[He doesn't mean to make it an order, but it comes out as one, regardless. If they hurt them, they really are the enemy. If they attack, they'll have no quarter if things escalate. Not fighting back might be the only thing they have. And, god... if they end up hurting civilians in the crossfire... they're no better than the enemy themselves.]
[- a monster like you - whispering in his mind and - all your fault - echoing in a refrain that keeps his limbs from moving when they should. Keeps him from doing anything but calling out in the hopes he'll be understood. In hopes his reasoning will be understood.]
[He doesn't want to think their friend was really giving up on them. He doesn't want to think they're going to all be separated. That this cobbled-together little family of theirs is going to break. None of that is appealing. None of that is anything he wants to focus on. He doesn't think he can, and keep himself put together.]
[One hand grabs for Darin again, as he steps from cover. A vain attempt to keep him back here, or keep him close at hand again. To keep him from leaving.]
[What happens instead is more surprising.]
[Instead of damage, there's only a shield. Like what they'd project in the training room or out of their armor. Like Allura would project in the command center of the castle. He's staring openly at it. A little impressed, he'll admit. But at least, it looks like, no one's going to be hurt. Not by what Darin is doing.]
[Why does he think he isn't part of their team, that they wouldn't need him around, when he's doing exactly what they would do? When he's making a shield of Voltron? Why wouldn't he be able to come back with them? Why couldn't whatever force was inherent in the Lions, in Voltron itself, be able to do something for this?]
[... it would mean relying on the mystical powers that be to clean up his mistakes, that's why.]
[He's hauled up, despite the ringing of the voices in his head, despite the dizzying fear and guilt choking him. "Any objections", he's asked.]
... Angela's house. Quick.
[They can argue all they want there. And maybe something better will come of it.]
no subject
[He doesn't mean to make it an order, but it comes out as one, regardless. If they hurt them, they really are the enemy. If they attack, they'll have no quarter if things escalate. Not fighting back might be the only thing they have. And, god... if they end up hurting civilians in the crossfire... they're no better than the enemy themselves.]
[- a monster like you - whispering in his mind and - all your fault - echoing in a refrain that keeps his limbs from moving when they should. Keeps him from doing anything but calling out in the hopes he'll be understood. In hopes his reasoning will be understood.]
[He doesn't want to think their friend was really giving up on them. He doesn't want to think they're going to all be separated. That this cobbled-together little family of theirs is going to break. None of that is appealing. None of that is anything he wants to focus on. He doesn't think he can, and keep himself put together.]
[One hand grabs for Darin again, as he steps from cover. A vain attempt to keep him back here, or keep him close at hand again. To keep him from leaving.]
[What happens instead is more surprising.]
[Instead of damage, there's only a shield. Like what they'd project in the training room or out of their armor. Like Allura would project in the command center of the castle. He's staring openly at it. A little impressed, he'll admit. But at least, it looks like, no one's going to be hurt. Not by what Darin is doing.]
[Why does he think he isn't part of their team, that they wouldn't need him around, when he's doing exactly what they would do? When he's making a shield of Voltron? Why wouldn't he be able to come back with them? Why couldn't whatever force was inherent in the Lions, in Voltron itself, be able to do something for this?]
[... it would mean relying on the mystical powers that be to clean up his mistakes, that's why.]
[He's hauled up, despite the ringing of the voices in his head, despite the dizzying fear and guilt choking him. "Any objections", he's asked.]
... Angela's house. Quick.
[They can argue all they want there. And maybe something better will come of it.]