Word Count: 1,752
It's been three days.
Three damn days since they've been captured.
Three days since they've had any food or water.
And three days of complete and utter silence.
"Do you think they'll ever come in here?"
Well- silence from the Galra at least, Keith, and Shiro, on the other hand, have been trying to fill the silence with anything and everything they could think of (it was unnerving otherwise, when they could hear nothing but their own breaths echoing through the cell), but that's a hard thing to do when their enemies haven't so much as set foot into their little room of complete and utter hell.
For three whole days.
Keith could feel his shoulders shrug almost robotically at this point, too tired to think much of a reply to Shiro's question, "Who knows? I bet, they're just waiting for us to let our guard down."
Shiro nodded, his eyes looking about as lost as Keith felt, "Probably." He sat back against the wall, wrists hanging loosely off his knees, head hitting the metal wall behind him, metal fingers going back to drumming useless rhythms into his palm.
Keith sighed, repositioning himself into a slightly more comfortable position with a barely-heard remark of how cold it was, leaning his head back against the wall until he saw the ceiling.
Nothing up there has changed much either.
"Do you think anyone's even looking for us?"
He caught Shiro's shrug out the corner of his eye as he voiced the question. Keith knew he probably repeated that one more often than any of the other questions he could think of to say, but, it was the heaviest thing weighing on his mind at the moment.
They should be here by now.
Now, don't get Keith wrong, he wasn't the complaining type, not even close.
He just- worries sometimes.
Especially when Voltron has two paladins missing and being held captive by the Galra.
That was a perfectly good reason to come and find them.
"I'm sure they're doing everything they can," Shiro's voice was deep as it echoed through the room, and Keith once again squirmed to better adjust his sitting position by the wall.
What else could he do anyway?
The first day of their capture, all either of them could think about was hoping and praying the Galra didn't come opening that door to drag them away to a torturous interrogation, or even worse, thrown into the arena.
Day two consisted of the same worry, but it was dulled as they decided to play catch-up, trying to see if the other had anything new in their life, or something they wanted to talk about (it wasn't much besides Shiro's new hatred for Altean movies "seriously, what kind of a plotline even was that?).
And day three-
Well, they'd exhausted everything they could think of saying the day before. There was still no telltale signs of the possibility of a Galra soldier opening the door, Shiro was doubtful from day one they'd be getting any food, and besides the repeated question of how long it's been and whether or not anyone was looking for them, they didn't really have anything else to say to each other.
So they just sat there.
In silence.
Hoping, one way or another, something would happen.
An explosion, a rescue, an interrogation, anything.
"If they do come today, what do you think will happen?"
Shiro shrugged again, his eyes vacant, "I don't know, they'll probably try to see what we know."
A long pause as Keith thought about it, then- "Which one of us do you think they'll pick first?"
He watched as the man stiffened for a moment, eyes widening as he looked to the closed door in front of him, "I- I hope it's me."
Keith's thoughts faltered for a moment, as he turned to look at Shiro, "Shiro no-"
"Look, I've been here before, they'll know how to break me, you might still have a chance to make it out of here-"
"A chance?" Keith echoed, "Shiro, do you even hear yourself? That's not going to happen, they're not going to pick you first, if they know anything about how to break you, they'd pick me-"
"Keith, no-"
"Yes, Shiro," the man looked up at him then, a tired look hidden beneath his gaze, and Keith took a breath before continuing, "Look, I know you don't want it to happen, but I know they'll want me first, they'll break you by breaking me, don't you get it?"
He watched the black paladin give a nervous swallow before looking back at his hands, "Let's- let's not talk about this anymore, okay?"
Keith gave a dejected sigh then, before giving a soft nod, moving instead to play with the frayed hem of his purple prison top in silence, squeezing his lips together in an attempt to keep himself from blurting anything else that might make Shiro more frazzled than he already was.
The last thing Keith needed was Shiro losing himself to the plain and clear fact he was once again a prisoner on a Galra ship.
It'd probably be better if Keith kept quiet from now on.
At least until something happened.
...
Add two more days to their current three, and Keith was starting to get antsy.
And hungry.
Oh, and thirsty.
Shiro was starting to get nightmares the longer they stayed in silence, there were more than a few times during the rare hours he'd sleep he'd wake up to the man thrashing, eyes pinched shut, breaths coming in short gasps as he fought off some enemy hidden in his head.
And, despite all that, their captors still haven't made a move.
After picking a little more around their cell on the fourth day, Keith noticed a tiny camera hidden in the shadows near the ceiling on the far wall of the room. The lense was dull so it wouldn't glint in the light and become invisible to prying eyes, but as soon as Keith noticed it was there, he couldn't take his eyes much anywhere else.
They were watching them.
They were watching them talk, starve, slowly die inside, everything.
And still nothing.
Keith would be more than glad at this point if that damn door opened just for one of them to be taken away and tortured for absolutely no reason.
He'd be grateful if something like that happened.
It was so quiet otherwise.
Keith was starting to really hate the silence.
He shifted his position.
His butt was growing numb again.
He hated this floor.
The last two days of their five-day wait, Shiro had taken it upon himself to start pacing the cell in worry, hands itching to grab something as he walked from one side of the room to the other.
Back and forth.
Forth and back.
Keith knew the black paladin was doing his best to keep his cool, but if Keith was being honest with both himself and Shiro, he was pretty sure they were both unraveling just a little by this point.
It was just so quiet.
Keith concluded he'd hate the quiet for the rest of his life.
Now he understood why Lance talked constantly at least.
Silence was lonely-
His eardrums screamed as something sounded outside.
Shiro froze midstep.
Keith clenched his fists, straining to listen to the first noise they've heard from the outside since their capture, too afraid if he breathed hard enough it would disappear.
With a loud clang, the door was opened, whirring up into the ceiling, making Keith's stomach sink in dread at what was waiting for them on the other side.
Zarkon's witch.
"Your time is up."
That voice must've been Shiro's trigger, because he was suddenly falling back to get away from the scene in front of him, scooting back till his back hit the wall, eyes blown wide, breathing too hard as he stared at her, "You-"
The two druids who had been standing behind the witch when the door opened moved towards them and Keith moved to push himself further against the wall as he shouted, "Take me, whatever it is, take me, leave Shiro alone, please!"
He wasn't sure if that had been the plan all along, but they moved towards him anyway, one bending down to secure cuffs to his wrists and ankles before straightening up again, then proceeding to drag Keith out of the room by his hands as Shiro shouted from his corner of the cell, limbs jerking as if he was being held in place by some invisible force.
His friend, his brother was being dug away from him, and there was nothing Shiro could do, "No! Leave Keith alone, he's just a kid, he won't survive, take me instead, please!"
Keith didn't bother to say a word as the druids stopped once he was outside the room, he could only be grateful they weren't going to get Shiro, he'd gladly take on whatever that witch has cooked up for him as long as Shiro wasn't hurt.
"Your time will come, Champion-" he watched as Shiro flinched at the name "-but only one of you may enter the arena at a time."
Dread coiled in Keith's stomach like a snake as his mouthed "What?"
Shiro's brown eyes widened in horror, "No. No, you can't do this-"
"But I can," the witch interrupted with a cackle, "and what fun it will be to see your friend slaughtered by the merciless hands of my monsters."
"No, please, let me take his place!"
The witch ignored his pleas, and instead, the doors began to close with a hiss as Shiro continued to shout his name from the other side.
Keith didn't say anything as they moved, his wrists began to hurt as the druids walked down the hall, dragging him behind them as Keith fought to keep his lips closed.
Because he wasn't sure what he'd yell if he opened them.
He was going to the arena.
He was going to die.
The realization hit him like a weight to the chest and Keith squirmed and yelled, trying to tug against the cuffs locking his hands in place as he was drug along the ground to the battleground.
To the slaughterhouse.
"Shiro!"
"Keith!" The black paladin's voice was quiet as they grew further and further away, his ears caught the sound of banging as the man continued to shout his name, nearly bordering on the verge of hysterical the further away they grew.
"Keith!!"