Silence in Space: (Keith x Reader) A Voltron Fanfiction

Chapter 12: Poison of the Spirit

It was very early in the morning, just past midnight. The Castle had just launched from the Balmera and continued its journey through space. For some reason, you couldn't sleep. You hadn't been able to all night. There was something that bothered you about the battle with the Drazil. In your true form, you had teeth and claws and even wings! However, when confronted by an opponent, you froze up. If Voltron hadn't interfered, the Robeast would've made short work of you. Though you knew you weren't supposed to fight, you figured you at least needed to know how to defend yourself, at least until the team could come to your rescue.

Sitting up and deciding on it, you slipped out of your bunk and grabbed your suit off the coat hook, careful not to wake Shiro, who was still sleeping peacefully. You made your way to the training deck, hoping some training would both sharpen your skills and wear you out so you could get some sleep.

However, as soon as you crossed the center of the training field, you heard metallic clunks behind you, becoming decreasingly distant. You turned around only to face a tall white and gold robot with a single blue eye charging at you with an electrified bo staff. Caught off-guard, you tried to take a stance to face it, but you tripped over your own feet and fell flat on your back.

The robot came upon you and was ready to strike you with its stick when the tip of a red sword burst out of its chest. It twitched for a few seconds, then fell over on its side and disintegrated. Behind it stood Keith, wearing his gray t-shirt and staring down at you with a skeptical stare.

"What are you doing up so late? It's two in the morning!" he asked you. "Good thing that loud clunking woke me up, or that thing would've creamed you."

You opened your mouth to speak, then hung your head in shame. It was embarrassing to fail so stupidly like this, especially in front of someone else. You muttered your thanks to Keith for saving you and stood up, starting for the door. But before you could take your leave, he caught your wrist gently but firmly in his gloved hand.

"Hold it," he stopped you. "Mind explaining why you were messing around here in the first place? And don't bother telling me you got lost, because I won't believe you."

Feeling your lip begin to stick out in a pouty manner, you turned in defeat and sighed, admitting you wanted to upgrade your defenses in case Zarkon's forces were to attack you. Keith furrowed his brow in confusion, but he seemed to understand.

"Well, you won't get that far by facing the Gladiator. That combat simulator was set at a level fit for an Altean child, but it could still do some nasty damage on you," he said, pacing back to the middle of the floor and taking a battle-ready stance. "Because the Gladiator won't be as gentle as me."

Understanding what he was getting at but privately wishing he had phrased it better, you walked to the middle and raised your fists timidly, hoping you would be able to get something out of this.

You had barely even calculated the open spots in his defenses when he sighed and stood up straight. "No, no, you've got your stance all wrong," he scolded. "If you tuck your knees together like that, your balance will collapse too easily. Keep your feet spread apart so your weight is evenly held up."

You checked your footwork and readjusted so that it was at a reasonable distance apart. However, once again, Keith was correcting you. "No, if I was going for a left hook, I wouldn't hold my arm like that." He then took your arm and guided it into a sturdier manner. For some reason, his touch made your arm tingle a lot, but you prayed he didn't feel it.

Finally, in the right stance, you rained punches on Keith, hoping you wouldn't strike him too hard. However, he managed to catch, dodge, or swat away every single one of your punches. Considering he was what Commander Iverson called "a discipline issue", you weren't that surprised.