Chapter Text
The way the comms work always impresses him. On the Kerberos mission they dealt with a comm delay that stretched into the hours, so that Shiro always felt cut adrift; like an ancient mariner lost at sea. But the Castle has something approaching an ansible system, and the message relays are almost instantaneous. He has to take Black a long, long way from the Castle before any communication delay becomes actually noticeable.
But right now, today, he's lightyears out, on the other side of a wormhole, checking in on an abandoned base for any signs of life. Allura didn't come with him for this. The mission wasn't deemed urgent enough - the base is small, scans showed nothing in the wider system, and he's just here to give it a once-over and make a tactical assessment of the location. He brought Hunk in Yellow instead, and a couple of scientists to check the base's systems.
He takes Black and runs laps of the moon where the installation is based; sweeping up and out in a wide orbit, scanning the whole system with Black's sensors and his own quintessence, extended out into the void. He's getting better at that particular trick, but today he doesn't sense anything.
The comm flickers, and the screen pops up. The display at the top blinks amber at him: a delay. They really are far from home. It's the Castle, and Allura's personal code blinks at him from the HUD.
"Go ahead," he says.
He counts the seconds before his response travels there and back, and then the screen flickers and Allura's face appears.
"Shiro," she says. "How's the base?"
This far out, he can't sense her. Up close, he catches her emotions as they ripple out through her quintessence. Ever since she carried his soul in her body and brought him out of the astral plane, they've stayed… connected. But only when they're physically close enough for their energy to resonate. Out here, he's too far away from her to share her feelings.
"It looks promising," he says. "Still in good condition, but it'll need some work. But I think the locations a good one. Over."
He sits and waits; watches Allura's face on the screen. Her hair is in a braid down one side of her face, and it looks pretty, but he can never figure out how to tell her that.
"That's good," Allura replies eventually. "I just wanted to run something by you, if that's alright?"
Her fingers thread through the ends of her hair, and her brows pull together just a little - just the tiniest, subtlest hint of apprehension. Why is she calling him long-distance for something they could discuss when he gets back?
"Sure, go ahead," he says. Black rounds the moon, and Shiro wheels the Lion to a halt and hangs there, looking down at the base and the gas giant swirling peacefully behind it.
"Prince Torin asked me to accompany him to a Galra-occupied world," Allura says. She looks off-screen as she says it, and Shiro's not sure if she's looking at the Prince or just… away from him. Maybe she just can't meet his gaze right now. The thought stings more than it should.
"He wants to give me the tour," she goes on. "He thinks this world could serve as a model for the reformed Empire. I want to see what he's talking about, and what it's like. If we can find a way to change things for the Empire's colonies, it gives us an avenue to stop the war."
Shiro fights to keep the scowl off his face. He disagrees, and Allura knows that. Maybe that's why she's talking to him about it over the comms, and not face-to-face.
"Is this safe?" Shiro asks. "I don't like the risks involved with something like this."
"There's no risk," Allura says. "I'll be with Torin the whole time. I trust him, Shiro. He means well, and he has some ideas that could help us. I think it's a good idea to go and see this settlement."
"Then why are you asking me?"
"Because I value your opinion."
He stares at her face on the screen, and tries to read her expression: the softness in her eyes, the crease in her brow, the tightness around her mouth. They're going to argue about this again, and Shiro hates it. Allura hates it too; he can tell how much it upsets her whenever they disagree and butt heads, because her quintessence gets churned up and messy.
"You know I don't trust Torin." Shiro tries to keep his voice even and matter-of-fact. "And no matter how nice this colony is, it's still an occupied territory. We should be focusing on dismantling the Empire, not giving it a make-over."
He sits and waits for her reply. The seconds tick by, and the starlight glitters outside, and he waits for her disagreement and dissent. Why can't they get on the same page anymore? Ever since Prince Torin turned up - spoiled son of the Emperor, supposed champion of reform and advocate for the masses - it's like they can't agree on anything anymore.
"We need to be pragmatic about this," Allura says, and Shiro hears the tension in her voice. Maybe that's why she did this over the comms - so he can't sense her annoyance and disappointment through the link they share. But he picks up on it, just the same. He's too good at reading her.
"Torin is offering us a solution, and I want to pursue it. If it doesn't work out, we'll consider other options - but we shouldn't rule it out."
"I don't think it's a solution at all," Shiro says. "I think it's just more imperial propaganda."
She snaps. He watches it on her face - the delayed reaction to his words as the comm relay buffers on her end. She frowns, and huffs, and crosses her arms.
"I don't understand why you insist on thinking the worst of Prince Torin." Her tone is harsh and imperious; her words clipped and short. "He's trying to help us. I'm going with him because he's giving us a way to end the war, and I want to at least give him the benefit of the doubt."
"You're going with him because you like him," Shiro says. He doesn't mean to. He's done his best to keep those words locked away inside, because they reek of jealousy and bitterness. But it's true. She likes him. He's charming and handsome and knows all the right words to say, and whenever they're together Shiro senses the thrill of excitement that Allura feels whenever Torin smiles at her.
She used to feel that way about him. Shiro used to be able to make her heart skip just by smiling at her. He knows that, because he felt it in her quintessence whenever they got close. But now all they do is argue, and Torin has swooped in with his own smiles and pleasantries, and Shiro is left on the side lines.
"You're right," Allura says. "I do like him. But that's not why I'm going. This isn't a pleasure trip. It makes sense for our mission. I'm capable of doing my job without getting distracted by my feelings."
"And you think I'm not?" Shiro asks, because that last comment came with hidden barbs echoing between the words.
"I think you're being petty and unreasonable," Allura snaps. "You don't like Prince Torin for personal reasons, and you're letting that cloud your judgment."
Shiro bites his lip and looks away from her, before he says something else he'll regret. It's not true. He has plenty of reasons to dislike Prince Torin, such as his questionable politics and superficial charm and handwaving of imperial atrocities. But beneath all that is an undercurrent of petty jealousy that he can't shake. Because Allura likes Torin. Allura wants to spend time with him. Allura smiles at him and tucks her hair behind her ears and gets self-conscious around him, and it rips Shiro's heart out of his chest every time he sees it.
But he doesn't just see it. He feels it, too; through the bond they share, through the inextricable linking of their quintessence. Their souls were bound together, somehow, in that strange glittering darkness of the astral plane that he doesn't truly remember. Their souls are connected, but it's still not enough. They still can't agree, or find common ground.
"My judgement is fine," Shiro says. "I'm just being cautious. Our mission is to end the Galra Empire, not help them extend it."
"Our mission is to bring peace," Allura says coolly.
Shiro stares at her. Maybe it's best they're not close enough to feel each other's emotions, because he's a storm of pain and bitterness and childish envy right now, and he hates it, and he hates that he doesn't know how to make it stop.
"Go if you want," he says eventually. "But be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"You can like him if you want to," Shiro adds, his voice so quiet it barely carries. Out here, he can say that, because Allura won't feel the way his energy spikes and dips; she won't sense the wave of regret and sadness that comes with it.
"He's a good man, Shiro," Allura says. "And he's trying to help us. I'm sorry you can't see that."
She hesitates, as if she means to say something more. Then her face settles into the neutral expression of a leader doing their job and putting personal feelings aside.
"Complete the base scans. I'll let you know when I'm ready to wormhole you back."
The screen goes blank, and Shiro stares at the blinking display where her face used to be.
Why did their energy have to merge together? Why did their souls have to link? It's painful enough to watch her fall for someone else; it's infinitely worse to catch the echo of every joyful smile and self-conscious blush, writ large and bright in the quintessence that ripples out of her. If they were together, it would be glorious and beautiful and breath-taking. But they're not, and so when her happiness surges through him, it leaves a thousand tiny pinpricks in its wake. When the thrill of being wanted makes her energy dance and shimmer, it burns through Shiro's soul like a merciless fire.
They are so close their souls occupy the same space; and yet at the same time, the distance between them is greater than ever. He doesn't know how it happened, only that it crushes his heart until he aches with the weight of it.
He feels everything she's feeling. But he can't feel his way back to her.