Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The base wasn’t anything like Keith expected.

It wasn't a logical thing - the base itself was essentially a normal building; nothing remotely special stuck out about it to catch the eye, unless one was looking for it. But something surreal occupied the air, living in the cracks between the bricks and the shadows of the building, leaving Keith with the growing weight of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Something was different. Something was wrong here, an unsettling feeling embedded just beneath the surface, like the moment before the monster came out of hiding in a horror movie, or the calm presence that settled over a city before a storm hit. A small part of Keith began urging him to run away. It grew louder with every tentative step he took towards the entrance to the base, making it increasingly more difficult to move further.

Until, when Keith reached the line of trees that marked the barrier between the Galra’s territory and everywhere else, he found that his feet were rooted in place. The unease boiling in his stomach threatened to explode.

Keith’s hand slowly rose to his chest. His heart was pounding. Maybe he should -

No. He had to do this. Despite the danger, despite this strange feeling holding him back for no reason.

In the same moment of defiance, Keith stepped out into the open courtyard.

And the unease, the dread...was gone.

Suddenly, he could move forward with ease. Brushing off the strange experience - he had more important things to do than brood - he trudged onward. He found it strange just how empty the place was. There was no one anywhere: no goons, prisoners, or guards, except - there. A flash of purple in the corner of his eye. A man appeared out of the shadows, making his way towards the entrance of the main building: a massive, unwelcoming grey thing in the center of the otherwise empty courtyard. Keith silently cursed himself; he should’ve searched for people before blindly walking into the open.

Keith held his breath, refusing to move a muscle as the man approached the building. Perhaps it was luck, the darkness of nighttime, or maybe the man had a severe case of tunnel vision, but he didn't notice Keith at all.

He watched as the man entered the building, knife in hand. Keith stealthily slipped inside the doors after him.

He had always been a bit of a master at muffling his own footsteps, so it was no surprise when the man didn't notice Keith until his knife was at his throat.

“Take me to the records room,” Keith whispered. He could feel the man's swallow through the blade. “Now.”

The man shuffled forward, too slow. Keith didn't have time for too slow. He shoved the man slightly, and he began walking faster, but still stiffly. Keith’s knife was set at the small of the man’s back, a silent reminder not to stop.

They didn't encounter anyone else on their way to the records room. Perhaps the man was smart enough to avoid people, or perhaps it was pure luck. Keith couldn’t care less either way. He had his mind set on one thing; how he got it didn't matter to him at all.

Keith let the knife drop to his side, although it remained in his hand. The man stood frozen, staring at Keith with the pathetic face of a puppy facing a snarling, angry wolf. Keith kept his face stagnant as he reached down into himself, towards that ever-present heat inside of him. He glanced at the closed door of the records room, now hidden behind a wall of flame. The man slowly followed Keith’s gaze, letting out a shaky, broken breath as he beheld the fire.

Keith hit the man hard with the butt of his blade, and he crumpled to the floor immediately without even a gasp of breath. Time was of the essence. So he didn’t bother pushing him aside and set right to work.

Keith turned to face the large computer that made up an entire wall of the small room. He didn't know much about computers, just bits and pieces he'd gleaned from his father years ago, but he'd learned enough to navigate through the interface. Keith grabbed the man’s hand and placed it on the dais. The screen lit up, and a spinning buffer symbol appeared. Beneath it was a white bar that was flashing and slowly growing longer. Keith tapped his foot anxiously - this was taking too long. He bit his lip and glanced to the door, which was still blocked by his fire. He tried not to think about the likelihood that someone was coming, that the guards would soon make their rounds and notice something was off.

He felt the dread in his stomach return when the computer finally granted him access. Keith sighed in relief.

After a few seconds, he located what he was looking for: the prisoner files. Surprisingly, there were only four. Usually Keith was faced with the files of hundreds and hundreds of prisoners, each different, making it nearly impossible for him to find what he wanted. Not that I ever do, he thought bitterly.

Until now. Because right there, the first listing on the screen, was the face of Takashi Shirogane. Keith’s eyes went wide, but he tried not to let his excitement get a hold of him. Did that mean Shiro was currently there, or that he had been there? Keith clicked on the file. The picture of Shiro in a prisoner’s uniform took up most of the page. To the right of it were a few small paragraphs of text, including Shiro’s serial number, among a few other unimportant things that Keith couldn't quite identify. He scrolled down, and found something about Shiro’s whereabouts. According to the page, Shiro had been held in this very base until yesterday.

Keith cursed loudly. He'd been on Shiro’s trail for months, and to be so close, yet so far...it was frustrating. He read on.

Prisoner 117-9875 was successful. Transferred to G.Garrison-1 as of June 17th…

...which was yesterday. But the Garrison - Keith nearly laughed. It wasn't too far from here. Hell, he could probably reach it in several days. As for whatever “successful” meant...he didn't have a clue. But it didn't matter, Keith was so close. He closed out of the program, leaving the computer at the blank screen it had been when he entered the room.

Suddenly, red lights began flashing, and a loud alarm blared. He glanced at the screen again. In large red letters, flashing in time with the lights, it read INTRUDER ALERT. ROOM 112.

Shit.

Keith could only assume that's where he was now. He glanced behind him. The fire at the door frame was still there, and the man was still in an unconscious heap at his side. If the only person who saw him was currently unconscious, then how did the alarms detect him? He played everything just right. He’d been careful, like always. He hadn’t been caught, at least. He’d never been caught.

The alarms took on a higher pitch, and he began to hear muffled shuffling outside the door. Keith frantically spun around, searching for some other exit.

But all he found was a flashing red light in the corner of the room - a security camera. Pointing directly at him.

His eyes widened. So that’s how. He cursed himself for being so stupid. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be in and out in under ten minutes, no one ever knowing he was there until he was long gone. That was how it went for every other Galra base he’d broken into, and it was just his rotten luck that the one time he finds any inkling of what happened to Shiro was the same time that he got trumped by a security camera, of all things.

The footsteps outside grew louder, and voices began to join them. It didn't matter if he was seen, Keith told himself, he had already gotten what he needed. He had more information about Shiro than he’d ever had before. He'd broken into and out of plenty of bases. It shouldn’t be too much harder to do with a few lousy guards after him.

Keith clutched his knife, taking it out of the slit on his belt. He hoisted up the bandanna that covered his mouth and nose, quelled the fire at the door, and barged out of the record room.

And came face to face with about five guards running towards him, all with purple armor. The guards were blocking the only way he knew how to get out. Behind him was a maze of hallways.

Keith stepped forward, towards the guards. He swung his knife sideways, weaving a huge arc of flame in its path from wall to wall. The guards stepped back, startled, breaking formation and forming a hole wide enough for Keith to slip through. He smiled under his bandana and sprinted forward through the hole, pushing the guards next to it aside in swaths of fire.

Keith made a sharp left, then came face to face with an intersection. Keith stumbled for a moment. He glanced behind him. The guards were nowhere in sight, but based on the sounds of their footsteps and shouts, they weren’t too far behind. Keith quickly took off his shoe and threw it down the left pathway, then bounded down the other one and prayed it was the right choice.

It wasn’t too long before Keith found another intersection, made a left, and came face to face with a row of purple-clad guards.

Keith stopped immediately, and there was a tiny moment of silence when the guards and Keith stared at each other before the one in the middle pointed a finger and shouted, “Seize him!”

The guards seemed to break out of their haze and charged at Keith. His eyes hardened. Before they could touch him, he twisted around and began running in the opposite direction, only to crash right into another guard. They both toppled over, Keith landing right on top of the startled guard, who let out a dignified oof.

Before Keith could even adjust to what happened, several guards grabbed at his arms and pulled him off of the other guard, who jumped to his feet with what Keith knew was a shaken expression, even though only the guards’ mouths were visible beneath their helmets.

Keith growled. They forced his hands behind his back, and Keith thrashed and yelled, flames bursting everywhere. The guards held him firm, not even fazed by the fire. Keith heard the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clicking in place.

The minute the cuffs were in place, Keith’s flames died out. He tried summoning more, but each time not even a puff of smoke appeared. No matter how deep he reached into that molten, ever-burning pit in his core, nothing would happen. It was as if his fire had gone cold. Dread seeped in and replaced his flames, trumping even the remnants of ashes they left behind. The guards pulled his bandana up to cover his eyes and tied another cloth around his head and over his mouth, gagging him. He struggled with the cuffs and against the firm grip of the guards, only to feel the pressure of what could only be a gun on his back.

It was only then that he realized it was the first gun he’d seen in the base. Or rather, felt. “Move,” said deep voice to his right. Keith stayed still, shouting back a protest that only came out as a muffled shout. “Move!” The guard shouted more forcefully, shoving him with the gun. Keith tripped and stumbled forward a step. The motion only made it easier for the guard to get him moving.

They led him down several hallways, and Keith lost track of the amount of times they turned.

There was the sound of a door creaking open and slamming shut, and the guards finally stopped walking. Keith grunted as they shoved him to his knees. He could sense them stepping back.

He could also sense that there was someone else in the room, someone who was walking toward him.

“Ma’am, we've captured the intruder,” said one of the guards.

The room was silent except for the clicking of shoes against hard tile.

“You must be the rat that's been causing us trouble recently,” the woman in front of him growled, “I've been dying,” she yanked down Keith’s bandanna, “to see you.”

The woman was smiling maniacally. Her eyes were ridden with a strange spark that Keith could only describe as madness. Her hair was stark white, long and curly. She had tan skin, scarred in several places. Below her black eyes was a scratch that was bleeding, though she didn't appear to care.

“Well,” she turned her back to him and picked up an orange tablet that had been perched on the table behind her, then faced him again with a hand on her waist. “Let me see...broke out of the Garrison. Nearly destroyed ten Galra bases, getting away every single time until you finally got caught at this one.”

She giggled. “It was only a matter of time, anyway. No one - and I mean no one - screws with us and gets away alive,” she placed a finger under his chin, digging her sharp fingernails into his neck. “You've been quite annoying, scurrying around and digging through things that aren't yours like the rat you are.”

“At least I'm not a murderer,” Keith said. “At least I don't imprison people for no reason.”

“You know nothing of the Galra cause,” she said softly, no less sting in her voice. “If it were up to me, you'd be lying on the floor, dead. But it's not, so I won’t do anything because I'm apart of something bigger than just me,” she stared at him, eye twitching. “Do you know what it's like to be more than just a thorn in our side? We're changing the world. You…people like you should be grateful.”

Keith spat at her feet. She glanced down with her eyes, raising her chin a bit higher. Then, without lifting her gaze from the spit on the floor, she said, “Get rid of him.”

Keith felt a sharp pain in his head, and then everything went dark.

• • •

When he woke up, Keith wasn't in that room anymore. He wasn't even sure if he was still in the same Galra base, though there was no doubt that he was in the Galra’s possession.

He was lying down on some cold, hard surface - metal. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself squinting up at a bright light on the ceiling. His eyes adjusted, and he could make out a bare white ceiling, meeting identical walls. He couldn't see much past that.

He tried to get up, only to find that he was strapped to the metal surface. He couldn't move his hands or feet, nothing would budge. Even his head was bound in place. He was also gagged, he noted. He tried burning away the bindings, but they wouldn't catch, wouldn't show any strain at all. He closed his eyes and sensed for any people in his proximity, but something felt...muffled, as if something was blocking his power.

Great. He was immobile and powerless, with no idea where he was. Keith looked around with his eyes, since he couldn't even move his head from side to side. There was only one thing remotely interesting in the room: a camera, white like everything else, nestled in the middle of the corner between the wall with the door and the wall to his left. He could barely make out the small, blinking red light that told him it was recording.

Keith still couldn't sense people anywhere near him, and the block that seemed to be placed on his power wasn't letting up. There was no doubt that the Galra were watching him. Wherever they were, it couldn't be too far.

Since there was no conceivable thing he could do, he decided to stare down the camera. They'd know he was awake by now, maybe someone would show up. Someone would have to show up sooner or later.

As the seconds blurred into minutes, and Keith ran through what he saw of the last base he went to. He couldn't shake the fact that everything about it was normal, except for the strange feeling it had about it. He tried to recall anything strange that he saw that wasn't just a feeling, but couldn't think of anything. The sense of dread was still present in the pit of his stomach, though it was more faded and felt different than what he had experienced at the base.

What could the Galra possibly be doing there? The base itself was in a strange location - the middle of a forest whose name was forgotten. Most bases were in urban areas, meant to strike fear in the hearts of the people living there. Meant to serve as a reminder of who the Galra were and what they'd done.

Unless...it was top secret. Unless whatever the Galra did there, whatever they did to Shiro and the other three prisoners, wasn't meant to be a reminder. The report on Shiro ran through his mind: Prisoner 117-9875 was successful.

Successful how? What had they done to Shiro? He was still alive, he was at the Garrison, but why would they send him there?

The Garrison was meant for people like Keith. People with powers. The Garrison is where they sent the ones they didn't kill. But Shiro...he didn't have powers. The Garrison had some of the best defenses of any Galra base, but Keith hadn't seen any prisoners without powers in his time there. Although, it had been a while since he'd been to the place, so perhaps things had changed.

Keith hated the idea of going back, but he'd do it for Shiro. He knew that it'd be harder to get in and out, but he had no choice. It would be the first place he'd go once he got out of wherever he was.

That was when he heard something, someone. Several someones. Keith could hear their footsteps cutting through the silence that had previously only been broken only by his breaths.

The door glowed at the edges, sliding open quietly. In the doorframe were three individuals: purple clad Galra guards. A part of Keith was ready to try to set them aflame - despite whatever was afflicting him - when the one in the middle took off his helmet.

“Hi, Keith,” said a boy who looked nothing like a Galra soldier, “We’re breaking out of this place. And you're coming with us.”

Chapter Text

They spoke in hushed voices in the cafeteria.

“Yeah, I think. That’s what the guard said. His friend said so, too.”

“Ok, but you're absolutely sure? It's not everyday we get one new guy - let alone two, both in solitary confinement,” Lance said.

Laila looked him in the eye. “Are you saying you doubt me? I'm not new to this. I know what I'm doing. And I'm never wrong, got it?”

Lance put his hands up, glancing to the guard at the entrance. “No, no, jeez. I believe you,” he said, “And you say he's in the...intelligence wing?”

“Yes,” she said. “He arrived last night, they put him in a repurposed storage room.”

“Don't we have enough cells? Why use that?”

“We don't, actually. You haven't noticed people missing lately? Where do you think they've gone?”

“Well-”

“They've put them in solitary confinement,” she spat, “And I’d better go, lest both of us...disappear.”

With that, she promptly picked up her lunch tray and went to throw it out, but Lance reached out. “Laila, wait!” he said, a bit too loud, perhaps. “Thanks.” He winked at her suggestively, smirking.

Laila’s glare could've killed a lesser man, but Lance was arrogant. Lance just grinned as she turned around, threw out her lunch tray, and walked out of the cafeteria, a couple of guards at her heels.

Lance picked up his own tray and left the now-empty table, then sat down at another one. Across from him sat the only other two people he trusted in this entire place.

“So, how'd it go with Laila?” Hunk asked.

Lance leaned into his hand, sighing and toying with his mashed potatoes, which resisted as he ran his fork through them. “Well, ya know. It's Laila. What do you expect?”

“I expect you got everything we needed from her?” Pidge peered at him with her glasses at the tip of her nose.

“I did,” Lance said.

“So it's true? Keith Kogane here already?” Hunk asked.

Lance and Pidge shushed him, and Lance said, “Yeah, that's what Laila said. She also told me where he was.”

“Guess that means we’ll have to move up the plan a bit,” Pidge said.

Lance nodded and leaned back in his chair. “But I don't think we should discuss this here, out in the open. Laila can get away with it, but she's Laila, she can do whatever she wants and they won't give her more than a slap on the wrist.”

Hunk shrugged, and Pidge muttered, “I guess so.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes, Lance having to force himself to get anything down. The food there was absolutely disgusting, obviously the cheapest any money could buy. He figured it was probably made weeks ago, judging by the color of the potatoes and beef. Hunk barely ate anything, but Pidge managed to eat her entire plate. Once everyone finished - or at least wouldn't eat anymore - they got up together and left for their cell.

The Galra didn't care about gender. They shoved several random people in the same cell together, often with only one bed, and Lance happened to end up with Pidge and Hunk. He thanked whatever gods still existed for being that lucky. He could easily have ended up with one of the more burly, violent inmates and be stuck sleeping on the cold floor for the rest of his miserable time at the Garrison. At least Pidge and Hunk were willing to rotate, if not share the bed, and they were also nice.

Which was great, because Lance probably wouldn't have lasted a day without them. Especially considering he was rather scrawny, and the cuffs they placed on every inmate’s wrists constrained them from using their powers.

Indeed, Lance was lucky.

All three entered the cell, the door shutting behind them and three guards stepped in front, one for each of them, blocking the entrance. The cell was small. There was an old, worn rug on the floor, something that Pidge won from another inmate in a bet. It made sleeping down there a bit more bearable. In the corner sat a sad bed that had definitely seen better days, the sheets and pillow strewn on it in a heap. No windows, leaving their only escape through the door that was constantly watched by guards.

And of course, the camera that had been implanted after Keith Kogane had broken out.

They once again spoke softly, making sure everyone knew the plan. They were vague enough that an inquisitive ear hopefully wouldn't have given it a second thought, and Lance had made sure that no one except for the three of them would've known anything.

Lance nonchalantly slipped the small chip he had gotten from Laila to Hunk, who clutched it tightly in his hands. He did the same for Pidge, who looked to the side as she took it. Then Lance stood and looked to Hunk.

“Wow, do you even remember how the Galra came into power, Hunk?” Lance said, picking up from a conversation they had been having during the ordeal. “I bet you don't. You're an idiot, Garrett. You-”

Hunk lurched forward and grabbed Lance’s shirt. “I'm not,” he spat, “Besides, you can't even get a girl to like you. Don't think I didn't see Laila flip you off as she walked away, Lance, so you're in no place to call me an idiot-”

Lance growled, and he punched Hunk straight in the face. “You don't know half of what happened!” Lance yelled, “She's still warming up to me! At least, I can do something about it, but you're still-”

He was interrupted by a fist slamming into his face, forcing Lance’s chin up in a painful jerk. Stars flashed in his eyes, but Lance quickly composed himself and tackled Hunk, throwing him to the wall. The two began cursing at each other, punching and kicking while Pidge yelled and pounded at the door.

Lance could see the door open out of the corner of his eye, and Pidge pointed to him and Hunk, who were still fighting. Two guards bounded in and seized Hunk and Lance, separating them when the two boys tried to attack each other despite being held by the guards.

Lance saw Pidge shaking as he and Hunk were led out of the cell, past the third guard who remained at the entrance.

He kept his face set in an angry frown, stealing glances at Hunk whenever he could.

They approached a corner, where the cells finally ended and the maze of hallways of the Garrison started.

It happened to be one of the only places in the entire base that wasn't monitored, and was the closest one to their cell.

Hunk remembered. Before they could turn the corner, Hunk broke out of the guards hold, twisting his body so he faced him. He slammed his wrists, cuffs first, into the guard's head, and he toppled to the ground without a word. Before the other could react, Hunk turned on him, and two unconscious guards in purple armor laid in a heap at Lance’s feet.

Hunk flexed his fingers. “Wow, that chip really worked,” he whispered, “These cuffs are practically useless now.”

“Not entirely useless.” Lance gestured to the two guards on the floor. Hunk smiled.

They hoisted up the guards, placing one’s hand on a spot on the wall that made up a side of the corner. Instantly, it glowed, and a section of the wall slid open to reveal a hidden closet. They quickly undressed the guards and took their uniforms, shoving them into the closet and closed it shut. Lance and Hunk walked quietly back to their cell. Lance tried not to focus too hard on his heart beating violently in his chest or the loud sound of his footsteps as they approached the door.

They stood in front of the third guard. He opened his mouth, but before he could even take another breath, Hunk heaved his cuff down on the guard’s head, and he toppled to the ground. Lance smiled, picking up the guard’s hand and placing it beside the door to their cell.

It instantly slid open.

Pidge was sitting on the bed. She looked them over, then glanced to the camera. Sure enough, it had stopped blinking, the red light nowhere to be seen.

Hunk shoved the guard inside with his foot, and Pidge quickly took his uniform just like Lance and Hunk had with the other guards. When she was finished, she placed the guard underneath the bed and walked out to join them.

“Those chips,” she said softly to Lance, “Nice.”

Lance smiled. They walked quickly towards the intelligence wing, which, if Laila was right, was east of the cells, all the way on the other side of the facility. There would be no guard in front of their cell, and it was only a matter of time until the Galra noticed that the camera in their cell was out.

They walked quickly, Lance remembering Laila’s instructions. Right, right, left, straight, right, straight, left, he thought to himself, running it through his head over and over.

He knew the intelligence wing was heavily guarded, but he hadn't really thought about it much until he got there.

They were approached by two guards as they got to the entrance.

“We have orders from Yuzon. We must retrieve information about several prisoners who appear to have connections to high command,” Lance said.

Luckily, the guards bought his bluff and stepped aside to let them through. They followed the last of Laila’s instructions, and found a silver door with ingrained letterings on the top corner that read 11347-A. Laila had told them that the door would open to anyone’s touch, since it wasn't in the main facility and wasn't an important room.

He looked to Pidge, who nodded, indicating that she had already taken down the camera in the room with her power. So Lance placed his hand on the panel to the side of the door, and it slid open.

He took off his helmet as the raven-haired boy stared at them with his brow furrowed, his eyes blazing with flames.

“Hi, Keith,” Lance said calmly, “we’re breaking out of this place. And you're coming with us.”

They walked in the room, the door closing behind us. Pidge and Hunk took off their helmets as well, and Keith’s eyes darted to each of them in turn, soaking up every detail. Hunk tore off the bindings that secured Keith to the metal plate in the center of the room, and Lance took off the gag.

“Why'd you…” Keith started, his voice raspy, as if he hadn't used it in a while.

Pidge answered. “You're the only person who's ever broken out of this dump.”

“And it'd be nice to have your help if we're gonna do it,” Lance finished. “Also, it's kind of obligatory. The only guy who’s ever managed to get out gets his ass thrown back in? We might as well do something about it.”

Keith seemed at a loss for words. Lance could almost see the thoughts spread across his face: are these people trustworthy? Should he go with them?

“Hey, you done?” Lance nudged him. “We don't exactly have all the time in the world.”

“I'm really at the Garrison?”

“Yes,” said Hunk, “but we’re getting you out.”

They all put their helmets back on, turning to leave, when Keith said, “I'll help you only if you help me.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. “And that would be…”

“There's a prisoner here, Takashi Shirogane. He should be new, came here June 17th,” said Keith, “we break him out too.”

“Fine,” said Lance. They'd need all the help they could get, anyway, and it was worth it if it meant they had Keith. “Now, let’s go.”