Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

(Hey! This is part two of the two part epilogue. It's been a blast writing this, and I don't think I could have done it without all the kind words and support! Thanks, guys.) 

Epilogue Part 2

Team bonding day rolled around, and Allura and Coran eagerly joined the paladins now converging in the lounge area. The bright morning castle lights shone down gently from the ceiling which were soft and inviting, now that they had all acclimated to castle life. Keith wouldn't admit he initially found the dull flickering bulbs of his shack more comforting than the grand castle lighting, but as the months drifted by, he realized he had started to like them a bit more.

They weren't doing any combat training since it was team bonding day, and at Hunk and Lance's very insistent suggestions (complaining), they did their bonding exercises from the comforts of the circular sofas. It was normally an area reserved for informal debriefing and where Allura had spent many nights eagerly listening in on the tales her father and the other previous paladins would share. But never actual training. Breaking ancient paladin tradition wasn't something Allura was fond of, but she tried to be flexible.

He hid his reluctance well, but Lance's quintessence remained locked tightly within himself, and she knew something had to be done if he was to recover properly. Allura considered herself a fairly capable ruler despite how new she was to the role; knowing when to show discretion and restraint when sensitive situations called for it, democratic lessons from thousands of years ago still fresh in her mind.

She found Lance earlier that morning after a passing encounter with Shiro in the halls of the castle, hours before the other paladins would be awake. Shiro's perimeter patrols were no secret to her—her mice always relaying information they thought relative to their princess—and though the castle's defences would be more than sufficient to alert them to any intruders, Allura did not mention it to him. She was sure Shiro already knew, anyway.

Lance sat cross-legged, his back to her, in the blue lion's hangar. Blue had lowered their body as close to the floor, and therefore as close to Lance as they could, and he rested his fingertips against their chin. She approached carefully, leaned her head down towards him and extended a warm hand onto his shoulder. She hoped Lance would be receptive to her idea.

"Paladins," She pulled herself from the memory, then glanced around at everyone in the lounge. It was on the fourth level of the complex, and she had taken a seat next to Lance in the middle, who looked a bit nervous. "I was thinking we could do something.. a bit different today." They had discussed what she wanted them to do, and Lance only needed a bit of encouragement before quietly relenting. Everyone turned their attention to her.

"Oh... So no meditation and poking around in each others' heads today? Because I found this really cool recipe for some alien toffee squares that I was kind of hoping to share," Hunk mentioned. Coran made a noise of clear interest.

"Hmm, well, you'll have to show me that, but not right now. Today we're going to do some lion bonding!" Pidge squinted through her glasses.

"Isn't this supposed to be team bonding day though?" With her 'secret' long out, Pidge looked forward to the exercise. Sharing her thoughts with her teammates, equally as willing to give their own, was a strangely calming experience.

"Your lions are as much a part of the team as you all are," Allura calmly explained. "You spend a great deal of time with your lions in battle, but there is certainly reason to warrant spending time with them outside of it, as well."

"I already do, though." Pidge frowned. She spent plenty of time with her green lion. She was always focusing on upgrades, and she could tell how pleased her lion was to get the attention. She may not have caught on to seeing through her lion's eyes right away, but the two of them were practically as thick as thieves now, and ten times as dangerous. The green lion loved her inquisitive nature, and always rumbled with excitement when their little paladin designed new upgrades to test out.

Lance waved a hand dismissively in feigned nonchalance.

"Allura's talking about the linked connection thing I have going on with Blue," he started, and felt a small sense of satisfaction when Shiro's head turned slightly towards him, a glint of interest in his eyes. Lance was sure that having to spend an entire morning under his instruction would add to Shiro's overall discomfort of any time spent in his company, but Allura had made some good points earlier when they spoke that morning. This would be good for everyone.

"Correct. There are ancient records of past paladins bonding closely with their lions as Lance has, and they were some of Voltron's most skilled pilots. I believe everyone would benefit from attempting to form deeper connections with their lions."

Each of the paladins held what Hunk named the 'bonding helmets' they frequently used during team meditations, and Lance ran his thumb across the light surface absentmindedly. He rolled his neck as well, and Keith eyed him carefully at the emergence of the habit.

"You mean our lions are gonna take us over like what you and Blue did?" Hunk asked, suddenly sweaty. "Are my eyes gonna glow all yellow?! I didn't think we'd be doing this today. Should I have gone to the bathroom before this?!" Lance grinned.

"Hey, hey, don't worry 'bout it, big guy. We're not doing anything like that for a while. That's advanced stuff—we're just doing the basics today." He looked confident, flexing his fingers with the pride of a practised professional. But a flicker of apprehension flashed across his face. "Uh. I, I haven't actually done this since I got back, though. So uh.. let's see if I can still do it." Lance chewed the inside of his cheek, then wiped his dry lips with the back of his hand.

He knew he would probably never lose the ability to link their minds after all the time they spent together, but also knew that Blue was drained after keeping Lance alive for so long. He agreed when Allura had asked him that morning to help train the other paladins to the same level where he was, and Blue seemed fine with it, but at their insistence hadn't tried linking their quintessence since he returned. Lance could still feel some of Blue's ancient memories burned into his mind, white hot and blinding, and knew they would never fade. Parts of his mind essentially belonged to them now—an unfortunate side-affect of prolonged exposure to their presence inside his body—and Blue did not want to expand their territory anymore than they already had.

"Blue?" Lance closed his eyes, and waited. He called out to his lion in his mind, and it only took moments before he got a response. He felt a familiar chill run up his spine, t.v static tingles curling and sweeping all around him, then the recognition that he was no longer alone enveloped him. His head was filled with the quick, swirling melody of Blue, both elated to be back with their paladin but now with an overly cautious energy thrumming in the background of both of their thoughts.

He opened his eyes, and they glowed a familiar neon blue. Shiro looked upon him with wide eyes.

"Are you.. the blue lion?" he asked, "..And Lance?"

"Yes," Lance's tone was robotic, matching how it had been for all those months following his rescue. Keith didn't like it very much, despite the fact that he had come to respect Blue, even like them. "It is nice to speak with all of you again."

Hunk laughed uncomfortably. "You too, Blue. But, uh. Lance.. IS there, right?"

Lance's head nodded slightly, slowly. His features picked up into something more animated. "Yup, still here." His voice only had a slight echo to it, compared to Blue's. "Ugh, feels weird for us both to be in here, though.." Keith now looked on with an unabashed fascination with the rise of Lance's personality.

Pidge scooted up closer to Lance, dissecting him. "What's it feel like?" She leaned forward to study his face for a brief yet intense moment.

Lance shrugged. "It's hard to describe.." He covered his mouth with a curled index finger. "..You know how sometimes your lion puts images directly in your brain?" She nodded. "Like that, only all the time and way more intense." Pidge hmm'd as she tried to imagine the feeling.

"How did you two get to the point where you could connect like this..?" Shiro inquired, clearly taking the training exercise very seriously. Lance and Blue figured he would probably be the first to get the hang of things in the group, considering how naturally gifted he was.

"Well," Blue began, turning Lance's features into something that definitely had some smugness to it. "My bond with my pilot was already quite strong before we were separated from all of you. It grew all the more profound during our short time spent alone, but only because my paladin is my best paladin." Keith rolled his eyes, no stranger to Blue's high and mighty opinion of Lance.

Lance threw his head back and laughed without reserve until Keith kicked at his ankle. "Hey, I didn't say that! That was all Blue." Watching Lance's face and posture go back and forth was a bizarre sight, and despite the advantages of having such a close bond with their lions, Keith hoped that if he got to the same point, he would only have to do it when other people weren't looking.

"Anyway," Lance looked more serious, but not quite Blue-level serious. "It's not all that hard to do. It's just." He thought for a moment, then straightened his back. "Kinda tiring." Keith recalled the sensation of seeing through his lion's eyes—something he was able to learn how to do months ago, after intensive amounts of practice—and wondered if this would feel at all similar. Though tiring to keep it up for too long, the scope of range of his lion's eyes was a lot wider than his normal vision, and Keith fought much more effectively from their point of view. If he and the rest of his team could master connecting with their lions, maybe they'd give Zarkon a run for his money sooner than they thought.

"Alright, so," Lance began, "You start by learning how to see the images the lions communicate to you, which we all already know how to do. After that the goal is to be able to do that, only all the time. Eventually, once you get the hang of it, it seems less like images and more like.. words?" He wasn't used to having to articulate how to work the magic bond with his giant metal space robot. He thought of what else to say. "You have to treat it like when we do team exercises with each other, because if you don't let your lion in your head it won't work. So you can start by picturing your lions and letting them in your head to talk to you."

Coran nodded sagely, as if he completely understood exactly what Lance said. "And uh. Like I said. It's pretty exhausting, so don't try to do it all the time. I didn't really have a choice, but... There's no big hurry." Lance looked away, then Blue looked up, directly at Keith. They held a knowing smile. "And Keith.. I wish you luck." They promptly retreated from Lance's mind, and Keith squinted. What did they mean by that?

Lance snorted. "Oh, man, yeah. Red almost never lets anyone link up with them. Good luck, man." Keith huffed out indignantly, and shoved the bonding helmet over his messy hair. He'd see about that. Hunk and Pidge followed suit, and holographic depictions of their respective lions flickered into view. Lance stood up, surveying his class, then stopped off next to Shiro, silently staring at the helmet still in his hands, and planted himself heavily into the seat next to him.

When Shiro didn't move, he took a long, deep breath while studying him for a few moments, then broke Shiro's deep train of thought by elbowing him slightly in the ribs. "Hey, look alive," he half-heartedly joked, but Lance caught the startled look which flicked across his face before it settled into something more attentive.

"Oh, uh. Right." Shiro glanced around at the others with looks of fierce concentration on their faces. Keith and Allura stared at him along with Lance. He quickly slid his helmet on and closed his eyes, not wanting to catch their concerned gazes, and the black lion appeared in front of him.

Lance scrutinized him as if he were seeing him for the first time, but said nothing. He wasn't sure exactly what he should say. He didn't like how Shiro treated him like he was something fragile or already broken (he wasn't, he could fight and he could help, he just needed some more time to get over his issues), but Lance especially didn't like to see Shiro so distraught looking. He knew it was probably best not to derail conversation away from the exercise, knowing there was a time and a place for any kind of heart-to-heart, but only with reluctance did he leave him to go and help everyone else.

Keith especially would need his help, Lance thought with just a bit of satisfaction. After just as reluctantly pulling his attention away from Shiro, Keith shifted back and forth on the sofa with his eyes closed in frustration. His nose was scrunched up a bit, and Lance could see the muscles of his jaw clenching and releasing every few seconds. Even his angry face was kind of attractive, Lance observed, and he knew he'd be seeing a lot of it in the next while. Red was very temperamental, after all.

After around only one hour, it was quickly realized just how draining the training was. Hunk flopped over, the helmet sliding out of place and deactivating, and moaned dramatically. “Uuugh, why's this so hard? I'm wiped." The yellow lion was surprisingly talkative.

"That's why I said we're only doing the basics today," Lance said, then added with playful authority, "Remember, patience yields focus." He looked at Shiro for his reaction, but was met with barely anything. Shiro lifted the helmet up from his head and nodded.

"Lance is right, everyone. We know how to approach working on our bonds, but for now, let's call it quits."

Lance thought he might have found it amusing for him to have plagiarized his own words, or at least gotten annoyed at the blatant phrase theft, but it almost seemed like he didn't even remember he had ever said it himself. Lance frowned and plopped next to Hunk on the sofa.

"Yeah, feel free to do it on your downtime, but don't go crazy with it. Keith."

Keith narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't planning on it, Lance."

"Alright, alright." With the start of a headache forming, Shiro stood up and faced everyone. "We all did well today, but don't overdo it. The Galra could make a move at any time, and we have to be ready for that." There was a shift in atmosphere as training officially ended, and they gathered their things to resume their usual routines.

Lance echoed his words jokingly from the comforts of the couch. "Yeah, great work, team. Get some rest, you've earned it." Shiro quietly excused himself without much to say in retort, and Lance didn't miss the way he wobbled slightly. No one did. Pidge lifted from the seating, and waved to Lance.

"Thanks for the lesson, Lance." He flashed a thumbs up at her. Coran was close behind Pidge, and Lance didn't doubt they were going to follow Shiro. Warmth spread through his chest knowing his team had such a great support system. Shiro would be okay.

He watched them leave, until Allura blocked his view with a sympathetic smile. “Lance, I want to thank you for agreeing to help everyone today.” He felt himself heat up from the words of gratitude. “I know this must be hard considering what lengths you had to go to in the first place to obtain such abilities,” she said softly, and Lance's smiled faltered slightly. “So please, let us know if it gets to be too much.”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, it's no problem. Really. I'm just surprised I didn't think of it first,” he lied coolly. “It's pretty awesome being in charge of everyone.”

She rolled her eyes, and Hunk turned and pushed his foot against Lance's side, who let himself be shifted to the other side of the couch, both of them laughing obnoxiously. Allura wouldn't be deterred, however. “Of course.” She straightened herself up and turned slightly towards the exit. “I'll take my leave then. I'll see you at, erm. What did you call it, dimmer?”

“—Dinner.” Keith cut in before Lance could affirm that yes, it was called dimmer.

“Right. I will see you all then.”

Keith rubbed his temples in an attempt to clear the tension from them as Allura left, and wiped the sweat from underneath his tangled hair. He was exhausted. Hunk and Lance were settled like stones on the couches, and as he studied the curved line of Lance's back where he sat facing Hunk, he suddenly felt a bit less tired. He joined next to them, contemplating what to do next, and Lance reached over and slapped the top of his thigh playfully.

"Nice work, man. I think you managed to pull Red out of their shell today!" Keith had done practically the opposite, and Lance's snickering and very much condescending tone had Keith twisting his legs away from the barrage of slaps, and he snatched the offending hand from midair.

Lance quickly folded his fingers over the back of Keith's hand like a cage with devilish satisfaction, and though Keith wanted to punch him in his smarmy face, he just grunted and looked away, biting, "Unlike you, my lion isn't the easiest one to connect with."

With a grin, Lance puffed out his chest proudly. "Jealous? You're right though, Blue's like—the best. Sucks to be you!"

"Hey, lay off, Lance." Hunk chastised, "Keith did his best! He's got it the hardest out of all of us, doesn't he?" Hunk still had his bonding helmet resting on his stomach, and gently patted it. "The yellow lion's really nice, and said it's not gonna be super hard for us to link up because we work really well together, but Keith's really gotta earn his lion's respect. Isn't that its whole M.O?"

"Yeah, whatever. Excuses, excuses."

"Wh—You were the one who said it was gonna be harder for me!"

"Actually," Lance corrected, "Blue's the one who said that, not me."

Keith felt his skin start to heat up in frustration, and let out an angry noise. His palm was getting sweaty still in Lance's calloused one, so he wiggled it out, then threw both hands up in the air. "No it—Ugh! You're impossible." He concluded with a growl, looking away. He could smell Lance's freshly washed hair as he gazed at the wall.

"Nah, I'm just the best when it comes to uh, connecting with robot space lions, or whatever."

"A robot space lion whisperer, if you will." Hunk offered, to Lance's delight.

"Right! Don't worry Keith," Lance turned the most shit-eating grin at him. "You've got The Robot Space Lion Whisperer to teach you all the secrets to connecting to your lion. Think about it, all these lessons are gonna be bonding experiences. You love those." Keith groaned, picturing all of the future training lessons there would be ahead of him. Of course Lance would agree to be a teacher, what better way to lord how great he was over everyone else?

“How long do you think we're going to be at this for?” Keith was almost afraid to ask.

“As long as it takes,” Lance gave him the same grin he always did after saying something particularly obnoxious, lips upturned impishly, framed by his normally nice looking dimples, and Keith thought his cheeks would split from how wide it was. Great.

"Yeah, no kidding." Hunk's voice was surprisingly unaffected by the bickering beside him. He sounded more contemplative than anything. "There's no actual deadline other than, y'know, the looming threat of the Galra conquering the universe. But there's nothing like classes, or homework.. Or family holidays, or.." Keith and Lance stopped and turned to look at Hunk, both not missing him curling in on himself a bit. "Other normal life things to keep us busy.."

He went on as the two beside him shared a look. "I mean, how long have we been out here for..? I think it's been longer than a year at this point." Hunk lifted his chin to stare at the blank ceiling. "..I wonder what they told our parents after we left.."

"They—They said we dropped out of the garrison of our own free will," Lance pushed out quickly, startled by his friend's sudden reservation in demeanour. Hunk turned to look at him, confused.

"What?"

"They said we disobeyed direct orders, then took off into the night or something. I'm not sure if that's what they told everyone, but I'm guessing they kept their story pretty consistent to avoid suspicion..."

Keith pulled a knee towards himself, thinking. "We didn't ask your mom to keep quiet about us, though, so she may have told other people about it."

"I dunno. It's a pretty crazy story to begin with, Amá probably knew people wouldn't buy it. Plus, me and Hunk got busted for sneaking out all the time, who do you think people are gonna believe?"

"W-Wait wait wait, what are you guys talking about?!" Hunk's voice was almost hysterical, raised in panic. "How do you know what they told them?! How do you—Oh." It finally clicked, and Keith and Lance shared a look of confusion, before it clicked for them as well.

"I thought you told them about all that!" Lance hissed at Keith. Keith shook his head and stared at him incredulously.

"I thought it wasn't important! We agreed to not mention it to anyone in case you didn't come back—and then when you did we had other things to worry about!"

"Uh, no! I think knowing about any trips back to Earth is pretty important!" Hunk had no idea what to say. He was shocked they had apparently been to Earth, and a smaller part of him was furious they didn't bring him. He had a thought. "Did you, by any chance, happen to visit my.." Hunk paused, his throat growing tight. "—My.." Lance went cold.

"N-No, sorry, buddy.." Guilt forced Lance to hunch down and avert his eyes. "There—There wasn't a lot of time.."

Shoulders squared, Keith sat defensively at the curve of Lance's inturned arms. "We went back when Blue was passing out all the time, remember that? Didn't exactly have the luxury of touring the place." The realization that they had gone when Lance was dying hit Hunk with force, and immediately he looked down in shame.

"Right, yeah, that was stupid of me to even— ..Geez, what was I thinking.. I'm sorry." Lance's lip quivered, and he gripped the fabric of the back of Hunk's vest, pulling the two of them closer together.

"Hunk, we're gonna get you back home too, okay?" Hunk sniffled, and Lance pushed their knees against each other. "Hopefully under better circumstances than mine, though," he joked feebly, and Hunk laughed despite it not being funny. He was silent for a few moments, and felt their sympathetic stares on him.

"...Yeah, okay. But only if we visit the pizza shack you always were going on about, too, deal?" Lance let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, and leaned his head on his shoulder.

"Deal."

Keith looked on, and was struck with the uncomfortable realization that he didn't belong there in the moment. It felt too intimate between the two, and he was on his feet before he thought his actions through. Lance and Hunk both looked up at him, and the vulnerable moment made him realize just how ill-suited he was at offering comfort and emotional support.

He remained standing, and panic quickly bubbled up from his stomach as the silence stretched between them for too long. Lance's initial confusion shifted into understanding, and he saved the day. "So uh.. I think me and Hunk are gonna chill for a bit, you gonna hit the training deck or something?"

"Y..Yeah.." That didn't sound like too bad of an idea, actually. He'd be checking on Shiro first, though. "Will you guys... be okay..?"

"Yeah, I think so." Hunk tried to smile at Keith, and his heart squeezed with sympathy.

"..Okay. But come find me if you need anything." As he left, Lance hoped the unspoken demand of 'don't go crazy with the combat simulator' echoed between them. He got on Keith's case enough about it, but trying to tell Keith not to beat up combat drones like a maniac was like trying to tell him not to breathe—it was a pointless endeavour. The guy was stubborn.

With the two of them alone, Hunk spoke up. "Hey, Lance?" Lance hadn't bothered moving, and Hunk could feel his jaw as it moved against his shoulder.

"What's up?"

"Did you...Did you think you would ever make it back, when you were separated from us?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and surprised Lance. Hunk shied away from asking Lance a lot of questions about what happened, telling him he was there if he wanted to talk, but never outright tried to get him to say anything, picking up on Lance's reluctant vibes.

Lance didn't really want to think about back then, but knew that out of everyone, he had really only told Keith and Coran anything about what happened. He didn't want to expose Pidge to the horrors of what the Galra were capable of, even though he knew she probably had a good idea, and he was sure Shiro had enough terrifying stories about dealing with the Galra of his own to deal with. Allura had offered, just as everyone else had, to be there for Lance if he wanted to talk (which he didn't). But most of all he didn't want to scare Hunk anymore than he already was.

After coming to the understanding they were possibly the only ones who stood a chance of saving innocent beings from Zarkon's rein, Hunk was on board with being a Voltron paladin, but the fear of what they were going up against didn't vanish. Hunk was trying to be brave like everyone else for the sake of the universe, but all of them were scared, and he was no exception.

But he guessed it wasn't fair to keep the details from his friend if he really wanted to hear about them. "...Honestly? No." Hunk's veined eyes widened. "You.. saw those recordings I did, right?" He nodded.

"About a month and a half in I figured I was probably never gonna see you guys again." Lance curled his legs in. "It got pretty bad after that." A shallow breath caught in Hunk's throat.

"I never thought I'd see you again, either.." He wrung out his hands, eyes glued to the floor. "When I figured out how to track you down, even though it was a long shot, I kept hoping we'd find you—and we did! We did. But..." His eyes had a glossy sheen to them. "It wasn't you. For a while. And then you came back, and now you're h-here but-" Lance lifted his head and looked over when Hunk's voice started to waver.

"It was pretty much a miracle you didn't die, wasn't it?" Tears fell freely out of the corners of his puffy eyes, and Lance quickly bundled him up into a solid hug. He wept silently against his bony shoulder, sniffling loudly every few seconds.

"Y-You could've died, Lance. We could all die pretty much at any point, and that would be it.." Lance nodded against his ear gently. It was bizarre to hear Hunk talk about the same things he had spoken about so nonchalantly in the past.

Having to face the realities of losing one of the people you cared about had a larger impact on Hunk than he realized.

"...I miss everyone back on Earth." He whispered after a few minutes, now leaning more of his weight against Lance, emotionally spent and subdued. "Even Mr. Iverson, and his weird eye thing."

"I know, bud.. I miss them too," Lance took a moment to reevaluate what he said. "...Except Mr. Iverson. His eye thing weirded me out."

"That's fair." After Hunk calmed down, he pulled back and wiped his snotty face on the back of his glove. "Sorry... for freaking out like that."

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it.. You wanna go get something to eat..?" When they used to sneak out late at night from their dorms, there was a dusty old pizza place open just as late as the local bars, and the two of them would slip into the worn seats near the window, watching the night life unfold at the bottom of the hill. He could never drag Hunk into the bars no matter how he pushed and prodded, but also didn't mind the musty diner air. It was all so thrilling back then, despite how civilian it was. Lance wondered if the place was still open.

"Uh, not really. We had breakfast like, an hour ago."

"Oh, right. Well, wanna go build some cool space crap or something?" Lance asked, hopeful. Hunk could tell he was trying to make him feel better, and appreciated the thought. Actually..

"Yeah, actually now that you mention it, I've got this thing I've been working on. It's really cool, I can show you." They dragged themselves from the couch and headed towards the workshop. There seemed to be a bit more energy in Hunk's step as he went on about what Lance definitely did not understand, and Lance was glad to see it.

Hunk kept his workplace relatively neat, considering the sheer number of projects he usually had on the go at any given time, and Lance only had to nudge a few things out of the way as they made their way past the yellow lion in its hangar and into the adjacent room. He tuned back into Hunk's technical babbling when he reached the crescendo of the explanation, evident by the huge breaths he sucked in and the grand arm gestures of Nerdy Excitement.

"So I thought, hey, why not try to use a geneva cam model to turn the constant rotational motion of their internal quintessence engines into intermittent rotational motion, right? Duh, Hunk."

"Yeah, duh, Hunk." Lance crossed his arms and nodded like the very knowledgeable mechanic he was.

"It pretty much makes the quintessential equivalent of a stoichiometric mixture, and since it produces a discharge of all the extra fuel it doesn't use up I had to feed the rest into this internal storage cell I built, only liquid quintessence is really finicky, so you have to separate it into really precise amounts!"

"Makes total sense." Lance wandered about before he stooped down and dug around in one of Hunk's toolboxes. From near the bottom he pulled out an innocuous looking tool with a red and yellow button. He hit the red one, and the tool melted in his hand and hit the floor panelling with a hissing plop. An undignified squawk forced its way out of his mouth and Lance jumped away and whipped his head around to see Hunk, still going on about flux whatevers. He hadn't noticed, thank god.

"Right? So I installed some gage blocks which I designed to a guaranteed accuracy of a few millionths of an inch, so now we don't have to worry about accidentally blowing a fuse in our lions, so to speak."

"Okay dude," Lance rubbed at his burnt fingertips. "I'm gonna be honest. You completely lost me." Hunk turned and blinked at him through his goggles a few times.

"Oh. Okay, basically I made this thing which'll help our lions run even more efficiently so we won't have to worry about running out of power on longer missions."

Lance actually perked up at that. "Whoa, that sounds awesome." Hunk beamed with pride.

"Right?! It's the coolest. I could really use your steady hands to help with these gage blocks, too. I mean. I-If you don't have anything else to do.." He trailed off, and Lance could see the same timid reservation seeping into Hunk from earlier. He felt his pulse speed up, desperate to keep that version of his friend from coming back.

"Psh, you know I've almost never got anything to do, man! Of course I'll be your space assistant mechanic. I'll pass you whatever space wrench you need!"

"..They're not called space wrenches, dude. What is up with you adding space before everything?"

"Hey, we're IN space, remember? Anything out here in space is automatically a space thing. You and Pidge? Space nerds. Keith? Space mullet." Lance briefly considered calling him his space boyfriend, but was surprised to find himself going up against his own timidness, and went with what was safe. "And Shiro? Space da-"

Hunk gasped. "Shh!!" He covered Lance's mouth and swiped his gaze around the empty room. That name was forbidden. "Earth's in space too, but you didn't do it there."

"Point taken." Lance lifted up a T-shaped tool from beside the workspace, inspecting the dull blue glow it produced from a glowing liquid contained in the center. "So what kinda space wrench is this?"

They spent the rest of the castle day cooped up in the workshop, and Lance didn't leave until the ache in Hunk's chest quieted down. It was still there, and Hunk didn't think it would ever leave. But having Lance back now—safe and sound, messing around like they always did back in the old days—that kept it calm and grounded.

—

"Your orders," said Lance, his voice flat and cold. "Now." His breathing was harsh, and matched the soldier he had pinned up against the jagged stoney wall. Keith watched Lance glance down at its mangled legs, bleeding profusely at what were once knees that had caved in from his calculated shots minutes earlier, before he stared back up into its equally mangled features from behind his hand.

They laughed loudly, showing their broken teeth stained with their blood.

Lance gripped the soldiers face tightly with his left hand, a stolen blade in his right. "You really don't wanna test my patience, man. Tell me your orders."

"Vrepit Sa! Vrepit s-"

He smashed the heavy handle of the knife into the soldier's cheekbone harshly which only offered a spongy resistance against the weight of the blow, tied the gag loosely to their mouth so it wouldn't take them too long to get out of it and call for help after Lance left, then rose up to his shaky feet.

Silence. The dim glow of a raging fire in the distance.

Lance already knew he was too late. The planet was littered with the decomposing remains of its original inhabitants, and he had followed the corpse trail to the center of the destruction.

Their orders didn't matter. Or, really, Lance already knew what they were. What they always were. Drain the planet of its resources. Take those fit for slave work and arena fodder, and leave none of the rest alive. The lone soldier he happened upon wouldn't give up any information he could use. None of them ever did. He wasn't sure what brought him to try to subdue and question them in the first place. A hope that, maybe, just once, he would find one who regretted what they were doing? Find one with some shred of humanity?

He supposed he was asking for a lot, considering they weren't human to begin with.

He walked forward to nowhere in particular, helmeted head swaying as he rubbed his armoured wrist under his nose, coming back with thick, pasty blood. He sniffed loudly.

"It's looking like another lost cause from down here, Blue. Are you picking up on anything up there?"

He remained silent before he removed his helmet and Keith had to look up at Lance's exhausted features.

Lance hugged the helmet to his chest and his airway seemed swollen shut from the strangled noise he made at the back of his throat. He then turned his face up towards the dark amber sky.

"...Come get me, then. We'll at least take out the base in the south and disable the beacon before we blow this joint."

Lance put his helmet back on, then shifted on the rough terrain to take one last look at the trembling soldier he had left crippled and gagged. He started towards them, then stopped himself.

They would never afford Lance the same amount of humility. He knew that.

And yet.

The healing cube soared from his hand before he knew what he was doing. It bounced off of the stone pillar behind the soldier then landed next to them in the dirt.

Blue's brilliant aqua glow broke through the dark clouds above seconds later, and Lance watched his lion land in front of him, crushing the soft earth beneath their massive body. Their exterior was riddled with chips and burn marks, and Blue almost seemed to heave as they settled themselves down onto the ground, resting their head in front of Lance. He walked over and placed his hand gently on their mouth.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I know you're pretty beat too, but we're almost-"

Lance cut himself off and whipped around at Blue's insistence as a small Galran dagger flew towards him. It was thrown poorly, and landed only a few feet behind and off to the side of him as he took a step to the right. He studied it intensely before the sound of wet gagging lifted his attention towards the soldier he had left behind.

"Coward!" Their garbled shriek rang out from the recording, and Keith joined Lance as they both flinched from how desperate and broken the soldier sounded. They watched as their hands pulled at the loose dirt, dragging their useless legs behind them. Lance's bayard reactivated in his hands as he held his back against Blue.

"Only success, or death will stop me, paladin..! Finish the job, or bare me your throat."

He had already removed their helmet, and their head was completely unguarded. They had pulled out another small, hidden dagger after escaping their bonds, but Lance had also already disposed of their gun. They crawled at a snail pace.

It was an easy shot.

Lance didn't take it.

"Paladin—AUGH!!" They were silenced by a blast that ripped through and mangled their hand.

"...U-Use the cube to heal yourself, or bleed out. I don't care." Lance's voice trembled. Keith had made his way through some of the recordings by that point, and knew that Lance had killed before, many times.

But Lance never seemed to get used to doing it.

His hands still trembled as he backed into Blue's lowered jaws, shaking weapon pointed at the screaming soldier until the red light from the dark sky retreated into the cracks of Blue's closing mouth and only the hum of electronic systems could be heard.

Lance stumbled a few steps down the interior hull, hugging his armour tightly, before his legs gave out and he crumpled against the wall. His heaving breaths turned into desperate, choked out sobbing, and Keith was struck with an intense urge to reach out into the screen to comfort Lance, but couldn't.

"Are you kidding me?"

Lance's very much present voice in the storage room Keith sat in rang out from behind him, and he jerked around, staring wide eyed at a frazzled, furious looking Lance approaching from the doorway. He stormed past Keith rigidly with his face a deep red.

It took him a moment to speak up, and Keith realized he was struggling to get a hold of himself.

"What are you even doing looking at these again?" Lance cut in before Keith could say a word, and snatched the log recorder from the raised pedestal that drew directly from the castle—and therefore Allura's quintessence—for power. (Keith had discovered it one quiet night wandering around after a sparring session with Shiro. He always got worked up trying to prove, mostly to himself, that he could take on his leader, and that energy would always take a while to fade.)

"I—" He knew it was an invasion of privacy, but Lance would never talk to him about what happened. He had asked around, and he wasn't talking to any of the other castle's inhabitants, either. A part of himself Keith was disgusted with was curious, and rationalized that he needed to know what happened to be able to bring Lance to open up about it.

But mostly, he was just terrified of losing Lance to some unknown terror he would never speak of. If a specific memory that Keith didn't know about was chipping away at him on the inside, what was he supposed to do other than tell him things would be okay, when they probably wouldn't be? Lance couldn't move on if he kept things internalized, as much as he seemed dead-set on trying to do exactly that. Keith didn't want to see what almost happened to Shiro happen to Lance.

He felt like a failure for not being there for Shiro when he needed him, whose time locked up with the Galra was now an unbreachable topic. Shiro gave Keith the general idea, but never specifics. He tried to keep him away from all of the terrors they put him through, as if the knowledge alone could break anyone else who knew about it. But Keith wasn't weak. He could handle being relied on. He wanted Shiro to rely on him. He wanted Lance to rely on him.

What good was he if he couldn't even manage to help some of the only good things in his life? 

"—Actually, changed my mind, I don't wanna know." The recorder sunk deep into Lance's jacket pocket, and Keith didn't think he'd ever see it again. "Just, don't, okay?" Lance's colour deepened, and he kept his arms knotted to his chest.

"Listen," Keith found his tongue and tried to defend himself. "I'm sorry I did this without asking." He forced himself to keep his voice at a normal register. "But you never tell me anything. I want to be able to help you, but I don't know enough about what happened!"

Lance scowled at Keith, the grip on his crossed arms vice-like and the fabric of his jacket was pulled tightly in bunches. "You do know what happened, I already told you," he spat. It was far too late in the day to be pursuing that particular topic.

"No, you never talk about anything specific. You always just bottle things up and tell me you don't want to talk about it."

Lance threw his hands against the sides of his head and gripped the short, curled hair above his ears. "What does it matter?! You don't need a play-by-play, and I don't need to give you one!! Dios, what's wrong with you?!" His tone of voice made Keith flinch.

He balled his fists and shook his head, frustrated with himself for not being able to say what he wanted to say. Distraught, he snapped. "Lance, I'm not doing this because I want to know what happened, I'm trying to tell you that not talking about what happened isn't healthy! It's reckless and it's stupid."

This close Keith could see his whole body tense up. Lance choked on his words, so he paused and sharply inhaled through his nose. He tried again.

"Yeah? Well, you're stupid, Mr. I-get-a-kick-out-of-invading-Lance's-privacy. You wanna help? Try minding your own business." He sounded congested as he spoke, and quickly turned his heels to head back towards the door. He had set out to find Keith for their usual fight date, but that definitely wasn't going to happen now. He felt sick. Having to see himself on that screen, even for a moment, it was like he was there again. The memory was in the forefront of his mind, no matter how much he wanted to forget about it.

He couldn't deal with his. Not now.

Keith instinctively took a step in Lance's direction, but his legs seized up and he froze in place as his mind took over. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to follow him and force him to talk? Lance would probably hate him if he did that, if he didn't hate him already. Keith's throat dried up. He didn't know what words he was supposed to use to fix things.

"You—You can't just pretend all of that never happened!" His voice cracked as he called out to Lance's back.

Not trusting himself to speak, Lance ducked his head and raised his middle fingers back at Keith in response before the doors slid closed behind him, and Keith was left with an angry, empty feeling. He looked down, chest heaving, and laid a hand on the empty pedestal.

It was stone cold.

—

The neon of his faintly glowing sneakers momentarily flashed off of the reflective windows Lance stomped past as he made his way back to his room, making him think he'd seen movement, and he flinched away in response. He stopped swiftly in his tracks and looked over at himself in the reflection of the surface. He hunched with a stooped posture, eyes sunken and face still marred by snot and tear marks. He hated what he saw, and rubbed harshly at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, frustrated by his own skittishness.

After a brisk walk through the halls Lance soon arrived in front of his room. He twisted past the door, moving to his left and kicked over the newly formed pile of space trinkets he had assembled from the last vendor planet they made a supply run to.

He permitted himself a few more moments to be angry, but then forced himself to calm down.

When his breathing steadied, but still riding the wave of adrenaline from the argument, Lance dug in his pocket and pulled out the log recorder. Sharp ridges that dug into his hand from his tight grip felt too familiar in his hands. He was sure there was probably important information on it. He had toured enough Galran ships back then, and while he couldn't understand all of the lettering engraved into the hallways and hangars and control rooms, maybe Pidge could translate it. Or maybe Allura could. Maybe it would give them some insight into how the Galra operated; squadron formations, prisoner reports from the walls of text from the ship's computers that Lance could never decipher, something.

He was sure that all the unintentional time he had invested into the log recorder could be of use to his team. He could be of use to his team.

Yet he was still nearly overcome with an urge to dump it unceremoniously on the ground and bring his foot down on it, over and over, until he could feel it crack beneath his heel.

Instead, he wearily tugged off his jacket and let it slide to the floor without the slightest intention of picking it back up. His mother always used to drill into him the importance of keeping a tidy living area, but Lance didn't feel very grounded in the virtues of home at that moment. The entire room seemed to bare down on him, and with slow deliberation he dragged himself in front of his bed.

The sheets were neatly tucked into the sides from earlier that morning when he and Keith had extracted themselves from them.

Keith was never good at making beds, since apparently neat and tidy living wasn't something he valued, but Lance could see the effort he put into it this time. It made him angry, and he didn't understand why. There was a faint sterilized mist of staleness that hung in the air as Lance stared at the traitorous sheets and tried to think about nothing.

A shower lifted his spirits, but only minimally. He sank back into his bed afterwards, anger ebbing away just as swiftly as it had come. It was gone, but bitterness remained just as strongly in its place. His feet kicked at the blanket and dislodged it, and he tried to ignore the satisfying feeling he got from doing that.

Lance shifted against his pillows, and stretched his robed legs out, crossing them at the ankles. For a moment he considered finding Hunk, but threw the idea away almost as quickly as he had thought of it. What could he even say? He also didn't think bothering Hunk with his problems was worth the risk of running into Keith in the hallway. Who knew where the guy was. He had probably ran off to Shiro by then, always looking for validation that he was right from the black paladin. But he wasn't. Not this time. He knew Keith was probably just worried, but it was still such a sore spot for him. Waking up from nightmares had become less common now that they didn't sleep separately. He was doing better.

Lance just needed Keith to be there for him, he didn't need him trying to root around in his brain to piece together why exactly he was so messed up. It was obvious.

After being forced to stew in his own thoughts for only a few minutes, Lance realized he was going to have to do something to avoid losing his mind.

Soft footsteps echoed through the halls as he marched into the first floor lounge, wearing a frown and his draping Altean robes with matching lion slippers in search of the very person he knew he'd find at this now very late castle hour.

Shiro was lost in thought, his lids drooped over bloodshot eyes. Unsurprisingly he had his full set of paladin armour on. At the sound of Lance's approach, he straightened from his position on the lounge seating and turned his head back, to look at him with faint surprise. He sat up as if he'd been waiting for the chat, always attentive to the needs of the other paladins. Keith had come to him earlier, tightly wound up like a coil ready to snap. I ruined everything, the vulnerable fear in his voice made Shiro pull him in and ask what was going on.

"You're up late," Shiro observed carefully. "Everything alright?" Lance smiled at that. He could ask him the same question.

"Peachy. Listen," Lance began, not interested in beating around the bush. He almost felt like Keith's constant unyielding demand for answers was rubbing off on himself, and frowned as the memory of their earlier fight popped back into his head. "I gotta ask you for a favor."

—

"Are you sure you're ready?"

Lance shrugged nonchalantly at Shiro's concern. They started slow, circling around one another in the training deck. Lance had been practising with Keith for weeks now, and he felt confident going up against Shiro. All casualness between them evaporated, and Lance quickly adjusted his armour braces, eyes never leaving his opponent.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Shiro didn't activate his hand at first, and Lance quickly grew frustrated at how one-sided the match felt. He was supposed to be so much better at fighting than he used to be, but even without the disadvantage, Shiro still easily outclassed him, and Lance soon understood he didn't stand a chance if they dragged things out. Shiro had a fluid, engaging fighting style, which he figured was what happened when someone was forced to fight for survival against so many different types of enemies for so long.

In fact, he really didn't have any room to complain. Comparatively, he had gotten off easy with just a few months. He sort of had enough food and water to get by, and he had Blue to keep him company. He doubted Shiro was afforded those kind of luxuries, and Shiro never froze going up against Galra soldiers anymore.

If he could do it, Lance needed to do it too.

"I said I'm ready, Shiro! Get serious." His voice was hard from exertion. He was already sweating, and Shiro's pitying look drove him up the wall. His arms poised in front of him ached but he continued gripping harder than he needed to, terrified that if he didn't, he'd lose his resolve and back out. He hadn't even seen him activate his prosthetic, yet he was still a bundle of walking nerves.

"If you're sure.."

"I am! Quit babying me!" Shiro frowned and looked up from his hand, ready to retort, but Lance was not having that. "No, nope, less talking, more fighting, got it?"

Shiro let out a sharp breath through his nose, but obliged. His hand lit up and glowed a brilliant purple, and Lance forced himself to look and not flinch. Bile immediately rose in the back of his throat, and he felt his blood drain and replace itself with thick lead. Shiro quickly approached, and Lance pulled back his stance into a defensive position. Moving was difficult in the first place, let alone trying to evade Shiro's attacks, and as he came at Lance he struggled to keep up with the barrage of blows. The Galra soldiers in his peripheral vision were distracting, and closed in to make the room feel incredibly cramped.

Shiro noticed the sudden change in his demeanour immediately. "Lance, do you want to stop?"

"No!" Lance hollered, and attempted to land a punch in Shiro's face. He dodged without really trying, and Lance's chest felt like it was on fire. "Stop! Going! Easy on me!" He mustered his strength and pathetically shoved Shiro by the chest back a few feet, but he was hot on his trail. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he ignored them.

Shiro watched as Lance rushed towards him, and was suddenly struck with a flurry of flashing images. The desperate, caged animal look he gave him, the aliens who in moments of pure terror ran at Shiro. They never had weapons, they were only cannon fodder, things to be tossed away for the amusement of the Galra empire, things to die by the hands of the champion. Shiro could see Lance impaled on his glowing arm and cried out, pushing him away with his human arm as Lance reeled an arm back for a punch. The sprawled, twisted shapes of what were once scared, innocent creatures, now with only the barest remnants of faces, contorted in agony all around him, and their roaring screams filled his ears while blinding white light filled his vision. He couldn't stop the screaming, couldn't do anything but murder innocent things, no different from the monsters above the arena surrounding him. He dropped forward to his knees to the swaying floor and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the images away.

After stumbling back from the push, Lance tumbled and hit the floor with a thud. He looked up at Shiro, who looked visibly nauseated. He was breathing heavily, and Shiro reached up to cover his mouth, eyes wide and watering. "..Shiro?"

He looked scared, but lowered his hand when he saw that Lance wasn't impaled on his arm. "W-Wha.." His breathing stuttered.

Lance looked at him, dumbfounded. "Are you-"

"It's okay-I'm alright. You just- You had this look about you, like you were right there in the arena with me, a-and I couldn't.." He squeezed his eyes shut, and Lance realized what he had forced Shiro to re-live. "I couldn't.."

Appalled by his own lack of sensitivity, Lance approached slowly and bent down to meet Shiro.

"Aw geez, I didn't even think that this might be hard for you, too.. I'm sorry, Shiro.." Lance spent so long berating himself for not coping well enough, that he forgot Shiro might still struggle with things himself. Shiro covered his face with his flesh hand.

"No, it's-it's normally not a problem.." His muffled voice came from behind his glove, and Lance felt his heart squeeze at the sight in front of him. Drying blood sizzled on Shiro's cooling prosthetic hand. It bubbled before evaporating with a smoky meat smell into the air, and Lance numbly realized his cheek was bleeding.

The energy seemed to go out of Lance, and he stared, unfocused, past Shiro. He laughed, but was startled by how harsh and unfamiliar it sounded. "Look at us, huh? Protectors of the universe. Can't even fight each other without freaking out.." Shiro looked up at Lance's self-degrading smile and noticed the slice on his face, then remembered he was supposed to be the composed one and made an effort to collect himself.

He got to his knees and wordlessly offered his human hand to Lance, who took it and hauled himself up.

"Thanks." Lance wasn't sure what he needed to say in that moment. It felt important, like he would miss an opportunity if he didn't speak up.

"Don't mention it. Let's go get that patched up." The two made their way to one of the deck's wide doors. Under Shiro's eyes looked even darker than before, which Lance noticed from the corner of his vision. Shiro remained mostly quiet, and Lance wondered if he didn't know what to say, either. It seemed so unlikely given how charismatic Shiro was, and how always ready he seemed to be able to give out deeply perceptive advice. But he had to remind himself that Shiro was human, too.

Lance heard himself blurt out, "Can we try again tomorrow?" And after the initial surprise, there was something so gentle and understanding in Shiro's gaze that Lance couldn't help but feel safe there with him. The nauseating purple sun spots from staring at Shiro's hand were fading, and the urge to throw up was quickly receding. It was still there, but having to look at it again now didn't seem as daunting of a task.  

"Absolutely."

Lance figured he would make his way over to Keith's room after this. He'd been avoiding even thinking about him, especially since Keith was so adamant about getting him to talk about his feelings, of all things. But suddenly he was very tired and missed him.

Maybe he wasn't as okay as he thought. Lance was smart enough to understand that. He didn't want to think about the terrible things he went through, even if they weren't as bad as what Shiro endured.

Lance had survived a difficult ordeal on his own. He had a right to feel good about that.

After everything he'd gone through—the fighting, the isolation, the borderline starvation—all of it had changed him. He wished he could just pick out the useful traits he inherited, like his connection with Blue, and his sharper combat skills, but he realized he was stuck with everything now, the good and the bad.

But maybe that was okay, for now at least. He felt ready to actually move on, instead of just running from the parts of himself he didn't like.

Lance was ready to start talking.

-

(Thank you for reading!)

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