Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The paladins descended upon the planet, Lance fought off a smile as he thought about the name, Ogore. Oh gore, he thought. It described the inhabitants well, their strangely opaque scales barely hiding the pink soft flesh underneath. Giving it a shiny gloss over their muscular builds. A gross image of course, but somewhat lightened by the planets unintentional description of them.

They were in the thick fog now, undetectable by anyone but themselves. The screens on the lions blared, warning of toxic fumes and low vision. Allura and Pidge warned them this would happen earlier, so Lance only slightly panicked over the surprise of the blaring warnings, but softened shortly after. Though he wondered if the lions would be impacted by toxic fumes. Did they have lungs to be filled? Or their engines maybe?

 It was hard to get his head around whether the lions were just giant ships with sentience or something more. Oh well, he'd leave it to Pidge and Hunk to figure out— or maybe Coran knew already, but he whenever he asked Coran about anything related to the castle of lions. It was always a good couple of hours of rants that were half translated, leaving Lance to grasp at the limited vocabulary left behind.

They had formed up close together. Pidge and Keith at the front, with Lance and Hunk following behind, despite his protests for him to lead. Allura insisted that this formation was best, especially once they found the last paladin, as the black paladin would simply fill the missing place. Rather than confuse them all with an entirely new configuration.

Mainly, Lance just took issue with it because Keith was in front. Keith who forgot him after leaving school, despite how neck and neck their rivalry went. Lance the underdog— everyone loves the underdog — and Keith the hot head delinquent bully. In the end Lance won out, but not very satisfactorily, seeing as Keith left before he was truly beaten. Maybe out of  fear of Lance's potential. A smirk grew over his face— he knew it must be true.

"Lance are you focusing?" Keith prompted over the mic

Lance had forgotten that each of their cameras were plastered on everyone screens to make sure if communications were cut, they could still see each other for at least a moment before it was fully disappeared.

"Yes, just focus on your own flying." Lance whined.

Keith motioned to continue the argument, bland expression revealing all the words he was about to say— so easy to rile him up— but he was cut off by Pidge's voice.

"I see our landing spot, I set all of our lions to highlight where each of us will land."

Lance switched his focus back, Ogore was an already dark planet, barely receiving any light from any of the three suns surrounding it— unfortunately still gaining the putrid heat from them all though. The lions could fend it off with their cabin's regulatory systems, out loading the heat back outside. But once they exited, it would be impossible to escape, even for the short distance between the fog and the nearby galra structure.

Lance landed without issue, perfectly within his aligned segment. Hunk took a little longer, just because of yellow's size. The heat combined with little sunlight left the planets environment overly moist and unstable. One wrong step could lead to a whole section concaving into a sink hole.

Hunk pumped his fist victoriously, it was easy to forget he had only just started flying a few months ago. But he still wasn't great, self admittedly, but Lance thought he should give himself more credit. After all, he only had a couple of times where vomiting was threatened, a couple more times where he actually did. The yellow lion eventually popped out a vomit bucket which seemed to help. Lance wondered if his lion would have any counter measures for him.

"Alright lets go." Keith ushered.

They all shifted out of their seats, lions closing their screens down. Limiting their functions was part of the plan, leave as little trace of them being left there, to avoid galra attacking without the paladins aware.

Lance patted the doorway out of the cockpit. He didn't know if the lion would understand the gesture, but he did it nonetheless. Seemed appropriate.

The lion lowered its jaw before opening, but once it did, Lance was blasted with the fog, filling his vision. His heart skipped a beat. The way it moved was almost like water. Drowning his senses, filling the void around him with stagnant air that could be his end. If not for his paladin helmet and armour.

Pidge made sure that the lions all faced inwards, allowing the paladins to easily find each other, link arms and continue forwards towards the galra structure. It wasn't large by any means, rather small above ground— underneath however was where the magic happened. In order to support the structure, the galra had to build downwards rather than the skyscrapers Lance and the others were used to.

It held up better in the ground against the blaring heat, as the soil underneath carried the coolness of an ocean. Also the sludge it resulted in— Lance lifted his feet, perturbed by the growing mass of mud collecting all over his boots.

"Can't we just use our jet packs to fly over?" He drawled, drawing out each word as if the sentence would be more impactful the longer it lasted.

Hunk giggled "Come on Lance, it's not that bad." He managed to flick up a chunk of mud in his direction. Lance twisted to dodge it— but unwillingly placed Pidge off balance— and the mud landed atop her helmet.

She glared, obviously too tired to return the favour, she must've barely slept last night. Something to note Lance thought. Maybe he could check in with her about her sleeping habits. He understood it was hard to sleep with so much riding on them, but sleep was still heavily needed, both for beauty and for function on a day to day basis— mainly for beauty for Lance though.

"Keep moving." Keith pulled, he was at the front of the line. A man of few words, but each one was always like a stick in the mud to Lance.

Lance decided to be the bigger person— yep that is what this was, one more point to Lance— and continued forward.

They must have been getting close, the journey itself from the lions to the galra was only a few clicks. Soon after, they started to hear explosions, the attack must've begun already. Made sense, the rebels of this planet were to attack first, leaving the galra open to attack from behind, once they secured the control room, the paladins could shut down the sentry bots. Which was technically all this galra base had, a few galrans must've been there at one point, to take over Ogore, but had since moved on to other parts of the galaxy. Making this mission an easy success.

*****

The heavy gasses began to dissipate, nearing the edge. Pidge tugged Keith and Lance's hand, silently pulling out her pad. She began scanning for their entrance. Both Keith and Lance overbearingly hovered her shoulders, Lance was prepared to race Keith to the entrance, even if Keith didn't realise, Lance was going to get another point in his corner.

Another explosion sounded, a few clicks over, smoke begun to rise at the front of the galran base. That was their cue that the rebels of this planet were succeeding. They needed to join in to present a united front, the galaxy was wary of voltron. Never seeing it fully formed since 10,000 years before them. They needed to provide hope for those they could.

Lance understood the importance of hope and having something to turn to in times of need. His parents and family were that for him, and he would be that for the galaxy.

Pidge managed to lock onto the signal of a nearby window, it was low enough that all of them could jump to it with ease. And small enough that it did not warrant security at all times.

They all unlocked hands, shared one last look between them, before bolting towards the window. Using their jetpacks to propel themselves further and faster, avoiding detection of cameras and heat signature scanners. It was a mere moment before each one scrambled up the window, one after the other. Keith managed to make it before Lance, offering a hand to everyone after him, including Lance. He took it like a damsel in distress almost falling back out.

"I'll drop you." Keith blandly stated.

Lance picked himself up, sticking his tongue out.

Turning his focus to the hallway in front of them, Lance activated his bayard. This mission he was not going to miss, he was going to prove himself to be the sharp shooter of the team. 

****

The team had entered a desolate area. No guards left behind, as the threat of the looming rebels was priority one for the sentries.

They were zooming through the hallways, cautionary still— Lance would clear every corner before they moved on. Pidge had downloaded a map beforehand, making the journey to the control centre succinct. As exploration of the building wasn't needed.

Lance spotted a sentry guarding the final door. He lined up the shot, straight for the head— where Pidge had stated the main functions of the robots relied on the integrity of. His blast went straight through the eye and back out the other side. Knocking the head clean off with the force.

But the sentry still stood. Strange, should have fallen over by now. Lance held up a hand, signalling that the hallway ahead was not clear.

Hunk shuffled to provide assistance when signalled for and Keith did the same. As Pidge held up her pad to scan, she detected something.

"There's a heat signature by the doorway." She stated, a little confusion in her voice.

Previous scans indicated that no one but sentries were left here. Maybe outdated data was to blame?

"How many?" Keith asked, his brows furrowed, he was ready to bolt towards the door and take out whoever was left. But not before he knew the entire situation.

"Just the one." Pidge Responded.

There was an edge to her voice, slightly uncertain, if only one galra was left behind, what would the reason be? And would they be a simple caretaker left to check over the sentries? Or someone more nefarious?

The sentry begun to move, it's arm lifting up. Almost in a waving motion? What.

The arm was then dislodged, and came hurling towards Lance, whoever was there seemed to have a sense of humour. Lance folded to the ground, dodging the arm, then screeched towards the wall where everyone else situated themselves.

Lance let out a victorious sigh, one point Lance, zero points to this other guy.

"Okay so what's the plan?" Hunk asked.

They all shared a look. None of them were made for leading, that was for sure. Situations like this made them realise they had a missing link they were yet to meet. But Lance could at least step in, he could be the sharp shooter leader everyone looked towards. Maybe black would finally open its heart and let Lance in, then Allura or Coran could take over Blue. But at the same time, he didn't really want to change, blue was nice.

Lance shook off the thought, this situation wouldn't be the end all be all, he had to compartmentalise. Shift his focus back to the present. The current danger, the current environment, the current teammates.

He and hunk both had long range capabilities, Pidge in a way did too— though she may not be up for chucking her bayard again from a long distance. Keith could run in with the proper cover fire. Seemed like it all fit in well enough. So he reiterated the plan to the rest of them.

"I could keep behind hunk and scan for it's movements." Pidge offered.

Great, Lance knew she'd be able to fit in somewhere, he just needed the suggestion. Teamwork makes the dream work he thought smugly.

Lance launched into action, covering the right side of the hallway, so that hunk could cover the left where they currently resided.

Just as he hit the right wall, he heard a tick ahead— a fuse was lit, it rushed towards the rest of the paladins.

"Wait get back!" Lance yelled.

Hunk obeyed, unsure as to why but held everyone back. Hunk was trusting like that, especially with Lance after how long they've relied on each other.

The fuse wrapped around the hallway before reaching up to the ceiling. It then blew, blocking the hallway, trapping everyone else on the other side— and Lance, alone.

Okay, he could do this. Just had to figure out what this was.

He knew the hallway had no cover, but his gun could provide that for him, he just had to play both parts of his plan. Be the long range shooter, and be the one to rush in.

He aimed at the door, knowing he could keep it steady enough as he ran forwards. He began sprinting towards it, firing a shot in line with each step. Taking care to spread them out across the door, leaving whoever was in there unsure of when or where they could peek out to stop him.

Something bounced from the doorway onto the floor, Lance hopped it was a distraction, it wasn't a bomb, or else he would've been fried by now. Galra did have victory or death, but hopped this did not mean they would give up so easily. Especially when the upper hand was not with Lance currently.

It cracked open, okay— maybe now Lance couldn't ignore it, he shot it a quick glance. Oh no.

It was a smoke grenade. Puffing and covering the entire hallway. He quickly covered his head out of pure instinct. The helmet would protect him of smoke inhalation, but the galra smoke grenades also covered their targets in purple paint. Making sure he could still see with what little vision smoke allowed him was important.

He moved his arms down, switching his helmets mode to heat vision. It crackled as it tried to work itself out. Pidge had modified hers to the heat of the planet, but Lance did not have that luxury.

It continued to crackle, before Lance saw a purple blast headed straight for him. Too fast to provide him with proper time to react. It hit the same shoulder that was previously injured in the last mission.

The healing pods healed it to full function, so this was just a new injury to deal with luckily— not one made worse by another blast.

Lance fired from where the blast must've come. He heard a grunt, and then something slammed on the ground— hard.

Did he? Did he hit it? Could it have been that easy?

Lance checked his surroundings, still barely visible, but could see a window nearby shining in light.

"Guys can you come through the window?" Lance questioned.

"Already on it." Keith managed. They must've been trying to find a way there before he mentioned it.

Cool. Cool. Backup was arriving.

Lance shifted focus back to where he stood. He needed to confirm whether the galra was down for good. Pidge could do that without searching aimlessly through the smoke, but he would have to wait for her to reach him.

He held onto his bayard tightly, ready for any movements that caught his eye.

The smoke shifted slightly, Lance shot instinctively. One shot as to hopefully not reveal his position overly. He pushed himself against the left wall of the hallway.

Pain shot through his shoulder, he needed to avoid aggravating the injury, but with adrenaline coursing through his veins, it became hard to focus on— as his survival took precedence over potentially spending longer in the healing pods.

That was when he heard a loud humming, some sort of machinery had been switched on. He saw a purple glow to his right, twisting with the bayard in front of him. He aimed his shot, but not before the purple switched off.

And a large metal hand pressed against his helmet, slamming him into the wall.

Chapter Text

Lance had warned them of the collapse ceiling. Hunk trusted him fully, protecting the other two before they rushed in and were crushed by it.

Even so, that didn't stop the anxieties growing in his gut. They were forced to leave Lance, alone, even if it was momentarily. It was not optimal, no definitely not.

Pidge checked her pad — immediately find a window to the outside, letting them wrap back around the building to reach Lance. She sprinted towards it with Hunk and Keith in tow.

Pidge put the pad away and Hunk took the opportunity to go first. Using his jetpack to help keep afloat, he scaled across the building. The structure had the usual purple tones of the galra, with a few ledges to help keep them balanced. Without them and the jetpacks, a fall from this height would be lethal. They were all focused on reaching Lance, words barely passed between them. All having the mutual understanding that they were better together than apart. And one of them separate just wouldn't do.

Hunk grasped at the window. Shuffling himself in, he felt like he was purely running off adrenaline. It caused his muscles to tense up, his lungs tried their best to catch any oxygen it could, but his anxiety made it ever more onerous. Any breath he got was a welcomed sight. His eyes begun darting every which way, trying to find any semblance of Lance. He was looking, looking then caught a small motion of movement. Lance's head was slammed into the wall, body following suit straight to the ground. The black armoured figure stood above him, but didn't attack further, instead it looked directly at Hunk. Immediately tucking tail back into the shrouded air. 

Lance's shoulder was bleeding profusely, the sudden jolt against the floor dislodged a blood vessel. Expelling more and more blood to the floor, cooling the burnt muscles surrounding it. Even in the foggy environment, it was all too easy to see the smoke piling off the injury.

Hunk raised his bayard. With Lance in a sure position on the floor, he knew he wouldn't hit any allies. So he shot every direction, every single angle the hallway had to offer. He kept his efforts up, as Keith and Pidge clambered up the window behind him.

His constant shooting begun to dissipate the smoke, pushing it back revealing the hallway little by little. It was obvious now that Lance had passed out completely. It was almost lucky in a way that he did, the pain he would be feeling would have been excruciating. Hunk quickly noted that the blow to his helmet had left a small dent, but overall the integrity of it was not compromised. He would not have been breathing in any of Ogore's air. It wasn't exactly toxic, but did not have enough oxygen for humans to breathe.

"Allura, Lance is down." Keith murmured over the radio.

"I'm landing the castle now, please get him to a safe location for extraction." She replied. Voice unwavering, she had confidence in them, even with injuries being common. The castle could always heal anything and everything. Right now, that confidence was something they sorely needed. Hunk moved over to Lance, he could protect Lance whilst Keith applied bandages— being a close quarters fighter meant that injuries were harder to avoid, so he was never in short supply. He saw Keith instantly understand, wrapping Lance's shoulder and applying pressure to the wound. Keith kept his eyes pressed on Lance. Hunk knew he was best kept here, to keep Lance stable as they could. So it would be up to him and Pidge now.

The hallway itself was empty, but that did not mean that the control room was. They needed to move forwards, the mission was to switch off the sentries. They couldn't abandon it yet when they were so close. No matter how much Hunk wanted to. He looked over at Pidge, she shifted the pad around, pointing silently at the heat scan. The soldier was still there. If they were quiet enough, perhaps they could catch it off guard.

They both stepped in tandem, keeping their volume to a minimum. Even from the outside, they could hear the soldier tapping away at the controls. It was sporadic and loud, rushing to click as many buttons as possible. Hunk peeked around the corner of the door, he could see it standing over the control panel. It's right hand was unmoving— hovering over one section, the other sporadically typing in commands.

Pidge mimed throwing her bayard at the soldier, Hunk nodded and gave a thumbs up as response. She nodded back, miming a three, two, one... Immediately launching her bayard forwards, this time it was a direct hit, wrapping around the soldier's leg. She brought it over to Hunk, he deactivated his bayard and grasped both hands at the green line. 

"Now!" Pidge shouted.

They both heaved, pulling as hard as they could. The soldier's leg flew out from under it. Centre of balance now completely lost, it's head slammed into the table. They continued to pull until it was flat on the floor.

Just as the soldier fell. The screen above lit up red with a timer. Had it set the place to blow? There was no warnings, no evacuation protocols being blasted over the speakers— it must have set something else. But what? There was nothing else galra on the planet except for—

"It's set the sentries to blow." Pidge whispered. Her tone was urgent, but her volume was opposite— as if the soldier not being able to hear their collective realisation gave them the upper hand.

The soldier shook it's head, seemingly orientating itself in the room once more. It slide its right hand towards the green bayard, causing Pidge to quickly retract it. It took a second to consider the both of them, as Pidge and Hunk did the same with it.

They were blocking it's only exit, but it was blocking their only way of turning off the sentries. The soldier shifted around to face them, now in a sitting position, it titled it's head to the side. Was it thinking? Just as quickly as the thought occured, it flung out it's right hand, Hunk instinctively activated his bayard ready for an attack. But it seemed like the soldier just froze. 

Was it backing down? Hunk continued to aim in, he didn't know what to do. He looked around the masked figure, it certainly looked frozen, but he saw the tiniest bit of movement from it's left arm. It was reaching behind it's back. Ever so slowly to give the guise of surrender. 

"Stop!" Hunk yelled.

He didn't know how to get someone to back down, this hadn't really been in their training yet. Though it did seem to work, the soldier freezing once again. Silence filled the room. The only murmur of sound was the translator in the soldier's helmet. Emminating a poorly sounding sequence of words. For some reason it provided multiple translations for the singular word Hunk had spoken. 

The soldier's arm reached down, was it going to put both hands up? Hunk shifted, maybe it was really going to back down now.

He lowered his bayard slightly, hoping for the best. The soldier continued to move it's arm down, slowly but surely, it revealed the upper arm, then the elbow, followed by the forearm and finally the hand, also a knife and a smoke grenade. Wait no what? The arm flicked too fast Hunk barely saw it, he fired two shots. They flew every which way, why was he so shakey?

The first shot missed, flying straight into the wall. The second flew close by the knife, missing it by just a hair. He needed to try again, so he pulled the trigger. The knife was heading straight for Pidge, it felt like it was flying for 5 minutes, but Hunk knew it had only been seconds. Pidge pitched out her bayard, blocking the knife. Hunk still had his hand on the trigger, as he moved his bayard back towards the soldier. The smoke grenade had landed on the floor and it was going to explode within a matter of moments. 

He shot at it, just as he did, he saw the soldier moving behind the grenade. It was lurching forwards, shifting it's feet to launch towards them both. Hunk's shot at the grenade missed, but flew straight towards the soldier. A direct hit that Hunk never intended.

The yellow blast hit right at it's torso. The armour was almost paper thin, as Hunk saw it shredding on impact, revealing newly hot melted flesh underneath. Blood seeping out from underneath, piling on the floor as the soldier begun grasping at falling organs. Hunk could see the beginnings of scalded bones, now stained a permanent black. All of the soldier's efforts to sprint towards them had halted. 

Now it was crouching on the floor, it looked down at it's torso and a galra screech filled the room. It was horrid, an awful grating noise that sounded like the soldiers voice was often left unused. The translator in their helmets tried to convert it to english. Buffering and extending the sound well past it's time. 

He saw the soldier fold in on itself, just as his vision was covered in purple paint and smoke.

Chapter Text

Pidge swung her bayard, slicing back against the knife previously hurling towards her. She moved her attention back to the room, metres away was a smoke grenade soon to go off. Twisting she shifted her feet to run out of soon to be paint filled room.

Pidge ducked around the doorway, hearing multiple shots run out. The last one releasing in tandem with the smoke grenade. It created a chain reaction, something spilled, something else fell and a grotesque smell emerged from the room. So pungent even her helmet couldn't block it out. One second later, a howling scream followed. Croaky as it was strong, it reached her ears applying pressure against her ear drum. Making her eyes swell up with tears not needed. Stringing out her nerves like laundry, it left everything in her body feeling far too heavy.

Pidge moved back away from the wall, looking in towards the smoke pocket within. Her imagination was running rampant with all of the possible explanations of what had just occurred.

"Hunk!" Pidge shouted. Her voice had lost all confidence, she was desperate. Shaking she entered the smoke— bayard ready — she needed to get to Hunk if he was hurt.

"I'm- I'm alright." Hunk responded, he was quiet, too quiet to hear audibly in the room. So their helmets did the duty of projecting his voice.

Pidge's brain was on hyperdrive, if Hunk wasn't hurt it must've been the soldier. But the galra never screamed like that, they accepted death as easily as life. So for one to cry out in such pain, was something they had never experience before.

"Pidge my vision is blocked," Hunk was actively trying his best to wipe away the purple paint. His voice was panic stricken "Can you access the control panel?"

"Yes. Yep will do." She was just as shaken.

She flicked on the map, she could use it to navigate through the smoke. Pidge made the conscious effort to stay quiet, trying to listen to where the soldier was. Each step she treaded was another she was closer to the panel. She just needed to keep moving.

A sudden force pushed her over, landing her straight on the floor. It had just barely brushed her shoulder but she could see residue of purple and red liquid where they touched. That wasn't Hunk.

"Hunk watch out!"

She could hear a commotion, but it didn't last long. The soldier must have made it through. A problem for another time she thought.

Right now, Lance was hurt and unconscious, the rebels lives were in the balance and the soldier had just yelped fear into her brain. It was beginning to stutter more than she would like to admit. She needed to get to the panel and switch off the self-destruct command. On the off chance she couldn't though—

"Coran, Princess. The sentries are rigged to blow." She managed to smooth her tone as the sentence continued. "Can you let the rebels know to stay clear?"

"Sure thing number 4." Coran responded. "See I have you ranked from height-"

Coran's seemingly off topic nickname helped. Despite the nuisance it could've been. Pidge appreciated his attempt to level her head. He understood that Pidge tried her best in high risk situations, but did better when behind a desk, rather than in the field. She swore that she had gotten better over the few months they had, but still knew she wasn't at the level Keith and the others were at.

Pidge rushed over to the control panel. Now that the soldier was gone, all she had to worry about was this. One less thing to deal with was good. It was good, it was fine, everything was fine. She tried to steady her breathing, if she had more time maybe she would continue, but she had to focus.

She reached at her back, twisting around the broken sentry arm she brought with her. Placing it where the soldier had it's right arm moments ago. Pidge had recommissioned it to integrate her technology with the galras. Though it was still stunted, and provided minimal access, it was better than nothing.

She waited for the tiny version of herself to pop up on screen, signalling she had access. Once it did, the galran language— at least the bits she had translations for— converted to english.

The program she built was designed to download anything and everything she had access to. Mainly sentry logs, which would provide information on the structures comings and goings. Depending on where the sentries were stationed, and what their orders were at the time. This secondary process gave her time to manually filter through the folders, searching, searching, searching—

"Got it." She announced.

Switching off the protocol. The screens flickered back to their normal purple, timer disappearing as well. While the galran purple wasn't comforting at all — it was still miles ahead of the red ticking down to the rebels doom.

She felt a hand land on her shoulder.

"Good job Pidge." Hunk assured.

He was still wiping away the remnants of purple paint, but she could see his face was contorting in a way that was supposed to be a smile. It fell flat though, his usual cheeriness was gone.

They did win today. They did. But it just didn't feel quite like it.

Chapter Text

Keith kept the pressure up on the wound. It continued to ooze blood out— the vessel was strong but Keith needed to be stronger. He placed one hand on the wound, and wrapped another layer of the bandage around it. More pressure and more material to absorb the blood. That's what Lance needed. His heart was pounding in his ears. He pressed down harder, just as a scream let out.

It was so human sounding— it had to be Lance— but when Keith looked up to Lance's face. Searching for any contortions of pain and voice escaping, he found none. Lance was still unconscious. He was practically frozen, nothing had changed except for a small trail of blood seeping out from his hairline. How could Keith stop that? Hopefully when they got back to the castle.

Keith looked up, as the galra soldier emerged from the smoke, blood and purple paint swishing behind it, a gnarly injury along its torso. What could only be it's rib cage— or an alien equivalent— beginning to show. He couldn't find it in himself to give chase, to leave Lance when he was so vulnerable. Hunk or Pidge could do it. So he switched his attention back. Checking Lance's face once again, he could see the small remnants of what would be a bruise in a couple of hours. Lance was so peaceful for what the situation was. He was unaware of the lethality of his wound. The blood constantly pulsing out despite Keith's efforts.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder. His whole body jumped, heart flipping up into his throat.

"I've got him." Hunk said softly.

Slowly Hunk moved into Keith's view, he was covered in purple paint, with only small indication of the yellow of his armour underneath. No blood or anything, he didn't seem to be hurt. That was good Keith thought. Though he still carried a look of utter sadness and disbelief on his face. Keith thought that probably matched his own expression.

Hunk slowly place his hand under Lance's neck, then the other under his knees. Lifting evenly, not to place anymore strain on Lance's body. He moved from his knees to his feet. Not even so much as wavering under the increased weight. Keith followed him up, keeping the pressure up on the wound. Keith hoped it was a losing battle for the blood, he was going to stop it and get Lance healed.

He could hold any of them easily. Keith knew that, but still felt bad that he couldn't do more for Lance.

"He'll be okay." Pidge commented.

She was shifting around unsurely. The pad covering her face, so Keith didn't bother to look directly at her. Keeping his attention on Lance. The battle was over, the salvation of the healing pods was not far away. So Keith tried to hold onto that. The hope it gave him that things would be alright. They still had one enemy on the battle field, so his nerves were still on edge, but seeing the blood curdling injury it carried, Keith hoped it would just flee. That Lance would stay the primary focus of the rest of the mission.

"Princess?" He wanted to ask where the castle was, where they needed to take Lance to, how to get there, how to help Lance, but a simple word was all he could manage.

"We have landed just by the rebels. Coran's bringing down a stretcher for Lance." Allura understood Keith's message anyway. She had put on a diplomatic tone, shrouding her true emotional state under the guise of politics.

The battle was won. They successfully saved everyone and the sentries were gone. No rebels were harmed. But Lance was, he was- he was going to be fine.

Keith pressed any other thought out of his mind. They twisted down the halls, dropping down staircases, skirting around corners, then finally reached Coran. Hunk never gave out under the weight, keeping Lance level and steady at all times. Keith could see a look a desperation on Hunk's face. He couldn’t lose Lance, none of them could.

Coran seemed to miss the signals of discomfort shared between them, smiling gently even despite Lance's state. Maybe he just wanted to make them all feel better. After all, the healing pods could undo any damage, Keith needed to keep reminding himself that each time his heart jumped into his throat.

Coran buffed out the stretcher, helping Hunk to lower Lance down gently. Keith kept his hands on Lance's shoulders. Unmoving even when they began their run towards one of the castle's shuttles.

*****

Lance was in the pod. They were back in the castle safe and sound. Mission success, I guess.

Normally by now, Lance was ranting about how cool they all were, how they saved yet another planet, with yet another million or so inhabitants released from the Galra's rule. He never really got the stats right, but it was more his overemphasised positivity that struck everyone.

Instead, he was placed in hibernation— healing his shoulder— his usual happiness trapped in there with him.

Keith was stuck leaning against a nearby pod, staring at Lance as if that would speed up the process. It was a big change from the medical services of earth. People didn't just heal from a shot like that easily, they spent months on months recovering, multiple surgeries, even then to be heavily scarred, with years of physical therapy after.

The castle condensed that whole process into a matter of days. Doing it all while the patient was unconscious and dreaming.

Well maybe dreaming. Lance would have a smug smirk across his face every hour or so. Leading Keith to assume he was dreaming of his self-proclaimed heroics that they would all hear about the moment he exited the chamber.

Hunk murmured, he was asleep on the staircase. Mouth ajar and arms plastered over his eyes. He had a blanket draped over him and his loungewear. He still had his apron on underneath. Rushing from cooking for everyone to coming back to Lance didn't leave much time for anything else. Much like everyone, they were all here at some point and leaving at another. Hunk to cook food, Keith to train and Pidge to work on her projects.

Allura and Coran floated around too, Coran mainly checked the integrity of the healing pods systems and Lance's levels. He made sure to mention to anyone in the room that they were of a good level, giving an estimation on how much longer. Allura visited often and would usher them all to their rooms when they refused to leave. Emphasising the importance of a healthy sleep schedule for the universe's saviours. That was hard to argue with, especially when Keith was a tired as he was.

Even so, it was hard to sleep knowing one of them was injured, and could wake up at any moment alone and freightened. Keith had enough of that after his father passed away. He was a hero, that was for sure. Always going back into the fires to save everyone, but he had unintentionally left Keith all alone.

Keith didn't despise him, he loved him. Truly he did. But when Shiro also left for the Kerberos mission, and- well. It was hard not to feel like Keith somehow had a part to play in it all.

He knew he pushed others aside, preferred to be alone more often than not. But that didn't mean always, only just most of the time. He liked the illusion of choice it seemed.

Keith kept considering the issues of his earth life, when Lance's pod opened. Air gushing out, breathing out a warm gust of air to the otherwise neutral temperature of the castle.

Hunk immediately woke up — flinging his blanket out towards Keith. Keith was glaring at Lance, his thoughts were elsewhere as he realised what was happening one second too late. The blanket ending up covering him from head to toe. When he removed it, he could see Lance drowsily standing against Hunk. His knees were unconventionally bent forwards and his balance suffered soarly. Hunk helped prop him back to standing, or as well as Lance could stand. The effects of the pods left anyone who entered feeling incredibly sleepy, it was practically like anaesthesia that desperately needed to be slept off.

"Hey… guys." Lance spoke, confidence radiating from him, despite his broken sentence.

Lance waved his hand around — using the shoulder recently healed. It was like he was working out what was happening, if not a little slowed by his current state. Keith could see the gears in his head slowly ticking into place. Lance wiggled his hand once more, then landing a suspicious finger pointed right at Keith.

"What are you doing here?" Lance questioned.

"Checking you're alright." Keith replied with ease. "Seems Hunk has it covered. I'll see you later when you're more up and about."

Hunk began to open his mouth to dispute Keith leaving, another set of hands might've helped to get Lance to his room. But Keith assumed that the pod opening would have alerted the others, so they could help if he really needed. Besides, Keith needed sleep almost as much as Lance did. He desperately needed more than the few hours he had gotten over the last couple of days. Now that it felt like his heart was no longer tongue tied, that would be much easier.

Chapter Text

Lance had fully recovered by now, radiating confidence in his abilities to fly as soon as he left the pod. Even despite Hunk having to practically carry him back to his room.

The last mission was a success, but after what Hunk did, the harm he caused even if he didn't mean to. He still did it and he needed to own his actions. He knew that this was war, that the galra were violent. Afterall they had victory or death. He just didn't know what to do with himself now. He was a part of this cycle, it felt like it infected him. His very fibre and being would be forever altered.

He had been so busy, cooking for everyone, working on projects with Pidge and most of all sitting with Lance while he was in the pod. It felt like he put everything inside on hold, his emotions were bottled up and sent out to sea. Never going to return to him, leaving him hollow and unfeeling.

Previously, all of their missions were just sentry occupied. Others had killed, the rebels they fought alongside, probably at least one of the other paladins. And he didn't respect them less because they did. So why did his heart feel torn in two when he thought about his own actions? Why didn't he react better, why was he so sensitive? This soldier likely would have killed them in a heartbeat. Hell, it was probably trying to. It was just, hard, everything about this was.

So he just decided to push everything back down. He would deal with it eventually, when they had more time for moral quandaries and ethical dilemmas. He needed to focus on the good they had done, by destroying the sentries and overrunning the only galra installation on Ogore. It was now a liberated planet. Free because of them, and the planet's rebels efforts. It felt nice to have helped so many people.

Hunk tried to avoid the thought that they could be doing more. Because in reality, they couldn't. Not without a fully formed Voltron. The universe's greatest weapon, that they only had four parts of. The safety he felt in yellow was unmatched. He often thought about how it would feel to have all four— sorry, all five— forming a giant man. Guy? Guess the details of it didn’t matter too much.

Allura and Coran loved to tell stories about what they could do once they found the last paladin. Often lasting a big amount of their dinner talks. This meal was no different and Hunk was going to soak up every minute of it. He knew he was quiet, juxtaposing the normalcy of his bubbly mess of words and interruptions to let the others know what exactly they were eating. But he just wanted to let his emotions simmer and settle before he opened his mouth. For now, he desperately wanted food to warm up the cold feeling in his stomach.

"You'll be able to slice through an entire galra warship like nothing." Coran mused, acting out the movements it would take to do such a feat. He almost leaped onto the table, but decided that the floor was enough of a substitute.

"That's so cool!" Lance admitted. "I'll be the head right?"

"No Lance, you're a leg." Keith drawled.

They'd had this fight time and time again. Going through the motions as easy as breathing. The missing paladin was the black head of voltron, forming both that and the body the rest of them would attach to. Yet Lance seemed to just enjoy poking and prodding at Keith's buttons.

Hunk found it somewhat comforting, that Lance was able to keep up his humour despite where they were. Light years away from their families, friends or just their planet in general. Lance staying the same helped Hunk's homesickness. It was practically the one stable thing he had out here. The one constant he had from earth.

Back home, his family was large. He was almost always surrounded by other people, conversations flowing and sounding out over each other. It was the complete opposite to the castle. Everyone here still had that new awkwardness of interaction. Always careful what they said to each other, particularly with the two Alteans. As interacting with them felt like a cautious balance of navigating alien social norms and his usual strategies of earth conversations. Unfortunately, they did not always corelate. Not knowing the cultural difference of what is acceptable and what is not, did not help. But Hunk always tried his best and that's all anyone could really ask.

"On the topic of warships" Allura sounded out. Most dinners they tried to avoid talking about missions, but sometimes it seeped into them anyways. Such is the life of a paladin. "There is a heavily damaged warship set to travel over Ogore for repairs. It won't land there of course, but does not appear to have updated it's path since Ogore's recent revolution."

She waited a little, while they all considered what she was saying. Hunk moved his fork around his plate, he had finished his food, but still felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. He was hollow inside and out, his brain was backpedalling trying to keep up with the conversation as well as his inner thoughts. He looked up at Coran, his smile was bright. Coran looked at him sympathetically — read him like a book — but didn't press. Didn't call Hunk out for his lack of conversation. Didn't force him to tell everyone the woes of his heart. Just gave him a wink, and continued the motions of the dinner.

"Seems like a good test run for attacking one" Coran added. He gave Hunk another glance, checking over him as Hunk gave a small nod back. Hunk could tell Coran's focus was split. Between making sure Hunk was alright, and the purely overjoyed thought that his contribution to the conversation, could lead the paladins to take out their first proper battle cruiser.

Hunk knew that technically, they had already broken into a cruiser to steal back the red lion. But that went over poorly, as all involved were heavily injured. Only upside was that Keith's flying ultimately led them to their escape. Ever since, Allura warned them to be wary of battlecruisers.

Coran passed another look, it was a pressing and consistent gaze that had not strayed far from Hunk since the beginning of the dinner. It was never threatening, never meaning to cause harm, even with the cultural difference. It felt as though Coran could understand everything from just a glance, after all he had lived this war before. Hunk was just in the contemporary version of it.

"As long as we can still access the information on board." Pidge pressed.

She was always interested in collecting more, Hunk assumed it was a strategy of some sort. Learn the Galra's battle tactics and anything else of interest. But the desperate looks she always hid each time she mentioned it, suggested otherwise. Hunk wanted to be the guy to coax it out of her, maybe coax was a bad term. He wanted to comfort her and be there for her. To listen to her troubles and help wash them away. It was always easier with someone else there to listen. Coran's overbearing presence solidified that for him. His emotional load was lifted— even if only slightly — from such a simple gesture. It felt nice to be looked after, to have someone care so much, even though they had only known each other for a couple of months. Hunk wanted to do the same for others. He wanted to do the same for Pidge.

Still, he understood the need to just be alone, to just have a task that was his alone. It was nice to have time to himself, so in that regard, he understood her distance. To just be able to sit, without anyone or anything else interrupting. Times like that were far and few between since they left earth. Suddenly, there was something that needed to be done at all times. It was hard, but he knew he needed to do everything he could. For the universe's sake, Hunk would put his needs behind him. Push his limits to save everyone.

*****

The next day they all woke up bright and early. Pidge had looked like she got little sleep, especially when she stood directly next to Lance. He always had a glow to him the first couple hours of the day. The result of proper beauty sleep he called it. She rubbed at her eyes, Hunk could see the redness grow more present as she pushed hard against the eye sockets. They were all walking to the bridge, all in paladin armour. He knew she was an introvert, a public questioning with multiple people wasn't the best approach for her. He would ask later.

The doors swung open, Allura and Coran were already speedily working in their respective areas. Allura guiding the castle to a landing and Coran checking the systems. Though, both titled their heads to great the rest of them. The paladins all shifted around to their chairs. Hunk stretched his arms, his shoulders were so tight. He hoped it was because of the exercise they were doing and not his anxiety manifesting physically.

"Make sure to look out for each other out there. Focus on the weapons and THEN you can enter, not the other way round. The castle can provide cover, but not for lions that are floating aimlessly while being shot at." Coran pleaded, he pointed at each of them, one brow raised behind each look.

Keith and Lance both rolled their eyes, amused that Coran thought that little of them, that they would rush straight into the Galra cruiser without so much as a second thought. Well, maybe he wasn't wrong, to get red they had done that. But that was a really pressing matter, this battle ship wasn't.

A practice round Hunk reminded himself. Pretending that each mission wasn't the end all be all helped a little. Though he knew deep down they each were. If one of them was to get hurt or worse. It was over. Compartmentalise Hunk. Please. Lance had taught him that strategy and it seemed to work well for him. Hunk hoped it would do the same for him. So he slowed his breathing, shifting his focus to something else.

Coran finished his rant, and Allura held out her hands on the two control panels of the castle.

"Good luck paladins." She pressed.

Coran parroted it as well. Hunk gave a nod, as did the rest of them. Entering down towards their lions, Hunk was better at navigating it now. After the first fail, he came up with ways to make sure he made it there on time. Making sure he held tightly onto the zipline, timing the slide right and the small bike. Once he reached the lion, he was greeted with a welcoming hum. Hunk presumed it was some sort of greeting— though never before had a machine greeted him— and he smiled happily back.

Yellow was safe, well armoured, a symbol of peace, for the galaxy and for Hunk.

****

They started out flying in formation. Breaking off Hunk flew towards the ion cannon. It flickered, moving to aim in on Hunk's position. Hunk could see the mechanisms struggling to light up the shield, which defiantly shut down shortly after launch. Somehow it still managed a single measly blast, however that shot rung far out into space. Rippling into disintegration as it travelled nowhere and to no one.

Hunk flew up above the canon, laying the lions claws in. He held the controls tight, pushing them forward to activate the engines. He pushed until he heard a loud crack, continuing until the entire ion canon was completely dislodged from the cruiser.

The other paladins flew over him, Keith ducking down under the cruiser to shot at it from below. Lance dodging and weaving in between the few shots it managed. Pidge was shooting back from a far, but slowly leaning more into the battle. Behind them all, the castle of lions activated their particle barrier, keeping position solid in space. Allura and Coran must have decided to hang back in case of emergency, and let the paladins fight this battle unless needed.

The paladins had the upper hand, they were winning, by a mile as well. It felt good, even if the opponent was extremely handicapped.

"Okay we got everything, ready to go?" Pidge asked.

The plan was for Hunk to hang back in his lion, whilst everyone else entered. If an extraction was needed. Yellow could penetrate the battle ships defences and get them out easily. Even if that plan involved Hunk biting down on their exact location, whilst the rest would have to narrowly avoid being crushed themselves. It would have to do.

"Yuup" Lance chirped in confirmation.

Keith didn't say anything, but his readiness was implied.

They each returned their lions to the castle, then Hunk picked them up one by one in yellow's jaw. Flying slowly, he drove straight towards the broken ion cannon, as it provided an easy entrance for them. He opened the mouth, watching the tiny versions of his friends fly closer and closer to the cruiser until they all but disappeared inside.

Hunk's job was simple, defend against any incoming galra fighters — though only a couple should be present. The previous battle that left this battlecruiser out of commission had used most of them up. The few remaining as damaged as the cruiser itself.

Though as Hunk suspected, that wouldn't stop them from launching. And correct he was, as three fighters released out of a hatch. All in formation two in front and one behind. Their engines were rattling, chugging along the fighters slowly. They were all in shambles, it would barely take a shot to destroy them. If Hunk even needed to do that, they were releasing debris just as fast as they were flying. He could easily handle these three himself.

They shifted to circling up, beginning their descent towards him. He banked left out of their shots, jaw opened and slamming shut on the first one. He swung the lion around, throwing the fighter out of his mouth. Directly into the second. Two birds with one stone.

The final ship dodged down out of the way. Flying much faster than the other two, maybe it was more operational than the last two Hunk thought. It flew underneath the cruiser, appearing on the opposite side, dodging and weaving around Hunk's shots. It boosted around, hiding behind the debris of the cruiser. Hunk moved to get around it, to get a clear shot, but the fighter kept it's position out of Hunk's view.

So, Hunk shot directly at the debris, yellow light incarcerating it before dissipating into the dark space ocean. But yet, it remained completely intact, okay Hunk needed a new plan. He decided upon ramming into it. Yeah that should work. Hunk really needed someone here to tell him what to do, to tell him the best course of action even if it was just one fighter. He really needed help, but everyone was gone. This was one fighter, a heavily damaged one at that. So why was his heart pounding?

He felt a light purr, like a warm hug covering him whole. The worries begun slipping away, dancing onto the floor, sweeping far away from him. It was like a weight from his shoulders was lifted. He could feel yellow in his brain, trying to get the message across that he was okay. Because, truly he was, he knew it deep down. He was safe, he just was running off adrenaline, and that made his body feel awkward.

He scanned for the fighter, it was still there. Unmoving. A little unnerving, but Hunk had just been blasted with an overwhelming sense of support. He could do this, he could. He started his decent towards the debris. He could slam into it and yellow wouldn't even feel a tickle. He pushed the controls forwards, speeding right up to it, sending it flying backwards. Yellow's head twisted, allowing Hunk to watch the fighter launch upwards to dodge. It was in open space now. Exactly, what Hunk needed.

Hunk shifted the controls, aiming a shot directly at it. The fighter flew up above the shot, so he fired another, it twisted around that, so he fired again. Each time it managed to dodge it, even in open space, Hunk couldn't predict the movements enough to succeed. He realised the fighter was beginning to fly straight at him. Hunk wondered what the galra's plan was. He could survive the fighter crashing into him, hell, he and yellow probably wanted it to try. Then he could switch his focus back to keeping Lance, Pidge and Keith within his reach.

A piece of debris was dislodged from the fighter, flying towards Hunk at incredibly fast speeds. The ship following suit behind, twisted as if the loss of that debris was as bad as losing its pilot. Fully losing control of itself in the open space air. Hunk opened the jaw, and smashed down. Twisting once again to dislodge it, but it never gave. Oh crap. Hunk maybe got a bit overzealous with the jaw usage.

He started to press on the screens in front of him— checking the systems statistics— making sure it wasn't shut down. Seemed like the fighter was lodged too far in. He switched to the camera of the jaw, checking over it manually before heading down wouldn't hurt. He could see the fighter was lodged deeply the mouth, it was bent out of shape, galra tech scattered across the floor and sticking to the teeth of the lion. Shoot, this would be hard to deal with if he couldn't get it out soon.

"The jaw of my lion is stuck. I need to go dislodge the galra fighter in it." Hunk mentioned.

The team should know what his current status was. He heard both a giggle from Lance and a sigh from Keith as reaction. Hunk begun to move off his chair, but there was a distinctive mechanical hum on the other side of the cockpit door.

Someone was in there with him.

Hunk braced—pulling out his bayard— ready for an attack. But it never came, just a burning smell. He saw the bottom edge of the door light up purple. Possibly the intruder had no clue how to open it, or yellow had shut Hunk in to keep him safe. The light continued upwards, on the edges of the door. It was smouldering— no wait— whoever it was, was welding the door shut. They were trying to lock Hunk in.

He immediately pressed the button on the lions controls to open the door. But whoever it was, managed to grab onto the door and hold it shut. Fingers barely peeking through, half of the door was welded in place, failing to open further. It was stuck in place just as Hunk was.

Hunk aimed a shot, what he could do was get the hand to release. Granting him the option to escape. So he did just that, fired a shot directly at it. The yellow shot encased the hand, but the door didn't budge, the hand however did disappear. Okay, Hunk needed to figure out how to open it. The bottom of the doorway was lighting up purple. Continuing to weld him inside. Whoever was doing this successfully distracted Hunk into thinking the hand was what he needed to focus on.

Shifting his weight on his feet, Hunk considered his options. He needed help but the team, where was the team?

"We're done." Pidge announced. "Another cruiser full of sentries, maybe they had thought to abandon ship for something more defendable."

"Great, great, um." Hunk interrupted. He needed help and he needed it now. "I have an intruder in the yellow lion."

It was then that he realised it wasn’t a piece of ship debris flying at him, it must have actually been the pilot. They aimed for this, knew he what he would do and took advantage of it. Hunk felt stupid, but didn't let that cloud his judgement. He needed the rest of his team to get to his lion stat. So that they could pincer the intruder from both sides— well mainly their side, less so Hunk's, given his current predicament.

Chapter Text

Lance knew better than to delay their escape. The fear in Hunk's voice may not have been obvious to everyone. But he knew him well enough to know his tells, and repeating words unsurely was definitely at the top of that list.

Just moments ago, Pidge had announced the finality of their mission from the control room and none of them expected to be summoned immediately outside. So to say the least, the adrenaline rush was kicking Lance's butt right now. Pidge had her pad pulled up, shouting directions as they skidded around a corner. Lance could just barely see Hunk's position over her shoulder, he wasn't too far off where they entered. Good. That was good wasn't it?

"We're coming Hunk." Lance announced.

His voice was strong, stronger than he thought it would be. Given how his heart practically jumped three beats at Hunk's predicament. Lance had no clue how they were planning on reaching where Hunk was. He just assumed it would involve their jetpacks, and when they zoomed through to the exit of open space, it seemed like that was the case.

Keith parkoured to the best of his ability in the low gravity, aiming to launch himself far enough to latch onto yellow, either enter from the jaw— if they could fit —or the underside hatch of the belly. Lance was quick to follow behind him, matching his movements, despite being one step behind him. Pidge had another plan, she threw her bayard, catching onto a broken pillar sticking out. Taking a few steps back, releasing the line, and flinging herself forward. All three were eventually travelling at a similar speed towards Hunk. They needed to get there fast, if Hunk was locked in the cockpit, it was only simple to assume the culprit needed him there for a reason.

"Hunk open the hatch!" Keith called.

They continued to swim through the dark space between, as yellow's rumbling underbelly hatch opened. The interior lights, flickered, then finally fell off. The inside was just as dark as the cold space they were travelling through. Not good.

"My screens are out, I think the lions been hacked." Hunk replied.

Well that was unsettling. No one had boarded the lions except themselves, Allura and Coran. But the first enemy who did so, knew exactly how to hook up and hack it? That's news Lance would rather not hear.

They all begun bracing themselves. Lifting up their arms to aim the tiny wire in their armours, attaching it to the innards of the yellow lion— speeding up their approach tenfold.

Lance readied his bayard, as did Keith and Pidge. They were ready to fight Hunk out of here, even if he was behind a door impossible to open. Flying in, Lance released the wire, and aimed his bayard into the room. He landed silently on the floor, slowly skidding to a halt against the back wall.

He was scanning every which way for the intruder until he spotted a dark figure cowered in the corner. Pidge and Keith must have done the same, tensing up at the sight. It was the black soldier from their previous mission. It's armour was well worn, some parts swapped out for what looked like Ogore rebel uniforms. Multiple red stained purple bandages wrapping around it's torso. After the previous mission, Hunk explained what Lance missed. Going over every single finite detail, but the one that stuck out was the blast that had hit the soldier. Hunk had softened his voice, growing quiet as he explained it in full gory detail. He had fiddled with his hands, avoiding eye contact with Lance the entire time. Even despite the immense information Hunk gave, Lance slightly questioned whether Hunk had it in him to do that, but seeing the evidence washed any semblance doubt away.

The soldier was shakily hunched over in the corner, it seemed sickly injured. Both from the dirtied bandages and the way it was swaying left to right. The galra almost looked as if it would collapse if you so much as pressed a finger to it. The soldier's right hand landed on the floor, shifting around unsteadily it grasped it's left hand against the bandages. The artificial gravity was still active, but beginning to fail. The sudden changes in the environment almost seemed too much for the soldier.

Good thing Lance could adapt to the changes. Guess that's another point for Lance. He aimed in, then spotted a cord originated from the soldier's arm connecting to the wall of the lion. Lance thought it must be some sort of prosthetic. Zeroing in, he locked his sight on the small cord, shooting as soon as it landed in the crosshair. The soldier whipped it's head around, pulling back the remains of the cord. A small blue spark danced over the arm, but disappeared along with the cord into the innards of the forearm.

The prosthetic arm hummed as it shifted to a purple glow, lighting the palm in the iconic galra colour. It had stray lines extending up just past the elbow, a rather large prosthetic he thought. The soldier stood up, ready for battle, or more so as ready as it could be. It's balance was still unstable, using it's left hand used to balance against the wall. Lance could see it heaving with each breathe.

It was unsettling, Lance's adrenaline was pumping his head full of blood and aching beats that drifted along his ear drums. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't. He lifted his bayard, tightening his grip and shifting his feet. He felt the gravity finally give, slowly lifting him up towards the ceiling, he opted to get his bearings rather than risk missing close quarters shot. He wasn't going to risk it with Pidge and Keith trapped in a dark environment.

Keith seemed to notice Lance's disengagement, and sprung forwards. Bayard ready in front of him, an attack forming as he lifted it. The soldier lifted it's right arm to block, which Keith used as an opportunity to drive into it as much as he could muster. The sword grated against the arm as Keith continued to push. The prosthetic hand wilted, purple glow lowering as the fingers begun twitching and glitching in every direction. Lance could see even from here, Keith had severely damaged it, cutting through a large section of the technology. Innards now visible, a mixture of red and purple liquids etched out into space, the galra's shoulder was tensed, lowering against the effort to fight back.

Something seemed to switch in it's brain, as it stopped fighting and used Keith's strength against him. The arm jolted down, taking Keith for the ride. The soldier riled back it's left arm, punting Keith right in the face and twisting the prosthetic back away. Keith deactivated the bayard before it would be out of range, spawning it back in his hand to block any additional hits. But none came, instead the soldier activated small jet propulsions on it's legs.

Lance realised it was trying to flee. Flying straight towards the exit, it flew up to instinctively avoid getting too close to Lance and Pidge. That plan wouldn't work, Lance was long range, point Lance one might say. Aiming in once again, he shot where ever he could, but with each shot, he was pushed further and further back from the recoil. Despite the current state of the soldier's arm, it was still relying on it heavily, using it to block out hits from Lance. He could just barely see a small flinch in the soldier's body each time he hit. He almost swore it was bleeding just as he would. A sickly familiar red mixture of human essence, that must just be from the prosthetic. It had to be.

Lance looked around, still faltering his shots. Pidge was plugged into the wall, she must've hoped to reverse the hack and shut the door before any of them had the chance to escape. She was a minute too late before the soldier pressed up against the ceiling of the lion, then flew straight towards Lance. Knocking the both of them outside.

Lance went to swing his bayard at the soldier. It dodged, using the momentum to position Lance under it's feet. Launching itself forward and Lance back. Lance flipped around, the stars spun circles in his vision. Darting bright lights against the darkness of space, he instinctively tried to grab at anything he could, but was constantly met with a gushing sense of immaterial ocean. He breathed deeply, shifting around to use his jetpack to regain his balance. It puffed out multiple packets of fire, slowly shifting Lance's gear from an uncontrollable spin, to upright. He twisted around, the soldier was flying further and further away. It reached up with its left hand, pressing against the helmet. Lance didn't care who it contacted, only that it didn't get away for a third time.

He aimed his arm straight out, and fired the wire hidden within. Latching on the soldiers hand, the wire intertwinned with it's fingers, sparking as it hit against the helmet. Lance's stationary predicament ended up pulling the hand back towards him, jerking it back to the soldier's side. He was desperately trying to slow it's momentum, but instead got dragged along with it. He activated his jet pack again, if he could just reach the yellow lion, he could use it as an anchor.

"Can anyone pull us back?" Lance prodded.

Keith was exiting the lion, surely he understood what Lance meant. Lance whipped his head around, watching on as Keith's jetpack splayed a mixture of lava red behind him. He shot forwards, speedily swimming through the black liquid, but he never seemed to slow down. Instead all he did was propel himself forward, he was coming closer and closer to Lance. Eventually, Lance closed his eyes, this was an unavoidable crash, pouting he admitted defeat. Keith however seemed to aim for this, his arms were extended, pushing Lance forwards as gently as he could. Lance's wire began to let up on the soldier, it didn't look back, but began shaking it's hand in an attempt to remove it. Lance opened his eyes again, the soldier was practically a metre in front of him now. A single blink after, and they both crashed full force into it. Maybe this could work Lance thought. 

The sudden impact jolted the soldier off it's path. Twisting around it's legs around, in an attempt to kick Lance and Keith off. The first kick missed, but the second landed right in Lance's stomach, shooting him back out into space. He was left flipping around until a hand grasped at his. It pulled him back into the battle. He knew it was Keith's, but couldn't find it in himself to actually look at Keith.

He suddenly realised what was happening in his body, he was so unbelievably angry and scared. This entire time he had been running off a release of cortisol and adrenaline — still was — but now it was like he was shot right back to reality. This soldier had hurt him, twice and now had gone after Hunk. He wasn't going to just let that go, he needed to know he wouldn't be hurt again. That no one else would be hurt like that.

A loud sharp noise sounded out above them. This specific noise he recognised, it was made when a ship exited hyperdrive.

He looked up, above them was the fabled Galra Central Command. The one they were meant to avoid at all costs. The one that barely ever left it's post. The one, that was now directly above them.

Chapter Text

Hacking the lions was some feat, even one Pidge hadn't been able to complete yet. Somehow, someway, the soldier had so much more information about the lions and their systems than her. The fact that it hacked them so easily just provided more evidence. Not the time, she could ponder the implications of that later.

She needed to get yellow back up and running, and get Hunk unstuck. As funny as it was, it was equally terrifying to know how swiftly it was accomplished. The lion had been overrun by a stranger, not even a giant army placating and surrounding them with no escape. It was just one mere galra. A lone soldier with no help. It wasn't even Zarkon, or Haggar. Neither of which they had seen yet. But when a huge gushing flash sounded overhead, she knew only a few ships were capable of making such a grand entrance.

Pidge flicked through her pad, fingers sounding out each tap as she sporadically searched through the lions systems. She was plugged into the wall, holding on as she struggled against the gravity threatening to lift her further upwards. There was a tiny scorch mark on the outlet, leading sparks to fly out as the integrity of the technology continued to drop. Purple prosthetic blood was still present despite the owner's absence. It floated around her, small collections landing on her helmet, which she immediately swiped away. There was no time for distractions, especially something that would block her vision.

Pidge was going to manually try to disable the hack, whilst her program tried alternative avenues. Technically two people working together, as if it was Hunk or Coran helping her. Fortunately, the hack seemed unfinished — perhaps by Lance's unexpected shot at the cable — which gave her an edge. An incomplete program was much easier to overcome than a complete one. It would have holes in it, structures that would have been solidified if not for lack of time. And she was going to make the most of every advantage she got.

Her hands were steady, well as steady as they could be. She blocked out all exterior stimulus, limiting her attention to only what was in front of her. The program itself was a dense collection of galran scrambled messages, for some reason it was intrinsically linked to a prosthetic operating system. This hack was completed directly from a prosthetic, so it made sense for a little leakage of information. Especially since the hack was cut short by Lance. Pidge not the time, her analysis could come later, right now she needed to focus.

As she worked, her program was downloading the entire code, locking it into a safe guarded storage for later analysis. This was something Pidge was good at, and incredibly well prepared for. She breathed out a yawn, not because she was tired, but because she had a tendency to hold her breath under deep concentration.

Her program managed to find two holes, and she herself four. Using all possible, she sifted out the entire hack. The yellow lion slowly hummed on, thankfully it had never fully switched off. The hack had only managed to blocked some of it's functions, rather than a complete shutdown. Hacking a sentient being was some feat. Pidge was glad it was cut short, she didn't want to think about what could have happened if the hack was completed. She switched her focus, hypotheticals later, right now she needed to focus on the present battle.

Hunk would still probably be stuck in the cockpit— though there could be worse places. With the lion operational, he could pilot them back to safety. Well more so just back to the castle of lions, then to a hopeful safety after a wormhole.

"Paladins we need to get out of here." Allura sounded out quickly.

Pidge knew Allura's face would be distorted with fear. This was the one agreement they had all managed to come to. No one was to attack Zarkon before they found the final paladin. Even with voltron it would be a struggle to do anything, so without…

"Working on it." Keith and Lance both replied.

They must have still been with the soldier. Pidge saw out of the corner of her eye that they both left the hull of the lion, hoping to catch it. But none of them assumed it would lead to aggravating Zarkon. A simple soldier surely wasn't worth a trip to this far part of the galaxy. Maybe it was the cruiser they wanted? Making sure that team voltron didn't get this victory, possibly gaining access to their systems more thoroughly with a cruiser to tinker away at.

Pidge felt the lion shift— Hunk was on the move, hopefully to snag Keith and Lance. She linked her arm against a pillar in the wall, securing herself so that Hunk could fly them to safety. Without a working blast from the mouth of the lion, all they were left with was the castle's defences.

"Cut lose from it!" Hunk ordered.

Pidge opened a camera, the soldier had a line of wire cleanly wrapped around the broken battlecruiser. It was actively trying to fight off both Lance and Keith, all linked together with barrage of attacks. Keith had tried to land multiple on it's already heavily damaged torso. Pidge could just barely see bandages slowly unravelling, as was the defunct pieces of rebel uniform. The soldier seemed to have multiplicity of layers on, but not enough to stop the red blood seeping through into the darkness of space.

Keith and Lance weren't listening, being so close to getting the soldier seemed to blind them. But Zarkon was so close to getting all of them. The risk was not worth it.

"We have to leave now!" Pidge shouted.

That caught their attention. They both unlinked from the soldier, flying out towards open space where Hunk could better catch them. The soldier seemed to slunk back into the darkness, now that the paladins had separated from it, the galran practically disappeared into the mix of shadow. A glint of light shone as Pidge spotted the small jets on its legs activate, it was slow going, much slower than the yellow lion. She watched on the camera as the soldier slowly sunk into the innards of the cruiser, disappearing into a cascade of the depleting purple galran glow.

Hunk flew close by, slowing down ever slightly to allow Keith and Lance to rejoin the rest of them. Pidge heard the wires link to the roof of the lion's innards, then saw them tighten to pull the others in. Both slammed into the roof full force as Hunk closed the doors hanger doors under them. Now that the gravity was at full function, all three were left standing in silence.

Pidge begun glaring at them both, she was not willing to let them get away with that. No one else cared about their so called rivalry but them. Now that it put them all at risk, she really didn't like it. They both squirmed under her vision, knowing they should have done otherwise. Keith looked down at the ground, shuffling to lean against the wall. Lance held onto his left shoulder, brushing his hand against it as he sent Pidge a sad apologetic look. Oh. Pidge needed to look away.

So she opened her pad to get some sort of camera view to the outside. Zarkon's central command had deployed a few thousand fleets of battleships. All were heading towards the castle, a barrage of blasts and fighter jets flying faster and faster towards the only opposing ship. Strangely, it was yet to shoot at the yellow lion. Or anywhere near the damaged battleship where Keith and Lance were moments before. They were easy targets not taken by the galra. What was going on? Galra were not afraid of risks, not afraid to sacrifice each other for the overall victory. So why was now different?

She searched the camera again, moving it around to look above at Zarkon's central command. It was huge in comparison to the castle, a bastardly sight covering the darkness of space within a purple glare. It enveloped all the stars present, leaching its control over them as they all but disappeared. It was as if Zarkon was proclaiming his ownership over the galaxy, reducing voltron to a small revolution yet to be quash. A force that would take such little effort to destroy.

The yellow lion jolted, purple sparks flew around, electrifying all three paladins. Pidge held in a grimace, now was not the time to scream out in pain. It was time to get out alive.

Chapter Text

Keith felt his anger build up, sparking from his stomach and enveloping every organ above it. It leached across his skin, lighting up like a flame brewing. Burning across his heart, flowing through his veins straight to his head. It replaced any semblance of thought with conjured rageful ruminations.

This soldier had hurt Lance, twice, in the same spot like some kind of sadistic maniac. Now here it was again, trapping Hunk in the cockpit of his lion. Hacking it with ease and taking a direct hit from Keith. Everything about the situation made his blood boil.

If Keith hadn't failed to take it out. To trust his gut and stop it before it could hurt his friends. Maybe none of this never would have ever happened. Hunk had managed to severely injure it. Why couldn't he do that? What made Hunk brave enough to hurt it? What was the difference between him and Keith?

The situation didn't feel right straight away. He should have ended it before it had the chance to get worse. He knew the galra wouldn't stop because he asked. They had vrepit sa, so Keith had to adapt to that as well. It felt eerily natural for him to adopt some of the galra ways. They were too easy for him to become accustomed to. They were too instinctive. Too natural. The galra are an evil conquering race hellbent on destruction. He was nothing like them. Wasn't he?

Each hit against the soldier lifted nothing. It had strange inconsistent collection of armour and fabrics wrapped around it. Blood seeping between the layers, it drifted out into space and onto Keith's armoured hands. Back at the yellow lion, he had managed to deeply hurt it, fracturing the prosthetic arm to the point of uselessness. Even despite that, the galran still flailed the arm around to block the punches. The arm attempted to light up, but movement only caused more synthetic blood to free itself. The mechanical innards were visibly beating, clanking back and forth as if to try at movement, but was prevented by the half hazard attack Keith had managed earlier. It was hanging on by a small section of metal, Keith almost swore he could see pink fresh flesh peeking out in a section.

He continued the barrage of punches, he felt liquid forming at his fingertips. Cooling the warmth of his armour unnecessarily. The frigid temperatures of space combatted against the overwhelming heat he had within. Leaving him feeling a mixture of luke warm sickness and a frozen exterior. His fists were lifting only small sections of blood, he aimed for the bandages, watching as they dislodged themselves from the armour. He could see air pulsing out, the armour was beginning to give out. The soldier's poor attempt at repair would not survive.

His thoughts slammed at his head, what if this soldier hurt another one of them? What if Hunk was and he just put on a brave face? What if Pidge was? Was that why she stayed behind?

What if Lance was again?

Rearing his hand back again, Keith punted the wound. Causing the soldier to jolt and fumble around as it tried block any more attacks. Even so, Keith continued, his eyes were locked onto the galran, and only the galran. It was heaving with each breath, lungs quickly rising and falling in a sporadic distinction. Barely enough air entering before it was released once again. It almost, looked like a panic attack Keith had watched someone have on earth. A sick familiar feeling of home not needed. Keith didn't like the feeling, especially being in another galaxy to his home planet. He hated how his brain tried to conjure up feelings of familiarity to cave off the homesickness he felt. It was fake. It was fake. His brain was tricking him, it was a misattribution error. This soldier was galran, Keith was not.

As Keith's hand backed away, Lance's filled the space it left for an attack. The alternation between them never allowing the soldier opportunity to fight back. Each attack left the galran with less and less, it was noticeably slowing it's movements. Dredging it's head back, as a quivering breath left it's lungs. The bandages were leaching out into space, blocking Keith's vision, leading him to rip them out of the way. Throwing them aside, bergundy blood begun to cover his already red armour. His eyes shifted focus, red? Keith had seen plenty of galra bleed different colours, maybe this was a half breed. It didn't matter how much galra was in it. It was an enemy.

Keith knew his origins were shady and clouded in mystery. Never knowing his mother, combined with his father's silence over the issue. As well as his unexplained connection to searching for the blue lion on earth. He hoped it was because he was a paladin. His connection to alien machinery was because of that. The fact that the galran language made sense to him. That he could read it. That he could interact with it. The blade his mother gave him, with the unique purple galra colour. They were circumstantial. All of it. Everything was. He was sure of it. This was his responsibility to shoulder, no one else's. His origins didn't matter when the universe was at stake. When his friends' lives were always in the balance.

His brain felt empty yet on overdrive at the same time. His body was on auto-pilot, and that pilot desperately wanted rid of this solder. It needed it gone. Keith was under so much pressure, after all he was expected to save the universe. To stop the galra when all he wanted to be was a pilot. Everyone was relying on him to be a hero, but he was just a small town boy from earth. Left behind by his loved ones, whether it was their choice or not.

A sharp noise sounded above him. He assumed it was the castle, something unimportant right now. So he continued his attacks, but Lance begun to slow his. Keith jolted around, he couldn't stop, not now when he was so close. He heard a sound over his communicator, it must have been Allura's voice from the tone and pitch, but his brain didn't understand what she said.

Nonetheless, both him and Lance had the automatic response. "Working on it."

Keith barely registered his own voice speaking out without permission. His eyes were locked on to what was in front of him. This was the only thing that mattered right now. The only thing he needed to do. He had to right his wrong. He heard another voice over the communications, that didn't matter. He just had to do this. He needed to protect everyone.

"We have to leave now!" Pidge shouted.

The sudden yelp from Pidge brought Keith back, causing him to survey his surroundings. Looking around, the yellow lion was flying towards them, as a gangle of blasts let out at the castle of lions. Zarkon's central command was filtering ships out like a candy machine. Right above them all, was an overwhelming amount of enemies, all hell bent on the destruction of voltron and anyone who stands in revolution to the galra.

They needed to leave. Zarkon was already firing upon the castle and would be soon to fire upon them as well. That was something none of them were capable of defeating. Lions and the castle were powerful, but they barely managed to defeat the missions they went on now, so this was a whole entire step above. They needed to leave. Now.

They both pushed against the soldier, launching themselves out in to space so that Hunk could pick them up easier. The sudden motion sent the galran flying in towards the cruiser. Keith shifted his focus away from that, his actions had led to their escape being delayed. He needed to focus on what he could do to help now.

Boarding the lion, Keith shifted around under the sudden exposure to gravity. It caused him to launch back towards the ground, his slowly shook his balance straight again. Now that they were all inside, the hangar door slammed shut. Keith felt the lion begin to shoot forwards, manoeuvring hopefully towards the castle. Hunk's flying was sporadic, and half hazard, but worth it to reach safety. Keith would have flown much the same.

In the back of his head, Keith felt two glaring eyes, he focused on the ground, shifting his stance closer to the wall. He thought of his ill willed actions. The other paladins were put at risk because of him once again. Yet again he had made the wrong decision, potentially leading to more injuries, to more hurt, to more harm. Then the yellow lion was hit. Jolting them around from the sheer force, an electric shock spiralling through all of their bodies. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Chapter Text

Hunk flew straight for the castle, they needed to keep the particle barrier up at the front, or risk destruction under the galra fleet's fire. He swerved underneath, he needed to reach the yellow hangar's entrance. He flew down, just as yellow's head passed underneath, a stray galran shot bounced off the barrier and straight into yellow's torso. Hunk braced, knowing the impact was something he couldn't dodge. His jaw set as the lion shook underneath the laser.

He expected screams, or at least some surprise from the others. But nothing came. The silence was deafening despite no sound being present. Hunk felt his heart fall, plummeting into a collision with his stomach. It felt like a mass of butterflies were released on impact. Yellow had more defensive capabilities than the rest. It could take far more hits than the other lions. But did that include the torso they resided in? It had to. It had to.

"Guys are you there?" Hunk distressed. His jaw was shaking, causing his teeth to clatter against every word.

"Bright and dandy after that one." Lance retorted.

A giant sigh left his mouth, fogging up his helmet. It blasted him with heat against his cold skin. He felt dizzy, but they were okay. Well okay for now, he still needed to get them inside the castle. He launched further past the barrier, skidding right into the yellow hangar. He snatched the lion's claws down to slow their entrance. It was a heavily jolted landing, but they needed to leave now, so be it with a little more bruises. Survival trumped all other concerns.

"We're in!" He shouted.

"Good." Allura sounded back.

The castle shifted into a downwards spiral, nose diving as to avoid the galran forces. Allura went completely silent as was putting all of her effort into piloting them to safety. The wormhole appeared just as quickly as they disappeared into it.

******

Hunk was trapped in the cockpit for a little over an hour. Set to stew on his failure, as he was barely any help aside from pressing buttons on the lion to try the jaw. He felt like an idiot. If he hadn't tried to use the jaw on the fighter, the pilot wouldn’t have gotten in. The team would have been able to rely on him for their escape, but instead Hunk made it the opposite. He needed their help when his only duty was to them.

An overwhelming sense of dread overtook him. The team had told Hunk it was the soldier from before, plus he saw it himself when flying to pick up Lance and Keith. Did it want revenge? Did it target Hunk specifically for that? It was so badly injured because of what he did. It was a reflection upon his actions, and his alone. The mission and his friend's lives were put at stake. All because of him.

Hunk didn't know how long the soldier would have survived if at all. He could still vividly remember the rotten burnt concoction of flesh and the equally abhorrent visuals accompanying. They had never left his senses ever since. Did the soldier feel the same? Hunk could escape it, even slightly. In his dreams he could think of something else, but this soldier was physically stuck with that lethal injury. The soldier was inescapably stricken with a constant reminder of what Hunk did. Somehow, it had survived the impossible and was coming for him. The worst part was, he couldn't decide if he deserved that or not. It was awful what he did, but he did it out of survival.

This soldier was one violent image he couldn’t remove. It had killed 4 beings in front of them, three galrans to trick them into thinking it was a rebel, and the king. It went for a fifth in Lance, but failed, because it was alone and Lance wasn't. Numbers were an advantage they had on their side. This soldier had no one, even if it was in the universe's largest empire to date. It seemed to always operate alone. But even with those minute and meaningless details, Hunk's retaliation was just as violent. The bile of blood dripping from the soldiers torso, flesh cauterising immediately and the frightening wail.

He alone, did all of that.

Guilt was piling in his gut. But he couldn't distinguish whether it was because a war forced him to be violent, to fight back just the same as the opposition did. Or if it was because he caused such pain to a particular being — caught in the same battle as him. A being who was left with no choice but to resort to the same violence. He pushed aside those thoughts. Morals and ethics didn't matter to the galra. It mattered to Hunk, but that couldn't free a planet, it couldn't stop the galra empire. Or else this would have ended them deca-phoebs ago. Long before he had to get involved. Long before he had to get as violent as he did. As they all did. As anyone did, he corrected himself.

"Hunk can you try the jaw again?" Pidge asked.

She had engineered a large robot arm to pull the fighter out. Rather quickly assembling it he admitted. Maybe that was the project she spent ages on. When either of them spent time in the green lions workshop, it had always been together. So for Hunk to miss such a large project was weird, it could almost be classified as negligence on his part. Actually, maybe it was what she worked on when he left. Hunk always left before she did, saying their respective goodnights as Pidge insisted on working just a little longer. He always tried to stay back with her, but she always smiled back saying she wouldn't be long and that it was alright. It had become a ritual of sorts, one he didn't really think about, it was just naturally how the nights seemed to end.

Hunk clicked the button, and the jaw opened obediently. That problem was solved. It released a bit of tension, released more as the door behind him finally clicked open. Coran and Keith were both working against the welding to rip the doors open. Keith with his bayard cutting through it, and Coran following behind, fixing up the door so that the material no longer was attached to anything other than itself.

Hunk was no longer trapped. He was finally able to leave the lion. And hopefully leave those thoughts behind him.

****

Hunk wanted to cook up a storm. Anything in the kitchen calmed him just as much as working in the workshop. He thought after the battle, a great dinner would help ease the anxiety everyone had. Also help ease the storming guilt building up in his empty stomach. Hopefully, replacing it with food would help. Hunk often operated alone in the kitchen, but tonight Lance had decided to join. He had tried to help as much as he could, like asking Hunk what he needed, then subsequently following that by asking where do I get that? Every minute Lance would point to a miscellaneous item and waited for Hunk's response. So for as much help as Lance was trying to be, it was more just his mere presence Hunk appreciated.

Hunk finished the toppings of the food. Squirting one last piece of sauce on them, spreading it out across the plate like a true born chef.

"Finished." Hunk announced. He gave Lance a thumbs up, who responded in kind. Lance begun to hover over the food — he must have been starving — but Hunk swatted away his hand as soon as it reached down to take a piece of their dinner.

"All together man, that's what dinner is for." Hunk pouted. Meals were nicer spent together, and with a very minimal number of passengers on the castle. He'd take anything he got.

Lance nodded, an abnormally quiet response for him. Lance was able to fill any room with conversation even at the worst of times, so for him to be silent now was not a good sign. Hunk patted his shoulder, hoping to reassure him.

"You did your best." Hunk spoke. "We all did."

Hunk almost stuttered over the words, realising just how much he needed to hear them himself as well. Lance's confidence returned, even if only by a slim amount. Hunk could just barely see the twinkle in his eyes and the way his shoulders lifted a little from their previously slouched position. A win in Hunk's book, in about 10 doboshes, Lance would be his usual self. He just needed a little coaxing to remember that quietness did not fit him.

*****

The dinner went over well. Hunk and the rest of them tried to keep it positive. The looming threat of Zarkon was easier to keep at minds length when they never had to experience it first-hand. But seeing his grand command centre, the large battleships that followed and the firing power it collectively had. They knew of the risks. After all, they would have to face him eventually. But given their missions were so— well minimal in size and goal. It was a juxtaposition best not made. A blatant reminder of just how little they had managed to achieve. It had been months since they got the blue lion. It was hard to remember that this empire took 10,000 years to make. It was going to take them longer than a couple of months to destroy.

Food made Hunk think more thoroughly and optimistically. He needed this when he was trapped away in the cockpit of the lion. Maybe then he wouldn’t have thought about what he had. Though at the same time, he knew he needed to work these feelings out. He would sound them out eventually, but he just wanted to put them aside for now.

After dinner, he and Coran cleaned the dishes, returning them to what must have been a dish washer. Hunk never really asked Coran — the motions of cleaning up were too relaxing to probe about the castle. Despite how interesting it was. Hunk liked quiet moments like these — he had similar ones with Pidge.

After the clean-up, it was usual pace that Pidge and Hunk gathered in the workshop. Sometimes working on code with each other, trying their best to come up with new ways to get into the galra systems and track their movements. Or simply just understand the castle and lions a little better.

It was nice. Hunk needed someone on the same wavelength he was with machinery. Lance tried, he did, but it was never natural for him as piloting was. Often Lance joined them just to talk their ears off, which was nice background noise for Hunk. After all, it was a nostalgic reminder of their time back at the garrison. Though, Hunk could tell Pidge didn't overly care for it. It was evident due to the way she would eventually sigh and huff louder and louder until Lance got the message. But recently, she no longer did that. She was as happy as Hunk to have Lance loiter — granted that whatever they were working on wasn't urgent or terribly important.

They all went over their usual motions of the night. Keith dropped by to see where they all were, before swiftly leaving. Lance eventually ran out of topics, tapping his clock to signify beauty sleep called him. Then it was just the two of them left working until Hunk ran out of steam. He wanted to ask Pidge what her personal project was, and his tired brain decided this was a good night to do so.

"Hey Pidge, what do you do in here when I leave?"

Her eyes shot up, and mouth slightly ajar. She wasn't expecting him to ask that. Maybe he was too direct. After such an intense mission, maybe now was the wrong time to probe her with his questions, as well intentioned as they were.

"Nothing really." She responded, slowly working her jaw as she found the words she next spoke. "Just some left over coding I wanted to work on before the day ends."

Hunk wanted to believe that’s all it really was. He didn't want to believe she had a reason for hiding anything else from them.

"Alright." He cleared his throat. Relinquishing eye contact and motioning towards the door. "If you need any help with it just let me know. I'm here for anything you need."

It almost looked as if she was going to respond. To tell him to stop and share what troubled her so.

But all he received was,

"Goodnight Hunk."

Chapter Text

Pidge wanted to tell him, she really did. Hunk was good with secrets and comforting others. He knew just what to say and when to say it to make you feel better. But she just couldn't get the actual words out. It felt the same when she told them she wasn't a boy. She wanted to add that her name wasn't really Pidge — that it was just a nickname. But it never managed to reach her tongue, it was stuck in her throat like a lump needing to be swallowed back down. So it disappeared back inside and never be shown to anyone.

Matt had given her Pidge. She only had that nickname, and the glasses he gifted to her the day before the Kerberos mission. To confirm it wasn't her name and tell them it was Katie instead, felt like she had to admit to them that her family was dead. They couldn't be though — knowing what she did, the kerberos mission wasn't a crew failure. They were taken, and most likely at that, by the galra. But without voltron, her confidence in finding them waned. What if they were on Zarkon's battleship? They couldn't combat that alone. Pidge was detail orientated rather than bigger picture person. She needed to know where they were before bringing it to the rest of the group.

Allura turned down so many possible missions, for reasons like not enough fire power, too many galra, too little galra, planet too dangerous, conditions too hazardous, etc. Pidge doubted the princess would turn down her chance to find her family. Afterall, she had lost her entire planet, surely she could understand Pidge's need to get her father and brother back. But the mere chance that she could veto it — as slim as it was — turned her stomach upside-down and inside out. Allura was kind and caring, but Pidge was calculated. If the team wasn't willing and she needed to leave to do it herself, she wanted all the information at her disposal beforehand.

Maybe telling Hunk would have helped. Another set of hands to assist her, another mind to think through the possibilities. But it was all just too risky and Pidge wasn't going to take no as an answer. Her family needed her.

Pidge knew of the cruelties of the galra. What had happened to the rest of the universe was terrible. The horrific violent acts, the slavery, entire species going extinct, whole planets decimated and destroyed. Her brother and father were out there, in the middle of it all. She hoped they hadn't been separated, that they still had each other. Maybe Shiro was also with them. He was a legend to her family— a legend to earth the way he set new records at the garrison practically every day. Well maybe that was an exaggeration, but that’s how Matt and Dad always told her it happened. Pidge only really had their extravagant stories and retellings to go off, in the end, she never met Shiro.

Leaving earth was hard— not even having time for a goodbye to her mother—but out in space she felt closer than ever to her family. If she could find her brother and father, her family would finally be whole again. She thought over Earth, she knew what lies the garrison told about the kerberos mission. She knew their routine of hiding threats and faking information to keep the general public calm. What did her mother think happened to her? The thought pressed against her eyes, threatening tears. Did she think Pidge had died too?

Pidge never believed the reports, but her mother had. Pidge always told her the opposite, the garrison was lying, they covered it up, saving their own asses rather than admitting the possibility of aliens kidnapping their crew. A part of her did seem to understand where Pidge came from. But without Pidge there to help her understand their lies, would she give in to them?

Oh. When did she start crying. Raising her knees up to her head, holding herself together with what little strength she had left. It felt better than to have everything out in the open. At least here she could screw up her face to the world without it knowing.

******

Pidge had barely slept, but that was normal for her. Allura ordered everyone to have some down time after the last mission. It was usual to have a day just to themselves—give their bodies and minds a rest— so that when they were on a mission, they were clear headed and 100% ready for anything.

Pidge decided to use today to continue her research. The daytime would be devoted to her normal paladin duties and night to her Matt and Dad hunt. But she desperately needed to know why Zarkon had personally picked up that lone soldier, or the galra battleship, or both?

She decided to comb through the camera footage. Starting at where she missed the most, inside the galra ship. She found her body cam, checked the time stamp and switched to yellow and Hunk's camera at the same point. Pidge watched on as three fighters approached Hunk. He bit down on all three, but it was last one that stuck. She reversed the footage back and saw the pilot had twisted the ship so that the top was in line with Hunk. The pilot then ejected itself, making it look like a simple piece of debris and vastly increasing its approach towards him. The ship twisted once more — now that no one was at the helm — and crashed directly into yellow's mouth. The soldier had managed to manipulate the trajectory of the crashing ship right to the decimal. It knew it would make the mouth stuck, even without being there to control it.

This galran was smart, could fight well and now was a great pilot. Each time they ran into it, it employed a different strategy. Each time it knew how to manipulate the situation in it's favour. It was like it knew their responses before them, and used their reactions against them. Pidge just needed to turn the tables and do the same to it.

Watching the footage back, she saw it enter the yellow lion, then trick Hunk again. It was frustrating to watch how smoothly it operated. But at the same time Pidge could tell how injured it was. The soldier moved incredibly slow, lurking in the shadows of the lion's innards. It seemed to be compensating for it's injury, but if it was a high ranking soldier, surely it would have been healed by now? It had been at least one movement since they freed Ogore. With the soldier escaping once again, they assumed it had fled off planet. Maybe it had hunkered down, aiming to hitch a ride on the battlecruiser traveling over Ogore? But if it was so low ranking that it had to ride the worst possible battleship back, why did Zarkon and Haggar come for it?

She continued the footage, watching the scuffle on Lance and Keith's body cam, the soldier was nearing death. She could see the discolouration of flesh, a clear sign of infection being exasperated by the hits both the paladins were landing. When both of them moved away, she tried to keep track of it. Pidge watched it slug back off onto the ship. It smashed against the ground, then hunkered in the corner. The soldier curled in on itself with the broken prosthetic folding inwards. The galra was cradling it as it begun spewed a mix of electricity and red sludge.

The rest of them were in the yellow lion, so she switched cameras to the castle. It captured footage of the Zarkon's central command, using a tractor beam to lift not the ship, but only the soldier inside. Okay, Pidge could work with this. She needed to figure out why this soldier was so important, yet seemed so expendable at the same time. So she began combing through the rest of the footage they had on it. Eventually turning towards the records she managed to download from the galran cruiser, planet Ogore and anything else she had on hand.

*****

"Pidge?" Lanced questioned, he over pronounced every syllable he could. Despite the word only having one.

She lifted her head. How long had it been since she last moved? Her back ached and her neck even more so. Both groaning in pain as she lifted her head to just barely reach above the monitor. Sticking out her nose at Lance, peering directly at him.

"What?" She intoned.

She was obviously working right now and Lance promised earlier that he wouldn't bother her until dinner— well guess that answers the question of why she felt so bad. Checking the time, she had managed to skip breakfast, lunch and now almost dinner in one fell swoop.

"Have you eaten today?" He prodded.

Even though it wasn't mean spirited, more caringly checking in — she still felt the need to give him a scowl. Maybe a little too hangry right now, but oh well, Lance could deal with it. She closed down her tabs, one was a direct look at the soldier's wound. She was trying to compare it with data bases of alien physiology. It wasn't turning up much, probably because she was starting to lose her head to hunger.

Pidge thought if she knew the species of it, she may learn some of the other strategies it may employ. As different aliens tended to prefer different methods. Alteans liked to be diplomatic, galran were violent, the unilu were strategic in deception and bargaining. But Pidge didn't feel like anything really fit. It was violent sure, but she didn't feel like the way it approached attacking the paladins was uniquely galran.

Something else bothered her. The body cam footage of when Lance shot the sentry the second time they ran into the soldier. It had used the hand almost in a waving motion— maybe to just dislodge the shoulder connection, so that it could punt it at Lance. But if it did actually wave, she wasn't sure that was a universal gesture or just unique to earth. She needed to keep an open mind, consider all possibilities before she focused on a singular explanation. But she was drawing blanks at almost every corner. She desperately needed a lead that could answer all her questions. And she had a plan on how to get it.

*****

"I want to go back to the cruiser." Pidge announced.

The dinner was mainly Lance speaking about his day, how he lounged about, somehow managed to give himself a back massage and other habits he did to groom his look. So when Pidge finally spoke up, it jolted the entire group. Lance's voice was the only one heard over the past 30 doboshes, so to hear her high pitched squeak was a definite juxtaposition.

"Which cruiser?" Hunk enquired. But the thought was already occurring to him which one, it seemed like he just wanted to be polite and ask her to continue.

"I want to try get more information from the damaged cruiser." Pidge elaborated. "I checked the footage back, Zarkon only arrived to get the soldier. He must've left the cruiser behind so it gives us an in to his.."

She had started to trail off. Her confidence was slightly drifting away. She expected someone to interrupt her by now — tell her it wasn't worth it, that they already had all they needed. The soldier was just one alien after all, was not even Zarkon. Or maybe… Hopefully not, Zarkon wasn't the type for dirty tricks it seemed. He was a violent tyrant, not a sly fraudster who duped his way to the top of the universe. This had to be someone else. It had to. Someone else was pulling all of the strings, Zarkon just had a small part in the whole operation. A piece of it, but perhaps not the one at the helm.

"I think that's a fine plan Pidge." Allura agreed.

She begun to stand diplomatically, an automatic response she had when discussing anything paladin or politics related. Though she stopped halfway, seeming to remember she was simply at a dinner— the motions of politics and dramatics were not required— where everyone was familiar and on the same side to each other.

Pidge let out a small thankful smile. Perhaps she would tell the team the other reason why she wanted galran information so badly. But not now. Later maybe.

Chapter Text

Lance was ready to get back in the game. He needed to prove himself and everyone that he was the best of the best. His performance in the last mission, was sub optimal. This soldier had hurt him and had gone after Hunk. He and Keith both bounced off each other, it just seemed appropriate the way they acted in the moment. But looking back on it now, he felt— well, ashamed. He never wanted to get that angry and violent.

It filled his gut, bursting smoke out his ears like a cartoon character. This was war, and this war was inherently brutal. He understood that, he knew sooner or later, that same brutality would come for him. It would take him by the hand and rip out his gentle heart, replacing it with a cold dead substitute. But he didn't know when or where that would happen. In a way, he was glad it was light years away from his family. Far away from their judgemental gazes prompting him that violence wasn't the way to go about things. But the galra wouldn't listen to that, they went after Lance, went after Hunk, after everyone and everything. He had to do what he could. He just didn't expect to be so filled with rage, that his judgement was clouded enough to put the team in jeopardy.

Maybe he was overthinking it, they made it through it. No one was hurt. Well… Keith got punted in the face, but Lance thought maybe it was slightly deserved. He did almost rip the other guy's prosthetic in half. Oh. Maybe Lance shouldn't think like that, hurting anyone was hard, but hurting the galra was made easier by all the evil they had done to everyone else. They didn't give others mercy. They didn't deserve humanisation. So when Lance did happen to do it, his heart twisted in ways that seemed to lump his throat and other organs all into one.

It wasn't natural what they had to do, but it was what they needed to do. And for the safety of the universe, Lance would do it all. So when Pidge wanted back on the damaged cruiser. He was the first to volunteer. It only seemed appropriate, he already slightly knew his way around — with Pidge's directions of course. But she would be there anyways, so potato tomato. Or whatever the saying is. Point being, he could be useful. Helpful to the team once again.

Feeling a sense of responsibility, Lance needed to help out where he could. Because honestly, there was a lot he lacked in. He wasn't great with technical skills, Hunk and Pidge had that covered, and Keith was a good fighter and pilot. Not that Lance would ever admit that to anyone. It was hard to find where he fit. Leader wasn't really for him, the black lion's constant dismissal of everyone on board the castle was evidence enough of that. He needed his own place in the team — needed something to make him stand out. He thought that sharp shooter felt good, but no one really seemed to acknowledge it at all. Another mission, would be his time to shine. To show everyone — himself included — what he could do.

*****

When they arrived back at Ogore, they split forces. Well, split Coran off. He went back down to the planet to interview the population on what they saw of the soldier, as well as the battle that occurred in space above them. They made sure beforehand, that no galra had returned to take back over the planet, and none had. A little strange, seeing as they were mere clicks away from an available invasion. An easy shot for the galra to take back against the paladins, but they never did. They just picked up the soldier and left.

So with that information at their disposal, Allura decided to man the castle once again. The rest of them boarded the red lion. Supposedly, fastest speed for fastest escape, but Lance was pretty sure Blue could do that too. He reluctantly thought he'd give this one to Keith. He was going to be the bigger man once again, another point to Lance. That left Hunk, Lance and Pidge to enter the cruiser, using the same entrance as last time.

Keith lowered them towards where the ion canon would have been attached. Each launched out, propelling themselves with their jetpacks. The gravity on the ship was completely inoperable in this area— which didn't leave them with many other choices. Swiftly moving through the galran hallways and rooms, they eventually reached the halls with gravity still working. It was not the regular amount, Lance could still jump way higher than needed. It was fun though, so Lance just bounded from wall to wall, to ceiling and back to the floor. The constant movement was good for him, but not so much the others. It prompted Pidge to latch her bayard around his leg and pull him down by his as she led them back to the main console. The room was the same as they left it, aside from the screens now being on even more of a low power mode. This cruiser was going to kick the bucket any second, so they needed to be fast.

The first time they were here, Pidge wanted to get all the information she could, but ran into a couple of hitches. So she decided to just simply turn the sentries off instead, and only download the elementary information that had access to. It was the right decision even if they didn't know it in the moment. They were able to get back to Hunk just in time. Everything about their last mission was just in time. Just barely.

Currently, Hunk was more interested in the cruiser's insides than Lance. It was the first time they could properly explore one without threat of galra. He was glancing over every edge, every console, every little piece of technology. The guy was practically in awe from everything in sight, but Lance didn't think much of anything here. It was cool, but not as cool as the castle of lions. After all, the colours there were brighter, and the fact that the main one is blue. Lance couldn't help but feel pride in that.

Pidge was trying to power up some of the systems, so Lance decided he would wander around a little. Their comms were online and everything was going smoothly. It was unsettling, even though no one was here, that didn't stop missions from suddenly turning sideways. So Lance was going to prevent that,

"I'm going to go patrol the ship a little." He announced. "Wanna make sure we are safe."

He received a symphony of "Okays" from Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Keith.

Good. They trusted him and knew he could handle it.

"Stay safe." Allura added.

"Always am." He sounded back, his usual snide reply didn't feel as authentic or comforting as it normally did. Almost landing slightly flat, the last time he was on his own— it was out of his control of course— he was injured and almost died. This time that wasn't going to happen. He was better, and more experienced. Even if by only a little over a week, anything counted when they were all still just glorified amateurs. He headed down the halls, checking twice for anything that moved. He lit the torch in his helmet, nothing in the dark would surprise him.

Lance could hear Pidge and Hunk mumbling a whole bunch of jargon to each other every so often over the comms. Didn't really make a whole lot of sense to him, but hey, they seemed to understand each other. He made his way through a large chunk of the ship. Never straying too far from the bridge — if all hell broke loose — Lance needed to be close by.

Slowly he inched around another corner, the doorway housed something similar to the castle's healing pods. Except these were stuck in the edges of the walls, rather than free standing in the middle of the room. He went to investigate further within, probably not necessary, but his interest in just wandering the halls was growing thin. Plus, he had no clue when Pidge and Hunk would finish up. So filling his time in with some activities seemed like a good plan. He made sure to be careful still, doing a quick scan with the light, then swiftly entering the room.

His bayard was out, never letting go of it the entire time he explored. It was a good way to stay alert and ready. Walking through the room, Lance could see tables full of medical equipment, or maybe stuff for the sentries? It was kind of hard to tell, the galra weren't really ones for full scale healing. The scars that followed them after battles were honourable, something to be proud of. A symbol that they had looked death in the face, and won. So compared to the castle, these healing pods were much more minimal. Lance was getting lost in his train of thought when something felt cold on his boot.

He lifted it up, some sort of liquid had trailed out from the healing pod, right to where he was standing. It looked as though it led right back out into the halls. But the lack of lighting meant he couldn't follow it well enough from where he stood. It was then that he noticed, one of the pods was shut— all the others were open, free range of sights inside— and the all-important trail of blood led right to it.

Oh no. Lance fought of the urge to just open the pod. If it was something in there, he needed to let the team know before he did anything. But if he waited for backup, or rushed back to Pidge and Hunk himself. Would whatever was in there escape?

Shit.

Decisions. Decisions. He was drawing up blanks. He needed a leader to tell him what to do. Lance wanted so badly to be that leader, but right now, he was frozen in place. He was better in a team situation, running off adrenaline and listening to commands. The previous time he was his own, he nearly died, did he mention that before?

The healing pod puffed a gust of air. It was opening itself. The decision had been made for him. Lance held his bayard ready, he would get the shot off before whoever was in there could finish saying quiznak. As soon as the pod's door slid open, he pre-fired at the darkened figure inside. Watching on as it dropped to the ground and bled some sort of liquid.

It wa around statically on the floor, shivering in multiple directions as more and more liquid exploded outwards. It was pooling underneath, the figure's legs were strutting out in every direction, with metalic sounds clanking against the floor. The lighting was so poor in the area, lance still had no clue just what he shot at. It didn't scream, wasn't making any sounds, just a silent struggle on the floor as Lance was stuck just being a spectator. He moved his torch around, eventually landing the half hazard spotlight on it. It was— Oh it was just a sentry bot. The sentry begun spoke a large chunk of galra nonsense. The translator in his helmet bugged out from the first two sentences, but managed to catch the third.

"Need. Rep- Repairs. On way to- repair centre."

This sentry must have mistaken these healing pods for a repair centre. The situation was a little comical to Lance. His hair no longer stood on end. He relaxed his shoulders, when did he become so tightly wound? A giant sigh left his mouth. Just a stupid sentry.

"We're going as fast as we can Lance." Pidge rebutted.

"Oh. What? No, that's not why I was sighing I—" Lance was at a loss for words. When they would come back to him, he'd fashion a fantastic retelling of the story. But for now, Lance just wanted to give himself a bit of time to cool down before returning to the group.

Chapter Text

Hunk and Pidge were like a well-oiled machine. Working succinctly and handing tools to the other before they even asked. The only issue was the galra side of things — their technology had almost like a parent lock, blocking out any other species from access. A sentry hand was a good entry, but it did not have high enough clearance to access much. Plus, if the galra found out what they were trying to get or how they were accessing it, maybe they would put up harsher fire walls and block them out completely. They needed to be careful where they stepped or risk burning the bridge forever.

Pidge was scanning through a heap of files at once, whilst Hunk was sifting through an entire different section. He looked over at hers, just to make sure they weren't doubling up. This cruiser was sure to power down eventually so they needed to get everything they could while it was still operational. She had security records, personnel on the ship, previous locations it had travelled to, food storage, prosthetics and prisoner details. Hm, okay Hunk needed to stop looking at security records, she had that covered.

They were both zooming through, barely reading over the information but downloading it with quick haste. After all, they could take a proper look at it later. The cruiser shifted, slightly shaking as potentially more systems shut down. The power warnings blared, letting them know the emergency power was dwindling. Seconds after the warnings sounded, the power cut completely. That was final, they got as much as they could. Allura and Keith would be waiting upon their return now. Pidge let out a shaky breath, she must have wanted more. But they managed to get a good chunk to sift through. Hunk thought she looked a little pale, so he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You alright?" Hunk asked.

"Yeah, yeah thanks." She responded. It wasn't an earnest response, Hunk could tell. But if she didn't want to tell him, that was okay. He would be there for her anyway. He removed his hand from her shoulder, shifting his attention to start packing up their gear. Pidge stared at the pad in front of her, unmoving aside from the slight tremble in her hands. Hunk wanted to ask again, but Pidge wasn't one to share much. He didn't want to pressure her into doing something she didn't want to, so he just let her be. He could do the packing up for the both of them. A crash sounded out behind them, followed by stomping footsteps approaching from the hallway. Lance skidded into the room, smashing into a nearby table from the pure speed he was using.

"The power cut!" Lance shouted, splaying his arms out in a panicked motion.

"Yeah, but we have lots to work with." Hunk responded, he looked back at Pidge. He tried to keep his tone confident, he wanted to get more out of this trip too, but sensed revealing that wouldn't help anyone, especially with how disappointed Pidge looked. She nodded back and Lance shifted uneasily on his feet. He probably was just as glad to be off a galra cruiser as the rest of them. It was eerie enough to be on one with a hoard of galra. But without anything, it just felt plain haunted.

"Keith we're on our way out." Lance commed.

"Alright." Keith noted.

Keith was waiting pretty much where they left him. The journey back was simple,. Lance constantly checki corners whilst Pidge gave an eye roll as she monitored her pad. Both of them double checking that no one else was here on this abandoned cruiser. It felt nice that all Hunk had to do was just walk. The long empty hallways filled only with darkness and his friends, it felt like they were traversing through a haunted house back on earth. Hunk never really liked them but Lance loved the thrill. He loved rollercoasters, theme parks and everything in between. Always convincing Hunk that he just had to go with him. And of course he did, but that always led to Hunk throwing up on the rollercoasters and squealing alongside Lance as a scare actor sprung out from the dark. It was nice, but so different from where they were currently, the danger here was real. Yet Hunk felt so blinded by nostalgia that his mind conjured up feelings of warmth. He'd give himself this. He thought he deserved it.

*****

They got back to the castle of lions with no issues. No giant galra hoards appearing, no cruiser exploding, no hacking the lions. Nothing. Coran joined them, filling everyone in that the Ogorians barely saw the fight between Zarkon and the paladins. But the few that witnessed it, said that the galra left as soon as they did. Seemingly the battle had ended as soon as it started. As for the soldier, there was reports of a stolen Ogorian fighter lifting off at the time the battle cruiser flew over. Some rebel uniforms were torn to shreds too. Coran thought that must have been how the soldier got to the cruiser. Given the time estimations he gave, the soldier had about 15 doboshes before the paladins arrived. It couldn't have done much inside the cruiser, so maybe the only thing it managed was to board a fighter.

Coran's explanation was easing some of Hunk's anxieties, having solid evidence of what happened helped. It took away the toll of mystery and theorising. Even if there was so many missing pieces still, they were closer to figuring it out, and that have would be enough for now.

Allura had ushered them all to training after a few hours of relaxation. She wanted to strengthen the bond they had with each other. Doing trust exercises, and some sort of astral projection of their thoughts. It involved a head set that created a visual representation, and she wanted them to imagine was the lions combining into voltron. That process a little hard, especially without a fifth member to form the black lion. Coran tried to pitch in, filling the spot by imagining the black lion— well he made it orange to match his hair, with a matching large cape on the back and a giant C on the front. Hunk, Lance and Keith tried their best— Pidge also. But she had her mind elsewhere, kept thinking of a picture of her and her girlfriend? Hunk didn't want to pry, but Lance did not have that much restraint.

"Pidge come on, stop thinking about your girlfriend." Lance pouted. He was tired, seemed like he just wanted to finish the exercise and leave.

"He's— It's not my girlfriend. Whatever just stay out of my head." Pidge yelled. Throwing down the headset, she didn’t want to do this either, none of them seemed to. Keith gave an almost considerate look towards her. It was kinda hard to tell though, his face was almost always pulled to a scowl. Coran was the only one still participating in the exercise, imagining his tiny lion had completed the voltron transition itself. Landing on top of the entire universe and planting a flag above it all. Then the tiny orange voltron pointed at Pidge.

It spoke "A break perhaps number 4?"

"Yes please." Pidge looked sad, too sad. Hunk needed to do something about this. He couldn't get her to open up to him, but he could definitely cook up a storm for her.

*****

Hunk was humming to himself in the kitchen. He was baking pastries, slow cooking the filling, icing a desert to be placed back in the fridge and cutting fruit to decorate. He was on a complete roll. Everyone had gone their separate ways after training, but that was okay, because Hunk would bring them all together with a hearty meal. He was dancing over to the oven, as a loud alarm blared. Hunk was beginning to have enough of alarms and timers for a life time. It sounded out again, but this time was followed Allura's voice.

"There's an intruder on board. Paladins this is not a drill. I need you to put your helmets on so I can switch transmissions."

Hunk obeyed immediately, switching off every cooking device he had on in the kitchen. Sprinting out towards where he suspected the others would be. He still had his armour on, since he wanted to go straight to cooking. In hind sight, that was a really good idea. Hunk rounded a corner, he knew at least one of them would be lounging in their personal quarters—Lance probably. Sprinting around, he rounded the last corner before the quarters—

And slammed directly into Lance.

"Ow dude." Lance was massaging his jaw. "Did you have to be going so fast?"

"Sorry"

"Nah it's cool" Lance did a finger gun at Hunk. He probably just wanted to make fun of Hunk more than actually chastise him for tripping over each other. For some reason, he was also still wearing his paladin armour. Helmet and all. Hunk twisted his head, there was something moving behind Lance, it was coming closer and closer, but it was just a touch too dark to be another paladin. They still had their colours on their armour, and white ascents, so it had to be something darker than that. It was— should have been expected really— the same galran soldier they kept seeing.

"Watch out!" Keith yelled.

He was hot on it's tail, chasing just a couple of metres behind. The soldier ran straight towards them, using the jets in it's legs to propel itself up and over Hunk and Lance. Flipping into a roll to spread the impact when it landed back on the floor. Continuing to sprint the soldier screeched to turn the corner, then sped up once more. Hunk and Lance both let Keith jump over them as well— they knew better than to cause another collision. After he passed, both begun sprinting in a formation with Keith at the front.

"Princess can you shut the tunnels I just sent?" Pidge sounded on the radio. They had no clue where she was currently, but that didn't matter too much right now. There was a slight pause before a response.

"Will do, please be careful paladins. I am on my way." Allura puffed, she sounded like she was mid run.

Hunk tried to think over what Pidge's plan was. The soldier was sprinting in front of them, head twitching left and right at every usual intersection of walkways, but for some reason there were none. Hunk realised Pidge must have shut the tunnels to lead it to a trap, possibly for some kind of pincer movement. Yeah, that seems like a good plan.

The galran continued to sprint through the hallways, it's technique was eerie, it's head never moved up and down like Hunk's. It was a bullet in the wind compared to him. Even still, it kept an eye on the rest of them, twitching it's head back to see their progress in comparison to it's own. Eventually they must have gotten too close, as the soldier decided to speed up even more. It was a little too fast for Hunk but Keith and Lance were managing. It might have escaped if not for the doors constantly closing over any chance of escape.

They rounded one last corner as the soldier seemed to jump like a cat. Opting to skid straight into the wall than continue its march further. Hunk assumed that it was because Pidge was there waiting to block any attempts at an escape. When he finally managed to catch up, he was right— well technically, Allura and Coran were also there. All three were in a position to attack. Coran had an abundance of weapons all wrapped around his back. He spun the Altean equivalent of nun chucks, carefully spinning it as to avoid it swinging back into himself. He alternated it in each hand, brows furrowed in concentration. Allura had grown two feet taller with a spear in her hands and Pidge was beside them both with her green bayard ready.

Keith was the first to move. He was seething with rage as he launched himself at the soldier with his sword outstretched. He was closing in for an attack, and yet, the soldier didn't even motion to defend itself, just stood still against the wall, with it's left hand once again pressing against the side of it's helmet. Keith was closing in, his rageful spirit urking towards the galran soldier with no regard for anything else. His sword was mere inches to scoring the galran's flesh when a roar sounded out below them. It shook the entire ship, forcing all of them to fall flat off their feet onto the floor.

The only one left standing was the soldier, it felt as though it was purposefully looming over them. It's confidence blooming due to now having an advantage against the paladins of voltron. But in reality, the galran held an immensely shaken body language. It's hand was sporadically pressing against it's helmet, whilst the prosthetic wrapped around it's torso. It wasn't attacking back, or taking the chance to hurt them all, rather it was shaking just as much as the ship moments before.

Hunk looked around, searching the other paladins faces. They each knew what it felt like to have a lion call to you. It was like a tug at your subconscious, but Hunk didn't feel anything from yellow. It had to be another lion. He caught Pidge's eye, no not her, moving on to Lance, no not him and Keith, nope. Then that left—

"The black lion." Coran realised.

Chapter Text

"I think we have found the missing paladin at long last!" Coran proudly announced. Everyone's jaws were agape, the princess included. She had lost all of her well-structured composure. Her face was drawn out of colour, it almost looked like tears were welling in her eyes. Keith knew she hated the galra, the species that destroyed her planet, took her mother and father. Everyone and everything she had ever known was crushed to dust. And now this soldier— the black paladin apparently seemed to be one of them.

Keith's stomach turned, lifting up towards his throat. Why did he feel so bad? The chances of him being galra was low, it had to be. So why did he feel like Allura's anger was also directed at him? He needed to get out, he needed to leave now. Keith looked around him, standing would be hard with how sick he felt. He needed to ground himself, stop his head from spinning so he could limit any faltering. He needed to be alone and not have the others follow him to see if he was alright. Keith spotted his bayard on the floor— tossed over to the side when he lost balance after the black lion's interruption. Maybe he could use it to help himself to stand up, run away or just get out of here.

His emotions were tongue tied, he was so angry moments ago— now he felt a mix of misery, sadness, anger, practically everything under the sun— but what could he do? Kill the potential black paladin? This was who they were looking for. Who they needed desperately months ago. But it was galran, tried to kill them multiple times and now was trying to do heavens knows what on the castle. Why did it break in? How? Was it somehow still on the battlecruiser? Had it caught a ride on red, with Keith unaware?

Keith's stomach threatened removing his lunch, lurching up his throat, he could feel the acid burning at his tongue. This was not the time. He choked on a breath, forcing it back down. He could do whatever when he was alone, but now in front of everyone was not the time to expel Hunk's well-made food. Keith reached for his bayard, but wasn't fast enough, the soldier kicking the weapon away before he could reach it. Slowly the bayard slid over to Lance as the soldier barely expelled any effort in the movement.

"Hey watch it man." Lance sounded.

The soldier lit up the purple arm, defensive once more. It stood between them all, almost shaking. Everyone's body language was reading as distraught — the soldier included. It had the same breathing movements when Keith had tried to kill it the last mission. The same sickly familiar panic attack from earth. A rush of guilt flooded Keith's heart, he could not handle another emotion right now.

The soldier shifted its feet and started to scramble up the walls. Flipping and latching onto any ledges present, it was almost like watching a gymnast at work. The constant movement was not helping Keith. Not one bit. It cracked open a vent, torching it with the purple palm. Tossing the vent off the edge, allowing it to fall right in front of Keith. Peaking out from underneath his bangs, he could see a burnt hand print stamped across the bars.

No one was motioning to get up. To follow it or stop it from escaping — everyone but Coran. His brow furrowed, determination the only thing on his face. He started up the wall, scrambling to match the soldier's movements, but fumbled at the very first one. His absurd amount of weapons weighed him down, barely allowing any of his jumps reach above 10 cm.

"I can track it through the ship." Pidge weighed in, "I just need to-"

"No, leave it." Allura interrupted. She was looking as sullen as Keith felt, but he had his helmet on. A protection. A barrier keeping his feelings from everyone else.

Pidge nodded and looked down, pressing buttons on her pad, the hallways opened up. Escape was near, and Allura took it immediately. Keith focused in on his breathing, in… for 5, out… for 7. Or something like that.

Getting up, he could feel the corners of his vision was drawing blanks. His legs were shaking, no not now. Everyone had other things to deal with, Keith did not want to be coddled. They all just had the revelation of who their future team mate was and he was determined to not make it worse. So he turned into the nearest room, the automatic door shutting behind him.

He was— He was going to— faint.

*******

"Keith."

That sounded like—

"Keith?"

Was he back on earth?

"Ok now you're just bumming me out."

Wait, no that’s Lance.

"what?" Keith managed.

The word was so quiet he wasn't sure it made it past his helmet, or even past his lips. It was as if it trailed off into the air only to combust upon release. He bit at his lip, he was sideways, or Lance was. Though, the immense pressure on his side settled that debate. Reaching up to his nose, it had been bleeding, noticeably a lot but it had been long since dried and crusty. He stared back at his hand, it was shaking as if he was freezing, but right now he felt uncomfortably warm. Sweat was trailing down his forehead onto his cheeks. His paladin armour felt like a bonafide barbeque, with the only meal being a dirty Keith.

Keith let out a sigh, but that only made him aware of the aching in his chest. It continued up his spine to join his head. Great, now he had a possible migraine too. He felt something lightly prod at his shoulder, then again and again, until it was practically none stop. Naturally, Keith swatted it away, moving his hand out from his face, he could see now that it had been Lance.

"What?" He repeated. This time, he made an extravagant attempt at sitting up right. He flicked around his head just a little too far as the momentum carried it miles. His equilibrium was a catastrophe so he used his hands to balance it out. Planting them on either side of his body, as he bent his knees for slightly more stability.

"Hm, I don't know? Why are you on the ground?" Lance questioned.

"None of your business." Keith wasn't going to deal with Lance's smug replies. But when he looked up, Lance just had concern written on his face. No signs of judgement, and it almost looked like he had been crying.

"Were you crying?" Keith wearily expressed. Shoot, he didn't mean to say that out loud. Lance's face fell away as he brushed the front of his palms against his cheeks. Even in Keith's semi unconscious state, he could tell Lance was trying to clean up the dry tear lines, but only ended up smearing them further around.

"Just worried man. You disappeared, the soldier too. I was just worried about if it-" Lance begun to lose his sentence, his eyes seemed to search the room as if the words were on the wall. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there was the slight tint of light reflecting off the bottom of his eyes. Lance moved from squatting to a sitting position, curling his legs inwards and holding his hands against his knees.

Eventually, Lance's gaze landed back on Keith, putting a halt to his movements completely. Both parties were just staring at each other. Keith could see Lance was still desperately trying to form his sentence. Keith knew he should have said something, or tried to help Lance but he just felt like he was running on empty. All he could do was just stare back at the buffoon in front of him.

"It was trying to kill us every time we saw it, now it may be our leader?" Lance drew out the word leader, each syllable getting quieter and quieter. He was trying to figure out the right words to use next, motioning his arms around like it would help him catch them, and put the words right in his mouth.

"How's Allura?" Keith asked. Lance gave him a smug look in return, there it was. Keith knew this peaceful interaction between them wouldn't last long, but then Lance's expression disappeared behind the concern again. His eyebrows upturned and his eyes were big with curiosity.

"How about we focus on how you are?" Lance asked. He prodded Keith's shoulder again, prompting Keith to almost fall back. "Shoot oops."

"I'm fine." Keith looked back. When Lance pursed his lips in doubt — Keith decided to repeat, this time with more emphasis. "I am fine."

Lance's smile returned, he pointed his finger and mimed pressing Keith's shoulder again, eyebrows raised. A small smirk grew across his face, but it wasn't the usual overexerted one. Just a small indication of a smile, maybe Lance just naturally upturned only one side of his mouth when smiling. Keith moved his eyes off the other paladins mouth, and chose the floor instead. He was picking at his hands, all of his movements were so shaky, so he just pressed his hands into his lap. If they couldn't move, they couldn't shake.

"Sure you are." Lance intoned. "You hungry? We decided to just have food goo. Which is great because of the nutrients and how fast you can just eat it. No prep needed, but it's still not as good as Hunk's cooking. He didn't want to—"

Keith listened to Lance rant and rave about what he missed. It was grounding, his head stopped spinning after about the third topic. Not that he would actually tell Lance, or maybe he would.

"You ready to get up?" Lance stood up quickly, spreading his arms out to stretch, then his legs. They hadn't been there that long Keith thought. Keith wanted to leave this room— it was dark and devoid of furniture as it only had the purpose of miscellaneous storage— but he needed to make sure of something first.

"Do you know where it is right now?" Keith asked.

"Where what is?" Lance smugly replied.

"Fine. Don't answer."

Keith wasn't sure he could deal with seeing the soldier again, not after he just passed out for who knows how long. He attempted to stand up, moving off his butt and onto his legs. His head started spinning as he reached his normal stature. Keith felt himself sway a little to the right, so he tried to inconspicuously use a nearby wall for stability. Hopefully Lance wouldn't see.

"Pidge ended up tracking it, seems like it's just wandering through the vents and far edges of the castle right now. All of our quarters have locks to them, just when I checked yours, and you weren't there. I got a little worried." Lance slowly sounded out.

"Sorry. I just needed a minute." Keith apologised.

"More like 3 hours dude." Lance plainly stated.

Keith just sighed in reply, he didn't realise it had been that long. Though the aching throughout his body should have indicated as much. It was nice how Lance was so stable right now, well maybe not really stable, he was crying moments before. But compared to Keith right now, anyone would be considered a rock.

Chapter Text

The big reveal was done. They knew who they had been looking for. So why did it feel so gut-wrenching? Why was it such a disappointment? Lance didn't know. But what he did know, was how to cheer up others. His sister Veronica made sure he was good at that. The amount of crying fits he had— SHE had, okay maybe it was mostly Lance learning from her helping him. Not really important. He was good at calming down others. First-hand experience and all of that. Coran had ran after Allura, Pidge wandered off and Hunk gave Lance a look of sadness. Lance nodded back, and Hunk took that as signal to go help Pidge. So when Keith hurried off to the first room he saw — Lance wanted to follow straight away, but thought maybe he needed some alone time. Keith seemed to like being solitary and Lance was going to respect it.

The black lion had finally chosen it's paladin, and it picked a galran over all of them. Weren't there better choices? Was Lance really that bad that he was surpassed by a soldier who tried to kill them all? Lance didn't really know what he had expected the black paladin to be. It was always some foggy figment of his imagination, he just thought that when they eventually found them, Lance would be filled to the brim with confidence. They would be someone who was hope and leadership personified. Someone who would bring them all together with a definitive plan of action against any threats they faced. Someone who'd you would see on a poster, and think yeah that person looks like they have it all together. But instead of that, they had a murderously violent masked galran.

Lance sat in the hallway, just holding onto his knees. He was a tiny circle in this large castle, like a dust bunny just waiting for a breeze to push him elsewhere. What should he do right now? Where could he even go? What could he do? Lance was alone here, in a secluded corner of the castle previously inhabited by them all moments ago. His breath seemingly the only sound for miles. There was no one left here but him, well maybe the soldier was still in the vent. Not a comforting thought at all actually, having the enemy — guess a team mate now, loom over him whilst he felt so vulnerable.

Lance jolted his head up to look at the vent, it didn't seem to be occupied right now. Well hopefully wasn't. Lance hugged his knees tighter, he felt like he might just fall apart at the seams. Any loss of pressure could cause him to melt into a puddle of what he once was. He wasn't good enough be the black paladin, Lance had accepted that. So many attempts at it just naturally depleted his confidence. He thought that being in the blue lion was good enough, no not good enough, was amazing. Maybe he just needed some time to think; to mull things over until it made sense. Lance desperately wanted to keep his happy go lucky attitude, but it was slipping further and further away from him. He didn't want this soldier to be there leader, but what choice did he have? His personal circumstances meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Lance felt an ache in his shoulder, it was healed, it was healed, it is healed. It is. Please it is. Lance needed to leave, he didn't know if the soldier was still up there, but he wasn't going to find out. He was going to get out of here. Lance looked down the long hallway, making a mental note of the room Keith wandered into. Before standing himself, he tapped his fingers deciding which way to go. After Allura and Coran? Or Pidge and Hunk? By himself? Too many choices, Lance just, wanted to be alone before he tried to comfort anyone else. He was good at it— don't get it wrong— but that still didn't mean he could do it when his head wasn't straight either.

Bubble bath might help. Worth a try at least.

*****

Tonight was designated a make dinner yourself night. Fair enough Lance thought, so he waited in the kitchen eating his food goo. He made to check in with everyone who came by. Coran gave him a nod — he was quite chipper, but there was a slight sadness in his eyes. He had gone straight to comforting Allura, but that didn't mean he was okay with this whole situation either. He grabbed two plates of food goo, nodded to Lance then left. Shortly after, Hunk came in.

"You good Hunk?" Lance asked.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just not what I expected I guess." Hunk was unsure of himself. Cooking probably would help clear his head, instead he had chosen to look after Pidge. Selfless as ever Lance thought.

"You making sure to look after yourself too?" Lance needed to make sure Hunk knew he mattered too. That his worth wasn't based on others wellbeing, he mattered regardless.

"Yeah, it's sort of helped to be around Pidge. She's a bit sceptical of it all still. I mean I am too. But she's trying to come up with a plan to test whether the soldier really is the black paladin." Hunk gave a small smile. "It just helps to have something to work on, distract ourselves while we process everything." Lance had assumed they both would do as much. Hunk and Pidge were always tinkering away. Leaving the two of them together meant that a few hours later, they would come back with a brand new piece of technology, or code, or anything mechanical really.

Lance nodded back. He knew he was being more quiet than usual, whenever his mouth couldn’t keep up with his thoughts, it was hard to actually speak. Hunk must've sensed that, placing a hand on his shoulder, then pulling him in for a hug. Lance wanted to rant, to say all the things in his head — to get them out in the air so that Hunk could jump up and respond to them all, but returning the hug was all he could manage.

*****
Lance was wondering the halls. He checked the lounge, the bridge, the training deck, the red lion, basically any room that Lance knew Keith sometimes visited. Everything was bringing up nothing. Keith was nowhere to be found and unfortunately neither was the soldier. Okay think rationally. Their paladin armour had built in monitors to see their life force, or quintessence levels. Coran and Allura tried to explain it. Lance thought he got it, I mean the lions ran off it. Apparently every living thing did, but that's kind of where his knowledge stopped. Back to the point, Keith's hadn't alerted anyone that he was down, or- or anything else. Oh god, when did the water works start? Lance was so tired, emotions drained him like nothing else could. He overpronounced confidence in almost all situations, so why did he feel like this was the end? That he would see his fellow paladin dead before him.

After the last couple of rooms, Lance checked in with Pidge. She mentioned earlier that she could track it, and she was doing just that. The possible black paladin just seemed to be aimlessly roaming around. It hadn't come near any of them. Even before they found it, it didn't attack, it had just run away. Why did it not attack? And why, just why did he feel so bad for it? There was guilt swelling, it had hurt him, almost killed him, so why did he feel guilty? No one knew it could be the black paladin— hell they didn't even know now if it was true. It was the enemy to them, hours ago any of them would have struck it down without second thought. Now though, it could be part of the universe's saviour. The missing link they needed so badly months ago.

Lance tried to ignore how helpless they were. How inconsequential all of their victories had been, he really did. He pushed those thoughts aside but they always crept up on him eventually. It was inevitable, he couldn't avoid the fact that they had barely achieved anything at all. A few meagre planets was nothing in the grand scheme of things. But now, with the black paladin they had a real chance of actually saving the universe. Maybe having a galran would be good, it could balance out the team. Make sure they were doing what was right by the universe, and that included the galra. It was so easy to lump everyone into one basket and call an entire race evil. Surely that isn't the case though, if it is and this soldier turns on them then they can deal with it. But if it is the black paladin, and a good one at that, isn't that the goal? Wouldn't that be incredible? To see the universe saved by a team of humans, alteans and the galra. Now that would be unifying beyond compare.

Zarkon was evil, but that didn't mean that his whole race had to be defined by his actions. They could be forced to do the things they did, forced to follow their leader who presented them with a heavily manufactured norm, never allowing them to experience anything else. 10,000 years was an incredible amount of time to influence an entire race into conquering everything in sight. Even if they just started small — just convincing one galra at a time — Lance could do that. He was going to save the universe, that burden was his as a paladin. He just had to start small, just like they did when they only had four lions. Lance wiped away the tears, something he could do right now was make sure Keith was alright, and that's exactly what he did. Managing to talk him back to consciousness, point Lance.

Lance felt better, he had ranted and raved, his mind finally slowing enough for his mouth to speak. He felt infinitely calmer. He begun stretched upwards, then reached a hand down to help Keith stand too. He received the usual smack away. Oh well, point Lance, refusing kindness is not nice. Two points Lance actually, just for good measure.

"Thanks for that." Keith said sincerely. Wait did he mean that sincerely? Hm. Maybe Lance actually got through to him a little. It felt like for a minute, Lance just wanted to make himself feel better by ranting about what Keith missed. But the strategy actually worked in making them both feel better? That was a nice feeling, after so many hours of emotional turmoil, Lance finally felt a bit more like himself.

"You're welcome." Lance offered as he mimed a courtesy with a make belief dress. A smirk was only the cherry on top he had to do it all. His presentation earned him a bland stare from Keith. Ouch. Well it wasn't a glare, Lance guessed maybe that's a good sign. He flipped his arm out to point Keith towards the door— seemed like he had forgotten the way he came in. Keith walked through as both of their eyes had to adjust to the blaringly white lights of the castle. They were brighter than usual, Lance wanted to just ignore the possible reasons why. And the best way to do that? Talk Keith's ear off, of course.

*****

Lance was tossing and turning, he couldn't sleep. His pillow was too hot, yet his feet felt freezing and his torso felt a luke warm. He flipped off the blankets, throwing them against the wall, only for them to plummet back down to their original spot. Kicking them once more, until they once again sauntered back onto him. Lance wanted to rip the blankets up, well maybe he shouldn't do that, instead he decided that a short walk could help clear his head. Motioning towards the door, he wrapped the blankets back around him. No need to be cold on his walk, even though moments ago he was a heated blast of a fire pit.

Lance could barely see in front of him, the soft glow of the castle's light wasn't enough for his eyes to adjust to. He burrowed the blanket around his head, just barely allowing his eyes to peak out. He was way too cold, did someone lower the temperature of the castle? How could he have been hot just some moments ago? Lance yawned then continuing his journey towards the door, he suddenly froze. There was the tiniest hint of a sound in the hallway. Was someone there?

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

He listened, and listened, and listened. Didn't help that he knew for a fact that the soldier was quiet on its feet. His hair stood on stilts, maybe his overly large blanketed appearance would scare it off. If not, he'd scream from the top of his lungs. Did he mention he was incredibly tired right now? Ah no bother. He just needed to open the door and see who it was. He prepared two knuckle sandwiches as the door slide open. But no one- wait never mind, looking down there was someone; Allura's mice begun scampering into his room. Squealing about something he'd never understand. He wanted to go back to bed, but should check the rest of the hallway was clear before doing that. Yeah. Yeah. That's a good idea, point Lance some might say.

Clocking his head out, check the left, hm all clear maybe, probably. Then the right, and there it was. A dark figure standing off to the side, barely visible against the blackened environment. The only thing that tipped Lance off to it's presence was a slight tint of light reflecting off the helmet, or the eyes behind? Lance had no clue. Lance squinted as if it would somehow help him see better. The soldier looked sluggish, maybe just as tired as Lance. What little body language Lance could read, was purely drowsy. He could see the galran was grasping at it's torso, and haphazardly leaning against the wall with the other arm. Was it still hurt? It did still have the bandages on when they chased it through the hall, but they looked cleaner than the last ones, — leading Lance to assume it was just there precautionarily. But maybe it wasn't, did it even attempt to heal back with the galra? Lance's heart squished just a tad, as he remembered the previous events on the broken cruiser, was the blood he had seen the soldier's?

A yawn overtook his face, limiting his consciousness to just the bare minimum awareness of his interoceptive ability. He heard a scurrying back in his room. Looking back at the mice; they were making circles on his bed and preparing to sleep on his pillow. Selfish rats. Where was Lance going to put his head now? Lance felt his stance slide— the blanket had folded under his foot— losing his balance, his left foot shot forward almost landing him in a split. He was halfway in the hallway now, but the soldier didn't even bother to move. Hm. It was strange to see it so, docile. Not attacking, or running away, not even doing anything. Did it understand that it could be the black paladin? Why did it not attack Lance? Or was it waiting to trick him again? Did it even see Lance? He didn't know how well the galra could see in the dark, and with a mask on too? Too many questions, not enough brain power.

What he could focus on was tangible things. He had a roll of bandages left over from the injury on his shoulder. Keith had left it in his room, seemingly forgetting that Lance wouldn't need it after his trip to the healing pod. He grabbed it, and tossed it down the hallway. Unfortunately it began unravelling a little, yeah didn't think that through well enough. The soldier didn't move, but it's head titled down as it looked towards the roll. Lance gave a wave, then headed back to his room.

Wait, he wanted to go for a walk. His head was starting to clear a little but not nearly enough for him to attempt sleeping just yet. Lance confidently walked back out, checking the hallway he could just barely tell that the roll of bandages was gone and so was the soldier. Hmm. Lance would head the other way, he wanted to just be alone. His door shut over, leading the mice to squeak impossibly loud from the other side. He turned back to open it, as they gathered around him to punch at his feet — should have been obvious they wanted company.

They began walking down hallways and peaking in random rooms of Lance's choosing. He didn't have a plan where to go, just wanted to get some of his anxious energy out. He kept peering over his shoulder; checking for any sign of movement behind him. It was too dark to see anything, and if he really wanted to, he could turn on the lights. Blare them out and force the soldier into the spot light, but he just didn't have the drive to do it right now. He was so angry at it, had so much hatred brewing inside. It hurt him, it hurt Hunk, Pidge and Keith. It tried to kill them. Well maybe that was a stretch, sure everyone said Lance almost died, but he didn't. The soldier must have had a clear chance to stab him. To kill him instead of slamming his head into the wall. So why didn't it? Lance felt so drained, he helped Keith and he gave himself a break before he did that. So why did he feel like all his emotions had run through him, then promptly left without leaving him anything to run on? Lance heard a vent pop above him. It startled him further awake, but not nearly enough to be conscious of much.

"What now?" He asked sleepily. It didn't really occur to him that maybe he should have stayed quiet; stay hidden in some corner and fall back asleep with no one the wiser. He was so vulnerable when he was barely processing his environment. Lance sat down on a nearby couch — somehow he made it to the lounge room. He moved around his blankets to fall on top of him, and watched on in the dim light as the mice did their circling routine on his lap. Each of them eventually fell into place, one on top of the other.

Lance could hear something behind him shift around. He tried to blink away the tiredness, maybe he should check what happened. But the mice just cuddled in closer, relaxed as ever. Well if the mice didn't think it was a threat, maybe it wasn't. Maybe a walk was a mistake, he was so ungodly tired and really needed to sleep. Lance began closing his eyes, one at a time like a frog. A yawn left his mouth as his eyelids closed over, covering the already dark room with another layer of black. If this soldier was now a part of the team, calling it the soldier wouldn't really work in the long run. Black Paladin? Eh just as bad. Lance decided sleepily he would come up with a new name for it.

*****

Lance jolted awake, the lights automatically pressing on at 5am. They didn't do it in his room so why did they- oh right he was in the lounge. One mouse sleepily grabbed a chunk of the blanket, tossing it over the rest of them to block out the light. Lance's head felt murky as he shifted around, but weirdly it felt too heavy in a certain spot. He looked further down at the mice in front of him, but the movement prompted something to fall off his head. It landed atop the blanket covered mice, causing them to squeak underneath and push until the object left. Lance blinked at his eyes, his vision was a little cloudy still after only just waking up. He rubbed at them until opening them felt possible once more. Lance squinted down at the object, now with working eyes he could tell it was the bandages he had given the soldier. The only difference now was that the roll looked a little smaller than before — maybe the soldier did use it. Lance shifted his head up, checking the room around him for any signs of life. It looked as though some furniture was misplaced or moved around. A couch cushion close to falling out and a doorway still left open, but no one else was present.

"Hello?" Lance called. The only response he got was a soft snoring from the largest mouse. Lance tried to rack his brain, remembering the night before. Oh that's right, he was figuring out a name for the soldier. And he decided on-

Kuron.