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The air smelled strongly of smoke.
Shiro’s head throbbed with the aftermath of the battle, his armor stained with dust and blood, his muscles aching. The Galra had been relentless, forcing the Paladins into a desperate evacuation of the city. Now, amidst the rubble and smoldering ruins, Shiro felt the weight of their failure. They had saved many civilians, but the cost had been steep, and the planet bore scars that would last for generations.
And now they were making their way through the ruined city, scouting through the crumbling and burning buildings - searching for lingering survivors and taking out any Galra.
As the group moved cautiously through the wreckage, Shiro’s sensors picked up a heat signature from one of the still-standing buildings, his visor outlining them to catch his attention. The signature was small, unlikely to be a Galran combatant lying in wait to ambush them.
"There's someone still in there," Shiro said, already moving towards the structure. "I’m going in, wait here."
Hunk grabbed his arm, looking up to the crumbling roof as he tried to pull Shiro back. "Shiro, wait-"
But Shiro was already inside, his steps quickening as the building creaked ominously around him, weakened by sustained bombardment. Shiro’s heart pounded as he searched through the debris. Finally, he spotted a small child huddled in the corner, eyes wide with silent terror as they looked up at him.
"It’s okay," Shiro assured gently, reaching out with a gloved (and, unfortunately, bloodied) hand. "I’m here to help. I'm a Paladin of Voltron."
The child’s eyes widened further at the mention of Voltron, and they tentatively moved towards him.
He scooped the child into his arms and turned to leave when the building shuddered violently. Shiro barely had time to react as a Galra fighter crashed through the structure, causing it to collapse all around them. He hears the other paladins shout before their voices were drowned out. He dove to the floor and shielded the child with his body, feeling the impact of the debris as the world around him crumbled.
Pain erupted through Shiro’s side like a white-hot lance as a jagged piece of metal skewered through his armor and impaled him to the ground, just barely missing the child beneath him. His breath caught in a strangled gasp, and he bit down hard on his lip, taste of blood flooding his mouth as a strangled noise escaped him. Every heartbeat sent waves of searing pain radiating outward from the wound, threatening to overwhelm his senses.
He could hear the child crying, could feel their small hands clutching at his armor - and as he looked down, he saw his own blood drip onto their small face.
His vision dimmed, and he felt himself begin to collapse. Through the haze of agony, Shiro forced himself to stay alert, biting his cheek and using the sharp pain to bring himself back to awareness.
The child below him whimpered, their small hands gripping his armored suit in a desperate plea for safety. Tears streaked down their dusty cheeks, mingling with the sweat and blood that coated their small face.
“It’s okay,” Shiro managed to murmur, his voice strained with pain. He struggled to maintain a calm facade for the child, despite the tremors wracking his body. His free hand, trembling with effort, moved to gently stroke the child’s hair, hoping to offer some comfort despite the peril they were in. They whimpered, their eyes wide with fear.
Above them, the building groaned ominously, threatening to collapse further at any moment. A surge of dizziness washed over Shiro, his vision blurring at the edges as blood loss and pain conspired to pull him under. The rubble that he was holding up seemed to grow heavier by the second, threatening to crush him - and the child - beneath the weight.
“Hold on,” Shiro urged, his voice a raw whisper as he fought back against unconsciousness. Every shallow breath burned in his lungs, and he tasted the familiar metallic taste of blood. "We'll be okay, I promise."
The child continued to cry, to wail, and Shiro forced himself to keep his arms planted on either side of their small body, the weight of the rubble pressing down upon him.
Shiro tried to move, but the pain was excruciating, the metal rod impaling him making it impossible to shift. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and he felt a cold sweat break out over his skin.
He faltered, his real arm buckling for a moment, and he felt the rubble above them move.
"No!" Shiro hissed, shoving himself back to where he has been, holding the rubble as the child curled tightly into themselves.
Above the cacophony of crumbling debris, he strained to hear the distant shouts of his teammates. They were searching for him, desperately trying to clear a path through the rubble. Their voices were muffled, drowned out by the oppressive weight that threatened to crush them all.
He hoped they would find them soon.
"Shiro! Shiro, can you hear me?"
Keith’s voice was faint as he called out, but desperate.
Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Shiro attempted to respond. His throat felt raw, his words barely audible over the din of destruction surrounding them. “Keith… we're here…”
The world faded in and out, Shiro’s grip on consciousness slipping. He could hear the team’s frantic efforts to reach him, their calls growing more desperate. He closed his eyes, focusing on the child’s steady breathing as they lay safely below him. As long as they were safe, that was all that mattered.
The sounds of rubble being moved, of his teammates and friends moving rocks and calling out, grew closer.
Minutes stretched into an eternity until finally, blessedly, the weight shifted. Strong hands lifted him clear of the rubble, pain flaring anew as the jagged metal rod shifted within his side. Relief washed over him as the child was gently taken from his arms, carefully handed to who Shiro assumed was their parent - who held them tightly.
Knowing the child was safe, that he had done his duty as a paladin of Voltron, Shiro allowed the darkness to claim him.
"Shiro!"
The next time Shiro awoke, he was being lifted, the rubble shifting around him. The pain flared, blinding him, and he bit back a scream. He recognized Keith’s voice, soothing and urgent.
“Hang in there, Shiro. We’ve got you.”
Keith carefully lifted him into a bridal carry, the metal rod still embedded in his body. The movement was excruciating, and Shiro felt himself slipping back into darkness just as quickly as he had emerged from it.
“Stay with us, Shiro,” Allura’s voice broke through the haze as they began to move. “We’re almost there."
Shiro's eyes drifted shut, and when they opened next he was being carried out of the Red Lion.
Shiro’s world narrowed to the pain and the distant hum of the Castle’s as they moved him to the infirmary. Coran and Allura worked quickly, their hands steady and efficient. The last thing Shiro remembered before the darkness took him completely was the reassuring presence of his team around him - concern on all their faces.
When he woke again, he was in a healing pod. The pain was a dull ache, a reminder of how close he had come. Through the glass, he could see his team, their faces filled with relief and exhaustion. Keith was the first to notice he was awake, his face breaking into a relieved smile.
"Shiro!"