This is a prequel to one of my other fics, desert born! You can definitely read this one without having read that one, since again, prequel. This is from the POV of Keith's father- for whom I've seen the name Heath being floated around for, so I just went with that. Also, since I started desert born before season 6 aired, there's some stuff in here that was later proven false by it- but I made the choice to stick with it and not retcon what was different, but hey, AU, right?

Anyways, have at it!

I'll be writing a companion fic, stellar blessing, to go along with this one at some point that's from Krolia's perspective!

desert blessing

"I am with child."

In hindsight, it was a miracle he didn't choke to death, right then and there.

It took him longer than he'd like to admit to recover, searching for some sign that Krolia was joking. She looked dead serious, if not a little bewildered.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." She told him, her voice resolute, leaving no room for doubt, as she placed a hand over her stomach. "I have not had my cycle in two months, and now I feel something stir."

Right. Okay. This was- this was big. Sure, he knew he and Krolia had been doing the ah, horizontal tango for awhile now, but he hadn't thought that they could even have a child.

She was an alien, for Pete's sake.

"I'm gonna be a dad." He heard himself mutter. "I'm gonna- you're sure?"

There was something fond in the way her brows wrinkled at his repeated question. "Yes. I am sure."

A dad.

He was gonna be a dad. He was gonna be the father of a child. A half-alien child.

More than a little dazed, Heath rose to his feet, hearing himself let out a laugh. "That's- that's great, Krolia. This is... wow."

"Wow is an excellent word for this situation." Krolia observed, and he wondered how she could remain so calm. Probably that staunch military training of hers, but still. "I believe we will have much to discuss."

"I- yeah, that's fer sure." He said. "But first," wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close in an embrace, burying his head in her hair, "-I think we need to celebrate."

"I could not agree more."

They named him Keith.

Krolia had wanted to name him Yorak, which he was sure was a perfectly fine name for a Galra. But they were on Earth, and on Earth, Yorak was the kind of name that would plague a kid for the rest of their years, and under no circumstances was he letting his son suffer that fate.

For all that he was half-alien, it didn't really show. Neither he nor Krolia knew what to expect, but nobody would be able to tell Keith wasn't fully human just by looking at him. He'd breathed a sigh of relief, because he didn't know what he'd do if he came out purple.

Not that he'd love him any less if he was. God no. Just that it would make things difficult.

Sure, he was a little weird. Babies weren't normally born with a full set of teeth, which Krolia assured him was quite normal for a Galra, though Keith's were blunt, unlike hers. They also weren't normally born within five months- too long for a Galra baby, but way too short for a human child.

Thankfully, Keith turned out just fine.

A little on the small side, especially from Krolia's perspective, but fine. Healthy as a babe could be, according to his doctor, once he finally taken him in for his first checkup. He might have had to fudge Keith's age a little bit on the forms, but it was only by a couple of months.

He still remembers taking him to see the blue lion for the first time. He doubted that Keith understood just what it was that he was looking at- in fact, he was pretty sure he didn't. No, kid his age? He was probably just entranced by the pretty lights of its particle barrier. He cooed and touched it, entranced by the way it slightly shifted under his tiny hands.

"According to legends," Krolia told him, "-the blue lion is the most maternal."

He remembers arching a brow, sounding bemused. "So yer sayin' it likes kids?"

Turning to look up at him, Krolia just gave him one of those smiles. "Yes."

He'd just shrugged his shoulders. He knew better than to dispute her when it came to alien warships, seeing as she was the alien. If she said it liked kids, then it liked kids.

It was a happy time.

But it didn't last.

They had tried, so hard, to make it work. In the end, the reason it all fell apart had nothing to do with either of them- and everything to do with the Galra Empire. They found the blue lion for a second time, and this time, Krolia knew that she couldn't remain.

If they found it twice, then surely, they would find it a third time.

He didn't want her to go, but he knew that he couldn't stop her. He saw her off, watching as her ship faded into the horizon, until it became a dot so small, that he couldn't even see it anymore.

She was gone.

He still remembers how Keith cried for his mother, not understanding that she was gone. She had left while he slept, not wanting to disturb him. Or maybe because she knew if she waited until he woke, she wouldn't be able to make herself leave.

He didn't know.

With Krolia gone, there was no point in living out in the shack any longer. In the first place, it was just a small research shack, not meant to be lived in. He'd just ended up staying there while Krolia recovered from the crash, and had never quite gotten around to moving out. He'd always planned on expanding it, making it into a real home, but just had never gotten around to it.

Probably a good thing.

He could get housing at the Garrison, but he decided against it. Something about bringing a half-alien kid to live on base didn't sound like the best idea. Instead, he got an apartment in town, with a spare bedroom for when Keith got old enough to want one of his own.

Krolia was gone, and there wasn't a darn thing he could do about it. What he could do was raise their son, let him grow into a man that she'd be proud of.

She told him that if she ever got the chance to come back, she would take it. He believed her. He knew how weary of war she was- she'd been embroiled in it for a long time, probably longer than he'd even been alive.

She'd come back one day. For them.

He still remembers the day Keith got sick.

What started as a slight cough and the occasional shiver had escalated into full blown chills by the evening. In spite of the warm climate in which they lived, it seemed like there was nothing he could do warm him up, Keith's tiny three year old body growing steadily colder. He'd tried bundling him in blankets, turning the heat up at full blast- but still he shivered, his small body trembling.

His body temperature was dropping.

He waned in and out of consciousness, crying while he was awake, and shaking when he wasn't. He'd had to get the doctor to do a house call, but even he was at a loss.

Nothing he gave him seemed to work, not even the heating pad. At this point, he was at his wit's end, before he was struck by a dreadful realization.

Keith wasn't fully human.

It was that thought that sent him scrambling to his desk, tearing through it until he found what Krolia had left for him. They had spent hours, days, pouring over what they knew about human and Galra children, respectively, writing it all down. Keith was going to be born into this world a hybrid, and they needed to be prepared for that, and everything it entailed. Frantically flipping through the manual, Heath froze, coming to the section on Galra diseases.

"They're rare," Krolia had told him in no uncertain terms, "-and usually fatal."

Night chills.

He didn't know how Keith had managed to catch it, but it fit, exactly. He wished that being able to put a name to it gave him some relief, but it didn't nothing of the sort. His son, his only son, had come down with an alien sickness.

One which there was only a thirty three percent survival rate for. And that was for adults.

There was nothing human medicine could do for him. He could have sworn in that instant, that he felt a pit of despair form, threatening to swallow him up. But he didn't let it. He refused.

There had to be something he could do.

And there was.

There was, but...

...if he used that, there would be no coming back from it.

"...dad?"

Keith's weak voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Dropping the manual, he instantly made his way to his son's side, kneeling in front of him. His eyes were glazed over, as if he were looking at him from a distance.

"Hey buddy," forcing himself to put on his best smile, Heath reached out, taking his hand, "-how ya feeling?"

"Cold."

Not letting his smile falter was damn near the hardest task he'd ever had to do, and he was a pilot. "Yeah? You want another blanket?"

For a moment, Keith didn't respond, instead burying himself deeper in the ones he already had, piled up like a nest. "Heavy."

Ruffling his hair, Heath tried not to think about how cold his son's tiny hand was in his. "You want to try and eat some soup, maybe? I've got your favorite."

Keith just shook his head. "...not hungry."

He'd been losing his appetite too. That was another cause for concern. Another symptom that fit.

"How 'bout I come in there with you?" Heath asked. "I could tell you a story."

Keith seemed to think about it, before slowly nodding his head. "Okay."

Giving his son a smile, Heath carefully climbed into his bed with him, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him. Even under the layers of winter clothes, he still felt as cold as could be, and he knew if left unchecked, it would only get worse. According to what Krolia had wrote down, supposedly the chills would subside in four days, but he just didn't know if Keith had that much fight in him.

Not when he was already this cold.

Not when he might get even colder.

But right now, his son was awake, and needed him. He'd think about what to do after that.

Halfway through the story, Keith fell back asleep.

He didn't wake up again after that.

At this point, he knew he had a decision to make. He could take his chances and take Keith to a hospital, in hopes that they could find some way to help him there. But that was a gamble- thus far, he'd kept Keith safe by keeping him away from doctors as much as possible- that he'd called on one before was just how desperate he'd gotten.

He looked human enough on the surface, but he couldn't guarantee how deep that went. If someone were to notice something...

Even worse, there was the chance that the doctors might be able to do nothing to help. Thus far he had tried every trick he could think of to keep Keith's body temperature up, so he'd be surprised if they had an idea he hadn't at this point. Curing him was out of the question, not when this was an alien disease.

Keith was a tough kid, but he didn't know if he had enough fight to pull through this on his own. Already his body temperature was too law- the only thing keeping him from outright panicking was the fact that it was still within the safe range for Galra.

He had one other option.

Staring down at the vial in his hands, Heath narrowed his eyes. It was an option that he never thought he would have to entertain- no, one he wished he would never have to.

Thanks to Krolia, he was familiar with the stuff. Quintessence, she had called it. From the sound of it, it could do a hell of a lot, but chief among them was that it could heal.

But there were consequences.

Krolia had salvaged this vial from her scout ship, shortly after she had crashed. She hadn't used it on herself- she tried to avoid it, if at all possible. Using it too much could create a dependency, but it was safe enough if used sparingly.

It wasn't dependency he was worried about. For a half-Galra like Keith, it was impossible to say what the side effects might be. Krolia had once warned him that there was a chance it might unlock some kind of change in Keith, and had cautioned him to only use it in the case of a major emergency. Worst case scenario, it might fail to help him at all.

But it was still the best chance he got.

What else was he supposed to do? Just let his son die?

Drawing in a long breath, Heath looked up, fixing his gaze on his son. Even in his sleep, his shivers did not subside. He'd pulled through the night, but how much more of this could he really take?

He'd just have to accept the consequences, whatever they might be.

"Dad?"

He hadn't even realized he'd dozed off until he felt the hand tugging at his sleeve. Keith's hand.

Snapping his eyes open, Heath woke with a jolt. It earned him a faint meep of surprise from his son, who probably hadn't expected him to move that quickly. Exhaling, he felt his shoulders slump, sinking back into the chair he had set up by Keith's bedside.

"Keith-" looking up at his son, he felt his words die in his mouth, "...keith?"

The child that stared back at him was, without a doubt, his son. The black hair that curled around his neck was still the same, all his facial features just the same as he remembered them.

But he was also purple.

Purple, with deeper violet markings on his cheek, just like his mother. He'd always had his mother's eyes, but now his sclera were yellow too, much as Krolia's had been. Even his ears had changed shape, elongating and tipping off in points, though they lacked the secondary lower point that his mother's possessed.

Heck, he'd even grown claws.

Consequences.

But more importantly- no, most importantly- Keith was looking straight at him, eyes clear of any haze. He'd even squirmed out of some of the extra clothes that he'd lumped on him, down to just a sweat stained t-shirt. He wasn't shivering.

When he touched his hand, it was warm.

Compared to that, nothing else mattered.

"Hey buddy," cracking a smile, Heath curled his hand around his son's, "-how ya feelin'?"

Holding up his hands for him to see, Keith looked up at him. "Purple."

Unable to help himself, Heath let out a loud burst of laughter. Ruffling his hair, he drew Keith close to him, burying him in his chest. His son might look different now, but he was still his son.

That hadn't- and would never- change.

He moved them back into the shack.

He took a hiatus from work. Under the circumstances, nobody dared stop him. They were all under the impression that he'd just lost his son, and just needed some time to himself.

What he really needed was time to expand the shack. If they were going to be living here now, it would sorely need it.

The first thing he finished was the bathroom- which he'd already halfway finished when he'd been living here with Krolia anyways. Getting running water out here wouldn't be a problem, so long as he kept the cistern filled. He knew where to find it, too- there was an underground river that ran through the cave where the blue lion rested, one that was kept pure by its presence.

He didn't quite understand how that worked, but he didn't much care either.

The next was the kitchen. They couldn't just spend the rest of their lives eating microwave meals, not when Keith was still growing. His transformation thankfully hadn't seemed to effect his taste buds in any meaningful way, nor did it cause some kind of sudden change in his diet, for which he was thankful.

He had fangs like his mother, but even Krolia had been an omnivore- even if he had caught her snacking on a live lizard or two back in the day.

The last to come was the bedroom, which he'd built with Keith in mind. He could share the couch with him for now, but he wouldn't always be this small, able to just snooze away on top of him. He for one, didn't mind the couch, so the bed was for Keith. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but construction materials were expensive, even on a pilot's salary.

Plus carpentry wasn't exactly his strongest skill set.

At least the place looked a bit more like a home now.

Keith took to the move with the kind of wide-eyed fascination that only a toddler could muster. He followed after him like a shadow, any trace of his life threatening illness a thing of the past. While he worked on a project, Keith would sit by him, watching with wide eyes. He taught him the names of his less dangerous tools, and recruited him as his assistant, which thrilled the kid.

Sure, all he was doing was handing him stuff- but to a three year old, that was the picture perfect definition of helping.

He hadn't told Keith the reason for their move just yet. He knew he'd have to eventually- he was a smart kid, he'd probably figure it out on his own. The last thing he wanted was for Keith to get the wrong idea.

Out here in the desert, away from prying eyes, there would be no one to pay heed to a purple child. It had nothing to do with shame- if he had the confidence that nothing bad would happen to him, he'd take Keith to town right now, show him off to the world, purple and all.

This was his son, and he loved him. Damned what anyone else thought.

But he didn't have that confidence.

Maybe he wasn't an authority on Galra, but he knew humans. And he knew that there were plenty who feared what they couldn't understand- and a purple half-alien child very squarely fell within that category. Right now, this was the only thing he could think of to keep Keith safe.

It wouldn't last forever. He knew that. Keith would grow up someday, want to go out into the world, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop him when he did.

But for now, he could protect him.

Sure, the desert was dangerous. But so were people. He'd rather take his chances with coyotes than a bunch of lab coats. So long as he taught Keith what he needed to know to survive, he'd be fine.

Like he said, the kid was smart.

Thanks to the generator Krolia left behind, he didn't have to worry about the shack losing power. They could stay off the grid for effectively the rest of their lives if they had to. He got himself a PO box in town, where he could pick up any mail he needed. If he needed to use the Internet, he could do that there too.

But he never left Keith alone for long.

"Dad?"

Pausing the DVD on his laptop, Heath glanced down at his son. He was sitting in his lap, hands resting on his knees. "Yeah, kiddo?"

Looking up at him, Keith's brows furrowed together. A faint yellow film had started to form over his eyes as of late, but it didn't seem to be hindering his vision any, so he just left it be. "Why'm purple?"

Frankly, he was just surprised it had taken him this long to ask.

"'cause yer mother was." He told him, in absolute honesty. He hadn't been planning on telling him about Krolia until he got older, but clearly, plans had changed.

Nodding his head, Keith accepted that explanation for the time being.

The older he got, the more questions he'd have. He'd keep the whole truth from Keith for as long as he could- he wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to tell him that his mother came from a race of conquerors, but keeping it from him didn't feel right either.

The last thing he wanted was for some bad Galra to come down, and take Keith away. He was pretty confident that his kid would be able to recognize right and wrong, but based off what Krolia told him about the situation up there, there was the very real possibility he might not have that choice.

God, Krolia.

He kind of wished she were here right now. Space might be a dangerous place, but at least Keith'd be able to live openly there.

Right now that was the one thing he couldn't give him.

And he'd made that choice.

"Thought I asked to not be put on any long missions."

He knew this would be a problem sooner or later, he just hadn't expected it to be sooner. Tempting as it was, he couldn't just spend the rest of his life out in the desert with Keith- he knew that he'd have to come back to work at some point.

He'd left Keith with strict instructions, ones that he was fairly sure he'd follow to the letter. He could go outside, but he needed to stay within sight of the shack. He was to watch out for any dangerous animals, and stay away from them. If he saw anyone, he was to hide, and wait for them to go away.

He doubted anyone would venture that far out into the desert, but it never hurt. He didn't like telling Keith stuff like that- he was too darn young to know that there were people out there who might want to hurt him because he was different. But if he wanted to keep his kid safe, he had no other choice.

"You're our best pilot, Heath." Iverson told him. "I know your recent loss has hit you hard, but-"

"The answer's no, Iverson." Heath told him, not caring much that he'd just cut a commanding officer short. "It's day flights, or I quit."

Push come to shove, he could find work elsewhere. Maybe it wouldn't pay as much, but if there was one advantage to living in a shack out in the middle of the desert, it was that he had no bills to pay.

Iverson clearly had not been expecting that ultimatum. "You're certain?"

"I'm certain." He repeated.

Heaving a sigh, Iverson merely frowned. "If you insist, I'll have you pulled from the mission. But if you keep turning work down, they may have you demoted to cargo class."

"I can live with that."

He could. Nothing was more important than Keith right now. Maybe when he was older, he could think about taking longer missions right now, but as it was now, kid wasn't ready to be left on his own for that long.

If that meant his career had to suffer, so be it. Fine by him.

His son came first.

"What's in the box?"

Sitting at the edge of the makeshift table, Keith peered up at him. What had started out as a film turned out to actually be some kind of third eyelid, one that left his pupils invisible to the naked eye. It was strange to look at, but it didn't bother Keith none, so it didn't bother him.

"Oh, just some boring ol' dad books." Heath told him, watching as Keith's face fell, a look of absolute betrayal crossing it. No surprise. He'd come to equate packages with something being for him, since he had to order everything for Keith online now. Couldn't exactly go out to shop for a kid that was supposed to be dead.

"That's no fun." Keith whined, his voice reaching an octave he was damn sure was impossible for a regular human. Spreading himself out over the table, almost uselessly dramatic, he pouted.

Grinning, Heath set aside the large books he'd pulled out first. "Oh?" Lifting a brow, he made a show of being surprised, though he knew full well what was under them. "What's this? Looks like they threw some picture books in here by mistake."

Perking up, Keith's eyes went wide. Pushing himself up on the table, he crawled over, peering inside the box, grabbing at one of the picture books.

"Nope, didn't order these!" Heath lied through his teeth, not even trying to mask his grin. "Guess I'll just have to take them all back to the post office."

Glowering up at him, Keith clutched the picture book he'd already taken to his chest. "No. These are mine now."

Arching a brow, Heath let out a loud laugh as he ruffled his son's hair. "Yeah? Guess we'll just have to keep them all then."

Nodding his head, Keith relinquished his death grip on the picture book, instead leaning into his hand. His son was like a damn cat, he swore, right down to the purring. He definitely hadn't had the vocal chords for that before, but apparently, he did now.

"Want me to read to you?" Heath asked.

Opening his eyes, Keith shook his head. "No, I can do it."

"Yeah?" Heath asked. "You sure?"

Brow furrowing, Keith glared at him. "I'm four now, I can read on my own."

Ah, right, he was. It wasn't like he'd forgotten his birthday or anything like that- they'd had a proper party for it, or as much of one as they could have out here. But part of him just couldn't fathom that they'd spent a whole year out here now. Celebrated Christmas and New Year's and everything.

Some part of him had secretly been hoping that Keith's transformation would wear off in time. But if the change in his eyes had proven anything, it was that the effects were likely permanent- and still taking place. He'd adapted to them well, so if it had to happen at all, maybe it was for the best that it had happened while he was still so young.

Maybe in a few years, he'd only have vague memories of not being purple. Of the world outside the desert.

Now determined, Keith set down the book. "I'll show you."

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Heath just scooped him up, setting him on the floor. "Just don't do it on the table, kiddo. How about some animal crackers?"

Keith nodded, curling up in the space between the couch and the makeshift table, setting the book in his lap. "Yeah. And juice."

"Any preference?" Heath asked, rising to his feet. Keith just shook his head. "No preference, huh. Guess I'll get some cranberry juice."

"Dad!" Looking up at him with wide eyes, the effect emphasized by his lack of visible pupils, Keith pouted. "No!"

Chuckling, Heath just shook his head. "Alright, apple it is then."

Their kitchen was small, but manageable. He'd have to teach Keith to cook one of these days, he knew, but for now, he was still too small for him to be entirely comfortable with him helping out in the kitchen. Maybe in a few years, when he was old enough to hold a knife.

Granted, kid had claws now, and those were about as dangerous as you could get. But he was careful with them, mindful, even. Hadn't hurt himself yet- though he'd been pricked with them more than his fair share, at least during those first few weeks.

Chewing on his lip, he peered back into the main room of the shack. Keith was busy with his picture book, mumbling to himself. He was using one clawed finger to trace the words, stopping when he hit one that he didn't recognize.

Guess school was out of the cards.

Maybe when he went into town next, he'd pick up a few basic workbooks. Might be too early for math, but he was a great little reader already, so he could start from there. There was a lot to do out here in the desert, but he was sure he'd be able to find the time to teach Keith what he needed to know.

"Dad!" Keith called out, a slight whine to his voice. "What's this word?"

With a faint grin, he shook his head. Scooping up the small bowl of animal crackers and the juice carton, he sat them in front of Keith, before picking him up, tucking his son in his lap as he sat down. "Which one?"

"This one." Keith said, tapping it. "Don't know it."

Ruffling his hair, Heath read it out for him. Like a little echo, Keith repeated it.

They were halfway through the book when Keith suddenly went silent, his voice faltering. At first, he thought he'd simply dozed off, but a quick glance down proved that his son was very awake. "Keith?"

"...why was mom purple?"

Frowning, he couldn't help but wonder what brought that on all of a sudden. He'd expected Keith to ask at some point, he just hadn't expected it to be so out of the blue.

"Well," leaning back against the couch, he mulled over how he should explain it, "-she wasn't from around here, fer one thing."

Keith peered up at him, tilting his head back. "Where was she from?"

With a faint grin, he lifted a hand, pointing up. "From the stars."

Keith's eyes lit up at that. "From space!?"

Letting out a laugh, Heath's grin grew. "Sure was. Your pop here rescued her when she crashed to Earth."

"Does that mean I'm an alien?" Keith asked, sounding so earnest.

"Mm, not quite." He told him. "You were born here, on Earth. You're human, like me."

Frowning, Keith's brows furrowed. "But I don't look like you. At least, not anymore."

He felt a pang as he said that, but didn't let it show on his face. "Maybe not, but it doesn't change the fact that you are."

Keith blinked, tilting his head. He didn't know if he'd accepted that or not, but it seemed to suffice for now. "Oh. Okay. Where was mom from?"

"Don't think she was much from anywhere." Heath told him. "Her folk don't really have a planet anymore. They're called the Galra."

Unless you counted the tens of thousands they had conquered, but that wasn't exactly Krolia's folk. She'd told him once that she had been raised on one of their many colonies, before she joined that rebel group of hers- which, come to think of it, he never actually got the name of.

(Probably should have asked.)

"What happened to it?" Keith asked.

"A lot of stuff." Heath told him. "I'll tell you about it someday."

Keith frowned, not entirely satisfied with that, but didn't seem much interested in pursuing the subject further. "Why did she leave?"

"She didn't want to." Heath told him- that much he wanted to make crystal clear. If Krolia had any idea what had become of her son, she'd come flying back here- probably to beat him up, he reckoned. "There's some real bad folk out in space, and she went to help fight them."

"So she's a hero?" Keith asked- and he could have sworn that his eyes sparkled, just a bit. Letting out a chuckle, he planted a kiss on the top of his head.

"She sure is." He told him. "And she loved you a lot."

He'd tell him the more complex parts some other day. About the knife that she left behind for him. About how it was linked to her life force, so as long as the sigil on the hilt glowed, she was alive. About how he could live for another thousand years, and still never meet another woman quite like her.

For now, this would do.

On Keith's fifth birthday, he took him to see the blue lion.

He wasn't sure why he waited so long, in hindsight. It just had never really occurred to him to bring Keith along with him. He came down to the tunnels plenty- what spare time he had, he spent reinforcing the network of tunnels, making it harder and harder for anyone to just stumble onto the lion.

He knew them by heart.

Maybe Keith hadn't thought much of the lion the first time he'd been shown it, but this time, he was properly in awe. Probably helped that he'd told him a bit of the story Krolia had shared with him- that it was a legendary weapon of alien origin, that she had come to this planet to protect.

He didn't even fight the urge to laugh at the way Keith smushed his face up against the barrier, pouting when it wouldn't give way. "We can't go in?"

"'fraid not, kiddo." He told him, scooping him up and putting him on his shoulders so that he could get a better view. He was kinda heavy for someone so small- guess his bones must have gotten denser, or something like that. Krolia was the same way. "Your mom said she'll only let her pilot in."

"Who's her pilot?" Keith asked, peering down at him. In the dim light of the cave, his eyes glowed.

"Beats me." Heath told him. "But maybe she'll talk to you. Your mom said she likes kids."

"She can talk?" Keith asked, looking up towards the blue lion in awe.

Honestly, he had no clue. He just always got that impression from the way Krolia spoke of it. What he did know was that it was no ordinary ship, even by alien standards- not when this Emperor Zarkon wanted it so badly.

"Don't know." Heath said frankly. "Maybe you'll find out."

"Can I come visit her?" Keith asked.

"Mm, not until you've got the path memorized, like I do." Heath told him. He'd been letting him wander off more on his own lately, but only to places he knew the kid knew how to get back from- he'd taken to desert life exceptionally well, hadn't gotten lost even once yet. "But if you ever want to come see it, you just ask me."

Nodding his head, Keith appeared satisfied with that. "Okay."

"You interested in her?" Heath asked.

"No," Keith frowned, before quickly correcting himself, "-I mean, yeah, she's so cool! But I just- I thought she might be lonely. She's the only one here."

It was a statement that made him blink. How did Keith...?

No, maybe he was just overthinking it. The blue lion was the only thing down here, so maybe that's all he meant. He knew from Krolia that there were supposedly four more of these things, but he hadn't told Keith that.

It also made him wonder if Keith was lonely.

It was a thought that stung, but he didn't know what he could do about it. He didn't exactly have any friends out here, and his prospects for making them were well, low.

If coming to see the blue lion could help with that, at least a little, he'd be glad to take him.

He didn't have the same reaction to the scout ships.

There were a pair of them- the one Krolia had crashed to Earth in, and the one that had been left behind by the scouting party they had intercepted. Out of the three, Krolia had taken one, and the other had blown up, which just left this one. Hauling it into this cave, even with his hoverbike, hadn't been easy, but he'd managed. It wasn't exactly something he could just leave out in the open.

Though he had been excited at first to see his mother's ship, once they actually got there, all Keith did was hide behind his legs. Frowning, he crouched down in front of him, ruffling his hair. "What's wrong?"

"...they're kinda scary."

Frowning, he looked up towards the ships. "You think so?"

"Yeah," nodding his head, Keith clung to his sleeve, "-they look like a bad guy's ships."

Biting his lip, Heath looked down at his son. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"You've heard of spies, right?" Heath asked.

Nodding his head, Keith peered up at him, more curious about the sudden question than he was scared of the ships. "Yeah. It was in one of my books."

"Well, that's what your mom was." He told him. "She snuck into the bad guy's camp and pretended to be one of them, so she could do good things."

He had to fight the urge to let out a breath of relief at how quickly Keith seemed to latch onto the idea. "Mom was a spy?"

"Yup," he told him, "-she and her friends," maybe not the best choice of words, but Keith was only six, so it'd do for now, "-are working really hard to take down an evil empire from the inside."

"So," scrunching his nose, Keith tilted his head, "-bad aliens, right?"

"Bad aliens." Heath agreed. "They're called the-"

He stopped himself short, just in time. He'd nearly just blurted out that they were called the Galra Empire, but Keith already knew that was what his mom was- Galra. And he was a smart kid- it wouldn't be hard for him to put two and two together and figure out that he was the bad alien.

Except he wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"They're called the what?" Keith asked, frowning when he didn't answer. "...dad?"

Heaving a sigh, Heath hung his head. Guess he hadn't stopped himself just in time.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Heath frowned. "You know how I told you there's bad people out there?"

Nodding his head, Keith's brow crinkled. "Yeah. You said they might wanna hurt me. That's why we're out here."

...and that sounded harsher than he wanted, coming from the mouth of his six year old kid. Putting that thought aside, he ran a hand through his hair, giving some thought about how to put this. Ideally, he wanted to wait until Keith was a bit older, but...

"Well, there's bad Galra out there too." Heath told him. "A lot of things happened, and the bad guys ended up with most of the power."

He watched something in Keith shatter at that statement. "...the Galra are bad guys?"

"No." He said, maybe a bit too quickly, but he hoped Keith wouldn't notice. "Not all of them. Just... a good number."

Clutching at the hem of his shirt, Keith dug his hands into it, his gaze dropping to his feet. "...is mom?"

"Your mom is good." Heath assured him. "As good as they come. I told you, right? Your mom's a hero."

Slowly nodding his head, Keith peered up at him. "...am I bad?"

Something damn near broke in him, hearing his son ask that. Scooping him up in a tight hug, he buried Keith in his chest. "No. Nothing about you is bad, Keith. I promise you that."

Keith didn't say anything back, he just buried himself deeper in his father's embrace.

At first, he didn't even register the impact.

All he knew was that one minute, he was on his feet, and another, he wasn't. The rock he was standing on must have given out on him, sending him freefalling. It felt like he'd been staring up at the sky for a long span of time when it finally dawned on him that he must have fallen, and it was only then that the pain came.

It came sharp, piercing. He always considered himself a man who handled pain well, but this was damn near enough to reduce him to tears. Grunting, he slowly reached up a hand, touching the back of his head ever so lightly.

When he drew it away, there was blood.

It took everything not to panic. He couldn't afford to. Head wounds bled, he knew that for a fact. Pressing his hand where he'd hit it, he tried to force himself up into a sitting position, but all that did was cause the world to spin, causing him to collapse with a groan.

This wasn't good.

He couldn't- he had to get back to Keith. Back to the shack. There were medical supplies there, he could...

He didn't even remember passing out.

When he came to next, it was to the sound of a roar. It sounded, some dim part of him thought, a lot like a lion. But there were no lions here. Just-

"Dad?"

Keith.

Grunting, he tried to move his head, but it protested the action, fiercely. Eyes gazing upwards, they fixed on Keith's, two glowing pinpricks against the night sky.

...when had it gotten this late?

"...keith."

Relief washed through Keith's features, and even though he knew his son couldn't cry, it still looked like he'd been tearing up. He was clutching at his shirt, visibly upset. At first, he couldn't place for the life of him why, before it slowly dawned on him.

Oh.

He was dying.

Slowly reaching up a hand, he cupped it around Keith's cheek, giving him a weak smile. His son leaned into it, nuzzling his cheek against it. His skin was rough to the touch, textured- he couldn't remember when it had gotten like that, just that it had.

He didn't know what to say. Couldn't think straight. All he knew was that he was about to leave Keith all alone- the one thing he'd promised he'd never do.

Not alone.

Some part of him figured that maybe he was just hearing things. He was dying, hit his head real hard, so he was probably just having an auditory hallucination.

The other part of him recognized it as the blue lion's voice.

Not mine, it said, but I will watch over him, as you and his mother have me.

He really wanted to believe that. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long breath, feeling something sharp stab at him as he did. Oh- so the head wound wasn't the only injury he'd taken. Figures- he'd fallen pretty far.

Didn't matter if what he was hearing was real or not. No offense to the blue lion- he was sure it was great and all, but it wasn't quite the same as having a living, breathing person in the company of his son. Someone he could trust.

God, he should have told someone when he had the chance. Sam, maybe. Why hadn't he told Sam?

Someone will come, in time, it said, the one who sleeps still has seen this.

Now that just made no damn sense to him. Huh. Guess it wasn't an auditory hallucination then.

Opening his eyes, he looked up at Keith, who had taken to clutching his hand tight. His claws were digging into him, but he didn't have the heart to tell him off, not now.

Keith knew what death was. He'd helped him hunt. Seen the life go out of an animal's eyes.

Just probably hadn't thought it could happen to his father.

God, he was only seven. Seven! He was too damn- too damn young for this, for any of this. If he'd just been more careful, if he hadn't gotten careless-

"Keith," he croaked out, forcing himself to smile, "-you'll be fine."

"You can't." Keith told him, still stubborn as ever, like he could chase away death if he protested enough. "You can't."

"I don't want to," Heath told him, "-god, I don't want to. I love you. I love you so much, kiddo."

"Then don't go."

He wished he could do that. Just... not go. But he knew. And Keith knew.

Someone will come.

Well, he thought- they'd better damn well hurry up with it.

He wasn't there, four years later, when Keith dragged an injured cadet back to the shack.

Takashi Shirogane stayed.