Chapter Text
“Feels like a waste of time.”
Shiro’s snort crackled through the comms, eliciting a smile despite the dense terrain that had the both of them panting and sweating well before an hour could pass.
Keith couldn’t see him, but he was making good progress behind him, or at least that was what it sounded like. He turned a glance over his shoulder to confirm his suspicion.
A mile or so on the swampy planet hadn’t yielded much fruit. According to history and their scanners there should have been some sort of civilization here. Granted relying on intel that old had led them astray more than once. It wasn’t a stretch to say that was the case yet again.
“I dunno,” Shiro grunted and pulled his foot free of a newfound bog. “Ten more minutes and we might find a sinkhole or something.”
“As if we’d find something so exciting.” Keith crossed his arms and took in the sprawling wet leaves and willowy trees spanning out before them. Deep blue in contrast to the yellow water. “Pretty sure there’s a tear in my suit. Feels like I got water on my sock.”
“That’s actually dangerous, hold on.” Shiro bent to inspect his legs carefully, and Keith cleared his throat, surveying the foreign terrain. Just because it appeared to be desolate was never a guarantee in his recent experience.
“Which leg?”
“Left.” he murmured idly.
He jolted as a hand smoothed over his calf.
Shiro barely noticed, thorough as he ensured there were no tears.
“Might be the boots.” he muttered to himself, and Keith couldn’t help but watch as his hand slid a few inches higher, past the knee.
“Might just be my imagination.” Keith jerked his leg away when his touch reached an inch too close to dangerous territory. Shiro blinked and looked up at him, silent as he digested that reaction.
Keith wondered how he interpreted it, whether he could read him like a book or not.
Shiro stood and planted his hands on his hips.
“Suppose we should head back. If there’s something or someone here we won’t find them by wading in the mud.”
“Yeah.”
“If Allura really wants this place checked out she should bring the castle here.” he continued, “There’s not much else we can do.”
“Guess not.”
“Come on.”
The both of them turned around, and Shiro brought up the tracker for their lions, setting them on course in the right direction. “Just retrace our steps.”
Keith hummed in acknowledgment, stepping back down into the bog and wading through the murky yellow water. It frankly looked a lot like piss, unsettling to see himself touch even indirectly through the suits.
He couldn’t wait to get back home to decontamination.
The feeling was like nausea, what crept upon him in the next silent minutes. The idle trudge back to the lions. He shivered, swallowing over the unwelcome lump in his throat, the churning of his stomach, and Shiro’s steps faltered.
“Ugh…” he shook his head, pressing a hand to his helmet.
“You okay?” Keith prodded, alert despite the way his stomach continued to dip and threatened to upchuck his lunch.
“Just feel a bit sick.”
A hollow, gut-wrenching feeling sank into his belly, forcing his heart to skip a beat, his skin to go clammy.
Or maybe that was the strange feeling.
“These suits are airtight. Can’t be the environment.”
“You just said you thought you had water in your boot.” Shiro glanced at him wryly, and he looked pale, worryingly so.
“I don’t. It’s just paranoia.”
“Hm.”
Shiro sighed, shaking his head once again as color returned to his face.
“I feel better now. I was just dizzy, I guess.”
“Drink some water when we get thorough decontamination.” Keith instructed firmly.
“Yes sir.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks, dashing the swell of nausea away in a split second, and he could only remain silent, flustered.
The trek back didn’t take long. And soon enough they were in the cockpits of their lions and leaving for the wormhole that would soon open for them. They couldn’t risk taking their helmets off until they got back, and the lions would need to be cleaned as well.
So Keith sat, silent, itchy, tugging at his collar with a sigh. They only had to wait a few more minutes.
“Figure we’ll head back?”
“Maybe not. I’ll bet someone else has had more luck on another planet. We gave it a shot, but I’ll bet the Empire got to Gyana long before we did.” Shiro made a strained noise, like he was stretching, and Keith curled his hands around the controls.
“Yeah? Didn’t really look conquered.”
“They don’t tend to stay on inhospitable planets, if the people there could have been valuable allies I’m sure they would have eliminated the possibility.”
Keith grimaced at the notion.
“Right.” he breathed, soft and shameful.
“…you know I don’t mean you.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“It’s a system, not a race, Keith.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Shiro made a noise like he didn’t believe him, and the empty void before them suddenly shuddered, giving way to a familiar blue wormhole.
Keith thrust forward with Red, effectively abandoning the conversation.
“Welcome back, Keith, Shiro. Any luck?” Allura’s voice crackled through the comms as soon as they came through the other side.
“Not much. I think we need cleaning.” Shiro announced.
“I wager you might. I recall the environment being a bit muggy. I’ll close off the bays until Coran can get the lions sanitized.”
Keith landed and made his way to the decon, stepping inside and closing his eyes as the machines did their work. At long last, cleaned and disinfected, he could shed the armor and his suit, stepping out and checking his socks just to be sure.
Dry.
He straightened with a heaving sigh of relief, and he huffed a wry laugh as he began the trek to debrief.
“Hey.”
He slowed, smiling and letting his shoulder bump with Shiro’s as he fell into stride beside him.
“Hey.”
“Feeling good?”
“Yeah. My suit was fine, by the way.”
“It better be.”
There wasn’t much to tell, and Allura was mildly disappointed, but as it was, there wasn’t time to stop by once again. They had other planets to visit if they wanted to stay ahead of the Empire.
Dinner was a quiet affair, everyone well worn and ready to sleep what little hours they could before the next threat or mission came around.
Afterward Keith nestled into bed, exhausted, groaning softly as his muscles ached and settled into rest. Or at least, something like rest. It was a fitful sleep marred with a distant pain and a low headache that had him tossing and turning all night.
When he finally woke and the lights brightened for the day cycle he winced, sitting up and rolling his shoulder. His arm ached almost like a sprain, and he curled his hand, hissing softly before he stood and pressed a palm to his forehead.
“Fuck.”
Something was wrong…
He couldn’t be sure exactly what, like his head was muddied and his body was wrung out. And he was…
His breath hitched, a soft gasp given when he realized exactly what he was feeling beneath the strange aches and pains.
“The hell…?” he sat back down, pressing his thighs tightly together and taking a deep breath. Held, bated as he tried to fight the feeling. Only to exhale in a wispy moan.
His arm throbbed and he gave it another shake, stretching the hand once more before he sat back, rubbing his legs together. The slow build of pleasure was confusing, unbidden, growing without any cause. He closed his eyes, biting his lip and twitching his hips into the sensation. Like someone was stroking his clit with a firm grasp. A phantom sensation.
He spread his legs at that, pressing a palm over his cunt and moaning, low and guttural. He came a few moments later, tossing his head back and gasping through it.
“Fuck. God…” he panted, rubbing himself as it began to taper off, far too quick for his liking. He contemplated continuing, maybe once more, twice if he was really feeling it—
The spasms in his hands made him reconsider, and he sighed, flopping back on the bed with a groan. He raised both hands upward, studying them. The right was worse, as if every nerve was lit up, sparking with…lightning, he supposed.
The left just ached in general, and he wondered back to the day they spent exploring Gyana. He didn’t remember hurting himself…
There was something off about Shiro.
Keith would be the first to notice, of course. He was used to making sure Shiro was alright, even if he didn’t want that attention. He was discreet, that was what mattered. But today?
Shiro had an ease about him, a wonder, almost. His smile gentled, frown lines smoothed, and his eyes wistful. His voice was light, something almost…joyous in his tone.
Keith couldn’t help but think it was strange. Not that Shiro’s happiness was anything but a boon. It was all he could ever ask for. But it was newfound. After so many months of his underlying depression and anxiety he was starting to worry he would never be the same.
“Hey, you okay, Keith?”
Shiro looked his way, startled, and Keith glanced frantically between him and Hunk, who was staring at him with a pinch of worry in his brow.
“Me? I’m…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” he shifted in place, rubbing his thumb into the palm of his right hand.
He wasn’t. Not really. Tired and achy and his eyes stung with the lack of decent sleep. His head throbbed still, and a surge of foreign distress was welling in his gut the longer Shiro looked at him.
“Keith?”
“I’m fine.” he asserted, “Seriously, just didn’t sleep very well.” he rubbed at his eye as he spoke, sighing with a wry smile.
Shiro didn’t seem convinced, but Hunk dropped his concern with a pat on Keith’s back that had him stumbling and huffing a laugh. And unfortunately for Keith, Shiro was just as perceptive as he was, just as confrontational when it came to him in particular.
He expected it when he found him later in the lounge. Hell, maybe he made it easier for him by secluding himself, intentionally or not he couldn’t say.
“Keith?”
He hummed in acknowledgement, hardly looking up from his blade as he polished the handle.
A hand came to rest over his, halting him as Shiro sat beside him. Keith looked at him, hesitant, and found Shiro looking out toward the stars.
“I don’t come here enough. It’s nice.” he turned a soft smile Keith’s way.
“Mm.” Keith set the knife down, rubbing a thumb into his arm with a shuddering breath. The ache was debilitating if he gave himself a moment to think about it.
“Are you really okay?”
“Yeah. I am.” Keith heaved a sigh, “Just tired, sore.”
“Yeah?”
”Guess it was that swamp, yesterday.”
“I’m fine.” Shiro pointed out, “I did the same thing.”
Keith only shrugged.
“Where is it sore?”
Keith squeezed his arm pointedly.
“I don’t know, feels like I pulled something.” he offered his hand for Shiro to inspect. “And…like it’s got a heartbeat.”
Shiro pursed his lips, something like recognition in his eyes as he studied his arm.
“Does it hurt?” he slowly stretched it outward for him, glancing at his face for a reaction.
“A bit, yeah.”
“This?”
Keith’s breath came out shaky as he worked a metal thumb into his palm. “Just a little.”
Shiro snorted, standing before he settled on Keith’s right side and took his hand again. “You know,” he began, pressing his knuckles into his aching palm, “You’ve never been one to complain. Even when you sprained your ankle back home.”
Keith rolled his eyes, “I was fine.”
“Case in point.” Shiro laughed, “What I mean to say is that it’s gotta be pretty bad if it’s actually bothering you.”
“It’s really not. You know how it is when you overwork a muscle and shit.”
“Mm.”
Keith went silent, watching as he rubbed his muscles loose. It hurt and it felt good and it was one of the most strangely erotic things he had ever seen. Granted, Shiro was often the star of his teenage fantasies, but still…
Shiro shifted in place, clearing his throat, and Keith didn’t think much of it, leaning against him with a soft, breathy moan. Eyes fluttering shut.
“Feels nice.” he whispered.
“…good.” Shiro rasped, shifting once more as his fingers gently moved toward his wrist. Brushing over the thin skin, feeling Keith’s pulse, slow with relaxation, quickening with a faint sort of arousal.
Keith opened his eyes, glancing down with a sigh.
His wrist fit in the palm of Shiro’s hand. It always had when he was younger, but it still did. Even with the years of work and muscle he had accumulated, Shiro dwarfed him and he fucking liked it. Sometimes it was hard to quiet the low embers in the back of his head that imagined those huge fingers in—
Shiro grunted and Keith raised his head, confused, blinking blearily at him.
“What is it?”
Shiro wavered, gripping his arm tighter before he placed it in Keith’s lap pointedly.
“I— uh…I just remembered I had to…fuck…” he stood and swiftly walked away, and Keith frowned as he watched the door slide shut behind him. Whatever calm and idle arousal the moment may have brought, it dissipated in a flash, and he heaved a sigh. Disappointed.
He woke up with a gasp. Something like a nightmare seeped into his head in the night, visions familiar like memories and yet not his own. They felt like the things Shiro whispered to him in late-night confessionals when he woke from nightmares of his own. Vivid and painful and visceral.
Keith rubbed over his arm. It ached like the saw that stole it away was there even now.
He blinked at the notion.
But his arm wasn’t gone. It was here, he could see it, turn it this way and that, curl his hand…
He reached tentative fingers to brush over his nose, finding it smooth and foreign.
He rushed to the mirror in his bathroom, heaving and sweating as he stared at himself, wide-eyed and shocked to be…himself.
He was always Keith. So why the fuck did being Keith suddenly feel wrong? He felt like an intruder in his own body again, like a stranger was staring back at him in the mirror. But it wasn’t…it couldn’t be. He’d lived these past nineteen years in this body, in this mind. He knew every divot and scar because it was a part of him.
He shuddered and turned the light off, watching as his eyes refracted the light long after it was gone.
He wasn’t one to have nightmares. The last time was before he figured out his heritage. And he was never one to go running for comfort, but the temptation pulled him to his door before he could quell it.
There was no shame in going to him. Shiro came crawling into his arms with glossy eyes and quivering breath all the time. He held him until he stopped trembling night after night. He never, ever found him weak for seeking his help. If anything he enjoyed providing comfort.
Why wouldn’t Shiro do the same?
Keith took a deep breath, raising his throbbing fist to knock. Each rap of his knuckles sounded so loud in the corridor, and he glanced either way in paranoia that he had woken someone.
The door opened and he startled, hugging himself and averting his eyes as soon as Shiro’s (wide and curious even amidst concern) met them.
“Keith? What’s wrong?”
Keith huffed, shaking his head before he garnered the courage to look at him.
“Nothing…I just can’t sleep.” he shrugged, “I figured…”
Shiro reached out, and he let him take his hand, let him pull him close, into his space, into his room.
“Yes, of course, Keith.”
Keith released an anxious breath, smiling wearily as he slumped against Shiro’s chest, soft and warm. He smelled like the juniberry scent of Altean soap, and underneath all of that was a smell distinctly Shiro. One Keith could pick out amongst a thousand others, one that melted the panic and the disorientation from his mind so he could fucking breathe.
He squeezed his eyes shut at the threat of tears, and Shiro stroked a hand through his hair with a hum.
“Bad dream.”
It wasn’t a question, and Keith didn’t refute it. He remained silent, sniffing softly and nuzzling into his chest, breathing him in.
Shiro moved and he followed, leading him to bed.
“C’mon.” he sat down, shifting onto the mattress and giving his arm a tug, pulling him down with him. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Keith nodded, curling into his embrace with a weary sigh.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
He was no stranger to waking up in bed with Shiro, and platonic as it may have been it always gave him a shudder when he wondered whether it could ever be more. Whether he could wake and shuffle closer, press a kiss to lax, soft lips, say “I love you” aloud for once.
He opened his eyes, wrapped up in Shiro’s arms and tucked against his chest. As if he could be closer than this.
Shiro was still quite asleep, and Keith took a moment to admire him. He wasn’t frowning nearly so often recently, and the lines that had been forming in his brow were smoothed out even more in rest. He looked his age, and Keith could only smile, tucking his face against his neck and breathing him in.
Shiro groaned, shifting and sighing, and Keith let himself go lax once more. He had no qualms with going to sleep again.
A warm hand rested on his hip, sliding downward and eliciting a jolt when he squeezed.
Keith reeled backward, clearing his throat, and Shiro was still pretty much asleep.
Most of him, anyway.
Keith gently moved his pelvis backward, biting his lip because quite frankly he was throbbing too. Sudden, as if triggered by Shiro’s morning wood.
He sighed, rolling onto his back and resting his arm on his forehead.
It would go away if he ignored it.
Except it didn’t.
He waited, the castle was still quiet for the end of the night cycle, and he was sitting in Shiro’s bed, tortured by this stupid, insistent arousal. It reminded him of the other day, waking to what felt like a fuckin’ ghost jerking him off.
Shiro rolled his hips with a shuddering breath, brushing against Keith’s thigh, and then he did it again, and Keith could have sworn every drag of his dick against his thigh pulsed in his clit. As if it were dragging against the cusp of his legs instead.
“Shiro.” he whispered, biting his lip, and Shiro hummed, rocking his hips in a slow, sleepy motion, chasing pleasure unconsciously.
“Shiro.” he said, loud, stern, and Shiro startled, lifting his head and blinking as he coughed and adjusted to wakefulness.
“Hey…what’s up?” he muttered, rubbing his eye.
“I should probably go now.” Keith said simply.
He was still hard, pressed against his leg, and Keith was keeping a pointed gaze on the ceiling. His heartbeat was throbbing in his cunt, unrelenting and strong enough to make him tremble.
“Oh.” Shiro sighed, yawning before he suddenly shifted back, exhaling a laugh and flushing when Keith finally looked at him.
“Shit! I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay. Morning wood, yeah?” Keith smiled, heat in his own cheeks as he watched him grab a pillow to hide it.
“Y—yeah.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Keith reached to pat his face.
It felt as if something caressed him in kind, and he jerked away from it in surprise, glancing at the open air, the lack of a hand in his space.
Shiro stared at him, brows furrowed when his hand left his cheek.
“What?”
Keith huffed in disbelief.
“Nothing…just…I don’t know. I should— yeah.” he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress to flee.
Shiro sat up, his gaze hot on the back of his neck as he left.
After he made it back to his room he stumbled, pressing the heel of his palm between his legs. That phantom sensation was back, harsh, rapid, and he whimpered as he went to lean heavily against his bed.
There was a sneaking suspicion in his head, even as he gasped and his body rocked into an unseen touch, knuckles gone white as he gripped the sheets. He let it happen, jaw gone lax when he came without even touching himself.
Again.
Coincidence was only coincidence when it happened once. That much he could surmise from the strange things that had been happening lately.
But even so, he didn’t necessarily have any proof.
His hand spasmed and he sat down heavily, trembling as his orgasm tapered off. He could only rub at the pained muscles in vain, sighing and dragging his fingertips upward. Up to where the pain ended.
He stared at his own arm thoughtfully, tracing a jagged ring around his bicep.
He kept a sharper eye on him.
Shiro was almost dopey that morning, and if the way he woke to yet another unbidden, throbbing orgasm was any indicator, Keith knew why.
But still, maybe it didn’t connect to Shiro at all. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, and maybe he was just seeing things.
So…
Allura gave a start when Shiro yelped and slapped a hand on his thigh, rubbing at the tight fabric as he inspected himself, searching for something he would not find.
“Ow!…fuck.”
“Are you alright, Shiro?”
“Yeah…just…thought something poked me.” Shiro shook his head, “You ever get those random, stabbing pains?”
Keith pulled the needle out of his own thigh, thumbing over the likely sore spot.
He didn’t feel it, himself, but Shiro did. Reacting exactly as one would if someone jabbed a sewing needle in their skin, and he even inspected the very area Keith had stabbed on his own body.
He took a deep breath, shaky.
There were many issues to resolve now. Like how to bring the matter up. How to fix it. That was his first instinct, and he might have done so then and there if it weren’t for one simple problem.
Now he knew intimately that Shiro was in so much pain. He knew it from the day he woke with spasms in his arm and his every nerve on fire. He always pretended to be fine and he was living like this, every day. The nightmares, the stranger he was in the mirror. That was all Shiro. His thoughts, his memories, his pain.
So did Keith really want to fix it?
No.
If he had a choice he wouldn’t change a thing.
He could handle some pain if it meant seeing Shiro smile like that. Bright, sunny like the days in the Garrison, but now it was even brighter. There was no underlying crease in his brow to betray the worries and stress he carried every day.
He put the needle away with a mental note to return it to Allura.
He would just have to keep himself out of danger as much as he was able. If he got hurt, Shiro would feel it.
He didn’t count on Shiro getting hurt.
It wasn’t serious, really. It was the same old same old they dealt with every day. Nothing a healing pod wouldn’t fix.
Still, he wobbled, breath punched out of him when the drone managed to slip past Shiro’s defenses with a sharp jab to the ribs, the crackle of the impact was loud enough that Keith could hear it across the room. Shiro didn’t even flinch, of course he didn’t, he wasn’t feeling the pain.
A busted rib, most likely, and Keith wheezed, caught off guard in his own fight as white-hot pain burst into his lungs.
He’d had worse before, he could handle it, but if he could just catch his fucking breath first before this stupid machine bore down on him that would be great.
Shiro noticed his predicament, calling his name as he came running, and every step jostled his ribs.
Keith snarled, slashing desperately at the machine and kicking its body down after he took its torso off. He offered it a final, vindictive kick, pressing a hand to his ribs and the other he held up toward Shiro.
“Fuck, stop!” he gasped, “Stop running.”
Shiro slowed, breath heaving as he reached him, cautious in removing his blade from his hand. That was the last drone, at least.
“Hey, what happened?” he wondered, tender as he pressed curious fingers against Keith’s side. That didn’t hurt, of course, he wasn’t the one with a broken rib.
“No.” Keith sighed, grabbing his hand, “It’s not me.”
Allura came over when she noticed their conversation, the way Keith was holding his side.
“Jesus, I’m fine! Shiro sit the fuck down.” he snapped, grabbing Shiro by the shoulders and guiding him to the nearest elevated surface.
“Keith—“
“It’s not me, okay?” he stressed, “Allura, his ribs are banged up. Give him a hand.”
Allura was glancing between the both of them, curious and confused.
“Allura.”
“…alright…” she moved to inspect Shiro’s side instead, fingertips alight with quintessence.
“Oh…yes, two ribs broken.” she said in bewilderment.
Shiro breathed a laugh, “What?”
Keith grunted, hissing softly as his ribs throbbed, “Stop laughing.” he warned, “And no running ‘till we get you in the pod.”
“Yes, mom.” Shiro grinned cheekily, and Keith sighed.
“Sorry.”
Allura placed a hand on his shoulder, “But, Keith…you seem to be in pain.” she searched his face, “You’re pale.”
“Yeah.” he admitted, husky and resigned.
Her hands went to his temple first, and then his ribs in kind.
“I don’t understand. There’s nothing wrong…?”
Keith shook his head, “Let’s just get what we need and get back. I’ll explain later.”
Shiro stood and Keith could only wheeze, shaking his head once again and giving Shiro’s arm a tug to make him lean on him for support.
“Keith, I’m okay.”
“Yeah I know. This is for my benefit.” he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief when he got Shiro situated just right and that horrible pressure was alleviated.
“Keith, what are you talking about?”
He only glanced sidelong at him, keeping his silence until they could all pile back into Green and fly back to the castleship.
It was only when they got to the medbay that he was ready to explain, when Shiro was sat on the exam table and his suit pulled down to his hips so Allura and Coran could examine him. A dark, massive bloom of purple and red was already forming. And Keith withheld his sharp breaths of pain as they poked and prodded at him.
Shiro was staring at his bruise all the while, confusion knitting his brow while they worked.
He pressed a hand to it, himself, and Keith shivered at the phantom touch. A barest brush, as if he knew, despite not feeling it, that it wasn’t wise to press too hard.
Keith covered the space with his own hand, and Shiro glanced upward, startled, following the movement of Keith’s fingers, idle and stroking gently over his own pristine skin. He watched in real-time as some sort of epiphany sparked in his eyes.
“Keith?” Allura prodded, “Care to explain what happened down there?”
She was gentle about it, leaning into his line of sight with a hesitant smile.
Keith nodded, “Uh, yeah.” he cleared his throat, “I…suspected it for a while, a week or so.” he began, meeting Shiro’s gaze and keeping it, “I think something…swapped our senses. Shiro and me.”
Allura’s brow rose, “Swapped your senses” she echoed, “How so?”
Keith shrugged, clutching his side when it pulsed with pain.
“Like…Shiro’s ribs. He’s not feeling it, I am.”
Shiro’s eyes went wide at the confirmation, and a silent conversation began as Keith continued to meet his gaze. Watching as he went from shocked to concerned and then…angry, perhaps.
Keith grimaced and hunched his shoulders.
Allura shifted in place, crossing her arms, “You’ve suspected for two cycles? When did this start?”
“After Gyana. Right after.”
Shiro straightened, and Keith exhaled raggedly, taking a deep breath as his ribs settled once again.
“We felt strange when we were there.”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Allura sighed, “I could have examined you.”
“It was a moment, nothing exotic happened, and…I didn’t realize right away. I realized after—“ he cut himself off.
Shiro went bright red in realization and Keith turned his head with a soft laugh at the sheer ludicrousy.
“Anyway, I noticed some strange things, and I didn’t say anything because…” he grasped his arm, squeezing his bicep where he knew Shiro’s arm was fused to his skin.
Allura tilted her head, waiting patiently for him to finish.
“Keith…” Shiro rasped, horrified.
Keith huffed, “I figured you could use the rest.” he said, “I didn’t mind taking it for a while.”
Shiro stood, abrupt, and Keith wavered, caught as he gasped by Allura.
“Alright, Shiro, let’s get you in the pod, we’ll finish this discussion afterward.” she instructed, and Coran immediately went to usher Shiro away.
Keith watched him go, despair welling up in his gut, he was sure he’d made a terrible mistake.
“You need to tell me everything about it, Keith.”
“Yeah…I know.”
“Come, then. I’ll re-examine you.” she sighed.
”It’s some sort of psychic, interdimensional parasite.”
Keith worried his lip between his teeth as Coran showed him the data.
“I’ve never seen it before, but Gyana’s people used to be telepathic, it makes sense that such a creature would evolve there.” he said.
”So…where is it?” Keith wondered, searching his head with careful fingers.
“It’s not so simple,” Allura interjected, “To say it’s a parasite is a guess at best, and a gross understatement at worst. We’re applying our meager four-dimensional understanding of our universe to a creature that exists dozens if not hundreds of dimensions removed.”
”You mean three-dimensional?” Pidge asked.
Allura turned a look her way, something like pity for a race that hadn’t come so far just yet, ”How do you think the wormhole works? It’s not just quintessence.”
Pidge nodded in revelation, “Ohhh, okay.”
“I am so fucking confused right now.” Lance muttered
Allura sighed, “Ahem, anyway, I think it’s some sort of…fringe creature. Living in the space between dimensions to work unencumbered by the restraints of a physical form.”
“What, like a ghost?” Hunk wondered.
“Not quite. Similar, but it’s a creature, not a spirit.” Allura said with an endeared smile.
“Sounds like the space taco.”
Keith hummed, threading his fingers through his hair in distress.
“So is that how it got us? It’s in our minds?”
“I suppose so. It may be a method of reproduction. Latch onto a host or two, your own psychic ability leeches into the mind and by consequence connects them, or their touch receptors…nerves...theoretically some sort of offspring might occur thanks to the electricity in the nervous system.” Allura rationalized aloud, “I don’t see any reasonable explanation aside from that.”
”How do we get rid of it?”
Keith glanced at Shiro.
He had been exceedingly quiet since leaving the pod. At the very least, Keith’s ribs weren’t aching with every breath now that Shiro’s had healed.
“We don’t have to—“
“Yes, we do.” Shiro turned a stern look his way, “It’s a parasite, you heard her. There’s some sort of catch, and I don’t think we wanna find out what that is.”
Keith wilted, nodding.
He didn’t disagree, but…he felt bad. And maybe not telling Shiro was a violation of his person. He never was one to share his pain nor to draw attention to his illness or his arm aside from some bouts of macabre humor. Maybe he was insulted that Keith had taken it upon himself to ‘save him’ from his pain for a while.
In hindsight, it was stupid, and he felt as young as he really was under his calculating eye. Like he was a fifteen-year-old in the Garrison hallway once again, with a bruised cheek and an attitude Shiro would melt away with kindness.
“That is the issue.” Allura conceded, “I need to study it more, but it’s been attached to the both of you for a long time now. I fear whatever damage it has the potential to cause may have been done at this point. I have no way of knowing for certain until I do more research.”
“What if it’s a symbiotic relationship rather than parasitic?” Pidge wondered.
“Could be. But, again, I have to uncover that information. I have my work cut out for me, it seems.”
Keith crossed his arms, drawing his knees up to his chest.
“So what do we do in the meantime?” he asked, soft, almost a murmur.
“You rest. If we need Voltron then it’s another story. But for now, please don’t exert yourselves. Maybe spend some time apart to strain whatever bond has formed.”
Keith flinched at the notion, but Shiro only dipped his head in response.
”Okay.”
And then they all dispersed, and Keith was left to stare at a screen that could barely form the shape of whatever creature had them in its thrall.