Work Text:
It’s my fault, it’s always my fault. The mission would have gone smoothly if I could have just kept my quiznaking mind focused, but nooo I just had to spend the entire infiltration joking around. I’m such a quiznaking idiot, all I ever do is ruin our missions, destroy our plans, screw everything up. That’s all I am, the goofball screw up that’s unneeded and unwanted. I’m the seventh wheel that deserves to be severed off the bike. Or in this case, the Lion.
I hissed in pain as I pressed my hand against my side, feeling the sticky blood even through my black undersuit. I deserve it. No one even noticed I got grazed by a blaster. I don’t deserve their attention, it’s my fault I got hurt anyway. I need to just suck it up and take the pain like a real Paladin. I pressed harder against my wound, if not to stop the bleeding than to cause myself further injury.
I took my non bloody hand and pressed it against my mouth, barely stifling the sob bubbling up in me. I don’t even remember when I took off my helmet. I quickly turned off my comms, not wanting to risk my team knowing I’m crying like a stupid little baby. I don’t deserve their attention or worry.
Not that they would worry about me…
Blue automatically piloted me into the Castle of Lions hanger, thankfully not needing me to tell her what to do. She doesn’t need me. No one does. I pressed my hand so hard against my mouth I could taste my dirty glove. And it wasn’t at all soothing. Blue landed softly, careful not to scare me. She brought up the feed through her eyes as I sat quivering in the pilot seat, revealing Hunk already out of Yellow Lion.
He approached my lion, “Lance, are you coming out?” Normally I would make a stupid joke about coming out being bisexual but I was too busy crying to even say a word. “Come on, buddy, you can’t stay in there all day.” Yes I can, I can hide in here until I die. It’s not like you need me, just find a new Paladin and everything will be okay again. It’s not like I’ll ever see my familia again either. He let out a sigh when I made no response, not even asking Blue to open up herself to him, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” And then he left. Like everyone does.
I was always meant to be alone.
With him gone, my last chance at combating my isolation, I curled up in my seat much too small for how lanky I am. I did not bother to cover my mouth anymore, with no one to hear me. I sobbed in open mouth wails. I exhaled in high pitched screams, with futile gasps meant for inhales. I shouldn’t even be crying, it’s my fault we got caught by the Galra. I wasn’t stealthy enough, wasn’t quiet enough, never good enough. They shouldn’t have to save me in an easy reconnaissance mission.
I took my hand off my wound, letting my body bleed as much as it wanted to. I don’t deserve to use a cryopod. I stuck the thumb of my not bloody hand into my mouth, but it did nothing to soothe me. And that only made me cry harder.
I rocked back and forth, pretending as if someone actually loved me enough to rock me themselves. No one does. I sucked my thumb harder, hating the way my armored glove tastes but too exhausted to take it off. I opened my mouth to cry out for my mama and papa but I couldn’t form the words, just making that ear splitting screaming noise. Though the volume was hardly above a whisper. No one ever hears me.
Blue turned her front cameras back on, when did they turn off? I didn’t bother looking at them, as if I could see past my blurry tears now anyway. If I keep this up my eyes will swell shut… again. “Hey Lance?” It was Keith. “Can I come in?” No, no, no, he’s already seen me cry once he can’t see me have a full on panic attack. No, Blue don’t let him in, please. I begged internally, knowing she could hear my pleas. I felt her purr more than I heard it in my mind, a gentle assurance before she opened her door to him.
No, Blue no! He can’t see me like this. Trust him, my cub. She used her honey like voice with me, the one she saves for days like this. This is for the best, little blue. “No,” I whimpered, covering my face with my hands as I heard him approach, not caring for the blood still on my one glove now getting on my red face. I’m already the same color as my blood, so what’s it matter?
“Lance,” his voice was far too gentle for the hothead I know. I didn’t mean to whimper. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He quickly came forward, walking around the pilot seat to face me. “Oh my god, you need to get that taken care of,” he told me the second he saw my wound. I was shaking my head even before he finished voicing his question.
No, no, I don’t deserve it. Don’t make me, don’t deserve to be taken care of.
I cried out, “nuh uh,” not even bothering to correct myself from the classic little word. There was a pause, like the gears were turning overtime in his head.
He lowered himself, making himself less overbearing, “are you feeling little?” He said gently, with no malice or condensation in his voice. I shook my head ‘no, no, no,’ but he still said, “okay, that’s okay.” I said no, nuh uh, nada, what don’t you understand? “Why don’t we go clean up that wound?” He hesitated before saying the last word, like he was contemplating if it was the right one to use.
“Nuh uh!” I exclaimed, frustrated with his lack of care for my decision. “No cleanin’!” I dropped my hands from my face, revealing my mess. If I wasn’t having a panic attack I would be careful not to drop so quickly…
He didn’t even hesitate this time after actually seeing me crying. He raised his hands in surrender, “okay, we won’t do it right now if you’re not ready,” he said it like I really have a choice. “How can I help?” You can’t help! No one can help me, I’m too broken to be fixed. I’m too talentless to be useful. I’m too Lance to be anything but worthless. “Hey, did I say something wrong?” His eyes were wide in panic as I let out a particularly disgusting sob. When I didn’t answer he reached forward and pulled me into a hug, despite the awkward angle.
I didn’t mean to lean into the touch.
He held me like that for a moment before saying, “I’m gonna pick you up, alright? We won’t leave the cockpit, I just wanna hold you easier,” I was too busy trying to grasp what he said that I wasn’t prepared for him to actually go through with his plans. I let out a surprised squeak, to which he softly shushed me, when he lifted me from my chair. He held me in his arms like a parent would their baby. It only lasted a few shaky breaths before he sat down with me in his lap, him leaning against the wall.
He cradled me close, ironic I know , while he mumbled assurances to me. I just continued to cry, “go ‘way,” I begged even though the smol part of me never wanted him to let me go. “Baddie, bad, bad,” I wasn’t even sure if I was talking about him or myself.
He took a deep calming breath, “I’m not leaving you like this,” he said each word slowly and carefully, like defusing a bomb. “I’m not mad at you for being little, or for crying, or for being hurt,” he cuddled me closer while subtly trying to pull my white and blue armor off. I didn’t have the energy to stop him.
When my chest plate was off I turned to press my face into his chest, “‘m mad a’ me,” I mumbled into the fabric of his shirt. He was still in his black undersuit, though his actual armor was long gone. He asked me a simple but vital question, ‘why?’ And I let out another pitiful cry, “‘m baddie,” I admitted, “dummy Wance,” I can’t even say my name correctly, “baddie baby,” I blubbered out, “‘m ne’d go ‘way!” I wailed into his chest, trembling more with every word.
He was silent for a tick, though he still ran his hand up and down my back at an even pace. “What do you mean you need to go away?” How can he decipher my baby talk so easily? He moved one hand to run his fingers through my sweaty hair while the other stayed on my back, keeping me pressed against him.
I moved my hand to be able to chew my fingers, when did he take off my gloves? I slurred between hard sucks, “‘m shouwda be’n unawive,” I messed up my ‘l’s’ and ‘w’s’ again. I can’t even say the quiznaking sentence coherently. He asked me to repeat myself, clearly trying so hard to understand but failing miserably. “‘M needa go ‘way ‘way,” I cried desperately.
I felt Blue purr in my head again, trying to comfort me.
“Do you mean die?” He said each word slowly, as if willing it to not be true. I furiously nodded my head, relieved he finally understood. Little me just has no filter. This is only the second time he’s met this version of me and now he knows both my deepest secrets. “God, Lance, no ,” he told me firmly. And the submissive side of me wanted to give into his order. But I can’t, I know I’m right. “Lance Charles McClain, you do not need to die.” When the quiznak did he learn my middle name? “Voltron can’t lose you, hell I can’t lose you,” he sounded so much more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard him. “Just because one mission didn’t go how we planned doesn’t mean you can just ‘go away.’” I didn’t have any more words, for once, so I just clung to him tighter.
He seemed to be done speaking too, because he cuddled me somehow closer, my entire body against his. It couldn’t have even been comfy with me still wearing the bottom half of my armor. But he held me anyway. He gently untangled my hair with his hand, finger combing it out. I sucked my fingies harder, desperate for more soothing. After more than a few ticks of cuddling, he asked if he could remove the rest of my armor. I gave a sleepy nod, no more fight left in me.
He pondered for a second, not knowing how to go about this. I was absolutely no help to him whatsoever, just sitting there limply. Eventually he decided to lay me down, only after a couple whines from me about the embrace ceasing. “I’ll cuddle you more, just lemme get this annoying armor off,” and he quickly fulfilled his promise. Leaving me in just my black undersuit, you could see the blood seeping through more than ever. He sighed, before picking me back up.
I couldn’t help but cling to him.
Instead of hugging me against his chest, he held me in that infant like way. “Lance, we really need to get you cleaned up,” I made a clearly displeased whine, “I know you don’t want to, but I need to make sure you’ll be okay,” he sounded much too tired to be a teenager, “I don’t think it’s bad enough to go to a cryopod, but you at least need to wash and bandage it.” Does that mean he wants me to be big again? I can’t, ‘m not ready!
I sniffled hard, unable to stop the tears from flowing freely down my face. He’s just trying to get rid of me, he’s sick of taking care of me. I’m too much work. I tried to push him away but I was too weak. I’m never strong enough. He furrowed his brow at me, “what’s wrong?” How can he say that when he’s the one trying to make me be big before I’m ready? He held me tighter, not allowing me to push him away as he studied my face. “I’ll help you get cleaned up, okay?” He finally decided on those words to calm me down.
I simply let out a hiccup, mumbling out, “no weave?” It was more of a question than a command.
He actually smiled at me, much more soft than I’ve ever seen it, “I’m not leaving. I told you I won’t leave you like this and I’m not breaking my word,” with that he stood, still keeping me in his arms. Before he could even try to leave the lion, I began wiggling in his arms, “Lance, buddy, what’s wrong?” He asked me, desperately trying not to drop me. I didn’t know the words so I just whined tearfully, shaking my head. “Do you not wanna leave Blue?” I nodded slowly, since that wasn’t really it but that seemed as close as we could get to a conclusion.
I sucked my thumb hard but it still couldn’t ease my anxieties of someone else on the team seeing me like this. Just a crying baby too helpless to take care of himself. He sighed again, “Lance, I need to bandage your wound. Do you have medical supplies in here?” I shrugged, not actually knowing since I never really take care of my injuries. Better not tell Da-Keith that. “Okay then we’re going to my room.” I let out a squeal in defiance. “I don’t understand what’s wrong?” He had to close his eyes to keep himself calm. I bet he was telling himself ‘patience yields focus’ again and again in his head.
I tried to word it, not wanting him to snap at me. “No wan’ see,” I tried, but he still looked clueless. “No wan’!”
His brow was still furrowed as he held me, “you don’t want anyone to see you?” He guessed. I nodded quickly, relieved he understood. I relaxed back into his chest, content now he knows that we must stay inside the lion. “I won’t let anyone catch us. My room is close by, no one will see us.” Wait what? No, no, we can’t leave Blue! I whined again but he ignored me, instead carrying me out of the safety of my ship. I stopped my pleas when we were in the hanger, not wanting to risk anyone hearing me. I pressed my face hard against his chest, so no one could see it’s me. How can they know it’s me if they don’t see my face?
He was quick but careful, making sure not to go down any hallways that we heard voices down. Eventually we made it to his bedroom without any problems. I slumped in relief when we entered his room. He placed me on the bed, gently, telling me to wait there as he went to the bathroom connected to his room. I heard him digging around in there but I paid it no mind, instead focusing on nursing my thumb. He came back soon, carrying what looked to be a first aid kit of some sort. He looked at me for a tick, before asking gently, “can you take off the top of your undersuit?”
I looked down at myself helplessly before meeting his eyes again, a silent question being asked. He seemed to understand, placing the medical kit down on his bed before gently removing the top of my suit. Though I let out a whimper of pain when the fabric rubbed against my fresh injury. He mumbled an apology before getting it completely out of the way. I couldn’t help my curiosity and looked down to see the wound at the side of my tummy, and I immediately started balling.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he pulled me into a gentle hug, “I’ll take care of it,” he assured me. He pulled away from the hug and opened up the box next to me. He pulled out something I didn’t care to make sense of what it was before he started rubbing it on my blaster mark. I let out a scream, scrambling away from him so my back was against the wall as I stayed on the bed. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts but I need to get that blood off. Come here,” he said it gently but firmly. I whimpered, shaking my head. He took a deep breath and got on the bed with me, coming up next to and reaching out to wipe away more blood.
I tried to crawl away again but he grabbed my arm, keeping me still. “No, no, no,” I begged, but he did not even hesitate before wiping away the rest of the blood. I was a crying mess even after he said, “all done,” and I was still sobbing after he finished placing a large bandage over my side. I thought I heard him saying more words but I couldn’t make sense of it, so instead he pulled me into another hug. He cradled me in his arms, holding me against his chest as I wept. “I’m sorry it hurt, it’s over now,” but I didn’t ease up in my wails.
He took another extremely deep breath, calming himself as he rubbed my back soothingly. I was crying too hard to even be able to suck my fingies, which only made me more loud. Eventually he asked, “I don’t have anything for you to suck on, but um… you can chew on my shirt again, if it helps.” I didn’t need to be told twice before I was sucking on the collar of his shirt. Even though it tasted icky, it was definitely better than my fingies. Nibbling his fabric helped quiet me down, and he slowly got less tense the less loud I was.
Eventually I just made the occasional sniffle, my eyes finally dry. I yawned, the part of his shirt I claimed falling out of my mouth. He didn’t say anything but he gently started bouncing me in his lap, soothing me further. I tried to mumble out a “fankies,” before I was too exhausted to, but I could not tell if he heard. I was still holding onto consciousness when I knew for sure I felt his lips press gently against the top of my head.
I cuddled him closer.