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That battle had been rough. Like, "just barely a win" rough. The Galra had ambushed them while they were celebrating on a recently liberated planet. The paladins had jumped to put themselves between the Galra and the civilians as the latter rushed to find shelter from the blast. But with their attention divided between the attacking Galra and the retreating locals was a struggle and it took a toll on the paladins right at the beginning of the fight.
Keith was breathing heavily, hands on his knees as he took a moment to take stock of himself. He'd caught a glancing shot on his arm, but nothing serious. Other than that he was just tired. Bone, dead tired.
He straightened and looked around the battlefield, taking count. Pidge looked okay. She was limping a little, favoring her left side, but was moving alright with a little help from Hunk. Hunk had some bruises and scratches but looked mostly fine. Allura was similarly grungy, scuffs on her armor and dirt on her face, but she didn't look hurt.
Pidge...Hunk...Allura...and Lance, who was stumbling up to him. And he didn't look good. In fact, it might be said he looked bad. Very bad.
He was listing from side to side, his eyes unfocused. He kept tripping over his own feet and he looked pale, a thing especially unnatural on the normally tan boy.
"Keith? Catch me," Lance muttered, taking another step forward.
Keith didn't know... "What?" He asked.
Lance didn't answer. Instead, he went boneless and Keith had just fast enough reflexes to catch him before he hit the ground. He was unconscious before he made it to Keith's arms. This was so, so bad.
"Lance!" He shouted, lowering them both to the ground. He pulled his hand away from Lance's side and found it covered in blood. Fuck. Lance's under-armor was soaked in that spot.
Hearing the shout, the others came running. Allura got there first, dropping to the ground beside them. "How bad is it?" Her hands fluttered above him, like she wasn't sure if she should touch him or not.
Keith shook his head. "I don't...I don't know. There was just enough time to catch him. I didn't see...I don't know what happened," he tried to explain. The words kept getting caught in his throat.
"We need to get him back to the Castle before more Galra goons show up," Pidge said as she and Hunk joined them.
Hunk looked like he didn't know if he wanted to cry or be sick, or both. He swallowed hard. "Pidge is right. I can grab Red. Your lion is faster than either of ours, so you get Lance to the Castle."
Keith looked down at Lance's unconscious form. "Yeah. Let's...let's do that." He lifted the other boy up. He was heavier than Keith expected with how skinny he was, and his long frame made him unwieldy, but Keith made it back to Black and took off, speeding through the atmosphere to where the Castle was waiting.
Call ahead, some rational voice in his mind managed to break through. With shaking hands, he turned on Black's coms. "Coran?" He called.
Coran appeared on the screen in front of him. "What is it, my boy? Allura said the battle was over."
"It is," Keith answered, the words rushing out of his mouth. "But Lance, he's hurt. Badly. We...I...he needs a healing pod. He's bleeding a lot and he's unconscious and I'm really worried about him."
"Breathe, Number Four," Coran ordered, already on the move. "Meet me in the infirmary when you get here. I'll have a healing pod and cryo-suit ready."
Keith nodded and the coms shut down. He focused on flying, trying hard not to think of the boy, the...friend...who was lying on the hard bed in the back of his lion. It was hard when his hands were stained dark red with Lance's blood.
Keith barely remembered the trip back to the Castle and then to the infirmary. Distantly, he thought it might be shock. Coran took Lance from him surprisingly easily and got him ready in the cryo-suit while Keith just sat and watched, dazed.
Once Lance was safely in a healing pod, Coran went over to check on Keith. "Number Four?" He said softly. "You in there, lad?"
Startled, Keith tensed and shook his head. "I'm...yes, I'm here."
"Not hurt anywhere, are you?" Coran was looking at his hands. Keith looked at them, too. Covered in dried blood.
"No, this is...this is..." Keith cleared his throat. "It's Lance's. The blood. I'll go...I'll go clean it off." He stood up and went to a nearby sink, watching the water turn red as it hit his skin. Eventually it ran clear and he turned the water off.
Coran put a hand on his shoulder. "The others are here now. Think you'll be alright without me for a tick?"
Keith nodded. He walked over to Lance's pod and looked in. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping. Or dead. People were supposed to look peaceful when they were dead. Relaxed.
He shook his head. Lance was okay. He was going to be just fine. He was going to be healed up by the Altean science mumbo jumbo and then he'd be good as new.
Keith was still going to worry the whole time he was in there.
He should have been paying more attention, should have been there for Lance. Lance, who was supposed to be their sharpshooter, who should have been so far away from any enemies that they wouldn't be a danger to him.
Keith would have to ask Lance what happened when he woke up.
He put his hand against the pod, staring at the peaceful, relaxed face of his usually energetic friend. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. He slid down to sit at the base of the pod and waited, a silent guard waiting for Lance to come out and tell him everything was good again.
When the others came in, they found him still sitting there, head leaning against the pod, asleep.