Disclaimer – I don't own Voltron: Legendary Defender. This was written for Wattpad Scifi's November challenge called Alone, where the goal was to write a one-shot which involves being alone, with a max of 1000 words that's also Sci-Fi.

Alone

From the sky, a soft snow fell, coating the landscape with an icy cold substance. The ruins of the spacecraft marred the surface, as the pilot sat inside the makeshift shelter formed by spreading a tarp between the ship. The sharp edges of the Galra ship seemed to match the icy landscape, sadly.

Keith warmed his hands over the fire, his mouth pushing together as he stared at the flickering flames.

He was alone.

He was alone and didn't know where he was.

In the back of his mind, Keith laughed, telling himself this is exactly what he wanted. Looking up at the roof of his makeshift structure, he wondered what Shiro and the other paladins of Voltron were doing. "Probably doing better without me."

A dull ache pounded in his throat and chest, the thought of the others not caring what happened to him hitting hard. Reaching up one gloved hand, he rubbed his eyes. "Come on, Keith. Shiro would seriously chew you out for thinking this way."

Letting a sigh escape his lips, Keith turned his head to look at the marks he scratched onto the side of the ship with his blade. He'd been out here a couple of weeks, all alone. Every single day, he marked another mark, scaring the black surface of the ship he'd taken for his mission, a mission nobody probably realized he took.

Swallowing, he opened up the eternal clock, hoping the battery would last long enough, but long enough for what, he didn't know. His lips pushed together, letting out a sigh, before taking his blade from Marmora and scratching out another day. Seventeen to be exact.

His stomach grumbled, and he reached into his pocket for the meat he'd dried out. The creature looked like a creature from Earth, but there was no way he was on Earth. Particularly when Earth was the last place he wanted to be, the place he faced the most rejection in his life.

Placing the dried out meat between his teeth, Keith ripped it, chewing slowly, recounting his time out in the desert when he lived and survived on his own.

This wasn't a much different situation.

Yet it was.

Before he hadn't cared about being alone, particularly when the one person who never gave up on him in life was supposedly dead. Now, though, Keith found himself in a cacophony of emotions, having for once grown attached to someone other than just Shiro. A dull ache in his psyche pounded forth, and his eyes closed, pushing it aside.

Keith let out a sigh, slipping into the wreck, and wrapped himself in a blanket, preparing himself to sleep for awhile. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but remember how he ended up here. It was his fault, of course, insisting on going out to do some recon work despite the fact both Shiro and Kolivan decided to ground him, in their own ways.

Not that he could blame him, having tried to pull a heroic sacrifice. Truth was, it seemed like he was running, running, in the same manner, he ran from the Garrison, refusing to conform to the regulations of that stifling environment. And yet, perhaps following the rules wasn't his issue, but more of the fear of rejection

He missed them, honestly missed them.

The purple lines of his suit from the Blades of Marmora lit the place up with a purple shade of light. The color proved comforting, somewhat. The feeling of being alone, which was once consoling, simply didn't sit well in his mind. In fact, he found himself scared. Specifically, he woke up with nightmares regarding his near death, a death which was alone.

"I'm so stupid."

A few tears escaped from the corners of his eyes, making him wish he wasn't so emotional, but that he could control his emotions like Shiro said he should be. Sliding down, Keith let out a deep breath, wishing the others were there, to chase the fears away. To be a good leader, he needed to control those emotions, but that was exactly why – despite what Shiro and the others claimed – he wasn't a good leader.

He dozed off for a few minutes, before jarring awake at the sound of a thumping sound from above. Panic filled Keith's chest, wondering if one of the Galra managed to find him. Taking a deep breath, he tensed up, pulling out his blade. His eyes blinked before he began to move out of the place, ready to attack if needed, hoping instead to find a friend.

Instead, he dropped the blade into the snow, holding his hands up.

Keith grimaced, seeing the guns pointed at him. He tried smiling in a manner so unlike him, his dark-blue eyes recognizing the uniform of those who served at the Garrison. His fear grew, the anxiety of not being rescued by the others growing at the site of the grey uniforms. The uniforms made him feel uncomfortable, unsure of what would happen. It didn't help that he couldn't see their faces, as they were covered with masks. "Um…"

"You." The person who spoke was small, but the voice was familiar. Keith's throat tightened, a tension building in his spine. The person pulled away their mask, revealing the familiar face.

"Ryo." Keith swallowed. "Ryo Shirogane."

"Welcome home, soldier." The other voice was familiar and made Keith freeze. It was the voice of Iverson, the commanding officer who kicked him from the Garrison.

Was he though home, here on Earth where he never felt like he was home, or was he now even more alone than before?

He honestly didn't know.