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“¡Papá! ¡Papá!” Small tan hands reached up to a dark haired moustached man. “¡Caballito!”
The man chuckled, tone warm and amused even as he shook his head. “Lancito,” he smiled, “Es tiempo para cenar. Tu Mamá —”
“¿Por favor?” came the plea, the scene bouncing as though the speaker was jumping from foot to foot and grin practically audible. “¿Una vez más?”
The man let out a sigh that sounded only fond and he dropped to one knee on the gravel-like small front yard in front of the worn but cared for looking home.
A childish squeal of delight sounded and everything shifted forward as they moved forward, clambering atop the man’s back—
“Faster, Pop, faster!” and the scene shifted to an inside room with high steel beams and metal plating and a glimpse of a fire truck blurring in the corner.
“You want faster?” came a just as excited if more mischievous voice. “All right then…”
The scene blurred more and pale hands flung themselves out as though they were wings, the thrill of such running through them as if they went faster they could fly.
The view went up as they threw their head back, laughing—
And came back down in a dizzying spiral of green grass tickling their face and arms as they rolled down a hill, laughing and a shrieking childish voice of, “Katie, wait! If you break your neck Mom and Dad are gonna kill me!” to a louder and older sounding, “yahoo!” and a woman going, “Oh, Sam, not you too!”
They only laughed in response even as they came to a stop, sprawled on their back and looking up at puffy clouds in a bright blue sky, dandelion fluffs floating over and oh no, they were about to—
The sneeze rattled their skulls and the room they were now in — a comfortable looking den — seemed to shake and a woman’s soft murmur sounded along with the sensation of a blanket wrapping around their shoulders and a kiss pressed to the top of their head.
“Oh, sweetie,” came a murmur and the woman settled in next to them, pulling them against her and they snuggled in, comfortable despite the stuffiness of their nose and the churning of their stomach. “Up to trying the soup we made?”
They nodded even though they had no plans to move as they were so comfortable—
Wrinkled hands pulled the blanket up to their chin, smoothing it down as glow-in-the-dark stars peppered the ceiling above with posters of planets and spaceships and they wriggled beneath the comforter to pull their stuffed bunny Usagi-chan to sleep on the pillow with them.
“Dream sweet, Takashi,” the woman said. “You have big day with Ojisan tomorrow, yes?”
“The space museum,” came the breathless whisper of delight.
“So must sleep now,” she smiled at them. “Oyasumi, Takashi.”
“Oyasumi, Obaasan,” they said, closing their eyes, the scene going dark—
And then it was super bright — too bright — of the gleaming white walls of the Altean castle and they all blinked and groaned and Keith was grateful for the fact everyone seemed to be covering their eyes to it as he pressed his palms to his, fighting back hot tears before anyone could see.
That had been…
He’d…
He’d heard Pop.
He’d never thought…
After all this time...
He pressed his hands harder into his eyes.
“Paladins, is everyone all right?” Coran’s voice sounded above the groans. “Your sequencing was superb, especially for a first time attempting such an exercise.”
“We’re good, Coran,” Shiro answered for all of them, but his voice had the barest shake to it and it was enough to make Keith lower his hands to look at Shiro sitting next to him.
His face was pale and he had a hand pressed over his mouth as though trying not to cry.
In fact…
Everyone looked like they were about ready to cry and it seemed Lance actually was, his face pressed into Hunk’s shoulder and Hunk had an arm tight around him, murmuring.
Just like Hunk’s mom had to them in the memory sequence.
Keith looked away feeling as though he were intruding, even if that was barely anything after what they’d just experienced.
They had connected a few times through the mindmeld when they formed Voltron, but there was always sort of a wall around each of them. Almost as though while they were all in the same house, Coran had explained, they were in separate rooms and if anyone tried to go past their own room they had doors to close to keep them out.
It worked, that was true, but Allura and Coran had said they would be able to form Voltron quicker and power it more efficiently if they were able to open those doors to one another — essentially allowing the others into their own minds and that was absolutely terrifying to Keith as there was so much in his head he didn’t want anyone to ever see — and the only way to do that was practice. Practice, Coran had said, would allow them to more easily go through those rooms but also train their minds so they could guide others through them.
Essentially, Keith interpreted, keep them out of the closets full of potential skeletons inside the rooms.
And that was something he very much would like to keep closed.
Sequencing was the best way to establish and train those connections, Coran instructed, which would sync their thoughts to flow seamlessly from one to another. He suggested for practice that they all focus on happy childhood memories — not necessarily a particular one but a feeling of contentment or joy or feeling safe and comforted — and the mindmeld headsets and their connections to one another through Voltron would take care of the rest. They just had to relax, Coran said, and let it flow.
And it had.
He just…
He hadn’t expected it to be like that.
So real.
As though Pop was still…
And goddamnit, his eyes were stinging again.
“Then I shall take my leave,” Coran said, his voice softer and as Keith looked up at him through blurred eyes he could almost see Lance’s dad in Coran’s moustache and expression, gentle and fond, and knowing that although the theme had been happy memories…
There was a lot more to them than just that.
And this was for all of them to talk about it amongst themselves.
To Keith’s surprise it was not Shiro who gathered them all back.
“I miss them,” came the soft, tear-clogged voice of Lance, his cheeks flushed and tear-stained and not doing anything to try to cover it up and open in a way Keith had never seen him. “Papá and Mamá and, and,” he waved his right hand, left ensconced inside of Hunk’s, before giving a shake of his head.
Keith felt a pang of bitterness that he swallowed back because at least Lance had a family to go home to.
His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms through the gloves, and he focused on the dull pain from the action rather than the sharp ache in his chest at his reminder of all he’d lost.
He had no one waiting for him back at home.
But then again, neither did—
“I know, buddy,” Shiro said gently. “And you’ll get to see them again. They’d be so proud of you, Lance.”
Lance sniffled and rubbed his free hand across his eyes. “Gracias, Shiro,” he whispered.
“Does anyone else want to talk about their memory?” Shiro asked and Keith could see him straightening up, his calm and focus returning at the direction.
He could also see that Shiro’s hands were clenched just like his own in his lap.
And Keith surprised himself as he reached over and placed one of his own atop Shiro’s and Shiro’s eyes flicked over to him, understanding and gratitude swimming in them for Keith knew exactly how he felt.
Shiro wasn’t the only one whose memories featured loved ones that were no longer here.
“Well,” Pidge cleared her throat, her glasses no longer on her face but cradled in her hands, “if anyone wanted to know, I clearly did not break my neck as Matt feared but my dad did manage to twist his ankle and my mom had to piggyback him back to the car.”
She let out a wet snort as she shook her head. “My family is a bunch of dorks. I… I hope…”
“They’re okay, Pidgeon,” Lance said softly, more perceptively than Keith had heard him before, “and you’re gonna find them. We’re all gonna find them.”
She nodded and slipped her glasses — Matt’s glasses — back onto her face, looking steadier too.
“We made chicken tortilla soup,” Hunk said into the quiet. “Me and my mom. I caught a cold and stayed home from school and we made soup because soup always made me feel better. Maybe,” Hunk’s gentle eyes moved about the circle, “we can all make soup for dinner tonight? Together?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Hunk,” Shiro smiled.
And as the quiet returned Keith was well aware that he was the only one who hadn’t spoken at all, and he and Shiro were the only ones who had yet to say anything about their memories, and he could feel eyes on him.
He lowered his gaze so he didn’t have to meet any of them.
“Do you think,” Lance asked quietly, almost hesitantly, “that we can see more of our memories like that again? But, but maybe… just by ourselves?”
Keith’s head jerked up at the implication and Lance’s eyes were on him, red-rimmed still but something knowing and sad in his gaze.
It had been no secret at the Garrison after that asshole Griffin’s announcement that Keith didn’t have parents, even if no one knew what exactly he had had after Pop had died.
And so hearing Keith calling someone ‘Pop’ in a memory…they knew that had to be his dad. They knew that had to be the time before he became an orphan.
And they’d all been able to feel Keith’s joy and excitement and the love he’d had for Pop in that glimpse of a memory.
And, and if what Lance was saying was possible…
Keith could see Pop again.
He could hear him.
Maybe singing him his favorite lullaby or watching the sunrise together or Pop tucking him into bed and pressing a kiss to his head or—
Keith couldn’t hold back the tears that time nor the choked sob and he pressed a hand over his mouth to keep quiet, to keep it in.
That plan was thwarted as Shiro tugged him over by their joined hands and he was pulled into a hug that he couldn’t have pulled himself out of even if he wanted to and it just made the tears want to come harder and he buried his face in Shiro’s chest as though that could hide both him and his tears.
“I’ve got you, buddy,” Shiro murmured and the arms tightened around him, rocking him gently. “It’s all right. It,” his voice hitched, “it was really good to see them again, wasn't it?”
“Oh,” and Lance sounded horrified, “Sh-Shiro, I didn’t realize—”
“It’s okay,” Shiro kindly interrupted him. “My grandparents passed a few years ago. They’re together, at peace. It was just… I admit I was not expecting it to be quite like that. So… real.” He swallowed thickly, Keith feeling it under his head. “But to your question, Lance, I would imagine so. This Altean tech… it seems to be capable of quite a lot.”
“I’ll say,” Pidge muttered, but there was no heat to it.
The quiet came back, but it didn’t feel so heavy now.
It did, however, make it harder for Keith to convince himself to sit back up, feeling his cheeks darken at the fact he’d just broken down crying in front of all of them as while they might be teammates and Keith trusted them he didn’t know any of them other than Shiro.
But as he looked around there was no judgment on anyone’s faces, no smirks or jokes. Just shared understanding and empathy and it…
It was comforting.
It made the tightness release in his chest and he shuddered out a breath and then another.
“You know,” Hunk said, tapping his chin, “I had glow-in-the-dark stars in my bedroom too when I was a kid. Although you definitely had cooler ones, Shiro; I didn’t have planets.”
“So did I,” Lance raised his hand. “Marco and Luis…” he swallowed before continuing, “they said a nightlight was for babies but they were okay with the stars. I had them all over my bunkbed and the walls since Mamá wouldn’t let us put them on the ceiling.”
“I also had them,” Pidge said, “although they were different colors. The pink ones were shit though; barely held a glow.”
“Language,” Shiro scolded with a smile and Pidge stuck her tongue out at him.
“I,” and Keith’s voice was a rasp he barely recognized and he froze as every eye turned to him.
He made himself keep going.
“I did too,” he said. “Have glow-in-the-dark stars.”
“Of course we all did,” Lance grinned and he gave Keith a gentle nudge with his knee, “because we were all super cool kids.”
“I wonder what happened to you,” Pidge smirked and Lance let out a gasp and pressed a hand to his heart, grinning all the while.
Keith felt his own lips curving up as he laughed with the team, at this warm feeling of belonging.
And he added the afternoon to his collection of happy memories that he could open his door to.