The Right Arm of a Champion

Summary: After training recklessly to release the emotions surrounding his feelings for Lance and Keith, Shiro reluctantly agrees to time in the healing pods. In his cryo-sleep, he relives the day he lost his arm...
Word Count: 543
Pairings: None in the story

A/N: This was a scene I wrote for a RP I'm doing with a lovely Keith RPer. However, the content became graphic enough (and long enough) I feared actually leaving it in the RP itself without putting up the rating of my page. Since I have more room here, I have expanded on the scene a little and created a story out of it and have chosen to simply leave a link to it. I chose mature...this isn't explicitly as graphic as I can get (but that wouldn't have fit in this story).

Naturally dedicated to both the lovely Keith and Lance, who both make present Shiro one very happy man. Special thanks to Keith, as the recipient of this hell I have put both of our boys through.


Shiro woke slowly, eyes widening as his heart began beating rapidly in his chest. How long had he been out? Gray eyes darted left, then right, sharp and immediately recognizing his surroundings as adrenaline surged through him. He clenched his shaking hands into fists, nails digging into flesh as he struggled against the straps pinning him to the table. Painfully, his dominant shoulder protested as he attempted to push himself off, the strap around his stomach knocking the wind out of him.

Some small part of him recognized this wasn't real, or wasn't real any longer, but that part of him still ran cold as the door in front of him slid open and revealed the all too familiar druid and her accomplices.

Not a single word passed among them, or Shiro was too busy physically and verbally protesting to hear anything but the single address 'Champion'. He succeeded in breaking the skin of his palms and ripping his uniform, but the guards simply shoved him back onto the metal and gripped his arms unforgivingly tight.

A sharp pain stabbed into his right side, drawing his attention, distracting him from the shock that slammed into his chest to drain the remaining fight out of him. His heart skipped, spasming his limbs and tearing the breath from his lungs. The electrifying pain contrasted sharply with the sedative, but his body refused to succumb even as a second shock, less potent but still agonizing, connected with his temple. He became aware of his screams only as the raw vibrations of his throat registered, the sound muted as his ears rang. The stench of burned fabric and skin nauseated him, or maybe the sudden loss of his sense of balance combined with the efforts to put him under were even too much for his adrenaline to counteract. He still struggled, receiving no further shocks but earning himself a few self-inflicted bruises as he battered his head and cheeks into the surface beneath.

He refused to stay still, to do anything but continue to fight even as low threats of broken limbs went from low growls to comprehensible danger. The room tilted and blurred, as the buzzing of adrenaline in his veins grew to a heated frenzy. His senses screamed a warning, survival instinct and honed intuition whipping his head right and keeping his eyes pried open to their fullest. The druid's expression was untranslatable to him, but the deep buzz of the instrument in the hand slowly descending down towards his right arm was not.

As he slipped under, certain his mind was too numb to feel anything, his right side flared and burned, the sensation pulling a primal scream and jolt from his body before he blacked out entirely...

The glass of the Castle's healing pod slid open, and Shiro's eyes snapped open as he staggered and fell to the floor, screaming and clutching his right arm with his left and trying desperately to claw the suit from his limb. Unfocused as phantom pain and adrenaline raced through him, he finally managed with a strangled cry to rend the obstacle slightly before he simply cradled his right arm to his chest, breathing short and unaware of anything but the tremors and sobs shaking his frame.