Laying down was worse than standing up.

Allura and Krolia had tried to fuss over Keith's injuries once they'd landed on Olkarion, but Keith had managed to stall the conversation while the team transported Shiro's healing pod to a secure location. It had only been twenty-four hours since Allura had performed the miracle that had saved Shiro's life, but for Keith, it felt like a lifetime. Shiro had been unconscious since, lying motionless and ghostly pale in their single remaining pod, and moving him to safety had been everyone's top priority, much to Keith's relief. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone poking or prodding or examining him just now, and as much as it pained him even further to leave Shiro's side, he'd snuck away to his temporary quarters while Allura and Krolia had been distracted by the Olkari healers.

He had found his room stocked with food, water, and a change of clothes, and he'd made a mental note to be gracious with their Olkari hosts after getting a good night's sleep. Team Voltron had arrived at Olkarion with their resources almost entirely depleted – they'd been lucky that their lions had had enough power to make it to a friendly planet at all – and even though the Olkari only had a few hours' advanced notice, the Paladins had been received as heroes.

Keith tried to shift onto his side on his narrow bunk, wincing in pain. He didn't feel particularly heroic. He felt like an insolent child all over again, refusing to let the Garrison medical officer treat his scraped knuckles or bloody nose.

Shiro would not be impressed.

He tried to shift his position again, and groaned audibly this time, his hand moving involuntarily to his ribcage, which only made the pain worse. His wolf raised its head from the floor and whimpered a little, and Keith pushed himself into a sitting position and gave the animal a weak smile.

"It's okay, buddy. It's just a few scrapes."

The wolf eyed him disapprovingly. He sighed.

"Don't look at me like that. I just need to stretch, or something."

The wolf looked unconvinced, but it laid back down and closed its eyes again.

Keith took a handful of shallow breaths, and the pain started to ease. He briefly considered trying to fall asleep sitting up, but the Olkari had only left a single pillow in his room, and as exhausted as he was, he knew he'd never be able to get comfortable leaning against the wall. He decided to try to find some more pillows, or walk the halls until the exhaustion overtook the pain.

He told the wolf to stay put, then left his quarters and started walking. He was already halfway down the hall before he realized where he was headed, and he stopped a few feet away from the medical observation room where Shiro slept, listening for voices. It had been a couple of hours since everyone had started to disperse to their individual quarters, and he didn't hear any noise coming from the room, so he stepped inside, and found a single Olkari monitoring an electronic panel next to Shiro's pod. She looked up and smiled broadly at him.

"Good evening, Paladin. How can I help you?"

"Uh… I'm sorry, I just… how is he doing?"

"His vitals are strong. There's been no change since you arrived. The smallest paladin shared some crucial data with us, so we'll be studying human physiology to see if we can aid in the silver-haired warrior's recovery."

Keith forced a smile. "We owe you all so much. You've probably saved all our lives."

"As all of you have done for us, and so many others."

He walked to the healing pod and looked at Shiro's sleeping face. He resisted the urge to rest his hand on the translucent barrier that was keeping them apart.

"What's your name?" he asked the healer.

"Callos. I'm pleased to be at your service." She was looking at him, her wide eyes kind and curious.

"Thank you. Um. I was actually wondering… do you know where I could find some extra pillows?"

"I'll have some brought to your room immediately. How many would you like?"

"Four or five, if you can spare them."

"We can spare much for the paladins of Voltron."

"Thank you. And… thanks for watching over him."

"We'll alert you if there is any change."

"Okay. Um… good night."

"Rest well, Paladin."

He walked back to the hallway, feeling more restless than ever. He could practically feel Shiro's disapproval from the astral plane – he guessed that if he slipped into a meditative state, Shiro would be there, waiting for him, wearing a scowl that could transcend the boundaries of space and time – and he made a silent vow to let someone determine the extent of his injuries if he didn't feel better by morning.

He stopped walking, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes, suddenly unable to tell the difference between the pain in his ribs and the ache in his heart. And it wasn't just because Shiro was lying unconscious in a pod. It was because a monster wearing Shiro's face had tried to end his life. It was because there was a chance that Shiro might never be the same again. It was because everyone was expecting him to lead, now, even though he'd never felt less heroic in his life. It was because he'd abandoned the only friends he'd ever had, leaving them to face some of the darkest moments of their lives without him, and now that they needed him more than ever, he barely knew them, anymore.

He felt Shiro's disapproval tugging at the corners of his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at the door across the hall for a long time.

Lance was weary to his bones.

He was lying on his back, on his bunk, and the tide of emotion that had been rising in his chest for far too long was finally overtaking him.

Three years.

That was how much time had passed while they'd been battling Lotor inside the quintessence field, and they had barely begun to understand everything that had happened in their absence. Lance was counting the panels on yet another unfamiliar ceiling, thinking about how long it had taken for his room on the Castle of Lions to start to feel like home, and wondering how Allura was feeling, all alone in her quarters down the hall, after losing the only place that had connected her to her family and her people.

After being brutally betrayed by the man she'd fallen in love with.

Lance sighed. He never would've hurt her, like that. If only she had chosen him instead. If only he could figure out how to matter more to her. How to be better. A better problem-solver, like Pidge. A better teammate, like Hunk. A better fighter, like Keith. A better leader, like Shiro…

But Shiro hadn't been the leader they thought he was. Not for a long time.

Shiro had died.

The person Lance admired most in the world had left him, and an imposter had taken his place, and it was a violation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He thought back to the day that not-Shiro had returned to them, and how he'd cried himself to sleep that night, dizzy with relief and gratitude. He recalled the days he'd spent helping not-Shiro regain his strength and rediscover his confidence, how the imposter had made him feel like he was starting to evolve, like he'd helped hold the team together in Shiro's absence, like he finally mattered in some essential way. And not just to the team, or to the mission, but to Shiro, too. He remembered every single order that not-Shiro – his enemy – had given him. And he remembered how the real Shiro had called out to him in warning, and in pain, and in loneliness.

He pressed the side of his face against his pillow, and felt something inside himself start to break apart, because his own loneliness ran deep, now, too.

And then he heard a low tone – someone was at his door – and his weariness vanished. He didn't care who was on the other side of the door, because he needed to escape from himself. Because he couldn't bear to spend one more second alone.

He jumped up from the bed and tapped the door control, and Keith was there, leaning against the frame, looking about as broken as he felt.

"Hey," Keith said.

"Hey, yourself," Lance said.

"Could we talk?"

"Yeah."

Lance moved to the side to let Keith pass. He tapped at the panel again, and the door slid closed.

"How's Shiro?" Lance asked. He was shocked that Keith was here, in his quarters, instead of at Shiro's side.

"He's alive. Aside from that…" Keith sighed. "I have no idea. I think he'll need some time to heal. We all will."

Lance nodded. He raised his hand in Keith's direction, and then paused, and touched his own face, instead, staring at the fresh scar on Keith's cheek.

"Does it hurt?"

"Everything hurts."

Lance swallowed. Keith had always been blunt, but some of his recent admissions felt startlingly personal. His communication style hadn't evolved much, but Keith certainly had.

"Thank you. For bringing him back."

Keith nodded. "He would've done the same for any one of us."

"I know. But none of us could have done what you did."

Keith looked away and raised a hand to the back of his neck, blushing a little. Lance had seen him make this gesture before, but it looked different to him, now. Keith was taller, and he looked so much older. It made Lance feel small and inconsequential, all over again.

"Lance… listen…" Keith was looking at him again. "Hunk told me what happened with Allura."

Lance felt himself blushing, now, too, and his temper flared. "Oh, so you came here to gloat, huh? The girl of my dreams fell for someone else, and you couldn't wait to rub it in?"

Keith scowled. "What? No! What are you even talking about?"

"Allura and Lotor, obviously!" In the past, Lance had always had about ten different biting remarks at the ready for the next time Keith got under his skin, but he was out of practice. "Come on," he went on, running out of steam. "Say what you want to say, and then just… let me get some sleep."

Keith's eyes had gone wide. "You're in love with Allura?"

"Well… yeah. Where have you been?"

He knew how stupid the question was as soon as it was out of his mouth. Keith had been gone. It had been a long time since they'd spent every day in each other's company, catching glimpses of each other's secrets as they trained and flew and fought together as one.

"I just meant… I didn't really try that hard to hide it. I figured everyone knew."

"Well, I guess I just thought it was more of a… crush," Keith said, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was moving in.

"It was, at first. I mean, I didn't even know her. But now I do. And she's perfect. I should've known I never had a shot. I just thought… I don't know. I thought we were getting closer. I thought there was a chance." He examined Keith's wide-eyed expression. "Oh, go ahead. Tell me what an idiot I was."

"No, I… I'm sorry, Lance. It must have been really hard for you to see her with someone else."

Lance stared. Keith was comforting him? They had only spoken to each other like this once before, and he'd written it off as a fluke. A moment of unintentional vulnerability in the face of almost certain death.

"Anyway," Keith said, after an uncomfortably long silence. "I didn't even know about any of that. I was talking about… well… Hunk told me you died."

"Oh." Lance folded his arms across his chest. "Right. Yeah."

"So… I just wanted to see how you were."

Lance shrugged. "Pretty mobile for a corpse, I guess."

"Lance. That's not funny." Keith's expression was serious. "You could've… I mean, you almost…" He turned away, his hands on his hips, and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I should've been there."

"What? No, Keith…" Lance balled his hands into fists, feeling so off-balance, he could barely hear himself think. "Look… I know I said some things before you left, but you made the right choice. I know that now. We've all had to make impossible decisions, and we've all done our best. You don't need to apologize."

"I do. I left you." Keith swallowed. "I left all of you with that thing-"

Lance reached out reflexively and took hold of his arm.

"Keith, stop, okay? It's all right. We all made it. We all get to go home, because of you."

Keith was staring at him again, with eyes he barely recognized. And then Keith cracked a smile, and then he started to laugh.

"What?" Lance was confused, and then annoyed, and then angry as Keith continued to laugh softly, almost to himself. He let go of Keith's arm. "What? What's so funny?"

"You were more worried about Allura and Lotor than the fact that you died. I'm sorry, it's just… it's so you, to be more concerned about a crush than the fact that you were literally raised from the dead…"

He continued to laugh, and Lance scowled at him. "It wasn't just a crush, mullet. I love her."

Keith laughed even harder. "See? That's still what you're worried about?"

Lance opened his mouth, ready to throw Keith out of his room, but then he hesitated, watching as Keith went on laughing and wincing a little, holding his chest like it was sore. And then he heard himself giggling, too, and then laughing in earnest, right along with Keith.

It was ridiculous. He'd been to hell and back since they'd left Earth. He'd left his home and his family behind him, and he'd lost the person he admired most in the world, twice. He'd even lost his own life. And yet here he was, sulking because a girl didn't like him back.

Their bout of silly, exhausted laughter eventually passed, and Keith brushed his hair back from his face, and said, "I'm sorry, man. I really didn't come here to give you a hard time."

Lance nodded. "I know."

"And… listen. I know what it's like, to really… care about another person. I mean, I know what it's like to want something, with someone, even though you know you can never have it."

Lance was holding himself still, now, listening intently. He knew who Keith was talking about.

He was talking about Shiro.

"Keith, I-"

"I just meant," Keith interrupted, "we can talk, if you want to. I feel bad that I left. I feel bad that I haven't been here. So if you want to talk… you know where to find me."

"I do," Lance said, without thinking. "I do want to talk."

Keith nodded. "Okay. Uh. How about tomorrow? After we get some sleep?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow is good."

"Okay." Keith smiled, and extended his hand, and Lance shook it. "See you in the morning?"

"Yeah," Lance said. He tapped the panel on the wall, and the door slid open. "See you then."

Keith stepped into the hallway, and gave him a small wave, and then walked out of his field of vision. Lance tapped the panel one more time, and found himself alone, once again.

The small, sparsely furnished room felt different, now, though. He tried to examine what he was feeling while he undressed and slid under the covers, and he discovered he was grateful that Keith had come to see him. Keith had been downright distraught over what had happened while he'd been gone. Keith cared that he was alive. Enough to come see him in the middle of the night.

Enough to laugh with him, more freely than Lance had ever seen him laugh before.

They had all been to hell and back. Lance hardly recognized himself when he looked in the mirror these days. But not all the changes were unwelcome.

Some things were changing for the better.

Keith woke up a few hours later, not because he was particularly well-rested, but because the pain in his ribs had finally become unbearable. He'd fallen asleep propped up against a mountain of pillows, which saved him the trouble of maneuvering into a sitting position, but the act of standing up from his bunk elicited a strangled yelp. He clamped one hand over his mouth, and clutched at his chest, and his wolf sat up on its hind legs, whimpering softly.

"I know," he managed, swallowing hard. "I'm going right now."

The wolf padded to the wall and tapped the exit panel with its paw. The door slid open, and the wolf walked into the hallway, and then stared at Keith expectantly.

"Okay… I guess we're both going."

The wolf let out a small yip, and Keith followed it down the hallway to the observation room. Callos was still there, scrolling on the display next to Shiro's pod.

"Oh, Paladin, you've barely rested." She looked him over, concern in her expression. "The silver-haired warrior still sleeps. You should, as well."

He nodded. "I know. It's just… I'm… injured."

Her eyes widened with alarm. "Should I summon the princess?"

"No, I… I don't want to worry her. I was hoping you or one of the other healers could take a look for me."

She pressed her fingertips together in what he guessed was a nervous gesture.

"I have only just begun studying your physiology… but maybe I can use the data as a guide if you describe the injury to me. May I examine you?"

"Yeah."

She led him to an empty examination table on the far side of the room, and he sat down on it, wincing in pain even though he kept his weight on his uninjured arm. He removed his shirt with an effort, and then rested his hand lightly over the primary source of discomfort.

"My heart is here. There are curved bones that form a cage around it. Ribs. I think a couple of them might be broken."

"Is that purple area a normal variant in skin color?"

"No. It's a bruise."

"All of those are bruises?"

Keith looked down. He hadn't examined himself closely under a bright light, and he saw that he was covered in bruises and abrasions that varied in size and color. He tried to find an unblemished patch of skin, and settled on his right bicep.

"My skin is supposed to look like this, all over."

She blinked at him, her expression unreadable, and then said, "Where else do you feel pain?"

"Here." He gestured to his left shoulder. "I thought it was just sore, but I can barely move it today."

She nodded. "It will take me some time to parse the data, but we should be able to dull the pain temporarily. I'll summon another healer to assist you while you wait."

She went back to the panel and tapped at it, and then scrolled, her eyes locked on the screen. Keith deliberated for a moment, and then walked over to Shiro's pod and examined his face. His expression looked a little different than it had the night before. Had he been dreaming? Was he in pain?

Keith glanced at the healer and found her absorbed in her research, so he rested his palm against the translucent surface of the pod, and closed his eyes.

It was once a massive effort, chasing after the state of mind that allowed him to bond with his lion and his teammates. But now he could slip into it easily, and he couldn't help but wonder whether Shiro had been the one to finally calm the storm he used to carry inside himself. He had connected more deeply with Shiro than he'd ever imagined possible when he'd been piloting the black lion, and even though he knew he was there, sleeping inside this pod, he felt like a part of Shiro had come to life inside his mind. It was strange, and unsettling, and… exciting. So he lowered himself into the depths of calm vulnerability, and he reached out with his mind, and caught a glimpse of Shiro at the edges of the darkness.

No, it wasn't a glimpse. He couldn't see anything. It was a flavor. A whisper. A hint of something familiar, like a measure of a song half-heard through some faraway speakers.

Shiro.

The notes stabilized. The song started to take shape.

It's me. It's Keith. I'm here.

There was a shimmer in the twilight.

Keith… you found me.