Wake up at the crack of dawn. Brush teeth. Stare into mirror for five minutes, whispering an affirmation— a hope for the day to start and end with nothing too out of the ordinary occurring. Sigh loudly. Go into the bedroom to wake up his sleeping fi...
There is no sleeping fiance anymore. Adam stares at his empty bed, a slight bitterness washing over him before he composes himself. The left side of the sheets rested in a crumpled mess, but the right was almost neat, as if untouched for the past two years.
Adam tiredly rubbed his hand over his face, pausing at at stubble he refused to tend to for the past week.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
As a man of routine, habits were hard to break. For nearly two years, he would finish his morning routine and walk into his bedroom to wake up his now-gone ex-fiance.
He could remember Takashi's deep, sleepy eyes that would squint at the gradual brightening of the room. A groan, if Adam ever decided to swing open the curtains, indicates his need for a few more minutes of darkness. It would take him almost half and hour to get Takashi out of bed, mainly because the latter would try to bribe Adam back in for a few minutes of peace. Adam never gave in, and sometimes, he wishes he had humored the attempts.
"Come on, Adam. We're only young for so long…" Takashi mumbled, trying to keep his hold on Adam's waist while the latter easily escapes.
"You're hopeless." Adam flicks Takashi's nose and leans down to press his forehead on his lover's for a moment before pulling back.
He shakes his head and sighs once again, unphased by the thought. Takashi was gone. Last he had heard from Sam, Takashi was safe. That was all he was given. He mourned for his lover, and moved on.
No distractions. Distractions offer little to no productivity, and he had long since decided that there was no use putting his whole life on hold anymore.
Adam dresses himself and drinks a glass of water before exiting his home and making his venture to the Garrison.
His thoughts venture as well. Sam Holt had come back in a strange spacecraft and was being held by the Garrison. Adam doesn't understand what the current situation is, but he feels a strange sensation in his stomach, as if he'll throw up any moment. He had felt the same before Takashi told him about the illness that had ravaged his body since before he could even walk, the same way he felt as he followed his routine after his final argument with his lover. Now he feels this looming threat in the pit of his being and all he can think is he needs to get to class.
Sam Holt.
He has to have answers.
Adam arrives at the Garrison and walks down the hall and muses about the lecture he is to give in the upcoming hour. He finds himself increasingly nervous as he nears the hall. These cadets all look to him to provide accurate information on the devices they hope to control in just a year. He is responsible for providing enough information to help them understand how to pilot in the simulations and how to respond to any and every situation they may encounter.
Normally, he is unbothered by these details, but lately, he sees the faces of the cadets who went missing some years ago. He speaks clearly to the students in class, half who seem uninterested and half who absorb every word of his, but he holds back the waver in his voice when he sees flashes of sun-kissed skin, lazy smiles… anxious fidgeting... or ginger hair and bright, curious eyes. Once he finishes up his lecture, the class disperses. The pit in his stomach makes him feel like he's going to collapse.
"Good morning, Professor Wahid." A student snaps him from his thoughts. Adam looks and nods.
"Good morning, James. How can I help you?" he asks, offering his signature reassuring smile.
Excitedly, James begins. "First, thanks for the class today. It was a really interesting lecture, and I'd really love to meet you during office hours to talk more, since I know you're heading to another class right now," James rambles. Adam enjoyed it. His curiosity and thirst for knowledge reminded him of himself when he was a cadet.
"Yes, I'm heading over right now. How about we walk, and you can ask what you want." Adam gathers his portfolio. James grins at him almost sheepishly, having been found out.
"I was just wondering about the simulation rooms. I haven't been able to practice as much as I would have liked to because I was studying for my exams."
"How did you do on those?" Adam asks him.
James looks relieved at the thought of his recent exams. "Great! Your study methods are amazing. Even Rizavi was able to sit still enough to retain some of the concepts."
"That's good to hear. I'm guessing you want extra time in the simulations?" Adam questions, turning at the corner.
James rubs his neck and gathers his thoughts, "Yes, I really want to make sure when I get in the real thing, I can do the best for my team. Also, I can't be embarrassing you after your recommendation."
"No, you can't…"
Adam smiles at him, but an almost overwhelming sense of dread washes over him. It was times like this where he remembered that he was training these young adults into one day piloting machines that could be partly responsible for their untimely deaths. Adam is no stranger to losing his students to during times of conflict.
He almost shuts his eyes at the flash of pale skin and lifeless eyes. He remembers being called into Medical and encountering a grim Iverson who breaks the news to him.
"He didn't make it."
Adam never fully recovers from that afternoon… or, maybe it was an evening? He can't remember anymore.
It's not the first time the words are spoken to him, and it's definitely not the last. The amount of times he's had to console the families of a dreadfully young cadet makes him sick. He questions the validity of a program that can put children into such a position.
"Professor…?" James brings Adam back to the present.
Adam blinks and rolls his shoulders.
"I'll have to check the schedule and see if anyone dropped their time. I'll make sure to email you by this afternoon." Adam promises him and James nods.
"Thank you so much, Professor. Have a good rest of your day, I'll see you!" James salutes him in an almost comical fashion. Or, maybe, just Adam thinks it's comical. James is a stickler for rules, and is almost overbearingly respectful to his instructors. The young man is at the top of his class, and with more practice he has the potential of becoming one of the top pilots of his graduating class and one of the best pilots the Garrison has ever seen. Adam would almost admire his tenaciousness if it wasn't for the fact that it reminds him so much of Takashi.
Adam pauses for a moment. In the beginning, the patches of Takashi he found in others caught him off guard.
His heart wavers.
"Adam, look!" Takashi excitedly interrupts Adam's grading. He sighs and looks up from his desk.
He takes a moment to take in his lover's appearance. Takashi, despite having muscular dystrophy, is large man. His Garrison issued uniform does little to lessen the emphasis of his broad chest and thick arms.
'Cute…' Adam muses in his head. He rests his cheek in his hand and looks into those dark chocolate eyes expectantly.
"What is it?" He asks.
Takashi is grinning at him, swaying back and forth for a moment before pulling out a file and handing it to Adam, "I found this kid at the school today. He's gifted, I really think he's got potential. Just look at his simulation notes and scores!"
Adam's heart plummets. Takashi isn't letting go of this piloting business for anyone. Not even himself...
He shakes his head.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
The class drags on longer than he prefers it to.
Nothing out of the ordinary happens, and, like always, he makes his way back home and to the pile of reports he's been working on for the past week. Normally he would have been done with the reports, but this gnawing feeling had been keeping him from making too much progress.
When he realizes he will be unable to finish the reports for another evening, he leaves them on the coffee table and gets ready for bed.
The same routine, as usual.
He walks into the living room and looks around. The feeling in his stomach expands.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
He can worry about this feeling later.
The next day, he is brought into a briefing session. Admiral Sanda, Commander Iverson and several of the higher staff are present. Sam Holt stands beside his wife, Colleen. Once everyone is gathered, Sam speaks.
Galra. Voltron. Zarkon. Battle. Olkari. Quintessence. Paladins.
Adam's head spins as the meeting proceeds. He says nothing and just listens to the others in the room argue. Sam Holt is planning on integrating alien technology into their own technology to create spacecrafts and battle crafts that will supposedly help in this intergalactic war.
As the meeting room clears out, Adam sits, arms crossed and lips pursed tightly. Sam Holt approaches him cautiously, aware of the man's notorious tendencies of snapping at anyone indiscriminately when provoked. Adam had never interacted with the man, aside from one dinner he attended with Takashi following the announcement of the Kerberos mission.
To the best of his knowledge, the only viable connection Adam has with the older man is Matt Holt — Sam's son, and Adam's long time friend.
Adam tenses when he feels a hand on his shoulder.
"Adam, there's so much I want to tell you. I can't right now, but I need your help. Please," Sam whispers to him.
Adam's jaw clenches. His thoughts are racing.
There is a chance that he can keep people from dying. There is a chance he can keep this war from raging on. He can help his students, the same ones that he is responsible for sending into battles.
"What can I do to help?" He finally looks up, a calm determination set into his expression.
—
What can I do to help?
The words echo through his mind whenever he and his top four students meet up and he briefs them on how their planes work. It is his job to create simulation levels that accurately represent the Galra attacks. With the help of Sam Holt, he is conditioning these four and numerous others for the path of war. These four are the youngest to start the MFE training, having just graduated.
Adam doesn't teach classes anymore. He doesn't go home anymore.
As days turn into weeks, Adam finds himself wavering. He is doubting the mission— doubting all of Sam's claims. Galra? Aliens? Intergalactic space war? He snorts.
None of it feels real, and Adam constantly hopes the resurfaced feeling in his stomach will eventually swallow him whole.
When he watches as Hunk spoke on screen, reminiscing about home and his family, Adam feels a stab in his chest. When Lance tearfully encourages his family, Adam has to sit down. When Katie sadly apologizes to their mother, Adam feels tears threatening his eyes. They are okay. But what did "okay" even mean to these children who have spent the past few years under the pressures of shouldering the safety of countless universes?
He speaks to Sam, who tells him Takashi and Keith are with Voltron.
Adam doesn't know if he should laugh. He doesn't remember the last time a claim held the power to force him into doubling over.
He laughs.
Sam looks over him sympathetically.
It starts. Adam tries to gain clearance for upgrading their weapons. Only the MFE planes have power that rivals the Glara ships, or so Sam claims. In between planning and engineering the MFEs, Adam has to make sure the standard planes are running efficiently as well.
The day Admiral Sanda makes the order for the first wave of fighter pilots to attack the Galra, the pit in his stomach subsides. He is a part of the first wave. He's taken up the job of strategist. Admiral Sanda wants him to report back his findings so they can come up with a better plan to take on the Galra.
Curtis, a former classmate of Adam's who reconnected with him during this time of war, calls Adam quickly. He's panicked.
"A-Adam, stay safe, okay? Stay safe." He pleads, obviously shaken up, worried, but he has to be back in charge of communications in a few minutes.
Adam's heart clenches. His friend's heart is too big. It opens up and consumes everyone and everything, regardless of how it will hurt him in the end. He cares about everyone and everything. Adam smiles a little.
Curtis is sitting on the floor of the gym, deflated.
Adam raises his eyebrow and walks over to him, handing him a water bottle and plops down next to him, "What's go you so upset?"
"I'm not upset, but thank you for asking." Curtis states, his expression contradicting his words. Adam gives him a look, and Curtis breaks under that scolding gaze, "Fine, I'll talk."
"There's a cadet I ran into. She was so scared and asked me to look into her family. I know I'm not supposed to, but… she's only eighteen. I did, and I couldn't find any news on them. So, of course, I looked into the general status of the area. The whole city was demolished. I just… I don't know what to tell her." Curtis tears up.
Adam is silent for a moment. He opens his mouth then shuts it.
"I guess I brought that on myself, but thanks for listening." Curtis inhales deeply and smiles at Adam. In more ways than one, Curtis begins looking like Takashi to Adam. He thinks it's because of his tendency to try and help anyone who asks. They both never pause to help themselves, though...
Adam shakes his head, "I'll go with you."
James looks at his former teacher as the latter suits up.
"Professor-"
"Not your professor anymore, James," Adam chides in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he isn't being sent out to his death at the very moment.
"Will you be okay?" Nadia apprehensively asks. The cheerful and confident girl looks terrified at the thought of Adam leaving. Ina and Ryan silently watch him, but he can tell they are worried.
"It doesn't matter if I'll be okay. What matters is that regardless of what happens to me, you four will continue on with your mission and help us get rid of this threat." Adam hates putting this type of pressure on his former students, but he can't allow his personal feelings to get in the way of his orders.
"This is Commander Iverson, initiate base defense protocol, Beta Five."
Adam braces himself. He's in his plane. As the hood descends, he feigns steel calm and gestures to his team firmly one last time, "You heard the man, we're up."
Awful.
Chaotic.
Hopeless…
The first one to go down doesn't even get a chance to cry out for help. They are completely annihilated in a matter of seconds. Their communication icon goes black. Adam doesn't have time to comprehend the loss before he swerves out of a beam's way and two more go black. This time he can clearly hear the screams before impact. Communication officers are hastily trying to contact the fighters.
"Team, stay focused!" Adam commands when he begins hearing shaky breaths. He can't do much except hold out. Three more go black. He grits his teeth. That feeling in his stomach has expanded to his chest. Another one goes black. Another scream echoes in his head. He can't see for a second. The plane that crosses his path is shot down. Chunks of metal disperse and black smoke indicates a fire about to engulf what is left.
How many is that now?
The tremors from being hit knock Adam from his thoughts. He can't breathe. Adam feels a brief period of peace. He isn't going to have to live with those flashes anymore. He can bid farewell those robotic habits that have been so ingrained like torture into his mind. He won't need to worry about anyone anymore.
And as his eyelids begin to feel heavy, he sees a flash of dark hair and a huge grin. Adam's eyes snap open, and he gasps. The sound is unlike any he has heard himself make before- a pained wheeze. He believes he has swallowed fire.
At that moment, there is pain. He doesn't know where it starts or where it ends, but there is pain, and he is almost torn apart by it.
He shakily breathes.
He's blinded by an explosion and all air is knocked from his lungs.
He shakily breathes.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exha…
Dark.