In the end, they did manage to destroy the military stronghold at Ronan, if only from Pidge's immense hatred from having been stuck there for almost two vargas has spurred her to destroy it the minute that she had the chance. She shouted with triumph as she walked out of the hangar, grinning widely and proud. Shiro saw the stats; she handled a more than average number of enemy vessels today and she had every right to be proud.

Behind her, Lance and Hunk wrapped an arm over each other in relief at finishing the mission in one piece. And at one point they also jokingly - with a very mild tone of seriousness - expressed how incredibly lucky they were that Keith was more than capable for the mission else "Shiro would skin us alive."

Not that Shiro would actually skin them alive. "I think I'd rather just make you do suicide runs," he said to them, patting them both on their shoulders and walking right in between the pair to get ahead. But he hadn't missed the priceless fear in their eyes and the nervous laughs, and he too, laughed, though with much more amusement than Lance and Hunk, because Shiro was anything but joking about how upset he was when Keith went on the mission. Though that anger had dwindled down to an underlying anxiety that had him set on one objective at the moment: to see Keith. To check on him, and to feel his pulse on Shiro's fingers.

It was another fear that manifested itself since that mission with the Blades. And Shiro couldn't say he was proud of it, nor could he say that it was entirely rational, because nothing he did will ever be fully rational when it came to Keith.

They stood around the consoles of the bridge where Keith and Coran was already standing, and Shiro had the urge to trudge over there and pull Keith into a tight hug. On the holoscreens were captains of the rebel force. Behind them, Shiro could see the numerous people that were part of their cause, standing tall but with a weariness to their eyes. They were all tired by then - the mission had dragged on longer than any of them anticipated, and now they were once again going into debriefs, if only for formality's sake. Post-mission debriefs were usually reminders for the higher ranking officers to be reminded that they had reports to write, back on Earth. They needed to record the day's events and these debriefs helped fill in gaps for others where they missed out in the midst of the battles.

He was surprised to know that he had to write one in the first place, and that the Alteans had similar habits to that of Earth's military. It still didn't mean Shiro liked them because obviously, he was the one that was going to write it. Lance had tried to write one in his stead, but with his less than experienced penmanship with writing such reports, it took Shiro and Pidge an entire day to proofread and edit.

When all was done at debriefs, the Paladins slumped to the ground, quite literally dropping to the floor of the bridge. Lance allowed himself to lay spread eagle on the floor with a relieved groan, Hunk sat himself down on the steps, leaning back against one of the consoles, Pidge practically melted into her chair, and Allura stepped off her controls to also recline against the consoles. Coran congratulated them on a mission well done with an enthusiasm that Shiro still couldn't figure the source to, and dismissed them to care for themselves whilst he would care of the rescued Taroussenes that have been placed in the banquet room.

Yet Shiro found himself still standing stiffly, unable to truly relax as he glanced over to Keith, who made no move to leave after the rest of the paladins had filed their way out, but instead was arguing with Coran about helping him out.

His armour was only slightly scruffed, his face was smeared with dirt in places and his hair stuck up in odd angles and clumped in places that made him look as if he had been rolling in a playground. Yet despite all that, Shiro hadn't seen Keith so at ease with himself in a long while. He was relaxed, yet still radiating an air of confidence and authority that Shiro used to see in every determined glance that he made - it was something he lost for a while, alongside his vision. But it was back now, and Shiro smiled slightly at the sight, glad for its return.

Coran left the room with a smirk as he got his way, and Keith sulked as he watched the man leave the room.

"I'm guessing Coran won that argument." Shiro said as he approached.

"Shiro." Keith turned to him in greeting, smiling in return with a sincerity and brightness that did things to Shiro's lungs. Somehow, the dirt and wild hair did nothing to dampen the brilliance of Keith's endearing grin.

Shiro pulled Keith into a crushing embrace then, finally , taking in Keith's warmth, his smaller frame and the feel of Keith's own arms wrapping around his ribs. Shiro buried his face into the mess of dark hair, just to breath in the smoke and dirt infused smell, and beneath it, something distinctly Keith's. It was a relief in itself to be able to hold him so close, and tension finally seeped from Shiro's body, his body almost draping himself over Keith's.

"You alright?" Keith asked, and Shiro only held him tighter in response. When he finally pulled back from their hug, a pair of eyes stared up at him with guilt.

"Sorry," Keith said. Sadness lumped Shiro's throat because of how utterly soft and careful the words were spoken. Keith avoided his eyes, biting his lip. "Are you mad?"

He wanted to say yes, because Keith drove him mad every single day in ways that were incomprehensible. And Keith made him laugh, cry, and worry so much he might have been sick with it. But the only thing worse than worrying about Keith, was Shiro's fears being realised - that one day Keith won't be there for him to come back to. He wanted to say a billion things, yet there was something sad in Keiths' eyes that he couldn't quite get, as if somehow his anger was more terrifying than flying a Galra fighter blind. And the thought was enough to burn away the words on his tongue.

"I was." Shiro sighed instead, and tipped his head up and used a thumb to pull Keith's bottom lip from his teeth with a small amount of disapproval. They were dry enough as they were in the recycled dry air of the castle, there was no need for them to bleed as well. "But I was also wrong."

This close, Shiro could see Keith's eyes widening, revealing that violet of his iris that Shiro have always loved, even now when the colour had faded to a paler pastel. "I'm so proud of you, Keith."

"Yeah?" Keith's voice was timid, breathless.

"Yeah." Shiro moved to pull him into another hug, but softer, gentler, one that had Keith caught surprised and unaware. And experimentally, he put dragged his hands into Keith's hair, pulling at the bottom of the long strands that are far past Garrison standards.

"Shiro?" Keith chuckle was perhaps equally soft, scared of disturbing this silence they were surrounded by. Shiro pulled him close, afraid of letting go in an unexplainable way as if he feared Keith would slip away the minute he left. But in truth, he felt that the gesture was more for him. The body next to him was the only thing that could stop him from spilling his every fear and thoughts of the worst case scenarios that went through his head when Keith was down there by himself.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the man in front of him - no, Shiro trusted Keith with his life, with his every being and perhaps even his heart. But that was the issue wasn't that. Keith was always giving despite having so little, and Shiro only wondered when there was nothing left to give, what then?

"I'm sorry." He spoke lightly into Keith's ear, feeling Keith turn his head slightly in question. Shiro continued. "I'm sorry for not trusting you. I know I should, because you're anything but incapable of taking care of yourself, but it doesn't make me worry any less."

"I know I haven't exactly made it easy for you either."

"Since when do you ever make things easy for me?" They both laughed, and Shiro finally released Keith from his arms, his hand sliding from Keith's shoulders, down the length of those sculpted arms and to his ungloved hands.

"I told you to not give up on yourself." Shiro said, almost as light as whispers. "You weren't wrong for trusting yourself. I was, for not believing in you like I promised."

This was perhaps what he considered his biggest disappointment in his life thus far. For Shiro with all his big talks and promises suddenly found himself a liar and a hypocrite. A steady hand was always Keith's back to push him on, to let him know that Shiro would always be there to guide him and be with him no matter what. But somewhere in his attempt to in trying to protect Keith, to keep him from harm and to get him back on his feet, he had forgotten to ask Keith for directions and what he truly wanted.

He should have known better. He had known Keith the longest, and somehow Lance, Hunk, Coran and Keith, himself, have all proved otherwise. Shiro knew far less than what he should. The crushing knowledge that Shiro failed him as a mentor and leader sat heavy in some pit in Shiro's gut. But the most painful knowledge that struck a chord in his heart, was the fact that Shiro failed Keith as a friend, and he can't make an excuse for himself in any way for this error.

"It's alright," Keith reassured him, as if knowing the turbulent thoughts running through his mind. "I don't blame you. I barely know myself these past phoebs."

"Either way, I'm still sorry. You were invaluable to the mission, and I couldn't see past your injuries to find what I have always known you to be."

Keith looked at him expectantly, confused. "What you've always known I am to be?"

"Incredible." Shiro said.

A slight blush crept to Keith's cheek and Shiro couldn't help but smile in marvel at the sight. Keith was the epitome of all the wonderful aspects of the unexpected. He helped the Taroussene more than Shiro ever could since the very beginning of this mission. Parts of Shiro was proud, jumping in joy since that night Keith told him of his newfound vision. But now, tired and adrenaline running low in his blood, and uglier being approached, reminding him of all the ways he failed not just with Keith and the paladins, but also the Taroussenes - those that they made promises to save and protect, those that look to them for hope and freedom.

Yet all he gave them was a city almost entirely burnt to ashes as the Galra did their damned best to bring Ronan to the ground with their defeat. The protection at every other base on the planet had increased due to the attack, and cities have been quarantined. Sooner or later, those stuck inside will begin to suffer; human history had taught Shiro as much. And Voltron was the cause of that suffering.

Shiro found his legs suddenly too weak to support him - the energy he had during the battle vanishing, and he forced himself to sit on the steps before he fell over. Keith was startled at this, and gave him a worrying glance over for injuries or wounds to explain his sudden collapse.

"You okay?" Keith's hand reached for his shoulder and squeezed it, like a grounding force that Shiro thought he had always been.

He gave Keith an unconvincing reassurance of a smile, "It's nothing. Just the adrenaline finally wearing off."

"I won't pry but… you used to tell me that I shouldn't bottle up my thoughts only to one day open up that bottle to find myself overwhelmed by how much shit I haven't dealt with."

Humans tended to leave things on the backburner to deal with after everything is done only to eventually to drown in all the things they forgot to deal with. People usually got sick right after a stressful project finished. PTSD symptoms showed up after the ordeals.

Shiro remembered explaining that. It was all the way back at the Garrison, when Keith was still that scrawny delinquent that had as much faith in people as he had for hope for seeing pigs fly. And Shiro, ever the counselor, was trying to break down those concrete walls built so high. Now the situation had been reversed, and Shiro hadn't even realised the walls that he started to build around himself since his captivity. On the other side was Keith, trying to claw his way through.

The thought warmed him, but he couldn't let them down yet. He would deal with this later. Now wasn't the time to breakdown and deal with anything yet.

"I'll tell you one day, I promise," Shiro said.

Keith gave him another concerned look but didn't say a word, as if realising the metaphorical boundaries that Shiro had set up with a frown.

Shiro wiped his hands tiredly over his face to wake himself up. "You should take a break for the next few days. Let Coran handle the Taroussenes and let the others handle diplomacy for a while."

"And you?" Keith countered. "Are you planning on taking the burden of all of it again? You're the one that looks like you need a break right now."

"I promise I'll take breaks and divide the tasks out." Shiro chuckled dryly. "I'll be fine by tomorrow. I guess we're all a bit tired after today."

He stared in surprise as Keith took his hand off Shiro's shoulder and situate himself down on the steps right next to Shiro. Then he forcibly pulled Shiro close so that his head leaned over to Keith's shoulder, resting his weight onto the smaller frame next to him.

"No one's expecting you to be invincible, Shiro." Keith sighed as his arm draped over Shiro's leaning body. And Shiro also found himself finally exhaling a breath of relief before allowing himself to close his eyes, savouring the tender touches of fingers brushing the back of his head.

Somehow it felt as if they were always busier after the battles than leading up to and fighting the battles themselves. Shiro didn't mind - it was a good way to make himself feel useful whilst taking his mind of how utterly tired he felt.

Most of the days following were spent helping with the reconstruction of Ronan's infrastructures, which included of a lot of supply runs and acting as heavy lifters. Shiro found himself trapped in debriefs after debriefs, discussing the next move to take in their plan to return governing power to the people of Tarousse. There were more strategy planning, and new information was coming in every day with Seth's arrival every morning.

The news had spread that Voltron had arrived, and rebel groups from all over the planet seemed to have found a new energy to push forward, risking their life to get information out of their quarantined cities. No one could deny the severity and seriousness of their determination, and no one could deny the bravery of their actions.

If there was one thing that was universal, Shiro supposed it would be that one silver lining in the grey clouds. There was a burning hope that was ablaze within every colonized planet that they have come across. And in the face of Zarkhon's ten thousand years old totalitarian empire, these people saw Voltron as the flaming beacon calling them to act. It comforted Shiro somewhat to know he was doing something right for these people.

The rescued Taroussenes were offered the choice of returning to Ronan or leaving for a Coalition allied refuge planet. Though there were many that had also chosen to join the Rebels. They had questions at first as to what the Blade of Marmora were if not intergalactic rebels, but thankfully Shiro wasn't the one who had to explain to them such things as a Galra espionage agency.

The paladins were great moral support for all those that were hostages. They were thanked profusely, and Keith most of all for leading the rescue team. Keith had taken time between meeting to talk to them in the grand hall where they were temporarily situated, and Shiro joined him most days after lunch, partly because he felt obligated to as a paladin, but partly because it was an extra hour or so spent with Keith.

Something really shined in Keith during these moments when he's out there trying to help people. Shiro found himself staring in awe and if a bit enraptured by the grace and casualness of how Keith held himself. It made Shiro a poor listener when all he could focus on was how Keith's eyes changed colours in a magical way whenever he demonstrated and discussed alien techniques with the Taroussenes. Though not many would blame Shiro for being distracted.

One of the elderly Taroussenes only laughed at Shiro after realizing his attention was a bit elsewhere. "He's an amazing person, your lover," they said to him.

Shiro sputtered, tripping over his words as he tried to place his attention back into the conversation in front of him. Heat rose to his face. "He's not – we're not – we're not lovers."

The Taroussene raised their eyebrows (which looked more like a subtle of skin moving upwards above their eyes, because they really didn't have eyebrows, given how deep their brow bridge were). "How is that even possible?"

"We just… aren't?" He smiled pathetically.

"Everyone in the room can tell how much you two love each other! Can you not see his aura radiating whenever you speak to him?"

"You forget that not all species sees auras, Pops," his grandson reminded. "What we see may not be so obvious to the paladins." He turned to Shiro. "Sorry, my grandfather is a bit of a romantic at heart. He firmly believes that auras will tell you all you need to know about a person, and how much they love you and so forth."

Shiro grinned. "It seems like a beautiful thing to be able to see."

"It's true to some degree." The young Taroussene shrugged. "You two do seem quite enamoured with one another. I was also surprised to know that you aren't lovers."

"Am I that obvious?" Shiro scratched his head with some embarrassment, as if he had been called out by his relatives for hiding some secret lover behind their backs. He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed by the attention to his love life or the fact that his pining was so dramatically loud that every person in the room accepted that Keith was his lover as easily as accepting that "blue is blue." Everyone besides Keith, that is.

The grandfather chuckled good naturedly. "You will work yourselves out. Everything eventually will as well. How did you think I even found my wife?"

His grandson groaned in a dramatized agony. "Pops, please don't – OW!" He yelped as his grandfather's four arms smacked his backside and head.

"No interrupting the elderlies when they're speaking. What would your Nan think of you if she hear you groaning about simply entertaining your Pops?"

Shiro left the pair to settle their belongings afterwards for his own bit of thinking with this strange new information. He was surprised that he hadn't just frozen up at knowing that yes, Keith is apparently also "enamoured" by Shiro to some degree. And it made every encounter with Keith after felt like a grand ordeal.

Shiro had wondered many things by then, but he still couldn't stop asking why his mind was so utterly useless at acting its age, and why his heart couldn't stop making him feel like he'll go into cardiac arrest for just seeing Keith in that very well-fitted armor.

(Then again, he questioned if CPR was even an option to treat cardiac arrest and how long it would take before Keith decided to try the inevitable move that defined badly written romances. They don't even teach that anymore. It's all about chest compression, to begin with.)

Keith asked him to spar after a long while, which Shiro was reluctant to agree to in the beginning. The reason was more to do with what he now doesn't know about Keith's fighting style, more than he was afraid of hurting Keith. And Shiro told him as such, Keith proved Shiro precisely correct for being apprehensive by toppling him over with his thighs around Shiro's neck in their very last round, almost choking him.

(Again, Shiro thought that there were worse ways to die.)

Keith was happier, more at ease in his own skin as if he had found his calling. And Shiro found himself smiling too, at the genuine laughs that he heard - the first one since a very long time ago.

It took Kolivan two doboshes before he showed up on the console to answer Keith's call.

"Keith," Kolivavn greeted, and that was about as affectionate that one would expect from him. "Congratulations on the successful mission. Please extend my congratulations to the other paladins."

"Thank you, Kolivan." Keith nodded, trying to fake an air of nonchalance but failing miserably by fidgeting with his fingers. Old habits die hard.

Kolivan noticed immediately. "You have something to discuss with me."

Keith wasn't sure if it was a relief or not that he hadn't needed to somehow bring up the topic. "Did you read the report?"

One of Kolivan's eyebrows went up, surprised. "Of course I have."

"Did they tell you how I managed to lead a team of twenty-eight people into a war-zone?" He asked with a slight trepidation, as if he were seeking approval from a guardian.

"You've regained your vision."

Keith nodded, waiting for a comment. Kolivan was thoughtful and observing. He had always been a person of few words to those that were his subordinates and allies. Keith knew better, he had seen the infamous smile that occasionally crept up when he was around the senior Blade members – with those he grew up with. It was an accident to have seen it at all. But it gave Keith a slightly different understanding of who the man in front of him really was.

Friend, mentor, and guardian. Perhaps that's why Keith feared his judgements.

"I advise you to be careful with your newfound abilities, Keith," Kolivan said.

Keith blinked in surprise. "Pardon?"

"There's a reason why the Empire wants these people."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you ever happen to figure out why these Taroussenes have been taken from their home? What the Empire needs these people for despite the plentiful labour sources they have across light years?"

"I never asked." Keith shook his head.

Kolivan's expression hardened with a power Keith only wished to be able to exude one day. "Quintessence harvesting." He said with a small amount of disgust. "They use these people as a tracker for energy, given how quintessence sensitive they are across the entire population. It made them useful to find energy-rich planets and Balmeras for the Empire's next colony.

"They are made to do it against their will. And it isn't much different from the druids' work."

Keith's eyes widened on reflex. "They can recreate the Komar?"

"I assume they can, but I've only seen them as an energy source for the Komar, not so much the ones calling upon it." Kolivan said. "But heed my warning Keith. This power will corrupt if you misuse it. Every time the Taroussenes are made to find a new planet for the Empire, they contribute to destroying those worlds. And supplying the Komar has consequences. I suppose the relative term would be that it pollutes their own quintessence. It consumes their rational conscience. Their quintessence changes in nature, warping slowly, darkening until one can only wonder if there is anything left inside their body, or if what remains is only the shell of a person."

Keith stared at him, silent and shocked. He looked down to his hands that were connected to the console, as if staring at them long enough will show the taint on his hands, a confession of all the acts he had committed.

"This only happens when they do it unwillingly, right? Did they die?"

He was answered with a head shake. "They forget their names. They forget who they were, their families, the entirety of their existence and their abilities. I suppose it's mercy that they don't remember what they've done."

"But what happens to them?" Keith asked. "The Empire doesn't keep useless prisoners around."

"We never found out."

A silence stretched between them as Keith absorbed Kolivan's words. The more he learnt about Zarkhon's reign, the more he found himself repulsed. It wasn't as if Earth hadn't had their fair share of fascist dictators over the course of its history, but Earth definitely didn't have one that was more than ten thousand years old and held dictatorship across galaxies. And Earth didn't have one during Keith's time on it that he knew about.

Fear trickled slowly into his mind, like an icy cold stream against his burning thoughts. "So… don't let myself get captured. Got it."

"Yes. And don't abuse your powers. The Blades were born to stop the Empire from expanding. But our very first purpose, the one that spurred our founders thousands of years ago to create the Blades, was to stop the plague that is Haggar and her druids."

Don't make us come after you, Keith understood. He nodded. "What made them such a priority?"

"The same reason they still are. They have no regard for any kind of life – only the pursuit of power. And unlike the Taroussenes, they use their power willingly to destroy worlds, manipulate life, twisting something beautiful into something ugly and diseased. It's why they're so dangerous."

"But what if you use those powers for good?" He tries, and something fearful flashed across Kolivan's expression. His eyes widened slightly before schooling his face again.

"There's a thin line between righteousness and greed. Take care not to cross the other side. There is no middle ground in this. I would expect you to know the consequences of your actions and consider them carefully before you act, Keith. I hope I taught you as much."

Before Keith could reply, a beeping noise from Kolivan's side interrupted, and Kolivan faced away from the screen, as if hearing a report from a third party. Then he turned back to the screen. "I have to go. Remember, you are a Blade and Paladin of Voltron, first and foremost, Keith. You always have been. Do not let your powers let you forget that."

With the final ominous words, Kolivan's figure flashed off the screen, leaving behind the static white noise of the background machines. Keith sat motionless, replaying the words in the forefront of his mind.

There's a thin line between righteousness and greed.

A thin line. How thin, Keith wondered. How far did one have to take to finally lose their sanity? How much of what Keith did to that guard could be justifiable within the situation at the time?

Did saving someone made his acts somehow righteous despite how afraid Olea was at what he had done? Has it reduced him to nothing but the level of morality possessed by the druids? This power he feels surging through him, disappearing around his fingertips, overflowing from his core. He can feel it now, crackling like lightning in the air around him.

"Keith-."

What would the others think if they knew of this? Olea had been horrified.

"-eth. Ke-"

...

Allura was another level altogether given her vendetta against Galra. Is he now even more despicable with both Galra blood and druid-

"Keith, hey. Please, say something. Keith… hey." A voice suddenly filled his ears, and Keith turned his face upwards to find Shiro's worry stricken face in front of him. "Keith," Shiro seemed to breath a sigh of relief as Keith's vision zeroed on him.

"Shiro," Keith choked slightly over those words. Had he overheard the conversation? Did he know? Had he witnessed how pathetic Keith was as he almost broke down yet again over the what-ifs and uncertainties in his life. Keith has had enough of those moments to probably last him a while. He straightened himself and pulled away from slightly to hide himself, but he only pushed Shiro further into his space.

"Are you alright?" Shiro asked, his hands suddenly reaching to hold Keith's cheeks in his palm, fussing like a worried mother. "Why are you still sitting here so close to the console? Are you hurt?"

It took some struggle to remove Shiro's hands from his face, and Keith shook his head, "I'm fine, Shiro. And I had a call with Kolivan. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

Shiro's face was serious and bordering on grim, as if Keith had committed some sort of high treason. "Keith, I was calling your name for minutes before you responded to me."

"What?"

"And the console's broken. The screen cracked and it's completely offline, and I don't know how that happened but...," Shiro sighed, and Keith felt his weights dropping in his guts. Now that Shiro had mentioned it, he could pickup the distinct smoky smell of Altean tech haywiring and going out. But Keith could have sworn it was fine right after his conversation with Kolivan.

"As long as you're alright. That's all that matters."

"Sorry," Keith turned his head away. "I don't… I just… had a lot on my mind today. And I must have fallen asleep with my eyes open or something. Did you need me for anything?"

Shiro didn't look the least bit convinced. He got up from his crouch and offered his hands. "Let's go do something to clear our minds." He waited for Keith to take his hands.

It was a reasonable idea. Perhaps a little bit of exercise will at least distract him from the age-old philosophical question on morality. Or perhaps Hunk might have some magical remedy for that. Keith took Shiro's hands and let himself be pulled from his chair to be led away. Somehow despite the steady hands on his shoulders, Keith still couldn't find himself comforted.

There's a trance that he slips into when he fights. Keith let himself drown in it, let the current take him away and mute his surroundings into nothing but merely ambient noise as his senses focused on everything but the moment. And in that moment, he was faced with the Galra soldier - the same one with his slitted yellow eyes full of malice, and fangs peaking in his sadistic grin - raising his hand ready for a strike.

All thoughts escaped him but the ones needed to get him out alive. Keith barely breathed as he reached outwards to sense the energy pulsating in his surroundings, searching for that specific quintessence signature that was from the guards and held on tight. Then he twisted .

He heard the soldier scream. And for a moment he felt a sudden relief and a questionable pleasure in hearing him cry out. They deserved it , he assured himself as he held tighter to the quintessence and tested the ways it would go.

"Stop!" He heard them call out but he held on.

"Please-" They said again, and Keith could only watch as the soldier thrashed and fought against the urge for him to fall to the ground. The battlefield wasn't a place for games, poor choices, and mercy. The enemy was in front of him, and he had an obligation to fulfill as a Blade and a paladin. He needed to do this for the sake of the universe - for Shiro , because Shiro shouldn't be sullying his hands with the likes of these soldiers.

"-eith, I yield!" The cry was erratic, and perhaps that made Keith despondent to his surroundings, and he was suddenly flipped onto his back with hands tight on his shoulders, shaking him like a ragdoll. The soldier's right hand was starting to glow menacingly whilst he gritted his teeth as if trying to hold it back.

"Keith," the pained croak reached his ears this time. There was something awfully soft about the way that his name was said, and Keith's eyes widened. How did they know his name?

" Keith, please snap out of it. I don't want to hurt you."

There it was again - that painfully familiar voice that held such agony and tenderness that reminded him of the early morning sun dancing on his cheek as the chilly wind crossed by. It made him want to reach out to comfort, like Shiro would have always done for him. It sounded like Shiro...

He sounded like Shiro .

...

It felt as if time had stood still and his heart has ceased to exist as he let his senses roam. And the Galra soldier that was pining him to the ground-

No. No no nonono…

He let go of the twisted quintessence.

Something was wrong - Keith could hardly comprehend how this has happened but something was very wrong. He hoped it to be a dream as he reached his hands up to feel the tears streaking on Shiro's face, still twisted in the residual pain left behind from Keith's tampering. BUt he could feel Shiro's breath blowing harshly on his face, and he could feel the hard floor of the training deck cold against his back. How ironic it was that he wished to be dreaming instead of awake now that he had his vision back.

"What happened?"

Shiro looked at him incredulously. "You don't remember?"

He could only answer with a look of confusion and distress before Shiro squeezed his eyes shut from pain or from some other emotion welling within him that Keith couldn't recognise.

"We were sparring, and then you went into this… trance." Shiro explained, still trying to catch his breath. "You did something to me and it…" he bit his lip and took a shuddering breath. "It triggered my arm and made me want to-"

Keith waited patiently as Shiro struggled with his words, head turning to the side as he tried to dispel his fears. "It made me want to kill you," he whispered before finally turning himself over and laid back against the floor next to Keith, groaning in pain.

Keith could hardly recall anything after that.

A/N (2019): The initial notes i left for this chapter was "I'm tired" and wow that is a whole big mood.

A/N( (2023): Well what do you know it's like 4 years later and im still tired.