A/N: Mmmm.. I have no idea what I wrote but enjoy! This will probably turn into a series of very long one-shots but as of yet I don't have a very big idea of were it is going. I'm really into the whole Galra/Altean!Keith. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

Connections with others is always hard to create, build, and maintain. People are always growing, growing up, growing away. They keep a handful of people close to the heart and others within arms reach. Those distrusted are kept at arm's length, at least, and are always scrutinized.

Keith sees the relationship between others, sees how it can be the epitome of a good thing and at other times, how there was growing tension between them.

Keith can't, however, recognize these connections between himself and his fellow team members. He knows that it's there. Because despite his years isolated from others, there is always a connection, between any one person to another. Connection is a constant. Reaction is a variable.

Take, for example, Lance and Hunk's connection. They were best friends for years, it seems. They have each other's backs, are supportive, and overall enjoy spending time together. The connection is plain to see, the reaction is easy to see as well. They exchange jokes and small talk, and once in awhile, have deep emotional talks about home and what they mean.

Their reaction is good.

Or Pidge's and Allura's connection. It was entirely different from Lance and Hunk's. They didn't nearly get along as well as the boys do. The only thing they have in common was that they were biologically "female" and that their family were taken by Galra. Regardless, the connection is still there, sparks between them whenever they argue.

Their reaction isn't terrible, it's rocky.

Keith and Lance's connection? It was.. there. Their reaction? Terrible. Or it was, then it wasn't, then it was terrible again. The changing reactions left Keith dizzy.

Keith and Shiro's connection? It's always been good. At least Keith thought so. He hoped so. Their reaction? It was good... at least he hoped so. Shiro had been one of the only people he trusted before Voltron and would always have his back. Sometimes, he thinks he can read their connection and dub it friend. Shiro's connection was the only one he could almost name and feel.

The others, he doesn't really know. The connection is there nonetheless, because they know of him and he knows of them. They know of each other's existence. Connection is absolute, whether or not one accepts that it exists. Reactions were different. It can be nonexistent (absolute zero, 0K, or 9000 on the color scale) to boiling point (1500 on the color scale or 373.16K). Keith likes to place reactions on the Kelvin scales of measurement of temperature and color.

Keith can read other's reaction, can plot the fluctuating force on the scale, between another. But can never place his and another's reactions on the same scales. It leaves him anxious for stability he knows won't come.

Keith knows, the longer they fight together, the more confused he will get about where he stands in his connections with others. He knows, to, that the longer they are together, the better connection others will form, the more isolated he will become. He sees it already. Lance and Hunk's connection doesn't include him in the mix. Hunk and Pidge's connection, Shiro and Allura, Lance and Coran. Along with the inability to place himself on his own scale in regards to his and other's connections, he also has trouble creating, building, and maintaining these connections.

Most people are suppose to be able to do it easily. Most people can do it easily.

Keith sighs, wiping sweat of his brow after training. He felt exhausted, and thought that this would take his mind off connections. It didn't really work. His body feels cold, heart lurching painfully with inner turmoil of his emotions. His muscles ache from his daily regime and it was late, way past dinner and when others went to bed.

Gulping down water, he deactivates his bayard and grabs his clothes, hitting the showers before grabbing a nightly snack and a few hours of sleep.

Often times, when he was suppose to be sleeping, Keith often finds himself staring up at the ceiling of his bed. Despite being huddled under his blanket, he still felt cold. He stays in bed because every time he makes a move to get up his muscles protested. He forgot to eat. That happens sometimes.. More than often, lately, he goes a few days before remembering.

It leaves his stomach growling, leaves his brain wide awake at night. It makes him think things he really shouldn't. He shouldn't, because eventually it might break morale. It could worsen his reactions with people on an imaginary scale that he doesn't know where he stands.

Still.

Why do people think he can handle everything by himself? It's not like he couldn't, he could... He means, if it needed to be done by himself, he would do it. That doesn't mean sometimes he can't. He'll try all he could and most of the time, his success is really multiple strokes of luck.

Keith gets separated during a fight? It's okay. Keith can handle himself. Keith is sent on a dangerous mission alone? Keith is the fastest, it's better for him to go. He could do it. Keith gets hurt? Keith can last longer while injured. He knows he puts up fronts that he could do anything they needed them to, keeps quiet about injuries until the last minute, can keep fighting despite the pain thrumming through his body. Anyone else who did that got worried looks and lectures at pushing themselves. It started out that way, but now they've dwindled.

Keith had always counted on Shiro, practically leaned on him for support. However, he sees, Shiro is one of the people who thinks he can carry himself like a grownup. He can, but it gets so exhausting. He's always done by, by himself. Doing that everyday, knowing others praise about being able to do so much on your own was meant to uplift him, but it only weighed him down. Keith wanted someone to lean on. He bites his lips and empties his mind.

Silence. Breathing. Deep inhale, deeper exhale.

Keith coughs, making to move his body. Instant pain. Sore, stiff muscles protesting even his shallow breathing. His vision swam, something wet dripped down the side of his face and he blinks away the haze to see what it was as it was dripping a steady puddle on the controls.

Blood.

Keith sucks in a breath, pausing halfway when he felt needles poking him inside. Red's dashboard was coated with blood, the lights were off. Red was offline. He gulps down the liquid in his mouth. A mix of blood and saliva. What had he been doing? He tries to think while not breathing to much.

They were getting Allura back.. Right. He fought against Zarkon. They got away, then.. corrupted wormhole. He looks out the dirty window, seeing nothing but dense foliage. Red was mostly on her stomach, but was slanted, which allowed Keith to stay suspiciously in his seat while they crashed. He forces himself up, shakily pushing buttons, trying to get a connection.

Red wasn't responding, and as far as he knew, he was alone.

Keith wasn't alone.

Keith takes in heavy breaths, clutching across his chest as he limps back toward Red. His body shook with adrenaline. His stomach was making waves and he leans against a thick trunk, leans forward from his hips, and promptly emptied the contents. It burned. The last thing he ate had been tasty going in, weird berries that looked safe. They left the inside of his throat cut, it hurt to swallow water.

Going back up it was worse. He vows to himself he wouldn't eat anything until he saw a native animal eat it first.

Red came back online. Her first thought was confusion, then worry. Keith was woken up from an uncomfortable sleep, slouched against the hallway wall.

It still hurt to breathe, his body ached more and more each day as he scavenged for food. Red scolds him for being stupid, for being reckless. Ultimately, though, she did save him. Told him of the bunker stowed away near where he tried to sleep.

It had first aid, dehydrated foods, and, thank god, Altean painkillers.

Keith gulps down his saliva from where he stood, hands shaking terribly around his activated bayard. Looks down at the body that struggled to gather blood-free breaths. Their clothes started to get soaked, leaving a steadily growing puddle in the grass underneath them.

Keith's mind is completely blank.

The Galra soldier gurgles, trying to speak. He only takes a pained inhale, staring back at Keith. He looked so young.. His eyes started to glass over, uncoordinated and unfocused. Keith watches them dim, half closed as they take their last breath.

This was the first time Keith realizes they were in the middle of a war.

The blood from his kill had soaked him down to the bone. In a nearby river he scrubs his skin raw with cold water, wishing it could be scalding. Wishing he had a washcloth and some body wash. The dark blood stained his pale skin. It colored his dark hair lighter. It hurt when he tried to wash it out, the blood that caked his hair glued his strands together like rubber cement.

Keith's skin was ice cold, his body shook, lips blue. He lets out a whimper, pulling out more hair as he got out a particularly large clump of clotted blood.

He was alone in every sense. Anxiety bubbled at the top of his skin, fear choked him. Loneliness seeped deep into his body. His breath starts to pick up, gasping for breath as tears stung his eyes. He bites his lip hard, to stop, but he was alone.

Keith sucked in a breath and screams.

Keith hid in Red's bunker for three days after that, surviving off tiny morsels of dehydrated food and space juice. After the incident, they had moved to hide in a cave miles and miles away. Keith thanks his luck he didn't encounter any more Galra. He knows time was slipping by. He had seen plenty of their spacecraft flying around.

He tries, every so often when he finds the strength to crawl out of the safety and warmth of his bunker, to call the team. Hopes someone finds him before the enemy does.

Keith doesn't want to die. He will, eventually. Maybe in battle, maybe in old age. Just like the light in the Galra's eyes he snuffed out, he too, can be taken from this world. It only made this seem less real. They were in space, fighting aliens. Fighting a galactic war.

Death was inevitable.

He had thrown up many times before he was able to take refuge in Red. To clean up his clothes and body, try to convince himself it was himself or the Galra. It was for the good of the mission. Red echos his comforting words.

Keith really hopes the others will find him before any Galra do.

When Keith was retrieved, he was not the same. He looked far worse than the others had when they were found. He kept his mouth shut with a quick I'm fine before holing himself up in his room.

In his mind, the Galra's light dim over and over again. His blood kept accumulating, slowly building up in Keith's lungs which he couldn't cough out.

Keith's ribs still hurt. They kept hurting for days even after he stumbled out of the pod, perfectly fine. He feels phantom pains on his chest, mirroring where he stabbed the Galra.

Keith doesn't feel like himself anymore. He wonders if he ever knew what it felt like at all.

Desperation. The others didn't understand. He gets that now. He does, he really does.. His connection with everyone on the team, including Shiro, has reached absolute zero. He realizes that, that its been at absolute zero for a while.

Train, sleep, eat, repeat. Mission, scouting, repair the Lions.

Their routine has become mundane. Mundane in the sense that there was only a handful of things they ever did at any given times.

After the second kill, Keith doesn't hesitate anymore. If anyone could do it, he could. He would carry himself as others thought he could. He'll protect these people, regardless of the temperature of their reactions to their connection. He trains hard, every day, any time he could.

Keith was worried about how numb he feels, staring down at the foot soldier at his feet. Pidge was extracting intel in the room over with Hunk keeping cover of the room, while he kept cover of the hallway. There hadn't been many that came after them, only a handful. The others were slouched against the walls, blood starting to puddle beneath their bodies.

He shouldn't feel nothing, right? He felt cold, unaffected as he stares at the dim eyes, a complete one eighty from the first time. His fingers twitch around his bayard and he resists the urge to stab it through the soldier's chest plate one last time. Somehow, he might break down. Feeling the same tingle of emotion prickling his insides. He doesn't pay it mind.

"Keith's not right." He overhears his teammates speak when he was around the corner, finally coming to join for dinner. The first time in many days. He freezes, gritting his teeth and keeping his eyes down on the spotless floor. Doesn't breathe. He hears a sigh.

"He has a lot on his plate." That was Shiro, ever supportive despite the slight waver in his voice.

"Shiro, he doesn't even blink!" Keith bites his lip, he knows what they were talking about. He pivots on his heel, hearing Pidge's voice thinning out the farther he left.

"What if he's a danger to the team?"

Keith needs to become better. Become stronger, he pushes the overheard conversation from his mind.

They were sacred. Maybe not for their lives, but scared nonetheless. Of Keith. Of his ability to kill without it affecting him. Without mercy, or thought. He's become reclusive, avoidant, even more so than what was a usual for him.

They don't understand.

They hadn't gotten it as bad as Keith did after their separation. Lance and Hunk had each other after the corrupted wormhole. Shiro was in a solar system that wasn't under Galra influence. And though Pidge also ended up alone, they too were in a non-Galra controlled space.

They haven't come face to face with their mortality yet, Keith knows that for certain. He doesn't want them to. Not because he thinks it's not important. It certainly is important to realize you can die at any moment in battle. But because, unlike him, even though they understand the basis of being able to die, they have yet to witness the lights flicker out of the person they are killing. The intimacy of the moment. Seeing yourself as the enemy and perishing the same way.

Terrifying.

There used to be the same glimmer in Keith's eyes before that moment that the others have. That ignorance. But he no longer sees the glimmer reflect in his own eyes. They are dull and blood red like Galra blood, the same red that stained his skin and clumped his hair. He doesn't want the others to go through the same thing.

But no one understands.

Small ship, rumors fly. Keith was a danger? He kills! No remorse! But he's never attacked us! Couldn't he kill us all easily?

Needless to say he withdraws even more, away from more rumors, away from the group. Voltron gets harder and harder to form. He stops rising to Lance's taunts. Stops talking besides a 'understood' and a 'got it.' Stops eating at scheduled times with the others, opting to eat in solitude when the rest are asleep. Stops going back to his room, not wanting time to think.

Either training room, or Red. He spent most of his time outside of training with Red. After a workout, muscles sore and burning, he showered and packed a small overnight bag with tiny snacks and clothes and necessities, and goes to sleep in Red's bunker. Often just listening to her purrs of comfort. They're misplaced. Still trying to soothe the same anxieties even though she sees and feels the changes between the other paladins.

The other lions, being privy to Keith's emotions through Red, understand, though they keep quiet per Red's request. Keith wouldn't want them to know. He doesn't belong with them. Not when they do hugs and pats on the back, not when they talk about families and have tender moments. Not the praise of a good work done.

Isolation.

They could still form Voltron. It was harder to maintain with Keith keeping up his walls, but it was easier than before. Keith used Red's mental process to be able to keep such a smooth connection with Voltron all the while keeping his mind tightly shut.

"Lance!" Keith yells his name, picking up a metal ball of what was probably ammo and chucks it at the soldier cornering Lance. It hits it's mark, the temple of the enemy and he falls, limp, to the side. Keith doesn't waste time before grabbing Lance's wrist and runs to the fallen bayard, shoving it back into Lance's hands.

They run and run and run, finding shelter at a fallen castle of rubble. They only had two bags with them, filled with foods and first aid. Keith holes them up in an empty, cold room with broken windows to keep an eye out.

Keith pulls of his helmet and wipes the blood off his visor with disinterest. Keith kills, always. For the team. So they don't feel as empty as he does. So they don't lose their place among them like he did. He sets the helmet down and moves to barricade the door with a faux armoire and makes Lance lay down on the bed, tattered and old as it was, for rest.

Lance is unusually quiet. Sometimes he tries to speak, strike up conversation when Keith is fixing his bandages and cleaning his wounds. Keith doesn't respond. He tries to poke and prod, no response. If Lance was being honest, he was scared.

Not really scared of Keith, as the others have expressed, but scared for him. He sees Keith's eyes zero in on the kill and how his pupils are wide when he stops, face apathetic. Lance doesn't see him rest, sleep, or eat. They've been stranded together for a few days, their communication line dead with interfering radio waves.

Lance usually always has the bed. Not that Keith ever takes a turn to sleep on it. He sits on the thick window sill, eyes never leaving the only entrance. Lance wasn't hogging the emergency supplies and food, but they seemed to drag on longer than they were suppose to. Whenever Lance worked up to nerve to ask Keith if he needed anything, Keith doesn't even look at him. Bayard is gripped tight in his hand. There were deep dark bags under his eyes, cheeks a little sunk in, shoulders tense.

Keith finally looks to him on the evening on the fifth day when he was being annoying. Well, more like lecturing Keith about the need to eat when he hadn't even touched a bite since they took to hiding. He looked so tired. It was the same tiredness he saw in his oldest sister before he left for the Garrison. It was bone deep exhaustion from life. He lifts a hand to take the open granola-like bar and nibbles on it, eyes sliding back to the space outside with a weak word of gratitude.

Lance watches his shaky fingers curl open the wrapper more. He ate half, then handed it back to Lance. Lance bites his lip, not wanting to force Keith to eat more despite his worry.

In Keith's eyes, he's replaceable. They all were, but he was the most replaceable. Socially inept, no place among the team. He digs his nails into his thigh and thinks of something else.

They had been found and extracted a day and a half later. Keith disappears, leaving Lance worried and wondering about the Red paladin. When he couldn't find him, he took a shower and went to bed.

Keith sucks in a breath, a feeling of deja vu washing over him as pain spreads through his body. Red was barely online, and he could feel the extension of her broken mechanical body. He was on the ceiling. Strange. He hears noise, movement of metal and wires sparking.

Lance.

"Keith!" He cries, maneuvers through the mess of broken wires and jagged metals that cut him. Maybe he wasn't on the ceiling, he thought briefly. As he saw Lance crawl in, he notices Red must be on her side, which then means he is leaning against the ceiling. Lance was by his side in seconds, assessing damages all the while trying to provide words of comfort.

Keith was dying. He feels it, remembers how the lights in the enemy's eyes flickered before they go blank. He feels it. There was a deep cut on his thigh, dangerously close to his femoral artery. Cuts up his arms and pain everywhere. The worse thing yet, was the thin, slim, and long shard stuck in his body. It was right above his left hip, digging in deep. It was hard to breathe and all he could taste was metal, trickling down his chin. He could hear Lance call his name at the same time he hears warning from Red that more were coming. More Glara forces. But, Allura was also coming with the rest of the team.

Keith opens his heavy eyelids and looks up at Lance. Freaking out and smearing blood into his hair. Keith huffs out a pitiful laugh.

"Stupid.." He barely is able to say. Lance is saying things like hold on, you'll make it. The team is coming. The same kind of messages Red relays to him. But he can't focus and he knows the Galra reinforcements are closer than the ship or the other lions.

"Lance.." He rasps, coughing out some blood that stuck to the inside of his esophagus. "Go to Blue.. Then the castle." His voice sounded far off. Lance makes a protesting noise and he had gone off. Keith can't focus enough to understand the whole thing. Something about not leaving him here alone. That he'll survive. He feels so slimy with all the blood soaking through the mesh material of his suit. He was probably sitting in a small pool of his own blood right now. If Lance moved him now he wouldn't survive.

"I'm not leaving you, Keith." Lance says and his voice sounds wet. Keith forces himself to open his eyes, eyelids heavy. His body was feeling so cold. Fingertips freezing. His heartbeat slowed down. Lance's eyes were wet with tears, some have already fallen. I fucked up. Keith thinks, swallowing a painful gulp of saliva and blood. Lance was watching him die, up-close and personal. He should've had Red shut the doors and lock them.

"I'm sory.." Keith slurs. "I coud't..protec.. You." He tries to breath slowly, deliberately. He vaguely hears Lance makes a noise but he couldn't open his eyes again, lids finally like dead weights. He hears Lance speaking again, but his hearing goes in and out, and he can't understand a word of it. "Go back..t-the others.. I-its fi..." He takes in a breath. "Find.. New paladin.."

He feels a rush of alarm from Red, worry and fear. He tries to soothe her but he was too exhausted to send any soothing waves her way. When his eyes focus he sees Lance again, trying to stop the bleeding. His tears falling freely.

"We'll get you back Keith.. Just stay with us." He keeps repeating like a mantra. Now it's just his name. Keith, Keith, Keith. His voice was like music. Keith shuts his eyes. He wasn't going to make it. But that doesn't mean he'll scar Lance for life when the lights really dim in his eyes. Lance didn't need to see his own mortality reflected in Keith. Keith shuts his eyes tighter, feeling the edges of consciousness ebb away. Slow, then nothing.

"Keith! Keith! KEITH!" Lance screams, his voice getting higher and more panicked for every second Keith slumps more against the wall like dead weight. He hears Allura's voice in the background, asking what's happening. But he can't form a coherent thought let alone sentences. He just keeps screaming until his throat is raw, and tries screaming more. He doesn't know how long it's been. Keith feels so cold as he presses a hand to his arm. His throat feels like razors and eyes feel like he's rubbed them with chili pepper.

There were bangs, explosions, everyone trying to speak all at once. Seconds (or minutes? An hour?) later, he feels a hand on his shoulder but he doesn't move his head from Keith's face. Bloodied, bruised, broken, and beyond pale. When arms picked him up and away he whined, unable to talk, and fussed when they pulled him away. Hunk was the one he saw going to Keith, picking him up gently, careful of his wounds. Lance thought for a moment that he saw Keith's face scrunch up in discomfort, then he saw the blood dripping off his form and thought it was a hallucination.

Shiro and Pidge were leading (dragging) him away. They hurry to the ship. The outside looked like hell. Broken spacecraft and craters. Blood splatters. He's never seen so much blood. When they fought it was usually cleaner than this.

He wasn't hurt, but he was shoved into a healing pod anyway before he could protest.

When he woke up, the team was there, catching and holding him up. He was confused, couldn't remember what happened prior. The others all look terrible, he duly notes. Dark eyes and worn out faces.

"Where's Keith?" He asks when he sees he wasn't among them. They all look away, pained expressions painting their features. Suddenly Lance felt an itch at his scalp. He feels it flake and flutter down and he watches it.

Blood.

Hunk takes mercy and sighs, pointing to a pod next to his, eyes downcast. Lance follows and takes a few stumbling steps toward the pod, eyes growing wet.

There was Keith. Still in the bloody paladin under skins, still very much unconscious, and still very much nearly dead if his stats are anything to go by.

"He barely made it.. A few more ticks and he would have been gone.." Allura speaks up quietly, gravely. Lance raises a hand to touch the glass and bites his lip, stifling his cries.

When did it get so bad?

Keith is in the pod for days. Ticks and ticks went by. Ticks turn into tocks turn into gloks. Tick, tock, glockenspeil. Lance sighs, staring at Keith's unconscious expression of frozen apathy.

Since his near untimely death had him confined to the pod for so long, the rest of the team have been needing to fight by themselves, sans forming Voltron. No Red Paladin, no Red Lion. And it wasn't as if the altercations they get into with Galra have been terribly bad, but they had been harder without Keith.

Ruthless Keith. Keith, who struck down enemies with a quick flick of his sword. Battles were always short and worriless with him on offense.

Keith had been stable enough to be taken out of the pod to be given a proper healing pod suit and cleaned up a day ago. Lance had to say, he looked much better not covered in blood. He still looked like he was at death's door, but now he at least looked like he was holding on to a life float. Eyes still sunk with dark circles under his eyes. Sharp cheekbones and sharper jaw, sharp like the weapons he wields, as sharp as his movements when Lance sees him across the battlefield, slicing down a foe.

Moving on.

The fights were longer, that much was clear. They, minus Keith, were not used to cutting down the enemy. They knocked out the flesh Galra while destroying the sentries. The team keeps getting hurt. Random cuts, bruising. The battles weren't as bloody as when Keith was with them, but there was blood. Namely, the team's.

I'm sorry... I coud't..protec.. You.

Lance bites his lip with worry. Lance was completely fine when he found Keith. A little banged up, sure, but mostly tired and with little wounds. Why would he say it like that? Keith always protects them.. But, he feels like the way he said it, it had meant something else. Lance hadn't mentioned it to the others. He sighs again.

Tick, tock, the glockenspiel keeps turning.

More days of Keith unconsciousness, more fights with Galra that leave the team hurt more. They cycled out of the pods around Keith in various increments between battles. Galra were getting more vicious without Keith as a buffer.

Lance sips his space juice, sitting on the floor in the healing pod room as he stared at Keith. He is perfectly healed now, but will probably scar where the wounds had been the deepest. The rest of the crew had went to sleep already. Shiro landing a hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze before he left.

I'm sory.. I coud't..protec.. You.

Lance blinks as he hears the hissing of the pod and stands up, ready to catch Keith as he stumbled out, half asleep. Lance holds him up. God, so small... Small waist, shoulders.. Was Lance taller than him? Keith frowns a little and wobbles, trying to get his footing.

"Hey there, buddy. I got you." Lance coos gently. Keith looks up at him, confused.

"I-whah..?" Keith looks around, squirming just a bit. Lance tries to not let the fact he could wrap an arm nearly completely around Keith's waist if he wanted to worry him. "...'m alive..?" Lance smiles and nods.

"You are. Must be hungry, too. Wanna freshen up and get some late night food goo? Rest of the space fam is asleep." Keith blinks owlishly before shutting his eyes and takes a breath. He could feel Red's presence, inquiring, he sends his own message back. He nods, just barely, to give Lance his answer. He gets a bright smile in return and is gently half-carried to his room for a change of clothes and then the showers.

Lance waits a bit away, giving him privacy but close enough to jump in if Keith needed help.

I'm sory.. I coud't..protec.. You.

It keeps circling in his head, a constant distraction. Keith stumbles out, freshly dressed and hair slightly damp. His cheeks had a flush across his face and his skin shone just slightly. Lance sticks close as he leads to the kitchen. Keith wobbles and walks slow, a barely noticeable limp in his step. Lance holds back asking about what he meant, because even though he had basically slept for two weeks, he still seemed exhausted.

Lance was being incredibly gentle and not annoying, Keith notices. He sits him down at the dining table and pushes in his chair, gets him a plate of goo with a spork to eat with. Then gingerly sets a glass of water to his left before sitting down, quiet, watching. It was a little unnerving as he shovels a little food in his mouth, trying to regain movement in his body. He finishes off his plate and water.

"... Lance." The man named sat straighter at attention. "You're staring." He watches from the corner of his eye Lance's face starting to turn red from embarrassment.

"S-sorry.. I'm just.." A deep breath. "Just really glad you're alright.." Now it's Keith's turn to stare. He supposed it wasn't out of the ordinary to worry for teammates. But he was expendable. They shouldn't be worried. Lance probably didn't get the memo.

"... Thanks," he says finally as Lance takes his empty dishes to the sink. Lance escorts Keith like a loyal guard to his room, hesitating to leave Keith alone. Keith gives Lance a small smile, beyond exhausted, but grateful for his company nonetheless.

Lance smiles back, bright and golden. There was still that shine in his eyes and Keith couldn't help but relax.

I'm sory.. I coud't..protec.. You.

He could. He did. He could still protect them... Given that the others still had that glimmer of immortality in their eyes. Next thing he knew he was crushed up against a solid, muscular chest and a hot body. Arms circled around him easily. It took a moment for Keith to register he was being hugged, arms hanging loosely at his sides before his cheeks redden and his arms hesitantly raise to rest his hands on Lance's side. His face buried in the crook of Lance's neck. How could he be so tall now? When had he been outgrown? Keith lets out a soft breath, relaxing into the hold.

Slowly, very slowly, Lance lets go. His arms loosely hanging over Keith's shoulders and Keith had to look up to meet his eyes. "Good night," He says it so softly and sweetly, Keith thought he might be dreaming. His cheeks redden and he watches as Lance turns and goes to, presumably, his own room.

Heat recedes from his body once Lance left and he turns and slinks into his room. "His room." Right. He packs a bag and limps his way to Red. He could feel her comfort, her relief he was okay. He could feel the other Lions' emotions resonating the same. He smiles as he climbs into his bunker and snuggles into familiar sheets, and quickly falls asleep.

See, the thing about being expendable is that at first people around you are grateful to have you. But as time wears on, it is very easily picked out that anyone can replace you. At your job, where they hire drones, in a group of friends, in a family. So when Keith left Red for breakfast that morning at Lance's urging, banging on Red's paw, he was met with relieved cries of happiness from everyone on board the ship. He flinched away from the hugs and touches, heating his skin uncomfortably. They didn't notice that. Or the way his smile was awkward and confused. Because he knew, once routine starts: sleep, eat, fight, train, repeat, these little nuances of teammate compassion will smooth over again to Keith being left at the edges of their small society.

Keith isn't stupid enough to fall for that, so he gives weak willed smiles in the guise of exhaustion that everyone accepts and go quiet so he can eat in peace. They talk among themselves, loud, and Keith is surprised to find Lance is just staring at him, not part of the muffled background of speech. He pauses to bring his spork to his lips for another bite, meeting his eyes. "You're staring again."

Lance blinks, cheeks flaring, and averts his eyes, mumbling something. Despite feeling uncomfortable with the touches of the others, he found himself wishing to be wrapped up in Lance's embrace like he had been the night prior. He squashes the feeling down and keeps eating. His muscles feel weak and he feels the itch to train. He catches the shimmer in each of their eyes, and he knows he has another chance.

Despite the others protest, Keith started training again. Running errands and missions. The fights become easier once more. He spends most of his time in Red now, most of his clothes folded and neatly put away in small crevices in his bunker. His muscles burn as he sleeps, offering little rest.

Keith was especially wired tonight. It had been a very close call. He'd almost let Pidge's glimmer go out. He'd seen the fear and trepidation in their eyes as they raised their bayard turned to deadly at an oncoming Galra soldier. He leapt, grabbed Pidge and twisted them, swinging his second arm with momentum. He cut the soldier's head clean off his shoulder. Blood spewed from the arteries, trickling like red rain on their suits.

It was too close. Pidge, who was catching up to him easily in height, should not have their glimmer go out first, let alone at all. They were scared of Keith, now. It was easy to see them shudder at the sight of him, tense when he was near. He started strategically avoiding them, only seeing them for mandatory team training.

After he scrubbed his skin raw from the blood, he grabbed some solid snacks and holed up in his bunker. The small confining space should make him claustrophobic, but it doesn't. The walls provide structure, the small space, safety behind thick metal. Most of all, Keith loved the gentle never-ending purr of Red that lulls him into easy sleep.

Keith understood he was expendable. That among the seven of them, eleven if you count the mice, he was most expendable. He knew the older ones played favorites, even if they didn't say so.

Pidge was Shiro's favorite.

Hunk was Allura's.

Lance was Coran's.

And Keith? Keith was no one's favorite. Even the mice favored Lance. Well, Keith can't say he wasn't anyone's favorite. He was sure he was Red's favorite but doesn't really know how well it measures up to being someone who was alive's favorite. Still, he found comfort with Red's insistence he was her only Paladin. Should another arise, she wouldn't accept them. Keith knew this wasn't realistic. Red was part of Voltron, needed to form. Number one priority was to defend the galaxy.

Keith pats her flank gently, feeling the thrum of her energy under his hand and replaying the last gruesome scene when he closes his eyes. Monster, his mind hisses as he watches his sword sink through Galra armor and into the soft flesh of their chest. Murderer. Keith presses his forehead on the cold, unyielding metal. Deep breath. Hold. Out. Repeat. He kisses the chipping paint and smiles gently. "Thanks, Red."

There was an itch to go train, but his muscles screamed at him and he gave in to the pleading coos of the Lion. He slept for nearly the whole day they were taking a break. Even Lance's morning alarm clock couldn't wake him.

"Red, come ooonn. Please let me in?" Lance begged outside the Red Lion, giving his best puppy dog eyes. He felt a little bit ridiculous to be doing this to a hunk of metal, albeit a very advanced, sentient hunk of metal in the shape of a lion, but he was beyond worried. Keith had barely spent any time with any one them anymore, and that's saying something since he was barely in their presence before. His room was untouched and cold, barely holding a single scent of his being. That was not normal.

"I just want to check up on him, I even got some yummy goo." He holds up the Altean version of tupperware, filled with purple goo. Hunk's new creation. He was very proud of himself to be able to make it taste like pb&j. "I'll keep on making noise and then he'll really wake up." He says, trying to go for threatening. He vaguely feels like he could hear a warning growl, but Red hesitantly opens her mouth. Lance grins wide and hops in, the hatch closing behind him. He wonders what she was so protective over. Keith, obviously, but they were safe here in the Castle of Lions.

He blinks when he gets to the cockpit and does not find Keith there. He furrows his brow and looks around, very, very, slowly. What if Keith just fit himself somewhere where he could fit into and Lance just didn't see him? There was a gentle tug at his mind he curiously felt and it pushed him to the side, just around the small hallway near the cockpit. And with another tug of his mind he looks down at a panel of the wall. Pursing his lips, unsure of how he knew what to do, he presses a button and it slides up without a sound.

And there he was. Keith, curled up in the blankets with his hair wild and everywhere. For a moment, Lance just stared at his peaceful face, juxtaposing it against the stern or blank expression he wears when he is with the team, when he interacts with Pidge on a need-to basis. Biting his lip, he reaches down and gives his shoulder, covered by a thick duvet, a small squeeze. Even through the fluff of blankets he could still feel Keith's bony shoulder. His paladin suit was neatly folded at a higher ledge along with his bayard. There were small indentations by the wall of his feet Lance thought might look like drawers for clothes. He feels an amused presence in his mind and frowns, looking around.

Weird.

Keith doesn't wake for another few minutes, Lance eventually settling on leaning against the wall outside the bunker as he waits, fiddling with the tupperware, thinking.

Yes, dangerous, he knew.

Should he ask Keith now? About his comment of not being able to protect them? He obviously does a very good job of it. Last week, he saved Pidge. Though Pidge had commented on his blood-thirst, Lance couldn't really think anything less of Keith. Pidge was scared of his power to kill. Even Shiro. Lance admits it puts him just a bit on edge. But as he glances over to Keith, alone and curled up in the bunker of his lion, he couldn't help but think Keith is the one who is scared.

What is he scared of?

Keith takes a breath and sighs it out, stretching out his body to hear satisfying cracks and pops in his bones.

Lance glances down into the bunker and watches Keith slowly coming to consciousness. He grins, then speaks. "Good morning, sleepy head." The result was instantaneous. Keith jumps, body bowing and his hand is on his bayard, activating it and pointing it out as he makes to jump. Lance squeaks and puts up his hands in surrender. "Keith, wait!" His wide eyes watching the Red Paladin still, blink, then furrow his brow.

"... Lance?" He questions, his bayard is deactivating and it's set back on the ledge. "What're you doing here?" He looks confused, and his expression turns just a little bit miffed and betrayed. Weird much? Anyway, why was Keith so on edge in his own lion, in the castle, anyway? Lance tries not to think too much about it.

"I got breakfast for you before it disappeared." He holds up the container, a spork on the top compartment. He smiles easy at him, not daring to hold out a hand to help him climb out. Keith stares for longer than he thinks he is suppose to before he nods, and pulls himself up out of the small space.

"Thanks.." He takes the tupperware gratefully, starting to eat it a moment later after settling on the floor next to Lance.

"Sooo, do all the Lions have little sleeping compartments? Or is Red just special?" Keith nearly snorts his spoon in a laugh.

"They all have one." He says, amused, a hopeful swelling budding in his chest he squashes down. "Blue has hers on the right side instead, though."

"What- how do you know?"

"You've had her for years, how do you not?" Lance looks offended and he tried not to take the bait of a fight. He just huffs.

"Whatever. I'll check it out later." He feels the amusement wash over him again that wasn't his and he frowns. What was that? Keith finishes off his container, short of licking it, and hands it back.

"Thank you, though." Lance smiles and nods, giving a small you're welcome back and they lapse into silence.

Lance watches Keith as he stretches, relaxing his muscles and being generally more at ease than when he was outside his Lion. He catches a slight bruise on his hip trailing up to his rib, and frowns. Also finding a patch of purple on the inside of his arm and a bit on his neck.

"Have you been to the med bay yet? You should prolly get those checked out." He points to the obvious bruises and Keith covers up subconsciously.

"You were staring again.." He huffs a bit. "And I'm fine. It's just bruising, it doesn't even hurt." It was true. He'd been poking them for a day or two and there was no pain, or any soreness for that matter. Lance didn't look convinced.

"Alright, fine. Get up then, let's go train. I'm sure you've been dying too since you slept for an entire arc-second."

Lance pays attention to Keith. Not in the normal sense, and he can't say it's a distraction either. He watches the way Keith moves in training, in battle. Watches the bruising form more, then days later only disappearing without getting that weird yellow tint. He sees Keith tense in the presence of others, relax in the bunker of his Lion. Red lets him in easily now, what was her deal before? Watches as Keith comes down from an adrenaline high and goes to the showers to scrub until his skin is molten red. Washes his suit three to four times, as if trying to get rid of the blood that's been soaked time and time again into the mesh.

Most of all, Lance watches as Keith becomes their greatest weapon. Actually, scratch that, because he had that feeling long before. Keith was their ace in the hole, or however that saying goes. All he does, he does for Voltron.

But Keith is scared. He sees it in his dull eyes, staring ahead at the dinner table when Lance is able to drag him to a group dinner. It's more quiet than when he isn't there, because Pidge and Hunk are still scared, and Shiro is on edge from the last mission. Allura and Coran try to remain as before, but their hesitancy is obvious. He's not scared of death, Lance thinks. Or he is, but shuts it off. He is scared, but something that doesn't have to do with fighting or dying.

Lance watches Keith carefully, every time. In training, on missions, whenever he keeps him company in Red's cockpit. Keith stops mentioning that he was staring, and Lance had stopped blushing after the seventh time at being caught. This was important. More important than keeping up pretenses of not having a crush on Keith.

He wants to find out what is going on inside his head, but doesn't know how to approach it. The presence in Red's cockpit is familiar now, and he doesn't pay it mind as he feels the pin prick of a thought that wasn't his speak through his mouth.

"Keith," He starts, and the young man mentioned turns his gaze to Lance from where it was reading an electronic book. "Back.. Back at that desert planet.. When you said you were sorry you couldn't protect us, what did you mean?" Keith's posture tenses just slightly as his shoulders raise, his eyes widen a fraction, and he stares for what feels like hours. His expression goes from surprise, to shock, to trepidation, to remorse, then to resignation in the span of a handful of ticks.

Keith opens his mouth, and the alarm blares over the telecoms.

Galra.

Keith pants, reading the blinking red lights on Red's screen to assess the damage so far. His body hurt from taking so many hits when Red wasn't built to be a tank. They were halfway through their mission, their third one consecutively. Pidge's family was held at the Galra ship they were currently flying too.

He takes a breath and looks down at the bit of flesh that could be seen from underneath torn fabric. Purple, like Galra.

Deep breath. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. He could do this.

Inhale. Exhale. He glances at a reflective surface and grimaces. Golden eyes stares back at him. He hears Red croon in comfort. You're okay. It'll be okay. You're not a monster. He tries to believe her. This change has been happening slowly, slow enough that he noticed it quickly that the bruises were not bruises. The yellow eyes and painful light were not a trick of the eye. Red helps him to realize one morning when he wakes up with bat ears too big for his head. She calmed him down, and he willed them away with difficulty.

The team will understand. They all will. She promises. But they won't. Keith knows they won't. And he knows Red had an idea that they won't. So instead of trying to lie to him, she growls protectively that she won't let anything happen to him. They won't dare harm a single hair on his head.

Keith didn't particularly feel like he could will away the Galra features blossoming across his face and body. Not when he hadn't slept in days, or eaten anything for longer. When his body ached something fierce, more than before. When he was just so tired. He wished he could just fall asleep with his head on Lance's lap, him playing with his hair and gently massaging his scalp.

Deep breath. Exhale.

The team video feed pops up on his dash and he is few ticks to late to turn it off. He hears horrified gasps, at least four of them.

"Keith?!" Shiro exclaims. Allura is strangely quiet. "Where you..? You're..."

Keith sees the ship ahead, ignoring to comment. "Proceeding as instructed." He says, shoving the controls forward and practically bulldozed his Lion head first into the ship. He hears the sound of battle from the other end of the ship. They were coming from all sides. He ignores the chatter on his communication feed and runs, slashing and weaving through both Galra and drones.

"I'm in position." He responds to no one's question, panting harshly. Reluctantly, Pidge speaks.

"Me too." The other paladins respond in kind. Keith opens the controls easily, opening to a group of prisoners on his cell block. He looks around them as they press back against the walls and cower.

He really did have the best luck, didn't he?

"I found Matt." He nearly whispers into the feed, his fangs showing as he catches his breath. Pidge's voice screams at him to stay there, don't hurt them. He gets confused for a moment before he steps into the area and grabs at Matt's arm. He looks so much like Pidge. Nearly same height too. "Come on, we're getting you all out of here." He hears Matt yelp as he pulls, maybe a little too harshly, and smashes the controls so the cell door stays open.

He drags the man forward, noticing how he trips a few times. Their rendezvous was in the center, with Pidge. After dropping him off he would have to book it to his Lion. Turning a corner, he sees Green, and aims to run to them. There was a sudden pain going up his side and he is thrown. His grip of Matt retracts, and he gets up quickly, glaring around to see which enemy struck him.

It was Pidge, and they were no enemy. They had a look of pure fear and unadulterated betrayal as they stare at Keith, and helps Matt up. They run to Green quickly, disappearing into the mouth.

Keith hears Allura on the intercom.

"Retreat. Mission is accomplished."

He hears the others say the affirmative and they were already in their Lions and making their way to the ships. But Keith was not near his Lion. It was on the other side of the ship.

"I'm recalling Red manually." Allura's voice cants over the com. Keith's eyes widen, and he scrambles up to book it to Red, slashing down enemies he runs into frantically in his wake.

They wouldn't, right? Allura wouldn't. Leave him on this ship. He couldn't be that expendable... Right?

Keith sees Red, feels her struggle against the override thrust onto her. Keith pushes his legs further, they burn.

"Red!" He screams as he sees her being dragged away to the castle in a hyper beam. Everything he hears is white noise as he nonsensically jumps to try and get to her still open mouth, both hoping he could make it.

But she was nearly ten kilometers away and when he ejected himself out from the Galra ship, into the void of space with his oxygen turned on, he just froze and floated in the zero gravity. Eyes watching, heart wrenching as Red is taken into the castle with the other Lions flying in with their paladins.

Crack, split, shatter.

Like Keith's heart was made of porcelain. It broke with one tap as he watches a wormhole open and they jump, leaving him behind.

"Guys? Guys!" He tries desperately to reach them. But either they were ignoring him, or Allura cut off his connection to everyone else.

Expendable. They could find someone else. That's what happens to soldiers, good or otherwise.

Soldiers are always replaceable.

Keith sucks in a breath, tears blurring his vision of the wreckage and the long since gone wormhole. He doesn't know how long he's been floating endlessly. Rather abruptly he feels himself being tugged up and he looks behind him, a new Galra ship hyper beaming him into the ship.

No! No! No…

Struggle was futile, and his throat closes up at his inevitable capture. Capture his teammates left him too. He grits his teeth.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.

Lance jumps out of Blue, running to commons room. They got Matt back! He couldn't wait to see the reunion! But, he pauses by Red's entrance. He shakes his head, the things he heard on the coms were weird, but Keith would be at the room with the others, he was the hero today!

So he ran, quickly, and burst through where Pidge and Shiro hugged Matt close, rocking and sharing happy tears. Hunk and Coran gave them space, but smiles at their reunion. Allura smiles, pinched. But..

"Where's Keith?" He asks out loud. Loud enough for them to tense and look to him. Allura's pinched smile turns into a flat line, eyes glaring. Everyone seemed to turn to that, pained, betrayed. "Where's Keith?" Matt is confused. That's okay. He was asking the other teammates. What is going on?

"He's gone." Allura spoke, tone dark and leveled. Shiro and Pidge share a look that spoke of unrivaled bitterness.

"What do you mean, gone?!" Lance's voice cracked, panic starting to rise. "He was right there! He got Matt to you! What do you mean he's gone?!" He screamed, looked at Hunk. Hunk looks away, guilty. Coran takes on the same expression as Allura.

"We left him." Lance's eyes bugged out of his eyes. They've gotta be kidding.. Right?

"You... You seriously.. Left him? To die?" He takes in a shaky breath, and then he feels it. A pain ripping through his body the most intense he's ever felt. The pain was deeper than flesh, deep into his nerves and emotions. Hurt, betrayal, a mortal mental wound that will take years to heal. He sees flashes, pictures, of Red being taken, of Keith jumping and trying in vain to get to her as she was forcefully ripped from his reach.

"You took Red away and left him to die on the broken battleship?!" He screeches. Hunk flinches and looks away more, feeling guilty by the second. Allura hardens her glare.

"He is Galra. He deserves what he gets." Lance stares at her, tears building up in his eyes and dangerously close to spilling over. Belatedly he realizes the pictures and feelings he saw were not his. They were the same familiar presence he felt when he kept Keith company in Red. The presence was Red. Those were Red's thoughts and feelings, Red's desperate cries gone unheard and unheeded to protect her paladin.

Lance was going to throw up.

"He is Keith!" He screams. "How can you leave one of your teammates to fucking die?!"

"Lance-"

"No! Shut up! What the fuck is your problem?! Are we all just usable soldiers for you?! Plastic forks to throw out after one use?! You left him! To die! Floating in fucking space!" He was crying now, and he hisses when Hunk tries to put a, what was suppose to be, comforting arm on his shoulder. "Don't fucking touch me!" He glares deadly at them all, and turns tail to run to Red, hoping it wasn't true.

It was true. Red, perched in her spot in the hanger, sat still and frozen, her particle barrier up. Lance wipes away the tears, touching the shield. He feels her pain, her worry. Despite her brash demeanor, she was a mother hen to her paladin.

Keith.

Lance clenches his teeth. We'll get him back, he sends to her. We'll get him back. He promises. He feels Blue, now able to sense the difference between her and Red's presences. Blue sends her own shock and anger, soft whines of comfort, backing up Lance's promise.

Red doesn't let anyone in, override codes be damned. Somehow, someway, she changed her code so she didn't have the same ones as before. Unhackable. She refuses to let even Allura in, let alone Matt, who Allura has deemed good enough to pilot her.

Refused indefinitely. Lance agreed, feeling his own boiling rage at his so called 'companions' resonate with Red.

The battles and missions get harder, again, and now they are unable to form Voltron. Again. But unlike before when Keith was in a healing pod for days, their team is having another rift. Between Lance, Red, Blue, and the rest of them. Sometimes he thinks he can feel the other's Lions and the way they feel about leaving Keith to die, but then it could be his imagination.

Lance bites his lip hard, and ends up drifting more and more from the team. He hopes, and hopes, and hopes, that they see what they've done and wishes the guilt eats them alive.

With Keith gone, he starts being reckless and harsh. Get the job done. No more flirting with alien babes. No more cracking puns and jokes that make others cringe. He hardens his glare and goes forward, ignoring the teams imploring and guilty glances. Their pleas for him to rest as he throws himself into training like Keith would have. He wonders if this was what Keith felt before. On a different level.

Lance avoids and ignores Pidge, Shiro, and Allura like the plague. Hunk and Coran are alright, sometimes. And Matt is just too awkward to be around. First Keith saves him, then Allura declares him to be the new Red Paladin replacement. Lance nearly saw red when it was announced, not a week later.

Lance gives a battle cry as he slashes the practice drone to the floor, panting and his muscles ache from using a weapon he hadn't ever used. Expand his horizons. He needed everything if he was going to find Keith and bring him back, since the others wouldn't help.

Lance bites his lip again, harder. He hopes, to high heaven and deep hell, that Keith was alright.

I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Keith.

After his capture, Keith couldn't say how long he was held.

They broke him again and again. The porcelain shattered into smaller and smaller pieces.

Where is Voltron?

Who are the Paladins?

These answers he had no part in answering, tortured or otherwise, he would not rat out the team who left him. It hurt his heart, it squeezed hard and painful behind his ribs. He would not, not now and not ever, expose them. Their possible family that could be taken for hostage. When they tried to use magic, his mind was blocked powerfully.

After a while they gave up asking. When he didn't struggle against constraints or torture, Haggar was brought in.

You can become our greatest weapon. She whispered, hissed practically. And Keith was nothing if not a good soldier for whoever needed him. And he was too broken to care that it was Haggar and Zarkon who wanted him. At least they didn't lie about him being replaceable. That was easier to take. He knew what he was getting into.

Soon, his memories of the paladins became glazed and far off. He was no longer Keith, Red Paladin of Voltron. Now he was Krychek, Galra's greatest weapon. He didn't feel like himself. Like he was puppeteering his body around. Like the edges of his mind were gone, disconnected.

At first, they kept him under heavy guard and chain. It became obvious he was no longer on Team Voltron when he overtook a planet. He didn't kill the civilians, and he didn't let the Galra under his wing kill them either. Subdue the best they can, keep them prisoner. But he had done it. Quickly, efficiently, and everyone was under his control now.

Then, he was given slight freedom. Haggar had taken a liking to him, noticing something very interesting.

Galra was one thing, Altean was another.

Keith's marks showed up late, after the reconquering of a very strategic planet. Gentle baby blue marks under his golden orbs. Haggar grinned and grinned after she saw them.

Yessss. She hissed, and took him under her wing, grin split wide in a way he had never seen on her face.

Quintessence. Keith could feel it under his skin when he learns to control magic. Ignores the news of Voltron and its paladins, down one Red Lion. He could feel, faintly, very faintly, the tugs of pain and sorrow from his Lion. He wonders if Red really denied a new paladin. If she was pulling a fit. He lets the thoughts drift away. Focus on the mission.

The marks under his eyes start to become deformed. They stretched down his cheeks like Haggar's did and he touches them gently as he stares in a mirror in his private quarters of a newly reclaimed moon.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat.

The team saw Lance become battled hardened in a matter of weeks after Keith's absence. They saw it in the way he took over to fighting, his style a mix between his own, distance, and Keith's close combat offense. He added Shiro's defense tactics and mimicked Pidge's quick wit.

It had been close to three months since Red holed herself up and refused to let anyone in. Refused a potential paladin despite Allura's best efforts to get her to open up. Allura had been training Matt, he had wanted to help. He still had a long way to go to get on Keith's level, though.

Red kept everyone out. Except Lance. After a hard battle and failed attempt at finding Keith (Lance's side mission was to find him, always), he would come and talk to her. Whispering into her particle barrier and sending waves of sympathy and I'm sorry I haven't found him yet. I'll try harder. He feels her respond, stronger than ever. Nearly as strong as his own bond with Blue. After a few times of that, Red had let down her particle barrier. Lance was surprised, very, very, surprised. But he didn't question it. He went right up into her mouth and to the cockpit as she put up her walls. Finding comfort in their share angst.

Allura interrogated him for hours on how he got Red to let him in. He kept quiet, giving glares every once in awhile.

"Red's paladin was left to die, by you, all of you, and you think she would just be all hunky-dory and accept you and your new recruit?" He practically growls, his blue eyes sharp as diamonds. "Get real."

For the first time since she made the decision, she thought she had made a very real, very detrimental mistake in judgement.

Now wasn't the time to think about it, though. Galra influence had been reclaiming planets and systems they had since before liberated.

Lance steels himself against the wall, panting softly. This mission was impossible, hence, he nicknamed it Mission Impossible. Rumors had it Haggar had created a new weapon. It was that same weapon that had been running amok and reclaiming planets from rebel forces. Currently, this said force was staying at the Galra base erected along the edges of the planets ocean side. The waters itself entirely pink.

Lance, along with Pidge and Hunk, had been given the special mission to hunt down this Ultimate Weapon and subdue it.

Any of them have yet to kill someone so personally. This would be a first for them. Allura had told them there was no other way. Strung on edge, hiding. Stealth. Pidge and Hunk took Green. Lance took Blue. There wasn't going to be a chance he was left like Keith was months ago. He wasn't going to loose the only possible way to find Keith simply because Allura felt his mind was elsewhere.

So here they were, ducking behind this weird storage closet type thing, Galra sentry hand in tow, listening.

Foot steps. Soft, soft, barely there. It willows by the door. Pidge looks at the camera, a tiny little spy drone outside. The figure was short, covered in a druid cloak and wearing a mask. Four crow eyes and sharp marks down the cheeks. The mask was long, covering the druid's neck in the process. They could take it easy, but never judge a book by its cover. If this was the secret weapon they were hunting, they were in for one hell of a fight.

"Krychek." A deep voice calls. The druid stops and turns full body toward an oncoming commander, the only way it said it was listening. Krychek was the name of the greatest weapon. Krychek. Holy shit. If this wasn't a life or death situation, Lance would be having a party to know an alien has the same name as one of his favorite characters from the X-Files. "Haggar sends orders of your next mission. Control room."

The druid- Krychek, lifts a small, taloned, fisted hand to his chest.

"Vrepit sa." It says so quietly, so unlike all the other robobeasts Haggar created. This creation seemed to have intelligence beyond grade school. That makes it all the more dangerous. The commander nods and turns tail to leave. It was obvious he was nervous to be around this 'weapon.' Lance couldn't wait to see what it could do.

Krychek leaves, back the way he came. The three file out and follow, many, many steps behind. It seemed to be alone, always, trusted to do what is needed. It goes through an open archway of a door to the large panel of a computer screen. They couldn't let it contact Haggar, he shares a look with the others.

Hunk went first, ducking into the open room quick and firing his blaster. It hits Krychek in the mask as he turns at the sound. Once, twice, the mask cracks and chips at the bottom. It disappears and reappears in front of Hunk, pushing him back to the wall with powerful magic. Lance could see now, with the half broken mask, soft mauve skin, and marks. Jagged on his cheeks, baby blue, like Haggar's pink.

Pidge goes next. Giving a battle cry as they try for quick jabs and hits with her taser. It does not work. Krychek disappears and pushes Pidge to the opposite side of the room. Hunk recovers quick, as does Pidge, and they attack simultaneously. Lance notices, crouching behind the opening, that this thing was holding back. It could easily subdue and kill them. They don't have any real practice for battling druids. For whatever reason, it seemed hesitant to kill.

Hunk's blaster hits Krychek's mask, catching at the forehead. It might've been a deadly one if not for the safety the mask provided. Lance was waiting for the opportunity.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.

Lance froze as he saw the mask fall away to reveal the face. The hood snagged down by Pidge's desperation at trying to subdue it.

Lance would recognize that mullet anywhere!

"Keith!" He screams out, jumping out and shooting. He wasn't aiming at the druid, though. He aimed at the pipe Pidge held to hit him. It klinks and falls from her hands, flying away as he charges, not at Krychek, but at Hunk who tries to tackle him. "Keith!" He tries again, his eyes trained on the druid who seemed to pause to stare at the new arrival.

"Keith?!" Hunk and Pidge cry out, eyes wide. They move into position and Lance growls.

"Don't!" But they don't listen as they charge at Krychek- Keith. Galra, druid Keith. Those golden orbs turn to slits and he glares, sending all of them flying away. Lance lets his bayard die down and he hooks it back into his paladin suit as he scrambles up to his feet. "Keith!" He calls his name as said person turns back to the computer and hovers a hand over a button. Unusual pause. Lance feels Red calling to him, reading his pulses of hope- so much hope- and excitement.

"Lance, no!" Pidge cries, wincing as they sat. They heard sentries down the hall, and they close the door quickly with their stolen drone hand, then broke the lock.

Lance throws himself at Keith, no weapons raised. But Keith still tensed and sent him flying backwards, staring at him with a blank, but oddly thoughtful, expression. Lance cries out in pain as he sits up and pulls himself to his feet. His back was going to be fully black and blue tomorrow.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" He says as he ignores the pain, trying to get close again. Keith was so close, just a few more feet- and he was thrown back again, harder. He nearly blanks out as his head collides with the wall. He didn't hear a crack, so he was still okay. Just going to have a very huge headache tomorrow. "Keith," he hisses out as he gets to his feet again. By now, he had forgotten about Hunk and Pidge, about the drones banging on the door. All he could think was Keith was right there and he will come home.

Lance notices a minute too late, that Hunk was right behind the frozen druid, a large piece of broken tech in his hands, and it was brought down on Keith's head. Hard. He hears the resounding noise and Lance screams.

"Hunk! Stop!" His face scrunches up in anger and his bayard is raised, poised to fire as he makes his way. He does fire, at the metal, when Hunk doesn't heed his warning and swung his arms down for the kill. The laser hits the metal and sends Hunk sprawling backwards with a surprised cry. Lance is by the druid's side in seconds, taking a delicate arm and getting it around his shoulders.

"Lance! What're you doing?!" Pidge screams, terrified. He had fired at Hunk. "He's the enemy!"

"Saving my friend! Or have you forgotten it's your fault he's like this?" He shot back. "I'm not leaving him again." Hunk stares, and gulps down some saliva.

No time to argue. They needed to get out.

"Pidge, let's go. Get us out." Hunk says, getting up and poising his blaster.. At the door. Lance could grin with the joy that spreads through him that Hunk was on his side for once. Lance knew the guilt was eating him alive.

"What?! With the Galra?!" Pidge screeches, up on her feet but her bayard raised at Lance and Keith.

Lance glowers, and it sent a shiver of fear down Pidge's body.

"Yes. With the 'Galra.'" He says in a mock tone. "Unless you want all of us to die right here right now. Because I'm not leaving him again."

Pidge bit her lip hard enough to bruise, and then nodded stiffly. They got out through the wall on the opposite side of the room. Hunk blasted a new doorway and they ran. No time for careful sleuthing, run, run, run back to the Lions.

They had gotten a few laser burns for their troubles, but nothing they couldn't handle. When Lance quickly deposited the unconscious Keith- god he hopes to god it was Keith and not some random Galra raised druid- into his bunker for safety, he felt twin purrs of joy from Blue and Red. Red especially. He takes his seat and flies, thrusters working at one hundred percent back to the wormhole they came from.

Lance keeps the particle barrier up around Blue. It matches Red's and he smiles in amusement. Now Allura has to deal with not one but two AWOL paladins.

The first wasn't AWOL. The first was left for dead. But Lance had really gone AWOL. He didn't care. Red purrs and coos, sending wave after wave of contradicting energy. Joy, fear, worry, relief, and they all mixed together with his and Blue's. He doesn't even know which emotions are his.

Allura and Shiro are trying to reach him on the intercom. His helmet is off and he is long since turned from the dash, ignoring the pleas, the angry retorts and confrontation. He could hear Pidge's voice, angry, fearful. High pitched in a way he hadn't heard in awhile. He ignores it all. The bunker is open to see the unconscious figure inside. The pillow is being stained red and he knows Keith/Krychek had a head injury. He values his own, and the druids, life too much to attempt to get close without permission.

So, Lance waits. And waits. The intercoms go quiet. He supposes Allura is now trying to override Blue's control. Little did she know the three of them (Lance, Blue, and Red) have taken up to change Blue's code so they wouldn't work. Their attempts were as futile as they were with Red. Lance feels her worry more when she reaches out mentally to Keith. He was still connected, faintly, but not responding.

I'm sorry, Red. Hunk hit him hard and knocked him out. He'll pull through. He thinks back to placate her.

He waits, and waits, and waits. It's been many ticks. So many, he dug out some snacks and ate, sitting in the hallway by the bunker. On the right, like Keith had told him.

Hunk is nice enough to bring food. Gently patting the barrier. Lance purses his lips and opens a private chat line, haven taken up his helmet again.

"I'm only letting you in if you don't try to kill him." Lance says bluntly. He hears the slight hitch in Hunk's breath.

"I won't," he answers quickly. Too quickly, but Lance knows this is not because he was lying. It was because Hunk had hurt, too, when they left Keith on that ship. The guilt ate at him slowly. He joined Lance for training sometimes. "I brought food goo for both of you."

Lance chances a glance around. And with Hunk's say so that there was no one else, lets him in. There was no way Hunk would lie to him and have everyone attack and subdue them. He hears the regret and tiredness in his voice. The wish to see his friend, albeit this friend has changed. A lot. And part of it was their fault.

Hunk passes through into Blue quickly and the shield goes up in a heartbeat. Then they sit across from each other, leaning against the wall as they eat their portions of goo (strawberry, this time) quietly. Keith's was sitting by the side. Hunk had been gracious enough to bring a first aid kit too. Hunk was so lovable.

Many ticks after they finished food, Keith starts to stir. A whine, high pitched, escapes the pale purple lips. Lance sits at attention and peeks into the bunker, watching with wide eyes as Keith squirms and blinks his eyes. Once, twice, thrice. Then some more, vision probably blurred.

"Whe- what-" He mutters quietly, Lance goes undetected as he stares at the metal wall, streaks of soft blue light lined some walls. Lance couldn't help but smile, sighing mentally.

"Keith," The Galra whips his head around to him, eyes impossibly wide and terror running through his veins. "Good morning, we brought you food goo."

Lance yelps as he was flung from where he crouched to the opposite wall near Hunk, grunting at the pain. Hunk freezes, but pointedly does not reach for his bayard as he watches the Galra start to crawl out. The Galra raises his eyes and they stare at each other- time froze for a few minutes. The Galra- Krychek, Hunk can't yet call him Keith like Lance could- curled up his arms to send some magic.

Lance coughs beside him as he sits up.

"Hey, hey, shh.. Keith, you're safe." He raises his hands in surrender that made Krychek pause. Doing magic in such close quarters could possibly kill them. Well. Lance and himself. Krychek might survive a blast of his own magic.

"Safe." Lance coos, leaning back against the wall he was flung too. "Red is here too." He says, all excited smiles as he feels Red fire off emotions in bursts of fireworks.

Paladin safe! Keith here! Relief!

Lance smiles more when he could practically decipher her feelings into words, watching Keith's face turn from alarm to surprise, staying at shock. He says nothing. Stays still. But his arms lower hesitantly.

"Safe," Lance says softly, giving a sigh. After a moment of silence, and feeling pain creep up his body, he speaks again.

"Your head is hurt, can I tend to it?"

If he didn't know any better, he would say Keith's eyes were glazed over in tears, probably focusing on Red and her frantic messages. Keith blinks and tenses, but when he sees Lance does not try to make a move, he relaxes.

It takes a while for Druid-Keith to be okay with Lance inching his way closer every minute with pain killers and first aid. Hissing softly when he moved too fast, but otherwise does not attack.

Even if they left him to be taken. To be turned into a weapon for the enemy, he still couldn't hurt them.. Like really hurt them. He had been flabbergasted when Hunk charged at him back at the Hanma base by the ocean on Naple. Worse, seeing Pidge attack him. Sure, they might not have known, but he never wanted to see them again. Ever. If he could help it. He guessed he couldn't. Because when you are a weapon for Galra, Voltron will try and take you out. He didn't think it was going to happen so soon, though. He didn't think they would attack now. If they had waited more months, maybe a year. He could have squashed the feelings for his former teammates. For Lance, especially. Enough to be able to subdue them. Not kill them, he still couldn't kill the innocent. It makes his skin crawl.

He had been shocked, most of all, by Lance's boldness. How in the world had he been recognized so easily? How easily the tingle of hope in his chest started to fester. He had always been most attached to Lance. Lance gave him attention, even if it made him blush. He didn't cower from him, sought him out after missions to keep him company in uncharacteristic quiet. He had called him Keith. Didn't even raise his bayard at him. Moreover, he'd shot them at Pidge and Hunk. To keep them from killing him.

Now he was crawled out of the bunker and sitting against the closed door, Lance at his side with gentle and pestering hands at the wound on his head from Hunk. Hunk, who now still sat where he did when he woke up. Who watched them with worry, with what Keith didn't know. He would look away when their eyes met. Remorse flitted across his face. Lance very carefully cleaned the blood out of his matted hair, pausing if Keith hissed in pain or gave a warning growl.

It was quiet. Too quiet. More quiet than when he and Lance spent time in Red's cockpit, just enjoying the ambiance of their presence. It was almost suffocating.

Finally finished, Lance heaves a sigh and out of nowhere, despite Keith tensing and about to throw Lance to the side for getting too close, said stupid guy hugs him. Tight. Lance's warmth seeped into his body like he was a leech and without his permission, his body relaxed.

"Keith, I'm so glad you're alright." He murmurs, words an echo of the night Keith got out of the pod.

Keith was so confused. They left him. They didn't need him. But from what he heard from Red, a very, very comforting presence, she had stuck true to her word. She hadn't let a single person near, sans Lance. Lance earned her trust. So, by extension, he could trust him too. Except..

Keith bites his lip.

"It's Krychek."

Lance moves a little back, a small frown on his lips.

"Did you choose that name yourself? Because I refuse to believe some aliens named you after a human conspirator from X-Files." He says seriously, but his voice was also joking. Hunk held his breath, confused.

Keith furrows his brows, also confused but vaguely remembering that show. He didn't grace Lance with an answer. He shrugs and sets a tupperware of blue goo in his lap. Keith raises a brow and stares at it skeptically.

Lance sighs and takes the spork, and takes a bite. "S'not poisoned." He says, giving the spork back like he hadn't just gotten his cooties all over the spork. Keith looked at it with distaste. Ignoring how Hunk just watched them curiously, relaxing the more he wasn't being mauled by a Galra.

He lifts the goo to his mouth and his eyes glaze over, far away again.

This wasn't real.

Keith was Krychek now. Galra soldier, Galra Druid. Galra.

This was a dream. A beautiful dream he wishes to have. He must have somehow remembered Lance's heat that he had long since forgotten. Goo Hunk engineered to taste like a piece of home.

There were voices at the intercom again. Allura, Keith recognizes and tenses, ready to fight and flee. Lance puts an arm on his shoulder.

"Blue and Red won't let anything happen to you." He promises, implying he, too, will protect him.

Next the voice was Shiro. Frantic and worried. For Lance. Lance glared at the control and yells back a scathing remark from his seat next to Keith. Pressed up against Keith's side and a protective arm around his shoulders. He didn't feel the need to get up and have a normal conversation in a normal tone.

"Hunk's in here too and no one is dead. No one is going to die so why don't you shut your goddamn quiznak." Keith could feel his irritation roll off him, but aimed at his teammates. It was making him dizzy that Lance was on his side. Hadn't he left with the others last time?

Lance glances to Keith to study his blank face. But seems to know anyway as he leans down to talk quietly.

"I didn't know.. I thought you had been in Red when we jumped." He murmurs, ignoring the banging on the barrier. "But then.. You weren't.. I never stopped looking for you."

And Keith knew he was telling the truth. Because of his actions. His manners. Because Red sent him pictures in short bursts of Lance. Lance trying to find him, Lance telling Red about how they were probably so close. And they were. Keith was right under their nose. A Galra super soldier- super druid. Or something.

Keith allows himself to sigh a breath of relief and relax a margin. Blue really was not letting anyone else in besides Hunk. He had a feeling it was because Lance trusted Hunk. Somehow his who-to-trust connection seems to be regrowing rather quickly. Keith trusts Red. Red trusts Blue and Lance, he can trust them too. Lance trusts Hunk, he can trust Hunk too.

The others have not been given the same privilege. But, for all its worth, Keith trusts the other lions as well. They cannot hole themselves up like Red did. It was a drastic measure and it worked. The other three needed to keep defending, despite the wish to find Keith as well.

Lance was always on his side, wasn't he?

Silence came. Hunk gets up, pausing when he sees Keith coil up, and slowly gets out of Blue to see if everyone truly left.

They did.

"Ready to see Red, Keith?" Lance smiles, tired, but oh, so, so happy. Keith forgets to correct him that his name was Krychek. He'd been saying it so often, like he was trying to get him to get used to his name again. His paladin name. Keith nods, standing with Lance's help and stays close as they exit.

Walking feels weird. Lance is a head taller than him now. He could float now, feet barely touching the ground but he felt so exhausted. The headache did not help. Hunk stood by the barrier, watching them and sneaking glances around just to make sure.

There Red was, across the hanger. Shield up. Always. She purrs gently. And Keith struggles to keep his face normal.

He wasn't very worried about the others attacking. Even together, he had enough power to stop them all with a powerful burst of magic. Blue let down her particle barrier and Lance escorted Keith to Red's shield. Halfway through, someone cleared their throat. The couple turned and looked at Matt.

Matt. He had found him. Saved him. Keith couldn't sense anyone else, so he must be alone. He seemed frightened, seeing the very drastic change from his savior and the savior now. He rings his hands together. His left leg is Galra tech, something Keith hadn't notice upon releasing him from prison. Matt didn't seem to know what to do, so Lance turns Keith back to Red and crosses the hanger to her shield. And it went down the second he was a foot away. No weird pleading, bargaining, or threats. Keith didn't see Matt's or Hunk's expressions. But Lance did, giving a grin over his shoulder as he watches the shock and disbelief settle on their faces.

Lance trusts Keith, he does. But he does not leave him alone in Red. When he needed to go, he escorts him back to Blue and he rests in his bunker. Smelling of ocean breeze and Hawaiian flowers. Lance says it's for his protection.. And then a second time of aggravated asking, Lance sheepishly said it was because he was afraid Keith would take Red and run away. Because then not only does he lose the Red lion, he loses Keith.

So, next time when Lance drags him from Red, he goes willingly with Red's purrs encouraging to attach himself to the Blue Paladin. Red sends her blessing. She trusts Lance and Blue wholeheartedly. And even trusts Keith, Galra super druid and all, despite all he's done.

They took some time off to try and get Keith out. It never worked, of course. They were careful when switching Lions. Hunk being a very good wing-man as he brought them food and water and juice at odd hours of the day.

Lance hums, scarfing down his food goo, another blue, dark blue. The new flavor was pomegranate.

"You know, want to take a walk? I bet you'd like to stretch your legs more than just walking to and from Blue to Red." Keith paused in eating his goo. He was nearly always silent and he stares at Lance uncertainty. Is that a good idea? his expression said. "If the others have a problem they can suck it." He shrugs and stands, stretching.

And that was how Keith found himself by Lance's side, walking down a familiar hallway. Blue let down her shield when they left, Red still kept hers up. She still didn't trust Allura. That was okay. Keith didn't either.

Allura, Shiro, and Pidge. Coran was not someone he had qualms with.. At least he hoped not. Lance talks about him with fondness. But those three, he definitely did not trust.

Allura, who left him stranded on ship and took Red away. Pidge, who knocked him down despite him helping save Matt. Despite everything he sacrificed for their well-being. And Shiro, whose voice was as sharp as Allura's on the intercom. They'd been friends for years. Shiro's parents were practically like his second parents. Guess that wasn't enough to overlook some genetic traits.

Lance takes him to the common room, uncaring of the two siblings that freeze at their presence. Pidge and Matt sat on the couch, staring in their direction. Pidge in fear, hand grappling for their bayard as they readied for a fight. Lance ignores them and swerves Keith toward the kitchen across the way.

"You should try some of Hunk's new flavors. They're outrageous." He talks like nothing is wrong. Like he doesn't have a Galra druid under his arm, leading to the kitchen. "He's gotten real good at mimicking flavors from earth. He should go into flavor making when we get back, you know?"

Shiro comes through the door and freezes. Next thing he was doing was charging at Keith. Keith blinks slow, and raises his arm, and then Shiro was suspended in the air. Lance pauses in his talking as he watching Shiro struggle against the invisible hold. He doesn't even try to get Keith to stop. Just watched. Pidge is horrified.

"Lance! Are you just going to watch him kill Shiro?!" Lance looks to them, looking rather unamused.

"Shiro charged first. Look, he's not even being choked." He points with his free hand as he watches Shiro slowly stop struggling, taking in all of Keith. The druid robes still draping his lithe body. Lance pats his shoulder in a silent request and he drops the magic. Shiro falls, unable to regain his footing. Lance turns him back to the containers of different colored goo. Talking like there was nothing exchanged between them and the others.

Shiro stays a ways away. At the other side of the room. Pidge inching towards him while Matt is contemplatively watching him. He knows Allura had been hailed when she bursts through the sliding doors minutes later, wearing her battle suit. She stills, eyes on Keith and it's like a showdown when Keith turns around to stare back. Lance trails off to stare at her too, face empty of expression. Keith's brows come together and his eyes glare. He feels his anger flair for a brief moment.

"If you were still on our side, you wouldn't have taken those what we had tried so hard to liberate." Allura speaks, voice clipped and cold. Lance feels Keith tense and he hisses lowly.

"You left me." He emphasizes. "Not the other way around. Did you want them to kill me instead?" He says, voice equally cold and unyielding. Lance sees the others flinch. Keith's voice was harsh from misuse. "Keep your stupid Voltron secrets safe? You might as well install a bomb in their heads to explode when they get captured." He says calmly, watching her as her hands clenched and unclenched at her side. "It would be easier to control your throwaway soldiers."

"Paladins are not throwaway-"

"Really? Because I seem to recall you trying to find a paladin for Red a week after you left me for dead." Keith didn't let her finish, cutting her with his final tone. She tensed, then glares at Lance. "Red told me." He adds, not liking Lance being blamed. But Lance was also glaring holes into her perfect, pretty face.

"You were a monster! You killed without hesitation!"

"I protected you." He hisses, feels the magic leave his fingertips. Lance hugs him closed, to prevent him from hitting the others or to comfort him, he didn't know. He heaves a deep breath, unaware how his marks and his eyes started to glimmer a faint purple. "I kept you from killing. You're fighting a war, Princess," he says mockingly. "Did you think there will not be casualties? Did you think all your precious toy soldiers would come out unscathed and still gleam with innocence?"

"You're living a dream princess." He hisses the title with venom in his voice, watches as Pidge flinches and stares at their feet. "A stupid fucking unrealistic dream I tried so, so, fucking hard to make come true." He growls, a pulsing wave of energy lapping around them. Moving things not bolted down. "One broken toy soldier was better than all, right? And what did you do?" He breathes in a breath and exhales. "You left me."

And boy, wasn't that the truth.

Lance packed some food and left with Keith in tow, still having his stare down with a miffed princess with guilty paladins and company staring at their feet. He takes Keith to Red after a stop by the showers and their rooms.

They got clean, got fresh clothes, and holed up in Red's bunker after eating dinner. Lance didn't want to leave Keith, and Keith would rather not be alone with the bitter truth he spat out. Red purrs, familiar and comforting, roll over his mind like crashing waves.

Keith was wearing Lance's clothes, and they hung off his frame like a coat hanger. But his scent was calming. His body providing much welcomed heat to his own cold body. He often forgets how cold quintessence is. How cold his magic leaves him, cold and stiff to where he can barely curl his hands into a fist. Lance flinches when he nudges into one of many bruises on his body. Lance never bothered to go into a healing pod. Keith purses his lips, and sighs.

"Idiot.." He mutters, touching gentle but chilled fingertips to bruised, naked skin when he lifted the shirt and breaths. This wasn't the first time he does this. But this was the first time doing it to someone important. He couldn't send too much, or else it'll hurt him, make him sick.

Lance is quiet, blush on his cheeks as he watches Keith curiously. Sees the marks and his eyes glow with magic. Red told him not to be scared, but he couldn't help the skip in his heart. Then he blinks, eyes widen at the tingling in his body. Like weird, tiny, electric impulses throughout his body. When Keith was done he huffed, and closed his eyes. Lance sits up and raises his shirt to see- his bruises were gone. Completely. He pokes his ribs and- nothing. Slightly ticklish, but no pain.

"Oh, my god.." he murmurs, wide eyes to Keith. But he was already asleep.

A couple days later, Keith was once again bartered out of the safety of the lions and to the commons room. He didn't really mind, though, as he was laid down with his head on Lance's lap with the former petting his head and massaging his scalp. So he couldn't really complain about how it might lead to another unfortunate encounter.

Keith was practically half asleep, letting out short puffs of breath that rumbled in his chest when Lance scratched just behind his lower ear and practically melted against the couch in the most relaxed way. It had been way before they had started this journey when he last felt this relaxed.

Lance was having a hay day, grin stretched out his lips as he watching with rapt attention the way Keith lifts his head up to get him to scratch under his chin where it met his neck. There was an interesting rumble from his chest- fucking purring! Man, had this happened before, this would be perfect blackmail material. But as it is, he's not cruel enough to slip back into his old attitude when Keith had gone through so much.

Lance looks up as Hunk enters, Matt trailing behind him. They quiet their conversation when they see him, finger to his lips in a quiet hushing gesture then points down at the sleeping Galra druid, still donned in Lance's clothes.

Lance sends a grin their way. It felt good to do what no one else could.

Hunk and Matt make their way over quietly, sitting down on the other side of the rounded couch. They exchange looks, Matt a bit apprehensive. But after a few ticks of Lance scratching and massaging Keith's head, the purrs grew louder and his chest heaves up and down in short bursts with the motor bike sound. Keith turns, hiding his face in Lance's lap so he touch reach the other ear.

Matt's apprehension was long gone, now. He was watching, amused and elated at how human the Galra was. Well, not human. But cat-like. And he loved cats. Very much. So they sit and they watch and they listen to the rumble hitch every once in awhile.

Lance hums, curious as he sees the long marks on his cheeks glimmer. Trick of the eye, possibly, but he didn't really care. He stops his scratches to gently run a thumb over the very top under his eye. Keith's purrs hitched again and they quiet down, practically melting further into his lap. Gosh, so dang adorable. He hears Hunk coo and say something teasingly, whispering with Matt. Lance ignores them in favor of gliding his fingertips gingerly across the marks.

There was a weird mmmrrh sound, and they froze, looked at each other, then Hunk and Matt slapped their hands over their mouths to keep from bursting out laughing, lest they wake their sleeping kitten. Lance bit his lip, trying to do the same. But all good things must come to an end as the men across them couldn't hold in the snickers and giggles, and they burst out laughing loudly.

Loudly enough for Keith to make the same mmmrhh? noise as he jolts into a sitting position, looking around. His eyes land on them, but instead of feeling threatened, he just felt tired, sluggish, and would rather return back to the lap he laid in than to find out what they were laughing about. Lance stifles a laugh, gulping down his glee.

"Good morning, kitty cat. Sleep well?" He couldn't keep the teasing out of his voice and when Keith turns around to face him, he sees the mess of dark hair mussed from all the toying and his expression blissed out. He blinks his golden orbs once, twice, before stretching and then plopping his head right back into his lap without a single response. Lance blushes as the other two laugh harder, falling off the couch and slapping their thighs in unison. Matt wheezing out something along the lines of camera, camera!

Lance ignores them again, gently threading his fingers through Keith's luscious mane. He takes a breath, and sighs.

After Hunk and Matt worked out the giggles from their system, they could barely speak, let alone form coherent sentences. Keith stayed asleep until Coran walks through the door, loud and cheerful. It jars him up, tensing his muscles as he jumps into a seated, defensive position. Coran yelps in surprise and does the same. Only when the three of them hush them both did they slowly, very slowly, uncoil the tension in their muscles. Keith plops back on the couch, somehow feeling more rested than he's ever felt. Could feel the magic at his fingertips and energy thrum through very veins.

Matt animatedly trying to retell Keith's pleasant purrs and how they sounded like a cats. Tries to recreate the weird mmrrrh noise but failing, Hunk doing the same. Lance and Keith both watch them, Lance snickers into his first as Keith seems to be getting more confused by the second. Still blinking away the sleep in his eyes and the fuzz in his head. He yawns, mouth stretching wide and Lance's eyes dart to him, staring at the ridiculously sharp teeth. All fangs, except for a couple pairs of molars at the very back. Lance should be scared, because those fangs could rip him apart in seconds. But he can't help but think how cute they were. The way his mouth stretches out in a yawn, how he stretches his arms in tandem, fingers fanned out and claws scratching at his clothed knees. His ears press back and bounce up once he's done, stretching his neck side to side.

Lance takes this as a win. Hunk, now Matt, and now Coran, were brought over to the 'dark side'. Dark Side, meaning, the side that trusts Keith despite his sharp claws, fangs, purple skin and jagged marks on his cheeks. That was more than half of the people and sentient beings on the ship. If he counts the Lions, that was nine people/sentient beings on Keith's side. Now, if he could just get the other three people and mice...

Alarms-

Galra. Well, they hid as long as they could. Allura's voice rang out over the speakers.

"Get to your Lions."

Lance looks to Keith. Seconds later they were wide awake and running to the hangers. Silently, Keith agrees to get in Blue with Lance. He doesn't trust someone to 'accidentally' immobilize himself and Red. At least with Lance, there was a chance the others will hesitate to take him down. So they stop by Red to pick up his bayard (he was able to keep it all this time) and then jumped into Blue's open jaw. Lance changes into his battle suit quickly, and takes his seat. Somehow, Keith is back in his druid garbs, though tattered and singed at the ends, over his clothes. His hood is down, and he stands behind Lance while he holds the head rest.

Lance takes a breath deep breath, hears Keith mimicking him, and exhales as he shoots out to fight. The video camera blips up on the dashboard and Allura gasps, eyes hardening when she sees Keith. Lance stares forward, starting to engage Galra battle drones.

For the sake of the mission, they don't say a word, but don't bother to hide the distrust of the person behind him. But Keith wasn't paying attention to them. He was looking out past the faces on the screen to the battle. He grips the headrest harshly and swipes his free hand out, an oncoming ship careens to the side. Lance grins, charging forward. He wasn't nearly as reckless as before, with Keith back at his side to take his place. Keith leans forward, whispering in his ear.

"That ship has harvested raw quintessence." He murmurs. "It's useful."

Keith doesn't say how or why it is useful, or for who. But Lance nods anyway. "Want to go in and get a crate full of them?" Keith nods. It was better than it being in the hands of enemy Galra, even though he was still technically enemy Galra. Lance trusts him, wants him. And for now, that was enough.

"Lance, what are you doing? Don't break formation!" Shiro scolds as Lance charges Blue down and under the oncoming fleet.

"We're going on a field trip to get some whachamacallitz-"

"Quintessence."

"-yeah, that stuff. We'll be back in a jiffy."

"Lance," a warning tone from Shiro.

"We'll be fine." He huffs indignantly. "Stop being such a worry wart. We'll get in, get the goods, get out and destroy the ship on the way out. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Bye, Felicia." He song sang the last part and turns off the coms, hearing the snicker of Hunk's laugh right before it disconnected. Lance grins as he charges Blue up to the flank of the ship and breaks the side. Within seconds, Lance bolts out of Blue's maw and onto oncoming sentries from the hall. Shooting shot after shot. There was nearly too many for himself alone.

Then Keith was at his side and with a flick of a wrist, eyes glowing faintly purple in his use of magic, the sentries fall, sparks flying from their heads with wiring that had been severed without touching it. Lance stares, wide-eyed, at Keith. A tick later, he's got Keith in a bear hug. Gone as quick as it came. "That was awesome!" Keith was left with the fleeting heat.

Shaking his head, he glides his way back to Lance's side, passing him on the way to lead to the storage compartment of the ship. Lance kept most of his cover as he opens doors with practiced ease. Galra were thinning. Keith opens the last door. The room filled with shelves of small, glowing, purple liquid vials. There was no box to carry them in, and Keith purses his lips. Hesitant about where to store them. Lance grabs a nearby sack and starts storing one after another almost haphazardly that Keith hisses at him.

"Don't handle it so roughly!" He takes the sack and the jar in Lance's hand with surprising gentleness, like the glass wasn't three inches thick all around, and continues to set jar after jar into the sack until it was full. There was some bangs as the ship took fire and Keith looks back at Lance to signal this is as many as they need. For now. Lance ran back the way they came. Keith floats, feet sliding two inches above the floor to not disturb the mysterious liquid.

"Lance! Get out of there quickly! There is a large heat signature coming from the planet on your left, aiming for you." Allura's voice was a whisper by Keith's ears, coming from Lance's helmet.

"Roger that."

"I think it's best if we retreat for now- the Galra seem to be gaining ground. They might have a base on that planet." Hunk chimes in skeptically.

"I'm worried about the heat signature." Pidge. Keith purses his lip. He does feel a weird strain of energy.

"It's a robobeast." Keith states once they're back in the cockpit, being brightened by the gentle blue light. He looks at the map, at the heat signature Allura told of. It was unmistakable. The surge of power, tingling his skin. And it's a powerful one, too. He pats Lance on the shoulder after he stows the sack in his bunker. "Let's go. Fall back."

Lance gives him a quick glance and a curt nod, listening more to Keith's orders more than he listened to Shiro or Allura about the dangers. Keith shuts his eyes. Focus. That thing can survive in zero gravity, if the Galra were sending it out of the atmosphere instead of herding them onto the planet.

"Let the others go through first... Precaution." He mumbles when Lance gives him a look. Keith looks back out to the screen where Lance blasted drone ships with his ice ray. He catches Green at the top left of the screen, sighing softly seeing her be the last one to jump through the wormhole Allura opened.

"Pidge, look out!" Lance cries out, and Keith's eyes widen as he catches the beam of energy shot at them. It was bright, bright, blue, and it hit Green right in the back, sending them hurling through the wormhole. Lance at their heels as he banked right to avoid another ray, Keith held onto the headrest hard as he was nearly thrown down by the force.

The portal closed behind them, Keith didn't look back at how close the robobeast had gotten to them before it shut.

"Pidge! Pidge, can you hear us?" Lance keeps trying to link their communicators. It wasn't working. The Green Lion was near in shambles, and there is no doubt in Keith's mind that Pidge was out cold, severely wounded if not fatally. His blood ran cold through his veins. Lance bites his lip and curses under his breath, flying close enough to gently bite at the lion's scruff of the neck and drag her to the castle hangars. As Lance touched down, Keith slid over to the bunker to grab a jar of quintessence and hid it in his robes.

Lance jumped out quickly and Keith follows, gliding an inch above the floor, hood down. Hunk had come running the second he heard them fly in. And then both of them were forcing Green's mouth open and climbing in to rescue their friend. Keith waits outside patiently, nervous and anxious. It's not like he wanted her dead.. he really doesn't.. He just wants their old team dynamics back. The old very first, before they all got separated and he was forced to recognize how ugly he really way. How tainted and sullen.

Keith bites his lip, feet on the ground now, as he watches Hunk carry out Pidge in his arms, mangled and bloody. And Christ they did not look good. He hears a gasp to his left and he watches as Shiro comes jogging closer, pausing only to spare a glance to Keith.

"They're not responding," Hunk says, careful to keep Pidge's head from lolling too much.

"We need to get them to the pod." Shiro says, by Hunk's side now. Lance joins them with a nod.

"Give them to me," Keith says quietly, calmly. All three pairs of eyes turn to stare at him. Shiro's turn into glares.

"We don't have time for games right now."

"It's not a game." Keith says, sitting down with his legs tucked under him, the robes spilling to the sides. "Lay them down here." He pats the space in front of himself. Hunk was hesitant, Shiro nearly yelling to get them to the pod. But, Keith knew. He felt it. The spilling of their essence. From their mind, body. It was oozing out, thick like honey. "They won't make it to the pod. I can do it." He reaches into the sleeves to pull out the jar he stashed. "Quickly," Keith says, but strangely there was no urgency in his voice. It was calm, focused. He needed to focus, at least a medium noise level or less. No screaming.

Hunk lays them down slowly, taking steps back. Lance kept Shiro back from charging, mumbling quietly that Keith knew what he was doing. Keith could help, but Shiro didn't want to listen.

Keith breathes in, then out, the jar laying on its side as he looks down at Pidge, surveying the damage. Head wound, many lacerations he could sense. Another breath, he cuts an opening in the thick glass with ease, slow and deliberate. Or he thought it was slow, but truthfully, anytime he played around this magic or quintessence his time perception slowed. His palms had a thin layer of the slick substance and he touches them to Pidge's body, one at the bottom of their sternum and the second on their stomach.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He closes his eyes, feeling the energy course through them. It was pulsing, alive, and very real. He could practically grasp at her essence and stop the oozing of it from her "self". Focus. Block out the new voices, the screams he hears. Don't bother identifying them. Heat spreads through his body, tingles just under the epidermis.

The chatter was white noise, his attention was on spreading the quintessence and gluing the openings shut. Lucky, lucky, paladin. He thinks briefly, not seeing anything bleeding deeper in their body. Just flesh wounds and a very bad head injury. His hands dip into the liquid again, somehow half gone already.

The noise was quiet. He had complete, blissful silence. It didn't take long for him to finish, hand moving to hover over the weakened heart rate. He gives a slight push at the chest and it picks up, being shocked to respond.

Pidge gasps and coughs, wet, but otherwise very alive as Keith brings his hands to his lap. He takes another breath before his vision refocuses, and he looks down at Pidge. They stare at each other for a while until Matt was by her side in seconds, scooping her up. There was a cry of alarm from her and a few others. Lance was by his side, sitting down to watch as Pidge blinks, unfocused, then tenses. They look over their body- their suit and hair were matted with blood, but, they pause as they look at their lion, then back at their clothes, they were okay.

They look stunned, short of a miracle. Lance only grins smugly at his right, offering a shoulder to lean on when he notices the fatigue marring his features.

"How.. How did you do that?" Shiro spoke, hesitantly stepping closer but still more than an arm lengths away. Keith blinks slowly, allowing his breath to fill his lungs before answering.

"Quintessence if the life blood of all beings."

It was very cryptic, and really, the lifeblood of all things was, you know, blood. But Keith didn't feel up to explaining how he did what he did. He hadn't done that in a while, and he leans on Lance fully for support. Lance wraps an arm around his shoulder and kisses his head, helping to stand when it was obvious Keith needed to rest.

That night, Keith had slept in an actual bed for the first time in months. Or, more like, his first time sleeping in the castle beds in months. Lance had made them take a hot, quick shower and dressed him in his clothes, before tucking them in. Keith heaved a sigh when he was all wrapped up. Wrapped up in heat, in warmth, in Lance.

It will end, it always does.

Keith wills that thought away, and any other whispers that plague his mind.

Keith doesn't wake up by alarm, or by person. He woke up a finite amount of time later, feeling the most rested he's ever been. Even with closed eyes, he knows Lance is playing with the strands of his hair at the base of his neck. Gentle, he notes. Lance was so gentle with him, a stark contrast from how their relationship had started. With harsh words and harsher tones, biting remarks. Lance still teases him, but the malice in his tone is long gone.

Heat, budding from his chest to his extremities. Calloused fingers on his cheeks, and his breath hitches as he feels them run over the marks. His heart skips. His eyes flutter open, landing on Lance's face and the complete look of adoration. Keith could feel his cheeks reddening from having such an expression aimed at him. Lance's attention was one thing, Lance's affection was another.

Lance smiles when he notices Keith is awake, doing one more swipe of his thumb against the tops of his marks and he shudders. Pleasure rolls through him in waves, the tingle on his skin back.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Keith couldn't help but smile back, nudging his face into the palm that held it. The touches to his deformed marks were making him feel things, really weird yet good things. Like he had no more center of gravity, like he was high. Floating higher when there was a fourth stroke.

"Lance.." Keith murmurs out, letting out a shuddering breath as his toes and fingers tingled with the new sensation. The heat starts to build up in his chest, where Lance touched. He forgot the world, his reclaimed mission of defending the universe. His eyes have long since fluttered closed. Lance stops his stroking and Keith wishes he would start again. The tingling numbness was starting to make it's escape again. When had he felt such a thing before?

"I bet you're hungry." Lance says as he gets up and stretches. Keith opens his eyes to follow his movement lazily. He blows strands of hair out of his face, already seeing a few strands go as white as fresh linen sheets.

Keith makes a noise of non-commitment before he is pulled from his spot.

Breakfast is interesting, to say the least. The others are at the table when they step into the room. Their chats do quiet, as they usually do when Keith enters any vicinity where those on the non-Keith side are present. He doesn't bother to glance at them, too busy holding onto the fleeting warmth of Lance's body when they brush by and keeps a leg firmly against Lance when they sit at the two seats left.

Pidge kept giving them glances, awkward and unsure. Guilty and remorseful, but very, very, hopeful.

"So, are you like a white mage now?" Matt asks, ever the ice breaker of the group, next to Hunk of course.

"White mage...?" Keith questions, looking to Lance for answers as he shovels goo into his mouth. When he was not provided with any help, he turns back to Matt.

"Yeah, you can, like, heal people and stuff?" Keith pauses, pursing his lips.

"I... Suppose so.." He says, unsure of what he was really talking about. "I am a druid. It is necessary know-how to control where quintessence goes."

"Then, can you heal everything?" Matt asks, hopeful. Keith raises a brow, looking at him. He'd remembered the Galra tech leg.

"I cannot regrow limbs, if that is what you're asking." He says slowly, watching as Matt's expression falls just slightly. "But I can heal immediate wounds and injuries.. And scars." He added as an afterthought. He had the group's attention.

"You can heal scars?" Lance asks, then sighs. "Why didn't you say so before? I would have asked you to heal the one on my face when I first saw you." He pouts, turning to him. He only had a few on his scars on his face. The most notable was a line that ran from his left ear, across his cheek, and down to his chin. Wild animal on some planet, apparently. He had few others, they were noticeable against his dark skin, and they all had a front row seat to see those marks disappear. Except that largest one.

In Pidge, gone was the apprehension and fear. And they had followed Lance and Keith out when they finished the food to give the most awkward but sincere apology he had heard out of Pidge. The feelings they went through when they saw Keith, Galra Keith, with Matt. It was rationalized at the time, but they saw how badly they reacted. Pidge was near tears at the end. Months wasted, all this time. They could have been together if they kept their mind open and accepting.

A flutter in his chest and Keith's lips twitch slightly. Slowly, he moved to put an arm around themin a hug. Pidge tensed before hugging back, hard. They were half a head taller than him now. Throughout all his years, he didn't think he would miss the heat of another person so much as he craves it now.

Blue's bunker was bigger than Red's. It was long, long enough to have enough space for Lance to fit comfortably and an added foot to the length and width. So they fit in the bunker together quite easily side by side. Though, at the moment they were more laying on each other than side to side. Keith on his back, Lance over him, half his body laid atop of Keith, pressing him gently into the plush mattress. It was cool in the bunker, despite how much heat Lance's body emitted.

And right now, Keith was literally melting from it. Melting from the touches Lance has decided to grace him with. Touches to his face, fingers fanned against his cheeks. Strokes against his marks that leave him tingly and euphoric. A mrrrh escapes his mouth and he couldn't even feel embarrassed when Lance coos and teases when he swipes his thumb lovingly across his cheek.

Keith's hands are resting against Lance's shoulders, playing with the fringes of his shirt collar, dipping his fingers under the cloth to feel to the heat more. His hands trail up his neck and to the scar. He feels magic tingle his fingers as he takes a deep breath, getting the edge of the scar before Lance's hand wraps around his wrist and pulls his hand away from the scar.

"Don't." He says, voice soft yet with a hint of urgency. It made Keith confused. Lance had always been about how flawless his face looks. He healed all the other bits of marred flesh on his face and neck, why not this one?

"Why?" Keith whispers back. Their tones were so intimate, he was almost overwhelmed. Lance's lips quirk into a radiant smile, full of pride and joy. He leans in closer, whispering against Keith's lips.

"Because I'm proud of them.."

"... Why?"

"I got them trying to find you."

Keith blinks, eyes wide. His heart thudded against his chest.

"I never stopped looking for you. Not once."

Keith's lips trembled, feeling the heat from Lance's breath mingle with his.

"Now I'm never letting go."

When Lance finally closed the last centimeter separating their lips, Keith closes his eyes and feels his magic run through his veins. Feels Lance's heat seeps down, down, down into his body, straight into his bones. The small wound up tension he had in his body had left him, despite the sudden nervousness and the rapid beating of his heart.

Lance pulls away. Keith's eyes open, blink once, before Lance's lips are back on his. Gentle and sweet, replacing his veins with that euphoria. He hums into the kisses, getting a barrage of them each half minute or so. Keith slides his hands up and over his shoulders to roam the expanse of his back, smoothing out muscles in his wide shoulders.

A sigh escapes Keith's lips as Lance strokes his marks with his next kiss and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue across the inside of his mouth. Keith's body shuddered at the new sensation, taking a few ticks to get used to another wet tongue against his own before hesitantly reciprocating.

Lance never rushed him into a quicker, deeper, rougher kiss. It stayed slow, languid, even if it did get intimate. The lazy kisses got sloppy, and Lance pulled up. Soft panting filled the small space, now heated with Lance's rise in temperature. Keith didn't let him go too far, sharp nails skimming against Lance's head in a pleasurable way. Lance's eyes were half lidded, goofy, content smile on his lips. Keith couldn't help but give him the same look.

Safe.

Away from prying eyes, the thoughts he heard pushed far, far away. Lance didn't think of him as some monster, wasn't afraid of him. Didn't ever think of some blood-crazed soldier. Didn't think he was replaceable, if all those scars Lance got looking for him were anything to go by.

Keith slides his hands up Lance's side, careful of his talons even though Lance didn't seem to mind. He moves his arms up for Keith to pull his shirt up and over, depositing somewhere at the foot of the bunker. His fingers trace old scars. Lance proudly talks about the ones he's gotten when he was trying to find him. Tells him the stories, and Keith bites his lip gently when he listens to the melodious way the talks. How, when Lance was on Vrrilnm, Keith was two planets and an asteroid belt away on the tiny moon of a planet for supplies.

They were always so close, so close, and yet by the time Voltron came to Ymmtil, Keith was already gone. Keith tells him so, remembers vividly the planets he's been to, the missions he's taken on.

When Lance's hand slide to his hips and starts slowly, achingly slowly, bunch the shirt he wore upwards, he froze. Lance pauses, waiting for a sign. Keith takes a breath, relaxes, and lets the heat consume him. Lance's fingers leave trails of flames against his purple skin, hiking the shirt up and up until he had to twist a little for him to fully pull it off.

Chest to chest, Lance gives him another chaste kiss against his lips and pets his head, doing nothing but letting him acclimatize to the new sensations. When he deemed Keith as pliant as before, he started tracing down his body. Down the fine lines of scars Keith never bothered to heal when he could. Old and new, but many were from before he became the most powerful weapon. Before, when people could get close enough to kill him without being maimed in a tick.

"I'm so sorry we left you." Lance whispers. Keith takes up looking at the interesting contrast between his Galran shade and Lance's gorgeous brown. As if Lance would have left him if given the choice, he knows. He smiles and his thumb rubs over a thick scar on his shoulder. Lance follows the movement in the corner of his eye. Lance had gotten that one from a particular Galra officer at one of the main battle ships when, after three months of not finding Keith, he started getting as brash and reckless as him. Lance tried to wrestle away a particular device that could potentially give him Keith's whereabouts and hadn't noticed another officer coming up behind him until it was too late.

"It's all in the past now." He says, like it was meant to be profound. But, it wasn't like he could control time and he doesn't know if he would want to go through the same heart ache if he hadn't managed to do something different. Lance gives him a slight grin.

"Well, at least you have cool healing powers now, right?" Keith huffs out a breath and nods.

"You can call it that, yes."

"Then, what is it really?"

"What's what really?"

A pause. Lance looks at him. Stares, really.

"That made absolutely no sense, but whatever. I mean, not whatever whatever but uhhh.. Okay, rewind." He pauses when he sees Keith give the most confused, and maybe hurt, face. "I meant, that thing you do with the quinte-stuff, what is it called? How do you do it? How do you heal? You told Shiro some cryptic 'its life blood' and shit, but, care to elaborate?"

Lance was babbling, and Keith had a hard time keeping up. But after a beat or two of silence, he hums, and nods.

"I hadn't meant that literally.. just partially. Quintessence is the very being of life, on a different plane of existence. You have it, I have it, it is one of the fundamental building blocks of life. A planet sucked of its quintessence is nothing but a useless rock.. Like Mars." Lance whines.

"Why do you have to be so mean to Mars? What'd they ever do to you?" Lance pouts, it was playful banter. "S'not like it's Pluto, at least Mars had potential at being colonized."

Keith drops his jaw.

"Take that back! Pluto has a heart on it's surface!" He couldn't believe how offended he felt at a tiny dwarf planet being disrespected. Keith couldn't believe a lot of things right now.

How he was here, with Lance, with his team by extension. How they were comfortable together. How they bickered nonsensically and how that just felt right. Keith hadn't laughed in ages.

Lance laughs, shoulders shaking.

"Of course you were that one person who voted Pluto back into being a planet."

"If Jupiter classified as a planet while breaking a rule of the classifications of what it means to be a planet, Pluto can to." Keith pouts, ears flat to their sides. Lance massages their base and Keith relaxes, Lance's easy smile calming him down.

"Alright, Pluto is a wonderful, tiny, adorable planet." A moment of silence, and Lance nudges their noses for an Eskimo kiss. "Keep going?"

Keith nods, had thought that he meant with the touches, but at the stillness of Lance's hands, he remembered they were having a conversation before their bickering distracted him.

"Right..." He mumbles, embarrassed. "As a druid, I can control that essence. Because essence is kind of like mass, it can only be transformed, and never destroyed. It can be used for many things. Creation, for example. Without knowing, many people have the help of quintessence to create their offspring. Healing is just one other thing you can do."

"But how, specifically, do you do it?" Keith pauses as he thinks. Though he thinks while he does it, he doesn't really... think about the process.

"I re-purpose quintessence around me. Like these scars... When I heal them, I just use my own essence to exchange them, and change them."

Lance hums.

"It sounds... tiring." Keith hums back and nods.

"It does get tiring."

Lance hums and Keith mimics him until Lance nuzzles their noses together. He smiles, closes his eyes, and lets the heat lull him.

Keith thinks he should feel more bashful about the soft pleasured moans he lets past his lips as Lance rubs at the inside of his naked thigh, shorts hiked up to his groin. And he does, just a little. Because they were back in Blue's bunker and the castle was parked on a newly liberated planet for some rest and relaxation.

Then, there they were, hidden in an alcove of the very sentient war ship, being strangely intimate and unashamed that they had the feeling of not one but two sentient beings in their heads.

Despite Red being back at her hangar, shield down for the first time since Keith was gone, he could still hear the rumble of her purr, and knows Lance can too when he chuckles against his neck at the very teasing remark she gave. Suddenly Keith was very glad the other lions were out with their paladins. He didn't need three more sentient beings being privy to their private life, nor did he need them broadcasting it to their paladins.

Keith shudders as Lance's hot breath ghosts over his ear. It twitches a moment, flicking as Lance nibbles on the cartilage. Another shiver wracks his body and he carefully digs his nails into Lance's back, enjoying anything he was given, teasing and all.

Lance was shirtless, and he was determined to make Keith shirtless as well. His hands sliding up his thigh and over his hip to slide under the fabric, still a borrowed one from Lance's wardrobe. He gets rids of it quicker than that first time, Keith much more familiar with his touches now.

Keith didn't feel the need to take control, more content with being on the receiving end of Lance's love and affection, and Lance was happy to give it all.

The bottoms took a little longer to take off, more from shyness than hesitancy to what it was precursor to. Of course, if he was honest, he was nervous about that too. As far as he could tell, nothing physical was different.. But, you never know with aliens. It wasn't like Haggar and other Galra were forthcoming about what to expect.

However, he knew the way Lance touches his marks means something no one told him. Allura had walked in on Lance crowding him up against the kitchen counter one night, warm glass of tea in his hands to help induce sleep. Lance was admiring the marks, the slope of them down his cheeks. He let his eyes close to enjoy the sensation that filled him.

Upon entering, Allura gasps, and Keith's eyes open to look at her. It had been a few weeks since Pidge's healing show, and she had since started to be more friendly. But now, she only stares a moment, the way Lance's hands cup his face and thumb swipes across the baby blue. Then, her face reddens and she was pivoting on her feel as quick as she can.

Lance looked to where she high tailed it out of there then back to Keith, never once letting his hands stop their loving stroke against his marks. Soon after they forgot someone had even interrupted them.

Or, there was a time when they sat close on the couch, Lance's arm around his shoulder while his fingers stroke against his cheek. Coran had stepped in, his sentence cut short once his eyes landed on them. Pidge was by his side and he covers their eyes, turning them around. His own cheeks had a flush of red as he escorts Pidge away, saying something about 'courtship rituals' that shouldn't be 'interrupted'.

Keith had hummed, curious about what he meant of these so-called courtship rituals, before being distracted by a kiss to his mark.

All other thought was history.

So now, here he was, a quivering, moaning mess underneath the Blue Paladin. Watching, mesmerized, as Lance's hands slide up his naked skin, hips nestled between Keith's legs.

Lance's body was hot and hard against his own, arching into that heat. Lance's fingers run over his arms, run over the little tufts of fur at his elbows. Not quite Galra, nor human. Not human, at all. Altean mix. Keith should think how weird his body is, having these small patches where his hair grows more. Like at the edges of his elbows, the bottom of his neck and just under his jaw, at his ankles and wrists. Even weirder, at his waist and just slightly at the v of his groin.

"It's alright, we know you're a furry." Lance had told him, teasing laced in his voice. Keith had no idea what this furry thing was, but he surmised Lance was okay with that too, since he didn't stop pursuing him.

Even now it just seems like he's giving loving attention to everything that makes him different. Nipping at his purple flesh, marking it with dark colors. Leaving kiss marks at his collar bones, across his chest, while his fingers tease him further down.

"Ahh!"

Keith arches his chest up into waiting lips, sliding them over an erect nipple and enclosing them into the heat of his mouth. Keith shivers despite the heat seeping into his body and the warm temperature in the bunk. His claws scratch at Lance's broad back. Lance groans against his sensitive skin, bucks his hips down. It makes Keith tighten his legs around Lance's waist.

Lance huffs as he lets go of his nipple to kiss Keith, sloppy yet sensual nonetheless. The fingers inside him are still moving and the little noises Keith let's out aren't doing him any favors except making him more excited.

Lance spreads his fingers, laps up the moans Keith lets out, and takes a deep breath to calm himself. He's been raring to go since he trapped Keith in here... But if Keith's reactions were anything to go by, he's pretty enthusiastic about it too.

"Ready?" He murmurs against his lips, giving one final curl of his fingers before he pulled them out, Keith letting out a pleasured moan. Lance holds onto his hips, lines himself up, and kisses Keith deeply as he presses in. Into the heat, heat Keith doesn't usually have at the top of his skin. And it was tight. Even with the care Lance took to stretch him out.

Keith's breath staccatos and Lance pauses, whispering gentle encouragement into his ear. He relaxes, and Lance pushes in until their hips meet. Lance pauses, takes a moment to breathe, to admire Keith and his flushed face, trying to hide it in the crook of Lance's neck. He gets a chuckle for his troubles before Lance pries him out of hiding to press kisses to his lips and the rest of his face, especially the marks. Keith didn't seem to like them when they first got him back and Lance was going to show him how wonderful they were.

Lance presses open mouthed kisses to the tops of his marks, moaning when it made Keith tightened around him and pressed him closer still. Lance rocks his body back, then forward. Keith moans out, arching his back and somehow allowing him deeper inside.

Lance wraps an arm around his waist, gliding against him. Keith scratches his back and Lance feels the sting as he breaks the skin. He kisses Keith deep, uncaring of the pinpricks of blood littering his back. Keith kisses back, sighing into his mouth and pressing close, and closer, and closer. His hips are rolling down in time with Lance's upward thrusts. Building up the heat, building up the pressure.

Lance could get lost in the sounds Keith makes. From the breathy moans to the cries of more and there, right there. And especially, Lance. His name, chanted like a mantra, was music to his ears.

Lance doesn't remember how his feelings grew to this stage. He didn't get along with Keith too much, before they were separated. Then separated again. Sometime between the first separation, and the second, and then the reunion, something had changed. It wasn't that he was harboring feelings that just burst forth once Keith was gone. But, he noticed how the others rejected the idea of Keith. Of his ruthlessness. He had noticed the change, too. How the bloodshed piled up when Keith was involved.

That didn't mean to cut him from their lives while simultaneously trying to fight alongside him and form Voltron. That didn't sit right with Lance. No matter how much sense it made to the others. He'd voiced it plenty of times, anyway. Especially after the second separation. It was the 'teams' decision. A decision he didn't want to be apart of. The team lost more than just the Red Paladin when they left him in the wreckage of the Galra ship. They lost the last bit of their friend, they left a vulnerable family member alone because they couldn't believe what happened.

Despite the bad things that happened, Lance promised himself he would never let Keith feel alone again.

The emotions Red projected onto him the following months had nearly paralyzed him. The isolation, self isolation, isolation from the team, never the lions. The lions were always supportive. But still. Lance doesn't want him to feel that way ever again. Even if he only feels support from him.

So when those feelings of wanting to support turned into something more, he didn't think twice about it. He pinpoints it at the time he recognizes Keith hiding behind that four crow-eyed mask. The flooding relief surging through his veins only confirmed his feelings.

Then he kept Keith by his side at all times, or kept him locked up in Blue's bunker for rest. He was sure to give him extra attention, extra touches, extra everything. He saw the confusion flitting across Keith's face, the Galran features marring into a pout, brows furrowing. His ears, god, those ridiculous ears of his, perk forward and twitch. After weeks of getting this abundance of affection, those confused features shifted into acceptance. Shy glances back, leaning into him whenever he could. Eventually, carefully, reciprocating those affections.

From there, Lance didn't bother holding back. Not around the other Paladins, or Allura, or Coran. It was probably uncomfortable for them when it began to be so open, especially during meals when he dragged Keith out of hiding, or when they were caught on late nights in the kitchen, sometimes being caught snuggling on the couch. Eventually the residents of the castle got used to the blatant PDA and turned their eyes away.

And now here he was, Keith's breath ghosting along the shell of his year. His name a melodious mantra. The small space was just so hot, filled with their combined heat. Keith's lithe limbs wrapped around him, holding him tight.

His limbs ached, but not from fighting or training. It was the slight burn in his thighs and back that pointed to over exertion in between the sheets. Their labored breaths start to even out, Keith tucked into Lance's side, fingers tapping away at his chest in time with his rapid heartbeat. Lance had an arm around Keith's shoulder, playing with his hair, still damp with sweat. Keith purrs, snuggles into his shoulder and buries himself under the blanket, legs tangled.

Lance smiles, kissing his head, and watching as Keith drifts off to sleep.

Turns out, Lance was as good as knitting as he was at sowing. Where he got a sewing machine, don't ask Keith. But after Keith had tried to wear his old purple druid robes to battle, Lance threw a fit and discarded them down the shoot never to be seen again.

Keith purses his lips, careful not to bite into the flesh so he doesn't get lectured by Lance, yet again, for being careless about his 'pretty lips'. He blushed at that, and tries hard to follow but sometimes old habits die hard.

"So? What do you think?" Lance asks, grinning from beside him.

They stood in a bedroom re-purposed for Lance's hobby. In the middle was a mannequin from the shoulders to the thighs, with short neck but no head. That same headless mannequin wore garb similar to his druid robes but it was nearly all white. The hem at the edges, three inches thick in, was a startling red to match his old paladin suit. To match Red. His druid crest at the crown of his head was gone, but on the back, he sees as he circles the still piece, there was the Voltron symbol.

"I tried to keep it kinda similar style to the suits and stuff, making the under clothes too, by the way. The fabric shouldn't be too heavy, I asked Allura to get me some heavy duty light fiber from that last planet we visited for supplies." Lance babbles, holding out the sleeve for him. The inside is lined with the same material that the inside of a leather jacket is lined with.

Keith smiles a little, knowing he'll be able to keep warm much easier than the just thick cloth of his old robes. He looks closer at the stitching intricately designed. And was that... gold thread?

"Rose gold, to be exact." Keith blinks, had he spoken out loud? Lance looks abashed.

"Figured that's what you're staring at.. And yeah, same planet. They really love their fabric there. It's kind of like going to an Anne's fabric store." Keith blinks, his joke lost on him so he turns back to the robes.

"It's gorgeous..." Keith murmurs softly, feeling the soft touch of the fabric.

"Just like you." Lance blurts out, leaning against the mannequins' shoulder and staring with his signature smirk and raised eyebrow. Cocky. Keith blushes anyway. There wouldn't be a day he would get used to that. "The rose gold, it reminds me of your eyes." Lance turns back to his creation, admiring his own stitch work on the hood. "And the white, for purity." Keith purses his lips and raises a brow. He was anything but pure. Lance grins.

"You're an angel, Keith."

Lance swings the sleeve over Keith's shoulder, watching the stark difference between the crisp white of the robe and the mauve of his skin. Relishes in the dark shade that takes over his cheeks as he glances away with a pout.

"I'm anything but an angel.." He mumbles, making Lance only smile more and bring him closer, whispering in those drooping ears until they perk up.

"You're my angel, Keith. My precious cinnamon roll, too pure, too good for this world." Lance grins when Keith nudges his face into his neck, hiding the growing blush, and hugs him close.

"White is hard to clean..." Keith's voice is a little muffled with his lips pressed against Lance's collarbone, but he can still hear it.

"This stuff is really easy to clean, promise. Plus, I would never let anyone harm you ever again." Lance rests his arms over Keith's shoulders, rubbing his back as he feels arms spread around him. "Want to try it on?"

Silence. A small nod. Then a few moments after Keith deems his face less red enough to come out of hiding.

Lance strips him to near nothing, teasing all the while. Keith is back to blushing all the way down his neck and in nothing but shorts before Lance grabs the robes and helps him into it.

The fabric rests easy on his shoulders, feeling just a tad heavier than silk. He blinks, looks down at the thick looking fabric as Lance closes up the front, kissing at his chest as he does. He smiles and steps back. Keith moves his arms, walks around the room, and flips up the hood. It moves easy, nothing is restricted or too loose, and he blushes as he thinks of the thought that Lance knows his body so well he didn't need to take measurements.

Keith is pulling down the hood when Lance laces their fingers together between them.

"Do you like it?" He asks, waiting patiently but eager to know. Keith smiles, stretching up on the tips of his toes to kiss him.

"I love it very much.." He says quietly, like it was a secret. Lance grins and kisses him again and again, backing him up against the side of the bed that had mountains of fabric just sitting at the foot of the bed.

Then Keith is falling back and Lance follows suit, grinning down at him with the light from the ceiling haloing his head like an icon and Keith thinks he was the angel instead. His own, very personal, very loving, angel sent to protect him.

Keith doesn't stop him when Lance slowly unbuttons the complicated looking buttons hidden by a flap, giggling when Lance had trouble with a middle one, stops red faced and expression serious, just to carefully undo it.

Lance presses their lips together for a kiss, Keith being pulled up to stand to gently slide the robes off him and placed back on the mannequin. Then those artistic eyes were on him, Keith feels nearly translucent at the way they roam over his body, like he could see all his insecurities, his imperfections.

Keith didn't protest at all when Lance pulls his hands to his clothed chest, and helped to take off the clothes separating them. The articles of clothing lay scattered on the floor once they find their way back to the bed. This time Keith straddling narrow hips as Lance leaned back against the wall. His hands roamed over his chest, his hips, thighs, back, his neck, and Keith basked in the attention, breathing shallow and getting desperate.

But he does the same to Lance, letting his nimble fingers, careful of claws, trace over the scars and reiterates to himself from memory which mission to find him he got it from. He presses closer still, feeling Lance's heat spread to his body like wildfire, lets it engulf him with a comfortable sigh.

Voltron is becoming a force to be reckoned with, especially with Keith back. The fights are less grueling, less strenuous, and they've been receiving ever growing support from the rebellion.

Keith feels the weight pile up on him for every new kill of an enemy that won't back down. Feels colder and colder, draining his essence as he used his magic to heal others. He wants to speak up, feeling the same repressed feelings bubbling to the surface as before. He was different.

A wiggle in the back of his mind whispers to him you're expendable again. He bites his tongue, pretends everything is fine when he curls up next to Lance at night.

Everything was not right.

The battle crazed Gdarzi was filled with the sick and wounded. It the a prime war zone in its hay day, only now where they finally at peace. But the repercussions were large, and instead of helping the paladins find and bring wounded to be tended too, he was in the infirmary, healing them instead.

Keith was on his third broken bone of the seventh patient. The robes Lance made him helped to have the Gdarzi people trust in him. The white symbolized healing on their planet. He was getting dizzy, doing bare minimum on the scar tissue to not overwork himself. It's not as if he can just sleeps off this magic fatigue, so he is left to deal with the effects of having too much quintessence drained from him. He keeps silent, the whisper in the back of his head ever present again.

Next patient, bad head injury. The next, lost limb. The next, a minute from death's doorstep. Keith stands from finishing the process, panting softly and feeling oddly too hot in his own skin. He forces himself to see the next patient, turn a little too fast.

Keith's vision spins and blurs-

Keith wakes up to a white room, something poking in his arm. The light hurts his eyes and he hisses, then suspiciously the lights dim. He sighs, trying to see who. Lance huffs, sitting by the bedside of the infirmary.

"Why didn't you tell us it was too much, dummy.." he says, no heat in his words. He holds Keith's hand in his, gently stroking his hand. The little voice pipes up. "No, don't think like that." Lance says sternly, startling Keith out of his thoughts. "You have to tell me when it's too much, Keith. I'm here for you. I'm here to help you. Always."

Keith closes his eyes and takes a breath. Lets out tension from his body.

"I need raw quintessence." Lance listens and nods, keeps stroking his hand. "I haven't.. Had time to replenish it in myself." Lance purses his lips, hand tightens on his.

"Got it. Until then, no more healing okay? We gonna get you all nice and rested. Then we can help the wounded the old fashioned way." He smiles, leaning down to kiss Keith's cheek.

Keith sighs and nods, allowing unconsciousness to take him under.

It takes longer for Keith to recuperate than he plans, Lance makes him sleep and eat whenever he sees so much as a yawn or a growl of his tummy.

"Keith, you need regular sleep, in bed." He stresses, full on worried scowl on his face when Keith fights to keep helping re-bandage a patient. After a few minutes of bickering, Lance pulls out the big guns.

Damn it if Keith can't can say no to those puppy dog eyes, pouting lips and glossy eyes looking ridiculously cute on such a grown man. With a frustrated groan, he lets Lance escort him back to Lance's room in the castle. He should really call it their room, since he never steps foot in his own anymore, and all his attire is in Lance's closet. By the time he is allowed to use healing magic (by Lance) they have already done all they could on Gdarzi, those who could have been saved, could. There have been multiple fatalities, it makes Keith feel guilty that he couldn't stop them. He was back on the good team. He should have done more, better. Lance is always there to nip him on the ear in retaliation to having these thoughts.

You can't save everyone.

Truth was a bitter pill to swallow.

Allura sits across from him in the commons room, looking shell shocked. It was a good thing she set down her cup of tea before he told her.

"You... and I..?"

Keith nods, staying quiet to let her comprehend what he told her. He has his own cup of tea, sweet and delicate, in his hands. He takes a sip and sets down the cup and watches the string of emotions shift in her face.

Coran doesn't look much better. He had a sporkful of food goo lifted to eat, mouth hanging open. Unfortunately the food goo didn't make it to his mouth, only to plop right back onto the plate. Keith thinks he should close his mouth before space flies fly in. And maybe put down that spork before he hurts someone with it.

They had gotten on much better terms with Keith lately. Starting with awkward and careful interactions into something civil, their trust growing as they begin to understand, little by little. Keith thought it was a good time as any to tell them the truth, when Allura had invited him to the Altean version of crumpets and tea. Maybe he was wrong, but he thought this kind of information was best known now than later.

"We're... siblings?" Allura voices again, sounding like she was coming back to reality. Crashing back, really. Keith nods. "But.. how?" She looked like she was in between crying and screaming. Keith purses his lips. How to start?

"Different fathers." He says slowly, watching her face contort from confusion, to more shock, hurt? Anger. She bites her lip hard as she stays quiet. Coran has set down his spork and listened intently. No one ever talked about Allura's mother. What ever happened to her. Coran's face is carefully stoic. Keith takes a breath.

"Haggar," Allura and Coran stiffen, "was my mother. Or.. more like DNA donor." Keith can't bring himself to think of her as mother. Couldn't see her carrying him around for the gestation period of earth equivalent of nine to thirteen months, as Galra gestation is incredibly slow. Couldn't see her tending to his crying, vulnerable, tiny body. Not with the way she grinned when they realized who he really was. Not with how she never showed that motherly instinct to protect and comfort him. The way she never spared a glance until he was better than everyone else. He takes a breath and lets it out. "My father was Galra... part of the resistance. He sent me to Earth when I was still a kit, I don't remember much."

Silence stretched on as the other two digest the information. He waits another few minutes, sipping his cooling tea. Setting it down, he touches the marks on his face. His Altean marks, deformed from the raw quintessence he used in his magic. It had hurt before, a week after he first started learning. Keith knows they thought they were just another alien race he was that had the marks Haggar had. He explains the change. How his marks showed up after a week during interrogation with Haggar and Kryx, and that was how they knew. Keith explains how the form of magic they use changes their body, most notably the marks.

Allura holds her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers in each hand. She decides to hold onto the fact there was another Altean alive. The fact that she had family alive. Despite how fate had brought them together in the most sadistic ways. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she hesitantly stood to sit next to Keith. In the next moment, he had arms around him in a crushing hug, her face buried in his neck and he couldn't help but hug her back.

Coran is next to join them, hugging them both in his strong arms. Allura lifts her head, eyes red from her tears, and smiles. Keith returns it. Though all his life he never placed blood family above the relationships he's forged himself, it feels nice to know that he has them.

"You're Altean royalty?!" Matt screeches, eyes wide as he stares at Keith sitting across the table. They all look beyond shocked, as Allura once had. She smiles, nodding.

"My baby brother." She sounds giddy, the way she said it made Keith feel like blushing. He huffs instead.

Everyone's mouth hangs open, besides Allura, Coran, and himself. Of course, he doesn't go into detail of how. Coran nods, seeming proud.

"That's right! I even have the DNA tests to prove it." He says, holding up a PDA type device. They had done it after the "emotional bonding", to make sure. It came back fifty percent match.

Keith sometimes thinks he likes the silence more. But, he really doesn't feel like a prince at all. Let alone royalty, or someone who would ever become more than just a disposable foot soldier. After minutes of Shiro's stunned silence, Hunk and Pidge's stammering, Lance finally speaks up.

"I am sooo glad I added that rose gold to your robes." He grins Cheshire like. "Your highness." He stands to bow properly, aiming and succeeding in embarrassing Keith to high heaven. Lance was so going to use this opportunity to give Keith the royal treatment. Not that he doesn't do that now, he does, but now he can do it more and make terrible puns that would have Keith blushing and everyone either groaning at his cavity inducing public displays of affection or internally screaming at how sickeningly adorable it was. Either way Lance got what he wanted.

"Oh my god, shut up." Keith says, turning away to hide his darkening cheeks.

"But, my prince," Keith groans a little, covering his face. "They do so bring out your eyes." Keith turns, shoving a hand over his mouth to shut him up. Lance only grins against his hands, and gets onto one knee as he takes the hand. "As you wish."

Matt and Hunk squeal. Lance grins, knowing they got the reference. Keith just wants to get out of the situation. Shiro was watching them fondly, and Pidge started to narrate Keith's reactions.

"The prince couldn't believe it," they start, holding a fist just near their mouth like they were holding a microphone. "The most handsome, honorable knight had sworn his loyalty to him and only him. This was the best day of his life."

"Fucking christ, shut up!" Keith huffs and slouches in his seat heavily, bringing his shoulders to his folded down Galran ears, staring pointedly down at the table and his plate of goo he really feels like throwing at everyone in retaliation. Everyone laughed, but it was without malice.

From then on, everyone that passed him gave a mocking bow and a Prince Keith. It was light, teasing, and lessened the tension in the castle as he playfully raises his chin and answers back with a sir knight or Chancellor.

The resistance is growing. It's been another year since Keith had been back with his team. They were stronger than ever now. And with Keith as their front line druid or healer, they had been quickly joined in their fight. In all, they must have reclaimed at least fifty percent of the empire, three times more than they had done in the first year. More resistance cells sprung up, spurred by the knowledge that Voltron was an unstoppable force. That there was a chance to take back the free world after ten thousand years.

But with the territory came a great price. The price of lives lost over months, that pile up and up and weigh heavy on the paladin's lives.

Their first kills.

Keith wasn't able to stop them. Wasn't able to protect them. They split up one day, he, Hunk, and Lance went to one planet while the Shiro, Pidge, and Matt went to another. When they met back at the castle, Pidge was hardened, with red eyes past tears and their lips set in a hard line. Matt didn't look as bad, nor did Shiro, as they have had first had experience prior. But Pidge, Keith wishes he could use his magic to heal the trauma left, Pidge was taking it bad. He's seen them scrub their hands raw with hot water despite them being clean. Seen the dark circles under their eyes get worse and the whimpering from their room during night terrors.

Hunk was next. His gentle character left him hollow, looking out into the abyss of nothing. He had thrown up for days when he thought about it. The only way for him to keep any kind of food down was for Keith to work his magic and help his tummy be calm. Keith gave him hugs, while Lance does the same and says it was okay, they'll be okay. In the end, they will all be okay. Not the same, and definitely not at the epitome of health, but okay. The morbid reality and the non-sugar coated words made Hunk laugh a little, lifting just a little tension from his shoulders.

Lance was last. He did it to protect Keith as he was in a trance to undo a hex-induced trap. When Keith was done, he turned just in time to see Lance being grappled down to the ground by a large Galra soldier. His bayard was poised up between them, and in the next minute he fired it, the soldier fell limp against him. Lance pushes him off and to the side with a huff, blood splattering his face. There were two other soldiers slumped against the wall.

Instead of taking time to freak out, Lance was at his side in seconds, asking about his well being. Keith couldn't place his finger on it, but it wasn't as if his light has been extinguished, but dimmed, mostly in worry. Lance practically whisked him away back to their mission.

After, though, Lance had taken them through their nightly routine of hot bath, fresh clothes, and cuddles in bed. Lance had been reluctant to leave him for more than a few seconds at a time, alway keeping a hand on him one way or another, being so close. He clung to his clothes, burying his face in Keith's chest. Keith could feel his body wound tight, he rubs his back in soothing circles, since he couldn't offer anything else. He feels his own morale slipping, tension in his own body winding up the more he thought.

"I-"

"Stop that."

Keith purses his lips, looking down at where Lance spoke muffled into his chest, confusion rolling through him.

"Stop thinking like that. None of this is your fault."

"But I-"

"No. Stop. I know what you're thinking. We're in a war, Keith. It's not realistic to protect us from killing others. It's unrealistic for you to steal all our kills every single time." Keith freezes, staring at the top of his head and hugs him a little tighter. He felt so exposed, like he was on an autopsy table with his chest cut open and pinned, everything on display. He purses his lips, feeling tears sting his eyes.

"You've protected us long enough, Keith. It's time for us to protect you." Lance looks up, catching his eyes and staring, tired, but determined.

Their kiss in gentle, Lance pushing the urgency of his message to him, coursing through his veins like his magic does, leaving him burning.

Keith always gives into his heat.

Keith gulps down saliva, gripping Lance's hand hard as they stand at the control room with their team. Allura at the controls, Coran at the helm, typing away as they stare out at Galra Central Command.

This was it. The big moment. The final act. His hands shook and Lance gives him a comforting squeeze.

"We can do this." He murmurs, kissing his cheek.

They'd been lucky so far, nearly five years without members of their close knit group dying. Keith thinks their luck is dwindling. At the hundreds of Galra fleets, the rest called back to central to fight the last battle. Despite all their progress, it was nerve wrecking, and Keith felt as though this was the end.

One final battle. They can't all survive. He has a feeling it would be him that would be gone. He doesn't share the thought with Lance, though Lance whispers to to him what they would do once everything was over. He'll take him to Earth, to meet his family. They'd go to the beach and mountains, they'd build a life together. Travel together. They would just be. No more fighting, no more death.

"Maybe we can adopt a couple of kids too," Lance smiles, goofy, as he thinks about how cute Keith would be with a child clinging to him.

Keith blushed, pouting. "I doubt I will be very good with kids.." he says, disheartened. Lance only waves away his worries.

"They would love you so much. You'll get diabetus real quick." He smiles, bright and excited. Keith didn't want to ruin the moment. Didn't want to say how he had a tingle down his neck that he felt he wouldn't survive. So he smiled and indulged Lance.

Lets his radiating smile warm his heart, his palms warm his skin. He never wants this heat to end. He doesn't want to feel the heat leave him, leave him cold. Keith holds onto Lance as close as he could.

They'd have to rip it from his cold, hard, hands.

Keith takes another breath. Hold. Exhale. He squeezes his hand harder, Lance squeezing back reassuringly. Nerves played at his neck. His hands shook, just slightly, grip hard enough to bruise, like he was holding onto Lance for dear life.

"Paladins," Allura says, her voice deathly calm, grave. She was scared too. Allura looks to them, eyes looking over each one, taking them in, like it was the last time. It could be the last time, it could. Everyone thought so but no one voiced it. "Get to your lions." They were all in their suits. They all share a look, eyes hardened and they weren't ready, but this couldn't be put off any longer.

They left to the hangars. Lance stays at Keith's hangar door, pausing to kiss him, all the passion and love he felt was desperately sent to Keith. Arms around him, safe, warm, hugging him tighter and tighter and he responds in kind.

When he pulls away, Lance's eyes sparkle with determination, and slight fear.

"Stay safe. I have your back." He kisses him again, Keith repeats the words back, hoping he projects the same affection. They were quiet, alarms now going off that they were getting close.

"I love you. So much.."

Keith felt his heart jump to his throat and choke him. Lance had told him this before, loving and affectionate. But this, the emotion he said it with now had him believing that maybe, maybe, he had a chance of living.

"I love you too," He murmurs, voice cracking. Lance kissing him again, fierce, hard, hot.

"I love you so fucking much.. You better come back to me."

All Keith wanted to do was keep kissing him, maybe the war would disappear from the background. Maybe it would have all been a dream. But slowly, hesitantly, they part. They couldn't stay there forever. Lance tore himself away with great reluctance. Before he got the urge to kiss again, he left for his hangar.

Keith resisted the urge to run after him, the heat he took with him, and tries to preserve the heat that soaked through his skin. He touches his arms as he makes his way to Red, the robes did a good job to hold in the fleeting heat.

Breath in. Hold. Exhale.

Chaos.

Screams echoed in his ears, rattled in his head.. It was like a jackhammer kept hitting against his skull.

Keith could see the debris littering the empty space, has to maneuver through it. Sees bodies, doesn't glance at who they belong too. His body feels heavy with fatigue, breathing labored. This has been going on for hours. His team's voices chimed through his ears, letting him know they were alive.

They have to keep pushing. They had to.

There's been endless fleets, robobeasts that could survive in zero gravity and atmosphere. Zarkon.

Zarkon.

Haggar.

It was hard to pilot Red and do his magic, but he had to. He will. For everyone's sake. Everything outside was muted, no sound of explosions hitting his ears. It felt surreal. He grits his teeth. Feels Haggar's magic and aims, knows she feels his own.

Magic started building up, more and more, heat started being leached from his body that Keith swore once belonged to Lance. It was now or never.

Breath in. Hold. Exhale.

Keith lets out a battle cry as he attacks. Haggar had the same idea.

"Keith-!" Lance screams his name as their magic hit one another, sending a wave of explosive light enveloping everyone and everything.

"Keith!"

Everything was so bright. Intense. Lance's voice was far away, as far away as the heat was receding too. His body felt as cold as the void of space. He couldn't hold on any longer..

"Keith!"