Shiro lied in bed and stared at the ceiling.

He'd sat like this for half an hour now. He wanted to stay well rested, and hoped that the solution to his problems would reveal itself in a dream or that he'd somehow find it in a moment of inspiration in the morning. But the thoughts nagged at him, keeping him from being tired enough to fall asleep, but not awake enough to keep him from feeling guildy about staying awake. So he decided to use his time awake to try and think about the things keeping him up.

Today was the second day Keith had ventured off somewhere into the vast vacuum of space. He was already growing more distant and disagreeable outside the fights, which was bad enough, but it started to creep up during the fights, which was becoming a liability. If the next galra construction arrived while he was away, they might not even be able to form Voltron. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

So Shiro felt compelled to think: