“I-I’m sorry, you can do… what?”
	Ryner frowned just slightly. “Our translators should still be working. Do I need to run a scan? I can have it fixed in…”
	“No, no,” Shiro rushed to reassure her. “Your translators are still working. I’m… mostly sure, anyway. No, I’m just… I don’t know what to think.”
	“How would something like that even work?” Hunk asked.
	Ryner brightened as she always did whenever she got to explain something. “Brain matrices aren’t really that different from any other organism or compound. Much more complex, of course, but foundationally very similar.”
	She went on explaining to the Paladins, but Shiro wasn’t really listening. Her earlier words echoed in his head. “We believe we can restore your lost memories.”
	It was Pidge’s voice that snapped him back out of it. “Oh, so it’s basically like defragmenting a drive!” She got a bit loud when she was this enthusiastic. The mere sight of Olkarion tended to raise her voice a few decibels on its own.
	“Yes,” Ryner agreed. She turned back to Shiro. “So we won’t be able to see your memories, if that is what is troubling you. It does not function that way. It just brings your own mind into alignment. You are the only one who will have access to these memories, I promise.”
	He nodded and cleared his throat. “Y-yes, I… I understand. Thank you, Ryner. It’s kind of you to offer. Olkari technology never ceases to amaze me.” She smiled at that, and he forced a smile in return. “I…”
	He was going to say he needed to think about it. But the thought came to him that his locked-away memories might contain valuable intel about the Empire. He squared his shoulders.
	“I’d be glad to get my memories back. Thank you. How soon can we do this?” 
	“We’re still bringing it back online,” she said. “It’s one of our older tech pieces, from back before the Galra showed up. It was hidden, damaged; they probably didn’t even notice it. We’ve repaired it, but I want to make sure we get the power levels right before we use it. Tomorrow at the latest.”
	“I’ll help!” Pidge offered. Hunk was right there with her. Lance and Keith were studying him carefully as the two techies of the team followed Ryner out. 
	“I’m going to get some rest before then,” Shiro said, heading for the door.
	“Hey, Shiro,” Lance began.
	“I’m fine, Lance.”
	“You’re not,” Keith insisted, running up to keep pace with him.
	“Look, if even Keith can tell, then we know something’s up,” Lance declared.
	“I appreciate the concern, you two, but really. I just want to get some rest. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
	Thankfully, they left him alone after that, but before he was totally out of earshot, he thought he heard Lance say something like, “Don’t worry, I know what to do.” That was worrisome. He decided to head back to his room on the Castle, where he could lock the door, just in case.

	He lost track of time, laying on his back in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. This shouldn’t be a big deal, he chided himself. But it was. And, if he was being honest, he knew why; he just didn’t want to admit it. Not even to himself. 
	He didn’t want to have to face what he’d done in that lost year. He didn’t want to know whether he had only ever defeated bloodthirsty fighters like Myzax or if there had been innocents as well – other prisoners who didn’t even know what they were in for. What had he done to survive?
	He didn’t want to remember everything they’d done to him. Was there more than just his hand? Nothing else was as obvious, but that didn’t mean the new arm was the only change they’d made. Had he been tortured into giving up information about Earth? 
	He hated the shattered quality of what memories he did have, hated how he would stumble over them seemingly at random, and how they would cut him and make him bleed. He hated not knowing things about himself, but at least when he didn’t know for sure, he could pretend it was all okay. He could console himself with, “Well, I don’t know, so I’ll just assume the best.” That was how he got through the bad times.
	Sometimes, Sendak’s voice still haunted him. Monster. He tried to shut those memories out, too, but it just insistently reminded him of ejecting a captive into space. He’d done that. With his own hand – not even the Galra replacement. If he could do that, what else was he capable of? What other sins lurked in the darkness of his own mind? He couldn’t begin to atone if he didn’t know what they were.
	But… he was a Paladin of Voltron. He was helping people, saving people, freeing people. That was enough, right? Even without knowing how much blood was on his hands, Voltron would cleanse him. The peoples of the universe would grant him absolution for all of this. At worst, he would die, and then it wouldn’t matter any longer. Not that he wanted to be dead. 
	Deep down, he wanted to live in peace. He wanted that for everyone. Freedom, peace, justice. But there was a dark undercurrent of revenge in him. And if he wanted that – all of that – he needed to do this, to get the intel that might help them bring down the Galra Empire, free everyone, and destroy the evil that had stolen so much from him and warped his existence this way. 
	They’d meant him to be a weapon. And maybe he was. But he wasn’t under their control any longer. He would be their downfall.
	But… he’d have to face the fears lurking inside him, the shadowy unknown that he hated so much. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he was fearing. Maybe it would be better than he dared to hope. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – know until they defragmented his brain. One way or another he’d know. He’d know what had happened. What he had done. What they had done. He’d know it all.
	The door chime startled him. Oh quiznak, it’s time. I have to do this. He got up and started walking towards the door. “Who is it?”
	“It’s Allura. Lance suggested I speak with you.”
	He stopped moving and stifled a groan. “I’m fine, Allura, really. Go back to what you were doing.”
	“He said it was urgent.”
	“It’s not, really. I’m fine.” He went back to his bunk, just to sit on the edge of it. Staring at the floor would be a nice change of pace from the ceiling.
	“Can we at least discuss this without the door in the way?”
	“I’m. Fine,” he insisted. “You have more important things to worry about than me.”
	There was a pause and then the Castle’s soft voice said, “Override acknowledged,” and the door slid open.
	He shot to his feet. “Wha-…”
	Allura had her arms folded, standing there in the doorway. “Do you really think that you can bar me from any room in my own ship?”
	He sighed. “Allura, I’m…”
	“Fine, yes, you’ve said. But Lance and Keith told me about the meeting with Ryner earlier.” She walked in and the door shut behind her. “And there is very little in the universe more important than the health and well-being of the Black Paladin of Voltron.”
	He studied her. “You’re not going to go away, are you?”
	“Not until you talk to me.”
	“Okay, fine. But I don’t know what there is to talk about.” He sat back down on his bunk.
	She walked around to sit next to him. “You aren’t at all nervous about this?”
	“Why should I be nervous? Olkari technology is amazing, and I trust Ryner not to put me in any danger.”
	“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Are you looking forward to having your memories back?”
	No. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve hated feeling like part of me is locked away. I’ve hated not knowing. This will fix all that.”
	“Yes, but… then you’ll know.”
	“That’s the point, isn’t it?”
	She huffed. “You’re being stubborn.”
	“You’re not one to accuse other people of stubbornness.”
	“The fact that I am well-acquainted with it means I recognize it easily in others,” she declared. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Shiro…”
	He pulled away from her. “I’m going to do it, so there’s no point in any of this.”
	“But you aren’t entirely sanguine about it, or you wouldn’t be hiding in here.”
	“I’m not hiding! I’m just resting!”
	“Exactly!” She stood. “You work more than I do!”
	He barked a laugh. “Not even close. You’re a workaholic, Princess, and that’s a fact.”
	“Okay, almost as much as I do. That’s not the point. The point is, you don’t like to rest. You don’t like to sleep. You don’t spend time just laying around when you could be doing something! You. Are. HIDING.”
	He practically jumped to his feet to glare at her. “You want to know why I don’t sleep? I don’t sleep because I can’t! Because these things I can’t even remember terrify me so much that I wake up! If I don’t know what they are, I can’t face them, and if I can’t face them, I can’t beat them!”
	“So what are you doing now then?” she shot back at him. “Getting in one last terror-riddled nap?!”
	That deflated him a little. “No, I…”
	She settled down as well, though her tone was still strident. “You’ll have to face those fears to defeat them, you’re right. And if you do this, you’ll know what they are. And that’s what has you hiding.”
	He scowled. “Don’t talk like you know what I’m thinking.”
	“I do!” she shouted. She cleared her throat and took a moment to calm down. “I do know. It’s not exactly the same, but…” She lowered her gaze to the floor rather than look at him. “I don’t know what my father’s last moments were like. I don’t know what my planet’s last moments were like. And sometimes, that haunts me. Sometimes, when I try to sleep, I imagine what it might have been like for Altea. And I imagine it happening again and again: to Shay’s Balmera, to Olkarion, to Arus, to every planet we’ve helped and saved.” She raised her head again just enough to barely catch his eye. “I imagine it happening to Earth, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. Those fears wake me shivering and sobbing, Shiro.
	“Would it be better to be certain of Altea’s fate? Maybe. Maybe not. It would make my fears for all the other worlds that much sharper, bring them into greater focus. And nothing I can do, nothing I can find out or know, will ever bring Altea back to me.”
	He jerked a little when he felt a touch on his left hand, but then eased when he realized it was Allura reaching out to him. She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Your memories of what happened in captivity could be useful to us, I’ll admit. But there are other ways we can find those things out. If you aren’t ready to do this, then don’t. The Olkari machine isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have to do this now.”
	He shook his head. “This is the quickest way, the most efficient.”
	“Stop thinking like a paladin, just for one dobosh?” she asked gently.
	He looked down at their joined hands, took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. “I…” He had to do it again before he could get the words out. “I ought to be happy about this. I really, really don’t like that I can’t remember what happened. I don’t like feeling shut away from a part of my own life. But at the same time, I know that there’s not likely to be much that’s happy in those memories.” 
	He looked up to face Allura again and swallowed hard. “I’m afraid.”
	She nodded. “That’s understandable.”
	“I have to be brave, for the mission, for the intel we could get, for the sake of the entire universe. That’s my job, that’s why I’m here. That is…” His right hand balled into a fist next to him. “That’s the only thing I have that keeps the nightmares away.
	“I don’t know what I had to do to survive, Allura. I don’t think I want to know, because then I can pretend that I’m still the same man who left Earth intending to go no farther than the edge of the solar system. I can pretend I’m not a monst-…”
	He was surprised when she laid a finger against his lips, and it shut him up instantly.
	“You’re not a monster, Shiro. Are you the same man who left Earth? No. I’m not the same person I was before my father put me into that cryopod. We grow, we change. Sometimes what changes us is good, and sometimes it’s bad.”
	Her finger fell away. “I wish that what had happened to you hadn’t. It would mean you wouldn’t be here with us now, and I don’t know what would have become of any of us if you and the others hadn’t arrived on Arus. But it hurts me to know that they hurt you so badly. And I am so, so sorry for it.
	“Ultimately, this is your decision. I cannot make it for you. But if the only reason you’re going ahead with it is because you feel you must, for the mission? Then don’t. You’ll have the chance to do it later.”
	“Will I?”
	She smiled wanly. “If I have anything to say about it, yes, you will.” She reached for his right hand. The fist loosened enough for her to link hands with him. “You’re a good man, Shiro. The best man I’ve ever known, apart from my father. I am so, so glad to have you with me, and the universe is incredibly lucky to have you as the Black Paladin.”
	“I just… I don’t know,” he sighed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
	“What if it were Keith who had to make this decision? What would you tell him?”
	“I’d…” He sighed and admitted, “I’d tell him to make his own choice and that he didn’t have to do this if he didn’t want to.”
	She smiled, a little more genuinely this time. “See?”
	“’Course, he’d probably go ahead and do it anyway.”
	She chuckled softly. “Yes, well, that’s Keith. You’re not him. Make your own decision.” She squeezed both his hands once before letting go. “And if you ever need to talk, please come to me. Or to Keith or Lance or anyone. Please?”
	He nodded. “I will.” 
	She seemed satisfied with that and started to leave.
	“Allura.”
	She turned back to him.
	“Thank you for sharing that with me. About your dreams. You… That was… incredibly personal, and you didn’t have to do that.”
	“It was my decision to do so,” she replied. “And you’re welcome.”
	“And if you ever want to talk – about anything – I’d be glad to listen.”
	“Thank you, Shiro. I might take you up on that sometime.” The door opened for her and she left. 
	He stood there for a moment longer, then realized he should talk to Ryner about his decision. He felt too tired to walk over there, but he could at least call.

	“…so thank you, but not right now,” Shiro’s voice said over the comms. “I appreciate the offer though, and I might take you up on it later.”
	Ryner nodded. “Very well, Shiro. Thank you for letting us know.”
	Keith practically pounced as soon as the link closed. “See? I told you he didn’t want to do it.”
	“Yes, your observation was very astute,” Ryner agreed, “but I hope you can appreciate my desire to hear it from Shiro himself, considering that it was his memories in question.”
	“Yeah,” Pidge put in, “Imagine if Lance volunteered you for something you didn’t want to do!”
	“Or turned down something you did,” Hunk added.
	“That’s different,” Keith said.
	“How so?” Pidge pursued.
	“Because Lance is an idiot.”
	“Oy! I’m standing RIGHT HERE, Mullet!” Lance was getting screechy.
	“It’s just the truth.”
	“Hey, my plan actually worked! So who’s the idiot now?”
	“You’re a lucky idiot.”
	Pidge snickered. “Or an idiot with eyes.”
	Keith turned back to her. “What do you mean?”
	“Oh, come on,” Hunk moaned. “You’re closer to Shiro than any of us, and you can’t tell that he likes Allura?”
	“And that she likes him,” Lance replied. “I mean, if I had to lose Allura to someone else, of course it’d be Shiro.”
	“He hasn’t said anything,” Keith said defensively.
	They all groaned.
	“Paladins, can this discussion be had somewhere other than here?” Ryner interjected. 
	“Right, sorry!” Hunk smiled. “Hey, let us know if there’s any other cool tech we can play, er… help with, yeah?”
	“Of course. Thank you both for your assistance.” She watched them leave and shook her head. It was oddly reassuring to know that the Defenders of the Universe were just normal people with normal lives. Well… for certain values of “normal,” anyway.