The assault on the Quintessence factory had been an utter failure. They'd lost Allura and failed to do any real damage. Their enemies even had… Keith wished there was a better word for it besides magic but how else could you describe someone manipulating energy with his bare hands while blinking in and out of existence at will? He'd fought a wizard.

And during the fight his hand had been splashed with Quintessence from a broken vial.

The only mark was a splash shaped scar on his hand but Shiro had been insistent that he be run through every test at the Castle's disposal. Coran checked him for any kind of infection or poison that might have slipped through the burn. After a while Keith suspected that this was less about him and more about giving Coran something to do. Something to take his mind off Allura.

If that had been Shiro's plan, it had failed.

The silly Coran. The outlandish Coran. The over the top Coran. The clownish Coran. Keith would not have called him any of those things now. He looked like a man whose world had just ended and in a way it had. Allura was all he had left. That was what Keith couldn't stand. He hadn't just failed Allura. He had failed Coran and now he was alone. A pain he knew well.

Well… not alone. Lance was sitting in the corner trying not to look concerned.

Finally, Coran told him to get up and get dressed.

"Like I suspected. There's nothing you need to worry about." Coran said.

"Well, that's a relief." Lance said.

"You don't seem surprised." Keith said while pulling his shirt on.

"Quintessence has healing properties. In small doses." Coran said.

"Does it now? Maybe we should have grabbed a few vials while we were there." Lance said.

"That… would not have been a good idea. It's not wise to rely on something that powerful." Coran said.

Keith nodded and then after some hesitation put his hand on Coran's shoulder like Shiro would have done. Although unlike him, Shiro wouldn't have felt awkward and uncertain. He would have said just the right words that made it all seem okay.

"We'll get her back." Keith said.

Lance's grin was unusually dim.

"You know it. We have Voltron. Who could stand against us?"

Coran's moustache trembled and tears started welling in his eyes.

"Thank you. Both of you Thank you."

Lance did something Keith was not prepared for and hugged Coran. Coran even hugged him back and looked slightly better for it. Keith wondered how some people could do that. Just… get in each other's personal space and make it seem natural. Before asking to be left alone Coran told them to get plenty of sleep.

They walked through the hallways in silence.

"So… how's the mitt?" Lance said finally.

"The what?"

"Your hand."

Keith stared at the scar. He wasn't a doctor, but he was sure that scars weren't meant to be blue.

"It feels… I don't know. Normal but weird."

Lance grinned without any real humor.

"You're lucky we have free healthcare in space, you capitalist pig."

"You want to start something, you… uh… you commie bastard?"

"Nice. Culturally insensitive without being racist." Lance said.

They laughed. Not because it was funny but because they had to laugh at something.

"Thanks for sticking around for the entire time." Keith said.

"You did the same for me too when my back was blown open. Sorry I wasn't there to hold you in my arms for another bonding moment."

"I forgive you." Keith said and started out of the window at the emptiness of space: "This… is going to work, right?"

"What? Our genius plan to attack the enemy stronghold head on and pray that everyone who could bring the hammer down is too stunned by the stupidity to do anything about it?"

"You're bringing the morale down." Keith said.

Lance sighed.

"Not like we have much of a choice. If it gets out that we lost Allura, we're done for. We can't look weak now and… if they make Allura talk… we're screwed."

"She's strong." Keith said.

"Yeah but… no one can be strong all the time." Lance said.

Keith agreed. As bad as they had it, Shiro had to suffer even more. He knew better than anyone how kind the Galra were to their prisoners. Not that any of them had it easy. Lance looked ready to fall over.

"You should get some rest." Keith said.

"You think I can sleep now?" Lance said and looked away: "Keith?"

"Yeah?"

"Ever played baseball?"

"What?"

"Guess not. I'm a pretty good pitcher. At least I think I am. I'm guessing you're more of a catcher. I wouldn't mind playing a few rounds with you. We could even switch around if that makes you more comfortable."

"Huh?"

Lance was quiet for a while.

"You know what? Forget it. Ask Shiro and think about it. I'm going for a swim. See if I can get my head straight."

"Good idea." Keith said and watched Lance go.

If Lance couldn't sleep, he could've tried sleeping in his room. He didn't ever remember sleeping as well as he had in the Blue Lion. Or if Lance wasn't going to ask, maybe he should. It would be easy. Lance was close. All he had to do was call after him.

He didn't and headed to the training room.

Coward, Keith thought.

He set the three training dummies to the highest difficulty and drew his Bayard. It transformed into a sword in his hand and he got ready for a match. The dummies came at him at the same time in perfect unison and Keith ran around to separate them. Then he charged at the leader.

The Bayard cut through the practice sword… and the dummy. Cleaving both in half.

"Stop!"

The session ended immediately, and the two dummies stepped back while Keith stared at the remains of the third one. What the hell was that?! He'd always been stronger than an average human but this… He'd cut through metal like it was paper. There was a tingling sensation in his hand and when he looked down… the scar had turned a darker shade of blue… and it was growing.

Sweat was running down his face when he put the Bayard away and picked the upper half of the broken dummy. He started squeezing its head. It took a great deal of effort, but he managed to crush a ball of metal in his hands like it was clay. He dropped the bent head.

"Lance!"

He ran out of the training room without cleaning up the mess he'd left behind and ran to the pool where Lance was swimming laps. When Lance noticed him, he swam to the edge of the pool.

"What's up?"

"Could… could you come with me?" Keith pleaded.

All Lance had to do was look at him and he nodded before climbing out of the pool. No questions asked. He dried himself with a towel while following Keith back to the training room. The sight of the destroyed test dummy made him stop and Keith started filling a barbell with weights. He didn't stop until it weighted twice as much as he did.

"Keith? What…?"

Keith picked up the barbell with little effort and Lance's jaw fell loose. Keith turned to look at him.

"Could you… put more weight on it?"

Lance did and Keith started lifting, trying to find the upper limit of his new strength.

"More."

"More."

"More."

"More."

Finally, he had to struggle to lift the barbell and he sat breathing heavily.

"How much… was that?" Keith asked fearing the answer.

Lance was quiet.

"… Lance?"

"Four hundred kilos."

Keith nodded. Well over twice what Hunk could lift on his best day.

"That's a lot." Keith said.

"Yeah. It is." Lance agreed.

Keith stared at his hand. The scar had grown a bit bigger. Just a bit but enough for him to notice… and Lance. Or was it a scar? If he started clawing away his skin, would he find that there was another layer of hide beneath it?

"Lance… what's happening to me?"

"I… I don't know, Keith. I don't know but… we have to tell the others." Lance said.

"No!"

He grabbed Lance and it was only when Lance let out a pained howl did, he realize how little control he had of him new strength. He let go horrified at what could have happened if he had used even a little more force. Lance was rubbing his arm and a deep, dark bruise in the shape of Keith's grip was already forming on it.

"I… Lance… I'm… I didn't mean to…"

He expected Lance to run but not before calling him a monster. Lance didn't run. He just grinned through the pain.

"I know."

They stood in uneasy silence. Then Lance reached out and touched his scarred hand. He studied it and Keith didn't pull away.

"It's spreading and… we don't know what else might happen. We have to tell the others." Lance said.

"If they knew what I was… what do you think they'd do? Coran… what do you think he'd do? Or Pidge?" Keith said.

"Then we'll tell Shiro. He'll know what to do."

The thought of Shiro knowing was the worst of it. If he knew part of him was the enemy… part of the race that had used him as a toy for a year… Shiro would know that he'd lied to him. They'd all know and there would be questions of what else he had lied about. There would be the whispers behind his back. There would be one less place for him to belong.

Guess Lance was right, and he was easier to read then he would have liked. He bowed his head.

"Fine. We'll tell Shiro after this. When we've all had time to calm down."

"… you promised not to tell anyone." Keith complained.

"This is different. You could…" Lance said before drifting off and then grinning: "You won't have to tell him alone. I'll be there too."

Keith nodded.

"Thanks, Lance."