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Allura swears in Altean as she pulls her hand away from her side.
Pidge can’t help but wince at the sticky pink mess there, seeping steadily from a half-cauterized blaster shot. It’s gross in a way that messy wounds always are, something that would get covered by a sticky note were it an image in a textbook. But this? It’s real, and it’s right in front of Pidge’s face.
“That doesn’t look good,” Pidge says, more to try and cut through the tense air than to actually provide an observation. Allura takes a moment to shut her eyes and gather herself.
“It doesn’t feel good either,” she manages through gritted teeth. She leans her head back against the metal wall behind her and tries to breathe through the pain. Just by that, Pidge can tell that it’s really, truly a bad situation. Allura is a bit more unshakeable than the rest of them, at least physically. It takes a lot to take her down and even more to keep her there.
Pidge glances up and down the hallway they’re in. It’s empty for now, save for the sparking and downed sentry crumpled against the opposite wall. The stupid hunk of metal is what got them here in the first place. A lucky shot was all it took for Allura to go down, and though Pidge dismantled the thing quickly after that, they’re still stuck in this hall.
“Do you think you can stand?” Pidge asks, because there’s no way they’re gonna be able to finish their mission like this. The priority now is to let out unscathed – or, at least, with no more injuries between them than there already are.
“Stand, yes,” Allura says. “And walk, maybe. Run, escape, fight? Not a chance.” She wipes a hand off on a non-bloodstained part of her suit, swiping pink over the right leg. Briefly, Pidge wonders if Altean blood is all pink or if it matches the color of the person’s markings. But now isn’t the time to ponder the wonders of Altean anatomy.
“Maybe I could carry you?” Pidge wonders aloud, sizing Allura up silently. “I dunno. How heavy are you?” Allura shrugs. Yeah, understandable. Keeping track of their weight and height and such hasn’t exactly been a priority while fighting an ancient intergalactic war.
“Shiro says lighter than Keith, if that counts for anything,” Allura offers. So Alteans are lighter than humans, despite being sturdier. Huh. Pidge chews silently at the tip of a gloved finger for a moment. There’s a beat of silence between them.
Pidge can carry Keith, yes, for short distances. If Allura is a bit lighter, maybe Pidge can manage a bit farther.
"You can do anything for a minute," Shiro often tells them all, trying to push limits just a bit more in training. Pidge resolves to carry Allura for a minute, and then a minute more. Rinse and repeat until they're back to the Green Lion.
"Get on," Pidge says, crouching down in front of Allura.
"O-Oh!" Allura exclaims. "On your back?" Pidge pats a shoulder urgently.
"Yeah, come on. I'll carry you, and you shoot anyone we come across."
"...All right," Allura relents, climbing awkwardly on. Pidge hooks Allura’s legs securely before standing, remembering Shiro’s guidance of "lift with your legs!"
"Okay," Pidge says, voice laced with determination. "Let's do this."
"You can do anything for a minute," the Shiro in Pidge’s head reminds. A minute. Start with a minute.
Pidge sets a timer for sixty seconds.
And then, onward.
The first forty-five seconds go great. The two move (or, more accurately, Pidge moves) through the ship relatively unnoticed. They come across sentries here and there and have mini panic attacks each time, but Allura has quick reflexes even when injured, and she shoots them down before Pidge can even fully comprehend what's going on.
Then, the forty-five second mark hits, and they hear marching around the next corner.
"Shit," Pidge swears.
"Shit," Allura echoes. "You can't fight them like this." Pidge breathes shakily. Fifty-two seconds on the clock.
"I can't."
"You should leave–"
"Hell no."
There is absolutely no way Pidge is about to leave Allura behind, especially not with what happened the last time Allura ended up in the hands of the Empire.
Instead, thinking fast, Pidge settles Allura in a nearby corner. "So you can see anything coming at you," is the reason. "They can't sneak up behind you if you're backed into a wall."
"This is a terrible idea," Allura mutters. Pidge raises an eyebrow.
"You got a better one?" Allura sighs, tipping her head in defeat.
"Regrettably, I do not," she says. Then she looks up at Pidge, serious and worried.
"Please, Pidge. Try and stay safe?" The Green Paladin grins, bayard crackling.
"I'm gonna beat their stupid metal asses," Pidge assures.
And then the minute is up, and sentries are flooding the corridor.
The good thing about robots is that they need time to process, to determine the best course of action. Pidge, who's known they were about to round the corner any second, doesn't need that time.
With a blur of green, a harpoon embeds itself into a sentry's head. Pidge pulls harshly, sending the fritzing bot into a second one right beside it. Before the remaining four can react to the sudden assault, Pidge is darting forward, bayard retracted and ready once more.
Four against one. Not a fair fight by any means, and definitely not an easy one. But Pidge is determined as can be and fiercely protective of the little family they've all constructed.
In short, the sentries don't stand a chance.
Pidge is small enough to be a tough target and takes advantage of it, makes it count. Reflexes sharpened by sheer adrenaline, Pidge dips and dodges and escapes every attack thrown by those stupid bots.
Another one goes down, abdomen cleaved in two by the cord of Pidge’s bayard. Three against one. Pidge darts between one's legs and stabs it from behind, leaving the robotic limbs to twitch and spit sparks on the floor.
The last two are easy work. It's clear that these patrol sentries are designed to work in groups, and once that group has been depleted, they're utterly useless. It suits Pidge just fine. With a kick that even Shiro would have a hard time matching, the final sentry's chest caves in, metal crunching under the heel of Pidge’s foot.
"Let's get out of here before another squad of these fuckers shows up, yeah?" Pidge says, grinning and turning to Allura.
"Let's," the Princess agrees breathlessly. She's taken to pressing a hand to her side again and peels it away gingerly, wincing as the tacky blood sticks to her palm. "I feel a headache coming on."
"Is that…bad?" Pidge ventures. Allura gives a tight smile.
"It's more of a warning sign, really," she tries. "But yes, it would be nice if we could get back to the Castle as quickly as possible."
Pidge takes a slow, measured breath, then crouched in front of Allura once more.
"All right. Up you go."
One more minute. Pidge can do anything for one more minute.
The timer starts once more, and they're off.
They make it into the Green Lion just as the stopwatch hits sixty seconds, falling over each other in a heap. Allura groans from the rough jostling, but remains largely fine. Y'know, if one were to ignore the bleeding burn across her hip.
"I never wanna do that again," Pidge chokes out, breath heaving. Both of them have yet to leave the floor and the positions they landed in. Then, Pidge says to the Lion, "Green, take us home."
The mechanical whirring underneath the floor rattles them both as the Green Lion takes off. But it's okay, because they're finally heading home.
Pidge whacks a hand against the dashboard blindly, hitting the comms by some miracle.
"Mission was a bust. We're comin' back home."
"And please have a pod ready," Allura adds.
"Yeah," Pidge breathes, voice taking on a good-natured joking tone. "A pod and some fucking pillows. I'm never carrying you again. Allura. I'm tired as shit."
Allura laughs despite her pain.
"Maybe once I'm out of the pod, I can carry you."
Pidge smiles.
"You've got a deal, Princess."