Quiznack
“Vrek!” Rentock shouts, stirring the cabin, “You awake back there, what is that alert going off?”
“Quiznack, I must have dozed off,” Vrek says, rubbing his eyes and looking at the panel in front of him. “There's another ship,” he tells Rentock, “directly above us.”
Lance wakes sluggishly to see Rentock lean forward over the ship’s dash and look up, then Keith stirs beneath him. He opens his eyes, now back to their normal color, and scans his surroundings. “Do you smell that?” he mutters.
“No?” Lance says. Keith looks down at the floor beneath them and Lance follows his gaze to find clouds of some sort of gas at their feet, pluming up to Kosmo’s nose. Keith sits up.
“There must be some sort of leak,” Keith says, and Lance moves off of him to let him stand. Once on his feet, Keith sways, then stumbles. Lance catches him by the arm, but Keith seems too busy shaking off his sudden dizziness to consider pulling himself back up.
“What’s another ship doing all the way out here?” Rentock says.
“Ship?” Keith repeats, eyes widening, “We’re being ambushed,” he realizes aloud. The first thing he does is turn to Lance and press the button on the side of Lance’s face, deploying his helmet. “We’re being ambushed, quiznacking punch it Rentock we need to get out of here!” Keith commands, voice rising and springing everyone into action.
“It’s not moving,” Rentock says, pushing the ship’s unresponsive controls. The door at the back of the ship flies open and the air is sucked out of the cabin. Lance grabs ahold of Keith with one arm, the other grasping one of the loose seat belts. Keith deploys his own mast and grabs hold of Kosmo. It’s then that an operative drops down from above to board their vessel, but Lance can’t think about stopping them, not when his hand is slipping. Despite the adrenaline, consciousness is escaping him, and he worries he may have inhaled too much of that gas before Keith deployed his helmet. He looks to his right to see that Ezor seems to have never woken up, and Kosmo remains unconscious in Keith’s grasp. In front of him Acxa looks like she’s struggling to shake off a similar stupor. Gritting his teeth, Lance refuses to surrender to this force dragging them all down.
But, Keith notices Lance’s grip slackening. He looks up to find his partner's crazed eyes, face pale with fear. Lance’s hand slips from the seatbelt supporting them and they fall, holding onto one another.
***
Lance wakes up to Keith’s voice, soft and sweet against his hair. He stirs, adjusting to sit up, but finds that he can’t. His hands are bound behind his back where he’s propped up against a cold wall. His breathing quickens and Keith’s voice comes again.
“Hey,” he says softly, and Lance looks to his left to find Keith there, looking down at him almost apologetically, “how are you feeling?”
“Where are we?” Lance asks in way of response.
“Some sort of brig,” Zethrid gruff voice answers from across the room. Lance looks around to see cold, cramped, metal walls. Definitely a cell.
“I’m a little woozy,” Lance answers honestly, “Is everyone else oka–”
The door scapes open before Lance finishes his question, the sound of old unkempt gears echoing through the room. A broadly built Galran man smirks down at them with two masked guards at his sides. “What do we have here?” the man says, looking directly at Keith, “The Black Paladin?”
Lance sneers, baring his teeth. “Who the fuck are you?” Lance asks. The man scoffs.
“You know, Voltron caused me quite a lot of trouble back in the day,” he continues.
“You were empire,” Keith observes, and the man hums.
“What I wouldn’t give to pay you back for what you’ve done,” he says, like he’s actively imagining it, his voice quieting as he steps in closer. He leans down close to Keith’s face and Lance practically growls, pushing forward to get between them. The man moves back, tutting, then he motions to his guards. “Hold that one down,” he orders.
“What?” Lance says, looking frantically between the enemies around them, all but helpless to resist.
“Wait,” Keith pleads. One of the guards approaches Lance, grabbing him by the back of the neck while he struggles, and the other points their gun at Zethrid, no doubt the most alert of the group due to her size. The leader of the group goes for Keith.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” Lance yells, kicking out to try and shake off the guard behind him. The leader buries his claws in Keiths hair and pulls. Lance screams when Keith grimaces, desperate but unable to lurch forward as Keith is hauled out of the cell. Lance gets no more than a distressed look sent his way before his partner is gone. Kosmo barely stirs in his corner of the cell, having inhaled too much gas from his position on the floor.
“I’m going to have my way with you,” Lance hears the leader’s voice echo from the hall. The guard holding Lance moves away to exit, like they’re done here, like Lance would let them go, and Lance manages a good kick to his knee, earning an aborted yelp of pain. The guard throws him back down against the wall, shaking out his leg.
“Give me a dobosh,” the guard grumbles to his partner. Their companion nods, raising their weapon higher, and the guard in front of Lance kicks him in the torso under his chest plate. Lance remains undeterred, struggling to get up and fight back until they kick him in the head, then the stomach again while he’s down. He lays on the ground coughing, and the guard laughs, turning to leave again.
Behind him Lance gets to his knees, wheezing as his diaphragm relearns how to contract. Then, as soon as his feet are in position, he uses the wall as leverage to push himself up and at the guard. Bearing his only weapon, his teeth, he bites down on the flesh of the guard's neck until he feels a crunch between his jaws.
The second guard stutters to get a clear shot, and Acxa takes the opportunity to push herself up from the wall and lunge. Lance tears a chunk of the first guard's throat out through the fabric of their uniform and his opponent staggers back, giving Lance the opportunity to body slam them into the nearest wall. With him unconscious and the other guard brought down, Lance twists awkwardly to grab the key on the guard’s belt. He opens his cuffs before immediately going for the guard’s weapon, pointing the gun at the guard’s head, and pulling the trigger. He disposes of the guard under Acxa with another shot of a purple laser.
Lance picks the keys back up and rushes to unlock Acxa’s cuffs before throwing them to her the moment she’s free. “Where are you going?” Acxa asks.
“I have to go after him,” Lance says.
“We should stay together,” Acxa says, grabbing Lance’s arm.
“I shouldn’t have let them take him in the first place,” he says, “I should have told them I was the red paladin.”
“If you’d said that they would have taken you too,” Ezor says.
“That’s the point! Then I would be with him!” Lance insists.
“Just stay here a moment, then we can all go together,” Zethrid says, “we’re sitting ducks chained up like this without a lookout.”
“I’m sorry,” Lance says, “You have Acxa, and you have each other, Keith needs me.”
He turns away from them, sparing a final glance at Kosmo, then takes the cuff of the guard’s uniform while Acxa starts on the others’ cuffs. Lance looks down the hall in the direction Keith was taken, and when he sees no one in his immediate path, he takes off running.
He moves quickly and quietly, replacing the cuff of his armor with the stolen one, then stops to look both ways at the first intersection he encounters. Spotting a guard approaching from the right, Lance flattens himself against the wall, gripping the gun in his hands. When the guard comes up on the corner, Lance takes the headshot. He prepares to move forward but fails to notice the guard was not alone. A shot wizzes by his head, and Lance quickly adjusts to re-aim his weapon before being tackled into the wall. His gun clatters to the ground in the struggle to point the guard’s weapon away from him, but he manages to use his weight to switch their positions against the wall. The guard drops his own gun, unfortunately putting it out of Lance’s reach. Instead, Lance finds a knife at the guard’s hip and quickly unsheathes it. He leaves little time for struggle before slicing their throat, then stoops to pick up a gun, and moves back down the hall in what he hopes is the direction Keith was taken.
At the next fork in his path Lance spots another guard. Once again, they’re in a pair, this time moving away from him. He waits for them to pass while contemplating his route and spots a small screen in the room across from him. He squints at it, making out the layout of rooms, and slinks closer when the guards have passed. The map is drawn in glowing purple lines and Lance follows them to find his position where he’s moves away from the cells, past the bridge and the barracks, and towards the control rooms on the other side of the vessel. His brow furrows, wondering if he had missed them in another cell in the brig, but he spots another room further along his path that lies large and unmarked. Perhaps the captain’s quarters are separate from the barracks, or it could be an open room like a training deck. Or a torture chamber, Lance’s mind supplies. He shudders at the thought. All of the options were terrible, but he supposes he will find out when he gets there. For now, he has to keep moving.
Lance moves as quickly as he can down the hall while still keeping his steps quiet, barely slowing at the intersections as he rushes towards the room on the map. The ship seems to be understaffed, typical for a Galra cruiser no longer supplied with centuries, and Lance makes his way through the halls with little trouble until he reaches a dead-end. He turns to find a final set of doors and, weapon raised, he approaches apprehensively.
When he holds up the cuff stolen from the guard, he steps back again as the door slides open before him. The gears don’t shriek or grind as the ones in the cell had, indicating a greater level of care. Lance exhales silently, attempting to steady his breathing and his disturbed heart, then walks forward. He is met with shelves lining the entryway and slips behind one, looking out at the rest of the room between the items stored there. Just in front of his face there’s neatly folded frilly clothing and to his left there’s a jar of something he tries his hardest not to identify, and through the disturbing items, he finds a chair in the middle of the otherwise baron room. It has a box next to it, hooked up to the chair with wires and equipped with a dial and straps for the wrists, ankles, and forehead. It’s a torture device Lance had become grossly acquainted with during the war, but Keith wasn’t in it. Peering through the shelves, Lance finds him on the other end of the room.
Keith’s form hovers over the cold floor, still bound and nose bloody. The man who took him has a hand around his throat, lifting him off the floor, and he leans forward into Keith’s face as he struggles. With a grin, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stipe up Keith’s cheek. Keith clamps his eyes shut and Lance’s blood boils.
Lance raises his weapon to aim, but his hand is pushed down as someone tall envelopes him from behind. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed,” the person hisses, clamping a hand over Lance’s mouth and pulling him back. As Lance tries to open his jaw to bite down on their hand, the man grabs his gun, then just leaves it on one of the shelves in front of them. The door behind them slides open when they get close enough and Lance grunts a noise of protest from his throat.
From the other side of the room Lance hears Keith gasp, coughing and sucking in air. “Just please, let the others go,” Lance hears Keith plead, and the leader chuckles darkly.
As the doors to the room close in front of him, Lance tries to scream through the hand covering his mouth. He squirms, stepping on the feet of the man behind him and earning another hiss and an attempt to hold him tighter, but Lance jumps in his hold as he adjusts his grip and rams his head back into his captor’s face. The grip around him loosens and Lance breaks free, turning on the man looking down on him to find he’s already pulled his gun from its holster. For a moment, Lance hesitates while his opponent keeps him pinned. The Galran’s uniform is different than the guards’ but Keith’s captor’s seems more embellished, making the man before Lance the possible second in command. Likely, Lance’s opponent is a veteran with a skill level that’s nothing to gawk at. But, fearing for his life won’t help the out of practice paladin save his partner, so he takes Keith’s advice and moves before his opponent can strike again. Lance drops into a low stance and lunges, tackling his opponent before he can get a clear shot and kicking his legs out from under him. His captor grabs him by the neck, twisting his legs around Lance’s and swapping their positions on the floor, smashing Lance’s head into the corner of the doorframe.
Even through the ringing pain in his head, it doesn’t escape Lance’s mind that having both of his opponent’s hands on him means he had dropped his gun. As the Galran descends on him, pulling Lance in by the collar and drawing back to punch him square in the face, Lance’s hand searches the floor frantically for the lost weapon. When he finds it by a stroke of luck, he presses it against the torso of the man above him.
The moment Lance pulls the trigger, the cruel smirk on the man above him instantly falls. Lance pushes the man off of him, leaving him writhing on the floor and reentering the room before them. This time, his breathing is heavy and his steps are loud, drawing attention. Lance slips behind one of the shelves, taking the gun left there as the man over Keith turns towards the door.
“What?” the captor demands of the closing doors, “I’m busy!” Lance rests the gun on the shelf like a rifle, taking aim, and with a grim satisfaction he fires. A violet laser scrambles in the air, hitting its target right in the temple as he turns back to look down at Keith, whose chest plate has been removed and shirt ripped open. The man falls and Keith scrambles away, looking around the room as Lance comes out from behind the shelf.
“Wha- how did you–” Keith tries to ask as Lance makes it to his side and snatches the keys from the captor’s belt. “Your head is bleeding,” Keith observes with concern. Lance removes Keith’s restraints with the stolen keys, eyeing his chafed wrists with a grimace.
“Are you alright?” Lance asks, cupping Keith’s face gently in his palm and wiping away some of the blood and saliva from his cheeks. Keith nods, though he clearly isn’t.
“Where are the others?” Keith asks.
“They’ll meet us back at the ship,” Lance says.
“We have to find my blade; it’s too far for me to summon.”
Lance nods. “And the duw crystals,” he adds, helping Keith get to his feet.
“He said that they weren’t there for the crystals,” Keith says, gesturing to the dead Galran at their feet, “but that the crystals were a ‘nice surprise’. They’re probably keeping them with the rest of the items they confiscated from us and the ship.”
“I think I saw where they’ll be keeping them. I came across a map on my way over and spotted a storage room back by the brig.” Keith nods.
Lance grabs Keith’s chest plate off the ground, struggling to fasten it back in place with shaking hands, and Keith helps him. He takes the blade from the ship’s commander and they turn for the door. As the light bleeds in from the hall from the door sliding open, Lance sees Keith sparing a sympathetic glance to the various trophies lining the walls.
Though Lance doesn’t think he hit any vital organs of the second in command, he is already dead when they make it into the hall. Keith looks pained when he sees the body and something in Lance’s stomach shifts uncomfortably before Keith looks back at him and nods reassuringly. Then they push forward.
Once the pair of them are moving, they work in efficient silence like the well attuned veterans they are. Their footsteps fall in line with one another silently, they turn each corner in sync, and a single look makes Lance stop in his tracks when Keith’s ears pick up something his cannot. They see each body Lance had dropped where he’d left them, lying undisturbed, until they approach their now empty cell and find a trail of bodies that is unfamiliar. They peer around the corner, watching a lone guard inspect the scene while relaying it on their comms. Keith waits for the guard to turn and readies his blade, but Lance takes a step away from the corner and Keith instantly stops to turn to him. Lance shakes his head. Wrong , he signs, using the small amount of ASL they had learned to communicate this way during the war. He points in the opposite direction of the trail of bodies, standing parallel to the door of the cell down the hall. Ship (sign rocket) right (directionally). Keith furrows his brow, looking back down the hall at the guard still standing there, who is likely waiting for backup. They, Keith signs, same us. C-R-Y-S-T-A-L-S, he spells out. Lance nods his understanding; he should have known that their team would go for the storage room as well rather than just securing the ship.
Keith raises his blade again and Lance gives him an affirming look before he moves, sprinting down the hall and cutting down the guard before they have time to react. Lance follows after him and they creep down the hall towards the end of the trail of carnage. When the storage room is in sight, they see Acxa outside the doorway with her borrowed gun pointed at them. Keith raises his hands in surrender, smiling, and Acxa drops the weapon with a relieved sigh. “It’s good to see you two are alright,” she says as they approach. She seems to inspect their injuries as they get closer, her expression solemn.
“Is anyone else injured?” Keith asks, and Acxa frown worsens.
“We lost Vrek,” she says.
“Lost as in–” Lance starts, and Acxa nods.
“As we were moving down this hall,” she says, “we took fire and he was hit.” She nods her head in the direction of the storage room and Keith walks in while Lance hesitates. “There was nothing you could have done,” Acxa says when she notices his hesitation, and Lance stands taller, nodding in thanks before following Keith.
Inside the storage room Zethrid, Ezor, and Agrona have armed themselves and pulled out the boxes housing the crystals. Kosmo is conscious, though still appears drowsy, and moseys over to greet Keith, tail wagging. Keith pats the wolf’s head when he brushes against Keith’s leg in a loving gesture, then his eyes find the unaccounted members of their team. By the feet of the table where the remaining weaponry lies, Rentok sits, Vrek laying in his arms with a bloody hole in his ribs and his eyes open. Rentok looks up at them and Lance feels like he’s going to puke. Keith kneels in front of them and summons his knife from the table, cutting off a piece of Vrek’s hood and tying it like a blindfold around his eyes. Rentok nods his thanks and Keith spares another moment to sit with them. By the time Keith stands to help Zethrid, Ezor, and Agrona, Rentok’s eyes turn to Lance. Lance realizes his breaths are coming ragged as his vision begins to blur. “Now’s no time to lose your nerve, paladin,” Rentok says, in a way Lance thinks is supposed to be reassuring rather than criticizing. Lance knows the others’ gaze has turned on him as well, so he nods.
There are six boxes of crystals and now seven of them. “I can carry two,” Zethrid says, “we need a free hand.” Lance tilts his head at her, prepared to say that there’s one less box than there are crew members, but he remembers Vrek. He knows the blade’s code is ‘fall behind get left behind’, but he also knows that Keith’s chosen team isn’t exactly made up of the most conventional blades. He amends the plan in his mind for Rentok to be carrying Vrek.
“So, who’s our free hand?” Lance asks, and the rest of the team looks to Keith.
“Acxa is our best option; she’s uninjured, fast, and versatile with both short and long range,” Keith says, “the rest of us will carry.” The others nod and pick up their boxes.
With all of their things in hand, Acxa gives them the ok to exit the storage room. She takes the front with Lance and Keith right behind her, and they move in formation down the hall. They make it past their cell undeterred, then past the first intersection.
“Do you think we got them all?” Ezor asks.
“Maybe they all decided it wasn’t worth trying after I shot down their leader and second in command,” Lance puts forth, and the others spare him a glance.
Ezor chuckles darkly, “I like that theory,” she says.
They make it down the final hall, then the hangar housing their ship is in sight. However, as is their luck, the moment they do the doors on the other side of the hall slide open, and the remaining crew of the ship floods in. Their team runs for the ship while Acxa returns fire, but just outside of the hangar doors a shot hits Lance’s leg. It pierces his armor and grazes his calf, pushing a scream from Lance’s chest as stumbles, dropping his crate. Keith turns back immediately, leaving his crate just beyond the doorframe and pulling Lance up by the arm.
When Lance reaches back for his crate Keith drags him away. But, despite the pain shooting up his leg, Lance won’t go so easily. He spares another glance at the bastards raining down on them and takes one of the detonators from Keith’s pack, setting the default timer and slamming it down on his crate. Keith’s eyes widen and he pulls Lance towards him with renewed haste. “Let’s go!” he shouts, and Acxa follows after them. She shoots the keypad to close the hangar doors behind them then moves for the opposing pad to open the airlock.
Kosmo arrives to teleport Keith and Lance onto the ship as the airlock threatens to suck them out into space, and at the same time their enemy pries the hangar doors open. Acxa propels herself onto the ship after them with the fifth crate in hand, then practically leaps over them to get to the controls while the ship’s ramp raises.
Meanwhile, Keith lowers Lance onto the floor in the center of the hull. As Keith adjusts his leg, Lance starts firing off the curses he’d been holding back since the shot hit him. He runs through every Spanish swear he knows and starts firing off Japanese curses he picked up from Shiro, and still the pain refuses to ease.
The bomb goes off behind them and the ship rocks. “What the hell was that?!” Zethrid demands, struggling to secure the last crate, but Keith doesn’t answer, too concerned with Lance’s writhing. Then the ship takes off. A red alert goes off in the corner of Lance’s helmet, rather unhelpfully because Lance doesn’t know what ‘apoptosis’ means, and so his vision strays from the flashing icon. Through his view of the front dash he spots loose crystal shards and the bodies of their captors floating in open space around them. He would be proud, though at the moment he is more concerned with trying to remember if taking a shot from a blaster had ever hurt this bad before. He registers Keith removing the armor on his leg and tying something tightly around his thigh, then Zethrid coming to inspect his wound while Ezor and Agrona kneel to either side of his head.
“Why does it look like that?” Keith asks, his voice too loud.
“They aren’t normal blasters,” Agrona says.
“What does that mean? Keith demands, “What do we do?” When Zethrid looks up from inspecting Lance’s leg her face is cold.
“We have to amputate,” she says.
“What?! No,” Keith says harshly. The following shouting is dulled to Lance’s ears and Ezor and Agrona come to kneel by his head.
“This is going to hurt,” Agrona tells him while Ezor lifts his head to rest it on her thighs. Ezor runs a hand through his hair soothingly, humming a tune unfamiliar to him, and his heart beats faster until he feels dizzy. Lance scrambles for Keith's hand, who is still fighting with Zethrid, and when he finds it he squeezes tight. Keith’s words to die in his throat as he turns to meet Lance’s eyes.
“Keith,” Lance says, voice ragged, “it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Keith protests, “Every part of you matters!”
“We have to do it before the poison enters his bloodstream,” Rentok interrupts, his voice carrying from where he sits across the cabin with Vrek in his arms, “We won’t make it to the nearest planet in time.”
“He’ll die,” Zethrid says, “or he’ll just lose a leg.” Keith looks frozen in horror, unable or unwilling to utter the command.
“Just do it,” Lance says, “please.” Zethrid furrows her brow and draws her blade. Keith flinches.
“Wait,” he demands, “there has to be a way, some sort of magic,” he tries as Acxa leaves her place at the helm to join them, pulling Keith back by his shoulders.
“I can’t, Keith,” Lance says, feeling exhausted, “it will be ok.” He clasps Keith’s hand, stopping Acxa from pulling him away further. Keith's gaze doesn’t stray from Lance’s eyes as Ezor injects Lance’s neck with a sedative, nor as his dizziness fades to delirium and the edges of his vision black out. Zethrid moves around to his left side, positioning his limbs, then she lifts up her sword and brings it down to slice through flesh.
***
Keith elbows Acxa in the stomach, hard, and lurches forward once he’s free of her grip. He looks between Lance’s unconscious expression and his amputated limb, settling on brushing Lance’s hair out of his face delicately before his fingers slide down to his neck to check for a pulse. When he finds it beating steadily he turns back to Zethrid, eyes yellow and teeth bared. Zethrid’s blade is still in hand, dripping with Lance’s blood, and she watches Keith cautiously. The fight goes out of Keith as quickly as it came and he turns his attention back to Lance, at which Zethrid’s posture relaxes slightly. “We have to stop the bleeding,” Acxa says, cradling her stomach. Keith notices but doesn’t have it in him to apologize.
“I’ll take the helm,” Rentock says, laying Vrek down carefully on the floor of the cockpit and moving to the pilot’s chair.
“We should cauterize,” Zethrid offers. As they’re speaking Keith notices the alert on Lance’s helmet and cautiously removes it to observe the information it provides. There is a scan of Lance’s injuries and a bright red alert reading ‘ cytotoxicity detected; apoptosis temporarily halted’
“What the quiznack is apoptosis?” Keith asks, noting the area highlighted on the scan of Lance’s body, just above the amputation point.
“It’s programmed cell death,” Acxa says, “it must have been activated by the lazers.”
“Do you need me to cut higher?” Zethrid asks.
“Any higher above the knee and you’ll cut into the main part of his femoral artery,” Acxa says, and Zethrid frowns.
“Better than that shit getting into his bloodstream,” Zethrid argues.
“Not really,” Ezor says.
“It says it’s stopped advancing,” Keith cuts in, “right now we need to stop the bleeding.” Keith holds out his arm and Zethrid angles her blade away from herself. Keith presses the button to activate his suit’s laser, heating the blade to prepare to cauterize.
***
“We’re not sure what caused the advancement to slow, but I can assure you that the amputation was still necessary,” the doctor says, and Keith nods. “He’s stable now,” she says, gesturing to the healing pod beside them where Lance sleeps, “but it will be a while before he wakes. Have you contacted the family?” Keith nods again, unable to form words, “Good. Well then you should be getting back to bed, he wasn’t the only one injured.” Keith doesn’t move. “I can assure you, here on Altea, you and your friends will be safe and taken care of.” The sound of footsteps approaches from behind him, and Keith looks up to be met with none other than Shiro’s worrying gaze. Keith sinks in on himself further and the doctor clears her throat. “I’ll leave you to it,” she says with a nod, turning for the door. The moment the doors slide shut behind her, Keith breaks down and Shiro is there to catch him.
It isn’t long before Coran returns with the rest of the team and the Mcclain family, having been the one to contact everyone and arrange their travel. Lance’s siblings wait outside while his parents enter to see him first, and Keith doesn’t dare look them in the eye. He hears Lance’s mother’s pained gasp when she sees him, and he sees Hunk’s shoes standing beside them and doesn’t need to see his face to know what he looks like in a moment like this. Pidge and Coran walk towards him and Shiro, and Kosmo shifts where he lays on Keith’s feet to look up at them. Keith finds himself wishing that they would just do him the mercy of saving their pity for the rest of his team. But they both sit beside him offering their support wordlessly. Keith’s vision strays from his shoes to see Veronica enters the room next with Acxa at her side, their hands clasped tightly together. Then, Keith’s eyes make the mistake of straying to see Rachel watching from the door, wearing the most twisted expression he’s ever seen on her.
As Keith curls back in on himself, he hears more footsteps approach. They stop in front of him and Keith swallows thickly when he recognizes Mrs. Mcclain’s shoes. When she reaches out for his face to tilt his chin upwards, Keith doesn’t dare breathe. He still doesn’t meet her eyes, instead finding Shiro’s wary expression as Lance’s mother inspects him. His nose is still bloody after he refused any extensive form of treatment, and his face is bruised. He hasn’t changed his clothes since he arrived nor cleaned himself beyond washing the blood from his hands, though it remains a stain on his palms and is still lodged beneath his fingernails. Mrs. Mcclain turns his head towards her and their eyes finally meet. Her face is hardened, and Keith can’t read what she wants from him from her expression. He knows the whole room is frozen, watching them, waiting. Keith exhales.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes shakily, unable to fend off the tears coming to his eyes, and Mrs. Mcclain’s expression folds into something sad. Disappointed, Keith thinks. But then her hands leave his face, and her arms wrap around him. He remains frozen as she hugs him and pets down his hair.
“He won’t want you blaming yourself when he wakes up,” she says, “best to be through with that now.”
Tears finally fall from Keith’s eyes as he tries to hold back his sobs. “It’s my fault,” he hiccups.
“No. Lance made his own choices,” she refutes, “And neither of you put yourselves in danger willingly. Now you’re both going to be alright, because you protected one another.”
Keith doesn’t disagree, doesn’t dare tell her what she already knows: that Lance isn’t ‘alright’. He lets her comfort him, despite her words not reaching, and looks over her shoulder at Lance, who has new scars despite his wish to leave the battlefield. Because of him .
***
The healing pod hisses open and Lance falls, being caught by strong arms. He looks up to find Shiro is the one holding him, and when he turns Hunk is wrapping him in a blanket. He feels a strange sense of familiarity, and even deja vu, until his mother steps forward, teary eyed. She embraces him and he hugs her back, but Shiro remains holding him up.
“We’re so glad you’re okay,” his mother whispers. He looks up to see his family– both his families– present, and finds Keith among them standing a few paces away, expression unreadable. The others all give him pitying looks, and Lance glances down at himself to see what all the fuss is about, ready to crack a joke.
“Oh,” is all that comes out of his mouth instead. His left leg ends just above the knee and Lance blearily recalls the shot he had taken and the call for amputation. He looks up at Shiro. “Does this mean we’re going to match now?” he asks. Shiro’s face breaks into a grin and Lance feels proud. He hears Pidge sigh like he’s just too ridiculous for them to handle.
Coran laughs, “Yes, we’ll have you fit as a fiddle with a new prosthetic in no time.”
“Good to have you back,” Shiro says.
“Good to be back,” Lance counters, “How long have I been out exactly?”
“Three days,” Rachel says, glaring at him.
“Umm… sorry?” Lance offers.
Rachel stomps towards him and drags him into a hug. Lance wobbles and would fall if not for Shiro still supporting him. “Do you know how worried I was?” Rachel asks.
“Sorry,” Lance says again, though he’s looking over her shoulder at Keith. Keith’s nose is bandaged, and he still looks bruised despite the clear availability of healing pods, meaning he must have been stubborn in his refusal of care.
They usher Lance into a wheelchair to take him into a new room, this one with a bed and a nurse to check his vitals. After getting the ok, meaning he’s happy and healthy, the rest of Lance’s families comes forward with similar sentiments to Rachel and his mamá, though Keith doesn’t say a word to him, remaining at the back of the crowd. “Shiro,” Lance says eventually, after everyone has gotten a hug, “What’s up with him?” he asks, gesturing to Keith.
Shiro sighs. “He feels guilty about what happened, just give him time,” he recommends.
Lance groans, drawing attention. “Figures,” he says, “Always so dramatic.” Shiro raises an eyebrow like ‘ he’s dramatic? ’ and Lance charitably chooses to ignore it. “Can I get a moment alone with him please?”
Shiro looks hesitant but nods. His mamá overhears and seems to understand. Both the Mcclains and team Voltron are ushered out and Keith looks ready to follow before Shiro stops him. “We’ll see you later, my boy,” Coran says, and Lance waves. Shiro escorts Keith back to Lance’s bedside and he seems to realize what’s happening.
“Maybe you can convince him to hop in a healing pod for a few hours,” Shiro suggests.
“I’m on it,” Lance says, and Keith rolls his eyes. After one more nervous look between them Shiro departs, even Kosmo joining him, and they hear him shooing away Hunk and Pidge who had been lingering at the door.
“How are you feeling?” Keith asks when the voices of their team fade away down the hall.
“I’m fine,” Lance assures, “you heard Coran, they’ll hook me up with a prosthetic.”
Keith nods, though he looks tense.
“How’s the rest of the team?” Lance asks.
“Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor, and Agrona are all fine. Rentock is taking Vrek’s death harder than the rest of us, though of course we’re all grieving.”
“Were they together?” Lance asks, “Rentok and Vrek?”
“I think so,” Keith says, “I think it was a recent development.”
“I can’t imagine,” Lance says honestly, staring meaningfully into Keith’s eyes. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Lance–” Keith starts, but Lance doesn’t let him finish.
“Come here,” Lance says, turning to let his leg hang off the edge of the bed and reaching out for Keith’s face. Keith looks like he’s going to refuse, so Lance prompts him again. “Let me see,” he says, and expectantly Keith folds. Lance turns Keith’s head from side to side in his hands, then tries to peel up the bandage on his nose, apologizing when Keith winces. “You really should let them treat this,” he says, lightly dabbing at the puffy bruise beneath Keith’s eye. “Do they know what happened?” Lance asks.
“No one saw it except you,” Keith says. It , Lance’s mind echoes, bringing up images of that slimy bastard touching Keith.
“You haven’t told anyone?”
“They know those ex-empire goons were after me,” Keith says.
“It’s not your fault,” Lance says, he can tell Keith doesn’t agree.
“You have a new scar here,” Keith says, gently touching the right side of Lance’s forehead, just above his temple. “And there were bruises smattering your torso.”
“I took some hits from the guards,” Lance tells him.
“Listen…” Keith says, “You can’t go back out there.”
“What?” Lance asks, “Keith, I’m the one that got everybody out. If I hadn’t been there the mission would have been a bust and–”
“I don’t care about the mission, and I don’t give a fuck if I’m not supposed to say so! I don’t give a flying quiznack about those stupid crystals,” Keith proclaims in a sudden outburst.
“Don’t say that,” Lance whispers.
“I care about you ,” Keith practically shouts, “I love you!”
“I know,” Lance says softly, “but that’s why you need to listen to me. I wanted to be out there; I’m glad that I was,” he insists, “This was just a mistake, we can take more precautions next time.”
Keith shakes his head.
“But for now,” Lance continues, “I want you to take some time off.”
“Time off?” Keith repeats.
“I want you with me, on Earth, while I’m recovering. Will you do that for me?”
“Of course,” Keith says insistently, “I would do anything,” he says, voice breaking, “ Anything , Lance, I'm so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Lance says, reaching out to pull Keith into his arms.
Much later, when Lance pulls away again Keith stays close. “I want you to let them treat you,” he says, and Keith huffs. “No, I’m serious. You heard Shiro, just give it a few hours in a healing pod and then I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Fine,” Keith concedes, his hands finding Lance’s waist. Lance stares up at him.
“I thought they were going to kill you,” Lance confesses, his eyes glossy. Keith leans his forehead against Lance’s.
“I’m here,” he says, and Lance is grateful it’s not another apology. Keith’s hand find’s Lance’s and he places something cold in Lance’s palm. When he looks down he finds the crystal bracelet from Montressor, lighting up with the colors of a sunset in his palm. Lance smiles, looking around Keith’s neck for his pendant to find the chain peeking through from under his shirt. Lance pulls the pendant out, watching the colors dance before letting it go to rest on Keith’s chest.
“I love you,” Lance says, and Keith smiles despite the sadness lingering in his eyes.
“I know.”