Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever since Voltron’s last battle with Zarkon, Keith had felt that something about himself was…off. Now he could definitely confirm it, tracing the dark blotches of purple stretching across his bare chest. 

Zarkon’s witch, Haggar, had managed to completely immobilise Voltron. Keith could vividly recall the strange, bright purple sparks that had shot out from her hands. When the paladins were struck, he immediately felt a searing pain course through both his own body and his lion. It was as if all of his energy was being leeched away, and Keith could feel his own consciousness slipping dangerously from his grasp. Somehow though, he’d managed to hold on. 

“Paladins, respond!” Allura’s urgent order crackled through their helmets. A few pained groans gave reassurance that they were all alive, at the very least.

 Keith, however, had remained silent. His teeth were fiercely clenched, and beads of sweat pricked up from his tense forehead. An unknown pain radiated from the centre of his sternum – as if someone were driving a blunt object into him, pushing firm against the resistance of his bones.

 “Ugh, that was too close…” Pidge groaned.

 “Yeah, I don’t think Blue’s feeling too hot either.” Lance added.

 “We need to get out of here and regroup,” Shiro commanded, though there was a clear strain to his voice as well. “Is everyone able to fly their lion back towards the castle?”

Keith gave a tense grunt in affirmation, swallowing the pain still rippling through his chest. It seemed to be dulling down, if only a little. Whatever that witch had hit them with, Keith’s body clearly wasn’t coping with it very well. He wondered if, being Galran magic, it was somehow affecting him more severely – his fellow paladins seemed to be exhausted, sure, but not in any sort of lingering pain like he was.

Even after the battle, the sharp ache refused to fully disappear. Keith’s hand rubbed gingerly at the spot, wincing slightly when he applied a little too much pressure on it.

“Hey man, you alright there?” Lance gently clapped a hand over the red paladin’s shoulder.

Keith quickly straightened himself, masking his pained expression with his usual scowl. “Yeah, just a bit sore.” He massaged his own shoulder, as if to reinforce the statement.

“I’ll say,” Hunk groaned from next to them, lethargy heavy in his voice. “I think my muscles will be recovering for a whole week after that punishment.”

“And what about that weird purpley-blasty thing? It was like all my energy had been sucked right out of me!”

“Dude, right?! It felt like I was back at the garrison, when they’d make us run laps first thing in the morning to ‘wake us up’!”

“Ugh, don’t even remind me of that!” Lance chuckled, reminiscing over the memory with Hunk.

Keith took the opportunity to split away from the two of them, instead making his way over to the Black Lion. He wanted to ask Shiro about the strange blast, and find out if he’d experienced anything similar. 

Unfortunately, Keith wasn’t able to find out. The Black Lion’s mouth gaped wide to reveal the empty pilot’s seat where Shiro should have been. It wasn’t pleasant to recall how he’d felt in that moment, Keith mused. He was forever thankful that they’d found his brother, the true Black Paladin, since then. Keith knew that Voltron was in much better hands now, with Shiro as their leader again and Keith…helping everyone in his own way. He was thankful that Kolivan didn’t question him when he asked to join the Blade of Marmora. 

He remembers, after the shock of Shiro’s absence had set in, eventually returning to his room. His eyes were hazed over with a myriad of emotions – anger, frustration, fear. He quickly blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, instead walking to the bathroom to remove his paladin armour. After unclipping the white plates, Keith began peeling away the sweat-soaked bodysuit from his aching skin. He shucked the suit off at his feet and kicked it into the corner, now standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but his briefs. It was then that something about his reflection caught his eye – a strange, dark mark in the centre of his chest. It was purple and blotchy, and Keith assumed it was probably some sort of bruise.

What the hell kind of spell can even do that? He wondered to himself, gently poking at the mark with his finger. It was still very tender. Keith simply shrugged it off and went to the dresser near his bed, pulling out a clean black t-shirt from one of the drawers. If it was a bruise, of course it would be sore – but it would also go away on its own eventually. It definitely wasn’t something worth worrying the team about.

A few weeks later, however, Keith was starting to feel like maybe the mark was something worth worrying about after all. It had only started out small, roughly the size of his thumbprint. But like a flower, the mark had blossomed across his chest, spreading over his pectorals and almost reaching down to his bellybutton. Keith pulled at the skin there nervously, stretching it in front of the mirror with dread in his eyes. He couldn’t deny what it reminded him of – it was a decidedly Galran shade of purple.

It wasn’t as if Keith was unaware of his heritage. After passing the Trials of Marmora, he had learned that he was part Galra. He wasn’t sure how much, but he assumed that it must have been pretty small considering how human he looked. Staring at the expanse of purple skin creeping slowly down his stomach, however, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

A sudden knock at his door jolted Keith from his thoughts.

“Keith, you coming out for breakfast?” Shiro called from behind the bedroom door.

“Uh yeah,” Keith replied in a panic, quickly buttoning his jeans and fishing through his drawers for a clean shirt. “Just give me five minutes!”.

Upon finding none, he picked a shirt off the ground and sniffed at it. Smelled clean enough.  

“Alright, but don’t take too long!” Shiro’s voice seemed to get quieter at the end, as if he’d already started walking off. Keith sighed out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. 

As more time passed the mark continued to grow, snaking around Keith’s waist and edging onto his collarbones. He’d started to become very good at finding excuses to stay in his paladin armour around his friends, but he knew he couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Ignoring it clearly wasn’t making the problem go away, but Keith simply couldn’t stomach the thought of telling everyone. Sure, it took some persuading, but they were all pretty accepting now of the fact that he was part Galra – but that’s only because he didn’t look like it. What would happen when his entire body was purple? When he sprouted furry ears? A tail, perhaps? He could never expect them to accept him like that. He didn’t even think he could accept himself like that. Keith knew he couldn’t just do nothing anymore, but telling his teammates was out of the question. 

Instead, he turned to the only other people who knew about his heritage – the Blade of Marmora. As Galrans themselves, perhaps they would have knowledge about part-Galrans, or the weird magic that started this transformation in the first place. So Keith pushed his friends away – now that Shiro was back, it was easier to find excuses to exclude himself from the team. There were too many paladins anyway, and he knew he could be helpful to their mission through other means. At least, that was the rationale that Keith used to justify the decision to himself.

He told Kolivan about the mark after about a month of fighting with the blades. It had been a quiet day, following a less-than-successful mission the day before. They reported the failure back to the castle, as per usual protocol.

“…Princess Allura said that the team misses your presence.” Kolivan began, sitting at the dining table next to Keith. His hood was pulled over his head, and he seemed to be far more interested in swirling the liquid in his glass than drinking it.

“She would say that.” Keith huffed, slouching further in his chair.

“I have no problem with you working alongside us,” Kolivan shifted so that he was facing Keith directly as he continued “but if you’re simply here to avoid some kind of emotional conflict with your teammates, then I’m not going to let you stay just so that I can get roped into your petty problems as well.” 

“That isn’t…!” Keith’s face twisted at the accusation, before taking a calming breath and placing his glass on the table. “…That’s not the reason I wanted to join the Blade of Marmora.”

Kolivan cocked his eyebrow expectantly, urging him to elaborate.

“Well, the last time we fought Zarkon directly, we were hit by some kind of…magic. I don’t know. Everyone else seemed to get over it just fine, but something else happened to me. I came here because I wanted to ask you about it, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up.”

“What do you mean by ‘something else’, exactly?” Kolivan’s eyes scanned over Keith, as if looking for any visual clues.

Keith opened his mouth to explain, but found himself fumbling for the words. Sighing, he instead removed his hood and pulled the collar of his blade uniform down, revealing the tell-tale purple splotches on his neck. Kolivan moved closer, inspecting them with sharp yellow eyes.

“This ‘magic’ you were hit with…” he looked back up at Keith, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “What effect did it have on everyone else at the time?”

“Well, we were piloting Voltron when it happened. Zarkon’s witch shot at us with some kind of purple lightning…stuff, and it was like all of our energy was being drained. Our lions, too.”

“And then you…turned purple?”

“Oh uh, no! I mean! It was only a small dot at first, right here.” Keith pointed to the bone in the centre of his chest. “I thought it was just a bruise at first, but then it started spreading.”

“I see. Does it hurt at all?”

“I guess my skin feels a little tingly? But I wouldn’t say it’s painful.”

Kolivan seemed to be nodding to himself a little, as if pondering Keith’s situation. “If I were to tell you my first thought, based on your description of the spell itself…I’d guess that it was some sort of anti-quintessence magic.”

Keith’s eyebrows knotted at the statement.

“Well to put it simply, quintessence can be regarded as the purest form of energy. It is used in the majority of Galran technology, but has also been known to carry various other properties as well. What you described would fit that of a quintessence-draining spell, although…” Kolivan’s eyes scanned over Keith’s neck once again, despite the fact that it was no longer exposed. “I couldn’t tell you how that explains the effect it appears to have had on you.”

At that, Keith felt an iron weight sink in his stomach. He had joined the Blade of Marmora hoping they could tell him how to fix whatever was happening to his body. If even Kolivan didn’t know what was wrong with him… 

“Considering your heritage, I’d say that your human appearance was somehow related to the presence of quintessence within your body. If that were the case, it’d explain why the witch’s magic triggered these changes.”

Keith nodded blankly, unsure how to respond to the information in any meaningful way.

“As far as reversing the transformation goes, my only idea would be to expose your body to quintessence somehow, to reverse the draining process. However,” Kolivan caught Keith’s gaze and stared firmly as he spoke. “It is of no concern to the Blade of Marmora whether your condition is resolved or not. You can continue to fight with us, but don’t expect any special assistance in the matter.”

“Yes I…I understand.”

With that, Kolivan stood from his seat and began to leave. He stopped at the doorway, however, and spoke without turning back around to face Keith. “It is also my opinion that you should consider returning to your teammates, human or not. You’re not ruthless enough to be a blade. And, as the princess says, your presence is missed.”

--

Keith’s eyes shook back into focus, pulling him out of his memories. He still stood alone in his room, which was much smaller than the one he’d had back at the castle. Idly, his hands traced the border of the purple marks across his neck. They were definitely higher than the last time he checked. On his desk, a sharp beeping noise suddenly chirped out from the small device that sat atop it. It was some sort of communication device that Coran had given him before he left the team, if Keith ever felt like contacting them. So far, however, he’d avoided using it as much as he could manage. The team would occasionally send messages, asking how he was doing or what he was up to with the Blade of Marmora, and he would mostly stick to simple, one-word responses. He hoped they’d give up trying eventually – it was easier if he kept his distance.

Despite pondering his urge to just ignore it entirely, Keith picked up the device and opened the message to read. Considering the time, he was surprised anyone was sending him one in the first place.

‘HEY, IT’S LANCE.’

Keith paused and reread the first line of the message again. Usually, he’d receive messages from the entire team, so receiving one from just Lance was pretty unexpected. Especially Lance. 

‘EVERYONE ELSE HAS GONE TO BED BUT IT’S BORING HERE WITHOUT MY RIVAL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW? YOU’D BETTER NOT BE SLACKING WITH YOUR TRAINING, OR IT’LL BE WAY TOO EASY TO BEAT YOU WHEN YOU COME BACK!’

Keith rolled his eyes. He placed the communicator back on his desk; as if he was going to dignify such a stupid message with a response.

Suddenly, the device beeped at him again. Keith bit his lip. Don’t look at the message, you’re supposed to be avoiding everyone. Don’t look at the mess-

‘DUDE YOU REALISE THAT THE COMMUNICATOR SENDS READ RECEIPTS, RIGHT? I KNOW YOU SAW MY MESSAGE. GUESS THAT MEANS YOU *HAVE* BEEN SLACKING ON YOUR TRAINING! ;)’ 

Keith’s eyebrows quirked up incredulously. Who does Lance even think he’s talking to? As if he’d be slacking with his training. Before he knew it, his fingers were moving on their own.

‘as if i would be slacking on my training!!! if anyone were to do that it would definitely be you!!!!!! also what is ;) ?’

Keith hit ‘send’, before his brain could even process what he’d just done.

“…Shit.” He groaned to himself, flopping onto his bed and burying his face into his pillow. Why did he have to be baited so easily? Before he could get too far with that train of thought, however, the device in his hand vibrated again.

‘SO YOU DO KNOW HOW TO TYPE! AND IT’S A WINKING FACE, LOOK AT IT SIDEWARDS!’

Keith turned his head – he couldn’t really see it.

‘I’M GLAD YOU’RE STILL WORKING HARD THOUGH! IT WOULDN’T BE VOLTRON IF ONE OF US FELL BEHIND. THAT’S WHY I’VE GOTTA KEEP WORKING HARD TOO, YOU KNOW?’

The corner of Keith’s mouth curved up a little; Lance was the same as ever. Talking with him like this brought back familiar memories of everyone working hard together. He felt a soft warmth blooming in his chest – quickly, he quashed it with a terse frown. He wasn’t a part of that team anymore; they didn’t need him. And if they could see him now, they certainly wouldn’t want him either. He scratched absently at his neck.

‘im not a part of voltron anymore though. you already have five paladins so you dont need me anyway. im useful to the blade of marmora so its better that im not there.’

It was kind of true, Kolivan had said that he had done some good work on the last couple of missions. Though he’d also pushed the point that he still thought too much like a paladin. Keith clenched his teeth as he pressed ‘send’. 

After a few seconds, the communicator vibrated once again, though the ringing sound was slightly different this time. Thinking little of it, Keith tapped the screen, and was extremely alarmed when Lance’s face was suddenly projected in front of him.

“Keeeeiiiithhhh!!!” Lance’s nasally voice whined through the device.

Startled, Keith quickly flung it at the floor.

“Hey, what did you just do? Did you throw me on the floor?! Keith, answer meeee!”

Why did the communicator have a video call option? And why did Lance have to go and actually use it? Keith looked down at his very shirtless, very purple body; he absolutely couldn’t let Lance see him like this–

“I can see your feeeeet!!”

Desperately, Keith ripped the blanket off of his bed and draped it over his head. He quickly pulled the mass of fabric forward to make absolutely sure his skin was hidden by it, before picking the communicator up again. He gave the holographic image of Lance a frazzled huff, blowing strands of hair out of his eyes.

Lance chuckled, smiling brightly as Keith was able to more clearly take in the projected image before him. It looked like Lance was sitting by himself on the sofa in the common room. He was wearing his regular jacket over the black bodysuit of his paladin armour – Keith supposed they must have been on some sort of mission today.

“Oh wow, loving the fashion statement! Do you have a name for it? I’m thinking ‘bedroom chic’.” Lance’s lilted voice sliced through Keith’s train of thought.

“Shut up,” Keith groaned. “I was in bed before you decided it was a good time for a video call!”

“Oh whatever, it’s not like the beauty rest was doing much for you anyway.” Lance winked playfully. “So anyway, how’s blade-life?”

Keith shrugged beneath the blanket. “Fine, I guess. I’ve been pretty busy with mission-stuff, can’t talk too much about it though.”

“Oh, that’s still pretty cool!”

There was a bit of an awkward silence between them, until an unexpectedly serious look came over Lance’s face. “But…would you say it’s better than Voltron-life?”

Keith’s voice caught in his throat. How was he supposed to respond to that? He wasn’t even entirely sure of the answer himself, but that wasn’t something that he wanted Lance to know either.

“…Yeah, sure.”

Lance went very quiet. Keith could feel deep blue eyes boring holes into him, even through the hologram.

“…Why do you say things like that?”

“Things like what?”

“Things you don’t really mean.”

Keith bristled at the statement. “What do you know about what I do or don’t mean? I wasn’t meant to be a paladin anymore. Every lion already has its rightful pilot, so nobody needs me there! At least the Blade of Marmora actually needs me!”

“We both need you, you’re a valuable teammate!”

“But I can’t form Voltron with everyone, and I can’t pilot the castle, so there’s no reason for me to be there!”

“You’re allowed to stay because you want to!”

“I left Voltron because I wanted to!”

Keith’s breath was ragged from yelling, even if it had been at a whisper-volume to avoid waking the other blades. He waited expectantly for Lance to hang up on him, but surprisingly, it didn’t happen.

“…No. You left because you thought we wanted you to.”

Keith stared hard at the floor, desperately avoiding eye contact with Lance.

“I would ne–WE would never…want you to leave. Why would you even think that, Keith?”

Because I’m turning into a Galra! His brain screamed.

“I don’t know.” He muttered dumbly instead.

Another awkward silence followed, this one feeling like it lasted for hours. Once again, it was Lance that finally spoke first.

“So…Allura mentioned that there was a lead on a shipment of raw quintessence headed for one of the nearby Galran outposts. She said that when she discussed it with Kolivan, he was thinking of sending you for the mission.”

Keith’s ears perked up at the information.

“I don’t know if he’s mentioned it to you yet, but anyway, uh…I’m being stationed there to help out too. I’ll be in Red, so maybe you might want to see her again? She always talks about how she misses being piloted by you. We could even go for a spin in her together, if you want.”

Keith pulled his blanket a little higher, trying to conceal the fond smile that spread gently across his face. “Yeah I…guess I’d like that.”

“Really?” Lance seemed genuinely surprised by the response. “Oh wait, you…meant about piloting Red again, right?”

“Yeah? What else would I mean?”

“Oh, uh! Nothing, never mind!” Lance shook his head – was he blushing? It was hard for Keith to tell through the hologram.

“Anyway I’d better go – I think Shiro is making us get up super early tomorrow and unlike you, some of us do need our beauty rest!” Lance winked, clearly back to his usual self again.

“Alright, good luck with that.” he replied sarcastically.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to m-” Keith tapped the ‘end call’ button before Lance could finish.

He placed the communicator back on the desk beside his bed and laid back with a deep sigh. All of the feelings about his teammates that he’d worked so hard to suppress were bubbling back up again now, forming a lump in his throat. Keith swallowed it thickly, rolling uncomfortably over onto his side. He winced a little at the movement when he felt how sore his joints were – guess he’d been pushing himself a little too hard lately.

Training makes it easier to clear my head. His brain supplemented, and he’d certainly had a lot of thoughts he wanted to push away recently. The purple mark was only worsening by the day, and he was starting to notice other small changes in his body too. He could swear that his mullet was getting thicker.

On the other hand, the information that there were plans to intercept a shipment of raw quintessence was hopeful news. If they were successful, Keith could maybe, finally, get his body back to normal. And then maybe…he could even go back to team Voltron again.

“If they’d even have me.” Keith muttered to himself. And then there was the matter of seeing Lance again. So long as the mark didn’t spread any further, he’d be alright. So long as he could just conceal it for a little bit longer…

--

“HAAH!” Keith shouted, ducking swiftly from a punch thrown at his jaw.

He shifted his right foot forward, jabbing at the figure in front of him with the hilt of his knife. The fellow blade leapt backwards, evading the blow. They tightened their grip on the staff in their hand, before charging at Keith forcefully.

Keith held his knife up defensively in front of his face, clenching his teeth at the strength behind the blow. He pushed against the staff, managing to repel it and quickly pivot around his sparring partner yet again.

In doing so, however, Keith felt a sudden pop in his knee at the movement. He staggered a little, his footing weakened from the pain. His opponent seized the opening, sweeping their staff beneath Keith’s feet and sending him crashing to the floor. 

As they approached his crumpled form, Keith’s arm suddenly whipped out and stabbed his knife at their feet. They hopped back just in time to avoid it, but failed to anticipate the swipe of Keith’s leg from behind.

With both of them now on the floor, Keith managed to knock the staff away and pin the fellow blade in one swift movement. Panting, he held his knife at his opponent’s throat; his hair was fanned out around his face, bangs clinging to the sweat across his forehead.

“I yield.” The figure said plainly. Keith withdrew his weapon and eased off of them.

Standing up, he could feel his chest heaving from exhaustion. He liked that feeling, of being completely burnt out past his own physical limits. He could still feel an uncomfortable ache in his knee, though.

“Nice recovery.” Kolivan said, catching Keith’s attention from the doorway.

The other blade picked himself up from the floor, giving a slight nod at Kolivan before exiting the training room. Now it was just the two of them, an air of anticipation hanging as Keith waited for him to continue.

“There’s been news of a Galran cargo fleet passing through the Proxima Quadrant on its way to one of the major outposts in the area. The ships are rumoured to be carrying a large supply of raw quintessence to be converted into enemy ship fuel.”

Kolivan pulled a small display from his pocket, which Keith surmised to be a map of the cargo route. He pointed to a specific spot along the dotted travel line and continued. 

“If we can intercept their movement here, it could be a major victory for the resistance.”

Keith examined the map in detail, noting information such as the number of ships, the expected crew detail, and especially drawing his own attention to the cargo contents.

“Why is this the best point to intercept their ships from?” 

“Here, the fleet will have to pass by Magna Rotauri. It’s a planet surrounded by asteroid fields and other space debris clusters, making it more difficult for their ships to manoeuvre around and providing the perfect cover for an ambush. In addition, Magna Rotauri’s magnetic field typically causes interference with long-distance communication signals. We can utilise this to ensure their crew aren’t able to call for back-up.”

Keith nodded, impressed. It was a really good plan. “And you…want me on the mission?”

Kolivan raised an eyebrow at the presumption. “Well, aren’t we confident? But yes, I’ve discussed the mission with Princess Allura, and put forth your name as a candidate. As it will be a small stealth team cooperating with one of the Voltron paladins, your past experience working alongside them will be of great benefit.”

There was an odd pause at the end of Kolivan’s sentence, as if he’d intended to say more but held his tongue instead.

“And…What about the cargo we recover? Do we have a use in mind for all of the quintessence they’re carrying?”

Kolivan’s eyes stared at Keith knowingly, reading between the lines of what he really wanted to ask.

“We can use the majority to convert into fuel for our own ships. Even those that don’t utilise Galra Tech can still use quintessence once it’s been properly processed. Of course, it’s far more than we’re capable of using for our ships, that if some were lost in transit…well, it wouldn’t be too catastrophic for us.”

Kolivan scratched his cheek idly, looking off to the side at nothing in particular.

“Anyway, the shipment will be carried out in one week’s time. Ensure that you’re prepared, or I will have to send another blade in your place.”

“Of course.” Keith nodded firmly.

As Kolivan turned to leave the training room, he quickly added to his statement. “Oh and uh…Kolivan?”

He paused where he stood, but didn’t turn around to face Keith.

“I…really appreciate it.”

 “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chapter Text

Keith was woken up that morning by a deep throbbing in his tailbone. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time this week that it had happened. Sitting up uncomfortably, he looked over at his desk to read the time displayed brightly by his alarm clock. 4:28AM. Keith groaned, pulling his sluggish limbs out from underneath the covers and hoisting into an upright position. It was almost as if he could feel his bones creak with every movement.

Normally, with how sore he currently was, he might have decided to take it a little easier. Today though, Keith didn’t have that sort of luxury – it was finally the day of the mission he’d been waiting for. Kolivan had already briefed him on the details yesterday: he and the three other blades would each take a ship into proximity of Magna Rotauri, where they would meet up with the Red Paladin. Using the asteroids as cover, they would wait for the cargo fleet to pass within the range of the planet’s magnetic field, to ensure any outward communications were blocked.

Their intel stated that the fleet was on the smaller side, despite the amount of cargo being transported – only about eleven ships. Most of these were remote freight carriers; large, heavily-fortified vessels that were not directly piloted, but instead controlled externally by a navigator ship. Their purpose was to simply withstand any external attack, not counter or evade it. It was the navigator ship that was their primary target; if they could infiltrate it from the inside and gain control of the entire fleet, they would be able to reroute the cargo to the nearest resistance base. Of course, this was assuming that they would be able to get in, take out all of the soldiers and sentinels stationed to guard the shipment, manually override the route coordinates, and disable all external tracking communications to ensure their actions went undetected by Galran monitoring systems.

Keith ruffled his hair, letting out a long huff. There were a lot of things that could go wrong on this mission, and their team would be highly outnumbered if they did. Sure, Keith was confident in his own fighting abilities, but as he moved to pull on the left leg of his blade uniform, a slight pop reminded him that there were other factors to consider. Standing, he zipped his suit at the back and pulled his arms up above his head, stretching out the stiff muscles as best he could. Kolivan and every other member of the resistance needed this mission to succeed, and Keith wasn’t going to let his own body betray that.

Already feeling awake and somewhat restless from his thoughts, Keith tucked his knife away in its sheath and exited his quarters. He pondered killing some time in the training room, but without any partners to spar with at this hour, and not to mention the way his knees protested the very thought of it, he begrudgingly decided to head to the mess hall instead. He selected one of the many generic cups from the shelves there, and poured himself a glass of…whatever the weird black syrup was that usually came out of the beverage dispenser. There were a few other options, which Keith had sampled before, but at least this one kind of tasted like coffee. He guessed. If he really persuaded himself that it did.

He took his first sip and gagged a little – he always forgot just how bitter this stuff was – before making his way to the dining area to sit for a little while. As expected, nobody else was there yet. Keith chose the table towards the back corner, planting his elbows in front of himself and sighing pensively into his drink. He caught his reflection in it, lingering on little details here and there. He’d been careful to monitor any more changes, right up to last night, but thankfully he could still conceal the purple mark that was slowly swallowing up his complexion. It extended over his shoulders now and was starting to creep down his legs, while his back had been reduced to only a thin line of flesh-tone remaining. It resembled some sort of ridiculous racing stripe that followed the curve of his spine.

He thought about the mission today – imagine what Lance would think if he saw it. Keith could just picture the way his lips would curl in disgust, his eyebrows twisting tightly together and eyes staring – no, looking away, because he couldn’t even stomach the sight of him. He imagined standing in front of his old teammates, completely purple now, and seeing them react in varying degrees of anger and repulsion. Hunk wouldn’t want to speak with him. Pidge probably wouldn’t even want to be in the same room. Matt would tell him what a monster he was, and Coran would simply order him to leave. Hell, he’d have to if he didn’t want to be attacked by Allura. And Shiro…what would his brother do? He’d probably renounce him on the spot. None of his friends – his family – would want to have a half-breed bastard like him working under the Voltron name.

Keith’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ripples in his drink that disturbed his reflection. He quickly rubbed at his eyes, pushing a little too hard at the sockets. He looked into the cup again – his face was pink and blotchy.

Idiot. He berated himself. The whole reason you’re going on this mission is to fix everything before anyone finds out. Don’t waste time thinking about what might happen because it WON’T. Not if the mission is successful. Just focus on the mission.

“Prepared for the mission today?”

The sudden voice startled Keith, his grip tightening around his cup in alarm.

“Ah, didn’t mean to disturb your train of thought there.” The fellow blade sat at the seat directly opposite him, a bowl of what he assumed was breakfast in her hands. It was an opaque, turquoise-coloured liquid that appeared to have the consistency of cake batter – ‘appetizing’ was definitely not a word that sprang to Keith’s mind looking at it.

“It’s fine.” He replied, pausing a little. “You’re…on the mission too, right? The Proxima cargo fleet?”

“Indeed I am. Keith, wasn’t it? I see you’re up bright and early for it.” She plunged her spoon into the gooey substance, bringing it to her lips to blow on gently.

“Yes, well it’s always wise to be well-prepared.” He lied; she didn’t need to know he’d simply woken up and wasn’t able to fall asleep again. “And you’re…uh…”

“Enox.” She reminded. “We only met yesterday, so it’s understandable that you’d forget. Of course, I knew of you well before then.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because you’re the only non-Galra on this ship, obviously. Surely you must know that you have a reputation around here.”

“Oh, right.” He said sheepishly.

Enox was right though, Keith stood out like a sore thumb at the Marmoran base. He imagined it was one of the few times that the Galran blades were viewed as the norm, instead of feeling alienated by the rest of the resistance. In fact, he felt guilty for only just thinking about that now, considering he wasn’t far off being in put the same situation.

“A mighty thoughtful expression you’re wearing,” Enox smirked, “something troubling you?”

“Oh! Well…” Keith jumped at the unexpected sound of her voice. “Actually, I guess I was kind of wondering how you feel as a Galra, being a part of the resistance against the Galra. Like, how you’re treated by the other alien species I guess? Wait,” Keith backpedalled, “that’s probably a really personal question. Forget I said anything!”

“No, it’s quite fine!” Enox waved her spoon dismissively. “It’s definitely been the hardest obstacle for us blades to overcome, which is why we’d mostly worked in secret up until our alliance with Voltron. That being said, any earlier attempts to unite our efforts with other resistance groups went down…unfavourably, so it was the natural path for our organisation regardless.”

“I’m…sorry about that.” Keith said feebly, unsure how to respond to the explanation. 

“Don’t be,” Enox reassured him, “we’re rebels to the Empire. We’re used to working in the shadows. Most aren’t aware, but the Galran civilians are some of the people who have suffered the most from this war. We have no planet to call home, and yet we are forced to live our lives fighting to gain more, conquer more. It’s like trying to build a great castle without a foundation there to support it. While Zarkon’s men have seized much, our people still have little to call ours.”

Keith was surprised. He’d never really thought about the Galrans outside of Zarkon’s forces, or how they might be living.

“In any case, isolation and judgement is nothing new to us blades, but we are thankful to Voltron for the opportunity to feel it. For we know that it is only from those uncomfortable exchanges that we will begin to break down the stigmas of our people and form more positive connections. Even if we may not be the considered the most gregarious of species.” Enox chuckled to herself a little.

Keith felt as though he understood the Galrans a little better now and, ironically, felt like he related to them pretty well. He knew what it was like to be perceived as cold and unapproachable; he’d always thought it was better to be that way than to be vulnerable. But he supposed that the Blade of Marmora were learning that more can be accomplished by changing their approach – and maybe he could learn that, too.

Feeling a little better, Keith picked up his cup and took a large sip of the bitter drink. Swallowing, however, he felt something decidedly non-liquid lodge itself into the back of his throat. He choked and sputtered, coughing the lump back up and into his hand.

Keith looked down at the object resting in his palm and immediately paled.

It was a tooth.

“…I have to go.” Keith suddenly announced, rising from his seat and walking abruptly out of the mess hall. His cup remained immediately forgotten at the table, leaving Enox blinking in confusion at the exchange.

Keith was hastily powering down the halls of the Marmoran base, back to the privacy of his own quarters. He barely cleared the door as it slid open to the scan of his palm, bee-lining it straight for his bathroom mirror – the tooth was still clutched tightly in his other hand.

Fingers trembling slightly, Keith pulled his lips wide to inspect his gums. A heavy wave of dread washed over him as his eyes were instantly drawn to the swollen pink gap where one of his premolars should have been. The raw flesh throbbed painfully, and Keith could tell from the puffy redness of the area that it was badly inflamed. Looking a little closer, he could also see the white tip of a new tooth, squished beneath the swollen folds of gum.

“Dammit!” Keith yelled, throwing his old tooth at the floor in frustration. Chips shattered off from the fragile enamel, the little pieces rattling softly as they settled across the tiled floor. 

Getting used to the purple spreading across his skin had been one thing –even then, he still hadn’t really gotten used to that idea– but his teeth falling out? That was too much. Everything happening right now was too much. Keith’s breath was coming out in quicker and quicker pants, his chest heaving for air. 

No, he couldn’t have a panic attack, not now. 

Calm down. Stop hyperventilating. Focus on something else. Keith pulled his wild eyes from the mirror and looked down at his hands.

Clench.
Unclench.

Clench.
Unclench.

He watched as their trembling died down a little, and felt his lungs forcing out slower breaths, as if pushing them through a sieve. Shakily, Keith dragged his palms down his face and back up through his hair. The gentle tugging helped him to centre himself again. He could do this. He had to do this.

“It’s…not a front tooth, it’s not too noticeable.” Keith reassured himself, grimacing widely to gauge how visible the gap was. It’s not like he smiled that often, anyway. Clenching his teeth was pretty uncomfortable though, and even with his mouth closed, his cheek still looked pretty swollen.

Keith walked out of the bathroom, noticing the time on his clock. It was already 5:40AM, although that meant he still had some time to kill before they were heading out. Having nothing better to do, Keith figured he may as well go to the meeting point and wait. He stuck his head back through the bathroom doorway, giving himself another quick once-over and figuring he looked about as composed as he was going to get, before making his way down the hallway and towards the hangar.

--

Keeping his gaze focused intently on the light strips running along the floor, since he didn’t really feel like accidentally starting a conversation with anyone, Keith eventually arrived in the large, open room where all of the Marmoran ships were docked. They were sleek, angular vessels fit for a single pilot, each equipped with light artillery and dual thrusters for manoeuvring in battle. Keith had flown them a decent number of times now, though it still didn’t compare to the feeling of piloting Red. He’d never had that same feeling with Black, either.

…He hoped Lance was treating her well.

Sighing, Keith planted himself on a small step near one of the empty ships. He felt his knees strain a little at the motion, though he promptly ignored it. The hangar was surprisingly empty, though Keith assumed that was to do with how early it was. He drummed his fingers on the metal-plated floor, and the hollow echo that reverberated with each of his raps sent a chill down his spine.

Well, this was a stupid idea. Keith thought to himself. He was there too early, and now all he had to keep him company were his own thoughts – definitely the last voice he wanted to listen to right now.

Instead, Keith reached around his back and pulled his knife from its sheath slowly. He brought the blade to his palm, gazing wistfully at the purple sheen it gave off. He wondered what this knife had been used for before it had been passed down to him. What kinds of missions had his mother been on? How many people had she killed with it? Was the Blade of Marmora still even fighting for the same cause back then? God, he’d give anything to know more about the kind of person she was. Or who she was right now, if she were even still alive. Maybe she would understand what was happening to hi–

No, stop. This is exactly why he didn’t want to get lost in his thoughts. Keith clamped his eyes shut and exhaled deeply. The only important thing right now was today’s mission. Everything else was irrelevant.

Throw.
Catch.

Keith adjusted his grip on the knife, slightly.

Throw.
Flip.
Catch.

He was focused on the objective.

Throw.
Flip.
Swap hands.
Catch.

They would infiltrate the navigator ship, and reroute the cargo.

Throw.
Flip.
Swap hands.
Twist.
Catch.

The cargo was raw quintessence, which was a vital resource for the resistance.

Throw.
Flip.
Swap hands.
Twist.
Behind the back.
Catch.

There was also the possibility that it could be used to reverse his transformation.

Throw.
Flip.
Swap ha–
“OW!” Keith yelped, the knife clattering to the floor in front of him. A sharp sting erupted from his palm.

It wasn’t a deep cut, Keith observed from the clean slice through the glove of his suit. He gently ran his tongue across the droplets that pricked up from the thin red line, bitterly regarding the salty taste. Keith felt himself accidentally graze past the gap in his gums, and immediately winced at the bolt of pain that erupted from the spot. Yes, the cut on his hand was definitely nothing in comparison.

Not wanting to go and get a bandage for it, Keith kept wiping at the cut until the blood finally stopped pearling. He didn’t really want to fuss around replacing his suit for the sake of such a small tear, either. It would probably hold up for the day.

After a few more minutes, as Keith rose to finally retrieve his discarded blade, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps echoing from the hall. He quickly sheathed it, standing upright and trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Ah, Keith. I see you’re already here. Good.” Kolivan acknowledged him, not seeming to catch his flustered appearance.

Keith noticed that Enox and another blade where standing behind Kolivan. Judging by their timing, he assumed that it must have been close to their scheduled departure.

“Rahzak, you and Enox head to the launch bay and make sure all mission preparations have been taken care of.”

“Yes, Commander.” The male blade responded, brushing past Keith towards the back wall of the hangar. His fellow subordinate followed closely behind.

Kolivan then turned his attention towards Keith, a fire already burning behind his sharp eyes. “We will be meeting up with Voltron’s pilot before we commence the mission. Rahzak, Enox and myself will be focusing on clearing out the freight carriers of all infantry stationed guard within. It will be your job to assist the Red Paladin in infiltrating the navigator ship and reprogramming the fleet coordinates – your experience fighting together makes you the most appropriate choice for the task.”

“Yes, I understand.” Keith affirmed, trying not to let his gaze wander to his exposed palm.

“Princess Allura has informed me that their team have prepared a jamming device for the operation, so simply plugging it into the main console of the ship should be enough. We can’t be sure that our intel has remained secret, so expect the possibility of heightened security measures.”

Nodding, Keith felt his eyes flick to his hand anyway.

“You…seem distracted.” Kolivan scrutinised. “Are you prepared for this mission or not? I have no qualms in making last-minute replacements if you aren’t planning to give it your full attention.”

“No!” Keith squawked, a little louder than he had meant to. “Of course I’m prepared for the mission! There’s just…well, there’s a lot riding on it. But I won’t let the pressure get to me, I promise! Please don’t take me off it – I swear I can do this.”

Kolivan narrowed his glare.

“Sir, all preparations are complete! We are ready to depart at your command.” Rahzak called from behind one of the docked ships.

“…Fine. But remember,” Kolivan stared daggers into Keith, “your personal interests must never outweigh your loyalty to the mission. Never.”

--

Normally, Keith enjoyed the moments of waiting before a mission started. He’d feel a hit of adrenaline surging through him, the anticipation of the oncoming battle swelling boldly in his chest. Right now, however, the clammy palms and stuttering heartbeat pounding in his ears were entirely unfamiliar sensations.

“-ou copy?” A voice trailed off beside his thoughts.

“Keith! Do you copy?!” Enox shouted, a little louder this time.

“Ah, Y-! Yes, I copy!” Keith stuttered out.

“Good, everyone’s communications appear to be working smoothly.” Rahzak confirmed.

“The Red Lion should be arriving at any moment; be ready to close in on the interception point.” Kolivan instructed, receiving affirmative grunts from the other blades in response. 

As if on cue, Keith suddenly felt a familiar presence loom from behind him. He looked up in time to see the metallic red figure glide effortlessly over their ships, swivelling to a halt and standing proudly in front of them.

He felt a pang in his chest; he’d really missed Red. Even more overwhelmingly familiar was the voice that followed.

“Hello, this is Lance, Paladin of the Red Lion. Does anyone copy?”

“We read you loud and clear.” Kolivan responded. “Rahzak, what is the status of the target?”

“The fleet is currently approaching our contact radius. They should be within the determined range in approximately…53 seconds.”

“Then we have little time to spare. Everyone, prepare to engage!”

At Kolivan’s order, the pilots all began to shift into position. Enox, Rahzak and Kolivan spread out behind the cover of nearby space debris, while Keith tailed the Red Lion closely for support.

He watched Red’s movements carefully, analysing the way that Lance piloted her. He didn’t seem to be comfortable with the speed that Keith was used to flying at, but appeared to bring a slight gracefulness to her movements that was new and somewhat mesmerising to watch.

“Like threading the neeeeedle.” Lance whispered in Keith’s ear.

“Tch!” Keith scoffed. “Don’t say stuff like that when we’re on a mission, dumbass!”

“It’s fine, I switched the communication channels since you and I are supposed to be working together anyway!”

Keith rolled his eyes. “This isn’t time for screwing around, Lance! There’s a lot at stake here, and I can’t afford to have you messing it up!”

“Uh, hello? Since when is this mission all about you? And anyway, I’m just as serious about this as you are. I just have different ways of showing it.”

“Well then don’t show it; I can’t concentrate when all I can hear is you babb–”

“Shh! Here they come.” Lance cut Keith off, pointing Red’s nose in the direction of the approaching fleet.

Keith watched as the three Marmoran ships stealthily zipped behind the oncoming freight carriers, hovering closer as they prepared their attacks. He then turned to watch Lance, who was already stalking the navigator ship silently from below.

From Red’s mouth came a glowing beam of heat, which scorched clean through the heavy plating of the ship’s underside with ease. The Lion’s strong claws pried away the thick sheet of metal, sending it floating off into the distance with a quick and powerful swipe.

“Okay Keith, I’m heading in. Stick close, alright?” Lance pulled Red up right next to the fresh hole, using her paws to secure himself firmly to the spot. The Red Lion opened its jaw wide, and Keith saw the tiny blue figure that emerged from it scramble clumsily aboard the other ship. 

 Keith steered himself close to Red, magnetically attaching his ship up against her armoured chest. After a moment, he licked his lips thoughtfully.

“…Hey Red,” He spoke softly, hoping Lance was being honest about their communication channel being private. “It’s been a while, huh?”

He felt a nostalgic warmth envelop him, reassuring Keith that she was listening.

Indeed it has. Our bond, however, is not so weak that it could be damaged by the passage of time.

Keith felt himself smile at the response. “You say that, but I hope you’re not getting too chummy with Lance in the meantime!” At that, Keith caught himself. “Ah, but if you prefer him as your pilot, then that’s fine too.”

You are both my pilots, but that does not mean I prefer one over the other. Lance is Lance, and you are you.

Keith sighed to himself. He was being petty again. 

Moreover, I sense that something has changed in you since we last saw one another. Is everything alright?

“Oh, uh! Yeah, everything’s fine!” He lied.

…Keith. You know that I can sense the anxiety in your heart. Your words cannot be used to deceive me.

Keith let out a huff of defeat. “Okay, look. I’m not sure what’s going on, but some weird stuff has been happening to me ever since we fought Zarkon’s witch. We were hit by that anti-quintessence magic, and it did something to my body – I assume it’s related to me being half-Galra. Please, just…promise me you won’t tell Lance, okay? I’m trying to fix it before anyone finds out, but until that happens–”

Keith was abruptly distracted by movement in the corner of his eye. He looked up towards the hole above, seeing Lance beckoning at him furiously. Keith waved his hand in dismissal, watching Lance’s eyes bug out exasperatedly in response.

“…Please don’t let anyone else know about it. Especially not Lance.”

Red was silent for a few moments, as if debating her answer.

…Very well, I will not tell him. But remember that your fellow paladins are also concerned for your wellbeing. I hear Lance’s thoughts, after all – many of them are spent worrying about you.

“...I know. And thanks, Red.”

With a long breath, Keith brought his attention back to his surroundings, reaching down to unclasp his seatbelt. He pressed a small button at the neck of his suit, causing a respirator mask to materialise over his face.

Keith crouched over his seat and unhatched the clear dome that enclosed the pilot’s pod. He secured his feet on the edges of it, and kicked off towards the improvised entry point of the navigator ship. The jetpack on his back let out staggered thrusts of energy, propelling him steadily forward. As Keith’s hand finally made contact with the edge of the hole, he felt another hand clamp suddenly over his own.

“Shh! Stay low!” Lance’s voice crackled through the speakers in his helmet.

Without asking why, Keith compliantly ducked his head under his arms and tucked his body flat against the underside of the ship as best as he could.

A few seconds later, there was a loud WOOOOOSH that screamed over Lance’s head. Keith struggled to twist his neck around, and saw two small fighter ships leaving a trail of purple light as they flew towards one of the freight carriers.

Keith gulped solemnly. He hoped that the other blades were going to be okay.

“Okay, I think we’re clear. Here, give me your other hand!” Lance held out his arms, his head still whipping around to look for any more signs of danger. 

Flinging his other arm forward with the full weight of his body behind it, Keith grappled onto Lance’s arms and felt himself being pulled upwards. The tight furrow of Lance’s brow indicated that it wasn’t an easy feat, and upon clearing the edge of the hole, the sudden shift in gravity had both of them tumbling backwards. 

“Urghhh.” Keith groaned, his voice muffled by the weight of Lance’s chest.

Noticing the atmosphere reading detected by his HUD, his fingers blindly groped at his neck, eventually finding the button that removed his respirator mask. Keith sucked in a few ragged breaths, pushing weakly at the heavy mass on top of him.

“Lance. Moveeee.”

With a long whine, Lance rolled sidewards off of him. Keith watched as he lay there motionless for a few more seconds, before eventually pushing himself upright on unsteady limbs.

“You’re way too heavy, you know that? Have you been eating steel weights for breakfast?”

“Oh yes. Absolutely.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“Ooh! Sarcasm! My one weakness!” He pretended to faint, hand poised dramatically over his forehead.

Keith said nothing and stared blankly at Lance, before the corner of his mouth quirked up and he quickly stifled a snicker.

“Aha! I definitely heard that! You laughed!” Lance animatedly pointed at Keith, who was shielding the smile that was creeping over his face.

“No! I’m not! This is just…!” Keith calmed down, a soft blush still dusting his cheeks. “It’s just nice to talk to you again.”

“…Keith, did you hit your head?” Lance mock-gasped.

“Oh shut up!” He whined half-heartedly, sitting up from the floor. He cringed a little at the dull throb from the pressure on his tailbone. “Help me up?”

“Now how could I say no to that mullet?” Lance teased, holding his hand out. As Keith latched onto it, he tugged until they were both on their feet. Keith was still bent over, shaking out the stiffness from his legs.

Upon rising completely though, a revelation dawned on Keith about the pain he’d been feeling in his joints lately. He stared wide-eyed at Lance, who was gaping at him like he’d grown a second head. Or maybe even turned purple.

“Are you…taller than me?”

Chapter Text

Keith felt a torpid daze wash over him. It felt like having a photo taken with the camera flash set far too bright; the static of his brain struggled to reorient itself.

Had he…really gotten taller? Now that Lance had pointed it out, Keith couldn’t ignore his sudden awareness of the foot of difference between them. Looking down, he noticed the way that the softly curled tufts of Lance’s hair barely reached the tip of his chin now.

“I…guess so?” He said plainly, trying to wrap his head around the revelation.

“No freakin’ way…” Lance stared agape, as if he was carefully analysing Keith to identify any other changes in him. Keith nervously tugged the collar of his suit a little higher.

“It’s not really a big deal. My…my dad’s really tall, and so is Shiro. I must have had a growth spurt or something.”

“Some growth spurt! What are they feeding you at the Marmora base, anyway?!” Lance gawked incredulously. “Well…I’m not done growing either, you know! I’m not gonna lose to you!”

Keith grumbled in response. “Wh–it’s height, Lance! It’s not a competition!”

“Sure, fine! I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m gonna wipe the floor with you when you see how good at fighting I’ve gotten while you’ve been away!” Lance held up both hands, close enough that Keith felt a gloved fingertip accidentally brush against his cheek. “Level 8 – that’s how far I’ve gotten with the training bot at the castle now. Last time I checked, you were on Level 7.”

Keith made a point of disregarding the other’s smug grin. “I haven’t been at the castle for months, Lance. It’s hardly a fair comparison.”

Backing down with a sigh, Lance scratched at the back of his head absentmindedly. “I guess that’s fair. Training hasn’t really felt the same without you around.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at the statement.

“Uh–I mean! It’s hard to stay motivated without a worthy rival there to fight with! I can only beat Pidge and Hunk so many times before it starts to get old, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ve seen you fight Hunk before, Lance.” Keith snickered.

The brunette puffed up his chest indignantly. “W–well, things have changed while you’ve been gone! I’m not the same as I was when you left!”

Keith felt the blotchy skin on his collarbones itch at the remark. He clenched his fist tightly, feeling the cut on his palm sting as his nails brushed against it. “Well, neither am I!”

The clatter of footsteps from a nearby hallway cut their conversation short. Keith ducked behind a ledge inside the enemy hangar, his hand hovering cautiously over the knife at his back. He remained completely motionless, listening as the steps faded off down the corridor. Exhaling the long breath he’d been holding, he peeked furtively around the corner and spoke again.

“We can’t stay here; we need to hurry up and find the navigation controls.”

He turned to Lance expectantly, who was now crouched behind the ledge opposite him, his bayard already in rifle-form. Keith’s brow quirked curiously. 

“…Since when can your bayard turn into a rifle? I thought that was only when you piloted Blue?”

Lance gave a cocky wink, rubbing his finger underneath his nose. “What can I say? I’ve learned a few new tricks since you’ve been gone.”

 “Is that so?” Keith smirked challengingly.

He planted his hands on the edge of the ledge behind him, crooking his elbows outwards despite their stiffness. With a powerful push from his legs, Keith flipped himself over the step into a handstand. Using the momentum, his fingers sprung against the surface and launched him backwards, his body rotating weightlessly through the air. The landing was almost silent, as Keith tensed his calves and made contact with the floor using only the balls of his feet.

“You’re not the only one who’s learned a few new tricks.” 

Brushing dark, tousled bangs from his eyes, Keith looked back at Lance, trying to get a read on his reaction – was he impressed? Awestruck, maybe? It was admittedly hard for him to decipher the wide-eyed, pink-cheeked gawp that he was receiving. Even harder to decipher was the way it made his own face flush with warmth. And why did he care so much about what Lance thought of him, anyway?

“A–Anyway, you’re right. We need to get moving.” Lance gave his head a little shake and lowered his gun, clambering up the steps of the hangar and moving to position his back against the east doorframe. His thin blue irises darted towards the expanse of the hallway, and with two stiff jerks of his jaw, he beckoned Keith to follow.

Swallowing down the strange bloom of heat in his chest, he flicked his hood over his head and carefully crept towards the other side of the door. He locked eyes with Lance and gave a confident nod – he was ready.

With Keith’s assertion, Lance began creeping carefully along the wall of the hallway. Keith trailed behind him, turning himself backwards to keep an eye on their rear. As they reached the corner, he pressed his back flush against the wall and waited for Lance to peek ahead.

“I think we’re clear.” He whispered, standing upright and walking down the corridor with a little less caution to his strides.

“Seems weird for the halls to be unpatrolled like this, don’t you think?” Keith said warily, his eyes drifting around the area in suspicion.

“There were definitely more guards around here when I first boarded the ship, but I think a lot of them were in those cruisers that left the hangar a few minutes ago.”

The former red paladin gulped dryly. The other blades were simply meant to clear out the carriers of any guards on board – they’d never been intended to serve as decoys.

Lance saw the anxiety creased tightly over Keith’s forehead. He clapped a firm hand across the other’s back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Hey, you’ve been fighting with the Blade of Marmora for months now, right? You know how strong those guys are.”

Keith recalled his gruelling first month spent on the Marmoran base – to say that Kolivan’s training methods were brutal would be a gross understatement. Honestly, there where times where he thought he could still feel some of the bruises.

“They’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. I mean, the last thing they’d want is you messing up because you were too busy worrying about them, right?” Lance gave him a comforting smile, his gentle words helping to soothe the panic that had crept into Keith’s mind. “I’m worried too, but that’s all the more reason for us to finish this job as quickly as possible. Let’s count on each other, okay?”

“Yeah…you’re right. Thanks, Lance.”

Feeling his confidence return for the first time in weeks, Keith felt weightless. He wasn’t thinking about the other blades. He wasn’t even thinking about the purple marks staining his body. The only thing on Keith’s mind in that moment was the mission that he’d come here to do. His fingers gripped tighter around his knife, and a focused spark flickered to life in his eyes – he could do this. They could do this. 

“Now there’s the Keith I know. C’mon, let’s find the control room before those guards come back.”

With a satisfied nod, Keith walked on ahead down the snaking passages of the ship. He could feel Lance and himself operating in perfect sync – with every new room or corner they reached, the two of them instinctively stood back-to-back and peered ahead with caution. Upon inspecting the area ahead thoroughly, the leader would give the ‘all-clear’ hand sign – something they’d decided on together back when they were both paladins – and they’d press on towards the bow of the navigation vessel. Keith mused, staring at Lance’s sloping shoulders and feeling somewhat nostalgic. It really was like old times.

--

Unfortunately, Keith’s previously-amiable mood found itself fouled by the ache that had started to violently pulse from his jaw. His hollowed gum felt as if a hot needle was attempting to burrow its way out from the inside – if Keith had to guess, he’d assume it was a new tooth boring through. The throbs of pain punched at the backs of his other teeth as if they were trying to knock a few more of them out, leaving Keith wincing with each pound of his feet on the loud metal floor.

“Hey man, you alright? You’re looking kinda pale there.” Lance stood abruptly in front of him, examining the soft sheen of sweat that spread across his forehead.

“I’m fine, I’ve just got a bit of a headache.” He lied, sucking lightly on the flesh of his cheek. Hopefully, it helped to hide the swelling there a little.

Lance’s mouth squished to one side in scepticism, but he eventually seemed satisfied enough with Keith’s answer as he turned to face forwards again. “Just…tell me if you wanna take a break then, alright?”

Keith hummed in acknowledgement, but his attention remained fixated on his internal condition. He’d begun to realise that if he concentrated really hard, he could feel the purple mark ghosting over his skin. It was only faint, like the brush of a feather or a soft breath of wind, but it was definitely there. And it was spreading, too – faster than it had been over the last few months.

Lance was clearly starting to become impatient at navigating the endless maze of winding corridors, his pace quickening to a light jog as he practically abandoned his formerly stealthy approach. Keith groaned. He could feel his knees protesting the increased strain as he lengthened his strides to catch up.

The brunette was practically sprinting away from him now – at least that’s what it felt like with how much he was struggling to keep up. Keith heaved himself around corners to try and keep desperate sight of the blue-and-white flash that kept ducking out of his field of vision.

“Oh my god, Lance! Slow down! You don’t even know if these halls are definitely empty!” Keith shouted into the void, since he’d now completely lost track of the paladin.

Great, now they’d gotten separated.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, feeling the way that the strands tickled at his palm through the rip of his glove. He followed down his scalp, eventually reaching the thick fluff of mullet at the base of his neck. Scratching at it, his fingers began to grab a little more franticly in confusion. The tufts of hair there weren’t just hanging down from his nape – they were growing from all the way up to the lump of his spine. Keith’s breath began to catch in his throat. He could feel himself tensing all over, the first prickles of panic bubbling underneath his skin–

“Oh my god, Keith! I’m so sorry, I thought you were still right behind me!” Lance’s shrill voice suddenly snapped him out of it, the firm grip on his shoulders helping to tether him back to reality. 

The fear that had been washed away quickly found itself replaced by annoyance, and Keith smacked at Lance’s side. “Why would you think that?! I literally called out to you to slow down!” He couldn’t help the pout that rose to his lips.

“What, really? I must have been pretty far away then, huh.” Lance scratched at his cheek sheepishly. “But I did find something to make up for it! Follow me – I promise I won’t run ahead this time.”

Keith rolled his eyes, starting his walk alongside Lance as they retraced the sequence of twisting halls and passages. It really was strange to be in a Galra ship this quiet, he pondered absently. Of course, he was pretty certain that it wasn’t going to last.

--

After what felt like a good minute or so, the two found themselves standing in front of a large steel door. They had encountered a few similar-looking ones so far, but unlike those, Keith could tell by the LED display this one had been locked from the inside.

“This room is different to the others. The lights on the security panel here are lit up, see?” Lance gestured towards the glass pane attached to the wall directly in front of them. It looked like a hand-scanner, much like the ones Keith was used to at his quarters on the Marmoran base.

“We should be able to get through if I scan my hand, but there’s a good chance that there are guards on the other side.”

“Heh, you gotta admit that your Galra DNA sure does come in HANDy, eh Keith?” Lance chuckled at his own terrible pun, elbowing softly at Keith’s ribs for a reaction.

Keith’s expression, however, immediately sharpened. “There’s absolutely nothing HANDY about it. You think I want to be some kind of hybrid alien freak? I didn’t choose to be like this, Lance!” Keith’s shoulders quaked as his voice was getting louder and louder.

“Hey, whoa! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realise it was such a touchy subject! Geez!”

Keith’s swollen jaw throbbed as he grit his teeth even tighter.  “Of course you don’t.”

Stop.

“You’ve always grown up with a family, surrounded by people who love and care about you!”

You don’t mean this.

“You don’t know what it’s like to spend your entire life not knowing who your mum is! Having your dad pass away! Or your step-brother go missing, for years!”

Lance doesn’t deserve this.

“You don’t have a single FUCKING idea about how it feels to be told, after being alone for all that time, that your mum was an ALIEN WHO ABANDONED YOU. THAT YOU’RE SOME HALF-ALIEN BASTARD THAT NOBODY WANTED, AND EVERYONE WHO KNEW THAT ALREADY LEFT YOU.”

Keith could feel the hot tears burning down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. His throat was raw from screaming. And he couldn’t even control the word-vomit spewing from his mouth anymore.

In that moment, he detested himself. He detested his spiteful mouth, spitting out daggers that he knew he didn’t really mean. He detested his jealous heart, blaming and hurting others to block out his own piteous self-loathing. And most of all, he detested his filthy blood, which made him feel like a monster both inside and out. He’d been told he possessed a Galran temper – maybe it’s only fitting that he wears the skin to match it.

There was a long, unbearable silence after that. Lance bit at his lip, obvious guilt plastered across his pointed features. “Keith, I…” He finally croaked, before quickly clamping his mouth shut again. His narrow pupils were focused on busily drilling holes in Keith’s boots. 

Keith knew – he’d really messed up this time. Fix it, you idiot! His brain berated him, but all he could seem do right now was pick at the tips of his gloved fingers. The hot flush of shame that spread over his cheeks felt as if it had evaporated the previous wetness there.

“…I’ll go.” Lance practically whispered. He walked meekly around Keith, still avoiding any form of eye contact. “I didn’t look down this way; if I find anything I’ll…let you know. Or not, if you don’t want me to.” Keith swore he could hear a quiver in Lance’s soft voice as the glassy-eyed paladin disappeared around the bending corridor.

Keith sank his teeth bitterly into his own tongue until he could taste the metallic tang of blood. He was stupid. He was so stupid.

Why did he always have to drag his own baggage into everything? All Lance wanted to do was make a joke – it had nothing to do with any of the stuff he’d made it into. He thought back to the past week – Lance had voice-called him every single night, talking about how excited he was to finally go on a mission together again. Together. With him. And all he’d done in the meantime was freak out over the way he looked.

He clenched his fists excruciatingly tight, feeling little red crescents form beneath the press of his fingernails. Honestly, he was mildly alarmed that they’d broken the skin through his gloves – hell, it’s what he deserved right now anyway. He didn’t know how to get rid of the crushing pain in his chest, so he’d mask it with a different kind of pain. That was the way Keith was used to dealing with his emotions – supress, supress, supress.

He’d supressed the sorrow of his dad’s death when he was six. He’d suppressed the horror of losing Shiro on the Kerberos mission. He’d even supressed finding out that he was some sort of Galran abomination.

So the despair of completely ruining his relationship with Lance through his own self-pitying egotism? He could surely supress that too.

His bleary eyes drifted to the security panel on the wall. It was still lit up, a little yellow blip appearing on the screen every few seconds to show it was active. Keith was certain that there were Galran soldiers beyond the door, and they’d probably have information that could help him get to the ship’s main control room. At least, those were the reasons that he was using to convince himself it was a good idea to slam his palm down on the scanner. In truth, a part of him was fully aware he was just looking for an excuse to get into a fight right now – his usual way of taking his mind off of things.

When he’d first realised that the ‘bruise’ on his chest was spreading, he’d started spending double the usual amount of time holed up in the castle training room. The sound of metal-on-metal, the crash of limbs and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears all served to muffle the internal monologue that screamed at him that things were not okay.

Things definitely weren’t okay now either. But Keith figured, readying his stance as the thick steel door slid open, that this was the only thing he was good for anyway. He couldn’t control his body, or his feelings, or his words. At least he could control the knife in his hands.

There was barely a second of delay before the three soldiers standing guard inside the room noticed him. The one on his left bellowed in alarm, swinging his bayonet wildly at Keith’s throat – he crouched just in time for it to become lodged deeply in the now-mangled doorframe. Seizing the opportunity, he slid beneath the armoured Galran and kicked his feet out from under him.

Just as he raised his knife to land another blow, however, a beam of energy shot it out of his hand. Keith shook the sprain from his wrist and looked over his shoulder – the second soldier was already lining up her next shot squarely with Keith’s back. He pushed himself off of the grounded foe and rolled sideways, just in time to witness the deep burn marks of the blast char the metal flooring. He heard the Galra to his side growl fiercely, probably over how close it had come to hitting him instead.

Now unarmed, Keith scrambled over the table in the centre of the room, sliding across its surface and hooking his legs around the third soldier in the back. It looked as though he’d been using some sort of intercom device along the rear wall – God, had he just called for backup? Keith used the full strength of his body to twist the opponent’s neck sidewards, using their combined weight to pull them both to the floor. He heard the sharp crack of bone as their plated head collided first with the table, then the solid ground below them. Now completely motionless, Keith climbed over the soldier’s body and crawled towards the corner of the room that his knife had been knocked towards. 

“I don’t think so, Marmoran scum!” The female soldier snarled, firing another round that grazed the top of Keith’s head – he swore that he could smell burnt hair.

Quickly, Keith made a dive for the knife, grabbing it just in time to deflect yet another energy beam. The Galran foe was obviously becoming impatient, firing a flurry of shots at the back wall with little care for precision. Keith skidded towards the table, pulling the base out from underneath and using it to deflect the oncoming bullet hail. He could hear the ceaseless pound of shots bouncing off of the table’s surface and rebounding back in all directions.

Just great, Keith grumbled to himself, I’m completely pinned down. If only Lance were still here to create some kind of distrac–

No. Lance wasn’t there to bail him out anymore – he had his own hotheadedness to thank for that. Dammit, this was supposed to help him take his mind off of their argument. Right now though, all Keith could think about was the image of the brunette bursting through the door behind him, smirking confidently as he gunned down the remaining enemies.

Sorry I’m late, Keith, he’d say smugly, but your rescue party has arrived!

The sharp pinging of the blasts ricocheting around the room snapped him back to his current position, with no ‘rescue party’ in sight. He’d have to figure a way out on his own. Unfortunately, the endless stream of bullets was making it impossible for Keith to seize an opening – until he suddenly heard roar of pain from one of the Galra. 

“Stop shooting, Zeris! Fucking hell, that weasel just hit me in the leg with one of your damn sh–GKH!”

The soldier that sat on the floor was abruptly cut off by the impact of Keith’s knife being speared through his neck from behind the table. Gurgling chokes could be heard as blood dribbled down his face and chest, before he eventually stilled and slumped down against the wall.

The last remaining soldier threw down her rifle furiously and seethed, “You’ll pay for that, retched worm!” She ripped the knife from her comrade’s throat and thundered towards Keith’s hiding spot.

Scrambling backwards, Keith grabbed at the lifeless body behind him, rummaging around his waist in search of a weapon. Surely he had something – ANYTHING – to defend himself with. Turning up nothing, he yanked at the soldier’s armoured wrist just in time to block the slash of a knife cutting through the air behind him. 

“Die already!” The last surviving enemy screamed, lunging at Keith again with the Marmoran dagger.

Grabbing at her clenched hand, he steered the blow into the floor, just centimetres away from his own face – he felt the sting of the cool metal slicing into the fleshy rim of his earlobe, but pushed through it. He held her fist tightly in place, rolling his body over it to try and pry his knife back out of her grip. The force of his weight against her arm proved enough to weaken her hold, just enough for Keith to yank his weapon free again.

Without hesitation, he withdrew the blade from their tangled limbs and rammed it deep into the soldier’s chest plate. She writhed under Keith as he twisted the handle, tearing through the armour plating and puncturing further through the skin beneath. He watched tensely as her movements slowed, before eventually stopping altogether.

Keith felt a violent shudder course down his spine – it was over, for now. He’d always thought of himself as a fighter, but this intimate experience with killing was still something he hadn’t quite gotten used to.

Standing up, his could feel his knees trembling at the sight below him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, concentrating on the slow rise and fall of his own chest. His shoulders relaxed. His brow unfurrowed itself, slightly.

KRSSSHHH!

Keith’s eyes snapped open as hot pain erupted from his bicep. He stumbled backwards, legs tangling with the bodies by his feet, as he saw four sentries bursting through the doorway behind him. Looking down at his arm, he saw the burnt graze from one of their shots – they must have missed, just barely. Their next attack didn’t though, and Keith was too slow to react as he felt the stock of a gun rammed hard into his cheek.

Keith’s vision shook from the blow, his jaw screaming in agony. He could feel his mouth gushing with…drool? Blood? Probably a bit of both – he clearly felt two teeth that had been dislodged by the impact slide down his lips, rattling as they hit the floor.

Another swift crack landed on his gut; Keith doubled over and coughed as he splattered more fluids across the sentries surrounding him. This must have been the backup that the soldier had called for when he first entered the room. He dragged his gaze up to the bot in front of him – its gun was pointed square at his face, the charging glow of a shot flaring rapidly inside the barrel.

Keith couldn’t move his limbs. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely see anything. This was it.

THWAK!

Suddenly, the sentry standing before him was knocked sidewards in a blur of silver. Keith's eyes strained to follow the red flash that sent two more of the Galran bots flying in a burst of shrapnel and sparks. He looked towards the final attacker, turning just in time to witness it be brutally impaled on a large red sword.

Tension and fear Keith didn’t realise he was holding onto left him with a tremor; he sank to his knees at the respite. Thin, gentle hands stabilised him as he heard the clatter of a bayard dropped unceremoniously to the ground – the figure loomed over him so close that he could smell the sweat on their skin, feel their warm breath on his cheeks.

“Sorry I’m late, Keith.”

Chapter Text

The clouded haze of sensory overload swirled around Keith’s head. Pain. Burnt flesh. Blood. Metal shards. Cold, synthetic air. Saltine sweat. Soft, chocolate curls.

“Come on, buddy, stay with me!” Lance gently shook at his shoulders, earning a weak groan in response.

Keith felt his bleary eyes return to a half-focus, his brain still feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton. He shifted his sitting position slightly and winced – everything hurt.

“Whoa, hey, don’t try to move too much! You probably have a concussion or something after taking a hit like that.”

A hard pounding in his cheek reminded him of the gun stock that had been rammed into it only moments ago. Dazed, Keith watched Lance turn around awkwardly to reach into the supply pouch strapped to his belt. From it, he pulled out a water flask and a handkerchief – it was light blue, with a little lion face embroidered on it.

Cute.

Lance tipped the silver bottle against the handkerchief, wetting it slightly. He then brought the flask up to Keith’s mouth, jostling the remaining water inside enticingly. “Here, drink this.”

Keith took the cool metal container and sipped at it groggily, before feeling a sudden dampness press against his split earlobe.

“God, you’re absolutely caked in blood. Good thing your blade suit’s black, huh?”

“Hah, you should see the other guys.” Keith’s soft laughter bubbled against the water at his lips. He placed the flask on the floor next to him, feeling Lance’s gentle hands move to wipe his chin.

As Keith gazed up at him, a lazy thought floated through the fog of his slightly-delirious mind: Since when was Lance so…pretty? His dark, violet eyes scanned across the brunette’s delicate face; the light dusting of freckles across his nose, the long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, his thin, pink lips–

“Geez, that blow to your face must’ve been pretty damn hard; it looks like the skin’s already bruising!”

Keith suddenly felt the remaining fuzz ripped from his brain, the deep sink of dread in his gut quickly replacing it. “A–are you sure?”

“Yeah, seriously! The whole underside of your jaw is like, bright purple!”

His stomach lurched dangerously. There was no doubt in Keith’s mind that it wasn’t a bruise, though he’d made the same mistake of thinking so himself only a few months ago. Putting the impossibility of one appearing that quickly aside, the familiar itch on his cheek confirmed it – The purple mark had finally crept up to his face.

“A-ah, well, it…It’s not as bad as it looks! And it’s not really that purple, is it?” Keith rambled, trying to downplay the blotchiness of his skin. “Like, maybe the dirt and blood’s making it look worse. I feel fine, seriously Lan–”

“Holy shit! Your teeth!” Lance yelped, interrupting him. “…Don’t freak out, but uh. I think the blow knocked one of your teeth out. Actually…maybe more than one.”

Keith’s tongue probed around his mouth, and sure enough, he could feel two new holes in his gums. He had at least a foggy recollection of it happening, so the revelation thankfully wasn’t quite as shocking for him. Lance, on the other hand, was clearly flipping out.

Abruptly, he jerked to his feet. “I’m gonna…go look for your teeth – wait here!” Lance’s juddering, erratic movements looked even more exaggerated alongside his natural lankiness.

As the panicked paladin staggered off and began combing the room for the missing teeth, Keith let out a sigh of relief. Guess that’s one way to distract him. While he certainly wasn’t happy about the additional gaps in his gums, he could tolerate them if it meant Lance stopped looking at his skin so acutely.

Watching the other boy tottering gingerly around the bodies – both mechanical and otherwise – strewn around the area, another memory drifted innocuously onto his mind. The memory itself, however, was not so harmless. It was of the last time he had spoken to Lance, before he’d come and rescued him. He’d exploded over something stupid, as usual, and said some nasty things that he’d regretted the moment they’d been spat out of his mouth. The brunette was obviously hurt; he’d probably only walked away to avoid crying in front of Keith.

God, he was an asshole. He’d really felt like he was getting better at talking about his problems too, instead of bottling everything up – but then he was hit with that anti-quintessence spell. It was like all of his progress had unraveled, and he’d reverted back to his cold, socially-constipated self again. And now Lance was smiling at him, tending to his wounds, even helping to look for his teeth for fuck’s sake, as if none of it had even happened.

He didn’t deserve to be treated as though he’d done nothing wrong. He wanted Lance to be angry at him, to yell at him – to do something that would acknowledge the fact that he’d messed up. But instead, all he got was the heart-melting grin that the boy shot at him as he held up two bloodied teeth triumphantly over his head.

He didn’t deserve Lance. 

“It’s fine, you can tell me I’m awesome,” Lance beamed, proudly walking back to where Keith was hunched against the wall and waving the teeth around like the world’s tiniest trophies.

Hanging his head in guilt, Keith was caught off-guard when Lance’s free hand suddenly snatched at his own, a gloved thumb pressing uncomfortably hard into his palm.

“Here, you take them.” Lance placed the teeth in Keith’s hand and gently pushed against his fingers to make a closed fist. “I don’t know much about Altean technology, but maybe there’s some kind of equipment in the castle’s med bay that could reattach them to your gums. It’s…worth a shot anyway, right?”

“Why are you…being so nice to me?” Keith muttered under his breath, barely louder than a whisper. 

“…Huh? Did you say something, Keith?”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU BEING SO NICE TO ME?!” He practically screamed, before quickly clamping his hands over his mouth.

Shit. He’d done it again. Lance was wide-eyed and startled, staring back at him with a look that reminded him of a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The hands still covering Keith’s mouth helped to muffle the vulnerable crack in his voice. He slowly lowered them, taking a deep breath to dispel the pent-up sob that threatened to escape his lips – he felt the telltale prick of tears anyway. 

“…Keith–”

“No, don’t!” He rubbed angrily at his eyes, before forcing himself to look at Lance properly again. “I…said some really shitty things to you earlier. I know I get frustrated sometimes, and I say stupid, mean stuff because I don’t want to just talk to people about it. You’ve been…so nice to me lately, and I just keep on messing up! Even now, you’re still being nice and it’s just…” Keith’s shoulders slumped. “Ugh, this is a really bad apology. But my point is that I’m the person who needs to give one, not you.”

“I…wasn’t going to apologise,” Lance sighed gently, “but I’m not getting mad at you, either. I’m not stupid, you know? I can tell when you’re actually angry at me, as opposed to just lashing out because you’re stressed about something else.”

Keith blushed a little – was he really that transparent? Maybe he hadn’t been giving Lance enough credit.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I kinda get the feeling it’s been happening for a while. Like…maybe it’s why you’ve been so distant with the team?” Lance quickly cut off his own train of thought. “Ah! It’s not like I’m trying to pry or anything, though! If you…don’t want to talk about stuff, then that’s fine. I mean, I doubt I’m the first person you’d want to confide in anyway, right?” Lance scoffed a little at his own statement. “Look, I guess what I’m saying is…I get it. All of us are here to support you, so you don’t have to do everything by yourself all the time. Okay? We’re…we’re a family.”

“…I know.” Keith smiled softly, still sniffling back tears from earlier. “Thanks for…being so patient with me. And uh, you know, for saving my ass back there too.”

Lance gave a warm chuckle. “Hey, just because we had an argument doesn’t mean I was gonna sit back and say ‘good riddance’ while you took a laser beam to the face!” He punched Keith gently in the arm, as if to punctuate the joke. “We’ll always be friends, even if we fight. I mean, that’s just what good rivals do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know about that – I think being rivals implies that we’re equally matched.” Keith teased. “Did you see me take out those soldiers?”

“Ex-cuuuuuse you! Let’s not forget the part where I took out four sentries in like, thirty seconds!” 

“They weren’t even facing you! You were practically handed those kills on a platter!” 

“Sorry then, I take back what I said – next time you’re surrounded, you can catch me waving a handkerchief from the sidelines. Farewell, sweet mullet!”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Lance toting that ridiculous embroidered cloth in a life-or-death situation. His heart swelled warmly – he’d really missed this.

“Anyway, we’d better get back to finding the control room,” Lance said, holding his hand out to help Keith up. With a strained pull, he hoisted the now-taller boy onto his feet. 

As Keith stretched out his aching limbs a little, he watched Lance walk to the middle of the room to retrieve his bayard. The brunette twirled it around his finger for a second or two, before tucking it back onto his belt, and then bent over next to one of the demolished sentries. He grabbed its detached head and pulled upwards, the tangled spaghetti of wires dragging random robotic body parts along with it.

“...What are you doing?”

“Well, these sentries usually work on a pre-programmed route, right? That means they’ve gotta be installed with a map of this ship.” Lance cracked the droid’s face plate on the edge of the upended table, exposing the internal computer beneath it. “Maybe we can access its data storage system, and figure out how to get to the navigation controls from here.”

“Oh yeah, that’s actually a pretty clever idea,” Keith said, genuinely impressed. “Does that mean you know how to hack it?”

“…Uh. Hacking’s not really my forte. Do you?”

“Lance. I was a pilot at the Garrison, not an engineer.”

“Well, neither was I!”

Keith groaned, dragging his hands down his face. This was going to take them a while.

-- 

Lance had been tapping away at the sentry’s external access screen for a good half an hour now, his occasional growls indicating he was making fairly slow progress. After getting told his help – or as Lance called it, ‘back-seat bitching’ – was stressing the Red Paladin out, Keith had begrudgingly assigned himself to guard duty. Unfortunately, it looked like anyone they’d need to be on guard for was already dead on the floor.

Keith paced by the doorway impatiently, glancing over at Lance every few seconds. This is agony, his mind grumbled. He had to figure out some way to make the time pass quicker. There wasn’t anything happening in the hallway, that much was certain. He didn’t really feel like practicing jabs with his knife – especially not after already cutting his hand open while doing that this morning. His eyes darted back to Lance again.

Talk to him.

He supposed that was one way he could kill some time. But what would he even say? He didn’t want to talk about Voltron or Blade stuff; that only seemed to flare up into an argument of late. He sure as hell wasn’t going to talk about himself – the less anyone knew about what was happening to him right now, the better. Maybe he could…ask Lance something about himself instead?

Think, Keith. What’s something you could ask Lance about? His eyes scanned the back of the brunette’s hunched figure for inspiration, working his way down from the top. 

Are you using a new shampoo? Your hair looks really soft today.

No. Weird.

That handkerchief from your pocket earlier – did it come embroidered, or was that you who added the little lion face?

Ugh, what a dumb question.

As his gaze drifted, it became abruptly caught by the stark contrast of red-on-blue. That…actually reminded him of something he’d been wondering about.

“So, uh…I saw you were using your bayard as a sword earlier?” Keith scratched the back of his head idly, trying to act casual. “I thought you only knew how to use firearms – or is this one of your ‘new tricks’ as well?” 

“Oh, well I–um! Yeah, I guess you could spin it that way?” Lance’s hands fumbled a little against the keyboard display, his face reddening awkwardly. “…Look, don’t laugh, but I’ve actually kinda been practicing my close-quarters combat while you’ve been gone. Usually with Pidge, or sometimes Shiro, too.” 

“…Why? You’ve always used a gun, haven’t you?”

The flush of Lance’s face suddenly increased tenfold. “I just...! I wanted to try something new, y’know? What’s so weird about that?!”

Keith’s confused glare intensified, melting through the Red Paladin’s flimsy defenses.

“…Fine. I learned because I w…ed … sp…. w…th y…..” He murmured incoherently.

“…What?”

“Because I wanted to spar with you!! Okay?! Like, when you came back to Team Voltron or whatever!” Lance looked as though he was about ready to throw himself out of the nearest airlock in embarrassment by this point.

“Dude, why are you freaking out? It’s…actually kinda cool that you’d do that.” That you’d do that for me, Keith’s brain corrected.

“Noooo, ugh, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He whined. In an obvious attempt to change the subject, Lance pointed to the south doorway. “Hey, can you uh, go check what number’s written on that door’s security panel for me?”

“I guess?” Keith sighed, although he was secretly okay with doing just about anything right now if it meant he didn’t have to keep standing around, bored out of his mind. 

He trudged out of the room and stood in the corridor, scanning the wall in search of the supposed digits.

“…Do you see it?” Lance called from inside. 

“No? I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for!”

“There should be an 8-digit code written somewhere, try checking the metal plate by the hand scanner!”

“I did, and there’s nothing there!” The irritation was starting to bubble in Keith’s throat.

“…Did you check the bottom of it though?”

“YES!” A long silence followed the statement. “...It’s 0-8-2-7-1-0-2-3.”

As Keith wordlessly stomped back inside, Lance leered up at him with fake-innocence. “…So, where did you find it? Was it on the bottom of the hand scanner?”

“I’m not talking to you.” Keith scowled childishly.

“What, not even a ‘wow Lance, you’re really impressive for thinking of using the security panel numbers to figure out our location on the ship’s map’?”

“You know I would never say that anyway!” He paused. “…Did you really?”

“Well that’s fine, I can still hear how impressed you are through your voice.” Lance snickered, dodging the affronted slap sent his way.

Keith looked over Lance’s shoulder as he began pointing at a spot on the map, close enough to smell the fruity pine-lime scent of his hair – seriously, maybe it was a new shampoo. 

“So if that’s the number by the door, that should mean we’re about…here.” Lance pointed to an average-sized, square room that could plausibly match their surroundings. “That means the control room should be down this corridor, where we should be able to take a shortcut through the ventilation shaft.”

“Nice, we should be able to catch whoever’s in the control room off-guard if we enter through there.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.”

Keith gave a confident nod and Lance reciprocated – they had each other’s backs, just like old times. “Alright then, let’s move.”

--

Keith decided, upon crawling through the cramped vents of the navigator ship, that his increased height was a lot more noticeable in confined spaces. His long arms were jutted out at awkward angles to prevent his head from hitting the ceiling, and with each bend of his legs, he felt the uncomfortable strain of having to extend them so far forward – they’d tangle together and trip him up if he didn’t.

Lance, on the other hand, looked as though he might have been a cat in a past life. He slinked effortlessly through the ventilation shafts, spidery limbs pulling his lithe body forward down the narrow tunnels.

“You keeping up okay there, buddy?” Lance called out over his shoulder, voice reverberating along the tinny walls.

“Ugh, no,” Keith panted. “How the hell are you so fast at thi–OW.” A hollow pang echoed from the metal above as his head thumped against it.

“Ooh, ouch.” Lance winced sympathetically. “If it makes you feel better, we’re almost there? It’s only two more rights, then a left, then a right again. Uh…it sounds longer when I say it like that, though.” 

“Yippee.” Keith cheered sarcastically. “Do you at least have any idea what we’re going to do once we reach the control room? Like, there’s probably gonna be someone inside standing guard, at the very least.”

“Oh, absolutely. Didn’t Kolivan tell you the intel we had about the fleet’s commanding officer?”

“…No, I wasn’t aware you knew.” Keith made a mental note to ask Kolivan why the hell that didn’t seem important enough to pass onto him. 

“Well, better late then never I guess!” Lance’s face was hidden by the slope of his back, but Keith could still detect the apologetic tone in his voice. “So, this fleet’s under the command of some guy named Prozak.”

“You mean like the dr–”

“No, not like the drug! They’re aliens, Keith! Don’t make fun of their names!” Lance huffed. “Anyway! He’s supposedly a bit of a lone-wolf type; doesn’t like to work with company much. It’s probably why they put him in charge of a bunch of empty cargo ships, thinking about it.”

“Or why the guard detail on this ship has been so damn thin.” Keith added.

“Yeah, you might be right. Don’t expect him to be a pushover though; this guy works alone because he can handle things by himself. Like seriously, his kill count’s one of the highest among Zarkon’s entire freaking army.” 

“…Then why did they only send the two of us to fight him?”

Lance suddenly stopped crawling, before turning around and flashing Keith a nervous smile. “…Optimism?”

“Great. We’re fucked.”

“Nooo! We’ll be fine, probably!” Unfortunately, the expression on Lance’s face didn’t quite match up with the confidence he was trying to project. “Look, the reason that the intel for this mission even came about at all was due to a recent injury that Prozak suffered. Apparently, his entire arm was blown off by a rebel’s light cannon, and he’s since been put on cargo duty while he’s recovering.” 

“So in other words, now is when he’s at his weakest?”

“Exactly. If we strike now, we can take out one of Zarkon’s head commanders and cut off one of their major quintessence supply routes.”

Hearing all this, Keith felt the immense pressure of the mission weighing heavy on his shoulders. He and Lance couldn’t afford to mess this up – especially not him. After all, he hadn’t forgotten about the other reason he was here.

“Hey, how’s your jaw holding up, anyway? That bruise looks super-painful.” Lance’s voice was cheery on the surface, but laced with gentle concern.

“It’s fine, honestly. I can barely feel it.” It hurts like a bitch, Keith thought to himself, but he was trying to downplay the mark as much as possible. Maybe if Lance thought it wasn’t too bad, he wouldn’t notice the changes as much.

“Really? Because it looks like the skin’s getting more and more purple.”

Maybe not.

Feeling avoidant towards the current direction of their conversation, Keith instead glued his eyes straight ahead, looking down the expanse of tunnel beyond the Red Paladin. The streams of light shining from up ahead seemed to be getting brighter – they must be close. Confirming his thoughts, Lance turned around and held a finger against his lips. He then shuffled carefully to one side of the metal grate, leaving Keith just enough room to squeeze up next to him and look through it.

Judging from the angle at which they were looking into the room, Keith could tell the vent opening was pretty close to the ceiling. He scanned the area below, taking note of the large consoles and monitors that took up three of the four walls. They were on a raised platform, splitting the room into an upper and lower area – a handrail traced the separation in an M-shape.

Studying the consoles more closely, it appeared as though each of them were used to control a different function of the ship. On the left, the display seemed to be showing a live feed of every room and corridor of the vessel. That probably means they already know we’re here, Keith surmised. 

The system on the right looked like it was used to command the sentries stationed throughout the entire fleet. He couldn’t read any of the Galran text, but red and green panels seemed to indicate the number of bots that were currently active. As he examined the ratio of colours, he saw another green panel flick over to red. It was relieving to know that the other Blades were still putting up a fight, at least.

Finally, the central console was displaying the route coordinates of the fleet, as well as the status of each of the freight carriers. “There it is – that one’s gotta be our target.” Lance whispered, pointing at it.

“I think that one’s gonna have to be our target first, though.” Keith replied, pointing at the colossal figure standing in front of the monitor. It had to be Commander Prozak – Even from the back, he could tell this guy wasn’t like the foot soldiers he’d fought earlier.

The Galran general stood at least 8 feet tall, and was a thick wall of bulk and muscle. The dark black of his suit exuded a menacing aura, lit up only by slits of fuchsia light to accent it. Looking down to his waist, it was clear that he didn’t have a tail – for whatever reason, that was pretty standard for members of the Empire. He also didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, which would certainly be advantageous for them if correct. Keith couldn’t see what Prozak was doing, but could hear him clacking furiously away at the computer keyboard. He typed pretty damn fast for a guy with only one arm.

“It looks like he’s trying to send a request for back-up to one of the military fleets,” Lance deduced.

“Guess he doesn’t know about Magna Rotauri’s magnetic interference.” Prozak’s frustrated pounding of the console seemed to verify this theory. “So then, what’s the plan?”

Lance’s fingers drummed against his chin thoughtfully. “Well, we need to figure out how we’re gonna get in there, get rid of Mr. Tall, Dark and Purple, and reroute the carrier freights back to the Proxima rebel outpost.”

“Oh, is that all?” Keith groaned sardonically. “Look, I don’t think there’s any way of avoiding a direct fight with this…Zanax gu–”

“Prozak.” Lance corrected.

“–Prozak guy. So, I’d say our best option would be to try and catch him while his defenses are down. I can’t see any weapons on him, so we might stand a chance if we both jump him at the same time.”

“That sounds good to me! You’re probably still…better…at close-quarters combat,” Keith could see that it pained every fiber of Lance’s body to admit it, “so you should focus on engaging him directly. Meanwhile, I can use my rifle to provide support – if it looks like you’re in trouble though, I’ll switch to my sword and step in.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s the best strategy. Both of us coming in with blades might be a bit too messy, anyway.” Keith continued deliberating their course of action. “Oh yeah, are we…gonna be alright with the navigation system? I think we can both agree that neither of us are what you’d call ‘hacking experts’, and unless you’ve learned to read Galran text in the time I’ve been away, we probably won’t be able to read any of the controls.” 

“Oho! Don’t you worry, I’ve come prepared!” Lance patted lightly at the supply pouch on his hip. “Pidge and Matt have been pulling all-nighters for the past week to whip this baby up for us – it’s a portable system-hacking device! Don’t ask me how it works, but apparently all we have to do is plug it into the console and it should do the rest.”

“…I have a question, then. If you’ve had this the whole time, why didn’t you use it to get the ship’s map from that sentry earlier?” 

“Sh–shut up! I forgot I had it, okay? And I don’t even know if it would work like that, it might only be programmed for this one task!”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Look, we made it here one way or another. Let’s just…let’s finish this.”

“You got it, partner.” Lance held out his hand confidently, prompting Keith to grip it firmly in response. He felt the brunette clap his other hand around his elbow, and his own chest fluttered a little at the action. He was anxious. He was excited. And with Lance there beside him, he was ready.

With a nod, they each drew their weapons and grabbed a corner of the vent grate. Keith wedged his knife between the bolt and the wall, using it to pry the metal grill from the surface. As Lance followed suit, the now-detached bars clattered loudly to the floor below. Wasting no time, Keith swiftly leapt to the ground – he ignored the way his joints didn’t quite absorb the impact like they used to.

Unsurprisingly, Commander Prozak quickly span around at the racket behind him; however, there were a few things about it that Keith wasn’t expecting. The first was the cocky, composed smirk that the Galran was wearing, as if he had fully anticipated their arrival. The second was his arm – more specifically, the robotic limb that was very much attached and not-missing.

“Ah, I see the vermin have finally crawled out of their hiding spots.” Nonchalantly, he reached down to press a button on the side of the console behind him.

Keith crouched into a defensive stance, cautiously observing Prozak. He could feel Lance’s presence behind him, so he held out a guarded palm. Don’t move yet, we need to see what he’s up to. He heard the brunette give a deep gulp. 

From underneath the central monitor, three glass tubes rose up. Keith recognized their contents easily – it was raw quintessence.

“Tell me, little mice – have you come here to play?” Prozak plucked one of the quintessence canisters from their stand, holding it up to his mechanized forearm. A round panel opened up at the contact, and he pushed the tube into the recess. Keith watched the luminous gold liquid drain into the appendage – he had a really bad feeling about this. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I wanna see where this is going!” Lance yelled, rushing forward and firing off a round from his bayard.

A sharp PING! bounced off of the walls as Prozak deflected the shot with his arm, which had begun to glow ominously from the energy that the quinessence had imbued it with.

“Now, now; don’t you know it’s common courtesy to wait your TURN?” Roaring thunderously, Prozak threw a ferocious punch at Lance. The Red Paladin held up his rifle to block it, but the tremendous force of the impact was still enough to send him sprawling backwards.

“Lance!” Keith shouted, hearing the thump of his back colliding with the far wall.

“You there, black mouse.” Prozak pointed a threatening finger towards the Blade. “I believe you were making the first move? Come now, show me what you’ve got.”

Chapter Text

Keith had always been a little cocky when it came to picking fights. He wasn’t afraid to take on enemies that were bigger than him, or stronger than him, because he was confident that he could still kick their asses. But this time, even he could see it clearly – he and Lance were in way over their heads. If he’d had any doubts before, the bone-like crunch of the Red Paladin’s back colliding with the wall had immediately quashed them.

“Come on,” a purple finger curled at him tauntingly, “don’t start going shy on me now.”

Keith’s grip on his knife tightened, and he felt wet beads of sweat slither down the collar of his shirt. Move! His brain commanded, yet his legs remained petrified where they stood.

“Fine then, if you won’t make the first move –” the lights on Prozak’s robotic arm flared dangerously, “– then I will!”

Keith barely moved his blade in time to block the swing of the Galra’s arm, but the force was so intense that it barely even mattered. He could feel his knees buckle almost instantly at the sheer weight of the metal limb, never mind the push behind it. It was all Keith could do to roll sideways and narrowly avoid being crushed under its bulk.

The impact of Prozak’s arm was enough to place a slight dent in the thin plating of the ship’s floor. He hoisted it up and swung at Keith again, the Galra’s piercing metal claws sharp enough to slice through the Blade’s suit even as he just barely evaded each swipe.

Keith could feel his muscles protesting at the rapid jerks and lunges; his growing pains were really starting to get old fast. An unexpected twinge in Keith’s knee had him staggering, leaving him wide open to Prozak’s next strike.

As he felt the shadow of the robotic fist looming towards him, however, a bright blue spark streaked across his vision and knocked the punch sideways. Several more balls of energy pounded against the Galra’s densely armored body, leaving scorched red rings where each of the hits had made contact. He looked towards the source, where Lance had pulled himself up from the back wall and was firing off round after round from his rifle. As the smell of singed fur and hot metal rolled off of Prozak, the brunette shot him a quick thumbs-up. Thank god Lance had his back right now.

Their momentary upper-hand didn’t last for very long though, as the lumbering purple giant before them stood up again and stomped towards Lance. He aimed his rifle squarely at the Galra’s chest, but each TINK! of the blasts hitting his breastplate barely had him flinching. Obviously, they’d pissed him off now – he didn’t really seem to even care that he was being shot at.

“I don’t particularly feel like dealing with two pests right now,” Prozak seethed. “Hiding like a coward behind that weak little gun of yours…I think you can be the first to die!” 

Lance had little time to react as giant metallic claws gripped his rifle, clamping down on it so tightly that it was forced to revert to its bayard form. Ripping it from the other’s grasp, Prozak pitched the bayard towards the far corner of the room. He then clenched his other, non-mechanical hand around Lance’s throat. Keith saw his hands seize at the Galra’s fingers, frantically tugging and clawing at them with futile effort. Pitiful wheezes and gurgles tumbled from Lance’s lips; his body slowly being lifted from the ground.

The previous fear and hesitance in Keith’s heart was evaporated, replaced instantly by a fire burning deep in his belly. His brain didn’t even have time to process what was happening before his body launched itself at the Galran assailant. Lance is in danger, his muscles growled with each bounding step, I won’t let him get hurt.

Keith raised his arms and leapt at Prozak’s broad back, sinking his knife deep into the thick muscle there. He clasped at anything within reach – the lip of an armour plate, thick tufts of purple fur – and dragged the knife down from shoulder to spine.

A primal howl filled the room, and the Galra bared his teeth at blood that oozed thickly from the gash. Keith attempted to push himself off of his back, but was suddenly stopped by two hands clamping down on his own. With no warning, the whole world shifted upside down – Prozak span through the air, dragging Keith along with him.

Spikes of pain rippled across the surface of his skin as the Blade was thrust violently against the floor, followed by the crushing weight of the General slamming down on top of him. It was too much – Keith seriously felt like his guts were going to pop from the pressure. As Prozak rose off of him slowly, it was everything he could do to just keep sucking in shallow, desperate gasps of air with the way that his diaphragm cramped painfully from the impact.

“Oh, still conscious? That’s good.” Prozak sneered, gripping the knife lodged deep within his lower back. His eye twitched a little as he yanked it out, spraying the floor with a light coat of crimson. He held the knife over Keith’s face menacingly.

The metal tip hovered over his throat for a few seconds; Keith felt his Adam’s apple brush against it as he gulped anxiously. Then, all of a sudden, he felt it pierce straight through his left hand – a scream tore itself through his winded lungs.

“I can have a little more fun with you this way – before I kill you, that is.” Prozak stood up from his crouched position and walked casually towards the back wall, where Lance had managed to weakly crawl his way over to his bayard. His hand was outstretched to reach it, but was quickly stomped on by the Galra’s thick black boot.

Keith winced at the brunette’s pained screech, as well as the way his bones sounded like gravel under the General’s foot. He tugged at his own hand urgently, but the sharp pull of the knife lodged through it had black fog curling at the corners of his vision. He was pretty sure it was punctured right through to the sheet metal that lined the floor, effectively pinning him there.

Lance struggled feebly as metal fingers curled around his head and raised him up into the air, as if he weighed nothing at all. 

“You seem awfully fond of your blue friend here. Is he that important to you?”

“Put him down!” Keith commanded, though his vulnerable position on the ground hardly reflected the intimidation he sought to express.

Prozak edged closer, Lance still dangling from above. He appeared to be fumbling with his belt, likely in search for something to defend himself with – his bayard, however, still lay untouched on the floor behind them. The Galran leaned closer and closer to Keith, before whispering menacingly, “I want you to watch his tiny little head, Marmoran, as I squash it like a plaxberry. I want you to look right into his eyes, as they ooze out of his head like jelly. And after that, I’ll drag that knife through your arm and right down the middle of your chest. I’m gonna flay and gut you open like a sanzorfish – maybe even make your purple-speckled hide into a nice leather coat.”

Keith was frantic now, yanking his left arm vigorously without any mental coherence. Save Lance, save Lance, save Lance, SAVE LANCE–

“You know, Keith…” Lance rasped weakly, “the system hacking device…wasn’t the only thing Pidge gave me for this mission.”

Whipping the arm at his side around, the Red Paladin stuck a black, palm-sized object onto Prozak’s cybernetic arm. Immediately, the limb erupted with ripples of electricity that appeared to jam the Galra’s control over it. He gave an agonizing roar and clutched the join at his shoulder, as if wanting to tear the corrupted arm clean off. As sparks continued to jitter across the metal, Lance was dropped to the floor as the grip on him was released.

Wasting no time, the boy scuttled back towards his bayard and finally retrieved it. Keith immediately noticed that he used his left hand to do so, as his right hung limply at his side instead – it was almost definitely broken after being stomped on earlier. Lance then disappeared behind the surveillance console along the left side of the room.

As Prozak continued to flail and convulse, Keith spurned himself into action. He gripped firmly around the knife still lodged in his palm and, clenching his remaining teeth in anticipation, wrenched it free. His vision flickered for a few seconds, but he managed to drag himself away from the edge of unconsciousness – He couldn’t afford to pass out right now, or he’d probably never wake up again.

Staggering around the Galran General, who looked to be heaving himself towards the central console, Keith ducked behind the surveillance panel alongside Lance. Finally locking eyes with the brunette again, he could do little to hide his current state of absolute frenzy. 

“You said he was weak! That he was vulnerable! He’s a fucking monster, Lance; he’s gonna slaughter us!!”

“I didn’t know, Keith! None of us knew!” He clapped his left hand tightly over the Blade’s shoulder, steadying him a little. “But we’re not gonna die here, okay?!”

Keith pushed the hand away, “You can’t promise that! It’s a miracle we haven’t died at least five different times already! But even then, I just can’t see how we…” his voice trailed off, replaced by a silently grim expression.

“…Hey, I know our situation is looking kinda bleak right now. But what’s with you, giving up? The Keith I know would rather go down kicking and screaming than ever admitting an early defeat like this.”

Now that Lance had him actually thinking about it, maybe he had changed a little since he was a Paladin of Voltron – he’d always been pretty damn stubborn when it came to knowing when to quit. But since he’d joined the Blade of Marmora, Keith had seen so many of his own comrades die. Sure, Kolivan had told him that that’s just the way things were in war, and that only their own weakness was to blame. But these were the teammates he’d worked alongside for weeks; he’d sparred with them, eaten with them in the dining hall – these were his family members…at least, kind of. And he knew from those experiences that every single one of them was strong. That you could be so strong, and STILL lose…maybe Keith had become a little scared.

However, it wasn’t scared Keith that was going to get them out of this.

“…Fine. He’s not going to stay distracted for much longer – we need to come up with a plan.”

“Ahh, there he is.” Lance smirked, earning himself probably the hundredth eye roll for the day.

“So anyway,” Keith sighed, “I think we can both agree that our earlier plan of having one of us stand back and provide support isn’t working.”

“Yeah, he’s…way too strong. I reckon we both need to come at him head-on, and try to overwhelm him by attacking at the same time.”

“We’ve got to be careful though, without anyone covering our asses from behind – his metal arm’s gotta weigh like half a tonne. If either of us gets hit by it directly, it’s lights out.”

Lance quietened for a moment, as if pondering the last comment. “If that’s the case…maybe we can use that weight against him.”

“How so?” Keith cocked his head curiously.

 “What if we took advantage of the momentum behind his swings?” Lance pointed discreetly around the side of the console, towards the handrail that separated the upper and lower levels of the room. “If we can set him off balance and send him tumbling over that, it might just give us the opening we need to end this.”

It was crazy, sure. But if they could pull it off, it might be the only chance they had at winning right now. And Lance had come up with it in a matter of seconds.

“…You know, I’m pretty sure you’re a bit different from the Lance I knew as well.” Keith said with a soft grin, “…but I think I like this one a little more. He’s smarter than I remember.”

“God, was that supposed to be a compliment?” Lance chuckled, “Because it was freaking terribl–”

“DO YOU THINK HIDING WILL SAVE YOU?!” Prozak’s deafening threat echoed over the plated floor. “Or maybe you think you can simply stop me with a cheap piece of junk like this!” He tore the jamming device from his arm, despite the sizzling sound it made against the skin of his fingertips. He then threw it across the floor; the crackling sputters coming from the object indicated that it had been well and truly destroyed.

Peeking carefully towards the Galra, the two boys watched him reach into the central console and pull out another of the two remaining quintessence canisters. Ignoring the lingering sparks, he plunged the luminous golden tube into the slot of his cybernetic arm. The electrical flickers were replaced by a pulsing glow that made Keith feel slightly nauseous. Sharp fins began to push through the gaps between the limb’s metal plates, lining it with thin blades.

“Yeah, I do not like the look of that.” Lance swallowed uneasily.

“We just have to be careful – the plan stays the same. Our only option is to give it everything we’ve got. And if…if anything happens to either of us, I just want to say th–”

“No, stop!”

“…What? I just mean that there’s a chance we migh–”

“Uh-uh! Don’t you even go there, mullet! We’re gonna kick some Garla ass and survive this, that’s non-negotiable!”

Keith smiled to himself – Lance’s positivity really was like a breath of fresh air at times like this.

“And I know for a fact that we’re gonna win anyway. You know why? It’s because I’ve got a riv–” the brunette interrupted himself, blushing a little, “–a friend like you…watching my back.”

The other boy felt his cheeks warm at the remark, but before a response could leave Keith’s pursed lips, his reply was yet again abruptly cut off. This time, however, it was by Prozak’s robotic arm tearing its way through the entire surveillance console, spraying the two in a shower of electricity. Lance slammed into the Blade at the sound of tearing metal, pushing him narrowly out of the Galra’s path. 

 “This is fucking insane!” Keith whined, the heaviness of Lance’s body pushing a weak cough out of his lungs. 

“No time for cussing, we gotta move!” The Red Paladin went to take his left hand, before seeing the gaping hole in the center of it and grabbing the right one instead. Keith allowed himself to be pulled towards the handrail, watching Lance’s other hand as it bobbed up and down floppily with each step.

“Running away again?” Prozak jeered, “Stop wasting my time!” Hot on their heels, the Galra’s long strides quickly closed the gap between them – suddenly, there was an enormous purple wall towering right over Keith.

Lance, however, was ready to pre-empt anything the General had in store for them. Releasing the other boy’s hand so that he could draw his bayard, the brunette brought forth his sword and swung determinedly at Prozak. Unfortunately, the Galra managed to spin on his heel and evade the strike. He raised his own arm to counterattack, now that the Red Paladin’s back was completely exposed.

If you can’t block the blow, Keith’s mind instructed, as if rhythmically recalling his years of combat practice, redirect it! Ducking underneath the lumbering metal appendage, he wedged his knife between the join of Prozak’s arm, twisting sideways so that the punch missed Lance. As if in perfect sync, the brunette recovered from the fumble and span around in time to block the swing of the General’s other, non-robotic arm. Lance’s blade embedded itself deeply into his hand, splitting it right through the webbing.

“Ah, so the smaller one does know how to land a scratch or two!” A murderous glint flickered in the Galra’s bilious eyes, which were piercing right through the Red Paladin, and his blood-smeared fingers began to clench around the sword shakily.

With rising unease, Lance tugged at it, before realizing that he could no longer pry the bayard from Prozak’s grip. Keith’s dagger, on the other hand, still remained firmly lodged in his shoulder.

“I was feeling pretty offended before, you know.” The Galra continued tightening his hold, inching the Red Paladin closer to him. “To think that they would have the gall to send someone like you to fight someone like me. Me! Prozak, decorated General of the Galra Empire! Highest kill count in the entire army!” His shoulders quaked ferociously with each statement. “If you’re able to pass on any messages in the afterlife, please let the Voltron Alliance know that I don’t appreciate them sending the team’s weakling to fight me.” 

“He’s not the team’s weakling!” Keith shouted from below, sending Lance a deliberate look. “He’s the team’s sharpshooter, and a damn good one, too!”

The Red Paladin let out a tiny gasp, catching onto the hint. Steeling himself, he quickly changed his bayard from sword to rifle form. The shifting size broke Prozak’s grasp, and gave Lance a clear shot. He grinned smugly, giving the Galra no time to evade the single blast that fired from his gun. 

Even though Prozak had quickly backed away in reaction, the round had managed to split the right side of his face clean open. His large purple ear was mangled badly, and the bottom half of it was barely hanging by a thread from his upper jaw.

“…That’s it…” He snarled under his breath, clutching at his cheek with his wounded hand. “I’ve had enough FUCKING AROUND!” The Galran’s robotic arm flared once again with golden energy. He swung forcefully at Keith, who was still sprawled on the ground from the earlier scuffle.

The blow missed his leg, barely, but left a craterous dent in the plated floor. If that had hit him, Keith was certain it would have shattered his entire femur. Now that Prozak’s arm was embedded in the ground, he quickly grabbed onto the top of it. He reached for his knife, still lodged in the cybernetic join at the Galra’s bicep, and gave it a firm yank.

Holding onto the blade’s handle, Keith felt himself suddenly pulled by the leg, before Prozak sent him hurtling across the room and into the wrecked surveillance console. His fall was broken by the mangled heap of electrical debris, and his body screamed at the sharp impact. He felt broken glass shards and snapped wires stab into him painfully.

Straining to lift his head, Keith could see the other boy approaching the Galra from behind. With his right hand still incapacitated, Lance struggled to shoot his rifle accurately. His blast missed, and the sharp TINK! it made as it hit the floor alerted Prozak to his presence. 

The General’s swings clearly had even more ferocity behind them than before – Lance was doing everything he could to scrape through it, but he wasn’t going to hold up against Prozak’s bloodlust-fueled rampage for much longer. Despite the searing agony that rippled through every one of his muscles, Keith forced his body to move. He staggered forward, feeling himself swaying with every step. He was only barely managing to move now, fueled by the exhausted fumes of adrenaline alone.

Lance was clearly on the verge of collapsing as well by the time Keith managed to reach him. He could see the paladin’s chest heave with each ragged breath, his hair wetly clumped together with sweat. If they were going to do something, it had to be now – neither of them had the energy to keep this up for much longer. 

Keith’s eyes flicked to the handrail – even in the frantic heat of battle, Lance had still managed to stick to their plan. Now it was his turn to finish this.

Clutching the knife in his right hand tightly, the Blade stealthily dove behind Prozak’s feet – thank god the Galran was too enraged to notice him right now. He crouched, keeping his limbs tucked in close, and yelled “Do it now, Lance!”

The Red Paladin’s expression grew reinvigorated at the sound of Keith’s voice. With a final burst of energy, he leapt to the side as Prozak wound up his arm to swing. As the metal fist was launched towards him, Lance pulled the trigger of his rifle and sent the momentum of the punch spinning sideways. The weight of his own limb threw the Galra off-balance, tugging him backwards. Keith seized the opening; he slammed himself into the backs of the General’s legs and pushed him over the guard rail.

Wasting no time, Keith slid down between the gaps of the railing. He landed on top of Prozak, and dug his knife deep into the side of the Galra’s neck. A spurt of bloody red spittle dribbled down his chin, and his struggling grew rapidly weaker as the blade twisted in his throat.

Looking up at his killer, Prozak let out a bitter laugh. He hocked a bit in the back of his throat, before spitting blood right in Keith’s face. The boy’s eyes twitched a little as he felt the warm liquid trickle down his cheek.

“Heh…to think I’d be killed so shamefully…by a couple of weaklings like yo–” He paused, gurgling up darker blood than before. “No matter though; Voltron…and the Blades of Marmora…you’ll all be slaughtered…eventually…”

Keith’s eyes widened and he thrust his knife even deeper into Prozak’s neck, wanting to make him stop talking faster.

A bloodied purple hand quivered as it rose to the General’s chest. “…Vrepit sah…” He rasped, before his eyelids flickered shut.

Wordlessly, Keith’s hands sprung from the handle of his blade as if it had burned him. He slid off of the Galra’s motionless chest, and his entire body began to shake uncontrollably. 

Lance hurriedly jumped down to the room’s lower level and scooped Keith off the floor, away from the body. He wrapped his arms around the other boy tightly, whispering gently into his ear, “It’s over, Keith. It’s okay. We’re okay, please just breathe.” They remained like this for several minutes, until Lance could finally feel the trembling beneath him start to die down. 

“We…still need to finish the mission.” Keith finally croaked out, startling the brunette a little.

“R–right.” Lance fumbled around inside the pouch attached to his belt, before pulling out a small silver device of some sort. Keith thought it kind of looked like a combination between a USB and a Swiss army knife, since it had all sort of weird ports and plugs lining its edges.

Standing up, Lance silently walked over to the central console – the one they’d determined controlled the fleet’s navigations. Holding the device between his teeth, he used his good hand to pull on a blue cord at the bottom of the device, extending it about an arm’s length before holding it over the control panel. He hovered there for a few seconds, eyes rapidly scanning across the countless buttons and switches in front of him, before finally locating an appropriately sized hole for the cable to be plugged into.

“We’re lucky this wasn’t the console that Prozak destroyed, huh?” Lance said, not looking up from the controls. He was fidgeting with several knobs, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration.

“…Yeah.” Keith replied, shakily rising to his feet. He slowly started padding over to the Red Paladin, before his eyes darted a little to the right. There was still a single tube of quintessence, sitting untouched inside the exposed compartment of the navigation console. Keith gingerly moved closer to the canister, licking his lips nervously.

“Ugh, what do you mean ‘insert PIN key’?! Pidge didn’t give me a PIN key!” Lance yelled at the tiny silver stick in his hand. “Is it one of the buttons on the back here?” He was seemingly distracted trying to set up the system-hacking device – that was good. Keith could work with that.

The Blade delicately reached out to the glass container, his hand flinching a little as he watched the lustrous golden liquid flowing languidly inside of it. No, he could do this. If Kolivan said that this was his only hope at returning his body back to normal again, then he had to. The very thought of letting any more changes happen to him pushed his arm forward, his thin fingers wrapping themselves around the tube and carefully lifting it from its stand.

Keith took a few cautious steps backwards, careful not to draw Lance’s attention away from the flashing lights and symbols on the display monitor. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his tongue slip in between one of the gaps in his gums. The sweat that dripped from his clammy palms made the puncture in his left hand sting terribly. Here we go, he thought, mentally bracing himself.

Holding the canister with the crook of his elbow, he gently began to unscrew the metal cap at the base. He delicately placed the lid on the ground, attempting to make as little noise as possible. Keith looked down into the tube, mesmerized by the enchanting glow of what he knew to be pure life energy itself. He sniffed lightly at the quintessence, but couldn’t detect any sort of smell coming from it.

What am I even supposed to do with this? His brain searched for anything Kolivan had told him about what to do with the substance, but came up blank. Should I drink it? Pour it over my skin, maybe? I guess all of the changes are external, after all… Keith pinched his brow together in confusion. Maybe he should wait until they meet back up with Kolivan and the other Blades…although, that was assuming they survived against the reinforcements sent to the freight carriers. What if they didn’t? Then who would tell him how to reverse his transformation? No, he had to this himself – it was now or never. 

Gulping uneasily, Keith teetered the tube in his hand a little, before upending its entire contents over his own face. Oh my god, why did I just do that? He sputtered, using his injured hand to wipe the sticky liquid from his eyes. He felt a strange tingling – no, burning – in the center of his palm, so he brought it away from his face to look at it more clearly. 

At what he saw, Keith’s breath hitched sharply. The slit in his hand, which used to be large enough for him to see right through to the other side, was shrinking rapidly. Tiny threads of skin and ligament were knitting the hole closed, until it was no longer there at all. Shock wracked Keith’s body, causing the glass canister to slip out of his other hand and shatter loudly, sending broken shards skittering around his ankles. 

“Keith, what was that nois–why are you all gooey? What happened?!” Lance had obviously heard the crash and rushed over at the sight of a very slimy, very panicked Keith.

Without even regarding the other’s presence, Keith frantically tore off the tattered remains of his glove, flexing his hand as if it were completely foreign to him. He was pretty sure it would be hard for the brunette to tell with how blood-caked it was – thank god – but Keith on the other hand could see it as clear as day: the cut had completely healed, somehow, but his skin was still purple.

The quintessence didn’t get rid of the mark. It didn’t fix him.

Keith was only vaguely aware of Lance’s shrill voice shouting something in his ear, warm hands jostling him slightly, because his breath was coming out quicker and quicker. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed harshly, he was hyperventilating – coughing, choking. This wasn’t normal. He doubled over, clutching his throat.

The searing pain of a thousand tiny, white-hot needles pricked under the skin of Keith’s gums. His entire mouth burned as he felt the flesh there flaying itself open, felt all of his teeth pushed out of the membrane as he spat them onto the floor. Blood gushed out in torrents, his jaw stuck hanging open as he continued to retch and gag. It gradually became thicker, mixing with the bile that rose from the back of Keith’s throat. His stomach clenched tightly, lurching forward with each new splatter of fluids.

“Keith? Keith, oh my god! Please, -h god, stay wi—me, Kei--” His ears were ringing, and Lance’s muffled yelps are the last thing Keith managed to make out before he felt himself falling forwards. Pain spiked throughout his entire body, and suddenly he was plunged into complete darkness.

Chapter Text

The soft purring of an engine gently roused Keith awake.

 …Red...

He’d recognize the sound of her anywhere. But why could he hear it? Wasn’t he onboard an enemy navigation shi–

Keith’s eyes snapped open as his memories came flooding back. Fighting Prozak. Finding the canister of quintessence. Having all of his teeth forced out of his gums – he timidly flicked his tongue inside his mouth. There was a hitch in his pulse at the unexpected contact of enamel, but they weren’t in the condition he was normally used to. The teeth he could feel were different – bigger, sharper. Definitely not human.

With his vision now in focus, Keith’s eyes panned across the ceiling – yes, he was definitely laying on the floor of the Red Lion right now. Did Lance carry me here? He looked over to the pilot’s seat, and saw familiar tufts of brown hair peeking around the edges of the headrest. He wondered where they were going – did they finish the mission?

The strange coolness of his chest had Keith craning his neck downwards, where he was greeted by an unexpectedly exposed view of his body – his no-longer-blotchy, completely purple body. A lump formed in his throat at the realization that if he was able to see this, Lance had seen it too.

Even though his suit was torn open, everything suddenly felt way too constricting. He needed to get out of this room, get off of this ship, get away from him. Keith tried to hoist his body up from the ground, but let out a pained grunt as every one of his muscles vehemently protested the action.

“…Keith? That you?” The Red Paladin croaked out in an indiscernible tone. He didn’t turn his head away from the screen in front of him.

The other boy jumped at the sound, but said nothing. A long silence passed between them.

“…I know you can hear me.” Lance whispered, still maintaining a tone that Keith struggled to interpret. “Are y– uh, how do you feel?”

“...Therrible.” The Blade’s face quickly burned in humiliation – apparently, speaking with his new teeth would take some getting used to.

“Heh, you and me both. It uh…looks like that weird glowy stuff in that glass tube healed your hand, though. How’d you know it would do that?”

“I didn’th.” I thought it would do something else, Keith mused bitterly to himself.

“Oh, well you should have saved some for me!” Lance waved his arm over the edge of his armrest, revealing a makeshift splint wrapped around his right hand. It looked similar to some of the metal bars that Keith had landed on when Prozak threw him into the smashed surveillance console.

“Yeah, thorry…” He ran his fingers idly down the edge of the split in the front of his suit. It was smooth, as though it had been cleanly sliced that way. “Um…do you know whath happened tho the fronth of my thuith?”

“Your what?”

Keith’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “My blade thuith. The thing thath I’m wearing.”

“Oh, your blade suit!” Then, unexpectedly, the brunette’s voice grew quieter. “Well…after we beat Prozak, you suddenly started throwing up blood everywhere. You were yelling, and coughing, and then you just collapsed. And then you started choking on all the blood, so I…I cut it open. That’s what you’re supposed to do in that situation, so…”

Keith was certain now – Lance had definitely seen it. He’d seen the violet-coloured bloom that had almost swallowed his skin up completely. The Blade could still feel the tingling border of it resting at his cheeks, for now at least.

“Um…are y–I mean, uh…” Lance paused, carefully considering his words. “…Do you want to talk about it?”

“…Thalk abouth whath?” Keith spat, knuckles tightening at his sides.

Lance shook his head in response, enough to rattle the pilot seat a little. “You know what, Keith; don’t make me say it. We don’t have to talk if you’re not up for it.”

“No, go on. Thay ith!” He’d managed to sit up now, and was staring holes into the back of the brunette’s head.

“Dude, why are you getting all worke–”

“Thtop danthing around the thopic and athk me why I’m fucking purple!”

Lance’s hand slammed down on the ship’s steering controls, jerking the entire cockpit. With no seatbelt to hold him down, Keith was sent hurtling forward into the back of the Red Paladin’s chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry! You’ll have to forgive me for assuming it was a sensitive topic! I’m just so used to Mr. bottles-it-up-and-won’t-talk-to-anyone that I thought to myself ‘gee, I’d better not push Keith to talk about this, that would be a real lous– no, a real shitty thing of me to do’!” Lance angrily jabbed a small red button on the control console to switch the ship into cruise mode, before swiveling his chair around to face the crumpled body on the floor.

Lance never swears, Keith thought, staring wide-eyed up at the brunette leaning over him, he’s really pissed off right now.

“You’ve been blowing up at me all day, but I’ve been real nice about it, you know? I’ve given you space; I’ve let you vent all of your pent-up steam.” He pointed a sharp finger at the Blade accusingly. “But you do NOT get to blow up at me after what just happened. Who do you think had to watch you puking up blood everywhere, all the while assuming that you’re dying, and then still finish the damn mission, reroute the cargo ships, contact Kolivan, and haul your unconscious ass back to the Red Lion?! Did I mention my hand’s still broken? Do you know how hard it is to carry someone with only one hand?!”

Keith sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darting to the ground to avoid making eye contact.

“…Seriously? You’re not even gonna say anything?”

The Blade’s voice quivered vulnerably. “Whath am I thuppothed tho thay tho thath?!”

 “Well, sorry might be a good place to start!”

Lance’s words hit like a slap right to Keith’s face – one that he knew he deserved, too. The verbal blow felt as if it had knocked all of the pent-up emotions out of him, and he had no energy left to restrain the hot tears that streaked down his cheeks. Keith hugged his knees up against his body, knocking his head lightly against them as pitiful whimpers bubbled past his lips.

The Red Paladin didn’t say anything, letting the Blade expel the deep, body-shaking sobs he knew must’ve been pent up for a long time now – months, even.

“…I’m…I’m tho thorry, Lanthe.” Keith hiccupped, the weak crack of his voice making it even harder to understand him. “I wath thcared…tho thcared of you finding outh abouth…thith.” Keith stretched his calloused, purple-blotched fingers out over his chest, despite the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball instead.

The other boy gave a weary sigh. “Yeah well… I obviously know about it now. So you can stop being a jerk and just…talk to me, alright?” Lance ruffled the head of thick black hair in front of him, causing Keith to finally look up again. His eyes were red and puffy, and his snot mingled with the crusted blood around his mouth.

“…Okay.” He rasped, feeling impossibly small in that moment. Keith had never felt more exposed than he did right now. Never this helpless. Never this weak. He sensed Lance’s eyes crawling over his skin – were they judging him? Or merely studying his strange appearance?

“So um…I’ll guess I’ll start with the obvious question…” Lance slowly eased out, upon realizing that Keith still wasn’t ready to open up without some prompting. “Why are you…purple?”

Keith’s shoulders tensed at the question, and he fidgeted with his torn sleeve as he replied “I don’th know.”

“You…don’t?”

He shook his head, staring down at his own feet. Keith was doing everything he could to force himself not to start crying again.

“Well, how about when it first appeared? Do you remember when that was?”

The Blade nodded. “Ith wath…when we foughth Tharkon a few monthth ago. There wath thath…weird energy beam we goth hith with – the one thath made uth feel really thired.”

“Oh, I remember that. You looked…really unwell when we got back to the Castleship.”

“Yeah, I felth like thshith.” Keith scrunched up his face. “Thhhshith. Thhhhshh–ugh, I can’th even fucking thwear properly! Thith is bullthsh–really dumb!” 

Lance laughed lightly at the sulky pout that the Blade was making.

“Ith’th noth funny, Lanthe.”

“It is pretty cute, though.”

…Wait. Did Lance really just call him cute? Keith’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Did you…really juth–”

“Haha, uh? No? I definitely didn’t!” The brunette was blushing down to his neck, his eyebrows raised so high on his forehead that they were practically grazing his hairline. 

“Um, anyway…” Keith moved on, trying to hide his own pink cheeks. “When we goth back, there wath thith…weird purple mark on my thkin. Ith kepth growing bigger and bigger…and then I couldn’th hide ith anymore, tho I–”

“So you left?” Dark blue eyes pierced straight through his own.

“…Yeah. I lefth.”

“Keith…” Lance groaned, “why didn’t you tell anyone? We could’ve tried to help–”

“No!” The Blade quickly barked out. “Don’th you geth ith, Lanthe? I can’th leth anyone know abouth thith! I mighth noth know why thith ith happening, but do you really think I don’th know whath ith lookth like? You all know abouth my herithage, it’th noth hard tho thake a gueth!”

“What does your heritage have to do with– oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. Ith wath hard enough when Allura wouldn’th even thpeak tho me becauthe I had Galran blood in my veinth. Buth walking around the cathle when I’m brighth fucking purple? You know Thiro’s thtill noth comforthable around Kolivan and the other Bladeth – he’d have a thtroke if he thaw me like thith. And everyone elthe…”

“Keith, stop it! You don’t know that–”

“Are you thrying tho thell me you don’th think Allura would flip her thsh– would flip outh if thee thaw me righth now?”

“…I mean…maybe at first, but you’re still–”

“I’m theriouth, Lanthe! I’m only thelling you all of thith becauthe you found outh anyway. Buth you can’th thell anybody elthe! Promithe me you won’th thell them!” Keith had urgently taken up a death grip on Lance’s shoulders, and his eyes were filled with a sudden desperation that Lance found it difficult to say no to.

“Okay! Okay. I…won’t be the one who tells them.” He felt the hands on his arms loosen a little. Settling his brow, he tried to regain control of the discussion. “But you know I saw what happened when those chompers of yours came in – you can’t just stay quiet and do nothing, Keith. It’s…you need to let Coran run a check-up on you, or something!”

“No way.” The Blade shook his head stubbornly. “When we’re back ath the cathle, I’m gonna call Kolivan and thell him thath the quinthetthenthe didn’th fikth me. Then maybe he can help me figure outh thomething elthe tho thry, I gueth.” 

“But what if he can’t figure it out? Then what’re you gonna do, huh?” 

“I don’th know!” He threw up his hands exasperatedly. “Buth I’m noth lething anyone thee me unthil my thkin ith back to normal. And my theeth. And my hair.”

Lance leaned sidewards in his seat, trying to peer around Keith’s body. “Wait, what’s…wrong with your hair?”

“Nothing! Thtop looking!” The other boy clamped his hands over the back of his neck, before scurrying over to the back corner of the Red Lion’s cockpit. 

Lance gave an exhausted huff. “Fine, call Kolivan when we get back to the castle. But I’m not covering for you after that, alright?”

“I’m noth athking you tho.” Keith hunched against the wall, his ungloved finger probing the inside of his mouth.

“…Good.” Lance gave a firm nod and swiveled his chair back to the Lion’s controls, seemingly satisfied enough with their agreement.

--

Still huddled against the back wall of the cockpit, Keith was finally starting to realise just how drained he was from everything that had happened today. Their battle with Prozak had pushed both of them right to their limits – he still felt guilty that he hadn’t been able to heal Lance’s hand with the quintessence. Then again, it wasn’t as if he knew that was what it would do. He stretched his mended hand out in front of himself, scrutinizing both sides intently. It was like it’d never been injured in the first place – there wasn’t even a scar to prove it.

Then there was the fact that his…situation had been discovered. He thought maybe he’d feel a little better after talking to Lance about the whole transforming thing, but in truth he just felt sick right now. It wasn’t as though the brunette had said anything wrong – quite the opposite, actually. But now he had to start thinking about things he really didn’t want to. What if Kolivan didn’t have any new answers? He supposed he could at least go back to hiding out with the Blades again, for a while. If his teeth were anything to go by though, just letting this transformation happen wasn’t something he was prepared to do – he wasn’t sure if his body could withstand it.

Hell, maybe getting Coran to have a look at him in the med bay wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Who knows if Altean technology might have the ability to reverse whatever the anti-quintessence blast had managed to trigger within him? But…then he’d have to reveal to everyone what was happening to him – yeah, that option was definitely out.

Was it irrational of him to feel like he couldn’t tell Team Voltron the truth? Keith didn’t think it was. After all, he’d had a lot of intimate experience with being treated like an outcast throughout his life. The only thing he really knew was that he couldn’t bear to see them all look at him with the same venomous hatred that they did with Zarkon’s army. He just couldn’t.

“…Keith, what’s that chattering noise? Is that you?”

Lance’s voice startled him a little, and the half-Galra instinctively wrapped his arms across his chest in defense.

“…It’s your teeth!” Lance squinted at him from across the room. “Are you cold?” 

Keith’s fingers brushed gently against his bare skin, which was peppered with goosebumps. “Uh, maybe a litthle. Ith’th fine though.” 

“Psht, it’s not fine; hang on a sec.”  Lance put Red on autopilot again and stood up from his chair, walking over to the storage compartment along the left side of the control console. He reached inside of it with his one good hand, pulling out his favourite khaki hoodie. “Here,” he said, tossing the jacket at Keith.

Unfortunately, the Blade had no time to react to the thick wad of fabric being thrown towards his face at point-blank range. “…Th-nk-th.” He muffled beneath the cotton that had stuffed its way into his mouth. 

“Don’t mention it – just try not to get any drool on it, alright?” Lance winked playfully. “By the way, we’re about fifteen minutes away from the Castleship now, in case you…wanted a warning for that, I guess.”

“Yeah, thankth.” Keith nodded plainly as he watched the Red Paladin return to the pilot’s seat and reengage the ship controls. He rubbed the light grey material of Lance’s hood – it was incredibly soft. No wonder he liked to wear it so much; his own stiff, leathery jacket paled in comparison.

Carefully, Keith pulled an arm through the sleeve, his hand wiggling past the wrist cuff. Thankfully it was a baggy fit on Lance, otherwise he’d be worried about it accommodating his now-larger body. Pulling on the rest of the jacket, he gripped at the collar and inhaled deeply. It smelled of mint and cucumber, probably from the face cream he’d seen the other boy wearing a few times.

Wait…why am I smelling Lance’s jacket? Flustered, Keith quickly jerked the fabric away from his face. Instead, he fumbled with the clasps at the hem, before finally aligning them and zipping the front up as high as it would go. That was much better; he appreciated finally having some material against his chest again.

He looked past Lance towards the screen at the front of the Lion, just in time to see the Castleship slowly rising into view. Keith’s heart pounded nervously as he thought about everyone inside of it, just waiting for their arrival.

It’s okay, Lance promised he wouldn’t tell them, he reassured himself. Just get to your room so that you can call Kolivan, and you can take things from there. Nobody has to know anything right now. It’ll all work out fine.

God, he wished he actually believed that. Keith tried his best to wedge himself into a corner, gripping at indents in the wall of the cockpit tightly to brace himself as best as he could for the landing.

“Okay, we’re gonna start pulling in now, s–what are you doing?” Lance cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the Blade squished tightly against the junction.

“Brathing mythelf.”

“Dude, you can’t just hold onto the wall when we land. Get over here, you’re gonna have to...” The brunette seemed to briefly choke on his words a little. “…Uh, s-sit on my lap.” 

Keith could practically feel steam shooting out of his ears. That was…no, he couldn’t. Definitely not. Despite his mental resistance, he still found his legs jerking their way over to the pilot’s chair anyway.

“Um…where do you wanth me?”

“J-j-just uh! Turn around and s-sit facing forward!”

Keith followed the instructions, awkwardly lowering himself into the space between Lance’s thighs. He swore he heard the brunette’s breath hitch behind him.

“G-good! That’s good! Now if you take Red’s steering controls, I’ll loop my hands around your w-waist like a seatbelt so you don’t go flying.”

Keith gave a shaky murmur of acknowledgement, before sliding his palms onto the handgrips of the Red Lion’s controls. The left one was slightly slippery – apparently, Lance was sweating so bad that it had soaked through his glove.

He jumped a little as lithe arms snaked their way around his midriff, holding him down as firmly as they could with the splint in the way. “I-i-is that okay? N-not too tight?”

“Thath’th one hell of a thtammer you goth going on there.” Keith teased, trying to mask his own awkwardness. 

“L-Like you can talk, lispy.” Lance jabbed back – he supposed he probably deserved that one.

“…Okay then, I’m gonna tharth pulling intho the cathle now.”

Gently, Keith eased the steering controls forward, feeling Red point her nose downward in response. He felt a warm tingle run down his spine – it had been so long since he’d last piloted his Lion. Although, it was Lance’s Lion too now – their Lion? It was kinda weird to think of it that way. Not…entirely unpleasant, though.

The low rumble of Red’s engine filled the cockpit as they began to make their descent. Keith felt Lance’s limbs squeeze his waist tighter as they pulled up a little, before finally docking inside of the castle hangar.

The roar of the engine’s thrusters faded rapidly, before the only sounds that remained were the heavy pants of the two pilots – and, in Keith’s case, the thumping of his own fluttering heartbeat in his ears. He slowly became more aware of the heat radiating from Lance’s skin, his own burning responsively at each point of contact between them. He…really needed to get up.

“Lanthe, you can leth go of me now.”

“Sorry!” The brunette squawked, hands springing free from the other’s middle.

Keith quickly slid forward, standing off to the side to conceal his pink-flushed cheeks. It’s really hot in here, he thought to himself, why is it suddenly so hot? He grabbed the front of his – Lance’s – jacket, using it to fan himself a little.

“Well, we made it back safe, somehow.” Lance sighed out, seeming to have finally calmed himself down a bit. He rose up from the pilot seat, stretching his back exhaustedly. “First thing I’ll have to do is check in with Allura to let her know that the mission was a success – more or less, anyway.” He turned to Keith expectantly. “You’re…not gonna come, are you?”

The Blade shook his head with vehemence. “Noooo. Noth happening.”

“Well, what are you gonna do then?”

“I’m gonna thneak off to my room and call Kolivan. Hopefully he’ll be able tho thend a cruither outh tho pick me up thomethime thonighth.” 

“Oh, you’re…not gonna be sticking around?” Lance visibly drooped at the statement.

“You know I can’th, Lanthe. I’ll…I’ll thry to come back afther I get thith–” he gestured down his body, “–thorthed outh. I don’th know when thpethifically.”

“…Right. Of course.” Lance nodded gloomily. “In that case, I uh…” he fidgeted, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. “I’ll miss seeing you around…partner.” 

“You thoo…parthner.” Keith smiled softly at the brunette, but his gut twisted a little as the other forced himself to reciprocate it. Keith could tell he wasn’t feeling it – it was hard to say whether he really was, either.

With a dejected look in his eye, Lance made his way slowly out of the Red Lion. Keith wordlessly watched his back, listening to his steady footsteps become more and more distant until they faded away completely.

He’d…really messed that up somehow, hadn’t he? Keith clicked his tongue, tasting the bitterness at the back of his throat. He didn’t mean to end things with Lance like that. Not after everything they’d shared today.

I…have to put myself first right now, he consoled himself; I can make amends with Lance later. When things are back to normal again.

Steeling himself, Keith pulled up his hood – Lance’s hood – and carefully descended his way out the open mouth of the Red Lion. What he wasn’t expecting to see, however, was Lance still standing in the hangar, a few dozen feet away.

Upon noticing him, Lance shot him a look of urgency – You shouldn’t be here!, it practically screamed. As the half-Galra’s eyes gradually panned upwards, he immediately realized why: the entirety of Team Voltron had apparently come to the hangar to greet them.

“Keith, buddy! What’re you doing here?” Hunk’s cheerful voice suddenly directed everyone’s attention towards him.

Panic immediately set in, and Keith did the only thing he could think of in that moment – he ran. The Blade sprinted past his former teammates, even though his body screamed at the exertion; even though he had no energy left. His gloved hand tugged his hood over his face, the other tucked behind his body to conceal its purple stain.

“Keith? Get back here!” That was his brother’s voice this time – he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered right now was getting out of there, before anyone could get a hard enough look at him.

Keith burst through the hangar doorway, feet still pounding against the floor as he rounded corner after corner, lungs heaving with every movement. He finally bounded down towards their personal quarters, skidding to a halt in front of his own room. Fumbling with the keypad, he haggardly punched in his PIN code and squeezed through the cracked entrance, whipping back around to shut and lock it before it had even finished opening all the way.

With his exhaustion hitting him at last, Keith slumped against the thick steel door. He wheezed, desperate for oxygen, as he slid down to the floor and clutched at his aching sides. As his breathing finally started evening out, he heard the telltale tramps of feet clattering towards his room, before a fist began pounding loudly against it.

“Keith, open up! We know you’re in there!”

“As the commander of this Castleship, Keith, I order you to open this door at once!”

“Guys, yelling at him’s not gonna make him wanna come out!”

“Yeah; you just startled us, Keith. We’re not mad at you. Please come out.”

Wincing, Keith dragged his tired body over to his bed, burying his face beneath the pillow. They couldn’t get into his room, after all, so if he could just ignore everyone for long enough…

“Number Four, closing people out isn’t exactly a good team-building strategy!”

“Uh…Keith? Please come out.” 

…Then eventually they would all go away.

--

It took several hours, but the hammering on Keith’s door finally ceased. He lifted his head cautiously, half-expecting it to pick back up again at the first sign of movement. Thankfully though, it didn’t.

Keith sat up from his mattress, scratching at his head idly. With a yawn, he stretched his mouth around at various angles. It felt like his lips weren’t quite as taut over his new teeth as they used to be – he hoped this meant he was starting to get more familiar with them. Wait, scratch that, he corrected; I don’t want to get familiar with them.

He supposed now would be a safe time to try calling Kolivan, though he hoped that Allura hadn’t already beaten him to it. Things would only get messier if the two of them started asking questions about him behind his back.

He scooted himself closer to the bedside table, lifting up the panel on top that controlled the private communications device. Keith was incredibly thankful that each of their rooms were equipped with one – trying to sneak all the way to the bridge of the Castleship would have been an absolute nightmare.

Pulling the keyboard towards himself, Keith entered the Blade of Marmora’s frequency – he’d used it more than enough times on missions to contact their base, after all – and waited anxiously for a response.

After about forty-five seconds, the communicator screen blipped to life. The Leader of the Blades appeared before Keith, wearing his signature scowl.

“Keith…I see you’re alive. The Red Paladin said things were a bit touch-and-go on your end for a while there.” 

“…You could say that.” He muttered, wrapping his tongue consciously around each word. “Was the mission successful?”

“Indeed it was, though we unfortunately lost Enox in the crossfire. She was a noble warrior; her service will not be forgotten.” 

Keith’s stomach dropped. “Are…are you serious?” The news had caught him completely off-guard, and yet Kolivan spoke of it as if it were nothing. No, he didn’t have time to get sidetracked – he could mourn his teammate later, but right now he just needed to get back to the Marmoran base. Then he’d be able to come up with a new plan to fix his body for good.

“I am, though your surprise makes me feel as though this wasn’t the reason for your call.”

“No, it wasn’t. See, we found a canister of quintessence onboard the navigator ship;” Keith held his left palm in front of the screen. “As you can see though, it didn’t actually work.”

“Yes, the Red Paladin mentioned you…pouring something all over yourself, and then having some sort of fit.” 

The Blade blushed. “Yeah, well, it was the quickest way to find out whether it’d fix me or not! And it didn’t, so…”

“So you’re asking me for more advice, is that it?”

“…Something like that.” He knitted his fingers together awkwardly.

Kolivan exhaled deeply. “I told you when we first had this conversation, Keith; I don’t know what is happening to you at the moment, or why. You asked me for some advice, so I gave it. I don’t have any other solutions for you, so if you’re really that determined to sort out this transformation business of yours – speak to someone else. I’m not interested anymore.”

“But–!”

“Furthermore…” The Blade Leader shifted in his seat. “I spoke to Princess Allura not half a varga ago. Apparently you’ve holed yourself up on the Castleship?”

“W-well, I…” Dammit, looks like she beat me to it after all. “I can’t go out there and let everyone see me like this.”

Kolivan’s eyebrow quirked skeptically.

“I went back to my quarters so that I could call you and…ask if you’d be able to send a cruiser to come pick me up? Once I’m back at the base, I’ll be able to figure out anoth–”

“No.”

“P–pardon?” 

“No.” His pale yellow eyes narrowed. “Do you know what my conversation with Princess Allura entailed? What was supposed to be a discussion of the recent mission, assessing its success and planning future actions, instead became an endless stream of the team’s worry and concern for you. She interrogated me about what I’d been doing to support your integration to the Blades, and if I’d considered your feelings when organizing my end of the navigation ship infiltration. Pah!” Kolivan scoffed loudly.

“It’s not like I actually asked her to do any of that! I still consider myself a Blade; I…have no interest in returning to Team Voltron right now.”

“Whether you consider yourself one or not, I am strictly informing you that you’re not welcome back here. I warned you that I had no desire to be dragged into your petty drama, and yet the drama seems to have found me regardless.” The Blade Leader held up his hand dismissively. “What you choose to do with your teammates from here is your decision, but don’t expect me to send anyone to bail you out of it.”

Keith’s knuckles whitened resentfully. “I’ve…worked tirelessly during my time as a Blade. I killed myself in training for you. I followed every order you gave me.” He bit his tongue, trying to hold back his bubbling rage. “So how can you kick me out of the team for something I didn’t even do?!”

“Because you don’t belong here!” Kolivan seethed. “You may have the strength and abilities to be a Blade…but you lack the heart for it. Team Voltron…is a better fit for you.”

Keith’s shoulders dropped, his anger quickly dissipating. 

“Furthermore…I don’t have the answers you’re looking for – if anyone can help you now, it’s the Alteans. Me letting you hide yourself within our ranks, just so that you can destroy yourself…that would only make me a poor leader.”

“But I…I can’t tell them about this. They won’t accept that I’m…you know…”

“A Galra?”

Keith stared at his lap guiltily – that hadn’t come out right.

Still, Kolivan let out a sigh. “Your team would entrust their very lives to you, Keith. Perhaps it is you who needs to give them a little more credit. In any case, I have other matters to attend to.” The Galran reached for the communicator monitor, before pausing. “I hope that you…find the solution you’re seeking.”

The screen in front of him fizzed to black, leaving Keith sitting on his bed in silence. Dazedly, he reached out for his pillow again, before curling his body tightly around it. His vision started to become blurred with tears.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.

Chapter Text

It had been exactly three days since Keith had last left his room, and quite frankly, Lance was over it.

“Little high on that last shot, bud!” 

“Yeah, well, you try shooting a rifle with a stupid cast on your hand!” Lance sulked to the Yellow Paladin, awkwardly trying to adjust his grip on the gun.

“Dude, if you’re not feeling it then we’ll take a break – you don’t need to push yourself.”

“I know that, I just–!” The brunette gave a frustrated sigh, lowering his weapon a little. “God, I know he uses training to take his mind off of stuff. Why can’t it work like that for me?”

“Still stewing over Keith, huh?” Hunk gave a knowing grin.

“No, uh-uh! Don’t you go giving me that look!” Lance pouted.

The larger boy chuckled lightly, walking closer and placing a calm hand on the Red Paladin’s shoulder. “Then why don’t you stop taking your anger out on target practice and tell me what’s up?”

Lance snorted, sending him a playful smirk in return. “Oh my bad, I didn’t realize you were my guidance counsellor!” Then, however, his smile suddenly dropped again. Furrowing his eyebrows, he lifted his arms up and fired another shot at the target across the room.

The beam of energy sparked through the air, missing its mark completely and instead hitting the back wall of the firing range. The blast hissed loudly as it dissipated into white smoke, leaving a darkly scorched ring that marked the impact. 

“Tsk!” Lance clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. It was stupid Keith’s fault, distracting him like this.

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic.” Shaking his head, Hunk moved his hand from the brunette’s shoulder to the top of his rifle, gently pushing it down.

Taking the hint, Lance begrudgingly lowered his weapon and returned it to its bayard form. He held his focus on the mirrored surface for a while, gazing mindlessly at his own red-tinted reflection. With a sigh, he began to speak softly. “…On the way back from the mission, he…he finally started to open up a little, y’know?”

The Yellow Paladin looked down attentively, letting the other boy take his time with his words.

“I mean, it’s always been easy for us to talk as rivals, but this was different.” Lance screwed up his nose slightly, still staring at his bayard. “I guess it kinda felt like we were finally starting to talk as friends.”

It wasn’t as if Lance had ever had any issues speaking with the former Red Paladin – their entire relationship was built on a foundation of bickering and arguing. But lately, he could sense that Keith was softening to him, showing him a side that he didn’t normally let others see. It made him feel…special, somehow. And being trusted with Keith’s secret? He’d originally thought that made him extra special.

Now though, he was starting to realize that it really was more of a burden than anything. From the moment the half-Galran had bolted out of the hangar and shut himself off in his quarters, the responsibility of answering the team’s bombardment of questions – Why is Keith here? Why did he run off? Is something wrong with him? – had somehow become Lance’s problem instead.

“I don’t know if I’m seeing things…” Pidge had said at the time, adjusting her glasses, “…but when Keith ran past just now, he looked kinda…blotchy.”

While Allura, Shiro, Coran and Matt all chased after the Blade as he sprinted through the castle, Hunk and Pidge had both hung back with the injured Red Paladin.

“I–it was probably just blood! I’m pretty caked with the stuff too, see?” Lance gave a forced laugh.

“Oh…okay, yeah. Gross.”

“More importantly,” Hunk interjected, “What’s Keith doing back here with you, anyway?”

The Red Paladin shrugged. “He was…actually sorta unconscious when we left the enemy ship, so it wasn’t like he could head back to the Marmoran base on his own or anyth–OW.” A twinge of pain suddenly rippled through his palm – it looked like the adrenaline was finally starting to wear off.

“Yikes, that looks pretty bad,” The Yellow Paladin observed, pointing at Lance’s poorly-bandaged hand. “There’s blood all over the bandages and everything.”

“Oh, this? This is actually Keith’s blood! It’s…yeah, it’s broken alright though. Hurts like hell, too.”

“Maybe Allura will kiss it better for you.” Pidge goaded, elbowing Lance in the arm.

“Shut uuuuup!” The brunette groaned. “We should be following the others anyway, make sure Keith’s okay.”

“Ooh, why? Would you rather he kiss it bette–ow!”

Pidge’s kissy-face was disturbed by a flick to the back of her head from Hunk.

“I was only kidding, geez!” She whined, rubbing at the spot.

Ignoring their banter, Lance had already started strolling after the rest of the team. He saw the vague direction they’d run off in, and he already had a pretty good idea of where Keith was headed. After all, he’d told Lance that he was planning on calling Kolivan as soon as they were back at the Castleship.

I hope he’s alright, the Red Paladin worried to himself. Sure, he thought that Keith was overreacting in his desperation to keep the whole purple skin thing a secret, but he could at least respect his decision for the time being. Having everyone chasing after him down the halls definitely wasn’t going to help the situation. 

As Lance began approaching the private quarters, he could hear Shiro’s robotic arm reverberating loudly against one of the steel doors – it was probably safe to assume it was Keith’s.

Sure enough, upon rounding the corner, he saw Shiro, Allura, Coran and Matt all circled around the entrance to Keith’s room. Looking at the door panel to the side of it, he could see a large red lock symbol over the input screen. Of course, he’s locked himself inside, Lance ruminated, though he couldn’t say it was surprising. 

Hearing footsteps from behind, he turned to see Pidge and Hunk jogging past him to rejoin the rest of the team.

“Keith, open up! We know you’re in there!” Shiro gave another few thumps against the metal barrier.

“Shiro, your pounding is accomplishing nothing here.” Allura said tersely. Stepping in front of him, she raised her voice toward’s Keith’s door. “As the commander of this Castleship, Keith, I order you to open this door at once!” 

“Guys, yelling at him’s not gonna make him wanna come out!” Pidge stood defensively in front of the door. Her expression implored the two leaders to back down. 

At the sudden standoff, Hunk awkwardly tried to cut through the tension. “Yeah; you just startled us, Keith. We’re not mad at you. Please come out.”

Silence.

The paladins looked at each other anxiously, an increasing sense of unease spreading through the brightly lit hallway. 

Trying to break the mood a little, Coran stepped forward. “Come on, team! Keith just needs a little more motivation!” He shook his fist enthusiastically, seeming to forget that Keith couldn’t actually see him through the door.  “Number Four, closing people out isn’t exactly a good team-building strategy!”

Although Matt didn’t exactly know Keith as well as everyone else, even his brows were furrowed in concern.  “Uh…Keith? Please come out.” 

The endless pleas continued for hours, each member of Team Voltron taking turns to try and ‘negotiate’ with the completely unresponsive boy behind the thick metallic door between them. All the while, Lance felt himself wanting to sink further and further into the floor. He felt so guilty, imagining Keith alone in his room having to listen to all of this. There was no way the half-Galran was going to cave – he already saw through deep violet eyes just how terrified Keith was at the thought of letting anyone see him right now. Having to listen to the endless barrage of appeals from his teammates, so desperate to make him show his face…it was almost cruel, in a way.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting.” Allura sighed. Abruptly, she turned to Lance, fixing her eyes sharply onto him. “Do you know why Keith has locked himself in his room?”

The sudden attention caught Lance off guard – how was he supposed to respond to that?

Shiro joined in with the Princess’s grilling. “He was supposed to go back with Kolivan and the other Blades, so why is he here? Did something happen on the mission, Lance?”

“Th–the mission?! Well, um…!” Lance felt more and more eyes drilling into him, probing for answers. A nervous sweat rolled down the back of his neck, and he could feel his broken hand throbbing in perfect sync with his increasing heart rate.

You promised that you wouldn’t tell them. You promised that you’d keep his secret. Lance sighed deeply – he wasn’t about to go back on his word. But he had to tell them something. 

“Could we…move to the common room to talk about it? I’m not sure if Keith would want me to discuss this with everyone, so I’d rather go somewhere that he isn’t able to hear us.” He bit his lip, waiting nervously for a response.

“…Alright then.” Shiro nodded, though his brows were still knit tightly together with concern. “Everyone, let’s move!”

The Black Paladin ushered the rest of the team towards the common area, leaving Lance lingering behind in front of Keith’s door.

He quickly looked around to make sure the hall was indeed empty, before placing a gentle hand on the cold metal door. “…Don’t you leave without saying goodbye this time, okay?” He whispered under his breath. Even if Keith insisted on going back to the Blades…he wanted to see him one more time. Lance didn’t want his final memory of him to be the petrified stare he’d worn as he stepped into the hangar.

--

“…So then, after confirming with Kolivan about the reroute, I carried Keith back to Red. And then we flew back here, basically.” 

“Wait, you carried him back with one hand?” Matt gaped disbelievingly.

“Yeah, and it was not fun.” Lance grimaced.

“Hold on, go back a little bit,” Shiro interrupted, “why was Keith unconscious in the first place?”

“Oh, that! Well, um…” The brunette felt his heart freeze for a second in his chest – he wasn’t good at lying. “After…after Keith took Prozak out, he kinda freaked out a little! I think he fainted from the shock, you know?” Lance thought that maybe telling them half-truths would make it easier for him. Keith did panic after killing Prozak, after all, and he did pass out afterwards; nobody needed to know there was anything else that occurred between those two events.

“Lance, I really must apologise for sending you two on that mission by yourselves.” Allura said solemnly. “If I had known that our intel had even the possibility of being unreliable, I would never have sent you in so underprepared. I am truly sorry for putting the two of you in such great danger.”

“Hey, we survived, didn’t we? It’s all water under the bridge.” Lance shrugged.

“Water…under the…?”

“Ah, it means don’t worry about it!”

“Um, not to derail the conversation,” Hunk interjected, “but I thought the whole point of this was to help us understand why Keith’s locked himself in his room.”

“R-right.” Think, Lance! He had already decided he was going to keep his promise to Keith, that much was certain in his mind. Unfortunately, that meant he now had to come up with another excuse – another reason that Keith wouldn’t want anybody to see him. “Keith is…very sick at the moment!”

Lance felt six pairs of eyes boring into him, a mixture of confusion and concern spread across the team’s faces. He sucked in a nervous breath before continuing.

“He said it’s uh…some kind of Galra illness. So it’s not contagious! But he’s got this…this weird rash right now, and he’s really embarrassed about it.”

“But wait, I thought you said earlier that his skin was blotchy because he was covered in blood?” Pidge raised a skeptical eyebrow in Lance’s direction.

“I–I just! I forgot about the rash, so I thought that’s what you were talking about!”

“How do you just forget about something like that?”

“Ah, but more importantly,” Coran stroked his moustache thoughtfully, “were the Blades aware of his condition? If he’s unwell, we need to make sure he’s received the proper medical care. I’m no Galra expert, but if necessary, I am more than happy to look him over in the med–”

“NO! That’s okay!” Lance shouted a little too forcefully. “Kolivan already gave him some uh…ointment? To…put on the rash? So it should go away on its own eventually! But you know how Keith can be…he doesn’t like people staring at him. He just needs some alone time while he’s getting better. I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare everyone.”

A contemplative silence hung over the room, and Lance thought it sounded more like the quiet tension of a horror movie, right before the killer jumps out from behind. 

When a cold hand suddenly clamped down on Lance’s shoulder, he swore he felt his soul leap out of his body. “Thank you for telling us, Lance.” Shiro’s familiar voice said, his cybernetic arm giving another firm pat. “I know Keith can be…stubborn when it comes to confiding in others, so the fact that he shared this with you must mean that he trusts you a lot.” 

Lance blushed at that – even if he’d stumbled upon Keith’s secret by accident, the other boy had still chosen to be honest with him. It…felt nice.

“Still, he cannot stay in his room forever,” Allura sighed. Lacing her fingers together elegantly, she turned her body towards the Red Paladin. “Lance, would it be acceptable to put you in charge of monitoring Keith’s condition? If nothing else, someone needs to ensure that he is alright – even if he refuses to come out for the time being.”

“Oh uh, yeah! Sure, I can do that!”

“Then it is settled. Please keep us updated on how Keith’s recovery progresses.”

“And if anything seems amiss, don’t hesitate to give us a shout!” Coran chimed in. Leaning closer, he looked down at Lance’s injured hand. “In the meantime, how’s about we see about fixing up that hand of yours?” 

-- 

Unfortunately for Lance, keeping an eye on Keith had turned out to be far easier said than done. For the past three days, he’d stopped by the Blade’s room practically any moment he’d had spare. He’d told Keith that it was just him, and that he just wanted to make sure the other boy was doing okay, but received no response.

He understood why Keith was giving the other paladins the cold-shoulder – didn’t necessarily agree with it, but whatever. What he didn’t understand, however, was why that meant he was now being ignored as well. 

“I’m just…tired of getting such mixed signals from Keith, you know?” Lance huffed to Hunk, helping to pack up the practice targets. He looked at the printed roll in his hands – there wasn’t a single bullet mark on it. Guess they could use that one again next time.

 “Well, he’s probably not really feeling like himself at the moment, you know?” Hunk supplemented, as he dismantled one of the safety barriers. “Maybe instead of trying to talk to him, you should bring him something. Like, something familiar; it might make him feel a bit more ‘normal’.”

Lance paused for a moment, pondering the idea, before his eyes lit up suddenly. “Food! I could bring him something from the kitchen! He probably hasn’t eaten anything proper in days.”

“There you go! Surely even Mr. Grouchy-pants himself couldn’t say no to some good chow.”

“Haha, yeah...” The brunette picked at his cast anxiously. “Um, do you maybe think you could…help me make something? It might be kinda hard with this thing on my hand, and…I want it to be good, you know?”

“Say no more,” Hunk responded, holding up a placating palm. “We’ll make sure it’s the best dang meal Keith’s ever eaten!”

About half an hour later, Lance found himself walking towards the Blade’s quarters, a simple metal tray carried delicately in his left hand. On it was a freshly prepared plate of food goo, though it wasn’t the usual green stuff. Hunk had helped him make a batch of the fancy yellow kind that Allura only let them eat on special occasions – they’d figured what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and frankly, Keith could probably do with the pick-me-up.

Finally reaching the thick steel door that Keith had isolated himself behind, Lance swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. Was this…really going to work?

Geez, what am I getting all worked up about? It’s just Keith. Lance shook himself out of it, shifting the tray to carefully balance against his chest so that he could knock on the door.

THUNK-THUNK!

“Hey Keith, I uh…I brought you something to eat!”

Lance waited for a minute, listening for any signs of movement from inside.

“Keeeiith, it’s just me out here. You can open up!”

…Nothing.

Angrily, Lance kicked the door with his foot. “You can’t just survive on juice pouches forever, you know! Don’t think I don’t know about your secret stash!”

Getting more frustrated, the brunette continued to pound the metal with his foot. He was sick of playing babysitter. He was sick of being ignored. But most of all, he was sick of Keith completely shutting him out – how could he share his problems and not expect Lance to worry? Not expect him to care what happens?

“OPEN! THIS! DOOR!” He punctuated each word with another kick. “STOP! IGNORING! M–!”

Suddenly, the metal door slid open with a sharp whoosh, leaving Lance’s foot swinging at air. As he stumbled, a strong hand reached out and gripped his shirt collar, yanking him hastily inside.

Hearing the entrance behind him slide closed again, Lance lifted his head and locked gazes with a pair of bright lilac eyes. He gasped softly under his breath as the rest of his surroundings came into focus, where he now stood before a boy he barely recognized. 

“Keith…?” He was expecting that the half-Galra might be a little more purple than he was last time they’d seen each other, but this was…definitely more than a little. This was an ‘if I didn’t know you already, I’d assume the pale patches of skin were the abnormality’ amount of purple.

“Don’t say anything.” The other boy snapped, his shoulders hunching defensively under Lance’s dumbfounded stare.

“Ah, no! I–I wasn’t going to!” Lance fumbled, suddenly aware of a strange wetness clinging to his shirt. Looking down, he realized that he’d spilt some of the food goo down his front.

Before he could clean up the mess, however, the tray was suddenly snatched out of his hands. Keith carried the food over to his bed, kneeling on the mattress as he began to eagerly shovel spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. His sharp teeth scraped loudly on the cutlery with each bite. 

Awkwardly, Lance walked over and sat at the end of the bed. He saw Keith jump a little at the shifting weight, before turning his body further away from the paladin. Despite feeling faintly hurt by the action, the brunette patiently waited for him to finish his meal.

As Keith wiped the corners of his lips with his thumb, Lance cleared his throat and slowly began speaking. “Looks like you were hungry, huh?”

Keith glared pointedly over his shoulder.

“Look, I’m…sorry I stared at you when I first came in. I just…wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

“Mm.” Keith mumbled bitterly. “Can’t exactly say I can blame you.”

“Anyway, though! You’ve been completely ignoring me for three whole days now! I get that you’re not gonna come out with everyone else around, but how am I supposed to help you if you lock me out, too?”

“I didn’t ask you to help me? I’m fine by myself in here, so if you’re done bringing me food…”

“Oh no, don’t you even start with that!” Lance crawled around to the other side of the bed, so that he was sitting directly opposite Keith. “You said you were gonna ask Kolivan for more advice anyway, didn’t you? What happened to the cruiser that was supposed to pick you up?”

“It’s…not coming.” Keith’s knuckles tightened, audibly scrunching the bed sheets.

Lance cautiously absorbed the Blade’s reaction to the subject, and chose to not press it any further. Sounds more like Kolivan refused to send it, he surmised. “Then what’re you planning on doing, huh? Sitting in here until you starve to death?”

“I don’t know, Lance!” Keith growled, his voice straining to remain quiet. “I…don’t know, okay? I just…I need more time.”

“…Keith, I know you’re stressed. I know you’re scared. But the longer you put this off, the further along you’re gonna get!”

The half-Galra’s gaze twitched uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

With a sigh, Lance gently placed his thumb against Keith’s cheek. He felt the boy flinch a little beneath him, but he didn’t pull away. “…This was where the purple mark reached the last time I saw you. If it’s spread that far in such a short span of time, it won’t be long until the rest of you becomes purple, too. And your teeth have already fallen out, but you don’t know what else is gonna happen to you!” 

Unexpectedly, the brunette felt a strange warmth slither down the thumb still pressed onto Keith’s smooth skin. It was then, at the sensation of tears, that Lance was able to properly, finally take in the sight of the boy in front of him. He realized that every single part of Keith looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the skin of his arms were littered with scratches – definitely fresh, after the effects of the quintessence. Smoothing his thumb further down Keith’s cheeks, he could easily feel the gauntness of bone.

“…Please, Keith. Let me help you.”

The Blade’s body trembled beneath Lance’s hand. “I c–can’t, Lance…I’m not ready. Just…” He reached out to where the Red Paladin’s hand still rested against his face, and held it softly. “…Just give me one more week. I need another week.” 

Every part of Lance knew that this was a bad idea. Keith would only get worse in a week, and each passing day would just cause his transformation to progress further. Despite this, he couldn’t stop his lips from whispering “…Okay.”

The brunette was startled by the two arms that wrapped themselves tightly around him, pulling him closer to the other boy’s chest. A fierce warmth burned on his cheeks.

“Thank you, Lance…” Keith’s muffled voice vibrated against the brunette’s shoulder.

“W–whoa there! Before you get too happy, there’s a condition!”

Lifting his face, the Blade narrowed his eyes warily. “Condition?”

“Yes! You have to let me keep checking on you in the meantime! No locking me out anymore, okay?”

“Ugh, I guess that’s reasonable.” Keith pouted. “…That means you can bring me food too though, right?” 

“I guess I can do that,” Lance complained, “but you definitely owe me big time for this!”

Keith chuckled lightly, sniffing back the last of his tears.

After that, the two settled into more pleasant conversation. Unsurprisingly, Keith had been going stir-crazy in his room without anything to do, so he was more than happy to listen to Lance talk about what everyone had been up to for the past few days. 

“…So then Matt was like ‘bet you can’t solve this scrambled alien transmission before me, Pidgeon’, and Pidge was all ‘you’re on!’. Then, like two days later – I don’t even think she’d slept the entire time – Pidge was like ‘ha! I’ve cracked it, everyone come and listen!’. And she played it, at full volume, and it was just Matt blowing a raspberry. She. Was. FUMING.” 

“Oh my goddddd,” Keith laughed, “Matt sounds like a pretty funny guy.”

“Yeah, he’s great. You should definitely meet him properly, once you’re out and about again.”

“I’d like to.” The half-Galra’s voice started to trail off, his eyes wandering down to Lance’s cast. “Does…does it hurt?”

“What, my hand? Nah, it’s fine now, more inconvenient than anything else. Coran put it inside this weird machine – it was horrible; you could hear the bones shifting. But now I just have to keep this cast on it until the bones have grown back together, and I’ll be all good!”

“I’m glad.” A light blush dusted Keith’s cheeks, and he shifted uncomfortably on his knees.

“…Hey, why are you sitting like that, anyway?”

“Sitting like what?”

“Like you’re kneeling on the bed?” Lance gestured towards the other boy’s lap.

“Oh, yeah. I don’t know what I did, but my tailbone’s been killing me lately. I think I might’ve fallen on it when I was training yesterday?”

“Is that what you’ve been doing in here? In this teeny-tiny room?”

“Well, what else do you expect me to do? Sleep for seventy-two hours straight?” Keith slid off of the bed, stretching forward and reaching for his toes.

Now that he had changed into one of his old black t-shirts, Lance could see the sliver of purple skin that became exposed as Keith arched his back. The brunette couldn’t control the way that his eyes traced every angle and curve of the other boy’s tall, muscular figure. Since joining the Blades, Keith had definitely become much more…toned. Following down his spine again, Lance noticed a darker-coloured bloom just above his tailbone. It looked pretty sore.

“You know…” Lance began, trying to ignore the heat rising to his own face, “the purple skin…doesn’t look half-bad on you.”

“…Excuse me?” Keith jerked upright, head whipping around to face the Red Paladin.

“I just mean! I dunno, it…looks kinda nice! Like, it’d be terrible on me, but on you? It sort of suits you somehow, I guess?”

“You just…don’t get it, do you, Lance?” Keith seethed, his fists balling up at his sides again. Lance noticed tiny red droplets pearling at the corners – his nails had managed to draw blood. “I can’t stand the way I look right now. Every morning it gets harder and harder to look in the mirror and see how much more Galran I’ve become! I can’t control it; I don’t get to decide that I don’t like being purple – and I don’t! I hate it! So why would you even say something like that to me?!”

“Keith no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then what the fuck did you mean, huh?!”

“I just meant that…that I think you look p–pretty!”

…Wait. Did he really just say that out loud?

An ominous silence loomed over the room. Lance swallowed thickly, nervously studying the other boy’s indecipherable expression.

“…Get out.” Keith muttered under his breath. He then repeated it, louder this time. “GET OUT.”

Lance skittishly leapt off of the bed and padded his way over to the bedroom door. Turning gingerly back to Keith, he stuttered out “I’m–I’m sor–”

“NOW.” The half-Galra prickled, the whites of his eyes drawn wide with anger.

Abandoning his hesitation, Lance slid the large steel door open and left the room. As he listened to it close behind him, the brunette pressed his back against the metal and let himself sink to the floor. He curled his knees up beneath his chin and hugged them, burying his face in his own lap. 

Lance felt utterly sick – he could taste bile at the back of his throat. His lips contorted, letting a pitiful sob escape past them. Quietly there, he wept alone – huddled in front of the door of the boy he’d fallen for.

Chapter Text

Keith’s mind swirled with a tempest of emotions. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand.

His fists clenched and unclenched, and his arms jerked up and down as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Keith bit his lip sharply – he wanted to scream. His entire body was shaken and confused by those five stupid little words.

I think you look p-pretty!

Lance’s flustered voice still echoed inside of Keith’s head. He’d been so overwhelmed at the time that he’d kicked the other boy out…and now he was alone again. God, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted anymore. He liked talking to Lance – he wasn’t sure why, but their conversations of late made him feel a certain something that wasn’t quite there before. He couldn’t put his finger on it. But then Lance kept going and saying things that just made him more confused about everything; about himself.

Running a frustrated hand through the thick hair creeping down his neck, Keith trudged over to the bathroom mirror. He glowered at his reflection, as if somehow hoping he’d be able to see whatever it was that Lance thought he could see. Unfortunately, it was still the same unsightly, mottled face he’d become used to over the past few weeks. He lifted his bangs, turning his head this way and that to examine the strange spots and smears of purple spattered around the edges of his hairline.

“How could he think anything about this was ‘pretty’?” Keith scoffed, brushing his fringe back over his eyes. He brought his fingers down to his cheeks and pulled at the skin there, watching the way that the colours stretched and squished with it. Pinching a little too hard, a thin red line suddenly beaded up beneath his eye.

Keith winced a little at the faint sting and stared down accusingly at the offending fingernail. They were definitely getting sharper – the tiny cuts and nicks that littered his arms right now were further proof of that.

Reaching into the drawer below the basin, Keith pulled out a pair of nail clippers. With each snip, he pretended he was washing another one of his troubles down the drain.

Tink!

The ugly shade of lavender that was creeping across his body.

Tink!

The dull throb of his tailbone that kept him from sitting down properly.

Tink!

The uncomfortable tightness in his chest every time he thought about those five damn words.

Tink!

…Or just when he thought about Lance at all, really.

The next morning, Keith honestly wasn’t expecting a knock at his door again. Quite frankly, he’d assumed that his unintended outburst would’ve scared Lance off. Yet, there he was, rapping gently against the solid wall of steel between them.

“…Keith, you awake in there? I, um…I brought you some breakfast.”

Keith rose from the floor, having been in the middle of his usual morning exercise routine – minus the sit-ups, since those were too uncomfortable right now – and padded over to the door panel. He pressed the ‘open’ command, and leaned behind the doorframe discreetly.

He watched the brunette warily pace into the room, stopping just shy of the doorframe’s edge. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly in uncertainty. “Keith? Where are you?”

“Just get inside!” He hissed, lifting himself from the wall to beckon vehemently at the other boy. As soon as Lance cleared the entrance, Keith hurriedly shut the door at his heels.

“Geez, you trying to take my foot off or something?” He turned to face the half-Galra but avoided making eye contact, shifting the tray of food nervously in his hands. “Why’re you hiding behind the wall like that, anyway?” 

“Because!” Keith raised his arms exasperatedly. “What if someone’s walking behind you in the hallway and they see me? Standing out in the open like that completely goes against the whole ‘laying low’ thing.”

“Well…what about if you gave me your door code, then? That way you don’t have to get up and let me in all the time.”

“…I guess that might be easier.” Keith conceded, though he admittedly wasn’t too fond of the idea of sharing his passcode with someone else. It would mean that Lance would be able to come in whenever he wanted, even though he supposed there wasn’t any real reason to keep him out – he’d already seen Keith at his worst.

Gingerly stepping into the bedroom, Lance placed the tray of food goo on Keith’s bedside table and stood awkwardly next to the bed. He looked as though he was waiting for permission.

“You…can sit down if you want?” Keith said carefully, watching the brunette nod and take a seat towards the foot of the mattress. It seemed as though the other boy was walking on eggshells around him today – or, more specifically, dancing around a certain topic that Keith didn’t really feel like touching either. 

He looked down at the dish Lance had brought with him, placing it in his lap as he carefully tucked one leg under himself and sat on the bed as well. He felt the other boy scoot a few inches further away as the mattress dipped.

“Sorry it’s only the green kind today,” Lance hummed, still dodging Keith’s gaze. “I was kinda scared of what Allura would do if she caught me stealing more of the yellow goo.”

“It is good goo,” Keith joked. “But it’s fine. When you live in the desert for most of your life, you learn not to be very fussy when it comes to food.” He picked up the spoon, scooping up a chunk of the green mound and sucking it past his lips.

Listening to Keith’s unrefined slurps, Lance finally looked over to the other boy, and couldn’t control the small chuckle that escaped him. Somehow, it was helping to lift a little of the tension between them.

“Um, anyway, you should tell me your room code already so I can write it down.” Lance pulled a marker from his back pocket, using his teeth to uncap it. The tip hovered patiently above the underside of his arm, just past where his sleeve would normally cover it. 

“Okay, it’s 0-1-2-5-2-0.” Keith’s eyes followed the pen as it messily scrawled the numbers down Lance’s tanned wrist, stopping just before the edge of his cast. From the barely-legible handwriting, it was probably safe to assume that Lance wasn’t ambidextrous.

“Heh, this is a pretty obvious pattern,” Lance smirked knowingly. “Let me guess…it’s your birthday, right?”

Keith shook his head. “It was my dad’s, actually.”

The brunette’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even mean–urghhh.”

“Dude, it’s okay!” Keith smiled softly, shaking his head. “It…happened a long time ago.” 

“…What was he like?” Lance whispered cautiously. “Your dad, I mean. He must still be pretty important to you, if you’re using his birthday as a passcode and everything.”

“Yeah, he was…a really good dad. Even though we didn’t really have much money, or a nice house, he was always looking out for me.” Keith twirled his spoon through his food wistfully. “There weren’t any schools near us growing up, so he taught me pretty much everything I knew until I got accepted at the Garrison. Shiro lived with his mum, so we didn’t see each other much until then. But my dad was, like, my whole world as a kid. He used to take me exploring in some of the caves around the desert, and tell me all of these incredible stories about the people who once lived there – lot of alien stories, too. He was always talking about all the things that were happening out there, right above our heads.”

“Hah, imagine what he’d think if he could see you now.”

“Yeah…” Keith grinned warmly, stroking the edge of his bowl with his thumb.

“But wow, I never really thought you were much of a…um…”

“Family person?”

“Y-yeah, something like that.” Lance replied sheepishly.

“I mean…I guess it’s a touchy subject for me sometimes? It’s nice now, having Shiro back, but there’s been a lot of times where I haven’t really had anybody. It makes it harder for me to…let myself get too attached to people.”

Lance nodded, listening intently. Keith wasn’t even really sure why he was telling him all of this. Something about the other boy just made him feel…lighter. As if the constant weight on his shoulders had lifted, just a bit.

“You know…my dad and I used to play this card game together all the time. What was it called…” Keith snapped his fingers together, searching for the right word. “Bullshit!”

“Your dad…taught you a card game called ‘bullshit’? And how old where you when this happened, exactly?” Lance laughed in disbelief. “Honestly, that explains so much about that rotten mouth of yours.” 

“Oh, fuck off!” Keith smirked, smacking the brunette lightly on the arm. He noticed that the other boy didn’t flinch away. “Anyway, I think I’ve still got an old pack of cards in my drawer. You wanna play?” 

“That depends, are you ready to have your butt whooped?” Lance sneered, shooting a finger-gun in Keith’s direction.

“Don’t say that; my butt’s sore enough as it is, without any added whoopings!”

Keith slid off the bed and rummaged through his dresser, searching for the old deck he remembered leaving inside it somewhere. It was calming, talking like this with Lance again. The other boy made it so easy for him to let his guard slip, just a little, and forget about everything else for a while – forget about the whole half-Galra thing. Forget about the war. And even forget that yesterday happened at all. 

It was already the afternoon by the time Lance finally decided he’d better head off and see what everyone else was up to today, though Keith felt as if barely any time had passed at all. It was a bit sad to see the brunette go, but the fuzzy feeling in his chest still seemed to linger long after he’d left.

After he’d packed up the playing cards, tucking them into his bedside drawer in case they felt like playing tomorrow, he headed to the bathroom. His nails were looking a little sharp again, so he needed to give them another trim. As Keith stood at the basin, however, he managed to catch his own gaze in the mirror in front of him. He barely recognized himself, and it wasn’t because of the typical purple blotches, either. Rather, it was the dopey grin that he was still wearing after hanging out with Lance all day.

Tink!

The dorky way that he smiles after spending time with Lance.

The Red Paladin kept coming by his room every day after that. If the rest of Team Voltron had been questioning Lance about the regular visits, he never mentioned it. Keith even wondered whether or not he’d told them about their one-week agreement, though he supposed it didn’t really matter to him either way, so long as they were respecting it.

He’d come to look forward to the knock on his door every morning, though he’d never actually admit it. Despite having given Lance his door code, the other boy still always gave a few gentle taps before coming in. He’d even started bringing an extra bowl of food goo with him since yesterday, ‘so you don’t have to wait for me to finish breakfast before I bring you yours!’ – so he claimed. Keith would be lying if he said the company wasn’t wanted. It got pretty boring by himself in there, even if it was a self-inflicted choice.

“Okay, most important question of your life,” Lance garbled, his spoon poking out at the side of his mouth. “If you could be any animal, what would you be, and why?”

“Are you serious? That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever heard.” Keith deadpanned, using his own spoon to scratch his temple. “…Is it Earth animals only, or are we including space animals?”

Lance beamed at the participation. “Let’s just keep it simple – Earth only.”

“Hmm, okay. Then I’m gonna say…a lion.”

“…Really?”

“Wh–oh, come on! It’s not a Voltron thing!” Keith huffed. “First of all, lions are on the top of the food chain, so that means they don’t have any natural predators. They have claws and teeth to defend themselves, and they’re super-strong. Also I dunno, cats are pretty cool I guess? So yeah, I’d pick a lion.”

“Fierce and dangerous, a very Keith choice.” Lance tutted, his mouth curling up cheekily at the edges.

“Oh yeah? What would you pick, then?”

“Me? Definitely a shark.”

“Are you serious?” Keith narrowed his eyes incredulously. “You make fun of me for picking something deadly, and then you go with a shark?”

“But that’s just it! Sharks are completely misunderstood creatures – they don’t actively attack people, except maybe if you’re in their territory. They only bite because they’re curious of us, not because they want to eat us!” Lance became increasingly fired up as he kept talking. “Sharks only kill maybe a few dozen people every year, but we’re out there killing them by the thousands! It’s disgusting – they’re so cool and majestic and we’re just out there slaughtering their entire species. Like, did you know there are over four hundred different kinds of sharks? And none of them have bones! Or scales! They’re covered in tiny enamel disks; like the stuff our teeth are made of. Isn’t that crazy?”

 “I wasn’t aware you…cared about sharks this much?” Keith gawked, a little overwhelmed by Lance’s tirade.

“Well, my big sister is actually a marine biologist, and she does a lot of work with them back home. We used to go out in a fishing boat to observe some of the colonies off the Varadero coastline. It was really awesome.” He sighed longingly. “I really miss going to the beach. And spending time with my family.”

“Yeah…must be hard to worry about people back home.”

Lance paused, considering the other boy for a moment. “…When we make it back to Earth, you should come and visit them with me.”

“Huh?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, totally! I could show you around the beach, take you sightseeing, the whole package! We’ve got plenty of room for you to stay over, now that most of my siblings have moved out. And that way, you’d get to try my mum’s uh-mazing cooking.”

“I dunno, Lance…”

“Nope, too late, I’ve already written it in my mental calendar. It’s happening now.” 

Unexpectedly, the brunette shot up from the bed. Keith’s knees wobbled beneath him at the sudden shift of the mattress. 

“Crap! I just remembered I told Hunk I’d help him in the kitchen tonight!” Lance jogged over to the door, sticking his head back through the doorframe on his way out. A halo of light shone around him from the low-lit hallway, indicating just how late it already was. “I’m so sorry! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Keith didn’t even have time to respond before the door slid shut again. He let out a loud sigh and slumped forward, pressing his face into the duvet.

Why would say something like that, and then just leave? Keith’s fingers curled beneath him in frustration. He and Lance had only recently become closer, and yet the other boy was already inviting him over and planning their entire trip itinerary. Not that Keith could even go, looking the way that he did – he assumed that thought didn’t even register in Lance’s head, since he was getting so used to looking at him like this.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his chest swelled or his cheeks burned whenever they spent time together lately. It was…strange. Unfamiliar. Like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

Keith’s gaze slowly wandered over to the corner of his room, where his Blade suit sat in a crumpled ball from a few days ago. Underneath it, he spied something peculiar peeking out – it was a single, khaki-coloured sleeve.  Lifting himself up from the bed, he strolled over to the clothing heap and tossed his bodysuit off to one side. It made sense for the object in question to be here, although he’d somehow completely forgotten that he still had it; what with all of the chaos surrounding their return to the Castleship.

Lance’s jacket, slightly crusted with old blood, was currently laid out messily on his bedroom floor.

Keith bent down and picked it up, rubbing the soft fabric gently between his fingertips. He stared at it blankly, imagining its usual wearer wrapped up inside as he normally would be. Before Keith knew it, he had somehow put Lance’s jacket on.

What am I doing? Keith’s mind buzzed, as he pulled the hood over his head. The fragrance of cucumber and mint swirled dreamily around him.

Keith walked blankly back to the bed, flopping down onto the mattress – immediately, however, he regretted the decision, as a bolt of pain shot up the base of his spine.

The half-Galran tenderly rolled himself onto his stomach, bending inwards a little as he waited for the soreness to subside. He didn’t want to admit how comforting it felt to hug Lance’s jacket just a bit tighter throughout it. To smell his scent just a bit closer. To feel him just a bit more against his skin.

What was he doing? Keith didn’t feel like he was in control of his own actions right now; it was as though his body was doing whatever the hell it wanted. Was this…what he wanted? He clenched his knuckles tighter around his own arms. Underneath his constricting grip, however, Keith heard an unexpected ripping sound.

“…Shit.”

One of his fingernails had snagged itself on the sleeve of Lance’s jacket, and he’d managed to tear the entire side of it clean open. His fingers dangled limply out the other side of the gaping hole.

“Fucking excellent.” Keith grunted, hoisting himself up from the bed again to remove the damaged garment. He held the tear in front of his face to inspect it more closely – yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to be an easy patch up. Lance was probably going to kill him for this.

Scrunching the jacket up in his hands, Keith shoved it hastily into his dresser for the time being. Out of sight, out of mind, he reassured himself. He then plodded over to the bathroom, and angrily yanked open the basin drawer. Trimming his nails was really starting to get old fast.

Tink!

His body acting in ways that he didn’t want it to.

The next morning, the ship was abnormally cold. Weirdly enough, Keith didn’t find himself too bothered by it, even though he could see his own breath right now. He wondered if his body temperature had been somehow affected by the transformation as well, though he wasn’t in the mood to dwell on the idea.

Thunk-thunk-thunk!

“Hey K-K-Keith, you awake?”

“Yeah, come in.” He responded – he could already hear Lance shivering from the other side of the door.

As the brunette shuffled inside, Keith’s eyes were drawn to the unusual object in his hands. Rather than the normal trays of food goo, Lance was carrying…a cake?

“Surprise!” The Red Paladin thrust the cake towards him – the words ‘get well soon’ were squiggled across it in bright red icing.

“Oh uh…thanks?” Keith didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not from me, it’s from the whole team! I may have told them you were sick to cover your ass – you’re welcome, by the way – and they all felt bad that they couldn’t really do anything for you so…yeah! We all made a cake for you last night together!”

Keith took the serving tray from Lance, looking closer at the frosted cake decorations as he headed over to their usual spot on the bed. He guessed from the inconsistent craftsmanship that everyone really did pitch in with making it. “Is that why you said you had to help Hunk in the kitchen last night then?”

“Oh yeah, I’m glad you didn’t figure it out!” Lance grinned sheepishly.

Keith gave a gentle nod. “It’s…nice. Tell everyone I said thank you.” His hand lingered above the knife to the side of the serving tray, momentarily pondering the rest of the team.

The fact that they were worried about him should have been sweet, but it honestly only made him feel nervous. He’d told Lance to give him a week, but he didn’t feel any less petrified at the idea of seeing everyone as he was right now. He was still purple. He still had sharp teeth. He was still way taller than normal. Nothing was getting better, he knew that, but still…

“Yeah, of course! Now come on, you gonna cut it up or what?” Lance nudged Keith lightly with his ice-cold elbow, snapping the other boy back into focus.

“Oh, right.” He picked up the sharp utensil and sliced off what he considered a normal-sized piece. “Here, you have this one.”

“Why, how gentlemanly of you!” Lance winked cheekily, taking the wedge of cake between his fingers and using his other hand as a crumb-catcher.

“Don’t make me take it back,” Keith deadpanned, cutting off his own slice. He placed the knife back on the serving tray and lifted the gooey, crumbling dessert to his mouth, inhaling the overwhelming scent of vanilla as his sharp incisors dug into the bread.

Immediately, the taste of rich, thick cream overwhelmed his mouth – it was sickeningly sweet. Running his tongue over them, Keith could almost taste the grit of sugar coating his teeth. He took another large bite, savoring the saccharine flavours swirling over his taste buds, and then another. And another. Soon he’d managed to polish off the entire piece.

“Geez, that was fast,” Lance gulped, swallowing his second mouthful of cake.

“It was really good,” Keith shrugged. “I…think I’m gonna have another.” Keith haphazardly carved off another wedge, a little larger this time, before wolfing it down even faster than the last one. It was only after he’d started eating that he’d become aware of just how famished he was. Without even realizing, the cake had been reduced to nothing but a few meagre, beige-coloured crumbs.

Lance gawked at him, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the empty plate. “I mean–wow. Just, wow.”

“I…guess I was pretty hungry?” Keith reddened in embarrassment, using his thumb to wipe a small dollop of cream from his cheek.

“Hey, don’t worry about it!” The brunette puffed up his chest proudly. “I consider it a testament to everyone’s delicious cooking!”

“Hah, sure.” Keith smirked, rolling his eyes. Despite his outward recovery, his hand drifted to his stomach and rubbed it anxiously. He’d finished that entire cake off like it was nothing, and he wasn’t normally an overeater. In fact, he couldn’t say he felt any more than satiated.

In the moment of silence, a soft chattering noise brought Keith’s attention back again. Was it…coming from Lance? Inspecting the other boy’s jawline a little more closely, the half-Galra could see it trembling softly.

“You look really cold.”

“Are you not?” Lance quirked his head to one side, rubbing his hands over his biceps vigorously to try and create some warmth. “Allura said we’re passing through the Gatria System at the moment, but the temperatures outside are apparently so low that they’re messing with the ship’s thermal regulators. Coran and Matt have been looking into the repairs all morning, but I’m guessing they still haven’t worked it out. You’re lucky in here though; the hallway is so much worse.”

Keith felt a pang of guilt in the back of his mind – after all, it was his fault that Lance was stuck braving the icy temperatures in nothing but a thin jersey. He’d normally be happy to return the other boy’s jacket, but he hadn’t forgotten about the enormous hole he’d torn out of it last night. Even if he offered the garment back anyway, Keith couldn’t imagine what excuse he’d possibly give to explain away how the damage had happened in the first place. I was snuggling into your jacket so tight that I ripped it, sorry! – yeah, right. As if he was ever going to own up to that. Then again, maybe there was still something else he could do.

“Do you want to borrow my jacket?”

“…Huh?” Lance’s eyes bugged out at the question.

“You’re freezing your ass off, right? I’ll get it.” Without leaving any time for objections, Keith lifted himself up and slid open his wardrobe door. His favourite red coat was still hanging on the hook at the front, right where he’d left it a few months ago.

Grabbing it by the handful, the half-Galra flung the jacket towards the bed. Lance held his arms up defensively, managing to block the garment from hitting him square in the face.

“Geez, that throw sucked.” He pouted, picking up the red fabric to examine more closely. “Are you sure you want to give this to me, though?”

“It’s fine,” Keith said plainly, walking back to the bed and flopping down onto his stomach. “To be honest, it…doesn’t actually fit me anymore.”

“Oh, right.” Lance nodded awkwardly. He reached around and pulled his arms through the sleeves, having a little trouble with the right one as it snagged over his cast. The brunette then patted the fabric down over his chest, looking down at the way it sat on him. He curled his lip indecisively. 

“…What’s wrong?”

“It…looks really hideous on me. Red is just really not my colour, you know?”

Keith raised an eyebrow, propping his elbows up beneath him. “You…don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to? I can lend you the blanket off my bed inste–”

“No! It’s fine, I’ll wear it!” Lance spat out quickly. A dark blush had started to creep up his neck.

“Um…okay?”

“It’s easier than a blanket, it’s fine! It doesn’t matter how it looks if I’m just here with you anyway!” The brunette backpedalled further with each statement.

Despite the odd reaction, Keith didn’t really feel like pressing any further, so he hummed acceptingly instead.

Seemingly relieved at that, Lance let out a long sigh. “You know…I didn’t really mention it before, but it–” He paused, scratching anxiously at the back of his head. “–it wasn’t a coincidence that we ended up on the Proxima mission together.”

“What do you mean?” Keith replied warily. He wasn’t really sure why this was being brought up out of the blue.

“I mean that I…maybe kinda asked to be on it.  Like, because I knew that you were gonna be on it.” Lance picked at his cast nervously. “Not in a weird way or anything though! I just…” He let out a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter closed. “…I missed talking to you. With you off with the Blades, it just wasn’t the same around here. And you barely returned any of our com messages, so it wasn’t like we could just keep in touch!” 

“Yeah, um…I guess I was pretty flaky.” He didn’t exactly want to apologise for that, but he understood where Lance was coming from. Even though he didn’t have to hide his appearance from the other boy anymore, he still felt there was so much he didn’t understand about their relationship. It was as if every time Lance said something, there were seven other things he wasn’t saying. And Keith himself felt like he was keeping secrets, but even he wasn’t sure what they were. It was like the words were on the tip of his tongue, never quite forming coherent sentences.

…Actually, there was just one.

“Uh…I know this is kind of random, but I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Lance’s eyes flickered open again, attentively looking down to make contact with Keith’s.

“What did you mean by what you said the other day? You know…” The Blade swallowed thickly, shifting his lower back in discomfort. “…When you said that I was…pretty?”

For a moment, Lance froze. Keith could swear if he’d listened closely enough, he probably would have heard the brunette’s heartbeat stop entirely. The other boy’s mouth flapped open and closed for a few more seconds, grappling with the words that refused to come out.

“W-well! I mean! You’re…an attractive guy! I just…I meant that even if you’re purple, you’re still kinda p-pretty. Like, objectively!” Lance’s face had bloomed to an impressive shade of scarlet, and his hands seemed to be moving independently of their owner, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “It’s not like I think you’re…pretty or anything, more like…uh, you know…like the girls back home would be all over you!” 

“I’m…not really interested in girls.” Keith said simply.

“O-oh, okay! That’s…that’s cool!” The Red Paladin stammered, jerking up from the mattress suddenly. “You know, I actually just remembered! I told Hunk I would help him in the kitchen tonight!”

Keith scowled in confusion. “What? Isn’t that what you said yesterday? And it’s only like 2 o’clock.”

“Oh! Yes! I mean, no! I mean, I have to go!” Before the half-Galra could get another word in, Lance had already bolted for the bedroom door.

“Hey, wait a min–GHK!” Keith tried to get off the bed and run after the other boy, but was interrupted by a violent spasm in his tailbone. He doubled over in agony, only barely hearing the door slide closed over his own pulse ringing in his ears.

The Blade grit his teeth, sucking in sharp breaths as he waited for the pain to ease. His sweat clung to his brow, causing his hair to stick messily across his face.

It’s not subsiding at all, he grunted to himself. What the hell was going on with him? He needed to have a look in the mirror.

With shaky hands, Keith pulled himself up from the floor and dragged himself across it. He used his arms to tug himself forward, leaving his legs to trail like dead weight behind him. The throbbing at the base of his spine was so intense that all he could feel below it was a numb tingling sensation.

After about two minutes had passed, Keith managed to make it to the bathroom. Using the side of the bath as leverage, he yanked himself up against the sink. A weak groan wheezed its way past his lips at the motion. He held the basin for support and eased himself onto the soles of his feet – the pins-and-needles feeling persisted, but they managed to take the rest of his weight. 

Gingerly, Keith reached down to the hem of his shirt, peeling back the sweat-soaked layer to expose his purple-tinged midriff. He twisted himself slowly to one side, cringing with the gentle rotation, and hitched the clothing item the rest of the way up. His nails snagged a thread on their way past, and he ignored the tearing sound as he threw the fabric down onto the tiles.

Without his shirt to conceal it, the source of his pain was obvious. A dark, engorged lump swelled out from Keith’s lower back, the skin there bruised and misshapen by something beneath the surface. He brushed it delicately with his finger, feeling a definite bone-like hardness.

“What the fuck…” He grimaced. His breath was coming out in shaky pants again, the familiar terror bubbling up and coiling around his lungs. He needed to get a grip – with quivering hands, he tugged the bathroom drawer open and pulled out his nail clippers.

He was in control.

Tink!

This was his body.

Tink!

Nothing could take that away from him.

Ti–i–i–PLIK!

Creaking from the strain, the clippers in Keith’s hand suddenly snapped into pieces. Tiny metal parts bounced across the room in all directions, eventually rattling softly as they settled on the hard floor. 

Eyes wide in distress, the half-Galra brought his fingers up to his face. The nails were pointed and thick, like the claws of an animal. There was clearly no way he could slice through them normally now.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Keith dropped to the floor and pressed his forehead into the cold tiles. His lips contorted, sucking in a painful sob.

He wasn’t in control at all.

Keith kneeled on the floor, hugging into himself as tightly as possible. He rode out the pain, groaning into his knees with each aching throb of his spine, until he eventually passed out for the night.

Chapter Text

–nk-thunk.

“Hey Keith, you up yet?”

The half-Galra’s eyes blearily flickered open. Tilting his head gently, he winced and let out a groan against the bathroom tiles – his entire body was on fire.

“…Keith? Helloooo?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a weak rasp. His throat felt as if he’d swallowed broken glass the night before.

“I…I’m coming in!” Lance stammered urgently, before Keith heard the whoosh of his bedroom door sliding open. The thumps of approaching footsteps rattled the floor beneath him and reverberated right through his skull – he creased his brow tightly at the blossoming migraine.

Hearing a sharp inhale from above, Keith felt cold hands press urgently against his shoulder. “Oh my god…Keith, can you hear me? What’s wrong?”

He moaned, still unable to form words, and dragged his pupils up to meet Lance’s. The Paladin’s face was white with terror, his mouth scrunched into a worried frown and his eyes blown wide and watery.

“Sh–show me where it hurts. Can you point?”

Keith pulled his left arm out from where it was tucked beneath his chest, feeling the stiffness from having slept on it all night. He rolled off his side and gestured at the source of the pain coursing through his body, down at the base of his spine.

Carefully, Lance leaned forward to take a look at Keith’s tailbone on full display. A raw, discolored bulge of flesh stuck out from the centre of his waist, with dozens of dark, spidery veins sprawling out around it. Beneath the lump was something hard and pointed, pushing up through the skin so sharply that Lance was amazed it hadn’t split open – like a thin needle poking at a balloon.

“…Keith, you…you need to go to the med bay.” The brunette whispered, biting back the crack of his voice.

“No.” He croaked forcefully. “I’m…I’m fine. I fell asleep on the bathroom floor – that’s why I’m so sore.” Keith reached his hand back again to swat away Lance’s focus. “I don’t need anyone to look at me.”

“Are you kidding me?! Your back looks like it’s about to tear itself clean open! This isn’t ‘oh my skin’s looking a little purple’ bad! It’s ‘my bones are trying to stab through my skin’ bad!” Lance was shaking now, staring down at the other boy with equal parts frustration and panic.

“I know, Lance! It’s my fucking body!” Keith pinched his forehead, immediately regretting raising his voice. “…I know it’s…bad, okay?”

“Then why are you making excuses?” Lance huffed. “You promised we’d get things checked out after a week, and you know that’s tomorrow anyway.”

“Well, I was planning on stalling if I could! I didn’t exactly expect…this to happen.”

With a long sigh, the other boy’s shoulders sagged. He lifted himself off his knees and leaned back into a crouching position, extending his left hand forward. “Look, maybe we should just–uh…can you stand?” 

“Pfft, good question.” Keith replied cynically. Making an attempt anyway, he moved his arms slowly beneath himself and pushed against the tiled floor. Luckily, the pain didn’t quite reach his shoulders, and he managed to heave himself into a hunched squat. Well, it was a start. Keith gingerly leaned back, hissing between clenched teeth as his muscles spasmed in protest. He latched his hands around Lance’s arm for leverage and let out a grunt as he felt himself hoisted the rest of the way up. His body stooped over Lance’s shoulder, desperate for support as he sucked in ragged breaths.

“God, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…give me a sec.” Keith cautiously pushed his weight back onto his own feet, keeping his hands ghosted over Lance’s shoulders in case he lost his balance.

“Well…let’s try walking over there next, alright?” the brunette tipped his head towards the center of the bedroom, still nervously holding out both of his arms to stabilize Keith.

The Blade nodded with fake-confidence, though a prickle of pain made his eye twitch. The numbness in his legs from last night persisted, and Keith swore there was a tangible delay between his brainwaves and the stride that he extended himself forward with. His right foot slapped loudly against the ceramic surface below, and he felt his knee tremble as he advanced with his next step.

Nice and steady, he thought to himself, continuing his measured pace; don’t rush it. God, he felt unbelievably pathetic right now. The strain that sparked up his nerves each time he planted his foot on the ground made him feel like he was being torn in half, but he didn’t want Lance to see him like that – broken. Vulnerable. Weak.

Halfway across the room, his ankle rolled slightly under his weight. “Ow fuck OW–!” Arching his back to prevent himself from falling, Keith felt red-hot daggers shoot up his spine. Legs going limp beneath him, the only thing that stopped the half-Galra from hitting the floor were two lithe arms wrapping securely around his chest. 

“Ohmygod you’re heavy.” Lance wheezed, hugging him firmly. “Let’s just…ugh…make it to the bed!”

Digging his sharp fingernails into Lance’s shirt, Keith gripped the brunette tightly as he was dragged and practically dropped onto his mattress. He was thankful that he landed on his front, but still felt his bones throb at the impact. 

“Man, you’re…like a giant sandbag…you know that?” Lance complained between pants.

“…Sorry.” Keith puffed, equally exhausted.

The room was quiet for a few minutes, save for the steady gasps of air coming from both boys. After finally catching his breath, Lance piped up again. “…So yeah, we are so not trying that a second time. I’m gonna go get Shiro to help me carry you to the med bay.”

“Nope, no way!” Having regained a little of his energy himself, Keith curled up his legs from where they were dangling over the side of the bed, switching to a more upright kneeling position. “That’s absolutely not happening.”

“What, why? I mean, I could get Hunk instead if that makes you feel more comf–”

“No, not ‘no way’ as in ‘not Shiro’ – ‘no way’ as in ‘nobody’s gonna fucking carry me’.”

“Well you can barely walk, so I have no idea how else you plan to get to the other side of the Castleship!”

Keith crossed his arms against his chest. “Get Coran to come to me, then! I don’t know!” 

“We can’t just bring all of the medical equipment to you, Keith!” Lance threw his hands up exasperatedly. “It’s all highly advanced stuff that’s bolted to the god damn floor!”

“Then let me–! Let me…lean on you or something.” The half-Galran squeezed his arms anxiously. “I don’t…want anyone to be there that doesn’t have to be.”

Coran had to be there to perform the actual examination. Lance had to be there for…support. But anyone else could stay far, far away for all Keith was concerned.

Lance knitted his eyebrows together with worry. “You…do realise that you can’t put this off forever, right?”

The Blade averted his eyes.

“Like, I get that you’re worried everyone’s gonna treat you differently, just because you’re purple or whatever. But I’m telling you that I know for a fact that they won’t. I mean, things between us are still good, right? Still the same old Keithy-Lancey?” 

“…More or less?” Keith mumbled. He certainly wasn’t about to confess the new, slightly ambiguous feelings he’d been having lately.

“Exactly! So can’t you have a bit more faith in everyone else, too? I mean, I’m not gonna lie and say they won’t be a little…surprised, but at the end of the day, we’re a team. We didn’t kick Pidge out when we found out she was a girl–” 

“That’s because it was obvious to everyone except you.” Keith scoffed.

“–and we didn’t kick you out when you learned that your mum was a Galra, either!” Lance continued, pointedly ignoring Keith’s jab. “Maybe Allura was a bit harsh back then, but she’s come so far since that happened. In fact, working with the Blade of Marmora has helped all of us see things a bit less black-and-white. And…so have you.” Lance’s blue eyes felt impossibly warm as they stared fondly into Keith’s own.  “At the end of the day, nobody sees you as human-Keith or Galra-Keith – you’re just Keith. Always will be.”

“I…I guess so.” Keith found it hard to agree with the brunette, but even more difficult to argue with him. Dammit, how was Lance so good at that? “But that’s not why I don’t want you to get Shiro. I mean, it kind of is, but…I just don’t want everyone to think that I’m…” He paused uncomfortably. “Not…strong….” Keith was dancing around the word that he really meant, but Lance understood well enough.

“Are you kidding me? You’re so strong, Keith! Sure, you’re reckless sometimes, and you’re pretty damn rubbish at letting people in…” Lance smiled tenderly. “…but you’re strong.”

Keith blushed, even though he didn’t quite believe the sentiment. Maybe outwardly, that was the way that people saw him. But recent events had definitely proven to him just how many chinks there were in his armour.

“Anyway!” Lance exclaimed with a sense of finality. He stood up and twirled around to face Keith, hands planted indignantly on his hips. “I’m not gonna keep letting you put this off – you want to lean on me, that’s fine, but we’re going to the med bay right now. I’ll drag you by your ankles if I have to.”

“Ugh…” Keith sulked. He knew Lance was right – the unrelenting pain in his tailbone wasn’t exactly something that he should be ignoring. So, as much as he wanted to dig his heels in, he finally conceded and surrendered his hands to the brunette.

Lance scooped them up in his own, giving a strong tug that propelled Keith up onto his feet. He swayed unsteadily, locking the brunette’s palms into a death-grip to keep himself from tumbling forward.

“Jesus, Lance!” Keith scowled, bowing his back reactively. Anything shy of a gentle movement was instant-shockwaves down his spine at the moment.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Here, let me get my arms under you properly.” Lance tucked his left shoulder beneath the other boy’s armpit, wrapping a hand sturdily around Keith’s waist – he was careful to avoid touching his lower back. The brunette’s right hand wasn’t as useful with the cast still on it, so instead, he laced his fingers delicately together with Keith’s.

“You ready?” Lance grinned warmly. Keith’s heart fluttered at the feeling of the paladin’s smooth skin against his own; at his soft breath tickling the edge of his collarbone.

“U–um, I guess?” The Blade swallowed thickly. The expanse of floor between him and the doorframe seemed overwhelmingly far all of a sudden. Really, he didn’t even want to do this. The worsening throb of his tailbone was the only thing right now pushing his leg forward into his first wobbling stride.

Lance held him steady as he continued taking slow, methodical paces. “You’re doing great, Keith! Just keep going, nice and easy.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’m not two! I don’t need a cheer squad for taking a couple of steps!” That noted, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t working up a serious sweat just from the distance they’d covered so far. “Uh…how far is the med bay from my room again?” 

“Don’t worry; if you get too tired and give up half way, my ankle-dragging offer still stands.” Lance winked playfully. Keith tried to hide his blush with a sharp scowl.

After what felt like forever, they finally reached the metal door of the bedroom. Standing before it brought up a lot of panicked thoughts that Keith quickly tried to squash back down. Lance had said that everything would be fine, so it was fine…right? He tried to imagine his teammates reacting positively…

“Oh Keith, you’re purple now? That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, Keith! You look different, but not in a bad way or anything!”

…but he just couldn’t picture it. Every corner of his mind was plagued with doubt.

“Hey…it’s gonna be alright. I promise.” Lance’s voice jolted Keith from his thoughts, making him realize that he’d maybe been squeezing the other boy’s hand like a vise for the past thirty seconds. He released his lip from the bite he’d unconsciously been holding it in, tasting metal.

“I-I don’t want to do this.” Keith quivered softly. “I just…want to be normal again.”

“I know,” Lance replied solemnly. “But hiding in here isn’t gonna make that happen. I don’t know if Coran and Allura will know how to fix this, but what I do know is that the only way we’ll find out is if we ask. You’re…not alone, okay? You’ve just gotta let m– let everyone – help you.”

Keith let his eyelids ease shut, and took in a long, sobering breath. He let them slide open again, languidly gazing at the clusters of freckles that spread across Lance’s cheeks like constellations. “…Okay.”

Smiling in approval, the brunette reached out and pressed the control panel on the wall, triggering the door to slide open. “…After you,” he said patiently.

Humming in response, Keith began moving forward again. He unconsciously sucked in a tight breath as his body passed through the doorframe – this was it. He was officially outside of his room for the first time in over a week. Trying not to make a scene in front of Lance, his eyes darted frantically from side to side, on guard for anyone wandering the castle halls.

“Dude, it’s fine – nobody else is around at the moment. Now that Coran and Matt got the thermal regulators back online, everyone’s been put to work cleaning all of the frost out of the teludav.”

“Oh…good.” Keith nodded. That admittedly made him feel a little better. “Wait, does that mean you’re using me as an excuse to get out of it?”

“Mayyybe.” Lance smirked cheekily. “But it was also an excuse to hang out with my favourite person.”

“Hah, right.” Keith replied sarcastically, if only to muffle the pounding in his chest. Lance was kidding about that last part, probably. It was best not to overthink it. Distractedly, Keith had continued taking a few small paces, but their progress down the corridors was rather sluggish.

Continuing in comfortable silence, Keith tried to keep his focus on the dulled sensations in his feet. The coldness of steel, the squish of rubber mats in the doorways – anything that diverted his attention from the rhythmic throbbing in his tailbone. Each pulse that rippled down his spine had started to feel just a little bit stronger than the last.

He was certain that the soreness was showing on his face – hell, he could feel the sweat beading across his forehead – but appreciated that Lance was wise enough not to ask him about it for now. Keith’s initial resistance over going to the med bay was fading by the minute – he just wanted someone to stop the god-awful pain already.

Distantly, Keith thought he heard a strange tapping noise – he also thought he felt Lance tense up a little beneath him. As the Blade continued walking, it grew louder. What was it? Pausing to listen carefully, the noise sounded like it was getting closer and closer. In fact, it almost sounded like…

…Footsteps.

Keith froze up immediately at the revelation. Unfortunately, before he could react, a slightly cranky-looking brunette rounded the corner. Pidge skittered to a halt at the two boys that had unexpectedly appeared in her path, before her entire expression shifted dramatically.

“K–K–Keith?!” She stammered out in shock, adjusting her glasses as if she thought she might have been seeing things.

Meanwhile, RUN! was the only thing Keith’s brain was yelling at him right now, and his shoulders wrenched free from the tangle of Lance’s limbs to try and bolt for it. Instantly regretting the knee-jerk decision, however, the half-Galra’s back seized violently. He crumpled over sideways with a pained groan, Lance’s hands once again being the only thing keeping him from a messy face-to-ground collision.

“Whoa, buddy! I’ve got you!” Lance strained out between gritted teeth, lowering Keith as carefully as he could to the floor with his limited strength. 

“What the hell is going on?!” Pidge yelled, rushing over to the two of them. “Why is Keith purple?”

“I–I told you…he has a rash!” Lance lied. He was too busy supporting Keith’s head as he squirmed in agony to respond more convincingly.

“That is not a rash, Lance – he’s got fangs, and claws! He…he looks like a Galra!”

Keith’s throat hitched at the comment. There was barely a second of hesitation before Pidge had connected the dots. A Galra. All of the fears he’d had about everyone’s reactions were coming true. Forget his back pain – he couldn’t listen to whatever else the Green Paladin was going to say next.

Pushing Lance away, Keith scrambled clumsily onto his front. He tried desperately to push himself upright, but could barely manage a crawl in his current condition. Fresh sparks of pain shot up his spine with each swing of his limbs. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. 

“Wh–Keith! Stop, Pidge didn’t mean it like that!”

He could barely hear the Red Paladin over blood rushing in his own ears. A small hand clamped around his ankle, and he hysterically kicked backwards in an attempt to shake it off. 

“Keith, I–I don’t know what’s going on, but I wasn’t tr–” 

“Don’t touch me!” He shrieked, scrambling franticly away from Pidge’s grasp. Keith’s lungs felt like bursting with the short, skittish breaths he was gasping out. Hot needles pricked at his nerves, and a bubbling pressure was building rapidly beneath his tailbone – the stress was quickly becoming unbearable.

And then…a sharp crack silenced the room. It was immediately followed by a guttural howl of agony. 

Keith had suffered through some pretty severe injuries, but he’d never felt something hurt this badly before. It was like his entire back was being flayed open from the inside. His skin was stretched so thin by the thing beneath it that the flesh appeared translucent – dark purple veins looked as though they were writhing around from within.

The contortion of his own body made the half-Galra’s stomach lurch reactively, causing the contents of his stomach to rise up his throat and dribble unceremoniously down his chin. Keith was caught between screaming and hiccupping up more bile, his shoulders quaking violently with each fresh shockwave running through his body.

A gurgled sob spat past Keith’s lips as the hard lump finally punctured through his skin, and then everything behind it suddenly surged its way out. A long, thin tendril slapped against the ground, wet with blood and fluid. 

The ringing in Keith’s ears was muffling whatever was being shouted at him right now, and two brown-haired blurs were all Keith could make out in front of him as fatigue smothered him all at once. Dull throbs continued to surge their way through his limbs, and Keith thought he heard someone screaming his name as the edges of his consciousness began to slowly ebb away. The blistering sting of his tailbone faded softly, as his mind dipped off into nothingness.

Pidge and Lance were left standing petrified before the horror scene that had just taken place in front of them. Neither had anything to say that could break the oppressive silence that was festering within the corridor.

Gulping back the tremble in her voice, Pidge finally rasped out a single, quiet remark. “…I’ll get Coran.”

--

A soft buzzing noise slowly seeped into Keith’s ears, rousing him awake. His eyelids fluttered open, and he immediately noticed that a few things felt…off. First of all, there was an unfamiliar outfit clinging to his body. It was made of a strange, rubbery material that stretched all the way down to his digits – assumedly, it was some sort of bodysuit.

Secondly, he realized that he was standing upright, and surrounded by a thick layer of blue-tinted glass. He recognized it as the inside of one of the healing pods in the med bay.

…Why was he in the med bay again? Keith’s memory was pretty foggy at the moment.

The next thing he observed was outside the glass chamber, curled up snugly on the floor – it was Lance, seemingly fast asleep. A pillow was tucked under his head, and some old crumb-covered plates surrounded the dozing boy – just how long had Lance been there, anyway? Hell, how long had he been there?

Still a little lethargic, Keith pawed feebly at the healing pod, trying to make his way out of it. Thankfully, his movements were enough to trigger the automatic door, and the glass slid away to allow him to exit. Puffs of white smoke hissed out of the chamber, adding a slight chill to the air. Lifting his leg delicately, Keith stepped over the lip of the pod and made his way out.

The half-Galra wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but the stiffness of his limbs seemed to indicate it had been a while. Keith stretched his arms high above his head, twisting his waist side to side as he brought them back down. A pleasant shiver made its way down his spine…and then seemed to keep going beyond it. Startled by the foreign sensation, Keith bent his head sideways to look behind himself. 

He was greeted by a long, purple tail.

His long, purple tail.

For once, Keith thought he was justified in freaking the fuck out. He practically threw himself to the ground, curling into himself and digging his fingers into the back of his hair. His chest heaved frantically, and he was all but choking on the sobs that gushed from his mouth. His tail thumped wildly against the floor, making him writhe and kick his legs harder to drown out the involuntary movements.

The noise must have woken Lance up, because the Red Paladin had sleepily sat himself upright atop his mound of blankets. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, turning to face whatever was causing such a racket. “Keith…? Oh my g–Keith! Just…just calm down! It’s okay!”

Snapping to full alertness at the sight of the Blade thrashing violently around on the floor, Lance scuttled across the room and quickly held onto Keith’s shoulders. He tried to lift the other boy to sit up, but he refused to budge, instead crumpling even further into himself. His entire body was shaking. 

“Please, Keith, you need to breathe! Slower, just focus on breathing slowly!” Lance vigorously rubbed a hand up and down Keith’s back, attempting to soothe him. While the contact didn’t seem to be helping, the brunette was suddenly caught off-guard by two strong arms launching up and wrapping around his torso.

Keith planted his face into Lance’s lap, squeezing tightly around his narrow waist. Even if he couldn’t stop the overwhelming terror he was feeling right now, the other boy’s presence still helped to ground him. Lance was his stability. His assurance. His strength.

The half-Galra’s breathing began to steady itself somewhat, and his loud cries mellowed into weak sniffles pressed against Lance’s legs. He felt a gentle hand card through his mullet, raking down to where the hair had extended past his collar.

The two stayed like that for a long while, Keith gradually calming himself down beneath Lance’s comforting touch. Eventually, he gave a long, shuddering breath, and turned his head to the side so that he was no longer muffled. As he finally spoke, Keith’s voice was uncharacteristically small and frail.

“…How long…have I been in the healing pod?”

Lance licked his lips uneasily. “Well, it’s been about a week.”

Keith twitched at the information but said nothing. His knuckles tightened slightly in the fabric of Lance’s shirt.

“Do you…feel okay? Physically, I mean.” Lance spoke very carefully, not wanting to set Keith off again.

“…I guess.”

“Are you hungry or anything? Do you want me to get you something to eat?”

Keith’s tail gave a listless swish, causing him to drill his eyes forward as he spoke. “No, I’m fine.”

“…Alright then.”

Keith could tell Lance was uncomfortable right now, not knowing which topics were too ‘dangerous’ to discuss. Feeling a little guilty, he let go of the brunette’s waist and leaned himself upright.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, sniffing back the last of his tears. “I know I’m not exactly easy to be around at the moment.”

“Dude, no. You have literally zero reasons to apologise right now. You’ve…you’ve been through a lot.”

Keith looked over to the Red Paladin – he noticed the heavy bags under Lance’s eyes, and how the clothes he wore didn’t look like they’d been washed in days. The Blade wondered if Lance had even left the med bay at all while he’d been unconscious. “That’s not fair…I’ve put you through a lot, too.”

Lance shook his head at the comment. “I’m the one who pestered you in your room every day, right? It’s not like I didn’t have a choice or anything. And it was…” A soft shade of pink dusted Lance’s cheeks. “…it was worth it. To me, at least.”

“W-well,” Keith fumbled for his words. “It meant a lot to me. You said earlier that you think I’m strong, but…I’m really not. I’ve spent the last few months breaking down, over and over, crying on the floor like a fucking kid.” Keith’s tail swayed behind him, but he didn’t react to it this time. “I’ve felt nothing but weak and helpless this whole time, but you…you’re the only reason I’m strong enough to keep going right now. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there every day, just chatting with me, making me laugh and stuff. You’re the strong one, Lance. You’re the only reason I’m…still hanging on over this – just barely.”

“Hey…don’t get sappy on me like that,” Lance smiled tenderly, his blue eyes looking brighter beneath the wetness of budding tears. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Stop it,” Keith whined, laughter ringing from his lips. “I’ve already decided that I’m done with crying, so you have to be, too!”

“You? Mr. Drama Queen? I’ll believe it when I see it.” Lance chuckled back, a thin finger wiping the spill across his cheek. “But you know, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on again…my lap is always yours.” 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the cheesy remark, Keith simply replied with a gentle “thanks”. He felt like he was blushing from his head to his…tail.

Keith puffed out his chest resolutely – he was going to prove to Lance that he was turning over a new leaf right now; no more meltdowns. He nervously reached around himself and gripped the alien limb, running his fingers down it as he pulled it into his lap. It was smooth – velvety even – with the fine hairs that covered it. There was also thicker hair, like the kind running down his neck, growing in a line down the top of it. This was his now. His tail.

“Uh…d–don’t push yourself.” Lance’s voice was laced with concern. He’d probably noticed that Keith had gone ghostly pale and was chewing on his lip anxiously.

“I’m okay, I n–n–need to d–do this.” Keith trembled, taking a shuddering breath to try and calm himself down. He held his tail like a venomous snake, focusing on the feeling of his own hands touching the newest part of him.

“Can you move it yourself? Or is it kinda just doing its own thing right now?” Lance asked quizzically, leaning over Keith’s lap in interest.

“I mean, I can probably control it?” The half-Galra concentrated on the limb in front of him, focusing on the very tip of it. Move, his brain begged, and slowly, shakily, the end of his tail curled around his own hand. He hoisted it off his lap, holding it out as if he were presenting it to Lance like a medal.

The Red Paladin stared at the long, tapered appendage, eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Can I…?” His hands reached out, hovering just above Keith’s own.

Keith shrugged awkwardly, and the brunette’s warm hands were suddenly smoothing themselves down his tail. The pads of Lance’s fingertips rubbed at his skin and sent goosebumps all the way up his spine. It seemed like his tail was especially sensitive, and there was something strangely intimate about the touch. He could feel warmth pooling in his stomach, and his heart rate was quickening by the second. “L–Lance, can you maybe sto–” 

“Number Four, you’re awake!” Coran’s voice echoed loudly through the med bay. “Or should I start calling you Number One?”

Keith jumped sharply at the assaulting noise, his tail instinctively jerking out of Lance’s hands and wrapping around his own middle.

He turned to face the Altean advisor, but immediately froze when he realized Coran wasn’t the only new company standing in the med bay. Huddled behind him in the doorframe was the entirety of Team Voltron, and Keith’s stomach threatened to jump out of his throat in panic.

Their six pairs of eyes bored into Keith, and suddenly he wished he’d never left the healing pod at all.

Chapter Text

The air in the room was unbearable, thick with a sharp tension that Keith thought to be more akin to bloodlust. It didn’t feel like his friends were the ones approaching him – more like a pack of ravenous lions who had finally cornered their prey.

Keith was petrified to the spot where he kneeled, his tail wrapped tautly around his stomach as if it were trying to protect him. He wanted to get out of there, run away and hide in his room all over again where nobody could see him; nobody could touch him. His knees clacked together feebly beneath his weight as he tried to shuffle backwards, but he couldn’t seem to get any traction. Even though he’d supposedly been asleep all week, his entire body was heavy with exhaustion.

From the doorway, it was Allura who chose to make the first move towards him, the others stepping aside to allow her to pass through. Keith’s heart rate spiked at the dark-skinned Altean’s approach; he clutched timidly at the pale bodysuit he’d found himself wearing inside the healing pod.

“D–don’t…come any further…” Keith rasped, his voice soft and fragile. He shook his head feverishly as the Princess continued to move closer and closer, her tall shadow looming over him.

And then, without a word, Allura crouched down and suddenly embraced him. It was a gentle hug, as if she thought Keith might break in her arms, but it carried the warmth of the entire team behind it.

“Keith…thank goodness you are alright.” She whispered to him earnestly. “All of us…we were so worried about you.”

There was a light bump from behind Allura, and Keith felt a second pair of arms envelop him. One of them was cold; metallic. They were followed by another set. Then another – soon the entire team had wrapped themselves around Keith, squeezing him with a palpable tenderness that made his heart swell. He even felt Lance wiggle in behind him to get in on the moment.

Even though he’d just finished telling the brunette that he was done crying, the telltale wetness of tears pricked up from the corners of his eyes. The floodgates that had been holding back all of his anxieties, his fears, were burst open, and Keith could no longer contain the cathartic sobs that he released into Allura’s shoulder. Or maybe it was Hunk’s.

“Whoa, Keith! I get that you’re emotional, but mind the snot!”

...Pidge’s shoulder, apparently.

“Sorry,” he sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his sleeve. The arms around him loosened, which was admittedly somewhat relieving.

“Hey, he’s been through a lot; let Keith have his moment!” Matt defended, scolding his sister with a firm poke.

The feeling in the room was…odd. It wasn’t necessarily in a bad way, but Keith was taken aback by just how normal everyone was acting right now. “Um…so you guys really don’t…hate me?” He croaked out nervously. 

“Hate you? Why would we hate you?” Hunk said incredulously. “I mean, you’re still you under all that purple, right?”

“You’re still a paladin of Voltron.” Allura nodded.

“And a defender of the universe – whether you’re in a pilot seat or not.” Shiro added, ruffling Keith’s hair. “None of us would ever turn our backs on you like that; especially not just because of the way you look.”

The half-Galra sensed a burning stare at the back of his neck – he was positive that it was a certain Red Paladin pulling a face that screamed ‘I told you so’.

“Still…” Keith sighed. “…It isn’t normal. The way I look right now is…it’s a lot to take in. Even I’m still not really used to it.”

“You’ve been in a healing pod for an entire week, dude,” Pidge teased; “we’ve had time to adjust.” 

“Pfft, I suppose so.” He gave a small smile back, fiddling mindlessly with the glove of his suit. Now that he was more relaxed, he’d noticed just how itchy the rubbery fabric felt against his skin.

“Alright, everyone!” Coran drew the team’s attention with the boom of his voice. “We’ve all seen Keith now, but it’s time I conducted that medical exam post-haste. That means everyone needs to shoo! Go on, out you go!” 

The mustached advisor was already swatting his hands at the rest of the team, as they were begrudgingly forced out of the med bay. Stopping at Lance, however, Coran looked back and forth expectantly between Keith and the brunette.

“Uh…he can stay.” The Blade said plainly. Coran shot him an approving thumbs-up.

“Great! In that case then, do you boys mind waiting over here while I bring up the cryo-scans?”

Coran gestured to the far wall of the med bay, and Keith and Lance followed the direction so that they weren’t in the Altean’s way. They leaned back against the neon-trimmed surface, watching Coran as he punched some commands into the holographic keypad in the center of the room. Various digitized screens blipped into the air in front of him, and he tapped at his chin thoughtfully as his eyes skimmed over the data.

“Alright boys, you can come have a seat.” Coran chirped, pressing a few more buttons on the keypad. Not a moment later, two futuristic-looking chairs rose up out of a panel on the floor. Keith and Lance looked at each other warily, before stepping forward together to take a seat.

Keith gingerly moved his tail to one side, before easing himself down. His foot bounced anxiously against the stem of the chair; after all, an insurmountable amount of pressure was riding on the news he was about to receive. Would Coran know why he was turning into a Galra? And, more importantly, would he be able to fix it? Keith swallowed the thick dread hanging at the back of his throat. 

“Now, Keith, I’m going to be upfront about this with you. No mincing my words, no dancing around the subject, just getting straight to the poin–”

“Coran.” Lance groaned, likely feeding off of the nervous aura that was emanating from the half-Galra.

“Sorry, sorry!” Coran waved his gloved hand dismissively. “Now, as you can see here, the healing pods are able to conduct assessments of the individual inside. These cryo-scans are able to pick up just about anything about them, generating a detailed record of their biological data. Let’s take a look at Keith’s, shall we?”

Coran turned around and pulled one of the holographic screens forward. Keith could see what looked like some kind of CT scan of his body, as well as a bunch of medical jargon he didn’t understand.

“These scans have been tracking Keith’s condition, and I’ve been having a look at them throughout the week to figure out what’s making his body change so dramatically. If you look here –” Coran pointed to a specific line of data, “– you’ll notice that Keith’s cell regeneration and metabolic processes have spiked considerably, compared to the average human. It’s these processes that enable your body to change so rapidly, though the toll it takes on your energy levels would normally be quite significant.”

“I mean…I haven’t been feeling that tired?” Keith mumbled in confusion.

“Right! Which brings us to the next significant piece of information – your body is generating an abnormally high reading of quintessence. It’s hard to say at this point if your body is producing it, or if you’ve somehow come into contact and absorbed a large quantity of the substance.”

“Well, there was that time on the cargo mission…” Lance looked towards Keith apprehensively. They both remembered him upending an entire canister of the stuff over himself all too well.

Keith, however, shook his head cautiously at the paladin; he didn’t want to have that conversation right now. Instead, he chose to cut things short. “Look, Coran, that’s all really interesting, but what I want to know is what it all actually means. Can you…fix me or not?”

A solemn expression suddenly flashed across the Altean’s features. “Well, at the moment…no.”

A heavy weight hit Keith right in the chest, his heart sinking down into the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this outcome was a possibility, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been desperately hoping for anything else – any answer that wasn’t this. He’d already exhausted his last resort. What else did he have left? 

Abruptly, Keith felt a warm hand wrap around his own – he didn’t realize he’d been shaking. Lance stared worriedly into his eyes, giving his palm a gentle squeeze. It wasn’t as though the touch made everything magically better, but it helped. Keith felt his breathing steady, just a little. 

“But, not to fret! After all, the cryo-scan is only able to tell us so much!” Coran gave a forced grin, before turning around to enter another command into the keypad. Next to him, a small tray of strange-looking tools emerged from the floor. Keith wanted to call them medical equipment, but he’d never seen anything like these back on Earth. 

“To really get the full picture on Keith’s condition,” Coran picked up a thin glass cylinder and began screwing it onto a pronged silver nozzle of some sort; “we’re going to need a little more data.” The Altean held the implement up to his face, giving it a readying flick. At the familiar action, Keith finally concluded what this particular tool was – it was the space-equivalent of a syringe. He immediately paled at the revelation.

“Hey buddy, you okay?” Lance whispered in concern. 

“…Not a fan of needles.” Keith muttered tersely, trying to control the waves of nausea that were somersaulting through his gut.

“Ah, but this isn’t a simple needle!” Coran interjected cheerfully. “This little beauty’s able to take blood, tissue, and hormone samples, all at once!”

“That’s worse.” Keith deadpanned.

“Ah, well!” The Altean quickly twisted sideways. “Lance! I have a few questions I need Keith to answer. Why don’t you run through them together while I’m collecting the samples, hmm?” He picked up the portable data pad from the central console and thrust it into the brunette’s hands.

“Uh, sure.” Lance replied, nodding uneasily. He swiveled in his chair to face Keith, and tried to prevent his eyes from wandering towards Coran’s busy hands, which were unzipping and peeling away the top half of Keith’s bodysuit. 

Keith did his best to keep his gaze locked on the Red Paladin, focusing on anything that would distract him from whatever the red-haired advisor was about to do.

“Okay, so let’s see here…” Lance scanned over the screen, scratching at the back of his head absentmindedly. “When did you notice your first symptom?”

“Uh…that would’ve been the purple mark on my chest, which was after we fought Zarkon that one time–” Keith winced suddenly at the sharp prick that jolted through his arm. “–About three months ago, maybe?” 

Lance tapped at the keypad, entering in the other boy’s response. “And what physical changes have you noticed since that point in time?”

It was weird for the brunette to speak so formally – he was probably reading the questions out verbatim. “Well there’s the purple skin, obviously. Then the teeth, the nails, and now the uh, the tail…” The Blade’s eye twitched as he tried to ignore the growing sting in his shoulder. “…I think that’s everything so far? Oh, wait. Also hair.” 

“…Hair?”

“…Yeah. Um. All the way down my neck.” 

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed a little as he jotted down the comment. The half-Galra’s cheeks burned in embarrassment, and he barely remembered the other questions he answered after that – at least it kept his mind preoccupied.

“Alrighty, we’re all finished!” Coran announced, wiping the tip of the medical instrument with a thin cloth. “I’ll have to run a few more tests on these samples, so leave them with me and we’ll make another appointment tomorrow. How’s after breakfast sound?”

“Sounds fine.” Keith mumbled, squirming uncomfortably in his rubbery bodysuit. God, he was looking forward to taking it off.

“Great! In that case, go get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll see you boys at dinner!”

Dinner? Keith didn’t realize it was that late already – he must’ve woken up from the healing pod fairly late in the afternoon.

“Thanks, Coran!” Lance smiled, pulling the Blade up from his seat and leading him out of the med bay. Keith trailed along dumbly, mesmerized by the softness of the brunette’s hands.

The two boys walked back to the private quarters, stopping finally in front of Keith’s room. Lance politely punched in the door code, before stepping to one side.

“You probably wanna get changed and stuff before dinner, right? Trust me, I know how uncomfortable those damn healing pod suits are.”

Keith grimaced in agreement – it felt like the powdery inside of a latex glove.

“Well, dinner’s in about an hour, so I’ll uh…I’ll see you then, I guess!” The brunette rocked on his feet awkwardly, as if he was conflicted about something, before spinning on his heel to head towards his own room.

…Weird, Keith thought to himself, before entering through his own door and making a beeline for the shower.

Scrubbing the sweat and grime from his skin was purely satisfying; that is, until he reached a certain new appendage. He hadn’t quite mastered holding it still as of yet, and his soapy hands struggled to grip the writhing limb as it thrashed under the faucet, spraying water up the tiled walls.

Feeling only half-refreshed after the ordeal, Keith dabbed his skin dry with a towel and shucked on his pants – Good thing they’re low-waisted, he mused dryly, leaving a bit of sag in the back to allow for his tail to peek over his waistband. God, there’d been a hole for it in the healing pod suit, but he wondered how well his other clothes were going to fit now.

As Keith tugged his head through the collar of his black t-shirt, which seemed to be getting snugger by the day, he caught his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. He scowled bitterly – the pale rings of skin around his eyes made him look like some kind of reverse-raccoon. He felt ridiculous.

Shaking away the intrusive self-deprecating thoughts, the half-Galra ruffled his hair, stirring up the water droplets at the back of his neck, and made his way into the hall. As his socked feet padded down the corridor – none of his shoes fit him anymore, either – Keith became more acutely aware of just how famished he was. His stomach gurgled restlessly, and the Blade placed a hand on it as if to soothe the noises. 

When he finally reached the dining hall, everyone was already seated and digging into the plates of food goo in front of them. At the sight of the purple boy, they lifted their heads attentively.

“Tkheith!” Pidge exclaimed, splattering the table with tiny flecks of green.

“Ew, seriously?” Matt groaned, shaking the backsplash from his sleeve. “Also though, Keith! Good to see you up and about!”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Keith mumbled awkwardly, pulling up the last chair at the table. Hunk gave a friendly smile, shuffling over a little to give the other boy more space.

The steady hum of conversation picked back up again, although the half-Galra noticed several curious stares drifting his way every now and then when they thought he wasn’t looking. Keith pointedly ignored them, drilling his own gaze into the plate in front of himself. 

Observing the dish closely, he could swear it was less food than what Lance had been bringing him a week ago. …Was it less? No, he definitely felt like it was. 

Disregarding the thought, he picked up his spoon and began shoveling goo into his mouth. He sucked the slimy liquid through his teeth, barely swallowing before he slurped up another mouthful. Without even meaning to, Keith had practically inhaled his dinner – he felt several eyes trained on his movements as he licked sheepishly at the corner of his lips.

“That was…fast.” Shiro gawked. “Though I guess you haven’t really eaten anything in an entire week.”

Keith’s cheeks reddened at the comment. Further betraying his humiliation, his stomach let out another loud rumble. He was still hungry.

“Uh, you know, I’m actually pretty full,” Lance said, stretching as he stood up from his seat. “I think I’m gonna go crash for the night, see you guys tomorrow.” Discreetly, he pushed his plate a little closer to Keith as he turned and left the dining hall.

Trying to ignore his embarrassment, Keith slid Lance’s food goo across a bit further, before scooping up what was left. He kept his eyes trained downwards, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to detect everyone’s concerned looks if he wasn’t actually able to see them.

He really wished it had worked.

--

The next day, Keith almost missed his appetite. Almost. But right now, he was far too nervous to actually eat anything. His guts felt like they were twisted up in knots, squirming around inside of him every time he took a breath.

Lance had asked at breakfast whether Keith wanted him to come to his follow-up appointment with Coran, but he’d declined – whatever the result was, he’d rather face it alone right now. Or at least, that’s how he’d felt at the time. He was becoming a lot less sure of that, the closer he got to the med bay.

When he finally reached the automatic doors, he could see that Coran was already waiting for him inside. There were two chairs set up, the same as yesterday, and the Altean was already seated in one of them. 

“Keith! Come in, pop yourself down over here!” There was a slight weariness to the man’s voice, as though he’d spent more time awake last night than he’d like to let on. 

The half-Galra followed the instruction anyway, sitting down in the opposite chair. He held his breath anxiously as he waited for Coran to continue. 

“Now, I’ve spent a good deal of time analyzing the samples I took from you yesterday…” Coran leaned forward as he spoke, causing his shoulders to sag. “…And it’s bad news, unfortunately. There wasn’t anything decisive that I was able to conclude from the data.”

Keith’s fists balled in his lap – it was exactly the answer he’d been afraid of.

“But wait! Not all bad news! One interesting thing that I did find was this!” Coran held out the data pad in his hands, bringing up another screen projected in front of them both.

The image showed some kind of molecular structure, but Keith had no idea what he was actually looking at. 

“As you can see, I’ve been analyzing the different protein compositions of yesterday’s samples, to find out if there were any discrepancies between standard human or Galran transcripts. At the moment, your cells are somewhere in the middle of the two, which I must admit is quite fascinating! But, more importantly, all of them contained traces of a strange new substance of some kind. Upon further analysis, all I’m able to conclude is that it’s a mutated strand of quintessence that’s been present in your body for quite some time.”

“What do you mean by ‘quite some time’? How many months are we talking about?”

“More like years, my boy.” Coran’s gloved thumbs rubbed together uncertainly as he spoke.

Keith repeated the phrase nervously in his head, gulping down his rising trepidation as the Altean continued.

“Unfortunately, I’m not equipped with the tools or knowledge to analyse it any further. I’ll need to speak with Allura to confirm, but I’d like to pay a visit to the capital of Kalkara and see what their scientists can make of it. The Kalkarans have been aligned with the rebels for centa-phoebs, and their focus in that time has been solely on the study of quintessence.”

“It’s…a smart move, when your enemy’s basically powered by the stuff.”

“Indeed.” Coran’s head gave a firm nod.

“But these…these Kalkarans – how will having them analyse some old, weird quintessence actually help me? I get that you’re interested by it and all, but I don’t see how it’s relevant to my current…situation.” Keith gestured towards his body for emphasis.

“Well, you mentioned that the first symptoms of your transformation surfaced after you were hit with a blast of anti-quintessence. My current theory is that this caused some sort of reaction between the two, and has perhaps triggered the change.” Coran’s eyes darted back to the monitor between them. Pondering over the information again, he seemed to resume speaking reflexively under his breath. “…That being said, I’m not sure if that means we can reverse the…I mean! Not to worry, Keith! I’ll speak to Allura about visiting Kalkara post-haste, so get some rest today and we’ll see how soon we can schedule a visit!” 

With that statement, Coran leapt from his seat and dashed abruptly from the med bay, leaving Keith sitting alone in both confusion and frustration. No matter how close Keith got to answers, the universe always seemed to find a way to dash his hopes.

More importantly, he didn’t really understand how all this Kalkara stuff was going to actually help him. After all, he already knew quintessence wasn’t the answer after what happened on the Proxima fleet mission. It all felt like one big waste of time – and Keith was already too damn short on that.

With a huff, Keith hoisted himself off of the chair and made his own way out of the room. He couldn’t help the angry stomps he made as he headed for the only place he knew would help him feel better – the training deck.

Keith knew that Coran was only trying to come up with some sort of solution, even if it was pretty desperate – he supposed he shouldn’t be so bitter about it. But he’d already put his faith in Kolivan, and that had ended even worse than he’d expected. ‘Maybes’ just weren’t cutting it anymore.

Entering the training room, Keith ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at the tufts down his neck idly. He inhaled a deep, centreing breath, trying to steady his heart rate a little and quell the tension bubbling through his veins.

“Start level one.” Keith stated curtly, readying his stance for hand-to-hand combat. He didn’t want to think anymore.

On command, one of the castle training bots was summoned to the room. It remained still for only a moment, before lunging forward at the Blade with a clearly-telegraphed punch.

The first level was always a pushover, and Keith effortlessly dodged the robotic fist. He locked his hands around the still-outstretched arm, and swung the attacker through the air. The bot’s impact with the floor was punctuated by the resounding crunch of metal-on-metal, and Keith staggered back a little from the force.

He’d never been able to do that before. Had his transformation really made him that much stronger? 

Keith clenched and unclenched his fists in disbelief, as the damaged droid was meanwhile replaced with another. He supposed it was time to find out just how high the new limits of his strength were.

Without hesitation, the training bot charged at him a little faster than the previous one. Instead of dodging, Keith held up his arms and blocked the swing – he barely flinched at the full weight of the punch crashing into him. A cocky smile flashed over his features.

Pushing back against the droid’s fist, he returned the strike with a punch of his own. The Blade could feel the twist of solid metal beneath his knuckles as he propelled the training bot across the room. As it clattered to the floor, Keith could see that its chest plate had peeled open at the centre of the impact. A mess of wires crackled softly as the damaged opponent was removed from the arena.

Keith’s lungs heaved satisfyingly, and he used the back of his hand to wipe his sweat-soaked brow. Finally, he’d at least found one thing about being a Galra that wasn’t quite so bad.

Catching his breath again, Keith looked around impatiently for the next bot. Instead, however, it seemed as though someone had halted his training sequence. He glanced over to the training deck controls by the entrance, where a figure was standing before them.

“Mind having me as your sparring partner instead?” Shiro smiled from the doorway, walking forward to stand opposite the half-Galra.

“Uh, s–sure.” Keith fumbled, feeling slightly on edge in the unexpected presence of his brother. Where did he come from? Had he been watching this whole time? He pushed his questions to the side for now, hesitantly resuming his stance.

Shiro raised his fists in front of himself, moving his feet a few inches apart and bending his knees. “Alright then; don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’ve been in a healing pod all week.”

Keith nodded back and steeled himself, before pushing forward and lunging at the Black Paladin. His first strike was dodged swiftly – Shiro ducked beneath him, then swung upward with his own robotic fist. Keith pulled his head back just in time to feel the cold metal graze his jaw, quickly spinning on his heel to bring himself behind his opponent.

The Blade launched a punch at the unguarded paladin, but Shiro turned around just in time to deflect the hit. His steel arm creaked loudly at the force of Keith’s knuckles colliding with it.

“Geez, looks like you’ve gotten stronger since we last fought.” Shiro chuckled, guiding Keith’s fist to one side and stepping backwards to regain some distance between them.

“…Guess so.” The half-Galra responded – it wasn’t exactly like he’d played any role in the matter.

This time, it was Shiro that moved first; he jabbed an open palm towards Keith’s exposed ribs. He managed to swerve out of the way in time, but was struck by the follow-up knock to his shoulder. He clenched his teeth and stooped forward, before digging an elbow into Shiro’s stomach. Tense abs absorbed the brunt of the hit, but Keith felt firm hands grip at the collar of his shirt. His brother tugged him to the side, where his foot was waiting to sweep under Keith’s feet. 

The sudden shift in gravity made Keith panic – he needed to grab onto something, fast. His hands grasped at empty air, but his tail…

…Without even meaning to, he’d somehow managed to wrap his tail around Shiro’s arm. 

“Um…! I d–don’t know how I’m doing this!” Keith stammered, dangling above the ground by the grip of his new limb. He could feel himself involuntarily coil tighter around the Black Paladin’s wrist. 

Stunned, but still not willing to lose the match, Shiro yanked Keith by his tail and launched him over his shoulder. The Blade rolled through the air powerlessly, before his back collided loudly with the floor. Even if Shiro wasn’t fighting to the death, he was never really good at holding back – Keith had learned that one the hard way a few too many times.

Without giving him the chance to recover, Shiro was already on top of him, his robotic hand poised at his throat and glowing an ominous purple.

“Fine, I yield.” Keith wheezed, feeling a slight amount of relief as his brother’s weight rose off of him.

A gloved hand extended towards him warmly, and Shiro gave a soft grin. “You were a bit clumsier than usual, but that was a good fight.”

“Yeah well, you try having a 12-inch growth spurt and see how you do.” Keith scoffed, taking hold of the extended palm.

“Some people would call that a foot.” Shiro teased, ignoring the scowl he received in return as he hoisted the half-Galra to his feet. “Come on, let’s go sit against the wall for a bit and we can have a talk. I brought you a juice pouch.”

“Fine,” Keith sighed, “only because you brought the juice pouch.” 

Brushing himself off, Keith walked to the side of the training deck and slid himself down against the wall, allowing his tail to flick restlessly to one side. Shiro crouched down next to him, reaching into the satchel on his belt and pulling out the promised drink.

Keith practically snatched the foil bag from his brother, piercing it with the straw and taking in a long, continuous sip. The pouch began to crumple in on itself as Keith rapidly drained the liquid from it, only stopping when the straw made a hollow slurping sound.

After a refreshed exhale, the Blade turned to face Shiro as he spoke. “…So, why’d you come to the training room, anyway?”

“Knew you’d be here.” Shiro smirked, cradling his arms over his knees comfortably. “You always train when you’re stressed, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re extremely stressed right now.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good reason to be.” Keith sulked.

“I know; it’s hard to deal with things that are out of your control. But don’t forget, you’ve got a whole team behind you. We’re all here to support you through whatever the outcome is, so don’t be afraid to ask for help. You don’t have to deal with this alone – even though I know you’re very good at that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Look, I know everyone’s there for me – don’t worry, Lance won’t stop reminding me about it. But you’re all saying you’ll support me ‘whatever the outcome is’, and that’s just it! Nobody seems to have any idea what the outcome will be. They don’t seem to know what’s wrong with me, or why this is happening, and I just have to deal with it. I have to deal with this body that doesn’t even look like me anymore, all these horrible, painful changes, and act like that doesn’t have any fucking effect on me.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Keith. Nothing that has happened to you has been fair.” Shiro placed his robotic hand on the other boy’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Look, I know…what it’s like to feel as though your body isn’t really yours. It’s difficult, having people tell you that it doesn’t matter, that you’re still you, but you’re not.”

Keith stared understandingly at his brother, watching his eyebrows form a thin crease as he remembered the experience.

“It might take you a while, but you eventually learn to accept it. You learn that no matter what happens, or how you might change, you’re still the same person on the inside. It’s the same for you – you might have purple skin, or claws, even a tail now, but you’re still Keith.”

“Still your socially-constipated little brother, you mean?” Keith laughed dryly, leaning his head against Shiro’s shoulder. “…Thanks, though. I think I needed to hear that from you.”

As the two remained sitting there together in comfortable silence, Keith felt more relaxed in his brother’s familiar presence than he had in a long while. It was nice, regaining even a little of that normalcy again. 

Shiro sighed pensively, tilting his head so that it rested on Keith’s own. “You know, I can’t help but feel like I’ve let you down these past few months.”

“–’s fine.” Keith shrugged. “I’m the one who ran away from the team just so that I could keep the whole Galra thing a secret from everyone.”

“Still, I should have noticed something was wrong. I’m just…I’m glad you at least had Lance looking out for you. He’s a good kid.”

“Kid? God, you sound so old saying that.” Keith’s mouth curved up into a playful smirk, and he bumped the Black Paladin with his elbow. Evening his expression, he pushed off the wall and hunched forward, staring down meditatively at his palms as he continued. “But…I’m glad, too. It wasn’t like I even meant for him to find out first, but I just don’t know if things would’ve ended as well if I didn’t have Lance there with me. He just made me feel like…like I wasn’t some sort of monster. Like I could be accepted, even like this.”

Shiro was quick to notice the faint blush that dusted Keith’s cheeks as he talked candidly about the brunette. With a perceptive glint in his eye, he leaned over his brother’s shoulder and whispered slyly “…You sure do sound a lot fonder of Lance than you used to be.”

“Wh–! We’ve just been spending a lot of time together lately! He’s still– he can be annoying!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Shiro nodded sarcastically, his eyebrow quirking upward knowingly. 

“I’m serious! All he does is talk about his family, and how he wants me to visit them in Cuba now or something– oh, and how much better he’s getting at fighting? Like yeah, he’s improved, but he obviously thinks he can beat me now which is ridiculous, and…and he’s so vain! Like geez, he’s not even that good-looking!” Keith rambled, his pout deepening as he tried to desperately pretend Lance really wasn’t all that.

“Alright, I get it!” Shiro chuckled, holding up his hands in submission. He wondered for a moment if Keith was even aware of how blatantly in denial he sounded right now.

Deciding he’d pushed his younger brother’s buttons enough, Shiro tucked his feet under his body and pulled himself up from the training room floor. He began making his way out, but turned his head back to make one last remark.

“You know, you should tell Lance how you feel. Like, how you really feel, not the crap you just told me.” Shiro’s eyes flickered smugly. “You might be surprised by the response you get.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Keith huffed, crossing his arms and jerking his head away in the opposite direction. He pointedly ignored the fading sound of footsteps as the Black Paladin exited the training deck.

With an irritated grumble, Keith rolled onto his side, relishing in the feeling of cold metal pressed up against his cheek. His hair splayed out behind his head like a halo of black, while his tail swished dreamily against his legs.

He didn’t have any…feelings…for Lance. The way that he thought about the other boy – about his deep azure eyes, his sun-kissed skin, the delicate curve of his jawline – was normal, right?

 “…Shit.”

Chapter Text

If there was one thing that Keith hated about Shiro, it was the fact that he was always right. He’d been right about Keith passing his entrance exams to the Galaxy Garrison. He’d been right about him being a worthy successor – at least in the Black Lion’s eyes – to the title of Voltron’s leader. And now, as the Blade laid uncomfortably on the training room floor, he knew that Shiro was right about Lance, too.

Keith was…he was falling for him. Fallen already, really – he now realized that the warm fluttering in his chest whenever he was around the brunette suddenly made so much sense.

“Ughhh,” he groaned feebly under his breath. Why did it have to be Lance? Well, he knew the answer to that. There was his silky caramel hair; his golden skin, peppered with freckles. There were his thin fingers, and the broadness of his shoulders. There was his laugh, light and airy like the tinkling of a wind chime, and the shallow dimples that revealed themselves alongside it.

…But it was more than all of that; more than the way the Red Paladin looked. It was the way he made Keith feel – like he cared about him. Understood him. Lance always knew what he needed to hear, even when he didn’t want to hear it. He knew when Keith needed a pick-me-up, or just someone’s shoulder to cry on. He made Keith feel like, for the first time in years, he wasn’t quite so alone. How ironic it was, that he had to travel millions of light-years from home to feel that.

Throwing one arm dramatically over his head, Keith rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself up off the ground. He already had enough on his plate right now – it wasn’t the time to be thinking about something as stupid as a crush. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could even just forget about the whole thing entirely.

That’s right, Keith reassured himself, as he strolled out of the training deck and headed down the corridor; if I just stop thinking about Lance like that, the feeling will probably go away. After all, Keith was pretty much an expert now at suppressing unwanted emotions – or at least bottling them up for an unhealthily long amount of time. He was fine.

Since he figured he’d been training long enough for it to be dinner time, the Blade made his way over to the dining hall. As he reached the doorway, the smell of warm goo filled his nostrils. It was everything Keith could do to restrain himself from salivating on the spot – he was starving, as he had been since yesterday. Burning through so much energy today had only worsened his hunger, and his gut churned eagerly at the very thought of food.

Quickly, Keith placed a placating hand over his stomach. He didn’t want to repeat the embarrassment of yesterday; the alarmed stares of his teammates at the speed he devoured his meal were more than enough the first time around. It would be okay, he could control himself – hopefully it really was just the build-up of a week spent foodless in the healing pod. 

Peering into the room, Keith could see that he was first to arrive at the dining table. He could hear the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, which he figured was probably Hunk setting up the final touches of their meal. Feeling weird at the thought of just sitting down by himself, the half-Galra awkwardly stuck his head into the kitchen.

“…Hey, Hunk. You uh, need any help with anything?” 

“Oh, Keith! Your timing couldn’t be better – here, can you take these to the table while I plate everything up?” The Yellow Paladin gestured towards a tray of drinks sitting beside an assorted mound of cutlery.

“No problem.” Keith hummed, grabbing both and carrying them back out to the table.

He placed the tray in the middle for the time being, and began circling the chairs to place a knife and a fork in front of everyone’s seat. The Blade meticulously positioned each utensil, straightening them neatly as he went. He kept his attention squarely focused what he was doing, to avoid letting any intrusive thoughts slip past his concentration.

“You know, forks are actually supposed to go on the left side.” A recognizably smug voice cut through Keith’s thoughts. In response, the half-Galra tipped his head up from the dining setting and scowled at its owner.

“Don’t care, Lance,” he said curtly. His hand hesitated as he went to put down another pronged utensil, but he planted it to the right anyway in overt defiance.

“Haha, sorry! Sorry. I was only teasing,” Lance recanted apologetically. “Here, I’ll help.” The brunette picked up the tray from the centre of the table and began placing a glass in front of each dining setting. Keith swore he saw the other boy contemplate swapping the cutlery around for a moment, but was flattered that he seemingly decided against it.

Before Lance had arrived, Keith had thought the silence in the room had been somewhat pleasant. Now, however, it hung over him like the sharpened blade of a guillotine. Say something! his thoughts yelled; don’t say something! they replied in contradiction. After his talk with Shiro, there was absolutely no way he could hold a normal conversation with Lance right now. A nervous sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Lance whispered with a certain carefulness; “is…is everything alright?”

“Um, yeah. I guess I’m fine.” Keith turned his head away quickly to conceal the pinkness of his cheeks.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

No, I absolutely don’t, his brain promptly responded, but Lance continued before he could verbalise it.

“I mean, whatever Coran told you is ultimately none of my business, but if you want to get some of it off your chest then…you know, I’m here.” 

…Oh. So that’s what Lance was talking about. Keith discreetly let out a sigh of relief at the connection.

“Right, yeah. Well uh…he’s got no idea why my body’s changing, basically. Which is…you know, it’s pretty shit.” The half-Galra fidgeted with the last knife in his hands, spinning it between his fingertips. “But he found some weird mutated quintessence in those samples from yesterday, so he said that he wants us to go to some planet where they can analyse them further, or something.”

“Oh, well that’s good then, right?” 

Keith shrugged dejectedly. “Maybe. The way Coran explained it though, it sounded like doing that wasn’t going to actually help fix me.”

“You’re not broken, Keith,” Lance sighed, moving around the table to place a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s just see what happens, okay? You’re not dying, and all this stress isn’t good for you. I know it’s not easy, but…” The brunette gave Keith’s arm a gentle squeeze, using his thumb to draw small circles along his bicep. “…Please, at least try to look after yourself.”

The Blade gave a light scoff. “Yeah, I know. Seems like everyone’s telling me that lately.” Still, the sentiment made Keith feel at least a little better – or maybe it was the contact of Lance’s skin through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He could feel the pleasant tingle of goosebumps prickling down his spine, and his tail swayed languidly at the touch.

“Whoa, uh…am I interrupting something?” Hunk said, startling Keith from his state of dreaminess.

“Only our insatiable appetites – that smells uh-mazing, Hunk.” Lance chuckled, sliding his palm away and walking towards the Yellow Paladin to offer his assistance.

The warmth in his chest soured slightly, and Keith felt an unexpected pang of jealousy at how easily the Red Paladin’s attention had been stolen away. He had to bite his lip to remind himself that Lance didn’t know how he felt. The two of them were friends, and that was all. Keith didn’t have any right to special treatment.

As he stood back self-consciously and watched Lance and Hunk dish up everyone’s dinner, the rest of the team filed into the dining hall on schedule. A few cheery greetings were thrown his way, which he returned with a forced smile, before everyone eventually took their seats at the table. Keith found himself in his usual spot between Hunk and Lance, and he tried his best to not let his eyes drift to the latter.

“Alright everyone, before we start eating, I do have a few updates to share with you all.” Allura stood at the head of the table, drawing the team’s attention.

Keith’s fingers fidgeted impatiently with the handle of his fork – he was still famished, after all.

“Firstly, congratulations to everyone on a successful week. Not only did Pidge and Hunk deal with the Empire strike on Dziban; Shiro and Lance also handled the Eluvian fleet distress signal with exceptional teamwork. We also have Coran and Matt to thank for fixing the damage to the ship’s thermal regulators during our passage through the Gatria System. Well done, all of you.” The Princess clapped her hands together enthusiastically as she continued. “Now, as for where we’ll be headed next – Coran and I have spoken about our next strategic move, as well as…other factors…” her eyes darted conspicuously towards Keith, making the boy squirm uncomfortably. “…And we believe our next course of action must be a visit to Kalkara. I’ll allow Coran to fill you in on the details.”

Coran rose from his seat to take over, his moustache curving upwards with his grin. “Right, yes! Now, Kalkara have been longstanding-members of the coalition, so this trip will be about strengthening those relations and utilizing their support to gain the upper-hand against Zarkon’s army.”

As the advisor launched into a strategy lesson, Keith’s eyes narrowed at the current topic of discussion – whether or not the rest of the team was in the loop, he knew that the real reason they were going to Kalkara was him. Even if Allura wasn’t choosing to compromise their next move for his sake, and there were other benefits to visiting the planet, this whole charade felt like one big guilt-trip. The saliva pooling in his mouth took on a bitter tang at the thought.

“–So, that’s the general gist of things! It’ll be approximately 4 quintents before we arrive, so plenty of time for us to prepare our arrangements in Kalkara.”

“Thanks, Coran, Allura.” Shiro said on behalf of the team as the Altean returned to his seat. “Now, with our next move out of the way, let’s eat.”

Keith said a silent prayer to Shiro for leaving no room for questions, and picked up his fork to dig in. He hesitated for a moment, however, the utensil hovering just above his plate of food. He didn’t want to cause a scene again, after all, so he was going to have to pace himself a little. Consciously, the Blade took a shallow scoop of goo and held it in front of his lips. He gingerly slid it into his mouth, slowly dragging his teeth down the metal prongs to make sure he didn’t miss a single speck.

He repeated this careful process for the rest of his meal, casting a glance at his friends’ dishes every now and then to make sure he wasn’t eating too quickly. Keith felt perhaps a little crazy being so obsessive with his eating habits, but it was certainly better than the embarrassment of the alternati– oh. He was…finished already? He thought he was only halfway through his meal. Keith’s gut twisted uncomfortably – he wasn’t even close to full yet.

“Phew! Thanks for the dee-licious food as always, Hunk! I’m stuffed!” Matt announced, patting his stomach for emphasis.

He said he was stuffed, Keith panicked; I can’t ask for more food. He knew that Hunk usually cooked their meals in batches, so there’d be enough for him to have seconds…but he just couldn’t do it. He knew it was silly, that he was being paranoid. If he was still hungry then he should eat more, right? But his lips refused to cooperate, remaining tightly shut as the request was pushed to the back of his throat.

“Thanks for dinner, I think I’m gonna go to bed early.” The half-Galra blurted out instead. He picked up his tableware and slid them into the dish chute along the back wall by the kitchen, before taking his leave.

Walking down the hall to his room, Keith clicked his tongue in frustration. He couldn’t seem to control his thoughts about Lance. Allura was compromising Voltron’s mission for his sake. And his hunger seemed to be unappeasable at this point, with his own pride preventing him from any form of resolution. The problems were piling up one after another, and Keith felt utterly powerless to stop them.

Sliding open his bedroom door, Keith strolled inside and unceremoniously flopped down face-first onto his mattress. The bed was still unmade from a week ago, when he and Lance had last sat there together – he could still detect the faintest scent of sickly-sweet cake crumbs hidden between the folds of the duvet.

…Great, now he was thinking about Lance and making himself hungry again. He rubbed his face furiously into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of his own damn thoughts for a minute. Peeling his t-shirt over his head, he threw the garment across the room haphazardly and rolled onto his side. He used the pointed tip of his fingernail to flick the light switch at his bedside and screwed his eyes closed. Fine, he sulked to himself, I won’t be able to stew about things if I’m asleep. 

Despite his tossing and turning, Keith was thankful that he’d always been quick to drift off. It was only about ten minutes before the half-Galra was in a deep slumber, his soft snores filling the otherwise silent room. He was never particularly good at remembering his dreams, but tonight he was certain they were filled with the colour blue.

--

Unfortunately, Keith’s sleep didn’t quite last as long as he’d hoped. He found himself snapped awake by a fuzzy taste in his mouth – as his consciousness slowly returned, he realized it was because he’d been trying to eat the end of his own tail.

“For fuck’s sake!” He growled, flinging the sheets away with his feet. Keith’s rampage was interrupted, however, by a painful churn in his gut. He winced, and his clawed hands immediately clutched at his sides. The gurgling in his stomach was intense, feeling more like a runner’s stitch than hunger pangs. Keith knew he couldn’t ignore it – he needed to eat something now.

Fumbling for his shirt in the dark, the Blade managed to dress himself before making his way over to the door. His hands were guided by the light of the keypad easily enough, and soon the quiet whoosh of sliding metal signaled his exit.

With his hands still clasped firmly around his sides, Keith stealthily padded down the corridor. He treated this moment no differently than a mission, pausing to check around each corner to make sure the coast was clear. While the loud rumbling of his stomach was admittedly less discreet than he’d have liked, he hadn’t encountered anyone so far.

Following the neon strips on the floor, Keith eventually made it to the dining hall. The room looked much more ominous at night, dimly bathed in teal-coloured light. The Blade stooped low and hugged the walls as he moved to the back of the room, slipping discreetly into the kitchen. He could feel his pulse accelerating in his chest, and rubbed the heel of his palm tenderly into the spot to soothe it.

God, is this how low he’d sunk? Just when he was finally starting to feel in control of his body again, his stomach decided to start tearing itself apart – he felt he had no choice but to concede to its demands. Gripping at the cool silver handle of the refrigerator, Keith yanked the appliance door open. The various bottles and jars inside rattled loudly from the sudden force. Piercing violet eyes scanned over the fridge’s contents, before settling on what they were searching for.

A large, see-through tub was tucked away in the back, sandwiched between a tray of half-eaten gelatin cubes and a bottle of what appeared to be ketchup – not that Keith would actually trust that assumption. He carefully tried to slide the container forward, but struggled to hold everything else out of its path. His wrist bumped against what looked like a champagne flute filled with pond slime, and his heart stopped as he saw the thin glass falling through the air in slow motion. Without thinking, the half-Galra’s body moved to catch it – instinctively, it was his tail that managed to wrap itself around the glass stem before it tipped over completely.

Breathing heavily, Keith looked down at himself, coiled around the object with his own foreign appendage. No, that wasn’t right; it was…part of him, wasn’t it? Surely that meant he could control it. Staring at his tail with deep concentration, he willed it to move at his command. The reaction was slow and shaky, but inch by inch, the Blade managed to guide his tail into returning the glass to its shelf in the refrigerator.

“I…I did it,” he muttered under his breath disbelievingly. His hands trembled with a strange sense of elation at the accomplishment. Feeling a little bolder, Keith twisted his tail deep into the fridge. He maneuvered it between the many obstacles within, using his hands to keep the assortment of questionable foods and beverages at bay, before he managed to finally pull the clear tub out from inside of it.

Keith dumped the container into his arms, holding proudly against his chest. In a way, he almost felt justified in enjoying the spoils of his efforts tonight. Kicking the refrigerator door closed, the half-Galra carried the hefty tub over to the kitchen bench, hoisting himself up to sit on top of it. He crossed his legs beneath himself, and hooked a sharp finger under the lid as he peeled it carefully open. Inside was a dense brick of food goo, compacted by the sheer quantity that Hunk had apparently crammed into it. Keith could feel himself begin to salivate – this had to be at least three days’ worth of food for the entire team.

Just a little bit, Keith mentally warned himself; not so much that anyone’ll notice it’s missing. The Blade dipped an experimental pinky into the green goo – it was still a little warm in the centre. Bringing the digit up to his lips, he licked the slimy substance from his fingertip. The moment it hit his taste buds, Keith’s pupils practically dilated from the overwhelming pleasure. God, he needed this. His stomach gurgled in delight as he impulsively scooped up a handful of goo and slammed it into his gaping mouth.

Before he could reign in his enthusiasm, Keith was soon shoveling more and more food into his gut. The thick clumps of slime, which were crispy on the outside but sticky on the inside, slid down the back of his throat like syrup. Keith’s tail wormed its way around his body to participate, wrapping itself around the container to allow his other hand to assist with scooping. The half-Galra was ravenous, like a hungry beast had taken over – and he had submitted himself willingly to it. Keith could feel flecks of goo clinging to his arms, but that didn’t matter. Nothing was going to interrupt his midnight snack.

“Holy sh–…Keith?!” The shrill screech made the Blade freeze in his tracks.

“L–Lance! I, um–! It’s not…!” He flicked his hands into the plastic tub, attempting to shake off the incriminating lumps of goo. “…Please don’t tell the rest of the team about this,” he groaned.

The Red Paladin was currently standing in the doorway, dressed in his silky Altean bed robes – Keith couldn’t help but regard how nice they looked against Lance’s tanned skin. His jaw was agape with alarm at the sight of Keith crouched on top of the kitchen bench, eating out of a tub with his bare hands.

“You…look really freaky in the dark, you know that? Your eyes are doing that weird glinting thing with the light, like a cat.” Lance held his fingers up around his eyes like circles to illustrate his point. “But more importantly, are you…scoffing that whole container of food goo right now?”

Keith tipped the tub away from Lance’s gaze defensively. “Not all of it! There’s…there’s still some left!” His eyebrows furrowed a little as he caught sight of the plastic bottom out of the corner of his eye.

Shaking his head, Lance gave a light chuckle. “Sure, okay.” He walked closer to the kitchen bench, holding the length of his robes to the side as he hoisted himself up next to the Blade. It was almost strange to notice how much higher his feet dangled off the ground than Keith’s had.

Picking at the rim of the container with his fingernail, the half-Galra let out an ashamed sigh. “…Why are you still awake, anyway?”

“W-well…I could ask you the same thing.” Lance stated defensively, although there was no venom behind it.

“Pfft, don’t give me that.” Keith rolled his eyes, gesturing to the half-eaten tub of goo. “I think it’s pretty obvious why I’m up.”

“Heh, I guess.” Lance’s expression softened fondly. “I just…I couldn’t really fall asleep tonight. Or more like I did, but then I had a dream that I was back home, and my family were all there; we were all sitting and laughing together, and I guess I…” The brunette let out a shuddering breath. “…I felt homesick. After that woke me up, it was hard to just close my eyes and drift off again.”

Keith cast a sympathetic gaze at the other boy, hesitating for a moment before he placed a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I’m…I’m sorry.” 

“–‘s fine. We all have things back on Earth that we miss.” Lance shrugged the hand away, using his own to rub at his watery eyes. “Maybe I’m just a bit of a baby, since I seem to be the only one who can’t keep their feelings about it in check.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Keith huffed. “The way you feel isn’t anybody else’s business – if you’re sad, then be sad. You’re allowed to be upset about whatever the hell you want.”

“Heh, that’s pretty rich, coming from you,” Lance scoffed playfully.

“Oh whatever,” Keith sulked, crossing his arms to distract from the way the corner of his mouth had discreetly quirked into a smile. It was weird to be joking around with Lance like this again. Sitting here in the dark hours of the morning, so close that their knees brushed together every time the brunette’s leg bounced – the kitchen was so quiet that he could hear the other boy’s gentle breaths; the soft thumping of his heartbeat.

“Uh…d-do you want some of this?” Keith said skittishly, trying to shake himself from his mesmerized thoughts by holding out the large plastic container in proposal.

“Well, I guess you have already eaten half of it anyway,” Lance teased. “I’m not an animal though; I think I’ll get a spoon.” The Red Paladin flipped his legs over to the other side of the counter, leaning forward to reach into the drawer next to his ankles. He managed to procure the utensil, balancing it carefully between his fingers as he used his foot to close the drawer behind him. 

Lance leaned forward, scooping up a glob of green and moving it towards his lips. Keith tried to suppress the warmth that rose to his cheeks at the feeling of the brunette’s body heat mingling with the surface of his skin. Lance pulled away casually and flipped the spoon over, making a wet sucking noise as he slurped the wobbly goo from it.

“Man, Hunk is a damn good cook.” The brunette practically moaned. Keith blushed at the sound of it – he didn’t know why Lance had to make so many noises while he ate. 

“S-so uh, I noticed your cast is gone.” The Blade changed the subject, pointing a sticky finger at the Red Paladin’s right hand.

“Mm!” Lance hummed through the mouthful of food, before pulling the spoon from his mouth with a loud pop. “Yeah, Coran took it off while you were in the healing pod! It’s so good to be able to actually just hold things again, you have no idea.”

“I’m happy for you,” Keith laughed. “I, um, figured out I can hold stuff too – with my tail, I mean.” The limb gave a small swish, before curling around the Blade’s forearm. “I’m still kinda working it out, but you know.”

“Whaaaat! That’s so cool, Keith! Oh my god!” Lance’s eyes lit up like stars at the feat. “I’m…I’m glad you’re getting used to the whole tail thing. Like, I’m not trying to undermine your trauma over here or anything, but seriously – really damn cool.”

“You would say that about having a weird space-tail,” Keith smirked. “I’ve seen you making flirty eyes with all of the aliens we’ve been meeting since day one.” He ignored the slight pang of jealousy in the back of his mind.

“Well aliens are the only people out here, that’s hardly my fault. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing on Earth.” Lance shuffled closer, lowering his voice as he took another small scoop of goo from the tub in Keith’s lap. “I mean…I don’t really do it because I expect them to go on a date with me or anything – it’s just always kinda been my thing, you know?” Instead of moving the spoon up to his lips, the brunette continued to swirl it pensively around the tub. “Back at home, Marco was always the sporty kid, Luis was the artsy kid, Veronica was the smart kid, and…I was the flirty kid. When my uncle visited, he would always pat my head and ask if I had a girlfriend yet.” 

“You…don’t have to do stuff like that just to impress other people, you know.”

Lance scoffed lightly. “You grew up as an only child, so you wouldn’t understand. Having to compete for attention, being compared to your siblings all the time – it just sucks, okay?”

“Well, you’re out here saving the whole fucking universe, so I think that’s gotta count for something.”

“Heh, maybe. Not that they even know where I am right now.” The Red Paladin dropped his spoon into the clear tub and used his sleeve to wipe at his eyes. “…I miss everyone so much. All I want to do is tell them I’m alive, that I’m okay – but I can’t. I know what we’re doing is important, and I’m not saying I want to just abandon Voltron, but I just…want to see them again.”

“…I know.” Keith sighed. He wished that he could be more comforting, but consoling people had never really been one of his strong suits. Still, Lance had been there for him throughout this entire ordeal; it was the least he could do to at least try and return the favour, right?

Pausing for a moment, he gently placed the mostly-empty food container to one side and held his hands out awkwardly towards the Red Paladin. “Um…so uh, whenever I’ve been upset lately, you’ve always given me a hug until I felt better. Do you…want to…?”

A nervous sweat clung to the back of Keith’s neck, and he held his position anxiously as the question lingered in the air. He could barely believe what he was asking right now, but the thought of holding Lance in his arms was…nice. What he wasn’t exactly expecting, however, was for the brunette to suddenly launch himself at the half-Galra’s chest, tackling him against the solid surface of the kitchen bench. Keith’s legs flailed about desperately, squeezing around the sides of the counter to stop the two of them from sliding off of it.

Lance’s hands snaked tightly around his waist, and he nuzzled into the crook of the Blade’s neck. He didn’t make any sounds, but his frame was tensed snugly against Keith’s own as though it was the only thing still holding him together.

“…Thank you.” Lance rasped, his soft hair tickling at the Blade’s throat as he swallowed thickly. 

“N-n-no problem.” Keith stuttered out, his cheeks burning so hot that he thought his head was about to explode.

Keith was dying – he was actually dying right now. He’d stopped breathing the moment Lance’s head had hit his chest, and the weight of the brunette’s entire body pressed against him had sent him into cardiac arrest. This had been a stupid, terrible…amazing idea. 

The two boys laid on the kitchen bench in comfortable – or in Keith’s case, nervous – silence for a while, Lance’s grip eventually loosening into a more tender embrace. Keith’s frozen limbs had relaxed somewhat, and he awkwardly draped his hands over the brunette’s broad shoulders. Soothingly, he ran his fingernails up and down the other boy’s spine, pondering to himself that maybe, actually, he could get used to this.

Gently, Lance began to slide himself off Keith’s chest, sitting back on his heels between the half-Galra’s legs. His fingers played with the hem of his robes idly. “Sorry, I uh…guess I needed that more than I thought I did.”

“Don’t be,” Keith said, lifting himself onto his elbows. “I, um…I want to be there for you, like you’ve been for me.”

Lance smiled warmly. “…Thanks.” He dragged his hand across his forehead, brushing back the bangs that had stuck there from being sandwiched against the half-Galra’s chest.

In the dimly-lit room, Keith couldn’t help but notice how the brunette was practically glowing. His hair swirled around his ears like dark ocean waves, and flecks of teal from the room were picked up in his eyes, reflected back like sparks of lightning against his deep blue irises. His long, fluttering eyelashes cast shadows against his cheeks, which even in the darkness looked soft and rosy. It felt like Keith had been blind to never realize just how beautiful he was.

“Oh, you uh…you’ve got a huge blob of goo on your face.” Lance laughed, breaking the silence. He leaned forward, extending his thumb slightly. “Let me get that for you.” 

The thin silhouette of Lance’s wrist moved towards Keith’s cheek, and he jumped a little as warm fingertips rubbed lightly down the edge of his lip. Lance was close – he was too close. Keith’s heart felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest. His emotions were swirling around in his stomach, forcing their way up his throat like projectile vomit– 

“Y–You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh.” Lance visibly withered at the comment. “I’m…sorry?”

“NO, wait, that came out wrong!” Mortified, Keith ground has hands into his face. How had he messed that up so bad? “W-what I mean is that I…that I think I’m in l–love with you–”

BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!

Keith’s confession was abruptly cut off by the ship’s blaring emergency siren. They both knew what it meant – the castle was under attack.

Lance’s eyes were blown wide, and his mouth hung open in shock. He looked at Keith with an indecipherable expression, flicking his gaze back and forth between the door. Then, without warning, he quickly slid down off the bench and sprinted out of the room towards the direction of the hangar.

Keith remained motionless on top of the counter, staring at the doorway as sirens continued to wail around him. Despite the panic or alarm that he should have been feeling, he couldn’t move – his brain was filled with nothing but static. There was just one thing he was certain of.

Lance had definitely heard him.

Chapter Text

The sound of a siren buzzed around Keith’s head, distantly. His ears rang with the hollow echoes of imminent threat. But it didn’t matter to him – not right now. Not when he had just poured his heart out to Lance, only for the other boy to wordlessly walk away. Well, sprint away, really; the ship’s emergency siren did tend to evoke a sense of urgency.

But really, of course Lance hadn’t said anything. What was Keith expecting? For the brunette to tell him that he loved him back? The bitter tang of bile rose to the back of his throat – why did he let himself be so naïve, for that one moment? So vulnerable – so stupid.

A pained hiccup forced its way past the curl of Keith’s lips, and he dug the pads of his fingers painfully into his eyes to hold back the budding tears. This is why you’re not supposed to let people in. He berated himself. This is why you’re not allowed to care about anyone else.

This is why you keep getting hurt.

Abruptly, the roar of thrusters shook the entire room, and the half-Galra’s limbs flailed uselessly as he tumbled off the kitchen counter. The sudden rush of adrenaline did little to dull the impact of his head thumping against one of the bench corners.

“Shit!” He seethed, rubbing tenderly at the side of his head – there’d definitely be a lump there later. The rude jostling did, however, remind Keith that they were in the middle of an unknown emergency right now, and that he probably wasn’t particularly safe just having a crisis in the kitchen with whatever was going on outside.

Pulling himself up from the floor, Keith steeled his thoughts and staggered towards the doorway. Upon exiting the room, a wall of noise hit him – the long corridors echoed with electronic wails that were being broadcasted through the speakers lining the ceiling. As he began running urgently down the halls, the cacophony swirling around him was rather nauseating, to say the least. Or maybe he was still just feeling sick after what happened with Lance.

The rumbling that was previously smothered by the emergency alarm became louder as the half-Galra drew closer to the bridge, and as he rounded the corner, he was blinded by the sudden white flash of gunfire lighting up the windows.

“Ah, Keith! There you are, thank goodness!” Coran cheered, though his smile was broken by a sharp jolt to the entire room. The Altean gripped the main console to stabilize himself, while Keith was left to tumble over helplessly yet again.

“Whoa, I’ve got you!” Gloved hands held onto the Blade’s shoulders to stop his fall. Looking down at the mop of messy brown hair brushing against his chest, he recognized that it was Matt who had managed to catch him.

“Thanks,” he acknowledged, leaning back onto his own feet. “Anyway, more importantly – what the hell’s going on out there?” 

“I wish I had a certain answer for you on that one! Or, well, I suppose I do –” Coran stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “We’re certainly being attacked right now.”

Keith’s eyes widened, unamused. “Yeah, I can see that. Where’s Voltron?”

“They’re out there already,” Matt said, pointing to the window right as the Blue Lion zipped past. “They haven’t had a chance to combine yet, though.”

“Why not? Zarkon’s army is attacking us – it should be our first move, every time!”

“Well, that’s just it…It’s not the Empire who’s attacking us right now.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Keith jogged further into the bridge until he was close enough to press his face against the glass. It was then that he could see it wasn’t a Galra cruiser firing the hostile blasts at them.

The massive assault carrier before them looked old and slightly junky; its greased-stained panels were lined with asteroid dents and even some crude alien graffiti Keith couldn’t read from the distance. Despite their rather dilapidated-looking ship, however, their enemy’s weaponry looked incredibly new and high-tech. A mounted light cannon was pounding shot after shot at the scattered lions, while smaller artillery at the ship’s underside rained down on the Castle’s particle barrier.

“Who the hell are these guys?” Keith prodded a finger at the glass, squishing them angrily beneath his digit.

“We have good reason to believe it’s space pirates,” Coran stated evenly. “It’d explain why they weren’t immediately detected as an enemy ship by our radar, especially if they’re using some sort of jammer.”

“That’s pretty common for pirates,” Matt agreed. “But why would they be picking a fight with us? Pirates don’t tend be after much else besides money, so they usually prey on smaller cruisers or poorly-armed freighters. For them to go out of their way to take on a ship like ours…”

As if on cue, the main communication screen blipped to life across the window, sending Keith stumbling backwards in alarm. Projected only inches from his face was the image of a broad-faced alien with putrid yellow-ish skin, littered with splotches of dirt and oil. Dark, matted locks of hair curled around two strange nubs, too rounded to call horns, that protruded from his forehead, and his three eyes, one of which appeared to have been blinded, blinked eerily out of sync. The ghastly beast gave a wicked smile, revealing the way his jagged teeth pinched around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. 

“Ah, Voltron. So nice to see your communication channels are so poorly guarded.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Keith snarled, arching his back up aggressively.

“Hah, well aren’t you a rude one – I wasn’t aware that the Alliance didn’t practice manners! Now I’m not so sure I want you lot overthrowing the Empire after all…” The alien gave a snide chuckle, narrowing his eyes as he stared directly at Keith. The half-Galra did everything he could not to squirm under the threatening gaze. “Still, I suppose an introduction isn’t out of the question. The name’s Vreig, and I believe you stole something of mine.”

“Now wait just a moment, I won’t stand for such baseless accusations!” Coran puffed his chest out defensively. “The Voltron Alliance aren’t thieves!”

“Is that so?” Vreig scoffed. “Then I guess it must’ve been a different Lion-shaped spaceship that was last seen in the Proxima quadrant, stuck to the underside of a navigation cruiser in the Empire’s cargo fleet. Must’ve been someone else that raided that shipment and hijacked all of the precious quintessence on board…is that right?”

“The Galra are the ones stealing the quintessence from other planets in the first place!” Matt fumed, throwing up his arms as he yelled back at the screen. “More importantly, if it doesn’t belong to the Empire then it definitely doesn’t belong to you!” 

All three of Vreig’s eyes widened at the statement. An uncomfortable silence lingered for a short moment, before a wry snicker crept softly through the communicator speakers. The bubbles of laugher built, until the alien suddenly broke into a full, belly-shaking roar.

The three Alliance members stood tensely, confused, as they waited for the cackling to subside. Keith really wished he hadn’t blacked out for the tail end of that Proxima fleet mission now; maybe he’d actually understand whatever the hell this Vreig guy was talking about.

Wiping a tear from his cheek with a grimy finger, the yellow alien sighed out his last chuckle. “Oh man, that was a real good one, kid. You guys really don’t know jack shit about the planets you think you’re ‘liberating’, do you? Pretty bold to just assume we’re all poor, defenseless widdle aliens having all our planet’s quintessence stolen by the big bad Galra.” Vreig put on a babyish voice for effect. 

“Do you mean to say you’re…handing over your planet’s quintessence to the Galra willingly?”

“Hell no, we ain’t just giving the stuff away! Turns out, if you look after all the busy-work, the Empire’s more than happy to pay a pretty penny for it.”

“But it’s your fucking planet!” Keith blurted out angrily. “How can you be okay with something like that? That’s your…it’s your god damn home, and you’re destroying it just for a few thousand GAC?”

“Hah, try a lot more than a few thousand. Not that you know anything of what you’re talking about, but our people’s history was filled with nothing but famine and poverty before the war – or at least, before we established trade links with the Galra. In fact, the Empire’s interest in our natural resources is the only thing that’s kept our planet alive this long in the first place!” Vreig threaded his fingers together, resting them beneath his chin meditatively. “Right now, we got a good thing going with those purple puffballs. Real good. That’s exactly why I don’t appreciate Voltron getting their grubby little hands involved.” His statement was punctuated by the crash of canon fire outside, followed by a sharp yelp through the Castleship’s transceiver.

“Ugh! Guys, I don’t think my lion can take another hit like that!” Pidge groaned.

“What we need to do is regroup – Shiro, what are your orders?” Allura said urgently.

“We need to find an opening, there’s no way we can shake these guys without Voltron. Hunk, Lance, are either of you able to divert their attention so that we can all converge?”

“No good Shiro, I’m pinned down over here!”

“Me–ugh!” The crackling of cannon fire hissed through the speakers. “–Me too, sorry! Man, these guys just don’t let up!” Lance grunted angrily.

“My, my. Are my men giving the mighty Paladins of Voltron such a hard time? To think how embarrassed Zarkon’s men would be if they could see this – how easy it was to bring the Alliance to its knees.”

“You think we’re on our knees?!” Keith hissed. “You’re gonna be fucking sorr–”

“Keith.” Coran stated in a dangerous tone. The half-Galra bit his tongue at the uncharacteristic bluntness coming from the Altean advisor. After a tense pause, he continued. “…What is it that you want? If you’re after the quintessence, we don’t have it. We’ve already passed it on to the rebel colonies in need of resources.”

Vreig eyes twitched slightly. “Well, I’ll admit that’s disappointing. But then again, perhaps your heads would be a worthy substitute.” Leaning back in his chair, the alien reached off-screen and retrieved a small silver device. Holding his thumb over the top of it, he uncrossed his legs, stretching one of them directly in front of the camera. “Yes, I think the Empire’ll get a real kick outta that. And knowing the cargo’s not on board makes this a whole lot easier, so thanks for the heads-up.” With that, Vreig gave a twist of his ankle, and the projection abruptly fizzed to black. 

Keith wordlessly stared back at the others in the bridge. Apparently, their enemy was finished talking.

“…This can’t be good,” Matt muttered nervously.

Looking out the window, it appeared as though the light cannon had momentarily stopped its barrage. While the mounted artillery kept sputtering away at the Lions, the reprieve was ominous.

Something big was coming.

“Uh, guys, what the heck is happening?” Lance whined nervously.

Keith looked back towards the light cannon, where large mechanical panels had started to shift and rearrange themselves. The loud, motorized groaning made anxiety spike in the back of his head. Spurned into action, he skidded towards the main console and held his mouth only inches away from the transmitter. 

“Everyone, you need to destroy that cannon before it finishes whatever the hell it’s doing! Don’t just sit there and watch it!” Keith yelled down the microphone.

“Keith’s right,” Shiro affirmed. “We’ve wasted enough time – Hunk, without the light cannon’s fire, your Lion should be able to withstand the shots long enough to take out that turret.”

“Roger that,” Hunk replied firmly. The Yellow Lion let out a confident roar, materializing rocket boosters on its back.

Turning to face the artillery, a flash of blue streaked behind as Hunk charged directly at it. The other Paladins circled closer, shielded by Yellow’s hulking body. The hail of bullets pinged as they ricocheted in every direction, and soon there was a loud crunch as the Lion’s head rammed into the turret. Cables, bolts, and a litter of metal shrapnel was scattered in its path, slowing to a gentle float as they drifted away from the assault carrier.

“We don’t have much time,” Shiro exclaimed, eyeing the transforming cannon warily. “Everyone, form Voltron!”

Keith watched the coloured streams of light converge, spiraling and twisting together as they began to combine. The Lions locked themselves together one by one to join forms, and the Black Lion’s jaw clicked open as the transformation was completed. 

Unfortunately, another transformation had also been completed – an automated clunk drew the team’s attention, where they witnessed what had become of the light cannon. 

“Is…is that an ion cannon?” Matt stuttered, fumbling backwards as it began to rotate on its axis.

Coran slid in front of Keith urgently, gripping the main console as he shouted through the transmitter. “Paladins, pull back! This isn’t an attack you can withstand; I repeat – pull back!”

“The castle’s particle barrier won’t be able to withstand it either, Coran!” Allura’s muffled voice yelled back. “We have to do something!”

The ion cannon had locked itself in a pefect line between both Voltron and the Castleship, and had begun to flare with violet light. Meanwhile, several smaller cruisers zipped out from inside the assault carrier’s hangar, firing a barrage of shots at the Paladins.

“Lance, sword!” Shiro barked urgently.

“On it!”

The large red blade materialized between the Red Lion’s grip, and Voltron swung at the enemy ships one by one. They were fast, but the Paladins managed to chip away at the swarm of cruisers. Unfortunately, Keith was certain that these weren’t intended as a threat – merely a stalling tactic while the cannon’s barrel continued to glow brighter and brighter.

Shit, he thought to himself. Was this really how they were going to lose? After almost a year fighting the Empire, they were going to be taken out by some guy in a beat-up ship?

“Fuck this…” Keith clenched his fists tightly, boring his eyes into the control panel in front of him and Coran. “Fuck! This!” He lunged forward, attempting to smash his hand into the energy blaster command switch.

“Keith, don’t!” Matt’s hands wrapped around Keith’s waist, yanking him back from the console forcefully. The half-Galra continued to struggle against him, whipping his tail and thrashing his legs about as they were hoisted off the ground. “We need to reserve the ship’s power right now, they’re too heavily armored for us to do enough damage to stop them!”

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!” Keith finally stopped squirming, instead thrusting his arms down tautly. He was trying his best not to explode. “How can you expect me to just sit back and do nothing while someone points a giant weapon at us?!”

“It’s not about doing nothing; it’s about trusting your teammates!” Matt replied sternly, lowering the Blade slowly back to the floor. “…Pidge told me about how things were, you know – before Shiro came back. I know you didn’t ask to be the leader of Voltron, but the reason it didn’t work was because you tried to do everything yourself! You didn’t trust anyone!”

Keith clenched his jaw, controlling his breath as he chose his next words carefully. “…You weren’t there. Don’t pretend you understand what that situation was like.”

“You two, now isn’t the time for needless squabbling!” Coran butted in, sticking his head squarely between them.

“Then what is it time for, huh?” the Blade snapped, “sitting around and waiting to get shot?”

Keith had never been good at holding back – not with his words, or his actions. Having to watch someone else do all the fighting, while he stood back helplessly on the sidelines…he wasn’t used to that. It was frustrating, and now that frustration was bubbling up from the back of his throat, spilling out in the form of words he didn’t mean to be quite so venomous.

A strong hand clapped over his shoulder, and Coran’s face was suddenly so close to his own that the Blade swore he could feel the ticklish fuzz of his mustache hairs. “Of course not. It’s time for us to put our heads together.”

Keith’s mouth hung agape. “Are you serious?”

“Completely!” Coran pulled away, striding over to the window to point at the flaring ion cannon outside. “Nothing like the looming threat of total annihilation to get the old gears turning!”

Having calmed down after the Altean’s intervention, Matt turned back to Keith resolutely. “So you’re not out there in a Lion right now – big deal. I know it’s more than sheer dumb luck that made you the best pilot in your class.”

“Is that what Shiro told you?”

“Of course he did; the only thing he ever seemed to talk about back at the Garrison was his ‘talented’ little brother.” The brunette gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Come on, I wanna see how much of that was just talk.”

Keith gave a lighthearted scoff. As if they even had time to be joking around like this. Then again, he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t made him feel a bit better about the situation. The Blade never considered himself much of a strategist, but he’d thought himself out of worse problems before.

Pacing to the centre of the bridge, Keith’s eyes roamed the battlefield in front of them. The growing number of enemy cruisers still buzzed around Voltron like flies, keeping them too occupied to target the ion cannon. He wasn’t much of an expert, but the weapon was looking dangerously close to its optimal charge point. 

“You’re…certain that Voltron couldn’t withstand the hit?” The half-Galra contemplated aloud.

“Well, it might not be completely destroyed,” Coran responded, “but the damage would be significant enough to put them out of action, and leave them completely vulnerable to any follow-ups.” The Altean held his hand over the main console, projecting a screen in front of him. Keith surmised it to be a diagnostic reading of the castle’s status. “The particle barrier can probably withstand a single shot, but it means all our power will need to be concentrated into that. There’s no chance for us to return fire, and a second shot from the cannon would result in a very different outcome.”

Moving closer to the control panel, Keith drummed his claws against the surface as he glanced between the monitor and the cannon. “Then what if we…could divert the hit somehow?”

“There’s no way Voltron will be able to approach the assault carrier and reposition the ion cannon in time – we’ve probably only got a minute left as it is!” Matt said exasperatedly.

“No, not like that…” The half-Galra gazed up towards Voltron, watching as its red arm swung over and over again, slicing through the never-ending stream of cruisers still launching from the assault carrier. How the hell did Vreig have this many ships to burn through, anyway? He imagined Lance inside the Red Lion, gasping desperately as he cut through the endless waves of enemies – of everyone, he was definitely dealing with the most fatigue right now.

Keith leaned across the console, pushing his thumb into the transmitter button. “L–Lance,” he stammered out, a hot flush dusting his cheeks. No, he couldn’t afford to be self-conscious about his last conversation with the Red Paladin – not when their lives were on the line. With a deep exhale, he continued. “You remember when we fought General Prozak?” 

“Kei–? Uh, yeah, ‘course I do. Why?” The brunette’s voice sounded a little hoarse through the speakers.

“Because he was too strong for us too, right? There was no way we’d have withstood one of those punches from his cybernetic arm. But we still beat him – we won using his own power against him.”

“So you’re saying we should…push the ion cannon over a guard rail?”

“…Keith, is that really what you’re saying?” Allura chimed in concernedly.

“No, it isn’t,” Keith groaned. “I’m saying that Voltron just needs so way to…like, redirect the blast somehow.”

“You mean using the cannon’s own momentum to counter itself? There’s no way we could bounce a shot like that back, even with Voltron’s shield,” Pidge stated bluntly.

Behind them, the weapon’s cylinder stuttered with purple energy, each pulse quickening by the second. “Guys, we’re running out of time!” Hunk panicked.

“No, wait! That’s it!” Lance exclaimed. “If we use the shield, we don’t have to deflect the shot back at this…this Vreig guy; we just need to angle it enough to change the trajectory!”

“You know, that…just might be crazy enough to work!” Pidge concurred, gripping her steering controls with renewed confidence. “Shiro, if we position ourselves at the edge of the shot, the force should deflect right off us. We’ll be pushed back by the momentum instead of bearing the brunt of it, and it’ll protect the Castle by funneling the blast off to the side!”

“Well, it’s the best plan we’ve got…Voltron, form shield!” The Black Lion’s wings flew forward, locking together in the Green Lion’s clasp. “Alright everyone, brace yourselves!”

Shifting into position, the Red Lion joined Green at the shield to strengthen their hold. Voltron hunched all of its weight forward, fortifying the paladins inside for the hit. The surrounding cruisers had already scattered, hovering close to the assault carrier protectively but flying well clear of the ion cannon’s range.

“Here it comes – hold on, everyone!” Coran shouted to the rest of the team, as the violet beam flickered sharply.

The barrel suddenly went dark, and the silence almost felt like they were frozen in time. Keith could feel the hairs down his neck prickling anxiously, the cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Then, the Castle window lit up with a flash.

The bright flare of energy was blinding, and Keith’s eyes felt like they’d been scorched by the intensity of it. “Gkh!” He clamped his fists over his face, grunting in pain. Vibrations shook the Castleship, and the buzz of a laser flooded his eardrums. The Blade’s tail fumbled for the console, trying to maintain his balance while he’d been rendered sightless.

“Yes! Oh my god, it worked!” Matt cheered. “Guys, are you okay?!”

“We’re fine, everyone’s alright here!” Hunk replied with relief. 

“Ugh, speak for yourself, Hunk – you weren’t the one holding the shield!” Lance groaned.

“Everyone’s alive, and that’s what’s important here.” Shiro said conclusively. “Now come on, this battle’s not over yet!”

Keith heard the rumble of thrusters fading into the distance, only making his head pound harder. His eyelids were still clamped tightly shut, and his fingertips rubbed at the sockets in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation – it was like someone had thrown acid in his eyes. He’d stared at the sun too long before, but this wasn’t even comparable.

Feeling for the edge of the control panel, Keith slid down to the floor, relishing the feeling of cool metal against the side of his head – as he’d anticipated, there was definitely a lump there now. Using his hands to shade his face, he gently tried to ease his eyes open again. As the slightest crack of light seeped into his vision, the half-Galra winced in pain, squeezing his lids tightly shut. Tears immediately rushed forward to soothe the stinging.

The thunderous sounds of clashing ships and gunfire raged on around him, and Keith had no idea what was happening anymore. Were they winning or losing? It sounded like the shield idea had worked, but what about after that? Anxiety coiled in the pit of the Blade’s stomach – being trapped in the darkness at a time like this was far scarier than any battle he’d been in before.

“Keith, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Coran’s gentle voice was laced with concern. He could feel the advisor’s form looming over him, even if he couldn’t see it.

“I–I don’t know. My eyes…they feel like they’re on fire.”

The half-Galra felt a gloved hand brush his bangs to one side. “Can you open them?”

Keith shook his head.

“I see…the blast from the ion cannon was quite bright, but it shouldn’t have caused any harm. Can you describe how it’s hurting?”

“I don’t know, it just hurts.” Keith sulked, stooping forward where he sat. “…What’s happening outside? Did we…are we winning?”

Coran took in a breath to speak, but was interrupted by a loud cheer from Matt.

“Hell yes! That was amazing, holy shit!” Keith could hear him from somewhere over the other side of the room, probably near the window.

“Well, I’m sure that answered your question, but yes. It’s thanks to you and Lance that we were able to get out of that tight spot, after all.” The Altean’s hand smoothed down Keith’s arm, taking a hold of his palm. “With that over now though, I’m concerned about your eyes. I think it would be best if we go straight to the med bay from here, to make sure there isn’t any permanent damage.”

Keith jerked his hand away. “I–I don’t need help.”

Coran sighed, and the sound of footsteps grew closer behind him.

“What’s going on? Are you guys okay?” Matt sounded breathless, likely from his earlier celebrations.

“The blast from before seems to have affected Keith’s vision, unfortunately. We’ll need to go to the med bay to examine him further.”

“Damn, that…doesn’t sound good. I think everyone’s pulling back into the hangar now, do you want me to go meet them in the common room while you look after Keith?”

The Blade hated being talked about as if he wasn’t sitting right there.

“That might be bes–”

“It’s fine.” Keith cut in. “Go meet everyone in the lounge, I’ll wait here for you to come back.”

“…Are you certain?” Coran said warily.

“Yeah, sure. It’ll seem like more of a fuss if you aren’t there to greet them anyway.”

The Altean seemed to hesitate for a moment, before conceding. “Alright then. Do you want us to help you over to a chair, in that case?”

“Nah. The floor’s fine.” Keith let his head lull backwards, letting his shoulders slump against the console.

“Okay, we’ll be back in a jiffy then.” With that, Keith heard the two men walk away, feet growing quieter as they crossed the room. Soon, there was the soft whoosh of a sliding door opening and closing again, signaling that he was finally alone.

Keith sat deathly still for a moment, listening intently for the sounds of anyone lingering behind. Content that nobody was coming back, he leaned against the control panel to hoist himself up from the ground. His arms waved through the air in front of him, helping to find his balance. His eyes squinted, as if trying to focus harder on the nothingness.

If there was one thing Keith knew right now, it’s that he wasn’t going to wait for Coran to come back. It wasn’t that he was scared of having his eyes checked – though admittedly, that did scare him a little. It wasn’t even the unwanted attention that came with it – again, also scary. But the real reason Keith needed to be somewhere else right now was that he needed to go to the hangar. 

He needed to see Lance.

There were a number of reasons pulling him to the other boy right now. For one, he’d started to become used to the brunette’s support every time something about him changed. He was like a safety blanket to Keith – he made him feel okay again. There was also the pull he’d been feeling for a while now, the desire to be near Lance, to spend time with him and, in this case, make sure that he was okay.

And then there was what had transpired in the kitchen, only a few hours ago. If anything, that probably should have driven Keith away from Lance, but it didn’t. He just needed an answer, a reaction, anything right now that would give him closure on that particular confession. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Even if he didn’t like it.

Gently tapping at the space in front of him with his foot, Keith took a step forward. The shifting weight made him sway precariously, and his arms flapped desperately in search of something solid to ground him. Finding nothing, he bent forward and leaned against his thighs for support instead. 

This won’t work, Keith thought to himself begrudgingly, I’ll never make it to the hangar like this. He didn’t have the confidence to just stroll around blindly, but he didn’t exactly have time to spare being cautious, either. The half-Galra knew he had no other choice – if he wanted to sneak out, he’d have to open his eyes. 

Taking in a deep breath, Keith relaxed the tense muscles of his eyelids. He eased them open slowly, carefully, his eyelashes fluttering with every rapid movement of his pupils. As a sliver of light made it through his vision, his brow twisted painfully. “Fuck!” He hissed, clamping his palms over his eyes. It was still too bright.

Keith bit his lip angrily, swallowing the bitter taste at the back of his throat. He wasn’t giving up; he’d already decided that he was done playing victim to his body. Keeping his hands covering the top half of his face, the Blade let his eyes begin to slide steadily open. This time, there was no splitting beam of light to blind him, and he managed to finally use his sight once more – not that there was much to see beneath his hands, but a victory was a victory.

The half-Galra rolled his shoulders in anticipation of the next step. At least the hallways are dimmed at night, he mused. With his mind steeled, Keith decided to go for the quick approach, peeling his hands away from his face in one fell swoop. The blinding white-coloured walls pierced his vision painfully, but he scrunched his eyelids tight and pushed himself through it. His eyes blinked like strobe lights as he powered towards the bridge door, pressing the button on the wall repeatedly as if it would make it open faster.

Making it out of the room, Keith sighed in relief at the shadowy abyss before him – finally, some relief. There was still a dull stinging in his eyes, but it was bearable at least. He looked down the corridor, ignoring the fuzzy specks that danced persistently across his vision. Every rapid eye movement seemed to be accompanied by a disconcerting blur, but Keith chose to ignore it as he began walking forward.

Moving through the low-lit halls, one thing that Keith was caught off-guard by was how well his eyes seemed to have adjusted to the darkness. Sure, the shapes of doorways and passages around him were a little indistinct, but he could still pick them out with surprising clarity.

“Guess this is why the Blades are so good at stealth missions,” he muttered under his breath, “it’s much easier to lurk in the shadows when you can see everything this clearly.” He assumed at this point that his own hazy vision was more of a transitional thing. Or at least, he really hoped it was.

Following the neon strips along the walls, which were admittedly too bright for Keith to look at directly, he eventually reached the end of the hallway. A crack of light peeped between the doorframe, and he swallowed thickly before reaching towards the control panel to the side.

 A blinding wall of white slammed into Keith, and his eyelids reflexively scrunched themselves closed again. Dammit, he grumbled to himself. But he was so close – close enough to hear the distant chatter of his teammates – that he wasn’t about to give up now. The Blade held his hands above his brow, casting shade over his face, and once again coaxed his eyes open. He was squinting so hard that his facial muscles ached, but it was enough to see the expanse before him, to see the Lions waiting in the distance for him to approach.

The voices grew louder with each step forward, and Keith could make out several blurry, colourful figures standing by Red. Judging from the lack of interruption, he assumed they must have been facing in the other direction. Keith’s tail began to flick anxiously, his heart rate quickening as he thought about why he’d even come here.

He was starting to wonder if he really wanted to see Lance after all. Things had been left on a pretty awkward note, and he wasn’t so sure he was in the best state right now to go picking it up again. Maybe he’d have been better off waiting until his eyes had healed a little more before deciding to follow up this conversation. Maybe this was actually a really dumb, stupid, terrible idea.

Keith’s anxious thoughts were interrupted by the bits and pieces of speech he could now just barely make out, and he began to speed up to listen more closely to the discussion.

“There will surely be ramifications once his planet hears of what happened today,” Allura said solemnly.

“I understand your point, Princess, but we’re the ones who were attacked first!” Pidge argued.

“Regardless of that, Allura is right. There’ll no doubt be unrest on Argolis about the situation, so it’s our responsibility to make amends.” Shiro replied sternly.

“But aren’t we headed for Kalkara right now? You know…for Keith?” Hunk cleared his throat awkwardly, while the rest of the paladins remained silent.

So they all knew why they were really going to Kalkara after all – when did Allura tell them? Keith only hoped it was after she announced it at dinner, because the thought of her only keeping up that front for his sake was even more humiliating.

Keith’s feet slowed to a shuffle, before stopping entirely. He really shouldn’t have come to the hangar. Listening to his teammates rationalizing between his personal wellbeing, or the wellbeing of the entire Voltron Alliance, made him feel sick. He’d never wanted to be a burden on their mission. He’d also never wanted to turn into a Galra in the first place. 

Keith didn’t seem to get what he wanted a lot, lately.

“I know…that public relations are an important part of the Alliance.” Lance’s voice suddenly piped up, pulling Keith’s attention back again. “But isn’t this team also important? Whether or not Keith would actually admit it, he’s…been through a lot of pain these past few months. I think if we’re his teammates, or friends, or…or whatever, we should want to actually help him! To me, that should be a priority more important than a single planet.”

“…I kinda agree with Lance,” Hunk concurred. “While we need to fix things with Argolis, Keith’s obviously not doing well right now. I don’t know much about it, but if Kalkara’s what he needs, then…then I’m all for it.”

“You…do make a fair point. The strength of Voltron lies in our ability to act as a team, and Keith is part of that. Still…I worry what will happen if we leave Argolis alone for too long.”

“Well, considering the circumstances, maybe we should split up. The Princess and I can negotiate a peaceful resolution with the Argolians, while everyone else continues on to Kalkara.”

“You sure you’ll be okay without us, Shiro? They might be a bit pissed off that you killed their…uh, General? We don’t even know who that Vreig guy was, do we?”

“We’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll talk with Matt to see if we can get some of the rebel supply units out there with us, and negotiate an economic system that doesn’t involve profiting off of the war.”

“Judging by their weaponry, maybe they already have some expertise they could be making better use of anyw–” Lance abruptly paused, leaning around Hunk’s body to look behind him. “…Keith?!”

Oh shit, the half-Galra panicked, freezing up on the spot. He wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop on that conversation. “I, uh–! I didn’t mean to…hear that...” His cheeks were burning. If he could actually make out anyone’s face right now, he was sure they’d be scowling at him.

Without a word, it was the Red Paladin who stepped forward first, charging at the Blade with a pace that screamed DANGER. Keith stumbled backwards, still unsteady on his feet and practically blind, holding his hands up defensively.

Instead of the punch he was expecting, however, Keith felt two warm hands wrap around his waist and squeeze him tightly. The smell of sweat and pine-lime shampoo swirled around him, and soft brown curls brushed against the underside of his chin.

This wasn’t like the hug Allura gave him when he’d returned to the Castleship. This was…the kind of hug that made his heart flutter, and his knees go wobbly beneath him. The kind that he wanted to last forever.

The kind that made him fall more in love.

Chapter Text

Keith was melting. The fire swelling in his chest was too much, too intense, and he felt himself dissolving away in the brunette’s arms. The warmth of Lance’s body heat pressed flush against his own had turned his brain to mush, his tongue to jelly.

“I’m…I’m glad you’re okay.” The brunette whispered against the crook of Keith’s collarbone.

“M-me too.” The Blade stammered, his voice only a soft rasp. “Um, but about you, I mean! Like, I’m glad you’re okay too!”

Lance let out a laugh; the usual sweet, bell-like tinkling that made Keith’s heart swell. “You really saved us out there, you know?”

“Pfft, no way.” Keith rested his chin on the paladin’s head, breathing in the other boy’s familiar scent. His eyes relaxed from the strained squint he’d been holding, fluttering peacefully closed. “You’re the one who figured out how to repel the blast away from the Castleship. I just kinda…said a bunch of useless stuff.”

“You were both helpful,” Shiro interjected, strolling closer to the pair. The Blade jerked his head away from its resting spot awkwardly. “Keith, it was you who put the idea in Lance’s head, and he thought outside the box to find a solution. The two of you should be proud of your teamwork.”

“Mm-hmm.” Keith clicked his tongue to hide his embarrassment. 

His eyelids slid back open, still struggling against the harsh lighting of the hangar. Everyone probably thought he was just scowling at them, which in fairness would be pretty on-brand for the half-Galra anyway. Lance’s hands were now draped loosely over his hips, and it was hard enough to not be distracted by them.

“Not to interrupt,” Pidge butted in, “but if you two are done having a moment…”

“I’m n–we’re not having a ‘moment’!” Keith slid his body away from the brunette’s grip, feeling suddenly awkward under the gazes of his teammates.

“…I meant you and Shiro, but sure.” The Green Paladin gave a snicker under her breath over the misunderstanding. “Anyway, what I was going to say is that we should head over to the common room – Matt and Coran are probably waiting for us.”

“Right…yeah, they said they would be.” Keith mumbled, his face reddening.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why is it then that you’ve come to the hangar alone, Keith?” Allura asked, brushing a stray hair behind her pointed ear.

“I, um. I’m not actually supposed to be here, really,” The half-Garla said, averting his narrowed gaze. “I told Coran I’d wait for him in the bridge so he could take me to the med bay. He uh, needed to examine my eyes.”

“Huh, I was wondering why you were squinting like that.” Hunk nodded understandingly. “Are they sore?”

“More like sensitive I guess? Ever since the ion cannon went off, it’s like everything is…too bright.” Keith’s eyelashes fluttered as his attention was drawn back to the stark whiteness of the room. Fighting against it, he let his eyelids ease open as wide as he could manage. “Do they…um, do they look okay?” 

The team all seemed to simultaneously focus their gazes on anything that wasn’t the half-Galran. After an uncomfortably long pause, Shiro finally cleared his throat. “Yellow. Very…yellow.”

Keith let out a light scoff under his breath – after everything that’d happened so far, it was about what he had expected. His lips curled wryly at the realization of how he was becoming so used to these changes now. He still didn’t like them, but they didn’t surprise him. They were familiar. Predictable.

“In that case, perhaps it’s best then if we all go to the common room together!” Allura exclaimed, her enthusiasm sounding slightly forced. “Surely we’ve kept Matt and Coran waiting long enough, and Keith, you’ll be able to go straight to the med bay once things are settled.”

“…Sure,” Keith conceded, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

“Oh, um, actually!” Lance piped up nervously. “There’s…something I have to talk with Keith about, is it alright if we catch up with everyone?”

“I guess,” Shiro replied, shifting his helmet underneath his arm. “Just don’t take too long – it’s not fair to keep Coran waiting.”

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry about it, we’ll be quick!” Lance gave a wide grin, waving his hand as everyone made their way out of the hangar – it was almost like he was shooing them away. In fact, Keith could definitely swear Pidge was making some kind of face at the Red Paladin on her way out.

After a moment that seemed to drag on just a little too long, he and Lance were finally alone together. The realization made Keith’s stomach want to leap out of his throat. Shit, why was he so nervous? He smoothed the pads of his fingers down his jeans, trying to wipe away the clamminess that had gathered there.

“You…look like you’re struggling,” Lance began with a shaky breath. “Would it be better if we went somewhere a little darker?”

“Um, yeah, probably.” Keith said, rubbing at his eyelids.

Lance glanced down at the Blade’s hand, as if he was thinking about holding it, before seemingly changing his mind and turning on his heel instead. “Alright, let’s go then!”

Keith tilted his head softly, watching the brunette’s broad shoulders sway with each step towards the exit. Lifting his own feet, he trailed a few paces behind Lance as they both made their way out into the hall, his gaze lingering on the other boy’s shadow.

Only a few more steps down the corridor, they both stopped in front of a small metal door. Keith eyed it up and down suspiciously – he was pretty sure it was a storage closet.

“When you said we’d go somewhere a bit darker, this…wasn’t quite what I was thinking.”

“Wh–look, we don’t have time, okay?” Lance huffed. “I didn’t want to keep everyone waiting, this is…it’s fine, isn’t it?” 

“No, you’re right,” Keith sighed in agreement. “Everyone’ll come looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”

The Red Paladin’s shoulders relaxed in relief, and he reached forward to wave his hand in range of the door’s automatic sensor. As it glided upwards, he took a step to the side. “A-after you, then.” 

Keith strolled into the tiny room, turning around to watch Lance as the door closed behind him. Standing in the darkness, he began to fidget, wringing his hands together anxiously. He already knew that bad news was coming; he just wanted to hurry up and get it over with. The last thing he wanted was for Lance to drag this out just because he was worried about Keith’s feelings.

“Wow, uh, is this too dark?” Lance whispered, swiveling his head around in search of the other boy.

“I can see fine,” Keith replied, planting his hands on the brunette’s shoulders to help ground him. “Just tell me what you wanna say already.”

“Right. Okay,” Lance responded, sounding a little flustered.

Still holding Lance beneath his palms, the half-Galra couldn’t help but admire the way his sharp eyes glowed against the shadows, or how his smooth skin picked up even the tiniest amount of light and reflected it back. Even in the dark, the brunette looked utterly radiant – Keith was actually feeling pretty thankful for his new night vision right now.

Stop it, his thoughts brought him back to reality. Stop making this harder on yourself, you already know what Lance is going to tell you. Feeling deflated, the Blade removed his grip and let his hands flop back down to his sides.

“Well? Are you gonna say something or not?” He mumbled, the sourness creeping into his voice.

“Sh-shut up, you being snippy at me is making me even more nervous, okay? It’s hard enough for me to say this!”

“Say what?” Keith groaned, growing more and more impatient. What did Lance even have to be nervous about? Rejecting him? The half-Galra had already resigned himself to that; the sigh of disappointment was already held in his lungs, ready to be let out. “What could possibly be that hard to tell me?”

“That I like you, okay?!” The brunette finally blurted out, his eyes wide in exasperation. “As in like like you! Are you happy?!”

“What do you mean like like? How does saying it twice mean anything?!” Keith returned the expression, equally frustrated.

Lance dragged his hands down his face. “Oh my g–like like means you love someone, idiot!”

“Wh–” Keith choked, sputtering for his words. His mouth flapped open and closed futilely, and a soft wheeze escaped his throat as he failed to comprehend what Lance was saying.

“It means that I…that I love you, Keith. Look, I know that I–” the brunette’s words were punctuated by trembling breaths, but he managed to keep talking. “–I should have said something when you confessed to me earlier. I was just really overwhelmed, I guess. I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to ever feel…that way towards me, and then you said it, and suddenly the sirens were going off. I just kinda panicked, I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t exactly the reaction you were hoping for.”

The Blade remained frozen stiff, his face pale and unmoving in apparent shock.

“Hey…say something, please? You’re kinda freaking me out. Are you…you weren’t joking about what you said earlier, were you? Please tell me you weren’t joking.”

The silence lingered for a moment. Then, without warning, Keith’s emotions exploded all at once. A torrent of fresh tears streamed down his face, and a sob of relief gurgled past his lips. The half-Galra slammed his body into the brunette’s, burying his head deep into the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped tightly around the smaller boy’s body.

“I w–would never…n-n-never joke about that,” Keith whispered, his quivering lip making the words harder to understand. “I was just so sure that you…that you hated me, and that’s why you left. And then I assumed you wanted to talk so that you could tell me you weren’t interested; that I was disgusting for even putting you in this situation.” 

Lance’s brows knitted together with concern. “Oh Keith…why would you ever even think that?” He threaded his fingers through the other boy’s hair, raking through it gently. “Even if I didn’t have a crazy-big crush on you, I would never say something like that. Not in a million years!” 

“I know…” Keith sniffled. “My head’s good at blowing things out of proportion.” He nuzzled further against the brunette’s fingertips, relishing the goosebumps they sent tingling down his neck.

The two didn’t speak another word for what felt like an eternity; simply savouring each other’s presence, basking in the overwhelming relief of finally letting everything be out in the open. Keith could feel his eyelids start to grow heavy, the emotional whiplash of the day finally taking its toll. But it was a happy kind of exhaustion, like finally having an immense weight lifted off him. He squeezed the brunette tighter, as if he needed to convince himself that everything in this moment was still real. That the Lance who loved him was real.

Abruptly, the movement on his scalp stopped, and a warm hand brushed back his bangs, sticky with old tears.

“You know…we should probably get going soon. Do you think you’ll be okay?” The Red Paladin’s thumb wiped carefully over his cheek, smearing away the remaining wetness. “I don’t wanna rush you, though.” 

“It’s fine,” Keith assured with a sniff, lifting his head upright again. “Don’t want everyone to come looking for us. Besides, it’s pretty cramped in here anyway.”

“What, you’re not finding this broom closet romantic?”

Keith scoffed with a smile, rolling his eyes at the brunette. “You can stay in the broom closet by yourself if you’re enjoying it that much.”

Lance gasped, leaning back in Keith’s arms to hold a hand dramatically against his own chest. “I confess my feelings to you, and five minutes later you’re already trying to get rid of me? Unbelievable!”

The two exchanged tense glares, before the crack of a smile edged its way across the half-Galran’s lips. Lance snorted, trying to hold in his laughter, before the two of them broke simultaneously. Keith released his hold on the Red Paladin, shaking his head as he managed to catch his breath again.

“Come on, let’s go before you come up with any more bad jokes.” Keith teased.

“Excuse you, I’ve never told a bad joke in my life!” Lance retorted lightheartedly, before turning to walk out of the room. Luckily his vision had adjusted to the darkness, and he managed to open the door easily enough.

Keith followed the brunette out of the closet, contorting his face as the comparative brightness of the hallway hit him. He was just thankful that it was still somewhat dimmed due to the time. He didn’t have a watch on, but it was probably somewhere in the early hours of the morning now. It had been a long, draining day.

It was weird to think back to only a couple of hours ago, when he sat on the kitchen bench with Lance feeling like his heart was going to burst. Even stranger to think, not so long ago, he didn’t even understand why the other boy made butterflies swim in his stomach whenever he was nearby in the first place. And now they were…together? Keith wasn’t really sure whether to label it as dating just yet. But he loved Lance, and Lance loved him back – knowing that was more than enough. 

The two boys rounded another corner, seeing the common room a short distance up ahead. Lance turned back and gave a soft smile towards Keith, before continuing through the doorway.

They were faced with the image of everyone lounged leisurely across the sofa, some looking to be engaged in conversation, while others looking like they were a few minutes away from falling asleep. Shiro in particular seemed to be saying something important, his face poised with its signature seriousness. This was quickly broken, however, as the Black Paladin noticed Keith and Lance had joined them. 

“Good, there you two are! We were just about to send a search party for you.” He joked, looking a little more relaxed than he had just a moment ago.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to keep everyone waiting.” Keith replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“That’s alright, Matt and Coran have already filled in everything on your end, and we’ve already discussed what happened on ours.” Shiro glanced towards the Holt siblings, who were both leaning drowsily against Hunk’s shoulders. The Yellow Paladin himself had a tired glaze over his eyes. “I think what everyone needs now is a good night’s sleep – me included,” he added with a yawn, rubbing at the side of his face. 

“Oh, but it’d still be best if we squeeze in a quick check-up for you, Keith!” Coran chimed in, sounding a little peppier than the Black Paladin. “I imagine your eyes are a bit better if you’re walking around with them open now, but we wouldn’t want to ignore the matter entirely.”

“That’s…reasonable, I guess,” The half-Galra conceded. He then felt a hand smooth across his shoulder. 

“Do you want me to come with this time?” Lance said in a gentle tone. 

“Nah, I’ll be okay.” Keith replied, stroking the hand with his own. “Besides, I think you need the rest – you look like shit.”

“Wh–!” Lance exclaimed, retracting his palm. “You’re no portrait of perfection either, mullet!”

Keith chuckled through his sharp teeth. “I meant you look exhausted. I don’t want to keep you up longer than necessary, so please – sleep.”

“Fine,” Lance conceded, his body sagging. One by one, the paladins hoisted themselves off the sofa, waving Coran and Keith goodnight as they filed out of the room. Soon enough, it was just the Blade and the Altean left.

“Well then, shall we head over?” Coran said, gesturing for Keith to move first.

He nodded, walking alongside the advisor to the med bay. It was an unusually quiet walk – both of them were likely too exhausted for idle chatter right now. Thinking about the rest of the team already in their beds made Keith slightly jealous, but he hoped that he’d be following pretty soon. 

“Alright Keith, just have a seat and I’ll get the OCT scanner ready.” Coran gestured towards the usual seat, still set up from their last consultation. 

“Oh-see-tee?” Keith questioned, sitting down in the leftmost chair.

“It stands for Optical Coherence Tomography,” The Altean replied, rummaging through one of the drawers at the back of the room. Appearing to have found what he was looking for, he stood upright again and began walking back towards Keith. “It uses light waves to take pictures of the retinal layers in your eyes. Kind of like a cross-section of what the insides of them look like!”

As Coran sat opposite him, the Blade looked down at the small silver rod in his hands. It was smooth all over, and Keith would be very confused if he hadn’t just been told what it was. Actually, he was still very confused. “It won’t hurt…will it?”

“Of course not, my boy! It’s only a laser scan, so you won’t feel a thing.” Coran held the device upright, only a few inches from Keith’s face. The half-Galra flinched away slightly. “You’ll just need to keep your eyes open while I take the retinal scan – can you do that for me?”

“…Sure,” Keith said unconvincingly. He swallowed nervously as he waited for the scanner to kick in, until suddenly a bright light pierced directly into his left eye. His eyelid twitched reflexively, but he did his best to resist closing them.

After a few seconds, Coran moved to his right eye, repeating the process. Then, the laser was switched off, and the device was plugged into the med bay console at its base.

“Was….was that it?”

“That was it! Wasn’t too bad now, was it?” Coran smiled, before turning back to the graphs of data appearing on the monitor in front of him.

Keith shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust his tail beneath him, as he waited for the Altean to read the scan results.

As he skimmed over the data, Coran began to converse again. “So, just to keep you in the loop of things, I’ll mention that the Princess has spoken with the Kalkaran Council. They’ve discussed our visit to Kalkara, as well as your…personal needs, meaning everything’s in place for our arrival!”

“Great…” Keith replied sarcastically.

“…You don’t sound too excited, Keith,” Coran said disappointedly. “I know things feel hopeless for you at the moment, but you must have faith! If you believe that your transformation can be reversed, then it can – it’s all about attitude!”

“I…don’t know about that,” Keith sighed. “But I guess everyone’s going to all this trouble for my sake; the least I can do is try to be a bit more positive.”

“That’s the spirit!” Coran cheered supportively. “And, even better news, your eyes appear to be completely undamaged from the ion cannon. It’s likely they were just a little sore from the adjustment period.”

“By ‘adjustment period’, I assume you mean that they’re yellow now?” 

“That’s right – thinking about it, I suppose you haven’t had a chance to actually see them yet, have you?”

“Nope,” Keith said tersely.

“Here then, I’ll switch the monitor for you.” Coran closed the retinal scan results, pressing a few more buttons on the console keypad. Suddenly, the screen blinked back at the half-Galra, and a purple face filled the display. His purple face.

Keith ran his fingers across the edge of his eyelids, pulling them gently to avoid snagging them with his claws. Seeing his own movements mirrored back before him was uncanny; like a copycat, rather than his own reflection. What he’d been told was correct, though – the whites of his eyes were now the colour of egg yolks, his dark violet irises contrasting harshly against them. Abruptly, he stood up from his chair.

“…Thank you, Coran. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Oh! Very well, goodnight then!” The Altean stammered out as the Blade was already halfway out the door.

Keith continued back to his quarters, punching in his passcode before he entered the room and flopped down on his mattress. He let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the quiet hum of the ship.

The half-Galran couldn’t fathom how Lance was in love with him – no matter how many times he saw it, he still couldn’t get used to the way he looked.

-- 

Keith didn’t remember falling asleep last night. His eyes had suddenly flown open, wide awake, and his hand had reached up to wipe away the thin trail of drool dribbling down his cheek. He turned his head and looked at the clock – it was 2 pm.

“Holy shit...” He groaned, jerking himself up from the bed.

The half-Galra stretched his arms up high above his head, enjoying the full-body crack that rippled down his spine, right through to the tip of his tail. He hiked his shirt up, pulling it off and tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the clothing hamper. A rough palm reached up to half-assedly rub the sleep from his eyes.

Keith walked over to his dresser, pulling out another black t-shirt from one of the drawers. As he closed it, his black fingerless gloves slipped off the surface and dropped to the floor. Huh, he’d forgot about those – he’d kind of assumed they probably didn’t fit anymore.

Feeling a little nostalgic, Keith picked them up anyway and carried his clothes over to the bed again. He set the gloves aside for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head first instead. As he rolled his shoulders, he could hear the seams straining to stay together. He gave a frustrated huff, pinching the too-tight sleeves as he tried futilely to yank them over his biceps.

“Ugh…seriously?” He grumbled, giving up on the effort. The half-Galra had never particularly enjoyed clothes shopping, and he had no idea where they were supposed to do that in space. It was lucky enough he’d been able to round up a few spare t-shirts at his shack before they were launched to the other side of the universe.

Picking up his gloves again, he pondered whether it was even worth trying them on. Still, a small part of him wanted to believe that, even if he was taller, his hands couldn’t have grown that much. Keith held out his right palm, clenching his fingers together as he slid them into the fabric. He guided each digit to its corresponding hole, and finally tugged the rest of the glove down to his wrist.

Holding his arm out in front of him, Keith examined his handiwork – it was a little snug, but it fit. Grinning proudly to himself, the Blade immediately tugged the other glove over his left hand, before flexing his fingers with a sense of accomplishment. It was a weird thing to be so excited about, but wearing his gloves again made Keith feel just a little more like his old self. It was a feeling he found himself clinging to more and more, lately.

Prompted by the loud gurgle of his stomach, Keith stood up again and left his room, making his way towards the kitchen. Considering the time, he was hoping that meant he wouldn’t encounter anyone else there – while he’d agreed with Lance that he needed to just accept his new appetite, any opportunity to avoid that discussion with the team for just a little bit longer wasn’t something he was about to pass up on.

Unfortunately, upon entering the dining hall, he could hear the clink of glasses from behind the wall. With a deep breath, Keith steeled himself and ducked through the kitchen doorway, where he was greeted by Hunk’s tanned back.

Eyeing the other boy up and down, he realized that he was wearing his swim trunks. Not wanting to startle the Yellow Paladin, Keith gently cleared his throat.

“Huh? Oh, hey Keith!” Hunk beamed, turning around to reveal a tray of very tropical-looking drinks in his hands. “Was wondering how long it’d be ‘til you woke up.”

 “Yeah, I don’t even remember drifting off last night…” He mumbled, scratching out the tangles of his bed hair. 

“Dude, me neither; yesterday was full-on. It’s so nice to just be able to take it easy today. Me, Pidge and Lance are just hanging out in the pool today; you should come if you’re not doing anything.” Hunk held out the silver tray, swaying it enticingly. “I made virgin piña coladas!”

“Uh, no thanks,” Keith waved his hand politely. “I was just gonna make myself some…well, I want to say breakfast, but it’s also 2 pm right now. So I guess lunch.”

“Oh man, hold on a sec!” The Yellow Paladin placed the drinks back on the kitchen counter and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling open the door to search for something inside. After a few seconds of digging, he pulled out a platter of slightly pink-ish coloured goo. Using his hip to close the fridge door, Hunk placed the dish on the bench in front of Keith, procuring a spoon from the drawer below and placing it to one side.

“Um…what is that?” The half-Galra tried to hide his mild disgust at the doughy-looking sludge.

“This would be one special, made-to-order meal prepared by yours truly.” Hunk gave a theatrical bow beside the plate of food, before standing upright again with a more even expression. “It’s like normal food goo, but the mixture is more concentrated, making it a lot denser and more filling. Lance asked me to make it for you, since you’ve got a bit more of an appetite now.”

“He…didn’t have to do that,” Keith muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be silly. Your body’s burning more calories now, so you’ve gotta eat a bit more – so what? I mean, I’m sure if I was given the tiny portion that Allura eats every day, I’d be pretty damn hungry all the time too. Your body knows what it needs–” Hunk gave Keith’s belly a gentle poke, “–and it needs food. So eat up – I’m not having you waste my gourmet cooking, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” Keith scoffed, picking up the spoon. “…Thanks, Hunk.”

“Don’t even mention it,” the Yellow Paladin smiled, lifting the tray of drinks back up from the counter. “I’m gonna head back to the pool now, so make sure you come by once you’re done eating, okay? I think a certain loverboy misses you!”

“Wh–!” Before Keith could get another word in, Hunk had hightailed it out of the kitchen, leaving him alone with more than one objection to the previous statement.

His first objection was the fact that he’d already said he wasn’t going to come to the pool. But, his more important second objection was that Lance was his…his loverboy? How did Hunk even know about that?

…Oh wait, Lance is a fucking blabbermouth, Keith reminded himself. Not even taking the time to sit down, the Blade drove his spoon into the thick goo, shoveling mouthfuls as fast as he could past his pointed teeth. A furious fire had been lit in Keith’s eyes – as soon as he was done eating, Lance had better watch out.

Almost choking several times, Keith had wolfed down the meal and dumped his plate in the dishwasher. The rich flavor of almost-strawberries lingered delectably on his tongue, and his stomach felt comfortably full. With no reason to waste any more time, he powered out of the kitchen and towards the pool.

Storming down the corridor, Keith took mild pleasure in the leathery squeak of his gloves as he tightened his fists. The slap of his bare feet on the floor echoed behind him, and his tail swished back and forth restlessly right up until he finally reached the swimming pool.

Without pause, the half-Galra burst into the room, eyes flitting around in search of the tanned perpetrator.

“Keeeeiiithhh! I knew you’d come!” The brunette’s shrill voice called from the water.

“Don’t ‘Keeeeiiithh’ me!” He stomped over to the edge of the pool, kicking up tiny flecks of water with each step. “I can’t believe you told Hunk we’re a–a thing now! You didn’t even ask me if I was comfortable with everyone knowing yet!”

“Woah, wait, time-out!” The Yellow Paladin interjected, jerking up from his inflatable tube so fast that he almost toppled out of it. “Lance didn’t tell me anything. He was just in a really good mood last night, and I maybe kinda guessed that something like that was why. It doesn’t help that he’s a really terrible liar.”

“Hey, am not!” Lance whined.

“Are too.” Keith and Hunk retorted in sync.

Shaking his head, Hunk continued. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be mad at him for it. And I didn’t realize it was something you didn’t want other people to know about – I won’t tell anyone if you’re not ready for them to know yet.” 

“No…it’s okay,” Keith sighed, his shoulders relaxing again. “I mean, it’s not like I want to keep it a secret or anything. Telling people is just a bit scary, and I guess you just already knowing caught me off-guard.”

“Dude, what did you say to Keith?” Lance narrowed his eyes at the other boy.

“I was just joking around! But I didn’t mean to upset anyone by it, so I’m really sorry, Keith.”

“It’s fine, I think I blew it out of proportion. Probably because I was hungry.” He patted his stomach lightly. “Uh, thanks for the food by the way, it was really good.”

“Nice! Always glad to hear my cooking’s appreciated.”

“Hey, hey, aren’t you gonna apologise to me too?” Lance fluttered his eyelashes playfully. “Maybe by getting in the pool?”

“Nuh-uh. Not in the mood for swimming.”

“You’re so lame, oh my god! Get in the pool!” The brunette mustered his most dramatic pout.

“Booooo! Get in the pool!” Hunk goaded cheekily.

“Nope, going back to my room now. Not getting wet today.” Keith pivoted to leave the room, but was startled by something standing only a foot behind him. Fumbling on the slippery floor, the Blade tumbled backwards, hitting the water with a loud slap. 

The rush of bubbles flooded Keith’s ears and nose, and his limbs kicked about helplessly in the coolness that surrounded him. Struggling to open his eyes, the half-Galra rolled forward, paddling upwards until he finally broke the water’s surface. 

He inhaled loudly, his lungs still reeling from the shock of suddenly being plunged underwater. Looking back up to the edge of the pool, he saw Pidge stifling a laugh with a half-empty piña colada glass in her hand. 

“Oh my god, Keith! You okay?” She snorted, sounding hardly as concerned as her words implied.

“No! I fell in the pool because you scared the shit out of me! Why would you even stand that close behind me, anyway?!” Keith complained, flapping his arms to keep himself afloat.

“…No reason.” She smiled dubiously.

“…Pidge, you were definitely about to push Keith in just now.” Hunk deadpanned knowingly. 

“That…may or may not be true.” The Green Paladin poked her tongue out guiltily. “Okay, but listen, I was mad because Matt said he wouldn’t join us! So I took the recruitment process into my own hands – or, was about to, anyway.”

“…Recruitment process?” Keith raised a cautious eyebrow.

“Yes, Keith! It’s perfect, you can get your revenge on she who tried to dunk you!” Lance announced, pointing dramatically at Pidge.

“We’re doing pool wrestling. Two teams – one winner.” Pidge held up her fists back at Lance, the two seeming to be engaged in some kind of stare-off.

“Basically, you have two people on the bottom, and two on the top. You sit on each other’s shoulders, and the goal is to push the enemy team off.” Hunk explained. “It’s really fun, but you need four people to play.”

“In other words…pretty please?” Lance fawned, swimming closer to the half-Galra.

“…I’ll say yes as long as I get to not be on Pidge’s team.” Keith shot the girl a wicked grin, baring his shark-like teeth.

“Ooh, so it’s like that, huh?” Pidge placed her drink carefully on the table beside the pool, before taking a few steps back from the water’s edge. “I’ll make you regret that challenge!”

The Green Paladin took her run-up, before leaping into the air over the water. She curled her limbs together tightly, landing in the water with the force of a cannonball. The three boys were sprayed with the monstrous splashback, and Hunk was flipped from his tube.

“So rude!” Hunk groaned, pushing back his now-wet bangs. “We’re on the same team, Pidge!”

“I’m sorry, my area attacks are indiscriminate!” She laughed back.

Soon, the two teams were already getting themselves in position. Pidge had scrambled up onto Hunk’s shoulders, and the two were currently engaged in a heated discussion over their strategy.

“Do you want me to get out of the pool and slide onto your back? Or would you rather just swim up from underneath me?” Lance asked, snapping back Keith’s attention.

“Um, I don’t really care. I guess I can swim under you.” The half-Galra replied, a subtle heat rising to his cheeks.

“Okay then, when you’re ready.”

With that approval, Keith took in a deep breath and plunged himself below the surface again. He grabbed hold of Lance’s thin ankles, using them to pivot beneath his body. Then, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his stomach, he pushed himself up between the brunette’s legs, hoisting them both above the water. 

Lance’s hands latched around his head like a vice, clinging desperately as Keith tried to stabilize them both. The Blade’s fingers gripped the tops of Lance’s shorts, leaning forward as they finally stopped swaying. He wasn’t sure if his thundering pulse was from the rush of adrenaline, or the feeling of being tightly sandwiched between the Red Paladin’s thighs.

“Are you guys ready yet?” Pidge shouted from across the pool. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable, you know.”

“If you mean your inevitable defeat, then yes!” Lance retorted.

“That was a garbage comeback,” Keith said, jostling the brunette as he adjusted their position slightly.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!” Lance sulked. “Whatever, let’s just kick their butts already.”

“Okay everyone, on the count of three!” Hunk commentated. “One…two…THREE!”

Immediately, Keith launched himself forward, pushing off as best he could in the water. Lance and Pidge immediately locked fingers, trying to twist each other from one side to the other. Hunk stood firm and steady, pulling Pidge with every push to stabilize her.

“Ow ow ow! That’s my bad wrist, it only just healed!” Lance whined, his right hand bent around Pidge’s arm.

“Too bad, there’s no rules about playing dirty!” She sneered, pushing more of her weight against him.

Keith’s competitive streak suddenly took control, and his tail lashed out from beneath the surface, splashing Pidge with a wall of water. “If that’s the case, two can play at that game!”

“Argh, dammit Keith!” The Green Paladin’s hands reflexively flew to her eyes, wiping away the blinding liquid.

“Haha! This victory is as good as ours!” Lance cackled triumphantly, pushing against Pidge’s elbows and sending her toppling backwards. Hunk wobbled perilously, before flopping backwards against the water’s surface behind her.

The two paladins flailed about underwater for a moment, before bursting back up again. Pidge scowled at Keith, pointing at him with an accusatory finger.

“You!! You cheated! No tails allowed!”

“Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have a tail to splash people with, Pidge! Green is an ugly colour on you!” Lance mocked victoriously.

“…But she’s the Green Paladin?” Keith said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“No, green as in jealousy. You know, because she’s jea–ugh. Look, what’s more important here is that we kicked their butts, as promised!” Lance held out his palm expectantly, and Keith returned the high-five with a fulfilling slap.

“Hey, I think it’s a bit too early to make that call.” Hunk piped up, rising further out of the water as he stood upright. “This isn’t just some one-off match; this is a pool wrestling tournament!”

“And you won’t fool us with the same trick twice!” Pidge added.

“Don’t worry then, we’ve got lots more where that came from!” Keith goaded, grinning as the heat in his chest swelled. He was fired up again, and it was a refreshing feeling. Something he’d been missing for a long time.

It had been too long since Keith could say everything in his life was going well – but in this moment, where all of his problems seemed like tiny, far-away specks, it felt pretty damn close.

Maybe for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

“Ah….Ahh…AH-CHOOOO!”

“Ugh! Gross, Keith! Cover your mouth!” Lance whined. He used the tissue in his hand to wipe away the invisible germs down the front of his shirt.

“Sorry…” Keith sniffled, his blocked nose making his voice sound particularly nasally.

“This is what you get for swimming in wet clothes the other day, you know,” the brunette tutted, leaning forwards on the other boy’s mattress to pass the box of tissues.

Keith snatched the object from his hands. “Excuse me? It was hardly my idea to end up in the pool!” The Blade yanked a single white square from the box and held it up to his face, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m gonna go sneeze on Pidge’s pillow and give her a cold; see how she likes it.”

Lance chuckled, ruffling the other boy’s inky locks. “Geez, you’re so cranky when you’re sick.”

“And you’re patronizing!” Keith huffed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Lance’s shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better.”

“Well I would be, if you actually took the medicine Coran gave you.” The Red Paladin pointed over to Keith’s bedside table, where he’d placed the tiny tube of brown syrup.

The half-Galra groaned loudly, burying his head deeper into the crook of Lance’s neck.

Despite how sore and itchy his skin was, or how the back of his throat burned every time he swallowed, he cherished being able to spend this moment alone with Lance. Besides Hunk, they hadn’t actually told anyone yet that they were…together now. They hadn’t even discussed what they were calling it – the word dating still sounded too foreign on Keith’s tongue. 

It was because of this that they’d both been keeping up a façade of normalcy in front of their teammates. Every opportunity felt too awkward to bring things up, so they’d just been pretending that nothing had changed between them in the first place. Their relationship still only existed in secrecy – private moments of tenderness that they stole at every opportunity. But Keith felt like he was slowly suffocating, not being able to touch the Red Paladin when he wanted to – too scared of the reaction he’d get to even try. He didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

“I think we should…tell everyone about this. About us,” the half-Galra whispered anxiously, fisting his gloved hands in the hem of Lance’s shirt. He felt the brunette tense beneath him.

“…I mean, it’s not like I disagree,” Lance sighed, his voice slightly shaky as he considered the idea. “I guess I’ve been so scared of the thought of bringing it up in front of everyone that I just…haven’t.”

“But isn’t it worse, having to pretend like this?” Keith’s nails tensed, scrunching the fabric beneath them. “I hate it. I hate feeling like the entire team is always watching us, like they know it’s all some bullshit act. It feels like a band-aid that I just need to rip off – people can freak out, or whatever, and then it’s done.”

“Oh, I…I actually thought you were holding things in on purpose, because you didn’t want everyone to know about it yet,” Lance mumbled, his shoulders relaxing. “I mean, you usually just blurt stuff out when you want to share it with everyone, so I figured you weren’t quite ready to do that.”

“This is different though,” Keith rolled his head sideways, so that he could look up at the brunette’s face. “It’s like…I don’t know how to actually say it. Like, I don’t even fully understand what ‘it’ is.”

“Well, what do you want it to be?” Lance’s cobalt irises searched the half-Galra’s expression, probing for a reaction.

Instead of giving one, Keith flopped back onto his mattress in frustration. “I don’t knooooow,” he complained, looping his legs over the Red Paladin’s as he used to pillow to hide his face. “I just want to be close to you, and touch you, and…and stuff like that! It shouldn’t be this complicated!”

Lance stifled a gentle laugh, rubbing circles around the other boy’s knee. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed about this. Look, how about we…we make it official at dinner tonight? We’ll tell everyone that we’re seeing each other now, and it’ll probably be kinda weird, but then it’ll be over;” he gave the Blade’s leg a confident pat. “Just like a band-aid.”

Keith craned his neck to look back at the brunette again. “…Okay. I, um, I’d like that.” His cheeks reddened in response.

“Oh, but uh, I think I’d better be the one who tells them,” Lance said, averting his gaze. “Your usual approach might be a little too blunt for the situation.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith scowled, jerking his knee out from under Lance’s palm.

“That you might make Allura faint if I let you tell everyone. Maybe even Coran.”

Keith pulled the pillow from behind his head, pouting childishly as he thumped Lance square in the arm.

“Ow, hey!” The Red Paladin chuckled, batting the soft weapon away. “You know I’m right!”

The Blade simply rolled his eyes in response, sighing in defeat as he threw his head back against the mattress. While he somewhat resented Lance’s remarks, he supposed he wasn’t about to complain about getting out of making the announcement himself. And, as Lance continued the gentle ministrations across Keith’s lower thigh, he realized that may have been the real motivation behind the brunette’s actions the entire time.

Stupid Lance, he muttered to himself, swishing his tail delightedly as a tingling warmth pooled in his stomach.

--

Unfortunately, as much as Keith would have liked to spend all day hiding out with Lance in his bedroom, it wasn’t long before Allura dragged them both away for another one of her team-building exercises. At least, that was what she referred to it as; Keith was pretty sure that cleaning and polishing the Lions had very little ‘bonding’ merit.

By the time they’d all finished scrubbing the Lions’ coloured metal bodies, ‘until they could see their own reflections in them’ as Allura had put it, the five of them were ready to collapse. Keith gave an irritated scowl as he tugged off the straps of his borrowed jetpack, tossing it to one side as he hunched against the Black Lion’s paw – somehow he’d been the one asked to clean her, since Shiro and Allura both got out of helping to organise their peace-making trip to Argolis.

“Okay, Black’s officially spotless. Can I roll over and die now?” Keith grumbled, running fingers through his matted bangs.

“Only if you kill me first.” Matt called back from across the room, his head obscured by one of the Blue Lion’s hooked claws.

“Nobody’s dying, guys,” Hunk huffed, sounding equally drained. “Besides, I think Pidge already beat you to it.”

The two boys glanced towards the Green Paladin, who was sprawled out face-down on the floor like a starfish. Keith couldn’t help but snort under his breath – they were all definitely done for the day.

“Well, I think my appetite’s probably gonna rival Keith’s at dinner tonight.” Lance announced, strolling forward to stand amongst the other four. Somehow, he was the only one of them still on their feet. 

“Rude. Maybe my appetite’s so big I might just eat you instead.” The half-Galra shot back an affronted look, but was soothed slightly by the outstretched hand offered towards him. He grasped it firmly, feeling himself hoisted back onto his feet. Keith didn’t miss the way the brunette blushed at the sudden closeness of their faces, before hurriedly turning away.

“Luckily, Coran volunteered to cook tonight, so you won’t have to resort to that.” Hunk smiled slyly, taking notice of the display. He was still the only person who knew about Keith and Lance’s relationship, which was surprising considering how terrible they both seemed to be at keeping their feelings in check. 

“…I want…food…” Pidge murmured against the floor, startling everyone with her zombie-like voice.

“Then you’re gonna have to get off your lazy butt, Pidgeon.” Matt badgered, scooting across the floor to bat her lightly with his foot.

The Green Paladin’s response was a loud and somewhat pitiful groan, and Keith knew that they all shared the sentiment – the five of them were completely spent.

Giving Lance’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it, the Blade allowed his rumbling stomach to lead him to the dining hall, hearing his teammates plodding along close behind.

They all sat down at the dinner table, just in time for Coran to proudly announce that the food was ready. Hunk jerked to his feet, eager to assist in carrying out everyone’s meals, while Matt stood up as well to fetch Shiro and Allura from the bridge. Keith smacked his lips together in anticipation, his mouth watering at the fragrance of freshly warmed goo. 

“I thought Keith was kidding about eating you, Lance, but now I’m not so sure.” Pidge snickered, pointing at the half-Galra as his nostrils flared hungrily.

“Maybe that’s just because he’s gonna eat you instead!” Lance goaded back, raising his hands above his head and imitating his boyfriend’s pointed claws.

“I’ll eat both of you if you don’t cut it out.” Keith grunted, planting his elbow on the table and resting his chin against his palm. He curled his finger up grumpily to scratch at his blocked nose, praying impatiently for everyone to hurry up and join them at the table.

Luckily, it was only a short moment before Matt returned with the other two paladins, who pardoned themselves as they sat in their respective seats. Hunk and Coran followed shortly after, their arms packed with dishes of glistening green food goo. Keith blanched a little at the fact that he could easily pick his own portion from the bunch.

Barely waiting a second before their plates hit the table, the majority of Team Voltron – that is, those who’d been scrubbing, buffing and polishing the Lions for the past few hours – dug voraciously into their food. Coran, Shiro, and Allura looked only mildly alarmed as they picked up their own spoons to begin eating.

The room was quiet save for the steady clatter of tableware, but Keith could barely hear a thing over the drumming pulse in his ears. He gnawed on the utensil in his mouth, swallowing down his food a little thicker than necessary as he felt a nervous dread building in his stomach. He shot Lance an expectant glance, anxiously flicking his gaze between the brunette and the other paladins.

Catching the hint, the Red Paladin awkwardly cleared his throat before rising from his seat. His hand was still gripped around his spoon so tightly, Keith thought it was a wonder he hadn’t snapped it clean in half yet.

“S–so, um. I don’t mean to interrupt everyone’s dinner, but I–we…have something we need to announce.”

“’We’?” Allura’s eyebrow quirked reflexively.

“M–m–me and Keith. Or, uh, Keith and I? Us. Lance and Keith.” The brunette seemed to become more and more tense as he continued to roll their names around together in his mouth. “Anyway, um. So. You remember how Keith came back and pretended to be sick so everyone wouldn’t know he was turning all Galra-y?” 

“Yes, we’re all up to speed on that one,” Shiro supplied, trying to push the point along.

“Right! Right. So uh, actually I guess it goes back to before then. S–see, uh, I guess Keith and I haven’t always gotten along very well–”

“No duh.” Pidge interrupted, earning a flustered glare from Lance. 

“–but lately, we’ve kinda been hanging out more and stuff! Like, uh, there was actually this one time where we–oh!” The Red Paladin jumped at the sound of metal clattering to the floor, his spoon being squeezed so forcefully that it had popped out of his grasp.

“Lance, is this going somewhere?” Allura piped up again, tipping her head to watch the brunette retrieve his silverware. “Usually one tends to have their point gathered before they make an announcement.”

“You’re right, Princess! M–my apologies!”

Keith ran an exhausted palm down his face. So much for the band-aid-approach – listening to Lance fumble about trying to make his point was like pulling teeth, or even having them pushed out of his gums all over again.

“W–what I guess I’m trying to say is, we had a lot of time to talk. And you know how, like, when you talk to people, it’s…actually, it’s kinda like in this movie call–”

“Lance and I are dating!”

Keith hadn’t even meant to blurt it out. Somehow, it seemed his impatience had overwritten his apprehension, and the words had suddenly burst from his lips like a party-popper. And, much like the immediate aftermath of a party-popper, the room was very, very silent after that. In fact, the only noise that the Blade heard was Lance’s spoon rattling against the floor for a second time.

Unexpectedly, the brunette worked up the courage to sputter out, “w–what he said,” before sheepishly returning to his seat. He didn’t even reach down to retrieve his spoon, instead choosing to stare red-faced at his food goo like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

The wordless reaction continued to hang oppressively over the room, and Keith was about ready to bite off his own tongue at this point. Whether that killed him or not, at least it would prevent him from saying anything that stupidly impulsive again. 

“This…is…” Coran’s voice slowly began, barely above a whisper, “…WONDERFUL NEWS!” he exclaimed suddenly, leaping from his chair. “They do say that war is one of the greatest places for love to blossom, so I’m just glad that the two of you were able to find each other like this!”

“Are…are you crying?” Keith stammered in disbelief.

“He’s happy for you, Keith, as am I!” Allura smiled genuinely. “You and Lance have both grown leaps and bounds these past few months, so it’s truly pleasing to hear of your new relationship! May you continue to grow stronger together!”

“Y–yeah uh, congratulations guys!” Matt awkwardly shot a thumbs-up in their direction.

“I knew it!” Pidge squawked. “I knew I saw you two making googly eyes at each other in the hangar! And at breakfast this morning! And in combat training yesterday…and in the pool!” 

“Gee, it’s almost like you had it all worked out…oh wait, only you didn’t!” Lance taunted the Green Paladin playfully, bouncing back incredibly quickly from his earlier panic.

“Alright you two, let’s not ruin the mood,” Shiro tutted, pacifying the youngest paladins. “Keith, Lance, you’ve both come so far since this journey began – it’s almost hard to believe that all you used to do is bicker and argue about everything. While the news is surprising–”

“Not to all of us,” Hunk chimed in, winking directly at Pidge. The Green Paladin was clearly affronted by the dawning revelation.

“–we’re all proud that you were comfortable enough to share it with us, and we couldn’t wish better for the both of you.”

Keith’s cheeked reddened at the sentiment. “Th–thanks, Shiro. Um, everyone, I mean.” While the Blade could have happily hidden under the table for the rest of the night, he was glad he stuck around to hear the support of his teammates. It made his feelings for Lance seem more validated; more real, somehow. The half-Galra felt a warm hand snake underneath the table and nudge at his own, and he squeezed back tightly, stroking comfortingly at the brunette’s calloused palm. 

Dinner continued much more calmly after that, the contented hum of chatter swirling around the room as Keith simply basked in the relief that had washed over him. He and Lance were officially dating now he guessed, since that’s what he’d apparently chosen to call it in the spur of the moment – and everyone had accepted it so easily. The half-Galra wasn’t used to things going this smoothly for him, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain.

A little more towards the end of their meal, Allura stood up from her seat, wearing a slightly more serious expression than before.

“Sorry everyone, I didn’t want to overshadow Lance and Keith’s announcement, but I do have one of my own.” The Altean paused, waiting for all seven pairs of eyes to focus on her before she continued. “As you all know, Shiro and I have spent the afternoon making arrangements with both the Argolians and Kalkarans, to secure our separate passages to their planets. To enable us to resolve any potential fallout in Argolis, and return to the Castle as promptly as possible, Shiro, Matt and myself will be flying out tonight. We’ll be taking the Blue and Black Lions with us, and Coran will be in charge until our return.”

“The Princess has already given me the full details of our arrival in Kalkara, so there’s nothing to worry about!” Coran added. “We’ll be dropping by the medical research HQ to pass on the earlier samples we were able to extract from Keith, and then it’ll simply be a matter of waiting for the results. In the meantime, we’ll also have ample opportunity to explore the resistance’s quintessence-capital. Trust me – it’s quite a sight to behold!”

“I’ve actually stopped by a couple of times with my team to trade recovered Galran quintessence shipments; you guys are gonna love it there.” Matt concurred. 

“And what about you three, then?” Hunk probed. “What’s the plan for Argolis?”

“Well, we’ve done a little research into the current economic situation there to help with negotiations,” Shiro responded. “Using some of Voltron’s current trade connections, we’re hoping to offer full financial support to build a major supply link through their system. This will help create thousands of jobs, and significantly boost both their interplanetary traffic and income, providing great opportunity for continued growth and development.” 

“Wow Shiro, I never knew you were such a talented economist,” Pidge exclaimed, genuinely impressed. 

“Actually, most of this was your brother’s idea, so it’s him you should really be complimenting.”

“Yeah Pidge, please redirect your praise this way.” Matt gloated. The Green Paladin stuck out her tongue in response.

“Anyway, there’s still no guarantee this plan will satisfy the Argolians. After all, we did kill one of their Generals.” The Black Paladin lamented. 

“In our defense, he tried to kill us first!” Lance objected.

“Regardless, we now have the responsibility of owning up to the consequences,” Allura shook her head with a sense of finality. “The three of us will depart in approximately four vargas, so please consider any affairs you may wish to attend to in the meantime. May you have safe passage into Kalkara.”

“And you into Argolis,” Pidge added. “Don’t bite off more than you guys can chew.”

“Aww, are you worried about us?” Matt reached over to pinch his sister’s cheek, earning a hard slap in response. 

“We’ll all be worried about you,” Hunk affirmed. “Be careful out there, guys.”

“Of course,” Shiro gave a reassuring smile.

“Now now, let’s not dwell on the negatives! We’ll be holding down things here until you get back, so let’s both have some wins for the Alliance!” Coran’s pep-talk helped to quash everyone’s underlying nerves, igniting a determined fire in their eyes. There wasn’t anything to worry about – hell, they were the defenders of the universe. If anyone could do this, it was them. 

At least, that was how most of them seemed to feel in that moment. But even though Keith was feeling a little more assured, he couldn’t ignore the heavy lump of concern still nestled in the pit of his stomach.

“Alright everyone, let’s clean up the table and get moving.” With Shiro’s final command, everyone was spurred into motion. They all picked up their plates, filing towards the dishwasher to dispose of them. Everyone then made to part ways, each with their respective plans to attend to before the Argolis team departed later that night. As Shiro made for his exit, however, Keith stepped up behind him.

“Um, Shiro. I know you’re probably busy getting ready for the mission, but do you have time to talk?”

The Black Paladin raised a curious eyebrow, but still smiled back reassuringly at the half-Galra. “Of course, Keith. I’ve got to head to my room and pack right now, but you’re welcome to join me if you want.”

Keith hummed in agreement, following his brother down the hall towards his quarters. His eyes trailed the lights across the ceiling, noticing how they seemed to have taken on a slightly yellower tint since he last recalled looking at them. In fact, everything seemed to be a little more golden-hued than he remembered.

“Well, are you coming?” Shiro chuckled, tipping his head towards his open door. It was then that Keith realized they’d both stopped walking, and he had been blankly standing in front of his brother’s bedroom for a good thirty seconds. 

“Y-yeah, sorry.” He shook his head bashfully, stepping forward into the room. The Blade immediately noticed how much homelier it felt compared to his own – a few scattered photographs of the team, several medals and knick-knacks gathered on some of Voltron’s past missions, and even a few random items of clothing strewn about made the Black Paladin’s room feel so much more lived in. The entire room just screamed ‘Shiro’ – he could hardly imagine his own barren quarters having the same impact. 

“Sorry, I’ve got a few things to do so I’m just gonna be packing my bag around you,” Shiro said from inside his wardrobe, as he retrieved a black duffle and flung it onto his bed. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

Keith gingerly sat down on the mattress beside the bag, tucking his legs up to try and keep out of the way. “Well, I don’t know how to say it without feeling really dumb, but…I don’t want you to go to Argolis.” 

Shiro’s hands froze in the middle of folding one of his undershirts. “…I’m sorry you feel that way, Keith, but we can’t leave things the way they are. If we’re not careful, further conflict could brea–”

“I know that! I’m not saying we shouldn’t go to Argolis! I’m just saying…” The half-Galra pulled his knees tighter, resting his chin on top of them meekly. “…that I don’t want you to go.”

The Black Paladin gave a heavy sigh, tossing the folded stack of clothing on top of his bag as he flopped down next to Keith. “Where’s this coming from? You’re usually the first person to put the mission above everything else. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing with the Blade of Marmora the last few months?”

“It’s not like that. I’d put a mission above my own life, but not someone else’s.” The half-Galra rolled his head to one side, avoiding his brother’s gaze. “That’s why Kolivan said I was no good for the Blades.”

Shiro gave Keith’s head a gentle pat, the metal of his hand feeling cool against the other boy’s scalp. “In that case, maybe he’s right. You being here has done a lot of good for everyone, you know – after all, Lance isn’t the only one that missed you.”

“Then that means…you should understand why I don’t want you to go.” Keith sniffed, rubbing his nose against his knee.

“Wh–hey now, don’t cry! Lance is coming to Kalkara with you, and it shouldn’t be more than a few days that we’re go–”

“I’m not crying; I have a cold!” Keith snapped defensively. His head shot up to glare directly at the Black Paladin, as if to prove the dryness of his eyes.

Shiro simply laughed, holding up his hands innocently. “Okay, okay! My bad!”

Keith’s expression drooped, his irritation being washed away with a look of solemnness. “First it was Kerberos. Then it was the wormhole that dumped you in the middle of a crater. Then after that it was the Black Lion returning to the castle without you inside it. I’ve already lost you so many times, Shiro!” The half-Galra’s claws tightened around the fabric of his jeans. “I’m so scared... scared that one day, the only part of you I’ll find is your body.”

The Black Paladin sat wordlessly for a moment, before leaning forward and wrapping his strong arms around his brother. He squeezed him tightly, enough to show he wasn’t letting go any time soon – that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m so sorry I’ve put you through that so many times, Keith. To be honest…that’s something that scares me too. You never know when your last day will come – in all of those times, there were moments where I truly believed it was then and there, too.” Shiro stroked his fingers down the half-Galra’s back, dipping up and down over the ridges of his spine. “But neither of us are alone now. We’re both part of this team, and we’re all looking out for each other. Nothing will happen to me, because I know that none of you will let it. Remember when you flew Black out of that crater? I didn’t die that day, because you were there looking out for me. I have complete faith that Matt and Allura would do the same, and so should you.”

“I know that…I trust them, too.” Keith sighed into Shiro’s shoulder, feeling a little calmer. Pulling back a little, his brother released his grip, allowing the Blade to sit upright again. “Before now, I’ve never really let myself get close to everyone. It was easier to act like it didn’t hurt as much to lose people if I just kept my distance from them first. But Lance has made me realize I like…letting people in, even if it’s strange or uncomfortable sometimes.” Keith’s hands fidgeted in his lap as he continued. “But now I’m just even more terrified of the thought that something might happen to the people I care about, and I won’t have any walls up to protect me anymore.”

“If those walls were keeping me, and Lance, and the rest of the team from you, then I say let them crumble,” Shiro said softly, leaning forward to meet Keith’s yellow eyes. “Every good relationship you build becomes like a pillar, there to hold you up when you can’t stand by yourself anymore. Let the team be your pillars, and you won’t need all those walls.” 

Keith lowered his head yieldingly. “…I’ll try.”

“Good!” The older boy grinned, prodding the Blade lightly in the chest. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay? I’ve got my own pillars holding me up.”

“Right.” Keith let a small smile slip past his lips, which widened as Shiro ruffled his hair in satisfaction.

With the mood lightened by Shiro’s reassurance, Keith helped his brother finish his packing, enjoying their last night together without letting his mind be clouded by ‘what-if’s. Even if the positivity felt somewhat forced, the half-Galra understood why the rest of the team were always so optimistic. It wasn’t out of naivety – it was trust that they could get through even the worst situation. It might have felt a little fake, but for once, Keith permitted himself to believe it, too.

Once Shiro was finally all set, the two brothers made their way over to the Lion hangar. Matt, Allura, and the rest of the team were already there, ready to bid their farewells as the trio departed for Argolis. 

“Excellent, that’s everyone then!” Coran announced. “You won’t have to worry about a thing, Princess – Team Coran will ensure all goes smoothly in Kalkara, and we’ll look forward to your eventual arrival!”

“’Team Coran’? I don’t remember agreeing to this rebranding.” Pidge disputed.

After sharing a group hug, at Hunk’s insistence, the Argolis team began boarding their Lions ready to fly out. While Keith observed ‘Team Coran’ engaging in a heated debate about their new name, he took the opportunity to quickly duck over towards Blue. 

“Allura!” He called out, catching the Princess’s attention as she stood a few steps from her Lion’s mouth.

“Oh, Keith! Was there something you wished to tell me?”

He stopped a few feet away from her, noticing how strange it was to now stand taller than the Altean. “Just…look out for Shiro, okay? I mean, and Matt, too. And yourself.” He furrowed his eyebrows – he was talking in circles. “Um, don’t do anything dangerous, like…”

“…Like something you would do?” Allura smirked teasingly.

“…Yeah, that.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Allura let out a light chuckle. “Such concern is a new look for you.” The Princess lifted her helmet, placing it over her head as she continued. “Keith, it’s natural to worry about others – we’re all worried for you, as well. But I choose to believe that Kalkara will have the answers you’re seeking, as should you choose to believe we can restore peace with the Argolians.”

“How can you just…believe that, though? When you don’t have any way of knowing if you’ll be right?”

Slipping one foot into the cockpit, Allura turned back boldly towards the Blade. “Do you not see? It’s that very faith that powers the Alliance…and it’s what will win this war.”

With that, Blue’s jaw clamped shut, and the Lion’s eyes flashed to life. Keith stumbled a few steps backward, somewhat in awe of the Princess’s confidence. Suddenly, he felt like he understood how their work was different to what he’d been doing with the Blades. The Marmorans saved a lot of people, sure, but they lacked the influence Voltron was able to evoke. They didn’t inspire people that this war could be won, the way Voltron did.

With a triumphant roar, the two Lions launched into the air, gliding swiftly as they left the hangar. The five remaining paladins watched on as the thrusters kicked in, and their teammates disappeared off into the distance.

Decisively, Coran clapped his hands together. “Alrighty! With those three off to Argolis, we can expect to land in Kalkara tomorrow morning. Make sure you all get a good night’s sleep, so you’re well rested for Team Coran’s debut mission!”

“Still didn’t agree to that!” Pidge yelled back, already walking back towards her quarters. Coran shuffled behind her, seeming far too exuberant for the current time of night.

“Well, ‘night, guys!” Hunk waved to Lance and Keith, also making his way back towards his room.

Now the only two left in the hangar, Keith turned to face the brunette, feeling his cheeks flush softly. Upon doing so, the other boy bowed, shooting him a flirtatious wink and extending his hand forward. 

“May I escort my sweet, purple prince to the bedroom?”

“You’re so embarrassing.” Keith gritted, feeling his face burn even hotter as he took Lance’s hand anyway.

“And you’re an easy target.” He responded smoothly, swinging their arms playfully as he guided the half-Galra down the hallway. 

Their fingers stayed tightly interlocked all the way to Keith’s doorstep, where Lance swiveled around to stand opposite the taller boy. He bit his lip, seeming to contemplate something for a long, hard while.

“Um…goodnight?” The Blade stuttered, unsure whether to interrupt his train of thought.

“Ah! Y-yeah, goodnight!” The brunette jolted, teetering on his feet awkwardly before tugging Keith into a sudden hug. It was almost too tight, pushing all of the air out of the half-Galra’s lungs and leaving him slightly winded. He then quickly pulled back, wobbling a little as he spun around and stomped off towards his own room.

Keith stood in front of his door for a moment, still feeling rather dazed from the abrupt hug-and-run. What the hell was that about? He thought to himself, shaking his head as he entered his bedroom.

Yanking his too-tight shirt over his head, struggling to get it past his elbows, Keith plopped down onto his mattress. He slid beneath his covers, wrapping his tail comfortably around his middle as he immediately felt the fuzziness of sleep take hold.

His mind swam lazily in the darkness, the half-Galra feeling weightless as he floated through his slumberous haze. Like the flicker of a distant candle, he saw shapes begin to dance in his vision, filling in the picture before him. It was then that he realized that he was looking down at his own hands – still purple, clawed.

He lifted his head, recognizing the familiar surroundings of the Castleship. But something felt peculiar about the situation, like he wasn’t quite supposed to be there. Suddenly, a voice crackled through his earpiece.

“Lieutenant, respond. Was infiltration successful?” The voice at the other end of the line was gruff and menacing. A wicked chill prickled at the back of Keith’s neck – he had a bad feeling about this.

 The concerns were immediately validated as his own voice answered, outside of his control. “Affirmative – the Castle of Lions has been breached. Officer Azrith will be seizing control of the ship’s main defense systems to deactivate their barriers, while I’ll be guarding the perimeter to make sure nobody interrupts.”

“Good to hear – don’t be afraid to let a few heads roll if you happen to get the chance, Lietenant. Vrepit sah.”

“Vrepit sah.” His traitorous mouth responded. Keith wanted to scream, to swear, to do anything right now, but his tongue refused to cooperate. His eyes panned down over his body again, where he recognized the uniform he was wearing.

It was the military gear of the Galran Empire. He was a part of Zarkon’s forces, and from the sound of it, about to do something really, really bad for Team Voltron.

“Hey, it’s Azrith.” A female voice stated through his headset. “I can see one o’ them guys coming down the hall on the tracking radar. You might wanna go take care o’ him, ‘fore he sends in some friends.”

“On it,” Keith involuntarily replied. His hands reached down to his thigh, drawing a long, curved sword from its sheath. The blade was lit up by a bright fuschia light running up its length, and the handle was worn from what appeared to be heavy use. Feeling his leg muscles tense, the half-Galra found himself quietly creeping down the corridor, prepared to face whoever dared to approach.

Please don’t come closer, Keith chanted to himself. Please don’t make me fight anyone. Please don’t make me do this.

Unfortunately, the Blade had no control over the reality shaping itself before him, and a figure clad in paladin armor jumped out from around the corner.

“Tell Zarkon this is where he can stick his plan for intergalactic domination!” Pidge shouted, lunging forward with her bayard.

Keith wasn’t at all phased by the attack, however, easily dodging to one side and grabbing hold of the Green Paladin’s arm. He felt her struggle beneath his crushing grip, before the limb suddenly seem to bulge beyond the span of his hand. 

“You want some of this, huh?” Hunk goaded, hoisting his cannon onto his shoulder. “Why don’t you try this on for size?” The Yellow Paladin shot a blast of hot blue energy at Keith, singeing past his cheek as he narrowly avoided the hit.

The half-Galra’s tail whipped up from behind him, wrapping around Hunk’s bayard and yanking it from his clutch. He pitched the cannon behind them both, readying his sword for a counterattack. 

“I don’t need a weapon to defeat the likes of you!” Allura spat, holding her fists up high in a sparring position before lunging forward at Keith. He effortlessly blocked each swing with the blade, before snagging her wrist in the handle and twisting. The Blue Paladin let out a shriek of pain as the crunch of bone rattled through Keith’s eardrums.

Please, stop, no more, Keith screamed internally, wishing he could just wake up, wake up, wake up–

“Heh, it’ll take more than that to keep me down,” Shiro cockily declared, sparks crackling from his damaged mechanical wrist. Using his other hand, the Black Paladin bent the sword sideways, managing to wretch it from Keith’s grip. That only seemed to anger him further, however, and Keith’s hands launched themselves at his brother’s throat, pinning him against the wall. 

He could feel the sickening sensation of a windpipe contracting beneath him palms, hear the desperate gasps and chokes as he squeezed even tighter around the neck in his grasp. 

“You monsters…will never…win…” Lance rasped, his gurgling sputters of breath making it hard to decipher what he was saying. His thrashing legs began to slow, and a cough of dark red blood was the last sign of life the Red Paladin gave before falling completely limp under Keith’s crushing hold.

Abruptly, the half-Galra lurched up from his mattress. His entire body was trembling, covered in a layer of cold sweat. His throat felt hoarse, as if he’d been screaming as loudly in real life as he thought he was in his dream. Keith had to do everything in his power to force the bile back down, but he couldn’t stop the petrified sob that bubbled past his lips. 

He knew none of what he saw was real. But he couldn’t shake the disgusting things he watched himself do, or the contorted faces of his teammates as he mercilessly slaughtered them. And he did it all wearing the face of one of those monsters…the same face he was stuck with right now.

Balling up his blanket, Keith hiccupped softly to himself as he padded out of his bedroom and down the hallway, making his way towards the only person who he wanted to see right now. The only one he’d ever let see him like this. 

“Wh…Keith…? Is everything okay?” Lance murmured, still tangled in a drowsy haze.

The half-Galra shook his head, flopping into the brunette’s arms like dead weight and almost dragging them both to the floor.

“Whoa, hey! You’re really heavy, you know!” Lance groaned, steadying them both as he ran his fingers down Keith’s back. “What’s wrong? You’re…you’re shaking a lot. Did something happen?”

“…Bad dream.” He whispered, sounding so fragile that the brunette decided not to probe any further.

“Do you…wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

Keith simply nodded against Lance’s shoulder, prompting the other boy to help guide him towards his own bed. The Red Paladin pushed his sheets across, making more space for the half-Galran. 

“Okay, here you go. I’ll get in first, and then you can squeeze in next to me, alright?” Lance huddled up against the wall, and the Blade soon filled the remaining space, wrapping his five limbs around his boyfriend as he buried his head against the other boy’s warm chest.

Keith listened to the brunette’s steady breathing, trying to use it as an anchor for his own. He finally allowed his muscles to relax a little, basking in the soothing presence beside him.

Gently, Lance’s hand smoothed down his hair, trailing along the tufts that reached between his shoulder blades. “…If you wanna talk about this tomorrow, you can tell me. But just get some rest for tonight, okay?”

The half-Galra heeded the advice, letting his eyelids flutter closed. He could still hear his boyfriend’s quiet breaths, which eventually became soft snores as he drifted off again. He pictured Lance’s thin legs entangled with his own, and his ruffled bed hair splayed out across the pillow. But no matter how hard he tried, the only face he could imagine was the one that he’d strangled the life out of.

The one that reminded him he was a monster.

Chapter Text

When Keith woke up the next morning, there were three things he noticed. The first was the rawness of his throat, still aching from the night before. The second was, to his relief, the clearness of his sinuses.

And the third was an empty bed.

“…Lance?” the half-Galra managed to rasp, gently rubbing the muscles in his neck as his head swiveled around the room, searching for any signs of the other boy. Instead, it seemed the only trace of him was a folded stack of clothing in the middle of the floor – one of Keith’s black t-shirts and his fingerless gloves. He supposed the brunette must’ve retrieved them from his quarters earlier that morning.

Keith let out a shuddering sigh, not having expected to wake up alone. Memories of his dream last night still flashed in and out of his mind, and the Blade bit his lip to try and distract himself. The taste of blood provided only minimal reprieve from the words that echoed inside his head.

Monsters…like you…

Lance’s voice repeated it back to him once again. Even if he knew the other boy would never say something like that, it didn’t change the way that each syllable stung like a knife twisting in his chest.

It felt like a distant memory – barely even real to him anymore – that he’d once believed he was nothing other than ordinary. Completely dull; the kind of person you’d forget in a crowd without even trying. He’d never really liked standing out, anyway.

But now he was 6-foot something of gawky purple limbs, with glowing yellow beacons for eyes and a mouthful of jagged white teeth. He didn’t have the same sleekness or stoicism as a full-blooded alien – he was rather runty compared to any of the Marmorans. But that seemed to have little effect on the presence he now unwillingly commanded.

To everyone, he was a Galra now.

“Gooooood morning, my slumbering angel! My sweet ravenette, the light of my life, my moon and sta–oh god you’re crying.” Lance’s lively expression immediately drooped, a concerned furrow crinkling across his brow instead. The towering plate of doughy-looking pancakes in his hands were thrust to the bedside table, and the brunette instead rushed over to where Keith was still sitting amongst the covers.

“–m’not crying.” The half-Galra croaked, scowling as he brought his hand up to his cheeks and found they were, in fact, damp with tears. Embarrassed, he scrubbed at his eyes until all he could see was static. It took a few seconds before he felt ready to pull his hands away again. “…Where did you go? I woke up expecting you to be there, and you…weren’t.” 

“I…I just wanted to surprise you.” Lance frowned guiltily, gesturing towards the stack of food beside him. It had to have been at least fifteen pancakes; they were thick and fluffy, glistening with pink-coloured syrup.

Exhaling deeply, Keith scooched to the edge of the mattress, swinging his legs over the side as he held out his hands. Perking back up, Lance slid the plate back off the bedside table, placing it precariously on the half-Galra’s lap.

Keith’s eyes scanned up and down the lofty stack, smelling the slightest hint of blueberry. “When did you…how did you make all of this?” 

“Hunk’s not the only gourmet chef on this ship, I’ll have you know! Though I did have to ask him for some advice on a few ingredient substitutes.” The brunette dipped his pinky in some of the syrup, twirling it to catch the sticky pink dribbles. “I made the sauce out of these weird space fruits – they look like raspberries, but they taste like blueberries!”

“Huh.” Keith nodded contemplatively. “Um, thanks for making this for me.”

“Ugh, no, don’t thank me! I mean, I was meant to be back here before you woke up! The last thing I wanted to do after last night was…was make you feel like I’d abandoned you.” Lance quietened for a moment, watching as Keith curiously prodded the topmost pancake with his finger. “…Did you…want to tell me about it? About your dream?” 

“Um. Not really.” The Blade looked away evasively, reaching for the fork that sat carefully balanced behind the looming stack. He continued to ignore the concerned eyes boring into him as he skewered the mound of food, somewhat alarmed at the way it seemed to deflate beneath the puncture.

Pulling off a bite-sized chunk, Keith gingerly slipped the wedge of gooey pancake into his mouth. Whatever he was expecting to happen, it certainly wasn’t the delighted moan that escaped past his lips. His taste buds sang at the taste of honey and cinnamon swirling over his tongue, followed by the burst of tartness from the syrup.

“Wow, uh…sounds like I did pretty good?” Lance stammered, his face slightly flushed over the euphoric noise Keith had just made.

“Are you kidding me? These are…they’re fucking amazing, Lance. When the hell did you get so good at cooking?”

“Oh, nah, it’s really just pancakes.” The brunette waved his hand dismissively. “Every year for my mum’s birthday, I’d make her breakfast in bed. It was always the same order – three cinnamon batter pancakes, with blueberry syrup, and a dollop of whipped cream on top.” He listed the ingredients with a far-off fondness in his eyes, as though each one evoked a special memory.

Keith simply gave a gentle nod, not wanting to shatter Lance’s moment of private nostalgia. Instead, he took another mouthful of food, feeling his teeth glide through the pillowy cake with zero resistance.

The two remained sitting together in comfortable silence, even as they each tucked away the thoughts of a conversation they didn’t want to have – Keith of his dream last night, and Lance of his feelings of homesickness.

As the half-Galra continued to chip away at the tower of food, he could feel the Red Paladin’s eyes wandering over his body. They lingered here and there, exploring every little feature that hadn’t been present a few months ago. He knew the other boy was only curious, but his skin still prickled beneath the relentless scrutiny.

“Um, I know this is a weird question, but…” Lance began, his hands fidgeting with the bed sheets. “Wait, actually, never mind.”

Keith rolled his eyes, the fork still hanging from between his lips. “You can’t just say that and then go ‘oh, never mind’. Tell me.”

“Well…I wanted to ask if you’d let me touch your tail.” 

“…What?” 

“I don’t know! I mean, I know you let me hold it for like three whole seconds after you came out of the healing pod, but i–it was really soft, and kinda cool, and…ugh, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” Lance’s face was bright red, his eyes staring intently at the floor.

“I–I mean…I don’t really mind if it’s you,” Keith replied, scratching his cheek. “But I don’t really get why it’s that exciting.”

Placing his now-empty plate on the bedside table again, the half-Galra twisted around on the mattress, edging himself closer to Lance. His tail swished behind him, nudging against the brunette’s knee invitingly.

“A–a–are you sure?” Lance stammered, hands hovering uncertainly above the appendage. “It’s not too weird?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

“No, okay, I’m…I’m touching it now then!”

Looking over his shoulder, Keith watched the other boy’s trembling hands slowly descend, fingertips twitching as they finally brushed against his fifth limb. Gently, Lance eased the rest of his palm down to touch it, smoothing over the velvety skin.

“Wow, it’s…it’s scaly, but kinda silky, too.” Lance’s eyes were wide with wonder. “I didn’t expect it to be this warm, either.”

The Red Paladin continued to knead the tail with his slender fingers, feeling out the thick tendons running up its length. The occasional gasp of awe escaped his lips every now and then, as he curiously stroked up and down Keith’s newest appendage.

Meanwhile, the half-Galra found himself flustered at the strange sensation of Lance’s cool palms exploring his body so thoroughly. A tingling blush crept up his cheeks, and he clenched his knuckles to try and suppress the way his body reacted to the contact. He felt so malleable; pliant beneath the other boy’s soothing ministrations – it was perhaps a little more overwhelming than he’d originally anticipated. 

“...Lance…” Keith groaned, turning to watch the brunette still stroking the skin of his tail. Just as he went to suggest maybe easing up a little, however, Keith’s breath hitched in his throat as fingernails raked through the trail of hair at the base of his spine.

“Whoa, I thought this hair would be really coarse, but it’s super-soft!” Lance marveled, grazing upwards through the dark tufts. Abruptly, Keith’s hand snapped around his wrist, halting the movement.

“Th-that’s enough!” The half-Galra hissed a little too frantically, flicking the other boy’s hand away. He twisted his head forward again, trying to hide the deep red flush that burned all the way down to his neck. 

“Oh, sorry! Um, was that too much?” Lance timidly held his hands to his chest, eyeing the back of Keith’s head with caution. 

“Uh, maybe…maybe a little.” The Blade turned his body back around to face the brunette, trying to reassure him with his expression. “It’s okay though, I um…just wasn’t expecting it to feel like that.”

“Oh man, was I hurting you? Dude, you should have sai–”

“No, it wasn’t hurting! It was…it was a nice feeling.”

“Oh…oh.” Realising what he meant, Lance face paralleled the redness of his boyfriend’s.

Trying to quickly dispel the awkwardness, Keith sprang to his feet and walked over to the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor. “Anyway! We should um, probably go meet everyone to disembark in Kalkara soon.” Bending down with slight difficulty, he picked up his t-shirt and tugged it over his head, struggling again with the tightness as he pulled it over his chest.

“You know, I think it might be time for you to get some new clothes,” Lance observed. “Even your jeans are looking a bit snug.”

“Ugh…I hate clothes shopping,” Keith pouted, fully aware that the brunette had a valid point.

“Well, from the sound of what Coran said, we’re gonna have some time to kill in Kalkara while we wait for the lab results, anyway. May as well do something productive,” he shrugged, watching as Keith picked up one of his gloves and forced his fingers through the too-small finger holes. “Also, speaking of clothes, do you know what happened to my jacket?” 

A look of guilt flashed across the Blade’s face. “Um. No, why would I?”

“Because I lent it to you when we were flying back from the Proxima Quadrant and you never gave it back?” Lance’s raised his eyebrow suspiciously. “I didn’t really ask about it before because of everything else going on with you, but uh… it’s like my favourite jacket. Also my only jacket.”

“But I gave you mine, remember?” Keith retorted, trying to redirect the conversation. His eyes wandered conspicuously over to Lance’s dresser, where he had last left the garment in question back in his own room.

It had been balled up discreetly inside one of his drawers a few weeks ago now, to hide the fact that Keith had snuggled up to it so tightly he’d shredded a hole in the sleeve. In his defense, he was writhing in pain at the time. And, to be honest, he’d kinda completely forgotten all about it.

“I mean, yeah, and I appreciate that, but I got that jacket from my brother for my birthday last year. And Luis isn’t really a big gift-giver!”

“…Oh, really? I didn’t realize it was…so important to you." A nervous sweat rolled down the half-Galra’s neck.

“…Keith, what did you do to my jacket?”

“N–nothing!” The other boy stammered, raising his hands innocently. “Or, well…I may have ripped one of the sleeves. J–just a tiny bit.”

Lance narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Show me.”

“It’s in my bedroom, do you…want me to go ge–”

“I’ll come with,” The brunette interrupted, ominously rising to his feet to follow the Blade to his quarters.

“O–okay,” Keith mumbled back, hesitantly leading the way out of Lance’s room and just a few doors down the hallway. He typed in his PIN code slowly, trying his best to stall the inevitable, before stepping into his room and shuffling reluctantly towards his dresser.

The half-Galra looked back towards Lance, as if hoping he’d somehow let him off the hook. Instead, his boyfriend stood impatiently with his arms crossed tight, his foot tapping expectantly as he waited for Keith to reveal the jacket’s hiding spot.

Guess we’re doing this, he gulped, sliding the second drawer open and digging around past the Altean bed robes he’d never actually worn. He finally caught sight of the pale grey hood, tugging it gently out from beneath the mess of clothes.

Holding the crumpled garment in his hands, he gingerly turned to face the Red Paladin again. “So um…don’t be mad.”

Before Lance could interject, Keith unfolded the jacket, using it to shield his face – considering he could see his boyfriend through the gaping tear, it wasn’t particularly effective.

“Keeeiiiithhhh,” Lance whined, moving closer to snatch the item of clothing from his hands. “What did you do?”

“It was an accident! I was…uh, cold – and my fingernail got snagged on one of the sleeves!” The Blade half-lied; Lance didn’t really need to know why it got ripped. “I’m really sorry, okay? I didn’t tell you because I was planning on fixing it somehow, but I don’t actually know how to sew, so…”

The brunette let out a long sigh, his shoulders drooping as he wordlessly folded the jacket up again. His fingers fidgeted with the frayed edges of the tear. “It’s alright…I know you wouldn’t do something like this on purpose.”

Watching the gloom wash over Lance’s features, Keith scrunched up his face bitterly. He felt like absolute shit; even if Lance was putting on a brave face, he could tell he was pretty upset right now. 

Walking over to the other boy, Keith placed an apologetic hand on his shoulder. “Let me make this right.” He stared straight into Lance’s deep blue eyes, showing that he meant it. “When we’re in Kalkara, we’ll find a tailor that can patch it up for you, good as new. And whatever it costs, it’s on me. I’ll…I’ll even let you drag me around a few clothing stores in the meantime.”

“…Is that a promise?” The Red Paladin glared back, searching Keith’s face for any sign of hesitance.

“Yes,” the Blade stated emphatically, “I promise. Alright?”

“Well, okay,” Lance nodded slowly. “But I’m definitely gonna hold you to that, I hope you realise.”

“Trust me, I do.” He gave a gentle smile, relieved that he’d manage to satisfy Lance for the time being. “Anyway, should we maybe go meet everyone on the bridge now?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lance replied, thrusting the folded-up jacket back into Keith’s hands. “Here; wouldn’t want you leaving it on the ship.”

The half-Galra rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.” He took hold of the sleeves, looping them together around his waist for convenience, before making his way out of the bedroom.

He and Lance walked side-by-side down the hall again, eventually arriving in the bridge. Hunk and Pidge were already there waiting for them, with Coran stationed at the Castleship’s controls.

“Loving the new fashion statement, Keith.” Pidge jeered, adjusting her glasses slightly.

“Shut up,” The Blade groaned, turning to face the Altean instead. “Coran, how far out are we from Kalkara?”

“Well, your timing’s quite perfect, actually,” he answered, entering a string of commands into the console and placing his palm flat on the center panel. “We’re just initializing our landing sequence now!”

The entire bridge trembled softly beneath Keith’s feet, and he heard the muffled roar of thrusters fade as the Castle touched down on the planet’s surface. His tail flicked behind him anxiously, and he turned to Coran in anticipation of their next instruction.

“Righty-o, everyone! Time to go through a quick rundown of the plan for today!” The stand-in leader clapped his hands together, focusing the team’s attention. “Now, we’ll be met in the Capital by a woman named Deltria – she’s Head of the Medical Branch for the Kalkaran Department of Quintessence Research.”

“Whoa, wait, that sounds really official. Should we be wearing our paladin gear for this?” Hunk said worriedly.

“That’s quite alright. It won’t be a formal affair, so what everyone’s wearing will be just fine,” Coran replied reassuringly. “She’ll be escorting us to their Research Headquarters, where the scientists will be able to collect a few supplementary samples from Keith and conduct a comprehensive analysis of the data. As this process may take a little while, we’ll also be free to explore the Capital in the meantime. I’m told that Kalkara is famous for its modern infrastructure, as well as one of the most efficient transportation networks in the galaxy!”

“What about shops? Do they have a lot of places to go shopping?” Lance asked, eyeing Keith implicatively as he said it. 

“Oh yes, absolutely! The Kalkaran Capital is a hot-spot for anything and everything you’d ever need!” Coran exclaimed.

Lance responded with a satisfied hum.

“Okay, any other questions before we depart?” The Altean looked from face to face expectantly.

In response, the group all shook their heads.

“Excellent, then off we go!” Coran led the path to the gangway, with the other four remaining members of Team Voltron following close behind.

Reaching the Castleship’s disembarkation bay, he opened the door with a loud hiss. Warm sunlight streamed through the exit, and the Altean ushered everyone out of the ship. Keith trailed slightly behind the rest of the team, soaking in their new surroundings.

Kalkara was much more futuristic than he was expecting, with brightly-lit skyscrapers stretching over the city skyline as far as he could see. The buildings were sleek, black structures lit up by luminous yellow strips running down their vertices. Considering the planet’s reputation, Keith had a strong feeling they were powered by quintessence. 

“Like what you see?” A rough, feminine voice broke his train of thought.

Turning to face its source, Keith saw a grey, reptilian-looking woman standing before them. Her sharp face was edged with thick red scales, and a dark braid extended half-way down her back. Looking at the deep creases around her features, the half-Galra wondered what sort of lifespan the Kalkarans had in comparison to his own. 

“You must be Deltria; it’s an honour to be here,” Coran remarked, dialing up his formality. “Voltron is indebted to your hospitality,”

And he said this wasn’t supposed to be a formal affair, Keith thought to himself.

“Now, I’ll have none of that,” Deltria said dismissively. “As members of the coalition, Kalkara owes a great deal to Voltron for liberating so many of our sister planets. Something like this is the least we can do. And besides, as leaders in quintessence research, we have plenty of personal interest in your situation as well – Princess Allura didn’t fill me in on all the details, but I understand you have some interesting samples for us to analyse, yes?”

“Ah, indeed! Or well, something along those lines…” Coran stepped aside to gesture to Keith, who jumped at the sudden attention drawn to him. “This is Keith; he’s the former pilot of the Black Lion and a valued member of the Alliance.”

At the introduction, Deltria narrowed her eyes, closely examining his appearance. Keith swore he heard her click her tongue as she inspected him, making him even more uncomfortable.

“Keith’s current, er…appearance, isn’t what it normally is. From the genetic samples we’ve already examined ourselves, we haven’t been able to deduce the cause.” Coran continued. “However, we were able to extract a very interesting quintessence strain that we believe may be related to the issue. We naturally thought there to be no one better suited to assist with our deductions than Kalkara.”

“Well, you’d certainly be right there,” Deltria smirked at the compliment. “Kalkara is not only at the forefront of quintessence research, but also development and innovation. For example, thanks to countless decaphoebs of study and experimentation, we’ve been able to successfully engineer an artificial quintessence – it’s still in the prototype phase, but you can already see it in action.” The alien scientist gestured towards the expanse of buildings behind her. “All of the infrastructure in our Capital is powered by this synthetic substance. It’s our greatest pride as representatives of the coalition, and something we hope will soon reach a stage that it can be safely transported and exchanged with other rebel colonies.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! Does that mean this whole city is powered by artificial quintessence?” Pidge gawked.

“Not quite, but we’ve been increasing use steadily as it becomes more easily manufactured. At present, it would be approximately two-thirds of the Capital’s energy supply, with markedly lower percentages outside the city center.”

“Remarkable…truly remarkable.” Coran muttered to himself.

“Um, not to interrupt…” Keith awkwardly interjected. “But are we supposed to be going to go to a lab or something, so that you guys can examine me?”

“Ah, of course.” Deltria replied bluntly. “Your escort is over here; it will take you over to our medical research HQ, where we can continue our discussion.”

The Kalkaran pointed to the sidewalk a few feet away, where a small hover-vehicle was parked. It was glossy and black, just like the buildings, stretching out backwards like some sort of limousine. At the cue, a driver stepped out of the vehicle and opened the passenger door, holding it to invite the team inside.

“Thank you, I guess we’ll see you there shortly then!” the Altean nodded, motioning everyone into the hovercraft.

Lance, Pidge, Hunk and Keith all climbed through the open door, with the driver slamming it behind Coran as soon as he’d boarded. The seats were plush and cushiony, making it easier for Keith to sink into them as the vehicle pulled away from the curb and began moving.

A feeling of excitement bubbled around inside the hovercraft, with the other team members gawking at the towering buildings and high-tech structures outside their windows. Keith, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one with a bad taste in their mouth about the planet.

“Whoa, check out all those turrets...looks like the Kalkarans are pretty prepared for a Galra attack,” Hunk gaped, pointing at the large mechanized weapons in the distance. 

“Guess you’d want to be, when you’re renowned for being the rebellion’s leading source of quintessence,” Pidge concluded.

“You’re not wrong,” Coran chimed in. “The Kalkarans are a major target for the Empire, since they not only hold one of the largest supplies of quintessence in the galaxy not already controlled by the Galra, but also because they openly trade it with other coalition members.” 

“That probably also explains why they wouldn’t want everyone to know just yet about their artificial quintessence,” Hunk deduced. 

Keith avoided participating in the conversation, rolling his head to one side on the seat cushion. It seemed like everyone was so caught up in the sheer opulence of Kalkara, that they hadn’t noticed the way Deltria had been staring at him throughout their entire conversation. He’d seen the look before – it was the one Allura had given him when she’d first learned he was part-Galra. 

“Hey, you’re pretty quiet,” Lance whispered, nudging the other boy’s shoulder gently. “Is everything okay?”

Keith’s gaze flicked over to the brunette, trying not to draw everyone else’s attention. “Did you really not notice how that Deltria lady was glaring at me?”

“Um, not really?” Lance knitted his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Seriously? She looked like…like she was disgusted by me,” the half-Galra muttered bitterly under his breath.

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but was abruptly cut off by Coran instead. “Alright everyone, looks like we’re just about there!”

Glancing a window, Keith could see an enormous archway stretching into view. Below it was a number of angular buildings, which were all surrounded by a thick force field. Stationed outside were numerous guards, all dressed in black full-body armor and holding laser rifles.

“Geez, looks like the security’s even more ramped up around their main research facility,” Hunk exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowed with apprehension.

As the hovercraft pulled up just outside the front gates, a guard came up to the driver’s window, exchanging a few words before standing aside and lowering the barrier. The vehicle began rolling forward again, entering the facility and gliding into a reserved parking bay by the main building’s entrance.

Once again, the driver stepped out of the hovercraft and opened the door for the paladins. He tipped his head forward politely, motioning the group outside. Keith couldn’t help but notice the way he avoided making eye contact.

“Excellent, you’re finally here,” Deltria announced, rubbing her hands together as she approached the group from the research facility entrance. Her crisp white robes practically glowed under the sunlight, and Keith found himself forced to squint at her. “Come, I’ll show you around. It’s a bit of a walk to the medical branch, but everything’s already been prepped for your arrival.” Her eyes locked onto the half-Galra as she spoke, making him squirm yet again under the attention.

The group was led through the main entrance to the research headquarters, their gasps audible as they stepped inside. Hundreds of scientists populated the endlessly stretching benches, which were lined with countless high-tech contraptions that Keith couldn’t even begin to imagine all of the uses for. He saw quintessence being tested under flames, under intense cold, and combined with other substances. He saw the way it affected plants in tubes, and dead alien creatures. His eyes scanned the ceilings, and he watched the quintessence that ran through cables overhead flow in torrents, powering the entire laboratory. 

He could certainly understand why Kalkara was known as the quintessence research capital; Keith couldn’t even fathom something that they hadn’t probably already tried to do with the stuff at this point.

Deltria guided them through the endless sequence of halls and rooms, providing commentary that Keith was less than interested in. The rest of his team, on the other hand, seemed utterly enthralled by the information.

“This place is beyond words…” Pidge mumbled to herself, awestruck by the sheer magnitude of the place.

“See, Keith? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Hunk said, giving the Blade a gentle slap on the back. “If anyone can figure out what’s going on with you, it’s gotta be these guys.”

Keith hummed in response, hoping that he at least sounded like he half-believed that. 

“Hey, do you think they’ll let me borrow some of their robes?” Lance interjected, sandwiching himself between the two boys. “They’re so sci-fi! And white’s totally my colour.”

“You think everything’s your colour,” Hunk groaned.

“That’s not true, red definitely doesn’t suit him,” Keith deadpanned teasingly.

“Is that a jab about me being the Red Paladin? Or is it a jab about that time I borrowed your jacket?” Lance scowled. “Because either way, I’m highly offended!”

“Does it really matter?” The half-Galra retorted, the corner of his mouth curving wickedly.

Lance gave a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over his chest. In the back of his mind, however, he was glad that he and Hunk were at least able to distract Keith from the funk he was so obviously falling into. The brunette was more than happy to be the butt of everyone’s jokes, so long as it put a smile back on the half-Galra’s face again.

And in the same moment, Keith thought to himself how relieved he was to have Lance there with him right now.

“–And that finally brings us to the medical research wing. Now, please be aware that there are a number of dangerous contaminants within this department, so I strongly advise you to refrain from touching anything without permission.” 

Deltria led the group through a large set of glass doors, where there were a group of scientists waiting expectantly. Unlike the other departments they’d seen, they appeared to have halted their experiments in anticipation of their guests today. Keith’s suspicions were reinforced as they moved further into the circular room, where he saw a large table area cleared away in preparation for something.

He was sure that he was that something.

 “Alright…Keith, wasn’t it?” Deltria spoke to him directly. “We’ll need you to remove your shirt so that we can conduct a few scans. Just brain activity, electrochemical signaling, that sort of thing.”

“Uh…o–okay.” The Blade stammered, walking towards the examination table in the center of the room. Feeling ill from the number of eyes locked squarely onto him, he nervously peeled his black t-shirt over his head. He slipped off his fingerless gloves as well, but chose to leave the jacket around his waist untouched. He hoisted himself up onto the table, crossing his arms instinctively to conceal his exposed skin. The laboratory air had a strong chill to it, and Keith felt the prickle of goose bumps trailing down his shoulders. “Um, now what?”

Without an actual answer to his question, two of the scientists – or perhaps doctors, considering where they were – huddled towards Keith, hooking him up to the machine at the end of the table. They stuck several electrode pads to his temples, cheeks, chest, back, shoulders and abdominal muscles, and the half-Galra grit his teeth to hold back the strong urge to rip them all off and get the hell out of there immediately. Once the aliens seemed content enough with the pad placement, they both moved aside and stood in front of the console Keith had been connected to.

“Now, am I correct in saying that you’ve already taken adequate DNA samples?” Deltria asked, turning towards Coran.

“Ah, yes! Got the sample right here, as requested!” The Altean reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. It appeared to be a sample of Keith’s blood, and probably also contained traces of the mutated quintessence they were here to have analysed.

“Thank you; we’ll look at it immediately,” one of the doctors said, taking the small bottle from Coran’s hands and carrying it off to one of the other machines within the laboratory.

“Does that mean…you won’t have to use any needles?” Keith asked anxiously.

“Not today,” Deltria answered. “We should already have what we need in the material you’ve provided.”

The half-Galra breathed a sigh of relief – at least the worst type of procedure was off the table. Then again, he wasn’t feeling particularly enthused about being covered in electrodes, either.

Coran and Deltria spent a few minutes discussing their findings so far, leaving Keith sitting there covered in wires like some sort of alien test subject. The sticky pads hadn’t been activated just yet, and they were really starting to irritate his skin. Moreover, he’d been reassured that they were only here to look at the samples Keith had already given – he wasn’t told there’d be any weird experiments he’d be forced to take part in.

Sensing his uneasiness, Lance huddled a little closer to Keith, reaching down and grasping his tensed hands. He rubbed over the Blade’s knuckles with his thumb, gently squeezing to reassure him.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” He whispered supportively.

“Tch, easy for you to say,” Keith murmured, “you’re not the one hooked up to a machine by a bunch of wires right now.”

“Look, I know you don’t like it. But you’ve got to remember why you’re doing this. We came to Kalkara so that we could figure out why you’re turning into a Galra, remember? If this is how we find that out, don’t you want to at least give it a go?”

Keith scoffed under his breath. “Of course I do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t complain about feeling like a fucking lab rat.”

“Well, the tail isn’t exactly helping your image.” Lance teased, earning a too-tight squeeze of his hand in response. “Ow! Uncalled for!”

“Your comment was uncalled for first!” The half-Galra laughed, before trailing off into a deep sigh. “You know, I’m really glad you’re here. You always…make me feel a little less shit about things.”

“That’s just what good boyfriends do,” Lance smiled softly, lacing their fingers together.

Keith basked in the warmth of Lance’s gentle hands, feeling the heat flow like honey between them. He relished the contact of his smooth skin, edged by the thick callouses around his fingertips. His eyes trailed over sun-kissed arms, seeking out the shape of his jawline, the peppering of freckles, the pink dust of blush blooming over his chee– 

“OW!” Keith hissed, his whole body tensing violently.

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps I should have warned you that we were starting up the electromyograph,” Deltria said, not sounding particularly apologetic about it. 

“Electro–what–ograph?” Keith cautiously relaxed his muscles, hearing the faint buzzing of the electrodes rattle through his head. It was as though something had just zapped him. 

Disregarding the Blade’s question entirely, the Kalkaran turned to face the rest of the team. “Perhaps it would be best to have some privacy while we conduct these tests – I’ll have Breylin here escort you back to the Capital if you’d like, so you can kill a bit of time while I work with your friend here. I shouldn’t have him for too long.”

Deltria’s statement sounded like less of an invitation and more of an instruction, and soon a shorter, stockier alien was ushering the other paladins out of the medical wing. Lance gave Keith’s hand one more light squeeze, before he was soon politely removed from the laboratory. The half-Galra felt a nervous lump lodge itself firmly in his throat. 

He didn’t want to be alone – not with her.

“Sorry about that, Keith. It can be a little difficult to conduct tests with other people in the room. Now, I’m going to send a few more gentle shocks through those electrodes – I want you to tell me which of these you feel, and which you don’t. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure,” he said between clenched teeth.

The Blade sat impatiently for a few more seconds, before a sudden jolt rippled through his left temple. The loud buzz of electricity pounded through his eardrums.

“Felt it.” Keith hissed.

“As expected. Okay, we’ll be sending a few at once now, tell me how you go with those.”

Each spark stung like vinegar in a fresh wound, and Keith’s muscles screamed with each involuntary convulsion. “There were six. Two in the left shoulder, one in the right. One in each cheek, and one in the left pectoral.”

“Hmm, perhaps the power’s a little too high. Let’s just dial it down a notch and see how you respond to that.” Deltria reached across the alien controlling the electromyograph, adjusting one of the knobs slightly.

After that, Keith did at least notice a reduction in the intensity of the shocks, but he still didn’t particularly enjoy it. Even worse were the loud vibrations that rippled through his head every time the energy surged through him. It felt like an eternity before Deltria finally decided she had enough data.

“I’m sorry,” she began, without looking up from the tablet in her hands. “I understand this test can be quite unpleasant, but it’s the only way we’re able to gather accurate readings of your body’s electrical activity in response to direct stimulation.” 

Could’ve sworn you were enjoying it, Keith thought to himself bitterly.

“You seem…perturbed,” Deltria stated slowly. “Is it the experiment? Or rather, is it my presence that upsets you?”

“Your presence?” Keith narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that since I’ve got here, you’re the one who’s been staring at me like I’m some kind of eyesore.” Realising what he’d just said, he quickly bit his tongue. Rude or not, he definitely shouldn’t be picking a fight with one of the strongest allies of the coalition.

“…Give us a moment, please.” Deltria raised her hand, shooing the other scientists out of the room. She reached over to the side of the lab, pulling up a stool so that she was sitting directly opposite Keith. She stared at him again with her black, soulless eyes, and he felt himself writhe under her unyielding focus.

“Um…If I was out of line just now…I didn’t mean to–”

“No, it’s quite alright.” The Kalkaran interrupted. “I’ll admit; I haven’t been treating you in the best light.” She threaded her spindly fingers together, resting them beneath her chin. “You must understand – Kalkara has stood at the forefront of the resistance for countless centaphoebs. We’ve fought off Zarkon’s advances many times, and the sacrifices have always been great. Every day, we use our knowledge of quintessence to build bigger walls, and stronger weapons, all in fear of the Galra ever attacking us again.”

“But there are many Galra who fight against the Empire! The Blade of Marmora have worked tirelessly to stop Zarkon’s army fro–”

“I know this. And so do many Kalkarans. But it does little to change the stigma of their species. Of your species.”

“I’m not a Galra!” Keith objected. “At least…not entirely.”

“Keith, please understand. I’ve spent today not with hate for you, but with concern. As Head of this research facility, I want more than anything to be of assistance to the Voltron Alliance. But now that I know the scope of the situation…I worry that there will be unrest.”

“Well maybe if you can make me look human again, we won’t have to worry about that.”

“It would…certainly be the best outcome. For all of us.” Deltria glanced away, her eyes drifting over instead to the electromyograph. “In any case, we should have all the necessary data. Allow me to remove these for you.”

The Kalkaran gently detached the electrodes from Keith’s skin one by one, the boy feeling a slight pinch as each pad was pulled off. As Deltria wound up the tangle of wires to pack them away, Keith reached towards the end of the examination table, tugging his t-shirt and gloves back on again. 

“It shouldn’t take more than a few hours for us to go over the results. In the meantime, I do hope your stay in Kalkara is a pleasant one. Although…I should mention; while we do only have the preliminary results at this stage, what we are able to determine at this point is that your transformation is accelerated by stress. I would strongly advise maintaining a low profile today, as to not agitate it further.” Deltria’s brow creased with a look of uncertainty, before she continued to gather up the remaining equipment. “Would you…like someone to escort you back to the entrance?”

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” Keith replied, with little sincerity. He slid off the table, making to walk back out of the medical wing and through the rest of the complex. 

Balling up his fists, Keith ignored the other scientists gawking as he passed them. He ignored the sickening feeling in his stomach, of already knowing he wasn’t wanted here. And he ignored the faint buzzing in his ears, still ringing long after the electrodes had been removed.

The only thing he wanted to think about right now was how much better he’d feel with Lance’s arms wrapped around him – and his voice, reminding Keith that he was still himself.

Chapter Text

Don’t be stressed, Keith thought to himself. He was sure that sounded simple enough from an outside perspective. But he was the one who’d spent the last few months feeling like a spring coiled far too tight; like the cork of an unopened bottle of champagne. The pressure inside of his chest was constantly building, boiling, reaching a tipping point he wasn’t sure he remembered how to get back from.

When he’d been hiding out at the Marmoran base, the purple mark on his chest had bloomed slowly; inconspicuously enough. But as soon as Lance and the rest of Team Voltron managed to wedge their way back into his life, his skin erupted with colour. His bones were stretched, his teeth were shed, his spine shredded through his own flesh like paper.

It made sense that the current state of his body was molded by stress – the stress of his teammates discovering the changes, the stress of being kicked out of the Blades…and the stress of not knowing why his stomach fluttered every time he was around a certain brunette.

Keith scoffed under his breath, attracting the attention of a few lab technicians standing in the lobby of the Kalkaran research facility. Their uncomfortable scowls only served to reinforce his perceptions – avoiding all sources of stress today wasn’t really an option. Not when the entire population saw his very purple, very Galran features, and didn’t even attempt to mask their repulsion.

…Then again, maybe there was one thing that might help soothe him a little.

“Oh! Keith!” Lance turned at the whoosh of the automatic doors in the lab entryway, and the gentle o-shape of his lips melted into a tender smile at the sight of his boyfriend finally emerging from the building.

“Hey…didn’t expect you to still be waiting here.” Keith hummed, feeling his own mouth curl upwards as he stepped closer to the brunette – close enough to scoop up both of Lance’s hands and stroke them gently with the pads of his thumbs.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t from a lack of trying, thanks to the receptionist!” the Red Paladin balked, shooting a scowl somewhere over Keith’s shoulder. “Anyway, um…how’d everything go?” He eyed the other boy nervously, not quite sure what sort of weight the question would carry in the present moment.

“Ehh,” Keith shrugged. “Fine I guess. They just ran a few currents through those electrode pads for a bit, which sucked – my ears are still ringing from it. And then they asked me a few science-y questions about my body, my genetic background, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, fun,” Lance poked his tongue out in displeasure. “Did they manage to figure anything out yet? Or are you going to have to wait for the test results?”

“Well…apparently the transformation gets worse whenever my body experiences stress, so that’s why it started happening so much faster after the Proxima mission.”

“You? Stressed?” The brunette mock-gasped. “I can’t even imagine it.”

“Shut up,” Keith chuckled, lacing their fingers together. “Anyway, I won’t find out much more than that until they’re done analyzing…stuff. Being alone with Deltria was okay at least, in the end. Still would’ve been better if you were there, though.”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Lance lilted, playfully swinging their arms side to side. “We’ve got the whole day to spend together, and I’m pretty sure a certain someone already made me a promise about what we’re gonna do today.”

“Hmm…don’t recall,” the half-Galra teased. Lance wriggled one of his hands free to flick Keith in the forehead.

“Nice try, mullet.” He turned to the side, pointing to what looked like an underground walkway off in the distance – it was hard to tell for sure. Keith didn’t want to admit that his vision had somewhat worsened in the daylight recently. “According to Breylin, the LRT’s the fastest way to get to the shopping district. Come on!”

“…Who’s Breylin?” Keith quirked an eyebrow, allowing himself to be led forward by his one still-held hand. “And what the hell is an ‘LRT’?”

“He was that scientist guy that Deltria had shoo us out of the lab. Pretty alright dude though, once he got talking – though he didn’t actually mention what LRT stood for. It kinda sounded like a city rail, maybe?

“Uh-huh.” The Blade hummed skeptically, following Lance to the brightly-lit stairwell. He clicked his tongue at the pulsing sea of people blocking their path, squeezing Lance’s palm tighter as he tried desperately not to get separated.

The rumbling clatter of footsteps on concrete only served to aggravate the buzzing headache that pinched at Keith’s temples, and he was sure that irritation seeped into every ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ that tumbled past his lips as he continued to worm his way through the crowd.

The feeling was worsened by the prickle of stares locked onto him from all directions, like tiny daggers twisting over his skin – they were dipped in the poisonous prejudice that Deltria had warned him about. As they finally neared the expanse of the station platform, which was at least slightly less cramped the the narrow walkway, Keith pressed his body closer to the brunette’s back, as if the smaller boy would somehow shield him from the relentless attention. 

Lance seemed to misinterpret the clinginess as a sign of affection and glanced up at the half-Galra with a gentle smile. Keith bared his teeth, trying to force himself to reciprocate it.

After all, if Lance really hadn’t noticed anything, it was better for him to pretend things were fine. Maybe that way, he’d feel like things were fine, too.

Eerily silent, Keith distantly saw the reflective black gloss of the approaching vehicle. He looked downwards briefly and noticed the complete absence of any sort of track, before a sudden wall of wind ripped his attention away. A high-pitched squeal made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, although the unresponsive Kalkarans seemed fairly used to it. That, or their hearing just wasn’t as sensitive.

Examining the station tunnel more thoroughly, Keith noticed the string of golden archways lining the ceiling. The train carriage bobbed minutely, as if some sort of force was pulling it a precise distance from the strips of light – almost like a magnet. 

A melodic chime dinged twice, and that was the Blade’s only warning before the train doors slid open, barely quick enough for the surge of people that burst out from inside. He felt nimble fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him out of the way just in time to avoid the approaching stampede.

“Hey, you’re gonna get cleaned up standing in the middle like that, you know!” Lance half-shouted over the murmurs of the crowd. “That’s why they have these lines on the ground – you’re supposed to stand behind them!” 

“How am I supposed to know that?” Keith yelled back, acutely aware of a few sharp looks cast towards him. “It’s not like we had any public transport out in the desert!”

Lance rolled his eyes teasingly, before gesturing towards the carriage door. The swell of people immediately began to shunt up against Keith, and he took that as strong indication that it was their turn to get on now.

A chaotic maze of limbs churned around the half-Galra in every direction, and he began to turn from side to side a little more frantically as he realized he’d lost sight of the Red Paladin.

“Uh, Lance? …Lance?!” His voice began to rise as uneasiness set in, but it was soon replaced by relief at the sight of a familiar tanned hand waving wildly in the air above the masses. Keith scuffled towards it, pretending not to notice the occasional scoff or mutter from the Kalkarans as he excused himself.

“Geez, the crowds here are something else,” the brunette chuckled, gripping onto Keith’s shirt tightly. “Don’t worry though, we’re only going a few stops.”

“Great…” The Blade huffed, letting his arm drape over Lance’s shoulder possessively. Trapped in the confines of the cramped train carriage, he was even more intensely aware of the dozens of eyes drilling into him. Keith locked gazes with a few of the Kalkarans, but it seemed like they were completely unperturbed in their open displays of disgust.

Lance hummed to himself obliviously, occasionally nudging the other boy to point at something interesting out the window. His head bobbed up and down in a mixture of curiosity and excitement, and it was starting to irk Keith a little. The Red Paladin was having the time of his life right now, marveling at the bright city lights and towering skyscrapers – on the other hand, the half-Galra didn’t have the luxury of suspending his awareness of the people around him.

It wasn’t fair.

After a good fifteen minutes, the train shuddered to a gentle stop again, and Lance tapped his index finger against Keith’s shoulder.

“This is our stop, come on!”

The Blade nodded, eager to get out of the busy carriage as soon as possible. He clutched onto the hem of Lance’s shirt this time, ensuring he wouldn’t lose the other boy again in the bustling crowd. Keith staggered along behind the brunette, being led onto the platform, and then swept along with the foot traffic through the station passageways. He squeezed the fabric between his fingers tighter, continuing their brisk shuffle all the way to the underground exit.

The half-Garla squinted as they reached the top of the stairs, his eyes readjusting to the harsh daylight. As his pupils eventually came back into focus, he saw the brunette standing in front of him, hands positioned confidently on his hips.

“Aaaand this is it!” Lance announced, beaming excitedly. “It’s like the space mall times a gazillion. They’ve got clothing stores, hobby shops, weapons dealers, restaurants – you name it!” He moved closer to Keith’s face, capturing his attention. “So, where do you wanna go first?”

“Don’t really care.” Keith shrugged. “I mean, I’m mostly here against my will.”

“Ugh, you’re so dramatic!” Lance moaned. “You know, you being here won’t really feel like much of an apology if all you do is bitch about it.”

“Hey, I still kept my promise, didn’t I? Let me bitch.”

“Not just yet, you haven’t.” Lance gestured towards the still-torn jacket tied loosely around the half-Galra’s waist. “Besides, you can at least try to enjoy yourself. I mean…this is kinda like our first real date, isn’t it?”

Keith blanched at the proposal. He supposed it was just the two of them…with nobody there to interrupt…

“…Y–you’re right.” Keith stammered, stopping his thoughts dead in their tracks before he got too carried away. “Should we find somewhere to fix your jacket first then?”

“Oho, you totally thought about something dirty just now, didn’t you?” Lance smirked.

“I d–did not!” Keith hissed between gritted teeth, his face reddening further.

The brunette snorted, shaking his head at the other boy.

“I’m serious!”

“Okay, I believe you!” Lance replied unconvincingly, a playful smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, we’ve only got a few hours, right? Let’s get my jacket mended, and then find you those new clothes you so desperately need.” Lance reached over to Keith’s bicep, pinching the taut fabric of his sleeve to demonstrate the point. He then slowly slid his hand down the other boy’s arm, tracing the thicker muscles that hadn’t been there before he’d joined the Blade of Marmora. Reaching Keith’s palm, he laced their fingers loosely together, wiggling his digits playfully against the half-Galra’s leathery gloves as he turned to walk towards the shopping district.

Keith hadn’t grown up in a big city, but as he and Lance strolled lazily down the stretching sidewalk, he thought it didn’t really seem all that different from the sprawling, glitzy shopping districts he’d seen in movies before. Bright neon billboards and enormous glass windows lined the streets, and the cacophonous chatter of the crowds around him swirled almost nauseatingly. He felt entranced and delirious, all at the same time.

“Hey, you okay? You look like you’re gonna throw up.” Lance snickered, gently shaking the half-Galra’s hand to catch his attention.

“I’m good. Everything’s just a bit…overwhelming.” Keith’s heightened senses were pulled in every direction by the stimulating sights and sounds, and he realized how light-headed it was making him feel.

Lance gave him a worried pout, leading him over to stand outside of the nearest storefront. A brief glance led Keith to conclude it was some kind of women’s hair salon. “Okay, look; you wait over here and just take it easy for a minute. I think I saw an information desk back that way – I’m gonna go find out where the nearest tailor is, and then I’ll be right back. Sound good?”

“Uh, I guess so.” The Blade bit his lip but forced himself to smile reassuringly anyway.

Even if Lance hadn’t completely bought it, he seemed satisfied enough, giving Keith’s hand a comforting squeeze before sliding away from his grip. “I’ll be two ticks – promise!”

The half-Galra watched the brown-and-blue blur of Lance’s back gradually meld with the surrounding colours, until it was lost to the sea of figures before him. He let out a shuddering sigh, allowing his gaze to drift downwards and admire the scuffs along the pavement. Tapping his foot against it lightly, Keith observed it to be more of a marble-like surface, rather than the typical concrete back on Earth. Then again, it was a little hard to be certain through the thick rubber soles of Shiro’s boots, which his brother had been kind enough to lend him. It had been quite a while since he’d needed to go outside, so he’d been getting by pretty well without shoes until now – not exactly by choice, but it at least hadn’t been a necessity.

The dull throbbing in his temples still refused to go away, so Keith focused on zoning out the roaring noises surrounding him, instead fixating on the cold pane of glass pressed against his back. His tail curled to lay flush against it, and the feeling helped soothe the prickle of unpleasantness beneath his skin. 

Don’t stress, remember? You can’t afford to be stressed; not right now.

The very-public shopping district was the absolute last place Keith wanted to have a breakdown – physical or otherwise. He needed to be calm and composed, to avoid stirring up any unwanted reactions within his body. The half-Galra took in several deep, measured breaths, concentrating on the steady rise and fall of his own chest. Lance would be back soon. He was going to keep it together, no matter what.

“Mamaaaa!” The shrill voice of a child ripped Keith from his moment of peace. His eyes whipped open, and he suddenly found himself face-to-face with a small Kalkaran girl. “Why is that man purple?!” Her scaled cheeks were puffed out in confusion, and the stuffed animal she was holding was practically being crushed in her death-grip.

The Blade’s mouth flapped open uselessly, struggling to find any sort of response. He felt like a zoo animal, the way the girl continued to gawk at him relentlessly.

“Lenari, don’t be ru–” the voice of who Keith assumed to be the alien girl’s mother stopped dead in her tracks the moment she laid eyes on him. The woman scowled, scanning up and down the half-Galra’s body as she clearly connected the dots in her mind.

Guess it’s okay for your daughter to be rude when it’s a Galra, huh, Keith thought to himself bitterly. He wouldn’t dare actually say it out loud – not when he was outnumbered by everyone else in the shopping district.

The mother clicked her tongue, narrowing her eyes as they connected with Keith’s own. Her stance was protective, but threatening; just daring the half-Galra to make a move…as if he actually would.

“Let’s come back for your haircut later, Lenari,” the alien woman said tersely, pressing her hand to her daughter’s back.

“Why? Just because the ugly purple man is there?” the little girl sulked, shooting Keith a glare she’d no doubt inherited from her mother. 

The woman didn’t respond, simply pushing her daughter along and away from the salon. The girl turned her head back to poke out her candy-coloured tongue at Keith, before the two of them were lost to the crowd again.

Keith swallowed thickly, ignoring the taste of bile at the back of his throat. He’d decided that Kalkara definitely wasn’t living up to the hype that Matt and Coran had piled on so enthusiastically. In fact, the idea of spending any longer than necessary there made the half-Galra’s skin crawl – and it didn’t help that everyone else was acting like nothing was even wrong in the first place.

“Why hello there, handsome. You come here often?” A familiar voice lilted from beside him. Keith turned his head minutely to see that Lance was leaning his elbow against the glass, in a pose he assumed was meant to be seductive.

“Did you find out where to go?” Keith deadpanned, trying not to let the hostility seep into his voice.

“Uh, yeah. I did,” The brunette nodded. “…Is everything okay? You seem kinda tense.”

“Just…ready to get moving.” Keith flung his arms in the air, leaning off the glass wall of the salon.

“Oh, uh, okay! I’m sorry I took so long, I didn’t mean for you to get bored,” Lance replied, trying to make an assumption about the source of Keith’s moodiness.

The Blade did his best to tuck away the disappointment that the Red Paladin had missed the mark, shifting on his feet impatiently.

“Anyway, there’s apparently a tailor just down this way.” The Red Paladin gestured off in some vague direction in front of them, so Keith simply crammed his hands into his pockets and trailed behind as Lance led the way.

He knew he was sulking now – that he was completely ruining their date. Or more accurately, he wasn’t the one who’d ruined it, but it’s not like the Kalkaran citizens were about to apologise. He needed to calm down and focus on the only thing that mattered today, which was spending time with Lance.

Exhaling deeply, Keith quickened his pace a little to catch up to the other boy. He allowed one of his hands to flop from his pockets, brushing it gently against the brunette’s tanned knuckles.

Lance let out a quiet hum, before wordlessly linking their hands together again. Keith could practically sense the soft smile spreading across his boyfriend’s cheeks, without even looking. He felt better, if only by a tiny bit.

As they continued their walk through the shopping district, the Blade reached a conclusion – all he needed to do today was concentrate on Lance. If he ignored the Kalkarans around him, and instead just kept his attention on the other boy’s soft palms, and his quiet breaths, and the faint smell of his fruity shampoo, his stress would eventually melt away. If people were going to treat him like shit today, he’d pretend that he and Lance were the only people that existed.

Unfortunately, that plan reached a speed bump as they finally arrived at the tailor, and Keith realized they were obviously going to have to interact with the clerk inside. He chewed his lip anxiously, entering the store through the automatic doors with Lance’s hand still tightly clasped in his own.

The Blade’s heart jumped at the sharp ding of the sensor by the entrance, and a weedy-looking Kalkaran popped out from behind the counter.

“Oh. Yes. Hello. Can I help?” The man spoke in fragments, his eyes never fully making contact with either of the boys. One of his twitching hands tugged at his shirt collar, while the other tapped loudly against the black bench top.

“Hi. Yes,” Lance replied, unintentionally mimicking the alien’s strange speech pattern. Noticing, he shook his head a little as he continued. “We’re looking to have a jacket mended – do you do that here?”

Straightening up at the business enquiry, the man pointed to a chart at the front of the counter. “Yes. Prices are here. You have the jacket?”

Keith stood dumbly for a moment, before he realized that Lance was staring expectantly at him. “…Oh! Right!” He hurriedly untied the sleeves still draped around his waist, pulling the jacket off and placing it on the bench with the tear clearly on display.

The tailor leaned forward to examine the garment, his thin, needle-like fingers probing the frayed edges of the fabric curiously. “This material…quite weak. Not standard.” He pointed to one of the columns of the price list. “For you, this much.”

The half-Galra’s eyes scanned over the text, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Five thousand…something.” He glanced over to Lance. “Is this a currency symbol?”

The Red Paladin shrugged.

“Lance, I don’t know how much this is,” The Blade scowled back.

“S–sorry, do you accept GAC?” The brunette stammered, fumbling around in his pocket for his wallet.

The Kalkaran visibly glowered at the statement, fidgeting with his collar again. “…Fine. Sixty-two GAC. Pay now only.”

Trying to disregard the displeased tone in the alien’s voice, Keith held out his hand to stop Lance’s arm as it rifled through his wallet. “Wait – I’m paying, remember?” He reached into his own back pocket, pulling out a thin wad of cash. His sharp thumbnail easily hooked the corners of the bills, and he counted out the amount requested before placing it on the counter. 

The Kalkaran scrunched up his nose slightly as he picked up the payment, licking his thumb while he counted out the notes and placed them into the cash register.

“Two vargas. You come back.”

“Sure, no problem!” Lance smiled awkwardly, bumping his shoulder into Keith as he hurried out of the shop a little too quickly. The Blade shook his head, following closely behind him.

When he was finally out of the suffocating room, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Wow, that was really awkward,” Lance whined. “Ugh, I’m kinda dreading picking my jacket back up later.” 

“Just think about the positives – it’ll be all patched up again. No more gaping hole.”

“Says the one who put it there.” The brunette mocked. 

“Accidentally!” Keith’s hands shot up defensively. “Anyway, do you know where you wanna go next?”

“Well, before that…” Lance reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet again. “I’m thinking maybe we should find somewhere to change over some money. I know that guy accepted the GAC we gave him, but I don’t really think he wanted to.” 

Keith hummed in agreement. It would be nice if they didn’t have to have that conversation with a second shopkeeper. The two boys strolled forward, somewhat aimlessly, back towards the information desk area.

Lance strolled up to the small stand in the middle of the walkway, marked by a large holographic projection of the letter ‘I’. Unlike last time, however, the half-Galra stuck close to his boyfriend, folding his arms tightly as his tail brushed up against Lance’s leg. If he stuck with the Red Paladin, maybe he wouldn’t have any repeats of what happened when he was alone.

“Okay, great! Thank you so much!” Lance grinned, holding up a pamphlet as he took a few steps away from the stand.

“Did they give you a map or something?” Keith asked curiously. 

“Yeah! I told them we were looking for some men’s clothes, of the uh, humanoid variety, and they marked down a couple of stores to try.” Lance’s hand suddenly whipped forwards, flashing a stack of cash. “They also changed my mo–nay!” He fanned the bills at Keith’s face, his hair blowing back from the surprisingly forceful gust. 

“Very nice.” The half-Galra rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re planning to share that, considering you didn’t get any of my money changed.”

“It’s cool, consider anything we buy my treat! It’s payback for you paying my jacket repair fees.” 

“But I owed you that. If you buy me clothes, it won’t be a fair trade, dumbass.”

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. Just let me pimp you out, ‘kay?” Lance gave a cheeky wink. “Besides, if I’m the one buying your clothes, it’ll be harder for you to say no to me.” 

“You underestimate how little trouble I have saying no to you.”

“Oh that’s it, you’re getting the ugliest, sparkliest outfit we can find now,” Lance pouted. “A bedazzled shirt, light-up sneakers, the whole works.”

The Blade chuckled, lightly slapping the brunette in the arm as he yanked the map from his hands. The two continued their lighthearted bickering as they waltzed through the mall, heading for one of the shops marked on the paper leaflet.

They ducked into several random stores along the way, marveling at whatever weird alien paraphernalia caught their eye. As Keith was inspecting a particularly interesting telescope of some sort, he saw Lance head over to the counter out of the corner of his eye. Putting the object down, he casually strolled over as the Red Paladin thanked the cashier and took his shopping bag.

“What’d you buy?” The half-Galra enquired, leaning forward to peek inside.

“None of your business,” Lance teased. “Maybe I’ll show you later, if you’re good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith grimaced. 

“It means I know you’re trying to put off clothes shopping as long as possible by pointing out all these cool little knick-knack shops. But it’s not gonna work on me all day!” Lance prodded his finger into the small of Keith’s back, pushing him towards the exit. “Come on, no more distractions! The next store we hit, you’re trying something on!”

The Blade let out a defeated groan, allowing himself to be steered back outside and towards the nearest clothing outlet.

As they stepped through the sliding glass doors, Keith was immediately taken aback by the overwhelming rows of shirts, trousers, coats, robes, skirts, shoes and headwear lining the floor space. The interior was fairly crisp and simple, which at least reassured him that they might sell something he’d actually wear. A strange, pounding voice in a foreign language buzzed out of the overhead speakers, singing something he couldn’t quite assign an existing music genre to.

“Hello! Welcome to–to…” The chirpy sales assistant that had approached the two boys suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her entire demeanor shifting in alarm. “…Oh my god, you’re–”

Oh great, Keith winced internally, here it comes. He’d been having such a nice time with Lance that he’d managed to completely forget the way the Kalkarans had been looking at him. How they were sickened by him. And how they’d done their very best to make sure he knew he wasn’t welcome here.

“–You’re Lance! The Blue Paladin! Omigosh, I’m Team Voltron’s biggest fan, you have noidea!” The young woman gushed, her arms flapping about enthusiastically. “I’ve got all of your live show recordings, and I even went to the one on Theta Mizar in person! You guys are just, like, so amazing!”

…Whatever Keith had been expecting her to say, it definitely hadn’t been that.

“Well well, always a pleasure to meet a fan!” Lance lilted charmingly. It was like a switch had been flipped inside the brunette’s head, and flirty Lance had come out to play.

The shop assistant’s face was beaming, like she was about to pass out any second from the excitement. “Ahh, you’re literally my favourite paladin! I heard that you guys have swapped your Lions now though, is that true? Oh, and I really love when you do the, um…rope thingy! It’s…wow.”

Keith swore he could actually see Lance’s head get bigger with every compliment. Unexpectedly though, it was him that the Kalkaran spoke to next.

“Are you…part of Team Voltron, too? I don’t remember seeing you in any of the shows.”

“I–uh…” The Blade stuttered, caught off-guard by the question. 

“Actually, this is Keith!” Lance interrupted, slinging his arm over the other boy’s broad shoulders. “Team Voltron’s original Red Paladin!”

“Oh, it’s an…interesting casting choice for your performances!” The young assistant nodded thoughtfully. “Or was the decision based more on acting skills than physical resemblance?”

“S–Something like that.” Keith mumbled, not really wanting to get involved in the conversation. “Anyway, are there change rooms up the back?”

“Ah! No, sorry! They’re down towards the shoe section over there!” Snapping out of her starstruck daze, the attendant pointed towards the left-hand wall, where the half-Galra could see a few dozen rows of boots lined up together. Turning back to Lance again, she let out a huff. “Man, this is the worst. Leave it to me to forget my phone at home on the day that a Paladin of Voltron comes in!”

Keith ears prickled as she seemed to completely disregard the fact that he was a paladin too.

“Oh, you wanted a photo together?” Lance’s voice bubbled with elation. “Then do I have the best news ever for you!” He reached into his shopping bag from earlier, rummaging around a bit before he pulled out a boxy black device. Flipping a switch on the front of it, a few panels popped up from the sides of the object, and a round lens jutted outwards.

The Kalkaran practically squealed, hugging the brunette as he pointed the camera towards them both.

“Alright, now, what do Kalkarans usually say when they take photos?” Lance asked, already tilting his head back and forth to find his best angle.

“What do you mean? We don’t say anything in particular. Do your people have some kind of photo-word?”

Keith didn’t even need to look to know the boastful smirk that Lance would have responded with. In fact, he was feeling pretty over this entire exchange. Rolling his eyes, he headed for one of the clothing racks, ignoring the mechanical click of a lens shutter behind him. 

The half-Galra carded his fingers through the shirts on display, pulling each hangar a little too forcefully as he browsed through them. He chewed his lip crankily, not even really paying much attention to the clothes anymore. Lance was supposed to be helping him, dammit. He was supposed to be spending time with him – wasn’t this a date? Why was he taking photos with some shopkeeper? It wasn’t…

I’m not jealous,he reassured himself. Lance is just taking photos with a fan. He acts like this with everyone, it’s just what happens whenever he’s the centre of attention. I’m NOT jealous. Keith’s hands froze above the clothes rack.

…Maybe he was a little jealous.

Ruffling his own bangs in frustration, the half-Galra finally picked a shirt to try on, looping it over his arms as he went to move to another section of the store. As he turned however, he instead collided with the tanned figure standing a few inches beside him.

“Ow, hello to you too!” Lance chuckled, lightly rubbing his forehead.

“Well, that’s what happens when you sneak up on me!” Keith snipped, adjusting the hangar still attached to his wrist. “I thought we were picking things out together.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I was gone for so long. Check these out!” Lance held up three pairs of trousers, flipping the stack over to highlight the back. “Look, they have a proper hole for your tail – no more slouchy-butt pants for you! Man, alien planets are the best.” The brunette leaned forward, his breath tickling the other boy’s chin. “So, what did you find?”

“Um, just this so far.” Keith held up the shirt in his arms – it was all but identical to his own black t-shirt, albeit in a more appropriately sized for his body.

“Are you serious?” Lance snorted. “It’s the same as what you’re already wearing!”

“Yeah? Because I like what I’m wearing?”

“I–okay. Fine. Just come try these on then.” The brunette shook his head, ushering Keith towards the fitting rooms.

As they passed by the shoe section, Lance spotted a pair of calf-length black boots, picking them up and adding them to the bundle in his arms. “These too – they seem like your kinda style.” He thrust the mound of clothing into Keith’s arms, guiding him into one of the empty booths. “Okay, you put those on, and I’ll wait out here. Show me when you’re done, alright?”

Before the Blade could get another word in, Lance slid the door closed and left him alone in the tiny change room. He let out a flustered sigh, pausing for a moment before placing the clothing pile down on the small bench along the wall. 

Tugging off Shiro’s boots first, Keith flung them into the corner. He then peeled of his t-shirt, struggling a little to get it over his head. Finally, he squeezed his jeans down over his hips, hopping from foot to foot as he yanked the tight pant ankles over his heels. By the time he was down to his briefs, the half-Galra was feeling out of breath from the ordeal of undressing. 

“Christ…” He puffed exhaustedly, snapping the tight elastic on his waist. Even his underwear probably needed replacing at this point. Turning back to the bench, he dug through the stack of clothes to see what Lance had picked out. He wrinkled his nose at the top-most pair of trousers, which were a slightly gaudy shade of red and barely looked bigger than his current pants.

“Hey Lance, how did you even know what size to grab?” Keith called through the closed door.

“Oh, I just kinda eyeballed it. Why, are they too small still?”

“Uh, maybe? I haven’t looked at all of them yet, though.” He moved onto the next pair, which looked a bit more appropriately sized. Unfortunately, they also looked like they’d been made with the stiffest, most inflexible leathery fabric possible – Keith couldn’t imagine being able to fight or train in something like that.

Tossing those aside as well, he went to look at the last option, before a small plastic packet fell off the bench instead. Keith bent down to pick it up, inspecting the package closely. He couldn’t understand the alien text, but from the pictures he concluded that it contained several pairs of black briefs. They were low-rise, assumedly meaning his tail would be able to sit over them.

So embarrassing, he thought to himself. But he supposed while the idea of having his boyfriend pick out his underwear was pretty cringeworthy, it was at least sweet that he thought of it in the first place.

Moving onto the remaining pair of trousers, he held them up in front of himself. To his relief, they actually seemed to be the most normal of the bunch – a slightly looser fitting linen pant, in a nicely muted shade of taupe. Giving the pants an approving nod, he bent down and stepped through the leg holes, hoisting the waistband up over his thighs. The fabric was thin but felt sturdy, and was a world of difference from the constriction of his jeans.

Reaching behind himself, Keith undid the button at the back, tucking his tail through the hole and refastening around it. He then straightened the front, zipping up the fly and fastening the button there as well. Looking down over himself, he rotated his body to examine the garment.

“…Not bad.” The half-Galra hummed approvingly, brushing his flingers over the material. He then picked up the shirt he’d picked out, pulling it over his head with minimal effort. As expected, it was pretty similar to his own black shirt, but he was relieved to finally regain movement in his shoulders. The fabric was also slightly softer, and more breathable, which Keith thought was a nice bonus.

Lastly, he reached down for the sleek combat boots that Lance had grabbed for him, leaning against the bench as he pulled them on. The Blade tucked the cuffs of his pants inside the shoes, before zipping them up on each side. Rolling forwards on his feet, Keith noted that they had a comfortable bounce to them, and the soles had an adequate amount of grip.

“Hey, are you changed yet or what?” Lance whined through the wall, knocking against it lightly with his fist.

“I…I guess so?” Keith replied, hesitantly opening the fitting room door. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, waiting for the brunette to say something. 

“Oh. My. Goddddd!” He screeched, his jaw hanging open in shock. “You look…you look…holy shit!” Lance gripped Keith’s shoulders, his eyes scanning over the boy’s body as a dark blush crept down his neck. “Everything looks…amazing on you, like seriously.”

Keith blanched. “I–I mean, they’re just clothes…”

 “Not when they’re on you, they’re not!” The Red Paladin squawked. “Keith, you’re so hot, what the hell. I refuse to believe you can’t see how attractive you are; come here.”

Lance reached into his shopping bag again, pulling out the camera from earlier. Before Keith had time to react, a thin arm looped around his shoulders and the other boy chirped “Smile!”

A bright flash burned into the half-Galra’s vision, his eyelids fluttering furiously to readjust to the light. “What the fuck, Lance...” Keith muttered, his fingers rubbing at his sensitive eyes.

“I took a photo of you – now you can see how incredible you look!” The brunette smiled, holding up the printed image proudly.

Keith held up his hand defensively, covering the photograph. “I don’t want to see it.”

The Red Paladin pouted. “Why do you have to be like this? Look, I know you’re not a hundred percent comfortable with your appearance right now, but I’m telling you that you’re beautiful. The way you are, right now. Keith, you’re stunning.”

“Please, just stop talking,” The half-Galra hissed, attempting to squirm free from Lance’s grip.

“No, I’m not dropping this until you listen to me! Look!” The brunette thrust the photo in front of Keith’s face, leaving him unable to turn away in time.

His own purple skin smeared itself across his vision. White, jagged teeth stood out starkly against his matted black hair, thick like the fur of an animal as it sprouted from his neck in tufts.

It wasn’t him anymore. This wasn’t him. 

“You were beautiful before, and you’re beautiful now.”

The only face people saw now was that of a monster. But it wasn’t him. 

“You’re still you, Keith.”

“Just shut up, Lance!” The half-Galra yelled, snatching the photograph from the Red Paladin’s hand. “Stop telling me that you still think I’m pretty, and how you think I look the same! I don’t, okay? I fucking don’t! And just because you think I’m still the same person doesn’t just magically mean that everyone else does too!”

“You don’t know what other people think! Why do you have to assume that everyone just suddenly hates you? What, because you look like a Galra?”

Keith felt something snap inside him at that, his fists clenching dangerously. “Are you kidding me? This entire fucking day, the only thing anyone’s seen me as is a Galra! That’s all I am to them, and they hate me!” He jabbed his finger into Lance’s chest. “And you didn’t even notice! People have been glaring at me all day and you didn’t even notice! So stop telling me that how I look doesn’t matter, because it DOES! It does fucking matter!”

“Wh–Keith, I just–I mean…I didn’t know…” A guilty look spread across Lance’s face, his eyes becoming glassier as he spoke. As he went to continue however, the brunette let out a soft gasp instead. “Oh, y–your ear…”

 Still twisting his eyebrows together in anger, the Blade brought his finger up to his ear, feeling a strange wetness dripping from it. He brought it in front of his face, and was met with a bright red liquid. It was definitely blood. A sudden panic began to churn in Keith’s stomach, his chest heaving with each quickening breath. 

Not now, he pleaded, please not now. He pushed Lance backwards, clamping both hands over his ears as he turned to run away. A tense sweat beaded across his forehead, but Keith only managed to make it a few steps before a sharp POP ripped through his eardrums.

Bursts of hot pain jolted through his head, and suddenly a violent ringing sound overwhelmed his senses. The half-Galra staggered forward and plunged to the floor, the loud slap of his skin on the surface pounding through his skull.

An intense wave of vertigo roiled through him, and Keith fought back his nausea as the bright ceiling lights danced feverishly above him. Soon, he saw a brown blur come into half-focus, and Lance’s cool hand pressed against his face. He could see the boy’s lips moving, but was unable to hear anything except a harsh murmur of noise. 

The roar of delirium continued to punch at Keith's eardrums, which had seemingly burst from whatever the hell was happening to him. The shop assistant swirled into his eyesight at one stage, but he still continued to hear nothing but the muffled boom of voices around him. He felt hands on his cheeks, his arms, felt the passing presences around him as they ran about in panic.

Lance pulled Keith into his lap, trying to stabilize him, but the half-Galra rolled from side to side, his sense of balance completely impeded by his current condition. Realising that Keith couldn’t actually understand him right now, he stroked the other boy’s hair soothingly, trying to calm him as much as possible. 

Keith on the other hand was lost to the dizzying warp of reality, with no concept of how much time had passed, or what was happening around him. The whoosh of blood in his head was deafening, and the intense pain of his ears had him grinding his teeth in agony.

Distantly, Keith saw several white-coloured blurs moving towards him. He could feel Lance’s body shake as he yelled something to them, and then one of the figures moved closer. It was holding something small. Something silver. Keith squinted, trying desperately to focus on whatever it was.

Suddenly realizing, the half-Galra began to writhe in Lance’s lap, trying frantically to squirm away from it. He felt the brunette’s thin fingers clamp around his body, stiffly restraining him as he continued to kick his legs in distress.

The glistening tip of the needle inched closer and closer to Keith’s neck, as Lance tugged back his head to better expose the area. The Blade was hysterical, snapping his teeth feverishly as he tried to escape despite his condition. All he could hear was the Red Paladin murmuring the same garbled words as the sharp prick finally punctured his neck, and suddenly his consciousness slipped into black.

He couldn’t understand what Lance had said, but the guilt in his eyes made it feel like an apology.

Chapter Text

–nk.

Plink.

Plink.

Keith’s eyelids were heavy.

Plink.

His mouth tasted dry and rubbery.

Plink.

And his head felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton.

Plink.

But if there was one thing he was at least vaguely aware of, it was how unbearably irritating that noise was.

“Mmn…” He groaned, trying to lift his head lethargically. The half-Galra struggled to raise his hands, as though they were pinned down with weights, and languidly curled his pillow over his ears.

That was better. 

Plink.

…Or maybe not.

Keith growled deep in the back of his throat, wriggling weakly against his mattress as he tried to better muffle the grating dripping sound.

“Keith?” A familiar voice croaked through the pillow. Despite the additional padding, it still somehow sounded loud enough to have been whispered directly onto his eardrum.

Cautiously, the Blade peeled back the cushioning that covered his face. He blearily stared at nothing for a moment before the lag of his brain finally caught up, prompting him to look towards whoever had just spoken.

Sitting next to his hospital bed was the Red Paladin. His hair was matted and furled on one side, as if he’d been laying on it for a long while, and there were dark bags under his eyes that looked as though they’d been stained with wetness not too long ago.

Keith’s chapped lips parted to rasp out the other boy’s name – “Lhhh…” was all that came out, however, before his head limply flopped back down again.

“D–don’t push yourself! There’s…probably still traces of the sedative in your system.” 

…Sedative? Keith’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion – his memory was still rather fuzzy at the moment, and his mind felt like it was full of static. 

Plink.

The half-Galra’s eye twitched. Grappling with his deadened tongue, he managed to groan out “Ta..a..ap.”

“Huh? Tap…? Oh, did you want a drink of water? I’ll go get it, won’t be a tick!”

Before Keith could say no, or at least manage to shake his head, Lance was already out of his chair. He went and poured the Blade a glass from the faucet in the small bathroom connected to the room, but Keith sighed a breath of relief as he heard the tap tightened enough to stop the relentless droplets.

“Here you go,” Lance said gently, thrusting the cup up to Keith’s lips.

Figuring it was probably easier to just cooperate, he leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth to take a sip. Instead, the half-Galra felt the icy water dribble down his chin, forming a small pool in the crevice of his collarbone. He let out a frustrated whine. 

“Ahh! I’m so sorry! Here, let me get that for you!” The brunette’s hands were suddenly over his neck, using the hem of his jacket to dab up the spill.

…Was he wearing that the last time Keith saw him? Spacing out, the Blade’s hands ghosted over the places Lance had touched him, feeling the slight dampness still lingering on his skin. The tickle of his own nails drew his attention downwards, and he marveled at his clawed hands for a moment. He vaguely remembered they’d looked this way for a while now. 

This recollection prompted him to explore his body again, lifting the thin bedsheet up to confirm his tail was still there. Catching sight of it poking out from between his legs, he dropped the fabric and let his hand fall towards his face. Keith’s fingers wandered curiously towards his hairline, taking pleasure in the varying textures. Unexpectedly, however, they halted upon coming into contact with some kind of gauze. He groped along the rough strip of fabric, which seemed to be wrapped all the way around his head. 

“Hey, don’t touch that!” Lance reached out, grabbing Keith by the wrist and pulling his hand away. “They’re still healing; you need to leave them alone.”

They? Keith had no idea what the other boy was talking about but shot him a bitter pout as his arm was released. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was supposed to be angry at Lance for some reason. Just looking at the Red Paladin made a strange irritation bubble up inside his stomach – if only he could actually remember why.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Keith’s scowl intensified; he wasn’t sure why either, but maybe he could get Lance to talk.

“Wh–are you mad at me? What was I supposed to do, Keith?” The brunette threw his hands up in exasperation.

Urging the other boy to open up further, Keith raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“No, that’s not fair! You were…you were writhing on the floor in pain, your ears were bleeding, and you couldn’t even stand. I told the medic team that you didn’t like needles, but they said it was the only way to get you back here safe, okay! I’m sorry. But I…I didn’t have a choice.”

Keith furrowed his brows, straining to remember the scenario that Lance had just described. Concentrating on his ears, he realized he couldn’t even feel them at the moment, his nerves seemingly numbed on either side of his head. On the other hand, his hearing seemed to have no issues at all, with every miniscule noise vying for the half-Galra’s attention in the tiny, clinical room.

Feeling restless, Keith decided that he’d had enough of laying down. With a grunt, he tried pushing himself upright, feebly squirming against the mattress.

“Hey, hold on. Just let me help you, alright?” Lance reached behind the Blade’s head, yanking the pillow out from underneath and propping it against the headboard. He then hooked his thumbs underneath Keith’s armpits, straining himself as he pulled the boy into a more upright position. “There…you go…” He huffed, digging his hands into his hips in exhaustion.

Keith didn’t give Lance any acknowledgement, seemingly too distracted by shoving his hand in his mouth, so that he could feel his pointed teeth. 

“…Are you not talking to me on purpose? Like, are you ignoring me because of what happened in the clothing store earlier? I mean, maybe I would deserve that…but I can’t tell if it’s that, or if you’re just weird and spacey after the injection.” 

“–‘s hard…to talk…” Keith slurred, removing his fingers. “I can’t really…’member. But…I do feel mad.” He looked up at Lance with a glassy haze in his eyes, still fighting against the mental fog but trying his best to conjure a glare. “What’d you do?”

“N–Nothing! Look, if you don’t remember, maybe it’s best if we just pretend it didn’t happen. I mean, it was all a big misunderstanding, and I get how you feel now, so there’s no need to–”

“Lanceeee,” Keith whined, trying his best to sound intimidating. “Tell meeee.” He was certain that once the stupor of the sedative wore off, he’d recall all the reasons he was supposed to be angry at the brunette right now. In the meantime, he’d at least do his best to maintain the appropriate mood between them. 

“Ah, Keith, I see that you’re finally awake.” A tall alien woman abruptly strolled into the room, interrupting their stare-off. Lance jumped at the sudden intrusion. “I’m glad that you seem to have recovered fairly quickly.”

“Who…?” The half-Galra mumbled, pointing at the unfamiliar figure.

“It’s Deltria; we’ve met before. Unfortunately, you were given quite a high dose of medication, which can be known to affect cognitive and short-term memory function. Fortunately, it will only be temporary.” She stepped closer to Keith’s hospital bed, causing Lance to leap up from his seat.

“S–sorry, I’m in the way, aren’t I?” The Red Paladin shuffled awkwardly towards the door. “I’ll go; give you guys some privacy.” 

Deltria shook her head. “Nonsense, you’re welcome to stay. You’ve been quite kind, staying by his side all these hours,” she said, gesturing to Keith. Exactly how long had he been asleep, anyway? “Besides, it would be best if your whole team heard the results of our analysis. Would you perhaps be able to fetch them all instead, and bring everyone back here?”

“You got it, ma’am.” Lance gave a clumsy salute, before slinking his way out the door.

With the brunette out of the room, Keith was left alone with the strange woman he’d apparently already met. An uncomfortable silence hung thickly over the room – Keith could feel his head bobbing up and down with wooziness.

“So, how do you feel?” Deltria finally broke the silence, moving towards the foot of the bed to inspect the patient diagnostics on the tablet screen attached to it. 

“Dizzy. Tired.” Keith scratched at his scalp, the bandages there irritating his skin. “Angry cuz I can’t remember…stuff.”

“And what sort of ‘stuff’ would that be, exactly?” The Kalkaran gave a slight smirk – was she laughing at him?

“Why I’m here. What happened to my head.” He pointed to the gauze for effect. “I think…I hurt my ears. Lance knows stuff. He won’t tell me.”

“In that case, I might at least be able to clear some of that up for you.” Deltria carried the digital screen towards Keith’s bedside, holding the device up in front of him.

The half-Galra gave a light nod, pretending he was actually able to read any of it. He couldn’t quite decide if it was written in an alien language, or if his brain was really just that scrambled right now.

“So, if you look at this dark spot here, this is your eardrum.” The Kalkaran’s scaled finger traced over the diagram on the tablet. “When you were brought here, your eardrums had been severely ruptured. We’ve done what we can to mend them, but luckily they’ve been healing remarkably fast. Lance was kind enough to provide us with a comparison of human anatomy, so we were able to identify that there have been some structural changes within your ears.”

The number of needlessly long words that Deltria chose to string together made Keith’s head spin, but he’d understood the most important part well enough – something had, unsurprisingly, changed about him.

“Aside from some differences to the shape of your ears themselves, you’ll also find your hearing is much more sensitive now – we’ve provided some padding for the time being to help lessen the sound while you adjust, but it may still take some getting used to once this is removed.”

The half-Galra gently patted the side of his head, feeling something soft pressed against his ears – no wonder his head felt so heavy. But it was somewhat disconcerting how clearly he seemed to be able to hear everything right now despite this. He suddenly didn’t like the idea of removing his bandages, despite how uncomfortable they were.

“Yo, Keith! Good to see you awake again!” Hunk cheered, slicing through the serious mood of the room.

Coran briskly moved past him, rushing over to Keith’s bedside. He grabbed Keith’s jaw tightly, twisting his head from side to side as if to inspect the damage. “Oh, thank quiznak you’re alright! Allura’d have a right fit if I let something happen to you! Can’t let Team Coran fall on our first mission now, can we?”

Keith gave a lopsided smile, having no idea what any of that meant.

Pidge followed close behind the group, practically dragging Lance by his sleeve behind her. “I brought your boyfriend back with us, too – you’re welcome.” She released the brunette’s wrist, giving him a rough shove forward.

“I–I–I was coming!” Lance stuttered. “I just…thought it would be best if I give everyone a little space first, since I’ve already seen Keith after he woke up!”

Keith glowered – even if he didn’t already have an inkling, the Red Paladin was practically screaming ‘I’m in trouble right now’ at him. A hot flush of guilt was staining his cheeks, and his hands couldn’t help but fidget in the pockets of his jacket.

“Alright, thank you everyone for your company.” Deltria clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Now, while it is a bit of an odd setting to have this discussion, it seems best given the circumstances to get this out of the way as soon as possible.”

“So does this mean you were able to reach a conclusion about that quintessence sample?” Coran’s face lit up with intrigue.

“But of course; you doubt the scientists of Kalkara?” She smirked proudly, before continuing. “Now, there were a few interesting things we were able to determine. Firstly, as you suspected, this sample has been present in Keith’s body for a long while. To be a bit more precise, it’s been just shy of two decaphoebs since it was first introduced into his system.”

“Wait, doesn’t that make it about as old as Keith?” Hunk wondered aloud.

“Correct – it’s safe to assume this quintessence was introduced either just before, or just after his birth.”

“But what does that mean?” Pidge’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Well, upon further tests, we discovered that this mutated strand of quintessence has a few…interesting properties. It reacts very peculiarly when coming into contact with Galra DNA. In normal circumstances, using a pure sample, it causes rapid matter deterioration and cellular apoptosis.”

“I’m assuming Keith doesn’t count as ‘normal circumstances’, then?” Lance said, gesturing to the half-Galra worriedly.

“Yes, his genetic makeup is quite unique, leading to a more unusual reaction. When we tested the quintessence in conjunction with one of Keith’s samples, it acted as a sort of suppressant. The Galran parts of his DNA were inactivated, resulting in a monoallelic expression of purely human DNA.”

“So in other words, the quintessence was masking his Galran features to make him appear more human?” The Altean advisor stroked his moustache pensively. “I suppose it would make sense, considering he was raised on Earth.” 

Pidge adjusted her glasses, leaning towards the Blade as she spoke. “But then, doesn’t that mean that the way Keith looks now…is how he’s actually supposed to look?”

With that single revelation, a deafening silence swallowed up the room. Keith felt like a twig snapped inside his brain. 

He thought hard about how he looked – how he wasn’t ‘supposed’ to look. About how the Kalkarans, how his teammates, and how Lance had described it – like himself, but not quite himself anymore. 

Like his toothless grin in the mirror of his bathroom in the Marmoran base. Like his mottled reflection back in his quarters of the Castleship, becoming more and more stained with purple every time he dared to check. And, he finally recalled, like the god-damned photo in that clothing shop that Lance thought would somehow make him feel better.

The very notion that he was more himself now than he’d ever been made the bile curdle at the back of his throat.

“I mean!” Lance’s shrill voice cut through the heavy atmosphere. “Keith…looks different now. And it isn’t a bad thing! But I don’t think it’s fair to say the way he looked before was any less ‘real’, or the way he looks now is any more ‘fake’. He’s…um…” Lance turned expectantly to Hunk, who threw his hands up in alarm.

“H–he’s…our friend!” The Yellow Paladin exclaimed, pounding his fist against his chest.

“And our team mate!” Pidge added, giving a confident nod.

“A valued member of the Voltron Alliance!” Coran clenched his hands enthusiastically.

Deltria stood blankly for a moment, seemingly unaffected by the outburst. Instead, she pursed her lips and simply said “…regardless, what this means is that there’s no way to reproduce the effect of this mutated quintessence. Now that it’s been drained from your body…well, think of it like spilling a glass of water. There’s no way to simply ‘put back’ the liquid that fell out – it’s an empty glass now.” 

Keith’s hands twisted sharply in the bedsheets – that was the last answer he’d wanted to hear. They’d come to Kalkara for a solution; for a way to make him normal again. But now he was being told that this was normal, and that the person he thought he once was…wasn’t. 

Tensing his features, he flipped the covers off the bed, kicking himself up from the mattress forcefully.

“K–Keith, wait! You just woke up, it’s not a good idea to move arou–”

The half-Galra staggered forward, cutting Lance off with a hard bump as he shoved past him. The lingering vertigo swam through his head, but he stumbled forward anyway, clinging to the doorframe as he gracelessly stormed out of the room.

Knowing it wouldn’t be too long before everyone trailed after him, Keith ducked his head into the room next door. A large, hulking alien lay unconscious on the hospital bed, a strange tube filled with yellow liquid connected to one of his four arms. As quietly as his clumsy body would allow, the Blade crept inside the room and huddled behind the large figure, leaning towards the floor so that he could keep an eye out from underneath the bed.

He heard the growing clatter of footsteps over by the doorway, before Coran called out. “N–now Keith, I understand you’re upset! But this is no time to be running off!” 

“His jelly legs can’t have gotten him too far,” Pidge stated. “Might be more efficient if we split up and look. Has everyone got their communicators on them?”

Keith heard his teammates all respond affirmatively.

“Okay, let’s all meet back here in half an hour if we don’t find him.” Lance said, an anxious quiver to his voice.

“The facility is quite large, you know,” Deltria interrupted. “And the time you’ve wasted discussing this plan of yours has given Keith quite the head-start.”

“…Fine, make it an hour then. Let’s move, guys!”

The tramping of footsteps resumed, with the Paladins scattering in all directions at the command. A single, thumping set of feet slowly paced into the room he was hiding in, and Keith quickly sucked in a tight breath, holding it vigilantly.

“KE–ah! Keith…buddy, you in here?” Hunk whispered, almost waking the sleeping patient by accident. The Yellow Paladin only took another step or two, surveying the area as best as he could without disturbing the alien’s slumber, before disappearing back into the hallway. 

Once he was sure he was in the clear, Keith sighed out in relief – thank god Hunk was so polite. Lingering for a few more moments, he carefully made his way over to the exit, peering past the doorframe discreetly to make sure nobody was still around.

Satisfied by the empty expanse either side of him, the half-Galra stumbled out into the corridor, running his fingers along the wall supportively as he began to walk in whatever direction he was pulled in. It didn’t matter where he was headed – he just needed to be alone right now. 

Keith could feel his ears prickle at any slight noise, which made it easy to avoid accidentally running into anybody. If his hearing was this sensitive already, he felt apprehensive about the idea that the numbness would eventually wear off.

…No, it wasn’t the time to think about that. His feet were gradually regaining their balance, and so Keith continued to wander the halls, seeking out the most secluded wing of the medical facility he could find. He coiled all of his emotions into a tight ball in his chest, not letting anything leak out; holding in the anguished scream that would give anything to rip through his throat at that moment.

The faint tickle of dust scratched at the back of his nose, signaling that he was heading towards one of the less-frequented areas of the building. The Blade traced the dark edges of an unlit door down the dead-end hall with his eyes, scuffing his boots along the concrete floor as he crept closer.

Reaching the far wall, Keith’s nails dragged over the keypad, causing the digital panel to light up at the touch. The metal doorway hissed open, and the musk of wet dirt and pollen assaulted his senses. Noticing that the lights inside were turned off, the half-Galra took it as a sign that nobody was around – most likely, this particular department had already packed up for the night. He slinked inside the mysterious room, listening as the entrance closed behind him.

The room itself wasn’t completely dark – a sprawling skylight took up the entire ceiling, as well as the right-hand wall, allowing the dappling of starlight to leak through the clear glass panes. If the smell alone hadn’t been enough of an indication, the rows upon rows of leafy shrubs, glossy green ferns and puckered flower buds led Keith to safely assume he was in some sort of greenhouse. Scanning further across some of the nearby work benches, it looked like certain substances were being extracted from the plants for medicinal purposes. Idly, Keith wondered which of them had been used to knock him out earlier today.

The fragrant fuzz that continued to fill the Blade’s nostrils only served to further agitate his emotional state, each labored breath leaving a sour tartness on his tongue. An empty glass, huh? he spat; is that all I’m worth now? He punctuated the thought with a sharp kick to one of the empty pots on the floor. The ceramic shatter echoed distantly back at him, and the deep heat in his chest swelled further. For someone supposedly empty, Keith hadn’t felt this close to bursting for a long while.

He grabbed the grassy herbs by the fistful, scraping them along the bench and flinging them aside with abandon. There was a low rumble in his throat that couldn’t be contained, and so Keith let it tear right through him, screaming as he toppled one of the large metal tables with his alien strength. The chaotic clatter of pots and wet slap of leaves on concrete rang sharply in his ears, but he didn’t care. The half-Galra needed the catharsis of dragging his claws through the mulch-lined planters, of stomping on the glass lab equipment to feel the satisfying crunch beneath his foot, and of yelling without restraint until his throat was completely raw.

For the first time in these last few months, Keith just wanted to be allowed to feel something – without anyone there to try and hold him back.

The half-Galra sucked in ragged breaths, his shoulders heaving with exhaustion. All of the pent up rage inside of him had billowed off like steam, leaving Keith surrounded by the destructive aftermath of his temper. He staggered tiredly over to the glass wall, letting his back lean against it as he slid himself down to the floor. The Blade didn’t necessarily feel better about anything, but at least he wasn’t quite so smothered by his frustrations anymore. The heavy fatigue weighing down his limbs was probably calming him down a bit, too.

Keith would be lying if he said he hadn’t adjusted to the way he looked, at least somewhat. But that was only because, in his mind, it was temporary. It was like a bad dream that he just hadn’t worked out how to wake up from. But this? This was far worse – the reality staring him in the face this whole time that he was a Galra. That he’d always been a Galra.

Ever since he’d found out about his mother, the normality of his appearance had definitely crossed Keith’s mind once or twice. He looked so human, after all – nothing about him would ever have given away his alien heritage, had it not been for the knife that was left behind to remind him. It had always seemed strange to him that not a single part of his outward appearance reflected his mother’s blood in his veins.

Really, he shouldn’t have been so naïve. So stupid.

Keith slapped his hand against the ground resentfully, the dry crunch of broken glass breaking the hollow silence of the room, if only for a moment.

He’d probably never find out why his parents thought it was better for him to pass as a human, either. Why allowing him to spend his whole life masquerading as a normal kid, without even knowing it, was better than…whatever life he could have had. Keith never knew what happened to his mum – his dad refused to talk about it, always with a solemn look in his eyes. Eventually, Keith knew not to ask about it anymore. 

But maybe if he’d pushed it, he wouldn’t be here now, squirming uncomfortably in his own foreign skin. He would have had a chance to learn the truth from people that mattered to him, instead of a planet of aliens that despised his very existence.

KSHHH.

Keith jolted at the sound of a mechanized door sliding open – he’d completely forgotten about the manhunt currently on his trail. Hurriedly, he shuffled behind one of the toppled pot plants, trying to peek between the speckled blue leaves.

Don’t be Lance. Don’t be Lance.

“…Keith, you in here?” A soft, nasally voice hummed from the shadows.

Naturally, it had to be Lance.

Keith scurried backwards as he saw the mop of chocolate curls bobbing towards him, obscured by the wreckage he’d laid out earlier. The Blade’s eyesight definitely gave him the upper hand in the darkness, but the obstacle course of planters and lab equipment was making it somewhat difficult to track the Red Paladin’s approach.

A sharp clatter suddenly pierced the room as Lance tripped over a pile of broken pottery. “AHH!” He squawked, startled by the collision. “K–Keith, where are you? I know you probably made this mess!”

The half-Galra scowled to himself, stealthily circling back towards the door. As if he was just going to come out because Lance had asked him to. For one, he was still mad at the other boy for keeping what happened earlier today a secret from him. Now that his mind had sharpened itself, he could recall with crystal clarity the way that the brunette had shot down all of his self-doubts – just because Lance didn’t mind how his body had changed, that somehow meant he wasn’t allowed to mind, either. That those differences, which were so ‘invisible’ to him, somehow weren’t the only thing everyone else seemed to be able to focus on.

And, even pushing that aside, Keith didn’t want to see anyone right now. He was sick of hearing their words of comfort, of hate…of pity. Most of all, he was sick of hearing the truth. The half-Galra wished he could go back to that period of hopeful ignorance only a few days ago, where his self-loathing didn’t carry the same permanence.

“A-ha!” Lance’s voice sliced through Keith’s train of thought, an accusatory finger materializing inches away from the Blade’s face. “I knew you were hiding in here somewhere!”

“Fuck off, Lance.” He snarled, caught off-guard by the vulnerable crack of his own words. Keith didn’t mean to zone out in the middle of his evasion, and now he was trapped in the corner by the absolute last person he wanted to speak to right now.

A dull ache burrowed deeper into the half-Galra’s chest, as he turned his head away from the brunette sharply to press his cheek against the glass wall.

“…Hey. Please don’t say that.” Lance ran his hand through his bangs, his disheveled appearance suggesting how frantically he must’ve been searching beforehand. The Red Paladin crouched down, leaning forward in an unsuccessful attempt to catch Keith’s gaze. “Look, we don’t have to go anywhere if you’re not ready to. I mean…” he gestured to the desolation throughout the room. “…You’re upset. I totally get it, okay?”

“Do you?” Keith snipped, whipping his head around to glare directly into the brunette’s tired blue eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the expert on my feelings – wasn’t that why you had to remind me what they were, since I obviously couldn’t decipher them myself?”

“Wh–” Lance cocked his head in confusion. “I don’t understa–wait, this is…about what happened in the clothing shop before, isn’t it?”

Keith said nothing, scrunching his lips tighter.

“No, listen – you’re right, okay? You’re right. I really messed up.” Lance let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging as he slid lower onto his knees. “I thought I was doing the right thing, telling you that you were still the same person…but that wasn’t fair. It was just what I wanted you to say, so that things between us could go back to how they used to be, too.”

“You don’t think I want that too?” Keith rebutted. “I’d give anything to go back to the way things were before all this shit went down. But I can’t do that, Lance! Even if I act like I don’t look like this, like I never had to turn my back on everyone just to keep it a secret…no matter how much I pretend, things are always going to be different now.”

“You’re right; things are different now – but that’s okay! Things change all the time, Keith. People change all the time; I mean…look at us, for example.” The Red Paladin blushed, but his eyebrows still drooped solemnly as he stared back at the half-Galran. “We can’t expect to adjust straight away to it. I can’t expect you to just get over things because I don’t think they’re significant. The person you used to be, and the person you are now…they are different. But I love them both, Keith. I love you.” 

The Blade’s heart stuttered in his chest. While his frustration still lingered, he could feel Lance’s sincerity washing it away, until it was only a faint shadow on his mind. He reached forward, scooping up Lance’s hands into his own.

“…I know you’d never say anything to hurt me on purpose. Still, it…means a lot for you to say all of that.” He tugged on Lance’s palms, pulling the other boy closer. “I’m still angry, but…I think I just want to hug you. Can I…?”

The brunette nodded gently, lifting his arms as Keith looped his own around the boy’s slender waist. The half-Galra’s head nuzzled into the crook of Lance’s neck, inhaling the sweet, fruity scent of his skin and pressing his face into the soft fabric of his hood.

It felt like time didn’t exist as they both sat there in each other’s embrace. It wasn’t a passionate hug, but rather a moment of pure serenity. Keith drank in Lance’s presence, as pure as the moonlight that danced across his cheeks, the tiny freckles there spread out like constellations. The other boy looked ethereal, like Keith’s hands would pass through him if he squeezed too tightly, or not tight enough. He felt the warmth of affection settle deep in his chest, its tendrils spreading out pleasantly through his veins.

With a drawn-out breath, Keith gently parted his lips to speak. “I’m sure this is pretty obvious, but…I’ve always had a hard time talking about my feelings.”

“…I know.” Lance replied simply, rubbing his thumb along the half-Galra’s spine.

“It’s like…like I just put up these walls, and then somehow still expect everyone to be able to see through them. I mean, you knew that I was unhappy, and you were just trying to make me feel better about myself!” Keith lifted his head, his nose only inches away from the Red Paladin’s. “You got it wrong because I refused to talk to you about it, and then I blew up at you. That’s not fair.” 

“Stop it,” Lance pouted, lightly bumping his forehead against Keith’s. “I don’t expect you to apologise. You forgave me, so we’re even.”

“Well, it still doesn’t feel that way!” The Blade frowned, leaning forward with a slightly harder bump.

“Ow!” Lance laughed, reaching up to rub his scalp. “Dude, come on. You don’t think I at least know that much about you by now? I know you’ve never been one to just tell people what’s on your mind. That’s just who you are! But it wouldn’t be fair to blame you every single time I don’t notice your feelings, either – how bad of a boyfriend would that make me?”

“But I’m trying to take your advice, see? I’m embracing change.”

“Well then I’m very proud of you.” Lance reached towards Keith’s jawline, sweeping back a stray hair and tucking it behind his ear. “But seriously, we’re good, alright?”

Keith paused for a long moment, staring back at the other boy as his statement hung in the air. He bit his lip, in awe of the brunette’s features so close to him. The half-Galra’s eyes wandered over Lance’s sun-kissed skin, and the two shallow dimples that punctuated his smile. Light poured around him from behind like a halo, and his wide pupils were like pitch black pools that Keith couldn’t help but get lost in. In fact, he felt like they were pulling him in already, closer and closer.

He felt his nose brush against Lance’s, and then the softness of his thin lips colliding with his own. It was chaste, fleeting, barely lasting more than a second. But the sweet taste of strawberries lingered, and Keith licked his lips, savouring it.

“…Now...we’re good.”

The brunette sat unmoving for several long seconds, blinking deliberately as if his brain had short-circuited. “Wh–wh–whhh–” he blubbered uselessly, fingers delicately dabbing at his lips to quell the tingling sensation. “Oh my goddddd! Keiiiithhhhh!”

“Does…that mean that you liked it?” Keith laughed, watching as the Red Paladin’s face flushed a violent shade of scarlet. He could practically see steam shooting out of the other boy’s ears.

“No! You can’t just steal my first kiss like that!” He slapped his hands over his cheeks bashfully. “I wasn’t ready; how dare you go all Mr. Suave on me!”

Keith smiled, lacing his fingers with Lance’s as he uncovered the other boy’s face. “I can do whatever I want. And besides…it was my first kiss too, you know.”

“W–well good!” The Red Paladin puffed out his chest dramatically. “Um…thank you.”

“…Dude, are you seriously thanking me?”

“Shut upppp, it’s weird now and I don’t know what to say!” Lance whined, his mouth curving into a soft grin. 

The Blade hummed wistfully, resting his chin back onto the brunette’s shoulder. “You know, I wish this moment could last forever. I don’t want to go back to everyone – back to reality.”

Lance shifted forward slightly, reaching a hand into his jacket pocket and rummaging around inside. He pulled out a small device – his communicator – flicking the screen on. The bright light was piercing, even in the corner of Keith’s eye.

“We’ve got time,” Lance said, switching the object off again and putting it away. “Not sure how you’re gonna explain all of this, though.” He gestured towards the trashed laboratory, a littered mess of broken terracotta pieces and scattered foliage. “But…we can cross that bridge a bit later.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t even want to think about that right now. If Deltria doesn’t kill me for tearing up one of her labs, Coran definitely will,” Keith huffed, rolling his head to one side. “There is one thing I have been thinking about though. When did you get your jacket back?”

“Oh, Hunk went and picked it up. I didn’t really want to leave the hospital, but I mentioned that I still had the ticket stub to get it later and hoped the guy wouldn’t just throw it out if I wasn’t there on time. You know what Hunk’s like; he snatched the ticket out of my hand and magically returned with my jacket about an hour later.” Lance scoffed. “Apparently, the shopkeeper couldn’t even tell it wasn’t me – Hunk got told that it ‘wasn’t his fault that all humans look identical’, and that we should ‘wear name badges if we care so much’.”

Keith chuckled, shaking his head against Lance’s shoulder. “At least I feel a bit better about when we met him – I thought it was because of how I look, but I guess he’s just rude to everyone.”

“Hmm, kinda reminds me of someone else I know.” Lance teased.

“Harsh,” Keith derided, butting his head against the other boy’s chest.

Instead of reacting, the brunette ran gentle fingers through the half-Galra’s matted locks, scratching his scalp in all the right places. He moved further down the boy’s spine, earning a breathy groan in response. His touch was soothing, comforting, and Keith couldn’t help but swish his tail lazily in delight. Lance then dragged his nails up again, rubbing all the way up to his bandaged head. Keith twitched at the interruption. 

“Ugh, I don’t care whether my ears are done healing or not,” He jerked upwards, hooking his thumb under the gauze dressing; “this thing’s driving me nuts.” 

“Whoa, just hold on a tick!” Lance knocked Keith’s hand away. “If you’re not gonna be careful, at least let me do it for you.”

The Red Paladin carefully unpinned the strip of white fabric, slowly unwrapping it from around the Blade’s skull. Folding the bandages into a neat pile, he placed them on the floor to one side, before gently reaching towards Keith’s earlobe. The other boy flinched slightly.

“What’re you doing?”

“There’s still some padding stuffed in your ears, I’m just pulling it out for you.” Lance reached for Keith’s ears again, this time without any resistance. The half-Galra could hear the loud wooshing of material leaving his ear canal – it seemed to go on forever, with much more wadded up inside them than he’d expected.

“HOW’S THAT?” Lance boomed, causing the other boy to recoil in alarm.

“Fuck, Lance – don’t yell at me!” Keith clamped his hands over his ears, his fingers twitching at the unexpected shapes beneath them.

“I’M NO–” the brunette paused, lowering his voice before he continued. “I’m not yelling; that was literally the same volume I’ve been speaking at this whole time. Are your ears…” He cast a worried gaze towards the other boy. “…Are they that sensitive?”

“I–I don’t know,” Keith mumbled, wincing at his own loudness – apparently, they were. “They feel different though,” he added, tracing his elongated lobes with his fingers. “do they look different?”

Lance bit his lip worriedly. “Um. Yeah, kinda.”

Keith grimaced, eyes scanning the room for something he could use as a mirror to take a look for himself. Spotting the glass ceiling, he remembered the same reflective panes he was leaning on and turned around to assess the damage. 

“Oh god. They’re like big fucking butterfly wings.” He pinched at the pointed cartilage of his ears, his helixes poking out from beneath his hair like a goblin. He bent them forward, finding them to be much more malleable now, and saw that the backs were covered in the same dark fuzz as the ridge of his tail. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look cute,” Lance comforted, placing a gentle hand over the half-Galra’s thigh. “You just have to get used to them. It’s just because they look so different, but…you’re kinda like a sexy purple elf now.” 

“…What the fuck, Lance.” Keith choked, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t want to know about your weird fetishes! Is this why you liked Allura, too? Do you have a pointy-ear kink?”

“NOOOO!!” Lance protested, briefly forgetting to keep his voice down for Keith’s sake. “I’m trying to be nice; stop twisting my words!”

“Hey, you’re the one who just uttered the phrase ‘sexy purple elf’ – there was no twisting required.”

The brunette groaned, rubbing at his own face in embarrassment. Keith laughed, looking at the window as a bright flicker caught his eye. “Hey, did you see that?” He pressed his index finger against the glass. “Something bright just flashed by the sky for a second there.”

“Do you think it was a shooting star?” Lance hummed, resting his head against the half-Galra’s broad shoulders. 

“Maybe. You wanna make a wish?” 

“I’m surprised you even know about that superstition.” 

“I grew up in the desert, Lance. You think I’ve never spent a night just looking at the stars?” Keith pouted, gazing longingly at the sky.

Lance glanced between the window and Keith, undecided as to which was more captivating. “Well then…I wish you’d kiss me again.”

“Um, wait a sec…” Keith interrupted, squashing his finger into the brunette’s pursed lips. “I don’t think that’s a shooting star, actually–”

As if on cue, the flicker of light suddenly swelled, forming a blinding streak in the sky before disappearing behind the tall skyscrapers of the Capital. Then, all of a sudden, there was a white-hot flash. The rippling roar of the impact was fierce, causing the city to shake from the explosive force. A visible shockwave pulsed out from the centre of the blast, colliding with the lab in a wall of noise. Keith ground his teeth at the high-pitched screech, strong enough to shatter the glass-paneled room.

Unscrewing his eyelids, the half-Galra lifted his head again to look back towards the city. In a matter of moments, it had erupted in flames, the distant screams and sirens echoing clear as day to Keith’s heightened senses.

“Holy shit…” The Blade hissed, brushing away the shards of glass that had been sprayed over his body. 

“Look, over there,” Lance whispered, his hand trembling as he pointed towards a spot in the sky.

A dark black ship loomed amongst the stars, marked by telltale fuschia-coloured lights carved out of the hull.

Apparently, Keith was no longer the only Galra who’d decided to pay Kalkara a visit.

Chapter Text

The room was eerily quiet. The two boys sat frozen, not daring to utter a word. But with the wall of glass now shattered open, Keith could faintly make out the distant roar of the Capital. He listened to the sirens, the screaming – heard it burning to the ground. The smell of hot rubber and melting plastic scorched his nostrils. Numbly, he reached over to grip Lance’s hand, squeezing it to steel himself against the orange flames that spiked across his vision. Reflections glinted off the clear shards surrounding them, like a thousand glowing eyes flickering with danger.

The half-Galra swallowed dryly, feeling the weight of the assault punch him right in the chest. He felt a breathy wheeze leave his lungs, and very little else, his mouth still stumbling for words. 

“How did this…” Lance rasped, digging his nails into Keith’s palm slightly. “How did this happen ? They…they told us th–”

A shrill ring from the Red Paladin’s pocket suddenly interrupted him. With an exasperated huff, Lance rummaged at his side before pulling out a small communicator. It was sleek and red, obviously matching his Lion.

“Ah, Lance! Please tell me Keith is with you!” the holographic image of Coran squawked, his voice taut with urgency. 

“I’m here,” Keith replied, leaning over Lance’s shoulder into view. “What the hell just happened?”

“Oh, thank quiznak,” The Altean sighed, his hand resting on his chest in relief. “We hadn’t heard word yet, so we were worried the two of you might both be missing! As for the commotion outside, we still don’t have much information, but it looks like…well, the Galra have launched an assault on Kalkara.”

“B–But! What about the impenetrable defenses you told us about?!” Lance stammered, eyes wide with panic. “Those giant turrets – weren’t they supposed to protect the Capital from something like this? Why haven’t any shots gone off?”

“Well, I never said impenetrable ,” Coran twisted his moustache nervously between his fingertips. “You’re precisely right though; those turrets are designed to detect any foreign vessels within Kalkara’s atmosphere, and respond accordingly. The fact that they didn’t is…quite troubling, to say the least.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter how they got in,” Keith interrupted, his teeth clenched together tightly. “The Galra are here now, and they’re gonna take down the whole city if we don’t do something!”

“We need our Lions,” Lance agreed. “We need to stop whoever’s piloting that warship!”

“Since you’ve found Keith, let’s all reconvene in the east wing as planned. I’ll let the others know – you two just worry about getting back here as quickly as possible!”

The two boys nodded, earning a stiff salute from the Altean before the projected comm screen blipped off. 

Lance stared back tensely at Keith, before extending his hand forward. “C–come on then, we don’t have time to waste!”

Keith nodded, grasping the brunette’s clammy palm as he hoisted himself upright. His eyes gave one last cursory glance at the state of the greenhouse – on the plus side, at least he was probably off the hook now for trashing the place. Finally striding forward, Keith’s boots crunched with each step; it seemed as though the trail of glass shards managed to stretch all the way out into the corridor. Lance’s head whipped around as they passed through the doorway, trying to regain his bearings.

“Uh, shoot! Which way was it again?” Lance’s voice squeaked, his building anxiety raising it an octave or two.

“Don’t ask me,” Keith shrugged, “you think I was in the right mindset to be paying attention to that sort of stuff earlier?”

The Red Paladin frowned, rubbing a tired hand across his temples.

“Hey, hello! Anyone there?” A sudden yell off in the distance caught Keith’s attention, his sensitive ears prickling at the sound.

“…Did you hear that?” 

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “Hear what?” 

“I think someone’s calling out from down the hallway.” Keith paused, pondering for a moment. “I think it might’ve been Pidge.”

Slipping his hand loose from the other boy’s grasp, the Blade chased the familiar voice down the winding halls. Rounding a corner, then another, he finally spotted a mop of fluffy brown hair in the distance. 

“Pidge!”

The Green Paladin twirled around to face the two boys approaching from behind. “Keith! Lance! Thank god, I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys. Or literally anyone, really.” She jogged towards the half-Galran, giving him a firm slap to the shoulder. “I can’t believe you, though! You scared the shit out of everyone, running off like that!” 

“Hey, cut him some slack. It’s been a…rough day.” Lance panted, still catching his breath. 

“Oh no, don’t you give me that either! What happened to calling the team if you found him, huh?”

Lance pulled an exasperated scowl. “It’s not like I wasn’t going to! It was just–”

“–It’s my fault, okay?” Keith huffed, silencing the paladins. “This isn’t the time to be arguing.”

Pidge bit her lip guiltily. “No, you’re right. Things are getting pretty crazy right now, but we can’t let that go to our heads. That’s my bad, Keith.” 

Giving a stiff nod, the Blade turned his attention to the wall behind the shorter paladin. Mounted on it was a large plaque, showing a map of the medical wing’s third floor. He stepped around her, moving closer to assess their position. 

Right now, they knew that the building had been damaged – the extent, however, was still unknown. After what he and Lance saw from the greenhouse, Keith at least knew it wasn’t good.

He planted his finger on their current location, tracing out the best escape path. The half-Galran wasn’t about to put his faith in the building’s structural integrity right now, so the elevators were out of the question. They’d have to head towards the stairwell access point, which was over in the biochemical ward.

“Ugh, why couldn’t we be on the ground floor,” he groaned, before tapping the stairwell symbol on the map for emphasis. “Okay, so this is where we need to head next.”

“Right,” Pidge agreed. “Once we’re out of here, we need to get to our Lions ASAP. We don’t know if the Castleship’s still accessible right now, so we may need to rely on calling them to us.”

With the growing sense of urgency pounding audibly through the walls, the three teammates began to move. Keith’s long legs propelled him to the front, the others trailing close behind him.

“So basically, we just have to escape the flaming hospital before it collapses, use our fickle telepathy powers to summon our Lions, and defeat the dangerous warship that just blew up the Kalkaran capital! Piece of cake!” Lance moaned sarcastically. 

“First of all – if you have the energy to complain, you have the energy to run faster,” Pidge grunted between breaths. “Second of all –”

“Enough!” Keith interjected. “The stairwell’s just at the end of this hall. We’ll figure out what to do once we meet up with Hunk and Coran.”

Lance and Pidge both nodded tersely – there was no point in bickering about plans and probabilities. Their only priority right now was to get to the east wing and regroup.

As the trio pounded down the long-stretching hallway, a glass, tunnel-like catwalk extended out before them. Keith was the first to enter the structure, feeling his pupils jitter at the shift into sudden darkness from beyond the surrounding windows. He turned his head slightly, once more catching a glimpse of the formerly-opulent city now lost in a haze of smoke and flames. Panning his gaze upwards, he could see the neon streaks of cruisers circling, vulture-like, and the flickering specks of gunfire peppering the air. In any other circumstance, he’d dare say that the way the purple bolts of energy lit up the surrounding clouds was almost pretty.

“Weird to think we were there only a few hours ago…” Pidge mused wryly.

The Blade never thought he’d ever actually be thankful for one of his untimely transformations, but it seemed like this one was the only reason they weren’t crawling their way through the rubble right now. His heightened hearing could make out the pulse of cannons and screech of metal-on-metal above them, even through the catwalk’s glass walls. It was a sickening cacophony unlike anything he’d experienced, the reverberations of battle echoing right through his bones.

“That’s a lot of gunfire…” Lance muttered. “There has to be at least a hundred ships out there.” Abruptly, the Red Paladin slowed his pace to a jog. “Wait…is it just me? Or are those shots getting…”

“...Bigger…” Keith murmured, stalling to a halt as his eyes stared out into the blackness. There were two – no, three lilac flares blooming larger and larger as they hurtled straight for the trio. 

“Get across the catwalk! Now! ” Pidge bolted past the two boys, stunning them out of their stupor. 

The clatter of frantic footsteps rang down the corridor, as Pidge, Lance and Keith sprinted forward with all the force they could muster. The catwalk was vibrating from the compounding reverberations…no, wait, that wasn’t it. It was the hot bolts of pure energy ripping through the air, sending shockwaves that made the suspended walkway groan and quake dangerously.

Keith was again leading the group, his long and powerful strides closing the gap between him and the end of the corridor. He could see purple light stretching across the windows, tinting everything with the same violet hue as his skin. With his new build, he was fast…but he still wasn’t fast enough.

“We’re not gonna make it!” The Blade inhaled sharply, the first bright spark streaking right at the edge of his vision. He skidded to a halt, turning sharply backwards and glaring at his two teammates urgently. “ Get back!!” He managed to hiss, before the shot finally pierced the glass ceiling.

For a brief moment, Keith felt like he was traveling in slow motion. The shockwave of the blast hit first, and he felt his body slowly suspended into the air. A glittering swirl of glass and metal hovered around him, and both Lance and Pidge gaped at the half-Galran with the same terror-stricken expression as they too were lifted by the sheer pressure. The impact, however, was far less forgiving. Hot, crackling energy slammed into the back of Keith, smashing him into his teammates and onto the crumbling floor. His skin prickled painfully, the sear of the shot scorching the backs of his arms.

Before the Blade could so much as gasp for breath, a second round tore through the collapsing tunnel, tearing off chunks of concrete along with it. Keith hugged his friends tightly in each arm, again feeling his exposed flesh sizzle as he shielded them from danger. Beneath his knees, Keith felt the ground shifting  – the structure was beginning to break apart. He lunged forward, dragging Lance and Pidge with him, back towards the other end of the catwalk. His eardrums felt like they were bursting all over again, the dreadful ringing drowning out his teammates frenzied yelps.

The trio scrambled back towards the west wing, the looming flare of the third blast casting jagged shadows in front of them. Debris still tumbled around them in all directions; Lance squawked loudly as he stubbed his foot on a particularly thick chunk of steel, but managed to continue hobbling ahead.

Then, it was as if all of the oxygen was sucked out of the corridor. The only sounds Keith could hear were the heaving of his own lungs and the blood rushing through his head, until suddenly–

VWOOOOOM!

 –the final impact struck them. Metal beams groaned as they warped from the heat, and entire panes of glass cracked away and cascaded down into the gaping chasm left behind by the blasts. A sudden shudder underfoot made Keith’s heart lurch, and before he had any time to react, the ground beneath him dropped .

“ Shit!!” Keith’s arms frantically flailed about, searching for something – anything – to grab onto. Even his tail swished about futilely, as the Blade felt gravity beneath him shifting downwards. His mind clouded with terror, and an ominous darkness pricked at the edge of his vision. Was this…it?

“ KEEEEIIIITTHHHHH!!!” The Red Paladin’s voice sliced through Keith’s thoughts, and a hand grappled at his waistband – his shirt collar – his wrist ! “I’ve….got…you…!” Lance wheezed, finally latching onto the half-Galran’s arm successfully. Keith’s weight pulled the two forward, the Red Paladin’s feet scrambled to get a foothold.

“Me…too!” Pidge’s arms wrapped tightly around the other boy’s midriff. Though neither were particularly strong, their combined muscle was enough to halt their teammate’s fall. Leaning their full weights backwards, the two paladins hauled Keith back onto the demolished catwalk. They dragged the other boy’s body over the lip of concrete, only releasing their grip once he’d been tugged well clear of the abyss. Finally, the trio flopped onto their backs almost in sync, laying breathless amongst the rubble as distant cannon fire filled the silence.

“Ah…ugh…” Keith was at a loss for words, his brain still reeling from his brush with death. “Th–thank you…guys…”

“Don’t…mention it…”Lance wheezed back, his left hand flopping onto the half-Galran’s thigh in an exhausted attempt to comfort him.

The three teammates continued to lay in silence for several minutes, still shellshocked by the ordeal and utterly spent. Their much-earned timeout was interrupted, however, by the familiar chirping of Lance’s communicator.

“Guh…Hello?” Lance answered wearily, balancing the device on his chest.

“Where the heck are you!?!” Hunk yelled; the panic was evident on his face even in projected form. “Is Keith with you?! Pidge isn’t answering her comms either!”

“We’re both here,” Pidge replied, sitting up and scanning the debris around her. “...Ah, there it is.” The Green Paladin held up a slightly charred tangle of metal and wires – all that remained of her destroyed communicator.

“Oh, phew! Geez, we were so worried about you guys.” The Yellow Paladin dragged a hand through his bangs in relief. “Mind you, Coran might cry when he sees what happened to Pidge’s communicator, but we’ve got way bigger problems to worry about right now. Those tremors just now were the facility being blown half to bits!”

“We know !” Keith leaned into frame, gesturing to the gaping hole behind them.

“Oh quiznak.” Hunk gulped. “Where exactly are you guys right now then? Coran, Deltria and I are in the east wing, near the central research ward.”

“Well that’s where we were heading, but our only way there just kinda…disappeared.” Lance grumbled.

Hunk sighed heavily. “Things are pretty bad in the city right now…We need to get to our Lions.”

“We should try and get the turrets back online too…” Pidge mumbled, “Do we have any idea why they aren’t working?”

“I can answer that,” Deltria’s voice cut in, as she seemingly took control of Hunk’s communicator. The Yellow Paladin’s confused gasp could be heard in the background. “At this point, the most plausible assumption is that they’re utilizing some kind of jamming device. The turrets aren’t ‘broken’ per se, but they’re being remotely disabled somehow. It must be quite sophisticated; our attempts to override it have all been unsuccessful.”

“If they have that kind of tech…” Keith began hesitantly, “Should we be worried about the Castleship too?”

“The Castleship… ” Coran muttered ominously somewhere off-screen.

“It’s possible,” Deltria confirmed. “We don’t know what types of signals their jammer is capable of interfering with. Barriers or cloaking devices…any of it could be bypassed, in theory.”

“But that’s where our Lions are!” Lance exclaimed. “If Zarkon’s Army gets to them first…”

“What if they already have?” Pidge said, a wary flicker in her eye. “I’ve been trying to connect with Green since the city first went up in flames, but I’m still not able to reach her – I know we’re pretty far away right now, but what if that’s not the reason? What if the Lions have been taken?”

“…You’re right, I can’t sense Yellow right now either; not even a little.” Hunk sighed out of frame. “Do you think the jammer could be strong enough to shut down our Lions too?”

“Anything is possible at this stage.” Deltria affirmed. “The only way we’ll find out for sure is by going there – we should be able to take a hovercar from the east parking basement.”

“What’re we gonna do if the Lions are shut down though? Or worse, if they’ve been stolen?” Keith countered. “Right now, the jammer seems like the priority. Not to mention, the Castleship’s miles away. I’m not saying the Lions aren’t important, but who knows how much more damage their ships could do in the meantime.”

“Especially if they’ve taken over the Castle…” Lance agreed nervously. “We could be walking into a trap.”

“It seems like Team Coran’s best move may be to split up,” Coran declared, his head popping into frame. “Number Tw– sorry Hunk, you’re Number Three now – you’ve made this very confusing, Keith!”

“Hardly my fault!” Keith grimaced.

“So – Number Three, Galtria and I will take one of the hovercars to the Castleship and get a feel for the situation. The operation will be strictly reconnaissance until we can be sure that the Lions haven’t been compromised!”

“And I guess the three of us will find a way to deal with the jamming device,” Pidge concluded. “The only problem is, how are we going to get up there without our Lions?”

“There’s a security hangar not far from this facility,” Deltria supplied. “It should have a few fighters that you can pilot up to the warship. I can supply you with the authorization codes to access them.”

“Alright then, let’s do it,” Keith affirmed. “We’ll find a way to the hangar from here; call us on Lance’s communicator once you know what the situation is at the Castleship.”

Deltria talked the trio through the directions to the security hangar and gave them the access code before ending the group call. The corridor was now eerily quiet.

Keith rubbed his temples, his head still throbbing from the deafening explosions moments ago. Brushing the dust and rubble from himself, he rose wearily to his feet and peered over the edge of the gaping chasm that had replaced the eastern end of the catwalk. Mounds of concrete and metal rods were strewn all the way down the craggy hillside, which the facility had been built into.

“It’s a bit steep, but I think we can climb down from here,” Keith surmised. He turned back towards the two paladins, who were both slowly getting up as well.

“You think so?” Lance replied incredulously, as he looked down from beside the half-Galran. “It looks pretty dangerous.”

Keith nodded. “It’ll be fine – just do exactly what I do.” Bringing himself down to the ledge, Keith slowly twisted his body and lowered his left foot onto one of the stone slabs below. His hands gripped the broken floor above for support, and he then let his right foot drop onto another flat piece of debris, ending in a wide-gaited stance. The Blade leaned slowly backward, catching his weight on a bent rebar and pivoting his legs around it, hopping forward to the next level of rubble below.

“Um yeah, Keith…I can’t do that!” Lance yelled down the hole, shaking his head.

“Me neither!” Pidge gestured downwards. “Do you see these legs? I’m not built for parkour!”

“C’mon, it’ll be fine!” Keith replied dismissively. He leaned away from the rebar, extending his other hand as far forward as he could. “Here, I’ll help you.”

The two paladins shot each other a wary look, before Lance turned back to his boyfriend and sighed. “Alright…” he took a deep breath, slowly lowering his leg down into the pit. “Here I go!”

Lance dropped down onto the first concrete step, and the momentum sent him tumbling forward. Forced into uncontrollable motion, the Red Paladin barely managed to hop across each slab, thundering towards Keith at an increasing speed.

“I can’t stoooop!” He cried, slamming into the other boy.

Keith used his free arm to wrap around Lance’s body and drag him to a halt. “Oof – It’s fine, I’ve got you!” The Blade said, as the air was knocked out of his lungs. 

Lance gripped the fabric at Keith’s chest tightly, burying his face into the crook of the half-Galran’s neck. The taller boy’s face flushed at the sudden contact.

“Hah…hoo! Ugh...” Lance muttered incoherently, gradually loosening his death-grip. “I can’t do that again.”

“Well, we’re about…” Keith peered downwards. “…one tenth of the way there.”

“Wh–nuh-uh, I’m done! No way!” He shook his head vigorously.

“You can’t go back up from here,” Keith replied. “Down’s the only way.”

The Red Paladin gaped unblinking for a few moments, before contorting his face into a sharp pout. “…Ugh, fine! ”

Keith chuckled, squeezing his boyfriend’s shoulder gently. He guided the other boy to the rebar, before turning back up towards the catwalk’s edge. “Alright Pidge, your tur– …Pidge?”

The Green Paladin was nowhere to be seen. Keith looked about nervously for a moment, before he heard it – a footstep. Then another. The repetitive slap of feet on concrete, growing louder and louder until–

“Here I come!”

Keith barely had time to react before Pidge reappeared ten feet above them, soaring haphazardly through the air. Her expression was a mixture of determination and fear, and as they locked eyes, both of them knew – she’d way overshot her target.

The half-Galran wrapped his tail around the rebar, eliciting a sudden ‘ Eep! ’ from Lance, and flung himself backwards. His heels teetered on the edge of the concrete as he lunged upwards with both arms, just barely grappling around the airborne paladin and dragging her back to the platform.

“…I…take it back…” Keith huffed, planting the girl next to his boyfriend. “This…was a bad idea.”

“ Your bad idea.”

“Yeah Keith, your bad idea,” the two paladins snarked in unison.

“Why would you jump ?!?” The Blade exclaimed, pulling himself back upright by his tail.

“I couldn’t even reach the first slab!” Pidge threw her hands up dramatically, but then quickly grabbed back onto the rebar next to Lance. “How else was I supposed to get down here?!”

Keith pinched his nose; he wasn’t sure if his headache was from noise or frustration. Perhaps with more time and patience, Pidge and Lance would be able to manage the rest of the climb. Unfortunately, the Kalkaran capital was burning right in front of them, and they needed to make their way down, find a fighter ship and urgently sneak onto the warship that loomed overhead.

“We don’t have time for this right now; there’s only one thing for it…” Keith grumbled. “Pidge…get on my shoulders.”

The Green Paladin gawked openly. “Mr. Six-Foot-Seven? I don’t think so!”

“You gonna climb the rest of the way yourself then?” Keith folded his arms. “We need to get to the security hangar like now ; for every minute that we waste here, people die.”

“ Alright, geez!” Pidge relented. “Bend down then.”

Keith turned around and crouched in front of the smallest paladin. She gripped the Blade’s shoulders, flinging her leg over the top and sliding forward into position. With a slight hop, she awkwardly slung her other leg over Keith’s side – having used a little too much force, her heel dug into his chest.

“Careful!” Keith grunted, gently planting his hands over Pidge’s knees. He took a deep breath, then slowly heaved himself back upright. Pidge wobbled slightly, clapping her hands over either side of Keith’s head.

“Oh my god, I can see everything from up here,” the Green Paladin marveled. “Is this what being tall is like?”

Keith rolled his eyes, bouncing Pidge on his shoulders to adjust slightly. “C’mon, we’re moving.” He hopped onto the next flat piece of rubble, turning back and holding out his left hand – his right remained firmly affixed to his passenger’s leg.

Lance furrowed his brows nervously, reaching out to grasp Keith’s waiting palm. He squeezed it lightly as he took a large step forward, landing next to the other boy.

“See? Easy.” Keith hummed, repeating the process a few more times. As Lance became more confident, Keith simply led the way, looking back every now and then to ensure the Red Paladin was still a few metres behind them.

After walking in silence for a good ten minutes, Pidge finally spoke up from her pedestal. “I take back what I said, Keith,” she grinned, fiddling with the half-Galran’s pointed ears. “This was an excellent idea.”

“Tch…glad you’re enjoying it,” Keith grunted, jostling the Green Paladin slightly. “…and leave my ears alone! They’re not handlebars!”

“You sure?” Pidge chuckled, squeezing them like brakes.

Keith stopped, turning his head slightly to shoot her a glare.

Pidge merely cackled louder. “See, it worked!”

The half-Galran groaned, forcing himself to resist any further remarks to his passenger. Instead, he turned around again, checking on the brown-haired speck trailing behind them.

“Lance, you alright?” Keith called, noticing the other boy staring wistfully towards them. “You’ve been pretty quiet back there.”

“Hm? Y-yeah, I’m good!” The Red Paladin blushed, quickly pretending to be looking somewhere else.

Wait, was Lance… jealous?

“I know what you’re thinking,” the Green Paladin whispered. “And he definitely is.” She erupted with laughter once again.

Keith eyed the bottom of the slope desperately; he really couldn’t get there soon enough. Eventually though, after fifteen more minutes – or in Keith’s mind, an emotional eternity – they reached flat ground. The Blade abruptly hoisted Pidge from his shoulders, plonking her on the grass to mild protest.

Following Deltria’s directions, the trio walked for another few minutes before finally coming across the promised security hangar. Energetically, which was no surprise considering she’d piggybacked her way down there, Pidge jogged ahead to the entrance. Large, reflective black sheets of metal guarded the doorway imposingly, and the entire structure gave off a distinctly militarized feeling. Directly beside the building, one of the Kalaran’s turrets towered over them, unnervingly quiet as war continued to rage on around it.

Pidge effortlessly punched in the authorisation code, and the heavy onyx doors creaked open. Inside the deceptively large building were four fighters, stationed at the far back wall of the room. Taking a cautious step inside, Pidge scanned the interior for anything suspicious.

“Seems fine enough,” she called out, without turning to face the other two. With one hand in her jacket pocket, Pidge sauntered around the window-lit room, her eyes meticulously scanning over the strange alien tech as if trying to absorb it all. Making her way over to a cluttered workbench, she picked up a long metal prong attached to a winding cable.

“Whoa, what is that thing?” Lance exclaimed, bounding over to the other paladin with interest.

“No clue,” Pidge frowned. “It’s not turning on, see?” She pointed to the row of unlit lights along the base of the device’s handle.

“Hmm, there’s gotta be a power source around here somewhere…” Lance mused, wandering towards the opposite side of the room.

“Wh-hey, what do you guys think you’re doing?!” Keith shouted from the doorway, having barely stepped inside the hangar. “The fighters are over there; stop touching things!”

“Why does it matter? Nothing’s working anyway,” Pidge retorted, holding up a different, non-functioning Kalkaran tool.

“Literally nothing; the lights are busted too,” Lance added, flipping the switch next to him on and off for emphasis.

Keith glanced over to the fighters nervously. “You don’t think…?”

The trio ran to the back of the room where the four ships were parked. Keith ran his hand along one of the fighter’s doors, feeling for the latch. He flicked it back and forth, but the ship remained dormant.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Panic bubbling at the back of his skull, the half-Galran ran his hooked nails along the edge of the cockpit window; they scratched at the edges, searching for any sort of leverage. Catching the lip of the cockpit, Keith tugged as hard as he could. The metal bolts strained and groaned from the prying force, but just barely managed to remain fastened. Keith’s yellow eyes had become wide and manic. Releasing the glass, he instead slammed his fist into its surface. 

CLANG!

The pod vibrated from the impact. Keith pounded into it again, harder.

CLANGGG!!

A large, jagged crack spread across it, and he reared his knuckles back for a third strike–

“Keith, stop! ” Two delicate hands had wrapped themselves around the half-Galran’s wrist, pulling at it with determination.

Keith relaxed the jaw he didn’t even notice he’d been clenching, and lowered his arm with a stuttering jerk. He realised that his entire body was prickling with rage. Slowly, he opened his fist, his knuckles aching from the pent-up tension.

“I…I’m sorry,” Keith stammered, shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me…” He could still feel it stirring faintly in the pit of his stomach.

Something angry…

…Something primal.

“I’m…gonna get some air.” Keith brushed away Lance’s hands and slinked back to the hangar’s entrance. 

Lance bit his lip, his eyes flitting between his two companions. He watched anxiously as the Blade ducked out past the doorframe.

“…Well, go on!” Pidge commanded. Despite the commotion around her, she’d already managed to open an electronics panel on one of the other fighters using a screwdriver in her pocket. “Not like you can help much here anyway, sharpshooter. Go shoot your shot instead.”

“R–right.” Normally a comment like that would have sent Lance sputtering for a good comeback, but right now he didn’t have the energy for it. With a sigh, the Red Paladin strolled after his boyfriend, his head hanging low in trepidation.

Rounding the corner, he found Keith leaning against one of the thick black shutters. The Blade didn’t turn his head; he seemed mesmerized by something off in the distance.

Wordlessly, Lance slid up next to Keith, his arm brushing against him. He felt relieved when the other boy didn’t lean away from the contact.

“I’m sure this is…stating the obvious,” Keith began, his voice small and frail. “But I’ve never had good control over my temper.”

“Hmmm…” Lance smirked wryly. “Before we became closer, it was just about the only thing I knew about you.”

“Pfft, good to know my reputation at the Garrison preceded me,” Keith replied sardonically. With a deep breath, he tilted his head, resting it atop the shorter boy’s. “All that stuff Deltria said…about me, well, always being Galran…I feel like it explains a lot.”

Lance craned his neck up to press against Keith more firmly. “I thought it was half -Galran.”

“Does it matter?” Keith scoffed.

“That’s up to you,” Lance mused. “But I think it describes you far more accurately. A little hot-headed? That’s pretty Galran. But never knowing when to give up? I’d say that’s more of a human thing. And you’re honest to a fault, which definitely feels Galran.” He slid his palm down Keith’s forearm, threading their fingers gently together. “Soft hands…I wonder which side that comes from?”

Keith snorted. “But…” his smile dropped. “Hot-headed is one thing…I scared you in there.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. “…Maybe a little.” He absently drew small circles with his thumb along Keith’s gloved palm. “But you don’t have to completely shut down every time you lose your cool for a minute. You’re basically going through Galra-puberty right now; I can handle a little moodiness.”

“But I should be the one handling it.” Keith exhaled, savouring the feeling of Lance’s uncalloused fingertips and letting his eyes flutter closed. “I thought if I went out here for a bit, I could cool off…Y’know, instead of you always having to console me.”

“Hmm…then you’re already halfway there,” the Red Paladin hummed softly. “Seriously, just stop beating yourself up about this stuff all the time, yeah? If you say you’re gonna do better, then do it.” He raised Keith’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly.

“Ugh…fair point.” Keith’s gaze lifted again, back to the scorching skyscrapers in the distance. It was strange, the way large patches of light were completely blown out in some areas. They didn’t look damaged per se – rather, it reminded them of their own powerless predicament. “Hey…what was it again that Deltria said about the Capital’s power source?”

“Hm? What, you mean how like 80 percent of it’s powered by their fake quintessence?” Lance lifted his head slightly to look at the view more clearly.

“What do you think the other 20 percent is?”

Lance shrugged. “Electricity, probably? Why?”

“Would you say that looks like about 20 percent of the city’s power?” Keith pointed back to the skyline.

The Paladin locked eyes with the other boy. “…We have to tell Pidge!”

The pair raced back inside, finding the Green Paladin surrounded by the dismantled parts of a fighter. Her hair was wild and disheveled, like she’d been running frustrated hands through it far too frequently.

“The Galrans aren’t jamming the turrets,” Keith panted. “They’re jamming the quintessence .”

“Could that…be possible?” Pidge’s eyebrows scrunched into a deep furrow as she unwrapped the hypothesis. “Deltria said that nothing was physically wrong with the turrets…If we know anti-quintessence could deactivate the flow of energy, in theory…But then how did the lab still have power? Then again, for a facility that conducts sensitive experiments, having a backup generator makes sense…”

“But if you can back up the lab, why not back up the turrets?” Lance pondered.

“It might not be that simple,” Pidge replied. “If we assume that the turrets work similarly to, let’s say a blaster cannon, then the quintessence serves as both their power source and ammunition. You can’t just swap that out for electricity if it goes down.”

“So what about this hangar then? Everything’s powered by artificial quintessence?” Keith folded his arms in thought.

“Not everything…” A lightbulb seemed to go off behind the Green Paladin’s eyes. She kept to her feet, dashing towards the entrance.

Keith and Lance followed after her, stopping back by the hangar door again. Pidge was examining the authenticator pad from various angles, tipping her entire body sideways.

“A-ha!” She exclaimed, prodding the underside of the console. A panel popped open, and she waggled her finger at it knowingly. “This one’s battery.”

“Nice.” Lance nodded blankly. “…And what does that mean for us exactly?”

“It means that I should be able to get one of the fighters up and running,” Pidge beamed. “Aaand maybe add a few…modifications.”

“ Modifications? ” Keith’s eyebrow quirked.

He had a bad feeling about this…

Chapter Text

“Rock!”

Lance tossed a small pebble at the half-Galran from a few feet away.

Keith clenched his fists tightly. His tail whipped around from behind and swatted at the stone, just barely tipping it.

“Getting better!” Lance smiled, picking up another suitably-sized rock from the grassy patch in front of the hangar.

“Hmm,” Keith hummed in dissatisfaction. “My first instinct is still to grab it with my hand. I think that’s why my reactions are lagging. Anyway, again – rock!”

The Red Paladin threw another pebble towards the other boy. However, he didn’t see whether Keith actually hit this one – his gaze had instead drifted back to the security hangar’s thick metal doors.

Wonder how much longer Pidge is gonna be… Lance pondered silently. He and Keith had been sent outside almost an hour ago so that the Green Paladin could concentrate on her work, but there hadn’t been any updates. The sky was dark and thick with clouds, illuminated only by the glowing hull of the Galran warship. Lance’s eyes scanned above, trying to see how many enemy cruisers were circling around it, but his vision just couldn’t penetrate the blackness.

“–nce. Lance!”

“…Huh?” The Red Paladin was shaken from his daze.

“Rock?” Keith swished his tail expectantly.

“Ah, right…” Lance sighed to himself, reaching down for another pebble. His hand hovered there for a few moments, paused in thought. “Um, Keith…what exactly is the plan after Pidge fixes the fighter?”

“Fly up there, what else?” The Blade’s eyebrow quirked in confusion. “You…feeling ok? We can take a break from training if you want.”

“No, it’s fine…” Lance sighed. “I just…do you ever think, like, ‘what the hell am I doing in space fighting a bunch of furry lizard people’?”

Keith chuckled softly. “Is that what I look like to you? A furry lizard person?”

“Well…” Lance smirked, but quickly tempered his expression. “A–anyway, that wasn’t my point!”

“Heh, I know,” The half-Galran waved his hand, closing the gap between himself and the paladin. “It’s all because the Lions chose us, I guess. Blue chose you first, even.”

“And then swiftly abandoned me for Princess Allura,” Lance pouted. “I think it’s a better fit for the both of us, but still – we had armor made! Now everyone’s all mismatched!”

“You could try my old armor,” Keith teased. “It’s more likely to fit you than me at this point.”

“Ha-ha.” Lance fake-laughed. “I just wonder, y’know…what if you’d never been expelled from the Garrison? What if I’d just stayed in the cargo pilot track, studied hard, and lived a semi-normal life?”

“I mean the first part of that was never going to not happen. But disregarding that…” Keith took both of Lance’s hands, gently swinging them from side to side. “Is that really what you’d want? After all the amazing adventures we’ve been on?”

“I mean, of course not. I just don’t know if I’m…the right person for this job.”

“But Blue cho–“

“Blue chose me, I know!” Lance interrupted. “But I was just the first one to walk up to her! What do I really have that someone like Allura doesn’t? Being a pilot doesn’t count for much. You take away Voltron…” Lance’s eyes drifted up towards the looming warship. “…I just don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

Keith’s swaying arms halted; he gripped the Red Paladin’s hands tighter. “Why are you being so down on yourself all of a sudden? You’re so much more than a Paladin of Voltron. You’re a great shot, you always keep a cool head in a crisis, and you’re a quick thinker!” The Blade’s eyes bored into Lance’s. “What about when we fought Prozak, huh? You think I had the skill or brainpower to take him down one-on-one? You’re the one who got us out of there alive – all I did was crouch down at the right time before passing the fuck out.”

Lance took in a shuddering breath. “I…I’m just…” His voice dwindled down to a whisper. “I’m so scared, Keith. Going up there in Pidge’s modded cruiser…it feels like a suicide mission.” Tears pricked at the corners of his vision. Without releasing his hold on the other boy’s hand, he gently dabbed at them with the back of his wrist.

“Don’t say that,” Keith frowned. He wanted to promise Lance that everything would be ok, that they’d battle their way through the Galran fleet and save Kalkara…but he couldn’t. The only thing that he could promise was… “I’d die before I let anything happen to you.”

Lance’s bottom lip quivered, until finally his emotions spilled over. He slammed his head into Keith’s chest, each unbridled sob making his shoulders quake.

The half-Galran wordlessly wrapped his arms around Lance and stroked his fingers through the brunette’s soft hair, comforting him as best as he could.

He could understand his boyfriend’s fear. The Paladins of Voltron were at their strongest together – of course they were. But with Shiro and Allura off on their own peacekeeping mission, they were already down two Lions. They couldn’t form Voltron. And with the uncertain situation at the Castleship, they couldn’t rely on their remaining Lions either…it was just them. And what hope did a few humans and a hybrid stand against the Galran Empire?

But…that was never what being a Paladin of Voltron was about. Even Keith, who’d stepped down from his post, knew that much – they were hope. And when they put their minds together, with or without their Lions, they were unstoppable.

Licking his lips carefully, Keith finally broke the silence. “Maybe that’s…all being a hero is; being in the right place at the right time.”

Lance sniffed, not looking up.

“So you’ve never been top of your class. So what? You’ve saved so many people’s lives, Lance. You’re a hero.”

“…That girl at the clothing shop seemed to think so, huh.” Lance croaked, his voice muffled by Keith’s shirt.

“ Exactly ,” the half-Galran agreed, having no idea who Lance was talking about. “It’s not about being worthy enough. You’ve come this far – you’re enough.”

Finally, the Red Paladin lifted his face from the other boy’s shirt, still blotchy from crying. The fabric clung to him from the lingering dampness. “You think so?”

“I do,” Keith ruffled Lance’s bangs, unsticking them from his reddened cheeks. “We all do.”

“He’s right,” Pidge seconded, materialising next to them suddenly.

“A–ah!” Keith jolted.

“Hello to you too,” She smirked. “And uh…sorry to interrupt.”

“Ahh, it’s okay!” Lance sniffled, jerking around to face the Green Paladin. “Well I mean, kind of embarrassing, but whatever!”

“You should be embarrassed! Imagine being chosen by two Lions and still not thinking you’re worthy,” Pidge shook her head. “Utterly unbelievable, right Keith?”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not taking sides,” He held up his hands defensively. “Besides, who knows what the Lions are thinking when they choose us…” Keith mused over the fact that he too had been chosen twice.

“You want unbelievable?” Lance smiled, wiping away the last of his tears. “Keith let me call him a furry lizard person! He barely even reacted.”

Pidge mock-gasped. “That’s growth, Keith.”

“Shut upppp,” he whined. “I assume you didn’t just come out here to roast us?”

“And if I did?” The shorter paladin gave a sly grin. “..But no; what I came out to say is that the cruiser is finally ready! I’d dare say it’s some of my best work – you’re gonna love it!”

“Oh, great!” Lance cheered, but Keith could still hear the lingering apprehension in his voice. “Let’s go check it out!”

The brunette strolled ahead to the hangar, his fists still balled up tautly at his sides as he tried to suppress his nerves. The other two teammates followed, trailing slowly behind.

“That was good timing,” Keith spoke to Pidge in a low voice. “…How long were you actually standing there?”

“Only a few minutes,” she whispered. “Seemed like you still had some things to talk through.”

“Well thanks…but I’m glad you were there to cheer him up.”

“Hey, couldn’t have done it without you! It’s the 1-2 sympathy-comedy punch. Knocks ‘em out every time.” Pidge gave the half-Galran’s arm a playful jab, before her expression flattened. “…I’m sure you might have already guessed, but I won’t be coming with you.”

“No,” Keith scowled. “What do you mean you’re not coming?”

“There were only enough parts for one cruiser, and even the two of you in there is gonna be a squeeze!” She sighed. “You were right about everything you told Lance, you know. He doesn’t give himself enough credit, but he’s someone you can really count on in a pinch. We all have our own strengths – that’s why I’m going to try and get this turret working while you’re gone.”

Keith nodded, understanding there wasn’t much sense pushing the topic. Wonder how Lance is going to take it… he thought to himself, already knowing the answer. He grimaced slightly.

“Are you guys coming or what?!” Lance yelled from the back of the hangar.

 “Yeah, yeah!” Pidge batted her hand dismissively, jogging towards the brunette.

Keith trailed behind, watching Pidge make her way up to the side of the ship. She flicked a switch by the cruiser door, and the glass pod popped open. She beckoned the two boys to take a closer look inside.

“So first of all – we have power!” Pidge exclaimed, pushing the ignition switch at the bottom of the ship’s console. 

The soft woosh of an engine could be heard, and the dashboard blipped to life. The displays were far more rudimentary than the Lions’, but comparable to the ships they were used to piloting back at the Garrison.

 “Okay, so you’ve got your navigation controls here, thrusters, brakes – very important – this panel here’s your radar,” Pidge’s finger darted about, pointing at each feature as she listed them.

Keith’s eyes stalked each gesture, committing the information to memory. He cast a cursory glance towards Lance, and swore he saw his eyes cross.

“–And now for the fun stuff!” Pidge cracked her knuckles, before lifting the cover on an extra panel that had been hastily welded onto the main controls. “So I found this fun little gizmo on a shelf over there – with a few tweaks, it turned out perfect for making a radar cloaking device!”

“A whaty-what device?” Lance squinted at the console.

“Lance did you…learn anything at the Garrison?” Pidge raised a judging eyebrow. 

“O-of course I did!” He sputtered. “I…I was probably just sick that day!!”

“ Anyway…” She continued. “…it distorts the electromagnetic waves that are sent out by radar scans, essentially making you invisible to the enemy. The Galrans wanna use a jammer? Then we’ll use one of our own!”

“Nice,” Keith grinned. “But it only hides our presences on radars, right? We won’t be completely invisible?”

“That’s right – you’ll have to rely on some of that cloud cover up there.” Pidge affirmed. “But supposing things go well and you remain undetected, that’s where modification number two comes in!”

The Green Paladin toggled a switch on the makeshift panel, and a high-pitched buzzing sound rippled through Keith’s head.

“Ow, what the hell is that?!” He grunted, using his fingers to plug both ears.

“Oops, can you hear it? Sorry!” Pidge hastily turned the device off again. “Well anyway, I removed the plasma cannon and installed a hijacker. It should have enough range to let you take control of the warship’s external access doors, so that you can board undetected. You can also use it to disrupt communications between enemy cruisers, which might be handy if someone spots you out there.”

“I mean that all sounds useful and all, but you removed the plasma cannon?” Lance moaned. “What if we get attacked?!”

“It’s a stealth mission, Lance,” Keith retorted. “The idea is to just not be attacked.”

“Yeah, you’ve still got a laser cannon if you’re in a pinch, but ideally you won’t be forced to use it,” Pidge agreed. “The Kalkarans haven’t been able to mobilize any of their ships because of the jammer, so the Galrans will be more focused on shooting at the city than you.”

Lance frowned, not entirely convinced, but didn’t argue the point any further. “Fine. Then I guess the other thing we’ll need is some armor.”

“Way ahead of you,” Pidge smiled, pulling out some plated suits from behind the pilot’s seat. 

They were thick, black and slightly rubbery, though a little less streamlined than their paladin armor was. Knowing they’d come from the hangar, the suits looked appropriately tactical. Lance and Keith took them from the smaller brunette, examining them more closely.

“Oh Keith, I think you’ll like it !” Lance sing-songed, holding up the back of his outfit.

There was a zipper on the lower-back, clearly intended for extra appendages. …A tail zipper.

An exasperated flush rose to Keith’s cheeks. “Yeah. Great.”

Still smiling, the Red Paladin looked side-to-side at his teammates, then down at the suit in his hands again. “Right, well! Uh…I’m gonna go find somewhere to change!” He exclaimed, scuttling off behind one of the other ships.

After waiting until his boyfriend was completely out of earshot, he turned to the Green Paladin. “…You have to tell him that you’re not coming.”

“Why? He can figure it out.” Pidge shrugged.

“Yeah, but he won’t.” Keith retorted.

The shorter paladin silently glared at him.

“The ship looks great, you know. You did a really great job.”

“… Fiiiiine, I’ll tell him.” Pidge threw up her arms in defeat. “Now go get changed or whatever, suck-up!”

Keith snickered under his breath, slinging his suit over one shoulder as he wandered behind the fighters. With the hangar doors permanently agape, there was a slight chill to the air. The Blade didn’t know what the time was exactly, but it had to be well past midnight by now.

“AHHHHH! Don’t look!!!” Lance shrieked, attempting to shield his bare torso with his hands.

Keith turned bright scarlet, but did as he was told and quickly clamped both hands over his eyes. He’d stumbled upon the brunette’s changing spot without realizing.

“Oh, sorry…” Lance said sheepishly. “I thought you were Pidge.”

Keith felt slender hands grasp his own, gently tugging them away from his face. His eyelids fluttered open, finding himself suddenly inches from Lance’s sun-kissed cheeks.

“I don’t mind if… you look.” Lance whispered breathily. His glossy eyes looked even bluer in the moonlight.

Steam was practically shooting from Keith’s ears. His jittering gaze panned downwards over Lance’s prominent collarbones. Oh my god… It raked down his rich bronze shoulders, tracing each tiny freckle. He’s so…so… It continued further down to his narrow chest, rising and falling gently with each breath, across his toned abdominals. A mole!! There’s a mole below his belly button!

“Um…Keith?”

The half-Galran’s brain short-circuited. He crashed his lips into Lance’s, hands snaking needily behind the boy’s neck to pull himself closer, deeper.

Lance gasped softly, and then melted into the touch. He hungrily sucked at Keith’s lower lip, his jaw bobbing rhythmically with each kiss.

Keith’s hands slipped down the brunette’s shoulders, his sharp nails trailing over each gentle curve. He felt a soft puff of air against his mouth, Lance giggling at the feathery ministrations. His broad palms ghosted along the slight jut of Lance’s hips, and the shorter boy leaned into him, swallowing the elicited moan with a teasing press of his tongue. Keith nudged his chin forward, inviting the incursion – he felt an exploratory lick of his jagged teeth; tasted warm, honey-like sweetness. His hands trailed lower, brushing against something hard…and metallic?

“M-ah! My bayard!” Lance gave a whispered yelp, failing to catch it as it clattered loudly onto the floor.

“ Why is your bayard here?!” Keith hissed, jerking himself back upright.

“ It was in my pocket! It’s always in my pocket!” Lance grumbled, bending down to retrieve it. He stood up again, locking eyes with the half-Galran.

They glared at each other in complete silence, neither moving an inch. Both of their faces burned hotly.

“…I’m gonna finish changing.”

“I’m gonna go get changed.”

They blurted out in tandem. Keith pivoted and stomped away to the other side of the hangar, while Lance reached down and shimmied his suit up over his torso.

The half-Galran let out an internal scream. He was happy and anxious and smitten and pissed off all at the same time. Keith violently yanked off his t-shirt, balled it up and threw it to the ground with a weak slap. He squirmed out of his trousers, tugging his boots off along with them.

Deep breath.

He felt his skin prickle in the cold night air. A fuzzy feeling swirled languidly in the pit of his stomach. Keith squeezed the suit in his hands, bringing his fist up to brush against his lips – they were still tingling. The fuzzy feeling flared up pleasantly. Of course he was sad that the moment was cut short. But the warm buzz Keith was feeling made that part feel small. Insignificant. 

That was…incredible.

Humming softly to himself, Keith finished changing and returned to the modified fighter where Pidge was waiting for them both.

“Geez, took you long enough!” Pidge crossed her arms impatiently. “And where the heck is Lance?”

“Here!! I’m here!” He puffed, looking slightly more disheveled than when he left. He seemed to be struggling with his breastplate as he talked. “Wait…ugh– Pidge, where’s y– where’s your suit?”

Keith wandered over to the Red Paladin to fix his armor.

“I don’t need one,” she replied curtly. “Only you and Keith are going.”

“HUH?!” Lance shouted, completely ignoring the purple hands fixing his buckles. “What do you mean you’re not going?!”

“Stay still.” Keith mumbled.

“Exactly that. There were only enough parts here to fix one of the fighters, and they’re technically only meant for a single passenger.”

“Oh, so you’ve just nominated Keith and I, is that it?” Lance jerked, tugging one of the armor straps with him.

“Stay still.”

Lance ignored the half-Galran. “We’re already down four people; I thought at least the three of us were gonna stick together!”

“Don’t you think I feel guilty enough already?” Pidge snarled. “The ship is too small – I’m not just making that up to get out of the mission, Lance! I know I’m the weakest at hand-to-hand combat. Level 3 of the Castleship’s training bot? Come on.”

“Even if you were the strongest, I would have volunteered to go. But it still would have been nice to be asked!”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t want to!” Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Just forget it, ok? I’m gonna get the fighter ready.”

With that, the Green Paladin turned around and began fidgeting with the ship’s control panel.

Keith did up the last buckle on Lance’s breastplate just in time, as the Red Paladin pivoted sharply and walked off in the other direction. He sighed – maybe this was his fault for making Pidge talk in the first place. The Blade trailed after the other boy, watching him browse through one of the supply shelves in feigned interest.

“…And just when I was finally feeling a little better.” Lance muttered to himself. He picked up several things at random, stuffing them into his belt pouch.

“Didn’t know you were such a kleptomaniac,” Keith prodded the brunette in the back gently.

“Ah!” Lance jolted, dropping one of the curious-looking objects onto the floor. “Why’re you creeping up on me like that?”

“Didn’t mean to,” Keith held up his hands in innocence. “You alright?”

“Yeah…I’m fine.” The Red Paladin replied with a deep exhale. “I’m just ready to leave, I guess. The more we sit around, the more stressed it’s making me feel.”

Keith stroked the back of Lance’s hair. “You’re not the only one.”

“Really? You don’t look ver– oh, you meant Pidge.” Lance rolled his eyes. “What can I say? She just built a damn spaceship for us. I just feel like…she thinks I’m too stupid to tell stuff sometimes? Or she just thinks it’s too much of a hassle to even try?”

Keith glanced over to the Green Paladin, who seemed to be closing up the last panel of the fighter’s hull.

“I mean it’s whatever…I’ll be mad about it for a bit, but we’ll be good again in a few days. Probably.” Lance slumped his shoulders, starting to head back towards the ship.

Keith tugged Lance’s wrist back. “You should at least say a proper goodbye, even if you’re not really feeling it. You’ll…regret it if you don’t.” The Blade remembered his own discreet departure from his fellow Paladins. He’d come downstairs one morning with his rucksack already packed; he’d tried to sneak out of the hangar, but awkwardly ran into the others on their way to breakfast.

Lance could feel the earnestness of Keith’s words by the taut grip on his arm. “…Yeah, ok.”

Satisfied, he released the brunette. The two boys made their way back to the fighter, which had already been lowered to the runway strip in preparation for take off.

“Alright, I guess this is it then. You ready?” Pidge only made eye contact with Keith as she spoke.

“As we’ll ever be,” the half-Galran replied plainly.

Now the larger of the two, Keith climbed into the cockpit first, shifting the seat as far back as it would go and parting his knees to make room. Lance gingerly stepped in after him, squeezing himself between the other boy’s legs – Keith shook away the slight flush that rose to his cheeks. He stretched the seatbelt awkwardly over the two of them, pulling it as tautly as possible without sandwiching their bodies completely together…that would be far too much right now.

Pidge leaned over the edge of the pod awkwardly, running Keith through the controls one more time. Then, with nothing else left to do, it was finally time for the boys to depart. She leaned upright, an awkward silence lingering over the trio. Finally, the shorter paladin spoke up. “…Anyway. You’ve got Lance’s communicator, so keep in touch with Hunk and Coran if you can. I’ll be here working on the turret.”

“Got it,” Keith nodded.

“Th–thanks, Pidge. And um…” Lance struggled to get his words out. “…Stay safe, ok?”

The Green Paladin’s eyes became suddenly glassy, and she stared long and hard at the both of them. “Yeah, y–you too! Please…just, make it back in one piece.” She smiled, but her brow was twisted in pain.

“Of course!” Lance grinned back, but Keith could feel him shift his hips nervously.

Nobody wanted to say it aloud…but they were all just hoping to make it back alive.

Pidge closed the cockpit glass with a firm slam, then took a few steps back before shooting Keith a thumbs-up. The Blade slowly engaged the throttle, rolling the ship forward steadily. The fighter began to build up speed, and Lance’s knees started to knock against Keith’s own with the slight turbulence.

As the ship reached the entrance to the hangar, Keith pulled back hard on the steering controls to tilt their nose, and switched on the thrusters. The sleek black fighter roared into the air, rapidly climbing in altitude. The pressure stabilisers were working effectively, but the way that the entire spacecraft shook made the half-Galran feel dizzy. For all of the Kalkarans’ advanced technology, he was surprised at the less-than-comfortable ascent, though he suspected that Pidge’s modifications may have also had something to do with it.

The fighter soared higher and higher, the deep rumble of the engine slowly petering out as Keith levelled the ship. He steered them just below the lowest-hanging clouds, eyeing the Galran fleet ahead. The sky steadily thrummed with cannon fire, each shot echoing like a clap of thunder. With a deep breath, Keith flicked on the switch for the radar jammer – he really hoped it actually worked.

“Oof, I’ve been far too spoiled by the Lions recently,” Lance whined, rubbing his legs sorely.

Keith hummed in agreement, rolling the ache from his shoulders. “It looks like most of the cruisers are facing east; if we approach the warship from the rear, that’ll hopefully keep us out of their line of sight.”

“Over there!” Lance pointed at a particularly dense and darkly-coloured nimbostratus. “That cloud stretches at least a good two-thirds of the way. If we fly under it, we should be able to get to the warship unnoticed.”

“Or through it,” Keith corrected, easing the fighter west towards the thick sea of grey. They swooped into the cloud cover, the entire pod blanketed in darkness.

Lance’s eyes scanned the glass surrounding them anxiously. “Are you gonna be alright navigating like this…?”

“Sure,” Keith replied, tapping the radar display. Several blips were scattered around them; the tremendous Galran cruisers reduced to mere dots on a screen.

They flew in uneasy silence for several minutes that seemed to pass like hours, the stuttered drumming of Lance’s pulse easily apparent to the half-Galran’s heightened senses. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The brunette’s knee bounced with nerves. Keith abruptly slammed his hand down onto it.

“ Relax.” He practically insisted.

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled. “Can’t help it.”

“Let’s make a plan then,” Keith replied, hoping to distract the other boy from his troubled thoughts. “So, we’re flying up to the warship’s hangar bay. Pidge’s hijacker should let us override the door controls so that we can land.”

“Surely the Galra will notice that, though,” Lance mused. “That whole ship’s gotta be armed to the teeth.”

“Mmhmm,” Keith concurred. “Which is why we need to be ready to jump out and incapacitate whoever’s guarding the bay. The hijacker will stop them from using the external comms system, but if one of them uses an internal line and gets word out that we’ve snuck on board, it’s game over.”

“Heh…so no pressure,” Lance scoffed wryly. “But ok, let’s say we take out all the guards. Then we need to find whatever’s jamming Kalkara’s quintessence and shut it down somehow. Last time, I had that hacking device from Pidge that did all the heavy lifting, but I don’t think either of us are smart enough to crack it on our own.”

“That time was different though,” Keith corrected, his arm brushing against the Red Paladin’s as he banked slightly left. “We had to reroute the cargo fleet, so the machine had to be operable. This time, however…”

“Ohhh, so it’s a smashy-smashy scenario then?”

“Yep, smashy-shashy,” the Blade echoed in agreement. “…Ah, shit!” He suddenly veered the fighter straight down, sending Lance tumbling into his chest.

The clouds just ahead of them parted, revealing the colossal hull of a cruiser barely inches above them; close enough to hear the way it creaked and groaned with each blast from its cannon.

“Keeithhh!” Lance whined, using the half-Galran’s thighs to leverage himself back upright.

“Sorry, sorry! I got distracted…” he sighed, rubbing the cold sweat from his face. “W–we’re almost there now, it’s fine.”

Lance’s expression was still incredulous, but he turned back around in silence as they finally exited their cloud cover. There was little relief from the darkness however, as the great warship’s shadow loomed over them with menace. The angular metal beast was speckled with neon lights; they blinked slowly, like a resting pulse. 

Scanning down the curve of the hull, Keith spied the telltale lipped edges of a door. With a gentle hand, he glided the fighter forward, his head pivoting about on the lookout for any spotters nearby. “…You ready?”

Lance gave a firm nod, reaching forward to flip the scrambler switch. Keith winced slightly at the high-pitched keen of the machine, but continued coasting carefully towards the hangar bay. The Red Paladin twisted one of the knobs on the modified control panel, then pressed a button.

…Silence.

“…Please don’t tell me the scrambler doesn’t wo–“

VVVVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRRR!

With a slight delay, the hulking metallic panes began stuttering open. Keith’s own heart stuttered along with it, his knuckles clenched white around the fighter’s steering. Lance’s hand squeezed his thigh for reassurance.

The hangar bay yawned into view, and several yellow eyes suddenly beamed back at them.

The half-Galran gulped. “Well…here goes nothing!”

Keith increased the throttle to full power and cut the thrusters, sending the ship careening into the hangar bay. Sparks sprayed in every direction, and the harsh scrape of metal-on-metal made the half-Galran grit his teeth painfully. The seatbelt did its job, whipping tight around the two boys and slamming them back into the pilot seat. The dreadful crunch of bone could be heard coming from the Galran soldier crushed beneath the fighter.

The entire cockpit had gone dark; no doubt that their stunt had done irreparable damage to it. With no power to open the pod, Lance pushed both palms against the glass, groaning futilely as it failed to budge.

Keith slid down lower in his chair, rearing up both legs and slamming the backs of his heels into the glass. He did it again. And again.

Finally, the pod released with a resounding pop and flung itself open, thanks to the force of Keith’s final kick. He fumbled with the seat buckle, releasing it like a heavy breath, and flopped over the side of the ship. The Blade heard the dull thud of Lance sliding clumsily out of the cockpit behind him. 

Unfortunately for the two boys, there was no respite; the four remaining Galra were already on top of them. Keith crawled to his feet, scrambling for the knife at his waist. The closest Galran soldier immediately lunged towards him, swinging his scimitar with lethal force. Keith barely managed to block it, unsheathing his dagger and swinging it up defensively in one fluid motion. The sharp clang tremored through his entire body, and it took all of the Blade’s strength to keep a hold of his weapon.

“Step back!” Lance yelled from the other side of the fighter. 

Keith managed to leap backwards just in time, as a blue bolt of energy collided with his Galran foe. The acrid scent of burning flesh pierced Keith’s nostrils, and he held a hand to his face reactively, watching his wounded opponent crumple to the floor. The half-Galran quickly took the moment of reprieve to scan the room; there was the soldier on the floor, one under their ship, two near the door, and one…

“By the comms– Ugh!” Lance grunted. There was a sharp ping as the Red Paladin reflected a shot with his rifle.

“Got it!” Keith affirmed, aiming his dagger at the communicator mounted on the wall. His arm swung forward, hurling the blade through the air and hitting–

“Argh!”

–the nearby Galran sentry instead. Not his intended target, but it worked all the same. Now down a weapon, however, Keith skidded behind the fighter and met Lance with his back.

“Hey, you got any more knives in your bag?” The half-Galran whispered over his shoulder.

“Wh–what happened to yours?” The brunette replied, punctuating his sentence with a blast from his gun. It sizzled against the back wall, missing the Galran marksman.

“Did you not just see me skewer that guy?” Keith pouted. It really had been an impressive throw.

“Try the–ah! Try the dude on the floor!” Lance replied, clearly a little too distracted to be impressed.

Keith sighed, crouching down next to the ship. Wedged beneath one of the wing flaps was arguably the largest of the five Galrans in the hangar bay; the muscular arm that poked out from underneath was almost the size of Lance’s torso. Thank god this is the one we ran over, the Blade thought to himself. Using both hands, he lifted the gargantuan limb, hauling it to one side, and rummaged around the guard’s suit. Unfortunately, there weren’t any obvious pockets or holsters that might contain a weapon. As he continued digging around, however, he felt a sudden brush against his tail.

“Heh, haven’t seen a Galra with one of these in a while,” a voice from behind scoffed. 

Before Keith could turn around, he felt a strong hand grip his tail tightly and pull; his entire body was hauled backwards and flung through the air. He swung back down like a pendulum, pounding his back into the floor hard enough to dent it. The half-Galran winced as white hot needles prickled down his spine, bolts of pain shooting through him in sync with his pulse . A steel-toed boot swung towards him, digging itself deep into his gut. Keith coughed, the air in his lungs kicked clean out of him.

… Move. He commanded his body. It gasped feebly, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. …Move! Keith rolled onto his hands and knees, still drawing in only shallow breaths. The same hands from earlier grasped the scruff of his neck, yanking him to his feet. Instead of letting go, however, they slammed the half-Galran back down into the fighter. It was all Keith could do to shield his head as the enemy soldier pounded him against the ship’s hull over and over, the dark red smear beneath him growing larger with each strike.

“Feh, I thought you’d be a lot more interesting,” the Galran muttered, finally relenting and flipping Keith onto his back. He pulled a long blade from his leg holster and pressed it against the boy’s throat. “Any last words?”

Keith hocked in the back of his throat, pursing his lips to one side as he spat out a mouthful of blood. “…You…snuck up on me from behind…” His yellow eyes bulged dangerously. “…smart idea.”

A long appendage whipped out of nowhere, wrapping itself around the Galran’s face. Caught off-guard, he staggered away from Keith, his free hand grasping at the tail angrily. The Blade seized the opening, pouncing forward and grabbing the soldier by his wrists. He threw his entire weight forward, pushing his foe to the floor and landing on top of him. Keith’s fierce grip kept the Galra pinned, as the thick muscles of his tail constricted around the other’s neck. He writhed desperately as the limb squirmed and oscillated, choking him. The Galran’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his protests became weaker…and weaker…

…until he stopped moving altogether.

Keith’s brain suddenly felt as though it was a thousand miles away, his senses all muffled and wrong. The sizzle of gunfire around him became nothing more than static. Lance’s yelling, a mere whisper.

“Y…ge…sh…do…n..!!”

A hand deftly gripped his scalp, pushing him flat against the motionless body. Another weight pressed into his back, sandwiching Keith between the two, mere seconds before a purple spark of energy fizzed overhead and jolted him from his stupor.

“I said get down!!” Lance hissed, lifting himself off of the half-Galran. “C’mon, this way!” He led Keith to the rear of the fighter, which had started giving off white smoke – it was clear they wouldn’t be leaving the warship the same way they entered.

Keith cautiously peeked over the tail of the ship, trying to get a better look at the final Galran soldier, when another shot pinged right next to his face. “Shit!” He grunted, ducking back down again.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Lance huffed.

“Just trying to get a feel for the guy,” Keith pouted, his head creeping slowly upwards.

“Stop!” Lance tugged him down. “He’s a good shot, and patient, too. He always fires before I can line up my aim, so we’ve basically been playing chicken for the last ten minutes. I just can’t get an opening!”

Abruptly, the Galran whistled; sharp and shrill, like one would use to beckon a dog. “Come on now, you two. I’m not like Zaru there; I think you’re both pretty impressive!” The boys heard the mechanical cock of a gun. “That’s the ylssar you just strangled, by the way. But all this hiding’s getting a little stale, don’t you think?”

Lance was right…this guy was trouble. He had them trapped behind the fighter, and Lance was the only one with a weapon right now.

“Uh…Keith?” The Red Paladin interrupted his train of thought. “I think we have…another problem…” he pointed at the now-billowing fumes that were leaking out of the ship. They smelled sour, like gasoline.

“No, not a problem…” Inspiration glittered behind Keith’s eyes; he pried open the metal panel covering the smoke’s source. Now uninhibited, the white gas spilled from the exposed engine, which was dripping fuel. “…A solution!”

Lance leapt backwards, just barely missed by the blast that skimmed past his head. “Are you insane?! That thing could blow any second!”

“Exactly,” Keith grinned, unperturbed. “That’d make for one hell of an opening, huh?” The half-Galran shook his gloved hands, as if psyching himself up, before diving both arms into the ship’s internal chamber. He tugged the motor from its socket, a tangle of wires dragged along with it, and shot Lance an expectant look. “If he doesn’t go for it, you gotta shoot this thing before it comes back down, alright?”

“Wait, what d–oh you’re throwing it right now!” The Red Paladin stammered, watching the engine module fly through the air and over the front of the fighter. He barely had time to duck as the Galran soldier shot it reactively, just as Keith had predicted.

The damaged component combusted from the hit, shaking the entire hangar bay. The shockwave hurled the boys several feet back and slammed them into the door. Luckily it had long since closed itself, or they’d both have been plummeting through the sky right about now. Shrapnel from the fighter was showered over the entire room; jagged pieces of glass and metal ricocheted off the walls, floor and ceiling, and Lance yelped as a small fragment nicked his cheek.

As the chaos finally settled, the only lingering sound was the hiss of white smoke, which still bubbled feebly from the scorched remnant of the engine. Keith peeled himself off the back wall of the hangar bay with a dry cough. He may have underestimated just how big that explosion was going to be, but there wasn’t time to dwell on the fact. He cautiously craned his neck, trying to scope out what had happened to their foe.

“…Ah.” He bit his tongue. The Galran was slumped over motionless, the splattering of blood and debris surrounding him a clear enough message that their battle had ended at last. Keith rubbed his hands together uncomfortably; the heat from the engine had melted holes through the rubbery fabric.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhh?!!” Lance cried out in a very confusing lilt. “Oh thank god, you scared the life out of me for a second there.” The Red Paladin gestured at something on Keith’s back.

The half-Galran turned, noticing a large fragment of steel embedded deep in his armor. It stuck straight out, like a strange and slightly-off-centre dorsal fin; Keith suddenly felt very thankful to have not been skewered by it. “Oh wow…shit,” he laughed awkwardly, unclipping his chest plate and discarding on the floor. He brushed himself off, gingerly stepping towards the centre of the room. The tension on his shoulders finally lifted, even if only slightly – they had made it on board the Galran warship. Sure, not everything had gone the way he and Lance had planned it, but they were here .

The brunette’s footsteps slowly paced behind him, until Lance finally reached his side. “Well…we’re alive and mostly uninjured, somehow.” He reached down and squeezed Keith’s hand comfortingly. “What do we do now?”

“Good question,” the Blade scoffed. “I think we kinda skipped over this part while we were brainstorming in the fighter.”

Lance smiled, shaking his head softly. “Guess everything so far has been pretty ad hoc; may as well keep rolling with it.” He walked further forward, staring at the charred dent in the floor from the earlier explosion. “You know, that blast was pretty loud. Do you think anyone heard i–“

Pip-pip-pip-pip! Pip-pip-pip-pip!

The communicator on the wall chirped impatiently, affirming Lance’s question. The two boys shot panicked glares at each other.

“What do we do?!” Keith hissed.

“Answer it!!” Lance replied through gritted teeth.

“Me?! Why me?!” 

The Red Paladin pushed against his boyfriend’s arms urgently. “You…you sound more Galran than me!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!!” Keith protested as his hand was guided to the console.

“Whatever, just do it!!”

“Stop it, I’m not going t–H-hello?” The half-Galran scowled as a handset was forcefully pressed to his face.

“This is comms officer Xamia. We’ve just had reports of a loud noise coming from Hanger Bay Vida, and logs show unauthorised use of an external door. Who am I speaking with? And what is your status?”

If looks could kill, Keith would have utterly destroyed Lance about eight times over. With little choice, however, his mind scrambled to respond.

“Yes, a–affirmative. This is…”

The brunette was frantically mouthing something…Zuh…Zah…ru? Zero? No, Zulu? He pointed furiously at the Galra Keith had strangled earlier.

“This is Zur–ZARU. This is Zaru. We had an uh…an incident in the hangar, but everything is under control.”

“…Officer Zaru, thank you for your response. However, could you please elaborate on this incident you speak of? If you should require backup, I’d be happy to mobilise th–“

“No need!” Keith interrupted. “It was an enemy ship that breached the door. They uh…must have had some kind of scrambling device. The door just opened by itself!”

Lance mimed a finger dragging across his throat, and stuck out his tongue.

“But backup isn’t necessary; we’ve already dealt with them.”

“I see,” Xamia paused. “Was it a Kalkaran unit? Commander Tharys will want to know if the jammer isn’t grounding their ships as we expected.”

Lance made a big ‘X’ with his arms.

“N–no, it was…”

He pointed at himself, circling his face with a finger. 

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “It was…”

He held both hands up, pressing the backs against his forehead …Cat ears? With his finger again, he drew the letter ‘V’ on his chest.

“Ah–!” The Blade stifled a gasp. “…It was Paladin of Voltron.”

Chapter Text

“…Yes…Yes, of course…Understood. I’ll bring him to the holding cells immediately.” Keith concluded his call on the comms unit, returning the handset.

“…Well?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds like they bought it.” Keith gave a half-hearted sneer. “Congratulations! You’re a hostage.” 

“Nice! I mean, not that part–“ the Red Paladin crossed his arms. “–nice that they totally bought your Zaru act! With a performance like that, let’s just say that there’s definitely room for a prickly-yet-handsome ex-Blade character in the Voltron stage show.”

Keith frowned. “Wait, what do you mean ex-Blade ? Wouldn’t it just be easier to say I’m on Team Voltron?”

“Because the five Paladins of Voltron have already been cast! We can’t confuse the fans like that!”

The Blade – ex-Blade, his mind conceded – groaned. Ex-Blade…half-Galran…it’s like I can’t be anything all the way.

“Ah…that came out wrong,” Lance backpedaled. “It’s not like you’re not a paladin, even though you’re not one right now…um, what I mean is–“

“It’s fine,” Keith interjected. “I don’t care about whether or not I have my own lion right now. With everything that’s been going on recently, I think substitute paladin’s more than enough for me.”

In truth, Keith hadn’t really given it much thought after Kolivan had turned him away. Maybe he did miss Red a little, and even Black now that he thought about it. They’d only just started getting to know each other, really – and he hadn’t exactly been in the best mindset to lead Voltron back then. It was something he needed to have a longer think about…what was the right place for him in Team Voltron? Maybe after this mission, he could finally stop being so stubborn and discuss it with everyone.

“Hmm, alright – I hope you mean that!” Lance narrowed his eyes, but ended the conversation with a satisfied nod. He casually looped his bayard over his belt and moved back towards the centre of the room, wandering from one Galran sentry to the next as he carefully inspected them.

Disinterested, Keith strolled over to the soldier nearest to the comms – the one he had so skillfully, accidentally skewered. He bent over, yanking his knife from the crux of the Galran’s neck. Thick, dark blood oozed languidly from the wound, causing Keith to curl his lip. He wiped the blade roughly on his sleeve.

“Keith, c’mere!” Lance yelled, waving a beckoning hand. “I think this one’s in good enough condition.”

The half-Galran strode over to the pile of debris that had formerly been their modded Kalkaran fighter. Frankly, he was amazed that the wing panels were mostly intact, since the entire cockpit had been reduced to little more than smouldering ashes in contrast.

“It got a little charred by the explosion, but you can probably brush most of that off,” Lance said, tugging at the collar of the Galran corpse beneath him. He swept his hand over the chest plate, smearing away some of the dust and grease. “Looks about your size too, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Keith’s eyes narrowed warily.

“The suit, duh!” The Red Paladin hoisted the body up, searching its back for a zipper. “What, did you think you’d be hanging up your acting hat so soon?”

“ That was your plan?” Keith frowned. “Pretending to be him on a call is one thing, but I look nothing like this Zaru gu–is this one even Zaru?”

“This is indeed Zaru! Well, according to Mr. No-Name McShooty back there, anyway. Oh, that totally reminds me,” Lance continued, unzipping the Galran uniform and peeling it over the guard’s shoulders. The corpse flopped backwards into his lap, making the brunette shudder in disgust. “Urgh, little help please!”

Keith wrinkled his nose as he scooped his hands beneath the Galran’s armpits and hoisted him up, tugging against the resistance as the sticky suit was peeled away. The half-Galran gulped thickly, trying his best not to gag. He then hauled the body a few steps away from Lance before dropping it unceremoniously. The way it landed was all contorted and wrong, and Keith was unable to suppress the loud retch that clawed its way out of his throat. He clamped his eyes shut, sucking in heavy breaths through his nostrils and pivoting back towards his boyfriend.

“…You alright?”

Keith held up a hand, the other hovering cautiously over his mouth. “What…did you remember?”

“Huh? …Oh, yeah! When that other guard was talking about Zaru, he called him this word…I think it was ylssar?” Lance fidgeted with the suit’s zipper thoughtfully. “I was just wondering if you knew what it meant?”

“Oh, sure,” Keith replied, gently prying the uniform from the other boy’s hands. “It’s like ‘idiot’,  or maybe ‘failure’? Kolivan used to say it sometimes when he scolded us after a mission.”

“Ah, okay!” Lance nodded with understanding. “And is the grammar like ‘you’re such a ylssar!’…or is it more ‘you really made a ylssar of that’?”

Keith held the outfit up to his chest; it seemed close enough in size. “Uh…the first one.” He folded it lazily in two and flopped it onto the Red Paladin’s lap again. “Why do you care?”

“It’s just interesting! I like alien things and I like languages; this is the perfect middle ground between the twoooh you’re taking your clothes off now! Ok!!”

“Yes?” Keith blushed, stepping out of his Kalkaran suit. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

“–m not being weird,” Lance mumbled, hiding his reddened cheeks in the crook of his shoulders. “I just w–wasn’t ready.”

“You’ve seen me without a shirt plenty of times though, right?” He crouched down next to the brunette, placing his hand atop the other boy’s as it fidgeted with the Galran fabric. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Y–yeah I know, but it’s different after…” Lance trailed off shyly.

“After I became more Galran?” Keith offered.

“Nooooo!” Lance cheeks burned hotter. “Since we…made out earlier.”

“… Ah .” Keith was suddenly feeling a little hotter too. “I mean, that was…uh. You know…like…” He stuttered through his jumble of thoughts. “There was a certain vibe back then. And I’d argue that an enemy hangar full of Galran corpses is not the same vibe.”

“Heh, maybe that’s what I should be focusing on, right?” Lance smirked lightly, then gave his head a brisk shake. The redness of his face slowly settled down to a light dusting of pink. “Alright, I’m…I’m good now, geez. Here, put this on already.” He thrust the Galran suit into Keith’s chest, before hoisting himself back onto his feet.

The ex-Blade unfurled the outfit, the rigid plating helping to hold its shape. He pulled the back wide and stepped into each leg hole, giving his ankle a wiggle as he struggled to line up one of the inbuilt soles. Gradually, he tugged the rest of the garment up over his hips and past his chest, finally slipping his arms through the sleeves. He crinkled his nose at the lingering body heat that clung to the lining. More pleasantly though, he found that both gloves were much roomier on his clawed fingertips. Keith pinched and jostled the suit, trying to line up the armored segments more comfortably. There was a front chest guard, two shoulder panels on the back, pauldrons for each arm, knee guards, and a few other hard panels that protected his vitals. The outfit was sleek, angular and dark in colour, with the usual fuschia gashes on the front. It was also a little more unique than the soldier uniforms he’d seen before, leading Keith to assume Zaru held a low-but-notable rank.

“Want me to zip you up?” Lance suddenly appeared behind him, startling the half-Galran a little.

“Uh, sure,” Keith mumbled, angling his back. He felt Lance’s delicate fingertips brush against his bare spine, then stop abruptly.

“Oh, um. What about…your tail?”

“Ah, sorry. Let me just tuck it in,” Keith replied, worming his tail into one of his pant legs. The material was stretchy enough for it to be tolerable, though not especially comfortable either.

Lance gawked. “So the Kalkarans can put an extra zipper onto a suit, but the Galra can’t?”

“Yeah? What kind of equitable workplace did you think the Galran Empire was?” Keith scoffed. “Besides, I don’t actually think tails are all that commonplace.”

“Really? Though I guess I haven’t really seen that many Galra with tails, now that you mention it…” Lance tugged the suit’s opening together, pulling the zip up in one fluid movement. He gave Keith’s shoulder a soft pat, before walking a few steps past him curiously. “Jeez, Keith! What did you do to him?!” The brunette recoiled, seeing the unnatural bend of Zaru’s neck against the floor.

“I just dropped him; it was an accident!” Keith objected, feeling the bile pooling at the back of his throat again.

Carefully, Lance used his foot to roll the body onto its stomach. “Hmm, well that is interesting. Look at this, Keith.”

“Can you…just tell me instead?” The half-Galran held his fingers against his lips.

Lance gave a light chuckle. “Well um, he has a stump. Like, a tail stump – probably had it docked or something.”

The thought made Keith’s toes curl a little. What reason could the Galra have for cutting off their own tails – was it a cultural practice, or something less savoury? One of the Blades, Antok, had a tail, but he’d never really thought of it as unusual. After all, Galran traits tended to be rather diverse. Maybe Keith should have asked him about it…but it might have been something rather personal, actually.

“Anyway, as educational as this has been, I guess we’d better get moving,” Lance said with finality, fishing around in his pockets for something. He procured a set of silver cuffs, looping one around his left wrist. He held the other out towards Keith expectantly.

“Wh–why do you have those?” The half-Galran gawked. “And are you sure it’s a good idea to actually handcuff yourself?”

“Found them in the Kalkaran hangar,” the brunette shrugged plainly. “We have to sell the idea, right? How else are they gonna believe you’re on Zarkon’s side?”

“I can think of several answers to that question,” Keith shook his head. Still, he sighed in conceit and took the Red Paladins’s wrist, spinning him backwards as he twisted it behind the other boy’s back.

“Ow! Be gentle!”

“Just getting into character,” he teased. Keith hooked two of his fingers over the handcuffs, pushing into Lance’s back with his knuckles. At the cue, he stepped forward, and the pair began to make their way towards the door.

Sucking in a nervous breath, the half-Galran placed his hand on the palm scanner, feeling the cool rush of air as the metallic entrance slid open. Immediately, he locked eyes with another Galran guard at the end of the hallway. Keith quickly tempered his expression, tensing his brows a little as he gave a curt nod. He was sure not to let his relief show when he received the same in return.

The unspoken approval gave Keith the reassurance that he needed, and he led Lance through the adjacent corridor with increased confidence. Unlike their last mission, he had at least a vague semblance of direction thanks to his conversation with Xamia, and so he steered the paladin smoothly towards the holding cells. Though it wasn’t their final destination, it made sense to head that way while they were still finding their bearings. Worst case, he could probably drop Lance off and discreetly search for the scrambler on his own, though he doubted the brunette would be in favour of that idea.

“Hey, check out that guy,” Lance whispered, tipping his head slightly left. “He doesn’t look like one of the sentries.”

Keith’s eyes flitted towards the tall, spindly Galran in the distance. Unlike everyone they’d seen so far, he wore a long, pale grey tunic with a cowl neck. His gaze was fixed downwards at the large tablet he carried; the Galran clicked his tongue in annoyance at something on the screen.

“Yeah…let’s follow him,” Keith replied, gently increasing his pace. The duo trailed the mysterious Galran, maintaining a sensible distance as to not draw his attention. They weaved down hall after snaking hall, the endless glow of neon striplights starting to blur together in the corners of Keith’s eyes. He thumbed at the edge of Lance’s cuffs, trying to keep his focus forward, but still his mind wandered to the endless stutter of silvery doors bordering their passage. He’d never had the freedom to walk openly aboard a Galra ship like this; to soak in more than just the number of guards and their nearest escape route. Even though it had improved during his time as a Blade, Keith’s knowledge of Galran script was still pretty limited. Yet he recognised a few of the symbols above the doorframes. Armory. Barracks. Rec Center. It was strange to imagine the Empire’s soldiers existing in any context other than battle. Strange, despite the cruelty and brutality they’d come up against, to be reminded that the Galrans they fought were people too.

Abruptly, the smaller boy halted; Keith’s knees buckled as he tried to soften the weight of his body slamming into Lance’s back.

“Oof!” The Red Paladin grunted, lurching forward from the bump. He was then snapped quickly back into the hand around his cuffs, eliciting a second groan.

“Why’d you sto–“ Keith grumbled, but swallowed his words upon realising they weren’t alone.

A broad-shouldered female Galran filled the space in front of them. Her jaw shifted continuously, as if chewing on something; a jagged scar curved across it. In her right hand was a blaster, large enough to be wielded with two hands, and yet she seemed to swing it back and forth effortlessly. Hauling the gun over her shoulder, she finally parted her lips to speak.

“I’d heard whispers going ‘round that a Paladin o’ Voltron had been captured,” the burly woman punctuated each sound with a loud smack of her gums. “Just had t’ come see it for myself.”

“Uh, yep…here he is.” Keith swallowed dryly. He watched anxiously as the suspicious figure they’d been trailing darted around a corner, but tried not to let it show on his face. Even without visible pupils, he could feel the Galran’s eyes drilling into them both. And why was her voice so…familiar?

Suddenly, her free hand gripped Lance’s chin, and she jerked him forward. “This is one o’ the guys bringing the whole damn Empire to its knees? It’s almost embarrassing, seeing how pitiful you are without your big fancy Lion.” She gave a bare-toothed sneer, squeezing the brunette’s face uncomfortably tighter.

A look of defiance flared across Lance’s features; craning closer, he spat directly into the Galran woman’s face.

Her formerly-cocky expression soured immediately; her nostrils widened while her mouth shriveled down into a sharp pucker. “Who d’you think you are?” Each word chilled Keith to the bone; he could sense her intense animosity. “I could crush you with but two o’ my fingers. It’d be easy . Like snapping a twig.” She clenched sharply around Lance’s skull, her large palm completely eclipsing it.

Cold sweat beaded at the back of Keith’s neck. He couldn’t blow his cover. He mustn’t blow his cover.

A meek groan escaped Lance’s lips.

“Wh–oof!” The female Galra grunted, as a strong fist collided with her cheek. What looked to be a gnarled piece of gum flew from her mouth and landed off somewhere behind her. For a few moments, she remained completely frozen; then, the arm holding her blaster slung itself down from her shoulder. The sudden spike of bloodlust in the room was practically palpable.

Keith quickly jerked his fist back to his side – he’d reacted faster than his brain could restrain itself. This Galran woman was unquestionably bad news, and now he had to come up with a reason for punching her in the face. “C-commander Tharys said that no one is permitted to touch the prisoner.” He squared his shoulders, trying to feign an air of authority.

“Oh did he now?” The hulking Galran scoffed, pausing expectantly.

“That’s right…” Keith squirmed. An aura of tension crackled in the air; so silent that he could hear Lance’s pulse drumming in sync with his own. And there was still something so familiar about this soldier…could they have crossed paths before? And worse, did that mean she would recognise him?

“…Hah!” The Galran let out a sudden laugh, clamping a hand down onto Keith’s shoulder. 

He clenched reactively, but the hand came down a second time, like a slightly-too-strong pat.

“Ah, quiznak! You’re one o’ them real by-the-book types, aren’t you?” She shook her head, smiling. “I just can’t take you seriously.”

Keith had to catch his jaw from falling agape – her entire demeanour had shifted.  Was she actually…enjoying herself?

“Got a real mean right hook though!” She continued, rubbing her face. “Guess that’s how someone like you makes first class when you’re still so obviously green! Between you and Zaru, Dazaal must be training them well in Vida.”

The half-Galran gave a polite half-chuckle, barely following the context clues of their conversation. She knew his rank and station, probably from the uniform he’d stolen from Zaru, but she also knew that he wasn’t Zaru himself. She was, in other words, a very dangerous person to get caught chatting with for too long.

“What’s your name, soldier?” The female Galra probed lightly.

“Kei–“

THMP! Lance’s heel discreetly dug itself into the other boy’s shin.

“–sshhh! It’s Keesh.” The ex-Blade mustered all of his strength to suppress the pained yelp at the back of his throat.

“Well, Officer Keesh, I must point out you’re quite far off-course from the holding cells.” She gave a friendly tut, but the calling-out of their ploy sent a nervous shiver down Keith’s spine. “But as your senior officer, I would be glad t’ escort you and your precious cargo there.” She glared hungrily at the Red Paladin, causing Keith to yank him back by his handcuffs protectively.

“N-no, thank you,” he stuttered. “We were just taking a…a detour. We’ll be fine on our own.”

“…Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” The Galran woman leaned closer to the ex-Blade, looming over Lance as if he wasn’t there at all. “C’mon, no need to be stingey. I can vouch for you too, y’know? Say that he jumped you first; that you had to…defend yourself.”

Their conversation was quickly going south. The soldier’s scarred face was so close to Keith’s that he could smell the sour tang of her breath. But more importantly, her raspy voice in his ear stirred something; a distant, hazy memory.

“A–A–“ It was something he shouldn’t know; he couldn’t know. And yet…”–You’re…Azrith, right?”

“Hm?” Keith’s abruptness seemed to actually catch the Galran off-guard; she retreated back a step. “Didn’t know I had such a reputation ‘round here. Who told you that?”

“Nobody did…” the ex-Blade mused aloud. “I uh…I think I met you in a dream?” He sounded unhinged. But he really had met her, in what was more of a nightmare than a dream. It was the one where he was part of the Empire; where he infiltrated the Castleship, and where he had strangled Lance.

Azrith scrunched up her nose, looking at Keith as if he’d just thrown up in front of her. “That s’posed to be a pick up line?”

“Uh, I–um,” the half-Galran sputtered feebly. He didn’t even know how to begin explaining what he’d just blurted out, so he instead gave a dumb nod.

“…Yeah, no. Ick.” She recoiled further away from the two boys, taking the supposed flirtation as a personal affront. “On second thought; you can make your own way t’ the holding cells. Don’t talk to me again.” Azrith jabbed a finger in Keith’s direction, grimacing. “And keep me the hell out o’ your dreams.” With a final huff, the female Galra stormed off down the corridor.

Lance and Keith both held their breaths until Azrith was finally out of sight, before releasing the same monumental sigh of relief.

“Oh quiznak, I thought we were done for!” Lance said with a shaky laugh. “What was all that ‘ I met you in a dream’ nonsense about, anyway? How’d you know it’d gross her out like that?”

“It wasn’t nonsense! I really did talk to her in a dream one time…” Keith grumbled. “I don’t know why I suddenly remembered it, but I guess it’s a good thing I did.” 

…That was half-true. In pit of his stomach, Keith had a nagging feeling it was Azrith’s suggestion of torturing Lance that had sparked his recollection.

“You can say that again,” Lance agreed. “C’mon then, we’d better get moving if we have any hope of catching up to that lanky guy from before.”

“Ugh, yeah.” Keith ran a soft stroke of his hand down Lance’s back, gently nudging him forward as he retook hold of his cuffs.

The two boys wandered in the direction they’d last seen their Galran lead, hoping that the change in lighting up ahead was as good a sign as any that they were going the right way. Lance in particular seemed to have a bit more fire in his steps, their brush with danger igniting a little more bravery in him than before.

“Ok, wait. You’ve told me about your dream, but there’s still something else you haven’t explained.” The Red Paladin turned his neck, shooting the half-Galran his best side-eye. “… Quiche? ”

“Wh–I was put on the spot! You kicked me in the leg!!” Keith sulked.

“I mean yeah but…quiche? Like the egg tart?!” Lance’s low voice was steadily getting louder with incredulity.

“No, not quiche! Keesh! They’re not th–oh, they…sound identical out loud, don’t they.”

“Mm-hmm,” the brunette hummed. The ship creaked and groaned around them quietly, with fewer guards on patrol to detract from the ambient noises. “…I liked when you punched Azrith in the face. That was really satisfying. And she’s right, you know – you’ve got a wicked fist!”

“And she’s got a wicked face,” Keith retorted. “I could have broken a knuckle on that jaw of hers!” He flexed his fingers for emphasis – they still ached a little from the blow. Up ahead, the ex-Blade saw a figure suddenly dart by in a familiar grey robe. The doors before them parted, and the Galran entered a large room at the end of the passageway. It was only brief, but Keith saw enough to let out a gasp of anticipation. “Th–that room! I think it might be where they’re keeping the scrambler.”

“You sure?” Lance squinted at the door, as if doing so would allow him to see through it. “What did you see?”

“There were cables everywhere, lots of science-y looking Galra, a bunch of screens that were monitoring Kalkara…and a really big disc in the middle. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

The Red Paladin nodded. “That sounds promising. But the next question is, how do we get inside? We’ve been scraping by on this hostage act, but I don’t think we can play the ‘lost’ card in there.”

“I agree…” Keith sighed. “You might have to sit this one out.”

Deep in thought, Lance chewed at his lip. “Can’t exactly say that I’m keen for us to split up, but I think you’re right. I wouldn’t get three steps into the room before at least fifty Galran soldiers would jump me.” 

“As soon as I uncuff you, your cover’s blown. You gonna be alright out here?”

“Got my bayard. Got a good corner to hide in for at least a little while.” He tipped his head towards a small nook next to the doorframe. “And once a sentry comes past, at least I can make a good distraction for you to do your thing.”

Keith fidgeted on the spot nervously. While he didn’t want Lance to put himself in any more danger than he had to, it wasn’t as if they had much choice. He’d just have to be quick; maybe he could get in and out before anyone even noticed a Paladin of Voltron lurking by the entrance. “Alright, sure. You got a key for these cuffs?”

“Right thigh pocket,” he replied, lifting his leg.

The half-Galran slid two fingers into the fabric slit, procuring the key and inserting it into the metallic restraints. They opened with a soft click, and the brunette gently slid his wrists apart, giving them a soft rub.

“Ahh, feels nice to finally take them off…wait.” Lance abruptly slammed his arms back behind his back. “What if the hallways are being watched?” His eyes scanned the ceilings, looking for any sign of a camera.

“They’re not,” Keith said bluntly. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have any need for all the patrolling guards; you’d just station them equally apart and mobilise them if you saw something suspicious.”

“Huh…” Lance gave a slow nod. “Guess you learned a few things running stealth missions with the Marmorans.” He relaxed his hands once more, pulling out his bayard and changing it into blaster form. “Go on then, before one of the guards circle back.”

“Okay…stay safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Keith went to leave, but quickly corrected himself. “Actually, don’t do anything I would . Just keep hidden; I’ll be back soon.” 

With those parting words, the ex-Blade left Lance ducked behind the corner wall. He straightened his posture, mentally bracing himself to enter the room. After a few moments, he sucked in a deep breath and crossed the threshold, the automatic doors parting to reveal a sensory overload of voices and machinery hard  at work. There had to be a good twenty or thirty of the grey-cloaked Galrans hunched over screens or switchboards – they looked to be engineers. Another ten or so larger Galrans, dressed in armor, patrolled the area. For such a large guard presence, Keith figured that this had to be the scrambler. His gaze panned over the strange, circular device in the centre of the room. Wires and cables of every size were crammed into it, draping over the railing and up the walls like an invasive plant species. It hummed and whirred, glowing with the faint golden hue of what Keith assumed to be quintessence.

“You! Why are you standing around gawking?” One of the soldiers approached him. “Do you have permission to be here?”

“I, uh…” Keith’s brain stalled, searching desperately for a convincing response. “Officer Azrith’s orders, sir! I’ve been asked to…to check on something for her.” …Check on something? God, not even one minute and he’d already blown his cover.

“Geez…Azrith’s orders?” The Galran shuddered. “You do whatever that veshla said. I won’t get in your way.”

…Or perhaps not. Keith suddenly felt very lucky that their run-in had ended when it had. He tipped his head politely at the guard, then continued past him.

He feigned purpose as he wandered past the Galran engineers, each tinkering with a different project. One was tapping away, entering complex-looking data in an alien script. Another was operating a large centrifuge that took up two benches; her finger tapped impatiently as she watched it, unblinking. He approached a third, whose workspace was lined with vials and vials of quintessence. They reminded him of the strange capsules that Prozak had used to power up when they fought. Beside them was a syringe-like device, with a slot clearly designed to hold one of the vials for administration.

“…Give me one.” Keith blurted out. He didn’t really understand what compelled him, other than he’d feel a lot safer if it were in his hands than the Empire’s.

“Very well.” The rather portly engineer replied, lodging one of the canisters into place before handing over the contraption. “Did Azrith only ask for the one?”

“Y–yeah…” The half-Galran trailed off, pocketing it before he drew any further attention. Now that he was actually inside the scrambler lab, Keith was beginning to realise just how sorely underprepared he and Lance were. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d somehow deluded himself into thinking they’d just walk in, press a big ‘off’ button, and fly back out of there. Hell, even if such a button existed, he’d be dead on the ground long before he could even reach for it. This was stupid. He was stupid.

Disheartened, he wandered deeper into the lab, noticing a rather elaborate set of screens in the back. The central monitor showed an internal view of the scrambler, its many gears and turbines rotating in intricate sequence. On the smaller displays were various charts and graphs that seemed to be tracking vitals; heart rate, respiration, body temperature…whose vitals, however, Keith couldn’t say. In the bottom-left screen was another reading – quintessence output. A sickening feeling twisted in his stomach.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s Commander Tharys’ design,” said the Galran stationed in front of the display, his voice tinged with admiration.

“How does it work?” Keith asked, faintly feeling like he might regret it.

“I only know half of it myself,” he began, stroking his knuckles idly. “About ten at a time, usually prisoners we’ve rounded up here and there. Anaesthetise them, pop ‘em in the synaptic chambers until their cognition breaks enough that we can harvest their quintessence without any resistance. Much easier when they don’t fight it, you know.”

“…What…” It took every fibre in his body for Keith to swallow his rage.

“Then all we have to do is keep them on life support until they’re fully depleted. Rinse and repeat! It’s so…elegant,” he smiled darkly.

The sickening feeling from earlier bubbled forth, churning and pushing the bile from Keith’s stomach with a wretched heave. Putrid spit spewed past his lips, splattering the console and floor in front of him.

“Eugh, what’re you doing?!” The engineer leapt backwards, recoiling from Keith’s involuntary purge.

“Is there a problem?” A sharp-voiced soldier approached the unfolding commotion.

“Yeah! This guy just started puking his guts out!”

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leav–“

BWOOOOOOOM!!

A thundering gunshot made the entire lab quake. Two more followed in quick succession; the reverberations made the scrambler let out a mechanical whine.

“What in Drule’s name is going on out there?!” Another guard hissed, pointing his blaster towards the door.

Keith’s chin was sticky; he didn’t care. His heartbeat hitched in his chest, listening anxiously to the commotion outside. After all, the last person he saw in that hallway was–

Another loud crash echoed through the walls, but this time it was accompanied by the screeching of metal; the warped steel doors of the lab stuttered open, cleaved apart by strong purple claws. Clambering through the entryway in a haze of white smoke, Azrith stomped forward, slinging her gun around wildly. She halted, locking eyes with Keith, and he felt every muscle in his body flinch.

“That one!” She snarled, with enough venom to make even the guards jump. “I want him alive! ”

The half-Galran suddenly felt forty pairs of beady yellow orbs bore into him. There was a hesitant pause, before the horde surged inwards all at once. Keith scrambled for his knife, but winced as a blow to his hand knocked it from his grasp. A sea of arms swirled around him, scratching and grabbing and tearing anything they could. Keith squirmed desperately; he tried to crouch lower, to slip beneath the crowd of Galran attackers, when he felt a swift strike to the back of his head. His vision shuddered, and he felt himself falling lower, plummeting to the ground. The sounds of struggle slowly dissipated, replaced by slow and heavy footsteps moving closer. Each blink felt heavier and heavier. A blurry purple figure towered over him.

“I’m gonna have fun…breaking you two.”

Chapter Text

Lance awoke to an acrid, bleach-like scent that made his nostrils burn. His whole body ached, and his eyelids were far too heavy. Forcefully, he peeled them open one at a time, revealing nothing but the stark white ceiling above him. He could just barely make out stern chatter through the walls; words like ‘Voltron’ and ‘scrambler’ snagging his interest. The brunette went to sit up, but found himself abruptly pinned by a pressure on his chest. He awkwardly craned his neck downwards, just able to catch a glimpse of the thick black band holding him flat. As he became more aware of his surroundings, Lance felt cool metal cuffs wrapped firmly around his wrists. But, more urgently, he noticed the dull throb of his side, just above his right hipbone; the slight wetness there – blood. It had to be.

Panic started to prickle down his spine, and Lance jerked and tugged against his restraints, rattling the table beneath him. Likely in response to his struggle, the voices abruptly stopped, and heavy footsteps began to approach. The Red Paladin squirmed to get a better look, and saw a scarred purple face that he knew all too well.

Azrith…the Galran woman that intercepted us in the hallway. Lance remembered the confrontation clearly. He’d been bold enough to spit in her face at the time, but since their second encounter, he’d lost a lot of his nerve. 

After Keith left him outside the scrambler room, Lance had tucked himself into the nook right beside the door, his blaster nervously poised atop his knee. The corridors were silent, making the dull flutter of his pulse sound more like a cacophony of war drums in his ears. He must have stayed there for a good ten minutes, before he heard the telltale metallic clanging of armored boots stomping around the corner. He sucked in a tight breath, making himself as small as possible. He and Keith had already worked out that the guards were on a clockwise circuit, and so from the angle of their approach, the sentry shouldn’t have been able to see him. Still, that didn’t make Lance feel any less nervous.

Clunk. Clunk.

Each step drew closer. The brunette remained frozen, his eyes darting from side to side in anticipation.

Clunk. Clunk.

Lance found it strange that the ship was manned entirely by living soldiers, rather than the usual sentry bots. He wondered if the scrambler had something to do with it.

Clunk. Clu-thunk.

The guard suddenly halted. The Red Paladin craned his neck as far as he would dare, but the Galran patrolman was still just out of view. The voice that followed, however, told Lance all he needed to know.

“You. Seen anyone come by ‘ere recently? Short-ish guy, with an alien prisoner?” Azrith’s familiar twang rattled the walls.

“Not down here,” the other soldier replied firmly. “But I did see someone like that down Passageway Ceeta-4. Lotta hair on that one. And his prisoner was pretty scrawny; had a real sharp face.”

“I see…An’ you didn’t find it strange that he’d be escorting a prisoner through Ceeta-4?”

“W-well, I thought maybe he was coming from Hangar Bay Aru–“

The guard was cut off by a loud, metallic pang. There was a crunching sound, like gravel, and a soft whimper.

“M-my apologies, Azrith – a stupid suggestion, of course.” Lance could hear the pained quiver of the guard’s voice.

“Indeed,” she replied, each syllable laced with danger. “Unlike you, I confirmed my suspicions down in the holding cells. It’s one thing to go off-course, but half a varga is far too long to not ‘ave arrived yet. Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes, absolu–“

Another sharp crack punctured the air.

“That was rhetorical ,” Azrith snarled. “I’ve no doubt that they’re ‘ere to destroy the scrambler. One o’ them even claimed to be a Paladin of Voltron. Quite a pretty prize on ‘is head if that’s true.” She took a few slow footsteps – Lance could tell they were different from the guard’s – and edged closer to the lab doors. “Either they’re already inside, an’ they won’t get very far…or they’re still en route. If I meet ‘em out front, it doesn’t really matter which.”

Fight or run - the Red Paladin had two options, and only about ten seconds before the decision would be made for him. His fingers nervously gripped his rifle tighter, and he recalled the Galran woman’s sturdy form; her rippling muscles, her hungry glare…

…Run it was. Lance peeked the barrel of his gun forward and pulled the trigger. A bright blue spark crackled down the corridor, grazing past Azrith and the other soldier. It didn’t hit them, but it wasn’t meant to; as the two Galrans turned instinctively towards the site of impact, the brunette bolted from his hiding spot. His lungs burned and ached with each frantic breath, as Lance forced his legs to propel the rest of his body forward faster than it ever had before. The stretching hallway before him suddenly felt eternal – a clear shot with a gun no matter how much space he put between them. He just had to make it a little further, just to the corner up ahead–

“Oh no you don’t!” Azrith growled, swiveling around to face him. She hoisted her blaster cannon up with one hand, firing off two rounds in rapid succession. Both landed only a meter or so ahead of Lance, the force throwing him backwards in a spray of chipped wall fragments.

The brunette collided with the floor, his back slamming into the flat surface hard enough to wind him. A sharp pain rippled through his side; as Lance reached down towards it, he felt something hard and jagged sticking out just below his ribcage. Even through his gloves, he could feel hot blood spilling from the wound.

So much for the distraction he’d promised Keith. Things might have been different with just the sentry there, but Azrith’s unexpected arrival had really thrown a wrench in their plans. Only now did Lance fully understand the vastness between their abilities; that this outcome had been decided the moment she’d crossed paths with the two warriors of Voltron earlier. The Red Paladin let out a haggard groan, squeezing his bayard tighter as he tried to roll onto his stomach.

“You deal with this one – don’t let ‘im run off again,” Azrith barked at the patrolman. “If he’s ‘ere, the Galran must be in the lab.”

Although blood loss was starting to make Lance’s vision haze, he could still make out Azrith’s back as she approached the lab doors. Not yet… he forced his mind to hang on, to resist the lure of fainting for just a little longer; Keith needs more time . Lance dragged his right hand up above his head, mustering his last dregs of energy to tilt his rifle a fraction higher. It took two fingers to squeeze down on the trigger, but a single bolt of energy tore through the air and seared cleanly through the female soldier’s left thigh. She let out a furious howl as the metallic doors warped behind her, swallowing the blast on exit.

Clutching her leg, Azrith locked eyes with Lance. Her glare commanded such intense animosity that a bone-chilling shudder rippled down the brunette’s spine. “Don’t think I won’t return this favour,” she hissed ominously, before finally breaking her gaze. She looked over to the other Galran sentry, who was standing a few feet away from the Red Paladin, and gave a curt nod. Lance saw her turn back towards the lab door, wrenching her fingers forcefully between the bent panels. However, he saw little else after that, feeling only the blunt collision of a boot in the back of his head.

Darkness had followed, for what felt like both mere seconds and an eternity of drifting through his unconscious mind. And now…here he was. Awake, pinned to a table, and utterly alone. Well, except for the eight-foot Galran looming over him, wearing a wicked grin that made Lance feel she was about to make good on her promise.

--

Keith awoke to a damp, rancid smell, like that of a butcher shop. The sharp scent of dried blood and viscera left an iron-like tang at the back of his throat. He allowed his eyelids to flutter open, but did not lift his head – based on the stench, this probably wasn’t the kind of place that Keith wanted to draw attention to himself. His purple irises darted about discreetly, taking in tall iron bars and a shadowy room on the other side of them. They also noted the source of the horrible odour – a somewhat pudgy set of legs, perched against the wall with absolutely nothing left above them but a wet smear. The half-Galran bit his lip, resisting the urge to vomit for a second time today. 

Carefully, Keith shifted his wrists, and felt the gentle tug of a cuff around each of them. He gave his legs a testing pull, and heard the soft clink of a chain dragging over the floor. “ ...Fuck ,” the ex-Blade cursed under his breath. His pulsing headache served as a reminder of how he’d ended up captured in the first place – more specifically, how Azrith had burst into the lab and instigated a dogpile. She’d said that she wanted them both alive…so why wasn’t Lance with him? Before Keith could suppress his intrusive thoughts, his conversation in the scrambler lab bubbled up to the surface.

“...Anaesthetise them, pop ‘em in the synaptic chambers until their cognition breaks enough that we can harvest their quintessence…”

“...All we have to do is keep them on life support until they’re fully depleted…”

“Urgh!” Keith slammed his fists into the ground, his teeth clenched together so slightly that his gums ached. He knew that the Galran Empire had done terrible things. They’d destroyed planets, killed off entire species, and forced others into slavery. But there was something particularly sickening about breaking their captives’ minds, and then sponging the very life force from them until nothing was left but a dried-up husk. It felt like the first time he truly understood just how deep the wounds inflicted by Zarkon’s rule ran; something he would also have to grapple with in adopting his new identity.

Unsurprisingly, Keith’s outburst had drawn the attention of a guard – a shorter man with a rather fresh-looking black eye. He craned his neck through the bars, giving a somewhat unconvincing sneer.

“You finally awake? Took long enough; your poor old roommate got tired of waiting.” The Galran pointed at the alien remains by the wall. “Nah, I’m just kidding. That was a joke, see?”

Keith glared in response, remaining silently hunched over the floor.

“What, you don’t wanna know what happened? Well, I’ll tell you – this guy found out what we were gonna do to him, and he just swelled up and popped like a big, bloody water balloon! Killed himself to get out of it, the nasty little freak.”

“It was the synaptic chambers, right?” Keith stated bluntly. He continued to stare daggers into the guard.

The Galran flinched, but held his nerve. “Ooh, well aren’t we well-informed? I’m sure that’s where they’ll be taking your little friend too, once Azrith finishes interrogating him. He’s only a few doors down – you might even be lucky enough to hear his screams.”

Keith’s expression immediately soured. He yanked at his restraints, the metal links clinking loudly.

“Hah! Those chains have held beasts much stronger than you. You aren’t going anywhere ; at least not until Azrith says so.”

Azrith this, Azrith that. It really seemed like Azrith was running the show back here. Keith understood now that their chance encounter in the corridors really had been a damning hitch in their plan.

“You’re wrong,” Keith hissed defiantly. “I’m getting out of here. And when I do, you’re dead .” A hungry, animalistic feeling clawed at Keith’s insides again. He was too angry to resist it.

“Ooh, so scary!” The guard scoffed. “A runt like you isn’t even on my level. Not that you’ll even break out of that cell in the first place, though I’m looking forward to seeing you try.” He leaned out of view for a moment, returning with a stiff-looking metal chair. He span it around, straddling it and planting both arms on top of the backrest.

Keith bristled at the Galran’s confidence, though he didn’t have much to refute it. His dagger had been confiscated; that much was clear from the empty sheath at his hip. There might’ve been something helpful in his pockets, but he was unable to reach them in his current state. It was bad enough for his hands and feet to be bound together, but they were tautly fastened to the floor in what could only be described as a groveling position – Keith was sure that was an intentional choice. 

He gave an irritated grunt, fruitlessly yanking at the chains again. The half-Galran didn’t have time for this. For every second he wasted in this goddamned prison, Lance was probably being tortured by Azrith; he didn’t have any reason to doubt the guard’s comments. No matter what, he had to get out of here – fast. And yet, his brain was coming up empty. 

Think, dumbass! Think!

Without any better ideas, Keith continued tugging and clawing at his restraints until his joints ached. His skin itched with frustration, and a cool numbness trickled down his le–

No, not his leg. His tail . In all of his hot-headedness, Keith had completely forgotten about the untethered limb hidden beneath his suit. A plan slowly began to formulate in his mind.

I’m coming for you, Lance . Keith steeled himself, his eyes flicking resolutely between the guard and his cuffs. Please just…just be okay.

--

Lance was not okay.

“Grghhhh!” The brunette groaned through gritted teeth as Azrith’s finger plunged deeper into his wound. She wiggled the digit playfully, relishing the agonised moans that erupted from the boy.

“I won’t ask a third time,” the Galran sneered. “Although I would love the excuse to keep doing this.” Finally, she extracted her finger from Lance’s gut. “Where are you hiding the Lions?”

The Red Paladin’s breath came out in shaky pants. He was in pain – so much pain – but that didn’t mean he was about to break the trust of his teammates. “I’m not…telling you…anything!”

“Hah! What d’you think; two fingers this time? It might be a bit of a tight fit.” Without hesitation, Azrith thrust her fingers back into Lance’s side. Her pointed claws scraped at the inner walls of his flesh, and the two cramped digits scissored him further open; Lance could feel his skin tearing wider to accommodate their girth.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. The brunette’s fists were clenched so tightly that his nails had surely drawn blood. His only thought of solace was that if Azrith was asking him about the Lions, it meant that Hunk and Coran were still safe. But where was Keith? As far as the Galrans were aware, he wasn’t a Paladin of Voltron – he was of little use to them. 

Just before the harrowing thought could develop any further, Azrith finally plucked her fingers out again, the suction of his insides releasing them with a wet pop. She reached down, gripping Lance’s jaw, and tipped it to one side. The boy felt his own hot blood smeared against his cheek.

“Such a fragile thing,” she sneered. “What d’you call your kind?”

Lance couldn’t meet her eyes; he scanned the room meekly. There was nobody else but him and Azrith; the other Galran from earlier must have left them. On the far wall, he saw a table of strange silvery objects. Were they for…interrogating him?

“Don’t ignore me!” Azrith gripped the brunette tighter, his bones straining under her sheer strength. Tears began to well up – were they from pain? Or fear? “…This isn’t about Voltron. I just wanna know what you are .”

“…A human,” Lance rasped. Part of him thought it was hardly the most harmful information to give the General, but the other part of him just didn’t want to incite further punishment.

“Hyoo...man,” Azrith muttered to herself, rolling the foreign word over her tongue. “And what about your friend? Was ‘e really Galran?”

“H-half…”

“Hmm…so fascinating,” the menacing woman hummed. She finally released Lance’s face, turning to the table of tools he’d spotted earlier. As she continued talking, he could hear the metallic clatter of several items being lifted and moved around. “Y’know, this attack on Kalkara’s been in the works for decaphoebs. All the best ‘n’ brightest of Zarkon’s forces came together to make it happen. I’m sure y’can understand why so many resources would be put into the project – it’s the galaxy’s quintessence capital, after all. But it begs the question–“ The flimsy table shook as Azrith banged something against it. “–what’s someone like me doin’ on a ship full o’ nerds?”

Clammy sweat ran down the back of Lance’s neck; he didn’t feel like this conversation was going to end well.

“It’s because they’re all white-coats, y’know?” The Galran turned back around, holding a dangerous-looking device. A long metal shaft extended from the handle, ending in a tight cage surrounded by several pincers. There were three small knobs on the sides, which looked like they could be tightened, and at the very tip was some sort of scraper or peeler. “Someone’s gotta be willing to get their hands dirty. And trust me, I’m more than willing.”

Terror gripped Lance’s chest – he had no idea what that thing in Azrith’s hand was, but he didn’t want to find out. The Red Paladin jerked backwards, the bench beneath him rattling as both of his legs kicked and thrashed. The strap over his torso dug into his arms, holding him flat despite his protests.

Azrith loomed over him, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst. “Now…shall we try this again?”

Just as the Galran edged closer – enough that Lance could feel her hot breath on his face – a shrill ringing suddenly ripped through the tension. The brunette jolted, feeling the rhythmic vibration of his communicator drumming against his thigh.

A smug grin washed over Azrith’s face. Wordlessly, she slid a hand down the Red Paladin’s side, groping at the zipper that ran down his left leg. She reached into the opened pouch, extracting the bright red device and holding it in front of her face.

“Holy quiznak Lance, did you guys se–“ Hunk paused abruptly, his little blue projection furrowing its brows at the unexpected figure. “…Keith?”

Azrith cackled loudly, amused by the idea that she could ever be mistaken for the half-Galran. “Sadly not . Your friend Keesh’s a little tied up right now.”

At any other time, it would be funny that Azrith had unknowingly used Keith’s bad cover-name from earlier – she probably couldn’t hear the difference through the communicator’s muffled speaker. But right now, a foreboding sense of peril was the only emotion that registered to Lance.

“But I do have someone here that you might know; would you like t’ say hello?” The Galran shoved the screen right up to Lance’s face; the pale light making him squint sharply.

“Lance!” Hunk gasped, observing how haggard the Red Paladin looked. “Wh-what happened to you?! And where the heck are you guys?”

“I can’t…Hunk, j-just hang up…!” He stuttered, trying to get rid of the Yellow Paladin. He knew nothing good could come from letting Azrith continue this conversation.

“ Don’t! ” She hissed, snatching the communicator back. “You end this call, something awful’s gonna happen t’ this one; I can promise you that.”

Hunk froze, a look of concern spreading across his features. Lance could tell that the other boy was slowly starting to grasp the situation he was in.

“Good; seems like we understand each other,” the Galran scoffed. She took a few steps around the bench, leaning down next to Lance so that both of their faces were in frame, and thrust the dangerous-looking tool closer. “I was just showing your friend here one of my favourite toys. It has a proper name, but I like t’ call it the separator – reason being, it’s awfully good at separating things from other things. Fingers from hands, noses from faces…I think you get the idea.”

Lance swallowed thickly, one of the sharp silver prongs resting only inches from his chin.

“Wh-what do you want?” Hunk said cautiously.

“Information, naturally. He hasn’t been very forthcoming, but maybe you’ll be a little more helpful–“ she pressed the device into Lance’s cheek for emphasis, the cold metal making him shiver. “–where are Voltron’s Lions?”

The Yellow Paladin locked eyes with the brunette.

Don’t tell her, Lance mouthed desperately. Despite what it might mean for him, everything they’d done now would all be for nothing if Hunk gave Azrith what she wanted. The Lions were their – no, the whole galaxy’s – last hope against Zarkon and the Empire. 

Biting his lip, Hunk steeled his focus back to the General. “I…won’t tell you. Your threats don’t scare either of us.”

Azrith twitched, a hint of irritation creasing over her brow. “…So we’re doing this the hard way, huh?” Without warning, the Galran rammed the end of the separator against the side of Lance’s head – he felt the toothed tip digging into his skin. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive my threats can be. Shall we start with an ear?”

--

It had taken about twenty minutes, but Keith had finally managed to work his tail up to the collar of his suit. He rolled himself onto one side, attempting to shield any suspicious movements with his body, and kept a watchful eye on the guard. The Galran’s interest seemed to be waning at this point, and he was more invested in picking at his cuticles than watching his prisoner.

Good, Keith thought to himself; he won’t notice what I’m up to. Gingerly, he pressed his tail into the seam, prying the suit’s zipper open. He inched it slowly downwards, trying to prevent any noise from escaping, until he felt the cool air sweep over his bare spine. He cautiously unfurled the limb, allowing it to gently ghost over the floor around him. The half-Galran remarked at the strange sensation; of feeling the rough concrete, the small chips and scuffs along its surface, the…was that a shoe? Something wet with blood, and sticky…

“Urp!” Keith gagged, quickly retracting his touch. The guard’s head lifted slightly at the sound, but flopped back down upon seeing nothing of interest.

With a sigh of relief, the ex-Blade concentrated on the task at hand. He curled his tail around his leg, fumbling with the clasp of his thigh pouch. Admittedly, he hadn’t had a chance to rummage through Zaru’s pockets since stealing his suit, but Keith was certain there had to be something useful amongst his belongings. Finally feeling the stud unfasten with a gentle pop, he began to rifle. Although Keith had been practicing using his tail a lot recently, he’d equate the sensation to trying to do things with his bare feet. The appendage wasn’t quite as dexterous as he’d like, and his sense of touch was still a little too dull to be accurate at times. 

His tail wrapped around a long, thin object. It was a little soft when squeezed, and came in plastic packaging. Some kind of snack bar, he concluded, placing it to one side. He reached for another pouch; this one lower down his leg. Tugging the zipper open, he felt around inside, finding something small and metallic. Keith rubbed up and down the unusual shape, struggling to fathom its dimensions – it definitely had two long handles, with a hinge that opened and closed like a pair of scissors. Maybe it could be useful? The half-Galran mused, lifting the object towards his shoulder. His eyes darted towards the guard, who looked like he was struggling to stay awake at this point; his head bobbed up and down every few seconds. Considering this clear enough, Keith slid the item over his collarbone, quickly planting it in his waiting palms. He scooped them close to his chest, finally peering down to conduct a visual assessment.

These are…claw clippers, he deduced. Keith and his dad used to use them on the farm dogs sometimes. They were shaped like a pair of pliers, but the head was more of a hook-shaped cutter useful for nails thicker than those of a human. Maybe I should get a pair, he mused. The half-Galran glanced towards his cuffs, which were held in place with a chain and bolted to the floor. Surely, he could get somewhere with these.

As discreetly as possible, Keith awkwardly twisted the clippers around in his hands. He clamped them around the chains on his wrists, and squeezed the handles together using heels of his palms. The metal links crunched and rattled, but the clippers merely slipped over each loop, unable to slice through.  

“Come on…aren’t you tired of failing yet?” The Galran sentry yawned, barely responding to the noisy escape attempts.

 Keith ignored the comment and attempted to wedge the tool under the plate that held the chain to the floor. Unfortunately, the head was too fat; it slid over the metal lip without catching, no matter how many times he forced it. Keith could feel his frustration building, his jaw clenched together in a taut pout. But he had to maintain his composure; an outburst wasn’t going to help the situation. Stay calm. Try the bolts. He talked himself back down, and after sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, he hooked the cutter around the closest bolt. The two dull blades clamped down on the metal pin, and Keith used his elbows to twist against the handles. A metallic groan rang out, and he pushed harder; harder. Suddenly, a sharp snap echoed out – the clippers had broken in two.

“Nooo!!” Keith growled, slamming his hand against the plate.

“Hey, this is getting old now!” The guard leaned forward on his chair; his blackened eye giving off an even darker sheen than before. “If you don’t cut it out, I’ll come in there and shut you up – got it? I’ve had enough .”

Keith’s hot head was quickly reduced to nothing more than steam. It seemed he’d pushed the Galran a bit too far; he probably couldn’t try something like that again. So where did that leave him?

Back at square one , his brain supplied. God – he’d already wasted so much time, and he had nothing to show for it. And what about Lance? He hesitated to imagine what was happening to his boyfriend right now. Despite the guard’s goading comments, he hadn’t been able to hear a thing through the walls. Letting out a guilty huff, the ex-Blade rolled onto his back.

“Mmf!” Keith winced, but swallowed his voice – he didn’t want to irritate the guard again. He’d been pricked by something sharp in one of his other pockets. Using his tail, Keith groped around his waist, finding his way into the pouch that was attached to his empty scabbard. He delicately grasped the assailing object, and a wave of recollection washed over him – the quintessence syringe. In truth, he hadn’t been told what it was, but he recognised the unmistakable golden fluid that swirled within the tube. If it had helped Prozak in their battle…surely it could help him too. The half-Galran’s heart pounded as he delicately withdrew it; even thinking about needles made his anxiety spike. He didn’t know why he’d been compelled to take it at the time, but perhaps it had been some sort of divine premonition. That, or sheer dumb luck.

“Hey…you got something there?” The Galran sentry stuck his head through the bars, perking up as he caught a glimpse of the shimmering yellow canister. “Is that–How did you…?!” In a panic, the guard began fumbling with the keychain on his belt.

Well, it seemed like being discreet was out the window, but at least that made things a little easier. Keith sat up awkwardly, passing the syringe from his tail to his hand. The little jolt of nerves in his chest was almost enough to make him drop it, but the ex-Blade managed to retain his grip. Calm down; it’s just a needle , he reassured himself, though the message didn’t sink in very much. No matter how irrational it was, he simply couldn’t help how he felt. Keith’s trembling palm rotated the glass cylinder, using the tip to peel back his suit a little more and expose the meat of his shoulder. He winced, inching the thin metal point closer to his arm. The half-Galran’s breaths were coming out in sharp pants, and he had to bite his lip to stop it from quivering. He hated this feeling; hated his own weakness.

The rattle of the cell bars shook Keith from his building panic. The guard seemed to be struggling to insert the key into the keyhole, but it still reinforced that time was almost up.

…Which meant Keith had to get over his fear now . The half-Galran turned his head sharply away from the syringe, clamping his eyes shut – this might be the only way he could do this, but dammit! He was doing it! He had to save himself, to rescue Lance, to protect everyone …and to that end, there wasn’t anything that could hold him back. Not the Galra. Not these chains. And certainly not his own stupid phobia.

“Gkh!” Keith grunted through his teeth, stabbing the needle into his forearm with a quick twist of his wrists. He awkwardly balanced the barrel of quintessence on his cuffs, pressing his thumb over the top of the plunger. His eyes were squeezed so tight that tears pricked from the corners, but Keith pushed ahead. Holding one hand in the other to steady himself, the half-Galran squeezed the syringe and winced, immediately feeling the unpleasant sensation of warm liquid flowing into him. Unlike his previous quintessence experience, he felt a strange tingle creep up his arm and spread its way through the rest of his body. It wasn’t pleasant; more like little static shocks firing deep within his muscles. Keith nervously flicked the syringe away, crumpling in on himself as the strange substance continued to work its way through him.

The cell door clanged loudly as the guard flung it wide open and marched into the tiny room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the discarded needle, anxiety spiking in his voice. “Hey, how’d you get one of these?!” Taking a few steps closer, the sentry cast a dark shadow over the half-Galran. “A-answer me!” He reeled back his leg, then swung forward and kicked Keith in his ribs. However, where his boot should have dug into the boy’s side, it instead bounced back, as if kicking a solid wall.

Keith, on the other hand, barely registered the blow. Every muscle in his body felt like it was being squeezed and compressed; his head was pulsing violently. Considering where the syringe came from, Keith had already suspected it wasn’t just pure quintessence in the barrel. But the tainted fluid was causing more of a reaction than he’d expected – he’d wanted the strength to break out of here, but he was starting to worry it wasn’t worth the cost. The half-Galran’s hands clenched and unclenched, his back arching dangerously inwards. All the Galran guard could do was stand there and gawk, unsure whether or not to interrupt. It felt as if Keith’s skull would split open any second, the intense pressure building from inside his forehead. Then suddenly, when it felt as if he couldn’t bear a single second longer…he heard a loud pop from his eardrums. All of the bubbling pain washed away, and a new sensation emerged. 

It was…heat. Intense, scorching heat, like his very blood was on fire. But not in a bad way – no, it felt good. Keith felt very good .

With a steady breath, the half-Galran sat up; he locked eyes with the sentry. Slowly raising his arms, he clenched his knuckles and, with a firm yank, threw them apart. The chains splintered almost effortlessly, scattering the metallic rings across the room.

“Ah…quiznak…!” The guard cursed, taking a few steps back. He reached for his belt, unclipping his blaster from its holster.

Meanwhile, Keith had risen to his feet. He bent down, gripping his restraints and giving them a hefty tug, much like uprooting a weed. The chains again crumbled in his hands, leaving the ex-Blade finally untethered from the grimy floor. Elated puffs of breath filled his lungs – the power he’d obtained was truly incredible.

His exhilaration was cut short, However, by the shot that grazed past his shoulder. The Galran sentry hissed at the near-miss, pointing his gun higher in feigned bravery. “S-so you broke the chains. So what! I told you that you and I are on completely different levels; you won’t get past me!”

“Different levels?” Keith sneered, but his eyes remained cold and sinister. “ …I agree. ”

Before the guard could fire another blast, he lunged forward, gripping the soldier’s dominant wrist and twisting. The Galran shrieked in agony, dropping his gun as Keith continued to bend the limb until a loud crunch rang out. Finally, he released him, watching his limp arm flop to one side. The soldier leaned against the wall for support, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and pain. Keith remained coolly uninterested, peeling the sleeves of his suit down to expose his torso – it was much more comfortable than zipping his tail back up, and he was still running so hot that the chill on his bare skin was somewhat relieving.

Closing the gap between his opponent again, the ex-Blade leaned forward; although he was the shorter of the two, the presence that Keith currently commanded was enough to make the Galran whimper.

“I’ve wasted enough time here. Tell me–“ Keith reached out his hand, his clawed fingertips curling around the guard’s throat; “–where are they keeping Lance?”

--

Lance’s eyes were red and puffy. His throat was raw from screaming. His ear was still attached, although it was held on by such a thin thread of skin and cartilage that the lobe sagged downwards unnaturally.

“Was that so hard?” Azrith lilted smugly. She withdrew the torturous implement from the Red Paladin, discarding it on the table behind her. “All that pain, and I still got what I wanted. Now don’t you feel silly? ” She punctuated the point by pinching his cheek.

“I-I’m so sorry, Lance,” Hunk whispered meekly. “I j-just couldn’t watch it anymore…”

“It’s ok, just…” Lance rasped, “…Just get somewhere safe. Are you with Lions now? Is the scrambler affe–“

“Alright, that’s enough from you,” Azrith interjected. “It’s been lovely chattin’ with you, Yellow Paladin, but the Red Paladin and I really must get going. Now that I know where the Lions are, I don’t need him anymore, see? And I hate leaving trash lyin’ around the ship.” 

Lance felt the blood drain from his face. After being tortured because of his value as a hostage, he trembled at the thought of what no value would get him.

“Hey, wait!” Hunk pleaded. “What are you saying? That wasn’t the deal! You promised not to hurt hi–“

Abruptly, the screen went dark; Hunk’s holographic image was gone, leaving Lance and the Galran alone once more.

“Oops, looks like the call cut out! Mustn’t be a good signal up here.” Azrith mocked, dropping the communicator onto the floor. Lance heard a swift crunching noise as she stomped on the device with her thick-soled boot.

The brunette let his head tip back onto the bench. All of the pain and terror that had tormented his thoughts were swiftly replaced by…emptiness. A quiet sense of despair enveloped him, and all Lance could do was stare directly up at the sterile lights overhead. His eyes were glassy, but he was too hollow to even muster a sob.

Out of all the possible outcomes…this one has to be the worst. When Lance had freaked out prior to the mission, he didn’t actually have much of a concrete form to give all the worst-case scenarios in his head. But now, as he came to grips with all their failures, he realised that this was it. They’d failed to destroy the scrambler. They’d failed to save Kalkara. They’d failed to protect the Lions. Maybe it was only a fitting end that they should fail to survive, too.

“Finally tired o’ fighting?” The Galran smirked, earning only a weary glance from the Red Paladin. She turned back around to her table yet again, picking up something far less sinister-looking – a clear bag of small white cloths, each in their own sealed packet. “Well, just in case you perk up again, I’d better play it safe.” She tore open the packaging with her teeth and peeled off the adhesive backing, before leaning over the brunette.

“…Ack, hol– mmf! ” Before Lance knew what was happening, Azrith had gripped his face with her free hand yet again; the other secured the adhesive bandage over his mouth. Rough fingertips smoothed the edges down, forming a perfect seal. Inhaling reflexively, Lance realised there was a faint scent to the plaster. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was then he noticed the way it was making his head swim. The back of his mind seized in panic, but that was soon blotted away by the intoxicating sedative. “…Mmf…”

“There we go.” Azrith crossed her arms in satisfaction. “While we wait for the tranquiliser to take full effect, why don’t I let you in on the plan, eh? For you, I mean.”

Normally, such a comment would definitely get a rise out of Lance. But, as his mind drifted hazily through the conversation, the most he could muster was a soft mumble of assent.

Azrith explained the scrambler to Lance, or at least her layman’s understanding of it. She told him about the synaptic chambers, and how those placed within were drained of their quintessence until only a shell remained. “That’s what will happen to you. And the half-Galran, probably. I need to check if Commander Tharys has any other ideas; his lineage might be put to better use, after all. Not like you, frail hyooman.”

Lance felt utterly sick. The horrible things Azrith described washed over him like smoke, his body weakening with each slowed breath. His chest, his legs, his eyelids – everything was so heavy. He felt his own resistance fading, too. In sedation, every speck of fight left in him drifted away. He would be placed in the synaptic chamber, drained, and forgotten. Fuel for a ship, for a war…and then nothing. Like one of the far-off stars he’d gaze at longingly as a child; destined to burn out into space dust.

Azrith slowly began to undo Lance’s restraints. “I never asked for your name, either. Guess it’s a bit too late now, huh?” She pointed to her mouth, in reference to the bandage. “Oh well! Not like I’d remember it for long.” 

The needless jabs after she’d already won should have made Lance’s blood boil. His usual self would’ve lashed out, opposed his fate right until the end, but his limp body remained flat on the bench even as Azrith uncuffed him. 

After removing the final strap over his chest, the Galran wrapped her arms around Lance’s waist, flinging him over her shoulder. She carried him towards the room next door, a slight hobble to her step from his rifle’s earlier shot, but stopped briefly by a shelf near the entrance. “Ooh, is this one o’ them special Voltron weapons? Now that’d make a nice trophy. Commander Tharys’s gonna be so impressed with me today, I tell ya.” Azrith pocketed the red bayard; a final twist in Lance’s gut as she continued to tout her victory.

The Red Paladin’s head bobbed gently with each uneven step, his only view being that of Azrith’s heels. Even though he felt so numbed, a single sensation lingered in the pit of his stomach. What is…this feeling? It was of wishing he’d worked harder; spent more time with the training bot. It was not being able to say goodbye to his family back home. And it was not even getting to see Keith one last time, in his final moments.

… Ah. This is regret.

“Oi, aren’t you th–hey, get away from there!” Azrith yelled at someone Lance couldn’t see. She unceremoniously flung the brunette from her shoulder, propping him against the doorframe as she briskly marched over to the synaptic chambers.

Lance struggled to see past the broad wall that was Azrith’s back, but between two of the yellow-tinted pods, he saw a black and purple flash dart to one side. The sudden commotion just barely shook the Red Paladin from his stupor – enough for him to drag his hand up to his face and feebly pinch at the corner of the plaster. Fatigue weighed his limbs down like dumbbells, but something new stirred in his chest that made him persist. Something hopeful, almost.

The quick-footed figure dodged Azrith’s outstretched hand, returning the strike with one of its own. All Lance could perceive was a quick flash of silver, and suddenly the clawed tip of a Galran pinky finger went flying backwards.

“Hah! Well this is a surprise!” Azrith chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the injury. She took a few steps backwards, trying to create more space between herself and the attacker.

Her opponent was drawn out from behind the chambers. He looked wild, feral; a mop of black hair that prickled with danger. His back was hunched and arms stretched out wide; his face was twisted and animalistic. A line of spit dripped down from his bared fangs. But what struck Lance most were his pupil-less eyes, blown wide and unblinking. As his head turned, Lance felt the two yellow orbs pierce right through him. Finally, the brunette’s quivering digits snagged the corner of his mask and peeled it open. One side dangled limply from his cheek, and his strength still waned. But, just barely, Lance rasped out a single word.

“…Keith?”

Chapter Text

For the first time since they’d boarded the Galran cruiser, Keith felt good . He knew that it was the quintessence concoction clouding his mind, but that didn’t bother him. If anything, he understood how the Galra had become so addicted to the substance. The hot-tempered, primal personality that Keith had been working so hard to contain was now unleashed, and the half-Galran found himself leaning into it, relishing in it . He was better than good – maybe better than he’d ever been in his life.

…So why was Lance looking at him like that? 

“Well, well,” Azrith smirked, pacing cautiously around the ex-Blade. “Looks like someone found their way to the good stuff. Y’ pick that up in the lab earlier?”

Hesitating slightly, Keith dragged his gaze away from the Red Paladin’s crumpled form. His pupil-less eyes flitted back to his opponent, sizing her up – his boiling blood was aching for a fight.

“You probably guessed that ain’t the normal stuff, huh? Guys in the lab are callin’ it Qui-X. They just started testing it on some o’ the grunts last month – heard results’ve been pretty promising.” The General leaned her shoulder against one of the many synaptic chambers that filled the room. There had to be at least a dozen of them; tall, metal cylinders, each screened by a pane of ale-coloured glass and lined up in two perfect rows. Most seemed to be empty, for now. “Considering you’re here, I’m guessing you killed the guard at the holding cells. Good for you! That one’s been irking me all day. I mean, who’d ya think gave him the black eye?”

“…Enough talking.” The half-Galran sneered, pushing Lance’s uneasy expression to the back of his mind. He wanted this – needed it – the surface of his skin bristled with excitement, and the building heat from earlier continued to bubble from his pores. Abruptly, Keith lunged towards Azrith, heaving his dagger forward with a wild recklessness.

The Galran deftly side-stepped the attack, but it was quickly followed up by two more swift slashes. At their speed, the cuts should have been fairly shallow, but with Keith’s enhanced strength, his blade shredded through Azrith’s pauldron like cheap leather.

Keith drew back, clicking his tongue at the paltry spray of blood that flowed from Azrith’s shoulder – it seemed the exaggerated shape of her armor meant there were some hollowed sections to be aware of.

If Azrith was alarmed by the fresh slices to her flesh, her expression certainly didn’t show it. In fact, she looked almost as fired up as Keith was.

“Heh, guess I’ll have t’ get a bit more serious for this one,” the Commander’s lip curled upwards. Her form shifted lower; she tucked her injured leg backwards and squared both shoulders, each clawed hand poised and ready. “Bit rude o’ you to bring a knife to a fist fight, though – Do hyoomans have that expression?”

Keith hesitated slightly, his blade feeling heavy in his palm. He cast his arm out to the side, slowly loosening each of his fingers from the handle–

“You dummy, she’s baiting you!” Lance grunted weakly. He tried to slide himself further up the wall, but his legs kicked weakly against the floor, failing to get any traction. “Just…just stab her and be done with it!”

Keith ignored the comment, allowing his weapon to slide from his grasp. He didn’t need it; he was strong enough to defeat Azrith on his own. The purple dagger clattered to the floor, providing only a brief reprieve from the oppressive tension that had swallowed up the room.

Azrith’s eyes flared, remaining deadlocked with Keith’s own. Neither cared to glance over to Lance, who bit his lip in equal parts fear and frustration. He didn’t like this new, sadistic side of his boyfriend. It was making him act rashly, and that scared the Red Paladin. But with the gaping hole in his side and the drugged fumes still clouding his system, it was all Lance could do to keep himself upright and watch the inevitable battle unfold.

The seconds began to drag, neither Galran daring to make the first move. Keith felt a long droplet of sweat slither its way down his exposed spine. He became fixated on Azrith’s hands, the way her thumb gently pushed on each knuckle and elicited a gentle crack. Even his usually-listless tail hovered motionless behind him, the thin tufts of hair that ran along its length bristling with anticipation. A faint, drawn out creak eased out from under Azrith’s boot. Keith’s sensitive ears heard the telltale scrunch of leather, and then – the General broke first.

Azrith barrelled forward like a truck, swiping broadly from the left with her claws splayed fiercely apart. Keith shifted his legs wide and ducked, feeling the cool rush of wind sweep over his neck. It was fast, but not forceful  – a feint . The revelation hit him only seconds before Azrith’s fist did; a sharp uppercut that dug deep into his face. Each knuckle ground against the half-Galran’s nose, eliciting a sickening crunch as the cartilage beneath shifted unnaturally. Keith was flung backwards by the force, slamming loudly into one of the amber-tinted pods behind him. Hot globules of blood dribbled down his upper lip, the tang of salt prickled over his tongue as he licked them away. Another punch hurtled towards him; grabbing onto the door handle of the chamber, Keith kicked out his heels and let gravity yank him downward. Azrith’s fist panged against the metal chamber; she let out a soft grunt. Without hesitation, the ex-Blade gripped the handle tighter and twisted his core, his arm tugging the heavy door behind him and flinging it open. It slammed into the Galran General, the metal frame warping to the shape of her body and spraying glass over them both as the pane shattered on impact.

Azrith swayed a little on her feet, but remained otherwise frozen, seemingly shellshocked. Although Keith had managed to pause her assault, it seemed this wasn’t nearly enough to send her tumbling over. Heat continued to seep from the half-Galran’s skin, and a building sense of agitation made his muscles twitch. Even with the spiked quintessence flowing through him, wasn’t his strength enough? Keith snarled softly under his breath; his eyes flitted back towards Lance, suppressing the brunette’s voice in his head whining ‘ I told you not to drop your knife !’.

…Wait a moment. Where had Lance gone? The space he’d been leaning against the wall was now inexplicably empty.

Fuck. Fuck!! Keith attempted to slide across the floor and regain his distance, but a large hand swiftly clamped over his own, binding him to the fractured door.

“Hey now, what’s the hurry?” The General’s boot swung down, burying itself in the half-Galran’s stomach. She hoisted it back up – “That! Was! Pretty! Good!” – each word was punctuated by another stomp, as Azrith kept pounding into Keith like a gavel.

The ex-Blade’s insides felt like they were about to burst. His shoulder was screaming, unwillingly tethering his arm to the rest of his body as it was mercilessly drubbed deeper into the floor.

After an agonizing minute, Azrith’s boot finally halted mid-air. “Man, I guess I expected too much o’ you,” she sighed. “An’ after such a strong start! Y’know, I really thought the Qui-X would at least give us a few more minutes! Such a disappointment.” The Galran dragged her foot over Keith’s chest and began to gently press it against his throat. “Well, I’m sure the guys in the lab will appreciate the feedback, at least.”

The pressure on his windpipe increased, and Keith could feel his energy seeping away with each shallow gasp. His golden-hazed vision began to flicker– No…! I have to…hold on…!  –and he felt his consciousness slipping away into the darkness. 

I have to…win…

Keith’s head lulled softly to one side, prompting Azrith to relieve the pressure of her foot, if only slightly. She clicked her tongue, casting her gaze back over to the entrance. “Guess I gotta go find the other one agai– grk! ” The Galran hissed, glaring back down at the half-breed. His jagged teeth were latched around her ankle, shredding their way through leather and burrowing into her flesh. “What’s this? You’ve still got some fight left in you after…all…?” Upon closer inspection, Azrith noticed the boy’s glazed expression. Though others might have found it hard to tell, she could see that his yellow eyes were vacant, staring distantly at nothing in particular.

Abruptly, Keith wrenched his hand free from the General’s grip. He swung both arms wildly, shredding his claws through her meaty thigh. The half-Galran was no longer conscious, and yet his body continued to move on its own, fuelled purely by primal instinct.

“Feh, well this is an interestin’ turn!” Azrith scoffed, staggering backwards a few steps. She winced tautly; Keith had managed to take out her other leg, leaving both limbs too weak for any sharp movements. Before she could make another snarky comment, the boy clambered to his feet and pounced. His legs latched around the Galran’s torso, and clawed hands slashed with wild abandon. The air around the two was peppered with flecks of crimson, and Azrith held her arms up high to protect her face and neck. Keith was like a beast possessed, flailing his arms even as an armored elbow swung down at his head; a fist cracked against his jawbone. It wasn’t until the General gripped the half-Galran’s wrists and pried them away that the assault ceased. Even still, she felt the powerful flexes beneath her hands as Keith struggled fiercely – not trying to escape her hold, but to simply power on with brute strength. Azrith’s arms shuddered slowly inwards. Was he…winning?

“I…take that back,” the Galran grunted, twisting her body to slam the boy into the broken pod. She repeated the motion, the force enough to break Keith’s leglock, and flung him through the shattered door frame and into the steel barrel. “This isn’t interestin’ in the slightest! If I wanted to fight a mindless animal, I’d spar with one o’ the Skrel in the vivarium.”

Before the boy could get back up, Azrith pivoted around to the back of the pod, slamming her fist into the metal. Several more times, she pounded against it; large, hollowed dents formed beneath each of her punches. Then, splaying her fingers, she cleaved through the steel with toughened claws. A high-pitched screech filled the room as the General shredded the pod open like a tin can. Azrith peered through the jagged slits, before hissing angrily at what she saw – nothing.

“Come on, let’s not drag this out more than we need to!” She scoffed, circling back around to the chamber’s broken door. There was no trace of the half-Galran, other than a few splotches of blood – no doubt from his still-dripping nose. “…Where are you hiding?” Azrith muttered to herself, twisting her head around in search of her opponent.

PLIP!

Something hot and wet landed on the Galran’s cheek. Her thumb reached up to wipe it, and she glanced at the gloved digit. Blood . But where had it come from? Azrith’s eyes scanned the room more frantically, her wounded legs throbbing with each sharp turn of her body. She was quickly becoming fed up with this battle – after all, it was the Paladin that was going to earn her glory. Now that she had the whereabouts of Voltron’s Lions, killing the two intruders was supposed to be a swift wrap-up before she delivered the intel to Commander Tharys.

PLIP!

Another droplet landed on Azrith’s mangled pauldron. She glared angrily at the crimson splotch, unable to fathom how it had seemingly fallen from the sky. Well, not quite the sky…

…but certainly from above.

Azrith craned her neck upwards, her gaze finally landing on the missing half-breed. Keith didn’t react to being spotted; seemingly didn’t even notice. His languid form was draped over the same broken chamber from before, rising and falling slowly with each wheezing breath. The ex-Blade seemed almost catatonic, the trail of blood that oozed from his nose dribbling down his chin and mingling with the drool there.

PLIP!

It was pretty miraculous that he’d managed to clamber up there in such a state; that Qui-X really was some crazy stuff. The Galran made a mental note to await further testing before trying it out herself.

“Oi! You gonna sit there dead-faced forever?” She gripped the pod with both hands, shaking it as roughly as she could. The heavy iron bolts whined, but still kept the crumpled barrel secured to the ground – Azrith was strong, but even she had her limits. Keith wobbled in sync with the chamber, his head flopping limply about like a doll’s, but he somehow managed to remain affixed to his perch. 

A frustrated grunt left the General’s lips. The boy teetered above her, just out of reach, and her legs weren’t in any condition to climb up there right now. Sure, she could probably go deal with the human first – he couldn’t have gotten that far after being tranquilised. But she was more worried about losing track of the half-breed if she left the room. She would have to find a way to deal with him here and now, using whatever means were available…which reminded Azrith of something she’d picked up earlier. 

The Galran reached into her flank pouch, pulling out the glossy red bayard. Even she had to admit it was a beautiful weapon; sleek, light in the hands, but with a good heft to it. She’d heard from other Empire reports that the Paladins wielded powerful, transforming weapons, so now she just had to figure out how to activate it. Azrith rotated the curved metallic device in her palm, searching for some kind of button or trigger. The sterile overhead lights reflected off of its red-tinted surface, scattering bright spots around the room.

…Keith’s tail swished. The sight of the familiar object stirred something deep in his subconscious – just the mental jolt he needed. The half-Galran curled his legs up behind him, adjusting his footing like a cat would. Then, without a sound, he pounced. Keith’s teeth gnashed at the air, his claws sinking deep into Azrith’s shoulder. His fingers dragged through her armor, burrowing into her flesh and tearing, pulling, gouging at it.

“Oof, you nasty little monster!” Azrith growled, pounding her knuckles into his cheek over and over. She brought in the hand holding the bayard as well, slamming it into his forehead and splitting the skin clean open. But nothing could stop Keith’s rampage; he had become re-consumed by his savage instincts, no longer caring about self-preservation or strategy. All he wanted was to rip apart everything in front of him, and with his current strength, it was starting to become scarily plausible. However, it seemed that the last strike had at least caught Keith’s attention, as he finally relinquished his hold on Azrith’s shoulder and lunged for her weapon instead. 

Deceptively powerful fingertips pried at the General’s grip, desperately trying to wrench the bayard free. Azrith held on, jerking her wrist about in an attempt to shake off the half-Galran. He remained unfazed, bringing his face down closer to the action.

“ Quiznak! ” Azrith hissed, as Keith sank his teeth into her fingers. Finally loosening her hold, she swiftly flung the bayard across the room. The boy’s focus was dragged away, and he skittered behind the synaptic chambers after it. The Galran scowled sharply, looking down at her mangled hand. Skin, blood and leather mingled messily together, but she was relieved to find all five digits still attached. However, she’d now created a new problem – she’d just given the mutt a weapon. 

Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to look too hard for a weapon of her own. The Galran hobbled forward a few steps, scooping up Keith’s discarded dagger with her good hand. She easily recognised the Marmoran’s emblem, scratching at it with her thumbnail. A delicate, lightweight weapon like this wasn’t really her style, but it would have to do for now. Maybe if she could veer their battle back towards the examination room, she could nab something much better – yes, that seemed like the best course of action. 

Azrith steeled her focus, carefully peering past one of the occupied pods to watch the ex-Blade retrieve the bayard. In his hand, it let out a soft red glow, the shape of it pulsing and shifting into something new. The unassuming object transformed into a long, red sword – but not the same one that Keith had wielded many times before. The blade was curved and vaguely sickle-like, with a pale blue strip of light that ran along its edge. It pulsed with a soft energy, as if the very heartbeat of Voltron thrummed along with it.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Azrith felt her own heartbeat stutter along with it, unevenly. Each thump grew louder in her ears, as if she could feel the oppressive shadow of the Lions looming closer; all she could do was stand frozen and shudder.

Was this… fear ?

A blue streak sliced through the air, the Galran just barely raising the Marmoran dagger up in time to deflect it. Blinding sparks burst forth from the clash of metals, letting out a horrible shriek as Keith scraped against the smaller blade with the full weight of his body. How disgusting, Azrith thought, to allow herself to feel scared for even a moment. There was no room in her mind for such pitiful emotions; she would fight tooth and claw just like the half-breed, if she had to.

Azrith twisted her shoulder to the side, rolling the half-Galran off her weapon. The dainty knife was knocked from her grasp – a necessary sacrifice to create her perfect opening. Hoisting her leg up high, the General jabbed her knee sharply into Keith’s stomach, grinding her armored joint against his bare skin. From the bruising she’d put there earlier, Azrith was sure it had to sting. Yet the boy barely flinched, instead curling around the limb with his thick tail. 

“I…finally get it…” The General winced, her blaster wound compressed and constricted to the point that dark blood was squeezed through the coils. Then, she felt a sharp pull – Keith yanked Azrith forward, his sword perfectly poised in front of him, and pierced clean through her abdomen. Although it was quite off-center, even the instinct-driven half-Galran could tell that the puncture was decisive.

…And yet, Azrith’s cocky smirk seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I wasn’t willing…to risk it all. You were. It made you…stronger…”Shakily, the General wrapped her hand around Keith’s own – the one holding the sword that was still firmly lodged in her torso. Her other hand reached out, latching around his throat. She leveraged the two further apart, not allowing the boy to withdraw his weapon, and steered him backwards. With each shared footstep, Keith struggled to retract his sword from Azrith’s gut, refusing to simply let go of it. She pushed him by the neck, slowly, edging them closer to the examination room.

It had been so long since the Galran had received such a serious injury, but maybe that’s what made it necessary for her to have a moment of clarity. It was useless trying to evade the half-breed’s attacks – she had realized her mistake now. But with his sword embedded firmly in her flesh, the boy could be controlled. Azrith’s hold kept Keith’s weapon in place, and he lacked the sense to pull back or regroup right now – a one-track killing machine wasn’t so useful if you simply cut off the track. She’d become so used to winning every battle with ease, she’d forgotten what it was like to struggle against someone; to bleed. Even worse, she’d forgotten all about the thrill that comes alongside it.

“It’s…right there in the Empire’s Creed, y’know. Vrepit sah… in your tongue, victory or death…” Keith and Azrith finally passed the threshold of the examination room. Their blood-soaked forms contrasted starkly against the clinical, white walls. Another slow step. Another. She was edging them both closer to the table of tools she’d laid out to torture the Red Paladin. Hooks. Scalpels. High-energy lasers. Why had she been in such a hurry to kill the two intruders, anyway? She’d have much more fun pulling the purple mutt apart, piece by piece. But first came the more delicate part – removing the sword lodged firmly in her torso. “It’s  ‘bout time I showed you…the strength of my conviction.”

Azrith flung her palm from the ex-Blade’s throat, sticking out two fingers and drilling them into the crux of his shoulder. She gouged into his median nerve, causing Keith’s grip to involuntarily waver. The Galran seized control of the hilt, ripping it away from the boy’s claws. The bayard reacted to her unwelcome presence, its blade disappearing in a soft glow as it reverted back to its dormant form. Her abdomen gaped, letting out a wet squelching noise as her muscles contracted around the exposed tissue. Without pause, Azrith thread her free hand through Keith’s hair; it was sticky and matted with gore. To her wicked pleasure, the half-Galran’s features finally seemed to bloom softly with emotion. His eyes widened; his brow rose. But his gaze travelled past Azrith, beyond her broad form.

“…La…Lan…”

The General turned, a wry grin creeping over her lips. “Now there’s a face I’ve been missin’! What’re you hidin’ under that console for? Your buddy and I’ve been havin’ all the fun!” Looking a petrified Lance squarely in the eye, she gripped the dazed mutt’s scalp tighter, before slamming his head down into the operating table in the center of the room. The steely surface crunched beneath him, and as Keith was hoisted back up again, a torrent of red gushed from his mouth.

A deep sob bulged in Lance’s throat seeing his boyfriend like this, but he had to suppress it. He’d already experienced first-hand the way that Azrith thrived off of other people’s suffering. But Keith was…Keith was…

“Lan…Lan…”

…Keith wasn’t acting quite like himself.

Azrith discarded the bayard on her table of tools, then used her free hand to grab hold of the crumpled suit around the half-Galran’s waist. She heaved him high into the air, and then slammed him back down against the bench. The impact made the entire room quake – Keith practically bounced against the metal surface, before tumbling onto the polished floor with a pitiful thud.

“…L…La…A…” Despite the onslaught Azrith had subjected him to, Keith was yet to break eye contact with the Red Paladin. The Galran General may as well not have been there, because he had stopped reacting to her attacks the moment he noticed his boyfriend. Keith could barely see anything, his face no longer distinct under the thick layer of blood and hair, but still he dragged himself towards the lab console. 

“Keith, wh–! What happened to you…!” Lance bit his lip; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t guess. But still, something about the other boy was…off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone in there! I thought maybe I could…that I’d be able to find a blaster o-or something …but…!” Tears started to cloud the brunette’s vision; he felt so useless. He’d left Keith to face off against the monstrous Galran woman all alone; abandoned him. And he couldn’t even find one helpful thing to make it all worthwhile. He’d been so judgemental about Keith doping up on weird lab-grown quintessence, but what choice had Lance left him?

“…Lan…” 

A clawed purple hand rested gently on his knee, shaking Lance from his lament. The brunette hooked his own hand under Keith’s fingers, squeezing them gently. He was alarmed by the strength with which they squeezed back. “Whoa…I think that quintessence is still in your sys–“

K-CHK.

Lance froze. He recognised that sound easily.

“GUN!” He hissed through gritted teeth; he tried shifting his weight forward, but winced as white-hot pain rippled through his side.

The loud crackle of Azrith’s blaster cannon tore through Lance’s ears – but before he knew it, deft arms had scooped him up and dragged him across the room. The spot where they both sat next to the console only moments ago was charred black; a soft billow of smoke steadily flowed from the scorched wall.

“Wh-wh-what the hell was that?!” The Red Paladin squeaked. “You just got smashed into a table, twice! How are you moving like tha–!”

Lance was abruptly cut off by Keith’s warm palms pressing against his cheeks. “…Lan…ssssss…” the half-Galran’s head swayed and bobbed unsteadily; it seemed more like he was muttering to himself than actually talking to the brunette.

“God, you’re…kinda freaking me out now. You’re like a zombie…” Lance gently patted a hand against his boyfriend’s arm, craning his neck to check on what Azrith was up to. The Galran rested her weapon over one shoulder, clutching her stomach with the other. It definitely seemed like Keith had managed to land a few good hits on her, but that didn’t help with the fact that she was now aiming a gun at them in a very tiny room.

“Ah yes, now this is much better – so glad I brought it with me t’ the lab earlier.” The General straightened her posture, hauling her boot up to rest on the edge of the operating table. “But y’know…now that I don’t need information, this table’s really gettin’ in the way!” She pushed her foot hard against the metal, punting the benchtop across the room.

The bulky piece of furniture seemed almost flimsy beneath Azrith’s kick, and the steel frame tumbled wildly towards the two boys. Lance sank lower to the floor, hoping the table would somehow crash over the top of him, but then Keith– “Hey, what’re you doing?!” –draped his body over him protectively. The table collided with the half-Galran with a metallic pang, but he barely moved a muscle, his expression still as glazed over as it was before.

“Heh, I think I like this dynamic much better!” Azrith sneered, glaring at Lance from the gap under Keith’s widely spread arms. “All I have to do is attack you , and this one’ll take the hit like a big ol’ meat shield! Say, I wonder if he’s blaster-proof?”

Lance growled to himself – now he’d become an even bigger burden; a weakness to exploit. “Where did you even get your blaster cannon from? I searched this whole room for a gun!”

“…From the floor, right? I haven’t seen you standing since our encounter near the scrambler lab – looks like getting shot in the tummy made someone a little fragile!” The General’s tone was rich with mockery. “Besides, you think I’d leave important weapons jus’ lying around the place? No, this baby stays in a nice box on the veeeery top shelf o’ this cabinet. Prob’ly hard for you to even notice it up there!”

Lance cheeks burned with humiliation. He wasn’t strong enough to use any of the blades or needles on Azrith’s torture table against her. Sharpshooting was all he was good for, but he needed a gun for that – which had been right there, but his stupid, injured body couldn’t even get up and look for it properly. So, as usual, he’d just ended up leaving everything to Keith.

The half-Galran’s head slumped forward, resting heavily against Lance’s shoulder. His breaths were deep and ragged; like he could pass out at any moment.

…Actually, it sounded to Lance like he had already passed out. Was Keith sleeping?

“…Ssss…” 

“…Oh my god.” The brunette didn’t fully understand how, but it really seemed as though Keith’s body was moving by itself. How long had he been like this?

“Whew! The recoil ain’t so nice when your shoulder’s full o’ holes!” With her line of sight cleared, Azrith had no trouble lining up the barrel of her blaster cannon with the two boys. In her weakened state, she used her injured arm as a shooting rest, further stabilising her aim. “Oh well, I should only have to put up with it one more time.”

The Red Paladin’s eyes darted across the room; the end of Azrith’s weapon was rapidly flaring with violet sparks. “Crap, we’ve gotta move! Keith, y–“ Before Lance could finish his sentence, the half-Galran’s body jolted back to life. He wrapped both arms around his boyfriend and leapt to his feet. Skittering back the way they came, the bolt grazed narrowly past them. Keith’s tail curled over Lance’s head protectively, sheltering him from the flecks of rubble that sprayed over their backs.

The General growled with frustration, clutching her shoulder. She leaned back against the edge of the table of tools to catch her breath – it was clear that her injuries were finally beginning to take their toll.

Lance nervously scanned Azrith, noting her condition. It seemed like they had at least a moment to regroup before she’d attack again. He glanced back to Keith, watching him sway idly. He could feel his boyfriend’s bare chest pressed against him now; his skin was hot, almost feverish. This was quickly becoming a battle of attrition – the two Galrans seemed ready to drop any second now. Considering he could hardly even stand thanks to the dull throbbing below his ribs, Lance wasn’t faring much better. But putting aside the sheer absurdity of the situation, Keith’s behaviour still perplexed him; the half-Galran had been fighting Azrith just fine, though perhaps not very smartly, when the two of them first entered the room. But ever since he’d seen Lance, it was like he was frozen. The only time he’d seemed to actually do anything was…

“…Was when I told you to.” A revelation dawned on the brunette. For whatever reason, Keith wasn’t just resting or spacing out – he was waiting for instruction. Maybe that’s why the only word he seemed able to muster was his boyfriend’s name.

After losing consciousness, Keith’s limited cognition had only been capable of fixating on single targets. Azrith. The bayard. And now, Lance. Although the Qui-X had allowed his body to surpass its normal limits, he’d been left without a mind to drive it.

He was a powerful body with no cognizance.

On the other hand, Lance’s mind had recovered from the Galran’s tranquilliser, but he was still crippled by his wound.

“If we combine our capabilities…maybe we’d actually stand a chance.” The brunette whispered to himself, as if saying it too loudly would jinx them. He gently brushed Keith’s matted bangs from his brow, letting out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry…I’m the reason this whole mission’s fallen apart. All I had to do was keep a few guards distracted for, like, five minutes. But I’m never fast enough, or strong enough…never good enough. It’s my fault that you’re always having to pick up the slack. That’s why I’m gonna work harder; so you never have to protect me like this again.” 

“…Lan…ce…” The half-Galran crooned, leaning his forehead into the touch instinctively.

“Heh, alright! Enough moping – it’s time I stepped up.” The brunette paused. “But um…first, could you help me up onto the console?”

Keith wordlessly hooked his thumbs under the Red Paladin’s arms, hoisting him into the air and plopping him back down on the edge of the terminal. From there, he had a much better vantage point of the examination room.

“Lining the hyooman up for me? That’s awfully nice of you!” Azrith goaded, composing herself again. She heaved her cannon upright, still leaning the rest of her body against the table.

“You know, I’ve really had enough of listening to you!” Lance snapped, banging a fist against the desk. “The stuff you’re doing here, with those life-sucky chambers? It’s sick – it’s really sick! But you just love it, don’t you? Torturing other people…playing mind games; making them suffer!”

“Ooh, you tryna’ flatter me or somethin’?” Azrith jeered, shifting the weight of her gun slightly.

“Not at all! It’s Galrans like you that give the rest of your kind a bad name. The Marmorans – probably some of the Empire too, I don’t know – but not all Galrans are bad! You, though…you’ll never change, not even if the war ends. You’re rotten, right down to the bone!”

“Heh…any of this got a point?”

“Yeah; that it’s gonna feel real good watching my half-Galran boyfriend kick your ass.”

Azrith’s eye twitched. She squeezed her blaster cannon’s trigger, the barrel charging up another bolt of energy.

Keith will try and block it with his body again…I need to guide him! 

Lance quickly pointed to the mangled metal frame to their right. “Use the table! Deflect it!”

The ex-Blade swiftly hauled the metal bench in front of them, swinging it in time with the Galran’s shot. The blast ricocheted sideways, instead scorching a hole through one of the wall cabinets. Burnt scraps of paper fluttered unceremoniously to the floor.

The Red Paladin took charge, yelling orders without pause. “Quick, before she fires again – attack her!”

Keith stumbled forwards a few steps.

“N-not with the table! Put that down first; use your claws or something!”

The furniture clanged loudly as it was discarded. Unencumbered, the half-Galran surged forth with incredible speed. Azrith met his approach with the side of her gun, barricading it against herself. Yet it was no match for the boy’s deft swipes; an open-palmed strike pushed the blaster to one side, and hooked fingers tore into her thick neck muscles.

The Galran hissed with fury. How was it that the half-breed seemed even faster than before? It was like he’d somehow been re-energised…was this the smaller one’s doing? Azrith grit her teeth, pushing past the barrage of scratches – they were deep, but not enough to be fatal – and brought her blaster cannon upright again. Alone, the two weren’t anything special. But together? She hated to admit it, but she might actually be in danger.

The General lined Lance up in her crosshairs, but as she pulled the trigger, a sharp elbow rammed into her. The shot was thrown off-target, but Azrith didn’t relent, unleashing a rapid spray of follow-up blasts. Yet Keith wouldn’t allow even a single bolt of energy get past him; he used one arm to veer the barrel of the gun off-course, and the rest of his body to slam Azrith into the side of the table. She grunted as the edge grinded against her hollowed abdomen.

Azrith had wrongly assumed that the mutt would only defend the smaller boy if he gave the command – she still couldn’t understand their dynamic. “The hybrid is a mindless animal…A stupid, thoughtless beast that only knows how to take orders and follow his instinct! How does he still protect you?!”

“You don’t think…you don’t think love is an instinct?” Lance stumbled over his words; it felt scary to declare their shared feelings with such fervor. But that was exactly why he knew Keith would protect him…their love. And not just the romantic feelings that had blossomed over the last few months. Their love as friends. As rivals. As a shoulder to cry on during everything they’d faced together.

Lance’s instinct was to trust in that love.

“...Now! Grab a weapon off that other table behind her!” The Red Paladin yelled, seizing the lull in combat.

Keith scraped his fingers over the desk, latching onto the first object he could  – a thin, triple-pronged needle with some kind of liquid in its barrel. He jabbed at Azrith with it, the Galran jerking in all directions to evade him. But suddenly, she pivoted sharply. She looped both arms around Keith, the gun connecting her two limbs in a ring, and twisted against his wrist. The half-Galran grimaced, the pressure sure to snap the bone any second, and yet remained stubbornly tethered to his weapon. Just as before, his lack of cognition prevented him from tactically discarding it, even if that meant his arm would be broken.

“What are you doing, Keith?! Let go of the needle!”

…Of course, what had worked once before on the ex-Blade wouldn’t work again – not with the Red Paladin there to steer him. The one-track killing machine was branching out onto an endless network of pathways, and Azrith knew even she couldn’t stop them all.

That repulsive feeling was creeping back into her mind again. Fear .

“Try something with a blade, maybe?” The brunette proposed, watching as Keith scrambled for the bone saw to his left.

“You don’t scare me!” Azrith screeched, making Lance jolt sharply.

It’s the smaller boy. 

The Galran General raised her blaster and swung it like a pendulum, smashing into the back of Keith’s head.

The smaller boy made the larger one fight back again.  

Distracting him with the blow, she trudged forward, splattering blood across the floor with her frantic steps.

The smaller boy is the one coordinating their attacks. 

Azrith’s body moved with force and strength well beyond what should have been possible, given the severity of her injuries. Her suit, her face…everything was drenched in red.

If I simply kill the smaller boy…

From beneath it, a flash of white emerged – a toothy grin, pointed directly at the Red Paladin. Azrith raised her weapon yet again, this time with nothing standing in her way. Hot sparks flared softly in the barrel–

…Then I’ll win!

–but abruptly died out, as Azrith's arm was cleaved from her body. A thick jet of blood gushed from the stump attached to her shoulder, and the Galran staggered forward in shock. 

“But…I risked everything…

My conviction…was stronger…

So how…could I still …lose…?”

A wet slap rang out as she hit the ground, splashing blood over the brunette’s dangling feet.

Keith hovered over her watchfully, the bone saw still poised in the air right where he’d made the cut. Lance held his breath, leaning cautiously over the edge of the terminal to make sure the relentless woman wasn’t about to get back up again.

…Nothing. Azrith’s hulking form was sprawled flat, her wounds still bleeding out beneath her. The Galran’s formerly expressive face was devoid of emotion; her mouth hung lifelessly agape.

The brunette emptied his lungs with a long sigh. His whole body slumped forward with exhaustion; the physical and emotional toll of this mission had finally caught up with him. The adrenaline pumping through his chest slowly began to fade, giving way to a dull ache in his head.

He couldn’t even imagine how Keith must have felt, still on his feet despite everything. The half-Galran’s posture drooped, but he remained upright, waiting for Lance’s next instruction.

“Oh, Keith…” the smaller boy frowned, rubbing a thumb against his own temple. His fingertips brushed against the dried blood that was crusted around his dangling earlobe.

Perking up at his own name, Keith hobbled forward, obliviously stepping over Azrith’s corpse on the shortest route to his boyfriend.

“La…nnnn…” He still grasped the dripping blade idly.

The brunette gently wrapped both hands around his grip. “You can let go now. It’s over,” he whispered in a soothing voice.

The half-Galran’s palm gently slipped away from the weapon, relinquishing it to Lance. The other boy placed it quietly on the far side of the console.

“You did…you did so well.” Lance’s voice hitched in his throat, but he swallowed it back down again. Empty, yellow orbs stared at him blankly. “S–so you can rest now…ok?” The brunette’s smile was brittle, and fluttering eyelashes suppressed his glassy-eyed tears from spilling over.

“…an…sssss…” Keith trailed off, a peaceful expression washing over his features. His body slid forward, unable to hold itself up for a second more, and crumpled gracelessly to the floor. Lance winced at the heavy thump of his back hitting the surface.

It was no surprise that the half-Galran had collapsed as soon as Azrith was defeated. After all, the modified quintessence had allowed him to fight well beyond his body’s limits.

But at what cost… Lance mused, furrowing his brow with concern.

He wasn’t sure when Keith would wake back up, let alone what state he’d be in. While his injuries weren’t as bad as the Galran woman’s, it was hard to know what kind of repercussions the modified quintessence would have. Hell, maybe that wasn’t even the most pressing matter for the Red Paladin to worry about – he wasn’t exactly faring too well either. Lance clutched his side tenderly, blood continuing to ooze from the gory tunnel that Azrith’s fat finger had burrowed into him.

Before anything else…I have to stop the bleeding . Carefully, Lance eased himself to the edge of the console. He lowered his foot, nice and slowly, down to the ground. It felt slippery; slick with a thick coat of Galran fluids. Gently, he shifted his weight onto his knee–

“Ghk– Quiznak! ” The brunette grunted, jerking his limb back up as sparks of pain shot through his abdomen. While he didn’t seem to have a problem moving his legs, actually standing up seemed to be out of the question. “Great…what am I supposed to do now?” Lance chewed his lip, trying not to frown. He was basically confined to the terminal, slowly losing even more blood. His boyfriend was passed out for who knows how long. And that wasn’t even thinking about the mission.

Every time Lance thought that things were at finally their worst, life still found a way to prove him wrong. The brunette bit down harder, tasting metal. He curled his legs up to his chest, hugging them closer as a sob escaped his throat. He was tired. So tired . But whether or not he decided to give up, it still wouldn’t make any difference. He was still stuck on this damn Galran cruiser, and frankly, he and Keith probably weren’t making it out either way. At least if he could save his friends…it might have almost been worth it.

“…Huh?” Something damp and sticky had affixed itself to Lance’s cheek. With a sniff, he reached up and touched it. It was a thin strip of fabric coated with adhesive – a strong smell radiated from one side. “This is…this is the tranquiliser patch from before!” The Red Paladin gasped, peeling it from his skin. Just the stench made him feel slightly dizzy again, but he wondered if it could prove useful in his current predicament.

Gently twisting his torso, Lance delicately peeled open the tear in his suit. The material was soaked through, coating his hand with red, but he promptly ignored it. He took the white patch and pressed it lightly against his wound, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth. The sedative stung like disinfectant, but he thought maybe that was a good thing. He smoothed down the corners with his thumb, then leaned back expectantly. Crimson blots bloomed slowly beneath the white fabric – but then, they settled. It seemed as though Lance had managed to stifle the injury, at least for now.

He let out a shaky exhale. Nobody knew that he and Keith were still alive. There were no Galrans chasing them down hallways. Nobody shooting at them with blasters. This was Lance’s chance to carry his own weight for once  – he turned the console screen around, pulling it onto his lap. The synaptic chambers were all linked up to this room, so this system had to have some connection to the scrambler. It had to.

This was Lance’s chance to finish the mission.

Chapter Text

The pain hit Keith slowly, at first. A dull, quiet ache, pulsing through him just enough to be roused from the depths of slumber. The half-Galran’s consciousness drifted back like an ebbing wave, the dark murk over his senses lifting gently. He could hear the faint pattering of fingers on a touch screen; tasted the metal tang of blood on his tongue. Then, as he finally slid all the way awake, the pain rammed into him. The surface of his skin throbbed, as if every pore was being prodded and pried open with a hot needle. His muscles were excruciatingly tender, and each shallow exhale from his bruised lungs felt like it was being forced through a sieve. He’d been hurt plenty of times before, but not like this. Never like this.

Wincing as he rolled onto his side, Keith cautiously peeled one eye open. Even the delicate movement made him twitch with discomfort. Immediately, his gaze was locked with a pair of sallow golden orbs. It was the first time he’d ever seen Azrith’s expression look so vacant; so empty. Her squared jaw hung agape, exposing a mouthful of jagged teeth that glistened with flecks of crimson. Her breath was stale and putrid; it reeked of death.

“Ugh…” Keith groaned, scrunching up his nose in disgust. He gingerly tried to move away from the Galran’s corpse, managing to drag himself a few slow inches back despite the way his body screamed in protest. Struggling so much as to lift his head, the half-Galran’s pupils flitted around the room, feebly trying to orient themselves.

What the hell happened? Keith scowled to himself. His memories were a fragmented blur – he’d definitely blacked out at some point during his fight with Azrith. Yet somehow, a jumble of images from beyond that time drifted through his mind, almost dream-like. Images of flying sparks, the clash of blades; of wet flesh cleaved from bone. Images of Lance, smoothing a comforting hand across his forehead.

“…Lance…?” The ex-Blade rasped, barely louder than a whisper. He couldn’t see the Red Paladin from the ground, but when the gentle thrum of typing halted, his heart swelled just a little. A messy tuft of brown peeped over the edge of the console.

“ Keith!! Thank quiznak, I was worried you weren’t gonna wake up for hours…" The relief in Lance’s voice was palpable. He stared down at the half-Galran, exhaustion evident in the droop of his eyebrows. “How do you feel?”

Keith groaned feebly. “Like I’ve been fed through a trash compactor.”

“Hahah– ow .” Lance’s tinkling laughter was cut short, a hand quickly clutching his side. “…Shoot…”

“What’s wro– mmph!” Keith jerked upright with concern, the swift motion sending angry sparks down his nerves. Gulping back the pain, his wide yellow eyes scanned over the brunette; gaze swiftly drawn to the red splotches that bloomed beneath his bandage. “Y-you’re bleeding…”

“Ugh, yeah,” Lance muttered. “I thought I’d patched it up well enough...” He tugged at the corner of the blood-soaked plaster and gently peeled it from his skin, the sharp smell of iron tainting the air. Thick, dark liquid bubbled lazily from the wound.

Keith frowned. “What do you need? More bandages? I can do that.”

“Huh? No it’s…well I mean, I do , but I don’t think you should be mov–hey!”

Before Lance could finish protesting, Keith had already hauled himself upwards. Every joint and muscle throbbed under the weight of his body; the half-Galran gritted his teeth, trying desperately to ignore the feeling. Dizzy black spots swirled in his vision.

The brunette reached out from his perch on the console, clapping a palm over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Keith, please – you shouldn’t be pushing yourself after the whole Azrith thing.”

The other boy’s eyes narrowed, halfway between irritation and confusion.

“Don’t give me that face,” Lance groaned. He retracted his hand and began to pull on the bloodied glove, the fabric stretched taut. “I might not be able to walk around at the moment, but I can still look after myself over here. It’s you I’m worried about! You–“ the Red Paladin interrupted himself, using his teeth to tear off the sleeve of his suit. “ Mph! Yuck…” he muttered to himself, reacting to the taste. He wrapped the tattered fabric around his fist, using it to gently dab at his wound. “As I was saying,” he continued; “you could be seriously concussed, for one. You took a lot of blows to the head, y’know!”

“No, I really don’t !” Keith gave an exasperated huff. “I can’t remember what happened with Azrith. Maybe there are a few bits and pieces, but…everything after I took that quintessence is all a messed-up blur!” He paused for a moment, swallowing thickly. “I dunno what it…what it did to me, but I know that it made me feel really g-good.” Admitting as much made Keith’s skin crawl.

“I mean, Azrith talked about it a bit. Said it was called Kee-X or something? Pretty sure it was a ve–ry experimental stimulant. Honestly, you’re pretty lucky a little bit of memory loss is the worst of it. I’d ask what the heck you were thinking, taking some random drug you found, but…” Lance’s words trailed off, his free hand absently reaching for his split earlobe. He ran a fingertip down the torn flesh, feeling how the skin limply sagged away from his head. He knew exactly what Keith was thinking, when he gambled his life on a suspicious syringe…

…He was thinking about him .

“…Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m just…glad you’re awake.”

The half-Galran clicked his tongue. “When you put it like that, I guess it’s hard to argue.” He reached up to rub away the tension in his shoulders, but they were far too tender for the motion to be soothing. “I just hate not knowing what I did to make my body feel like it’s been hit by a truck.”

“I think Azrith could be described as pretty truck-like,” Lance scoffed, peering down at the General’s hulking form. “I mean, I only really saw the end of things. But at the very least, you were slammed into a table hard enough that you bounced , then had said-table thrown at you, then picked up the table, even though that shouldn’t be physically possible for you; what else…oh, you got knocked in the back of the head by Azrith’s blaster cannon, and y–“

“Geez, alright! I get the picture…” Keith groaned, feeling as though he could pinpoint the corresponding pain to each of Lance’s claims. “I guess I’m not so bothered about forgetting having my ass kicked. But I…I wish I could remember things before that. Like, I was in a holding cell – a guarded one, at that. How the hell did I get here?”

“Does it matter?” The brunette shrugged, pressing his glove firmer against his side.

“It does to me!” The half-Galran jerked his head away, ignoring how it made his neck twinge. He hobbled his way across the room, searching for something to stifle his boyfriend’s wound.

“Ugh, are you really–? Fine, hey! I think there should be some patches in a clear bag on the bench there. Try the left-hand side,” he finally conceded. Lance knew there was no point in arguing with Keith’s bullheadedness, and though he didn’t want to admit defeat, his makeshift compress wasn’t quite cutting it.

Keith hunched over the scattered array of tools and torture equipment, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He silently begged for something to leap out at him, for any sense of familiarity to return as he scanned the table, but even Lance’s gore-soaked bayard failed to spark more than an uncomfortably familiar pang of bloodlust.

Why do I know…this feeling?

Lance’s gaze lingered over the half-Galran’s bruise-mottled back; noticed the way his tail swished restlessly, the furry tip hovering an inch or two above the floor. It was hard watching Keith agonize like this. But the Red Paladin was becoming better at reading his boyfriend; in fact, he was pretty sure he knew exactly why Keith was so fixated on his lapse of memory.

“…You’re worried you did something bad, aren’t you?”

The ex-Blade’s shoulders twitched.

“Keith…” Lance gave a long sigh. “Even if you did something crazy – hell, even if you took out a guard or two on your way here – that doesn’t make you a bad person! We're literally fighting in a war. How many people do you think’ve died already? On both sides? I don’t really like it either, but…” the brunette fidgeted with his earlobe. “…at the end of the day, I don’t think I’d still be here if it wasn't for whatever you did.”

The half-Galran was quiet for a moment, until his hand slapped down on something thin and plasticky. He scooped it up, shuffling his way back to the other boy. Wordlessly, Keith finally halted a few inches in front of his boyfriend, his fingers twisting and fidgeting around the bag of adhesive strips. Then abruptly, he slumped forward, his head thumping gently against Lance’s collarbone.

“ Oof , hey! Too heav–“

“What about if I liked it…” Keith whispered, his voice nothing more than a thin rasp. “…Would that make me a bad person?”

“Wh-why would you even think that?” Lance stuttered, caught off-guard by the question. “You just said that you couldn’t remember anything!”

“Like I said, it’s bits and pieces…” Keith burrowed his head deeper into the brunette’s shoulder. “But I remember how I felt. I told you, I f-felt good! Really good! 

“How many times do I have to say this– Keith, you were high ! I’m not saying that as justification for violence, but what I am saying is that you weren’t your normal self. Thinking you like cracking skulls ‘cuz you got a bit of a buzz from some wacky quintessence doesn’t make you a sadist, alright?

“I liked…feeling strong. Felt like I could…do anything…”

Lance pinched his forehead – this conversation was making his head ache more by the second. “Yeah! That’s literally like, half your personality! Sparring with the castle’s training bot, practicing your blade techniques, working out…you like feeling strong.”

Keith’s head rolled to one side, glaring up at the Red Paladin’s clenched jaw.

“Maybe fighting an absolute beast like Azrith has skewed your perspective, but you are strong. Especially since your Galran side came out – I mean, look at your arms!” The Red Paladin gently patted Keith’s bicep for emphasis. “Pretty sure you could bench-press Pidge with these.”

Warmth quickly rose to the taller boy’s cheeks. “Not right now, I couldn’t – I feel like dogshit.”

“ Hwooooo– hey , don’t make me laugh again!” Lance smiled, suppressing his amusement with a long exhale. “Anyway, if you really feel that bad, you shouldn’t be wasting all that energy on sulking. C’mon, you gonna patch me up or what?”

“Oh, right–“ Keith jolted up from the brunette’s shoulder, fumbling with the clear pouch in his hands. “–I was supposed to be helping you , not the other way around…”

“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” Lance replied, watching the half-Galran pluck a handful of packaged white strips from the bag. “Besides, I feel like all you’ve done lately is help me. It’s nice to be able to return the favour a little!”

Keith hummed in soft assent, placing the plasters next to his boyfriend’s leg. What he’d said was true – he felt absolutely awful right now. Every slight movement or gesture made fresh pain course through his muscles. But being strong was a big part of who he was. Sure, there might always be someone stronger…but it was about who he was fighting for; who he was protecting . If it were up to him, he’d probably still be sprawled out on the floor. But for Lance? He could take on three more Azriths, if he had to.

Picking up one of the thin packets, Keith peeled open the flimsy foil wrapper. Immediately, his acute senses were assaulted by the cloying stench of sedative coating the sheet inside it. “Wait a sec, what the hell are these?” He sniffed the strip cautiously, scrunching up his nose.

“Well technically they’re respiratory tranquilis–“

Keith promptly jerked the sachet as far away from his face as possible. “Geez, you didn’t wanna maybe mention that first?!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds! The patches don’t actually knock you out or anything. They just, like…” Lance made a vague gesture with his hands. “…mellow you out a bit?”

“…didn’t you just lecture me about how dangerous Galran drugs were?”

“Wh–I’m still not suggesting you breathe them in!” Lance’s eyes bugged out. “Just that it won’t matter if you inhale a little bit. Look, all I know is that the material is pretty thick and sticky, and they’re about the only thing in this room resembling a bandage or plaster.”

Keith gave a sigh of relent. “Fine, as long as you’re sure it’s ok…c’mere.” His clawed hands gently reached for the tattered edge of Lance’s suit, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric tore a little wider, better exposing the deep gouge sitting just below his ribcage.

“Hey, careful!” The Red Paladin gasped, leaning over his wound. “Unlike you, I’d like to keep my top half covered , thank you very much.”

Keith clicked his tongue, moving more delicately as he pried apart another inch and a half of stitching along the suit’s seam. Plink! Plink! His sharp fingernails easily plucked the threads open, revealing more of Lance’s crimson-blotted torso.

“Hmm…Dunno if the plaster’s gonna stick to all this blood. You got anything to wipe it with?”

“Me? ” Lance shook his head. “If I did, I would have offered it to you ages ago.”

The half-Galran’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Can you really not fee– go like this?” The brunette mimed rubbing his face, then holding up his hand in front of him.

Confused, Keith mimicked the action. “…What the–?!” He grimaced, jerking away from his slick red palm. “I thought that was sweat!!”

“Seriously? Isn’t your nose hurting?” Lance scoffed in disbelief. “It’s gotta be broken.”

“ Everything’s hurting,” the ex-Blade whined. “I didn’t think anything of it!” Gingerly, his hand returned to his face, fingertips lightly tracing the bridge of his nose – the way it jutted to one side unexpectedly.

 A light chuckle escaped the Red Paladin, but was cut short by a wince. “Oof…this is a bit insane, isn’t it?” He pressed the tattered glove against his wound once more, reapplying pressure.

“Pfft– which part? Infiltrating the cruiser? Escaping capture? Or was it defeating Azrith by the skin of our fucking teeth?” Keith replied sardonically. “There’s gotta be something around here – a towel, a rag…” Hand still ghosting over his nose, he wandered back towards the other side of the examination room. “Oh, maybe it’s the part where we haven’t even disabled the scrambler yet!”

“Yes, okay! All of the above!” The brunette shook his head and shifted slightly, allowing one of his legs to dangle over the edge of the console. “Though on that note, I do have some good news about the last part. Uh, maybe, at least…I hope?”

“Oh yeah?” Keith didn’t turn his head, leaning forward over the metal table of tools again. “You could sound a bit more convincing about it.”

“Well it’s not like I know whether or not it’ll actually work, ” Lance chewed his lip uncertainly. “While you were blacked out, I’ve been trying to figure out what this console can do. Took a while with the 4 digit password, but there wasn’t a limit to how many attempts you could make – I ended up just kinda strong-arming it.”

“Mm-hmm,” Keith gave a distracted hum, as he rummaged through the equipment. It was all sharp, metallic and dangerous; nothing useful for cleaning up blood. But down one side, next to a tall steel cabinet, he spotted something. Was that a blaster case?

“Anyway, maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise considering what’s next door, but this computer controls the quintessence-sucky pods. ‘Course, you need some kinda special clearance code to actually turn them off. I‘ve been trying to guess it for like an hour, but I don’t think it’s the kinda password you can fluke…well anyway, that was just the back-up plan if you didn’t wake up.”

“Right…” the half-Galran frowned sheepishly. “…So uh, what’s the main plan, then?” He continued his search, hoisting the case onto the table and pushing the various tools out of the way. Un-clipping the two tabs along its side, he opened the lid. A deep crevice took up most of the inside, the perfect silhouette of Azrith’s blaster cannon.

“Well, something you can do with standard authorisation is power the pods down for maintenance. It gives you about a five-minute window, which unlocks the access control panel too. The scrambler will keep operating on residual energy for 8 minutes or so,” Lance tapped his finger against the monitor, which displayed a status feed of all the synaptic chambers. “But if we can short out their power source, they won’t be able to come back online and the scrambler will shut down.”

Wordlessly, Keith rummaged around inside the blaster case. Tucked neatly into one side of the foam-like lining, a pale sliver of fabric poked out. He eagerly plucked it out, unfurling the material in his hands and inspecting it.

“…Hey, you listening?” Lance tutted.

“Huh?” The half-Galran flipped the case closed again, pivoting back towards the brunette with the microfibre cloth balled up in his fist.

“I said… ” the Red Paladin glanced down at Keith’s hand, lifting his own away from his wound expectantly; “…we can probably shut down the scrambler! All we’ve gotta do is pop open the access panel, break a few components and– ghk !” Lance winced as the cleaning rag was pressed firmly against his side. “Gently, geez!”

“Sorry! But that’s…that’s great! You’re great!” Keith forced a smile; the exhaustion was starting to spread to his brain. It was all he could do to distract himself with tasks, to keep pushing through each moment and stave off the urge to collapse again. “You sounded so unsure earlier, but…I think we can do this. No – I know we can.”

Letting out a determined huff, he refocused himself on the job at hand. He blotted away the stickiness that dribbled from his boyfriend’s wound; with each slow drag of the cloth, Keith could make out just a little bit more of his light brown skin beneath the sanguine. “This sucker really just doesn’t want to clot, huh?” He mused, rubbing more vigorously. Once he was finally satisfied, the half-Galran reached for the opened bandage packet. He peeled away the adhesive backing, scrunching up his nose as the smell wafted from it even more strongly, and smoothed it over Lance’s side. He delicately pressed down the thin white edges, watching the soft red hue bloom underneath. “Hmm…I think this needs two bandages. At least .”

“Hey, thank you , I can do it!” The brunette waved him away with a playful hand. “Why don’t you try and clean up your face instead? I think this corner’s still good.”

Keith hesitated for a moment at the cloth held out towards him, before snatching it relentingly from the smaller boy. He rocked a little on his feet, before leaning in a little closer. “T–thanks,” he mumbled softly, planting a light kiss on the crown of his head. Even under the stench of iron and sweat, his soft brown curls still smelled of the same pine-lime shampoo that was just so inherently him .

“Heh,” the Red Paladin scoffed, peeling open a second plaster from the stack near his leg. “What was that for?”

“Hm, nothing in particular,” Keith gave a soft smile, quickly running the cloth over his face to conceal his rising blush.

“Wait…” Lance hurried to finish applying the bandage to his side, before reaching out towards the other boy with both hands. “…can I have another?”

Keith wordlessly stuffed the used rag into his pocket – he’d gotten off as much blood as he could – and slid his own hands forward, weaving their fingers loosely together.

Lance tugged the half-Galran towards him, craning his neck just enough for his mouth to brush against the bottom of the other boy’s chin. He parted his lips slightly, placing slow, delicate kisses along Keith’s purple jaw.

“Hnnn…” A deep sigh escaped the taller boy, and he tilted his head downwards to meet Lance’s own. His mouth dipped open, beckoning his tongue inside; feeling the familiar way it traced over his fangs. The kiss wasn’t like other times – it was drawn-out, deliberate. Keith could feel the way his boyfriend lingered on each motion, as if trying to savour it.

Lance looped his arms around Keith’s neck, gently pulling him lower. His palms smoothed along his back, travelling up to the nape and gripping the thick hair there.

“Mph!” the half-Galran hissed against Lance’s teeth. “Too tight…” he threaded his fingers between the brunette’s, extracting them from his mullet and pulling himself back upright. “S–sorry, it was just a bit t–ah! What’s wrong?”

A fat teardrop ran down Lance’s cheek. “Huh? Oh–!” His hand flew up to his face, rubbing away the offending droplet. “I–it’s nothing. I’m f-f-fine, really!” His quivering lip betrayed the emotions that threatened to bubble over, and his other hand quickly sprang up to cover his expression.

“Hey, please…please don’t cry.” Keith’s eyebrows creased with concern. He reached out cautiously, placing a gentle palm on the Red Paladin’s shoulder. He flinched slightly, but didn’t move away. “I um, I didn’t mean to upset you! You were just pulling my hair a bit too hard, it was hurting.”

“No, ugh…it’s not that, I just…” Lance pressed his fingertips into his eyelids, as if trying to force the tears back in. “…I’m just so tired, y’know? I wish we could just stay like this for a bit longer; pretend that we weren’t stranded on an enemy ship, without a communicator, or an escape plan…I just wanna kiss you, and hug you, a–and just be with you . I want it so bad it makes my chest hurt.” He paused, giving a quiet sniffle. “But we don’t…we don’t have any more time.”

Keith’s shoulders drooped, his hand trailing gently down the brunette’s arm. “There’ll be more time, I promise. I mean, what about what you told me back on the Castleship?”

“…Huh?” Lance squinted.

“You said that we’d visit your family in Varadero, remember? Something about trying your mum’s – quote – uh-mazing cooking?”

“Tch! I did, didn’t I?” He scoffed with disbelief. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Keith smiled gently, raising his thumb to wipe away a lingering teardrop from the brunette’s cheek. “So c’mon, let’s hurry up and shut down this scrambler. Then we can go home .”

“Yeah, sorry…you’re right,” Lance nodded. Sniffling away the last of his tears, he leaned around to the computer console again. 

Pulling the keyboard into his lap, the Red Paladin began furiously tapping away. Keith watched as various commands popped up on the screen, dense with technical information that didn’t really matter to them.

“And…ok, here we go!”

A warning message appeared on the screen in Galran and common – WARNING: Synaptic chambers will be offline for five minutes. This operation cannot be cancelled. Proceed?

“Now, I don’t know exactly where the control panel is,” Lance looked at Keith expectantly. “You should go to the other room so you can listen for when it unlocks. I’ll give you a countdown!”

“Gotcha,” The half-Galran affirmed, pivoting on the spot. He walked back towards the pods, eyes scanning over the walls for an obvious box or door panel. Towards the back of the room, a faint glint caught his attention.

“You ready?” Lance called, pausing for a few seconds. “Alright…Three! Tw–“

“ Wait ! Just wait a tick!” Keith yelled back frantically, staggering towards the reflective object. Too stiff to bend down for it, the ex-blade allowed his tail to wrap around the Marmoran dagger’s handle, scooping it up from where it had been haphazardly discarded during his battle with Azrith. He slid the bloodied knife into his palms, feeling a slight tension in his shoulders lift at the familiarity.

”Everything alright?” The brunette replied, irritated by his inability to investigate.

Keith ducked his head back through the doorway, waggling his blade towards the other boy. “Yeah, all good. Can’t believe I almost lost this!” He clenched his jaw resolutely. “I’m good now, go ahead.”

“‘Kay,” Lance affirmed, his eyes drawn to the messy flourish of Keith’s hair as he disappeared back into the pod room. “Starting maintenance cycle…now!”

The half-Galran heard the tinny pop! of a metal door unlatching, and the faint amber glow of the pods dimmed with a stutter. His narrow pupils darted about, searching for anything slightly ajar. Keith paced around the backs of the chambers, scanning their bases and inspecting the full length of their steel plated barrels. He traced the grey tubing that ran from their tops, following them right down to where they converged in one corner and disappeared into a vent-like hole just below his knees. He could definitely tell all were components that made the synaptic pods function, but none of them screamed ‘important’ – nor did they look anything remotely like the control panel he was supposed to be looking for.

”Hrghh…” Keith groaned, leaning backwards and dragging his palms down his face. The metallic handle of his dagger was refreshingly cold against his forehead.

“You okay in there?” Lance shouted. “I hear grumbling.”

“I can’t find the stupid panel!” Keith snarled back, his eyes snapping open. “ I mean, it’s for maintenance, right? So why the hell would they make it so difficult t– ah .”

With his head still tipped upwards, he spied a small silver square hanging loose. The only problem was that it was on the ceiling – a good fifteen feet or so above him.

“...Did you…find it?”

“Yeah…” Keith grunted. “Just give me a minute, I have to um…get to it somehow.” He moved towards the third pod in the row, which was closest to the panel.

“Uh, sure! Let me know if I can do anyth–I mean, let me know how it goes!” Lance shifted his hips listlessly, frustrated by how useless he felt. The numb tingle in his legs only seemed to be worsening.

The half-Galran leaned his chest against the metallic barrel, glaring up at the control box as if it were taunting him. He had to assume that the maintenance workers used a ladder to reach it, but he had no such luxury. Keith tucked his knife into the crumpled pocket of his suit, and smoothed his palm across the silvery surface. Then, flexing his fingertips sharply, he sank his claws into the metal with a high-pitched whine. Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, he twisted his wrist and tugged. The grey sheet warped under his grip, small tears peeling together into one gaping hole in the steel.

Keith rolled his shoulder uncomfortably, before repeating the process a few more times, as high as he was able to reach. After placing a final puncture just below the top of the chamber, he took a few steps back to review his work.

…Maybe Lance had a point, the half-Galran mused. Guess I’ve gotten pretty strong after all.

Not wasting anymore time, Keith wedged a foot into one of the carved slots. His hands each delicately grappled another hole and, bending his elbows, he yanked himself upwards. The sharp movement made his biceps twinge, but he suppressed the feeling. He didn’t have time to slow down or take it easy – after all, the hatch would probably lock itself again in about three minutes.

Heaving his way up his own makeshift ladder, Keith finally reached the top of the pod. He kneeled on the curved silver dome, awkwardly spreading his arms as he searched for a comfortable foothold. A sturdy metal prong stuck out of the centre, and he curled his tail around it like a lifeline. Feeling a bit more settled, the half-Galran’s eyes darted up, focusing intently on the access panel.

Readjusting his feet beneath him, Keith stretched upwards. One, two metres higher; he extended out his arm as far as he could. His shoulder muscles strained, fingernails just scraping against the metal door, but the ex-Blade couldn’t close the difference. He huffed – he was so close . All he needed was a few more centimetres. Reaching down to his waist, he retrieved his dagger, before swinging upwards again like a pendulum. This time, the tip of the blade was long enough to snag the silvery edge, and the door flicked open with a hollow pang.

“Ah–!” Unfortunately, he’d swung with too much vigor, and it was all Keith could do to scowl as his dagger slipped from his grasp and clattered loudly against the concrete floor. His gaze flitted back up to the opened panel, scanning across the thick tangle of cables and tubing. Even if he went and fetched his weapon, the distance was clearly too great for him to do any real damage to the hardware. He needed something more…he needed…

“Lance!” The Galran’s head ducked back around the corner, catching the brunette off-guard.

“H-huh? Did you do it?” His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I was expecting you to be a bit…louder, maybe?”

Keith shook his head. “N–no, not yet. I need your height.”

“ My height?” Lance tipped his head quizzically. “I’m not sure I’m followi–” The loud click of a latch interrupted him; five minutes had passed with barely a blink. “...Ah. Hold on, I can run the maintenance cycle again.”

“Wait, just let me–let me explain.” The ex-blade waved his palm in front of him. “The panel’s on the ceiling. Like…way up there. If I climb on top of one of the chambers, I can just about reach it, but…”

“...If you can’t reach it, what makes you think I stand a chance? And like this ?” He gestured to the blood-speckled bandage at his side. “There’s no way.”

“...On my shoulders.” Keith’s eyes locked onto Lance’s. “You’re gonna sit on my shoulders.”

“Are you serious?!” The Red Paladin groaned, though he already knew the answer perfectly well. It was just one last push, he told himself. If they shut the scrambler down, the Kalkaran fleet can mobilise. The turrets can start chipping away at the blanket of Galran ships. And maybe whatever was blocking the connection to their Lions would be broken, too. If he could just reach out to Red…they could finally– “…Fine, turn around,” he sighed in relent. 

The half-Galran swivelled on his heel, crouching just below the height of the desk. With a soft hiss, Lance slid forward, looping his left leg over his boyfriend’s shoulder. He tried to bring his right leg up the other side, but struggled to lift it high enough, the muscles in his hip twinging painfully.

“I…I can’t. Can you help?”

Keith nodded, pushing Lance’s knee over his collarbone in a swift motion.

“Mmph! Th-thanks…” Lance winced, stifling his discomfort. He knew there was no avoiding the pain, but he at least appreciated Keith’s bandaid-like approach.

“Alright, you good?” His purple irises shot a glance back at the smaller boy, assessing his position. Satisfied, Keith began easing his weight forward. “…Aaand up we go!”

Needle-like fingers suddenly latched around the top of his head, and a meek yelp leapt from the brunette’s throat. Keith hid his smirk, rising back to his full height and giving a small jostle to adjust Lance’s weight on his shoulders.

“B-b-be gentle!!” The brunette stuttered.

“That was gentle,” Keith scoffed. “C’mon, let’s set up another maintenance run. The sooner we do that, the sooner you get to come down.”

“Yeah, yeah…show me the keypad.”

Lance instructed his boyfriend on how to repeat the sequence, bringing them back to the final warning screen with a few quick taps. Exchanging a wordless nod of reassurance, Keith initiated the 5-minute window once more. Now on the clock, he turned away from the console and trudged back to the pod-filled room. Even though his body still felt heavy with fatigue, the half-Galran marvelled at how light and delicate Lance felt against his sloping shoulders.

“Phoooo…” the Red Paladin let out a shaky breath. “I feel so high up – like I’m on one of those drop rides at the carnival.” His whole body wobbled with each of the ex-Blade’s plodding footsteps.

“Would you like it if I dropped you?” Keith smirked darkly, tightening his hold on his boyfriend’s thighs.

“I’m not even dignifying that with an answer,” he scoffed back. Lance gripped Keith’s shoulders tensely as he clambered back up the hole-riddled chamber. 

Reaching the top, the taller boy struggled to pull their combined weight over the lip of the pod. He sunk back lower, before surging forward with enough momentum to haul himself past it. Lance cursed under his breath at the sudden jerk.

“We’re up…” Keith exhaled.

“Thank quiznak...” The brunette groaned back. “So it’s that rectangular panel up there, right?”

The half-Galran nodded. “I barely managed to flick the door open last time, but with you up here to help, I think we’ll be able to gut the whole console. We wanna do enough damage that it’ll be impossible to get the  scrambler up and running again.” 

Widening his gait for stability, Keith gingerly rose to his maximum height. He felt Lance’s ankles clamp around his waist nervously. “ Ow ,” the ex-Blade grunted.

“Sorry,” the Red Paladin loosened his legs slightly. “I know I said I was high up before, but that was nothing! I’m gonna crack my skull open if I fall from here.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not gonna fall,” Keith patted his boyfriend’s knee reassuringly. “Now, d’you wanna borrow my blade or what?”

“N-nah, I think my fingers are enough.” Lance refocused himself, eyes darting back to the silvery access door. He stretched out his arm, tracing the sharp edge of the panel with his fingernails. Pressing his other palm against the ceiling for stability, the brunette hooked beneath the lip of the door, flicking it open with a twist of his digits. The thin sheet of metal rattled loudly, piercing the anxious hush that had settled over the two.

Lance’s sharp eyes scanned over the inside of the control box, taking in the complex tangle of switches, wires and nodes – several of them blinked softly, like the digital pulse of the scrambler. He ran a careful thumb along one of the connector strips, picking at its edges. He could already tell that everything was bolted in tightly.

“I think we’re gonna need a bit more destructive power to take the pods offline,” the Red Paladin mumbled.

Keith gazed up as best he could, taking in the smaller boy’s observations. However, before he could reach down for the Marmoran dagger he’d collected earlier, a red light flashed across his vision.

Lance squeezed his summoned weapon firmly, a small smile pinching at the corners of his mouth. It felt good to hold his bayard again. His grip shifted slightly, giving way as it transformed into a chunky ion pistol.

“‘Kay, so after I shoot the control box…well, I expect the Galra will come running,” the Red Paladin gnawed at his lip. “We just need somewhere to hide for a few minutes – long enough for the Lions to reach us.”

Keith nodded warily – would the other Paladins even realise how dire their situation was? No, surely Pidge and Hunk would realise that much. So long as the Lions came back online fast enough… “…We can hide in one of the pods. I’m sure they won’t think to check inside straight away.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Just um…sorry, you gonna be ok carrying me?”

“‘Course,” the half-Galran squeezed Lance’s thigh reassuringly. “I’m ready when you are.”

The brunette took a deep breath to steel himself, then carefully wedged his gun between the tangled electrical cables. His trigger finger twitched with anticipation and then – cautiously, apprehensively – he squeezed.

K–TAAAANG!!

The entire ceiling shook from the blast. A hailstorm of sparks sprayed over the two, and Keith felt his footing wobble. Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss. Thick white smoke poured out of the control box, and the ex-Blade was thrown backwards. He felt the smaller boy slip from his shoulders.

Fuck! Fuck!!! Keith contorted himself in the air, desperately grabbing at Lance’s ankles. His clawed fingertips scraped along his leather boot, failing to latch on. He felt his stomach lurch with panic.

Lance’s back hit the floor first. It made a deep slapping sound, like a wet paintbrush on cement. Keith barely caught the way his head threw itself dangerously backwards before he felt his own body collide with the ground, legs crumpling in on themselves like tin cans. The half-Galran did all he could to suppress a scream as he felt something pop in his hip.

Pain flooded into Keith, surpassing the capacity he thought he’d already reached. His leg wasn’t broken, but twisted strangely, out of place. No – dammit, he didn’t have time for this. He balled up his fist, grinding it against the joint until he felt something slip back into place. He wheezed, but finally felt the stabbing sensation cease. Then, he finally glanced over towards his boyfriend. Lance was sprawled out flat on his back, his chest rising and falling at a concerning rate.

“C’mon…Lance,” Keith crawled closer, his eyes scanning up and down nervously. “We’ve gotta hide…the Galran soldiers are gonna know we broke their machine.”

The brunette didn’t acknowledge him; eyes scrunched tightly closed, his lips twitched slightly as if mouthing something. The half-Galran leaned in closer, just barely  making out a single-word mantra.

“… Please….Please…Please...”

He sighed flatly – while it was a relief that Lance was conscious, Keith had his concerns for his current cognitive state. He wedged his arms under the Red Paladin, his elbow quickly becoming sticky with blood as it supported the brunette’s limp head. Distantly, the patter of feet rumbled through the halls.

“ Laaaance ,” he groaned. “I just need you to- to sit up a bit…” The last of Keith’s energy had finally been sapped away. His limbs were heavy. But he had to keep going – the footsteps were growing closer.

Keith dragged his boyfriend towards the nearest pod, his trailing feet smearing two bloody lines from the puddle behind them. The half-Galran scrunched up his nose, hoping it had already been there from his fight with Azrith. Reaching the amber-tinted door, Keith propped Lance against his knee. He used his free hand to reach across and tug at the handle.

K-thnk.

K-thnk.

K-K-K-K-K-!

He rattled the door aggressively, but it refused to budge. Keith’s lilac cheeks flushed a dark and angry shade of red. It seemed like destroying the control box hadn’t actually disengaged any of the locks on the chambers. Their only option was one that had already been opened.

…The ground shuddered dangerously.

“Come…on…” The ex-Blade rasped, hooking his hands beneath the smaller boy’s armpits. He mustered just enough strength to hoist Lance upright, slinging the brunette’s arms around his own neck. “Lance, please…I just need you to hang on, ok?”

Although the Red Paladin’s mutterings continued, Keith felt biceps clench a little tighter around his collar. Hugging his own arms around his boyfriend’s waist, he awkwardly staggered back towards the one pod he knew wasn’t locked – rather, he knew the lock had been irreparably mangled in the chaos of his recent fight. He felt his hip click slightly with each plodding step, but pressed on with urgency as Galran chatter echoed through the steely walls. Keith knew that the guards had to practically be on top of them now, each stride becoming a little more desperate, more strained, until–

“ Ghk! ” Keith gasped painfully between gritted teeth, pain sparking up his nerves. His knee buckled under the sudden weight, and both he and Lance tumbled forward. The spattering of orange-tinted glass crunched beneath them, but the sound was swiftly drowned out by the mechanical slide of a door.

At least half a dozen broad-shouldered soldiers stomped into the room, yelling amongst each other in a blend of Galran and common. Keith struggled to catch the few words he knew – ‘intruder’, ‘found’, ‘Commander’…none of it boded particularly well for them.

“… Ah! ” Lance’s eyes jolted open, though one of them remained forced into a half-droop by the bruise blooming from his eyebrow.

Keith hurriedly pressed a finger to the brunette’s lips, shushing him. He barely reacted, murmuring around the digit.

“She heard me…she’s coming– ” Lance’s eyelids fluttered groggily. “–‘s gonna be…o…kay…”

“Wh–hey, don’t pass out on me!” The half-Galran hissed, grasping the boy’s cheeks between his palms and shaking. He felt something cold press against his temple.

“So you’re the ones who’ve been causing all this trouble…” the voice behind him spoke in an unnervingly calm manner, but it couldn’t mask the venom with which he ground the gun stock against Keith’s skull. 

Not daring to turn his head, Keith’s slit-like pupils darted to one side. He couldn’t quite make out the figure behind him, but he knew . There was no mistaking the imposing aura pouring off the deep-voiced Galran – this had to be Commander Tharys himself.

“To think two pathetic little gresh like you could wreck the synaptic units so spectacularly – hah!” The Commander scoffed menacingly. “The engineering department have a lot to answer for. Patrol, too…though it looks like you were nice enough to reprimand the General for me already.”

Keith’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He remained frozen in fear, hands still loosely pressed against Lance’s skin. He felt powerless – he was powerless…was there anything left that he could do? He swallowed dryly. “What…what about us then?” Keith daren’t look the gun-wielding Galran in the eye, squaring his jaw as he continued. “The Kalkarans will be here soon. So will the Paladins of Voltron – you…you won’t get away.”

“Heh, maybe…maybe not,” Commander Tharys snorted, seemingly unfazed by the threats. “Unfortunately you won’t get to find out, what with your brain matter decorating the walls.”

The gun stock was drilled deeper into Keith’s head, and he heard the telltale whistle of an energy beam growing inside the barrel. He clamped his eyes shut and squeezed Lance tighter.

—GWOOOOAAARRRRR…!!

The entire room shook as a distant howl reverberated through the metal walls. The soldiers all turned their heads about in confusion. Even Tharys paused, his brow creased with concern.

“…What on Daibazaal was th–“

A high-pitched screech rippled through Keith’s bones, and the silver panels surrounding him suddenly began to warp and twist. He felt the weapon lift from his temple, the Galran Commander pivoting at the commotion. The half-Galran jerked his head backwards, watching the ceiling bow abruptly inward. Before any of the soldiers could react, the far left wall was punctured by long, silvery claws that effortlessly tore through steel and sentry alike. Orange glass sprayed in every direction as the synaptic chambers were reduced to shrapnel.

As the claws withdrew, a purple-tinted bubble bulged over the gashes – some sort of atmospheric safeguard, Keith assumed, though he still felt the ship’s stuffy air being replaced by the frigid vacuum of space. Goosebumps prickled down his bare skin, but it wasn’t for long – the mystery assailant rammed its paw back into the pod room and swiped blindly at the Galran soldiers.

Lance jolted suddenly in Keith’s arms, causing the ex-Blade to drag his gaze back downwards. As if in total opposition to the carnage before them, the Red Paladin beamed. A frail rasp escaped his lips, barely audible over the pattering gunfire and scraping of metal.

“ Red…”