Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every morning that Keith wasn’t scheduled to train with the Blade of Marmora, he lept out of bed and made his way down to the Castle of Lions’ training deck to practice with the Altean training bots. To Lance’s great annoyance, Keith’s combat skills were improving with no sign of stopping. Lately, long sparring sessions, team exercises, and stealth missions with Kolivan left him feeling more energised than ever. He rarely felt the fatigue that he ought to, training alone all day – something which he attributed to his dedication to prove himself and push his limits. During the short breaks Keith did happen to have throughout the day, he made some effort to talk with the other paladins – but, of course, his mind often wandered. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to think of anything but the cause. Nonetheless, his routine was comfortable. He could easily distract himself through his training with no question from his teammates.

Today was not going according to schedule. For the first time since they’d left Earth, Keith slept in much longer than he intended to. Three sharp raps startled him out of a fretful but deep sleep at around midday.

“Keith, buddy? You in there?” Shiro called.

Keith’s eyes shot open immediately, but he found he could only manage to sit up slowly. His body was heavy, his throat thick, and his head groggy with sleep. “Yeah,” he replied, rubbing his eyes.

“We’re about to start group training, are you coming?”

His head snapped towards the door of his room. He hissed inwardly as his head gave a huge, throbbing protest. What time was it? He pressed his palms to his burning face and rubbed his eyes once again. “Uh, I’ll be right there, give me a minute!” He croaked.

Keith hastily threw his bedsheets off his legs and stumbled out of bed. He threw on his jacket and grabbed his boots, dressing as fast as he could in the dark.

Shiro hesitated before he responded, but the concern in his voice was obvious to Keith when he did speak. “Are you sure you’re okay, Keith?” He asked. “If you had a late one last night I’m sure the team wouldn’t mind if you sat this session out.”

At this, Keith realised that he needed to change into his armour for training. He swore under his breath at his disorganisation and ripped his clothes back off. He searched blindly for the red uniform Coran had cleaned and returned to him last night.

When he was ready, he rubbed his hands over his face in an effort to feel more alert. He sighed, and walked towards the door, which whisked open immediately as he approached it. The bright lights in the hallway, which Coran had programmed to simulate a natural day and night light cycle, confirmed his fears – he had indeed slept well past sunrise.

Shiro immediately raked his eyes over Keith. His brow was furrowed and he looked slightly more concerned than usual.

“I’m okay,” Keith smiled, holding his hands out as if to present himself, “I’m just a little tired.”

Shiro’s frown faded only slightly at the explanation, and he clapped Keith over the shoulder. Together, they began to walk towards the training deck.

“You’re probably tired from all the training you’ve been doing lately,” Shiro said, “But don’t worry; you’re not the only one I had to drag out of bed this morning.”

Keith shook his head in disbelief. “Lance again?”

Shiro nodded. “You wouldn’t believe how long it takes him to get ready. I was considering leaving him behind today!”

“I’m pretty sure that would’ve been a reward for him.”

Shiro smirked. “You’re not wrong. He would love the extra time to play that video game.” He laughed. "God, I sound like I'm geriatric."

With nothing more to contribute, Keith let them fall into a companionable silence. He was grateful for the lull in the conversation. His head was still throbbing and he felt like he had to concentrate a little too hard to comprehend what Shiro was saying. The silence calmed him a bit. He took the opportunity to try and figure out what he was feeling. His body was heavy and sluggish, yet humming with energy. He felt as if he’d drank ten cups of coffee and taken the equivalent in Xanax simultaneously.

He worried at his lip. He couldn’t afford to get sick out here. Not while they were sitting ducks; waiting for Lotor to make his next move.

“Continuing to train with Voltron is a hassle for you and Kolivan. I know that,” Shiro said, breaking the silence as they reached the corridor to the training deck, “But it’s all that we can do to prepare ourselves right now. It’s getting quiet out there, and Matt and the rebels haven’t found any new leads. So, we just need to keep doing what we can as a team."

Keith nodded slowly in understanding, careful not to upset his headache.

The doors whirred open upon their arrival to the training deck, where they were met by Hunk, Pidge, and Lance in the midst of a heated conversation on the main floor. Keith squinted up at the elevated room to his left and saw that Allura and Coran were already up at the controls, fiddling around on the main panel. That meant that today’s activity wasn’t just a regular fight as he had hoped.

“I’m offended that you’d even compare Galaxy Bots to the Universal Warriors remake!” Pidge squeaked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hunk. Her voice was indignant and high-pitched.

Hunk huffed, crossing his arms. “They’re both space film, and they’re both, technically speaking, completely inaccurate!” He said.

“It doesn’t matter!” Lance chimed in, “We all know Sargent Neil A’s tragic backstory in Force of Jupiter VI is the real cinematic masterpiece!”

Hunk laughed, “Force of Jupiter VI is possibly the worst space movie ever made.”

“Hunk! How. Dare. You.” Lance gasped.

Pidge howled, “The plot was so cheesy, Lance!”

“Pidge! C’mon! His dad was an alien! Who saw that one coming?”

“Lance, his name is literally ‘alien’ backwards-”

Shiro stuck an arm out between them, grinning. “Alright guys, break it up.”

Keith crossed his arms, smirking at them as they each mumbled something to themselves and stepped away from each other. Pidge and Hunk noticed Keith and greeted him with small waves, to which he responded with a curt nod.

Lance took a different approach and turned towards Keith with a devilish smile. “Speaking of aliens-” he started.

“Paladins!” Allura’s voice boomed over the intercom, interrupting Lance, “Today’s team training session will be especially dependent on your teamwork!”

A throbbing pain erupted in Keith’s temples at the loud noise. He placed a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was hungover.

 “And you’ll have to pay extra attention because we’ve decided not to tell you how the training bots are programmed!” Coran added mischievously.

 “The attack pattern that Coran has prepared today will be new to you, but I’m certain it’s one that we will have to face should we ever fight in battlefront conditions,” Allura explained. “I have no doubt this will be difficult, but if you all work together you will be able to succeed. Hopefully, the exercise should strengthen your cooperation and your flexibility in battle immensely.”

“Good luck!” Coran chirped.

The intercom system fizzled out. A familiar beeping noise began to resonate across the deck.

“Alright! Get ready!” Shiro said, moving into a defensive position.

When Keith opened his eyes, he was startled by the brightness of the room. He looked around quickly, blinking hard to clear his vision. All the others were in their starting positions, back to back, ready to fight. He followed suit, activating his bayard and holding it out in front of him.

Something was off. Keith was sure of it. His whole body felt heavy - like he was in a full winter coat that was sopping wet. He knew it from the way his sword weighed down his arm and his legs seemed to be trying to force him closer to the ground. He ignored the sensation, chalking it up to over-exertion. After all, it was just a quick training session – he could rest all he wanted as soon as it was over. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, willing himself to focus as five bots activated and headed towards the team.

One bot walked directly towards each of them, all wielding the same weapons as their soon to be opponents. The bot walking towards Keith held a long white and yellow sword. Its posture was slightly stilted, but it looked as prepared to fight as Keith supposed a robot could.

Lance fired first, and then all hell broke loose. Pidge darted forwards with amazing speed, Hunk ran to get a vantage point, Shiro activated his arm, and Keith lunged towards his bot with his sword. It felt heavier in his hand than usual, and with his balance off, he missed the upper torso. The bot stepped away and froze as the lining on its sides glowed faintly. Keith frowned but went in for another, similar attack. The bot parried. Keith stumbled backward, then lunged. This time he tripped a bit, his legs’ desperate plea to fold almost overtaking his conscious will to stand. The bot swung its sword and slashed the front of the armour covering Keith’s stomach. He reeled back a few more steps as it prepared to swing again.

He had to duck to avoid the next swipe, but he took the opportunity to slash at the bot's legs. He barely grazed the armour and swore at himself for not being more coordinated. His face burned red with embarrassment as the bot glowed again, seemingly unthreatened by him. Keith steadied himself and parried the next attack, pushing back with enough strength and pent up frustration to send the bot sprawling about a metre away from him. The bot glowed again, lying still on the floor for a moment. Something must have gone wrong with Coran’s programming today.

Keith took a moment to quickly assess the situation around him. Lance and Shiro had already killed their bots. They were both helping Hunk, whose trigger-happy bot seemingly had no idea how to handle facing three opponents except by assaulting them with rapid fire. Pidge was dominating her bot, lashing at it with startling agility and ferocity, barely giving it enough time to defend itself. Keith was surprised to find that he was nearly backed up against the wall of the training deck, far from the rest of the group. Meanwhile, his bot regained its composure and headed towards him again. He frowned and lunged forward, thrusting his sword into its chest with a shaky hand.

Just in time for two times as many bots to activate and head towards him.

He placed his hand to his head, which was spinning uncontrollably, and tried to take a deep breath. What the hell was wrong with him today? His horrible coordination and sluggish movements were foreign to him, and he had no idea how to compensate for his impaired agility.

 The bot he had impaled glowed continuously this time, and Keith hastily twisted and ripped the sword out of its body to make it stop. It shattered into holographic light, signalling its defeat. He reverted to his defensive position as three bots rounded in on him. He peered over their tall figures to see Shiro and Lance already fighting one bot each, and Pidge and Hunk fighting two.

What was the algorithm? Were they targeting the best fighters? No. Shiro would have the most.

He swore again as two of the bots reached him and swung at him with scarily fast punches. All of them had swords, but they didn’t seem to want to use them. The third, with the same hunched, frail posture as the rest of his bots, was yet to reach him, but it was definitely coming his way. Keith slashed, blocked punches and grew increasingly frustrated as the robots glowed more often. It became increasingly harder for him to manage the hits he took as more and more of the bots activated and headed towards him. On the rare occasion he caught a glimpse of the others, he saw them preoccupied. Every time he considered calling out for Lance or Hunk to shoot some of them down and help him, his thoughts were interrupted by another slash or need to parry.

Eventually, there were just less than a dozen opponents surrounding him. Half of them were idle, watching, glowing and waiting for an opportunity to get their punch in. Keith felt himself starting to panic. He felt like he was facing the Blade of Marmora trials all over again. He knew he could ordinarily fight them off, but his body made him struggle for every sluggish movement.

A punch hit him square in the chest, interrupting his train of thought, and his sword clattered out of his hand. His ears rang unbearably loud. He didn’t even try to pick his bayard up. Not that he could have. His vision had darkened and he could only see shadowed silhouettes of the bots against the dim lights of the deck. Someone yelled his name. His ears rang and he felt oddly… disconnected. His body felt too light and too heavy all at the same time. He backed up as far as he could, stumbling over his own feet until his back hit the wall of the training deck. He heard blasts and grunts grow increasingly louder as his teammates made their way towards him. He tried to focus on them, steadying his breathing until he could see again. He waited a few moments, until he was sure he could stand without the support of the wall, to open his eyes and take a step forwards.

The bots were still surrounding him, but there were less, and even those that remained looked worse for wear. A flash of green darted between the legs of two bots and slashed them clean off. Hunk and Lance’s guns dropped bots like flies. Keith still couldn’t see his sword, but he stood up on his wobbly legs and initiated a fist fight with one of the bots who insisted on attacking him. Slowly but surely, all of them crumpled to the ground and burst into bright light, leaving nothing a small array of wires and five paladins standing.

Keith let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and let his shoulders drop in relief. He wiped the sweat from his brow, ignoring Shiro's concerned gaze. 

“Well that was a workout,” Lance groaned, stretching his arms out behind him.

Keith nodded in unison with Pidge, panting.

“What was that?” Hunk squeaked towards the control room, waving his hands.

Coran replied over the intercom, “We’re coming down, wait a tick!”

The five of them walked to the front of the training deck and waited patiently for Coran and the princess to emerge. When they did, they were talking in hushed whispers. Keith distantly recognised a look of confusion on Allura’s face and concern on Coran’s.

Allura spoke first, “We’re having some trouble understanding exactly what went wrong…”

“With all due respect, Princess, I checked the programming multiple times and it all worked just fine!” Coran protested.

Shiro stepped forward. “What’s going on? That wasn’t exactly a fair fight." His voice was tense with worry.

Allura looked up at him, startled by his tone, and then turned to Coran without saying a word. Coran ignored her and stared at Keith, who was barely managing to hear what they were saying over the incessant pounding in his head.

“Are you... quite alright, Keith?” Allura asked hesitantly.

Keith blinked himself out of his trance. “Uh – Yeah, I mean, I was kinda swamped but…” He trailed off as Allura shook her head.

“I’m not referring to the training,” she said.

Keith turned to his fellow paladins for some sort of explanation. Hunk just shrugged at him. Shiro squinted at him.  “Why?” He asked.

Allura glanced over at Coran again, and Keith ran his hand through his hair nervously, waiting for someone to say something. The silence was not soothing this time around. Keith’s head pounded loud in the absence of any other noise, and the backs of his eyes stung uncomfortably.

Finally, Coran spoke. “The programming of the bots today was more sophisticated than usual,” he said. “You might’ve noticed that while you were fighting them, the lining of their armour glowed slightly.”

“Every time we made a mistake right? Got hit or something?” Pidge asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Well, yes!” Coran grinned, suddenly delighted. He straightened his back and put his hands on his hips. “But not only that. They adapted to each of your actions. Every time they glowed, they learned something new about your attack patterns or weaknesses. A pretty smart way of analysing fight patterns if you don’t mind me polishing my own hobknacker!”

Lance frowned, “Hobknacker?”

“That is beside the point,” Allura said, placing a hand on Coran’s shoulder to quiet him.

She clasped her hands in front of her and said something else, her gaze landing on Keith. He squinted and leaned forward to try and hear what she had said. She was whispering for some reason, but everyone else seemed to hear her, and turned towards him, too. Shiro said something in reply, but his voice was garbled and he sounded like he was underwater. Keith focused harder, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw as his head got increasingly lighter.

“Those of you who were able to recognise your weaknesses in battle and adapt to the situation were more likely to defeat your enemy quicker.”

Keith cleared his throat awkwardly. His breaths were starting to feel thin in his chest. The air was light and he inhaled without traction – as if he was breathing pure oxygen - yet his lungs felt starved. His body was light, too. It was almost as if he was floating, but he could feel his body being dragged towards the ground by gravity.

Coran said something. Though, through the distorted noise, Keith only managed to hear a few words.

“…analyse data...the most vulnerable…”

Keith blinked hard, but his vision was gone. The room was shrouded in darkness. A few pinpricks of bright light pierced their way through the veil like stars. It wasn’t comforting. He could feel himself slowly slipping away, like a balloon escaping the hands of a child. Finally understanding what this meant, Keith reached out to his left where he knew Lance was standing. His hand weakly and awkwardly grasped onto what he assumed was Lance’s arm. Then, from a distance, he heard himself speak in a voice that was much calmer than he felt.

“I’m going to faint,” he said.

Chapter Text

Distorted noises echoed through Keith’s head as he felt himself freefall. Many people were talking all at once, and at least three different sets of hands attempted to grasp at his arms. His body completely gave itself up to gravity, careening, until it was caught in a vice-like grip. Keith watched his knees buckle and his back arch as if someone else were fainting. He stood by his own side, unfeeling and lost until his mind began to slowly come back to him.

Keith could feel every inch of his body under an enormous weight as he emerged from what felt like hours of nothingness. He opened his eyes, completely disoriented. A pair of arms were wrapped around his chest from behind. He couldn’t feel anything below his waist just yet, but he knew that his legs were being crushed by something. His own weight, probably.

He mustn’t have been out for as long as he thought. Whoever was supporting the upper half of his body was obviously still in shock. Annoyingly, they weren’t laying him down or releasing their grip.  Keith stretched his arms towards the floor in an effort to indicate that he wanted to be laid down. He’d had enough of this flying nonsense. The arms obliged and set him down on the cold floor gently. He immediately regretted his decision when he felt the way his hips were angled. His legs were bent at the knees, his ankles up by his thighs, and his hips elevated. Fed up, he groaned angrily and wrenched his legs out of their position with his hands, the only things that seemed to be working properly. His vision was still blotchier than he liked, and looking at anything gave him astounding pain behind the eyes, but he was vaguely aware that the others were standing around him, staring.

Shiro’s hand was on his shoulder, and it took Keith a moment to register that he was talking.

“...ake it easy, buddy,” Shiro said.

“Okay,” Keith replied curtly.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked hesitantly.

Keith set his mouth into a thin line and tried to resist the intense dizziness he felt.

Allura peered at him, her face warm with reassurance. “Coran and Pidge have just run off to fetch you a cool rag and something to drink,” she explained. “When Coran returns, he will tend to you.”

Keith’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at the sudden attention. He stupidly tried to push himself into a sitting position with shaky arms. Seeing him struggle, Hunk held his hand out, helped Keith, and then put his big arm across his slouched back, as if he was scared Keith would black out again and slam his head against the ground. God, with the way everyone was looking at him now, Keith wished he would.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled.

“Well you might be, but I just got tackled to the ground!” Lance complained.

Keith grimaced at his theatrics. “Sorry, Lance. Next time, I’ll make sure to collapse out of your way,” he mumbled.

Lance winced.

Keith wrenched himself out of Hunk's grip and stood up abruptly. He swayed on the spot for a moment, and Lance’s huffed face changed to one of concern in a split second. He put his hand on Keith’s arm lightly to steady him.

“You were saying?”

 “Keith, sit down, please,” Allura said lightly, reaching out to him.

“Honestly, I’m alright!” He bit.

Shiro stepped forwards, grabbing Keith’s arm, hard. Keith wasn’t completely sure whether or not it was to help him remain upright or to because he was mad.

“I knew this morning that you weren’t fine, Keith,” Shiro snapped. “I never should have let you train today. Look at the state you’re in now!”

Keith’s annoyance dissipated almost immediately, turning into shame. He let his tense shoulders fall. The rest of the group looked down at their feet awkwardly. Lance had suddenly taken interest in fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Shiro was upset now, and everyone was uncomfortable. Keith deeply regretted leaving the comfort of Hunk’s cosy arm and the cool floor for Lance’s pity and a lecture. He looked at Shiro’s concerned face and wondered how, miraculously, he thought everything was his own fault. The guy was so guilt-ridden he probably thought that everything on the Kerebos mission happened because he didn’t watch enough sci-fi films to know the warning signs of being abducted.

“I just – I thought you might’ve let yourself have a break this morning. I hoped that’s why you were late,” Shiro sighed, trying to backpedal from his sudden outburst of concern.

Keith shook his head. Maybe he should have just skipped out on training today. It wasn’t like he thought being tired warranted sitting out, but the bigger this whole thing got, the more Shiro would blame himself. He looked up tiredly and admitted defeat, letting out a short sigh. “I guess I was a little tired today,” he conceded.

Allura approached Keith. “Regardless, the main part of today’s training session is over, so there’s no need to rush back into anything. I am sure you will be well-rested enough to join us again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, even if you were fine before, you took a real beating today, man.” Hunk chimed in. “It’s gonna take you more than a couple minutes to recover.”

He nodded slowly.

Lance smirked and nudged Keith lightly in the side. “If Keith’s slacking off does that mean we can, too?”

Allura placed a hand on her chin and seriously considered Lance’s proposal. “No,” she said, “What if one of you were injured in battle? Would the rest of you stop fighting?”

“But I’m not injured or anything,” Keith mumbled. “Can’t I just get in a healing pod for a couple of ticks, rest up, and be done with it?”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but why do you need a healing pod if you're not injured?”

“Lance.” Shiro chided, eliciting an indignant look from the blue paladin.

“To fight off the symptoms my healthy body is exhibiting,” Keith retorted, clenching his jaw.

The sound of pounding footsteps interrupted the conversation. Coran and Pidge stumbled through the door carrying small pouches of sweet liquid the team usually drank after training, and a big, white pouch. They were both breathing heavily, as if they had run the entire length of the castle and back.

“We just ran the entire length of the castle and back,” Pidge panted, “and you’re not even dead anymore?”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Keith said, unable to hide a smile at the relieved expression on Pidge’s red face.

The pair dragged themselves towards the group. Coran poked a straw through one of the pouches and handed it to Keith, who happily accepted it and took a sip. Drinking it left a sickly taste in his mouth, but he was glad for an excuse not to talk. The drinks didn’t last long, though. Almost immediately after they were emptied, Coran and Shiro, ever the over-protective people they were, made Keith sit still and endure a full-blown examination. Talk about paranoia. A guy collapses once and he becomes the subject of a quiznacking science experiment.

Coran darted between Keith, who was starting to understand what hamsters in labs felt like, and his white satchel more times than Keith could count. He used a variety of tools to inspect different parts of Keith’s anatomy. First, he took out some sort of torch and shined it in Keith’s ear, which seemed redundant – but not weird. Then, he tested each of Keith’s fingers and their dexterity. Next, twirled a piece of Keith’s black hair between two gloved fingers, examining it under a microscope.

Keith squirmed under his examination.

“It’s just precautionary! We want to make sure you haven’t picked up anything nasty out here – so sit still, Keith!”

Keith curled his fingers, which he had been restlessly fiddling with, into clenched fists. His reluctance to cooperate served as some kind of amusement to Lance, who watched on, snorting when Coran requested a large spit sample.

Allura coughed awkwardly to get Coran’s attention. “Perhaps we should let Keith rest for now,” she said.

Coran stroked his moustache. “Hmm… He does seem alright, but I’d like to do one final test just to be sure.” He reached into his first-aid bag and pulled out a long, pulsing crystal.

The gem was about the size of Keith’s thumb and was a dark, amber colour. Coran instructed Keith to hold out his hand and when he did, placed it in his palm. The crystal stopped glowing for a brief moment and then started to emit an extremely rapid series of flashes. Coran watched it intently, starting a timer and whispering under his breath. As the ticks slowly climbed, Keith began to wonder what exactly the flashes were meant to be indicating.

“142 pumps per dobash,” Coran announced, scratching his head. “A little low, but otherwise fine.”

“And, uh, what are pumps exactly, Coran?” Pidge asked, taking the crystal out of Keith’s hand and examining it.

Coran scoffed, “My! They’re the fundamental heart function. Surely you know that.”

Hunk looked down at the glowing gem, raising an eyebrow. It was now beating steadily and much slower in Pidge’s hand than it was in Keith’s. His eyes widened. Suddenly, he stepped towards Keith and placed two big fingers beside his windpipe. “My God, Keith, your pulse!” He choked, jumping away from him.

“What?” Keith croaked defensively. He copied what Hunk had done, this time with his own fingers. He waited, feeling nothing. He pressed harder, and then he felt a rapid throbbing against his fingers. “I- I’m having a heart attack?”

This time, Shiro darted towards him. As if he couldn’t believe the three people who had already tested Keith’s heart rate, he pressed his fingers into Keith’s wrist, hard. He raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened. He stuttered, “We have to get him to a hospital or, or-“

“But I feel fine,” Keith interjected.

“You’re having a heart attack and you’re still keeping up the act?”

“Calm yourselves, Paladins!” Allura said harshly, drawing everyone’s attention. “I have no clue what all this fuss is about, but Keith seems perfectly alright! Just look at him!”

They did. Keith wasn’t crumpling to the floor, clutching his left arm, nor did he feel any worse than usual. Sure, he was sweating up a storm, but did he feel as if his heart was about to explode out of his chest like in the old cartoons? No.

“I- uh…” Keith stammered. He was at a loss for words.

“The average amount of pumps per dobash for a young Altean is about 150,” Coran said.

“…I could be wrong, but the average resting heart rate for a teenage human is about 70 beats per minute,” Lance supplied. “It’s one of the first things they teach you in first-aid at the Garrison – how gravity affects heart rate.”

“But the gravity on this ship is almost identical to Earth's!” Pidge interjected.

 “Are you sure you feel alright, Keith?” Shiro asked, his voice cracking with worry.

Keith touched his chest, almost as if to make sure. “Yeah,” he replied.

“But, a dobash isn’t that much longer than a minute. He should be dying, right?” Hunk whispered.

 “Perhaps we should take him to the infirmary to run more tests,” Allura suggested calmly. Her voice wavered, but she cleared her throat and continued. “If each of you is so concerned, I’m sure there is cause for it.”

Coran nodded in agreement.

He instructed the other Paladins to clean themselves up while he took Keith, and Shiro, who refused to leave Keith’s side, to a large, well-lit room that they had never seen before. The entrance was hidden in a part of the castle they had never even known about; up a secret set of stairs from the lounge area.

It was cluttered with idle machines and medical equipment, but there was no dust anywhere. The lights of the secret room were warm and dull; nowhere near as harsh as those throughout the rest of the castle. The walls were a simple, light blue colour which reminded Keith of someplace he couldn’t remember. The room itself contained about dozen or so pull-out beds, which were lined up along each wall. The mattresses were thin, and it looked like they hadn’t been used for a while, but they were clean and surprisingly soft to the touch. In the tired silence that stretched out between the three of them, Keith became aware of his racing heart again.

He took a deep breath and sat down on one of the beds. The lack of blinding light allowed him to think for a moment about how hectic the last hour had been. Shiro seemed to have calmed down. He sat beside Keith on the mattress.

Coran bustled about, connecting machines, untangling wires and restarting monitors. When he finally seemed satisfied with what he had done, he approached Keith with what looked like a bigger version of the helmet devices they used in training sessions.

“I thought we used these to strengthen our bonds as Voltron?” Keith asked, warily eyeing the contraption.

“Yes, that is one of their uses,” Coran chirped, “But they’re also a very efficient medical tool. With these-” Coran wiggled the little tabs that typically glowed when attached to their heads, “-I can keep track of all your vital bodily processes.”

“And then we can figure out what’s going on?” Keith asked, tilting his head.

“If anything, yes. Now, lie down.”

Keith begrudgingly did as he was told. He rested his head on the pillow provided and tried to relax. If his aching muscles were sentient, they would have sighed in relief and thanked him a thousand times over. Coran began to attach the thin metal tabs of the device to the skin on Keith’s arms and across various parts of his body. They were cold, and he shivered when they were placed at the base of his neck. Shiro watched on, concerned. Suddenly, as the last tab was connected, a holographic screen came to life in front of Coran. It was purple and covered in Altean writing and graphs that neither of the Paladins could understand. There was a diagram of an Altean body on display, which Keith noted had a considerably large heart, stomach and set of lungs, but not much of anything else.

Shiro seemed to notice, too. “Are you sure this is going to be accurate?” He asked apprehensively.

“Of course! I’ll just upload the data we got from Lance’s human body in the healing pods to here – aha!” Coran exclaimed, “And we’re ready to go! The preliminary tests will take a few dobashes, so I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait a moment!”

“Coran,” Keith inquired, taking advantage of the situation, “What is this place?”

At this, the man stiffened and his face fell slightly. Keith raised an eyebrow at him.

His voice was melancholy and soft when he finally responded. “This room used to be the royal nursery. When I was young, newly born Altean royalty were tended to here.”

“It’s a pretty big room for one baby,” Keith pointed out.

Coran nodded, “That’s why when Allura’s father, King Alfor, became the King, he insisted that we take in any babies who were unwell and treat them here. He believed that the children were our future.” Coran shook his head fondly. “He was a kind man, well suited to the role of a king.”

Coran looked at Keith with a sad smile. He shook his head abruptly and turned to the purple screen again.

“During the major conflict with Zarkon, this room was turned into an infirmary to keep up with the overwhelming injured soldiers we had to care for. Not everyone could be treated at the hospital in Altea, so we had to make do. The only good that came out of all of it was our ability to collect information from patients of all different species and develop better services,” he continued solemnly. “Even if we don’t have much data on the human race, I’ll do everything in my power to find out if something is wrong with Keith. Then, we’ll get him healed up in no time.” It seemed as if he was neither talking to Shiro, Keith, nor himself. Someone lost, whom he felt loyalty to.

Shiro peered at the screen in front of Coran. “What’s the data saying?”

“Well, you were correct. Compared to Lance’s heart rate, Keith’s is concerning. He also has a very high temperature,” he said. “Are the symptoms familiar to either of you? I’m not very well versed on human ailments and medicines.” He twirled his moustache with a gloved finger, eagerly awaiting their responses.

They both shook their heads.

“No matter,” Allura said, alerting them to her presence. She had made herself comfortable and was leaning against the frame of the door. Something in her sad expression told Keith she had been there for a while. She placed her hands on her hips. “Coran will soon find out how to get you well again, Keith. He’s very skilled when it comes to healing. I have complete faith in him,” she smiled confidently.

 They stood in the short corridor outside the infirmary two days later.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with the boy, Princess,” Coran lamented, scratching his head.

“Oh.”

Chapter Text

Keith wasn’t surprised when Shiro dozed off. It never did take him long to fall asleep, no matter where they were – he seemed permanently tired since Kerebos. Keith was surprised by how much younger Shiro looked when he was sleeping. The bags under his eyes seemed to fade considerably, and with his lips slightly parted and his brow relaxed, he looked so soft and at peace. Like the Shiro that Keith used to know.

Something was different now, though. Something about the way Shiro looked frightened him. Maybe it was because it had been so long since Keith had seen that familiar face. It wasn’t like he watched Shiro sleep very often. Maybe it was because he looked so unguarded and vulnerable… Keith turned away from the black paladin, trying to focus on his own deep breaths instead.

He was freaking out a little. He had tried to keep his cool and seem as nonchalant as possible when Coran had told him he was still looking for an answer, but the truth was that the pounding of Keith’s heart was getting more and more noticeable, he was sweating like a madman and he had never felt so on edge.  If that wasn’t bad enough, his nerves were on edge – his body urged him to do something, to get up and run away from this, but his head was still throbbing and he knew that even attempting to stand up would earn him a lecture from Shiro.

How did things go so bad so quickly?

The door to the infirmary slowly slid open. Keith closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He didn’t know if he could handle another set of tests from Coran or another heartfelt conversation with Hunk over some funky tasting soup.

He heard soft footsteps approach his left side, and then there were whispers.

“Shiro? Buddy, wake up,” the voice said.

“Hnng?”

“You should really go get some sleep.”

There was a pause and then whispers between the two that were too soft for Keith to make out.

“Yeah, of course I’ll stay, man.”

There was a loud shuffling as Shiro stood and dragged his tired feet through the door. Keith opened his eyes just a fraction to catch him looking back into the room guiltily. Keith’s heart panged. He wished Shiro had stayed, the space on his bed where his head had been resting was suddenly cold and he cringed away from it.

“What’re you doing here?” Keith croaked angrily when he was sure Shiro was out of earshot. He really did try to sound insulting, but his voice cracked and wavered like a twelve-year-old boy’s when he attempted to put any heart into his words.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Lance chirped, ignoring the red paladin’s attempt to start an argument.

Keith sat up gingerly and crossed his arms, facing Lance with a frown.

Lance’s face immediately dropped. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. “Woah, dude…” he said, looking at Keith with wide eyes.

 “Did Allura make you come here?” Keith asked tiredly.

“What? No. I – well…” he stammered, “I actually came to check how Shiro was doing.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. He replied to Lance in a tone that matched the one you would probably use when explaining something to a child. “And you did. So, I guess you can leave now.” He gave a pointed look towards the door Shiro just used.

Lance looked offended for a moment and furrowed his brow. Keith diverted his gaze and stared at the foot of his bed in a huff. The silence lasted a small while, during which Keith’s vision went out of focus. He refused to blink it away in fear of breaking his cool façade.

Eventually, he gave in. He blinked hard and turned dizzily to his left. Lance’s eyes seemed to have softened and his smirk was back. “If I didn’t know better, Keith, I would say you were trying to get rid of me.”

Keith scoffed at him, and they both failed to hide their smiles. To be completely honest, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world having Lance there. He needed some light-hearted banter. They sat, looking at each other awkwardly for a moment. Keith let out a heavy breath and rested his head against the wall behind him. He played with the edge of his comforter as they considered each other. Keith’s raspy, uneven breaths were the only thing breaking the silence.

“What does it feel like?” Lance asked gently, moving forward hesitantly and placing his hand on the bed. He looked like he had been reaching for Keith’s arm, to console him. “Maybe if you describe it, I could figure out what it is.”

Keith rocked in place, his body slightly off balance from turning his head so quickly. “So, you’re a doctor now?” He joked.

“I mean, it can’t be that hard, right?” Lance said sarcastically.

Something bubbled up inside Keith’s chest and escaped before he could stop it. He started to giggle. That weird kind of giggle that escapes you when it’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you’re at a sleepover, or your teacher’s getting mad at the class and you make eye contact with someone across the room. That uncontrollable, yet devoid of actual joy laugh. Lance raised an eyebrow at him. Keith put a hand to his cheek and closed his eyes slightly.

“That was weird. Sorry,” he managed to mumble.

“Wow, you really are sick.”

“Shut up, Lance,” he snorted. “I’m just lightheaded.”

Lance grinned at him and placed his elbow on the bed, resting his head on his hand. He bit his lip and looked down. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you earlier.”

Keith shook his head, still grinning. “It’s not that bad.”

Lance smiled sadly and made a point of looking Keith up and down. Keith mimicked this action, evaluating his appearance. Damn, okay, Lance had a point. Attached to Keith’s right arm were about ten different tubes, wires, and tabs. They all led in different directions, monitoring different things, connected to different machines. He looked a bit like a machine himself.

He looked to his right at a metal shelf that was supporting some of Coran’s equipment to catch a glimpse of his reflection. His face was beaded with sweat and looked oilier than he had ever seen it. It wasn’t his fault though, he hadn’t had the opportunity to shower since he got here. He considered that for a moment. He’d sat in this bed for two whole days in the same clothes without showering? He must’ve smelled terrible. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and looked at Lance again. Lance, who was being so uncharacteristically kind to him.

“Okay, so you’re here to make amends before I die,” Keith said mockingly.

Lance scooted forward in his chair and firmly said, “You’re not going to die.” He put a hand on Keith’s arm and squeezed it tight. “We’re going to find out what’s wrong. Just talk to me.”

Keith’s chest tightened. How was it that Lance was being so supportive? How was it that everything Keith had been lying here wishing someone would say to him was coming from his supposed nemesis? It was exactly what he needed. Someone curious, but not pitiful. Someone who would let him talk without offering sympathies or asking if there was anything they could do to help. Somehow, it was better coming from him – it meant that he cared enough to put their petty differences aside and talk to him.

“I can’t get comfortable,” he said simply. “I feel like I’m either burning up or I’ll never be warm again – there’s no in-between. I’m dizzy, too.”

“That’d be the fever,” Lance said, nodding. “What else?”

“My body is filled with adrenaline. My head is all over the place. It’s like – every part of me wants to get up and run,” he hesitated before continuing slowly. “That might not be the fever though.”

Lance leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. He stretched his legs and let out a thoughtful, “Hmm.”

Keith looked at the walls again. They had reminded him of something distant before – something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Now, he knew. The walls were the colour of the desert sky from back on Earth. It was the colour he saw every day on the horizon through his broken windows when first light broke. It was then that he knew why he wanted to run.

“I always run,” he murmured sadly.

Lance considered him for a moment, urging him to go on. “Keith?” His voice was loud and sharp – cutting through something Keith didn’t know was there. It was clear, stern, and loud.

Keith was taken aback by the clarity of it, and how it struck him right between the eyes. He dragged his hand through his hair, biting his lip. He smiled at Lance and pushed the comforter off himself – suddenly being overwhelmed with heat.

Lance frowned.

“Sorry,” he said, louder this time, “I just always run. When my dad was gone, I ran to the Garrison because I didn’t want to be alone. Then, Shiro was gone, so I ran from the Garrison because it reminded me too much of him.”

The walls that he had stared at for so long suddenly made him feel claustrophobic. He took a deep, shaky breath and buried his face in his hands. A series of revelations hit him in the chest, and the room seemed to grow darker. Was he… a coward? 

“I am a coward,” he blurted after a moment. Then, desperate words erupted from him before he could stop them. He waved his hands in front of him, desperately trying to explain it to Lance, who was now standing beside him with a blank expression. “When Zarkon was tracking us, I ran. I ran because I thought it was my fault for being Galra somehow–” he hesitated. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t hold it all in anymore. Everything around him was that lonely blue colour and it egged him on. “I thought it was my fault and I was prepared to leave for good. I thought you all resented me but wouldn’t say anything. You’re all too nice to hate me, though. You don’t care who my mother is, and you say it doesn’t matter, but it should. Allura was the only one who treated me like you all should have –”

The room was definitely darker than before. The shadows seemed menacing, and the low light was frightening. Lance wasn’t just standing next to him, Keith realised. He was hovering above Keith with a shadowed face. His heart jumped in his chest. Since when did Lance look so cold? Shiro was back, too, standing beside Lance. He had the same face as before, when he was sleeping – the one that unnerved Keith and made his stomach flip. The shadowed, calm look of distance.

Keith choked on his next words, confused, scared, and mostly erratic for no reason, which just made him more confused and scared. “Everyone just leaves. Like my Mom, Dad, Shiro, and me. I should leave, too.”

Lance had no patience today. Hunk, Pidge, Coran, Allura and he had spent the past couple of days combing every database they could to try and work out what was happening with Keith. Initially, Lance had been fully on board, helping them wherever he could. His teammate’s heart was about to burst from his chest – there was no way he was going to ignore that. But now, with a grand total of not-enough-sleep, he was wondering what the big deal even was.

Favouritism, he thought. It made sense. Keith was like a brother to Shiro, so there was no way he was getting so much as a paper cut without some serious coddling. His initial worry for the red paladin quickly changed into worry for everyone but him. None of them had been sleeping, despite Lance’s best efforts to force them to take breaks, and they were stretching themselves thin.

Coran darted between the infirmary and the common room constantly. Every moment he wasn’t needed by Keith’s side, he was making himself busy by reading old dusty medicine books, bossing Lance around, or making food with Hunk for the rest of them. Hunk – now that was someone truly in his element. He visited Keith three times a day with a tray of freshly prepared soup, a wet cloth, and no doubt an abundance of selflessness. He knew exactly what everyone needed and when they needed it, and he was the strongest of them all.

Well, except for Pidge. Her fingers never stopped on the keyboard. With the help of Allura, she was digging up every single piece of relevant medical information the Alteans had ever stored. The two of them were a power duo – they had found most of the group’s leads so far.

Although, nothing had been a breakthrough.

The only thing that kept Lance working hard in the slightest was the strained look on Coran’s face every time he returned from his trip to the infirmary. The only time he had looked more relieved returning than departing was when it turned out Keith hadn’t flatlined – he had just accidentally pulled out a wire in his sleep. Okay, yeah. So, considering that Coran had seriously thought Keith had died, maybe Lance was willing to admit that something really was wrong with him.

“Can’t we just put him in a healing pod?” Lance asked for the fortieth time that day.

“I’ve already told you, Lance,” Allura said calmly, not looking up from Pidge’s computer. “The healing pods can only do what we tell them. If we do not know what is wrong, we can’t use them. Regardless, they are mostly equipped to heal physical injuries – not illnesses.”

“Well, why don’t we –”

“We can’t take him to a hospital or healer because we don’t know who’s on Lotor’s side. Even going to the rebels right now would be risky. Anyone could tell him that one of our Paladins is sick and we can’t form Voltron, and the Galra would strike immediately,” Pidge said, repeating what Allura had told them yesterday.

“I doubt they would know anything in the slightest about human anatomy, anyway,” Allura added.

Lance stretched out lazily. “And we also can’t go to Earth because if they’re tracking us or this ship in any way, we’d be endangering our entire planet. Yeah, I get it,” he pouted.

“Maybe you should go talk to Shiro about getting some sleep, Lance,” Hunk yawned from beside him. “The guy’s been in there for ages – he could probably use a break.”

“Do I have to do it?” Lance whined. already brushing his jeans off and standing up.

“The food is ready, Paladins! Come and get it while it’s still hot!” Coran announced before Hunk could answer, pulling a tray out from the oven and placing it on the kitchen bench enthusiastically. He grinned proudly at what looked to be an assortment of rocks.

Lance let out a low whistle as he looked at the ‘food’. He quickly started to make his way towards the secret staircase, walking backward to fully appreciate the looks of apprehension on the other paladins’ faces. “Oh, no! What bad timing! I’m just leaving to go check on Shiro!” He called from across the room.

“Oh, yes, well!” Coran called back, looking a little disheartened, “More for the rest of us!”

When Lance reached the doorway of the infirmary, it took him a moment to find the others. He saw Keith’s armour by the foot of the bed first, and then his eyes flickered up to the bundle of blankets. Keith was curled up on his side and sleeping with his back facing Shiro, whose hands were folded underneath his head as he napped on the edge of the bed. Lance sighed. It was obvious to him that Shiro desperately needed a break. Sitting in that position for so long could not have been good on his back.

Lance walked over to the chair and placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. He shook it gently. “Shiro? Buddy, wake up,” he whispered.

Shiro moaned in response, his body obviously groggy with fatigue.

“You should really go get some sleep,” Lance said.

Shiro blinked a few times and looked up at Lance with his brow furrowed. He gazed at the bundle of blankets before him. “Will you watch him,” he asked, “and come get me when he wakes up?”

Lance groaned inwardly but plastered a smile on his face. “Yeah, of course I’ll stay, man.”

Well, that was a lie. Lance had planned to stay initially, after seeing Keith in such a surprisingly weakened state (how was possible for his skin to get even paler?) but his pity immediately turned into anger when Keith had hit him with that condescending tone.

“And you did. So, I guess you can leave now.”

This kid was unbelievable. After everything Lance was doing for him, Keith was telling him to leave. After Lance and the team had sacrificed every waking hour to help him, he had the audacity to be ungrateful. Keith refused to make eye contact with him after that, so Lance just left. He just walked through the door in a huff, only to remember halfway down the corridor that he had made a promise to Shiro. And Lance McClain kept his promises.

He sighed and leaned against the wall, tired. His emotions were all over the place. Keith really got on Lance’s nerves. Initially, he had hated him. Soon enough, though, after working closely with him, he’d grown to find him endearing. Of course, as soon as that happened, the guy had to go become the leader of Voltron instead of Lance; lead the team into an avoidable trap; get sick and make Lance feel sorry for him; and then finish the roller coaster that was their relationship off with a smartass remark that had them right back at square one. He closed his eyes and let his legs slide him down to the floor until he was sitting with his knees to his chest.

He sat for a little while, trying to ignore the sound of Keith’s talking in the other room and concentrate on the wall in front of him. Keith’s voice fluctuated in volume drastically, mumbling about something Lance had no interest in. Would he shut up? Lance thought. Who’s he talking to, anyway? He laughed a few times. His voice bubbled quite a bit, actually. Lance, staying on the floor, turned his body so he could see inside the room. He scowled at Keith who was lying down again, babbling to himself with increasing speed.

“Okay, so you’re here to make amends before I die,” Keith said, choking on his words, wringing his hands through his hair, staring to his left where Lance stood once before.

Lance stood up abruptly, throwing himself at the doorway, holding the frame tightly. Was Keith… hallucinating?

Keith started again, however, few of his words were decipherable. “…burning up… I’ll never be warm again…” he mumbled breathily.

Lance quietly took a step towards Keith, learning forward cautiously to get a better view of his face. His eyes were open, but they were glazed and searching blindly. His body was covered with sweat and his hands were now twisted into the bedsheets below him.

“I always run,” Keith whimpered.

Lance stared at him, horrified. What was he supposed to do?  If it was Keith’s fever, he should have gone get Coran, but he couldn’t look away. Something urged him to stay; not to leave him by himself. He vaguely remembered once when his brother had been really sick and his fever was so bad that he started convulsing. He couldn’t leave Keith to hit his head on something or choke on his own vomit. He walked slowly towards the bed, to where he was standing not long ago, and spoke as clearly as he could.

“Keith?” Was all he managed to say.

It seemed to work, a bit. Keith’s eyes focused for a moment before he apologised and elaborated, his voice a little calmer. “I just always run. When my dad was gone, I ran to the Garrison because I didn’t want to be alone. Then, Shiro was gone so I ran from the Garrison because it reminded me too much of him.”

Then, Keith slipped away again. His eyes flickered around the room. They were wide and glossy, like a deer’s in headlights. He slammed them shut suddenly, and buried his face aggressively in his hands. His body began to shake – and this time, it wasn’t because of laughter. He curled his knees up to his chest as his body was repeatedly struck with paroxysms of what looked like fear. He kept talking. About what, Lance didn’t know, but he was officially terrified.

Keith looked so much different than Lance had ever seen him. He was barely recognisable like this. Where was the impulsive, annoying personality? Where was the red-hot anger ready to burst at any moment? The socially awkward fighter pilot? Lance wanted to reach out and hold him still – stop his incessant shaking, but he knew that might just send Keith spiralling further.

He looked desperately around the room for some sort of answer. The wires in Keith’s arms caught his eye. He recalled the incident earlier when a blaring, beeping noise had erupted from Coran’s mobile monitor of Keith’s vitals. He ran to the machines, looking desperately for one that monitored heart rate. He swore to himself in frustration, and proceeded to rip about half of them out. A loud chorus of prolonged beeps erupted from the machines beside him. He looked up at Keith, who was whispering again, and waited with baited breath for Coran to burst through the door.

“You say it doesn’t matter, but it should,” he wheezed, “Allura was the only one who treated me like you all should have –”

Shiro was the first to fling himself through the doorway, practically tripping over his own feet in an effort to reach Keith’s side. He stood beside Lance, panting, his hands reaching towards Keith, and then pulling back, and then reaching again. Like Lance, he had no idea what to do. They stood there, half in shock as Coran entered the room with heavy breaths and Keith said shakily:

“Everyone just leaves. Like Mom, Dad, Shiro, and me. I should leave.”

Lance’s heart sunk – didn’t he just leave minutes ago?  The thought was enough to snap him out of his frozen position, and he sat beside Keith on the bed, delicately and hesitantly putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Shiro knelt in front of him, his eyes heavy with concern, yet soft with comfort. Keith’s eyes were still shut, but from the way his body relaxed when they got closer to him, they could both tell he was coming down from whatever panicked high he was on.

Lance took a deep breath. “We’re not going anywhere, buddy,” he said.

Chapter Text

There are many ways to feel trapped. Sometimes, rooms feel too small or crowds too thick. Sometimes, you have no choice but to follow the stumbling feet of the person in front of you, your chest tightening at being in such close proximity to complete strangers. You can be caught in a lie with no one to dig you out, or you can be expected to know something that you don’t. You can also get trapped in your own deep thoughts – caught in a cruel spiral of self-doubt.

Pidge had experienced plenty of these feelings before, but now, in the silence that followed a deafening series of beeps and a chorus of her friends’ pounding footsteps, she discovered new meaning in the word. She was trapped. Cornered. The team was on the brink of giving up. It had taken the second crashing of Keith’s vitals to really confirm it.

For the first time in what felt like hours, Pidge slowly looked up from her laptop. She met Hunk’s eyes from across the room. He was holding one of Coran’s creations loosely in his hand, picking at the edge of it and biting his lip. He was quite obviously trying to hold back tears.

Allura put a hand on Pidge’s shoulder gently. “It’s alright,” she said. “The beeping has stopped, which means the wires have been reconnected. It was another false alarm.” Her voice sounded tired and empty.

“Or Coran just turned the machine off,” Pidge grumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She grimaced slightly at her own aggression and turned to look in the direction Coran and Shiro had just run. “It’s not alright,” she sighed.

Just a minute ago, Coran had been offering Shiro something to eat. The two of them joked about something, their laughs a welcome addition to the stressful atmosphere of the lounge. Then the beeping had started, and almost as soon as a sense of cheerfulness had returned, it was gone again.

Hunk shook his head and sourly said, “Pidge is right. We can’t do this anymore. We need to find out what’s wrong with him.”

Allura hesitated a moment and then nodded solemnly. “And soon. I fear his condition is getting worse.”

The way they talked about Keith now was different. They used his name scarcely, as if they were afraid that attaching it to what was happening it would make it more real. Calling Keith ‘him’ and using the passive voice was a lot easier. It made their problem seem further away. Over the past few days, Pidge couldn’t help but notice that these feeble attempts to hide from the reality right before them were similar to those of everyone at the Garrison when her father and brother had disappeared. A pang of anxiety struck her chest.

She stared at the wide, holographic screen hovering in front of her. For three days, it had been her sole focus. This luminous blue slate suspended in mid-air gave her nothing but disappointment – and it had haunted her for three days. An endless catalogue of alien ailments and medical records were the backdrop of a small loading circle that Pidge had been monitoring for a while now. The icon filled her with dread, but it wasn’t because of its pace. It was the sheer lack of any important information that she was certain its completion would bring. She shoved the laptop away from her and stood up abruptly. Her pent-up frustration finally bubbled over.

 “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” She asked, her voice strained. “Don’t you think I know how bad it is? I’m the one that has to sneak in there every night while he’s sleeping and collect the data from those monitors!” She exclaimed. “I’ve seen him – Keith. I know more than anyone how much we need this – but I can’t just magically find the answer!”

Hunk fumbled with the food in his hands, trying to find something to say in response. He looked up at Pidge, his expression soft and welcoming. “Pidge… I know. I know that you’ve been searching more than the rest of us combined,” he said softly, “But I don’t know what else we can do except try harder.”

Pidge noticed her eyes were wet and she aggressively wiped them on her sleeve. She turned to Allura desperately. “I know that we have to keep the team safe. I do. But after this scan, I can’t do anything else! You’re asking too much of me, Princess,” she said sharply.

Allura winced slightly.

Pidge felt a lump of guilt form in her throat. “I just meant that – I’m not a doctor,” she said, softly this time. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need to apologise, Pidge,” Allura said, understanding.

“Well, I don’t know what else to do,” she replied, her voice wobbling.

Hunk put down what he was holding and walked towards the two girls. Pidge looked at him hesitantly as he made his way towards her. Her bottom lip started to wobble as he reached out to pull her into a hug. The laptop let out a small chime to signal that its scan was completed.

 “You’ve done everything you can, Gunderson,” he smiled warmly, ignoring the sound. “It’s not your fault.”

She suddenly felt guilty for her outburst – but she knew they understood. They were all so exhausted and irrational from worry and frustration. It made sense. Pidge wrapped her arms around Hunk’s big frame and pressed her face against his body. He was the strong presence she needed, and although she would never admit it, she clung to him with relief. He was so soft and so warm that she never wanted to let go.

Pidge was so tired then. If it was of that damned noise or just in general, she couldn’t be sure, but she felt like she could fall asleep right then and there. She had a job to finish, though, so she stood up straight, releasing her grip on Hunk and hastily wiping her eyes. She stepped away from him. A deep breath helped her muster the courage to turn around and face the music.

Allura walked over to the laptop, picking it up gingerly. She read the message aloud:

search of selected 152,291 items

for ‘symptoms’:
‘fever’, ‘high pump rate’, ‘heart’,
‘sickly skin’, ‘irregular pump rate’,
‘collapse’, ‘faint’, ‘blackouts’

0 RESULTS FOUND

The three of them were silent. They sat down glumly.

None of them moved. They were exhausted. Their job was done. They would need to find another way to help Keith.

“That was every medical file you have?” Pidge yawned, defeated.

Allura nodded. “Yes. And you searched them all?”

 “Yeah. With every combination of keywords.”

“…Alright.”

“There are still the books,” Hunk said feebly.

“They’re thousands of years old. But, yes, we still have them.”

Pidge mumbled, “It’ll take a while… and we don't know how long a human heart can last under this kind of stress.”

“There’s no reason to believe that this is… terminal, or that we have a short amount of time to figure this out… We are simply being pessimistic.”

They let empty words leave their mouths, none of them really listening to each other’s responses. They’d had the same discussions numerous times before.

 “Could just be a crazy harmless alien sickness for all we know.”

Hunk’s voice trailed off as an echo of footsteps and voices reached them.

They turned towards the source of the noise with heavy heads to see Coran walk back into the room, sans his portable monitor. Instead, he had blankets bundled up in his arms. There was loud shuffling and talking coming from the corridor behind him. Pidge could vaguely make out the sound of Lance’s voice. Coran waited patiently, scratching his moustache and glancing behind him. A few moments later, Shiro and Lance stumbled through the doorway with a very tired-looking Keith in tow.

Allura let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him. She stood up to let Keith, who was leaning heavily against Shiro and Lance, sit down in her seat, which was closest to Pidge. It seemed like Keith was tired enough that he couldn’t quite walk well enough by himself yet. Shiro and Lance helped him onto the couch with ease, and Coran handed him his things. Pidge turned her body away hastily so that Keith couldn’t see her laptop screen.

She glanced at him, hoping desperately that he hadn’t seen the result. Luckily, he seemed preoccupied. She frowned at him. Something was different. It wasn’t his appearance; his physical condition hadn’t worsened as far as she could tell. His skin was just as pale and sickly as it had been for a while. He did seem agitated, though. She leaned forwards to peer at his face. Keith’s eyes were wandering nervously around the room, unfocused, and his shoulders were tense. His fists were clenched, his face was flushed, and he was avoiding eye contact – was he angry?

Lance, who had made himself comfortable on the adjacent couch, looked back and forth between them. “Uh, right…” He stumbled, “So, Keith’s just gonna chill with us for a while. He’s not feeling so hot being held up in the infirmary for so long.”

Pidge, Hunk and Allura nodded in feigned understanding.

Keith’s gaze flickered towards Lance for a fraction of a moment before he returned to looking at the ground. It was then that Pidge noticed that Keith wasn’t the only tense one in the room. Lance and Shiro’s shoulders were hunched, too, and they seemed to be watching Keith with apprehension.

“What happened?” Pidge asked firmly.

Lance and Shiro exchanged a look. Keith kept his head down.

“I think that Keith just needs a break from the infirmary,” Shiro said.

“Lance already said that,” Pidge pointed out.

Hunk turned to Coran and asked, “What happened with the wires? Was it another false alarm?”

“Something like that.”

Pidge squinted at the lot of them, trying to figure out what they were doing. If they were hiding something, she had no idea why.

Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, Keith lifted his head and sighed, “Lance pulled them out.”

She was baffled. “What?”

“Lance,” Allura said sternly, turning to him slowly, “Was this one of those ‘practical jokes’ you’re always talking about? Because I can assure you this is no laughing matter.”

 “No, he – he had to,” Keith said, interjecting before Lance could defend himself. “I kinda… lost it a bit. Lance was probably just trying to get Coran to come and help him,” he stumbled nervously.

“What do you mean by ‘lost it’?” Hunk asked curiously.

Keith bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable.

“Keith was hallucinating,” Shiro said softly to the three of them. “I don’t know what he saw, but we’re pretty sure it was because of the fever.”

The word ‘hallucinating’ struck Pidge between the eyes like a bullet. As the others looked at Keith with soft, pitiful eyes, her mind went blank. Then, all at once, something clicked, and the gears in her brain went into overdrive. She quickly looked down at her laptop and read the search result again. An idea popped into her head. Please, she thought, closing the dialogue box and typing frantically. Please let this work.

“I was talking to –” Keith cut himself off and shook his head. “I was talking, and Lance said it wasn’t to anyone.”

Lance nodded. “It wasn’t to me, that’s for sure. You were having a conversation, and I wasn’t anywhere near you, or replying.”

“…Yeah,” Keith whispered, diverting his gaze.

“We thought that the best thing to do was probably not to keep Keith locked up in the infirmary alone,” Shiro said, addressing the team and sitting down next to him.

Allura placed her hands on her hips and considered Shiro for a moment. His hand was now on Keith’s shoulder. They both seemed a little more relaxed that way. She smiled. “Of course. I trust your judgement.”

Hunk leaned forward in his seat slightly, fidgeting with his headband. He turned to Shiro and Keith nervously, as if he was scared of something. “But we, uh – we do have some bad news –“

“Shhhh!” Pidge said, silencing Hunk’s nervous stutter and holding up a finger in his direction. Her eyes were glued to her computer screen, so she couldn’t see what Hunk’s reaction to the abrupt interruption was.

Allura turned towards her quizzically, and then her eyes widened upon understanding. She tucked her hair behind her ears, walked closer to where Pidge was sitting, leaned over her shoulder, and saw the spinning wheel icon in the middle of the screen. She let out a small, sharp exhale in surprise, and then knelt next to Pidge with her head in her hands without saying a word. Hunk seemed to understand what was happening, too, but didn’t move from his position. He wrung his hands together in apprehension, ignoring the confused looks from the rest of the group. It turns out the three of them did have a little hope left, after all.

The computer chimed.

Pidge clenched her jaw.

Hunk’s breath hitched.

Allura’s head snapped upwards.

“What?” Lance said, turning to Shiro, Coran and Keith for some sort of clarification. They all shrugged and walked towards Pidge, excluding Keith, who simply had to crane his neck over her right shoulder to see her computer screen.

“I thought the final scans would have been completed vargas ago,” Coran said, examining the ‘100% complete’ pop-up on the screen and scratching his chin.

“This was a new scan,” Pidge said breathlessly, not taking her eyes away from the screen. With her hands slightly shaking, she clicked the button to continue.

search of selected 152,291 items

for ‘symptoms’:
‘fever’, ‘high pump rate’, ‘heart’,
‘sickly skin’, ‘irregular pump rate’,
‘collapse’, ‘faint’, ‘blackouts’,
‘hallucinations’

1 RESULT FOUND:
<resource unavailable>

[MORE INFORMATION]

She read it again; afraid her eyes had played a cruel trick on her. The same thing was there when she combed her eyes over the message for a second and third time. “There’s a result!” She groaned with relief.

Allura buried her face in her hands again. “I cannot believe it!” She whispered, her voice muffled by her smile.

“So you know what’s wrong with Keith, then?” Lance asked eagerly.

“What does ‘resource unavailable’ mean?” Hunk said, pointing to the small text near the bottom of the message.

Pidge hastily clicked the button for more information. She read the following message aloud: “Document titled ‘Galra Series: Blood Contamination’ could not be accessed because it is damaged or corrupted.”

“Blood contamination?” Keith asked, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “What does that mean?”

Pidge bit her lip awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Instead, she ignored him and turned backward in her seat to face Coran, folding up her legs onto the couch. “What exactly could have caused a corruption of the file? I mean, we were these by the Arusians and the Olkari.”

Coran placed a finger on his chin and tapped it slowly. “No, I’m sure that the Olkari and the Arusians wouldn’t have any knowledge of Galra ailments – so this file, in particular, must be from our original archives.”

“From 10,000 years ago?” Hunk frowned. “Maybe they just went bad?”

Pidge shook her head, “Electronic files can’t just ‘go bad’.”

“Wait, but what about that Galra crystal that almost got me killed? That made the castle go bad.” Lance piped up. “And that got into the whole ship’s system, right?”

Coran blinked quickly. “That’s an excellent point. I had to fix many of the systems after that breach, but I don’t recall ever having re-evaluated the archives… It’s very possible that the virus affected some of our older resources.”

“So we can’t do anything to recover it?” Shiro asked hesitantly.

“We don’t need to,” Keith said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, we know who to go to now, right?”

“Who?” Lance asked.

“Oh,” Allura said quietly, looking at Keith. “The Blade of Marmora, of course.”

Chapter Text

“Oh,” Allura said quietly, looking at Keith. “The Blade of Marmora, of course.”

Keith diverted his gaze as the rest of the team let out small murmurs of understanding. His face grew hot with shame. Of course this had to do with the part of his life that he hated bringing up. He barely managed to talk about his training with the Blade of Marmora or his Galra mother when the others asked, now this? He bit his lip hard. Confusion about what it meant to be half-alien was still prominent in Keith’s mind, and he didn’t know what to think about the stigma surrounding his whole race. It came up at political meetings sometimes. The stereotypes and the hate towards the Galra were widespread.

 Keith knew his worries about this were somewhat irrelevant – Allura had apologised to Keith many times for her initial hostility towards him, and the entire Voltron team were now indifferent about his endeavours with the Blade of Marmora – but he still felt uneasy. Come to think of it, he struggled to remember a Galra that the team had really gotten along with. Including himself. Could he blame them though? The Blade of Marmora were hostile at the best of times, not to mention the notorious Galra Empire, comprised of more than half of the Galra species, was killing millions of innocent aliens. Keith regarded himself as similar to these aliens by more than just blood; they shared all their personality traits. Hot-headed, angry, reclusive, cold, anti-social and blunt. You couldn’t exactly blame people for hating someone like that, he thought.

The others were making their way to the control panel on the upper level of the room. Keith looked after them tiredly. For the first time, he noticed how the princess’s feet dragged slightly as she walked. Keith realised that she had probably been up all night worrying about the fate of the universe’s only hope. What would happen if Keith was out of action forever? Allura’s words from a few days ago itched at the back of his brain: “What if one of you were injured in battle? Would the rest of you stop fighting?”

“Come on, Keith,” Hunk said, breaking his train of thought. He was giving Keith his signature, comforting smile and offering him his arm.

Keith accepted his offer, pushing away his intrusive thoughts and standing slowly. He and Hunk walked to the motherboard of the ship together, where the rest of the group were waiting with anticipation as Coran tampered with the controls and Allura smoothed down her hair.

“We’re contacting the closest Blade of Marmora vessel! It shouldn’t take more than a couple ticks,” Coran said, leaning towards the large holographic screen emitting from the motherboard.

He clicked the button labelled ‘BEGIN CALL’. Then, small, animated versions of the castle mice leaped across the screen on loop, accompanied by a ringing tone coming from the speakers. After a moment, the translucent blue image fizzled with static, and then cleared. The ringing tone stopped. A Galran who Keith had never seen before greeted them.

“Hey!” He said in a squeaky voice. “This is the Blade of Marmora. What do you want?”

The boy, unlike Keith had been expecting, was not wearing the usual coverings of a Blade member. Rather, Keith could see the entirety of his face, which was patchy in colour, and youthful. His cheeks were round, dimpled, and pressed up against the bottoms of his eyes, which gleamed with excitement at the prospect of having someone to talk to. His white hair rose on his head in messy little tufts and parts of his braid, which hung over his shoulder, stuck out haphazardly – almost as if to emphasise his young, excited personality. His carefree demeanour in no way matched his athletic stature and chiselled jaw. He looked like a child-man hybrid.

Behind him was the hull of what was obviously a ship belonging to the Blade. It was almost identical in structure to where they currently stood in the Castle of Lions. One big screen was front and centre, and a set of seats were evenly splayed out behind it. Although, rather than five seats for five paladins, there were roughly a dozen workspaces and interfaces set up for the other members of the Blade. Galrans adorning black and purple armour and headdresses faced away from the view of the camera, working at a variety of computers, which looked as if they collectively formed the mainframe of the ship. They chatted and shouted information occasionally, but their voices were just quiet enough to be inaudible. The boy waved into the camera excitedly, tearing Keith’s eyes from the background. He smiled wide, his sharp white teeth hanging over his bottom lip.

Coran squinted and scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

The boy’s yellow eyes shot open suddenly. “Uh – sorry! I’m Zilevis. Should I have said that? Oh, no – I’m meant to say: how can I help you?”

 “Could we speak to your… commander?” Coran asked hesitantly.

Zilevis frowned. “Huh? Who are you, though?”

Allura stepped into the boy’s view, a look of confusion plastered on her face. “I am Allura, daughter of King Alfor of Altea, and on behalf of the paladins of Voltron, it is imperative that we speak with a commander of your vessel.” She squinted and leaned forward, awaiting his response as if she had given him a secret password and was waiting for confirmation that she’d guessed it right.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Whoa! Whoa! You’re Voltron?” He yelled excitedly into the screen. The audio on their end crackled with the sudden increase of noise. Keith flinched.

Allura put a hand out in an attempt to quiet Zilevis, but it did nothing to quell the boy’s excitement. He turned away and yelled to the room of preoccupied workers behind him, “Guys! Guys! It’s Voltron!”

A few of the others turned around reluctantly to acknowledge the commotion. Most ignored Zilevis’ shouts.

Keith frowned and looked at the rest of the paladins, all of whom were failing to hide smiles at the young Galran’s excitement. A bitter feeling crept up on Keith that he couldn’t name. It must’ve shown, because Hunk gave him a small nudge in the side.

“C’mon, it’s kinda cute,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Keith shrugged in response.

Coran attempted to interrupt the boy’s celebration. “Actually, Princess Allura is not Voltron, per say, but she is currently the pilot of the blue-“

“Uncle! Uncle!” The boy yelled to someone off-screen, ignoring Coran. “They actually called, and I answered just like you told me to! No mistakes!”

A large figure, which was previously out of their field of view, approached from the blurred background with heavy footsteps. Now, all of the members turned in their chairs to watch the interaction, many of them looking weary. The figure glanced in the direction of the screen once, and twice, almost as if in disbelief, and then put a hand on Zilevis’ shoulder, gaining his attention. The smaller grinned up at the hooded figure, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I didn’t think they’d call, uncle!” Zilevis said. He put his arms behind his back and stood tall just like they taught kids to do at the Garrison. “I thought you just made me do this so I would be out of the way, but I guess not. Thank you.” He shuffled his feet around and stared at the ground, smiling.

The figure didn’t reply. He simply turned his head pointedly towards the now distracted Galrans surrounding them.

Zilevis looked around. After a moment, he seemed to catch on. “I’m sorry I disrupted the work!”

“And?” A muffled, deep voice prompted, tapping the side of his face.

“Oh… I forgot to wear my mask,” he answered. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

The figure nodded in agreement and then leant in to whisper something to Zilevis. The boy nodded and walked off-screen looking glum. The Galran figure walked up to the where the boy once stood and ordered the others around him to continue their work.

Coran stood up straight and smoothed down his clothes, seemingly just realising how improper he looked. “Greetings! I’m not entirely certain if we’ve formally met before,” he said.

The figure took his hood and mask off, revealing large pointed ears and dull yellow eyes. His face looked as if it was sculpted from stone; cold and tough. His strong jaw, severely protruding cheekbones and huge scar did nothing to make his expression anything less than domineering, but Coran seemed to relax considerably.

“Oh!” He piped, somewhat abandoning his formal stance and façade. “Well, I didn’t realise it was you, Kolivan!”

 “I apologise for the unprofessionalism,” he said. His gravelly voice was soothing to Keith’s ears after Zilevis’. “My nephew has recently completed his training. We are trying to find a suitable position for him here.” Kolivan rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “We were trialling him as a… receptionist of sorts today as, unfortunately, I did not foresee a call from you so soon after the last meeting, Princess.”

Lance stifled a snort. “Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to be a receptionist when you’re done, too,” he whispered at Keith.

“Do you require the assistance of our soldiers?”

“Not quite,” Allura said, pursing her lips. Her expression implied that she was suddenly unsure about asking the Blade of Marmora for assistance; she glanced back at Keith with uncertainty. They made eye contact and, suddenly, her expression turned stony and determined. “We’re calling to ask for medical advice.”

Kolivan frowned. “I don’t believe I could be of assistance, unfortunately. You are the only Alteans I have ever met.”

“Actually, it is one of the paladins that is unwell.”

“Likewise with humankind.”

“It’s Keith. That’s why we’ve called you in particular,” she said firmly.

“We were hoping you could help,” Shiro said, taking a step towards the screen, positioning himself next to Allura so he was in Kolivan’s sight. “We think he has something called ‘blood contamination’?”

“On what basis? That’s quite a serious assumption to make,” Kolivan said, his face visibly paling. His shoulders dropped slightly. “And in such a short amount of time since our last session – may I see him?”

Allura and Coran stepped to the side, allowing Kolivan to see past them, where Keith stood. Just when Keith thought his heart couldn’t physically beat any faster. What would his mentor and teacher – no, his commander – think of him in this state? He cursed under his breath. Kolivan and the others were just starting to think he could be something.

Kolivan’s eyes widened slightly when he saw Keith. He called out behind him without diverting his gaze from the red paladin, “Connect our doctor to the call, please. Audio only – but say it’s urgent.”

“Aye aye, capn’! Callin’ the doc!” Zilevis yelled from off screen.

The audio stream crackled slightly. Both sides were silent for a moment. Keith’s face grew hot under Kolivan’s unwavering stare.

Finally, a silken voice broke the awkwardness. “I’ll have you know I was busy,” it said.

“We are currently on-call with Princess Allura. She has reason to believe that one of the…” He cleared his throat abruptly. “One of our colleagues is experiencing blood contamination.”

Silence.

“Let’s hope not. What are the patient’s symptoms?” The voice asked.

Keith wrung his hands together nervously, realising only after no one else spoke that it was he who had to answer the question. He fumbled for a moment, drawing blanks. The question reminded him of his earlier discussion with Lance. He bit his lip. “I don’t know – restlessness?” He managed to mumble.

“How much sleep have you gotten?”

“Uh…” Keith glanced down at his hands, counting on his fingers quickly. “About eight vargas.”

“Every night?”

“In the last three quintents,” he croaked.

Lance let out a low whistle.

“…What else?” The smooth voice prodded.

“I guess my heart’s beating fast? Look – I don’t know what you want me to say,” he bit.

“Should we say… irritability?”

“No, he’s always like that,” Coran interjected. “But he does have a heartrate of 142 pumps per dobash.”

“And a high fever,” Pidge said.

Allura tapped her chin, thinking. “Fainting and blackouts,” she added.

Shiro said, “Sickly skin.”

“Hallucinations,” Lance half-whispered.

Kolivan shook his head softly while the sound of long claws clacking against a keyboard echoed through the speakers. When the doctor spoke, the verdict seemed to worry Kolivan immensely.

“I do agree with your diagnosis. The symptoms are consistent with my notes.”

“What does that mean?” Coran asked.

When the doctor spoke again, the steady, even and controlled voice barely hid a sudden anger that was directed solely at Keith. “That means that I’m not concerned about your wellbeing, but your complete disregard for precious resources. Whether this was accidental or intentional, such a complete waste of the very substance our soldiers are risking their lives to gather –”

Anxiety bubbled in Keith’s chest. This is exactly what he didn’t need; his decent reputation within the Blade of Marmora destroyed because of some stupid sickness.

“With all due respect, we should not jump to conclusions,” Kolivan interrupted. He turned to Keith. “Have you been in direct contact with large quantities of quintessence?”

“Why?” Keith urged, suddenly feeling attacked. “If you want to know, tell me why.”

No one spoke. Even when Kolivan pointedly nodded to the doctor, showing his concession to Keith’s request. The room stayed silent until he gave spoken approval.

“Blood poisoning, as you call it, refers to quintessence corrosion in the blood,” the doctor said plainly.

“That sounds awfully serious,” Allura whispered.

“It is,” the doctor replied harshly. “All cases lead to death if untreated.”

Shiro visibly paled. His arms fell to his sides and his mouth fell open slightly as the team gave Keith broken, wide eyed looks.

“Corrosion?” Coran inquired, disregarding the sudden reveal. “How can an energy source corrode something? Doesn’t quintessence replenish everything it touches?”

Kolivan shook his head impatiently. “Quintessence is often wrongly thought of as a flawless energising substance. Raw quintessence, indeed, has the highest known energy per unit volume in the universe – but the common perception of raw quintessence in itself is flawed,” he said. “The substance absorbs certain things upon contact. As soon as it is extracted from a planet it becomes impure because of the means by which we extract it. The only truly pure quintessence can be found in the layer between realities, such as the one Zarkon used thousands of years ago.”

“If our patient has come into contact with it, it was most likely absorbed into the body, and hasn’t been burnt off yet,” the doctor elaborated. “The quintessence, with its impurities, is slowly increasing in toxicity in the patient’s body. Although, the amount of quintessence required for this outcome is huge. Our bodies usually burn quintessence faster than it can contaminate the bloodstream and reach a notable toxicity.”

“So, what’re you saying? It’s turning him crazy like it did to Zarkon?” Hunk cried.

“No, not exactly,” Kolivan said, his voice bitter. “Zarkon and Honerva were exposed to quintessence during their daily lives – through their study of it. Eventually, they became addicted to the power contact with it gave them. They infused small amounts into their bodies over time; their exposure was long term.”

“In the very few cases we’ve seen of this, the quintessence inside the body exponentially grows in toxicity while the body tries desperately to burn it off by over-exerting itself. Hence the heartrate and the restlessness we see in patients. Eventually it becomes too much, and the body gives in.”

“But you said it’d take a hell of a lot of quintessence to actually do whatever this is – right?” Pidge asked, pushing her glasses up by the lens. She, Hunk, and Lance, were drawn closer to the screen by the convoluted explanation and were now in Kolivan’s sight.

They looked as dumbfounded as Keith felt. He crossed his arms and stared downwards, rocking on the balls of his feet. He’d had never been in contact with that much quintessence before – had he? He thought he’d remember drowning in a pool of blindingly yellow, glorified petrol. His heart thumped uncomfortably against the inside of his chest. How could you enjoy this in the slightest? Keith tried to picture Zarkon or Haggar feeling the way he did now.

He frowned. An old memory itched at the back of his mind. There was something he was forgetting.

He held out his hands palms down in front of him. The memory resurfaced.

A masked, cloaked figure. Two cylindrical containers of luminous yellow liquid, each taller than he. He has to be quiet. A clash – purple light spreads out between them. He pushes his sword against the force as hard as he can, but he’s no match for magic; it’s no use. His hand burns as he goes flying, flying, flying… His back hits one of the thousands of cylinders lined up on the giant shelves and the glass behind him rattles. He curls up into a ball. His hand is purple. The ray of magic coming right at him is, too, he realises. He dodges it, only to be doused in something wet. A wave of energy and heat overcomes him.

“I think you’re right,” Keith mumbled, his voice shaky with shock.

They all looked at him. Kolivan’s expression darkened.

Shiro face fell. “What?” He whispered.

“Do you guys remember when we discovered the location of that transport hub? I don’t think I ever told you, because we were so preoccupied by getting Allura back, but I ran into someone when we were there,” Keith explained. “I didn’t know then, but I think it was Haggar. She broke this big glass container of quintessence while I was right next to it and it went all over me.”

He turned to the screen expectantly.

The doctor inquired further. “How much was in the container, may I ask?”

“I don’t know, but I think it was their standard amount. They had shelves and shelves of the stuff – all in the same containers,” he replied weakly.

 “The average unit of quintessence is certainly not enough to cause you this much trouble. Unless…” The doctor pondered aloud. There was the sound of a long inhale of realisation. “That explains the heartrate. You’re not one of our oper-”

 “That will be all for now,” Kolivan said sternly, stifling further conversation. For the first time ever, he looked overwhelmed.  

“Kolivan, why would you only enable-”

He looked at Allura directly. “I will have my operatives compile all known treatment options immediately. Expect a call from me soon. For now, I suggest you all rest. You look in desperate need.”

The connection cut off abruptly. A static buzz hummed from the speakers and a blank screen with a big red ‘X’ hung before them.

Six of them stared blankly and confusedly at the projection. One walked silently to the couch and threw himself on it. They mumbled among themselves. Pidge, Lance and Hunk whispered to each other tiredly. Allura placed a comforting hand on Shiro’s shoulder and said something to him that elicited a small thankful smile from both him and Coran. Keith rubbed his eyes harshly, leant back, and grabbed one of the blankets he’d brought with him from the infirmary.

He crossed his arms harshly, wrapping the blanket around him tightly, and retreated to the furthest corner of the couch. For so long, he had dreamed of getting up and running around, or even just leaving that wretched bed. Now, he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in that room and pretend that he wasn’t exhausted and disheartened at the sudden realisation that he could quite literally die. Unwilling to even try and discuss it with these people, who, excluding Shiro, he had known for less than a few months, he pretended to be asleep on the couch. It was a problem for tomorrow, he decided.

It wasn’t long before Coran laid a blanket over him and dimmed the lights, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance lay on the couch around him, and Allura softly rested her head on his shoulder. Though he’d never admit it – the wet pressure behind his eyes grew stronger at all these things. He wondered why, though, he felt so undeserving of these acts of kindness. He wondered why, when Shiro wrapped an arm around him and said something in a wobbly voice that evoked a pang of sadness from the deepest part of Keith, he still felt the urge to push them away.

Like everything else, he locked the thought away for another time, and fell asleep replaying Shiro’s words in his mind.

“Guess it’s my turn to save you now, huh, kiddo?”

Chapter Text

Kolivan leaned against the wall of his sleeping quarters heavily, pondering what was to come. He crossed his arms and set himself into a defensive posture at the sound of approaching footsteps. It would not be pleasant – it never was. He rubbed his hand over his face in anticipation. There was no doubt in his mind that the approaching footsteps belonged to the doctor. Kolivan knew that she would come and find him now, in his resting hours, and chew him out for hiding something from her. She’d burst in his room with a flaring sense of injustice (as she always did when he overruled her) and argue with him until he overruled her once again. She had a terrible temper. This, of course, was quite the statement coming from him.

He sighed. He had to admit that she was more than capable in her position of chief medical advisor, but considering their vastly different positions in the chain of command, her behaviour towards him was unacceptable. He was annoyed by the fact that his previous reprimands for her incompliance had never meant anything to her.

They’d have to put up with each other to some small capacity. For the boy’s sake, if anything. She’d know that, at least.

Nonetheless, he did not look forward to her visit.

His door slammed open suddenly. Wearily, Kolivan turned his head towards the sound. He saw a lean figure in the doorway. Her hands were on her hips, however, they did not rest there. They clenched. Her long nails dug into the material of her uniform.

“How, exactly,” she growled, baring her teeth, “do you expect me to do my job when I’m not even made aware of the species of my patient?”

Kolivan stared at her indifferently, keeping his back straight against the wall. “You must be well aware of my motives already. Confidentiality is key when it comes to patients whom I believe you will give preferential treatment. I’ve told you before, I hold the right to deny you certain information about a patient I assign you.”

She stepped towards him aggressively, her finger in his face. “So you thought you’d keep me in the dark and lead me to believe I’m treating one of our own undercover operatives?”

Kolivan inhaled sharply, clenching his jaw. “Your judgement is clouded.”

“Then why assign me the patient?” She snapped.

“You know very well that anyone here would be biased towards a Paladin. I did believe, however, that as the head of medicine, doctor, you would be capable of distancing yourself for the sake of objectivity.”

The compliment went over her head. She hissed, “Are you aware that human bodies burn quintessence four times slower than our bodies? He’ll die four times as fast as one of us!”

“It’s astonishing that you would have the audacity to come in here and reprimand me –“

“Why, because you’re my boss?” She scoffed.

Kolivan stepped towards her abruptly and slapped her finger out of his face. “Because, doctor, this has nothing to do with his anatomy, and you know it.”

“You’re worried that I’ll treat him better than other patients. Of course I will, commander,” she said, spitting the last word from her mouth like poison. “If anyone should be held at priority it’s him. He’s one of ours and a member of Voltron. Respectfully, I think you’re the one with an objectivity problem.”

Kolivan met her burning gaze. For a long moment, neither of them moved nor spoke. Tension fizzled in the air. A fuse which was extinguished long ago sparked again as the doctor and the commander locked eyes, fighting a silent battle for dominance. Then, the doors slid open gently. Both of them turned their heads to the source of the noise. A small face poked through the doorway apprehensively. Kolivan sighed, diverted his gaze and nodded at his nephew to speak.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he stammered. “I just thought I’d tell you that I’ve called the Voltron people like you asked. They’re on their way now.”

Kolivan opened his mouth to question his nephew, but the doctor raised her hand to silence him.

“I was the one who asked him to contact the Princess. We have to administer treatment as soon as possible.” Her tone was condescending and it dared Kolivan to defy her judgement. Then, her facial expression changed. She raised her eyebrows and placed a hand on her chest in fake concern. “Oh, but I hope that was alright with you.”

“Of course,” Kolivan said, nodding. He met the doctor’s challenge with stone cold eyes. “And you asked them politely not to bring the patient with them – lest the pressure of space travel be too harsh on him?”

The doctor frowned in confusion at his question.

“Yep!” Zilevis responded.

The doctor turned towards the young boy quickly, just understanding that Kolivan had not been speaking to her. The young Galran grinned at her innocently, assuming he had done her a favour. She turned back to Kolivan, whose face looked like it was carved from stone. He leaned towards her, his brow creasing slightly and his eyes sending a message that only a commander’s could. Their gazes met and his cold gaze said: ‘I know everything that happens on this ship.’

“I hope that was alright with you, doctor,” Kolivan said calmly. “Or, did you want him here?”

She bared her teeth at him, a low growl forming in the back of her throat.

“I don’t see why you would,” he continued, his voice now monotone. “You informed me that the treatment is quite easy to administer. I assumed that our visitors could take what they needed and give it to the patient themselves.”

She clenched her jaw and shook her head. “I hope, for your sake, that they return to him before he becomes untreatable.”

Kolivan set his shoulders back and motioned towards the door. The doctor left without another word.

Keith’s eyes bore into the ceiling, stinging as he wondered exactly what time it was. His eyes raked over the high, white expanse above him for the thousandth time. He wasn’t quite sure how he was feeling. He was sure of nothing except that he could probably describe, in excruciating detail, the ceiling of the lounge room from memory. Even if his life depended on it. Not that that sentiment meant anything now. If Kolivan didn’t deliver on his promise soon, it was only a matter of time until Keith’s heart turned the ceiling into a red Pollock painting.

Keith smirked at the dark thought. He had been awake for far too long. It felt like hours since Kolivan had hung up on them. Desperate for anything resembling sleep, he closed his eyes and wrapped his blanket tightly around his head. Perhaps that way he could trick himself into thinking that he could only hear his heart beating so loud because his ears were covered. It almost worked. His eyes began to flutter shut and he let himself ride the wave of dizziness that came before sleep. Slowly, his breaths became deeper and his body sunk into the couch. However, the drumming that resonated inside his ribcage and his feeling of constant jitteriness woke him almost as soon as he started to feel his consciousness slip away. He longed for the miracle of hours ago when he drifted off for a small time. It was more likely that he had blacked out, not fallen asleep, but he craved the sensation none the less.

He wondered morbidly if he’d ever get the opportunity to sleep again.

With a small groan, Keith dragged himself out of his trance-like state and stood slowly, watching as Coran worked away at the ship’s mainframe. Keith frowned at the man’s strained face as he slowly made his way to stand next to him. He squinted at the map Coran was watching intently and rubbed his dry eyes when the light of the screen before him stung them harshly.

“Keith,” Coran said, failing to hide his surprise, “I didn’t think you’d wake up for a while.”

“I didn’t sleep,” Keith replied sluggishly, raising an eyebrow. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, there’s a chair over there if you’d like to sit with me,” Coran said, waving a hand to the space beside him dismissively.

Keith turned to him slowly. “No,” he said curtly, “I can stand.”

Coran sat straighter and gave Keith a forced smile.

“So, what’re you doing?” Keith pressed, growing uncomfortable with Coran’s sudden change in behaviour.

“They’ll be back soon,” Coran said, worrying at his lip. “I’m just having some technical issues.”

Keith’s head began to throb, so he quietly took his place in the seat beside Coran. “Where did they go?” He asked, concerned at the tight look on Coran’s face.

Once again failing to hide guilt, Coran turned to Keith with wide eyes. “They arrived at Kolivan’s ship two vargas ago. I haven’t heard from them since.”

They were cheered on by Zilevis from a nearby platform as Lance docked their small, Altean, cargo ship. Allura felt a smile creep onto her face when she noticed his bouncing, energetic form and the contrast it posed to Kolivan’s authoritative and aggressive demeanour. She and Hunk smiled back at the boy and waved to him as they disembarked the ship. He grinned and looked over to his uncle, who seemed indifferent, for approval. Kolivan gave him a pointed look, and Zilevis straightened his back and stood tall and official in response.

Allura stifled a giggle. He looked like a child trying to play soldier.

“Kolivan,” Allura said, adopting a more professional manner and diverting her gaze from Zilevis.

“Princess,” Kolivan greeted. “How is he?”

Allura blinked repeatedly, stunned by the abruptness in his tone. “Uh- well. He’s… he’s not worse, I suppose,” she scrambled.

He nodded in understanding.

Zilevis beamed at Allura with a noticeable glimmer in his eyes. “H-Hello, ma’am,” he whispered, reaching his arm towards her.

She accepted his shy handshake and gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for your call, Zilevis. It’s very nice to meet you,” she said.

He blushed profusely when Allura clasped his hand, and his eyes shimmered with joy when she remembered his name.

“It’s nice to meet you all, too,” he grinned.

“Dude, you’re like, two times Pidge’s height,” Lance scoffed, reaching his hand upwards to mark the top of Zilevis’ head.

Hunk shook his head. “Double? Lance, you’re double Pidge’s height. This kid is double you.”

“That’s four Pidges!” Lance remarked.

Pidge hit Lance hard in the side. “Shut up! Galrans are way taller than humans. Besides, I’m probably way younger than Zilevis,” she said, pushing up her glasses by the lens. “Right?”

“I’m ten,” Zilevis beamed. “How old are you?”

Lance and Hunk giggled with glee. Pidge crossed her arms and smirked up at the older Paladins.

“What’s that look for?” Hunk chuckled.

She grinned, shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “You guys are even older than me.”

Lance stuttered in his haste to defend himself, “T-That’s not the point!”

Allura was too preoccupied with sizing up their new host to notice the conversation. Her eyes flickered towards the tall, thin, armoured figure beside Kolivan. She glanced towards the commander for a moment, confused as to why he had not introduced them, then extended a hand in greeting. The soldier took her hand and Allura shook it firmly, trying to recall the few lessons about handshakes and diplomacy that her father had once given her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess,” the soldier said, her voice smooth and low.

Allura frowned at the familiarity of the voice. “I apologise, but have we met before?” She asked quietly.

“C’mon that one never works, Allura,” Lance teased from behind her.

“You must be the doctor we spoke to earlier,” Shiro said, stepping forward and shaking her hand, too.

She and Kolivan nodded silently.

Allura looked at the two of them. They stood at an awkwardly far distance, their body language stiff and controlled. Something about it didn’t seem quite right. More so, something about the doctor ruffled Allura’s feathers. The way she stood with her arms crossed and her legs planted on the ground firmly seemed familiar to her. She thought of her mother for a brief moment, trying to remember if her posture was anything like the doctor’s.

There was a moment of silent, mutual consideration between them before the doctor spoke.

“We should get the medicine.” She snapped suddenly, turning towards the bay doors. “The longer we wait, the more likely the treatment will not work. Follow me.”

Allura swallowed hard. She and Shiro exchanged a frightened glance as she turned around and strode towards the bay doors without elaboration.

“She’s not known for her patience,” Kolivan explained with a low growl. “But she’s the best doctor we have.”

Allura nodded in understanding, though she disagreed with his disapproving tone of voice. If this really was a matter of time, she preferred that the doctor acted this way. The more direct she was, the sooner they could get their hands on the medicine they needed for Keith. The sooner this whole mess was over, and the sooner they could go back to saving the universe.

The group followed the doctor as she marched through the hallways of the ship with an unsettling sense of urgency. They wove through countless hallways of purple doors and turned sharply into dozens of corridors that looked almost identical. Closed doors lined each area they passed through and the sound of other Blade members arguing or talking in garbled whispers echoed softly throughout the entire compound. Though, they had no time to stop and listen to these voices even if they wanted to. Evidently, the doctor was not taking into consideration the comparatively small legs of her guests. After nearly losing her around a bend, Allura seriously considered changing into her taller form so she could keep up.

“This way,” the doctor called out behind her, waving an arm to beckon them.

Allura jogged for a moment to meet her at a large, amber door. Shiro stopped next to them and pressed his palms against his knees, puffing from the exertion.

The doctor placed a clawed hand on the panel next to the door, waiting a moment as a red beam scanned it for confirmation. With a startling whoosh, the door flew open. She positioned herself before the door protectively.

“Only two of you may join me,” she said, her voice rumbling with authority.

Allura nodded, the Blade of Marmora had always had strict security protocol. She turned to Shiro. His face was strained, and Allura immediately recognised that it wasn’t only because of the physical exertion. She took a deep breath and chewed at the side of her cheek. There was no way Shiro wasn’t going to be involved in every part of this process. Hesitantly, she turned to Hunk and Lance, who stood patiently behind her. She was vaguely aware that Kolivan and Pidge had dropped off from the back of their group.

“Go on, Allura,” Lance said with a reassuring smile. “We’ll hang here with our new bud.”

Zilevis beamed and slung an arm over Lance and Hunk’s shoulders. A little frown crept onto Lance’s face as he had to arch his neck upwards to look at the boy.

Allura nodded to Lance and Hunk in appreciation and turned to the doctor, who stepped aside to let her and Shiro in. She hesitated for a moment, warned the boys not to break anything, and immediately closed the door behind her.

The strong light of the room momentarily blurred Allura’s vision, so she blinked harshly. When she opened her eyes, she struggled to stifle a gasp of amazement. The room was almost twice the size of the training deck in the Castle of Lions. Long, barred lights hung from the arched expanse of the ceiling, illuminating the room with a white, cool light. It reflected off an array of glossy, worn books that lined the walls in tall, bursting bookshelves, making them seem like they were glistening. It danced through coloured vials and half-filled beakers that covered workbenches, desks and locked glass cases. Unmasked members of the Blade worked intensively. A few of them sat at desks, typing away at multiple keyboards, their eyes unmoving from technologically pristine monitors. Two simply wandered through the bookshelves with holographic screens following them about.

Shiro whistled.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” The doctor asked, failing to hide her pride. “This is the medical resource centre for our entire organisation.”

Holding her breath, Allura took a step closer to the shelves. She ran her hand softly over the thickly bound books in front of her, awestruck. Each book was completely different than the next. Languages and characters that Allura had never seen before riddled the spines, the names of the texts and their authors completely unknown to her. She stepped back and smiled fondly at the room. Having digitised files was one thing. Seeing all this knowledge and power in one place was another entirely.

“It reminds me of the library I used to visit in Altea,” she said softly.

Shiro smiled at her comfortingly as the doctor walked quickly to the wall beside them. Her masked head moved slowly from side to side as she looked for something. She stepped forward abruptly in front of a black box fixed to the wall, then placed her palm in the centre of it. The box did nothing. They watched as the doctor, seeming to expect this, stepped back slightly and pressed a small button on the back of her neck. Her helmet retracted into the back of her armour, enabling her to lean forward and allow a beam to scan her retina. When a small green light signaled confirmation of her authorisation, the box collapsed into the wall. All of its sides disappeared with a mechanical whirr, leaving three small, black shelves in their place. The doctor reached confidently for a small, innocuous vial of grey sludge, but a loud blaring noise stopped her in her tracks.

Allura slammed her palms against her ears at the sound of the screeching. It was a deafening, shrill sound that sliced her head with pain immediately. It echoed throughout the room, the glass vials scattered around the lab shaking and clinking against each other. The lights across the room suddenly turned red and flashed steadily.

Shiro shouted something in the direction of the doctor, but Allura couldn’t hear him or see his mouth well enough to read his lips. He also had his hands over his ears, and they watched in utter confusion as the other members of the Blade frantically rushed around the room to different monitors.

“Save it,” Allura saw one of them yell desperately to another across the room, “Before they shut down!”

The doctor quickly grabbed the vial, slamming her palm into the wall beside the box to close it again. She clasped the substance tightly in one hand, while she used the other to re-engage her headgear. The doctor did not turn around before masking herself again, Allura noted. Quickly, she turned to her guests. The vial glistened in her hand as she thrust it towards Shiro and shouted something at them. She shook her head and motioned to the doctor that she could not hear.

The doctor gestured desperately for them to stay put.

Allura nodded and immediately turned to grab Shiro’s arm. He had begun to rush towards the exit, concerned for Lance and Hunk, who were still outside. She kept one hand firmly pressed against the side of her head, the wailing of the alarm making her head ache, and the other latched onto Shiro as though she might lose him amongst the chaos. Then, almost as suddenly as the sound had begun, it ceased.

The lights above them dimmed so low that Allura was not even sure that they were on at all.

The sound of a piston firing came from the amber door behind them.

The doctor, who had made her way to her associates and was frantically assisting them, stopped dead in her tracks. Her shoulders fell. She turned to Allura and Shiro slowly.

“We’ve been compromised,” she said, her voice small.