Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re not my brother,” PIdge’s voice is shaky yet sharp. Their eyes may be shedding tears but there is anger in their veins. “My brother isn’t an old, dumb robot.” They point an accusing finger at him as they speak. You’re an imposter! You’re some AI that’s desperate to feel human.” Without a word more, they stomp their way out of the cell, earning concerned looks from the other paladins along their way down the hallway. With Pidge’s interrogation of him turning out to be more of a shouting fest, they hesitate to interact with him further. Especially the yellow paladin, who holds a strange scanner. The scanner is a large, awkward box that has an arguably excessive number of buttons and knobs and two thin antennae.

The yellow paladin speaks in a hushed whisper to Shiro. Despite his whisper, Matt can hear every word he says. “I’m telling you Shiro, he may be a robot but the scanner is reading him as a life form. The scanner isn’t broken. I ran tests on it all night to make sure it’s working properly. There’s a good chance that he is who he says he is. Or at least, isn’t your average robot.”

Matt is tempted to interject, to explain like he did with Pidge. But he holds his tongue - metaphorically speaking. Now that his body is an old, Altean robot, he has no tongue. He hardly has any pieces that serve for facial markings, either. It only makes him look more inhuman, only makes it easier to believe he is some malfunctioning robot. Matt regrets not finding time to paint on a face, to make himself appear a little more like, well, himself.

He liked to think the clothes, the loose pants, the long sleeved shirt and Star Wars -esque cloak was enough to look human. But apparently, it will take more than clothing, more than trying to change his outward appearance to get them to see him as human. It will likely take even more to get them to see him as a specific human - as Matthew Holt.

Although the Alteans had left to comfort Pidge, everyone else stayed. Including Keith, who watches him with an unreadable expression. He’d love to know that he’s thinking.

“We should turn on the magnetic wall and then grill him. He’ll tell us the truth if he wants to get off the wall. I can’t imagine even a robot or AI or whatever he is liking to be stuck to a wall for a long amount of time,” Keith suggests. Okay so maybe he doesn’t want to know that he’s thinking.

“There’s got to be a less…” Shiro struggles to find his words, “intense way to make sure he’s telling the truth. Can’t you do some tech think with him, Hunk?”

The yellow paladin, who had been nervously fiddling with the scanner, jumps at Shiro’s words. “Yes… No… Maybe? There is one thing we could try but we’d have to power him down first. To power him down, we should probably have one of his manually do it to make sure he isn’t faking. Should we have Pidge come back? He’s convinced that he’s their brother so he won’t hurt her.”

“I won’t hurt any of you,” Matt corrects. His interruption earns him surprised looks from all present. “What? You’re not talking as quietly as you think. You’re pretty much whisper-yelling.”

“And you’re pretty much interrupting us,” Keith retorts. Without a word more he pushes two buttons outside of the cell door before entering. Apparently one of the buttons is for the room’s magnet because Matt is suddenly yanked backward. He’s practically glued to the wall, the magnets so strong he can’t even turn his head.

“Nighty night robot that may or may not be Matt,” Keith playfully whispers, before reaching to open the flap at the back of his neck. Within seconds, his power button is pushed, and his vision goes dark.

Since he is not a true robot, a true machine, he doesn’t power down completely. The human part of him, the soul that gives this robot body a personality, is still wide awake. However, with his robot body switched off, he is unable to move, see or hear. It’s a terrifying experience. He’s completely at the mercy of those around him.

Granted, he trusts Team Voltron. He’s friends with Keith and Shiro, and Pidge is his sibling. They wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Or rather, they wouldn’t let any harm come to anyone, including a robot that may or may not be Pidge’s brother. Although Matt knows deep down that he can trust them not to fling him into space, destroy him, or in any way do strange things to him while he’s powered down, he still can’t help feeling scared.

There’s hardly any way for him to tell what is going on. He’s unable to see or hear, and as a robot, you can’t really feel much. You can feel weight, you can feel motion and your sensors can detect heat but other than that… He can only image, or rather remember what fabric or skin or soil or any Earthly thing feels like. He can only imagine the sensation of being touched, of skin connecting in the form of poke or handshake or a hug.

He can faintly feel the magnets release, and someone or something stopping him from hitting the floor. He can then feel the same person lift him, and assumably carry him into a different room. The arms that carry him struggle to keep him lifted, slightly jostling him every couple of steps to adjust their hold on him. Luckily their destination proves to be near, the periodic jostling ending with one final jostle, haphazardly placing him on a flat surface. Matt hardly has time to process it all before a cord is plugged into his neck, restoring his vision. As a familiar scene unfolds before him, he comes to realize the cord didn’t restore his vision. Instead, it restored his memories.

Some memories are pleasant…

“Just one more day until Kerberos,” Matt says, breaking the silence. Shiro, who had lifted his gaze to look at the stars, lowers it to look Matt in the eyes. Matt had performed the same motion earlier. He never would admit it to anyone, but he’d much rather gaze at his intelligent, kind and supportive best friend than the stars. Although he actively finds himself mesmerized by stars and space, Shiro has the potential to mesmerize him more. “How are you feeling?”

Shiro’s response is immediate. “I’m feeling excited… And nervous. Mostly nervous. It’s my first mission. You two may have some pilot training, but I am the official pilot. It’s a lot of responsibility. I’m happy to have gotten to a point where I can go on missions, where I can be the pilot I’ve always wanted to be, but…” His voice trails off. As his gaze shifts away from Matt’s face and into the distance, it becomes obvious he is reluctant to say more.

“But overwhelming,” Matt guesses. He’s feeling similar emotions. Although it is easier for him. Not only is his first mission with his best friend, his crush, it is also with his father. He’ll be surrounded by familiar, trustworthy faces in space. He, in theory, should have nothing to worry about. However… “It’s a dream come true, but a lot to take in… A lot of responsibility. By going on this mission, we’re taking a risk. We’re risking our reputations, and a slim possibility our health and lives.”

Realizing his words are far from comforting, he awkwardly clears his throat. “What I mean, is I think I understand what you’re thinking… What you’re feeling. I’m here for you. You can do this. We can both do this. So smile a little and look up at the stars. Soon we’ll be amongst them. Won’t that be cool?”

Some memories aren’t as pleasant.

There’s a tractor beam. A real-life tractor beam. Matt would find it cool if the aliens behind were more friendly. Instead, they are rough and unpredictable. With heavy hits, they knock them out. Sometime later they wake them on the bridge of the ship, splashing cold water in their faces.

Many words are exchanged, none of them in a language both parties can understand. Matt likes to think they could’ve talked their way out of it if they had a common language or translator. It’s how he comforts himself at night. He and the other prisoners need a whole lot of comfort.

They are imprisoned in dark damp spaces. They are treated worse than unwanted pets, moldy food and even more questionable water their only items for consumption. The guards watch them behind masks, their thoughts otherwise unreadable unless they motion to and laugh at the prisoners. It isn’t a happy existence. In fact, it’s far from happy. The sorry survivable until the arena comes into play.

Prisoners are forced into the arena once a week. It’s a grimly amusing event for the Galra. For the prisoners, it’s a death sentence - few come back from the arena. Matt personally hasn’t seen anyone from his cell come back to the arena. Such a fact includes his dear friend Takashi Shirogane.

Shiro had scared him. Had scarred him. All in the name of saving him. It was a weird twist of luck and fate that Matt is forever thankful for. He wishes he could repay Shiro the favor, wishes he could find him… However, Matt is painfully aware of the chances of Shiro being alive. It’s slim to none. Shiro was the first human to enter the arena. Matt is no alien biology expert, but Shiro doesn’t have high odds of success when matched with an alien. Especially if that alien is similar to that of their captors in brute strength.

Shiro is the first human to be sent to the arena. Matt hopes that if another human is destined to be sent in, he hopes that it is him. That he is the last human to be sent in. He hopes that his father, wherever he may be, is at least a little safer - gets to live a little longer. Surely even the worse work camp is better than the arena.

Some memories are grim.

His vision is red. His clothes are red. His hands are red. The ground is red. Everything is red. His sight, his hearing, everything he touches he is accompanied by pain in suffering. Much of it is his own, but some of it is another’s.

They don’t give him a weapon. They never do. They expect him to die. They want him to die. He’s supposed to serve as a warm-up, an introduction to the main show. Despite their expectations, he becomes the main show.

No matter how badly he bruises, bleeds and breaks he keeps on fighting. Or at the least crawling until he can crawl no more. He’s surprisingly lucky. No one expects him to be this lucky. No one expects to live this long. He defies their expectations. He gains the attention of the infamous Haggar.

His luck runs out. His fate twists yet again. Or perhaps it does more than twist… It gets tied in a knot. He has no more luck. He has no more fate. No fate other than to die or become a monster.

Some memories are HORRIBLE.

The memory of how he died is blurred by intense feelings of that such as pain and shock. However, the memory of waking in his new body is crystal clear. The witch, the infamous Haggar is standing over him. She is said to never smile, yet she is smiling. She is gazing at him with a wicked grin. She seems proud of herself.

Matt goes to move, to wipe that grin off her face, but he’s unable to move at all. Well, save for turning his head. There’s no visible restraints but he can feel a force pulling him. A magnet. Magnets can’t restrict a human, but as he is able to see his metal arms, he begins to think. Maybe I’m not human anymore.

It’s almost as if she can read his mind. “I saved you, human. I improved you. You should be thankful. You would be dead, like your friend, without me.” Suddenly the magnets release, and he’s able to move. First sitting up and taking a look around, he’s horrified to see himself. Limp, motionless and with clouded eyes. His body is bruised and bloody. That description is being generous. His body is messy, is dead.

“What did you do to me?” Matt cries, lunging for Haggar, “What did you do to Shiro?” She zaps him with something and it’s over. He never really gets an answer but over time he’s able to connect two and two together.

Some memories are bittersweet.

He wasn’t expecting company. He wasn’t expecting anything, really. There’s a reason he chose to have a remote base. There’s a reason he chose to decline offers of him becoming a rebel commander. Who would want him as a commander? He survived the arena. He survived but at the cost of lives - and not his own. Well, perhaps his own is included. Afterall, can a robot like him really be alive? His senses are limited to sight, sound, pressure sensing and heat sensing. He can’t feel textures. He has no need to eat, drink or sleep - save for recharging his body once in a while. Then again, he does not sleep in a normal fashion. Instead, he plugs himself into an outlet like a damn iphone.

The little green intruder stands in front of his computer, of his precious data. As much as he’d love to ask questions first and fight later, he can’t let the data be stolen. He can’t let his secret base be found.

He swings and misses. The little green intruder is fast and slippery, oddly reminding him of a Garden snake. As they respond to his swings with attacks of their own, they create an odd dance… A dance of dodging and desperation. I must stop you.

Even though they are quick, they can’t dodge him forever. In a matter of minutes, he has them on the ground. He lifts his arms, preparing to hit them once more when a demand of “what did you do to my brother? stops him. That voice… Could it be? He hardly has a chance to blink before Pidge attacks once more, knocking his mask off. Despite the surprise of having his mask knocked off, he manages to choke out, “Pidge!”

Their reply is anything but welcoming. “Who are you? Why do you have my brother’s voice? What did you do to my brother?”

One memory bleeds into another.

“What did you do to my brother?”

“What did you do to me?”

“You’re not my brother.”

His vision, his hearing, his everything is restored in a flood of information. If he was still human, he’d likely have a headache. Instead he has the robot equivalent, some of his systems are slowly loading, little rainbow wheel spinning overtime. Slowly rising from his lying position, he surprised to find everyone gazing at him with watery eyes.

“I’m still a bit skeptical,” Pidge admits, stepping forward, “but I’m willing to try to believe you’re him… That you’re my brother.” They furiously sniffle to prevent themselves from crying. They loosely wind their arms around him. Shiro and Keith are slow to follow suit. Everyone else in the room just gaze at him with a sad, worried eyes. They seem tempted to hug him, but unlike the people that are hugging him right now, they have no reason to. They didn’t know him before and certainly don’t know him now. They have seen some of his memories, but they will never understand what he went through, who he is. Matt doesn’t think he will ever understand himself, either.

Matt wishes he could find Pidge’s statement, promise of trying to be comforting. He wishes he found their embrace comforting. Instead, he can’t help but wonder… Did they see everything he saw? If so, why are they willing to try to trust him? Why are they willing to hug him? “How much did you see?”

No one answers him, so he asks again. “How much did you see?” When they fail to answer again, he stops asking. Instead he demands. “Tell me what you saw.”

Pidge, Shiro and Keith step back, releasing him from their hug before they respond to him. “We saw, well… ” Pidge begins. “We saw what you saw,” Keith finishes.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro adds, “if you want to talk about it, we could-” Matt is quick to cut him off.

“I don’t want to talk about it. You saw what happened. What is there to say? You saw what happened. I don’t have anything to add. I don’t have anything to say that would justify my actions, or excuse myself for what I did.” Matt swings his legs over the side of the table, standing before saying more. “I need some space, no pun out intended.” Pushing his way past the blue and yellow paladin, he storms out of the room and enters the hallway.

He has no destination in mind. The only remote goal he has is to distract himself, to push the memories back down in the depths of his mind where they belong. After stomping about for a few minutes, his metal feet colliding with the metal floor in a series of loud thugs, he ends up at the bridge.

He may not be able to read Altean, or fully understand the tech, but he allows his robot body fill in the gaps. Placing one hand on the console, he wishes with all his might to see his home. The large glowing map before him spins and spins, faster than that of the loading wheel when he was rebooting. Despite its fast speed, it takes a disheartening amount of time for the map to show where the Earth his compared to where he is now. “My home, who I use to be , is so far away,” Matt whispers. Unable to cry, he settles for simulating tear-blurred vision, allowing his vision to glitch. “ It’s so far away .”

Chapter Text

Pidge is the first to approach him after he storms off. It’s clear he has plenty of experiences, plenty of emotions he should talk about, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to pretend that they didn’t see a thing… That they didn’t see the horrible acts he committed in the name of survival. Although the situation he was in, the fight or die concept of the arena justifies his actions, he personally feels such justification is flimsy. If he was able to fight, to survive that long he should've tried harder to escape. He should’ve and could’ve.

Seeming to sense the chaos within his mind, Pidge sits wordlessly beside them. They stay like that for a while, Matt huddled in on himself, legs close to his chest while Pidge is sitting beside him a more sprawled, relaxed position. Without warning, they interrupt the silence. “How do you plan a party in space?” As they speak they shift their gaze from the map and the stars it contains. When he doesn’t respond immediately, they squint. They’re waiting for him to reply.

“You planet,” he replies half-heartedly, part of him wanting to laugh at the cliche pun, but unable to do so. “That wasn’t very funny, Pidge. Everyone uses that pun. It’s a classic, but moreso overused space pun.”

They continue to squint at him. Matt isn’t sure what they aim to achieve by squinting. Isn’t sure what they’re trying to see by squinting. However, his confusion is cleared up by their forced, but still loud laugh. “I think I’m starting to believe you’re my brother. No robot is this moody, or as likely to ridicule me on my choice of puns.” A beat of silence passes. “You’re not doing anyone any good moping out here.”

They’re right. Of course, they’re right. But their words can’t stop him from feeling, sad and angry and frustrated and everything. He’s pretty sure he feels a strange mix of every emotion known to man. “I know,” he replies, his frustration ever growing. “I know that, Pidge. Why wouldn’t I know that?”

Even though they could easily respond to his sharp words with harsh words of their own, they don’t. Instead, they brush him off. Shrugging, they say, “I don’t know. All I know is that now is your chance to be the Matt you want to be. Not that Matt you were, or the Matt the Galra Empire tired to make you be. Who do you want to be, Matt? Do you want to be a mopey, pathetic robot? Or do you want to try- Try to smile, try to live and regain some of what you lost? You may not be the Matt that left for the Kerberos mission, but you’re still my brother. Or at least, you claim to be. I’m not sure I quite believe it, to be honest. But maybe you can change my mind. You were always great at that.” Without a word more they leave, giving him a lot to think about.

Matt can hardly believe that his sibling, his younger, less experienced sibling gave him such sound advice. “I hate it when you’re right, Pidgey,” Matt mumbles, curling up on himself further. Arms wrapped around his legs and chin resting on his knees, he begins to think about what Pidge said. It’s easy to remember who he was, who they wanted him to be. What isn’t easy, what’s far from easy is figuring out who he wants to be. He may know the basics - he may know that he wants to oppose the Galra Empire, that he wants to be a brother and a friend, but those are obvious goals. Obvious wants. What he isn’t so sure of is if he wants to go back to being the way he was, an innocent boy that loved space. A guy who made lame jokes, insisted on Friday night pizza nights and held final cram sessions in his dorm room, the only attendees his two friends, Shiro and Keith.

The more Matt thinks about it, the more he realizes that it’s hard. It’s hard to figure out who he wants to be, especially when he compares himself to who he used to be. With a heavy sigh, he rises from the floor. Reluctantly turning the map off, he leaves the bridge.

Baby steps. They’re all he can take. He’s not ready to figure out who he wants to be or take the steps to become that person. However, he’s ready to live. To pretend that he’s more than what they made him. That even though his body is made of metal that his soul is human.

He supposes the first step to becoming human is to admit his mistakes and apologize. Wandering through the castle hallways, he searches for the last person he talked to - Pidge. With him having absolutely no idea which room is theirs, he settles for knocking on the first door he sees. If no one answers, he’ll move on. If the person who answers isn’t Pidge, he’ll move on. With these ideas in mind, he knocks on the first door.

Possibility one is ruled out. Someone answers. As for who answers, it becomes very clear that they aren’t Pidge. He knew better than expect the first door to contain Pidge, but he would never have guessed that it would be Shiro instead.

“Hey,” Shiro says, voice soft. “Do you want to talk to me, or were you looking for someone else?” His voice may be soft, but the look is giving him is even softer. One could mistake it for pity, but Matt knows Shiro well enough to know that it is worry. He worries but he’s too hesitant to admit it, to himself or to others.

“I was looking for Pidge, because they said some stuff…” Matt says in an honest reply, “and I feel like I owe them a thank you and an apology. Although, I suppose I owe them more than that. They’ve been looking for me all this time, haven’t they? They’ve been looking all this time… They never gave up.”

“They didn’t give up,” Shiro confirms, with a trembling smile. “And I didn’t either. You may have changed… You may be different from what I expected, but you’re you, Matt. There’s no way that a robot could fake the emotions you’re feeling. There’s no way the Galra could have created those memories. You’re my best friend, Matt. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t be more happy to see you.” Shiro gazes into his eyes as he speaks. His eyes are filled with warmth - and water. Before Matt has a chance to respond, tears fall from Shiro’s eyes.

The sight of Shiro crying, a man that he thought was tougher than steel, throws him off. Unsure of what to say, what to do, he takes a hesitant step forward. Slowly raising his arms, he wraps them around Shiro. “Shiro,” he whispers, “I’m happy to see you too.” He speaks not to comfort Shiro or himself, he speaks to merely state the truth.

The truth has a complex impact on Shiro. On one hand, it seems to make him feel better, his tears coming to a pause with a sharp inhale. On the other hand, it only makes things worse, Shiro resuming his crying soon afterward. “I’m sorry,” Shiro cries into his shoulder, “I wasn’t able to help you when you needed me the most.”

Oh.

Oh .

“You can blame yourself for what happened. You saved me once. That was more than enough saving. Besides, you couldn’t have predicted what would happen,” Matt replies, gently patting Shiro’s back. “No one could have.” A beat of silence passes. “Besides, I should be the one apologizing. I snapped at you, I snapped at everyone earlier. I also never properly thanked you for saving my life.”

With a loud sniffle, Shiro pulls away from his embrace. “You know I didn’t do that expecting a thank you.” He awkwardly chuckles, suddenly seeming unsure of what he should do. Should he hug Matt again? Should he place a comforting hand on his shoulder? After their hug, after his brief moment of crying, he settles for shoving his hands in his pockets, with only the thumbs sticking out. His thumbs anxiously twitch as he continues to speak. “I wish I could’ve done more. I wish that…” his voice trails off. It’s as though he’s afraid that by saying it out loud that he’ll make it worse- that he’ll cross a boundary.

Matt can’t blame him for being fearful. Talking about his condition is almost as difficult, as painful as living it. Almost, but not quite. “You couldn’t have prevented this, Shiro,” Matt replies. “Just like how I couldn’t have prevented…” Now it’s his turn to have his voice trail off - to stop before he crosses a boundary. “What I mean is,” he adds, correcting himself. He hopes to save the conversation. The man had tensed at his words and understandably so, his robotic arm, his constant reminder of his time in the arena is a sensitive subject. Matt should know better than to talk about it, especially this soon. Especially since they have to get to know eachother again. They’re once friends that are now practically strangers- the only remnants of themselves they have is their fragile friendship and fragile memories. At one point, they had shared fragile bodies and fragile souls but now…

But now his body is tough. Every part of him is able to resist harsh blows. Parts of him that are are replaceable. He can get repaired, he can get new parts in a repetitive cycle of old and new. In that sense, he’s unstoppable, unkillable. In the long run, it makes him immortal. Or does it? He has a feeling one solid headshot or virus could end him.

“What I mean is, you did all that you could. I did all that I could. Neither one of us could’ve predicted what happened. Neither one of us could’ve stopped what happened. We were swept up in the tide of fate.” Twisted fate.

Shiro’s thumbs finally stop twitching. However, the motion is replaced with the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. “Do you really believe that?” His question is vague. Matt waits for him to clarify but no clarification comes.

“What are you asking me about? Everything or just one part?” Matt hopes that only one part is the cause of question. It would be easier to answer him, to understand what upset him that way. However, Matt has a feeling that everything he said upset him. He couldn’t blame him. Between what he’s said, what they’ve been through, and what they saw while examining his memories is a lot - especially for one day.

“All of it,” Shiro admits, with a shaky breath. “All of it, but mostly the last bit. Isn’t fate supposed to be a beautiful, positive thing? Not something that leads you to so much pain and suffering?”

“Fate is something that’s up to interpretation, especially since it may or not be real,” Matt replies, with only a small moment of hesitation. “I think fate is neutral and that for some reason, or for no reason at all it becomes twisted. It yanks us toward something and that thing isn’t always good. But I suppose that I don’t need to tell you that.”

Shiro’s expression is unreadable as he nods along to every word. Matt knows Shiro well enough to interpret the nods of that of acknowledgment, not agreement. “What about the rest?” Shiro’s response to his answer his more questions. “What about what you said before the fate bit? Do you honestly believe that… Feel that?”

“I never say anything that I don’t mean,” Matt assures him. Wanting to comfort him, but also wanting to give him space, Matt slowly steps backward. To further emphasize his point, to prove his point, he adds, “You have my word on that Shiro. I don’t blame you for anything. I’m glad that I went on the Kerberos mission with you. Most importantly, I’m glad you’re my friend.” Matt continues to slowly step backward until he’s standing just outside of Shiro’s room. “I’m going to give you some space, no pun intended. So just think about what I said, okay?” Knowing that if he looks, if he sees Shiro’s face, he won’t be able to leave he closes the door which doesn’t seem to close quite fast enough on its own.

As he moves onto the next room, his mind spins a mile a minute. Did he say too much? Did he not say enough? Did he say the wrong thing? Their conversation, which was just moments ago, suddenly feels so far away. Hand hovering in front of the second door, he can’t help but laugh at himself. He’s one smooth talker, but he could use to take his own words to heart.

He blames himself. He’s the one that convinced Shiro, convinced his father to accept the Kerberos mission. His father had protested that he was old enough to retire. Shiro had mumbled something about how his skills weren’t quite good enough yet. Which was total bullshit, because the only person he’s ever seen come close to Shiro in pointing skills is Keith.

Matt’s the reason they got caught. He wasn’t fast enough. He was lagging behind, his father and Shiro practically in the ship while he was still out in the open. If he had been faster, if he had been stronger, they could’ve taken off. They could’ve escaped before they ever got caught in the first place.

He’s the reason why Shiro got hurt. He couldn't accept his own fate. His only response to the guard picking him was silence. He had merely stared, wide-eyed into the face of death. He had trembled, unable to bring himself to move. If he had moved things would have been different. He couldn’t have stopped Shiro from feeling the need to save him. However, he could’ve stopped him from having the chance to.

He could’ve done so much. He should’ve done so much. But instead, he let his emotions get the better of him. He had become paralyzed fear. His inability to move had been Shiro’s downfall. Poor Shiro. Poor, poor Shiro. He had saved him for what - for him to blow his second chance?

Suddenly realizing he’s traveling down a rather unpleasant rabbit hole, he brings his hand forward to tap on the door. There’s no answer. He moves onto the next door. And the next and the next… Pidge’s room ends up being the fifth door he tries.

Pidge answers their door wordlessly, weaving past robot bits to sit on their bed. With a small smile and expectant look on their face, Pidge pats the spot next to them. Such a small act of kindness… Of normally warms Matt’s heart. Navigating the treacherous land that is Pidge’s bedroom floor, he sits beside them.

As he sits beside Pidge, he isn’t sure what to expect. Would they scold him once more? Would they let him speak first? Their initial action turns out to be none of the above. It’s a bit awkward since they’re sitting side by side, but they hug him.

Matt takes a minute to enjoy the hug. Or enjoy it as much as he can. He can feel Pidge’s wait on him. HIs sensors tell him that Pidge is warm - even gives him an exact temperature. However, he can’t feel their hug. The lack of ability to feel them would hurt a lot less if he couldn’t remember the sensation. But he does. He doesn’t remember it clearly. He remembers it just well enough to tell he’s missing the sensation. He never realized how often the sense of touch was in his life until he didn’t have it anymore. Sometimes you don’t appreciate something until it’s gone.

When Pidge releases him from their hug, he speaks. “I’m sorry for not being the brother you expected. Most importantly, sorry for being a bit well, I don’t know…” The more he tries to apologize, to say something, the more he finds himself missing Pidge’s hug. “I’m sorry Pidge. I don’t know what to say or do. I never thought something like this would happen. It’s a lot…” his voice trails off. Everything thing that has happened to him may be overwhelming, but there is one thing that isn’t. “I’m glad you found me, Pidge. You’re the best sibling in the whole world- no the whole universe. So what do you say? Why don’t we put some of today’s heavier topics aside? Instead, why don’t we hang out? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

His words are greeted with a loud sniffle. “I like the sound of that. I also have an idea of how to cheer you up.” They rise from their bed to ruffle through a nearby dresser. After a few minutes of loud ruffling, they pull out and place some small paint cans on top of the dresser. “I was saving these to paint a droid I’m working on but I don’t really need all of the colors. Why don’t you pick a few colors that you like?” With a confused tilt of the head, Matt waits for them to explain. “I noticed that you’re wearing clothes. I can understand why you want to wear clothes but they seriously limit your mobility. I thought a solution to this could be painting on clothes, in a sense. You don’t have to but-”

Matt is quick to cut them off. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I like your idea.” Rising from the bed, he joins them at the dresser. He picks the colors within seconds. With paint cans in hand, he adds, “why don’t we recruit some help? You do have multiple paintbrushes, and they are quite large, but the more people we have the quicker it can be done.”

“Now you’re the one with the bright idea,” Pidge replies. With a playful nudge of the arm, they add, “Although I think part of your logic is wrong. What isn’t important is getting this done quickly. What is important is having fun and helping you make some new friends. You already know Shiro and Keith, but you don’t know Hunk and Lance. Hunk’s the Yellow paladin and Keith is the Red. Lance is a lot like you. He loves memes, makes horrible puns and flirting is one of his main hobbies. Hunk is really smart and also a great cook. His efforts are often wasted on food goo, though. There isn’t really any saving food goo. Food goo tastes like… God, I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’ll settle for taking the grossest thing you can think of, and then imagine eating it.” Pidge is clearly excited, talking a mile a minute. It’s a welcome change from earlier events and his own thoughts.

“That sounds disgusting,” Matt emits with a chuckle. “So know that you’ve told me a little bit about them, let’s go meet them. And to make it clear, they don’t have to help. Only if they want to. I won’t be offended if they don’t want to, especially after what you saw...”

“Hey,” Pidge says, their voice surprisingly soft. “That’s over then done with. Let’s focus on the now. Currently, the only thing you have to worry about is me. If you sometime in the future turn out to not be my brother, I will reprogram you to only talk in quotes from the Bee movie.”

“Oh god, not the Bee movie,” Matt whines, “I’m all for memes but that movie is just horrible! Too many bee puns! It seems that I am at your mercy, Pidgey.”

Chapter Text

As it turns out, Pidge’s friends are talented artists. “My parents own a bakery back on Earth,” Hunk informs him, as he paints the details of Matt’s chest plate with a careful hand, “Although I did my share of baking, my favorite part was decorating them. I spent most of my weekends visiting them, helping them put icing on cupcakes and cakes.”

“And I’m just naturally gifted at coloring,” Lance chirps, with a ridiculous grin. “That and I have a lot of siblings so I’m used to spending Saturday mornings helping them color in their coloring books. I may not be good at drawing but I’m good at staying within the lines.” Lance continues to dutifully paint his legs as Pidge sits on the ground, painting his feet. Matt isn’t sure why Pidge decided they should paint his body feet first, but he finds himself struggling to find something to do. He intended to help paint his body, but the only part that is left to paint, his face, is a bit difficult to paint himself. That is, unless he had a mirror. Which of course he doesn’t have.

As if on cue, Keith enters the bridge. Despite initially raising a confused eyebrow, the eyebrow soon lowers upon watching Lance, Pidge and Hunk work. Wordlessly approaching them, Keith bends to pick up the spare paint brush that rests on the floor beside Pidge. Eyes flickering from the rest of Matt’s body to his head, Keith carefully steps around Pidge, and stands just to the left of Hunk.

Since Keith doesn’t offer any kind of greeting, so Matt decides to offer one of his own. “Hey.” He doesn’t expect any sort of response. Keith being present, Keith being willing to help, his more than enough for him. For him to talk would be icing on the cake, so to speak. Keith seems to ignore his words, favoring painting Matt’s face over speaking. However, as he soon runs out of head to paint, it becomes clear that he will need to say something or leave. Matt wouldn’t be surprised if he just left. It would be a very Keith thing to do, to step away to calm himself down or to avoid an unfavorable interaction.

Keith ends up being full of surprises. Joining Lance, Hunk and Pidge in admiring their paint job, he finally speaks. “You’re missing something.” Suddenly seeming to favor his own hand over a brush, Keith dips his index finger in paint and brushes it across Matt’s face. “The Matt I knew always smiled. You didn’t seem right without it.” With a small, fragile smile of his own, Keith leaves.

“That was…” Lance begins, earning him a loud shush from Hunk. Hunk may be capable of preventing Lance from finishing his sentence, but there’s no stopping Pidge.

“That was pretty gay,” Pidge remarks, earning themself loud amused laughter from Lance and Hunk. “I think Keith likes you. I know you like him. You had the horrible habit of sending me emotional texts about your crushes at midnight.”

Before he can lie, try to deny Pidge’s comment, Lance is asking questions. “Wait, really? I’ve got to know more. I’m a sucker for romance stories. Where did you first meet Keith? When did you first become friends? When did you realize you like like him?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Matt asks, with an embarrassed laugh. “Also, weren’t you convinced that I am a robot?”

“Yeah, was ,” Lance retorts. “Now give me, I mean us , details. I want to know everything. After you give us the background story I want to know how you plan on confessing to him. On the off chance you don’t have any ideas, I’m full of them.”

“Uh oh, looks like Lance’s new hobby is setting you up with Keith. You better answer his questions, do something about your crush, or make yourself scarce,” Hunk notes, motioning to the door with his eyes. Ah, so that’s the solution he suggests.

“In that case,” Matt replies, stepping around Pidge, I’m going to my room and recharge. Assuming I have a room, that is. We didn’t talk much after what happened… Would it be okay for me to have a room? It wouldn’t need to have much. I don’t really sleep so the only pieces of furniture that I would really need is a desk and chair.”

As suddenly as the mood was lifted, it grows dark. Once again, it becomes blatantly obvious how not human he is. All humans need sleep. Granted, some fall asleep easier than others and some sleep more than others. However it doesn’t change the fact that they eventually fall asleep, from some amount of time. Such an act is something Matt can’t accomplish. Sure he can lower his funitions, he can dim his vision and hearing but that’s not the same. He won’t ever drift off, he’ll never dream. Matt never realized how relaxing, how refreshing it was to sleep until he couldn’t anymore.

“Of course you get a room,” a familiar voice says. Amongst the chaos of his body getting painted and Lance’s teasing, no one, or at least not Matt, noticed Shiro enter the room. “Why don’t you come with me and find you one? If we can’t find you one you could always share a room with me, like we did back at the Garrison.

“Oh my god they were roommates,” Lance whispers, just to get elbowed in the ribs by Hunk.

Lance is nice, but his teasing is not. Matt happily leaves the room, with Shiro in the lead. For the first few steps there is near silence, nothing but the sound of their footsteps. However, Shiro soon interrupts the near silence. “You look nice, with the new paint job. It looks a lot like what you were wearing, accept less bulky. It suits you. And so does that cloak of yours. You gonna keep it? I can recall that you’re quite the Star Wars fan.”

It takes Matt a minute to process what Shiro is saying. His words, the subject of the conversation is a lot different than that of their earlier one. He’s tempted to question it, but he bites his tongue - metaphorically speaking. Favoring to instead have a light hearted conversation with his dear friend (and additional crush) he goes along with it. “Thanks. I probably am, to be honest. It makes me feel like Luke Skywalker. You know, if he fought with a staff instead of a lightsaber. Hey, do you think lightsabers exist somewhere in this universe, or do you think I need to invent one?”

Shiro hums, taking a minute to ponder it over. “I’d like to think there’s a pretty good chance that they exist somewhere. On the off chance that they don’t exist, there’s no one better to invent it than you.” A pause, a playful smile, “except maybe Pidge.”

“Well maybe I’ll throw you a real curve-ball,” Matt retorts, “and invent it with Pidge. We’ll make a whole series of lightsabers and become rich. We’ll live like royalty, then again I suppose we already are. This is a castle, after all.”

“A castle-ship,” Shiro corrects with a chuckle. Unknowingly the two of them had come to stop in the middle of the hallway, favoring talking to each other over searching for a room. At the same time, Matt’s desire for escape, for some time alone, had been replaced for a wanting of conversation - of talking with Shiro.

“Sorry, a castle-ship.”

At his response, and likely the realization they have lost sight of their goal, Shiro awkwardly coughs. “Not that I don’t enjoy talking to you, but let’s get walking again. Your room isn’t going to find itself. Then again, this is space so I suppose anything is possible.” Shiro takes the lead again, and Matt follows. This time, unlike their first few steps, their conversation is more on topic.

“So I know where all of the paladin’s rooms are, and assumably the two after that is likely the Altean’s rooms… How many rooms is this castle-ship supposed to have? What are they all meant for? I highly doubt all of them could be bedrooms. Then again I don’t know much about Altean culture so maybe they had a practice of having lots of kids… or extended families living under the same roof.”

His thoughts earn him a chuckle from Shiro. “I can understand your curiosity, but I think you’re overthinking things. But maybe instead of me explaining the castle maybe you should save your questions for Allura and Coran. However, I wouldn’t mind giving you a tour. If you wanted one, that is. I know you said you need to recharge… I could always give you a tour after you recharge, or we could wait and do it tomorrow. Assuming you want a tour, that is.”

“Now you’re the one overthinking things,” Matt replies with a chuckle of his own. “A tour would be nice, but I also could really use to recharge… So after I recharge sounds good. I recharge pretty fast - faster than that iphone of yours. How many times did I tell you that android is better than apple?”

“Too many to count. You were quite persistent,” Shiro says, coming to a stop outside an unfamiliar door. The door appears older, and more worn than the rest. With a curious tilt of his head, Matt waits for Shiro to explain the room choice. “You said that you didn’t really need a bed, and I figured you might appreciate some space… Especially after everything that’s happened today so I decided to guide you to the old nursery. Allura told me a while back that after she grew older that it was made into a study, one that mostly her father used. It’s a bit small, but I figured you might like it. You can read or build to your heart’s content in this room. Well, that and recharge. Obviously.”

“Shiro I’m sure the room is fine. I’m going to go in and recharge. I’ll find you when I’m done, okay?” As much as Shiro’s rambling is adorable, as much as he would love to talk to him more, there’s no way he’s letting Shiro enter his room. Or perhaps more accurately put, there’s no way he’s letting Shiro watch him recharge.

Recharging may not be scandalous, but Matt finds it uncomfortable. It is yet another reminder of how much he’s changed. Of how much of his humanity he has lost. “See you in like ten minutes… Twenty at the most,” Matt says, giving Shiro a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Before he can reply Matt enters the room, locking the door behind him.

As soon as he steps in, he realizes Shiro is right. The room is small, the smallness only emphasized by one wall that is entirely comprised of books. The other walls are painted with a soothing, almost sky blue color. One wall in particular has paintings on it, the creatures it depicts looking suspiciously similar to Earth deer and rabbits. That is, if deer had four eyes and rabbits had wings.

Turning his attention away from the walls, he makes his way to the desk in the corner of the room. It, like the rest of the room is pretty clean, especially considering how old the legend of Voltron (and assumably the castle) is. Carefully sitting in the chair, he begins to look through the papers that are strewn across the desk.

Most of them are written in Altean, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Using his body’s archival data, he begins to translate the papers. Translating them is quick and easy with his processors, but a bit confusing. What he translated is nonsense. There appears to be no rhyme or reason to it. He’s tempted to throw the papers away. They’re gibberish translation is not useful in the slightest. Then again, he can’t help but wonder how the papers haven’t fallen apart. The legend of Voltron is 10,000 years old. If the paper is even as remotely as old as the legend, as the castle, the paper should be little more than dust.

Suddenly dying to know why the papers have lasted so long and what they contain, Matt plugs himself into the wall before going all out. Comparing the words to his database of codes, he waves his hands over the papers, using various types of scanners to try to detect any anomalies. There has to be something different about the alien paper. It may feel like Earth paper, but no Earth paper could last this long. Does the answer simply lie in the fact that alien trees could biologically different from Earth trees? Or is the answer more complex explanation?

With a determined growl, he diverts most of his energy to his database comparison and scanning, he hopes to speed up his mystery solving. It does speed things up, but it also scares him. The unforeseen consequence of diverting his power is that has to pull energy from other places, places such as his vision and hearing. Suddenly, it’s like having Keith shut him down again.

Sure it’s not exactly what happened earlier. He’s able to move and he has control over whether he gets his vision, hearing and various senses back. This doesn’t stop it from scaring him, though. Restoring has power as quickly as he diverted it, he returns to his slightly slower processing speed. Although the speed isn’t nearly as fast as he wants it to be, it’s better than feeling scared - feeling helpless.

Deciding to make the most of his processing time, he tries his best to zone out - the closest thing to sleeping for him. Just like actively trying to sleep, trying to zone out works just as well. His focus seems to sharpen, and he can’t seem to stop thinking - even if it’s about the stupidest things.

his mind wanders, seeming to search for content instead of the nothingness he desires. For some reason his brain first jumps to his first and only pet goldfish. Apparently pet fish are a lot of work. His fishes dies within a matter of days. Matt had been in middle school at the time and was devastated by the loss. He hand picked his small, but nonetheless loveable goldfish. It was only right for him to chose the fish - Pidge had been able to choose their pet dog. When a classmate of his made fun of him for adoring his pet fish, he renamed it to make it sound cooler. Hence, King Titus became Luke Skywalker.

Luke Skywalker reminds him of Shiro and Keith. The Halloween before the Kerberos mission he convinced them to go trick or treating as Star Wars characters. He went as Luke Skywalker, Keith went as  Han Solo and Shiro went as Chewbacca because it was the only costume he could fit into. Shiro almost went as Princess Leia but he got stuck in the costume. It took all of his and Keith’s energy to pull Shiro free of the surprisingly tight outfit. Due to that incident, they had started to call any Princess Leia costume a “Princess Death.” Despite the nickname, Shiro tried on a Princess Leia costume again- one that was Christmas themed. Shiro managed to fit in that one, but argued that he looked more like a Christmas tree than Princess Leia.

Shiro’s and Keith’s participation was a welcome change. Before then, before he met them, he didn’t have many friends. This doesn’t go to mean that he didn’t have many friends. Rather, his friends never stayed. They were fleeting and temporary, like blossoming flowers. Having always been a bit of a talker, he connects with people easily. He can make a conversation out of anything. However, there are some things he prefers to talk about, things such as space and science and conspiracy theories.

The older Matt gets the more people seem to prefer to talk about anything but what he wishes to. They want to talk about Netflix, sports or video games. Sure he may like those things but he likes them for different reasons. He likes Netflix for Star Wars and documentaries, while his friends like it for Game of Thrones. He finds sports boring unless it’s an exaggerated sports anime like Haikyuu. As for video games, he would much rather play Undertale than Call of Duty. A lack of common ground isn’t the only thing that separates him from his peers. There is also a difference in studying, in work ethic.

No one in his classes studies as often or as long as him. Few if any people in his clases get grades anywhere close to him. He makes the mistake of showing a friend his grades. It backfires, he becomes a “teacher’s pet,” a “know it all.” The only good thing to come out of it all is the reinforced determination to get into the Garrison.

The Garrison isn’t perfect. In fact it’s far from it. People like Commander Iverson are extremely picky and irritable. He finds himself having to bite his tongue, Iverson frustrating him so much he’s tempted on a daily basis to cuss at him. Some of his peers are no better, seeming to purposely piss off such intrustors. The only people that are worse than the antagonizers are the people who ride on the coattails of their parents. They’re accepted because of their parents, and any mistakes are forgiven for a lump sum of money.

Despite this, there is a general improvement in his peers. More people are interested in space and the mysteries surrounding it. More people study, they have to - Astrophysics isn’t something you can bullshit your way through. He meets one of his good friends, one of his long  lasting friends in his Astrophysics class.

Takashi Shirogane is a responsible man with a strong work ethic. He’s like the god tier of teacher’s pets - perfect in appearance, behavior and grades. Matt’s convinced he’s got magic powers because Commander Iverson never yells at him. He may give him the stink eye once in a while, but never seems to get overly annoyed with him. Matt wishes he could say the same - Iverson yells at him for something at least once a week.

As for Keith, he was a friend of a friend. A friend of Shiro’s, to be exact. However when Keith needed help with a problem that only he had managed to solve, they got to know he eachother. They grew closer. After a couple of years, the three of them became close friends, or perhaps more accurately put, best friends.

A repetitive dinging, like that of an iphone notification sound pulls Matt out of his memories. He found something. As soon as the match is confirmed, he begins to translate the coded piece.

The code is so complex that he has to translate it sentence by sentence, at a painfully slow speed. At this point he doesn’t care. He’s too determined to learn what secrets the papers hold. Lifting the papers close to his face, he eagerly awaits the completed translation. Just what important secrets could the mysterious, magical papers hold.