Chapter Text
The morning air was sweet and crisp on planet Etera. Their mission was simple: take back a ceremonial stone from the last remaining Galra base on the planet, return it, and stay for the festival that followed the next day. Piece of cake.
The problem was that without that ceremony taking place within the next 48 hours, the planet would die, returning to its natural barren wasteland state without the blessing of the Goddess and the shared love of all of the Eterians.
The Eterians, with their life forces tied to the planet’s core, would then die a slow and painful death, no matter if they evacuated or not. Therefore, Team Voltron’s options were to retrieve the stone and proceed with the ceremony and festival or book it off of Etera so they weren’t caught in the wreckage of the planet.
Lance had taken off his helmet twenty minutes or so into the hike to the base, and the others had followed his example shortly after. Keith was grateful for it. He couldn’t imagine what this would be like breathing the stuffy, recycled air from his suit the whole time.
Quiet conversation flowed between Lance and Hunk behind him, and he listened to the bird-like creatures trilling in the trees above them. It was nice. He liked this planet, he decided.
***
Arriving at the base was relatively easy. However, when they got there, they found it crawling with ten times more Galra than they expected. Keith vaguely heard Lance mutter a curse under his breath, staring at the scene.
There were at least fifteen Galra guarding the perimeter, along with forty or more on each floor that they could see inside through the windows. The Stone of Prosperity—that’s what they were after—was located in the center of the third and top floor of the base. Keith wondered to himself how so many Galra could even fit into one small building.
“Alright,” Shiro began, keeping his voice down so they wouldn’t be overheard. “We need that stone. But this place is very, very heavily guarded. I want Hunk and Pidge to storm in first, since you two fight well together and can do the most damage on your own.
“Lance, I want you to find a way up to the third floor. Snipe the Galra up there, but try to stay out of sight. Just remember, you’re our sharpshooter. You can do it. Keith, you’re with me. We’re Hunk and Pidge’s backup. If they have the bottom floor, though, we’re in charge of the second floor. And remember, nobody be too scared. We’ve won harder fights. Everyone copy?”
“Copy.” Everyone repeated back. Hunk and Pidge ran in first, Hunk letting loose a massive battle cry as he shot his weapon left right and center, hitting any Galra soldier he could. Pidge mainly acted as his guard dog, taking down anyone who came too close to Hunk.
Once the bottom floor was thoroughly distracted, Lance ran over to the base and scaled the walls easily, climbing the emergency escape ladder, vaulting himself onto the third floor’s platform. He aimed through a window and started shooting, ducking underneath out of sight and moving to a new window after every shot to be less traceable.
Keith hung back, watching. He tore his gaze away from Lance to see how Hunk and Pidge were doing, and was concerned to see them still as heavily outnumbered as when they started. He thought they’d be able to take down more by now. He glanced at Shiro, who nodded. The two of them ran towards their friends on the ground floor, joining the fight.
Keith was in his element here. He dove through the crowds, using his agility to his advantage and sweeping his sword in large arcs to injure as many Galra at once as he could.
He heard Hunk laugh with newfound hope for the battle and pick up the pace. Keith grinned with satisfaction. He wasn’t the best with words, but you couldn’t beat the rush of inspiring your teammates.
They fought like this for a long time, eventually clearing the bottom floor and moving up to the second floor. Keith was tiring, but he wouldn’t show it. He had the feeling the others were doing the same.
He was battling a Galra soldier who had picked up on his fighting style, countering his attacks with precision and matching his speed. Keith grit his teeth and went for another blow, but just as he was about to strike, he felt a searing pain on his back. He fell forwards with a gasp.
He distantly heard Pidge’e voice, shrill and panicked, calling his name. His head spun, his vision blurred, and all he could feel was shockwaves of agony and fire spreading all over his back. He was vaguely aware of the others gathering around him to defend him from the Galra and Shiro picking him up, blacking out for a second when his hand grazed the wound on his back.
“Lance, we need to get out of here!” Shiro called on the comms. “Keith’s been shot. Coran, ready a pod!”
Keith groaned, trying to say he could carry himself, that he didn’t need a pod, but his mouth wouldn’t work. In the back of his mind, he thought to himself that he knew he needed help anyways. He wasn’t stupid, just stubborn.
Then Shiro started running, and the pain that shot up his back with every step was enough to knock the wind out of him and cause his vision to fade to black.
***
Lance ran right behind Shiro as they hurried Keith to the medbay. He was infinitely glad that they had taken only two lions, and even more glad that Red wasn’t one of them. This emergency meant that they couldn’t get the stone, which means that planet Etera and everything on it would soon be turned to a massive pile of space dust.
He felt terrible, of course, but the team was more important. Keith was more important. Shiro laid Keith down face-down on one of the cots, and Coran was already there, removing Keith’s armor as fast as he could. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk watched with wide eyes, holding their breath as Coran and Shiro managed to get his chestplate off, revealing the wound—and the scars on his bare chest.
Pidge gasped softly and Lance stared, dumbfounded. Keith had top surgery scars.
“If you’re going to stare, get out,” Shiro snapped, protectiveness laced in his voice. The three of them shook their heads quickly, apologizing.
“We just…didn’t know.” Pidge said. “But all that matters right now is that he’s okay.”
Lance and Hunk nodded.
Shiro and Coran hurried to get Keith into a pod, and once he was sealed, Shiro stared, face filled with worry for his little brother. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk came up to join him.
Keith looked paler than usual. Lance swallowed. He reached out and touched the glass of the pod. Keith was always pale, with light, porcelain skin that somehow never broke out despite his blatant lack of a skincare routine. It annoyed Lance to no end. It was one more thing that Keith was so effortlessly perfect at that Lance tried way too hard to simply match him at.
But now, he was gaunt and sickly. The usual subtle flush on his skin was absent, graying his skin. His long lashes brushed his cheekbones, eyelids fluttering. Lance wondered what he was dreaming about…
***
Keith was wearing his helmet, but he couldn’t breathe in the vast expanse of space. He was distantly aware that he was alone, not even a spacecraft in the distance. He watched the stars twinkle as he floated, vision going blurry. He felt his lungs screaming in pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.
He tried to take a breath, and he could have sworn he felt his lungs fill with liquid. He coughed, but his limbs still wouldn’t work. It was as if he was stuck in a vat of thick, sticky jelly.
At least the stars are beautiful, he thought as the world faded to black.