Notes: These are drabbles based on the Whumptober 2019 prompt list (but not all published in October). The notes before each story have the relevant triggers for that drabble.
Companion Art below.
Companion Art below.
Shaky Hands
Notes: Warning: description of a caffeine addiction
Caffeine was like unicorn's blood. It gives you the power to become closer to immortality, with increased energy and productiveness, but shortens your lifespan. You get more done, but you feel a heaviness on your bones after a while, a feeling of tiredness that never goes away.
Keith stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He looked exhausted; deep bags under his eyes, pale skin, dull eyes. And he knew the others were concerned about him. He could feel their stares on his back when he left a room.
He was fine though. Sure, he felt a bone-deep tiredness, and his head sometimes felt light, and he can't get any sleep naturally anymore, but he's probably fine. The Drule kingdoms weren't going to stop so that Keith could get more sleep, and Allura won't stop sleepwalking any time soon, so he needed to be able to stay awake for as long as possible.
His hands shook. When did they start shaking? Or more accurately, when did they not shake? He's always been shaking, as if his body can't contain the energy he's getting. Or as if it's his body breaking down from what he's doing to it.
He's exhausted, burning the candle of his life by both ends. But the Drule won't stop for him. Neither will he.
Keith sighed, mindful of his shaking hands as he poured himself a cup of coffee and dumped a Red Bull in it. His time was gonna run out eventually, but he's gonna make the most of it while he's here.
Keith stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He looked exhausted; deep bags under his eyes, pale skin, dull eyes. And he knew the others were concerned about him. He could feel their stares on his back when he left a room.
He was fine though. Sure, he felt a bone-deep tiredness, and his head sometimes felt light, and he can't get any sleep naturally anymore, but he's probably fine. The Drule kingdoms weren't going to stop so that Keith could get more sleep, and Allura won't stop sleepwalking any time soon, so he needed to be able to stay awake for as long as possible.
His hands shook. When did they start shaking? Or more accurately, when did they not shake? He's always been shaking, as if his body can't contain the energy he's getting. Or as if it's his body breaking down from what he's doing to it.
He's exhausted, burning the candle of his life by both ends. But the Drule won't stop for him. Neither will he.
Keith sighed, mindful of his shaking hands as he poured himself a cup of coffee and dumped a Red Bull in it. His time was gonna run out eventually, but he's gonna make the most of it while he's here.
Explosion
Notes: Warning: graphic description of injuries and the aftermath of an explosion.
Keith and Pidge stood in the galra base on Itera, sneaking into the tech room while Lance, Hunk and Allura distracted the galra in the front. Normally, Keith would let Pidge go in on his own, but Lance was getting a bad feeling about Pidge going in alone, so Keith went along with him.
“The door’s open,” Pidge said, and they nodded at each other, Keith pulling out his blaster at the ready. He spun around ready to fire, but paused at what he saw.
The room was empty, one big console inside the only thing there. The two of them slowly entered, and jumped when the door behind them shut on them.
“Goddamn it,” Keith allowed himself one moment to swear before the screen flickered on.
Lotor’s face appeared on the screen, his arrogant grin as punchable as ever. “Hello, Pidge,” he said, the call clearly a recording. “You’ve been a thorn in my side since the beginning, blowing up my bases and messing with my technology. Well now, it’s time for you to go.”
Keith’s eyes widened as he heard steady beeping. Without a word, he grabbed Pidge, breaking through the door and throwing Pidge before the bomb went off.
The last thing he heard before the explosion was Pidge desperately shouting his name.
Pidge felt more than heard the explosion. His bones rattled, and he hit the ground hard, shrapnel grazing his arm.
He thought he was in pain, before he saw Keith.
“Keith!” Pidge shouted, and Keith tried to get up. But there were things making that difficult. His helmet was gone, who knows where by now, and he was bleeding profusely from his head and from his mouth. He was cut in a whole bunch of places by shrapnel, but what really stood out was the very large shard of metal currently impaling his stomach. Blood was dripping onto the ground as he shook from the effort of trying to get up.
Pidge scrambled over to the commander, wiggling his way under Keith’s shoulder so that some of his weight was on him. “C’mon Chief, we’ve gotta get you out of here.”
Keith shuddered, coughing blood and falling back onto the ground with a wet squelch. “Go,” he muttered. “Go get the others.”
“But what about you?!” Pidge cried, fat tears rolling down his face.
Keith just smiled, that small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be okay,” he lied. “Just go get the others.”
“Bullshit!” Pidge grabbed Keith’s arm again, hauling him up so that he leaned on Pidge’s shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you to die!”
“Pidge.” Keith pulled himself, his hands firmly on Pidge’s shoulders despite how much they shook. “The others have med kits, and you can’t carry me. Go get them. I’ll be fine.”
Pidge sobbed, but stood up, running to where the others are, hoping that he didn’t just leave his brother to die.
Keith and Pidge stood in the galra base on Itera, sneaking into the tech room while Lance, Hunk and Allura distracted the galra in the front. Normally, Keith would let Pidge go in on his own, but Lance was getting a bad feeling about Pidge going in alone, so Keith went along with him.
“The door’s open,” Pidge said, and they nodded at each other, Keith pulling out his blaster at the ready. He spun around ready to fire, but paused at what he saw.
The room was empty, one big console inside the only thing there. The two of them slowly entered, and jumped when the door behind them shut on them.
“Goddamn it,” Keith allowed himself one moment to swear before the screen flickered on.
Lotor’s face appeared on the screen, his arrogant grin as punchable as ever. “Hello, Pidge,” he said, the call clearly a recording. “You’ve been a thorn in my side since the beginning, blowing up my bases and messing with my technology. Well now, it’s time for you to go.”
Keith’s eyes widened as he heard steady beeping. Without a word, he grabbed Pidge, breaking through the door and throwing Pidge before the bomb went off.
The last thing he heard before the explosion was Pidge desperately shouting his name.
Pidge felt more than heard the explosion. His bones rattled, and he hit the ground hard, shrapnel grazing his arm.
He thought he was in pain, before he saw Keith.
“Keith!” Pidge shouted, and Keith tried to get up. But there were things making that difficult. His helmet was gone, who knows where by now, and he was bleeding profusely from his head and from his mouth. He was cut in a whole bunch of places by shrapnel, but what really stood out was the very large shard of metal currently impaling his stomach. Blood was dripping onto the ground as he shook from the effort of trying to get up.
Pidge scrambled over to the commander, wiggling his way under Keith’s shoulder so that some of his weight was on him. “C’mon Chief, we’ve gotta get you out of here.”
Keith shuddered, coughing blood and falling back onto the ground with a wet squelch. “Go,” he muttered. “Go get the others.”
“But what about you?!” Pidge cried, fat tears rolling down his face.
Keith just smiled, that small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be okay,” he lied. “Just go get the others.”
“Bullshit!” Pidge grabbed Keith’s arm again, hauling him up so that he leaned on Pidge’s shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you to die!”
“Pidge.” Keith pulled himself, his hands firmly on Pidge’s shoulders despite how much they shook. “The others have med kits, and you can’t carry me. Go get them. I’ll be fine.”
Pidge sobbed, but stood up, running to where the others are, hoping that he didn’t just leave his brother to die.
Delirium
Notes: This drabble references another fic of mine so you might want to read it in advance, and be warned. Warnings: description of caffeine withdrawal, vaguely referenced past rape/non-con.
Lance sighed, holding Keith close as he shivered next to him, despite it being fairly warm. He was fiddling with the edge of his blanket, and his eyes were glazed over, unseeing of the world in front of him.
Keith and Lance struck a deal that Lance would quit smoking if Keith quit using caffeine. The thing is, Lance quit smoking months ago, and the fact that Keith didn't notice showed just how out of it he was. He did that on purpose, because he couldn't help Keith through his withdrawal if Lance was also going through withdrawal.
Keith whimpered, burying his face into Lance's sweater. He was shaking, and Lance hugged Keith tighter, hoping that by keeping him close, he could stop Keith from seeing whatever he was seeing.
"Lance," Keith muttered, curling his shaking fingers into his sweater. "Don't let him in. Don't let him in. Please."
"Keith, he's not here," Lance muttered back, hoping it was getting through. "It's just you and me, in your room in the castle, remember?"
"I can feel his hands on me, around my neck," Keith whimpered, and Lance froze, feeling tears soaking into his sweater. "Get him off, get him away, get him out."
Keith started to thrash, and Lance quietly shushed him, running one of his hands through Keith's hair. "Jack's not here, I promise. He's dead, remember? He's gone, and is never coming back. It's just you and me in your room, okay?"
Lance's words didn't seem to be getting through, as he kept muttering to himself. So Lance pulled off his jacket, and wrapped it around Keith.
He stilled instantly, looking up at Lance with wide eyes. "Lance…"
"There, now he can't reach you, because he isn't here." He pulled Keith back into a hug, who was now calmer. "You're only seeing him because of the caffeine withdrawal. You're safe with me."
Keith was quiet for a moment, before asking quietly, "You promise?"
"I promise."
Keith sighed, falling limp onto Lance. His eyes slid shut, and soon he started snoring.
Lance wiggled, scooting them so that they were laying on the bed and so that Lance's back hurt less. He pressed a gentle kiss to Keith's hair, something he would've never done had Keith been awake, and let himself relax.
It was amazing how much Keith trusted him, even after everything that's happened to him. It only made Lance more determined to keep him safe, even if he was too much of a coward to ever admit his feelings.
As long as Keith was safe. That's what matters.
Lance sighed, holding Keith close as he shivered next to him, despite it being fairly warm. He was fiddling with the edge of his blanket, and his eyes were glazed over, unseeing of the world in front of him.
Keith and Lance struck a deal that Lance would quit smoking if Keith quit using caffeine. The thing is, Lance quit smoking months ago, and the fact that Keith didn't notice showed just how out of it he was. He did that on purpose, because he couldn't help Keith through his withdrawal if Lance was also going through withdrawal.
Keith whimpered, burying his face into Lance's sweater. He was shaking, and Lance hugged Keith tighter, hoping that by keeping him close, he could stop Keith from seeing whatever he was seeing.
"Lance," Keith muttered, curling his shaking fingers into his sweater. "Don't let him in. Don't let him in. Please."
"Keith, he's not here," Lance muttered back, hoping it was getting through. "It's just you and me, in your room in the castle, remember?"
"I can feel his hands on me, around my neck," Keith whimpered, and Lance froze, feeling tears soaking into his sweater. "Get him off, get him away, get him out."
Keith started to thrash, and Lance quietly shushed him, running one of his hands through Keith's hair. "Jack's not here, I promise. He's dead, remember? He's gone, and is never coming back. It's just you and me in your room, okay?"
Lance's words didn't seem to be getting through, as he kept muttering to himself. So Lance pulled off his jacket, and wrapped it around Keith.
He stilled instantly, looking up at Lance with wide eyes. "Lance…"
"There, now he can't reach you, because he isn't here." He pulled Keith back into a hug, who was now calmer. "You're only seeing him because of the caffeine withdrawal. You're safe with me."
Keith was quiet for a moment, before asking quietly, "You promise?"
"I promise."
Keith sighed, falling limp onto Lance. His eyes slid shut, and soon he started snoring.
Lance wiggled, scooting them so that they were laying on the bed and so that Lance's back hurt less. He pressed a gentle kiss to Keith's hair, something he would've never done had Keith been awake, and let himself relax.
It was amazing how much Keith trusted him, even after everything that's happened to him. It only made Lance more determined to keep him safe, even if he was too much of a coward to ever admit his feelings.
As long as Keith was safe. That's what matters.
Human Shield
Notes: Oh hey, it's another ambiguous ending. Warning: graphic descriptions of injuries
Keith shuddered, the damp rock of their prison cell chilling his bones. Pidge was curled up to his side, Hunk on Pidge’s other side holding him close. Lance was curled up on Keith’s other side, Sven draped on Lance’s side.
Keith’s arm still throbbed from the Drule brand.
Their quiet peace didn’t last long. The door to their cell opened, and four guards entered, pushing and dragging them up and out of the cell and through the hallways.
They were pushed into some sort of armory, given a few minutes to talk and suit up, before being thrust into the arena. They were faced with cheering galra, and a massive monster hulking in front of them.
Keith just clutched his sword close and prayed that they would all get out of there.
Pidge grit his teeth, stamping down his fear as he watched the monster lumber towards them. Clutching two daggers in his hands, he started running to the side, his training kicking in. The monster was swinging wildly, throwing rocks and debris everywhere.
Lance was shooting at the thing, although he was missing shots because he was running. Hunk had a giant hammer he was wildly swinging around, Sven was just running, looking for the right opportunity to fire, and Keith was nimbly dodging the rocks, more focused on making sure everyone was safe.
Pidge saw an opportunity, and took it, running up to stab the beast in the leg and running back. The monster roared, taking the opportunity to swing with it’s long arm, it was gonna hit him, why can’t he move-
He felt hands, shoving him to the side. The arm went right over him, hitting-
“KEITH!!”
Keith fell over, and the monster quickly moved on as Lance finally hit the damn thing. Pidge crawled over, seeing the damage it had done. Deep cuts in Keith’s chest, blood covering his chest, dripping onto the dirt floor of the arena. Pidge tried to stem the blood flow, and it stained his hands red.
“C’mon Keith, you’ll make it,” Pidge cried, his tears mixing with the blood on Keith’s chest. “You’ve gotta make it. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
Sven ran over, pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around Keith. “He’ll be alright, Pidge,” Sven said, his voice unsteady.
Hunk picked him up, and Pidge felt the rumble in his bones as the monster ate the dirt. He was covered in so much blood, and surely Keith couldn’t survive that much blood being lost?
“Pidge, didn’t you smuggle some things in here?” Sven asked, turning to him desperately. Pidge nodded, reaching into his pockets and his hair for something.
“Gauze!” Pidge threw the roll of gauze to his best friend, watching as they patched him up. He felt Lance’s hands on his shoulders, trying to reassure him, but all Pidge could see was red, everywhere.
Usually, red would be a good thing. Red was the color of their commander, of leadership, of friendship.
Now, red was the color of Keith’s death.
Keith shuddered, the damp rock of their prison cell chilling his bones. Pidge was curled up to his side, Hunk on Pidge’s other side holding him close. Lance was curled up on Keith’s other side, Sven draped on Lance’s side.
Keith’s arm still throbbed from the Drule brand.
Their quiet peace didn’t last long. The door to their cell opened, and four guards entered, pushing and dragging them up and out of the cell and through the hallways.
They were pushed into some sort of armory, given a few minutes to talk and suit up, before being thrust into the arena. They were faced with cheering galra, and a massive monster hulking in front of them.
Keith just clutched his sword close and prayed that they would all get out of there.
Pidge grit his teeth, stamping down his fear as he watched the monster lumber towards them. Clutching two daggers in his hands, he started running to the side, his training kicking in. The monster was swinging wildly, throwing rocks and debris everywhere.
Lance was shooting at the thing, although he was missing shots because he was running. Hunk had a giant hammer he was wildly swinging around, Sven was just running, looking for the right opportunity to fire, and Keith was nimbly dodging the rocks, more focused on making sure everyone was safe.
Pidge saw an opportunity, and took it, running up to stab the beast in the leg and running back. The monster roared, taking the opportunity to swing with it’s long arm, it was gonna hit him, why can’t he move-
He felt hands, shoving him to the side. The arm went right over him, hitting-
“KEITH!!”
Keith fell over, and the monster quickly moved on as Lance finally hit the damn thing. Pidge crawled over, seeing the damage it had done. Deep cuts in Keith’s chest, blood covering his chest, dripping onto the dirt floor of the arena. Pidge tried to stem the blood flow, and it stained his hands red.
“C’mon Keith, you’ll make it,” Pidge cried, his tears mixing with the blood on Keith’s chest. “You’ve gotta make it. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
Sven ran over, pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around Keith. “He’ll be alright, Pidge,” Sven said, his voice unsteady.
Hunk picked him up, and Pidge felt the rumble in his bones as the monster ate the dirt. He was covered in so much blood, and surely Keith couldn’t survive that much blood being lost?
“Pidge, didn’t you smuggle some things in here?” Sven asked, turning to him desperately. Pidge nodded, reaching into his pockets and his hair for something.
“Gauze!” Pidge threw the roll of gauze to his best friend, watching as they patched him up. He felt Lance’s hands on his shoulders, trying to reassure him, but all Pidge could see was red, everywhere.
Usually, red would be a good thing. Red was the color of their commander, of leadership, of friendship.
Now, red was the color of Keith’s death.
Stab Wound
Notes: Warning: semi-graphic description of injury, Lotor being an asshole
Keith gripped the gun in his hand, the wind whipping his hair around as he stood on the bridge. It was the middle of the night, and Lotor was trying to launch a sneak attack on the castle. He stood on the bridge over the moat to the Castle of Lions, blocking the way for Lotor to get in. He would not let Lotor get near his friends.
His other hand rested on the sword sheathed at his side, while Lotor had his sword out. But Keith held a gun and the upper advantage.
(Well, hopefully the upper advantage. The fact that he might be running on only three hours of sleep in the past week and a triple shot espresso mixed with wine and Red Bull might not be helping much.)
“Why are you here, Lotor?” Keith said, his finger definitely not twitching while it was pointed at Lotor, no really.
Lotor grinned, pointing his sword at Keith. “I’m here to capture you and all your friends, and take Allura as my wife.”
Keith glared, shifting further into his fighting stance. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
Lotor ran forwards, as Keith kept missing him as he zig-zagged (he wasn’t a shooting prodigy like Lance was, alright). Eventually, Keith just dropped the gun in frustration, pulling out his sword just in time to meet Lotor’s blade.
Lotor was, quite frankly, pathetic. His swings were wide arcs which Keith easily parried, and Keith was able to start getting jabs in, forcing Lotor on the defensive instead. He started pushing Lotor away from the Castle, remaining light on his feet and free of nicks.
Lotor swung, and Keith moved to block it. Lotor had put his weight behind it, locking the two swords in place and turning into a contest of strength. Keith was winning, but Lotor grinned, which was never a good thing-
Haggar has stabbed Keith in the belly.
Keith gasped as white hot pain erupted in his stomach, and he dropped his sword, falling to the floor as the blade slid out of his back. Blood was already pooling on the bridge, and he was pushed onto his back by Lotor’s boot.
Keith mustered up as menacing a glare as he could, despite the fact that he was laying in a pool of his own blood with Lotor’s boot on his chest.
“Haggar, I wanted to capture him, not kill him,” Lotor grumbled, glaring at the witch.
“Well, you should’ve been the one to stab him, then,” Haggar scoffed, cutting off a small lock of Keith’s hair for some reason. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter if he dies. You can capture the rest of them.”
“I suppose,” Lotor huffed, then grinned down at the man under his boot. He got up, then kicked Keith hard in the stomach, laughing at his pain.
That’s all Keith remembered when he started to black out. The pain in his stomach and their laughter.
Keith gripped the gun in his hand, the wind whipping his hair around as he stood on the bridge. It was the middle of the night, and Lotor was trying to launch a sneak attack on the castle. He stood on the bridge over the moat to the Castle of Lions, blocking the way for Lotor to get in. He would not let Lotor get near his friends.
His other hand rested on the sword sheathed at his side, while Lotor had his sword out. But Keith held a gun and the upper advantage.
(Well, hopefully the upper advantage. The fact that he might be running on only three hours of sleep in the past week and a triple shot espresso mixed with wine and Red Bull might not be helping much.)
“Why are you here, Lotor?” Keith said, his finger definitely not twitching while it was pointed at Lotor, no really.
Lotor grinned, pointing his sword at Keith. “I’m here to capture you and all your friends, and take Allura as my wife.”
Keith glared, shifting further into his fighting stance. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
Lotor ran forwards, as Keith kept missing him as he zig-zagged (he wasn’t a shooting prodigy like Lance was, alright). Eventually, Keith just dropped the gun in frustration, pulling out his sword just in time to meet Lotor’s blade.
Lotor was, quite frankly, pathetic. His swings were wide arcs which Keith easily parried, and Keith was able to start getting jabs in, forcing Lotor on the defensive instead. He started pushing Lotor away from the Castle, remaining light on his feet and free of nicks.
Lotor swung, and Keith moved to block it. Lotor had put his weight behind it, locking the two swords in place and turning into a contest of strength. Keith was winning, but Lotor grinned, which was never a good thing-
Haggar has stabbed Keith in the belly.
Keith gasped as white hot pain erupted in his stomach, and he dropped his sword, falling to the floor as the blade slid out of his back. Blood was already pooling on the bridge, and he was pushed onto his back by Lotor’s boot.
Keith mustered up as menacing a glare as he could, despite the fact that he was laying in a pool of his own blood with Lotor’s boot on his chest.
“Haggar, I wanted to capture him, not kill him,” Lotor grumbled, glaring at the witch.
“Well, you should’ve been the one to stab him, then,” Haggar scoffed, cutting off a small lock of Keith’s hair for some reason. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter if he dies. You can capture the rest of them.”
“I suppose,” Lotor huffed, then grinned down at the man under his boot. He got up, then kicked Keith hard in the stomach, laughing at his pain.
That’s all Keith remembered when he started to black out. The pain in his stomach and their laughter.
Asphyxiation
Notes: We took a short break, but we're back with the whumptober prompts. I had Hunk be Keith's buddy this time because Hunk deserves more time to shine. Trigger Warning: description of choking
Keith bolted through the castle, his gun out and his pilot suit still on. They had been out on patrol when the Castle alarm blared through the comms. He hoped they made it back in time.
He hid behind a corner, hearing a Drule wandering the halls he was about to barge into. “Capture the Voltron Force,” Lotor’s voice echoed over the comms. “Kill anyone else in your way.”
Keith hoisted his gun, stepping out and firing. It skidded on the gauntlets of the Drule, who looked like he was an officer, since he had better armor. Keith grit his teeth, continuing to fire.
The Drule officer eventually fell after a shot to the head, and Keith allowed him a moment to pause. He tensed up when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he swivelled behind him and-
A Drule officer holds Keith up around his neck while Keith struggles.
Fingers were being dug into his neck, hands squeezing the air out of him tightly. He gasped, fingers scrambling desperately against the armored gauntlets, legs desperately kicking for any purchase. His throat burned and black spots swirled around his eyes, and he could feel himself lifted off the ground-
There was a bright flash of red, and Keith crumpled, falling onto the ground and gasping for breath. His hands shook, as he wheezed for breath.
He could feel someone place a hand on his shoulder (too close to his neck) and he flinched violently, jumping around. Hunk was standing there, his hand still outstretched and his eyes wide.
“You good man?” Hunk asked, even when it was clear that Keith was clearly not okay.
Keith coughed as he tried to clear his throat. “Yeah-” his voice was rough, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Hunk raised an eyebrow, but offered a hand. Keith gratefully took it, grabbing his helmet and pistol off of the ground. He pushed aside his feelings (he could deal with the baggage that this was inevitably gonna cause later) and readied his weapon. It’s time to do his job.
Keith bolted through the castle, his gun out and his pilot suit still on. They had been out on patrol when the Castle alarm blared through the comms. He hoped they made it back in time.
He hid behind a corner, hearing a Drule wandering the halls he was about to barge into. “Capture the Voltron Force,” Lotor’s voice echoed over the comms. “Kill anyone else in your way.”
Keith hoisted his gun, stepping out and firing. It skidded on the gauntlets of the Drule, who looked like he was an officer, since he had better armor. Keith grit his teeth, continuing to fire.
The Drule officer eventually fell after a shot to the head, and Keith allowed him a moment to pause. He tensed up when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he swivelled behind him and-
A Drule officer holds Keith up around his neck while Keith struggles.
Fingers were being dug into his neck, hands squeezing the air out of him tightly. He gasped, fingers scrambling desperately against the armored gauntlets, legs desperately kicking for any purchase. His throat burned and black spots swirled around his eyes, and he could feel himself lifted off the ground-
There was a bright flash of red, and Keith crumpled, falling onto the ground and gasping for breath. His hands shook, as he wheezed for breath.
He could feel someone place a hand on his shoulder (too close to his neck) and he flinched violently, jumping around. Hunk was standing there, his hand still outstretched and his eyes wide.
“You good man?” Hunk asked, even when it was clear that Keith was clearly not okay.
Keith coughed as he tried to clear his throat. “Yeah-” his voice was rough, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Hunk raised an eyebrow, but offered a hand. Keith gratefully took it, grabbing his helmet and pistol off of the ground. He pushed aside his feelings (he could deal with the baggage that this was inevitably gonna cause later) and readied his weapon. It’s time to do his job.
Abandoned
Notes: I'm never going to add a new drabble in order ever again, just for the record. Also, two in one night?! A miracle! This is a continuation of Explosion. Trigger warnings for graphic description of injuries, vague suicidal ideation, and a lot of talk about death. Also another ambiguous ending.
Keith was on his knees, and he shook, struggling to hold himself up. It was understandable, the blood coating his suit from the shrapnel piece in his stomach. He could hear some fighting in the distance, but it sounded muffled to his ears. He could hear the licking of the flames, the blood dripping onto the ground crystal clearly.
His body gave one final shudder, before he fell to the ground, a stab of pain running through him as he hit the ground. Blood stains the ground around him, and he didn’t have the energy to get up, get off the ground, call for help.
He was alone with his thoughts. The pain had faded to a dull throbbing throughout his body, so he couldn’t focus on that. All he had was the knowledge that he was going to die.
That’s why he had sent Pidge off. Not to go get help, although that would be appreciated. The kid had already been through so much, he didn’t want Pidge to watch him die.
It hit him. He was going to die. There was nothing he could do to change that fact. And strangely, he was okay with it. It seemed that almost everything was out to kill him nowadays. The GG, the Drule, whatever random shit gets thrown at them. His own brain.
He’s plagued every night by the memories of what he’s gone through. Scars littered his body for proof. His only solace was his brothers and sister in arms, but even that was slowly waning as he threw himself into his work to cope. Honestly, with the amount of coffee and Redbulls he drank, if something else didn’t kill him that probably would.
Keith closed his eyes, letting a content smile rest on his face. If he’s gonna die, at least he’ll die knowing that it’s not Pidge in his place. Knowing that he’s leaving the world a better place than he entered it.
Keith was on his knees, and he shook, struggling to hold himself up. It was understandable, the blood coating his suit from the shrapnel piece in his stomach. He could hear some fighting in the distance, but it sounded muffled to his ears. He could hear the licking of the flames, the blood dripping onto the ground crystal clearly.
His body gave one final shudder, before he fell to the ground, a stab of pain running through him as he hit the ground. Blood stains the ground around him, and he didn’t have the energy to get up, get off the ground, call for help.
He was alone with his thoughts. The pain had faded to a dull throbbing throughout his body, so he couldn’t focus on that. All he had was the knowledge that he was going to die.
That’s why he had sent Pidge off. Not to go get help, although that would be appreciated. The kid had already been through so much, he didn’t want Pidge to watch him die.
It hit him. He was going to die. There was nothing he could do to change that fact. And strangely, he was okay with it. It seemed that almost everything was out to kill him nowadays. The GG, the Drule, whatever random shit gets thrown at them. His own brain.
He’s plagued every night by the memories of what he’s gone through. Scars littered his body for proof. His only solace was his brothers and sister in arms, but even that was slowly waning as he threw himself into his work to cope. Honestly, with the amount of coffee and Redbulls he drank, if something else didn’t kill him that probably would.
Keith closed his eyes, letting a content smile rest on his face. If he’s gonna die, at least he’ll die knowing that it’s not Pidge in his place. Knowing that he’s leaving the world a better place than he entered it.