When Stars Align (Shiro x Reader)[Voltron - Legendary Defender]

XII.

Everything is dark. Where are you? You try to move, but it feels lile you're swaddled in a cocoon. The sensation isn't unpleasant, but it sets you on edge. Where are you?

Your memory is hazy. Everything was cold. The air seeped into your bones and made them brittle. And the guards stopped bringing you food, and your stomach grew teeth and tried to tear you apart from the inside out but you wouldn't give in--you wouldn't give in--and then Matt was there, but it wasn't Matt because they took Matt away and then there were other people, other voices and you were so fucking hungry but now you're warm and you can't move and everything is dark. And now there's light.

The healing chamber cracks open and you can feel the restraints that were holding you up slide away as you stumble down from...whatever pod thing you were just in. The first thing you notice is your hands--they're so clean, and there are no cuts or bruises. You look down at yourself and you're wearing some kind of soft, white jumpsuit and your stomach isn't growling and for a second you wonder if you've died. Everything is so bright. There hasn't been this much light in years.

"Lyda?" You jerk your head up, startled by the voice but then so, so indescribably happy because Shiro is standing right in front of you. He's looking at you and he seems so concerned but it's the first time you've seen him without any injuries and your thoughts won't stop racing and your heart won't stop racing and all you can do is run to him as your face crumples and you start to cry. You hug him so, so tightly and he holds you up because you can't stop sobbing because everything is too much.

"Shh," He mumbles into your hair, "It's okay, you're safe. I promise, you're safe." But that only makes you cry harder. You've been bottling up a sea of emotions and now your tears are a tidal wave and Shiro is the only thing keeping you from drowning, just like before. You can't breathe, and then you can.

You cry for what feels like an hour. When your tears finally run dry you're exhausted in every sense of the word--physically, mentally, emotionally. But you feel safe for the first time in years. Shiro is still supporting you, and he's so warm that you think you'll never be cold again. Your eyes start to drift shut, and Shiro must notice because he steps back, keeping his arms circled around you so that you don't fall.

"You need to get some rest." He says, soft, and you shake your head.

"I'm sorry," Your voice feels foreign--too strong, too clear, "I...I don't know why I'm so tired, I just...there's so much to talk about. Where am I? What happened to all those other people? What happened after you escaped? Oh, and there are things I need to tell you. Matt--"

"Shh." Shiro cuts you off, murmuring, "It's okay. I asked for some alone time; I didn't want to bombard you with information or with questions right after you finished healing. We can catch up on everything once you're feeling better. First, you need to sleep."

"I was just asleep!" You protest weakly, not actually putting up much of a fight. Your head is spinning with questions, but for right now you really are exhausted. You were just freed, nearly starved, from a Galran ship where you've been held hostage for the past three years, enduring things you haven't even disclosed to Shiro. Such extreme trauma takes a heavy toll on the body.

"Come on," Shiro breaks your embrace and takes your hand, guiding you towards a door, "There's been a room prepared for you. You can rest while I talk to everyone else, and when you're ready we'll all meet and talk. But for now...you just have to heal."

***

"Okay, wait," Lance begins to speak, drawing the eyes of the other four paladins, Allura, and Coran. The seven of them are sitting on the couches in the lounge outside the training deck, where Shiro has been giving more background about Lyda as she sleeps.

"So, she woke up, cried, and then went back to sleep?" Lance asks, "That was it? That was the big thing you were waiting for in the sick room for, like, thirteen hours?"

Shiro frowns. "She was a prisoner on Zarkon's ship for almost three years, Lance. None of us--not even me--completely know what she went through in that time. I think needing to rest after that is completely understandable."

"Yeah, rest a lot." Lance whines, "This is boring!"

"Um, not saying I agree with Lance," Pidge interjects quickly, "But...how soon do you think we can talk to her? She knew Matt."

"I know," Shiro says gently, "But we need to be patient. For now, we just have to wait again."

***

You wake up with your eyes puffy and sore from crying, but it's hard to be uncomfortable, because the rest of your body feels like it's lying on a cloud. You forgot that beds are supposed to be soft, and it's been years since you've slept with pillows or blankets of any sort. You don't want to get up--you want to go back to sleep--but you know you owe it to Shiro to share what information you have about what happened on Zarkon's ship after he left.

You sit up and stretch, yawning, and look around your room. It's pretty standard--bed, dresser, shelf, some chairs and a small table. But for a second, you feel overwhelmed once more and tears prick your eyes. You can't believe you're actually free.

Before you can collapse into a blubbering mess, again--you cringe as you think about how you sobbed on Shiro--you reign in your emotions. "Okay, Lyda," you whisper, "Get it together. Stay calm." You've had plenty of practice compartmentalizing.

You investigate the dresser, looking for clothes. There's a note, which you scan quickly.

Hello, Lyda. I'm so happy to have you onboard our ship. We can make a space suit for you once you've settled in, but for now I've stored some of my own clothes in your room. I know they might not fit exactly, but I hope they'll do. There's a bathroom right across the hall.
Best,
Princess Allura of Altea

You open the dresser, touched by the kindness of this complete stranger. You're a bit shocked to see that the clothes are all dresses--and fancy ones, at that. They seem way too formal for everyday wear, but you suppose the signature on the note did say the writer was a princess.

After rifling through the clothing, you pick out what seems to be the simplest gown and cautiously head towards your door. You peek into the hall, making sure no one's there, and then hurry into the bathroom. You know you're eventually going to need to talk to people, but right now you just want to avoid them.

The bathroom is heaven. You can't remember the last time you showered, and you almost fall asleep again as the hot water runs over you. It takes all your self control to tear yourself away and get dressed. When you do, you're pleased to find that Allura's clothes fit you well enough--it's not exactly the most flattering thing you've ever worn, but after dressing in what was basically rags for three years, you're not going to complain. There's a shelf next to a mirror where you find a brush. It looks like it belongs to someone else, but you don't see any extras, so you hope whoever it is won't mind sharing with you.

Brushing your hair ruins your good mood from the shower--it's so tangled that it feels like you're just ripping hair out of your scalp. You also haven't had a haircut in three years, so it's getting long; by the time you finish your arms are sore.

When you're finally done getting ready, you pause and look in the mirror. You haven't seen your reflection in a long time, and you feel like you're staring at a stranger. Her hair hangs wet around a face more sunken than you remember it. She isn't malnourished or sick anymore--in fact, her cheeks are lightly flushed. But there are still faint circles under her eyes, and although her skin is clean there are faint scars that weren't there the last time she saw herself. She looks older--not just her body, but something in her eyes. They're flat, guarded, staring from the mirror like they don't quite know if they're allowed to be happy yet.

You sigh. You feel safe, healthy, almost happy for the first time in years, but it's hard to let yourself relax. You feel like you're going to wake up and realize this has all been a dream. Are you ever really going to be able to let go of what happened to you on Zarkon's ship, to move on?

Someone knocks on the bathroom door.