Archive of Our Own

The base was dark and quiet as four shadows darted around corners and glided down corridors, the only light a soft deep purple streaking by as the four figures moved about the rooms. The smallest of the four paused at an intersection, a small knife clutched in one hand as the other signaled for its companions to pause. The figure peered around the bend and slowly unfurled from its crouch as it approached a closed door, which opened with the press of a gloved hand against a panel. The shadows darted through the door, locking it behind them before taking in the room.

The smallest again crouched by the closed door as the other three made their way to the central terminal in the middle of the room. It gripped its knife tightly, body tensed and coiled as it watched the door, its masked face occasionally glancing back toward its companions, watching as they worked around the terminal.

A soft, heartfelt “Quiznak!” from the figure crouched by the base of the terminal was the only warning before an explosion rocked the entire base and chunks of the ceiling rained down on the four figures.

*********

Lance tried his best to ignore the sweat dripping into his eyes as he pivoted out of the way of a kick. He grunted softly as he retaliated, a combination one-two punch and upper cut that was easily dodged by the gladiator. He dropped down into a crouch and swung a leg out, catching the gladiator off-guard as he swiped its feet from under it. The gladiator fell down gracelessly onto its back and Lance used his crouch to push himself forward and onto the machine even as he swung a hard right hook towards the robot’s face, the force of the impact jarring its face to the side. He rolled off the gladiator as metal arms came up to try and grab him around his middle and lightly stepped back a few feet, easily falling back into a defensive position as the gladiator slowly picked itself off the floor.

Lance took a deep breath, dark blue eyes carefully watching the figure across from him and wishing he were fighting something else, preferably a moody someone else. Hand-to-hand combat was by far his least favorite activity, but Lance was smart enough to know that he wouldn’t always be able to count on Shiro or Pidge to watch his back. He knew that, as much as he loved his rifle and sniper scope, there’d be times he’d be forced to fight his way out instead of shooting it.

Keith had taught him that during his brief stint as their leader. He’d run practices differently from Shiro, who had liked to focus their training on perfecting each of the Paladins’ expertise with their weapons. Keith had made it known, early on and in no uncertain terms, that he expected them to practice with their weapons on their own time, and that team practice was going to be focused on developing proficiencies in areas they’d have a harder time learning on their own. This meant long-range weapons practice for Pidge and Allura, close range weapons for Lance and Hunk, and hand-to-hand fighting for all of them.

Lance had to admit that it had been a brilliant idea. Their bayards automatically transformed into the weapons they were most comfortable with, but their comfort weapons might not be the best choice for a given situation. Keith had proven his point during their first session when Lance had loudly complained that he didn’t need to learn close-range combat because he was “the sharpshooter.” Before Lance could even grab hold of his bayard, Keith had charged at him so fast that Lance had barely had time to put his arms up to block the punch aimed at his face. He’d stumbled a couple steps back from the force of the hit and just had time to grab his bayard before Keith was back in his face, his body too close for Lance to be able to bring up his rifle for a proper shot, and his hands a flurry of punches and hooks that kept Lance off balance just enough that he couldn’t properly retaliate. To no one’s surprise, Lance had ended up pinned to the floor with Keith’s Marmora blade at his throat.

After that, Lance had, for once, kept his mouth shut and let Keith teach them the basics of hand-to-hand combat.

Now, with Keith gone and Shiro back at the helm, practices were once again focused on teamwork and their bayards, but that first lesson with Keith had stuck with Lance. So now, here he was, willingly spending his time on the training deck practicing hand-to-hand combat by himself because damn that asshole for being right about this. They did need to be able to fight with any and every weapons available to them, and that included their bodies.

Growling softly as he watched the gladiator preparing for the next round, Lance was just about to launch himself at it when he felt a strange feeling come over him, stopping him in his tracks and utterly distracting him from what he was doing. Without meaning to, he dropped his guard and was taken completely by surprise when a metal hand landed a punch to his face, knocking him down and across the training deck.

“End simulation!” he cried as he landed on his side. “Ow, fuck,” he grunted as he watched the gladiator shut off and disappear beneath the floor. He gingerly touched his cheek with his gloved hand and winced at the sharp pain that elicited. “Great,” he grumbled as he flopped onto his back, “I’ll probably have a black eye tomorrow.”

He groaned and dramatically flung his arms wide open. He stared at the ceiling, wondering at the strange feeling that had come over him, when he felt it again. Now that he wasn’t busy not getting his ass kicked, Lance recognized that it was Red; a buzzing at the back of his mind, like a single bee fleeting around his brain and trying to get his attention.

Lance frowned. Red was like Keith. Unlike Blue, who had been a constant presence at the back of his mind since the start, nudging and purring at him, Red was like a shadow, a silent presence watching over him. The only times he had ever truly felt her communicating were when Keith was around. Then, the presence in his mind exploded, a hint of anxiousness and sadness mixing with an overwhelming feeling of deep contentment. Not that he could blame her; Lance tended to feel the same way whenever the “ex” Red Paladin was around.

But this buzzing was different. Red was clearly agitated, and she wanted to go-go-go. What at first had felt like a single bee buzzing about his head was slowly growing into a whole swarm, leaving him feeling anxious and restless. And beneath that feeling Lance could very clearly and distinctly pick up one single word: Keith-Keith-Keith.

Closing his eyes, Lance concentrated on the feeling. What’s wrong?

Keith. Go. Now.

Lance tried to think back to his last conversation with Keith. They’d talked for a little over one varga, which was actually a pretty short conversation for them. Keith had made fun of his hair, teasing him about how long it was getting, and Lance had accused him of being jealous because clearly he would be able to pull off a mullet better than Keith. And right before they’d hung up, Keith had told him not to expect a call for at least a couple of quintants because he was going on a mission.

Lance inhaled sharply as he scrambled back up.

A mission.

And Red was increasingly freaking out in the back of his mind.

Shit.

*********

Consciousness came in bits and pieces. At first, there was nothing, just a sense of being, of existing. Then, there was a ringing in his ears that grew until it morphed into a pounding, throbbing headache. Keith groaned as the pain escalated, and the movement of air through his lungs caught in his throat, forcing a series of painful coughs that rocked his body. That action was the last straw because suddenly a cacophony of sensations assaulted him before being drowned out by the feeling of cold sweat and light headedness as everything went dark again.

The next time consciousness crept in, Keith held as still as possible, breaths deliberately timed to counter the fiery pain in his screaming nerves, as he forced himself to relax until the worst of it had passed. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times at the prevailing darkness before him, waiting until his eyesight adjusted and he was able to make out slivers of light filtering through what appeared to be cracks.

My mask, he thought groggily.

Carefully, he twitched the fingers of his right hand, rotated his wrist, and tensed his entire arm a couple of times. Once he was relatively sure he’d be able to move it without igniting an inferno of pain, Keith gently lifted his right hand toward his face and touched his mask, feeling the fractures along it. He tried to deactivate it but stopped when that only ratcheted up his headache. If the mask wouldn’t deactivate, that meant his suit was dead. And if that was the case, it meant he didn’t have any communications.

Triage, he thought as he pried the pieces of the useless mask off his face. He needed to figure out where he was hurt and how badly, and then he needed to find some means of communications. And find the other Blades that had been with him.

If they were even still alive.

Keith grunted and pushed that thought away. One thing at a time. He closed his eyes as he removed the last of the mask from his face and slowly blinked them open again, giving them time to adjust. There was the soft purple light of a Marmora suit coming from a few feet from him, which meant that at least one of his teammates was nearby and had a functioning suit. But there was no other sound other than his ragged breathing and the occasional noise of shifting debris, so whoever it was, was still (hopefully) unconscious.

He gently touched his face, feeling the bruises around his eyes and sucked in a deep, sharp breath when he touched the side of his head. He quickly pulled his fingers away, and he couldn’t be sure in the dark, but he thought there was something glistening on his fingertips.

Blood? Keith closed his eyes for a second and concentrated on the pulsating throb in his head and sighed tiredly. Head wound. Likely concussed, then. Which would also explain the low level nausea and dizziness. Awesome.

Deciding to give his eyes a break, he left them closed as he wiggled his toes next and groaned when a sharp pain radiated from his right side. Leaving any further exploration of his right leg for later, he then slowly tensed his left calf, his thigh, and his butt, cataloguing the pain as nothing worse than some bruises; at least it looked like the suit had protected most of him. Next, he moved on to his left arm and sighed in relief when nothing worse than twinge in his left shoulder made itself known. With both arms relatively unscathed, he patted himself down, feeling his chest plate and tracing the new scuffs and fractures along it. He catalogued nothing worse than some possibly bruised ribs as he felt his way down his body, which was relatively intact until he reached his right hip. He grunted in surprise as he let his hand roam around what seemed to be a large piece of debris pinning him down. Slowly, he brought his arms back and pushed himself up onto his elbows, panting slightly from the increased pressure on his ribs.

“Aw, quiznak,” he breathed out as he saw the extent of his predicament.

A slab of metal was pinning him down from his hip to his knee all along his right side. Now that he was moving, Keith could feel jagged edges of metal imbedded in his leg and hear the sickening squelch of liquid every time he moved around. He was definitely bleeding, but as long as he didn’t move too much, the same metal pieces piercing him would probably keep most of his blood inside of him. This meant that parts two and three of his plan had just gotten infinitely harder to accomplish.

*********

Lance skidded into the control room, startling Shiro and Allura who had been looking at a map of their allies in another quadrant of the galaxy they were currently in. Both of them looked over their shoulders and raised identical eyebrows as he leaned forward, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. In the back his mind he could still feel Red insistently nudging at him, demanding that he come to her so they could go get her errant Paladin. Lance forcefully pushed her mental pawing aside and looked up at his teammates.

“Have you heard from Keith or Kolivan recently?” he gasped out as he finally managed to catch his breath.

Shiro shook his head. “I’m not expecting any communication from either of them.” He looked at Allura questioningly but she shook her head.

“Call Kolivan,” Lance demanded. Both Shiro and Allura stared at him in surprise, neither moving nor saying anything in response. Lance gritted his teeth as Red whined. “Call Kolivan, now.”

“Lance,” Shiro admonished him even as Allura blurted out a startled “What?”

“There’s something wrong with Keith. Call him!” Lance practically begged, Red’s worry bleeding into him and burning him like poison.

“How do you—”

“Red is freaking out! Call. Kolivan.” Lance finally yelled, his hands trembling and heart beating to the tempo of Red’s panic.

Lance watched impatiently as Shiro immediately turned toward the control panel and engaged the frequency to the Blade. Allura stood beside him, staring at Lance with wide, frightened eyes, lips pressed together into a thin, worried line. Lance could read every one of her questions in her eyes, but ignored them all in favor of staring at the screen, willing it to come to life. It flickered once and then suddenly Kolivan stood before them, his mask off and his face impassive.

“Paladins,” he nodded in greeting.

“Where’s Keith?” Lance asked, earning him a raised eyebrow from the Galra and a quiet “Lance!” from Shiro.

“Keith is on a mission,” Kolivan answered.

Lance growled. “Yes, I know he’s on a mission,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “I want to know where.”

“That information is classified.”

“He’s in danger,” Lance said, watching in satisfaction as Kolivan tensed at his words.

“Explain,” he demanded.

“Red is freaking out,” Lance replied, hands balling at his side even as he tried to push Red’s presence to a corner of his mind.

“Red…” Kolivan murmured before narrowing his eyes. “The Red Lion is agitated?”

Lance nodded. “She and Keith still share a link.”

Lance saw Shiro turn toward him at that, both eyebrows raised questioningly, and he could feel Allura’s stare boring into him. He knew what she was wondering, and the answer was yes. He and Blue also still shared a link, and he could sometimes feel her in the back of his mind, checking up on him, making sure he was all right. But it was nothing compared to how Red was when Keith was around. He wasn’t sure if it was because Keith was gone so much of the time, or because she and Keith just had a deeper bond, or even if it was because Red was just that much of worry-wart and overprotective mama-Lion, but her link to Keith was like a beacon in the dark. It was bright and blinding, and absolutely impossible to ignore. And somehow, she always knew when the other teen was nearby, when he was coming home, or when he was in trouble.

And the last time she’d broadcasted her worry this strongly...

“Something’s wrong,” Lance explained. “I don’t know what, but she hasn’t been this agitated since…” he bit his lip, wondering if he should let that secret out of the bag. He could feel their stares boring into him and he decided he’d better just rip that band-aid right off. “Since Naxzela.”

Shiro frowned in confusion. “Naxzela?”

Lance clenched his fists and looked down at the ground, grunting an affirmative. “After we got off the planet, when we were trying to outrun the explosion and get to Haggar’s ship…Red…I think she knew what Keith was planning to do. I didn’t…” he paused then, trying to gather his thoughts. “She was screaming in my mind, howling. But I didn’t understand...”

Lance dared to glance up and wished he hadn’t. Three pair of eyes stared at him in horror, the implication of what he was saying slowly sinking in. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn’t like thinking about that day, but the way Red was feeling now, it was so similar to how she’d felt then. Fear, grief, and an overwhelming need to get to Keith.

“I didn’t understand what it was she was trying to tell me until we… Until after Keith…” He couldn’t say it out loud.

“And Red is…” Allura started but her voice cracked at the words and she stopped, a shaky breath filling the otherwise silent room. “She’s acting the same way now?”

Lance nodded frantically and looked up then. “We need to get to Keith. Now.” He turned back to the screen, watching as Kolivan straightened minutely and nodded. “Where is he?”

*********

“Think, Keith,” he whispered, desperately hoping that the sound of his voice would help him focus. Definitely concussed, he thought groggily.

No, he had to concentrate. He needed to get to any one of the other three Blades that had come with him, and he needed to check whether their communication was working. There was very little chance that he’d be able to get out of there by himself, so his best bet was to try and contact Kolivan and ask for an extraction. There was no such thing as a missed check-in during a Blade mission. If headquarters didn’t hear from the team, then it was presumed lost. There would be no rescue mission unless he requested one. And to do that, he needed communications.

Patience yields focus. Work the problem.

Problem number one: He was pinned down by a heavy metal slab that had pierced through his suit and skin. Problem number two: He had sustained damage due to said piercing and was currently bleeding an unknown amount. Problem number three: The heavy metal slab that was currently pinning him and making him bleed was also the only thing preventing him from bleeding out. So all he had to do was… lift a metal slab crushing him with little to no leverage and then, provided he somehow didn’t pass out from the pain, apply first aid on himself with his non-existent medical supplies before he bled to death.

Keith groaned and fought the desire to bang his head back against the floor. He already had a concussion, no need to make it worse.

I’m going to be having words with Kolivan about packing first-aid kits to missions.

An unexpected groan in the otherwise silent room startled him and made him sit up without thinking. A pained cry was torn from his lips at the sudden movement, and he collapsed back down, his right hand curling around the slab pinning him down. He felt his body shuddering and cold sweat breaking across his forehead as bile rose up his throat and his vision greyed out around the edges. For a few, interminable seconds, there was nothing but the loud sound of buzzing in his ears and the feel of his breaths stuttering through his chest. Slowly, as the pain bled away and the world came back into focus, he could hear a sound, like a voice, calling his name. He blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?) and watched as the ceiling slowly came back into focus above him.

“Keith.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, refusing to move for fear of igniting the pain. Carefully, he turned his head to the left and watched as the shadows moved, the noise of metal against metal ratcheting his headache as pieces debris groaned and ground against each other. A large, gloved hand materialized from the shadows and gripped one of the larger pieces of metal, pushing it aside. Keith watched as the large form of a Galra limped toward him and couldn’t help the relieved smile that slowly pulled at his lips.

“Sorven,” he murmured.

“That looks uncomfortable,” the Galra said, and Keith couldn’t help the soft huff of air that escaped his lips.

“That is an understatement,” he groaned, closing his eyes and tightening his grip against the metal resting on him. “I can’t–”

“How badly?”

“Bad. It… It pierced the suit.”

Sorven crouched down next to his head and Keith was finally able to see him properly for the first time. His right shoulder guard was missing, the armor broken off in a jagged pattern. The shoulder itself looked wrong somehow, the arm hanging limply by his side. The chest plate was also scratched with chinks all over it, and his undersuit was ripped in several places, purple blood welling up and matting up the visible fur.

A large hand snuck under the metal slab and Keith gasped as clawed fingertips felt around his hip and thigh. Sorven frowned as he pulled his hand back and looked at the fresh, reddish liquid staining his claws.

“It pierced more than just the suit,” he said, voice grave.

Keith let out a soft chuckle. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Sherlock?” the Galra said, clearly alarmed. A large paw rested on his cheek and turned his head to the side, Marmora mask uncomfortably close to his face. “How grievous is your head injury?”

“What?” Keith blinked, startled by the gesture. “No, no. It’s a… It’s an old Earth saying. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” Sorven said as he ran his hand across Keith’s head, somehow finding every bump and bruise.

“No, I’m not. Do you have communications?”

Sorven gave one singe nod as his mask dissolved and Keith was finally looking at his dark yellow eyes and pale face instead of an impassive mask. “I have set it to broadcast a distress signal.”

Keith nodded and closed his eyes. Now that there was someone else with him he could feel his adrenaline fading, and with it any energy he’d had left to keep his eyes open. A sharp squeeze around his chin had him fluttering his eyelids open again, and Sorven looked at him disapprovingly.

“You must remain awake.”

“Tired,” he slurred, Sorven wavering in and out of focus in front of him. “Crashing.”

Sorven made a soft sound of confusion even as he gently patted Keith’s cheek to get his attention. “How can you be crashing when you are not flying?”

Keith huffed out a small breath, a grin on his lips for a second before he groaned and instinctively tried to curl around the pain radiating through his lower body. “Oh God,” he whimpered softly as the pain increased with his movement. He could feel hands on him, pushing him down and holding him still, and a voice speaking quietly in his ear.

The world went fuzzy around him for what seemed like a second before the fog in his mind slowly lifted. He blinked up at the darken ceiling and was proud (and relieved) that he knew immediately where he was and what had happened. The pain in his side throbbed dully, his vision was blurry around the edges, and his head felt like an ice pick was slowly driving into it. But there was a heavy hand on his shoulder and a presence by his side keeping him grounded. He let his head fall to the side and watched Sorven rummaging through a pouch, clearly looking for something.

“Hm,” he grunted to get his attention and was rewarded when feline features turned toward him and a small smile broke across his face.

“Keith,” he whispered, relief draining the tension from his shoulders as he turned more fully to face him. “I am glad to see you awake.”

“How long?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“A couple vargas.”

Keith frowned; he hadn’t thought he’d lost that much time. Slowly, he looked down and raised an eyebrow at the fact that he was still clearly pinned to the ground by the metal slab. “Why…?”

“Without knowing the full extent of your injuries and without proper medical equipment with me to treat you, removing the slab would be dangerous,” Sorven replied, clearly frustrated. “You could bleed out before help arrives. While keeping the slab where it is may not be… ideal, it will keep you alive.”

“Oh,” Keith replied. “That makes sense.” He looked back up at the ceiling and sighed. “This sucks.”

Sorven made a noise of agreement but did not comment.

There was nothing to do but wait now.

*********

Once things had been explained to him, Kolivan had wasted no time providing Keith’s coordinates and his mission’s parameters to the other Paladins. Before long, Allura had adjusted their course and they were flying as fast as possible to Keith’s last known location. Kolivan and Shiro had also decided to send a Blade team to scout ahead to assess whether they would be walking into a trap and, if not, to try and find Keith and the other Blades that had been with him. They would report their findings to both Kolivan and the Paladins, and hopefully by then the Castle would be close enough for the Paladins to fly out with their Lions and rendez-vous with the Blade team.

Lance watched from his seat in the control room as Allura, Shiro, and Kolivan strategized, but he was only paying half a mind to what they were saying. Instead, he was focused on Red who had calmed considerably now that something was being done to find her missing Paladin. But even so, Lance could still feel her need to move, to search, and he sent out comforting and calming thoughts in the hopes it would be enough to assuage her and keep her where she was until they were ready to head out.

“Lance,” Shiro’s called, his voice breaking him out of his reverie. “Could you let the others know what’s going on?”

Oh. Right. Everything had happened so quickly that Lance had forgotted that Hunk and Pidge had no idea what was going on. It was likely that Pidge had already noticed that they’d changed course, but who knew whether Hunk was paying attention to what the ship was doing and where they were heading. And even so, they would both want to know that something was wrong with Keith.

Lance nodded and pushed himself to his feet, slowly making his way out of the control room and towards the common areas. He made his way to the kitchen first, figuring he had a pretty good chance of finding Hunk concocting another recipe from the fruits and vegetables they had picked up on their last hospitable planet. As he neared his destination, Lance couldn’t help the small grin as he heard Hunk singing what sounded like a Frank Sinatra song. That guy was so ancient when it came to his tastes in music, but Lance couldn’t deny that he had the voice to carry the tune.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen and paused by the door as he watched Hunk mixing ingredients into a bowl while Pidge tried to pilfer some left over fruits from the counter. Without warning, Hunk’s spatula smacked Pidge’s hand and she hissed at him as she snatched it away from him. The scene was so reminiscent of the night they had found Shiro, when Pidge had smacked Hunk’s hands away from her tech, that Lance couldn’t help the burst of laughter. Both occupants started at the noise and turned in his direction as he made his way toward them and leaned against the counter, reaching over lightning-fast and popping a piece of fruit in his mouth before Hunk could smack his own hand away.

“Hey!” Pidge whined, and Lance grinned at her obnoxiously.

“Gotta be fast, Gremlin. Ouch!” he yelped as a hand smacked him in the back of his head. “Hunk!” he cried, feigning hurt as he rubbed his head.

“Paws off the food!” Hunk ordered as he continued to mix his ingredients.

“Fine,” Lance glared at him and crossed his arms. A small nudge at the back if his mind had him sobering up and clearing his throat to get his friends’ attention. “Hey, guys…?”

“Are you here to tell us why we’ve changed course?” Pidge asked, her eyes once again darting between Hunk and the discarded pieces of fruits on the counter.

Lance pressed his lips together and let out a loud breath through his nose, nodding his head.

“It’s Keith, isn’t it?” Pidge asked, her voice wavering. Lance glanced up, surprised. “What else could it be? We change course without any warning and then you come in here looking like the Galra killed your cat.”

Lance paled visibly.

“Pidge,” Hunk said softly as he gently put his bowl down.

“Sorry,” she chocked. “Bad choice of words.”

“What happened?” Hunk asked, and even without looking at him Lance could tell he was shaking with suppressed fear and anxiety.

“Red…” Lance started but wasn’t sure how to continue, how to explain.

“Is she why Green has been whining in the back of my head for the past few vargas?” Pidge asked, perking up as she always did whenever it came to the Lions and how they interacted with each other and the Paladins.

Lance blinked at her dumbly. “Green’s been whining?”

“Yellow’s been out of sorts too. I figured she was… I don’t know… Hungry or something.”

“The Lions don’t eat Hunk. I’ve told you this already,” Pidge said, exasperated.

“They run on quintessence. We don’t know how much they need to operate or whether it needs to be replenished! I mean, remember that one time Zarkon drained all of Voltron’s quintessence and we were left out to drift in the middle of space?”

“How could I forget?” Pidge grumbled.

“Guys,” Lance interrupted them before they could really get started.

“Right, sorry Lance. Totally besides the point,” Hunk apologized, looking chastised.

“Red started freaking out while I was training. She was roaring in my head, and she sounded so…” Lance paused and did his best to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “And I remembered that Keith was on a mission.”

“Shit,” Pidge murmured. “When did you talk to him?”

“A couple quintants ago. He told me he might be off the grid for a while. So I convinced Shiro and Allura to call Kolivan, and once I convinced him…”

“He gave us Keith’s mission coordinates. Okay, great. How soon until we get there?” Pidge asked.

“I…” Lance closed his mouth with a click of his teeth.

“Hunk, could you–”

“Yep, be right back,” Hunk replied even as he walked around the counter and ran out of the room, presumably to the control room.

“How did I not…”

“Hey. It’s fine,” Pidge assured him as she finally grabbed some of the fruit on the counter and popped it in her mouth. She placed a hand on his forearm and he closed his eyes tightly, head tilting forward as if the weight of the universe was suddenly resting on his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. Your boyfriend’s missing, definitely in trouble, most likely injured. No one can blame you for forgetting to ask Allura or Shiro how long until we get there.” She chuckled lightly. “I’m actually surprised you even had the presence of mind to come find us instead of just wandering over to Red.”

“Shiro told me to come tell you,” Lance admitted.

“Ah. That does explain a lot,” Pidge grinned conspiratorially, and Lance couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Ten vargas,” Hunk panted as he ran back into the room.

“How are you out of breath?” Pidge demanded. “The control room is not even that far from here and I know for a fact you train every day!”

“My cardiopulmonary capacity leaves much to be desired, Pidge!” Hunk yelled back; or at least tried to between gasping breaths.

“We have got to start doing more cardio around here. What if we have to run for our lives?” Pidge asked, throwing her hands up in the air for emphasis.

“Then I’ll haul ass because I’ll have great motivation to keep moving,” Hunk snarked back.

“Ten vargas?” Lance asked, looking at Hunk with an expression so lost that Hunk and Pidge immediately stopped bickering.

Hunk nodded.

“I’ll go prep a med kit,” Pidge said and left the room before either of the boys could say anything.

“I’m…”

“Get some rest Lance,” Hunk told him, one large hand coming down to his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

Lance nodded and forced a smile on his lips. He knew that Hunk could tell that it was fake, but sometimes you had to fake it ‘till you made it.

*********

“Tell me about Lance,” Sorven asked as Keith blinked heavy eyelids open.

“What?”

“Tell me about the Blue Paladin,” Sorven repeated as a large paw rested on Keith’s neck, two fingers pressing on his pulse point.

Keith tried to gather his thoughts at the question but couldn’t seem to shake the sense of lethargy that had settled over his body the last few vargas. Since the compound had exploded and trapped them beneath the rubble, he had passed out at least four times (including the initial loss of consciousness from the explosion), and each successive time it became harder to concentrate.

He knew Altec and Lamor were dead, but Sorven refused to tell him how they had died. He knew Sorven had fashioned some make-shift bandages and had somehow cleaned his head wound and his other scrapes, but he wouldn’t tell him how much blood he had lost. He knew Sorven was also injured, but the Galra wouldn’t tell him how badly. He knew that he was hungry, and thirsty, and sleepy, but that they had no food, no water, and that he should be trying harder to stay awake.

But it was so hard.

A soft hand pushed his bangs back from his forehead and his wandering eyes snapped back to focus on Sorven’s face. He looked worried, and Keith tried to smile reassuringly at him.

“Lance is an idiot,” he croaked. Sorven raised an eyebrow. “He makes stupid jokes that are totally inappropriate and he still goes on about the stupid rivalry that he made up between us. And don’t even get me started on his singing.”

“His singing?”

“He likes to sing. And he does it all the time. He has no shame,” Keith hissed. “And you know the worst part?” He licked dry lips as Sorven shook his head. “He is so good at it.”

“But… if he sings all the time, isn’t it a good thing that he’s good?”

“No,” Keith said emphatically.

“I do not understand.”

“He doesn’t even realize how good he is,” Keith continued as if Sorven hadn’t said anything. “He’ll sing everywhere and in front of anyone. And everyone within hearing range will just… Stop and stare at him. It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve heard him sing before, whoever is in the room will always, without fail, stop to listen to him, even if for just a few seconds.”

“I still do not–”

“And if it’s a stranger, they’ll ogle him. And,” Keith whined, steamrolling over anything Sorven might have wanted to say as he opened his mouth to interrupt, “if he’s singing in Spanish, those goddamn floozies will be trying to undress him with their eyes. ”

Sorven was beginning to think he shouldn’t have said anything. Clearly this was something their smaller Blade member had been stewing over for a long time and he had obviously hit a nerve with his question. But he had never had the chance to speak to Keith one-on-one before, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. His relationship with the Blue Paladin had been the topic of the base gossip mill for a several weeks now. As soon as Keith had returned (been allowed back to base) from his extended (mandatory) vacation (enforced time off) after the Naxzela mission (fiasco), everyone had known the reclusive half-Galra was in a relationship. There had been a lingering smell of not-Keith that had clung to him for several days after his return, and sometimes late at night he would be in front of the bay windows staring out at the stars in a green jacket that was clearly too big to be his.

Listening to him now, Sorven couldn’t help the mental grin even as he kept his face as stoic and emotionless as possible. Keith’s Galra side was clearly very much present in his relationship with the Blue Paladin, and Sorven wondered if Keith even realized how jealous and overbearing he was being because of his heritage. The need to shield and protect a mate was an ingrained, inescapable aspect of all Galran relationships, and one that was often shrugged off and expected amongst the Galra. This was especially true of new relationships and between unbonded pairs. The fact that Keith was even tolerating being apart from the Blue Paladin only spoke of the strength of his human half.

Instead of voicing any of this, Sorven asked the more obvious question. “Spanish?”

Keith hummed. “It’s a language on Earth.”

“You have different languages on Terra?” Sorven asked, intrigued. He had heard of some planets that had more than one spoken language, but it was rare. The Galran Empire tended to decimate so many civilizations and cultures, that a planet’s inhabitants usually had no other choice but to either speak or develop one dialect in order to survive.

“God, we have so many languages,” Keith groaned.

“Do any of the other Paladins speak another language?”

“Shiro speaks Japanese. Hunk might speak Samoan, and Pidge might speak some Italian?” He paused for a moment, head turning so he could look at Sorven, a conspiratorial grin stretching over his lips. “And, don’t tell Lance this, but I can speak some Spanish too.” He winked.

Sorven raised an eyebrow at this. “This is a secret?”

“Yes,” Keith hissed, eyes narrowing but grin still firmly in place. “I mean, it’s not my fault they all keep forgetting I grew up in fucking Texas, which is basically a mini-Mexico and has both English and Spanish as its official state language. Not to mention I was in the system.”

“I do not understand.”

“Everyone spoke Spanish in the orphanages and foster system. I mean, half the kids were Hispanic and the caretakers were way too much into telenovelas and forced all of us to watch them when it was television time. It would have been a bigger miracle if I hadn’t picked up any Spanish.” Keith shrugged then. “I mean, it’s more Spanglish than actual Spanish, and half my vocabulary is curse words, but I’m not actually as clueless as I pretend to be whenever he starts speaking in Spanish.”

“Then why do you pretend at all?”

“Because it’s fun.” Keith paused for a second and then shrugged. But, when he spoke again, his voice was barely above a faint whisper and his cheeks were rosy pink. “And if he knew that I understood him he might stop calling me all these cute, endearing nicknames that he keeps pretending are curse words. And then I’d have to tell him that I like it when he calls me these things, and then we’d get emotions all over us.”

“Ah,” Sorven replied, watching as Keith’s pale cheeks seemed to regain a bit of color before it drained away again.

Keith sighed softly then and closed his eyes again, but Sorven stayed quiet, reassured by the constant and consistent beat beneath his clawtips.

“Hey, Sorven?” Keith whispered tentatively.

“Yes?”

“Do you think someone will find us?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think…”

“Yes.”

Keith scoffed. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Lance will be here.”

A pause.

“Okay.”

Sorven pressed his clawtips a little more firmly into the soft flesh beneath them.

*****

Lance was trying not to freak out, he really was, but between his anxiety and Red’s, it was proving to be a nigh impossible task. The chatter on the comms between the Paladins, Kolivan, and Coran was reassuring and it helped him focus and avoid colliding against Allura who was flying right next to him. Unfortunately, it did nothing to quiet down the growing knot of fear forming in his chest.

“We picked up a faint distress signal coming from the far side of the planet,” Kolivan said through the view screen.

“Do you have the coordinates?”

“It is… difficult to pinpoint,” he continued hesitantly. “We have a general location but not the precise coordinates. Something appears to be blocking it.”

Lance bit his lips and pushed back the whine forming in the back of his throat. Red’s overwhelming need and worry for Keith was getting harder to ignore, and while he knew that he shouldn’t go off on his own, he trusted her with this. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shiro,” he interrupted, voice as steady as he could make it. “Red can probably find him.”

There was a beat of silence as Shiro stared at him intently through the view screen before he nodded solemnly. “You’re right. Let her lead the way.”

Lance gave one jerky nod and let go of the controls. As soon as he did, Red roared with all her might and took off at full speed through the clear purple sky of the planet. He watched as the other Lions were left in their (figurative) dust and almost jerked her back if only so they wouldn’t be charging in without any backup. But he couldn’t really find it in him to care too much. He knew they’d both annihilate anyone and anything that came between them and their missing Paladin.

They flew for a good fifteen to twenty minutes before Red slowed down and stopped in midair, her head swiveling back and forth, clearly searching for something. Lance stayed quiet, hands hovering over the controls, watching as the other Lions slowly caught up to them. Red darted to left toward an outcropping of trees and jerked to a stop, Lance nearly crashing into the controls from the momentum. An overhead display flickered to life and on it he could see two life signs directly below him. He looked out at the scene before him: a forest, and in the middle of it what had clearly been a base now reduced to rubble.

“Shit,” he breathed out, heartbeat kicking up several notches as the implication of what he was seeing slowly sank in.

“Lance?” Shiro’s voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“This is… Shiro, I’m picking up two life signs, but…”

“Lance?” Pidge asked worriedly.

“We’re going to have to dig them out.”

A moment of silence and then, “How bad is it?”

Lance put up the schematics with the blinking life signs and the view in front of him onto the shared view screen. “Bad, Shiro,” he answered. “It looks like this was a pretty big base.”

Hunk leaned forward to take a better look at the images, his face filling up half of the view screen. “It looks like it imploded. I’m guessing self-sabotage with some pretty impressive explosives brought that down. It’s a small miracle anyone survived.”

“How unstable is the structure? Can the Lions help clear the debris?”

“I don’t know...” Hunk mumbled. “If we hover over the wreckage and carefully pull out certain pieces without compromising the structural integrity of the wreckage, we might able to clear enough of a gap to get in there and search by foot.”

“We’ll need to be really careful,” Pidge chimed in. “It might be a good idea to pull out the pieces with rope or some sort of pulley system. We can use the Blue Lion’s sonar sensor to try and map out the underlying structure and figure out exactly where they are and which pieces to grab.”

Lance bit his lip as he listened to them talking. He understood what they were saying on a theoretical level, but, once again, there was nothing he could do to actually contribute to the discussion. He could feel his self-doubt and insecurities creeping up again and tried to push them back down. It wasn’t because he couldn’t contribute anything right now that he was useless. Blue had chosen him. Red had chosen him.

Keith had chosen him.

A blinking icon on Red’s view screen snapped him back to reality, and with a mental push, he stowed away his insecurities. Now wasn’t the time for them. He had a job to do and a Keith to find. He pushed the icon and froze at the sound coming through it.

Humming.

Keith’s humming.

There was a song Keith liked to hum whenever he was stressed out and thought he was alone. It was a slow sort of tune, and it reminded Lance of a lullaby. There were parts that almost felt hopeful, but overall it was a melancholic song.

The first time Lance had heard it, Keith had been in his hangar cleaning Red after a particularly vicious fight against the Galra. He’d been so focused on the scorch marks on Red’s front paws that he hadn’t heard Lance walking in and making his way to him. But as he’d gotten closer, Lance had paused as he heard the soft tune. It hadn’t been that long since all five of them had been thrust into this previously unknown war, and tensions had still been running high between the Paladins.

Well, if Lance was really honest with himself, tensions had mainly been running high between Keith and him. It hadn’t been entirely Lance’s fault as Keith was a stuck up know-it-all with no sense of humor and a stick shoved up his ass. But while he’d meant to make his way to Keith with the intention of relaying Hunk’s message to come to dinner, instead he’d felt rooted to the spot. Listening to Keith humming this tune under his breath had felt like an intrusion, like he was listening to something private. Keith had been smiling softly, body relaxed even as his hands worked furiously at the scorch marks. It was the first time that Lance had seen Keith looking anything other than scowling, angry, or annoyed, and he hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment.

So he’d done what any halfway decent person would have done and slowly walked away. He’d just save Keith a plate for later.

After that, Lance had noticed the humming more often. He wasn’t sure if it was something that had always been there and he’d just never paid attention, or if it was something new. But he was paying attention now. He’d heard Keith once late at night when he’d walked in on him getting some water from the kitchen, and another time when he’d wandered into the observation deck and seen Keith sitting by the bay windows staring at the stars. Once he even thought he’d heard it while they were in their Lions patrolling the outskirts of a solar system.

When Shiro had disappeared, Lance had wandered the Castle one night, restless, and he’d stopped in his tracks just outside the lounge when he’d heard the tune coming from within the room. He’d hesitated for a moment, not sure if his presence would be welcomed, but when a soft hiccup and a sharp inhale broke the rhythm of the song, Lance made up his mind. He had marched in there like a man on a mission, but had paused by the doorway when he’d seen Keith wedged into a corner of the room, knees pulled up into his chest, arms resting on his knees, and head hidden between his arms. He was rocking back and forth slowly, his humming the only sound in the room other than the occasional soft hiccups and aborted sobs.

Without thinking about it, Lance had stridden forward and sat down by him, his arms coming up to pull Keith to him. He had felt the other teen tense up and fall silent, but Lance had only tightened his hold. Slowly, the body within his arms had relaxed and Keith had leaned further into the embrace. Lance had gently pulled Keith closer to him, manhandling him to sit between his legs so Lance could comfortably hug him from behind and let him relax against his chest. Once Lance had been satisfied with their new position, he had slowly rocked them back and forth and started humming the tune he’d been hearing for the past several months.

Keith had tensed up immediately and pulled back an inch, just enough so that they were no longer touching from head to torso, but not enough to break the embrace.

“What…?” Keith had rasped, a strange mix of confusion, hope, and something else Lance hadn’t been able to put his fingers on.

“Shh,” he’d whispered, one hand coming up to card through Keith’s hair and gently pull him back to Lance’s chest. “It’s just your song.”

“But how do you…”

“You hum it a lot, you know?” Lance had replied, a soft smile playing on his lips as he’d looked down at Keith’s bewildered expression.

“I do?” Keith had asked, frowning, even as he’d let Lance pull him back down.

“Hmm. I guess it’s unconscious. It’s pretty.”

Keith had blinked at that, baffled. And as Lance had resumed humming his song, his long fingers carding through his hair, Keith had held his breath against the tears that had welled up in his eyes once more. He’d tried to stop the hitch in his breath, but a tightening of the arms around him told him that he wasn’t fooling anyone, and when he’d felt lips brushing against his hair, he’d finally let go. He’d let his sorrow and his fears roll down his cheeks and let the rhythm of his music soothe the hole in his heart.

That day, something had undeniably shifted in their relationship and it had marked the beginning of something new between them. Keith had started humming his song more often whenever he knew Lance was around, and their arguments had shifted to something softer, something more like friendly bickering and flirting than actual fighting. And then there were the touches. Nothing much: a brush of Keith’s fingers against Lance’s lower back as he passed in the kitchen, a slap to the shoulder after practice, a finger poke against Lance’s temple while he was zoning out in the lounge, a foot nudging his shin under the table when he said something stupid during dinner. These were all things Lance had been doing with Hunk for years and with Pidge for months, but it was different. This was Keith initiating the touches.

It had taken Lance a pathetic three months before he’d broken down and kissed him. It had been just another one of those sleepless nights when Lance had wandered into the kitchen after trying and failing to fall sleep for a good two hours. He had nearly crashed into Keith as he’d made his way to the food dispenser, and after some awkward fumbling the two of them had decided to keep each other company. They had been sitting across from one another, sampling some of Hunk’s latest attempt at what he was claiming was rice pudding using Kalternecker’s milk and some grain they had picked up a couple planets ago, when Keith had snorted and cackled at one of Lance’s more awful jokes.

The sight of him with his eyes closed as he laughed wildly, the carefree smile on his face and the laugh lines around his eyes as if he hadn’t a care in the world, had been the breaking point for Lance. Before he’d even realized what he was doing, Lance was leaning over the counter between them, one hand on the table supporting his weight and the other on Keith’s cheek tilting his chin up. He had closed the distance between their lips all the while keeping his eyes glued to the wide, disbelieving blue-gray ones in front of him. It had been a quick, chaste kiss, and he’d pulled back just as quickly, his face hot and what he was sure was an incredibly unattractive shade of red.

Keith had blinked at him a couple of times, one hand coming up to brush his lips softly before smiling fondly at him and leaning over, a devious smile stretching over his lips even as he’d whispered, “Wanna try that again?”

Lance hadn’t needed to be asked twice.

That had been months ago. And now here Lance was, on a planet with a purple sky above him and twisted jagged metal below him, listening to Keith humming his song from within Red’s cockpit. A low purring noise snapped him out of his daze and he swallowed a couple of times before he found his voice again. “Keith?”

The humming stopped abruptly and was replaced by ragged breathing and a rasping voice. “Lance?”

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat at the sound of the voice and smiled fondly. “Hey, Mullet. You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“There aren’t any popsicles here, Lance,” Keith murmured, and despite the hoarseness of his voice, Lance could clearly hear the smile in it.

Lance laughed in relief and replied back softly, “Good to hear you, babe. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I’ve been worried about me too,” Keith replied, and a soft hiss wiped the smile off Lance’s face.

“I got Keith on speaker phone, guys,” Lance said as he opened their line to the whole team. “Anyone want to clue him in on the plan?”

*********

Keith was feeling nauseous again but he was loath to wake up Sorven, who had finally fallen asleep with his hand on Keith’s chest. The Blade had been watching over Keith since the base had collapsed and while the Galra didn’t need as much sleep as humans, Keith knew that he was at the end of his rope. They both were, if he was being honest with himself, but he didn’t want to think about that. Instead he focused on the continuous babble coming from the headset Sorven had placed near him after the Paladins had finally made contact.

He knew they were currently clearing out as much debris from on top of them as possible before trying to extract them, but he hadn’t been able to follow Hunk and Pidge’s rapid-fire discussion on what needed to be done and how to do it. Instead he had asked Sorven to take over communications and had simply let the voices of his team, his family, wash over him and give him comfort.

“Keith,” Lance’s voice crackled from the speakers, startling him.

“Yeah?” he croaked in answer.

“There you are.”

Keith smiled. “Here I am. Why? Did I go somewhere?” he asked, confused.

Lance chuckled. “No, but I’ve been calling your name and I was starting to get worried you’d fallen asleep.”

“Nope,” Keith said. “Sorven is asleep, so I have to stay awake.”

“That’s right,” Shiro cut in. “Keith, we’re done removing as much of the debris as we can for now, and we’re going to start making our way to you on foot.”

“Oh,” Keith replied, furrowing his eyebrows. “So you’ll be here soon?”

“Yes,” Shiro answered. There was a slight pause before Shiro continued. “What are your injuries?”

Keith hummed. “I don’t really know what’s wrong with Sorven, he won’t tell me. But I know his shoulder is injured, probably dislocated. I’m pinned down.”

There was a sound of distress on the other end but Keith wasn’t sure who made it.

“Can you elaborate on what you mean by ‘pinned down’?” Pidge asked

“Giant metal slab with spikes from the hip down.”

“Spikes?” That was Hunk.

“You’re bleeding? How badly? Why didn’t you tell us that beforehand?” Pidge demanded, worry and frustration bleeding into her voice.

“Not badly right now ‘cause the spikes are acting as stoppers.” There were several curses on the other end of comms and the sound of something smashing. “And you didn’t ask. Besides, it wouldn’t have made any difference if I’d told you before. It’s not like you would have been able to remove the wreckage any faster.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Shiro said, and Keith got the impression he was saying that more to himself and the other Paladins than to Keith. “Pidge and Allura are bringing some first aid so hopefully we can patch you up enough to move you and get you into a cryopod.”

“You’d better. I don’t really feel like staying down here with a slab on top of me,” Keith replied, trying for a joke and clearly missing by a mile if the silence on the other end was any indication.

“We’ll see you soon, Keith,” Lance said after a moment and Keith nodded even though no one could see him.

After that, Keith let his mind wander. Every once in a while he found himself humming along to whatever song the Lance was singing under his breath, or answering questions in grunts and one-word answers. At some point Sorven had woken up, and he knew he’d drifted in and out of consciousness, but everything had become hazy and he could feel himself slowly slipping. The next thing he knew for sure, there was a sharp pain in the crook of his elbow and he whined unhappily as he blinked open heavy eyelids and found himself staring at Lance’s face hovering above him. He couldn’t have stopped his dopy smile if he’d tried, and was pleased to see Lance mirroring it with one of his own.

“There you are,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Here I am. Well,” at that, he looked sheepishly around them. “Here we are. Ready to go home?”

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” he said as he closed his eyes, a content smile on his lips.
“No no no, Kitten,” Lance ordered softly as he leaned in and gently patted Keith’s cheeks. “You gotta stay awake.”

“Don’t call me that,” Keith grumbled, batting Lance’s hand away.

“You know you love it.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do–”

“Knock it off you two,” Pidge interrupted them as she sidled next to Lance and held up a device over Keith’s head. “Your vitals are pretty awful, Keith, so we’re going to try to get you out of here as fast as possible.”

“Your bedside manner is awesome, Pidge. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Shut up, Lance,” she grumbled, slapping him on the shoulder before turning back to Keith. “Here’s the plan, Keith. Super simple. We’re going to lift the slab, Allura and I will try to stop the bleeding, but at least definitely slow it down with this,” she brandished what looked like a weird cross between a gun and a syringe, “and then we’re going to get you the hell out of here. Sound good?”

Keith blinked slowly at the torrent of information she had just spouted at him but nodded hesitatingly. “One question.”

Pidge gestured to someone outside Keith’s field of vision before she turned back to him. “Shoot.”

“Can I pass out when this happens?”

She smiled. “We’d rather you didn’t, but no one will hold it against you if you did.”

Keith nodded. “Okay.”

He let his head turn back to the ceiling and tried to ignore the noises coming from the others as they got into position. A hand suddenly took hold of his and gripped it firmly, and he smiled as blue eyes met his own; he gripped the hand back and took a deep breath as Shiro counted down from three and then—

He screamed as something shifted inside of him and the numbness that had fallen over his lower body suddenly disappeared only to be immediately replaced with the feeling of fiery ants moving through his veins. He tried to curl in on himself but hands held him down firmly, so instead he yelled his pain into the room, hoping that, somehow, giving it a voice would diminish it. There was a hand in his hair pushing it back and off his face as something wet and cold covered his wounds. Slowly, the sensation of fire was replaced with numbing ice, and he blinked his eyes open to look at Lance’s upside down face hovering over him. He grunted softly and felt fingers scratch his scalp and smooth his bangs back.

“You’re fine, babe,” Lance whispered, shushing him when a small whine rose up in his throat.

“Keith,” Shiro said as he crouched down beside him. “How you doing, bud?”

“Numb,” Keith replied dazedly.

Shiro grinned. “Glad to hear it’s working then.” Shiro paused for a second before he placed a hand on Keith’s chest. “We’re going to move you now.” Keith nodded. “It’s not going to be pleasant.”

“Okay,” he acknowledged.

Shiro looked at Lance, who nodded and moved away from directly behind Keith to his right side, his hand still firmly grasping Keith’s. Keith felt hands sliding beneath his shoulders and his knees, and then he was suddenly being lifted into the air. The pain in his side flared-up again, and with it the nausea he had been battling. He could feel his stomach contract and the bile rise up his throat, and just as he felt himself gagging his vision went mercifully black.

*******

Lance stared at his hand as he opened and closed it, trying to remember the feel of Keith’s hand gripping it and trying to forget the feeling of it going limp and lifeless when he’d lost consciousness. He clenched his hand into a tight fist and sighed tiredly as he looked up at the cryopod in front of him. Keith was suspended and bathed in blue light, eyelids closed and face slack in sleep. Lance had lost of count of how long it had been since they’d put him in the pod, at least a couple of quintants, but according to the timer there was only a couple more vargas left before he was fully healed.

Keith.

“He’s almost out, Red. Be patient,” Lance chastised the Lion, tired of her never-ending anxiety pulsing through him. It was exhausting and he vaguely wondered if she had been this bad while Keith had been her pilot.

He could feel her pouting in the back of his head and chuckled softly. As much as she acted like a momma-bear, she was just as equally like a pouty five-year-old when it came to her Paladins. You’d think Lance would get a complex from how she played favorites, but the truth was that she didn’t at all. He could feel the same love and affection for him as she felt for Keith, and he knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that she would go to the ends of the galaxy to come rescue him if he needed her.

He leaned back against the pod and put his headphones in, determined to lose himself in his music for the remaining of the time Keith was in his pod and not think about how he’d looked buried under rubble, red blood pooling beneath him and his skin as white as a ghost. As he lost himself in his songs, he felt himself relax, and as the tension drained out of him he closed his eyes and fell asleep before he knew it.

The beeping of the pod startled him out of his nap and Lance scrambled up just in time to see the pod hiss open. He smiled widely as Keith groggily blinked his eyes open and took one disoriented step out of the pod, nearly face-planting had Lance not reached out and caught him in his arms. No matter how many times they went into the pods, none of them ever learned.

“Hey Kitten,” he greeted him, tightening his arms and happy to hear a noise of contentment and not pain at the gesture.

“Hi,” Keith said as he leaned up and captured Lance’s lips into a soft kiss.

Lance smiled into the kiss and gently pulled back before he got carried away. “How you feeling? Any pain?” he asked, running his hands down Keith’s arms, double-checking even though he knew Keith was fine.

Keith hummed sleepily. “No,” he yawned. “Just hungry. And tired.” He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gross. I need a shower.”

Lance laughed. “In what order?”

“Urgh.”

“Okay, shower and then bed,” Lance decided. “I’ll ask Hunk to drop something off in my room for you to eat.”

“Aren’t we presumptuous?” Keith teased as he let himself be lead to Lance’s room, his eyes half closed and trusting Lance to not steer him into a wall.

“Would you rather go to your room?”

“Why would I? Your room is warmer.”

“They’re the same temperature.”

“That is a lie and you know it,” Keith scoffed. “I know you got Pidge to turn up the temperature in your room somehow.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“I am not. I can sense it.”

Lance chuckled. “With your Galra senses?”

“Damn right,” Keith nodded.

“C’mon your highness,” Lance said as he guided him into his room and towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the shower.”

“Kinky,” Keith teased, leaning more into Lance and burying his face against Lance’s neck. “You smell good,” he mumbled.

“And let’s get you smelling just as good,” Lance told him as he pushed Keith towards the shower and helped him out of the cryopod suit. “Do you think you can handle the shower by yourself?”

Keith pouted. “But why?”

“Aw, come on babe. Don’t give me that face,” Lance pleaded. “I just need to get the bed ready.”

Keith perked up at that. “Are you getting the blankets?”

“If you let me out of– Hey!” Lance shouted as Keith suddenly pushed him out of the bathroom and closed the door in his face.

“I want my nest ready when I get out of here!”

“Aren’t we bossy?”

“What are you still doing here?”

Lance grumbled at that but decided to be the bigger man and not rise to the bait. He waited outside the door until he heard the shower turning on and Keith singing one of Lance’s songs before he made his way toward the lounge to collect the necessary pillows and blankets.

“Lance!” Shiro said as he stood up to greet him by the door. “I’m assuming this means Keith is out of the cryopod?”

“And in the shower,” Lance confirmed. “I’m just on a quest for pillows and blankets.”

“Ah, so nap first?”

“Yeah. But Hunk, any chance you could drop off some food in my room anyway?”

“Sure,” Hunk replied, standing up and clapping Lance on the shoulder as he left the lounge and made his way to the kitchen.

Lance glanced up then and realized that everyone, including Sorven, was sitting around the couches, and that he had clearly just interrupted something. “Sorry,” Lance apologized even as he started picking up and discarding various pillows and blankets.

“It’s all right,” Allura waved away his concern. “We were simply speculating with Sorven what happened.”

“It was mostly definitely a trap, although I do not believe it was one specifically set for the Blade,” the Galra said. “The planet used to be a rebel outpost, and the explosions were most likely intended as a trap for them.”

“I guess that’s a relief,” Lance said as he continued to gather specific pillows and blankets from around the lounge. “I’m sorry about your teammates.”

“Thank you,” Sorven replied.

Lance nodded and looked over his shoulder toward the door. “I’m… gonna go. If you guys need us, we’ll be in my room. Napping.”

“Uh huh,” Pidge grinned mischievously. “You’re so chivalrous, Lance.”

Lance could feel Shiro’s stare boring into his even as his face burnt red, and he decided that a strategic retreat was in order. With his bounty held tightly against his chest, he bid a hasty good-bye, ducked out of the lounge, and jogged back to his room. He arrived just as the sound of the shower stopped and he had just enough time to arrange the pile of blankets and pillows into a half-way decent looking nest before Keith stepped out of the bathroom and bee-lined toward him. The shorter teen collapsed face first into the bed and hummed appreciatively as he burrowed his face into the soft fabrics and inhaled the familiar scents of his family.

Lance smiled at the sight and manhandled Keith until he was spooning him from behind, arms wrapped tightly around him and one leg thrown over both of his. He buried his face into the nape of Keith’s neck and, finally, he felt his and Red’s anxiety draining away. Keith was finally back where he belonged: in the Castle, on Lance’s bed, in Lance’s arms, with Red’s soft purrs echoing in the back of both their minds.

Mine.

Lance sighed contently. “Yes.”

Ours.

He smiled. “Ours.”