn’t ready to show them–things he wasn’t even ready to see himself, but he knows they won’t push until he’s ready.

“Keith?” Shiro’s gentle voice speaks up. Keith hadn’t realized he’d actually been staring into nothingness and looks over at his surrogate brother.

“Yeah?” Keith dumbly shakes himself out of his haze.

“Do you…Do you remember? Do you know who we are?” Lance quickly asks. A small smile spreads across Keith’s face with a gentle nod.

“Yeah, I do.”

The others smile back, looking over at one another to ensure this was real before launching him into a hug, several limbs and hands grabbing to hold him close. He still feels so raw, emotions still buzzing against his skin, but at least it’s not in solitude.

“We’re glad to have you back, bud.” Hunk says to him, clearly (and poorly) holding back tears.

“Me too, me too.” Keith chuckles back, letting himself melt into their grasps. Any other time the feeling of so many hands on him may have sent him into a panic, but now he wants nothing more than to soak in the feeling. The smile across his face is unfamiliar but extremely welcomed. He can’t stop the bubbling joy in his chest nor does he want to. 

Once all the tears have seemed to subside and the holds are more grateful than desperate, Keith decides to finalize the bridge into familiarity with some sense of home. He turns to Lance and reaches his hands around to poke his head.

“So, the bonding moment, huh?”

Chapter Text

Liberating planets, Keith thinks, is arduous but extremely gratifying; especially now, since he’s meant to be leading the liberation efforts–leading the team . Fighting off fleets of enemy ships while maintaining the safety of civilians was not an easy task; leading four others through battle was even harder. Still, he pushes through. He manages.

The press conference that follows afterwards? Less manageable.

There’s something about the flashing lights and cacophony of voices and stupid questions and fake smiles that make him sick. A pit of nausea starts in his stomach, small, coiled, but insistent, a gnawing sense of wrongness and discomfort. Still, like he does on the battlefield, Keith pushes through. He manages.

“What is Voltron’s mission?” A voice stands out amongst the distorted mess. Keith chooses this one to answer and leans towards their microphone.

“Voltron’s mission is to defeat Zarkon and free the universe from the Galras reign.” He offers a polite fake smile at the end of his response, the type of smile that Lance and Allura had him practice over and over again until he was able to produce it without visible grimace or discomfort. (He still thinks it’s stupid, but he’ll trust anyone’s interpretation of norms more than his own. He knows he’s not exactly known for his social competence.)

“What’s the role of each paladin?” Another question floods in and Keith readjusts himself to answer it.

“The blue and yellow paladins form the legs–they’re the very foundation and support of Voltron. The green and red paladins form the arms–they’re the strength and power of Voltron. The black paladin forms the head and leads the team.” Keith answers the way he thinks Shiro would have wanted him to (because he knows responding with ‘To fight? Are you fucking stupid?’ is not very appropriate or much appreciated).

“What’s stopping someone from stealing your lions right now?” A harsh concern peaks through, earning several hums from others. Keith decides to open the gate for more serious questions through this one and hopes it’ll get some of the reporters off his back.

“Well, the lions only respond to their respective paladin. A stranger can’t control the lions in the same way I can’t control you.” His analogy causes a bit of feedback and confusion amongst the crowd and Keith winces at his choice of words. “Also, we track their locations.”

“What qualifies you to be the leader of Voltron? To defeat Zarkon?” A loud booming voice makes itself heard. Or maybe it was just a normal voice, but it bursts into Keith’s brain and bounces off the walls with such ferocity that it’s hard to ignore.

The answer? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

If anything, he’s the last person that should be leading Voltron. He’s not resourceful like Pidge, or reliable like Hunk, or friendly like Lance, or diplomatic like Allura, or wise like Coran. He’s impulsive and destructive and borderline idiotic. But the universe seems to think he’s the perfect fit, that he has some untapped potential he can unlock through great effort and large strides. He doesn’t know how to tell the universe it’s wrong and he just wants to be left alone. Maybe he could be a good leader one day, maybe even a great one, but not now, not today. There was still so much he didn’t understand and couldn’t do before he was ready to define himself, let alone his position of power.

“That was a choice by the Black Lion. The Black Lion chooses those with leadership qualities to pilot and guide Voltron.” He puts the blame on the stupid lions and stupid fate and doesn’t forget to add the stupid smile at the end.

“Is it true you’re part Galra?” A microphone pushes its way to the front and the other reports don’t make any efforts to stop it, nor do they make any more efforts to ask questions. Keith’s mouth goes dry and his heart stops beating for a moment. He doesn’t look to Allura to help because that’s not something a leader would do. A leader would already know the right words to say.

“Um, yes, but-”

Which, as it turns out, are not the right words to say.

The entire audience erupts in an outrage of voices and shouts and concerns and protests, the previous chaos expanding tenfold. He’s made a mistake and now he needs to deescalate it. 

“Is that why you haven’t defeated Zarkon yet?” And Keith hadn’t intended on starting with the ridiculous ones first nor indulging in those that frustrated him, but he wasn’t feeling particularly strong-willed at the moment.

“No, no, that has nothing to do with-” But they don’t care what he has to say, not really.

“How are we meant to trust you?”

“Because I’m not on their fucking side-”

“Do you enjoy taking lives from the enemy?”

“What the-”

“Are you working with the Galra?”

“No-”

“How can we be sure you’re not a monster, just like them?”

You can’t.

And maybe you shouldn’t.

Maybe Keith was a monster. What then? What would happen then? Would they lock him away forever? Would they torture him for answers he didn’t have? Would they be merciful and kill him quick and clean? It was in his blood, his DNA , he was crafted with the chemicals and molecules that curated tyranny and calamity and some twisted part of him, at least, was destined to show that.

Everything hits him all at once; every thought, every feeling, every bright light, every loud voice, it hits him all at once. The uproar blares, the voices distort, colors bleed together, and his mind buzzes with static, teetering on the edge of collapse.

He knows this feeling. He’s felt this way before. A few times, long ago when he didn’t know how to express his feelings in ways other than violence and the only contact in his phone was that of his case worker.

He thinks maybe there’s something in the air? Some weird hallucinogenic aroma that’s causing him to feel this way. Because he wasn’t losing control again. He couldn’t be. But the vision blurring around his edges is familiar and the way his mind starts to slip is something he’s definitely felt before.

He doesn’t see the point in fighting it. He lets all the noise muddle to a drone and all his sense of reality become fickle and dry. There’s a heavy weight on his chest and a tingling sensation at his fingertips; it spreads like static electricity, faint but invasive. He taps his fingers at his side, but nothing is there, the feeling is muted.

Suddenly a hand is on his shoulder. It doesn’t feel real. The contact doesn’t reach his skin or his muscles or his bone, it’s just there , like someone else was being touched and he’s forced to watch. His eyes slowly trail up to see Lance kindly talking to someone else. Lance’s eyes are sweet, and his mouth is moving but no words are coming out. He nods as some sort of response and smiles at the end, the kind of smile that doesn’t need practicing or force or reminding.

Keith’s mind goes completely blank. Nothing is coming in and nothing is going out. He’s simply existing, outside of his body, outside of space and time. He tries to open and close his hands into fists, but he’s forgotten his fingers aren’t his own. They tingle and twitch and fidget but they’re not his .

Lance is pushing his shoulders, he thinks. Or maybe it was Hunk? He can’t tell. Time is moving slow in short, jumbled pieces and he’s only getting the timeline in snippets, small bite sized moments that he can’t chew or digest.

He thinks his legs are moving. There are hands on him. The floor is getting close. He’s on the floor, he thinks. Laying on the ground. A face above him, looming and concerned. He stares back with wide eyes. He tries to move his hands, but he isn’t sure they’re doing anything. He moves his tongue around in his mouth to speak, trying to get something–anything–out there.

“Hhnnng.” Is all he manages out. The sound is small and fragile with no real meaning, but, at the very least, it’s his .

His body just feels so heavy, like each exhale is pulling him further and further into the floor, like his limbs are startling to melt into the metal below him.

He blinks. The act is slow, like the rest of the world: muted. He feels like his mind is falling asleep but the rest of his body is still awake and some deeply rooted part of himself still wants to move, to fight, to run , but this body isn’t his own to do so.

A cold rag is laid across his forehead. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling. The coldness is sharp and strong but it’s there , present on his body and he can actually feel it. It’s not much, but it’s enough to at least lessen the weight on his chest.

“There we go. Come on back.” A voice cuts through the white noise in Keith’s brain. He can’t tell who it is yet but the fact that he can hear it at all is a major feat. “That was a good idea, Pidge.”

“It won’t be enough. He’ll need other things to ground him.” A different voice explains.

And then there’s a hand grabbing his own, rubbing feeling back into his palm and fingers. Keith doesn’t have to open his eyes to know who it is. The hands are big and the skin is calloused, but the feeling is warm and the care is gentle.

It isn’t until the cool rag against his forehead turns lukewarm and sensation comes back to his fingers does Keith open his eyes. He’s met with a tall gray ceiling and bright fluorescent lights. He squints, trying to adjust to the blast of colors.

“Where’m I?” He slurs. A head pops over his own, blocking the light from reaching his eyes. He'd be thankful if it weren’t for the uneasy eyes staring down at him.

“Hallway. Didn’t make it very far.” Lance remarks, visibly unbothered to the entire situation.

Keith tilts his head enough to gauge who’s with him: Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. He assumes Allura and Coran are diffusing whatever diplomatic mess Keith just created. It’s then that all the negative feelings start to swarm his body.

“They’re not negative feelings, Keith.” He remembers his state mandated therapist telling him.

“Then what exactly are they?”

“They’re just feelings. Reactions and emotions. Things everyone feels.” She made it sound so simple. Keith remembers envying her for that.

“What if that’s all I feel?” He had asked back.

“I don’t think that’s true.” She had smiled at him. He wonders if she had to practice her smiles too, or if genuinity and benevolence came to her naturally. 

“It feels true.” Keith insisted.

“I want you to do something for me: every time you’re feeling something and you’re able to identify what emotion you’re feeling, I want you to write it down. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

With the hand not being held by Hunk, Keith taps his fingers against his thigh and starts tracing letters, ‘S-H-A-M-E’ he writes over and over again.

“You back with us?” Lance’s voice interrupts.

“Mmm.” Keith hums in acknowledgement. He’s sure that he’s able to talk now, but there’s a sudden heavy exhaustion that takes over him and it makes him not want to. He feels so tired and his eyelids are so heavy and given enough time he’s sure he’d fall asleep right there in the hallway.

“C’mon, bud. Up and at ‘em.” Lance and Hunk start to help him up. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

His legs feel like jelly, but they feel like his jelly legs. He wobbles when he stands and Hunk steadies him best he can. Keith resists the urge to reach out and grab both boys' shoulders to help him walk, because they’ve already done so much and given so much and Keith can’t take anymore from them–he doesn’t have much to give back. Still, Hunk keeps a hand on his back and Keith would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it.

The lounge is closer than the medbay or Keith’s room, so they decide to drop him off there. They sit him down and it takes every bit of self-control not to lay down and bury himself in the cushions, hoping the vastness of space would swallow him whole and never give him back. Instead, the others sit nearby, completely negating the possibility of him stretching out and melting into oblivion.

“ Fuck. ” Keith exhales, leaning his head back against the couch and starting at the ceiling. He starts to trace letters on his thigh again, ‘G-U-I-L-’ before he stops himself, clenching his fist.

“You’re alright. That was totally unprofessional on their end. They can’t ask some of those questions. You did the best you could.” Pidge gently assures him.

“I can’t believe I…” Keith trails off. His cheeks start to burn and his heart races with embarrassment. He wants to close his eyes and cover his ears and pretend like he’s somewhere else, he wants God to strike him with lightning, he wants the ceiling to collapse on him and him alone.

“It’s fine, man. Seriously.” Lance joins in.

“I really wasn’t trying to- They’re gonna think- I’m s-” But he doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence.

“Please don’t. You don’t need to apologize.”

But he does .

He does need to apologize.

But he’d never expect them to understand that. They’d never understand profuse apologies for breaking a plate, or gentle pleas of forgiveness for sneaking a snack from the cupboard, or the constant stream of ‘please’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I’m really sorry’ he needed to express for nothing other than being himself.

Because he needed to apologize. How else was he meant to stay? Why else would they keep him around? How else would they know he plans on getting better and being better and never making the same mistake twice?

He needs to apologize for who he is–who he’s become. He thinks his younger self wouldn’t have wanted this. If his past-self found out he finally escaped the system and the homes and the hunger only to be met with insatiable anger, he'd be disappointed. He used to dream of being free and wild and loving life, and now that he was free, he was still angry, still broken. He fears he’s left hell only to bring with him wherever he goes.

He needs to apologize because what was the alternative? Anger? How could he feel angry when they’d been nothing but kind to him. They didn’t deserve his jagged edges or rough patches. No, they deserved something much sweeter and mild than what he had to offer.

And for that, he’s sorry.

“Allura and Coran have it all under control, I’m sure.” Hunk says gently and Keith doesn’t need to look to know he’s giving one of his signature empathetic smiles.

But Keith doesn’t care if Allura or Coran have it under control, not really. He cares that they had to fix his mess to begin with. He tries not to think about it too hard.

“‘M tired.” Keith announces, finally closing his eyes.

“Oh, you wanna lay down?” Lance suggests and Keith only nods. If he had the energy he likely would have snapped ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ or something similar, but the words don’t make it past his lips.

The others move off the couch so Keith can get comfortable. The moment Keith’s head hits the cushions he feels his eyelids droop. Someone is kind enough to drape a blanket over him and another takes off his shoes, but he doesn’t muster the energy to thank them. 

He expects them to leave. Maybe a part of him wants them to leave? Or, rather, he expects it? But they don’t. They stay. They stay and Keith isn’t sure if he’s worth all this effort. Someone is sitting at the end of his feet, whispering to another person plopped down on the floor, and someone else is sitting by his head, pulling his blanket up to his shoulders and pushing his hair out of his face.

He wants to be angry. He wants to be angry so badly, but he can’t. He’s not. That’s not how he feels. It would be easier if he felt that way, but he’s not even close. 

It doesn’t feel like the other emotions, the ones he doesn’t like to feel, the ones he’s not meant to put derogatory labels on nor diminish. He feels warm. Not a red angry warmth, but a soft and gentle warmth. It’s something he hasn’t felt very often but he knows he’s felt it before, at some point. He doesn’t have much time to ponder it further before rest is rapidly consuming him. It doesn’t come fast enough and Keith has just enough time to take the feeling and etch it into his thigh. He prays that it covers up all the other feelings he wrote there. He prays that it’ll melt into his skin forever. He traces it over and over again and hopes that when he wakes up he’ll still feel that way.

S-A-F-E