Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life without the castle was strange, but, looking around their little campsite, Shiro realized that they were finally settling into a routine. The planet they were stationed on had a longer day than Earth or the artificial days they’d set on the castle, but the extra hours felt like the middle of summer, and made their campfires seem all the more homey. Nevertheless, life without the castle also meant he had twice as much to get used to.

Coming back to his body had been weird enough— he was still sifting through the years worth of memories that, even though he’d known them partially while in the astral plane, he still couldn’t seem to made sense of. But the team had been a big help. Keith was hovering, of course, but he and Krolia were eager ears and hands when he needed assistance. Pidge and Hunk were already designing a new prosthetic for him, and everyone seemed willing to lend a hand when he was short one. It made things easier; though that didn’t mean they weren’t still hard.

He didn’t really know what to do with himself as a member of the team. Sometimes he felt awkward talking to them. He could feel his present aligning with past conversations someone else had had in his body. It was jarring and, two weeks back with himself, it still threw him for a loop. The others kept telling him to take his time, but his time being taken was the problem in the first place.

Nevertheless, he tried to slow down. He trained with Keith and the others in the mornings, gentle sparring sessions, and made it to communal meals, but other than that, he let his time be empty. He floated around the campsite, visiting with the others. He wandered  around, exploring the planet and bringing things back for Coran, who had started cataloging the wildlife in the places they stopped. One day he found a small river and just skipped rocks for an hour. And the weirdest thing was, it seemed to work. The more time he spent with himself, the more he started to feel like himself. The more he used his legs, his hand, the more they felt like his.

Which is probably why he finally noticed the things that were off.

At first glance, looking around the campfire, it seemed like the team was as they always were: Shiro was sharing a log with Krolia and Keith was on the ground in front of them feeding scraps to his wolf. Allura and Coran were talking with Romelle on another log, and the Garrison trio was on the last one, Hunk and Pidge leaning together while Lance sat on the ground, leaning against their legs. But, unlike meals on the castle, meals around the fire had been quiet, and it seemed to boil down to the standing Red Paladin’s sudden lack of verve. Even looking across the fire at Lance, he seemed withdrawn. He was curled in on himself, legs pulled up to his chest. Shiro watched for a moment, startling when Lance looked in his direction. The other boy’s eyes went wide, before he stiffened, turning away and tucking his face into his knees.

Shiro couldn’t help a frown. He couldn’t say he and Lance had ever been close, and definitely didn’t know where they stood after his year away from himself, but he couldn’t remember a time when Lance hadn’t been friendly if not exuberant. It was… unsettling to see him so unlike himself.

Shiro found himself stealing glances over the course of the meal and figured he should just check in. He was still technically their leader; it was a part of his job to make sure that everyone was doing okay.

Everyone rose to clear plates and wash up but, by the time Shiro was finished with his mess kit, Lance had already disappeared. He frowned, then decided he could talk to him at breakfast. But, when breakfast rolled around, Shiro realized Lance had somehow perfected his disappearing act. Whether he was volunteering to help Coran go catalog plants and leaving camp or just slipping away unannounced, it seemed like there was nothing Shiro could do to get ahold of Lance. He soon realized that, even with communal meals and group training, he hadn’t spoken to Lance in over a week, maybe even longer.

After three more days of chasing Lance back and forth around camp, Shiro finally managed to get a one on one with him by following Lance on his way out of the clearing to wash his face in the stream nearby. He waited a good distance away beside the black lion, suddenly grateful that Keith had parked her so close to Red. He could pretend he was there on accident and definitely not stalking his teammate.

“Lance,” he called, watching the other boy walk back with his arms laden with bottles and a washcloth. Lance stopped on a dime, all but flinching when his name hit his ears. He turned towards Shiro slowly, mustering a smile.

“Shiro,” he said, the word forced. “What’s up?”

Shiro wandered forward, closing the distance between the two of them. “I just realized we hadn’t checked in in a while. How are you doing?” he said with a smile.

“I’m fine. You?”

Shiro fought to hide a frown, but soldiered on. “I’m doing fine. Actually, I was about to go for a walk. Do you want to come? It’s been a while since we just talked—”

“Sorry, Shiro,” Lance said, taking a step back. “I’ve gotta milk Kaltenecker this morning and I promised I’d show Romelle how it’s done. Another time.” And with that he slipped away, heading straight into Red.

Shiro tried again, multiple times that day to get a moment with Lance, but the other boy was suddenly busy. He was always finishing something or heading to something else. And that went on for three days. Even when they left that planet to continue on to another, Lance was quiet on the comms (which never happened) and, when they landed a star system over, was the first one out his lion to set up camp, working right up to dinner and falling dead asleep afterwards.

In a way, the entire thing made Shiro grateful for the mission.

The next planet they stopped on next was inhabited. The King of Juloke had hailed them  on a coalition communicator as they neared and offered them safe harbor in exchange for a rescue mission on a planet in their galaxy. They were welcomed to the palace, which was subdued, a cloud of melancholy hanging over the entire palace. When they made it to the throne room, they found the king inconsolable. With the help of the queen and the royal advisor, Team Voltron learned that the crowned prince had been stranded a planet away on Humal during a ritual hunt. Because of continued storms on that planet, they hadn’t heard from him in days. It would be their job to go to Humal and find him.

They spent the evening planning and, in a probably unfair gesture, Shiro sat directly beside Lance, putting himself in the other boy’s space for the first time in weeks. It was probably this that made Lance jump up and volunteer to go down onto the planet with Pidge. He would help her set up a beacon to cut through the interference from the storm and help them track down the prince’s ship. The rest of the team would comb the planet for the prince, using whatever information the beacon let them receive to find him. When everything was settled, Lance dismissed himself, going to his guest room to get some ‘beauty sleep’ before the big mission.

In the morning, Shiro walked through the palace courtyard to where Lance was loading equipment into Red with Coran.

“Good morning!” Coran called, turning to wave. Lance walked out of Red, his face obscured by the boxes of supplies he was carrying.

“Morning Pidge,” he yelled. “I think me and Coran got everything you need on board. I just have a few more boxes to get out of the way—” he set his cargo down with a thud “— and then we’ll head out to—” he cut off as he turned around. “Shiro. Good morning.” He said, hesitance in his voice and confusion in his eyes.

“I asked Pidge if I could ride along instead,” Shiro explained. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh. But doesn’t the beacon— I mean, Pidge showed me, but it looks pretty complicated to set up. I don’t know if—”

“No worries about that, Number 3,” Coran said, coming to clasp Lance on the shoulder. “We updated the system to run off a combination of gravitational and electromagnetic energy. As long as it’s touching the ground, the modem will run. Besides, it’d be best if Pidge could be here with me to help coordinate. Everything will be fine. Besides, the rest of us are only a call away if there are complications.” Before Lance could even respond, Coran was bustling back into the Red Lion. “Now I’ll just grab the last of the old supplies, and you two can get going,” he called.

Lance and Shiro stood across from each other in awkward silence.

“Sorry to intrude, I just thought it’d be best to have as many lions in the air for a mission like this and, since Keith is flying black—”

“No, I get it. It’s fine. Let’s just… let’s get going.”

They boarded Red, passing Coran on his way out. He wished the two of them good luck as Red’s mouth closed. Lance took his seat in the cockpit and Red rumbled to life, but, even with her steady hum and the roar of her thrusters as they took off, the silence seemed unyielding.

Shiro watched from behind the pilot’s chair as they approached Humal. He’d forgotten how fast the red lion was, and had hoped to talk to Lance on the flight down, but it seemed like he was going as fast as Red could.

“Lance, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Shiro said, leaning in.

“Fine,” Lance said. “Hold on.” Lance sent Red into a dive as they approached Humal’s atmosphere. Shiro clenched his hands on the back of the chair, crouching low to steady himself as Lance tore through the clouds.

“Lance,” Shiro said, “You don’t have to—”

“You know, Shiro. A storm like this isn’t easy to fly.”

“Right… Shutting up.” Shiro said, simply watching as Lance began the difficult descent onto Humal. Even inside Red, the rain felt powerful, drops impacting like bullets as Lance flew them through the storm. According to the map they’d been shown, there were forest covered mountains that they should be looking for, but they could barely see out Red’s windows, much less find their way.

“Pidge, I need a topographical map,” Lance said into the comms. “Visibility’s shot. I don’t know where to put her down.”

“Sending it now,” Pidge said. “Go for whatever’s tallest without being too dangerous. It’ll give the beacon a greater reach.”

“I’ll try,” Lance said, overlaying the map Pidge had sent with the view out the main window. The vague shapes below gained numerical labels, telling them how high or low certain areas were.

“Head east,” Shiro said, pointing to a corner of the map. “There’s a clearing or something pretty high up.” Shiro held on as Lance turned, pushing Red against the wind. They flew close, looking down at the area, which was surrounded by dense trees leading all the way up.

“Shiro, I don’t know if—” Lance cut off, leaning over the controls as they were buffeted by a gust of wind. “—if this is gonna work. Either the trees will be too thick to land, or we’ll be too exposed with all this wind!”

“We have to at least try,” Shiro said.

“But what if this is our only shot?” Lance said, looking around wildly in the storm.

“Then we take it. That’s the highest point we’ve got big enough to land on in wind like this.” Lance clenched his jaw but nodded, leaning back as he pulled up on the controls. Leveling Red out as they started their descent. They shook and rattled in the wind, working against the huge gusts to approach the tree line. As they drew closer, Lance saw a gap in the trees and aimed for it, sending them down. The wind made it nearly impossible for Red to hover, and Lance was sweating the the effort of keeping her steady as they approached the trees. One wrong move and they’d get caught in a draft, sending them into the trees and down the mountain; and who knew if they would make it back up?

A gust hid Red straight on, shooting them back. They jolted as her legs hit against the tops of Humal’s huge trees.

“Shiro—” Lance said, panic in his voice.

“You’ve got this. You’re almost there. Nose down, head on in.” Lance re-angled Red, sending her down between the trees. As they lowered into the clearing, the wind quieted, blocked by the huge circle of trees. Even the rain sounded less, intercepted by the leaves.

Lance set them down at one edge of the ring of trees, taking a deep breath in his chair as he unclenched his fingers from around the controls.

“You did great, Lance,” Shiro said, patting him on the shoulder. Lance curled away from the touched, pushing himself out of his seat.

“You should hail Pidge. Let her know we’re setting up,” he said, going and starting to undo the restraints holding the beacon in place. Shiro watched him work, calling Pidge and the others quickly to give their location and an estimate for when the beacon would be up.

Shiro saw Lance head down the ramp out of Red. “Lance,” he called, trotting after him. Lance stood just inside Red’s mouth staring out at where they’d landed.

The circle in the trees suddenly made sense. Red was perched on the edge of a crater, the bowl of which was filled with water. Something at the bottom of the pool was creating heat, and thick steam rose off the water. Instead of banks, there were just thick, jagged outcroppings of stone hanging over the bowl of steaming rain. It truly looked like a meteor had blown a hole in the mountain or the the spot had been a volcano long ago.

“That was a close landing,” Lance said, walking the few yards through the rain to the edge of the rock they were on. Red was tucked against the trees, so their spot really was safe, but looking out around the area, they could have been in real trouble if Lance had put her down any further in. Not all of the rock looked stable, especially not for something as heavy as Red.

“We can set up the beacon over there,” Lance said, pointing to an outcropping of stone near Red. He turned and went back into the lion, heaving the beacon precariously into his arms. Shiro ran up, taking half the beacons weight and helping Lance carry it out. They set up in silence, Lance hailing Pidge when it was ready. They watched with bated breath as she activated the beacon remotely, listening as it hummed to life and she cheered on the other side of the comms. A few tense minutes passed as she searched the new, clear data for signs of the prince of Julocke.

“We have a hit!” Pidge said. “It’s weak, but it’s a starting point. Hunk, Keith, Allura— sending coordinates now.”

“Good work Pidge,” Shiro said into the comms.

“Lets just hope he’s near his ship.”

“Entering Humal airspace now,” Keith reported.

“Careful in the storm,” Lance warned. “Visibility is low and the wind is a problem. We had some trouble landing.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Hunk answered. “We’ll check back in when we land.”

“Now that the beacon’s set up, they’ll have extra data, so navigation should get easier.” Pidge said.

“Shiro, Lance, are you two set to guard the beacon?” Coran asked. “If that goes out, we lose all our data.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to it,” Lance promised.

“There’s a good lad,” Coran said. “Hail us if anything goes wrong.”

After that they settled in, sitting on the ground near the beacon and listening to make sure its steady hum stayed uninterrupted.

The search party checked in every fifteen minutes, giving status updates. Things had gotten harder because the signal from the lost ship was going in and out and, even though they were at its coordinates within the first half hour, they couldn’t find it through the foliage. Their third check in, they found what seemed to be a crash site, trees fallen into each other. At the end of the first hour, they were still trying to move the trees and get to whatever lied at the center.

“Looks like we’ll be here a while,” Lance said, tugging off his helmet and letting the stray rain soak his hair. He closed his eyes smiling up at the sky for just a moment as the drops hit his face. Lance opened his eyes, glancing to the left at Shiro, only to tense when he noticed the other paladin watching him.

“Lance—”

“We should do this in shifts,” he said suddenly, jumping to his feet. He grabbed his helmet and heading towards Red. “You, uh, you can start, while the rain is still light and we can switch out every two check ins. No point in both us sitting in the wet to watch some buzzing cylinder.” And then he disappeared into Red’s mouth.

“Lance,” Shiro called, scrambling after him. He ducked into Red and, when he couldn’t find Lance on sight, walked to the pilot’s chair. Lance was curled up on the seat, knees pulled to his chest and head tucked against his legs. He was taking shuddering breaths as if fighting off tears. “Lance,” Shiro said again, quietly this time. He rounded the chair in time to see Lance tug harshly on his own hair before sitting up to look at him.

“Did-Did you want me to take first shift? I guess it’s the least I could do—” he began to unfold, setting his feet on the ground and rising halfway out of the chair “—my idea after all—”

“Why are you avoiding me?” Shiro asked. Lance flinched, looking away.

“I’m not, I just think one of us should be with the beacon at all times—”

“Not just today. The past few weeks. You’ve been all but running away from me. I can’t get near you during meals, I can’t get near you during missions, you’ll barely even look at me!” Outside, thunder rumbled overhead and the hits of raindrops on Red’s exterior sped up. “What did I do wrong? Why don’t you want me around?”

“What? Shiro, how can you even look at me after what I did?” Lance said, anguish filling his eyes.

“What?” Shiro said, brows drawing together.

“Shiro, I abandoned you,” Lance whispered, clenching his fists in his lap and looking away as he felt tears well in his eyes. “You called out to me and I knew— I knew something was wrong, I just wasn’t smart enough to figure it out. You were dead , and you reached out to me for help and  I—” he sobbed once, burying his face in his hands. “All the while I was befriending your clone. I can’t even tell what of that was real— And even if any of it was, knowing I abandoned you to that? Left you in the astral plane when you tried to reach me? When you were begging for help? I wouldn’t want to be friends with me after that either.” He collapsed in on himself.

Shiro was agog. “Lance, none of that— none of that is true! None of what happened was remotely your fault. What happened… none of us could have controlled that. None of us could have stopped that. You can’t pin any of this on yourself—”

He cut off as light flooded the windows behind him. Lance’s face lit blue and a crack rent the air. Not a second later, thunder shook the air around them, so close that even Red lurched. Shiro leapt forward on instinct, bracing himself over Lance as Red shook, staying over him until the rumbling stopped. He drew back a few inches, not moving his arms as the lion stilled. He looked down at Lance and their eyes met. Outside there was a loud crunch of rock shifting.

“The beacon,” Lance gasped, pushing away from Shiro and running outside. Shiro took off after him calling his name. Outside, the rain was so heavy he could barely spot Lance, the young paladin a blur in the thick sheets of water.

"The ground is cracked!" Lance yelled, heaving against the beacon. Shiro ran over, taking part of the beacon in hand and lifting. He and Lance shuffled away from the lengthening cracks in the ground. If they could just get closer to Red they’d be on stable ground. They could wait out the worst of the storm. And there was no way they could take off in weather like this. If they did, they'd have to deactivate the beacon, and who knew what the weather was like where the others were. They could all end up stranded.

They were halfway to safety when there was another loud crack and the rock under Shiro's feet shifted, opening a hole to the boiling water below.

“Shiro!” Lance cried. He acted on instinct, tightening his grip on the beacon and whipping around in a circle. Shiro and the beacon went spinning towards Red, falling just beyond the cracks in the rock—

And then Lance felt himself begin to fall as rock crumbled away beneath his feet.

Shiro landed hard a few feet away, shaking off the blow and looking up in time to see Lance start to fall through the rock.

Chapter Text

Shiro’s heart dropped to his stomach. He screamed as he watched as Lance flail in midair, reaching towards the shelf of rock in front of him even as his body disappeared beneath it. Shiro lurched forward, barely managing to see Lance’s arm get caught in between two shifting pieces of rock, stopping his descent.

But any relief Shiro felt was cancelled out by Lance’s terrible scream.

“Lance!” Shiro cried, crawling on his belly over uneven rock that, thankfully seemed to have settled, at least for now.

“Shiro,” Lance replied, his voice a tearful groan. “Shiro, help!” Shiro made his way to him, wincing as he saw the rock digging into his arm, the gray stone already staining red with blood. He looked down over the edge, horrified to see Lance hanging with his legs in the boiling water.

“Lance, are you—”

“I can’t pull myself up,” he explained, looking up with tears in his eyes. “My-my arm. My shoulder— I think it’s dislocated. I can’t put any weight on it.” Shiro swore. If that was the case, then Lance was literally hanging by a thread, the sheer pressure of the rocks around his arm holding him in place.

“If I move any of the rocks, you’ll fall.” Shiro said. “But there’s no way for me to get you up without freeing your arm.” He looked between Lance and the place where his prosthetic had been, If he’d still had that arm, there was a chance he would have been able to get Lance out, but as is— He shook himself he had to work fast, had to keep a clear head.

Then he had an idea.

“Lance, I have to be right back. I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up and turning towards Red.

“Shiro, don’t— don’t leave me.”
“I have to. I’ll be right back,” he said, fighting the tightness in his throat as he tore himself away and ran to Red. He made it inside, going quickly to the panels on the walls and opening them. There had to be rope somewhere—

The comms buzzed opened. “Shiro? Lance?” Hunk called. “The beacon’s been out over a minute and the weather is really bad here. We’re grounded without it—”

“Lance is hurt,” Shiro responded. It was was met with an outcry of concern that he quickly quieted. “It’s bad I have to— he has to come first. I’ll get the beacon when I can.”

“We’ll stay where we are,” Allura answered. “Check in as soon as you can.”

“Yes Princess.” He said, closing the broad comm and opening a private link between him and Lance. “Lance can you hear me?” he called as he switched between drawers, his rifling becoming more and more desperate.

“I’m here,” Lance managed quietly, his breathing labored.

“Just hang on for me,” Shiro said, relieved at hearing Lance’s voice, but no less worried for his well being.

“Heh, the hanging’s the easy part,” Lance said breathily. Shiro cringed at the wry attempt at humor.

Not knowing what else to say, he replied with “I’ll be there soon.”

Finally, Shiro came upon some rope. He rushed out, taking one end and securing it around one of Red’s paws. He ran the other side out to Lance, lowering it to him.

“See if you can tie this around your chest. Tight as you can.” He watched as Lance struggled to use his free arm and his teeth to get the rope around himself, finally managing a haphazard knot. He held the slack firmly in his good hand, keeping it tight.

“That’s as good as it’s gonna get,” he called up. Shiro nodded, turning back to make sure the rope was taught between Lance and Red— every inch of slack was an inch more of Lance in the water— before lowering himself to the ground. He reached for the bloody rocks piercing Lance’s arm.

“I’ve gotta get your arm out of this rock,” he said into the comm. He looked at how the arm was trapped. He didn’t think he could try and shift the rock without putting Lance in further danger, so his only option would be trying to push Lance's arm to the side and out the small gap on the edge of the hole. “This— this is gonna hurt,” he warned, already swallowing against bile in his throat.

“Just do it,” Lance answered. “Fast as you can.”

“Lance—”

“Do it!” And with that Shiro pushed against the limb, forcing it back between the rocks. Lance’s scream echoed in the comms, but he didn’t stop, not until the limb slid free, falling limply to Lance’s side. Shiro retched into his shoulder. There were pieces of Lance’s flesh caught on the rocks.

“That— that was the worst of it.” Shiro said. “Lance didn’t answer; he was crying quietly, the hiccoughing cadence of it stark in the comms compared to the previous loudness of his screams. Shiro stood, winding the rope around his arm. “Hold on tight now. Tell me if—” he stopped. If Lance started slipping, he didn’t know what either of them would do “—Just hold on tight,” He didn’t wait for a response— Lance was still crying—  and started to pull. He took slow steps backwards, immensely glad for the extra weight he had on Lance. He pulled until Lance was laying halfway on the ledge of rock. He looked around quickly, eyes landing on the beacon. He tugged the rope to the device, turning it upright— which set it back to humming— and wrapping the slack around the metal cylinder. If anything happened, Lance wouldn’t fall.

Shiro ran to Lance, getting his arm under his waist and pulling Lance the rest of the way up and to safety.

“Lance? Lance can you hear me,” he said, leaning over the other boy where he was curled on the ground. Lance gave the slightest of nods, rubbing the side of his helmet against the rock, and Shiro nearly crumpled with relief. He looked the few yards over to Red trying to figure out how he could get Lance to safety without aggravating any of his injuries when he himself only had one arm. There had to be a way. There might be something in Red, but he didn’t want to leave Lance again.

“Sh-shiro,” Lance said, voice thready with panic. “Shiro, I— I can’t feel my legs.” Shiro looked down at Lance, his blue eyes wide with panic.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll— we’ll figure this out,” Shiro said, even as his own chest tightened. He looked at the center of the crater. Even with the rain pouring in, the water still sent off thick plumes of steam. “I have to get you to Red. You can’t stay out in the rain,” he said.

“Shiro, how— oh,” Lance said, looking away.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Shiro said, heart breaking at having to leave Lance again, especially like this: so hurt and vulnerable. “I have to go, but I’ll be right back—”

“Go. I’ll… I’ll close my eyes, and when I open them again, you’ll be back, okay?” Lance looked back at him and Shiro nodded.

“Right back,” he repeated, watching as Lance’s eyes clenched shut. He ran for Red, grateful that, with his earlier rummaging, he knew exactly what he was looking for. He grabbed the blanket and ran back out. “Here,” he said, watching Lance’s eyes snap open. He laid the blanket out against Lance’s back. “I’m going to help you onto your back on the blanket, and then I can pull you to Red, okay?”

Lance nodded again, letting his eyes slide closed as Shiro leaned down and helped Lance roll back onto the blanket. Even though they were careful, he still winced as his dislocated shoulder was jostled.

“Okay,” Shiro said, grabbing one end of the blanket and pulling up so Lance’s head and upper back were off the ground. He walked to Red carefully, unsure whether Lance’s silence meant the trip didn’t hurt or hurt too much. They made it up Red’s ramp and to the safety of the cockpit. Shiro hailed the others, grabbing the lion’s huge first aid kit and kneeling beside Lance.

“I’m in Red with Lance,” he said, “but he’s hurt really bad. I don’t know how much longer we can stay here. I’m starting first aid, but… It’s bad.” Already he could see blood staining Lance’s armor. He pulled out a roll of bandages, very carefully reaching for Lance’s arm. Lance clenched his jaw, stifling a groan as he let Shiro extend his arm . Shiro started to wrap the wound, his priority to stop the heavy bleeding.

“Looking at your location now,” Pidge said. “It’s possible that the others could simply retrieve the beacon on your way out,” she said. “But we can’t guarantee that nothing will happen to it…”

“We- We can’t leave you guys stranded here,” Lance mumbled. There was a cry of his name on the comms followed by concerned questions. “I’ve been better,” he managed, voice breathy. He groaned as Shiro tightened the bandages around his arm.

“Lance, if we don’t get you out of here—”

“Shiro, the prince could be hurt jus' as bad. Or worse.” Lance slurred.

“Lance? Sounding kinda funny there,” Hunk said carefully.

“Tired,” he sighed, eyes sliding closed.

“Lance? Lance!” Shiro, said, leaning over him. He pulled off Lance’s helmet, pressing his bare palm to the other boy’s face. “God, you’re burning up— guys we need an evac. I’ll stay with the beacon, just get Lance out of here.”

“Not— not leaving you. Not again,” Lance said.

“Goddammit,” Shiro hissed. “Keith, get over here now.” He turned around, rifling through the supplies to find the shock blanket.

“Sending coordinates now,” Pidge said.

“On my way,” Keith replied. Shiro wrapped Lance in the shock blanket, tucking the blanket he was on around him until he was all but swaddled on the ground.

“Keith, if you and Shiro can switch lions, you can fly Red back to the castle and we don’t have to move Lance or disrupt the beacon.”
“I can’t move it on my own,” Shiro said, searching the first aid kit for a thermometer.

“Someone can come help you. We just have to get Lance out.”

“Ten minutes,” Keith said.

Shiro found the thermometer, bringing it to Lance, and coaxing the other boy’s mouth open. He had a low fever, but it was still manageable. They just had to help it stay there. They all fell quiet, simply counting down until Keith arrived. Five minutes passed with only the occasional groan from Lance, but he only seemed to be getting more uncomfortable. Shiro checked his temperature again— it had gone up a full degree in that short amount of time.

“Keith?” Shiro said.

“Going as fast as I can, just— the storm.” Keith said, voice strained. Shiro remembered their own fight against the wind to get here.

Shiro nodded. “Be safe,” he said. The last thing they needed were more injuries.

Keith was only two minutes out when Lance’s breath hitched. He tried to stutter out Shiro’s name, looking desperately at the other man, before his eyes went wide and filled with tears, mouth opening on a scream. He thrashed in his blankets, curling in on himself. His legs were on fire, sending bolts of pain up his entire body. Somewhere beyond him, he could hear Shiro and the others calling his name, but he couldn’t focus through the blinding pain.

“Lance! Lance, you have to tell me what’s wrong,” Shiro said.

“My— My legs. I- I can feel ‘em.” Lance extended his good arm, reaching desperately towards his armor, but Shiro caught his wrist.

“Lance, I need you to breathe,” he said. “Touching them won’t help, just breathe. Keith’s almost here.”

“Shiro,” Lance whined, tears escaping his eyes.
“I know; it hurts, but I need you to calm down—”

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, running up the ramp. He came into the cockpit, kneeling on the ground beside Lance. “What’s going on?” he asked, leaning close to Shiro who was still trying to stop Lance from clawing at his wounds.

“I think he’s got some burns on his legs. He couldn’t feel them for a while but now—”

“All that feeling’s rushing back. Shit.” Keith hopped up, going to Red’s other wall and sliding back a long panel. A small cot folded out, long but narrow. “We can secure him here for the flight back.” he said, coming to Lance’s other side. He was panting now, eyes screwed shut and teeth grinding together as he cringed against the pain.

“Lance?” Shiro said. “Lance, we need to lift you now. Only for a second, I’m sorry—” he cut off as he saw Lance give the tiniest of nods. He looked across Lance at Keith.

“This is gonna hurt him, isn’t it,” Keith asked quietly. Shiro could only nod. They fit their hands under Lance, lifting in unison and holding on even as he bucked away from their touch. They deposited him on the cot, pulling the shock blanket over him before strapping him in. “I’ll be right back” Keith said, running out of Red.

On the cot, Lance was taking shuddering breaths. “Shi-Shiro—”

Shiro knelt down beside him. “It’s okay Lance,” he said. “Keith is gonna take you to get help. You’re going to be okay.”

“Can’t leave,” he panted, shaking his head. “Can’t- Can’t leave you here. Not again—”

“Shh, not leaving me. I’m fine. It’s you we have to worry about. Need you safe.”

“Is there anything you need out of here?” Keith asked, running back in. Already, he was heading to the pilots seat. It was less than an hour ago that Lance had cried in that very spot, confessing his guilt to Shiro—

“Shiro!” Keith yelled. He was looking back from the chair at him. “I need you to pull it together,” Keith sent him a pointed look. “For Lance. I need to get him out of here.”

Shiro nodded, steeling himself. He headed down the ramp and out, quickly untying the rope from Red’s paw. Black was seated against the trees a few yards past where Red was laying. Shiro stepped back, watching as Red took off, leaving him and the beacon on the rock.

After that, time seemed to slide together. With the steady percussion of the rain, broken only by thunder as the storm blew past, there was nothing to keep Shiro in the moment. As such, there was nothing to stop the anguish in Lance’s eyes from playing over and over in his head. Were it not for the rest of the team checking in every 15 minutes, he would have lost track entirely.

Eventually, Hunk and Allura made it through the fallen trees to the crown prince’s wrecked ship. They found him inside, scratched up from the crash and dehydrated, but otherwise whole. Hunk bundled him into Yellow, heading back to Julocke for treatment and towing along his damaged ship. Soon enough, Allura arrived in Blue and took the beacon in hand, her own Altean strength enough to get it safely into Blue. Together, she and Shiro took off, flying back out through the storm. It was a hard trip, and Shiro struggled to keep control of Black in the storm, and with only one arm, he relied more on the lion’s own instinct than his ability to pilot.

By the time Shiro landed back on Julocke, he was exhausted. It was only the need to see Lance that kept him on his feet.

Exiting their lions, he and Allura were greeted by Coran who simply said “this way,” and led them away through the palace. They followed quietly, winding quickly through the stone halls.

“Coran,” Shiro said finally, “How is he? Is it- How bad is it?” Shiro could just see how the corner of Coran’s lips turned down.

“He… His wounds are bad. They’re working on him now. They should be done in a few hours.”

“Hours?” Allura said. “So long?”

“He has rather bad burns on his legs, princess. Luckily, they have specialized treatments to help repair that skin and attempt to heal the muscles there.”
Shiro’s heart sunk in his chest. Even though he got to Lance fairly quickly, he knew that every second his legs had spent in that water was only one more second of damage that could end up permanent.

“Let’s not worry too much about that until the doctors have finished up, hm? The others are waiting.”  

They made their way to the east wing of the Palace and the entire wing seemed to be bustling with activity.

“The prince has returned and, though the doctors are still treating him, there are already many people hoping to visit,” Coran explained. He led them to a corner of the crowded sitting area, where Shiro saw Hunk and Pidge awkwardly receiving thanks from various members of court. Coran graciously interposed himself between the upper crust of Julocke and the paladins, giving the others a chance to connect.

“Shiro, are you okay?” Pidge said. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug and her ran his hand through her hair.

“I’m fine, Pidge. Lance made sure of that,” Shiro said.

“He’s gonna be okay,” she said quietly. He said nothing, simply folding over her and pressing his face into her hair. They lingered like that, only separating when Allura tapped Shiro on the shoulder.

“Hunk was going to head down and check on Keith. He’s watching them work on Lance. Would you like to go with him?” the princess said. Shiro nodded, leaving Pidge with a pat on the shoulder and following Hunk down one of the hallways. It was lined with doors, some of which had light coming out their small windows. They turned a corner and saw Keith pacing outside another wooden door. When he heard them he turned around quickly, relaxing when he saw who it was.

“How is he?” Hunk asked, peeking in the small window.

“It looks like it’s going fine. He hasn’t woken up, but they’ve put him under, so he shouldn’t.”

Shiro looked in the window, withholding a gasp as he looked at the condition Lance was in. They’d stripped him out of his uniform and Shiro could clearly see the the shoulder Lance had dislocated. It had been reset, but the area around was still swollen, deep bruising flowering out from the angry red flesh and trailing down Lance’s side. Lance’s damaged forearm was already wrapped with new bandages, already having been worked on.  Shiro’s gaze slid down the line of Lance’s body to his hips, covered by a sheet, and just below, his legs. Shiro’s mouth fell open in horror as he looked at the damage on Lance’s legs. The skin was red and angry all the way to his feet, even turning white in some places. Blisters were forming all over, some already filling with pus and some already weeping the clear fluid down his ruined skin. The doctors were wrapping him with bandages soaked in some green solution, but one leg had already been wrapped to the knee and those bandages were already staining pink with blood.

Shiro stepped away from the window and felt weary. “How-How long has he been in there?” Shiro asked, turning to Hunk and Keith.

“Coming on two hours,” Keith answered, voice tight. He spoke down into the fold of his arms, tight across his chest. “They had trouble getting started. He was really panicked and wouldn’t let them near him. It took a while for him to let them close enough to sedate him. He kept… He kept calling for you. He fought me when I tried to get him out of Red. He kept saying we needed to go back. I don’t think he knew how badly hurt he was.”

“But they said’ he’ll be okay,” Hunk said, sliding into the conversation and setting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “They’ve seen burns like this before, since they hunt on Humal all the time, and, it’ll take some time, but they can reverse the damage. And the King says we can stay here until Lance is fully recovered.” He squeezed Shiro’s shoulder, turning him away from the window. “He’s going to be okay,” Hunk said again.

Shiro nodded shakily, crossing to the other side of the hall and sinking to the floor.

“Shiro, you should go rest,” Hunk said. “I’m next to watch, and Lance’ll be in there a while—”

“I need to stay, Hunk,” Shiro said. “I’ll take your watch, just—”

“No, I’ll stay with you,” Hunk said, joining him on the wall. Keith continued to pace, looking into the window periodically.

Time passed like molasses and the group on the floor slowly grew to include the entire team, all cuddled together to stay warm on the cold stone floor. When the doors finally opened, it was late in the night and most of the team had dozed leaving only Keith and Coran awake. They both jumped up, startling the others awake in time to see the doctors roll Lance out on a bed.They followed in a cluster as he was moved from the operating room to the guest wing of the castle.

He was set up in a plush bed, an IV in his arm for hydration, and then the doctor left, promising to come the next day and change his bandages.

The team watched for a few long minutes, but Lance didn’t wake up. A nurse came in, double checking Lance’s IV and and setting an alert for when he’d need more fluids. They turned around, taking stock of the team waiting in the room.

“He probably won’t wake up tonight,” they said. “Even though the treatment’s effective, it’s exhausting. Plus he’s still feverish. His body need rest. So do yours,” they gave a pointed look, before making their own exit, recommending they all retire for the night. Coran seconded this, ushering them all to their own suites along the hall.

“Shiro, that includes you,” Coran scolded. “You had a long hard mission. You should rest.”

“I’ll stay in here,” Shiro said, already pulling one of the plush armchairs from the corner of the room to the bedside.

“You heard the nurse. He shouldn’t wake up tonight—”

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t and— and if he does, there should be someone here.”

Coran sighed, but turned to Shiro with a smile. “I’ll fetch you a change of clothes and sit with him while you at least wash up. Then I suppose I’ll take my own leave,” Coran sad, exiting the room. He returned shortly, pushing a stack of clothes into Shiro’s hands before bustling him off towards the restroom.

When Shiro emerged refreshed minutes later, Coran was in the chair by the bed, simply holding one of Lance’s hands and speaking quietly to him.

“If I hadn’t stayed, you were going to,” Shiro said, with a wry smile. Coran met his eyes and huffed a small laugh.

“Well, as you said, someone should be with him.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Shiro said, helping Coran up and clasping him on the shoulder.

“Good lad,” Coran said. “I’ll check on you both in the morning.” Coran crossed to the door making it halfway out before he turned back, looking at Shiro as he sat down in the chair. “Do try to get some sleep, Shiro” Coran said, leaving with a final, small smile. And, though Shiro didn’t mean to, it was an order he managed to follow, slipping into a restless sleep with his head against Lance’s right hand on the bed. His dreams were filled with burning rain and Lance’s anguished screams. He startled awake to a hand on his back and whirled around as if to point his galra hand at his attacker— only to be met with the startled nurse, who jumped back with both hands up, not commenting on the attempt to use a non-existent limb.

“It’s just me, the nurse,” they said, “I’m sorry to frighten you, but I need to get to the boy.” They said gestured to Shiro’s seat, and he realized his was in the way, sitting on Lance’s uninjured side and holding the hand his IV was in. He got out of his chair, stepping aside so the nurse could work. They left and returned with a tray with tea and small crackers. “For you,” they said. “You seem distressed.”

Shiro dozed some more after that, waking again as Lance began to twitch in his sleep, brow furrowing and mouth moving with small, pained sounds. Shiro scooted close, reaching across him to brush fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” he said, voice tight with the emotion at the first sign that Lance was coming back to them. Lance slept restlessly from then on, passing the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon with small groans and mutters and the occasional flutter of eyelids. The team filtered through the room, coming to check on the pair of them. They all lingered for a bit, chatting and snacking, but the main constant throughout the day was Shiro. The team made no effort to pry him from Lance’s side, instead making sure to provide meals and company for the long hours. They joined him in calming Lance’s whimpers, in chatting with the nurse and doctors as they rolled through, and in looking respectfully away when the doctor began to peel back Lance’s bandages, yet still sneaking glances. Happily, whatever treatment method they had used seemed to be working. While Lance’s skin was still red and angry, it seemed more whole, the blisters calming if not disappearing entirely and the leathery patches losing some of their tough sheen, starting to return to normal. Even his fever had gone down, not disappearing entirely, but lowering to a safer, more manageable warmth. Almost healthy considering how hard his body was fighting.

Over the course of the day, Lance made various efforts at waking: his eyes would open blearily and a slur of words would fall from his mouth (often a cry for Shiro or Keith, who did their best to be nearby to soothe him) and he would look to whoever was nearest— often Shiro— watching their mouth move and twitching his fingers against their hand as if trying to squeeze back. It was early evening when Lance woke for real, eyes blinking open and croaking out Shiro’s name.

“You’re safe, Lance,” Shiro said, brushing a thumb over his knuckles, eyes flicking to the other boy. He did a double take and jolted halfway out of his chair when he realized Lance was awake for real; still clearly exhausted, but looking with eyes that finally noticed their surroundings. “You’re awake,” Shiro said with a smile.

“You’re safe,” Lance croaked. Shiro nodded, reaching to the nightstand to pour Lance some water. He slipped the straw between Lance’s lips, watching as the other boy sipped greedily, nearly emptying the glass.

“You’re severely dehydrated,” Shiro explained, turning to set the cup on the nightstand. “The… the burns on your legs. They took a lot out of you and you’ll be bedridden a while. Or at least off your feet.” Lance simply nodded, looking down at his legs as if trying to will them better. Shiro squeezed his hand, calling back his attention.  “But we’ll make sure there’s always someone here, and you won’t be bored. Allura and Pidge have already been pulling some books from the King’s library and I know Coran and Hunk are excited to cook with all the new ingredients here, and… and I’ll stay here with you, okay?”

“Shiro, you don’t have to do that,” Lance said, looking away and tugging his hand from Shiro’s grasp.

“Lance, you saved me,” Shiro said, standing over the bed and grabbing Lance’s hand again. “You’ve saved me time and time again, you’ve saved your teammates time over, and you’ve saved countless people throughout the galaxy. “ He sat beside Lance on the bed. “And yeah, there was a time that I called out to you in the astral plane. It was a long shot and, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have put you in that situation and then ignored it. I should have known you’d have feelings about that. But, when I called out, you heard me. Lance—” he huffed out a breath, eyes stinging with tears against the memory of the sheer relief he’d felt in that moment. Realizing he wasn’t gone entirely, that he could still access his team “—that more than anything was what saved me. I… I’d been trapped for who knows how long on my own and then, you were a flicker in the darkness and I reached for you. And you heard. That gave me hope in a situation I’d almost given up on.

“You did save me, Lance” Shiro said, looking over at the other boy. He reached over, turning Lance’s head towards him with gentle fingers. Lance’s cheeks were streaked with tears and his breath hitched sporadically. Shiro leaned over him, pressing their foreheads together and running fingers through Lance’s hair— the closest they could get to a hug with Lance’s injuries— as Lance cried. He nuzzled his head against Shiro’s, sometimes managing to whimper out the other man’s name, but Shiro shushed him, simply letting him cry. Between the guilt he’d been carrying and the stress of the past mission, Lance had more than earned a good cry.

Eventually, he cried himself out, tired body succumbing to sleep. Shiro slid from the bed, wiping away a few tears of his own and settling back in the armchair. He would stay right there for the next time Lance woke up and every time after that.