For Better or For Worse
“So…what you’re saying is……they turned Sendak into a lost cat?” Asked Lance, continuing his mad dash through the Garrison’s tunnels as a cackle slipped from his grinning lips. “They turned Sendak into a lost cat! Mraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!”
“Oh my god, Lance, no!”
“But, literally, yes,” managed Adam between snickers as Hunk groaned over the intercom. “Sanda has officially turned Sendak into a lost kitty.”
Because, apparently, Iverson and Sanda had spent half the morning screeching at Adam and Shiro about the great danger Sendak posed (as Shiro quirked an eyebrow at them with his deadpan I-survived-a-war-don’t-@-me expression until they remembered he had faced down Sendak multiple times and finally shut up), and insisted that the Galra landing crew must be a complete secret, especially since they had taken over an old Garrison Headquarters. What, should we refer to them as our lost cats or something? Adam had joked, and Sanda apparently looked at him like he had finally done something right in his life. So, Sendak was now a lost little kitten.
According to Shiro, that was a promotion.
Lance giggled as he flexed his fingers against the familiar tug of his paladin armor, the faint thrums of Black’s purrs vibrating through every bone in his body. His bayard felt like a live fuse under his palm, almost buzzing as his heart took to drumming against his chest and his Altean markings like flashlights in the tunnel. Keith was racing along beside him, inky black armor melting into the low lights, and twin swords already unsheathed as his sharp eyes fixed on his family with that faint, content smile that seemed to settle across his lips so often now. Shiro rolled his bayard between his fingers, helmet drawn low, and shoulder brushing against his brother’s in an attempt to keep himself from dissolving into peals of laughter. Adam was keeping close to the wall as he ran, fiddling with one of his electric arrows and flashing Lance that riotous smirk he always wore before telling off Iverson. They were going to need it.
According to Sanda, the Galaxy Headquarters that Sendak had chosen to turn into his hideout had an underground parking garage that led directly inside if they could find it. Although the newest Galaxy Garrison “most certainly does not have any criminal underground network, Paladin Lance,” it would connect them to that parking garage undetected. But, handling all the new little “modifications” that had definitely been made to the Garrison under its new occupants’ rule? That was up to the Paladins.
Lance saluted with an ultra-serious Voltron expression, and nearly cheered when he pulled a snort out of his brother. If everyone had been devastated when Pidge and Matt left, to also lose Coran and Allura at the same time? It was like the sun had gone out. And dios, Lance felt it too, those were his uncle, brother, and two sisters that he had been forced to say goodbye to, but he couldn’t let everything fall apart again. Everyone was holding themselves together, pushing towards the end of the war effort, but being good paladins didn’t mean they were being good to themselves.
Lance was having none of that. Between his time finalizing battle plans (“Shiro, if you suggest cucumber cannons one more time, I will punt you out of this room!”), answering questions from the Garrison on Pidge and Hunk’s work while his brother was tending to Yellow (“Next time, if you guys don’t want to end up cleaning acidic bubble gum out of the hangar, maybe don’t press the button that says Do Not Touch!”), negotiating with fellow members of the Voltron Coalition (“Klaizap, we appreciate your true Arusian warrior spirit, but could you guys just open up a communication port instead…?”), and keeping his little royals from torching the house (“HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO MELT MICROWAVE-SAFE TUPPERWARE?!”), he had somehow managed to wrangle his space family into movie nights, occasional family dinners, and an almost daily video game tournament. And if he had personally cooked those family dinners, well……who was he kidding, they all knew; they knew him like no one else ever had. After all, it only took two nights before they insisted on adding to the buffet.
Lance blew out a slow breath, sliding his fingers through Keith’s and raising his boyfriend’s fist to his lips without breaking his stride.
“Ready to do some more sharp work, Samurai?” He teased softly, twirling his bayard into a rifle between his fingers and throwing it over his shoulder along with a wink at his boyfriend. “I hear this place has a few stray cats that need rounding up.”
“About as ready as you are, Sharpshooter,” he returned, the faint light of the tunnel’s lights lending a glimmer to his sword that had nothing on the blaze of his indigo eyes. “After all, someone did tell me I have a special connection with cats.”
Adam choked beside Lance, giggles spluttering out along with his attempts to breathe, and Shiro reached over to ruffle his little brother’s hair. Lance threw a hand against his chest, gasping dramatically.
“Hunk was right! Galra Keith is funnier!” He cried, dodging Keith’s swipe at his nose and cackling as his boyfriend continued to try and grab at his head.
Some things never changed, thank Altea. “It’s almost like he’s got a purr-sonality now!”
“Nope, vetoed, denied, booed off the stage,” teased Adam, tossing an imaginary tomato at his little brother.
Lance stuck out his tongue before yanking his helmet back on to protect his hair against Keith’s incessant attacks.
“Awwwww, fine,” he whined, throwing a finger gun at Keith. “Don’t be mad, I was just…kitten around!”
Keith’s eyes glazed over, and Lance giggled, switching the rifle to his blaster without so much as blinking. As much as he wanted to whip out his sword and charge in along with his reckless, idiot boyfriend, he knew he could trust Shiro to handle that for him. He would cover their backs, stand beside Adam, and snipe down anyone who came near his family. He wouldn’t let anyone touch them, not when he had promised Pidge, Allura, and Matt that they would all be waiting for the rest of their space family to come home. Lance knocked his rifle against his shoulder and smirked, a flash of lightning crackling through his eyes as his feet kicked against the ground. No way he would let them down, even if this was the first time in the history of Voltron that their plan hadn’t been reviewed by Allura, even if Lance’s shoulders shook with tightness under his armor, even if he couldn’t protect his friends on the front lines.
It was the first time that solely Lance’s ideas were on the battleground, his orders supporting and guiding his family through the heart of enemy fire, his words as the only thing keeping his family alive. It was the first time Lance would be the one choosing who lived and who died.
“…Then you’ve got to be kitten me,” finally grumbled Keith, the light of the tunnel marbling his blushing cheeks. “If you’re going to be punny, at least give me something hiss-terical.”
Lance short-circuited. Shiro’s jaw came loose, and Adam’s eyes grew wide enough to swallow the sun, Hunk’s smug giggles resonating over the comms. Keith’s lips grew tight. Then Lance threw back his head and laughed, wild and free, louder than thunder and brighter than any star. Shiro nearly bent double, missing a few steps to high-five Adam as the two basically cheered along with Hunk. And, fingers intertwined with Keith’s, all Lance could know was that, good strategy or not, he had chosen the right family, for better or for worse. And that, more than any plan, decided those crucial moments on the battlefield.
“Alright!” He cheered as the dirt slid into metal, locking eyes with each one of them; they had to hit the ground running, after all. “Hunk, get ready to engage, we’ve hit the garage! Okay, everyone, let’s finish this guy off once and for all!”
Shiro flipped his bayard into his hand, a soothing blue glow joining the black flashes lighting up the tunnel. It spread over his fist, metal grooves clinking into place as the sleek, blue gauntlet settled onto his fingers like a second skin. He stretched out the metal, testing the pressure on his left hand, and relishing in the pressure of his fingers digging into the palm. He had always favored his right hand in fighting because most of his opponents would too, but not even decaphoebs of training could take away the strength and precision of his dominant left hand.
“Nice to see you back on your game, Takashi,” teased Adam, his footsteps the only audible ones left in the tunnels, his light touch on Shiro’s shoulder melting the Blue Paladin as the ring clinked softly on his armor. “Hey…keep an eye on Keith in there for me, okay? I just got you two back; if either of you die, I’m going to have Allura bring you back to life just so I can beat you idiots up!”
Shiro snorted, leaning over to press a tender kiss to Adam’s lips. They were so chapped now that Earth was coming into summer, maybe Lance would know where to find that lip balm Adam always needed……
“I don’t think even she can bring people back from the dead,” he teased.
“I wouldn’t put much past an Altean Princess if I were you, Takashi,” replied Adam, but his easy grin had slipped back on, one hand settling on his hip and a faint tilt to his head. “Especially one that’s learning to be an alchemist right now.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing we’re not going to find out,” said Shiro, a laugh weaving its way into his words. “I’ve already lost enough bets with you to last a lifetime!”
Adam snickered, shaking his head and returning the kiss, soft and slow as ever.
“Eh, you already won a lifetime bet,” he murmured. “I was here when you came back, wasn’t I?”
Shiro snorted.
“Hardly,” he teased, squeezing Adam’s hand one final time as Keith moved towards the garage door, just enough that his fiance could feel the ring under paladin armor. “You came and found me.”
And Shiro could still feel the faint pressure of Adam’s fingers on his own as he turned, purple leaking out of his right hand, and punched the hangar door off its hinges.
Lance gave a disbelieving shriek, Adam groaned, and Keith pouted.
“You’re going to make my swords rusty at this rate.”
“Want to race then?”
Lance joined Adam in a chorus of groans, but Keith’s eyes lit up like fireworks, a grin overtaking his face, and twin swords catching the Galaxy Headquarters’ light.
“Oh, you are so on!”
Shiro threw back his head and laughed, shoulders finally rolling free as he charged into the base with his little brother, Lance and Adam slipping down the opposite hallway to take over the control room, and an unbreakable trust keeping each pair of eyes locked forwards. They would protect each other, no matter the cost. So there was nothing to be afraid of.
“Hunk, engage!” Shouted Lance, unloading lasers down the corridor as they turned, and the last thing Shiro saw of the two of them was Adam’s smile.
Keith swallowed harshly.
Shiro pressed a little closer to him. The anniversary of his father’s death was only a week away………
“Keith?”
“It’s okay, Shiro,” promised Keith, grip tight around his swords, and crystalline eyes fixed on the corridor in front of him. “I’m alright.”
Shiro raised an eyebrow, never breaking stride as they tore through the base, the distant echo of laser fire raising hair on the back of their necks. But Keith just flashed him that renegade smile, the purple fang on his cheek curling at the motion, and eyes gleaming as they heard the thunder of Galran sentries coming towards them. “I’ve got you, don’t I?”
Shiro refused to acknowledge the burning in the back of his eyes, the way they widened, the pulse of agony that shot through him as he remembered his vow to stay on Earth when this was all over even though he knew he knew Keith, he knew he would go back to space with everyone else—
“Always,” he swore. “And I’ve got you.”
He shoved Keith to the side as a laser shot between them, flashing his little brother a grin. “As many times as it takes for you to stay alive.”
Keith’s eyes turned sunshine bright, his swords rising as the sentries rounded the corner, and his feet planted to get a good shove for his charge. Then he shot Shiro an overflowing grin, confidence carved into every edge of his stance, and love spilling from his irises like a flood. Like an endless promise.
“Right back at you,” he murmured, slow as if he was tasting each letter, smile growing impossibly wider as he flew at their adversaries. “As many times as it takes!”
Shiro smashed through one of the sentries, shadows of purple dancing behind his every movement as he tore into another one, slicing through the steel like it was nothing more than a straw dummy. He swept one off its feet, snatching the flailing body by its head and slamming it through two of the charging sentries. Keith’s blades flashed like twin lightning bolts, cleaving a robot in half and stabbing straight through another. He ran up the droid, slashing through its chest and leaping off to reign down a flurry of blows on the sentries, leaving a trail of sizzling limbs and crumpled metal in his wake.
Shiro couldn’t remember a time he had felt this alive while fighting. Keith was blitzing the battlefield, a tornado of blades and armored strikes, and that hissing yellow filling up his eyes that Krolia had taught him for so many movements to control. He spun beneath a sentry, skewering it from behind, and meeting Shiro’s eyes for just a tick to flash him that volcanic smile he knew so well. Shiro’s heart felt like it could explode as he punched through a sentry’s face, throwing his battlefield smirk back at his little brother. Keith was a one-man army. He could take care of himself now. He was…for the first time since Shiro had met him, Keith seemed truly, genuinely, okay.
For many people, being a paladin would probably have been a great burden, a painful responsibility that slowly tore up the world each and every one of them had created for themselves. But, Shiro reflected as he smashed a sentry into the wall, maybe that means that the reason the Lions chose us wasn’t because we were the most qualified…
“Shiro!” Screamed Keith, and the Blue Paladin hit the deck before his leader could get another word out.
A laser blazed above him, right where his head would have been, and Keith flung one of his swords at the attacker. Shiro shoved off the ground, and Keith dove after his sword, heedless of the sentries aiming for his back. He didn’t need to worry about them. Shiro smirked, raising his hand for a high-five as he passed his brother, and catching the little smile curving at his lips.
“Tag!”
Shiro cackled, lunging into a one-handed cartwheel down the hallway as the first sentry raised its gun, shifting to aim at Keith.
…Maybe they chose us because they knew that, deep down, we needed to be Paladins just as much as they needed to be Voltron.
Shiro drove an uppercut into the blaster, metal shattering under his bayard’s force, and spun a kick into the sentry’s chest. He tore the metallic head off, slinging it into another droid’s face, and relishing in the ringing screech of Keith’s swords ripping robots apart behind him.
“Keith, Shiro! We made it to the control room!” Called Lance through their comms. “Doors are sealed, and locks have been changed; you can advance further into the base!”
“Copy that!” Replied Keith. “How’s the crowd there?”
“Loud, but not worse than your snores,” teased Lance, drawing an audible snicker from Adam. “Don’t worry about us, Samurai. Just handle that missing kitty for us, okay?”
Keith grinned, cutting down another sentry and driving his sword into a third’s stomach.
“Okay, Sharpshooter.”
Shiro smiled, brushing his glowing fingers along the blue bayard. Lance would never truly know the footsteps he had given Shiro to fill, would he? This was his bayard that Shiro held, touched by Allura, and this was his armor that Shiro had to grow into. And Shiro would never be like Lance, he would never be the Blue Paladin like Lance or Allura had; he was his own Paladin. He always had been.
And, whether he hung up the helmet or not, he would always be a Paladin.
Shiro slashed through the final sentry’s circuitry, spinning to smirk at Keith.
“Ready?”
Keith snickered, snapping his swords free of wires, and cocked his head at Shiro.
“Is that even a question?”
Shiro barked out a laugh and stepped aside, bowing as he gestured towards the door with a teasing formality.
“Well then, fearless leader, press onwards.”
Keith slashed the door open, eyes snapping to a sharp yellow as the rubble fell away, and scar rippling with a faint purple glow.
“If the damsel insists,” he teased, clasping Shiro’s hand and yanking him to his feet. “Let’s tear this sucker apart!”
Shiro pulled Keith away from the lasers tearing down the hall, and raised an eyebrow. “As long as you’re not the sucker, I’m fine with this arrangement.”
“Really, Shiro? Really?”
“Yep!” Replied Shiro, popping the p like Lance had taught him, and relishing in the whoop from Lance through the comms. “Now, let’s go! Whoever beats the most sentries gets to dye the other’s hair!”
“Three-two-GO!”
Shiro cried out in protest as Keith dashed into the room, swords raised and eyes flashing with a fierce golden light he never would have thought would protect him one day instead of torture him. Keith always managed to surprise him.
“Get back here!” Complained Shiro, spearing the nearest sentry with his fist and hurling it into another attacker. “You skipped one!”
“And you’ve skipped eight that I got!” Retorted Keith, laughing as his whirlwind of swords wreaked havoc through the room. “You snooze, you lose!”
Well, apparently these guards had slept far too late then, because Shiro barely needed more than one hit to knock them out of commission. Had they always been this lightweight?
Keith whooped as he leapt off one’s shoulders, cleaving his sword through two’s heads, and dropping to sweep another off its feet. His eyes shone like a cat’s, and Lance’s cheers reverberated through the comms along with the occasional encouragement from Adam between typing, and Shiro smashed two robotic heads together. It hadn’t taken more than five dobashes for the room to be almost clear, Keith’s swords tearing limbs off and Shiro catching them to use as ammunition against other sentries. They tore through the crowds, tossing out numbers back and forth, and Shiro even flung a spare head into one of the sentries Keith was going for.
“Hey! That was going to be my kill!” Complained Keith, pouting as he gutted another sentry.
“As a great, wise man once said: you snooze, you lose.”
Keith stuck out his tongue and decapitated another sentry, distinctly hurling the head as far away from Shiro as he could. Geez, his competitions with Lance had really improved his aim. Shiro spun, cracking a sentry in half with his bayard, and knife-handing another through the back of the neck. It crumpled under the strike, and Keith flung a sword over Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro smirked at him.
“Now who’s stealing kills?”
Keith just smirked, stabbing a robot behind him without glancing over. They were really loud, no way they could sneak up on anyone.
“It’s called repaying the favor.”
Shiro punched a sentry through the chest, spinning and taking out another’s legs, and slammed his bayard into the final attacker’s head. It dropped with a sizzling CLUNK, and Keith embedded his sword in the last straggler’s neck. Jerking it out, he smirked at Shiro.
“Alright, now that we’ve warmed up,” he joked. “Ready to take on Sendak?”
Maybe the sentries were as powerful as ever, still just as strong as when the paladins were just getting used to their bayards……
“Always,” replied Shiro, ruffling Keith’s hair. “Also, forty.”
“Ha! Forty-three! You’re getting dyed as soon as we get back!”
“Oh my god, bright pink, do it for me Keith.”
“No, white! Make him look like the old man he is.”
“You guuuys,” groaned Shiro, even as a smile pulled at his lips.
Maybe the sentries were actually just as strong as they used to be, but the paladins weren’t. They had fought and bit and kicked and screamed their way to strength, to precision, to force and speed. They had become more powerful than any army could hope to be.
“So, the Champion arrives at last,” snarled Sendak as the doors slid open, and Shiro stepped in front of Keith automatically. “I thought you might never show up.”
“More like you wished,” replied Shiro, his bayard flaring up a hissing blue, and his lion’s protective growls flowing through him like a river. “Keith, you clean out the rest of the base; we can’t have anyone interfering.”
With Lance and Adam. The unspoken words rang clearly between the brothers, and Keith’s lips curled back to bare gleaming fangs at Sendak. He snapped a terse nod at Shiro, spinning and dashing for the door.
“Don’t you dare lose!” He shouted over his shoulder, and Shiro slid into his fighting stance, blocking his brother’s retreat and eyes never once leaving Sendak’s.
“No worries. I think I can handle our little missing kitty here.”