Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I told you to stay out of this!” Practically snarled Shiro, rounding on the Red Paladin with a fury that made the entire team freeze.

Lance just stared, a heavy stone sinking in his stomach and any words that might have made it past his throat lodging until they burned. Lotor started speaking again, something about a power void, but Lance wasn’t listening. All the words bounced off as he clenched his shoulders and straightened his spine, trying not to let his breathing shake. Pidge glanced back, and Hunk shuffled carefully behind Shiro to move even just a little closer to their friend. Lance felt their warmth pressing at his skin, and raised his chin as if in response. It wasn’t him they needed to be worried about right now.

“Good, then it’s settled,” stated Shiro, striding from the room with Lotor barely a step behind him.

Allura clenched her fists and spun with an angry exhale, returning to her duties with a bit more vigor than was strictly necessary, and the Yellow and Green Paladins turned to their friend.

“Hey buddy, you okay?” Asked Hunk, moving to set a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

Lance was jolted back to reality, glancing over and guessing at his friend’s words based off of the concerned tilt of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Just…gonna go do some skincare stuff. Perfection takes a lot of work you know!”

He grinned, making a finger gun under his chin as sparkles filled the air around him, bouncing off of Pidge’s scowl and making Hunk’s shoulders visibly relax.

“Okay, man. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything!”

“I’m going to go kick Matt’s butt in Mario Kart!” Cheered Pidge, punching Lance’s shoulder lightly. “If you want to lose, come join when you finish your weird mask thing!”

“OOOOOOH, you’re on, gremlin!” Challenged Lance with a laugh, waving as the two ran off down opposite corridors.

As soon as they were both gone, he allowed the softest sigh to brush past his lips. His face finally fell.

Striding towards his room, hands jammed in his jacket pockets and eyes fixed on a random point, Lance tried to keep his mouth from quivering. He wasn’t sure if this was the right call or if he was going overboard or something, but there was no way he was the only one who thought Shiro had been off for a while now. It hadn’t really mattered before, but if it was starting to hurt his team…well, there was a reason leaders had right hand men. This was what he had done for Keith. And even if Shiro didn’t want it, this was what Voltron needed. It was like his mother always said, la familia es primero.

“Ojalá Shiro lo recordará a veces,” he muttered under his breath as the door to his room swished open.

His chest tightened as he flopped onto his bed, waiting until the doors closed automatically before he tapped at the small vaguely circular communication device Pidge had rigged for the team when Keith joined the Blade of Marmora. It wasn’t the first time Lance had called Keith to chat and give updates, and sometimes he was even the one picking up to hear about some especially stupid teammate or a warning that he wouldn’t be able to talk for a while because of a covert mission or something. There shouldn’t be a reason for him to hesitate to call his rival, old team leader, and best friend (longtime crush more like it), but there he was with fingers hovering over the familiar face reluctantly. He didn’t want to sound like he was whining or insulting Shiro, it was just…

With a sigh, Lance let the fuzzy hologram disappear. He tossed the metal oval onto his bedside table, the harsh clang filling his room as it bounced off and settled into place with a rattle. Groaning loudly, the tall Cuban flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to memorize the grainy wood above. Shiro’s words echoed harshly in his ears, and he felt his mouth curve downwards abruptly. It wasn’t that he couldn’t deal with it, he had heard harsher things from Iverson almost daily at the Garrison. Of course, even Lance had the occasional off-day, but fundamentally, he had carved a confidence of steel for himself. He could take this. Keith had said that he was needed here in his own stupid, roundabout, wacko way, but that was Keith for you. So he could do this. He could make it.

Then the image of Pidge’s grin and Hunk’s soft face popped into his mind, and his breath caught sharply in his throat. If Shiro lashed out at one of them like that…

Lance jerked himself off the bed, snatching the communication device from his bedside and mashing buttons frantically until Keith’s face popped up again with the little button labelled call? beside it. This time there was no hesitation, the strange ringing sound Pidge had engineered filling the room barely half a tick later. Pidge had just gotten her brother and father back; there was no way Lance was going to let his pseudo-sister get hurt again. And Hunk? The guy had a heart of gold, and though he wasn’t a pushover by any stretch of the imagination, he valued his friend’s opinions sometimes over his own. The last thing Lance ever wanted to see was any of his family being put down, biological or not. His bonds with these guys went beyond blood; and he would do anything to protect them. Absolutely anything.

The weird ringing was abruptly replaced with a blip bleep bloop, and Lance’s eyes cut back to the hologram just in time to see the static focus into an image of Keith. The boy was wearing his usual post-mission face, grimy and bearing the occasional purple bruise, overall tired and more than a little relieved to be distracted. His thick, black mullet was as silly as ever, and the Blade of Marmora armor brought out his pale skin flecked with scratches and a few drops of dried blood.

“Hey, Lance.”

“Hey, Keith! Did you just finish getting checked over or did you skip again?” Asked Lance with a smirk, and Keith scowled crossly.

“I got looked at, there’s nothing serious. Anyway, why did you call?”

Lance’s smile dropped, and based on Keith’s sudden shift in posture, the older boy noticed. Lance leaned back, rubbing his neck as he took a deep breath and tried to not cringe as he spoke.

“Um, well, things aren’t doing too hot over here.”

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?” Was Keith’s immediate response, his voice sharp and entire body shifting forward as if he intended to leap right through the hologram and fight whatever dared come near his old team.

In spite of it all, that familiar wolfish protectiveness made Lance’s lips quirk upwards towards something like a smile. It was nice to know Keith hadn’t changed too much.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s safe,” assured Lance, still running a hand over the back of his neck and not quite meeting Keith’s eyes. “It’s just that…well, I’m not sure how to say this. I think something’s off with Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

Lance cringed, but forced himself to keep talking. This wasn’t just about him, it was about his whole team.

“Yeah, Shiro. He’s been…well…prickly? I’m not sure how to put it, but he’s become a lot more commanding ever since you left. And I don’t want to criticize him and be that guy, but…I’m worried, Keith. I’m really worried.”

Lance retold the events of a few dobashes prior, trying to strike a balance between his natural tendency to dramatize everything and his inherent desire to downplay it and protect Shiro. Right now, telling the truth was what would really protect his friends more than anything else. At least, he told himself that.

“So, yeah,” concluded Lance awkwardly, still not meeting Keith’s indigo eyes. “I just thought, I don’t know, you might know what’s going on with him. You two always seem to have a handle on each other, and I don’t want to be ignoring him if he’s hurting. So, any ideas?”

He tried for a smile, finally raising his deep blue eyes to Keith’s…wait—

“I’ll be there in two vargas.”

Waitwaitwai— “You go lose to Matt or Pidge or something in Mario Kart.” Waitwerehiseyesactuallyturningyel—

“Hey!” Complained Lance, and Keith gave him that signature smirk that instinctively made the brown-haired boy scowl. “I didn’t say you had to come! You just got back from—”

“Yeah, which means now’s my best chance to get off. And on that note, see you, get creamed by Pidge, save some of Hunk’s treats for me, bye.”

“Keith—!”

And the screen went dark. Lance sat perfectly still, practically gaping at the static that Keith’s face had melted into. Then, “¡¿QUÉ QUIZNAK, COMPLETO IMBÉCIL?!” bounced off the walls of the castle, and Matt got nailed by Pidge’s green shell while Pidge (completely used to Lance’s screaming antics by now) cackled triumphantly.

“¡No puedes colgar así! ¿Qué diablos? ¡¿Qué quiznak?! AAARRRGH!” Lance shouted at his silver communication disk, the tiny part of his brain not overrun with thoughts of Keith left hoping that the walls blocked a majority of his screeching.

And seriously, why did Keith just assume Pidge was going to beat him at Mario Kart?! He had wayyyy too many siblings to ever lose at that again! Ha! He couldn’t wait to shove that in Keith’s smug face when he came back!

Keith smirked as he cut off the beginning of Lance’s indignant squawking, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest as he snatched his blade from the table and flipped his hood up before stepping out of his room. He doubted Kolivan would complain too much if he said Shiro was sick and Voltron needed a Black Paladin because they weren’t sure if or when he would recover. It was only a half-lie too.

He had known Shiro for years; he had watched the man through all his fights with Adam, every bout of concealed sickness, of overwhelming stress because the Garrison refused to let him forget that he had a reputation to uphold, and he knew his honorary brother’s reactions like the back of his hand. Pretending he was fine until he broke down into a bowl of ice cream at 3 in the morning? If it was a fight with Adam, Keith, or someone else he loved, definitely. Pushing through with a fake smile until someone caught him and forced the stubborn pilot to rest? Uh, yep, that was actually how Adam and Keith first met. And overworking himself until he collapsed on the training deck and had to be dragged home? Two words. Stupid. Garrison.

But that just made this all the weirder to Keith. Lashing out at the team, especially at Lance when he was trying to give input? He had never seen Shiro like that. Even though Lance insisted that it was probably just that the Black Paladin was stressed and under a lot of pressure, it had taken all Keith’s self-control not shake his head mournfully; he didn’t want to add to his friend’s fears. Still, he had seen Shiro on the point of a mental breakdown, and the perpetually protective man had still insisted on staying with Keith because the kid had woken up crying that morning and he couldn’t hide a thing from his brother. Heck, if it wasn’t coming from one of the Paladins, Keith wouldn’t have believed what he had just heard. Shiro always put his team, his family, ahead of everything else.

Keith dashed to the hangar the tick Kolivan gave his grumbling permission, launching himself into a pod and slamming the buttons to take off. If he had never seen Shiro react like this, that meant it probably had to do with his latest disappearance. Trauma, maybe? Lance had said he was more worried about Shiro than anything else (well, equaled only by the very real possibility of the older man lashing out at Pidge or Hunk), and Lance generally had an amazingly good grip on what was happening with the crew emotionally. There was a reason everyone had looked at him when it came time to convince Keith to accept becoming the Black Paladin, and there was a reason he had succeeded. Keith knew himself; he wasn’t good with words, that was Lance’s department. So if Lance was saying Shiro seemed like he was hurting, then Keith believed him.

Keith gunned it out of the hangar, throwing his craft headfirst into space at a killer speed and punching the coordinates he always got automatically (thank you, Pidge) from the communication device right into the ship. He fully intended to get there before two vargas had passed, screw the rules of space-time or fuel consumption. Keith took the ship to full throttle, hissing quietly harsh come ons at the system. He really hoped Lance was busy getting his butt kicked right now.

“That’s playing dirty, gremlin!”

“Get him, Pidge!”

“You’re just bitter because you lost already!”

“Heck yeah I am! If you hadn’t startled me on the final lap–!”

“It just proves I have the best focus of any of you.”

“Cram it, gremlin!”

“Make me!”

“Oh, bring it! I have a blue shell and I’m not afraid to use it!”

Chapter Text

Keith was pretty sure that beeping sound was a bad thing. At first, he just assumed it was the ship telling him to cut the crazy speed, this craft isn’t meant for long-distance sprints for quiznak’s sake! but it hadn’t gotten more urgent when he ignored it, so maybe not?

Growling, Keith yanked up the visuals on a nearby screen, flicking his eyes to try and quickly figure out how to make the annoyingly distracting noise stop! That was when he spotted the three Galra scout ships on his tail, a battle cruiser just ambling along behind them casually. Huh. Fun.

Keith slammed his distress signal and spun the craft around, guns blazing and teeth gritted into something resembling a wince. He couldn’t just lead them towards Voltron, that was practically asking for more Galra to show up and put the actual fate of the universe in direct jeopardy. If it were just scouts, he could trounce them no problem and just tell Lance he hit a bit of traffic en route, but that battleship complicated things.

“Right, here goes nothing!” He decided, slamming the craft forwards into an off-kilter loop, lasers bursting through one of his pursuers before he even had time to right himself.

He just had to hold out until help from the Blades came, or until his stupid craft made it to the nearest asteroid field to lose those freaking Galra in. He hoped his friends didn’t keep him waiting too long.

“PALADINS, TO THE BRIDGE IMMEDIATELY!” Allura’s voice roared over the comms, and this time both players jumped so badly that their carts crashed into one another and swerved awkwardly over the finish line together.

Neither really noticed though.

“Must be some sort of distress signal,” sighed Pidge as she tossed her controller on the couch and hurried towards the door.

“I thought we were far away from any planets that might need help! That was a whole thing because of Lotor, right?” Cried Lance, dropping his controller and scurrying after the small girl as Matt scowled after the two retreating backs.

Matt didn’t really like being left alone with Coran; the guy just squawked at him not to touch anything because of some sort of Altean magic thing. That being said, he seriously loved watching his little sister demolish everyone else on the battlefield, so he’d deal.

“Who knows?” Shot back Pidge as she dashed towards the control room. “We just need to make sure they’re okay! Maybe it’s some sort of resistance force again!”

Lance cocked his head, wondering how that could be the case when they had scoped out this area ages ago, but dismissed it with a shake of his head. Pidge was right; it didn’t matter who needed help as long as Voltron could save them. He just had to be certain to call Keith afterwards and make sure the mullet-head knew where to go. Hopefully this rescue would be nice and quick!

Keith’s curses filled his ship as he dove wildly through laser fire, just a few ticks away from the asteroid field and already smoking from the many scrapes his ship had taken. Sure, he had taken out the three scouting ships no problem, but that stupid battle cruiser had decided to unleash a whole storm of the little buggers, and Keith’s engine was starting to fail from his varga of sprinting already.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Cried Keith, swerving like he was possessed and catching a glimpse of the asteroid field with a wave of relief.

Sure, the fighter ships could and definitely would follow him in, but those he could handle! The giant battleship charging up an ion cannon as he spoke? Well, he did like a challenge, but…

Keith jerked the controls so abruptly that one let out an ominous creaking sound that brought back distinctly bad memories of Lance’s damaged armor as the smaller boy carried the injured Cuban to the healing pod after the killer-castle-evil-Sendak-crystal fiasco. Well, that certainly didn’t add to the compact sphere of dread growing in his stomach at all. Keith ignored the swirling ball in favor of sniping down an enemy fighter and flying just above the wreckage, rolling into the asteroid field with a smoking wing and a sigh hovering on his lips. Now he just had to hold out until the others got to him—

A searing blast of purple filled the corner of his eye, and Keith swerved with a shout as the ion cannon’s blast shredded a path through the asteroids and clipped the edge of the Blade of Marmora’s craft.

“Quiznak!” Snarled Keith as the interior of his ship lit up red like the Fourth of July, almost every alarm blaring at top volume to the point that he contemplated impaling the alarm system with his knife

Kolivan wouldn’t have liked that, and the two had enough of a tenuous relationship without Keith stabbing one of the guy’s ships, but man was he tempted.

“All right, time to go a little wild here,” he muttered, a slight smirk tilting across his lips even as the fighters shot straight toward him and the battle cruiser began to leisurely close in on the craft.

How long until the others got here?!

Lance usually thought of himself as someone who obeyed orders, contrary to his reputation at the Garrison. Rules? Yeah, he spent about as much time laughing at those as he did actually following them. Orders? Well, those were a totally different ballgame. Those were given to keep him and his team alive, and breaking them put not only himself, but also those around him in danger. Lance understood that, and that was why he tended to follow Shiro’s battlefield commands without a second thought.

“Lance, you can’t just run ahead like that! We need to stay in formation!” Shouted Shiro, not even noticing Pidge and Hunk’s audible winces as his voice blared through their helmets.

“For all we know, Keith just got shredded in that blast! Red is the only one who can make it through that field, leave this to me!”

“We still don’t know for sure that it’s Keith—!”

“Who else would dive headfirst into an asteroid field in a damaged ship like it was nothing!” Countered Lance, shoving his lion to the max and tearing further away from the other four lions. “You guys handle that cruiser, I’ve got Keith!”

“Lance, this is an order. Come back here right now. We need to all handle that cruiser first so Keith doesn’t have to worry about another ion blast. He can take out the fighters just fine; that cannon has to be our top priority.”

Lance felt something constricting in the back of his throat, and his hands tightened around the controls, a single bead of sweat winding like ice down his cheek. He knew Shiro was theoretically right, that his logic was completely sound. So why did he feel such a deep dread in his gut, like he was sending his best friend to die? Then he saw the cannon begin to charge. Keith’s face filled his mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Lance slammed the communications button, cutting off the others’ shouts as he threw all his body weight forwards with the controls, and Red roared in something that sounded suspiciously like triumph as she tore towards her former paladin. A blade formed in her mouth, and she rippled through the asteroid field like an eagle on a clear day as Lance tried to get in touch with Keith. If even remotely possible, he didn’t want either of them taking that ion blast, and he was smart enough to know that no lion could get to that cruiser in time. He just hoped he could make it to Keith in time.

Keith’s cursing at this point was just to keep his mind distracted from the fact that he was literally one dobash away from death. He veered sloppily out of the direct line of fire, his craft nearly deafening him with alarms and starting to drown out his own swearing, which totally didn’t freak him out at all, nope, not even remotely. His eyes cut sharply over the dashboard, trying not to panic as he noted that the engines were half-dead from his earlier racing, his lasers were down from that hit before, the heating system was about two dobashes from shorting out, his communication system was registering a call, the lights weren’t even a dobash away from dying, and—

Wait. A call?

Keith practically punched the communications button, pulling up a blurry visual just as a warm, familiar, and absolutely murderous roar filled his ears. He almost laughed with relief.

“Keith, can you hear me?”

Lance’s concerned face blurred, his voice almost overcome by static at the end, and Keith barely managed a response.

“Yeah, I can—”

The image crackled, turned black, and then vanished altogether.

OHHHHHHHHHH, one of these days, Keith swore he really would stab this ship! Then a bright flash of blue shot out from behind him, slicing through a fighter as Red barreled towards him, mouth open and laser shooting death at any who came near the black-haired teen. The maw hovered open an extra tick long, and Keith understood immediately.

Switching his mask on, Keith leapt up from his seat and jammed the auto-pilot button down, flipping up his hood and dashing for the emergency escape hatch.

Lance gunned it, shooting at full throttle towards the helpless craft as the battle cruiser’s ion cannon glowed threateningly. His teeth gritted together into something resembling a smile.

“Time to be a good team, Mullet.”

Time slowed done.

Keith leapt out of the escape hatch.

The ion cannon fired, a bright purple bolt shooting straight towards the defenseless teen.

Red hovered tantalizingly close to the Keith, jaw wide open and eyes glowing.

The blast cut through an enemy ship by accident.

Keith’s jet pack sputtered to life.

Red moved just a little closer.

The Blade of Marmora’s ship was blown apart.

Keith reached.

And then everything happened at once. Red slammed her jaws closed, taking the blast straight to the face and jerking backwards as if to shield her paladin. Lance was thrown from his seat, wrenching the controls upwards and sending the lion back into the protection of the asteroid belt, nearly tearing his shoulder as he held on for dear life. And Keith? Keith’s jet pack gave a pathetic excuse for a buzz, totalled from the heat off the ion blast, his breaths reduced to raspy gasps, and his vision no more than a blur of grey and black. It didn’t matter.

Lance winced as he tumbled back into his seat, jerking away from a nearby asteroid just barely in the nick of time and scanning the mess in front of him. Shiro was definitely going to kill him later.

Keith went limp. He didn’t need to see anymore.

Lance twisted around a particularly large rock, refusing to look back. He didn’t want to add to his terror right then. He had had more than enough for one day.

Keith didn’t need sight to recognize the inside of the Red Lion.

Honestly, the next time that stupid mullet-head wanted to nearly get himself killed, couldn’t he do it a little closer to the Castle of Lions so his life wasn’t decided by luck and a handful of ticks?! That boy was going to give Lance a heart attack one day, he swore!

Shaking his head crossly, Lance veered just inches away from another asteroid, barely scraping a shifting rock overhead, and diving at a desperate angle to avoid the craggy stone mass hovering in front of his lion. The ion blast had scrambled his controls, and Red was reacting a lot more slowly than usual. Honestly, Lance was pretty sure she wouldn’t be using that mouth laser for the rest of this fight. He’d have to spend some time tending to her tonight or tomorrow morning, or she wouldn’t be fit for combat. On the upside, he had been thrown pretty far back, and was almost out of the busy asteroid field. He’d be back in the battle in a few dobashes.

Lance winced, glancing at the communications button flashing SILENT, and tightening his grip on the controls before releasing a slow, measured breath. It was okay. He had gotten Keith, he was ticks away from clearing the asteroid field, and any of the lions could take down a battle cruiser with ease, especially one emptied of fighters. It was okay. It was going to be okay. He had made the right call, he hadn’t had a choice, he needed to protect his friend, this was the only option he had. Shiro would understand.

Lance turned his communications back on. Keith stumbled into the room, leaning against the doorway, and his eyes widened as a voice so frosty he didn’t even recognize it echoed in the cockpit.

“Lance. When we get back to the Castle, we will discuss your insubordination. The battle is over. Hunk, Pidge, and Allura, good job. Is the Blade safe?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” croaked Keith, making Lance shriek and flail out of his seat with a loud CLUNK.

Keith didn’t bother trying to contain his chuckles, and a few from the other paladins filtered through the comms. Shiro was noticeably silent.

“That’s good. I’m glad you made it. We will all meet in the commons room to debrief. That is all.”

Shiro’s comm cut out, and Keith blinked slowly at the control panel, turning almost cautiously to look at Lance. The lanky Cuban was sitting with one knee propped up, his arm slung across in what would be a lazy, relaxed gesture if his face weren’t so grim.

“What was that all about?” Asked Keith, moving to sit beside the usually jovial boy.

Lance mustered a smile, but his shoulders remained stiff as if trying not to tremble.

“Eh, Shiro and I had a little disagreement about how to handle the battle. I didn’t listen, so he’s mad. You know, usual team stuff.”

Keith studied the face he had come to know so well from arguments, battles, and the occasional forgotten bonding moment, indigo eyes unreadable.

“You’re lying. Or, at the very least, that’s not everything. Tell me what really happened.”

There was a static crackle from behind them, and both teens spun, Keith raising his knife automatically and Lance lunging for the controls.

Oh. Had anyone remembered to turn off the comms again?

As if in answer, Pidge’s face popped up on the screen, shoulders bunched angrily and eyebrows practically radiating fury. When she was sitting like that, it was really easy to forget that she was a tiny, fourteen-year-old space geek.

“What Lance means is that he wanted to pick you up first, Keith. Shiro wanted to take out the ion cannon instead because he thought it was a more immediate threat to you. Lance shut off the comms and went to grab you, even though he was ordered not to.”

Keith stared at his companion, slumped and trying hard not to let the fear trickle into the already weak smile on his lips. If what Lance had talked about earlier was any indication of how Shiro was acting, then what he had just risked…

“Lance, I—”

“I drew up some calculations I think you should both see,” cut in Pidge, pulling up some graphs and spinning them so the two boys could look, adding offhandedly, “Oh, and Lance? You should probably set your lion to autopilot so we can get back to the Castle.”

“Oh!”

Lance scrambled, head jerking from one side of the main console to the other until he found the bright orange button and pressed it gingerly. Red glowed, and Lance sat back down in his chair with a sigh of relief. Keith didn’t move a muscle though.

“Pidge, are these graphs saying what I think they are?”

“Dude, only you know that, but probably,” replied the small girl, fingers flicking across the screen as she moved charts around. “I’m sending a copy of these to Allura and Hunk, I’ll let them know what it means. I figure we can show them to Shiro once he’s calmed down a little, probably when we debrief.”

Keith just slumped, crowding Lance in the pilot’s seat as his eyes remained fixed on the numbers in front of him almost unseeingly.

“If Lance had gone for the ion cannon instead of me…”

“You’d be dead,” confirmed Pidge. “He never would have reached it in time. Lance’s ‘insubordination’ saved your life.”

And he was going to get in trouble for it. Keith glanced at Lance, expecting his mouth to be set in a bitter line or a stream of harsh mutters to be slipping past his lips. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Lance’s fault that he was right. So why—

“Phew,” breathed Lance, settling back in his seat and staring up at the ceiling. “Well, we’ve got what we need then. Come on, let’s get back to the Castle.”

“‘Kay, see you in a few!”

Pidge’s face vanished from the screen, and Lance stretched, standing from the pilot’s seat to let Keith nearly topple into the suddenly vacant space.

“I’m going to lay down for a while,” he said quietly.

Keith twisted in the seat, at least three things jumbling towards the tip of his tongue, but Lance beat him to it with an abrupt, “Hey man……I’m sorry, okay? I put you in danger because I called you, and I–gods–you know I wasn’t trying to—”

“Lance!” Cut off Keith, yanking himself up from the chair and making the taller boy jump.

His voice softened slightly. “Lance, you broke orders to save me. Not to mention,” he added, smirking as he crossed his arms and met Lance’s almost tired gaze. “I’m way too stubborn to listen to anything you tell me; don’t act like you get the credit for this whole thing.”

Lance snorted. Then, blue eyes shining like the sky after a storm, he gave Keith that soft, almost vulnerable smile that the former paladin had only seen twice before. After a tick, the doors slid shut.

Keith slumped back into his seat, his forehead creasing as he replayed the words Shiro had said to Lance over and over again in his brain. He had never heard Shiro sound like that. Never. Whatever was going on, it was probably bigger than Keith could even imagine. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

Chapter Text

The Red Lion landed with a jarring THUD that nearly shook Keith from his seat, as if angry at the directions her paladin was giving her. Lance strode back into the cabin, helmet tucked under his arm and shoulders braced, chin lifted and eyes fixed forwards.

“Hey, you ready?” Asked Keith, his voice gentler than he had expected, especially with how tough and unshakeable Lance’s expression was right then.

“Huh?” Lance turned, startled, and quickly pulled a smile onto his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m all set. What about you? Pidge and Hunk are going to tackle you; you wouldn’t imagine how grumpy they’ve been about you leaving! Come on, let’s go see them before they decide to storm Red!”

Lance grabbed his discarded bayard, and turned an overwhelmingly strong smile on Keith. “Let’s do this.”

Keith could only smile back, accepting the outstretched hand and striding off the lion barely a few steps behind the brown-haired Cuban. Had Lance’s back always been so powerful?

“Lance, do you understand what you did out there?” Asked Shiro, arms folded and a serious, disappointed anger etched into every line on his face. “You put every single person on the team in danger and risked Keith’s life too. You can’t just decide to go rogue in the middle of battle; that’s not how a team works. I am your commanding officer, and if I say something, you have to listen. Running off carelessly just means no one knows what’s going on, and jeopardizes everyone on the battlefield.”

Lance didn’t meet his eyes, and Keith could see that the lanky boy’s shoulders were dipping even as he tried valiantly to keep them tall and strong. Pidge was standing dumbstruck, eyes fixed on Lance as if trying to build a wall between Shiro and the boy she had long regarded as her brother. Hunk fidgeted like he always did when he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he would just make it worse, and Coran was actually clutching Allura’s arm to keep the livid princess from dragging Shiro away and giving him a very refined earful.

Shiro didn’t seem to notice, his disapproving glare directed with all its angry force at the tired Red Paladin.

“If you do something like this again, don’t expect to fly the Red Lion on my team.”

He closed his eyes, unfolding his arms as the room turned to ice. “That is all. Everyone, you’re dismissed.” He turned to leave the room, a strange force pressing in his head reminiscent of a headache.

“Wait, Shiro!” Keith’s voice filled the frosty room, and Lance just barely kept himself from jumping at the sudden sound. “Lance saved my life! If he hadn’t come when he did, I’d be dead right now!”

Pidge practically leapt in, projecting her graphs into the air and, for once, skipping over the technical jargon and rushing straight to reality.

“I ran the calculations in the Green Lion. If Lance had gone for the ion cannon, he would have been over a tick too late!”

Pidge paused, then raised her eyes to meet Shiro’s unflinchingly. And, in that moment, she seemed seven feet tall. “Keith would definitely be dead right now if it weren’t for Lance’s choice.”

“That doesn’t matter,” replied Shiro sharply. “What matters is that I am the leader, and what I say goes. You can’t just run off and do whatever you want, especially on the battlefield.”

“He made the right call, though!” Exploded Pidge, throwing out her arms furiously and nearly skewering Allura by accident with her tightly clenched bayard.

Shiro just stood a little straighter.

“A stopped clock is right twice a day, that doesn't mean it doesn’t need to be fixed. The problem is that a soldier disobeyed orders in the heat of battle, something like that puts everyone in danger,” he stated coldly.

Hunk raised a hand as if trying to speak, but Keith was stepping forward then to stand beside Pidge, his voice tight.

“I disobeyed orders when we were dealing with Lotor, and you said it was fine because I made the right call.”

“And don’t talk about Lance like he needs to be fixed!” Snarled Pidge, absolutely bristling with rage. “Voltron works because we’re all different, because we all have different strengths! If we can’t use those to the fullest, then there’s no point to any of this!”

Lance stood stock still, staring at the three paladins in the middle of the room with a strange sort of fragile hope in his eyes. Hunk smiled softly and stepped beside his friend, resting a hand on his shoulder and forcing the tall Cuban to meet his gaze.

“We’ve got you buddy. It’s going to be okay, promise.”

“Agreed,” said Allura firmly, moving to Lance’s free side and placing her palm on his back. “You are not the only one who wants to support his friends. We are here for you.”

Lance was acutely aware of the tremor that had just passed through his chest as a breath caught painfully in his ribcage. Allura smiled tenderly at the light reflecting in the Red Paladin’s eyes, and turned back to the stony standoff happening in the middle of the room. “Now and forever, Lance.”

Shiro’s voice was harsh, and Keith tried not to flinch at how the usually warm and soft tone had been carved into a flint arrow and aimed straight at him.

“Keith, I let you do that because I was training you to be the leader. A position you chose to leave, I might add.”

Lance’s head snapped up, his shoulders rising and eyes trembling with fury. Hunk’s fingers tightened on his shoulder, trying to keep the reckless sharpshooter out of the line of fire, but Shiro continued as if he hadn’t noticed them at all. “I understand that this was your team once, but you left. This is my team now, and this is how I lead. You have no say in it. And, Pidge, Voltron works because we can all agree on a plan and stick to it! That's not what Lance did today.”

“No, he saved my life!” Shot back Keith, moving closer and holding out his hands as if to take the Black Paladin’s palm. “Look, Shiro, what's going on? You're acting really weird—”

“I'm fine,” interrupted Shiro shortly, yanking his arm away from Keith.

“No, you're not,” pressed Keith with that clumsy, earnest warmth that Lance swore only he possessed.

The former paladin stepped forwards again, laying his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and meeting his eyes as honestly as he could. He slipped into Japanese, because although he wasn’t fluent, he knew it made Shiro feel a little better to hear his mother’s language. “Hey, you’re the one who told me that bottling things up just hurts more. What's going on? How can I help?”

“Keith, speak English, I’m too tired for this,” growled Shiro, and Keith’s stomach clenched as he repeated the question in English.

“……It's nothing. I just……I’m fine,” decided Shiro, brushing off Keith’s hand and turning to go.

His paladin armor seemed like a castle wall right then, and Keith sucked in a long breath. Shiro had spent years slowly taking apart all the walls surrounding Keith’s heart. The least he could do was return the favor.

“But—”

“I said I was fine!” Snapped Shiro, rounding on him with eyes dancing with flames and clenched fists.

Keith actually jumped, and Pidge’s arm shot out automatically to steady him as Shiro snarled. “Just leave me be already; go and……and make out with some other boy in the closet!”

There was a tick of stunned silence, as if a lightning bolt had just struck the room and everyone was still recovering from the blast of quintessence straight to their faces. Keith was pretty sure he was the one the lightning had struck. Shiro was the only person he had told that to. The pilot had patted his shoulder, laughed, and said that he was gay too so it was no big deal. He was the one who had said Keith should never be ashamed of his sexuality. That he wouldn’t force him to tell anyone, that Keith should take this at his own pace, and that he loved and accepted Keith just as he was. That he was proud of him. He was the one who had never abandoned Keith.

Keith was abruptly yanked back to the present by a sudden flurry of motion, of feet striking the ground, voices he half-recognized filling the commons room with indecipherable shouting, and the world around the black-haired Texan was transformed into a blur. Arms wrapped around him, a nearby THUD registered in his hearing, and he was pressed against something hard and pointed, red and white. He barely even noticed.

“Hey man, come on, breathe,” murmured Lance softly, running a hand through Keith’s hair and taking slow, long breaths to make it easier to copy. “You’ve got this, okay? Just breathe with me, I’ve got you. Hey, just breathe.”

Keith hadn’t even realized he’d forgotten to breathe. His mind was still on overload, his entire body felt like it was burning up with terror, and his hands were spasming limply by his side. Shiro had said he’d never tell another soul. That Keith’s secret was safe with him. That Keith was safe with him. So why couldn’t he breathe?

“Keith, hey buddy, it’s okay,” soothed Lance, running a hand down the stiff back clad in dark, Marmora armor. “It’s okay, we’re all here. We’re not going anywhere.”

How could he believe that? Everyone left. Even Hunk’s unmistakably warm hand on Keith’s still-frozen shoulder and Pidge’s small fingers wrapped around his trembling hand would eventually be gone. Keith knew that better than anyone.

“Keith, it’s okay,” promised Pidge softly. “I’m asexual, you know. It’s not a big deal, not here.”

“Yeah,” agreed Hunk, his hand tightening comfortingly on his friend’s taut shoulder. “This doesn’t change a thing; you’re hardly the first gay person I’ve met.”

“You’re safe here. You’re family, Keith. And family doesn’t run,” comforted Lance.

“Depends,” came the bitter reply.

Lance’s arms tightened around Keith’s back, and his clear voice, like a bell in a misty forest, cut right through the clouds filling the outed boy’s head.

“Then they can meet me in the pit. Hunk will break out his frisbee cookies, Pidge’ll rig up some terrifying feat of technology, and I’ll bring along my bayard, so you’d better have that knife ready too, yeah?”

Keith’s shoulders relaxed minutely.

His first inhale was stuttered, his chest doing a weird sort of hiccup, and his team pressed closer.

“I always have my knife ready.”

Could he keep this team…for just a little longer?

Lance laughed, pulling back just enough that Keith got a full view of the boy’s shining face. There were tears in his eyes, but his smile was like a glowing answer to Keith’s silent wish.

“You’re such a Mullet-head!”

Chapter Text

Matt was never technically invited to the debriefings, just like he was never really supposed to be in the control room during missions (because what if something went wrong and someone had to get around Matt, and the two ended up blocking each other when they tried to navigate, and Matt tripped the person and they fell on an important cord and a bunch of other nonsense Matt had tuned out after less than thirty ticks). But, well, Pidge wasn’t the only Holt with a rebellious refusal to ever be left in the dark. Matt had found the perfect little corner where he could hear everyone but was unlikely to be noticed, and Pidge totally hadn’t run a bunch of calculations so they could turn the five wooden crates they had on hand into a fortress where her brother could spy from. Nope, not at all………Matt just helped her install that program because he was that cool of a brother, yeah, totally, um, right.

So when Matt perched there again for the latest debriefing, he hadn’t expected to hear anything out of the ordinary. Just another space battle, maybe Shiro would apologize to Lance for lashing out, and they would talk about potential changes in training or team bonding exercises or something. He had only been paying half-attention as a result when he heard the door open, instead tossing some code around in his head that Pidge had requested in case some Galra hacked Shiro’s arm. However, his mind snapped sharply from configurations and cancellations to the room below him when he heard a voice so freezing with a mix of rage and contempt that he actually didn’t recognize it for a full dobash. Was that really Shiro?

Matt sat up a bit straighter, straining to make out every word as his mind raced a mile a dobash. Shiro hadn’t just been his commanding officer, he had practically taught Matt everything he knew about space. He was the one who had comforted him when he messed up his calculations for the first time in a simulator, Shiro had been the one who refused to take the credit for Matt’s analysis of rock he had brought back from a distant moon even when Iverson tried to give it to him, and Shiro was the one who had slapped his back and cheered when he was accepted for the mission, saying he was honored to be part of the team with him. Shiro was the one who had thrown himself headfirst into a fighting arena to protect Matt, the one who had sworn to get him back to Pidge no matter what, the one who had made it out and been waiting with a hug for him when he finally came back. Shiro was family, through the worst and best times, the one who respected Matt no matter how many people mocked him for his age, the man who told him that he had to respect himself above all else, and the one who fought to bring a smile from the homesick boy during their mission. He was patient, kind, stern, courageous, and overflowing with charisma. He was always there when his family needed him.

“A stopped clock is right twice a day, that doesn't mean it doesn't need to be fixed. The problem is that a soldier disobeyed orders in the heat of battle, something like that puts everyone in danger,” stated Shiro coldly, and Matt’s head jerked up with a short, sharp inhale as he finally took in the man he had long since regarded as a true hero.

Not one of those guys flying around in a cape, no; Shiro was a hero because he never stopped trying to smile.

Shiro’s hair was oddly neat, light bags under his eyes, and mouth drawn in a thin line. His eyebrows were lowered thunderously, his shoulders raised and chin thrown back as if daring the others to question him (which, if Pidge’s yelling was anything to go by, was an offer they had been glad to take up). But what really drew Matt’s attention were the eyes. Cold. Freezing cold. A barren tundra lined with icebergs and the occasional flash of something dangerous, something wild.

And suddenly, Matt was back with Shiro when they were talking in a Galra prison and waiting to be dragged into whatever hell was planned for them. Matt was, somehow, managing not to cry. Shiro was sitting with his hand curling around his chin, a familiar gesture the man made when he was thinking too much.

“Hey, Shiro, we’re going to be fine!” Tried Matt, forcing a smile to his lips and pushing away the image of his little sister looking through a textbook after a day of fighting through bullies, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “Don’t worry so much, you and I together are more than enough to blow this joint to smithereens!”

Pidge would be fine, she was a tough girl, she would definitely be okay. She had to be. Matt’s job was to make it back to her. “I mean, you’re muscle man personified and I’m the next Einstein! So don’t make that face, everything’s going to be fine!”

Please don’t let Shiro notice he was trying to comfort himself too, please don’t let Shiro notice he was comforting himself too, please don’t let Shiro notice he was failing at comforting himself too—

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were talking to yourself!” Said Shiro with that familiar, teasing tone that seemed so out of place in the cold cell overflowing with twisted excuses for shadows.

Then the older man turned a warm, gentle smile on the brown-haired engineer and dropped a hand to rest softly on his head.

“Don’t worry.”

Shiro’s eyes were deadly serious, the way they only were about his family’s safety. “I’ll get you out of here, even if it kills me.”

Matt had taken a sharp breath in, eyes swimming and hands going oddly limp around his knees. Even if it kills me.

“Geez, are you trying to sic Adam and Keith on me?” Groaned Matt, leaning against the wall. “I know those two seem like sweet little angels to you, but they can be downright murderous, you know that? I’ve annoyed Adam more times than I can count, and the one time I met Keith before takeoff, he threatened to skewer me if I let anything happen to you. Adam gave me one heck of a meaningful look right after that too! You dying would just get me killed, you inconsiderate muscle-brain!”

A sweat drop slid down Shiro’s head at those words and his eyebrow twitched grumpily, but Matt just smiled. “So don’t you dare think about leaving me to the mercy of Adam and Keith, you hear? Because I can tell you now, they’ve got none when it comes to you!”

Shiro sat perfectly still for a moment, and Matt didn’t say anything. He knew that posture well enough without asking that Shiro understood. That he was trying to hold back tears, trying to be strong. Matt had seen that same look on his own face more times than he could count. And he had seen it on Pidge’s when she came home from school.

That thought hurt more than a knife twisting in his abdomen, and Matt curled in on himself to hide his face between his knees. Shiro’s hands were on his shoulders immediately, the familiar, careworn voice whispering soothing words Matt could barely make out, and all he could mutter, the last thing he said to Shiro before the man threw himself into the arena to save his life, was a quiet,

“Don’t you dare leave me alone like I left Pidge…”

Matt was dragged harshly back to reality by shouting, furious shouting, and he cursed, nearly toppling over the crates as he dragged a hand down his now-scarred face. Stupid flashbacks, he really needed to work on keeping those under control. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in one right in the middle of a battle! Now what was happening? It sounded like Keith was worried about Shi—

“I said I was fine!” It was practically a feral snarl, and Matt craned his head to peek through the wooden slates.

Allura and Hunk were holding back Lance, his eyes swimming with angry tears, and Coran was standing awkwardly between the two groups as if trying to figure out how to defuse a bomb (a.k.a this situation). Keith looked like he had just jumped backwards, a startled fear slipping into his pursed lips, and Pidge’s hand was on his arm, her eyes glinting hot as a volcano. And Shiro…Shiro had his back to Matt, but the young man would have recognized that stance anywhere. One foot slightly forward, hands clenched into fists, and entire body leaning towards Keith as if he was about to tackle the boy. A battle stance. But why would Shiro—

“Just leave me be already; go and……and make out with some other boy in the closet!”

Matt’s world froze. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. All he could hear were his thoughts, somehow slow even as they screamed. Because he knew Shiro. He knew that man like he knew his own mind; being alone with just him and Sam for several months would do that. And he knew there was nothing on any planet, except maybe Adam, that Shiro cared about more than Keith.

Matt was moving before he knew what he was doing. There was nothing Shiro wouldn’t sacrifice, nothing he wouldn’t walk through, and nothing he wouldn’t fight for Keith. That boy was practically his brother. Keith being gay, well as a bisexual, Matt had noticed from day one, but he knew just enough about Keith to doubt that the boy was out of the closet.

Matt’s hands seized Shiro’s arm, one winding around his wrist, feet pivoting, and eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it hurt. The Galaxy Garrison was a conservative, cold-hearted place, and both Shiro and Adam had fought through a horror show of homophobia because of their relationship. Shiro was the last person who would ever mock someone out of the closet. Not Shiro.

Matt spun, jerking Shiro over his shoulder and flinging him to the ground with a resounding THUD that seemed to shake the Castle of Lions itself. Allura was gaping, Coran looked like he had just been electrocuted, and Pidge was giving him a satisfied nod. Keith just stared straight ahead as if he didn’t even see anything, eyes glazed and empty, knees shaking and hands limp by his side. Lance was dashing across the room, Hunk barely a tick behind him, and Matt didn’t think he’d ever been as afraid of the Red Paladin as when that teen’s gaze flickered over Shiro.

The Black Paladin moved to stand, and suddenly a sharp metal tip was under his chin. Allura gave a strangled cry, Pidge’s eyes widened, and Coran’s protest was cut off by Matt’s furious shout.

“Who are you?! Where’s the real Shiro?! What have you done with him?!”

Matt’s hand was shaking, teeth gritted against each other and eyes wide with a mix of grief and terror. “Where’s our Shiro?! Answer me! Now!”

Shiro’s shocked stare was fixed unswervingly on the torn young man before him, giving Matt a front row seat as a strange purple shine took over his old teammate’s eyes. Then the man was clutching his head, a half-strangled shout of pain dying in his throat as he tried to force cognizant words out.

“Haggar…she–she’s—!” His next breath was a gasp of pain, fingers digging into his scalp as his hand started to glow threateningly. “You’ve got to get me out of here! Hurry! Now!”

Matt felt like someone had just grabbed his heart and locked it inside a vice grip, twisting until blood spurted and he couldn’t breathe. His eyes could tear up later though. They would have to wait.

“Pidge, take care of Keith; I got Shiro!” Shouted Matt, eyes darting to the still frozen black-haired boy now cradled in Lance’s arms.

He hadn’t moved an inch, eyes staring like hollow shells straight ahead, and Matt could barely manage to tear his eyes away. “Allura, give me a hand over here! Coran, get one of those cryofreeze things ready!”

Pidge had told him about how the two Alteans had survived for so long, and Matt knew himself well enough to be absolutely positive that he could never really hurt Shiro. He was just a good liar.

“On it!”

Coran raced from the room, and Allura was at Matt’s side a tick later, her whip already locking Shiro’s arms behind his back. The Black Paladin’s breaths were labored, filled with pain as his eyes were squeezed so tightly shut that Matt was almost waiting for blood to leak down his cheeks. How was he supposed to breathe again?

“Right, let’s go then!” Declared Allura, snatching Shiro up and throwing him over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry as if he weighed nothing.

Matt sat, silently gawking at her with wet eyes, and Allura turned a powerful smile on him even though he was pretty sure she wanted to cry too. So he raised a hand and crushed the tears under the heel of his palm, twisting his lips into a smile and rising to his feet.

“Right!”

The two dashed from the room, Matt throwing a single backwards glance over his shoulder. Pidge was clinging to Keith’s hand, concern bright in her brown eyes, and Matt felt a rush of relief to see that Keith’s fingers were wrapped around Pidge’s too. That he was slowly responding again. Then Lance met Matt’s eyes, and a silent promise seemed to pass between the two men. They would handle their half of the aftermath, and each would be fully aware that the other would be waiting for a status report afterwards. And neither would hesitate to sock the other a good one if they screwed this up. All they had to do was nod.

“So where’s the cryofreeze room?” Shouted Matt, diving out the door as Lance ran a hand through Keith’s hair and urged him once more to breathe.

Everything would be fine. They would make it fine.

Chapter Text

When Keith finally dropped onto his bed, he glanced up to survey the oddly crowded room with tired eyes and still-ragged breathing. Hunk was tripping around with a carefully balanced plate of space cookies, Pidge had somehow installed a strange television thing in his room since he left (who exactly did that help?) and Lance was flopped next to Keith with a fond smile meant to disguise the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Come on, Lance, I picked last time, now it’s your turn!” Grumbled Pidge crossly, flipping through movie options while the Cuban returned from whatever other dimension he’d been in.

“Wha? But I picke—OW!”

Pidge’s heel collided with Lance’s shin as she somehow spun around on the floor without once dropping the remote, scowling at the taller boy.

“Shut. Up! And. Choose!”

Keith smirked and leaned forwards.

“How about Music and Lyrics?”

Lance really loved the songs in that one, though he grumbled about the main couple sometimes.

“Ooooh, I like that one!” Contributed Hunk, and Pidge eyed Lance for approval.

The still wincing boy gave her a short smile, so she shrugged and clicked on the movie. Then she flopped backward against Lance’s legs, her voice just quiet enough that Keith couldn’t hear over Hunk’s offer of cookies.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Allura outpaced Matt in a matter of ticks, shapeshifting into her Galran form to lengthen her legs and make her shoulders just broad enough to accommodate Shiro. Her teeth were gritted, and her arms ached, eyes fixed unswervingly forwards. She wouldn’t look back at the struggling man over her shoulders, the one they had all thought would never return. The one they had nearly lost. The one they had gotten back. But now, as Allura body-slammed the doors to the cryofreeze room open, she took in the sharp pain of reality.

They had never really gotten Shiro back.

Then Matt stumbled in after her, gasping for breath, and Allura’s voice cut through the air.

“Matt, open one of the cryofreeze pods immediately!”

And Shiro’s glowing eyes cracked open.

“Pidge, he’s had enough for one day,” sighed Lance as he leaned forward.

Hunk had slung an arm over Keith’s shoulders and was chattering animatedly, allowing a smirk to cross Pidge’s lips. The bulky teen always seemed to know what was happening with Lance even if he didn’t say it. The two had practically been joined at the hip for the last eleven years after all.

“Yeah, which is exactly why he needs to hear it,” she replied quietly. “Why do you think I told him I was ace? He needs support, Lance.”

The brown-haired teen just glanced away, and Pidge sighed. It had been a long day for Lance too. A really, really long day. Maybe almost as long as Keith’s.

“Actually, nevermind; I’m pretty sure Hunk’s going to come out to him before the movie’s over!” She chuckled, nudging him with her elbow and leaning forwards again now that the wacky first song was over.

Lance didn’t reply. He knew Pidge was right. Heck, he hadn’t had any hesitation bringing it up to both his Garrison teammates when he realized they were part of the LGBT+ community. But Keith was different. Keith he could lose.

Matt darted to the nearest cryopod, eyes scanning the squiggly Altean writing, back and forth, over and over again.

“Quiznak, Coran!” He snarled, fists coming down on either side of the panel as Allura struggled to keep Shiro from breaking free.

Why hadn’t the Altean let him mess with the controls before?! He had no clue what to do now and it was a freaking emergenc—

“Matt, take him!” The shout barely registered in time for Matt to turn around.

And get nailed by a squirming lump of Shiro while Allura raced to the controls.

An elbow slammed into Matt’s stomach, jerking his head upwards as he retched air from his lungs, eyes dilating until the world turned into a fuzzy mass around him.

“MATT!” Allura’s cry was a warning, and its tone drew the freedom fighter into motion before his brain could register what was happening.

His foot hooked around Shiro’s escaping ankle, leg jerking back and throwing Shiro face-first into the icy Altean tiles. Matt hurled his forearm into Shiro’s throat, pinning the taller man to the ground once more. Pain twisted across Shiro’s face, and Matt’s vision went fuzzy for a different reason this time.

“Matt, hurry!” Cried Allura, the cryopod swishing open, and everything caught in Matt’s throat.

He was really going to throw his old teammate into that pod. In pain. Abandoned. Alone.

Hunk maneuvered himself around Keith until he was sitting between the drooping Texan and Lance. He let an arm fall over Lance’s shoulders, noting with a smile that Pidge had fallen asleep leaning against Lance’s leg, and that Keith was maybe two ticks away from drifting off beside him.

“Bud, don’t let it get to you,” he murmured.

Lance stiffened, and Hunk pulled him a little closer. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. It’s your choice.”

Lance’s mouth twisted, and Hunk noted that Keith maybe wasn’t as tired as he had let on. “Now come on, your favorite part is starting! You’re all for big, romantic gestures, right?”

His laughter pulled a smile onto Lance’s face, and the Cuban snickered and nudged his best friend before turning back to the screen. But Keith didn’t see a smile in his eyes.

Matt swung his head to the side, narrowly avoiding Shiro’s kick, and got blasted in the face by the older man’s free foot. Shiro rolled over backwards the tick Matt’s arm lessened its grip on his throat, rising to a crouch with glowing indigo eyes flitting to the door. That was his one mistake.

Matt tackled the older man, rolling over the floor and coming up with just enough force to hurl Shiro into the cryopod.

Allura slammed the button.

The door slid shut just as Shiro’s fists collided with it, eyes glowing a fiery golden.

He vanished into the ground.

Leaving Matt and Allura alone in the suddenly quiet room.

“Hey,” murmured Keith as the movie wound to close, Hunk having passed out between him and Lance with a few hefty snores, “you okay, Lance?”

“Huh?”

Lance jolted back from the reality of the screen, turning a bright smile on his raven-haired companion. “Yeah, I’m doing pretty good. How about you though?”

Keith shrugged, clutching a pillow between his arms and eyeing the credits rising across the fluorescent screen.

“Better than expected. I think…well, tomorrow will probably be pretty rough.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Lance, remembering Matt throwing Shiro to the ground. “It’ll be one heck of a day.”

Keith hummed his agreement, eyes darting back to the Cuban’s face and shoulders relaxing. It had taken one varga and forty-six dobashes, four of Hunk’s cookies, and a lot of snarky banter with Pidge, but Lance’s smile was finally back in his eyes. With a bit of added fire too.

“And we’ll be here,” promised Lance, turning those shining blue eyes on him as if their otherworldly glow were the most natural thing in the world. “I mean, this is probably the most rainbow-colored Castle of Lions in the galaxy! We don’t have a single straight here!”

Keith chuckled, ticking off the people in his head. Yeah, Allura and Coran had seemed baffled by the idea that love was determined by gender, Shiro was gay, Pidge was ace, Hunk was pansexual, Matt was bi, he was gay, and Lance—

Keith nearly toppled off the bed as he spun towards Lance, who only now seemed to realize exactly what had just come out of his mouth.

“Y-you, wait, are you—”

“Bisexual,” stated Lance matter-of-factly, though his hand tightened ever so slightly on the bed at the word. “Yeah, I’m bi.”

Keith felt his entire face coloring to match Lance’s Lion. Wait wait wait, why was he blushing? Lance was super cheerful and his laugh was stupidly beautiful sometimes, sure, and maybe his eyes were the color of the ocean, but Keith only liked that because he’d always wanted to see the ocean, not because he lik—

“Same as Matt, you know,” added Lance defensively, curling in on himself as if to ward off a blow.

His fingers were stiff, his shoulders taut, and eyes fixed on the ground. His teeth caught at his lip. Hiding.

Keith wanted to smack himself. He had been too afraid to tell anyone, and when he was outed, Lance had pulled him into a hug like it was nothing. Had told him not to be afraid. That they had his back. Lance had walked him back to his room, arm slung across his shoulders and chatter filling the hallways in a constant battle against the oppressive silence. He had pulled everyone into an early movie night, only letting Hunk disappear long enough to snag the treats he’d made earlier. Lance had made Keith know that he wasn’t losing any of them. That he was loved. And Keith was nearly sliding off the bed with a flabbergasted expression and cold silence filling the room.

“In that case,” he replied as Lance glanced over with a guarded expression, “you’re dead to me if you thought Alex looked better than that singer’s manager.”

Lance blinked. Then he grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at Keith with an offended sound.

“Do you really think I have bad enough taste not to see that?” He complained, and Keith batted aside the pillow to see a wide smile filling Lance’s eyes with shining light.

The look they should always wear.

Matt sat down hard on the floor. Allura sank to her knees. Neither said a word for a long, long moment. Tears stained the ground. They couldn’t speak. Shiro was gone. He was gone again. Leaving a trail of fiery, burning destruction in his wake, and deserting them far from any ocean to quell the flames.

In pain. Abandoned. Alone.

“I should check on Pidge,” finally murmured Matt.

Allura rose, wiping at her cheeks with the heel of her palm, and nodded slowly.

“I’ll go see how Lance and Keith are,” she decided, trying for a smile. “They’ve had quite the rough day.”

Matt mustered an upward tilt of his lips in return.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he sighed, “and it’ll be even worse tomorrow.”

Allura looked down, eyes hard and so very, very tired.

“Yes,” she agreed. “It will.”

The two exited the cryofreeze room side-by-side. Coran was waiting for them, concern on his face, and Allura explained that she had set the pod to run scans of Shiro that would hopefully explain what had happened to give Haggar control over him. Coran put an arm around the Princess, and told Matt that he had last seen Pidge headed to Keith’s room. Matt wasn’t surprised; Pidge had nearly gotten into a fistfight with his teacher at the Garrison when the man made the mistake of calling her older brother the f word when she was in the room. Her parents had been decidedly more focused on restraining the teacher than their daughter, and Matt had reluctantly pulled his sister away from the seething homophobe. She had never gotten in trouble for it.

Matt smiled at the memory of his spitfire little sister with bruised knuckles and raging shouts as he poked his head into Keith’s room. Allura and Coran peered in the doorway, and three sets of shoulders softened.

The credits were still rolling across a TV screen, the only source of light in the room.

Pidge was wrapped in a blanket, cheek against Lance’s knee as drool hung at the corner of her mouth. A plate full of oddly blue crumbs rested next to her hand.

Hunk was passed out, lying flat on his back on the bed with arms spread out and loud snores filling the room. A large blanket covered him.

Lance and Keith were sprawled across the large teen, Keith on his side and pressed against Hunk with an arm flung over him. Lance was flat on his stomach against Hunk, one arm tossed idly over the teen’s stomach and the other hanging off the bed to rest on Pidge’s shoulder. Keith and Lance’s fingers were laced.

Matt, Allura, and Coran shared a broad grin, and Coran immediately sprinted to the side of the bed and claimed one of Hunk’s legs for a pillow. Allura folded herself regally around Lance, and Matt curled up beside Pidge.

Their family was still here. And no one was going anywhere; never again.

Not alone.

Chapter Text

“What did you just say?” Asked Keith numbly, stance shifting forwards just a little and chin rising a bit as if to provide some sort of shield between himself and reality.

Allura’s eyes never left the floor as she repeated her answer, Matt’s hand steady on her shoulder. It was warm, gentle, comforting. It reminded her of Shiro.

“The Shiro we picked up after the battle against Zarkon is a clone. I used the cryofreeze pod to run scans of his body, and all of his tissue is artificial. He is not the Shiro we know.”

Her hand tightened around her arm, and Matt’s concerned hazel-gold gaze remained fixed on the side of her head. “I just wish we realized it sooner.”

“Well,” commented Pidge, folding her arms and letting her eyes flit downwards, her tone dropping, “at least this explains why he’s been acting so…weird.”

“So, what do we do now? Will Keith be the Black Paladin again? Can he even do that? Is that a thing?” Asked Hunk, head turning back and forth between Keith and Allura as if trying to link the two devastated paladins through his eyes alone.

No one was surprised when a new voice filled the silence.

“Heh, as if Mullet over here would pass up the opportunity to one-up me again!” Snorted Lance, jostling Keith back to reality and winking at Allura. “We’ve already done this once before, we can do it again. It’s us after all! Allura will fly circles around us all in Blue, Keith’ll throw his weight around in the Black Lion, and I’ll stick with Red because my flames are just too—”

“Lance!” Interrupted several members of the crew at once, and Lance made an overly grumpy face at all of them.

Matt just stared at him though, eyes searching, full of pain, and Lance felt his breath catch in his throat. He looked away, quickly pulling a smile onto his face and shaking his head in an exaggerated gesture of pity.

“I get it, you all just can’t handle the Lance hotness. Not everyone can, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Lance,” growled Keith, and the brunette waggled his eyebrows in response.

Keith groaned, and Lance just laughed, his expression brightening and smile becoming genuine again.

“Seriously though, we can do this! I know it’s not going to be easy, but we’re still Voltron!”

He surveyed the group of people before him, from Pidge with her round glasses and fiery short stature to Allura with her tall elegance and tired eyes, all with overflowing pride. The kind of pride that made people believe in themselves too. “We’re still a team. We can win.”

Keith looked down at the blade he had subconsciously drawn; the knife he had been raised with. His dark-purple gaze stared back at him in the polished metal, measured and guarded. Shiro was gone. Again. Quiznak, this was the third time in the past two years that he had vanished without a trace, but Keith still felt like cutting open the galaxy to find his older brother. And now he was surrounded by others who felt the same.

He couldn’t let them down.

“Lance is right,” stated Keith, sheathing his knife and raising his chin at the challenge before them. “We’re still the Paladins of Voltron, and we have work to do.”

All eyes were on him, and Keith nearly gulped, but the soft blue glow of Lance’s orbs settled the lump in his throat. He could do this. No. He couldn’t not do this.

“First off, I need to go see if the Black Lion is still good with having me as her paladin. Then we need to contact the Blade of Marmora if that goes well, I’ll let them know I’m on leave until further notice. I’ll have Lance fill me in while we check out the lions, but is there any pressing business I need to know about right now?”

Keith only then realized that, somewhere along in his comments, everyone had begun smiling. “What?”

“It’s so good to have you back!” Almost wailed Hunk, throwing his arms around Keith and lifting the confused and squirming paladin off the ground in a bear-hug.

“You’re already talking like a leader again,” teased Pidge, punching Keith in the arm and grinning wildly. “Glad it didn’t take a botched diplomatic dinner and one of Lance’s pep talks this time!”

“Pidge, I swear—!”

“It is good to have you back, Keith,” added Allura softly. “I know you’ll do a fine job as our Black Paladin.”

“We still don’t even know if the Black Lion will let me—” Started Keith, still being squeezed to death by Hunk, but Lance cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Yeah yeah yeah, we all know Black’ll be fine with your mullet-head piloting them this time if they were fine when you were still a disaster captain!”

He grinned at Keith then, and the shorter boy felt his chest constrict around his retort in a way that he doubted had anything to do with Hunk. Lance held up his fist. “Let’s do this, Team Leader!”

Keith felt a smile curl at his lips, and he finally relaxed into Hunk’s hug, his arm squirming away just enough to bump knuckles with the Red Paladin.

“You’d better not shove all the hard work onto me, Right Hand.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Snorted Lance, but he couldn’t hide the huge smile spreading up into his sparkling, bright blue eyes.

They could do this. They were a good team, after all.

“So, Hunk, um, I do have to check in with Black now so uhhhhhhh…”

“Right! Right, got it!”

Hunk practically dropped Keith, who stumbled slightly at the abrupt landing, and Lance guffawed. Allura’s shoulders relaxed, the creases in her brow lightening, and she felt the corners of her mouth automatically twitch up. The sight of the paladins, united as ever, made her heart feel as if it might burst. And she had a place with all of them. That hadn’t changed. Not one bit.

“Lance, can you fill me in as we walk?”

“Sure!”

“I’m going to get started on making breakfast! Any requests?”

“I’m going to keep installing cloaking abilities on Yellow. And I want creme goo le, Hunk!”

“Don’t install weird music in my lion this time, and I’ll consider it!”

So maybe they all still needed time. Maybe the smiles they wore right now weren’t entirely true. Maybe their jokes and laughter had a forced undercurrent like a hot spring below rock. Maybe they would all cry themselves to sleep that night. And maybe that was okay. Because they were trying. They were all trying to be happy again. And that was all Allura could ask of them. And of herself.

“I hope Lance fills Keith in on the situation with Lotor,” she muttered as she guided the ship away from a planet’s nearby gravitational field. “That information is quite time-sensitive after all.”

“Huh?” Queried Matt, cocking his head and glancing sidelong at his new friend.

Really, he hadn’t expected to get to know the Princess well, and it wasn’t like he could list off more than three of her likes even now. But he knew one dislike very closely. Losing Shiro again. The only person who understood that better than him was Keith.

“Oh, about the Kral Zera. A new leader of the Galran Empire needs to be selected, and if we can get someone friendly to the Voltron Alliance in power, it would be hugely beneficial. However, the risks are unquestionably too high.”

Allura looked up now, locking eyes with Matt. “I’m hoping that a bit of sideways thinking might help reduce those risks.”

A grin quirked up the sides of Matt’s mouth, and Allura smiled as if daring him.

“Fill me in on the details, Princess,” said Matt with a blooming smirk. “Let’s see what this brain can accomplish.”

“Well, that’s a lot,” was Keith’s only comment when Lance finally finished rattling off every ongoing problem they hadn’t told the Blade of Marmora about, whether it be a personal one (Pidge still getting nightmares about what could be happening to her father on his trip back to Earth, and if they get bad enough, pinging at least one teammate to come and watch movies or talk or listen to music with her, so Keith shouldn’t freak out; it wasn’t the alarm for an attack) or a universal one (Lotor managing to drive Zarkon away enough to push for their support in getting him to the Kral Zera, cheerfully waltzing the universe’s last hope right into the hands of the Galra Empire).

Lance scowled at his teammate’s bland response, but Keith barely noticed as he slid back into the seat of the Black Lion. It felt so familiar. Black apparently agreed, as they roared to life under Keith’s touch without so much as a tick of hesitation.

“Well yeah, a lot happened!”

Lance was about to say you’ve been gone for a long time, after all! but he caught himself at the last tick and instead looked around the cockpit of the Black Lion. “At least some stuff is still the same though.”

Keith glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening a bit.

“It is?” He blurted without meaning to.

Lance’s eyebrows shot up at the sudden urgency in Keith’s voice, and the older paladin jerked his head back to the screen in front of him. The only thing that had always been the same to him was that Shiro was there. That Shiro had his back with a protective hand and a warm smile, even if he screwed up. And now Shiro was gone. Again. How could anything else stay the same?

“Uh, yeah man,” replied Lance, jolting Keith back to reality. “I mean, Pidge still nerds out over anything and everything technological she can get her hands on, and Hunk is still a gem among humans who can cook feasts out of literal goo. Allura’s still crazy hardworking and smart, and Coran is as goofy yet brilliant as ever. And I, of course, am still flawless!” He added, striking a pose for effect and making Keith roll his eyes affectionately.

But Lance had a point. His friends…they were still there. Not unchanged, but not different either. Still themselves, through it all. And they had been there with open arms. No harsh words, no anger that he had left, no rage that he had pretended they weren’t more important than the Blade, none of that. Just simple joy that he was back.

“Thanks, Lance.”

“Heh, always happy to give others a taste of the wonder that is Lance McCl—”

“No, really.”

Keith raised his indigo eyes with as much honesty as he knew how to, locking them with Lance’s wide blue orbs, and the brunette’s breath stuttered in his chest. “Thank you. For…for a lot, I guess.”

For filling the defeated, bitter silence with jokes and laughter that gave everyone the strength to try again. For confiding in him. For comforting him. For risking his own life for Keith’s time and time again. For being willing to throw away his place on the team not once, but twice for his friends’ sakes. For believing in Keith and supporting him above all else. For accepting Keith unconditionally. For not letting everything that had happened take away his shining smile.

“Yeah. Thanks. For a lot.”

Lance just stared. That shouldn’t make his heart twist. A single word shouldn’t make him feel like he couldn’t breathe. Like his entire soul had been ignited by a small, flickering candle. His hands went limp, and throat closed around any clever words ready to jump up. His irises trembled, blue eyes wide and shimmering as he finally realized why his heart was struck so forcefully by that simple word.

When was the last time someone had thanked him?

A hand seized Keith’s wrist. He was yanked from the seat, thin arms winding around him too tightly to be entirely joyful as Lance buried his face into the Black Paladin’s shoulder.

“Thanks for coming back, Keith,” he breathed softly, voice quivering on the last word. “I’m…I’m glad you’re here.”

Keith stood ramrod stiff, not entirely sure how to handle such a blatant show of affection, and awkwardly brought his arms up around Lance’s back too. He wasn’t sure what to make of the myriad of emotions he had seen flickering across Lance’s brimming blue eyes, but he recognized the final one that had shone through clearly.

Gratitude. Same as him. Keith tightened his hold on Lance, and rested his forehead on Lance’s soft, jacket-clad shoulder.

“I’m glad too.”

Not everything was the same. Shiro was missing, they had acquired a new teammate, and the despair hanging in the atmosphere was very much present. But that didn’t mean everything was bad either.

“Why are all of your bonding moments centered around cradling?” Teased Lance, pulling back a bit and locking sea-blue eyes with Keith’s wide, deep night-indigo ones.

Keith snorted.

“Oh, now you remember that?”

“Who knows? You can’t prove it!”

“Lance!”

The boy threw back his head and laughed, and somehow Keith couldn’t resist the smile on his lips. No, not everything was bad. His friends had made sure of that.

“PALADINS, TO THE BRIDGE IMMEDIATELY! I REPEAT, TO THE BRIDGE IMMEDIATELY, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” Allura’s voice shattered the careful gentleness of the moment, and two heads jerked up in unison.

Then their eyes met again. And even if their irises didn’t match, the smiles tugging at their mouths did.

“Let’s do this, Mullet!”

“Obviously, Kelphead!”

“Wha—?! You did not!”

Keith ran speeding past Lance, laughing the entire time at the flabbergasted expression on the other boy’s face, and indignant squawks that followed him as the two sped towards the bridge. They had no clue what difficulties they were going to face through the rest of the war. But as the two stumbled onto the bridge, out of breath and flush-faced from a mix of running and laughing, alongside an apron-clad Hunk and laptop-clutching Pidge, in front of a frowning Lotor, smiling Allura, and smirking Matt, they both had the same thought at the exact same time.

Maybe we can make this work.

Chapter Text

“Matt and I have been doing some thinking,” began Allura, Matt standing behind her with the same serious expression they had seen on Pidge many times before she proposed something dangerous in the heat of battle.

Never once had it let them down.

“Getting Lotor on the throne to the Galra Empire is still an option, as apparently the Kral Zera yesterday was destroyed by a litany of bombs, killing many prominent competitors and rendering the coronation incomplete.”

Keith smirked, and Lance got the distinct feeling that the Blade had something to do with those bombs. He certainly wasn’t complaining.

“It does not appear that Zarkon was among those present. This means that security today will be even tighter, but also that less people will show up. Lotor has indicated that he has spies working within the Galra Empire, people who have served as his personal guards and pretended to double-cross him in order to send him coordinates and allow him to avoid capture.”

Allura glanced at the white-haired Galra standing just a few feet away, the glint of distrust shining clearly in her eyes. “If we got him in, we would have backup, and he has good standing within the Empire. It is very possible to not bring Voltron, but rather just a few Lions, namely those most likely to rush to their paladins if there is danger, regardless of the distance.”

“So…wait, the Red and Black Lions?” Asked Pidge, eyes bugging out.

“But they’re the most powerful of the Lions, the ones built for combat!” Protested Hunk, spreading his arms as if to indicate the amount of damage that would be dealt if they lost those two. “They would be so dangerous in enemy hands!”

“I understand that,” replied Allura slowly, eyes fixed on Keith and Lance, both oddly silent.

Lance had been very vocal about his dislike of Shiro’s plan to get Lotor on the throne, and Keith was always more than happy to give his (often infuriated) input on a plan, so their silence made her throat run dry. She never thought she’d actively want Lance to be chatty.

“Still, they are our best bet. Those two are particularly suited to work together, and even if they are lost, the peril that will put Keith and Lance in is likely to make them return to us.” Allura looked down, lips pursed. “But this is a huge risk. Considering everything that has been happening, if you do not feel—”

“We have to!” Keith’s voice echoed in the small space, his shoulders braced and stance shifting forwards just slightly, like he used to whenever infuriated by his teammates. “This could end the war! If Lotor gets on that throne,” he punctuated this with a burning glare at the Galra prince, “then we could make an alliance. All we would have to do after that is quash any uprisings, and the Blade already took a lot of potential leaders out of the picture yesterday! The war would practically be over!”

“We’d be risking everything!” Burst out Pidge, pivoting and whipping an arm to the side, eyes glinting with rage. “We don’t even know if this will work, and if we make a single wrong step, that’s it! The war is lost! And if you do it like this, then you have no backup from us; we can’t do anything! You can’t just risk everything like this!”

“How do you think we’ve gotten everything we have?!” Shot back Keith, spinning to face her like a firestorm. “Look, I just spent a long time with the Blade of Marmora, and do you want to know why it took them so long to make any progress with the war effort?! Because they wouldn’t take risks! Allura, you said it yourself! We get great results when we take risks, because we make our enemy risk just as much as us!”

Pidge looked ready to electrocute Keith, and Hunk hung back awkwardly, as if scared that a single misstep could get him decapitated.

“So basically, we would be risking the war,” said Lance, folding his arms. “If we win, boom, the war is pretty much finished. If we lose, well, that’s pretty much that. We lose.”

“Exactly!” Keith and Pidge’s shouts mingled into a chorus of determined rage, and Allura felt her hand tightening on her arm.

This was exactly how her team had splintered just the other day. Regardless of the firepower, was risking the team and their ability to form Voltron worth the victo—

“I think we should,” decided Lance.

Every head in the room snapped around to stare at him, and the Cuban’s slight gulp seemed deafening in the sudden silence. “Look, at some point or other, we’re going to go into a battle that decides the war. If we do it like this, we’re less likely to lose everything. We’re not flying Voltron in there, just a couple of the Lions, and those least likely to get lost. It seems like a good plan to me.”

Pidge fumed, hands tightening around her bayard like she wanted to chuck it out the window.

“You were so against it yesterday,” she growled stonily.

“I was,” agreed Lance. “But that was because it was all of Voltron, not just a few of the Lions.”

For some reason, Pidge’s face continued to contort in rage, the fury only gaining fire in her eyes.

“I didn’t like the plan we were going with,” explained Lance gesturing as if trying to keep the small girl from impaling him. “This one is much more, well, logical—”

“It just means you’re more likely to get killed!” Exploded Pidge. “Without Voltron, you guys don’t have the firepower to fight all of them off! Especially with increased security!! You’d be running straight to your death!”

Lance stared, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as Pidge’s bayard began to glow with fury. Then, slowly, the rage seemed to drain from her body, and her eyes fixed on the chair Lance always sat in when piloting his drone. Her voice came out oddly soft.

“I just got my family back.”

Her hand trembled against her side, and Matt’s heart clenched as if trying to strangle him. Shiro’s words rang out clear in his head. Look after your sister. Talk about disobeying orders…

“If you die, I swear—!” Lance’s hand on Pidge’s shoulder cut off her shout, and the Cuban gave her a soft, gentle smile.

“Hey, come on, I’m the great sharpshooter, remember?” He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder tightly. “You can’t get rid of my charming self that easily!”

Pidge’s shoulders rose furiously and her voice echoed in the room like she was right next to a loudspeaker.

“Lance, I’m being serious here—!”

The rest of her words were smothered by the tight hug she was suddenly locked into, and Lance rested his chin atop her head, whispering so softly only she could hear.

“We’ll be back before the day’s over. No matter what happens at that ceremony, I’ll bring Keith home with me.”

His arms tightened around her, and Pidge slowly relaxed into the hug. “I promise. We won’t leave you alone.”

Pidge scowled and brought her own arms around him, tight as she hid her oddly shimmering eyes.

“It’s not worth the risk,” she whispered.

Matt, her father, Shiro, they had all said they would come back too. But this was a war. There were no guarantees.

“Um, I’m with Pidge.” Hunk’s voice startled everyone, and the Yellow Paladin pressed his thumbs together as several sets of eyes suddenly locked on him. “Look, even if we aren’t risking losing the Lions, we are risking losing their paladins! The Lions might be too late rescuing them, and then what are we supposed to do?!”

He gestured frantically at Keith and Lance as he continued, completely ignoring the anger on Lotor’s brow. “If we can’t form Voltron, then we’ve still lost the universe’s last hope! Plus, we’ve never seen the Lions come to save these paladins! Nope nope nope, this is too dangerous!”

Impatience started to creep into Keith’s stance, but Allura’s voice made him still.

“It is quite a risk,” she admitted, looking down, a quiet steel in her eyes. “However, the payoff would be incredible. And we have taken several risks in the past, and they have all paid off. It may be a gamble, but I truly believe we can do it.”

She surveyed the people in the room, each with the glint of battle in their eyes, stronger than when she had first met them. “I believe we can end this war.”

Pidge flinched against Lance, hands tightening into fists against his back, and teeth clamping together so hard they squeaked.

“If you don’t come back, I’ll kick you into an alternate reality, McClain.”

Lance just smiled and pulled back, holding up a fist and locking eyes with the smaller girl.

“You got a deal there, Pidgeon.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, then slammed her fist into his hard enough to make him yelp, a crooked grin spreading across her lips.

“You’ve been warned!”

“Hey!”

A collective laugh rippled through the room, though Hunk still looked unconvinced and Lotor was still frowning ever so slightly.

“There’s another planet nearby that we need to liberate,” added Allura, slowly relaxing. “This one should be manageable with just a few Lions, but there will be no backup if something goes wrong.”

She turned then, locking eyes with Keith. “You two will have to get out on your own, no wormholes or anything. Can you do that?”

Keith raised his chin, shoulders back and hand settling at the knife by his side.

“We can.”

Allura nodded, satisfied, but Matt’s eyes remained settled on Lance. His lips pursed ever so slightly.

“Very well then. Lotor, you are to accompany Lance and Keith to the Kral Zera, where you will secure the throne,” stated Allura, back straight and eyes flashing. “However, if it appears that the Lions or their paladins are at risk, I am ordering you now to return at once and abandon the mission. We have defeated Zarkon, we can beat whoever is on the throne as long as we have the paladins.”

Her crystal-blue eyes bored holes in Lotor’s face, daring him to suggest otherwise. “No matter what happens, you three are to return here alive.”

Keith felt the edge of his mouth quirk up a bit. Ah, it really was good to be back.

“Understood, Princess,” replied Lotor, bowing slightly, and Keith nodded once at Allura swiftly.

Lance grinned and slapped his hands together, rubbing eagerly and glancing at the door.

“So, should we get started right away?”

“Yes,” said Lotor immediately. “If we don’t leave now, it is very likely that some other contender for the throne will light the fire first. I would rather this war not drag out any longer than it must.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Asked Keith, a familiar smile curling on his lips; the one he always wore when he dove headfirst into a stupid, dangerous situation. “Let’s get going!”

Lance and Keith came to the silent agreement somewhere along the walk to the lions that Lotor would, under no conditions, be allowed inside the Black Lion, so Lance dragged the purple prince off to Red as soon as they were in the hangar.

“Allura will send me the coordinates,” said Keith into the headset as his seat slid into position, hands automatically grasping the controls. “So be sure to watch my back, okay Lance?”

“Always, samurai,” scoffed Lance as Red roared to life and the Castle doors began to open. “Let’s end this!”

Keith let out a battle cry as he ripped the Black Lion’s controls to the side, rolling away from the blast of purple energy that tore through the air barely millimeters to his right. Lance dove, spiraling around the shot, and Keith could hear his shouting to Lotor through the helmet.

“Hope you Galra are like cats, ‘cause you’re going to look pretty dumb if you don’t land on your feet!”

There were faint sounds of spluttering following this statement, and then Red’s jaws snapped open, and a distinctly purple shape was thrown down into the coronation room. Keith snickered.

“Did you actually just drop him?”

“Uh, duh!” Snorted Lance, spinning and blasting fire through the ion cannon still trained on Keith. “If he said you have to get us closer one more time, I would have dropped him without the mountain below!”

Keith chuckled, shaking his head fondly and forming the jawblade as he whipped towards another enemy ship.

“That’d make this whole thing pretty pointless,” he pointed out as the Black Lion sliced open the side of the battleship, swiveling around and embedding her head in the cold metal.

Keith grinned. “Not that the thought isn’t entertaining!”

Black’s laser blasted straight through the ship, carving a trail of sparking red through the wall, and the sentry-piloted ship erupted in flames. Keith tore the controls back, and Black sprang away from the explosions with a contented growl.

“Heh, enjoying yourself over there, Mullet?” Called Lance, sniping two fighter ships with Red’s tail, and snatching a third by its wing. “Just try to keep up!”

A wave of nostalgia washed gently over Keith, and he distinctly remembered the two slamming headfirst into the rough sands of Arus all those phoebs ago, of Lance’s half-audible groan of I win making him want to both punch his comrade and dissolve into a heap of laughter.

“You want to make this a competition, huh?”

“Uh, obviously!” Replied Lance with a snort, hurling the fighter into another ship and spinning towards the nearest battleship. “I’m always up for a chance to cream you!”

Keith knew this was usually his cue to remind Lance to focus on the battle, or to snort and say that obviously Lance needed all the chances he could get, but instead he raised his chin and floored it. The familiar banter sent a thrill through his very core.

“Bring it!”

His blade tore through another small ship, and he catapulted off a fighter vessel to blast an incoming missile into space clutter. Red whipped past him, fire burning through a battleship’s ion cannon, and claws digging into the side of the ship. Lance let out a yell as he dragged the silver talons through the dark metal, ripping jagged red lines in the side of the ship.

Keith’s blue laser decimated two fighters trying to ram into Red, and he batted an incoming ship aside with a deft swing of Black’s paw. Grunting, he straightened the lion just as Lance sent a stream of fire through the cockpit of the battleship. It looked like these were all piloted by drones; the Galra themselves were down on the ground and fighting. Lotor had mentioned that his spies would be at the coronation, and would come to his aid, so they didn’t have to try and protect him once he was on the ground. Which was good, because Keith saw a swarm of fighter ships incoming and at least twenty more battleships. This was ridiculous!

“Lance!” He shouted, pushing the Black Lion forwards and swooping past the destroyed battleship. “I’m going in, I need you to cover me!”

“Roger that!” Came Lance’s immediate response.

After a tick, he added cheekily, “I’ll still take out more than you though.”

Keith could practically see that stupid smirk Lance always made when he was particularly goofy. Keith scoffed.

“Keep dreaming, Kelphead.”

“Oh, it’s on, Mullet!”

A spray of short, pale blue blasts streaked past Keith, peppering the swarm of fighters trying to surround him, and both paladins let out a nearly synchronized squawk.

“Since when can you change the size of them?!” Cried Keith, whipping the jaw blade through two small ones directly in front of him. “Or make multiple at once?!”

“I don’t know! It just happened!” Shrieked Lance, and a barrage of lasers hurtled just outside Keith’s periphery.

“Well, just keep doing it!” Replied Keith, diving out of enemy fire and barreling roughly into the nearest battleship.

Black grumbled irritably about the clumsy and rough treatment, claws tearing at the ship and laser cutting away the metal outline. Sorry about that, apologized Keith internally, and nearly yelped as he dove out of the way of the ion cannon.

“Lance, could you handle that for me?” He shouted through the comms, lion rattling from the shock wave.

“Trying!” Came Lance’s hurried reply, and the bright flashes of explosions roared in Keith’s periphere. “Move to the left, would you?”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He practically twisted the controls out of the floor, diving just barely in time as a stream of lava and fire tore past him, searing a hole through the ion cannon. Keith immediately pounced, whipping his lion’s tail around and sending a laser straight into the control room.

“Is that Loturd done yet?!” Complained Lance, veering wildly avoid a barrage of lasers, and blasting a retaliatory wave of spiralling shots into the mass of ships flying straight towards them. “‘Cause this is insane!”

“He said we’d see a beam of purple light when he finished!”

“Well, I’m seeing plenty of purple light right now! From ion cannons!” Shot back Lance, bracing himself against the blue bolts ricocheting off his armored lion with a grunt of pain.

“I know!”

The Black Lion batted aside two fighters, blade ripping through one of the ships targeting Lance. “We’ve just got to stand our ground a little longer—”

“Keith, get down!”

The Black Paladin responded without a second thought, his lion tearing out of the way of the purple laser and slamming into a nearby fighter.

“Thanks, Lance!”

“You got it, bud! Now what do you say we trounce all these guys, and then roast Loturd for taking so long later?”

Keith grinned, re-adjusting the controls and feeling the power of the Black Lion thrumming around him.

“Sounds like a plan!”

Well, yes, it was a plan, but one that both knew was destined to fail from the start. Lance flew circles around the enemy ships, peppering them with lasers and lava, and even occasionally body-slamming one or two. He dove under a battleship, tore a hole in it, and blasted the engine room to smithereens with a single, well-placed shot. With a furious battle cry, Lance shoved the powerless ship into a particularly feisty battleship whose ion cannon had been trained on Keith for the last dobash, and sent an arcing wave of fire towards the swarm of incoming fighters.

Keith made mincemeat out of the ships in front of him, tearing them to shreds with the jawblade and diving away from the resulting explosions as if he weren’t hopping off of tiny fighter ships left and right. He snapped the wing of a fighter plane between his jaws, and hurled it into the control room of an incoming battleship, then blasted an incoming cruiser. Smirking, Keith dove through the explosion, using it as cover, and zigzagged in front of another battleship, slicing straight through its ion cannon. He and Lance were holding their own, sure, and infighting had broken out among the Galra ships as well, but neither had come away unscathed. The Red Lion was badly singed from a missile blast to the face, and her armor was sporting more than a few dents from one too many missile barrages. Similarly, the Black Lion’s controls were a little slow to respond from being clipped by an ion blast, and their claws were chipped and littered with scratches after clawing through well over two dozen fighters. It was only a matter of time before one of them got hit directly by an ion cannon, and neither lion was in a good enough condition to withstand that.

“Lance! How are you holding up?!” Shouted Keith, narrowly avoiding a flurry of lasers, and colliding roughly with a fighter ship in his haste to get away.

“Peachy!” Replied Lance cheerily, even as explosions and ringing metal nearly overrode his voice on the comms. “Already lost count of how many more fighters I’ve taken down than you!”

The comms fizzed, drowning out his next few words, so all Keith caught was Red--ion--cool--Keith--core--

“Lance?” He called, swerving around two battleships in an attempt to get closer to the Red Lion. “You’re breaking up! What’s going on?”

“--room--Kei---Lotor---ge-----SNIP--OU!”

To his dying day, Keith had no clue how he was able to decipher that fragmented excuse for a sentence, but he immediately wrenched Black’s controls to the side. Then he threw all his weight forwards, shooting towards the ceremonial room where Lotor was still fighting for the throne, eyes darting around the battlefield in a frenzy.

“Where?!” He screamed into his comm, whipping past a battleship without so much as a second glance. “Where’s the sniper, Lance?!”

He was greeted with a flurry of static in response, along with the occasional snatch of an explosion or the fragment of a scream.

“Lance!”

“----*-----!-----KE-”

“LANCE!”

“------!------RI----U----**---SE------TH!--CA----!”

Keith swore, diving at full speed towards the coronation room, eyes flickering to the right and darting up, trying to unscramble Lance’s mostly obliterated message. What was wrong with the comms?!

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lotor. The Galran was holding a torch in one hand and his weapon in another, kicking back an attacker and marching up towards the pyre like it was a parade and not a freaking battlefield around and above him. Keith made a mental promise to trip the inconsiderate prince into a garbage can later, but for now, he zeroed in on where Lotor was about to be. He couldn’t account for all the angles, but if he just covered the top of the room, then maybe—

“-----!!!------EI----NO-----**!-----DOW------ON---------!!---EN------*IRTY-----NGL---!”

Keith growled, throwing his lion forwards with all his might and letting out a battle cry that drowned out everything else around him. All his senses sharpened. It was like looking through a telescope; like he could see each combatant below him, from Haggar to Lotor to……freaking Sendak, they just couldn’t get rid of that guy, could they? It didn’t look like Zarkon was there…

The Black Lion hummed powerfully beneath him, battered but proud, and Lance’s broken attempts to communicate became just a tiny bit clearer. Something about thirty? Thirty what? Keith’s mouth twisted, and his eyes flickered the battlefield as time slowed around him. Thirty. They didn’t have a distance measurement yet. Thirty. Time wasn’t applicable. Thirty. Thirty. Thirty.…angle?

Keith’s breath nearly choked him, one hand jerking backwards desperately, head whipping to the right, hair flying, and eyes wider than Kerberos. A half-obliterated ship rested on a nearby mountain, slumped to the side and cabin cracked open. How the heck had Lance even noticed the sniper hidden in one of the wings?

Lotor advanced towards the pyre, torch burning steadily in his hand.

Keith snapped the Black Lion’s tail around.

The sniper fired.

Chapter Text

Lance was not amused. He had been so careful this morning to do repairs on the Red Lion after that blast from the ion cannon the other day; heck, he had gotten up before anyone else to do just that! He had communicated with Red while he worked, hopping into the astral plane for a bit to handle the quintessence and controls issues, and Red had even confirmed that he had fixed everything when Allura called them for a meeting! So why exactly was the communication system malfunctioning in the middle of a battle?!

Lance cursed, swerving madly in a last-ditch attempt to avoid another ion blast, and cringing as it clipped Red’s tail.

“Lance! How are you holding up?!” Shouted Keith, his voice accompanied by the ever-so-sweet music of explosions and general chaos.

Lance grunted, sending a blast of fire through an incoming fighter, and forced a lightness into his tone that he didn’t totally feel right then.

“Peachy! Already lost count of how many more fighters I’ve taken down than you!”

He thought he could hear Keith’s amused snort at that, but a strange flicker ran across the lights within his lion, and a frown slid over Lance’s usually sunny face. “Hey, buddy, I think Red’s still damaged from that ion cannon blast the other day. I mean, it’s cool, like, I can fly her fine, but—”

Lance’s voice abruptly halted as he spun upwards, eyes flashing across the battlefield, trained from phoebs of sharpshooting, and he recognized the faint flash of a sniper’s glass in the light from a nearby explosion.

And at that angle…

“Keith! Block the coronation room!” He shouted, the lights flickering dangerously around him, and Red growled low in his mind.

She wasn’t doing that well.

“Lance? You’re breaking up! What’s going on?” Crackled Keith’s voice, perfectly clear somehow, and Lance nearly swore.

“The coronation room! Keith! They’re targeting Lotor, cover him!”

There was no response, and a flash of panic shot through Lance like he had just been doused in ice water. “Get him covered! KEITH, THERE’S A SNIPER! LOOK OUT!”

Lance spun, slapping an incoming fighter with his tail and shooting four more coming near him.

“Where?!” Keith’s shout echoed in the cabin just as Lance threw his lion forward, into the fray. “Where’s the sniper, Lance?!”

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but the words he had prepared were transformed into a scream. A fighter ship rammed straight into the Red Lion, the explosion rippling through the metal and nearly throwing Lance from his seat. His knuckles ached from gripping the controls so tightly, and sweat stuck to the inside of his helmet like a second skin. For some reason, all of the fighters seemed to have silently agreed to converge on him, and he was definitely not having it.

“Lance!”

The Red Paladin wrenched the controls around, balancing out the lion, and braced his shoulders.

“Right and up, Keith!”

“LANCE!”

Great, Keith still couldn’t hear him. Lance ground his teeth together and danced around the attacking ships, leaving a trail of lava and lasers in his wake.

“THEY’RE TO YOUR RIGHT AND UP!”

Lance dove around a pair of missiles, blasting a third out of the air before it could even touch him. “PLEASE, KEITH, TELL ME YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

All he heard in response was a growl over the comms. Lance let out a frustrated groan, and if he could have afforded to let go of the controls for a tick, he would have grabbed at his hair in irritation. Of course Keith couldn’t figure out what Lance was saying! Rojo, why?!

The Red Lion made a similar noise of annoyance, and Lance took a deep, long breath. Okay. Okay. He had been a surrogate father for years, he could project, he could exaggerate his diction, he would be fine. He could do this. He had to do this.

“KEITH!” He roared, spinning forwards and melting a hole through a nearby battleship attempting to charge its ion cannon.

He risked a quick glance out the side window, and just barely spied Keith diving straight down towards the coronation room. Lance felt his eyes bug out, and his hands tightened on the controls as desperation leaked into his voice. “KEITH, NO! YOU CAN’T JUST GO STRAIGHT DOWN, THE SNIPER’S OFF TO THE SIDE! COME ON, LISTEN YOU MULLET! THEY’RE ATTACKING AT A THIRTY DEGREE ANGLE! KEI—”

And then Lance had to lurch out of his seat, ramming the controls as far down as they could go in a panicked attempt to dodge the missiles he hadn’t noticed until now. One flew mercifully past Red’s face, but the other crashed right into the side that had already been damaged by the earlier fighter ship slamming into it. The lights in the Red Lion flickered once, twice, three times.

Then the cabin went dark.

“Hoooooooooooohhhhh está bien,” squeaked Lance, suddenly distinctly aware of exactly where in space he was floating. “¿Uh, Rojo? ¿Quizás no es el mejor momento para una siesta? ¿Amiga?”

The Red Lion let out something between a growl and a groan in response, and Lance winced. “¡Lo sé, lo sé!”

His fingers squeezed impossibly tighter around the controls, and he saw an ion cannon charging out of the corner of his eye. “¡Pero aún no hemos acabado, niña! Tenemos trabajo que hacer!”

Words rang through his head, overshadowing the pounding of his heart, and he let his Lion tap into them too.

Lance, I’m being serious here—!

If you don’t come back, I’ll kick you into an alternate reality, McClain!

No matter what happens, you three are to return here alive.

And his own voice. His own vows.

We’ll be back before the day’s over. I promise. We won’t leave you alone.

That was one oath he would never go back on.

Red let out a weak groan in the back of his mind, Keith swung Black’s tail, the sniper fired, and the ion cannon flashed bright purple.

The cabin lights flickered back on.

Lance threw the controls to the right, diving away from the blast of purple whipping towards the Red Lion.

Keith grunted, the Black Lion shuddering as the sniper’s shot collided with her tail, and the paladin raised his head with a cocky smirk.

“Heh, not today, jerkbag.”

Lance felt the ion cannon clip Red’s claws, and winced as the lights nearly went out on him again.

“¡Lo sé, lo sé!” He cried, wrestling with the controls as the lion spun around him. “¡Sólo un poco más, niña—!”

And a swirl of purple light pierced the sky.

Lotor stood before the pyre, turning and staring down at those who were now his subjects. Four aliens were at his side, all battle-weary, but Keith didn’t bother to watch him make some sort of rousing speech.

“Lance!” He shouted, Black bounding through the air in search of the Red Lion amongst the masses of destroyed ships sinking slowly to the ground, as if gravity here was weaker than on Earth.

It probably was, but Keith really didn’t care right then.

“Lance, do you copy?!”

All he got in response was feedback, and the Black Lion was still a little shaky from a good half varga of constant, battering fights, so he couldn’t even move that fast.

“Lance, come in!” His voice cracked, and his eyes raked over the flaming rubble with a terror more burning than anything around him. “Lance!”

“------------------------------------”

“Lance?! Are you there, Lance?!”

Keith spun, desperately wishing Allura were here with Blue to scan the rubble for Red. It was possible that his communications system was still acting weird and he was just fine, but somehow that seemed unlikely. Communications systems didn’t just stop working for no reason.

“Come on, Lance! Answer! Where are you?!” Cried Keith, throat closing and horror pulsing through his veins.

“-------------------------------------------------------------------------”

Not again. Quiznak, please, no, not again. He couldn’t lose someone else like this! Lance couldn’t just vanish into thin air! He needed him!

“LANCE!”

“---------------------------------------------------------------------------”

Nothing. No no no no no, Lance had to come home with him! Pidge was probably throwing her weight around on the mission right now, desperately trying not to think about what could be happening to her pseudo older brother. Hunk was likely talking a mile a dobash, overthinking everything and making a hundred references to Lance that would make everyone else want to kill him, because he just wanted to know that his best friend was okay. Allura…Allura was probably piloting calmly, with focused eyes and a firm voice, keeping the others on task as if her own hands weren’t shaking whenever she heard his name. And Keith……Keith was here. He was supposed to protect Lance. Supposed to bring him home. He wasn’t supposed to be waiting!

“Lance, please come in!” Cried Keith, fingers clutching the controls like they were a lifeline, and shoulders shrinking in on himself as the silence and static only dragged out.

There was nothing.

Nothing but the cold crackle of static and an aching hole in Keith’s chest.

“--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------e------------”

Keith’s head snapped up, gaze whipping from one side to the other and voice catching on everything he still needed to say.

“Lance?! Are you there?!”

“-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------”

Keith spun his lion around, mouth open to shout again, when he finally saw what he had been looking for all this time. Bright red and white.

“Lance!” Cried Keith, leaning forward in relief even as his comm still hummed with static.

The Red Lion was already on the ground, curled around herself as if napping, and Lance stood a few feet away, waving at the Black Lion soaring overhead. As he approached, Keith saw that Lance looked exhausted. His breaths were heaving, there was a trickle of blood running down his face as if he had hit his head, and all his movements were labored and slow. He was scratched and beaten up, bruises decorated his chin, and his lip was split. Keith had never been more glad to see him.

“Keith!” Shrieked Lance as soon as the Black Lion’s mouth opened, but Keith needed no encouragement.

He was out a tick later, aching as if he had been the one getting pummeled instead of his Lion, blood seeping into his gloves from clenching the controls too tightly, and head pounding like a drum. So, of course, the first thing he did was tackle Lance in a hug that sent both weakened boys sprawling flat on their backs, knocked the air from their lungs, and nearly gave them each concussions. Because obviously.

“…Can you walk?” Murmured Keith, slowly pulling back as Lance continued to lie, stunned, on the ground. “Is Red okay?”

That snapped Lance out of his daze fast.

“Uh, yeah! I mean, well, I can walk, but I don’t think Red’s going anywhere for a while.”

He rubbed the back of his helmet, glancing over at the snoring Red Lion with a mix of irritation and fondness. “Turns out she’s not fully recovered from that ion blast to the face the other day, so the comms ended up shorting out.”

Lance made a face at his Lion, muttering something about stubborn and paladin, and Keith was pretty sure his comrade had just compared the Red Lion to her first paladin.

“All right, Black and I will carry Red back to the Castleship then. Allura sent the coordinates during the battle.”

Then he made a face, and scowled at Lance. “Do I have to give Lotor a ride too?”

Lance snorted.

“Yeah, no. He told me, in his very stuck-up way, en route that he has to stay with his bodyguards and have everyone pledge loyalty to him or some other yada yada. They have a ship prepped for him to take their ‘new emperor’ back to the capitol now,” said Lance, rolling his eyes.

Keith grumbled something about just having his bodyguards pick him up from the Castleship and take him to the Kral Zera in the first place, but shrugged it off with a sigh.

“Good, I don’t want him in Black,” stated Keith.

Standing slowly, he extended a hand to Lance, who clasped it gratefully and yanked himself to his feet. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Lance grinned weakly in response, swaying even as he righted himself, and Keith groaned. “You’re as bad as your Lion, you know that?!”

“Hey!”

Ignoring Lance’s indignant squawks that Red was Keith’s Lion too, the Black Paladin tossed a blue-clad arm over his shoulders.

“Just say you need help next time instead of nearly faceplanting, idiot!”

“I’ll have you know, I was perfectly steady!”

“Heh, sure, steady as a punching bag.”

“Mullet!”

The two continued bickering all the way up Black’s ramp, throughout Keith picking up Red, and even as he punched in the coordinates for the Castle of Lions. And they absolutely, totally, without question, did not smile the whole time.

Chapter Text

As soon as the team’s mission to free Zvweila ended, Pidge plunked herself down in the ship’s hangar, curled up with her back to Green’s paw, and refused to move. Anyone who tried to suggest she do otherwise risked getting electrocuted.

“Pidge, I highly doubt they will be back until dinner,” pointed out Allura, kneeling beside the Green Paladin and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Won’t you come and have something to eat?”

“No!” Snapped Pidge, jerking back from Allura and scowling fiercely. “I’m tired of eating without my family!”

Allura’s crystalline eyes widened, her irises wavering as a time long past swam before her sight. A small dark-skinned girl, curled on the ground with arms wrapped around her knees and colorful dress glowing with embroidery. Bx! V’a bxy ixing th eyy pvtexdy Axaaf zel Lyllf! V pzey th eyy pvte youa!

And, for that tick, Pidge looked so much younger than she was.

“All right,” sighed Allura, planting herself down beside the Green Paladin. “We shall wait for them together then.”

Pidge’s head jerked up, her next breath coming up short as she turned to stare at Allura’s profile. The Princess’ long hair fell in white waves around her face, her mouth set in a firm line and diamond-blue eyes glaring at the closed hangar doors as if she could summon their Black and Red Paladins by sheer force of will. Her dark fingers were curled tightly around the white of her sleeve, and her shoulders were a wall of stone. Like she was used to those she loved not coming back.

Pidge could relate to that. The cold wind swirling around her, pressing her too-big wire glasses into her nose, reminded her of that launch day all those months ago…

Wait, wind?

Pidge spun, hand braced against the ground as if prepared to launch herself out of the opening hangar, and eyes fixed on the incoming Black Lion. Allura smiled proudly, drawing herself to her feet as the Black Lion’s paws thudded against the ground, and the heavy hangar doors that had seemed to promise failure just a few dobashes ago slid shut.

“Welcome home,” whispered Allura.

Pidge knelt, staring wide-eyed at the Lion. She felt like a soccer ball had just nailed her in the stomach.

The Red Lion lay limp in Black’s jaws.

“Lance!” Screamed Pidge, throwing herself unsteadily to her feet and sprinting towards the giant supernatural metallic animals.

Black deposited Lance’s Lion on the hangar floor next to them, and lowered their head to the ground. To Pidge, every scratch, every dent, every burn on Red just stood out more against the grey Altean tiles. No. Nonono—

“Lance!”

“Keith, please come in!” Cried Allura, pressing at her earrings with shaking fingers as Pidge dashed towards the unmoving Red Lion. “Keith, what has happened to Lance?! Where is he?!”

“............................................................................................................................................”

“Keith, I know you’re in there!” Screeched Pidge, hurling an armored boot at the Black Lion’s head with a CLANG. “Get out here! Where’s Lance?! What’s going on?!”

Slowly, the Black Lion’s mouth opened, a ramp creaking down to tap the floor. Pidge wasn’t waiting.

As soon as the ramp began to extend, she threw herself onto it and dashed into the Black Lion’s center. Her footsteps clattered down the corridor stretching towards the cockpit, and vivid memories of the graveyard where she had sprinted towards Matt’s fake headstone flashed before her eyes. Nonononononononono—

“GUYS?!”

“Pidge? What’s wrong?”

Keith. Pidge whipped towards the Black Lion’s cockpit, missing boot nearly sending her crashing to the ground as lightning danced in her eyes. Lance had promised he was coming back. He swore that, whether they won or not, he and Keith were going to return! He said she wasn’t going to be alone again! Lance had promised! So where was he?!

“Pidge, what happened? Are you okay?!” Called another voice, and Pidge’s heart stopped.

“Slow down! You’re going to knock us over!”

“Then walk faster! Pidge, what’s wrong?!”

Pidge dove into the cockpit, glasses askew and eyes burning with tears because she knew that voice.

Pidge raised her chin to scream, to shout, to roar, because why hadn’t they just said they were okay?! Why hadn’t they answered Allura, or called the Castle when they finished, or chosen a less risky plan?! She wanted to scream bloody murder at them both until their eardrums burst.

“Lance.”

It was a sob.

Allura stood outside of the Black Lion, staring up the ramp with fear scalding her vocal cords into silence. Pidge had stopped shouting a few dobashes ago, though Allura barely noticed with the thunder roaring in her own ears. She had raced through a painfully short explanation to Hunk, Coran, and Matt, who had joined her a few ticks ago, which boiled down to the fact that she didn’t know. Hunk was drowning her with questions, Matt was futilely trying to calm the Yellow Paladin, and Coran was staring at the Red Lion with a choked, haunted expression. Allura couldn’t breathe.

She had done this. She was responsible for all of it.

“KEEP YOUR QUIZNAKING HELMETS ON, YOU ABSOLUTE JERKS!” Screeched a familiar, enraged voice, making Hunk jump three feet in the air. “WE WERE TRYING TO CONTACT YOU! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH—?!”

“Pidge, I already have a splitting headache, please stop,” groaned Lance as he and Keith limped onto the ramp, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, and Pidge wiping furiously at her eyes next to them.

“LANCE!” Screamed Hunk, Allura, and Coran, easily three times as loud as Pidge, barreling towards the battered paladins.

“Hey guys–whoa!”

“YOU’RE OKAY!” Wailed Hunk, trapping Keith and Lance in a giant bear hug as tears ran waterfalls down his cheeks.

“MY BOYS!” Cried Coran, throwing his arms around the three of them, and somehow managing to capture Pidge as well, rivers flowing from his eyes.

“You had us scared beyond our senses!” Added Allura, wrapping her arms tightly around the group and hiding her watery eyes. “We thought for sure we had lost you this time.”

“Next time you guys pull anything like that, I’ll kick your butts on behalf of the entire galaxy,” said Matt, his eyes reflecting the hangar lights and a warm smile spreading across his face as he jogged up the ramp.

“Get over here, nerd.”

Pidge latched onto Matt’s sleeve, yanking him into the hug. Allura threw an arm over his shoulder, Coran ruffled his long hair, and Pidge bumped her hip against his. “You were pacing the whole time too, don’t even try to act like you weren’t worried!”

Matt squawked indignantly, trying to knock Pidge over with a hip bump, and Lance made the mistake of laughing. A searing pain shot up his side, wrenching a sharp wheeze from his lips and jolting his body forwards just as his legs gave out.

“Lance!” Yelled Keith, yanking his arm free of Pidge to catch the injured boy, slowly easing both of them to the ground. “Whoa……”

“Heh,” wheezed Lance, cocking a finger gun at Keith and smirking weakly. “Guess I leave even you at a loss for words, huh hotshot?”

“Lance, this is so not the time for—!”

Keith’s shout was interrupted by a fit of hacking from Lance which sent him doubling over as he choked on air.

“Lance!” Cried Pidge, crouched beside them barely a tick later, but Lance just gave her a thumbs-up and a crooked grin.

“No worries Pidgeotto,” he rasped, raising his unwavering blue eyes to meet hers. “I’ll be good as new in a few vargas.”

“We’re getting you to the infirmary,” growled Keith, leaving no room for discussion.

Threading one arm under Lance’s knee and steadying the one already around his back, Keith hoisted the disconcertingly light boy up as he stood. Lance coughed even more violently as if in protest, and Keith jostled him in annoyance (ostensibly to get a better grip).

“If you--drop me--I swear—!”

“Tempting…”

“Mullet—!”

Keith snorted out a laugh, tightening his hold on Lance.

“Well, last I checked, we make a good team, so you should be fine.”

“Oh, should be, very reassuring,” shot back Lance, winding his arms around Keith’s neck as the coughs continued to tear at his lungs.

“Glad to hear it,” replied Keith as they started down the ramp, ignoring the tens of pictures his teammates were snapping of them right then. “We’re having a bonding moment, after all.”

“Shut your quiznak, that is cute!” Cried Lance, shucking a pink fruit at Hunk’s head that tasted oddly like popcorn.

“I mean, sure,” replied Hunk with a raised eyebrow as he popped the projectile fruit into his mouth. “But serenading her during flight practice in front of the whole academy? I mean, talk about pressure. What if she wanted to say no?”

“Daixu doesn’t ask her for an answer!” Protested Lance fiercely. “She’s going to ask her in a private setting later where she can refuse, but Alayai beats her to the punch!”

“Dude, spoilers!” Complained Hunk, throwing a twisted, hollow, green vegetable at Lance. “I haven’t seen this one yet!”

“What?” Cried Lance in mock-horror. “You mean to tell me that the rom-com-loving-master Hunk has yet to see the masterpiece that is Qweiryuai? It was the first one Allura recommended!”

“Yeah,” growled Hunk, shooting his friend a look. “So I couldn’t find it because someone never took it out of his room! I’ll have you know I’ve seen every other rom-com on this ship!”

Pidge sighed, shaking her head as she passed Keith a bowl of crunchy vegetables generously seasoned with something akin to salt.

“You should have been here when we were watching Night of the Angel’s Fire; Lance went on such a long rant about proper communication in a relationship that I had to stop the movie!” She grumbled, valiantly fighting the fond smile trying to tug at the corner of her lips. “And he and Hunk lost it when this one movie ended with reconciliation because they were practically emotionally manipulating each other or something (I fell asleep halfway through, so no comment) and they both had the opportunity for better relationships. They were still screaming about it throughout dinner four vargas later!”

Keith smirked and took the offered bowl, tossing her a package of Yvindian candy the team had scored in their last liberation.

“Sounds like it’s good I wasn’t there,” he countered. “Or we would have had another food fight.”

“Oh, we managed that fine without you,” snorted Pidge, stuffing the strangely translucent cubes into her mouth. “I threw my entire plate at Hunk halfway through, and, let me tell you, it became a war zone.”

Once Coran had announced that Lance and Keith were to be confined to their beds for the next movement (Allura replied that they probably couldn’t keep them down for more than a quintant), the team had assembled in Keith’s room for another movie night. Blankets and pillows were piled in fluffy clumps throughout the room, and Keith was carefully laid on top of one so he could see the screen without supporting himself at all. He had insisted that Lance get the actual bed.

“Okay Pidge, you can start it up again!” Called Lance, leaning back triumphantly as Hunk tossed a handful of popcorn-fruits into his mouth and grumbled something about traitors.

Keith snickered, leaning back against the bed and popping a couple of space vegetables into his mouth. He snuck a glance over his shoulder, and nearly jumped out of his jacket when his gaze was met with a pair of ocean-blue eyes.

“You doing okay, buddy?” Asked Lance, just quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear, which made Keith simultaneously wanted to hug Lance and kill him.

“I’m not the one who was coughing up both lungs maybe fifteen dobashes ago!” He hissed, scowling as Lance made a face at him.

“I’m fine, Mullet! Could sing right through (Fuck A) Silver Lining without a problem!” Grumbled Lance, popping a fruit in his mouth and smirking at Keith’s eye roll.

“You are such a nerd!” Snorted Keith, turning back to the movie and tossing a vegetable over his shoulder at Lance.

Lance caught it in his mouth without blinking, and leaned back into his cushions as the characters on-screen threaded their hands together. There was still so much to do. They had to finish making the alliance with Lotor, he and Keith had to chew out the jerk for taking his sweet time at the Kral Zera and nearly getting all of them killed, and there would probably be a lot of resistance to Lotor taking over. There were plenty of planets that needed to be freed from Galra control, Zarkon was still out there trying to kill everyone, and no one knew where their Shiro was.

But they had just taken at least half of the Galra Empire and turned it to their side. They had established a leader who should keep this in check for his lifetime, and they had come out of it swinging. They could make the alliances they needed, and they had Voltron to fight off any uprisings. So, even just for a little while, maybe it was okay to lean back and just smile, laugh, and share food with his little space fami—team. Team.

It wasn’t for forever.

But maybe that was okay. Because it sure as heck was his now.

“Did they just kiss?! Dude, at least have a few dates first!”

“It depends on the relationship, Hunk!”

“Oh please, you still haven’t had your first kiss, don’t give me that!”

“You haven’t either, who are you to talk?”

“But neither of us kiss people on the first date!”

“This is why it depends on the person! Er, alien!”

“Yeah, but—”

“AAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHH! FOR THE LOVE OF QUIZNAK, IF YOU TWO DON’T SHUT UP AND LET ME WATCH THIS MOVIE, SO HELP ME, I WILL HACK YOUR LIONS TO BLARE YOUR MOST HATED SONGS ON REPEAT!”

Chapter Text

“Truly, my people and I could not be more grateful for your assistance,” stated Lotor, walking with the paladins toward the throne room, but mainly addressing Allura. “You have made this possible. You have made peace possible. The Galra Empire shall remember this for generations. Were it not for your help, this throne would have been gained in blood and fire. Now, it is mine to take peacefully.”

“Great! So you can ally with us and draw up a treaty like…now? Now sounds great! Thanks buddy!”

“Lance is right,” agreed Allura, sending a quick smile at the Red Paladin. “Before anything else, we must secure an alliance with the Galra Empire. I understand there will be several rebellions, and it is crucial to show where Voltron’s support lies.”

“Of course, of course. Then, Princess, shall we?”

Keith folded, his arms, scowling. Lotor had called Allura the day after the coronation, requesting a meeting to honor “the brave Paladins of Voltron” for all they had done for him, and asked that they come to the Galran palace in a few vargas. The entire palace had been chaos, with clothing flying every which way as Allura tried to figure out how to dress everyone for what might be the most important moment in this whole endeavor, and could be remembered intergalactically for decaphoebs until Lance managed to sneak out of his room and convince Allura that they should just wear their paladin armor. So, Lotor had managed to stress the quiznak out of Allura, force a still-injured Lance out of bed and to a stupid diplomatic meeting, and now was dragging it out as long as possible for zero reason. Keith didn’t like him that much right then.

“Lance, shall we?” Asked Allura, eyes twinkling.

“Of course, Princess,” replied Lance smoothly, smirking at Lotor’s clear surprise as he and Allura both stepped into the meeting room.

Pidge snickered, stretching her arms high above her head and, in the process, releasing a series of sharp cracks and pops that made Hunk edge nervously behind Keith.

“Well, now that they’re doing that, whaddya say we take a look around?” She suggested, smirk widening as she noticed a droid standing off to the side. “I bet there’s plenty to see!”

“Oh no, that tone sounds like Lance whenever he was about to get us sent to the office for something stupid again,” called Hunk, poking his head over Keith’s shoulder and screwing up his face in protest.

“Oh come on, Lance’s petty revenges were the best part of school!” Replied Pidge, cackling in remembrance. “That time he put a blowhorn under Iverson’s spinny chair? Golden.”

Keith snorted at the image of Iverson, folded arms and furious glare, sitting down hard on that chair like he always did, and nearly rocketing out of it with bulging eyes and a loud scream as a freaking blowhorn went off right underneath him.

“What did he do?” Asked Keith, already walking towards the nearest exit as he spoke. Standing still for longer than five dobashes? Not his thing.

“Well, he threw himself out of the chair and onto his knees,” replied Pidge, giggling as she matched his stride to his. “And he let out the most high-pitched shriek ever! I can’t scream that high! And his face, oh my god! When we get back to the ship, I’ll show you the pictures Lance sent me; I nearly burst a lung laughing!”

“Classic Lance,” said Keith with a chuckle, shaking his head as they strode down the hall, Hunk just behind them.

“Oh, just wait till you hear what he did to Sablan this one time!”

Keith chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and letting Pidge’s words wash over him like a warm summer wind. He could take this moment to relax, at least.

“Our first priority has to be freeing the planets that are colonized,” challenged Lance, hands folded and resting against the table as if daring Lotor to fight him. “That’s been Voltron’s mission from the start, and its how we know if we’re making progress. A progress you would be part of under our alliance.”

“Of course,” replied Lotor slowly. “However, to simply take away one’s territory after decaphoebs of ruling…I imagine it would create much chaos. It would also turn much of the Galra Empire against you.”

“We have handled the full might of the Galra Empire targeting us directly,” stated Allura. “That is of no consequence to us. You said that you would usher in a new age, and that means change. Change will always breed unrest; the mark of a good leader is one who can get his people on his side for the policies he is enacting. You have shown you can lead a team through rebellion and subterfuge quite well. I have no doubt you can convince the Empire to side with you on this.”

Lotor inclined his head slightly, eyes narrowing at the two diplomats in front of him. Allura’s jewel eyes were unflinching and kind, while the Red Paladin’s were like the sky before a storm. Very well, he would go about this a different way.

“Of course, I shall do all in my power to convince my subjects. However, that will likely take quite a few phoebs, and I think it wise to wait until I have their support to make so drastic a move. I hope you will be patient with my people.”

“Pidge, what are you doing?” Asked Keith, studying his friend as she typed with a stupidly wide grin on her computer, which was hooked up to one of Lotor’s sentries.

“Trying to see if these things understand how to have fun!” She replied immediately. “I mean, I don’t understand the depth of emotional programming to begin with, as that would mean that these things would possess a brain, but if they did that, wouldn’t that count as being alive? I mean, they’re made up of cells, but there are a few other…requirements that I really doubt they meet. So I don’t think they have a brain, but if they can understand the concept of fun, would that technically be enough to spark a response if I set up these wires to resemble the superior frontal gyrus, but that excludes the hypothalamus and temporal lobe, so it might not channel emotions as much as ideas on the fundamentals of humor, you know?”

Keith wondered if his eyes could roll far enough back in his head to see his brain; maybe that would help him figure out what on Altea his friend was talking about.

“So we’re rewiring a Galra sentry…like the ones that have tried to kill us before…to have fun?”

“Yep!” She chirped, and Hunk gave a gleeful cackle as the two wires he was connecting let out a series of green sparks.

Keith snorted, plopping down next to the two and leaning back against the nearby boxes.

“And then what? Put Pidge on his shoulders and have a chicken fight?” He joked, remembering when Adam had thrown Keith on top of his shoulders and chased Shiro around the house while Shiro had screamed that this wasn’t how the game was played and Adam insisted with a devilish grin that it totally was.

Then Hunk and Pidge’s smirks turned bright and evil, and Keith wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“I don’t think you understand,” said Lance, smiling icily. “We aren’t suggesting you do this by yourself. We are saying that a requirement of allying with the Voltron Coalition is that you release those planets from your control.”

Lotor frowned, but before he could challenge Lance, Allura stepped in.

“The planets we have freed have all established their own governments with the help of Voltron quite quickly, and they are doing quite well. Your consideration for their political stability does you credit, but our history shows no sign for concern.”

“But do you really believe that an alliance where only one side makes concessions is likely to last?” Questioned Lotor, studying the paladins in front of him skeptically. “What would the Voltron Coalition be giving up? We are both lending aid to one another, and you are asking me to relinquish control over nearly two hundred planets, but I don’t see what your side is conceding on.”

“Pidge.”

“Yes, Keith?”

“Fight me.”

Hunk snorted, and Keith’s glare was hotter than Red’s magma blast.

“Dude, you really want to get into another chicken fight?”

“I didn’t know the rules with four people!” Complained Keith from where he clung like a koala to the back of the sentry, who was letting out a robotic laugh of triumph.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m still champion,” gloated Pidge from her perch atop the sentry’s shoulders.

“Seriously Pidge, how did you do that?” Asked Hunk with a laugh as he helped Keith off the sentry’s back, the Black Paladin still scowling up at the shorter girl.

“I played against Matt all the time, you’d better believe I know how to handle bigger guys!” She replied cheerfully, hopping off the sentry’s shoulders and landing with a THUMP.

“Sucks to suck, paladude,” intoned the sentry, and Keith wondered if Pidge would electrocute him for knocking that thing’s head off.

“Whoo!” Cheered Pidge. “Let’s make fireworks next!”

“Wait, what?!”

“Come on!”

Keith just laughed, dashing after Pidge as the shorter girl took off down the hallway, and something warm bubbled up inside of him when Hunk joined him on the other side. It was almost like he was part of their little group.

“Heh, think we can wire a few to go off in the negotiation room?”

“Oh, you are on!”

Keith really needed to stop thinking aloud.

“You have made no requests of us,” replied Allura. “However, do recall that we have delivered the throne to your hands, and nearly lost two of our own in that battle. Bearing that in mind, what would you ask of us in return for relinquishing these planets from Galra control?”

“That you ensure that these planets which are freed remain allies of the Galra,” replied Lotor. “And, Princess, that you lend your assistance to a quest I have recently made progress on. It regards traces of Altean alchemy. If we work together, I believe it might be possible to unlock a substantial amount of knowledge regarding our ancestors.”

Lance nearly cringed at how Allura’s face lit up, and the words he had prepared to say felt like fire on his lips. This was Allura’s chance to reconnect to her past, to her people, to the world she had lost. Lance couldn’t count how many times he had found her crying over an old storybook, a faded photograph, or a tiny dress clearly fit for a princess. He helped as best as he could, of course, learning about old customs so he could do her hair just right, figuring out how to speak Altean fluently so she didn’t have to worry about forgetting it, and listening to all her stories. He did what he could. But he wasn’t a link to her past, to her home, like this was. He couldn’t ask her to refuse, not when he understood the desire to go home so acutely. So he simply smiled at the Altean as her eyes darted to him for half a tick.

“Those conditions sound acceptable,” stated Allura. “However, I shall only lend my assistance to this quest once the war is over.”

“But, Princess,” replied Lotor, surprise evident on his face, “the rebellions are still gathering, and there is no word of my father. We certainly have time for this endeavor now—”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Keith snickered, crouching as he watched Hunk hardwire five small grenades to food goo, Pidge flopped next to him with her code already loading. This was going to be good.

“Yes, Keith, it will be a rainbow of food goo,” stated Hunk as he strung a few packets together, “because if I can’t make an explosion of gay food goo, then what is the point?”

Pidge adjusted her glasses, a wide grin covering her face.

“I mean, you can always just make pancakes and call it a day!”

“Oh come on,” complained Hunk, “First I had to listen to Lance’s bi puns, now I’m stuck with yours too?”

“One of the upsides of the community,” she replied haughtily, “right Keith?”

Keith spun so fast he fell over, just barely catching himself as his heart thudded against his ribcage faster than Red when she was angry, a protest already on his lips. Then he remembered. Oh, he remembered. He remembered that feeling, like the world had just dropped out from beneath him or he had been thrown headfirst into a tidal wave, as if someone had wrenched his heart out and plopped it on display for the whole world to see while he protested and fought and screamed. Helpless. No, no, no, nononononono—

“Keith, you okay?”

Being helpless was everything he had strived not to be all his life. From waving a pillow and screaming at the rattlesnake that had snuck into his dad’s hut when he was three to grabbing at random clues to piece together where Shiro had gone as a sixteen-year-old, he had always tried to find some way to control a situation. He had grown up never knowing where his mom was, and having no control over that at all. He had been born helpless. And staying that way was out of the question.

“Keith? You with us?”

His father had died, and he had been bounced around through foster homes, no say in where he was going tomorrow or where he would sleep tonight. He had been completely helpless, like a piece of garbage floating in a flood, until Shiro came. Then he had been pulled out, wrapped in warm hugs, surrounded by warmth, and given a floor to grab onto. No way he wasn’t clinging to it as tightly as he could. His sexuality was just one more problem; he had seen how Shiro and Adam were treated at the Garrison, and he was already regarded as a freak because of his behavior and attitude. Being in the closet gave him control over the situation. No one knew unless he told them and kept them quiet; he wasn’t helpless here. Except now he was.

“Uh, Pidge, I really don’t think that’s nece—”

“OW!” Shouted Keith as a robotic hand slammed palm-first into his nose, his eyes snapping wide open. “Pidge, what the quiznak?!”

“You weren’t responding,” she answered with a shrug.

Keith grumbled a few colorful complaints, and Pidge snickered. “Now come on, let’s play charades while Hunk finishes this! I’m an ace at this game!”

“Piiiiiiiiiiidge,” whined Hunk, and the shorter girl gave him an entirely unapologetic laugh in response.

Keith smiled slowly. Maybe there was a way to control this situation.

“What do I not understand?” Asked Lotor coldly, glaring at Lance as he leaned back in his chair.

Lance just smiled.

“Pidge, Hunk, let’s get one thing straight,” said Keith, immediately gaining the other two’s complete and undivided attention.

There was a long moment of tense silence.

“I can finally make gay jokes now!”

“Our war isn’t over when the rebellions end,” said Lance with a fond smile. “Our war ends when all the planets we set out to free are liberated. That is when Voltron’s fight is done. That is what Princess Allura is referring to.” He glanced quickly at Allura as he said this, and she inclined her head to show him that he hadn’t misunderstood.

Then Allura leaned in, smiling with the ferocity and brilliance of a small sun.

“And that is why, in order to complete an alliance with the Voltron Coalition, you must declare all planets currently under your control independent. Effective immediately.”

Hunk and Pidge doubled over laughing, and Pidge threw her arms around Keith’s neck, nearly bowling him over.

“You’ve been holding that in for a while now, huh!”

“Do you know how many times I’ve nearly outed myself for a gay joke?” He replied with a snort, and that completely set his companions off again.

“That’s how Lance came out to Pidge!” Guffawed Hunk, wiping at his eyes as he finished hardwiring the fireworks. “You guys ready for this?”

“Born ready!” Cheered Pidge, and Keith propped himself up against the wall, a smile overtaking his face.

Maybe it hadn’t gone how he wanted it to. Maybe the clone had rendered him completely helpless in coming out.

But this situation, now, he could control. He still had a say. This was his sexuality, his people, his home, and, now, his puns. He had a choice in how much freedom he could grab from this. He was just glad he had his friends—his family—to remind him of that.

“Excellent, that should be the last of the conditions,” agreed Allura, studying the treaty drawn up in front of her with an approving eye.

Lance exhaled, not quite able to drain all the tension from his shoulders despite the wave of relief that crashed over him. Sure, he was the team’s best diplomat, but being asked to join in a meeting that decided the fate of the war and the universe…………yeah, no pressure or anything.

“I thank you, Princess Allura. From now on, the Galra will be your most steadfast allies, and we shall follow our agreement to the letter.”

“That is fantastic to hear, Emperor Lotor. From here on out, consider the Voltron Coalition your friends and partners. If ever you need help, we shall be there.”

The two clasped arms, their signatures dark against the pale paper of their treaty, and Lance smiled until his face hurt. This was always worth the pressure.

FIZZZZBANGPOPBOOMKRAKOWSHREEEEEPOWCRASH!!!!

Lights flooded the room, and a rainbow of food goo splattered the wall behind the three diplomats, narrowly missing Lotor’s arm and Allura’s blank expression that Lance knew hid her what-the-quiznak-just-happened face. The rainbow flag on the wall was a very clear answer to Lance’s identical question, though.

“What was—”

“Pidge and Hunk got bored.”

Allura sighed, shaking her head as she tried to be angry, and flicked a smudge of food goo from her white locks.

“I shall go find them. I believe they left their camera here,” she said, snatching the tiny blinking device from the wall and stalking from the room.

The door slid shut behind her.

Then Lotor and Lance locked eyes, and the air practically shimmered with ice.

“Let me make something crystal clear,” said Lance slowly, his voice closer to a growl than anything else. “You may be the emperor of a great and mighty civilization with lots of soldiers,” his eyes glittered dangerously as he continued, “but if you even think about double-crossing us or hurting any of my family—”

Lance’s shadow flickered against the wall, and Lotor swore for a tick that a snarling blue lion and a matching, glowing red one hovered in the aura of the paladin. “—I will show you exactly why the universe is scared of Voltron.”

And then Lance was two millimeters from Lotor, lips parted in a snarl and quintessence rolling off him like waves of rage. “Are we clear, Your Majesty?”

Lotor gulped.

“Perfectly.”

Lance beamed like a sunflower and hopped back, striding from the room with a friendly wave.

“Great, thanks! Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page!”

And when the door closed this time, Lotor let out a long, shaky exhale. That was one paladin he was not going to cross again for a long, long time.

“Yikes, RUN!” Screeched Pidge as Allura rounded the corner, and Keith let out a bark of laughter as he sprinted away from the enraged princess.

“How dare! Get back here, you three!”

“Whooo, feels just like old times!” Cried Hunk with a laugh, darting beside Keith as Pidge joined the two, a huge grin on her face.

“You said it!”

Keith just let out a whoop of laughter.

“PIDGE! HUNK! YOU WERE SETTING OFF FIREWORKS WITHOUT ME?!”

“Sorry, Lance!”

“I AM BETRAYED!”

“Lance, that is most certainly not the issue here!”

“BUT GAY FIREWORKS!”

To Keith, this didn’t feel like the past at all.

“We have more, Lance!”

“Oh no you do not!”

“HECK YESSS!”

“Oh yeah, let’s make some noise!”

To Keith, this felt like the future.

Chapter Text

“With all the recent upheavals, it is crucial that we maintain a close bond with our lions,” stated Allura, hands on her hips and no-nonsense expression reaching all the way up to her eyes. “Today’s training shall be focused on that, and we can run bayard work afterwards. Bond in whatever way you feel is best; each lion and each relationship is different, but be back to the Castle by three vargas.”

“Woohoo!” Whooped Lance, pumping his fists in the air and dashing towards Red. “More time with my girl, let’s go!”

“I’m going to see how Green fares underwater! I think with her smaller build, she’d have the time of her life!” Decided Pidge, jogging towards her own lion with a smirk stretching across her face.

Hunk rubbed a forefinger over his chin, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his lion. Keith was about to suggest they explore some of the wider caves around the planet when an evil grin spread over Hunk’s face and he rubbed his hands together, still chuckling as he strode towards Yellow. Keith hoped his face was blank instead of mildly terrified right then.

“Thanks for doing this, Allura,” he added to the Princess, turning to give her a small smile. “Do we have time though? It seems like you and Lance are always out on diplomatic missions these days.”

Allura’s gentle smile slid into a smirk, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Jealousy, thy name is Keith,” she teased. “But yes, we have ample time for training. Lance handled yesterday’s meeting with the Traiyotos like a dream, and this morning’s conference went much quicker than we had anticipated due to his contributions. Subsequently, we have nothing scheduled for this afternoon, and I believe some time with all of us together would be much appreciated.”

Keith ignored the jealousy comment, though he felt his smile creep wider at the mention of Lance’s accomplishments. Not to mention…

“Yeah, it is.”

He had spent the last two movements with Matt, Pidge, and Hunk while Lance, Allura, and occasionally Coran convinced some fifty-odd planets to join the Voltron Coalition. He really hadn’t known so much could be found to do on the Castleship, which was half the reason he usually ended up on the training deck. During these last movements though, the trio had introduced him to gin rummy (Hunk dominated, much to the squawking indignation of Matt), wink murder (he didn’t really want to know why Pidge was so good at that), museum (Keith beat them all every time because he just put one hand behind his back and moved that where the “security guard” couldn’t see him), and musical chairs (Matt handed their butts to them at that). Keith had made the mistake of once suggesting that they play Duck Duck Goose, and Pidge and Matt had launched into an indignant rant about it being Duck Duck Grey Duck while Hunk protested vehemently, groaning about picky Minnesotans or something. Keith had spent the entire time in confusion, and when it became heated, opted to just laugh at them. Hunk had tried to call on his Texan support, but Keith was too busy cracking up to agree or disagree. They never ended up playing the game, but Matt eventually suggested they run an obstacle course. Keith had narrowly beat him, with Pidge third, and Hunk fourth, and they had all collapsed into a giggling pile on the ground.

Of course, it hadn’t all been fun and games the whole time. Pidge was still a workaholic, same as Keith, and often dragged Hunk and Matt with her into tech conversations that Keith wasn’t even going to try and understand. But whenever Keith moved to go to the training deck, the three of them just went with him, and perched nearby while he destroyed sentries and drones, chattering in some other language Keith couldn’t understand for the life of him. It was nice though. He really never felt alone.

Still, the very Castleship seemed like it was starting to miss Lance and Allura. Hunk would look over his shoulder sometimes, an inside joke on his lips dying when he saw that his best friend wasn’t there. Pidge would poke her head into the bridge, calling crossly for Allura, only to realize that the Blue Paladin was out on a mission, and no one could miss the pout that lasted for a good half varga after that. Matt was becoming fidgety and would stay up late, waiting for the diplomats to come back just so he could talk with them for two dobashes before running off to bed. Keith could feel a hole swirling in the pit of his stomach, and he caught his eyes on the door more and more often, hoping it would open and Lance or Allura would magically step in, laughing and weaving that web of Altean, Spanish, and English between them at a mile per dobash that always made Lance’s smile turn blinding and his eyes light up like twin suns.

Though apparently it wasn’t magic, because that was exactly what had happened one varga ago, and now the team was finally all back in one room again. Well…most of the team.

Keith scowled at that thought, striding towards the Black Lion and bracing his shoulders as best as he could. He couldn’t dwell on Shiro’s disappearance, he couldn’t do that to himself and his team. Thinking about how much he missed his brother wouldn’t do anything; acting would. With Lance and Allura handling more diplomatic missions than Keith knew how to deal with, the team had been mostly stationary. Of course, they had been cleaning up the last of the Galra colonizers, but most of that was done at this point. There had been ample time for Keith to drag Pidge and Hunk with him as they scoured for hints of Shiro, and Matt usually flew along in Green to try and find his old teammate. They hadn’t found any clues yet though.

“Keith! Bet Red and I can beat you and Black in a race!” Called Lance, making a face at him from across the hangar.

Keith rolled his eyes, sending a smirk back at his right hand as he yanked his helmet on.

“I wouldn’t put money on that!” He teased, snorting with laughter at Lance’s exaggerated gasp of offense, and gave a little wave as he slipped into his Lion.

He didn’t miss the soft smile Lance sent in return.

“Hey, Black,” called Keith as he plopped into the pilot’s seat. “Haven’t really had the chance to talk since I got back, I guess. Uh……how are things?”

Keith swore he felt a wave of amusement pass through the Lion’s mind, and scowled at the controls in front of him in response. Right, right, Black couldn’t exactly use words to explain how they had felt lately. Still, having the clone piloting them and then betraying the team……Keith felt like he had good reason to be worried about the Lion.

Another wave passed over Keith, almost like a cosmic eye roll, and the Lion lit up under him as if saying this conversation was done and they were flying now. Guess he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like talking about the clone and Shiro’s disappearance.

“Alright bud,” he muttered, fingers tightening around the familiar controls, and back relaxing into the seat. “Let’s fly.”

Allura slid eagerly into the Blue Lion, a pulse of welcoming passing over her.

“Hello, Blue,” she said, sinking into the Altean as the lights in the cabin softening just the slightest in response to the slight throb of her head, and she closed her eyes with a blissful sigh. “It is good to be back. Would you like to hear about our last mission?”

The Blue Lion pulsed her affirmation, and Allura launched into a full description of the aliens she and Lance had just spent three vargas negotiating with. It was the perfect way for her to unwind and complain without anyone telling her that she had to be reasonable, and she knew that Blue liked hearing about Lance too. Of course, Blue loved knowing how Allura was doing, but she would always be protective towards their current Red Paladin. It was a feeling Allura more than understood.

“And you would not believe the audacity of this complete scumbag! I can scarcely believe that they would try to—”

Pidge popped into Green, relishing in the feeling of her Lion roaring to life under her, and immediately launched into a new theory she had about the relation between dark matter and quintessence. Her Lion grumbled at the lack of greeting, but seemed to curl around her as she listened to the girl’s boundless enthusiasm about science. Pidge would yank her out for a swim in a dobash, and she was always happy to listen to her human’s hypotheses. Plus, it didn’t exactly sound wrong…

“¡Vamos Roja, hay que hacer una explosión!” Declared Lance, turning his music up to the max and throwing the controls forwards with a wild whoop.

Red let out an excited roar as she tore out of the hangar, shooting up to roll through the clouds, and accidentally sending a stripe of fire through the sky. Lance laughed, singing at the top of his lungs along to an Altean song that roughly translated to Showtime in English. Red hummed in appreciation, timing her bounds to the beat of the music, and Lance sent a wave of gratitude back towards her. He had really missed this. He loved negotiating and bringing planets to their side, but he missed the action and adrenaline of fighting with Red.

Red throbbed with agreement, and Lance chuckled, rubbing a thumb over her controls. Three vargas wasn’t long enough.

“Entonces. ¿Qué dices si nos ponemos un poco locos?” Said Lance, grin stretching up through his eyes as Red roared her approval, bounding off a stone pillar and spiraling into a maze of stone towers.

Play time!

“Hey buddy,” greeted Hunk cheerily as he stepped into the Yellow Lion. “What do you say to a few rom-coms? I managed to find a few in Lance’s room, and I think we can get two in before I have to leave.”

Yellow sent an approving hum in response and snuggled into his gigantic bed Hunk had commissioned Lance to make phoebs ago. Hunk smiled and placed the cylinder (apparently the Altean equivalent of a DVD) on top of one of Yellow’s consoles. The Lion scanned the video and popped up a large holographic screen, running the movie while Hunk kicked back with some of his alien salty-veggie snacks. He popped one in his mouth, and as the first words were translated across the black screen, snorted out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, I can see why Lance would like this,” he chuckled, snuggling into the seat (which he had padded with pillows) and letting out a contented sigh. He tended to do this when he found the time, just snuggle up in his Lion and get to know Yellow better. He loved these peaceful moments.

“Uh oh, starts off with a breakup. Time for a rebound!”

“Probably with a best friend,” agreed Yellow.

“Exactly!” Complained Hunk, flicking another veggie snack into his mouth.

He munched contentedly, wondering if he should try adding a little more uvilan to the snacks, it might make them spicier……

“Wait, YELLOW YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?!”

Keith rolled his shoulders as a long sigh of relief slipped past his lips, caverns and tunnels racing by beneath him. He could feel Black’s thrum of pleasure at the peaceful landscape, and he leaned back into the warm waves pulsing through the cabin.

“You want to take a lap around the village?” He asked, smile playing on his lips as he remembered how excited all the villagers had been when Lance had snuck off the ship to perform tricks for them in Red.

It’s part of diplomatic relations! he had claimed in mock indignation when Allura chewed him out, but the little giggle that had immediately slipped past his lips gave his words absolutely no weight. His nose had scrunched really cutely then too…

Keith could feel Black smirking now.

“Knock that off,” he grumbled. “Come on, we don’t want to be late back to the Castle.”

Black gave their equivalent of a chuckle and glided serenely past a forest of stone pillars, boosters activating lightly to speed them towards the tree line that marked the entrance to the village they had recently liberated. It hadn’t been an easy fight, and they could have really used Lance and Allura when a bunch of sentries retreated to long distance and opened fire on them. Sure, they had managed, but Keith definitely wouldn’t have needed to tackle Hunk out of the way of three laser bolts if the rest of their team had been there. Keith was really starting to understand why everyone had been so ticked off when he had drifted towards the Blade of Marmora.

Then a familiar ship caught his eye, and his next breath echoed sharply around the cabin. A little smirk spread across his lips.

“Sorry Black, could we get a rain check on that lap?” Asked Keith, leaning forward in the seat and already starting to bring the Lion towards the ground. “There’s someone I want to catch up with.”

Black let out a low grumble, nudging an image into Keith’s mind before raising their chin huffily. Keith nearly spit.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW EVEN ABOUT THAT?!”

An amused hum and a flash of red in his mind.

“RED!” Complained Keith as if the Lion could hear him, throwing up his arms and nearly flying Black into a stone tower by accident. “AND THAT DOESN’T EVEN COUNT, I DIDN’T CRADLE YOU IN MY ARMS!”

“Ah, Black Paladin Sir, always an honor to see you!” Greeted the guards, bowing as Keith approached.

“Uh, yeah, just checking in. Everything good?” Replied Keith joltingly, hands itching to rub at the back of his neck or fold across his chest despite Allura’s complaints that it made him seem unprofessional.

“Yes, Black Paladin Sir! Thanks to Voltron, our city has been thriving! Do come in!”

“Thank you,” sighed Keith gratefully. “And, uh, glad to hear it! That the city’s been good, I mean!”

The pinker guard smiled sympathetically, and Keith silently prayed for the ground to just open up and swallow him, like, right now? Please?

“Indeed!” Cheered the greener guard, raising her spear towards the sky as if in challenge. “Next time those Galra come and try to rule us, I’ll throw them past Yerainol! You should see the new move that Sir Red Paladin taught me last time; I can defeat a whole battalion with this kick alone!”

The greener guard launched into a description of exactly how far to twist her foot, and Keith glanced nervously at the gate and then back at Black, who was still scowling in his mind because he had “interrupted their bonding moment.”

“Black Paladin Sir, you wanted to get inside, right?” Finally asked the pinker guard, taking pity on the flustered teenager, and Keith leaped at the chance.

“Yes! Please!”

“You are welcome here anytime,” he said warmly, pushing open the gate and mercifully taking no notice of how Keith tripped over a cobblestone and nearly fell in his haste to get inside.

Keith let out a long groan, giving in to the desire to fold his arms over his chest and tilting his head back as he stepped quickly towards the main square. He made a mental note never to come here with Lance; they wouldn’t make it past the front gate without a varga-long conversation. Still, the fact that he had taught that alien a fighting technique……a soft smile stole over Keith’s face, and he pulled off his bright red helmet.

Shaking out his hair, Keith made a mental note to talk to Allura about switching armors; the fact that his armor didn’t match his Lion was getting on his nerves, and he knew Black didn’t like it either…

“Do I spy a reckless kit loitering over there?” Called a teasing voice then, and Keith raised his head with a small smile.

“Azve. Been a while,” he replied, crossing the town square towards the towering Blade of Marmora ship.

The tall Galra pulled another box from her ship, setting it down and popping off the lid. She handed it to one of her associates, and turned back to Keith as he reached the base of the ramp.

“So it has been,” she agreed, a slight smile playing on her lips. “I heard you have gone on leave?”

“Yeah, Voltron called,” replied Keith. “What are you doing out here? I thought you were on an extended mission to Hjaol?”

“I lost information saving Faken from Haggar, and Kolivan made good on his promise to take me off the front lines if I did that again,” said Azve, shrugging easily. “He knows I’d do it again, after all.”

“Yeah, the one time I asked Kolivan to put me on a mission with you, he looked like he would rather fly a fighter into Zarkon’s battleship himself,” remembered Keith with a chuckle, and Azve let out a bark of laughter.

“He would. Now, how have things been on your end? I hear Voltron has been making excellent progress in the last couple of movements.”

“Yeah,” agreed Keith, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “though Lance and Allura are doing most of the work. Hunk, Pidge, Matt, and I have been freeing planets, but it’s those two who convince them all to work with us afterwards.”

Azve sighed, shaking her head with a fond smile and turning back towards her ship.

“You never could take a compliment, could you?” She commented. “Regardless, I have some information for your team about combat on our front. All of Warlord Ranveig’s fleet went missing a few quintants ago; it has put everyone on edge. If you could come aboard, I’ll pull up a map for you to take. It is tracking Haggar and Zarkon’s fleet as we speak.”

“That would be great, Azve. Thanks.”

Azve smiled in response, and the two were already halfway up the ramp when she spoke again.

“So, when are you coming back?”

Keith froze, staring at her long hair uncomprehendingly as his throat slammed closed and blood rushed to his ears. That was right. He had told Kolivan he was on leave until further notice. The Blade was still waiting for him to come back. And eventually, they’d find Shiro again, and the team would have one paladin too many. The way Lance had looked when he talked about stepping down from Red……when Keith thought about putting Shiro through that………

“Keith!” Shouted a familiar voice, like the summer sun bouncing off of ocean waves, and Keith’s pulse automatically soothed back into a steadier rhythm.

“Lance,” he breathed gratefully as his right-hand pounded up the steps of the ramp, skidding to a halt beside them with a wild mess of hair and hands on his knees. “Perfect timing. Azve has some information on Zarkon’s movements—”

“Where……” Interrupted Lance, shoulders heaving with breath as he raised his head just enough to lock eyes with Keith. “Where are you going?”

Keith quirked his eyebrow, gesturing lamely at the giant ship behind him.

“Um, to see the map? There’s no point in going to planets that the Blades have already freed.”

Lance wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand and turned a half-smile on Azve.

“Mind if I join in? I’m Lance, by the way, the Red Paladin.”

Azve’s smile immediately widened, and Keith shot her a don’t-even-think-about-it look that he doubted had any effect whatsoever.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lance. I have heard much of you.”

Yep, great. Keith wasn’t leaving those two alone for a tick on or off this ship.

“Oh yeah, probably about how awesome and beautiful and cool I am, huh?” Claimed Lance with a gleaming smile, and Keith turned bright red.

“More like how atrocious your singing is!” He interjected, starting up the ramp hurriedly. “Azve, the map! Lance and I need to get back to our Lions.”

“Oh no you don’t! No one insults my singing and gets away with it! Get back here, Mullet!” Shrieked Lance, leaping after Keith and giving chase as the older boy broke into a run, a bark of laughter slipping past his lips.

Azve just stared, unblinking at the two. Lance made a grab at Keith, who dodged to the side and suddenly squealed when Lance’s free hand poked at his stomach. Should she be concerned? He didn’t sound like he was in pain, though…?

Lance blinked as if surprised, then a gigantic grin spread across his face and he caught at Keith’s sides, fingers tapping like a piano across his skin. Keith squirmed and protested and shrieked, but he was smiling and laughing in a way Azve had never seen before…

“Ha, I have you now!”

“Lance, I swear—!” Choked Keith, his next words drowned out by laughter as Lance barragged him mercilessly with tickles.

“You have insulted my singing, pay the price, Mullet!” Replied Lance, chasing Keith around as he tried futilely to escape.

Keith’s next protest was unintelligible because he was snorting with laughter, his stomach hurting so hard from laughing he was doubling over, and Lance was still finding a way to tickle him, how on—

Azve cleared her throat, and both boys turned to stone. Keith blushed, straightening up, and Lance slipped behind him, all animation abruptly quenched from his stance.

“My apologies,” said Azve, making her way over to them with a slight smile, “but I do recall Keith saying you needed to get back to your Lions, and I don’t want to interrupt any training exercise you might be on.”

“No, not at all. Thank you for keeping track of the time,” replied Lance, his spine straightening and smile becoming polished. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience your supply operation. Where was this room you mentioned?”

Azve eyed Lance skeptically, but gestured for them to follow and strode down the hall. Lance took a step after her, then glanced back at Keith with guilt written all over his face.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was my bad; I shouldn’t have done that.”

Keith scowled, folding his arms and glaring at his right-hand man.

“Lance,” he growled, “Azve’s a friend, not just an ally. Now stop going all diplomat on me and let’s go get that map.”

Lance jumped as Keith’s hand settled on his shoulder, but the older boy’s smile when they locked eyes was confident, as if he was watching the sun in its orbit. Bright, reliable, generous, and…beautiful.

“Roger that, team leader!”

“Would you two please court later?” Called Azve, biting her lip hard to keep her smirk at bay when Keith turned blistering eyes on her.

Keith wondered if throwing his boot at her would cause a diplomatic crisis.

“We do have a map to see after all, and you two would need to keep your eyes off each other long enough to read it.”

Keith wondered if throwing his boot at her would be worth a diplomatic crisis.

“Thanks Azve, I’m sure this will help Allura a lot,” said Keith, tucking the chip into his belt and turning a smile on the taller woman.

“Anytime,” replied Azve, turning to nod formally to Lance. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too. Thanks for taking care of Keith!” Chirped Lance, shaking her hand warmly and nearly sending Keith into a fit of giggles.

The Blade of Marmora was practically a touch-free group, so even Lance’s demure handshake had Azve staring at him like he had just started glowing neon orange.

“Keith, come by and visit soon,” added Azve, casting a suspicious look at Lance like he might bite her next. “You know where the base is.”

Keith’s insides clenched, and his eyes flitted to Lance without thinking about it, searching for something……but he didn’t know what. Azve’s words from earlier surged up inside his head, and his mouth ran dry. When are you coming back?

“That reminds me, Azve, I have something for you.” The words were pulled from his mouth before he had time to think them through, and then Keith was clattering down the ramp and dashing towards Black, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

Was he happy about leaving Lance alone with Azve, to whom he had ranted multiple times about how pretty those celestial blue eyes were? No. But was he aware that this was his only opportunity to do this? Yes.

As Keith raced back to the Black Lion, words and images crowded into his mind, vying for his attention, but he focused in on one with painful accuracy. It was a mission he had gone on with the Blade of Marmora a few movements before Lance’s video call.

He was paired with three other members: Yuilpe, Dsein, and Surak. Recently, a small planet near the main base had been retaken by enemy soldiers, and Kolivan wanted to see if they could take it back. Keith and his team would go in, scout out the place, and report back on whether it was possible or not.

Keith sprinted up the steps of the Black Lion, throwing himself into the cockpit and rifling through an old cabinet in the back.

Keith crawled through an air vent that was too tight for him for over a varga just to get in, Yuilpe was spotted and badly injured, Dsein said it was impossible with their resources, and Surak found an underground tunnel that took about three-fourths of the time it did for Keith to get in. Getting themselves back out though…

Keith’s fingers found what they were looking for, and his shoulders relaxed automatically. He had been waiting for a chance to give this back to Azve since she was sent to a different base over a phoeb ago.

Keith sent Surak and Yuilpe through the underground tunnels, but the stronghold was already on the lookout for an invader by then. So, with Dsein climbing out through the air vent, Keith kept the guards distracted until the full fighting force was able to come over three and a half vargas later. It was pretty much one huge chase, sliding into cramped boxes and diving down random corridors to escape pursuit. At one point, with lasers stinging his skin and swords maybe a few inches from his throat, Keith dove down a nearby vent straight towards a pool of boiling water.

Keith hopped out of the Black Lion and raced back towards the ship, hoping pointlessly that Azve had tuned out at least a couple of his rants about Lance’s sweetness and dedication or preferably how gentle his hands could be.

Luckily, his knife served as an excellent handhold to propel him back up into the confused faces of the sentries who made the mistake of bending over to look for him. Keith slammed past the guards and hid in a control room. Then, fingers crossed and breath hitching, he called Pidge, showing her pictures of the dashboard. Needless to say, four dobashes later and Keith had completely messed with their systems until he was practically barricaded in. Then Pidge handed the device to Lance, who spent ages making Keith snort with laughter at the image of Hunk running around the castle carrying Shiro piggyback-style. Finally, his reinforcements arrived. Then it had been chaos.

Keith waved at the guards, who just stepped aside this time and let him dash past, the return gift clutched close to his chest and a slight smile on his lips.

The next day, Keith went out to the capital city of the planet they had saved. He was honored by their leader for his courageous actions in clearing the base, and the crowd cheered until his head throbbed. But, when the whole thing was over, he went to see the prisoners he had freed. Fathers hugged him, weeping and thanking him over and over again for bringing their children back to them. Sisters tugged at his hand and invited him to dinner. Mothers held their sons and daughters close and whispered words of gratitude Keith could hardly fathom. Brothers clung to the ones they had nearly lost and looked at Keith like he had saved not only their siblings, but themselves as well. Because he had. And Keith would happily dive headfirst into a hundred pits of boiling water to do it again. That was why he loved being a Blade of Marmora.

Keith flew through the city square, groaning at the sight of Lance gaping at Azve’s devilish grin, and hoping he could laugh away anything she said as nonsense later.

Sure, Keith missed Voltron and his family, but this chance to make a difference, to save these lives………it wasn’t something he could pass up on. He wanted everyone in the universe to have their families again. He was finally in a place to help them do that; he couldn’t turn his back on them now. He had been abandoned all his life.

“Azve!” He called, striding up the ramp and biting his lip to keep from laughing at Lance’s cherry blossom cheeks and nervous gaze (he knew he’d panic later, so he may as well find it funny while he could). “Thanks for lending this to me after that mission destroyed mine.”

Keith wouldn’t abandon these people, no matter what.

Keith smiled, placing the Blade of Marmora suit back in Azve’s outstretched hands, and meeting her eyes firmly.

“I have my own armor now. You can keep this one.”

Keith wasn’t going to walk out on anyone who needed his help. He wasn’t going to sit by while families were torn apart, while innocent aliens were tortured and slaughtered, and he wasn’t going to sit down at tables and play nice all day. That wasn’t his way.

But, wasn’t that why he had a team?

This wasn’t like last time. He didn’t have to stay back to please Shiro while Allura handled diplomatic affairs anymore. He could lead prisoners out to the Black Lion while Pidge stood guard to his right. He could flip through lists of missing people with Coran, learning each culture’s form of distinguishing families. He could dive in to battle with oppressors while Hunk gunned down enemy drones from behind him. He could hide in abandoned castles as Matt negotiated a hostage situation, ready at any tick to leap out and save the captured kids if need be. He could free countless planets and watch Lance and Allura work their alliance magic. And, this time, if he fell into a pit of boiling water, Allura and Pidge would pull him out while Hunk worried from above and Lance stood guard in case anyone tried to attack them.

This time, when he went onto the battlefield for the abandoned and broken, he would be fighting alongside his family. He wasn’t going to abandon anyone. Now all he could do was pray he wouldn’t be abandoned either.

“Tell Kolivan to give my room to a new recruit.”

Azve stared, mouth opening slowly as realization dawned in her eyes, hands tightening around Keith’s old suit and eyes becoming wide—

Arms flung themselves around Keith’s middle, and he nearly choked as Lance twirled him off the ground with an ecstatic laugh.

“Lance!” Shrieked Keith, grabbing at his friend’s shoulders as the world spun around him, Lance’s feet tapping confidently against the ramp and his arms tight around Keith. “What are you—”

“Welcome home, Samurai.”

Keith’s eyes snapped open, his breath catching and his eyes finally meeting the sapphire-blue orbs he had longed to see as a Blade. Lance’s entire face was alight, his smile outshining any sun or star Keith had flown past, wider than the Balmera’s crystal mines, and kinder than anything he could possibly imagine. Tears slid down his cheeks, his eyes glowing and swimming with water, and Keith couldn’t understand how any one thing in the universe could look so beautiful.

“Welcome home.”

Keith opened his mouth, but all the words piled on top of each other, clamoring to fly out and spin around the two paladins in this bubble of safety and love and home they had created. He tried again, but nothing came out, and something pricked at Keith’s eyes hotly. He had already given his heart to Voltron, he had taken that risk. Now all he could do was trust them.

“I’m home,” he finally whispered, winding his arms around Lance’s neck and burying his head in the crook of his elbow. “Hi, Lance.”

“Hey there,” replied Lance, his voice quivering as he finally stopped twirling, holding Keith just a little tighter in his arms. “Glad you’re here, Keith.”

Keith pulled back, his own damp smile matching Lance’s as they bumped foreheads, his breathless laugh echoed by the one holding him, and a promise of belonging shining in both of their eyes. He already trusted them more than he wanted to admit.

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

“This does not count as bonding with our Lions,” grumbled Keith, though that didn’t stop him from munching contentedly on his khavu, which was drenched in something called jauniberry sauce.

“Dude, don’t look at me. I can’t help it that Red wouldn’t let me back in,” replied Lance with a nonchalant shrug. “She seemed really smug about the whole thing.”

Yeah, Black had been supremely self-satisfied when they locked Keith out, just turning their head to point at the Red Lion when he asked what was wrong. They looked back at him, then at Red, and finally nudged him with a teasing purr that reflexively sent blood shooting to Keith’s cheeks. Finally, he just walked over to Lance, who was scowling at Red like they were having a cosmic argument, and suggested they explore the village for a while.

“Keith, Keith!” Shrieked Lance, yanking his friend forwards before he could even respond, nearly losing his khavu in the process. “They have a department store! Oh man, I’ve been waiting ages for this!”

“How come?” Asked Keith, readjusting his pace to allow Lance to pull him into the store, a smile playing on his lips.

“Keith, clothes are a show of the soul!” Exclaimed Lance as if this was obvious, twisting over his shoulder with his eyes askance. “If you feel beautiful, you will act beautifully!”

“No wonder you want a new outfit.”

“Watch it, mullet!”

Keith snickered, flicking at a black hat covered in strange, fuzzy markings and eyeing the racks of clothing with the barest smirk. He had no clue what he was doing here, but Lance was ricocheting off the wall like a superpowered energy bunny, snatching clothes from the racks and occasionally hurling something at Keith, so he couldn’t really complain.

“Come on, Keith, time for a fashion show!” Cheered Lance, shoving Keith into a dressing room and kicking the door shut.

Lance’s quick footsteps bounced into the room next door, and Keith turned his blank stare on the pile of clothes on his bench. Wow did this bring back memories. Adam had done something similar when he first saw Keith’s wardrobe, dragging the tiny boy to a store and stuffing his arms with clothes to try on. So, at least here, he wasn’t completely clueless anyway. He just put stuff on and looked in the mirror, right?

“Keith, ready?” Called Lance a few ticks later, knocking lightly on the door as Keith turned cautiously in front of the mirror to see how the jacket fell on him.

“Um, no?” Replied Keith, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he regarded the door. “I’ve only tried on one outfit.”

Lance let out some exaggerated mix between a sigh and a groan, a slight tmp signalling that his forehead was pressed against the door.

“Suddenly your mullet is making a lot more sense,” he muttered just loud enough for Keith to hear before raising his voice a little. “Keith, a fashion show means we go through each outfit together. We change, show one another, and then help decide whether we want to get it or not.”

Keith stared at the door like it had randomly decided to grow a poisonous horn.

“Why? It’ll go faster if I just choose!” He pointed out, sharper than he had intended.

Why do things in a roundabout manner instead of getting right to the point? They were in this store to buy clothes, not to spend half an hour trying stuff on and showing the other. This was like that whole chant thing all over again!

“Uh, Keith? Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have time. I don’t think Red’s going to let me back in anytime soon,” replied Lance, amusement giving his words a soft glow.

Keith couldn’t really argue with that.

“Fine, hold on a sec.”

“I thought you said you had one on?”

“I…I’m going to change it.”

“Dude, it doesn’t have to look great (as your mullet is proof of), just come on out!”

Keith scowled, pulling the jacket tighter around himself and contemplating sliding his knife under the door in response. He had thought he could get away with sneaking this over to the counter when Lance wasn’t looking just like he used to do at his orphanages, but of course that wouldn’t fly with Lance. Still, part of him was whispering now, asking what he was so scared of. This was Lance. This guy painted nails with Allura, threw his chin up proudly to show off his newest makeup, and was hands-down the best dancer on the ship. In his own words, the gender binary could meet him in the pit. What was Keith afraid of, anyway?

Lance scowled and stepped back from the door, arms folded and finger tapping impatiently against his tan skin. He didn’t know what Keith was so self-conscious about; had he actually taken that whole “show of the soul” thing seriously—

SLAM!

The door cracked against the wall and Keith stomped out, hands buried in his pockets and glare piercing the floor, challenging Lance to say a word.

Well when had Lance ever refused a challenge?

“Dude, what did the door ever do to you?” He snorted, finally leaning back to take in his friend’s new outfit.

Standard black jeans and his usual boots, but a new white t-shirt had replaced his usual grey one, and a soft pink jacket reminiscent of that varsity one his sister Rachel had brought home from volleyball after her first year in college. It contrasted nicely with his black hair, both making the other pop against the white-shirt, and Lance was trying to re-evaluate his assessment of Keith’s fashion taste but his heart was too busy running around in circles screaming things like HE’S TOO CUTE and IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THAT PRETTY and AAAAAAAA which was really not helpful!

Then Keith finally met his eyes, and all sound drained from the room, including his own heart’s screaming. He had never seen Keith look at him with such……fear. The last time he had seen that expression was……oh wait…the color……dios mio.

“Keith, I am confiscating your other jacket. You are never allowed in that cropped monstrosity again now that I know you have actual taste!”

“H-hey!” Spluttered Keith indignantly, but that was about all he could manage when Lance was wearing a sleeveless blue hoodie because when had he become muscular?

Lance snorted then, yanking Keith back to reality and greeting him with a pearly smile.

“Now you just have to learn how to walk right and you could be a fashion model! Here, allow me to impart my wisdom upon you!”

Lance strutted down the thin hallway and twirled to look back at Keith, his tan jeans catching the light and boots clicking against the floor as he struck a pose, and Keith hid his face in his hands with a groan. Yep, he was definitely still the Red Paladin if the heat coming off his cheeks was any indication.

“I know, I leave them all speechless!” Teased Lance, sending a few finger guns at his fellow paladin. “Now it’s your turn, Team Leader!”

“Lance, no.”

“Keith, yes! Come on, it’s fun!” Insisted Lance, shoving Keith a little further down the hall and folding his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow and studied Keith expectantly, and after a brief staredown, Keith gave in with a hefty sigh.

“If I’m not good, you can’t make me do it again.”

“Fair enough,” said Lance with a shrug, and Keith took a long, deep breath.

He tried to copy Lance, he really did, but there was no way he was crossing his feet in front of the other (a wide stance was much better for balance) and he was not just going to leave his hands hanging uselessly by his side (they were jammed in his pocket already in fists, like any sane person) and why would he do that hair flip thing when his hair was going to fall back to the exact same place in three ticks………ok, so maybe he didn’t try that hard to copy Lance, but he did his best! He cocked his chin up at the end and actually met Lance’s ocean-blue eyes instead of folding his arms and scowling off to the side like he had intended! And Lance hadn’t laughed at him, so that was a success!

Why had Lance done that to himself? Keith looked drop-dead gorgeous as was, what exactly had he been thinking asking him to look even better and what exactly was that breathing thing again and how did it work?

“Neat!” He squeaked, and no his cheeks were most certainly not red, thank you very much! “Let’s call that a success! Ready for the next one?”

“I’m not doing that runway walk each time.”

“We’ll see~”

“Lance, I swear—!”

“Phew, feels like it’s been forever since I had a proper shopping trip!” Commented Lance, strewn over the chair made out of blue vines and sipping his kjuvon (neither of them had a clue what that was, but Hunk and Pidge’s Deathtrometer had deemed it edible, so, as Lance put it, yolo).

“I’m pretty sure my last one was when I was twelve,” agreed Keith with a groan, though a slight smile was playing on his lips. “I’m surprised we made it out with only two bags; thought you’d be the kind of guy to buy out the store.”

“We only have so much gac, you know!” Replied Lance with a snort, but something rippled strangely across his face like a dolphin underwater. “I can keep a budget quite well!”

“Yeah, you even managed to get us a meal,” admitted Keith, sipping his xchevu, which tasted like a mix between spicy cinnamon and roasted apples kind of? Not really?

Lance smirked, letting his cup rest on the table and studying the hanging flora, the prickly and sweet-smelling leaves growing out of the walls, the waterfall coming out of a tree in the middle of the cafe. It smelled faintly of honey somehow.

“Not a bad view, either.”

Keith inhaled sharply, gazing at the boy sitting across from him. Caramel skin shining against eyes brighter than the waterfall beside him, softened by the white-and-blue sleeveless hoodie they had just bought, and head turned just enough to reveal the gold star earring he had received as a gift from the last diplomatic meeting. He was smiling softly, the air itself shimmering around him, and Keith let himself relax back against the pink jacket-covered chair behind him.

“Yeah, no complaints here.”

By the time Keith and Lance finally flopped down under a large tree in front of the department store, they had somehow wound their way through a kitchenware store (“Did you just buy Hunk an alien cooking pot, Lance?”), an appliances shop (“Keith, I swear, if you get Pidge a potentially enchanted screwdriver—”), a music store (“I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU!”), a book shop (“You cannot pull out the puppy dog eyes, you’re supposed to be part cat!”), and an arcade (“Lance, this game is literally made for someone with six arms, you can’t—how are you winning?!”) with frequent dips into cafes, and somehow they still had gac left.

“Lance, are you swiping money as we go or something?”

“Hey! I just know how to score a sweet bargain!”

Actually, that was true. Lance had negotiated one of Keith’s books down to half price, even though it was apparently “incredibly rare” or some other fancy title with a ripped cover. He had sweet-talked a few free sodas for them out of the last cafe, and even bargained ten gac off this one barrette he was strangely insistent about buying but not wearing.

“No one can resist the Loverboy!” Declared Lance, throwing back his head with a laugh. “Should we try heading back to the Lions? They might be ready to let us in now.”

“Yeah, we’ve only got half a varga left,” agreed Keith, rising with a yawn from the bench and stretching his arms high over his head.

Soft music filtered in from the courtyard, and Lance cocked his head, eyebrows quirking and lips twitching. Then he and Keith turned to each other and burst into simultaneous laughter.

“How does Taylor Swift exist even in space?”

“Who knows?” Replied Lance with a snort.

He reached down to pick up one of the bags, but his hand froze halfway between the straps. “Wait, Keith, you speak Spanish?”

Keith raised an eyebrow, folding his arms and preparing to reply that obviously he didn’t, but the sign on a nearby tree attracted his gaze.

BRINGING TOGETHER ALIEN CULTURES SINCE 17, THE ASVEKI MINERALS IN OUR AIR TRANSLATE ALL WORDS AUTOMATICALLY TO THE LISTENER’S NATIVE LANGUAGE.

“Keith? You alive there, bud?”

“Oh, sorry. No, I don’t speak Spanish, the air is apparently some sort of translator,” explained Keith, wincing at the way Lance’s face fell.

Of course, though. Lance had mentioned during one of the team bonding exercises that he spoke Spanish at home, and might accidentally slip into his first tongue from time to time. To have something like that torn from him…

“Dance with me,” ordered Keith, standing abruptly and seizing Lance’s still free hand, ignoring the confused splutters accompanying his actions. “It’s Spanish to you, right? Take advantage of that.”

Lance stared, wide eyes deeper than the space surrounding them and his silence louder than Keith’s thundering heart. Then, slowly, he smiled. He took Keith’s hand properly and joined the other couples swinging across the pavilion.

“Today was a fairytale,

You’ve got a smile that takes me to another planet,

Every move you make, everything you say is right,” whispered Keith, his pink jacket flaring out as Lance twirled him with a broad smile.

“Todo lo que puedo decir es que esto se hace mucho mas claro,
Nadia tenia sentido hasta el momento en el que vi tu rostro,” sang Lance, barely able to keep his laughter in because he could speak Spanish to Keith right now and he would understand. “Hoy fue un cuento de hadas. El tiempo se hace lento cuando estas cerca—”

Keith bit back a bark of laughter as he accidentally stomped on Lance’s toes, but based on the glare the Red Paladin threw his way, he hadn’t done a spectacular job at hiding it. He shrugged apologetically, looking Lance right in the eyes and hoping somehow that the boy would understand that he truly meant this part.

“Today was a fairytale,” he breathed.

Lance’s eyes went wide, and his hand relaxed on Keith’s shoulder, smile glowing brighter than the fairy lights flashing purple above.

“Hoy fue un cuento de hadas,” he echoed. Then they fell silent, letting the two languages wash over them as they twirled and stepped and flew in time to the rhythm combining their homes, pasts, hearts, and present. They never once let go.

“Keith, Lance, you two never cease to impress me,” commented Allura with a brightly terrifying smile. “I had no clue you could acquire maps of updated battle situations bearing the seal of the Blade of Marmora from within the Black Lion, or that the Red Lion could produce three shopping bags of clothing, books, and utensils from the nearest village. Quite a feat, truly.”

Right, Keith had forgotten that most fairy tales involved some sort of death. Whoops.

Chapter Text

Keith squirmed in his seat, simultaneously trying to control his tapping foot and to avoid another one of Allura’s death glares. He hated sitting still for more than five dobashes, and he especially hated these sorts of meetings. The fake smiles and careful wording, the skillful web of words weaving itself between the diplomats and leaving Keith feeling oddly clumsy even when he wasn’t doing anything, and most of all the stupid details. Allura had spent almost half a varga negotiating with the King on exactly how many shots had to be fired between Voltron and Galra warships before the Taepus should consider themselves obligated to join in; like anyone counted that in the middle of a battle!

“Of course not! Voltron’s not even a god!” Replied Lance, his laughter dissolving the last of the tension that had risen over trading conditions with the Galra. “You guys can keep worshiping your own religion, we’ve got nothing to do with that!”

Keith felt his knee still unconsciously beneath his fingers, and the corners of his mouth threatened to creep up into a smile. This was the one good thing about coming to these kinds of meetings. If Keith was a clumsy buffalo in this room, then Lance was an ice skater dancing atop the web his fellow diplomats were weaving. He leapt from one string to another, arched gracefully beneath a fragile line, and twirled to the heart of the matter like he was born to do this. It was beautiful to watch.

“Well then, I believe that wraps up any concerns we have,” stated the Queen, glancing briefly to her husband to avoid steamrolling any other objections.

“Then we are both satisfied,” replied Allura, rising and extending a hand to the substantially taller alien.

The Queen accepted warmly, and the King relaxed back into his seat with a hefty sigh of relief. Lance chuckled and reached across the table to shake his hand, both sets of eyes flashing with pride in their respective head diplomats.

“As a token of our friendship, please enjoy this light show we have prepared. It has been passed down our royal family for generations, and I am sure you shall find it most magnificent,” promised the Queen, gesturing her son and daughter forwards.

Pidge and Hunk immediately perked up from where they had been half-asleep, and Allura sat down with nothing but pleasure painted across her face. Keith debated whether he should be excited about the potentially cool show or annoyed that this was taking even more time. Lance kicked him under the table as if he had just read his mind, and Keith made an effort to plaster a smile across his face for his teammates’ sakes. His eyes darted to Lance, trying to mimic the way the taller boy held himself right then. His armor was shining, his back straight, and a smile stretched out on his lips; the picture of a perfect paladin. So why was Keith’s blood squirming uncomfortably against his skin?

“Please enjoy; it is the cumulation of several generations’ work,” stated the Queen, jerking Keith’s attention off of his companion momentarily.

She was cradling a small orb of light in her palms, rippling and pulsing with colors Keith didn’t have a name for, though her children held distinctly green and purple spheres.

Lance straightened just slightly.

Then the entire room was ablaze, nearly blinding Keith as shards of purple arced through a vast expanse of flashing light. Green flecks blinked their way through his vision, and orange lightning crackled a few inches from Keith’s nose. His eyes were slowly adjusting, tendrils of pink flickering by as the ground beneath him lit up in a vibrant blue. Patches of yellow glowed softly, and the air around him took on a darker hue, closer to black than anything else. He didn’t mind. It just made the red, curling spires of light shine all the brighter as they rose from the ground, and Keith felt something inside him expand, almost as if he was glowing too.

It was too beautiful for words.

Abruptly, the room re-appeared around him, the flecks of color vanishing in favor of the painted tile table in front of them, depicting a timeless battle against the perpetual thunderstorms of the planet. Keith blinked once, twice, rapidly clearing his eyes of the glorious fortress of light he had just seen, and caught his stuttered breathing.

“That was magnificent, Queen Vaiyan,” breathed Allura, her eyes still dancing with red light, and a genuine smile curving across her lips. “Thank you very much!”

“Voltron is an important ally, you deserve nothing else,” replied the Queen, green lips quirking up at the already-curved edges. “I see your Red Paladin greatly enjoyed the show.”

Lance wiped tears from his eyes dramatically, though his voice was soft as he replied.

“It was a work of art, Queen Vaiyan; one of the most beautiful things I could imagine!”

The Queen chuckled at his praise, rising to bow slowly to Allura. The team jerked to their feet, the King and Lance bowed to one another, and Keith nearly vibrated out of his armor when Allura accepted an invitation to some Grand Ball in the evening. He just wanted to attack the simulators, why was everyone conspiring to keep him out of the training room?

“We shall see you in one varga then,” promised the Queen, escorting her husband and children from the room with a gentle smile at the team.

The tick the door closed, Allura let out a long, concentrated exhale, shoulders slowly relaxing from pure bricks into wooden planks. Lance placed a hand lightly against her back, and the two exchanged radiant smiles as if to say we did it!

“V vedal fxd,” whispered Lance, just quiet enough that Keith only heard because he was right next to the two of them.

“Incondicionalmente,” Allura replied immediately, the last of the tension slipping from her shoulders like water from a sieve.

Keith dropped his eyes.

“We must get ready for the ball tonight,” declared Allura, lifting her chin and turning to the team with a bright smile. “The Taepus consider dancing a sacred art, so please be sure to actually engage at least once. Lance, you already know the protocol, could you help Hunk and Keith get ready? Pidge, I have a dress that I believe would fit you!”

“Allura, no frills!” Warned Pidge, scampering after the Princess as she dashed excitedly to her room.

“Oh man!” Snorted Lance. “Allura’s been waiting for this for forever!”

“Poor Pidge,” agreed Hunk, and Keith just smirked.

“Alright then!”

Lance clapped his hands together, an evil grin spreading across his face. “Let’s get you two styling!”

“Lance, if you give me a cape, I swear—!” Shouted Hunk, barreling after the already cackling Lance.

Keith just laughed, racing after the two and trying to stifle the strange pulsing still in his blood.

“And now you’re fit to capture alien hearts everywhere!” Cheered Lance, tossing a rose at Hunk as the taller boy studied himself in a mirror and Keith remained flopped on a chair behind them both.

“Well, you didn’t give me a full-length cape, at least,” mumbled Hunk as though he weren’t smiling ear-to-ear.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Pidge,” snorted Lance. “It’s a celebration Hunk, and you look killer!”

“Thanks, Lance,” finally replied Hunk, tugging on the collar with a growingly warm smile. “I really do like it.”

Keith, as a matter of fact, agreed with Lance on this one. Hunk was sporting a pair of loose golden pants with an orange, beaded jacket buttoned down the middle, and his bangs were brushed out of his face. Soft white shoes with just a few sequins had replaced his usual boots, and Keith was starting to wonder if maybe Lance was secretly the taller between the two teens.

“You look great, Hunk,” added Keith, standing and patting the Yellow Paladin’s shoulder with a warm smile that was becoming more natural each passing day.

Lance jolted at Keith’s words, apparently coming out of a daze, and plastered a wide smile across his face quickly.

“You bet he does! And now it’s your turn, Keith!”

“In that case, I’m just going to go check some engine stuff with Yello—” Started Hunk, inching towards the room with a smirk curling up his face.

“Hunk, if you get engine grease on that outfit, I will sew words on all your shirts that I promise you don’t want there!” Warned Lance, and Hunk raised his hands in amused surrender.

“Oh the terror,” he replied teasingly, scurrying from the room and down the hallway while Lance made a face after him.

There was a long silence then. The only sounds were the faint croaking of the birds outside, the squeals and distant protests of Allura and Pidge, and the ever-present hum that permeated the Castle whenever a cryo-chamber was running. Keith tried not to dwell on that last part too much.

“So, should I start looking through outfits?” He suggested.

Lance jumped, spinning to look at Keith as if he had forgotten the shorter teen was there, and this time, Keith got a close-up look at how the Red Paladin’s smile stopped just short of his eyes.

“Uh, yeah!”

“Lance?”

“Dude, go for it! You know your taste!”

“Lance, are you okay?”

The words came out softer than he had intended, like a newly-lit fire on the first day of winter, but Keith didn’t take them back. He watched them hover in the air, staring straight at Lance, deep violet eyes searching for permission. Permission to see even a little further beyond his friend’s smile.

Lance’s mouth parted, blue eyes wide and a shade darker than usual, and his hands hung motionless in the air they usually lit up with their waving and bouncing around. His lips trembled. His shoulders locked so tightly they had to be throbbing, and his heels pressed into the ground as if trying to anchor him, to keep him from toppling to the ground.

“I—uh, yeah. I’m good. Little headache, you know?” Replied Lance, rubbing the back of his neck and biting at his lower lip.

Probably to keep it from trembling.

“Lance,” snapped Keith, cringing as his companion winced, “you know I can tell you’re lying, right? What’s going on?”

Lance stared. All sound in the room melted away, and Keith realized for the first time that his own breathing was automatically synced up with Lance’s. It was as if the world around them had stopped spinning for a dobash, giving them a moment just to themselves. Slowly, each step cautious and soundless, Lance made his way over to Keith. Their eyes never broke contact.

Then Lance practically fell into the seat beside Keith, dropping his head into his hands and giving in.

“Migraine,” he whispered. “It’s…it hurts. A lot.”

“Did the Queen’s light show set it off?” Whispered Keith, glancing around the room for a light switch. “Too much at once?”

“No,” muttered Lance, head still buried in his hands. “Just made it worse. I’ve had a headache since I woke up, figured out it was a migraine around lunch.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Hissed Keith, eyes spitting fire as he dashed for the tiny panel on the wall, sliding the lights down to zero and thanking every celestial power that Kolivan had taught him how to access his nighttime vision. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?! We wouldn’t have made you come if we knew your head was trying to implode!”

“Allura needed the support!” Shot back Lance, even though he hadn’t moved an inch from his original position. “She’s been really stressed lately!”

Keith growled and stalked back to his companion, wrenching Lance’s hands from his eyes so he would stop applying extra pressure to his skull, and holding onto his wrists loosely. Lance’s trembling rippled up into Keith’s fingers.

“Lance,” he exhaled weakly, all his anger draining in favor of concern, “you’ve been stressed too. Why aren’t you asking for support?”

“I can’t just—!” Lance’s words were cut off as a flash of lightning lit up the world outside and sent pain dancing across his face.

Keith yanked the curtains shut so abruptly they nearly tore, and Lance dropped his head back into his hands with a soft moan. Keith lingered at the drapes, fingers fiddling with the fabric as memories tripped through his mind, turning his stomach into a nest of wriggling snakes.

“Lance,” he whispered, throat too dry to allow anything else. “When Hunk thanked you before…you looked like someone slapped you. Why?”

Lance was silent. He curled a little further into himself, and Keith had to bite his tongue to keep from peppering the boy with more questions. He could do that later; right now, he had to make sure Lance wasn’t in absolute agony. “Okay, just hold on. I’ll ask Coran if we have any medicine and see if Allura can get you out of the ball—”

“No!” Cut off Lance, jolting to his feet and immediately wincing. “No. Diplomats have to attend any celebration in their honor. Trying to explain why I’m not there…one wrong word could start a diplomatic crisis. I can’t do that.”

Keith just barely resisted the urge to tear all his hair out, growling low in his throat and pressing two fingers against his forehead.

“Great! Just! Great! Okay, maybe Coran has some sort of pain relief medicine? It’s worth asking, anyway,” he huffed, folding his arms and scowling.

“Keith, I’ll be fine. Let’s get an outfit for you,” insisted Lance softly, gesturing to the dresser as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light around them. “My migraines aren’t as bad as most people’s, it’ll be gone in a little bit.”

“Lance, it’s still a migraine!” Shot back Keith, blocking Lance from reaching into the closet. “Why aren’t you letting us help you?!”

“Because I’m not some burden that everyone has to coddle!” Erupted Lance, glittering blue eyes jerking up to lock with Keith’s and hands curling into fists. “I’m done with dragging down the team and not being able to contribute anything and being the weak link! I’m trying to be more than that; more than the annoying one! I can’t let a little migraine slow me dow—!”

A crack of thunder sent Lance reeling, clutching his temples as he sank back into his chair and transforming his words into an agonized moan. Keith stood, feet glued to the ground. His throat was lined with concrete, his breaths scraping raggedly past, and heart pounding louder than any thought he could muster. Except for one.

Lance didn’t think he was good enough. He didn’t think he was enough. Lance didn’t think he was enough, that he was good enough—

“You have got to be kidding me,” he whispered, raising his chin just enough to meet Lance’s exhausted eyes and gulping at the too-thin air in the room. “Look, I don’t know what happened when I was gone, but…”

His fingers curled, too weak to make fists as he yanked the words, the true ones he was always afraid to say, the ones he was sure would scare people off, up to the surface and out into the gulf between him and the boy he would gladly cross any galaxy for. “…But you’re enough, Lance. You always have been. ”

Lance snorted—outright snorted—at that.

“Sure,” he mumbled, massaging his forehead and letting his eyes slide closed. “That’s why Shi—the clone hated me so much. Because I’m good enough. He was fine with Pidge and Hunk and Allura; Keith, I was the only one he constantly tried to tear down. Why, if I was doing enough?”

Keith’s stomach twisted and wrapped around itself as if trying to strangle him, all his instincts screaming at him to get out. He never understood social situations, he always made things worse, and he had never seen Lance look so tired…

“I attack the greatest threat first,” blurted out Keith. “When I’m fighting. I go for the one that’s…that’s the most scary.”

Lance looked up at Keith incredulously, but he wasn’t interrupting, so Keith took that as encouragement to keep going. “Diplomacy. He was scared of that. Pidge and Hunk weren’t going to say anything, Allura and Coran were too forceful; you were different, Lance.”

Keith smiled as he said that, running a hand over his arm as he remembered his own encounter with Lance’s persuasion. “He was scared you’d convince him. So he tried to keep you from talking.”

Keith stepped forwards, reaching out hesitantly to lay a hand on Lance’s shoulder like the taller boy had done so long ago when he was moments from cracking to pieces. Lance stared up at him, blue eyes shimmering in the dark room, and Keith felt his throat contract. One more step, that would be all it would take. If it were anyone else, Keith wouldn’t have taken the plunge right then. But this was Lance. Lance with his sunshine laugh and infectious smile and fierce loyalty and deep kindness, who pulled the team together when it was tearing itself apart, and who was looking at him like he was the entire world right then. So he took that final step. “You were the clone’s greatest fear. Guess he didn’t know how scared he should be, huh?”

Lance shuddered beneath his touch and fell forwards, forehead resting on Keith’s stomach and arms winding around his waist. He nestled in, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and Keith released a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The air itself seemed to relax. Keith kept one of his hands on Lance’s shoulder and begun carding the other one through his short, brown locks like Lance had done when he had been outed. Lance shook like a leaf in a windstorm.

Keith curled around him tightly and held on for all he was worth. “Don’t forget this one, Sharpshooter.”

Chapter Text

“This will only last one varga,” warned Allura, perched on the bed next to Keith as Lance rested behind them, a cold towel on his forehead. “It will numb him to the effects, but it will not stop them from accumulating. Once the medicine wears off, his body will register all the pain immediately. It can be quite…overwhelming.”

“You’re sure we can’t just explain that he’s sick?” Grumped Keith, his eyes lingering on the twisted forehead of their Red Paladin.

Allura’s crystalline eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head slowly.

“If I could, believe me Keith, I would do anything to let him rest right now, but a diplomatic crisis would just put his life in danger,” she whispered, resting her cool hand on Lance’s cheek. “I wish I had noticed.”

Keith glanced down, shoulders easing slightly when he realized that Lance’s grip on his hand was no longer a vice.

“He didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

“And I do not want to make things harder for him!” She snapped, wincing as Lance stirred under her, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “I am sorry. To me, Lance is……”

Keith tightened his grip on Lance’s hand without meaning to, his throat constricting and eyes burning.

“I get it,” he whispered.

Allura let out a quiet bark of laughter, smoothing Lance’s hair out of his face as she shook her head slowly.

“I highly doubt that, Keith. The way I feel about Lance—”

“It’s the same!” Interrupted Keith sharply, dropping Lance’s hand and facing her head-on. “It is the same, Allura. I…I feel that way about him too.”

Allura stared, her eyes painfully wide and filled with that same ocean hue that he so dearly loved in Lance’s irises. To him, Lance was…he was impossible to explain, and Keith was too scared to even try and put his feelings into words. Because the moment he did, whatever they had would evaporate. He understood that so clearly.

“Keith,” whispered Allura, reaching out almost tentatively towards the Black Paladin.

Keith didn’t jerk away, and her featherlight touch settled on his shoulder like a breeze of fresh air after a long day. Her eyes were searching and so gentle they tore at Keith’s breath in his chest, and she pursed her lips lightly. “Keith, you do know that it is okay, right?”

“What?”

Allura’s fingers folded over his shoulder, a sweet smile spreading over her face, and in that instant, she was no Princess of Altea or Blue Paladin. She was Allura. She was the girl who had lost her entire planet, her parents, almost everyone that she had ever loved once before. She was the one who had made a second family in her paladins, surrounding herself with laughter and warm smiles and brave hands, people who would stand by her no matter what. She was the one who flew beside Lance for hours on diplomatic missions, who laughed at his stupid jokes and flirtations, and who spoke Altean and Spanish with him. She was the girl who would hug Lance for seemingly no reason sometimes, the one who wore the sparkly pink barrette Lance had bought from the store, the one that had been there while Lance struggled against Clone Shiro. She was their Allura, and if there was anyone Keith thought deserved Lance, it was her. Allura was his friend, after all.

Allura tightened her grip on his shoulder, pulling Keith back to the present as her bright eyes softened lovingly.

“It is okay for you to like Lance.”

It was like someone had pulled a warm blanket over his shoulders and trapped him in a hug. His feelings surged forwards, rolling over the word “like” and consuming it in a flash of light, stealing all the breath from Keith’s body and nearly sending him into a panic. No no no, they could not know how he felt, not about his teammate, not about his right hand man, not about—

“It is okay,” insisted Allura, her hand shifting to cradle his cheek reassuringly. “Our lives are not defined by this war, nor should they be.”

She dropped her eyes for a moment, but they shone like the stars when she raised them again. “Please, give yourself the space to fall in love.”

Keith gulped, the word “like” still settling in his stomach, drowned by the flood of affection, of protectiveness, of amusement, of overwhelming admiration, of care, of dedication, of the sheer desire to see Lance smile that always swamped Keith whenever Lance walked into the room.

“And that was indeed one of your Earthen ‘puns’ that Lance taught me,” added Allura gravely, drawing herself up with exaggerated primness and jerking a laugh from Keith without his consent.

Allura beamed at that, patting Lance’s shoulder gently and setting the butterfly-shaped pill in Keith’s palm. Then she folded his fingers over it and squeezed his fist for a long tick. “You will look after him for me?”

Keith felt his heart trip quietly in its ribcage. Allura never looked away.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to him,” promised Keith softly.

“I leave it to you, then.”

Allura stood, sweeping out of the room with a final, gentle look at Lance, and closing the door behind her as softly as she could. Keith waited until her footsteps had fully faded before giving a long, exhausted sigh and shaking Lance’s shoulder more roughly than was really necessary.

“Lance, wake up. Allura got medicine for you, and we both need to get changed. Come on, wake up.”

Lance stirred under his touch, rising groggily and rubbing at his eyes as the cold towel flopped off his forehead. Keith swallowed down Allura’s words and set them to the side; he could handle those later. Right now, Lance took priority.

“Keith…?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Here, medicine.”

Lance tossed the pill into his mouth and dry swallowed, but Keith shoved a pouch of nutrient water into his hands anyway and glared until he drank. “Allura and I picked out clothing; we have about fifteen dobashes to get ready.”

“Are you mad?” Grumbled Lance, rubbing his forehead sleepily, and Keith scowled even as he squeezed Lance’s hand.

“Should I not be?”

Lance yawned and let Keith help him off the bed, picking up the red sleeveless loose tunic and sequined, darker leggings.

“Nah, I’d feel the same way.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Keith yanked on a black robe that fell to his ankles with slits up the sides to reveal loose, red pants. Gold stitching drew stories across the empty fabric that Keith would never understand, and Lance threw a matching scarf at him with a stern look. Grumbling, Keith adjusted it around his neck, and slid into simple black sandals.

“Hold still,” instructed Lance then, taking a brush to Keith’s hair before he could even think to protest. “You’ll thank me later.”

Two dobashes later, Keith was sporting a french braid and a decidedly sunset face as he studied Lance.

The boy had come alive the tick the medicine kicked in and his head had become less of a 7.0 on the Richter scale. He had added a see-through silk capelet to his outfit, and switched the simple shoes to blue wedges that placed him a good head taller than Keith now. His sleeveless tunic clung to his every move, and fell far shorter than Keith’s, coming up just shy of his sharp knees and lined with a blue ribbon. His leggings were a darker red, reminding Keith of that burgundy hat Adam had knit for Shiro the winter before he was lost in space, and when Lance twirled to face Keith, the light turned his face a faintly glowing red.

“N-nice! You look! Nice!” He stammered, and Keith’s face was honestly warm enough right then to be an active volcano.

How was he supposed to handle these feelings later when Lance kept doing this?!

“Uh, yeah. Same to you.”

Sometimes, Keith really wanted to kick himself.

“Great! I mean, thanks!” Replied Lance, rubbing the back of his neck, and wincing as the thunder roared outside.

Keith frowned, checking the clock hanging on the nearby wall and trying to run a few calculations quickly in his head.

“That medicine will last a varga,” he reminded the teen, bracing his pounding heart and taking Lance’s hand in his own. “When it starts to wear off, get me or Allura. I’ll be looking for a reason to escape anyway.”

Lance snorted, squeezing Keith’s hand and leading him towards the door with his shoulders raised and chin held slightly higher than usual.

“Well then, I’ll just have to come to our favorite Captain Mullet’s rescue,” he replied, turning with a radiant grin as he opened the door and pulled Keith out into the sunlight, hand cradled warmly—safely—in Keith’s grasp.

Keith thought he did a remarkably good job, all things considered. It wasn’t that he normally hated parties or anything; far from it, he soaked up the thrumming energy they always seemed to create like a sponge in water. Eventually, though, the music would become too loud, the lights would be too bright, and the energy that had recharged him would kick into overload. He always retreated then, hiding back behind some pillar with a glass of water and letting the sensations wear themselves out, which often took until the party was over. That usually was after half a varga.

This time, though, Keith held out an extra fifteen dobashes. He spun around with Pidge for the first couple of rounds while Lance fulfilled his diplomatic responsibilities, gliding across the floor with the Prince and Princess. Keith got circles danced around him by Hunk, which nearly sent both of them into fits of laughter, while Lance gracefully twirled with the Queen and King. Finally, though, Lance’s face lit up as he took Allura’s hand, and Keith took a break at the food station to watch the two dance.

They were both clearly used to this, their hands fitting together like puzzle pieces and feet sweeping around one another as if linked. Allura was talking quietly, and Lance kept the twirl slow so he wouldn’t miss what she was saying. Keith smiled, ignoring the stabbing pain in his gut as he leaned against the table, and took a long, deep breath. It was okay. This was for the best. Matt and Coran were doing some version of the chicken dance except dorkier (somehow), and Pidge was peppering a tall Taegu with questions about her long braids, which changed color every four ticks or so. Allura was lifting Lance and twirling him across the floor, both faces alight with laughter, and Hunk was shooting ideas back and forth with the chef. This was how it was supposed to be. The party lights pulsing softly overhead, the food settling warmly in Keith’s stomach, and—Lance’s sparkling blue eyes landed on him. Immediately, it was like a switch was flipped and the world seemed to settle into peace around Keith. No, whispered a gentle voice in his head that sounded almost like Red had used to, this is how it should be.

Then the music changed, becoming sharper and livelier, and Keith couldn’t miss the way Lance flinched ever so slightly. Allura immediately steadied him, and Keith dropped his plate in his rush towards their Red Paladin. Another alien narrowly caught it, sending a sharp glare after Keith, but he couldn’t care right then.

“—just surprised me, I’m fine, I promise,” Lance was whispering as Keith ran up to join the two paladins.

“Lance, if the pain is pushing through the medicine, you must rest,” hissed Allura. “A pain that strong will still cause other side effects that we cannot prevent!”

“I’m okay, I promise!”

“Lance,” said Keith abruptly, catching the darker wrist in his own. “I need you over here.”

“Coming,” replied Lance immediately, giving Allura’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before retreating with Keith towards the food table.

The dance floor opened up again, but Keith didn’t notice as he pressed a cold glass of sparkling jauniberry juice into Lance’s hand and kept his free palm wrapped snugly around Lance’s wrist.

“I thought you needed something?” Teased Lance, though he drained the glass in one go and leaned against the table ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I need you to take a break!” Snapped Keith, passing him another glass. “Why are you still pushing yourself?”

“I’m not!” Insisted Lance, taking a long sip of juice. “That music surprised me! We went from ultra slow~ soothing rainy day lullaby~ to IT’S JIG TIME KIDDIES!”

Keith snorted, and Lance let out a full laugh, turning a warm smile on his companion. “Don’t worry, if it starts to hurt, I’ll let you know. We’ve still got half a varga though, want to dance when this song ends?”

“I’ll step on your feet again.”

“Why do you think I switched to wedges, my man?” Replied Lance with a smirk, nudging Keith’s shoulder with his own and almost sending his heart straight through the ceiling. It is okay for you—

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” retorted Keith, grinning as Lance handed him a glass of the sparkling jauniberry. “Thanks.”

“It’s super sweet,” warned Lance, finishing the last of his second glass and letting out a long exhale. “Nice and refreshing.”

“Probably made to keep people on the dance floor as long as possible before they pass out,” surmised Keith, and Lance shoved his shoulder with a laugh that seemed to condense all three months of summer down into three ticks.

Keith downed his drink to hide the bright red flush suffusing his cheeks and to drown out the thundering pattern of his heart. Stupid brain, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this right now! And no, he absolutely never wrote poetry in middle school, shut up!

“Yes, of course!” Agreed Lance, blissfully ignorant to his companion’s flaming embarrassment as he snickered. “And all the food is made to keep your moves sharp so you cannot disgrace your home planet!”

“I mean, when our home planet’s dancing looks like that…”

Matt had convinced Pidge and Coran to join him in dabbing their way across the dance floor, and Allura looked like she would be thrilled if someone passed her a bowl of punch to fling at them right then.

“How dare! The dab is the peak of modern culture!” Cried Lance, casting a hand across his chest in deep betrayal.

Keith gave him the most deadpan stare he thought he had ever been able to muster. Lance continued to look affronted for all of two ticks before dissolving into laughter, and Keith was content to join him, both their glasses safe on the counter. This was nice. He could work with this. Please give yourself the space to fall—

“Attention, please!” Announced the Queen, holding up her talons for silence. “In honor of our new alliance with Voltron, and with the help of their advisor, the Royal Family has successfully reorganized the full Light Show of the Ancients!”

A cheer rippled through the crowd, Pidge and Matt crowed with delight, Hunk let out a resounding whoop, and Coran fingered his mustache proudly.

“This is the original show that was put on for our very first allies; it is our most sacred ritual. Paladins of Voltron, please enjoy.”

Allura spun, her eyes flashing desperately, but Keith barely had time to seize Lance’s hand before the entire room turned pure white. Lance’s fingers turned into a death grip around his palm.

Colors flashed by, brighter than before, and swirling like they were in a tunnel lined with flashing rainbow stones. The sky was an even darker black than before, leaving the spiralling forests of purple to flash all the brighter. The floor beneath them was a bright blue, the vast fortresses a sunset red, and the mountains glowed a rich pink. Green lightning occasionally lit up the sky, and yellow plants rose around them, growing ever taller. Blinking fairy lights of orange danced through the air, and blazing white snow fell around them. A low hum filled their ears.

Neither paladin could speak, the lights sucking everything from within them, and the world slowed around them. Both tightened their hold on one another.

The world sped up. A howling wind tore past Lance and Keith, whipping the snowflakes around them into a bright flurry, the glowing yellow plants ripped from the ground to partake in the whirlwind in front of them. Keith squinted, and Lance clung to him like he was the only thing keeping them standing.

The wind shrieked.

Keith tightened his hold on Lance.

A single tear flew to join the tornado.

A soft squeeze pressed into Keith’s fingers.

The black sky darkened.

And the snowflakes twirled to a stop.

Keith grimaced, his fingers completely crushed by Lance’s grip (a favor he was sure he was returning) and squinted at the flashing sky above. The wind vanished as abruptly as it had started, but the snowflakes and uprooted golden blossoms hung suspended in the air.

I got you.

The one thought they were able to latch onto. Keith smiled until his cheeks pulsed and held Lance’s hand impossibly tighter.

The ballroom reappeared around them, leaving only the glowing words hovering above their heads. The snowflakes hardened, tightening as they floated up to the ceiling and melted into the tiles, leaving a faint shadow of their thoughts forever emblazoned on the domed roof.

“Lance?” Whispered Keith, turning to look at the taller boy beside him.

Two lines of tears were sliding down his face. His eyes were blank, his fingers still clutching Keith like a lifeline, and his breathing was slow and jolting. The snakes in Keith’s stomach began to writhe. “Lance?” He whispered, squeezing at his friend’s hand softly, as if trying to drag him through a blazing sky of stars back to solid ground. “Are you okay?”

“Can we go?”

It was barely more than a breath, and Keith’s heart seized. He reached up gingerly, brushing the tears from Lance’s face and cupping his cheek gently, trying to gauge his pulse.

“Yeah. We can go.”

Lance exhaled shakily.

“Thank you.”

Allura materialized beside them, pure terror painted across her face, and her eyes met Keith’s as if begging for the answer to some silent question. Keith pointed lamely towards the door, and Allura nodded immediately, squeezing Lance’s shoulder with shaking hands. Lance mustered a faint smile and a little salute in response as Keith guided them through the crowd.

“Does it hurt?” Keith murmured, running his thumb across Lance’s knuckles gently.

“Yes,” Lance whispered. “A lot.”

Keith winced, giving a slight wave to Pidge as he tugged Lance through the large, open doors and down a hallway almost brighter than the ballroom they had come from. Lance flinched behind him.

“Close your eyes.”

“I need to walk, Keith.”

Keith turned in response and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Lance stared at him for a long, long moment before giving a tired sigh and closing his eyes; he didn’t have the energy to argue.

Keith swept him off his feet, one arm beneath his knees and the other steady around his back, and started back towards the Castle of Lions right outside the palace. He had expected Lance to struggle at least a little, but the younger teen just wrapped both arms around Keith’s neck and let his head fall on his shoulder. And, as Lance settled into his arms, the word that had been plaguing Keith all night finally relaxed into his stomach.

“Keith?”

“Hmm.”

“Thank you.”

Keith smiled quietly, tightening his grip on Lance and lengthening his stride towards what he could only think of as safety right then. Lance’s eyes were drooping closed, the tension slipping from his face and leaving him completely vulnerable before Keith. He would not betray that trust.

“Anytime, Lance.”

It was okay for him to fall in love with Lance.

Chapter Text

Lance winced when he woke up, a dull ache forming a chain across his forehead and sliding down into the bridge of his nose. It was manageable though, not the blinding agony that had turned his veins to fire the night before. He was vaguely sure he had screamed, writhing and crying out as the world dissolved into hammers pounding on his skull and his vision gave out under the strain. He remembered…pressure? Something digging into the sides of his head (maybe his own fingers?) and a sharp throb beginning in his throat. His world was eclipsed by raw anguish. And just beyond those memories was something…cool pressed to his forehead, warmth running up and down his back, and soft murmurs slipping past the deafening roar inside his head. Everything after that was a blur.

Lance shuddered, snuggling a little further into the bed and relishing in the warmth curled around him like a large, soft cat. A soft hum filled the air, brushing aside the pain still squeezing Lance’s forehead, and drawing the weight off of his chest. A gentle pressure on the back of his head relaxed his shoulders, and he let out a long, slow exhale. It was okay. He was safe here.

“Lance?” Came a groggy whisper, soft with sleep and very close to Lance’s head, what the quizna— “You awake?”

Lance jerked back, eyes snapping open for the first time in what felt like forever, and the first thing he was met with were a pair of deep violet irises that seemed to span every galaxy they had saved, soft and beautiful against the pale light of the room. Keith.

That meant the arms around him were Keith’s and he was in a bed being cradled by Keith Kogane again and this time he really didn’t remember how he had gotten here other than blinding pain and quiznak what had just happened and wow, Keith’s eyes were even prettier when he first woke up—

“Lance? Are you okay?”

Keith shifted, reaching behind himself and pulling a bottle of bright green, fizzy liquid into view. “Hunk got you this,” he said, looping an arm behind Lance’s back and helping him sit up before pressing the cold glass into his hands. “How are you feeling?”

Lance eyed the bottle suspiciously, and decided he’d much rather answer Keith than drink it right then.

“I’m doing hot, same as always!” He joked, throwing a wink at Keith and shaking the drink to see if it combusted. “Even better now that I know you wake up with a mullet instead of styling it that way every morning!”

Keith met this with possibly the most unimpressed stare of all time, and flicked the bottle Lance was still messing with.

“Drink, then joke. Anyway, you were a mess last night; there’s no way you’re fully recovered.”

Lance sipped at the drink reluctantly, and his eyebrows shot up as a sweet tang filled his mouth instead of freezing corn dog water. He was definitely never doubting Hunk’s ability in the kitchen again.

“My head aches,” he admitted, swirling the drink before taking another swig. “But other than that, I feel better than I have in ages!”

“Yeah,” grumbled Keith. “Probably because you got more than five vargas of sleep.”

Lance winced, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he rested against the wall behind his bed.

“You knew about that?”

“The training logs mentioned you came in most nights. You already get back ridiculously late, what were you thinking?! You’re lucky you didn’t pass out!” Snapped Keith, leaning back against the wall next to Lance, probably so he could glower more forcefully at the Red Paladin.

Lance raised an eyebrow and took another long drink.

“Dude, I already explained last night about the whole ‘trying not to be a weak link’ thing! If my fighting slipped, I’d be screwed the tick we went back into battle!”

“Lance, I swear—!”

“Hey, I never said I was going to keep doing it!” Interrupted Lance, shrugging and nestling back against the wall with a sigh. “Look, Keith, I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have been pushing that hard; I just……didn’t want to let you guys down. I wanted you to rely on me again.”

Keith sucked in a breath sharply enough that Lance could hear, and scooted a little closer to the taller boy. Lance didn’t move away.

“You’re the right hand of Voltron,” pointed out Keith.

“That doesn’t mean I’m your right hand,” replied Lance, tilting his head back with a quiet thump. “Not unless I earn it.”

“……The clone?”

Lance hummed in acknowledgement and took another sip of the fizzy drink.

“I’m okay now, for the most part!” He said, some of the vigor popping back into his voice. “Sometimes I just slip back into old habits. You know, pretending I’m fine, going quiet, pushing too hard, that stuff. I have to remind myself that it’s okay now, he’s not here. I just…forget sometimes. Sorry.”

“Lance,” snapped Keith. “Stop apologizing about that, that’s not why I’m mad!”

He latched onto Lance’s shoulder, yanking him closer and sending droplets of fizzy water flying onto the sheets. “You didn’t ask for help! You tried to do everything yourself! And you got hurt! Why didn’t you just say something? Don’t you know we would have helped?”

Lance cut his eyes away from Keith’s piercing gaze, swallowing roughly as the older boy’s voice rose in pitch. “Did you think we would be fine with you sacrificing yourself for us? We care, you know! All of us! Pidge found migraine relief music, Hunk got caffeine, Allura brought fresh water, Matt got you a cold cloth for your head, Coran turned off the morning alarm, and I—I was here all night!”

His grip tightened around Lance’s shoulder, and his voice dropped low as if scared, as if the next words were too precious to be said aloud to the world. “You…when I was outed, you said we were a family. That family doesn’t run. Why are you running from us?”

Lance flinched at that, ducking his head despite Keith’s persistent squeeze of his shoulder. What was he supposed to say? That he was a brat who couldn’t take the fact that everyone had something more important to do on the ship than him? That, in the middle of a war, he had felt lonely and isolated because no one he cared about needed his help? They were doing their job; what right did he have to complain just because he was useless?

Lance scowled, shaking his head and gulping half of the remaining bottle in one go to try and drive those thoughts away. They weren’t true, he wasn’t weak, he could do things right. Allura had him as a co-diplomat, both Blue and Red had chosen him as their paladin, and Keith had told him to leave the math to Pidge—

“—nce! Lance!” Snapped Keith, startling the boy from his thoughts. “If you’re ignoring me, it’s not funny!”

“No!” Cried Lance with enough force that both boys jumped. “No, that’s not it! It’s just…do you remember what you said when you came back to the Black Lion?”

Keith cocked his head to the side, mouth twisting into a hook and drawing a soft giggle from Lance. “Guess not. You…you said ‘thank you.’”

Keith’s eyebrows crept up, and Lance swallowed the growing ball of nerves burning diamonds into his esophagus. It was pathetic. It was stupid. It sounded childish. But Keith wanted the truth, and this was all Lance had to offer.

“Yeah, I did…?”

“That was the first time in phoebs someone said that to me.”

Lance refused to look at Keith right then, his eyes locked on the green glass in front of him and lips suddenly parched as the words tumbled past them in a flood. “It all kinda hit me at once, you know? Pidge and Hunk were doing tech stuff and didn’t want me around to distract them, and Allura, Coran, and the clone were focused on the Lotor situation. I tried to get us to train as a team or bond with our Lions again, and it worked for a few days, you know? I got Pidge and Hunk to watch some movies with me, but Pidge kind of fell asleep, and Hunk ended up having to work a lot longer the next day. Everyone was too busy to even eat together, and I kept trying to make the mood a little lighter and get them to play games or talk or do anything besides work for even a little bit…but eventually, I started only seeing everyone to remind them to eat and drink and go to sleep. I spent time with Kaltenecker and the mice, I played video games a little, but mostly I started just…training. And it wasn’t so bad in the moment, you know? But when you thanked me…looking back kind of came as a sucker punch.”

Lance let out a hollow chuckle, finishing the last of the bottle and leaning it against the wall behind his bed. “Pretty dumb, huh? To not even realize I was lonely till later.”

Keith’s free hand shot to Lance’s opposite shoulder, latching onto the trembling teen and yanking him forwards into possibly one of the tightest hugs in history. Tentative fingers pressed to the back of Lance’s head, little circles of warmth soft against his hair, and arms wrapped around his neck like fire. Lance lay in limp surprise, eyes wide enough to contain any ocean and tension finally draining from his taut shoulders. Then he clung to Keith like his life depended on it.

“……You were left alone.”

“Not on purpose. Everyone was busy—”

“Pidge told me you suggested they follow me around with their work when I came back.”

Lance chuckled and buried his nose in Keith’s shoulder, relaxing incrementally into the hug.

“They wanted to hang out with you without ignoring Voltron; I had already thought of a strategy.”

Keith brushed his fingers through Lance’s hair, working gently through tangles as he began to rock their hug from side-to-side. Lance nearly laughed; Keith really hated being stationary, huh?

“It worked.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t lonely, thanks to you,” said Keith, pulling back and fixing Lance with a fierce glare. “I was glad they were there with me. I would have felt isolated otherwise.”

And when Keith smiled, his eyes warmed like a summer twilight and his lips curled into that soft, almost vulnerable smile that Lance had only seen twice before. “Thank you.”
Lance couldn’t breathe.

Keith just wrapped him in another hug. They didn’t move for a long, long time.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

“I swear, if you keep fiddling with that necklace, Wazir, I will throw you out of the airlock!” Snapped the pilot, spinning to scowl at his communications officer and freezing at the draconic stare he received in response.

“Stuff it,” snarled Adam, yanking the ice sample from the frozen moon and pointing it at him like a spear. “And do not call me by my last name.”

“Aww, you want to bond?”

“I want you to stop mispronouncing it,” spat Adam, stuffing the ice into a container and shoving it onto their cart. “That’s why I have an English name. Now get this freaking ice inside, I’m going scouting.”

The pilot groaned, hauling himself over to the cart like the gravity wasn’t substantially lighter. Adam ignored him, shifting all his weight into his toes and bracing his knees. Then he leapt, the gravity throwing him far from his grumpy pilot and sending him flying across the frozen wasteland of Kerberos.

Only then did he click his recorder on.

“Hi Keith, I know its been a while,” he said, trying to keep some sort of pep in his voice. “Sorry about that, Wilson is so uptight you could use him as a wrench and nothing else. He gets wound up over tiny things like how to organize the space peas, and then forgets to actually pilot the craft. If you were here, you’d have punched him out by now.”

Adam winced the moment the words were out of his mouth, remembering the last time Keith had punched someone in the face. Coming back and being greeted by Iverson with the news that the last piece of his family had not only been kicked out but also gone missing while he was away……well, Iverson had been given a sudden and very sharp reminder of how strong astronauts were. Also his office had been broken into and raided for information, particularly of a crash-landing what had been three months ago. That was revenge for calling Keith a worthless brat.

Adam clicked his tongue and popped a smile back into his words. Keith had loved listening to these logs; they were the only thing that made him smile for an hour after Adam had to tell him they’d found nothing out about Shiro. Allah, had it already been almost two years since he first went missing?

“Yeah, but the sky is crazy clear up here. You would not believe some of these stars,” breathed Adam, reaching up and trailing his fingers across the sprinkled glows. “I feel like I could touch them if I really tried. They look great on the ice, reminds me of those light crystals you showed me in your old shack that one time. And if you are living out there Keith, I swear to Allah I will never show you how to make a chocolate turtle cake. I keep telling you, rattlesnakes are actually dangerous, they are not just trying to make music!”

Adam exhaled a laugh at that one, and finally stopped bounding across the slippery surface. His boots hissed to a halt, sending a shimmering cloud of ice crystals into the atmosphere, and he stared out across the hills of frost and icicles. He checked his location monitor, scowling at the blinking brown dot and fingering the ring dangling from a chain around his neck. It was an old habit by now.

“Hey, Keith,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and steady as he slid down one of the cliffsides, eyes fixed on a trail of destroyed ice in the distance. “Remember what you used to tell Takashi and I whenever we got into a fight? Knock that off, soulmates can’t argue forever or something like that? You always said it so deadpan, like it was just a fact. Like there was no other possible option.”

Adam bent down, studying the marks in the ice as he spoke. They hadn’t been knocked down, the surface of the planet was curving upwards. Like the whole landscape had been sucked into the sky. Takashi’s shouting about aliens from the tape recording flashed through his head.

“I liked that. You were so confident about us, and you weren’t confident about anyone. I just wish I could prove you right. Because I’m standing right where Takashi probably was, and I’m not seeing any sort of magical fate connection arrow thing in flashing lights saying HE’S THAT WAY!” Joked Adam, ignoring the slightest crack in his voice.

He did not, however, ignore the resounding CRACK that immediately followed his words. Especially because it was accompanied by a giant blast of purple light that sent him hurtling back towards his ship.

“Lovely!” He snarled. “Keith, I’m going to have to finish this in a bit. Love you, kick Takashi for me if you find him, bye!”

Adam clicked the recorder off, stuffing it in his pocket and catapulting himself off the nearest pillar back towards his ship.

“Wilson!” He shouted, jerking his radio into position so he could properly deafen the sulking pilot. “We’re under attack, get ready to take off now! If I don’t get back in time, fly! Get back to Earth and warn them that there’s other life out here and it is more than a little hostile!”

“I know the protocol and I see the giant ship!”

“Then get ready to take off!” Snarled Adam, ricocheting off an ice bridge and darting a glance over his shoulder. “You guys aren’t giving any sign of preparation!”

“We just started, man!”

“Move. Faster,” spit out Adam, flicking his headset off and looking back again more carefully.

Not at the giant ray of purple light itself, he wasn’t particularly concerned by that (okay, maybe just the tiniest little bit, microscopic really—WAS IT GETTING CLOSER?!), but at the trail it was leaving behind it. Ice, curling upwards along a long stripe of blackness.

Adam swore the world melted away around him. He couldn’t breathe, time had slowed down and he knew, he knew that this was his chance, maybe his only chance. This was everything he had been working for.

When his moron first shot himself into space, Adam had taken Keith to live in his apartment. The two had always gotten along well, and peanut butter sandwiches with hot chocolate over math homework soon became a routine. They would take the bus together to the Garrison, and Keith would come to the office to drag Adam home after his school day had ended so he had time to ride around on the hoverbike. They walked through homework, Adam would always suggest three dinner options before Keith finally agreed to eat something, and the two would make that together. Movies with root beer floats if they were feeling celebratory, hoverbike rides around the desert if it was a bad day, and a long hug if the empty chair at the table was getting to either of them. They had been brought together because of Takashi, but Keith was his family. He really did feel like a little brother.

Then the storm came. The report came in that the flight had crashed. Adam remembered that more clearly than he did the day before yesterday, coming in after a long shift to find Keith staring at the television like it had sucked the life out of him. That lasted all of one dobash before Adam had to hold him back from destroying the thing, wrapping up every last struggling limb into a bundle in his arms and holding tightly as he whispered promises that they were going to be okay. And Keith broke. Shattered. Adam had never seen anyone cry that hard before, and he could only be grateful that Keith hadn’t noticed his own tears. They fell asleep on the couch, curled up together

The next day, neither of them went into the Garrison. They woke up late, stared at one another, and stood up in unison to get Fruit Loops for breakfast. They hadn’t eaten that since Takashi had left. It was only then that Adam actually looked through the news. Only then that he heard the explanation for the crash. Only then that he was able to look straight at Keith and tell him that it wasn’t time to mourn yet; that there was no way their moron had crashed that flight. The evidence they had was sketchy at best, and that he would do some more investigating, but they shouldn’t give up hope yet. Keith’s eyes remained dead until Adam found conclusive (absolutely illegally acquired) evidence though, and returned home with a long, warm hug. Keith actually fainted that time.

Adam had been…reluctant to leave Keith for any other space trips. He had actually been intending to refuse until Keith pointed out that Adam had a shot at finding Shiro up there. Also, he followed Adam around staring at him pointedly for the entire day until he finally agreed to take the mission. That kid had puppy dog eyes like you would not believe. After that, Adam took every flight offered to him and volunteered for more. He recorded tapes, cooked whenever he was home, and promised Keith that he wouldn’t fly if he was needed on the ground. Keith had looked bewildered until Adam explained that he meant he would stay if Keith needed him to. Keith had folded his arms and glared in response, muttering things about obviously needing Adam but wanting him to be happy and a bunch of other stuff Adam could not catch for the life of him. Allah, Keith, alright, I’ll go! Who knows? Graduate fast, and you might just be able to help me look!

This might be the one chance he had to find Keith and to find Takashi. They were his family, they were his reason for fighting, and maybe, if they hadn’t killed each other already, he might even find—

“Allah preserve me,” muttered Adam, whipping out his grappling hook and latching onto the nearest ice pillar.

He spun around the frozen structure, slamming his boots into its surface, and peered around at the beam of purple light approaching him. He took a long, deep breath, and flicked on the recorder again.

“Hi, Keith. So, you’ll be thrilled to know that aliens do exist you funky little conspiracy theorist. And, uh, I’m about to meet them. They’re probably hostile, so this has over a 50% chance of ending in painful death. So, uh…I hope you manage to find this. Just want you to know that you and Takashi are the best things that ever happened to me. And yes, you do put the ice cream in before the root beer, you heathen!”

Adam gulped as the beam came closer. He ripped the grappling hook out of the ice and huddled behind the chunk, trying to steady his breathing as the ship roared to life behind him.

“Anyway, chances of death are increasing to about 70%, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to hear this part anyway because of giant chunks of icy death, but in case you can, Keith, there’s a spare key to my apartment with Mrs. Holt. Take care of yourself. Love you, tell Takashi I said so too.”

Adam paused.

“But don’t forget to kick him. This is Adam signing off. Never change, either of you.”

The purple beam enveloped Adam just as he slammed the recorder off and begun spinning the grappling hook. He was going to really have to time this right if he wanted to catch the edge of the ship instead of just going SPLAT on the side of it, and he was honestly wishing he had his favorite rookie here to help; the kid had a hawk’s eye for this stuff.

Adam’s boots were ripped from the ground and his back was slammed into the ice as he and the surroundings were yanked up by the beam of light. His ship gunned it, whipping out of the thing’s blast radius, and Adam made a note to yell at Wilson for forgetting some of their findings below. Honestly, the man had no clue how to run multiple things as once despite being a scatter-brained mess.

That was when Adam realized he was already really close to the ship, and if he didn’t unglue his back from that ice in maybe a minute, he was going to be in the ship on the aliens’ terms and not his. That was more than low on his priority list.

Adam gathered the grappling hook in his hands again and twisted his way to the edge of the ice pillar, peering over at the gaping hole in the ship sucking him in. It was manned by two obvious sentries, and Adam got the sneaking suspicion there’d be more inside if he pushed it. Adam grumbled a handful of Arabic curses and twisted so he could crawl his way up the ice. His gloves slid against the spiralling pillar, and his boots, once embedded, were loathe to remove themselves. At one point, Adam jerked so hard trying to get his shoe out that his hands flew off and he was slammed face-first into the ice by the gravitational pull of the purple beam. His lip split open, and he immediately curled it in to try and keep the blood from being yanked up ahead of him. Then he grabbed both sides of the ice and hauled himself up. One boot in, then the next, scrabble and dig and nearly fall trying to get a handhold, do the same on the other side, and repeat the whole thing again. There was something rhythmic to it that Adam would normally find relaxing if he weren’t being yanked towards 80% death by the same aliens that had almost certainly abducted his former fiance. The ring hanging around Adam’s neck shifted.

The dark metal closed in on him, and Adam braced his shoulders, drawing the grappling hook up beside him and narrowing his focus on a tiny seam between two bolts. He would have to time this perfectly. Death rates were rising towards 85%.

Then the ice was passing into the light under his feet, the heavy boots shoving upwards as the tip of his grappling hook dug into the metal seam, swinging all his weight towards the ceiling. The ice flew away from him, propelled into the ship as Adam flipped around, feet hitting the inside of the wall as his hand shot up and latched onto the metal railing he had desperately prayed would be there. He slowly cracked one eye open.

The sentries below were waving the pieces of ice through one end of the ship and out the other, leaving spiralling towers of dishevelled ice in their wake. Ah, that explained a lot. And, mercifully, kept them from noticing the human clinging to the rafters of the ship. Adam would very much like to keep it that way; he wasn’t even close to done. A wicked grin spread across the tall man’s face, and he flipped his legs all the way around so he was crouching on top of the rafters. These guys had gone after his jerkish crew and potentially his family; they were going to pay.

“Warlord Ranveig, the ship is turning off course!” Called one of the pilots, turning to face the tall, severely frowning head of the ship.

“Then correct it, Kairol,” he spat back, turning to his right-hand to discuss the recent destruction of his quintessence source by Voltron.

“It won’t respond to me!” Shrieked the pilot, hitting every button on the board in front of him and yanking one or two levers for good measure.

Ranveig scowled, striding towards the center of the ship where he could override the whole system. He was going to have to re-evaluate his budget spending if he wanted to have a ship fit to lead a revolution against Lotor of all Galra. Reaching the console, he cracked his neck and pressed the Override System button. There, now his incompetent pilots could figure out the rest of—

“I HOPPED OFF THE PLANE IN LAX WITH A DREAM AND MY CARDIGAN! WELCOME TO THE LAND OF FAME EXCESS!” Blasted the communication system throughout the entire ship, nearly deafening the sensitive Galra ears right next to the speakers. “WHOA, AM I GONNA FIT IN? JUMPED IN THE CAB, HERE I AM FOR THE FIRST TIME, LOOK TO MY RIGHT AND I SEE THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN! THIS IS ALL SO CRAZ—!”

“What is that?!” Bellowed Ranveig, spinning and throwing out his arm in indignant rage.

His right-hand shrugged, glancing at the calendar on the wall with perfectly arched eyebrows.

“They are quite early. I had not expected a strike for another two movements—”

“What are you talking about?!”

“—but they were certainly right; that signal is very distinctive.”

Krolia flipped out her Blade and whipped it straight at Ranveig. The warlord jerked to the side, grinning toothily as the sword dug into the console just behind him, sending sparks of electricity flickering onto his armor.

“Did you really believe you could defeat me, second-in-command?”

Krolia raised her chin just slightly.

“I don’t need to,” she replied. “That reality warp you found will do the trick for me just fine.”

The space in front of them ripped open, a wormhole jerking the ship further away from the human craft returning to its home planet. Krolia smiled just slightly, then pinned Ranveig with her stare, and dropped into a fighting stance. Hopefully, her reinforcements would come down fairly soon.

Adam went from evilly cackling over his computer as Party in the U.S.A. blasted through the ship and he begun redirecting them away from his crew (Allah, he would have to find Matt after this all was over and trap him in a bear hug for teaching Adam basic hacking), to being flung around the air vent in all of two ticks. Clinging to his computer tightly, Adam let loose a string of colorful Arabic curses as he ricocheted around the metal, the glass on his helmet cracking slightly after slamming face first into the end of the vent and stayed pinned there by the force of whatever the heck had just happened.

This was not what he had programmed the ship to do, of that he was perfectly sure. Well, it probably wasn’t them killing his crew though, so it couldn’t be that bad, right?

An alarm started blaring and red flashed through the slates underneath him.

Oh. Lovely.

Krolia studied the unconscious heaps of Galra scattered across the bridge with a raised eyebrow; she had not expected it to be that easy. Now they just needed to pass into the alternate dimension where the government she had made contact with a few phoebs ago would take them into custody, then she could close the portal forever and finally go to that strange star she had waited so long to see. Really, much easier than she had expected.

Oh, and she was absolutely going to chew out Kolivan and her reinforcements for showing up too early and then never actually helping her fight.

Rolling her eyes, Krolia jerked her sword out of the console and watched the wormhole jerk closed, spitting them out just in front of the dimension warp site. She would have to radio first to make sure that veteran was ready to receive the soldiers; she was quite early and they might not have the facilities ready yet.

“Allah preserve me,” growled Adam, kicking the vent panel open and dropping with his computer slung across his back and grappling hook raised as a weapon.

The corridor was filled with twitching guards crushed under sputtering sentries, completely buried after whatever that weird acceleration was. Had they not engaged the stabilizers or something?

Adam didn’t bother to dwell on it, dashing past them and peering out the window, trying to judge how close they still were to his ship.

Nothing to see for miles. Well. Okay then.

“Hope my map’s wide enough to get me home,” grumbled Adam, scanning the corridor as he begun spinning his grappling hook. “I still have rent to pay when I get back.”

Normally, he wouldn’t be that concerned. There were only a few things that really mattered to him in that apartment, and he usually brought them with him But he had left almost a hundred recordings there for Keith and his favorite rookie in case either of them came back while Adam was in space. Keith couldn’t be given any reason to think Adam had abandoned him too.

“Yes, I’m aware this is unexpected,” came a sudden voice a few doors down, and Adam immediately drew back. “The situation has changed. I was just as surprised as you, but reinforcements came early. Will you be able to use the ship passing through to close this warp?”

“Kat is working on it, they’ll let me know in a tick. Have you met up with the reinforcements?” Came a staticky response that threw shivers down Adam’s spine.

That wasn’t familiar. No, not at all, it didn’t remind him of anything. The static was just messing with him.

“No, they have not arrived yet. I believe the wormhole might have knocked them out; I forgot to engage the stabilizers.”

“You would.”

“Watch it. Has Kat got back to you yet?

“Hold on, here they come.”

There was a long static-filled follow-up, and Adam scanned the rest of the room warily. Groaning heaps of guards were littered across the floor, a fizzling gash sputtered in the control board, and a tall alien was standing near a holographic board with a glowing headset wrapped around her ear. A sword was clenched in her hand, curved and almost glowing, and Adam shrunk back automatically.

Immediately, her eyes whipped across the room, pinning him in the doorway like a tranquilizer dart. Her mouth twisted.

“Are you the one who hacked the ship?” She called, feet shifting slighter wider apart. “I was unaware that we were collaborating with humans.”

“Are you the one who defeated these guys?” Replied Adam, moving his grappling hook so the light bounced off of it and ricocheted through the room.

The alien raised her chin, her shoulders drifting back and bunching almost casually.

“I am.”

“Good, so you won’t kill me for hacking your ship.”

“I appreciate the assistance. I am assuming, though, that you are not working with the Blade?”

Adam blinked, long and slow, and the alien seemed to take that as confirmation.

“Krolia, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My reinforcements caught up. What did Kat say?”

Krolia beckoned Adam closer, pinching her headset as she made minute adjustments to the controls keeping them from hurtling into the giant swirling void of space curling temptingly in front of the ship. Lovely.

“We’re set to take them, and Kat made a few modifications so we could close the dimension warp. You have an escape pod ready?”

“Of course,” replied Krolia curtly. “Has your jetpack been refined to make the jump? If not, you’ll be stuck there forever.”

“That won’t happen,” replied the voice, stronger than before, and Adam knew he was staring but he couldn’t help it, and he did feel slightly entitled to it after saving all of them. “I’m coming home one way or another.”

“I’m sure your pack will be glad to have you back. Now, I’m going to set the ship to go through. Once I do, you have two dobashes to get out of there. Are you ready?” Asked Krolia, long fingers hovering over a large button covered in scribbling Adam couldn’t read for the life of him.

“Ready as I’ll ev—”

“Good, we’re going,” replied Krolia, slapping the button and spinning on her heel.

She clicked off her headset, and strode down the hall without so much as a second glance at Adam even as she began talking. “The escape pod is plenty big enough to hold both of us, come on. I’m not getting trapped in an alternate reality, thank you very much.”

Adam wondered when the phrase “alternate reality” had lost its what-in-the-universe?! quality, slung his grappling hook into his belt, and fell into step beside the tall alien. She looked strangely familiar too.

“Well, a shared objective does friends make,” he commented, and the two let a stiff silence fall between them as they trekked towards the escape pod.

Adam trailed a finger over his recorder, and made a mental promise to commit all this to memory so he could get a good tape for Keith later. That kid was going to be so grumpy that Adam had met an alien first. Although they had nearly tried to kill him…

An image of Keith popping into his head shouting COOL! in response to that sent a fond sigh tumbling past his lips. That boy had no sense of self-preservation, he swore. Maybe that was why he was such a natural with animals…

“Duck,” warned Krolia curtly, jolting Adam from his thoughts and narrowly saving his head from the sharp metal edge of the escape pod in front of him. “We have a dobash left, let’s go.”

“That means nothing to me,” replied Adam bluntly as he popped into the escape pod and automatically took the communications chair.

Krolia slid into the pilot’s chair, locking the door and stabilizing the craft.

“Not a lot of time.”

“Thanks, very clear.”

The buff purple alien gave him a level glare, which Adam was more than happy to return. His rookie spoke two languages fluently and could translate between them like they were both his native tongue; he knew it was possible to give useful translations.

“We will find an Earth equivalent later,” decided Krolia with a scowl. “For now, we’re getting out of here.”

“Now that we can agree on!” Replied Adam, sighing as he adjusted for the different radio frequencies in this quadrant of space. “Let’s blast.”

Okay, wrong phrasing. They slingshotted out so fast Adam’s head snapped back and stars flashed across his vision, a mild grunt escaping his clenched teeth.

Krolia looked more than slightly pleased with herself.

Adam changed her screen’s color to an obnoxious lime green in response. And then, ohhhhhhhh, then it was on.

“Krolia, for Altea’s sake, I can see those flashing lights; I know you’re in there! Stop leaving me floating in space and let me in!” Broke in the reality traveler as Adam and Krolia glared daggers at one another from across the escape pod.

By now, Adam had been jerked every possible way within the confines of his seat belt, and Krolia had discovered a new hatred for a chevron combo of bright orange and neon pink. That was now the color of every light and screen around her, and had briefly been reflected across her skin before she ripped the light from its socket and “accidentally” whacked Adam on the head with it in the process. Whoops.

“Stop making it glow,” she demanded, pointing to the stripes of searing orange clashing horribly with the pink and trading off which line was brighter every two ticks or so.

“Stop flying upside down and I’ll consider it.”

“Krolia, let me in!”

“A fair exchange. You stop first.”

“I can’t reach the button unless you flip us around.”

“Why do you think I went upside down in the first place?”

“Well, looks like that backfired, huh?”

“Look, Krolia—”

“As did your glow machine when it spat fluorescent goo on you.”

“It hit you too; I’m content.”

“Kro—”

“I will go sideways and you will press the button, then I will fully right the ship.”

“Not a chance, you’ll just leave me slumped in the goo puddle while you fly loops!”

“The goo puddle is the entire floor.”

“My point exactly.”

“Look, do you—”

“LISTEN WHEN SOMEONE’S TALKING TO YOU!” Boomed the traveler, and both parties scowled at the communication line he was coming from. “I AM LITERALLY FLOATING IN SPACE, YOU SAID I WOULD BE PICKED UP RIGHT AWAY, AND I WANT THAT TO HAPPEN NOW! THEN YOU CAN CONTINUE YOUR LIGHT SHOW!”

Adam twisted to meet Krolia’s glare, and the two tried to burn holes in one another with their eyes for a few more ticks before Krolia twisted the controls and Adam’s forehead whacked the button to stop the alternative glowing to the strips of neon orange and pink against the wall. The bright colors went nowhere though. Yep, he was definitely going to give Matt a hug later.

“You’re clear to board.”

“Thank you,” groaned the voice, a white-bundled figure drifting into the back of the escape pod. “I haven’t had to use the Dad voice in a few phoebs, it’s getting rusty.”

“You would worry about that.”

“Watch it. I’m coming up, see you in a tick.”

The communications line died, and Adam lifted his forehead from where he had been banged into the colors control.

“You’re more insufferable than my emo teenage little brother,” he grumbled, righting himself in his chair.

Krolia raised an eyebrow.

“You match me annoyance for annoyance, human.”

“Not my name,” shot back Adam. “Adam Wazir.”

“Krolia,” replied the alien, sizing him up and sitting back in her chair with a puff of breath. “I will return you to your planet once I get this one back to his pack. He has been waiting some time to see them again.”

“Seems fair,” said Adam, shrugging and turning back to his communications board. “I’d say thanks for the lift, but since you’re going to barrel roll me all the way there, I’ll stick with a sarcastic ‘joy’ instead.”

“The feeling is mutual, Wazir.”

“How are aliens better at pronouncing that than people from my own planet?” Grumbled Adam, poking at the controls as the door slid open behind him.

“Thank you, Krolia. I really appreciate the chance to come home,” said the voice, all kindness and gratitude and slight petty annoyance about being left out in space for ten dobashes while the two bickered and dear Allah, that tone was too familiar for it not to be—

Adam, being the collected adult that he was who always had a well-thought out solution to whatever problem was thrown at him, then proceeded to shriek and spin around so fast that he toppled out of his chair and straight into the puddle of fluorescent green goo, knocking his glasses off and nearly banging his head again.

It didn’t matter.

He didn’t need glasses to recognize his former fiance.

“ADAM?!” Screeched Shiro, leaping back so fast he did slam his head into the doorway and curled into a ball to cradle it and let out a quiet whine.

“You…” murmured Adam, everything inside him seizing as the ground under his feet seemed to steady for the first time in almost two years. “YOU COMPLETE MORON! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU COULDN’T JUST GET LOST IN SPACE, NOOOOOOOOOOO, YOU GOT LOST IN AN ALTERNATE REALITY, ARE YOU ACTUALLY KIDDING ME?!”

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish giggle, and Adam fumbled uselessly for his glasses, grumbling the whole time about stupid fiances and not listening and smart people wearing glasses and other intelligent comments for the ages.

Krolia blinked.

“Are you the one Shiro mentioned? The one who has a matching ring to the one arou—”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Broke in Shiro shrilly. “No clue what she’s talking about, so uh…you, you’re—! Wait, wha—? But, how—? I don’t—you can’t—uh—”

“I went to space to look for you guys,” interrupted Adam, scowling as he finally found the cracked frames. “A giant purple ion beam thingy tried to eat my crew; I figured it might have something to do with the Kerberos mission vanishing, so I followed it.”

“He moved our schedule up by two movements and has made a tragedy of this pod’s decor,” declared Krolia, returning to her seat and turning her headset back on. “I will update Kolivan, perhaps you two would like a moment alone in the back?”

“As long as there are no closets,” chorused Shiro and Adam, the old joke surfacing like a forgotten cove of priceless treasure.

Like a promise that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe they could make it okay. They had time, after all.

“So five giant magical alien cats piloted by a bunch of teenagers that combine to make a mecha robot thing that can meld minds and summon giant cannons or flaming swords to fight a 10,000-year-(decaphoeb?)-old dictator and save the universe?”

“You always manage to make things sound insane, and yes, decaphoeb.”

“That was insane to begin with, Takashi!”

“Wait, you have how many recordings for Keith?!”

“I lost count.”

“Aw, where’d the perfectionist little Adam go?”

“He’s occupied yelling at a string of moronic teams who can’t pronounce his name.”

“Touche.”

“You shouldn’t have left.”

“I had to.”

“Why? Wasn’t Earth good enough?! You had family, people, Keith…me there! How could you just leave us behind?!”

“How could I ask you to watch me die?!”

“That’s my choice, Takashi, not yours! I knew what I was saying when I got engaged to you; you should have respected that!”

“……I just wanted to protect you.”

“Running doesn’t protect anyone.”

“Are you still mad?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay.”

“……Do you still like strawberries?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I have some. Want one?”

“……Thanks, Adam. I’d love one.”

“I promise this is natural, I didn’t dye it like this!”

“Thank Allah for that, you haven’t lost your fashion sense.”

“Aww, you think I have good taste!”

“That would be a correct statement.”

“Pfft! You can’t hide a compliment in complicated language, Adam!”

“Shoot, always works on Keith.”

“It could not have been that long!”

“It was! I thought it was going to swallow Hunk in one bite, and Coran started crying he was so freaked out!”

“Pffffffffft, talk about a miscalculation!”

“Oh, Allura didn’t let him live it down for a phoeb!”

“Good, no worthy princess would!”

“That was not spelled correctly!”

“Yes it was! I can’t help it that you don’t know how to spell separately!”

“Takashi, it is not spelled with two ‘e’s!”

“It is!”

“That’s desperate, not separate!”

“They sound the same though!”

“Welcome to English! Now unhang me, you heathen!”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

“Sleep well, Takashi.”

“Hey, shhh. It’s okay, it’s just a nightmare. You’re safe.”

“……Adam? You’re here?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve got you, no matter what.”

“…You won’t leave?”

“Not for the world.”

“Adam, I swear, Krolia is going to throw you out of this escape pod someday.”

“How dare you imply that I had anything to do with her suit being covered in neon orange and pink flashing lights, I’ll have you know I had nothing to do with that whatsoever!”

“And this is why you were never in theatre.”

“How dare, I was never in theatre because the science team loved me, you liar.”

“Here, your favorite drink.”

“Can’t believe I’ve gotten used to this already.”

“Well, it has been a phoeb, and you were always adaptable.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“……You’re still wearing the ring.”

“I never took it off.”

“Oh. Same.”

“I thought we were going to die!”

“Relax, Adam, I was going way too fast for those fighters to get us.”

“Yes, my point exactly!”

“Rude!”

“……You know I still love you, right?”

“………Yeah. I know.”

“Good.”

“You know I love you too, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

Chapter Text

“Yes, I get that Pidge should hack the bases to trace these guys,” snapped Keith, rubbing his eyes as if to wipe away the purple clinging beneath them. “But I think we need her on the ground too. She’s multitasked before, why is this so different?”

Lance spun the glowing map of the stronghold between them, tracing a long hallway with his nail and stifling a yawn. The Blade of Marmora had finally located the main supply base for one of the strongest remaining rebels against Lotor’s reign, but the Blades had suggested Voltron handle it for a reason. It was more heavily fortified than Zarkon’s flagship, and even Pidge had let out a strangled chuckle when she saw the defense systems.

“This time, she’s hacking two databases at once. I mean, she could totally do it running, this is Pidge, after all, but I bet we’d get more time if she could do it from her Lion.”

“So we could get troops in and maybe out again before serious aerial support arrived?” Asked Keith, leaving his hand stretched across his face as he tried to shove the pressure out of his forehead.

“Yes, sir Captain Mullet, and maybe Pidge could track the supply routes to their conclusions and nab us these enemies’ coordinates,” added Lance, lips curving into a brilliant smile as he flipped his lion towards the ship playfully.

Keith snickered, dropping a tiny glowing Black on top of the cruiser and watching Lance’s eyes light up like a pair of mischievous stars. “Lion pile!”

The cruiser didn’t stand a chance. By the time Keith suggested they add the Castleship to the fun, the battleship was a heap of scrap metal under the lions’ combined weight and claws. Oh, if only they could make these miniature versions shoot ice and fire.

“The perfect strategy,” joked Keith, stretching his arms high above his head and relishing the resounding POPs that cracked through the room. “Drop Voltron on the ship, win, go home.”

“Coran would be thrilled,” snickered Lance, though the last part of his sentence was consumed by a yawn, and his grip tightened ever-so-slightly against the table to steady himself.

Keith rubbed at his eyes, nearly keeling over backwards at the force of his yawn, and stole a glance at the nearby clock. They would be up in four and a half hours, thrown straight into training and finishing up battle plans, and then they were expecting a status update from the Blade of Marmora on Zarkon and Haggar’s movements. He was pretty sure he had forgotten to clean his armor again too.

“Keith,” called Lance, and then his large, warm hand was coming down on Keith’s shoulder and son of a gun, when had he gotten that close— “Dude, go to sleep. I know this is our first big strike as a team and all that, but we have a phoeb. Plus, we already handled the Kral Zera, remember? Voltron’s glorious rep won’t even be dented if this goes wrong. And we’ve all got your back.”

“Right,” muttered Keith, gulping and letting his shoulder lean into the touch, knocking a few more bricks off the wall he had put up to protect himself for so many years. “Right. Sleep.”

“You got it, Mullet Man,” said Lance, squeezing his shoulder. “Now come on, I’m carrying you to bed. You look like you’re going to pass out on the way there.”

Keith was more than ready to protest this, and he would have gladly fought Lance all night to keep his feet on the ground, but he wasn’t really given that option. One moment he was standing (swaying) on the ship, the next he was curled against Lance’s back, nose pressed to his stupidly soft shoulder, and arms looped around the taller boy’s neck.

“Don’t drop me,” he grumbled, nestling closer to Lance’s floppy hood and feeling Lance’s chuckle thrum through his body.

“Tempting…” Teased Lance, readjusting him so he was fully supported and throwing a full-sun grin over his shoulder. “Get some sleep, Mullet. I’ll drop you off in your room.”

“Mm,” acknowledged Keith blearily. “Thanks, Lance.”

Lance chuckled, starting down the hallway towards their rooms and tightening his grip around the half-asleep boy draped over his back. A soft throb went through his heart, and Lance slid out of the bridge door without so much as brushing Keith against the doorway.

“Anytime, Team Leader,” he whispered, the words tripping off his tongue like a magic spell, a chant to keep things on the right track, a wish to protect the ones he loved.

“Dude, get a brush,” were Pidge’s first words when Keith trudged his way into the kitchen, the oversized t-shirt Lance had made for her birthday screaming I’m not interested in being polite or heterosexual. “You look like a cat who stuck his finger in a light socket.”

“Cats don’t have fingers,” grumbled Keith, plopping into a chair beside her and sticking his nutrient water straw defiantly into his mouth.

“Semantics,” replied Pidge blearily, waving her spoon around as she stifled an all-encompassing yawn. “Where’s Lance?”

“Probably getting ready in his room or the bathroom,” said Keith, stabbing a particularly blue square of food Hunk had saved for him and popping it in his mouth as he continued talking. “We were up late planning for the strike, so he might also still be asleep.”

Pidge smirked, taking a long slow drink from her water as she watched Keith chew.

“Plaaaaaaaaaanning. Sure.”

“Fight me.”

“You’re a rag doll right now, I could whoop your butt,” snorted Pidge, interlacing her fingers and stretching until her eyes squeezed shut. “Now go drag your boyfriend to breakfast, I’m pretty sure Allura’s going to call us for training any dobash now.”

Keith shot to his feet, nearly knocking his knees against the table as his cheeks flushed a bright scarlet.

“You—! He’s—I—Pidge—n—He’s not my boyfriend!” Spluttered Keith, jamming his hands into soft pink pockets and ducking his chin as he strode from the room.

“Could’ve fooled me,” trilled Pidge from behind him, and Keith really wished the doors weren’t automatic so he could kick them shut instead of watching Pidge’s full-blown smirk slowly vanish.

He wasn’t lying, though. He knew Lance was…special to him, but he still wasn’t sure how far that went. Was this a crush? Did he like like Lance, did he love him, or was he in love for the very first time? He wasn’t sure how to put this supernova of sunshine in his chest into words. And, until he did, he wasn’t going to say a word about it to Lance.

“Sit right here, chill level low,

Close your eyes, and just let it flow.

Right next to me, I hear your heart beat beat,

When the dial turns up and the music starts playing.”

The mellow song interrupted Keith’s flustered train of thoughts, and he ripped his chin out of his thumb’s grip, jerking towards the door it echoed from. Huh; he didn’t think he’d ever actually gone in that one. It had a blue seal on it, a blooming flower laced with diamonds and thin lines of gold, almost springing with life on the otherwise white door. Keith knocked lightly, unable to shake off the curiosity that motivated a good half of his actions.

No answer, other than a beautiful, soft, we don’t realize in this society, doesn’t matter how your hair looks or what they are thinking. So, with the impulsiveness that motivated the other half of his actions, he simply punched the panel to open it.

“Just, just, what we are finding!” Sang Lance, his outstretched leg rippling back to knock against his foot before leaping to the side. “Tap your foot and listen in.”

His arms stretched over his head, weaving and falling behind him as he raised his chest in an arch. “Ignore the world, let the music cave in,

Close your phone and breathe in the air.”

His feet closed the gap between them, and his ocean-blue eyes crinkled as a smile settled across his heart-shaped face. “You’ll soon realize that there’s something that is—”

That smile turned into the sun as the music and his motion exploded at once. “So much more than this!”

One foot bounced around the other, crossing halfway across the room as the other popped up behind him in a cross step, a move he bounced in the other direction in time with the music as his arms spread like wings around him. “It is what it is! So much more than this!”

His leg flew up then, toes tapping the inside of his thigh as his fingertips came to rest against one another in a half-circle, twirling with his eyes lightly closed. “So much more than this!”

Lance giggled as he landed roughly, dropping to one hand as his legs shot out, balancing on the sides of his feet for half a tick before leaping the other way. Keith didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so alive. “It is what it is! So much more than this!”

Lance leapt back to his feet, crossing his feet and spinning until he was standing straight again, chin raised and eyes sparkling as his chest huffed, breath scraping roughly against his throat and smile outshining any sun. Keith gulped clumsily, and made the mistake of taking a step closer.

Immediately, the door behind him swished shut, and the sound that had been too quiet when he wanted to douse Pidge with a smoothie was now deafening. Lance certainly seemed to agree; he jumped a good three feet in the air and spun so fast he tripped over his own feet and crashed over onto his back.

Apparently still in dancer mode, he rolled down his spine and came up in a crouch, as if prepared to leap over backwards into a flare.

“Keith!” Shrieked Lance, cheeks dark red from the exercise and loose, sleeveless blue hoodie swishing with his every movement. “Why are you here?!”

“Breakfast!” Squawked Keith, desperately wishing he had some sort of hood to tighten until no one could see his volcanic cheeks. “You missed breakfast! I mean, we have a plate for you, but training starts soon, so you should eat!”

Lance’s breathing still sounded off, too deep and grating as he wiped sweat from his forehead and placed a hand on his heaving chest.

“Ah, thanks buddy,” he said, grinning as he hauled himself to his feet. “Sorry about that, you just surprised me! I think you’re the first person to barge in on one of these!”

“You didn’t tell me you danced,” grumbled Keith, crossing his arms and turning to walk with Lance to the dining hall.

Lance trotted along easily, smile only growing warmer as he jumped to Keith’s side and, in a flurry of arms and crazy gestures, begun telling him all about learning how to breakdance in his tiny room, getting shouted at by his siblings for stamping around on the thin floors, and taking ballet classes at his old elementary school late into the evening. Apparently no one jumped as high as he did, and every time any of their costumes broke, he would sew it up, which is why people started calling him The Tailor, a nickname he tugged with him to the Garrison.

Keith frowned a little at that, cocking his head to the side. The Tailor. Funny, he had a crush on this one boy named Taylor there when they first started there at age twelve. Taylor had been cheerful and crazy cute, but Keith could never find him outside of the classroom and simulations. It was like he was some sort of flying spirit, only there to get the work done and then vanishing the moment it was over. But, for some reason, he never joined Keith in the fighter pilot class, and the beautiful boy vanished from his life altogether.

“Yeah, I hate it when I can’t dance! It makes me feel caged and just blegh, you know!” Said Lance, making a face and turning his sunlight smile on Keith, melting away the sudden memories of his first crush.

Keith felt his own lips curve up in response, and he nudged Lance’s shoulder with his own.

“Yeah, very expressive there, Lance.”

Lance snorted and slung an arm around his shoulder as they continued their trek towards the dining hall, his voice bouncing up and down like a song of his own making. It was oddly comforting, and Keith felt the tension of the last few days slipping away from his brow.

“How come you didn’t tell me you could dance, though?” He asked once Lance paused long enough from describing his performance in third grade to breathe; it came out softer than he had meant it to.

“Oh, I just forgot!” Replied Lance with an easy laugh. “I thought everyone knew! It wasn’t a secret or anything like that!”

Keith’s smile grew wide at that, and his next thought tumbled out before he had time to apply reason or logic, to even consider how bad it might be for his heart if Lance agreed, and how they didn’t have the time, and how he was so very gay—

“Think you could teach me?”

Lance blinked, turning painfully slowly to stare at Keith, neither boy daring to breathe. Their noses were practically touching, two sets of eyes wide as the galaxy they were subsumed in, and shining like summer sunshine reflecting through a stained glass window.

“You bet!” Cheered Lance then, pulling Keith closer and turning to make sure they didn’t walk into a wall as they continued, completely oblivious to the thundering of Keith’s heartbeat.

He could not believe he had just asked Lance to do that, but Lance had looked so alive and happy and beautiful dancing, and he wanted to see that more. He wanted to see Lance smiling freely, like he knew he was on top of the world and that he deserved to dance up there for as long as he wanted to.

“Lance!” Came a sudden cry, and both boys spun as Allura rushed towards them, pajamas stained and hair a poofy mess; Keith felt his insides clench.

Right. It was okay for him to lo—to feel this way about Lance, but that didn’t mean Allura didn’t too. And if there was anyone in the world who deserved Lance, it was her. He had to remember that. This was not his love story.

“Lance, the Blade of Marmora’s ship has just requested permission to dock, could you please meet with them while I get myself in a more…tolerable state?” She begged, nearly tripping over herself as she gasped for breath.

“Whoa, Allura, it’s fine!” Soothed Lance, steadying his frazzled friend. “Let me handle this, you go back to bed and get some rest! I’ll take Keith with me, we’ve got it.”

“Thank you,” sighed Allura, tugging at her tangled hair with a sigh. “Honestly, I do not know what the mice do at night to make it like this.”

“Aww, they’re just having fun,” said Lance, grinning. “Plus, your hair is like a playground for them.”

“Excuse you!” Snorted Allura, shoving Lance and turning to Keith with a kind smile. “Make sure this one does not offend Kolivan, would you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Keith was actually the resident expert on ticking off authority, so he wasn’t sure why she was asking him, but he wasn’t really in a spot to complain. This was their first update with the Blade of Marmora since he had announced he was staying with Voltron; if it caused a diplomatic crisis, he was rather that fell squarely on his neck than Allura or Lance’s.

“Aw, come on, I’m good at this, Allura!” Whined Lance, though he was smiling that strange, secret smile he seemed to share more and more with Allura these days. “I’ll be the one keeping him in check!”

“If you do not get there soon, neither of you will be alive to keep anyone in check.”

“RIGHT, SO WE’RE GOING NOW!”

Keith felt a flurry of laughs bubble past his lips as Lance grabbed his wrist, yanking him down the hall as Allura smiled dangerously after them. But he swore he saw her give him a thumbs-up when she noticed him glancing back.

“So, is there anything I should do…?” Muttered Keith as the ship whizzed in, settling to complete docking in front of the two paladins.

“Eh, just stand there and try not to look murderous; I’ve got this,” replied Lance, winking cheekily and turning back with a warm smile to welcome the delegates.

Keith tried not to look like he was cringing too much.

The ship’s top popped open (wait, was this an escape pod?) and a tall Galran woman turned to say something to the people behind her. From the sound of it, it seemed like a mix of see you next time, take care and a decisive good riddance you absolute weirdos. Lance pursed his lips until they curled in on themselves, but his stupid grin still shone through until Keith kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Hey, you’re not doing that much better, Samurai!” He hissed indignantly, poking Keith’s cheeks, plump with contained laughter.

“You’re the star diplomat here, Sharpshooter!” Replied Keith, stabbing Lance’s cheek with his finger in retribution and talking right over his quiet squawks. “Don’t let them know we think they’re goofballs, the Blade hates that!”

“Oh really? ‘Cause one of their ace members is the biggest dork I’ve ever met!”

“Lance, I swear—”

“Alright Krolia, thank you for the ride. Come on sweetheart, let’s go,” came a placating voice from within the escape pod over the sounds of a quiet squabble.

“Hmph! Fine, but the next time we meet, I will turn your entire ship bright orange!” Called one of the delegates, and Lance straightened, a warm smile sliding automatically into place as the two cloaked figures hopped out of the craft.

“I hope you got here safely!” He said, stepping forward and missing the unspeakably loving smile that crossed Keith’s face as he held out his hand and continued. “I’m Lance, second-in-command of Voltron and pilot of the Red Lion. This is Keith, he’s the head of Voltron and pilot of the Black Lion. We can go to the bridge for the status update if you would prefer; that’s where we have our map, but may I ask your names?”

Both figures stood perfectly still, staring at the tall Cuban like he had just sprouted stars and started glowing. The taller one slowly reached out his hand, clasping Lance’s, but he didn’t shake. Lance nearly jumped as he was yanked into a hug (he thought the Blades hated touching?) and this was so tight, so unspeakable warm, and so familiar—

“Hi, Lance. It’s been too long.”

Lance felt all the breath rush from his body at once, the familiar voice immediately making his full body tense like iron. His secondary instincts won out though, and his arms acted without permission. They threw themselves around the man, clinging to him as if scared he would slip away, and a long shudder unwound his body.

“Lance? You okay?” Called Keith, footsteps quick and just enough tension in his voice to draw Lance back to reality.

“He’s missed you,” he whispered, voice nearly choking on itself. “Go say hi.”

“Thank you,” replied the figure, stepping back as the ship roared out of the hangar again and the other man made a face after it.

“Lance? What’s going on?” Asked Keith, reaching his comrade’s side and resting a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back just a few steps. “Who are you? State your name.”

“My name?” Asked the figure, placing a finger to his chin, and Lance watched the gentle, slow smile spread over his face. “Onii-san.”

Keith’s hand slid from Lance’s shoulder, and the world slowed to a stop around the four men. Then the Red Paladin stepped to the side, and Keith rushed forward, tackling his older brother in a hug that sent them both sprawling on their backs.

“Shiro!” Cried Keith, arms nearly choking the older man as tears raced down his cheeks and sobs hitched his breath. “You came back! We were looking everywhere for you!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” murmured Shiro gently, curling protectively around the younger teen. “Black got freaked out when Zarkon nearly killed me, so she teleported me to an alternate reality where he had already been defeated. It took me a while to find a way back.”

“Apparently he nearly got killed there more than he did here, so I doubt the Black Lion will be doing that again anytime soon!” Said the other man, snorting with something suspiciously like laughter as he dropped his cloak. “Geez, someday you’re going to have to learn not to set pasta water on fire, Takashi!”

“Dios mios,” whispered Lance, hands falling limply at his side and eyes going wider than he could have ever thought possible as his brain short-circuited. “Estoy soñando.”

“Sorry buddy, I’m still not fluent enough to know what that one means,” said Adam gently, opening his arms and smiling until his eyes were crinkled shut. “It’s good to see you again, Lance.”

And, just like that, his brain kick-started back to life.

Lance launched himself into Adam’s arms, legs tightening around his waist and arms coming around his neck as the taller man spun him in large, loose circles above the ground.

“¡Dios mios!” He shrieked, clinging to him and nearly crying with incredulous laughter. “¡No lo puedo creer! You’re here! How are you here?! This—you have to be—dios—this—I— this is amazing!”

Adam let out a booming laugh, holding tightly onto the gangly teen and spinning a little faster, letting Lance throw his legs out and be twirled over the ground just like they used to whenever he aced his tests.

“You’d better believe it, hermano!” Cheered Adam, tears springing to his eyes as he finally, finally, finally heard his ace rookie’s laugh again after a long, cold year. “I finally found you reckless idiots, and I’m not going anywhere!”

“You’d better not, hermano!” Replied Lance, tapping his feet to the ground as the swinging slowed, and stepping back to take in the sight of his sassy, smart, and amazingly kind mentor. “Hey, you finally changed your frames! About time, those blocky ones were way too dorky!”

“Gee Lance, tell me how you really feel,” teased Adam as if he wasn’t smiling like he had just been handed the stars, the moon, and the sun all at once.

“I have, for years!” Replied Lance with a monkey grin, knocking his shoulder against Adam’s and turning to smile at the mini pile of paladins a few feet away.

Keith was still crying, hiding his face in Shiro’s shoulder, and Shiro had a hand against the back of his head, whispering comforting Japanese that Lance didn’t bother trying to understand. He didn’t need to; it drained all the tension from his shoulders anyway and obliterated the question that had been lingering at the corner of his mind. Because the clone had refused to speak Japanese to Keith.

“Thanks for bringing Shiro back,” said Lance, turning to Adam with a soft smile. “Keith needed his older brother.”

“Thanks for keeping Keith safe,” replied Adam immediately, resting a hand on Lance’s shoulder with a warm smile. “Shiro and I have been worried.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Lance, shoving his hands in his pockets and puffing out his chest. “It’s a full-time job with that mullet head!”

Adam cackled with laughter at the nickname, which turned into a full-out bellow again when Keith made time to fling his gloves at Lance’s face and miss spectacularly.

“Believe me, the same goes for you, Kelphead!”

“Keith!”

Adam clutched his stomach, laughter ricocheting off the walls, and Shiro was more than happy to throw his head back and join in the fun. Then Keith was giggling, his body shaking with the force of his joy, and Lance didn’t bother to resist the desire to let out a whoop of laughter.

“We have to tell the team! Pidge and Hunk and Allura and Matt and Coran will be thrilled!” He cried, dashing for the speaker system, and Shiro stood with Keith wrapped comfortably around his back in a piggyback ride.

“Could you put me on?” He called, and Lance turned back with a shining smile eclipsing any supernova and bringing tears to his own eyes.

His people were back. Adam, who was like an older brother to him, who had picked him off the ground when he had been ready to give up, who had reminded him of who he wanted to be, and who had instilled a nearly unshakeable confidence in him. Shiro, his hero and role model, the goofball who had gone along with whatever nicknames he invented for the team, the one who was almost always happy to bounce jokes off him, who believed unconditionally in his team, their Shiro, was finally home. And he had never seen Keith look so happy, tears streaming from his glistening eyes as he dangled off his brother’s back and a hot chocolate smile spreading across his face. It was a dream too good to be true.

Then Shiro stepped up to the speaker system, Lance pressed the button, and he heard his dream become reality.

“Hey guys, Shiro speaking. It’s good to be back. I missed all of you, and I’m really glad you’re safe. I can’t wait to see you all again. And, uhhhhh, I have definitively concluded that laser guns go blam blam blam.”

Keith turned to face Lance, tear-stained cheek still smushed against Shiro’s back, and wordlessly held out one hand.

This really is our Shiro, isn’t it?

Lance smiled, reaching out and clasping Keith’s fingers, squeezing a silent, warm reply.

Yeah, you bet it is.

Chapter Text

It took almost a full phoeb for Keith to get used to coming down to a breakfast table already occupied by Shiro and Adam, who were usually in the middle of either a petty argument (“You have been humming that song nonstop for over an hour, knock it off already!” “Payback for singing Welcome to the Black Parade at three in the morning yesterday!”) or a stupid joke he only caught the tailend of (“—he just started running!” “No!” “Yes!” “Pfffffffft!”) or a soft, quiet conversation that he wished he hadn’t interrupted. Shiro looked so happy in those moments.

And that was only getting used to breakfast. Both of his brothers joined the team for training, and Shiro’s gobsmacked expression when he saw how far they had progressed absolutely made the entire first day about showing off. Adam and Hunk cooked together now, bouncing ideas off of each other and apparently trading cooking-based jokes that no one got, and Lance seemed to disappear with the older man for hours at a time every other day. Pidge and Matt occupied Shiro with games and master plans and a million other wacky things the two had concocted. Sometimes Shiro and Adam sat with Allura and Coran to talk or tell stories or just laugh and eat together. Most of the time, though, Keith found himself snugly situated between the two men and admiring the twin rings sparkling around their necklaces in a promise of patience. Finally, he truly felt like he had his entire family back together.

“Lance? Can you help me with these battle plans, I can’t find the right diagram!” Called Keith, sticking his head into the training room as he heard the telltale sound of blasters.

“Yeah, just a sec, man!” Shouted Lance, diving beneath an onslaught of lasers and spinning to shoot the drone out of the air.

Keith smiled, leaning against the door contentedly as he watched his right hand demolish the drones. He flipped over a low shot, landing on the robot and crushing it before spinning to fire three shots in succession, throwing himself into a bridge to avoid the return bullets as his struck the droids.

They dropped to smoking heaps on the ground, and Lance flipped to his feet with a cocky smirk. “Hey there, Samurai.”

Keith flushed redder than their shared lion and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

“Battle plans. Uh. Diagrams.”

“Yep, got that,” replied Lance with a laugh, wiping sweat from his forehead and deactivating his bayard. “I thought we figured that out already, though?”

“Change of plans. I’m going to fight on the ground this time, no Lion.”

Lance stiffened, the hand reaching to pull off his helmet turning to iron as he met Keith’s gaze.

“Keith, you’re the only one who can fly the Black Lion right now,” he replied slowly. “We’re going to want all of the Lions there for our first team strike.”

Keith shifted on the balls of his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pink jacket and leaning his shoulders back slightly as if to run. Lance’s eyes narrowed and he set his helmet down slowly, focus never leaving Keith’s face.

“Shiro might be able to fly them.”

Lance threw both hands into the air and dropped them back onto his face with a resounding SMACK. Keith slid backwards automatically, hand reaching for his knife at the sharp echo, but Lance just let out a loud groan.

“Yes, Shiro might be able to fly Black,” said Lance, dragging his fingers down his face and glaring at Keith with eyes pulled past human length, “but that doesn’t mean you should be on the ground. Look, if you want to give Shiro a shot with Black again, I get that. Let’s do it, but not in the air. We just need to go to the Lions properly and let them decide.”

“I can’t risk taking Black from Shiro,” murmured Keith, biting his lower lip. “They love him.”

“They love you too,” countered Lance. “I get that you want to make sure Shiro has a Lion, but in the end, we’re not the ones who get to choose. Black will decide who pilots them. And who knows? Maybe one of the other Lions will take in Shiro!”

Keith shifted from the very back of his foot to the toe, rolling up the sole of his foot over and over again as if that would straighten out his thoughts. He couldn’t imagine taking someone’s Lion from them; it was too wrong. He wouldn’t put anyone else through that. He wouldn’t risk losing these people like he had lost everyone else. Not again.

“Keith,” called Lance softly, hand brushing his shoulder as if hesitant before coming up to cup his cheek. “You deserve a Lion too. We all do. Just…leave the math to the Lions, okay? We won’t fracture, and I won’t let anyone walk away this time. We’re going to be your family, no matter what.”

Keith leaned into the touch wordlessly, exhaling and trying to stay steady. He couldn’t say that the idea of taking Red from Lance sent daggers into his lungs. Even more than taking Black from Shiro this time, the idea of Lance being left without a Lion scared him speechless. Lance, who was too kind, too loyal, too willing to give up his place on the team if it meant keeping the others on it. He didn’t want that to be taken advantage of. He didn’t want Lance to be forced to either walk out or suffer by staying.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” promised Lance, resting his forehead against Keith’s. “I’ve got your back, no matter what happens. Why don’t we go see the Lions today, and we’ll make any adjustments to the battle plans tonight? We’ve got this. We’re a good team, remember?”

“Oh, so you remember today?” Teased Keith, smiling slightly as he raised his own hand to rest against Lance’s.

“Who knows? Maybe I already forgot,” replied Lance airily, bumping Keith’s nose with his own scrunched-up bunny one and opening shining ocean eyes to gaze through Keith’s and straight into his soul. “You’ll just have to keep reminding me.”

Keith gulped as the team stood before the Lions, staring at each of their golden eyes as if they were the biggest threat to the paladins right then instead of the Galra actually attacking them. He didn’t want to see any of his family get hurt again. None of them deserved to be rejected.

“Okay, I’ll just do a quick check-in with Green!” Called Pidge, trying to sound relaxed as she ambled over to her Lion.

Honestly, the tension rolling off Keith, Lance, Allura, and Shiro was freaking her out, they needed to seriously chill! True, she couldn’t imagine what switching Lions felt like, but they didn’t need to scare her in addition to themselves!

Green lit up under her touch, nuzzling closer and vibrating with warm pulses of affection that pulled the tightly coiled tension from her shoulders. Green was her girl, and she was Green’s girl. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. Yellow nudged Hunk, and the big guy gave his Lion a huge hug in response, cooing over how great his boy was. Adam grinned, and Matt let out a noticeable sigh of relief.

Allura placed her hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, and a memory sharp as Keith’s sword flitted through his mind.

“I am more than happy we have our Shiro back,” said Allura in soft Altean as she and Lance prepared for the meeting. “I am just worried that…that my time as a paladin is over. I do not like asking you all to sacrifice yourselves while I stand safely on the sidelines and give orders. It is not the noble thing to do.”

“Allura, that’s not how we see it at all,” reassured Lance, running a comb through his hair and passing her a hair tie automatically. “You guys bring the Castleship into combat all the time, and you’ve always been reckless and in danger anyway. You’ve saved our lives a hundred times over without being a paladin.”

Allura’s lips twisted as she studied the pink hair tie, but Lance just slid her the salvan (what he fondly called black goo chapstick) as he continued talking. “Plus, you’re a killer pilot, so who says you’re not going to stay a paladin? I mean, yeah, you had some trouble with Blue at first, but the switch was tricky for all of us. You came back guns ablazing and saved us all; you’ve been great ever since. I know Blue loves you, and she’ll be the one deciding. Can you still feel her presence?”

Allura gulped, tightening her hold on the salvan and squeezing her eyes shut. Lance’s chest clenched, his own motions slowing as he watched her. Watched her search for it, that gentle blue light she loved more than anything else, the one that had been there for her unconditionally, who had chosen her when she felt insignificant and helpless. Watched her open her eyes after several ticks too long and look straight at him as every muscle in her shoulders slumped.

“Yes, I still do,” she breathed, pulling her hair to the front and handing the tie back to Lance to indicate that she wanted him to braid it.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Cheered Lance, separating her thick locks into three segments and overlapping two on autopilot. “You’re going to be just fine. You’ll always have a place on this team, okay? You’re family.”

Allura exhaled, letting the fear fall from her with a single, long breath.

“Of course,” she murmured. “We are a family. All of us,” she added sternly, meeting Lance’s ocean gaze with her own sharp eyes.

Lance just grinned.

“I trust you,” he reminded her.

“Unconditionally,” she finished, straightening her spine and raising her chin to meet any challenge the universe threw at her and her family.

“V vedal fxd,” whispered Allura, patting his back as she walked towards Blue.

“Incondicionalmente,” called Lance after her, turning towards Red.

Keith smiled at the exchange, ignoring the serpents in his stomach as he gestured for Shiro to go first.

“They've missed you,” he promised, pushing Shiro gently towards Black and standing back.

It was over, and that was okay. He didn’t need to be a paladin to be part of this family; he finally understood that. So, no matter what happened, he wasn’t going to run away this time. Not to mention, there was no way Lance would let him. So, this was okay.

Keith breathed long and shaky, Adam’s hand reassuring against his shoulder as Shiro stepped up to the Lion. Black stared at the man before them, gold eyes glistening as if in recognition. Then, slowly, the Lion moved.

They shook their head gently, and Keith swore he felt just the barest trace of the thoughts they were sending to Shiro. Thank you for everything, and goodbye. The bond between them, so weak Keith could barely feel it, strained.

Shiro bowed, a warm surge of affection rushing through his bond to the Black Lion, and he stepped back.

SNAP.

A stone dropped in Keith’s stomach as the bond between his older brother and the Lion broke. It was over, but not for him. Black still thrummed softly in his mind, a little sadder than before, but also a little fiercer, as if to say did you really think I’d let you slip away from me that easily again? and a guilty warmth bloomed in his chest. He was still Black’s paladin. There was no doubt.

“ALLURA?!” Shrieked Lance, leaping back as Red lunged from her barrier and snatched the Altean between her jaws. “RED! DON’T EAT PEOPLE WITHOUT WARNING!”

The Lion raised her head haughtily, straightening and settling into her place with an odd smugness. Lance couldn’t blame her though. Allura was kind of a dream pilot.

“Cuidarla por mí, niña,” he murmured, patting Red’s side one last time before stepping back.

His throat was closed, his stomach clenched, but he just threw his chin up and spun towards Blue. If he got to pilot her again, well, wow. That would mean an insane amount to him. She was the first one who had chosen him, and the fact that she had wanted him over anyone else there, from Keith to Shiro to Hunk, made him feel like he had been given the world. But when he saw Shiro standing there, staring at Black and Keith with that proud, just barely wistful expression, ice crept into his veins. Something deep in his gut told him that if he walked over to Blue right now, she would let him in. She would say yes. He would be her paladin again.

“Hey, Shiro!” He called, stepping towards the older man and tapping his shoulder. “I think you should try Blue! Aww, see how she’s looking at you!”

Keith spun, brow furrowed, and Lance flashed him an I’ve-got-this smile. Keith wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stand the idea of taking someone’s Lion. Lance wasn’t kidding when he said he wouldn’t let anyone walk away again. He wouldn’t risk losing his family this time, he had already endured that three times. No matter what, he was going to protect the ones he loved. That was what being a paladin meant.

“What, is she making heart eyes at me?” Said Shiro with a chuckle, nudging Lance’s shoulder and following him to the barrier with that fond smile Lance had seen twisted into a sneer for two phoebs.

“Yep, I think Adam should be jealous!” Teased Lance, unable to hide the grin expanding over his face.

He had been scared he’d never see that smile aimed at him again. He had thought for sure that he had disappointed and infuriated his hero. But here was that man, looking at him like he was gold, and Lance couldn’t help the warmth flooding through his chest. He knew he was doing the right thing.

So, as Shiro poked Blue’s barrier like a tentative dork, Lance stepped back. He smiled up at Blue and, even though he knew they didn’t have a bond anymore, sent out the thought anyway, just in case. I’ll be fine. Thank you, so much. This has been the best experience of my life. Look after him for me. Actually, look after all of them for me. They’re reckless and dense and stubbornly stupid, but they’re my family. They’re our family.

The barrier hissed open, sending Shiro stumbling back with mouth dropping and eyes wider than Kerberos, but Lance just smiled. Now everything was alright. This was right. Keith in Black, Allura in Red, Shiro in Blue, Pidge in Green, and Hunk in Yellow. This was exactly how it was supposed to be. He had finally done the right thing.

“See, what’d I tell you?” He crowed, plastering a giant grin on his face and nudging Adam with his elbow. “Make sure she doesn’t steal him from you, Blue’s a real charmer!”

Red lowered her head to let Allura out, and Lance swallowed down every last particle of emptiness inside him, drawing on his well of joy to perch a glowing smile onto his lips

“Lance, I can’t take Blue from you,” begun Shiro, approaching carefully and slowly as if afraid of sending the tall boy running.

Lance just laughed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and ignoring the bright blue of the hoodie he was wearing.

“Shiro, don’t worry about me! Go take care of that lovely girl instead, would you?”

Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but Lance just curled his hand into a fist and bumped it lightly against Shiro’s chest. He met his hero’s eyes unwaveringly and gave him a smile more genuine than even he had expected. “You’re the only one who can. Okay?”

Shiro swallowed, looking down at the small brown fist pressing right on top of his heart, and let out a shaky breath. Then he gently removed Lance’s hand, stepping back and meeting his friend’s eyes. He knocked his own fist against Lance’s and finally allowed himself to smile fully.

“Got it.”

Lance nodded, his smile widening, and he patted Shiro’s shoulder once before hurrying towards Allura, already summoning the red bayard. Shiro watched him go, his insides curling into iron coils and the soft purring of Blue comforting him inside his mind.

“They grow up too fast, Adam,” he murmured.

“I know,” said Adam simply, a hand gently pushing Shiro’s head onto the offered shoulder, letting the Blue Paladin’s cheek nestle into his brown jacket as Lance handed the red bayard to Allura and enveloped her in a hug. “I know they do.”

Keith waited while the others had filed out of the hangar. Shiro and Adam were holding hands and discussing some sort of date they had planned in a few vargas, Pidge and Hunk chattered at Allura with tips they had picked up from Lance and Keith for flying Red, and Coran trailed behind them all like the proud Space Uncle he was. Lance noticed him hanging back though, and ambled over with a light smile and raised eyebrows.

“And so the intrepid sharpshooter approaches to discern what’s going on in the ship’s resident mullet mind~” he coaxed teasingly, and Keith turned to face him head-on, arms uncrossing and purple stare unflinching.

Lance cocked his head, keeping the smile perched on his lips and rocking his weight forward onto his toes. He was just glad Keith still had Black. He couldn’t imagine losing him again, and he would do anything if it meant keeping Keith from facing the same emptiness inside him. He had made the right choice. “We should probably go adjust those battle plans, huh? I’ll take the ground; I’ve gotten pretty good at hand-to-hand combat, so fear not for the brilliant Loverboy Lance’s survival!”

He clicked a couple of finger guns at Keith, but the boy just kept those beautiful, spiraling, endless purple nebulas fixed on him. It made Lance’s throat tighten. “…What?” He managed.

Keith simply raised both arms, holding them out with palms face-up, inviting and gentle and so quiznaking kind—

Lance stepped forwards and fell into his arms, burying his nose in Keith’s shoulder and slamming his eyes shut as his vision blurred. One of Keith’s hands pressed steadily against the back of his head, the other winding around his back, grounding him. Lance didn’t scream, he didn’t wail, he didn’t even cry. He just trembled, clinging to Keith like a lifeline, whispering out only three broken words.

“Thank you, Keith.”

Keith’s eyes burned painfully at that, and he held Lance like all the world didn’t matter right then, turning his head so his murmur would only be heard by the boy he loved more than the entire night sky with the sun thrown in too. What type of love it was could wait; right now, that love was all Lance needed to know.

“Anytime, Lance.”

Chapter Text

Keith woke up the morning of the strike with a scowl already in full force across his face and thoughts racing with Lance’s hands the night before as they adjusted battle plans. They had been shaking so badly by the end that Keith had taken the pen from him and made him sit down. Lance’s quiet thank you had been a knife through Keith’s heart, but the part that nearly sent him into tears was that Lance still didn’t stop trembling all evening. And it was Keith’s fault. If Keith hadn’t asked Lance to put him on the ground, Lance would never have suggested they do the Lion check, and he wouldn’t be without Red or Blue right now. He wouldn’t have had the light sucked from those boundlessly beautiful blue eyes. Keith had taken one of the greatest things in the universe from Lance, and Lance had thanked him—

A knock rang out at Keith’s door, the quick three beats he had long since identified as Lance filling up his room. Was he really that late?

“Keith, if you don’t open this door in three ticks, I will get Shiro and Adam to help me break it open!”

Nope, Lance was just being Lance.

Keith swung both feet out of bed, nearly slipping on the boots he had tossed carelessly onto the ground the other day, and stumbled to the door blearily.

“What’s going on, Lance?” He asked, unable to suppress the scowl on both his face and his brow.

Lance rolled his eyes fondly when he saw Keith’s expression, squishing the paladin’s cheeks together and making a funny face at him.

“Awww, don’t give me your grumpy cat face first thing in the morning!” He chided, releasing Keith’s cheeks with a laugh when he saw the growl in his brow intensify. “Look, I’ve got to get going with Matt and Adam for the ground crew drop soon. I just wanted to give you this before I left.”

Keith rubbed at his cheeks and yawned as Lance dug into his jacket pocket, noting absentmindedly that he was wearing his old olive one instead of the blue hoodie they had gotten on their shopping trip or his paladin armor. That last thought was like a sword to the heart.

“Here!” Crowed Lance, yanking out a black box and clearing his throat ceremoniously before flashing Keith a wink that kick-started his heart way too early in the morning. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick so you can go back to sleep. Captain Grumpy Mullet Head—”

“Why are you starting there?” Groaned Keith, leaning against the doorway.

“Sir Captain Grumpy Mullet Head!” Intoned Lance even more imperiously, and Keith held up his hands in defeat. “As a token of affection and gratitude, I have seen fit to now bestow this treasure upon your worthy (though mulleted) head!”

Keith would never admit that he was smiling by now as Lance continued the exaggeratedly official voice.

“You have been the best part of my many voyages, and since you were probably sitting in there blaming yourself, I am hereby bringing the internal rage party to an end! Your hairstyle is proof that you have done several things wrong in your life, but this is not one of them. I’m proud of what we did together. So go sail the seven seas and conquer many a planet; I shall always watch your back like an extremely loud guardian angel!”

Lance dropped all facades at that point and just thrust the box at Keith, full-on grinning. “I’ll see you once we obliterate these guys! Show ‘em what it means to be a Paladin of Voltron out there, Team Leader!”

Keith swallowed roughly, reaching out to take the box reluctantly. He could hear the genuine gratitude behind all of Lance’s theatrics, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Lance had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had vaulted over Keith’s walls, given him a sledgehammer and cheered as he knocked down his demons brick by brick. He had helped Keith swing when the weight became too much, seen the potential Keith was too scared to accept, and stood by Keith when even he was too afraid to stand by himself. Lance had never once left Keith behind.

Keith reached past the box, latching onto Lance’s wrist and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Right back at you, Sharpshooter,” was all he could bring himself to say, but he also knew it was enough.

He knew Lance understood him more than anyone else. So he pulled back, took the box, squeezed the calloused hand he loved more than his own, and let him go.

“Keith, I swear, if you look to your right and start sulking one more time, I will call Lance and make him come back just to sit in Black with you!” Snapped Pidge, glaring at him as they headed to their Lions after breakfast.

“I don’t need that, I’m fine!” Replied Keith sharply. “We just usually talk during breakfast, so I got used to it!”

“Well, could you at least stop looking disappointed when you see it’s me and not him?” She complained, and Keith cringed.

“Oh…uh, sorry, Pidge.”

The small girl cocked her head to the side, studying him with a tight mouth and narrowed eyes.

“I’m not really mad,” she said slowly. “But you do know Lance is going to be fine, right? I mean,” she blew out a sigh, knocking a few stray bangs out of her face as she spoke, “of course I’d rather he be with us, but he’s going to be great on the ground. Lance is actually pretty clever, and he’s stronger than you’d think.”

Keith’s hand automatically rose to the necklace Lance had given him, a chain connected to a silver band with a glowing black line running through the metal. Exactly like the one Lance had gotten on their shopping trip but had refused to wear. His heart swelled sharply.

“Lance is my right hand man,” he said abruptly. “He’s going to do great, and we have to do the same. Everyone, get to your Lions!”

Shiro and Allura were down in a couple of ticks, fully armored with bayards drawn and faces set. Shiro took a tick to rest a hand on Keith’s shoulder, that I-know-you’ll-do-great smile in full bloom across his face, and Keith let out a long breath as Hunk scrambled in. Right. He had a job to do. He may as well give himself something to boast about to Lance later when the Re—former paladin came in full of wild tales of combat glory.

“How are we on your side?” Shouted Lance into his headset, sending a flurry of shots into the battlefield and knocking droids down left and right.

“Not great!” Yelled Matt, the distant sound of Adam’s Arabic swearing oddly comforting to the Cuban. “How about with you?”

“We’re making headway!”

Lance took out two more sentries, diving from his hiding spot and rolling to avoid a few blaster shots behind a wooden crate. Wrong move.

The box exploded the tick the lasers made contact, sending shrapnel tearing through Lance’s thin jacket and slicing at his legs. Lance threw his gun up to keep the debris from ripping out his eyes, rolling over his back and coming up in a crouch. Okay, time to get a little crazy.

“Lance, that sounded like an explosion!” Shouted Adam over the roars of combat on his side. “Are you okay?!”

“Just a sec!” Came the short reply, accompanied by the sound of metal fizzling and several loud crashes.

Lance flew at his opponents, flipping over three shots and using the recoil of his own blast to launch himself over the sentries. They spun sharply, and Lance twisted sideways in midair, sending two holes through the robots’ chests. Both collapsed into heaps of smoking metal, and Lance crashed into the button opening up the base doors behind them. Now all they had to do was capture the general inside while Voltron took care of the sky, and that would be one more planet free. Also, ow, slamming into metal hurt a lot more when he didn’t have his armor to shield him.

“Okay, I’m in!” He called, gesturing to the squad of rebels under him that the door was secure. “Do you need backup on your side?”

“Please and thank you!” Shrieked Matt, the electric sizzle of his staff resonating over the comms, and Lance winced.

“Okay, I’ll be right there! Olia, you got this?”

The vaguely dog-like alien gave him a brief nod, and Lance gave her a grateful smile as he dashed into the underbrush, blaster a little light in his hands. Still, he could get used to this. He really hoped Voltron arrived for that air cover soon though, or that fleet of ships giving Matt and Adam trouble might overpower the ground crew.

“Keith, what’s wrong?” Called Shiro, the first to realize that the Black Lion was still in the hangar while the rest of them were hovering in space (well, Allura was actually trying to make the Red Lion stop shooting all over the place, but semantics).

“I don’t know!” Cried Keith, yanking on the controls and hitting every button he could find. “She let me in, but she won’t let me fly her! I’m going to try and connect with her so she’ll tell me what’s happening, you guys go on ahead! Shiro, take the lead!”

“Are you sure? I might be able to help?”

“No, I got this! Just get those guys their air cover!” Replied Keith, toggling the main stick one last time before sitting back with a sigh.

“Okay, radio us if anything comes up!” Decided Shiro, taking off as the others trailed behind him.

Keith groaned, dropping his head into his hands and latching onto his bond with the Black Lion, throwing every ounce of terror and bewilderment and internal screaming he had into it. He had to get out there! They needed him, they needed Voltron! He couldn’t let them down now, not after everything they had all gone through to get to this point! He was supposed to be their Black Paladin, right?!

A soft brown face flashed through his mind, blue eyes glowing as he laughed, that sunshine voice calling him Team Leader crystal-clear. How could he let Lance down now, when he was most depending on Keith?

“Black, just tell me what to do,” he pleaded. “Let me save them! I can’t just—!”

The Black Lion thrummed beneath him, a strange warmth rippling through their bond, as if she was chuckling and shaking her head at her paladin.

Then the base of the cockpit beside him hissed open.

“They just keep coming!” Shouted Adam, nailing two more droids with electric arrows and watching them sizzle with lightning for a solid three ticks before they face-planted into the ground.

“This is crazy, even for these guys!” Agreed Matt, whipping through sentries like a firestorm and leaving piles of metal fingers, heads, and chest plates strewn behind him.

The sky was filled with black ships, descending towards them again after one of their teammates had obliterated the first wave with a rocket launcher. They only had three of those though, not nearly enough to take out the massive swarm of death bearing down on their heads.

“Matt, arm down!” Warned Adam, and the younger man was barely able to jerk his hand out of the way before a flickering arrow whizzed past him.

“Adam, if you accidentally electrocute me—!” He warned, the slightest smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and the bespectacled archer simply shrugged.

“No promises, Holt.”

“Ugh, you are such a—”

A blast of purple crashed into the ground just behind Matt, exploding in a spray of flinty rocks and dust. The dirt split down the middle, the shock wave ripping through the air and crashing into Matt like a diving airplane. Matt threw up his arms, desperately shielding his eyes as his feet were torn from the ground and he was hurled through the air, bouncing off the rocky terrain and sprawling onto his side a few feet away.

“Matt!” Screamed Adam, leaping out from the underbrush and racing towards his limp comrade. “Come on, we need to get out of the line of fire!”

As if to prove his point, a laser cut into the ground behind him, and Adam barely had time to curl around Matt before rocks were tearing at him like daggers and the blast of wind nearly ripped him from his crouched position. Dust consumed his vision, seeping into his lungs and choking him as his bow creaked warningly beside him. The low hum of a fighter craft filled his ears, and Adam tried to squint through the cloud enough to get a glimpse of it; he might just be able to take it down if it was small enough—

“HIT THE DECK YOU TWO!” Roared a familiar voice, and Adam threw himself on the ground entirely on instinct, covering the smaller man beneath him as best as he could.

A shrieking sound rang out behind them, growing louder as it passed straight over their heads, and Adam risked a glance up. A rocket. Oh no.

“Stay down!” Shouted Lance, leaves cracking as he tore straight through them and leapt in front of Adam and Matt.

He raised a large metal shield, already cracked and formerly discarded, and braced himself between his comrades and the blast.

Black let out a resounding roar, rising on her haunches and throwing back her head to the point that Keith was nearly sent tumbling over the headrest.

“Whoa! Black, what are you—”

The Lion bounded out of the hangar, tearing right through the closed door and flinging herself into space. She flew faster than Keith had ever seen any Lion move, urgency and fear rippling through their link along with one word that even Keith could pick out amidst the overwhelming emotional overload. Lance.

Adam only knew the rocket slammed into the fighter ship because of the deafening explosion that consumed the world around him in fire, whistling air so sharp it could cut, and stones transformed into bullets. Lance knew because the shield became searing hot and he was nearly blown off his feet, barely able to angle the shield so it could cover his comrades’ heads as he struggled to remain in his crouched position. The pressure and heat were white-hot pain, the rocks whipping into the already half-destroyed metal were demons intent on destruction, and the wind was tearing all the air from his lungs in a neverending stream of screw you.

Lance dug his heels into the ground and held the shield in place, the crack widening and splitting further down the shield with each blow, the dust cloud washing over them in a choking fog, and the tip of the ship’s wing sliced through the metal protecting Lance, ripping into his cheek and just barely missing his ear. Lance gulped down dust and fire.

A chunk of shrapnel split the shield in half, nicking Lance’s leg as it passed, and Lance held the two sides together for all he was worth, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting off the flames just outside. He just wanted to be able to breathe already!

That was when the shock wave hit.

Lance was blasted off his feet, his body going weightless as wind shrieked in his ears and each half of the shield was ripped from his arms like they were nothing more than toys. He carefully forced one eye open.

Sharp spires of blue filled his vision, and Lance jerked his arms up instinctively, pain rippling through his bones like blasts of lava. He slammed headlong into the prickly tree, twigs raking at his face, and purple crystals reminiscent of leaves tearing into his jeans. A branch raked at Lance’s arm and he twisted to the side to avoid it, smashing straight into a thick blue bough and sending black spades dancing across his vision. He crashed into the loose dirt with a THUD, blowing all the breath and dust from his lungs and reducing him to a coughing mess.

“Lance!” Screamed Adam, braced around Matt so that the leftover shock wave slammed him across the back and nearly flung him off the unconscious freedom fighter.

“Alive!” Came the lighthearted reply, though Lance’s voice sounded like someone had raked stones over his larynx. “Be there in a sec!”

“Stay back, I’m going to get Matt out of here!” Shouted Adam, flipping the smaller man over his shoulder and dashing for the tree cover.

Lance drew his feet beneath him, breath grating against his throat and his swallows like knives, rising to a swaying/standing position and picking up his discarded blaster. He would provide whatever support he could until Voltron got there.

“Faster, faster, faster!” Urged Keith, despite having long overtaken the other Lions and explained over the comms that Black had suddenly reacted to him again.
It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was the best he could manage right then.

Black thrummed with fear beneath him, rippling through space like she was one with the stars, and Keith felt an immense power building in her stomach, something he had never sensed in all his time with her. Like she was about to be her true self for the first time in…well, ever.

Lance dove out of the trees, barely managing to keep his feet, and shot four bolts in quick succession at the sentries moving to pursue Adam and Matt. A line of blood trickled from his split cheek, his arms were stinging from holding the shield against an explosion for so long, and his right leg was annoyingly torn up from the fall through that sharp tree. So he kept firing.

Adam raced past the teen, lowering Matt carefully behind their lines and turning just as a fighter craft tore out of the dust and careened towards Lance.

“Hermano!”

He snatched Matt’s staff from the ground and swung it in an arc into Lance’s stomach with a gut-wrenching THWACK. He winced as Lance’s eyes went completely blank, irises glazing over at the blow. It did work though; Lance was sent sprawling back into the tree cover with him and Matt, forcing the fighter craft to swoop overhead.

Lance was less pleased with this success. Much less pleased. He landed flat on his back for the second time in five dobashes, air shoved viciously from his lungs as he barely managed to protect himself from a concussion, and he felt about ready to throw up. But Adam was beside him in a tick, checking his pulse and murmuring his name insistently, glasses cracked nearly in half. Just like after that one simulator run……

“I’m here,” croaked Lance, catching Adam’s hand and squeezing it with a smile. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“You are not!” Snapped Adam, bracing his hand on Lance’s chest to keep him from rising. “Take a breather, I’ll keep these guys off our backs. Okay, hermano?”

Lance grimaced, the cut on his leg throbbing and the burns on his arms searing now that the adrenaline was dying off.

“Alright, alright, hermano.”

Adam smiled warmly at that, brushing Lance’s bangs out of his eyes briefly before kicking his bow back into his hand and diving into combat. Lance groaned, the rustling of the wind in the leaves surprisingly loud now that the aftershock had passed through. Dios mios, he was never using one of those stupid rocket launchers again unless his life depen—

CRASH!

Keith didn’t know why Black was insisting on descending into a forest where he couldn’t see if he was about to crush his comrade or not, but he just decided to trust the giant magical semi-sentient robot cat and land there.

Big mistake.

They missed Lance by maybe an inch, crushing the sentries that had been creeping up on him from behind, and also nearly squashing the tall boy. He shrieked, rocketing to his feet and nearly falling right over again, whipping his blaster towards Black and making the lion grumble about never protecting him again and other nonsense. Keith just grinned and leapt from his seat.

“Lance!” He shouted as the ramp lowered, the rest of Voltron ripping through the lines of ships attacking overhead in a cacophony of explosions.

“Keith?” Nearly choked Lance. “What are you doing?! They need you up there!”

“Yeah, they do!” Replied Keith, a smile playing on his lips as he raced down the ramp, extending a hand to the bewildered fighter. “So shut up and trust me!”

Lance spluttered indignantly, fingers immediately wrapping around Keith’s and stride opening to match his as they tore up the ramp. Black closed immediately, straightening as both eyes flashed a molten gold, and the two boys raced into the cockpit.

The cockpit with two glowing black seats and one control stick between them.

“Keith, where are you?” Called Shiro, barely twisting to avoid a blast of enemy fire. “Did you make it here okay? Is Black still responding?”

“If you’re here, get in the sky!” Screeched Pidge, barrel rolling under an ion cannon and shooting through a squadron of fighter ships. “We need backup now!”

“Uh, Keith? You’re alive, right?” Asked Hunk after a tick of static, headbutting a battleship and shielding Shiro as Blue twisted a little too far for him to fully control.

“Keith, please confirm that you have landed safely!” Cried Allura, accidentally shooting past her target; Red was much more nimble than she was used to. “If you can fly, we would greatly appreciate your support!”

There was no answer, and the ion cannon begun charging again, a flock of fighters looping around Shiro as he tried to bat them away. He wasn’t sure how to handle Blue; she wasn’t as bulky as Black or as strong, but she was nimble in a strange way. It wasn’t uninhibited like Red, more like someone with complete control over every move she made, like a gymnast or ballerina. Shiro was more of a power-your-way-through kind of guy, and though he was adjusting fast, he was also in the middle of battle!

“Shiro, cannon to your right!” Warned Allura, sending a stream of fire through a battleship and trying to get her feet on the ground with Red’s controls.

“Thanks, Princess!” Replied Shiro, whacking an attacker out of the way with his tail and curving to shoot another, fingers taut around the controls.

A blast slammed into Blue’s side, another catching her paw and throwing Shiro off balance. The Lion flipped over backwards, trying to get her paws beneath her again, and Shiro bit the inside of his cheek. If he could find her balance once more, then maybe—

“Shiro! Cannon, now!” Screamed Allura, overshooting the cruiser and narrowly avoiding getting squashed by a battleship.

“Got it!” Shouted Shiro, gunning the blasters and shooting himself backwards into a series of spins, flips, and turns that were all still within the range of the ion cannon.

Okay, so maybe he needed a bit of practice with Blue first…

“Shiro, look out!” Yelled Hunk, plowing Yellow into the smaller Lion and knocking her out of the way just as the cannon fired.

“Hunk!” Cried Shiro, yanking at the controls to try and right Blue, to try and reach his fri—

“I got you, big guy!”

A flash of black crossed the battlefield, slicing through the ion cannon like it was cream and tearing into the surrounding ships in a blaze of purple. One battleship made the mistake of turning to get closer, and a line ripped itself through the sentry-manned cruiser, the Black Lion zipping across the sky like a tornado of blades. Her claws were now elongated and lined with a purple glow similar to the jawblade, which had become a fully-fledged sword extending on either side of her mouth. Her wings were raised, though not extended, and she appeared slightly larger, slightly slimmer. She was like a giant metal panther with glowing fangs and claws, her golden eyes promising the swift destruction of any who crossed her path.

“Whoa, Keith! Nice upgrade!” Cheered Pidge, blowing a squad of fighters out of the sky to her right.

“Thanks, Pid—”

“Why, thank you, Pidgeotto!”

There was a long moment of silence across the roaring battlefield, and then all Lions roared at once while their paladins let out a chorus of confused shrieking, and Lance and Keith just laughed until they couldn’t breathe.

“Shall we, partner?” Asked Keith then, gesturing with his head towards the flock of ships outside.

Lance grinned until his face practically glowed, sunshine incarnate, and his matching necklace flashed in the purple light of the Black Lion. Tear streaks of pure gratitude were still drying on his cheeks. Their fingers curled a little tighter around one another over the joystick.

“Let’s light ‘em up, partner!”

Chapter Text

“You can co-pilot a Lion?!” Shrieked Pidge, slamming her hands down on the table and leaning across to gape at the Black Paladins.

“Guess so,” said Keith, unable to hide the smile pulling at his every word. “When I was trying to get Black to tell me why she wouldn’t let me fly her, a chair rose across from mine and she sent me an image of Lance.”

“How did you get her to start responding, though?” Asked Hunk, tilting his head and studying his friends. “Lance was on the ground the whole time it took us to get there.”

“She sensed that Lance was in danger and came to rescue him,” explained Keith, glancing down with a smile that couldn’t be anything but fond for the boy slumped in his lap, fast asleep even through Pidge’s shouting.

Lance had been ushered into a healing pod the tick they came back (for what Keith swore was the twentieth time since they had come into space!) but the injuries had healed mercifully quickly. Apparently, as Coran had commented when Lance tumbled out after only half a varga, if a cryopod saw a patient often enough, they stopped having to do initial scans because they memorized that person’s individualized anatomy. Keith had been sorely tempted to throw his co-pilot out of the airlock for that one.

Lance had offered to come with him and help with explanations (since Keith had refused to budge from beside the cryopod the entire time, only glaring at his teammates when they tried to get him to eat or change out of his armor or just have some water, Allah above Keith!) and the two had sat next to one another in the lounge to explain. Five dobashes in, Lance was leaning against Keith’s shoulder. At ten, he pretty much let Keith do the talking (which he sucked at, so thanks, Lance!) and by the time fifteen dobashes had passed, he was fast asleep on Keith’s shoulder. That being said, one of Keith’s most iconic movements was the shrug, and when that happened for the third time, his lap suddenly became obscured by a mess of chocolate-brown locks and freckly skin. He totally didn’t start blushing until the entire room gave a euphony of coos either!

Now, nearly ten dobashes later, and they were finally coming to the end of the story (which, for some reason, had included how Lance got them matching 2-for-1 necklaces on their last shopping trip).

“So, do you have two sets of controls or something?” Asked Pidge, letting out a long whistle as she flopped backwards, chin resting in her head and eyes scanning her teammates as if trying to crack them for secrets.

“No, we’ve got one stick for piloting between us,” replied Keith, one hand coming down to smooth Lance’s tangled hair out of his face. “All the other controls are spread out, so Lance would be handling communications more, and I would be taking care of the engineering side.”

There was a long silence, and Keith took the opportunity to cover Lance’s ears while his teammates’ brains processed what he had just said. Silence in this Castleship was always followed by screaming of some kind.

“YOU TWO WERE DOING ALL OF THAT FANCY FLYING TOGETHER?!” Shrieked Pidge, Hunk, and even Allura.

“Dude, those were some crazy moves!” Cried Hunk, eyes uncomprehendingly wide.

“But you two never disagreed over a movement choice?” Asked Allura, sinking back into her seat and fanning herself as if the shock had melted her mind. “There was no jerks or stutters throughout any of the battle!”

“Was one of you doing all the flying while the other ran communications?” Guessed Pidge, adjusting her glasses and frowning. “The stick would have to be very wide for you to both fit your hands on top of it.”

Keith growled at that, but for the sake of the boy still miraculously asleep in his lap, decided against getting into a screaming match.

“Black linked our minds,” he explained. “I think she’s got some sort of control over time the same way Red does over fire and Blue with water. That’s how she was able to teleport Shiro to that alternate dimension,” he added, nodding with a grateful smile at his brother, who was the only one sitting and listening with a silent grin instead of jumping around and trying to wake up his partner. “Anyway, she sped up Lance and I’s thoughts. So, uh, at one point I thought we should shoot down this battleship, but Lance wanted Black to take care of the one beside us. Our thoughts just sped up so we could make the decision without any delays. And we’re both flying. We just have our hands over one another on the stick.”

He scowled as he said the last part, already prepared for the stupidly smug expressions of his fellow paladins. Aaaaaaaand, yep, there were the triumphant smirks of the entire quiznaking table.

“Heh,” commented Shiro, sipping at his nutrient water. “Good thing you two are already dating or you’d be too much of a gay disaster to be flying.”

Keith sat perfectly still for all of one tick before Lance was abruptly awoken by his pillow leaping off the couch and spluttering indignant denials.

“I—we—no—Shiro! We’re not dating!” He protested as Lance rolled off the couch with a thud.

“Luchar contra mí, Keith.”

“Uh, whoops?”

Lance scowled at his co-pilot, and Keith bent just slightly to offer him a hand. The impish grin that immediately grew on Lance’s face told Keith he had just made a grave error right before a warm hand wrapped around his own. He was promptly jerked off his feet and onto Lance, who proceeded to attack his sides with tickles.

“Lance!” Screeched Keith, though his shout was barely intelligible through a stream of giggles and little shrieks as the two thrashed on the floor.

“Payback, Mullet!” Crowed Lance, trapping Keith with his legs and tickling him mercilessly.

Keith let out a snort from pure laughter, and Lance’s face flushed red at how freaking adorable this boy could be. Then he went back to viciously tickling Keith for waking him up, smile widening as Keith’s cheeks rapidly grew a glowing cherry red from laughing too hard. He wished he could see that more often, not just when the boy was trying desperately to kick Lance off before his stomach began aching.

Adam leaned against Shiro, blowing out an amazed, quiet sigh. Shiro rested his cheek atop Adam’s head, whispering so quietly no one could hear either of them over the shrieking tickle-fest before them.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Adam’s quiet chuckle didn’t escape his notice, and the shorter man nestled a little closer to him.

“Perceptive as ever. Did you know, during that fight, Lance saved Matt and I? He shot a ship with a rocket launcher and used a battered, cracked shield to protect us from the explosion. Even when he was sent flying, he got back on his feet and covered us. He was one heck of a fighter.”

Shiro felt the warmth of pride flood his veins, and he made a note to praise Lance for his resilience later. Adam snuggled impossibly closer again, and Shiro turned his attention back to his concerning partner. “And now he’s on the floor having a tickle fight—”

“I think that’s just called a massacre, Adam.”

“—a tickle massacre with the boy he has a crush on. I just…” Adam blew out a frustrated breath and closed his brown eyes, hiding the specks of blue Shiro had noticed without those glasses blocking his view. “I just don’t get it. He’s a trained warrior, clearly used to battle by now, inventive and quick on his feet, stubborn and protective. But he’s also a teenager who can’t figure out how to tell Keith he likes him, who goofs off with video games, and is better at fashion than a princess? I don’t understand how he can manage to be both,” admitted Adam quietly.

Shiro hummed in acknowledgement, smiling as he ran a thumb over Adam’s knuckles and Lance finally let Keith breathe.

“I don’t know how they do it either,” he said softly. “But each and every one of them has managed to hang on to their kindness. They’re children, and they haven’t thrown that away. It’s true that this is a war, but they’re not soldiers, Adam.”

Shiro settled back against the couch and readjusted his neck so his cheek was resting more comfortably against the soft brown hair that had become curlier since he had left. “Voltron relies on individuality, on being true to yourself. For them, that means being true to a bunch of teenagers. They can’t just become battle-hardened war machines, that’s not who they are. Voltron protects them just as much as they protect the universe.”

Adam pursed his lips, interlacing his fingers with Shiro’s and forcing his shoulders to relax.

“So what you’re saying is he’s the same Lance who would pounce on my back because they had his favorite cookies during lunch?” He joked, but Shiro’s face lit up like a firework.

“Exactly, actually! He just did that to me last movement when Hunk made one of his favorite desserts!”

Adam threw back his head and let out his booming laugh, the merry sound bouncing off the ships and echoing all the way into the hangar. Lance raised his eyes in surprise, flicking them towards Shiro and raising an eyebrow. Shiro just grinned, which turned into a full-on smirk when Keith grabbed Lance’s sides from behind, making the taller boy squeal with laughter as he was assaulted with tickles as well.

Allura looked mildly unnerved by the whole proceeding, so Pidge (being Pidge) leapt on her and soon sent her into a shrieking fit of laughter. Hunk went for Coran, and Adam poked threateningly at Shiro’s sides until the entire ship had somehow gotten engaged in a full-on, several sided tickle war. None were spared, alliances crumbling under tickling pressure, and Pidge accidentally kicked Keith in the back when Hunk caught her off-guard, making Lance collapse in a fit of laughter.

It only ended when all of them were sprawled across the floor, stomachs aching uncontrollably and giggles filtering through their lips like second nature. Lance promptly fell asleep, a soft smile spread across his face, and Keith just shook his head fondly as he scooped the starfish-spread boy into his arms.

“See you all in the morning,” he called with a grin. “If our stomachs are up for it, we’ll have early morning training, so get some sleep!”

Shiro watched him go with a wide smile that wasn’t entirely due to his thoroughly laughed-out lungs. Lance wasn’t the only one who had grown exponentially since his time away. Keith looked like someone had finally given him his light back, and Shiro had a hunch as to who he had to thank for that.

“‘Kay, I’m going to sleep,” he declared, immediately dozing off to the astonished squawks of Adam.

Lance was awoken by a very insistent growling in his mind, nudging and stalking around his cranium like a restless Lion, and glanced at his clock with a bleary groan. Approximately two in the morning.

“Nooooooo,” whined Lance, turning over and stuffing a pillow over his head. “Déjame dormiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir.”

Black huffed in his mind and prodded him insistently until he finally groaned his way out of bed and into his paladin armor. Geezus, his armor was still blue? Okay, he had piloted three Lions now, he wanted his armor fixed!

Grumbling notes to himself to ask Allura about changing that in the morning, he trudged down to Black’s hangar with a yawn that nearly knocked him flat on his back for what would have been the third time in twelve hours! Black seemed more than a little amused at that prospect, and Lance made a face in response.

“Lance?” Whined a voice from behind him, and while Lance normally would have shrieked and spun until he fell over, he was tired enough right then that he actually paused long enough to recognize the voice.

“Early morning for you too, huh Keith?” He replied, half his words obscured by a yawn, but Keith seemed to get the gist of it, though he also looked tempted to shank their Lion right then. “Does she do this a lot? ‘Cause, not going to lie, my sleep isn’t that great already—”

“This is the first time,” interrupted Keith, rubbing at his eyes with a scrunched nose and tiny pout that sent Lance’s heart through the roof.

Dios, what right did that boy have to be this cute at two in the godforsaken morning?

“Great,” decided Lance, willing the blush away from his cheeks. “Well, let’s find out what our Lion wants, huh partner?”

Keith internally groaned as Lance turned, the sleep filling his eyes only making their blue darker and richer, bringing out the stupidly cute freckles dotting his skin and spiking that rolling wave of affection that always overwhelmed Keith when Lance locked eyes with him. It was two in the quiznaking morning, he did not have the emotional fortitude to handle this level of cuteness or love!

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Black was disturbingly excited to see them, dropping her head immediately and extending her ramp to the sides as well so they could climb up without worrying about falling off or letting go of one another’s hand. Wait, whispered Keith’s brain, when did I take his hand? Or did he take mine?

Lance didn’t even notice this as the two climbed the ramp into Black. He had accepted long ago that his feelings, the ones that burned like a firestorm within him, lighting every nerve on fire whenever Keith met his gaze, weren’t a crush. He knew when Keith had been hovering helplessly in front of an ion cannon, he knew when Keith had knocked him flat on his back with sheer relief that they had survived the Kral Zera, and he knew when Keith carried him to the infirmary afterwards that Keith was special to him in a much deeper way than a crush. He knew when Keith danced with him and he got lost in the swirling nebulas of his eyes, he knew when Keith came out wearing his new pink jacket for the first time on the Castle of Lions and sat closer to Lance as if seeking support, he knew when Keith stayed beside him and fought for him through his migraine, and he knew when the beautiful boy had thanked Lance that there would never be anyone else in the world who would make him feel this way. There was no one in all the galaxies who could excite him so much while making him feel safe, who could make him want to bash his head through the wall and kiss that gorgeously stupid face speechless, who could make him feel beyond comfortable with who he was while also wanting to strive to be his best self. And he knew the moment Keith covered his hand with his own over Black’s joystick that nothing could have prepared him for this love.

Lance blinked. How had his thoughts managed to go that far down—oooooooooh, there was Black’s smug as all heck chuckle. Okay, drawing thoughts from him was just cheating!

“So, what do you think they're up to?” He asked, turning to cock his head at Keith and try not to be blown away by his partner’s sheer cuteness.

“N-no clue,” stuttered Keith, his cheeks flushed an even deeper red than they had been during the tickle fight. “Probably tips on two people flying one Lion.”

“Ah, yeah, that’d be nice,” agreed Lance, running a hand through his hair and yawning again. “I mean, we did great because its us, but I bet we could get smoother if we actually knew what we were doing.”

Keith hummed his agreement, and the two crouched into Black’s cockpit, only letting go of one another’s hands to slip into their respective seats. Black didn’t keep them waiting, but both shrieked the moment the Lion popped into their minds. Since when did their Lions speak English?!

“Rude,” hummed Black decisively. “We try to learn our hosts’ native languages before communicating. I do still need to learn Spanish, but I believe this is far too important for me to wait that long.”

“I should learn that too,” agreed Keith so quietly Lance almost missed it, and that all-consuming fire vibrated through every cell in his body again.

Dios, he really loved this boy.

“About two people flying at once,” continued Black, an exasperated fondness creeping into the edges of their voice. “Here is a trick, though I believe it will be automatic for you. Find something that unites you. Something that you two share completely, that is intrinsic to who you are, and to what you wish to do. You managed that naturally during the last battle because of your shared unconditional trust in one another, but it is good to have multiple things to draw on in the heat of combat.”

Lance’s hand found Keith’s, twining with it automatically when she mentioned their trust. Keith squeezed his palm, fingers relaxing now that they were safely in his grasp. A single phrase resounded through the cabin.

“We are a good team.”

Black hummed in agreement, curling around the two in a warm embrace.

“You are,” they confirmed, purring slightly. “Now think about why. What is it about you two that draws you to one another?”

Lance’s chest ached, but he just tightened his hold on Keith and let his mind open slowly, peacefully to his Lion and his partner.

“Keith does nothing by halves. He throws his all into everything, he always has, and he never gives up once he decides to do something. He’s talented but doesn’t take it for granted, he’s kind but not stupid about it, and he’s one of the most loyal people I know.”

Lance gulped, but closed his eyes and jerked open the door of his mind that last extra inch. If there was anyone who deserved his honesty on this ship, it was Keith. “He has an amazing capacity for love.”

Keith was cutting off circulation to his hand by this point, squeezing so hard Lance was positive he would find lines from his thumb later. He wasn’t complaining though. Keith’s hand was soft even when he was trying to crush Lance’s palm.

“Lance never gives up. He believes in people to an absurd degree, and he’s probably going to be the one who finds a way to end this war. He’s…kind of the best of humanity. I don’t think I can imagine anyone else who just…who cares as much as Lance.”

Right, so Lance was absolutely returning the crushing favor now, because he was trying really hard to keep that from bringing tears to his eyes. So he gulped instead and hung on for all he was worth.

“Love,” agreed Black. “You both have an unconditional love for this universe, for your families, and for one another. You will not find people who share that kind of devotion easily. Treasure it in one another.”

Lance felt his heart contract at that last part. He would be happy to treasure Keith forever, flaws and all, not just the parts he found amazing, but that wasn’t his place. That wasn’t his job. This was one love story where his job was to sit on the side and wait for a Prince Charming to come and sweep his love off his feet. It kind of sucked.

“I am now going to fuse your minds for a short period of time,” said Black, curling a little tighter around the two of them. “This way you can get comfortable with having your thoughts connected during missions, and so you will not be separated when Voltron is. Trying to reconnect in the middle of a fight is…troublesome. Early in the morning, your minds are less pliable, and more open to melding. Prepare.”

Lance shoved his Prince Charming thoughts to the very back of his skull (though now that he thought about it, Keith looked more like a Prince Charming type himself), and held onto the overflowing love inside of him that connected him to Keith.

He had expected it to start off slowly, with a slight nudge as Keith’s mind overlapped with his, the two’s memories, their thoughts, and their feelings eventually intermingling as they familiarized themselves with each other’s mindscape.

And in the time it took him to think that, Keith’s mind had dropped onto his own like a freaking meteorite. Thoughts, emotions, images, voices, all of it crashed over him at once. He saw a graveyard littered with roses, a rushing ground beneath him with someone else riding a hoverbike in front, and an unwavering glimpse of a small boy with chocolate skin and blue eyes trying to finish some math worksheet in the dim light of the Garrison’s library. The emotions were like a tidal wave, crushing him under their force as colors swept past his eyes, dotting the graveyard with flashes of scarlet-red and black, painting the deserts and cliffs with bright yellow and orange, streaking the library with thick purple strokes and blinking dots of rose-pink.

“It’s beautiful, Keith,” was out of Lance’s mouth before he could stop himself.

Also, he swore that boy looked familiar.

“Lance? You in here?” Called a distant, half-amused, half-flustered voice, and Lance’s shoulders relaxed instinctively.

“Where else would I be, Knife Boy?” He replied, turning and scanning the long lines of sand surrounding him; somewhere along the way, the landscape had turned into a beach around him. “I don’t see you anywhere!”

Two hands seized his sides from behind then, and Lance widened his stance automatically, one hand reaching back to catch his attacker’s shirt to throw—

“PFFFFFFFT! Keith, no!” Shrieked Lance as the shorter boy tortured his sides with tickles; he didn’t even have to turn around to know Keith was smirking like he had just won first place in a race.

“Don’t turn your back on an enemy,” he teased, and Lance doubled over, screeching with giggles until Keith finally relented.

“Rude!” Huffed Lance, though the effect was somewhat lost when he was breathless from chuckling and a smile was covering his face. “I thought you were my co-pilot! Oh, the betrayal!”

Keith just snorted and plopped down on the sand, eyeing the long stretch of nothingness around them, even as pink lights danced past in a flurry of stars.

“So, what do we do now?” He asked, digging his fingers into the red and yellow mixture beneath him.

Lance didn’t need the bright red fog pouring off of Keith’s shoulders to guess at his quiet panic; Keith had always scowled at mind melds. He hated the idea of letting anyone pop around inside his head, especially after accidentally letting one of his memories leak during one of their team bonding exercises. It hadn’t been that bad, just a fistfight, but Keith had dashed to his room and locked the door for the rest of the day. Shiro had to coax him out for breakfast the next morning, and the Red Paladin had glared at anyone who talked to him for the next three days. He had been more than wary of mind melding or anything related since then. This, with their emotions and memories completely open to one another, hovering at their fingertips, would normally be enough to send Keith sprinting off towards the hills.

But he was staying. Because he trusted Lance as much as Lance trusted him.

“We do whatever we’re comfortable with,” declared Lance, flopping onto his back beside Keith and grinning until his nose scrunched slightly at the beautiful boy. “Want to hear about the time my niece and nephew got into a lightsaber fight that ended with our couch getting set on fire?”

Keith raised an eyebrow, a slow smile creeping over his face as he closed his eyes and let all the tension melt from his shoulders and into the sand.

“Not going to lie,” he murmured as the wind swept away the last of the red fog around them, “that’s a pretty great lead-in.”

The door to the training room opened with that swish so familiar to all of them, and Pidge and Hunk stood. Pidge grinned, dropping her hands to her hips while Hunk sniffled and wiped at his nose. Coran nodded, a smile surpassing any star stretching up into his eyes, and Adam folded his arms with a smirk.

“Looking good, you guys.”

Keith yanked the black helmet off his head, tucking it under his arm and raising his chin with a smile warmer than fire. Lance swept his brown hair out of his face and flashed a cocky finger gun in response, the black of his armor keeping his spine straight and grin wide. Allura stepped forwards with shining eyes, the red at the top of her armor melting into a pink near the base to create a sunset image of one who knew who she was and where she came from. Shiro’s shoulders relaxed, his stance looser and guard lowered in the blue paladin armor, a proud edge creeping into his smile as Keith and Lance stepped forward in unison.

“Thank you, guys.”

“Yeah. Let’s get this party started!”