Chapter Text
A dull pain throbbed on the left side of Pidge's head. The tight helmet kept enough pressure on it so that it didn't interfere much, but it was still uncomfortable. She prayed that she wasn’t concussed or that there wasn't a visible wound - she had too much work to do and it couldn't be compromised. Not yet. Not now.
Green gave a low rumble, shifting Pidge out of her thoughts, prompting her to listen in to the comms.
"-Alright guys, great work out there today. That was a tough battle."
The black paladin's compliments were met with a cheerful whoop from Lance, and a smug snort from Keith, as well as an incredibly relieved sigh from Hunk.
"We'll do a quick survey of the area, just to make sure that we haven't missed anything. You all doing okay? Anyone injured?"
Met with reassuring murmurs from the team, Shiro leaned back in his seat.
"Right then-"
Hunk's voice suddenly chipped in across the comms, in a harsh whisper.
"Pidge, didn't you get hit?" He asked, his voice wavering slightly with anxiety.
"Hunk!" She exclaimed in defence, as the others started clamouring about Pidge's wellbeing, leaving her to respond with a irritated groan.
"Oh, whoops, sorry. That was meant to be on the private line..." Hunk muttered, trailing off as he read the tenseness of the situation, as well as Pidge's distinct irritation.
"Pidge, are you hurt?"
"Where'd you get hit?"
"Are you okay? Do you need to go into the pods?"
The other paladins shot questions at her so fast, it made her head spin. She shut her eyes tightly.
Quiznak - maybe it was a concussion.
"She got hit on the head by a rock when we were getting the civilians out." Hunk voluntarily gave away the information of Pidge's condition without any prompting, triggering another groan from Pidge, trying to get him to shut up.
"A rock?!" Lance sputtered out in shock, with clear concern for the younger paladin.
"Pidge, did you have your helmet on? Are you injured?" Shiro inquired, also with concern. Head injuries were nothing to sniff at, and Pidge wasn't one to readily give up information about her injuries. The others all remembered the broken ribs debacle.
"It was a pebble! Not a rock!" Pidge exclaimed indignantly. "And I was cleaning the dust of my visor-"
"You didn’t have your helmet on?" Lance squeaked out, shifting forward in his seat, practically yelling into his helmet. Keith gave a low whistle. He was concerned about the green paladin as well, but it was probably more enjoyable to make fun of mother hen Lance.
"Pidge, it was like, the size of a fist." Hunk supplied, in a matter of factly tone, as Shiro desperately tried to get a read on Pidge's vitals, praying that nothing was seriously wrong. She was awake - she was responding - surely she wasn't that badly injured?
"Whose fist? My fist or Pidge's fist? Cause her fist is like, microscopic." Lance asked, in a strangely serious tone, as Keith tried to surpress a snicker. Shiro desperately wanted to bombard Hunk with questions - what kind of rock? How'd she get hit? Was she bleeding? Was she okay? The space father needed to know the wellbeing of the paladins - he was basically responsible for the four teenagers after all.
"Your fist." Hunk answered.
"It was not!" Pidge shot back defensively.
"Yeah, you're right. It was more the size of MY fist." He responded, with a sprinkling of smugness to his voice.
Pidge was lost for words in her fury (and also her pain, funnily enough, anger didn't help it that much), as Lance gasped, and Shiro gritted his teeth.
"Right, we're going back to the castle."
Not giving anyone time to protest, he continued with an authoritative "Now."
The other lions slinked off back to the castle behind Shiro and the black lion, where Allura and Coran had been preparing the med bay and the mention of the word 'injured.'
As soon as they'd landed in the hangar, Green's mouth had already fallen open and the ramp had been formed, allowing the other paladins to rush over to Pidge as she gave the green lion a quick check over.
Upon seeing what Green had done, Pidge leaned back in her chair, shutting her eyes and covering her face with her hands, counting down the ticks until-
"Pidge!"
-That.
Allura rushed up to the green lion, Coran following suit. She knew how fragile humans could be, especially their heads and chests which housed their most important organs, which were not very well protected. She supposed that humans probably weren't built for these kinds of escapades, but pushed the thought out of her mind as the hangar doors opened and the other paladins ran in, still in full paladin armour.
Allura headed up the ramp into the cockpit, kneeling down next to Pidge. She looked frighteningly pale, and Allura tried to pull her hands away from her face only to be met with a low groan and a tug back.
"I'm fine." Pidge grumbled. Without the motion of green, everything felt strangely still, and the pain of her head injury was starting to rear it's ugly head. Instead of the dull throbbing that there had been before, it felt harsh and angry. The adrenaline was wearing off, and she really, really didn't want to open her eyes and face the bright lights.
"I'm going to take your helmet off, okay?" Allura murmured in a soothing tone. Pidge nodded slightly, then realised how much of an awful idea that was. She felt a presence behind her, and suddenly cool hands fell onto her shoulders. She guessed that was probably Shiro, and for a second she was lost in her thoughts, until she was rudely interrupted by her helmet being yanked off.
"Augh!" She exclaimed, bitterly, removing her hands from her face, and pressing them to the side of her head. Bad idea. The sudden contact stung immensely, and Pidge immediately removed her hands, whimpering slightly.
She looked down at them, only to see that they were coated in a red, sticky, substance. Oh, quiznak. Oh, quiznak she was bleeding. Quiznak, quiznak, quiznak.
A cool, damp cloth was placed on the wound. It stung, but it was also more comforting than anything else had been.
"Put your hand there." Allura commanded, and Pidge obliged, pressing her hand on the cloth. A bright light suddenly filled her vision and Pidge quickly squeezed her eyes shut and flinched. She was tired. And her head hurt.
"Too bright." She mumbled, backing away from the light.
"It's just Coran, he needs to check your eyes."
Shiro's hands squeezed her shoulders comfortingly.
"Too bright." She repeated again, this time opening her eyes slightly, her eyelids fluttering at the bright light as it shone in her left eye, then her right, then her left again.
"Bit wider, please." Pidge opened her eyes as wide as she could get them, her vision blurry, the moving light making her feel nauseous.
"What's your name?" The bright light asked. What a strange question to be asking her.
"What?"
"How old are you?"
"Is this really necessary?"
The bright light suddenly clicked off, and Pidge blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting. He vision settled and a very stressed older man with an orange mustache came into view.
"Please just answer the questions, number five."
Pidge nodded slowly, as the man backed away slightly, before rising to his feet. She felt so tired. Her mind felt foggy and her head throbbed.
"Which lion do you pilot?"
Pidge looked down at her hand, which was limply resting on her lap. It was still covered in that bright, sticky, coppery smelling substance the colour of which was:
"Uh, red?" She asked, uncertainly, as she heard someone inhale sharply behind her.
Truth be told, she was very unsure. Her mind seemed to be failing her and she didn't seem able to search through her memories like a database as she had before. She didn't really know what was going on. She was very confused at all of these people as she desperately tried to match names to faces.
"Pidge, please try to take this seriously. We just want to make sure that you don't have a concussion." The voice behind her was smooth, yet edged with anxiety and stress.
Pidge's heart almost seemed to skip a beat. Was that not right? Did she have a concussion? What was going on? She gave a shuddering inhale and exhale, as she desperately tried to collect her thoughts, grasp them back, as they seemed to keep falling through her fingers.
Her concentration was interrupted by a harshly whispered "Is she okay?" From a voice that she didn't recognise. Her neat database of information seemed to have been split into messy fragments which blurred into each other creating a bank of useless information.
A pressure was lifted from her shoulders, and another figure shifted into view - along with an air of familiarity that quickly seemed to fade. The figure crouched down in front of her, as Pidge struggled to keep her eyes focused on the form.
"Pidge, do you know who I am?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but the harder she thought, the more she forgot. Nothing seemed to make any sense and it was infuriating. Her head hurt, she was dizzy, and she was so tired and she was trying so goddamn hard to remember.
"Pidge?" The figure prompted again, waiting for an answer that Pidge couldn't give. Her mind was desperately trying to fill in the gaps but she was in a lot of pain and none of the questions made any sense.
She felt a pang in her chest.
She couldn't remember any of the questions.
"I - What?" She managed to stagger out, as blurred figures shifted in her peripheral vision.
"Do you remember who I am?"
"I -" She furrowed her brow, desperately trying to remember, but the motion hurt her head. Why did her head hurt? Why couldn't she answer any of her questions - let alone theirs?
Before she'd even decided to speak, her mouth was already open and spitting out the words that no one wanted to hear.
"No. I'm sorry. I - I don't think so." She mumbled softly, as she saw the figure look visibly taken aback. She heard a few murmurs from behind her, including a 'Quiznak' and a 'Dios mío'.
The figure looked up to another figure, who nodded. It was irritating how blurry her vision was. Using her free hand, she rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear her sight. Bringing her hand away, she saw that it was covered in red.
"We're going to take you to a pod, okay Pidge?"
She hardly registered that he'd spoken, instead holding out her hand to the figure.
"Is that my blood?" She asked, focusing hard on her hand, bringing it closer to her face.
"Yeah."
"Am I bleeding?"
"Yeah, you got hit on the head."
"I got hit on the head?!"
"Yes, we're about to take you to a healing pod."
"A healing pod? Am I hurt?"
"You got hit on the head."
"Oh. Am I bleeding?"
"Right - we're going to the pod now! Hunk, help me carry her."