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Keith loved his boyfriend. He loved his freckles, his curly hair, and his almost-too-big smile. He loved the way he said ‘I love you’ constantly, and the way he was constantly checking up on him, to make sure Keith was okay. He loved the shy smile that adorned his face when they held hands in public, and the proud screams of ‘That’s my boyfriend!’ when he beat his record of the shortest time beating the training bot.
However, there were also things he didn’t like. They weren’t necessarily irritating, just concerning. Like the way he jumped forty feet above his seat when the ice in his cup fell to the bottom, or how he did everything anyone wanted without care for his own needs. Keith didn’t like when his boyfriend jolted awake from a sound sleep choking from panic, but pushed him away when he tried to help, or when he flinched when Shiro pat him on the back for a job well done.
He hated how he would brush off bruises and cuts from battle without even letting anyone check. He hated how, when the universe was just too overwhelming and Keith was feeling a bit snippish, his boyfriend would curl into himself and duck his head down, only speaking in short, quiet sentences, as if trying to disappear.
Keith never suspected there was anything really wrong with his boyfriend. Sure, he would apologize for absolutely anything, and he practically flew across the room to avoid a playful smack, and if you ever touched his neck without permission his eyes would go wide and he would dig his fingernails into your hand, but people were just skittish sometimes, right?
Turns out there were many things wrong. The most prevalent being the small, frightened child that now was Lance.
Day 1
“Hey, come on out, we gotta check on you.”
Keith laid on his stomach in the storage room, arm outstretched towards a little Lance, who absolutely refused to come near him. The kid was hiding under a desk buried behind boxes, and screamed when anyone touched him. He seemed the calmest towards Keith and Pidge, and most frightened towards Hunk or Shiro; Pidge guessed it was because they were big and intimidating to a child, while she and Keith were the smallest of the team, besides Lance of course.
(Shiro gave her the Dad Voice for that joke.)
After a few hours of pleading and bribing, and even a few attempts to force him out, Lance got too tired and too upset, and gave in. He used what little energy he had left to cry, wordlessly letting them know that he was not happy about his situation at all.
The team still didn’t know if he remembered them, as he wouldn’t answer, and when they asked if he knew his own name, all they got was a crackley stutter that barely sounded like an ‘L’ sound, carrying on for a few seconds, before the boy let out a defeated sigh and didn’t try again. They just assumed that he knew his name, but not theirs.
“What exactly happened?” Allura asked.
“Freaky alien said he needed help but wouldn’t tell us how. They only said that Lance would have to tell us himself, and then, this.” Keith replied. He had his arms crossed over his chest, but tried to keep his expression neutral, in an attempt to keep the boy calm.
“Why would they turn him into a child, though?”
“Hell if I know.”
Day 2
The first time they realized something was wrong was when Lance tried to talk again. He seemed to love talking about this or that as much as he used to, but couldn’t get any words out. They settled for just asking yes and no questions, but even as he got more comfortable with them, he kept his head to the ground, never once making eye contact.
He wouldn’t answer when asked if he knew them either.
Keith became fast friends with the little guy, keeping him occupied and comfortable as possible. It wasn’t easy at times, especially because he was scared of everyone else, but he made do. Lance had a fixation on mermaids and other sorts of monsters, while Keith talked to him about Mothman and Bigfoot.
It wasn’t much, but it brought a few smiles to his face and sparkles in his eyes, so Keith counted that as a win.
Lance began writing messages to Keith, wanting to have a more in depth conversation. His writing was neat and tidy, he took his time to make each word in a perfect row, letting out a panicked whine every time a letter was a bit crooked. Keith tried to reassure him that it was fine, but the boy panicked and grew tears in his eyes, frantically shaking his head, so Keith let him carry on, trying not to let out a sigh every time he had to erase a letter or even start the whole message over.
He learned that Lance was passionate about fantasy creatures, with the boy becoming almost starstruck when the Red Paladin encouraged him to talk about it.
Keith wondered if he was ever given the chance to talk about his interests. Maybe he was just too anxious, afraid to be made fun of.
Maybe he wasn’t allowed to.
Day 3
They set the boy up with an old Altean coloring book and crayons. The pages were wrinkled and yellowed with age, and the markers needed to soak for a few minutes to work again, but he never complained.
(He did need to wash his hands every page, but they couldn’t tell if that was from the book being dusty or not.)
Lance laid on the floor on his stomach, doodling silently. When a new member of the team came in, he would freeze in place for a few minutes, as if waiting for an attack. They pretended not to notice.
“Hey, Lance, why don’t we go have some lunch, hm?” Hunk asked. His voice was quiet and he squatted down a foot or two away, trying to be as small as possible.
The child grunted and got up wordlessly, following behind the others. When anyone got too close, he lifted his upper lip, showing his little teeth in a snarl.
No one tried to touch him.
At the table, Lance sat at the end, next to Keith. Everyone could see how tense he was, and in turn, so were they. They honestly didn’t know how to act around him, his mood swinging right to left.
Right now Lance was shoveling food into his mouth, almost in a frenzy, his grip on the bowl and spoon turning his knuckles white. His eyebrows were scrunched up, and any other time someone would have made a joke about it, mimicking his usual line about getting wrinkles. Now though, they just tried to eat their own lunch in peace, occasionally shooting the boy glances; some of pity, some of concern, and some of almost-disgust at his frenzied mess.
When he finished, he sat with his head down, the same little pout on his face. Lance began collecting everyone’s bowls, hesitating at Hunk and Shiro’s, before quickly grabbing them and taking them to the kitchen.
The others looked at each other, seeming to have a mental conversation. They were all trying to figure out what to do, with no results.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
Day 4
“Baby Lance”, as Hunk has taken to calling him, seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He had told Keith that he woke up from a nightmare and wasn’t able to sleep again, so Keith figured he was tired and overwhelmed, giving him space.
That didn’t seem to be the right thing to do.
Lance reverted back to being afraid of everyone without Keith to protect him. He wouldn’t even shake his head yes or no to questions, and when Shiro accidentally put his plate down on the table to roughly, he gripped his chest and nearly started sobbing then and there.
It was when Hunk put a hand on his shoulder that the dam broke.
The poor thing became hysterical, sobbing and kicking his legs out while screaming apologies over and over again. They tried to calm him, but it ended with Keith taking him to his room to calm down.
“Shh, shh,” Keith whispered. “No one’s mad at you, I promise.” He held the boy in his arms and gently rocked him. He had no idea what was going on, and honestly, just wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t going to leave Lance like this, especially when he was so distraught.
“Lance, what’s going on, hm? Why are you so upset?”
“D-d-di-d… s-s-s-s…” The young boy gave up on what he was trying to say, his head falling on Keith’s shoulder with another wail. Keith only gave another sigh, his eyes closing in defeat.
It was going to be a long day.
Day 5
The day had been going fine; Team Voltron, minus one paladin, had a successful day of training and ‘team bonding’, as Allura, Coran, and Shiro liked to put it (the others called it ‘unnecessarily complicated show and tell’). Lance was (seemingly) content to sit out and draw with one of the Altean tablets they used for documents, not making a peep. When he was done, Hunk lifted the boy in his arms (finally, Lance was getting more comfortable with them) to see the picture, which Lance presented with his eyes downcast, expression stony and blank. There was just a hint of sadness in his eyes, like he was disappointed with his drawing and waiting to be insulted.
Despite everyone’s praise at the… rather crude drawing of the team, all he did was shake his head or shrug, his face slowly becoming more confused as they kept complimenting his artwork.
They wondered why he denied it, wondered why he was so confused, wondered if he had ever been given the luxury of a parent supporting their child’s work.
Growing overwhelmed, Lance deleted the picture, shoving his face into Hunk’s shoulder, little fingers in a death grip on the other’s shirt in an attempt to stabilize himself.
Somehow, the drawing was stuck to the fridge by dinner.
Day 6
The last day, everything came to a head. The last day, the issues became apparent. The last day, everyone finally figured out what was wrong with Lance.
Sure, they suspected. Sure, they had guesses and assumptions. But now, now they finally understood exactly what was wrong. Why he was so quiet, why he avoided them for so long, why Lance hid away and kept to himself, to the point that they had to hunt him down to get him to eat.
It’s different; seeing the consequences of trauma, of abuse, than just hearing about it. It’s different because up close, you can see the fear in someones eyes, see the tears run down their face and their eyes become bloodshot. Up close, you can see every tiny flinch and hear every whimper.
Shiro and Keith fought. Now, they would never lay a hand on the other, not maliciously.
But they could yell.
It never escalated too far, never was too loud that you had to intervene. At least, for most people.
Lance was different. Lance was terrified the minute they started arguing and raising their voices. If someone paid attention, they could see the tears welling up in the boy’s eyes.
And Lance, the poor, sweet boy, got between them. He got between them, and started yelling back. Started yelling at Shiro, don’t hurt him! Go away! Started wailing on his chest with his little fists, pushing the other man away from Keith as hard as he could.
Trying to protect him.
Everyone was at a standstill, just watching, too im shock, too heartbroken, to stop it.
Until someone did, someone picked the boy up, still in hysterics, and took him away.
The others stared, stared at the spot he was just in, sadness in their eyes.
Day 7
When he woke up, Lance was big again. At first, he was confused. Wondering where these memories, albeit fuzzy, came from. As he came to himself, he realized just how much time had passed, and slowly remembered what happened in the past week.
He realized that everyone knew; everyone knew his secret, and his mask was broken.
And he was scared.
Scared of what they would say, what they would think of him now. Would they think he was incapable? Unstable? Unfit to be a paladin, unfit to protect the universe, unfit to be a member of Voltron.
He sat there, frozen in fear, for God knows how long, before he heard a knock at the door.
He took a breath, steeled himself, and got up. Putting on his mask, desperately holding the pieces together, trying to keep that fake, plastic smile on.
When he opened the door, he saw Keith, his wonderful, protective, supportive boyfriend. He saw the softness in his eyes, the love, covering up the pity he held for the boy.
Keith spoke, “Hey,”
“Hi.”
“Do, uh, do you wanna talk? About… stuff?”
Lance took a breath. A big, deep breath, and nodded.
“Yeah, I think I do.”