whatsacactus | (no subject)

[The creature... screams as light floods the room, flailing its remaining arms up over its face to protect itself. Shiro, who'd known what Keith was going for and closed his eyes beforehand blinks them back open. The creature is hissing, and blisters are popping up on its skin where the light is touching. Like this, it's less a thing of fang and fury and more--pitiable.

This body was an experiment, and Shiro has been under Haggar's knife. It's still trying to kill them, and they're still going to have to put it down, but-- there's a twinge of kinship there.

His expression hardens, and there is a moment between heartbeats where he wills the bayard back to him. He's only done it once before, but it comes. It energizes into the same sword as before.]

Hit it from the side! We need to take its head off.

[His eyes adjust to the light as he watches the creature in pain from the light. It's less a threat. It was made to be this way, it didn't ask. Someone intentionally chose to make it this way, or made it so it would evolve like this.

It's less about survival now and more about ending it peacefully so it doesn't suffer more.

It's what he thinks anyway.

When he looks back at this fight, he'll be more worried and upset about what he turned into. Less about the situation or the danger, and more what he didn't have control over. He sees the way the creature is lumbering, blind and hurting. Its too-many arms swinging and hitting the wall, hitting the metal tubes and vents above them, how parts of it are coming down. Part of it comes down on his bad shoulder and he bites back the scream of pain, but his eyes are focused, watching it swing for Shiro.

Keith lunges, a near-feral growl out of his mouth as he goes to leap onto its back, ducking under its arms and swinging for the head, fangs bared and eyes yellowed furiously.]

[It comes towards him, and Shiro backs up, tripping over one of the many things that's been knocked over in the fight. He goes down hard, managing to only just keep a grip on the bayard.

When Keith jumps on its back, the weight and its injured leg are enough that the creature lurches forward. Keith is to its left, so as it falls forward onto him Shiro angles the blade to the right, cutting cleanly through its torso under the mess of its right arms.

With whatever Keith has done to its spinal column, the creature is clearly in its death throes, and Shiro exhales. It's heavy, and pinning him down.

Everything about Keith is-- sharp, angular, his eyes are tinted yellow and Shiro is trying hard not to recoil, fighting down every instinct to keep fighting, fight the Galra--

He closes his eyes tightly, willing himself back to the moment.]

Little help?

[He's hyper focused, still jamming his sword in and tilting it, making sure the threat is dead. He's only just barely able to keep his balance as it falls forward. It stops.

He's panting heavily, the pain in his shoulder flaring anew. Shiro though...

He blinks slowly, his more human attributes coming back. He swallows thickly, gets his sword free, and hops down with some trouble and starts pushing the thing off.]

Sorry-- I'm sorry.

[He crawls out from under the creature, his shirt slick with its viscera. It didn't injure him outright, but he's pretty sure his broken ribs aren't going to be on the mend any time soon. He drops the bayard in favour of holding his hand tightly against his side.

Gently,]

You don't have anything to be sorry for.

[Once Shiro's free of it, he lets the corpse drop. Normally he would try not to waste it, but he doesn't know what's in it, what chemicals were used, if it's toxic.

For the moment, he keeps his eyes on it, away from Shiro. He's sweating, can feel his skin tingling with energy.]

Could've made sure it didn't fall on you.

[He shakes his head.]

I was in the way. Besides, it gave me a good angle for the upswing.

[He. Hesitates. Could be pain, could be wariness, but he lets go of his ribs long enough to drop his hand down against Keith's shoulder.]

You okay?

[The hand on his shoulder is heavier than it should be. The adrenaline is leaving him tired, every muscle an open sore.]

Yeah. [Don't mind him if he sounds a little choked up.] Yeah, I'm all right.

[He exhales very gingerly, and drops his hand away from Keith's shoulder. He can hear that element of upset in his voice, and does the only thing he knows how to assuage it: gives him a goal, something to work towards.]

I don't want the other animals eating this, there's a good chance it's toxic. We should burn the corpse. And I want everything in this room catalogued before we go, anything that looks Altean we should bring back to Allura.

[But. Later. The storm shows no sign of letting up, this gives them two things to occupy their time with. Shiro glances towards the examination table propped up in a corner of the room, and then away.]

Was just thinking the same thing.

[He's also worried about burning it though. If it's too toxic, the smoke may become an issue too. They have to wait for the storm. Keith turns to start gathering up what he thinks they need to bring to Allura, back away from Shiro.]

You should probably get off your leg. [It's the first time he's acknowledged it, but he noticed it. Right now, he'd rather not have to worry about Shiro if he's able to rest.]

[It's Keith mentioning it that even reminds him of it, and instinctively he shifts to get his weight off it.

He's so strangely disconnected from this body at times. It's as if the neural pathways hardwired into the state of human existence randomly turn off. He should care that he's injured. He should. But he doesn't. It's more of an inconvenience than anything.]

I'll be fine.

[It's not even said to be stubborn or contrarian. It's just a matter of when. He looks down at the bayard in his hand, still a sword, and wills it to become something else. It shifts into a walking staff, and he lets it take some of his weight.]

Keith-- I didn't mean right this second. You took a few hits, too. We can do all this later.

Shiro.

[It's likely the first stern tone he's ever taken with him. He'd never had a reason to, always trusted him and his 'I'm fine's. But right now, he can't do it.]

You were hurt before we got here. You're still healing, same as me, and you got worse in this fight. Don't tell me to rest and not do the same yourself.

I'm not.

[His tone is gentle. Shiro knows he can be stubborn. He knows he can be reckless, and that he tends to put his personal safety on the back burner when there are other things that need doing, same as Keith. But there's nothing on the line here. Nothing at stake right now that requires that sacrifice.]

I'm just saying we have time. We can lock this place up, come back later and take care of it.

[He stops stacking the books he'd found and stands there. His fists are clenched tight and the only reason his hands aren't hurting is because of the Paladin gloves.]

...You saw it, didn't you.

[He hadn't been fully aware in the fight with the clone, but he's aware of it now. The way he's starting to change, however short-lived it is.

That's the Keith I remember.

Shiro here, looking down at him like something different.]

[There's no missing the meaning. Shiro wouldn't play dumb in any case - it'd be an insult to them both.

He just nods. He keeps his attention focused on Keith and he doesn't look away.]

It's part of who you are. There's nothing wrong with that.

[He can mean that genuinely. It's Keith. Shiro would care about him no matter what he was, and he's cogent enough to understand that not all Galra are--

(Sendak. Zarkon. The druids.)

-- monsters. Shiro is capable of being brutally rational when he needs to be. Being Galra doesn't change who Keith is, it just adds another dimension.]

[He lowers his head a minute, taking in a shaky breath. He finally turns to look at him, hurting, scared, a little lost. Krolia hadn't given him any insight to this. She probably didn't have any idea it could even happen.

When he realized it and came back to himself, he was terrified of it happening so soon after getting this with Shiro.

He stumbles his way to Shiro, rests a hand on his side and waits for him.]

Going up then.

Keith.

[Shiro lets the bayard staff lean against his shoulder so he has a hand free, and then he reaches out to Keith, pulls him in and kisses him. Soft and sweet.]

You wouldn't exist if not for the Galra doing what they've done. If not for the Blades, who've been fighting this fight for centuries.

[The next kiss is pressed gently to his forehead.]

Humans-- we've done some pretty terrible things too, you know. Most of it's just been confined to our own planet so far, and I'm willing to bet that's because we aren't capable of light-speed yet. No race is bloodless. And the universe is better off with you in it. It always will be.

[Keith kind of stutters when Shiro pulls him in to kiss.

Shiro was just slammed and crushed and subjected to who knows what memories from this place, and he's trying to comfort him and make him feel better.

Frustration tears are a thing he's never enjoyed about himself. It hasn't happened in some time (since that ridiculous video record Coran encouraged them all to record) and he hates that it's creeping up on him now. They need to get out of here so he can center himself again.]

Thanks. We should. [Exhale, shuddery and broken.] We should get out of here.

Yeah. I agree.

[He nudges Keith towards the stairs, but he does-- cast one look back at that table. His knuckles whiten around the bayard's staff form, and he tries not to remember the (scent, the taste of) blood and screams. Old echoes chase the hollow sound of his footsteps up the stairs, and he takes his first real breath once they're back out under the tormented sky, the scent of ozone and earth all too welcome.

Shiro is abruptly aware of his absolute, bone-deep weariness. He sways on his feet, and the pain hits him all at once, so intense it makes him feel nauseous and claustrophobic. Trying to breathe through it is a mistake, it hitches on his broken ribs and he feels dizzyingly light-headed. He leans heavier on the staff. He tries to focus on Keith, but the periphery of his vision around him is

closing in]

Keith, I'm not--

[Somewhere, he thinks he can hear Black roaring. Hitting the ground barely registers at all.]

Shiro?

[He can feel Shiro shifting unnaturally next to him and before he can stop it, Shiro's going down. His pulse is racing in his ears seeing him hit the ground. Keith feels unbearably hot suddenly, feeling that becoming-familiar adrenaline with the minute changes.

He uses the worry and fear as strength to lift Shiro up; it's like that night at the crash site all over again. Shiro's dead weight, and Keith's collarbone is popping here and there as he moves but he has to get him inside. Shadow nudges the door open for him when he gets around to it. The furthest he dares go is to the stairs, carefully laying Shiro there.

First aid. First aid, they'd used almost all their kit initially but there had to be scanners, some kind of diagnostic tool to figure out what happened. If not theirs, then the one for this house. (Zarkon would have to be an idiot, Honerva would have to be too arrogant to not have a first aid kit on what is essentially a garden and farm)

He doesn't find one. he finds what's left of one from before, but not one he can use. He also finds a centuries old pod, not unlike what they had on the castle. It's stuffed away in a storage closet off the kitchen, seemingly because of it's non-use. He rolls it out as far as it can go and still be powered. He doesn't bother getting his breath, he's biting down the inside of his cheek and tasting blood as he picks Shiro up and drags him to the pod.

He seals it, sets it with how long he thinks (he'd never bothered to find out the details or the quirks) is long enough. And then waits.]

[He doesn't dream. Not in the usual sense. But he is... aware of something happening outside his body, dimly. Like when people talk about an out-of-body experience. He knows Keith is upset. He wants to do something about it, but he can't move or react or think --

-- And then he's awake. Gasping. The absence of pain is as much a shock to the system as its overload, but he's

stuck in a pod he can't breathe he can't think he has to get out break the glass break the glass--

He only hits it once before his senses come back to him, and from there it's a matter of controlling his breathing, the sharp cutting panic. As soon as Keith sees he's awake he's already hitting the panel to let him out and Shiro stumbles out of the pod.]

Keith?

[He kept watch for some of the time. Some of the time, he walked around the house, sorted out the things he'd found while looking for the pod, stretched his sore muscles. But he didn't sleep. He didn't trust himself to sleep.

Once the pod beeps, Shiro's awake and looking distressed. He gets the pod drained and open, trembling as he holds Shiro up.]

Hey, hey easy. You're all right, you're safe. [Once he's sure they are't going to fall, he carefully starts easing Shiro to a chair to sit.]

Sorry.

[It's probably a sign of how distressed he is that he goes without protest, and doesn't immediately comment on Keith's disheveled state.

He is looking down at his hand, which is free of the nicks and abrasions from the last few days and it doesn't ache when he closes it. Altean healing pods.

He exhales shakily, and then looks up at Keith.]

You okay?

[Once Shiro is seated, he kneels down to squat.

He'd gotten mad at Shiro for making light of his injuries. It wouldn't be fair to not do the same. He sounds breathless when he answers, everything catching up to him.]

Tired.

[He rubs at the most apparent sore of his collarbone, eyebrow twitching as he does.] You passed out.

[He doesn't really care about the details. What matters: Keith got him into the house, found one of these pods, activated it and then probably paced a hole in the floor somewhere in worry.

Shiro's expression flickers into something soft, and he leans forward to brush his hair away from his face. He's willing to bet he's neither eaten nor slept nor showered.]

Okay. Your turn.