This chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but it's late and I'm tired so here you go. Hope y'all like it.

Thanks for sticking with this story so far! I'm honored you would take the time to read it. :)

Aftermath

When Keith awoke, it hit him like a swing from the gladiator's broadsword. In other words, stabbing pain in his head and side. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't respond. Even his vision was fuzzy. The soft white lights mixed with Altean turquoise don't give him any clue where he might be - the light in the castle was the same throughout. He was lying on something soft, but it wasn't his bed; that much he could tell, at least. He became aware of a movement to his left, and something chestnut and orange swam into view.

"Hope?" He murmured. His mouth felt like cotton.

"Close." Said a voice, sending a fresh spear of pain into Keith's head. He blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. Pidge's turned-up nose and lightly-freckled complexion greeted him from beneath her bushy nest of feathery hair. She was perched on a folding chair beside the bed with her laptop on her knees and she had one of the castle's hideous orange blankets draped around her shoulders like a queen's robe, which explained why he'd initially mistaken her for Hope.

"Hey there, dumbass. Way to crash the party."

Yup. Definitely Pidge.

"S'okay, actually." She went on before his sluggish brain could form an answer. "Wasn't much of a party anyway. I probably would be glad that you got us out of there if it wasn't because you lied about being fine." She set her laptop down on the floor and leaned closer to him, her honey-brown eyes glistening slightly. "What convinced you that was a good idea?"

Keith winced at the shrillness of her voice, which was like being stabbed in the head over and over. Some of that must have shown on his face, because she suddenly looked sheepish and lowered her voice.

"Sorry. You're still waking up. How are you?"

"Just dandy." Said Keith thickly. "Aside from a splitting headache, that is."

Pidge frowned and wrinkled her nose. "That shouldn't be the case. We loaded you up with so many painkillers, it's a wonder you're not on a massive trip by now."

"Well, maybe you want to check the dosage." Keith said, groaning as he tried to sit up but only succeeded in making his stomach churn. He looked around the medbay, which was deserted and dark except for the background turquoise nightlights, the light above Keith's cot, and Pidge's laptop. "Where is everyone?"

"Asleep." Said Pidge. "It's like, 2AM right now. We actually had to push Shiro out the door so he could get some rest. He was literally falling asleep on his feet."

"So you're here to keep an eye on me?"

"And to chew you out for being so stupid since Hope is physically incapable of doing so herself. At least not in a way that'll make it through that thick skull of yours! Anyway, she should be here any minute. I paged her and Coran as soon as you started coming around."

Keith grunted, but said nothing. His mind was still in a fog. What did he remember last? Something about the weird bite on his side and feeling strange, then zoning out during Kolivan's speech. It was all hazy after that.

"Anyway," Pidge continued, seemingly undeterred by his silence, "what made you think hiding that bite was a good idea? Do you have any idea how much anxiety you've caused us?!"

Keith winced again, though it wasn't because of her voice. Her words had cut deep into his core, dealing a blow that, in that moment, hurt worse than his head or his side.

This is why I didn't tell them. I didn't want to worry them. I didn't want to cause trouble for anyone. But I ended up making it worse and causing even more trouble. They're all mad at me, I know it. I ruined the dinner party and probably the alliance with Vosanus as well. All I do is ruin things.

Pidge seemed to realize what she had said, and how it must have come across and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my gosh, Keith, I'm – I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about how that might sound to you and –"

"It's okay, Pidge." Keith said, managing a weak smile. "It was my fault. I was stupid and didn't tell anyone. I just didn't want to cause you all any trouble."

"Cause trouble?" Pidge repeated, her jaw going slack. "Keith! Why would you think telling us about a bug bite would cause trouble?"

Keith didn't meet her gaze. If he'd been standing, he would have been looking at the floor. Instead, he focused on a scratch on the corner of the cot a little ways behind Pidge's chair. It was better than meeting her sharp glare.

"I didn't think…" He trailed off as his voice hitched. Swallowing, he tried again. "It wasn't so bad at first. I thought it would go away. No need to bother anyone about it."

"But then it got bigger?" Pidge asked.

Keith nodded, then instantly regretted it.

"And so you decided to keep quiet, is that it? Didn't want to bother anyone?"

"Yeah. And…"

"And what?" Pidge prompted, sounding concerned at the way his voice had dropped off. If he'd been able, Keith would have turned tail and run by now. His mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding in time with his skull. Could he really admit the real reason he hadn't wanted to tell anyone? Sure, what he'd already said was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. His face burned with guilt and he wanted something to knock him out again until this entire matter was over.

Fortunately, he was spared from answering Pidge's question by the timely arrival of Coran and Hope, who more or less burst into the room. Coran was wearing his typical Altean suit (seriously, did the man ever sleep? Maybe they should shift their focus from Shiro to Coran), but the coat was unbuttoned, and he was barefoot, which would have been comical in any other setting. Hope wore an Olkarian poncho over baggy sweatpants with worn-out knees and the red lion-shaped slippers that had come with every paladin's pajama set. She'd stolen them after discovering that Keith never wore them.

As Pidge had mentioned, they both had evidently been sleeping. Hope's hair was still in its nighttime braid and Coran's moustache was bushy and unkempt, resembling a lopsided, fuzzy, orange caterpillar stuck on his lip.

"How is he, Number Five?" He asked as he and Hope approached the bed.

Pidge rose and picked up the chair and her laptop. "Ask him yourself." She said simply, casting a frown in Keith's direction before moving out of the way to let Hope by. The other girl approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Coran hovered nearby, no doubt checking whatever medical scanners they had set up.

"How are you feeling, Keith?" Hope asked, her earnest, open face peering into his own.

Keith grunted in response.

Hope smiled, though it was more like a grimace. "That bad, huh?"

"He mentioned something about the painkillers." Said Pidge from over by one of the other cots. "Something about upping the dosage?"

Hope frowned. "Keith, are you in pain?"

"…Yeah." There was too much excitement all at once, too many concerned faces. His body wasn't responding the way it should have – he couldn't even lift his head without feeling like he was being stabbed, and Pidge's questions still had him on edge.

Hope's face melted into a different kind of pain. She turned to Coran.

"What's the status on that painkiller we gave him? Should it be wearing off at this time?'

"Not according to the label." Said Coran, frowning at the scanner in his hand. "Of course there could be some lost potency given the age of the medicine…hang on, just give me a tick…" He trailed off into indecipherable muttering.

"While Coran's working on that, let's see if we can't make you more comfortable." Said Hope, fussing with the edge of the blanket covering him. "Are you thirsty? Nauseous? Too hot or cold?"

"I think I'm okay." Keith whispered.

Hope brightened. "Well, there's some good news."

Her forced cheer wasn't working. If anything, it only served to heighten Keith's distress even more. He hiccupped, causing a spasm of pain to shoot through his side.

Hope must have mistaken the distress for frustration, because she patted his shoulder gently. "I know it's uncomfortable, but you need to stay still until we make sure you're in the clear."

"What happened to me, anyway?"

Hope sighed and shifted a little on the bed, twisting her hands in her lap. "Well, to put it mildly, you got stung by some bug-creature from Angalea, and the venom was something similar to a bite from a brown recluse spider back on Earth. Except this stuff is incredibly slow-acting. You didn't start exhibiting severe symptoms until the venom had nearly compromised your immune system."

"So you're saying I got bitten by an alien equivalent of a venomous spider? Brilliant."

"Not bitten, stung." Coran corrected. "The stinger was stuck in your skin for the next several quintants, spreading its venom into your system. But don't worry! It's out now, and you've been dosed up with an assortment of antitoxins, so your body should be fully healed in a quintants or two!"

Keith shuddered to think there had been a stinger stuck in his side for that long. How had he not noticed it before?

Hope seemed to guess what he was thinking. "It was such a tiny thing, no bigger than, say, a mosquito, so it would have been invisible to the eye." She sighed again and shifted restlessly. "But that's all beside the point." She lay a hand on his shoulder again. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Pidge cleared her throat before Keith could answer. "I already chewed him out for that. He said he didn't want to burden anyone."

Hope looked back at Keith, her brow creasing with concern. "Is she right?"

"Yeah." Said Keith, and he was once again spared having to elaborate by Coran, who appeared at the right side of his bed holding a syringe.

"Alright, Number Four!" He said in that obnoxiously chipper voice. "Let's sit you up a bit so I can give you some more meds. Can't have you incapacitated by a mere headache, now can we?"

Keith could only manage a mumbled reply as the back of the bed was slowly raised so he was lying in a half-reclined position. At least now he could see everything without having to strain his neck or eyes.

"Did you figure out what the problem was?" Hope asked. "Why he's still feeling pain?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." Said Coran, twirling the syringe in one hand like a teenage garage band member with a drumstick. "This kind is tricky. We're out of the liquid stuff, which is much easier to get right. I didn't account for Keith's Galra genes. Those buggers certainly make things complicated, don't they?"

It was hard for Keith to keep his face straight. His bottom lip trembled, and he fought to keep it still, focusing on the stiff, but warm sheets beneath him, the organic weave of the poncho Hope was wearing, the soft Altean lighting – anything but the cold, hard knot sinking its way into his stomach. He blinked as his vision grew blurry.

I was right. My Galra heritage is nothing but a burden on everyone else. Nothing but trouble. Why am I even here, anyway? It's not like I did a good job as the Black Paladin. Now that Shiro's back, there's no reason for me to be here anymore. I'm just excess weight.

He felt the bed shift as Hope stiffened, drawing her lips together in a tight line not unlike Allura whenever the situation had just gotten worse.

"Coran," she said in a flat, tight voice, "let's just focus on getting Keith comfortable. He's still in a lot of pain and the sooner we get that medicine in him, the better."

"Of course, my dear girl." Said Coran fondly, a shadow of understanding passing over his face as he realized how his words had come across. "Apologies, Number Four. I meant no harm, truly."

As Coran prepped his right arm for the shot, where Keith noticed a bandage had already been affixed, Hope took hold of his other hand, almost unconsciously, and began rubbing her thumb across his knuckles.

"Keith, you do realize we'll never think of your Galra genes as an inconvenience. And there's no reason not to come to one of us when you need help." She paused when he didn't react. "You know that, right?"

Keith nodded wordlessly, but the tears were already slipping down his cheeks.