Things weren't right on the Castleship. They hadn't been right since Shiro disappeared, and somehow having him back hasn't helped.

That didn't make sense to Lance. He'd thought that everything would go back to normal once they found their Black Paladin- Keith could go back to Red, Lance could go back to Blue, Allura could go back to piloting the Castle, everything would go back to how it was and they could all try to forget those awful few months where everyone was falling apart and terrified and being around Keith was like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

That didn't happen. Shiro was different now, so different that Black wouldn't connect with him anymore. It wasn't always obvious, but there was a certain tightness to his smile that hadn't been there before, and sometimes he would scowl or snap an order that would have everyone doing double takes.

It was the most obvious with Keith. Lance couldn't count the number of times the rest of the paladins had sat in awkward silence while Keith and Shiro fought for control of the mission. Whenever it happened Lance felt like he was being torn in half. Shiro was older, more experienced, a commanding officer, and had lead them well in the past, and Lance instinctively wanted to follow him. But on the other hand, Shiro had said he wanted Keith to lead. Lance himself had been the one to encourage him and try and help him make the right decisions.

If Shiro was still acting like himself maybe he wouldn't feel so conflicted. But he wasn't- the decisions he tried to force Keith into weren't good ones, even Lance knew that. Keith had good instincts and was getting better at leading, but things were so much harder with Shiro fighting him every step of the way.

And that was what brought them to today, with Lance prowling the halls of the Castle in search of Keith. He'd been late to another show a few hours earlier- off on another mission with the Blade- and Lance had been elected the one to go talk to him about it. All of them had given it a shot in the last few weeks, but the problem hadn't improved. After their little math talk, Lance was hoping he could get through to him.

He was almost to the bunks, just about to turn the corner, when he heard Shiro's voice and stopped dead. In the hallway just beyond, the one that had the entrance to all of the rooms, Shiro was having a conversation with someone. And he wasn't happy.

"You had a job to do." His voice burns like acid, and Lance doesn't want to think about how it would feel to be on the receiving end of that anger. "The others are putting their trust in you as their leader, and over and over again you violate that trust."

"I know." Lance isn't surprised to hear Keith's voice answer but something cold drips into his stomach all the same. Keith sounds tired and strung out- probably on his way to get some rest when Shiro cornered him. "Can we talk about this later? We… lost someone today."

Lance bites his lip and shuffles a bit closer. He knew eavesdropping was wrong and everything, but there was no way he was going to interrupt Shiro when he was pissed.

"No, we can't. I want to know why you think it's ok to leave your team hanging."

"It was just a publicity stunt, Shiro." Keith snapped. He's starting to get irritated now. "Finding Lotor is more important."

"The Coalition is important. Even if we take down Lotor we can't create anything more stable than the Galra empire without allies. Winning a war isn't just about battles."

"Well maybe you should've thought of that before you made me leader." Lance can practically see Keith's posture in his mind's eye: arms crossed, shoulders hunched in, head tilted downwards. Like he's trying to physically hold the words in and failing. Like he's making himself smaller. "You know I'm not any good at that."

"That's just an excuse." Shiro lashes back. "You always have a million excuses, and I'm sick of hearing them. I expect better of you, I've always expected better of you and yet you keep being the same disappointment you've always been."

The silence that falls then is sickly, and Lance presses a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. It's clear by Keith's lack of response that a line has been crossed and Lance waits for the apology. Waits for Shiro to say that he's sorry and he didn't mean it and his head has been hurting and things haven't been the same since his second captivity.

None of that happens.

"You need to be better, Keith."

The dam breaks. "I'm trying!" Keith shouts the words but they sound more desperate than angry, voice cracking like glass. "I'm trying, ok? I hate disappointing you and I hate letting the team down but I'm trying my best and it's not fair that you keep getting angry with me!"

"You think life is supposed to be fair? You of all people should know that's not true."

"It's not my fault the Black Lion won't accept you-"

Then there's a sound, a sickening crack, and Keith cuts off in the middle of his sentence. For a long moment Lance doesn't know what just happened, until Keith drags in a ragged breath and Lance's heart leaps into his throat.

There's no way… did Shiro just… did he…

"You'd better watch your mouth." Shiro growled in a voice that had chills rolling down Lance's spine. "You might be the Black Paladin, but I'm still your commanding officer. I took you out of your old life and I can just as easily throw you back in."

Lance, of course, has no idea what he's talking about. Keith had never told any of them jack shit about his past, but whatever it was like must've been awful because Keith doesn't say anything in his own defense. There's quiet until footsteps eventually echo off the floor; Shiro, walking away in the opposite direction. And Lance…

Lance is frozen. He has no idea what to do, so he just inches forward until he can peek around the corner, just to make sure Keith is alright. The other boy is still in his Marmora gear, leaning up against the wall with a stunned expression. His fingers lightly prod at his left cheek, which was bright red, and the realization that his suspicion had been correct nearly has Lance retching right there.

He must have backhanded him with his human hand. The thought is disconnected and slightly hysterical. The Galra one would've broken his cheekbone.

Keith slowly slid to the floor with a quiet thump, fingers still trembling along his jaw and staring at nothing. Lance can't move, can't speak, can't do anything because this isn't right. The Shiro he knew was gentle, so gentle, more than aware of the power his body contained and always afraid of abusing it. The Shiro he knew would never hit any of his teammates, especially not Keith, never Keith.

He was still standing there several minutes later when Keith's face crumpled. Without a sound he scrambles to his feet and darts into his bedroom, a quiet beep issuing from the door when the lock engaged.

Lance doesn't move for another hour.

Keith makes himself scarce for a week. Other than mandated group time and missions Lance can't track him down, despite his best efforts. Keith has abandoned all of his usual haunts and found himself somewhere to hide, likely deep in the Castle where no one could find him. Where Shiro couldn't find him- and there's so much wrong in that sentence it makes Lance's head spin trying to unpack it all.

Lance has no idea if it's happened again. All he knows is what he can see during the few times they are around each other. During missions Keith no longer argues with Shiro's decisions, just goes along with them even if they're bad calls. Over the course of that week those choices put Pidge in a pod twice, and Keith always apologized and kept watch over the infirmary as though it was his fault. During group training and meal times Keith hardly said a word, and Lance noticed him watching Shiro out of his periphery, as though expecting him to strike at any moment.

It made Lance sick, watching fiery Keith die down to embers and ash in the presence of someone he clearly cared about so deeply. Shiro wasn't acting any differently, and the worst part was Lance had no idea how to deal with this situation. Should he talk to Keith? Should he tell Allura what he saw? Hell, would anyone even believe him if he said anything? The only thing he knew for sure was that he absolutely couldn't approach Shiro. That would be a recipe for an even greater disaster.

A week and two days after the incident, Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora, and Lance can't even say he's surprised. He'd missed another show that afternoon, and watching how Shiro had prowled around the control room while they waited for him to return made Lance want to turn tail and run too.

He'd never been afraid of Shiro before. Even when he was having his flashbacks, even when he was angry in battle and tearing Galra soldiers limb from limb, even when they'd first met and he'd shaken that Galra hand, he'd never felt afraid. Until now. Now he's very, very afraid. He can only imagine how Keith felt.

He doesn't have the courage to say anything to Keith then, not in front of Shiro, but later that night he finds the tablet he'd been given and selects Keith's connection. He's anxious. He doesn't know what he's going to say, how he's going to explain that he saw what happened and didn't say anything for a week and a half, but he knows he can't just let this go unaddressed any longer.

Keith picks up on the second ring, mouth twisted in irritation. "Lance, I literally just left, what could you possibly need? Already bored without someone to make fun of?"

The temptation to fall back into their usual banter almost overwhelms him. It would be so much easier to just let it go, just to pretend he'd never seen anything. But he can't forget that look on Keith's face when he'd been sitting against the wall. Stunned, sad, resigned. He never wanted to see that expression ever again.

"No, this is important." Lance awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, then decides to just go for it. Keith never liked playing word games. "Look, I saw what happened between you and Shiro."

Keith's face goes carefully blank. It's a practiced expression, a mask he slips on with ease and it makes Lance want to cry.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb. I saw him hit you, man."

Keith recoiled from the screen and dropped his gaze off to the side. Lance wishes with all of his soul that Keith hadn't left so that he could give him a hug.

"Keith, it's-"

"It was my fault." Keith interrupted. He still won't look at the screen. "It's not the first time."

Lance's eyebrows jumped. "It's not the first time Shiro has-"

"Not Shiro!" He looks almost offended at the suggestion, even though Shiro hurting him was exactly what they were discussing. "Just… other people. I talk shit and then I get hit. Happened at the Garrison all the time." He shrugged, and his face was still blank, but there was tension in his shoulders that said he knew there was a difference.

"There's a difference," He began slowly, "Between fights at school and being hit by someone with authority over you."

"I know the difference." Keith snapped, hunching down and crossing his arms. "I've had both. And it's still usually my own damn fault."

The words call back something Shiro had said, that line about Keith's old life, and suddenly his throat is closing up. Shiro wasn't the first one.

"That's not-"

"I have to go. I have a mission." Keith ends the call before Lance can get a word in edgewise, and this time he does cry. Tears of frustration and confusion, because he doesn't know how to help Keith, especially when he doesn't want it.

After a few minutes he pulls himself together and sits back in his chair with a deep breath. He couldn't give up, he had to think carefully about this. Now that his mind was somewhat clearer after letting everything out, he was beginning to realize that going to Keith about it had been a mistake. Keith was the victim here, how was he supposed to do anything about it? No, the problem here was Shiro- Shiro, who had been so different since his second captivity.

None of them knew why, they'd all actively put it out of their minds, tried not to think about it because it hurt to think that the gentle Shiro they'd all become so attached to was gone forever. None of them knew why… except the Black Lion, who hadn't moved so much as an inch when Shiro had tried to pilot her again.

Ten minutes later he was in Black's hangar, small and insignificant before her imposing majesty. He took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped up to the lion, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey, Black." There is no answer from the lion, but a prickle runs over his skin just the same. A prickle that says disapproval.

"No, I know that you didn't choose me. I get it. That's not what I'm here for. This is about Shiro."

A low growl resounded through the room at the mention of the Black Paladin. Lance can't quite decipher what the growl means, it's not accompanied by any images or feelings like he got from Red or Blue. But it certainly means something, and that's enough of a confidence boost for him to keep going.

"Something's different about him. You know it, you were the first one to feel it. It's why you won't let him pilot you anymore."

With a slight hiss of hydraulics, Black lowered her head a bit. Before she'd been staring over him at the far wall, the way the lions normally were when parked, but now she was tilted downwards, looking straight at him. Her eyes gleamed gold. Lance gulped.

"Look, whatever's up with him, I don't think it's good for the team. People are getting hurt. If something's wrong with Shiro, if you know what it is, I want to help. Please."

Silence falls through the hangar. There's something quivering in the air— almost like the lion is considering— before she finally moves. Her head descended all the way to the floor and her jaw opened.

As he ascends the ramp, Lance smiles to himself and whispers, "Thank you."

The interior of the cabin is dark and still, the same way it had been when they'd been presenting themselves as candidates for the position of Black Paladin. There's a certain element of power in it, of foreboding, the same one that had pressed in on him back then and made him puff up in an effort to stave it off. Now he relaxes into it, lets the lion in as much as he can without a proper bond. He can feel Black in his mind, skimming over it like a book, brushing past the low hum of Red and his remaining connection to Blue.

The presence recedes, apparently content with what it found there, and Lance perches himself in the pilot seat with none of the false bravado of last time. He rolls his shoulders and tried to relax as best he could. Just like with Red and Blue, he tentatively opened his mind to the Lion. At first there's nothing, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Come on." Lance murmured. "Come on, Black. Let me in. I won't stay."

Black nudged at his mind, just barely, and Lance let out a gasp. Even that little brush was overwhelming. It sent stardust singing through his veins and his chest felt like it was containing an entire nebula that was fighting to expand through his skin. It was nothing like Blue's ocean or Red's inferno. It was so much more intense, and he quickly realized that if this was what it felt like to pilot Black he didn't envy Shiro or Keith all that much.

As it turned out that brush was merely a warning, and a second later Black was reaching out for him properly. She was fathomless, bottomless, and before he could even figure out when he'd closed his eyes everything was dark and he was in free fall.

He landed hard on his face. For a moment he just laid there, feeling fine dust pressing into his cheek before he forced himself to roll onto his back with a groan.

"Black, what the hell?" He'd been expecting a mental discussion, maybe a little imagery thrown in, not to be yeeted somewhere without any warning. Then he opened his eyes and his breath caught.

Space fanned out above him, endless and dark. Galaxies and stars scattered across the velvet backdrop of the void, purples and pinks swirling into clouds of drifting dust. In the corner of his eye to his left he could see two distinct stars, one red and one blue, orbiting around each other.

Slowly, he sat up. The ground he was on reminded him of Earth's moon- dusty, barren, covered in craters- only a dark maroon rather than gray.

Ok, so he wasn't in the Castle anymore. Black had clearly taken him somewhere, but... Wait. He hadn't been wearing his armor when he left, and this place didn't seem to have an atmosphere-

Frantic, he leapt to his feet and began to pat himself down, only to let out a surprised yelp when he saw his body. He'd turned slightly see through, like a ghost, and a light blue glow lit the space a few inches around his body. He waved a hand in front of his face, testing, but the glow didn't shake off.

Focus, Paladin.

Black's voice echoed through the void, making Lance cringe and shake himself. Right, right, he was here for a reason.

Connect with him.

Lance closed his eyes, a little disappointed to block out the amazing view, and pictured Shiro. The old Shiro, with his eyes that crinkled when he smiled and that gentle voice he used when one of them was upset and the complete solemnity on his face when he'd dropped to one knee to demonstrate his version of laser sounds. A warmth curled in his chest.

"Lance!"

Wait, what, no way…

His eyes shot open, and to his surprise he was correct. That had been Shiro's voice, and here he was standing right in front of him. He looked different: He wore his Paladin armor with his old buzzcut, and he was opaque and glowing like Lance, only his glow was purple. The look on his face was confused and terrified as he reached out a hand towards Lance.

"Lance, what are you-" His form shimmered, then he vanished into thin air as if he'd never been there. Lance mumbled a curse and slammed his eyes shut, focusing again on that mental image he had of Shiro. Using the same techniques he had practiced on the training deck with the others, he envisioned a rope coiling around that image, pulling Shiro closer to him inch by inch.

Something else tugged on the rope. It was Black, trying to help, and in a matter of seconds Shiro's voice was ringing across the barren planet again.

"-nce, what are you doing here? How did you get here?"

Lance blinked his eyes open slowly, trying his best to maintain his tentative connection and find something to say at the same time.

"Uh, where even is here?"

"It's the Astral Plane." Said the vision of Shiro, as if that was supposed to explain anything, and took a step forward. Lance, surprisingly enough for the last week or so, wasn't afraid. The warmth hadn't left him and it reassured him- whatever was wrong with Shiro wasn't affecting him here. He was safe here. "What's going on?"

"I asked Black to bring me." His hands fisted into his jeans. "You… you've been acting weird, and I wanted to-"

"Wait, what?" Shiro tilted his head, bangs flopping into his eyes, and Lance is baffled. This Shiro was so much different than the one he'd been seeing recently. It was like nothing had changed at all. "What do you mean I've been acting weird? I've been…" Suddenly he frowns, that look of terror resurfacing, and he surges forward to seize Lance by the shoulders.

The boy half expects him to go right through, but shockingly the hold was as firm as it would have been in real life.

"Listen to me." The words are fierce, but they aren't an order. They're a plea, and Lance finds himself nodding rapidly without thinking about it. "I don't know who you found, but whoever it is it's not me. You understand, Lance? I've been here since the battle with Zarkon."

"What?" Lance squeaks.

"I don't know what happened." Shiro releases him and steps back, hands hanging uselessly at his sides. "We were fighting, I unlocked Black's wings, then I passed out and when I woke up I was here. I don't know why Black brought me here and she won't tell me." He flicks his eyes back up to Lance's wide ones. "How long has it been?"

"Uh, I think, um, about six months? Maybe?"

Shiro scowls like he wants to swear, and it's a shock like ice cold water seeing that expression on his face and realizing it looks completely different that it had only a day ago in the Castle.

"Shit." Lance breathed out as the pieces clicked together. "Shit. Shiro, man, we gotta get you outta here. Whoever we found, the imposter, they're not good for the team."

Shiro's expression shifts again, this time to worry. "What do you mean? Has he hurt anybody?"

Lance visibly cringes at the question. "Y-yeah, kind of. The last couple of battles Pidge has wound up in a pod." Shiro's hands clench at his sides and Lance almost chickens out of telling him everything. Almost. "And he hit Keith."

There's a tense pause, the calm before the storm, then Shiro shatters. Or more accurately, his connection does, and his form shimmers into nothing. The next time Lance blinks he's back in the Black Lion's cockpit, disoriented and with his head spinning.

Lance mechanically checks to make sure all of his limbs are still in the right place. His brain isn't quite cooperating with him.

What the hell what the hell what the hell

Black growls underneath him. He can't hear her voice anymore like he had in the void, but the meaning is clear.

Focus.

"Right, right." He mumbled to himself, taking a deep breath and pushing his hair back. "Gotta find Allura."

"Lance, are you quite certain?" Allura is just standing there at the door to her bedroom, a cautious and curious look on her face, and Lance is about ready to tear his hair out.

"Yes! I swear to you— I talked to Black and she took me to the Astral Plane and Shiro was there and—" He cut off abruptly at the exasperated tilt to Allura's mouth and sighs. "Look, maybe I'm going crazy, but can't you just check? Please?"

Allura purses her lips, but after a tense moment gives a relenting nod.

"Alright Lance, but if this turns out to be a prank I will be very cross."

Yes, finally!

Lance is practically vibrating on the way down to the hangar, barely restraining himself from grabbing Allura's wrist to haul her along behind. After seemingly an eon they reach the hangar, both of them surprised to find the Black Lion crouched down, head even with the floor. Her jaw is closed, but her eyes gleamed gold, and a low rumble filled the room when they stepped inside. Beckoning.

Allura approached, face smoothing over into something intrigued, as Lance hung back and held his breath. The Princess raised a cautious hand to the metal nose of the lion, splaying her fingers over the yellow triangle, and looked up into Black's glowing eyes.

"Black?" She murmured ever so quietly. "What's—" With a sudden gasp, she doubled over, hand still glued to the nose of the lion. Lance cried her name in concern and started forward, only for Allura to hold out her other hand to cease his movement.

When she looked up again, tears were running down her cheeks.

"Shiro," She murmured, and Lance felt hope rising in his chest. "Shiro, I can hear you. I am so sorry."

With a sniffle, she turned towards Lance, the purple pupils of her eyes glowing slightly. "Lance, how did you know?"

Lance dropped his eyes to the floor, suddenly ashamed with that he was about to say. He really should have spoken up sooner, shouldn't have let this go on for so long.

"I… about a week ago… I saw him hit Keith."

Allura sucked in a breath, eyes widening in simultaneous rage and horror. Then, with her jaw clenched tight, she pivoted back to the Black Lion and planted her other hand on her nose.

"Hold on, Shiro. I'm going to get you out." With that her hands began to glow violet, and Lance darted forward again to catch her arm.

"Allura, hold on! How are you going to pull him out of the Astral Plane? Does he even have a body to come back to? Do you even know how to do this?"

"I will build him a new body out of quintessence." Allura said, half to herself. "Lance, please summon the others— not Shiro, obviously— and send a hail to the Blade requesting Keith return as soon as possible."

Lance really didn't have any other choice but to obey.

The halls of the Castle were quiet, the sound of Keith's footsteps echoing back at him. It had been several vargas since Keith had returned from his first Blade mission to find the urgent summons from the Castle waiting for him. Before the quiet wouldn't have bothered him; the place was huge and there were only seven people to fill the space.

But ever since he'd shown how talented he was at making people hate him, the quiet had felt foreboding. Quiet wasn't peaceful, it was the calm before the storm, it was people pausing just around a corner before storming around it, it was a heavy frown before a hand came flying. The quiet wasn't safe anymore.

And he hated it. He hated being afraid, because really, did he have the right? If even the one person who'd never given up on him had been forced to resort to violence, didn't he deserve it? If even Shiro had been pushed to this… surely the problem was with him, not them.

Despite his own rebukes, his stomach continued to twist with nerves. Why would the others be calling him back so soon, especially after he disappointed all of them for the millionth time? Were they going to follow Shiro's example and keep trying to shove him into a mold he didn't fit? Would they hurt him too?

The possibility made him want to turn and run. But he didn't. He kept walking, making his way towards the bridge, and tried to stamp down the fear.

"Keith?"

He couldn't help jumping out of his skin at the sudden voice, and he couldn't help the cold that swept over him when he turned to see Shiro at the end of the hallway. He didn't look angry, merely confused, but Keith felt the adrenaline leaking into his veins regardless, ready to kick him into fight or flight mode at the slightest indication that he'd raised Shiro's ire.

"What are you doing here?" He approached, and Keith had to tighten his muscles until they hurt to keep from backing away.

"I got a message." He said, keeping his eyes focused on Shiro's chin. "The others said it was urgent and I had to come back right away. What happened?"

He dared a glance at Shiro's eyes, only to see a furrowed brow, and his gaze skittered away.

Shiro sighed and Keith's shoulders hitched up around his ears.

"Don't do this, Keith." He sounded exasperated, which only made his blood run colder. "Don't make me the bad guy here. You know what's expected of you, it's not my fault you don't respond to anything else."

Shiro, of course, was right. It wasn't his fault, it was Keith's. And it was Keith's fault for being afraid, but he couldn't help it. How could he, when all he could think about was the sight of Shiro's face twisting in rage and the feeling of his hand, the way he had promised never to do. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make his stomach stop roiling or make the goosebumps stop erupting across his skin.

"Sorry." He tried, hoping the apology would appease Shiro, but his arms crossed over his chest and Keith's hands tightened into fists. He hated this, Shiro didn't want him to be afraid, it was just going to make him angry, but that fact only made Keith more scared and this cycle was only going to be broken one way.

"Keith, enough." Shiro said, voice hard, and Keith flinched. Which of course only made it worse. "Quit cowering, it's pathetic."

"I'm sorry." Keith's voice cracked on the final syllable. Shiro took a step forward and adrenaline kicked in Keith's chest- gasoline on an open flame- sending him scrambling back until his back hit the wall. And like a cheetah, Shiro couldn't help but chase prey that ran, and in moments Keith found himself pinned to the wall with Shiro's metal forearm over his chest to keep him there.

His instincts screamed at him; fight or flight, fight or flight, but he couldn't fight Shiro, he couldn't hurt Shiro, and he couldn't get away from him either.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped out. Shiro's eyes only grew angrier, but he didn't know what else to do, what else he could say. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

Shiro didn't say anything, merely shoved forward, making Keith's head snap backwards and hit the wall. Keith hissed in a breath, long since having learned not to make sound when someone hurt him because that would only make it worse, and watched with spotty vision as Shiro's shoulder began to move. He braced himself for the strike, tightened his muscles against the expected pain and turned his head away, just in case.

It never came. Instead a voice bellowed down the hallway, followed by a storm of harried footsteps.

"Get away from him!"

Then there was a white flash, and Shiro was being tackled off of him.

The first thing Lance did was race for Keith, who had slid down the wall with a shocked, detached expression. Pidge followed, the two of them exchanging heartbroken glances when Keith initially flinched away from their hands. Hunk and Allura rushed further down the hall to form a protective barrier between the three of them and the fight, while Coran lingered at the back.

The last few hours had been grueling. Armed with scans of the human body from the cryopods, Allura had painstakingly constructed a new body for Shiro out of quintessence, piece by piece, cell by cell. She'd barely had enough strength left at the end to pull Shiro out of Black and put him into the new body, collapsing just as Shiro sat bolt upright, coughing his new lungs out.

They'd waited a few minutes, let him refigure out how to breathe, acquaint himself with the fact that he now had two flesh arms again, and then they'd handed him one of the white cryosuits to put on before swarming him in a group hug.

His hair was entirely white now, which along with the lack of metal arm was one of the few things to distinguish him from the Other Shiro who he'd tackled off of Keith.

Keith was trembling like a leaf, brow furrowing in confusion at the glances of the fight he could see past Allura and Hunk.

"What is happening?" He whispered hoarsely to no one in particular. Pidge tightened her grip around his waist and said nothing, leaving Lance to answer.

"It's ok. Everything's gonna be ok."

"Shiro, enough!" Allura sprang forward into the fray, seizing Shiro by his shoulder and hauling him off of the clone, who was now sporting several swelling red bruises. Allura tossed him back against the wall, then moves to pin the clone of Shiro to the floor while Hunk went to Shiro, who still looked like he was contemplating murder.

"He trusted you!" His face was twisted in heartbroken rage. "He trusted you and you hurt him!"

Lance chances a glance at Keith's face, only to be met by wide eyes and pale skin. Alright, the time for theatrics was over. They had to get this situation under control before Keith had a complete breakdown.

"Hey, Allura! I have an idea!"

Half an hour later the team was gathered in the lounge. Allura had easily subdued the (very confused) Clone Shiro and stuck him in a cryopod, and now the Actual Shiro was in the lounge with them, standing near the door opposite Keith. The others had clustered themselves on the couches, but Keith had opted to stand near the door, back to the wall and arms crossed protectively over his chest.

Shiro had just finished telling the story of how Black had zapped him to the Astral Plane, how Lance had found him, how Allura pulled him out and into a new body, and now a tense silence was descending over the room. Keith had his head tipped to the floor to hide his face behind his hair, unwilling to acknowledge the fact that everyone was watching him.

"Keith… I'm so sorry."

Shiro's words hung heavy in the air for a moment. Keith shifted just a bit, adjusted his stance, then suddenly darted across the room and threw himself at Shiro.

Lance had seen them hug before. Usually it was one of those bro type hugs- hand clasped in the middle, one arm over the shoulder. This time Keith wound himself around Shiro's chest like an octopus and hung on for dear life, and Shiro reciprocated, burying his face into Keith's hair and closing his eyes like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry." He murmured again, and everyone in the room saw Keith's shoulders shake.

"I thought it was my fault." The quiet confession is enough to make tears spring to Lance's eyes, and he's not the only one. Shiro sniffles and clutches Keith tighter to his chest.

"It's not your fault, otouto."

That was when Keith finally broke and let himself cry.