Chapter Text
“What was that?"
“Mayday mayday! This is the Castle of Lions! We’re under attack! Repeat, we’re under—! All systems are shutting down! Please if— we need—“
“-going to hit us!”
“I’m gonna be sick–”
“Get us out of the blast radius!”
“-too fast! We’re not going to make it!”
“Shiro–!”
❈
Red lights blinked with panicked rhythm in black emptiness. There were no alarms that wailed at an ear piercing pitch, and the flashing was more ominous for it. Shiro, actually, wouldn’t know if there were alarms sounding off. The explosion that hit the ship damaged his ears. Filling them with a painful muted ringing and hot rivulets of scarlet rolled down the sides of his face. Darkness spun around him, throwing him into a terrible vertigo making it particularly difficult to push himself off the floor where he was firmly kneeling.
Distantly, as his ears came to, there was a familiar cry of a pup wrapped too tight in his arms. A muffled whimper and slapping hands.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, papa’s sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Shiro sobbed openly, hardly able to hear himself apologize.
The small boy sucked in a gasp half a second before letting out a wailing sob after nearly being suffocated. Shiro had him pinned too harshly against the glowing armor on his chest, afraid of dropping or losing him to some unseen evil.
Shiro’s ears pinned to his head as he tried to soothe the violent frightened screams of the pup.
“I’m so sorry, papa’s got you. It’s going to be okay, don’t worry. I’m here.” Hushing the pup he kissed the top of his head then nuzzled him. As much as he cared that his son was crying, Shiro only coddled him to reassure himself that Shoji was alive and well under the false guise of settling him down. They were alive. They somehow escaped the blast but - he remembered the shock of the wave and the pop of his ears. Touching his jaw his fingertips came away wet and smelling of copper. Shiro remembered seeing the blue light seconds before turning his back to it and shielding his pup. Death merely ticks away from harvesting them both. He remembered, more than that, the third heartbeat in his chest snuffing out so only his and Shoji’s pittered away. Still the taste of death lingered like bile in the back of his throat making him wish he were dead too. All his love for life stopped with Keith’s heart.
He didn’t mind that his current locale was a mystery. The greater worry of barely being able to lift himself to his knees occupied his full attention. Holding Shoji close, he let out a scream of sorrow when the heaviness of his loss struck at full force.
Were he able to see in the pitch black it wouldn’t have mattered with so many tears falling down his face. Crying out in his grievances in ragged breaths at the universe who would take the one man he loved. The father of their pup. A shattered emptiness left him hollow and wailing over his son’s higher pitched more frightened cries. Little arms gripped him tight around his neck when he bent forward on the verge of falling over with the weight of his grief.
It’s unclear how long he was like this, doboshes, maybe vargas. He couldn’t tell. His only sense of familiarity came from Shoji and Keith’s lingering scent on him that kept Shiro’s head clouded with how can I live with never seeing him again? Miserable self pitying sentiments that led him to mourn the future next. Shoji would never know him. Keith would be a story, not a person.
Sometime later, when hunger and thirst parched him, Shiro began to feel around the space using the occasional red flash to try understanding where he was. One thing he knew for certain: wherever it may be, it wasn’t the escape pod he was tricked into.
This place was bigger. Much bigger. His screams before had echoed in the openness. If he was taken by any of Zarkon’s lackeys they have yet to apprehend him.
Maybe the battle cruiser was damaged in the blast. Zarkon had so much pure quintessence it wouldn’t surprise Shiro very much if it destabilized every vessel in the quadrant.
His understanding for the potential danger of getting caught was sobering. He needed to find somewhere isolated where he could gather his wits and protect Shoji. Remaining in the open like this left him vulnerable to attacks from any direction especially if he couldn’t see.
Activating his mask it closed around his face and scanned the area. A path was revealed and he carefully followed the ghostly purple route down the corridor.
Drawing his blade, he clutched it fiercely in one hand while in the other told Shoji to hold on tight. Each step he took was cautious, the place had manicured floors which told him it was constructed by architects. His theory that this was an imperial cruiser was becoming more realistic. He hushed Shoji with gentle words of affirmation and kept a nervous pace.
The red flashes were enough for him to make out the empty distance better. There were no signs of life nearby which was both a concern and a relief. If they were the only ones on board without any backup generator coming on, it was likely they would starve to death here. He would worry about sustenance later, a safe place to lay low must be his priority.
Coming upon a small closet, for all he knew this place could be abandoned or overrun by imperial galran soldiers, none of whom he stood a chance against en masse with a pup in his arms. So, he locked himself in the closet. Cradling Shoji until he stopped crying he put the exhausted boy to rest with gentle words said in a shaking voice. The faint purple outline of him in his arms was enough to reassure Shiro he wasn’t going crazy and all of this was real.
They were lost on a ship with no power.
This is likely where they would meet their end in a handful or two of quintents. Shiro disliked the pessimistic ideology but it ate away what little hope he clung to, and despite that hope, pessimism and realism became one and the same as he slumped against the closet wall. Exhaustion and intrusive thoughts dissolved and reshaped his morals over the following vargas. Looking at his son he wondered if death by the blade would be a mercy compared to slow starvation. He questioned if he was even capable of such an act. To use his blade against a pup. His son, Keith’s son, the last living link to his mate.
Fresh tears blurred his vision.
Bringing Shoji closer his mask retracted, blinding him again, but he kissed Shoji on the forehead. Cradling him close to lavish the pup with affection as guilt wracked him for entertaining the thought. Dark evil thoughts of taking Shoji’s life then his own were too frightening to linger on. Trepidation curled around his spine when he was too sweetly lured by the idea. Death called for him to join Keith as the hollowness inside him swallowed all paternal urges and warped them to suit his misery. Invalid justifications led him to shed tears full of guilt.
As big as Shoji was, at two years of age the pup was only the size of his forearm. Shiro himself was in general larger than the majority of his peers in the Blades, especially little half-breed Keith who was a fraction of everyone else. His half human heritage stunted the vast majority of his growth. Keith hardly survived his pregnancy with Shoji if it weren’t for the excellent physician on base. A long nine months passed then a frightening handful of hours later, the smallest pup Shiro had ever seen came out of him.
Losing himself in memories of getting up in the middle of the night to feed Shoji he was now plagued with the responsibility that he could do nothing now to satisfy the pup’s hunger. The familiar home barely removed from the main dormitory of the base was long gone, he had no bottles or jars of unusual blended food combinations.
Lights came on in the broom closet, blinding him with the white interior of the walls, and startling the pup into another fit of thrashing sobs. Shiro sucked in a breath in preparation for a fight, drawing his blade in a fraction of a second he scrambled back from the door prepared to kill anything that came through.
But nothing happened.
No one opened the door but his legs trembled under him until he took to settling the pup a second time. Slumping back against the wall with a huff he curled around Shoji, his own emotions bubbling up with an obscene nature. He missed Keith and never before imagined him so viscerally. Drawing up the perfect image of the omega in his mind as his skin remembered what Keith’s warmth felt like. The smaller man against him fit like crafted pieces created in a pair, designed to work in harmony with one another.
A backup generator must’ve figured out a way to turn itself on or the crew of the ship must’ve returned. Either way, they were likely to either be discovered or he would be forced to leave.
Time passed, how much time he couldn't say for sure, but he didn’t feel safe enough to let himself sleep. If he gave into his exhaustion then there would be no one to protect Shoji or soothe him when he woke up. Giving the pup half his last ration bar was all he had left of an old emergency supply, and before long, that wasn’t enough.
“I know pup, I’m sorry,” he began to cry again when the pup tugged at his hands and swiped at the plate on his chest, hateful of the hard armor that separated them. Exhaustion, fear, and loss pushed him over the edge. It was too much like when he had been captured. Stolen from Keith and the Blades so many decapheobes ago and forced to fight, to become The Champion. He rarely thought about those times except when he dreamed of the people he met in the arena. There were many other things occupying his thoughts at any given moment, but as it were, he’s been dwelling on the past more with little else to do.
Nuzzling the pup his face was pushed away with an angry grunt and a firm no. Shoji didn’t want to be scented, he wanted something to eat.
Shiro, the longer he listened to his son’s wailing, grew more anxious to explore to try and find something. From what he could tell this was a massive vessel, logically there must be a dining hall or cafeteria of some kind.
There were two options. He could risk Shoji starving to death; or he could leave the safety of the closet, likely to be killed by centuries, and Shoji would starve to death.
“-coming from in here?” A voice said just outside the door.
Shiro jolted, yanking his blade from the scabbard and bracing himself with a snarl against the back wall.
“Did you hear that? Do you think it's a dog?”
“Why the hell would there be a dog in the castle?”
Adrenaline coursed through his veins so suddenly his arms and legs shook with the strain. Spots clouded his vision as blood rushed away from his head, pounding as his face emptied of color. Shiro fought against the growing urge to faint, his breath frantic as he held Shoji too tight again.
The door opened and he scrambled back when a heavy set terran in yellow screamed in surprise at the sight of him then slammed the door shut.
“Galra in the closet! Galra in the closet! There’s a galra in the closet you guys!”
Shiro curled around his son, trying harder now to hush him. The door opened again and he startled with another growl. Turning his back he made it so he would be the first to take any strike that might lash out at them. Covering Shoji completely so his body became the last shield between his son and their attackers.
“Holy shit he has a baby?” Another young terran in blue rushed in with a two handed blaster.
“Guys! Lock on my location, we’ve got him pinned!”
“Don’t come any closer!” Shiro roared. Swinging his blade, all skill and tact were lost to hunger, misery, and sleep deprivation.
“Whoa! I don’t think so, galra.” The terran in blue kicked his hand hard enough the blade flew from his grasp, clattering somewhere unseen.
“Hand over the baby and surrender peacefully. I’m sure we can work something out where no one gets hurt.” The one in yellow was back.
“Stay away!” Shiro roared and half turned around, snarling, gnashing his fangs at them. He rightfully assumed his growl would have an effect but their reactions were not exactly what he expected. Fear did not overwhelm them as he thought it would, while the pair backed away as expected, they lowered their weapons when a look of shock came over them.
“Uh- Lance, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Lance? Like Commander Lance McClain, the half breed who organized the coalition freedom fighters?
“If you’re seeing a big scary purple galra version of Shiro, then yes,” Lance said.
Shrio snarled despite recognizing the face, too tired now and overstimulated by Shoji’s unyielding screams.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t he in handcuffs?” A woman in pink appeared, a scowl on her face. Shiro growled at her too then hid his face to scent Shoji and try to calm him down but the pup wasn’t having it. He wanted Keith, so did Shiro.
“Oh. Oh my that is rather unusual,” she said.
Outside the door more familiar faces, terran counterparts to generals and commanders of the blades gathered to discuss him and what to do about the baby that wouldn’t stop crying.
“What’s the situation?”
Shiro risked a glimpse between all the arrivals until his eyes locked with a face that was more than familiar.
Granted, the version of himself he was looking at was much smaller with naked yellow-pinkish skin, slanted eyes, and tiny ears on the sides of his head. A terran like the rest. Amusingly, he even had the same white tuft of hair right at the front and the same metal arm.
Hunk moved forward after some deliberation was spent discussing his fate, “the baby sounds hungry. How long have you been in here? I mean. . . The power has been out for almost two days? Did you just. . . Hide for that long?”
Tears formed in his tired eyes once more. “He is, but I’m not sure how long. Do you have anything I can give him? Please, he’s been crying for so long and I don’t have anything else. I think he’s starving.” To hell with whether or not he should trust them, if they could feed Shoji he’d take the risk. He was on the verge of going out on his own anyway, maybe being discovered was luck.
Hunk held out his hand for him to join them on a walk, “no one starves on my watch. I’ll whip something up for you both while the others ask you questions.”
On wobbly tired legs he followed them out of the closet with the boy held tight in his arms and tears of hope stinging his eyes. Cautiously eyeing his rescuers who discussed if they had any baby clothes or diapers somewhere around the castle.
❈
Shiro, the purple one who stood head and shoulders above everyone, was dubbed Takashi to prevent confusion when both Shiros answered to the one name. It also made the team uncomfortable when they were confronted with two of the same face when they didn’t specify which Shiro they were talking to.
Escorted to the dining hall Takashi eagerly accepted the plate of food goo and spooned it into Shoji’s open screaming mouth as quickly as the pup could swallow. Seeing him eat and gobble down every last bite until he was satisfied brought tears of relief to his eyes. Takashi’s face broke as he kissed Shoji on his dark hair, muttering his joy as he wiped the mess of his chin to stop it from sticking in the soft fuzz.
“He looks so familiar,” Shiro said.
Takashi glanced at him in stark amusement for a second as he tried to understand if his little duplicate was trying to be funny or not. After a few beats the humor of the situation melted away when he realized the little Shiro was being entirely genuine in his confusion.
“I expect he would,” Takashi raised a brow at him.
Could he really not recognize Keith in the pup’s face?
Holding Shoji close after he finished eating the boy was able to finally fall into a deep sleep with his nose pressed into Takashi’s neck. Breathing in his papa’s scent with greed it was a precious moment Takashi wished Keith could’ve seen. The galra man ate only after he was sure Shoji had passed out with fat bellied satisfaction. Inhaling four times as much food he was thankful they saved their questions for after he was finished.
At least as finished as he could be with so many eyes boring into him demanding to know more about him.
He eventually put down the spoon with a clack when he knew making them wait would only increase whatever tensions there were between these people and what made them so afraid of the galra. To his surprise however, the closer he looked the more he began to recognize the people around him. Terran copies of great leaders of the resistance factions and the Blade.
“So, Takashi,” he severely disliked being called by his first name, “what’s with the kid?” Lance asked with an accusatory glower.
Shifting under so many eyes he brought a hand to Shoji‘s back, wanting to protect him from their aggressive looks. There was no reason other than his appearance to be mistrusted and to what extent, he was in his Blade uniform, he has the same face as their leader, what more was there to distrust?
“He’s my son,” he said, with an air of confusion.
The information caused a wave of curiosity among the group. Pidge moved closer to see and nodded when she could see the resemblance.
“He looks exactly like you,” she said.
“And who’s the mother?” Allura, he recognized her now by her pointed features and round vibrant eyes. She was also galra, from what he remembered. These versions were a fraction of their true selves but as far as he could tell, their personalities were unnervingly similar. Hunk, Pidge, Lance, Allura, himself. . . One was missing.
“He doesn’t have a mother, I was mated to another man,” he said calmly.
Eyes turned to Shiro who blushed and crossed his arms, “everyone here knows I had a boyfriend at the garrison, there’s no need to act so surprised.” He pouted.
Pidge and Lance crossed their arms too, acting like they knew something more than that.
Rumors of Shiro were not uncommon among the girls in the garrison as they daydreamed about him, only to once in a while have their hopes dashed by the occasional outing of the commander by older cadets. There was also the one rumor that Shiro had a thing for younger students that got a handful of cadets called into the commander’s office for spreading false, and revolting, information. If that wasn’t enough, there was the common belief among the paladins and their two altean friends that Keith was Shiro’s favorite for more than one reason.
Lance was the only one to accuse their leader of favoritism but he was often told he was being inappropriate and his concerns were dismissed.
“Where’s Keith?” Takashi looked at Shiro with a frown.
“You know Keith?” Pidge asked.
Takashi nodded and his breath caught the use of present tense.
“Is he alive? Is he safe?” He asked.
“Yes, he left us to join the Blades of Marmora seven or eight pheobes ago. My last contact with him was just before we lost power with the surge. As far as I know he’s alright,” Shiro said.
Takashi wasn’t sure how long a day was but he supposed it was short enough to not be much cause for concern. For as long as he felt cramped up in the closet he would guess it was comparable to a quintent.
Beyond the question of time relevance, he latched on to everything else that was said.
“You let him leave?” Takashi snapped to attention, raising his voice so quickly everyone startled, “you let him join the Blades by himself? Are you insane? ” He bit out.
Shoji jumped in his arms at the rumble of his voice, his little face squished in displeasure.
Shiro frowned at the accusations and his mouth fell open as if he couldn’t be to blame for Keith’s departure. “It was his decision to make, I don’t have the authority to tell him no,” Shiro replied firmly.
“You’re his mate, that’s all the authority you need,” Takashi growled. Shiro sputtered at being called a mate, his face turning red and his scent spiking indignantly. Whatever nerve Takashi struck Takashi intended to continue striking it.
“Our relationship is not a valid reason to hold him hostage,”
There was a group effort to settle them down after that. Though several people jumped up in surprise, one of them seemingly thrilled to have heard it admitted out loud. Their involvement together must not have been an open topic of discussion.
Hunk, in the midst of it all, made it abundantly clear that shouting made him nervous.
“It’s a galra only organization,” Allura managed above the clamoring, “none of us could have gone with him even if we wanted to. He was hurting the team with his constant absence anyway, abandoning us when we needed him the most and leaving us vulnerable when we were in need of Voltron.”
Takashi turned to her, fangs bared and his throat rolling with a growl. “And as punishment for his absence you sent him away where he might become permanently absent? You fucking moron of an altean, do you realize he could die out there by himself and none of you would know? Keith gets depressed when he’s alone, why would you let him go?” Takashi spat back, using altean against her the same as galra had been used against him.
Allura bristled at the insult. “Like you’re any better, a galra clone with a stolen child! You should be in handcuffs!” She snapped.
“I am his father!” His voice deep and rumbling with such outrage her facade of hate faltered.
Shoji let out a cry, adding to the mess of noise. Takashi’s ears pinned to his head as he curled his arms around the boy a little tighter to shield him from everyone else.
“Enough! Guys, seriously, yelling at each other isn’t going to give us answers,” Pidge said over them.
Hunk shrank in his seat, “did I mention yelling makes me nervous yet?”
Lance pushed himself as far back in the chair as possible, “you did, yeah.”
Takashi only reigned himself in when Shoji hit him on the arm, but he couldn’t stop glaring at the terran version of himself with disgust. How could he just let his mate trollop off like it meant nothing? Where was their bond? How could he refrain from at the very least joining Keith when he was half galra himself, what made him assume he couldn’t follow?
Pidge nodded when the room went silent at last.
“There, see? That’s more like it. Now, where did you come from? Do you know how you got on board?” She moved closer, pulling a little device from her pocket she stayed on the table to be eye level with him and get a scan of his head. Little beeps went off and his ears twitched to catch the sound, grumbling to himself he thought for a moment she was doing it just to annoy him.
“I don’t know,” he leaned away when she got too close, “the ship blew, there was a surge of energy then I woke up here. It’s not exactly clear what happened.”
“What ship? What kind of energy surge?” Pidge asked, apparently she was the only one who was brave enough to speak to him.
“Zarkon’s ship. The vessels of quintessence he had on board must’ve—” his voice broke. Taking a moment to feel out the lump in his throat, it was still too fresh to speak about. Even when the escape pod had been facing away from the blast, the flash of light was so bright. . . Keith’s heart stopping in his chest was so vivid.
“Zarkon’s ship? Quintessence? Are you saying he’s still alive?” Pidge stopped her scanning.
“No, he’s dead, I can guarantee you that. The charges went off and the detonation was massive. But after injecting himself with so much pure quintessence when he died I think it might have done something to me,”
“Quintessence is a mysterious and magical substance we still don’t fully understand yet. And it was a sudden energy spike that took us offline,” Pidge said thoughtfully, “my working theory is, this isn’t a clone or fake Shiro. I think. . . He's from an alternate reality.”
Takashi’s ears twitched and his face remained firmly set in a displeased frown.
“Again?” Lance whined.
❈
Takashi sat on a table in the medical bay while Coran and Pidge circled him studiously with whirring and beeping little gadgets. In the past few days his only escape from their watchful eyes and sticky electrodes was when Hunk announced a meal or when he needed to use the bathroom. He knew what it was to be a prisoner, and while the cell might be a lab, and his jailors science forward thinkers, he was not allowed open access to the ship during the day and he was advised to stay in his room at night.
He didn’t blame them for their caution, but it was annoying. It wasn’t for several more days after intense questioning and probing by each of them was he given any kind of wandering privileges. To his amusement, when little Shiro questioned him the man hardly seemed focused on questions of consequence like Allura and Pidge. Rather he wondered at length about Keith and Shoji.
Now, he sat on the edge of a chair, eager to be done with the day's round of testing and it wasn’t even noon. He had a great deal of sulking to do later in his room while Hunk and Allura looked after Shoji for a while.
Pidge hooked his false arm into a scanner. The screens that popped up weren’t very interesting, it looked like coding and other techy things that he didn’t have the patience to look at. Not when Coran was sitting on the floor keeping Shoji’s attention with a device he wasn’t sure was safe for a pup to consider a toy and a handful of colorful mice.
“Is everything alright?” Coran asked.
Takashi sat up a little straighter.
“Fine, why?” Even as he said it the words came out as a growl.
“You look a little. . . Tense,” Pidge said.
“I’m not tense,” he snipped with a frown.
“Maybe I’ll take the little one for a snack with Uncle Hunk, eh?” Coran said.
It was only a matter of how he wished it were Keith who sat on the floor with the boy, playing with him and entertaining him with. . . A magnetic thermal stabilizer? It looked like an ancient stargazing glass without the curved glass or mirrors on either end. If he wasn’t mistaken, they have a combustible heating element somewhere.
“Hunk isn’t his uncle,” was all he could think to say.
The altean’s shy question brought him out of his gloomy trance.
“Oh, yes. . . My mistake.” Coran smiled awkwardly, took the pup into his arms, then slipped out of the room. Head low and Shoji tugging on his mustache.
Takashi slumped to the side with a downtrodden expression, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes then grumping to himself. The longer he had to stay on the table the less he wanted to find a solution to his problem. Keith was gone, his home was likely to be ruined if not stolen by refugees. Without Keith it would never be home again anyway, just an empty house.
Taking a deep breath he dropped his head into a hand and tried to work through the rising feelings. It was easier at night when everyone was asleep, he was able to cry without being seen, only once has Lance caught him in the dining room hunched over a plate.
“It’ll only be for a few more hours and I’ll have concluded most of my data mining, from there Allura, Coran, and I will work together on sending you back where you came from,” Pidge said softly.
He nodded, refusing to look at her, and kept his arm out until he was done.
“What are you planning to do with me?” He asked low, reaching into the depths of his voice to stop it from breaking.
“I- well- don’t you want to go back home?”
He shook his head, sniffled, and wiped his face so she wouldn’t see the tears. Not that it mattered, it was obvious now.
“That place isn’t home anymore,” he whispered.
Pidge stood beside him, her gaze fixed downward with a thoughtful expression.
“I’m sorry he’s gone,”
Takashi covered his face again and took his arm back when she took the cord out before she was done collecting what was needed.
“We can finish tomorrow,” she murmured, “I’ll have Hunk and the others bring the kid to you in a few vargas.”
Takashi nodded silently again and stood, patting her on the shoulder, he left quickly to escape any eyes that might be curious to see him stumble.
❈
Imagining Keith with him in bed he laid with a hand in the empty space beside himself, stroking the blankets with the pad of his thumb. The picture he has of Keith in his mind’s eye was unbearably precise to the last detail. From the little scar under his eyebrow most people never comment on because it’s too faint, to the point of his nose, the curve of his brow that led down to his soft cheeks. The most beautiful lavender with strong arms and a gentle curve to his hips from Shoji. He missed the way Keith smiled at their boy and spoke often about having a second when they had the time.
He wished Keith was here to hold their son, to kiss him and tell him how much he loves him one more time for selfish reasons. If Keith appeared to tell Shoji sweet things then Takashi would get to see him too.
Sometimes, he could imagine so intensely what Keith’s scent was like as if he would materialize in Takashi’s hands if he wished it hard enough.
If he thought about it for too long, and often did when he was alone, he would realize over again that Shoji would have no living memory of his dad. If losing the bond wasn’t enough to drive him insane that afternoon, then mourning the future would.
❈
By himself, Takashi sat with his boy in the dining room feeding him another healthy portion. He was sure since arriving Shoji had gained weight and he intended to continue that trend for as long as he could.
Doing his best to cheer up for the sake of his pup left him lethargic, but he couldn’t pawn Shoji off when he didn’t feel like getting out of bed. When he wasn’t stuck for hours at a time in the lab, he mustered up the strength to play over a meal.
“Oh, here’s the freighter, here it comes.'' He drove a spoon through the air, pointedly not making sounds the way Keith would. It always made him irrationally uncomfortable to play like Keith would, and now it would taint the memory of him if he did it too. When they were all together on the base Takashi would always make it a point to say ships didn’t make noise in space, rambling on about vacuums and sound particles. Keith would often ignore him with an unimpressed side glance and flick of his ears.
“Don’t spoil the fun, Shiro.” He’d try to threaten but his mouth always quirked up in the corners like he did it on purpose so Takashi would complain about inaccuracies.
Gritting his teeth he cleared his throat to keep himself together when Shoji spat out some of the food goo and smeared it across the table top.
“All of it pup, you can’t eat half and spit the rest out, look, watch papa.” He took a full bite, hardly noticing its unusual salty bland flavor, then made another spoonful to give Shoji.
“Your turn, mmn, it’s good right?”
Shoji slapped his hands down, “yummy green!”
“Yeah, yummy green. You’re making such a big mess, that means it’s good for you.” He caught Shoji when the boy put his hand in the plate then up to his mouth.
“No - ugh. Shoji, we use spoons for a reason, no eating with your hands.” He grabbed a napkin to clean him while gently criticizing messy habits. Quietly explaining in words obviously too complicated for someone so young to understand, why using hands to eat was not the most civilized fashion of eating one’s dinner. And in a softer voice, that he missed dada and didn’t have the energy to bathe a spry two year old.
Takashi stopped cold in the middle of a sentence, his ears swiveling around.
There was a shuffle by the door and his ears fell back pressing against his head to alert whoever was there he wasn’t in a pleasant mood.
“Mind if I join you for a bit?”
Shiro, the small one everyone insisted on calling the Original Shrio stood in the open door with an aura of shyness about him. He didn’t stand hunched over on himself, or with his arms defensively crossed, in fact he looked very sure of himself and spoke with a level tone, but he gave the impression of meekness and hesitance. One that Takashi knew very well, recognizing the behavior as an imposing being approaching a nervous house pet. Despite his cool approach Takashi stared at him with malice. This was the same person who let Keith run away to join the Blades without a companion by his side, an irresponsible half terran who claimed he couldn’t follow. If this Original Shiro had the faintest shred of a soul he would’ve stopped Keith from leaving and mated him. . . Or married, he was pretty sure terrans called their lifelong bonds marriage.
“You’re good with him,” Shiro said, his arms crossed over his chest. Takashi leaned back, petting a knuckle down a mark on Shoji’s cheek.
“I’m trying. Keith always said he felt like the awkward one - but,” he paused for thought.
“He was better than you,” Shiro said with a tired smile.
It had been Takashi’s idea to have pups, he was always the first to bring it up and was often surprised when Keith ever mentioned it. Several times he asked if Keith would consider ever starting a family, then they were surprised with Shoji. Life began happening to them and before they had the time to blink the pup arrived, less than a breath later Shoji was walking and talking, then Takashi made the mistake of turning around and Keith was gone. Life happened so fast. . .
Shiro moved into the dining room, his arms falling open when he gestured to an empty spot, “may I?”
Takashi’s ears stayed pinned to his head. If he had a tail he expected it might flick with irritation. Against his own wishes he nodded in allowance and his insides curled with strange discomfort when Shoji reached for the terran. Confusion on the pup’s part was understandable, they had the same face and hair pattern, their voices were identical, even the scar on the bridge of their nose and metal arm, but bitter anger was foul on his tongue when it came with the thought we’re a different color.
“Yummy.” Shoji grabbed a handful of food goo and offered it to Shiro.
“Oh, yeah? Is that for me?” Shiro asked with the same soft tones Takashi used.
“Eat!” Shoji opened his mouth to put his fist in it, neglecting once again the use of a spoon.
“For Nodre’s sake, stop with the hands,” Takashi exasperated.
As much as he wanted to hate Shiro, he couldn’t blame the man for taking an interest in them both. At their core, he and Shiro are the same person with shared experiences of loving the same young man who has disappeared from their lives. From the interrogations he was more inclined to call aggressive interviews, he and this Shiro were both held prisoner for a length of time by Zarkon’s forces. Beyond that he was left to wonder what the other’s life was like.
“He looks like Keith,” Shiro offered his hand to Shoji who didn’t make a move to accept until he tried again with the synthetic one the pup recognized. One of his black fingers was grabbed and brought to the pup's mouth to bite on, he didn’t pull away.
“It’s his chin and cheeks. He has the same marks Keith did,” Takashi agreed.
Petting Shoji’s little knuckles with his thumb Shiro asked, “what’s it like?”
Takashi frowned at the invasive question. “Losing Keith - or having a pup?”
He didn’t react to the way Shiro flinched at the mention of Keith’s loss, but it did foster a blooming satisfaction to know the man wasn’t totally incapable of feeling remorse for his decisions. The way his narrow eyes darkened spoke volumes to his discomfort, but aside from that he remained annoyingly composed. Both of them decided to focus on the pup over the strangeness of one another and asking oneself for advice.
“Both, if you don’t mind. . . But I was wondering more about having a baby. I’ve,” he paused, his gaze dropping to where his metal hand was held onto and played with by Shoji.
“Children were never an option for me until recently. I was dealing with an illness on and off for a long time and there was always the threat of passing it down or dying before any children I had could grow up. Then after Keith and the others found me after defeating Zarkon my health improved and we thought maybe . . . Before everything happened, Keith and I talked about leaving together all the time, starting a family, finding a cure for me. But now I’m cured and he’s gone and I’m barely making it through the days. It’s difficult without him and I- I thought he and I wanted the same thing but. . .” His thoughts trailed off sadly. Unsure of where to go with the sentence without hurting his own feelings.
Takashi listened silently, his expression free of judgment.
“You and I haven’t spoken much on a personal level,” Shiro continued, “but I’ve seen you with him and I can't help but wonder if I’m looking at a missed chance,” he gestured to Shoji, “I thought I was being supportive by letting him chose his own path, allowing him to become a man and form new bonds. . . Did- did I make a mistake letting him go?”
Shiro’s voice grew small with uncertainty in a way Takashi ached to hear. The expectant look he got then, pleading in stoic silence for guidance. It would be easy to say yes, to scold him for being a moron. Curses and insults came to mind far too easily, and knowing himself so well there were a few deep digs he could use against Shiro to make it extra painful. Inadequate, not enough, just a sick boy trying to have something he never had a chance at in the first place.
As relieving as it would be to take out his grief on the little Shiro, Takashi drew in a deep breath, settled the racing anger that made his heart pitter out of rhythm, then leaned back.
“That’s a big question,” he rumbled deeply.
Thinking seriously, forming a comprehensive grasp of what it meant to lose a mate then explain what it was like to be a father on his own (and nearly fail in the forty-eight vargas immediately following Keith’s death) was a big bite of life he doesn’t understand yet either. With Keith it all made sense, everything had an order and a balance, there was a lot to unpack in the idea of a missed opportunity as well. To see another life be so possible in a neighboring reality.
“I don’t know if I can put it into words. Losing Keith. . . Coming here,” he tilted his head with a deep sigh that provoked sadness from the air, low acrid tones of cedar and cloves curling under their noses.
“It’s difficult to get my head around it at all and sometimes I don’t think any of this or what happened is real. It’s-” his breath hitched, he cleared his throat, “having a mate is to create a link between two living things, the quintessence of two beings becomes one and you can feel the tide of his emotions, the beat of his heart, it’s the deepest form of love in existence. So when one of two mates die,” he swallowed, tears stung his eyes. Shiro stayed quiet, listening carefully with a tight watery expression of his own.
“It’s like having every piece of yourself torn out and stripped of everything that makes life worth living,” he swallowed past a painful lump in his throat, “I want to die.” He whispered.
Shiro avoided his gaze then took a deep shaking breath. Something in that resonated with him in a way Takashi wondered if maybe he and this disappeared version of Keith were bonded without the others' knowledge. More than simple feelings tan between them for Shiro to squirm like that.
Curling his metal hand into a fist he idly tapped his knuckles on the table, “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said meekly.
Takashi didn’t like the sound of Shiro apologizing to him. It was unnatural and it made him feel like this entire conversation was a very complicated interdimensional way to achieve self pity. He pet another knuckle down the stripe on Shoji’s cheek, idly thinking of how he’s kissed those same stripes on Keith’s cheeks.
“The only reason I haven’t given up is because of what he gave me. If your Keith ever gives you a son, try to look after them better than I did. Don’t let them out of your sight. And don’t let Keith trick you into living without him. It’s miserable,”
“It is miserable,” Shiro agreed too quickly, “wait - did you say if Keith gives me a son?”
Takashi raised a brow at the blush on Shiro’s face, flustered and confused.
“Yes,” Takashi said with an air of uncertainty. Both he and this little Shiro were half galra, they should be more than capable of conceiving a pup on their own. This Shiro he was sitting with was an alpha, his scent was weak but unmistakable, if Keith were to be the omega he believes him to be there would be nothing in their way of having a family of their own.
“Haven’t you - you know. . .” Takashi glanced at Shoji and covered his ears, “haven’t you spent a heat with him, or knotted him?”
Shiro turned an even darker shade of pink before stammering his way through half sentences. Waving his hand he tried dismissing the topic, “he’s half galra but I sincerely doubt his ability to - to. . . You know, do that.” He gestured to Shoji.
Takashi was no less guilty of blushing, even if he did find amusement in the ignorance, there was also great deal of confusion prompted by that response. If Keith was anything like himself, he would at least be half omega. In his experience most cross breeds tend to lean towards their galra halfs.
Wiping his pup’s face clear of green goo he was done and Takashi didn’t have patience left to let Shoji play with the food.
“When he comes back it’s likely he’ll have learned this about himself. You would be wise to invest in contraceptives for him if you don’t intend to start a family,” he said.
Shiro made a noise like it pained him to hear it said out loud.
“You - I mean - when you say you’re the father?” He asked.
Takashi nodded, “you don’t know much about galra biology do you?”
Shiro shook his head, a stiff frightened gesture.
“When you have your next rut with him it will make more sense,”
“My next what? Humans don’t–”
“Hey, uh - guys? Turns out Pidge’s mayday made it to someone and you’re gonna want to see this.” Hunk appeared in the doorway then disappeared just as quickly.
“Duty calls,” they said at the same time.
Looking at each other uncomfortably they also both took a step back at the same time as before breaking the freaky mirror moment. Takashi picked up Shoji, settling the sleepy boy on his chest so his shoulder could be a pillow and followed Shiro out into the hall.
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