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Keith had a bad feeling even before the phone rang.
Call it intuition or premonition, but he couldn't stop tossing and turning in his bed, an uneasy feeling building up in his gut ever since he switched off the lights. The numeric figures on the clock had shown it was four in the morning, a perfectly unacceptable time to be wide awake staring at the ceiling of his room. It was also a perfectly unacceptable time to phone anyone, but then again Allura had a knack for these things.
"Keith?" Allura’s voice crackled through the receiver.
"Uh yeah?"
"We're meeting in the central lounge, so get here quick okay?"
"Why?" Keith asked, but Allura hadn't waited for response, most likely because there was none that could justify him not showing up.
Knowing this, and knowing his bed couldn't offer him a chance at sleep, he threw the covers off of his body and stood up. Keith blindly groped the wall for the light switch. When he found it he had to stand with his head against the wall blinking steadily and slowly until his eyes didn't burn from the incandescent light. He took this time to go over the reasons why Allura would call so early. It wasn't something Galra related, he knew this, her voice had been too excited for something as serious at that. This thought did nothing to dispel the dread building in his gut. The last time she called him up this late at night she had the same exuberant expression in her tone―he shivered at the memory of that day.
Keith pushed himself away from the wall, fumbling for his clothes that he had packed tightly into the drawers of his room. Switching out of his pajamas into his everyday clothes became a bigger challenge than it should have. He blamed the hour and severe lack of sleep to be the cause of this. At one point he stumbled trying to complete the switch and lost his balance, slamming his face into the wall, no doubt leaving an ugly bruise to show for it. He debated on checking to see the extent of the injury and whether or not he should apply an icepack to his throbbing head, but ultimately decided against it. He couldn't afford to keep Allura waiting anymore than he already had, so with that in mind he quietly slipped out of the room.
Unbeknownst to Allura, the whole crew had utilized the whiteboard in the central lounge to write the amount of days since the last "accident". The aforementioned "accident" was referring to the last time Allura had a new idea for the paladins. When Keith walked into the room, Hunk had finished erasing the last number (it has been twenty one days) and replaced a large zero in its place.
"No," said Keith, staring in horror at the board, it was as he thought.
"Yes," sighed Pidge, who had been sitting on the sofa fiddling with what seemed to be spare parts of some sort of robot.
"No," Keith repeated, this time with less surprise and more apprehension of what would come.
"Yes," this time it was from Shiro, who was staring at the whiteboard, arms crossed, with a look of grim determination on his face.
"Hello everybody, how's the team doing?" Lance entered the room, patting his hair in an attempt to fix its disheveled state.
"Don't let him see the board," Shiro whispered. Keith moved the fastest, stepping in front of Lance's way, serving as the last line of defense between him and the whiteboard. Lance's cheery mood had vaporized at the sight of him, and he looked at Keith with annoyance.
"Agh Keith, I don't like to see you this early in the morning."
"The feeling is mutual."
Lance peered at Keith with slitted eyes,“What’s wrong with your head?”
Keith brought a self-conscience hand up to his forehead, the skin was tender under his fingers. Bruised, just as he thought.
“Is that concern I hear? I didn’t know you could have any other emotion except spite.”
Lance folded his arms and stuck his nose in the air, “Like a wave of negativity your insults just roll right off me.”
“The only thing rolling is my eyes.”
Admist their bickering, Pidge had jumped off the sofa and stood by the board with Hunk, furiously scrubbing at the whiteboard in an attempt to remove and replace the 0 with the previously written 21. They would change it later, Keith knew, when Lance didn't have the time to exercise his dramatic tendencies without Allura present. Lance made a motion to step around Keith, but Keith swiftly moved to block the other boy's stride.
“If I didn't know any better I would think you were trying to block me.” Lance poked an accusatory finger into Keith’s chest.
“Good thing you know better.”
“I am this―” Lance pressed his thumb and his index finger together, “―done with you.”
"Hunk you used permanent marker," Pidge whisper-shouted.
"Oh seriously? Again?”
The doors to the lounge burst open with a dramatic flare and Allura came strolling in with Coran close behind.
"Paladins!" She said as greeting. "I have an idea!"
Allura, much to Keith’s surprise, didn't have the bags under her eyes that haunted the paladins, or the groggy movements of someone who had just been woken up. Keith could almost admire how unaffected she looked being up so early.
Almost.
Lance was the first to respond to the announcement, he pushed past Keith and collapsed dramatically on the couch,
"I..." Lance trailed off and started coughing. "I suddenly can’t feel my body."
Keith rolled his eyes for the second time in less than ten minutes, and saw the other paladins doing the same, except Shiro, who was just staring at Lance with a sort of parental disappointment.
"Lance—" he started, but Allura quickly cut him off. She stood over Lance, hands on her hips, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth down.
"Are you—" he reached a hand up, but let it drop as if the strength had drained from his body. "An angel?"
"Okay that's enough—" Shiro tried again, but he was cut off by Pidge, who turned to Allura, batting her eyes.
"Allura I haven't finished reprogramming this." Pidge held up the dismembered bot that was hanging in defeat from her hand. Keith glared Pidge down, but Pidge wouldn't look at him. She had been neglecting the robot for days now, which Keith found suspect in and of itself, but now he knew there was reasoning behind that, and that Pidge had somehow knew what Allura was planning. Keith continued to glare, but Pidge expertly avoided his gaze.
"Is that so?" Allura raised an inquisitive brow.
She turned to Lance first, "I guess I'll have to give you the Altean cold medicine, we need everyone to be in top shape, who knows when Zarkon might come for us. Right Coran?”
“Yes princess, the Altean cold medicine is the best medicine in the universe. Lance I’m sure you’ll feel the effects immediately, you’ll be in top shape in no time! I mean after the side effects wear off of course...” Coran trailed off, mumbling things like, “sharp and crushing chest pain” and “red, swollen, painful, itchy skin”and lastly, Keith’s personal favorite, “a stomach pain so terrible you wish you never even took the medicine in the first place.”
Lance peeked one eye open, “Is that the medicine you gave Hunk three weeks ago?”
Allura winked, “Exactly that.”
The change was almost instantaneous, Lance shot up from the couch so fast Keith got whiplash at just watching it.
"It's a miracle! A gift from above," Lance sank to his knees in prayer. "I reject thee, grim reaper."
Keith glanced over a Hunk who looked queasy, one hand clutching the table in support. “Please don’t ever talk about that medicine again.”
Coran tsk’d, “But it cured you in less than an hour didn’t it?”
“Yes... but at what cost?”
Allura turned her attention onto Pidge, who was still holding the robot but with considerably less enthusiasm.
“Now Pidge—”
“You know what? Screw the robot.” Pidge chucked the piece of junk over her shoulder. “What's this idea of yours?
-
Allura led the group into a room Keith had never seen before.
It was built like a miniature amphitheater, with the back of the room being elevated and gradually sloping downwards. Wooden benches were placed in semi-circle, all pointing towards one large projector. The room was dim and Keith had to take careful steps to ensure that he didn't miss his footing. He wondered what the use of this room was before their group began to inhabit the spacecraft. It looked a lot like a lecture hall, but what purpose did a room like that serve in the middle of space? It seemed the more he thought he had the ship memorized, the more it tried to throw him off.
As they all piled in, Keith searched out Pidge’s head and followed her up the steps to the top of the theater.
“How did you know?” he whispered when they both sat down. It was kind of ridiculous, whatever Allura had planned hadn't yet started so there was no reason to be quiet, but there was something about the dim light and echoing space that reminded Keith of a movie theater, so he had lowered his voice, more out of instinct than anything else.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Pidge responded, feigning innocence.
“You had that robot for days, I find it hard to believe that the ever so brilliant engineer would not have jumped on it the moment her hands held it.”
“Compliments will get you nowhere.”
“Pidge...”
“It’s not like I don’t want to tell you!” Pidge exclaimed, and Coran swiveled around in his seat.
“Indoor voices!”
“Sorry!” Pidge ducked her head. “The thing is, if I tell you I’ll have to relive the memories,” she shuddered.
“What are you talking about?”
Pidge sighed, “I was just fooling around on the computers, I wasn’t looking for anything specific, but I came across this folder labeled Coran’s things so I clicked it.” Pidge looked like she was going to be sick. “It was a bunch of useless mumbo-jumbo, but there was one video called Allura’s Project, and I thought that it might be interesting.”
“You were snooping!”
“I didn’t mean too!” Pidge protested, looking truly guilty. “But after what we went through last time —” this time they both shuddered. “I wanted to be prepared! I watched the video we’re going to watch now...” Keith looked down at Coran and Allura who were whispering something to each other, the lights started to dim even more.
“But there was another video.”
“Another video?” Keith asked, still not understanding. The projector lit up and soft music began to filter out of the speakers.
“I got too greedy, I shouldn’t have been in there in the first place.”
“What—Pidge, what are you talking about?”
“He was singing and playing a guitar.”
“Who?”
“Coran.”
Keith glared at her, “Oh come on, now you’re just being mean.”
“No Keith, all he had was a guitar.” Pidge put her face into her hands. “Oh god, my poor virgin eyes.”
“What are you—oh no Pidge” Keith saw it now, his mind had finally connected the dots, and produced a nauseating picture for him. Before he could offer up his condolences, the video began to play. The camera was focused on Coran who was dressed in a sharp military looking outfit. Keith had a hard time looking at him, his mind still displaying the picture of Coran with just a guitar.
Oh indeed.
“Listen up chicklings from here on out things are about to get ugly,” the pre-recorded Coran yelled. Keith guessed this was Coran’s attempt to mimic some sort of military commander, and he was surprisingly good at it. “You think you know what pain is, but what you’ve experienced is only a small part of what is to come.”
The screen faded into a picture of what looked to be some sort of gun but with a pouch protruding from the top. The pouch became transparent and its contents were shown to be what looked like small colored balls.
“Gumballs!” Hunk and Lance cried.
“No, these are not gumballs,” the Coran in the screen spoke.
“Aww.”
“The rules are clear. There will be two opposing teams facing against each other in a virtual landscape, created by yours truly. The objective is simple, capture the other team's flag, and try not to get hit. If you do get hit, well…”
The picture switched to one of an animated simulator of a person dressed in cameo ducked behind a wooden crate. On the other side was another person also in cameo, their figure was outlined in red denoting them as the enemy. The enemy sim unleashed two shots, the camera zooming into them in slow motion as they passed through the air.
“With one shot from these nasty buggers, you’ll experience a pain so intense you’ll be crying for your mommas.”
“Is this really appropriate?” Shiro whispered, only to be shushed by both Allura and Coran.
“A second consecutive shot will double that pain,” the video continued. Bright flashes of light illuminated the theater, the camera violently zoomed in and out multiple times, someone screamed.
“Lance, what the hell?” Pidge whacked the top of Lance’s head.
“Sorry, I got carried away.”
Keith watched with a mix of both horror and awe as the two shots landed on the target sim who was easily crippled, their body jerking back at the force of the fake bullet. A burst of red light pulsed from the area that was assaulted.
“Finally, the third consecutive bullet leads to paralyzation of the infected spot.” Now the enemy figure stood over the other, pointing the barrel of the gun at their chest and unleashing the last bullet.
“Paralyzation lasts for five whole minutes. In order to avoid getting to this last stage, you must wait a minimum of sixty seconds between each bullet hitting your body.”
Hunk raised his hand tentatively in the air, “What happens if you get hit four consecutive times?”
The video Coran leaned into camera, “Do you want to find out?”
This time Keith felt a chill run down his spine, not at the scarily accurate pre-recorded responses, though that was definitely creepy, but at the thought of losing control of his body. Not being able to move when his mind was fully awake. He dug his nails deep into the palms of his hands and willed the thoughts away.
“The game you're all about to enter requires teamwork, cooperation, strategy, and stamina the likes you've never experienced before.”
A gasp shook the room.
“Is everyone conveniently forgetting that we literally faced off against Zarkon and his minions?” Keith asked in disbelief.
“Shh!”
“Oh my god.”
“If you even think you’re prepared, you’re wrong,” Coran continued, “But you don’t really have a choice.” There was a loud clank from the back of the theater that sounded like a door unlocking. The lights began to flicker back to life, and Coran still in the military uniform, saluted the audience.
“I’d wish you all luck, but—uh—no amount of luck will save you now. Welcome cadets, to Altean speedball.”
The room was silent. By now the lights were fully ablaze, and the projector had shut off, and with it the music.
“So?” Coran inquired, standing up from his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Thoughts? Opinions? What you liked?” Coran paused, and continued less enthusiastically, “What you didn’t like?”
“Are you crazy?” Keith sputtered, there had to be limits on what one person should go through at five in the morning. Participating in an extreme sport, modified to be even more extreme was probably somewhere on that list.
Coran huffed, clearly not expecting Keith’s answer. “Am I crazy? I’ll have you know that I spent nearly one week perfecting that video!”
“One week? Yikes,” Pidge mumbled.
“To be shamed like this is terribly unfair. I would like to see you—”
Shiro quickly intervened. “I think Keith was just alluding to that old adage—the fine line between genius and insanity, and this video was just… smack in the middle of that line. An excellent mix of both.”
Keith was not in fact alluding to anything at all, but a quick jab in the ribs from Pidge kept him from saying so.
“Well when you put it that way….” Coran straightened out his shoulders, and Allura turned to Shiro, giving him an encouraging nod.
“Thank you Shiro, that’s an excellent way to put it.” Allura looked at the paladins with sympathy, a look that clearly expressed that the presentation wasn’t something she was responsible for.
“Basically the reason I brought all of you here together was to try out a new teamwork exercise I invented,” Allura continued, climbing the stairs to stand in front of the door Keith heard unlock earlier, Coran close on her heels.
“If it's anything like last time…” Shiro trailed off, not needing to finish the rest of the sentence. The paladins all visibly recoiled at the words.
“Don’t worry,” Allura grinned, turning towards the huddled group. “It’s better.”
-
It wasn’t even seven in the morning and things somehow gotten substantially worse than when they began.
“Even you Shiro?” Keith asked, hurt marring his tone. He was still reeling from the betrayal, and all he could do was stare at the three in front of him in hollow shock.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying to do what’s best for you,” Shiro shook his head, not meeting Keith’s gaze.
“Pidge?” Hunk prodded, looking at his friend for any sign of pity.
“You gotta do what you gotta do,” was Pidge’s reply. At least she had the decency to bite her lip in a slight sign of remorse.
Lance turned to Allura, “Allura—”
“Don’t even try it.”
“Fair enough.”
When Allura herded the group into the room behind the theater, the teams had already been decided. It turned out there was a reason why Allura had spent her time crafting a sport that relied heavily on team participation.
That reason was Lance and Keith. Apparently their ability to work as a team was being called into question, and this was their way of answering.
Hunk, though he considered both boys to be his good friends, felt it unfair that he would have to shoulder the burden of mediating the two of them. Also, he had little hope that they would win when both of his teammates could barely stand to be in the same room together.
Coran clapped his hands together. “Well now that that’s settled—”
“Settled?! Hunk and I are stuck on a team with Keith!” Lance protested, and Keith rolled his eyes.
“Keith is an excellent fighter, I don't see the problem.”
“And my Abuelita is the most pious lady in the galaxy, but I would never be caught dead with her in church when she sweared like sailor. ”
“I’m not really sure what that means, but—” Coran made a shooing motion with his hands, “—get to your rooms you have fifteen minutes to discuss strategy before we start.”
There was really no point in arguing and Keith felt his shoulders sag with resignation. Hunk and Lance led the way to their door to the left side of the room, while Pidge, Allura, and Shiro made their way to the other side.
“Keith,” Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t focus on the negative, think about your situation okay?”
“What are you talking about?” Keith eyed Shiro suspiciously, there wasn’t much to be gained by being on the same team as someone who could barely stand you.
Shiro gave him a pointed look before following Allura and Pidge inside their room. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Keith felt his face flush a deep red. Of course Shiro would bring that up. Keith looked over at Lance who was laughing at something Hunk had said, and something in Keith’s gut twisted. He couldn’t help his feelings for the other paladin. Lance was a lot of things, a lot of annoying things, but that was only a small part of him believe it or not. Keith just wished Lance showed the other parts of him when it was just the two of them. It didn’t help either, that whenever Keith had a crush he resorted to unconventional means to win them over. In fact the first time Keith developed a crush he had punched the poor kid in the stomach and ran away crying.
He’s definitely improved in that regard.
"Okay," said Lance, once they entered the prep room. "Say your worst fear."
"What, why?" Keith asked bewildered, stopping his inspection of the guns Coran had left them with, and the practice dummies that were poorly constructed with canvas fabric, red targets painted on their chests. Lance rolled his eyes as if his proposal really needed explaining.
"It's a typical team bonding exercise Keith! Jeez everyone knows this." Lance looked at Hunk for confirmation, and Hunk nodded, as if what Lance was saying made any sort of sense.
"Lance is right. We have to know each other as deep as we know ourselves."
"Wow buddy," Lance patted Hunk on the shoulder. "I don't know myself that well, but I like where your mind is at."
"Well I'm not scared of anything," said Keith, turning away from the other two and picking up the third gun on the shelf. The room had tons of them, it was just about finding the one that felt the best. Keith also noticed that the “protective gear” was just a black uniform of sorts, with slight padding over the chest area. He recalled the way the bullets had knocked the simulator down, and knew that the padding was more for show than anything else. Luckily, on the right side of the room masks hung from metal hooks. The masks seemed to cover everything below the eyes, meaning he didn't risk getting whatever was in those fake bullets in his mouth.
"God that was so edgy. Look, I'm bleeding," Lance held up his hand and Keith smacked it away.
"Do you even hear yourself when you speak? Or do you close your eyes and just hope for the best?"
Hunk was inspecting Keith, oblivious to the bickering between the two. "Didn't you say you used to research cryptids? Like you had a mad fear of Mothm—"
"Hunk!" cried Keith.
"No..." Lance put a hand over his mouth his eyes filling with tears. "Please don't tell me Keith has a fear of Mothman, I don't know if I could survive it."
"Mothman is a real and dangerous threat," Keith defended, angrily crossing his arms.
"Yes, maybe to your fur coat," Lance wheezed, oblivious to Keith's budding anger, or if he did realize it he choose to ignore it. “I don’t even need to make fun of you anymore, you’ve out done me.”
"Keith," Hunk started, trying to pacify the group yet the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards. "I think it's okay to have irrational fears, lots of people—"
"It's not irrational! Have you even read the news reports!?"
"He reads the news reports!" Lance yelled, throwing his head back and laughing even harder until he was on the floor.
“What are you afraid of then?” Keith demanded, it was only fair Lance shared his own fear if he had the audacity to laugh at his own, completely valid, fear.
Lance sobered up immediately. “Actually, I… I don't know if you've heard of him.”
“Heard of him?” questioned Hunk. “You’re afraid of a person?”
Lance nodded, scratching the back of his neck.“He’s uh, well he’s been haunting my dreams ever since I was a kid.”
Silence descended over the room, Keith despite himself felt intrigued and not because it would serve as ammo for future situations.
Lance tucked his hands into his pockets. “It’s Mothman's cousin actually, his name is Batman.”
Keith didn't remember launching himself at Lance, but he did. In a matter of seconds, Keith was chasing a crying Lance around the room, brandishing the gun like a sword and swinging in at Lance’s direction.
“I’m going to kill you!” Keith growled.
“Yeah okay moth boy,” Lance mocked. Keith charged Lance, and Hunk glanced up at the clock, they had less than five minutes left to discuss strategy and find out how the hell the guns in front of them worked.
“Guys,” Hunk called, but his voice was drowned out by Lance yelping as Keith’s gun barely missed his head.
“Guys!” Hunk tried again, no response.
Hunk took a deep breath, “ENOUGH!” he shouted, and both boys froze. Keith had Lance trapped in a headlock, but at the sound of Hunk’s voice he let him go. Lance dropped to the floor, patting down his hair and scowling at Keith.
"Let’s just get changed and try shooting at the dummy for practice okay?" Hunk asked, though it wasn’t really a question and the other boys knew it. Keith and Lance nodded silently and all three of them got changed into the black clothing.
"I think this is a waste of time," Keith said, once they were done and standing in front of the dummies, not bothering to lift his gun.
"You're a waste of time," Lance shot back.
"Oh ouch, I'll make sure to cry about that before I go to sleep tonight."
"I knew you thought about me before you go to sleep," Lance winked, prompting Keith to make an obscene gesture in return.
"Okay guys," Hunk spoke up, putting out his hands in a placating gesture. "We can all just shoot a couple rounds so Coran doesn't lecture us about 'team participation' when he returns, and it looks like we actually did something except yell “bloody murder” at each other."
Keith found it hard to argue with Hunk, especially when he brought up a valid point. He glanced over at Lance who was mumbling under his breath, but didn't voice any rejection.
Keith lifted his gun and unloaded four rounds into the doll, which to his surprise didn't fling around under the force of the bullets. Keith watched as the dummy's chest and stomach bloomed with blue paint.
"Great. That was fun. Are we done?"
Before anyone could reply, Lance unloaded his own bullets into the dummy, they followed each other in quick succession, like an assembly line, until they all reached the same point at the center of the painted target on the dummy's fabric chest.
Lance's smile was triumphant as he pretend to blow smoke from the gun's barrel. "How does it feel to be among the presence of a god?"
"Nauseating."
Hunk was clapping, eyes wide. "Lance that was awesome!"
Contrary to Keith’s snarky reply, he couldn't help but be impressed. Keith was aware Lance was good at guns, he just hadn’t known the extent. Looking at him now, as he aimed at another dummy, Keith admired the level of concentration Lance reached, evening out his breaths and standing perfectly still and in perfect form. Keith looked away, he was still angry at Lance for Mothman, but he couldn’t help but watch as Lance pulled the trigger. The bullets, unsurprisingly, found their mark at the center of the dummy once more.
They spent the remainder of their time like that, practicing shooting on the dummies with different guns, testing out which ones felt right and which ones didn’t until the time was up and Keith felt somewhat confident in their ability to win.
The door to their room opened, and Coran waved them over. They refilled their guns and grabbed the masks off the wall. Before they stepped out Hunk stopped.
“We need a team name.”
The thought had slipped Keith’s mind completely, he didn’t really see the point in team names, but one look at Hunk’s face and he knew this subject was non negotiable.
“Why don’t we just combine the first letters of our name?” Keith suggested, that sounded reasonable enough.
Lance scoffed, “Oh my god, only losers do that.”
Keith whirled on him, “Got any better ideas?”
“Yeah, anything but that,” the two glared each other down.
Hunk put his arms around both their shoulders. “It’s okay I got just the thing.”
-
Both groups stood in front of the door leading back into the theater which Coran informed them was no longer a theater, and that it was never, in fact, a theater in the first place. Before they went in, Coran reiterated the rules. The first team to capture the flag and bring it back to their respective base won, physical contact was allowed but that didn't mean you could start a brawl right then and there, and finally, the most important rule, “have fun”.
“What did you name your group?” Lance asked Shiro, as Coran typed something into the keypad and the door made a clunk sound.
“Team APS, it’s just the letters of our first name combined,” Shiro said, slinging the gun onto his back. “What about you guys?”
Lance looked over his shoulder at both Hunk and Keith, “Told you.”
Keith released an exasperated breath, but made no move to inform Shiro on their team name. Hunk would do that for them.
“It’s Team If Keith and Lance don’t get along Hunk will find away to drag out this misery until they do,” Hunk said, and both Lance and Keith winced at the name.
Shiro laughed, “You’re kidding”
Hunk looked him dead in the eye. “No, I’m not”
“You can just call us Team Friendship is Magic,” Lance supplied, “Its the same thing.”
Before Shiro could say anything else, Coran opened the door into pitch black darkness, allowing Allura, Pidge, and Shiro to go in first so they could set up their flag and choose their base location. Normally they would flip a coin, but Lance declared that he had to go to the bathroom, so Coran just said Team APS could go in first. Keith started into the gaping darkness and felt his stomach churn.
“They’re so going to beat us,” Keith grumbled, putting on his mask.
“They’ve already won if you start thinking like that,” Hunk reasoned, and Keith only grumbled in response, knowing that what Hunk was saying was true. “Plus, you should never underestimate the underdog.”
As if on cue, Lance marched out of the bathroom, a look of determination on his face. He stood beside Keith, slipping on his own mask.
“Somebody better call the reptile hunter,” Lance aimed the gun at the darkness. “Because it's snake season.”