Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance shot out of bed with a shout. His hands trembled, as he looked around at the dimly lit room around him.

“Not again...” He murmured, running his hands through his tangled sweaty locks. “Why are they getting so bad?”

Lance stood up. His nightgown falling to his knees. Despite what he said, he knew what was going on.

In his hand was a small stuffed blue lion, neck a stained red fabric, reminiscent of someone Lance knew and loved.

“Blue...”

All Lance wanted to do was go to his Lion—no, Allura’s Lion, he had to remember that—, but he felt that no matter what he did, she wouldn’t listen to him.

Whatever he did to screw up this time must’ve been catastrophic.

Lance grit his teeth, squeezing the tiny duplicate of his Azul Hermosa.

You knew this would happen. Why did you even try getting your hopes up? That was dumb. It only made the separation hurt more in the end.

No. Lance did not want those thoughts. Not right now. He doesn’t need them this time around; he already knows.

Maybe Red will be willing to listen? She is my lion now, right?

Mind made up, he set Mini-Azul back on his bed before lumbering towards Red’s hangar. As he passed the other Paladin’s rooms, he made sure to walk as quietly as possible. Sleepy or not, there would be questions (Accusations, they would be pissed at you) that Lance didn’t want to answer.

He breathed a short sigh of relief as he reached the Lions’ hangars area. Lance spared Blue’s doors one short, longing glance before moving towards Red’s. The doors pushed open with more difficulty than he was expecting and used to.

I wonder why? Lance mused as the automatic system kicked in. Is Red’s door different?

Musings pushed aside, Lance stepped into the room.

And immediately felt Red’s fiery gaze upon him.

Suddenly nervous, Lance stalked over to a place before the Red Lion, before sitting cross-legged in front of her.

The two stared at each other, the air surrounding the two a cacophony of emotions Lance wasn’t sure how to untangle. But he got the gist of it.

She didn’t want him here. She wanted Keith.

Lance’s heart sunk. That made sense.

What, were you thinking she actually might have wanted you? Idiot.

He stared up at her for a few more moments.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly, “I know you don’t want me here. Don’t want me as your pilot.”

The air cleared almost immediately, leaving clear crisp self-loathing from Lance, and confusion, surprise, and—guilt? from Red.

Lance stood up immediately.

“No! Don’t feel guilty! Not even a little bit,” He glared up at the Red lioness above him, “Love Keith, please, because once we find Shiro, I know he’ll go back to you.”

The guilt disappeared, and their already strained bond weakened more. But he felt gratefulness through what was left, and was glad.

Lance looked towards the ground. “Can I...rant to you about something…?”

He heard a small purr as she lay down, and took that as his cue to start.

What are you trying to do here, dumbass?? Get Red to rid of you forever?! If you show that you’re this stupid and weak, she’ll never tolerate you! Not even until Shiro’s found! And then what?? Do you WANT to explain to others why both Red AND Blue can’t tolerate you?!

Just shut up!

He took a deep breath. It was now or never, he needed to talk to her about this.

“I’ve been having thoughts.” He blurted out, cheeks heating up as he looked away. He shuffled his feet before continuing. “And…and dreams. Just tonight...I saw the last mission. With Lotor. In this one though, you...wouldn’t listen to me.”

Red growled, suddenly mad. Through the bond, he could feel that she was pissed that he could even think that of her. No matter how little she wanted him as her Paladin, she was dutiful, and would do what was needed of her.

“I know, I know!” He waved his hands around. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you! Logically, I knew you wouldn’t not listen to me, but…my…positively stupid insecurities…make me feel differently...”

He met her eyes again, her anger fading to understanding. Lance felt his muscles relax. She understood. How, he didn’t feel it was his business. But she knew, and she didn’t view him as useless.

Well, not completely.

“That’s why I needed to come to you…to talk to you,” He continued, voice soft, shy, once again, “I just…wanted to hear it from you, I guess.”

Lance could feel her hesitate, before she stood up and nudged him with her muzzle. He could feel how little she wanted to do it through the bond, so it didn’t help much, but he appreciated the effort.

“Thanks, Roja Bonita.” He gave her muzzle a light pat, before turning to walk away. He heard as she moved back to her sitting position, and he nearly ran to the hangar doors.

As the giant doors shut quietly, Lance breathed another sigh of relief.

He began to skulk back to his room, keeping his eyes open for any signs of late night/early morning Hyperactive Keith and/or Genius Gremlin Pidge. Now that he was fully awake, he was free to stalk the halls, roaming to make sure they all got healthy amounts of sleep.

Which is all you can do, here.

All you’re really worth to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue loved Ice. She was loyal, to both him and her cause. Sad she couldn’t have both. Blue hesitated; before letting go. She pulled up walls, so high not even her beloved Paladin could get over. She saw him crack, and she cried. But she never let her walls down, no matter how much she wished.

Ice is stained Red—leaving an ugly purple reminiscent of a mortal enemy. And then Blue washes away, letting the fake red dye take over. Ice melts under heat, mind crushing under sudden weight.

But Red does not love him, not enough to help. No, Red is not love, not here. For she could only love one; and she, like everyone else in Ice‘s life, chose Fire. Chipped away Ice. Melting him. Self-esteem flowing from cracks like snow in Spring. And no one notices.

Not Ground; pure yellow, shining so bright and warm, so dedicated to others‘ safety he forgets Ice. Not Life; pure green, full of such curiosity, so dedicated to the safety of her blood family she doesn’t notice Ice. Not Fire; full of rage and sorrow, so wrapped up in his own woes he takes Ice for granted. Not Air; strong but sensitive, so tired and broken he can‘t see Ice's own cracks.

So Ice melts. And drowns in the remains of his own self-worth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

“Paladins, head to the Observation deck immediately.” Allura’s voice crackled over the intercom.

Lance groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tangled his body into his sheets more, before looking over to a clock on the side of his bed. 5:37 AM Castle Time. That meant roughly two hours of sleep.

Come on, get up you stupid failure. You know Shiro gets less sleep than you and is still on time, so you have no excuse.

It had been a couple of weeks since Red and Lance’s talk, and their bond was as weak as ever. In fact, Lance felt as if it was just getting weaker, Red’s already small amount of care about him just diminishing further as time went on.

Lance swung his feet out of bed. He was tired. Somehow the 6 hours of sleep he had gotten the night before had only served to make him feel worse then, and was now somewhat relieved to get back to the usual 2-4 each night.

Lazily throwing on his armor and grabbing his bayard before applying a thin layer of concealer to his eyebags, Lance headed towards the Observation deck.

You’re so fucking pathetic. You’re lucky the others even keep you around at this point, you weakling.

Lance gritted his teeth, speeding up.

Why even bother? You already know you’re late. And everyone’s going to be so disappointed… Why do you even stick around at this point? It can’t be that hard, just ‘accidentally’ throw yourself in front of a Galra’s fire, and it’s done! They won’t have to deal with you anymore.

Lance couldn’t even argue with the voice. It had been getting harsher, but he knew everything it said was true. Everyone would be better off without him, wouldn’t they?

“Lance!” Allura bellowed as he walked in, pink armor that came from literally nowhere as far as he knew fully fastened over her shoulders, “Why are you so late? I called you all almost 10 doboshes ago!”

Lance hid a wince. “Sorry, Princess—” He pulled a smirk on his face and winked. “—I just have to be fashionably late, though.”

Pidge snorted, tiredly half leaning on Hunk, both fully outfitted in their armor. “Well you’re late at least.” She looked him up and down, light concern on her face. “You feeling okay there, Sharpshooter?”

He couldn’t hide his wince this time. Look at that, you made her worry. You asshole, she can’t be feeling concern for you, not with all she has deal with already.

It’s fine, just smoothly deny, and change the topic.

“Perfectly good, why, you worried?” He chuckled lowly as Pidge rolled her eyes.

Phew. Crisis averted.

That was too close, what would’ve you done if they figured out just how little you actually are okay? What then?

Lance turned to Allura, who had a smile on her face. “So what was it you needed us for?”

Allura’s smile slid off her face, replaced with her “All Business No Nonsense” face. She opened the star map, showing us an image of a beautiful ice planet. “Right. A couple Phoebs before Zarkon’s betrayal, an Altean exploration fleet informed us of a planet they found, where, despite the planet’s geography, supplies were bountiful.” She turned to us. “King Alfor hadn’t had a chance to inform Zarkon, luckily, so the Galra have probably labeled this planet as useless. For us this means everything.”

Shiro, newly back from his second time in Galran captivity, picked up from there. “The mission today, is to gather supplies.” The planet image zoomed in, and colored dots appeared around the planet.

“Allura will be close to the planet’s south pole with the Blue Lion, and is in charge of gathering water and this fruit.” The woman in question lifted up a photo of a pear looking fruit, but spotted orange and purple.

“Pidge will be in charge of the coordinates on this paper with the Green Lion, and will be looking for this plant.” Allura handed her a paper like her own, although Lance couldn’t see what was on it.

“Lance will be going to the planet’s North Pole in the Red Lion, to gather the liquid there.” Lance snapped to attention as Shiro said his name, “But be careful, it’s very acidic, so don’t fall in.”

Ah, an opportunity right there. A way to get rid of yourself. I say we 'accidentally' fall in, sounds fun, right?

Just shut up for once, okay?

“You got all that, Lance?” Shiro asked, eyebrow raised expectantly. (And maybe a little... concerned? No no, it must've been the artificial lighting. Shiro didn't like him enough to be concerned about him, no need to get his hopes up.)

Lance jolted. “Uh, yeah. Got it.”

“Good,” Allura interjected. “It’s very important. It’s also outlined on this paper, so if you forget how to properly do it, you can look back on it.”

Aww, she knows you so well!

“Hunk will be going with Pidge in the Green Lion, to the same coordinates as her, to look for this herb.” Shiro continued, Allura handing Hunk a photo too, with a small paper attached.

“This herb will be most helpful in making medicines we’ve been running out on, and is our top priority.” Coran piped in.

“Exactly, Coran.” Shiro nodded, agreeing.

Hunk gulped, and Lance could tell the pressure was getting to him. Time for some intervention.

Lance swung his arm over Hunk’s shoulder, “Well at least you don’t get the acidic liquid! You’re lucky, if you ask me.” Hunk gave him a small smile, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. Good.

“Yeah, you do more than our resident goofball here, Hunk," Keith said with a smirk, arms crossed sassily, "As usual."

Oh, ouch. “Gee, thanks Mullet-Head.”

“Lance, Keith break it up,” Shiro intervened, flicking Keith’s forehead. “Lance will be doing more than you this time, you’re staying here.”

“Aw, really Shiro?” Keith, he kids you not, whined in response, Shiro smiled down at him affectionately. (He’ll never care about you as much as he does Keith why do you even feel sad about it at this point)

“Yes, we’re with Coran, making lunch. Or brunch, depending on how you look at it.”

“Aww...”

Lance smirked, victorious. Mullet got what he deserved.

What he deserves is a better teammate, really.

“Alright Paladins, let’s go.” Pidge whooped and ran down the hallway to her lion, Hunk following with a squawk. Allura shook her and headed to my her lion’s hangar at much more subdued pace.

“Now what exactly is this ‘brunch’ you mentioned?” Lance heard as he turned to Red’s hallway. Good ol’ Coran.

Lance was in a daze the whole way to the planet. He knew he was chattering over the comms, but if you’d asked him to repeat anything he’d said it’s unlikely he could’ve.

He stopped when Allura piped up, however. “Lance, as...interesting as the worst pizza you’ve ever tasted is, we’re preparing to land on Ledjalid shortly.”

“Ah, okay, sorry Princess.”

Stupid, stupid! That must’ve been so annoying, poor Hunk, Allura, and Pidge. I pity them, you know. Having to put up with you. Even I barely can, and I’m your own goddamn insecurities!

Wow, even the voice in my head hates me. Great. Not that I would miss you if you just left, by the way. Hint, hint.

Never.

Lance shivered, before directing Red over to the coordinates and landing her. He stood up, leaving his bayard and helmet in the pilot’s seat, and exited.

“Thank god for artificial heating…” He heard Pidge murmur over the comms unit. Lance couldn’t help but agree. Even fully decked in the armor’s heating system, it was cold.

He flicked off his headset’s mic.

“Now how am I supposed to do this...”

The page Allura had given him luckily outlined everything out simply, so even though he hadn’t been listening to the lecture Shiro had undoubtedly been giving, he felt he could do it. It was as simple as gathering water. Highly acidic water. That could burn his arm off in roughly 20 ticks. Yeah.

But before Lance could even begin step 1, a familiar sound filled the air.

“Oh no.” He looked up, to see three Galra jets descend, focused on Red.

Oh cheese and sprinkles, I need too hide.

Holy shit, only you.

Lance looked around, before running to a rock he saw nearby.

The crack he found was wet and slimy, but that didn’t matter as Lance flicked on his mic.

“Uh, guys? We might have a bit of a problem on our hands...”

Static.

“...Guys?”

“...”

Nothing.

“Dang it,” he ripped off his headset, glaring at the useless hunk of metal. “Of course it chooses now to decide not to work.”

Lance looked over at the rapidly descending jets. There must’ve been something on board that was blocking his comms. He hissed a light curse. This was very bad. He had no doubt they were going to call Cruisers soon, if they hadn’t already, and there was no way only three lions could deal with it, especially if they were caught by surprise.

But what could he do?

He grit his teeth and hid further in the rock’s crack, putting back on the headset and making sure he could see the jets, but they couldn’t see him.

“Guys, Allura, Coran, Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, Keith, anyone, come in.”

Static answered him.

Well, it was worth a try.

The jets landed with a bam, far too close to him and Red for his comfort.

2 doboshes of panicked anxiety later, Lance heard voices.

“...can’t be, why would they bring a lion here of all places?” A gravelly voice said, sounding exasperated and skeptical.

“I’m telling you, it really does look like that hybrid’s lion!” A shrill second voice replied, the complete opposite of the voice before. It made Lance’s ears hurt.

Hybrid?

…Keith?

“Well have you even seen either in person?”

The shrill person’s silence was answer enough, for both Lance and the gravelly dude.

“Shut up you two,” a third voice interjected, this one deep and commanding. “Whether or not this is the real thing or not, we owe it to our comrade to search for it’s Paladin.”

Oh sprinkles this is not good. Whoever these Galra were, they seemed to have a vendetta against Keith, (revenge for a teammate?) and they obviously weren’t aware of the Lion Swap.

Lance sighed. This was not going to be fun for him.

The Cuban boy ‘accidentally’ stumbled out of the crack and right into the view of the soldiers before him.

The Galra mini-squadron tensed. Both parties stared, no one daring to make a move. Lance took this time to survey the beings in front of him.

Red was unresponsive. The jammers might’ve been interfering with her systems. Which meant they were powerful. Which could also mean... they had really low range. Hmm.

Shrill and Gravelly didn’t seem very special. They were tall, maybe even taller than Shiro, but that seemed to be a running trait with all Galra. All in all they seemed to just be average soldiers who had been on patrol and happened the catch the readings of Red. Lucky him.

It was the commander sounding Galra who caught Lance‘s attention. He was really tall, towering over his teammates by at least a foot, decked out in a high-class looking uniform. But that raised the question, why was he with these lackeys? He mentally tweaked his plan, ideas and theories intermingling with the fear and desperation.

And then Lance took off running. He knew he’d grabbed their attentions; now all he had to do was make sure the stayed away from Red and their jets’s emergency buttons.

“HEY,” The shrill one yelled, “GET BACK HERE!!”

Of course I’m not “Getting Back There”. How dumb do they think I am?

Very dumb. And they’re not totally wrong, either.

You have such great timing, you know that?

Lance’s legs burned; he was so much more of a swimmer than a runner. And although he felt he could easily beat even Keith in running speed, these Galra were fast.
Within 5 five doboshes, Lance was on the ground. The Galra with the commanding voice had his knee in his back, and Lance was so, so very tempted to let loose a “kinky~” but that would ruin his ‘plan’ quicker than he’d made it. (It had started as a good one but quickly became a glorified “run”, but in theater mode).

“Ah, so that was one of the lions,” The Commander purred huskily in his ear. (The temptation—) “Answer me this…are you the Paladin they call…Keith?” The Galra’s comrades stood behind their (supposed) leader, presence not as intimidating as they likely thought.

Lance mentally sighed. Time to channel his best Keith.

Outwardly, he turned his head the best he could and gave his best ‘Keith’ Glare, eyebrows furrowed with one somehow raised too, with a scowl for extra measure.

“And what does it matter to you?” He spit out, disgust radiating off his words.

Commander raised an eyebrow. But before he could speak,

“You killed our friend!” Shrill shrieked, breathing heavy, eyes maniacally wide, “You—”

“Shut up, Theodoar.” Commander shot him a glare, shutting him up immediately.

“Y-yes sir.”

“Besides...” Commander’s gaze moved back towards Lance (which absolutely did not scare him, nope not at all—) and smirked. (Oh who was he kidding, he was terrified.)

“I have an idea to sufficiently…punish our little red friend over here.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back as if to survey his catch, but leaving his knee sufficiently planted. “Who’s wearing blue.”

Shit. Time to improvise.

Lance rolled his eyes, glared, and raised an eyebrow somehow at the same time. “Yeah. And I say again, what. Does. It. Matter. To you?”

Commander grinned, wide smiles and pointy teeth making him look predatory. It took everything Lance had in him not to shiver.

“Nothing at all. It won’t make a difference anyway with what we have planned, dear.”

The comms were still silent. Lance‘s heart sunk.

Lance yelped as the Commander dragged him up, and towards a nearby river. Full of acid. Lance started kicking out at the alien holding him. This was most certainly NOT going to plan now.

Oh geez. This is just great.

Heyyy whaddya know! This fucker is doing what what you were too weak to do for you! How kind.

Who the heck asked your opinion?

He dragged Lance up to the edge and, grabbing him by his throat, dangled him over the water-like substance.

“Goodbye, former Red Paladin of Voltron.”

And then he was falling.

Before Lance could fully register that oh god he had just been dropped and underneath was a river of essentially acid he was under.

The liquid surrounding him was a pretty pale pink, and made the penetrating light seem even more so.

And it hurt.

It hurt so bad. Lance let out a silent scream, small bubbles of oxygen escaping, some of the liquid getting in his throat and burning his lungs. It burned his eyes, it burned his legs, it burned his finger tips, he could even feel it burn bone.

The last thing he heard was the liquid-like substance gurgling around him, before sweet silence.

Well, at least they aren’t going to go after Keith anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~

Ice has finally melted. No longer sturdy but instead slipping and falling, hitting everything in his path.

But maybe this isn’t a bad thing.

The Ground can be destroyed; fissures can be fatal, cracking and growing until everything is in unidentifiable pieces, unable to ever heal. Life can be destroyed; death a mortal enemy, able to take anything and everything with a moment‘s thought, never to be returned. Fire can be put out; flames dying out until they are nothing but coals, nothing but a memory of the inferno that came before. Air can disappear; sucked in to help others live, and expelled something different, something that can’t change back without trees, that are cut down.

But Ice.

Ice will never truly disappear. Melt it, and it will become water. Heat it up further and it will become gas. And the gas will go back to being water. Where, eventually, the cold will seep in, recreating Ice, even as it falls.

The water cycle is eternal, after all.

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

Lance’s eyelids twitched at the feelings of fingers in his hair. They were slow and methodically moving through his locks in time with a hum in air. It was soothing to his pulsing head, and Lance sighed contentedly, turning over and going back to sleep.

He felt safe.

~

The next time Lance awoke, he was immediately on edge. His body tensed, and the fingers in his hair stilled, before they were removed. The hum he had heard was quieted and stopped.

“You actually awake this time, Lance?” A low voice asked. It was smooth and calm, rolling over Lance’s mind like waves of the ocean. Powerful, but smooth and cool.

“Who are you, and where am I?” Lance retorted, hoarse, but demanding.

The man—at least he assumed they were a man?—chuckled. “So, awake then. That’s good, I was beginning to get worried.”

Lance tried to sit up and immediately went fell back to the stranger’s lap, his head screaming protests. Lance hissed in pain. The stranger immediately began running his fingers through Lance’s hair, which to Lance’s surprise nullified some of the pain.

With the stranger’s even stranger-sounding hum back in the air, he looked around at what he could see around him. Huh. It kind of looked like one of those Onsen things Shiro had showed them during Team Bonding Moments, but less…Japanese-y? It smells like the ocean, he thought wistfully. He shut his eyes for one blissful moment, remembering his home.

“What… happened?” He asked hoarsely, wincing as the stranger pulled on a tangle.

“Sorry. You don’t remember?”

“...No? My head just hurts.” Lance answered hesitantly, biting his lip. What a situation he got himself into. Stuck someplace and with someone he didn’t know, with no bayard or armor as far as he’d noticed, luckily he still had his undersuit though, and a pain in his head, for reasons he didn’t know. But he knew he could remember. If he only dug a little deeper...

But the stranger nodded, as if understanding. “Yeah. That happens when you die.”

Lance shot up in an instant, the throbbing and ringing in his head meaning little as the memories rushed back. Going to the planet Jad-something-or-other, the three Galra jets, and being caught…

Lance choked. He had died. Oh no, he was dead. He could still feel his quintessence, so did that mean he was wrong? That even after death the only useful part of him hadn’t been given to his beloved oceans? Lance was faintly aware of someone calling his name, but he didn’t care at the moment.

He’d failed.

He’d failed his team, that mini-squadron, just one, which should’ve been enough for even him to handle, had probably already alerted a whole brigade, leaving two lions to try and handle them on their own, calling out for Red, wondering why they weren’t answering, unable to form Voltron until they got Keith, and they’d never even know and they were going to forget him and he was never going to see his loved ones again, never going to see Hunk, or Coran, or Veronica, or Blue—

A bunch of water fell from the air, leaving Lance gasping and wet. His head snapped up, and his eyes met with the stranger’s for the first time.

His eyes were a royal blue, small, but accented by his strange blue hair-like tendrils and lighter blue skin. In his rather muscular arms was a bucket.

“What…?” Lance’s voice was still hoarse, and he knew now that it was from the acid, but of course that didn’t mean he actually knew what was happening.

The stranger leaned away from Lance and dropped the bucket, moving his arm to rub the back of his neck, but never broke eye contact.

“You were having a bad panic attack,” The stranger sounded awkward, and like he really wanted to look away from the Cuban. “You weren’t responding, and I’ve always had trouble snapping people out of those, and I just...panicked.” He looked towards the bucket with apprehension and slight guilt. It made sense. Lance could tell the panic attack had been bad, his chest still ached, and the stranger likely panicked, throwing water over him, which Lance knew usually wasn’t the best way to snap anyone out of panic attacks.

“Hey, don’t worry about it man,” Lance told the man, making sure to send the man a wide grin, “Thanks for that by the way.” Lance tilted his head, pushing the lingering panic back.

Can’t run this man away before I even get to know him.

“What’s you name anyway? I’ve totally been calling you ‘The Stranger’ in my head this whole time, and don’t think it’s quite fair you know my name while I don’t know yours.” Lance blinked. “How do you know my name, anyway?”

The stranger smiled, a wide eyed, wide grinned spectacle that rivaled Lance’s own, mischievousness shining through.

“I know your name because I’ve been watching you,” The stranger said cheekily, tone absolutely not matching the words said. Lance immediately tensed, very aware of his positioning next to the man.

As if guessing Lance’s thoughts, the man snorted.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a creep or anything.”

Yeah, cuz you seem like a model 30-or-so-year old right now, Lance thought bitterly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to introduce myself,” The man put his hand out to Lance, looking down on him from above. “My name is Blaytz of Nalquod, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lance’s eye’s widened, and he looked the man up and down, fully viewing him for the first time. The man had things that looked like gills, two on each side of his neck, and muscles for days (Just like Allura described). He also had light and dark blue skin and...hair? Question mark? (Just like Coran described)

Lance stared slack-jawed at the hand before him. The hand belonging to Blaytz, the ruler of Nalquod and first Blue Paladin oh gosh, before looking up at the man’s humor-filled face.

Lance let out a 'scree' like noise, looking back towards his still outstretched hand and back to his face.

“What?” Lance squeaked, eyes comically wide, alternating between focusing on the masculine face before him and the outstretched hand. Lance felt like fainting again, but instead tentatively shook Blaytz's hand.

Blaytz (oh my god he was never going to get over that) chuckled, sitting down in front of Lance and throwing the bucket behind him.

“Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Pretty cool?!” Lance freaked. Just a little of course though, he was totally in control right now. “You’re the FIRST Blue Paladin! You’re, like, my hero!” He threw his hands in the air, accenting his raging emotions. “How is this even possible?!”

…In control, yes.

Blaytz positively beamed under the attention, even Lance could tell. He laughed as if this was the first time in years he had gotten this kind of attention, and, Lance realized, it was probably was.

“Why thank you for asking,” Blaytz chuckled, “Well, I don’t actually know, aside from a few theories.”

Lance winced. That's right. They were both dead.

“But I can give you details on my last battle with Zarkon.” Lance blinked, and smiled.

“That, would actually be pretty cool.”

Blaytz smiled and cleared his throat.

“We were in the battle with Zarkon, you know, and it wasn’t going well” Lance listened attentively, giving his (ex?) predecessor his full respect. He didn’t think this could be easy to talk about.

“Altea was in flames, people were screaming, and although Black refused to let Zarkon fly him, it didn’t do anyone much good.

“Allura and Coran, Alfor’s daughter and Adviser, were put into Cryo-Pods to keep them safe, but none of us Paladins had that luxury. We were out fighting, with Gyrgan and Yellow and Alfor and the Castle of Lions in the air, and me and Trigel on the ground, all busy fighting for our lives.

“We had been mourning Zarkon that day. What a twisted irony, don’t you think? The same man that we had been missing so much, comes back just to kill all of us and our people. Spreading lies about how we had destroyed Daibazaal.

“We were so confused, but when Alfor gave us the order to hide the lions, we obeyed immediately. He was our second after all, and we were very obviously not going to listen to Zarkon.

“I knew exactly where I was going to hide ol’ Blue. Earth.” Blaytz turned to Lance at this. “The planet was new, very underdeveloped, but it had an abundance of water. 71% Blue’s element, it was perfect. I wanted to hide her in the depths of the ocean to ensure she could heal quickly, but Zarkon’s fleets had other plans.” Blaytz shook his head, turning away once again.

“Alfor opened us wormholes to where we had decided to leave our lions, but as I was heading to Blue, a couple Galra managed to hit me with their blasters. Luckily, Blue had some medicine in her so I was able to survive long enough to fly her to Earth. Unluckily however, I couldn’t get her to the water. I just barely managed to get her into the cave, and write protective sigils. So the wounds she got from battle took a very long time to heal.”

“So are we in some kind of afterlife then? Are the other original Paladins here too?” Lance asked after Blaytz quieted, staring off into space (ha).

Blaytz chuckled. “Sort of, kid. We’re in some kind of In-Between. Not quite experiencing what happens when one dies, whatever that may be, but not alive either. And no, as far as I know, none of the other Paladins are here.” Blaytz turned to the ground, posture pensive. “Although...Black’s quintessence has been strange for a while...But I think no.”

Lance tilted to be in Blaytz’s view. “But why only us then? I mean, you I can understand, but me? Versus all the other original Paladins?”

Blaytz smiled down at him. “I believe it’s because of our quintessence’s nature.”

Yeah, that didn’t help much.

“What do you mean?”

“This is just a theory of course, but I assume that because of how fluid us Blue Paladins have to be, something as permanent as death doesn’t affect us very well.”

Oh, and if that didn’t shoot a pang through his heart.

Lance looked away from Blaytz and towards the ground.

“You are a Blue Paladin you know."

Lance’s head snapped up, and he looked back towards Blaytz. Blaytz continued talking, as if unaware of the shock from the younger. “Even if you piloted Red, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re Blue’s Paladin. Or that your quintessence matches hers, way better than Allura’s.”

“But Blue hates me.” Lance’s voice came out barely a whisper.

Blaytz smiled down on Lance. “I highly doubt that.”

“Then why won’t she talk to me!” Lance yelled, tears welling in his eyes. He wiped them away immediately, leaving the arm up, blocking his face from his ex-predecessor. “Then why won’t she talk to me?” He asked much quieter, voice cracking, tears starting to fall. Blaytz brought him in to a hug, and shame permeated throughout Lance’s being, his body flushed. He hated this. He hated that he was bothering Blaytz with all this, that he couldn’t even hold in his stupid emotions.

God, how was it he couldn’t disappear even after death?

Blaytz began doing his quiet humming thing again, rocking Lance as he sobbed quietly into his chest.

“She was with me my whole life,” Lance whispered quietly after a while, afraid that he would bother Blaytz if he spoke too loudly. Blaytz hummed quieter, listening. “I’ve been feeling her for as long as I can remember. I just couldn’t realize it until I got into her cockpit. And I didn’t realize how much that connection really meant to me until she was gone.”

Blaytz hugged Lance tighter.

“Hey…” He murmured softly, “It’ll be okay.”

Lance sniffled, accepting the hug. He didn’t know why, but something about this place, about Blaytz, made Lance’s inhibitions flow away like the water he was often compared to.

Yeah, Lance felt safe.

~

“So Blaytz…”

“Yeah?”

Lance had been with Blaytz for many Quintants, and all in all it was going pretty well. The food was good, the water felt great, constantly, at all times, but now, Lance was...confused.

“What...exactly...are you doing?”

Blaytz looked up at Lance from where he had been twirling freaking water in the air with a hum.

“What do you mean little guy?”

“I mean—” Lance gestured to the general area where the water was twirling lazily about “That.”

Blaytz looked at the water confusedly before realization lit up in his eyes. “Oh. This!”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, that. Water doesn’t normally fly in the air, Blaytz.” The Cuban snarked jokingly.

...partly.

His companion turned to him, waving the water back to the pool, and smirked.

“Why do ya wanna know? You interested?”

“Uh, yes.”

Blaytz laughed, in that strange way of his that seemed to make everything seem happy, and stood up, clapping Lance on the back.

“Simple! In this...” Blaytz trailed off, gesturing wildly to everything around them, “Here, everything is technically just water.”

Lance was confused.

“What?”

“Yeah, here, lemme show ya.”

Blaytz lifted his hand, and right before Lance’s eyes, one of the stone statues surrounding a pool-hot-tub-thing that depicted Blue fell into simple water, and swirled around to form Blue posing as if to fire an ice beam.

Lance was in awe.

“So wait, everything here is water?”

“Yup.” Blaytz puffed his chest out proudly.

“...Even the food?”

“Yup!”

Lance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He stared the proudly grinning Blaytz up and down, looking for a sign the older was messing with him.

“…Yeah, I don’t get it. What does that have to do with you being able to manipulate water?”

Blaytz ‘tsk’-ed, waving his finger like a mother disappointed in her child. “No no Lance, you don’t get it,” Blaytz said airily in a false lecturing tone, shaking his head. “Everything here is water.”

“...Yeah? I thought we established that already?”

Blaytz shook his head. “No, like everything.”

Lance stared blankly at Blaytz, unimpressed. Just as he was about to interject that ‘Yeah, Blaytz had mentioned that already’ his surroundings completely melted away. Everything, all disappeared into pure cyan-blue energy. Quintessence, his mind supplied helpfully. They were existing in a vat of pure Quintessence. Lance was awed. It made since now. Of course, water Quintessence, when one was subjected to a pure version of it for long enough, would be possible to manipulate, especially if one was bored of just seeing blue blue blue all the time and was desperate for something different.

“Whoa,” Lance breathed, awed, as the place Lance was beginning to see as home came back together, like water falling back over a cliff smoothly. “I think I get it now.”

“Cool, right?”

“It’s amazing!” Lance’s naturally boisterous attitude came back full force with the discovery, “Is it hard to do?”

“It’s rather simple actually! I can even teach ya even if ya want!”

Lance’s resulting grin was bright enough to match Blaytz’s.

“Really?! I could do it?!”

“Heck yeah! And—” Blaytz sent a conspiratorial wink towards Lance. “—then you can’t argue that you’re not my protegé anymore, little Blue."

Lance flushed immediately, and turned away. He hit Blaytz’s arm weakly, taking a stiff defensive stance, and rubbed his arm covered in his undersuit.

“Stoooppp...”

Lance could practically feel Blaytz’s grin, even if he couldn’t see it.

“Whaaat? Does Wittle Wance not wanna be Uncky Bwaytz’s stwudent?”

“Shut up!”

~

It was very bad. Terrible. Horrendous. A total debacle.

“Duck left!” A sword swung Lance’s way and, in a moment of genius, ducked right.

Blaytz’s second sword-scimitar-promptly slammed straight into his face.

It broke his nose when it hit—for the SIXTH TIME. Really, you would’ve thought that he would’ve learned after the first couple times, but no!—and Blaytz immediately dropped his blunted blades and rushed over with the actually useful version of Holy Water. He sighed. Again.

“Lance, I told you to duck left.”

“I know,” the Cuban mumbled dejectedly. He was ruining the Nalquodian’s mood, after he had been so excited before…

“It’s alright. I wasn’t expecting anything different,” Blaytz laughed, and dunked bandages in the Actual Holy Water, before pressing them to Lance’s misshaped nose. “I did pretty horrible in training at first too. So just stick with it. You’ll get better at it eventually.”

Lance smiled as Blaytz pulled away the bandages, his nose perfectly healed and aligned.

Darn straight he would. He would crush this training.

“But if you think this is bad, wait until we get to Bending. It...may or may not be harder than I originally made it seem."

…Maybe.

~

It had been many Phoebs since Lance first entered the Not-Afterlife, as he called it. And if you were to ask him, he’d honestly answer that he was the happiest he could ever remember himself being. Blaytz’s presence chased away most ALL doubts and insecurities he’d had back in the Land of the Living, he could manipulate—bend, as Blaytz insists he say—water pretty well, and, best of all, he was never brought down for how weak he was!

Sure, Lance thought to himself, Blaytz may look like he pities me every once in a while, but whatever! At least I know I’m not a bother to him.

No, that particular insecurity had been thrown out the metaphorical window (And a physical one. Water bending was weird) very quickly. Blaytz reminded him of Blue like that.

Who happened to be one of Lance’s current musings at the moment.

“Hey Lance,” Blaytz asked, sidling up towards his student and protege, “Have you noticed…?"

“—Anything weird about Blue and the other Lions?” Lance finished. “I was about to ask you about that.”

“So you do sense something’s off.”

Lance nodded up at his mentor. “For the last few Vargas or so, I would say.

Blaytz sat next to Lance, both looking up at a statue of Blue. This was both their favorites, it being Lance’s first water bending success.

“It doesn’t feel super bad? But...” Blaytz hesitated, looking up at the statue with concern. “I’m not too sure on how to describe it...”

Lance thought for a moment.

“...it’s almost like the lions are high?” He said hesitantly.

Blaytz looked at Lance. “High…?”

“You know, that Earth thing I joked about a while ago?”

“Ah, that...”

"You don’t remember, do you.”

“No no, it’s here somewhere...” Blaytz scrunched up his face, before a lightbulb moment.

“Ohhh! That. That actually fits…surprisingly well?”

Lance looked towards the older. “But there’s something else with it too.”

Blaytz nodded. “It’s almost like the lions are both getting too much energy, but also losing too much energy?”

“It also seems like they’re being hurt by the energy, too."

“Like it’s destroying them, in the smaller ways but leading up to the larger.”

Lance and Blaytz shared a concerned look. That was not good.

“What can we do from here?” Lance immediately asked, face stony.

Blaytz shook his head. “Nothing,” the answer was quick, but remorseful all the same. “I’d tried everything I could think of, both with the whole Arus situation, and when I first got here. There’s nothing.” Lance winced at the reminder of that situation but barreled on.

“Well then how can I get back?”

Blaytz shook his head again. Lance's heart sunk. He had been expecting the answer to be that, but he avoided asking the question so he could at least pretend.

Lance shook his head and growled, stood up, and began to pace.

“No, no! There has to be something!”

“Well, unless the universe decides to send a shock throughout itself equivalent to that generated with time travel, I think we’re stuck here.” Blaytz snapped. He was definitely wound up too.

Lance groaned, pulling his hair.

“This is not good Blaytz, what are we—“

“Lance, shh.”

The Cuban shut up, immediately on guard. After a second he felt it too.

The lions were scared.

Not just their Paladinds, whomever they may be (Lance hoped they were his friends, hoped they were all still alive although it may not matter with this new situation, he guessed), but the lions themselves. And it was for their own sake.

Now that. Was not good.

“What could possibly be bad enough to scare all the lions for their lives enough for it to get to us?” Lance breathed out, almost scared of the answer.

"I don’t know kid,” Blaytz worriedly replied, “I don’t know.”

The next Varga was the most tension-filled the two had every experienced in their lives. Along with the fear that came from the lions fearing for their lives, there was also the strange premonition the two had, the feeling that something was ripping, destroying itself.

It was simultaneously relieving and terrifying when the premonition disappeared, the lions’ and paladins’ essences following close behind.

~

Lance didn’t know how long it’d been. Vargas, Ticks, days, weeks, months, he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel anymore. He didn’t want to feel anymore. The last vestiges of hunger pain had long since left, leaving Lance curled up in room, dark thoughts roaming free for the first time since he had come to the stupid place, and met stupid Blaytz!

You failed them!

Wow, I can’t believe you actually did it. You actually fucked up enough to destroy the legendary Lions of Voltron. Wow.

How come you can’t even manage to die properly?!

He’d thought Blue leaving him initially had been bad; but now she was gone for good, taking with her all Green, Red, Black, Yellow, their Paladins…

Lance thought he couldn’t feel worse than he did when leaning against Blue’s shield, begging for her not to leave him, not like everyone else, but evidently he had been wrong. Again.

Lance curled tighter into himself, sobs ripping through his thin frame. The voices were right. He was so dang pathetic.

Someone knocked on his door.

“Lance?” The unfairly calm and steady voice of Blaytz whispered. “I brought you some food.”

“Go away,” The Cuban murmured into his arms. He wasn’t ready for this. “I don’t want to eat.”

There was silence for a couple ticks, before Blaytz spoke up again.

“I’m coming in.”

Lance snapped to attention. Now? When his already pathetic face was covered in snot and tears? When he hadn’t even had the chance to apply concealer or anything?

He furiously rubbed at his face, “N-no—”

Blaytz walked in and immediately stalked over to where Lance was curled up by the wall and (still!) sobbing. (Tsk tsk. Can’t even hide your emotions when he’s obviously grieving as well. Pathetic.)

“Lance,” The first Blue Paladin stated, one hand on the Cuban’s shoulder and the other setting the tray of curry down on Lance's nightstand, “It’s not your fault.”

Lance broke down again, and shook his head. But it IS my fault!

“No,” Blaytz pulled him in for a hug. “It’s not your fault. Not one bit.”

“But Blaytz—”

“No buts, Lance. It’s not your fault.”

Lance just sobbed some more. Big, ugly tears rolled down his cheeks, while his lips quivered but pursed.

Blaytz began rocking Lance from side to side, humming as he did so. He hadn’t heard this one before. It sounded melancholy, fitting of his mood.

After a while Lance began calming down, his sobs turning to sniffles.

“I’m so sorry Lance,” Blaytz said, giving his protege a kiss on the forehead. Like a mother, Lance thought, before the words registered in his post-break-down mind.

He jolted.

“Whoa, you’re sorry? What for?” Lance was incredulous, tears stopping immediately. What could Blaytz possibly have to apologize for?

His mentor set him down, and handed him the now-cold curry, before he spoke.

“Earlier,” He started, eyes facing the ground as Lance bit into his food, hunger coming back full force. “I was so wrapped up in my own mind, I completely forgot about you.

Lance blinked, and took another bite of the perfect-as-usual curry. That’s what Blaytz had been upset about?

“Hey, it’s okay.” crooned Lance. “I’m not upset, it's totally understandable.”

“Exactly. Everyone else has been absolutely horrible to you, making you think that, so...” Blaytz took a deep breath, and Lance decided to ignore the crack he had heard in his voice, “So I wanted to be better.” He finished quietly.

“B-better?” Lance asked, flustered.

Blaytz nodded.

“When you were born—or a few Vargas after, maybe—I felt a weird sensation. I blinked, and the next thing I knew, I was in the Real World for the first time in over 10,000 years. I noticed something was weird when not a single person turned my way.” Blaytz frowned, remembering something from that time. Probably annoying, from the face he was making. “Before I could figure anything out, I was back here.” Blaytz gestured to everything around him.

“It happened more and more often, until 2 Deca-Phoebs later, when I finally realized the pattern,” Blaytz looked up at Lance, eyes showing his exhaustion, but also a smile.

“A little boy from Cuba, who loved his family with all his heart, and they in return. Who accepted any changes those family members made with an open heart and mind, and always, always loved them. He was always there. I realized then, that I was there to watch over him.”

Lance listened dutifully, despite his confusion. He knew by this point how Blaytz told stories.

“I was seeing you, Lance. From the perspective of the Blue Lion, I guess."

Lance’e eyes widened and his body tensed.

“Yeah Lance. You’re that person I saw” Blaytz seemed to immediately understand what he was feeling, instantly going to soothing his feelings. They really were two peas in a pod.

“The point is, I know how others make you feel about yourself. I know how you make you feel about yourself. And the notion that you’d blame yourself didn’t even cross my mind until today. And I’m so, so sorry, Lance.”

The two sat awkwardly by each other, neither knowing what to say. One because he'd practically opened his soul out to the other, and the other because he'd just had everything he'd kept hidden read like a book.
So, thought Lance. Why don’t I try doing something?

Lance pulled the blue (literally) man into a hug.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself either. It wasn’t your fault. For anything." he spoke quietly, but with a firm voice.

Blaytz’s silence spoke mounds.

"I'm not lying, Blaytz. You're just as much a victim as I am. It's as you said. There's nothing-"Lance's voice cracked and tears filled his eyes, "-we could've done. So don't blame yourself."

Blaytz returned the hug.

They would be okay.

~

“How was that one?”

“Hmmm… I think that one was pretty good! Definitely usable.”

“Yes! Okay, okay, how about this one.”

Lance gave Blaytz his signature finger guns and flirtatious grin.

“Baby, you’re like a black hole. Because you absolutely devour people.”

“No.”

“Really? I liked that one…”

“Hmmm… Yeah, still horrible.”

“Try again, squirt.”

Lance snickered. “Squirt, you’re so old Blaytz.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m only 241 years old!”

“What.”

“Uh, yeah? Well, ten-thousand 241 plus a couple hundred if you wanna be technical, but I haven’t exactly aged in that time so...”

"No no, you're 241 years old?!"

“Yes? Why is that surprising? Wait, how old are you?”

“...18? Maybe 19? Ish?”

“…”

“Blaytz no.”

“…You Babey."
“No. Stop.”

“Yes!”

“No! You’re not even using the word correctly!”

“How did I not know you were a literal baby??? I’ve watched you for so long!”

“Yeah, how did you not notice my age? Were you thinking the gaps between visits were larger than they were or something?”

“...No?”

"Blaytz.”

“What.”

Lance grinned. “I’m attracted to you like the Earth is attracted to the sun—with large force inversely proportional to the distance squared.”

“That was absolutely horrible Lance. Never ever use that. Nobody but you would ever understand it.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Ever.”

~

Lance wasn’t fully better. No, most certainly not. He still had bad days, might even continue to have them for the rest of his (not?) life. Blaytz always helped if too much pressure was put on the cracks, but things always slipped through.

Lance was currently puking into the sink, with Blaytz murmuring soothing words and rubbing his back.

"You still blame yourself.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, an observation. Lance nodded, before his stomach revolted again and he was back to the sink.

Lance hated it, hated himself. Hated that he couldn’t stop blaming himself, and missing his friends. It had been better before, when at least he could pretend they were alive, but now they were gone. All of them. There was no way he could see them again.

“How did you do it?” Lance asked Blaytz in a period of steadiness. Seriously, he felt like Hunk. “How did you survive not being able to see the people you loved?”

Blaytz handed Lance a glass of water, which he took in shaking hands.

“It took a bit,” Blaytz admitted as Lance slowly drank the water. “I blamed myself too, ya know.”

Lance sat down next to his mentor and snuggled up against him, to both provide and take comfort from another’s presence.

Blaytz smiled, slightly bitter, down at him.
“I just laid in the void I was in, practically drowning in all my emotions, which was probably the thing that started this place’s creation.” Blaytz gestured around him with his free arm.

“When I would travel around the universe, I would pick up on a lot of different therapy techniques that different races had. I would memorize them, and put them in a book in case I ever forgot.” Blaytz ran his fingers through Lance’s hair slowly. Lance hummed and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I had a book like that.”

“A good idea. Anyway, there was one race’s techniques that particularly caught my eyes. I can’t pronounce the name,” Blaytz laughed, “But it’s similar to your Earth’s art therapy.”

Lance knew about those. His sister Veronica would often try to get him to do them with her.

“So that saves me a full explanation at least,” Blaytz said amusedly. Oh. He had said that out loud.

“There were two that came to mind one cycle or so later though. One, was a letter method. You design and write a letter/card to someone that you never intend to send. This I found useful, because it’s a way to feel like your sorting out the feelings you have with someone, even if you couldn’t actually talk it through with them.” Blaytz bent a couple papers into existence, before sending them away with a flick of the wrist. “The other method I thought good, was an alter project.”

Lance perked up. He knew that one.

“It’s one where you build a shrine to honor or remember someone, regardless of whether they’re actually alive or—”

“Like what families do on Day of the Dead!” Lance blurted, jerking away from Blaytz in excitement. He wanted to do that!

Blaytz laughed. “Yeah, just like that. But more permanent, and you’re constantly adding to it, instead of just making the design and leaving it.”

Lance jumped up. “Well what are we waiting for?! Let’s go start some!”

Blaytz chuckled lowly and let Lance drag him away.

The kid deserved to feel happy.

~

“Uh, Blaytz?”

“What’s up, little Blue?”

Blaytz was having fun reshaping the statues of Blue, and normally Lance would be with him, but something was different that Quintant.

Lance’s neck had been feeling funny recently. Even against the soft flowy fabric of his new jacket and shirt (His first act of business when he learned enough about Water Bending), it had been extremely sensitive. It was constantly sensitive, somehow aching from fabric being near it. And lord forbid Lance rub his neck. He wouldn’t call it painful, but it was certainly… something.

And now, looking into the pool’s clear reflective surface, Lance could see the problem. Or, maybe. He didn’t exactly know what it was.

Blaytz came over and looked over at the pool with Lance, seemingly not the noticing the problems located smack dab on both sides of his neck.

“What’re we looking at?” He loudly whispered, because they were experts at that kinda thing, and he obviously didn’t see it.

Lance stared incredulously at his mentor, who immediately looked defensive.

“Hey, what're you givin me that look for?”

“Blaytz,” the Cuban stated voice blank, “I literally have gills now.”

Blaytz immediately stopped, face slack (that might’ve been hilarious under better circumstances) for a few Ticks before his focus honed in on Lance’s neck like a heat-tracking missile, where a pair of suspiciously familiar gills rested on each side of his neck, and just as familiar marks were showing lightly on his cheeks and chin. Blaytz’s eyes widened.

Lance nodded, taking that to mean he was freaked out. “I know this is weird, I’m actually kind of freaking out t—”

"That’s awesome Lance!” Blaytz picked up the Cuban and spun him gleefully despite the numerous shocked protests, before hugging him tightly and setting him down. “Oh my gosh this is amazing! I’m so happy for you—”

“But it’s not amazing!” Lance blurted, interrupting the older man. “It’s not! I’m weird, even weirder than I was when I flew giant sentient space lions in a 10,000 space war, not to mention learned how to manipulate a freaking element, and that’s literally never happened before! Never! Not once in human history! I’m a FREAK, and this just makes it worse!”

The poolside was silent.

“N-not that I think gills are weird!” Lance stammered, backtracking immediately upon realizing who exactly he was talking to, “It’s just—”

“You feel as if you’re losing your humanity,” Blaytz interrupted, voice full of understanding, “One of the few things you thought wouldn’t change from the Space War.”

Lance looked down, eyebrows furrowed with guilt. His mentor had hit the nail on the head with that one.

“...yeah...”

Blaytz laid his hand on Lance’s shoulder, and Lance looked up to his mentor.

“It’s not wrong to think that way,” He said soothingly, “It’s normal, I would be doing the same thing if my body was changing so drastically.”

“But why?” Lance asked, voice cracking. God, he was pathetic. Even now, he still couldn’t get himself together enough to stop his voice from cracking like a pubescent teenager. (Lance ignored the fact that 18/19 still counted as a teenager, that kind of thinking wouldn’t be good for him)

Blaytz tensed in front of him, before pulling away and curling in on himself slightly. Lance looked up at his mentor curiously.

“I…think I owe you an apology...”

Lance was confused, but sat quietly as his mentor pondered over something, eyebrows drawn.

"This...might’ve been my fault,” Blaytz continued slowly. Lance was surprised at the lack of anger he felt, just curiosity. He trusted Blaytz, more than he feared the gills.

(And wasn't that a scary thought.)

“What do you mean?” Lance prompted calmly. He didn’t want Blaytz to think he was mad.

Blaytz looked away nevertheless.

“It’s possible...” He whispered lowly. “That you being here has made your quintessence’s appearance begin mold to look like mine...”

Lance blinked. Well that was random. But then again, space. Why was he surprised at anything anymore, honestly.

“How would that be your fault? You didn’t exactly ask for it to happen. Besides,” Lance grinned, and bent water from the pond-lake-ravine-thing and dumped it on the spluttering older’s head. “Now I can swim without fear of drowning. Or, well, I will soon. They...don’t seem very formed yet.”

Blaytz shook all the water off like a dog and laughed. His protege had sure grown. Both mentally and physically. Besides the gills, he had grown a lot height wise, coming up to Blaytz’s shoulders now, and you could definitely see some muscle where there was none before. And now, instead of spiraling into a full-blown panic attack over others’ reactions of his gills, he merely took it as it was and tried to find positives (after a little bit of panic though, which was totally normal).

Blaytz frowned then, surveying Lance. Lance was so young. In Nalquod, he would’ve either been studying or going out to play with friends. A child his age never would’ve been let even near a normal war, much less a 10,000 year old one. Blaytz was guiltily a little bit happy Lance had come though, for multiple pretty-obvious reasons. But it had been almost 3 Deca-Phoebs since he had come into the In-Between, but unlike Blaytz himself, Lance had been growing like a beanstalk.

Maybe it’s because the circumstances are different? Blaytz mused, thoughts rolling around as he attempted to connect the bits.

He broke out of his thoughts when a hand waved in front of his face.

“Blaytz? Earth to Blaytz?” Lance had been concerned when Blaytz suddenly went into deep thought, maybe Lance hadn’t said the right thing? “Or, I guess not Earth. Weird-In-Between-thingy to Blaytz? Hello?” He waved his hand in front of Blaytz’s face and the man blinked.

“Oh, sorry Lance. I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Lance tilted his head, carefully, now very aware of the sensitive developing gills on his neck.

“You’ve grown.” He said simply. But there was still a lot to unpack. His voice was full of pride, but also of concern and confusion, and a whole over bunch of stuff he didn’t understand.

"Yeah? I noticed, but what about it?”

“I never did.”

Lance stopped then. Blaytz was right. Lance had been growing a lot, and yet Blaytz never did. Hadn’t for over 10,000 years.

“That doesn’t make sense...” He mused.

“Exactly. I’m thinking it might’ve been because the circumstances were different, but…We both died, so I don't know how much it really matters?”

Lance winced slightly at the reminder, but agreed. They had both died. Lance from acid and Blaytz, his wounds. So why, for all purposes, Lance still pretty much alive?

"Now that you mention it...This makes no sense. How can I still feel tired, and hungry, and pain? I’m dead!”

“Well,” Blaytz started, still pondering. “Again, this is just a theory, but how I’ve seen it is…kinda like a seesaw!”

"A seesaw?"

“Or a balance scale, whatever works for you. Either way, on one side is Death, and the other is Life. We’re somewhere in the middle, keeping the seesaw from tipping us in one full direction. When I was hit, I stayed alive for quite a few Vargas, and likely used up most of my quintessence. So the balance is likely tipped in death’s favor, making me unable to age or feel much pain, but making it so I have to eat and sleep more than you do, possibly even more than I did when alive.

“You, on the other hand, died a very quick death. No less painful, I don’t doubt, but much quicker, and your body didn’t have time to use quintessence to try and save you, I guess. So I would assume your scales are tipped more in life’s favor, allowing you to grow, and also requiring that you get less nourishment than usual, but still requiring it.”

Lance nodded, the theory made sense. “It could also be how I died,” he chimed in. “I died in acidic water, basically our element. That might’ve helped tip the scales in my favor.”

Blaytz grinned and rubbed Lance’s hair, said man squawking in indignation before slapping away the hand and trying to fix his hair. “Good job little Blue! I didn’t even think of that, I’m proud of you!”

Despite the ruffled hair, Lance smiled.

He was going to be okay.

~

This was it. The moment of truth.

Lance gulped. He had one shot, he couldn’t mess this up.

He took in a deep breath and looked towards his target.

3

2

1!
Lance rushed out from where he had been hiding and tackled his Target. The large man yelped in surprise. He tried to regain his balance, but alas, the younger’s momentum was too much and he fell to the ground with an ‘oof’.

Lance grinned from his perch atop the older man. He had Succeeded.

“Happy Birthday Blaytz!” Lance yelled joyfully.

Confetti flew from inconspicuously placed canons and flew down onto the two as one whooped and the other stared in surprise.

"What?”

Lance grinned at the man below him, and repositioned himself firmly on his chest to keep him pinned.

“Yup!” He smirked down victoriously. “You mentioned it, I made it happen.”

“But I mentioned it Phoebs ago! And just barely in passing!”

“Maybe so, but you have to remember how many family members I have. I’ve built up quite the knack for remembering birthdays.” Lance snarked playfully. "And besides, it's not like you can just NOT celebrate! I created a really pretty dress for this!"

And that he had. The dress he made was an ice blue that when down to mid thigh on his newly-shaved legs. It also had white glitter-like sparkles on the top. (He may or may not have based it off of Elsa's dresses).

It had taken Lance a while to bring up the subject with Blaytz, but after coming to the conclusion that the months with everyone in the castle was a long enough time to go with hiding what he liked to wear, and that he did NOT want to keep it hidden for possible eternity, Lance had very quickly ran up to his mentor and said he liked wearing skirts and dresses. The Nalquodians were very accepting people, and Blaytz was no different, so by the next week Lance had been wearing skirts as often as his khakis.

Blaytz grinned up at his protege. “That’s so awesome Little Blue! But uh,” Blaytz struggled lightly where his protege had gotten him in a very good pin, with skill luck. “Could you let me up so we could actually do something?”

Lance hummed in thought, shifting as he ‘debated’ the idea. “mmmm...no.”

“Aww come on! It’s my birthday!” Blaytz was exasperated, but amused. Lance was almost like his—how did the humans say it?—sodium copy, down to even the now fully formed gills, umber-brown cheek and chin marks, and Very Tall genes. By this point, Blaytz was willing to admit that Lance would probably outgrow him in 1-2 years, with the younger standing at a rough 190 Kralas to Blaytz's rough 196.

"That doesn't matter!~” Lance grinned at his mentor. “You don’t need feet to open a present.”

Blaytz blinked, thrown, before grinning. “You got me a present?” He asked, emotions whirling like a cacophony in his heart.

Lance nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Uh, duh. I care about you, of course I’m going to give you a present.”

Blaytz could feel tears gathering in his eyes. On his planet, giving presents meant the giver surely and truly cared for the receiver.

Blaytz surged forward and pulled Lance down in a hug.

“You’re like the son I never had.” Blaytz’s voice broke. He hadn’t felt this much pure (positive) emotion since his husband had proposed. The pair sadly (or maybe luckily, all things considered) hadn’t been able to have children before the Massacre, and Blaytz had thought he would never have the chance.

But, miraculously, over ten thousand years after the disaster, Blaytz had his chance. This child, who seemed to shine brighter than the sun, gave it to him.

Lance tensed, before he relaxed into the awkward hug and wrapped his arms around Blaytz. The man noted, pleased, that they carried a lot more muscle in them than when Lance had first come to the In-Between. Seriously, that kid had been so skinny.

“And you’re a lot like my father,” the boy whispered, before getting off Blaytz and wiping at his suspiciously wet eyes. “Just—” he handed Blaytz a nicely wrapped package, “—take it, you sappy jerk.”

Blaytz laughed softly, and grabbed the package. He looked for the first crease, and slowly began unwrapping it. Lance lifted an eyebrow, as he watched his mentor unpack the package as if it were the most delicate and precious thing in the world.

“Dude, you know you can just—”

“Ahp-ahp-ahp-ahp-ahp!” Blaytz cut him off, shaking his hand wildly to cut him off. “This is my gift, myway to open it.”

Lance sighed and sat down, settled for the long wait.

And a long wait it was.

Lance was staring off into the distance, bored, twenty-something Doboshes later, when Blaytz made a pleased noise and (FINALLY) picked off the last piece of binding. Lance couldn’t remember a time a wait had seemed so long, except for the time when he’d had to wait to see his newborn siblings.

Like then, it had taken Lance a lot of effort to stay still and not completely impede on the process.

Blaytz tentatively opened the box (“Oh come on!” Lance had shouted, throwing his hands in the air), and nearly burst into tears. Inside the box was a beautifully crafted necklace. It took Blaytz a lot of effort not to submit to the urge to cry as he stared at the charm; crossed silver scimitars, the broadened edges and jeweled tiny hilts matching perfectly with the ones he’d had when he was alive.

“Do you like it?” Lance asked quietly. Although he tried (And failed, but Blaytz wasn’t telling) to not look anxious, he most certainly was. He really had no idea what he supposed to get Blaytz when the dude could literally create anything he could ever want or need with a single thought, probably much easier than Lance himself.

Blaytz fingered the charm, awe visible on his face and tears in his eyes.

“I had forgotten what they looked like,” he whispered thickly, “How did you know?”

Lance laughed awkwardly. “I saw them in Blue’s storage. They had your name carved into the hilts, so it wasn't that hard to guess who they belonged to. I actually put that on the mini ones too—"

Blaytz surged forward and caught Lance in a hug once again, tears gathering in his eyes. Lance hugged him back swiftly, before letting go.

“You know, there’s a letter too.”

“Really?” Blaytz looked into the box, and, alas, there it was. He greedily picked it up, unfolded it, and began to read.

Lance fidgeted as the older read the card. And then re-read it. And then read it again. Lance was nervous at that point. Did he not like it?

Blaytz dropped the letter and caught Lance in a hug for the third time that day, and it wasn’t even the equivalent of noon.

“You're welcome,” Blaytz said, voice thick with unshed tears. “And thank you. I love you so much, little Blue.”

~

Water flowed, free, calm, undisturbed.

Previously, rocks of insecurities pierced the waves' path. They stirred waters, created dips and hollows that made the water gurgle, and stomachs churn.

But waves, belonging to bright and powerful Sea, soothed all that. Burying doubts and insecurities under waves of parental love, Ice's river was calm.

Ice would be okay.

Ice would be okay, even as ones previously thought as gone Come Back, pulling him from his new safe and calm life and back into turmoil. Far away from Sea's extensive reach.

But Ice would be okay.

Why?

Because water is eternal. And eternity is a very long time to heal.

~

Chapter Text

I hate this so much, but I have to put this on hiatus. My phone broke a bit ago and on it were all my notes on this series. I'm really upset about it, because by the time my phone decides to turn on again (if ever) I will probably have lost all motivation to do this. I've been heavily relying on my phone for a lot in this story (I'd write bits and pieces of chapters on it as they came to me in class and had like a billion notes)so there's no way I'll be able to continue without it. I really frickin hate this.