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Everything was all wrong. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission - no battles, no enemies, nothing to worry about except how incredibly bored they were going to be during the endless meetings and how to best pick up all the cute girls at the party afterwards.
Their supposedly peaceful new allies weren’t supposed to turn on them and take them down, after insisting they come without weapons or armor. All because Keith had some kind of allergic reaction to this special crystal they made all their visitors touch. Apparently only the Galra reacted like that. And apparently the Mebolans hated the Galra so much - not that anyone could really blame them for that part - that the fact that this particular half-Galra had been working his butt off saving the universe from the Empire meant nothing to them. That part they could very much be blamed for.
Stupid quiznaking Mebolans.
So yeah, everything was wrong, and getting worse by the second. The fact that their captors were threatening to attack the Castle for sending a Galra after them, while two members of the team were detained and Voltron couldn’t be formed, was bad enough. Being dragged to the high-tech alien equivalent of a dungeon in cuffs wasn’t encouraging, either.
But now, after shoving Lance into one cell, the guards were taking Keith into the next with batons drawn. They barely let him get through the door before they laid into him. All he could do was lift his arms in front of his face to try and protect it as they swung at his torso, slamming the batons into his arms and ribs.
Lance rushed at the transparent wall that separated the two of them, banging on it with his cuffed hands.
“ Hey ! You leave him alone, or you’re gonna regret it!”
They didn’t even acknowledge that he had spoken. He hit the wall again, teeth gritted, but all he could really do was watch as they kept up their barrage. Keith grew smaller and smaller the longer it went on, ducking down, trying to cover his weak points. He looked so…helpless. Nothing like the raging warrior Lance had grown used to. He’d seen him get his butt kicked by Galra before, sure, but even those times he’d done his fair share of kicking them back.
Now he had no way to fight. A strike across the head sent him reeling, crumpling to the ground, and Lance shouted wordlessly. They still didn’t let up, though. They just set on him with their boots, instead, pounding against every inch they could reach as he curled up into a ball.
It seemed like an eternity before they finally had their fill, slamming the door of the cell as they exited. Lance glared at them as they walked by. “Cowards! Beating up an unarmed man! He never did anything but try to help you!”
Again, he got no recognition. He didn’t care, though. Keith hadn’t yet moved from his curled up pose, and while he didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere, he couldn’t be in any kind of good shape after that.
Crouching down, Lance knocked gently against the glass. “Hey Mullet? You okay in there? I mean, obviously not okay , but…alive?”
There was the smallest shift in his position, and a quiet sound like a hiss. “Yeah,” he grunted a moment later. “I’m alive.” He moved again, bringing his arms down from in front of his face and beginning to slowly stretch out his legs.
“Quiznaking racists,” Lance mumbled, settling down to sit cross-legged but keeping a close eye on his teammate’s stiff movements. “I mean I get it, the Empire has done terrible things, but you’re part of Voltron . Clearly you’re different!”
“It’s fine, Lance.” He pushed himself up to lean against the wall, face twitching and jaw clenched as he fought not to wince.
“It’s not fine , what are you talking about? They just beat you to a pulp!”
Keith stared up at the singular lightbulb on the ceiling. “There’s some of these places that have never gotten the chance to fight back against the Galra. They’ve gone through terrible things and…they deserve the opportunity to take some revenge.”
“Not against you !” Lance attempted to wave his hands incredulously, but since they were stuck together it didn’t work as well as he would have liked. “Are you nuts? Did that whack to the head make you even more of an idiot than usual?”
Sighing, Keith shut his eyes. “Why do you even care, anyway? Thought you’d enjoy seeing me brought down a peg.”
Lance gaped at him, not even sure to start with what to say to that. “What? Wha-...no? I…brought down a peg, sure! You’re good at way too many things, in my opinion. But beaten half to death ? No! Why would I want that?”
“Because you…hate me?”
Dropping his chin, Lance rubbed his hands across his face, trying to figure out how they’d gotten to this point and how he was gonna fix it without also embarrassing himself. “I don’t hate you, Mullet. Do you irritate me? Yes! Did I get extremely sick of hearing all about how wonderful you were back at the Garrison? Yes! But dude…we’re teammates, okay? I know you have my back when we’re out there, and I’ve got yours. I can’t hate you. And I don’t want a bunch of aliens beating you up because of something you can’t even control.”
Keith rolled his head to the side to look at Lance, brow furrowed as if in consideration of his words. After a moment, he sighed. “I’m not all that great, you know. I’m bad at more things than I’m good at. Like…conversation, and being a normal human. Maybe because I’m not fully human. But…so we’re clear, I don’t hate you, either. Never got the whole ‘rivalry’ thing in the first place. You’re good at your own stuff, I don’t see why we need to compete.”
Lance blinked at him in surprise, then let a goofy grin come over his face. “Keith Kogane is admitting that I’m good at stuff he’s not?”
“...yes?” He squinted in confusion. “That’s…what I just said.”
“Never mind, Mullet, don’t hurt yourself,” Lance huffed. “We should probably use this time for figuring out how we’re going to escape, anyway.”
Keith nodded solemnly. “If the Mebolans are really going to try and attack the Castle, then we need to be there to help.”
“Do they even have the firepower for that?” Lance mused. “They said they weren’t capable of fighting off the Galra. Surely they don’t think they can win against Voltron.”
“It won’t be Voltron, though, remember? Not if we’re not there. I don’t know if they could pull it off or not, but I’d rather not risk it.”
“Yeah, and we shouldn’t stick around to see if they’re gonna pummel you some more, either.”
— — —
An escape plan wasn’t exactly easily thought up. They messed with their cuffs, they fiddled with the doors of their cells, they tried kicking the walls that looked like glass but certainly didn’t break like it. None of it did them any good. Even Lance, who proclaimed he was the absolute best at ideas, had nothing. All they could do at that point was sit back and wait for someone else to show up, hoping that they could jump them or figure out their pattern or talk their way out of this situation - Keith was extremely skeptical of that last one, but Lance seemed to think that it might be possible still, no matter how much he’d already tried up in the throne room.
Privately, Keith was glad to just sit for a while, anyway. He didn’t want to complain, especially not to Lance of all people, but everything on his body hurt. His ribs were the worst, shooting pain through his chest every time he moved, but his stomach and arms and legs throbbed, too, and he had a killer headache. He wanted to just lie down and sleep.
The Mebolans, unfortunately, had other plans for him. Their heavy footsteps could be heard all the way down the hall, and Keith found himself tensing up automatically.
It was for good reason, too. They paid no attention to Lance’s shouting, just like before, marching straight past him and into Keith’s cell. It still baffled him why Lance was trying so hard to protect him, anyway, no matter what he said about them being teammates. He’d always acted like he’d rather be rid of Keith before.
But it didn’t matter what either of them did, because those same guards from before were now carrying a tub of water between them, and Keith had a very bad feeling that he knew what it was for.
They set it down in the center of the cell, then came at him simultaneously, arms outstretched. He ducked and ran, but there was nowhere to go except across the cell. One lunged at him, and he blocked with his arms. The bruises all over them protested that choice. But he ignored the pain, kicking out and trying his best to evade.
Inevitably, the fight didn’t last long and only really served to make the Mebolans angry. He was grabbed by his hair and dragged back toward the tub. The one not holding him slammed a fist into his jaw, knocking his head sideways and ripping strands of hair from his head, before he was forced down onto his knees.
Immediately Keith grabbed at the edge of the tub, trying to brace himself. His heart was pounding, mind whirling with a repetitive chorus of please don’t please don’t please don’t.
The guard kicked his arms out from under him, and he was shoved straight down into the water. He barely managed to gulp in a breath before he was hit with icy cold that almost made him lose everything in his lungs.
The panic that took over his body made it impossible to think straight. He was pushing against the hands that held him with all of his might, his own hands trying to find purchase again on anything that might give him leverage. The sound of his heart drummed in his ears alongside the sloshing of the water as he fought. How long had it been already? A minute? Two? His lungs started aching far too soon. He tried to play it smart, to let what little air he had out in short bursts of bubbles, but it barely helped.
The worst part was that he didn’t even know their goal. If he knew this was just to torment him, that would be one thing. But they might very well be ready to kill him. This could be how he died, drowned in an alien cell, without ever getting to say goodbye to Shiro or any of the teammates he’d come to call his friends.
Then his hair was yanked, his face broke the surface of the water, and Keith let his jaw drop open to gasp in glorious air . It was too little and too much all at once. As soon as it hit his lungs he started coughing, trying desperately to suck in more in between.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear muted yelling and banging. Lance . The one good thing in all of this was that at least they were leaving him alone. Voltron didn’t need to lose two paladins.
Before Keith felt like he’d fully caught his breath, he was shoved back down again. This time he tried to calm himself, despite the fact that he had less air to hold than before. They’d pulled him up. That meant that - maybe, hopefully - they weren’t trying to kill him. So he just had to endure. He was good at that, right? He was used to pain. He could take it.
So he didn’t fight as much. That took energy, made him need to breathe sooner. As much as it went against every instinct ingrained into his body over an entire lifetime, he held still and let them do what they wanted. Instead, he concentrated on counting, and only letting out the tiniest bit of air when his lungs felt like they were going to absolutely explode otherwise.
Until there was no more air to let out, and they still weren’t pulling him up. Then the panic set in again, heart racing, and all thoughts of not fighting went out the window. Every ounce of energy he had left went into pushing his head back against those hands as his vision started to darken around the edges. He had to get up, he was going to die, let me up let me up let me up!
Water droplets flew from his face, and the force of them pulling combined with him fighting nearly knocked them all over backwards. Air scraped against his already raw throat, but he gulped it down anyway. One breath. Two.
They pushed him down again right as another coughing fit struck, and there was no way for him to stop it. Water filled his mouth, his throat, his nostrils. His mind was a single note of panic just before everything blacked out.
He woke lying on his side, head and chest soaking wet, and immediately lurched to his hands and knees, coughing and gagging. It felt like someone had lit his lungs and throat on fire.
But he was alive .
A stream of Spanish words came from Lance’s cell. “Holy crow, I was so scared! I thought you were dead !”
“Yeah,” Keith rasped, then coughed again before collapsing back to the floor. “Me, too.”
“That was the most terrible thing I’ve ever had to watch. I don’t ever want to do that again. I mean obviously it was way worse for you, but…it’s so stupid, I’m right here but I can’t quiznaking do anything!”
“It’s fine, Lance.” He wasn’t sure his voice would ever be the same again.
“It’s not fine , would you stop saying that? There is nothing about this situation that is fine !”
“Just…keep thinking about how to escape. I’m gonna…sleep.”
Lance grew quiet for a moment. “Yeah, okay, bud. You…you probably need it. I won’t let you down, okay? I’m gonna get us out of here somehow.”
— — —
He had no idea how they were going to get out of there. Lance had racked his brain, trying to come up with any possible idea while Keith slept, but came up just as short as before. If they only knew what was going on outside of these cells - whether the team knew they’d been captured, if the Mebolans had actually attacked Voltron - then they’d at least know whether they could expect a rescue at some point.
But they didn’t know. And it was highly unlikely that asking the Mebolans about it would produce any information. And regardless of what was happening, Lance really wasn’t sure that they could afford to wait for help, even for a day. Those guards weren’t going to let up on hurting Keith anytime soon, it didn’t seem. The next time, they might very well kill him.
It was bad enough being stuck on the other side of that glass, watching them torture him. Lance wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself if he sat there and let him die.
So when another set of guards showed up with the same murderous gleam in their eyes as the first, and he saw the look of pure panic on Keith’s face as they dragged him back toward that quiznaking tub of water, Lance did the only thing that his terrified mind could come up with. He screamed in his head for Blue - or Red, or literally anybody - to come save them.
He knew it didn’t work like that, though. If he wanted any chance of connecting with his Lion, he was going to have to focus, hard , just like in the mind meld sessions. So, as much as it pained him to do, he turned his back, teeth gritted, and sat against the glass with his eyes closed. It was difficult to block out the sound of water sloshing from the other cell, knowing what it meant. But Keith’s life might have depended on him getting this right.
Blue. I need you. Keith needs you.
It took a few long, agonizing minutes, but he finally felt the connection click. Yes! Come on, girl! She roared inside his head. Lance tried his best to channel all of the helplessness and fear he felt for Keith toward her, and she pushed feelings of concern back.
Then an image came to mind of outer space flying past and the planet Mebola coming into view. Relief washed over him. She was coming. She’d get them out of this, somehow.
He spun around to face Keith again, heart nearly stopping when he saw how limp he was in the guards’ hold. “Keith!” He banged on the glass some more, a lump in his throat. “Let him up, you’re gonna kill him!”
Blue roared again, and there was a deafening crash somewhere above them. The whole building shook. The Mebolans yanked Keith up out of the water, and to Lance’s horror, he was still just as limp. His eyes were shut, and his head lolled against the shoulder of one of the guards. There was no coughing, no reaction of any kind.
The building quaked again, and again. With shouts of alarm, the guards dropped Keith to run out the door. He dropped to the floor with a thud and didn’t move.
Lance couldn’t stop staring, heart in his throat, watching for any kind of movement to indicate he was still alive. Even when the lights began to flicker with each crash, he didn’t look away. It was only when they went out altogether that he glanced around.
The power was out. The blue glow that had been constant around the locks on the cell doors was gone. Lance shot to his feet and was at the door in an instant, jiggling the lock a bit before delivering a solid kick to the door. It flew open, and he ran out and straight to Keith’s door, not wasting any time slamming his cuffs into the keypad until his wrists felt like they might break. It worked, though. The lock broke, and he threw open the door and ran to Keith’s side, dropping onto his knees.
“Keith! Keith come on, wake up!” He shook his shoulder, then leaned in further and placed a shaky finger at his pulse point. There. He was still alive.
He wasn’t breathing , though. There was no movement in his chest whatsoever. Lance’s heart had crawled up somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, he could barely think past the panic screaming inside his head.
“Come on Keith, please, don’t do this to me.” He shook him again, pounding on his back.
Suddenly he jerked, a rattling sound coming from his throat. Lance rolled him further over just in time for him to begin coughing out water with a force that made Lance’s ribs hurt just watching him.
But he was alive. He was still unconscious, slumping back to the floor as soon as the fit had subsided, but he was breathing, and he was alive . Lance nearly fell over with relief.
He didn’t have time for that, though. “Come on, Mullet. We’ve got to get out of here.” Blue was still attacking somewhere overhead, but who knew how long it would be before someone realized the power was out and came to check on them. He didn’t have any way to fight, not without a weapon and his hands cuffed. Priority number one was getting both of them to Blue and off this stinking planet as fast as possible.
He tapped Keith’s cheek, but only got a moan in response. “Alright. Alright, time for another bonding moment, I guess.” Grabbing onto his hands, he tugged him upright and looped Keith’s arms around his shoulders, turning so that he could hoist him onto his back. WIth a lot of wiggling and grunting, he even managed to thread Keith’s legs through his arms and over his elbows so that he could support them without having the use of his hands. Thankfully the Mullet was short, though his muscles didn’t exactly make him easy to carry. He’d definitely tell everyone later that it was a piece of cake, though.
Assuming that there was going to be a later.
Of course there was! He was going to be the dashing hero and get both him and Keith, the current damsel in distress, out of there!
Bolstering his courage, Lance took off down the hallway, Keith bouncing on his back, racking his brain for the route they’d taken on the way down there. There was really only one way out of the dungeon, thankfully. And hopefully once he got up top, he could just follow the sound of Blue wreaking havoc.
The only problem was that up top was crawling with Mebolan guards, all in a panic over the Lion attacking their palace, and as soon as they saw the two escapees they opened fire.
“ Quiznak !” Okay, running with the Mullet on his back was definitely not a piece of cake. He barely noticed the strain, though, past the adrenaline driving him forward. Dodging left and right, trying to make himself a more difficult target, he tore through the palace halls without comprehending anything but the bullets flying past him and the pull of Blue’s connection.
The good news was that Keith was awake. “What’s…happening?” he mumbled in Lance’s ear.
“No time, just hold on!”
His arms tightened, shifting his weight upward and allowing Lance to run a bit easier. They were almost there, he could feel it.
And then Keith shouted in pain.
It was such a rare, unexpected sound that Lance stumbled, eyes going wide. “What happened?” he gasped, turning a little as if he could look back at him and figure out the problem.
“Keep going.” The order came through gritted teeth. Swallowing hard, Lance forced his feet to comply, mind still spinning with the sound of Keith’s cry.
“Are you okay? What -” The thought was cut off by a searing pain slicing through his leg. It was Lance’s turn to cry out. He careened to one side, unable to stop his momentum despite the pain each step caused until his shoulder crashed into the wall and he came to a halt.
He’d been shot. It had happened before, and he’d hoped to never experience it again, but here he was. That must have been what was wrong with Keith, too.
“Lance?” Keith was calling. “Put me down if you need to.”
He shook his head, trying to gather himself. “Take too much time.” The people who shot them were still right behind them, and Blue was just around the corner. He could do this.
One foot in front of the other, ignoring the burning pain. He’d been through worse before, right? This was nothing. Just a little further, and they’d be safe.
The sight of Blue’s glowing yellow eyes had never been so welcoming. She’d managed to burst through a wall of the building, and as soon as she spotted Lance she lowered her head and opened her jaw to let them in. Picking his way through the scattered rubble, he dove inside, one last burst of gunfire following him.
They made it. They were safe .
“You okay?”
Opening his eyes, Lance became suddenly aware that Keith was still on his back as he was sprawled on the floor, and that they were both injured. “Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I uh…let’s…get you off…”
Keith lifted his arms over Lance’s head and started trying to pull his legs back, while Lance wiggled forward to remove himself. As soon as he was free, he rolled over and looked Keith over.
“How bad is it?”
Keith grimaced, pushing himself upright. “Not…great.” It was the first time Lance had noticed how raspy his voice sounded. “I’m sure I’ll survive, though. What about you?”
Looking down, Lance pulled gently at his pants leg, taking stock. “Looks like more of a graze? It’s pretty deep, and hurts like quiznak, but…could’ve been worse.” He turned back to Keith. “Where is yours?”
He motioned awkwardly with his cuffed hands. “My back. Like…almost my hip. Nothing a pod won’t fix, right?”
“Right. We should definitely get out of here.” Lance braced himself against the wall and pried himself to his feet, favoring the injured right leg, and started making his way to the cockpit. Keith followed suit, albeit a bit slower, wavering once he was standing.
“Take it easy, man,” Lance warned him, watching him warily. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“I’m fine.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Sure you are.”
As soon as he sat down in the pilot’s chair - Keith dropping back to the floor against the wall behind him - Blue turned and bounded out into the open desert that surrounded the Mebolan’s palace. That was when Lance’s heart sank in his chest. Up above the planet, a battle was taking place. Black, Green, and Yellow were zipping around Mebolan fighters, doing their best among the three of them to hold off the weaker but more numerous ships.
“Looks like they did decide to attack the Castle, after all.”
Leaning forward to look out the windscreen, Keith let out a low growl. “We need to be up there helping them.”
“Yeah, but we were literally just shot . Plus the whole…” Lance waved his hand, not wanting to go into detail…“water thing for you. I could slap a bandage on and go help, but you need a pod, remember?”
“There’s no time for that. What if they need Voltron?”
“Well, why don’t we check in with them and see?” Lance punched the button for the comms, and immediately the cockpit was flooded with the typical shouts of battle. “Hey, guys! Did ya miss us?”
A chorus of “Lance!” rang out, followed by Shiro’s voice. “Is Keith with you? Are you guys okay?”
Lance gave Keith a meaningful look, but he shook his head with a frown. “We’re, uh…we’re mostly alright. Just wondering if you need us up there right away.”
“I’m not gonna turn down the extra help, but I don’t like the sound of mostly alright. Are either of you injured?”
Keith’s head shaking was growing more adamant. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lance turned away from him. “Uh…yeah, nothing too major but…Keith at least could really use a pod.” There was a frustrated groan from behind him that he staunchly ignored.
The pause on the other end of the line was…concerning. Finally Shiro spoke again. “The pods are down.”
Now it was Lance’s turn to pause, digesting the information. “What?”
Pidge piped up. “Yeah, apparently even though the Mebolans aren’t that strong, military wise, they have some annoyingly good tricks up their sleeves. Like some kind of weapon they shot at the Castle and fried several systems. That was their nice little way of letting us know they were unhappy for…reasons we still don’t know. What did you guys do down there, anyway?”
“It wasn’t our fault!” Lance shot back, then flopped back into the pilot’s chair. “Okay, so…no pods. That’s…not great.”
“How bad is it, Lance?”
“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith replied. “We’ll take care of it. Just focus on the fight, and we’ll meet you back up at the Castle soon.”
“Yeah, we’ve got these guys handled, so you two don’t worry about it,” Pidge said.
“Right.” Shiro sighed heavily. “Do whatever you can, and we’ll wrap this up as quickly as possible so that we can help you, okay?”
“Okay.” Lance couldn’t make himself sound overly enthusiastic, not when he was looking back at Keith and there was a growing blood stain spreading around the side of his shirt. But what choice did they have?
— — —
This whole situation majorly sucked. All Keith really wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep, and hope that some of the pain had gone away when he woke up. Unfortunately, he was more likely to, you know, die if he did that.
And he couldn’t even check out mentally, because they had to take care of this mess and Lance couldn’t do it on his own. In fact, he was pretty sure by the slightly terrified look on Lance’s face as he went into the back to get the first aid kit that he was going to need to be the calm, put together one.
That was fine. He was much more used to this kind of thing, he could handle it.
“Okay, um…” Limping back into the cockpit, Lance slid to the floor next to Keith and started rummaging through the kit. “We’ve got…gauze? And, and tape? I don’t…know if that’s gonna be enough, though…”
“It’s not.” His shirt and pants both were soaked in blood, and Lance’s leg wasn’t looking a whole lot better. “We’re both gonna need stitches.”
Lance looked up at him with a wide-eyed stare, then gave a nervous, fake laugh. “Uh…yeah. I don’t know how to do stitches.”
“I do.” Without moving the rest of his body, Keith reached over and tugged the kit toward him so he could look for the threaded needles.
“You… why ? Why do you know how to do that? Do I want to know why you know how to do that?”
The first time he’d been forced to figure it out flashed through his mind - the pain, the complete panic, the number of times he’d passed out before somehow miraculously finishing the job. “Is it really important right now?” There were the needles. He pulled one out with hands that were already starting to shake slightly. “Besides, it’s…basically just like sewing.”
Lance waved his manacled hands in the air. “Why do you know how to sew ? You’re like…tough guy lone wolf Keith! Are you saying you do embroidery in your spare time?”
Keith sighed. He did not feel like having this conversation right now. “I lived out in the desert on my own, remember? I had to know how to patch stuff up. Including myself. Now can we just…?” He motioned with the needle and thread toward Lance’s leg.
Lance blinked at him again. “Okay. Dude. I…hate to be the one to point this out, but…yours is on your back . Unless you’re super flexible, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to stitch that. And as I’ve already said, I don’t know how .”
“I’m going to show you.” Provided he could actually stay awake, see straight, and make his hands work for that long. “I’ll do your leg, then you can do my back.”
“But…what if I can’t ?” If he wasn’t mistaken, Lance had gone kind of pale.
“Well, then I’ll bleed out and die,” Keith answered nonchalantly. “But you’ll be fine. It’s really not that complicated, especially on someone else.”
“If you say so…” He stared at the needle warily, not looking at all convinced.
“Gimme your leg.” The wall was the only thing holding him up at this point, there was no way he could move toward Lance. “Now…we don’t have anything for the pain, so…this isn’t gonna feel good.”
Lance was working on tearing the fabric around his injury. “Oh, really? See, I thought that being poked by a needle over and over again was gonna be fun .”
That was…sarcasm. Keith wasn’t very good at recognizing it most of the time, but he was starting to get used to Lance’s brand of it, at least. “Well, it’ll be more fun than this Altean antiseptic.”
“Quiznak. I forgot about that stuff.” With a grimace, Lance awkwardly laid his leg across Keith’s as directed. “Just do it and get it over with.”
“Alright, here goes.” Uncapping the bottle, Keith carefully tipped it until the clear liquid poured out over Lance’s wound.
As soon as it hit, Lance threw his head back, fingers digging into his thigh and a string of Spanish words spewing from his lips. After a moment he stopped and gasped for breath. “Holy crow that hurts!” He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “And I’m not crying, my eyes are just watering.”
Keith shrugged with one shoulder, focused in on the leg. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m more concerned with whether or not you start hitting me or something than if you end up crying.”
“Well, not that hitting you isn’t tempting some days, but I’ll do my best to refrain today.”
He needed to work quickly, before Lance lost any more blood. Or, you know, he passed out. But he did also need to show Lance what he was doing, so he took the first few stitches slowly. “Okay, it’s pretty simple, like I said. Take the needle out of the package, and just…” He demonstrated a stitch. “From one side to the other. Doesn’t have to be pretty. Just try to keep them fairly close together.”
“Ugh. I can’t believe I’m watching you sew my leg together.”
“You can’t think about that part. Just focus on what needs to be done. Did you bring that hydration pouch?”
“Yep.” Lance passed it over and watched as Keith squirted some over the wound, washing away more blood so that he could keep working. Every once in a while he would suck in a breath through his teeth, or slap his palm against the floor, but he stayed unusually quiet for the most part throughout the process.
“You’re right,” he grunted after a while. “After the antiseptic the needle isn’t so bad. I’d be happy if we were done now, though.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Keith blinked hard, trying to make the black spots that kept dancing in front of his eyes disappear. Thankfully the injury wasn’t a large one. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. “Okay, for the end, you’ll, um…you’ll just need to…tie it off. Like this.” His fingers were stiff and uncooperative, hands shaking even more now than before. “ Shoot .”
“Here, Mullet.” Lance reached forward, voice softer than normal. “Let me try. Just tell me what to do.”
Keith dropped the thread and pulled his hands in to himself. “Sorry. Um…make…make a loop, and…pull the end through. And try to get it…as close to the skin as you can.”
Lance leaned in close, and Keith let his head drop back against the wall, eyes shutting. It wasn’t until he was being shaken by the shoulder that he realized more than a couple of seconds must have passed. Opening his eyes, he saw Lance looking at him with concern that melted into relief.
“Hey. I…think I got it? Took me several tries, but hopefully it’s good enough.”
Right. The knot. Keith sat up so he could check, wincing and going stiff as pain shot through his hip. “Yeah. That, uh…looks like it’ll work.”
“Okay good, because we really need to get yours done now. Even though I’m still not sure I know what I’m doing.” Lance carefully pulled his leg back, jaw clenched, and motioned at Keith. “Uh, lie down, probably? So I can reach you and in case you pass out again.”
Keith just grunted in agreement, too exhausted to form any more words, and moved slowly and gingerly to lie on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head. Automatically he could feel his body wanting to give in and fade away, but he pinched his arm hard to try to prevent it.
He wasn’t going to have to fight it for long, though. He knew what was coming next would have him wide awake.
Lance peeled his shirt away from the wound. “Geez that looks nasty. Okay, antiseptic first. You ready for this?”
Keith grunted again. He was as ready as he would ever be. Biting down on his jacket sleeve, he waited until the cold liquid splashed against his skin with eyes squeezed shut. It felt just like he remembered it - like someone had set fire to an already painful wound. He let out one long, muffled sound that was somewhere between a growl and a scream and kicked the foot of his uninjured side against the floor.
“Man, that stuff sucks,” Lance commented once the noise and the majority of the burning had subsided. “You good, bud?”
Sucking in a shuddering breath, he gave a tiny nod. “Mm-hm.”
“Alright. Stitches. I can do this. If Keith Kogane can stitch up his own skin, then I can most definitely stitch up someone else’s. Right? Right.”
He sounded far less confident than the Lance he was used to hearing. Keith turned his head slightly to the side so that he could speak more clearly, though his voice came out hoarse. “You’ve got this.”
“I’ve got this!” Lance repeated. Seconds later, the first prick of the needle came. Keith held his breath and kept still as Lance worked slowly through the first couple of stitches.
“I… think those are good? I mean…yeah, they look pretty good to me. Maybe not professional-level, but not half bad if I do say so myself.”
“I’m sure they’re great,” Keith mumbled, on the verge of losing consciousness again. “Maybe…little faster now.”
“Oh, right, right.” Lance immediately started up again, moving a little more quickly. “No worries, bud. I’ve got you.”
At that point Keith didn’t exactly pass out completely, but he did start losing time, barely aware of what was happening around him. There was the constant pain of the needle for what seemed like an eternity and mere seconds all at once, an occasional cold splash of water across his hip, then suddenly he was lying on his side and a hand was carding through his hair.
Grimacing, Keith squinted up at the person in front of him. Shiro . “Hey,” he croaked.
“Hey yourself,” Shiro smiled. “How are you feeling?”
He swallowed and took quick stock of his body. His hip still hurt really badly, but he didn’t feel quite so weak and tired anymore. “Like I was shot. But not too bad other than that.” Lifting his head off the floor, he tried to look around. “How’s Lance?”
Shiro moved aside a little and gestured back toward the pilot’s chair. Lance was lounging in it with his injured leg propped up on the dashboard, with Hunk and Pidge standing nearby. There was a bandage wrapped over the stitches Keith barely remembered doing, his hands were free of the cuffs, and he had a hydration pouch in one hand.
“Hey, Mullet.” He lifted the water toward Keith as if in a toast. “Don’t worry, I was just telling them all about how I saved your butt from those stupid racists.”
Keith huffed a quiet laugh. He was sure that there had been some embellishment involved, but he wasn’t gonna complain. “Yeah. He definitely did that, in more ways than one.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, Lance actually blushed a little before shaking it off. “Meh, the stitching thing was only possible because of your wonderful instructions. So that one was a mutual saving.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Are you two actually…getting along? And complimenting each other?” Pidge asked incredulously. “Did I step into an alternate universe?”
“Come on, Pidgeon, keep up,” Lance groaned. “Near death experiences and daring rescues, remember? We’re changed men now.” He turned and pointed directly at Keith. “But don’t think this means I’m not still going to kick your butt in the training room. Our rivalry is still very much on.”
Keith opened his mouth, ready to protest. As far as he was concerned, there had never been a rivalry, and he really had no desire to be better than Lance at anything.
But then Lance grinned at him, and it was a look that Keith had never seen directed at him before. A friendly smile, like this was their thing, their game. Keith relaxed, and just rolled his eyes. If that’s how Lance wanted it to be, that was fine. At least he was pretty sure now that he didn’t actually hate him, and maybe this whole rivalry thing could be…fun. A challenge for both of them.
“I’d like to see you try,” he shot back with a small smile of his own.
“Well, the only thing the two of you will be trying for the foreseeable future is rest .” Shiro planted his hands on his hips and gave them each a stern look. “No training deck for either of you until you’ve been in a pod or get approval from Coran.”
“ Fine ,” Lance groaned, then smirked again. “Guess I’ll just have to show you who’s boss with Killbot Phantasm I, instead.”
Wait, he was…inviting him to play a video game? That was definitely new. Keith’s smile grew wider. Yeah, maybe the rivalry thing wasn’t so bad. “Oh, you’re on.”