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Pidge isn’t feeling very well. To be specific, she had a shutdown earlier. Their latest battle as Voltron was very stressful for the entire team, and totally overwhelmed Pidge. She fell over the moment she landed the Green Lion back in the Castle, and curled up in a ball, totally vacant and spaced out. Hunk has seen her have shutdowns before, but it was still stressful to watch. Pidge never likes to be touched when she is having a shutdown, so they left her in the hangar. But Hunk sat beside her, not wanting to leave Pidge alone.
After an hour, Pidge started to come out of the shutdown. She looked groggy and vacant and immediately hugged Hunk. She also couldn’t speak. Hunk helped her walk to her bedroom, where she collapsed on the bed and curled up under the blankets. And he sat on the end of her bed just like last time this happened, watching her look so sick and sad and wishing he could make her feel better.
That was an hour ago. Pidge looks a lot better, but she still can’t talk. It’s normal for her to struggle with speaking for up to a day after a shutdown. Hunk is still sat on the end of her bed, keeping his girlfriend company as she struggles with one of the few parts of her autism she doesn’t like (because, contrary to popular opinion, she doesn’t hate her autism and wish she wasn’t like that; she loves being autistic, and only a few things, like the shutdowns, annoy Pidge).
Pidge is curled up on her side, knees hugged to her chest. She looks at Hunk, smiling weakly.
“Feeling any better?” he asks.
She shrugs her shoulders. Remembering their routine, Hunk reaches for her phone and hands it to her. Pidge smiles and unlocks her phone, opening her AAC app. Basically, it’s an app that, when she types in what she wants to say, will speak for her. According to Pidge, she used to have a tablet for this purpose when she was younger, but when she joined the Garrison, she used a phone app instead. The app talks in a funny, robotic voice, and it always makes Pidge giggle.
She types something, and her phone says, I’m not feeling very good. But I’m better than earlier. I felt so awful earlier, Hunk.
Hunk smiles sadly. “I know. I wish you didn’t have to go through this sort of thing.”
Pidge reaches for his hand and interlocks their fingers. Her typing is slower with only one hand, but she still gets her phone to say, Thanks. And thanks for looking after me.
“No problem,” he says. “Would you like a hug?”
Pidge grins. I would love a hug.
That is good news for two reasons: one, because wanting physical contact again means that Pidge is feeling better, and two, because he loves hugs.
And so Hunk shuffles up the bed and sits beside Pidge. She shuffles into a half-upright position and leans against him, putting an arm around his back. She leans her forehead against his shoulder and he wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on her head and feeling her messy hair tickle his skin.
He smiles. “I love you, Pidge.”
She isn’t holding her phone, so Pidge has no way to reply. But she doesn’t need to. Because as she nuzzles her forehead into his shoulder and leans against him, Hunk knows his love for her is totally reciprocated.