Chapter Text
It had been chaos, right after. Keith’s memories of leaving his lion, and rushing to Shiro’s were blurry. Keith remembered screaming at Allura that they needed to go back, that Shiro had somehow been ejected from his lion, that the Galra were going to find him. Coran had been defensive, protective of Allura, while Allura staggered suddenly, going limp in Lance’s arms, yet again. The other paladins looked on in fear and weary anguish.
Coran set them down somewhere, and made Allura rest. Meanwhile, the other paladins tried to process what had happened. Keith tried, anyway. There was so much. Thace’s sacrifice, the buzzing remains of whatever than Quintessence draining blast had done to them and their lions, and the magnitude of what they hoped they’d done. And pulsing through it all, at least for Keith, was the fact that Shiro was… gone. Missing. Again.
And the worst part was that there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t go back and search that area of space, because Allura couldn’t open a wormhole right now. He couldn’t scan blips of Shiro’s armor frequency, or try to find his arm’s signal in countless transmissions, like Pidge and Hunk were doing (along with Slav as much as they could stand him). They had also been listening to any Galra broadcasts they could pick up, searching for any news of the Champion being caught again, of Voltron being weakened, or any news of Zarkon’s condition. According to them, it’s been radio silence on all fronts.
It all made Keith grit his teeth. Feeling useless, he’d been training until the buzzing weariness in his limbs had been replaced with sore aches instead. He fought the gladiators until his sword fell from his twitchy fingers three times in a row, before he called it quits, shaking out his wrists.
None of it was doing anything to silence his churning mind. He hadn’t told anyone about Shiro’s words to him. No one had been in the position to hear the contingency plan that Shiro had thought up. He didn’t know if Allura knew that Shiro wanted Keith to lead after him, but she was still bedridden, and not very awake most of the time, and Keith wasn’t about to inform her. As long as she was out of commission, they were in limbo.
So, he went down to the Lion’s hanger. It wasn't the first time, and he sat and stared at the Black Lion’s still figure, watching her for the slightest flicker of... well, anything. Looking at her, Keith couldn't shake the feeling that... she knew what it happened to Shiro. That she knew where he was, and how he could return, but she wasn't telling.
“C’mon kitty,” Keith said, frustration thick in his throat. “Let me in. You did before.”
She sat, as regal as ever, barrier still up. Keith leaned forward over his crossed legs, planting his aching head into his palm. Who was he kidding, she wasn’t going to let him in. He wasn’t supposed to be the Black Paladin, and he didn’t want to be. Red was in his mind, humming distantly, but he couldn’t tell if she was upset or approving. Keith groaned a little.
“What do you mean, she’s let you in before?” said an unwelcome voice over his shoulder, and Keith turned to see Lance coming closer. His hackles rose. He’d been avoiding Lance for this very reason - everything he said seemed to annoy Keith more and more, without Shiro around to temper their interactions.
“Go away, Lance,” Keith muttered, and Lance straightened up, affronted.
“Geez, chill out, man,” he said. “I was just coming to get you for dinner, since you’ve been all lurky down here lately.”
“I’m not hungry,” Keith said, unwilling to lose at his game of chicken… against a giant sentient robot.
“Uh, yeah, you are. You haven’t eaten since dinner last night. Don’t think I didn’t notice you throwing your lunch plate away.”
“I’m fine, Lance, just leave me alone.”
Lance huffed, and came around him, standing in front of him, seated on the ground. He put his hands on his hips, and leaned over him condescendingly.
“Nuh uh. Now you wanna tell me what you meant, and why you’re staring at the Black Lion like that?”
Keith grit his teeth. “Lance…” Keith growled, and Lance frowned hard, looking back and forth between him and the lion.
“It’s almost like you’re… why are you trying to bond with Black?”
Keith couldn’t stay seated anymore, and came to his feet, folding his arms and turning away.
“Whatever, I’ll come to dinner now, so just forget it.
Lance circled him, facing him again, and poking a finger into his chest.
“You’re not telling me something. Do you- do you know something about where Shiro went?”
Keith dropped his arms at Lance’s honest, baffled, hurt, and shook his head.
“No.” He let out a breath, and gestured to the Lion. “She might though. And I- I thought maybe I could find out what.”
Lance tilted his head.
“But how’re you supposed to talk to Black. She’s not your lion. It’s not like I could just go up to Red, and ask for a peek inside her mind, right?”
Keith dropped his eyes.
“I may have piloted her once before. I wondered if trying again would get her to say where Shiro was, but she won’t let me in.”
Lance nodded along, and then froze, before windmilling his arms. “Wait, wait, wait! Back up! You’ve piloted Black? When? Did you and Shiro play musical lions or something?”
Keith huffed in annoyance. “It was when he was injured on that planet, after the wormhole split us up.”
“Seriously?” Lance demanded, frowning. “And you didn’t think to mention this?!”
Keith bristled. “It was a life or death moment! And a lot of stuff happened since then!” Then, Keith faltered. “But...”
Lance raised one eyebrow, prompting. “But?”
Keith growled again, and ran a hand down his face. “But, Shiro may have said that if anything ever happened to him, I was supposed to lead Voltron…”
Keith opened his eyes in time to see Lance’s eyes widen in hurt, before quickly switching to anger.
“You?!” Lance said, sounding far too incredulous. “Oh yeah, that’s a great idea! Let’s put the hothead, impulsive, mullet head in charge of Voltron!”
His tone made Keith’s hackles rise.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith demanded. Anger was flushing out every other emotion, and Lance was making himself a good target. “Shiro obviously thought I could handle it!”
Lance got in his face, nose to nose. “Well, I think Shiro just picked you cause you’re his favorite, and not because he actually thought about who would make the best leader!”
“What, and you think you could do a better job?”
“Maybe!” Lance said up in his face. “Maybe Shiro is wrong.”
“He is not!” Keith yelled, and Keith might have punched him then and there, except that the Black Lion growled. It reverberated around the room, and startled both of them. It was the most movement or sound that had come from Black since they’d found her cockpit empty, and Keith stared up at her.
Lance muttered “Whatever,” and left the way he came.
“Girl?” Keith asked, but there was silence again. Her shield was still firmly in place. Keith pressed his hand against it, then his fist.
“C’mon,” he muttered, chest tight. “Come on, come on!”
No amount of pounding would get her to lower it.
Eventually, Keith slumped backwards from the barrier and swallowing thickly. Frustration was pulsing under his skin. All he wanted was to find Shiro - to help in some way to find out where he was, or if he was alive. Keith clenched his fists. He couldn’t lost hope, he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.
But what was he supposed to do? At least the first time Shrio had disappeared, taken by the Galra while Keith was back on Earth, Keith had had his research, the trails he could follow. He had something. Here… he had nothing.
Keith went back to the training room, to find that the door wouldn’t open. Keith jerked the handle and shoved his shoulder against the panels, but they wouldn’t budge.
Keith made a frustrated noise, and kicked the door, hard enough to jar his toes (inside his regular boots, and not the armor). He was willing to bet it was Lance who had locked the door, or had asked someone to code it for him. He’d either asked Hunk, or bribed Pidge. Either way, there was no way Keith could force himself in.
“Argh!” Wheeling around, Keith stalked towards the main airlock, currently serving as just a door since they were grounded on a breathable planet. The moon Coran had found, hidden deep from any Galra occupied space, was uninhabited and barren, save for scraggly trees that only grew to waist height. Scans showed the largest creature here was no bigger than a house cat. And since they were allowed outside, Keith was going to take advantage of that. After all, Lance hadn’t factored in that he could actually train in places other than the training room. So there.
*~*~*~*
Lance stalked away from the Lion’s hangers, arms folded tightly in front of him, and jaw tight. No, don’t mind him, he’s just trying to watch out for the team, since apparently no one in the whole castle could take care of themselves. Allura was the only one resting, and that was only because Coran was watching her so closely he’d practically tied her to the bed. Lance had had to nag and wheedle Pidge into sleeping, drag Hunk away from tech stuff every once in awhile, and dammit, he was trying to get Keith to eat, but that pigheaded… obstinate… argh!
And Shiro wanted to make him the leader?! The guy who’d train until he fell over and then train some more? Speaking of…
Lance detoured from his aimless pacing towards the work room where Pidge, Hunk, and Slav had set up shop. Lance stood in the doorway for a moment, watching his friends feverishly work to find Shiro, in the way only they could. The trouble was, there were just no leads. They didn’t know if he’d been captured, or just lost in space, or if he was in another realm entirely, but they couldn’t go back to search. It broke Lance’s heart, but it was just too dangerous to go back to that small section of space, unless they knew what they were looking for, and could get in and out quick. Plus with Allura still down, there really was no way to get there. Regardless, the Galra were still a threat, and until they could confirm, well, anything, this was the way it had to be.
Lance hoped Pidge or Hunk would find something. But if they didn’t… well, they couldn’t hang around waiting for much longer. Lance hoped he could convince his friends of that.
Leaning on the door frame, Lance rapped his knuckles on the metal.
“Yo, Hunk, my buddy o’ pal,” he said, trying to inject some liveliness into his voice when all he felt was tired, petty, jealousy.
“Yeah, what, Lance?” Hunk said, not looking up. Lance felt his will to make an effort thin further, and his annoyance at Keith, and everyone, get closer to the surface.
“I need your help with something,” Lance said. Hunk still didn’t look up, but he did raise his piece of tech so he was semi-facing Lance behind his alien safety goggles.
“Can’t it wait, Lance, I’m kinda in the middle of something?”
“Yeah, go bug Keith or something,” Pidge interjected, and Lance’s patience twanged.
“This is about Keith! That stupid mullet brain is going to lay himself lower than Allura, and no one is stopping him. He hasn’t eaten for over a day, you guys!”
Slav, who’d been silent up to now, eight elbows deep in some unidentifiable mechanical thing that somehow managed to look like a karaoke machine, spoke up.
“Actually, Lance is right. In 47 realities, Keith dies of starvation!”
Alarm shot through Keith, and he held out his arms dramatically.
“See!”
Slav continued. “Of course, in some of those, he lives in a post-apocalyptic society, where food is scarce! Or there’s the one where he gets trapped in a hole-”
Pidge interrupted, pointing at Slav. “See, Slav says it would take extraordinary circumstances to kill Keith. So he’s fine, now go away,”
Lance held up a finger. “That’s not what he said-”
Hunk finally put down his thing and looked at the group with tired eyes.
“Lance, you’ve already nagged us all to death today. What is it?”
Lance felt his chest tighten, and he bit his lip. Everyone was stressed and exhausted, he reminded himself. Even Hunk.
“I just wanted to lock him out of the training room. So at least he can’t kill himself on a gladiator…”
Hunk let out a huge sigh, and stood, grabbing an all-purpose tool. “Yeah, okay,”
Lance swallowed, and trailed along after Hunk quietly. Hunk made quick work of the door, and then turned around to see Lance’s downcast eyes. It was the first time he’d really looked at him, and Lance hated the jarred surprise that flashed through his eyes.
“Oh, Lance…” Hunk murmured, taking up a little more of his energy to console Lance. Letting out a short breath, Lance straightened up, and tried to wipe the hurt and tiredness off his face.
“It’s fine, man. We’re all wiped…” Lance said. Hunk put his arm around Lance’s neck, and even the hug was too much, at the same time that it was more than needed. Lance breathed in ozone and the alien grease that on Hunk was somehow familiar and not at the same time.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Hunk muttered, before he let go, and slumped off back towards the work room. Lance watched him go, before letting out a huge breath. Keep on keeping on, that was Lance.
“Okay,” he breathed, and wiped his eyes. “Okay.”
Well, checklist then. Allura was still in bed, probably, but he still swung by the door of her chambers to gently knock. Coran answered it, with a finger already over his lips and poking into his mustache.
“Shh,” he said, in lieu of a greeting. Lance smiled a little, and waved.
“Just checking,” he mouthed. “Need anything?”
Coran’s eyes glimmered, and he patted Lance’s head, before shaking his own head. Nodding back, Lance let the door shut, before breathing out again. Coran and Allura were good. Pidge, Hunk, and Slav had all eaten in the past six hours. Keith was, well, wherever he was, but at least he didn’t have access to the death room. That had to be good enough. The other group on the ship were the remaining members of the Blade of Marmora, but Lance didn’t really want to bother them. They were in another section of the ship, a place with their own kitchen and stores and stuff, and last Lance had seen, they were mourning. They’d lost a lot, more than the Paladins, if you went by just numbers.
Okay. Everybody was accounted for, and at least not in danger of dying any time soon. Lance decided to take a moment to himself to get a tiny bit further away from breaking down.
When he’d heard that they were landing on a planet/moon with breathable air, Lance had been thrilled to think of taking a walk outside, or maybe even finding a lake or something and swimming. Unfortunately, this place was a desert or something, and he’d been so anxious about everyone else, he han’t yet taken the chance to go out. But the fresh air would probably do him some good.