Tag: voltron

Keith finds him on the hill before the house. The others are inside, waiting for answers, an explanation, but Keith touches Shiro’s shoulder and looks at him. They talk. Keith can’t begin to describe how much has changed, how he’s been searching while Shiro had been through unspeakable things that left his skin ashen and hair white and cost him flesh all over his body.

He still reaches for Shiro’s hand. “Let’s go inside,” Keith says, wants to pull him off that hill and somewhere safe, but Shiro flinches away from him. “What?”

“I’m not me anymore.” Shiro looks at the ground, left hand curled around his metallic wrist, knuckles clenching tight enough to lose all blood. “This hand isn’t mine. They put it there, I don’t know what it does, and if I’ll hurt people.”

Keith watches him for a long moment. Then, he says: “That’s stupid. Typical Shiro-thing to say, but still stupid.” This time he doesn’t give Shiro a chance to react. Keith snatches his hand, the cold and sharp-edged one, gripping it as hard as he can. 

“Seems like I can still grab you and pull you out of things you don’t belong in. So I guess it works for a hand, meaning it’s yours and it’s you.” 

He doesn’t wait for Shiro’s reaction. “C’mon,” Keith says, “they’re waiting.” When he turns to stumble down the hill, Shiro follows without a word, but his fingers squeeze Keith’s hand carefully. The metal is warm now. 

Voltron’s Bond.

It’s Pidge who initiates the whole thing without even wanting to.

They’re all exhausted. The team building exercises did nothing for them, they still can’t assemble Voltron again, dinner tastes like slimy slippery goo and it’s so quiet except for the sound of their spoons against the bowls that Pidge can’t bear with it anymore. “I’m done for today. Night. I’ll be in my quarters.”

Everyone looks up, but nobody does anything to keep Pidge from leaving the table. They just watch, young eyes dark and tired, as a thin frame disappears through the door, outworn and hunched over like all of them.

Hunk is the next to stand up, five minutes after. “Pidge’s right. I’m done, too. See you guys tomorrow.” Then he stomps off. The silence around the table thickens, and it’s no surprise to Allura that the rest of the food stays untouched until one after another, the boys get up and nod at her. 

It’s Keith next, quiet and with gritted teeth, fists curled by his side. It’s Lance, not even cracking a joke at her, worrying his lip between his teeth. And after he’s stacked the rest of the bowls and mumbled a quiet “thank you for the training today”, Shiro follows after them, having stayed for over an hour since Pidge vanished.

The night has fallen over the planet when Coran steps to stand by Allura’s side. She’d been watching the virtual model of the galaxy, counting planets that needed saving, but turns her head to him. “I don’t know how to get them to bond. They’re so young. They’re scared, and I can’t make their fate easier.”

Coran tilts his head and, for some reason, smiles. “You should see this.”

And she really should. Coran leads her to Pidge’s room, at the very end of the corridor, the door carelessly open. Allura prepares for a lecture about safety in one’s quarters and underestimating the enemies’s stealthiness, but Coran simply points into the room… and Allura can’t help but smile, too.

In a pile of blankets and pillows, the five paladins of Voltron are asleep. 

Pidge lies in the middle, legs stretched out long, glasses somewhere on the floor because Hunk’s big hand cradles that fragile jaw and pulls both close against another. They had been drawn here, one by the other – Keith next, legs tucked to his own chest and curled up so tightly that he’s a tiny fraction of his usual temper and red-hot wildness. His nose touches Pidge’s back, and the strong arm around his waist that belongs to Shiro seems to be what holds him together. And there’s Lance, wedged somewhere by Shiro’s hip, head on his stomach and Shiro’s fingers calm in his hair. 

Allura turns and closes the door again. She says good night to Coran, walking to her room in silence. She thinks about the paladin’s slow breaths. She thinks about Pidge’s fingers gripping Hunk’s shirt, Shiro’s fingertips reaching against Pidge’s back just below where Keith looked vulnerable. She thinks about Lance, looking in place, belonging, safe.

“Bonding, huh,” Allura whispers to the stars outside the castle. “I see.”