Part Two

Shiro woke up early, only having a few hours after having spoken with Keith and Pidge. That was common. His body was accustomed to little sleep. But he was fine with that since, even now, he got more sleep than he did under the tender mercies of the Galra. Memories flittered around the edges of his awareness and he forced them back as he continued forward. Coran was with Hunk and Lance, releasing their cuffs long enough for showers and morning ablutions, and he'd be doing the same with Keith and Pidge.

And maybe make sure Pidge couldn't lengthen their cuffs again.

Coran might have been the better choice for that, but it was Keith and Pidge. Shiro had connections to both of them from before Voltron. He didn't mind checking in on them since both had needed to be hit over the head with a few things the previous night. Or earlier that morning, depending on one's point of view. Besides, he knew he'd be spending the day with Hunk and Lance.

Both arms of Voltron were up and, to Shiro's pleased surprise, Pidge had already shortened the cuff. Both were also talking, clearly about how to handle showers, when Shiro knocked and came in.

"Okay, I'll take the cuffs," he said. "I'll give them back once you're at the training deck."

The two showed surprise, and maybe a little relief since there was no doubt that showering would be awkward.

"Don't be late. I need to talk to all of you before you start your days."

Keith nodded, never having been one for words, and Pidge replied with a perky, "Sure thing!" before racing off. Clearly she was glad to be going to a shower.

Shiro held in a chuckle.

"One hour," he told Keith. "Make sure she shows up."

"Will do."

Good. An hour would be enough time for everyone to wake up and get changed. So he headed up to see Allura and update her.

The princess was awake but not out of bed, her hair cascading out over the pillows. The pink in her pupils was darker, almost to black, and she lifted a hand up to rub one of her eyes as the mice gathered around her. "Morning, princess," he said lightly, giving her time to wake up more fully.

"Shiro…" she said groggily. She moved to sit up stiffly, and two mice bounced up her arm and into her hair, using it as firepoles to slide down. Was that the mice equivalent of combing…? "What news today?"

"Not much different than yesterday," he said honestly. "Nobody's been up in the vents yet - that will change today - and Pidge hasn't cracked the code to the Galra crystal yet. Nobody really followed directions and today Coran and I are going to make things a little more difficult."

"A normal day then," she replied, slightly dry. The two mice continued to comb her hair as the other two climbed up to her shoulders, squeaking in her pointed ear. Shiro wondered absently how sensitive the ears were. Allura stretched her back, first one way and then another, and Shiro noticed how thin she was, making a mental note to pass that to Coran and Hunk. Poor girl was downright bony. Did using so much energy to heal the Balmera take such a toll on the body as well?

"How fare the other paladins?"

"Training is… slow," Shiro said carefully. Allura wasn't awake enough or healthy enough to worry about things just yet, but he wasn't going to outright lie to her either.

"I see…" she said slowly, alertness trying to bleed through. "Perhaps dancing or combat," she added. "To make one aware of the other."

Shiro blinked, the idea worming its way into his head. That would be interesting…

He offered a warm smile. "I'll keep that in mind, princess," he said. "The boys should be up soon with your breakfast. Try to eat as much as you can."

She nodded absently, and Shiro idly wondered how much she was really absorbing. He'd have to check in later. Preferably after she got some food in her.

But then she looked at him, and though it was clear how exhausted she still was, even days after the Balmera, her eyes pierced through him and Shiro decided to amend that earlier thought. She was still aware.

"I was awake for three hours at a time yesterday," she said softly. "Today it will be four."

"Don't push yourself," he said gently. "For now, we're safe. Take the time to rest. Being in a war rarely lets one have such time. Take it while you can."

She smiled, softly, and one of the mice that was combing her hair shifted to her shoulder and nuzzled her. "Alteans are accustomed to using their energy for others. I will not take so long to recover as you think. The more energy I gain from my rest, the more of my energy goes into restoring my energy. Recoveries of energy depletion tend to heal more exponentially than constantly. Replenishment starts slowly, then accelerates."

Shiro raised an eyebrow dubiously. "I'll keep that in mind, Princess."

Allura nodded then yawned. "Now, as for the other Paladins, I shall expect an update this afternoon."

"If you are awake," he agreed with a wry grin.

"I shall be."

Shiro chuckled to himself, and took his leave. His next stop was Coran.

"It's true that Alteans can replenish their energy at an exponential rate," the old noble confirmed. "Much of technology, like this castle or the Lions are designed around quintessence and life's energy. It's like a muscle. Use it often and steadily and it will get stronger. If the Princess says she'll be awake for four hours, then she will be."

Shiro nodded. "I worry that she might be pushing herself."

"I know," Coran rubbed at his mustache, looking more serious than usual. "And she is, a little. But I'm hovering around far too much for her to get away with pushing too far. Rather like a Klokarian nekomwth."

The foreign analogy washed over Shiro and he took the underlying meaning that Coran meant. "I'd recommend you keep doing that," he suggested.

Coran gave a sly grin, eyes slanted to almost comedically cunning. "She couldn't stop me if she wanted to."

Smiling, Shiro patted Coran on the back. "Come on, we have some Paladins to yell at."

They arrived at the training deck and found the other Paladins there and waiting. Keith and Pidge were talking quietly, which Shiro expected after speaking to Keith the previous night. Lance and Hunk were also talking, or rather, Lance was doing all the talking and Hunk just smiled and interjected when he felt he needed to.

"Okay team," Shiro greeted, "yesterday was not a surprise, but it was disappointing."

All four had the decency to look abashed.

"Both groups found the easiest thing to do and stayed put in one spot unless absolutely necessary," Coran outlined. "The point of this exercise is to learn how to work together, no matter what you're doing. Not just sitting around and talking about whatever projects our engineers are working on."

Both pairs glanced at each other, then back to their partners.

"So today, instead of telling you to follow what one of you does, we're assigning some tasks as well as that," Shiro explained. He turned and nodded to Coran, and the old advisor nodded, pulling out the cuffs and stepping forward. "Lance and Hunk. You'll still be doing Lance's day today. However, since yesterday you were supposed to repair the vents through the castle, you'll be doing that first. I will accompany you to assist."

The legs of Voltron both sighed heavily, as what appeared to be the weight of the universe sank onto their shoulders hunching them down.

"Keith, Pidge-"

"Shiro," Keith softly interjected.

Shiro actually paused, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Pidge and I were talking," he said, and Pidge pulled out a long strip of cloth. "We think we understand where yesterday went wrong and we'd like a do-over."

"That's not fair!" Lance shouted. "We aren't getting a do-over, so you two shouldn't either!"

Shiro turned to Lance and frowned. "You two will be on your way now. I'll be along shortly."

"But-"

"I will decide and that will be all. You yelling before they or I have even said anything isn't going to help that."

Lance hung his head in defeat. "Fine," he grumbled. "Come on, Hunk. "Let's go."

"Woah! Wait! Count! Ooof!"

And they were both on the floor.

Shiro let out a breath and turned back to Pidge and Keith. "I'll start walking with you."

Another crash resounded behind them as Coran started pointing out where the nearest vents were.

"Right," they both said in unison.

They headed out the training deck and Shiro noticed something. "Did you two tie your hands even further together?"

"Yeah," Pidge answered. "We figured out why we weren't bothering with the point of the lesson. As long as Keith was loose, I could still do what I needed, even if we were cuffed together."

She held up their bound arms. Coran's cuffs were still there at the wrists, but cloth had now wrapped both of their hands together, preventing use of fingers and hand, as well as the arms that the cuffs put together.

"This is why we want a do-over," Keith added. "Pidge will still be doing the day as normal, but this way I'm actually needed at the keyboard for typing and we need to keep up with each other as well."

Pidge nodded. "That falls more in line with what this exercise is all about."

"Hmm," Shiro paused, actually impressed. Pidge's day was easier than Keith's was going to be for this exercise, and this might be a better ease-in than what they hadn't really done the previous day. They were at least wrapping their heads around what was needed and putting in an effort this time. Not that Lance and Hunk weren't trying, but they still weren't really working together to problem solve yet.

"This will work, but I will add one thing to your day."

"Yeah?" Pidge asked.

"Cooking."

"What?"

Shiro grinned. "There's no way Hunk will have time to cook today, and that leaves the only other options for cooking would be Coran-."

Both turned distinctly green.

"Or myself."

Keith paled.

"Can't you cook, then?" Pidge asked. "We're already going to be struggling with just typing and-"

"We'll cook," Keith said firmly.

"But-"

"We'll cook," Keith repeated. "Sorry, Shiro, but there's no way in this entire universe I'll have any of your cooking again, let alone with you trying to cook something from alien food."

"I thought you'd see it my way."

Keith shuddered.

Lance was bored. B. O. R. E. D. BORED. Coran had led them to a floor-access to the vents and given a map of where they needed to be to fix the damage from the Galra infiltration, but nobody had considered that Pidge was actually the smallest member of the team and therefore she (still getting over that he was a she, even now) had gone through the smallest vents possible to avoid the drones. It was a squeeze for Lance, let alone Hunk, and Lance was fairly sure that if Pidge was the one (in)directly responsible for the damage she should be the one to fix it.

But no, instead he and Hunk was pressed flat in a claustrophobic space, Hunk on his belly doing the work and Lance behind him on his back staring up at nothing.

He was bored to tears.

"I still say Pidge should be the one fixing this," he said.

"You're already said that like a million times," Hunk replied, voice carrying away from the blue Paladin. "It's not gonna change anything."

"But why shouldn't it?" Lanced asked, eyes tracing patterns in the scuff marks and dents of the enclosed space. "Who died and put Coran and Shiro in charge? It's a perfectly valid way to fix all the damage."

"Except that isn't the point of the exercise, it is?" said a new voice.

Lance startled (not shrieked, definitely not shrieked) very loudly and moved to sit up, forgetting temporarily how small the space was and banging his forehead into the ceiling of the vent. Hands shot up to clutch his forehead and cover his mouth of Spanish curses as he tried to twist around and away from the offending roof. He couldn't completely turn because of his bound ankle however, and he was stuck at just over ninety degrees, moaning into his hands as the throbbing to his forehead subsided.

When he could finally form words that could be listened to in polite company he twisted his head up to glare and Shiro, who was on his stomach and looking at him with a pleasant smile on his face. "You did that on purpose!" he accused.

"Is something important going on back there?" Hunk asked from his end of the duct, "Or is Lance just trying to distract me? I can't always tell sometimes."

"I do not!"

"Lance," Shiro said. "Pick one person to talk to."

The Paladin had a retort on his lips but considered for a split second. With the two of them stretched out and facing away from each other talking to Hunk was harder. Shiro was the only choice. Shifting around, Lance was able to get a little more twisted upright so he wasn't on his back. His bound leg was pinned under him, but at least now he could look at Voltron's glorious leader right-side up. "I choose you," he announced. "Because you are out of your mind."

"Uh, Lance, don't accuse the guy who's out of his mind that he's out of his mind. If he's out of his mind then it might drive him further out of his mind and make you lose your mind and-oh! There it is!"

Lance rolled his eyes, but Shiro just kept smiling politely, watching him waffle between two conversations. Hunk had stopped talking, though and Lance considered it one less distraction. "What's the point of all this?" he demanded. "How is tying us up making us closer?"

"Hunk said it himself yesterday," Shiro said, "Your team never passed a single simulation. Why?"

"How should I know?" Lance demanded, put out by the memory. "I did what I was supposed to. Hunk was always barfing into the engine block and Pidge had a whole other agenda like the entire time we were there. What did you expect?"

Shiro looked at Lance. No, he didn't look, he Looked, that scary expectant Look that Mama got sometimes, the one that said he'd done something wrong and had no idea what it was. The pause drew out, Shiro clearly waiting for Lance to figure it out, but the blue Paladin was clueless. It was exactly like he said - Hunk and Pidge didn't do what they were supposed to. He did. He flew the ship, he gave the orders, he tried to get them out of trouble when they messed up. It wasn't like he was deliberately sabotaging their teamwork - he'd even tried to get Hunk and Pidge to sneak out and hit the town - that was bonding, but then Shiro had crash landed and… and everything changed. He didn't understand what the Garrison had to do with the now, because the now was so radically different as to be unrecognizable.

Shiro's Look morphed slowly into a frown, and dark chocolate eyes narrowed. "Tell me what it was like," he said suddenly.

"... What?"

"Galaxy Garrison. Tell me what you thought of it. What was your first day like?"

Lanced stared for a second, unsure where this was going.

"Lance ran around the entire base screaming that he got in," Hunk happily supplied. "And I'm ready to move to the next vent. On three…"

Hunk started his perfect counting, and Lance shimmied accordingly, moving backwards down the vent as Hunk moved forwards, Shiro trailing after and watching Lance with a weirdly intense look. He made a motion, silently asking that Lance talk while crawling at the same time. Lance as distinctly dubious, he knew that was just asking for trouble. Shiro's look became more menacing and insistent, though, when Lance didn't start and the blue Paladin was forced to capitulate.

"I wasn't screaming," he said, needing to clear that up first. "But I really was super excited. That first day was like the first day of the rest of my life, I was sure it would be clear skies all the way." He could still remember the euphoria, the elation, drinking in every sight and sound and smell of the base, when everything was new instead of boring and samey. "I met Hunk in our room and we must have talked for an hour."

"And made us late for our first class," Hunk added helpfully. "Also, left turn coming up."

Lance stopped, turning his head around to look behind him and watch Hunk take the left turn. He continued to awkwardly crawl backwards into the turn, moving his ankle in time with Hunk. Shiro followed behind, and something in his frown eased as they kept time with their shared ankle. Lance ended up on his back again briefly, and the turn brought them to a vent with significantly more room - Lance could (almost) sit up straight if he craned his neck right, and the signs of the Glara infiltration were more obvious. There were several dings and dents, blaster scorch marks, and bits of debris from whatever chase had happened while Lance was apparently dying from an explosion.

Seeing the damage after the fact made everyone pause, drinking in the signs of the fight. Shiro's eyes were tight, he picked up a piece of something and held it in his hand, tiny tremors barely visible.

"So… we're going to obviously be here a while," Hunk said, shimmying over to a damaged panel and beginning the work of pulling it off. Lance stretched his leg out to give the engineer room and leaned back on the opposite wall. His eyes wandered, the sober feeling of the signs of battle slowly wearing away as he got used to the space. Hunk was mumbling as he did his work, straightening occasionally to pull something out or put something in. Shiro was… Lance looked again. Shiro was very, very still, his eyes tight and far away, as he held the piece of whatever-it-was in his fist. His breathing was shallow.

"Hunk…" Lance said softly, tugging his bound ankle to get the gold Paladin's attention. Hunk looked up and Lance jutted his head to Shiro. He saw what Lance saw and looked back.

"What do we do?" he asked.

Lance didn't know and said as much.

"I wish Keith was here," Hunk mumbled - Lance stiffened in anger almost immediately but the engineer continued in ignorance, "He was the one doing all the reading on PTSD so he would know what to do, cause I don't know what to do."

"I guess we just have to wait for him to come back," Lance said softly. "How long do these usually last?"

"I don't know. I've never seen him do one - not with Keith banishing me as soon as I saw it. Do you think the castle has a pager? Like, 'paging Keith, paging Keith, Shiro's having a flashback could you please report to vent…' Actually, where even are we?" Hunk started to reach for his map but Lance put a hand on his arm.

"Just get back to work," Lance said. "I do know that he doesn't want to turn these things into a big deal, so maybe if we pretend it's not happening that will make him feel better?"

"But-"

"Hunk, could you please just do what I say?" Lance said, and there was no pleading in his voice whatsoever. Honest.

Hunk frowned of course, deeply, and cast more than one worried glance at Shiro, but he eventually turned back to the open panel and started working. Lance stared at Shiro in the meantime, rubbing his chin and trying to think of a way to help. No one in his extended family had PTSD, but he did have that one high-strung aunt and a cousin on the other side of the family that had "episodes". Actually, what did they say she liked…?

Lance threw another look to Shiro, still lost in his own head, and decided it couldn't hurt. Hugging him was probably out of the question, but Lance started humming, a simple children's song his cousin liked, dusting off the tune from memory before he could recall the words. It had been forever since he had spoken Spanish, everyone at the Garrison spoke English and Lance had grown up with the second language, but he fell into his first language easily, finishing one verse and moving on to the second before he started over. He wasn't a world class singer the way his great-grandfather supposedly was, but he carried a tune well enough and the song brought up memories of home - holding his cousin when she was upset, biking in high summer, hiding under the beds during a hurricane, the sound of dancing and drums and the salty smell of the ocean. He didn't know how long he sang but eventually he drifted off, lost in his own memories before he shook himself back and glanced over to Shiro.

No change.

Lance shrugged and sang a different song, a dusty pop ballad that was popular when he was barely a toddler, and then a soft lullaby he would sing to his younger siblings, then one of his favorite church hymns... he cycled through the songs he could remember the words to, mind drifting with the memories attached to them. Hunk looked up once or twice, a soft look on his face, before he nodded and got back to work.

Eventually, as Lance's mouth was starting to dry out, a hand touched his shoulder. Lance looked over to see Shiro back to himself, watching him with - was that a smile?

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," he said softly.

Lance blinked. "Dude, I'm from Cuba."

Shiro's smile grew slightly bigger. "I didn't know that, either." A pause, then, "Thank you."

Lance hadn't expected that for some reason, the surprise made him stiffen, but he nodded his acknowledgement anyway. "... Are you okay?" he asked, very carefully.

"Better, now," Shiro answered, just as carefully.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hunk asked from his position at the panel. "Keith said it helps to talk about it."

Shiro didn't say anything for a long time, Lance almost wondered if he would drift off again, but the black Paladin shook his head and placed the object he had been clutching so tightly down on the floor of the vent. Color was hard to tell with the pink lights, but it looked… green. Wait - was that a piece of Pidge's jetpack? Lance traced back his memory to remember what the girl had said about her part in the Galra infiltration, but he had just come out of the healing pods and the memory was a little blurry. He looked up to Shiro, but the leader of the Paladins was looking at him now, focus on the object distinctly closed.

"Tell me more about Garrison," he said. "Were you always late for class?"

"Uh…"

"Yes," Hunk said, able to switch topics with more practiced ease. "He always made me late, too."

"Why?"

"Usually because he was trying to chat up some girl or show off to some guy."

"I did not!"

Shiro leveled a Look so perfect it was like the last fifteen minutes hadn't happened at all, and Lance squirmed.

"Only reason he got it was because Keith dropped out," Hunk supplied, sitting up and studying what looked like a wire. "Was determined to show everyone he was actually the best."

"Hunk!"

"What?" the traitor said, looking up from his work and shrugging his shoulders. "You told me that like every night at lights out, it's not like it was some kind of secret."

"It wasn't like that…!"

Shiro was smiling again, sitting cross-legged in some random vent and hunched over, elbows on knees. "What about the simulations?" he asked. "Hunk said Iverson made an example of you?"

"It wasn't my fault Pidge couldn't reach the overhead switches or Hunk had no stomach to speak of!"

"Hey!"

"Okay," Shiro said simply, forestalling any argument with his bland acceptance. "Fine. Pidge and Hunk had problems. What did you do for them? Or were you too busy trying to impress the instructors with your flying skills?"

Lance had about four things he could say, but Shiro had hit the nail on the head a little too hard, and he struggled to find a decent counter argument.

Hunk, once again, blithely thought to add his two cents. "He looked out for Pidge," he said, "We all thought she was a he back then, and he was just so short and so young, and had a chip on his shoulder about the Kerberos mission every time anyone even said a word. Lance got in the habit of covering his mouth when he got started, and tried to direct attention away from him. You know, now that I think about it, I think he tried to drag Pidge along when he made me sneak off base with him. We were looking for him when you crashed on earth. In fact, that was why we even knew you had crashed."

Lance squirmed again, uncertain how Shiro was going to take any of this - that he snuck off base regularly, that he tried to get others in trouble, that he wasn't where he was supposed to be when Shiro crashed. He wanted to defend himself but didn't quite know how (aside the obvious option to blame Keith, but that was neither here nor there), and while he would never admit it he understood that he was usually responsible for the trouble they got into at Garrison. Wincing, he threw his eyes back to Shiro and waited for the worst.

Shiro said nothing, however, just rubbed his chin, thinking, a soft, "... interesting…" escaping out of his mouth.

Finally, he looked up. "Well, that gives me something to work on. I'll check in with Pidge and Keith, you two keep working and let either me or Coran know when you're ready to come out of the vents."

"Will do, Shiro," Hunk said.

Shiro nodded, reached down and took Pidge's green jetpack and started to turn. "Oh, and Hunk," he added, almost but not quite an afterthought. "Make Lance help you. It will prevent his boredom."

"What?"

"Okay."

Keith decided that actually getting to know Pidge, having actual conversations with her about her work, was, sadly, going to be a necessary thing.

He preferred to work alone, and now he was with a team to form the universe's most deadly weapon, he understood that some level of connection was required. Having spoken with Shiro early that morning when everyone else was asleep, he acknowledged that he needed to put in more of an effort.

That effort was now necessity for the other arm of Voltron.

Keith was not a dumb person. Galaxy Garrison only took the best and the best and the brightest. Every person who applied to the Garrison was the top of their class, the honor valedictorians. Even Lance - who never once acted like it - must have been the best of all Cuba. Keith knew the numbers, had taken all three calculus' before entering Garrison, knew analytic geometry and physics. He understood how valued intelligence was. Just because he could do the work, however, didn't mean he enjoyed it. His true pleasure was in the sky, making spur of the moment decisions, letting the feel of the shuttle - of the Lion - inform him just as much as variables and tangents and trajectories. He was smart. His intelligence was in other places, but he was smart.

But if he ever hoped to keep up with Pidge enough to be able to predict her moves, to understand her methods of thinking, he'd need to know what projects had attracted her attention, and how her brain flitted from one thought to another.

Having spent the past few hours together, it was apparent that she was a genius. That was obvious whenever one listened to her spout about anything, let alone the fact that she had grasped the basics of alien technology enough to understand and then modify it. Keith vaguely wondered how many sleepless nights had taken place to understand the invisibility maze and to then install it in her Lion.

The mind truly boggled.

And after having spent so many hours glaring at a computer screen, typing along with her on the laptop, and offering his own suggestions for the coding… well…. He knew he was outclassed.

Every time he thought he had a grasp of what she was doing, the details would throw him for a loop. It was frustrating. Pidge was mostly patient, but it was clear that she was used to working with Hunk who had a better hope of understanding what she was talking about with three-state systems, trinary variables, and elemental minerals that didn't even exist in concept back on earth and their conductivity.

"No, link the global parameters to the local variables," Pidge scowled, the hours of working together clearly pushing her patience.

Keith's eye twitched. They still had an afternoon and evening of this ahead of them. Forget the previous day, there was no way Keith was coding into the night like Pidge normally would. That would be suicide.

"We need a break," he finally said.

"But we're so close! Just a few more procedures and we might finally crack-"

"Pidge," Keith hissed, leaning back and pulling their shared arm with him. "We need a break. Before I break."

"Ah… oh," the green Paladin had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry," she muttered.

Keith let out a long sigh and used his free hand to rub at his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled back. All this analysis and problem solving to just get one line of code right was so repetitive and there was so little progress…

Pidge also let out a long breath and leaned back in her chair. "Really, sorry," she said softly. "Looking at all this data, coding around it. It must be hard."

"I just can't keep pace with you," he admitted very, very quietly. "I get what you're going for, but all the little pieces…"

She nodded. "We'll do something different for the afternoon," she replied. "I'll think of what after we eat lunch. Think Hunk's done cooking yet?"

Keith may have let out an unpleasant work. "We're supposed to get lunch, remember?" he growled.

Her wince was subtle, but Keith caught it. He took it as improvement that he could even see that. He wouldn't have previously.

"Can't Shiro-"

"No," Keith replied firmly. "Just…. No."

Her expression was dubious, but she didn't question it. Keith was grateful. The less said about that the better. "Come on. We need to figure out what is what in the kitchen and then how to cook it. It's either that or space goop."

"No thanks," Pidge replied, standing and walking with him. "I'll take that goop in a pinch, but Hunk cooking with fresh ingredients, no matter how bizarre is always the better option."

Keith nodded. "Think he's labeled anything for us to be able to figure out?" She would know better than him.

Pidge's eyes narrowed before she let out a defeated breath. "Probably not. He's very protective of his domains."

"We'll just have to wing it then."

But Pidge was already turning back to her lab. "Maybe if we get some instruments, we can look at the molecular structure of some of the ingredients," she said, ideas clearly already starting to generate. "Compare with the minerals that make food sweet or salty or sour… Then we can mix them?"

"No," Keith said firmly, tugging at their joined hands. "We've already done enough coding. That kind of device would require more hours, and we're both starving."

"Fine, fine," she grumbled. "I doubt anything we can cook will be any better than whatever Shiro or Coran could make."

Keith doubted that from the very bottom of his soul. He held back a shudder.

"Leave the cooking to me," he offered. "If you can help me with slicing and dicing, I can probably cobble together something at least palatable."

Pidge returned to her dubious look.

Keith rolled his eyes. "I've been living on my own for years. Even before the Garrison. I know the basics of cooking, and beyond just opening a box of something."

Living in the desert, after all, meant that he couldn't always get into town for supplies. He'd buy in bulk to store in his freezer and he could handle cooking from that.

Once in the kitchen, they both started opening cabinets and looking to see what was even available. Pidge offered a flat-eyed look. "Well, on the plus side, Hunk was smart enough to actually label everything."

Keith nodded, an eye twitching in irritation.

"On the minus side, it's not labeled in English."

Deep breath, breathe out. Keith took another deep breath and breathed out. He was really near the end of his patience and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Alright," he grumbled. "Let's start opening containers. Let me smell them."

Pidge was already muttering about analysis and how to determine what ingredient might go with what. And that made sense. It was how she viewed the world, in zeros and ones, in base components and systems. There was something to be said about that. There was value in stepping back three or four paces from a problem to see the big picture and there was value in zooming in with a magnifying glass to better understand how everything ticked. Having that baseline always made decisions more informed.

He quietly worked with her to cut vegetables that smelled like something Hunk had made before and then he carefully looked at and smelled the various meats to their selection.

Looking at how Pidge worked that way, Keith sort of envied her. While she may not always make the best decisions, she always had a clear train of logic and analysis to get there. Keith had to admit, even if only to himself, that while he was good with instinct, sometimes his instinct didn't have enough baseline knowledge. Looking back on some of his decisions, especially after his father had died, he couldn't help but wonder if he had known more if his instincts would have guided him somewhere else.

Instinct could only work as well as what the instinct was based on, wasn't it?

So Keith might be the best when it came to having good instincts, but perhaps he could improve his instincts further by just having a larger knowledge base.

Something to consider, certainly.

Keith set up the cook top and slowly added first the meat, which he watched till it was browning, then had Pidge help him add what he assumed to be vegetables. Pidge held the pan in place, while Keith just focused on stirring.

"Are you sure about these ingredients?" she asked. "I don't know if these go together or not. They're completely unfamiliar, and Hunk didn't even write anything down in a way we can understand!"

"It'll be fine," Keith replied.

"But how do you know that?"

"The smell."

Pidge actually paused. "The… smell?" she asked with a small level of incredulity.

"Does it smell good?" Keith asked.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then we're doing fine."

"But that doesn't make any sense! How are we supposed to know if it's safe or not? If it's poisonous or not? If it's overcooked or undercooked? Or if there's too much seasoning or not enough?"

"Pidge, are you expecting me to be a gourmand?"

The green Paladin haltered her rant. "Well, no, but…."

Keith let out a low sigh. "Pidge, trust me."

She scowled, but stopped questioning everything he did. Finally. In this, at least, he trusted his instincts. He trusted that he would know what would smell good and what would smell bad. He trusted that Hunk kept the kitchen filled with palatable things and anything not labeled by the mechanic and instead by, say Coran, was to be treated as highly suspect. It may not have the absolute best combination of flavors to suit a trained palate, but it would be better than nothing or whatever Coran could cook and far and away better than anything Shiro could cook.

"Ready to dish out."

"I guess," she replied sullenly, but dutifully lifted the pan so that he could slowly dish out his sort-of-stir-fry to seven different plates. It was a little awkward, and the plates didn't exactly look pretty, but it smelled good which was enough for Keith.

"Water to drink?"

"Oh yes," she replied. "That I can trust."

Glasses of water and flatware were gotten and the two sat down.

"It does smell good," Pidge said softly as Hunk and Lance tripped in to eat.

Keith only nodded, eyes on the hall when he noticed Shiro. He always was aware of Shiro, after all. There was a tightness around Shiro's eyes that Keith didn't like, but as he watched, they were relaxing. He must have had some sort of episode, but was getting better. Keith frowned.

His left arm was yanked more firmly.

"Hm?" he looked to Pidge who had clearly still been talking to him. "Sorry," he mumbled, glancing down.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced to where Keith had been watching and saw Shiro come in. She relaxed and nodded. "I get it," she said softly. "We all look out for him."

"I know. It's just…." He couldn't explain it. He'd known Shiro longer, Shiro was the only family that Keith really had left, he would always be aware of Shiro now that he had him back because of that. He wanted to be there for Shiro as Shiro had been there for him and when he couldn't, he just felt…. That Pidge dealt with his night terrors instead of him….

Pidge's shoulder nudged him. "It's okay," she said softly. And it had to be softly to him since Lance was already dominating conversation as they all sat down and Coran escorted Princess Allura in to eat. "We all fill in the gaps. We all watch and help. But you were there first and that won't ever change."

The corner of Keith's lips twitched to a smile. "Right."

"Well at least Hunk and I don't have to feed each other like some people!" Lance was proclaiming.

Well, Keith decided that needed a proper retort. "At least we can walk."

"Hey!"

Author's Notes: Certain Voltron characters we love, other's we're apathetic to and don't see the appeal of. Having said that though, we always try to respect all the characters and give them their due. Lance's archtype has never and will never hit our buttons the way Shiro, Pidge, and Keith do, but we understand he is somehow popular and have done what we can to give him fair representation in the fic. He was shown to be honestly sensitive in later seasons so we used that do our advantage here.

Keith meanwhile starts to show where his specialty lies versus Pidge. The two of them have the most emotional hangups to work through while Lance and Hunk ultimately need to get their heads in the game, and it makes for an interesting dynamic and way to play off of each other.

Also, note Shiro's episode. We do have an episode this fic is supposed to precede and we have to build up to it. Ergo fixing the vents from Pidge's "Die Hard in SPACE" and studying the Galra crystal that was left behind, and Shiro... well. More on that later.

Also, Allura and Coran had moments. Allura in particular will get more later, but they both tend to fade in the background when the Paladin's are underfoot. More on them later as well.

As always, let us know what you think!