Chapter Text
Operation smell-a-scent was a go.
Hunk cooked the most fragrant meals he could imagine, filling the castle with warm and inviting scents.
Pidge went the other way about it. She crafted perfect stink bombs in her lab and set them around the castle, waiting to be set off by an unsuspecting passerby.
Shiro appreciated the food more, though he had to admit the stink bomb on the training deck definitely left a lingering smell. They were pretty sure the mice had dragged one into the vents and set it off, maybe on accident, maybe not.
At first, they hadn't wanted to tell Lance what they were doing, but in the end, Hunk thought it would actually help his friend to feel useful. Because Lance was still avoiding Shiro’s gaze and he seemed nervous when he was doing target practice with his bayard. Hunk knew that he would want to help, that Lance felt the need to do something more.
It wasn't long before fragrant moisturizing lotion and a collection of scented soaps appeared in Shiro’s room and, while Lance never admitted it, Shiro suspected that it was his handiwork.
Keith gave him a blanket which Shiro had been confused by until he had explained that the team had infused it with calming scents that reminded them of home. Shiro suspected Lance had a great deal of influence on that too, since he was known to go to the markets and pick out products that smelled familiar. Scents that all had different names out in space, but the team still called them by what they smelled like to them. Ginger and peppermint and orange. Coran didn’t correct them, letting them have their pieces of home.
Shiro had been touched by the little things they were all doing to try and help him with something so small. Something that seemed so unimportant in the scope of things.
Shiro did feel like his sense of smell was improving. He really did. So, one night, when a nightmare sent him scrabbling from his bed and huddling against the wall, he didn’t understand why. Things were improving, how could he not know where he was?
The dream had been cold. Something was grabbing him from out of the darkness, pulling him towards something… something that made him fight and scream in protest. Shiro’s throat had closed up, he couldn’t order the lights to come on and he couldn’t get to the switch.
Focus, focus.
Burning, watering eyes searched the darkness.
I can see the bed, the blanket is on the floor, it’s dark. So dark. Stop. No, keep breathing.
Shiro maneuvered his head between his shaking knees and gasped breaths in and out.
I can feel the floor. My pajamas. Soft, like back home. My hair is in my face. Shiro squeezed his fingers around his metal arm.
I can feel the cold.
Shiro swallowed before taking in a large breath and holding it until his lungs burned.
I can hear the ship, my heart, my blood rushing in my ears. Shiro let out his breath of air. He hesitated before breathing in through his nose.
I can smell. I can smell. Shiro pressed his hands over his face and breathed harshly, feeling the panic grow. His lungs hurt and his head was pounding. Why could he never-
Vanilla.
Shiro froze.
Vanilla and... Lavender.
Staring at the dark outline of his fingers, Shiro let out a breathy laugh that was on its way to turning into a sob.
The soap he had used to wash his hands with before bed had been vanilla scented. The blanket he had knocked to the floor had a strong scent that he hadn’t quite identified until that moment. He reached for the blanket, brought it close and breathed in.
Lavender.
Like the incense they used to light when they were studying and wanted to remain calm. Like the bouquet that had been gifted to him for an anniversary. Like his grandmother’s favorite soap stocked in the guest room when he would visit her. Familiar and safe and warm.
He wasn’t in danger.
He was in the castleship; far from home, but safe.
The nightmare faded from his mind slowly as he brushed his fingers over soft fabric. He felt calm and present. Really present for the first time in a long time.
When he felt grounded enough, he moved back to the bed and, with the lavender scented fabric wrapped tightly around him, he quickly fell back to sleep.
Shiro slept peacefully the rest of the night.
The explosion was significant.
They had already finished the fight and they were searching for any remaining Galra when one last bomb shook the area. A surprise gift left behind by the last Galran soldiers to evacuate.
Luckily, there weren’t any civilians in the area when it went off. Shiro felt a measure of relief that grew as each member of the team checked in. His growing relief was cut short when he called for Lance and was met with static.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then there was a flurry of activity as everyone tried to find the blue paladin. The explosion had been farther out, Lance had been on the ground, he shouldn’t have been caught up in it. And yet, there was no response when they called him. Shiro gave out steady orders, conducting the search with composure, reminding them all to stay calm.
The search only lasted a few minutes, though it felt like so much longer.
In the end, it was Shiro himself who found him first.
Lance had been far from the epicenter, but close enough that he was hit with the blast as it radiated out. He had been facing away when the explosion occurred, perhaps starting to run from it. It had thrown him forward, face first into a low wall. His helmet and armor had protected him for the most part, but, as Shiro discovered with a quick scan, the impact had caused his jaw to slam shut on his tongue.
Lance was laying on the rubble strewn ground with blood freely dripping down his chin.
“Lance, let me see, let me see,” Shiro coaxed him to lower his face shield and open his mouth. Lance kept his eyes screwed shut as he shook his head.
"'M fum. Am fum." More blood ran out between his lips.
"What?" Pidge had come stumbling up behind Shiro and was running a scan of her own. Lance repeated his words, wincing at the pain.
"Dude, are you saying you're fine?" Hunk was there now, out of breath and leaning in, trying to get to his friend.
Lance hummed and grimaced in response as more red ran out between his teeth.
"Lance, no." Pidge leaned down, showing her scan to Hunk.
"I’m 'kay." Lance forced out with a gurgling cough building in his throat.
"Lance, your-” Pidge broke off and turned to Shiro, “his tongue is partially severed.”
Shiro had gathered that from his own scan, but he couldn’t tell how bad it really was. He had hoped he had read the scan wrong.
“Alright, alright, We’ll get you to a pod, it’s going to be fine.” Shiro put his hand on Lance’s shoulder and squeezed. He was trying to move Lance into a recovery position, worrying about the boy choking on his own blood.
Lance was shaking his head.
"You don't want the pod?" Hunk guessed.
"Lance, you-" Shiro swallowed. "You need the pod."
"My fah." Lance’s eyes fluttered open and he found Hunk’s gaze. Lance tapped his chest plate. "My fah."
"Your fault?" Hunk guessed, his voice coming out choked, because Lance was bleeding everywhere and the idea of the injury was sending Hunk’s stomach reeling.
Lance coughed. He sputtered out more blood as his eyes widened in panic. There was too much pain and too much blood, he could feel his mouth filling with it. He felt his vision tunneling as his head swam. He wondered if he was going to pass out.
"I don't think-" Pidge's voice sounded far away. "Shiro, his airway."
Rough hands were on him, forcing him into a sitting position, maneuvering him forward, with his head between his knees. He watched the dirt in front of him turn red.
He wanted to say something, but there was pain and his tongue felt wrong, half of it hanging uselessly as blood poured out from his mouth.
He groaned and shut his eyes.
"Lance," Shiro's voice was in his ear, "stay calm." Shiro breathed in and out through his nose, it sounded forced. "We are going to get you help right now."
Weren't there others that needed help more than him? There had been an explosion after all.
They were talking loudly above his head.
Though maybe it was only him. The area had seemed clear of civilians. That was good. Nobody else had been hurt.
"We're moving."
It was all the warning he got before Shiro lifted him from the ground. Lance protested with a high pitched whine before dribbling blood down Shiro's armor.
"I've got you."
Shiro doesn’t seem to mind the blood. It was Lance’s last thought before his world turned fuzzy and faded out.
Fainted?
Lance typed it out slowly on the tablet Pidge was holding up for him.
Pidge glanced at the screen before giving a shrug. "Kind of? You looked awake sometimes, but it seemed like you went into shock."
Lance blinked sluggishly. He had been given a painkiller upon arrival to the infirmary and was stretched out on the exam table, mind swimming through a haze.
Pidge had run to grab a tablet with an English text capability and was holding it up so Lance could communicate with them all. It was slow going as Lance's fingers dragged across the touch keyboard.
Hunk was sitting nearby, looking a bit woozy himself. He had managed not to throw up at the blood that streamed out of Lance’s mouth or at the discovery that Lance had bitten through a part of his tongue. He had become pale and gone quiet once they got to the infirmary, but he had held it together so far. As soon as Lance was settled, Hunk had collapsed into a nearby chair, hunched over and begun to breathe, willing his stomach to settle.
Lance stared away in the middle distance before motioning for the tablet to be brought close again.
Can't feel my face
"Coran numbed it," Pidge explained after glancing down at the screen.
Lance reached up to touch his lips, but Pidge grabbed his fingers.
"Don't," she warned. She dropped Lance’s hand then and picked up a soft towel that was waiting by his chin. Gently, she dabbed at the bloody spit leaking from the corner of his mouth. Lance twisted his fingers together, fidgeting.
"Alright, my boy," Coran spoke loudly, drawing Lance's hazy attention to him. "I'm told humans would stitch such an injury, but I am going to use some sealant to keep your tongue in place and then you'll be off to the pod and everything should heal up just fine."
Lance's hand collided with the tablet as he worked to type out a response.
Pod too long. Its fine.
There was a moment of silence. Shiro shifted from one foot to the other.
"Ah, My lad, I admire your work ethic, but this is not something that will heal easily or quickly on its own."
Lance's fingers hovered over the keyboard, but tears sprang to his eyes and he shook his head.
"So'eh." Lance forced out the syllables. "So'ee."
"Sorry," Hunk breathed out the translation. He glanced up from his huddled position. "It's okay. You don't need to be sorry."
No pod, Lance typed out with shaking fingers.
"Lance-" Shiro halted as Lance continued typing.
I can handle it
They all leaned forward to read the words at the same time.
Coran gave Shiro a pointed look.
Shiro could hear his own words echoing in his head. He had been so intent on handling his own injury alone….
He hadn't been exactly a good example. And, though Lance had seemed okay after a while, Shiro had never sat down to talk with him, really talk with him.
Once Shiro was healed, once he had regained his sense of smell. Lance had seemed to feel better too.
He'd never found a moment to thank him for the blanket.
"Lance," and Shiro was surprised with how quiet his voice had gone. "Don't-," be like me, "You don't have to put yourself through pain when you don't have to."
Shiro's eyes darted to Coran, he caught the gentle, proud smile there, before he looked back to Lance.
Lance who had blood sluggishly dripping from the corner of his mouth and was looking at him with such admiration and maybe a little fear too.
He doesn’t want to disappoint you.
Shiro had accomplished much in his life and he knew that he had many who looked up to him. But he didn't realize how much that meant. To idolize someone, to follow their example, if you were young and scared and so far from home…
Shiro should have realized how his behavior would weigh on Lance, how the boy would try to copy him.
"Lance," Shiro continued, "let us help you." Shiro swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Please."
Lance hesitated.
He blinked to clear moisture from his eyes and glanced at Coran. The Altean smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Lance's eyes went to the tablet and with shaky fingers he typed two letters.
OK
The room let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," Shiro breathed. A hand landed on his shoulder, and Shiro looked up to meet Coran’s eyes.
The Altean nodded, but said nothing. He then turned to Lance with a large grin in place. “Alright, my boy. Before you go into the pod, we do have to adhere everything together.” Coran motioned to his mouth, “You shouldn’t feel any pain, but it might be uncomfortable.” He set a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.”
Lance's fingers found the tablet again.
Ready
Coran was going to use an Altean medical adhesive to secure the partially severed tongue back in place. It wasn’t going to take long, but it was stressful, scary.
“Do you need someone to hold you still or can you manage it?” Coran asked, not unkindly. Lance’s eyes were wide and Shiro took an involuntary step back. He couldn’t hold Lance down, if that’s what was needed. He wouldn’t be able to do it. He was only just starting to really be able to ground himself, but holding someone down during a procedure? Even if it was to help, even if it wouldn’t hurt because Coran would be careful…
Shiro stepped further away.
I can do it. Lance typed out.
Shiro sighed in relief. Lance continued typing, causing Shiro to hold his breath again.
Lance was blushing when they all read the words on the screen.
But can someone hold my hand
“Of course!” Hunk stepped forward. He picked up Lance’s hand, but looked away. “I mean I don’t know if I can watch, but I’ll be right here.”
It turned out that Lance had a rotation of people holding both hands.
When it was Shiro’s turn, he forced himself to stay steady as he gave the boy’s fingers a squeeze. “You’re doing great, buddy,” Shiro encouraged.
Lance was true to his word, he wasn’t moving, but his eyes did flicker to Shiro. Shiro forced himself to hold eye contact. Coran was working on his mouth, aligning his tongue back together slowly, delicately. He had little tools that looked like something that might be at a dentist’s office and the adhesive was a clear substance that Coran had on a table nearby. He spoke as he worked. Words of encouragement and praise for Lance for being so brave.
It was done with so much care.
Shiro didn’t think he had ever seen someone work with such attentiveness. He glanced around the room, to Hunk and Pidge standing close, to Keith who had arrived late and was standing in the back of the room. Trying not to hover, but keeping watch over them.
This was the opposite of Shiro’s time with the Galra, and it wasn’t like any medical procedure he’d had on Earth.
This was a work of love.
Lance’s fingers tightened, Shiro squeezed back.
“You’re okay, Lance. Everyone is okay,” Shiro muttered.
Lance shut his eyes, he trusted them.
Shiro exhaled.
Lance had gone into the pod without incident, though the silence was unnerving. Lance wasn't allowed to try and speak and the room felt too quiet as he stepped into the pod.
Once Lance was in the pod, Coran stepped to Shiro’s side.
“How are we feeling, number one?”
Shiro snorted. “Exhausted,” He answered honestly.
Coran smiled and put an arm around his shoulders.
“You did really well.”
Shiro was embarrassed by the compliment. Embarrassed that it seemed a juvenile thing to say and that it did make him feel better. Warmer and calmer than before.
“Thank you,” Shiro whispered. The Altean squeezed his shoulder.
“Of course.”
Shiro shifted under Coran’s hold and the man released him immediately, always careful to never crowd Shiro for too long.
“Coran,” Shiro started. He glanced over to make sure Hunk and Pidge were occupied in conversation before continuing. “I feel like... If I did want to know more about my old injuries- not right now- but some other time maybe. If I felt like I needed to know.” Shiro flexed his fingers, fidgeting. “Would that be okay?”
He looked up to see Coran staring. The Altean blinked before he began nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, whatever you need to know. It’s yours, Shiro.”
Shiro felt his shoulders drop with his exhale. He hadn’t known if he wanted to know before, worrying about delving into memories that were too dark. But now, now he felt like he could possibly face it.
When he was ready.
“Thank you,” Shiro said again.
Coran smiled, with something like pride in his eyes. “You’re very welcome.”
Shiro waited to talk with Lance. He waited until after Lance was out of the pod, healed, smiling and speaking with them all again. He wasn’t avoiding it, just waiting for the perfect moment. Which turned out to be before dinner the night that he got out of the pod.
Shiro had gotten into the habit of stopping by the kitchen and allowing Hunk and Pidge to give him new things to smell. His sense of smell had returned, but Pidge’s experiment seemed to continue anyway. Shiro enjoyed being with them and operation smell-a-scent hadn’t been invasive or made him uncomfortable at any point. They all cared so much, it was almost overwhelming at times.
And yet.
He was surprised to find that he was getting used to being looked after.
Also, Hunk was using their kitchen sessions to try and teach Shiro to cook.
“You have to keep stirring,” Hunk instructed. Shiro nodded and continued moving his spoon through sauce at an uneven pace. He was about to ask if he was doing it right when Lance strolled into the kitchen.
“Special dinner for me?” Lance asked with a wide grin. It was known that Hunk tried to make big dinners when people were healed from being in the pod. Shiro figured it was sort of a way to celebrate that everyone was alright.
“Spaghetti,” Hunk announced. Lance smiled and began poking around the collection of spices on the counter. He was commenting on how good the kitchen smelled when Hunk glanced between Lance and Shiro and cleared his throat, gaining the attention of Pidge who had been sitting on the counter with her laptop.
“I forgot something in the supply room. Pidge, come help me find the right seasoning.”
Pidge had caught the tone and she hopped off the counter, even though she looked a little confused.
Shiro stirred as he watched them walk away. Though it was now only Shiro and Lance in the room, Lance continued commenting on the different spices they were using.
“This one looks like confetti, can we really eat this?”
Shiro shrugged. It was good to hear Lance speaking without any sign of distress or pain. Coran had made sure Lance was completely healed before leaving the pod. He did not want him to have any lingering discomfort.
“Lance,” Shiro turned away from the stove and took a deep breath. Lance stopped his soliloquy on alien food spices and gave Shiro his full attention though he seemed nervous, as though awaiting a reprimand.
“I wanted to say thank you.” Shiro gestured broadly, “For everything, for the soaps and for the blanket.”
Lance scratched the back of his head, Shiro recognized the action as his own, and realized Lance must have picked up the habit from being around him. “It was really a group effort, Shiro.”
“I know, but I know a lot of that had to have been your idea.” Shiro shrugged, “I know Keith doesn’t use shampoo with a lot of fragrance and I didn’t think Hunk or Pidge would think of infusing a blanket. So thank you.”
Lance looked flustered at the gratitude, but he nodded. “You’re welcome, Shiro, it was the least I could do after-”
He held up his hand. “Stop right there. Lance,” and Shiro’s expression turned serious. “You did not do anything wrong.” Shiro’s eyes softened. “It was not your fault, none of it.”
Lance knew that. Of course he knew that. Coran had said so. And he had felt better lately. But there was still that little bit of him that felt bad. And then he had gotten hurt and all he could think of was how Shiro had been hurt and tried to keep going anyway. And Lance still felt so guilty, for not taking a shot, for not protecting him.
“I was wrong.”
Lance looked up at that, eyes wide. “Shiro?”
“I was wrong to try to downplay my injury. That was dangerous and irresponsible of me.”
Lance’s mouth fell open. “Shiro, you’re not- you’re a good leader. You’re not-” Lance stammered.
“I make mistakes. I make mistakes all the time. But when that happens, I need to do my best to make reconciliations. I should have talked to you earlier. I am sorry for everything that happened. And I’m sorry for making you worry, it… wasn’t kind.”
“Shiro,” Lance wanted to argue, he wanted to tell Shiro that he had nothing to apologize for, but this felt like something Shiro needed to have acknowledged. Lance bit his lip. “I forgive you, of course I do, but I never blamed you, I never blamed you for anything either, so,” Lance gathered his thoughts, “You’re good, Shiro. And kind too. Maybe we just both need to do our best and keep moving forward.”
Shiro smiled, realizing Lance sounded like Coran and he was glad that the boy had someone like that looking out for him out here.
“That sounds good to me,” Shiro smiled. There was a beat of silence before an acrid smell reached Shiro’s nose. Horrified, Shiro turned to the pot on the stove he had stopped stirring long ago. Panicking, Shiro took up his spoon and tried to salvage it. Smoke began billowing from the blackening sauce. The smell only grew worse. Lance lurched forward and turned the stove off completely. Shiro was about to thank him when Hunk came rushing into the kitchen with Keith and Pidge on his heels.
Hunk quickly began trying to salvage the situation, but the sauce was lost.
“I told you he shouldn’t be left alone with it,” Keith mumbled to Hunk. It dawned on Shiro that the three of them might have been lingering in the hallway, giving Lance and him time to talk.
“Sorry, Hunk,” Shiro smiled sheepishly. “Can I help you remake it?”
Hunk waved his hands in the air, “Yeah, we can do it again, no problem.”
“I’ll help!” Lance chimed in, bumping his arm against Shiro’s. “We’ve got this. Right, Shiro?”
Shiro smiled.
“Right.”
Soon the sauce was remade and the meal was put together beautifully. Shiro inhaled deeply through his nose.
“It smells amazing,” he commented with little thought. When he looked around, he realized they were all staring, looking pleased. It was such a simple thing, such a simple thing to be so happy about.
Keith bumped his elbow, smiling.
“That’s great, Shiro.”
Such a simple thing.
“Thank you,” Shiro whispered.
Smiling, they all settled down to have dinner together. He felt warmth, as though he could feel the concern and love of his team around him. Maybe it wasn’t such a simple thing. Maybe it was a big thing. To be able to go through so much and then still find a safe place.
Shiro breathed in.
It smelled like home.
The End