Ladies and gents, in the spare time that I have finally gotten my creativity has taken over. Perhaps this is an off the wall idea, but my curiosity got the better of me...and for being the work of a couple hours in the afternoon I must say I'm a little proud. Thank you all for being so supportive, all of your kind reviews have bolstered my confidence.

Please enjoy. Do not flame me or be rude. I obviously don't own this show – I spend my days talking to fish and attempting to save them.

Young Pidge's story has touched my soul... I have so much admiration for her.

Happy Writing,

~Eliana

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When Keith first saw her on her knees in the gazing deck, his curiosity was surprisingly outweighed by a strong sense of remorse. It was probably the equivalent of two o'clock in the morning back home, so everyone (surprisingly, even Shiro) was sound asleep in their own individual rooms – this was a rare night in that he himself had trouble falling asleep. With the amount of physical activity he did in a day it was hardly ever a problem falling asleep...nights like this were usually caused by something that he couldn't explain. He had to be awake for something. So after two hours of staring at a blank steel wall in front of his face he finally grew irritated and began to randomly wander the Castle of Lions hall by hall. It was probably about an hour of wandering that brought him here...and he stood, without knowing what to do, staring at his dear surrogate baby sister's back.

This was very unlike how Keith had ever seen her, so very much out of the realm of her normalcy. Here she was, on her knees on the very cold steel floor facing the holographic window looking out into the vastness of space. It was so out of the norm that she didn't have her typical long-sleeved shirt on (that was how she hid, hid herself and hid her scars), and had instead opted for a sleeveless shirt that, even from his spot behind her, gave evidence to the jutting collarbone and selective ribs that rippled the side of the fabric. Even as an adolescent female, good saints alive she was too thin. She was shockingly barefoot, no evidence of her shoes hidden anywhere. He couldn't see her face, but Keith could float a guess – given that her left arm was bent and holding some object in front of her face, her expression must have been some solemn reflection of raw grief that tore at his heart every time he saw it.

But it wasn't how thin, how pale, or how small she was that rocked Keith to his core and set alarm bells off in his head. It was the deactivated bayard that rested on the stone next to her right leg that made him immediately very concerned.

Pidge was a fighter. Of course she was, she was the most intelligent, determined, singularly gifted young lady he had ever met. Being so, she was a complex person too – her facade had obviously taken her a very long time to perfect.

Pidge was his new baby sister. She was half the height of her surrogate brothers, probably less than half the weight, had twice as many demons...yet she was also the most ludicrously intelligent person he had ever met in his life. He had been a star student at the garrison, and as much as he bristled at the thought of being ousted by anyone, coming in second to Pidge in any form of mind game would be considered a high honor in his opinion. It was clear to him that she had spent a very long time working on her facade, and it was indeed her greatest weapon. Only once had her rougher side shown in front of him when she confronted Shiro on the Galra ship those weeks ago, and when she so vehemently spoke to their captain Keith got a very strong understanding of what it was that was hidden. When she had fought Haxus in the castle late that damned night, he almost instantly noted a shift in her personality. Shiro refused to let her back in that room for days after during the cleanup...and Keith wouldn't have, either.

Yet she only ever talked to Shiro. True, she was always speaking. Whether it be some rambled-off lines about a translation she had done or muttering to herself under her breath as she hard-wired a control panel by hand, she was always talking about something. But the one thing Pidge hated more than talking about herself was backing down.

There was the double-standard. He was curious...and he wanted to offer help but she shied away from him. And Lance. And Hunk and Coran. Even, at times, Allura. She could easily play it off by some arbitrary conversation to bait their attentions away, and as ashamed as he was to admit it, they almost always fell for it. She hid in her lab, for the obvious reason of attempting to find her family, but he assumed to also hide away from prying eyes.

Her family...now that was where things really got to be confusing to Keith. He well knew of Sam and Matt Holt, well before he had even met Pidge. She was willing to talk about them some times...rarely. In pieces. But there was never one word about her mother. She didn't carry a picture of her mother, never spoke about her, and when she spoke about Sam and Matt she called them her family. Her emphatic use of that word for only those two made Keith truly ponder...and he could be completely wrong, of course. But if he was right, it would explain why she was so overwhelmingly driven to find them. Of course he hated to tell her that the chances of finding them was high...but the chances of finding them alive were nearly nullified... but she was trying so very hard at such a young age to believe that she wasn't an orphan.

Whether by death or her daughter's choice Keith could only assume that the woman had been removed from Pidge's life...and he was willing to bet that his baby sister had yet to grieve that loss. So instead she kept her mind busy, constantly driving herself to stay awake at all hours of the night, avoiding the dining room so as to avoid the over-concern of her teammates, and now this. As unhealthy as it was for her, Keith had to admit that he was...impressed. In her mind, he wasn't there...so he alone was witness to her only other method of keeping the pain at bay.

So here she was now, in almost a meditative state, what he assumed was the picture of herself and brother in front of her and a deactivated sacred bayard by her side. Why the hell did she need that weapon right now? He jumped just slightly when he saw the very faint pink scars on top of her arms move as she shifted (scars? Where did they come from? He assumed it was either from the Galra or perhaps working on her lion...or that's what he convinced himself), setting the hard evidence of her father and brother's picture so gingerly on the ground next to her. With a trembling, too pale hand she grabbed the deactivated bayard, bringing it back to life to illuminate the room in a soft green light. Keith braced himself to shoot across the room –

Then the air left his lungs when he saw what she did next. Glasses set on top of her family's photo, she wrapped her left hand deeply in her hair, bowing her head to pull it as far from her skull as she could...and positioned the blade four inches from her scalp in the position to slice right through the silky, tawny brown handful.

...but she couldn't. He knew that the moment he saw her muscles lock and her ribs began to tremble as she held her breath. Keith felt his heart break when she slowly brought the weapon back to her side. She didn't pick her head back up...instead her shoulder heaved just slightly with effort. The silky hair was slowly released from her grasp and feathered itself down to delicately tickle her neck, its length now almost an inch over her collarbone. That photograph shocked him every time, because she looked so much more like herself.

She was still hiding. To them, she would never be Katie, she would always be Pidge. She made herself far more masculine than she ever wanted to be to avoid being identified as the weak link...and to try and help her to not give in to the deep anxieties that had begun to come about after she made it known to them that she wasn't actually who she made out to be. She was trying to force herself to continue to hide.

There came a day that the wall fell completely for a few seconds, a day where Keith had to fight every nerve in his body to not immediately jump over and beat Lance senseless. While Pidge could hold a straight face and fight back his idiotic comments with irritation, Keith truly felt that he was the only one that saw the flash of fear when he hinted on any version of that subject... and for some reason the fear came onto Pidge stronger this time than the last few, and for a moment he swore he had seen her small legs twitch as though she had wanted to bolt out of the room and immediately scurry into some hole.

Lance didn't seem to get that she had built a shell against his 'harmless' wonton thoughts toward women but now...Pidge was nervous. She didn't need to be, he wanted to reassure her, but he understood exactly why she was so on edge. Historically he had a belief that the paladins were male... the tortures that could be used against a woman were so much more horrific than those that he could ever come up with against another man. She had her guard up. In time, maybe, she would let it down, but she seemed hyper-aware. An anxiety disorder was obvious...but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what would have caused that in such a once-normal young lady. There were no therapists or psychiatrists or helpful medications out here...so Keith became her silent guardian.

And that day, her unguarded golden eyes met his for a fleeting moment but as soon as he twitched to move forward she gave almost a jerk and the wall flew back up, as she scowled:

"Yeah, whatever, man," to Lance.

Not an earth hour later, she was hiding in her lab.

In this moment, Keith could have been her observer forever...but then he heard it. It was an almost-silent sniffle – no one, and no thing, ever had the right to make his baby sister cry. If it had been a person, he would have been out for blood. Instead, he took a deep, steadying breath, then lightly knocked on the wall behind him to alert her of his presence.

It worked instantly, and every hair on her neck stood on end as her head shot up, her body whipping around in an instant defensive stance pointing in his direction. She had tears glazing her eyes, but they hadn't fallen yet...instead she looked...lost. Ashamed. Alone. Drawn. Exhausted. Lost. Almost gaunt.

"Keith," she whispered with a raspy voice, deactivating her bayard and slightly shifting backward away from him, "W-what are you doing up?"

"You don't have to do that."

He avoided her question all together, instead fixing her with a piercing stare. She seemed to recoil under it. He could almost hear the wheels in her head turning, and he waited for it...it didn't take long.

"Look at the stars, you mean? Right now, of course I don't have to but it's kind of nice to do so early especially when all my work is done it does wonders for clearing my mind – I mean we see them all the time while we're fighting the Galra in space but we don't get to really look -"

"Pidge."

Keith's voice was calm, yet firm, and it instantly cut through her rambling, stopping it dead in its tracks. She ducked her head just a bit, the honey irises fixed on the ground.

"C'mon now," he said after a minute, trying to relax his posture to make her less on-edge, "You know what I mean."

She hesitated, then sat down fully, crossing her legs and bending them toward her – he could swear he could actually hear her racing thoughts even as she just sat, focusing on her breathing. He got excited when she finally sucked in a shuddering breath, opened her mouth...then she stopped, taking a large gulp. The walls went back up.

"Why do you do that to yourself?" Keith asked out of pure, morbid curiosity. That got her attention, and she looked at him with an odd look.

"What?"

"Build yourself up to actually talk, to vent...and then immediately shut yourself down like you deserve some kind of punishment for wanting to confide in someone?"

She almost seemed to bristle at that, her hand clutching her deactivated bayard tightly.

"I talk all the time."

"Not about anything substantial about you."

"Things about me have no bearing on the mission at hand -"

"But that doesn't mean that you have nothing to say," now his voice was gentle, and her eyes instantly fell again to the cold floor, "Why are you afraid?"

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?"

"You know what I mean," Keith grumbled before he squared his shoulders, slowly striding over toward her. The hairs on her neck visibly stood up but otherwise she didn't move, even as he sat on the ground in front of her, folding his own legs so their knees nearly touched. He drew a steadying breath, and then spoke, "Pidge, look...listen, you know what I meant. And I kinda think that we need to talk about it because I know you're worried about it. You don't need anything else to worry about. Okay?"

She nodded, but didn't look at him.

"Listen...I knew from the day I met you that you weren't a guy. That doesn't matter to me. You're no more vulnerable, no more weak, no more of a target than the rest of us...look, we all care a lot about you."

He rubbed his head. He was no good at pep-talks... but he had to say this. For him, but mostly for her.

"Pidge," he spoke soothingly, slowly bending forward to touch her shoulders, gently pushing her backward so she sat straight and looked into his eyes, "I would never, never hurt you. In any way. I mean it – and neither would the others. You're part of this family now, you're my little sister. And I will protect you."

He squeezed her shoulders.

"It's okay to be afraid," he told her, "You can be afraid of the entire universe – and every thing in it. But please, Pidge, please, don't be afraid of me."

They sat like that for probably a good two or three minutes before Pidge finally moved, slowly grabbing his hands and unhooking their light grasp on her bony collarbone, bringing them back down to rest on their knees but not not letting the go. Her eyes went to them, but this time she spoke.

"When I signed up as a cadet with the garrison," she whispered so quietly he strained to hear her, "The chances of me making it as a female were...slim to none. Not that learning was an issue but typically women aren't permitted on longer missions. My hair was the one thing I was kind of proud of but when I had to choose between it and maybe finding my family I just...I chose... it wasn't a hard decision. For the most part I blended in and then when we all became a team you guys accepted me so quick because you saw me as one of the guys but... you know just like I do that if I ever get caught, or lost -"

"I will never let that happen," Keith ground out, squeezing her hands tightly, "Ever."

She swallowed thickly, her thumb nervously tapping on his right hand.

"I...I got rid of my hair to help find them. I don't want it to grow and then...I know it sounds stupid, but the normal is now shorter hair but I can't – I can't cut it."

"Then don't."

His answer was simple.

"You don't have to hide from us. You don't have to try and 'blend in'. You're our friend. You're our sister."

He was quiet to give her a moment when he heard her breath hitch, her face slowly flushing pink in reaction to the stress of her trying not to cry. He knew he never would willingly in front of him and that was just fine, but he wasn't going to leave her struggling like this. A sudden parallel came to his mind, and he smiled fondly.

"You know," he told her, untangling one of his hands to gently tip up her chin, "I think I'm going to start calling you 'Mulan'."

Her exhausted face became confused. He only smiled a little more warmly, slowly standing up and delicately collecting her family's photo before turning to her, offering his hand to pull her to her feet. She sat still for a pregnant silence before giving a weak smile, accepting his hand up and following him when he pulled her out of the room. They traveled the halls quietly until they reached the 'dorm rooms', sitting down on the couch in the soft glow of crystal light. Keith knew she wouldn't sleep in her room, but he had another idea. Setting up some of the spare blankets that were haphazardly tossed over the couch's back he made sure Pidge was tucked in and resting comfortably before handing her her picture. Her bayard was tucked safely next to her on the floor. Sitting at her head, he began to untie his boots...when her voice called to him.

"..Keith?"

"Yeah Pidge?"

"What did you call me?"

He smiled, tossing a blanket over his legs as he propped them up, his left hand slowly reaching over to gently run through her growing hair.

"Mulan?"

"...yeah..." she was so tired...Keith's hand massaging her scalp had her getting more and more relaxed, "..what does that mean?"

Keith smiled down on her, continuing his fond touch. His soft voice would lead her safely off to sleep, and it was then, in that moment, that their bond grew ever stronger.

"Many thousands of years ago on ancient China, there was a young woman named Mulan..."

As it turned out, he was wonderful story teller...and for the first night in over a year, Katie slept without nightmares. And when Shiro found them only a couple hours later, he only smiled, brushing Katie's sleeping cheek with his finger and gazing proudly at Keith before silently retreating. They were stronger together.

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Please leave a short review if you'd like, I do hope you all enjoyed it.

God bless.

Happy Writing,

~Eliana