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Being a defender of the universe was hard on its own.
But grouping that with depressive episodes, anxiety, and ADHD just made it worse. His perfectionism made it look like he was constantly dragging the team down, even though they tried to reassure him that it wasn’t anything like that at all. But when he was the only one who couldn’t make it past level 7 of the training, it made it hard to believe their words.
“Hey, dude, it’s okay,” Hunk told him afterward, Lance helping him cook in the kitchen, “It was a close-range exercise, so of course it would be harder for you. Now if it were long-distance-” he snapped his fingers, “-you would have us all beat.”
Lance scoffed, stirring some bowl full of thick pastel pink batter. “Yeah, but what good is that if I’m being ambushed or somethin’?”
Hunk tried answering that one, but none of them were good enough for Lance.
The doubts and anxieties only grew. The breaking point was when they rushed in to save an allied planet from a Galra invasion. Lance had crashed and been out of commission for almost the entire time since his lion was buried under a rockslide. Nobody had been able to get him until after the battle, unable to form Voltron.
It stung how useless he felt. Shiro slapped him on the back when they got back to the castle, telling him he did well.
The bitter taste of the lie made his stomach churn.
The small bouts of depression started to get worse. He couldn’t find the energy to keep up his skin routine, blemishes breaking out all over his face. It took hours of him staring at the ceiling swimming in his own mind before he finally passed out, only to wake up a few hours later to an alarm blaring. Getting out of bed was even harder.
Hunk, God bless his sweet heart, noticed Lance’s less-than-chipper attitude. It wasn’t long before Lance was confronted by him after dinner.
“Lance, you can talk to me,” Hunk said, a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “We’re best friends, right?”
The guilt sitting heavy in Lance’s stomach made him sick. “Of course, dude! I’m fine, man, stop worrying!”
“Are you sure?” Hunk asked, a crease in his brow, “You didn’t eat much at dinner…”
Lance quickly waved a hand. “Nah, that’s just ‘cause I ate a bunch of snacks today, sorry ‘bout that! I won’t let it happen again!”
It happened again. And again. And again. But even when Lance knew he had to eat something , every time he filled his plate, his stomach never felt hungry. Swallowing it down was a chore.
Not to mention his sleep schedule got worse and worse. Soon he was as bad as Pidge, the little gremlin starting to catch on too. The bags under his eyes were heavy and his skin had lost its glow. He was less peppy now and he could feel the team worrying about him.
And he hated it. He wasn’t weak, he was just going through a rough patch, that’s all.
Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself.
His alarm went off the next morning and he let it blare, too tired to lift his arms but not tired enough to drift back asleep. When the piercing noise started to make his head hurt, he slapped a hand over it and shut it up. It took him an extra minute just to build up the energy to sit up, his body unusually heavy and groggy. He glanced at the time and sighed. Less sleep than the night before.
Lance got dressed in his casual clothes and had just tied his shoelaces when he remembered that they had training this morning. Groaning and toying with the thought of ditching, he stripped and put on his armor, the lightweight material suddenly stuffy and uncomfortable. He kept his helmet at his side, not wanting to feel as if he was suffocating.
With a quick brush through his hair and almost forgetting to brush his teeth, he stumbled out of his room, the bright hallway lights piercing his eyes. He groaned and rubbed at them with his fists, only making his vision spotty and his steps unsteady.
The only one sitting at the table when Lance got there was Pidge, looking half-dead herself. She was staring blankly into her bowl of food goo before snapping her head up, relaxing when she realized it was just Lance.
Lance took a seat next to her, catching a whiff of her breakfast and immediately feeling sick. No eating for him then. How many meals had he skipped in a row now? He couldn’t remember anymore.
“Hey.”
Pidge just grunted, obviously too tired for words. Finally, someone Lance could relate to.
It took a minute, but she spoke up. “How come you look like you were run over by a train?”
“Same reason as you.”
“I doubt you were up all night coding a new program to steal information from the Galra at a higher speed, therefore, reducing the amount of time it takes for us to do stealth missions.”
Lance felt a dull pang in his chest. If only he could do something like that. “Nah, but I didn’t sleep for shit.”
“That’s obvious. You try getting any sleeping pills from Coran?”
He had thought about it, but never actually got around to getting them. Every time he remembered to, he was already lying down in bed and too tired to move again. “I’ll ask him after practice today or something.”
“Take a nap too, you look worse than me.”
“Wow, thanks. Love you too.”
Pidge shrugged, a half-hearted grin on her face. “I only speak the truth.” She got up and grabbed her now empty bowl. “I’m heading down to the training room in just a minute. Everybody else went ahead to warm up. See ya.”
Pidge dove out of the room without seeing Lance’s weak wave. He let his strained smile drop and sighed deep and heavy. He was just so tired. And the lights were so bright and his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth.
He needed to tell somebody that he wasn’t feeling well.
… But then he would be dragging everybody down again, wouldn’t he?
The thought of that and the pitying looks from his teammates forced him on to his feet. He steadied himself and marched out of the room, a new sense of resolve and a small spark of energy back in his eyes. He had to pull his own weight in this castle. He couldn’t have people worrying about him.
But with each step the dizzier he got, the duller his spark got. His stomach growled loudly and he regretted not eating, even if the thought of it made him queasy.
By the time he got to the training room, his energy levels were even lower than before. His stomach ached so much it took all his willpower not to fold in on himself. The bright white walls of the room only hurt his head more and he had a few choice words to say to the people who built this place. Was all this white so necessary? Were they trying to recreate some mecha-heaven?
Hunk and Keith were stretching with each other and Coran, Allura, and Shiro were talking strategy in a circle. Pidge still wasn’t there, but there was no doubt she was going to pop up any second and then they would have to train.
Lance thought of having to move and jump around in the state he was in. Now how much better would it feel to lay down on the ground and maybe not get back up for a week? Much better. Too bad that wasn’t an option.
He made eye contact with Hunk and was waved over. Lance plastered a smile on his face and hoped it was convincing, putting his helmet on and starting to stretch his arms over his head.
“Mornin’, Lance!”
“Heya, Hunk. Sleep well?”
“Obviously you didn’t,” Keith piped in. Lance glared at him unenthusiastically.
“Well, aren’t you the king of comedy.” Lance crossed his arms. “No, captain obvious, is that better?”
The worried look Hunk was giving him might make him die of guilt. Jesus Christ, he was Lance’s best friend and he was refusing to say anything. He kept meaning to have a late night talk session, but he just… Never got around to it.
Soon, he promised himself.
“Do you need to sit out this one? I’m sure Allura would understand, you don’t look so hot, man,” Hunk said, wringing his hands.
“What are you talking about? I’m always hot!” Lance responded with fake confidence, tossing nonexistent hair over his shoulder. “Stop being such a worry wart, I’m fine.”
Pidge came up behind Keith and pinched his sides, making him screech and whip around, his hair standing on end. “Don’t do that !”
Pidge only stuck her tongue out and winked. “Not my fault you’re leaving yourself wide open. Anyway, Shiro says we’re starting.”
Lance tossed his head back and whined, earning himself some questioning looks. “I don’t wanna.”
“Suck it up, you ain’t the only sleep-deprived toddler here, bucko.”
Allura clapped her hands twice and forcibly grabbed their attention. She smiled when they all responded perfectly in time, clearing her throat and straightening her back. “Alright, paladins! We are going to get started for the day. Shiro will be leading you as I hold a meeting with one of our allies over a call. Please get some work done today!”
They all muttered various versions of confirmation, ending up as one big ball of mumbo jumbo. Allura sighed and nodded to Coran who left the room, peeking through the doorway with an energetic “Have fun!” before it slid shut.
A sigh and clap from Shiro, straightening himself out too. “Alright, stretch for a couple of minutes and we’re going to start with some simple sparring. Take five to loosen up.”
Ah yes, five minutes to do Lance’s favorite stretch: corpse position.
Lance reached for his toes and groaned when he could only reach his ankles. He had really let himself go lately. All of his daily routines were basically thrown into the trash. It made him feel like trash, but that wasn’t anything new at the moment, so he just shrugged it off the best he could.
Five minutes definitely wasn’t enough for him anymore because once the time was up, he still felt as stiff as a board. How was it possible to be sore before even doing anything? His headache was starting to make his head pound too. His throat was all dry too and he felt it start to get scratchy when he piped into the conversation.
Luckily, he wasn’t a part of the first group to spar. The first mini-match went to Shiro and Pidge. If you didn’t know them, you would think Shiro would win no problem, but that just meant you didn’t understand how they worked.
The match was over within a couple of minutes, Pidge faking Shiro out and making him hesitate when she left herself wide open, almost as if she were letting him hit her. When he pulled his arm away, she ducked under him and grabbed him from under the arm, the sleep-deprived midget managing to take down the buff adult.
Shiro’s face was flushed in embarrassment and he took Pidge’s hand, letting himself get helped back up. “Good work, Pidge. Keith, you go against her now.”
The match wasn’t as short, but it was just as underhanded. Keith didn’t fall for Pidge’s tricks, and Pidge knew that he wouldn’t. Most of the time was spent dodging before Pidge got a blow to the side, and stumbled. Keith pinned her to the ground before she could get back up, winning with a cocky grin.
Hunk was next and Lance prayed that his buddy would win. One knock on the head with Hunk’s Bayard and Keith would be out cold on the floor. But that was wishful thinking. Hunk was too much like Shiro where he couldn’t land a blow on anyone they were close to. Normally Lance would think it’s cute, but today he wanted Hunk to be a cold-blooded warrior.
Not that he like… Wanted to see Keith half-dead on the floor. No, he just didn’t have the energy to go up against the red paladin today. Knowing him, he would start taunting Lance if he didn’t have any bite in him, trying to make him frustrated enough to lash out. It had happened plenty of times before, but no matter how many times Shiro scolded them, it always happened again.
Just as predicted (and to Lance’s dismay) Hunk was taken down. But to be fair, he did hold his ground much longer than he did the last session. The progress he was making was astounding compared to how he started.
Too bad Lance wasn’t improving worth a damn. Or at least that what he thought.
“Great job, Hunk! Much better,” Shiro says encouragingly, a proud smile on his face. Keith helped Hunk off the ground and said some words low enough that only Hunk could hear. Lance wanted to know what was being said, but couldn’t no matter how hard he strained.
“Alright, Lance, your turn. Let’s wrap this up quickly so we can get on to the team exercises. And both of you, behave yourselves please.”
Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes, setting his stance with his Bayard already drawn. His eyes were hungry for action, his body almost vibrating with pent-up energy. “No promises.”
Now if Keith was a well of energy, Lance was his polar opposite. Just standing up from the bench was a chore and his Bayard felt too heavy in his hand, even without it being activated. Sweat made the back of his neck hot and uncomfortable and he wanted nothing more than to peel himself out of that shell and try to sleep.
“What’s wrong with you? Not get enough beauty sleep?” Keith taunted. Lance just sighed and his Bayard flashed a brilliant blue as it activated into his regular gun. He couldn’t seem to remember how to hold it correctly. His mind was getting foggy.
Keith danced around Lance, his feet light and steps quick. He was obviously pretending to look for an opening. Pretending is being used because at that moment, Lance was basically a walking target. It was obvious Keith was just playing with him and Lance was mildly irritated at that. But at the same time, he was too tired and lightheaded to care.
Nonetheless, he kept his Bayard trained on his opponent, following Keith with it with every weird sidestep he did.
“Are you going to… Shoot? Something?” Keith asked, the edge in his tone gone a little. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he looked Lance up and down like a puzzle.
Lance scoffed, shooting down at Keith’s foot. Or he tried to but the shot landed too far in front of him to really make him hop back in surprise like he wanted. “That good enough for you?”
The look in Keith’s eye still didn’t go away, but he tensed back up again. They tangoed around each other for another second before Keith finally lunged forward, taking a stab right for Lance’s middle.
The blue paladin just barely managed to step to the side before getting impaled. He was out of breath and he had barely done more than one move. Just that simple step made his head spin and vision spotty. His hands were clammy.
“Come on! Fight back!” Keith took another jab. And a swipe. And jab. Swipe. Swipe. Jab. Overly dramatic sword flip to change hands. Swipe.
At this point, Lance was sweating buckets just from trying to evade. He blocked most of the blows with the side of his Bayard and pushed Keith off him, his muscles barely strong enough to do that. His vision was starting to get really spotty now and breathing was a conscious effort.
Lance fired a shot but ended up missing horribly. Shooting when you couldn’t see properly wasn’t a good idea, but he wasn’t trying hard enough . It felt pathetic not being able to do anything while his body betrayed him.
Keith finally relented and took a step back, his sword down at his side. “Lance, are you trying to play a game or something? Seriously, we’re in a training session right now. It’s not time to be messing around.”
Lance’s head was swimming too much for this. He couldn’t even see where Keith was anymore. He held up a hand. “Just one- Just one second, Keith.”
Keith grit his teeth. “Lance, really?! You’ve barely done anything, treat this seriously!”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s just…” Lance blinked rapidly, his mind slowing down, “I can’t really see anything…”
His words trailed off as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body going slack. Lance felt his knees slam on the ground, but he was already unconscious by the time his head hit, his helmet saving him from a concussion. His bayard clattered on the floor beside him, quickly deactivating.
Lance wasn’t awake to hear Keith yell his name. Or when Hunk ran across the training room and scooped him in his lap, eyes watery and scared as he tore off Lance’s helmet and checked for a pulse. Or when Pidge pressed the back of her hand to his forehead with a feather-light touch, confirming the slight fever. Or when Shiro noticed the shadows under Lance’s eyes so similar to his own.
He didn’t see any of it. But maybe he should have.
~~~
Waking up was slow and painful. The first thing that registered was how sore his body was and the throbbing of his head. His eyes were practically cemented shut and he had to forcibly pry them open, keeping them squinted.
Lance wasn’t in the medbay, thank god. He was in his bed with the blankets tucked around him. The room was dark except for the soft blue glow of the lights on the floor. But even those hurt to look at.
The only thing keeping him from thinking he dreamt the whole thing up was the IV stuck in his arm that connected him to some sort of clear fluid. Looking at the needle piercing his skin made his stomach clench and he quickly looked away, trying not to focus on the feeling. Easier said than done.
With perfect timing, the door slid open revealing Hunk with a downcast look. Lance hissed at the light and tried to shield his eyes.
“Dear God, close the door! It burns! My eyes!”
Hunk’s head snapped up and his mood did a complete 180. If Lance wasn’t already sitting on something, Hunk’s tackle would have sent him to the floor.
“Oh thank God you’re okay!” Hunk said between sniffles. He looked into Lance’s eyes before his soft, doughy eyes hardened and Lance found himself being throttled.
“And what the hell were you thinking?! The scans told us you hadn’t slept for an age-and-a-half and you didn’t say anything to me? What happened to friends, huh? Was that a lie?!”
Lance groaned. “Hunk, Hunk, I’m sorry, please! Stop shaking me, the IV! The IV!”
Hunk stopped, but it was extremely reluctant. His hands still gripped Lance’s arms. Tears still flowed freely, but it was in no way out of relief anymore. No, Hunk was pissed.
“Lance, tell me why.”
There was no way for Lance to avoid it any longer.
Hot tears automatically bubbled up and Lance’s throat tightened painfully. He couldn’t look his best friend in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Hunk.”
“That doesn’t answer me, dude.”
The first tear fell and Lance quickly wiped it away with his sleeve. “I know, I just- I don’t know! I can’t sleep anymore and my thoughts keep me up so late- Every time I look at food I feel sick to my stomach and so I skip meals! Then I can’t focus on anything in training and you guys all say it’s fine, but it’s not! Everyone is just so amazing and talented but I haven’t improved at all and it’s just so frustrating and I feel so useless and-”
Lance couldn’t say anymore through his hiccups and sniffling, his eyes stinging as tears dribbled off his chin. Hunk’s grip was slack now and his friend’s tears were back and thicker than before.
Lance then found himself in a warm hug, Hunk’s arms wrapped around his middle and pressing him to his chest. Lance let himself cry onto
Hunk’s shoulder, not caring at the moment if he got his friend’s shirt wet and just letting the softness comfort him. Hunk’s tears trailed down his face silently while Lance was loud and had lost his shame.
They both cried with each other until they both managed to calm down somewhat. Hunk sniffled and squeeze Lance closer.
“Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Lance, you’re the star of this team. You’re the one who keeps us from falling apart on a daily basis or from tearing out each other’s throats. You’re our sharpshooter, the glue, and the heart of Voltron. We wouldn’t- No, couldn’t be a thing without you here, buddy.”
“So please… Stop.”
The words hit hard. They hurt even when they weren’t supposed to. It was like Hunk had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. The feeling was bittersweet.
Lance couldn’t stay in Hunk’s embrace forever though. It wasn’t long before Lance’s stomach let out a loud and painful growl, loud enough for Hunk to hear it clearly. Lance almost whined when he pulled away, already missing the warmth he provided.
They both wiped away their tears without mentioning them.
“You’re probably hungry, huh? Yeah, the scans told us you hadn’t been eating or drinking, so,” Hunk trailed off, a heating look pointed at Lance. The blue paladin at least had the decency to look sheepish.
“Sorry.”
Hunk sighed and shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll go grab something for you and then find Coran to ask if we can take you off that IV yet. Be back in a hot second.”
And with that, the door shut again and Lance was back in the dim light of his room alone. Again. His mind was numbingly empty and he stared up to count the knots in the ceiling, already knowing the amount. He just didn’t want to think or else the guilt might eat him up.
But just when he thought he was alone, his door was open again.
“Well that didn’t take long,” Lance started, pushing himself back up. But it wasn’t Hunk looking for something he had forgotten, but instead, it was Keith standing in the doorway looking awkward and stiff as a board. His feet shuffled nervously and his fingers fiddled with the ends of his gloves.
“Oh, it’s just you,” Lance huffed, crossing his arms.
Keith scoffed, stepping in and the door closing behind him. “Glad to see you’re better already.”
“Yeah, doin’ just fine.”
The room was tense and neither of them wanted to go first. Not that they really had anything to say. Keith didn’t even really know why he was there.
“You scared me.”
Lance blinked before meeting Keith’s eyes, his head tilted to the side. “Wha’?”
Keith suddenly got flustered. “You just collapsed and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if it was my fault or what. Everyone else ran to you and I just… Stood there.”
Of all the things Lance was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Dude, it’s fine. I was the one being an idiot, not you. For once.”
Keith bristled at that, but let it go. “I was taunting you and egging you on when I shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.”
Lance… Was in all honesty at a loss for words. “Man, never thought I would hear those words from you.”
“I’m serious, Lance.”
And oh God, he was.
The only thing Lance could do was stare at his lap, his face flustered. “I- Thank you. For worrying about me.”
“You’re my teammate, of course I care about you…”
Lance looked up just as Keith came closer, their eyes unwavering. Keith set his hand on top of Lance’s head and ruffled up his already messy hair before pulling away.
“I’m glad you’re better.”
Keith left after that, leaving Lance shell-shocked and hot. When it finally hit him what happened, he flopped back down onto his pillow and pressed his arm to his forehead.
When Hunk came back with a tray of hot food and Coran in tow, they both found Lance curled up and asleep, his breathing calm and even.