Chapter Text
Time passed slowly as Lance entered in the dungeon, his footsteps loud in the dismal silence. The whole design of the room had his instincts screaming ‘danger danger turn back now you idiot’. But Lance didn’t listen to those silly instincts. This was the home of the immortal dragon lord, and Lance had come to far to give up now. He was going to slay this thing, even if it killed him. Which it hopefully didn’t. That would kind of ruin the whole thing. But he knew what he meant. This was his final battle, and he was going to go all out.
A roar echoed through the dungeon, shaking the ancient pillar with its tremors. Lance glanced around, trying to find the source. He was alone in this, and so it was up to him to be vigilant. He stilled when he saw movement. Yellow sparks glinted in the darkness as the beast awoke from its centuries old slumber. The ground quaked under it’s immense legs as it rose. The beast slithered forward into the light of the torches, licking its rotting teeth menacingly as it eyed its prey.
Lance stared forward, eyes narrowed as he took in the brute of a dragon before him. It was the largest he had ever seen, with two pairs of scaly wings that looked alot like butterfly wings if they were just a little more demonic, and eyes that shone like lanterns from under the skull mask that all these creatures seem to wear. Lance eyed the accessory critically. Man, dragons must be ugly quiznackers if they felt the need to hide their faces behind freaking skulls.
Well, what it lacked in self confidence, the creature made up for in strength. Lance fought hard and long, and time passed with the clash of metal on scale and the crackles of flames. Minutes pass at an agonisingly slow speed, but eventually the battle was nearing its end. Lance was barely holding on in his fight against it. Thankfully, the dragon wasn’t doing so good itself. It was on the point of death. Just a few more hits and it would down for the count. With an agile motion, the hero’s sword sliced down effortlessly through the air. The dragon recoiled when the hit struck true. The beeping of a low health bar trickled into the fast paced music that echoed through Lance’s room.
“Ah ha! take that, you fiendish reptile,” Lance crowed, raising the controller up in triumph. He shuffled excitedly in his seat.
Okay, just one more hit would do it. He clicked down on the controller, and his third hero hit the beast with a spell. The dragon dodged it effortlessly. Lance’s shoulders sagged.
“C’mon, no, that’s not fair,” he shouted at the screen.
When he saw the words FINAL INFERNO pop up at the bottom of the screen, he bowed his head in defeat. There was no way his heroes would survive that. Sure enough, when he glanced up, GAME OVER blared in red across the screen, and three little graves were established in the place of his heroes. Lance fell back onto the ground and sighed. He’d been so close to completing the game. Hell, he had even given the heroes nicknames in his head. Now he had to mourn the loss of poor Yadda-Yadda-Yadira, Knighty-Knight and Hunky-Dory. They would be missed. And so would Lance’s chances of being able to lord over the others his awesome gaming skills. Damn. Matt still had bragging rights, then. Lance scowled petulantly. Okay, he just had to try again. Lance was nothing if not stubborn.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted his plotting. Huh, weird. It was pretty late - well, early, if the Altean clock on Lance’s wall was anything to go by - so to have someone knock at his door was kind of surprising. Also, given the fact that there was only Shiro, Coran and him on the Castle at the moment didn’t exactly leave him expecting any visitors. Hunk, Pidge, Lotor and Allura had all gone to Zarkon’s ship to scour through Haggar’s records for any more information on Oriande, because their trip there had barely scratched the surface on the secrets that hid in that place. Lance had wanted to go and help with the search, but the others had asked him instead to go on an assignment to a planet not to far from Zarkon’s ship.
It was a diplomatic operation, but given that even Allura - the bona fide diplomat on the team - had left to go with the others made it feel more like a pity mission to keep Lance and Shiro interested whilst the others were away doing magical technology stuff. Coran had just stuck around to drive the Castle and, more importantly, to make sure Lance didn’t destroy the ship whilst the others were away, which everyone agree had a high chance of happening, much to Lance’s grumbles of disagreement. If he did destroy the ship, it would be entirely by accident, okay. Coran had merely patted him on the shoulder in understanding, and affirmed that was exactly why he had to stay. So, thanks to that vote of confidence by the others before they left, it was either Shiro or Coran at the door; two people who rarely sought out Lance unless it was something to do with chores or being an idiot on a mission. Or both. Lance rolled over onto his stomach and stood up.
“Who’s there?” he called with a smirk. He might as well make a game of it.
“Lance?” the familiar voice asked.
“‘Lance’ who?”
“Lance!” the voice repeated more forcefully, knocking at the door with the same force.
The Red Paladin quirked an eyebrow. “‘Lance Lance’? Pfft. That’s not very funny.”
“Lance, p-please, this is serious.”
Lance went to say ‘hello Serious, this is Lance’ but the desperate tone of the voice stopped him. That was definitely not fake. He knew when not to joke, and it seemed now was certainly not the time. Sobering up, Lance waved a hand. The door unlocked at the motion and then opened without preamble, parting to show a sweating and quivering Shiro standing - or more accurately, wobbling - before him. Lance blinked and took a step back in shock. The Black Paladin looked like the definition of hell, with bags as dark as his armour painting the skin under his eyes, with his breaths coming in and out harshly.
“Shiro. Holy Crow! What the hell happened to you?” Lance asked in a rush. He’d seen Shiro messed up before, sure, but this was the worst the man had ever looked.
Shiro shook his head, eyes staring out into some unseen distance. “We...we need to talk. Somewhere private. S-she...she’s listening.”
Lance peered down the hall in both directions, but didn’t see anyone. The halls were - as he expected - completely empty, save for the two of them. Was Shiro hallucinating? And who was ‘she’? Lance bit his lip, unsure if he should play along with Shiro’s delusions. Keith was the one who normally helped Shiro through all of this and, on occasion, Hunk. But neither of them were here at the moment, and Lance was the person Shiro had sought instead of Coran, so he would have to try his best. Lance raised his left hand up and placed on Shiro’s shoulder in a comforting manner.
“Who’s listening, Shiro?” he asked placatingly.
Shiro widened his eyes, and shook his head more fervently than before. “No, n-no, we need to get....get somewhere safe. So she can’t hear.”
Shiro’s prosthetic reached forward and gripped Lance’s hand before he could protest. The Black Paladin pulled Lance away from his room and into the halls. Shiro led Lance wildly through the Castle, eyes snapping down every dark corridor like danger lay waiting there, ready to strike. Despite the lack of choice in the matter, Lance went along willingly. Though concern did drive Lance’s steps forward to keep up with Shiro's quick gait, curiosity also played a part. He really wanted to find out what Shiro was going on about. Ever since Lotor joined the team, Shiro had been weird. Like, really weird; all blunt and harsh, never listening to their ideas, always ready to shout at them. Lance had put it down to stress at first, but then Shiro had confided in him about not feeling right. And the whole mind meld thing had been weird too; Lance still couldn’t figure out why the Black Paladin had been calling for him. After that, even Shiro himself had seemed to sense that, on some level, something was wrong with him. So, Lance didn’t try to distract Shiro from his quest for a safe space. Maybe this would finally get Lance some answers.
After a walk that sent them into the more distant and secluded parts of the Castle, Shiro finally slowed down and stopped at a door. It opened to show a large, elongated room. Lance gazed around, frowning. He recognised this place.
“The detainment room?” he asked. Shiro didn’t reply, pulling himself and Lance forward into the room. The lock clicked as the door shut behind them, closing them in the room.
Lance's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. This is what Shiro classified as a ‘safe place’? This place was freaking creepy, that’s what it was. The empty pods were eerie to say the least, and Lance remembered quite clearly how frantic Shiro had been after he had sent Sendak off in one of those. The detainment room wasn’t a haven of good memories or well-meaning interior design. So, why bring him here to talk? Lance turned his head to look up at Shiro, who was staring at the door as if a hoard of sentries were barging against it and threatening to break in and kill them both. The man looked freaked, his grip around Lance’s wrist so tight it was beginning to hurt. Lance pulled against it.
“Shiro, can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re scaring me, man,” Lance implored.
Shiro glanced at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. Even though his eyes kept returning to Lance, they were unruly, flicking to and fro in rhythm to his distressed breathing. “Lance. She’s....she’s in my head. She...she wants you gone. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to tell you the truth. I’m so sorry, Lance.”
Lance’s heart thudded loud in his chest. “Who is ‘she’? W-why does-...what’s going on?!”
He wrestled against Shiro’s grip, but all he managed to do was exert himself. Shiro would not let him go. An abrupt ripple surged through Shiro’s body, and the action caused the metal fingers to entwined further around Lance's wrist. Lance was too focused on Shiro too care. Shiro was shivering violently, eyes scrunched so tight they made the scar on his nose twist and bend. And then it stopped, and the Black Paladin was completely still. Lance didn’t have a moment to ask about the sudden change before Shiro starting drawing in a harsh and protracted breath. Like someone caught in a cocoon of pitch, Shiro turned his face to Lance. The desperation from before was gone. His countenance was completely blank of any emotion. Lance stopped in his struggle, and gazed at his unrecognisable leader.
“Shiro?”
Shiro’s prosthetic wrenched upwards without warning, and Lance screamed as he felt the bone in his arm snap. Electricity shot up through his flesh, leaving him shuddering as pain rolled through his body without mercy. Red tinted everything, and his lungs would not let him breathe. He didn’t get any relief from the pain, unfortunately, for Shiro’s hand was still wrapped tightly around the broken wrist. Purple fire began burning the skin remorselessly. Lance felt tears spill out of eyes as waves of pain blurred the world around him. But despite it all, he saw - clear as day - yellow eyes watching him from where Shiro’s gray ones should be.
“I see you’re trying to fight me,” Shiro said in a voice that wasn’t his. Lance’s eyes widened when he recognised that gravelly voice. Lance gulped through the pain, managing to bit out her name.
“Haggar.”
Shiro tutted. “Bad Black Paladin. You should have stayed in the comforts of the Astral Plane, and left me to my work. Now look what you’ve made me do.”
Shiro raised Lance further off the ground, as if he was trophy. Lance whimpered as the pain flared all the more with the movement. Despite how much he wanted to, he didn’t reply to taunt. He knew it wasn’t him that Haggar was speaking to.
“This Paladin has been a nuisance of late,” Shiro - no, Haggar - pondered aloud. “It would be beneficial to me if he was disposed of.”
Lance felt his heart stop. Dispose? Wait, wait, what? Was she going to kill him? No, no, she couldn’t. Not when it was Shiro who she was making do it. Lance was not going to let the witch use Shiro to kill him just so she could leave his friend guilt ridden. Besides, if Lance was going to go down, he was going down in a blaze of glory. He flung his free arm forward in a weak attempt to escape. His whole body protested against the movement, already in agony from being dangled by his broken arm. Lance growled as he kept trying and trying, but to no avail. Damn Shiro and his long arms.
Haggar smiled as she turned her attention to Lance. The distorted expression didn’t fit Shiro’s face. “How amusing. And pathetic. Don’t worry, Paladin; I’m not going to kill you. I know much better torments than death.”
That statement was not in the least soothing. A shiver of fear ran through Lance, sending his stomach coiling up tight inside his stomach. Pain blinded him as Haggar moved forward, causing Lance to swing to and fro in her grip, which hurt beyond measure. His surroundings faded in and out like vignettes of agony. When the world bled back through and managed to remain, Lance found himself with a wall pressed against his back, and blue glass surrounding him. Shiro stood on the other side with yellow eyes, both hands raised. Purple light spilled out each hand. The feeling of water at Lance’s feet sent his heart racing out of control. What the hell? Why was there water? Oh god, what was Haggar doing to the pod? Lance hastily observed his enclosed surroundings, finding nothing that appeared to be an exit. He had to get out of here. He lurched forward, hitting his uninjured hand against the glass. It didn’t even crack, and he pull his hand back with a hiss. His eyes met with Shiro’s, but all he could see was Haggar.
“Shiro,” he gasped out. “Please, you have to fight her.”
Haggar laughed, a horrible imitation of joy. “He can’t hear you. He has left you to hide away in his mind. You humans; the facade of strength your species wear does little in the face of that single truth; that you are weak, and only you are too ignorant to see it. All so blind, that your friends could not even see your leader faltering under my will. Only you, it seems, ever thought to question it. But, none will ever know of your findings. Your removal will go as unnoticed as the Black Paladin’s weakness.”
“They’ll stop you,” Lance growled back harshly, hitting the glass again with the dwindling vestige of his strength. His stupid broken arm wasn’t really helping matters, and the cooling air around him was causing the blisters on the skin to sting like crazy.
“I doubt that,” Haggar replied, hands still raised forwards and poisoning the blue of the pod with her magic. The water darkened to purple as it reached Lance’s knees, and Haggar gazed at it victoriously. “This pod will not be missed, nor will it be found. Not by your Lion or your friends. Your leader will not remember a thing, and he shall remain my dutiful puppet. He and the others shall weep, but they’ll move on and replace you. Then Voltron will fall apart under my guidance.”
“No!” Lance screamed in rage at her, baring his teeth. He slammed his fist against the glass again. Haggar only pulled Shiro’s mouth up in an amused grin, and continue on with her work.
No, no, this could not be happening. This could not be frigging happening! He knew Shiro had not been himself, but not that he had been freaking possessed! Lance looked frantically to the door at the far end of the room. In his imagination, he saw the others slamming through those doors, action movie style, and saving him, putting an end right here and now to Haggar’s schemes. He wished they would, so, so much. But they weren’t here. Instead, they were off on a mission that they decided he was unnecessary for. They were completely ignorant of Lance’s dilemma, and they would not return to the Castle until it was too late. But there was someone who was on this ship.
“Coran! Coran!” he yelled miserably.
“He can’t hear you,” Haggar said. “This room is too far from the flight deck for even his Altean ears to be able to hear your incessant whining.”
Lance snapped his eyes to the witch in horror. But, Shiro had been the one that lead them here. Had...had that not been Shiro? Or had Haggar been controlling him the whole time without either of them knowing? Lance gazed into Shiro’s yellow eyes. The man wouldn’t willingly do this, would he? Lance didn’t know anymore. How much of Shiro was even really him? How long had he’d been Haggar’s puppet?
Tears sprung up and burned Lance’s eyes as they dripped down into the purple water. It was at his shoulders now. There was really no getting out of this, was there. He was beginning to wish these cryo chambers were like the healing pods. He would take instantaneous freezing over this agonisingly slow process any day.
“Please, just stop, please, ” he entreated, with less anger than before. The pain was wearing him down, and he couldn’t keep up his fury anymore.
“As I said, pathetic,” Haggar replied monotonously.
Lance gritted his teeth, and glanced down at the rising water. It was way too close. He raised his head as the water lapped at his chin. Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod . It continued to rise despite his frantic attempts to keep himself above it. The ceiling of the pod finally put a stop to his struggle, leaving him with nowhere to go. The ever encroaching fluid continued upwards. Lance took in a deep gulp of air just before the water passed over his head and filled the cryo chamber completely, leaving him hanging in suspension in the liquid. He floated there, feeling the water turn cold around him. Haggar watched him, never blinking even as a minute passed. And then another. And another. Lance had always been pretty good at holding his breath, but even he could not hold it forever. His vision blurred as his felt his head go light headed.
Lance's eyelids drooped down as consciousness began to fade away. The water was freezing now. He knew what that meant; soon he would be a Lance popsicle. If he was in the mood, he might have laughed at that. Instead, he peered out through his lashes at Shiro’s form. The purple tint of the icy water couldn’t hide the yellow of Shiro’s eyes. He was glad for them, actually. They were the only thing that distinguished the man before him from the real Shiro. Lance didn’t want to blame Shiro for this. This was all Haggar.
Haggar forced Shiro’s hand towards the eject button beside the pod. Even with his foggy mind, Lance still heard her voice ring through his ears.
“If we ever meet again, I will be glad to see the understanding in your eyes of how cruel time can be. For now, farewell Paladin.”
Lance glared weakly at her, this last piece of strength of his fueled entirely by hatred. When his friends found him - and they would - he was going to freaking slice her to pieces for ever controlling Shiro like this. She would regret ever letting him live, that he swore. Reluctantly, Lance closed his eyes, to weak to keep them open any longer. As he drifted away, he let the images of his friends and family be his last thought before the water around him turned to purple ice, and he was sent into the endless realm of space.