The Voltron: Legendary Defendercharacters are under copyright or license by Toei Animation, World Events Productions, Netflix, Dreamworks Animation, Studio Mir and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain. This work is simultaneously being posted on .

A/N:
Thanks so much for your reviews Yemi Hikari, RangerSparky, Cranberryfriend, PipeDream, narniac4aslan, McGreekFreak, double-0-nothing, ThanaNyx and Pumpkin! I can't wait to hear what you and others think of this chapter!

Chapter 10 – Red vs. Blue: Death of a Paladin

Shiro and Lance. Shiro and Lance. He was right, what he'd thought before, what he'd seen. Keith had lost them both, to each other. He was alone again, the one no one wanted, the one everyone was afraid of, like some pathetic stray you make a half-hearted effort to help, throw him some food, just enough so he starts to get dependent on you, starts to hope, to dream there might be something more to life than just fighting to survive it, but then you reach out to pet him too suddenly, too fast, and he's afraid you're trying to hit him, and you lash out and you growl or bark and bite, and they look all wounded, and back off, and leave, they just leave, and never come back, no matter how much you lie there whining or howling at the moon, and you know you screwed it up, that you blew your one chance, your only chance, your last chance to be loved.

Keith fought desperately to cling to his anger, because this, the dark depression, the hopelessness, was soul crushing. He wouldn't be able to come back from that place, not again, not after finally scrabbling his way out of that alley. Because of Shiro. Shiro had saved him by giving him someone to save, to protect.

Shiro had first broken through to him in the arcade, on those simulators, he'd made that connection, given him a reason to wake up in a world that had left him alone and hungry and desperate his entire life. He'd been in survival mode since he was an infant, but Shiro had taught him there was more, that there could actually be pride too, knowing you were better than someone, until you weren't, and you had to fight for it. Shiro had given him something to strive for, to surpass, to exceed. Until the day Keith couldn't.

He couldn't beat those damned scores, no matter how he'd tried, how much money he spent. All of it. He'd spent his last quarter, forty whole dollars, his food money for the entire month, he'd wasted it, because he still hadn't beaten three of the ten scores, he wasn't fast enough, skilled enough. He had to beat those scores, because someday he was going to catch Shiro playing, he was going to meet him, and then… He didn't know. Maybe he'd finally have a friend? But Shiro wasn't going to come back, if he didn't beat him. He'd lose interest, if Keith was no longer a challenge. Shiro wasn't going to come back.

The thought of Shiro never coming back sent Keith's heart hammering, in terror and loss, it started to trigger that terrifying and primal survival instinct that had always been his curse, the bane of his existence. He could feel the red haze starting to close in, to overwhelm him, but this time, he fought it with everything he had. He wasn't in danger, not here, not now, he didn't need it, he didn't want it, damn it! It made him break things and hurt people without even knowing it, until they hurt him back enough for him to feel pain again, or knocked him out, or enough time passed for him to see what he'd done. He dreaded the day that he'd wake up surrounded not by broken things, but by broken people. He'd had nightmares about it, ever since meeting Shiro.

He'd been so selfish, accepting Shiro's friendship, enrolling in the Academy. He knew he was dangerous, unstable, but when he finally was determined enough to cut Shiro free, for his own safety, Shiro had refused to be pushed away. Keith had growled and snarled and finally bitten the hand that had fed him, that had tried to pet him, but this time, the person had stayed.

Shiro had massaged his jaw, moved it from side to side to ensure it wasn't broken, but instead of fighting back, or running as far and fast as he could from him, like any sane person would have, like everyone else had, he'd just smiled. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Buddy. I'm not going anywhere." Then he'd looked him right in the eye, gently but firmly clapped his hand onto his shoulder, and squeezed it. "I promise you'll never be alone again, Keith."

He'd sealed his promise with that touch, and every shoulder squeeze since, even the one on the night only a few weeks after he graduated from the Academy, the night he broke his promise.

"I got it. I'm the pilot on the Kerberos mission. It's what I've always wanted, what I've dreamed of, worked for, strived for. I can't turn it down, Keith. You're safe and fed, here, even happy. You don't need to smile like everyone else for me to see it. I know you. I see it anyway. I know it might seem like I'll be gone forever, but it's less than six months, there and back. I'll be back soon."

Shiro had made that new promise, the night he'd broken his initial one. And less than three, long, torturous months later, he'd broken that one too.

"Repeating our top story of the evening, the Kerberos mission has officially been declared lost, with all hands. The official verdict of the Board of Inquiry is that pilot error, not equipment failure, was the cause of this terrible tragedy."

"I know it might seem like I'll be gone forever."

Gone. Forever. No more encouraging smiles. No more strong, warm, reassuring hands on his shoulder. Nothing. No one. Emptiness. Loneliness. Grief. Loss. Forever. Alone. Forever. Alone forever alone forever alone forever.

Keith faintly heard Red's tremendous roar as he felt the all too familiar red haze descend, as for some unfathomable reason, helpless grief transformed into unreasoning rage. His whole world became sharp, vivid, clear, but bathed in the color of blood, as the familiar berserker fury tore through him, consuming him.

He began to run, full tilt, the need to get outside, away, overpowering. He raced past the Training Room. He couldn't use a weapon, right now. If he drew his Bayard now… A horrific image flashed before his mind's eye, the one he'd seen before in his nightmares, after every major battle they'd fought: him standing over his butchered teammates, blood splattered everywhere, his Bayard dripping red, his team's lifeless, terrified, accusing eyes staring up at him. Lance's dead blue eyes, his blue and white armor stained red.

There was a second roar in his head, this one not of fury, but of heart-stopping grief, of inestimable, inconsolable loss. It doused the battle rage like ice water, as if he'd just been thrown into a glacial lake.

"Red? What's…? No. Wait. Blue? Blue, what's wrong?" Keith demanded out loud, in sudden realization, that it wasn't his own Lion who was roaring this time, it was Lance's Blue.

His eyes widened and heart hammered. "Lance? Did something happen to Lance?" he demanded, looking back the way he'd come, half expecting to see and hear another explosion, to find Lance burnt and bruised and lifeless looking again, only this time, beyond the healing pod's ability to cure.

Red and Blue both roared, and this time, he couldn't only hear it in his mind. The sound reverberated through the Castle, even as it shook, and alarms started to shrill.

"We're under attack!" Keith yelled in certainty, not heading for the Control Room, which was too far, but directly for the hangar. I need to get to Red now!

0 0 0

"Allura, what's happening?" Shiro demanded, as he ran into the Control Room.

"I don't know! There's nothing on the sensors, no perimeter alarms were triggered, but somehow an intruder must have gotten into the hangar! Both Red and Blue have gone mad! They're attacking one another! They've blasted their hangar doors, and they've done so much damage, I can't get them open now, to free them. If this keeps up, they'll tear the Castle apart!" she exclaimed, as her hands flew desperately over the controls.

"I'm opening the other doors, so the rest of the Lion's can get free. Shiro, Black needs to order them all to scatter. If it's a virus, something trying to get them to destroy one another, we can't let them near one another," she commanded desperately.

"Black, you heard… Keith did what?" Shiro demanded incredulously, shaking his head in horrified denial and disbelief at the vivid image that flooded his mind, of Keith standing over Lance, blood everywhere.

"No. He can't have. Allura, Coran, we need to find Lance, now! Black told me Blue thinks…" He couldn't have. Keith couldn't have killed Lance. He wouldn't lose control that badly, no matter how enraged. Would he? Shiro hated that he even questioned it, that he seriously considered it, but…

Coran's hands flew over the internal security monitor system. "There, Lance is there! He's in the corridor just outside the hangar," Coran pointed.

Shiro clung to the image like a lifeline. "I knew it couldn't be true! Black, Lance is fine! He's there, he's running for the hangar, in the corridor just outside, only a dozen meters from them. You have to get them to stop fighting or Red and Blue are going to be the ones to kill him!" Shiro warned.

0 0 0

Lance turned the corner and nearly barreled head on into Keith, who was also heading at a dead run for the hangar. "What the hell's happening?" he demanded, as they raced side by side.

"No idea. Red's not exactly rational, at the moment," Keith claimed.

"Yeah, Blue's just… screaming," Lance agreed, gritting his teeth against the wild flood of thoughts and emotions that weren't his own, as they entered the hangar. He had only a moment to register molten metal and ice, and Red and Blue tearing at one another like rabid wolverines, and then his head exploded in a cascade of images: blood and explosions, Galrans dying, their ships exploding, cities burning, entire planets pulverized to dust. But bizarrely, those horrific images were intercut with wonderful ones, of the Red and Blue Lions flying, running, playing, deep throaty purrs vibrating and buzzing, their two pilots just as joyous, all four of them at play.

They landed, still laughing, disembarking from their Lions onto a plain of purple grass beneath the double sun, Vespa small and bright and yellow, and her lover Donara, large and red, but far more distant, in his eternal chase of her across the cosmos. Nethla dove onto him, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there with his slender yet powerful body.

Varic allowed Nethlas's seeking fingers to unlock his helmet, even as he unfastened Nethla's, still laughing joyously, Blue's exuberance from their flight still coursing through his blood. Pieces of armor were stripped away by eager, impatient hands and strewn about the field of illicit kutha, the heady and forbidden scent only adding to his arousal. He should have known Nethla had a special destination in mind when he'd initiated the challenge. Then their lips met, and all thoughts of their flight, even of Blue, were submerged in his need.

At least a krone must have passed, they were both sweaty and spent from their exhausting lovemaking, curled into one another's arms, when Blue's low rumble registered. Varic sighed. Nethla had fallen asleep in his arms, his flawless skin glowing golden in Vespa's light. His husband made love with the same limitless passion and enthusiasm and joy with which he did everything else.

Varic wished they could stay like this forever, but they had a duty not only to their King and homeworld, but to the universe, to be ever vigilant in their protection of their blissful peace and prosperity. The thought that anything might ever mar the tranquility they enjoyed was almost inconceivable, yet still, it was their duty to ensure the safety of their Kingdom.

Lance was stunned, spellbound, and shamefacedly aroused by the intimate moment he'd voyeuristically watched between the two men: kissing, touching, loving, hugging, holding. They were beautiful together, in a way Lance had never imagined men together could be, gasping, sweating, thrusting, moaning, with such incredible tenderness, passion, but also playfulness. Lovemaking – they weren't simply fucking, they were making love – sharing their bodies, hearts, minds and souls. And they weren't alone.

The Lions were there too, Red and Blue, their minds and hearts linked to the two men. Lance had never seen either of the men before, but he knew exactly who they were: the Red and Blue Paladins, Nethla and Varic, the original Paladins, the ones he and Keith had replaced, but could never truly replace, though he was certain Blue loved him already.

But Red and Keith… it was different for them. Red was nothing like he had once been. All the playfulness and joy had been burnt away, or at least buried so deep it seldom emerged. Their bond was different as well. Instead of absolute trust and loyalty and love, there was wary distance: neither Keith nor Red trusted one another fully.

And pain, so much pain. Red and Blue couldn't bear more loss, not like that. Because they were dead, the Red and Blue Paladins were both dead. Varic had died in Nethla's arms, while Blue had stood there helplessly, for all his might, powerless to save him. Then Nethla, driven mindless with his grief, his guilt and hatred and need for revenge, had been killed all too easily in Red's cockpit soon after.

"Why? It was my fault, my mistake. He was aiming for me! Why did you get in the way? Why did you protect me?" Nethla begged in anguish.

"You didn't…. believe he'd… do it. That he'd… turn against us… so completely. You… love too much… trust too deeply. Couldn't… let you… die. Love you," Varic whispered with his final breath.

Lance fell to his knees, trapped in the past, oblivious to the chaotic battle being waged around him, sobbing helplessly, shattered by his Lion's grief.

"We had a bonding moment. I cradled you in my arms." Keith's words from after he'd been dying mixed with the images of Nethla and Varic from 10 millennia ago had paralyzed him.

Varic couldn't breathe, he was dying in Nethla's arms, no longer able to feel his husband's hot tears splashing against his cheek, as he fought valiantly to lift his hand, to touch his beloved face, to speak again, but he couldn't move, he couldn't talk, he couldn't feel. He couldn't even breathe.

"No! No, no, no! Lance! Come on! Breathe, you stupid asshole!" The voice was distant, muffled, but furious, desperate, terrified.

Lance? Lance. What an odd name, but familiar somehow.

"You," an incredibly deep, powerful voice urged with astonishing gentleness and determination.

Black? Me? No. I'm Var…No. Not Varic. Varic is… was…

"LANCE!"

Nethla?

The roar was deafening, pain and anguish and frustration, and somehow desperation and apology and need.

Red? How…?

"LANCE!"

Hot. Wet. Tears.

He could feel the tears again. Even as he realized it he gasped, an intake of breath, followed by shooting pain as he coughed and gasped some more. His chest was on fire, but his lips were warm and wet and his eyes flew open and…

What the hell? Why is Keith kissing me? And crying. Keith is actually crying!

Keith jerked back, looking as stunned as Lance felt and Lance tried to sit up but cried out and fell back down, because it felt like someone had dropped an anvil on his chest and cracked half his ribs. It hurt to breathe and … "Quiznak! What…?" Lance croaked. Because the Lions were all roaring, not just Red and Blue, but all five, and the hangars were a smoking and steaming mess, half the adjoining walls ripped away, a jumble of cooling slag steaming in a lake of water and melting ice, and Yellow was actually laying across a thrashing Red, pinning him to the floor, and Black and Green were pinning a struggling Blue.

"You're breathing. You're alive," Keith whispered, looking completely floored by the idea.

And suddenly, Keith kissing him and his chest being on fire and the coughing made sense. "CPR? You were… Quiznak. What happened?"

"He's alive! Tell them he's alive!" Shiro yelled, the relief in his voice palpable, even as Black's roar echoed across the cavernous hangar, and Blue and Red immediately quieted and turned their heads to face them.

"Uh. Yeah. Hey guys," Lance said self consciously, hissing as he failed to sit up again, wrapping his arm around his ribs. Leave it to Keith to break half his ribs trying to save his life.

Holy… Keith saved my life. He actually... "Uh, thanks," Lance said, not sure what to say. Because, you know, the whole almost dying thing. "So… um… yeah, alive. But…?" Lance asked.

Shiro ran over and leaned over him. "Lie still. We need to get you into a healing pod, to be safe. There might be some cardiac damage. Your heart stopped. Allura told us it was a resonance loop. The two of you and your Lions apparently all got caught up in it somehow. Black told me it happens sometimes, it's extremely rare, but when the Lions or their Paladins are under a lot of strain, and a current situation mirrors a past one too closely, the Lions can get stuck, confused, trapped in a memory, sort of like a flashback. And… well, they fought and lost a War, so… there are some pretty intense memories."

Yeah. Varic and Nethla. The Blue and Red Paladins. Husbands. They were husbands, and they both died, and their Lions, they… I'm so sorry, Blue.

There was more a throaty growl than the familiar buzz of a purr, but there was such warmth and desperate affection in the sound, it made Lance wish he could hold his Lion on his lap and stroke Blue like a housecat.

And unexpectedly, there was the familiar buzz of a purr he'd ached to hear, relief and love flooding him.

"Are you alright?" Keith asked, his voice hesitant, almost timid sounding, and shaky, completely unlike how he should be.

"No I'm not alright! You broke my ribs, you idiot!" the old Lance wanted to indignantly yell.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Um, thanks again. For, you know, the…" He pointed to his mouth as he felt his face flush with heat.

"Yeah. Just… don't do that again. Almost dying," Keith ordered, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

"OK. Sure. Next time you can be the one to almost die," Lance joked with a smirk that quickly changed to a frown, because the thought of that actually happening made it hard to breathe again. He wiped away the mix of both his own tears and Keith's from his face.

"No one's dying. Not on my watch," Shiro reprimanded firmly. "Coran will be here with a hover gurney soon. Just lay still until then," Shiro insisted, his eyes flicking to Lance's chest and back to his face.

Ah. Shiro apparently knows about my ribs. I don't think Keith's realizes. And Lance didn't want him to.

"He's going to be alright, isn't he?" Keith demanded, sounding like a scared child, not a Paladin of Voltron.

"He's going to be fine," Shiro assured him.