Ah yes, here it is, chapter thirteen! I did not mean to upload this chapter on Friday the 13th, but hey, sometimes life happens in strange fashions. This is a chapter that I've been looking forward to writing for a long time now, so hopefully it does not disappoint! As always, thanks for reading!

burgundy

chapter thirteen

pride

"He's only just sleeping. Nothing to worry about."

Coran's words brought them both a breath of relief- they hadn't known what to think after Keith had suddenly passed out in the red lion's hangar. Shiro had scooped him up into his arms without so much as a second thought, and wasted no time in making for the infirmary, while Lance hurried to locate Coran and bring him there.

It had been a frenzy of chaos and panic, one that they were still winding down from. And Keith, infamous for being a light sleeper, had slept through the whole thing, even when they had stripped him of the outer plates of his paladin armor, leaving him in the bodysuit underneath it.

"So what now?" Lance asked. "Do we like pop him in one of the pods, or?"

"No, no, that shouldn't be necessary." Coran told them. "If anything, I'd advise against it. It would seem that what our red paladin here has is a simple case of exhaustion. Best to let him sleep it off naturally."

Exhaustion. So Keith really had pushed himself past his limits- why hadn't he tried harder to stop him?

"Yeah, he was looking pretty wiped." Lance observed. "You think maybe he hasn't been getting enough sleep?"

"He definitely hasn't been getting enough sleep." Shiro said. "But that's not really anything new."

"Oh?" Coran perked up, glancing over towards Shiro with a slight frown. "Do tell, Number One. What do you mean by that?"

"Keith- he only sleeps maybe three hours a night." Shiro told him, a tight frown on his face. "I don't know how it works for Alteans, but humans usually need at least eight hours a night, or there's usually consequences. He's also probably been sleeping in the red lion ever since we got here."

"Wait, three hours?" Lance asked, arching a brow. "Man, I'd heard rumors that he was a light sleeper, but that's just ridiculous."

"So poor sleeping habits then." Coran noted. "I'll add that to his medical log. And he's been this way for as long as you've known him?"

"Pretty much." Shiro told him. "Back at the Garrison, I tried getting him into the habit of sleeping longer, but he might have reverted back to old habits while I was..." his gaze shifted, "...away."

"Hm." Coran seemed to frown, typing something into his data pad. "Now what can you tell me about the symptoms he was experiencing on the Balmera?"

"Oh man, Coran, you should have seen it- it was super freaky." Lance was quick to speak up. "He got all zoned out, like he was in some kind of weird trance or something. Barely talked."

"I think I might know why." Shiro spoke up. "The not talking part, at least. English- that is, the Earth language that all five of us speak, isn't Keith's native language. I think he was probably having difficulty parsing his thoughts in it."

He'd... save the other part of his theory for when he'd actually spoken to Keith about it.

"Huh." Lance blinked. "So what is mullet's first language, then? Chinese? Korean? Can't be Japanese, because you're Japanese."

"I... don't know, actually." Shiro admitted. "You'd have to ask him."

"So, possible communication issues when ill. Got it." Coran said. "Well, I'll give Number Four here a bit of a look over, but I do think that with some rest, he'll be just fine."

"Thanks, Coran." Shiro told him. "And sorry to draw you away from Allura."

He knew how important the princess was to him- and that she was still very weak from the Balmera's rejuvenation ceremony. To draw him away from her side at this critical time... he couldn't help but feel a little bad about it, however much they did need his help.

"Oh no, think nothing of it!" Coran told him. "Much like Number Four here, she'll be just fine with some good rest!"

"Well that's good to hear." Lance noted. "Should we transport mullet here back to his room? Or," he paused, making a face, "...to the red lion, I guess, since that's apparently where he does all of his sleeping? Man, that cannot be comfortable."

"It's... probably better we don't move him around too much." Shiro said.

"Oh right. Knife boy, gotcha." Lance said- and Shiro had to arch a brow at that. "What? You had to have heard the rumors at some point, Shiro."

"That he sleeps with a knife underneath his pillow?" Shiro ventured, wondering which one of his former roommates had let that piece of information get out. "That's not a rumor."

Lance visibly paled at that. "...right, well, good to know."

"He'll be just fine here in the med bay. I'll keep an eye on him, make sure his condition doesn't get any worse." Coran reassured them. "And you two can go and relax a little. You've both had a very long day, and you did good work, so you deserve a little time to yourselves."

"Thanks, Coran." Shiro said again, a fond smile on his face. "Let me know when he wakes up."

"Can do, Number One." Coran promised him.

Casting a lingering glance back towards the still sleeping form of Keith, Shiro knew that he would have to have a discussion with him soon. If Keith had some kind of unique ability that had gotten him into trouble in the past, then he could understand why he didn't want to talk about it. Still, if it was something that could put him at risk, like it clearly had back on the Balmera... it was better that they know about it.

They were a team now, and teams needed to trust each other.

Alone, in the med bay, with Number Four.

Don't get him wrong- his first priority was seeing to the health and well being of the red paladin. He'd given them all quite the scare back there, and though his vitals were holding steady, there was still a chance that there might be some kind of underlying root issue that he'd missed on his preliminary inspection.

They still didn't know what had caused his averse reaction to being on the Balmera, which was a concern. His brainwave patterns seemed to be fine at the moment, but from the way the paladins had described it at the time, it was quite clear to him that something abnormal had happened.

Abnormal for a human, at any rate.

Which Number Four likely wasn't.

There were two points of interest in what Number One had told him- the boy's poor sleeping habits, and the fact that the tongue they all shared was not Number Four's natural one. The latter was perhaps not too strange- from the sound of it, Earth had a vast number of different languages.

No, what really got to him were his sleeping habits. From the way he'd spoken about it, it would seem that sleeping only three hours a night, every night, was something that would eventually cause serious problems for a human being- yet up until this point, he'd never noticed that Number Four had ever seemed particularly tired.

In that case, he likely came from a race in which sleep cycles were naturally short. The Galra, he knew, were almost infamous for their own short sleep cycles- just two hours a night, and they were good to go. There were a few others besides them, but none, Coran thought, were anywhere near humanoid enough to well, pass for a human.

Which rounded back to what he had long since suspected- that this was not Number Four's natural form.

There were certainly other races aside from Alteans who could change their form- though he'd yet to hear of one that managed to hold onto said form after losing consciousness. And yet, though he'd done just that, Number Four's appearance hadn't changed in the slightest.

Curious, very curious.

Rummaging around the med bay, Coran took a bit to find what he was looking for. It was quite unfortunate that Lance had been required to spend time in one of the healing pods, but thanks to that, he now had human biological data to use as a comparison.

Perhaps this was all a bit underhanded of him, he knew. Number Four had done nothing but gain his trust on this recent mission- to fighting past his limits, to his willingness to sacrifice everything for the team (though he really ought not to do that again anytime soon).

But he needed to know.

For health reasons, if nothing else. Whatever was going on with the red paladin, Coran suspected that it had to do with whatever it was that he was hiding. If this was something that was going to become a repeat issue, then he at least needed to have some idea of how to treat it- or even what it was.

Number Four would likely be asleep for quite some yet. Enough time for a few basic tests- he'd deign to go any further than that.

The scanner picked up nothing too unusual, not at first. In fact, if he hadn't been actively looking for anything that was out of place, he doubted he would have even noticed.

At first, it appeared to be nothing more than an odd bit of bone, at the very base of his spine. Out of place, to be sure, but nothing too strange.

Except it wasn't bone, his scanner informed him, when he endeavored to take a closer look. In fact, it appeared to be nothing natural at all- a chip, of some kind. Stroking his mustache with one hand, Coran leaned back, trying to decide what to make of it. He'd never seen anything quite like it, and without having the actual chip in hand, it wasn't likely he could determine its purpose.

Which clearly, not an option.

Hesitating for the span of a second, Coran set aside the handheld scanner, tucking it back away where he had found it. Reaching out, he deftly plucked a strand of Number Four's hair from his head, only letting out his held breath once it was clear he was going to do nothing more than flinch in his sleep.

Pulled from the rest of his body, the single strand of hair seemed to change color. Though it was hard to make it out too clearly with the naked eye, it had become much lighter in color, moving away from the stark black that he'd become accustomed to- and in fact, he'd dare say it was now two colors, as opposed to simply one.

But both shades seemed to be of the same general color.

Purple.

"You're worried about him."

Antok's mask was up, but Kolivan did not need to see his face to know what sort of expression he wore. He had known him far too long for that.

"His mission report is late." Kolivan replied, keeping his tone curt. "He should have made contact by now."

"Kyix has never been one for timely reports." Antok observed. "What concerns you is the Balmera."

"He is older now than he was the last time, more experienced." Kolivan responded. "He will be fine."

"Ah, so then you admit that you are worried." Antok noted- and underneath the mask, he was for certain wearing a leering grin. "It cannot be any worse than the time we raided the temples on Elzat. He was speaking in tongues for weeks after."

Yes, he remembered that venture quite well. Kyix had spent the ensuing weeks babbling in long dead tongues, frantically scribbling on anything that he could get his hands on. He'd barely been aware that time had passed when he'd come back to himself, and from that point on, they had decided as a whole to err on the side of caution when taking the youngling to any such places as that.

(Krolia had threatened to make a pelt out of him if her son didn't come back to himself. He wholeheartedly believed her.)

"Quite." Kolivan noted. "But Kyix is no longer a child. He is a Blade, and should be treated just as any other."

"And yet, you indulge his antics far more than you would the rest of us." Antok observed. "Though he's outdone himself this time. A paladin of Voltron." He snorted, the sound of it almost fond. "Who would have thought?"

"You know better than to speak of that openly, I hope." Kolivan remarked, narrowing his eyes. "We cannot risk having that information get out, least it compromise him."

"You know me better than that, Kolivan." Antok told him. "I'm sure he'll be fine. He's as stubborn as he is tiny, that one."

"Besides," Antok began, his tail swishing in lazy circles behind him, "...we both know that if he doesn't come back to see her young one, Ilun will have your head herself."

Ah yes. He believed that too.

He woke with a jolt.

Gasping for breath, Keith felt a surge of panic rise in his chest, all too keenly aware that he did not know where he was. Eyes frantic, he cast them around the room, trying to determine exactly what had happened.

Right. He'd blacked out.

Drawing in a long breath, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. Swearing underneath his breath, he realized with a start that he was in the med bay- exactly where he didn't want to be.

He didn't seem to be in a pod, at least, and a quick check of his hands showed that they were still very much that same shade of peach. Someone had removed the outer layers of his paladin armor- which was a thought that had made his skin crawl. He'd not only passed out, but he'd left himself so vulnerable that he could be stripped of his protective gear.

If this was an enemy ship, he'd be dead.

Or worse. He knew what they did to the runts they didn't kill.

(How could he be a paladin of Voltron when he hadn't even been able to save them.)

Seeing as he wasn't chained up or confined in any way, it was clear that his secret hadn't come out. Still, he didn't like the idea of staying here any longer. Pushing himself out of bed, he ignored the slight haze that came upon him when he moved- it didn't seem like he was fully recovered from what he'd experienced on the Balmera.

What a pathetic side he'd shown of himself, he couldn't help but think. He was supposed to be better than that.

(At least it didn't seem to be like that time after Elzat. He didn't think the paladins would take kindly to him speaking in tongues and trying to draw arcane symbols on himself- and them.)

He'd have to come up with some kind of an excuse to explain everything, he knew. He didn't know how well they'd take the idea of him being sensitive to energies. It probably wouldn't be enough to give him away, but it would be enough for them to warrant keeping an extra eye on him- and the less scrutiny he was under, the better.

Right now, though... he just wanted to get back to the red lion and- ugh, that's right. Kolivan was probably waiting for his mission report.

Groaning, Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a long breath. He didn't know what time it was, but judging from how dim the castle-ship's lights were, it was probably rather late. Kolivan was likely getting quite impatient with him.

Right. Mission report first, then another nap. Somewhere that wasn't here.

"Leaving so soon, Number Four?"

Jolting at the sound of the voice, Keith felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Whirling around, he came face to face with Coran, swearing under his breath at his unexpected appearance. How long had he been there?

Coran's brows seemed to furrow at his half muttered curse, and Keith felt his blood freeze. Suddenly, he found himself unable to recall what language he'd just spoken, a grip of cold panic clutching at his heart. If it had been Galran...

What felt like the longest second passed, and Coran merely gave him a smile. "You've not yet fully recovered, my boy. You really shouldn't be moving around so much."

Exhaling, Keith felt his shoulders relax. Not Galran, then. There was no way Coran wouldn't be able to recognize it for what it was. It hadn't changed that much in the past ten thousand years.

(It had changed some, he knew- it was harsh now, all rough edges and sharp sounds. Once, it had been much softer.)

"I'm fine, Coran." Keith told him, taking extra care to not fall back into his native tongue. "Sorry for the scare."

"You said you were fine back on the Balmera too, and look how that turned out." Coran pointed out. "Now have yourself a seat, let me take a look at you."

Grumbling, Keith nevertheless complied. He didn't have much of a choice.

The lights in the med bay flickered on, and Keith had to blink for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. It would have been worse with his real eyes, one of the few things about this human form that he actually found mildly convenient.

Allowing Coran to fuss with him was perhaps the most stressful few minutes of his life- the Altean man's low hms and ahs not really helping matters much. It felt like he was back sitting on the examination table at the main base, the doctor on hand checking him out to see if he was really mission ready, without letting him be the first one to know the results.

(They always reported them to Kolivan, since they knew full well that if they left it up to him, he'd just lie and say he was, no matter what they turned out to be.)

"Well, you don't seem to have a fever, and all your vital signs appear to be normal." Coran noted.

"So I can go?" Keith asked, trying and failing not to sound too overeager.

"Oh, I didn't say that." Coran told him. "Hop down for me, Number Four."

Without thinking, Keith did exactly that- it was only once his feet hit the floor, that he realized something was wrong.

That- that had been Galran. The enunciation had been complete shit, but it had unmistakably been Galran.

He'd spoken to him in Galran, and he'd done exactly what he'd told him.

There were almost an exceedingly large number of swears in Galran, nearly all of which he knew, but all of them seemed to fail to really bring home how he felt in the current moment. Thankfully, English had him covered.

Fuck.

"So you do speak it." Coran observed- in Common, this time. Keith had to fight the urge to wince.

"I don't know-" Keith began, only to find himself quickly cut off.

"Oh come now, my lad, there's no shame in it." Coran told him- and for as easy as his tone was, his gaze was very much assessing him, a quiet contemplation to him. "The Galra Empire has dominated most of the known universe by now, there's no shame in knowing their tongue. Call it a survival strategy, if you will."

"I'm not-" Keith began, only to find himself cut off, once again.

"Ah, but you are, Number Four." Coran told him, a hand staying up to pluck thoughtfully at his mustache. "Your human disguise is impeccable, I must say, but far from perfect. The results from your physical exam indicate as much."

And Keith actually did wince at that. He'd thought he'd hid the differences pretty well, since no one had said anything. Apparently not.

And now he was alone, in the med bay, with an Altean, who he couldn't tell if he knew for sure if he was Galra or not yet.

Had Coran already told everyone else? Were they just outside, waiting to see how this all played out? There were already escape routes playing out in the back of his mind- which would be better, making for the red lion, or heading to the general hangar bay? Ugh, but before he even did that, he needed to retrieve his blade- Kolivan would never forgive him if he left it behind.

Who knew if it was even still in his room. Maybe Allura was holding onto it now, or Shiro. Maybe they'd unwrapped it's hilt, recognized the mark as being that of the Galra Empire, only cut in half. He doubted they'd know the significance of it, which only made it worse. He could claim he was a Galra rebel- which was the honest truth- but he didn't know if they'd believe it.

They only thought of the Galra as an evil, monolithic race. Why wouldn't they? Nearly everyone else believed it. It would be easier to believe he was a spy for the empire, rather than a spy for the rebellion.

(Either way, still a spy.)

"...what do you want from me?" Keith asked, not masking the suspicion and mistrust in his tone. If he already knew, what was even the point?

"I believe that's my question, Number Four." Coran said, his expression and tone both unreadable. "What is it that you want from us?"

"I don't know what you mean." Keith fought the urge to hiss, grateful that the texture of his hair had changed with his transformation- it would have raised, like the proper fur it was, had it not. "I don't- I don't want anything from you."

He could overpower Coran and get out of here, make a break for it. Kolivan would be furious that he'd blown his cover, but it would be better than staying here. They could find a new paladin for the red lion, one that they could actually trust.

Silence, and then at long last, Coran let out a long sigh. "There's no need to be so cautious, Number Four. I've not yet shared any of my suspicions with anyone else."

And that... did make him drop his guard, a little, visible confusion manifesting on his face. "...why not?"

"I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself." Coran told him simply, arching a brow.

That answer only confused him all the more. "...why?"

"Because thus far, the only thing you've done that's untrustworthy is to lie about your whereabouts." Coran told him. "Today's mission more than proves that whatever your origins, you are nothing if not a loyal paladin."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith searched the Altean's face, trying to glean some tidbit of information from it. Was he being honest? Had he really not told anyone yet? Was there still a chance that he might be able to lie his way out of this?

"But I'd much rather you didn't lie." Coran chimed in, as if he had been reading his thoughts.

He knew the click of his tongue gave his thoughts away, but he found himself strangely unable to care. There were two options before him- stay silent, and hope that Coran decided to stay silent as well, which was unlikely. Or speak the truth, and suffer the consequences.

Either option would eventually lead to him needing to leave, it was simply just a matter of when. At least with the latter, he'd know the answer to that.

"What do you want me to say?" Keith finally asked, drawing himself up as much as he could, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"We could start with your real name, if you like." Coran ventured.

His real name. His unmistakably Galran name.

"You already know, don't you?" Keith asked, watching him through narrowed eyes. "What I am."

"I have a strong suspicion." Coran observed. "But I'd much rather hear it from you."

"If you know that much, I'm surprised you didn't just shoot me out of the airlock while I was still unconscious." Keith snorted.

"You've done nothing thus far to warrant that kind of treatment." Coran told him, lightly tugging on his mustache. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Could be a trick." Keith pointed out.

"It's possible." Coran noted with a nod of his head. "You could fool us for sure. But the red lion? I find myself quite doubtful of that."

"For all you know, the empire could have tampered with it." Keith told him.

"It's possible." Coran acknowledged once again. "But I quite doubt it."

Keith held his stare for a moment longer- before he let out a long sigh, allowing his shoulders to slump. He'd expected... he didn't know, revulsion? Betrayal? Apprehension, if nothing else. Not this... this strange feeling of patient acceptance.

It put him off.

"Kyix." He finally said. "That's my name."

"Ah, a fine name." Coran observed. "I believe it translates roughly into pride, does it not? The parent who named you must cherish you quite a bit."

"...my mother." Keith muttered, averting his eyes from him. That was not the comment that he'd expected, which seemed like it was going to be a running trend with Coran.

"Hm, your mother, yes." Coran said, nodding his head. "I must say, you're doing quite well without her. Most Galra children around your age are-"

"Coran." Keith cut him off, his tone flat. "I'm eighteen."

Now that caught him off guard. If it weren't for the fact that Coran had mistaken him for a youngling, he'd almost feel a little smug about it.

"I could have sworn that you were-" Coran began.

Nope. No way. Did not want to hear how old Coran thought he was. "Well, I'm not."

"Ah." Coran blinked. "Ahlet, then, I take it?"

A soft word. Old Galran. Little one.

"Aket." Keith corrected. Harsher, New Galran, spat out with disdain. Runt.

It was not a difference that was lost on the Altean man, whose expression seemed to falter, as if only now, was the fact that the Galra Empire was not as it once was hitting him. "Oh," he said simply, "...I see."

"Look, for what it's worth, it wasn't my intention to come here." Keith stated plainly. "My mission was to track down the blue lion so that it could be transported somewhere Zarkon couldn't get to it. That's all. Finding a ten thousand year old Altean castle-ship and becoming a paladin of Voltron was not part of the plan."

And he'd just said too much. Great.

"Mission, was it?" Coran asked, thoughtfully stroking his mustache. "Mission for who, Number Four?"

Maybe he really should just knock him out and make a break for it. It would just be so much easier.

"I can't-" Keith began, before stopping short. "...I can't tell you."

"The rebellion?" Coran ventured.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith decided that maybe that much, he could share. "...yes."

Another faint hm, that really made Keith reconsider the option of just knocking him out and getting things over with again. "So? What now? There's a Galra on your ship. Are you going to shoot me out of the airlock or what?"

"No, of course not, Number Four." Coran said. "Regardless of who you are, and where you come from, you're a paladin of Voltron now. We need you here."

Biting down a comment that he could not guarantee one hundred percent loyalty to the paladin cause, Keith instead let out a faint grunt. "I'm Galra."

"And the Galra were once our allies." Coran noted.

"Yeah, look how that turned out." Keith said, arching a brow. "Not to mention the last time a Galra was a paladin-"

"And yet, the red lion chose you, knowing that." Coran remarked. "I choose to trust its judgement."

All Keith could do for a long moment was hold his gaze- before he broke that, grumbling to himself. There was no way it could be this easy, there had to be some kind of trick to all this.

"...so? You going to tell everyone else?" Keith finally asked.

"No." Coran told him. "That's not my task."

Letting out a faint snort, Keith rolled his eyes. "Well if you're expecting me to tell them, then you'll be waiting a long time."

"I won't argue against it." Coran said simply. "I can imagine that you have your reasons for wanting to keep your true identity a secret, Number Four. But the paladin bond-"

"-is built on trust. I know." Keith said. "But they're sure as hell not going to trust a fucking Galra."

Coran remained silent for a long moment, almost looking as if he wanted to say something- before he merely let out another faint hm, causing Keith's eye to twitch. "If that's your choice, I won't argue against it. Only know that if you ever find yourself in a spot of trouble, you can always feel free to call on old Coran here."

"Now," Coran began again, before he got a chance to say anything else, "...you've had a very long day, Number Four! And you're still recovering from that scare you gave us all back on the Balmera. I suggest you return to your room and get yourself a bit more rest."

"So what, that's it?" Keith asked, staring at him, dumbfounded.

"Was there something more you needed to tell me?" Coran asked.

I'm spying on you, Keith couldn't help but think- before he narrowed his eyes.

"No."