Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Getting sick whilst being a paladin of the most powerful force in the universe, slap-bang in the centre of a war raging between every known species, could be a little complicated sometimes. Especially when everyone involved liked to pretend things were fine when they definitely weren’t.

Even more so when the two people in charge of the group were aliens who had a wavering grasp on the paladins' physiology at best. 

Suffice to say there was a lot of trial and error involved before a system was up and running that not only worked in favour of the duty they held in the ongoing war, but also in the interest of their health. It hadn’t been easy; admitting weakness wasn’t exactly something that came naturally to any of the paladins, and understanding the differences between what the human body wanted versus what it needed wasn’t always clear to the Alteans, which meant more than a few times they had missed the balance when it came to treatment. 

Eventually, they got there, after one memorable week when Pidge had been forced into bedrest with a minor head cold, because the Altean’s had believed her to be downplaying her illness, followed a few days later when Keith, dealing with a high fever and chest infection, had collapsed during training when Allura and Coran had tried to learn from their mistakes with Pidge by encouraging him to work through it. 

That week alone had inspired a long conversation about what humans can and can’t power through, and about the importance of being honest and speaking up about how you’re feeling, especially to the members of the group who didn’t share the same biology as you. There was a lot of trust involved: Shiro and Allura had agreed that they would allow everyone to make their own decisions regarding their health. If they assured everyone that they were well enough to carry on like normal, then that’s what they would do, but you had to be honest. 

Alongside that, they had to work to create an environment that didn’t punish illness and injury, that encouraged self-care whilst also emphasising how relentless the war around them was. At the core of this was communication. No, you cannot control getting ill, but in an environment of life and death, with millions of innocent people’s lives on the line, you cannot always afford to have the time that you need to rest and recover. What they can do is be prepared. Communicate. If the team knows that you’re unwell, then you can do what is needed, and what you are able to afford in the moment. (Sometimes that meant sitting out training and observing instead; sometimes it meant a trip to medical; sometimes it meant carrying on as normal, but perhaps asking the others to take it a bit easier on them, cut them some slack and be a little gentler. And sometimes, rarely, it meant taking a day or two in bed, being checked on and comforted by a rotating pattern of friends.)

At any time, with no warning, Voltron could be needed. The galaxies depended on it. It was vital that the team knew when somebody might not be at their best, so that they weren’t being blindsided by it in the middle of battle. Something like that could cost a life. 

Could cost countless lives.

All of that is to say that, when Lance woke up one morning and instantly knew he was ill, his first thought was that he needed to tell someone. His mama would be so proud to know that after a lifetime of trying to hide any illness or injury, stemming from a fear of being an inconvenience. Funny how a space war and a mountain of responsibility on your shoulders can change you. God, he missed his mama. 

The thought alone made his stomach flip, although that could have been the nausea that was already squirming in time with the pounding of his head. He shivered violently beneath the sheets of his bed, despite the ambient air temperature of their rooms always being kept at a steady 72°F. Blearily, he lifted his head to glance at the clock on his bedside table, groaning as he realised breakfast was only a few minutes away. They had training scheduled for just after breakfast, a few team drills and then solo close-range combat. Realistically, Lance knew there was no way he could do that, but maybe he could still participate through watching, giving pointers and observations; he hated the feeling of uselessness that came with being ill. 

Slowly, he pulled himself from his bed, pausing to rest a hand on the wall opposite his bed when he stood, breathing deeply through the dizziness that hit. Stumbling his way through a shower (which did not revive him nearly as much as he had hoped it would), brushing his teeth and changing into an oversized grey hoodie and some light blue joggers, Lance reluctantly left his room and made his way to the dining room.

Walking in, eyes were on him immediately. 

“I’m not feeling so hot today.” Lance admitted, a small smile on his lips under the pressure of six concerned stares, amused at how redundant the confession seemed. 

“Yikes.” Pidge blurted out, staring directly at what Lance was pretty sure was his pale complexion and obvious eyebags. 

“Okay, ouch.” He scowled playfully, flicking her in the middle of the forehead in retaliation. “You know just what a guy wants to hear.”

Pidge cackled, clearly relieved that he was joking around still. It was always a little jarring on the rare occasions one of them fell ill, all of them unused to the easy admittance of it. “Sorry, sorry, just - yeah, you look like you’re going to keel over.” 

She said it like that was supposed to make Lance feel better. It did not.

He was startled out of the glare he was shooting Pidge by a gentle hand pushing the hair off of his forehead, and resting there in its absence. Turning, he found Shiro attached to the hand, having walked around the table to stand beside him. His eyebrows were pinched together, a small frown on his face as he considered Lance.

“Yeah, buddy, I think the problem isn’t that you’re ‘not feeling too hot’” Shiro smiled, though the concern was clear. “I think the problem is you’re feeling way too hot.” Lance’s face split into a grin, but just as he was about to agree with just how hot he was, Shiro moved his hand from against his forehead to against his mouth, his concerned smile turning more into his regular smile. “ Don’t say it.”

“Shall I get the thermometer?” Allura asked, rising from her seat.

Shiro’s hand fell back to his side. “Yeah, his fever is definitely on the higher end, I want to know what exactly we’re dealing with here.” His frown returned as Lance swayed a little, complexion paling slightly more. “Why don’t we get you sitting down?” He offered, voice kind as he held Lance’s wrist and led him to his seat at the table. 

Sinking down into his chair gratefully, Lance folded his arms and plopped his head down onto them, shutting his eyes against the bright, white lights of the ship. His head was turned to the side, facing Keith, so when a quiet voice in front of him said, “Hey.” It was unsurprising that his own blue eyes met Keith’s purple ones. 

If you had told Lance a year ago that he would consider Keith a very close friend, he would have laughed in your face. Now, though, he would reluctantly admit he actually really enjoyed the paladin’s company. Don’t get him wrong, he still loved to argue with the other boy, but it was in a much healthier, more mutually enjoyable way; they knew each other's limits and respected them, and it was more like they were joking around than actually fighting. It was nice.

Blinking Keith’s face into focus, he smiled weakly. “Hey yourself, mullet man.”

Instead of rising to the bait like he would have done a few months ago, Keith’s smile simply turned a little more relaxed. “Want to tell me what’s up with you?”

“Don’t you think being mysterious makes me so much more attractive?” Lance asked, wiggling his eyebrows and then sneezing aggressively, sniffling wetly afterwards.

Keith regarded him blankly, before deadpanning, “Oh yes, so attractive.” Lance snorted, closing his eyes again. “Hey, I’m serious, what are you feeling?” Keith pressed, making Lance pry his eyes open again.

“ Tired. ” Lance huffed, trying to prove a point. The obvious worry on Keith’s face softened him though, and Lance sighed. “I’m nauseous, and my head hurts. And I’m a bit dizzy.” He conceded. “Don’t know if I can train today.” He added on, eyes already shut again.

“Yeah, I think that’s probably the right call.” Shiro joined in, though Lance didn't open his eyes this time. “Okay bud, Allura’s gotten me the thermometer so I’m going to take your temperature, okay?” 

Lance just hummed in response, feeling the cool metal being pressed into his ear. A few seconds passed, and then a beep followed. 

“102.1.” Shiro said, and Lance could hear the frown in his voice. “I think we should probably get you back to bed.”

Whilst Lance definitely liked the idea of being back in bed, his energy was quickly draining, and the five minute walk through the castle’s cold corridors was seeming less and less appealing as time went on. Besides, he sort of wanted to be around his friends right now. If he couldn’t have his earth family here, at least he could have his space family. 

Once again, he peeled his eyes open, blinking a few times before finding Shiro. “Can’t I just stay here?” He asked, flushing slightly at how whiny he sounded, even to himself. 

“Wouldn’t you be a bit comfier in your bed?” Hunk piped up from where he sat opposite Lance, next to Pidge. Turning to face him made the dizziness hit again, and once it cleared, he realised Hunk could read him like an open book. Curse his best friend for knowing exactly what he was thinking. Hunk’s face immediately dimmed into what Lance was strongly refusing to accept was pity, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Besides, we’ve all got to get to training in a few doboshes, so you’d be here on your own anyway.” He told him, gently. 

Embarrassingly, Lance felt his throat tighten at the thought. He was eighteen years old, and yet he couldn’t handle the thought of spending a few hours alone in his room because, what? His stomach hurt? ( Deep down, he knew, it was because he was so far from home. He was always so close to his family, and until the Garrison he rarely spent a day without them. The Garrison had been hard enough, when they were all only a phone call away, and now he was lightyears away in space, with no way of telling them where he was and that he was okay. It was his first time being sick since they had left earth, and he was embarrassed to say how badly he wanted his mom there to get him through it. )

Forcing himself to push all of that down, he nodded and smiled reassuringly at Hunk. “Right, yeah. Of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll see you guys after training?” He asked, glancing around as he heaved himself to his feet. Behind him, Shiro put a careful hand on his shoulder, the only thing keeping him upright. 

“I’ll walk you to your room, Lance. Keith, can you meet me there with some water pouches? Everyone else, we’ll see you down on the training deck in 10 doboshes, okay? I think we’ll skip the group training for today and save it for when Lance can join us, so you’ll get an extra hour of free time today.” 

Upon everyone’s agreement, Lance felt Shiro put a strong, comforting arm around his shoulders and lead him out into the hallway.

Shiro frowned as Lance began leaning more and more of his weight against Shiro, as they made it about halfway to his room. It’s not that Lance was too heavy, but instead how willing he was to take the support Shiro was giving him, a sign of how much he needed it. As they rounded the final corner to the wing of the castle with their bedrooms in it, Lance’s head came to rest on Shiro’s shoulder and, glancing down, his eyes were closed, face pale. From this position Shiro could feel the heat radiating off of the boy, his forehead pressed into his collarbone through the thin material of his t-shirt. 

Reaching Lance’s door, Shiro punched in the code and led him in. He didn’t even appear to notice they had made it.

“Lance, hey,” Shiro rubbed his back gently, rousing him. “You ready to get to bed?”

Peeling his eyes open with, what looked like, great effort, Lance barely hid his surprise upon realising they were in his room. “Mm, yeah.” He mumbled, stumbling over to the bed and collapsing into it. 

Amused, Shiro sat down on the edge of the bed beside Lance. “Okay, I just want to get one more reading of that fever, and then I’ll let you get some sleep, yeah?” 

The boy barely seemed aware of much anymore, probably already halfway asleep, so he pulled the thermometer from his pocket and pushed the end into his ear. Several ticks passed before it beeped, and Shiro sighed as the same reading as before blinked up at him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, really, only a few doboshes had passed since he last checked, but he’d still been hopeful it would have dropped a bit. 

Another few doboshes passed in silence, and Shiro had just begun to relax as Lance rested, when the boy suddenly bolted upright, scrambling out of bed and, before Shiro could really process what was happening, stumbled into the bathroom attached to his room. 

Following quickly after, Shiro found Lance kneeling over the bowl of the toilet, clearly waiting for the inevitable, but nothing happened. Sitting down next to the boy, he hummed in sympathy, reaching up to rub circles on his back as Lance sat there, eyes squeezed shut, taking deep, shaky breaths. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured, trying to help the teen relax. “You’re okay, just let it come naturally. I’m right here.”

Lance was shaking under his hand, a small groan slipping out as he ducked his head briefly. Shiro held his breath but nothing happened, and then Lance was returning to his earlier position. One shaky arm came up to wrap around his own stomach, and it was obvious he was uncomfortable.

“You okay, buddy?” He asked, which, honestly, was a stupid question. His own stomach clenched when Lance shook his head, a single tear dripping down his cheek.

“Nauseous.” He choked out, eyes squeezing tighter shut. “ Really.”

“Oh, Lance .” He whispered, pulling him closer and wrapping his arm around him, careful not to block his path to the toilet. He hated not being able to do anything. 

They sat like that for a moment, Lance shaking in his hold, breaths hitching, before he suddenly sprang away from him, lurching over the toilet in time to heave up a mouthful of liquid. Scooting back over, Shiro went back to rubbing his back, trying to help him through it. Now that it had started, it seemed never-ending, leaving Lance to choke out a sob between each relentless heave. 

Somewhere, about a minute in, Shiro heard Lance’s bedroom door swish open, and Keith walk in with the promised water pouches. Immediately, the other boy was rushing into the bathroom, eyes wide taking in the scene. 

“Lance!” He shouted, crashing to his knees beside Shiro. 

“Keith?” Lance mumbled, lifting his head long enough to make eye contact before hunching over again, stomach spasming. 

“Jesus.” Keith whispered, looking at Shiro in a mix of horror and worry. Despite everything, Shiro couldn’t help a small smile at just how freaked out Keith looked. He forgot how little exposure he would have had to anyone other than himself getting ill.

Placing his free hand on Keith’s shoulder, he reassured, “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay once he’s through it. He’s just pretty nauseous. It sucks, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Eventually, Lance manages to choke in a full breath and, after waiting a beat to make sure it was over, collapses backwards into Shiro’s waiting arms, clearly exhausted. Wordlessly, Keith reached over to flush the toilet, passing Shiro a wet cloth. Shiro delicately wiped the cloth over Lance’s face where it rested against his chest, eyes screwed shut and mouth pressed into a small frown as his frame was wracked with shivers. 

Carefully, so as not to disturb the other two paladins, Keith stood and walked back into the bedroom to find the water pouches he’d originally come in to give them. Back in the bathroom, Shiro gently nudged Lance’s shoulder, watching as his eyes slowly blinked open. “Hey, how are you feeling now? Any better now that that’s over with?”

Lance seemed to debate this, an odd look passing over him as he shuffled slightly in Shiro’s hold, almost subconsciously trying to get more comfortable. “Uh, yeah, I- I guess.” He offered, after a pause. It was unconvincing, not helped by the fact that he’d snaked his arm back around his stomach again, or the way his eyebrows pinched together, or the shaking of his shoulders despite the heat rolling off of him. “You guys should get to training, right?” Lance asked, though he made no move to get up from where he rested against Shiro.

Keith returned then, water in hand, to crouch down in front of Lance and offer it to him. Upon seeing how shaky Lance’s hands were as he reached for it, he just rolled his eyes and batted the paladin’s hand back down, holding it to his mouth for him instead. “Slow sips.” He murmured, secretly pleased when Lance actually followed the direction. Then, Keith turned to Shiro. “We’re not actually going to training, right? I mean - look at him.”

“I’m right here.” Lance grumbled.

“Keep drinking.” Keith ordered, not even sparing a glance.

Shiro felt Lance shift, head angling away from the pouch, despite there still being well over half of it left. “Can’t.” He said simply, and Shiro’s heart tugged at how strained it sounded. He wished there was something he could do to make him more comfortable.

“Lance, that’s not enough.” Keith frowned, frustration creeping into his voice. Shiro knew this would be hard for Keith; sick people were not the most co-operative, and sometimes you can’t fix an illness in one quick solution - two things that would surely grate on Keith’s, admittedly short-tempered, nerves. While this frustration came from a place of caring - he wanted to help them feel better, sooner, and the delay was frustrating and out of his control - Shiro knew that it would rile Lance up, which would escalate the situation and make everything worse. He needed to diffuse the situation. 

Lance opened his mouth, undoubtedly to fire back with some comment that would annoy Keith and, ultimately, take the attention away from the fact that, yeah, Lance had definitely thrown up more water than he had consumed which was a worry. But Shiro has learnt, after many, many experiences with Keith when he was younger, that sometimes in life you need to pick your battles and take victories when you can. 

So, before Lance could start an argument, Shiro cut in. 

“Don’t worry, Lance. We’ll try again in a bit, okay?”

Keith blinked in surprise. “But, Shiro -”

“I know,” He interrupted, placatingly. “But he’s sick , Keith. There’s no point in forcing him to drink if it’ll only make him throw up what he has managed to get down. A little is better than none.” 

“I’m right here. ” Lance repeated, disgruntled but with no heat behind his words. 

Amused, Shiro rubbed his hand over Lance’s shoulder. “Sorry, bud.” Then, turning his attention back to Keith he said, “But I think you’re right, maybe we’ll skip out on structured training today, and we’ll just make sure everyone logs at least half an hour of extra independent training this week at some point. Lance, do you think you’re ready to get to bed?”

Lance nodded, absently, and Shiro had to wonder whether he actually took in anything he’d just said, but honestly, it was good enough. He and Keith both helped Lance stand, pausing as he got his bearings. Once he was upright, Lance seemed to come back to himself a bit more, flushing in embarrassment and shaking off the hands on his shoulders, laughing awkwardly. Despite this, Keith and Shiro both kept close by on the short walk to his bed, surprised by Lance’s lack of argument. Shiro tried not to let this worry him.

Once again, Shiro watched as Lance collapsed into his bed, eyes closing immediately as he pulled his comforter tight around his shoulders. 

“Okay, Keith,” Shiro began, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, “You stay here and keep an eye on him, I’m going to go talk to the others about training.” He could see Keith’s eyes widen at the thought of being alone with a sick Lance, so he barreled ahead before the protests could start, turning them to face away from the bed and lowering his voice so Lance couldn’t hear. “It’ll just be for a few minutes, and he’ll probably just sleep. You know where I’ll be if anything does happen. I don’t like the idea of leaving him alone like this, especially with a fever like that and no human medication.”

Keith sighed but nodded, taking the thermometer when it was offered to him. “Alright, but you have to come straight back, okay? And if he pukes again I’m leaving.” He scowled, nose wrinkling in disgust. Shiro just laughed, knowing that when it came down to it, if he needed to, Keith would step up and deal with it. 

Maybe he should grab the small bin from the corner of the room, just in case.

Keith’s scowl deepened as he took to bin from him, glaring, but as he watched Keith turn towards the bed, gently shake Lance’s shoulder and whisper that the bin was beside him on the floor if he needed it, voice soft in a way it rarely was, it made warmth spread quickly through Shiro’s chest. Moments like that made him proud of how far Keith had come.

Giving Keith one last reassuring nod, Shiro turned and walked silently out of the room.

Keith watched Shiro leave, trying hard not to let the ensuing silence feel awkward. Realistically, looking at Lance, he doubted that the other boy would acknowledge the silence as anything considering that he was about two minutes away from unconsciousness, but Keith had never really been a good judge of how anyone else was reading a situation, so he couldn’t be sure. 

Was he supposed to talk to him? Was it weird to just sit and stare? Should he try and find something to do, or did Shiro want him to actually spend every second that he wasn’t there literally watching the blue paladin? Surely it would be alright if he left for, like, 30 ticks just to go and fetch the book he’d bought from the Earth shop last time they were at the space mall. But what if something did happen? Shiro would be so mad, he’d trusted Keith with this. 

Another 2 minutes passed, and the silence was becoming suffocating. He needed something to occupy him, or else he was going to lose it.

Screw it, he thought, standing abruptly. “I’ll be right back, Lance. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

The other boy didn’t react in any way, his eyes remaining closed and his breathing even. Keith turned quickly and rushed out of the room, sprinting down the hall to his own bedroom, punching in the door code as fast as he could and barrelling in. Locating the book took too long, but he scrambled over to it, snatching it up and turning to leave. Pictures of Lance flooded his mind; unconscious on the floor where he’d tried to get up without Keith there and passed out; laying in bed, writhing in pain as his fever spiked, no one around to help; back in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet and crying, alone. 

His feet couldn’t carry him back to Lance’s room fast enough, the door taking too long to open and when it finally did, Lance -

- hadn’t moved an inch. Keith collapsed down in the chair near the bed, watching as the other boy’s chest rose and fell steadily, eyes closed and face peaceful. Just to be sure, Keith pulled out the thermometer Shiro had given him and walked over to Lance’s bedside. 

He had never used an in-ear thermometer before, but it had looked simple enough when Shiro did it earlier. Slowly, he pushed the end into Lance’s ear, wincing when he startled, eyes blinking open in surprise at the cold metal. 

“Sorry,” Keith mumbled, shooting him a small smile, “Just checking your temperature. You can go back to sleep.” His smile faded slightly when Lance’s eyes, which had never quite found his own, slipped back shut without complaint. It made him uneasy.

The thermometer beeped, and Keith frowned down at the blinking 102.6. What had Shiro said it was before? 102.1? Keith wasn’t entirely sure how bad of a fever it was, or how significant 0.5° was, but Shiro had seemed worried before. And, besides, Keith did know that a temperature getting higher was not good. 

Before he could dwell on it anymore, the gentle hiss of the door opening sounded behind him, and Shiro walked back in. He looked questioningly at the thermometer and Keith handed it over to him gladly, happy to let someone else take the lead on this one.

Shiro worried at his bottom lip briefly, clearly unimpressed by the increase, before sighing, running a hand through his hair and setting the thermometer down on the side, turning back to Keith. 

“Everything went smoothly while I was gone?” He asked.

Trying to look as unbothered as possible, Keith replied, “What, you think I can’t sit in a room with a sleeping person for five minutes without burning the place down?”

“With you? Anything’s possible.”

Keith scowled and swatted at Shiro’s arm, but he felt a bit lighter. Beside him, Shiro cackled, though he muffled his laughs when Lance shifted slightly.

“Honestly,” Shiro continued, after a moment, “I think now that he’s sleeping we’re probably through the worst of it. As long as he can get some good rest in, he’ll be good as new in a couple of days.”

There, Keith thought, relieved, Shiro’s not worried. It’ll be fine. A few days rest, and then Lance will be annoying you again like usual. 

Of course, that’s the exact moment the alarms started blaring through the castle. Allura’s voice, ringing out:

“Paladins! Report to the main deck immediately, we need Voltron!" 

Chapter Text

“Paladins! Report to the main deck immediately, we need Voltron!”

Allura’s voice startled Shiro, along with the alarm. For a moment, he was thrown into pure instinct, months of drills sending his brain into autopilot as he turned to run for his armour, before it all caught back up to him and he remembered their predicament. Keith seemed to experience a similar feeling, hand reaching for the dagger strapped to his belt and turning slightly on his heel towards the door before catching himself. 

Behind them, they hear a shuffling noise, and then Lance is up, blinking wildly as he gets his bearings. 

“Lance -” Shiro starts, but is cut off by the boy pushing past him, making a grab for his armour which sat at the side of his room. He is bewildered for a moment, and this time it’s Keith who manages to find his voice.

“Lance, what are you doing? You need to get back in bed, we’ll handle this!”

“What? Keith, you heard the princess, they need Voltron. Last I checked, that took all five of us!”

Keith opened his mouth, no doubt to argue further, but Lance cut him off. “Look, Keith, it’s not like I’m looking forward to this, but this isn’t some game. This could be lives at stake. We were all there for that meeting, we all know the mission comes first. If I can pilot the Lion, then I have an obligation to do so. We all agreed to it. Maybe I’m not feeling great but- but this is bigger than that, especially if they need Voltron. We followed protocol and we did what we could, but this is why the protocol is there. So that everyone is prepared if and when we need to fight, everyone knows things might not go smoothly, and the psychic link might feel… iffy, but we have to try anyway!” Lance insisted, pulling on his armour and readying his bayard.

Shiro felt Keith’s eyes burning into him, begging him to argue, but he knew Lance was right. That was exactly what they’d agreed, and if Lance was saying he could fight… Well, then, they needed to do whatever they could. This was war, and war did not care how they felt.

“...Keith, let's go suit up. Lance, we’ll meet you down with the others.” He said, eventually, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder and squeezing reassuringly.

“What? Shiro, do you not remember ten minutes ago, when he literally could not stop puking long enough to breathe? He can’t fight like this, it’ll make him worse! You said he needed rest, not a battle!”

“Keith, I know, and I’m not happy about it either, but, this is a call for Voltron, and we made a commitment when we agreed to be a part of this team. If anyone needs Voltron to protect them, we need to be there.”

“I’ll be okay, Keith. Now come on, we don’t have time.” Lance urged them from his room, shooing them to go get their armour. 

Neither of them missed the paleness of his skin, or the way his hands shook.

No longer than one and a half doboshes later saw all five lions flying from the castle, straight into a hoard of Galra fighter ships, one huge ship, different from anything they had seen before, as well as several of their own cargo ships transporting essential food, water and medical supplies to recently liberated planets. 

And - 

Oh god. Shiro’s eyes widened, his stomach dropping. That was one of their ships helping to get aliens from conquered planets to safer reaches of the universe. Thousands of innocent lives, many of them children, who had already faced so much. They could not let the Galra touch that ship.

If the gasps and shouts echoing through his comm were any indication, everyone else had just noticed that ship as well. 

“Okay team, listen up. Priority number one is protecting that ship. We need to find a way to take out that ion cannon, without making the cargo ships vulnerable.”

“What is that thing?” Pidge yelled, no doubt staring at the biggest of the Galra ships. 

Shiro had to agree with the sentiment, the thing was…horrifying. It looked almost like an octopus or a spider, with one central component no doubt housing the controls, and several long arm-like structures stretching out in a circle around it, each equipped with some kind of laser gun, or cannon at the end.

Before anyone could answer her, the thing spotted them, and suddenly all six of the arms were hurling lasers at their lions, causing them to scatter, shooting off in different directions. Immediately, Hunk went for the refugee ship, putting himself between it and the machine. While his lion had the body armour and build best suited for protecting it, Shiro couldn’t help but worry he would only draw attention to it.

Hunk himself seemed to notice, as he quickly got on comms to shout, “Keith, Lance, Shiro, try and distract that thing! I’ll take out as many of the fighters as I can, but I’m going to stay with the ship just in case. Allura, Coran, can you contact the cargo ships and tell them to get behind me, if they can? Pidge, you activate Green’s cloaking mechanism and try to get a closer look at that thing. We need a weakness!”

Despite the situation, Shiro felt a swell of pride. The Hunk he had met all those months ago would have shrunk under the pressure of calling orders in the middle of battle, but now he was really shining. “Good idea, Hunk, great thinking!” He called, making sure Hunk knew how proud he was. 

Everyone else made sounds of agreement, and set out on their various tasks. Shiro, whilst dodging and weaving to keep the attention of the beast, made sure to take out as many fighter ships as he could whilst he was going, and he could see Keith and Lance doing the same. He hadn’t seen Pidge for a while but he assumed that was a good thing, and she would occasionally call out warnings to them about oncoming attacks, so he wasn’t too worried. 

What was catching his attention was Lance’s piloting. That’s not to say it was bad - Lance was avoiding hits and taking out fighters very effectively, but it wasn’t right. Every pilot had a signature style, and Lance? He was all bows and whistles, intricate manoeuvres and showboating at every opportunity. Even when he had no reason to think anyone was watching, there was a certain flair as to how he flew, almost like he was dancing through the air. Now though, he only made essential manoeuvres, no daring tricks or risky moves. It was unsettling.

“Lance, how are you doing?” He called a while into the fight.

“All good, Shiro.” He replied, though his voice was noticeably tight.

Hunk picked up on that instantly, worry for his best friend taking priority. “Lance, buddy, are you feeling okay?” 

“I can do this.” He insisted, voice no less tight. It was obvious how he dodged the question. Somehow, it made it even less believable that he could, in fact, do this. 

Before they could continue that line of thought, Pidge’s voice, excited and victorious, rang out; “Guys, I’ve got it! Its weak point is the underbelly! It's a blind spot where the arms can’t bend underneath itself to protect it, and there's a gap in the armour plating, so we need to form Voltron and take the shot there!”

“Excellent, Pidge!” Allura exclaimed, her smile evident in her voice. Another surge of pride for his team hit Shiro squarely in the chest.

“Okay, team, you heard Pidge! We need to form Voltron! Be prepared for a bit of pushback, we all remember how it was last time we formed Voltron when someone wasn’t 100%, but at least this time we’re prepared for it.” Shiro said, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice.

(It had been about 4 months prior, when an attack was called in the middle of the night. Shiro had woken up feeling terrible, but he’d had no time to address it, rushing straight to his lion and then into the fight. At the time, he thought he’d done the right thing in powering through and focusing on the battle, but when they’d formed Voltron the bond had been weak and wavering, and some of the dizziness and brain-fog had bled through into the others, leaving them sloppy and distracted. They’d won the fight, but it had gotten close a few times, movements slower and reaction times impacted. The bond had even started to slip a few times as they struggled to keep it together, the intensity of the symptoms making it through the bond only growing stronger the longer that they maintained it. Shiro still felt guilty, and the memory of it was what helped to enforce the honesty among the paladins now. They knew now that it wasn’t just their own health they were risking by hiding an illness or injury, but the whole team’s, not to mention anyone they were protecting.)

“Okay, Hunk - Allura and I will move to cover the ship with the castle so that you can join Voltron, but I don’t know how many hits our particle barrier can take, so try to get it done quickly!” Coran ordered.

The team all yelled out various forms of agreement, and Shiro watched intently as the castle and Hunk made the swap, smiling as Pidge and Green materialised next to him. Once Hunk had made it close enough towards them, Lance and Keith also gravitating closer, he knew it was time.

The rush of strength and adrenaline from forming Voltron was quickly pushed aside as a wall of dizziness slammed into him, cold sweat breaking out along his brow and exhausting seeping into his bones. Jesus, he thought, tightening his grip on the controls, how is he even conscious right now? Because, if this was the same as what had happened last time, then what they were feeling now was a fraction of what Lance was actually feeling. They needed this over with, and quick. 

Everyone else seemed to agree with the sentiment, if Hunk’s loud yelp, and Pidge’s groaning over the comms were anything to go by.

“Shit, Lance-” Keith started, but was swiftly cut off.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry, can we just- get this over with?”

Shiro took a moment to collect himself, reminding himself they were literally in a life or death situation. Big picture, Shiro. If Lance can see that, so can you.

“Okay, let's do this. We need to figure out a way to get underneath that thing without it noticing…. Coran, do you think you and Allura could draw its attention by firing at it? I know you aren’t sure how many hits you can take, but we just need it distracted long enough to get into position.”

“Copy that, Shiro!” Allura replied, and only a few ticks later an energy beam shot out across the space, slamming into the ship. Immediately, all arms twisted to face the castle, charging up, and Lance and Hunk wordlessly powered the leg thrusters, whilst Shiro steered them down and under. Through the comms, they could faintly hear alarms blaring the castle, Allura and Coran shouting orders to each other in words that they didn’t quite understand, but they all knew they needed to do this and they needed to do it now.

“Hunk, shoulder cannon!”

The clanking sound of the cannon forming filled Shiro’s ears, when Voltron suddenly lurched to the side, before quickly righting himself. Another wave of intense dizziness rushed through them all.

“Sorry! Sorry! I- I don’t know how much longer I can do this!” Lance called, voice wavering.

Surprisingly, it was Pidge who answered. “Lance, you’ve got this! It’s almost over, we’re right here with you. Just hold on long enough for us to take this shot, okay? You can do this!”

Lance didn’t reply, but their hovering stabilised and Shiro, along with Pidge and Keith, began to take aim. The vague feeling of sickness began to grow stronger, becoming more and more difficult to ignore, and Shiro’s own vision was beginning to blur and waver. The bond wouldn’t hold much longer, and neither would the castle's defences. He suddenly found himself wishing Lance was up here with him, the pressure of the shot making his palms sweat. Now, Shiro was a good shot - he knew that - but this was a big deal and there were a lot of lives on the line here, and Lance was their long-range fighter; it was what he trained for and he was good . He’d seen Lance on the training deck, he could make this shot one hundred times with his eyes closed.

Still, Lance wasn’t the one taking the shot, Shiro was. He can do this, he’d made harder shots in his life. Deep breath…aim…and…

“Shiro!” Hunk yelled, a desperate edge to his voice, their bond weakening dangerously. 

The particle barrier around the castle flickered once, twice, and then sputtered out.

He took the shot. 

Abruptly, Lance’s presence in his brain disappeared, and for a split second it was as if they had been punched in the stomach, the air rushing out of them. It couldn’t have lasted longer than a few ticks, but the sudden removal of Lance’s company - and along with it, the shared symptoms - created a horrible juxtaposition of both comfort and discomfort.

They didn’t have long to consider the feeling before they were being violently wrenched apart, Voltron disbanding against their control with the disappearance of one of the paladins from the bond, and then the lions were tumbling away from each other. 

The shot connected.

The beast exploded.

And the lions were sent flying through space, the shockwave pushing them further and further, electronics shorting out and the lions and comms going dead. 

Shiro desperately held on, trying to keep an eye on the others, both relieved and terrified to see them plunging in the same direction as him. It lasted forever and no time at all - the feeling of having no control, before the Black lion was slamming down onto solid ground, rolling and crashing along the surface of what must have been a nearby planet. Not for the first time, Shiro was grateful for the lions’ ability to absorb the brunt of impacts, and for the seatbelts on the pilot chairs. Still he was shaken, and left panting and disoriented when he finally came to a stop.

Reaching up to his helmet, he tried rebooting the comms but to no avail. He needed a visual on the other lions, to make sure everyone was okay.

With his lion having temporarily powered down, he had to climb out of a hatch in the roof rather than being allowed down through the mouth like usual, but this vantage point gave him a good view.

Around him, the other lions were scattered nearby, clearly having gotten a similar treatment, half-buried in the ice-snow terrain. He can see Keith already standing atop Red, whilst Hunk is in the process of clambering up and out of the Yellow lion. After catching their attention and becoming somewhat satisfied that they were okay, he turned his attention to the Blue and Green lions. Lance was nowhere to be seen and, while that wasn’t a surprise, it certainly didn’t make him feel any better. What was a surprise was that Pidge didn’t seem to be climbing out of the Green lion. Had she gotten injured in the blast, or in the fall, or maybe the impact? Comms were off, so there was no way of asking, but before Shiro could even think about climbing down and running to the Green lion, it moved.

Her head swivelled upwards, turning to face towards them from where it had been resting on the ground, the light in her yellow eyes was faint but there. The relief was palpable, and a renewed sense of hope filled them. If Green was online, maybe they could use it to contact the castle, or even to fly them back up to it and then return for the other lions. Climbing down, Shiro converged with Keith and Hunk in the centre of where the lions had fallen. 

“Are you two okay? That was a pretty nasty fall.” He asked, jogging the last few metres to them.

“I’m okay, but Yellows out for the count.” Hunk replied, and Keith made a noise of agreement. 

Just then, Shiro’s helmet cracked and then Pidge’s voice carried through.

“Is everyone okay? I’ve the comms up again but only on a local frequency, we can't reach the castle from here.”

“The three of us are alright but there’s no sign of Lance, we need to get into the Blue lion and check he’s okay. All of our Lions are down, how’s Green doing?”

Pidge cursed under her breath softly before continuing. “Green’s okay - better than the other’s anyway - but she’s too weak to fly. She’ll need some time, maybe a varga or two, and then we should be able to get out of here.”

“Okay, copy that Pidge. Keith, Hunk, go and join Pidge in the Green lion, her heating will still be online, and the last thing we need is another member down from hypothermia,” Shiro ordered, watching a warning flash up on his helmet display for the cold temperature of the planet. “I’m going to get Lance, and then we’ll join you.”

Both Hunk and Keith immediately began to protest, obviously wanting to check on Lance themselves, but Shiro held up a hand, cutting them off. “Please, Hunk, we need you and Pidge to try to get us back in contact with the Castle, and, Keith, we have no idea if this planet is hostile, I’d rather you all stay together.”

Though clearly unhappy, they agreed, and Green lowered her head to allow Keith and Hunk to climb in, and Shiro began to make his way over to Blue. She, like all of the other lions (minus Green), was completely offline, so Shiro had to climb up the side and through the hatch above the cockpit, the same one he and the others had climbed out of on their own lions. 

Dropping down inside, he squinted in the dark shadows of a powered-down cockpit. Immediately, his eyes found Lance, slumped over in his pilot's chair, unconscious. Had he passed out before the hit, or was this a result of injury? He had a feeling Lance was already unconscious before they fell, likely the cause for their abrupt loss of connection through the bond and ultimately what caused Voltron to disband. He couldn’t discount an injury, though, just in case. Shiro grimaced as he noticed Lance had gotten sick on the floor at some point, and he vaguely wondered at what point during the battle had he found the time. Guilt gnawed at him, knowing he’d allowed Lance to be in a position where he’d been fighting so unwell, but he also knew it was necessary. There’s no way they would have won that fight without Voltron.

“Lance, buddy?” He asked softly, moving to crouch in front of him. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, he knocked softly on the armour. The boy shifted, groaned quietly, but didn’t wake up.

Sighing, Shiro unclipped Lance’s seatbelt and carefully manoeuvred his arms through the loops, then scooped him upwards. Now he needed to figure out how he could get both him and Lance out to the Green lion. He wasn’t entirely convinced he could climb onto Blue’s roof and then down the side of her like he had done with the Black lion, at least, not with an armful of Lance. Of course, he could ask Keith or Hunk for help, but he’d just sent both of them to Green and he didn’t want to force them back out into the cold if he could help it. 

Before he could reach a conclusion, the floor under him began to rumble and shift, forcing Shiro to stagger backwards to compensate for the change in balance. Glancing around in confusion, he saw Blue’s lights flicker on for only the barest of seconds, and then her head was lowering to the ground outside, jaw hinging open enough for them to leave, and then she was back offline. Shiro could have sworn, though, that he had felt a comforting presence in his mind for the moments she was awake, a warm blanket of reassurance, simmering under the surface with worry.

“Thank you.” He murmured, unsure if she could hear, before making his way back outside.

Thankfully, Green saw him coming and let him in through her mouth as well. Where there had been chattering before, Green’s cockpit went silent when Shiro walked in with Lance, all eyes immediately drawn to how limp he was in Shiro’s arms.

“Lance..?” Pidge said, unsure and hesitant. 

Hunk approached, arms full of blankets from Green’s emergency kit, laying them down on the metal floor to create a softer surface, and Shiro smiled at him gratefully, settling Lance down on them. “He’s unconscious, I couldn’t wake him up. Does anyone know if he was awake during the fall? We need to know if a head injury is on the table.”

Various noises of unsurety sounded from the group

Casting a look around the room, Shiro realised they all had their helmets off. Seeing his surprise, Keith spoke up. “Green has the same air filtration system as our helmets, so she can keep the air in here breathable so long as we keep ourselves sealed in.”

Nodding, Shiro reached up and pulled his helmet off, watching as Hunk did the same for Lance. The boy was just as pale as before the mission, if not even more so now. Moving slowly, Hunk carefully checked him, running a hand over his head and through his hair. “I can’t see any signs of a head injury…I think he probably passed out before, and that’s why we lost Voltron.” 

“That’s what I thought, but I didn’t want to count it out.”

Hunk’s hand paused over Lance’s forehead, frowning. Joining him sitting beside Lance, Shiro checked the fever himself. He couldn’t help but gasp, he was boiling. 

“ Shit.” He hissed, head swivelling as he searched for something he could use to cool him. He could take him back outside, but his suit sensors were detecting it was 0°F out there, and he didn’t want to shock Lance’s system; that would just cause more problems than good. “Okay, guys, any ideas? We need something to cool him down a bit, but not so cold it’ll make it worse.”

Barely a beat of silence passed before Pidge was shooting to her feet, eyes shining. “His suit! We have temperature control units, they can send hot or cold air through the inner lining, but it has to be manually started…” She snatched Lance’s discarded helmet from off the floor, placing it on her own head and connecting it to her suit. Flipping open a control panel on the arm of her suit, she frantically tapped away at something and paused, waiting a second before grinning in triumph. “Okay, now if i just -” she slipped the helmet off and then cupped the back of Lance’s head, lifting it off of the floor and sliding it over until it clicked into place. “There!” She sat back on her heels, pleased, but not finished. “Keith, can you pass me my laptop?” Dutifully, he grabbed it off of the desk and then walked over, sitting down between Pidge and Shiro, casting an awkward but concerned look at Lance, who lay in front of him. 

For a few ticks, only the clicking sound of Pidge’s laptop keys filled the air, until a soft ding sounded and Shiro startled as the left arm of his armour buzzed. Bringing it up, he saw new data appearing - Lance’s vitals. 

“Alright, that should do it.” Pidge nodded, satisfied. “That’s a live feed, so it’ll update and we can see if the temperature control is working.”

“Pidge, great work!” Shiro said, ruffling her hair. She laughed, adjusting her glasses where they’d been sent askew by the movement. 

Beside him, Keith was staring intently at the information, eyebrows furrowed. “103.6°F? Shiro, you were worried when it was at 102, is this serious?” Hunk was also looking at Shiro, eyes wide.

He could tell Keith was antsy, and Shiro knew he needed to calm everyone down now before they worked themselves up, but he knew right now things weren’t exactly ideal. They might not have a lot of experience looking after another sick person, but they weren’t stupid. “It’s…not good, but he’ll be okay, especially if we can get it down a bit. It’s definitely a high temperature, but it isn’t dangerous, just a high version of a normal fever. As long as we keep an eye on it, everything should be good. Hunk, Pidge, any updates on getting in contact with the castle?”

“We’ve managed to get our communications back online, but Green doesn’t have enough energy yet to broadcast anything. We estimate it’ll be between half to a full varga before we can.”

“Okay, good work, guys. Keith, Hunk, make sure you’re keeping your connections to your lions open, we don’t want to miss it if they wake up. The sooner we can get back to the castle, the better.”

Both boys nodded, and the group settled into silence. With some of the adrenaline wearing off, weariness began to settle into his bones. The mission had been tough, and that crash landing had left him aching and sore, but worry for Lance was keeping him alert. By the looks of the rest of the team, they were all in a similar boat. 

Pidge was typing away at her laptop, Keith polishing his dagger and Hunk was absentmindedly tapping his finger against the armour plating of Lance’s suit where his hand rested on his shoulder. Shiro himself was alternating between looking at the time, checking Lance was still asleep, and checking his temperature. About thirty minutes of silence passed this way, with Lance’s temperature steadily dropping. It was back down to 102.3 when he began to shift, and 101.7 when his eyes blinked open. 

Hunk was the first to notice, sitting right by Lance’s head. “Hey, Lance. How’re you feeling?”

That drew everyone’s attention.

“Uhh…” Lance coughed, once, to clear his throat, then slowly sat up, with Hunk’s help. “I’m…okay…what’s going on?”

Keith scoffed loudly but Shiro silenced him with a quick look. 

“You don’t remember?” Pidge asked, prompting Lance to look down, clearly thinking.

“Last thing I remember we were forming Voltron and…oh shit, did I screw up the mission?” His head flew back up again, looking at Shiro with wide, guilty eyes.

“No, no! You did great, Lance, the mission was a success, and I can’t even imagine how tricky that was for you. We all got a glimpse of how you were feeling through Voltron, but I know it would have been a lot worse for you. We just got a bit caught in the explosion at the end. The lions are down for now, but hopefully they’ll be online again soon. Green’s online but recovering, and we’re just waiting for her to get a bit of her energy back before we can contact Allura and Coran for a pick-up.”

Lance nodded, looking slightly dazed. “Can I take my helmet off?” 

Shiro was about to say yes, before remembering the cooling system, and instead turned to look at Pidge. 

She shrugged. “I don't see why not. His fever’s down and the system should still work, it just might be a little less efficient with the helmet off. It’d probably be a lot more comfortable though.”

A soft hissing sound filled the air as Lance took his helmet off, shooting her a quizzical look. “System?”

“Your fever spiked pretty high - we think that’s why you passed out.” Keith said, shifting to get more comfortable on the floor. “Pidge activated the cooling system in your suit to get it down.”

“No wonder I’m so cold. How do I get it off?”

Shiro shook his head apologetically. “Sorry, Lance, but your fever is still higher than I’d like, you might have to keep it on for now.”

Grumbling something about being frozen alive, Lance allowed Hunk to pull him down to rest his head on his shoulder. “Sorry bud, it’s just for now. Once we’re back on the castle you can get to bed and sleep this off.” Hunk tried to soothe his best friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“Paladins, can you hear me? We’ve just received a signal from the Green Lion!” Allura’s voice rang out through the cockpit. 

Scrambling to her feet, Pidge threw herself into the pilots chair, Coran and Allura’s faces appearing on the screen. “Princess! Yes, we can hear you! We’re down on a nearby planet, all of the lions except Green are offline. I’m sending you our location now.”

“Got it! We’re on our way, is everyone okay?”

“We’re okay, Princess. Are you and Coran alright?”

“Don’t worry about us! A couple of bruises from that explosion but everyone is okay - the ships are back en route and no one was injured too badly.”

“That’s good. Do you have an ETA?”

“...E-T-A?”

“Oh, sorry,” Pidge laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Do you know how long it’ll take you to get to us?”

“We’re about twenty-five ticks away, so not long at all.”

Shiro relaxed at that. This ordeal was almost over, and then they’d all get the rest they needed. Lance especially, he thought, watching as the boy pressed closer to Hunk, as close as their armour would allow, shivering and pale. His eyes were shut again now and Hunk was whispering something to him, one big hand gently teasing through Lance’s hair. 

“You doing okay, Lance?” Keith asked, watching the two.

“His head’s hurting him, and he said he’s pretty dizzy.” Hunk supplied, and Lance looked grateful about not having to say anything. 

“Are you still nauseous?” Shiro asked, recalling the state of Lance’s own cockpit.

“A little.” Lance replied, his voice shaky. 

Keith snagged an empty box that used to contain the blankets Lance was sitting on and dropped it down next to him. “Throw up in that.” He ordered, pointing for effect. Shiro bit down a laugh at Keith’s attempt at helping, bringing a hand up to hide his smile.

Lance moaned, face pink with embarrassment as he turned and hid his face against Hunk’s shoulder, who just patted his back consolingly, also looking as though he were trying not to laugh. 

Pidge, however, openly laughed at them. 

Seeing everyone’s reaction, Keith cleared his throat awkwardly and shuffled. Then, took a deep breath and said, “I’m uh, sorry you’re not feeling so great.” Reaching out and robotically patting Lance’s ankle, where his leg was stretched out in front of him. 

“Thanks.” Lance grumbled, his face still hidden, though Shiro thought he sounded secretly touched. 

The next few minutes were spent pretty much the same: Pidge directing Coran and Allura to their location, Hunk making sure Lance was comfortable (or, as comfortable as he could be right now) and Shiro and Keith trying to look as though they weren’t both obsessively checking Lance’s vitals, and also trying to kill the time. Finding a small, loose bolt on the floor, Shiro rolled it towards Keith and then scooted away a little, making a goal with his hands against the floor. Smiling, Keith placed the bolt down in front of him, lined up the shot, and flicked. It smacked into Shiro’s forehead, and Keith cackled.

By the time the rumbling of the castleship could be heard outside, Keith was up 13-11, and Shiro’s forehead was bruising.

“Okay, Pidge, we’re just above you, is the Green lion ready to fly yet or should we land?”

Pidge considered this for a moment before nodding. “She should be okay just to fly up to you, the other lions aren’t online yet though.” 

“Not a problem!” Coran’s voice joined the conversation, as upbeat and loud as ever. “We’ll stay in orbit until they’re up and moving again!” 

“Okay, everyone strapped in?” Pidge asked, casting a glance over her shoulder and watching as everyone settled into more stable seating positions, minus Lance who remained barely awake, being hugged to death by Hunk.

“Wait, there’s no seatbelts back here!” Hunk shouted, frantic. 

Pidge smirked, and then they were launching into the air.

True to their word, the castle was right above them and it was barely thirty ticks until they were in Green’s hangar. Shiro stood, helping Hunk in getting Lance upright again. They walked down the ramp, Lance sandwiched between him and Hunk, a shivering, stumbling shell of his normal confident stride. Coran met them at the bottom of the ramp, holding a fresh pair of Lance’s light brown jogging bottoms and an oversized blue t-shirt, which Shiro gratefully took in one hand, steering Lance out of the room with the other and before he knew it, he was once again escorting Lance to his room to rest. 

The others had gone to shower and freshen up, and Shiro stopped at his room on the way to grab some clean clothes, and then they reached Lance’s room. Shiro took the bathroom to get changed, leaving Lance to change in his bedroom with the strict instruction to ‘yell if anything went wrong’. 

Pulling on his own grey sweatshirt and black gym shorts, Shiro made sure to give Lance plenty of time before gently knocking against the bathroom door. Upon hearing a soft ‘all good’ from the other side, Shiro creaked the door open slowly (giving Lance time to slam it shut again if he needed to), and slipped back into the bedroom. Lance was just a shivering lump under the covers now, brown curls peeking out the top of the duvet. 

“Hey, bud. Mind if I sit with you? It’s been a pretty…intense day, and I’d like to keep an eye on you for a little bit. It’d make me feel a bit better.”

Lance shuffled a little, moving more to the side to allow room on the bed. “Mmhm.”

Chuckling softly, Shiro pulled himself up onto the bed, sitting up leaning back against the headboard. Grabbing the thermometer that still lay discarded on his bedside table, Shiro gently pulled back the covers from over Lance’s face (he grumbled but his eyes stayed closed and he didn’t argue otherwise), and pressed the end into his ear.

101°F exactly. 

Satisfied, Shiro settled back against the headboard and let his eyes close. Not a moment later, he was blinking them open in surprise, looking down to see Lance pressed against his side, eyes closed and head resting against Shiro’s thigh. His cheeks were flushed with fever and his eyes were tight with discomfort, but he looked more comfortable than he had all day. Shiro just smiled, bringing his arm up to rest over Lance’s shoulders, watching as Lance relaxed even further. 

The next time Shiro opened his eyes, he could tell quite a lot of time had passed. The lights were off in Lance’s room now, and he blinked to try and adjust to the darkness. Shuffling to his left caught his attention, and his face split into a grin when he realised Hunk had squished himself in on Lance’s other side, arm linked with Lance’s and fast asleep. Curled at the end of the bed was Pidge, glasses still on and laptop shut in front of her, having clearly intended to do work but getting caught out by sleep. And to Shiro’s right, Keith was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed with his head resting on top of the mattress, laying on the arms he had folded under it. His own duvet was pulled up to his waist, and Shiro’s heart swelled at the thought that he had brought it from his room with the intention of falling asleep here with the rest of them. 

Drawn out of his thoughts but the sound of the door swishing open, he gave a small wave in greeting as both Allura and Coran snuck in, smiling sheepishly at being caught. They were both holding an abundance of pillows and blankets, and set up a make-shift bed on the floor behind Keith, settling in. 

“Goodnight, Shiro.” Allura whispered into the dark of the room, the only sound that of quiet breaths and Pidge’s soft snoring.

“Goodnight, Allura.” Shiro replied, closing his eyes once more. “Goodnight, Coran.”

He had no doubt tomorrow morning they’d all be sore from their unconventional sleeping positions, but it was worth it. It was no secret that Lance could get homesick, but maybe, just maybe, Shiro thought, they could be enough of a family to get Lance through until they were home again. And now, surrounded by the team who had all come to keep Lance company, even while he slept, he knew for certain that they would do whatever it took to get him feeling better again.