Back at the Castle of Lions, the team regroups in the lounge and debriefs everyone on their separate missions. I sit next to Allura on the circular couch and listen as Hunk and Lance excitedly recount the details of our mission. Once we've brought everyone up to speed on the state of the Voltron Alliance, the talk turns to a more pressing matter – the lack of Voltron. Everyone's been doing well with their Lions on individual missions, but since the disappearance of Shiro has rendered the Black Lion out of commission, the full might of Voltron is impossible.
"We don't have Shiro anymore, either." Keith says in response to Hunk's statement. "Everyone seems to have forgotten that."
Out of all of us, Keith has been the most affected by Shiro's disappearance. It's understandable. Keith was closest to Shiro, and has never fully opened up to anyone other than him. While the loss of our leader has shaken everyone, Keith has taken the full force of the blow. He's lost the one person he felt most comfortable confiding in.
The effect is that he's more moody and sullen, and more prone to angered outbursts triggered by anything from the mice to Lance's poorly-timed jokes. When he's not on the training deck, working out until he drops, he's in his room with the door shut, closed off from anyone else.
We've all taken the blow differently. Allura and Coran seem the most unaffected, but I've noticed the way Coran's eyes don't seem to twinkle as merrily as they used to, and I've seen the creases around Allura's eyes that weren't there before. Hunk's food doesn't taste quite so good anymore, and more than once, I've caught him shaking his fist at the food goo dispensers or kicking the oven door in frustration. Lance is still Lance, but even his jokes are more half-hearted and don't ring with his usual flippancy. Pidge now gets less than two vargas of sleep per night as she slaves away in front of the computer, renewing her efforts to find her family. With Shiro gone, the little hope she'd had at getting him back after the Kerberos mission has all but vanished, like a seasonal pond in the heat of summer.
For my part, I'm probably the least connected to Shiro, but that doesn't mean I don't feel his absence. I feel it whenever I see Pidge finally pass out with exhaustion in front of the computer after a night of no sleep. I feel it whenever there's silence where Lance's jokes should be. I feel it whenever I walk by the training deck and watch as Keith tears apart the gladiator in a fit of blind rage, then collapses to the floor, shaking with pent-up emotion he doesn't want anyone to see. I feel everyone else's pain as my own. On top of that, the whole incident is reminding me of how I felt when I woke up on Olkarion after the crash with a huge gap in my memory. I remember how it felt like there was a hole somewhere inside me, and I couldn't fill it no matter how I tried.
It's like that now. Seeing everyone's gloomy faces sends a spear through my heart, and I wish once more I could do more to help.
Allura sighs and folds her hands very tightly in her lap. "It may be hard to accept," she begins delicately, "but it is time to think about finding a new pilot for the Black Lion."
The silence after feels heavy and suffocating, like a blanket settling on everyone's shoulders. Keith leaps to his feet.
"No!" He says, and I'm surprised at the determination and fire fueling his voice. "I'm going to find him! Shiro is the one person who never gave up on me. I won't give up on him."
With that, he turns and stalks out the door, leaving the rest of us to sit there in despondent silence.
I see nothing of Keith until that evening's dinner with the leaders of the new coalition. I arrive in the dining hall to find the paladins all in their armor (buffed to a polish), and Allura looking as graceful as ever in her Altean finery. I look down at my simple Olkarian dress robes (gray with a dash of teal and orange) and blush.
Five leaders from various systems and planets are present, and I try not to appear nervous when Coran rings a small bell, signaling us all to be seated. Hunk appears from the kitchen, wearing an apron over his yellow armor and beaming from ear to ear. He sets a plate full of pizza rolls and pigs-in-blankets onto the table and my mouth begins to water. How long has it been since I tasted food from Earth?
As Kolivan stands and begins to explain the situation, I glance over at Keith, who seems to be very intently studying the tabletop. He hasn't moved since he sat down, and he sits so still he could almost be a statue. I wonder what's going through his head. His violet-gray eyes are glassy and sunken, but it's impossible to tell what he's thinking.
My attention snaps from Keith back to the matter at hand when I catch the word "Voltron" in conversation. Trying to appear poised and not startled, I look up and tune in just in time to hear the leader of Puig ask if they could see Voltron. I bite my lip and look to Allura. She fights back a grimace and manages to keep her face straight.
"Th-the people you see before you are the Paladins of Voltron." She says.
I watch the leader of Puig, the only one with visible irises, as his eyes pan over each of the people sitting opposite him and his companions, starting with me. I shift lower in my seat and try to look as inconspicuous as possible, as if my body language and the fact I'm wearing robes and not armor will somehow silently convey the message that Allura's description doesn't include me.
"Excellent!" He says, his smile wide. "Can they form Voltron now?"
Everyone freezes and looks towards Allura, who falters once again.
"Well," She begins, but never gets farther than that. Keith, who hasn't moved at all since the beginning of the dinner, now comes to life at last.
"We can't form Voltron, okay?" He snaps. His voice is harsh and grating, like he's trying to keep it from cracking. "We can fly the lions, but Voltron is not happening."
All the leaders gasp. Cringing, I glance at Allura for help, but she appears to be made of ice. She recovers quickly, though, and I have to admire her diplomatic skills. It's something I've been working on, though I'm nowhere near as graceful as she is. She's not entirely unflappable, however – I've seen firsthand how single-mindedly ruthless she is when someone she cares about is in danger, or how quickly she panics when she's overworked and running on two vargas of sleep. Right now, however, despite the awkward situation, she does her best to appear as calm as she can. And it works, for the most part. She fumbles for words, then tries to assuage the concerned leaders staring at her, only to be interrupted by Keith again.
"Shiro is gone!" He blurts, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. "He was the Black Lion, and until we find him, there is no Voltron."
Hunk is elbowing him in the side, looking nervously back and forth between him and me. Pidge leans across the table to look at me and Allura, her eyes wide. Even Lance looks concerned and Coran, from his seat beside me, tugs on his moustache and furrows his eyebrows in embarrassment.
Kolivan, who hasn't sat down since the beginning, comes to the rescue.
"The lions are still a substantial fighting force, and this castle is also a considerable weapon." He explains, his authoritative voice a calming ointment to Keith's abrasive tone.
The system leader sitting across from Pidge says in an echoing, metallic voice, "My people have been enslaved for centuries by soldiers who look exactly like you!" Although her face doesn't change much, I can hear the underlying tone of distrust and hurt in her voice.
"Yes!" The leader of Puig pipes in. "Our people have heard the legend of Voltron, how he defeated Zarkon. That is what gave them hope. What are we supposed to tell them now?"
I glance over at Keith just in time to see his eyebrows twitch and his eyes narrow even further before he leaps to his feet and slams his fists down on the table, making the plates and cups jump with a metallic clatter.
"Tell them to stand up and fight for themselves!" He shouts, his voice ringing, but hoarse at the same time. "Voltron is gone!"
For the second time that day, he storms out of the room, leaving a dead silence in his wake. One could have heard a pin drop in the air that seemed thick with tension, like the sky before a storm. I glance helplessly at Allura, who gives me a discreet nod. That's all I need. Quietly excusing myself, I scoot out of my chair and slip out the door just as everyone's attention is directed to Hunk, who tries to lighten the mood by offering the food he's cooked. Whether it works is anyone's guess, because I'm already outside the door, glad to be away from all the unnerving stares and tension so thick I could cut it with a knife.
Adjusting the hem on my robes, I pause and think about which way Keith could have gone. The bridge is a possibility, although less likely than the training deck or his room. But something tells me in this particular case Keith wouldn't storm off just to go sit on his butt. He's energetic and twitchy, and after an outburst like that, he's bound to want to go let off some steam. After mentally running through a map of the castle (I still get lost sometimes!), I head off in the direction of the training deck.
Keith isn't there – the room is empty, and there's no signs of it having been touched since I used it yesterday. The bo-staff I left propped against the far wall beside the control port is still there, along with the bag of dirty socks and gloves I left in a heap next to the door for Coran. Wondering where Keith could have gone if he wasn't here, I decide to check his room. The door is closed, of course, and about a dobash of knocking without hearing so much as a scratch from the other side tells me it's likely unoccupied. Frustrated, I head up to the bridge, only to find it empty. I let out an exasperated sigh and flop down in one of the paladin seats.
"Oh, come on!" I shout, my voice sounding small and fragile in the silence. "Where could you be?!"
Only when I sit up and finally collect my thoughts do I take note of a particular feature I hadn't seen before. On the command center, where Allura usually stands, a holo-screen has been left active, no doubt by Pidge or Hunk. It shows a schematic of the ship, including the lion's hangars. It's all in shimmery Altean blue, of course, but one of the hangars is flashing red, and a warning light is blipping from the corner of the holo-screen. I get up from my seat to take a closer look, feeling a sense of impending dread. I get close enough to see which hangar is flashing and a weight settles in my stomach like a lead ball when I realize what the warning means.
The bay door has been opened and the Lion is gone.
For a moment, I stand there, stunned. Then I shake my head to clear it and realize it makes perfect sense. Of course. He's looking for Shiro. Keith is so riled up right now, he needs to feel like he's doing something. He's been out with Red almost nonstop for the past few quintants, looking for Shiro, and getting more and more frustrated each time. He must be doing that now.
I sigh. Rather than trying to establish a commlink, I decide to wait outside Red's hangar for his return. I grab a vid-screen to keep me busy while I wait, and also to alert me when he comes back.
Two vargas later, the alert I've set up on the vid-screen finally starts flashing, interrupting me in the middle of the Altean book I'd been reading. I shut off the vid-screen and tuck it into my robes just in time to see the airlock's outer doors open and the Red Lion flying in. After a few ticks, the inner doors open and the Lion stalks into the hangar and sits down almost with a sigh. I wait for a few more dobashes, anxiously twisting the ends of my Olkarian robes before the Lion's jaw lowers and opens, and Keith finally appears. His helmet is tucked under one arm and he's scrubbing at his face with the heel of his other hand. When he looks up and sees me, his expression hardens and he stalks by without saying a word.
Multiple thoughts run through my head and I decide to just play it by ear and try to be sympathetic rather than demanding.
Keith is stalking purposefully away from the hangar and down towards his room. I follow behind, not knowing if I should say something and deciding to keep my mouth shut and let him make the first move. After several heartbeats' silence, he turns on his heels so suddenly I skid to a halt in surprise. His face is red and his eyes are puffy, but I don't see any tears.
"What do you want?!" He shouts in my face, his voice raw and hoarse, like a scraped knee.
"What do you think?" I say cooly.
Keith stares at me for a moment longer before turning away again, clenching his fists by his side in an effort to keep calm.
"I don't need your help." He spits.
I swallow carefully before speaking. "Your behavior in the dining room would indicate otherwise."
He snorts, sounding derisive.
I press further. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. You left in an awful hurry, and we're all just concerned about you, is all."
"You think there's something wrong with me?" Keith asks in the same harsh voice, and the hurt and anger in his voice is more apparent than ever.
"I didn't –" I begin, but am cut off by more angry words.
"None of you understand!" He cries, bitterness fueling every word. "I thought he was dead for over a year! Now suddenly he's back, only to be wrenched away again! I'm back to not knowing what happened to him, or if he's even still alive! Don't you get it? None of you have ever come close to understanding that!"
Keith's outburst is unusual – he's often assumed things about others but tends to keep those to himself. This angered exclamation and overall assumption is unnaturally presumptuous and forward of him. I wonder what has motivated this vindictive and almost callous blanket statement that disregards everyone else's (equally real) feelings on the subject. I feel a surge of frustration, almost hurt that he would consider everyone else's feelings on the matter as inferior to his own.
"That's where you're wrong." I say bluntly, rather astonished at my own gumption. I've been practicing diplomacy for quite some time now, and this approach isn't my usual one. But then, neither is Keith's, and perhaps it will startle him enough to make him realize how foolish he sounds.
"What would you know about it?" He snaps, his voice taking on a sneering tone. "You don't even remember your family."
The words hit me like a slap across the face. All thoughts of diplomacy are gone. My fists tighten and I take a step forward, and when I speak, my voice is shrill and accusing.
"Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't feel the pain of those around me!"
That stops Keith dead in his tracks. Whatever train of thought he'd had up until now is derailing, and I can see it happening.
"You're not the only one with feelings, Keith!" I shout at him. "Have you ever stopped to consider what anyone else might be going through? What about Pidge, who's lost almost her whole family? Can you imagine what it might feel like for her?"
Keith is quite taken aback, and it's almost satisfying to see him at a loss for words. I continue on my tirade, hurt and frustration bubbling to the surface, like a kettle boiling over.
"And don't you dare accuse me of not knowing what it's like! Just because I don't remember my family doesn't mean I don't understand what you're going through!"
I'm screaming in his face now. My fury is rolling off my skin in waves of heat, and my eyes sting with hard-to-suppress tears.
"How can you be so stupid?" I shout, my voice matching Keith's in hoarseness and raw, throbbing hurt. "Stop saying we don't understand!"
My brain seems to shut down, and the only thing that makes sense is to get away. The world blurs around me and I only really regain my senses when I'm back in my room with the door shut. Now that I'm in a shut-in space, the anger and emotion I'm feeling seems to swell and fill the small room. My hands itch from my fingernails digging into my palms, and I realize Keith's idea of going off to look for Shiro on a whim does have some merit. I feel like destroying something.
After changing into my exercise clothes, I grab my blaster gauntlets from a bag by the door and head to the training deck. The swish of cooled air as I leap and dodge around the room, the creak of the gladiator's joints, and the clang of metal on metal as we clash weapons should be working to keep my mind off things, but instead serve only to drive the injustice further to the front of my mind, so I can think of nothing else. My bo-staff is a blur of motion, and I take savage pleasure in dispatching the metal man with the blasters on my gauntlets whenever things get too hairy. Perhaps it's not a very fair fight, but I find no sympathy for the cold, emotionless face of the gladiator. I advance from level to level, more rage fueling each blow as time goes on.
A swish of fabric behind me sends my hyperactive nerves into over-drive. Without thinking, I whirl around in flurry of motion to combat this new enemy, my staff crashing down from above before I even know who – or what – is there.
Clang!
My staff halts abruptly, throwing me off balance when it collides with a solid force. Keith's face is stony, like a brick wall, and his Marmoran blade is held above him in his left hand. He's stopped the full force of my blow with only one arm.
Shocked, I reel backward and we stare at each other for a moment before I attack him again, this time from the side. He parries the thrust easily, and moves in for his own attack. His movements are swift and agile, and it takes all my concentration to keep up with him. We go toe-in-toe for a while, my anger fueling each blow I make. But my anger is clouding my judgment, and eventually he has me backed into a corner. I drop my staff and slide down the wall, utterly spent.
"Not bad." He says. With a flash of metal, his Marmoran blade reverts back to its original size – little more than a pocket knife.
"Go away." I say, hugging my knees. "Can't you see I'm not happy with you right now?"
"Yeah, and that's why I came to find you." Says Keith, squatting down on the floor so we're at eye level.
"To tell me again that I don't understand?" I ask, feeling my vision beginning to blur.
Keith's gaze drops to the ground.
"To tell you I'm sorry."
That wasn't what I was expecting. I have no answer for that, so I just shrug and look at the floor. Keith shifts some more and I can tell he's uncomfortable. "Will you forgive me?" He asks quietly. "I understand if you don't want to, but-"
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "No, no. I'm sorry, too. I yelled at you, too. You were right. Perhaps I don't understand as well as I thought I did."
Now it's Keith's turn to be lost for words. He scoots over to the wall and sits with his back to it next to me.
"I guess…" he begins, "I just…forget, sometimes, that I'm not alone anymore."
In spite of my anger (which is now quickly diminishing), I look up from the floor and meet his violet-gray gaze.
He takes that as a nod to keep talking, so he continues, shifting uncomfortably on the hard metal floor.
"For so long now, I've done things on my own. I'm self-sufficient. Then Shiro came along, and I felt like I had someone to rely on, only for him to be wrenched away by that stupid Kerberos mission. And now, just as I've gotten used to having him back…" He trails off, looking bitter and confused.
I feel a twisting in my heart, like a towel being wrung out. My eyes blur, and I blink to keep the tears at bay. "Oh, Keith!" I blurt. "I'm so sorry! And here I go and yell at you for being uncaring!"
"You were right, though." Keith says between my sniffles. "I was so caught up in my own problems I didn't stop to think about where you all were coming from."
"We're all hurting." I say. "All in our own ways." Wiping my nose with the edge of my sleeve, I turn to him and look him straight in the eye. "Just promise me," I say, dead serious, "that you'll come to someone next time something like this happens, okay?" My voice cracks and I'm so overcome by emotion, it's hard to speak. I swallow and finish. "Don't keep it all bottled in."
Keith nods. "Only if you stop trying to shoulder everyone else's burdens." His eyes narrow, though this time it's from concern instead of anger. "You're hurting, too. I can tell."
We freeze for a moment, our eyes locked. I can feel my eyes blurring even more, my cheeks growing hot, and my bottom lip quivering.
The dam breaks, and I find myself clinging to Keith and crying into his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, he scoots closer and wraps his arms gently around me.
"I'm so sorry!" I mumble through his already sweaty and now tear-soaked shirt. "I wish I could fix this for everyone."
"I know you do." Says Keith in a surprisingly soothing voice. "But none of us can, so all we can do is try and hold each other up, okay?"
I nod, still sniveling into his shirt.
"And I hope you'll forgive me for being a jerk."
I nod again, but am unwilling to let go just yet. This wasn't exactly how I thought the evening would go, but I no longer feel like there's an invisible wall between us. Well, not a big one, anyway. We stay there on the floor long after the tears dry, wrapped in each other's arms. We both stink of sweat, and the scent hangs around us like a wreath, but neither of us care. There's a kind of peace that's settled over us, and I can feel some of the tension dissipate, like the morning mist I used to wake up to every morning on Olkarion.
"Thank you." Keith whispers, and nothing more needs to be said.