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Since the beginning, they had had a sort of mind-link when forming Voltron. Five people couldn’t have functioned as one entity if they didn’t, it would have made piloting the giant-robot-lion-man nearly impossible. It was weird, but it made sense (as much as anything made sense, nowadays), and they were willing to just let it happen.
What was really weird was when the telepathy thing didn’t stop after they disassembled. Every time they formed Voltron, the bond lasted longer and longer and grew stronger and stronger.
After battles, it was almost overwhelming. Coming down from the adrenaline high was intense enough as it was, but having that within yourself along with the same feeling from four other people? It was like being blackout intoxicated and getting hit by a truck at the same time. It was powerful.
They stumbled out of their Lions, victorious and exhausted and just a little bit punch-drunk, adrenaline and euphoria blurring their minds together within the bond. Shiro staggered but Lance was already there, tucking himself under one arm and leaning back against his leader. Pidge had climbed up Hunk’s back, clinging like a koala, while Hunk petted Keith’s hair, mumbling semi-incoherent praise at some maneuver or other that the Red Paladin had pulled off in the fight. Keith had his face buried in Hunk’s chest, his ears burning brilliant red, but he was slowly learning to accept praise and compliments. It didn’t hurt that he could feel Hunk’s honesty through the bond, know that he wasn’t just saying these things.
The Blue and Black Paladins approached the cluster, and Hunk opened one arm, keeping the other around Keith. Shiro and Lance needed contact after fights, especially if the bond was still heightened like this. They all did, really, but Lance was used to people and Shiro needed reminding of people, that his people were alright. They all did, now, so post-battle time usually saw all the Paladins piled together on a couch or nested in a blanket fort, coming down from combat and mind-meld and reminding themselves, physically, mentally, vocally, that they were okay, that the others were okay.
Maybe the blankets had already been on the couch, or maybe Coran had added them in anticipation of just this. The Paladins separated just long enough to briefly wash and change into comfortable clothes before recollecting in the common area. They piled together close as skin, except for where Hunk’s shoulder was bruised from hitting it against Yellow’s cockpit during a sharp turn, and where Pidge’s wrist had twisted from the force of impact against the shield during the fight. Shiro’s arm was gentle, settling over Hunk’s back without bumping the bruise – he knew where it was, just as easily as if it had been his own skin. Lance curled himself around Pidge’s side without jostling their wrist, and Keith pressed one knee to the Blue Paladin’s free side while leaning against Shiro, knowing exactly where to put pressure and where to avoid on his right arm and side. They all did, now.
Later, the bond would fade back into a sort of background buzz, a connection but not the overwhelming fusion it was right now. Allura and Coran assured them it was normal for the Paladins to experience surges in the connection like this, that it was normal for them to sometimes not notice anything and then for everyone to feel the pain of a stubbed toe that wasn’t theirs.
It came in helpful. Nobody woke up from nightmares alone anymore, and sometimes they could even be stopped if someone noticed early enough. In the kitchen Hunk only had to ask for an ingredient every once in a while – half the time it was already waiting in an outstretched hand. It was the same when Pidge was working on the Lions; whoever was helping usually knew what they needed before they ever spoke the words. It was more of a challenge during training when you could predict your opponent’s moves and they yours, but that just made them all that much better.
Later, the bond would fade back. For now, the five might as well have still been Voltron, still been a single entity. Their minds were melded, their bodies pressed close. They breathed as one.
The five-Lion robot may have disassembled for now, but the Paladins were still Voltron.