The Space Between Us // Klance *UNDER REVISION*

Chapter 10: Keith

I woke up to an undesired and uncalled for situation. I presumed that there would have been extensive time involved with learning how to suppress and exhibit my Galra genes; I had hoped and thought of a nice and steady process, but the purple pigment in my hands that went up to everything I could view with my shaking eyes disapproved of that reality.

My heart sunk, but then its gears shifted; it raced like a stampede of wild, free horses. I carelessly turned to slam into my mirror, cursing myself with seven years of misfortune as the corner cracked. Small speckles of glass sparkled as they descended to my bedroom floor. I stood in bewilderment at what I had become.

I brought my hands up to my face in fear and disbelief, my talons grazing it in horror. I had cut designs of dark purple coming from my back reaching up to the sides of my cheekbones, a characteristic that made me look more unique than other Galra. My mullet was now a shade of dark plum with its bottom emulating a vibrant, hot pink. The white in my eyes had become yellow and my complexion was now a soft shade of lilac. Through my rounded out, pointed ears, I could hear the panic in my own breath. I didn't recognize myself and I had that right.

It made me want to hide in my room forever: my team had not been informed of my testing and I was unsure of what they would think of it. Lotor joining the coalition was a suspicious act and having been blinded by his charm, I never considered this to have been a possible outcome. It was a foolish realization, but at least I had moved on from my prior ignorance.

And it wasn't just that. Maybe I still hadn't come to terms that I was Galra. I knew of the atrocities that they had committed. They scarred Shiro. Deep cuts buried deep in his skin. His cells fought at him too. A meager scrap or burn took twice as long to properly heal due to his disease. I blamed myself and Allura's prior prejudice towards me did not help.

I jumped, careful not to step on the shards of glass that were now on the floor, as I heard knocking on my door. "Keith, do you have any time for that Mothman special?" Pidge tempted to lure me out.

I barely managed to pull through coherent words, "Not right now, do you have it on recording?" And don't get me wrong, I was looking forwarded to watching it. Pidge was the only person who appreciated conspiracies to the same degree as I did. But two things made me against watching it at this particular moment of time: I didn't need a Mothman documentary to know he was real and I was in a grave, troublesome predicament.

"You sure? It's very unlikely that you of all people would be turning this down," she doubted my legitimacy.

I tried not to whimper, "Please send Lotor by," I was thinking out loud. As I felt those words painfully roll off my tongue, an instant, overwhelming sensation of regret enveloped me. Thoughts of second rate questions and accusations for the prince crossed my mind. My body stiffened at every attempt I made to ease my stress. Even though Pidge couldn't see me in my Galra form, my gut was aware that she was suspicious and it had already been inflamed with the worry of my physique portraying that of an evil, alien race.

Her voice wasn't as smug as it would typically exemplify, "Is he your new crush or something?" Her question faded off into silence; neither of us were in the mood, "I'll get him, geez."

I bit my tongue and let it loose, "You know what, I think I'll just find him on my own. It would make more sense if I did anyways. Go ahead and watch the recording without me. No spoilers." I took back my request.

"No spoilers." She repeated as she rushed down the hall to the lounge.

I moved back to the corner of my room. I dwelled on the possibility I'd be stuck Galra forever, unknowledgeable and filled with fright of how to change back. I sulked and I sighed, hitting the ceiling when adjusting my position. I hadn't gotten used to my larger stature.

I found the blade that had belonged to my mother. Taking it gently off of the end table of my room, I examined the edge with my Galran fingertip. With the tip of my mother's knife, I made a slight incision into my skin. My vision fixated on the dripping pink goo, my eyes swelling with tears. I was past the point of no return. I was Galra straight down to my blood.

It was then when my tears were still fresh and my spirts were low did an insufferable whelp and a cry of despondency assault my hearing. My cat like eyes reverted back to their previous state only after the emission of tortured decibels quieted down. Instinctively, a bountiful desire to discover the source of such a miserable resonance swaddled me.

I did my best to maneuver around the castle without having anyone see me, aware that sneaking down the halls was risky and reckless no matter the precaution I was to take. I peered into the room where the noise had come from. The dim lights flickered, revealing Shiro on his knees; his hands pulling hard at his hair. His squinted eyes indicated the extent of his heavy discomfort. I quickly moved to a corner for chance if he were to turn around.

This was without a doubt the most excruciating headache he had to endure. My pointed Galra ears were filled with his curses; I was denied the ability to zone out the subsequent screams. He had gone through this pain all on his own. No one had even come to his aid. Until I arrived.

In the grand scheme of things, everything had slowed down. Our approach to defeating Zarkon had switched from heavy combat to slowly debilitating his forces through internal invasion. So we all were practically given the divine right to let our guard down. We truly believed we were deserving of a break. But Shiro had reached his breaking point.

His migraine medication was scattered and spread across the floor. I thought of picking them up and shoving them all into his mouth to silence his yelping. I had little hope that they'd serve him any purpose with how far gone he'd become, but anything was worth an attempt even if it was meager.

My feet broke away from the glue that kept me stuck in the corner. I dashed over to him, helping him get back up on his feet. I knew I couldn't just stand by any longer.

His screams started to subside. Shiro jerked away from my touch, buckling to his knees. "Shiro?" I asked for the possibility of transporting him back to his surroundings, "I need you to tell me your name. Can you do that, Shiro?" His replies were merely grumbles.

He got weaker and weaker on his feet, I felt the weight of him as he started to limp over and sprawl across the floor. He grunted and groaned and moaned.

"Shiro, please respond!" I was afar from patheticacy. I begged for Shiro to look me in the eyes and to tell me his name. To tell me that he was alright. To tell me that I was a good brother and that this was all for show.

My emotions empowered my head as I was filled with relief as he begun to regain his strength. He made an effort to have his back be all I could view, possibly in attempt to avoid gazing upon my Galran features. He faced the wall, ignoring my presence all together. But he seemed to be stable and that was good enough for me.

The sudden change in his stance, not to mention his cries of agony concluding all of a sudden, should have been a major turn off; however, I was scatterbrained and rationality did not click with me.

Shiro eerily turned his neck to gaze into my eyes, bending it back in an inhumane manner. Once our eyes met, my stomach twisted and contorted: our eyes both happened to uphold the same translucent, yellow glow.

His right hand grabbed onto my chin as he pushed me against the wall. He dug my body into the same corner that I had hid in. I tried to move away from his powerful grip, but he was stronger than me.

He darkly whispered into my ear, black practically enveloping the atmosphere of the room, "My name?" he questioned, "My name is Kuron."

He pushed my back harder into the wall until a sharp sensation tingled at my spine, the unbearable stabbing reaching up to my head. The aching in my body was a tickle in proportion to this burning. I felt my eyes flutter shut for a blink, but then as they reopened a great fog had replaced my nearly perfect vision. My eyes were a solid, gleaming yellow and I was temporarily blind.

I felt every sting of the preternatural essence. Further, I fell into a delirious state much like Shiro. I too desired and longed for the impossible obtaining of some unearthly power. Quintessence: in this primitive state of mine, this is what I desperately craved for. My desires became my thoughts and my thoughts were what controlled me. Volition abandoned me when I needed it most.