Archive of Our Own

Striking beams of purple light blinded Keith’s vision, making him lose focus. The harsh rays burned through his eyelids and filled his forehead and retinas with an intense prickling sensation. He didn’t know what was worse, opening his eyes, or keeping them closed. In his ears were faint whispers that sounded like haunting winds, swooping around his head and filling him with destructive thoughts.

“You are nothing. Your reckless decisions put Voltron in danger. You should have never become the leader.”

“Your team fears you. They know of your Galran blood. They dread the day when your hotheaded impulsiveness and temper will turn you against them.”

“The Galra, like you and your Mother, are monsters. Everyone wants them dead. Do you think they will stop once they’ve eradicated the others? No, they will come for you next. Tear you apart. Dispose of you before you can turn against them. Dangerous, filthy Halfling.”

Keith groaned audibly as the voices grew louder and louder, filling up his brain and making him unable to think, unable to fight. Unable to do anything except receiving the pain. In this realm, he had no perspective of the space-time continuum. How long had this been going on for? Minutes? Hours? Days? It felt like an eternity. A living hell he could never escape from. Invisible hands clasped around his throat to squeeze the last of life out of him, but Keith persisted. No way he would end here. Not now. Not when there was a world out there that needed saving.

As always, the pain ceased in the end, and the massive relief that followed from regaining his breath and headspace made him fall to the floor in exhaustion. Finally. He had survived yet another one of these crazy tests. He wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t let himself fall to this mystical force. His team needed him. The universe needed him.

He expected his vision to fade again as it used to, or a repressed memory to return to the surface, but nothing happened, and the prickling in his eyes ceased. Keith opened them carefully, expecting a sudden sting of pain from the overwhelming light. Instead, he was surprised to find that his eyes adjusted, opening themselves to reveal a black seemingly infinite space covered in transparent, glowing, purple cubes. What was this place?

“Keith Kogane, Black Paladin of Voltron.” Keith immediately spun on his heel, instinctively grabbing for his sword before realizing he was unarmed. He balled his fists and raised them from his sides, trying his best to seem dangerous and not over-exerted and scared. Failing to locate the source of the voice, he kept his arms high, listening for any signs of an oncoming attack.

“Who’s there?” No one answered him. Keith was about to shout once again when a veil of smoke appeared in front of him, lifting to reveal an all too familiar creature.

“You!” He yelled, running towards the witch at full speed, intent on striking her down. Lunging forward only for his fist to punch into thin air, Haggar nowhere to be seen. A sharp, shrilling noise could be heard from afar, and Keith instinctively veered left, avoiding a piercing buzz of light aimed at his back. When he turned, she had vanished again, and a faint laugh echoed in Keith’s ears.

“What do you want from me?” The voice – Haggar’s voice – chuckled.

“Simple. I want you. Your raw, unfledged powers. Your anger. Your impulsiveness. Your Galran instincts. We both know you don’t belong on this ship. You’re not one of them. You’re an outcast. A monster. A Halfling. Give in and embrace your faith. Release the forces inside of you like you so desperately crave.” A lulling comfort lazed the voice and made Keith feel drowsy. He desperately fought to keep his arms in combative position, willing his eyes to stay open.

What was this power she was speaking of? Sure, Keith was headstrong and impulsive, with a knack for acting first and thinking later. But that was just his instincts, something ingrained deeply in his core. It was not a weapon of mass destruction like Haggar tried to market it as. Not his Galra side taking over and dominating him, was it?

Something flickered in his side-vision, and Keith desperately tried to catch a glimpse of it. But all he could see was a flash of purple, and the same kind of dark smoke. Only weaker. Was someone else listening in on this conversation?

“I want nothing to do with you!” Keith yelled, once again resisting the urge to collapse. How had the witch gotten into his mind? Why did she have any interest in him? Hadn’t she parted from the Galrans? None of this made any sense to him, and Keith struggled to keep himself sane. Was this what his hauntings had been this entire time?

“You belong nowhere, Keith Kogane. Not with the humans, nor with the Galrans. Just like my son, you are trapped in the wedge between two people, both seeing you as foreign and dangerous. With me, your talents would be nourished, and your true worth acknowledged. Together, we could make all the ones who have ever looked down on you perish. Together, we could create a new reality in which you are respected. Don’t you wish to know how your life could have been if your mother never left? If your father never died a tragic death. I could make it happen.” Keith’s mind faltered. Could she really?

Another flicker, a puff of smoke appearing right next to him. He swore he could see a face in there. A galran face? Altean? He wasn’t sure. It seemed like a mix of the two, but the blur made it impossible for him to identify.

Lies. Lies. Lies. The word seemed to echo in Keith’s mind. Then the witch lifted her hand, and the smoke disappeared, together with the strange voice. She seemed visibly annoyed, as if the smoke was a disturbance she had not planned for. Keith could be wrong, but once again he felt as though there was a third presence in this room. In his mind. Was this presence an enemy, or an ally?

“You’re lying! All you want is to use me as a pawn in your evil scheme! I’m not surrendering!” He charged at her once again, cursing when she vanished into thin air.

“You will crack eventually. They all do.”

“Stay away from me!” The dark mass of smoke swooped down from above and flushed through Keith, making his vision falter and his nostrils flare from the smell of burnt grass. Then the cubed room vanished, and he was falling. Deeper, deeper down an endless pit of darkness. His soul seemed to float outside of his body, and everything became a blur. Was this how he would heave his final breath?

Keith’s lungs expanded until it felt like his chest was about to explode, and he gasped greedily for air. Drenched in sweat, he jolted up into sitting position, clenching a hand to his chest to calm down his ragged breathing. That had been the most intense of the dreams yet. Whatever had been haunting him had finally shown itself, and the aspect of knowing who it was didn’t calm Keith in the slightest. In fact, it terrified him even more.

Haggar – no, Honerva – was clearly keeping an eye on him. She probably manifested as Haggar because of Keith’s mind. Her appearance was the one he was most familiar with.  It seemed she was not only watching him. She was trying to break him from the inside out, to turn him on his team and the other defenders of the universe. She wanted to release some “power” from within him that Keith didn’t even know existed. Some force seemingly connected to his Galran ancestry. A monster? The thought completely terrified him.

The sight that met him when he finally looked down to examine himself was even more terrifying. Long, sharp claws had erupted from his cuticles. The kind that could slice a man’s throat with one touch. Keith instantly jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror, doing his best to contain his urge to scream in agony when slit, yellow irises met his gaze. A monster indeed.

‘That’s the Keith I remember.’

Calming his ragged breathing, Keith focused all his energy into retracting his claws and changing his eyes back to normal. He didn’t know how he possessed the ability to do that, let alone to revert the action. Kuron’s voice echoed in his head, and the feeling of losing control reminded him of that night. The night he thought he would lose his brother. This was bad. Really bad. Even Keith understood that this wasn’t something to ignore and hope it would pass.

The rational side of his brain told him to talk to Shiro immediately. He would know what to do. However, another voice appeared and told him to bottle it up. Team Voltron and the crew aboard the Atlas had more than enough worries to begin with, Keith showing up with his “strange dreams” and uncontrolled transformations would only cause a panic. There was nothing they could do about the connection between him and Honerva. It was probably the result of her quintessence-related powers. Best to not worry the team unnecessarily.

 Still, Keith had to admit he was scared. Continuous nights of dreadful sleep, followed by days where he worked himself to his limits to lead the team. It took a tremendous toll on him. He constantly worried about the visions and dreams, terrified that he would slip into them in an awakened state. That he would lose focus during battle and make irrational, dangerous choices that would cost the lives of others. Keith would never be able to forgive himself if Voltron were to perish because of him. His friends. His brother. His long lost mother. All the people he cared for were on this ship. All with targets on their back. And if Keith didn’t stay 100 % focused at all times, their death could be his responsibility.

He had almost went and gotten himself killed by Zethrid, he had recklessly charged himself into battle on numerous occasions without success, and when Honerva harvested the quintessence from the White Lion, Keith was helpless to stop her. Sometimes he still wondered if the team had been better off with Shiro as their captain.

In battle, he did his best to put his insecurities aside and fight for his team. They deserved a fearless, reflected leader who worked his hardest to gain their respect, so that was what Keith had become. His connection to the Black Lion grew stronger every day, and he had felt confident when they left Earth to defeat the Galra forces ones and for all. Now the visions had planted seeds of doubt in his mind and weakened his physical state. He felt less like a leader than ever.

Maybe he could tell Lance. His heart twitched in his chest at the prospect of keeping secrets from his right hand man. His friend. His lover? The nature of their relationship was still a matter left unresolved, as war doesn’t leave one with too much time to discuss such trivial things. Besides, Keith had no experience in that realm. How was he supposed to approach the subject with Lance? Was he allowed to be more forward now? Was it expected of him?

Keith had enough on his mind without needing to think of Lance, which made dealing with their recent relationship change even more strenuous. All he wanted was to figure out both his feelings and Lance’s, develop what was so clearly bobbing beneath the surface. Unfortunately, winning an intergalactic war was a far more important matter. It affected countless of civilizations across the universe. Choosing to spend their time on relationship issues would be incredibly egocentric of them both in times like this. Still, sometimes Keith wished he could just run away with Lance. Responsibilities be damned.

Splashing water into his clearly sleep-sunken face, Keith grabbed a shirt from his nightstand to dress himself for another day at the Atlas. Gathering his clothes and his headphones to head out for breakfast, he heard a somewhat distorted voice coming from the other side of the wall.

“Hello, this is lieutenant Ryan Kinkade, MFE pilot. The time is 0600 hours. It’s day 47.”

Why was Ryan talking to himself? And who would even bother to care what fucking day it was in the middle of a war? Keith had lost count sometime after the first week, seeing no need to have yet another set of information to remember. And here Keith had thought he was the one turning mad. Going on a cruise across the universe to beat up purple space aliens clearly affected people’s heads. Keith was sure happy he had a private bedroom.

Keith decided to go for a run before breakfast, and headed to the training room. He didn’t expect there to be so many people already flooding the floor lifting weights, doing push-ups and generally chatting. For every day that passed by, the Atlas crew got up earlier, and they were increasingly more guarded. In other words, the complete opposite of how Keith was feeling. A couple of weeks ago he would have this place to himself as long as he got up well before seven. The others had better start valuing their sleep again soon; having to interact with people at this time of day made him feel uneasy. Well, at least he had his headphones.

Keith had just settled into a steady running pace when a camera unit zoomed in on him, invading his personal bubble. He swatted at it as though it was an annoying fly, and heard a deep laugh coming from his left. Whipping his head, he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s brown, messy dreadlocks, the pilot passing by him to join his teammates by the barbells. He turned to give him a quick nod of acknowledgement, seemingly completely oblivious to the impoliteness of shoving a camera to someone’s face without warning. Keith nodded back. Had he been running next to him just now? Wow, his instincts had really started to dull.

Suddenly curious about the whole “carrying a camera” ordeal, Keith decided to turn off his headphones and eavesdrop at their conversation.

“28, 29, 30…” Kinkade counted loudly as he lifted himself by his arms, his muscles flexing from exertion with every pull up. Keith could do twice as many per set, but he still thought the performance was impressive.

James and Romelle approached Ryan, eyeing his camera with interest. Romelle spoke first, her voice orotund and curious.

“You’re recording? Why?” James’s lips curled up into a slightly awkward smile.

“Kinkade has always been, uth…” he stopped for a quick second to weigh his words, “an individual who’s most comfortable observing and reflecting on life. Being a fighter pilot was actually his back-up plan.” As James finished, Kinkade approached the camera and abruptly grabbed it with his hand to turn it off, making James flinch slightly. Keith shrugged his shoulders before putting his headphones back on. This was clearly something he wasn’t supposed to understand.

A few minutes of panting and sweating later, Keith slowed down the treadmill to a walk and checked the time: 0653. That means Lance is probably up. His heart fluttered. Maybe he should go look for him. Approaching him in a setting different from being just friends still felt strange and uncomfortable. Keith wasn’t quite used to the fact that Lance knew he was into him, let alone that he actually reciprocated the feelings.

It didn’t help that Lance had been visibly stressed about Allura and her unstable mental state, combined with Keith growing increasingly insecure about his abilities each passing day. He knew that that Lance wasn’t interested in Allura anymore, he had made that crystal clear, but jealousy still pooled in his chest at Lance hovering over her every second of the day to make sure she was ok. Keith was hurting too. Besides, Lance needed to take care of his own mental health. None of them had the excess energy to act as another’s psychologist, not even Lance.

Keith knew Lance struggled with problems of his own. Inferiority complexes, anxiety, stress. He just chose to hide it behind a mask of humor and a relentlessly positive attitude. It fooled the team well enough, but not Keith. So when Lance chose to dedicate all of his time to make the princess feel better, Keith couldn’t help but feel a little angry with her for letting him. Granted, Allura bore a heavy burden, but so did the rest of the team. It wasn’t fair that Lance had to hold her up at all times to keep her functioning. Hell, he had already sacrificed his life for her. What more was he supposed to do?

How was Keith supposed to tell him that without sounding like a jealous brat though? That was the real question. If they had only communicated as well outside of the battlefield as they did when they fought together. Things would have been considerably easier then.

In battle, Lance and Keith had a remarkable connection, instantly knowing what their partner wanted and needed in that moment. A pairing strong enough to defeat any enemy approaching them. However, as soon as they stepped out of their lions, they became almost like strangers. The added romantic tension combined with the stress made them dance around each other on eggshells, terrified of ruining whatever they were slowly building up. Neither of them knew how to process their new relationship or how to act around the other. It had gotten so awkward that Pidge had actually approached him and apologized for the jokes she had made that morning under the oak, fearing she was the reason for their bad communication. They were a mess. How could Keith take the first step to break them away from this repetitive circle?

It turned out that he would get his chance even faster than he thought. Keith had joined Pidge at the breakfast table, poking at his potato salad (or at least that’s what he thought it was) with a fork, not really in the mood to eat. Pidge gulfed down something that looked like a plain donut with an enormous appetite. She never seemed to pass up a meal, even in the darkest of times. He eventually took a bite of the weird, white mash, and grimaced at the taste. Pidge had the audacity to laugh at him, and for a full second, Keith considered what it would be like to push her face into the plate. No one should get on his bad side in the morning.

A far too awake and excited Nadia Rizavi soon interrupted their peace, Kinkade dragging along behind her. They sat down across from them and started setting up their camera, all while Keith and Pidge sent them curious looks.

“Okay, we’re set.” Kinkade said, breaking the silence. Keith eyed him quizzically, and Kinkade nodded towards the camera. Why would they want to film them? He didn’t get the time to ask, as the red button signaling the start of their recording lit up with a flash. Guess I’ll just go along with whatever they’re trying to do. The sooner I comply, the sooner I can eat in peace. Pidge seemed to have the same mindset as him, now attentively facing the camera and awaiting instructions.

“So, catch us up on what’s going on.” Rizavi was so eager she was positively beaming with energy. Keith had never understood how people could be so joyful in the morning. It was vexatious. Luckily, Pidge stepped in to answer. Keith had no idea what these people wanted from him.

“Right. Well, the Atlas is headed to the Grei-Aye system, where we’ve identified the remains of a disabled Robeast.” This somehow caused Rizavi to become increasingly fervent, her voice going up into a high, annoying shrill.

“Oh! Those things are pretty dangerous, right?” The look Kinkade threw her was not at all amused. Were they really cooperating on this project?

The question had Pidge going off on a tangent, her hazel eyes focused intently on Rizavi. “Do I need to explain that the Robeast was one of the ones used in Honerva’s intergalactic ritual?” Rizavi brushed her off.

“No, it’s fine.” Again, Kinkade threw her a look that said he would’ve been more than happy to have Pidge continue her speech about Altean mechs. They were an unlikely duo.

“Okay,” Pidge was thrown off for a second but quickly regained her composure, “Um, so, once the Atlas arrives in orbit around the planet, the other paladins and I will head down to the surface to secure the Robeast and hopefully find its Altean pilot.”

While Pidge was talking, Keith only listened halfheartedly, constantly scanning the room for a familiar mop of brown hair and cinnamon skin. Lance had to be up by now, hadn’t he? He would never miss breakfast, and frequently scolded Keith whenever he did, claiming that it was the most important meal of the day. Keith knew he was right, but would never admit it to his face.

Was he sick? The food in space wasn’t the best, and combined with fluctuations when riding the Atlas, and general exhaustion from constant battles with both the Galra and Honerva, it wouldn’t be too strange if he had caught some sort of space flu or vomiting bug. Keith decided to bring back some food to his room if he didn’t show. Someone had to make sure he was all right, and maybe it would give them a chance to be alone and talk. God knows they needed that.

As soon as the thought manifested in his head, Keith caught a glimpse of blue, and suddenly Lance was sat on the table next to him, absentmindedly pushing his food around like Keith had only a few minutes prior. He was visibly upset, and only willing to meet his eyes for a few seconds. Was he just tired, or did this behavior have something to do with Keith? Lance was hard to read sometimes, and Keith wasn’t exactly gifted in the communications department to begin with. He tried shooting him a small smile, which probably came out a lot more strained than intended. The smile was returned, but it didn’t reach Lance’s eyes.

“Ugh! Okay” Rizavi shifted in her seat, turning to face him, visibly bored with Pidge’s explanation. “Keith! Why don’t you tell us about the dangers of this mission?” Once again, her voice reached that strange octave that made her sound like a cackling witch. How was it possible to have such a displeasing voice? Keith prayed for access to more coffee in space. He definitely needed it to survive Rizavi’s mood today.

Staring into the camera, Keith saw his own puzzled expression reflected in the lens. What was he even supposed to say? The MFE pilots were well aware of the dangers of this mission. Why the sudden excitement for him to explain it of all people? Did she need a reminder? And why did they bring along that stupid camera everywhere? Keith should probably stop asking himself questions that he couldn’t answer. Instead, he straightened up and tried to ignore the uncomfortable tension in his limbs from being on display like this. It was highly uncomfortable.

“Well,” he started, voice flat and eyes focused on Kinkade. He couldn’t bear another second under Rizavi’s penetrating stare. “Every mission has some inherent dangers. For this one we have to be especially diligent about the Robeast. Even if it’s not fully functional it can still pose and extreme threat. Combine that with the hostile Altean that’s probably still in the vicinity, and you potentially got threats on multiple fronts.” As opposed to when Pidge had the word, Rizavi was now listening intently, and it seemed Kinkade was interested as well.

“Wow! That sounds really dangerous. Kinda like a badass action movie! And you’re the fearless leader with the bravery and strategic genius to lead Team Voltron to victory!” Keith blushed at the compliment, feeling even more out of his element. Shifting his gaze to the table beside them, he saw Lance stab the green peas on his plate with pursed lips, visibly pretending not to listen to their conversation. He hadn’t left a single piece of his food untouched, everything now in a unappetizing mush on his plate. A switch was flipped in Keith’s mind, almost as if his brain emitted an “oh” to the rest of his body. Why didn’t he notice before? It had been so blatantly obvious. Keith knew exactly how to make Lance feel better.

“You know, I’m mostly just a loose cannon firing hits and yelling at the team to stay together. Lance is the real tactician on the team. He knows how to calm this hothead down, lay out a well-founded plan of attack, and deliver clear shots directly at the target when needed. Without him, I’d be a terrible team leader.” He might have amped up the praise for effect, but Keith meant every single word, and he couldn’t help the fond smile he threw in Lance’s direction.

Said boy was now choking on his food in a pretty non-attractive manner. Red, hot and bothered by the sudden attention on him. It only took a few seconds for him to shake it off though, and soon he seemed proud and confident from the praise he had just received. Keith’s lips curled upwards again, smiling more sincerely than he had in weeks. This time he received a full-blown grin in return. A warm glow filled his chest, embers of a growing fire settling in his stomach, reminding him of how hard he was falling for that smile. Of how the owner of that smile was falling for him. How could he possibly be this lucky?

“Ooooh. Lance, why don’t you tell us about the tactics for today’s mission!” Rizavi beamed, and Lance mirrored her enthusiasm, arms frantically gesticulating as he went on about the dangers of the mission and the various mechanics of Voltron. Keith kept staring at the flood of passion in his ocean blue eyes. How they seemed to glow with light like a reflection of the sun on crystal clear water.

Pidge elbowed him teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows while wiping imaginary drool from her chin. Normally, Keith would have been beyond annoyed at this, but there was no room for negative emotions in that moment. Only a fondness so deep it struck him to his very core. He needed Lance. Needed him as much as the oxygen filling his lungs, as much as the blood pumping through his veins. Lance had become an essential piece in Keith’s puzzle of life, and he felt strangely empty without him. Nothing could compare to that blending smile and those piercing cobalt eyes. No one could ever replace him.

“… And that was the story of the first time Keith and I formed the wings of Voltron.” Lance finished with a self-indulgent smile, looking as though he was about to vibrate out of his skin from the excitement of being filmed. It was nice to know that someone enjoyed this kind of attention. Both Pidge and Keith were more than happy with giving up the spotlight to Lance.

“Do you wanna hear another story?” he chimed, but was quickly interrupted by Hunk stumbling in from the kitchen, as nosy and curious as usual.

“Hey guys. What’s up? You making a movie? Cool. Can I be in it? Now, wait, if this is an action move… is it? I don’t wanna be in it.” That was a mouthful. Everyone stared at him in utter confusion, only catching about half of what the yellow paladin had just said.

“Hunk, we’re trying to do an interview here.” Rizavi groaned, rolling her eyes at him.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, my bad. I just came out to see if you wanted to try this new recipe I’ve been experimenting with.” Hunk tried to apologize, but ended up stealing the attention of the room as he lifted his clock and revealed a delicious brown pastry topped with white, creamy custard and flakes of what Keith believed to be coconut. Kinkade’s mouth immediately watered, and the camera was moved from a clearly insulted Lance to focus on Hunk’s newest creation.

“This is just the first pass. The final version of it will be coming soon.” Before he could continue, Bae Bae’s intense whining interrupted him. The dog ran towards them with its tail wagging high, tongue flat out of its mouth and drooling heavily, Bae Bae eagerly attempted to jump up and snatch Hunk’s cake from his hands, much to his dismay.

“No Bae Bae! Not for you!” He yelled, withdrawing the cake from the dogs range. Lance snickered at the exchange, and Keith still thought that laugh was the most beautiful sound. Like the soft chime of a wind-bell in summer breeze. Everything about Lance was beautiful.

Bae Bae sat down politely at Hunk’s feet, still wagging its tail with excitement, but more controlled after being scolded. Hunk smiled apologetically down at it. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ll make you some doggy treats later.”

“What’s the recipe? Can we watch you work?” Kinkade’s coffee eyes were still intently focused on Hunk, and he seemed more excited than during the entire exchange with the other paladins. Rizavi scoffed at him in the background as the camera zoomed in on Hunk’s pastry once again.

“Well, yeah. Yeah, this’ll be great. I’ve secretly always wanted my own cooking show.” Kinkade nodded eagerly at his response, but Rizavi was visibly irked by his decision.

“What? No!” She exclaimed, running up to Hunk, annoyance plastered across her face. “Lance was just telling us about the mission and all the dangers! We’re not losing that to document cooking!”

Keith lost the rest of the argument, too occupied with nudging the back of Lance’s hand with his own. When cobalt eyes met amethyst, he felt heat feather out in the crest of his cheeks, a nervous smile blossoming. It was a good nervous this time, a nervous filled with anticipation for what he hoped was to come. As Lance smiled back at him, somewhat shyly biting his lower lip, Keith decided to be brave. Slotting their fingers together, he leaned in closer, slowing his erratic heartbeat.

“It seems they’re done with the whole hero-documentary thing for now. You wanna go somewhere more private? Just you and me. To catch up on… things.” Always so articulate. Both retracted their gazes and blushed, but Lance squeezed Keith’s hand in response, sending a jolt of electricity all the way down to his toes.

“… I’d like that a lot,” he mumbled, shifting his feet, eyes focusing on Keith’s knees rather than his face. Cute.

As if on cue, sirens began blaring, and Lance dropped his hand, looking up at him with worried eyes. Keith knew it wasn’t appropriate, but he felt petty. Why couldn’t he have anything nice without the universe swooping in needing to be saved? Just a few minutes. A few minutes alone with Lance, not having to worry about crazy visions or intergalactic wars. A few minutes without having the fate of the universe on his still immature shoulders. Was that too much to ask?

“Everyone go to their battle stations immediately. I repeat… battle stations immediately. This is not a drill.” Lance started running as soon as the message was broadcasted, turning to throw a sad smile at Keith over his shoulder. Apparently it was.

Keith felt his lion whimper in pain at a particularly hard thrust to its side from a massive tentacle that took him off guard and made him plummet downwards.

“Keith!” He veered just at the right second, barely missing the ground. That voice always kept him on guard. Always had his back.

“You ok?” Lance’s distorted voice barely reached him through the monitor, something had to have happened with his communication gear.

“I’m good! Not hearing you too well though.” He answered, his hands flying over the controllers to get his connection back up and running. Black’s presence was in the back of his mind, calm and controlled, guiding him through the motions. Keith took a deep breath, steadying himself. Patience yields focus.

The screen was brought back to life, his panel lighting up and the other paladin’s yet again visible on his monitor.

“He’s back online, Shiro!” Allura signaled to the Atlas, Blue sending a ray of ice in his direction to keep the monster at bay.

“Good!” Shiro responded, voice slightly coated in worry. After being assured that Keith was ok, Shiro immediately focused on the incoming threat, signaling for his team to examine the creature closer. “Iverson, fire when ready!”

Keith took a loop around the area to get a better overview of the situation. The monster beneath them was huge and green, armed with 12 long, slimy tentacles erupting from its body. It was impossible to determine where the head was, as its entire core was covered in mouths of various sizes, all armed with row upon row of razor sharp teeth. No eyes were in sight, but the beast clearly had a way of sensing where the lions were situated at all times, lunging out for them with impeccable accuracy.

“This thing is like some… giant space-Kraken or something!” Lance said as the Red Lion appeared next to him, firing at a tentacle that was only a few meters away from hitting Keith from behind. He mumbled a quick thank you, shocked at his own ineptitude. That was an obvious attack, and if it hadn’t been for Lance he’d…

“Are you ok?” The question came via a private line, Lance’s voice laced with concern for him. Keith cut him off before he could show any more signs of weakness.

“This is not a good time for small-talk. Let’s focus on the mission.” Lance nodded.

“Just get your head back in the game! Don’t wanna lose you.” How could he manage to say something so sincere yet stay this calm? Lance had definitely evolved on the battlefield. Filled with newfound determination, Keith dove in headfirst, slicing a tentacle down the middle with Black’s blade.

“You won’t.”

Keith swore he could feel his skeleton gnaw against his insides as he stood up from the pilot seat, yelping slightly from the striking pain in his forehead. There had been no visions during the battle, but he could have sworn he felt Honerva hovering over him, watching his every move. All of his energy had been spent trying to keep her at bay. There was no telling what she could do if she opened their connection while he was in formation. The thought of possibly leaving Voltron in her control petrified him.

After two hours of intense fighting, Voltron had finally finished off the beast, Keith managing to pull together and lead his team to victory. Lance’s words had carved into his mind, urging him to bring out the strength he knew was hidden inside of him. Without him, Keith wasn’t sure he would have made it out alive.

Exiting his lion, he was met with the exhausted faces of his teammates and the MFE-pilots, all groaning and complaining about miscellaneous injuries and general fatigue. No one seemed to be severely wounded, which made Keith let out a sigh of relief. Once again, he had put his team at risk by being unfocused; it was a miracle that nothing went wrong.

His gaze fell upon Lance, and as soon as their eyes met, the Red Paladin hurried over to his side, placing a hand on his left shoulder, eyes filled with a solemnity Keith rarely saw from him.

“We need to talk.” Keith hid his eyes behind his bangs to avoid facing him, but nodded. It was time for him to come clean about this problem, the weight growing heavier and heavier on his shoulders. He had seen the concern from his teammates increase every day; it was only a matter of time before they would start asking questions.

White noise erupted from the speakers, interrupting their silent conversation. Soon, a screen appeared on the far wall, showing Iverson’s visibly tired silhouette.

“I know this is inconvenient, but we have no time to spare. I need you all to start preparing for another drop immediately; the Robeast must be retrieved before this fog gets even thicker.” James whined in complaint, but obediently started inspecting his aircraft scrupulously; making sure it was ready for another mission. The rest of the MFE-pilots also geared back up, checking their fuel tanks and reloading their firepower.

 Lance sighed next to him before closing his eyes to connect to Red. Keith felt the familiar tickle of restlessness travel up his spine and smiled at his former Lion, welcoming the greeting. Since Lance had taken over his place, Keith couldn’t form proper connections with her anymore, but that didn’t stop Red from prodding at him, making sure he was safe and sound. Sometimes Keith wondered if part of it was Lance’s doing, but he was too embarrassed to ask.

Turning on his heel, Keith walked back to the Black Lion, opening their connection again. She purred at him, filling him up with excess energy from their bond. Thank you, Keith said, moving over to rub her nose the way he knew she loved. They were both tired, but Black would never fail him on a mission. Together, they would carry on through this.

After everyone had made sure their aircrafts were operable, Keith gathered the team to go over the tactical plan. Him, Allura and Lance were in the middle of discussing the likelihood of other lifeforms being present on the planet, when a camera was once again shoved in their faces by an overly excited Rizavi. Being both occupied and extremely exhausted, all three of them threw her rotten glances, but she seemed to either be oblivious of or deliberately ignoring their annoyance with her.

“Lance, how are you feeling about the mission you’re about to go on?” She probed, eyes gleaming like powdered mica. Lance turned to face her, trying his best to smile despite his fatigue.

“Oh hey, I’m feeling good, I guess. Maybe a little tense.” He visibly stiffened, brows furrowing and pupils dilating as he groaned into his hand. “Maybe a lot tense. I don’t know.” He shook his head and eyed Rizavi accusingly, “Why’d you have to ask me that question?”

Lance being flustered at a time like this was not unusual; Keith was good at spotting his subtle signs of anxiety. But he almost never openly exposed it like this, carrying that mask of overconfidence and jolliness like a second skin. His partner was pushed to the brink of his tolerance at this point, having to work twice as hard to cover for Keith’s deficiencies on the battlefield. Keith felt the gentle tug on his mind from Black, nudging him towards Lance. This time, Keith would have to be the one carrying him.

Moving closer, he put a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder, smiling up at him. “Lance will be fine. He doesn’t break that easily. Besides, no Voltron without our Sharpshooter.” Keith reveled in the heat rising to Lance’s cheeks at the compliment. Brushing Rizavi off, he turned to Allura, hand still firmly planted on Lance’s shoulder.

“Let’s head out.” She nodded in affirmation, immediately boarding her lion. Keith took a moment to cup Lance’s chin and lock their eyes, oceans of blue penetrating his very core. “Stay safe out there.” Lance melted into his touch.

“You too, Samurai.”

The retrieval mission went so smoothly it was almost suspicious. Nothing tried to attack them when they approached the Robeast, and it seemed to be completely defective, just as their signals had told them. The Altean piloting the craft was unconscious, and transporting him back to the castle was as easy as pie. Keith’s mind was on high alert, looking for potential threats. Honerva wouldn’t allow them to advance this easily, there had to be a catch, a plan to throw them off her trail or lead them into the darkness. His mind was playing games with him and he couldn’t quite shake the thought that this was a trap. Something utterly terrible was about to unfold right beneath their noses. Soon, hell would break loose.

The soft brush of a hand against his broke his train of thought, and soon his eyes trailed up to meet Lance’s soft, fond smile. “Hey,” he said, tugging at his lower lip. Keith pushed his worries to the back of his mind and locked the door.

“Hey,” he replied, intertwining their fingers tentatively, his pulse now heightening for entirely different reasons.

“We’ve been ordered not to disturb during the interrogations. Allura and Coran hope that talking to their own kind might help the Alteans open up.” Lance squeezed his hand, dragging the other through his hair nervously. “So, you know… I figured we could go back to your room and… talk and stuff.” He blushed profusely, glancing sideways. Keith fought the urge to embrace him immediately, instead pulling him along down the hallway to his room, a light bounce in his step.

“Let’s go then!” Lance laughed, and the silvery sound played on repeat in Keith’s head. His heart was singing.

Closing the door to Keith’s living quarters, Lance immediately chucked off his boots and collapsed on the bed, spreading out like a starfish. Keith moved to sit down in the chair next to it, but an arm yanked at him determinedly, and before he knew it, he was sprawled out on top of Lance on the sheets.

“Hold me,” he mumbled, burying his face in Keith’s neck, and Keith let himself indulge in the moment, arms wrapping around Lance’s slim waist.

They stayed there for a minute. No talking, just basking in the presence of each other, letting the relief of being alive and together flood over them, bringing them closer. Keith could have lost Lance today, could have lost him every single one of those 47 days since they left Earth with the Atlas. No, every single day since they embarked on this journey years ago. He could have lost him before he realized how much he meant to him, before he had this. The revelation made him hug Lance even tighter, listening to their heartbeats thrumming in sync. If only they could stay like this forever.

Afterwards came the talking. Both scolded the other for taking up too much responsibility, carrying the rest of the team on their shoulders. Keith vowed to rest more, to stop rolling out of bed at five am to train when he was already depleted. Lance promised to take care of his own health as well, to not trail outside Allura’s chambers worrying about her every hour of the day. Keith learned that he did the same for him, only at nighttime, listening to make sure he was sound asleep before he went to bed himself. The confession warmed his heart, but at the same time made him feel guilty. How long had Lance been worried about his abnormal sleeping patterns? How did watching over Keith affect his own need for rest?

Despite his inner conflict, he decided to keep the visions to himself, not wanting to worry Lance further. The Red Paladin had more than enough on his plate to begin with. Besides, just being able to talk to him like this, to sort out his mind, it had already helped a lot. He felt lighter, energized, as if there was nothing he couldn’t do with Lance by his side.

Cinnamon hands stroked along his back, relieving the tension in his muscles as they talked about everything and nothing. About Lance’s relatives on Earth and how he was constantly worried about their well-being, about how everyone Keith had ever loved was on this ship, the thought of anything happening to them making him dread starting a new day. Lance told him about the sunsets over his hometown, and Keith described the cacti growing in clusters next to his shack. They both laughed at the story of Shiro stumbling and falling straight into a pile of them, causing Keith to have to pull out the thorns from his back one by one. It was safe, nice even. Keith almost felt like he was back on Earth again, the worries of war far behind him.

A tug on his hair forced him to lift his head, and a familiar ocean of blue met him. Lance fidgeted under his gaze, opening and closing his mouth without forming any words. Then he spilled them all at once. “So, like, are we boyfriends now or..? I mean, this is all kind of new and different, I don’t know how it’s supposed to work. But I really really like you, and you obviously like me too. And I would really like to… Uhm… Well, only if you want to… I mean, there’s no need to rush it, I…”

Keith didn’t even bother fighting the massive smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Lance hadn’t stopped talking, but Keith had stopped listening a while ago, indulged in the feeling of utter bliss and passion. The slightly frantic look on Lance’s face as he babbled on was adorable, his eyes carrying a mixture of hope and nervousness that made his stomach flutter. Fireworks were going off in Keith’s mind and his heart was soaring, pounding so hard it threatened to break out of his ribcage. Covering Lance’s mouth, he leaned in closer, making sure to be right by his ear as he uttered the question.

“Hey Lance, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” Lance smacked his hand away, trying his best to sound annoyed but grinning from ear to ear.

“You didn’t have to leave me hanging, you know,” he mumbled, slowly moving Keith’s bangs away from his face. Keith smiled teasingly.

“I know.”

A pillow hit his face dead on. “Jerk.” Another direct hit. Keith grabbed his own to retaliate, and soon feathers were flying across the room, both boys grappling onto each other, wrestling playfully. Keith felt Lance’s shirt rise and couldn’t resist the urge to drag his fingers across the sensitive skin, causing the other boy to yelp and giggle.

“Tickling is against the rules, you cheater.” He stuttered out breathlessly, squirming beneath Keith’s strong arms. He only chuckled, continuing to rise the shirt up so he could attack Lance’s armpits.

“Ahem.” Both boys jumped at the voice, pulling away from each other and blushing at their suggestive position. Even though nothing remotely sexual had happened, Keith’s cheeks were on fire and his head hung low in embarrassment. He recognized the voice as Shiro’s, and the thoroughly shined state of his shoes confirmed the suspicion. No way was he looking up to see the smug expression on his brother’s face. Nope. Not today.

“Allura wants your assistance on the bridge. The Alteans refuse to talk. Hunk is working on a solution, but we might have to use more violent measures.” Keith’s head snapped up at the clear tension in Shiro’s voice, and found himself looking into grey eyes riddled with anxiety. He immediately rose from bed, wrapping his brother up in a warm embrace.

“I’ll make sure they’ll find another way. We are not like them.” Shiro’s prosthetic hugged him tight, and Keith awkwardly patted his back. He had reacted on pure instinct, before he regained his state of mind and realized how terrible he was at comforting people. Well, at least Shiro seemed less stiff, relaxing slightly in his arms, his breathing evening out.

“Thank you.” The context of his visit had become all too clear when he uttered his first words. Shiro knew, Lance knew, and Keith knew. There was no need to elaborate further. No need to reopen the wounds or revisit the memories.

Seconds later, he was running down the hallway at full speed, Shiro tagging behind him. Lance had hurried off to help Hunk with whatever he was doing, hoping to speed up the process and provide a solution before Allura initiated something she would undoubtedly regret.

“I’m telling you, you can’t do it!” Keith yelled again, growing increasingly furious each passing second. He had seen the effects of torture up close, experienced them through his astral connection with Shiro. No being should ever have to go through something like that, especially not someone who could potentially be innocent.

“We’ve tried everything! The first Altean has been here for almost two months now! They won’t listen to me, they won’t listen to the officer’s, they won’t even listen to Romelle. She grew up with them, Keith! The rest of my people are in danger! Time is of the essence! What more can I do?” Keith bit his lip so hard he could taste the iron in his mouth, but didn’t feel his teeth pierce it. He was numb from the excessive amount of adrenaline fluctuating through his body.

“I… We’ll figure something out. Just… not this. Definitely not this!” Deep down he knew that Allura had a point. She had tried everything she could think of, offered them everything from gold to free rule of the new Altean kingdom. Tried coaxing them into trusting her by speaking of the beauty of the land of their ancestors, about King Alfor and his love for all creatures, Altean or not. But they wouldn’t listen to her, nor anyone else on this ship. Even though she were of their kind. He could not even begin to imagine how painful it had to be for Allura to find out her people were alive after 10 000 years, only to discover they were siding with the enemy. She was desperate. They all were. But still…

“Fine, we’ll wait for another quintent. But if we haven’t gotten information by then, I’m afraid we have no choice…” She looked down with shameful eyes, and Coran stepped forward to put a supportive hand on her shoulder. Allura was shaking, and Keith regretted treating her so harshly. The princess didn’t want to do this any more than the rest of them, but the faith of the universe — the faith of her people — depended on it. He nodded in agreement, begging for Lance and Hunk to find a solution that would solve their problem.

“Keith… I… I know why you’re upset. I’m sorry… I hope you know I really don’t want to do this.” Tears formed in Allura’s eyes as she reached out for his hand.

“I know… I’m sorry I lashed out at you… You’re right, this is a completely different situation. I just wanna make sure we have excluded every other option.”

“Me too.” Then she collapsed in Coran’s arms. Keith couldn’t help but feeling somewhat responsible, even though he knew it was the pent up stress and exhaustion that had caught up to her. He was the one who tipped her over the edge.

Instincts took over, and Keith ran out into the hallway, leaving a confused Coran behind to take care of Allura. All your fault. Dangerous. They fear you. Monster. Keith’s vision faltered and he leaned against the wall, the silhouette of Honerva appearing and reappearing in his mind, flickering uncontrollably. The constant pounding in his head filled him with nausea, and a veil of purple haze seemed to cover his eyes. More flickers, his head filling with images of Honerva hovering over him, reaching out to grab him and pull him into the abyss. Keith desperately tried to move, but there was no strength left in his body, he was spent. Completely paralyzed by the invisible chains holding him down. 

Out of nowhere, the pressure to Keith’s skull disappeared, the image of Honerva dissipating above him, replacing itself with… Lotor? No. He was dead. Keith saw his rotten, melted body with his own two eyes. He had to be mistaken. The figure reached out for him, urging him to grab his hand, growing increasingly panicked as he slowly vanished in a cloud of smoke. No. It had to be a trap.

All traces of Lotor disappeared, and suddenly Honerva was hovering over him again. Why won’t she just kill me? Wouldn’t that be a lot easier?

“Keith! Keith, are you ok?” Long, tan arms wrapped around him, and Keith smelled fresh sea breeze and vanilla-scented shampoo as he gasped for air. Lance. Lance was here. He was safe. The presence of Honerva retracted, and Keith slowly started regaining control of his limbs.

“Dizzy…” he mumbled, collapsing against Lance’s chest. He didn’t trust his voice to carry more words, his tongue feeling swollen and glued to his jaw. Lance helped him stand again, allowing him to allocate some of his weight onto him. Placing Keith’s head on his shoulder, he stroked lazily through his hair, and Keith focused only on that grounding motion. I’m not with Honerva. I’m on the Atlas. With Lance.

He repeated the words in his head, but had a hard time believing them. Honerva’s silhouette bent over his restrained body had felt too real, he was left drugged and senseless at the sensation, barely noticing the fingers carding through his hair.

“Besame, Besame mucho” That voice. So sweet, so familiar. Filling his body with a warm tingling sensation. Lance’s lips were at his ear, and Keith could sense his breath fanning over his neck as he hummed, the soft melody filling the air between them.

“Como si fuera ésta noche La última vez…” The words were completely foreign to him, spoken in Lance’s native tongue, but the sound of his voice, the press of his arms against him, was oh so familiar. “Besame, besame mucho. Que tengo miedo a perderte. Perderte después.” Finally, he dared to flicker his eyes open, facing the gold stripes on Lance’s blue and white uniform. Safe. Home.

A finger tilted his chin up, and piercing blue eyes looked down at him. “You ok?” Keith wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his nose against the base of his neck.

“I am now.” Lance seemed to be temporarily satisfied with the answer, returning to his former ministrations with Keith’s hair. Keith swore he could hear footsteps, but there was no one in sight. Suddenly, a sharp, masculine voice called out, making Keith flinch slightly.

“No, that’s private.” Keith turned his head to see Kinkade frantically wrestling with Rizavi over the camera.

“Kinkade, what are you doing? That was our love angle!” The sharp shift from near-death experience to light-hearted banter gave an unexpected reaction in Keith, and before he knew it, he was laughing breathlessly against Lance’s shoulder, his stomach flooded with butterflies. Initially, Lance seemed worried by his reaction, but it only took a few seconds before he gave in to the sound of Keith’s laughter and joined him in heaving for his breath between giggles. And Keith suddenly felt so alive, his body responding to Lance’s voice in the most beautiful way.

“So…” he said, eyeing Lance curiously, “What was that song about?”

Keith didn’t know what he had expected, but Lance nearly choking on his own spit, cheeks red and flaming, eyes anywhere but on Keith, was certainly not it. He even retracted those strong, comfortable arms from his back, holding them up in front of himself like a shield. Then he started babbling.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just a normal song. Spanish song. About normal, Spanish things. Nothing to fuss about, really. You know what’s cool though? I was just gonna tell you before I found you… You know.” – Lance gestured to the wall – “Hunk has managed to recreate some ancient Altean pastry recipe, and now he’s gonna serve it to the Alteans to get them to talk.”

“Take that! That’s a lot more important than some stupid song.” He added as an afterthought, confusing Keith even more. Even so, he smiled fondly at Lance, intertwining their fingers. As they walked through the corridor towards the kitchen, Keith pondered over Lance’s flustered reaction. Why was it such a big deal that he’d asked that question? It was just a song, wasn’t it?