Chapter Text
No. No no no no no. Lance clutched at his wrist, eyes fixed on his palm. It looked for all the world like someone had dumped purple dye in his hand and let it stain, and he was absurdly reminded of the time he gave Ama a sharpie makeover. Her lips had been purple for hours, and as punishment his had been made green. But this wasn't a sharpie stain, unless somehow his hand had been stained through his flight suit. It wasn't the right colour either, not for marker ink and not for a bruise. More than anything else, it looked like galra skin. It looked like galra skin, and it was spreading.
Lance shut his eyes, curled his hand into a fist, and pulled it close to his chest. Blue would be back online soon, and then she could help him figure out what was going on. He just had to keep calm until then and try not to use up all his air before the recyclers kicked back in. What was it his instructors at the Garrison had said about deep-space survival? Don’t talk or move around more than necessary because both of those waste oxygen, keep your breaths slow and even to make your air last. He could do that, but just thinking about the purple spot on his hand made his heart speed up. That was bad, he had to be calm.
“Think, Lance.” he muttered under his breath. There had to be some way to calm down. His eyes flew open, and he felt a grin spread across his face. Home. He’d just think about home until Blue woke up, and then everything would turn out okay. It’d be better if he could ramble about them to someone else, but until Blue was running again he couldn’t even be sure if he was within comms range of anyone else.
Lance shut his eyes again, took a slow breath, and thought about home. he’d been too young to remember Salome’s adoption, but he was five years old when Mami brought Valero home. He’d been so delighted to finally have a brother, it hadn’t even fazed him that the newest member of their family could only toddle around with help. Lance grinned, remembering the day he’d been reading a book of Arthurian legends out loud to help teach his youngest sibling English and Valero had pointed at the Lady of the Lake to ask her name.
That same night, “Valero” had stood behind “his” chair at the dinner table and asked them to call her Viviane. Thinking about Viv, though, dragged Lance’s mind towards Pidge. How had he not noticed? Months of being in the same squad at the Garrison, weeks of sharing the castle, forming Voltron, and he still hadn’t seen it. Maybe it was because Viviane was still so young? Little kids tended to be of more or less indeterminate gender if you ignored their hair and clothes, but they were all old enough for the Garrison and by that age girls tended to be, well, noticeable. And Pidge, the fucking crazy tech wizard, had been actively pretending to be a boy. Lance frowned, and made a mental note to ask Pidge about pronouns once they were all back together.
Lance shook his head, and focused on his family again. Little Salome, who made him braid xir hair down xir back when it got too long for xir to do on xir own. Amalia, who was only a few months older than him and had taught him to climb trees. Fernanda, who had a knack for dating girls who could and would kick his ass either at video games or in real life, though once or twice she’d found a girl who could actually do both. Isidora, who had used him as her test subject for makeup until she went off to college to do it professionally.
A smile spread across his face when he remembered Mamá’s reaction to the news of her engagement, but it faltered after only a second. He’d been given permission to go home for her wedding, but it had already passed. Jenaro’s wife had probably had her baby too, and Salome’s birthday was coming up no doubt. Xe would be turning fifteen, and he wouldn’t even be able to video call to ask how xir quinceañera went. Lance pressed his head back against the headrest of his pilot seat, and tried to will away both the weight in his gut and the itching on his left hand. The still-gloved one. Shit.
He sat bolt upright, and yanked his glove off as fast as he could. Sure enough, the back of his left hand was turning purple. His breathing sped up, and he clutched his head. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this, he just had to think about it. When the wormhole went cuckoo and launched them all over the place, Blue had gotten zapped with that freaky purple lightning before they landed wherever the hell they were. That was why she was down right now, she’d shorted out when there were purple sparks flying everywhere. Lance shivered, and shook his hand at the memory of how the electricity had seemed to burrow through his flight suit instead of dissipating over the surface.
Wait, the electricity. Purple sparks, purple skin. It was probably, like, a rash or something from exposure to new alien bullshit. The shaving cream he’d found in the castle gave him hives, so this was probably something similar. Just normal a human reaction to weird alien zappy-magic.
Blue purred, and Lance exhaled heavily as he heard the oxygen recyclers turn back on. “Good to have you back, girl.” he muttered, patting the dashboard. “Now let’s see if we can reach anyone else.” he reached for the keys that controlled communications, and turned on his radio. Static, and nothing but. “Hello?” he lifted his right hand and rested his palm against the side of his helmet. “Anyone reading me?”
More static.
“Great.” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like it’s just me an’ you, Blue.” his eyes roamed the starry expanse in front of them, not a familiar constellation in sight. First things first, he needed to be able to get out and check his lion for damage. Nothing was compromised badly enough to make red lights show up, but that didn’t mean her armour was ready for another fight, or even sitting properly for her self-repair systems to work properly. “Any safe planets nearby?” he asked, resting his hands on the controls. Blue rumbled in the back of his mind, and he twisted her around to face a world which looked remarkably yellow where it wasn’t scorched black. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and Hunk’s already down there.” he muttered, tilting the joysticks forward and flying Blue in closer.
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Hunk was not already on the planet. Blue settled down at the top of a hill covered in golden grass that came up to Lance’s waist, and a quick survey of the area turned up flowing water at the foot of the hill and a forest a little ways downriver. A decent spot to make camp, even if he was pretty sure Blue’s emergency rations didn’t include the makings of s’mores. Her armour, as it turned out, had been almost entirely charred away where the purple lightning crawled over her metal skin. Lance knew that the lions could all replenish and repair themselves with solar energy, but how long it would take to heal these battle scars was another question entirely.