It’s funny, because the first four parts of this fanfic would fit very well into this section of the show, the big time-skip between Shiro returning and the whole Season 4 stuff. I think they said it was like a year? That’s plenty of time for the Black Lion to be damaged in a random combat engagement and Shiro to crash-land on a little green planet and return a few months later to liberate it, that’s what they’re doing in general in S4. But I had already written it with the intention that Shiro met Elslince some time in the first two seasons, so I’m not changing it now. : P
Callback to Part 3 in the first section of this chapter. XD (I haven’t actually seen Thundercats lol.)
Chapter 7: Deterioration
He shut the door to their room behind him and heaved a massive sigh. “That was stupid. It’s all stupid. Why are we actually doing this.”
He felt the door open behind him and took a step forward to allow Elslince to enter, turning to face her. The smile in her starry blue eyes was bright tonight. “Shiro the Hero, hmm?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he said, embracing her. Her arms slipped around his neck as he pressed his forehead to hers. She giggled, and he wondered when the last time had been that he’d heard such a light, beautiful, care-free sound. It made him smile widely in response, and he couldn’t remember consciously the last time he’d done that, either. She was so pure and he loved her.
“You’ve always been my hero,” she said softly, kissing him. And it was a good thing she did, because he wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was a bit embarrassing, and for far different – and better – reasons than ‘acting’ as himself in Coran’s silly stage shows.
Now he was curious. “Do… you… actually like the show?” he asked.
She shrugged a little, laughing. “It was embarrassing at first, but as they get better, I like it more. Though I would enjoy it even more if I didn’t know what the reality was. Still, I don’t think it’s the worst thing… except for how he’s treating Hunk. Lance is the goof, not Hunk.”
“Mm.” Well, if she liked it even a little bit, he guessed he could put up with it for a little longer. Just a little. Just to see that smile some more.
“And I can’t believe that Coran found a shirt tighter than the ones you already wear, but I do appreciate it.”
“Oh geez.” He blushed, and she blushed, and there was more giggling and embarrassed coughing. Time to change the subject. “Oh! I almost forgot.” A perk of having… fans. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a card in a clear plastic envelope. “Someone gave this to me and I figured you’d appreciate it more.”
“What is- Oh! Shiro! Thank you!” Her face lit up again, in a different way this time. “Oh my trees, a real Ultraviolet Holographic Bengali card! These are extremely rare, he wasn’t a big character in the books, but he had hardly anything in the show.” It seemed ‘the book was better than the show’ was a universal concept, and it amused him. Although Elslince hadn’t even seen the show until she joined the Castle of Lions, before that she’d only read the books. Apparently the show was the humans’ idea alone. “And someone just gave it to you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. It’s really ultraviolet?”
“Oh, yes. I can’t see it under normal circumstances, and I suppose neither can you, but…” She hopped to her doctor’s tools and pulled out an ultraviolet light, and the card lit up in glittering colours.
“Neat,” he said.
“Shiro! I love you!” She was giggling madly, and he chuckled – she was so adorable.
“Glad you like it.”
He was so tired these days, coming straight in from missions or strategic planning meetings, eating, showering, and passing out on their bed. It was terrifying for him at first, how the peoples of the free universe looked to him as Voltron’s leader to lead all of them from Galra domination, along with Allura, of course, who must have felt pretty similar in the early days, though they didn’t speak about it. And as he became accustomed to the responsibility, gained experience as a commander, the fear faded into pressure. “Patience yields focus,” he quoted to himself a lot.
Some days he barely had the time to speak to Elslince, and some days he just didn’t have the energy. And he’d thought being a rockstar was tiring. No, actually he’d always known being a soldier would be one of the most exhausting things he could set himself to, and he’d done it anyway. He’d just felt it was his responsibility to put his life on the line to protect others.
And even in all his exhaustion, he still had nightmares. He woke too frequently cradled in Elslince’s arms, heart pounding from unknown fear, his mind buzzing with yellow glowing eyes and dry hissing whispers that faded even as he tried to grasp them, to quantify them.
“I wish I had something to help you,” she said some nights. “You get little enough sleep as it is. You don’t need this in your life. It’s not fair.”
“Tell me about it,” he said. “The last time I tried sleeping drugs, I had nightmares anyway. And you couldn’t even wake me up then.”
She held him closer and he relaxed against her sweet-smelling bosom.
Then one night, struggling to get away from… something… his dream-body moving sluggishly, as if trapped in quicksand… he heard a shriek that cut through his mind, snapping him out of sleep and into fearful waking. “E-El?”
And as he focused, he realized the light was not as dim as it should have been – everything was lit with a white-purple glow. His hand was weaponized, raised to strike, and a charred line was carved into the wall. Elslince cowered away from him on the other side of the bed, starry eyes huge and round in the light of his hand, arms raised in futile self-defense. “Oh, god, El, I-” He pulled power out of his hand and shrank away from her himself, feeling sick. “I’m so sorry. Oh god, oh god.”
“Shiro?” Her voice was a tremulous whisper. “It was a nightmare?”
“Yes. But I… I never fought in my nightmares before.” He curled up and pressed his face into his knees, shaking. “I-I almost-”
“You didn’t,” she said, sitting up, though she didn’t come any closer to him, and he was glad for it. He couldn’t gloss over it, though – if Elslince hadn’t felt him move, or however she was woken, and screamed, she would be dead, and he would have killed her.
“I hate it,” he burst out savagely. “I never wanted it, and I can’t get rid of it, and it’s been of use but nothing that I couldn’t have managed with an ordinary prosthetic and an energy blade.” He hated it, and he feared it, and he wasn’t truly in control of it.
“Shiro.” He felt a slim hand on his back and tensed.
“Maybe I should sleep in a different room,” he said miserably.
The hand on his back lay still. “Do you want to?”
“No. But I’m not risking your life.”
“All right.” She leaned against him, wrapping her arms and hair around him, kissed the side of his face. “You know where I am if you need me.”
He needed her so much, and it would be horribly lonely at night without her, but he had to be stern with himself. Even though he felt very small, and young, and helpless. Some leader he was.
“Shiro,” she said, and he turned his head towards her. “It doesn’t matter. I love you. You are loved. We will always love you.”
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Allura asked her to give Prince Lotor a medical exam, and so she went down to the containment chamber they’d placed him in with her bag. Shiro let her in to the transparent enclosure and then went to stand guard over by the outer door, frowning suspiciously at the Prince the whole time.
She went about her business silently, except for instructions: “Look over here, please” or “breathe in, please” for example. One of the most important things she’d been taught in the Teleran Resistance was never to speak to the enemy, not to say a single word that could be used against her or her friends. And Prince Lotor had a reputation for cunning and cleverness that had spread even to her little planet. She guessed she would be no match for him, so she guarded her tongue closely. And, she had to admit, she was a little afraid of him – tall, beautiful, apparently perfectly content to be a prisoner in the Castle of Lions. He was renowned as a warrior; even with Shiro in the room, he might hurt her or even kill her before Shiro could intervene. He wouldn’t do that, would he? He had come claiming a wish of alliance. She assumed she was safe for the time being and tried not to let her heart beat too fast.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said to her, his voice melodious and measured, probably reading her body language despite her best efforts. “You understand that, yes?”
“I wouldn’t be in here if I thought you would hurt me, Your Highness,” she answered shortly.
“You may call me Lotor. I can tell you fear me, but there is nothing to be afraid of. I only wish to be your…”
“Friend?” She shot him a slight side-eye and received a mild, charming smile in return. She didn’t trust that smile one bit. She was distracted, though, by the fact that both his shoulders appeared to be sore. What had he been doing? “I will judge you by your actions, Your Highnesss. Lift your arm, please.”
He moved obediently, wincing slightly. That confirmed it. Possible dislocation, though he also appeared to be double-jointed, which would mitigate somewhat. “Small chance of my being able to act any time soon in here, but I will do my best to please, of course.”
“I will follow the Black Paladin’s lead.”
“Even if he makes a mistake?”
Don’t say anything, her former master scolded her harshly in her head. You’ve said too much already. And she probably had, though she tried not to panic by reminding herself that he would have observed everything she’d said sooner or later. But she didn’t want to fall under his spell, become a tool he could use to pry himself further into their good graces. He would have to do it under his own merits.
“I appreciate your kindness,” he said after a minute. “I know the Galra would not send a doctor to a prisoner, even one claiming peaceful intentions-”
“Especially one claiming peaceful intentions,” she muttered, thinking of what Matt had told them of his and his father’s and Shiro’s capture.
Lotor looked vaguely surprised, but continued. “Certainly not one so skilled.” Flattery. “May I ask why you are so kind to me?”
She oughtn’t to say anything. But it would be rude to say nothing. What was the least meaningful answer she could give? “The Galra Empire has hurt us all deeply. It reminds us not to hurt others deeply unless there is a reason for it.” Her sister was dead. Shiro was scarred for life, inside and out. So even though she feared and distrusted the Prince, she would treat him well while he might prevent others from following in their wake.
“The Galra Empire, hmm?” Lavender-yellow eyes considered her, and she felt for an instant like a specimen under a microscope, though the look on his face was not harsh, only thoughtful. And then it was gone. Perhaps it was her imagination. Still, her words had had some meaning, come to think of it – she had not said ‘your people’ or ‘the Galra’ or even ‘you’. Of course he would pick up on that. “Thank you for your time.”
She dropped a bottle of painkillers gracelessly on her vacated seat and hurried to leave the enclosure. Shiro came to let her out and she walked out without looking back, as proudly as she could.
“Shiro, are you… feeling all right?” Elslince walked up to where he hunched at his station, alone, on the bridge. She had her kit with her and he wondered why.
He blinked up at her. “Yes? I’m fine. What’s the matter?”
She was frowning, and it made him uneasy. Elslince never frowned at him. “That… wasn’t like you, earlier today.”
Right. That. When the team had been stubbornly against him, even though he knew the best course of action to take. “They weren’t listening,” he protested.
“They were listening, but you overrode them. I’ve never heard you pull rank before, Shiro. And I know, there’s little or no room for debate in these decisions, but this isn’t how our team works, either, to be fractured like that.”
He frowned back at her. “Okay, so?”
She seemed taken aback by his defensiveness. “So why did you do that? What’s going on? Can I help with anything?”
“No, I’m fine.” He looked away. “I guess… it’s just the stress getting to me, maybe.”
“Could I take a look?” She began to reach for him, and he slapped her hand away with a stubborn glare.
“No, I said I’m fine.” Bad move, he knew it as soon as he closed his mouth. She was staring at him with a mixture of hurt and anger, starry blue eyes wide, holding her hand like he’d burned her, hair flinching away from him.
Guilt and shame blossomed in him like a mushroom cloud. “I-I’m sorry. Go ahead.” She began wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm, her actions slightly less smooth than usual, her attitude icily professional. “I… I really think it’s stress. All these politics and everything, it’s a whole different world than fighting, even than strategy. It’s a murky fog of uncertainty and…” All his babbling just sounded like excuses, and when he glanced over at her, her expression hadn’t changed. “You’re angry.” And she had every right to be.
“No,” she said slowly. “But I am upset. I don’t deserve that treatment from you, Shiro. And neither does the team.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I won’t do it again.”
She packed up her bag, apparently done. “I didn’t find anything that disproves your theory, so… take an actual break every now and then. Go punch things on the training deck. And… for the love of the Mother Tree, find some other solution when you disagree with your friends.” She turned and walked out, still looking angry, and he felt even more tired than he’d been before she arrived.