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When the visions come, they overtake anything happening on the physical plane. With barely enough warning to brace himself, Keith is yanked off the back of the Space Whale and dropped… elsewhere.
He thought he’d lost his mind the first time that it happened.
The eerie familiarity of the Garrison flight simulator. Hands vibrating against the controls as the system boots down. Murmurs from the other students as he exits. A swell in his chest at seeing he’s just beaten the previous high score, formerly held by his mentor.
In the blink of an eye, he was back.
Keith had no intention of telling Krolia what he experienced as he stumbled back from yet another failed foraging trip, blue space pup conceredly biting at his heels. The nausea from the whiplash settled quickly enough, so he forced himself to pretend it didn’t happen rather than try to wrap his head around the surreal feeling of being plucked out of time. He didn’t want to risk looking weak in front of his newfound mother, of all people.
“You are an impressive pilot,” Krolia mused as soon as he arrived back at their makeshift camp, not looking away from where she was weaving some sort of bedroll.
“You saw—That was real?”
It goes on like this for phoebs. Keith is left rattled every time he is thrown into one of these waves. He finds himself on Voltron missions that have long since been completed, in foster homes he never thought he would have the displeasure of seeing again, and, rarely, back in the desert shack, caring for a baby with inky black locks and confiding in a handsome human that radiates nothing but devotion for his secret little family.
Every other memory from Krolia is static. They don’t talk about it.
Just when Keith thinks he's adapted to the occasional blast from the past knocking him out of his mind, the visions change.
Keith finds himself in a living room—Shiro and Adam’s, based on the framed wedding photos he’s currently admiring. There's chatter coming from the kitchen, along with the smell of distinctly human cooking.
“Stop putting your grubby hands in the pot!” he hears Hunk scold. There's a loud smack and an indignant squawk, then Pidge chimes in with, “Oooo, I’m telling Shiro.”
A chair scrapes the floor in the dining room, but then Adam shouts, “Nope. Shiro isn’t in charge anymore, you guys are big kids now!”
“Exactly! You two should be mature enough to wait five more min—No, no, stop! Those are for dessert!” Hunk shouts, “Keith, come get your boyfriend!”
Then he’s back on the Space Whale, the word boyfriend echoing in his mind.
And the only explanation is that he’s seeing the future now, too.
He becomes obsessed.
In his defense, there isn’t anything else to do but wait for another flash of hope. Even the few bad glimpses are evidence that there's something more beyond this Whale. Daily survival is no longer a concern; he and Krolia have found all of the best foraging spots and done everything they can to make their campsite comfortable. The wolf stalks the perimeter of camp, fiercely protective of his new family, so there’s no need to even keep watch.
Keith clings on tight to every single fact he can untangle from the visions—can’t help but study every detail to try to find more than what he is shown.
He fears that solving this puzzle may be the only thing left tethering him to sanity.
Creams and moisturizers strewn across a bathroom countertop. Red and blue toothbrushes perched in a cup next to the sink.
Long legs, clad in fuzzy blue PJs, tangled up with his own. The couch they lie on is far more luxurious than Keith would ever choose for himself.
The waves of a beach he has only seen in someone else’s memories push and pull at his hips. A child in his arms shouting, “Again, Tío! Throw me further this time!”
Two extremely recognizable hands—tan and freckled with a calloused trigger finger—splayed out across Keith’s chest. He catches the gleam of a golden band on the right as he’s shoved back onto a bed.
By the time their journey is reaching its end, Keith is sure he’s lost his mind.
The evidence is damning, but he can’t let himself have the answer just yet. Doesn’t know what he would even do with this foresight, besides let the anticipation eat him alive, like he’s already been doing for the last year.
As Krolia frequently reminds him, there's a mission to focus on. He knows this. He's always lived and breathed whatever mission is at hand.
But he’s never had a future to grapple with before. Now he has one that’s both obscured and too good to be true all at once.
Their target is closer than ever, but one final premonition grips them as they prepare to leave the Space Whale’s bubble of atmosphere.
The sun beats down on Keith from where he stands on the worn porch. He knocks on the door and is unsurprised by the instant commotion it triggers inside.
A woman he has never seen before answers the door, and Keith’s heart floods with an overwhelming familiarity.
She pulls him into a hug and says, “¡Por fin has vuelto! Please take him back home. I swear, all that boy does is mope when you are away.”
Keith watches over her shoulder as the rest of the household packs into the entryway to greet him. Excited chatter and questions about his trip ring out from the group as he’s passed around—hugs and kisses on the cheek and warmth he’s never known before.
He hasn’t met them yet, but he is sure they are his family.
An unmistakable voice comes from the back of the group, “Okay, okay, I know Keith is everyone's favorite, but can I please say hello to my husband?”