Chapter Text
Ugh.
Kethe had known something was off when he went to bed yesterday, but he had expected that a good's night rest would deal with it. Instead, when he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, he quickly determined that he was worse than when he'd gone to sleep last night. His fur was damp with sweat, unbraided hair clinging to his back. He could barely even feel his tail, which hung limply behind him, just as unmotivated as he felt.
Placing a hand against his forehead, uncertain of why he was doing it, Kethe's lips twisted into a frown. He felt... warm, warmer than he should. Slumping back in his bed, he racked his brain, trying to think of what could have caused this. Yesterday's mission had been a normal one- they had liberated a planet, he'd lurked behind in the red lion while the other paladins played diplomat, Hunk had snuck him some food from the celebratory banquet...
Jolting to awareness, he sprung to his feet- and instantly regretted it, his vision spinning. Grunting, he clutched the wall, managing to brace himself with it before he completely fell over. Drawing in a haggard breath, Kethe took a step forward, stumbling on uncertain feet. He hadn't been this graceless since the addition of his tail, but he forced himself to move forward, trying to still the pounding of his heart.
Had he been poisoned? That was the only logical explanation for what was going on now. He didn't think Hunk would feed him poisoned food, so it must have been slipped into the food beforehand.
Pressing his hand against the door panel, he stumbled out, wincing at the bright lights of the corridor. For them to be this bright, it must have been well into the day cycle- just how long had he slept? Shaking that thought off, he tried to focus, which proved far harder than it should. If he'd been poisoned, had the other paladins been affected? Or was it a targeted attack against him? Racking his brain, he tried to recall if there had been any rumors about there being a Galra paladin, but couldn't recall any.
He had to... he had to get to the med bay. No, first he had to- was everyone else okay? Galra were hardy, he didn't know how the human immune system would take to poison. Would it even have an effect? What about the princess?
"Keith?"
In his half dazed state, his human name barely registered with him- it was only when the person who called out to him repeated it, that he realized he was being spoken to. Slowly turning his head, he squinted, trying to recall who this person was. Eyes falling on the prosthetic arm, he slowly blinked. Right, this was the... this was Shiro, the black paladin. Voltron's leader.
"Shiro?" Kethe ventured, his voice weak.
He seemed fine, so maybe he hadn't been poisoned? Maybe it was just him, then.
(Better it be just him.)
There was a rush of concern in those human features of his- the ease with which he had picked up reading human facial cues was perhaps a hint that he used to be one himself. They weren't like the Galra, who were stoic as a general rule, instead possessing animated expressions and large reactions. Regris had once told him that he expressed himself similarly, but he didn't know if that was true or not. Whatever the case, Shiro was by him in what felt like seconds. Bracing his shoulder with his prosthetic hand, he reached out with his human hand, brushing it under his bangs and pressing it against his forehead.
And then let out a long sigh, almost sounding exasperated. "You're sick, aren't you?"
Blinking, Kethe peered up at him. Maybe Regris was right, because the human picked up on his puzzlement right away.
Sick? He knew the word, he just didn't expect it to be applied to him. He had been taught a lot about Galra during his time with the Blade of Marmora. Few pathogens had any effect on them, so a sick Galra was cause for outright panic. He was just about to convey that when his own mouth and nose betrayed him, expelling air and some kind of strange substance. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, he must have looked as panicked as he felt, because Shiro moved to brace him with both hands now.
"I'm guessing Galra don't sneeze." He observed, a wry smile on his face.
Kethe stared up at him, his brow furrowing. "Sneeze?"
"What you just did." Shiro told him. "Come on, let's get you to the med bay. Do you want to lean on me? No offense, but you're pretty unsteady on your feet."
Kethe didn't fight it, instead letting Shiro loop one of his arms around his shoulder, using his hand to brace his waist. It made walking easier, if not embarrassing. He hadn't been babied like this since Ulaz had first rescued him.
"Is sneezing a human thing?" Kethe ventured, feeling his panic subside a little at the casual way Shiro was treating this. It was easy for him to forget sometimes, easier than he'd like to admit, that he was also human.
To what degree still, he didn't know.
"Yeah, pretty much." Shiro told him. "I'm guessing you caught a cold."
Kethe frowned at that. "But I'm not cold?"
"Lava lamps." Shiro said- it took a moment for it to click, his head swimming.
Oh. Just a name, then.
There was something reassuring, he thought, about the paladins not having all the answers about Earth. That he knew nothing about the planet that he had been born and raised on bothered him more than he wanted to admit, feeling that he should at least have those memories, if nothing else. But if the witch had wanted to reprogram him into a loyal solider of the empire, like he suspected she did, he wouldn't have needed them.
Earth was one aspect of his past that he felt comfortable talking about- to a degree. He still didn't know what a Galaxy Garrison was, nor a foster system, all phrases that he had heard mentioned but realized connected in some deeper way to who he was before. He should, some part of him knew. It had been two months since he had started living on the Castle of Lions- again- and he couldn't keep avoiding the subject forever. Admitting to Allura that he didn't remember what it was like to be human had been a significant step, but since then he had made no further efforts to open up, nor to ask.
Eventually, he thought, they'd run out of patience with him.
"Keith?" Shiro's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You kind of went quiet there."
"I- yeah, just thinking." Kethe told hm.
Shiro didn't press- if there was one thing he had come to understand about the black paladin, it was that he had a seemingly infinite well of patience.
(Unless he was dealing with Slav, but that he could understand.)
"Well don't get too lost in your own thoughts." Shiro told him. "We're here, by the way."
Glancing up, Kethe realized with a blink that they were. He must have zoned out more than he thought. "I- thanks for bringing me here."
He had to avert his gaze, unable to help but feel like the fond smile directed towards him wasn't actually for him. He didn't need to ask to know that they had been close, before- like brothers, he had already heard one of the paladins let slip. Hearing that had stung. He couldn't imagine how it must have felt to have someone you thought family completely forget about you, but that was exactly the situation Shiro was in. He had tried to remember after that- but all it got him was a headache. To him, Shiro was still just someone he'd met only two months ago- someone he had come to respect as a leader, but didn't think anything more of.
Even though he should. And the guilt was overwhelming.
"Come on, let's get you settled." Shiro's voice broke him from his thoughts once more, and he bit his lip, hoping that he didn't notice him sinking into them again. "I'm pretty sure you just have a cold, but I'll get Coran just in case."
Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to navigate him to an exam table, helping prop him up on it, careful of his tail. He didn't care for being in the med bay, but it wasn't as bad as it had once been. It was so strange, being traumatized by something he couldn't even remember.
"Wait here." Shiro told him. "I'll be right back."
Watching him go, Kethe merely glanced down at his hands, clawed and purple, and wondered if he'd ever stop feeling like an imposter.
"Ah, Number Four!"
Startled, Kethe snapped to attention. He must have zoned out again, he dimly realized. He wasn't sure for how long- long enough for Shiro to find and fetch Coran, at the very least. Gaze flickering towards him, he didn't miss the way he didn't catch it- not that he could blame him. He knew it was hard for them to pick out just what he was looking at. They weren't used to eyes like his, without any discernible pupil and it was extremely weird to think that he'd once had them.
"Number One here tells me that you're feeling a bit put out." Coran's voice was calm, but it didn't do much for his nerves.
Shiro might not have acted like it was a big deal, but for him, being sick still equaled dying. Clearly it was different for humans, but how much of him was still human, really?
"That's one way of putting it." Kethe mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I feel like I'm burning up."
"I'll be sure to give you something for fever, then." Coran noted. "Might I take your temperature?"
Lowering his hand, he nodded his head. Watching as the Altean man worked out of the corner of his eye, he didn't fail to notice how he never quite left his line of vision. It reminded him of his first time here- how he had always made an effort to be seen. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that it was being done for his benefit.
Coran was... different than Allura, he thought. In a lot of ways, but most markedly in his attitude towards him. They had met before, of course, when he had first been brought to the castle-ship with Kolivan and Antok, but it had been the first time he'd met the man since becoming aware he was Keith.
The Altean hadn't even blinked.
"Guess you're not quite Number Four anymore now are you?"
(He had them ranked by height, apparently. Lance had raised such a stink at being demoted that Coran had caved and gone back to the old ranking.)
Withdrawing the thermometer, Coran let out a low hum. "Well your temperature is certainly elevated, but mostly within a safe range. Shiro tells me you have something called a cold!"
Gaze flickering back towards Shiro, he seemed to catch it this time, giving him a faint smile. Turning back towards Coran, Kethe could only frown. "If that's what Shiro says, I guess...?"
Coran caught his eye, reaching out to pat his knee. "Ah, I can understand why you'd be nervous. But it's not uncommon for hybrids to catch illness associated with both of their bloodlines!"
"And from the sound of it," Coran continued, "...you'll be good as new with a bit of rest."
"And fluids." Shiro added.
"Yes, that too." Coran said. "Now, how about I give you something for that fever? We certainly don't want it to get any higher!"
"So this cold," Kethe began, pausing to let out another one of those strange sneezes, as Shiro had called them, "-it's nothing to worry about?"
"It's pretty common back on Earth." Shiro told him. "I'm a little concerned as to how you caught one out here, but you should be fine."
Shoulders slumping at that, Kethe finally felt himself exhale, as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time. Okay, so... not dying, that was good.
"Right, well!" Coran interjected. "If you will, Number Four."
Blinking, he realized that Coran was offering him a pill bottle, along with a pouch of water. Taking both from him, he glanced down at the bottle, scanning its label. It was printed in Galran, rather than Altean, and he had to wonder if it was on purpose. He was making an effort, he realized, to put him at ease.
"Thanks, Coran." Kethe told him- and he meant it, uncorking the bottle and taking two of the pills, washing them down with water. The water felt so good in his throat, that he promptly drained the rest of the pouch.
He hadn't even realized how dry his throat had been until just now. Guess that was what Shiro had meant by needing fluids.
"Think nothing of it!" Coran told him. "Now, you can either rest here, or back in your quarters. The choice is yours."
"Quarters." Kethe said hurriedly. The less time spent in the med bay, the better.
"Not a problem." Shiro spoke up, crossing the room. "Come on, I'll help you back."
Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to help him down from the table. Once he had braced him again, they started back towards his room, Shiro keeping his pace slow and steady, so that it was easy to match it.
Now he was the one who looked lost in thought, Kethe noticed.
Maybe it was about him, he thought. If they had been like brothers, then Shiro must have known him for a long time- maybe he'd taken care of him when he'd been sick before. Was he acting different? The same? Part of him wanted to know, but part of him was afraid to ask.
"I'll tell Allura you're not up to training today." Shiro told him finally. "You just focus on getting rest."
Nodding his head, Kethe couldn't help but study the black paladin's features, hoping that something would leap out to him. If there was a sense of familiarity there, it was only because he had gotten to know him over the past two months, nothing more.
Gaze dropping back down to his feet, he felt his brow furrow. He tried not to dwell on his lost memory, having vowed to move forward with or without them- that was what his entire trial had been about. And yet...
Maybe it was just because he was sick. His mind was taking him to places he'd rather not be.
"You know," Shiro spoke again, and he didn't miss the subtle shift in his tone, unable to place it for a moment, "...they say colds can be caused by stress."
Ah. That was worry, then.
"I know your situation is complicated, Keith," Shiro began, his tone becoming gentler as he spoke, "...but you know we're all here for you, right? So if you're feeling stressed, you can always come talk to us."
"I-" Kethe began, before shutting his mouth, narrowing his eyes. He didn't know what to say to that.
He still didn't understand how they could be so patient with him.
"I know there's things you'd rather not talk about just yet," Shiro told him, and he found himself torn between wanting to look up, and keeping his gaze rooted to the floor, "-but I just want you to know that you can take all the time you need."
"What if it's-" Kethe began, voice hesitant, not daring to look up, "-what if that's never?"
"Well," Shiro said, as if that was that, "-then I guess it'll be never."
Blinking, Kethe finally dared to look up- he didn't know what kind of expression he'd been expecting, but a smile wasn't one of them.
Dropping his gaze away, he chewed his lip, before lightly pushing Shiro away. There wasn't any strength behind it, not that he had much to give at the moment. "I can- I can make it from here, Shiro."
"You sure?" Shiro asked, and he didn't dare say anything, only nodding his head. "Okay then. I'll send Hunk by with some food later."
"Yeah." He managed. "Thanks."
He must have been dozing off, because the sound of his door sliding open startled him awake, reaching for his knife in his daze.
It was only once he realized who it was, that he allowed himself to relax. Hunk, for his part, looked almost apologetic. "Aw, didn't mean to wake you, Keith."
Why hadn't he been able to smell him? Twitching his nose, his answer came in the form of clogged nostrils, causing him to grimace. That would explain that.
"S'okay." Kethe said, propping himself up in bed.
"Shiro told me you caught a cold." Hunk told him, making his way into the room, now that he was cleared to be in it. "I wanted to make you some chicken noodle soup, or well, the closest thing I can get to chicken noodle soup without having access to actual chickens, but you'd probably be healthy by the time the broth finished, so I opted for something a little faster instead."
Faintly, Kethe thought he could hear his stomach growl. Placing a hand over it, he frowned, before peering up towards Hunk.
"No, yeah, I get it buddy." Hunk told him. "How's your fever?"
Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand against his forehead, brows knitting together. "The same, I think? Is it supposed to be better?"
"A little too soon for that." Hunk remarked, presenting him the tray. "It's a bit hot, so be careful."
Frowning down at the food that had been offered to him, Kethe felt his nose crinkle up. Whatever it was, it didn't look appetizing. "What is this?"
"Porridge!" Hunk told him. "Now I know it doesn't look like much, but it does a sick body good, I promise."
Frowning, Kethe watched him with a slightly suspicious gaze. Did being sick mean that he had to eat unappetizing foods? One thing he'd learned about Hunk was that he was amazing in the kitchen- he'd been teaching him so much about Earth food lately, and yet it always seemed there was more left to learn.
So this was... staring down at it, he squinted, like he half expected it to attack him. Well, Hunk hadn't let him down before, so...
Hesitantly reaching for the spoon, Kethe scooped up some of the so-called porridge. Blowing on it, he decided to take the plunge, getting it over with.
Only to blink, a spark flashing through his golden eyes. "It's good."
He could hear Hunk let out a breath of relief, though he didn't understand why. If he could make something that looked as unappetizing as this taste good, then he clearly had nothing to worry about. Gaze flickering over towards the yellow paladin, he studied him in the same way he had done Shiro. From what he had been able to gather, they didn't know each other as well- and at times, that made it easier for him to deal with. There was less to be compared to.
Hunk had let it slip once that he'd known who he was ever since he'd spoken to him on the way back from the Weblum. It was his voice, he'd said- his voice was the same.
He'd have to take his word for it.
Hunk had also been the one to show him his human face that one time, but he didn't hold it against him. He hadn't done it on purpose, and it was clear that he had felt guilty about it afterwards. It was going to happen at some point, with the paladin bond being the way it was, so maybe it was just better that it had come out sooner, rather than later.
He still didn't know what to make of the image, though. He'd only seen it once, but it had left such a strong impression on him, that he couldn't forget it if he tried.
He'd also since learned that Hunk wasn't much of one for silence. Even now, he filled it with chatter- talking about how he had made the porridge, versus how he would make it on Earth. He found it interesting, always curious to learn more about his forgotten home planet- to the extent that it didn't involve him.
"-when we go back to Earth, I can show you-"
"-back to Earth?" Kethe cut him off, setting down his spoon.
Hunk blinked, and he didn't know if it was because he hadn't expected to be interrupted, or if he just hadn't been sure if he was listening. "I mean... yeah? Don't you want to go back home?"
It seemed to he realized his mistake no sooner than the question had left his mouth, judging from the way he winced.
"...do you think I can?" Kethe asked, hesitant.
Clearly very glad that he hadn't offended him, Hunk let out a breath. "I mean, yeah, why not?"
Arching a brow, Kethe merely flicked his tail, not breaking eye contact with him.
"Ah." Hunk said. "Yeah, that- that might be a problem, but hey- maybe by the time we get back, Earth'll know about the existence of aliens?"
"Wouldn't that be more of a problem?" Kethe asked. "I'm Galra."
Hunk winced at that, chewing on his lip. "It might complicate things," he admitted, "-but it's your home too, Keith."
"How can it be my home if I don't even remember it?" Kethe asked.
"I mean... yeah, that's true, but..." Hunk trailed off. "Where is home for you, then?"
Kethe contemplated the question, half not expecting it. "The Blade of Marmora," he told him, and he didn't miss the way Hunk's shoulders seemed to sag, "-and here."
And at that, Hunk perked right up.
"Aw, Keith!" Clasping his hands together, the warm smile on his face was almost blinding. "You know, this place has started to feel like home to me too."
At that, Kethe turned to face him, brow furrowing. "But you have a home. I've heard you talk about it."
"Well... yeah." Hunk said, nodding his head. "But a person can have more than one home, you know."
He wasn't sure why, but the words stuck with him.
A rough hand, cool against a warm forehead.
The sensation tugged him into awareness, far less frenzied than his earlier awakening had been. Blinking awake, Kethe struggled to make sense of his surroundings, something flickering just beyond his vision before settling back into his quarters on the castle-ship.
The first thing he took note of was the fact that someone's hand was indeed pressed up against his forehead.
The second thing was that it couldn't possibly be the same hand that had tugged him into waking. It had been rough, calloused, large- all things that Pidge's hands were not.
It was with a jolt that he realized what it had been. Bolting straight up, Kethe's eyes went wide, pressing his own hand up against his forehead, trying to drag out the sensation again.
"Whoa, Keith!" Hovering just outside of the edge of his vision, Pidge frowned. "You okay there?"
Pulling his hand away from his forehead, he couldn't tell if it was because of this cold that his thoughts were swimming, or if that would have happened anyways. Drawing in a breath, it hitched in his throat, coming out in a fit that he had learned was called coughing.
Feeling Pidge's hand on the small of his back, she gave it a few pats. "You need some water?"
Slowly nodding his head, Kethe watched as she drew away, grabbing the pitcher from off the table. He tried and failed to remember when it had been placed there- he was more out of it than he'd thought.
Gratefully taking the offered cup, he gulped it down, cool liquid good against his dry throat. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head up against the wall, trying to sort his own thoughts.
It hadn't been much more than a faint sensation, sure, but he knew. That had been a memory- or at least, a fragment of one.
Something from before.
He knew from his trial that his mind still carried the faintest imprints, afterimages, of what had been taken from him. None of them left a strong impression on him, and he couldn't drag them out if he tried. Forcing it just made his head hurt.
But this?
This had been the closest thing he'd had to a memory ever since he had woken up on that prison ship, with no knowledge of who he was.
It was there- there was actually something there. Pressing a hand up against his mouth, he nearly forgot Pidge was still in the room with him, until he heard her let out a squeak.
"Wha- Keith, are you crying?"
Blinking, Kethe reached up a hand, feeling something wet underneath his eyes. Drawing his hand away, he frowned, trying to make sense of it. Galra did not have tear ducts- they had a third eyelid to protect their eyes, so it wasn't necessary.
Apparently he did.
"Oh man, Shiro didn't say anything about crying." He caught Pidge mutter underneath her breath, and finally, he forced himself to pay attention to her. Gaze fixing on her face, he frowned, making note of the frantic look in her eyes.
"M'fine, Pidge." He told her, letting out a breath. "Just... thought I remembered something."
"Oh, that's all." Pidge said, her shoulders slumping in relief- before she realized the meaning of those words, eyes going wide. "Wha- you remembered!?"
Before he could stop her, she clasped his hands in her own, heedless of how damp his fur was with sweat. "Tell me everything."
Blinking, Kethe opened and closed his mouth. He didn't expect her to be this excited about it- from what he could gather, among the paladins, she was the one who had known him the least. He felt the most at ease with her because of this, at times simply lurking around the green lion's hangar, watching her work.
He had assumed that because they hadn't known each other well, that his memory loss affected her the least. Had he maybe been wrong about that?
"Just- just hands. A hand." Kethe told her after a moment. "Against my forehead."
Drawing away from him, for a brief span, he almost thought she was disappointed- before she gave a knowing look, folding her arms in front of her. "A tactile memory, then."
"Tactile...?" Kethe trailed off, tilting his head.
"Haptic memory, to be exact." Pidge told him, adjusting her glasses, ones that he knew she didn't need. There was a story behind that, but he hadn't learned it yet. "It's your memory in relation to touch stimuli."
"So that was a...?"
Pidge nodded her head. "Probably. Which does seem to suggest that perhaps the witch's memory erasure wasn't as complete as first suspected. Likely fragments remain behind, you just can't access them under normal circumstances."
She paused then, drumming a finger against her chin. "What does happen when you try to remember?"
"Headache." Kethe told her. "Bad one."
Letting out a low hum, Pidge plopped down on the bed next to him, without even asking first. He'd noticed that about her- it was kind of reassuring to see a human pay so little attention to human social cues, especially since he was still trying to establish most of them for himself.
"So hands." Pidge said. "Know whose?"
Shaking his head, Kethe merely frowned. "No."
"Probably not Shiro's?" She asked.
Thinking it over, he shook his head. Shiro's hands hadn't been that calloused or that rough. "They felt really large, so maybe I was really small...?"
"Maybe your father?" Pidge ventured.
Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand up against his forehead again, dragging out the sensation once more. It came a second time, just as easy as the first. "I don't know. Maybe?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Pidge seemed satisfied with that. "Good enough. And hey, all you had to do was catch a cold in the middle of space!"
"Not sure if it was worth it." Kethe frowned, dropping his hand. "I feel like shit."
"You look like shit." Pidge supplied, brushing off his glower with ease. "Just saying."
"Why are you here anyways?" Kethe asked.
"Checking up on my fellow arm." She told him, making a show of flexing her left. "How are you feeling? Coran said your fever's gone down."
Kethe blinked at that, wondering when Coran had even been here. "Better, I guess?"
"Good, good." Pidge nodded. "Kolivan contacted us while you were sleeping. We told him you were sick, and he nearly flipped."
She must have been able to sense his doubt, because she gave him a shrug of her shoulders. "Okay, so he didn't actually flip, but he did react, which is more than you can get out of him usually."
"For Galra, illness is usually fatal." Kethe told her.
"Yeah, so we've been told." Pidge said, cringing a little. "What did you think when you woke up this morning, that you were dying?"
Letting out a snort, Kethe ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I'd been poisoned."
"Why would you be...?" Pidge began, before closing her mouth. "The banquet."
Kethe merely shrugged. "It's a possibility."
She didn't look like she was going to refute him, but she didn't look comfortable with it either. "You really think they might try to poison you because you're Galra?"
"We're not exactly popular." Kethe told her.
She couldn't refute that either, but seemed to like it even less. "Give it time. They haven't exactly had the best impression of the Galra."
He knew. He had seen the looks that the Blade of Marmora earned firsthand- of suspicion, mistrust, the feeling of them clearly not being wanted there. It bothered him, but he tried to not let it show- they were fighting for them, the least they could do is tolerate their presence.
Gaze flickering towards Pidge, he frowned. "Does it ever bother you?"
"What, their reactions?" Pidge blinked.
"No." Shaking his head, Kethe narrowed his eyes. "Me."
Opening her mouth to say something, Pidge quickly shut it. "You were Galra when you left us, you just didn't look it. So no."
"You sure didn't act that way after the Balmera." Kethe observed.
To her credit, she barely even flinched. "I didn't know it was you. I thought... I thought the red lion rejecting Allura and accepting you meant that well, you were dead."
"And that now you'd have to deal with working with a Galra?" Kethe asked, not dropping his gaze this time. "You can be honest with me, Pidge."
"I- fine, I'll admit it, I didn't like it at the time." Pidge sighed, slumping back like this wasn't his bed. "But even if you weren't you, I'd have gotten used to it. But you are you, so it doesn't matter."
Gaze flickering downwards, he twitched his tail, shifting it so that the tip of it rested on top of her face. It earned the reaction he wanted, the green paladin sputtering, jolting up, glowering at him. "Gross, Keith. Why is your tail so damp?"
"I'm sick." Kethe reminded her. "It's sweat."
"If you wanted me to move, you could have just said so." Pidge told him, pushing herself off his bed. "How about you stop asking weird questions and get some rest."
Grumbling a little, Kethe nevertheless flopped back against his bed, closing his eyes. His tail, more lively than it was earlier in the day, draped itself over his torso.
"To be fair," he added, "-I didn't know it was me either."
Letting out a faint snort, Pidge flicked his forehead. "Goodnight, Keith."
"Rise and shine, Keith, it's time to do something about your stench!"
Groaning, Kethe actually contemplated going for his knife, if only to fling it, sheath and all, at Lance's face. He had since learned that the blue paladin wasn't much of one for subtlety, but he could damn well afford a lesson or two in it.
Rolling over on his side, his tail flicking out of the way, Kethe glowered at Lance without getting up. He could breathe a little better now, thank god, but his sense of smell was still shot. Still, he didn't think he stunk.
"I don't stink." Kethe muttered, eying the large basin Lance had dragged in with him.
"You smell like a wet cat Keith. Now get up, you bum." Lance told him, setting the basin down. "Pidge told me you're covered in sweat."
"S'fine." Kethe mumbled. "Water'll just make me more damp."
"I'll dry you off, dumbass." Lance told him, jerking his head to the side to indicate a mound of towels and a device that he had since learned was called a hairdryer. "Now get your fuzzy purple butt up, we need to change your sheets too."
Groaning, Kethe pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I can take care of myself, Lance."
"Nope, no arguments from the sick." Lance told him, voice stern as he rolled up his sleeves. "Off with the shirt now."
Grumbling, Kethe glowered at him for a moment longer, before he did what was asked. The entire thing was damp with sweat, his fur sticking to it. Some part of him was tempted to just chuck it at Lance's face, but he fought the urge, instead tossing it on the same pile that Lance had made with his sheets.
Watching with one eye as Lance crouched in front of the basin, grabbing a washcloth and dipping it in, squeezing off the excess moisture, Kethe frowned. He didn't see what the big deal was- he could just wash up later, when he was feeling better.
"Listen, I'm not wild about this idea either," Lance began, getting to his feet, "-but it was either me or Allura, and I was not about to let it be Allura."
Merely arching a brow at that, Kethe tilted his head. "I don't think Allura's even interested in me, Lance. In case you haven't noticed, I'm Galra."
That earned him a wet washcloth thrown at his face, which he peeled off with a faint growl. "Yeah, well she's been getting better about that lately." Lance told him. "Now give me that, I need it."
Then don't throw it at me, Kethe wanted to say, but he merely threw it back at him, smacking him in the face with it.
Peeling it off his own face, Lance merely narrowed his eyes. "Touche. Now make some room, fuzzbutt."
Scooting over, he allowed Lance some space next to him, lifting one of his arms when he motioned for him to do so. As much as he grumbled over it, the damp cloth felt good against his fur, cold against the remnants of his fever.
"You done this before?" Kethe asked after a moment.
"Done it before, had it done before." Lance told him. "Siblings."
Tail flicking behind him, Kethe frowned. He'd heard before that Lance had a large family that he had left behind on Earth, but he never thought that much about himself. Family was a foreign concept to him- he knew the idea, but he didn't know what it was like to have one.
Shiro was supposed to be like a brother to him, but he didn't feel that way. He lacked the context that had created that relationship, so he couldn't fathom what it had been like. "What's it like?"
Glancing up, Lance blinked. "What, siblings?"
Nodding his head, Kethe merely watched the blue paladin. In the first weeks, they had always been uneasy with his gaze, but since then, they had grown accustomed to it, even if they couldn't always tell where he was looking.
"Pain in the ass." Lance told him. "Other arm."
Frowning, Kethe did what he said.
"It's a pain in the ass, but in like, a good way, you know?" Lance continued. "Didn't know how much I'd miss them until I got myself shot into space."
He didn't understand at all, but he decided not to say it. Instead, he asked a different question. "How'd you end up in space anyways?"
As far as he understood it, humans didn't have the technology to get this far into space on their own. He knew Shiro had been held prisoner by the Galra Empire at some point- that was where he had got the arm- but he didn't know how any of the others had wound up in space.
"You sure you want me to answer that, dude?" Lance asked. "Show me your back."
Puzzled, Kethe frowned even as he turned, exposing his back. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because it kind of involves you?" Lance told him.
It wasn't just the cold washcloth pressed up against his back that made him flinch. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that he might have been involved- he thought of himself as Galra, so even if he knew that he had been human- more human- once, and had been born and raised on Earth, he couldn't help but think of himself as not having ever lived there.
"Oh." Kethe said. "Right."
There was silence between the two of them then, broken only when Lance asked him to lift his hair so he could get his neck. Closing his eyes, Kethe tried not to dwell on the question, wondering how past him- Keith- had taken action that had resulted in four humans being shot into deep space.
Five, some deeper part of his mind supplied- five humans.
(He still didn't know if past him, if Keith, knew he was Galra or not. He'd obviously kept it a secret if he had.)
Chewing on his lip, his gaze flicked back towards Lance, not that he noticed. He hadn't thought it has been his fault that they'd ended up in space, but maybe it was?
And now he didn't even remember? Wasn't that the same thing as escaping responsibility?
Lance caught his eye, brow furrowing. "Are you looking at me? Because I'm going to be honest here, I totally can't tell."
"Just thinking." Kethe told him, gaze flickering away.
Lance frowned at that. "What's having no pupils like anyways?"
"What's having pupils like?" Kethe asked in turn.
Lance blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Guess you wouldn't remember, huh. I don't... I've never not had pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."
"It's the same." Kethe told him with a shrug. "I don't remember having pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."
"Huh." Lance's frown deepened. "Good point. Never thought of it like that."
There was more silence between them then, Lance chucking the washcloth into the dirty pile, grabbing a towel. Tossing it over him, Kethe felt a surprised yowl escape him as he moved to dry him off.
Lance, damn him, let out a snort. "Space cat."
"I don't even know what a damn cat is." Kethe hissed, glowering back at him.
"Oh trust me on this one, Keith." Lance told him. "You're totally a giant space cat."
He hated to admit it, but Lance was right about one thing- being free of sweat did make him feel better. Almost no sooner than had the clean sheets been put on his bed, did he drift off to sleep again, far more peaceful than he had been before.
When he woke next, his fever had broken, and Allura was there.
"Good morning, Keith." Her greeting was cool, diplomatic, even.
He had never been able to figure out just where he stood with the Altean princess. It was clear that she was not as tense around him as she once was, when he first came aboard the castle-ship, but it was just as clear that she still held him at a distance compared to the other paladins.
He had no frame of reference as to how she had treated him before, so he had nothing to compare it to.
"Princess." He greeted her, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "It's tomorrow?"
"You slept clear through dinner and all through the night." Allura informed him. "Hunk requested that I see if you are up to joining us for breakfast this morning."
So she'd been sent by someone else, Kethe thought, running a hand through his hair. It was less damp than it had been yesterday, but he still probably needed to wash it again at some point. "I- yeah, I think I can manage."
"Very good." Allura said, her gaze flickering down towards his hair.
For a moment, her lips twisted into a frown, as if she were considering something, before she finally just decided to come out with it. "Would you like me to assist you with your hair?"
Blinking, Kethe peered up at her. Unlike the paladins, he knew she could tell when he was looking at her, as opposed to anything else in the room, but she did not grow stiff under his gaze as she once had.
"...my hair?" Kethe asked, hand straying up to it, wondering what had brought that on.
"No, Lance's hair." Allura said. "Yes, your hair. If I must be honest, it is a mess."
Letting out a faint snort, Kethe dropped his hand. "I've been asleep for like, an entire day, so it doesn't surprise me."
Allura seemed to frown at that. "If you do not wish for my help, you can merely say so."
Tail flicking, Kethe wondered when it was that he had said no. He wasn't sure what had brought it on- the princess was always hard for him to read- but it seemed earnest, if nothing else.
"...if you want?"
He did not except her gaze to light up- if only for the span of a moment, before she quickly concealed it under that diplomatic expression again. "Very well, then. Move over."
Making room for the third person in twenty four hours on his bed, not knowing how to feel about this trend, Kethe turned his head so that Allura could get better access to his hair. Exposing his back was something he had been trained not to do- even before that, it would seem it had been an instinct instilled in him.
But he could trust the paladins- and Allura, for that matter. The two of them might have their differences, but he was pretty sure that if she wanted to kill him, she'd attack him head on from the front.
She had brought a hairbrush with her, he didn't fail to notice- obviously she'd been possessed of this idea before even entering his quarters. Dimly, he wondered what she had been planning on doing if he'd said no.
Without any further preamble, she worked her fingers into his hair, giving it a quick run through. He didn't miss the faint note of surprise she let out. "I knew it was not fur, but it does not feel like Galra hair, either."
"It's human hair." Kethe told her. "I think."
Letting out a faint hum, Allura continued to work her fingers through it, before switching to the brush. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but admit it felt a bit good, his tail swishing lazily behind him, a faint rumble escaping from his chest.
"You do appear to be feeling better." Allura observed.
"Think my fever broke overnight." Kethe told her. "My nose is still clogged though."
"Take today off from training too." Allura said. "Shiro tells me that the most dangerous time is when you're starting to feel better."
"That makes no sense, but okay." Kethe said. "He'd know best."
"Yes, it seems so strange that humans have an illness that they keep getting again and again, from the sound of it." Allura told him. "We had nothing like that on Altea."
Squinting, Kethe couldn't help but frown. "You mean I could get this again?"
"That is what I was told." Allura said, setting aside the brush and setting herself to the task of braiding his hair. "Do you wear it like this because of Kolivan?"
Sputtering, Kethe fought the urge to jerk his head back, knowing it wouldn't end well. Opening his mouth to deny it, he quickly shut it, realizing that he'd given himself away by his reaction alone.
"You secret is safe with me, Keith." Allura told him, her tone light, playful, even. She was teasing him, some part of him realized, giving her an irritated flick of his tail.
"...better be." He muttered, folding his arms in front of his chest.
"I do not take my promises lightly." Allura said, withdrawing her hands. "There, all finished. Thank you for allowing me to do this."
Blinking, he glanced back at her, giving her a slight frown. Why was she thanking him?
It was only then that it hit him- that the princess had been attempting to bond with him.
Actually, come to think of it... reflecting back on the previous day, he wondered how he hadn't realized it before. Each and every one of them had made an attempt to come see him- had they... had the paladins been trying to bond?
Turning his head away from the princess, Kethe ducked his head. "Y-yeah. You go on ahead, I'll be there in just a second."
She seemed to frown, but said nothing more, simply picking up her hairbrush and making her exit. It was only once she left that Kethe looked up, pressing his hand over his mouth.
It was a deeper part of him that informed him he'd never smiled this big before.
How couldn't he?
They wanted him- the paladins, Coran, Allura- they wanted him.
Home. He had told Hunk that this place was a home to him, but it would seem that those words rung more true than he ever could have imagined.