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Keith sighed as he stared out into the stars. He’d come up to the observatory to be alone after the disastrous team meeting. Christmas gifts?! What did he know about giving anyone a gift. Another lengthy sigh stretched from his mouth and he pressed his forehead to the view panel. He wished he was out there, in space, flying. He knew what to do then. Put him behind the stick and he could fly anything and never doubt that he knew what he was doing. Put him in the room with humans and emotions and “team stuff” and he always felt wrong, off, behind - just lost.
It wasn’t that he’d never had Christmas. He’d had eight awesome Christmases with his dad. Well, at least the five he remembered were awesome, and he assumed the previous three had been as well. There had been trees and presents and Santa and friends and parties. He’d had all of that stuff. He even went with his dad to hand out presents to less fortunate kids at the firehouse.
That had all ended when his dad died. There had never been another one of those Christmases. There were okay Christmases, ones where he got a present from the children’s home or from a donation like the ones he used to hand out. That first year at the home, before he’d been to the first foster family, he’d hoped Santa would still find him. There had been a lot of laughter and mocking that he believed in something so stupid, and it had been made very clear that there was no such thing, but a man in a suit had still come that year and he’d gotten a candy cane and a baseball mitt.
There were a lot of not okay Christmases that passed just like every other not okay day in those homes. Dark places with dark words and dark memories. Some of them celebrated Christmas, just not for the foster kid. There were two homes like that, where the real kid opened present after present and he was supposed to watch and be happy for them. He’d at least gotten to eat the big Christmas meal with them. There were other homes that just didn’t celebrate at all. One where Christmas had just been an excuse to drink more than usual and he’d spent that Christmas night in the hospital; though he’d gotten a present there, so it could have been worse.
He banged his head against the panel. Who was he kidding? Christmas had sucked.
When Shiro had come into his life, Keith had his first real present in years. The first year he’d just been shocked. It hadn’t even occurred to him to buy anything for Shiro, who’d gotten him a new satchel for school. Shiro hadn’t seemed angry that Keith hadn’t gotten him a present. He’d been really happy that Keith liked the bag. He’d noticed that Keith’s had holes in it and wanted him to have a nice one. Keith remembers feeling so shocked, and gently opening the paper and staring in complete awe at the leather bag. He hadn’t been able to hold back his tears, but the smile on Shiro’s face had been totally worth the embarrassment.
The next Christmas was the one after he’d moved to campus. Shiro had gotten him out of the last foster house he’d ever have to live in and he was happily living in the dorms. He’d expected that Shiro would get him something and he’d wanted to do something nice for him, but. Well, he’d never bought a present before - ever. He was young when his dad died and he’d made stuff for him, but he’d never had money to buy anything. He didn’t have any money now, either. He’s not sure how he came to the conclusion that he could shoplift a gift for Shiro and get away with it; but, well, he didn’t. Shiro had marched him back to the store and made him return it and apologize. The store owner had been a very kind old woman who seemed to read the situation and had given him the gloves anyway, but it kind of set the precedent for future gift giving. The next Christmas he’d gotten Shiro tea, which Shiro somehow burned. The following Christmas he’d gotten Shiro a Christmas tie - complete with a Santa with a sequin suit dancing below a disco ball with flashing lights. Shiro hated it, but pretended to like it anyway. And then the Christmas after, Shiro was gone.
And now it was Christmas in space. He knew that Lance and Pidge and Hunk were missing their families and missing Earth. He knew that it being the holidays was making it worse. So he got why Shiro suggested celebrating Christmas. He just wished it hadn’t escalated so much. There were to be decorations, and a special meal, and (of course) presents - a gift exchange. He’d sort of... freaked out when it was brought up and pointed out that they didn’t have much money or places to get stuff. Allura had assured him that they had the money, and that they could stop at a market on a friendly world. Shiro might have noticed his panic and made the suggestion that they draw names; then, each person would only need to procure one present. Keith had thought that was a great idea: then he’d only ruin one person’s Christmas with a horrible present. He had hoped that he’d get Shiro, cause at least he wouldn’t expect much, but luck was not on his side. It was a secret drawing and they weren’t supposed to tell who they had until their party. Keith had drawn a paper and unfolded it carefully... Coran. His paper said Coran. What was he supposed to get Coran?! He didn’t know what the guy liked or what he did when he wasn’t making weird food or weird training exercises or patching them up with weird medicines. What did Coran like?
He gave his head one last bang against the view panel, maybe it would seem better in the morning. Maybe he’d come up with an idea? Yeah, and maybe he’d magically become a normal person that knew how all this stupid stuff worked.
The next morning, Keith found himself no closer to knowing what to do. He sighed. Patience yields focus. He’d figure it out. He just needed to be patient and he’d figure it out… Sure, just like with Shiro. He rolled his eyes and slipped out of bed. If he spent the day with Coran he might get some ideas, but he couldn’t be obvious about it since it was supposed to be a secret. He headed to the shower with a towel and the 3-in-1 body wash that Lance called a sin. The shower was over in the blink of an eye, and he tossed the towel into the bin. He blinked as it occurred to him that someone must be doing the laundry. Soon after they’d first arrived, the Paladins had been instructed to leave dirty laundry in the marked bins. He’d never questioned it, but his fresh laundry would always show up in his room: towels, uniforms, and all. Huh? Was this one of the things Coran did around the castle?
Leaving the laundry mystery behind, Keith headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Some nights before, Hunk had joyously announced there would be muffins and pancakes from then on. Apparently, Coran had helped Hunk in finding appropriate substitutes in the castle pantry for flour, sugar, and whatever else Hunk needed for baking. They’d all been enjoying breakfast a lot more since then. Coran had promised that at the next market, he’d take Hunk around the raw goods and ingredients section and help him find suitable replacements for other meals. Keith took his usual place at the table next to Shiro, scooping three pancakes onto his plate.
“Keith, you have got to try the new syrup!” Lance shoved a bottle at him, full of some red liquid.
He squinted at it suspiciously. Experience told him that a statement like that could not be trusted.
“I’m not trying to poison you!” Lance sounded offended. “It’s good, Hunk made it. Tastes like strawberry.”
Keith raised a skeptical eyebrow and looked over at Hunk who nodded, looking excited for him to try. Cautiously, he poured just a little bit on the edge of his plate. It had the consistency of syrup. He cut off a bit of pancake with his fork and dipped it. As he chewed- oh. Oh. He looked up with a sticky smile and nodded. It did taste like strawberry.
“It’s good,” Keith announced, pouring a generous amount over his pancakes.
“Coran told me you liked strawberries, but of course he didn’t know what one tasted like so we went through the fruit in the pantry. There are so many and they’re all preserved in this huge awesome storage system,” Hunk gushed, “and then, after like three varga we found this purple fruit that smelled like one. Then when I cooked it - it turned red - so it was perfect!”
Keith turned, looking at Coran in surprise. The older Altean had smiled fondly at Hunk all through the story, but upon noticing Keith he’d thrown a smile and a wink his way.
“I remember you mentioning it being one of your favorite foods during a Paladin bonding session a few quintants ago.” Coran’s mustache bobbled as he talked. He seemed pleased. “Hunk has been working so hard to make food that everyone enjoys.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Coran. He loves to cook!” Lance joked, elbowing Hunk. “Creating stuff and playing in the kitchen is his fun time.”
While Hunk laughed and smiled, Keith watched Coran as the Altean’s eyes twinkled. He didn’t think Coran had been fooled at all.
Later that day, after they’d finished a round of training with the gladiator as a team, Keith was getting some extra practice in with his sword.
“Your form is improving,” Coran commented from the booth high above.
Keith startled and had to drop low to avoid a swing from the bot but he quickly recovered, knocking its legs out from under it with a smooth kick and striking the finishing blow, deactivating it.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to throw you off,” Coran apologized over the speaker.
“No, it’s okay, just didn’t realize you were there. It’s good practice.” Keith wiped the sweat from his face. He walked to the bench and pulled a hydration pouch out of a little Altean refrigerator. It was always stocked. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, I’m just programming up tomorrow’s training. Allura has something new in mind to try and I’m adjusting a program the previous Paladins seemed to really enjoy,” Coran happily answered.
“Do you fill the hydration pouches?” Keith asked as he sipped on his own.
“No, no, now that would be a boring task. There’s a station near the water treatment that fills as many as I program. Then I just drop them off in the proper spots when I make my rounds.”
“You do a lot,” Keith pointed out.
“Nothing I can’t handle, after all someone needs to look after you lot. Besides that, Number Three has been rather helpful. He’s taken over several of the cleaning tasks, and Number Two cleans the kitchen when he cooks - which is a relief because he does tend to make a mess.”
“I could help with the water. I mean, I come here a lot?” Keith offered, looking hesitantly up to the control booth, almost expecting to be turned down.
“Why, that would be most helpful! Thank you, Number Four!”
Keith nodded to himself. Even if he was going to ruin the poor guy’s Christmas, at least he could help him out a bit.
Shiro was in one of the bridge-adjacent strategy rooms, looking over maps when Keith found him. He was already familiar with Keith’s abysmal gift giving abilities, maybe he would have some advice, beyond “patience yields focus.”
“Keith, how you doing?” Shiro gave him a nod as he looked up from the maps.
“Okay.” Keith shrugged and wrapped his arms across his chest.
“Uh-huh. Are you okay with the Christmas celebration? You seemed worried before.” Shiro had raised an eyebrow at Keith’s expression; he could read Keith better than that.
“Shiro, you know I’m lousy at giving gifts,” Keith huffed.
“I know? Why would you think that?” Shiro asked, pasting a faux-puzzled look to his face.
“Shiro, I know I suck at giving gifts. I mean the gloves? The tea? I'm well aware.” Keith frowned, head bowed.
“I wore that tie you got me,” Shiro offered.
“Because you’re stupidly nice, not because it was a good gift!” Keith exploded. “I’m horrible at it and I’m going to ruin someone’s Christmas!”
“Keith,” Shiro placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders and waited until Keith met his eyes. “You are not going to ruin anyone’s Christmas and, while I’ll admit the gloves were a rocky start, I have enjoyed all of your gifts. Just get them something you think they’ll like and if you try they’ll know that and that will make it a good gift.”
“Sure it’s the thought that counts… Right.” Keith looked away. It was a nice sentiment, but he had a lot of trouble believing that it was true.
“Keith, if I bought you a red jacket, would you like it?” Shiro asked.
Keith frowned and nodded, “Sure, you know I like red.”
“But do you need a red jacket?” Shiro continued to prod.
“No, why are you asking, did you draw my name?” Keith looked back up.
Shiro sputtered for a moment before shaking his head with a smile and continued, “No, this is hypothetical. So, even though you already have a red jacket that you love and wear all the time, if I bought you a red jacket you’d like it?”
“Yes?” Keith wondered if Shiro was getting enough sleep.
“Don’t you see? That would be a bad gift because you love your jacket and you’re not going to wear another one, but you’d still like it. Why?” Shiro looked hopefully at him.
“Because it’s red?” Keith offered.
Shiro closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Because you bought it for me?” Keith tried again, upset that he was frustrating Shiro.
“Yes.” Shiro opened his eyes and met Keith’s. “And anyone else will like whatever you get them, because you got it for them. You thought of them and got them something, okay?”
Keith nodded. He still wasn’t sure that really worked. After all he loved Shiro like a brother so that kind of made it different. Family was different from other people.
“Good. Now stop worrying about it. We’ll stop by a market tomorrow.” Shiro went back to his maps and Keith wandered out, still relatively sure he was going to ruin Coran’s Christmas.
Lunch was weird. It was tense, but a sort of happy, excited tenseness. There was a lot of giggling, and whispering, and people looking at people. Keith knew that they were probably thinking about gifts and what to get people, but the longer it went on the more tension he could feel building. His shoulders pulled in and every bite tasted like sawdust. He knew they weren’t talking about him. It wasn’t like that here, but he couldn’t help the all too familiar feeling of being the odd one out.
“So,” Coran started loudly, making nearly everyone at the table jump. “I sense some gift planning. We will be going over what to expect at the market after lunch. Including some proper etiquette for this particular sector of space. Number Three, I expect you to pay close attention.” Coran nodded significantly at Lance who had inadvertently proposed to five different aliens at the last market and caused quite a ruckus when they all decided to fight to the death for the honor of marrying a Paladin.
Keith smirked at the sheepish expression on Lance’s face. He really hadn’t meant to propose, but Coran had warned them about that particular custom at their meeting before they even left for the market. Keith found himself relaxing and finishing his lunch as Hunk and Pidge ribbed Lance about the episode and Lance accepted the teasing in good humor, commenting that he couldn’t help being so irresistible.
Keith wondered what they were getting for each other. Maybe if he asked he would have some better ideas of what to get for Coran. The mustached man was smiling indulgently at the banter from the three. Keith looked over and found similar expressions on Allura’s and Shiro’s faces. Huh. Coran had done that. He wondered if maybe he hadn’t been the only one feeling uncomfortable at the quiet table. He looked back at Coran with renewed appreciation. He didn’t feel a whole lot better about the whole gift thing (if anything he felt worse), because he was seeing more and more just how important Coran was and how much he did for them.
After the briefing, Keith trailed along after Hunk toward the kitchen. Hunk had said something about making some tea and Keith had asked if he could join him. Hunk had seemed surprised but pleased. Of the other Paladins, Pidge was probably the easiest for him to understand (their personalities a far better match), but Hunk was by and far the easiest to approach. Keith was sure he wouldn’t make fun of him for his questions. Pidge would help, but she would also mock him mercilessly for his weakness.
“So, what kind of tea do you like?” Hunk asked as he started pulling down ingredients.
“Um, Earl Grey.” Keith blushed. His beverage of choice had made him a target for teasing back at the Garrison. Most everyone had drunk coffee, but Keith was not a big coffee fan. Shiro drank tea too, though, so who cared what the others thought.
“Nice choice.” Hunk hummed to himself as he mixed a few things together. “This should be close. It will need to steep about five minutes to really get the bergamot flavor. I always go for the Chai myself.” Hunk’s own beverage was prepped with equal efficiency and he brought both cups to the counter where Keith was sitting. “I’m glad to know you’re also a tea fan. Pidge and Lance are both coffee drinkers and neither of them will try.”
“Shiro likes tea too,” Keith pointed out as he sniffed the cup and then took a tiny sip. It was good.
“Hmm...we’ll have to invite him next time.” Hunk took a drink from his cup and smiled. “Always calms my nerves.”
“Yeah. It’s warm, it’s always cold in the castle,” Keith added conversationally. He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic.
“So, what is it you want to ask me?” Hunk smiled over at him.
Keith almost spit out his tea, “What?”
“Tea is relaxing and warm and yet you are fidgeting and nervous. Something’s up. Spill.” Hunk gave him his full attention.
“I… um… I don’t know what to get for my secret Santa gift.” Keith sighed and stared into his cup.
“Oh, well, do you know some things the person likes?”
“Not really.” Keith slumped even farther.
“Well, is something they do that you could, you know, get them something that helps… you know what this isn’t working… What if I tell you what I’m doing and see if that helps?” Hunk offered.
Keith perked up and looked over, “Okay.”
“So, don’t tell of course, but I got Pidge. I decided that since she’s, like, crazy into video games, I would make one on the Altean computer for her,” Hunk whispered.
“That… that’s a good idea.” Keith nodded. He couldn’t do anything like that though. He didn’t have any computer skills to mention, and he wasn’t sure Coran liked games.
“So, if you can figure out a hobby or something, maybe you can get them something like that?” Hunk offered.
“I, yeah, I guess, I’m not sure he has a hobby.” Keith huffed.
“Well, based on who I know other people have and assuming it’s not me cause I have hobbies, I know who you have. I’m not sure what he does for fun. He’s always working.” Hunk patted Keith on the shoulder. “On the other hand, I think you could hand him a pile of mud and he’d find some reason to be excited about it. Go with your gut. I’m sure he’ll like whatever you do.”
“Really?” Keith frowned.
“Um, yeah. Coran is, like, the most easy going person and he loves presents. I brought him a cup of soup that I was trying out the other day and you’d have thought I’d brought him a feast. He gushed.” Hunk laughed and shook his head. “You’ll be fine, Keith.”
Keith did feel a little better as he finished his tea. Now he knew Coran was kind of like Shiro and would “like” whatever he got. Hunk’s soup wasn’t a great example, because it had been super good, but he was right that Coran was pretty happy most of the time, so at least he wouldn’t get mad at Keith for ruining his Christmas.
Keith totally blamed his distraction over the whole gift giving thing for the training accident. He was thinking about what he was good at, and how he didn’t really think Coran would be happy if Keith offered to stab someone or fight someone for him. It just didn’t feel “Christmassy” enough and, just as he’d come to the conclusion that he was the biggest idiot of all time, Pidge’s bayard wrapped around his ankle, shocked him, and dropped him in an uncontrolled, uncoordinated fall onto his right wrist which promptly snapped in a very bad, very painful way.
“Keith?! Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” Pidge was at his side helping him sit up as he cradled his arm against his body, gasping
“Shit. Is that broken?” Pidge looked a little green.
“Yeah,” Keith gritted out between his teeth, “I think it is.”
“Did… oh… ” Hunk definitely looked green.
“Hunk, go get Coran, please!” Pidge pleaded.
“Yeah,” Hunk swallowed, “Um, going.” He ran for the door with his hand over his mouth.
“He’s going to puke.” Keith stated. His wrist throbbing madly.
“Yeah, probably. I’m sorry, Keith. I shouldn’t have shocked you when I had it around your ankle. I was thinking about what I’m working on for Lance and I just got a great idea. And I wasn’t really paying attention.” Pidge rubbed at the back of her neck and blushed.
“I wasn’t either,” Keith admitted.
“What were you thinking about?”
“Same.” Keith bit out.
“You were thinking about making Lance an ocean sound machine to help him sleep?” Pidge snarked with a grin.
“No, you know what? Lance is right, you are a gremlin.” Keith almost smiled through the pain.
“Take it back or I’m telling Lance you said he was right!” Pidge threatened with a laugh.
“NO, not that.” Keith found himself relaxing despite the pain. Pidge was a good distraction.
“You’re a good artist,” Pidge offered suddenly.
“What?!” Keith stared at her; he'd never talked about his art with anyone here.
“I… uh… well, I used to hack the Garrison computers… a lot… and, well, you took those art classes and scored really well, so I figured you must be… anyway, just in case you were trying to figure out what to do?” Pidge gave him a tentative grin.
He should be mad at her for being in his personal business, but it was from before he knew her and she may have just helped him out… a lot. He smiled back as Coran came bustling into the room and before Keith knew it, he was pulled up into strong arms and being carried to the infirmary.
“I can walk,” Keith offered.
“Of course, but no need to risk a fall on that arm.” Coran returned with a twitch of his mustache.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ve had worse.” Keith wriggled, trying to get down. “I can take care of myself.”
“Well that may be, but here you don’t have to.”
Keith was surprised at the sad tone in Coran’s voice and looked back up at him. The older Altean’s eyes were soft and he wore a frown.
“It’s alright to need help, you know.” Coran gave him a nod.
“I know,” Keith ceded quietly, even as the thousand times it hadn’t been alright cycled through his mind in vivid detail.
“Well, alright then. We’ll have you in the pod and out before you know it, and good as new.” Coran gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Thank you.” Keith answered.
“Why, you are most welcome!” Coran’s smile broadened as they reached the infirmary.
Coran helped Keith into the suit for the pod. He gently guided his injured arm through a sleeve, explaining the sensors and how the suit worked as he went. Keith listened to the soft pattern of his words, distracted from the pain by gentle hands and the care they were giving him. When was the last time someone had taken care of him when he’d been hurt? He honestly couldn’t remember. He supposed it would have been Shiro. He’d come over with a bloody lip, a black eye, and a cracked rib. He’d not had to go back to that foster home and Shiro had gotten him a room in the dorms the next day, though he’d stayed with Shiro and Adam for a week until the rib had healed up some. But this was different. It wasn’t like when Shiro took care of him, blustery and angry and worried; this was more like the vague memories of his dad bandaging a scraped knee or putting ice on a sprained wrist. Keith blinked stinging eyes; he was not about to cry.
“Alright there, Number Four?” Coran asked as he helped him over to the pod.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Keith gave a tight nod.
“Well then we’ll have you out in a Spindlespeck of a Bostroch.” Coran laughed as the lid closed and Keith knew no more.
Keith was more than a little surprised when Lance was the one waiting to catch him as he fell out of the pod. He blinked near frozen eyes at the grinning Cuban and looked around for literally anyone else.
“So… heard you said I was right about something.” Lance smirked.
“Nope.” Keith deadpanned.
“What?! No way, Pidge said–” Lance started to wave his arms around and Keith teetered to the side before the other boy noticed and grabbed him. “Sorry. I know it’s kind of wobbly when you get out. It will wear off soon.” Lance looked sheepish as he guided Keith over to a chair, sitting him down.
Keith realized he had a blanket wrapped around him. He lifted one shaky hand to pick at it in confusion.
“Oh, yeah, I was cold when I got out, thought you would like it?” Lance offered as he handed Keith a hydration pouch.
“It’s, yeah, I’m cold.” Keith still felt fuzzy as he sipped the water. “Where…” he gestured vaguely.
“Oh, the others? They headed down to the market. Your break took longer to heal than Coran thought it would, something about dense bones? Anyway it’s tomorrow… or well today… but tomorrow for you?” Lance finished with a grin.
“You didn’t want to go?” Keith frowned.
“Well, I didn’t need to. I’ve been working on mine, and waiting for you gave me time to finish it.” Lance looked strangely embarrassed, almost reluctant to talk.
“What are you making?” Keith was curious about anything that would make Lance not want to talk.
“Well, don’t tell, of course, but I drew Allura.” Lance sighed and blushed again and suddenly Keith understood part of the reluctance. Lance’s crush was somewhat legendary. “The thing is that she’s a princess so she has everything. Literally everything—I mean have you seen her closet?!”
Keith shook his head no.
“It’s huge. She has all the clothes, and the jewelry, and the everything that princesses have, and what could a princess possibly want that someone like me could buy?! It’s a lost cause, right?” Lance huffed. “So… I decided I’d make her something, but now that it’s done, I’m just not sure it’s right, or, you know, I think she’ll hate it. It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”
Keith stared in dumbfounded shock at the flustered boy in front of him. It had never occurred to him that anyone that was as experienced as gift giving as Lance had to be, based on all of the stories about his family, could possibly be as frustrated and confused about what to get as Keith himself had been. “What did you make?”
Lance held up a pair of pink socks. Keith blinked.
“I know. Stupid.” Lance sighed and let them fall on his lap.
Keith reached over and touched one. “They’re really soft.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that the castle gets cold and my feet are always cold in the morning and maybe her’s would be too, and then maybe she’d like warm socks to wear…” He cut off with another sigh.
“You can make socks?” Keith was a little bit in awe.
“Oh yeah. I can knit all kinds of things. You think I should have made a scarf?” Lance looked up and Keith could swear there were tears about to fall from his blue eyes.
“What? No, I think she’ll like the socks. You actually made them for her and they’re soft and her favorite color.” Keith corrected.
“You really think so?”
“I would have liked it if you made me socks,” Keith confirmed.
“You want pink socks?!” Lance smiled a bit and wiped his eyes.
“No, red’s my favorite color.” Keith answered without thinking.
“You’d really like them?” Lance questioned in a more serious tone.
“Yeah, I mean, you’re right: it gets cold.” Keith gave Lance a shy smile.
“Well then, as soon as I can get my hands on some red yarn, I’ll make you a pair too.” Lance smiled broadly. “Thank you, Keith!”
“For what?” Keith frowned puzzled again.
“Nothing, don’t you worry your pretty little mullet over it.” Lance laughed. “Oh, I almost forgot: I was supposed to call Shiro and let him know if he could pick anything up for you at the market.”
“Actually, yeah. I know just what I need.” Keith breathed in, still a little nervous about his choice, but becoming more confident that this was the right gift for Coran.
Christmas morning in the castle was an experience like none that Keith had ever had before. It started at 5 in the morning, when he usually got up and worked out before his shower. Only, when he opened the door, Lance was standing there… or rather jumping up and down there.
“It’s Christmas!”
“Okay.” Keith wondered if he could get past him, but Lance was blocking the doorway pretty effectively with his jumping.
“Keith, IT’S CHRISTMAS!” Lance bubbled.
“And…”
“Oh, come on.” Lance grabbed Keith’s arm and started dragging him down toward the common room.
“I was going to work out…”
“Not on Christmas! Everyone else is already up and getting ready for breakfast. I was coming to get you.” Lance explained, still practically bouncing.
“Everyone is up?” Keith blinked. That wasn’t normal castle behavior. Usually the only ones up at this time were him and Coran – and Shiro or Pidge if they hadn’t gone to sleep.
“YEAH! CHRISTMAS, remember,” Lance mocked.
Keith nodded in a way that he hoped made Lance think that any of this made sense to him.
“On Christmas you have to get up early, eat a huge breakfast, open gifts, and then nap.” Lance ticked off each item with a finger as he explained.
“Why don’t you just sleep until a normal hour, and then you wouldn’t need to nap.” Keith frowned.
“Your logic cannot stop me, Grinch.” Lance laughed and pulled Keith into the common room where, true to his word, the rest of the team minus Hunk were waiting.
“Sorry, Keith, he needed something to do.” Shiro offered from the couch, still looking half asleep.
“Yes, Lance does seem unusually awake this morning.” Allura commented through a yawn.
“He totally woke us all up,” Pidge growled and pulled a pillow in closer to her body.
“Oh.” Lance seemed to deflate a bit at the response.
“But that’s what you’re supposed to do, on Christmas, right?” Keith turned to Lance.
“Yeah, I thought, I mean breakfast will be ready soon.” Lance half smiled.
Keith kicked Shiro’s foot subtly who startled a bit, but seemed to catch on, “Of course, Lance, we would not have wanted to miss breakfast.”
Lance seemed to catch his footing with that remark and with a bright smile turned to the kitchen, “I’ll just go see if Hunk needs help.” He headed through the doors.
“He really likes this holiday.” Allura commented.
“He misses his family.” Coran sighed. “He said this is helping.”
Allura nodded thoughtfully.
Keith sat next to Shiro, processing all of the reactions. He wondered how often Lance covered one emotion with another. It may not have been his first choice of team building exercises, but the whole Christmas thing was teaching him a lot about his team and Coran. He wouldn’t’ve expected Coran to be the first to notice Lance’s homesickness, but he’s found there’ a lot more to the man than meets the eye. He also seems to cover one emotion with another. In fact Lance and Coran were a lot alike, he decided.
“Breakfast is served!” Hunk stepped through the doors carrying a huge tray of food which he sat on the table. “We have purple French Toast, green scrambled eggs with cheese, orange bacon, and pink peanut butter muffins with aqua chocolate chips.” Hunk pointed to the foods on the tray as he described them. A loud noise behind him brought his attention back to the door as Lance was apparently unable to get it open. He turned and pulled the door, revealing Lance and a second tray of food. “On this tray we have Altean pudding – which I do not recommend for humans,” Hunk made a bit of a face, but Allura cooed with delight, “and we have Altean bread candy, which is kind of like cinnamon rolls, and Altean pip-so-squirrel… Coran did I get that right?”
“Pipsosquerel. Very close, Number Two.” Coran nodded.
“My favorite!” Allura clapped. “Mother would always make it for the harvest celebration.”
“Coran said you would like it. It tastes kind of like mincemeat pie.” Hunk added for the earthlings at the table. “Well, dig in!”
And dig in they did. Keith hadn’t eaten that much food in a long time. The muffins were his favorite, but he tried everything from the Earth tray and also the bread candy from the Altean tray. Allura didn’t seem the least bit offended that the humans weren’t all trying the Altean food. In fact, he got the impression she was just as happy to keep it to herself. He saw her give Coran the side eye when he took a huge slice of the squirrel thing. Apparently Hunk saw it as well because he commented how easy it was to make and how he’d be happy to make it for Allura again sometime. That seemed to appease her, or at least she didn’t look like she was about to stab Coran with her fork any more.
After the meal they all gathered back in the common room. Pidge and Hunk had erected a metal tree of sorts and Lance had decorated it with paper garlands and what looked like some kind of orange and pink striped fruit. Under the tree were seven wrapped packages.
“Youngest first!” Lance yelled.
“You only say that because you’re the second youngest.” Pidge laughed.
“I just thought you’d like to go first, if you’d rather go–”
“No, it’s okay.” Pidge cut Lance off.
“Alright then. Pidge first.” Allura chuckled.
“Pidge, I’m your secret Santa. Here is your gift,” Hunk handed her a brown wrapped package tied with a green bow.
She ripped the paper to shreds and held a little Altean tablet in her hands. Curiously she turned it every which way and then powered it on. It lit up with a series of beeps, and a brightly colored picture appeared on the screen. “The Green Paladin’s Quest,” it read in bright green script.
“It's a game. I made it for you.” Hunk explained.
“Hunk, I love it!” Pidge hopped up and gave him a huge hug. “Thank you!”
“Alright, next up is Lance,” Allura announced.
Lance practically vibrated in place waiting for his gift.
“I have Lance.” Pidge brought him a haphazardly wrapped package covered mostly in blue paper.
Lance shredded the paper almost as quickly as Pidge and revealed a metallic blue cylinder, about 6 inches tall and with a 3 inch diameter.
“It’s a sound machine. Push the top button.” Pidge prompted.
As soon as Lance hit the button the room was filled with the sound of ocean surf. Lance stared at it as the sound of wave after wave crashed through the room.
“Do you like it?” Pidge questioned, slightly subdued as Lance had yet to react.
“It sounds like home.” Lance turned tear-filled eyes to her. “I love it, Pidge!” He still had tears on his face as Pidge plowed into him with a tight hug.
Next up was Hunk who received a set of unique teas from Coran. Hunk thanked him profusely. Then was Keith himself who got a holster for his knife from Shiro. It sat on his back and he’d be able to wear it under his armor. Keith gave his pseudo brother a big hug and thanked him. Shiro had a knack for getting things that Keith needed and wanted.
After Keith was Shiro, although he objected and said that Allura should go first. Allura bought Shiro a pendant with a black and white swirled stone. She explained that on Altea it was believed that such stones could absorb bad dreams. Shiro smiled softly and thanked her.
Next was Allura and Lance stuttered and sputtered when he gave her his gift. She looked leerily at first, but when she opened it she smiled looking pleased. Lance explained he’d made them for her and then rambled on for several moments until she stopped him.
“I love them, Lance. Thank you.” She met his eyes and smiled. He seemed to finally relax and smiled back and told her that he was glad. That brought up last, but definitely not least.
“So I guess I can figure out who my secret Santa was, hmmm, Number Four?” Coran chuckled. “Being the eldest has some advantages.”
Keith picked up the carefully wrapped package. He handed it to Coran and held his breath. The older man carefully undid the string that was holding the brown wrap in place and then gently unfolded the paper. He inhaled sharply and sat staring into the paper at his present.
“I, um, I hope you like it. I just. Well, I mean you do so much for us and I just wanted…” Keith tugged nervously at his jacket sleeves. “I just wanted you to know how much it meant to us… to me… that you take care of us and look after us.” Keith took a shaky breath and looked up to see if he could read Coran’s expression. The older man was looking straight at him with tears running down his face.
“This is beautiful, my boy, I will treasure it always.” Coran clutched the frame against his chest as he reached out to Keith.
Keith moved forward and somewhat awkwardly hugged Coran.
“Thank you,” Coran whispered to him, and Keith nodded against his shoulder.
“Let’s see it then,” Allura called, curious to see what had Coran so choked up.
Coran turned the frame around so that they could all see. In the background of the picture stood the castle, and arrayed in front of it were the five lions, each with their Paladin resting somewhere on them. Shiro stood square in front of Black, Pidge perched on Green’s shoulder, Keith crouched on Red’s nose, Hunk sat on Yellow’s paw, and Lance was leaning against Blue’s leg. In front of the Paladins was Allura, dressed in her battle gear. They all looked very impressive, truly an image of the Defenders of the Universe. Yet in the foreground stood Coran. He had a cape that seemed to be blowing in the breeze. He was wearing his typical wardrobe and had a smile on his face. Written below him it read, “Coran, the Defender of the Defenders.”