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If Allura was being honest with herself, she would have had to say that she was truly surprised that all of the Paladins had made it back to the castleship alive. She didn’t want to think that way, but it was true.
Alive, perhaps, but not unharmed. All it took was a glance around the room to know that.
After fights like this one, the team tended to be averse to being alone. Even Keith was still in the common room with the rest of them, although that might have been because the concussion made it hard to walk all the way back to his room on his own. A few ticks in a healing pod would have fixed him right up, but the castleship was still on low power even after Coran, Pidge, Hunk’s emergency repairs. Minimum emergency repairs, since Hunk could barely stand and Pidge could barely see.
Allura herself was feeling the effects of moving the castleship so far so quickly, but they were all alive and seemed inclined to stay that way, so she was willing to take it. So she just sat quietly to the side and watched her Paladins piece each other back together.
Most of Lance’s bruises were hidden under his clothes, but he still moved as if he had been thrown across a room and into a wall – which he had. Despite the stiffness, he still worked, concentrating on applying butterfly bandages and salve and other things he’d found in the first aid kit to Pidge’s face, slowly covering the cuts and scrapes and burns left from when the computer terminal had exploded in the Galra’s last-ditch attempt to stop them from getting information. The Green Paladin sat stone-still, pale but unmoving, and let him do what he needed to.
Keith lay on the couch beside them, eyes closed and very carefully not moving. The concussion wasn’t life-threatening, but it was still bad enough that even he paid attention to it. He had one foot pressed to Lance’s less-bruised leg, keeping them both grounded, while his head lay in Hunk’s lap, where the blast injuries hadn’t reached. The Yellow Paladin was also still, one hand lying lightly on the Red’s shoulder and keeping his half-open eyes on the rest of the team. His heavy armor had probably saved his life, but there was only so much it could do against a direct shot from a laser gun. But he was alive, and although he couldn’t move very well, he seemed determined to stay awake and aware until he could guarantee himself that the others would be all right.
The long cut across Shiro’s chest meant that he couldn’t wear a shirt while they waited for the pods to be rebooted, so the Black Paladin sat stiffly in a chair, trying not to move too much. The bandages covered some, but enough was bared to reveal the multitude of scars branding his skin. He had seemed even more nervous about the scars than pain from the wound, but the rest of Voltron said nothing about the marks, only concerned with making sure that their leader and friend was all right. Before sitting down, Hunk had helped him wrap bandages around what they could, moving slowly and calmly to avoid startling the Black Paladin; also probably because fast movement was not something either of them were quite capable of at that point.
They were hurt, but they had survived. They had all made it back to her again, and for that Allura could do nothing but sit and watch and thank the stars for returning her Paladins to her once again. They were injured, but injuries could heal. At this point, Allura was willing to take what she could get. She would do all she could to protect them, and knew that they were each doing their best, fighting to save the universe and each other. As long as they came back, as long as they returned to her, they could heal. They would all heal.