Your Name
Kuron adjusted the Galran General armor as he stepped into the Castle of Lions, reveling in the increased pressure against his shoulders. It was heavier, hanging with the promise of protection that he had never truly felt in the Paladin armor. Lotor had customized it to account for his height and build, and he made a point of engineering a protective device that could shield him from Haggar’s influence into his helmet. Although they had already removed the chip that gave Haggar control over him, Kuron couldn’t help but ask himself whenever he was in a meeting room, listening to new weapons schematics, or sitting with Lotor on his late-night Pretty-Allura rants that Haggar could somehow still infiltrate him. To accidentally sabotage the team again, this time potentially fatally, that would be something Kuron couldn’t endure, especially since Zarkon had recently drained all the quintessence out of a planet (mercifully, it had been uninhabited, according to Krolia) and used it do destroy a supply convoy. Kuron couldn’t bear to do anything else that would help that tyrant.
But Lotor had simply smiled, patting his shoulder as he surveyed Kuron earlier that morning for their coming departure.
“You look good,” he said warmth reflecting in those usually sharp blue eyes. “Purple suits you. As a protector of the Emperor of the Galran Empire, it is only fitting that you should share the purple robe with us.”
“It would be my honor, Emperor Lotor,” replied Kuron with a low bow. “I only hope to live up to your expectations.”
Lotor chuckled, turning on his heel to go inspect his ship.
“You already have.”
Kuron wasn’t sure how that one was possible; Lotor had only officially offered him a place as a General after they had touched down on Earth. There had been no battles since then, only scouting patrols and Blade teams dipping in to update them all on the situation. Zarkon and Haggar had recently seemed to have lost some ships due to a mechanical error, according to a few captains, and Kolivan had personally scanned the fleet to make sure that those ships were actually missing. As soon as he confirmed it, Allura and Lotor agreed that it was time to begin their expeditions to gather allies and sabotage bases. Kuron’s lips quirked as he reflected on the quick planning of his old team. Lotor and Kuron would hit the clone base first, remove the chips, and relocate those who didn’t want to join in the fighting. Any who wanted to would come with Kuron and Lotor back to the Galran Empire so they could rally and launch a surprise attack on Zarkon’s rearguard while Voltron crushed them from the front.
It was a good plan in theory. Still, there was a reason Lance had laughed when Kuron asked how it would hold up in battle.
“Dude, this is Haggar,” replied Lance with a snorting laugh. “Not a chance. It’s just enough to keep everything in line so that we can react correctly during the battle. As Moltke says, ‘no plan survives first death with the enemy,’”
“First contact!” Cut in Keith, punching Lance in the arm as everyone else filed out of the room. “Death is besides the point, goofball! Now come on, let’s take Nadia and Sylvio out for ice cream. Sylvio fell asleep when I was reading to him last time, and Nadia ended up on top of my head somehow.”
“Eating ice cream’s not going to stop that last part,” Lance said with a sparkling laugh, patting Kuron on the shoulder and shooting a grin at him. “No worries, man. We’ve always managed this before, we can do it again.”
Kuron knew that, theoretically at least. If anyone could pull them through a comet-powered Haggar weapon, it was those two. He squared his shoulders, ears pricking up as he heard faint thuds coming from the training room. His feet guided him towards the sounds automatically, his eyes still glazed over with thoughts. Keith and Lance had figured out how to co-pilot the Black Lion of Voltron, had made impossible allies, won against odds that would make anyone else turn and run, and faced down Haggar’s latest weapons at every turn. Not to mention, Lance and Pidge had apparently managed to mind meld during a battle and unlock some sort of new form for both of their bayards? Honestly, Kuron could only make sense of so much of their late-night shrieking.
“Oh, hey! Didn’t expect to see you here, Kuron,” greeted Lance, spinning under a kick from the training gladiator and body-slamming it out of the arena; Kuron nearly tripped over his own feet at the sudden voice. “Lotor’s verifying coordinates with Pidge right now in her tech fortress, so I wouldn’t bother trying to find them.”
Kuron chuckled as the gladiator sank through the floor and Lance took a gulp from his water bottle; everyone knew not to disturb Pidge once she had assumed queenship of her tech fortress.
“Late night for her again?” He asked, strolling into the training room to lean against a nearby shooting post.
“Yep!” Replied Lance with a snort. “I found her passed out at the kitchen table in the morning with Keith. She’s been especially workaholicky lately,” he added, lips pursing. “I could probably count how much sleep she’s had all week on one hand. Well, I’m planning on trapping her in her room and then flopping on her stomach until she sleeps when she comes back from her trip, so if you return to my beheaded corpse, cast first suspicion on Pidge!”
Kuron let out a bark of laughter, adjusting against the post. Why did it feel like there were so many stab holes in addition to Lance’s usual blaster fire?
“Sure Lance, I’ll investigate one of the galaxy’s top hackers who will have managed to kill one of the universe’s best fighters, I’m sure nothing can go wrong with that.”
Lance spluttered, and Kuron let one of his grins leak out. Be more honest. Meet Lance where he was. Just try.
“Totally,” teased Lance, swinging his bayard into his hand and extending it into a sword. “Hey, you want to hop into the arena with me one more time? For old times sake?”
Kuron winced and Lance cringed the tick the words left his mouth. There was nothing about their old times Kuron wanted to honor like that. He shifted, eyes darting to the exit, and an excuse on the tip of his tongue when Lance’s eyes flashed like lightning strikes, and his Altean marks lit up a sharp blue. Lance flipped into his corner of the arena, glancing back at Kuron and nodding his head towards the opponent’s square with a grin.
“Come on,” he pleaded, giving Kuron that signature puppy dog pout that always left Hunk groaning and Lance with an extra cookie on his plate. “One last bout!”
Kuron could feel his prosthetic acutely below the armor, a faint ache pulsing through the metal in time with the image flitting before his eyes. He didn’t ever want Lance to look at him like that again, like he was ticks away from being choked on the ground, like he was fighting for his life, like Kuron could…as if he would ever…
“Pleaseeeeee,” whined Lance, slinging his helmet on. “It’ll be good training! Plus, it’s our last chance!”
But Kuron didn’t want Lance’s last memory of him to be as an opponent, even in an arena. He didn’t want to be someone Lance was afraid of anymore. He wanted those days to be over. Over. Over over over over, please let this be over—
“Kuron?” Asked Lance, cocking his head as his smile turned brittle as ice during the spring. “You up for it?”
“Bring it.”
The words sped from Kuron’s mouth as he stepped forwards instinctively, as if he could somehow bring sunshine in with him and melt away the shards of hesitation frozen in Lance’s eyes. As if he had ever been anything but ice to Lance.
“Awesome!” Cheered Lance, whooping as Kuron’s feet thudded across from him. “Don’t blame me when I wipe the floor with you, Mr. Big Man!”
Kuron gritted his teeth, fingers clenching into his palm hard enough to leave crescents stamped into his skin. He knew those words. And Lance did too.
He stepped back, heel hissing against the ground as his fists rose, a faint growl on his lips. Lance smirked, chin tipped up as he tossed his bayard to the side and slid into a boxing stance, his movements fluid and sharp. He didn’t bounce on his heels the way he used to either, but his eyes still flashed with that hint of gold that always made Kuron feel like Lance had the power to see right through him.
Maybe that was why Lance had always been the one he was most afraid of. With those lightning-blue eyes, that knowing lilt to his lips, that perpetually understanding hand that would rest on his shoulder right when he most needed and least wanted to be seen, to be known like tha—
Lance materialized barely an inch from Kuron’s face, and every thought burned up in the clone’s mind except for one: fight.
Kuron dove to the side, spinning in a crouch to block Lance’s shin from slamming into his nose. The impact forced a grunt from his lungs, but his lips curved into a smile; Lance’s strikes had never been this powerful before. Kuron lashed a sweeping kick at Lance’s ankle, block shifting to allow his fingers to clamp down on Lance’s calf as the Black Paladin’s eyes traced his movements. And, in that split tick, Kuron felt all the air leave his lungs because Lance was……he was grinning? His shoulders were bunched, his weight was shifting, the clone’s foot was inches from his own, and he met Kuron’s gaze with an unflinchingly brilliant light radiating from his Altean markings, from his eyes, his curved lips, his everything. Yes, this was exactly why Kuron feared Lance. Lance popped his foot off the ground at the last tick, slapping his palm down to anchor him barely an inch behind Kuron’s sweep. He hung there for a split second, elbow bending to redirect weight from his wrist, teeth gritted in a grin and cerulean eyes flashing like a tiger’s. Then he tucked his knee in and launched his free heel at the side of Kuron’s head.
Even when he seemed to be losing, Lance never stopped smiling.
Kuron thanked every deity he knew of right then for Lotor’s decision to give him a helmet as he was knocked off his feet by Lance’s stomping kick. He rolled backwards, digging his feet into the ground and throwing himself far enough away to regain his footing with a faint hiss. Lance circled near the edge of the arena, his feet dancing along the lines, his back flattened as if up against a wall and his fists keeping close to his nose. Armored fights were always a little more physical; they could take more chances and pull less punches with a cushion between the floor and their heads.
“Awww, come on,” goaded Lance, raising his chin as his words hid the faint hiss of the door opening. “I won’t sweep you too hard.”
Kuron snorted, the phantom tap of Lance’s ankle against his forcing a lump into his throat. How had he failed Lance in so many ways? He sucked in a breath sharp enough to cut glass and braced his feet as Lance crept closer, slowly shrinking the circle he rotated around Kuron. A vicious warmth flared down Kuron’s metallic arm, and his stomach dropped like a chunk of Balmeran crystal had gotten lodged in it. Or maybe that was just the weight of a future he had so badly hurt.
Kuron didn’t even want to look at the hissing purple that was curling off his arm, the searing heat, the lines of black that could burn through everything and everyone he had ever loved. He didn’t want to be like this, he was supposed to be getting better, he didn’t know how Lance could stand to keep coming clo—
“Pooooooooooooooooooooooow!” Teased Lance, lightly shoving Kuron back a few steps until his feet tripped outside the arena line.
Lance laughed, punching Kuron’s arm and cocking an eyebrow with that irresistible grin blooming all the way up to his eyes. Kuron blinked.
“See?” Said Lance, snagging Kuron’s burning hand and holding it up to the white light that always glinted so harshly off the Galran metal. “No threat.”
Kuron didn’t dare breathe as he stared at the cruel metal.
How was there no purple glow? No crisp burning sensation he had become so used to, that could sear through enemies and allies alike, the one he had once turned on Lance during their sparring? The one that had turned his friend’s eyes bright with fear? That proved, no matter how many times he had considered it, that he was too much a threat for these kids to be around? Where had it gone?
“Kuron,” called Lance, enunciating clearly as his diplomat’s do-what-I-say-or-god-help-me-I-will-cover-your-room-in-glitter-for-the-next-week tone sprinkled over his words. “Look, I know it sucks that you don’t know how much of your actions were Haggar’s will or your own, but you’ve proven one thing to us time and time again.”
Lance uncurled Kuron’s hand, his fingers splayed over the clone’s as he slid something cold inside. He wrapped Kuron’s cool, metallic fingers over the glasses Pidge had sneakily reported their friend needing, and flashed him that soft, honest grin that Kuron had never believed he deserved. “The desire to hurt us? That was never yours,” promised Lance, smirking as he jerked his head towards the arena as if to deflect from the tension unwinding from his shoulders, “because, if it was, you’d have gone glowy-murder-death-arm on me, and I’d be missing a few inches of flawless skin right around now.”
Lance notched a finger gun below his chin, sparkles flooding the air around him and his grin taking on that cocky charm that had once resulted in a chorus of groans from the team. Now, though, Kuron couldn’t do anything but stare at the Black Paladin with eyes blown wider than Kerberos. How could Lance even try to make him feel better when all that Kuron had done was hurt him? And how could he always be so right about this quiznakery when Kuron hadn’t even told him?
Lance snickered, patting Kuron’s back and sneaking his other hand behind Kuron’s head.
“Ruffle attack!” Screeched Lance gleefully, totalling Kuron’s hair in under a minute while he let out a shriek that Lance returned with a glimmering peal of laughter. “Anyway, you’re always welcome back here. And if you ever need a meal, my mom has a banquet menu already prepared for whenever I bring friends over, soooooooooooo…”
Kuron gulped, peeking out from underneath his destroyed fringe as Lance gave him that sunshine grin he couldn’t help but treasure. Friends.
“Yeah. Um, in that case, next time, I’ll stop by. I have to pay my respects to your mother, after all.”
Lance cheered, arms pumping up in the air and nearly lifting him off his feet, and Kuron didn’t try to restrain the smile engulfing his face. Maybe he hadn’t actually blown this as badly as he thought.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Lance spun, nearly twirling off his face before his Altean marks lit up like fireworks and he leapt off the arena into his boyfriend’s open arms.
“Keith!” Lance shrieked in lieu of a greeting, peppering kisses on his boyfriend’s cheeks.
Keith squirmed, his ears lighting up a ruby red that would have put his old jacket to shame, and Lance cooed before booping his nose.
“Laaaaance,” whined Keith, lowering his boyfriend to the ground before pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s cheek. “It’s five in the morning!”
“It’s always affection time!” Replied Lance, giggling as Keith buried his face in his boyfriend’s neck and mrmphed out a reply. “How long have you been standing here, Samurai?”
“Too long,” grumbled Keith, nuzzling further in to hide his yawn. “Pidge brought me along when she decided to go over coordinates with Prince Legolas again, so I thought I’d train for a bit. Now I just want sleep.”
Lance let out a quiet, lulling laugh, scooping Keith up in his arms and pressing his lips to Keith’s forehead with a tenderness that made Kuron’s heart ache. He flexed his fingers, biting his lip. He felt he could almost feel Curtis’ hand sliding into his again.
“Hey, Kuron,” called Lance softly, his fingers carding through Keith’s hair with a slow rhythm and his eyes rising to meet Kuron’s. “You should probably get ready to head off. Everyone’s waiting.”
Kuron blinked, and Lance’s lips gave a wavering quirk. “Yeah, that’s right. We all wanted to say goodbye, buddy. We’re going to miss you.”
Kuron gulped, the lump in his throat nearly strangling him, as if a missing piece of his heart had finally come home and was just waiting for him to fully accept it. As if he just had to give himself permission to be happy again.
“Well then,” whispered Kuron, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as his grin outshone the sunrise just beyond the windows of his last day on Earth. “I can’t keep my friends waiting, now can I?”
Lance grinned, nudging him with his shoulder and raising his chin high.
“Nope!” He chirped.
Kuron didn’t want to say goodbye to them just yet, but……
“Hey, Lance?”
Lance’s gaze flitted over, an eyebrow arching, and Kuron’s teeth dug into his lip. “Please tell Keith that…that I said he should be more honest when he needs something.”
Lance’s eyebrow drew itself impossibly higher, but Kuron just shook his head. “Tell him that for me.”
Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to say see you soon to the ones he loved and who had given him a second chance, a chance to finally be himself, to decide who he wanted to be.
So, turning to Lance, to the one who had forgiven him for the most, the one who had stood by him the longest, the one he enveloped in a hug and pressed his forehead against, he finally let himself breathe.
“I’ll see you soon, Lance?”
Because he wasn’t just Shiro’s clone anymore. He was Kuron. And, paladin or not, he was a proud member of Voltron. Lance tapped his forehead to Kuron’s, blue eyes shining warmly and, for the first time since Kuron had stepped aboard the Castle of Lions, the smile they shared was light, free, and truly happy.
“See you soon, Kuron.”
Pidge jumped into Keith’s arms the tick she was in the hangar, the two squeezing each other tightly and Pidge’s legs locking around Keith’s stomach. She buried her face into his shoulder, his mullet tickling her nose, and grinned. Lance was spinning Matt around while Allura cackled and Shiro screeched at his best friend’s liftoff. But Matt’s smile, so elusive and teasing, told Pidge all she had to know about Lance’s hidden words within the tornado of her older brothers. Although, it might also just be because Adam was sneaking up behind Lance and preparing to lift the paladin off the ground as well. Hunk was sprinting towards Pidge and Keith, whooping at the chance for a group hug, and Coran was barely a few steps behind him. Pidge giggled, pressing her face impossibly further into Keith’s crinkly and warm Garrison uniform.
“Kick butt down here on Earth,” she whispered. “I promise I’ll come back in time to go with you. So you’d better be here when I come back, preferably with that mess tied back in a ponytail!”
“Why are you all so obsessed with my hair?!”
Pidge cackled, and Hunk plowed into the two of them. He wrapped them tightly in his arms, tugging them off the ground and twirling them around.
“I love you guys!” He squealed, tears already bursting at the corners of his eyes. “Pidge, you’d better come back soon! Who else will I talk tech with?!”
“Yeah, I need my ally in pillow wars against Lance,” teased Keith, ruffling her hair.
“Indeed, you shall be greatly missed, Number Five!” Cried Coran, leaping onto the hug twister and joining in, one hand cradling the back of her head gently. “Do come home quickly!”
“Oof! I intend on it, I intend on it!” Squawked Pidge as Hunk’s spinning began to wobble precariously. “I swear, if you guys drop me—!”
“I gotcha, sis!” Crowed Matt, launching himself onto the spinning death pile with a smirk.
Pidge shrieked, and Allura snickered as she caught Hunk effortlessly, gathering them all in her arms like they were the most precious things in the universe to her. And, Pidge couldn’t help but reflect as she remembered the fierce glare at those closed hangar doors so many phoebs ago, maybe there was a reason for that.
She found Allura’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
Shiro surrounded them with a tight hug, Adam’s arms barely a tick later, and Lance catapulted on top of the group to capture Pidge and Keith in a tight hug, tears pricking the edges of his eyes.
“Come back with tons of stories, Pidgey!” He squealed, grinning and bopping her nose. “I can’t wait to swap adventures!”
Pidge laughed, full-on, and knocked her forehead gently against Lance’s while tightening her hold on her family. Soon, she would let them go. Not because she trusted the universe to take care of them while she was gone, but because she trusted her family to protect each other. She trusted them to be here when she came back.
But, just for that moment, she let herself drown in her family’s love, their warmth giving her air and their touches securing her to their shore. And, with a long breath and a single tear trailing down her cheek, she held on with all she had. She didn’t have to let go yet. Not just yet.
So she would hold her family close as long as she could, love them unconditionally no matter the distance, and come racing back to them. She would always come back to their arms.
Pidge blew out a long breath. And, yes, Katie wanted to stay here forever; she wanted to cling to them and beg them not to let her go, to stay beside her, to stay safe.
But Pidge, with the new outfit Lance had secretly made for her during the last movement draped over her shoulder and the gloves Keith had bought her to prevent fingerprints clenched in her hands?
Pidge was ready to go be great.