"Take as long as you need." Shiro murmured, a weight of understanding shadowing his dark grey eyes as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We'll be down in the cavern when you're ready."
Allura could only nod, swallowing hard as he turned away to herd the other paladins back down the passage. Her own gaze was locked on the small chamber in front of her, empty save for a small protective case on a ledge in the far wall and the stark silver pillar of a grave marker in the center of the floor. As their footsteps faded to silence, she forced a deep breath into her lungs and took a single step forward. Her body refused to go further than that, refused to accept this sudden, crushing abolishment of her last lingering hopes that she had never dared to voice. To kneel at that pillar, to read the name and dates written in carefully carved lines of blue quintessence, would make it absolutely, inescapably real, that her father was gone and he was never coming back.
A soft touch against her hand jolted her, and she glanced up sharply to see Coran beside her. His eyes, too, had not left the grave marker, and his customary smile had fallen away in favour of something deeply pained, something that made the lines on his face seem deeper and the shadows under his eyes darker and made her heart twist agonizingly.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He murmured softly. "I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Or..." He exhaled slowly. "Or my own, for that matter."
Allura swallowed hard. Of course Coran, her papa, was hurting just as desperately as she was. That was her father's grave, but it was also the grave of Coran's husband. The second of the two people he'd chosen to spend the rest of his life with was gone. "It's not your fault for wishing." She whispered back. "For wanting." For either of them to want their family back.
How many times in the last cycle would she have given almost anything to have Alfor back? To feel his warm, strong arms around her and his voice telling her everything would be alright?
In spite of herself, her eyes burned. She hadn't asked for any of this.
Coran's hand squeezed hers as he stepped away from her, forward, taking the few paces that separated them from the pillar and kneeling in front of it. How could he accept this so easily? She watched as he brushed the dust away from the lettering on the surface of the pillar, watched him take one sharp, shallow breath and bow his head.
Her heart twisted again, stealing her breath as a weight of fresh sorrow settled in its place. Alfor was gone. Her father was gone. She needed to accept that and move on. She'd done it twice before, she could do it again.
(But she'd never had to do it with the utter finality of a grave marker staring her in the face.)
Allura steeled herself, forced herself to take a step forward, then another, and dropped to her knees beside Coran. Up close, the marker was a simple one, the marker of a common man rather than the gold-and-luxite monuments of her grandfather and other rulers before him. Just a smooth half-cylinder, the flat face engraved with his name, date of birth, and date of death. Below that, simple angular symbols that she recognized as the writing system of the paladins conveyed the same information again. Almost automatically, she calculated the numbers. He'd lived only another fifty cycles after the day he'd sent them away. It should have been so much longer. Should have been spent with them.
Her breathing hitched and she felt her Papa's arm around her shoulders, drawing her close against his side, as she felt his body shake against hers with the force of their shared grief. Tears slid down her cheeks and she clenched shaking hands around the fabric of her suit. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to grow up surrounded by the love of her parents. Not thrust into a war bereft of everything she'd known, with her father's absence a sudden tearing pain and only her equally wounded Papa for support against the vast emptiness of change.
She wanted to know why. Wanted answers. She knew, on the logical level, what the reasoning behind the actions was. The fate of the universe, of countless lives on millions of planets and moons, was supposed to outweigh individual sacrifice. That was the duty of both a Paladin and a King. But somewhere inside her was a frightened child wanting to know why her family had abandoned her, why she wasn't the most important thing in their world.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, and let her eyes drop to the ground. She wouldn't find any answers here. Only silent stone and metal.
As if in defiance of her thoughts, her lowered gaze landed on a small square at the base of the pillar. She stared at it for a moment, disbelief filling her. Then she leaned forward, and pressed two fingers to the surface of the panel. It flashed blue, confirming her access. Then Allura's breath caught in her throat as a small hologram appeared in the air in front of them.
"Alfor..." Coran whispered hoarsely beside her, his arm tightening around her. Her father's face in the projection was older, wearier, lined with sorrow and grief and loneliness in a way that made him seem to have aged centacycles instead of the mere decacycles she knew it must have been. The projection was only shoulders-up, but it wouldn't have mattered, because she couldn't stop drinking in the sight of her father's face.
"Allura." His voice, too, was roughened before its time, prematurely aged by stress and loss. "Or Coran. Whichever of you has activated this playback, it's only keyed to the two of you. I dearly hope it's both of you here, because I want to tell you how sorry I am."
Allura choked, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks that she wiped away hastily when they blurred her sight.
"I won't ask your forgiveness, because I don't deserve it for all the hurt I've caused. I know, Fiorin tells me again and again, that it was necessary for the fate of the universe...but I think if I had access to a ship, if it wouldn't lead the Galra straight to you and kill you both before your time, there isn't a rotation that goes by where I wouldn't leap to join you once more, to be there beside you when you wake. Universe and fate be elteked."
He sighed, the playback flickering as he glanced away from the recorder before lifting sorrowful eyes once more. "I don't know when you'll see this, or how much you already know. The data chip in the storage box contains a full explanation of exactly what was done and why, how you came to sleep for ten thousand cycles before waking to find a full set of Paladins at your door. It was no accident, and I am so, so sorry for using you the way I did. I wish...I wish there'd been some other way. I miss you both so much."
Coran's hand tightened on her shoulder and Allura felt him tremble against her. All she could do was press closer against his side, swallowing hard.
"I miss you, and I love you, and I hope, so very much, that you are safe and happy. That after Zarkon's fall the war ended without further pain for you both. That...that all this was worth it, and you will grow up, and live, and love, in a universe that is free and safe for you and your children." Alfor seemed to look straight at her, his own face streaked with tears. "I hope you can believe me when I say that nothing less than that could make losing you both worth it."
A knot in her chest seemed to loosen at those words. Oh. That was why.
Alfor took another deep breath. "Coran, my husband, my beloved, I miss you every day of my life. I can never apologize enough for what I asked of you that rotation, for inflicting this pain of loss upon you a second time. I'll be waiting for you in the stars with Linnata when the time comes, but...please, if you find love again, please don't deprive yourself of happiness for our sakes. If the opportunity comes, please grant me one last request and seize it with both hands. Because there is nothing that would bring me...us...more joy than for you to return to us with stories of a life well lived."
Coran let out a choked noise, a muted sob of grief and denial that shook her to the core. Allura twisted on the spot, pulling her Papa against her and letting him bury his face in her shoulder. Behind her, Alfor's hologram continued to speak, his voice thick with emotion, and she stiffened when she heard her name again.
"Allura, my beautiful, brilliant daughter. I'm so proud of you. I know, more than you can imagine, what you achieved and accomplished in the first several periods after your awakening, and I know, without doubt, that you have done and will do great things. You have your mother's brilliant mind and incredible talent and your Papa's determination and devotion, and I know you'll use them well. The files include your mother's research, should you ever need to make use of that as well. But regardless of what you choose to do with your life, whether you take your place as queen after me or follow in your Linnata's footsteps as a great amvel nayeta, whether you pursue one of Coran's many careers or strike out on a path of your own, all I want is for you to be happy. Love who you choose to love, live as you choose to live. And know, dearest daughter, that I love you with all my heart and soul."
Another deep breath, and, when she glanced over her shoulder, he wore a teary smile that seemed to look directly at her. "I love you both. And I always will." And with that, the projection flickered and went out.
For a moment they both sat frozen. Then a sob ripped free from Allura's chest and she turned back to bury her face in Coran's shoulder as they held each other close.
0000000
Closing the connection to the Castle, Pidge stayed where she was, curled in her pilot's chair with her knees tucked tight to her chest. She could feel Green prowling worriedly around her mind, sending her comforting nudges and soothing purrs in response to her paladin's continued sadness, and responded with a feeling of affection and appreciation that earned her a loving mental headbutt in return. But there was only so much Green's love, and talking to her brother and mom, could do right now against the ache sitting in Pidge's chest. She sniffled in spite of herself, wiping at a nose that was already raw from rubbing against the back of her glove.
"Miss you, Dad." She whispered to herself, hugging her knees tighter.
With everything that had happened, she hadn't really had a lot of time to properly grieve. Usually when the loss hit her she could bottle it up, contain it until they had a bit of respite from missions, from training, from meals, to withdraw to the privacy of her room and spill her tears into the pillows. But sometimes she couldn't. Like today, when they'd suddenly gone from the high of success to the painful sympathy for Allura's once-and-for-all loss. It had just hit too close to home, and she'd barely held it together until Hunk-thank god-had asked to go talk to his parents and the group had split apart. By the time she'd reached the cockpit she could barely see for the tears.
Matt had answered the call-he must have expected them all to head there directly afterwards instead of back to the cavern-and had taken one look at her and been all set to charge to the rescue before she could choke out an explanation. After that he'd gone quiet, sympathetic and comforting as he went in search of their Mom, even though she could see the shadows in his eyes. Even when their mother tucked him close against her side and took over reassuring Pidge, he seemed to be suppressing his own feelings, unwilling to give in to the emotions Pidge could see churning under the surface when she needed his comfort.
Pidge hadn't had the energy to call him out on it. But she did file it away for later.
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to will her hands to stop shaking. Allura and Coran would be back soon, and the team needed to focus on being there for them right now. As if on cue, Green nudged her again. "I know, I know. I'm going." Pidge muttered. She pushed herself upright, squared her shoulders, and marched down the ramp.
And promptly burst into tears again at the sight of Allura, whose puffy eyes, trembling shoulders, and tight, pained expression perfectly mirrored the wrenching in her own gut.
She threw her arms around Allura, felt the Princess stiffen for a moment before a soft inhalation of realization, then long arms folding around her and a face buried in her hair as the shaking of the other woman worsened. Behind her, Pidge heard Hunk mutter a quiet "Oh quiznack", then, louder, "Okay. Group hug time. Everybody in." before she was abruptly being squished in against Allura by Lance's lanky body and Keith's awkward form.
It should have been suffocating, given that she wasn't the most cuddly person at the best of times, but instead, it seemed to help a little. She could feel Lance's tension, Keith's restless anxiousness, a steady hand on her head that might have been Shiro. Someone muttered something she couldn't make out and the whole group shifted slightly like someone had joined it late.
Green rumbled thoughtfully, curling around her mind and nudging her memories, and then she understood. Keith and Kurogane had lost their father young. So had Shiro, along with his mom. Alejandro had seen his entire family destroyed with the Earth. And Allura was Coran's only living family, just as he was hers. They knew. They understood.
She soaked in the comfort of her second family's presence, letting it ease the tight knot in her chest and calm hitching lungs. When they finally pulled apart she found herself tucked close against Shiro's side, Keith on his other side with head down, hands shoved into pockets, and a carefully guarded expression.
Hunk stepped forward to wrap Allura up in a hug. "I'm sorry. I should have realized."
"It's not your fault." Allura whispered hoarsely, voice thick. "Nothing would have...knowing ahead of time would only have made it harder, I think."
"Still. This is...it's...it sucks. I'm sorry. If there's anything we can do, for either of you..." He stepped back slightly to include Coran in his gaze, then glanced over his shoulder, his expression sorrowful as it landed on Pidge. "Or anybody, really. This kinda hit home for most of us, huh."
"Just a bit." Shiro said softly, tightening his arms around Pidge and Keith. She leaned into his steady strength, firmly tamping down her emotions before they could run away with her again.
Allura swallowed hard, wiping hard at her eyes with a corner of her sleeve. Coran put an arm around her, pulling her close, looking not much more composed himself. "I...I think I would like to go back to the Castle for now." She said slowly, choosing her words carefully and setting them out one by one. "To spend some time in my home, surrounded by..." there was a moment's hesitation, "by the rest of my family." She gestured around at all of them.
"Then that's what we'll do." Hunk smiled back softly. "Come on. Everybody load up and we'll head back and have some family time for a bit."
0000000
"Thank you, Hunk." Shiro accepted the mug gratefully, breathing in the scent of steaming hot hot chocolate. He needed to remember to thank the Garretts, McClain-Martinezs, and Colleen Holt for their combined efforts in stocking the Castle with vast quantities of Earth foods before they left. "Oh man, it's even got little marshmallows." He realized, unable to keep the smile off his face.
"Best mood improver there is." Hunk grinned, passing another mug to Ryou. "And whipped cream, too, if you want it." Shiro offered him a thumb's up of approval as Hunk moved off down the line to where Colleen was bracketed by her two children, with Allura beside Pidge and Coran beyond her. Blowing carefully on his chocolate to cool it, Shiro surveyed his makeshift family. They'd all ended up clustered together on one of the long, curving couches, a long line of arms around shoulders and thighs pressed together in subtle comfort.
At the opposite end from the Holts and the Alteans, Alejandro and Kurogane were inseparable as always, but Kurogane had surprised everyone by gesturing for Kovirak to sit beside him and murmuring a quiet "I'm glad you're here." to her when she did. She had looked stunned for a moment, then, cautiously, as though expecting to be rebuffed at any moment, had placed a kiss to the top of his head and an arm around his shoulders. Her other arm was around Keith, overlapping with Shiro's own arm as he held his little brother close. Keith's head was down, staring into the mug in his lap, but Shiro let him be. Keith had already talked about his emotions as much as he was likely to today.
Ryou was tucked against Shiro's other side, sitting tall and unmistakably protective. It was a demeanor Shiro remember from when he'd first come to live with his aunts and uncle, when the grief would hit at unexpected times and his cousin would pull him away to a quiet corner of the house or the park and hold him close and ensure no one bothered him until he was ready to face the world again. The pain had faded since then, enough that right now Shiro was able to put it aside and focus on the rest of his family, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
He glanced over Ryou's shoulders at Matt, resting with his head on his mother's shoulder. He'd barely said a word since they got back, simply wrapped his sister up in a hug that she'd returned wholeheartedly. But then, he'd learned long ago that Matt tended to be very private about his strongest negative emotions, only unbottling them around those he was closest to. His breakdown after the press conference back on Earth wasn't something he was about to repeat here and now. But he seemed to be drawing comfort from the rest of his family, so Shiro let it be.
Further along the couch, he could see Colleen's hand wrapped around Coran's on the back of the couch where they each had an arm around their respective daughters. It made sense though, he supposed, for a close friendship to spring up between those two. They had a lot in common, especially their losses.
Lance appeared in the doorway, struggling to juggle two heavy trays of cookies, and Hunk quickly went to rescue one of them. Shiro couldn't help but smile as they started distributing the warm treats. Thank god for those two. They'd been going full-bore since the team got back, wrapping people in soft blankets, making hot drinks and snacks, locating boxes of tissue, and generally taking care of their emotionally battered family. Hunk seemed to be the one taking charge, but the pair of them made a formidable team, and once again Shiro could easily see why they fit so well as the two legs of Voltron.
Their efforts were paying off, too, as some of the somber mood started to drain away. Pidge and Allura were talking quietly, as were Coran and Colleen, and it seemed to help, on both sides.
Beside him, Keith shifted a bit, and Shiro glanced down as he squeezed Keith's shoulders reassuringly "You doing okay buddy?" He asked softly.
Keith bit his lip, but nodded, leaning his head against Shiro's shoulder and closing his eyes. He seemed much steadier now than he had been back in the cave, when the moment the others were out of sight he'd seemed to crumple inwards, head down, arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold himself together.
"Oh, Keith…" Shiro had murmured, drawing his adopted brother into his arms.
Keith rarely talked about his Dad. He never talked about losing him, about how his entire world had been suddenly and brutally ripped out from under him in a single instant, and Shiro hadn't pried. He'd never needed to. He couldn't miss the way Keith's dark eyes tracked children playing with their parents, the bitterness on family days at the Garrison, the way he always closed himself away from the world on the same day each year. He knew what losing a parent felt like, and he knew all too well that buried under all the other hurts inflicted on him during his time in the system was still the deepest wound of all.
As he'd rocked Keith gently back and forth, though, he'd glanced up and found Kurogane watching them. His demeanor had been one of forced calm, but there was still that same longing in those dark eyes, the same hidden withdrawal in the folding of his arms. Still that same wound, carried deep inside his heart alongside all the others added since.
In an instant Shiro had freed one of his arms from Keith and grabbed Kurogane's shoulder, tugging him close enough to wrap it around him fully. Kurogane had made a startled noise, started to protest, but Shiro shushed him at once.
"I told you before, you're still my brother. And I'm here for you too."
Kurogane had gone still at that, freezing in his arms for several heartbeats. Then, finally, he'd let himself lean in against Shiro, his remaining ear pressed against the side of his jaw where he could hear Shiro's heartbeat. Keith's head was already tucked under his chin, head turned sideways with his ear to the base of Shiro's throat. Shiro had wrapped his arms tighter around both of them, trying to reassure them with touch and pulse that neither of them was alone.
They'd stayed that way for a long time.
But even once the others had rejoined them, that hesitance had returned, and from Alejandro as well. He'd had to tell them both to join the group hug. Even after over a month in this time, two pair always hung at the edges of the group, never hesitating to help and support the rest of the group but always with that uncertainty when it came to accepting support in return. They were far more likely to withdraw, and share their vulnerabilities only with each other. And it was high time that changed.
"Kurogane." He said quietly, and the other man glanced over at him. "Remember what I said in the cave? About you being my brother?"
Kurogane blinked, but nodded. "What about it?"
Shiro looked at him steadily, holding his gaze. "I meant what I said. And I want you to know that it applies to both of you," he nodded to a startled Alejandro, "and to all of us." He gestured carefully with his mug at the others on the couch beside him. "I know we're not the family you lost, and it wouldn't be right for us to try to replace them. But we do want to be a new family for you, new brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles. We care about you, and we want to be there for you, if you'll let us be."
There was a pause, Kurogane breaking his gaze to exchange a stunned look with Alejandro. There was a rapid flicker of facial expressions, some silent, private conversation. But then they were lacing their fingers between them and Kurogane turned back to Shiro, offering him a small, hesitant smile. "Thank you. That...that really means a lot."
"Anytime." Shiro smiled back softly, reaching across Keith and Krolia to squeeze their joined hands.
0000000
Lotor frowned as he strode down the hallways of Central Command. He didn't need any more of the modified mass vaccinators just yet, having only used four so far of the dozen she'd given him to begin with, so he couldn't imagine why she had called him to her personal laboratories for a private meeting. However, he knew better than to antagonize the witch; her brilliance was a valuable resource, and she could be incredibly dangerous if provoked.
Some of his ill-fated half-siblings had been slow to learn that lesson, and had summarily found themselves culled from the pool of potential heirs. Neither Zarkon nor Haggar had any tolerance for stupidity.
Stepping through the doorway that marked the beginning of Haggar's territory aboard the ship, he found one of the Druids waiting for him. "The mistress is waiting for you." They whispered, bowing. "Please follow me."
Lotor scowled, but nodded, gesturing for the masked Altean to precede him down the hallway. Haggar's work area made his skin crawl, some of the doors lining the hallway standing open to show empty laboratories, while cross-corridors led off into the darkness toward the cells that contained her test subjects. He rather suspected some of his fellow hybrids still survived in those cramped cages.
The Druid led him to one of the innermost corridors in the sector, where Haggar's most delicate and valuable work was performed. They knocked twice at one of the doors, bowed again, then vanished into the shadows.
The door slid open silently, an obvious invitation. Lotor stepped inside, mouth opening to demand an explanation, then halted. He felt his jaw drop in spite of himself, his heart pounding in his chest.
Haggar glanced over at him, smiling. "Ah, you're just in time."
The room was filled with an array of complex life support machinery, channelling concentrated quintessence as well as vital nutrients and fluids through tubes and other devices he could not begin to guess the specific purpose of. But their overall, combined usage was made obvious by the still form lying amidst the mechanisms, body festooned with tubes and wires that the witch was in the process of disconnecting. As she carefully set aside the last few connections, her free hand danced over a control panel and the screens flashed in response. "My lord." She purred, sending a chill down Lotor's spine. "It is time for you to return to us."
For a long moment nothing happened, and Lotor felt a brief flicker of hope. But it was dashed as quickly as it had appeared as Zarkon drew in a deep, rattling breath, glowing eyes flashing open.
Slowly, Zarkon moved to sit up, his massive body shaking off the stasis it had been under without any apparent effort. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in every detail, and Lotor had no doubt he was rapidly drawing conclusions about past events and current affairs even from the scant information those surroundings offered. That his last battle against the Paladins had seriously injured him. That Lotor had been managing the Empire in his absence.
Sure enough, Zarkon growled low in his throat. "The Paladins?" He questioned.
"A continued thorn in our side." She scowled darkly, and flashed a furious look in Lotor's direction. Of course, he realized belatedly. Naturally he would be set to take the fall for her own errors in judgement. He didn't bother to conceal his disgust towards her. It wouldn't help him any if he did, or benefit him to openly protest. "We await the strong hand of your leadership to dispose of them once and for all."
"I see." Zarkon growled. He hefted himself to his feet, showing no sign of the massive injuries that had contributed new marks to the slashes of pale fur across his darker body. "My armor." He ordered sharply.
Haggar simply stepped aside, gesturing to a table where the Emperor's armor was laid out. Zarkon grunted and stepped forward to dress himself. A heavy silence settled into the room as he did so, broken by the clank of metal against metal and the soft hum of the now-idle machinery. Lotor held his place by the door, eyes narrowed as he watched both Haggar and Zarkon. Whatever their game might be, he would be ready. They would not find him an easy target. If he was, he would not have been heir.
Zarkon slotted his helmet back into place and turned. Lotor held his breath, every muscle tensing.
"You are dismissed. Remove yourself from Central Command at once."
Lotor faltered, suppressing a jerk of surprise. Dismissed? Not disposed of?
"Your ship will be supplied for an adequate journey. You have one hour to remove yourself and your possessions." Haggar's smile was cold, but the offer, for her, was unexpectedly generous. What, exactly, was she playing at?
"Thank you, Emperor, Lady Haggar." Lotor forced himself to respond, bowing low without taking his eyes off either of them. "It has been an honour to serve the Empire in your name." He stepped quickly out of the room, every sense alert, half expecting to feel a knife in his back at any moment. But no attack came, and he was permitted to go unmolested to his quarters and retrieve his belongings amidst the bustle of new orders moving throughout the command ship. He made his way to the indicated hanger and launched without preamble, flying a circuitous route into deep space.
Only when he forced himself to rest and take stock of his supplies did the pieces fall into place. In the very back was a large crate, containing twenty more of the modified mass vaccinators. His lip curled in a sneer. Of course. The witch did not want all her hard work on the weapon to go to waste, and Zarkon was far too set in his ways to make use of them.
He debated for a while, whether to play her game or not. The thought of letting himself be her pawn was sickening. And yet...strategically placed, he might use these, and the other eight remaining devices, to carve a new Empire out of the old, one that would spread outwards in an implacable wave and outstrip all Zarkon's accomplishments in a fraction of the time, at a fraction of the cost. And as the Galran people looked on in awe, Lotor would be able to step forward, point to everything that had been achieved, and ask them to choose: victory, at the side of the triumphant subjugator, or death, in the armies of the warmonger?
He burst out laughing at his own wordplay and reached for his tablet. Long fingers tapped out a message, selected several contacts from his list, and then gleefully tapped 'send.'