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The flora in this forest, Shiro was discovering, was not to be taken lightly.
He let out an undignified “oof” as the giant pink flower he’d gone to push out of the way came snapping back on its stem with a vengeance and before he could even try to duck it smacked him clear across his face.
He immediately squeezed his eyes shut as its bright orange pollen exploded at the hit and the overwhelming scent of something between hibiscus and lavender went straight up his nose.
Over the sounds of his wheezing as he fought to blow the pollen and tiny petals clear he heard another noise.
Laughter.
Pure, contagious laughter.
And as he finally was able to safely crack open his eyes he saw both Lance and Hunk behind him nearly doubled over in their mirth with Lance clinging to Hunk to keep him upright.
“Sh-Shiro,” Lance choked out. “Your, your face.”
“Oh man,” Hunk’s eyes were streaming with tears, “I wish I had my camera.”
Shiro very adult-like stuck his tongue out at them even as he grinned as he imagined it had been pretty funny, especially after he’d just told them to be careful following Hunk’s near tumble into what honestly looked like a giant venus flytrap.
He’d been keeping an eye out for thorns and apparently teeth, not flowers that were spring loaded.
“You’ve got a little pollen there,” Lance rubbed at his own nose and Shiro brought his own to mirror it.
He felt the sneeze oncoming from the action a second later.
Followed by another.
And another.
And another, each one getting progressively higher-pitched and he could hear the boys laughing again.
By the time the sneezing attack had finished Shiro’s eyes were streaming and his nose felt absolutely raw and he was pretty sure he had broken his voice box with how squeak-like the last few sneezes were, but he still found himself smiling at the sight of Lance and Hunk once more absolutely dying with laughter.
They deserved something to laugh and smile about.
He could feel his smile dimming slightly at the thought but Shiro gave a small shake of his head.
No.
This was supposed to be as fun a mission as there could be before things really ramped up with the attack Voltron along with the Blades of Marmora and their allies were planning against the Galra Empire, and Shiro was not going to do anything to ruin it.
He’d been forced to come to terms with too many horrible things in the last year, but one of the ones he felt the most constant guilt and worry over was the fact he was literally leading children into war — and no matter how responsible of seventeen and eighteen year olds they were let alone Pidge’s fifteen they were still children — and while he knew there were so many things he couldn’t fix he could at least make sure they had opportunities to still be kids.
Which had led to this hiking trip through a forest with the promise of a large lake and river that apparently had some unique properties that Coran had said could proved useful to obtain some samples of. Coran’s large wink to Shiro had indicated the samples may just be lending itself to a nice cup of tea purpose and Shiro had shared the wink back, grateful for Coran’s insight. That said, Pidge and Keith had both opted no to go — nature? On purpose? Pidge had scoffed and said she and Keith were going to play video games because he’d never played Phantasm Kill Bot and that was unacceptable and Shiro hadn’t missed the way Keith’s entire expression had softened at the inclusion — but given they were not doing work or training Shiro hadn’t pushed.
And to that note, Shiro had guiltily realized he hadn’t spent all that much time with Lance or Hunk outside of group activities before and this could be a nice way to get to know them both a little better too. He wasn’t blind, even if he was embarrassed, to how much Lance looked up to him and he should have made a better effort before.
But no time like the present and Shiro was so glad he’d had the opportunity now. Lance was quite the storyteller and Hunk’s ability to deadpan to the over the top reactions had had him laughing at multiple points throughout the trek, and while Shiro had no plans to go swimming himself he knew both boys wanted to do so — provided the water was indeed safe and Hunk had test strips — and Hunk had packed them a picnic lunch to enjoy.
It was a pretty awesome day, all things considered.
Just minus the part where he’d been bested by a flower.
Fortunately for Shiro’s dignity the rest of the hike they encountered nothing more treacherous than some easily avoidable thorned vines and ten minutes later they were coming upon the lake, the crashing sound of the river rapids further upstream providing a nice ambiance, and Lance let out a loud whoop and began to shed his clothes even as Hunk admonished him and said he hadn’t even checked if the water was safe yet.
Shiro let out a soft laugh and sank down to a sit on one of the larger rocks that dotted the shore with a shake of his head that he nearly immediately regretted at the sudden sensation of dizziness it caused.
That was weird.
He let out a slow breath through his still raw feeling nose.
Apparently the hike had made him a little more dehydrated than he’d thought. Shiro knew he should go get some water — and preferably the pouches he knew Hunk had in his bag as whether the water was deemed safe or not he’d prefer not to drink it — but for the moment he remained sitting on the rock, watching fondly as Hunk carefully lowered a test strip into the shallows and Lance, dressed now in just his boxer shorts danced impatiently next to him for the results.
He didn’t hear Hunk’s verdict but based on Lance’s shout of delight and the sound of a splash he could hazard what it was. Hunk turned away from the shore, something about setting out some snacks first, and Shiro closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of the sunshine pleasantly warm beating down and the quiet roar from the water and Lance’s splashing and happy shrieks.
This was nice.
He knew he’d wanted the break for the younger members, but… he wasn’t that old himself, all things considered, and he needed a break too.
He let out a breath.
He was just starting to feel like he could fall asleep when there was an uncomfortable prickle across his skin as though the sun was now painfully bright instead of comfortably warm.
And…
Shiro winced as the roar of the river was growing louder — it almost sounded like voices now and it made his head ache — and there were louder, almost angry sounding shrieks filling the air that were not Lance’s happy tones of before and it was getting more intense and Shiro’s eyes snapped open.
The Arena greeted him back.
Shiro’s breath hitched as he blinked.
The Arena with its bright, blinding lights and screaming crowds remained.
What, what was—?
How?
Movement drew his gaze and he spotted what had to be his opponent several yards away, shouting and sneering at him even if the alien’s face was indistinct; a flash of tan and nearly glowing white teeth as it made gestures with its hands.
Shiro’s pulse pounded in his head and it only grew worse as he staggered to his feet, feeling unbalanced but knowing there was no time for that.
Kill or be killed.
And if he didn’t engage soon enough then they would force him to.
He shuddered and took a halting step forward.
The alien shouted at him, baring its teeth, and issuing what had to be a taunt even if the tone wasn’t cruel enough for it. “Come on Shiro, it’s not that cold!”
How…
How did his opponent know his name?
Everyone called him Champion.
“Come on!” and the alien swept his hand in an arc—
And Shiro gasped as something cold and wet splashed lightly against his chest.
Water, his mind processed.
Somehow there was water in the Arena.
And all of a sudden he could see it and he could see that his opponent was halfway submerged and clearly the course had been adjusted to give that alien the advantage.
He wondered if it was for the betting pools or if someone had dared to challenge the witch’s claim to Champion being the best and take him out.
But Shiro…
He stood, trembling, right arm feeling heavier than ever at his side.
He didn’t know if he could swim or if he would sink and drown.
He didn’t know if the water would create any type of shock that would incapacitate him as well.
It’d be best to lure his opponent — who was smaller than him, he could easily overpower him — over towards the more shallow waters and kill him there.
He raised up his prosthetic, curling the fingers in a “come” motion and summoned the sharpest grin he could to his face as intimidation and confidence could not be overestimated in either infuriating his opponents or getting them to charge.
Shiro hated fighting enough, if at least he felt more like he was defending than attacking it didn’t make him feel quite as sick.
The alien let out a battle cry and ran forward, water churning with every footfall.
To Shiro’s surprise though he stopped his advance before he reached Shiro and instead swept his arm down again into the water, summoning a much larger wave than the sprinkle of last time.
Shiro swung his own arms up to block it, angling his head back to avoid the spray, shivering at how cold it was and staggering back a step as the alien sent another wave at him, feeling the current tugging around his calves.
“Shiro, man,” the alien taunted, stepping closer and hands spread innocently at his sides even though Shiro knew it was a trick, “you’re supposed to splash me back.”
Shiro remained silent, body tensing as he prepared his own counter.
“Shiro?” his opponent cocked his head, mocking him. “Are you o—?”
Shiro lunged.
This alien was quick, Shiro gave him that, as he ducked, avoiding the left thrown punch.
He couldn’t avoid the right hook though.
Shiro caught him with his elbow right around the slender looking neck and dragged down, sending them both splashing into the water just below their knees.
The alien made a garbled sounding choking noise, hands flinging themselves up to try to grab at Shiro’s arm and pull it free.
Shiro only tightened his grip and using his other hand grabbed the back of the alien’s dark head, twisted his fingers in the hair there, and shoved down and forced his opponent’s entire face into the water with another splash.
The alien frantically bucked, legs kicking wildly as Shiro pushed down harder, willing for the neck to either snap or for the water to do its work.
He felt sick already at the fact it wasn’t as quick a death as he preferred, but better to drown the alien then risk shocking himself with the unknown elements of his prosth—
“What are you doing?” came a panicked shriek from behind and Shiro craned his neck, feeling his pulse jump as there were two opponents and how the fuck had he not seen the other one?
Could this one control water too? It was running in from the edge of the Arena, larger than the first one but the same sort of tan coloring with bright white teeth.
“Shiro, stop!” it screamed still charging and Shiro’s heart thundered as while he could feel the struggles of his first opponent slowing he wasn’t dead yet and if Shiro released him depending on his control of the water he might not have another chance. He didn’t see a weapon on the larger one and Shiro knew he could take a hit of brute force and be okay.
It would be best to kill the original opponent first, he decided on, turning his attention and both hands now to shove down at the dark head under the water, as just in case of failure against multiple opponents great acts of violence and death could keep you alive.
He’d kill this one for sure to give himself his best odds at survival.
The frantic movements were stilling.
The charging alien was still screaming.
Almost there.
Almost there.
Almost—
The second opponent crashed into Shiro like a freight train.
And Shiro belatedly realized he’d underestimate this alien’s strength as he was uprooted, sent tumbling in a tangle of limbs.
Hands — large, Shiro noted, but not clawed — clamped down on his shoulders and Shiro let out another gasp as he was bodily yanked sideways, his back crying out in pain at the contortion and his own hands balled into fists and he smashed it against the alien’s broad back.
The alien let out a shout but his own grip did not release and those hands lifted Shiro up and then slammed him down.
Shiro let out a yell equal parts pained and panicked as water closed over his head. He popped free a second later, arms rising up—
And a punch connected directly with his face.
Shiro went down, stars bursting in his eyes and for the second time slipping back under the water.
That time though as he pulled himself free with a sputter and choking on water that had gone up his nose and down his throat, there was no attack.
The second opponent wasn’t there at all.
Shiro blearily watched through water dripping down his face as the alien was running towards his first opponent, lying motionless in the water where Shiro had lost his grip on him, screaming for some reason the name of a weapon.
“Lance! Lance! Oh G-God, Lance!”
The same large hands that had so violently attacked Shiro were hooking themselves beneath the armpits of the other alien and pulling him free of the water, dragging the limp body up and cradling it in his arms with a violent sounding sob.
And then he turned his back on Shiro and ran.
Shiro remained where he was sitting, chest rising rapidly and feeling dizzy and off-balance and since there was no imminent attack he could take a few seconds to steady himself before he pursued.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the dizziness and the still dripping water coming off his hair and he sputtered as he felt some of it go up his nose as he inhaled a heavy breath. The roaring of the crowds at least was starting to fade and that was good as he needed to concentrate and—
Crowds?
Why was he—?
Shiro blinked open his eyes, wincing at the bright sunshine above and that made sense but didn’t make sense and what was—?
His gaze tracked across the lake — he was sitting in the shallows of the lake but hadn’t he been on shore? When did he get here? — to where he saw Hunk kneeling at the very edge of the water, Lance lying in front of him and—
Shiro’s heart stopped beating as two realities beat against his mind.
He’d been in the Arena.
(He was at the lake.)
An opponent had been there.
(Lance had wanted him to come swimming.)
He’d attacked.
(Lance had splashed him).
Kill or be killed.
(He’d tried to drown Lance).
There’d been a second opponent.
(Hunk had come to Lance’s rescue).
Shiro had been attacked.
(Hunk had taken him down).
The second opponent had retreated in the opening.
(Hunk had dragged Lance out of the water).
The first opponent wasn’t moving.
(Lance wasn’t moving).
The first opponent was…
(Lance was…)
God.
He’d, he’d…
Shiro tasted bile.
He swallowed it back as he staggered to his feet, pulse roaring in his head.
God, what did he…?
What had he done?
He trembled.
Hunk across the way continued to perform CPR, administering rescue breaths.
Even from here Shiro could see that Lance…
Lance wasn’t breathing.
Shiro took a shaky step forward.
And honey eyes blown wide with fear somehow pinned him down from yards away even as his hands landed back in a press over Lance’s heart and rhythmically were pushing down.
“Stay b-back,” Hunk choked out.
Shiro immediately froze at the pure terror in those words.
Hunk — not even knowing if he was still in danger — pulled his gaze away from Shiro’s and returned all of his attention to Lance’s too still chest, guttural sob echoing across the lake.
Shiro’s own fear kept him rooted, his vision tunneling in on the two boys, cheek throbbing.
He’d…
He’d…
God, he’d…
He’d just killed Lance.
Shiro’s legs violently trembled beneath him, breath coming in harsh pants.
He’d…
He’d sworn to protect them.
These, these children.
And he’d murdered Lance.
He hadn’t even hesitated.
“L-Lance,” Hunk’s sob drew him back to the heartbreaking scene on the shore. “Please. Por favor. Please, you, you c-can’t.”
He resumed rescue breaths.
Lance still wasn’t moving.
He might never move again.
But, but if there was a chance…
Shiro couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. Whatever had happened, he was in control of himself now.
He could help.
He needed to help.
He took a shaky step forward, water sloshing.
Hunk’s head jerked up.
Shiro wasn’t sure how to explain, wasn’t even entirely sure what had happened, but…
But time was of the essence and he couldn’t waste it.
He couldn’t waste any more of Hunk’s either as he tried to save Lance’s life.
So Shiro lifted both of his hands up in the classic ‘I surrender’ pose and voice trembling as much as his legs called out Hunk’s name.
“It’s, it’s me,” he licked his lips, tasting lake water. “Shiro.”
Hunk stared at him, fear warring with suspicion and Shiro couldn’t blame him.
“I can help,” Shiro offered. “Please,” and his voice cracked. “Let me help him.”
And Hunk gave a short nod of his head, trusting Shiro’s words over his earlier actions even if the suspicion remained and his eyes tracked Shiro’s every step, trembling where he knelt by Lance.
“I’ll do breaths,” Shiro offered, leaving the ultimate choice to Hunk as to his role in this rescue attempt, but knowing that right now his control of his prosthetic was not good and the last thing Lance needed was him to apply too much pressure and…
Hunk gave another jerky nod.
Shiro took up his position as Hunk resumed chest compressions, counting aloud now even if the numbers were more of gasps than anything.
At his mark Shiro pinched Lance’s nose, tipped his head back — exposing dark red marks all around Lance’s neck and God, he’d done that, he’d done that — pressed his lips to cold ones and breathed.
And again.
And again.
He came back up and Hunk gave the barest shake of his head before he resumed his count and compressions.
Shiro did another round of breaths.
Compressions.
Breaths.
He could feel Hunk starting to flag next to him, arms shaking more and more as reality pressed in colder and crueler and Shiro squeezed his eyes shut even if he should witness every failed moment and the final call on Lance’s life because he’d done this, he deserved every bit of pain that—
And a choking gasp filled the air.
Shiro’s eyes flew open just in time to see Hunk frantically rolling Lance onto his side as the boy convulsed and vomited up water and bile.
He…
He was alive.
Shiro sat back on the ground with a thump he didn’t even feel as his eyes drank in the sight of Lance, clearly in pain but alive.
He, he hadn’t…
Lance let out a strangled sounding cry and Hunk was gathering him into his arms a second later with soft murmurs and a sob of his own, hunching over Lance as though to shield him.
To protect him.
To protect him from Shiro.
And while the relief did not fade the sensation of ice stabbing into Shiro’s chest and the guilt and horror became ten times worse.
He silently pulled himself to his feet and made for where Hunk had spread out several snacks on a checkered picnic blanket. It felt like years ago they’d been planning a picnic and a swim, not the maybe fifteen minutes it had been since this nightmare had begun.
Shiro numbly but carefully shifted the food back into the pack and gathered up the blanket, walking just as slowly back to Hunk and trying his best to show he was no threat.
He wasn’t sure though if he trusted himself and so he didn’t allow himself to feel hurt when Hunk didn’t meet his eyes as he took the blanket without a word and tucked it as best he could around Lance, now shivering and crying softly, while Hunk murmured — something in Spanish, Shiro picked out — and rocked Lance.
“Estás bien,” Hunk whispered. “Estás bien. Estoy aquí.”
Shiro backed away from them, making sure to remain in Hunk’s sightline, and sank into a sit, hands pillowed in his lap and he wondered if he should find something to restrain himself with.
If, if he attacked them again…
He shook.
But the bigger question was…
Why?
Why had he thought he was back in the Arena? What had made him see enemies? It was almost like he’d hallucinated—
Shiro’s breath caught as pieces clicked into place.
The flower.
The pollen.
He’d inhaled it, barely ten minutes before… before that.
It must have had some sort of hallucinogenic property.
And, and then when Hunk had shoved him into the water it had flushed out his nose and throat and whatever remnants had been in his system disappeared.
It explained the hallucination.
But…
Shiro shivered.
Why had it been so violent?
Was…
Was that who he really was?
Some…
Some monster?
He tasted bile again, feeling his left fingers digging into his palm as his hands balled into fists while his right…
His right felt nothing.
Just like he’d felt nothing as he used it to both try to strangle and drown Lance to death.
And that time he couldn’t swallow it back.
Vomit spilled just as much as his horror over his lips and it just made Shiro want to vomit more.
God.
God.
He let out another heaving gasp, bracing himself on his arms as his entire body shook and God, what was wrong with him, how could he have—?
And without any warning a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.
Shaking, slender arms.
Lance.
Lance was hugging him.
Shiro made another choking noise, first instinct to pull away, to get away before he hurt Lance again.
The arms only tightened.
And then another pair — large and strong and Shiro knew firsthand now how much those hands could hurt in their defense of another — wrapped around him from the side and essentially pinning Lance to Shiro and Shiro from getting up.
Shiro let out a sob, shaking his head.
“It’s okay,” Lance’s voice was a rasp, pain clear in just those words. “It’s okay. I’m okay, Shiro. I’m okay. I promise.”
Another sob clawed its way out of Shiro’s throat.
No.
This wasn’t okay.
He’d tried to kill Lance.
For all intents and purposes he had.
And, and now Lance was comforting him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Hunk’s breath was warm on Shiro’s ear and Shiro faintly realized he wasn’t the only one who’d come to the conclusion the flower pollen had been involved and not that Shiro had just…
Snapped.
But still.
Shiro shook his head, refuting the words.
No.
He had done that.
He’d lost himself to a hallucination and let fear control him.
That was on him.
Not some flower.
Hunk’s grip only tightened, but not painfully.
It was silent then save for Shiro’s heavy breaths as he tried to get them under control and the dull roar of the rapids further up.
And then Lance coughed, Shiro feeling the entire slender frame shake at the action.
“Come on,” Hunk’s voice was so soft and warm and a complete contrast to earlier, “you both need some medical attention.”
And Shiro learned then that Hunk always traveled with a small med kit, nestled inside the bag with the food.
Shiro had waved off the boy’s initial assistance as Lance needed it more than him and he watched as Hunk tenderly helped Lance — limbs still shaky — back into his clothes that Lance had discarded along the shore and then to sit down on one of the larger rocks directly in a warm patch of sunshine and dot his neck with a bruise cream and stood by as Lance with a wince swallowed two of the Glornack seeds — alien aspirin.
Shiro couldn’t stop looking at Lance’s neck.
He could see his fingerprints embedded in the skin.
His stomach turned again.
For better or worse he had nothing left to expel.
Hunk tucked the picnic blanket snugly around Lance, pressed a kiss to the top of the damp head, and then determined honey eyes zeroed in on Shiro, where he’d also gotten himself atop a sun-warmed rock and could feel his wet clothes seeping into the stone, but otherwise hadn’t been able to do much else.
“Let me see,” Hunk tapped his own cheek — and Shiro was violently thrown back into the memory of Lance doing nearly the same thing with the pollen and God, what had he done? — and he came out of it as a set of hands then landed upon both of his cheeks, squeezing gently but firmly.
“Shiro,” Hunk’s voice was surprisingly steady. “It’s okay. Breathe.”
It was more the shock of Hunk actually issuing him an order than the actual instructions that let Shiro do so.
But, he supposed, Hunk was stronger in so many ways than Shiro had ever given him credit for.
Both Lance and Hunk were.
To so easily be able to not just forgive but to provide comfort and support to the person who had just tried to kill you…
Shiro let out a soft gasp as cold, wet hands tapped his cheek and he realized a moment later Hunk was not only getting his attention but smearing the bruise cream on his cheek where Hunk had punched him.
It was an injury Shiro knew he was going to let heal naturally; no pod.
It was a pain and a reminder he deserved, regardless of Hunk and Lance’s forgiveness and understanding.
“We need to talk,” Hunk said quietly as he expertly secured a bandage to Shiro’s cheek. “All of us.”
Shiro gave a mute nod.
He knew.
He just…
He still didn’t know what to say.
How did he explain what kind of monster he really was?
To Shiro’s shame, both Hunk and Lance moved towards him a minute later because he couldn’t find the strength to stand.
“So,” and despite the rasp Lance sounded almost cheerful and ocean eyes sought out Shiro’s before he averted his own, unable to meet them, “we’re all in agreement the flowers here suck, right?”
Shiro’s head snapped back up, incredulous.
Lance’s smile was smaller than his normal grins but it was no less genuine.
He, he really…
Shiro’s eyes blurred with sudden tears and Lance’s smile immediately fell, concern Shiro didn’t deserve washing over his features.
“I’m sorry,” Shiro bowed his head and then his entire upper body shifting slightly to angle it between both Lance and Hunk. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shiro—” Lance tried to interrupt him.
“I hurt you,” Shiro cut him off. “I tried to kill you,” his voice cracked.
“It’s oka—”
“It’s not okay,” Shiro snapped, yanking his head back up and regretting the sharp tone immediately but neither Lance or Hunk looked upset.
Just concerned.
And scared, but… but not for themselves.
For him.
Shiro curled his left hand into a fist to stop the tremble.
“It’s not okay,” he repeated, quieter. “I, I know the pollen caused the hallucination, but…”
He swallowed thickly.
“What happened?” Hunk asked quietly, carefully.
Shiro couldn’t tell them.
He had to tell them.
He didn’t deserve to be a leader in their eyes anymore, to be Lance’s hero.
He was a monster.
And even though he’d escaped the Arena…
Part of him was still there.
He swallowed again.
“I thought…” he could barely hear himself but he couldn’t make himself speak louder. “I thought I was in the Arena.”
Neither boy said anything.
But a slender hand landed atop Shiro’s curled left fist and Hunks gave a comforting squeeze as it descended upon his knee and Shiro hurriedly blinked back more tears.
“I’m not sure why I, I thought that,” he made himself continue. “Everything sort of… shifted. The sun became the lights. The rapids the roar of the crowds. And Lance,” he made himself look up, “you became my opponent.”
“Shiro, you don’t have to say anything else,” Lance said softly. “It’s okay.”
Shiro shook his head.
No.
They’d more than earned the right to know.
“In, in the Arena… it was kill or be killed,” he whispered. “Every match. Win and live, lose and die. I… I thought I was back there. I was… I was scared,” his voice cracked again. “I thought…” he trailed off.
“I’m so sorry,” Lance whispered, his hand squeezing Shiro’s. “I’m so sorry, Shiro.”
Shiro shook his head.
He didn’t deserve sympathy or understanding.
“What I don’t know is… is why I thought that. Why my first reaction was violence. It, it could have been a hallucination of anything and yet I…”
There was only one explanation.
He was a monster.
The Arena had turned him into a monster and no Paladin armor could hide it anymore.
“I know we don’t talk about the Arena,” Hunk said softly and Shiro winced. “But Shiro… I think you need to. What, what you went through there… that’s trauma. And you,” Hunk licked his lips, glancing at Lance who gave a small nod of encouragement and Shiro felt his stomach clench as what exactly had they apparently discussed already, “you probably, no, you do, for sure… you have PTSD.”
Shiro’s eyes widened.
What?
“I’ve read a lot about it,” Hunk continued. “You can never know enough emergency medical stuff, you know?” and his lips quirked up into a ghost of a smile before they fell flat. “And, and what you went through, what you’re still going through with everything going on… that takes a toll, Shiro. And you’re hurting, even if you won’t come out and say it.”
Shiro felt faint.
Hunk thought that…?
No.
Not just Hunk. Lance too.
And they’d clearly discussed it amongst themselves before this.
“That’s why it was of the Arena,” Lance picked up softly. “You’re… you’re hurting, Shiro, and those memories and feelings don’t just go away. And I know it’s scary. Heck, if I’d gone through what you did, I don’t think I’d be getting out of bed in the morning. But you do. Every day. And you protect us and try to protect everyone so no one ever has to go through what you did. But right now…” Lance’s other hand rose to hold Shiro’s between both of his, “it’s time we protect you. Let us help you, Shiro. Please.”
And as charcoal flitted between warm honey brown and gentle ocean eyes, there was no lie in them, no fear, no disgust.
Just concern and love and no judgement.
They didn’t see him as a monster at all.
And they were telling him that no matter what he’d done, he was deserving of kindness. Of love and support and to be the one who sometimes needed protecting.
He deserved all of that.
And with a smile and a sob Shiro inclined his head.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
And as two sets of arms wrapped about him in a gentle hug, Shiro closed his eyes, returned the embrace, and acknowledged that he deserved that comfort too.