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Find the Red Lion on your own, they said. You’ll be fine, they said. Yeah, sure. That was going about as well as the ‘distract Sendak with the Blue and Yellow Lions’ plan was. Which, considering that he was being chased through the ship by the Galra in question, could be summed up as not well.
Keith rounded another corner at top speed, nearly skidding into the opposite wall. He was trying to get ahead of Sendak, enough to possibly get the jump on him, but for how bulky he was the guy was crazy fast. He kept right on Keith’s heels, their footsteps echoing loudly down the metal hallway in tandem.
“You can’t run forever!”
Man, tell him something he didn’t know. His lungs were burning, but it wasn’t like he had any other choice.
Ahead of him, at the end of the hall, there was a door with a blinking green light beside it. Praying that green means go in space, too, Keith slammed into the door control and darted through.
It led into a hangar. In the center, suspended in mid air, was a big red ball with something metal in the center.
Well, that was convenient. He must’ve still been following the Red Lion’s energy without realizing-- maybe because of how long he’d pursued Blue’s in the desert. Nifty.
But before he could take even a step, a clawed hand hooked into the back of his armor. He was yanked back into the wall just next to the door, with a resounding clang that ricocheted through Keith’s skull until his eyes lost focus.
In that moment of fuzziness, a different emotion rose up to consume the single track his frenzied brain had chosen to focus on; an overwhelming feeling of what the hell am I doing? This time yesterday he’d been alone in his little desert shack, telling himself over and over that nothing was going to happen on the date of the carvings so that he wouldn’t be disappointed when it inevitably came to pass. Not even twenty four hours later he was in a completely different solar system, running from a giant, purple, fuzzy alien while trying to gain the trust of a semi-sentient spaceship shaped like a lion.
What the actual hell?
He was dragged back to his strange reality by Sendak’s low, menacing laugh. He was keeping Keith pinned with one hand-- the one that was still flesh and blood. His other arm was a massive clawed prosthetic, with a threatening orb of electricity as a joint. Because that was something that happened in his life now, apparently.
The comms crackled, and Keith cringed.
“Keith? What was that?” At the sound of Shiro’s voice, Keith’s heart leapt so hard Sendak probably felt it through his chestplate. He still hadn’t convinced his brain that Shiro being alive wasn’t just an impossible dream he would wake up from at any moment.
One of Sendak’s chinchilla-like ears twitched. Then he smirked, flashing Keith a look at the yellow fangs that filled his jaw.
“Keith?”
Slowly, Sendak leaned in close, until Keith was gagging on the breath that fogged up his visor with every exhale.
“What’s this?” he growled. “A link to your friends?” Chills ran down Keith’s arms at the tone. It may be coming from an alien mouth, but he knew that tone. The ‘I’m going to hurt you and enjoy it’ tone.
The catch in Shiro’s voice was audible. “Keith? What-- what’s happening?”
Keith ground his teeth. He hadn’t often heard Shiro’s voice crack like that, and the majority of those occurrences had been within the last twenty four hours. It put the heat back in his blood-- no matter what, he had to get back to Shiro. He summoned his bayard into his hand, and after a half second to consider where to hit, took a swing at Sendak’s head.
The galra easily blocked it with his prosthetic, the blade bouncing off with a harmless tink.
“You should know,” he continued, casually, into Keith’s mic. “I have your little saboteur pinned, and if the other Lions are not returned to me in the next five doboshes, I’ll make you all listen as I--”
Keith jerked his knee up, nailing Sendak right between the legs. It was a risk-- who knew if aliens had the same weak spots as humans-- but this time it paid off. Sendak crumpled, giving Keith just enough time to wriggle free of his grip and make a break for the Red Lion. Maybe it would’ve been smarter to go for the door, but instinctively he knew the Lion was the better option. He’d have a better chance in something he could fly.
Sendak was quick, though. He’d barely taken three steps before the metal pincers of Sendak’s prosthetic locked around his torso and yanked him back. This time the impact made him see stars, and the pain flaring in his chest coupled with the sound that punched out of him said he’d just broken a rib.
It took his breath away. It had been a while since the last time he broke a bone, and he’d forgotten how much it hurt. It was probably the pain twisting his perceptions that made him hear Sendak snarl, “Filthy little halfbreed,” at him. Or maybe that term meant something else in whatever language Sendak was speaking. Or the translator in his helmet wasn’t working right. It didn’t really matter-- there were other things he had to worry about.
Like Sendak, saying,“New terms. Now I’m just going to hurt him until the rest of you surrender the Lions.”
There was a babble of panicked voices over the comms, quickly overpowered by the ominous cracking of electricity from Sendak’s prosthetic. The orb in the center grew, snapping sparks, the light casting sinister shadows over Sendak’s fangs and cheekbones. Keith tried to struggle, but only for a moment before the agony hit.
His vision went white as it tore through him. It burned, licking his muscles with flames as they all seized up. He tasted blood, probably from his teeth in his tongue, but he couldn’t be sure; it all melted together into a boiling vat of pain.
Eventually, it stopped. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but for Keith it was an eternity, and the moment it ended he went limp in Sendak’s grasp, gasping for air.
If the others were still yelling, he couldn’t hear them over the ringing in his ears. When he got his eyes open again the hangar was tilting around him, Sendak’s sickening smirk at the center, with the grey eyes of the Red Lion hovering just above his head.
Sendak’s lips moved. Keith had no idea what he was saying, but it was undoubtedly going to be a taunt before zapping him again.
He really didn’t want to get zapped again. He didn’t have time to think of anything clever like he had back at the Garrison, and the same instinct he’d been feeling all his life was taking hold. When in doubt, when you’re threatened, run. He only had time to take in one detail before it swept him away.
He was wearing a helmet. Sendak was not.
Admittedly, it did hurt when they slammed their heads together. Pain sparked behind his eyes and his vision went Tilt-A-Whirl again; he probably had a concussion. But there was no time to worry about it. Sendak’s grip had loosened and he wouldn’t get a third chance.
Running was hard when his limbs felt like jello, but the adrenaline pushed him through it even as his vision kept spinning. He must’ve stunned Sendak pretty good, because this time he made it all the way across the hangar, slamming into the control panel in front of the Lion with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. It hurt, but there was no time to scream.
Gasping, he looked up. The Lion’s eyes were still grey, and he still couldn’t feel any of the bonding Allura had said should happen. Maybe if Pidge was still here he could’ve told Keith what to expect, but he wasn’t. He was on his own again, just as alone as he’d been for the last year, and Sendak would be on him any second.
There was a big red button on the panel. Keith barely took the time to seal his visor and say a quick prayer before pressing it.
Somewhere, a dim alarm began to blare as the hangar door opened beneath his feet. He heard Sendak bellow with rage; Keith clung to the control panel for dear life. A glance over his shoulder showed the Galra commander hanging onto the door frame with his prosthetic.
That glance cost him. Debris was being sucked out into space as the room opened to the void, and one such piece flew right into him when he wasn’t looking, dealing yet another blow to his already battered head. And with his muscles still weak from the shocks, there was nothing Keith could do to stop himself from being pulled out into the stars.
Instantly his visor lit up with warnings and flashing lights. The stars spinning behind them made his stomach churn and his head ache, so he closed his eyes and forced himself to take a steadying breath. The phrase patience yields focus crossed his mind, only to be discarded. It was useless, anyway.
When he opened his eyes again, he was being swallowed up by something red.
Everything after that was a blur. Shiro unlocked the Black Lion. They flew out to face Sendak. They got caught. They almost died.
It’s been an honor flying with you boys, he’d said. Honestly, after a year of flying nothing, it was an honor to be flying at all.
Then, somehow, they’d formed Voltron. Keith still wasn’t completely certain how they did it, but thank God they did, otherwise they all would’ve wound up dead, including the magic space princess and her weird advisor.
He made it down Red’s ramp and collapsed the second he felt solid earth-- or ground, he supposed, under his feet. So much of him was aching he couldn’t tell the different hurts apart. His whole body was just one exposed nerve.
“Keith!”
He was on his knees, sitting in the dirt in front of the Red Lion’s ramp. Keith looked up, still blinking away stars, and saw Shiro hurrying down Black’s ramp, ripping off his helmet as he went.
“Are you alright?” he asked as he dropped into a kneel. “What happened back there?”
Shiro’s hands were shaking. So was Keith. Shiro put those shaking hands on Keith’s shoulders, only to immediately recoil when Keith winced.
“Sendak,” he found himself muttering. “Got me pinned down for a minute or two.”
Shiro’s face was a blur, but as far as Keith could tell, it was a concerned blur. “I could feel you hurting,” he answered in a choked voice. “When we formed Voltron. We need to go to the infirmary.”
Keith looked towards the Castle. There were two shapes coming out of it, heading in their direction. “Looks like the Princess wants to talk to us.”
“We can celebrate later,” said Shiro, firmly. “You need to get fixed up.”
It wasn’t until that exact moment that the weight of the situation bore down on him. They were soldiers now. They were really in a war, there was really a maniac out there conquering entire solar systems one by one, and the five of them, four of them eighteen and under, were supposed to stop him.
He was so, so tired.
“Come on,” Shiro was saying, pulling one of Keith’s arms over his shoulders to help him up. Then he called, “Coran! Will you take us to the infirmary, please?”
Even after a year of hell, Shiro still remembered his manners. It made Keith laugh despite the pain it caused, and he kept chuckling to himself even as Coran led them back into the Castle. If the Princess or the other kids had said anything about his condition, he hadn’t heard them, which was probably for the best-- Lance probably already had a few mocking remarks lined up. At least that detail would be familiar. No matter where he went, there was always someone looking to knock him down a peg.
The door to the infirmary made a soft swish sound as it opened. Keith jolted a bit at it, for a moment being thrown back into the wall by Sendak, but Shiro’s grip was grounding enough to keep him in the here and now… mostly. Until Keith’s brain skipped back even further, and the words escaped him without permission.
“You said I’d be fine.”
Shiro stopped dead.
“Keith--”
“I wasn’t fine.”
There was a ringing silence-- Keith’s hearing was still all jacked, and neither Coran nor Shiro had anything to say, until the latter sighed.
“Coran, will you excuse us for a few minutes?”
“Of course,” he answered quietly, quickly, before fleeing the room like his life depended on it. Shiro stayed silent until the door swished shut, then he loosened his grip on Keith, trying to turn so that they would be face to face.
“Keith,” he began, slowly and deliberately. “I--”
“I wasn’t fine,” said Keith again. The words were blunt and unfocused-- he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, exactly, but he had to say something. He couldn’t hold it in.
“I’m sorry,” Shiro said, just as carefully as before. “You were right. We shouldn’t have split up in there. But you found the Red Lion, on your own, and I’m so proud of you.”
Keith clenched his fist in frustration, the one that wasn’t wrapped around his torso, cradling his broken rib. It was probably the concussion, but he couldn’t think. He couldn’t find the words he wanted. All he had were these. “You said I’d be fine.”
“I know--”
“I wasn’t fine!” he shouted, shoving Shiro as hard as he could with only one hand. All it did was make Shiro sway a bit, but the surprise on his face packed the force the shove hadn’t. Suddenly his eyes were burning; Keith squeezed them shut and turned his head away, but he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking when he continued. “You left me alone again, and you said it would be fine, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t.”
Shiro let out a breath. “You’re not just talking about today, are you?”
Keith gave a humiliating little sniffle and didn’t answer. His throat was too tight, if he tried to talk he’d just break down, and he couldn’t afford that. He had to be strong. He wouldn’t be able to survive on his own if he let himself feel like this. He’d learned that lesson the day he was kicked out of the Garrison.
“Oh, Keith.” Ever so gently, Shiro brought his hands up and pulled Keith’s helmet from his head. Keith kept his eyes closed, but that didn’t stop Shiro from drawing him close again and wrapping his arms around him, unfamiliar metal fingers curling between the strands of Keith’s hair in a familiar gesture. “I’m so sorry.”
Keith shook his head against Shiro’s shoulder, even though it hurt. This shouldn’t have been happening. He’d just gotten Shiro back, and he’d obviously been through so much, the last thing Keith should be doing was yelling at him and making him feel guilty for things that were beyond his control.
“You-- I-- I know you didn’t-- didn’t mean to,” Keith stuttered out between silent, painful sobs. But Shiro just pressed his cheek to the crown of Keith’s head and heaved a shuddering breath of his own.
“No, I didn’t mean to. But that doesn’t change what happened, does it?”
Keith wound his free arm around Shiro’s middle and squeezed as hard as he could. Shiro got the message and let out a wet sounding chuckle.
“We should really have this conversation after you’ve been treated.”
“Yeah.” With another quiet sniffle, Keith pulled away. “Do you think Alteans have magic healing stuff, too?”
“I hope so,” Shiro answered. “Otherwise it’s gonna take us a long time to save the universe.”
Somehow, even with all of the pain, Keith managed to laugh.