If you're lucky, you'll see a meteor and think it's beautiful.

It takes a week for the meals Hunk leaves by Lance's door to return with any visible sign of being touched. The trays are never empty, barely picked at, but it's better than nothing.

It takes two weeks for Lance to leave his room. No one ever sees him doing it; they just find it empty one day when Shiro's worry for Lance overrides his concern for privacy.

It's as messy as anyone's ever seen it.

That's not reassuring at all, since Lance's care for his appearance extends to his living quarters, but despite this, they all know he's still on board. After all, they're not docked anywhere at the moment and there's nowhere to go besides space. But, no one can deny that a rather worrisome thought has crossed their minds, so when Pidge sneakily installs a camera opposite Lance's door Shiro pretends not to notice. It pays off when Pidge's camera feed catches Lance leaving and entering his room at odd times. It's enough to give everyone a bit of room to breathe.

It takes three weeks until Allura accidentally stumbles over him in the planetarium. Lance is fast asleep, slumped against the controls. When she cautiously takes a closer look at his face, a heavy weight sinks into her chest.

He's pale, a sickly white that isn't much helped by the solar system's tiny planet projections flitting all over the place as they eerily glow. Dark shadows line his eyes and mouth, and even in his sleep, Lance is frowning, eyebrows drawn together as if in pain. A grove has appeared between them, a new addition, and one that looks like it's here to stay. Despite all of this, he's breathing deep and evenly, and Allura has to wonder if this is the first decent sleep he's gotten ever since -

She blinks, swallowing around the lump in her throat. Altean flowers and her father's face appear in her mind's eye. It's not the same, but she knows a thing or two about being in too much pain to sleep.

Allura decides not to wake him, instead disappearing quietly after settling a thin blanket over him.

Pidge catches the tail end of Lance's jacket disappearing through the closing doorway of his room hours later.

Four weeks after Lance's return, Shiro musters up enough courage to go to Keith's room. It's as sparse in decoration as he remembers, nothing apart from the provided furniture filling up space, and sheets tucked into the bed army style.

He wanders the room a bit aimlessly, letting his fingertips roam over the smooth surface of the small desk in the corner, a chair, the doors of Keith's closet. Only hesitating for a moment, he opens it, maybe hoping to find some sign that Keith existed once, in some place other than just precious memories.

He finds a pair of black jeans, a pair of red and white biker boots, a black t-shirt, a plain belt, and some fingerless black gloves. They're all neatly folded and stacked on top of one another except the boots that stand guard on the side. They gleam, as if they have only been set aside yesterday, ready to wear.

The jacket is missing.

The next day, Coran offers Shiro Keith's bayard, shiny and clean. Not a trace of dirt is left on it, leaving it looking good as new, and Shiro doesn't quite know whether to be glad or not. At least the stains would have served as a reminder of its previous owner and the life given in the name of protecting it.

"Technically, it's the princess's." Coran explains quietly, not voicing the silent as long as there's no Paladin to wield it. "But you're Voltron's current leader, and you were all close. Do with it what you will."

What he really means, and Shiro can feel the responsibility settle onto his shoulders like a heavy cloak, is that it's up to him to find a new Paladin to pilot the Red Lion. It's cruel but necessary and Shiro realises this is the Alteans' way of giving him, all of them, time to grieve. No new Paladin will be found until he, until the surviving members of Voltron, are ready.

Voltron is handicapped until they have someone to pilot Red, and it is a gesture of great proportions to leave the power to decide how long the universe will be left vulnerable, in the hands of humans.

Coran and Allura's generosity surprises Shiro but, in a way, he understands - all of Voltron's current Paladins are human, and they're allowed to cope with a loss of their own the only way they know how.

Shiro takes the offered bayard. His smile is brief and sad, but Coran takes it as the gratitude it is, and nods.

Shiro, Pidge and Hunk unanimously agree to leave the final decision up to Lance.

When Hunk puts down another meal at his door that night, Pidge and Shiro stand with him. Hunk and Pidge watch silently as Shiro places the Red Paladin's bayard on the tray next to the food. He almost doesn't let go, keeps his hold on it a few more moments, before he releases it, and stands. The atmosphere is heavy and sombre, but they can all feel that this is right – or perhaps, simply that Lance is the one who needs this the most.

When Hunk comes back to fetch the tray later, it's the first that returns completely empty.

– O –

Pain.

It's the only thing Keith is aware of, and it takes an immeasurable amount of time for him to become conscious enough of the fact that he can feel any pain at all, means he's still alive.

I'm alive.

It takes a lot of effort and even more energy to simply open his eyes, and once he's finally managed it, he doesn't even know if it's worth it; all he's achieved is make the throbbing in his head worse. Everything is blurry and he still can't see a thing.

Something moves at the corner of his vision, more of a faint outline than an actual shape, but it's enough to catch his attention. Keith's muscles seize up in an attempt to follow his immediate battle reflexes, but all that happens is that the pain increases tenfold, like liquid fire racing through his veins. A hiss leaves his lips involuntarily, and they draw back to bare his teeth as his back arches off the flat surface he's laying on.

His muscle spasms feel like they go on forever, but once they finally start to settle down, too weak to react to the pain, Keith dimly comes to the realisation that he's strapped down. He tries to tug his wrist out of the band holding it but to no avail; his body barely responds with more than a weak twitch of his fingers.

"I see you're awake."

Keith's blood runs cold. He's heard that voice before, even if his memory of it is hazy. He knows that voice. It was there when everything faded to black...and it's here now.

His eyes still don't manage to focus but even so, he can hear the grin in their following words, can picture sharp teeth, yellow eyes and purple Galra skin and hair, dimly remembers a hand holding his and a voice calling for him.

"Welcome back, Paladin. Ready to meet my Druid?"

– O –

It's been five weeks now.

Five weeks since that mission gone wrong, five weeks since Lance has become a complete shut-in, five weeks that's everyone had to deal with Keith's death.

It's been one week since Lance took that bayard and nothing else.

It's radio silence, and no one dares to disturb it, but Shiro can tell that it's not just Keith's loss that hit everyone hard. It's Lance's change in attitude that makes everything even worse.

He can tell from the way that Hunk still diligently provides him with meals and the worried, hurt looks he sends toward the door that remains closed, no matter what.

He can tell by how Pidge's habit of falling asleep in random places gains a dangerous element, how the tinkering she'd lose herself in hours at a time, once, now stretches on for days to the point where he has to carry her, asleep, back to her room, or for someone to force her to eat regularly.

He can tell by how Coran immerses himself in the work that needs doing on the castle even more than before, chattering louder than usual, only to disappear as soon as someone takes a too gentle tone and a simple inquiry of 'Are you alright?'

He can tell in the way Allura keeps up her brutal training regime, increasing how strict she is on them, in the hopes that no one notices her too frequent, vacant stares or how she cuts herself off mid-sentence before she utters a name too painful for anyone to hear, yet.

Shiro can tell that the rift among everyone is steadily growing because of the loss of a valuable team member, a member of their own little, rag-tag family, and is only helped along by the withdrawal of another. It feels like they didn't lose one, but two Paladins, two of their own, and the castle is busier than ever to bridge the sudden silence that wasn't there before.

It's killing Shiro, stifling him to the point where the silence seeps into the raw gap left in his heart, and it hurts until all he can do is silently scream. No one will hear, or at least it feels like it.

They're all falling apart, and he wants to fix it, even though the key to that isn't in his hands. So, he waits, but more and more times passes, until he can't, not anymore.

Something needs to be done, now, or nothing ever will, he resolves after one more silent, sleepless night as he stares at stars that aren't his own.

It's time.

– O –

Earth looks tiny.

It used to be everything any of them knew, with its blue skies that sometimes turned grey, or white, or, when you were in the right place at the right time, glorious shades of gold, pinks, purples. Other days, it may go up in a fiery display of yellow, red, orange, reflected on the water below, if you were outside of the city.

Lance thinks of glittering oceans, bright beaches, his family. Everything he left behind without saying goodbye or letting them know where he went...he wishes he would have.

Clouds, like thin wisps of cotton, drift across the rich greens and blues of Earth's surface. He slowly reaches out to touch the projection.

As a kid, it had always been a bit of a silly dream of his to find out if they were really were as soft as they looked. Maybe that was part of the reason why he trained as much as he could to get into the Garrison, to become a Fighter class pilot.

His fingers meet the hologram, and it flickers, buzzing static. Lance balls them into a fist and pulls back. The static disappears.

Unreachable, just like that dream, or becoming Fighter class. If not for Keith…

Lance blinks, and looks away. He feels like he's going to cry, again, and he hates it. He's cried enough that there shouldn't be any tears left.

"Hey."

He nearly jumps at the unexpected greeting, shoulders hunching. Shiro walks up next to him, hesitating shortly, before he sits down by his side. Lance can't look him in the eye.

"Sure looks small, doesn't it?"

Lance doesn't really know what to say, so he says nothing. Shiro sighs, and Lance tenses up; he can feel him looking at him.

"You've got everyone worried, you know." He pauses, but Lance doesn't give any indication of having heard him. Why? Why would they be worried? Shouldn't they all hate him too much for that? "All of us - we miss you."

That's unexpected.

So unexpected, in fact, that Lance twitches, involuntarily glancing over at Shiro. He isn't looking at him anymore; instead, his gaze is focused on the lazily spinning stars and planets surrounding them.

If Lance tries hard enough, only looking at it all sideways, they almost look like slowly drifting snow. Shiro doesn't say anything after that, and the room descends back into silence.

If it was just a little bit colder, Lance could imagine this was a snowy winter's day, maybe even Christmas Eve...how long have they been gone from Earth? Is his family looking for him? If it's Christmas...it would be the first Lance spends away from them...and who knows how they would celebrate, if at all -

He squeezes his eyes shut. This is too painful to think about, and the reason he came here was to escape pain, not find more.

"Come back, Lance." Shiro is staring at him again, an insistent sort of gaze digging into him. Lance stubbornly keeps his eyes away from him, away from Earth. "We - we know it's different now. Without -." he pauses, almost like he's choking. Lance's chest throbs in pain anyway, "- but that's why we have to hold on to who is left. We can't separate like this. Strength and unity is in numbers, and Voltron -"

"Voltron can't be formed." Lance bursts out, suddenly seeing red. How can Shiro be so cold? "Not without Keith."

There's another silence and it feels thick, somehow, tense.

"I was going to say, Voltron is dependent on our bond with each other." Shiro continues eventually, voice clipped. Lance shivers, dread beginning to fill him; that's the closest thing to anger he's ever heard from Shiro, and it's icy, cold anger, scary. "We all miss him, Lance." Another pause. "You're not the only one who lost someone."

Lance is unprepared for the raw hurt he can hear at that. He finally looks at him, and this time, their eyes meet. Shiro is frowning, and he blinks rapidly to dispel the tears Lance can see appearing, but he can still recognise the deep grief in Shiro's eyes. His stomach sinks with guilt, involuntarily recalling that first fateful rescue mission back on Earth.

"You knew each other before, didn't you?" he realises out loud, feeling his guilt multiply. Lance feels sick. Shiro nods, gaze drifting sideways again to rest on Earth's innocently spinning projection.

"Yes." he says, voice unusually hoarse. Shiro clears his throat but the hoarseness doesn't disappear. "He...he was like family."

Family.

Lance swallows, hard; as far as anyone knew, Keith had no family...except, apparently, Shiro. And now, Keith is gone.

Lance doesn't even want to imagine what it's like to lose anyone that close to him.

"H...how?" he manages to ask, a barely formed question in his head and equally crippled on his tongue, but Shiro seems to get it anyway.

"We met by...coincidence, I guess you could say." Shiro's voice sounds as if he's far off in the past, recalling fond memories, by his soft tone. "He was in an orphanage close to the Garrison. I walked past it every day, and at some point, we ran into each other...you know how quiet he is, he didn't say much but he was obviously fascinated by my uniform. He probably knew I attended the Garrison…" He breaks off, not finishing the sentence, but then continues with a waver in his voice.. "He seemed lonely and we slowly got talking. I'm not sure what I was to him, but to me...he became my family away from home. A brother I never had."

Shiro stops again, voice shaking too hard to continue. Lance is frozen, listening to Shiro as he fights to keep his composure, to keep that air of calm that always surrounds him and makes him seem untouchable. Lance doesn't know what to do, not with the revelation, not with a Shiro he has never seen as anything less than strong and stable, a rock keeping them all grounded. Not with a Shiro who is obviously falling apart, because hisfamily died.

And it's all Lance's fault. Keith is gone because of him, because he was stupid and such a fool -

"I'm sorry."

Now Lance is choking too and he can't even be bothered to try and hide how his eyes go blurry and hot once again. Earth begins to blink out of sight, nothing but a smear of colour among a whole galaxy of bright spots that disappear behind a hazy veil.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, voice breaking on the last syllable. His hands clench into fists on his lap; he doesn't even notice the weight of Shiro's hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…!"

"Don't apologise." Shiro interrupts Lance's blubbering, soft but firm, still somewhat stuffy. "Just, come back, talk to us -"

"You should hate me!" Lance blurts, shaking his head at Shiro's gentle insistence, all of the fear and guilt which has accumulated over the last few weeks spilling over, spurred on by grief.

Someone has to take the blame because Keith would never be so easily defeated, and that someone is Lance. It has to be. "All of you!"

The hand on his shoulder tightens and Shiro stills.

"Why?"

The question is as non-judgmental as Shiro always is but Lance doesn't deserve it, not this time. He hasn't told any of them, fear keeping him away because maybe they knew somehow anyway. So he let it rot inside him like a dark secret, acid eating away at his insides, but now it's all coming out, exploding like a volcano without rhyme or reason.

"Because I didn't believe him!" Lance yells hysterically, jumping up to look down at Shiro, shaking all over and eyes wide. More tears form and Lance wipes at them angrily but only more follow, falling fast, like the stream of words pouring out of him. "If only I had listened to him - he warned me about - about that alien - !"

"Whoa, slow down! What are you talking about?" Shiro's frowning again, standing so he's on eye level with Lance. It doesn't help him catch his gaze, back to skittering along the walls like some anxious animal or a terrified child about to be scolded, only much, much worse. Lance is fidgeting, pulling his sleeves over his fingers to rub against the worn red cloth underneath his jacket. The usual calm and reassurance doesn't come, doesn't settle heavy over his anxiety like it has since he returned and Keith didn't. Shiro's alarm is barely audible but still present in the way he swallows heavily, as if sensing what Lance has been hiding. "Lance?"

"Escaping didn't go as - as smoothly as planned. We ran into an escaped G-Galra prisoner on the way. K-Keith didn't trust it. But I did." Lance's nails dig hard into his palm, the physical pain almost a relief. His gaze focuses on the ground, a curious pitch black which stands in stark contrast to the rotating lights of the planets illuminating the rest of the room. "He was right not to. And I was wrong." He finally forces himself to look up but can barely stand against Shiro's shocked stare, dropping his eyes in overwhelming shame and guilt. "H-he saved me, Shiro. The alien was going to kill me and Keith jumped in the way. And then he-he -"

"Stop."

Lance chokes on air, past the point of caring that he can barely breathe past suppressed sobs, and covers his face with his hands.

"I killed Keith. It's my fault."

"Lance - "

"You h-hate me now, don't you?" Lance's voice comes out small, child-like, raw, hurt and so, so broken. He can feel more than hear Shiro shift and suddenly, he's enveloped in warmth.

"No." Shiro's voice is somewhere in the vicinity of his ear, and while this is unfamiliar, it also isn't. It's a hug, and bizarrely welcome, a touch Lance wasn't aware of how much he craved until now, and while it's not from family, it's close enough. One of Shiro's hands, the human one, warm and solid, is on the back of his head and pressing it against his shoulder. Lance can feel his breath steady a bit and the sobs weaken. "Never. Keith just did what he thought was right. It could have been any of us."

But it was me.

Lance doesn't say it out loud but he has a feeling Shiro can hear him anyway. He also chooses not to say anything, instead just keeps him locked in the hug. Maybe he knows that nothing but time can really lessen the guilt Lance feels, or maybe even nothing at all.

Lance lets himself sink into the hug, just a bit longer, because it's more soothing than anything he's tried so far. Eventually, finally, he pulls away, and forces himself to smile. It's small, wobbly, a touch embarrassed and still fragile, but it feels real.

"T-thank you." His voice is rough and his tongue feels thick, but at least he sounds stable.

Shiro nods, not quite smiling, not quite not-smiling. He turns halfway toward the exit, then looks back at Lance. "Ready to come back?"

Lance nods and Shiro does smile then. It's not a happy smile, but one full of defeat, and makes all the guilt he managed to bury return with vengeance. His chest throbs, and his fists unclench, letting go of his sleeves.

"Wait." Shiro stops mid-step, looking at him in puzzlement. Lance looks away, glowing a faint pink, as he peels himself out of his jacket and reveals Keith's underneath his own. Studiously avoiding Shiro's wide-eyed gaze, Lance takes that off too before hastily slipping his own jacket back on. He holds the familiar red garment out to Shiro. "Here. You - you need it more than I do."

Shiro doesn't move at all for a disconcerting amount of time, making Lance increasingly anxious. Just when he reaches the point where dread and curiosity make him want to look up, Shiro's hand closes around his. Lance dares to lift his eyes. Shiro's smile is still full of pain but also unfailingly kind, as always.

Lance still feels like he doesn't deserve it, any of it. But he does feel a little less raw at the edges.

"Keep it."

He wants to protest; Shiro has more of a right than him to anything Keith owns - owned - but he's already letting go. "He'd want you to have it."

Even if Lance wanted to say anything or offer more protest, he wouldn't know what. Not after that. He's speechless, for once. Trust Keith to be able to do that even after -

Lance swallows. Time for a topic change.

Why me?

"Are you sure?" he asks instead. Shiro nods again.

"Yeah."

And that's that. Shiro leaves, and Lance follows soon after, shutting off the planetarium.

Later, he joins the rest of the team for dinner for the first time in weeks, and even if nothing feels normal, not yet, and maybe never again, everyone breathes a bit easier.

– O –

It's one of many days when Allura gets up at her usual time and goes about her morning routine. As usual, the first thing she does, is check for any distress signals or satellite messages sent to the castle. Often enough, there's nothing of interest, only advertisements planets send out to attract more tourists; distress signals have luckily been rare lately, or perhaps not so luckily, as at least that would bring some much needed distraction to the heavy atmosphere permeating the castle.

Today is no different, until she finds it.

It looks the same as everything else at first glance, so she pays it little attention. Allura is almost done deleting all of the new, useless messages until she gets to this one. She opens it as per her usual way of doing it, only concentrating half-heartedly as she sips at her cup of that wonderful human invention Hunk calls coffee. Then this particular message's contents flash up on the gigantic holo-screen.

It's a Galra, a general by the looks of it. And just behind him, squeezed to the edge of the screen, is an unconscious but very much alive, very familiar looking face.

Allura's cup crashes to the ground, splashing hot liquid and broken shards everywhere.

"We have your Paladin, Princess of Altea. We would like to propose a trade."