shining like the stars

61

Shiro sat with his shoulders pressed back to the wall, staring blankly across the cell. His helmet sat on the floor beside him, aside from that there was nothing at all else in the holding cell. Just slick walls that met a solid roof well above his head, and the good old fashioned bars that crossed the far side. No fancy plasma or translucent energy fields here; just solid metal bars far enough apart for him to get an arm and a shoulder through.

Keith stood on the other side of the bars and watched him silently. His shoulders were bunched and his arms folded and his ears — god, Shiro couldn't even look at him properly, his large purple ears were back. Purple ears because Keith was purple

Galra.

The sound of keys in the lock drew his attention for a moment, and he watched Keith — was he Keith, now? Shiro wasn't even sure any more — as he stepped into the holding cell and waved off the guard with one hand. Shiro got to his feet slowly and kept his back to the wall, watching as Keith was distracted, his ear turned to the guard's location, before he looked back at Shiro.

They stood in silence for too long. It wasn't going to be Shiro who broke it.

Finally, Keith took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "You were never meant to find out like this." It was still Keith's voice. Shiro felt the flame of anger in his chest, he wasn't meant to find out? "It must be because we're inside my memory, but I can't make them go away," Keith was still talking, almost rambling desperately, waiting for Shiro to pass some pronouncement, respond, do anything other than stand there silently and watch him. He touched the tip of one ear absently, never quite bringing his eyes to rest on Shiro's face, keeping them down-turned, low. Ashamed.

Which meant he didn't have time to react as Shiro crossed the cell in two quick strides and caught him by the throat. Keith's eyes - gold, almost glowing, the same sort of eyes Shiro had seen in his nightmares - gone wide with surprise as he slammed Keith back into the bulkhead wall, arm over his his throat, his own Galra arm beginning to glow purple with heat. Enemy. Enemy eyes, enemy coloring-

Keith didn't struggle against his hold, and Shiro breathed raggedly, felt this tight knot of pain and rage and fear settle in his chest as he held Keith against the wall — and it was Keith, it was he could recognize the scent of him this close. It was different, laced through with adrenaline and more bitter, but it was Keith, the same Keith he'd claimed, he'd bonded. His mate.

"Did you ever," Shiro said, his voice cold and level, "lie to me? Lie to us?"

Keith shook his head as well he could, his voice ragged. "No, no — Shiro I'd never, I didn't tell you about who I am, but I didn't lie either, I promise I didn't-"

"Have you betrayed us?" Shiro said, and his voice broke just a little on that word. "How long have you been with them, Keith? How long?"

"I don't-" Keith's voice choked a little and he squirmed for the first time, Shiro's arm pressed tight over his windpipe. "I didn't, I don't belong here, I'm not one of them-!"

"You sure as hell look like it to me!" Shiro looked away for a second, toward the bars of the prison cell, expecting any moment for an armed guard to come running and rescue poor Keith from his grip. When there was no obvious sound of guards coming, he looked back at Keith; whose face was still familiar, even under the purple fur and golden eyes. "How do I know I can trust you," Shiro said finally, helplessly.

Keith let out a broken noise and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm the red paladin, Shiro," he said, finally. "Do you really think that Red would have let me anywhere near her if she thought I was going to betray you?"

"You could have tricked her, overridden the lion's command somehow — she was in a Galra ship, how do I know that they didn't just give her to you?" He knew, he knew that what Keith was saying made sense but that didn't change the hurt, the anger. "How am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

Keith's ears were so far back that he could imagine for a moment he couldn't see their profile in his dark hair. Small slivers of gold peeked out from under his eyelids, but Keith did not bring his yellow eyes up to Shiro's face, did not view the devastation caused by his next statement. "Because you love me," Keith said softly. "And you know that I love you."

Shiro slammed his right hand into the wall and Keith did flinch, but then he released his hold on Keith's neck and stormed across the cell. He stared at the opposite wall in anger and tried to find that calm he knew he had, somewhere inside. "That's dirty pool," Shiro said finally.

"It's true," Keith said softly. There was a soft clunk as his back hit the wall again and that made Shiro look back at him, watching silently as Keith supported himself against the opposite wall, as if bearing the brunt of Shiro's emotion had taken everything out of him. "I'm sorry," Keith said again, fingers curled against the wall, head turned away.

Shiro inhaled deeply and looked down at his right hand; with the arm deactivated he could no longer see the prosthetic underneath his paladin armor. He cold feel it, though; that cold, dead weight against him; the very minimal amount of feedback it got compared to his left hand — the utter agony as it was attached to him devoid of anesthetic, wired in directly to his nerves. That wasn't Keith's fault, none of it was ... but he was Galra, and that was hard-wired to be an enemy. His enemy.

With an insane amount of effort, Shiro relaxed his shoulders and turned. Keith was still standing against the wall, one shoulder leaned into it, arms curled protectively over his chest, and trembling. If he was really your enemy, he has you at his mercy. You're the one being held captive here, not him.

"You're right," he said finally, dragging the words out. "The Red Lion never would have chosen you if you'd meant us ill."

Keith lifted his head and looked over at Shiro, hardly daring to hope. He was struck again by the gold eyes and it made him shiver, but then Keith looked away just as quickly. "Do you hate me?" he asked quietly, his ears peeking up over his hair hopefully.

"I hate the Galra," Shiro said, without hesitation.

There was no 'but' tacked on to the end of that sentence.