Chapter Text
Adrenalin, determination, spite.
Those were the three things keeping Keith conscious right now. He tried to make himself as small as possible, hidden between storage crates which were covered in technical descriptions in Galran script. Keith couldn't read Galran very well yet, so he had no idea what he was hiding behind. He just hoped it wasn't explosive.
He'd scoured the room for any vents or air control systems, to no avail. Although he was sure he was at the outer edge of the base, there was no air intake or even a door to the outside world, and the vents in the roof were too small for him. He wouldn't be able to stay here long. It was only a matter of time before this room was searched too, before they saw his heat signature or smelled blood or whatever Galra and their robots used to find people, and he'd have to fight his way out again. And the only way out of this room was also the only way in.
This sucked.
Still, the moment of peace gave him time to bind any injuries that were still bleeding and contemplate his terrible, terrible decisions. Even if thinking hurt his head right now. His helmet sat beside him, blackened and cracked in a way that made him glad his skull had been protected. Any communication happening between Lance and the rest of the paladins was rendered as just static growls thanks to the damage, but the last thing he'd heard was their ETA. He just needed to last that long. He could do that. He was just stunned (stunned sounded better than concussed, even if he did want to throw up a bit) and suffering from a bit of blood loss and burning right now. Besides, who was here to argue with his self-assessment?
He hoped Lance was still OK. This whole sabotage mission had been Keith's idea, and if Lance had ended up where Keith was now, or if Lance had died here because of Keith's decision...
Keith would have been able to live with himself if Lance was killed because of him, but only because he'd have no other choice. He would still hate himself every day. For that one selfish reason alone, making sure Lance had the time to get out of here was the right decision.
Lance probably didn't see it that way, but that was fine. If Keith could hold out until the rest of Voltron made it, he might even get to hear all about it.
Keith flinched back upright suddenly as a noise rang out somewhere within the base and echoed through the hallways. Every ache protested the movement, and Keith's mind scrabbled to catch up. Did he fall asleep for a moment? Was he blacking out? Keith wasn't sure which was worse. He needed every edge he could get right now; this was not the time for his adrenaline to crash.
Above, the sound of nearby thunder rumbled, echoed by a savage, mechanical roar.
Keith gasped, a rush of hope flooding into him so fast it nearly knocked him over. That had to be the twister cannon firing at a Lion. That meant... the team had arrived! Had he made it? Was the rest of Voltron here? Had they arrived faster than expected, or had he actually passed out for that long? That was worrying...
Keith pulled himself upright and jammed his helmet back onto his head, switching the sound off. Rescue was close, so close. He just needed to get to it.
Sirens wailed, explosions rocked the foundations of the base and made the floor shake, and Keith was having trouble focusing on anything in particular as he peered out into the hallway. Everything was noise and confusion, and then suddenly there was a single moment of...
Silence...
Followed by the echoing boom of something powerful exploding.
Keith ducked instinctively in the doorway, half expecting the base to fall down on him. The walls moved with the sound, flexing but not breaking under the strain of it. After a tick, he peered cautiously out into the hallway, arms still covering his head.
All clear. Time to get out of here.
Keith took a right turn, trying to listen for approaching soldiers as he made his way unsteadily up the hall, but any sound was drowned out by the sudden scream of rending metal and blaster fire that echoed from somewhere just ahead of him. Keith ducked into another doorway, straining to listen over the sound of blood rushing around his head. When that didn't work he peered around the door frame to get a visual on whoever was approaching.
Against the fiery glow of destroyed metal and molten electronics stood a figure far too short to be a Galra, clad in blue and white armour. Keith leaned against the door, willing himself to stand up and step out to meet Lance before relief robbed him of his ability to move. Lance was here. Keith was going to be OK. Lance was OK.
Lance bolted towards Keith as soon as he stepped out, his bayard shrinking back to its hand-held variant as he reached Keith. Just in time to catch him as his vision went black.
Keith became aware of the floor first. There was metal beneath most of his body, aside from something much softer under his head. That led to the second thing he became aware of - his armour and helmet had been removed, leaving him in just the black under-armour suit.
The third thing was a toss-up between pain and nausea. Every muscle screamed of over-exertion and all the places over his body where something had managed to break through the body suit were covered in something that stung like hell, which Keith figured meant that at least it was probably good for him. However, all of that was minor compared to the throbbing headache he had.
Sound eventually permeated his mind through the haze of pain, and Keith took a moment to be pleased that at least nose didn't make his head hurt worse.
"-isn't the same thing, and you damn well know it." He heard Lance grumble. Lance was here too then. Was he already back at the castle? No - the sound was wrong. The echo spoke of a much smaller room, and the rumble of the ship around him was definitely more consistent with a Lion than the castle itself.
He heard what sounded like a grumble that ran along the edges of his mind but didn't penetrate the bubble that had settled uncomfortably around all his thoughts. It didn't sound like the radio... actually, it didn't sound like sound, now that Keith thought about it.
Thinking hurt.
"Hey, I know - How about you stop bitching at me?"
There was a growled response that Keith couldn't quite hear through the haze of ouch that his head had become.
"Yeah, well these 'Meat Bags' pilot your damn ass around space, show a little respect." Lance replied sharply to the unheard argument. Who the hell was Lance talking to?
Another grumbled growl managed to push harder against that mental bubble. Because it wasn't sound, like Lance's voice was. That growl was inside his head.
"Okay, on behalf of all humans everywhere, you can bite me, you... crabby space cat."
Lance was arguing. Lance was arguing with... uh...
"Oh my stars, fine! If I say it, will you stop arguing with me and pick up the damned pace so we can get your idiot pilot into a healing pod already?!"
Keith carefully opened his eyes and immediately shut them as the red glare of his Lion's cockpit assaulted his retina. Sound might not make his brain hurt worse, but light sure as hell did.
That confirmed it though. Lance was talking to Keith's Lion. More accurately, Lance was having an argument with Keith's lion.
But that would mean that Lance could hear Red.
That presence that hovered on the outside of his thoughts focused on him, a moment of heat and fire assaulting his brain before it dialled back to a gentle warmth. He heard Lance gasp, then some clicks and slides as Lance switched something on at the controls before leaping out of the pilot’s chair to run over to him.
"Keith! Keith, you awake?" Lance all but yelled in Keith's face before a gentle hand pushed his hair off of his forehead. "If you can hear but can't answer, a thumbs up will do."
Lance's hands were cool and soft, pushing back the pain in his head where they touched him.
"Please don't shout," Keith managed, voice rough and slurred. He opened his eyes a sliver, using his eyelashes to shield himself from the worst of the glare.
Lance's face swam blurry in his vision, back-lit by the red lights of his Lion. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but the relieved sigh and visible sagging of Lance's shoulders gave Keith a pretty good idea.
"Thank quiznak," Lance mumbled before saying louder "Guys, Keith's awake."
'Conscious.' Red purred gently in his mind. Keith sent a thought to confirm that he at least partially agreed with that statement.
"Keith! Keith can you hear me?" Hunk's voice said from the dashboard, drowning out Pidge's smaller "Please tell me that he's okay."
"Yesh," Keith rasped in reply to both, blinking a few more times against the light.
"Keith," Shiro's said, sounding tired and relieved. "Glad you're alright."
"As am I," Allura added. "For both of you."
Keith scrunched his eyes firmly shut and decided not to say anything that might contradict that assessment.
"Red, tone it down in here a bit." Lance instructed as he rummaged around under the pilot’s chair.
'Fornicate with a black hole.' Red responded, dimming the lights to a more comfortable level.
"Screw you too, buddy," Lance said conversationally as he helped Keith sit up a little, despite his body's protests. Lance eyed Keith's head and body with obvious displeasure.
"We're going to need to have a chat about you pulling stuff like that in the middle of a firefight once you're all put back together." Lance grumbled. Keith took the chance to run an assessment of his own. Lance was still in his full armour, but he looked pretty banged up too. He had a piece of bandaging or a fabric pad duct-taped over a cut on one arm, as well as some dried blood on his lip and forehead. His suit was covered in blaster marks and burns, bits of fabric torn away in some places to reveal burns where a shot had cut through to skin.
"You look... like shit." Keith managed, carefully trying not to slur when he spoke.
"I think you mean 'Hot Shit' there, since I'm the dude that dragged your ass out of the fire." Lance responded with a cheesy grin, pulling something out of the bag he'd grabbed from under the chair.
"No-ooo, just regular shit." Keith managed.
Red's laughter rumbled across his mind like a heard of tiny wildebeest. Keith winced.
'Apology.' Red chuckled at him.
"Keep it down, he's probably rattled his brain" Lance said to the cockpit before turning his focus back to Keith. "That's real rich coming from you, Mr. Kettle." Lance grumbled. Keith watched Lance in confusion.
"My last name isn't Kettle," Keith pointed out.
"No, I was referencing the proverb - you know, that one about pots and kettles and not calling each other stupid?" Lance tried to explain. Keith considered just falling asleep again to avoid trying to work out what cookware had to do with anything. Lance threw his hands up dramatically. "Whatever. Pidge, step me through these checks again."
Pidge began reciting a series of questions to see what kind of injuries Keith had (definitely a concussion, as it turned out. Wonderful), while Lance relayed any answers back that required anything more complicated than a yes or no. Lance was moving around the cockpit with ease, making sure Keith was settled and had water and a bucket before returning to the pilot’s seat to bring Red into the castle.
Keith let himself relax back, waiting for the jealousy or anger or... well, some kind of negative emotion to hit him at physical proof that Lance could, and indeed was piloting the Red Lion. Lance was acting so casual about it, trading insults like it wasn't something huge that Red even allowed Lance to hear them. It took everyone such a long time to be able to get more defined concepts from their own Lions, and here Lance was holding elaborate arguments with Keith's Lion within hours of being inside Red for the first time.
Maybe it was the concussion talking, but a warm feeling filled Keith with such force that it was almost painful, and Keith couldn't stop smiling. Lance had somehow convinced Red to let him pilot them, specifically to save Keith. Red had let Lance connect with them well enough that they could exchange insults. Lance was so obviously worried for Keith that he seemed almost delighted for the chance to argue with anyone right now, rather than let his mind ply him with worst-case scenarios.
Keith let out a long, relieved breath, face already hurting from the grin. He was alive. Everyone was alive and OK.
He was going to throw up.
There was a stretcher waiting for Keith in the central hanger when Lance helped him out of his Lion. That kind of seemed like overkill to Keith, but since the other option seemed to be being carried bridal style by Coran, Keith decided to allow it. It gave him a good place to watch the Yellow and Black Lions carefully land with the damaged Blue Lion between them.
Blue didn't look good at all, and Keith wondered how long it would take to repair the damage. He also wondered, not for the first time, how Lance had been OK after that crash. Keith had been terrified for a moment that the last thing he'd hear from Lance was a choked scream followed by horrible silence. That his last words might be "I don't know, but it kind of looks like the inside of a jelly doughnut. Or jelly, I guess."
No one's last words should be doughnut based. Although, if anyone's last words were going to be about doughnuts, Lance was a pretty good candidate.
Yeah, getting checked out was probably a good idea. Keith's thoughts were kind of getting away from him.
Lance was still standing by Red, watching the landing with a sad expression. He turned away from Keith and carefully placed a hand on Red's nose, a gesture that made Keith want to smile again.
Suddenly, a roar split the air. Coran flinched violently behind Keith, nearly tipping him off of the stretcher in the process.
"What the blazes!" Coran shouted. Keith would have echoed the sentiment had he not been trying his best not to fall off of the stretcher.
He looked up just in time to see the Blue Lion surge forwards, back legs still not completely under their control yet from the look of things. It was almost comical, except for the fact that the Blue Lion was heading straight for Red. Blue raised a large metal paw to slap at the Red Lion's head. Red recoiled with the force, shaking their head before turning to snarl at The Blue Lion.
"Hey, whoa! Okay, that's enough of that." Lance shouted, racing between them both. Because of course Lance would try to break up a fight between two giant robot lions by physically getting between them.
Idiot.
"Blue, chill! What's gotten into you, beautiful?" The idiot in question called up to his Lion.
Blue made a low, dissatisfied grumble before slumping to the side and turning her head away from Lance.
Keith couldn't hear her response, but whatever it was, it had Lance sputtering.
"Oh come on! It was an emergency! You were injured, I was injured - it was a bad time all around." He exclaimed, waving his arms around.
Blue audibly grumbled again in response. Behind Keith, Coran began laughing.
"You know you're my number one. Hey, I'll make it up to you, OK? I promise." Lance cajoled. Blue seemed to relent a little.
"Walked right into that one." Coran exclaimed with delight, carefully wheeling Keith out of the hanger.
"Um. Is the Blue Lion... jealous?" Keith asked before immediately deciding that the idea was just ridiculous. The Blue Lion was a huge robot that could transform into part of a larger robot. With Red. They were one body sometimes. How could a leg be jealous of an arm?
And anyway, robots didn't get jealous. Right?
"Maybe a little bit," Coran responded brightly. "Mostly I think they just want Lance to be focused on them again."
Ah. Apparently, Blue was a special snowflake of a robot. That made sense.
"I know I'm going to regret asking," Keith began, stretching his arms above his head. "But why does Blue have two stripes running along their sides?"
The castle had landed on an inhabitable planet while Blue was under repair, or healing, or however Allura worded it. Keith felt a bit like he'd been "under repair" too, having been thrown into a healing pod once Coran had genetically sampled him and checked him over for anything that might interfere with the healing process.
Which was exactly the kind of comforting thought you wanted just before you were placed in a piece of alien tech.
Ostensibly they were out on the planet's surface giving the Lions a run, making sure Blue was completely back in working order and able to form Voltron. Keith couldn't help but think that the check was as much for him as it was for Blue, to make sure there were no lasting effects from being shot in the head.
Lance stood beside him, staring up at Blue with a pleased expression. Hunk lay on the ground beside them both, almost asleep, while Pidge and Shiro sat off to one side, Shiro nodding indulgently as Pidge spoke.
"Well, Blue was in need of a little love, y'know?" Lance said, with a broad smile, "So I decided to give her racing stripes."
Keith blinked at Lance. Lance hadn't been podded, so he still had some cuts and marks. Most were well hidden by the newly repaired paladin armour.
"Racing stripes," Keith repeated, just to make sure he heard correctly.
"Apparently they'll make her go faster." Pidge shouted over to them.
"How did you even hear that from over there?" Lance called back, walking towards the green and black paladins. Keith tuned out the ensuing bickering to look back up at Blue.
Keith smiled. Maybe they wouldn't make her go faster, but they looked cool. Would Red like stripes, he wondered? He looked over to where his Lion stood, already planning to ask on the way home.
Then Red... well, Keith was almost certain that Red winked at him. Which was demonstrably not possible, because Red had no eyelids. Still, Red definitely winked.
That was all the warning Keith got before Red pounced, dropping their chest and head to the ground and carefully scooping Lance up into his mouth before turning and running off, towards the sun.
A short, surprised shout came from Pidge, startling Hunk enough that he flung himself into a seated position. Even Shiro could only stared blankly as Blue roared and gave chase, in pursuit of Red and their captive Paladin.
"Uh... Lance?" Shiro asked his helmet.
Lance's voice came over the coms as a series of oofs and ouches, followed by a calmer "Okay, hold on - right, I'm OK guys."
Shiro looked at his helmet in confusion. "So... do you want to bring the Lion's back? Any time you're ready would be good."
"Right! OK, let’s turn around here." Lance replied. There was a brief pause, in which Keith could hear the sound of roaring in the distance. "Red, stop this. Turn around now!" Pause. "Yes, yes I want you to turn!" Pause. "No, not like... that's an aileron roll!" Pause. "Because I know my aerial manoeuvres, ass." Pause. "Don't you dare try telling me I'm using the wrong controls!"
Keith was pretty sure he was going to die laughing.