Chapter Text
He’d flown straight into the rift without any hesitation. He’d known when he did so that he was taking a substantial risk. Risking his own life and that of Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid. He’d known he was risking all of their lives, but it hadn’t felt like a risk, not when he’d been so certain that it would work out.
But when he flew the craft through the rift the unthinkable had happened instead – nothing. Nothing at all happened. Nothing happened and then Acxa had betrayed him, along with the rest of his generals. Acxa had stunned him and they bound him while he was out like some common criminal.
This time though, he filled the ship with quintessence and flew into the rift. Instead of passing through to the other side the ship shuddered, encountering a resistance as he tried to fly through the rift. For a second it felt like the ship would be ripped apart - the vibrations were too much for the ship to handle. Then he felt the telltale pull of a wormhole, deep in his bones and always in his teeth. He didn’t need to look around them to know he was making a space jump, but he did nonetheless, watching the portal around him even though he knew it would give him no hint to their destination.
The ship exited the wormhole, completing the jump in mere seconds. It took him a moment to settle, to fight through the post wormhole paralysis he always experienced after a jump. When he opened his eyes it was to a Galra fighter ship directly in front of them. The ship was so close that Lotor could see the way Keith leaned forward, how he drove his body forward with the controls. His eyes were shut, closed tight against the particle barrier he had been planning to fly into, not aware of the interruption to his plans. The fighter continued forward on its course, Keith’s hands steady on the controls regardless of the fact he had closed his eyes. There was nothing Lotor could do, the ship’s controls locked up post jump, and he watched as the fighter flew straight into his own ship, disintegrating on impact.
Then Keith was no more.
The explosion triggered the ship, the residual quintessence reacting to the heat, or the sparks, in a way his ship should never have done. When he’d designed the ships he’d put in safeguards – protection built into the ship so that this should not have been able to happen.
And it was happening anyway.
Keith’s ship was already gone, but he almost felt his own ship ripple before the explosion shot outwards from the point of contact. It rocked him, but he was safe inside the cockpit. Behind him he felt the ship rip apart, and even without looking he knew that his generals were gone. He had a moment to think that at least now they were all reunited in death, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He had always known death was a risk, and they had themselves known the risk – as a Galra soldier, and especially as his generals, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like this .
The explosion didn’t stop though, spreading outwards rapidly. He watched as the explosion took out the rebel ships, took out Voltron, tore through the Galra battlecruiser.
It destroyed everything in its wake. It kept going until Lotor knew with certainty that he was the only living being still remaining in this quadrant.
And it was all his fault.
Lotor was awake instantly. His eyes shot open in the dark room. Despite the dark, he could see just enough to know that it was his room in the Castle of Lions. He could hear his own breathing, loud gasps – and the sound filled the room, the noise loud as he gratefully sucked air into his lungs. Even with the minimal lighting of the Castle, he could make out the ceiling of his room, could see the walls where they met the ceiling – a familiar sight, one he’d observed many nights before. He took a moment to look at the room he could see without yet moving, without even turning his head. It was enough to reassure him he was really here. He was here and not there where his dream had taken him.
Lotor took another moment to brace himself, gripping the sheet in his fingers before he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed the mattress in his fingers, squeezing the material as tight as he could between his fingers. He kept squeezing until it felt like he might break the material until he could hear the squeak of the material protesting under the pressure and above from his fingers.
He released his grip on the mattress and stood, taking a wobbly step away from the bed, his legs still shaking a little from the lingering adrenaline still coursing through his system. Despite the unsteadiness of his legs he forced his legs to keep moving, taking one step then another until he was walking out the door of his room. It was still early, and more than likely everyone would still be asleep, which was probably for the best. Lotor had no desire to run into any of the Castle’s other occupants, but he needed to move. He needed to put some space between himself and that space. His room and the bed which had housed him in that nightmare world. He needed to move until he could no longer feel the way the dream still affected his body, still left him feeling shaken through to his core.
There weren’t many places he could go at night, not when most of the Castle was locked to him without the company of another paladin. Something he so desperately did not want in this moment. Despite this he continued moving anyway, forcing his feet to take one step then another, even if he had no goal in mind.
He’s not sure why the dream affected him so. Not sure what it was which had gotten underneath his skin, that had left him still reeling in its wake. He could still recall the look on Keith’s face. When he closed his eyes it was Keith’s face he saw, his eyes closed and the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
He could still feel the way the ship had shaken as it ripped apart, taking the rest of his generals with it, could still remember seeing the explosion ripped through the other crafts.
Tear through his mother’s cruiser.
The thought made his stomach churn.
His steps carried him through the Castle corridor, and he kept walking as he passed the other Paladins rooms. He allowed his feet to carry him forward one step at a time, focused only on the sound of his steps and trying to ignore all other thoughts running through his mind.
When he walked past the kitchen, the motion activated door slid open, the lights inside activated when the door had sensed his presence. The illuminated kitchen grabbed his attention, dragging his eyes up to look into it and he felt himself come to a stop without a conscious thought to do so.
The kitchen was one of the few rooms he was allowed access to without any other paladins having to be present.
Now that he had stopped to take a moment, he was no longer focused solely on moving. It was only then that he realised he was thirsty, his mouth as dry as one of the deserts on the planet Madethan.
Decision made, he entered the room, walking straight to the supplies unit and grabbing one of the hydration pouches.
He punctured the pouch with the straw bringing it up to his mouth and sucking, relieved when the liquid hit his mouth. As he drank down the liquid he moved to the observation window and cast his gaze out at the starmap that was currently in front of him. They’d moved on from Ibertha, were currently staying away from any major planets, not that it made the view any less beautiful. Usually when he piloted his own ship he didn’t get to appreciate views like this, had never taken the time to look and take it all in. Or maybe that was more to do with the fact he’d never had the time to stop when he was in the Galra army; he’d always needed to be somewhere, do something.
When he finished the pouch he drew it away from his mouth and he squeezed the pouch between his fingers, crumpling it with his force. He hadn’t realised how fast he’d been drinking, the drink over before he’d realised it. Despite having finished the drink and the moisture he could feel in his mouth he still felt thirsty.
Eyes still locked on the planets and the stars visible through the observation window, he lifted his free hand to his hair to run through the strands – a nervous tick he’d pick up, but one he refrained from using unless he was alone. When his fingers came into contact with the strands he felt the dampness there, something he’d not realised before now. He winced at the sweatiness, lifting the hair away from his temple and letting the cool air soothe the skin where it was damp.
He realised as he held up the hair that it wasn’t just his hair that was sweaty. His whole body felt clammy, felt the telltale cling of sweat on his body. It made him feel unclean, and uncomfortable He grimaced as he let the lock of hair fall back down onto his head. Felt the dampness from his hair once more, the feeling of sweat unable to be ignored now that he’d identified it.
He needed a shower.
Mind made up, he deposited the empty juice pouch in the recycle repository. He exited the room, turning left for the communal bathrooms. They each had a bathroom in their own quarters, but the communal ones were larger, and Lotor didn’t feel like going back to his own quarters just yet.
The bathroom required the press of his hand to open the door, the panel flashed green, and the door slid open smoothly, the room already illuminated from the moment he’d requested access. He walked to the furthest shower unit, pulling the curtain aside and stepping into the cubicle and pulling the curtain shut behind him. Methodically he followed the usual process, stripping his sleep clothes and hanging them on the hooks in the cubicle. He pressed the button for water to activate, and hit the increase temp button until he could feel the scalding temperature even without stepping into the water. He stepped under the water stream, and immediately he saw the way his skin flushed from the heat, vaguely recognised the discomfort of the water hitting his skin.
That had been his plan though, and when the heat of the water did become too much to handle any longer, he folded his legs beneath him and dropped to the floor of the shower.
The added distance between his body and the shower head made the water bearable, and he rested his head back against the shower wall. The water washed away the sweat, and when he closed his eyes he imagined that it also washed away the dream. He could imagine he washed away the memory of watching himself fail and take out everyone around him.
He directed his thoughts instead to the knowledge that at least everyone was alive – for now at least. Thought of the planets he’d been looking at from the observation window only minutes before.
He was alive. They were alive. Every drop of water on his skin was a reassurance he was really here. That this was what was real
He let the water take him under, taking away his consciousness and the memory of the dream with it.
He woke to a coldness around him. There was a chill against his skin, and he felt as something soft was placed against him, a blanket, or – probably more likely – a towel. The towel was warm against his skin and he was grateful for it, even as his heart rate spiked at the thought of someone cornering him with a towel, when he was naked no less.
“Hey.” A soft voice said, a warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder, the touch immediately identifiable even through the towel.
He silently drew in a deep breath, before kicking his leg out at the intruder, seeking to make contact with the person standing there. When his leg made contact he wasn’t expecting for it to be captured, fingers wrapping tight just above his ankle and stopping his leg dead. The shock of it forced his eyes open, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his vision.
When his vision did clear he was surprised to see Keith kneeling in front of him.
He looked around at his surroundings – brain lagging from the sleep and failing to recognise the area. He wasn’t in his room, that much was immediately obvious, even before he’d opened his eyes. When he looked up and saw the shower head it finally slipped into place; he was in one of the shower cubicles. He was naked and cold because he had been showering.
It all came rushing back then. The dream. The ship exploding. Everyone had died.
Looking up he found Keith looking down at him, has face pulling in what almost looked like worry. Except that didn’t make any sense. Keith would never worry over him.
“Paladin Keith.” Lotor acknowledged.
“Just Keith is fine.” He answered, his too voice loud in the small shower cubicle. He felt close, too close, crowding in on Lotor in the small space. Lotor felt cornered – was literally cornered and he didn’t even have clothes. He probably looked a mess, could feel the knots of his hair pressing into his skull, hanging heavy and pulling at his skull, and he knew that was going to be a bitch to brush out later. His head hurt, the ache a telltale emotional hangover making itself known. He’s not sure how long he slept in the shower, long enough at least for his back to be aching, muscles complaining from the position he’d fallen asleep in. He still feels tired, a bone deep exhaustion which tells him to just ignore all of that and close his eyes again, let himself fall back into the world of sleep. Although he should probably return to his bed before he lets that happen.
Keith was still looking at him, still watching him. He closed his eyes to the sight. He didn’t want to look at Keith.
“Sorry I woke you, but I was worried when I heard the shower running and no one was answering. You okay?”
“Of course I’m fine.” His voice cracked on the words, which probably didn’t help his case, but he powered on nonetheless. “The bed in my quarters is just so atrocious I had to resort to trying to sleep in the shower. The Princess should be ashamed of such pitiful accommodations.”
Keith’s hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, before it was removed, there’s a ruffling sound, and when Lotor opened his eyes Keith has leaned back on his heels, putting some distance between them. The distance does nothing to dilute Keith’s gaze, the way his attention is still locked on Lotor.
“Well, I guess where ever works for you. At least you got some sleep.” Keith said with a hint of sarcasm. “Would you like some clothes? I can get you some fresh ones.”
Part of him is confused at the offer – he’s not sure why Keith would offer to do that to him. Part of him wants to turn the offer down, to put an end to this strange interaction and Keith’s strange behaviour, he also wants the clothes. The desire for clean and dry clothes win out.
He gave a nod.
Keith returned the nod, standing up easily from his crouched position. He turned and pushed the metallic shower curtain aside just enough for him to slip through, and the curtain fell shut as soon as he passed through.
He heard noises coming from out in the bathroom, the sound of Keith moving around in the room.
He’d been expecting Keith to come back into the cubicle, but instead he sees clothing thrown over the curtain, hanging from the bar. He recognised the clothes, the telltale grey of the Paladin’s training suits. It’s one of the suits the Paladin’s usually wear when they’re doing the training outside of the lions - hand to hand, cooperation drills, and cardiovascular training.
“I’m going to have a shower now,” Keith called out. The words sound like they come from one of the other cubicles. He waited until he heard the water start running before he moves, pushing his legs out straight, flexing the muscles to remind them how they work. Lotor placed his hands down on the shower floor, using them to push up to standing. His legs were unstable again, but he could deal with that. He dried off quickly with the towel, grabbed the suit from where it hung, slipping into it quickly. He exited the room without saying another word to Keith.
He headed straight to his room, thankful not to run into anyone else on his way.
When he entered his room, he went straight to his bed, hopping in and wrapping the sheets around him tight. When was was comfortable, he let the exhaustion take him claim him once again.
Later when he woke and finally exited his bed and room, he found a bowl of food goop and a juice pouch left for him outside his door.
There’s no note, but he’s fairly sure there’s only one person it could have been.
Thankful for the offering, he took the food and pouch and retreated back into his room, happy to postpone having to face the rest of the Castle just yet.