Falling. He was falling. His escape ship spun relentlessly, he was halfway dead, no energy to attempt to control the ship. His miraculous escape was still a blur, but he focused on disappearing from the eyes of the Galra. With that thought came an overwhelming sense of guilt, he'd left the others behind, his crew, his friends. Were the Holts being given help too? Maybe he should turn back? His vision doubled and his eyes rolled into his head as speed picked up, the windows were a blaze of orange as he tore through Earth's atmosphere. He'd left as a trio and returned the only possible survivor, if he could make the landing. And survive trying to find some help.

The noise screamed through him as alarms went off and the fuel started burning out. The ship was intensely hot and Shiro remembered the heat was similar to the pain of Galra torture. He cried out, voice cracking as the fire cleared and the ship smashed into a rocky wall. Minutes after impact everything cut out, the roaring became a sinister hiss and Shiro slumped on the chair, unconsious. He was faintly aware of bright lights, synchronised running, metal being cut and shouting, he felt air rush into the stuffy ship- air! If he wasn't trapped within his mind he would have cried. He felt hands under his arms and by his ankles as he was lifted out of the ship and onto a stretcher and as soon as he was placed in a bright, sterilised room did he shoot up

"You have to listen to me! Aliens... Aliens are out there!" the people surrounding him had their faces covered and he tried to jump off the bed, his mind immediately thinking of the enemy. Multiple hands grabbed him and strappd him down. Shiro tried to push against them

"Stop! We need to go!" He yelled out. The people around him began to prod and poke, speaking softly while the night air became cold, he shivered as he tried again and again to make them listen.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He shouted as a man scanned him for the upteenth time

"Calm down Shiro, we just need to keep you quarantined until we run some test on you-"

"You have to listen to me! They destroy worlds! Aliens are coming!"

"Do you know how long you've been gone?" Shiro faltered, he panicked. How long had it been?

"I don't know! Months? Years? Look! There's no time! Aliens are coming here for a weapon. They're probably on their way! They'll destroy us! We have to find Voltron" No one seemed to be listening, still too busy working on him. Talking was taking more energy than he wanted to admit, panting every word out, trying to get them to listen, to understand.

"Sir, take a look at this. It appears his arm has been replaced with a cyborg prosthetic" He clenched his fists, he'd tried to hard to deny what had happened to him he refused to acknowledge what they pointed out

"Put him under until we know what that thing can do" Shiro saw the seringe being filled. He bucked against his restraints

"No! No no no no no no no! Don't put me under! No! No there's no time! No no no-ugh" the fluid was injected into him and instantly his battle was over. He tried to ignore the tug towards darkness, that's where he'd always been, but it seemed he would never be able to escape it.

Shiro was startled by distant booming, his mind was slow as became vaguely aware of the straps falling away and being dragged out, the sedative refused to let go so he remained slumped and lifeless. He must look terrible. A range of voices filtered through, they ranged in pitch and were soft, not cold and metallic by the filters of the quarantine suits. Wait... wait was that Matt there? No it can't he wasn't in quarantine. Maybe he crashed? That could have been the explosion? Shiro held onto that hope as he again gave in to the drug, allowing the sharp wind of a moving vehicle rejuvenate him, it felt so good to feel the sting as it whipped past.

The group that saved him had barely escaped the search squad, they quickly parked under a cliff

"I can't believe we just did that. I can't believe we just did that. We're so totally going to be excluded" Hunk fretted

"Chillax, they probably didn't even know it was us, they might just blame Keith"

"Hey!" Keith growled

"Guys a little help?" Pidge asked, he was still clutching Shiro's lifeless body for dear life. They carefully laid hm on the ground

"I can't believe we saved Shiro" Lance whistled

"Do you reckon he's okay?" Pidge wondered

"I doubt it" Hunk shook his head "he was pretty cagey in the video feed"

"So would you if you escaped imprisonment and then used a test subject" Keith shook his head

"So now what?" Lance asked

"We go to my place, he can rest there" Keith suggested

"We really need to get back to the garrison before people realise we're missing" Hunk pointed out

"Nah" Lance helped Keith put Shiro back on his vehicle, he still eyed him as his competitor and Keith rolled his eyes. Hunk and Pidge climbed on behind and Keith began driving.

He lay on the bed of the small shack. The group sat silently in makeshift chairs, someone would lift their head as if to speak but was over come by the awkward tension that enveloped them. The only voice to be heard was Shiro's as he muttered and flinched. Hunk twiddled his thumbs and gave Lance a sideways glare, Lance was oblivious, too busy assessing Keith with narrow eyes. Pidge silently tapped his foot, listening intently to Shiro as if he would reveal the secrets of the universe and Keith seemed the most disgruntled having so many people in his place.

Suddenly Shiro bolted up right and the group jumped back. Shiro stood up and studied every face, he almost broke into a smile but his face dropped when he realised the boy he thought was Matt, was not, just a cruel resemblance. He rocked on his feet and closed his eyes, took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. He put his head in his hands, one clammy and the other cold. He flinched as he looked at his Galra prosthetic, feeling sick he staggered into what hoped was the bathroom and heaved on an empty stomach. Panting he braced himself against the wall and looked in the mirror and his heart plummeted. He looked twice his age, his youthful flop had turned white, his undercut had greyed and his eyes were deep set. No longer did he look like he was in the prime of his youth, but a haggard middle aged man with an alien limb. However he was grateful someone had removed his tattered battle-slave clothes, the all black suit was the only feature that proved he was free from his year of torment.

Shuddering and distressed, he had completely forgot about the group who had saved him, with old memories returning he remembered them as fresh new cadets as he became a senior at the garrison. What on earth had led them to him? Without thinking he barged out of the small shack and walked out into the open air. It felt good to feel gravel under his feet, the natural air in his lungs and the abundance of smells after a year of stagnant metallic air. He held his Galra prosthetic in front of him, clenching and clenching, tentatively trying to remember how he had got it. A hand patted him on the shoulder

"Shiro... um... are you good?". Shiro turned his head to find the dark haired blue eye boy, Keith. He had helped tutor him once. The rest of the cadets were still in the house

"I will be"

"It's good to have you back" Keith smiled reassuringly

"It's good to be back" Shiro felt the hint of a chuckle as he let his had fall to his side. It was good to be back.