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Lance threw his head back and groaned, and for once no one rolled their eyes at him. They’d just left the last of eleven council members’ houses and it had taken them an entire day-- they were all exhausted and even Lance was a bit sick of talking to people. Pidge looked like she’d rather go and hide in her room for ten hours, and Shiro was concerned Keith would actually bite the next person to ask for a handshake.
But they couldn’t go home yet. Now that they’d convinced the entire council, they had to return to the palace to actually get permission from the King to set up their defense for the imminent Galra attack.
“Why do we have to jump through so many hoops to protect these people?” Lance griped, slumping into Hunk’s side, who rubbed his back encouragingly.
“Yeah, you’d think they’d be begging us for help, not the other way around,” Pidge said with a pout.
Shiro rolled his shoulders to reduce the tension tightening along his spine. “We’re defenders of the universe, guys. We protect everybody. Even if they’re… being difficult.”
From the back of the group he heard Keith mutter something that was probably rude, but he didn’t hear it completely and decided to let it slide. They were almost back to the King’s palace, anyway.
The building was huge, made of massive blocks of something that was similar in appearance to granite, and every single one of them let out a groan of defeat at the sight of the dozens of stairs they would have to climb to reach the entrance. But Shiro steeled himself.
“Come on. Almost done.”
They were halfway up the massive staircase, Lance complaining up a storm and Pidge hitching a ride on Hunk’s back, when the back of Shiro’s neck prickled. He paused and glanced around, but there wasn’t anything immediately out of the ordinary. The buildings surrounding the palace looked the same as before, all built of that matching white stone, and the populace hurried by on the streets without a concern in the world.
So what was this feeling? It could be his paranoia acting up, but…
Shiro shook himself and continued up the stairs. It was probably nothing. His PTSD always got worse when he was tired. He just had to get through this and--
He detected the high-pitched whistle of a projectile a half second before something punched into his neck.
He staggered, his hand instinctively coming up to inspect the impact site. His fingertips brushed over the edge of a dart before his knees folded. Through blurry eyes he tried to take inventory of the others: the dosage must have been high, because Pidge and Keith were already out cold on the steps and Lance’s eyes were fluttering.
Shiro tried to make his mouth work, tried to call out to Hunk to hail Allura before they all passed out, but before he could his vision went spotty and distracted him. He tipped forward onto his hands, the white stairs swimming underneath him.
Fight it, fight it, come on, you can’t…
His cheek met stone and everything went black.
God, he hated tranquilizers. They always made him feel like someone had cut him open and replaced his muscles with stones. That, and he always woke up about five minutes before he could actually open his eyes, so he was stuck in the dark for a while waiting for his body to start responding to him again.
When he finally did manage to open his eyes, it was not to the purple metal of a Galra ship like he’d been expecting, but instead more of that cursed white stone.
Ugh, what now?
“Shiro? You up?” Hunk’s face hovered over him, unspeakably concerned, so he had to pull himself together.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m up.” Slowly, groaning at the soreness in his body, he sat up. The cell was basic, just white stone on all four walls and a barred trap door in the ceiling ten feet above them. If they’d been wearing their armor it might not have been a problem, but alas, he’d relented and let them wear their normal clothes today, which he was definitely regretting. Thankfully they were all together, Lance just stirring from where he’d been dropped with Keith and Pidge beside him.
“I really wish this would stop happening to us.”
Shiro laughed wryly at Hunk’s words. “I don’t think it’s likely for that to happen. The universe seems to have a vendetta.”
“Fuck the universe,” mumbled Lance. Shiro had to agree.
For the next few minutes there wasn’t much they could do besides wait for the others to wake up. It didn’t take long for Lance to be fully aware and back to complaining about how absolutely ridiculous it was for them to be in this situation again (which Shiro couldn’t fault him for), and Pidge began to twitch soon after. But even after Pidge woke up Keith remained dead still on the floor, only the subtle rise and fall of his chest indicating he was even alive.
“Pidge, do you have anything on you to run scans with?”
In answer Pidge produced one of those small orange tablets she’d been fiddling with lately and began to scan the walls of their prison. Satisfied, Shiro activated the comm in his ear, but all he heard on the other end was buzzing static.
“Does anyone else have reception on their comms?”
Hunk and Pidge shook their heads, while Lance muttered, “Stupid, crummy, ancient Altean technology,” which Shiro took as a no. Damnit.
He glanced back at Keith, still out cold, and frowned. Hunk noticed him looking and mimicked his expression.
“He should be awake by now, right?”
Shiro swallowed back his fear and made his way over to where Keith was, awkwardly sprawled out on his face. As gently as he could he flipped the younger boy onto his back, arranging his limbs more comfortably, before tucking his fingers against his throat and feeling for a pulse.
It was there, but it was fast. Too fast for someone who was asleep. And was it just him, or was his face slightly paler than normal?
Hunk came up behind him and knelt as well, eyeing Keith with obvious concern. “Is he ok?”
Shiro shook his head, feeling his brow creasing with confusion. “I don’t think so. He should’ve been awake by now, and his heart’s beating too fast.”
Hunk reached out and tested for himself, only for his expression to slip even further into worry.
“What do you think is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know,” said Shiro with a gulp, “Maybe whatever was in the tranquilizer doesn’t play well with Galra.”
“Well, fuck,” Lance chimed in sarcastically, “That’s just what we needed right now.”
Shiro shot him a vexed look over his shoulder. This was not the time for Lance’s snarky comments, something might be seriously wrong with--
Keith’s muscles tensed under his hands, and he snapped back around just as Keith began to seize. For a moment he froze in shock, until Keith’s head jerked back into the stone with a harsh thud and a swear was pulled from Shiro’s lips.
“Shiro?” Yelped Hunk, hands hovering like he didn’t know what to do with himself and terror in his eyes. “What do we do?”
“Count,” Shiro snapped, perhaps too harshly, as he moved around to gently cradle Keith’s head so that he wouldn’t hit it again. “Keep track of how long it lasts.”
Hunk obediently began to count, lips moving as he mouthed the numbers. Shiro buried his fingers into Keith’s hair and held on through the shudders, biting his tongue to keep in more foul language when Keith’s eyelids fluttered and he saw the whites of his rolled up eyes.
The seizure lasted forty-five seconds, and by the time it ended the whole group was clustered around their Red Paladin, looking on helplessly as the muscle contractions faded and he finally stilled in Shiro’s grip.
They got about a minute to breathe before Shiro noticed Keith’s throat working.
“Move!” He barked, and Pidge and Lance scrambled back just in time for Shiro to turn Keith onto his side as he vomited.
“Fuck,” whispered Pidge, pale and shaking. “Fuck.” Lance was silent, both hands clasped over his mouth. Hunk was crying.
Shiro clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt in his temples, gently running a hand up and down Keith’s back, feeling the shivers and hating them.
“Pidge, do you think you can get a signal to Allura with that thing?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I can try.” She bent over her little tablet and Shiro rolled Keith flat again, leveraging his shoulders up to rest on his lap. He wiped the vomit away from his chin with his sleeve-- he knew it was practically useless but he had to do something.
There was a spark of hope when he saw Keith’s eyes slit open, but it died again almost immediately. His gaze was glassy and unfocused, looking right through them, and after a moment of blank staring they closed again. Shiro bit his lip and tried to resist putting his fist through the floor. Instead he focused on dragging his fingers through Keith’s sweat-dampened hair and trying to keep his own breathing even.
“Wait, guys, do you hear that?” Shiro looked up wearily at Lance, who had his head cocked slightly as he listened. “Footsteps.”
Sure enough, when Shiro closed his eyes he could hear them too, the light footfalls of two or three people as they approached the little trap door above them. He weighed the possible pros and cons of trying to call for help, but the people made the decision for him when they stopped at the edge of the bars and peered down at them.
“Hey!” He shouted at the pale, three-eyed aliens, “We need help! Our friend is sick!”
Both aliens blinked before one of them, dressed in a blue robe, decided to answer.
“You expect aid from your jailors?”
Frustration crinkled up his spine and over his scalp. “Look, I don’t know what we did wrong, but he’s going to die if you don’t do something!”
It really wasn’t an exaggeration. If this was a reaction from Keith’s Galra side, there’s no telling how bad it could get. The fact that he’d already had a seizure was chilling enough.
The other alien (this one wearing yellow) waved a careless, two-fingered hand. “The Galra care not whether they receive you alive or dead.” His voice bounced and echoed down into the cell.
Shiro lowered his head and spat another swear at the floor. Of course; the Galra invasion was nigh, and these people had struck a deal with them.
Apparently appeased that their bargaining chips hadn’t escaped, the aliens walked away.
“I can’t get a signal through,” Pidge growled a few tense minutes later, flicking the screen of her tablet. “I don’t know if it’s all the stone causing the interference or if they have a jammer, but I can’t get through to Allura.”
Fuck. Keith wasn’t doing well-- over the last few minutes his temperature had risen until he was panting and tossing his head restlessly on Shiro’s lap, and his muscles had begun to seize a few more times but had receded at the last moment, and Shiro wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last before another full blown seizure grabbed ahold of him.
“This would be a great time for Red to come tearing through the place,” said Lance, loudly, as though the Lion would hear him if he just raised his voice. “Hey, Red! Your son’s in danger! Come and get him!”
Red predictably didn’t respond to Lance’s call, but it did give Shiro an idea. Closing his eyes, he tentatively reached out for his own Lion.
At first nothing happened. Then, ever so slightly, he began to feel Black stirring in the back of his mind, reaching back to brush against him in gentle query. The feeling of her still made him shiver-- she felt boundless, endless, like entire supernovas were being forced into his bloodstream-- but he focused on the feeling of Keith’s body heat to keep himself grounded.
Black, I need you.
Confusion. Shiro ground his teeth. The Lions didn’t communicate in words, they used feelings, images, things Shiro always tried to keep away from for fear of revealing what a mess he really was on the inside. But he couldn’t afford to be ashamed today. Keith couldn’t afford it.
So, even though it kick-started panic in his chest, he imagined Keith growing cold and still in his arms. Pictured it in nauseating clarity, imagined the howling pain that would grow in him as he watched his brother fade away without being able to do anything about it, let himself feel the incomprehensible fear without pushing it away.
After a few heart-stopping moments, Black responded with a roar and a rush of stardust, and Shiro’s eyes flew open with a gasp.
“Shiro?” It was Hunk, a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ok? You’re not sick too are you?”
Shiro shook his head, warm tears of relief pricking at his eyes. He could feel Black as she got closer.
“It’s ok. Black’s coming.”
A second later the whole prison trembled and shook, dust pouring down on their heads, but Shiro wasn’t afraid.
His Lion had listened to him, and everything was going to be fine.
They wound up protecting the planet from the Galra anyway, despite the betrayal. It was a tough battle with only four Lions but they pulled it off, sending the warship running with its tail between its legs, and the next morning Keith was out of the pod with the poisonous tranquilizer scrubbed from his veins. But the Altean machine didn’t know what to do with the after effects of a seizure, so Shiro ended up carting him back to his room still unconscious and only minimally responsive.
Shiro settled him down in his bunk are carefully as he could, even dashing down to the lounge to get that one heavy blanket that Keith really loved, tucking it in all around his body when he returned. He was trying not to think about it but every so often he’d remember that awful fear he’d made himself feel and his hands would tremble, and when he was finished tucking him in he couldn’t bear to make himself leave.
So he stretched out on the bed beside him and reassured himself with the sound of Keith’s breaths.
Eventually Keith began to stir. He groaned and turned his head, eyes opening; Shiro breathed a sigh of relief when they were mostly clear and actually looking at him this time.
“Sh’ro?” He wheezed, wriggling a bit in his blanket cocoon. “What…”
“Hey,” Shiro murmured, fighting to hide the tears rising. Fuck that had been so close. “How are you feeling?”
Keith groaned again. “Head hur’s. Like a bitch.”
“Yeah, that’s to be expected.” Shiro gently reached out to stroke his hair. “You had a hell of a time.”
He frowned and blinked, pressing his face into his shoulder to rub his eyes without his hands. “Wha’ happened? I… can’t remember…”
“The aliens we were protecting betrayed us. We got tranqed with something your body really didn’t like. You were… pretty sick.”
Keith’s eyes darted over Shiro’s face, reading his expression to fill in the blanks. He bit his lip.
“But we’re ok right? Everybody’s ok?”
“Yeah, bud, everyone’s alright. You’re the only one who got hurt.”
His eyelids fluttered and he yawned, but Keith swallowed it back stubbornly, wanting to stay awake for some reason. It made a smile quirk at Shiro’s lips.
“How’d we get out?” He asked, shifting his head over to lay against Shiro’s collarbone. He kept stroking his hair.
“I called for Black.”
“And she came?”
“She did.”
Keith tilted his head back to look at him and his grin was blinding.
“See? I told you you’re a good Black Paladin.”
He fell back asleep before Shiro could think of anything to say to that, so he just held Keith against him and let himself cry out his relief.