VOLTRON ONE-SHOTS

Keith - (Please)Don't Let Go

And, oh, did he break.

It was the tears that drove him to the edge, fat drops of saltwater racing down his cheeks leaving traitorous streaks in their wake. He smothered the sounds racing up his throat as he curled up, knees to his chest in the pilot's seat, Shiro's seat.

The same Shiro who was gone.

A sob escaped, the sound muffled into his hand still clamped firmly over his own mouth.

But his shoulders still shook.

He couldn't get them to stop even if he wanted to.

He knew something had to be wrong with him.

What- what was this? Shock? Exhaustion?

Finally realizing Shiro wasn't just captured somewhere in space but really truly gone?

That he was-

He ground his teeth together to keep the sob in, too scared of his team somehow hearing him and coming to ask what was wrong. Why he was crying.

And then he'd have to explain.

He'd have to say to their faces, to the exact same team that'd been brave enough to continue on when Keith felt it was better to slip away than to press on.

He'd have to tell them that- that Shiro was-

He was-

Keith didn't believe in reincarnation, he didn't believe in ghosts, didn't believe in anything of that nature.

He'd seen too much death in his life to believe such a thing existed.

But here.

Right now.

A part of him hoped Shiro was still with him, somehow still able to come back from where they'd communicated before.

Because Keith wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to say goodbye.

"Keith? Buddy? You there?"

He froze, the voice and knock just outside the cockpit doors making his breath seize in his chest again, shaking fingers curling into fists at the thought of being found like this.

No, no, no, no.

He was back to being the leader now, right?

It was time to start acting like one.

Stifling another sob, Keith fought to pull himself back together before his team came in, pale fingers scrubbing at his face in an attempt to wipe away every evidence to hint that he'd been crying alone, black locks brushing against his fingers once again reminding him of the time gap that now stood between them,

He had to forget about that.

He had to pull himself together.

For the team.

For Shiro.

He- he could(n't) do this.

Before he was able to back himself out of it more than he already was, Keith got to his feet, beating whoever was on the other side, metal sliding back to reveal none other than the red paladin himself.

Alone.

Keith blinked.

Lance looked about as tired as he felt, the Cuban's face drawn and blue eyes downcast as he shifted weight to his other foot, hands shoved deep in his pockets (he must've changed out of his armor when they landed).

His mind whispered the teen was there by choice.

That- that was good at least, right?

"Hey, man," the Cuban's voice was soft, but Keith couldn't miss the hardened tone of balance that'd crept into his words since he'd been gone, the subtle hint of what he'd had to take up since he'd left.