Allura rolled her shoulders as she gazed out over the Servian System. The star Matt had mentioned was enormous, even from quite the distance away. It was expanding, reaching the end of its lifespan. The light was bright, but dull enough so Allura wasn't blinded by its mere presence.

It was both magnificent and very sad. Civilizations would be lost as soon as this sun exploded, hundreds of people either displaced or dead. She wondered in the galaxy in which Altea used to reside in had lost its sun.

She checked one more time to make sure that the only thing coming in and out of their communications was static and turned to leave.

She was surprised to see Lance standing at the door.

He gave her a small, tentative smile, his hand resting on the doorframe. His gaze flickered out at the magnificent, burning sun, and then back at her.

"We're here, then?" Lance asked.

Allura hummed an affirmation. It was not unlike Lance to seek her out specifically, but it was odd that he looked so somber. Normally he was grinning cheesily, a pick-up line or a pun quick upon his lips. But now he looked subdued; a hunched over version of himself.

"Is…everything okay, Lance?" Allura asked.

Lance looked at her and then back at the sun. His lips pursed. He muttered something in that strange language he sometimes slipped into (the other Paladins informed her it was called 'Spanish') and crossed his arms. His shoulder bumped gently into the doorframe as he leaned his weight against it. One leg draped over the other.

"Do you feel like maybe we could have done more?" He asked.

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning," Allura said.

"I'm talking about the rescue," Lance said. "We didn't even save Keith. It was the resistance. We're supposed to be the universe's greatest weapon and we can't even rescue our own teammate when the Galra have him. This whole time we've been relying on someone else." His tone was bitter. Coarse, like sand. Rough.

Allura saw his point. After all, she'd also had been so determined to save Keith from the Galra. They'd formulated a plan for it all to crumble into dust in their hands. The relied on the coalition and their elite teams rather than being able to go in on their own. It wasn't inherently their fault, either. They would not be able to get to Keith in time, Allura was sure. He would not have been able to hold up to the brutality of the Galra much longer from what she had seen of his injuries. His body would bend, it would break, and Keith would be no more.

Of that, Allura was certain.

But she understood Lance's frustration. She saw how being so utterly helpless in their teammate's - their brother's - own rescue made Lance feel powerless.

After all, it was what she felt.

They could have done more, done better. Fought harder, gone faster, worked more. There were so many 'what if's in this situation that there was no helping the guilt that would inevitably come with everything else.

Allura looked back at Lance. His gaze was now trained firmly on the star in the distance. He was biting his lip.

"I think so," she said softly. Lance's eyes jumped to her. "I think there was much we could have done but this is the way that things have turned out. And in ways… I think this is better."

"How?" Lance was so angry. "How is this better? Keith is… he's…" He hunched in on himself. "He has scars, Allura. And not just from his injuries, he's so quiet. He's not Keith anymore, he's someone else. It's our fault. We weren't there. We weren't fast enough." His paused. His blue eyes were wet. "And it's my fault because I thought he could handle it."

"Lance-"

Lance huffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "Should've known," he muttered, barely audible over the hum of the Castle's systems.

"Lance, it's not your fault," Allura said firmly, glad that they were finally reaching the root of Lance's frustrations. She knew the fact that they were not the ones who had saved Keith was definitely a factor but wasn't the defining issue.

"Yes, it is," Lance said. "Pidge thinks it's her's, too. Maybe it's both of ours. Because we were stupid enough to think that Keith was limitless. That he could handle everything that came his way."

"Well, he certainly came off like that-" Allura stopped herself before she could finish. Came. The past-tense of the word scared her. Keith was no longer like that. He was frail, quiet. His spark had gone out, dulled just like the dying sun at her back.

Lance growled in that strange language - Spanish, Allura reminded herself - and kicked the door frame. "Yeah. So we screwed up. It's our fault Keith is like this."

"Lance," Allura said softly but firmly. She had to get her point across. "Keith is not 'like this' because of you and Pidge. He is merely scared and needs support getting back to who he once was. He is not gone." She said it more to comfort herself than Lance. To remind herself that the spark wasn't gone. Not forever. Keith would go back to coming off like he was unstoppable. Because that was Keith. That was who he was.

"Yeah, well," Lance said, his voice hard. "It sure feels like that."

Allura sighed. "I don't think I can help you with this, Lance. I believe you and Pidge need to confront Keith about it directly. He's the only one who can give you peace."

Lance looked away. He was quiet for a moment. Thoughtful, introspective. Then, he looked back at her. He understood what he was to do if he ever wanted to be free of the guilt. He understood what Pidge had to do, too.

"I'll try," he said quietly.

And that was enough for Allura.

Hunk wouldn't let Keith have another bowl of soup.

Keith made a face as Hunk put the bowl the Altean version of a dishwasher. He desperately wanted more. In fact, it was more like his stomach demanded more. Deprived of food for so long, he was near ravenous. But he knew Hunk was right; too much food on his practically shriveled stomach could do more harm than good at this point. It still didn't change the fact that Keith was hungry.

Then Shiro set his hand carefully on Keith's shoulder - the one with the prosthetically almost lovingly molded to his flesh - and smiled. He offered a shower, one that Keith had been deprived of for eight days. Keith followed Shiro up towards the living quarters and paused outside the bathroom door.

He glanced down at the bandages down that covered the scars and Keith swore he felt a presence behind him. Large and leering, like if he turned his head then Laynek would be looming behind him but when Keith whipped his head around to look, there was no one there.

Shiro gave him a sympathetic smile. "Will the clothes you're wearing now work or should I get you fresh ones?"

Keith - who was very content to stay in his red hoodie - shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets. He found himself unconsciously messing with the fingers of his right arm. It felt detached; like he could pull on the metal and feel no pain. He wouldn't be surprised if it were true.

"Are…" he spoke and was once again surprised at how quiet he was. How hoarse he sounded. "Are the bandages waterproof?"

He didn't want to take them off. He didn't want to look at the horrible ringed scars again. He wanted to forget they even existed.

Shiro nodded. "They should be, and if they aren't, I'll keep your arm outside of the shower for you so you don't have to look. Okay?" Keith looked down. Shiro was being so kind to him, even after all the trouble he was causing. If he were still in the foster system, he'd be slapped, he'd be punished for making so many problems.

Keith jolted.

He wasn't sure why he was thinking about that. He hadn't remembered the horrors of that system in years. What was the point of bringing up old trauma now?

"Come on, buddy," Shiro held the door open. "Let's get all the gross stuff off, okay?"

"Okay," Keith said.

He took a few tentative steps into the bathroom. It was quiet, the faint dripping of water coming from one of the stalls. One of the other Paladins - likely Pidge or Lance - had taken a shower here recently.

"I'll go grab your shampoo and stuff from your room," Shiro said. It wasn't an offer. "You get into the shower."

"Okay," Keith said again.

Shiro smiled and left the room and for the first time since Keith had been rescued, he was left alone.

Keith looked around him. The bathroom had always been big, but never before had it been imposing in the way it was now. Too empty, too big. Something could creep up on him here.

No, Keith drew in a deep breath through his nose. No, nothing is going to sneak up on me here. I'm okay. I'm safe.

He reached carefully to pull the hoodie and his shirt over his head in one tug. He let it fall to the floor and paused to glance at himself in the mirror.

But the boy looking back at him through the glass… it wasn't Keith. It couldn't have been. This boy was tired with dark bags like bruises under his eyes and bandages wreathed around his left arm. He didn't even want to look at his right, knowing there was only trauma and metal waiting for him there. His hair was disheveled, greasy. Amethyst eyes - ones he inherited from his mother - stared back at him. He was sallow and thin, cheeks sunken and his ribs prominent.

This boy was not Keith.

It could not have been.

But it was.

Keith wrapped his arms around his middle. His bandages brushed against his abdomen. He remembered the knife buried there, the pain of Haggar healing the wound. He remembered the table, the one where he'd been mercilessly tortured on time and time again. He'd never be able to rid himself of these memories. They'd be there for the rest of his life.

The thin, puckered scars on Keith's back pulled as he hunched over himself. He stared wide-eyed at the floor, gaze unseeing. He felt so wrong. The boy in the mirror… it was not him. It couldn't have been.

He didn't hear the door hiss open. He didn't hear Shiro set his things down on the floor and turn towards him. He didn't hear Shiro call his name. He only became aware of his presence after Shiro pulled him into him. He hid Keith's face in his shoulder and Keith trembled.

"That's not me," he heard himself say. "That's not me."

Shiro did not reply. His hand cupped the back of Keith's head.

"That's not me," Keith said again.

Shiro's fingers ghosted over the scars on Keith's back. He startled, knowing those hadn't been there before his capture. He ran circles over one, the raised skin rising and falling under the pad of this thumb. They were so small but they spoke volumes about what Keith had been through. He looked down at the frail body clinging to him, face pressed into his shirt. Keith didn't want to see the world. Shiro understood why probably better than anyone.

"I know this is hard," Shiro whispered. "And it will keep being hard… but I'm here for you. The team is here for you."

"That's not me," was Keith's response. Shiro began tracing circles into Keith's scalp to help calm him, turning his head to look at the mirror. Then, he understood. He knew what had caused Keith such distress.

He'd seen himself in the mirror.

"Oh Keith," he whispered. He knew what Keith was going through. He'd experienced it himself, after all. He'd gazed into the mirror but the person looking back wasn't the person he remembered. He didn't think he ever had dealt with it. Just accepted that things were different than how they used to be. But that wouldn't do, not with Keith.

Keith shook, his whole body wracked with vicious tremors. He gripped Shiro's shirt like it was his lifeline. The scars on his back pulled and twisted.

Shiro's heart wrenched.

"I know it's weird," he whispered, not really sure of what he was saying. "I know this is hard for you, but… that person in the mirror is still-"

"No it's not!" Keith said in a high-pitched cry. "It's not me! I don't look like that, I don't-" He paused. His body was wracked with sobs. "I don't look so… so broken." Shiro clicked his tongue softly, pressing his cheek into the top of Keith's hair. It was greasy, but Shiro didn't care.

"This is going to be hard," he said. "I won't lie to you. Getting through this will be the biggest challenge you will ever face. But just because you look different doesn't mean you are."

"You don't understand," Keith cried. "Lotor was right, I'm just some half-breed who thought he was strong. I should have realized it before I fought him-"

Shiro felt like he had been doused in ice water. "What?"

"He challenged me to a duel," Keith sobbed. "I thought I won. I thought I beat him but-" He remembered the flash of Lotor's foot in motion, the pain of landing on his burned back. "But I was wrong. He beat me because I was weak enough to think I was strong."

Shiro bristled. That bastard. He'd challenged Keith to a duel knowing he wouldn't refuse. He had beaten Keith, cut him down and blamed it on Keith's strength. The idea that he could do anything if he set his mind to it. It was the mindset that Shiro had instilled in Keith many years ago and Lotor had torn it away without a second thought.

"You aren't weak," Shiro said. "No one can go through what you did and still say they're weak. You've survived so much Keith-"

"He beat me-"

"Were you injured?" Shiro asked.

That got Keith to pause. He was silent for a moment, deliberating. That was somehow more telling than the actual words themselves.

"Yes," Keith whispered.

"With?"

Keith shivered. He shut his eyes. He didn't want to remember the table. The freezing and the chilling, the endless cycle of blisters and gore that had been inflicted upon him. But he also knew - from Shiro talking in hurried whispers about nightmares late in the night - that keeping it in would be worse.

"Burns," he whispered. His back ached in remembrance. "The… the table I was…" He swallowed, shutting his eyes. He could hardly put his words together. "It changed temperature. Burned and froze my back over and over. H-Haggar healed it with one of her potions but Lotor challenged me… while it was still burnt…"

Shiro's thumb brushed against one of the scars. "That's where…"

Keith made a miserable 'mhm' noise. High-pitched and almost whiny. Hot tears stung his eyes.

Shiro tightened his grip around Keith. "Lotor did that on purpose, you know."

Keith tensed. "What?"

"He wanted to break you," Shiro said. "So he challenged you to a duel he knew he'd win." Keith only seemed more distraught by the news.

"So that means I really am weak," he cried. "I-I fell for it I-"

"No, Keith," Shiro said. "I don't think anyone could have won that fight under your circumstances. Not me, not Allura, not Lance, not anybody."

"But-"

"Did he hurt you before you dueled?" Shiro felt awful probing information out of Keith like this, but he had to know. He had to understand to help Keith realize that losing the duel wasn't something that made him weak. If anything, accepting the duel despite his injured state could have proven his unstoppable drive more than anything.

"Yes," Keith said, barely above a whisper. Shiro gritted his teeth, mentally vowing to punch Lotor in the jaw if he ever saw him again. "He… used his fingers and-" Keith shivered. "And pinched a hole into-into my arm."

"Oh, Keith," said Shiro. Keith trembled. Shiro must have thought even less of him now. Taking an impossible duel while injured. Only someone weak and in need of validation of their own faulty skills would do that.

"Why did I do that?" He sobbed. "Why did I think that was a good idea?!"

"Because that's just who you are," Shiro whispered.

"But-"

"Listen to me," Shiro said. "You are not weak, okay? Losing the duel isn't a show of your strength and neither was accepting it."

Keith paused. He sniffled, tears dripping off of his chin and wetting Shiro's shoulders. He tried to remember the terms of the duel to begin with; what had made Keith agree to something he would inevitably lose.

"He said I could get out if I won," Keith said in-between sobs. "H-He said I'd get to get back to you guys if I won. I'd get to go home."

Shiro's heart wrenched. "You wanted to go home… to come back to us?"

"The whole time," Keith agreed.

Shiro cradled Keith closer to his chest. He felt sick with anger. Keith had been through so much. Far more than he should have ever experienced. He had been torn down to his rawest and most vulnerable within the span of eight days. It was quite possibly the worst thing Shiro had ever seen.

"I want you to listen to me, Keith," Shiro said softly. "Okay? Losing that duel is not your fault. Lotor knew that no one could be able to win against him if they were injured. He used that against you, so don't you dare think that anything that happened there was because of you. It was Lotor trying to break you."

"So that means-"

"No, it doesn't mean you're weak," Shiro said firmly. He remembered the transmission Lotor had made with them to discuss terms. He hardly wanted to bring it up with Keith but knew it was a necessary evil to help Keith power through. "You made an escape attempt, right? That's why you lost your arm. Was that… before or after the duel?"

Keith flinched. Clearly, the escape attempt was a whole new can of traumatized worms to open at a later time, but not right now. Keith was doing so well at the moment and Shiro didn't want to push it.

"After," Keith said. "And I-"

"No," Shiro said before Keith could call himself 'weak' again. "You did everything you could, Keith. Lotor wanted this from you. He wanted you to feel this way and it is not your fault. You are one of the strongest people I know. Not many people can look life in the eye and keep going after it kicks them down time and time again. You said yes to a duel in spite of being injured because you knew there was a chance you'd get to come back home. You took that chance. That was so, so brave, Keith. I'm so proud of you."

"But-" Keith scrambled for something to say. This felt wrong. Everything about Shiro's praise felt unwarranted. He'd done nothing. He'd accepted a losing duel and had paid the price for his arrogance. "I was stupid, I-"

"You were scared," Shiro corrected. "And still you made the bravest decision. That's incredible, Keith."

Keith broke down into sobs again. Shiro's words touched him deeply. They had started to stitch the broken pieces of him back together again. His own words called into his head, a ghost of determination and protective instincts washing through him.

"Paladin. I like the sound of that."

Red purred, brushing against his mind once again. She seemingly agreed with Shiro, filling Keith with the warmest feeling of love and belonging he'd ever had the privilege to feel. He sobbed harder. Shiro held him as he cried. His brother to the end, Shiro would not abandon Keith. Not in his greatest time of need. He was right there. He always would be.

Shiro's shirt was wet when Keith finally pulled away. He sniffed miserably, eyes red and puffy. He still looked sallow and sunken, tired beyond anything he'd ever felt, but it was him. It was him because he'd made the brave decisions in spite of fear. It didn't matter what he looked like, he was still Keith. A boy who would spend lifetimes pulling himself back together and would succeed.

There was still so much trauma, so much unspoken. There were things that would never truly fade. But Keith was no longer afraid of them. He was going to face them.

And one day, he'd be able to accept the scars molded to his flesh as a part of him.

One day.

Keith pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He flinched away from the cold metal of his arm, but refused to fear it anymore. It was as much a part of him as the memories were. He'd just have to learn to accept it. He looked up, a newfound determination in his gaze.

Shiro smiled sadly at Keith from where he knelt a few feet away. "How about that shower?"

Keith laughed watery. It was a beautiful sound, filling the room with a symphony that sang with relief as some of the tension on Keith's shoulders began to leave.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll hop in."

Shiro smiled.

Pidge was sitting with Hunk in the Green Lion's hangar when the door hissed open. They both spun around (even Green seemed startled by the sudden entrance) to see Allura standing by the door. She was moving with purpose, kaleidoscope eyes bright with determination. Pidge felt somewhat wary of what her mission was.

"Allura…?" She asked carefully.

"Pidge, Hunk," Allura said. "I need you all to help me gather the rest of the Paladins - even Keith. There is something of the utmost importance we must discuss. Together."

"Uh," Pidge exchanged a look with Hunk. "Okay…?"

"Thank you," Allura gave Pidge a smile and left the room as promptly as she had entered it. Hunk and Pidge exchanged absolutely bemused glances before following her. Hunk dusted off his pants as he walked.

Allura sped towards the medbay where Coran was still cleaning up the clothes from earlier. She would have this horrible feeling on her ship no longer. They were going to address the issue Lance had brought up. The unspoken implications of failure that came with the rebel's rescue of Keith.

Because there was nothing worse than guilt.

I'm so sorry!

Last week was so hectic, I couldn't find the same to update it. I'm nearing the end of my senior year, so things have started to get a little more difficult to manage between updates. I'm applying to colleges and finishing up the last of my final project that I need to pass in order to graduate, haha. But I think things will be calming down coming up here, so updates should resume as normal.

Sorry again!

SkyCrystalYT: Thank you so much! Welcome to ! I hope you enjoy this story as we go through it together! :D

wrenigade: I love those two dorks so much. If it's not obvious enough already, haha. And I'm living for Keith finally getting the comfort and love he deserves.

Esellyn: won't be that easy, unfortunately. Recovery is going to be a long process, and Keith won't be the same person he was before this, unfortunately. D:

Angel of the Honey Bees: Pidge and Lance are destroyers of closets now, and no one can prove me otherwise. And honestly, me too! This poor boy has been through hell and back and just having the power to choose whatever he wanted to wear and take things at his own pace probably means so much to him. I'm glad I'm pacing this well, I was so worried about that, honestly. I've never written a fic that's so recovery-centric before and it involves a lot of research and a lot of personal experience with friends who suffer from PTSD. Trying to pace things like this is so hard, but I'm glad I'm doing it well enough! :D I'm really glad you're enjoying this story so much, it's a trip from start to finish to torture and break down a character so strong and then build him back up as a person all over again. And oh, of course not. I wouldn't expect you to forget about Laynek :D He's going to be doing some very devious shit while Keith is away. I'll see you on Saturday! :D