Chapter Text
Hunk exhaled heavily, lowering his blaster and taking the rare still moment to collect himself. Even when the halls were empty of droids and soldiers, a Galran ship still wasn’t quiet. Hunk strained to hear over the whir of the ship, the shouts and yells on other floors, his own pounding heart. After a beat, he accepted that it was safe to move forward.
Hunk really hated being alone in Galra prison ships. But, Shiro had trusted him to go clear out the prisoners, saying something about him having the most calming presence. Hunk was proud of that, but to be honest, he preferred staying in his lion. Partly because his bayard wasn’t particularly well suited to high-pace solo combat, but mostly because of the compound anxiety he got from himself, and Yellow getting antsy when he wasn’t with her. He had thought his mind could cycle through terrible possibilities at an insanely fast rate before, try having a giant mechanical sentient immortal beast in his head calculating the possibilities of failure at hyper speed.
Hunk shivered, he could feel Yellow shudder too. He took a deep breath again, in for four counts, hold for seven, out for eight. Rinse and repeat. It was just the cold, he told himself, there was nothing extra creepy going on, it was just that Galra ships were also always cold. He wondered to himself if it was because Galra fur and armour kept them so well insulated, but then how did the furless Galra cope? Were they cold-blooded like lizards? Did they have little ultra-violet heat lamps scattered around the ship where they could lie down and heat up? Maybe their suits had little lamps within them to keep them warm - maybe that was why everything glowed purple? Maybe there was supposed to be a temperature regulator in his own suit that he hadn’t discovered yet? How hard would it be to integrate that into the suits if they didn’t have one? Were Alteans better at regulating body temperature in extreme circumstances? Was the original Yellow Paladin Altean, or something else? Did the other suits have thermoregulation features? He’d have to ask Pidge because really it shouldn’t be that hard to work something out, if he could just…
“Hunk!” Lance yelled through the coms. “You alright bro?”
Hunk startled out of musings. From the tension in Lance’s voice, Hunk guessed it wasn’t the first time he’d asked. “Woah, yes, hello, Hunk copying loud and clear!” He steadied himself against the wall, trying to remember what he was supposed to be looking for. Right, prisoners, Galra ship, rescue mission. “I’m fine but something’s off about this, there are no prisoners at all. Every cell is just, empty. It’s freezing down here too.”
“The Galra really need someone to teach them about ethical treatment of prisoners,” said Lance. “Well, if it’s all empty then the Blade must’ve been wrong and this was a bust.” There was the sound of gunfire and a yelp from Lance. “Talk soon bud, Keith missed some dudes and I have to clean up.”
Hunk heard a sound of protest from Keith before both Com links were shut off and he was left with his own thoughts again. Not the most pleasant company, but better than the Galra. Each cell was a carbon copy of the one beside it, perfect square, metal bed, one strip of purple light, crippling, suffocating, emptiness. He passed vacant cell after vacant cell, spiralling lower into the belly of the ship. More than once he wanted to turn back and get out of dodge, but the mission always came first.
He was deep in the belly of the ship, about to declare the prison empty, when one cell broke the pattern. One cell where there seemed to be, something in the back corner where the light didn’t quite reach.
Hunk peered into the darkness, there was definitely something huddled there. Although they were hunched up, he could just make out their broad shape, slight tremors running through them like aftershocks.
“I’m not Galra,” Hunk stated. His skin crawled, there was bad juju surrounding this cell and he wanted them to be out of there yesterday. “I’m here to get you out of here.”
“You’re a Paladin,” they said, their voice was deep and gravelly, but Hunk was glad to hear they could communicate. They’d rescued a planet of insect-like aliens awhile back and their language consisted of a series of bizarre clicks and buzzes that left everyone but Coran completely lost. There was something about his accent though that threw Hunk.
“Yes.” Hunk nodded, even though he had no idea if they were looking at him or not, or if they’d recognize what a nod meant. “And we should really get you out of here because the guards upstairs are not happy.”
“Is Shiro with you?” They asked.
“You know Shiro?” It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Hunk, Shiro was as much a legend as Voltron at this point.
“I fought against him in the ring,” they whispered. Their voice was so full of acid bitterness that Hunk half expected the bars of the cell to corrode.
Hunk tried not to flinch back – and failed. He braced himself and started inspecting the lock mechanism, most of them were pretty basic and with a little nudge here and there he could have the guy free in no time. This one however, this one he was either going to need Pidge or some Galra DNA to get through because this one was unbreakable.
“They don’t want you going anywhere,” Hunk muttered, “guess that’s why they put you in the ring with Shiro.”
“Leave.” Their voice was softer now, they curled tighter on themselves.
Oh Hunk twigged, that accent was Galran. His mind started to whir: high security prisoner, Galran, forced into the gladiator pits… “Are you with the Blade?”
The prisoner scoffed. “The Blade wouldn’t take someone like me.”
“But you know who they are so you’ve got to know something about them…”
“You’re nosy.”
“So I’ve been told,” Hunk shrugged. He looked over the lock one more time, if he just had the rest of his tools maybe he’d be able to get in, but he was carrying light and a screwdriver and an Altean style Swiss Army Knife wasn’t going to hack it.
“Yo guys,” Hunk opened the Coms link to the sound of cheering, at least his team were having a success. “If you’re all wrapped up, I’m gonna need a hand getting this guy out of here.”
“Great timing Hunk!” Lance whooped. “We’re all done up top. Keith pulled out an epic move, power slid across the floor cutting hamstrings left right and centre, you should’ve seen it!”
“What kind of cell’s he in?” Pidge asked, ever the practical one. “I’ve got my laptop in Green, I can run back and get it and come down to meet you.”
“Should just open with Keith’s magic touch.”
“I’m on my way,” Keith panted. Classic Keith, exhausted, breathless but pushing on.
“The Red Paladin will be here soon, he can open the cell.” Hunk told the prisoner, hoping it would be of some comfort.
“Stop. Talking.” The prisoner snarled through gritted teeth. “Tell him it’s pointless, tell him you made a mistake, tell him whatever you like just don’t let him come near me.”
“What are you talking about? I know he’s Galra but, I mean so are…don’t you want to get out of here?”
They stood abruptly, a threadbare blanket falling from their shoulders and Hunk realized with a start that they were human. And then he realized they were Shiro.
Hunk stared. It was impossible, Shiro was somewhere outside in the Black Lion protecting the Castle and making sure Galra reinforcements didn’t make it aboard. But this man was Shiro too, Hunk took in the white fringe, the scar across the bridge of his nose, the prosthetic arm…but the more Hunk looked, there was something off. Little things, like the way he held himself, curving in as though making himself smaller would make Hunk look away, the refusal to make eye-contact, plus his voice and accent, equals Not-Shiro.
Not-Shiro looked up and opened his eyes, Hunk stared. There set in Shiro’s face, flat yellow eyes glowing in the dark prison cell.
The Not-Shiro looked him over and sneered, rolling his shoulders back now and striding towards the bars. He examined Hunk’s face, and Hunk had the sneaking suspicion that he could read everything Hunk was with that look. Hunk took a step back, trying to disengage from whatever this was. Not-Shiro’s lip curled more. “Do you get it now?”
Hunk’s mind clamoured – he didn’t get it at all. This was Shiro but, Galra? What had they done to create him, and how had they done it? This was impossible, this was a sick dream or a Druid illusion, this couldn’t be real.
“Guys,” Hunk’s voice wavered. “On second thought, you really need to come and look at this.”
“What have you found?” Shiro asked.
Hunk wondered if telling Shiro he’d found a super scary clone of him in the basement was a good idea or not, and if it not, what else was he supposed to say? “I think it’s best if you all come see for yourselves.”
“I’m a bit busy out here Hunk,” Shiro’s voice broke off. There was a breath of silence before he spoke again. “Do you think you can handle it?”
“I just need the other guys here.” Hunk’s voice broke slightly and he hoped no one noticed.
“Well we’re pretty much with you,” Lance said. “I hope it’s a hot alien prisoner. I haven’t saved a damsel in distress in too long. The ladies are deprived of my heroism.”
“The only damsel in distress around here is you,” said Pidge.
Hunk heard Lance’s scandalized gasp first in the hallway then a repeat of it through his Coms. His shoulders slumped and he breathed a sigh of relief. His team emerged from around the corner, a bit battered and bruised but all standing and composed of smiles and friendly banter. Alive.
If Hunk had been watching Not-Shiro, instead of staring at the hallway for his team, he would’ve seen him don a new mask. Not-Shiro set his shoulders back, brought himself up straighter, tugged his prisoner’s uniform down and stood to attention. Most importantly though, he let loose the beast that prowled beneath his skin. The one that possessed a casual killing grace. The one that had people fleeing across the gladiator ring with just one look.
If Hunk had been watching, he would’ve seen a guilt-ridden prisoner disappear, and an assassin hardened by a life of fighting in the gladiator pits emerge. But Hunk wasn’t. When he turned to make sure Not-Shiro wasn’t a trick of an exhausted mind, he started to wonder if the guilty prisoner was ever there at all.
“So, what’s the…” Keith started, trailing off as he caught sight of Not-Shiro. His eyes slowly rose, taking him in from the tip of his toes to those bright yellow eyes. Keith’s bayard was out and he was at the bars growling in a heartbeat. “What the fuck are you?”
Lance yelped. He darted forward as if to drag Keith back but his hand hesitated above Keith’s shoulder. He made eye contact with Not-Shiro and folded his arms over his own chest. Hunk stepped closer to him, tempted to pull his bro into a comforting side-hug, but now wasn’t the time for a display of ‘weakness’.
“I’m Shiro,” Not-Shiro grinned. He licked his top lip slowly and winked. “Don’t you recognize me babe?”
Keith snarled. Not-Shiro grinned wider, face nearly splitting as he showed all his pointed, Galran, teeth. He laughed once, a loud and bitter thing, draping his arms out the bars of his cell and leaning forward until his breath shifted Keith’s hair.
“What’s wrong darling?” He purred.
Keith’s sword twitched. Not-Shiro lifted his hands and shimmied them, still not taking them back into the safety of the prison cell. Hunk supposed there wasn’t much that even Keith’s sword could do to that metal arm. If it was like Shiro’s, it was indestructible. The human one however…he didn’t want to watch.
“You wouldn’t hurt your poor unarmed lover, would you darling?” Not-Shiro teased.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Darling…”
Keith slammed his fist into the wall beside Not-Shiro’s cell. “No games. Who are you?”
“I told you, I’m Shiro,” Not-Shiro pursed his lips. “Well, Shiro with a few improvements.”
“I wouldn’t call anything about you an improvement.” Keith was a hair’s breath away from Not-Shiro now. His fist still clasped, but shaking, against the wall.
“Enhanced senses, heightened speed and strength, memories of Galran history, knowledge of multiple forms of combat, claws to kill with, teeth to tear you apart. I’d call those improvements, wouldn’t you? I’m a weapon, your precious Shiro is an emotionally distraught liability.” Not-Shiro cocked an eyebrow at Keith, daring him to respond.
Pidge cut in before Keith could reach through the bars and cut Not-Shiro’s head off. “How did they make you?”
Kuro didn’t look away from Keith as he answered. “Well, when a mummy druid and a daddy druid love each other very much.”
“You don’t know.” Pidge scoffed. “Well that’s useless.”
“I know that there was Shiro’s quintessence, and that of a great Galran warrior. I know that I was an experiment that was supposed to change the fate of the Galran Empire. I know that the energy of an entire planet was used to give me this body and to forge my soul. But how exactly was I made small one? I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Did the druids give you a name?” Lance asked. Not-Shiro startled and Lance had the sneaking suspicion that no one had ever asked him for a name before.
Not-Shiro appraised him. He pulled his hands back from the bars and folded them over his chest in mockery of Lance’s pose. “Kuro.”
“Fitting,” said Keith.
“Oh, put a sock in it Keith,” Lance snapped. “Just because he’s got your boyfriend’s face doesn’t mean you get to treat him like crap. You’d think it’d make you nicer to him. He’s still a Galra prisoner.”
“Or he’s a Galra spy.” Keith retorted.
“We could just ask him?” Pidge suggested. “Why are you down here?”
“What does any of this matter!?” Keith threw up his arms and stormed down the hall a few paces, turning and coming back before he went out of earshot.
Kuro ran his tongue over his teeth, it caught on his elongated canine and there was a flash of crimson on white bone. “The druids wanted a golden boy, not a golden eyed one. They used more power than they had to build me, and I failed them.”
Before anyone could answer, the ground lurched beneath their feet and they were flung unceremoniously to the floor. Hunk groaned, heaving himself up and pulling Pidge up with him. They steadied themselves against one another, waiting for another hit. When none came, Keith propelled himself to his feet, pressing the COM button on his helmet and demanding answers from Shiro.
“Shiro says to wrap this up, that was the last cruiser outside but Allura wants to make a jump before reinforcements arrive.” Keith’s bayard disappeared into his suit. “Time to get out of here.”
“So, we’re just going to leave him here?” Lance pulled himself up with the bars on the cell opposite Kuro.
“You want to take him with us?” Keith started to walk away. “He’s clearly Galra. We know nothing about him except he’s their puppet.”
“OK so, let’s get the facts,” said Pidge, “there’s a Shiro clone, with Galra DNA, being kept in a low security Galran prison that we were informed was only for rebel forces. The rest of the prison is empty, yet the Galran forces fought like mad to keep us away from here. Kuro apparently failed the Galra Empire, which could make him a rebel?” They bit down on their knuckle and stared at the ground, the gears in their mind turning furiously.
When Keith realized no one was following him out he sighed. He turned back to his team and scowled. “He can’t be a rebel. He’s got to be working for the Galra,” said Keith. “It’s clearly a trap.”
“A trap they’ve kept in a cell.” Lance countered. “They caged him like an animal, he’s clearly been here for months and you think he’s working for them? They left him down here to die Keith.”
“You don’t know that for sure. This is a trap,” said Keith. No-nonsense tone, jaw tilted up, completely immune to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong about this.
“Oh yeah Keith, because everything with Galra DNA in it is working for Zarkon.” Lance paced across the hall from Kuro’s cell as though he was the one behind bars.
Keith sucked in a breath. “Low-blow Lance.”
“Suck it.” Lance whipped his arm out and pointed to the control panel. “You’re the only one who can open that so it’s your call, but if I’m still your ‘right hand man’ or whatever, I say you’re making a dumb decision leaving a prisoner of war behind on a rescue mission just because he’s wearing Shiro’s face.”
“Lance is right,” said Hunk. “We can’t just leave this guy here, he’s dying.”
“If it’s a trap, we can take care of it.” Pidge nodded. “It’d be worse to leave a powerful weapon in the Galra’s hands.”
“Now who’s splitting up the team.” Keith muttered. He tossed his arms in the air - Lance was the only one who noticed Kuro wince back into the wall. “I’ll open the damn cell and when he tries to kill us all, I’ll say I told you so.”
“And won’t that taste sweet.” Lance muttered.
Keith couldn’t be trusted alone with Kuro for two seconds without the risk of one of them ejecting the other into the cold vacuum of space. Ditto for Pidge. Except, she was looking like the second she got Kuro alone she was going to cut him open to see what made him tick. Hunk was a good choice, he wouldn’t let Kuro give him any shit but he wouldn’t give him any in return, except for the fact that Kuro absolutely refused to go in Yellow. Said something about getting a weird vibe from the lion. So, Lance got stuck on prisoner transfer duty.
Not that he could complain. It wasn’t a particularly hard task. Kuro was about as active as Hunk’s great aunt Maureen. He just sat in the corner folded in on himself, head rested on his knees as he glared out around the interior of the Blue Lion.
Lance continually tried to make conversation, but he didn’t get anything more than a few grunts in response. The guy didn’t want to talk about anything. Lance tried to chat about Earth, the prison, how long Kuro had been alive, how many people Kuro had killed, what the Gladiator Pits were like. Admittedly those last two topics weren’t his best. He was floundering. The dude was definitely chattier when Keith was around, that was for sure. Although, he did perk up when the Castle came into view.
“It’s so white,” Kuro whispered.
Lance wasn’t sure when Kuro had moved. He now stood by Lance’s seat, Galra hand resting atop his human one on the back of Lance’s chair just inches from his face. The violet light of the shackles danced in Lance’s peripherals but he didn’t want to spook him away by complaining. There was something about the guy Lance wanted to protect, like he was one of the stray kittens who hung around his Uncle’s place, angry and volatile because they knew nothing but the worst of life.
“Coran makes us clean it daily, it’s why I’ve got such mad guns,” Lance joked.
Kuro sniggered but was otherwise quiet. Lance still called that a victory.
The other Paladins were waiting for them in Blue’s hangar when they landed. Lance felt a strange anxiety from Blue and realized with a start that she was relaying Kuro’s feelings to him. He wondered if Kuro knew that a sentient space ship was a nosy gossip who couldn’t keep herself from digging around in his head and transmitting his thoughts like it was broadcast radio. Blue growled and Lance rolled his eyes. If she didn’t want him mocking her, then she should behave better.
“Look,” Lance started, he waited until he was sure he had Kuro’s attention before continuing. “I don’t know what they did to you, I don’t know if you’re here for some shady evil shit or what, but word to the wise, if you want a chance at freedom, cooperate with Allura. She made an oath to protect victims of the Galra and she takes her promises seriously.”
“What does it matter?” Kuro sneered. “The Red one will still kill me the first time I let my guard down. I recognize that rage. Nothing will satisfy him but blood.”
“Keith can be a dick, but he’s not an irrational animal. He just has a lot of walls up, and it takes a long time for anyone to get past them.” Lance chuckled. “Hell, I’m still worried that stab-happy emo is going to shank me in my sleep for forgetting one little bonding moment.”
Kuro didn’t respond. Then he gave a soft laugh. “You are very bad at consoling people.”
“Yeah,” Lance shrugged. “I get that a lot.”
Kuro stared down at the four Paladins, standing together in a cluttered huddle, obviously chatting with one another, absolutely no semblance of strict regimented soldiers. Lance smiled.
“We’re a weird group of people dude, who didn’t sign up to be soldiers at all, but if you don’t give us a reason to lock you in a cell and leave you to rot, then you’ve got a chance at a life of freedom here.”
“A bigger cell is still a prison.” Kuro whispered. “But I…I am grateful for your offer.”
Lance took a deep breath, shaking off the funk that had blanketed itself over him. “Ready to face the music?” Lance asked. He dragged himself out of his chair and shot Kuro a lazy grin. Kuro nodded.
“What am I waiting for exactly?” Shiro’s voice travelled up into Blue’s cockpit as Lance led Kuro out of the ship.
“A Galra clone of you. We found him in the prison. Can we keep him, please?” Pidge pleaded. Lance walked out just in time to see Pidge clasp her hands together and lean on their tippy toes towards Shiro with an over-exaggerated pout.
“Pithy Pidgey.” Lance stopped beside them and ruffled their hair. He darted aside when they reached out to whack him. “Get it, it’s you, short and to the point.”
“Nice one Lance,” said Hunk. The two high-fived while Pidge rolled her eyes exasperatedly. They turned their attention back to Shiro and the clone, and saw Shiro frozen like a fainting goat. A hush fell over the room that dragged on for too many heartbeats to be comfortable, but there was something passing between the two that no one dared interrupt.
“You’re real,” said Shiro. His eyebrows drew together as he stepped towards Kuro.
There was a terror and confusion in his eyes that Lance hadn’t seen since they first rescued him. He wondered, not for the first time if he was being honest, if taking Kuro with them had been a mistake. It was funny how Keith only had Shiro’s safety on his mind when he made his decisions, but somehow Lance had completely ignored how this could affect their illustrious leader.
“You’re real?” Shiro repeated, trembling. His voice was high-pitched and fragile. Keith was suddenly at his side, shoulder to shoulder, fingertips grazing his wrist, all the support he could give without make Shiro seem weak.
“Real as you are.” Kuro jutted his chin at Shiro.
Shiro shrank back. Keith moved to step in front of him but Shiro pushed out his arm to hold him back. “How?”
“If you think me and Haggar are best friends and that she tells me all her secrets then you’re dumber than we look.”
“Don’t compare yourself to him,” Keith growled. “You’re not him.”
Kuro lazily tilted his head to catch Keith’s eye properly. He looked him up and down with steady calculation. “Quiet pup. You’ve already said your piece, now, the adults are talking.”
Keith tried to pounce forward but Shiro still had his arm out blocking him. The two of them shared some kind of silent conversation, in that secret language people who have known each other for years tend to develop. At whatever conclusion they drew, Keith tossed his head away and stepped back a fraction.
Lance looked round to see what Hunk thought of all this and found that Hunk and Pidge had disappeared. Lance hoped they were going to find Allura, maybe he should be going himself, but he couldn’t look away from this oncoming train wreck. If shit hit the fan, he would do his best to be a peacekeeper.
“How did they create you?” Shiro demanded again.
“I don’t know,” snapped Kuro, “one second I didn’t exist, the next I woke up. That’s all I’ve got.”
“You have no other memories?”
“Oh no, I’ve got all sorts of memories. Good ones, bad ones, strange and confusing ones that don’t make sense. You know those kind, right?” Kuro grinned. “The kind that wake you in the night screaming?”
Shiro ignored the question. “How long have you been alive?”
“Isn’t it rude to ask a man his age? Or does that only count for ladies?” Kuro lifted his shackled hands to his face and tapped his index finger against his lips as he made exaggerated thinking noises. “Absolutely no idea. They wake me up and put me to work. Or they put me to sleep for god knows how long. I was in the ring when you were though, so how ‘bout you tell me how old I am.”
“It’s only been a year since I got out of the ring.”
“Oh, would you look at that, the adults aren’t talking, I’m just a baby.”
“World’s most murderous baby.” Keith muttered.
Kuro smirked. “Is there a prize for that? A nice shiny golden medal? I need to get a few of my own to catch up to precious Shiro’s wall of trophies he has back home.”
“How do you know about that?” Shiro asked.
“I don’t know. I guess it’s how I know about that the nice scar on our knee? Mountain biking accident when we were 12. Or when you were 12 I guess? I’m only one, and I didn’t actually get to do things like ride a bike.” As Kuro spoke his voice dripped lower and lower into a guttural growl. “I just get to remember you doing it.”
“They gave you my memories?” Shiro stared at him desperately. “They took my memories to give them to you?”
“Shared them. I had to know how to walk the Shiro walk and talk the Shiro talk or I’d be a pretty shit clone.”
“And you’re so good now?” Keith snapped. “What the fuck do you want with Shiro? What’s Haggar planning? What kind of sick shitshow is this?!”
“Keith!” Allura’s voice was steady and forceful, a command that left no room for debate. The steady click of her heels echoed in the silence of Blue’s hangar. “That is enough.”
Keith glared at Kuro, who blew him a kiss with an exaggerated wink.
“And you,” Allura pointed to Kuro. “You are in no position to be antagonising my Paladins.”
“I mean,” Lance started, “he’s only really antagonising Keith.”
“Lance, this is not the time.” Allura sighed heavily. There were times like this where Lance felt as though he saw a glimpse of the Empress that Allura was becoming superimposed over herself now - someone imposing, someone powerful, someone whose rule was absolute. It was hard to decide if he was proud or terrified.
Kuro withered under Allura’s razor sharp gaze. Lance wondered if he saw the Princess or the Empress in that moment, and if was any way for him to know that there was a difference.
“Who are you?” Allura inquired.
“The druids named me Kuro.” Any trace of Kuro’s smirk was gone, his lips were a thin straight line. Although he was still trying to push his shoulders back and puff his chest out, there was a distinct fear in his eyes that gave him away. Until now, Lance had been creeped out by the glassiness of Galran eyes, but, in that moment, Kuro’s were overwhelmingly expressive.
“Yes but, why did they create you? Who are you to the Galra?”
“I’m a back-up plan.” Kuro’s eyes flicked to Shiro and he clasped at the shackles on his wrists. “In case anything happened to their precious Champion.”
Allura quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of effort to go to, just to make a back-up plan.”
“The Champion was, is, important to them. He proves the druids power, that they can make anything weak, even a feeble human, stronger. They’d do just about anything to keep him in the ring.”
Allura’s gaze softened. “Do you know anything of the Blade of Marmora?”
“Only rumours,” said Kuro. “They’re rebel Galrans, and they’re the only people in the universe that the druids want to get a hold of more than the Champion.”
“Stop calling him that,” Keith snapped.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” When Kuro looked at Keith, any of the softness in his gaze froze to bitter iciness. “Does it hurt to be reminded that your precious Black Paladin wasn’t always a hero for the right side? Does it hurt to think that he used to slaughter other prisoners, bathe in their blood while commanders you now fight cheered him on? Does it…”
“That’s enough.” Allura rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger. “None of us need to be reminded of what Shiro had to do to survive.”
Kuro’s nostrils flared and he looked like he had something to say to that, but when Allura levelled her gaze at him, he fell silent. There was none of his earlier subservience though, now there was rage.
“You look like her you know,” Kuro whispered, “you’re just like Haggar.”
To the untrained eye, Allura remained unresponsive to his insult, but Lance caught the way she bit at the inside of her lip, the slight widening of her eyes. They were the only signs of how deep Kuro wounded her with those words.
“If all you have to offer are insults and bitterness then I will be more than happy to place you in a prison pod and extract your memories by force.” Allura threatened.
Kuro’s eyes flicked to Lance, back to the ground, to Allura, to Keith, back to the floor again, never to Shiro, and finally they settled on Allura as he spoke. “I was mostly kept in that cell or in a pod. But when they let me out, well they kept me around to…they kept me around like a pet, and they spoke freely. I don’t know everything they have planned, but I know some things that might help you.”
“And will you share them with me?”
“Will you throw me out the second I’ve outlived my usefulness?” Kuro asked.
“You will be a guest here,” Allura offered, “a guest with limited privileges, but not a prisoner.”
“See,” Kuro tilted his chin up, “the thing is I don’t believe you. And even if I did believe you, I certainly don’t believe those two lovebirds.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Keith tossed a hand in Kuro’s direction. “And if he does, we can find out from the pods.”
“I’d rather I didn’t have to use the Castle’s energy extracting information from a willing informant,” said Allura. “So, what do you have to tell me Kuro?”
Kuro jerked his head away from Allura and looked at Lance as he spoke. “What do you know about the Olkari?”
Dinner that night was a tense affair.
Kuro didn’t show up. He holed himself up in his room after Allura's interrogation and refused to join them. Hunk took him food though, and he came back with a smile on his face. Keith didn’t know why that bothered him so much.
Lance and Pidge did their best to fill the silence, chatting loudly about different cloning theories, even Shiro dutifully threw in his own suggestions. Thankfully dinner was a short affair too, Shiro and Keith had snuck away once Coran came in and told them they were all completely long and gave a long lecture on the most likely cloning probabilities. Now they lay together in Shiro’s room in a tangled mess of limbs on their bed.
“He doesn’t have to stay here.” Keith stated. He tugged Shiro down and pressed their foreheads together, catching his gaze and holding it. “I don’t care what any of them say, if you want him gone I will personally escort him back to that prison.”
“It’s OK Keith,” Shiro whispered, pressing kisses to Keith’s nose and cheeks. “Allura calls the shots, if she says we need him to help save the Olkari, to ensure that the alliance gala goes well, then we need him to help save the Olkari. What comes after that, who knows?”
Keith searched his eyes for any sign of dishonesty. He was surprised when he found none. He found a distance that clenched at his heart, and he didn't know how to bring Shiro back from whatever memory in his head he'd gone into. He rolled them over and collapsed onto Shiro’s chest. “When I look at him, I get so angry. I see everything they did to you, everything they put you through.”
“I understand. But it’s not that simple, he’s been through it all too.” Shiro wrapped his arms round Keith and sighed. “It’ll work itself out, for now, what matters is that we both came back alive.”
Keith settled in as Shiro draped his blankets over them, feeling the steady beat of Shiro’s heart beneath cheek. “I love you so much Kashi.”