Title: Tears in the Dark
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Characters/Pairings: Pidge, Shiro
Rating: PG
Warnings: A sort of sequel to Not Your Fault. Don't need to read that story, but just know that some times Shiro and Pidge play chess on Pidge's laptop when neither of them can sleep. There may be some ooc-ness. You have my sincerest apologies.
Disclaimer: Voltron: Legendary Defender belongs to Dreamworks, World Events Productions, and Studio Mir. I own the stories I write.
Summary: After falling asleep while playing chess with Shiro, Pidge wakes up in the middle of the night.
Word Count: 587
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Pidge wakes up to the sound of harsh breaths, big gulps of air that rasp wetly past whimpering lips. In the dim light that her laptop offers, she can make out the rapid rise and fall of Shiro's shoulders-can barely see how his frame shakes. She's awake now, shocked at seeing the hulking mass of their team leader and corner stone tremble and audibly crumble.
"Shiro?" A small, lithe hand reaches out to close the distance between them, to perhaps still his shakes, but she freezes as a sob cuts through the harsh breaths and whimpers. His body curls in on itself to form a small ball, defending himself from whatever looms in the world behind his eyelids. Nothing is between them now as she shoots across the distance to his side, her laptop clattering closed and sending the whole room into an inky black. Her hands press gently into his shoulder to try and rock him awake as his cries get louder.
"Shiro," she whisper-yells. "Wake up."
His sobs send a tremor through the entirety of his body and quake up her arms. His muscles relax and contract in shudder-stops and she pushes against him harder in some crazed attempt to quell them.
"Shiro, you're asleep." Her voice rises in volume and pitch, cracking on the long E in "sleep." "You need to wake up!"
His only response is the bright fuchsia glow from his cybernetic hand. She throws her whole weight against him this time, trying to jostle him to waking while trying to pin his right arm down.
There's a gasp and his body tenses. She clings to his arm, not caring that the heated metal of his hand is close enough for immense heat to sear into her vulnerable side. She just stares into his now open eyes, pupils blown wide and unseeing.
"TAKASHI WAKE UP!"
"Matt?" He's looking at her, the sheer panic on his face quickly shifting to confusion then realization. Escalating from that is a cocktail of relief, fear, shame, and anger before his face finally settles on abject horror. His eyes focus on her side, the one pressed against his arm and radiating pain. The light vanishing from his hand leaves haunting afterimages in the darkness of her room.
"Fuck," Shiro rasps out into the ether, a shuddering inhale swallowing the end of the curse.
She can't see him at all right now, but she can tell that the tears have not stopped, can feel his breath hitch and the wet sound it makes as he exhales.
"I'm sorry," the words garbled around the sob escaping his lips. "Oh God. Katie, I'm sorry."
Pidge wants to say that everything will be okay, that everything is okay. The words sit there at the back of her throat, heavy and hollow at the same time. Instead she readjusts her hold on Shiro, looping her arms around his neck and drawing him in. The weight of his head settles on her shoulder and the rest of him curls around her, his ragged breaths shaking them both.
As Shiro's grip on her tightens and his chest struggles to stifle his cries, Pidge wonders if anything will ever be okay-if anything she does will be enough to make things better than they are now. Another sob jolts her and Pidge presses her cheek against Shiro's sweat damp hair while rocking him back and forth.
She's glad for the dark and for Shiro's face pressed against her shoulder, hiding her own silent tears from view.
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Okay. This draws a lot from my personal experience, so … yeah … No plot, just … just me feeling incompetent and completely useless in helping those I love with their PTSD. Sorry for ooc Shiro and Pidge.
Wittyvixenle requested a fic about Shiro's PTSD. This is not that fic. That fic is coming. This fic is the one I said I was already working on. It was written mainly for therapeutic purposes.
Please leave comments, constructive criticism, and/or questions in the box below.