Here's the next chapter! Today I spent the morning dealing with a washer repairman, because, of all possible things, a pair of pants had literally wedged themselves in between parts of the washer and we literally could not get them out. Wild. But at least we got that fixed! Also, let me tell you, I cannot count the number of times while writing Adam's POV that I had to go back and change Shiro's name to Takashi. It's so easy to forget that he calls him by his first name!

Anyways, I hope everyone likes the new chapter! Until next time!

flicker

chapter two

after the dust settles

For all that they were in the middle of a full scale alien invasion, Keith seemed awfully calm. He set to his tasks with an almost detached sense of efficiency, hauling out large, empty jugs and gradually filling them up with water. He'd offered to help, but Keith had just turned him down, citing his broken leg.

Which was as good enough an argument as any, but it still made Adam feel restless- not to mention kind of useless. Leaving all the work to a kid just didn't feel right.

He'd already gathered that Keith wasn't much of a talker- he did most of his work in complete silence. It was only when he caught Adam looking at him, that he thought maybe he should say something.

"Don't know how long we'll have running water for." Keith explained. "I know where to find an underground spring that has clean water, but it's at least a mile out into the desert. Best to fill these up while we still have the chance."

"I'm just surprised you even get running water out here." Adam observed.

Keith responded to that with a simple hum, lapsing back into silence. Adam accepted it for what it was. He was pretty sure that Keith hadn't expected to have company during what might as well basically qualify as the end of society as they knew it.

He wished he could say with confidence that the Garrison was well equipped enough to chase away the Galra, but he knew that wasn't true. They had the particle barrier, the fusion cannon, and the MFEs- but they had never managed to get the Atlas up and running, and the MFEs could only go so far before they ran out of charge.

He knew what he said to Keith, but without Voltron, he didn't know how much of a chance they had. But it was still better than nothing- if Sam hadn't arrived when he did, they would have been taken completely off guard by the invasion, and he couldn't imagine how much worse off they would be as a result.

He might be dead, for one thing. He shuddered at the thought.

Limping over to the window, he peered out, staring at the wreckage of what used to be his fighter. It was barely recognizable as such now, mostly just a pile of twisted metal at this point. He was lucky he had survived the crash, and even luckier that Keith had pulled him out of there. If he hadn't, he would have never made it.

Noticing his movement, Keith looked back. He chewed on his lip for a second, as if he were trying to decide what to say, and in the end, seemed to decide to go for the default. "You okay?"

"I've been better," Adam admitted, "-but I'm not in there, at least."

Keith grunted in acknowledgment, pulling the last of the water jugs off the counter and setting it on the floor, securing the cap. "We should probably take advantage of the running water as long as we have it. I'm going to shower."

"If this was a horror movie, that's a decision that would get you killed." Adam quipped.

"Good thing this isn't a horror movie." Keith observed- and for the life of him, he couldn't tell if that was a joke or not. Kid was pretty hard to read.

Keith ducked into the bathroom, before pausing, hovering at the door and looking back at him. "I... probably nothing I have would fit you, but there are some of my dad's old clothes around here somewhere, so if you want...?"

Glancing down at his own clothes, Adam frowned. Wearing a dead man's clothes sounded kind of weird, but he wasn't sure a tank top was really the best choice for dealing with desert nights. They could get pretty cold. "A jacket might be nice?"

Keith hummed, sliding out a box from under the couch, cracking it open. Shuffling through it for a few moments, he retrieved a beige jacket. He didn't miss the way he hesitated, fingers brushing over the material, before he shut the box, shoving it back under the couch.

"Here," holding out the jacket to him, Keith avoided looking him in the eye, "-this should be fine, right?"

Adam almost felt guilty about taking it from him- it was clearly important to him. But Keith was the one who had offered, so he accepted it. "Thanks."

Nodding his head, Keith disappeared into the bathroom for real this time, shutting the door behind him. He wasn't in there for very long- probably just long enough to get the smell of smoke out of his hair. It was still damp when he came back out, red jacket tied around his waist, just underneath his belt.

He paused, taking in the sight of him in his father's jacket. "I'd offer you a shower, but..."

Adam grimaced, placing a hand lightly over his right knee. He'd propped it up on the makeshift table, having adjusted the sole dusty pillow on the couch to make himself a bit more comfortable. Keith had brought him so painkillers from town, and they helped, just not as much as they could.

"I'll figure something out." Adam told him. "Don't worry about me. You've already been a huge help."

Kid had saved his life. He pretty much owed him one.

"So," Keith frowned, obviously searching for something to talk about, "...do you think they're really going to come?"

It wasn't hard to guess who he meant. "Voltron?"

Pulling out the only other chair in the shack, Keith sat backwards in it, resting his arms on the back. His stare was intense, almost unnaturally so- suddenly, he could sort of understand what James had meant the one time he'd admitted that he was sort of creeped out by him.

It was apparently why they had never got along. But Adam was an adult, not a child- so he took Keith's unblinking stare in stride.

"Voltron," Keith mouthed, as if he were testing the sound of it, "-yeah, them."

That was a loaded question. He didn't think Keith knew just how loaded it was- he had no way of knowing his connection to Takashi. The fact that he was the black paladin wasn't even public information- even after the leak, that part had been kept under wraps. It wasn't exactly like Sam had been trying to keep it a secret, it was just that he didn't have any actual proof to back up that claim.

Takashi hadn't left a video message for anyone. Not even him.

He didn't know what to think about that. Some part of him felt like he deserved it. They'd left things on a pretty bad note.

But Keith was still waiting for an answer.

"I... I think so." Adam said after a moment. "Earth is their home. I don't think they'll abandon us."

Even if he knew that their whereabouts were actually unknown. According to the transmission from Sam's son, the paladins of Voltron had all disappeared. No one knew where they had gone, or even what had happened to them.

But he wanted to believe. He'd just found out that Takashi was alive not so long ago. Whatever his feelings on the matter, he didn't want to believe that he could just die like that, not after it turned out he was actually alive.

Besides, if he didn't come back, how could he ever tell him that he'd told him so?

Look, he had the right to it. Takashi had gone to Kerberos, just like he had told him not to, and he'd ended up getting abducted by aliens. He had been one hundred percent right, just not for the reasons he'd thought.

Keith just hummed- and finally blinked, Adam dimly noted. For a second, he thought he was going to lapse back into silence again, but instead he chose to speak. "Hunk Garrett is the son of my boss."

Huh. He hadn't actually made that link yet, but he guessed it was true.

"Did you see him?" Adam asked. "Your boss?"

Keith rested his head on his arms, brows furrowing. "He said he was going to California. He wanted to find his daughter."

"Risky," Adam observed, "-but I can understand why."

"Yeah," Keith agreed, "-me too."

This time they lapsed into silence for real. He wondered what Keith was thinking about. He didn't exactly have any family to worry about.

He thought about his own parents. His mother had been initially resistant to his father's idea of spending their retirement out by the remote lakeside, tucked away in the country, not wanting to leave the convenience of the city behind. But reflecting on it now, odds were, that decision had probably saved their lives.

At least in the initial assault.

He didn't want to think about how many lives had been lost. He just knew that it was too many.

Absently rubbing his knee, Adam stared at his leg. If it hadn't been for Keith, he'd be one of them.

Looking up at Keith, he wondered if he was at all scared. He seemed so calm. But he was also only nineteen. He had to be at least a little terrified.

Lifting his head, Keith caught his gaze with a slight frown. "What?"

"Nothing," Adam told him, "-just thinking."

Keith hummed again, closing his eyes. "Try not to think too much."

He laughed, just a bit at that. It sounded an awful lot like he was trying to give him advice. Like he wasn't the adult in this scenario.

But then... he guessed when it came to world shattering events, Keith had one up on him. He didn't know the first thing about his family, but he knew that he was an orphan. Going through something like that... it probably put certain things into perspective.

He wondered how young he'd been.

"I'll keep that in mind."

They ended up sleeping in shifts.

He'd wanted to protest the idea, but doing so would force him to say why, and he'd rather Adam didn't know about his freakish sleep patterns just yet. So instead, he spent the time he was supposed to be sleeping doing well... anything else, really. If he kept himself to the bunker, Adam wouldn't have to know.

It wasn't like he was skipping sleep. It was just that he could survive off way less than most people could. Yet another weird fact on a lengthy checklist of weird facts.

It was probably for the best. He was too anxious to sleep that first night anyways. He didn't think the Galra would pay his shack any attention for awhile, but he couldn't be sure. And it was that uncertainty that prevented him from feeling completely safe.

But that was also a feeling he was accustomed to, just one that he hadn't felt in a long time. When he had been living in foster care, or in orphanages... there had always been that layer of uncertainty. The foster home where he hadn't been allowed to lock his door had been the worst- even with his unusual sleep patterns, he had still ended up sleep deprived.

Out here in the desert, he didn't have to worry about any of that. At least, not until now.

With a huff, Keith leaned back against the wall, drawing his knife. He hadn't exactly forgotten the strange way it had reacted just before the first ships showed up, but he just hadn't had the time to think about it until now. He had always known that there was something special about the knife- he just didn't know what.

Glancing up towards the trap door, he bit down on his lip. He had a few hours before Adam came to switch with him, so it would probably be fine.

Fixing his attention back on his knife, he carefully unwound the bandages from around its hilt. He had never seen his dad without the knife, but he'd also never seen it without its wrappings. At least, not until his dad died, and he'd let curiosity get the better of him.

He didn't exactly expect a glowing stone.

Or to be more exact, it was the sigil- or maybe the rune, the mark, whatever it was- that was carved into the stone that glowed. Tracing it with his finger, he frowned. It had always felt warm to the touch, unlike the rest of the knife, which didn't seem to react to temperature the same way any other metal he had worked with did. Even during the hottest days, it stayed cool to the touch.

Metal also didn't usually reflect the same way his knife did, and it definitely couldn't slice through the material the Garrison used for their cockpits. He'd never had to do any kind of maintenance on it either- whatever it was made of, it stayed sharp.

Turning the knife over in his hands, Keith frowned. He knew he should probably turn the lantern off, save the battery, but part of him was too paranoid to. What if Adam thought it was weird that he could see in the dark? If they were going to be stuck together until his leg healed, the last thing he wanted to do was to sour things between them.

He didn't exactly expect them to become friends, but at the very least, he'd like for them to get along. Or at the very least, to not hate each other.

Catching the light of the lantern, his eyes glinted, reflected back at him on the knife. His frown deepened, one hand straying upwards, tugging at the corner of one of his eyes. He didn't know why they did that either, they just always had. He hadn't even known they weren't supposed to until his first bunkmates had freaked out about it so badly.

Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh. Maybe he was actually some top secret government experiment his dad had run away with or something. He didn't exactly talk a lot about his past, and as far as he knew, he didn't have any other family.

Or maybe he was an alien, since those were apparently real.

Letting out a snort, Keith opened his eyes. Either option sounded better than just being some inexplicable freak of nature. But at least whatever the source of his weirdness was, he'd be able to put it to good use.

Tying the bandages back around his knife, he sheathed it back in its hilt.

Tomorrow, they'd need to figure out a routine, plan their next step. Tonight... tonight maybe he should try and get some rest, even if he wasn't actually tired. There was no telling when his next chance would be.

Switching off the lantern, Keith laid down against the bedroll, curling up on his side. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about the uncertainty of tomorrow. Of surviving. Here, in this moment, he was safe- and he clung to that feeling of safety for all it was worth.

For the first time in ages, he wished his dad were here. He'd probably be able to tell him what to do. He always knew. He smiled at the thought, recalling how much he had looked up to him growing up- like he could do anything.

Except come back from that fire, he guessed.

He had done what was right. He had never stopped being proud of that, no matter how much he missed him.

He just wished he were capable of doing the same.

"We should try to contact the Garrison."

Adam glanced up at Keith with a slight frown. The night had passed without event, though he couldn't say he had exactly gotten much sleep. If it wasn't his leg, it was the omnipresent threat of aliens. Thankfully, Keith had coffee, and a battery operated coffee machine to make it with, even if it was way too strong for his tastes.

Guess he was right about this place not having electricity. Not that it would make much difference now.

"I thought you said you couldn't." Adam said.

"Not using my bike, no." Keith told him. "But my dad left some radio equipment behind. Maybe we could use that."

As if to illustrate, Keith set down his mug. Walking over to one of the far corners of the shack, he grabbed a ream of cloth, tugging it away from what it had been concealing. Letting it fall to the floor, Keith stepped back, showing him the equipment in question.

Adam's jaw nearly dropped.

"Keith," he began slowly, "-do you know what that is?"

Keith just frowned. "A radio?"

Okay, fair enough. It was that. It didn't actually surprise him that much that Keith didn't recognize what it was that he had on his hands- this wasn't exactly something you would expect to find in the hands of a civilian. He only recognized it because of all the time he'd spent in the Garrison's communications room, waiting to see if they ever actually heard back from Voltron.

Usually, it had just been him and the communications officer. But sometimes Sam's wife and Cadet McClain's sister would come by- occasionally even Sam himself, when he could spare a moment, which wasn't often.

"It's a deep space radio." Adam told him. "It's capable of picking up on frequencies from far beyond our planet."

Keith stared at him in disbelief. He couldn't exactly blame him.

"Are you sure this was your father's?" Adam asked. "The Garrison could have-"

"No." Keith said quickly. "I don't think the Garrison's touched this place since they bought the land."

Okay then. Guess Keith'd know best. It still didn't explain what a civilian was doing with this kind of technology- assuming Keith's father was a civilian.

"He didn't work for the Garrison, did he?" Adam ventured.

"He was a firefighter." Keith told him.

Guess not then. Adam frowned, studying the radio. A lot of it looked as if it was a custom build, so whoever Keith's father was, he had to have been pretty good with his hands. That still didn't explain why he wanted to monitor deep space frequencies- it was a bit dated, but with a radio like this, you could probably hear all the way out past Kerberos.

A hobby? People had been chasing the existence of aliens for years. It might explain why he had chosen to live out on such a remote patch of land.

"So... can we use it?" Keith asked, sounding hesitant, like he regretted even bringing it up.

"We could," Adam frowned, "-but it's not really built for short range transmissions. The odds that the Galra might pick up on the transmission are pretty high."

"Oh," Keith frowned, face falling, "-sorry. Thought it would work."

Geez. It felt like he'd kicked a puppy, not pointed out the inherent flaw in Keith's idea.

"Still, it might actually prove useful." Adam told him. "We might be able to listen in on the Galra with this."

"Wouldn't they know?" Keith asked.

"As long as we don't transmit anything, it should be fine." Adam said. "Provided we can get it working. You say this thing has been here since you used to live here?"

Nodding his head, Keith brushed a bit of dust off of the old radio to emphasize.

"Right. Guess we have our work cut out for us then." Adam said.

"I could probably fix it." Keith told him. "I don't exactly have any experience with deep space radios, but I know how to fix car radios."

He wanted to say that car radios and deep space radios were two very different things, but it was still more experience than he had. The worst that could come of it was that it just wouldn't work.

"Can't hurt." Adam said.

If they could get it up and running, it meant that they would be able to keep tabs on what it was that the Galra were up to. If they could learn their patrol patterns...

...well, he didn't know what they would do with that information, not exactly. But it might come in handy.

Tilting his head, Keith absently turned one of the knobs, before nodding his head. His coffee abandoned, he set to work right away. Adam couldn't help but smile- something about the laser focus that he applied to tinkering with the radio reminded him of Takashi. He could get like that too.

Thinking about Takashi stung. He wanted to believe that he was alive- and that he, and Voltron, would come, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to put his complete faith in that. He knew that Takashi would do whatever he could to get back Earth, especially if he knew they were in danger, but there was no telling what might have happened to him.

But unless Sam got the Atlas to work, Voltron was the best chance they had.

That was a sobering thought. It didn't mean they'd go down easy, but he'd seen the overwhelming difference between them and the Galra himself. Pilots, capable pilots, ones he'd known for years had gone down in an instant, barely able to even put up a fight.

Sensing that the repair work would take time, Adam downed the last of his coffee. Setting down his mug, he hauled himself to his feet, limping towards the window. Pulling back the curtains, he peered out, an involuntary shudder running down his spine at the sight of the remains of his fighter.

He was lucky to be alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith briefly lifted his head. For a second, it looked like he was going to say something- before he ducked his head, under the pretense of returning to work.

It just felt like he hadn't been able to think of anything to say.

Even if Voltron came, even if they repelled the Galra... it didn't do anything for the lives that were already lost.

But what they could do was fight back. Struggle. Survive. Maybe they didn't have the firepower to match up to the Galra, but they had spirit- and they weren't about to just curl up and admit defeat. Not by a long shot. The human spirit was a tenacious one- they would survive, endure.

As long as they didn't give up, a path to victory would surely present itself.

"I think I got it."

He knew how uncertain he sounded. He'd quickly realized just how different this radio was from the ones he'd worked on in the past, but after a bit of tinkering, he had more or less figured out what needed to be done. Working on it had brought back memories- ones of his dad, coming out here to the shack when he had free time.

He had always been tinkering with the radio. At the time, he'd been too young to understand it, or even care about it- it didn't do anything fun, so it had never interested him. But reflecting back on it, he recalled the somber look on his father's face as he listened.

He wondered what he'd been hoping to hear.

But he pushed back such thoughts, instead focusing on the task at hand. Adam was right- if they could pick up on the Galra's signal, it would be a huge help.

"Great job, Keith." Adam told him, the earnest praise giving him pause. "Let's give it a test."

Nodding, Keith tweaked the radio. For a long second, there was nothing but static. He frowned- either he hadn't gotten it working at all, or the Galra were using frequencies that it couldn't pick up on.

There was a loud crackle of static, forcing him to clamp his hands over his ears. Too little, too late- his ears were still ringing when the transmission finally came through, only just barely able to catch the last part of it.

"-status report."

He froze, eyes darting towards Adam. The pilot's eyes were narrowed, but he caught his gaze, giving him a firm nod of his head.

This had to be one of the Galra.

"All targets have been completely neutralized, Commander."

Neutralized. Keith felt his stomach drop. For a second, all he could think about was the orphanage, and the stench of blood that clung to it.

"Good," the voice that replied was cold, like ice, "-begin preparations for the next phase of the invasion."

"The next phase...?" Adam muttered.

"Soldiers," Keith mumbled, "-he has to mean soldiers. Ground forces."

Whoever this Commander was, somehow Keith didn't doubt that he was the one in charge. He burned his voice into his memory, and along with it, the scent of blood and smoke.

This was his doing.

There wasn't any more to the transmission after that. Just static. But he guessed that if these Galra were as good as they were supposed to be at conquering planets, they didn't exactly need a step by step guide of how to do it.

"I guess just blowing everything to hell wasn't enough for them." Adam remarked.

"Guess not." Keith frowned. "What should we do?"

"Stay put." Adam told him. "There's not much else we can do."

Gritting his teeth, Keith nodded. He hated to admit it, but Adam was right. There were only two of them, and one of them wasn't anywhere near fighting capacity. Not to mention the fact that they knew nothing about the invasion methods that the Galra used- they just didn't know enough.

"Frustrated?" Adam asked.

Keith narrowed his eyes. "It just feels like there's something I could be doing. Something more."

"I know the feeling." Adam said. "At least you've got two good legs."

Hm. Good point.

"We should probably check on your leg." Keith said. "Make sure it's not turning any weird colors."

"Probably." Adam admitted. "But before that, I think you should probably consider getting something to eat."

He blinked. Now that he mentioned it, he hadn't had anything to eat since he'd started working on the radio, and though that didn't feel like all that long ago, judging by the shadows, it was probably already late in the afternoon.

He hadn't even finished his coffee. That... probably explained a few things.

"Solid idea." Keith noted. "Have you...?"

"Helped myself to some granola bars." Adam replied. "Not to mention an off brand Pop-tart. Although... really? Pop-tarts?"

Keith frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Adam said, "-just... I don't exactly peg you as the type for liking sweet stuff."

Yeah, he got that a lot. Grabbing the box of granola bars that Adam had already opened, he pulled one out, grabbing his chair as he unwrapped it. They would have to figure out exactly how to ration their food- he could probably hunt between patrols, but that would only last them for so long. There was no telling what the Galra invasion would do to the local wildlife.

He had just barely finished the granola bar when they heard the sound of engines overhead. Freezing, they both held their breath until it passed, slowly letting themselves exhale.

"Sounded like it was headed towards Plaht City." Adam observed.

Nodding his head, Keith twitched the back window curtains open. He could just faintly make out the dull gray fighter disappearing in that direction. Guess the one he saw yesterday must have been a scout.

Made sense. If they were going to start invading, they'd need to know exactly where all the largest population centers were. He doubted that the bombardment had spared any corner of the Earth mercy, but there were enough cities out there that he doubted the Galra had bombed all of them into oblivion.

"So... what do you think they'll do?" Keith asked.

"I don't know." Adam admitted. "I wish I did."

Leaning back in his chair, Keith blew out a breath. That wasn't exactly a satisfactory answer.

A thought occurred to him. "Do you think it's because of Voltron?"

"The invasion?" Adam asked, considering it. "I'm not sure. It could be."

Tucking one of his feet up onto the chair, Keith frowned. Maybe the Galra thought they could lure Voltron into a trap if they attacked Earth. Most of the paladins were human, right?

He thought about Tsuyoshi's son. About Colleen's daughter. Veronica's brother. Three cadets, for three lions.

He wondered who flew the other two.

Takashi Shirogane? Matt Holt? They were both unaccounted for. But if Sam Holt was alive, then they probably both had to be as well.

Or maybe it was just some aliens. They didn't have to be all human. It actually made more sense to him that they weren't. He didn't know about the other two, but he knew Tsuyoshi's son wasn't a pilot- he was an engineer. Probably a good one, if his father was anything to go by, but still not a pilot.

He'd wanted to be a pilot, once. Part of him still did.

"Do you know anything about them?" Keith asked. "The paladins, I mean."

"Probably not much more than you do." Adam stated. "Sam told me his daughter flies the green lion."

Daughter. Guess Matt Holt wasn't a paladin, then.

"What about the others?" Keith asked.

"Your boss is Tsuyoshi Garrett, right?" Adam asked, and Keith had to right the urge to add ex-boss in front of that. It wasn't exactly like anyone had a job anymore. "I think his son is the yellow paladin."

"The last of the missing cadets, Lance McClain, he flies the blue lion." Adam told him. "I think the red lion is flown by some kind of alien princess."

Alien princess. Sure, why not. They were already talking about flying robot lions here.

"What about the black lion?" Keith asked. "Does an alien fly the black lion too?"

Adam shook his head, his expression taking a turn for the rueful. At least... Keith thought it did. Again, he wasn't exactly the best at discerning facial expressions.

"No," he said, "-the black lion... its paladin is Takashi Shirogane."

The name was spoken with such familiarity, that Keith didn't even have to ask if they had been close. He just knew.

Huh. It was kind of funny- except for the red paladin, he had a connection to each of them. He supposed in the case of the blue paladin, that connection was pretty weak- he'd only met Veronica one other time aside from that time at the coffee shop, and only briefly at that, but it still counted.

He didn't know what to make of that information. Or even if he should make anything of it. Odds were, it was probably just coincidence.

Or maybe it was just the universe's own way of taunting him. Reminding him that no matter how close he got to it, that he was never destined for anything great.

And in spite of what his father had always told him, he knew that was true.