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#HOLOGRAMS I CAN REACH OUT AND TOUCH WHILE WATCHING MY SILLY VIDEOS!!!!!!!!!!!
ashinan · 7 years
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again I went the sappy soft route because Keith’s birthday deserves soft, that boy deserves all the soft, so please enjoy this offering to the Voltron fandom. happy bday, space sweetheart.
home isn’t a place
The mission had gone well for once; Keith had slipped under the radar and planted the bug before the sentries had completed their second rotation. All information was being forwarded to the Blade. The trip back to the base was equally quiet, Keith settling in his seat as he set the flyer to autopilot. Another day, another mission, another stretch of time where Keith was left alone with his thoughts. Biting his lip, he flicked on the console, feeding it through a proxy before selecting the Voltron Coalition promotional videos.
The volume was muted, but Keith knew the words anyway. He’d watched the vids near obsessively, though it did little to fill the ache in his chest at acknowledging his team moving on without him. Shiro leapt into frame, striking a silly pose, and Allura followed after. The sequence was one well known: they would soon pick up the boxed forms of the Voltron Lions and defeat a papier-mâché Zarkon. Flashes of light flared across the screen. Keith tucked his feet up on the seat, chin resting on his knees as he took in his team. Exuberant. Content. Hilarious.
He scrubbed at his eyes.
The ship docked with a quiet hum and Keith shut everything down, wiping the consoles and tugging up his hood. As he swung down, Vrei was waiting for him, leaning against the far wall. Her hood was down, the sharp contours of her face cast primarily in shadow and elongating her nose. She’d decided on a slick salt and pepper Mohawk apparently. She perked up when Keith approached her.
“How’d it go, shortstuff?” she asked, reaching out for the data stick Keith handed her. “Injuries? Fatalities? Vex was surprised when everything remained quiet on the emergency comms.”
“Ha ha,” Keith deadpanned, smiling beneath his mask. Vrei ran her claws under Keith’s hood, scratching at the crown of his head, and Keith leaned into it. “Everything was fine. That should be enough data to tide Kolivan over for at least a few days.”
Vrei chuckled, tapping Keith’s hidden nose. “Have you learned nothing, kit? Leader is never satisfied. He’s always finding ways to make us more miserable.”
Tugging Keith along with her, Vrei led him further into the base. Other Blades wandered by, greeting them both with soft words or nonverbal nods. Vrei kept up a one-sided conversation, her voice low and calming, enough that Keith swayed more than once as fatigue settled in. Vrei caught him by the back of the neck, tucking him close to her side as she continued to talk, the rumble of her voice settling over Keith like a blanket.
The Blade sleeping quarters were close by. Vrei steered them toward it, even as Keith protested over missing the briefing. She scoffed at him, cuffing him gently, before offering to take the information to Kolivan herself. It wasn’t often that Keith was grateful for a break, too afraid of his own thoughts to truly want for quiet, but he leaned against Vrei in thanks. She laughed, pleased and purring.
Pausing at Keith’s assigned quarters, Vrei tugged the hood down and tapped at Keith’s forehead. The mask dematerialized. “Let’s get a look at that pretty face.” She tilted his chin up, glowing eyes scanning his features for anything damaged. Keith allowed it, clenching his jaw to stifle a yawn. Satisfied, Vrei nodded. “Now, there’s a comm and package in there for you, came in on the wire while you were undercover. Get some sleep, and for star’s sake take a shower. We’ll see you at meal prep.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, smiling when Vrei dropped her nose to Keith’s forehead before shoving him gently toward the door. It swished open, the dark interior fuzzily lit, before sliding closed behind him.
The Blade had provided him with quarters fit for Galra, not for humans. Well, not the human that Keith pretended to be. In the far corner was a makeshift ‘bed’, a collection of blankets and stuffed pillows that Keith had assembled into something comfortable. The Blade slept with small comforts, though Vrei and Vex had actively collected blankets and pillows from the other Blade members to gift to Keith when he’d first arrived. The gesture had endeared Keith to the both of them.  
Along the side wall near the refreshing room were a series of buttons and sliding panels, housing multiple Blade suits, the soft training outfits, and the only remaining clothes Keith had brought with him. Placed on one of the haphazardly arranged pillows was a comm unit, and beside it a sizeable metal container, tall enough that Keith would have to hop to sit on it.  
Sighing, Keith flopped down onto the bed, picking up the comm unit. If it was Kolivan sending him out again, then there was no point changing just yet. Swiping through to the messages, he scrolled by the general reports from other Blade, searching for anything from Kolivan. Instead, his fingers froze over a message from Voltron.
Sitting up, Keith opened it and tilted the comm unit down, allowing the holo projection to appear in front of him. Hunk and Pidge appeared first, faces too close and squished side by side, before Pidge shoved at Hunk’s cheek and the two of them stepped back. Lance squirmed his way into view. Shiro rolled his eyes behind the three of them, Allura at his side, and Coran yelled from somewhere off frame. With a sigh, Shiro yanked everyone into place, enough that the screen was viewing them all.
Keith scrubbed at his eyes again, balancing the comm unit on his knees as Coran slipped in beside Allura and they all shouted a greeting. Keith smiled, giddy warmth blooming beneath his breastbone. They talked over each other, voices a cacophonous mess that rang in Keith’s ears and settled his muddy thoughts, kicking his heart up. Pidge leapt forward, grabbing the camera and swinging it to her face.
“Listen, Keith, you have to tell Lance that he can’t keep running Red into asteroid fields. She’s going to eject him.”
“She is not!” Lance snapped, shoving Pidge down and out of sight. Her squawk of rage was muffled. “She loves me just as much as Blue does, thank you very much. But dude, dude, she is fast as hell. How you keep up is beyond me.”
Keith laughed, pulling the screen closer. His friends talked over each other, run on sentences bumping into fractured name calling coalescing into everyone just babbling about what Keith had missed. Shiro stood behind them all, a soft smile on his face as his gaze bounced from the group to meet Keith’s eyes, giving a slight wink when Hunk and Lance argued over the finer points of Lion tailgating. Keith reached up and touched the hologram, exhaling sharply when his fingers slid through and the image wavered. It distorted further as his gaze blurred; he dropped his head, hiding his eyes as he listened.
“We’ve sent you a package,” Allura said, talking over the squabble of Pidge, Lance, and Hunk. Keith glanced up. “Apologies, a ‘care’ package. We hope you enjoy it.”
“I threw in some puzzles and baked you some things. Hopefully, they’ve kept.” Hunk lifted a hand, counting off. “Cookies, a cake of some sort, those weird veggie stalks you’re into – oh! I found some seasoning and oils and managed to make some chip like combination. They’re killer.”
Pidge popped up. “Video games. Hunk and I finagled together a portable system with some of the older Earth games. It should keep you from getting too bored between missions and help keep you from becoming all work, no play. We know how you get.”
“General care products,” Lance drawled, hanging between Pidge and Hunk. “You’re stupid bad at actually taking breaks, my dude, but you gotta try the stuff I sent you. It will change your life, I promise.”
Shiro stepped forward, placing a hand on Pidge’s head. “There are a few extra items in there from all of us, just things to show we’re still thinking of you. We hope your missions are going all right.” Shiro’s voice dropped, soft and wistful. “We miss you around here. Come visit when you can, okay? You’re always welcome home.”
Ducking his face down, Keith thumbed over the hologram, uncaring as it wobbled. Home. The image froze on all their faces, open and earnest and loving, tinged blue and smiling for Keith. He smiled back, wiping at his wet cheeks as he laughed. His chest was warm, the hollow ache filled and covered completely.
Hitting replay, he balanced the comm unit on a pillow and stood, poking at the metal container. As Lance and Hunk went into the particulars about a move they used on a Galra fleet that caused a chain reaction, the container opened with a hiss of displaced air. Wrenching the top off, Keith removed the bumper sheet.
Quietly, reverently, Keith unpacked the box. When the recording stopped, he restarted it, drowning in the humming cadence of his friends’ voices. Inside, he found Hunk’s gifts, puzzles of various colours and sizes, containers filled to the brim with fresh baked goods and recipe cards in case Keith wanted to recreate them. He popped a chip into his mouth, groaning in surprise as barbeque exploded over his tongue. He shoved three more into his mouth before wiping his fingers off on his suit.
The console Pidge talked about was tucked into an incredibly soft towel, its pattern a vibrant red slashed with black accents. The console was palm sized and compact, but when unfolded amounted to a screen about the size of a small TV with a holographic keyboard. Pidge hadn’t been kidding about the games: there were over six hundred and thirteen titles. Each game was completed with a high score and Pidge’s name. Keith grinned. Challenge accepted.
Lance’s gift was wrapped up in an elegant gift basket, tied with a ribbon and crinkly tissue paper. Rolling his eyes, Keith sliced through the thin paper with his knife, startling at the flood of scent that immediately rushed him: trees after rain, fruity bubble bath, a woodfire crackling. Breathing in deep, Keith dropped the basket on the bed and dug out the rest of Lance’s items. A robe made of silken fabrics and brilliant red, a strange device that Lance had scribbled ‘FEET’ on, and a small shaving and haircut kit.
Beneath, blankets pillowed the bottom. When Keith yanked them free, he was startled into recognizing his own blanket from his room back on the Castle. A single pillow, fluffy and slightly indented, rolled out onto the bed. His pillow. His favourite one. Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, Keith arranged the pillow into his makeshift bed, squishing his fist into the material and laughing dizzily.  
Once satisfied, Keith peered into the bottom of the container. There were a series of smaller boxes, arranged carefully. Unpacking each was an adventure, Keith nearly toppling into the crate as he unearthed each one. The packages were tied off with different coloured ribbons, likely symbolizing each Paladin. There was another box, thing and long, at the very bottom. Deciding ‘fuck it’, he leapt into the container and tossed it out, snickering at the image he likely made. Shiro would get a kick out of it for sure.
Climbing out of the container, he settled back on the bed, tucking his blanket beneath his thighs as he collected the gifts. He started with the green one, tearing into it and finding a small earpiece placed delicately upon foam material. A note was attached to it from Pidge, scrawled instructions that Keith glanced over before fitting the ear piece in. A thin holographic appeared over his right eye, frequencies scrolling by. She’d gifted him an encrypted space cell phone.
The yellow gift was heavy and tall, enough that Keith had to rise to his knees just to rip it open. Inside were holopads upon holopads, and a small machine with a note from Hunk attached to it. Glancing over it, Keith raised a brow and removed his knife from its sheath, dropping it into the machine with aplomb. It beeped, the top closing, and hummed quietly while Keith waited. When it was complete, the machine beeped again, top opening. The blade was pristine. Only Hunk would develop a blade cleaning machine. Keith chuckled.
The blue and pink ribboned gift was smaller, though no less bulging. When Keith opened it, blankets popped out, spilling over his lap. The fabric was ridiculously warm, thick and comfortable. The note was a mixture of Allura and Lance’s style, sentences running over each other, but the sentiment was the same: space was cold and Keith needed proper insulation. His heart warmed.
The final gift, the thin, black box, Keith unwrapped carefully. Inside was a smaller box and a shimmering blade made of silver hued metal. The sword was double edged and gleaming, ending in a wicked tip. Gold accents burnished the metal; purple and gold fabric twined around the handle. Keith’s mouth went dry. Gently, he drew his fingers over the side of the blade, expecting the cut but only finding a dull edge. Decorative, likely, but could be used if sharpened. Excited, Keith hefted the blade, dazed by the balance and ease with which it settled in his palm. He settled it in the cushy blanket and picked up the smaller box, shaking it slightly.
When he pulled the black ribbon aside, Shiro’s note was the first thing he saw. Beneath it were a series of packages, all garbled with alien languages. Glancing over the note, he laughed at Shiro’s rambling excitement about alien rations that didn’t taste like sawdust bound with Elmer’s glue, as well as the second request for Keith to come home. As he dug through the package, eyebrow raised at some of the pictures on the labels, his fingers brushed hard glass. Tossing most of the ration packages beside him, he unearthed four small glass frames.
Frames with pictures.
Gently, Keith ran his fingers over the edges of the glass. Each picture was of him with another Paladin: caught between Lance and Hunk hugging him, Pidge on his back demanding rides, Allura pushing his mouth up to make him smile. Shiro with his arm wrapped around Keith’s neck, tugged close and head thrown back in laughter. His fingers shook. Stars above, he missed them. His friends. His family.   
Sucking in a breath and shoving his palms against his eyes to halt the tears, Keith collected himself. Once he was certain of his composure, he reached for the comm unit. Clicking over to a reply vid, he set it up so that his face was no longer in shadow, the blanket clear on his shoulder. Contentment softened the bruises beneath his eyes. With his gifts around him, he hit record and smiled.
“Thanks for the message and the presents, guys. I miss you all too.”
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