Chapter Text
Shiro decides that the universe is not the same without Keith. There's strong evidence pointing to this, and then there are the more subtle hints. And, of course, there’s simply the overall shift of the team. More solemn, not relaxed but definitely sunken. They used to have seven pair of arms holding up the weight of the universe, and suddenly there were only six.
Shiro noticed these shifts. The ways the team interacted and what they got up too in their free time.
Lance seemed to take it harder than most. Since Red had accepted him as her new paladin -Shiro didn't want to think about that because it meant that she thought Keith really wasn't coming back- he'd started pushing himself. At first Shiro was happy to see the improvements in battle. But, after a while, it became apparent that Lance didn't know when to stop pushing. He trained like he had something to prove, and Shiro worried that the new red paladin truly did think that was the case.
Allura was having difficulties, too. Blue had taken her in and the princess was improving -at an alarming rate, of Shiro was honest- but she was still months behind every other paladin. With that and the negotiations that she had to balance with training Shiro had begun to suspect that she'd stopped sleeping ball together.
The same could be said for Pidge. Since the disappearance she'd been locking herself in the Lab, hardly coming out and even then it was solely for bathroom purposes. Shiro could only sleep at night because he regularly saw Hunk going in with plates of food and out with empty ones.
Not that he really slept.
There were new people to help, of course. Allies seemed to be cropping up from all across the universe. Slav, the Merfolk Lance and Hunk had run into, and of course the Blade.
The Blade of Marmora was quite possibly their strongest ally. Their numbers outranked any other armada that'd pledged themselves to Voltron and their combat skills were advanced beyond imagination. Not to mention the fact that they'd apparently planted multiple double agents among the Galra Empire forces.
Which, you know, probably wasn't that hard. Seeing as they were all Galra.
It took some adjusting to. Not even just the fact that they were Galra - though that was a large portion of it. But on top of that, their overall secretivity. Every time that they met, even when they seemed to be revealing themselves more and more, Shiro couldn't help the suspicion that there was something major that they were hiding from the team.
“Why do you call yourselves the Blade of Marmora?” Shiro asked one day after a strategy meeting. Allura and Coran had -graciously- excused themselves the tick the meeting was called to a close. Lance had disappeared into the training room of their base, chasing the literal tail of a taller female. Pidge and Hunk had requested a small tour, which Kholivan had instructed a begrudging Antok to lead, which left Shiro, Kholivan himself, and the Blade’s head spy, a female Shiro had come to know as Brae.
The two Galra exchanged a questioning glance -having long since forgone their ominous masks- before Brae shrugged and returned to looking at a small device held in her claw. What a teenager.
(Did Galra have age groups like teenagers? Shiro made a note to ask)
“The Old Gods,” Kholivan began, running his hand down his scalp and dragging his braid over his shoulder, “were the deities that we worshipped before Zarkon’s reign. Since then, it seemed like religion was a second priority at best and thus the gods were forgotten. Marmora was goddess of war and protection, yes, but also balance and just trial. War for peace, as the elders called it.”
Seeing his confusion, Brae stepped in. “Zarkon wars as a quest for power. He fight not because he must, but because he has the means and therefore can. Marmora was -as legend had it- the protector of the gods. She defended their kingdom from harm not because she wanted to, but because if she didn't thousands would die.”
“Precisely,” Kholivan nodded, “She was said to have sword that could kill with a single blow, but only harmed the truly guilty. She had a saying, which we’ve adopted. I don't know if there's a human translation for it, but it goes,” he made a series of hissing and grunting noises from deep in his chest. Allura had explained eons ago that the paladin armor had built in translators that transferred any alien language to the wearer's native tongue. Suddenly hearing something on the Galra native tongue was startling, to say the least.
“The closest translation would mean something like ‘true power is mercy’.” Brae helped, suddenly tapping furiously at her device. “My apologies, I must be excused.” She nodded her head, bowing out of the room, the doors opening and shutting behind her. Right as she left, though -right before the door fully shut- Shiro swears he saw her lift the device and hiss “Keith,” into it before fully disappearing.
The next time Shiro gets a chance to interact Brae outside of a meeting, she's in the training deck. It'd been a month since their defeat of Zarkon. War messes with people’s persona schedules like that. Hunk and Lance were working on a small-scale mission, Pidge was slaving away over a two second video clip Coran was helping with, and Allura was doing diplomatic princess things. And Shiro? Shiro was still looking. The universe had moved on from the missing Red Paladin and Shiro was still fucking looking.
Sometimes, he worried that Keith had forgotten his promise. Had forgotten that he'd promised Shiro that he'd come back. Sometimes he worried Keith had moved on all together. That he'd found someone and decided that whoever it was was more important than the universe. Than Voltron. Than earth.
Than the team.
Than Shiro.
He wondered if this was some sort of cruel revenge plan. If Keith had never really forgiven Shiro for going on the Kerberos mission and this was his twisted way of getting back at him. But Shiro decided that if he really thought that, then he'd really forgotten what Keith was really like. He was letting Lance’s caricature of him cloud the true personality of his longest friend.
Shiro watched the Galra commander train for what probably toed the line of being too long. He couldn't help it, though. She moved with a fluidity and poise that couldn't be taught. It was a natural comfort in the midst of chaos that Shiro envied. She fought with two weapons, a knife and a sword, both embellished with the Blade’s sigil. As she dueled the training Gladiator, Shiro couldn't help being impressed.
When the training simulation ended, Brae sheathed both blades and bent down to grab the towel by her feet and wipe her face.
“You can stop staring, Black Paladin,” she smiled into the towel before tossing it over her shoulder and turning to face him. As she did, he saw the lights reflecting off of small dots of something in her large ears. Upon closer inspection, Shiro saw that they were actually small gems that littered the shell of her cat-like appendages, almost like earrings. But there were so many. Some of them were black, Other a startling silver. Occasionally there were some that Shiro couldn't even name a color for, and right at the center was a multi-faced one, each side pulsing a different shade of red.
“That's a beautiful gem,” Shiro said, gesturing loosely to the stone. For the longest time, he'd gotten the impression that any time they were in a room together she was judging him. For reasons he couldn't explain, he was determined for her to like him.
That tripped her up. Her hand-claw-whatever brushed it self-consciously, and she averted her gaze. “Thank you, it's from Krasniir, the locals call it the Broken Planet. Something about the surface not connected but held loosely together through the gravitational force. Kind of like your moon.”
“Were you there for an assignment?”
“No, actually,” her gaze became steely, “a friend got it for me. He's been traveling a lot recently.”
Shiro remembered the call she'd received.
“A friend? Seems almost like a lover’s gift. On earth, usually jewelry is a sign of affection.”
“Marmora and her followers used jewels as a sign of victory. After every battle won they would add another piercing to their body.” She narrowed her yellow eyes. “Galra culture, you wouldn't understand.”
There was a tense pause.
Neither wanted to break first, and Shiro didn't really know why.
Finally she rolled her eyes, letting out a loose sigh and sitting into her hip, “Apologies, Black Paladin. I did not mean to create a rift between us. Now more than ever the Blade of Marmora must stand strong with the paladins of Voltron.”
“Well then,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I suppose that means you wouldn't mind telling me how long you've been in contact with Keith Kogane.” In all honesty, he didn't actually think it would work. He thought she'd either deny it or tell him that it was a different Keith that'd called her. That he'd imagined it all in the first place. She did none of those things. Instead, she looked longingly at her space phone, over in a corner by her space water bottle.
“Your former Red Paladin and I met almost half of one of your earth years ago.” That was only weeks after he'd left. “He was lost like an infant Yupper, with far more questions than answers. So I took him here, to the Blade.”
Shiro’s robotic arm clenched into a fist at his side. “The Blade’s known where he was all this time?!” He shouted, “Is he here somewhere? Why hasn't he attempted to make any contact with us? Were his family! Not the Blade!”
“Do you know nothing?” She shouted right back, “you were never his family! Earth was never his home! Not truly! I can overlook the rest of you earthlings overlooking such obvious signs, but you, Shirogane? The princess and her attendant? How could you three not notice such obvious indications? Are your observational skills truly so dull?”
The words hurt. A lot more than they should.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He bit, “you think you know him? You think you're his family?! I've known him longer than either of his parents! For the longest time it was just him and me! He was the only person who never expected anything from me and I was the only one who'd never pressured him to be something he wasn't. You think you know him? Do you know that I'm the only person left that knows his birthday? That he's the only person that can talk me down from panic attacks and he once cried during Wall-E?! He and I promised each other that we'd fix up that shitty desert shack once I came back from the Kerberos mission? I know him better than anyone in any universe, in any reality. So don't you dare think you know better than I do because he's more of a brother to me than anyone I'm related to through blood.”
She scoffed at ‘brother’, tipping her chin up and adorning a sneer, “if that's what you believe he thinks of your relationship you're more naive than I could've imagined.”
“What is that supposed to-”
“He's Galra!” She shouted, effectively cutting off any argument that could've possibly been bubbling in Shiro’s throat.
“You-” he stumbled. “You're lying.” She had to be. There's no way, no possible way, that Keith was one of them.
“Go find him and ask for yourself.” She threw something at Shiro before storming out. He looked at the ground, where the something had fallen, and saw the device he always watched her fiddle away with for months. He watched her leave, waiting for the door to slam before he dove down. You know, to preserve dignity and everything.
As it turns out, the device was a tracker. A tracker that also seemed to have the ability to contact. Shiro thought for Vargas about whether or not he should call Keith, thinking about what it'd be like to hear his voice after all this time. Eventually, though, he decided against it. This wasn't a conversation that you could have over the phone. This was a face-to-face situation. And maybe a part of Shiro was worried that Keith would try to run if he had a heads up, but that wasn't the point.
He didn't mean to talk to anyone before departing. In all honestly, the thought didn't even cross his mind. It was just a constant loop of I can find him. I can find him. I can find him. I can find him.
Why hasn't he come back yet?
I can find him. I can find him. I can. I can. I can.
It played like a song on loop until it was the only thing Shiro could hear, the only thing he could see. Which, in retrospect, might be why he ended up walking face first into Kholivan.
Shiro never intended to have a discussion with anyone, because that would mean more time that he wasn't with Keith, but the minute he saw the Blade of Marmora’s leader, all of the aggression and anger that he so rarely let bubble to the surface came up in an angry eruption.
“You knew where he was this whole time?!” Shiro shouted, for once not giving a damn ego he disturbed.
It took the Galra warrior three ticks to absorb everything that had just happened and set his face into an unreadable expression. “Yes,” was all he said. All that Shiro needed to wind up his robotic hand, not even realizing that it was glowing purple, and strike. He missed, thank god, because people -creatures- like Kholivan don't get to where they are by having poor reflexes, so Shiro ended up punching the wall where his head had been instead. Leaving a sizeable dent, too.
“You had no right to keep that information,” Shiro spat.
“And you have no right to demand things from me.”
“I had every right in this case! I don't care what he is, he's more my family than your kind could ever be to him! He's good and strong-willed and hot-headed and human. He's more human than I could ever hope to be! He is not one of you.” The words flew from Shiro's mouth faster than he could consider them, which is why he didn't take into account that he'd just insulted the leader of their strongest ally.
Kholivan seemed to realize that Shiro wasn't totally there, though, because he just let the words bounce off of him like water off stone. His gaze was still steely, and Shiro could see the tenseness of his jaw. “Perhaps you should take a walk, Black Paladin, and consider that maybe this type of thinking is what led your friend to self-exile.”
Not gonna lie, that one hit Shiro harder than any punch. But Keith wouldn't think that Shiro would lop him with the Galra Empire, right? He knew better than anyone what Shiro had been through, he had to know that Shiro could never think that of him. Either way, though, it just reminded Shiro of his self-assigned mission and he tore away from Kholivan, returning to his jog down the hallway.
“Tell Allura she's in charge until I get back!”
There had been a night -a million years ago- on a Friday where Shiro and Keith had found themselves on the roof of the Garrison, one of the shitty standard-issue blankets spread beneath them and a plate full of snacks that Shiro had smuggled from the Officer's lounge. You know, because he was allowed there now. Because he was an Officer and Keith was a cadet and no matter how many times the older man reassured Keith that it changed nothing between them it still felt like it did.
“Tell me that thing again,” Keith asked, his head situated firmly on Shiro’s lap as the latter hypnotically ran his hand through the former’s hair. And maybe all of that had to do with the fact that one of those snacks that Shiro had smuggled was a bottle of champagne, but they were celebrating. Celebration needed alcohol. Keith needed alcohol for this celebration, at least.
“You're my favorite human,” Shiro laughed, because he was a happy drunk and also a lightweight. He was years older than Keith and twice his weight yet somehow he still couldn't hold his alcohol. “On any planet, in any galaxy.”
Keith smiled inwardly, preening. “I'm gonna get that fuckin’ tattooed on. That's fuckin’ poetry.”
“Where’d you get it inked?”
“Where do you think?” Keith asked, abruptly sitting up, “right over my ass.”
“Like a tramp stamp?”
“Like a tramp stamp.”
There was a moment of silence before a grin broke out on both of their faces and they simultaneously cracked up in a fit of laughter.
“God,” Shiro sighed after the laughter had died down to a steady chuckle, “I’m gonna miss this. Not just this shitty champagne, but this place. You. The stars.”
“You'll get plenty of stars where you're going.” Keith pressed his lips to the bottle and tipped it back. “And ‘sides, it's only for nine months. Then you'll be back.” If he was being truthful, he hated the words coming out of his mouth. He hated even the idea of supporting the mission that was stealing Shiro away for nearly a year. He didn't mean a word of what he was saying. But this was Shiro, and he had been hand chosen for Kerberos, and he said that he wasn't excited but Keith knew him better than anyone and he knew he was over the moon. So Keith bit down his scathing comments and for once in his life didn't show any disdain for something he didn't like.
“You make it sound like it's not that long.” Shiro took the bottle from him, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil Keith was going through.
“It's not.”
Keith was dying.
“And anyway, I mean, you can always video-call. You're gonna video-call, right?”
He would die a thousand more times for Shiro.
“‘Course I'm gonna video-call. ‘M probably gonna call you before my mom.”
Was it healthy to be ready to die so young if it meant someone else would be okay?
“Good.”
Keith didn't care. All that mattered was Shiro was going to be alright.
“Hey,” Shiro lay down on the blanket, looking up at the infinite galaxy and Keith had no doubt in his mind that he was thinking about how he'd be up there in a few short months, “the Holts are throwing a party to celebrate the announcement of the crew.”
“You mean like professor Holt?”
“And Matt. You don't know him, he's in my year. But he's the third guy going on the mission. I think Katie's gonna be there, too. She's a few years younger than you but she's cool.”
“If you're on a first name basis with her, there's no doubt in my mind that she's cool.” Somewhere on the conversation Keith ended up lying down next to Shiro. He didn't remember that happening.
“You're an ass,” Shiro laughed and playfully pushed him, though it did no good. “Come to the party with me.”
Keith was caught off guard. “I won't know anyone but yo-”
“Please.” And somehow Shiro was serious all of a sudden. Not sober, not by a long shot, but serious.
“Shiro I don't want to just be some tag along cadet-”
“Have I ever told you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” Shiro cut him off, and Keith was having trouble trying to keep up with the conversation. “I mean… I mean fuck I’m going to fucking space before some of my teachers do because I was hand picked and the only thing I can think of is you. God, you changed my life. Do you know that, Keith? I never tell you that because everyone has this fucking… This fucking idea of me or some shit and you don’t and I fucking love you for that. I’ve said the word fuck at least 20 times and around anyone else I’d never have even said it once but I’m so goddamn relaxed with you and I don’t know why or even if I’m scared about that or not.”
Keith heard him, he did, but his mind was still hung up on that one sentence.
I fucking love you for that.
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?!
“You make me happy, Shiro.” Keith propped himself on his elbow so that they were level with each other. “I’ve spent my entire life being angry but you make me smile more than anything else in the world.”
“That makes me so glad.” Shiro grinned. Keith could smell the alcohol on his breath, but he sort of didn’t care. “I want nothing more than to make you happy. You deserve to be happy, Keith.”
Then don’t leave, Keith thought selfishly.
“You do, too, Shiro,” Keith lowered his gaze, inhaling deeply. “Definitely more than I do.”
“I think we should both be happy,” Shiro leaned closer, drawing Keith’s gaze up again and he was shaken by how close they suddenly were. “I mean, I think everyone deserves to be happy. But the two of us especially.” Somehow, he was getting closer. “You make me happy, too.”
“New drinking game,” Keith let out a humorless laugh, trying to defuse the gaining tension, “any time one of us says happy or fuck take another shot.”
A moment of contemplation. On whose part, Keith didn’t know.
“You make me fucking happy.” Was all Shiro said before he did the irreversible.
Kissing Shiro was unlike anything Keith had ever done before. It was the thrill of driving Shiro’s hoverbike and the cool calculation of flying a protocol routine in the simulator. It was the intimacy and seclusion of their little desert shack and the publicity of sitting together in the cafeteria. It was the earth moving and the sky shifting, fire blazing and water rushing. It was everything that Keith had ever done before and more. And Shiro wouldn’t remember any of it.
When he pulled back for a brief moment to catch his breath, Keith caught Shiro’s gaze and he knew, he knew , that there was no way this would be continued in the morning. There wouldn’t be a second night like this, it was a one night stand minus the sex.
The selfless thing -the right thing. The thing Shiro would do- would be to end it there. Point out that the older man would have no recollection of this come morning. If anything, Keith was being unfair to himself by allowing himself to continue. He was acting in his own favor, like usual, and he should just stop now. Stop now. Stop dammit!
But Keith was selfish. God, he was so selfish.