hey there pretty boy (klance)

CHAPTER 13

Keith finds himself wondering, more than once, if maybe all of this is a dream. It certainly seems unreal as he walks down a narrow, unlit hallway with a short girl named Pidge - who also happens to be a god. Then again, having Allura essentially slingshot them across the universe is probably scrambling his brain a little bit. Keith feels like he's not quite there.

Although the place is mostly cast in shadows, there is a weird purple glow that seems to ooze from the walls. It's enough for him to see the outline of Pidge trotting a few steps ahead of him. Keith follows her closely. He has given up trying to wrap his head around the fact that, probably less than twenty minutes ago, they were sitting on his apartment couch.

Ahead of them lies an intersection in the dark hallway. Pidge pauses as a figure comes around the corner, raising her weapon in preparation. It's a strange, almost snake-like grappling hook that glows with green electricity and retracts into a triangular blade. Keith doesn't understand it. He just knows that he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of it's bite.

She lowers it as Allura reveals herself, her waves of hair somehow tucked into a neat bun at the back of her head. Holding a tall staff in one hand, eyes glimmering, just the sight of the goddess sends shivers up Keith's spine.

"Here," she hisses, gesturing her staff in the direction she had come from. "There is something you must see."

The three of them creep towards a large, arched doorway. Keith's eyes jump around as he tries to make sense of the muddled shadows that move about the room on the other side. There is a table in the middle, a body lying on their back that catches Keith's attention.

Shiro.

"Allura," he whispers. She nods.

An understanding flows between the two gods beside Keith. They burst forward in unison, Allura drawing herself up with an assertive, "druids."

The shapes uncurl to face them, turning into thin, wispy creatures resembling the human body. A black cloak smothers their body, a hooked mask protruding from it's depths where there should have been a face. One gives a low growl and raises a hand curled like talons as it charges Allura. Their first strikes intercept in jerky tendrils of lightning, sparking and hissing as they dance around each other.

While Allura fights, Pidge chooses her own battles, targeting other shadows as they fade and reappear. They are fast, but she is faster, anticipating where to aim. Her weapon crackles with each enemy that it takes down.

Keith bolts for the table, ducking under a stray coil of the druids' purple light. His brother's eyes are closed, but his chest is moving, so Keith focuses on the metal cuffs that hold Shiro's limbs in place. He reaches out to the first one when he freezes suddenly. His arm. It's gone.

In it's place is a silver and black prosthetic, so seamless and perfectly shaped that it seems like just another natural extension of his body, except it is cold, smooth like metal under Keith's fingertips. His eyes move to Shiro's face, mouth opening in a silent oh as he sees a bloodied mark across the bridge of his brother's nose, and the white tuft of hair hanging limply over his forehead.

What have they done to you?

Shiro grunts, head rolling to the side. He's starting to come around. Keith almost wants him to stay out, to keep him from witnessing whatever is about to happen. It's already too late, however, as Shiro coughs, "Keith?"

He reaches out and touches his brother's arm - the real one - with care, wanting to say everything at once.

"Out of the way!" He's startled aside by the demand from Pidge, who raises her blade and cleanly hacks away at the cuffs until Shiro is freed. Keith looks around to see Allura straightening up, brushing herself off and stepping over a slumped body at her feet. Helping Pidge haul Shiro to his feet is her familiar duplicate.

"Howdy, Keith," Matt says without cheer, pulling one of Shiro's arms over his shoulders. He, like Shiro, is dressed in a tight black outfit with a loose, shapeless shirt over his upper body.

His brother winces, shoulders curling in with pain. Keith quickly takes his other side to help support him. "We're going to get out of here," he assures Shiro.

"Not yet. We need to find Lance," Pidge reminds him. Shiro isn't the only one that he came here to help.

The smallest of the gods sneaks ahead while the others are slowed down slightly by the half-conscious man they're lugging behind them. Shiro's feet drag weakly on the ground as he tries to find his balance. Keith hates the way that Shiro's head hangs laden with exhaustion, skin pale and grey in comparison to the scarlet blood rolling down his face like tears.

They catch up to Pidge, finding her crouched at a corner while she watches the scene in grim silence. Matt helps Keith sit his brother up against the wall, before they both creep up behind Pidge. She jerks her chin towards a room almost as impressive as Allura's castle.

It's not the decor that Keith focuses on, though. A lithe form with sharp golden eyes stalks across the room. He twirls a long, slender blade in one hand, face alight with something like sick amusement. Watching makes Keith choke on unexplained panic that suddenly blooms in his chest, but he can't look away. He feels a hand gripping his shoulder and glances up to see Allura with a scowl on her lips and fire in her eyes.

She isn't looking at Lotor. Keith follows her gaze to the other side of the room, a scrawny figure laying on their side. His breath catches in his throat. Are they too late?

Lance struggles to right himself, propping himself up on his hands, but it looks as though his body won't cooperate.

Before Lotor can reach him on the ground, however, he is interrupted by what Keith recognizes to be another druid, only instead of a mask the witch-like lady glares with yellow eyes, a pointed nose and chin. Her glowing gaze feels like it lands directly on Keith. He is swept up as the gods around him stand to fight, weapons poised at their sides when they realize they are no longer hidden. Allura's fingers curl around her staff.

He has nothing to defend himself, but he squares his shoulders anyways.

Lance is sitting up now. He stares at the group, his face a mess of emotions that can't be interpreted, though there is no need for understanding as his mouth moves to form Keith's name.