Chapter Text
Keith fought aliens. That wasn't a thing normal people did, but here he was, fighting aliens. Something he'd trained for for hours every day. So it was genuinely surprising when the Galra solider caught him off guard with a blast from some new alien weapon.
He hit the ground like a ton of bricks. This...hadn't happened before. He had been running back to his lion with the rest of the Paladins, bringing up the rear to hopefully escape before the ship went down. It was supposed to be simple. But when he was hit with that blast, he crumbled. His vision got blurry, and he struggled to even lift his head. He heard buzzing. It was like every inch of his body was buzzing. He couldn't move. He didn't know if he wanted to.
From day one, even back at the Garrison, Lance fought tooth and nail to keep up with Keith Kogane, top pilot. He'd had it in his head that he was neck and neck with this guy when in all reality, he was just a cargo pilot. So, to say the very least, even with the binding bond of Voltron, it was taking a while, slowly but surely, for the paladin of ice and water to warm up to his more fiery companion.
Lance had already had a close call on his life since he had left earth. Apparently Keith had cradled him in his arms? It was all a blur from the explosion until time he had emerged from the healing pod after what seemed like ages. But Keith wasn't the type to get injured. Not the type to be caught off guard and shot in the rear like had happened so many times to Lance. They were nearly back to their lions when they collectively realized that they were missing someone. A blur of red on the already bloody battlefield caught his attention. A mullet he would recognize anywhere, even when it was only peeking out from under a beaten and battered helmet.
And then he was next to Keith, his long legs carrying him faster than he thought they could. "Keith! Keith, buddy, are you alright?" If anything, from the time that it had taken the squad to notice he wasn't running with them anymore, Keith had been laying there for a while, nearly motionless, which struck fear into the Blue Paladin. "Come on, you've got to be okay," His voice was urgent and dripping with panic as the rest of the team rejoined them, giving Lance cover fire while he attempted to check in on Keith.
Keith wasn't doing so good. He felt woozy, the strong thumps of Galra soldiers' feet doing nothing to rouse him from his incapacitated state.
Everything was blurry, and all too much, the sounds, the smells, the sights- it was all so much and all at once. What was happening to him?
It dawned on him that none of the Paladins had come back for him. Was he dying?
Panic rose in Keith's chest but he simply couldn't move.
He saw a flash of blue in the slurry of sight his eyes were feeding him, and felt so much relief he passed out.
Lance caught a glimpse of Keith's dark eyes before they lazily fluttered closed. No. He's not dead, he's not dead, please let him not be dead. Lance had to trust that Keith was still breathing, there was no time to check. Their armor was not a good judge of the rise and fall of the chest because it needed to be sturdy and he couldn't try to feel if he could detect faint breathing because their helmets had to be sealed on this planet due to the inhospitable atmosphere.
"I've got him, we've got to go!" he yelled, picking up Keith and wrestling him over his shoulder, his limp body heavy. It was pure adrenaline at this point that allowed such lean muscles to carry so much weight and still managing to move quickly to escape. Lance would definitely feel it in the morning, but right now he wanted to make sure that Keith could make it until the morning. They loaded back into their lions, Lance transporting Keith in Blue. Even though Red was fully capable of returning her paladin back to the castle, Lance couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone, even in the responsible hands of his own lion. Now he found himself waiting and watching outside the healing pod. He never thought he'd be in this situation, so concerned about his so-called rival. Shiro had managed to convince him to change out of his uniform and take a shower and Hunk had brought him some food, but Lance was still insistent on sticking around, a little while longer, just a few more minutes, half an hour more until I finally go, until everyone else was back in their quarters and Lance had fallen asleep, his head leaning against the cold, sterile healing pod.
Keith had been in a healing pod before. It came with the whole "fighting aliens" thing now. Along with the six people he cared about more than anybody in the world, or the entire universe for that matter! He twitched idly in the pod, a dull numbness washing over the tingling, buzzing feeling that had crept into his bones.
He hadn't expected to stumble so badly when he exited the pod the next morning. He also didn't expect to stumble right into Lance's arms.
There were a few things off about this situation. Starting with this hazy gloss over his eyes. Barely perceivable, unless you made a point to notice it. His mullet was fluffier, though that might just have been from sleeping in a healing pod. Unfortunately for Keith, Lance was more than close enough to see both of these things. Keith quickly pushed back and out of Lance's arms, having a little trouble steadying himself but eventually finding refuge leaning against the edge of the healing pod.
Lance was jolted from his sleep with a sudden weight collapsing upon him. The mere shock caused his body to brace itself and managed to catch whatever or whoever just fell on him. His muscles and joints ached as his eyes blearily focused. Keith?...
"Keith!" Lance blurted excitedly, his voice still a little thick from sleep. He studied the individual in front of him, still clad in the signature white healing pod jumpsuit that all of them had worn something similar quite a few times, some for longer periods than others, and something... Something was different. "You're awake!-- And geez, that healing pod does wonder for your skin and hair, dude! You must have been in need of a major bath," he laughed. Of course Lance had to add a jab in there. It wouldn't be the same if he let his true concern show through. Besides, sudden niceness would have been jarring for Keith even if he hadn't just emerged from a pod.
Keith wheezed out a very dry, very fake laugh, righting himself.
"What happened?"
"I'm-- I'm not quite sure exactly. We were all headed back to our lions and when we got there, we realized that you weren't with us and-- I think we all panicked. You were barely conscious when we got back to you."
"Barely conscious?" Keith's eyes widened, but he was quick to cover up his surprise. "Well, it was just a stupid slip up. At least everybody got me back."
Keith doesn't slip up. He hadn't slipped up a day in his life.
That dull achey thrum was back, making him oversensitive and causing him to brush past Lance with a simple wave. Because, after all, it was nothing, right? Just a little wound. Nothing a healing pod couldn't fix.
He headed back to his room to shower and relax before heading back out to train a few hours later.
Lance coughed into his hand.
"Uh, yeah, we did."
Life began to go on as normal for the paladins, Lance had soon informed everyone that Keith was still kicking and was in fact, back to his normal, grumpy self less than five minutes out of the pod. How lovely.
A few hours later, Lance found himself strolling the corridors of the castle, quite bored of messing around with the anti-gravity room with Hunk. He passed the training deck and managed to catch the blur of movement coming from within. Unbelievable. While Lance had been convinced a long time ago that Keith was a deficient human being compared to himself, this positively proved that he was chill-deficient. Seriously, who pops out of a healing pod and takes a shower, only to get sweaty again? And besides, should Keith really be training this soon after such a physically straining close call? Sure the pods were highly advanced and more efficient as well as thorough than any doctor on earth could imagine being, but Lance always found his favorite post-pod pastime to be chilling out on the couch.
"End training sequence!" Lance called angrily as he entered the room. Thankfully, the castle responded to any voice in most menial situations such as this one. "Dude! You just had a life-threatening experience and your first thought is to train? Did you hit your stupid stubborn head when that Galra guy shot you or something?" Lance was now marching over to Keith. Normally he wouldn't care what Keith did or when he did it, but after the emotional stress he'd been through over him as well as the crick in his neck from sleeping against a healing pod all night didn't put him in the mood to be indifferent and just keep walking past.
Keith whipped around shockingly fast, clenching his fists. "The hell was that for, McClain? I know my limits. Stop treating me like a child."
His scowl had an unusual amount of... bite to it.
So what, a Galra soldier shot him? Only meant that he had time to make sure it wouldn't happen again. He'd been on edge all day, and he absolutely did not need to be dealing with Lance McClain right now.
"Begin training sequence," he spit through clenched teeth.
Nothing about Keith was right. Even his fighting style had taken a tumble. He was unsteady at best, and impulsive as he usually was, his instincts weren't serving him well at all.
That glint in his eyes remained, determination ever-present, raging through his body along with that annoying-as-hell buzzing!
Lance glared as he watched Keith train for a moment, having stepped back a little. He kept his mouth shut long enough to confirm something that he thought he had seen in passing, and sure enough.
" Keith -- urgh!" Lance yelled once again for the gladiator to halt. "Keith, this isn't even treating you like a child, your body isn't ready for full-out training yet, dumbass!"
He grabbed him by the shoulder, which was probably a little bit dangerous, given that Keith still had his bayard drawn and seemed to be a little volatile right now, but who said the red paladin was the only impulsive one?
"Is it not in you to just chill out for one day??" Something was different. Being this close to Keith, Lance could see. His eyes seemed furious, the glint of bloodthirstiness and frustration built up within them. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, quite unlike the Keith that Lance had been chasing for years.
"I'm fine , Lance."
Keith stowed his bayard, skin bubbling with anger.
"What do you want ."
Keith scratched idly behind his head, glaring up at Lance.
"I'm just trying to be ready so that a freakish Galra footsoldier can't sneak up on me again."
Lance found himself glaring again, squinting to try to find the logic here.
"Hate to be the voice of reason, always, that's Hunk's job after all; But if you drive yourself into the ground on the training deck do you think you're going to be any help against even those stupid brainless robot soldiers?? And do you think we could form Voltron without you? Believe me if we could, we would, mullet ,"
What happened to all that concern huh? Oh that's right. He's actually conscious now and being as difficult as ever. How endearing.
"Mullet. That's the best you could come up with."
Keith seemed to be cooling down and settling back into familiar banter with Lance.
"That's all you ever insult. That's an awful lot of attention to pay my mullet."
Right. Not like Lance would ever pay attention to him. Keith didn't know why he cared so much. It's just Lance
Let Lance hyperfixate on his mullet. He'd much rather focus on training.
Keith tied up his hair, making a small ponytail in the back and just giving up on training. With Lance there, nothing would ever get done. Again, he brushed past Lance, not even giving him a chance to contest the mullet comment.
As he strolled back to his room, he kept an even pace. How long had they been doing this? Bantering like, well. An old married couple. When had he started enjoying it? Looking forward to it? Well. Maybe he wasn't enjoying it quite as much as he thought. Then again, this tingly sensation was not helping by any means. He felt hyper-alert. Paranoid.
Lance exhaled loudly as Keith left, for once deeming it unworthy to try to shout after him. He was tired and it wasn't even lunchtime yet-- what hour that was, no one seemed to know. He had been worried and had slept sitting up for pete's sake and this was the thanks he got?
However, it was always eventful with Keith around. They could always find something to argue about. While Lance and Hunk had their inside jokes, everyone could always count on Lance and Keith, Keith and Lance, always bickering, sometimes in good fun, other times, not so much.
Lunchtime came and once again, in a collaboration between Hunk and Coran, it all tasted amazing. Lance was still acting a little pouty because he was sleepy and cranky at this point, he honestly needed a nap.
"So," Shiro began, breaking the silence. "Are you feeling better, Keith?"
"Oh, he's doing just fine! Perfect actually! Isn't that right, Keith?" Lance's voice was saturated with sarcasm, absolutely sopping with it.
"Yes," Keith bit back, "I'm doing great . I'd be doing better if I had actually had decent training time." Keith glared at Lance from across the table and went back to eating.
The food...was off, somehow. Space goop definitely tasted worse, but this? This was all too many tastes and textures and it made Keith a little sick to his stomach. He cleared away what he could manage and stood up.
"I'm going to my room," he blurted out abruptly, and hightailed it out of the dining area before anyone could think twice about it.
He shut his door, hard , and locked it, immediately shucking off his jacket and shirt. The itch going down his spine could not have been good, and it had bugged him all morning. He took a cautious look in the mirror.
He had to hold back his voice when he saw his own peeling skin giving way to an unmistakeable violet. Keith stood back from the mirror, in absolute shock and disbelief. It took him a minute to collect his thoughts and his composure after hastily getting his t-shirt back on.
It's coverable. It's just some weird rash, it must be. It's only gotten halfway down my back, it's fine, it's fine. I'll use one of the healing pods for it tonight. It's just a rash.
His thoughts were frantic and boarding on a panic attack, because no, it couldn't be.
He pushed his thoughts aside, assuring himself.
No, it must be a rash. Maybe I wasn't in the healing pod long enough. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine...
He tried to distract himself from thinking about it, adjusting his shirt and hair to cover what he could. He couldn't be suspicious. This was nothing to worry the team over. Just a rash.
Lance found himself trudging down the corridors of the castle to the hallway where their sleeping quarters were all located at a relatively small distance from each other. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he was grumbling as he went along due to the fact that his dessert had been threatened if he didn't attempt to offer an apology to Keith after all had assumed that it was Lance's off handed comments that had pushed Keith away with so little of his food eaten.
He banged on the door of Keith's room; all of their quarters were so conveniently color-coded, so even if Lance tried to forget where Keith was to escape the punishment of apology, his lies would be sorely thwarted. "Hey," he called, an annoyed edge to his voice, (because after all he still needed that nap due to his grumpy exhaustion), "Shiro made me come apologize to you or something or else I wouldn't get the dessert that Hunk made, so-- sorry I guess,"
Lance mumbled the last bit, hating having to admit defeat to his rival. He knew Shiro would follow up and ask Keith if Lance had apologized at all instead of just taking a stroll around the castle as a ruse, but honestly, he wasn't sure if he trusted Keith enough to not lie about it just to make Lance suffer further.
...Lance couldn't admit that he wouldn't do the same to Keith, but that was neither here nor there, of course.
The irritating tone of Lance's voice cut through his room's door. It only put him on edge and made him that much more eager to get to a healing pod that night.
He padded softly down the hallway once he was sure the rest of the Paladins were asleep. He suited up and stepped into a healing pod, stomach churning with anxiety.
Only moments later did the pod spit him out, declaring his clean bill of health. He spit and snarled out insults to the machine, but after two more failed attempts he figured he'd made enough noise for one night and trekked back to his room, paranoid someone would sneak up on him.
The next morning, the paladins all gathered for breakfast as they normally did. They all arrived at different times, Shiro and Keith usually being the earliest, Lance and sometimes Hunk usually being the latest. Sometimes Pidge didn't show up, it just depended. But for once, Lance was somehow earlier than Keith. What is this nonsense?? Everyone was in silent, sleepy shock.
After a while, Keith did manage to show up, and normally Lance would have taken this chance to gloat about it, but even though they had all settled into their own respective sleeping schedules, Allura did make sure that all the paladins were up in time for their morning training (which was very early in Lance's eyes), even if they didn't get breakfast, else they would get stuck on cleaning duty for a space week, so the lazier paladins had had to shape up quickly. But Keith? Keith hadn't had to do castle maintenance, not for this purpose at least, Lance had noticed. They had both been given disciplinary chores for being mutually rowdy and disruptive, which was always a fun activity when they were both still livid at each other 90% of the time.
Keith was acting strangely, as if his late arrival hadn't been odd enough for him. Lance blinked slowly, still dozing over his breakfast, his eyes blearily detecting something interesting. Very interesting.
"OOOOOOH," Lance suddenly shouted, as if his sleepy discovery had jolted him awake. "Keith has a hickey I sooo see it right there!!" He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over and pointed, snickering at the bruised-looking area peeking from the collar of Keith's shirt and jacket. "Who was it, there are only seven of us here, it wasn't me and I'm going to count out Coran at the very least on this one, so six,"
Keith really had just wanted some food. He just wanted to have a decent breakfast as a gift to himself for having a shitty night's sleep. But before he could even sit down, there it was. That irritating voice, the one that could cut through solid metal doors.
It took Keith a second to register what idiocy was actually spilling from Lance's face, but once he did, he jolted back, embarrassed and furious. He could feel the itchy rash spreading farther down his back, and it had already reached his thighs when he woke up that morning.
"It's not a hickey-!" he contested, poorly-timed voice crack not helping his case in the least.
He flipped up his collar, trying to keep a safe distance between him and Lance's prying hands.
"What else could it be, Keith? Why else would you have a bruise on your neck of all places, huh?"
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I got beat up after yesterday's slip up? Or are you that dense."
His mind was racing. He had to deflect this attention off of him, and fast .
"Sounds like someone's jealous. "
Yeah. That ought to do it.
"The healing pods heal bruises too, trust me, I'd kno--"
He didn't just.
HE DID.
" What. What did you just say?" Lance bristled up at the mere implication that he couldn't get any action but Keith could. "I'm sure as hell not jealous of you . And b-besides, I bet Hunk would make out with me right now if I asked him to!" Lance's defenses were raised, his voice now up a few octaves and loud, very, very loud whilst defending his honor.
"Dude, take me out to dinner first," Hunk teased from the seat adjacent to him.
"URGH, Whatever! Kogane I could best you any day in the romance department!"
"Sure you could," he says doubtfully, while rolling his eyes. "Tell me, Lance, about all those 'space babes' you've gotten. Like that one on last week's mission? Or wait, she rejected you. Hm...maybe the week before that? No, no...she rejected you too. Let me think...nope! None. You've gotten exactly, mathematically zero ."
He was so relieved. Lance was easily distracted, especially when it came to romance.
"What's this? A rare speechless moment from Lance McClain? I'll cherish it," Keith said dryly, plucking a muffin and a banana from the breakfast food at the table. "Don't be late for training."
He turns on his heel and heads back to his room, hoping Lance won't follow.
Ok, did he have any space turtlenecks? Or just like, normal earth turtlenecks? Because this rash was getting worse and he really didn't want Lance to point it out ever again.
Also...was it just his mirror or were his ears pointier..?
Lance's mouth hung open as he watched Keith exit the dining hall, still standing tense and upright, his clenched fists facedown on the table. A few snickers could be heard from his comrades and a small chuckle from even Shiro!
"Shut up!" he managed, his voice stuttery and his face hot and embarrassed.
"Dude, you've met your match," Hunk laughed good heartedly.
"Wh-what?? He is no match of mine, w-what would even make you think that?? I don't like him or anything, what a dumbass!"
"Lance. I meant that he knows which of your buttons to push."
"...Oh." Lance shut up and sat back down. Again, another rare moment of silence from Lance McClain. But it was only just a moment.
"Urgh! He's so--" His words seemed to fail him, there was nothing in the intergalactic dictionary that could manage to describe the pure frustration he felt towards Keith right now.
"Dreamy?" "Stupidly hot?" "Something in Spanish that roughly translated to 'beautiful', according to my calculations?" This was just a cruel, cruel word volley between Pidge and Hunk that caused Lance to feel the heat of humiliation spread throughout his body.
"H-HOW--"
"Hunk isn't the only one with a bad habit of reading diaries, you know," Pidge grinned devilishly at Lance.
"Yeah, it's honestly been our favorite pastime lately-- The Hopeless Chronicles of Lance and Keith, we've dubbed it," Hunk added with emphasis on their clever title.
Lance opened his mouth to respond but then just pushed his chair in violently before storming out. What was it, kick Lance while he was down day? "I'm going to go talk to Blue because SHE DOESN'T BETRAY ME LIKE THIS!" He yelled as he exited, the doors sliding shut behind him.
And of course. Blue could read his mind. Blue couldn't betray him by airing out his dirty laundry like his so-called friends had, she didn't waste the chance of lightly teasing him about his suppressed, angry crush.
Keith trudged to the training simulator a little while later with an...oddly heavy amount of clothing on. A turtleneck, his signature jacket, skinny jeans, and boots, all topped off with a beanie. They may have been in space, but it was not that cold.
He tried to train. He really, truly did. But this itching was spreading, he could feel it just crawling under his skin, and he was just as shitty as yesterday.
Keith relented, groaning in frustration and heading back to his room to check the spread, knocking past Lance on his way back, not bothering to apologize for bumping into him.
Blue dropped it after a while and for a long time, he just flew her around, idle conversation between them as they cruised the Arusian skies, but just like her impatient paladin, Blue broke down and started pestering him about it again.
"Alright, time to head in for a while," Lance had said aloud, a little more than annoyed. Blue was the only one here that he couldn't keep a single thing from, and while that might have allowed them to become closer, it was a little grating at times when he didn't want to talk about something.
So, once again, he cruised the hallways, trying to think of something to do now that the two people and one lion that he would normally go to in a time like this wouldn't stop talking about Keith and that was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn't even go to his diary in confidence now! He sighed, still wearing the tight pilot's undersuit, thinking about visiting the training deck for target practice, but besides, their uniform showed off his nice ass, Lance liked to think.
Then, speak of the devil and he shall appear-- and rudely at that.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, Kogane!" Lance threw up his arms in volatile outrage. Today just didn't seem to be his day. "And what are you dressing up for? The cold? Come on, my lion shoots ice and I'm still warm-- or are you just trying to cover up that stupid hickey?"
He really didn't have time to deal with this, but he paused and uttered a simple, "Fuck you."
The glare in his eyes seemed to have a more prominent yellow tint.
Keith's glare chilled Lance. He could use more clothes to warm him up from that cold look.
Lance squinted at Keith. Did his eyes look... yellow? He'd noted previously that they were a dark, dark shade of blue, strangely enough, but yellow was definitely a stretch.
"Are you-- fuck you too but-- are you, you know, feeling alright? Your eyes, you look-- sick, maybe,"
He gets that same panicked look on his face. "I'm fine. Healing pod woulda fixed it if it was a problem."
He was quick to walk back to his room, desperately hoping Lance wouldn't pry.
Were his eyes really yellow? Fuck.
Even though it was totally against the standoffish, assholish demeanor that he had aimed for when approaching any of his assailants from breakfast, Lance followed Keith. Having longer legs did have their perks, one being the ability to catch up quickly.
"Maybe the healing pods only heal injuries-- we don't even know if Alteans get sick at all, but I mean" Lance paused and laughed. "Even a healing pod might not be able to fix idiot-itis."
"Ha. Ha." He glared at Lance. "Better watch out or you'll catch whatever I've got." Keith turned and coughed obnoxiously loud, unintentionally showing off canines.
Very pointy ones.
His entire body was itching. Keith prayed to whatever god that was willing to help him that the itch wouldn't reach his face.
Lance blinked, rubbing his eyes a little to make sure of what he was seeing. Yellowish eyes, purple creeping out from under Keith's multitude of clothing articles and sharp teeth? This was scarily familiar.
"Keith- I--" His normal quick-thinking articulation was failing him. "Keith I don't think that close call of yours was just a little slip-up-- I think-- Something... Something is wrong, we need to tell someone,"
Fear was evident in his eyes, fear for Keith, fear that something irreversible and fatal was plaguing him.
"Don't be ridiculous. I can handle it," he grit out from between clenched teeth. “It's just a dumb cold."
He couldn't let Lance see him. Not like this. What if Lance attacked him? Thought he betrayed the team, that he was some brainless monster-?
"I'll just keep myself quarantined until I feel better. No big deal."
He slipped into his room quickly, locking the door and breathing a sigh of relief.
"Keith--!" Lance cursed under his breath as the door ever so rudely slammed in his face. He heard the lock click shortly thereafter. Stubborn was all this guy was, nothing else.
"Keith," he repeated with a bit of a sigh. "If you're not better by the morning, I'm telling someone." He frowned to himself. "I'm no snitch, but this could be serious." Did his voice seriously just shake? Did he seriously just let Keith Kogane himself know that he had an inkling of concern for him? Honestly, space was doing things to Lance that he wasn't sure he was a big fan of.
Keith heard the worry in Lance's voice. It was practically tangible, floating into the room and choking him. By the morning. By the morning.
Guess he'd have to be out by morning, then.
He stripped off all of the excess clothes, taking a better look at himself in the mirror.
That same lilac was encroaching on the edges of his face, the only yet untouched part of him. His ears were getting bigger and fluffier by the minute, it seemed, and his eyes had almost completely glossed over with an all-too-bright yellow.
He was staring straight into the face of the enemy.
The face of a destructive, manipulative, evil people.
Everything that Voltron was created to stop stared back at him in that moment.
And Keith broke down, weeping softly into his clawed hands as the itch overtook his face.
He stayed like that late into the night, not coming out for lunch and refusing dinner. The itch faded, but he didn't feel any better.
Lance managed to cover for Keith for the rest of the day, taking the prodding questions as well as Allura's anger at them not being able to form Voltron during team practice without Keith and lying to everyone. For now.
He slept very poorly, clearly worried. Not only had his crush on Keith been outed to everyone except Keith, (he could still give thanks for that small fact), but also something might be wrong with Keith. Terribly wrong. The next morning he waited, listening for four other doors to open and close, but only three did. He laid in bed for a while longer, listening for the fourth, hoping that Hunk had slept in and that was why he wasn't hearing it, but the sinking feeling of Keith being the one who had not emerged settled in on him, weighing on him like a ton of bricks as he finally pushed himself out of bed.
Quietly, he walked down the hall, his limbs heavy from dread, but also from fatigue. Lance knocked softly on the red and white door that clearly belonged to Keith. "Hey," he whispered. "Are you still in there?"
The door opened, but no one was inside but chaos itself. All the bed sheets had been tossed aside, dressers rummaged through, and a sheet had been thrown over the mirror. Keith had done this in a frenzy last night, before running to Red, in hopes he could escape to some far corner of the universe before his friends tried to kill him. But when he needed Red most, she failed him. She wouldn't open up for him, despite an hour's worth of struggling. In red hot fury, he burst from the castle and ran into the Arusian wilderness beyond it. Here, maybe, he could find some peace.
He wasn't fit to be part of Voltron anymore.
Red had told him that without even uttering a word.