I don't own Voltron or anything even remotely associated with it. Heaven knows if I did, I would still have the toys. There was a long time between updates again, I know. I apologize for the hundredth time. Every time I resolve to work harder on this, something gets in the way. But it's here at last, a whole lot of Keith moping. You're all so thrilled.

Reflections

Keith sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, his forearms resting across them as he stared out into nothingness. Behind him was the familiar sturdiness of the Black, the spaceship's front paw serving as his backrest as he sat, completely unaware of his surroundings, save for the structure that supported him. He hadn't wanted to come up here for this reason. He had never imagined that he might have to during his stay and yet now that he was here, it seemed almost natural, inevitable that he would once again find himself seeking to hide from the world at this spot. Up here on the Black's platform was the only place in the entire galaxy where he felt he could be completely alone. Up here, no one would be able to find him, or even if they did, the Black wouldn't allow them access. He knew that from experience. The most they would be able to do was shout at him and no one had even attempted that for an hour. It was his haven, his sanctuary, and yet even he knew he could not hide forever. But it was nice to pretend he could. And so he did, with a stubbornness that was astonishing, even to himself.

How much time had passed since Lotor's return into his life, he couldn't rightly determine. He wasn't even certain how long he had been sitting with his back to the Black, staring out into the landscape that didn't even register in his vision. He only knew that it was long enough for those who cared about him to become concerned and look for him. He didn't want to face them right now. He didn't want to see anyone. He just wanted to stay here and forget...forget that the impossible had now become reality. Lotor. The man who had haunted his dreams for ten years, whose hold on his soul had become impossible to shake, no matter how hard he tried, was still alive. Still alive and in possession of an innocent young man's body ultimately because Keith had "killed" him ten years ago. It was like something out of a nightmare and yet it was all very real. How many times had he woken up sweating in the middle of the night, remembering the Doom Prince's taunts and reliving the fatal sword thrust that had changed everything? Too many times to count and now...now it was all for nothing. He had killed him and lived with the guilt of killing him for ten years only to find that it had never really mattered. Lotor lived on and he...he pretended to live.

The revelation concerning him and Allura didn't bother him. There wasn't a soul among them who hadn't at least suspected if not been pretty damn sure that something more had passed between them than they wanted everyone else to know. Liran's treatment of him from the moment he arrived suggested no less and Keith knew he had never been able to fool his teammates. Realistically he supposed the event itself was not so shocking, it was that he had let it happen, he with his reputation of unwavering honor. If they hadn't known before, they all knew now that he, too, was human and was able to be undone by something as simple as a woman. His greatest weakness would always be Allura, whether she was being held captive by Lotor or offering him her heart. She was the one thing he could never refuse...he loved her too much. It was supposed to have been good-bye. If he had known he was going to see her again, he never would have...she never would have...but they had and now everyone knew. It had seemed such a simple, easy lie at the time. He hadn't wanted her to use it but as she pointed out, it was the most plausible explanation other than the truth and there was no one to dispute it. Or so they thought.

He couldn't do it. He knew with a certainty that shocked him that should he be put in the same situation, he wouldn't be able to kill Lotor again. It didn't matter what the circumstances might be, or whose life might be at stake, he knew that he wouldn't be able to do it. And he was willing to wager everything he owned that Lotor was aware of it as well. In fact, that was most likely the point of the entire charade. To lure Keith and the others into the same situation and this time, emerge victorious with the Princess as his prize. What the fate of his teammates would be, Keith wasn't certain. He doubted Lotor would have the interest to kill them all, perhaps maybe Lance and Pidge, but Hunk had never done more than shout names at him and was hardly considered a worthy adversary by the Doom Prince. Hunk he would most likely let live while the others lives would be forfeit the minute they came after him. And they would go after him, they would stand for nothing less. Even knowing that he would not emerge the victor, Keith didn't think he could remain at the castle, not doing anything to try and save Allura from a life of captivity she didn't deserve. Even if it might not be the sort of torment he believed it to be.

She had let Lotor find her tracking device. Let him find it and exposed them all. He had never questioned her before on how it had been found...he hadn't wanted to know and while he still didn't know the details, he could easily guess how it happened. She wasn't immune to the Doom Prince's advances, not entirely, and that stung more than he wanted to admit. Her relationship with Liran bothered him, but he could excuse it, knowing that she didn't love him and most likely never would. He had seen enough of their interaction together to be safe in that assumption but Lotor was another matter entirely. Lotor was...his arch enemy, for lack of a better term, and the truth of her having let him touch her even in a semi-intimate matter was a betrayal worse than her marriage to Liran ever could be. Rationally he supposed she had been trying to keep up the act, to make Lotor think that she was going along with his plan in order to protect the rest of them, but that was an excuse that could only take her so far. If he failed, as he believed he would, perhaps her life spent as Lotor's captive would not be entirely unpleasant for her. The thought was not as comforting as he had wanted it to be.

And then there was Cael. Lost among all the revelations concerning the adults that were supposed to protect him was a frightened nine year old boy who most of all had done nothing to deserve the fate that had befallen him. Keith's fists clenched in anger in spite of himself and he cursed Lotor under his breath for taking the boy. A clever move and perhaps the best one to assure the results he desired but unforgivable, nevertheless. Getting the boy back was Keith's main priority, that at least, he knew he could achieve, even at the cost of Allura's freedom. Cael had no choice in this matter whatsoever, the events that brought it about had all occurred before his birth, before his parents even knew of each other, and he couldn't possibly understand any of it. He, too, believed that Lotor wouldn't harm the Prince. Lotor knew better than anyone else that Allura wasn't easily swayed and hurting her son would guarantee that previous weakness or not, she would never come to him willingly. For the life of him Keith didn't understand why Lotor was so hung up on her actually wanting to be with him. Any time he had held her prisoner for a significant amount of time, he had spent it trying to woo her rather than take her by force. Strangely admirable and yet pointless at the same time. It mattered little, however, though his mind refused to leave it alone. He only worried what Lotor might say in the Prince's presence. Physically Cael would return intact, but what mental damage the Doom Prince might inflict, Keith could only imagine. He knew too well the effect Lotor could have on someone's mind...he had never left his own.

He hated being scared for Cael. Hated it with a passion that was nearly as overwhelming as his fear. It was spurred on by the fact that he knew he had no business being so concerned for the boy. It was almost as if...he had grown to care for him, in spite of everything, in spite of who his father was and the reminder he always would be. He couldn't help it, not really. Cael was so eager, so thoroughly unlike most nine year olds and so like he had been at that age that it would have been difficult not to develop an attachment to the boy. He had never seen a boy so passionate in his likes and so desperate for recognition from the father who was hard pressed to give him any positive attention. And there was that uncanny habit of his, the expression where Allura looked out from his eyes and Keith was unable to refuse him anything. The boy had his own sort of magic that worked on him, both like and unlike Allura's at the same time and he still wasn't certain why. It was more than his just being Allura's son but what it was, he didn't dare to fathom. Deep within the far recesses of his mind a possible answer lurked but he couldn't face it, not now, possibly not ever. If he did indeed go to his death when he faced Lotor, perhaps then, but not now. Not now.

"Keith? I know you're up there. Are you going to come down sometime this century or are we going to have to destroy the Black in order to get up there?"

Lance's voice echoed throughout the emptiness of the pathway as he stood at the base of the Black's platform, shouting up at a figure he couldn't clearly see. Keith didn't answer, instead resting his chin on his arms and continuing to stare out at the landscape that had no meaning for him.

"Keith! Come on, buddy, we need you. Liran's washed his hands of the entire thing, not that he would have been much help, but Ally's beside herself with worry. Plus she's scared to death for Cael and herself. She's got us but she needs you."

Still Keith didn't say anything, his brows drawing together as his mind registered Lance's statement concerning Liran but resisting the urge to say anything.

"You're being a jackass, you know that? No one gives a damn that you slept with her. Hell, I would have done it myself if I'd been the one she picked."

"It isn't about that," Keith muttered, unable to help himself. His words didn't reach Lance whoever, who stood glaring up at the platform, his arms angrily crossed over his chest.

"It's about Lotor then?" Lance cried, almost as if he had heard and Keith started involuntarily. "For Doom's sake, Keith, do yourself a favor and get over it already! So you killed him, big deal. You did the galaxy a favor and you know it. No one missed him when he was gone, not even his most faithful followers really wanted him back. All they missed was the cause he fed them, not the man himself. Killing him wasn't something to be sorry for. Not then, not now, not ever. Besides, he isn't really dead. Aran is and I suppose you blame yourself for that, too. Bad things happen, Keith, and sometimes there's nothing you can do about them. Didn't you tell me that the first time we found a village Lotor had destroyed? Or don't you believe the things you say?"

Keith didn't speak, still staring out into nothingness and wishing that Lance would just go away. Lance was right, he knew he was and yet he couldn't bring himself to admit it. He didn't want to let go of his guilt...he wasn't certain if he even could. Beneath him, Lance swore and shook his head in disgust.

"Don't come down then. Hide from the world. But it won't change the fact that Lotor has Cael and that in three days Allura's going to offer herself in exchange for her son. It won't change that Lotor wants to face you again. He won't rest until he does, you know that. I know I always scoffed at your spirits of the Lions mumbo jumbo, but I believed it. There's no other explanation for why the Black's protecting you even now when you're being the galaxy's biggest jackass. Why it's protecting such a coward though, I don't know. And you are one. You're a coward, Keith. You're the biggest coward I know."

For the first time since Lance's arrival, Keith's position altered and he moved his head in time to watch his friend walk away, his hands shoved angrily in his pockets. Not once in all the years they had known each other had Lance ever seemed truly disgusted with him. He had disapproved and argued and called him every name imaginable but he had never really meant it. He meant it now. There was no way to make him understand either. No way to explain that he knew he should have gotten over it, that he had tried hundreds of times and failed. No way to say that this one time he didn't want to face reality...that he couldn't be the one everyone counted on, not this time. Not this time.

This isn't like you.

The voice entered his mind almost without his awareness of it and he found himself answering it before he even knew what he was doing,

Everyone seems to think that. How do they even know what I'm like?

They know just as I know.

You're different.

They need you.

I know. But I can't...

Why not?

Because this once I don't want to be the one everyone runs to. I want to be the one that sits back and lets everyone else do all the decision making. I want to be the one who's told everything's going to be all right.

Understandable but impossible.

Why?

You know as well as I that you are not a man who collapses. Inwardly you might falter but outwardly you go on. I wouldn't have picked you as my own if I didn't recognize your strength as being superior to most men's. So far you have not proved me wrong.

I can't do this. I can't.

Can't or won't?

Can't.

Why?

Killing him isn't simple. It isn't just a matter of plunging a sword into him or firing a blast. He knows me better than I know myself, he knows my weaknesses, my strengths...he is my opposite in too may ways...it's like killing myself.

Do you need this opposite in order to feel whole?

No. I need a closure that doesn't involve his death or my own.

Also impossible.

Where does that leave me?

You have no choice but to face him again. No choice but to be the man that you are and have them rely on you. It is what you are meant to do. I know. Why else do you think I chose you?

But I don't want to.

When is life always a matter of what we want to do? Haven't you taught that lesson to your cadets and your teammates a dozen times over?

I don't want to know it. I don't want to be this man anymore.

Even if you keep running, you will still have to face yourself in the end. If you want them to understand and accept that you are a man with faults, you must first understand and accept it of yourself.

And if they lose their faith in me?

The only way they will lose their faith is if you continue to run from who you are. I have not lost faith in you. You are my chosen pilot and always will be.

What of the others?

As I told you ten years ago, if I must, I will accept substitutes. Frank is the closest rival you have had for my loyalty but you are still the one I would have above all others. Don't make me change my mind.

I'll try not to. Did I hallucinate this again, or are you really there?

That is for you to determine. Whether or not I am real or just a figment of your imagination doesn't matter if I have helped you regain your senses.

I still don't know if I can do this. But I intend to try.

And that is precisely why I chose you.

Smiling faintly, Keith looked up at the head of the Black, a giant shadow towering above him and thought he discerned a faint gleam within the slotted yellow eyes before it faded and was just a dull reflection once more. This was the second time he had had a conversation with what he believed to be the spirit of the Black Lion, the first had come ten years ago when he had been unable to face the prospect of someone else flying the craft he had come to love. There had been other times, in battle, when the voice had whispered to him, or suggested maneuvers but he had always managed to dismiss it as his own hallucinations. It was strangely comforting to know that whatever it was, spirit of the Black or his own imagination, it still believed in him, even when he didn't believe in himself. His teammates believed in him, too, he knew, but sometimes the pressure was too much for him to bear. Rising to his feet, he stretched his aching limbs and rested one hand against the Black's paw.

Over Lotor's death he wasn't. Ready to face him again, he most certainly wasn't. But there was nothing else for him to do. If Liran really had washed his hands of the whole affair, then they needed someone to look to and once again, that would have to be him. After this was all over, if he survived, then, perhaps, he could finally have the complete breakdown he had needed to have the past ten years. He had come close this time...and part of him still wanted desperately to collapse, but he couldn't. Too many people depended on him for him to indulge in his own weakness. It would be enough if they would finally recognize that he had them, just like anyone else.

"Thank you for protecting me, old friend. It's time to stop running," he said softly, patting the Black's paw once in reassurance. All at once he felt the wards the Black had created dissipate around him and he headed towards the ladder that with a grim smile. If this really was his purpose, then he would do the best he could and to hell with the consequences. If he was meant to die at Lotor's hand, then it would not be in vain. That was all he could ask of himself and he intended to fulfill it.

"He won't come down. I don't know what the hell is wrong with him. It isn't like him," Lance said angrily, pacing back and forth across the width of the lounge where the space explorers traditionally went to discuss strategy. Curled up in a chair in the corner, Allura looked like a shadow of herself, her face was stained with dried tears and lines previously invisible were making themselves known under her strain.

"He's never forgiven himself for killing Lotor, Lance..."

"I know that but it's been ten years. Does he think the rest of us found that so easy to come to terms with? The guy goes through one tragic experience and he thinks it gives him a license to break down for the rest of his life! He's a coward, a coward." Striding to the wall, Lance punched it angrily, continuing to mutter "coward" under his breath several times as the intensity of his punches only increased.

"Has anyone considered the possibility that we might have to do this without Keith?" Pidge said quietly, his eyes remaining on the screen of his computer as he scanned files. Looks passed between the three members of the Voltron Force and Hunk leaned forward, his hands clasped together as he said,

"Can we do this without Keith?"

"Lotor wants him just as much as he wants me. I don't think we can."

"Then we've got to snap him out of it,"Hunk replied, leaning back and folding his arms though his voice sounded far from hopeful.

"I'm telling you, there's no snapping him out of it," Lance interjected, giving the wall one last punch before turning to face his teammates. "The guy's lost it. He's completely withdrawn into his own little world. What kills me is that I never thought I'd see this. Of all the people I've ever known, Keith's always been the one I can count on, that never fails. And now when we need him most he..."

"He shouldn't always have to be the one we count on," Allura said quietly. Her teammates looked at her simultaneously and she dropped their gazes, seeing the change in them and fearing it. They knew what her defense of Keith meant now, even if they had been relatively certain before, and she wasn't able to face that either.

"Maybe but that doesn't change the fact that we need him now."

"I still think we should explore the option of doing this without him," Pidge put in a second time.

"Having leadership aspirations are we, Pipsqueak?" Lance retorted, folding his arms and fixing a fierce glare on the youngest member of the team.

"No, but I'm tired of waiting for him. If he wants to run away, then let him run away. We can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do."

"You have a plan then?" Hunk asked, cutting Lance off.

"An idea, yes. It can go forward with or without Keith, but it'll work better if he's involved. Do you want to hear it?"

Pidge raised his eyes from his computer screen for the first time, the seriousness of his gaze behind his glasses silencing even Lance. Looks passed between the four of them, mainly between Lance and Allura as the two closest to Keith waged their own private war of giving up on him or holding out hope that he would come through for them just as he always did. It was Allura who sighed first and shook her head, dropping Lance's gaze and burying her face in her knees in defeat. Folding his arms, Lance silently cursed the man he believed to still be seated on the Black's platform and said flatly,

"Go ahead, Pidge."

"Without Keith?" Pidge asked, removing his glasses and raising one skeptical eyebrow. Lance's features hardened and he turned his back on the young scientist as he muttered,

"Yes, damn it, without Keith. Get on with it."

Moving to stand beside Allura's chair, Lance kept his back turned to the others, his arms wrenched across his chest as he bowed his head and scowled. Tentatively Allura put a hand on his arm before resting her chin across her knees and trying to give Pidge her silent support even though she couldn't keep from wondering where Keith was and why he had chosen now of all times to fail them. Polishing his glasses with a faint air of triumph that was not lost on his teammates, Pidge replaced them and typed away at his computer for several moments before clearing his throat and looking at them all in turn. His mouth had just begun to open when the door unexpectedly opened and Keith stepped through.

Several moments of silence passed where nothing was said and no one moved. Keith remained where he was in the doorway, his hair lacking any sense of order, his eyes darkened by shadows that he would not, could not share with them. In his features was a hardness accompanied by a determination they recognized all too well. Suddenly he looked all his thirty-five years and more and when he moved into the lounge, the door closed behind him with an air of finality. Silently turning to lock it behind him, Keith looked at them all in turn. Eyes wide behind his glasses, Pidge was staring at him with a mixture of disappointment, disbelief, and something he almost thought was relief though it was hard to say. He had interrupted the young scientist's moment and for that Keith was sorry, but there was no changing it now. At his place on the couch, Hunk wore an expression of mingled pride and anger, though his own relief was evident at the sight of his Captain's return. Keith's lips curved slightly as he acknowledged him; Hunk hadn't lost faith, despite what he had heard. Staring at him over his shoulder, Lance was a picture of indignation, relief and irritation. His own hair lacked order and Keith instantly recognized the strain in his body movements and he tried to send him an apologetic glance. Lance's mouth raised slightly in response and he shook his head before turning around, his arms still folded but without the tension they had carried previously. As for Allura...her eyes were wide as she looked at him, wide both with understanding and with fear, though why she still seemed afraid he wasn't certain. Later he would have to talk to her, to explain that he wasn't upset their secret was out in the open, that it didn't really matter, nor did he fault her for letting it become exposed. Managing to give her the smile that had only faintly shone for Hunk, he turned back to Pidge and said quietly,

"As you were." Pidge's brows arched and he waited only until Keith had taken a seat far away from the others before launching into the details of his plan. He hadn't failed them. For now.