They camped within the Garrison's perimeter that night. Well, technically they made camp at noon, and then all promptly crashed. They didn't even bother with watch, they were all so exhausted. For once, neither Keith or Shiro dreamed.

They all awoke at some point in the night, when the moon was directly above their heads. Most of them were still tired, but they were also hungry and cold, so they reluctantly built a campfire and made dinner.

It was quiet, all of them too tired to carry on a conversation. That is, until Pidge spoke up.

"Hey, Keith?" Her voice was soft, and she had her chin resting on her drawn up knees as she stared unseeing into the campfire.

"Yeah?"

"You… you said you knew what is was like to be a prisoner of the Galra." Keith's skin prickled as everyone's eyes turned to him, including Pidge's. "What are they gonna do to my brother?"

Keith's expression was pained. It was so tempting just to say 'You don't want to know' and leave it at that, not have to deal with the pain that came with the remembering. But Pidge deserved more than that. Pidge deserved the truth.

"Pidge…" Shiro began, about to tell her no, until Keith cut him off.

"It's ok, Shiro. We should tell them."

Shiro turned and gave him a surprised look, but Keith kept his eyes on the toes of his boots.

"If we're going to be doing this," he continued, "Going after the Galra, they deserve to know why." He shrugged stiffly. "There's no point in avoiding it any more."

"Are you sure?" his brother asked in a gentle voice, and Keith nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah just… do you mind telling them alone? I should do a perimeter check."

"I don't mind. Go ahead."

Pidge felt a little guilty, watching Keith get to his feet and grab his bat. She knew it was a bad topic, she knew both of them were still screwed up because of whatever had happened to them, but she couldn't stand not knowing. She wanted to know what she was up against, wanted to know the chances of Matt still being alive. She wanted reality, not false hope.

Shiro waited, saying nothing until Keith was safely out of earshot. Then he turned back towards the fire with a sigh. Hunk looked a little nervous, clearly not jazzed about hearing how bad the Galra were. Lance was cleaning his rifle again, trying not to look too interested, but his eyes were gleaming.

"The first thing you should know about the Galra is that they're ruthless." Shiro began. Every muscle in his body was coiled like a spring, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might break. His eyes were haunted, but he didn't stop speaking.

"They're ruthless and bloodthirsty. They like the world how it is now, completely destroyed, where the strong prey on the weak. Because they're the strong ones, and they get off on cruelty."

Pidge bit into her lip, cold coiling into her gut. Lance's rag had stopped moving, his attention now completely fixed on Shiro.

"It was maybe three months after the outbreak when Keith and I wandered into their territory. We didn't know it was theirs, we were just trying to survive. But of course they didn't see it that way when they stumbled across us, and they took us prisoner.

"They have a lot of people in their ranks, spread all over the desert in these big camps. And obviously, they get bored. So for entertainment, they have a kind of… I guess you could call it an arena."

"An arena?" Pidge raised an eyebrow, interrupting for the first time. Shiro nodded gravely.

"Like a… a gladiator arena, I guess."

"Oh."

"They would pit prisoners against each other. It was either kill, or be killed. And when they threw me and Keith in…" he shrugged a little helplessly, looking down at the dirt. "We did what we had to do to stay alive."

"You fought." This time it was Lance who spoke, all pretense of not listening gone. Shiro nodded again.

"We fought. They had us fighting separately, so after the first night, we didn't see each other for weeks. But we did well. Really well. Eventually we ended up with nicknames. They called me the Champion, and they called Keith the Red Lion." he paused and shivered, and Pidge had to resist the urge to hug him before he was done.

"One night their leader was going to visit the camp we were at. A guy named Zarkon."

"That's a weird name." Hunk said without thinking, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Shiro gave a rueful smile.

"When they join, they pick new names for themselves. They all sound like that." The smile slid off of his face. "They wanted to impress their leader, put on a good show. And they figured, what could be better than putting their two best fighters against each other."

"You and Keith." Pidge's voice was a whisper, but Shiro heard.

"Me and Keith. They gave us both a weapon and stuck us in the ring, just like every time before that. But when we saw who we were supposed to be fighting, we both refused. No matter what they did or what they threatened us with, we wouldn't fight each other." His lip quirked, almost into a proud smirk.

"Man, Zarkon must have been pissed." said Hunk, scootching a little closer to the fire.

"Yeah, he was." Shiro rubbed his eyes, looking tired, but he didn't stop the story. "He handed us off to his second in command, Lotor. To be punished."

The other three simultaneously shivered, and Pidge edged closer to the flames, fear leaking down her spine like ice water.

"How long?" she heard herself ask.

"I honestly don't know." Shiro answered, shaking his head. "I have no idea how long we were there for. It felt like forever."

"What did he…" That question came from Lance, who was looking and feeling a little green. Shiro responded without looking at him.

"With me, it was physical. Broken bones, hot knives, that sort of thing." He didn't seem to notice when Pidge flinched or Hunk looked away with a hand over his mouth. "But he didn't do that with Keith. He messed with his head instead. That's what the whole song deal was about. Sometimes Lotor would blindfold him, tie him up somewhere, and play that song on repeat while he beat me and made Keith listen."

Shiro's shoulders shook, and he folded in on himself a little. He was pale, and tired, and clearly didn't want to talk about this anymore. But he pushed himself for the last sentence.

"Eventually, we made it out."

There was a long, long pause. Pidge stared into the fire, willing the tears not to spill. That hadn't helped her fears about Matt, not in the least, but she had asked. Hunk still had a hand over his mouth, breathing deeply, trying not to vomit. And Lance…

"Jesus fucking Christ." Lance murmured, staring desolately off in the direction Keith had left in. "I am such a dick." Before any of the others could say anything, he was scrambling to his feet and heading off into the darkness.


It took him a few minutes of stumbling around in the dark, but eventually he found Keith sitting cross legged on a large rock, spinning his dagger in his hands. His head rose at the sound of footsteps, eyes widening when he recognized who it was.

"Lance?"

"H-hey." He had stopped a few feet away, and now just stood there awkwardly. When he left he hadn't thought about what he was going to say to Keith, he only knew that he had to say something.

"I'm sorry." he blurted out, and then scrambled to elaborate when Keith's eyes widened. "I mean, for how I've been acting, and for pushing you about the song, and accusing you of attacking Pidge, and all of that. I'm sorry."

Keith's mouth twisted. He was expressing some kind of emotion, but Lance couldn't decipher it. "It's o-"

"Don't say it's ok!" Lance exclaimed, taking a step forward. Keith automatically leaned back, knife coming up, and Lance stopped with a stricken look.

"I just…" he started, and then trailed off. "It's not ok, so don't say it is. I know it's not."

Keith slowly lowered his knife, and if it hadn't been so dark, Lance might've been able to see him shaking.

"You didn't know." Keith mumbled, looking away and silently berating himself for raising his weapon at Lance.

"That's not an excuse."

Keith huffed and shot Lance an annoyed look through his bangs. "Do you wanna be forgiven or are you hellbent on being difficult?"

"You don't have to forgive me." Lance said, allowing himself to sit down near Keith. "I don't really deserve it."

"That's up to me to decide, not you." Keith responded, sheathing his knife. "And I forgive you."

Lance couldn't resist the smile that crept onto his face. "Everything's always a competition, isn't it Mullet?"

"And who's fault is that?" Lance could practically hear the eyeroll that accompanied the teasing statement, and he bumped Keith's knee with his fist. The other boy seemed content to let the conversation stop there, but Lance wasn't.

"I was missing my brother." he admitted quietly, and Keith stilled. "And I was jealous that you still had Shiro. It wasn't fair to you."

"What was his name? Your brother?"

"Javi." His smile turned sad at the memories. "He would be eleven now."

"What was he like?"

"Happy. He was always smiling, except when he couldn't find his stuffed monkey. He loved that thing."

Keith made a little humming noise of understanding. Lance could feel his chest tightening up. He didn't want to think about his brother anymore.

"You mind if I ask you a question?"

There's a pause, as though Keith can tell what he's going to ask, but then he sighs.

"Go ahead."

"Why did they call you that?"

Keith knows what he means. To Lance's surprise, he slides off of his rock to sit next to him. He won't let their eyes meet, but that's ok. He understands.

"Because I was vicious." Keith said, nearly whispering. "They called Shiro the Champion because he was always so calm, and controlled. He never lost. And he always tried to be merciful, even if the Galra wouldn't let him. But I wasn't like that." he pulled his knees to his chest in his typical closed off position.

"I was messy, and vicious, and I took way more hits than I should have. By the end of every fight I was usually covered in blood."

"Theirs or yours?" Lance asked softly. Keith turned his head away.

"Both." He looked down at his knees, at the brown stains on his jeans, and in the dim light of the moon Lance could see him biting his lip. His voice got even softer.

"I tore people apart, Lance. I lost track of how many people I killed in that arena." He made a small choking noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't stop talking.

"You wanna know why I forgave you so easily? Because you're not the one who needs to be forgiven."

Lance didn't know what to say to that. The first thing that popped into his mind was to say that it wasn't his fault, that he hadn't had a choice. But if it had been him, that wouldn't have made him feel better at all.

"Let's head back to the others." he said instead, standing and offering a hand to Keith. "Shiro was looking a little worse for wear when I left."

Keith let Lance help him up, but he felt a pang of guilt for making Shiro relive all of that alone. Lately it seemed as though he couldn't go five minutes without fucking something up.

Lance didn't ask any more questions, and so the walk back to camp was quiet except for the crunch of their boots on the ground. When they arrived, Pidge and Hunk were wrapped tightly in their blankets, laying next to the fire. But their eyes were still open. Pidge stared into the fire, and Hunk at the stars, and neither of them moved when the two boys approached.

Shiro, still sitting by the fire, looked up. A grateful smile appeared when he saw Keith, but that didn't hide his pale skin or the look in his eyes. Keith sat down next to him, tucking his hands into the pockets of his red hoodie while Lance busied himself with going back to bed. He ended up turned away from them, with his back to the fire. As soon as he did, Shiro dropped his head onto Keith's shoulder.

Keith leaned his cheek against Shiro's hair and took a deep breath. Compared to him, Shiro was a walk in the park to comfort. He didn't like being held or reassured. He just wanted to feel someone next to him, to know he wasn't alone while he calmed himself down in his own head. And Keith could give him that, easily. If he could give nothing else, he could give him that.


The next morning came sooner than any of them wanted. But, as most people know, the sun is fairly bright and difficult to ignore. So they all reluctantly awoke and the group began to plan their next move.

"I talked to one of the soldiers at the Garrison yesterday." said Shiro as he spread their map out on the ground in front of them. "He said there's a fairly large Galra camp about twenty miles west of here. If Matt isn't there, they should at least have some information about where he is."

"How are we gonna get in?" Hunk asked, eyeing the map nervously.

"We'll worry about that when we get closer and can see what we're up against." was Shiro's decidedly not reassuring answer.

"Yeah, right, ok, totally." Hunk was clearly not down with this plan, but they didn't really have anything better. So the team packed up their camp and started moving west.

Keith was on the reddest of red alerts, making a slow loop around the group as they pressed forward, constantly keeping an eye out for Galra scouts.

Just keep going, he told himself, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. Keep looking, don't drop your guard. As long as you keep looking, nothing will happen. Everything will be fine.

On his fifth pass, Shiro finally called out to him.

"Keith! Come on, reel it in."

Keith reluctantly returned to the group, feeling his stomach tighten as he did so. If he wasn't up there scouting, the Galra could swoop down on them at any moment, surprise them from any angle. It wasn't safe to travel in a bunch like this, they were going to get caught, they-

"Hey." Lance lightly nudged his side, and Keith snapped back to reality with a flushed face. "You alright there, Mullet?"

"Yeah." Keith murmured in reply, ignoring the look Shiro shot his way. "I'm just worried. About Galra. I should be out there scouting."

"You're not going to do us any good if you wear yourself out." Shiro said and Keith frowned.

"I know. But it would be stupid to go waltzing through Galra territory without keeping our guard up."

"We do have our guard up." Pidge replied, giving him a bit of a chagrined smile. "Have a little faith."

Keith dug his teeth into the inside of his lip and said nothing. If any of them noticed his grip tightening on his bat, they didn't mention it. He walked with the group for about half an hour, and then he went back to scouting, and Shiro let him go.


The camp was situated in a small valley, where the numerous ramshackle buildings would be protected from the wind. From what they could see perched on the nearby ridge, there was about thirty dwellings, arranged in a crowd around a center meeting point. The entire thing was circled by a rusted chain link fence, which had only one very well guarded gate.

"I don't think we're gonna be able to get through there." Hunk said nervously, biting on his thumb nail.

"Could we climb the fence?" asked Keith. Shiro shook his head with a wry look.

"It would make too much noise."

"Unless we make a distraction."

"Keith, we don't have anything to build explosives." Lance cut in. For him, going from icy silence to playful banter was like flipping a switch. For Keith, it was a little more difficult.

"I never said it had to explode!" He responded defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "It just has to be distracting!"

"Hmmm, I might have an idea." Pidge murmured, drawing the rest of their eyes to her. Her face was serious, a small wrinkle between her brow as she thought. "But it'll be really dangerous."

"This whole mission is dangerous." Shiro said in a firm tone. "Whatever your idea is, tell us."

"Well," she paused and pushed her glasses up on her nose. "I was thinking we could put Lance somewhere a decent distance away and have him snipe a few guys to call attention and cause a panic. We leave Hunk with him just in case they figure out where he is, and then the rest of us sneak over the fence from the back."

Shiro pondered for a moment. "Hm, that could work. That is, if Lance is ok with it?"

"Hell yes!" Lance exclaimed. "My trigger finger has been itching for weeks."

"Are you sure?" Pidge asked, doubt in her voice. "You threw up last time you killed someone."

Lance's smile dimmed a little bit, but he didn't lose his confidence. "That was close range, with an arrow. Totally different."

"If you say so." she didn't sound at all convinced, but she wasn't about to argue. It was the best plan they had, and she had to find Matt.

"Sounds like a plan." said Shiro, calm and collected as always. "We'll wait till dark."


Lance waited until sunset before approaching Keith. They had hidden their gear a fair distance back from the ridge, planning on getting as far away as they could after they pulled off their heist. All of them were doing different things to help stave off the nerves, and Keith happened to be hacking at a tree with his dagger.

"You're going to dull the blade." Lance called, giving Keith advanced warning of his approach.

"I can sharpen it again." Keith retorted, turning away from the shredded bark to face Lance fully. He was panting, and he wiped some sweat off of his forehead. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, I guess I had another question. If that's ok." Lance was almost bashful, dragging the toe of his shoe through the dirt. He had been expecting a blunt no, or a harsh swear, or maybe silence; but he didn't get any of that.

"Ok, go ahead." Lance's eyes darted up to meet Keith's. He looked a little solemn, but not upset or on the edge of a breakdown, so he figured it was safe to proceed. He took a deep breath, trying to release the anxiety that had built up in his shoulder blades.

"Does it get easier?" he asked, his voice coming out quieter and more uncertain than he had intended. He caught Keith's confused look and quickly elaborated. "The killing. Does it get easier?"

His face did something complicated. He had been expecting a question like this, though the answer to this one was infinitely difficult to answer.

"It depends." he said, licking his lips anxiously. "On who it is. It never got easier in the arena."

"Was it easy killing that Galra?"

"Yes." Keith's answer was automatic, but his eyes darkened after he said it. "Probably too easy."

Lance looked back at the ground, watching the wind sift through the individual grains. Despite his earlier excitement, his stomach was all twisted up in knots at the thought of the task ahead.

Keith noticed. "You don't have to do this." he murmured. His fingers twitched, and it was only then Lance realized he was still holding his knife, the blade catching the last of the sun's rays as it disappeared behind the horizon.

"Yes I do." he huffed in answer. "I've been helping Pidge look for Matt for a year, I can't just back out now."

"We can come up with a different plan. You don't have to kill people if you don't-"

"It's the apocalypse, Keith." Despite the slight softening of his eyes, his tone was firm when he interrupted Keith. "Shit's gonna happen."

Keith's expression was half hopeless, half frustrated, but he just shook his head and muttered, "Alright. We should go find the others, it's almost time."

Lance gave him a small, brittle smile, and the two of them returned to the group to put their plan into action.


The dark desert was quiet and still, the wind bearing the sound of low chatter and the crackling of a campfire towards the three silent watchers hidden in the shadows beyond the camp. Pidge, Keith, and Shiro huddled once again in a nearby bush, waiting with white knuckled holds on their weapons. At any moment now, Lance would kick their plan into gear, and they had to be ready to move.

Keith's muscles were coiled up like a spring and beside him he could feel the tension radiating off of Pidge. Under the cover of darkness she had set up a few simple traps around the camp, which would hopefully slow the Galra pursuit when they made their escape. Despite this precaution, they were all sweating with apprehension. This plan was foolhardy, immensely foolhardy, but they had made their decision and there was nothing to be done about it now.

All three of them jolted when the loud bang came echoing up the valley towards the camp. All of the previous chatter they had been hearing died down, and for a moment there was only the wind and the snap-crackle-pop of the fire. Then there was a cry, a voice raising the alarm, and the camp exploded into shouts and thundering feet.

"Now!" Shiro hissed, and the three of them darted out from their hiding spot, making for the chainlink fence. In the flickering light of the fire, Keith could make out the retreating backs of the Galra men as they rushed towards the source of the commotion.

The slight tinkling of the fence as they climbed was nothing compared to the noise the Galra were making, and the trio were inside and scurrying into the shadow of a building without issue.

"Alright, where now?" Keith whispered, and Pidge pointed towards where the large campfire was burning.

"The largest building is at the center, near the fire." she murmured. "That's most likely where we'll find any prisoners or records they might have."

"Split up." Shiro ordered. "Everyone take a different direction. Keep quiet and stay in the shadows. We'll meet there."

Keith and Pidge gave him terse nods, and then they were off.

Keith's heart pounded in his ears as he slunk from shadow to shadow, holding his knife close. He had left his bat behind, too unwieldy to sneak with, as well as his pistol. This was as good as it got.

He traversed the trampled earth that passed for roads quickly, and caught sight of the Galra's giant bonfire within a few minutes of splitting up from his companions. As promised, a comparably large metal building rose up from the opposite side of the square. There was a door and a couple of windows cut into the wall facing him, the borders decorated savagely with barbed wire. There wasn't an actual door as far as he could see, and the interior of the building was disconcertingly dark. But on the right, just for a moment, he caught the telltale flash of flames reflecting off of glasses.

Another crack echoed through the valley, and Keith felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when the Galra commotion picked up in response. As quickly and carefully as he could, he scurried across the square, past the fire and back into the shadows.

Pidge was waiting for him next to the building. She looked even more worried than he felt, repeatedly licking her lips and casting glances over her shoulder. Thankfully, they only had to wait another few moments before Shiro melted out of the shadow of a nearby building and joined them. Together, watching each other's backs, they crept into the dark structure.

Inside was dimly lit in the corners by a few electric lanterns, but other than that it was pitch black. In the back right was a rickety ladder that led up to a second floor made from thin scavenged aluminum, which Keith eyed with distrust. God only knows how full grown men managed to walk around up there without falling right through.

Shiro seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Pidge." he hissed. "Go look around upstairs. Keith and I will sweep down here."

Pidge nodded and immediately headed for the ladder, leaving Keith and Shiro on the first floor. From what he could see, this whole room was dedicated to weaponry, with various tables staggering across the room, laden down with guns and bows and clubs and everything inbetween. Snipped bits of wire and chunks of lead littered the floor, and the two of them had to step carefully to avoid making a sound as they searched for anything helpful.

Lance's rifle sounded once again, slightly muffled from inside, and Keith's fingers felt slightly cold where they wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. It wouldn't be too much longer before the Galra figured out where Lance was positioned and went after him. They had to find something and get out before that happened, or he and Hunk were screwed.

Pidge hopped back down the ladder, frustration now etched into her face as well as worry.

"There's nothing up there." she muttered, barely keeping her voice down. "We don't have time to check another building!"

Shiro started to say something, but just then they heard the crunch of boots in the dirt right outside, and they barely scattered into the shadows before the person was marching inside. Predictably, it was a man, thin and wiry with a leathery mean face. He made a beeline for one of the weapon benches, stomping right past Keith as he did so. He watched him with bated breath, and then met Shiro's eyes across the way.

He had just had an idea.

He didn't wait to think about it, or for confirmation from Shiro. He had an opportunity, he was going to take it, and he was going to do it now. He took a step forward, saw Shiro's eyes widen, and then he turned and pounced.

The man's fingers had just brushed against the cold steel of a gun lying on one of the benches when Keith's elbow hooked around his neck and yanked him backwards. He stumbled, beginning to let out a startled cry, but it died in his throat when Keith's knife poised itself over his jugular.

"Make a sound," Keith hissed into his ear, "and you're dead."

The man obediently kept his mouth shut.

"Keith!" The man's eye twitched when Shiro and Pidge appeared as well, clearly surprised by the number of intruders. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting us information." Keith snapped back. "Now let's go, before they figure out where Lance is."

Shiro's fists clenched at his sides. Why can't he ever stick to the plan?

The rifle cracked for the fourth time, and with a sinking stomach Shiro realized that he didn't have time to argue with his brother. He just had to run with it, so he quickly found a decent length of wire on the floor and used it to bind their prisoners hands. With Pidge trailing behind them, Shiro forced the man out of the building in front of him.

At first, the man tried to trip them up, making noise and dragging his feet. But after a few stilted minutes of trying to get back to the fence, Keith lost his patience and gave the man a warning cut across the neck. It was barely an inch long and not terribly deep, but the sting seemed to scare the man enough for him to co-operate.

The Galra were beginning to return to their houses, seeking out weapons and shouting about tracking down whoever was shooting them. But thankfully, as before, their clamor disguised the clanging of the fence as the three of them forced their prisoner over it.

We're out, Keith thought, allowing himself a small breath of relief. Now we just need to get back to Lance and Hunk.

"Move." Shiro barked, giving their hostage a rough shove. Angry hazel eyes flashed back at him, but he obeyed when he saw Keith's warning expression.

"Shiro," Pidge murmured as they crept through the desert as quickly as they dared. "Are you sure about this?"

Shiro didn't answer, but the clench of his jaw told Keith all he needed to know. He wasn't sure about this, he wasn't happy with Keith going off the plan, and he was definitely going to be having a discussion with him later. But with no other leads on Matt, Keith didn't think they had much of a choice.

God was on their side that night it seemed, because not only did they make it out in one piece, but both Lance and Hunk were waiting at their agreed meeting point without a single scratch on them.

"Holy shit," Lance cried when he saw the four shapes emerge from the night. "Did you guys see those shots? I don't wanna suck my own dick or anything, but-" He cut himself off abruptly, his grin dimming when he finally realized there were one too many people.

"Uh, Shiro, what did you…"

"You took a hostage?!" Hunk exclaimed in total disbelief, jaw dropping nearly to the ground.

"We don't have time to talk about it now." Shiro said in a voice that begged no argument. "We have to get our supplies and get moving."

"It was me." Keith said, unwilling to let Shiro take the brunt of Lance and Hunk's reactions. "I saw an opportunity and I took it."

Lance answered as Keith would have expected, throwing back his head with a dramatic groan.

"Of course it was your idea." He moaned, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Jesus fuck Keith."

"Whatever." he seethed, hanging onto his temper by a thread. "Let's just go."

Shiro shoved the hostage again, and the now slightly larger group marched off into the desert, Lance muttering complaints all the way.

(A/N Shit's about to get real.

UNC-

Silence)