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Keith struggled to smile as he shook hands with yet another one of the strange, pale aliens he had been sent to negotiate with. He had been here for hours, relaying the information that Allura had given him and setting the terms of their new alliance - and, boy, these guys did not make it easy. For every term Keith set, they had two new ones to counter it.
Their species was particularly paranoid, Keith found. They had agreed to an alliance with Voltron easily enough, but only if the negotiations took place on their own turf, and only with one singular Paladin present. They had seemed to be under the impression that if any more than that were to set foot on their planet it would be inviting danger, as if the whole universe wasn't already in an all out war. Keith hadn't even been allowed to travel in the Red Lion, for fear it would have been too recognisable on the off chance a Galra cruiser had decided to fly by during the ten minutes it took for him to travel from the Castle to the planet's surface.
Keith grit his teeth as he smiled and nodded and shook hands and spouted countless pleasantries he didn't mean. He wondered again why he was here. Why Allura had decided to send him, out of all five Paladins, to something so political.
Finally, the meeting was adjourned, and everyone began to file towards the exit. Keith tried to slow his pace so that his urgent desire to leave was less plain, but he still made it out the door ahead of everyone else. He stepped to the side to allow everyone else to pass him, and took a deep breath. The room that they had been in had been far too small for such a large congregation - almost the whole village had been present, even the children. Keith didn't understand why it couldn't have been held here, in the spacious entrance hall they had moved to, where everyone could actually move around without bumping into anyone else. Keith sighed and pulled out his communicator.
"Guys," he said into it, not bothering to disguise his exhaustion. Allura responded almost immediately.
"Keith. How did it go?"
"Fine, for the most part. They made a few changes, but I don't think they were anything too major. I'll tell you everything when I get back."
"Alright, then," Keith scowled at the irritation in the princess' voice. If you had wanted it to go so perfectly, then why didn't you just go yourself?
"I'll be back soon," was all he said in a clipped voice. He started cutting through the crowds, towards the door.
"I don't see why Mullet was sent to do this," Lance's voice rang through the communicator, and Keith rolled his eyes. "I mean, he isn't exactly the 'peaceful negotiations' type." Keith narrowly avoided tripping over a pair of alien toddlers that ran in front of him, and opened his mouth around a snarky retort. Then he stopped himself. Lance actually had a point on this one. Allura really should have gone herself. Or Shiro. Or Lance. Or literally anyone else.
"I sent Keith for exactly that reason, Lance," Allura explained, with an air of having repeated herself countless times. "He's one of the best fighters I've ever seen, but to be a Paladin of Voltron you need to have at least some basic political capabilities."
"Yeah, yeah," Lance grumbled, as Keith struggled to wrap his mind around the sudden backhanded compliment from Allura.
"We'll let you handle the next one, Lance," came Shiro's voice. Keith was almost at the door, and quickened his steps. "Keith, when do you think you'll-"
The room exploded.
When Keith woke, it was to dust in his mouth and a ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away dust and grit, and could just barely make out his surroundings in what little light was streaming down from a crack in the ceiling. He lay for a long moment, trying to remember what had happened, how he'd gotten here. Wherever 'here' was. There was rock on all sides of him. A cave? No, this rock was too clean, too chiselled and smooth to be the walls of a cave. So where-
The peace treaty, he suddenly remembered. There was an explosion. An attack.
Keith tried to sit. Nothing happened.
He started to turn his head dazedly, and stopped almost immediately as pain spiked through his skull at the movement. Breathing harshly through his nose and swallowing back bile, Keith brought his hands up to feel for an injury - or tried to. Only his left hand rose when he told it to, his whole right arm remaining unresponsive. No. Not unresponsive. He could feel it, he could feel the pain and the pressure, he could feel his muscles move and strain themselves as he tried again to lift his arm. He braced himself, and lifted his aching head to look -
"Oh, fuck..."
He was lying underneath a slab of rock, trapped at such an angle that he could just barely move the left side of his body, but his entire right side was pinned. He gave his trapped arm an experimental tug, and hissed when the slab shifted slightly and pain shot through his torso. He couldn't see the lower half of his body, couldn't assess the damage or the severity of his situation, but as full awareness gradually came back to him, pain accompanied it. He lowered his head back to the ground, and closed his eyes.
He could feel his legs, and could just barely move them. He assumed the slab was resting in a way that only his his right arm and upper torso were being crushed, and spent a while trying to figure out exactly how grateful he should actually feel about that.
Okay. Okay, he thought to himself, trying to steady his breathing. Panicking won't help. This isn't so bad. The others will get me out. They'll know that something happened. They'll be looking for me. They'll get me out.
Keith thought back to the explosion, trying to remember exactly what had happened. He had been listening to the others, he remembered. Shiro had been talking. He had been asking Keith something. What had he been asking -
Not important, Keith shook his head slightly, regretting the action instantly. He breathed through the nauseating pain before trying again.
He'd been walking towards the door. He'd wanted to leave, had been desperate to leave. The explosion had come from in front of him; he remembered being thrown backwards by the force of it. But then - he also remembered the same feeling from behind him just a few seconds later, and then the sound of a third explosion from the side -
We were bombed, he realised, and almost laughed.
Of course. Of course, during the one and only solo diplomatic mission that Keith had ever been sent on, something like this would happen. Of course.
I should have been more alert, he reprimanded himself. There's always a chance of something like this happening. I should've assessed my surroundings, been more aware. Then no one would have- he squeezed his eyes shut against their sudden burning as he thought about the people. The children, the families. What is wrong with me?
He felt himself starting to shake, and tried to remember the breathing exercises Shiro had painstakingly talked him through so many times before. He took a deep breath in, and choked on the thick clouds of dust swirling around him. With every painful convulsion the pressure on his torso became more and more apparent, and he felt the tears sliding down his grimy temples. He swallowed back a sob, and forced himself to calm down.
He turned his head, ignoring the ache that came with the action, trying to find something, anything, that could help him out of this situation. This stupid fucking situation. This was meant to be a peace summit.
Keith's breath caught in his throat as he finally managed to turn his head fully, and met the wide eyes of the person lying just a few meters from him.
"H-hey. Hey, are you-" he stopped short, and stared. And stared, and stared.
Dead.
They're already dead. Christ, it's a child. I'm trapped down here with a dead child.
He was hyperventilating now. No amount of breathing exercises could possibly help him with this.
"Oh, god. Oh, god."
He was still staring. Staring at those wide, wide eyes. Filled with fear, with terror. With terror that he, a Paladin of Voltron, could surely have prevented. If he had just -
Keith swallowed back bile again, and forced himself to turn away. He couldn't bring himself to check the rest of the space around him. Knowing there was one body trapped down here with him was already bad enough, he really didn't want to know if there was anyone else. He was breathing too fast, and the pain in his head was almost unbearable now. He raked his free hand through his hair, and winced when he found the long gash running along his temple and ending just above his left ear. His shaking hand came away bloody.
Keith coughed. And coughed again. And couldn't stop coughing, despite the sharp pain that had erupted in his right side. My ribs, he guessed, feeling the panic swell and swell until he thought it might burst out of him. He couldn't breathe, and the pain was everywhere now, it was blinding, and there was a dead child next to him, a child dead because of him, and he couldn't breathe-
When Keith woke, the sharp pain in his side had receded to a heavy ache. When he opened his eyes, he could feel the dried blood around his left eyelid crack and flake away. The space he was trapped in was warm - warmer than it had been when he had passed out. He remembered the landscape that he had landed his small Altean transport on, what felt like days ago: wide stretches of sand, hardly any vegetation in sight. A landscape that had taken him right back to that damn shack in the desert he had lived in for an entire year. Keith wondered how much time must have passed for the sun to have warmed the space this much. Hours, he supposed.
He blinked sweat out of his eyes, and wearily raised his shaking hand to mop his sticky forehead, carefully avoiding his wound. The heat was going to be a problem, he knew. Already, thirst was clawing at his throat, only worsened by the dust and sand he had inadvertently inhaled. Furthermore, the fucking body lying next to him wasn't getting any fresher, and he knew that, sooner or later, it was going to start smelling. He took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Hey!" He called, his rough voice echoed slightly. "Hey, can anyone hear me? Hello? Anybody?"
No answer. Keith supposed he hadn't really been expecting one.
He had been holding his communicator when the explosions had taken place, of that he was absolutely certain. Maybe he had dropped it somewhere nearby. If he could find it, he could contact the Castle, or send the others his location. He braced himself before looking around.
Taking care to avoid looking at the child, he searched the small space that he was trapped in. His eyes skimmed over debris and what he really hoped wasn't an arm - nothing. No communicator, no other survivors, nothing that could even begin to help him get out from under the heavy slab pinning him. He bit his lip against the frustration and panic and fear rising within him.
All he could do now was wait.
He didn't even notice the light fading until he opened his eyes to almost complete darkness around him. He took a steadying breath, and had to swallow back bile at the sickening stench that assaulted his nostrils. The body. He groaned, and tried to prepare himself for what was going to be a long night.
It didn't take long for the desert heat to be replaced with the desert cold.
Keith had been sent to the peace treaty in clothes as formal as Allura could bully him into wearing, which consisted merely of a dress shirt and some nice trousers. As he lay shivering, Keith sincerely wished he had relented when she had tried to force that stupid suit jacket on him as well, rather than refusing and all but fleeing to the transport as he had done instead. He squeezed his numb fingers under his right armpit, wincing as the movement jostled his trapped limb.
He remembered the freezing nights spent in his shack, bundled under all the blankets he owned, gloved hands wrapped around a tin cup of hot tea -
Don't, he told himself insistently. Remembering that will only make this situation seem worse. Pull yourself together.
He closed his eyes, and aimed for something resembling sleep, breathing through his mouth as much as possible. He tried not to wonder how long he'd been here, why the others were taking so long to find him, but ideas came to him anyway -
Maybe they'd given him up for dead.
Maybe whoever bombed the peace treaty had somehow gotten the Castle, too.
Maybe the Galra had attacked. That thought sent a spike of terror through him. Without the Red Lion, without Voltron, would the other Paladins be able to handle a cruiser? What about a whole fleet?
Or maybe they just didn't think that Keith was worth the time or the trouble -
No. They wouldn't abandon civilians. They're here, somewhere. They'll find me. They will.
"Hello," he called in a voice caught between a croak and a whisper. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "Hello? Is anyone out there? I-I'm stuck down here, I could use some help." Nothing. "Sh-Shiro - is anyone there? Guys! I'm down here! Hey-" He broke off in another harsh cough that had him convulsing off the ground as much as the slab would let him. The pain in his ribs reawakened, and he saw stars when a particularly harsh cough knocked his head off the ground. He extracted his hand from his armpit to cover his mouth so that he wouldn't inhale anymore dust and sand and dirt.
It took him longer than he would have liked before he managed to stop and take a breath. He took another, and another, and then he sobbed. There was a pain in his chest, but it was different. It was familiar. He knew a panic attack was coming, and he knew it was going to be a big one. What he didn't know was what to do. It had been so long, too long, since he'd gone through a panic attack without Shiro there to guide him through it.
Keith remembered Kerberos. Remembered a panic so strong it had been blinding. Remembered stumbling to Shiro's apartment and pounding on the door because it just couldn't be true, it couldn't be. He remembered the door opening, and the split-second of sickening relief that Shiro was alive, he was here, before Adam had gathered Keith into his arms, and they had collapsed together to the floor. They had looked at photos of Shiro, watched videos of Shiro, listened to recordings of Shiro. Keith had fallen asleep in one of Shiro's jackets, surrounded by the smell of him.
Even when Shiro had been dead, he had been there to help Keith.
He wasn't here now.
Keith was alone. Panic seized him.
Morning came, and with it returned warmth. Keith allowed himself a brief moment of relief when he became aware of the sun heating the rock around him, before dread settled in.
His panic attack that night had been one of the worst of his life, and it had exhausted him even further. He suspected his hyperventilating had resulted in a few more cracked ribs, and the heavy ache in his chest was refusing to abate. His head was pounding, both injury and dehydration taking their tolls. He needed water, desperately. He needed space to breathe. If he had another panic attack, or another coughing fit, he worried he might just end up suffocating under the heavy rock crushing him.
The stench of the body was intensifying in the heat.
He needed out.
"Hey! I'm stuck down here! Can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?" His voice was so hoarse that it was barely louder than a whisper at this point, but he continued with his efforts nonetheless. He called and called and called, and received no reply. It was only when he tried to call and no sound came out that he stopped to catch his breath.
This is it.
The thought came to him abruptly. It was an unwelcome one, but he couldn't deny the truth behind it. If the others hadn't found him by now, if no-one had found him by now, then would they ever? Keith knew he wasn't going to last much longer, not with the rising temperature, his dehydration and his blood loss. He supposed he must have used up too much energy with all that yelling, too, as his vision began to double and grey seeped in around the edges.
He supposed it wouldn't be such a bad thing, to surrender to unconsciousness, if he was going to die anyway. He closed his eyes.
Something fell on his forehead, and he opened them again. He reached up and closed his fingers around the small rock that had landed on him. Another one fell. And another. He could hear them landing all around the small space, and sand began to seep down through the cracks in the rock above him.
"Shit," he gasped, as larger pieces began to shift. "Shit, shit, shit..."
This is it. This is how I'm going to die. I'm going to die -
"Keith!" The breath rushed out of him. Had he imagined that? Or had that really been- "Keith!"
"P-Pidge!" His voice was barely audible, and he nearly sobbed in frustration. "Pidge! Pidge! I'm here! I'm-" He broke off into coughing again just as one of the larger rocks above him shifted - was carried - away. He squinted his eyes and raised his hand against the sudden burst of sunlight shining down on him. He could just barely make out a shape above him, a shape he recognised. "Pidge..."
"Oh my god, Keith," she turned to look somewhere behind her. "Guys! I found him! Shiro, he's here! He's here!" Keith could just barely make out an answering shout somewhere in the distance, but all he could really focus on now was the fact that Pidge was here. She was here, she was climbing down to him. They had found him-
Pidge's foot landed on the rock pinning him, and he couldn't hold back the hoarse cry as his torso was squeezed painfully.
"Shit," Pidge scrambled for a hold as she quickly removed her foot. "Sorry, Keith, I'm sorry." She jumped down and landed beside him. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she spotted the child. "Christ..."
"Pidge," Keith reached out and brushed his fingers along her armoured ankle. She jolted, then quickly knelt down next to him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly.
"Keith," she said it with such relief that he felt tears burning his eyes again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry we took so long to find you. It - your communicator had a tracker on it, in case anything like this happened - but it must've been crushed or the signal must have been blocked or something because we couldn't find it. And Red - the Lions couldn't land anywhere in case they ended up crushing any survivors, so Red has just been flying in circles - we thought maybe she'd be able to find you, so when she kept flying in circles over this particular area, we just assumed-"
"Keith!" Pidge's head snapped around to the hole she had come down.
"Shiro, he's down here! He's trapped - we need to find a way to get this slab off of him-" Shiro barely seemed to be hearing her, as he, too, scrambled down the hole she had created and joined them both on the ground. He plucked Keith's hand right out of Pidge's and held it tightly in his.
"Shiro," Keith whispered, looking at the older man with tired, tired eyes. Shiro smiled at him shakily.
"Hey," he whispered back. "Sorry we took so long. We're going to get you out of here, okay. Just hang on a little bit longer." He turned to Pidge without releasing Keith's hand. "Pidge, the Green Lion is the smallest. Use her to carry the rocks away-"
"It's too unstable, Shiro. One wrong move could bring this whole thing down on both of you-"
"You can do it, Pidge. You have to." They looked at each other for a long moment, then Pidge looked down at Keith. He met her eyes and nodded. She set her jaw before nodding back and scrambling back up and out the hole, leaving Keith and Shiro alone. Keith opened his mouth to say something, to thank Shiro for finding him, for searching for him at all - and a sob came out instead. Shiro rested his forehead against Keith's, and rubbed his thumb across Keith's scraped knuckles, and whispered soothingly to him as he wept with exhaustion and relief and terror.
"It's alright, Keith. I promise, it's going to be alright. Pidge will get you out." As if on cue, the sound of rocks shifting drifted down to them. Shiro squeezed Keith's hand as he flinched. "You're going to get out of here, okay? Just hang on-"
"The child," Keith croaked, breath hitching, and Shiro pulled back, blinking at him, his own cheeks damp with tears.
"What - child? What child, Keith?" Shiro and Pidge were both in their Paladin armour, helmets secure on their heads. There was no way they could have noticed the smell, the overwhelming stench - Keith turned his head and looked past Shiro's hip to where the body lay. It took Shiro a moment before he followed Keith's gaze, and when he did his grip on Keith's hand tightened painfully. Keith heard him swallow.
"God, Keith," he turned back around, and when he noticed that Keith was still staring at the child, shifted so that he was blocking his view. Keith shut his eyes, and rolled his head back around. He felt the slab pinning him shift, and jumped at the sudden pain shooting up his trapped arm - the first feeling he had had in it for hours. Days. The pain intensified as blood rushed back into the limb, and Keith felt his whole body spasm. Shiro shushed him gently, and started murmuring to him, words that Keith couldn't make out through the pounding in his ears. He squeezed Shiro's hand so tightly his arm shook with the effort, and listened to the steady cadence of Shiro's voice.
He felt lightheaded, with pain or dehydration or relief or maybe a mixture of all of them - he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that Shiro was with him, Shiro had found him, Shiro hadn't abandoned him.
Keith let this thought comfort him, and carry him into unconsciousness.
Waking from a Castle healing pod is becoming too regular an occurrence, was Keith's first thought as he woke.
His next was, Shiro.
He became aware of arms holding him upright, his legs weaker than they normally were after emerging from a pod. These arms were familiar - they had held him before, many times. They'd comforted him, supported him, saved him - but all he could think of at that moment was that he wanted them away. He wanted them off. He needed them off. He needed space.
He raised his own arms - both of them - and pushed weakly.
Shiro froze for the briefest of moments, before gently lowering Keith to the ground and releasing him, shuffling back a few inches. Keith realised he was yet to open his eyes, and did so slowly, wincing at the harsh white light of the medbay. He jumped slightly.
The Paladins, plus Allura and Coran, were standing in a tight semi-circle around him and Shiro, watching them so intensely that Keith felt colour rising to his cheeks. He cleared his horrifically dry throat before attempting to speak.
"Uh... hi?" It came out as barely a croak, and he dissolved into a coughing fit almost immediately - but there was no pain in his ribs or his head or his chest, no sense of overwhelming panic. He coughed into the crook of his arm - his right arm, he was using his right arm, it was moving, it wasn't hurting, it was still there, he was free - until Hunk fetched him a water pouch from one of the tables nearby. Keith accepted it gratefully, and almost wept as he had his first drink in days. He had drained almost half the pouch before Shiro gently but firmly pushed his hand down.
"You'll get sick," he said, with an apologetic smile at Keith's betrayed glare.
"Uh," Keith looked up at Lance's uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant voice, "how you feeling, buddy?" Keith blinked at the raw concern and relief painted across Lance's face. He looked around at the others and saw the same expression on each of their faces. "Keith?"
"U-uh, I'm fine. I'm better. Now. Thank you." None of them looked particularly convinced by this answer, and Keith himself wasn't entirely sure if it was the truth, either. He raised the water pouch back to his lips to avoid having to answer any more questions. He met Shiro's eyes, and the older man seemed to snap out of a daze as he shook himself and smiled, though it was somewhat strained.
"Well, you must be exhausted," he said, sounding so wrung out he could have been talking to himself. "And starving. Let's get you to your room so you can have a shower, then you can come to the kitchen. Hunk, you'll cook something up, won't you?"
"Yeah," Hunk said, jumping slightly at the sudden address. "Yeah, definitely! Keith, uh, what you up for? Goo? Or, uh, space-pancakes? Oh, there's that new recipe I was working on with Lance for a kind of space-quesadilla, if you want-"
"Everything you cook is great, Hunk," Keith said. Hunk's cheeks flooded with colour, and he looked ready to burst into tears at any second, so Keith hastily added on, "I'll eat anything. Make whatever you want." Hunk sniffed loudly, then nodded firmly and left the medbay at a jog. Keith jumped slightly as Shiro put a hand on his elbow to help him stand.
"We'll, uh, we'll meet you in the kitchen, I guess," Lance said, and put an arm around Pidge's shoulders to guide her out. She looked ready to protest for a moment, but out the corner of his eye Keith saw Shiro shake his head minutely, and was selfishly relieved when she relented and left with Lance. Allura and Coran gave Keith reassuring smiles before following, leaving Keith and Shiro alone.
"Well," Shiro said with strained cheer, "let's get you to your room. I'll get some clean clothes ready for you while you shower, and then we can-"
"You - you don't have to, Shiro. You can go with the others, and I can meet you in the kitchen. I'll manage." Shiro looked at him oddly, and Keith averted his eyes to the floor.
"I want to help you, Keith. If you're okay with it. If you'd rather I left, then-"
"No," Keith said rather sharply. He cleared his throat and refused to meet Shiro's eyes. "No, I - I don't mind. If you don't mind. I - I'd appreciate the company." He glanced up in time to see Shiro smile soften into something less pained, and added on a belated, "Thank you."
"Come on, then," Shiro said, and moved his hand from Keith's elbow to wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him close. Keith allowed himself to lean in, trying to subtly breathe in Shiro's scent - willing it to replace the stench of death that he knew he was never going to forget - and push back the feeling of another panic attack that was lingering in his chest.
I'm back at the Castle, he reminded himself. I'm back with the others. There's nothing to freak out about. Pull yourself together. You're fine.
Shiro stopped suddenly. Keith opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - and was taken aback to find himself already in his room. He realised he was shaking, and Shiro must have realised it, too, because he quietly and knowingly asked, "Are you okay on your own?" Keith nodded jerkily.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be out in a bit." He disengaged himself from Shiro's grasp and hurried into the bathroom. He quickly moved to shut the door, but stopped promptly before it closed completely. He held the handle tightly for a few seconds before releasing it and stepping back, leaving the door open slightly.
He couldn't bring himself to close it. The memory of being trapped - the feeling was still too fresh in his memory. He tried to shake himself free of it, and began to peel off his dusty, bloody garments, leaving them in a pile by the sink. He turned on the shower, as hot as it could go, and stepped into the small cubicle before he could talk himself out of it.
He managed to scrub the dirt off of his face and arms and legs, marveling at being able to move them again before wondering at how strange that was, when he had only lost that feeling for - how long had it been? A day? Two?
Hardly any time at all, he berated himself, so stop shaking. Stop panicking. Stop panicking. He released a shaky breath, and reached for the bottle of shampoo-ish space-soap. It slipped out of his unsteady hand and clattered to the floor, and Keith swore, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. His breath was picking up, and this was so stupid.
He was being so stupid, he needed to calm down-
"Keith?" Shiro's voice came from just outside the door. "You okay in there, buddy?"
"Uh, yeah," Keith's voice was so tremulous he knew it couldn't possibly have sounded even remotely convincing. He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat to continue, and couldn't.
"I'm coming in," Shiro declared after a few seconds of silence.
"You don't have to - I'm still in the shower, Shiro-" but Shiro had already come in, and Keith watched him slide down the wall beside the sink. He didn't look at Keith. He just sat. A silent comfort. Keith sniffed before he could stop himself, and tried again to get his breathing under control. He abandoned the shampoo where it had fallen, instead running his hands through his hair, letting his hair and the scalding water smooth out the knots and clumps.
He waited until he felt less like he was about to burst into tears before turning off the water and quietly asking Shiro to pass him a towel. He rubbed his hair a little before wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out of the cubicle. Shiro was blocking his way to the door, and didn't move when Keith stepped towards it. Keith looked at him, and Shiro looked back for a few moments before lifting an arm as a silent invitation. Keith hesitated, then sat down next to the older man, resting his dripping head on his shoulder and allowing Shiro to take one of his still shaking hands.
"You're out now, Keith," Shiro whispered. Keith nodded, cheek rubbing against the soft fabric of Shiro's t-shirt.
"I know," he whispered back. "I know I am. I don't know why I'm - I just can't-"
"There's nothing wrong with how you're feeling now, Keith. What you went through was - it was traumatising. It would have been traumatising for anyone. I'm amazed you didn't have a panic attack the second you got out of the pod." Keith made another failed attempt at swallowing past the painful lump in his throat.
"I already had one," he said, and felt Shiro's grips on his hand and shoulder tighten. "Two, actually. Back in the - in that place. They were - pretty bad."
"I'm sorry," Shiro said quietly, and Keith shook his head vehemently at the remorse in his voice.
"Don't. Why would you be sorry? You and the others got me out of there, you're the only reason I'm not rotting down there right now, like-" he stopped, icy dread pooling in his stomach as he suddenly remembered. How could he have forgotten? "Shiro. Shiro, the bo- the child. Wh-what happened to the-"
"We got them out," Shiro said quickly. He rubbed his hand up and down Keith's arm as his shaking increased. "We got them out, and we - we left them with the others. There was a tent set up, a short while away from the bombing site. People could go and - and identify bodies."
"Oh," Keith croaked, tears burning his eyes at the memory - the fear etched on the young, young face, expression forever preserved as a reminder of the horror, the terror they had felt in their final moments. And the smell. God, the smell.
Keith just barely managed to disentangle himself from under Shiro's arm before leaning over the toilet to dry-heave. He felt Shiro follow him, and rest a hand between his shoulder blades instead.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"Of course," Shiro responded, and he pulled Keith closer again. They sat in silence, holding each other as Keith shook and cried.
Dinner was as lively and chaotic as ever. As promised, Hunk had made his space-quesadillas, and he had made a lot. Shiro and Keith had entered the kitchen to see him adding to the two already massive piles on the counter, and while Shiro had hastily moved forwards to gently coax him away from the oven, Keith was accosted by Lance and Pidge. They each linked an arm through one of his and led him to the table, where Coran and Allura were already waiting. Hunk and Shiro brought the plates forward and laid them on the table.
It had taken Keith a moment to realise that they were all waiting on him to make the first move, but after he had taken the first bite, it was a free for all. Keith finished his first helping quickly, and was half-way through his second one before he reluctantly reminded himself to slow down. He knew from experience that eating too much too quickly after going so long without food was a bad idea. He doubted even the miraculous healing pods could help tackle something like that. So, he took his time finishing his second one, and only reached for a third when everyone else's combined efforts had taken sizeable chunks out of both piles. And when he was fairly confident he wasn't about to throw the other two up.
"Keith," Allura suddenly spoke up, and everyone else's conversations ceased immediately. Keith swallowed thickly, and looked at her, trying to figure out her expression as she continued. "I believe we - I owe you an apology." He blinked.
"What? What for?" Allura looked down at where she was wringing her hands on the table in front of her.
"The bombs were set off by a neighbouring village to the one I sent you to negotiate with. This other village... wasn't quite as keen on the idea of forming an alliance with Voltron, as they believed it would lead them into danger with the Galra. The thing is - I hadn't been aware that there was another village. If I had been, if I had known that there was any threat at all of this kind of thing happening - please know that I would never have sent you down there alone, if at all." Keith shook his head as he gaped at her. "I should have been far more careful and aware of the situation before I sent you down, and I'm sorry."
"Allura," Lance spoke up, sounding as floored as Keith felt, "none of this was your fault. How could you possibly think it was?"
"Lance is right, Princess," Shiro spoke up. "None of us had been made aware of this other party. If anything, I think their existence was deliberately kept from us by the ones we were negotiating with."
"But still-"
"I don't blame you, Allura," Keith said quietly. Everyone turned to look at him, and Allura lifted her eyes again to meet his. "This wasn't your fault. And besides, if anyone else had been sent down with me then they would've been caught up in it, too." Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but Keith continued over him. "I'm sorry that any of this happened, but I'm still relieved that I was the only one of us to be caught up in it. So, uh, don't worry about it, Allura. Any of you."
"Keith..." Shiro murmured, but he didn't continue. Lance put his hand on Keith's shoulder and squeezed, and Pidge slowly leaned into his side. Keith was only slightly surprised to find that he didn't want to push them away. He blinked past the stinging in his eyes, and swallowed away the lump in his throat, and tried desperately to bury the memory of the child that just wouldn't go away. He spoke again in as sincere and steady a voice as he could manage.
"Thank you."