The team stood in stunned silence, staring at Keith in disbelief. Their five gazes were heavy and hard to meet. Keith avoided them, ashamed, his eyes not leaving the ground before him.

"He's gone?" Hunk said quietly.

Keith's arms crossed across his chest, feeling himself turning defensive. The scrutiny of their gazes was too much to bear, he felt like he was going to snap.

Deep breath: the team have a right to be disappointed. You lost Lance.

You lost Lance.

The three words still stung.

He had taken over Lance's lion, had let Lance leave to collect his knife. Quiznak, Lance was only there because Keith had attempted a stupid kamikaze mission.

Keith should have insisted that Lance fly Red: he had no claim to him now. Lance belonged as the right hand of Voltron - just because Keith missed being a part of the team doesn't mean that he can take over Red whenever he felt like it.

He had chosen to leave. He had no right to accept Lance's offer. He was supposed to stand quietly in the background and provide support: it was all he was good for now.

His mind took him back to his bedroom, where Lance had opened up to him about his insecurities. Keith couldn't believe it at the time: Lance's calm rationalisation of why he wasn't a valuable member of the team. Keith remembered standing stunned as the other boy talked himself out of Voltron as though he were nothing.

Lance had put up a front, saying it was what was best for the team. Had literally ticked off everyone's roles until Team Voltron was full and he was left standing on the outside by himself. He had paraded the conversation as battle necessity, that he was being level headed and doing the best for the team.

But it was clear to Keith where the words were truly coming from. Behind all that bravado, Keith knew there were insecurities hidden deep within Lance. Insecurities that were telling him he wasn't good enough.

Keith recognised them. Keith had been hearing those voices for as long as he could remember.

Telling him he wasn't fit to be a leader. Telling him that he wasn't Shiro, that he could never be good enough to lead Voltron. He was a hot head, he had a temper and he acted irrationally. He was no good for the team.

As Lance spoke, Keith had only one thought: he couldn't leave. Lance couldn't just back out of the team, they relied on him too much. He brought calm, and laughter - he had the ability to talk anyone down from the ledge of making a bad decision. Heck, from what Keith had been told, the only reason Voltron had escaped Naxzella was because Lance managed to calm Allura down enough to be able to take action.

He had convinced Lance that the team needed him. He had stopped Lance from leaving the team.

Keith had failed to convince himself.

And Keith had left the team, the same thing he had told Lance was a ridiculous idea.

Keith had been too close, he hadn't seen the similarities between the two of them. He felt bad: Lance must think he was such a hypocrite.

But standing here now, Keith knew he had been right. He was poison to Voltron, tearing the team apart again and again with his impatience. He was bad for Voltron, bad for the universe.

Not like Lance.

Lance's presence was calming. He knew when to take a step back and breathe. He knew how to make Keith do the same thing. He was the greatest defence against Keith destroying Voltron. He was the first paladin, the bond between Blue and him the strongest of any of them.

Before Keith had attempted to become a leader, and ended up ripping them apart.

He could calm Hunk's nervousness with a few choice words, ease Pidge's frustration when dealing with a difficult piece of tech. He was there when the team was exhausted and irritated, and he could set them back on course in a matter of minutes.

Voltron could not survive without Lance. That much was clear.

"He's not gone," Keith snapped. "He was taken."

"I'm going to try and track his helmet," Pidge announced, leaving the horde and plopping down in front of a computer.

"He isn't answering! The signal has been blocked." Keith's exasperation was threatening to spill over. He had considered this, had already experienced the disbelief. He was having to go through losing Lance all over again, experience it fresh as he told them, and the shame built with every minute that passed.

Pidge didn't answer, already lost to their tech.

"Keith, calm down," Shiro said, stepping forward as though to place a hand on his shoulder.

Keith flinched away: the last thing he deserved right now was Shiro comforting him. This was all his fault, why couldn't they see that?

Shiro paused, meeting his gaze. "There's nothing you could have done," He assured.

There was a million things he could have done! Time and time again he was blinded by selfishness and people got hurt.

"What would Lotor want with Lance?" Hunk asked, concern clear on his face.

"I don't know," Allura said honestly, hugging her elbows. "But it must be important if he has ignored the opportunity of a truce with the rebels. He's currently an enemy to both sides of the fight: no matter where he goes, he is going to encounter foes. He's given up a lot just to get ahold of Lance."

"Lotor is an enemy to the entire universe," Hunk said. "What happens when he runs into the wrong crowd? Lance could get caught right in the middle?"

"Lance will be fine," Shiro promised.

"He's trapped with the one of the most disliked people in the universe. Lotor has painted a target on his back: we need to get him back before he gets caught in the crossfire!"

Shame burned in Keith, keeping him held in place as it flooded through his bloodstream. His muscles were seizing up and he couldn't think: he was stuck imagining Lance stuck between the galra prince and one of his countless enemies, Lotor using him as a human shield.

"What if Lotor wants to trade him to his father in a plea for forgiveness?" Hunk suggested with a dark tone. The air in the room grew heavy at the thought of Lance being handed over to the Galra. Shiro's prosthetic curled into a fist.

"The Galra are not quick to forgive," Allura said.

Coran nodded in agreement. "Zarkon will not back down from his stance on Lotor, not now. Besides, Zarkon is after the lions, not the paladins." Coran's matter of fact tone stung.

But Shiro spoke up. "Exactly. Paladins can be replaced."

Awkwardness stirred as Keith felt them turn back to him, Shiro's failed replacement.

"Lotor knows he will not find sanctuary amongst the Galra ranks," Allura assured Hunk, trying to calm him. "Whatever reason he has taken Lance, he will need him kept safe."

"The Princess is right," Coran said. "Back in my day, the Galra were renowned for their fair treatment of prisoners of war. In fact…." Coran's eyes traced over Shiro and his voice trailed off, looking sheepish.

Team Voltron were experiencing new levels of awkwardness today.

"Guys!" Pidge's startling shout spurred the team into action, racing towards the screen. Keith hung back: although he was desperate to hear news about Lance he felt uncomfortable with the team. This was the first time he had seen them in months, he wasn't sure how he fit with them now, especially since he caused this whole mess.

The team had descended into a shoving mass, each crowding close to Pidge to get a close look at the screen. Pidge gave an exasperated sigh and pressed a button.

The room changed. The lights dimmed as the glowing blue and purple of the Altean map filled the space of the room, planets mere specs of colour, floating peacefully. The team stepped back from Pidge, looking around in wonder, trying to find whatever had prompted Pidge to get their attention.

Keith still stood alone, sectioned off in a slice of space separate from the team. He turned slowly, taking in the clusters of solar systems at his fingertips.

"Hang on," Pidge announced. The universe blurred, lines of colour rushing past as Pidge focused in on a section of space. The effect was nauseating, the whole world rushing past Keith's eyes, making him feel unsteady on his feet.

The planets that had appeared as mere specs a moment before were now basketball sized, spinning gently with their various moons.

"Where-" Hunk began to ask, but Keith spotted it. The flashing red lion insignia, travelling slowly through a purple field of debris. Keith walked towards it, the planets his body encountered bursting into purple stardust as he passed through, forming again behind him.

Lance was in Galra territory.

"Why would Lotor go here?" He asked, bemused. "Why not to some neutral section of space? Is he looking for a fight?"

He turned to face the team who had barely moved from Pidge's side. Shiro and Allura were staring intently, lost in their thoughts. Hunk was attempting to subtly watch Coran, not that the older Altean would have noticed. He was stood shock still, his face pale and waxen as though he was staring at a ghost.

"That's Daibazaal." Shiro announced, his voice uneasy.

"The Galran homeworld?" Keith asked. "Why would Lotor go there?"

"That," Allura paused for a moment, as though struggling to talk around the lump in her throat, "Is a very good question."

The red insignia had stopped moving, floating gently amongst the field of the destroyed planet. It was hard for Keith to imagine what the planet once looked like, before the Alteans had been forced to destroy it. He thought he should have some kind of connection to it, to this place where his ancestors had been born, raised. Instead he felt nothing, utterly indifferent to the mass of rubble.

For a moment, Keith swore he saw Lance's signal flicker.

"We need to get to the lions," Shiro ordered. "Allura, bring up a wormhole and then make your way to the Blue Lion. We have no idea how long they will be stopped for, we need to take advantage of this."

Everyone nodded tersely. Keith heard them beginning to exit the room, disturbed planets casting shadows as the paladins walked through them.

Keith didn't move: he was sure the signal had weakened for a second. Was Lotor working to block them out again?

"Keith." Shiro's authoritative voice cut through. "You need to get to the Red Lion. We need you buddy."

There. Again. The signal flickered again.

"Guys, there's something wrong with the signal."

"All the more reason to get moving," Shiro said. Keith could hear him walking closer, trying to jar him into action.

But Keith felt that there was something more to this. He moved closer to the destroyed home of the Galra. "Pidge, enlarge the image."

Despite Shiro's orders, the team had not dispersed, caught up in watching what Keith was up to. In a moment, Diabazaal filled the room, huge chunks of rock floating alongside Keith. He pressed forwards, weaving through the debris until he was within reaching distance of the red signal.

The signal flickered violently, disappearing for a second, and Keith's breath caught in his throat. "Pidge, stabilize the signal!"

"I can't!" They said, frustrated. "Something is interfering with our monitors. We're going to lose him."

"We need to move!" Shiro's voice grew louder as panic settled upon the team.

"Wait-" Keith pressed.

"We have waited! We're going to lose him."

Keith was transfixed, he couldn't move, he couldn't think. He knew this was stupid, he knew he was wasting time. But…but…

The signal's flashing sped up, almost as fast as Keith's pounding heartbeat.

"Keith!"

Shiro was right: Keith was being stupid. The frantic flashing spurred something in him.

"We need to go," He admitted quietly. He turned, feeling stupid for wasting their time.

A familiar yell filled the tense room, grinding everyone to a stop.

It came again, louder. Twisting in Keith's gut, letting lose a storm of panic and anger.

"QUIZNAK!" Lance screamed, the bite of the swear pulling at Keith.

"What the-?" Pidge yelled.

Lance's voice was bursting through the room's speakers.

"Lance?!" Keith shouted, turning back to the insignia.

The small, red signal had evolved, tripled in size and was a pure, glowing white. It was flashing like a strobe light, hurting Keith's eyes.

"Ahh! Keith?" The yell morphed into his name. He was so stunned he almost missed it.

"LANCE?" He shouted back, moving closer to the insignia. "Can you hear me!?"

"Yes!" Lance's voice was strained, Keith could tell he was trying to hold back further screams.

The pulsing insignia continued to grow. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously not!"

"We're coming. We'll be right there."

"No-"

"Yes!"

"No time!"

"What's happening?" Shiro shouted. Keith was reaching for the insignia, the crazy notion that he could use it to connect to Lance again, to let him know that he was there, that it would be okay.

"Lotor…he-" Lance's words dissolved into a string of breathless swears, most of them in Spanish.

The insignia was burning Keith's retinas, but he couldn't look away.

"You can't follow us." Lance said, fighting to sound calm and reasonable.

"WHAT!?" The team collectively yelled.

"Don't follow us," Lance pressed. "You need to destroy it. You can't-"

"Lance? Lance!"

Lance's voice tore itself apart, words replaced by primal screams. The insignia pulsed wilder and wilder. Keith reached for it, tried to grasp it.

"Lance? I'm going to find you." Keith's voice was barely a whisper. He had no idea if Lance could even hear him anymore, but he couldn't bring himself to speak any louder. "I promise this time. I will bring you back."

His fingertips brushed the glowing insignia. Like the planets, its light scattered, enveloping Keith in its white glow. He closed his eyes, the light finally too much for him.

Everything suddenly went dark. He opened his eyes a fraction.

The signal had disappeared.

The room had grown silent.

There one second, gone the next. Nothing left but a bunch of floating, purple rocks.