Chapter Text
The incessant beeping was the first thing that came into focus as if someone had finally found the correct frequency for a radio station.
His body spasmed in protest when he tried to move, even his eyes were too heavy to open. The back of his head ached in particular, he must have taken far more hits then he thought.
He tried to remember how their last battle went but he could only see images blurred by laser fire flicker in his mind.
The soft sheets he was lying on couldn’t be the floors of a Galra ship but they weren't soft enough to be his own bed either.
He quickly started to regain his senses, noticing that this place didn’t smell like the castle. The usual sweet smell of Hunk’s cooking wasn’t wafting through the room, even the stench of grease from whatever new project Pidge was tinkering with wasn’t permeating the walls either. This place smelled clean, reminding him of the chlorine filled swimming pools back on earth.
It was cold, the sheets under him weren’t enough to prevent the goose bumps rising on his arms. He was surprised to find his right arm wasn’t shivering like the rest of him. There was something warm smothering his arm. He could feel something squeezing his hand, not to the point of discomfort but whatever was laying on him was heavy.
He tried to open his eyes again, with slightly more success only to be overwhelmed by the light flooding the space. He screwed his eyes shut while a cool breeze brushed over him. He tried to remember if he left his window open last night-
His room didn’t have windows.
The realisation made his heart skip a beat. His eyes adjusted to the light and he slowly began to take in his surroundings, he looked out the window in question to find blue skies and tarmac peeking through. He definitely wasn’t on the castle.
The beeping was growing faster accompanied by rapid throbbing against his chest. He blinked realising that plain white walls surrounded him instead of the usual metal plates of the castle. The beeping was relentless but it only spurred Lance’s mind into overdrive. He noticed several wires were attached to him, he followed one back to the source of the noise, a screen with a flashing line running across it. He recognised it as a heartrate monitor.
His breathing stopped when he realised that the weight on his arm was actually a warm body. He wrenched his arm out of the stranger’s grasp, trying to edge away from them in the space the bed confined him in.
He watched breathlessly while the stranger roused, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Lance’s gaze automatically darted around the room searching for possible exit points. He huffed when the only exits he spotted were the open window and the doorway behind this stranger.
He felt his muscles tense when he noticed the familiar weight of his armour was missing. He cursed under his breath when he surveyed the room again to find no sign of his bayard either.
“Lance?” a voice croked out.
His attention was snapped back to the stranger, anxiety hurtling through his insides. The stranger appeared unarmed, but he refused to let his guard down. He was hit with a nauseating sense of familiarity as he looked over the woman’s tousled brown hair and pale skin. He could feel his stomach drop when he looked into her golden eyes.
“Pidge?” he breathed, keeping his muscles tense. He could feel the lump forming in his throat when he realised it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her, despite their similarities, this couln't be Pidge.
“You need to breathe, Lance,” she said, concerning herself with his heart rate monitor, “Your heart rate is through the roof”
Lance refused to follow her gaze, keeping his eyes trained on her every movement.
“Just try to inhale,” she said, doing the action herself before releasing her breath slowly, “and exhale, you need to calm-”
“Who are you?” he said, unsure of himself, clutching at the sheets surrounding him.
She looked back at him, her forehead creasing in confusion. Lance, frowned in recognition, he’d seen Pidge wearing that look before.
“Lance,” she whispered, her voice betraying her concern, “It’s me, Katie”
“That’s not possible,” Lance said, his confusion amplifying the ache in the back of his head, “You’re not Pidge”
“Lance,” she said softly, her eyes studying his face with what he registered as tenderness.
Lance stared back at her as she moved closer to him. He moved away automatically, the rustle of the bedsheets accompanying the soft breeze of the wind.
“It is me” she said, her voice steady as she reached for him.
Lance heard the heart monitor pick up speed before he felt the matching thrum speed up against his chest. His hands shot forward, grabbing her wrists, preventing her from moving any closer.
“What have you done with my team?” he said, glaring at her bewildered expression, “where are my friends? Where’s Allura?”
“Lance” she said, struggling against his grip, “You need to calm down”
“What happened after that last battle?” he repeated, trying to hide the worry in his voice,
Lance could hear his own teeth grinding against each other while she stopped struggling against him, her gaze boring into his..
“Lance,” she said slowly, “Our last battle was six years ago”
“What are you talking about?” he said, his grip on her loosening.
“you’ve been in the hospital for the last two days” she said, tears sneaking into the corners of her eyes, “You were in a car crash, Lance”
Lance stared silently at the woman in front of him. Her mouth continued moving but he couldn't make out what she was saying anymore, instead, a sharp ring reverberated in his ears, engulfing the whistling breeze and the rapid beeps of his heart rate. She slipped out of his grip at some point, leaving the room only to return with several people dressed in white coats. Lance tried to figure out the last thing he had been doing but all he managed was to amplify the ache in the back of his head. The pain knocked him breathless, causing the people in front of him to become blurred shapes and colours. His vision was only exacerbated by the cold tears glazing over his eyes. He vaguely registered someone grabbing him and a sharp prick on his shoulder before his world slowly came back into focus.
“Mr. McClain’s injuries seem to be healing fine,” the doctor said, removing the different wires and tubes attached to him with a sharp tug, “the only issue is this memory loss”
Lance watched wordlessly while the doctor continued to talk to her. He could feel an ache building behind his eyes as he stared at her. He struggled to reconcile the image of this woman with his friend. He searched her face for more similarities but every time he found something that had stayed the same, he found something that had changed. Her clothes were different. Although, that made sense with the lack of clothing options in space. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a light pink shirt that was still too long with the sleeves slipping past her wrists. Still, he found he missed the way her old clothes engulfed her, making her seem much smaller than she really was.
The hair was something he’d have to get used to. It wasn’t much longer than before but it was finally long enough to be tied up into a pony tail. He found some comfort in the fact that her hair was still a mess, several strands of her hair had escaped her hair tie, framing her face.
Lance could feel something stuck in his throat as he studied her face. She hadn’t changed much, the angle of her jaw seemed sharper but her eyes were still the same. He could still catch the curiosity shining through whenever she peeked at him, only dulled slightly with concern.
This was Pidge, he repeated silently to himself. This Pidge was six years older. He wondered, if she was still the same Pidge.
“Mr. McClain, I’ll need to see you again in a few weeks to make sure everything is still in working order,” the doctor said, trying to engage him in the conversation. Lance’s mind was far too occupied to muster up any interest so he settled for nodding politely.
“You’re free to leave as soon as you’re ready,” he continued, “I’ll leave it to Mrs. McClain to book your next appointment”
Lance was snapped back to attention, staring at the doctor as if he had just sprouted a second head. He looked back at Pidge who thanked the doctor, shaking the man’s hand. His eyes were drawn to the gold band on her finger, glaring back at him. Lance’s eyes drifted down his arm, somehow unsurprised to find the matching ring on his own hand.
Lance had been electrocuted before, the feeling of every muscle contracting at once, leaving him quivering with a heightened sense of everything. He recognised the same sensation as he felt the intense tangle of emotions bubble up from somewhere within him. He was far too exhausted to discern what each feeling could represent. His entire body ached from trying to piece itself back together and he could hear the call of sleep ringing in his ears.
She waited for the door to swing shut after the doctor before she pulled a chair over to his bed. Lance self-consciously smoothed down the sheets over him, trying to ignore the gold band burning into his skin.
“How are you feeling?” she said, looking directly at him. The feeling of vulnerability prickled against his skin.
“I’m not sure,” he said honestly. He avoided meeting her gaze, instead, focusing on the low quality of the hospital’s cotton sheets. “There’s a lot to take in, I'm not even sure if you're really Pidge”
“I am Pidge,” she reassured him softly.
“How am I supposed to believe that?” he said, looking back at the familiar face of a stranger, “The last time I saw you your hair was different, your face was chubbier-”
“My face was never chubby,” she cut in indignantly.
“How can you be the same person?” he finished quietly.
“I’m not the same person that you ‘remember’,” she said, looking at him in earnest, “I’ve been through a lot in the last six years, but I’m still Pidge”
Lance searched her face but found nothing but sincerity looking back at him. He had seen this look a hundred times since he first met her. This wasn’t the Pidge he knew but at least his Pidge was in their somewhere.
“Are we… married?” he asked, a blush dusting his cheeks. He already knew the answer, he realised there were very few ways for her to have become Mrs. McClain, unless she had ended up marrying one of his brothers.
“It was one year ago,” she said, playing with the ring on her finger, “we actually got married here”
“In the hospital?” he said, the memory failing to materialize in his mind, frustration taking its place.
“On the beach,” she said, rolling her eyes at him, “We’re in Varadero”
“I’m home?” he asked quietly, looking out the windows, taking in the darkening skies he had missed for so long. His brain slowly filled of memories of sand tickling his toes, the cool waves sweeping across his feet while he enjoyed the changeing colours of the fading sunlight. The memory was so strong he could feel his heart pound against his chest as he remembered the faces of his family, the ones he etched into his memory, thinking that he would never be able to see them again.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” she said, bringing him back to their conversation.
“I… we had made it back to earth,” he said, his mind drifting to hazy images of their last battles, “we were fighting Sendak”
“Do you remember what happened after?” she said, catching his attention.
“Not really,” he said, images flashing through his mind, blurred with pain and frustration, “Is it safe to assume we won?”
“Yes,” she said.
Lance peered at her carefully. Her voice was clear and confident but he couldn’t feel victory rolling off of her. He couldn’t make sense of everything she was feeling, the emotions kept spinning through her eyes, making him dizzy.
“How did I end up here?” he said.
“You were in a car accident two days ago, the other driver was drunk,” she said, anguish seeping in to her voice, “It was touch and go for a while, but you pulled through”
“Are you ok?” he said, recognising the exhaustion on her features.
“I’m ok” she laughed, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders, “Are you ok? You were the one in a car accident”
“It’s my memories I’m more concerned about,” he said, “One minute we’re fighting against the Galra, the next I find out I’m married to you”
“Well, at least I’m not as bad as the Galra,” she teased, leaning back in her chair.
“How am I supposed to be sure, Pidge?” he asked, easing into their banter, “Track record shows you’re likely to electrocute me”
“A lot has changed in six years, Lance” Pidge said, smiling at the memory.
“Do you think I’ll get my memory back?” he asked, the lightness of their conversation evaporating into the air between them.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice unsteady for the first time since he woke up, “For now, let’s take you home”