I do not own Voltron or anything even remotely associated with it. Heaven knows if I did, I would still have the toys. Huzzah! It's the next flashback! There will be much rejoicing throughout the land, I'm sure. ;) I apologize again for the long delay. I meant to get this one up sooner but things intervened, mainly KH2, so you'll have to forgive me. At least it's long! A funny side note: I wasn't thinking at one point and typed the name of KH2's hero instead of Pidge. Maybe I shouldn't listen to the soundtrack while I write this.

The Inquest

Head buried in his hands, Keith sat on the edge of the uncomfortable chair provided for him in the narrow hallway serving as a waiting room. Any order that had once existed in his hair was now gone, the result of too many fingers running through it and though he had the presence of mind to reflect that the committee would probably notice his unkempt state and mark it against him, he didn't care. This entire thing was a joke anyway. He knew it was necessary, knew that despite everything Lotor had done he was still a prince of a foreign nation and his death warranted an investigation, but he still resented it. He resented the implication, however slight, that Lotor's death had been intentional on his part and not a necessity. He supposed part of it was just paranoia, or perhaps the lingering guilt that Lotor had died at his hands that made him suspect that committee was trying to pin his death on him but it certainly seemed that way. Even Coran had been surprised by the summons to one of GG's neutral negotiation points after their report of the events had been received. The elder man's reaction alone had been enough to trigger Keith's suspicions. They had only been reaffirmed upon their arrival when the Voltron Force had been separated and kept isolated from each other right up until the time of questioning. Keith hadn't seen or heard from any of his companions, save Coran who was allowed to speak to all of them simply due to his minimal role in the whole affair, for over twenty-four hours. Right now he would do anything just to hear one of Lance's wise-cracks or suffer under one of Pidge's observations. Hunk's open friendly face would be a relief to see and Allura...Allura would either break or save him. Of them all, she had been the first to be questioned and thus far the longest. It was hardly surprising; next to himself, her role had been the most pivotal and she had spent the most time with Lotor. Keith's fists clenched in memory against the sides of his head and it was with some effort that he managed to loosen them again. There was no sense in continuing to regret that it had ever happened, it had happened and there was no changing it. He had had no choice; none of them had and yet...he was afraid that the committee was right to wonder if they had chosen wisely. What was taking Lance so long! He was the only one left. Coran had been kind enough to come in and tell him when each of his teammates had finished. If Lance would stop being so glib as Keith was certain he was being, then his hell could begin and the sooner it began, the sooner it would all be over and done with.

Almost as if he had willed it, the door to the waiting room opened to reveal the extremely strained features of Coran. Keith could have sworn the gray hairs on his head were multiplying by the hour. In all his time on Arus he had never seen the man appear as haggard and as old as he did now and Coran was still young by most accounts. Judging by the look on Coran's face, Keith guessed he didn't look much better and the smile he tried to send the older man failed before it even reached his lips.

"They're ready for you," was all Coran said, giving him one last look before he turned away from the door with a strain that nearly equaled Keith's own. Eyes widening, Keith stared into space for several moments, unable to comprehend anything but the enormity of what lay before him. It will be all right, he repeated to himself, the voice not nearly as certain as it had been a few day's ago but reassuring nevertheless. He stretched and rose, running his fingers through his hair one last time even though there was no saving it and following the path Coran had taken. Part of him was almost relieved that it was his time to speak while another was wishing he was still in that room, dreading what was to come. The moment he stepped outside the door he was flanked by two GG guards, their stoic faces giving him no indication of what lay ahead. Before him, Coran led the way, his steps slightly unsteady as he led the fifth and final member of the Voltron Force to the questioning room. Following his example, Keith kept his eyes straight ahead, running through the answers he and Lance had so painstakingly gone over the past three days. Whether rightly or wrongly, both he and his second had determined they didn't want to be caught off-guard by anything the committee might think to ask them and so they had compiled a list of questions, enlisting the other force members for help as well, and preparing their answers. Above all, Keith wanted to remain emotionless while they were questioning him. Emotion was what they were looking for and emotion would only betray him, whether it was anger or something else. Ahead of him Coran came to an abrupt halt and it was all Keith could do to keep from colliding with him.

"Through here. Good luck," Coran said, turning aside with as little ceremony as possible. Squaring his shoulders, Keith forced himself not to look to the elder man for reassurance and boldly walked through the doors. He was on his own now, just as he had been before the Academy, before Voltron...he would be fine. There was nothing the committee could do to him that hadn't already been done. Or so he told himself.

Whatever reservations he might have had were nonexistent in his features, however, as soon as he stepped inside. What the panel chosen to interrogate him saw was a young man of twenty-five who looked as if he had aged ten years in two days, unkempt hair aside. There was a weariness to the set of his shoulders that overshadowed the pride that kept them rigid, lines already prominent on the features that should have been youthful. And within his eyes, though dark and seemingly blank, there was a sense of worldliness that no twenty-five year old had any business knowing. It was disarming and a look or two was unconsciously exchanged between several committee members. Seated at a long table at the far corner of the room, there were seven of them in all, one to represent a specific section of the galaxy and the head of GG itself. This man alone was the one that Keith recognized though he would not have counted him as a friendly face, despite his being hand-picked by the man to bring back Voltron in the first place. Three of the other six faces were of alien races, one of them a woman who looked back at him with eyes that were both mildly appraising and mocking at the same time. She was not the one who caught his attention, however, though her own features were strangely pleasing to the eye. It was the man seated at one end of the table whose gaze locked with his own, a gaze that was strangely shaped and yellow hued in the way only eyes from Planet Doom could be. If they had intended to shock him, they had succeeded but he gave no outward indication of it save for the slightest twitch of his brows. More difficult to ignore was the man's open animosity towards him; he was practically sneering just as Lotor always had and it was more than unsettling. Coming to a stop in front of the single hard-backed chair placed in the middle of the room, Keith clasped his hands behind his back and waited.

"Captain Keith of the Voltron Force, pilot of the Black Lion," the head of GG finally spoke, his voice deeper than that of most men and echoing throughout the stillness of the interrogation room.

"Yes," Keith said only, nodding his head slightly.

"You are aware that from the moment you stepped into this room your actions were being recorded in both visual and audio format."

"Yes."

"You are also aware that either transcript of this session will and can be used not only to determine today's verdict but in any other case should the need arise."

"Yes."

"Then sit, Captain, so we may proceed."

"I would prefer to stand, if it does not bother the committee, Sir."

The man arched a bushy brow at Keith and leveled him with one of the stares that sent the younger cadets who had the misfortune to cross his path scrambling for cover. Keith didn't even blink.

"Captain, the questions we intend to ask require thorough answers and are probably going to take a long time to answer..."

"If I become I tired, I will sit, Sir, but for now, I prefer to stand," Keith interrupted smoothly, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. The man scowled and after casting a look at his fellow committee members, heaved a sigh and said,

"Very well. The committee finds no fault with your...unusual preference. You will forgive us for introducing ourselves, according to procedure. Though you and I have already met more than once, I am Haldon Falk, Commander of GG."

"Reginald Barrington."

"Skiald Narin."

"Jackson Cairn."

"Windt Merk."

"Malecia Farriwy," this was the alien woman, her voice strangely melodic and only enhancing her attraction even to the man usually christened "the monk" by his peers.

"Zalor...I have no last name. It is not customary among my people to bother with such...things," this, naturally, was the man who could only be from Doom. Meeting his slitted yellow gaze, Keith took in the blue skin that was not as pale as Lotor's but neither as dark as Zarkon's or Yurak's with what he hoped was a neutral expression. One corner of Zalor's mouth twitched and one of his silver colored brows arched as he added, "Before we proceed, Captain, you should know that I am what you humans would call a "cousin" of sorts to Lotor, son of Zarkon. Under different circumstances, you and I might have been rivals and my "cousin" the one to sit here in judgement of you today." Folding his arms across the table's surface, Zalor looked back at Keith with an ever increasingly mocking expression. Again Keith refused to give him the satisfaction of appearing rattled even though part of him was increasingly disturbed by the man's presence. They had studied his team well. Each member of the committee had been carefully chosen, he had no doubt. The woman, Malecia, was meant to test Lance as surely as he breathed, Windt Merk was so clearly a scholar to rival even Pidge's high aspirations he could only be meant as the youngest member's counter, Hunk would undoubtedly be the most rattled by Skiald Narin who looked like no being Keith had ever seen before(he wasn't even certain what Skiald had used to speak with, his mouth was so hidden, if he even had one)and Reginald Barrington was the very picture of decorum, something Allura had always clashed with. But Zalor, Zalor was his and his alone.

"As you know, Captain, we have already heard your teammates' testimony. Four accounts, all startlingly similar in their descriptions of what happened, give or take a few personal details. Either you are all exceedingly well-rehearsed, or your team has an exceptional love for you. Your second-in-command was so matter-of-fact with his answers, we thought he might have prepared them. I trust you haven't made the same mistake."

"No, Sir," Keith replied, still meeting Falk's gaze as if it meant nothing at all while

silently cursing Lance's usual bravado for getting the both of them into trouble, as always.

"Good. Now, Captain, if you could please tell us of the circumstances that brought you to that cave in the first place."

"It was a hostage situation. Planet Arus was hosting an important conference among several of the galaxy's leaders. It was chosen because it was thought to be the safest location because of Voltron. Not surprisingly there was an attack from planet Doom a few days before the conference was scheduled to begin. With the aid of Voltron, we defeated them easily and thought the threat was over. We were unaware at the time that the attack was only a decoy to lure us off guard and that Lotor was already on the planet and had been for some time.

"Using a magical disguise, Lotor infiltrated the conference and managed to kidnap five of its attendees. By the time we realized the danger, he had already ferreted them away to an unknown location and was making ransom demands."

"And what were his demands, Captain?"

"The same demands he always had, Sir."

"Refresh our memories," Falk said, spreading his hands wide. Staring straight ahead at some nonexistent point, Keith answered slowly,

"That we give him Princess Allura in exchange for the hostages and make no attempt to rescue her. He was generous enough to give us three days to decide what we wished to do and after the three days had passed, he would begin killing his hostages, one a day, until he got what he wanted."

"Why not use the three days to search for him and avoid the situation altogether?" This came from Windt Merk, his fingertips tapping together as he looked quizzically at Keith. Never had the Voltron Captain felt more like some specimen trapped under a magnifying glass.

"Lotor had thought of that. Among his stipulations he included that if he caught so much of a glimpse of a Lion or any other type of craft outside his hideout, he wouldn't hesitate to kill all the hostages."

"How were you certain he even had the hostages with him?" Merk continued to question, his study of Keith only intensifying.

"He appeared to us in one of his ships and had brought one of them along. He also had a video transmission of the others tied up in some unknown location."

"You mentioned stipulations. Other than forbidding you to search for him, what else did he wish?" Skiald asked from his nonexistent mouth.

"In order to ensure that we didn't come after Princess Allura should we decide to hand her over, he would only release one hostage per day, giving him at least five days to test our resolve."

"And you agreed to this?" Malecia interjected, throwing one of her appraising looks Keith's way. Wanting desperately to roll his eyes(did she think she was another Lance?), Keith threw her a wry smile and responded,

"We had no choice. To refuse was to risk the death of another planet's highest official. We had conferences with them, of course, and very little sleep was gotten by any of us during those three days. In the end, we decided that we would have to go along with him in order to have any hope of getting the hostages back."

"What made you so certain Lotor would kill the hostages? If Zalor will forgive my saying this, I was under the impression that the late Doom Prince was full of more bluster than action," Malecia continued, throwing one of her glances at Zalor. The alien man only smirked in response and replied,

"Say what you wish about my cousin, Malecia. I have never agreed with his pursuits, political or romantic."

"Among the hostages was a retainer, a servant at the palace who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when Lotor came for the hostages. Lotor killed her to prove his point." Despite his own desire to remain calm, Keith felt his jaw clenching at the thought of the innocent woman Lotor had senselessly murdered. Cilla had been doing nothing wrong and her life was over now, all because she had been in Lotor's way.

"And whose decision was it exactly to hand her over to such a diabolical killer? Yours? Your teams?" Malecia continued, still idly studying her fingernails.

"Princess Allura's."

"You were against it?" The room grew even quieter and Keith counted to ten silently before answering in a level tone,

"None of us wanted her to, but I did not oppose her decision."

"And what precisely were your objections, Captain?" Zalor sneered, his eyes emitting a challenge when Keith felt compelled to look at him. Brows drawing together, Keith swallowed back what he really wanted to say and spoke again in the same level tone,

"My objections stemmed from her handing herself over to a man who had always made his true intentions where she was concerned very clear. By agreeing to his terms, she was also agreeing to be alone with him for at least five days and possibly to more than what she bargained for."

"What is the phrase, I can never remember it. You believed he would...take advantage of her?" Zalor continued, his lips twitching so violently it was clear he wanted nothing other than to laugh.

"Among other things, yes."

"And this was more important to you than her risking her life?"

"Lotor never would have harmed Princess Allura," Keith said quickly, the sincerity in his voice startling the committee members. After exchanging several glances, Falk was the first one to speak among them,

"According to you this man was a cold-blooded killer and yet you can say with utter conviction that he wouldn't have harmed the Princess?"

"He wouldn't have harmed her. By giving her to him, I had no fear for her life."

"But you did for her virginity," Zalor threw in lazily. A silence heavier than the one that had passed before filled the room as Keith locked gazes with the alien man, refusing to falter even in the slightest. Chuckling under his breath, Zalor shook his head and turned away, drumming his fingers against the tabletop.

"How noble of you, Captain. Tell me, did your teammates share your concern for the Princess'...welfare?"

"Yes."

"Even the fledgling?"

"A seventeen year old is hardly a fledgling."

"And yet not quite a man, even by your standards. All four of you were worried only that she might not return...as pure as she once was?"

"Is there a reason for this line of questioning?" Keith interjected, looking to Falk for confirmation. The man only looked blankly back at him. Again Zalor chuckled and folded his arms as he said,

"I believe I am trying to establish motive, Captain."

"I had no motive."

"Really." Again their gazes locked and Keith soon found himself wishing that he could throttle Zalor. His expression did not change, however, while the alien man's brows continued to arch and his lips curved into what was becoming a familiar smirk.

"Shall we return to the matter at hand, gentlemen?" Falk said after far too many minutes had passed. From Keith and Zalor, still locked in their stare-down, there were two curt nods and Falk sighed. "We have established that you agreed to give Prince Lotor Princess Allura and that it was her decision. Would it also be correct to assume that you had no intention of letting him keep her beyond the time it took to regain the hostages?"

"Yes, Sir. The plan was to complete the exchange and to wait a day, possibly two, so that Lotor's guard would be down, however slightly."

"And how were you going to find her if his location was so secret?" Reginald Barrington broke in, speaking for the first time. Keith's gaze left Zalor's to acknowledge him as he answered,

"The 'fledgling' came up with an advanced sort of tracking device, one that could be implanted just under the surface of the skin and still remain undetected. Princess Allura agreed to its placement and chose its location herself." Several glances again passed between the members of the committee and Keith's mouth tightened in spite of himself. Yes, she had chosen the location and none of them had argued with her over it. She was scarred now due to its improper removal, yet another thing he had to add to his conscience.

"Certainly that was not the whole of your plan?"

"No, Sir. Our plan was to use the five days of returning hostages to scout for him. For each one Lotor specified a different location on Arus. We used the locations he gave us and came up with a general area where we believed he might be. On the sixth day, we appeared to go about our business as usual but one of us was missing. We found a decoy Pidge and sent the real one, with a wig and casual clothes, out scouting for Lotor's location. On the seventh day, we went out ourselves, using a decoy Voltron Force."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain, but aren't the Lions rather particular in who flies them?" Barrington interrupted again, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.

"Yes."

"Then how was it so simple for you to find a decoy team?"

"It wasn't simple. The Lions can also be controlled by the castle's computer, but not at any great distance or amount of time. The pilot of the Black Lion can also control the other four, but with the same limitation. We really needed only one pilot, the others served only as passengers and we had that."

"Your former teammate, Sven," Falk said quietly. Keith nodded, the image of his once close friend flickering into view. Sven's role had been minimal enough that his testimony was given electronically; he envied him that.

"Yes. Under the cover of the decoy, we made our way to the cave in question."

"Pardon me, Captain, but here is where things start to get a little confusing for us. Exactly why did you decide to go in individually and not as a group?" Falk questioned. Simultaneously the committee members leaned forward and Keith forced himself to take a steadying breath before answering,

"Our intention was to retrieve the Princess as quietly as possible, without attracting Lotor's attention. The device did not malfunction until after Pidge was inside and he was the only one in possession of its monitor."

"So you sent in the youngest, then the oldest, your second and finally yourself," Zalor said, ticking them off on his abnormally colored fingers.

"Yes. Between the four of us, we established that if more than ten minutes passed without contact, we would send the next one in. We didn't expect Lotor to be waiting."

"How did the device malfunction?" Windt asked, his eyes alight with a glow that Keith recognized all too well, having seen it in Pidge's eyes more than once.

"I don't know." Something passed between the committee members a second time and Zalor's shoulders actually shook with suppressed laughter. Resisting the urge to glower at him, Keith continued to stare straight ahead and waited for his next question.

"What happened to your team members, Captain?" Keith swallowed and clenched his hands even tighter behind his back.

"Pidge went in first, having the tracking device in his possession, and ran into the first of Lotor's traps that were set in case we managed to find him. He fell into a pit and survived without more than a bruise or two but Lotor had anticipated this and triggered a gas which soon knocked him unconscious. Lotor then retrieved him from the pit and tied him up. Hunk went in second and made it only a little farther before he was ambushed by swarm of bats. Lotor used this as a distraction and managed to sneak up behind him with a rag full of the same gas and similarly knocked out Hunk. He was not so careful with him when he dragged him to Pidge's location and tied him up as well however." Keith paused, envisioning the cuts and scrapes all over the big man's body that he still felt personally responsible for. There was one that would never vanish, yet another reminder of what Lotor had done. "By this time Lance and I were worried and debated over whether or not we should go in together or separately. In the end he won and went on ahead though I agreed to radio the palace and tell them that we might need some help. Lance made it the farthest and suffered the worst of Lotor's attacks...what was meant to be a swinging net misfired and broke his arm. Lotor was easily able to overpower him and tie him up with the others."

"If you will pardon the interruption, Captain, where was the Princess all this time?"

"Lotor locked her in a room next to the one where he was keeping my teammates. After he captured Lance, he retrieved her and waited for me."

"He did not set any traps for you?" Windt asked, his skepticism clearly written across his face.

"My teammates were my trap, Sir. He knew I would go wherever I believed them to be and he was not wrong."

"Very well, Captain, so far your testimony matches that of your teammates precisely. Perhaps too precisely. What happened when you reached the room where everyone was?" Falk said, stroking his chin a speculative manner.

"I confronted Lotor."

"Yes?"

"We argued...we deliberated...in the end it came to blows."

"Aren't you going to tell us what was said?" Skiald queried, the fact that his mouth was practically nonexistent still bothering the Voltron Captain.

"With all due respect, Sir, that is something that will remain between Lotor and myself. They were old arguments, about Voltron, the galaxy, peace, Princess Allura."

"Ah yes, the Princess. How did she figure into this little melodrama? Or didn't she figure into it at all?" Zalor interrupted, his eyes gleaming once more. Keith allowed himself to glare at him; in truth he simply couldn't help it. He knew too well what he was insinuating and hated more than anything that there was the slightest glimmer of truth to it.

"She played a part. Lotor asked her to choose even though he knew what she would say. She didn't answer. He demanded that she answer. When she refused, he asked me to choose for her. When I wouldn't answer, he became disgusted and flung her to the side of the room with the others."

"You neglected to mention that he was holding the tip of his sword to her neck all the while," Zalor remarked idly, his slitted gaze flickering to the ceiling. "Unusual behavior for a man you seem certain would never harm her."

"It was a bluff."

"Perhaps."

"What was the state of your teammates during your...conversation with Prince Lotor, Captain?" Falk asked, once again the one to return some semblance of order to the proceedings.

"Pidge was starting to regain consciousness, Hunk was still out cold and Lance was furiously working at his rope while Lotor wasn't looking. He was almost freed when...it happened."

"When what happened, Captain?" Simultaneously the entire committee leaned forward to hear his answer and when he spoke, the voice that left his lips was so strangled Keith didn't recognize it for his own.

"When I unintentionally killed Lotor."

"Unintentionally?" Zalor again. Falk's efforts to maintain any semblance of control over the proceedings were pitifully hopeless.

"He ran himself through."

"Ran himself through?"

"Yes. I didn't even thrust...he flung himself on the blade."

"And why, pray tell, Captain, would Lotor do such a thing? If there's anything I know about my cousin it was that he was not prone to suicide."

"I can't claim to know the workings of Lotor's mind. I was wrong to say he flung himself on the blade. He had said something which distracted me and then moved as if to strike. When I countered it...the blade connected with him instead of his sword. And then he pulled it deeper...and..." Keith couldn't finish, unable to repeat what the Doom Prince had said. In spite of himself he shuddered and the faces of the committee blanched as one.

"What did you do next, Captain?" Falk asked after a considerable time had passed. Coming back to the present with a start, Keith looked dazedly at the committee members for several moments, unable to remember even their names, much less process their faces.

"We received a transmission from the palace. Our reinforcements were outside the cave. We requested stretchers for everyone except for me, since I was the only one not wounded. Princess showed no signs of physical harm, but we wanted to be certain. They came, we brought Lotor's body with us and returned to the palace." A part of him desperately wanted to tag on, "the end," but he resisted, not wanting to prolong the interview any further with his impertinence.

"This, too, matches the account of your teammates, Captain. I have never in all my years at Galaxy Garrison heard so accurate a testimony from five separate people. Is there anything further you wish to add?" Falk asked, drumming his fingertips together in a fashion similar to that of Zalor. Raising his head, Keith met the gaze of each of the committee members in turn before saying slowly,

"Yes, Sir. If the committee chooses to believe that my actions were guided out of concern for the Princess Allura and my teammates, they would not be mistaken. But know this, as much as I may have loathed Lotor, it was never my intent to end his life. I would have much rather seen him tried and convicted for his crimes than have him meet his end at my hands. There was animosity between us, yes, but there was also a certain level of respect. He was a worthy opponent in many ways. I never meant to take his life."

"Thank you, Captain. This concludes our interview. You may join your teammates while we make our decision." Falk waved a hand in dismissal at him while Zalor openly smirked. Bowing, Keith nodded to each of the committee members and turned fluidly on his heel. With each step, the weight began to vanish from his shoulders and by the time he had left the room, he almost felt like a new man. He would not say that the interview had gone well; no, he would not say that, not to his companions and not even to himself. It hadn't gone badly but he wasn't certain what the result would be. Zalor had tried his utmost to push his buttons and had succeeded minimally despite Keith's outward calm. Practically stumbling towards the holding room, he walked through the doors without even seeing his surroundings. It wasn't until they had closed safely behind him and he heard the strangely reassuring sound of them locking that he was able to process the sights before him.

Clustered together on one of GG's standard narrow gray couches was his team, with the exception of Lance. The latter was sprawled in one of their equally uncomfortable chair, the sight of his left arm in a sling causing a twinge of pain to course through Keith. Hunk, too, was bandaged while Pidge had the remnant of a bruise on his features. Allura's scar he would never see while his own...his own were hidden and just as painful. In the corner, Coran stood staring off into nothing, his expression grave while he absently stroked his moustache.

"So...how'd it go?" Lance asked finally, trying to grin and wincing as he accidentally jarred his arm.

"No worse than expected," Keith said flatly, striding towards the remaining sofa and briefly touching Lance's unwounded shoulder in passing.

"You look like hell," Lance muttered.

Keith didn't even spare him a scathing glance, instead flinging himself down on the sofa and burying his head in his hands. Now that it was over...another shudder escaped him in spite of his efforts to repress it and he cursed his own weakness. Between his teammates several glances passed(everyone was communicating silently where he was concerned today)and he was left alone for several moments before Allura silently rose from her place between Pidge and Hunk and moved to sit beside him. A small part of him wanted to flinch away from her but he remained where he was, head still buried in his hands. He couldn't look at any of them. He couldn't think or see anything other than Lotor falling upon his sword, his eyes glittering for the last time. Was he always going to be haunted by it! He wasn't certain if he could live with himself if this was how it was always going to be. For the third time he shuddered–he wondered idly if it was just his body's way of dealing with the strain. Tentatively Allura moved closer to him, her own face strained and far more worn than any girl's should be. Still Keith didn't move, trapped in his own private hell and making no effort to escape from it. So gently he was scarcely even aware of it, the arm of the Princess of Arus slipped around him and drew him closer until her head rested against his own. For a moment longer Keith resisted and then the will left him and he relaxed against her touch. An inaudible wave of relief passed through the room even though he still did not look up at his teammates. Unconsciously Allura's touch changed and she tightened her grip on him momentarily and then remained just as she was, near by but not asking for any sort of reaction from him. Letting out a long breath, Keith took what solace he could from her nearness, knowing that he shouldn't and yet beginning to realize that it was what he needed. It was over now. Thank God it was over now.