I LOVE SPOOPY SEASON, GUYS. Whumptober is actually incredible and I LOVE IT.

Today's theme: "poisoned"

xxx

The entire evening had been a success: the Paladins of Voltron were able to complete another peace treaty and establish new relationships with a growing power in the east quadrant of the galaxy. A dinner had been planned, ran smoothly, and the entire team knew that it couldn't have gone the least bit better.

Well, it almost could have been better.

"I can't believe we had to drink that stuff!" Lance groaned, surely making a face of disgust. "I could barely keep a straight face." They were all in their lions, making light conversation on the short journey back to the castle.

"The the staple of our diet is space goo- what did you expect? It's not like you're gonna get a can of soda on an alien planet," Pidge corrected, tone joking.

"In any case, it's not like we could have avoided it." Shiro's intercom crackled to life, most likely wanting to stop a pointless back-and-forth argument before it had a chance to start. "It was a tradition of the entire planet. It would have been extremely offensive if we didn't take the offering."

"Yeah, well, that didn't make it any less gross," Lance countered.

"It actually wasn't that bad," Hunk chipped. "I kind of liked it."

"Yeah, Lance. I couldn't even taste it." Keith took the opportunity to tease his fellow paladin, just like he did every time he got the chance. But he really didn't taste anything bad. The drink honestly had no flavor— it was like drinking water. He didn't want to seem stupid, though, so he didn't say anything about it. It was probably the half galra in his veins that was messing with his taste perception. "Stop whining about it."

"I'm not whining!" Lance whined. "I'm just stating the facts."

"Sure, Lance." Keith let the team banter about it, instead choosing to focus on the galaxy around him. He rubbed his thumbs over the groove's on Red's control sticks, letting his mind go blank. It was one of his favorite things, flying around in his lion. It allowed him to feel a sort of peace that he didn't get anywhere else.

But for some reason, he couldn't empty his mind. There was a weird tightness in his chest and his entire mouth and throat were parched like he hadn't had water in days. It wasn't too unbearable, though, so he didn't take it as a sign to worry. So what if his mouth was dry? It was probably just him adjusting to the alien feast he had consumed not even an hour ago. And the way his chest was tight and tingling, that was probably from the food, too. And the way his fingers felt a little numb and how he had a bit of a hard time moving his legs were because of that.

He didn't need to worry about it.

So he kept tracing his thumbs over the handles of the controls and tried to ignore it, instead fixing his sights on the fast space in front of him. But then a wave of something washed over him that made his chest tighten and his stomach churn. A cold sweat broke out over his entire body and he swallowed apprehensively, confused. His arms and legs were tingling and he was freezing cold. Temporarily releasing the controls, he rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms (he had changed into his usual black t-shirt when he had boarded) and was shocked to find that his skin was warm. Hot even.

What the actual-

His internal swearing was cut off by an intense swell of nausea that made his esophagus contract like he was about to gag. It came on so fast that he didn't even have a chance to retaliate; he went from being sort-of-uncomfortable to intensely willing himself not to throw up all over the inside of his lion. He shakily flipped off his intercom and took a few breaths, swallowing reflexively.

What was happening to him? He had been fine two seconds ago. Saliva flooded his mouth as the pressure on his chest and around his throat continued to increase and he was moments away from turning the communications back on and telling the team that something was probably definitely wrong with him. But then the feeling was gone as soon as it started, leaving him dizzy and really, really damn confused. He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his long black hair.

Okay, that banquet was really messing him up. It didn't seem to have affected any of the other paladins, though, so Keith cursed at his half-breed genetics. Of course, his body had to go and react badly to the feast.

Badly seemed to be an understatement, though. Now both his arms and legs were tingling and numb and he couldn't move his feet as easily as he would have liked to. Keith could feel his parched throat practically burning and his tongue felt weird and lifeless inside his mouth. Panic flared up in his chest.

Okay, something's not right.

He definitely needed to tell someone now. Strangely enough, his head and thought process were clear. He could still think about his actions, and it was probably better if the entire team didn't know that his body was having some sort of negative reaction to the things he had ingested; it was embarrassing on top of that. He didn't mind as much at the moment, but he knew when he wasn't completely numb and panicking he would totally regret telling anyone. So he shakily reached up and fumbled for the intercom button, mashing one of the controls.

"Shiro." The sounds of his own voice shocked him; it was gravelly and horrible-sounding. "I think something's wrong." His tongue felt strange in his mouth, making his words hard to get around.

"Oh, come to admit defeat, Mullet?" Lance's voice.

Damn his clumsy fingers! He only wanted a one-on-one with the team leader.

"Keith?" Shiro's voice this time. At least he had reached who he wanted to. "Did something happen?" He had on his 'leader voice,' the one that either made everyone instantly calm and composed or panic fervently. This time it was the latter.

A cacophony of voices were then all talking over each other, muddled questions like, "What did he say?" and, "Are you okay?" Keith tried to fumble with the buttons again because he only needed to talk to Shiro, dammit but his fingers kept missing their target. God, he was so dizzy. Abandoning his efforts (and his pride for that matter), he raised his hazy eyes up to the camera feed attached to the headboard of his lion, catching bits of conversation and looks of concern.

Oh, yeah, I didn't turn the camera off.

Usually, when he said that something was wrong, the team went into alert which wasn't even close to the way they were all looking at him now. Did he really look that bad?

"Something's not... I don't feel right." Not right was a complete understatement now. His head spun and he could barely move his limbs and his entire body was tingling like there were ants under his skin. From the back of his throat, all the way down through his chest, and into his stomach burned like he had drunk acid. Despite the internal fire, he was so, so freezing cold even though he could physically feel the heat coming off his own skin. His sight was now blurring and his ears were ringing and holy damn, he was freaking the hell out.

"Keith?" Pidge questioned, apprehension creeping up in her voice. "You look really pale."

"Yeah, buddy. You don't look so hot." Hunk was leaning into the monitor, brow creased.

"What's going on? What's happening?" The leader voice was back.

Keith tried at a response, but all that came out the first time was something like a moan that barely made it past his throat. The second time was more successful. "M' not sure. Feels... weird. I think it's a reaction to the feast from... earlier." All of his words were so slurred together that he didn't even know if anyone could understand him.

"Weird like how?" Lance's face was now popped up in front of his monitor, face twisted in something resembling fear and concern.

"Like I'm numb." His head was slipping down onto his shoulder and he couldn't for the life of him keep it upright. "I can't... move. I'm freezing even though I should be... baking in here." His tongue was deciding to give out on him now, too. There was some muffled conversation that he could barely hear above the ringing in his ears while he was focusing on simply remaining upright.

But then he could hear someone shouting his name and the ringing subsided because of his own sheer willpower to hear whatever was being said to him.

"..eith? Keith, can you hear me?"

The Red Paladin hummed in response, licking his dry lips. There was a murmured 'thank God' on the other end of the line, presumably Pidge.

"Keith," Shiro said loudly and slowly like he was speaking to an infant. Keith caught the slight unnerved tremor in his voice. "You need to stay awake. Lance is on his way to your lion and I'm contacting Coran right now. Keith?"

His head started slipping down his chest again and he had absolutely no energy to hold it up. "Yeah," he croaked, feeling the intense burn in his throat from the slight use.

"Hold on for just a little longer. Lance is on his way."

As if on cue, the metal plates shifted underneath his immobile feet as Red opened her jaws. There were suddenly hands on him, hands that burned his skin but he was too wiped to do anything more than wince. The next thing he knew he was on the floor with his head propped up on something halfway soft— Lance's thigh he found out. He really wanted to say something but that was definitely not an option. His tongue was glued to the inside of his parched mouth and his throat and esophagus burned like nothing he had ever felt before. His entire body was numb, tingling, and freezing cold and the only thing he could really feel was the panic mounting in his chest. The only thing he could hear was a sharp ringing and his eyes blurred in and out of focus like he was about to lose consciousness.

Really, the only thing he was thinking was this came on hella fast.

There suddenly was something tapping against his cheek and something else squeezing his arm; he could barely hear his name being called. "...alk for me. Buddy? Tell me what's going on. Keith, tell me what you feel."

Keith could barely make out Lance's face above him. There were tears in his eyes.

"Mm," he rasped, trying his best to speak and maybe ease his fellow paladin's fear.

At his slight confirmation, he saw Lance's eyes widen and heard him give a shaky breath of relief. He turned his head, talking to the monitors to the side of him. "He's awake, he's talking."

The response was something on the lines of, "Ask about the symptoms, we need to know what we're dealing with." It sounded like Coran's voice, uncharacteristically grave.

"Keith, buddy." Lance turned his head back to face him, hand on the side of his face to keep it from rolling to the side. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Can't... feel," Keith slurred, hearing his own voice like it came from underwater. "Numb. Throat... burns." There was some more talking that Keith couldn't hear because it seemed that speaking made his ears ring even more and Lance was tapping at his face again, talking louder.

"Are you nauseous? What about your eyes, can you see well?"

Keith weakly nodded his head in response, grateful that he didn't have to speak his response.

More murmured conversation. "How do you feel, are you cold?"

I'm damn freezing. He nodded again.

"Okay," Lance sighed, voice wavering and relieved, tone catching Keith's attention. "You're gonna be okay, you just have to get to the healing pods. ETA is ten minutes. Why'd you have to go and be half galra, asshole?." Lance sniffed and wiped a hand across his eyes, smiling shakily. "Don't ever do that again, Mullet, I thought you were gonna die on me. I couldn't find a pulse."

"Not..," Keith rasped. "...Plannin' on-n it."

Lance laughed weakly and pushed the sweaty bangs from his fellow paladin's forehead. "You'd better not be."

xxx

i just

i juST-

I JUST LOVE HURTING HIM SO MUCH.