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FIC: Access Denied [Voltron, Kuron!Shiro & the Black Lion]
Title: Access Denied
Author: Omnicat
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Dreamworks’s Voltron: Legendary Defender, seasons 1 through 3.
Warnings: None.
Characters & Relationships: Kuron!Shiro & the Black Lion
Summary: Shiro tries to talk to the Black Lion one last time. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it? // 833 words
Author’s Note: I am working off the assumption that the Shiro that appears in season 3 is a clone or something along those lines. I'm not usually comfortable writing stuff that'll be jossed so soon, but my need for Kuron to be okay is too overwhelming. ...so here's a bunch of sadness! Enjoy!
Access Denied
It was the dead of night before Shiro dared to venture near the lion hangar again. He didn’t think anyone would mind him being here and doing this, but was nonetheless glad for the privacy. This visit wasn’t about the good of the team. Maybe it would help, sure. Hopefully it would. But first and foremost, this visit was personal.
"Hey. It’s me again," he said quietly. "I’m not here to fly. Just hoping we can talk."
He settled in the pilot’s seat, curled his fingers loosely around the controls – not even gripping them; just resting them there, because anything else felt unnatural – and took a deep, grounding breath.
"About what happened when I disappeared, maybe. Or how you and Keith are getting along. Or just... just to say goodbye."
Closing his eyes, he let all distractions fade away and opened his thoughts to the Black Lion’s presence. It was like riding a bicycle. Maybe his limbs were shaky and maybe his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but this wasn’t a skill he would unlearn so easily. It had been in his blood, slumbering in his soul, just waiting to awaken. Whether he was a paladin any longer or not, having been one would never leave him.
Or so Shiro had always thought.
But minutes ticked by with no response from the Lion. Shiro was alone in the cockpit.
He opened his eyes and swallowed thickly. "Is something wrong?"
The silence hung between them like a dark curtain. No matter where he cast his mind, how deep he reached, there was no trace of the Black Lion. No shred of the bond they’d built.
"I know I’m not your paladin anymore." Hell, all the seats were taken, he wasn’t any paladin anymore. Voltron had outgrown its need for him. "I miss you already, and yes, it hurts. But I’m not here to fight you on your decision. Keith was my pick too. I have faith in him and what you two will accomplish together. I’ll support you in any way I can."
He shouldn’t have to be telling the lion all this. The bond, whatever was left of it, should have made it clear from the start. How much it was to swallow, and how determined he was to do just that. The Black Lion had never been one to demand secrets or self-denial; it required the conviction to look past your own interests, to rise above your weaknesses.
Shiro didn’t think he had faltered in that, no matter what else he had lost to his second... well.
"You found me and saved me, and maybe that means you no longer owe a has-been paladin anything. But one last moment of acknowledgment isn’t too much to ask after everything we went through together, is it?" he said. "Say something, that’s all I ask."
The Black Lion said nothing.
Something clenched in Shiro’s chest. Being dismissed would have been one thing. Being ignored like this, avoided, like the Black Lion didn’t even want them to be in the same room anymore... he didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t like the lion he’d known at all.
"I just want to know why," he whispered. "I don’t remember anything that happened after I used the bayard. I don’t understand why it happened. I don’t know where I went, what I did, what they did. Is that it? Is it that simple? My mind is too unreliable, so I’m not fit to be your paladin anymore, and because I’m no longer a paladin, I don’t deserve to know why I had to go through that again?"
His voice was hoarse. He released the controls and dragged his hands down his face.
"No, I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t be that callous. Nor that cowardly. You wouldn’t leave me in the dark out of guilt either. If it’s your fault I ended up back in Galra captivity, I forgive you, okay? And if I’m the one who screwed up, I’ll accept that. Just tell me, please! You’re the only one who can tell me anything. Anything at all."
Nothing.
Shiro buried his face in his hands.
It wasn’t the danger or the pain that broke him, it was the not knowing. The always second-guessing himself.
"What did I do so wrong to deserve this?" he asked through his fingers. "What test have I failed?"
Nothing nothing nothing nothing.
"How can I do better when I don’t know what I did wrong?"
For just a moment, he thought he felt something brush up against his mind. But the headache that had plagued him non-stop since the day he escaped chose that moment to flare up like a knife between his eyes. Groaning, he curled in on himself.
By the time he regained the ability to think through the pain and see through the purple after-images dancing in front of his eyes, the Black Lion was once again as cold and silent as the grave.
Author: Omnicat
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Dreamworks’s Voltron: Legendary Defender, seasons 1 through 3.
Warnings: None.
Characters & Relationships: Kuron!Shiro & the Black Lion
Summary: Shiro tries to talk to the Black Lion one last time. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it? // 833 words
Author’s Note: I am working off the assumption that the Shiro that appears in season 3 is a clone or something along those lines. I'm not usually comfortable writing stuff that'll be jossed so soon, but my need for Kuron to be okay is too overwhelming. ...so here's a bunch of sadness! Enjoy!
Access Denied
It was the dead of night before Shiro dared to venture near the lion hangar again. He didn’t think anyone would mind him being here and doing this, but was nonetheless glad for the privacy. This visit wasn’t about the good of the team. Maybe it would help, sure. Hopefully it would. But first and foremost, this visit was personal.
"Hey. It’s me again," he said quietly. "I’m not here to fly. Just hoping we can talk."
He settled in the pilot’s seat, curled his fingers loosely around the controls – not even gripping them; just resting them there, because anything else felt unnatural – and took a deep, grounding breath.
"About what happened when I disappeared, maybe. Or how you and Keith are getting along. Or just... just to say goodbye."
Closing his eyes, he let all distractions fade away and opened his thoughts to the Black Lion’s presence. It was like riding a bicycle. Maybe his limbs were shaky and maybe his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but this wasn’t a skill he would unlearn so easily. It had been in his blood, slumbering in his soul, just waiting to awaken. Whether he was a paladin any longer or not, having been one would never leave him.
Or so Shiro had always thought.
But minutes ticked by with no response from the Lion. Shiro was alone in the cockpit.
He opened his eyes and swallowed thickly. "Is something wrong?"
The silence hung between them like a dark curtain. No matter where he cast his mind, how deep he reached, there was no trace of the Black Lion. No shred of the bond they’d built.
"I know I’m not your paladin anymore." Hell, all the seats were taken, he wasn’t any paladin anymore. Voltron had outgrown its need for him. "I miss you already, and yes, it hurts. But I’m not here to fight you on your decision. Keith was my pick too. I have faith in him and what you two will accomplish together. I’ll support you in any way I can."
He shouldn’t have to be telling the lion all this. The bond, whatever was left of it, should have made it clear from the start. How much it was to swallow, and how determined he was to do just that. The Black Lion had never been one to demand secrets or self-denial; it required the conviction to look past your own interests, to rise above your weaknesses.
Shiro didn’t think he had faltered in that, no matter what else he had lost to his second... well.
"You found me and saved me, and maybe that means you no longer owe a has-been paladin anything. But one last moment of acknowledgment isn’t too much to ask after everything we went through together, is it?" he said. "Say something, that’s all I ask."
The Black Lion said nothing.
Something clenched in Shiro’s chest. Being dismissed would have been one thing. Being ignored like this, avoided, like the Black Lion didn’t even want them to be in the same room anymore... he didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t like the lion he’d known at all.
"I just want to know why," he whispered. "I don’t remember anything that happened after I used the bayard. I don’t understand why it happened. I don’t know where I went, what I did, what they did. Is that it? Is it that simple? My mind is too unreliable, so I’m not fit to be your paladin anymore, and because I’m no longer a paladin, I don’t deserve to know why I had to go through that again?"
His voice was hoarse. He released the controls and dragged his hands down his face.
"No, I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t be that callous. Nor that cowardly. You wouldn’t leave me in the dark out of guilt either. If it’s your fault I ended up back in Galra captivity, I forgive you, okay? And if I’m the one who screwed up, I’ll accept that. Just tell me, please! You’re the only one who can tell me anything. Anything at all."
Nothing.
Shiro buried his face in his hands.
It wasn’t the danger or the pain that broke him, it was the not knowing. The always second-guessing himself.
"What did I do so wrong to deserve this?" he asked through his fingers. "What test have I failed?"
Nothing nothing nothing nothing.
"How can I do better when I don’t know what I did wrong?"
For just a moment, he thought he felt something brush up against his mind. But the headache that had plagued him non-stop since the day he escaped chose that moment to flare up like a knife between his eyes. Groaning, he curled in on himself.
By the time he regained the ability to think through the pain and see through the purple after-images dancing in front of his eyes, the Black Lion was once again as cold and silent as the grave.