Summary: SEQUEL to 'Picture Perfect People' - Voltron collapsed, but for the paladins it couldn't drag them with it. The certain skills of one programmer in particular ensured that. Now, with a Voltron of their very own, the paladins can maintain that which they've striven so hard to build.

Allura heals from her surgery. Hunk graduates from school. Keith ends his days in the system and Lance struggles to patch together a life outside of that he's always accepted for himself. Pidge learns self-acceptance in the most grueling way possible and Shiro - Shiro finally embraces the limb that he thought he never deserved. But it's not that simple. It could never be that simple, because trials arise at every turn.

The support of a few friends, however, could more than make up for the challenges.

Rating: T

Tags: Keith/Lance, Shiro/Allura, Sequel, Alternate Universe - Modern AU, Episodic, Friendship, Mutual Support, Building Lives, Chatroom, Chatroom Conversations, Minor Character Death, Original Characters, Military References, Army Life, Missions,

A/N: Just a bit of a heads up here, everyone.

First and foremost, welcome! To those who are joining me from the prequel, welcome back, and those who aren't, hello! Thanks so much for picking up this story and I hope you like it.

Updates for this fic are going to be in TWO PARTS. That means that each chapter will have at least one second chapter updated immediately after it, sort of as a sister, accompanying chapter. Be sure to check out the second chapter of Chapter 1: Hunk, which is called 'Butterfingers'. I hope you enjoy this story and that it serves to meet your expectations! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 1: Hunk

Voltron: Year 1, Month 6/12 of rebirth

Paladin of Operation: Butterfingers

Everything changed on the day Hunk lost his mom.

Literally lost her. He didn't know quite how it happened, but one minute she was at his side, as still and silent as ever in her wheelchair and simply staring with her glazed, slowly blinking eyes. Then, in the moment that Hunk turned from her to greet his teacher – or in the few moments, really – she disappeared.

Graduation was a big deal for Hunk. A very big deal. That day, with the release and jubilation blossoming on the faces of every student, the knowledge that they had reached their goal, that they were moving forwards, that they would be out and away, set smiles to lips and sparkles to eyes. Noise resounded through the wide hall of Hunk's school, ricocheting from the walls and rebounding off the ceiling in a cacophony of chatter and laughter and animated cries of congratulations. After the ceremony, it had all deteriorated into something of a party.

For Hunk, it was different. For Hunk, school had been different. He'd managed to attend enough of his final year to pass, and though it had been a trial of juggling what had become part-time work, caring for his mom and attending his classes, he had passed. He'd finished. He was done.

It was fantastic and immensely satisfying, but also just a little… sad.

Hunk would have readily discarded his heavy graduation robes, even though they were yellow and yellow had become something of his colour after being assigned as much by the old Voltron. The hat too, which most had collected after the typical 'launching into the air' ceremony. It had been fun, Hunk would admit, and he hadn't been able to banish the smile from his lips, even if the heat didn't lend itself to the graduation robes in the slightest.

Hunk had been standing alongside his mom when Mr Howard had found him, talking idly to her as though she would actually respond. His gran had momentarily disappeared in search of his friends, because apparently simply messaging them wasn't suitable for conveying directions in her opinion, and he was left alone for a brief respite.

"Are you proud of me, Mom?" Hunk asked, leaning over her shoulder and grinning at her unresponsive face. "I'd like to think you are. Did you see me up on stage? I did it, Mom. I actually did it."

It had been hard. The past half a year had been a juggling act, made only harder by his mom's brief deterioration when Hunk had started back at school. He'd almost ceased his resumption immediately at that, and would have too had not the mutual encouragement of his gran and his Voltron friends urged him otherwise. But she'd gotten better. Surprisingly, seemingly impossibly, according to many of her doctors, she was stable.

Stable. That's all I'd ever ask for. That she's stable. It was his mantra and always would be. Hunk knew what an exceptional case his mom was. Stroke victims, especially those who'd suffered not one or two but three, rarely if ever endured for so long. For Hunk, it was only proof that his mom was a survivor. Maybe she'd wanted to see him graduate too? Hunk liked to think that.

Holding out his award and certificate into his mom's lap, Hunk felt pride well within him once more. He doubted she read it – or that she could, even if she did try – but he showed her nonetheless. "My grades weren't fantastic," he muttered, "but I did well enough. I passed, Mom. Me. I actually did it."

His gran called him something of a miracle for what he'd done. Hunk was equal parts embarrassed and delighted to be told as much, especially when his friends immediately agreed with her. Hunk knew he had the best friends. The best family. He –

"Mr Garrett! Congratulations! I'd hoped to see you before the day was out."

At the sound of his name being called over the babble of voices around him, Hunk turned from his mom. Straightening, he glanced over his shoulder and felt his smile renew at the sight of Mr Howard starting towards him. He took a step towards his teacher in turn. "Mr Howard! I wouldn't leave before speaking to you."

Hunk had shared a moment with many of his teachers, just as he had with his fellow students, even if none were quite so close as to be considered best friends. He'd indeed hoped to see Mr Howard once more; his favourite teacher, he'd been the one who had signed him up to an external engineering class. Mr Howard went above and beyond for Hunk for reasons Hunk couldn't quite discern. He appreciated it, but it was confusing given that Mr Howard was only his maths teacher.

Apparently, as Mr Howard had said, he saw something special in Hunk. That conversation had promoted him to being Hunk's eighth-favourite person in the entire world. In many ways, he was even fonder of his teacher than some of his friends from the Balmeran Bakehouse. He was something exceptional.

Mr Howard was a short man, greying and wrinkling with a kindly face and bushy eyebrows. He beamed up at Hunk as Hunk turned towards him with a proud smile that Hunk fathomed would have adorned his mom's face had she been able to adopt such an expression. An identical kind had certainly been affixed to his grans for most of the afternoon, though of perhaps a fiercer variety.

"Please, call me Steve," Mr Howard said. "You're not my student anymore, after all."

Hunk grinned a little bashfully. "I don't know if I could do that just yet, sir."

Mr Howard laughed. "I know. Student-teacher familiarity is often a difficult barrier to overcome." As if in denial of his words, he clapped a companionable hand onto Hunk's shoulder. He had to reach up quite a ways to do so.

Laughing, Hunk nodded fervently. "Not that you're not awesome, Mr Howard, but I think I'll just keep calling you sir."

"When you come and visit, of course. Which you will." Mr Howard spoke affably enough but there was a hint of demand in his tone.

Hunk nodded once more. "Of course I will. I can't forget my roots."

"Ensure you don't. When you become a world-famous engineer, that is."

"World famous? That's setting the bar a little high, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Mr Howard said with a firm shake of his head. The smile he adopted was once more proud and just a little humbling. "You've got a gift, Hunk. You truly have."

That meant something to Hunk. All of it – returning to school, the late nights putting in the hours for study, caring for his mom and trying to maintain his work hours all at once – it had all been a struggle. All of it. Every day. But it had been worth it to finally learn, to finally graduate, to come out the other side knowing that he'd done it. Lance wasn't fond of school. Keith was nonchalant at best most of the time and Pidge actively disliked the hours committed to the rigid walls of an educational institution. Shiro had been dedicated enough and Allura an avid, self-declared science nerd, but even they hadn't been quite the same as Hunk. Hunk wanted to be there.

And he'd done it.

Hearing from Mr Howard that, despite his barely passable grades in most of his subjects but Mathematics and Engineering, he was special, that he 'had a gift'… that truly meant something to Hunk.

Not that he felt comfortable receiving such heartfelt compliments. Hunk felt himself flush before his old teacher, dropping his gaze to his feet as he shifted awkwardly. "Thanks, sir. Although, I think I'm more of a baker than any kind of famous-engineer material."

Mr Howard waved his words away as though shedding his fingers of a disagreeable cobweb. "Nonsense. I've seen your work, Hunk, and your it speak for you."

"Still," Hunk muttered, even if he couldn't help but smile. Blush and smile, but smile nonetheless.

"Still nothing. And besides who says you can't do both?"

Hunk blinked down at his old teacher, at the sincere and open expression he tipped towards him. "Both?"

Mr Howard shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Hunk chuckled. "Well, they're kind of at opposite ends of the spectrum , those two."

"And so? Why should that be a problem?"

"I never said it was a problem, just…"

"Did you know I used to be a boxer?"

Hunk blinked. Mr Howard, a boxer? He stared at the man before him, perhaps midway into his fifties if not a little older, and blinked some more. He couldn't see it of him, as much because of his slightly portly stature as because he was, well…

"Doesn't seem likely that a maths teacher would have an interest in boxing, does it?" Mr Howard said with a knowing smile.

"I didn't say that. You can never prove I was thinking that."

Mr Howard laughed, adding his own amusement to those of the voices that similarly rung around them. "Well, you wouldn't be the first. Not by far. I still make a habit of going to see matches, you know. My wife was always a fan of Rocky back in the day."

"And the Rocky movies are an accurate depiction of boxing?" Hunk asked.

"Not really, but my wife and I do share the interest. It helps to surround yourself with likeminded people. I have my teaching, my love for mathematics, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the sport I once participated in too."

There, Hunk thought to himself. Life lesson learnt for the day. He hadn't really expected to have any even vaguely philosophical discussions on his graduation day, nothing besides the usual empty platitudes, but he was far from objecting to it. He was fond of Mr Howard, and hearing him speak of his likes and hobbies as he did was somehow inspirational. Regardless of the fact that he'd been all but required to pursue a career in it for two years, Hunk still loved baking. He loved it almost as much as his love for engineering had grown and blossomed over the past year. He'd spent as much time as he could spare down at old Larry's hardware store of late and his mom hadn't objected.

Or at least, Hunk's gran said his mom wouldn't have objected. She always said "It 's a good thing for Maggie to get out some more," and Hunk had to agree. He thought his mom looked better for the visits to Larry's, for those he took to the local cafes to meet with his friends when his gran couldn't care for her in his absence, for his regular Saturday nights at Shiro's apartment or Allura's castle – for the estate would always be a castle to every single one of the paladins. Always incredible, regardless of how often Hunk and his friends visited.

Hunk hoped his mom would have been proud of his engineering too. No, he didn't hope. He knew she would be. Was. Behind that unshakeably blank façade, she was.

Hunk spoke to Mr Howard only a little longer – of where he was considering taking himself, of the colleges he should apply for if he hadn't already, in further congratulations and more friendly squeezes on the shoulder. Then, with a final pat of his hand, Hunk's favourite teacher took a step backwards. "Well, I'm pleased with the effort you've put in, Hunk. I'm sure I'm not the only one a little awed by you."

Heat flushed Hunk's cheeks for what could have been the tenth time that conversation. "Thank you, sir."

Mr Howard waved his gratitude aside. "Not at all, for it's the truth. Not many young men have to struggle through half of what you've managed."

"Thank you," Hunk murmured once more. Then he watched as Mr Howard took himself into the sea of surrounding students and once more dove into a conversation with a girl Hunk recalled as being called Hayley. She'd aced the grade in Mathematics that year.

Still buzzing with pride, Hunk turned back towards his mom. He was supposed to be keeping an eye out for his friends and was surprised that his gran hadn't dragged them to his side already, but he didn't mind. In the warm glow that suffused him, Hunk could hardly be frustrated with any of his friends, even if he was one to grow as such. They'd come to see him, after all. Even Pidge who, by all rights, should have been at school herself. Or himself, as he'd corrected Hunk that day.

But when Hunk turned towards his mom, she was gone.

In an instant, of confusion followed by concern then by overwhelming horror, Hunk was turning in place. Eyes widening in panic, he raked his gaze over his surroundings, attention snapping to the back of a moving head, to a bark of laughter, to a wheelchair that – no, that wasn't hers.

Where?

Where was she?

Another staggering spin on his heels and Hunk nearly tripped over himself. In that barest instant, his day had gone from jubilant and good to utterly terrifying. He could hear his heartbeat pounding too fast in his ears, his breath the only thing audible through it as even the sound of his fellow graduates faded. He was turning so fast that he could barely see at all.

Then he dove into the crowd. Hunk didn't really care about impoliteness. He tried to be, at every other chance he tried to be, but now was different. Now his mom – his mom was –

Where is she? She can't have taken herself somewhere. Where's she gone? Who moved her? Who took her?

It might have been irrational terror. It might have been illogical, for realistically, who would attend a high school graduation and abduct a handicapped woman seated barely two feet behind her son? But Hunk wasn't thinking logically. His mom was his number one priority. His responsibility. His – his –

Hunk was reaching for his phone almost without thought. For Voltron. To the Voltron that was theirs, and theirs only.

Butterfingers: Help

Butterfingers: Guys, help

Butterfingers: Please, everyone, I've

Butterfingers: lost my mom and I can't

Butterfingers: I don't know where she is

Butterfingers: Someone took her and I don't know

Sharpshooter18: Whoa, hold on a second, Butters. Calm down for a second.

BlackLion007: You've lost your mother? What do you mean?

Red: Where? Where was she last? Do you mean someone took her somewhere?

PrincessOfAltea: Oh, Butterfingers, calm down and tell us what you mean. Your mother is missing?

In seconds, almost before Hunk could get his own desperate plea out, his friends were replying. His best friends, those he could – and did – always rely upon for everything. He hadn't even met with them yet that day but they were waiting at his beck and call nonetheless.

BlackLion007: Where are you? Where did you last see your mother?

BlackLion007: Sharpshooter and the Princess are right, Butterfingers. We need to know so we can help you.

DiffWizard: Did you see someone take her? Do we need to cover the exits?

Sharpshooter18: Already way ahead of you. I'm going to the back door just in case.

Red: I'll cover the one on the east wall.

PrincessOfAltea: Calm down, Butterfingers. We'll find her, don't worry.

Hunk hadn't stopped walking for the entire time he'd been messaging and reading, but even as he frantically searched he felt himself reassured by his friends' support. He still tore his gaze around himself, still all but barrelled through teachers and ex-students and family members that didn't realise there was a crisis going on. Had there always been so many people in his grade? Surely not. It was a big school, but surely not. Hunk abruptly cursed that there were just so many.

He asked teachers if they'd seen his mom. He grabbed apologetically onto the shoulders of every passer-by and asked if they'd seen "A woman in a wheelchair, doesn't look much like me but does just a little bit". He glanced at his phone each time it buzzed with an incoming message.

DiffWizard: There are so many people everywhere. I wish they'd all just stand still for a second.

DiffWizard: Never been more grateful I go to a snotty private school.

Hunk could only detachedly agree with Pidge, at least in his first sentiment.

Sharpshooter18: I'm clocking up a bit of backlog here at the door. I don't suppose anyone's found her yet?

Sharpshooter18: My questioning skills have never seemed less capable.

Hunk agreed with Lance on that, too. Apparently no one had seen his mom.

BlackLion007: I've found the principal. He's offered to make an announcement on the speaker system if we'll give him the go ahead.

Red: What if she's been taken outside?

BlackLion007: Someone might still have seen her.

Red: I'll head outside and run a loop of the hall.

Red: Do you think you can take my spot at the door, BlackLion?

BlackLion007: Got it. I've told the principal and he's heading to the microphone now.

Hunk turned unconsciously towards the front of the room, towards the stage elevated before the spread of vacated seats. He swallowed thickly; anxiety still strummed his nerves with a rapid beat, but like a bottle capped just as it reached its peak, his friends and their immediate rush of support stoppered him before he could overflow.

As Hunk stared with baleful eyes towards his principal fiddling with the microphone, his phone buzzed and his attention snapped towards it. What he read deflated him like a balloon popped by a blessed pin.

PrincessOfAltea: I've found her.

PrincessOfAltea: Don't worry, Butterfingers. I've found her and she's alright.

PrincessOfAltea: She's with your grandmother. Fae has just told me to tell you that she apologises for worrying you but she thought you might prefer to talk to your teacher without having to watch after you mother.

PrincessOfAltea: She admits she'd very sorry.

Hunk closed his eyes as his principal's voice echoed in his ears. He barely heard the words, the request Shiro had posed. It didn't matter anymore. Hunk was grateful for the help, but it didn't matter.

She's alright. Thank God, she's alright. His phone still buzzed in his hand and, with fingers that trembled just slightly as he hadn't even noticed them doing, Hunk dropped his gaze to the black backdrop of Voltron. Their Voltron. The Voltron that only he and six of his friends had access to.

Sharpshooter18: Oh, thank fuck. I thought I might have a mob on my hands in a minute or two.

Red: Why?

Red: Did you have to keep them inside the hall specifically?

Sharpshooter18: Naturally. Lockdown 101.

BlackLion007: That's a relief. Thank you, Princess.

DiffWizard: You just saved my life. It's one thing to be in the middle of all this craziness but entirely another to have to swim through it.

DiffWizard: You alright, Butterfingers?

Hunk found himself nodding as he haphazardly tapped out a reply. There was even something soothing about reading his paladin name, a comforting affection to it. They'd all agreed to maintain their pseudonyms on Voltron; it just felt more right somehow.

Butterfingers: I'm alright. Thanks, everyone.

Butterfingers: Sorry about the explosion.

PrincessOfAltea: There's no need to apologise. It's entirely understandable.

Red: I'm sure you were worried. Very understandable.

Sharpshooter18: Understandable.

DiffWizard: We. Are. All. Parrots.

Hunk couldn't help but snort in amusement. It was more of the hysterical variety, but the relief that allowed it to spring forth was sincere. Turning in place and realising he didn't have a destination in mind, he tapped out a quick message to Allura.

Butterfingers: Thank you so much, Princess.

Butterfingers: I think you just saved my life.

PrincessOfAltea; I think I just got lucky :)

Butterfingers: Where are you now? I'll come to you.

Following Allura's directions to the flood of similar comments from his friends, Hunk started towards the back of the hall. How his gran had managed to make it all the way to the senior's parking lot was a mystery to him – almost as much as why she'd decided to go all the way out there – but he was too relieved to question it.

Red: I'm already on my way.

Sharpshooter18: Oi, you're not waiting for me?

Red: Do you need me to wait for you?

DiffWizard: Are you pouting, Sharpshooter?

BlackLion007: I'll just thank the principal before coming out too.

PrincessOfAltea: Yes, thank you for that anyway, BlackLion.

DiffWizard: Oh, I found you, Butterfingers!

"I found you, Hunk."

At the sound of Pidge's voice, Hunk glanced over his shoulder. Over and down, because Pidge was about half his height. He managed to smile at him, though he it was maybe a little sickly. "Hey, Pidge."

With a shift of his glasses on his nose, Pidge eyed him sceptically as they continued to the door of the hall, wading through bodies. "You look like shit."

"Thank you."

"You're alright," Pidge said, as though he was trying to convince Hunk rather than simply stating an observation. He raised a hand to Hunk's elbow and squeezed slightly. From Pidge, it was as good as a supportive embrace. "She's okay, Hunk."

"Yeah, I know." Hunk wiped a hand across his face. She's stable. She's safe. "I know. I just freaked out for a moment there."

"We know. But seriously, it's okay, Hunk."

From anyone else it would have sounded like little more than an empty platitude. But from the members of Voltron? From their Voltron, as it had been for the six months since Pidge had constructed it from the bones of what had been destroyed? They knew. Aside from his mom, from his gran, to Hunk the paladins of Voltron were the most important people in his world.

They crossed through the school, the grounds dotted with students and families and teachers talking in clusters or drifting away from the hall as the ceremony drew to a close. The early afternoon light was still as hot as it had been that morning but Hunk barely considered it anymore. He started at a rapid pace towards the parking lot, striding between the stout school buildings in what might be the last time he ever saw them. Pidge was forced to all but trot at his side.

At that moment, Hunk disregarded the sentimental fact. He couldn't think that anything truly mattered except ensuring his mom was alright. It wasn't that he didn't trust Allura's assurances, or his gran for that matter, but the weight of her disappearance still had his fingers shaking. He needed to see her.

Everyone but Shiro was already at the senior's car park by the time Hunk and Pidge drew alongside them. At first, for one narrow-minded and consuming moment, Hunk had eyes only for his mom where she sat in their midst. Still, silent, slowly blinking and blank but… alright. Of course she was alright. Hunk shouldn't doubt it, even if he had just experienced a near-death experience for his heart-wrenching burst of terror.

After that moment, however, he could breathe again. Hunk could glance towards his gran and the faintly apologetic expression she wore before concealing it beneath a pointedly raised eyebrow. To Allura at her side, standing as tall and straight and stunningly beautiful as ever; it was something that Hunk had always recognised in her but was only more apparent after she'd overcome the worst of her surgery's effects. She offered a small wave and a bright smile to he and Pidge both as they approached. Coran, standing at her shoulder as he was want to do, beamed his own smile behind his tufted orange moustache, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Lance stood alongside Keith, speaking with his usual wide gesticulations and with a very definite note of indignation in his voice, though the slight quirk to the corners of his mouth suggested it was much of a ruse. Keith watched him dubiously, arms predictably crossed across his chest and in his predictable red jacket despite the heat, but he turned to Hunk and Pidge as they arrived. In doing so, he apparently distracted Lance from whatever he was saying.

Lance was at Hunk's side in a moment, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "You alright, buddy?"

Hunk smiled at him and it came a little more easily this time. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that, everyone." He glanced towards his gran. "And sorry, Gran."

His gran pursed her lips slightly before waving aside his apology. "Not to worry. There's no trouble."

"But next time, we've decided to communicate just a little more," Allura said with a glance in his gran's direction.

There was nothing but warmth in her gentle reprimand, so Hunk considered that many might in turn consider such to be the reason his gran's hackles didn't rise as they would with just about anyone else. Except that Hunk knew his gran, and he knew what his gran thought of Allura. Was it perhaps hero worship in her gaze as she turned Allura's way and nodded just slightly, barely a little begrudgingly? Hunk had only seen an expression remotely resembling that his gran wore in Allura's presence when they attended church on Sundays.

Grandma Fae approved of Hunk's friends. She was scoldingly fond of Lance – for which Lance was incessantly provoking – fussed over Keith in a way that seemed to only confuse Keith and bore a very strong approval for Pidge's decisiveness ever since he'd told them all that he'd come out to his mom about his genderfluidity. Shiro she doted upon in a manner that might have been easily overlooked as simple approval by many, but Allura… Allura was the exception. To Hunk's gran, Allura could do no wrong.

"Yes, well," his gran said with a harrumph. "Perhaps."

"Or just send him a message from your phone," Coran perked up brightly, leaning around the barrier Allura presented between them. He raised a finger primly. "I've never been too hip with technology myself, but they certainly are useful, eh?"

Allura's shielding presence was much needed when Hunk's gran turned a frown towards Coran. The Death Stare. Hunk had been familiar with it for years, even if it hadn't been turned upon him in nearly a whole decade. Before the sight of it radiating from a little woman a whole head shorter than him, Coran shrivelled.

"I can't use that thing," Hunk's gran sniffed. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Would you like me to try and teach you again, Gran?" Pidge said. Out of all of his friends, Pidge and Lance were the only two to have taken to calling her such at Hunk's gran's behest. Hunk thought it endeared the both of them to his gran just a little bit more. "We can go over it again if you want."

His gran grumbled something under her breath but before anyone else could add to the suggestion – or could openly encourage it – Shiro appeared at Hunk's side. "Sorry about the wait," he said to the communal disregarding of everyone present. "Everyone's accounted for?"

"Here," Lance said unnecessarily.

"Oh, thank God, I wouldn't have known otherwise," Pidge said with a smirk, only to roll his eyes as Coran echoed with his own, "Here!"

"You managed to speak to the principal?" Allura asked, stepping to Shiro's side with a curious tilt of her head. "That was very kind of him."

"It was just an announcement," Keith said, shrugging as Allura glanced his way. "It wasn't anything all that difficult."

"Still, it was a nice thing to do."

"Nice how? Isn't it his job?"

"Red, your social unhinge-ment is showing again," Lance said, dropping his arm from Hunk's shoulder and stepping to Keith's side. The way he slung his arm instead around Keith's shoulders was distinctly different to how it had been with Hunk. Or maybe that was simply the kiss he planted on Keith's cheek; Hunk wasn't sure. "Tone it down a little, maybe?"

"I don't really think unhinge-ment is a word," Allura mused aloud. Then she seemed to shake herself from her thoughts and turned once more to Hunk. Her smile was reaffixed and its brilliance seemed to radiate in a tangible glow. "But enough of that. The incident has passed with little hiccup. So instead – a congratulations, Hunk!"

"Yes, congratulations," Shiro said, and he dropped a hand to Hunk's shoulder. His prosthetic hand, Hunk noted detachedly, and similarly detachedly applauded the fluidity of Shiro's gesture. He'd managed with barely a hitch at all. The heaviness of the hand was warm despite the lack of any real skin, but the feeling wasn't as strange as it once had been. "You should be truly proud of yourself."

"Of course he should be," Hunk's gran said. "My boy pulled off more than most children his age could manage under such strain." She tittered and seemed entirely oblivious to Hunk's renewed flush of embarrassment. "The complaining of some children these days about the littlest things."

"Gran," Hunk muttered and couldn't help but spare a glance towards his friends. Keith and Lance didn't appear fazed, but Pidge shifted uncomfortably. Pidge had always had issues in that regard – unwarranted issues, because he was fantastic, but Hunk knew him well enough to understand he had some very distinct insecurities. His dislike for school seemed to be one of them.

"It's alright," Pidge mumbled before visibly shrugging off his discomfort. He turned a smile up to Hunk that was only slightly feigned. "But I'm proud of you too, Hunk. You think I should take engineering next year?"

"Definitely," Hunk said immediately.

"Much and all as I'm sure he appreciates it, though, I'm still worried that you skipped a day of school, Pidge," Shiro, ever responsible, frowned slightly as Pidge glanced up at him. "What am I going to tell Matt when I see him next?"

"That you preserved my safety by picking me up from school rather than letting me make my way halfway across New York City myself?" Pidge replied.

"That'll do it," Lance laughed.

"I'm fairly sure Matt doesn't have much control over what Pidge does anyway," Keith said.

"Too right," Pidge agreed with a sharp nod.

"Should we drop you back to school?" Shiro asked. "You'll still have a few hours left, won't you?"

"Shiro," Lance said before Pidge could get a word in. "Shiro, please. Let me tell you this little thing about school."

"Must you?" Shiro said with a touch of a smile.

"See, Lance understands," Pidge said with a sigh. "Not that you have an excuse to commiserate anymore."

Lance grinned widely. "That I don't. Sorry, Pidge, you're flying solo now."

"Three graduates in the one year," Allura said with a sigh that was almost wistful. "Is it wrong of me to admit that I feel somewhat proud as well?"

"No," everyone replied communally. Even Hunk's gran added her dissent to the mix and Hunk couldn't help but smile.

Allura and Shiro. In many ways, just as Hunk and the rest of his friends had teased them so long ago, they truly were the parents of their small group of paladins. It didn't matter that Shiro was only a handful of years older than the rest of them and Allura barely a few more on top of that. It was simply how it was.

Shiro was undoubtedly the responsible one, the mature one, the one who always kept an eye out for everyone. In the months that Hunk had come to know him, he'd learned that much of Shiro. He was a protective kind of person and, for whatever reason had induced such feelings, admitted that he cared for them all most deeply. That he would protect them, would support them, should they ever ask, which he had done on numerous occasions. Hunk could stand testimony to that fact; he didn't know where he'd be without his Voltron friends but just as importantly he didn't know where he'd be without his Saturday nights at Shiro's apartment.

Or every second day when he dropped by to help care for Hunk's mom.

Or when he'd accompanied Hunk to the bank barely a month before to assist with the confusion of Hunk's dad's inheritance. Two years delay hadn't made Hunk any the wiser of how to deal with it.

Shiro was definitely more than just a supportive friend. Much more.

Allura was the same and yet slightly different. She had an analytical mind and analysis seeped forward with her liltingly observational words that at times hit almost a little too close to home. Hunk would never forget the first time he'd met her and the personal assessments she'd conducted on all of them. Allura's words still stuck with him months after their initial voicing.

When she'd progressed in her recovery, when she was no longer at risk of causing herself undue damage with particularly strenuous activity, Allura had blossomed. She was an incredibly strong woman, and she showed it in her commitment to her work, in her constant support of her friends and that she and her castle estate acted as their base of sorts for weekends when Hunk needed a reprieve from the city, when Pidge needed to escape his mom or Keith the confines of his foster home, or when Lance was afforded the freedom from helping out at his dad's shop. She was always an ear to listen to, a voice of reason, a gentle hand clasping fingers with a warm smile.

That she'd bounced back from her surgery with such speed and fullness was incredible. Hunk didn't need Coran to tell him that she was special to see as much for himself. Allura was. So was Shiro. So were all of Hunk's friends.

"I think this calls for a celebration," Pidge said, drawing his gaze expectantly around their group and entirely overlooking the pointed glance Shiro sent his way. "How about we go out to lunch?"

"Will it be a long lunch?" Keith asked.

Pidge frowned. "What? Why?"

"I'm only considering the extensiveness necessary to ensure you won't have any excuse for not returning to school."

Pidge's frown flipped into a grin. "I like where you're head's at, Keith. You've got it screwed on straight."

"Thank you?"

"Yes, that was a compliment."

"I'm not so sure it was."

"A restaurant?" Hunk's gran asked, a frown in her voice. "Now why would we need to go to a restaurant when I can cook all of you up something, hm?" Planted behind Hunk's mom's chair, she swept a pointed finger around their group. "All of you, you're too skinny. Especially you, Pidge."

"I'm not skinny, Gran. I'm fashionably slender."

"Those elbows have nothing fashionable about them," Lance said.

"What's wrong with Pidge's elbows?" Allura asked curiously.

"Nothing," Hunk and Shiro said in synchrony.

"Exactly," Pidge said primly. "And besides, Lance, you're a beanpole too."

"Ah, but I'm not. Keith, tell them. Under all these clothes, I'm –"

"Perhaps we should pause it at that?" Shiro interrupted overloudly. Then he turned to Hunk's gran. "Thank you for the suggestion, Fae, but it would probably be easier simply to eat somewhere close so that we could take our leave from here, don't you think?"

"Maggie and Hunk's house isn't so far away," Fae reasoned. "And you all love my cooking."

"We do," Allura said, though Hunk could hear in her tone that she similarly agreed with Shiro. That meant they'd win; when their opinions were combined as they often were, Shiro and Allura always won. They really were like the parents of their group. "But we wouldn't want to impose."

"And I'm starving," Lance added.

"Amen to that," Pidge said. "My stomach's eating itself. The closer the better."

"Too skinny," Hunk's gran grumbled. But she subsided after that and they were making to the cars a moment later.

Or running, as was the case with Hunk, Lance, Keith and Pidge. It took barely a glance in the direction of the parked cars, a glance between them all, then – GO!

It was something of a game mixed with genuine terror for who made it to the cars first. A terrified game one that they four had become sincerely dedicated to. Which car would they be assigned to. In that moment, despite the relieved aftermath that was discovering that his gran was alright, Hunk was on a mission.

There were two options. One: Shiro's car. Shiro was always in Shiro's car, but he was rarely the one to drive it. He didn't like to because, even months after being outfitted with his prosthetic – and growing remarkably adept at handling it, Hunk would readily admit – he wasn't confident enough to conduct fine motor skills. Lance was the one who drove his car. Or Keith, as Shiro had been teaching him at every opportunity he could.

Then there was option two. Allura's car. Or the car that Allura was always the passenger in but that Coran drove. No one wanted to drive with Coran, and even Allura would admit her scepticism after seeing how proper people handled a motor vehicle. Coran… in short, Coran was a terrifying driver.

No one wanted to drive in a car Coran drove.

Hunk's mom and gran had customary seats in Shiro's car, because even Coran obliged these days and would admit that it was probably safer for the both of them. He took it all in remarkably good grace and changed his driving none for everyone's pervasive wariness. That left only two seats in Shiro's car.

The race was on.

Unfortunately for Hunk and Pidge, both Lance and Keith were usually faster. They were that day too, and no amount of pleading demands from Pidge or desperate manipulation on Hunk's part that it was his graduation day and he should get special treatment afforded them a free seat. It was all fun and games, really, and even more so when Hunk, Pidge and Allura climbed with slightly wobbly legs from the back seat after surviving the short drive to the restaurant. Hunk could almost even joke about it. Almost.

Hunk loved it when the paladins all gathered. Or the paladins and his mom and gran, for more often than not they joined them. Hunk could never be more than eternally grateful to his friends for their allowance in that regard; they could have very easily expressed disgruntlement or unease for the situation, but none batted an eyelid. Over a table-full of lunch – and the careful direction of Hunk's gran who, even in a restaurant, held the reigns of the menu – there was vibrancy and laughter, chatter and moments of comfortable silence. They were always broken barely seconds later by a protest from Pidge about unsanitary behaviour as Lance and Keith ate nonchalantly from one another's plates, or when Coran threw a particularly bad pun into the midst that had them all groaning, or when Shiro urged them into a discussion about what Hunk, Keith and Lance were going to do for the rest of their week with all of their newfound freedom.

"Soccer," Lance predictably replied. "When I'm not at the shop."

"I haven't thought about it," Keith said with a shrug. "Probably work too if I can shift the roster around a little bit."

"You should come with me," Lance suggested.

"I'm not very good at soccer."

"No, correction: you're not very good at playing in a team. Soccer you're fine at."

"I'll come," Hunk said. "If that's okay?"

Lance grinned at him approvingly. "'Course you can."

"Although I'm not all that good at soccer…"

"Doesn't matter. The more the merrier."

"Can I bring my mom?"

"You'll do no such thing," Hunk's gran said. "I'm taking your mom tomorrow."

"But," Hunk began.

"No but's. We're going to the art gallery with that clutch of hens from my art group." Hunk's gran thinned her lips for a moment, a predictable response when talking about 'those hens' she secretly adored. She always attended the art groups and their excursions, however. "There's a new display up."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Allura said, lowering her glass after a delicate sip. Allura always ate and drank like a princess. Her Voltron name truly suited her. "I haven't been to an art gallery in some time."

"You're more than welcome to come along," Hunk's gran said in what might have sounded begrudging to anyone else's ears but to Hunk's definitely, definitely wasn't."

"Alas, I'm working," Allura sighed. "Perhaps another time."

"I'd love, though," Shiro said. "I've not much of an eye for art, but I'm always up for trying something new."

"No, you're coming with us!" Lance exclaimed, all but throwing himself forwards and halfway across the table to reach a hand for Shiro. "We'll definitely win if you're on our team tomorrow."

"What's that saying about Keith and me?" Hunk asked.

"Well, apparently I'm not a very good team player," Keith said with a hint of a smile.

"I hate you all," Pidge grumbled. "Where is the justice in the world that I, the person who least enjoys school, is the only one who has to go still?"

"You are not," Lance immediately said, glancing towards Pidge. "I challenge your claim."

"Challenge accepted."

It was just like that. Just that easy, as it always had been. Hunk had never had a group of friends quite like the paladins. They were all so different and came from such different backgrounds, and yet it was so comfortable to simply be in their company. Hunk had never enjoyed himself as much as he did when around them, not even when he worked alongside his friends at the Balmeran Bakehouse, the shy Shay and awkwardly-affectionate Rax. He loved them all dearly. Hunk wondered if it was simply his projection that he thought his mom seemed slightly brighter, slightly more in touch, when she was around them too.

They left hours later before the tentative nudging of the waiters requesting their departure for the night's influx. A reluctant Pidge and Lance bowed beneath the necessity of traveling in Coran's terrifying automobile-of-death, and after Hunk lifted his mom into Shiro's car once more and adjusting her accordingly, they said their farewells.

Hunk shared an easy drive home alongside his remaining friends in what was true satiation. It was quieter without the combined noise of Lance and Pidge, Lance in particular the being loudest of their party and proud of the fact, but it was no less comfortable. Simply different.

"Thanks for the lift home," Hunk said as he finished lifting his mom from the back seat of the car and seating her in her chair once more. He leaned into Shiro's passenger-side window, sparing a glance and a smiling nod for Keith in the driver's seat. "I'll maybe see you both tomorrow, then?"

Keith only nodded while Shiro's dropped smile and word of agreement. "Definitely. Art gallery or soccer game, I'll be around."

Hunk grinned. "Great. And, um…" He paused, shifted slightly in place and scrubbed a fist awkwardly at his nose. "Thanks for coming today. Both of you. And everyone. I should have said it before."

Shiro's smile widened and Keith gifted Hunk with one of his own. It wasn't as uncommon to see Keith smile as it once had been but Hunk still felt a little like he'd won something when he could induce as much from him.

"You're very welcome, Hunk," Shiro said. "I thoroughly enjoyed myself."

Hunk chuckled. "I don't think anyone actually enjoys graduation ceremonies. And we've all been to three in the last two weeks."

"And yet I enjoyed each of them."

"You have too much time on your hands, then," Hunk said with a shake of his head.

"Most likely," Shiro agreed. Then he was raising his left hand in farewell and calling a similar goodbye to Hunk's gran and mom over Hunk's shoulder. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Fae, Maggie."

"Goodbye, Shiro. Make sure Keith doesn't drive too madly."

"Keith's a great driver, Gran," Hunk said, sparing her a glance before turning back to Keith with an attempt at reassurance. "You are, Keith. Seriously"

Keith offered him another small smile. "It's alright, Hunk. I can accept that I'm mediocre at best."

"Which is better than Coran."

"True."

Hunk was still laughing as he waved at the black car drawing into the distance. Then he turned to take his mom's wheelchair from his gran and trundled her up the footpath towards the front door. Wonder of wonders, not a hint of rubbish adorned his poor excuse for a front lawn as had once so often assaulted it in the early days of his dad's death. It was nice to think that the animosity still attached to his house for his dad's name might be slowly weaning.

"I'll be taking myself back home for a few hours," Hunk's gran was saying behind him as she clambered up the two steps in Hunk's wake. She was just sprightly as ever. "Gert was popping over to pick up her old dinner set at around six. She's a little addled with the time, though. Runs on a bit of a skewed clock, she does."

"Why did you have Gertrude's dinner set?" Hunk asked as he took his mom inside, mind flicking briefly to the old lady who lived three streets from his gran and who she'd been friends with for years.

"Because she lent it to me," Hunk's gran said by way of explanation. Maybe it was, to his gran. Hunk didn't question it further.

He was left alone with his mom moments later. His gran always left in a bustle, was such a strong and large presence in the house that it always seemed just a little empty and a little too large without her. Hunk set about adding his own noise to the silent space between walls, tidying up the minimal mess that remained from that morning when they'd left in a flurry to make the graduation ceremony on time and talking idly over his shoulder to his mom as he did so. She was stationed in the living room where he'd left her but Hunk didn't feel the need to bring her along with him as he drifted between lounge to kitchen, tidying as he went. He liked to think that simply the sound of his carrying voice was enough for her silent and unresponsive listening. Hunk knew he was good at adding a bright, happy chatter to the quiet ambiance. Allura always told him that he was a very positive person.

"They're really very sweet," he was saying as he wiped the last of the soapsuds from the final plate with a hand towel. The clock on the wall read ten to six – he hadn't even noticed nearly an hour passing for his distraction. "Gran really likes them both too. What do you think, Mom? Do you think we'll have another Lance and Keith situation? Have Shiro and Allura start dating?" Hunk paused for a moment, considering. "That would be kind of weird, I guess. But then, no less weird than Lance and Keith, I guess. Sometimes I can even forget they're dating."

It wasn't entirely the truth, because Hunk couldn't forget. It wasn't usually anything overt – or at least nothing more overt than a handhold or a kiss on the cheek – but there was something about the way that Keith and Lance were simply with one another. Standing beside each other. In constant awareness of one another in a way that was apparent even to Hunk as a simple bystander. That much he could read. It had been obvious to him even before they'd started dating.

Shiro and Allura… were they the same? Possibly. It would be possible, and Hunk thought they would make perhaps the kindest couple in the world. But maybe that was just it; they seemed to suit on another so well because they were so alike in that regard.

"I guess it would be kind of cute?" Hunk pondered aloud. "Except that it would leave me and Pidge as the two bachelors. Or the bachelor and bachelorette, depending on the situation." He shook his head. "Pidge probably wouldn't take to being called either, actually. It's way too mainstream and presuming."

Drifting back into the living room as he wiped his hands on his slacks, Hunk took himself to the couch and slumped heavily into the cushions. He'd changed from his graduation robes before they'd entered the restaurant, but the weight of them still settled upon his shoulders.

Graduated. Him. Hunk had actually done it. Mr Howard's words rung in the back of his mind once more: what would he do with himself? Would he go to college? It wasn't that he couldn't afford it, not after his dad's will had finally been sorted out. He didn't even truly need to work at the Bakehouse anymore, though he doubted he'd stop any time shortly. The world was, quite literally, Hunk's oyster. He had to care for his mom, it was true, but such wasn't burden. Not really.

"What can I do?" Hunk murmured, head tipped back on the couch and eyes trained on the ceiling. "I could go to college, couldn't I, Mom? Could maybe get a scholarship? Mr Howard would be happy. Larry would be happy too, I know, and gran, I think. And it would be cool, I guess, but…" Hunk loved building things. He loved creating. He thought in many ways that such a love was part of the reason he liked baking as much as he did. In essence, they were both processes of creation. Going to college would allow him to further than endeavour, but…

When he thought about it, actually thought about it, did Hunk want to go to college? Maybe. Maybe he did. He'd never considered it a possibility before, with high school graduation being his end point. Was that the best – the only – path he could take? Hunk didn't know. He'd probably have to think a bit more about that, too.

"What do you think, Mom?" he sighed, as much to himself as his mom even if he truly believed she could still hear him. "If you could tell me, I wonder what you'd suggest I do." He tipped his head forwards and drew his gaze towards where his mom sat across the room from him, as silent as always.

He stared.

Then he sat up slowly in his seat. "Mom?"

No response. There was never any response, and yet…

"Mom? Are you…? Mom, are you alright?"

Hunk was on his feet in an instant, across the room a second later. His breathing hitched then stopped entirely as he dropped to his knees at his mom's side. As he took in her head where it slumped limply on her chest. As he met her staring, glassy gaze that didn't return his with any kind of vitality.

He stared and stared and – his mom was…

Hunk's mom, she was…

For a long moment, Hunk couldn't move. He couldn't breath himself, not when his mom wasn't breathing. Not when she was… when she was…

His fingers fumbled to his pocket for his phone but he dropped it as soon as he pulled it from his pocket. Hunk was terrified. Panicking. A different kind of panic to that he'd experienced earlier that day at the thought of losing sight of his mom. The room seemed to darken, and Hunk wasn't sure if it was because he struggled to breath or because the light was fading from the world.

He found he didn't much care either way. Allura had said he was always positive, that he always looked on the bright side of life. But sometimes… sometimes there just didn't seem to be a bright side at all.

Butterfingers has entered the chatroom.

Butterfingers: Help

Butterfingers: Please help me.

Butterfingers: I've lost her

Butterfingers: My mom's gone

Butterfingers: I've lost her and I can't

DiffWizard: What? Again?

Sharpshooter18: Hold on a sec, Butters, what's going on?

Red: Oh

Red: Fuck

Red: Where are you?

DiffWizard: What? What do you mean?

Sharpshooter18: Oh shit.

Sharpshooter18: Oh shit, Butters. Where are you right now?

Sharpshooter18: Where did you go?

PrincessOfAltea has entered the chatroom.

PrincessOfAltea: Butterfingers, talk to us. Where are you?

BlackLion007 has entered the chatroom.

BlackLion007: Butterfingers?

BlackLion007: Butterfingers, please speak to us.

BlackLion007: Red and I are still at my apartment. We can leave right now.

Sharpshooter18: I'm already out the door to the bus stop. Butters, where are you, man?

Red: We'll pick you up. DiffWizard?

DiffWizard: Please

DiffWizard: Shit shit shit shit

PrincessOfAltea: Wimbleton-Smythe and I are in the car now too. We're heading back to the city.

PrincessOfAltea: Please, Butterfingers. Where are you?

Butterfingers: I can't

Butterfingers: I'm at the hospital

Butterfingers: Please

Butterfingers: I need you guys

BlackLion007: We're coming

For Hunk, everything changed when he lost his mom.