Content warning for a moderately graphic depiction of a drug overdose, and for needles.

Overdose

"Well, it certainly isn't broken or sprained," Coran said as he finished inspecting Keith's injured shoulder. "So, there's some good news."

It had been a dumb mistake. Keith had been doing some late-night solo training on what was already very little sleep. He took a dive and landed strangely on his left shoulder. Even small movements pained him, so he reluctantly sought out Coran to give it a once-over, hating the added shame of getting the Altean out of bed.

"Yeah, I figured I just pulled something," Keith said, straightening out his back and flinching as it strained his injury. "But thanks for checking it out, Coran."

"Not a problem," Coran said, crossing the room to rummage around in the cabinets. "And I would tell you, barring emergencies, that you rest your shoulder, but that would be a wasted effort on you, so…ah, here we are!"

He returned to Keith's side and handed him a pill bottle. The label was entirely in Altean. "Two of these every four vargas as you need them."

Keith thanked him again, pocketing the bottle with full intent to medicate himself before bed. He smiled. "No instant fixes then, huh?" Not that he was expecting it—entirely.

"Nope. Just some good old fashioned, proper rest," Coran said, punctuating himself with a light poke of his finger into Keith's chest. "I know you like to be at your best, but these late nights are not the way to go about it."

Keith put his hands up in a placating gesture. Standing and moving towards the infirmary's exit, he said, "Alright. I get it; going to bed."

He wasn't exactly up to returning to the training deck anyway, and he decided that he might even take Coran up on his suggestion and put a hold on his midnight sessions. Probably. For now. Until this injury was a distant, stupid memory.

The Castle was quiet, and as expected, Keith didn't run into anyone else on the way to his room. With restricted, pained movement, he got himself ready to turn in and popped a couple pills to help him sleep before situating himself in bed.

It took a while for him to get comfortable and drift off, so he noticed as the painkillers took effect that they took the edge off, but didn't get rid of the pain entirely. Great, he thought, annoyed. But what remained wasn't anything he couldn't push through for training with the team in the morning. He had managed with worse. After some more tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep.

And woke up in agony.

The pain in Keith's shoulder seemed to have doubled overnight. Probably from laying still for hours on end. It was stiff, and moving ignited every muscle in his upper back. He pulled in a deep breath and managed to get himself sitting on the edge of his mattress, biting his tongue against the pained whimpers attempting their way out of him.

Stretching it out didn't make too much of a difference aside from loosening it a little. A glance at his clock told him he had slept in and had about a half hour to get to the training deck.

For a moment, Keith actually considered skipping, letting Shiro and Allura know how much pain he was in. But he hated the idea of missing training, seeing it as a lost day for potential improvement. Not to mention how it might stretch to multiple days if his shoulder didn't get better. Setbacks weren't an option. Plus Lance would probably never let him live it down.

So, as he shook out the painkillers into his palm, he allowed five to leave the bottle. A few extra wouldn't hurt him.

The team wasn't too far into training when Shiro started noticing that Keith seemed…off. Everyone was allowed to have bad days, but there was a difference between simple mistakes and a definite, uncharacteristic sluggishness.

Keith's timing was off, taking far longer to respond to instructions than usual. He seemed constantly out of breath, hardly spoke—even to just apologize—and Shiro caught him appearing to sway slightly on his feet when he wasn't tripping over them. Was he sick?

Whatever was going on was more than concerning. Shiro decided he would pull Keith aside after his sparring match with Lance and ask him about it. Maybe order him to take a rest day. But the fact that he shouldn't have waited just to save Keith's pride became quickly evident.

As the rest of the team watched from the sidelines, Hunk suddenly stood.

He began to say, "Hey…Keith doesn't look so—"

And the Red Paladin suddenly dropped like a brick, landing in a graceless, unmoving heap. The stunned silence that followed lasted only for a second.

"Keith!" Shiro called as he sprinted over to him, heart in his throat. Hunk and Pidge followed closely.

Lance looked frightened. "I-it wasn't my fault! I barely touched him!"

Shiro dropped to his knees beside their fallen teammate, and pulled Keith into his arms. "It's alright, Lance; I saw. He just—"

What he saw made him take pause. He expected that Keith had simply passed out from exhaustion or the cold that Shiro supposed had taken hold of him, but that didn't seem to be the case. He was trembling almost violently, his eyes open to show pupils constricted to pinpricks.

Pidge gasped. "What's wrong with him?"

Shiro didn't answer because he didn't know. As calmly as he could, he removed one of his gloves to check Keith's vitals. He was startled not only by the weak pulse and labored breathing, but also just how cold his skin felt.

"He's freezing," Shiro murmured to himself. He cradled his friend a little closer, gently placing a hand on his chilled face. "Keith, please. What's going on? Can you hear me?"

Nothing seemed to be bringing Keith back to some semblance of awareness. Not anyone's gentle touches, or their multiple attempts to speak to him. Shiro felt a helpless panic slowly rising in him as Coran and Allura finally burst into the training room.

"What happened?" Allura demanded, her toned laced with fear for the unresponsive Paladin.

"We don't know. He just dropped," Hunk quickly supplied. "He looks really, really sick though."

Coran wordlessly made his way to them, gently shooing Hunk and Pidge aside so he could look over Keith himself. After a moment of repeating Shiro's previous actions, he blew out a breath and said in a broken whisper, "You foolish boy."

"Coran?" Lance prompted.

"He hurt his shoulder last night, and I gave him some painkillers for it. Seems he's overdosed himself by accident."

"What do we do?" Shiro asked, his eyes finally leaving Keith's face as he looked at Coran imploringly.

The Altean stood. "Don't worry. I've got just the thing. Get the top half of his armor off; I'll need a bare arm," he said. Not wasting any more time he bolted out of the room, shouting, "Just stay there, don't move him at all, and put him on the floor on his side in case he vomits!"

Without another word of explanation, he was gone, and Lance oddly got up and followed him out.

Shiro didn't bother to think about the reason for it. He did as asked and slowly placed Keith back down, refusing to completely break contact as he kept a light hand on his shoulder.

Hunk and Pidge resumed their places and assisted Shiro in removing Keith's armor. The Red Paladin's breathing had become more audible, bringing to light just how shallow it was. Allura observed him sadly.

"I wish he had told us that he hurt himself," she said. "He's advanced enough in his skill that a day or two off from training would hardly have been an issue."

"As if this guy knows the meaning of taking it easy," Pidge said, frustrated. "Even when he's in enough pain not to think before popping way too many pills."

Shiro sighed, unzipping the upper half of Keith's flight suit, so that they could extract one of his arms. Pidge was right. He had never thought he would need to have a discussion with his team on self-medication safety, but that was apparently in their future now. This might be a good enough lesson though.

Everyone's head whipped to the door as it opened again, but it was just Lance returning. Shiro couldn't help but smile through his anxiety as he saw their Blue Paladin come in clutching a blanket and a pillow.

"Figured he might be here a while," Lance said, eyes pointed to the side.

Allura took the soft items from him. "That's very kind of you, Lance."

"Aw, he does care," Hunk teased, falling a little flat due to the wetness in his eyes and his tremulous tone.

"Just don't tell him it was me, " Lance said. But, he quickly dropped his indignant stance as he looked down at his ailing teammate. "He'll be okay, right?"

Shiro finished draping the blanket over Keith's shivering form, loosely in case he seized or something.

"Of course," he assured. "Coran knows what to do…he'll be fine."

A few more minutes ticked by and silence weighed the room down. Lance had begun to pace after the discovery that Keith's lips were steadily turning a discomforting shade of blue as his breathing worsened. He paused here and there to steal a glance at his friend before resuming the anxious motion.

Shiro held Keith's hand, speaking quiet reassurances to him on the off chance that he was at least minutely aware. Seeing him like this was disturbing and Shiro knew it would likely haunt his already potent nightmares for a long time. He tried to stay calm, knowing that the remedy was on its way, but every second seemed to chip away at his sanity.

Coran finally returned, looking frazzled, but carrying with him a med kit of sorts. He dropped next to them and opened it, procuring a syringe and a bottle of clear medicinal liquid. With practised ease, he prepared the syringe, making sure there were no air bubbles before injecting its contents into the crook of Keith's arm.

After a minute or two, Keith was already regaining a bit of his colour, and his breathing began to deepen and ease. Shiro took his pulse, reporting its return to normal. Everyone started to relax.

"I'm sorry," Coran said morosely after a time. "I should have warned him about how powerful those painkillers can be in larger doses."

Shiro reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. "He's fine now. That's what matters."

"You assumed Keith would follow instructions," Pidge reasoned. "He was just dumb, and didn't. This was his fault."

Shiro opened his mouth to scold her for being harsh, but, once again, she was right. Keith had made a mistake—no arguments to be had there. Just a choice, strict conversation once he had recovered. It wouldn't happen again. To any of them. Shiro would be sure of that.

Despite the truth, Coran didn't look completely comforted. "No, I'm still at least partly to blame…I'll do better to look after you all in the future. I swear it."

Lance stepped up to the plate, crouching by the dejected Altean.

"It might be worth the time to translate the labels on these kinds of things?" he suggested. "So no one makes the same mistake, or a worse one."

Coran perked up slightly. "Hm. Not a bad idea at all. I honestly should have thought of it sooner."

"Yeah, I mean it worked wonders helping me find things in the kitchen," Hunk said.

"So, we've labeled things in the kitchen, but not the alien medicine cabinet," Lance said, shaking his head. He managed to smile at the ridiculousness of it. "Glad to know we have our priorities in order."

"Guys, I think Keith's awake," Shiro said suddenly.

All eyes turned to the slightly more lucid Red Paladin. He blinked up that them, confused and still pretty drugged-up despite the counter measures.

"Shiro?" he croaked wearily.

"Right here, buddy," Shiro said, brushing some hair out of Keith's face. "Feeling better?"

Keith didn't seem to be able to process the question, or he was just too out of it to really get a good sense of how he felt. Either way, he said nothing, coughing once and turning his face more into the pillow. Shiro frowned and adjusted the blanket so that it covered him better.

"Well, he's not suffocating anymore, so I'll take that as 'better'," Lance said.

Keith looked at him, guilt briefly flickering in his dark, glazed eyes.

"S'rry," he said quietly.

"Just…no more over-using alien meds you don't fully understand, yeah?" Pidge said. Any frustration she had felt at Keith's actions had melted away, or at least had been put on the back-burner in favor of relief.

Closing his eyes, Keith simply said, "'Kay."

"We'll talk about it later," Shiro told him, even though he probably wouldn't remember come the next time he woke. "Just get some rest."

"Shoulder hurts," Keith complained, his voice quickly fading.

Shiro ran a hand through his hair. "I know." Now. "Sleep. You'll feel better."

They let Keith sleep where he was, none of them willing to risk moving him until the painkillers were completely out of his system. Coran had to give him a couple more injections as the effects wore off, but eventually the overdose symptoms disappeared. No one felt particularly up to continue training, and Allura understood, allowing them a day off.

Once it was safe, Shiro bundled Keith up in the blanket and carried him to his room where he could sleep it all off in a more comfortable place. He put him to bed, and hardly left his side for the rest of the day, chatting with the others who restlessly came and went as the hours passed.

Eventually, Coran came in to stay. He took up the same vigil as Shiro, likely sitting in wait with an apology ready for the second Keith was coherent enough to understand its sincerity.

Please Read! - Edit as of February 23, 2020:

Hey, everyone. My desire to write for this show has slowly dwindled since its ending, so this series is unlikely to continue. In general, I'm just not really into Voltron as much as I was. It's possible I might return to this someday, but for now, I'm calling it done. Thanks to everyone who has read these and left all those wonderful comments. It always brightened my day!

I've written a couple stories for Final Fantasy XV, and I intend to write for other fandoms in the future as well if anyone's interested in reading other things from me.

Other than that, I'm pretty active on Tumblr, so you can find me there! (URL: mo-coughlin)

Thanks again!