Chapter Text
Boots slammed against the dark metal floors of the Galra Battleship as a Marmoran Lieutenant raced down the winding hall. His last transmission to the Paladins of Voltron was only met with silence and a violent rush of static. They had only separated for half a varga to plant the Marmoran bug into the Galra system, so they could monitor command without putting their organization at risk or other personnel. The Voltron coalition had been met with more resistance after Sendak took the Galra Throne under the watchful eyes of the witch, Hagar.
He pressed his finger against a small button on the inside of his palm on the suit as he sharply rounded a corner and checked the ship map Pidge had sent him with their locations, “Paladins! I’m on my way to your location! Please respond!”
Every step taken without response added to the growing pit in his stomach. The lieutenant couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Pidge’s map showed that the Paladins were fine, but the small dots that represented the five hadn’t moved once in the past two doboshes, which was not normal at all. The Lieutenant slid to a stop outside a large hangar door, quickly slamming his hands against the control panel. The door opened agonizingly slowly with an aching creak before stopping with just enough room for the lieutenant to roll under the door.
The smell of copper and burning skin was what hit him first, then he saw the bodies. Four paladins lay lifelessly on the metal floor. Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Lance lay in a pool of their own blood. The notable absence of Shiro only makes things worse. A choked sob breaks from him as he falls to his knees in front of the bodies of the Paladins. His hood and mask fell, long, meticulously braided black hair loosely fell from his hood as he heard a groan come from Lance. Greyish-purple eyes locked onto the Paladin in blue as he stumbled and tripped over himself in his haste to get to Lance.
"Lance! Oh, quiznak, Lance, you're alive," He cried as he lifted Lance’s head into his lap, taking note of the deep gash in the taller man's side that was steadily bleeding out. Lance’s skin was turning a sickly pale color as the whites of his eyes seemed yellowed from how bloodshot they were.
Lance raised a weak hand to cup the black-haired man's cheek. "Hey, Keith… what’s up? I probably look like shit right now, huh?” Lance tried to laugh, only to start hacking. He took a deep, hissing breath as Keith pressed his hand over the gash in his side in hopes of slowing the bleeding.
Keith looked down at Lance, tears still flowing down his cheek as he struggled to smile at the Red Paladin’s attempt to lighten the situation, “Yeah, you do. I’m sending out a beacon to the Blades for help, okay? We’re-” Keith swallows down a sob as he catches sight of the other bodies in the room, “We’re going to get out of here, you and me,” Keith’s voice comes out as a whisper as he turns his head away from Lance and presses another button on his suit.
Lance was quiet for a moment as his eyes, half open, wandered. Keith heard a soft whine come from the man, before what he could only describe as a choked wail followed, “No… Please… Keith, they aren’t…” Lance’s voice got weaker with every word. Keith could see the light starting to leak out of Lance’s eyes as the blue-eyed man stared at where Allura lay lifelessly.
Keith wrapped his free arm around Lance tightly as he let himself fall apart, tears flowing like twin rivers down his cheeks, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Lance!” Keith sobbed as he held Lance for dear life. He hunched over the last person he had left, pulling Lance against his chest like he could shield the paladin from the pain of loss. Keith knew he couldn’t, though. He couldn’t even save himself from that pain. Every time he closed his eyes to blink away tears, he remembered the moments that he’d spent with Allura, Pidge, and Hunk.
He’d never forget the late nights he spent keeping Pidge company while she worked on new weapons to use against Sendak and the reunited Galra Empire, or when she’d call him and Matt through the deep-space communicator she’d made him for advice on how to grow out her hair. He’d never forget the smile on her face when he’d surprised her on her eighteenth birthday by showing up unannounced with the schematics for one of the Marmora bases she liked after begging Kolivan for the day off. He’d never forget when she’d first called him her honorary big brother.
He’d never forget the days when Hunk had tried to teach him to bake, or how they’d laugh together when Keith would burn something. He’d never forget the nights when Hunk would hold him close as he cried about losing Shiro, then when they found the Black Paladin again. He’d never forget all of the stories Hunk would tell about his mother and father, about cooking with his family, how he’d promise to introduce him to everyone when everything was over. He’d never forget the stupid jokes Hunk would make, thinking he was the most witty and clever guy in the Castle, which he was, in Keith’s humble opinion.
He’d never forget Allura. Never forget the secret training nights that she’d hoped would let her use her father’s old broadsword. Or when she’d nearly begged him to help her cut her hair when he visited with Kolivan for his twentieth birthday. He’d never stop thinking about when they would call and just talk about boys like normal teens, when he was just a cadet at the Blades. The way she’d gossip about what was going on in the castle. The way she talked about Lotor. The strategy talks, and how they would eventually devolve into talking about the newest additions to the rebellion or her newest bonding time with Blue.
Keith could feel Lance shaking as he, too, cried for the loss of those closest to him. Keith opened his eyes to look at Lance, who was covering his face. Keith could feel Lance getting colder