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Shiro gritted his teeth as liquid fire raced up his left side. A low hiss escaped his lips as his chest, covered only by the thin material of his under suit, heaved a quick breath. Without his top armor, it shouldn’t be that hard, but the shoulder wound from the pirate’s blaster somehow pierced his armor and sunk directly into his flesh.
“You didn’t have to come,” Krolia tsked above him, keeping consistent pressure upon Shiro’s wound. “I requested Keith’s participation in this mission.”
“And as I said, Keith is across the universe on paladin duties.” Shiro grunted when Krolia added another ripped section of her jacket to the makeshift bandages. “Calling him back would have compromised his current mission. I was free, and I-I owe you.”
She shook her head. “You owe me nothing.”
“Ulaz freed me from Zarkon’s prison.” Shiro pushed up and back to resituate himself against the cell wall, despite Krolia’s huff of disapproval. “The Blades have been our closest allies since the start of our campaign, and you—you’re Keith’s family.”
“Hm.” Krolia lifted the bandages slightly to examine Shiro’s wound, but her stern expression gave nothing away. “I do not believe I’ve heard you speak of your family, Shiro.”
Shiro held in another hiss when Krolia pressed down again. “Keith and I spent a lot of time together once he came to the garrison. Movie nights, races through the desert, camping.”
“I asked about your family, Shiro.”
“And I just told you.”
He let his dry but genuine tone convey the truth for him. There was no heat, no need to remind Krolia that he had been close to Keith long before Keith even knew her name.
Krolia blinked, looking down at Shiro’s face to study him herself. After she came to some sort of conclusion, she nodded once and added yet another bandage to his shoulder. “I see.”
“There are others now,” he said in a strained whisper. “Mitch, Sanda, the Holts, the Paladins, of course. Coran. Lotor and his generals. Kolivan and you. It’s not just me and Keith against the universe anymore.”
“No, I suppose it’s not, though I would appreciate if you did not take a blast for me again, Shiro. I would have deflected it with my blade.”
“Perhaps, but you and Keith just found each other again.”
A smirk crept upon her face. “I could say the same for you as well.”
“Touché.”
They sat in silence for a few long moments with Shiro pointedly ignoring his shoulder. Krolia eventually broke it. “Kolivan wants a kit. I personally was against the idea until recently, but I think bringing more warriors into the Blade is…naturally. Necessary.”
Shiro blinked. “Keith’s almost twenty-three. Not, uh, to be presumptuous, but can you still bear kits?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of assimilation. It’s time we put tradition behind us, and family is bound by more than just blood.”
“Makes sense. But just for the Blade? Not for you and Kolivan?”
“I know someone who has already been welcomed into our circle of trust, someone who has been welcomed into our family for some time now and woven into our very fabric.”
Shiro blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t care to interpret, to hope, and then Krolia’s hand came up to cradle the side of his face. “Tell me, Shiro. How are you with blades?”
His voice was strangled by the tears. “Perficient. I’ve formed a tanto knife with the Black Bayard a few times in close quarter combat.”
Krolia leaned over to press her lips to his forehead, holding them there for a long moment like an unspoken promise. When she pulled away, her smile was nothing short of precious. “We’ll get you a longer one. Now, let’s get out of here, shall we?”
Shiro held his hand over the three bands on the outside of his thigh armor and closed his eyes, focusing on the inner most part of himself. It was there, nestled against his soul, that he found Black and through Black, the tie to his bayard.
In a flash of purple light, his bayard was in his hand.
His eyes snapped open to see Krolia’s astonished gaze. “You might want to wait by the door. Our captors will be here in a few.”
Sure enough, the space pirates opened the cell door a few moments later. From his spot on the floor opposite the door, Shiro waved weakly, showing off his glowing bayard. “Looking for this?”
One of the pirates narrowed his eyes and stalked forward. “How did you – ugh!”
Krolia pounced on him from behind while kicking the second captor. A few quick punches and well-placed kicks left them bleeding and unconscious on the floor. When Krolia turned toward Shiro, a blast of blue Altean magic zipped past her cheek and buried in a third captor’s chest. He fell out into the hallway.
Shiro’s bayard shifted into its resting form. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
“Come on.” She crouched down to throw Shiro’s good arm around her neck and over her shoulder. “We need to get to the cockpit and take out the rest of the crew before we get to our destination.”
“Go ahead without me,” Shiro said, teeth clenched in pain. “I’ll just slow you down.”
“Not an option.” With one arm gripping his wrist and the other about his waist, she heaved him to his feet. “You’re coming with me, even if I have to carry you.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks. “Please don’t.”
Krolia still took the brunt of his weight as they wound through the tight hallways of the space cruiser and arrived at the cockpit. Krolia leaned him against the wall, and when they hit open the doors, he laid down suppressive fire as she took out of the rest of the crew. She then brought the hanger up on the screens, finding the precious cargo still in one piece – crates of medicine that had been stolen earlier from coalition forces. The pirates even kept the packages in a refrigerated unit.
“I guess we should hail the Atlas and see what Allura – ”
“Hailing idiotic space pirates who captured a Blade and a Paladin and thought they could get away with it.” Lance’s face appeared on the screen. “Hailing idiotic space pirates. It’s in your best interest to answer before the Red Paladin gets on the line, and if that happens, you might not survive. And no, I’m not kidding.”
Krolia opened the frequency. “We’re fine, Lance. Shiro and I handled the situation and subdued the pirates. You’re welcome to come aboard.”
“Oh, good.” Lance let out a loud breath and looked visibly relieved. “Seriously, though, you do not want to get between a Galran paladin and his pack. Geez – I think he even snapped at Hunk.”
Shiro couldn’t hold back cringe. “Thanks for helping to defuse the situation, Lance.”
“Yeah, no. Nothing can defuse Keith when he’s fused. You should know that better than anyone, Shiro.”
Yeah, Shiro could attest to that.
“Shiro! Mom!” a desperate cry echoed down the hallway, and then Keith rounded the bend, right into Krolia’s awaiting arms.
Shiro smiled and leaned back against the wall, sliding down and resting his injured arm. Blood must have drew a line down the wall, but Shiro wasn’t about to turn and see. Instead, he tipped his head back and let out a sigh, finally allowing his exhaustion to creep up on him. Krolia was here. Keith and the Paladins, too. Shiro could finally relax, so he did.
Shiro returned to reality feeling numb and groggy, eyes fluttering and head spinning. When he tried to move, something clenched harder about his hand, and he cringed through the pain to look down. A familiar black braid of ruffled hair rested upon the white sheets of a hospital bed, hand clenched about Shiro’s metal one. Keith, always there, always by his side. He was dressed in pajama bottoms and one of Shiro’s T-shirts, which was two sizes too big and hung off one of his shoulders. Keith was asleep now and acted on instinct, clutching Shiro’s hand when he shifted.
A dark shadow shifted just over Keith’s head, and Shiro’s eyes followed it to Kolivan, who rose from his perch in the corner to approach the foot of Shiro’s bed.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a soft murmur.
“I’ve been worse.” And he meant it. With a rasped whisper, Shiro added, “You don’t have to stay here.”
Kolivan moved carefully behind Keith, coming closer to the edge of the bed and running his long claws through Shiro’s fringe. “I’m right where I need to be. We all are.”
Krolia and Thace entered the room with two full trays of coffee, drawing Shiro’s attention, and only then did he see Regris, Antok, and Ulaz. Antok was sharpening his knife, while Regris fiddled with a tablet. Ulaz was checking Shiro’s chart and making thoughtful noises in the back of his throat.
“Rest,” Kolivan suggested, his hand upon Shiro’s shoulder already becoming familiar. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
And they were.
The End