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Keith isn’t religious, but if he were, this is what he’d imagine hell to be like.
The particle barrier is dropping further and further, faster than Keith can force his feet to carry him, and as they stop just short in front of the sealed off castle, he brings his fists down on the particle barrier. Energy ripples for a moment before it settles again. “We’re too late,” he breathes, useless and agitated, grinding his teeth together. “No!” He shouts, eyes scanning the castle, searching for any sign, any signal, any way to beat this and get to where he needs to be.
Shiro is inside, facing off against those who had kept him, hurt him, and Keith isn’t there. Lance, unconscious and injured and painfully vulnerable, is inside–and Keith isn’t there. He hasn’t felt this panicked, this hopelessly powerless, in quite a while. He felt something similar when he first heard of Shiro’s disappearance, he recalls. Balancing the urge to do something, to help, to have some semblance of control over the situation with coping with the inability to do anything, with the vexation which comes with one’s own ineffectual efforts, could begin to feel akin to drowning.
“They have control of the castle,” Allura scans the castle for any indication, any movement, panic in her voice and sweat on her brow, “they’re taking Voltron!”
Keith unsheaths his bayard, desperate and poised to act. “Can we break through the barrier?”
“No, and whoever’s taken control of the castle has a crystal, which means they’ll be able to fly the ship.” She glances back to the castle, frowning. “We have to stop them.”
“How are we going to do that?” Keith’s frustration melts into his voice. He shuffles from foot to foot, needing to move, to get ride of some of his building tension. This is new to the paladins–every fight they’ve encountered before, they’ve had their lions, they’ve had each other. Now, they’re separated, with some injured and some on an entirely different planet. They’re more susceptible to damage than they’ve been thus far. Keith makes a frustrated noise from the back of his throat, ready to attempt to slash through the barrier despite what Allura said, when his comm crackles to life.
“Keith, can you hear me?” It’s Pidge, and Keith’s hand flies up to his comm.
“Pidge!” Keith exclaims, relieved. “Is that you? Where are you?”
“I’m inside the castle,” explains Pidge, tone hushed, “Sendak has taken over and he’s preparing for launch. He’s got Lance and Shiro!” They whisper the last bit with a sense of urgency which Keith can most definitely empathize with.
Allura speaks up, ready to get to work. “Pidge, listen. If they’ve started the launch sequence,” Allura begins to instruct Pidge on halting the castle’s launch and shutting down the particle barrier, and Keith directs his attention back to the castle, forcing his nerves to calm, exhaling sharply.
Keith’s hands clench and unclench by his sides. The image of Lance, limp on the ground of the castle, unmoving and unresponsive, shook Keith up more than he’s willing to admit. Upon entering the control room as the smoke had begun to clear, they had made out Coran, and before Keith had time to wonder, he had noticed Lance. He’s never seen Lance as still as he had been in that moment. Lance is unconscious, unable to defend himself against the Galra bastards taking over the castle–he needs help. He needs Keith.
Keith repeats a mantra to keep himself grounded. Be patient. You’ll get him back. He’ll be okay. Be patient.
When the particle barrier finally flickers out of existence, Keith and Allura take off, sprinting into the castle. Keith feels as if the control room is years away. The blue hue of the castle’s lights is replaced by the purple glow of the Galran corrupted crystal, setting Keith even more on edge, if possible. They hear the commotion inside the control room they see it; Pidge is held a few feet above the ground, tightly constricted in the grip of Sendak’s massive hand. Keith glances past them at Lance, still out cold, and Shiro, who’s arms are restrained behind his back.
Sendak’s voice booms, ordering them to stand back, but a staggering blast of blue energy has him releasing pidge and whipping around. Lance’s arms fall, his weapon fizzling out brightly, and he goes limp, slumping back as his eyes shut. Keith hops from foot to foot, silently cursing that he isn’t between Lance and Sendak, when Shiro staggers to his feet and launches himself at Sendak. He’s swatted aside, but Keith is there, using all he has to knock Sendak off balance, attacking with his bayard and kicking at him. His mind is occupied with one thought: protect, protect, protect. He’s finally found people who believe in him, who care for him. Nobody would take that from him, especially not the damned Galran Empire. Sendak grapples with him for a minutes before he grabs and tosses Keith aside. Pidge follows up quickly, sending their bayard straight through Sendak’s biotic arm, allowing Allura to skirt around to the control panel as the Galran howls.
Pidge and Keith continue to engage Sendak, exchanging blows mercilessly, when Allura shouts, “Keith, now!”
Keith sends Sendak flying backwards with a forceful kick as a blue barrier rises, trapping him inside with the corrupted crystal. Sendak pounds the barrier furiously for a moment, an Keith takes that second to breathe.
Keith isn’t religious, but if he were, this is what he’d imagine heaven to be like.
Lance’s smile has a softness, his eyes have a gentleness, which Keith isn’t quite familiar with. Keith is practically a master of combat; as he was now, Lance didn’t stand a chance against him at hand-to-hand. However, the warm expression on Lance’s face now is more disarming than any of the moves Keith learned at the Garrison.
“We did it,” it’s the first thing Keith had heard Lance say since the entire ordeal began, and Christ, Keith is glad to hear his voice. Its a bit rough, and Lance has to take a breath in between, but he’s cognitive and conscious and Keith can’t ask for much else. “We are a good team.” For a moment, Keith thinks of smoke clearing and Lance’s body lying lifelessly on the floor and red hot panic, but he swallows the thoughts and tightens his grip on Lance’s hand, smiling in acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak
Keith isn’t sure exactly how he does it, but, with very little effort, Lance somehow manages to put Keith through both heaven and hell. Even while he's completely out cold.
Keith is poking at Lance’s cryopod, impatient and petulant, demanding answers from Allura. He’s unnerved by Lance’s blank expression–he doesn’t even look asleep, necessarily. Just… comatose. Keith ignores the shiver running up his spine and crosses his arms, eyes never leaving the pod. Do you think while you were inside? Do you dream? Keith has yet to spend any time in the pods, himself. Any minor injuries he insists can heal on their own (he isn’t afraid of the pods, he just doesn’t like the idea of being confined in a supernatural alien icebox). Regardless, Lance has been inside for hours upon hours, almost an entire day and if Keith doesn’t get hard proof that Lance is in tact and all… Lance-y, then he’s going to lose it. He needs to see Lance moving around, needs to hear a stupid joke and be sure that he’s all there, all okay.
Momentarily distracted by matching alien ticks with human seconds, the others gather around in a circle. After another moment of staring into Lance’s pod, willing the idiot to wake up already, Keith glances over their shoulders to watch, as well. He makes a snarky comment about the comparison, and even as Hunk takes it in stride, he silently berates himself, he’s just so damn on edge.
And then there he is, peering over their shoulders at their clocks, inquiring about their “clock party,” looking worse for wear but conscious, and team Voltron springs to life. Hunk scoops Lance up into his arms, tearful, his stopwatch forgotten, and Allura steps forward, smiling, and offers food and an explanation of what transpired. Lance smiles slyly–Keith can see the exhaustion in the way it doesn’t reach his eyes–and teases Allura about the date-like nature of her offer. He’s met with groans, and Keith grumbles, “Classic,” crossing his arms. It’s devoid of any heat whatsoever, his relief stronger than his exasperation by a landslide. As they make their way towards the kitchens, Keith slips under Lance’s left arm, Hunk supporting his right, and doesn’t miss the appreciative look sent his way. Keith’s resolve strengthens, and as they able to the kitchens, he swears to himself to never allow Lance to be hurt like this again. Keith is beginning to doubt that his heart can take it.