Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No way. No way Keith frickin Kogane is-”

“-Little, yes. Lance, stop, you're scaring him.” 

Light poured in from where the door was open in the dimly lit room. Two figures hovered at the doorway as he curled in on himself, from where he was sitting on the floor with his back against his bed, trying to disappear into the floor. He had hoped that his teammates coming in and probably judging the shit out of him would snap him out of headspace. But if that wasn't working…

He was well and truly in headspace, and he was going to have to ride it out. Looks like laying low, hunkering down and praying he woke up big wasn't an option anymore. He just hoped he could have enough control not to embarass himself.

Fuck. He really hadn't intended on his teammates figuring out he was a little. Hell, the Garrison had never caught him, letting him pass as a neutral for the 3 years he had been enrolled.

Of course, Shiro had known after a couple of simulators ran too long and Keith dropped. Hard. It probably wasn’t even the first time Shiro had suspected. He sucked (hah) at keeping his thumb away from his mouth, and it was always a close call for bathroom breaks. He wasn't good at hiding it back then, young but determined not to let his littleness affect ‘adult’ life.

It wasn't that he hated littles. Being a child in the foster care system, there was no shortage of littles. They would come to stay at the group homes before presentation and when they inevitably presented as a little, Keith saw what happened. People who had been their friend, suddenly didn't want to hang out anymore, and the people that hated you anyways would call you a bed-wetter, a booger eater, or some other equally uncreative name. The name they called you didn't have to be creative to destroy your reputation. 

So when Keith began presenting, he did what he had to. He hid his wet sheets, pretended to not care when the other kids bullied other littles, and shoved down any thoughts of love and care when they bubbled up. He wasn't going to be little. After all, they were a lot of work and responsibility, not to mention the meager monthly stipend the government put out wasn’t nearly enough to cover half of the costs of a neutral. Over time, he adjusted to hide his status. It was just too inconvenient to give into his nature, and he enjoyed the freedom that came with becoming an adult.

So up until he met Shiro, he had never particularly had any interest in having a caregiver. He knew they helped you get what you needed but he didn't need any of the stuff that littles did, despite being a tiny bit jealous at seeing other littles coddled, he was fine. That all came to a head half a year into being Shiro’s mentee. Once he was given a taste, it was hard not to crave more. 

Shiro had proven to be an adult he could trust. A caregiver. Keith's caregiver. He was consistent, kind, and kept their routines predictable, even when he was big. When he was little… well. It felt like an itch he had all his life had finally been scratched. He was a mangled ball of wires and Shiro had taken the time to gently untangle each one. He was safe and loved and cared for. He didn’t feel like his insides were too big. When he was big, he felt good. He could focus. 

Now, he felt sick, emotional, and unfocused. Small. Darkly, in some corner of his mind he wished he hadn’t given in to his headspace, even to Shiro. It was like some awful switch had been flicked. Every time he was within the vicinity of the man, Keith became a big clingy mess. How could he have missed what he never had in the first place?

But he did have it. And god, he missed it. He missed their private cuddle sessions, or when after a long day Shiro would scoop him up into a big hug. He had tried his best to cope without his caregiver's presence, resorting to long training sessions to work off stress instead of regressing. When he felt like he was a cup spilling over, making a mess all over the floor, he would retreat to his lion. Black would take him out to search while he pulled himself together.

He hadn’t even looked at his pacifier in awhile, despite the bite marks on his fingers that suffered in its place. But he was doing his damn best to be an adult, because for all he knew, Shiro was dead and if he wasn't, the longer that he was missing, the more likely he would be. The thought made his heart ache.

But here he was anyways, with wet pants, and a tear-stained face, curled in the corner of his room and holding his fucking blankie. Thats what had landed him here, he needed his blankie. There was nothing damning about a blanket, was there? The problem was, his blankie smelled like Bubba and that thought alone had been the one that shoved him over the edge.

 He squeezed his eyes shut, as his heart pounded. He was sure that he very much looked like a lost little boy and hated that he felt even more like one. He doesn't want to think about the conclusions they were drawing. These were people he was supposed to lead not disappoint. 

He knows how unexpected this must be, knows that they probably had a million questions to ask. His head was too fuzzy, lips too uncoordinated to come up with an excuse. He doesn't have the capability to explain that he was only supposed to slip a little, he needed to slip a little. He was riding the edge of headspace for so long that he knew when he was tipping into the baby zone.

He really dropped the ball tonight, snapping and storming off in the middle of an argument was not in fact a discreet way of dismissing himself for the night. He was too wrapped up in himself to consider that Hunk and Lance would actually care enough to check on him. They were probably worried about him, in some capacity. Or at the very least, worried Voltron wouldn't be able to be formed if their newly chosen leader didn't get his shit together eventually. 

God he was such a mess. He was here now, and they knew. 

Great.

He didn't risk a glance up as the two talked in hushed whispers. Confusion and concern swirled in the tones above him. Rocking himself in lieu of comfort, he buried his snotty face between his knee, shoving blankie on his cheek. 

He tried to ignore them as they hovered. They would leave soon. He had tucked himself into a tight little ball as he was going to ride this out as he wrestled for control from his little counterpart who really wanted to let someone else take care of everything and to be hugged. Oh my god he wanted a - no, no, no. He wasn't big but he wasn't going to be that little.

But it was safe, and big things were scary, and he felt so, so little anyways. He dug his nails into his forearms, hoping the pain would ground him, when the blood beaded from the scratches that it would give him something else to focus on.

“Oh, no no no- stop! You're going to hurt yourself.” Someone said, sounding panicked. An arm grabbed his hand and he jolted. He couldn’t suppress the whimper that came at the unexpected touch, trying to back up, but he soon butted up against a wall. He was trapped. They were going to make fun of him and leave him here after they told everyone anyway. He wished they would just go and get it over with. 

He looked up. Lance was squatting in front of him, gently releasing the hand and slowly putting his hands up in an “I surrender” gesture. “Hey buddy, its ok. Its ok. Its just me and Hunk. We're not- we're not going to hurt you. We just want to help. Is it OK if we help you?” He asked, voice an octave short of a straight out coo. 

Keith peeked from his spot beneath his knees. He immediately regretted it. A whine left his mouth and he shoved his thumb in his mouth to stop himself from crying. It wasn't until Lance let out an airy, pained sounding “oh” and his frown deepened that Keith realized that doing that was probably much worse. He had enough threads of his adult self left that he had the strength to rip his finger out of his mouth as he buried his head again. He didn't mean to be little, well- maybe he had a little bit, but not like this. This was an out of control spiral. 

His breath was wet and hot. His lungs seared as he breathed in and then choked out a sob. 

“Holy shit, Keith. You poor thing. Oh, you poor, dummy. No wonder you've been so out of sorts lately huh?”

A hand touched his back, hesitated and then began rubbing his shoulder. He bawled. He was crying hard enough that he felt like he might throw up.

 "Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. Its alright, honey. " Lance hushed, and the soothing tone washed over Keith, easing some of the pain in his chest. “Shh, it's alright. Take a deep breath with me, okay? In…” Lance exaggeratingly took a deep breathe in, puffing out his chest.”...and out.” He exhaled slowly, blowing out.

Keith took a shaky breath in, copying Lance as best he could.

“There you go, nice, calm breaths. I bet it's been tough being so big all the time, isn't it? You've been big for a loooong time, huh?” 

Keith wanted to roll his eyes, but he found himself nodding, jamming his thumb back into his mouth. His little side was fully in control. He wanted a hug.

“Can you tell me how old you are?” Lance asked, giving Keith time to answer. 

Keith's brow furrowed and he sucked on his finger thoughtfully, before shrugging. "Oh, you're little little aren't you? Of course you would be… " Lance sighed. "We really, really need to talk about this, Keith. Not now, but later we are definitely having a discussion when you're a lot bigger.”

When he was bigger. Whenever that would be. It had been a long time and he was an untethered raft, drifting out to sea. He nuzzled his nose into blankie and inhaled. Smelled like Bubba. 

*

“Hey how's he doing?” Hunk said in a low voice.

Lance didn't know how long he had been sitting there, rubbing Keith's shoulder, but things were better than they had been.

“We are definitely doing. Not great, but we aren't in betweening anymore. I think he's finally dropped.” God, what a concept. Keith Kogane. Dropped.

“Okay. Bath is all set, I found some of his stuff and I'm gonna find something comfy for him to wear.” Hunk called from the closet, hefting up a lavender diaper bag printed with pale yellow stars. This is why Hunk was the best friend/bro/ number one dude ever. 

“I literally don't know what I would do without you. Are there any comfort items you've found? Maybe some toys or something to make him feel better?” Lance questioned, attempting to untangle the Keith-ball, with little hugs and gentle touches.

“Yeah I found some stuff but it's not a lot. He really needs more stuff, he's got the basics, like blocks and soft shorts but he doesn't really have like….” Hunk made a noise of dissent in the back of his throat. “Anyways, here. Try this.” He said, eyes full of sympathy as he clicked his tongue sadly at Keith, whose snotty face was now visible. He handed Lance a pacifier.

Lance made a strangled sound, because Keith was a baby. And while it was way younger than he felt prepared to deal with, it was awful that Keith had been compromising his health by pushing back such a vulnerable headspace. Especially one so young. 

“Awww Keith, c'mere.” Lance's heart ached as he pulled the little in for a gentle hug, successfully unraveling the tight Keith-ball the boy had become and gathered him into his arms. He switched Keith's thumb with the pacifier and began to sway comfortingly.

 “If you don't have little time, that's really not good for you. Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Lance half heartedly chastised, not expecting a response as Hunk began unpacking the diaper bag. He tried coaxing him up off the ground by grabbing under Keith's armpits, avoiding the puddle of pee on the floor. It was probably cold by now. Gross.  

“Let's get him to the bathroom so we can clean him off. We can take care of this.” Hunk said, gesturing to the mess. “Later.”

Lance agreed with a nod, and after much coaxing and whining, he was hefting Keith up on his hip. The little continued to sniffle into his chest as he maneuvered him towards the bathroom, tightly winding his arms around Lance's neck. The blue paladin tried not to wince as snot soaked through his shirt and his hip was getting wet from Keiths still-damp pants. Babies were kind of messy.

He set the black haired boy down on a closed toilet seat, he turned to look for a rag under Keith's bathroom sink, finding some bubble bath and a little green, four limbed rubber duck. He squeaked it playfully. It seemed to get Keith's attention because he stopped squirming as Hunk gently removed his soiled clothing. 

“Your turn with the baby. While you give him a rinse, I’m gonna clean up a bit.” Lance said, watching as Hunk lowered Keith into the lukewarm water.

Hunk snorted. “Yourself or the room?”

“Can't a man do both things?” 

 “If you leave the room… we should figure out what we're going to tell the team, but I don't think we should do it tonight. Hunk said, pausing in dumping a cup over Keith's hair as he cupped a hand on Keith's forehead, making sure that the water wouldn't get in his eyes.

Lance ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be such a mess. “Yeah. Nothing tonight. I'm just going to change and grab cleaning supplies from that closet by the medbay but if I run into anyone, I'll tell them I spilled something.”

“Sounds like a plan, Lance.” 

He dumped a cup over the wrung-out looking little’s dark tangled locks. Anticipating at least some resistance despite Keith's eerie silence, Hunk squeaked the alien duck as he gently soothed. “You're being so good, Keith. You're doing so well. We're almost done and then we can go to sleep, ok?”

Keith just gave a nod. He had bags under his eyes that looked wrong on his open and too-vulnerable face. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion and his cheeks were still a ruddy red from crying. The pacifier didn't leave his mouth the whole bath, and Hunk had a feeling it would be disastrous if it was removed. He needed to be finished soon.

Finally, Hunk deemed the boy to be clean enough after a long scrub. Keith had really needed a shower. The warm water, paired with the emotional toll of crying, was assuring that Keith would be drifting off sooner rather than later. He pulled the plug as the dirty water swirled down the drain. 

 He wrapped a towel around Keith and pulled him into his lap after towel drying the long , wet hair that stuck to the baby's forehead. Keith meanwhile, was soft and sleepy, compliantly leaning into Hunks warmth as he began to doze. Hunk was getting eager for bed too. It had been an eventful evening.

Standing, he carried Keith bridal style as he reentered the paladin's bedroom, where he had lain out some of the clothes he had found in Keith's diaper bag and Lance sitting by the bed in his own pajamas. There was a large black, long-sleeved shirt, however, that he did not remember putting there. It seemed familiar and it didn't take him long to place it.

“Is that Shiro's shirt? Where did you get that?” Hunk questioned, looking at the black, oversized T-shirt. 

Lance shrugged. “I think it is, yeah. It was actually in his bag already, I feel like he's been missing Shiro so I'm not really all that surprised. Hey I mean the sleeper you picked out was cute, but if it is Shiro's, I think it'll calm him down.” Hunk nodded in agreement as he went to lay Keith down onto the bed. 

“Hey. Before we get him changed into jammies, I think maybe that he might need protection for like- nighttime.” 

“Oh, you think so? You would know better than me since I'm not really a caregiver but… That would mean he's like. Really small. Man, Keiths going to be so mad at us when hes big again.” Hunk said, face pinched as he looked at the little in his arms. 

Lance shrugged. “It's not really uncommon for really little guys even in the daytime and it's not like I've seen Keith have accidents, but he's got a pacifier and a blankie.He just had an accident before we got here and it's almost bedtime. I'd rather not risk it.”

“Alright, I get it. Better safe than sorry, I guess. Let's go with the diaper for tonight.” Hunk agreed, setting Keith down as Lance unfolded the aforementioned garment.

“Hey, it was in his bag, and I doubt it’s for decoration.” Lance moved with practiced ease, gently lifting Keith’s legs and sliding the diaper underneath. Keith remained surprisingly compliant, his pacifier bobbing slightly as he continued to suckle on it. Lance was careful and methodical, trying to ensure that the diaper was snug but not uncomfortable. Keith didn’t make a fuss, clearly too exhausted to care

Lance pulled some sweatpants up around Keith's hips. They were loose enough to fit around the extra padding, which was a relief. They definitely weren't getting him in jeans, that was for sure.

Hunk retrieved the oversized shirt from the bed, and Lance carefully dressed Keith in it. The shirt, though large and almost comically oversized on the smaller frame, had a comforting quality.  The black shirt was soft and warm, and Keith seemed to relax just a bit more as it was pulled over his head. Lance smiled as Keith whined to get his arms in the holes. He and Hunk each took an arm and gently pulled his hands through the  long sleeves.

Lance couldn't help but notice how little Keith looked in the giant shirt, like a little boy wrapped up in his big brother’s clothes. 

“There we go! Look at you, Keith! Baby is all ready for bed. Nice and cozy-wozy.” Hunk said, gushing with his hands clasped in a pleased way.

Keith all but drooped as the Yellow and Red paladins scurried to finish packing the diaper bag back up, watching them bustle around the room with tired eyes. Lance smiled as the little sleepily fisted the collar of his shirt in his hands after getting a slight whiff of it. Nuzzling into the collar of the shirt, Keith slipped into dreamland. 

Hunk and Lance let out sighs of relief as Keith slumbered on his bunk, his hair still damp. The room was quiet and only the liquid sound of a pacifier being nursed could be heard. What a night.

“OK. Keith's asleep. “So, what’s the plan moving forward? We can't pretend this didn't happen and something tells me he won't be bigger by the morning.” Hunk, ever the realist, murmured quietly, eyes flickering to his best friend.

Lance sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we’ll need to figure out how to address this with the team. Keith’s been struggling with leader stuff and Shiro being gone, but this… this is something we need to handle carefully. So I think we address it now with the team and we’ll need to talk to Keith when he’s bigger.

“Dibs on not telling Pidge" Hunk said in a whisper, pulling the sheets over the slumbering baby and tucking them around him

“I was gonna tell Pidge anyway…well in the morning that is.” Lance huffed dejectedly, pouting. He gently plopped down on the bed next to Hunk, careful to lower himself down so as to not wake Keith. Not that he thought Keith could really be woken- he seemed to be out like a light. 

Hunk sat at the end of the bed, tenderly brushing Keith's unruly bangs out of his face.  “We've gotcha, buddy.” 

Chapter Text

From across the table, Allura furrowed her brows, hands clenched on the edge of the table as her body subtly moved forward.“Is he okay?”

Keith didn't respond from where he was curled on Hunks lap, the other man bouncing his knees from where the smaller man was sitting. “I don't know.” Hunk said honestly. “Keith, buddy are you alright?”

Keith blinked absently. No response. He hadn't been really vocal all morning. He would have expected a fussy toddler or even a grouchy baby but this…

After the fiasco that was last night, they had told the team that morning of Keith's little status before breakfast in an emergency debrief- well…Lance had explained since he stayed with the baby until he had to be brought out for breakfast. It wouldn't do good to traumatize the little dude, even if Allura and Coran hadn't gotten it since Altea sounded like it didn't even have classifications and Pidge had straight up thought it was a joke at first.

Either way. It hadn't been a pleasant meeting and now here they were at the most important meal of the day with questions still hanging in the air and no answers since the only people who could answer them were either temporarily mentally incapacitated or missing (or dead but Hunk didn't want to think of that possibility).

“So what do we do now?” Pidge said, picking at her food goo agresively. She had refused to believe that Keith could have been little without her knowing. She was young and sometimes arrogant, but it was usually warranted. Pidge had to know everything and had a hard time letting go of things once she decided she was going to do something. It clashed against his workflow sometimes despite team ‘Punk’ being a well-oiled machine at this point, but Hunk recognized that this time, her refusal and anger at not knowing came from worry.

“I'm not sure.” He drummed his fingers against the metallic plastic material of the table. “I guess we wait for him to age up. We can't really force him to be bigger- I don't think he would have dropped if he could have helped it.”

Somehow that seemed like an understatement- Keith had been irritable and frankly, unstable these last two months since Shiro went missing. He had bags under his eyes and it was no surprise he ran himself into the ground, mind, body and soul.

“How long will that be? Not gonna lie I definitely flunked on Classification 101- seemed like a waste of time. Is this something that takes a long time or like- is he going to snap out of it today?” Pidge questioned. She aimed for casual but her voice was still tense. Definitely still angry, then.

“I dunno- maybe a day or two or something? I think I had a cousin who dropped for like a week one time after she had her finals.” Hunk said. All he knew is that it would be a while- there would definitely be no ‘snapping out’ of this one, seeing as Keith probably hadn't wanted to drop in the first place.

Last night was truly awful and heart wrenching on all the worst ways. Seeing strong, independent Keith cowering away and curled into a position that screamed vulnerability and fear. Even now, Keith’s eyes are glossy and vacant, staring at nothing except the occasional flicker of his eyes when Hunk stopped giving him a little rub on the back from where he was nestled.

It was eerie.

Initially, Hunk had toiled whether or not he should be doing this at all- giving the comfort and the caresses that he would happily give in normal circumstances, but Keith was someone who was adverse to touch. These tender touches, the gentle care and affection that he knew Keith would reject in any other situation felt stolen. It hurts his heart if he thinks about it this whole situation too much- how Keith must hate this. The man was someone fiercely independent, capable of seemingly anything. Hunk knows that was a farce or possibly Keith's attempt to build walls immeasurably high so something like this wouldn't happen. It felt wrong seeing Keith like this at all.

But he…he couldnt just leave Keith to be distressed and miserable all on his own. He can't just… ignore him. Putting his own discomfort aside, he would rather a bigger Keith be angry at him for the rest of their lives than think another minute about the scared, untethered little boy that he had encountered last night, and what would have happened had he and Lance not decided to check on him. Keith probably hated it, yes, but he couldn’t ignore the biology that screamed the opposite at him.

“It's weird seeing him like this…all quiet and, well… small.” Lance said.

It was true- Hunk wished that Keith would scoff at him, cuss him out, give him a glare or really even to just look at him. Anything would be better than this… this…raw, aching vulnerability.

Allura nods her head in agreement. “He is usually very… spirited. It is hard to believe this is something that your species just does. I still cannot understand the benefit.”

Coran, who had been silent all morning hummed contemplatively, stroking his mustache. Of everyone, he was the only one who seemed to be free of the somber mood. He had been the first to interact with Keith other than Hunk and Lance and he had seemed to take it all in stride with a cheerful “Hello Number Four” in greeting earlier that morning.

“It's supposed to be like, a good thing. Like how kids make people happy it's supposed to help us feel like we're… capable as a species I guess. Its meant to be a good thing.” Lance said, eyes darting from Keith to Allura from where they were sat across from each other.

The table had almost lapsed into silence again before Pidge said in a strangled voice “Why didn't he tell us…?”

There was so much hurt bleeding into her voice, her lip disappearing behind teeth as she chewed it raw.

Nobody answered, but varying levels of upset were mirrored across the faces of people who would love to know the answer.

It was a loaded question, and not one that anyone but Keith could answer.

As if sensing the tension, the boy in question buried his face into Hunks shoulder and let out a needy whine. A small, pathetic sound that he didn't even know Keith was capable of making, something that felt like it wasn't for his ears at all.

Keith was the sort of person, Hunk had learned, who would throw himself in front of a blaster to shield someone else without a second thought. He acted with little care for his own safety, but was always willing to help others. How many people have ever had the thought that Keith Kogane was needy? How many people had Keith bared his soul to?

Other than Shiro, The answer is probably nobody.

Hunk is still getting to know Keith, but what he does know is that Keith is not someone who easily lets others in. He keeps his emotions tightly guarded, but is prone to the occasional outburst when provoked.

No, Keith is someone who is quiet. Someone who approaches concern and care cautiously, wary of ulterior motives, and always walks lightly on his feet. It's obvious that Keith isn't someone who allows himself to be taken care of by just anybody.

That's what makes Keith's current vulnerability so striking. It's not by choice; it's a result of the pull of his biology, forces he cannot resist.This isn’t Keith willingly opening up to them, showing his soft underbelly and trusting that he's not going to be hurt.

No.

This is a position he's enduring against his will.

Hunk swallows, throat feeling tight. The weight in his arms feels grounding and it's then that Keith looks at him.

His usually sharp eyes have lost their wariness, melting away into a glazed stare that flit across his features. Hunk was so busy being surprised that he doesn't see the hand come up and grab at his nose. He does his best not to grimace when the hand clumsily squeezes uncomfortably hard around his nose.

“What are you doing? Are you grabbing my nose?” He asked nasally, from the current blockage wrapped around his hand.

A tiny laugh bubbles out of Keiths lips as his eyes lighten.

Oh.

That was cute.

He had never thought to use the word “cute” and Keith in the same sentence before but now… holy quiznak Keith was cute.

He moved forward to give Keith's nose a gentle squeeze. “Honk honk.”

Keith burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. It was such a happy, carefree laugh despite the boy's extreme upset last night and even this morning.

“Holy shit that is so…mmm- look at him, he's disgustingly cute.” Lance said, trying and failing to fight the smile that tugged on the corners of his mouth.

“Hey- no bad words in front of the baby” Hunk said, half serious, half amused, not taking his eyes off the little.

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate. The hard conversations would have to wait until Keith was feeling bigger- for now they had this Keith, one who was apparently cute and amused by nose honks.

He and Keith traded a couple more nose honks before he began to squirm. He was still laughing, but he seemed a little more interested in the room. Hunk hoisted him up and helped him turn so he was front facing on his lap.

“Well look who it is! How exciting it is to explore the structures of the face, hm?” Coran finally spoke with a smile.

Keith kicked his legs excitedly, jamming his fist into his mouth.

“He certainly is more excitable than usual. Usually only the youngest alteans are still entertained by their extremities.” Allura said, amused by how easily Keith seemed to be entertained as Coran made faces at Keith from across the table.

Pidge said nothing before shoving her chair in and storming out of the room.

Hunk frowned. She would come around. Eventually. He sighed. For now, they had to make sure that Keith was taken care of and reconcile what had been happening with the truth. It was a matter of waiting and Pidge was never one to be patient, but there were no answers here and now and there was no solution other than time.

Suddenly, Keith was plucked out of his grasp. “Oogh you're heavier than Hunk makes you look” He said to Keith, who just continued gnawing on his hand. “My turn. You've been a baby hog all morning.” Lance said, plopping Keith onto his own lap. Keith didn't protest, though he did look mildly disgruntled to be moved from the comfy lap he was sitting on.

Hunk recognized the gesture for what it really was for- he was trading shifts. Lance had been the one to volunteer spending the night in Keith's room with him, but Hunk had been with the little one all morning. It hadn't been terrible, but it was emotionally charged which left everyone a little drained.

He gave his friend a grateful smile.

They would get through this together.

Chapter Text

Lance didn't know what to make of the fact that his (self proclaimed) rival was supposedly little and while there were of course, secrets that were kept from the team, Lance had no idea how one this big was just unearthed.

It hurt, and certainly explained why Keith had been so emotional and volatile as of late. He had chalked it up to grieving Shiro and his tireless search for said missing man, but the fact remained that nobody had thought anything could really have been done about it.

Any attempt at help was met with aggression or a complete shutdown so he had assumed that it would either get better or worse whenever Keith's grief subsided enough to begin taking care of himself instead of throwing everything he had at finding their missing team member.

It had been an unspoken team decision that if things got really bad that they would intervene but…That might not have been the case if they knew that Keith wasn't really even in a stable headspace to really be capable of taking care of himself.

Lance was in the unique position of a dual classification- a caregiver with little tendencies. He knew what it felt like on both ends. He knew what it was to feel the neediness clinging to his brain, the bone deep urge to be cared for and loved. He recognized the need to care and provide for someone so it would fill his hollow insides until he was whole again.

For him, It was awful to be without either. It was unbalanced, like falling from a tightrope without a net. The burn of going too long without was only something he had felt the sting of recently- there wasn't always a time to enter either headspace and it left him feeling numb.

It was sad.

Keith was a fucking idiot for hiding it.

Though Pidge was the only one who was outwardly angry, and Hunk was probably more sad than anything, he was pretty pissed. Keith was a dumbass for repressing his headspace. Keith was definitely drop sick and over the last month had exhibited all the symptoms- emotional regression, lethargy, reduced coordination and headaches were all symptoms of going too long between proper drops.

But they weren't just teenagers being reckless anymore- they were defenders of the fucking universe. If that shit had boiled over during a mission people could have been killed- hell, their team could have been in serious danger.

So yeah, he was really angry… but there wasn't anyone he could be angry at right now. Keith was in front of him, but this Keith wasn't responsible for all of the poor choices his bigger counterpart had made.

This Keith was a sweet little boy who was currently sitting in the middle of the “living room” on the softest blanket they could find (one of the comforters from the royal quarters- thanks Allura) with some soft blocks and a smaller blankie that he had discovered that Keith loved almost as much as he liked being held.

No, this Keith was easily pleased by stacking blocks and hugging stuffed animals at playtime, was incredibly shy when anyone walked in the room, and didn't like taking his pacifier out, even for the little crunchy treats that they had picked up from the last space mall adventure.

It was easy for Lance to forget how angry he was when he was watching Keith clumsily stacking foam blocks on the floor, nursing a pacifier with drying tear tracks on his still red cheeks.

This morning had certainly been less than ideal and the quiet toddler in front of him was evidence that quick fixes and distractions could only get him so far. Quiznak. This morning had been…

***

He hefted Keith up onto his hip, trusting Coran to clean up dishes despite it being his turn to clean up the breakfast mess. Coran just kind of rocked like that.

Keith definitely never skipped the gym because the arms around his neck were kind of clinging uncomfortably tight and Lance resisted the urge to untangle the arms to a looser position.

They finally made it to Keith's room, and Lance's arms were grateful as he sat the baby down. Clingy arms refused to let go, and Lance smiled at him. “It's okay, buddy- why don't we get you put of your pajamas and into some clothes to play in?”

Lance's eyebrows rose in surprise as Keith shyly nodded. After the state of complete infancy Keith had been trapped in, Lance was grateful that he was showing signs of aging up.

It would be easier to have his needs met when he could communicate with them- not to mention how eerie it was to have Keith squirm or whine when he needed something, and even cry if he thought it wouldn't happen, even if it was kind of cute that Keith would squirm for attention and then hide his face in his hands when he got cooed at.

Lance found some sweatpants that he could have sworn he had never seen Keith wear (he was pretty sure the man slept in boots. He didn't think the word “relaxation” was in Keith's vocabulary) and a soft red t-shirt that Keith sometimes wore as pajamas. Clothes all set out, he turned to Keith, feeling himself hesitate.

Sure, He had helped Keith undress to patch up a wound or get him into a cryosuit, and he had certainly seen Keith get undressed to shower after training, hell, he and Hunk had helped change him into dry clothes on his initial drop when he was immobilized by stress, but this felt different.

It was a little more intimate to be changing someone's clothes, he supposed, when it was done as part of a routine. He wasn't doing this because he had to help Keith out of a ruined shirt, he was literally helping him put on a new shirt because Keith was actually little enough not to be able to get himself dressed and undressed without help.

Even with Lance being inexperienced with littles this age, Keith was helpful, lifting up his arms when instructed. When he shoved the neck hole over unruly black hair and said “peek-a-boo” Keith gave a little smile. It was all going smoothly until he pulled off the soft shorts and he remembered that last night they had made sure Keith was diapered just in case.

Well. It was a good thing Lance was changing him into other pants because it looked like Keith was very wet, and probably not currently potty trained.

Ok. Keith was a baby- right. Keith needed his diaper changed and oh my god they definitely hadn't remembered to do that this morning, the kid was probably going to have some sort of rash, and he was not mentally prepared to change Keith frickin Koganes diaper.

To be fair, Keith hardly seemed thrilled either- he immediately burst into tears when Lance mentioned it was “time for a diaper change” and had promptly scrambled to hide in the closet. Keith did not want a change if the red face and sniffles were anything to go by.

Well, that made two of them.

“Keith” He had said, digging for patience and trying to keep his voice soft. He was already exhausted from last night, Keith wasn't exactly a low maintenance kid. “It's okay, it's just an accident. You can come out.”

A garbled “no” had come from the closet. It was the most words Lance had heard from him all day. Maybe Keith would actually be responsive to questions instead of the blank stares they had been getting thus far.

“No? What's wrong bud? Are you nervous? Maybe scared?”

“Scared.” Keith parroted back, but Lance could see him peeking from behind his hands where the closet door was cracked.

“Oh you're scared, hm? What's so scary?” He put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Hey, I'm not mad at you. I'm not gonna do anything to you- I know you couldn't help it.”

There was a long pause before Keith's breath hitched with a little sob. “Mad at me.” And then, after a pregnant pause, “Want Bubba” Keith managed in a strangled voice before bursting into a fresh wave of tears.

Who?

Lance's brow furrowed. He wasn't asking for a daddy or a mommy and that was telling- it wasn't a caregiver he saw as a parent, but someone like a family member. Lance wracked his brain. He didn't think Keith had any family the only person he really even considered a friend was-

oh.

Oh.

OH!

The realization slammed into him like a train, leaving him feeling winded. Keith wasn't missing someone back on Earth- no, he was missing Shiro. He felt kind of stupid for just assuming Shiro's shirt was in the diaper bag because Keith was missing him- Shiro had probably put it there himself because he was Keith's caregiver.

In retrospect, it was kind of obvious. Shiro was the one who always went to check on Keith after he stormed off and sometimes they were away for a whole evening. If Keith was late to training (which was rare but it had happened a whole two times they had been in space) Shiro was the one who insisted on waking him up and talking to him, one of the times to tell them that Keith had been feeling sick.

They all had been missing Shiro, but Keith…well. Something about Keith had seemed fundamentally broken since the other man had disappeared.

He swallowed. He felt nauseous. “I'm so sorry, Keith. I know you miss him… we all do.” God, he wished Hunk was here. He was awful at this sort of thing. He hadn't even thought Keith Kogane to be a man that cried until last night but now hearing it made his heart squeeze with sympathy. He couldn't stand it. He took a deep breath.

“When I'm missing someone, you know what helps me?” He asked, walking over to the closet and kneeling as he cracked the door a little bit more.

Dewy violet eyes looked up at him from behind a dark curtain of bangs where Keith had made himself as small as possible, a little ball in the corner, hugging his knees. Backed into a corner. His caregiver was dead or missing and his only option right now was Lance.

“A hug.” Lance said, opening his arms up slowly. “Do you want a hug Keith?”

There was a moment where Lance regretted opening up his arms at all since Keith's face crumpled again, but there was another body crashing against his as he was knocked onto his butt, Keith's arms wrapped tightly around his neck as the little sobbed in his arms.

“I Wan’ Bubba! But…Bubba…Bubbas all gone!” He said through tears, voice breaking at the word “gone.”

“Oh honey.” He murmured, voice dripping, with sympathy as he felt tears dampening his shoulder. He gently rubbed Keith's back from their awkward position on the floor. Feeling oddly reminiscent of last night's similar cry-fest, He let Keith cry until the sobs had petered out into little sniffles. His body ached from being twisted in an uncomfortable position for so long, along with the faint musky smell that reminded him that Keith was still wet.

Right. Yes. This at least, was a problem he could fix.

“Hey buddy- it can't be fun to be in a wet diaper all day. You'll get a rash.” He gently cajoled, shushing Keith as he whimpered when he was moved.

He hoisted Keith up into his arms. Keith wasn't too heavy- but he wasn't really light either. He wasn't confident enough in his upper arm strength to chance bouncing the baby, so he swayed slightly instead. “You're going to be itchy later- you don't want to itch later right?”

Keith shook his head “no”, cramming fingers into his mouth. “Want Bubba do.” He begged as he was set onto the bed as the diaper bag was plopped beside him.

Lance sighed. “Me too, but that's not really a choice right now. Lancey will help you. Lay back for me please?”

When it looked like Keith would once again start crying himself hoarse, he let out a little sob and tried to muffle it with his fist in his mouth. He had never seen a baby try and be quiet or self soothe as desperately as Keith. On one hand, he was grateful that Keith wouldn't have another meltdown on him, but on the other hand It was kind of horrifying and he patted Keith's knee comfortingly.

He had changed his niece and nephews diapers before, but it was different for someone with an adult body. Despite that, his caregiver's biology made caring for a Little so easy. It was so hardwired to his DNA that it was almost muscle memory despite never caring for a Little this young.

By the time he was taping a new diaper onto Keith's skinny hips, the little boy had gone quiet. It was unnerving after all of the emotional commotion- just like at breakfast, Keith's gaze seemed blank again as a deep headspace forced him back under.

It was awful to see some level of clarity, some level of Keith, be ripped away as his brain desperately rerouted to cope from the stress of grief. He was already in headspace so Lance supposed the fix was just to… go deeper. Drown in baby brain to escape any higher form of cognizance.

He slid a shirt on the kid as he finished getting him dressed. “Okie dokie! We are all done, Keith-a-roo. I think I saw some blocks in your bag. Why don't we go play for awhile and then have some dinner? Sound good?”

He wished Keith would give him at least a yes or a no like earlier. Instead, uncomprehending eyes blinked at him as Keith plaintly allowed himself to be led to stand up, tears from his still wet eyes rolling down his cheeks.

It seemed like they still had a long way to go. Lance took a deep breath and led them out to the living room.

Chapter Text

Things were fuzzy.

Really fuzzy.

It was so hard to think. It was hard to move. Time went by in flashes, in snippets. He felt like he was falling.

He was held, a warm body pressed against his side, bouncing him on their knee. They were talking about him, he vaguely thought but he wasn't there. He was a baby and the words didn't make sense. He knew his name and the worried tones.

He was fed. Food was pressed to his lips and he opened them, chewed and swallowed. He whined when he was full and cried when he was hungry. A hand gently tucked his hair behind his ear. He reached for them. He wanted to be held again. He needed to be held right now if he wasn't he would-

He was asleep, rocked and tucked in, pacifier bobbing at his lips. He blinked awake. His diaper was wet. It didn't matter. He was a baby. Someone was helping him get dressed. He knew this person's name. He knew what they smelled like. He liked them. It was familiar. They smiled at him but it wasn't right. It wasn't the right person.

It wasn't the person he wanted.

Maybe someone he would never see again.

It was too much, when he was aware. It was all too much. Everything was so much bigger than him.

He was sad. He felt hollow. Crying, crying, crying. He cried all the time. Sometimes, he understood that they were telling him that everything was OK. It was not. His chest ached from sobbing. He wanted it to stop. But still, he fell down, down, down.

“Let's get you dressed.”

Let's get you something to eat.”

Let's get you cleaned up.”

Things were much easier when they just happened to him. He didn't have to be an active participant in the waking world. He could stay here and pretend to not exist in this everlasting free fall.

Sometimes he was able to catch himself. To come back up. In the moments he did have something like lucidity, he tried to tune into what the voices were saying- tried not to let the words wash over him. Shake his head yes. Say something in a voice that sounded like it belonged to someone else, but as soon as he remembered why he had fallen, he would shatter all over again.

He didn't know how long he drifted, but the first thing he registered was humming and a hand patting his back rhythmically. He felt the vibration from where his ear was nestled against a chest. It was nice. It was a lot less nice when he was jostled awake and lifted away from the warmth he had been sleeping on. His tummy missed the warm feeling, but he was spun around to face forward with the warmth on his back.

He whined, craning his head back to pout at whoever decided that moving him was a good idea.

A man with orange hair and a big poofy thing on his mouth smiled back at him. “Oh, dear little one, it seems you've had quite the adventure today. All tuckered out, hm?”

Keith hummed his agreement. He wanted to go back to sleep, but it was nice to listen to this man. Coran. That was his name. They were rocking, he realized. They swayed back and forth, his body wedged up against Coran's chest and an arm cradling his back.

“With all of the excitement of the day, it seems fitting that we should replenish our energy. Just stay awake for a little bit longer so we can put something in that tummy of yours.”

Keith was just drifting off again as he was bounced awake. He let out a sad whine. He wanted to kick his legs, but that was too much effort.

“Oh I know, its a terrible thing to stay awake. Shh, shh, it’s alright.” Coran cooed as he patted the baby's back comfortingly. Keith was about to try and drift off again when something was pressed between his lips. He began to nurse it and was rewarded with warm milk. A bottle. He was hungry, he realized and started to feed with gusto.

“You know, I used to be quite the adventurer myself. Me and my grand pop-pop would get up to all sorts of hijinks.” Coran droned on. Keith tuned out the idle chatter until the bottle was popped out of his mouth. Hey! He wasn't finished with that.

"Ah, I see that you’re quite the connoisseur of fine space nutrition. If you keep this up, you’ll be stronger than a Grorgonian westlebing! But we cant have our meal coming back up, now can we? Just a little break to make sure it stays down."

Keith was relieved when he was handed the bottle and he was allowed to finish it. Coran was so mean for taking it away but he guessed it was OK since he gave it back. It wasn't long before he had finished the bottle. “There we go- Every great Paladin needs their rest and a full belly.” Coran took the bottle and placed it on a side table.

He yawned as Coran stood up, carrying him bridal style as he went. He snuggled into his chest. He blearily looked at where they were going and he realized he was going to be put in a crib. Alone. Suddenly Keith felt a little more awake and reached to cling to the fabric of Corans shirt. He had words- he could use them to tell Coran to never leave him.

“Don’ go.” He said, muffled from where his face was buried in Corans neck.

“It can be hard when you don’t want to be alone. Hmmm. Looks like your bed is too small for me to fit in there with you. But guess what? I’ll make a special deal with you. I’ll stay right here until you’re ready to sleep- and should you need me, I'll be here in two shakes of a yelmars tail.”

Keith shook his head ‘no’. His breath came out fast and wet. His tummy hurt. He didn't want to be alone. He was always left alone. People pretended to love him but they left him and they never came back.

Bubba didn't come back.

“I want Bubba.” Keith whimpers, cramming his fingers into his mouth, chasing any comfort he could manage. At the confession, everything seemed to fall apart. Tears already tracking down his cheeks, He pressed his face against Coran's warmth and he bawled.

The arms around him tighten, as if wrapping him in a hug. Keith clings to him, arms coming up and around Coran's neck desperately. He feels like all he does is cry and cry like a stupid baby, but he can't do anything about it. He knows it's why people leave, but he can't stop, even as he tries to choke down his tears to cry quietly.

At least Coran was nice about it. He just swayed them gently as an entirely new wave of sobs wracked through his frame.

He was crying for what felt like forever. When Keith felt like he was all cried out and empty, he sniffled, resting his chin on Corans shoulder. “I want Bubba.” Keith whimpers again, much quieter than the first time.

“I know you do, Keith. I'm sorry.” Coran murmurs, adjusting Keith in his hold so he could rub a comforting hand up and down his spine.

Keith rubs his snotty face against the fabric on Corans shoulder sleeve. “Miss him.” He says, detaching from Coran and looking at the other man, pleading for something. “Find Bubba?”

Corans face looked pinched. “Not yet, Number four, but we haven't stopped looking. We are doing our best to find him, but right now our mission is also making sure you are cared for, safe, and happy. What would your Bubba do if he came back and you were unwell?”

Odds were, Bubba would be very sad if he was sick, Keith thought. Maybe Coran was right. If he wanted to be a good boy and make Bubba happy, he needed to listen to adults. They seemed to know what they were talking about. Keith didn't know what to do, but Coran seemed to have plenty of ideas.

Keith’s tears began to slow as he clung tightly to Coran, his breaths hitching and shuddering. Coran rocked him gently, his own voice a soothing lull as he spoke. "But you know, Keith, sometimes the people we care about have to go away for a while, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love us anymore. It just means they’re on their own journey, and sometimes, they come back when we least expect it.”

“Until Bubba come back…You help?” He asked, feeling unsure. Coran had already helped him so much, he didn't want anyone to get tired of him.

"Of course, I would be happy to.” Coran responded immediately. “But don’t you worry, we’ve got everything under control. You’re safe with us.”

Keith gave a small, reluctant nod, though the ache in his heart wasn’t entirely soothed. He still wanted Bubba, still felt the sting of his absence. But Coran’s presence was a comfort he hadn’t known he needed. Slowly, Keith’s sobs subsided to quiet sniffles as he rested his head against Coran’s shoulder. “M’ tired. Wanna sleep.” He said.

“There you go,” Coran whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Keith’s head. “Just take your time. Rest now, and when you wake up, we’ll figure things out together.”

Keith’s eyelids grew heavy, his body relaxing as he succumbed to the exhaustion of his tears. Coran continued to hold him close, his heartbeat steady and calming. His eyes hurt and his chest ached. As Keith drifted off to sleep, his last thought was that he should probably stop crying so much.

*

Keith doesn't feel better in the morning. He feels empty and he's so sad but he's also angry because he's useless like this and he can't help Bubba when he can't stop being such a baby.

He also can't stop crying.

It was so much easier to fall than to painstakingly climb up.

He thought he had kept his crying quiet. He thinks he was, but there’s indistinct voicelike noises coming closer to the door and maybe it's just morning but he doesn't want to burden them more, he got so little he's so much work, he can't- he wants to be forgotten like an old toy left on the side of the street.

Please ignore him. He was just a stupid crying baby again.

The door wooshes open, and Keith feels like he's lost all over again. He keeps losing, he just can't stop losing. He tries to shove the sad back deep down into his chest, because it must fit with all of the empty he feels.

“Aww, I would say good morning but it doesn't seem like a very nice morning, does it?”

It was Lance. It wasn't a nice morning. He doesn't want Lance, he wants his Bubba but he's sure that he sounds like a broken record at this point.

Lance takes in the sight of him and whatever he must see makes him frown. He wondered what it was like other mornings. Lance always helps him in the mornings. He remembers bits and pieces, but he was far away before. Now, he is here. He is present. He can feel the softness of the sleeper, feel the uncomfortable cold, wetness around his groin and that awkward puffiness that meant that he had gone a little too long without a diaper change.

Oh no.

This was really really bad. That was a bad thing to do, he wasn't supposed to be little around these people and he definitely wasn't supposed to be wet- now Lance was going to be really mad, Keith was positive. Lance was going to be so mad and Keith doesn't even know how to get out of this crib. He doesn't want to feel like this but he doesn't want to feel the far away feelings again. He wants to be here but he wants- he wants to be a good boy and he was so bad, even though it's always been hard to stay dry at nighttime.

“Oh,no no, don’t cry! Oh, Mullet, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Lance says, gently, unlatching the crib from the sides. It lowered with a clack and Keith flinched. The other man reached in to gather up Keith, but the little backed away with a whimper.

“Hey, hey, hey… whats wrong? Did you have a bad dream? You're not usually so spooked in the mornings, I wonder what it could be.” Lance said soothingly, although clearly it was said to himself moreso than Keith. The other man held out his arms slowly again. “C'mere Keith. Let's see if getting you cleaned up and dressed doesn't improve your mood.”

He blinks. Lance was OK with him needing to be changed? Was this a trick? He was supposed to be big- well, bigger. But he wanted help and he wasn't big. He was a baby but he wasn't in the far away place again.

He scoots closer, even though he's still crying, just a little bit. He doesn't know how he still has any tears left at all, he must have cried a whole ocean by now. He doesn't like the way his stomach feels either, as his breath hitches, tense and fluttery. He's so scared, even though nothing bad is happening. Lance’s hand rubs into his back, between his shoulder blades, in firm, warm circles and Keith releases a gasping breath he didn't know he was holding.

That’s not...

... that’s not what he was expecting.

After a moment of consideration, he raises his arms. The caregiver seems to let out a relieved sigh and he's hefted onto a hip. Keith is still scared and still waiting for something bad. He can’t make himself stop waiting because everyone leaves and he doesn't know when Lance will get sick of him.

Lance hums into his hair, softly, gently. He even keeps holding him, and rocking him, and rubbing circles into his back, even as Keith cries like he always seems to. Lance even offers Keith his blankie. He's not mad when Keith grabs at it without thinking and nuzzles his nose into it as his thumb pokes past his lips. Lance isn't putting him down, he doesn’t leave him alone.

Maybe Keith was gauging things wrong. He always was a bad guesser at what the adults around him were thinking.

“You nod’ mad?” He nervously asked. His head had lots of words in it- maybe too many words but… something about it felt good. He was very sad and the words were sad too, but It was OK.

Lance's eyebrows shot up comically. Keith would have giggled, had his tummy not felt like it was full of bees. “Oh. Huh. No Keith- I promise I'm not mad. It’s just an accident, hon, it’s okay. We can get you all cleaned up, no problem-o.”

Keith didn't think it was no problem-o, but Lance hadn't yelled at him yet, so maybe it was OK. Bubba always said to not apologize for accidents but Bubba was-

He didn't want to think about that.

“There we go, buddy,” Lance murmured as he set Keith down and began to clean Keith up. His tone was light and encouraging, aimed at soothing Keith rather than reprimanding him. “You’re doing great, just a little change, and we’ll get you back to feeling better, okay?”

Keith doesn't know how to feel about Lance changing him- it felt weird to be getting help from him (and being big enough to care about it)- but Lance is a big person most of the time, he guesses, even if he's little like Keith, sometimes too. Keith's gaze remained warily fixed on Lance. Every part of him felt exposed and vulnerable—he still wanted to hide, to squirm away from the embarrassment of needing so much help. But another part of him, the one that was the loudest, was small and needy, craved the comfort Lance was providing.

Keith didn’t respond verbally, but he did manage a faint nod, his thumb still firmly nestled in his mouth. The tactile comfort of his blankie against his cheek made things more ok.

Lance's hands were gentle but efficient. He wasn't fast, but he wasn't dragging it out- it was sort of unhurried as he removed the wet diaper and replaced it with a fresh, dry one. All the while, he continued his gentle chatter, a steady stream about the happenings of the day that were chasing off Keith's lingering discomfort.

“Do you want me to pick out your clothes or do you want to do it? Lance asked, grasping both of his hands gently and helping him sit up.

The little's brow furrowed as he thought. He didn't know! It sounded like a whole lot planning a whole outfit. Where did they keep his clothes? What if he couldn't pick? Could he choose wrong?

As if sensing his panic, Lance rubbed his thumbs in circles on the back of Keith's hand. “I can also give you options if your whole outfit is too hard to decide.”

Keith nodded. Choices would be better- but he wasn't little enough to not help pick his clothing! He would pick his own shirt like a big boy.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Lance said, his voice light. He pulled out a few outfits from the nearby drawer, holding them up one by one. “How about this one? Or maybe this one?”

Keith studied the choices Lance presented, his hands clenching the edges of his blankie for reassurance. His legs were hanging off of the changing table and he swung them, letting them hit the side of the table and putting them back out again. He felt so little up here, but he hoped he looked kind of big. Maybe not too big- he also hoped Lance would help him down. He wanted to make a decision, but the pressure of getting it right was overwhelming. What if he got it wrong? The colors and patterns of the clothes seemed to swim in front of his eyes, blending together in a confusing blur.

Lance noticed his hesitation and continued with a gentle smile. “It’s okay to take your time. How about I hold them up, and you can just point to which one you like best?” He held the outfits closer, allowing Keith to get a better view and make his choice without the added stress of handling them himself.

Keith looked at the options carefully. His gaze settled on a soft blue shirt with a friendly cartoon character on it. He pointed hesitantly, his thumb still in his mouth.

“Good choice!” Lance said, clapping his hands together. His tone was warm and filled with encouragement. “That's the one I would have picked, too. Let’s get you dressed.”

He helped Keith into the shirt, making sure it was comfortable and not too tight. He talked to Keith throughout the process, pointing out the character on the shirt and making silly faces to keep him engaged. The distraction was nice. Lance was really silly.

“There we go, all set!” Lance said, giving Keith a reassuring pat on the back. “Looking sharp, samurai.”

Keith managed a shy smile, his earlier distress starting to ease. He still felt raw, but he didn't feel the hollow sads anymore and that was good.

Lance gathered up the used diaper and clothes, tossing the diaper into the pail and balling up Keith's pajamas and chucking them in his laundry bin.

“You did really well this morning, Keith. You know, sometimes you wake up feeling gross or kind of sad, and that’s okay. It’s just part of the day and we just gotta keep on trucking. Good things will happen too.”

Keith nodded again, this time more confidently. Lance was a grown up so he definitely knew what he was talking about. Maybe it would be OK. For the moment, he felt a bit more like himself, comforted by the caregiver's nice words and the familiarity of his blankie.

Lance finished tidying up, rubbing his hands together as the tang of sanitizer lingered through the air. He turned his attention back to Keith with a cheerful grin. “So, what do you think about having some breakfast? I’m sure a bowl of goo would hit the spot, huh?”

Keith’s eyes lit up at the mention of food, and he gave a small, eager nod. The promise of breakfast was a welcome distraction and a reminder that, despite the rough start to the day, there was still a lot to look forward to.

Lance helped Keith down from the changing table (it was only a little bit scary) and led him by the hand to the kitchen, keeping up a light and friendly conversation. Keith followed, still a little bit scared but comforted by Lance’s hand as he swung their arms playfully.

The day was starting to look a little brighter, he was still sad and scared, but as they walked to breakfast together Keith felt a little more like maybe things would be ok.

Chapter Text

As the days passed, they were all getting used to having a much smaller Keith around the castleship. Each day had been a blur of meals, playtime, changes, naps, and story time that was becoming something that actually resembled a routine. They all had shifts to make sure everyone was well rested with enough free time to keep training on the radar. The princess had kept the castle in quiet areas where they were unlikely to be hailed or attacked. They couldn't do much if Voltron was down, even for diplomatic work. The locals always wanted to see the giant robot to ooo and aaah at it. He guessed it was like a “symbol of hope” kind of thing.

Lance had the morning routine where he would make sure Keith was clean and dressed, and usually sat with him for the duration of breakfast. It was always entertaining to watch his friend chatter away, one hand eating food goo and the other balancing Keith on his lap or spooning some food goo into Keith's mouth as he gestured wildly with his hands. 

He had the afternoon shift, which he honestly liked a lot. He usually got a clean and fed Keith so his job mostly consisted of playtime and cuddles which was kind of the best job, in his opinion.

Allura was in the evening a little before dinnertime, so he could go and cook. She wasn't amazing with kids and was awkward, but she could carry him without getting tired and seemed to be good at settling the hangry tantrums, so they had that. It was, admittedly, pretty funny to watch her try and coax a stubborn Keith into spitting out his pacifier to eat something. She was too strict on the little guys. Babies didn't really have a sense of “later”. Keith couldn't really be bargained with or commanded- babies made no sense and Allura, ever the tactician, was always trying to make sense of things.

He thinks if Keith were a little bigger, though, that he and the princess would probably get along. 

Though, if all else failed he would probably take a bottle before bedtime, so it was never a total loss. It would be nice to see Keith actually nourished and rested, since he had hardly eaten much of anything before he had dropped like a rock. He was much too light and wiry for Hunks liking, but he was a man who liked food, so sue him for being sad when people didn't think the same. 

Bedtime was a Coran specialty that the man seemed so freakishly good at, it was a wonder why he wasn't in charge of Keith's care completely since he never needed back-up, or help or even a reminder that it was his turn to come get Keith. He was always ready for the baby, and he always walked out of the makeshift nursery before 9 o clock with an empty bottle in hand and left a Keith that was successfully down and out for the count. 

If you asked him how, he would of course, tell you that “it was a simple matter of making sure that the little urchin felt settled and loved” whatever that meant but gave no actual childcare advice. 

Coran was just amazing like that, he guessed.

Keith was still sad, really sad even, but the fear element of being taken care of by them had receded, letting the regression actually begin to start helping instead of becoming a hiding place within himself. 

Now that he actually seemed aware of things going on around him, It was thrilling to see little Keith coming out of his shell bit by bit. For one thing, he realized that Keith really still wanted to eat dinner with somebody or be on someone's lap. He was always happy to be hugged and hardly went anywhere unless he was carried or holding someone's hand.

Another thing he realized is that Keith loved to color. He was happy to color any time, especially when other people colored with him. And he was thrilled when his art was complimented or talked about, a nervous smile and blush on his face as he mumbled “t'ank you”.

 He found that he didn't mind Keith sitting on the counter of the kitchen, swinging his feet and humming an off-tune Disney song or two while he prepared team lunches on days with free time or dinners if training allowed time. The only thing they were treading around was Shiros disappearing act- mentioning it when Keith was an adult was tumultuous, but when he was a baby it was a surefire way to send him into a grief spiral. 

They still had bad days where Keith was a blank slate, one where he had a glazed look in his eyes and wasn't responsive to really anything, even his blankie or a bottle. Those days, they just toted him around and rode it out, trying to include his opinions and autonomy as much as one could with someone who didn't really even answer yes or no questions. 

But overall, Keith was a pretty good kid. He was shy, but he was not as fussy or prone to temper tantrums as Hunk would have thought considering his adult counterpart.

It was nice (on his arms and back) that Keith was feeling old enough to get himself from place to place, and was even getting ro be a little “chatty” some days. He was still young enough to get into things so he needed a more watchful eye. He had a persistent oral fixation that Hunk had found also applied to the smaller nuts and bolts in the workshop where he had frantically begged the little to “spit them out!” 

Pidge was never allowed to babysit by herself again, which by the way she was still angry at Keith, seemed to suit her just fine. 

The solution to both things came in the answer of a revolutionary invention; the playpen. Keith didn't hate the playpen per say- but he didn't like when he couldn't see what was going on outside it. They had, of course, built one with an odd mesh fabric they had found, but Keith would attempt to escape or cry if he thought no one was nearby. 

Other times, Keith seemed very interested in seeing whatever it is his big people were up to, or at the very least interested in tracking where exactly they are in a given room. 

 Right now though, he seems entirely lost in his own little play world. Spread in the playpen are a menagerie of toys that Keith vaguely liked or was at least willing to play with. Their biggest hits so far had been the soft plush blocks, magnet chunky cubes, and a couple of stuffed animals. The current littlest paladin was sitting with his legs in a “w”, his socked feet tucked up behind him as he stacked squares and rectangles and triangles on top of each other. Hunk makes his way over, opening the side of the playpen to sit next to Keith.

“Ooo wow. Whatcha makin’?”

“P'ayin wif b'ocks” Keith replies, preoccupied. His speech has an adorable slur since he doesn't spit his pacifier out when he talks.

“Ah, yes I see. Well, what are you making with your blocks?” 

Keith blinks, looking at his current work in progress. It's a blob of rectangles and squares in a oblong shape. He places down another square.

“Um...” he mumbles, looking shyly from Hunk to his creation. “makin’ a bed.”

Hunk beams, as if that was the best answer Keith could have given. “Wow! Thats the best bed I've ever seen. Is that for one of your little friends?” He asks, picking up a stuffed animal and bobbing up and down as it “walks” towards the bed. 

Keith giggles, a hand fiddling with the plastic handle on his pacifier. “No!! Is for ‘unny. Na’ misse cow” He says, shoving the stuffed animal away. 

Huh. The thing in his hand definitely doesn't look like a cow, more like a chicken than anything, but maybe that's his name. He pretends to make the ‘cow’ walk away and picks up the stuffed rabbit looking thing. It's pink and it's definitely one of Keith's favorites. He gently places the rabbit on the makeshift bed Keith has created and then looks back at the toddler with a smile.

“So, this bed is for Bunny, huh?” Hunk asks, using the name Keith gave the stuffed rabbit.

Keith nods enthusiastically, clapping his hands together. “Bunny need a comfy bed. She needa nap or she get g'umpy.”

Hunk chuckled. That sounded like a certain someone he knew. “Does she need a blanket to sleep? She might get cold.”

Keith nods, picking up his blankie and tucking it around the bed. He sits quietly for a moment, watching Keith’s concentration as he carefully adjusts the stuffed rabbit on the bed. Hunk’s heart swells with affection seeing how serious Keith is when he's trying to make sure his stuffed animal is comfortable.

“Bunny had a big day. She's ek-saw-haw-sa-ted. She feel betta’ afta nap” Keith says, carefully enunciating the syllables as he pats the bunny and leans down to tap his pacifier on the stuffed animals head in what Hunk interprets as some kind of goodnight kiss. That's so cute he feels like he might explode.

“Well, Bunny is very lucky to have such a nicely made bed,” Hunk says, gushing. 

Keith seems to beam at the praise. He crawls forward until he's climbing onto Hunk from where he is sitting with his legs crossed. To avoid being kneed or elbowed (he knows this from prior experience- last time he was too excited at being chosen to think of adjusting Keith as he climbed him like a tree) he pulls Keith up into his lap so that the boys back is against his chest.

 “Why, hello there,” he says, smiling wide. Keith hums happily as he plants a smooch onto the side of his head. “Look who came to visit me! A little lap visiting friend. Does someone maybe want lots of hugs and snuggles and cuddles?” 

“Me! Me!” Keith says in between laughs, squirming happily as Hunks arms wrap all the way around him. It's difficult to resist the urge to tickle Keith, especially when there is a little bit of his tummy showing from where his shirt has ridden up, but Hunk resists and gently tugs down his shirt. Keith was feeling safe and loved, he didn't want to break up this cozy little moment yet. 

“You're such a good boy, Keith. You just wanna be held, huh?” Hunk says as Keith relaxes, content to sit in his hold. He doesn't squirm or get bored, usually. Sometimes, Keith will allow himself to be held upwards of half an hour. He wonders what happened to big Keith, when his little counterpart is such a cuddle bug. 

“Hey.”

Hunk looked up, seeing Pidge leaning against the playpen wall, an unreadable expression on her face. 

“When you're done with…that could you help me with a line of code? I know cryptography isn't really your thing, but I just need a second pair of eyes to know I'm not going crazy.”

He sighed. She had such an aversion to little Keith that it made Hunk worried that the baby wouldn't get the memo that big people could be nice people and there was no reason to be scared of being little- he was hoping that message would maybe leak through to Big Keith, since that's what had landed them here in the first place. Well, he was going to try at least, to ease this tension.

“Who's that?” Hunk said playfully, pointing up at Pidge, with a faux surprised expression.

The little boy smiled. He knew this one! “Is Pish!” He lisped out, pointing excitedly.

“Yay! Very good, job!” Hunk clapped his hands excitedly but gently in front of Keith. After the little boy squeaked excitedly, Hunk addressed his fellow teenager. “Why don't you go grab your laptop and bring it here? I'm not a coding mastermind like you, but I can take a peek.” He suggested, giving the baby in his arms another dramatic smooch on the cheek. 

Pidge stared at Hunk, clearly skeptical but not entirely dismissive. “You want me to bring my laptop into the playpen? And you think Keith will be okay with that?”

“Yeah, just bring it here. Why? Is that a problem?” Hunk lightly challenged, making sure to keep his tone light so as to not upset the little person in his arms. 

Keith, who was still nestled comfortably in Hunk’s lap, looked up at Pidge with wide, curious eyes. “Pish! Pish! Hun’ is Pish comin in to p'ay?” he asked, clearly excited at the prospect of having Pidge join them.

Hunk smiled, giving Keith another gentle squeeze. “Yep, that’s right. Shes coming in but shes not playing right now- she needs our help.” He looked to Pide. “And don’t worry, Keith loves having people around. Just be mindful of his toys and try not to disturb his little setup too much.”

Pidge hesitated for a moment, her gaze shifting between Hunk and Keith. After a beat, she sighed and walked over to her desk, grabbing her laptop with a resigned shrug. “Alright, fine. But if he starts to get fussy or anything, I’m out of here.”

Hunk nodded encouragingly. “Deal. If this guy gets fussy, you’ll be the first to know. But I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Keith looked between them with a smile on his face, oblivious to the fact that he was the subject of the latest exchange. 

Hunk wanted to smooch all over his cute face and pick him up. Ugh he got such cuteness agression- it was insanity. He just loved small animals and babies, even Keith sized ones. 

Pidge gingerly approached the playpen, her laptop in tow. Keith’s eyes followed every movement with keen interest. When Pidge finally settled into the playpen, Keith’s face lit up in a broad grin.

“Pish! We he'p you fiss you com-poo-ta!” Keith waved his hands excitedly, thrilled that Pidge was joining them. Pidge, clearly taken aback by the warm reception, couldn’t help but crack a small smile and wave back.“Alright, alright, let’s see what we can do here.”

Hunk carefully shifted Keith so that he could comfortably sit beside Pidge while still holding him close. He glanced over at Pidge’s screen and saw a complex line of code displayed. Oogh. That would make his head hurt to stare at, too. 

“So, what’s the problem?” Hunk asked, peering over Pidge’s shoulder.

Pidge pointed to a specific part of the code. “I’m trying to debug this encryption algorithm, but I’m getting errors- but…there shouldnt be. I thought maybe a second set of eyes could help.”

Hunk leaned in, trying to decipher the code while keeping one eye on Keith, who was now eyeing Pidge’s laptop’s touchpad with great fascination.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Hunk said thoughtfully. “I don’t know much about coding, but maybe if we…oh, Keith, are you trying to help?”

Keith giggled and tapped at the touchpad, unintentionally causing a few windows to shift. “Yes- I helpin Pish fisk it” he said with a grin.

Pidge’s initial skepticism melted a bit as she watched the interaction. “Cant say Ive tried fixing it like that…Well, I guess he’s giving it his best shot. Not like he can make a faulty line of code fail more. ” 

Hunk chuckled and adjusted Keith so he could more comfortably see Pidge’s laptop. “Easy on the keys, buddy- we need to be careful with other people's things. This one is Pidge’s and she would be very sad to see it broken.”

Keith gave a nod slowly, as if taking in the sage wisdom. He gently tapped at keys, lines of gibberish in the command terminal that had it giving back code error messages, pinging with similar messages mixed with Keith's varieties of key mashing.

“Looks like Keith’s got just as much of an idea of how to fix this as we do.” Hunk laughed.

As they worked through the problem, Pidge seemed less focused on the mess of code and more on Keith’s infectious enthusiasm. The awkwardness began to fade, and even Pidge started to relax a bit, drawn into the comfortableness of the moment.

“Well, thanks anyways. I'll find a work around for this eventually. It'll come to me at 3am just when I'm drifting off- I know it will. No use braining myself with it now.” Pidge paused. “ and…Keith,” Pidge said, her tone softening as she glanced at the little, addressing him for the first time since he had dropped. “You did a good job. Thanks for the help.” She patted the top of his head lightly as she stood and gathered her things.

Keith beamed, clearly pleased with the praise, and snuggled closer to Hunk. “Pish happy! I help!” He yell whispered to Hunk conspiratorially. 

Hunk smiled, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “Looks like it’s a win-win all around. What do you guys say after all of this coding that we get some lunch?”

“Sure. Why not? I could use a break before I start working on my Galra tracker.” Pidge said, putting her laptop down on the nearby desk. 

Hunk glanced at Keith, who was still sitting comfortably in his lap, his eyes half-closed in contentment. “How does that sound, buddy? Ready for some lunch?”

Keith looked up, his face lighting up with a sleepy smile. “Lunch? Yay! Are you makin food, Hunk?”

Hunk carefully lifted Keith from his lap and stood up, holding the little boy securely. “Im gonna try, little buddy. Alright, let’s head to the kitchen and see what we can find.” 

Chapter Text

Keith was maybe having one of the best sleeps of his life when he was rudely awoken.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Lance's cheerful voice cut through the drowsiness. “Time to get up, get dressed, and eat the most important meal of the day.”

He groaned and rolled back over. He kind of felt like shit, and he wanted to be left alone, but alas it didn't seem like Lance was going to leave. And when had Lance started barging into his room to wake him up? Usually, a knock on the door was all it took.

He was about to reply that he was waking up, and that Lance could go fuck himself when a loud ‘clack’ and something being moved sounded.

He blinked open his eyes and immediately regretted it. Lance was lowering the bars of the crib. Oh yeah, he was in his crib.

Wait, what?

Keith’s confusion deepened as he surveyed the room. The room, which was supposed to be his bedroom, but looked to be a refurbished unoccupied bunk room, was now unmistakably decorated like a nursery. The walls were a soft pastel color, adorned with alien cartoon animals. The bed was still there but it had been installed with rails on it, and on the dresser were a variety of baby bottles and pacifiers. They even had a changing table and rocking chair in here.

“Oh no, no, no,” Keith muttered, panic rising.

He also realized, with a flush of mortification, that he was mostly bare except for a t- shirt and a diaper, and that blankie and Bunny (he had never had a bunny had he? Why did he know its name?) had made it into the crib too. Why was he- he briefly recalled plummeting into one hell of a drop, and the rest was a blur. He was pretty sure he had been little for days.

Oh he would never live this down.

A warm hand brushed his thigh as Lance clearly intended to pick him up. He shoved him off and sat up. “Don't touch me! I… what's going on?” He said, somewhat hysterical.

Lance’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, quiznack—you're back, Keith.”

“Lance, what the hell is going on?”

Lances look of surprise quickly morphed into irritation. “Well hello to you too, and welcome back to the land of the living.”

“What is this?” Keith hissed, more embarrassed than he had ever been but trying to maintain his composure. Obviously his long-hidden secret was now out in the open. He couldn’t remember much after that night where Hunk and Lance had walked in on him, honestly he couldn't remember a lot of things and it was disorienting at best, and mortifying at worst. He remembered clinging to Lance and bawling his eyes out and… oh god he had definitely wet his pants. Oh fuck, they had probably changed him multiple times.

Lance crossed his arms, clearly still not pleased. “What’s going on? What's going on is that you were little, Keith. For a week, you were pretty dang small And since someone didn't tell anybody that was a possibility, we were super unprepared to deal with it.”

“It's not like I meant to be little- I just… I didn't think it would happen like that. I didn't want to… I don't know. I didn't want you guys to have to deal with that. When I get like that I know it can be… “ Keith trailed off, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“A lot of things,” Lance cut him off, frustration evident. “You don’t remember, but you were scared, upset, and sometimes completely out of it. We had to feed you, change you, and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. It was exhausting.”

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn't want any of this to happen. You think that I don't know this isn't my fault?”

Lance shook his head sharply. “Shut up and listen, I've been sitting on this all week. None of this was your fault, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult. But what you need to understand is that taking better care of yourself could’ve prevented the awful way this happened. You were supposed to be de-stressing when you were little but you were so unhappy for so much of it. We were all so worried about you. And you – you deserve a little happiness, Keith. Being little isnt supposed to be a bad thing, which I really thought you would have realized at some point in your life, but you keep punishing yourself and holding yourself back like you think you deserve to suffer.”

Keith flinched at Lance’s words, the sting of them making his cheeks burn even more. He shifted uncomfortably in the crib. His eyes met Lance’s, seeing the raw emotion there—frustration mixed with genuine concern.

“I didn’t want any of this,” Keith repeated. “I didn’t want to be a burden, or to be coddled or treated like a kid, but I didn't realize it would affect everyone like this,” Keith said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. “I thought I could handle it alone, that I could keep everything under control.”

Lance’s expression softened slightly, though the frustration was still present. “That’s the thing, Keith. I don't care if you're the head of Voltron- that doesn't mean you're supposed to handle everything alone. We’re a team. We’re supposed to support each other, not just when things are going well but especially when they’re falling apart.”

Keith nodded slowly, staring at the colorful nursery décor around him and shuddering. “I know I messed up.” His throat tightened. “I just didn’t want to let everyone down. I should be able to take care of myself- I can take care of myself. I've been doing it a long time.”

“I know you can, Keith. It’s okay to admit you need help. It’s okay to take a step back and let people be there for you. You do it for us, no questions asked, and we have no problem doing it for you. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.” Lance said blowing out a breath, anger giving way to concern.

“I know.” Keith rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the past week catching up with him. “I’m sorry for making things so…challenging. I never wanted to put you guys through this.” Keith looked up, his eyes meeting Lance’s. “It's just. Being little is really hard for me and… Its tougher because Shiro’s not here. He's my- he was…”

Lance sighed, walking over to sit beside Keith on the edge of the crib. “I know. I can't imagine how hard that must've been. I'm betting you've never had to manage your little time without Shiro, and well, I imagine Shiro's one hell of a caregiver.”

Keith gave a wet laugh, wiping his eyes. “Yeah. He is.” They sat together in silence, staring ahead of them and letting the heavy wave of emotions pass.

“Thanks, Lance. For everything. I’ll try to do better. I promise.”

A flicker of relief shone in Lance's eyes as he nodded. “That’s all we can ask for. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and out of this room. We’ve got a lot to discuss and a lot of catching up to do. But first, you need to be comfortable.”

Cleaned up…? Keith’s face flushed with heat, and he shifted awkwardly in the crib, suddenly acutely aware of the cold wetness around his groin. “Oh, um, yeah…I'll uhm. Take care of that.” He didn't look down, knowing it would draw Lance's gaze to his wet diaper too. This was so embarrassing. He wanted to throw himself out of the airlock.

Lance, sensing Keith's discomfort, looked at him with sympathetic expression. “Need help?” he offered gently, his tone softening further.

Keith shook his head quickly, though his voice came out strained. “No, I… I’ve got it. I just need a minute. I'll get it in a sec.”

Lance nodded, like it was no big deal, which it probably wasn't for the other man if he had been well and truly little for a week. “Sure.”

Keith winced at the thought of the whole week being revealed in full detail. When he was really little. Oh god it was going to be so embarrassing. “I’m not looking forward to all the stories.”

Lance chuckled softly. “Well, brace yourself. You were super cute and Hunk might be a little disappointed that you woke up big. He's a little Keith superfan.”

Keith managed a small, self-deprecating smile at Lance’s attempt to lighten the mood. He hopped off of the crib, and Lance followed suit. “I need to change into different clothes and I feel like I need a shower. Meet you at breakfast?” He asked.

“Sure thing,” Lance said with a nod. “I’ll prepare everyone and warn them to try to keep the stories to a minimum until you’re ready.”

He shoved some pants on before he left, he felt naked in just a shirt and diaper. The walk to the shower felt longer than usual, the memories of the past week crashing over him like waves. It was weird to have memories and feelings that he didn't have before. They had given him bubble baths. He had played tag with Allura in this hallway. He was being carried to his room because he was so tired he was crying. He tried to push them aside, focusing instead on the immediate needs of cleaning up and regaining some semblance of normalcy.

His room was clean, when he entered it. His bed had been made. No clothes were strewn over the floor and the depressing musk that had previously permeated the room had somehow been aired out. Someone had put a nightlight in the space between his bed and the bathroom. Keith was touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

When he got to the bathroom he undressed and threw away the wet diaper into the receptacle under his sink, briefly surprised when he had found it emptied.

As Keith stepped into the shower, he let the warm water cascade over him, hoping it would wash away more than just the remnants of his time spent little. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to deal with it, despite what he owed to his team for dealing with him. After what felt like an eternity, he emerged, feeling somewhat refreshed but still apprehensive.

He dressed quickly, choosing clothes that felt comfortable and familiar. It was hard to ignore how getting dressed had felt too easy. Before his embarrassing drop, getting dressed had been hard. Buttons seemed impossibly small and stubborn, zippers would snag, and the mere act of pulling on a shirt had often left him frustrated- he could never find the right hole for his head. Now, standing in front of the mirror, he marveled at how effortlessly he was able to do these things. His hands were steady, his movements sure.

Lance was right to smack some sense into him. When had things gotten so bad?

Keith’s heart raced as he walked into the dining room. The atmosphere, usually filled with the comforting hum of morning conversations, felt charged with an awkward silence. All eyes were on him, and he shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. Clearly, Lance had told them he was coming.

The way they stared made Keith’s skin crawl. He had expected some degree of discomfort, but the intensity of their attention was overwhelming. His steps faltered slightly, but he pushed forward, determined not to let his nervousness show.

Lance’s earlier words about Hunk being a “little Keith superfan” echoed in his mind, adding to his anxiety. He wasn’t sure he was ready for any kind of teasing, no matter how good-natured it might be. He knew he had to face his team and make things right, but the thought of reliving the past week, especially through their eyes, was daunting.

Lance met his eyes, giving him an encouraging nod.

“Morning, everyone,” Keith said, trying to sound casual, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Coran, with his usual jovial air, was the first to break the silence. “Well, good morning, Keith! I see you’re back to your normal self.”

Keith managed a weak smile. “Morning, Coran. Yeah, I’m… I’m back. Thanks for, uh, everything.”

Allura, always perceptive, noticed his discomfort and gave him a reassuring smile. “We’re just glad you’re okay, Keith. We were all quite worried about you.”

“Keith!” Hunk said excitedly, standing up to give Keith a hug. “It’s good to see you, man!”

Keith accepted the hug, feeling the air leave his lungs as Hunk hugged him hard enough that his feet left the ground. “Thanks, Hunk. It's good to see you too.”

“I'm so glad you're OK! We missed you, dude. We were worried sick!” Hunk said, empathetically, putting him down.

He took a moment to steady himself, trying to gather his thoughts before responding. “I…” He turned to the room. “I’m sorry for worrying you guys. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand. I know I go pretty small, but it sounds like I was…a lot.”

Hunk shook his head, a friendly grin on his face. “We’ve all been a lot, sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less of a leader or a friend.”

Pidge, who had been unusually quiet, walked over to him with a stormy look on her face. Her intense gaze was pinned on him. He was braced for yelling, or even a slap on the arm, but was surprised when she wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face into his chest.

“Don't ever do that again.” She said, voice tight, squeezing him tightly.

Keith stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard by Pidge’s unexpected embrace. Her words, spoken softly but with clear upset, struck a chord deep within him.

“Pidge…” he started, his voice thick with emotion. He gently rested his hands on her back, unsure of how to respond but feeling a surge of gratitude. “I never really meant for…Next time I swear I'll—”

The younger girl pulled back slightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “We know. We know you wouldn't do it that way again. But you’re important to us, Keith. It hurt seeing you like that, and we just want you to be okay. And for the record, I think you're really stupid for hiding a part of who you are. Trust me, I know its not fun.”

Keith nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. Everyone knew what he was, and no one hated him. He was wrong, so wrong about this group.

“I promise,” Keith said softly, his voice steadying, “I’ll try to be more aware of how I’m handling things. I'll let myself be..helped. I don’t want to put you all through that again.”

“And…” Keith’s eyes welled up, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding over him as he turned to address the room. “Thank you, guys. For taking care of me.”

Coran, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together. “Now that we’ve all had a good reunion, let’s focus on moving forward. We have a lot of catching up to do, and I’m sure Keith would appreciate starting the day with something less emotional—like a hearty breakfast.”

Despite the embarrassment and discomfort, there was a comforting sense of belonging. Keith knew he had a long road ahead to fully process everything, but for now,
Keith took a seat at the table, feeling the familiar comfort of being among friends.

“Alright. Tell me what I've missed.”