Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Lance, why the hell are you singing?” Shiro hears Keith scoff over the comms, “We’re on a recon mission, you could try being serious for once.”

“Technically he’s humming, not singing,” Pidge adds from Shiro’s side, not looking away from the screen in front of her, hands flying across the keyboard. “Okay, Shiro, put your hand on the touchscreen now, it should work.”

It does work. And Lance continues to hum.

The humming had begun very quietly, but Lance is increasing the volume the longer he goes. It’s still not loud by any means, but the tune is easier to discern.

It sounds….familiar.

It sounds like—

“OH MY GOD!” Hunk shouts from where he’s stationed in Yellow, preparing to be their getaway. “OH MY GOD, GET LANCE, YOU HAVE TO GET HIM OUT NOW!”

“What, Hunk, what are you--,”

“LANCE IS SHOT! LANCE IS SHOT!”

Silence.

“MmmHmm.”

The assent is barely discernable, low and quiet, nearly a moan.

Followed by an immediate uproar.

“OH MY GOD--,”

“Fuck, shit, what the fuck--,”

“Lance--,”

“QUIET.” Shiro orders, and everyone immediately stops. “Lance, just hang on kiddo, we’ll get you out. Don’t move.”

Lance worryingly doesn’t respond.

Shiro continues, “Hunk, get Lance’s armor coordinates from Coran and send them to us. Keith, meet Pidge and me at Lance’s location.” Pidge nods next to him, clearing the screen and rushing with Shiro to the door.

“Okay, okay,” Hunk says breathlessly. Lance has stopped humming, “Hang on Lance, buddy, okay, Shiro I sent it. It looks like Lance is on the second level right above you. There’s a hangar for cargo ships. He’s right next to a big vent.”

Lance still isn’t humming.

000

They find Lance just where Hunk said he would be: slumped against the vent, hidden from the rest of the hangar by stacks of metal crates. There are two destroyed drones and one Galra soldier with a hole in the middle of his forehead laying at Lance’s feet.

Lance’s head is collapsed against the grill of the vent, his swollen and unhinged jaw visible where his helmet visor has been blasted away.

His hands are on his left side, covering the smoking hole in his armor sluggishly leaking blood.

“Shit.” Keith whispers, staring.

Shit indeed.

“Keith, make sure the hangar is clear. Hunk, circle around and land Yellow in this hangar,” no way in hell they’re getting Lance to the original extraction point, “Pidge, help me with Lance.” Shiro finishes, rushing over to Lance’s side and falling to his knees.

“Here, Shiro, i-it’s one of Coran’s med patch thingies,” Pidge sputters, landing hard on her knees next to Shiro and assisting him in removing the cuirass of Lance’s still smoking armor.

Shiro cuts away the black undersuit to put the patch over Lance’s wound, fighting valiantly not to gag.

Pidge turns away and pukes.

And Lance starts humming again.

Shiro looks up, shocked to see Lance’s shining blue eyes open and staring at him.

“Hey, buddy,” Shiro says softly, “we need to get you out of here, and it’s probably gonna hurt. I’m sorry, but it’ll all be over soon, okay?”

Lance lets out a low moan. Shiro takes it as approval, scooping his arms under Lance’s knees and back. Pidge helps to gently rest Lance’s head on Shiro’s shoulder, taking care with his broken jaw.

Tears still leak out of Lance’s scrunched up eyes.

But he doesn’t stop humming.

“Guys, we’ve got incoming,” Keith whispers ominously, running from the door on the opposite end of the hangar to the middle, where Yellow has landed.

Pidge readies her whip, and she and Shiro sprint across the hangar, care and caution put to the wayside once the doors Keith had blocked blast open.

“Hurry! C’mon, get in!” Hunk shouts. Yellow’s ramp shuts as Pidge, Keith and Shiro are still climbing in, and she takes off in short order, tossing all three of them toward the cockpit. Shiro holds Lance’s head to his shoulder as tight as he dares, and wraps the rest of his body around the smaller boy, trying futilely to protect him from the jostling.

“—uck,” Lance moans breathlessly near Shiro’s ear once Yellow finally straightens out and flies off, Hunk shouting apologies as they zoom away.

Fuck indeed.

000

“Just a few more ticks and he should be—ah yes, there we go,” Coran says, happily looking up from his monitor to stare at Lance’s opening pod.

Keith, closest to the pod, rushes over to catch Lance as he falls out.

“Mmmm whatcha sa-ay, mmmm that ya only meant welllllll, well of course ya di-id--,”

“Oh my God, Coran, it’s too early, he’s delirious--,”

Keith is interrupted by Pidge and Hunk’s uproarious laughter.

Even Shiro chuckles.

It may have been two years since he’s had access to the internet, but Shiro enjoys dicking around on YouTube just as much as the next person. He also (though he will deny it to his dying day) may have watched everysingleepisodeoftheOC, but again, denial ‘til dying day and all that.

“You are a sad, strange little man, and I pity you,” Lance declares, standing up straight and patting Keith’s shoulder, “Hunk, my man, mi amigo, my brother from another mother, I love you.”

Lance and Hunk sprint to one another, meeting in the middle for a hug of epic proportions.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, Lance, and then you couldn’t talk because of your jaw, God that must’ve been so scary--,”

“Hey, I’m good, you got it in the end. Sorry I screwed up the mission guys, I got ambushed trying to get in the vents to cover you from above,” Lance says, pulling away from Hunk, looking abashed.

Shiro shakes his head and wraps his normal arm around Lance’s shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, these things happen. And you did really well considering the circumstances. Honestly, Lance, that was so smart.”

“Who knew memes could save lives?” Pidge says idly. Lance’s eyes grow wide.

“My life was saved…by a meme.” Lance whispers before beaming, “This—this is one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me. This is a defining moment in my life. A triumph, a--,”

“What the HELL are all of you talking about?”

The rest of them don’t stop laughing for a long, long time.

Chapter Text

BOOM!

Lance wakes with a start, scrambling out of bed in the pitch darkness. The lights, even the bathroom light Lance likes to keep on at night and the strip from the hallway under the door are all off, and Lance crawls over to the wall, jiggling the switch futilely.

The power is out.

The power is out, and they are stranded in dark, oxygen-less outer space.

Just as Lance begins to panic, breaths heaving, some of the lights in the hallway turn back on, and a hum within the castle Lance hadn’t even noticed was missing begins again.

“Paladins,” Allura's voice echoes over a crackling loudspeaker, “The castle has unexpectedly entered an asteroid field and has been hit. We are currently stopped, and are now running on auxiliary power. Please carefully make your way to the bridge so we call all strap in and exit the field safely.”

Oh.

Well, that’s not as bad as Lance thought.

He scrambles upright and opens the door, hand on the wall in case the castle is hit once again. In the corridor, Lance is almost immediately joined by a half-awake Hunk. Lance grabs his arm and carefully they make their way down the hall.

“Is this real?” Hunk asks sleepily, “I feel like I’ve had dreams like this before.” Hunk ends with a huge yawn.

Lance chuckles. “Yeah buddy, this is real, unless--,” but Lance doesn’t get to finish, as they’re both rocked sideways, landing in a heap on the side of the corridor.

“Fuck,” Hunk groans, “Yep, yeah, not a dream, that hurt.”

“C’mon, we gotta get to the bridge,” Lance mutters, grabbing Hunk’s hand and hauling his friend upright. He’s in the middle of wondering where the hell everyone else is when Keith, in a tank top and shorts, sweat dripping down his face, rushes into the hall.

“You guys okay?” Keith asks worriedly.

“Keith, it’s like two in the morning! Were you in the training room?” Lance asks, flabbergasted. Does this boy ever fucking sleep?

“I wasn’t--,” but Keith doesn’t get to finish the thought, as the three of them roll to the opposite side of the passage. Only Keith’s quick reflexes keep him from being smashed by Hunk and Lance.

“Okay, explanations later, we gotta go!” Lance shouts, and all three boys link arms in a daisy-chain and sprint as fast as they dare down the hall. The castle is hit a few more times during their journey, but not hard enough to knock them over again. They reach the bridge in two minutes, all rushing to their seats and buckling in.

Allura and Coran already stand at the helm, special straps around their waists keeping them upright.

Lance stares out the windows and gapes.

For miles and miles, all there is to see is asteroids. Huge ones, small ones, definitely all bigger than his head. Craggy and rocky and dangerous. It’s like being in a fucking episode of Star Wars, but this is real life and none of them are Han Solo. Lance doesn’t see an easy way, not even a possible way, to get out.

And Shiro and Pidge still aren’t on the bridge.

He’s got a bad feeling about this.

“Where are they?” Hunk pipes up worriedly from his seat. “Where are Shiro and Pidge?”

Just as he asks, Shiro sprints in, breathless. “Sorry—sorry guys,” Shiro gasps, running a hand through his white floof and sitting heavily in his seat, strapping in. “I was on a walk on the other side of the castle, couldn’t sleep. Allura what’s--,” Shiro begins, but stops as he looks around at the seats, taking a headcount, “Where’s Pidge?”

“Pidge isn’t here yet,” Allura states, voice monotonous. If Lance didn’t know better, he’d think Allura sounded uncaring. Now he knows her well enough to realize she’s very, very worried.

“But I checked all your rooms first, nobody was left, she should be here!” It never fails to touch Lance’s heart how very paternal and caring Shiro is, how much he worries for and loves them. He never expected to find that outside his own family.

“Let me turn on the alarms, that should get her here. Maybe she just didn’t hear Allura’s announcement.” Coran says.

“Oh yeah, and she hasn’t been worried about the fucking asteroids hitting us either?” Keith mutters. Not helpful.

But also true.

Coran ignores him, and soon the alarms are blaring. But twenty seconds in, there’s still no sign of Pidge. And through the window, Lance can see a huge fucking asteroid about to hit the castle. Allura quickly aims the castle’s cannon at the asteroid, breaking it up into a million little pieces.

But the “little” pieces still hit the castle; the impacts and jostling make Lance almost puke.

“Okay, yeah, I’m gonna go find her,” Shiro exclaims, unbuckling and standing up. He crumples to the floor when the next asteroid hits.

“Shiro!” everyone shouts as he falls. He shakes his head and stands up gripping the chair.

“Shiro, it’s too dangerous, our best bet is to find a way out of the field and retrieve her after. It’s very possible she’s found a--,”

“Shut up.” Lance orders suddenly. He chooses to ignore how affronted Allura looks. “Coran turn off the alarms.”

Lance must sound pretty serious, because Coran complies immediately.

“Do you hear that?” Lance asks quietly. Because there’s a noise, a weird echoing down the hall from the bridge, almost like an auto-tuned moan.

“Oh God, is the castle haunted, too?” Hunk says worriedly.

Allura and Coran shake their heads. “No, no we’ve taken every precaution to prevent lost souls from becoming viruses in the castle's programming.”

And wow, okay, Lance can unpack that one later.

“It sounds like…singing?” Keith says questioningly. And it does, kind of. A quirky, unique kind of singing, but singing nonetheless.

“Hide and Seek

Trains and sewing machines

Blood and tears

They were here first--,”

“It’s the fucking song,” Shiro says, horrified. “It’s--,”

“Mm, whacha say?

Mm, that you only meant well

Well of course you did--,”

Lance can’t believe the song ever made him laugh. Now, all it makes him want to do is puke and yell. Maybe cry.

“Pidge is in trouble.”

000

Against Allura and Coran’s, and even Shiro’s orders, all four boys end up traversing the shaking halls, hands linked, following the eerie sounds of the music. Shiro’s in the lead, his Galra arm steadying himself against the wall. Lance finds himself between Keith and Hunk. Keith’s fingerless gloves are scratchy against Lance’s hand. Hunk’s palm is warm and slightly damp with nerves.

Lance grips both hands so tightly he’s surprised neither of them complain.

They all try to go fast, but in reality their progress is slow, so slow. Because the world is shaking and turning and if they sprint like they all wish they could, they’d just get hurt, and what use would they be to Pidge then?

It still hurts.

So they continue to follow the music, and after what seems to be forever, they arrive at Pidge’s lab, because of course Pidge was in her lab at two in the morning.

“I told that little shit to go to bed,” Shiro mumbles without any heat. “I should’ve, God damn it, why didn’t I check here first?”

Shiro opens the door without waiting for them to respond.

The lab is fucking chaos.

Tables and shelves, monitors and projects, all of it litters the floor. The music is coming from an overturned speaker in the corner of the room. But Pidge, her fluffy hair, her green sweatshirt, her glasses, none of it is visible nearby.

“S-she must have turned on the speaker remotely,” Hunk says with a gulp. “She can control it from her tablet, that’s where all of her songs are downloaded.”

“Stick to the middle of the room in case we’re hit again,” Shiro states, “Why the hell isn’t any of this stuff bolted down?” he mutters to himself angrily.

There’s no use asking now. What’s done is done.

But Lance understands. They all get a little weird, all too overprotective and angry when it comes to the smartest and strongest, yet the youngest and smallest among them.

Pidge is special. Whether she likes it or not, she’s special.

And they need to find her now.

“Pidge!” Keith calls out desperately, “PIDGE!”

They all join in.

“Pidge!”

“Where are you?”

“C’mon, Katie, give us something!”

“Pidgeon!”

“Help,” comes a whispered groan from the corner by the window, behind one of the desks.

And underneath a huge fucking shelf full of drones Pidge was in the middle of reprogramming.

Hunk reaches her first.

“OH, Pidgey, oh my God, okay, okay, how bad is it, shit, shit, oh my God--,”

“Breathe, Hunk,” Pidge whispers.

“How bad is it, kiddo?” Shiro asks desperately, “What hurts?”

Because, now that they actually know where to look, Pidge’s torso is sticking out from the fallen shelving unit. From her lower back under is trapped, the desk and the dust and dirt just made her difficult to see.

“Legs,” Pidge groans, “Back, too. I—I think my spine’s okay, I can s-still feel everything. Just wanna g-get out.”

Which, of course, is when another asteroid decides to hit the castle.

The shelves shake. They all fall to the floor, covering their heads; Hunk and Shiro do their best to cover Pidge’s head as well.

Pidge screams.

“Shhh, shhh, okay, okay, it’s okay, it’s over, Pidge, it’s over. We’ll get you out,” Shiro murmurs into her hair.

Pidge doesn’t respond.

“Hey, hey c’mon, open your eyes. Sweetheart, you need to wake up now.”

Pidge opens her eyes and glares at Shiro.

“I told you not to fucking call me that, Takashi.”

“Oh thank God,” Lance hears Shiro mumble, and at any other time it would make Lance laugh.

Not now, though. Definitely not now.

“Yeah, honey, I know,” Shiro says, and Pidge growls, slapping weakly at Shiro with the hand not holding her tablet.

“Then s-stop treatin’ me like a girl. Stop treatin’ me like a b-baby.”

“But I just love the sound of your voice, babycakes.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Pidge shouts, eyes widening and free fist slamming the ground. Pidge is definitely awake now.

“I know,” Shiro says with a smile. “Okay, Hunk, you and I are gonna lift the shelf. Lance, you stay and drag Pidge out. Keep her as flat as you can, got it?” Lance nods. “Keith, I need you to run over to the window and let us know if you see any other asteroids coming.”

“But--,” Keith complains. Shiro glares at him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Keith, Hunk is strongest, Lance is longest, and you’re the fastest. Just fucking do what I say!” Shiro shouts, and Keith runs to the window.

Lance has never seen Shiro lose it like this. Usually when they’re all losing it is when Shiro is best able to keep a level head. His cool demeanor and lack of temper has gotten them out of plenty of life-or-death situations.

But, again, they’re all a little weird when it comes to Pidge.

Shiro most of all.

“Okay, we should be good,” Keith yells from the window. “Do it now!”

Shiro and Hunk get up and squat, gripping tightly under the shelving unit. Lance gets flat on the floor and grips Pidge’s wrists like they’re trapeze artists. Pidge drops her tablet and grips back.

The weakness of her grasp makes Lance’s heart clench.

“Keep her as flat as you can, Lance,” Shiro says seriously. “On three, Hunk. One…Two…THREE!”

Then both Hunk and Shiro are grunting, and Lance can hear the gears whirring in Shiro’s arm, working overtime to keep the shelves up.

Lance yanks Pidge out, and she screams once again, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps her flat, sitting on his calves to continue dragging her away, out and clear of the shelves.

“She’s out!” Lance shouts.

“HURRY! There’s one incoming!” Keith yells at the same time.

Shiro shoves Lance out of the way and takes over, dragging Pidge away from the desk and to the middle of the room. Lance, Hunk and Keith all scramble over, and the four of them end up huddled in a ball in the center of the lab, covering Pidge and gripping each other when the next asteroid hits.

Two more shelving units fall over. The half-dismantled drones slide.

Shiro gouges his Galra arm into the concrete ground like it's paper and keeps them all from slipping away.

And Imogen Heap plays on in the corner.

000

“I mean, obviously we should just make it official. ‘Mmm whatcha say’ is our new code blue,” Lance says knowingly, tucking Pidge under the covers of the infirmary’s cot.

Pidge rolls her eyes. She’s still pale and tired from her time in the pod, but her legs are, thankfully, fully healed now.

“It’s just the first thing I thought of, Lance. The emergency alarms weren’t working and it didn’t seem like any of you could hear me shouting.”

Everybody frowns at that.

“That was a bad oversight,” Coran says sadly, handing Pidge a water pouch. “All emergency alarms in the castle, even the new ones connected to your tablet, will work on auxiliary power. Hunk and I reprogrammed it to make that a priority.”

“Well,” Pidge yawns, “that’s good.”

“Get some sleep, Pidge,” Allura says, kissing Pidge’s forehead before leaving the infirmary to return to the bridge.

“Glad you’re okay, brat,” Keith says, patting Pidge’s knee. Pidge grins.

“Sweet dreams, sweetie pie,” Shiro adds with a smirk.

“Fuck off, dickwad.”

This time, Lance laughs.

Chapter Text

000

“Pidge, you should go to bed,” Keith croaks, choosing to stare at the monitors instead of looking at her.

Pidge snorts.

Then she coughs, and hacks up a ball of phlegm.

Keith wordlessly hands her a hand towel from the pile between them; Alteans seemingly never had any good reason to invent Kleenex, so towels will have to do. It’s the last one that hasn’t been coated with mucus and spittle.

“Pot, meet kettle,” Pidge rasps, before blowing her nose and throwing the towel on their used pile on the floor.

Keith smirks a little and finally looks at her, handing her a water pouch from the little cooler Hunk left them with. “Pidge, seriously, you don’t have to keep watch, I can do it.”

Pidge rolls her eyes. Apparently the only requirement for the black paladin is being a self-sacrificial idiot with little regard for personal well-being who constantly nags her to sleep more.

Then her heart clenches because shit Shiro’s still gone. And really, if there’s some quota in life for personal loss, Pidge is pretty damn positive she and Keith should’ve maxed out by now, but whatever.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer, Keith. Coran said the meal would be over after five courses, and they just brought out the fourth. I can wait with you.”

Allura, Coran, Lance and Hunk are down on Illyma, the planet most recently freed from the Galra’s rule and newest member of the Voltron Coalition. They’re hanging with the beautiful royal family, swimming in pristine lakes and hot springs, and eating “the most delicious food in the universe besides my mother's cooking” according to Hunk.

And Keith and Pidge are watching from the castle, wrapped up in blankets and blowing their brains out through their noses.

Everyone else had been kind about it; Hunk made them Space chicken noodle soup (it’s green and purple, but surprisingly tastes pretty close to the real thing). Lance gathered all the softest blankets in the castle for them to wrap up in. Coran managed to cobble together something resembling cough syrup that was compatible with human biology. Allura did some of her magical wumbo-jumbo that got both their fevers down and left them strong and coherent enough to get out of bed, before they left for the Illymian's thank you feast.

But no quick fix for their illness, not even the pods.

Even in the deepest edges of the fucking universe, with magic and technologies beyond their wildest dreams, there is no cure for the common cold.

H.G. Wells really knew his shit.

So now, Keith and Pidge are watching their friends have fun and enjoy themselves, spying on Hunk’s drone video feed and listening to the little communicators in everyone’s ears. They’ve had one too many betrayals in situations like this. Lance thought they were being overcautious but honestly, at this point it’s just common sense.

Hunk had lamented the fact that Pidge and Keith were sick, felt bad for them and said what rotten luck it was. But Pidge knows, and she’s pretty sure Keith knows too, it wasn’t bad luck. It was their own fault, the natural order. Because Keith, like Pidge, works himself too hard, stays up too late, and definitely doesn’t eat and drink enough water to sustain that lifestyle.

And Keith, like Pidge, is missing the one person who always reminded (convinced, forced) him to take care of himself.

God, she misses Shiro.

“Mmm whatcha say--,” Hunk gasps out suddenly, voice crackling on the once quiet comm line, before cutting off abruptly.

“Oh, shit,” Keith pants, zooming in on their video feed. For Hunk, in the Illymian's resplendent robes and sitting next to the king himself has just fallen to the floor, holding his throat. “Shit. What the fuck is going on? What happened?” Keith growls through his microphone, and Pidge and Keith watch the feed with bated breath as Coran and Lance fall to Hunk’s side. Allura faces the king, her blaster drawn.

“Someone answer!” Pidge begs.

“He’s, shit, Hunk, breathe, it’s okay. You’ll be okay,” Lance says evenly, and on the video feed they see Lance’s finger to his ear, turning back on the comms, and Coran holding the now shuddering Hunk.

“Did they poison him?” Keith growls. “I’m coming to get--,” But then, on the video they watch as the yellow lion lands right in front of them, onto the banquet pavilion.

“The king says he and his subjects have not touched Hunk’s food. I believe him,” Allura says, finally lowering her blaster and turning on her comms. And yeah based on the reaction of the Illymians, they’re as distressed and shocked by Hunk’s suddenly collapse as Voltron is.

Coran and Lance are now bundling Hunk into Yellow, aided by Allura and the king himself.

“Okay, beautiful can you—oh thank God, okay we’re on our way back. Hunk’s not—shit he’s wheezing guys. I don’t know what’s wrong. He can’t talk to us.”

“Perhaps the food wasn’t compatible with human physiology?” Coran asks.

“But I ate it too, I’m fine. He must be allergic to something,” Lance says, grunting. Something more must be happening that Keith and Pidge can’t see now.

“Keith, I need you to prep my scanners, we’ll need a full diagnostic—quiznack!” Coran finishes abruptly.

“He doesn’t have time for a full diagnostic, Coran!”

Keith looks over at Pidge, his eyes wide and frightened, and she knows she looks the same. Shit, shit. They can’t lose Hunk. They can’t lose Hunk like this, what kind of horrible irony makes Hunk aller—

“He’s allergic!” Pidge gasps, realization finally flooding her fever-clouded mind, and she stands suddenly, nearly falling over as black spots dance in her eyes. “He’s having an allergic reaction!”

Keith looks at her, face scrunched up in confusion. If she weren't so sick, he would call her an idiot. “Yes. We’ll need adrenaline, Coran, do you—is there any Altean equivalent to human adrenaline we could—Pidge where the fuck are you going?” For Pidge is running, sprinting as fast as she can to her bedroom.

“I’ll meet you in Yellow’s hangar! I’m allergic to bees!” Pidge shouts as best she can over her shoulder, hoping that’ll be enough of an explanation. Keith’s smart, he’ll get it. Plus, Pidge definitely can’t talk anymore.

Jesus Christ, it’s fucking hard to sprint when you have a cold. She can’t breathe out of her nose, her mouth is stuffed with cotton. Every movement is sluggish and awkward, but Pidge still runs, sprints like she never has before, beating away the spots before her eyes and panting painfully, doing her best to avoid thinking about the horrible stitch in her side until her room comes into view.

Her room.

The room Shiro told her she needed to clean exactly 276 times.

Her overflowing, hoarding cave of a bedroom.

That’s where her epi-pen is. The epi-pen she hasn’t bothered to carry around since they left Earth.

Oh shit.

She enters the rooms, scrambling like a madwoman, throwing clothes and blankets and tools from one pile to the next, searching and hoping to find that tiny little injector.

Pidge has never really been religious, but in that moment she sends up a little prayer to the people she believes in most of all.

Dad. Matt. Shiro. Please, please let me find this stupid fucking thing. Let me find it and I promise to clean my room. Then I’ll go find all of you. Just don’t let us lose Hunk. Don’t let me lose Hunk. Please.

Pidge opens her vanity drawer and sees the object for which she’s so desperately searched and lets out a little sob of relief. She grabs it and runs again, her breath not even fully caught up from her first sprint.

By the time she arrives in Yellow’s hangar, half her vision’s gone black.

She blinks the stars out of her eyes and falls to her knees beside the wheezing Hunk, where Keith, Coran and Lance laid him out on the floor, his feet elevated by a bundled up robe. Hunk’s eyes are open, wide and tearful and terrified, and her heart clenches as the sight. There’s not time for comfort now, though. Just action.

Pidge doesn’t bother moving his robe. She just slams the epi-pen into his thigh, struggling to hold it upright. Jesus she’s tired.

“One…Two…Th-three…” She begins, memories of being five at the doctors’ office, of the nurses handing her the fake injector and explaining the instructions as she sat in her mom’s lap flood back. 

“…Nine…Ten.” She takes out the injector, and pats Hunk’s knee as his wheezing finally starts to calm. Lance is on his knees too, she realizes, on Hunk’s other side holding his hand. Coran is in the back of the hangar, gathering one of the emergency stretchers and giving orders to Allura, who must already be in the infirmary. 

“Pidge?” Keith rasps, and his hand lands on her shoulder.

“I think--,” Pidge croaks, trying and failing to catch her breath as her own adrenaline floods away. “I think I’ll go to bed now, Keith.”

At which point, Pidge faints.

000

“Really, what the hell am I going to do with the three of you?” Lance tuts, “Never bothering to take care of yourselves or watch out for your safety. Running sprints with your lungs full of gunk, eating snuffalumps when you shouldn’t, and leaving me to care for you all on my own. You burden my poor heart,” he says, wiping fake tears away from the corner of his eye as he tucks Pidge in, the last of their line-up of cots in the infirmary.

“All on your own? What are we, chopped garnuk?” Allura shouts from the other side of the infirmary, where she and Coran are working on synthesizing a new epi-pen equivalent for all of them to carry around.

Pidge snorts. “And you’ve literally been in the pods more than the three of us combined.”

“Also, I think they’re called snickerpunks, not snuffalumps, Lance,” Hunk adds with a smile. “It’s not like I knew I was allergic. It’s really disappointing, actually, the bite of roasted snickerpunk I actually had was pretty heavenly. Then, you know, my throat started closing up and I broke out in horrible hives, but the before was great!”

“At which point, you started singing ‘mmm whatcha say’—,”

“I said it, not sang it but—,”

“So now it’s actually definitely totally officially our code blue. I mean, that’s three in a row, it obviously means something now. Right, team leader?” Lance adds, with a pointed look at Keith. Keith sighs.

“It’s our code blue.”

Pidge just smiles and shakes her head. It’s different without Shiro here now, without him patting their heads and tucking them in, calling her sweetheart and stressing enough about all of them to turn into a diamond.

But they’ll find him. And for now, well, they’re learning to take care of themselves. They’re learning to take care of each other.

And maybe they’re all a little better off for it.

000

The next day, Pidge cleans her room. 

Chapter Text

000

“Okay Platt, ready for this?” Hunk asks, kernel in hand. Platt nods quickly. “One…Two…Three!” Hunk cries, tossing the kernel gently toward Platt’s open mouth. Platt snaps his mouth shut, crunching loudly on the snack.

“Yes!” Hunk shouts, spinning his chair around in circle, empty bowl still in hand. “That’s thirty in a row! New record for Hunk and Platt, best Space popcorn catchers in the whole wide universe! Buddy, I am so impressed by you, really, your technique is spectacular. I--,” Hunk says, but he’s interrupted by three short beeps and a red glow on the screens before him.

“Voltron Coalition, this is Yellow Paladin Hunk at your service. How may I help you this fine evening?” Hunk asks into the comm, accepting the communication.

Then, a Galra shows up on the screen and Hunk yelps loudly.

“Yellow Paladin, my name is Scaltur. I am a member of the Blade of Marmora and I require your assistance.”

Hunk gulps.

“Okay—ah well, that’s great and all, but where’s your Marmora armor?” Hunk asks, because this Scaltur guy is dressed in red and orange, looking a whole lot like one of Zarkon’s (Lotor’s? Sendak’s? Who the hell is in charge now, anyway?) commanders.

“I have been undercover many years. I was called back to our base by Kolivan. The blade member tasked with retrieving me was injured while completing the mission.”  

“Could I see your blade?” Hunk asks. Because really, this guy seems nice enough, but they’ve met lots of seemingly nice people in the universe who end up betraying them. Or trying to eat them. Or you know, turn them over to Zarkon or kill them or—

Scaltur sighs. “In the fighting to get away, my blade was unfortunately lost.”

Unfortunate. Or convenient.

Hunk Garrett is not an idiot.

“Look, I do really want to help you, dude, but you gotta give me something. Try to see if from my perspective, you’re in a Galra ship, in Galra armor, you’re not able to even prove you’re part of the Blade and--,”

“I have your Keith,” Scaltur says, yellow eyes soft. “He was the Blade member tasked with retrieving me. His injuries are not life-threatening, but his leg is very badly broken. He informed me the best course of action would be to hail your castle since you were in a nearby system.”

Hunk can feel his heart in his throat.

“Keith? Can I see him? Can I talk to him?” Hunk’s voice comes out in a high whine.

“I have sedated him. He’s strapped down in the emergency cot in the cargo hold now. But he did--,” Scaltur hesitates, before continuing. “I fear he may have been delirious by then, but he did give me a rather odd message. He told me to inform you this was a Code ‘MmmHmmm what do you say?’” Scaltur finishes, like it’s a question.

Oh, Keith.

Hunk nearly smiles.

“Scaltur, you’re cleared for landing. The hangar doors are opening now, we’ll meet you there.”

000

“Poor Keith, I hope he’s not in too much pain,” Allura murmurs as they rush to the newest ship in the hangar.

“Scaltur says he sedated him, so even if he was, he’s probably not feeling it,” Hunk answers as they finally reach the ship.

“Oh trust me, he’s not feeling it,” Lance smirks, standing with Pidge and Scaltur next to the hover stretcher where Keith’s been strapped down and covered in a foil blanket.

“He’s not feeling anything,” Pidge stresses with a smile.

“HUNK!” Keith yelps, wide smile on his face, “Hunk, did you know stars taste like purple Skittles?”

Oh my God.

“Oh my God.”

“I know.” Lance smirks again.

“I fear the pain relief I administered may have reacted rather strongly with young Keith’s human physiology,” Scaltur says, looking bashful.  

“Like, I’m so sorry Keith is hurt, that really sucks, but this may be one of the best days in the history of forever.” Pidge says solemnly.

“So far, we’ve learned that Keith wants to stick Pidge in his pocket, I--,” Lance pauses, preening like a peacock, “Have the most beautiful eyes in the universe. And you, dear Hunk, are his favorite. But shhhh, it’s a secret.” Lance smiles down at Keith fondly.

“Awww, buddy,” Hunk says, choking up, “Is that true?”

“SHHHHHHH issa secret,” Keith whispers loudly. “Lura, Lura can I--,” there’s movement under the blanket, like Keith is trying and failing to raise his arm. “Where’s my arm?” Keith asks, purple eyes growing wide and shiny. “Where’s my arm? I just wanna touch Lura’s fluffy hair. I just—my arm,” Keith wails, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Everyone freezes in shock.

Keith, badass half-alien ninja Keith, is crying.

“Oh, buddy it’s okay, your arm is fine,” Hunk says, kneeling down by his side and wiping the tears away. “I bet Scaltur just wanted to keep you safe for the ride, we’ll get you out soon. Then you’ll go in a pod and feel all better, okay? How’s that sound?”

Keith sniffs and nods, leaning his head into Hunk’s hand still on his cheek.

“You’re so good, Hunk. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

And, oh my God, awwww. Hunk’s about ready to cry himself, but Shiro enters the hangar and interrupts the bonding moment that Keith will probably ‘forget’ anyway.

“What’s taking so long? Coran’s had the pod ready for ages, Keith—,” Shiro says, approaching the stretcher. Keith stares at Shiro strangely, scrunching up his nose.

“Where’s my Shiro?”

Wait, what?

“Uh, mullet, that’s Shiro right there,” Lance says worriedly, before turning to Scaltur, “How strong were those drugs? Are they hurting him? Guys, let’s get him to the infirmary, like, yesterday--,”

“No,” Keith says, still staring up at the very confused Shiro. “No, you’re not my Shiro. Black says so.”

“Keith--,” Shiro begins, looking sad, but Pidge interrupts.

“Where is your Shiro then, Keith?”

Keith bites his lips then closes his eyes, as though he’s thinking very hard.

(Or, Hunk reasons, talking to his lion.)

“Okay,” Keith finally says, opening his eyes with a relieved sigh. “It’s okay, my Shiro’s still here. It’s okay.”

Hunk doesn’t miss the fact that Keith isn’t looking at Shiro when he says it.

000

“I just wanted to say, you’re welcome,” Lance announces the next morning at breakfast.

“I don’t think anyone thanked you, Lance, so I’m not sure why you’re saying it,” Pidge declares.

Lance stands up. “My code, my wonderfully creative, meme-based code, is the only thing our dear, sweet, incredibly high Keith could remember in his most dire moment of need. I practically indirectly saved his life. And to that, I say, you’re welcome.”

Keith shakes his head, then buries his head in his hands. He knows it will be a long, long time before he lives any of this down.

Hunks reaches over and pats his shoulder, grinning. Keith looks up and gives him a small smile.

Lance can say what he likes. Everybody knows who Keith’s favorite really is.

000

That afternoon, before Keith leaves for the Blades with Scaltur, Hunk passes the rec room to find Keith on the couch with Allura sitting in front of him. 

Allura's letting Keith braid her hair. 

Chapter Text

000

“Keith!” the voice crackles from somewhere behind him. “Keith! Lance! Hunk! Allura! P-pidge. Oh God, oh God, please, somebody, anybody respond. Oh my God.”

The Atlas is back online.

Shiro has been through many terrible things in his life. Keith has witnessed both his highs and his lows in the years he’s known him; he’s positive he’s never heard Shiro sound this desolate before.

“Shiro.” It’s barely more than a whisper. Keith can hardly make out his own words over the ringing in his ears.

Shiro hears though.

“Keith,” he chokes out. “Keith, it’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’re—someone will get you soon, don’t worry.” But how can Keith not worry? Nobody else has responded. Earth has been saved, but it feels like Keith is dying.

“Sound off,” Keith breathes out, before closing his eyes. He’s never been so tired before. But he can’t rest. Not yet.

It takes a few moments. But finally, finally—

“L-lance here.” Lance is gasping, and he coughs wetly after speaking.

“Allura….here. I’m here.” Keith’s rather sure he doesn’t imagine the echo of Coran’s choked sob from the bridge of the Atlas.

“Pidge here.” She whimpers. And now Keith knows he doesn’t imagine Commander Holt’s yelp of “Oh, Katie.”

But just like every other time, just like when they were lost in space and felt so abandoned and hopeless and gone, Hunk doesn’t respond.

“Hunk,” Keith breaths, “Hunk, please,” and now Keith has that horrible wet, hacking cough, same as Lance. He sees spots of blood on the visor of his helmet and grimaces. “Don’t—don’t do this n-now.”

Hunk still doesn’t respond.

Instead, he sings.

“Mmmm w-whatcha say, mmmm th-that you only meant well, w-well of course you did--,”

Keith really can’t help it when his eyes fill.

Shiro bursts into tears.

“We’ll get you all, don’t—don’t worry. Just hang tight. Keep talking, please, please, I know you’re all so tired, but no sleeping yet, okay? Just keep talking.

“You saved the world. I’m so—I’m so proud of all of you. You truly are Earth’s greatest defenders.”

Lance lets out another hacking cough and moans. “T-take that, Tony Stark.”

“Who needs the Avengers when y-you’ve got fucking Voltron?” Pidge adds.

“Oh, Katie,” Keith hears Commander Holt sigh fondly.

“I do not know about these Avengers, but--,” Allura begins softly, before Keith’s speakers start crackling painfully in his ears. He’s still wincing when the voices come back a few moments later.

“—get my parents out. P-please, somebody go get them now.” Hunk’s begging.

“We will Hunk. I promise we will. You’ll see them so soon. We have a lock on all of your locations, Veronica’s sending out extraction teams now. Keith, we haven’t heard from you in a while, how you doing?” Shiro asks. Keith can hear it, how much Shiro’s struggling to keep his voice even and calm for them.

How is Keith doing? Black is completely silent. Everything is pretty damn dark in the cockpit. There’s smoke coming up from somewhere in the back. Keith can barely keep his eyes open, his ribs are absolutely broken and he definitely maybe has the worst concussion of his life.

And there’s a pesky shard of metal sticking out of his side.

He hopes everyone else is faring a bit better than him.

“Hey Shiro?” Keith finally asks, voice still not much more than a whisper.

“Yeah, buddy? Yeah, what is it?”

“Thanks—thanks, Shiro. I’m sorry.” Keith had hoped to add a few other things. Another I love you, to Shiro. A promise from someone to pass the same sentiment along to his mother. Ask to be buried next to Dad. Tell his friends—his family what an honor it’s been to fly with them once again.

But that’s all he manages before the world and the pain fade away.

The last thing to fade is the voices on the speakers, begging him to stay awake.

000

When Keith finally wakes up, Shiro is there.

“You little shit,” Shiro gasps, wiping his eyes on his forearm before gripping Keith’s hand. “You little shit, you never get to fucking apologize to me ever again, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Keith says quietly, squeezing Shiro’s hand back. His eyes are closing again, nearly against his will, when he remembers just what made him so tired.

“Shiro!” Keith yelps, horrifically failing in his attempt to sit up. Once he stops choking and the world comes into focus around him again, the first thing he sees is Shiro’s worried scowl.

“Jesus, Keith,” Shiro sighs, gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t do that. Don’t get up yet.”

“Is everybody okay? Are they all alive? What about the Atlas what--,”

Shiro grips his shoulder and grins, “They’re fine, Keith. Everybody’s gonna be okay, they’re in rooms down the hall. Lance punctured his lung, broke a rib in that car crash before the fight even started, but the surgery went well, he’s doing fine. And the Atlas might not fly again for a while, but the crew’s all alive.

“The lions are fine, too. Black’s been going nuts, I can’t believe you don’t hear her yet, she’s been driving me insane. We’ve all just been waiting for you to wake up, Keith.”

“I’m sor--,” Keith begins, and Shiro raises an eyebrow. Keith chuckles. It turns into a cough as Shiro needlessly tucks the blankets more tightly around Keith.

“Your mom’s on her way. I think Kolivan’s coming, too. They should be here in a couple days.” And that makes Keith smile. It’ll be good to see her, he’s missed his mother, missed her dry sense of humor and her hugs.

But for now, Keith’s okay. Earth is safe. His family is alive.

Shiro brushes back Keith’s long hair, careful of the bandage around his head. His gray eyes are shining.  “I’m so glad you’re alright, kiddo.”

And he’s got his brother to keep him company.

000

“It was a beautiful speech. Shiro is very eloquent,” Allura proclaims, clutching Keith’s extra pillow to her stomach.

“It made me cry,” Hunk agrees, as he passes out the last of the the juice boxes before leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

Pidge snorts. “Everything makes you cry, Hunk. It was a pretty great speech, though.” Lance leans across Keith to the other side of the bed and slaps Pidge’s knee.

“Sorry,” Pidge mumbles.

“You know what I want exactly right now?” Lance says, completely changing the subject. “Garlic knots. I want garlic knots from Domino’s in my belly right now. When do you think Domino’s will open again?”

This time Keith snorts. “Three years of occupation by a hostile alien race, and you think the first priority is to open up Domino’s Pizza?” 

“It will be if we say it should be,” Pidge says ominously, evil smirk on her face. “I wonder how long we can milk this saviors of the world shtick. I for one want to know exactly what happened during the Kennedy assassination, but those files are still hard copies so there’s nothing for me to fucking hack--,”

“This is actually an important discussion I’ve been hoping to have with all of you,” Allura interrupts, mouth a hard line. “As Paladins of Voltron and defenders of the universe, you have and will still be given a great deal of power. I expect all of you,” Allura gives Pidge the side eye, “to be good, fair, and just with this power. Many in the universe will come to you seeking advice and guidance, no matter how young you may be. Be prepared. And please, for the love of the Ancients, take this responsibility seriously.”

All four of them nod, and Allura smiles.

“Hey, uh, Allura, not that it’s not good advice and all, but we’ve been Paladins for like,” Hunk scrunches his nose, and begins counting on his fingers, “Okay, well, there’s like a year and a half that we can remember. But we’ve technically been gone from Earth for like four years with our weirdo time warp thing. Then Keith’s got that extra couple years on the time whale, but, I guess he was with the Blades then, and we’ve--,” Hunk sighs, “We’ve been paladins for a while. Why the responsibility speech now?”

Allura lets out a hard breath. “Many things will be different now that we’re back on your world,” she says simply.

Nobody contradicts her. 

“Speaking of which,” she continues, “I think our first use of power should be to recommend instating Shiro as King of Earth as soon as possible.”

Pidge spits up grape juice all over Keith’s bedsheets.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you—Allura, are you serious?”

“That’s not how Earth works!” Lance squeaks, voice a pitch so high it’s giving Keith a headache. “It’s a—well, America’s a democracy, but that’s everybody’s goal, and then there’s like—what 200 countries and everybody comes together, and there used to be the United Nations but with the Galra--,”

“With the Galra, everything changed,” Allura says calmly. “Earth is part of a greater and larger universe now. And it’s a small world, after all.”

Keith leans his head back and closes his eyes when that stupid fucking annoying song starts marching through his aching head.

“We believe in the right of the people to elect their own leaders,” Keith says quietly, eyes still closed. “Even if the people choose wrong, that’s their right. That’s their lesson to learn. It’s part of what freedom means to Earth's people.”

Everyone grows very quiet at his words.

“Besides there’s no fucking way in hell Takashi Shirogane would let anyone make him a king.” Everyone laughs a little at that, before growing quiet again. Allura doesn’t seem happy, but she doesn’t look to protest Keith’s reasoning, either.  

“Okay, not that I don’t agree with Keith, but as Shiro’s awesome and loving family does this mean we’re preventing ourselves from becoming princes and princesses of Earth? Because I’m really not okay with that, I look fantastic in a tiara and my life was practically destined to be a Disney princess movie--,”

“Lance, let it go.” Keith stresses.

Lance beams.

000

After their first physical therapy sessions, Keith, Lance and Shiro flop down flat on the mats, heads together in a circle as they stare at the high ceiling, breathing hard.

“I miss—the pods—so much,” Lance pants to Keith’s left. Keith grimaces.

“At least your leg’s only broken, I can barely walk, it’s like I’m a fucking toddler--,”

“Hey.” Shiro says sharply to his right. “Hey. Positive. We’re being positive. We are all alive and whole—well, mostly whole, but it’s not like that’s new. We are here and we’re alive and that’s all that matters. We can have bad days, but we are going to be positive people now, got it?”

Keith sees Lance nods out of the corner of his eye, so he does the same.

“Good.”

“How’s your arm?” Keith asks. He imagines Shiro’s grimace.

“Eh, weird still, but good weird, I guess? It’s way better than the last one. Feels like it hangs kind of low, but it doesn’t really hurt anymore, so that’s a plus.”

“Good.” Lance and Keith say together. They’re silent for a bit, just lying on the floor together and breathing. Keith finds himself staring at a ceiling fan, becoming entranced by the circular motion. He’s nearly asleep when Shiro sits up next to him, and begins pulling Keith up into a sitting position.

“C’mon, up guys. If you’re going to take a nap, might as well be in your beds.” Keith glares at him as Shiro pulls Keith up to his feet and helps him settle in the nearby wheelchair. Lance doesn’t move.

“No, no, Space Dad, five more minutes, please,” Lance begs. Shiro just picks Lance up off the floor and sets him in the other wheelchair.

“I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy on the new arm,” Keith says. Shiro just smirks.

“Lance doesn’t weigh enough to strain it.”

Lance harrumphs. “I resent that so much.”

“C’mon you little shits, let's--,” Shiro begins, but he’s interrupted by the opening of the gym door.

“Commander Shirogane, you have visitors,” Veronica says, wide smile on her face.

“Who?” Shiro asks, but before she can respond, Veronica is pushed to the side as a dark haired man barrels through.

“Takashi!” The man yelps, sprinting for them.

“Oh,” Shiro whispers, “Oh.” Before he too sprints, meeting the man in the middle of the gym for a hug. They both sink to their knees, and the man wraps one arm tightly around Shiro’s shoulder, his other hand holding Shiro’s head to his neck.

“Takashi. Takashi,” the man whispers. “Jesus Christ, I thought I lost you, you little shit--,” the man gasps out, and Shiro laughs through his tears.

“Who is that?” Lance whispers softly to Keith, eyes wide. Keith wipes his eyes on the crook of his arm and smiles.

“His brother.”

“Ryou,” Shiro gulps, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you were right, I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have gone. I’m so sorry, Ryou.”

“Oh, Takashi, don’t say that. You—you saved the world, kiddo. I’m so proud of you.” Shiro buries his head in Ryou’s shoulder and cries harder.

“Shiro has a brother?” Lance’s mouth drops open in shock, and Keith chuckles wetly. “Shiro has a brother. Shiro has an older brother.”

Lance bursts into tears.

“Lance—Lance, what’s wrong?” Keith asks, startled. Jesus Christ, what does he do, what does he do? Lance has always been an emotional person, but he’s not usually prone to randomly bursting into tears.  Keith settles for putting a hand on Lance’s knee.

“I’m just—I was so sad when we found out Commander Wilder was dead, I mean, he was the best fucking teacher in this place, but also I just—I know they broke up, but I wanted Shiro to have that happily ever after, y’know? I wanted him to have somebody on Earth waiting for him, somebody who was gonna call him Takashi and wished every day that he was coming home safe.

“And then we found out Adam d-died,” Lance takes a shuddering breath, “And I’m still so sad about it. But Shiro has a brother. Shiro has somebody who calls him a little shit and gives him big hugs and prayed every day that he’d come home safe. Shiro has somebody who loves him the way he loves us.” Lance wipes a hand under his nose then looks up at Keith, “I’m just so happy.”

“Ryou, Ryou, come see my friends,” Shiro says suddenly, standing up and grabbing Ryou’s hand with his flesh one, pulling his grinning brother along. Keith had forgotten just how much the Shirogane brothers resembled each other. Ryou’s hair is still black, and it’s a bit longer than Shiro ever lets his get. But they have the same dark eyes, the same wide smile. Ryou has some lines around his eyes and mouth, born of age instead of stress, and instead of a scar on his nose he has a smattering of freckles.

But really, he could be Shiro’s clone.

The good kind, that is.

“You remember Keith,” Shiro says once they approach, and Ryou leans down, pulling Keith into a gentle hug.

“Hi, Ryou,” Keith chokes out, remembering Ryou’s invitation to Christmas dinner the month after Shiro ‘died.’ Remembering the arm around his shoulder at the memorial, and the way Ryou, and Adam, too, had fought so fiercely to keep him from being expelled from the Garrison. Keith had been so wrapped up in his grief for Shiro then, he’d ignored all the people Shiro had unexpectedly given him. 

“Hey buddy,” Ryou says softly, “Thanks for taking care of him out there. I should’ve paid more attention to your and Katie’s conspiracy theories back then, huh?” Ryou says with a wink, and Keith finds himself laughing.

“And this is Lance McClain--,” Shiro says, but Lance has already pulled Ryou into a tight hug, nearly choking the man.

“OH my goodness, you’re the reason Shiro’s such a good big brother, I’m so glad Shiro has a big brother, I’m so glad you’re his brother--,” Lance babbles, still crying. Shiro sniffles at the words and puts a warm hand on Keith’s shoulder as he wipes his eyes.  

Ryou just smiles warmly and pats Lance’s hair. “It’s good to meet you, too, Lance.”

“Daddy?” a small voice questions from across the gym. There’s a little boy in the doorway, holding Veronica’s hand. He can’t be more than three or four, dark hair and eyes and wide smile leaving no question as to whose child he is.

“Hey, kiddo, c’mere,” Ryou says, finally letting go of Lance and beckoning the small boy forward. He runs across the room and jumps into his dad’s outstretched arms.

“This,” Ryou begins, turning to face Shiro, “is your Uncle Takashi.” The boy tilts his head, taking in Shiro. His scars and his white hair. His tall muscled build and Altean arm.

Shiro bites his lip before giving the boy a small, shocked smile. “Hi, buddy. It’s--,” Shiro takes a shuddering breath. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. What’s your name?”

The boy outstretches his arms, and Shiro takes him immediately, settling him on his hip. The boy beams.

“My name’s Takashi, just like you!”

Lance doesn’t stop crying for three hours.

000