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There was a time when Keith liked to think of all the people in the world as puzzle pieces, that a family was a complete puzzle, that your friends were the ones who had the right shape to join this puzzle. Then, he was alone, and he couldn’t seem to find anyone to complete, or even add to his puzzle. His childish naivety stayed, but twisted his sentiment into something different, a new belief. If everyone was a puzzle piece, he was one with jagged and torn edges, one that couldn’t fit in with anyone.
This belief continued to prove itself, when his first foster family sent him to another one after three months, and then the next after two, and then even less, and then he stopped keeping track, until the last took care of his essential needs but did nothing else, and then sent him to the Garrison when he punched two students and they couldn’t explain how they hadn’t noticed his struggles.
He still believes something like this, that everyone has a place in the world. He still believes something like this, that his place is to be by himself. He had a family, and it was torn from him, and pieces of him stayed behind, and he found a brother in Shiro and a friend in Matt and in Adam, and he lost Shiro and Matt in one fell swoop and he left Adam before Adam could leave him when he realized that Adam couldn’t look at him without thinking of Shiro, and so another family was torn from him, and too much of him went with them.
(he still remembers adam hugging him, fingers digging into his shoulders and tears dripping down his back like acid, the act feeling more like an act of violence than one of comfort)
He ran. Of course he did. What else was he supposed to do? Nobody believed Shiro was still out there, and Keith couldn’t do that . He couldn’t let go, he couldn’t just accept something like that. His hands only ceased their shaking when he passed out of exhaustion, and he didn’t understand how anyone could tell him to let go of the only person that had ever believed in him, to let go of his brother.
He almost died in the desert. He let his pain become sadness and it crippled him and he almost died. One night, when he was weary with exhaustion and dehydration and grief , he realized he was on the brink of death, and instead of letting himself fall into it, something in his heart twisted and screamed to be heard and it was his pain, tearing him apart once more and instead of feeling the same sadness he had for weeks, all he felt was anger. Fuck angry, he was pissed . He dragged himself from the couch and survived. He survived, and he felt something calling him. He followed that calling, and he found his brother.
That anger, that rage, it saved his life. It found his brother.
And so, he tucked it into his heart and let it stay. He clung to Shiro tighter than he’d ever clung to anything, and he clung to that rage even tighter, because it worked . He had been angry for years, angry that he’d lost his family, angry that nobody seemed to care about him, angry about everything, but this was different, deeper. But it worked. And so, he let it stay.
Temperamental. Difficult.
The words hit deeper than they should when Allura looks at him, the look in her eyes saying, Ah, yes! This is exactly what you are! Even if she was right, it echoed every reason people had in the past to leave him alone or send him away. Echoed in the nine year old boy, sitting in the living room, overhearing the first foster mother he’d ever felt safe enough with to hug tell the social worker, I’m sorry, I really thought we’d be able to make it work, but two fights in a month? I can’t have my kids around him.
It stays with him as he moves throughout the castleship, wandering and memorizing every twist and turn. He’s never been able to sleep well in a new place, so he’s never really slept well at all. The castle is interesting enough that he doesn’t mind, the blue lights covering the walls in a glow that somehow doesn’t hurt his eyes, the never ending array of rooms with endless purposes.
At one point, he stumbles upon a room full of portraits. As he walks along each wall, he realizes that they’re all of Altean royalty. It’s an odd feeling, realizing a second later just how old these paintings are. These people were long dead even before the destruction of Altea. He’s looking at a portrait of a man with deep green markings and a bright smile when he hears a whimper from behind him.
In the darkness, it takes a second for him to locate the source. It’s Allura, curled in the corner of the room, staring at a portrait of a man who looks too similar to her to be anyone but her father. Keith feels tempted to run, not fully comfortable with his own emotions, much less anyone else’s, but he knows what it’s like to be alone. Allura seems like someone who’s a bit new to it. He walks over, making sure to make his footsteps loud enough that she can hear him approaching.
“Princess?” At the sound of his voice, she lifts her head from where it’s covered by her hair and hands. “Are…” He stops himself before he asks if she’s alright. He might be used to being alone, but not enough to be completely socially inept. “Do you want company?”
She hesitates, then nods. Keith sits on the wall next to her and looks at the painting she’s focussed on. It’s her father, King Alfor, according to the plaque underneath it.
“It feels like I saw him only a few short hours ago,” Allura rasps. “And yet he’s been dead for longer than I can comprehend. Everyone I know is gone. My mother, my friends, my…” Keith winces as she chokes on a sob.
“Your…” He prompts after a few moments of silence.
Allura smiles wryly. “My lover. No one knew about her, which is why I didn’t say anything in front of Coran. I checked the database of the castle. She died shortly after Zarkon destroyed Altea. He used her and her unit to begin the gladiator ring fights.”
“Why did no one know about her? Is homophobia real on alien planets?”
“What?” Allura says, eyebrows creased. “Ah one second, the translator just explained that, as there was no equivalent in Altean. No, Alteans marry –married whomever they liked in terms of gender. Are Earthlings unable to?”
Keith scoffs. “Long story. Best answer I can give is kind of .”
“That is quite an odd answer. Regardless, it was not because of our gender. It’s because she was my guard. It would have been a scandal.” With a whimsical smile, Allura leans her head back against the wall. “I didn’t mind, but she insisted on preserving my honor.”
“What was her name?”
“Kallan.”
Keith nods. “I’m sorry.”
Allura hums in acknowledgement. “She was the first person I thought of when Zarkon attacked. She was the person I wanted to see when I woke up.”
“And instead you saw Lance.”
Allura giggles at that. “He was much more flirtatious than she would’ve been. It was very amusing. If I had to fall into any of your arms, I’m glad it was the arms of someone who could make me laugh.” She pauses. “Please refrain from telling him I said that. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. He seems like a lovely person, just not someone I could ever love.”
Keith bristles suddenly, immediate instinct being to defend Lance, Lance , and he is so startled by this instinct that he doesn’t say anything. It’s the lion bond. The lion bond is to blame for why he feels the need to defend the honor of the boy who has done nothing but harass Keith since they first met.
“Oh yeah?” He says in a voice that is perfectly contained, in his opinion.
“Not in a negative way! It is just that he is a male.”
Everything clicks in Keith’s brain and he makes a small ohhhh sound and Allura laughs , and for the first time it is bright and genuine and she smiles at Keith like he did something miraculous. Her smile makes him feel like he did. She turns to look at him, eyes so suddenly earnest he almost flinches away from her gaze.
“Thank you, Keith. I have felt little but crippling loneliness since I was awoken, and you have made me feel like maybe I can find something in resemblance to a family again.” She laughs again as she turns back to the portraits, and this time it is slightly bitter, and Keith aches. “Is that silly? We’ve only been conversing for a short time, it’s been less than a week since I met you, and yet I still find myself hoping.”
Keith hesitantly puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to convey just how much he understands, how much he desperately wants to not feel alone and how much he’s come to care for these people in such a short time and how frightening it all is, to want so badly and to have been hurt before and to receive some semblance of hope in the place he least expected it. “It’s not. I hope so, too.”
He intends for it to be in reference to hoping for her to be happy once more, then realizes that there is an underlying hope for him to be able to do the same.
Hope, he discovers, is the most terrifying thing of all.
Keith is a fighter. He hasn’t always been, but he has been for long enough that it feels like forever, like it’s his destiny to go down swinging. When a kid in school tried to take his lunch money, his first instinct was to make a fist and his second was to put it through the kid’s face. All it took was the raising of his hand, and the kid paled and ran. In a way, it was satisfying. In a way, it was disappointing, that he had to lower his fist. He had to lower it, but he didn’t have to uncurl it. So, he was a fighter with his fists as his weapons, and they were always at the ready.
Now, he is a soldier. A chosen one, a soldier, and a boy.
(is there really any difference? for him, at least. the rest of them are boys, but they are also soldiers. keith feels as though the two have been intertwined since the first time his nails dug into his palms and revealed blood when he cried alone under his blankets. he feels like the instinct to lower his chin is as ingrained in him as his boyhood; that the two are one and the same.)
So when he is faced with Zarkon, an enemy that has somehow lived for thousands of years, that seems to be as confident standing in front of the Red Lion with only something that looks like a bayard at his side as he would be in a battle cruiser, his first instinct is to fight.
(that’s shiro’s bayard, he realizes. the weapon that should be shiro’s that was lost and has forced his brother to fight with the weaponized hand that was forced upon him, the hand that lance hesitated to take, the hand that keith could feel the chill of through his shirt as shiro clung to him, shaking like a leaf as he whispered, you found me, i’m home. )
Keith’s instinct to fight flares in his chest and when he feels Red trying to warn him to take caution, he lets Red in, lets them feel what he does, that protective rage. Red pauses, then that instinct is reflected tenfold, with Red sending images of the other Paladins, in trouble. In pain.
Keith will fight, and Keith will protect them. Lance might hate him and Pidge might poke fun and Hunk might flinch away, but the bond they have is worth defending, and so are they, even if they shut him out. He is Voltron’s right hand, and he will fight for his family.
(his family .)
He charges.
Keith is separated from his family, again. Shiro is so close, but not close enough, and he is hurt and in danger and Keith has to protect him. The others… he doesn’t know where they are and he can’t protect them if he doesn’t know, so he grits his teeth, pushes down his desire to scream, and finds his brother. Again.
Maybe he should take how difficult it is to hold onto the people he loves as a sign, but he can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t . It’s the one selfish thing he will allow himself. He will keep them safe. They’ll allow him to be happy, happy with them, and he’ll make sure that nothing will ever hurt them again.
He finds Shiro, and Shiro tells him he wants Keith to be the leader of Voltron if anything goes wrong. Keith’s heart aches and he wants to yell, to scream that his need to protect the team isn’t selfless, it’s the opposite, that he needs them, because they make him feel human, because they make him feel needed and wanted and he can’t lose that. He can protect them but he can’t lead them, and there is a difference. He knows there is.
But Shiro doesn’t need to know, doesn't need to understand the selfish rage in Keith’s heart. He’s too good for that. Keith digs his nails into his palms and stays silent.
Keith can’t sleep again, despite the fact that they just returned from a major battle and despite the fact that they’re on the run from Zarkon and that he should be resting in order to be able to fight properly when Zarkon inevitably catches up to them.
“Rest can be anything. It doesn’t have to be sleep,” he mutters as he tries to think about which room in the castle would be best for a break. He remembers Allura saying something about the health benefits of Altean pools and rifles around in his drawer for the swim trunks he laughed at a few days ago. With a sigh, he sets off for the elevator, towel around his neck.
The floor is cold against his bare feet and the combined chill of that and the air around him on his mostly bare skin is the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor. With a quick grab, he catches the elevator door just as it is about to close, and when he sees who’s on the other side, he barely holds back a groan.
Of course it’s Lance.
After almost an hour of much more struggle than he was prepared for, they reach the pool. And, of course, it’s upside down.
With a sound of frustration, Lance throws his towel to the ground. “Stupid Altean pools! I haven’t gone swimming since we left Earth!” He seems genuinely upset by this fact and Keith feels a second of sympathy as he looks over at his teammate, then stops dead in his tracks when he sees the crescent shaped scars on Lance’s chest. His mouth falls open and after a moment of his shocked silence, Lance glances over at him and narrows his eyes. “ Please tell me you’re just a regular asshole and not that kind of asshole, I will literally quit right now if I have to—”
Keith lets his towel fall off of his shoulders and reveals the similar scars on his own chest. Lance cuts off his sentence and points at them. “You.”
Keith nods frantically, excitement fueling his body with more energy than he’s felt in days. Lance seems to be feeling the same as Keith watches his eyes light up. “That makes four of us, holy fucking christ —”
“Wait, you know about Shiro?”
Lance’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his skull. “ Shiro?! No! I meant Hunk! What do you mean do I know about Shiro?”
“All of us,” Keith gasps. “All of us.”
Lance starts bouncing on the balls of his feet and Keith feels so close to doing the same. “No fucking way. The heroes who are going to save the universe are all trans. No fucking way.”
“Allura, too,” Keith inputs and he’s never seen Lance this happy. “You know how Alteans can shapeshift? Turns out almost none of them identified as their assigned gender at birth. Not being trans was rare.”
“No fucking way —”
Of course, that’s when the castle shakes violently and the pool water magically drops from the ceiling and sucks them back up before unceremoniously letting them fall on their asses. Of course it is.
The blade he carries has been with him for years, with no meaning.
The blade he carries has been with him for years, and now it means everything .
Allura won’t look at him. She hasn’t for days now, and the only time she speaks to him is when forced. He can’t help but remember feeling like a miracle after seeing her smile, and now her glare tears him apart like knives. It seems like he’s always flinching away from the honesty in her gaze.
His need to escape is all the more present now. He just never thought he’d be escaping from Allura’s rage.
The observation deck is beautiful when it’s empty. He started out curled in his chair, and is now curled on the floor as close to the main window as possible. The stars aren’t familiar anymore. He gave up on trying to memorize them a while ago. They aren’t familiar, but they are comforting. If he doesn’t think hard enough, he can pretend they’re the same constellations he can see from Earth.
Earth wasn’t his home, but at least he wasn’t a Galra there. At least he didn’t feel guilty for being a part of the race that destroyed galaxies and more importantly, Allura’s home, her family, her everything .
“Keith?” At the sound of his name, he looks up to see that Pidge has entered the deck. He tries to smile, but Pidge’s glare tells him his efforts are in vain.
“You can sit with me, if you want,” Keith rasps instead. Pidge takes him up on his offer, but instead of sitting a good distance away from him, they sit right next to him and link their arms before Keith can back away. “Pidge?”
“I know you’re a runner,” he says in response, leaning their head on Keith’s shoulder. “Now shut up. I haven’t cuddled with a brother in too long.”
Everything about Keith stops at that. He’s felt for so long that the Paladins are his family, he didn’t even pause to think that they might think the same of him. Or, he had, but it was only for a second, and it definitely wasn’t an affirmation. A crushing feeling of unworthiness settles over him, one that existed even before he knew what that blade meant, and he can’t help but tear up. Before he knows it, those tears are dripping down his face and he takes in a shaky breath. Pidge only grips his arm tighter, curling his entire body closer to Keith.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“If I hadn’t been so desperate to know, she never would’ve—”
“It’s not your fault . You deserved to know, Keith. You deserve to know where you came from. She’s being unreasonable, but she’s just a kid.” Pidge pauses, and Keith thinks that when their grip on Keith’s arm tightens this time, it’s more for them than for him. “We all are. She’s a kid that never got to grieve her people the way she should’ve been able to. She needs time.”
“I know. It’s just… for now, it sucks.”
Pidge nods. “I know. But it’s not your fault. And if she ever talks to you like that again, I’ll say something, I promise.”
There’s another promise, hidden beneath that. He might as well be saying I’ll protect you, I promise , and that makes the tears flow faster. For as much as he wants to protect them, they feel the same. He doesn’t have to shoulder this alone.
He turns his face into the mess that is Pidge’s hair, and he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t , but Pidge’s other arm comes around him and their tiny fingers comb through his hair as he clings to him just as tightly, and he cuddles with the first person to call him their big brother. Shiro calls him his brother, but this feels deeper. This hits some place deep in his chest. He’s Shiro’s little brother, and Pidge’s big brother. It’s the most important thing in the universe.
His brother is gone. Shiro is gone, again. He hasn’t felt so numb in so long, and now it’s all he feels.
The rest of the Paladins cried when they realized Shiro was gone.
Keith? Keith ran. He ran for his lion and was barely stopped by Allura grabbing his arm and pulling him back, saying, “Keith, no, the Galra are still in that area, you can’t ,” with tears in her eyes and fear in her voice. Keith stayed and he walked Pidge to his room and patted Hunk on the back, and when Lance put a hand on his shoulder, he put his own hand over his, squeezed, and tried his best to smile. Lance’s headshake let him know it wasn’t convincing.
Now, he stands in the Black Lion’s hanger and stares at the limp lion, eyes dark and cold. “Why didn’t you protect him?” Keith whispers. “He would’ve done anything for you. Why did you let them take him?”
With that display of vulnerability, he collapses on the floor and puts his head between his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath and keep from crying. He can’t give up, he can’t stop because if he stops, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get up again. His heart hurts so badly now, he doesn’t know if he can handle that rage that saved him in the desert.
He doesn’t notice the other person in the room until Lance sits on the floor next to him. “Hey, man,” Lance says, softly. “You okay?”
Keith tries not to scoff. “As okay as I can be.”
Lance winces. “Right. Sorry. I just meant, can I help?”
Keith shakes his head. “Unless you want to admit to putting a tracking chip in Shiro, I don’t think you can.” Lance laughs at this, but Keith can tell it’s tainted with pain, the same way Keith’s sarcasm is.
“Having to deal with this… it’s too much. I’ve never felt so numb. I think it’s partially because of that thing with the quintessence, but this sure didn’t help.”
“Tell me about it.”
Lance leans back on his hands. “Speaking of, Coran wants to check you out in the infirmary.”
“So that’s why you’re here.”
“It was either him or me, dude. The difference being that if you don’t want to go down there, I won’t make you. I will, however, insist that you tell me the truth when I ask about your physical well being.”
Keith waves a hand. “Ask away.”
“Are you physically alright?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying?”
Keith pauses, then sighs and relents when he sees the genuine worry in Lance’s eyes. “My ribs hurt and I hit my ankle the wrong way on something in the explosion, but other than that I’m fine.”
Lance makes a gesture. “I’ll decide that. Let me see ‘em.”
Keith rolls his eyes as he pulls up his pant leg and shows the mild bruising on his ankle. He shivers when Lance presses his hand to the area, feeling for breaks. “Unless there’s a fracture I can’t feel, it should be fine,” he murmurs, then points at Keith’s shirt. Keith hesitates before pulling up the right side. Lance sucks in a breath when he sees it and Keith looks down to see that the bruising is much worse than when he last checked. “Dude. That doesn’t look good.”
“It’s fine.”
Lance pokes him in the side and tears immediately spring to his eyes. Lance does look regretful for doing it, which counts for little, since he presses his hand against the area, feeling for breaks this time. This hurts in a different way, as Keith’s cheeks are now heating to an unhealthy level. “I think it’s okay, but definitely get a cold pack for it.”
“And risk Coran’s worry?”
“You should feel lucky that I’m not dragging your dumb ass to a healing pod,” Lance mutters, but when Keith protests, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll grab one for you and say I have a headache.”
It’s only after Lance leaves to do what he promised that Keith thinks a little deeper about this encounter, about how it felt to have Lance’s hand on his body and to have him worrying over Keith’s wellbeing. He turns what he assumes to be a bright red when he realizes how nice it was, then flops back on the floor with a groan.
“If Shiro were here, I’d never hear the end of this,” he mutters to the Black Lion. He thinks about the truth of that statement, and he imagines Shiro teasing him over a crush. The numbness he’s felt since the battle floods out of him all at once and the force of a sob leaves him gasping for breath, both from the emotion behind it and the pain in his ribs.
He cries until Lance returns. Lance sits beside him and lets him lean on him while holding the cold pack to Keith’s side and not saying a word about the tear marks down Keith’s cheeks. Keith has never felt so alone, yet so cared for. It only makes the tears flow faster.
Keith thinks he sees Lance’s hand make a fist.
Keith goes to the training room often.
It used to be voluntary, something he did once a day in order to give him a sense of routine. Now, its still everyday, but its pushing himself until his muscles ache and his bones are brittle and his eyes burn with hastily wiped away tears. Now, its bouncing his foot under the table during diplomatic meetings when they speak of Voltron or the Black Lion, channeling his urge to treat those who do like the Gladiator. Now, it's coping. Or, it’s close enough. Or, it’s anger. Too much anger.
So, Keith goes to the training room often. Sometimes he walks in on Allura, sometimes on Hunk, sometimes on Pidge. Allura, practicing routines with her staff so she doesn’t forget the Altean technique. Hunk, learning to use his size in his favor and trying his hardest to surround his soft edges with armor. Pidge once admitted to Keith through barely restrained tears that he was tired of being protected, that he was one of the only other short range fighters and that he was tired of Keith being the only capable one.
He’s never walked in on Lance. Until today, that is.
He expected it to be target practice, given Lance’s recent insistence that he’s the team’s sharpshooter. Instead, it’s a fight against the Gladiator. Keith watches through the cracked door, trying not to interrupt. Lance seems to be holding his own and Keith takes a moment to be impressed, recognizing the difficulty level to be somewhere in the upper twenties from the ducks and rolls of the robot.
Then, Lance misses a shot. Just barely, but it’s obvious that Lance was relying on that shot to hit and delay the machine. Instead, the robot swings its staff and knocks Lance off his feet. Keith holds in a gasp, but he allows himself to wince. His sympathy is interrupted by what happens next. Where Keith would’ve given up and restarted in a mild rage, Lance immediately rolls before the robot can raise its staff and uses his blaster to knock the robot off balance before using his own legs to knock the robot’s out from under it in a stunning display of agility and balance. This time, Keith can’t hold back his gasp and Lance whips around.
The anger in his eyes is something Keith recognizes, and he realizes why Lance is here. Whereas Pidge wanted to protect themself, Lance is already capable of that. The anger in his eyes is a helpless one, one that’s tired of watching the people he loves hurt. Keith swallows slowly and nods, and hopes Lance senses that his pain is mirrored in the boy across the room, because they’re both just boys, children , that have had their life stolen from them by a war they were never meant to see, much less fight in.
Keith raises a hand to his heart and presses, just for a moment, and he sees understanding cross Lance’s face, and then he leaves before either of them can say something. He doesn’t know exactly why, but he knows he has to, because seeing his kind of anger in someone like Lance , someone he relies on for a distraction or reassurance when times are hard, it twists something deep inside his chest. Lance is too… good to feel the anger of someone like Keith. He doesn’t deserve that burden.
Keith’s hands ache with the urge to punch something and before he can think about the consequences, his fist slams into the wall. Pain immediately erupts and he lets out a strangled cry before sinking to the floor, hand cradled to his chest and tears falling down his cheeks despite his efforts to hold them back. His head is a mess , scrambled with anger and grief and sadness and worst of all, relief, because he’s not alone.
Lance understands . Lance understands why Keith disappears for hours on end when the responsibility becomes too much, when protecting the team and the universe tears him apart. It’s different from knowing that Lance is his right hand man now, it’s understanding why Red chose him to replace Keith.
Allura described the Red Paladin as temperamental, as difficult, but it’s more than a temper or spite, it’s understanding true rage. Keith has for a very long time, in fact, it's what keeps him going most of the time, and his understanding is why this is tearing him up inside. The rage that keeps him going isn’t a good thing, he knows this. It sits in his heart and it eats away at him, day after day until days turn into weeks and weeks into years. But he’s still alive because of it. He can’t let go because if he lets go, what else will keep him functional? So he clings to it and, he thinks, makes it into something good. If he suffers from the burden of this rage, that’s okay, as long as he uses it to stay alive so he can protect the team, so he can save the universe.
(so he can find his brother. again)
Lance doesn’t deserve to feel this rage, this rage that causes such pain. He deserves better .
Keith buries his head in his arms and lets himself cry.
Shiro is back, but he’s not the same. He’s cold and he’s distant and he orders Keith around like he’s a child. Keith watches as the others begin to look to Shiro rather than him when the time comes where a plan is needed, and he runs for his room and takes his knife and begs Kolivan to let him train with the Blades.
The Blades are exactly what he needs. They don’t coddle him or treat him like he’s special. The second he’s in his suit, he’s one of them, and they don’t care that he’s a Paladin. They kick his ass in training and expect him to get up on his own and they take him on missions and they don’t go back to save him and they don’t thank him when he goes back to save them, even when he shouldn’t. Even when they don’t go back for him.
He’s late to missions and he can see Lance’s eyes tracking him and can feel his concern from across the room, but it’s better than realizing he got his older brother back just for him to make him feel worse than he did while he was gone. He feels so insignificant, so useless, he wants to leave with the Blades permanently. But he can’t. Because no matter how much Shiro undermines him, there’s one thing Keith can do that he can’t: piloting the Black Lion.
It really sucks that this is the only thing he can do, when the Black Paladin is supposed to be the leader of Voltron, he muses as he walks through the halls of the castle. It’s late and he’s just returned from a mission that was a little too much of a close call, so it’s more limping than it is walking. Thank fuck everyone seems to be asleep.
“Keith? Dude, is that you?”
Well, everyone but Hunk, apparently.
Keith turns around to see him peering out of the kitchen. “Yeah, it is.”
Hunk beams. “Good! Finally! We were worried. We were going to stay up and wait for you, but we had to help with a rebel thing and after, everyone was super tired, but I had to finish your cookies. I just took them out of the oven, actually, if you want some! They’re chocolate chip! Or,” he pauses, “An alien equivalent. They seem chocolatey enough.”
Keith can’t help but smile. “Sure, Hunk. That would be great.”
He takes a single step and Hunk’s expression immediately turns sour. “Who do I need to kill?”
“What?”
“Your leg.”
“Oh,” Keith says, remembering the bandage that runs up and down his thigh. “Don’t worry about it. Already taken care of.” Hunk wrinkles his face, then walks over to Keith and puts an arm around his waist. Keith sighs. “Hunk, I’m a big boy, I can walk on my own.”
“I’m literally the leg of Voltron, let me help.”
Keith relents, and if anyone ever asks, he’ll blame exhaustion and not wanting to see Hunk upset. He puts an arm over Hunk’s shoulders and together, they hobble into the kitchen. Keith draws the line at Hunk helping him into a chair, so Hunk rolls his eyes and grabs a plate and a cookie for Keith instead.
“So, how’d that happen?”
Keith shrugs. “Let myself get captured for a little bit as a distraction. Turns out, the Galra hate human cuss words.” Hunk looks suddenly concerned. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t too bad. It was just until the rest of the Blades were able to set off the bombs. I got out, they patched me up, and now I’m here.”
“And what’s the count of severe injuries you’ve gotten with them up to now? Do they even have healing pods?”
“They do, they just save them for actual severe injuries.” Keith sighs at Hunk’s protests. “Hunk, I’m fine, and if I wasn’t, they would’ve put me in a pod. You don’t have to worry about me.” Hunk’s protests die off, but his expression gives away how upset he still is. Hunk’s never been able to fully hide the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve, despite how much Keith knows he’s tried. “If you have something to say, you can say it,” Keith says, voice as soft as possible.
“Why do you keep going back? You’re doing enough good with us, where you’re safe, why do you need to do this, too?”
“None of us are safe anywhere , Hunk. I’m going where I’m needed.”
“They don’t need you, though. If you stayed with us, they would have someone to take your place.”
If I’m counting right, that’s one Paladin too many. “That’s the same here,” Keith replies, and he can’t hide the bitterness in his voice.
Hunk suddenly looks like he understands, and Keith almost flinches away from his knowing gaze. “So this is about Shiro taking over.”
“... not just that,” Keith tries, to no avail.
“Keith, you’re still the Black Paladin. If you aren’t comfortable with Shiro talking over you, tell him that. You don’t need to run.”
“He deserves it, though.” Keith sighs. “He’s been through so much. He’s had so much taken from him. He deserves to have this. I can’t be responsible for taking something else away from him.”
“You deserve it too,” Hunk says gently. “We all watched you work to be a better leader for us. You could’ve just kept doing what you were, but you saw it was putting us in danger and you changed so we would be safe. That’s exactly what a leader does. I for one thought you did a damn good job. You made decisions Shiro wouldn’t have made, but most of the time, they were good decisions. We got things done, we saved lives. You did that.”
Keith looks down at his cookie to hide the tears that spring to his eyes. “Hunk…”
“At least think about it. We miss you, dude.”
Keith nods. “I will.” After a pause, he says, “Thank you, Hunk. I mean that.”
Hunk beams and the force and brightness of his smile makes any pain Keith feels in his leg or anywhere else seem like nothing. If someone like Hunk believes in him, maybe things will be alright.
Keith finds Shiro in the lounge, surprisingly. He didn’t know Shiro knew how to rest. He says as such when he enters, smiling to make sure Shiro knows it's a joke. Shiro scoffs anyway and Keith immediately feels guilty.
“So, why are you looking for me?” Shiro asks as Keith sits down across from him.
Keith hesitates, but takes a breath and pushes forward. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Shiro gestures. “Go ahead then. I’m listening.”
Keith’s heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t feel this nervous, why does he feel this nervous, this is Shiro! His brother!
“Keith?”
“When you were gone, it was really hard,” Keith starts. “I wanted to respect your wishes, but I didn’t know how to be the leader you were. I didn’t know how to keep them safe like you did and I didn’t want to fail, so I tried everything but listening to what you told me. Then, I realized I was trying to figure out how to be you and me at the same time, and that wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted me to be the leader, yeah, but you wanted me to lead as myself , not as you. It took a lot. I failed more times than I’d like to admit, but I grew into it. I learned.”
“And I’m proud of you, Keith.”
Keith smiles. “I know. It’s just that now…”
“Now what? Now I’m back?”
“Yes,” Keith says, turning to bluntness. “And I’m so happy, I am. I missed you so much. But I’ve been trying to pretend things can go back to the way they were and they can’t. You’re not the only leader anymore, and I’m not who I was when you left. None of us are. We all had to change to live without you.”
“Are you trying to kick me out?” Shiro says this like it’s a joke, but the look in his eyes sends chills down Keith’s spine. Why is he so scared? This is his brother .
“Of course not, I just wanted to ask you if you’d be okay with, I don’t know, sharing a little bit more? I want to help and you deserve to rest, Shiro, and—”
“Keith, it sounds like you’re being a bit selfish.” This, this takes Keith’s worst fears and materializes them, this is what heartbreak feels like. “You did well while I was gone, but Black chose me to lead when all of this started. She probably only chose you because she knew I wanted her to.” Shiro shrugs, like he didn’t just take all of Keith’s confidence and break it down, bit by bit. “I’m not sure why she’s not letting me fly her right now, but I’m sure it’s temporary. And what then? Are you going to take Red back from Lance? Are you going to make Allura stop being a Paladin?”
Keith can’t stop shaking. His head feels like it was just dunked in ice water and his heart feels like Shiro just grabbed it with his Galra hand and twisted . Why is he saying all of this? He knows it’s true, but he never thought Shiro would say it. He never thought anyone would say it out loud. Lance’s words echo in his mind again. Maybe it would be best for the team if I stepped aside. He told Lance to leave the math to Pidge, but he can’t help but think that maybe he had a point, just not one with the outcome he expected.
“We all have to go where we can do the most good,” Shiro continues. “We all have a part to play. This mission is bigger than any one of us.”
“I—” Keith stops himself and lets his head hang. “I guess you’re right.”
“What got through to you?” Shiro smiles, and something feels wrong about it. “Was it the possibility of taking something from Lance? I had a feeling about you two, by the way. Anything ever happen there?”
(keith remembers sobbing on lance’s shoulder after thinking about shiro teasing him about his crush, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this . he never imagined that it would hurt like this.)
“Of course not,” Keith rasps. He thinks about Lance’s smile, about his laugh, about the pride in his eyes when he whispered through his pain that he and Keith were a good team, the concern when his hand gently cradled Keith’s ribs, when he stood by Keith’s side and had his back, the sadness when he told Keith he would step aside for him and for Allura, that he would give up something that means everything to him to make sure they would be happy. His heart twists, he looks at Shiro and sees how absolutely oblivious he is to Keith’s distress, and he runs.
Lance corners him as he tries to leave, because of course he does. Keith turns to face him with a sigh, trying to harden his will so the eyes Lance gave him before don’t break him. It works, barely, because Lance just looks angry.
“What,” he gasps, and Keith realizes he ran to meet him, “the actual hell, Keith.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You should be!” Keith startles at his snap and Lance shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t— you’re really leaving? That wasn’t some sick joke?”
“Why would I joke about that?”
“Because you have a horrible sense of humor and enjoy my pain, I don’t know!” Lance runs a hand through his hair and Keith resists the urge to reach out and fix it. “I just thought we had something here, man! I thought we built something, you and I! I’m your right hand man, not Shiro’s, as much as I love the guy. He doesn’t need me.”
“And I did?”
“ Yes . And I need you.” Keith flinches at that. He thought Lance would be happy about this! He’s going to have a fully capable leader, he’s getting to stay with Red, and Allura is getting to stay with Blue. It’s a perfect scenario. “Keith, don’t leave. Please.”
“And if I stay, what will I be doing? Sitting around with Coran, listening to the same five stories? Watching you all put yourselves in danger?”
“We could both fly Red,” Lance offers. “They wouldn’t mind.”
“ I would.” When Lance frowns, Keith takes a deep breath. “Lance, you deserve to be the Red Paladin. They chose you.”
“They chose you first.”
“And I’m not letting them make that mistake again.” Lance starts to protest, almost violently, but Keith barrels on, too fragile to not be reckless. “Lance, I have to go. You said it yourself, there’s one Paladin too many, and I don’t see anyone else here who can join the Blades.”
“I was talking about myself!”
“And you were wrong! You're not the one out of place here, Lance, I am!” He’s yelling now. He doesn’t want to yell at Lance. He takes a breath. “After all of the danger I put you all in, I don’t deserve to be here.”
“That’s not for you to decide!”
“Then who! Who gets to decide where I go if I don’t!”
“Your family,” Lance snaps. “ Us . We get to decide who we want as our leader, and you’re taking that choice from us.”
“They’d choose Shiro anyways.”
“ I wouldn’t . I’d choose you. I’d choose to follow you .”
The words tear apart what’s left of Keith’s willpower and he pulls Lance in by his armor and buries his face in the crook of his neck, hiding in the blue and white plates and clinging to him like a lifeline. This, this is exactly why he has to leave. He can’t let them keep thinking he isn’t selfish, that they aren’t better off without him. Even when he’s trying to leave, to make things better, he can’t help but indulge his selfish impulse to cling to this feeling of family, of being wanted.
“I really wish I could stay. I—I want to,” Keith whispers. Lance’s arms come around him and grip him just as tightly. Keith’s chest hurts for more than one reason, now. “But I can’t.”
He can’t look at Lance as he breaks away and leaves. When he reaches the elevator, he pauses and almost looks back, but he digs his nails into his palm and forces himself inside. As the doors close, his knees suddenly go weak and he feels the wall against his back before he realizes he’s falling. The shock of the metal forces his eyes open and he catches a glimpse of Lance reaching out.
The doors close with a slow finality and he can’t stop himself from sliding against the wall and to the floor. He hides his face in his arms and his nails dig into his palms. The tears don’t fall, but the blood hits the floor in the same rhythm.
Keith can’t make himself get out of the fighter.
He’s been in the main hangar of the Castle for… what feels like both too long and not long enough. Other ships have landed and other rebels have left those ships, some stopping to give the fighter he almost died in (he almost died ) a wary glance.
He almost died. He almost died. And it would’ve been because of his own choice.
He buries his face in his hands, practically tearing his fingers through his tangled hair. He almost died. He’s only alive because of Lotor. If Lotor hadn’t destroyed the shield, he would’ve died. He almost died .
He didn’t think he’d be this scared of dying. He’s come close to it before, and each time he was scared and angry. Now, he’s just scared and sad. Sad, because he would’ve been sacrificing himself for the Paladins, and wouldn’t have regretted it but would’ve regretted never being able to see them again, but he can’t even see them now because he can’t bring himself to look them in the eyes after leaving.
It was the right choice. He knows that. But that doesn’t mean it was easy.
He sees all of them looking at him when he stands at Kolivan’s side during video meetings, each one of them expressing some sort of concern or simply searching every visible part of him to check for injuries. The one time he’d joined a video call with a burn down the side of his forehead, Allura tore Kolivan a new one with no hesitation, and Keith walked away when he saw Lance looking at him, nodding along to Allura’s every word. When Kolivan later tried to suggest Keith visit them, Keith thought of facing Lance after admitting how much he didn’t want to leave and adamantly refused.
Now, he wishes he had visited at least once, so that the first time he returned as a guest and not a Paladin wasn’t immediately after intentionally flying straight towards a particle barrier, immediately after attempting to sacrifice himself.
(he almost died.)
He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice there’s someone in the fighter with him until a hand touches his shoulder. He instinctively grabs it and twists, but lets go as soon as he sees that it’s Pidge’s brother.
Matt wrinkles his nose the same way Pidge does when they’re concerned. “Keith, dude, waitshitthisisareallyinappropriatetimetocallsomeonedude.” The corner of Keith’s mouth twitches into a sort of smile as he’s reminded once again of Matt’s sibling. Matt seems to find a sense of composure after his momentary panic. “Anyways, I’m here to check on you. The other Paladins want to see you.”
“The Paladins,” Keith corrects, leaning back against the chair.
“What?”
“You said the other Paladins. I’m not a Paladin anymore.”
Matt sighs. “Man, you really need a hug.”
“I really don’t. And I don’t want to go in. I’ll leave with the Blades when the rest of them arrive.”
Another sigh. “Keith, I think you’re a cool dude, but I’m a big brother first. Pidge is going to cry if I don’t bring you back with me, and since Lance and Hunk are their best friends, I’m protective of them too, and I think they’ll cry with him. Plus, it might impress Allura and my unit bet me a space mall trip that I wouldn’t be able to impress her at least once during this visit. Help me out.”
Keith isn’t stupid. He can tell that Matt is trying to annoy him into saying yes, but the more Matt talks about the Paladins, the more he wants to melt into the seat out of guilt.
Matt sighs, as if he understands the inner turmoil Keith is going through. "Look, what I mean to say is that everyone would appreciate it if you’d come inside. You’ve been through a lot and there’s a couple of rebel doctors who can look you over if needed and alcohol to drink if not.”
“I'm pretty sure that alcohol is for disinfecting wounds," Keith says, remembering rebel protocol from their previous missions with the Blade.
Matt winks. “Not all of it.” He ignores the look on Keith's face offers him a hand. “Come on. If you don’t want to talk to the Paladins, you don’t have to. In fact, I’ll stand in front of you and act like your bodyguard.”
Keith hesitates, but then he remembers that this is Pidge's big brother. Pidge placed him on Matt's level and said he doesn't want to lose him the way he lost Matt. He thinks about Pidge's eyes tearing up if Matt returns without him. He takes Matt's hand.
He regrets following Matt less than five minutes later, when Lance punches him across the face the second Keith enters the lounge.
Thankfully, the only people in there are the inhabitants of the Castle of Lions, but Keith is still full of an insane amount of regrets. He vaguely sees Matt trying to step between them, but it’s as if it’s through water. All he can see clearly is the brown of Lance’s eyes and the tears that cloud them.
“It’s alright,” he says, more quietly than he intends. He says it again, louder this time. Matt looks at him, confused, but he stops trying to pull Lance away from him. This time, when Lance touches him, it’s hands, checking him over for injuries. “I’m okay, Lance,” Keith says, just for him to hear. Lance makes a noise of protest, then his hands reach Keith’s face and Keith feels himself turn red as his head is gently tilted left and right.
“I’m sorry I punched you,” Lance mutters, not sounding very sorry at all.
“I deserved it,” Keith responds.
“Only a little.” His hands stay on Keith’s face, even after he seems satisfied with Keith’s physical health. “I— We missed you.”
Lance’s face this close, his voice this quiet and this worried and absolutely thick with an emotion Keith is too scared to name, it’s too much. Keith uses the fabric of the Paladin armor under suit to pull Lance in and hide his face in the crook Lance's neck. After a second of surprise, Lance wraps his arms around Keith and the fingers of one hand dig into the back of Keith’s neck, the other wraps around Keith’s waist and crushes every inch of Keith’s upper body against him.
For a second, they’re still and quiet, and then he hears a sniffle and Allura’s arms wrap around them both. Keith thinks she shapeshifted to manage it. Next is Hunk, on their other side. Then, Pidge wiggles under Hunk’s arm and clings to Keith like a leech with their head on Keith’s arm. Keith opens his eyes, watches as Matt quietly leaves with a smile on his face, and sees Shiro, a bit further off, but closer than he was before, and he softens when Shiro smiles. Shiro mouths, I’m sorry. Keith mouths, Don’t be. Come here.
Shiro joins the hug, and it’s like puzzle pieces sliding into place. Keith’s knees start to wobble and he leans into Lance more than ever, until they give out. The sudden weight is too much for an unexpecting Lance, and their group hug collapses to the floor, still holding onto each other, laughing and crying and Keith has never felt so loved in his life. He left them, and he thought they would hate him for it, but here they are, holding onto him like he’s something they believe in, holding onto the family he thought he wasn’t good enough to be a part of. He can’t believe he almost lost this, permanently.
“I’m sorry,” he cries into Lance’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Allura is the one to respond. She brushes Keith’s hair out of his eyes and smiles through her own tears. “Keith, you have nothing to apologize for. You came back to us alive. That is enough.”
Later, after they’ve all cried their fair share of tears and pretended nothing was wrong during the briefing (keith noticed kolivan looking at all of their faces, seeing the tear streaks, then proceeding to ignore them in favor of sharing the number of lives lost from the blade. that man will never cease to amaze keith), Lance grabs Keith by the wrist and drags him to his room.
“Look,” Lance starts, turning to face Keith as the door closes. “We need to talk.”
Keith sighs. “I know. I’m—”
“I know what happened. Or, what almost happened.”
With a flinch, Keith breaks their eye contact in favor of staring at the floor.
“Do you want to know who I heard it from? I heard it from Lotor , because he taunted us about us owing him for saving your life, because you were going to fly straight into the damn particle barrier in a busted Galra fighter.” His grip on Keith’s wrist tightens, only enough to get Keith to look at him. “Keith…”
“There wasn’t enough time for a better plan,” Keith mutters. “We didn’t have the firepower to break through, and I thought the explosion could do it.”
“Could,” Lance repeats. “You weren’t even sure it would work, and you did it anyway.” His eyes are turning darker with each second and Keith wants to punch something so badly.
“I wanted to save you guys. I—I know you weren’t the only ones at risk, but all I could think about was that there was no way even Voltron could take that kind of explosion, and I wanted to make sure you got to go home.”
Lance pulls on his wrist. “Keith, I’m not asking you to justify it. I know it made sense to you when you made your choice, I just need you to understand why I’m upset, why we’re all upset.”
Keith nods for him to continue. Lance takes a step closer and tucks a loose piece of hair behind Keith’s ear. He shivers at the touch, and leans into the lingering brush of Lance’s hand against his cheek.
“You aren’t expendable. I don’t care if there’s six Paladins and five Lions, or if there’s a hundred Blades waiting to take your place, you aren’t expendable, and you aren’t replaceable. You’re Keith . You’re—” Lance pauses, then puts on a brave face and continues. “You’re my first choice. If that plan had worked, I—”
“I’m glad it didn’t,” Keith interrupts. “I…if I had to, I would make the same choice every time, but I’m glad it didn’t work.” A moment of silence passes. “I missed you,” Keith offers, quietly. He doesn’t correct himself to include the others, he just says what he means, because he did miss the others, still does, but Lance is different. The others understood and hugged him and let him go. Lance grabbed onto him and pleaded with him to stay. Keith wonders if there's still blood on the elevator floor. He doesn’t think that one is used very often.
Lance moves his hand from Keith’s wrist to intertwine their fingers, watching Keith’s face for a sign to stop the entire time. Keith doesn’t give him one, just squeezes his hand.
“I missed you, too,” Lance whispers, stepping closer. “You know, it was a real dick move to leave like that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
This time, Keith steps closer. He touches his hand to Lance’s cheek. “Hey,” he says. “You’re my first choice, too.”
“Then choose me, choose this, choose all of us,” Lance pleads. “Stay, Keith.”
Can he stay? Is it even within his nature to stay, and to try, and to let go of his anger, and to hold onto those he loves and let them hold him in return? Is he capable of what Lance is asking of him?
Keith’s only heirloom is a dagger, his most powerful instinct is to fight, and every bone in his body has been broken and healed into a shape best fit for running, for leaving before he can be left behind. He ran from the Garrison, from Voltron, from Lance . Lance, who believes in him, who said he’d choose him and follow him, who said Keith is his first choice. Keith has been angry for so much of his life. Looking into Lance’s eyes, he thinks he’s been angry for too much of his life.
“I’ll try,” Keith whispers. “I can’t make any promises, other than that I promise to try. Is that enough?”
Lance nods with no hesitation. “Yeah. Yeah, Keith, it’s enough.”
This time, Keith throws his arms around Lance’s neck instead of using him to hide. This time, he hugs him like he’ll be able to do it again. It’s… different. Messing up and coming back and still having his best friend.
His best friend, because that’s exactly what Lance is. His right hand man. His best friend.
When he holds Lance, his fingernails don’t dig in.