Archive of Our Own

“What did you do to him?!” Shiro shouted across the room, ready to jump into action at the first opening.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” the opposing Galra general sneered, “Just a little serum we like to use on those who fall against us.”

Lance lay on the floor at her feet, panicked fingers scrabbling for his neck, itching at the three red dots of the injection site. He glanced up at his attacker for a moment, hesitating to make any sudden movements.

Shiro also carefully observed the situation, piecing together the scene to decide his next move. Something about the general, the injection device that she still twirled in her hand, made his skin crawl with fear.

Forget about what we came here for, Shiro thought. They had to move, and fast. Shiro whipped out the blaster he had on him and shot at the general with a breakneck pace. Lance took this as his cue to also move, tumbling away until he could prop himself up on one knee and aim his bayard. With two precise shots, one to each of her legs, the general was down. It was time to make their escape.

In a flurry of movement, Lance suddenly felt a strong hand grip his own. Shiro pulled him to his feet, leading with a fast pace as they exited the room, off to return to the red lion.

Behind them, they could hear the general, calling out for back up. They’d have to get out of here. Fast.

They moved quickly, speeding through the winding corridors, opting to take different routes if they encountered sentries, rather than engaging in battle.

“Shiro?” Lance muttered out.

Shiro barely heard it, concentrating hard at getting the two of them back to the red lion.

“Shiro.”

Shiro gave a squeeze to Lance’s hand this time, acknowledging that he heard his call, without wanting to break his focus.

The third time, Lance didn’t speak to get Shiro’s attention.

Shiro felt resistance against his hand, stopping him from taking another step. He finally whipped his head back to see what was up.

Lance had stopped dead in his tracks, shaking profusely. His knees wobbled, moments away from giving up their support. Shiro moved instinctively, wrapping an arm around Lance’s back, keeping him on his feet. It didn’t have to be said out loud. They both knew it was the galra’s serum that was causing this.

Shiro glanced up and down the hall, making sure they were safe for the moment. “Do you think you can make it back to the lion?”

“I…” Lance hesitated, transferring more of his weight onto Shiro. “I dunno.”

As the moments passed, Lance was holding himself up less and less, and Shiro took that as his answer. He’d have to carry Lance back.

As Shiro was considering the best way to lift him, a shout came from the boy in blue.

“Shiro!”

Lance pushed his weight up against the former black paladin, encouraging him to turn around. Soldiers had caught up with them.

Shiro uttered a curse under his breath, and quickly guided Lance over so he could support himself on the wall. With that, Shiro turned his attention to their assailants.

He made quick work of the battle, fighting through the sentries with ease drawn out by adrenaline. There were only a few for the moment, but he knew more would be on their way.

Shiro turned back to Lance as the last sentry had hit the ground. Lance was pushed back against the wall, eyes closed and teeth gritted, breathing heavily and struggling to stand. Heavy breaths shook through his body. He was still shaking, harsher than before. His unactivated bayard sat loosely in his hand, as if he had brought it out in a weak attempt to help.

“Lance.” Shiro called out, as calmly as he could.

Lance’s eyes flickered open, grateful to see that this small battle was over and had been won.

Without asking, Shiro quickly bent down to get one arm under Lance’s knees, the other supporting his upper back as he pulled him up into his arms.

Lance groaned slightly at the motion, and Shiro couldn’t help but notice the unnaturally purple bruising that was forming around the injection site. He started to run before he could let himself dwell on it any further.

The mouth of the red lion opened instantly as they approached. A small sense of relief flooded through Shiro’s veins - he hadn’t been sure how they’d get red to react with Lance quickly deteriorating in unknown ways.

He carried Lance into the lion’s back room, carefully placing him down on the small cot that was set up there during their journey back to earth.

“How’re you feeling?” Shiro asked the shaking boy as he sat on the ground next to the bed. He could allow them a few moments to work out exactly what was happening, and red purred in agreeance, assuring that her particle barrier would keep them safe.

Shiro moved to his helmet, hailing Coran and the others as Lance slowly answered.

“Like shit.” Lance rolled over so he could look at Shiro, eyes suddenly teary and pained. “I feel like… like… my neck feels like ice. And… everything else? I dunno.”

Shiro leaned in, reaching out a hand to brush through Lance’s hair. “Can I see?”

Lance shifted in response, allowing Shiro access to the punctures in his neck. The bruise was spreading around the three red dots, its edges tipped with a painful yellow. He let his fingers gently hover above it, not wanting to touch it and cause any added soreness.

“Lance? Shiro? Are you alright?” Allura’s response finally came through the communication devices on their helmets.

Shiro brought his hand back up to run his metal fingers through Lance’s locks.

“Yes… uh… Not sure actually,” Shiro said as he eyed Lance. “Lance was injected with something. We don’t know what it was but…”

“Send me the medical recordings from his suit, ” Coran piped in. “We might be able to find out what its made up of.”

“Copy that.” Shiro said.

Lance clumsily swung his arm over towards Shiro, allowing him to access the gauntlet. With a quick push of a button, a screen popped up, and Shiro began scrolling, collecting the info he needed.

“There,” Shiro spoke into his helmet as he finished, “It’s sent-”

His words were cut off as a tremor shook through the red lion. Lance whimpered, a mixture of uncomfortableness and fear. Both Shiro and Lance heard the lion’s roar, alerting them of the danger outside.

Shiro took one quick glance at Lance. He was in no shape to pilot, and it would even take too long to get him up to the cockpit. Shiro gave a final reassuring squeeze to Lance’s shoulder before getting back up to his feet.

“What’s happening? ” The comms went alight with static.

“We’re being attacked.” Shiro spoke, his calm leader voice shining through, as he made his way to the cockpit.

He knew he wasn’t Red’s pilot, nor had he ever been, but with Lance in a bad condition, he was the only one available to get them out of this tight spot.

Shiro sat down in the Red’s pilot’s seat, carefully resting his hands on the controls. He closed his eyes, willing the lion to listen to his plea. Please. Help me help your paladin. Help me fly you.

The controls lit up faster than Shiro expected, and, his instincts kicking in from when he used to fly the Black Lion, he set the ship in motion.

Shiro brought red to break through the wall of the hangar they were located in, exiting the Galra base. Their mission had taken place on a space station of sorts, orbiting a large gas giant with an overload of electrical activity. It was a powerful energy source for the galra, doubling as a line of defense. He couldn’t let them lead him anywhere near the planet.

He ducked the lion away from the base, painfully aware of the fleet of cruisers who were shooting after him.

“Allura. I need a wormhole out of here. Now.” He shouted into the comms as he turned Red around, firing back at the cruisers.

“You’re going to need to get a bit further away from the planet first!” Allura called back, panic seeping through her voice. “I can’t risk opening it with all that electrical activity nearby! ”

Shiro pulled up sharply, satisfied with the Red Lion’s quick reaction time, doing his best to get the remaining cruisers off his tail. The movement was successful, creating distance between him and the galra as he pulled away from the planet.

His confidence is short lived. Red’s monitor comes alive, alerting of an impending threat. He turns the lion around once again to view what the cause of this might be.

A large ion cannon was powering up on top of the base. But it wasn’t any old cannon. It was drawing in energy from the gas giant’s never ending storm.

“Shiro! Now!”

Shiro spun back around, not allowing himself any time to worry. The wormhole was open, and he needed to get through it.

He pushed Red to her top speed, hoping to get through before any more danger caught up with them.

Just a few more…

Just as the Red Lion breached the wormhole, the ion cannon fired. Shiro ducked his head, feeling as the impact as it shook the lion violently. His thoughts suddenly shot to Lance, wordless worry for his teammate filling his brain. He wanted to rush back there and check on him, but he sadly knew it wasn’t the time. He’d have to get them to safety first. He just hoped that the lion’s stabilizers were enough.

Upon lifting his head back up, Shiro cursed to himself. His eyes focused just in time to witness themselves get thrown through the wall of the wormhole, the impact of the blast forcing them to exit early. And then, everything went dark.

“No.” Shiro cursed as the lion began to drift, powerless, through empty space. “No, no, no!” He slammed his fist against the dashboard, anything to get the lion working again. They were stranded, and who knew where they were.

With one last attempt to get through to anyone, Shiro found himself tossing his helmet to the side, frustrated and panicked with the current situation. He then threw himself to his feet, and made his way back to Lance.

Shiro’s breath hitched in his throat when he entered the back room and didn’t immediately spot Lance. The cot was empty, with spatterings of blood on and around the pillow. Luckily, Shiro saw him before he had the chance to call out his name in panic.

Lance was all but collapsed against the supply cabinet in the hold, hanging onto the open bottom drawer. He held a red-soaked cloth up to his face, catching the blood that steadily streamed from his nose.

Shiro quickly met him down on the floor, careful not to startle the boy who was slowly slipping into delirium.

“D-did we make it?” Lance slurred the moment he caught sight of Shiro’s presence.

Shiro paused, not really wanting to lie, not wanting to tell him that they were lost without power. “Not yet. But we’re safe.”

“‘s good…” Lance looked up at Shiro, his eyes glistening.

“How’re you feeling?” Shiro reached out, carefully picking him up off of the drawer and towards himself, so he could support his weight instead.

Lance took his time to answer, “Dunno.”

Shiro gently maneuvered Lance so that his head could rest, supported against his chest. He then reached into the still open drawer and pulled out a couple of fresh squares of gauze, before removing the one that Lance was still clinging to his nose. Shiro did his best to hold in his gasp at the volume of blood that was still flowing. He held up the new cloth to Lance’s nose himself, applying pressure across his nose in turn.

“Can you tilt your head down for me?” Shiro asked softly.

“Mmm hmm.” Lance accepted, but didn’t actually move until Shiro gave an encouraging nudge to the back of his head with his other hand.

They sat there in silence for a moment, Shiro not knowing what else he could do except for staunching the flow of the nosebleed. He didn’t want to feel helpless, but the emotions were slowly creeping up on him - it didn’t matter how much he tried to shut them down.

“Hey Lance?” Shiro paused slightly, but didn’t really wait for a response. “You’re gonna need to tell me how you’re feeling, what your symptoms are, when you can, okay?”

“Can do…” Shiro didn’t miss the sleepiness in Lance’s voice.

“No falling asleep either.” There was a slight teasing tone to Shiro’s voice, rather unexpected to himself. He welcomed it though. Anything to bring a bit of light to this grim situation.

“Are you comfy?” Shiro continued, “I can lie you back down on the cot if you’d like.”

“Nah,” Lance looked up at Shiro, taking Shiro’s bloodied hand and cloth with it, disregarding the earlier command, “I’m pretty comfy here.” Lance put his head back down, adding a bit more pressure against Shiro’s chest to punctuate his point. “‘s nice…”

Lance’s words trailed off, only to be followed by a sharp grunt of pain.

“Lance?” Shiro questioned, worried.

Lance only replied with a long whine, his hands swinging quickly to grip over the injection site and under his left armpit on the same side. He suddenly crumpled forward, eyes scrunched tight. His nose bleed was all but forgotten, gauze dropped and nose left to drip freely as Shiro moved his arms to keep Lance from collapsing forward.

“Lance, tell me what’s happening,” Shiro urged.

“...hurts.” Lance winced as if even talking was painful.

Shiro went into action, moving on instinct. He bundled up Lance in his arms, uttering a “sorry” here and there as Lance grunted with pain, and carefully laid him back down on the cot.

“You’re gonna have to let me take a look.” Shiro gently placed a hand on the wrist of Lance’s that was gripping onto his neck.

“No…” Lance muttered, his eyes still tight shut.

“Hey,” Shiro gingerly wrapped his fingers around Lance’s wrist, causing the young man to wince as he slowly pulled his hand away. “Shh… It’s gonna be okay.”

Shiro swallowed heavily at the sight that was revealed. What had previously just looked like a serious bruise had since unnaturally blackened, spiraling out from its solid center in wispy tendrils out to the rest of Lance’s body.

He didn’t know what it meant, and once again cursed the lack of power. Maybe Coran had found out what exactly it was, but with power down, communications couldn’t be had. All Shiro knew was it was some kind of sick Galra torture method, and it made Shiro’s blood boil.

“I’m gonna remove your armor, okay buddy?”

Lance shook his head slowly, not wanting to move.

“It’ll only be a moment. I’ll go quick.”

Shiro didn’t let Lance protest anymore. He slipped a hand under Lance’s back, lifting him up a little so he could remove the chest piece. The longer Shiro held him up in that position, the heavier his breathing became, his eyes watering. It was a relief for them both when Shiro finally unzipped the flight suit, pulling it down to his waist, and laying Lance back down.

Dark lines swirled over the left side of Lance’s chest, highlighting his veins. Shiro only now also saw the same lines that spun round the back of his neck and up past his hairline. That feeling of uncertainty filled Shiro up again. He could visually see the injection’s footprint now, but what did it do? He still had no idea what it was, what it meant, or what he could do about it. All he knew was that he had to keep himself level headed if they were to get through this.

“Alright.” Shiro brushed his hand through Lance’s hair. “I need you to do some thinking for me, and let me know exactly what you’re feeling okay?”

“Mmm…” Lance’s brows furrowed in effort, possibly trying to pinpoint individual feelings in his current stormy state. “Burning,” He finally said, taking in a deep breath after he did so, “like… like when Mamá makes fresh pastelitos and you eat too many of them… but… worse.”

“Heartburn?” Shiro inquired, trying to understand.

“Mmm. But… worse.”

Shiro eyed the lines that spread down his chest, no doubt that they had something to do with how Lance was feeling. He continued to run his fingers through Lance’s hair, hoping that it was helping soothe him at all.

“And…” Lance took Shiro off guard as he continued, his breathing still scarily heavy. “My head is fuzzy… and… my arms… and legs are like… pins ‘n needles…” Tears continued to well up in Lance’s eyes as he listed off his pains. “‘n my nose hurts, and everything… everythin’...”

Lance couldn’t talk anymore as a strangled cry escaped his throat instead. He thrashed violently for a few seconds, the pain sending his body into a spasm, before he settled onto his right side, tightly hugging himself, a white knuckled grip around his left shoulder. He continued to whimper and grunt in pain.

“Ss…’ro?” Lance whined ever so quietly.

Shiro took that as an “okay” to make contact again. He’d removed his hand when the attack started, but now he came back, moving closer and sitting so his face was near Lance’s. He let his hand rest against his back, dodging his clearly hurting shoulder, and began to rub gentle circles into his bare skin.

“It hurts.” Lance stated sadly as he once more recognized Shiro’s presence.

“Your shoulder?” Shiro urged, hoping he would elaborate.

Lance yelped once more, pulling himself into a somehow even tighter ball. “Feels like… m’ arm’s being ripped off.”

Shiro stayed silent, considering this new information. He lifted up his hand that wasn’t currently rubbing Lance’s back, and wiped away a small fresh stream of blood that was making its way out of Lance’s nose.

“Is there anything you think would help?” Shiro asked, “Ice, heat…?” He examined the way Lance was tightly holding his shoulder. “Pressure?”

“Mmm…” Lance whimpered in acknowledgement, and reluctantly removed his hand, inviting Shiro’s to take its place.

Shiro did so quickly, not liking the way the pain sparked through Lance’s face when he took away his protective hand.

He watched Lance’s face carefully has he worked, looking for reactions to make sure he wasn’t hurting him. Shiro firmly pressed the heel of his palm into the muscle of Lance’s shoulder, massaging the area.

Lance let out a groan, but it wasn’t entirely in pain this time. A sense of relief washed over both Lance and Shiro, and Lance’s face relaxed the little bit that it could. He was still in grave pain, but it was better.

Shiro upped his firmness at this sign, massaging as deeply as his mechanical arm would allow him.

Lance’s pain continued to come and go in waves, acting like he was in the clear, before surging up again, pulling out choked screams from his lungs. Shiro didn’t want to think about the fact that it was spreading, just following Lance’s requests to change position every so often. He didn’t want to think about the fact that Lance currently felt like his body was being torn apart, nerves on fire and angry. He didn’t want to think about how as many times as he tried to call out to Red, she was still out and off line.

“Hey…” Lance groaned, “Sh’ro?”

“Hey.” Shiro repeated back.

“Thanks…” His face looked like he wanted to say more, but was too exhausted to do so.

“That’s alright.” Shiro beamed, hoping Lance was lucid enough to see the smile across his face. He continued his massaging where it now led him down Lance’s side.

“Sh’ro?”

“Yeah bud?”

“‘m tir- AH!” Lance yelped as another jolt of pain surged through his body, causing him to convulse for a split second. “‘m... ‘m tired.” He finally finished, his words breathy from the torment.

“I know…” Shiro stopped his ministrations for a moment to soothingly brush his fingers through Lance’s hair a few times, before returning to massaging out the boy’s pain. “But you gotta stay with us okay? We don’t… we don’t know what could happen… otherwise.”

“Mmm hmm…” Lance hummed in acknowledgement, but let his eyes drift closed anyways.

“Lance? Lance.” Shiro called out, catching Lance’s attention, forcing him to open his eyes once more. “Look at me bud.”

“Don’t feel so good.” Lance’s normally deep blue eyes were now hazy and distant. “Hurts.”

“I know.” Shiro pandered to his words. “But you gotta stay awake, okay?”

Lance gave a Shiro a weak nod in return.

“That’s it…” Shiro thought for a moment as to a method as to how to keep his friend awake. “How about you tell me a story?”

“Story?” Lance mimicked, struggling to process things as his mind drifted.

“What about…” Shiro wished he had the ability to think faster. “You said your mom used to make you pastries? Can you tell me more about that?”

“Mmm.” Lance blinked painfully slowly, causing Shiro’s heart to skip a beat. “M’ favorite were her quesitos… guess they’re like a turnover… H’nk tried to make ‘em once… garrison kitchen… n’ good…”

Shiro wanted to urge Lance on, try to get him to continue, but his choppy phrases were a sign that he was slowly losing it.

A sudden sound of static made the two paladins freeze.

“L-nce-- -ro? --ease tell -- --ur there.”

Shiro’s head spun around to look at the blue helmet that had been discarded to the corner of the room. It was Hunk’s voice coming over the comms. They’d somehow been able to get through.

Shiro turned back to Lance, who had a teary smile emerging on his face, aware of what the sounds meant, even in his daze. Shiro made eye contact with Lance and gave one last squeeze to where he was massaging, as if to prepare him for the upcoming loss of contact. With that, Shiro reluctantly stepped up and away from the cot to retrieve the helmet.

“Hunk? Are you there?” Shiro spoke as soon as he was close enough for the comms to pick up his voice.

“Shiro? Oh thank quiznack.” Hunk’s voice was clearer, the connection getting stronger by the second. “We’re found you guys. Hang in there - we’re only a couple of doboshes out.”

“Shiro?” The voice was now Coran’s. “How’s Lance doing?”

Shiro spared a glance to his teammate resting on the cot just a few steps away. “He’s hanging in there.”

“Pidge and I were able to locate the serum in our database. Thankfully, it itself is not deadly if it’s victim is well cared for. Bad news is, it appears to have a strong history of being used by the Galra for torture purposes. Among other things, it targets nerves, causing them to wrongly fire.”

Shiro furrowed his eyebrows together. “I gathered as much…”

“There’s no known record of it being used on a human before, so we’ll have to keep a close eye on him to make sure that it doesn’t have any life threatening effects.”

Shiro was about to respond with the other observed symptoms, the strange bruising and lines, the heavy nosebleed, but he was stopped by a sense of rising panic.

Shiro rushed over to Lance’s bedside. “Lance?” He spoke, but no response. “Lance!” Shiro called out once more, gently shaking him, hoping to bring the boy back into consciousness.

“What’s going on?” Hunk frantically asked, hearing Shiro’s shouts over the comms.

Shiro couldn’t find the time to respond, too occupied by the worry that was bubbling through his veins.

“Doesn’t matter, ” He heard Coran speak. “Hang in there. We’ll be with you in just a tick.”

Shiro leaned over Lance’s still body, cursing himself for leaving him alone for those few crucial moments. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to search through all his memories that he had of first aid training.

The sternum. Rubbing firmly against one’s sternum could elicit enough pain to wake someone up.

Shiro took a deep breath, not really wanting to cause Lance anymore pain. But it had to be done. Leaving him passed out with an unknown substance running through his veins was far too dangerous.

Shiro pulled his flesh hand into a fist, and brought his knuckles down to the center of Lance’s chest, rubbing up and down with force at a quick pace.

Lance jolted before letting a sharp scream out into the air, shooting up into a sitting position before curling over forward, cradling his arms around his chest.

“Hey, hey.” Shiro spoke as Lance’s scream turned into uneven deep breaths and sobbing. “Shh… you’re okay.”

Shiro quickly moved to sit on the edge of the cot, pulling Lance to lean against him. He wrapped his arms around him, drawing comforting circles against Lance’s back.

Lance’s body shook as each tearful breath took a toll on his worn body, but he was slowly calming down.

“That’s it.” Shiro hushed, “There you are.”

“Sh’ro?” Lance gave out a pained hiccup as he buried his face in Shiro’s chest.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Shiro hugged him tighter while keeping an ear out for any signs of more pain.

Lance slumped further into Shiro’s hold, comforted by his presence.

The lion trembled suddenly, causing Shiro to look up, searching for a reason.

“Yellow’s got you guys!” Hunk called out over the comms. “Let’s get you home.”

Shiro sat, half asleep, at the side of the bed. They’d sedated Lance as soon as they’d got the chance, protecting him from the rest of the pain while the serum worked its way out of his system.

Shiro had nearly vomited when Coran had gotten the chance to explain the torturous method in more detail. Victims of the serum, without tender loving care, had been reported to sometimes search for a permanent end to the pain, being driven insane when they were denied an outlet to do so. The Galra were sick. Shiro had come to an agreement with that statement years before, but that didn’t stop each new event from shaking him to the core.

Shiro couldn’t help but be extremely thankful, for a number of reasons. The results of the serum without care wasn’t the only freaky thing Coran had told him. They had discovered that it had a nasty side effect on Lance’s human biology, thinning his blood to a fault, causing the gushing nose bleed. If Lance had been injured in a more physical way… Shiro was just glad they got out of there as fast as they did.

He let his eyes fall on the resting boy in front of him, watching as the IV bag slowly dripped into Lance’s system, providing him with fluids, sedative, and a slow working antidote to the serum. There wasn’t much they could have done other than waiting it out - an actual antidote didn’t really exist - it was more a matter of diluting the serum and flushing it out of his system.

Lance groaned quietly, his eyes fluttering open. The sedative must’ve worn off a little.

Shiro suddenly felt a lot more awake, reaching out to hold Lance’s hand, being careful of the small needle that lay there.

“Hey,” Shiro spoke softly, afraid of causing any kind of sensory overload to the drowsy boy. “How’re you feeling?”

Lance blinked slowly, finding Shiro’s eye contact. He smiled at Shiro as big as he could with respect to his condition and allowed his eyes droop closed once more, slowly letting the sedative take him back over.

Shiro ran his thumb over Lance’s knuckles, happy to see how Lance was relaxing. “You’re safe now,” He whispered.

And he was.

And in another day or so, Lance would be back up on his feet, right as rain, and Shiro would hug him closely.

And then, maybe, he’d get Lance’s mom to bake them up a big tray of pastries.

Because Lance deserved them. Lance deserved the universe.