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#at best i’ll probably be recycling parts of it to fit better into the universe okay
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“Jesus – fuck!” Keith yanks down on the yoke with all his might, making their little pod rear back, missing the gigantic asteroid by mere inches. He watches with wide eyes as the asteroid continues rocketing by, acutely aware that he nearly smashed the pod in everyone in it.
There’s a tense, speechless silence in the pod for a moment, everyone aware of how close they were to becoming Actual Space Debris, before Romelle speaks up.
Because of course it was Romelle.
“Maybe focus on keeping us not dead and daydream about gay reunions later,” she says drily, and Keith bites back a scathing response, because he realises he has absolutely no leg to stand on, there.
“My bad,” he says instead. Romelle rolls her eyes fondly before decking him lightly on the shoulder.
Well, it would be lightly, were she not an Altean. But she is, and Keith has to tense every muscle in his body to keep from crying out in agony like a loser.
“Wait, no, not your bad,” Krolia says.
Romelle blinks at her. “Okay, I get he’s your son and all, but it very much was his bad.”
“No, I got a signal for a second!”
Keith whips around, staring at his mother with wide eyes. “You got signal? Seriously?”
“Yes! I think it was the magnetic flare from the asteroid! Get close to it again, I might be able to hold the signal long enough to broadcast!”
Keith does not waste a moment. He turns the pod around at lightning speed, pushing it as fast as it will go to catch up to the asteroid, carefully avoiding its surrounding debris, which is a lot harder than it looks, and causes a significant amount of turbulence. Which, of course, sets Kosmo off, howling at the windows and scratching at anything he can reach, on top of the deafening grinding sound of surrounding space rocks smashing into each other at high speeds, and the crackling of the comms they are desperately trying to make work.
“Anything?” Keith yells over the chaotic noise of Every Sound At Once.
“Yes! The signal is getting stronger! Once I can get it to connect, it should maintain itself, so keep close just a little longer!”
Keith grits his teeth, wrapping both hands around the yoke and ignoring the voice in his head – that sounds suspiciously like Lance – that makes a dirty joke about the position. He just focuses as hard as he can, trying to keep as close to the asteroid as he can without smashing the ship into it or getting smashed by all the debris travelling at several hundred miles an hour.
“Closer!” Krolia shouts.
Keith resists the urge to tell her that he’s closer to the asteroid right now than he’s ever been to any parental figure in his life, because that would be uncalled for and also rude and he is a Mature Adult, now.
He nudges them the slightest smidge closer, praying to the universe at large that the thrusters don’t give out, and finally Krolia shouts in success.
“I got it! I got Voltron! Pull back!”
With great relief, Keith does, putting as much distance between them and immediate mortal peril as he can. Once the asteroid is far enough away that Keith no longer feels his heart attempting to pound clean through his chest, he slumps over the controls, repeatedly reminding himself that this is, at the very least, better than the goddamn motherfucking bitch-ass space rift.
(Which is, honestly, a very low bar. Contracting E. coli from getting a swirly would be better than the space rift. But still. Small victories, et cetera, et cetera.)
“Um, hi?” comes a voice Keith hasn’t heard in two fucking years, and he almost cries in relief.
Well, not almost. There are tears streaming down his face. But he feels he’s pretty justified, so it’s whatever.
“Pidge!” he calls, ditching the pilot’s seat and fully running over to where Krolia sits, radio holoscreen up and working.
His old teammate gapes at him. “Keith?!”
Keith grins, soft and happy. “Hey, man. I missed you.”
She stares at him in silence, for several minutes. Keith lets her gather herself, even though the silence is getting real awkward real fast.
“Why do you look jacked as hell?” is what Pidge decides on, and God, it’s been so long since he’s heard a dumbass remark that’s definitely a poorly disguised roast, somehow. It feels like home.
“Because I am jacked as hell. I spent two years in Actual Hell –”
Romelle glares at him. “Quit talking shit about my actual place of residence –”
“Your place of residence imprisoned me for two fucking years I will talk all the shit I want –”
“I can beat you up, Kogane, try me –”
“I can handle a beating and still run my mouth, M’lyoy, so I will try you –”
“Children!” Krolia barks, and they both snap their mouths shut so hard there’s an audible click. “We have desperate, time-sensitive information. You have been bickering for three straight days. Can it, or so help me, I will turn this ship around.
“Goddamn, Kogane,” Pidge says after a moment, “someone just got told off. What, did you fuck off and find your mother or something?”
Keith blinks. “Yeah. How’d you know that?”
“How did I know that – I was joking, dude, fuck! Is that actually your mother?”
“I am,” Krolia says. “You must be Pidge. The short one who cusses often.”
Keith freezes. “Ma,” he hisses, “why would you tell her I said that?”
“Three straight days,” she deadpans, completely uncaring.
Pidge glares at him. “I’ll admit I missed you, you bitch, but please know that you are so, so fucking lucky you are not within bayard distance.”
“Noted,” Keith says weakly.
“I can smack him for you, if you like,” Romelle offers, not even attempting to hide a smirk.
“Thank you, strange Altean, whose existence baffles me beyond comprehension,” Pidge says.
Romelle attempts to do as promised, but Keith jerks out of the way at the last second, and then scrambles over to Krolia’s other side to avoid any further assault.
“Coward,” she and Pidge say at the same time.
Man, having little sisters is annoying. Almost as annoying as having an older brother. Keith wishes he was back to being an only child.
(Not really.)
“Can we please get back on task,” Keith says, which is hilarious coming from him, but whatever.
“Right,” Pidge says, face turning serious. “What the hell is going on?”
“First of all, where’s everyone else?”
“Doing other shit,” Pidge says, “I’m on monitoring duty. Coran and Hunk are reworking the control panel for the accelerators, Shiro’s meditating, Allura and Lotor are on their Oriande mission, and Lance is – actually, I have no idea what Lance is doing, but he’s on the castle somewhere. Probably.”
At the mention of Lotor, everyone’s face goes ashen, playful atmosphere completely dissipating.
“Fuck,” Keith says.
Pidge, ever the problem-solver, looks resigned. “It’s Lotor, isn’t it,” she says, and it’s not really a question.
“Yes,” Romelle agrees softly. “He’s a monster. He’s using my people as batteries, to drain our quintessence, to rule worse than his father ever did.”
“And we’ve just led him by the hand to the one place that will make him unstoppable,” Pidge summarizes, looking absolutely miserable.
“Unfortunately.”
“I don’t suppose you have a plan?”
“We don’t…not have a plan,” Keith says. “We’ll have the element of surprise, so long as we get back to the castle before he does, and that’s got to count for something. We’ll send you our coords, and we’ll try to meet as quickly as possible? It might be easier to plan with the whole team present.”
“Sounds good,” Pidge says, immediately pulling up a few dozen screens and schematics. Krolia quickly types something on her keypad, and Keith watches as it pings over to Pidge. “Oh, hey, we’re actually not that far away. Maybe a couple hours, if we gun it towards you? And Allura – God, I hope she’s okay – won’t be back until the end of the day, so that timing works out. I’ll tell Coran we need to get moving and fast.”
“Thank you, Pidge,” Krolia says.
“No problem, Ms. Keith’s Hot Mom.”
Keith sighs. Romelle giggles. Krolia looks amused.
“I forgot how annoying you are,” he mutters. He doesn’t need to look to know Pidge is sticking her tongue out at him, but looks anyway, just to prove himself right.
“Well, I look forward to reminding you, booger-brain.”
Keith opens his mouth with the full intention of calling her a roach-face, but then remembers that he is a Mature Adult, and decides he will instead graffitti it on her workspace as soon as he gets back, like a real man.
“Bye, Pidge,” he says, and reaches forward to swipe through the holoscreen.
“Hey, wait! Don’t hang up yet!”
Keith pauses, looking at her expectantly. “Yeah?”
The playful, teasing expression that came back for a moment when they were arguing has melted from her face, and she looks serious again. Nervous, even. “Um, something… happened, while you were gone,” she starts, and Keith immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion.
“What happened to Lance? Is he okay? Is he hurt?” he asks in a panic.
“He is not dead and also not injured or maimed or anything,” Pidge says, which is very different to ‘why, of course not, Keith, Lance is safe and happy and healthy’.
“Spit it out, Pidge,” he orders in his Patented Black Paladin Voice.
“I can’t really explain it. I’m just gonna – I’m gonna send you a link, and you’re going to watch the whole thing and not tell Lance I sent it to you, okay?”
Keith swallows roughly. “Just tell me what happened, Pidge.”
“Okay, Keith?” she repeats, and Keith knows he’s not going to get anything else out of her.
“Okay. Fine. Send it to me.”
“It’s sent,” she says, just as a notification pops up on the receiver. “Um, you can hang up now. That’s all I had to say.”
Keith doesn’t even say goodbye. The only thing he can focus on is that receiver. In the background, he can vaguely hear Romelle and Krolia ending the call, but all his attention is on the little notification – a link, like Pidge said. He picks the receiver up carefully, and walks carefully over to his bunk in the back.
“I guess I’m driving!” Romelle says cheerily, trying to goad him into a playful argument (her… interesting piloting skills having been the subject of their bickering on numerous occasions) but Keith barely even hears her. He clicks on the link, space youtube quickly taking up the screen.
In hindsight, Keith wishes he’d waited to watch, waited for Krolia and Romelle to fall asleep, or even dug around for a pair of headphones, or something. Anything instead of playing what feels like a private message – even though this is clearly something that was broadcasted to the universe at large – to the pod at large.
Hindsight is 20/20.
Instead, he watches with wide, horrified eyes as he witnesses the direct result his leaving had on his best friend.
I'm sorry but I gotta go
That’s what he said to me, as he let me go, he left me alone
Keith recognises those words. He fucking – those are his words. The thing is – the thing is, that contrary to what he knows everyone else thinks, Keith didn’t leave for the Blades after a few days of private introspection.
He talked to Lance – to his right hand – about the issue for months. They made the decision together. Lance knew every feeling, every need running through Keith’s brain, and consequently, Keith knew every thoughtrunning through Lance’s.
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