I'm sorry for what you're about to read! I'm writing this at 3 am (not my best decision, I know) so you'll have to excuse anything horrible. This oneshot takes place during the earlier seasons, ya know, before the Voltron fandom began to run around like everything's on fire. Anyway, 'nuff said. Just... be prepared for angst. Lost of angst.
Red.
That's all Shiro sees.
Red, tinging his vision as he desperately slashes at the Galra.
Red, as the final soldier falls, eyes wide and gasping for breath.
Red, marring the once clean armor that was colored green and white.
Red, trailing all the way up to unseeing eyes.
-Five minutes earlier-
"We're almost there!" Pidge repeated for the third time, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. Shiro tried his best to hide his huff of irritation as they once again came to a dead end of a purple-colored hall.
Team Voltron had caught wind of rumors recently; rumors that said the Galra were building a war machine. One that was powerful enough to destroy planets. And of course, something that powerful could not remain in Galran hands.
Thus began the mission.
Even as Pidge tried her best to find its location, every turn they took lead to three more. She did her best to resist the urge to claw her hair out, especially at the shouts of her teammates -who were barely fighting off the sentries outside- echoed in her helmet.
"Pidge." Shiro's voice cut through the rising panic, and the girl looked up at him. "Deep breaths." The green paladin did her best to listen, to force her desperation down. "I believe in you, Pidge. Focus." His soothing words lessened the pit that had formed in her stomach.
"Thank you." Pidge whispered, a sincere smile crossing her lips. Shiro's smile matched hers, and he opened his mouth to say something.
But whatever Shiro was going to say, he never got the chance.
An explosion tore through the hallway they were in, sending both paladins flying. Shiro was sprawled on the floor, groaning as he fought to stay conscious. He glanced up, only to see that Pidge was no better off. The black paladin turned toward the gaping hole in wall, and fear clenched his heart as sentries marched in.
Ten, at least.
"-ro? Shiro, get up!" Shiro registered that Pidge was calling to him. The green paladin was already on her feet, bayard in hand. His body protested every movement, but Shiro climbed to his feet, determined to win this battle. He was prepared to sacrifice whatever it took to save the innocents from the Galran hands.
But he hadn't been prepared for the sacrifice to come.
Shiro had run forward, his robotic arm glowing a bright purple, one that was a sharp contrast to the dull color of the hall. One clean swipe to the head of a soldier, and he was out. Shiro rolled when a blaster bolt sailed in his direction, using the momentum to take out another Galra.
What the black paladin hadn't realized, was that the weapon had not been aiming at him.
A cry of pain, one that Shiro never wanted to hear, sounded out.
He turned to see Pidge clutching at her gut, an expression of anguish crossing her features. For one horrifying second, neither paladin could move. And in that one second, two more sentries fired. A hoarse scream tore from Shiro's throat as one bolt claimed her left shoulder, and the next, the center of her chest.
Pidge fell.
Red.
That was all Shiro could see.
It clouded his vision like a fog as he dove for the first Galran he could get his hands on, making quick work of the one who dared to touch her. His teammates questioned him, wanting to know what happened. But Shiro didn't hear them, he only heard the sound of the desperate soldier, clawing at the hand that held to his neck.
Red.
The fog had turned into complete clarity, complete rage, as Shiro turned to his final target. The one who had fired the first bolt. The black paladin smiled cruelly when the monster fell. And suddenly, the rage is gone, and Shiro feels sick.
Red.
It's replacing what once was green on her armor, and there's so much of it. Overwhelming everything as Shiro pulled her into his arms, unable to stop the ragged breaths that shook his frame.
Red.
The color was flecked against the brown orbs. Her eyes, so full of life, were now glassy and vacant. Shiro began to rock her small form, desperately begging her to come back, please.
His own pleas drown out the sound of footsteps behind him.
He doesn't hear Keith's scream of anger.
He doesn't hear Lance's cry of anguish dissolve into tears.
He doesn't hear Hunk's wails.
He doesn't hear Allura's choked sob.
The red was suffocating.