[She's not telling him anything he doesn't already know. In some cases perhaps even better than her - unless she's twisted and screamed strapped down to a table that glows with ungodly purple runes that writhe unholy against her bare skin while bird skulled druids and a tightly smiling witch manually cut her rotting arm off of her. He doesn't fear Zarkon. He hates him. And he hates the Galra empire for what its done to his home planet and his people. But the level of emotion he feels for Haggar goes so much more feral and primal than that.
He does absorb that his chance at flying is in the balance, that she hasn't yet finished weighing whether she will give him the chance or not. And -
and she deserves that. He is untried, untested. A Trojan horse of a gift they both recognize as such and who knows just how deeply that treachery really goes. Whether there are layers and depths to it he doesn't realize yet that are waiting in the deep to surprise and destroy them both. He is only responsible for himself but she is responsible not just for her own people but, perhaps if this Voltron really is as amazing as she says, an entire universe's hope at redemption. She can't afford to be careless.
And she says she trusts him...
He feels the weight of that settle on his shoulders and he straightens them in response, back straightening as well. When was the last time he was given responsibility for anything, much less someone else's hope?]
I understand the stakes. [He's watched his entire people stripped from their home planet and killed or sold into slavery and tossed wide across the galaxy. He knows what the cost of losing to the Galra is. His metal hand flexes. He knows what the cost of losing is.]
And I'll fly your lion, if you let me. If it lets me. [A chance to finally fly. A chance - to fight? To finally hit back at what's attacked with impunity for so long.] Plant a dead's man switch in me. If I go rogue, you can kill me before I can turn anything over to the enemy.
no subject
He does absorb that his chance at flying is in the balance, that she hasn't yet finished weighing whether she will give him the chance or not. And -
and she deserves that. He is untried, untested. A Trojan horse of a gift they both recognize as such and who knows just how deeply that treachery really goes. Whether there are layers and depths to it he doesn't realize yet that are waiting in the deep to surprise and destroy them both. He is only responsible for himself but she is responsible not just for her own people but, perhaps if this Voltron really is as amazing as she says, an entire universe's hope at redemption. She can't afford to be careless.
And she says she trusts him...
He feels the weight of that settle on his shoulders and he straightens them in response, back straightening as well. When was the last time he was given responsibility for anything, much less someone else's hope?]
I understand the stakes. [He's watched his entire people stripped from their home planet and killed or sold into slavery and tossed wide across the galaxy. He knows what the cost of losing to the Galra is. His metal hand flexes. He knows what the cost of losing is.]
And I'll fly your lion, if you let me. If it lets me. [A chance to finally fly. A chance - to fight? To finally hit back at what's attacked with impunity for so long.] Plant a dead's man switch in me. If I go rogue, you can kill me before I can turn anything over to the enemy.