Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Lance, can you please just give me one good reason why you don’t want to go this year?” Veronica asks, following closely behind Lance as he walks through his house. He doesn’t answer.

 He simply opens the front door and gestures for her to leave. He raises his eyebrows expectantly when she doesn’t get the hint.

She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. “You do know your friends are going to wonder where you are, right? This is the one day out of the whole year that you don’t just not go. Didn’t you guys make it a rule or something?”

“An unspoken one, which means it’s not technically a rule if we never really discussed it,” Lance answers matter-of-factly, and Veronica rolls her eyes.

“It’s Reunion Day, Lance. You always show up. You don’t think anyone’s gonna be suspicious when you don’t show? Have you met your friends? They’re gonna be knocking down your front door as soon as they realize you’re not coming.”

Lance shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. A part of him knows that what she’s saying is true, but another part of him is telling him the opposite. 

“Look,” Veronica says, adjusting her glasses. “I know it’s hard, okay? I’ve been there, too. But running away from it isn’t gonna solve any of your problems. It’ll likely only make them worse.”

Lance doesn’t understand what the big deal is. 

“How about this? How about you get out of my house and stop telling me how to deal with my problems when you can’t even fix your own?” He asks, his tone harsh, but Veronica doesn’t so much as blink.

She raises her eyebrows, unimpressed. “That all you got?”

He sighs, resting his head against the open door. “I don’t want to go, V. Today’s just an all-around bad day,” He says, but she shakes her head.

“Maybe going out will cheer you up. Have you ever thought of that?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yes, going to meet all of my old friends on the seventh-year anniversary of the day that Allura–” He cuts himself off and looks away, avoiding Veronica’s knowing gaze. 

After a few minutes of silence pass, Veronica’s eyes soften. “It’s still that bad, huh?”

Lance doesn’t answer and chooses to focus on the cool air blowing inside his house. He exhales slowly, letting his silence speak for itself. 

“Why don’t you tell anyone about it? Go to therapy, or tell one of your friends. You don’t have to suffer like this. Grieving isn’t supposed to be this hard. You know that, right?” Veronica says gently. 

“You say that like it’s easy to do any of those things,” Lance says bitterly, keeping his eyes trained on literally anything else but his sister. He knows she’s giving him one of those pitiful looks. He hates those looks. Those looks always make him feel small and weak; they make him feel like he’s still eighteen.

“It’s hard because you don’t make an effort. You don’t try to get better. You just let it consume you,” Veronica says, and Lance shakes his head. “I’ve tried, okay? And I’ve gone to therapy. It does nothing for me.”

Veronica frowns. “You went to therapy once. It helps if you actually, you know, continuously go. It isn’t a one-day process. It takes time and effort on your part to actually make it happen.”

“Well, I don’t have the time to go, alright? I’m too busy,” Lance excuses and chooses this time to walk out of his house, leaving the front door open behind him. Veronica follows closely, shutting the door behind the both of them. They stand there on the porch, with Veronica still trying to catch Lance’s eye and Lance still not looking at her.

“What, too busy farming? We both know you absolutely hate this,” Veronica says knowingly, and Lance finally looks at her.

Trying to mind his tone, he carefully says, “I don’t hate it. It’s very relaxing, and I can pretty much do whatever I want out here.” 

The excuses sound fake, even to his own ears, but he doesn’t say anything else. “Lance, I’m your sister. I know you. What happened to the excited teenager who stuck his acceptance letter from the Garrison to the fridge? What happened to the boy who always talked about following in Dad’s footsteps? What happened to him?”

Lance feels his eyes watering and pinches the back of his hand. He’s not going to cry here. He’s not. 

Veronica slowly reaches out and grabs his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. Her gaze is kind, unwavering. “Please just go . Talk to your friends about this. Get your life back. You don’t have to stay here forever. Nobody’s gonna blame you for leaving. You can be happy. You don’t have to feel guilty for that.”

Her words are supposed to enlighten Lance and kick his ass into gear; he knows this, but…he still feels nothing. “You make it sound so easy,” He says and winces internally at his voice crack. 

Veronica purses her lips, clearly displeased that her words didn’t get through to him. “What’s it gonna take? Hmm?” 

Lance raises an eyebrow, not understanding the question. A part of him knows he’s being purposefully obtuse about all of this, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to be alone, and Veronica being here is disrupting that.

“What do I have to do to get it through your head that you can be better than this?” She asks, her tone starting to sound frustrated, and he sighs.

“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do except leave me alone. Just go home, Veronica. I’m tired, and I would really like to get some sleep. Can we have this talk another time?”

Veronica shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re really not gonna go see your friends? I told you, they’re going to–”

“I remember what you said, and I don’t care. I’ve blown them off before. It won’t be any different,” Lance says plainly.

Veronica just stares at him, her eyes growing colder and colder the longer she looks at him. “What happened to you?” 

Lance can’t stop the sarcasm before it comes out of his mouth. “A war happened, Veronica. Bad things happened. People died. And you know what happens when people die? People get sad as a result. Shocking, I know, but it really is quite the phenomenon.”

Veronica lets out a shaky breath. “You need help, Lance. Do you really think pushing me away is going to solve anything? Do you think pushing your friends away is going to make you feel better? It won’t. I’m telling you that right now.”

“You’re telling me a lot of things,” Lance says observantly. “But I don’t need you to. Do you know what I really need you to do? Leave. Please just leave.” He means these words as a plea, but it comes out more angry than he’s expecting. 

Veronica laughs, bitter and broken, backing away from him like he’s hurt her in some way, and he knows he has. That’s what he was trying to do. Hurt her, so she’ll never come back. Hurt her, so she’ll never have to worry about him ever again. 

Hurt her, so that she can finally get back to her own life instead of worrying about his.

She walks down the porch steps in a hurry, and Lance catches her faintly muttering about calling Marco to come and check on him. She’s already made it to her truck by the time Lance fully processes those words, so he’s not able to get a word in edgewise. 

He flinches as Veronica peels out of the driveway, her truck tires throwing dirt and pebbles every which way. She finally drives off, and Lance feels like he can breathe again. 

He sits down on the porch steps, watching her truck get smaller and smaller the farther it drives off. 

Lance knows he’s being difficult. He knows he’s being bratty and uncooperative and everything he shouldn’t be at his grown age. But he can’t handle people worrying about him. He already feels like enough of a burden on his own. Having people around, trying to help, and feeling sad on his behalf makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t want that. 

Suddenly, a familiar ringtone fills the silence Veronica left, and Lance closes his eyes in disappointment. Someone’s already calling to ask where he is. He doesn’t know if he wants to pick up the phone. 

He reluctantly pulls his phone out of his pocket and sighs when he sees Keith’s contact picture.

Lance had taken the picture a few years ago, but he still remembers the day it was taken like it was only yesterday.

Keith had forced him out of the house, one way or another. Lance can’t remember the specifics of how Keith got him out and about, but somehow, Keith managed it. Anyway, Keith had forced him into one of the Blade’s many shuttles after telling him to pack an overnight bag. He had neglected to tell Lance where they were going, only that they were just going off-grid for a little while. 

Lance had not been amused but let Keith take the reins for their little space trip. 

And that’s really all it was: a little space trip. They didn’t go anywhere exciting; they just sailed through the universe in their shuttle, pointing out familiar constellations and naming others. They even made some constellations up because, come on, there aren’t many constellations that resemble a walrus of all things, are you kidding?

The origin of the contact picture came when Lance had caught Keith sleeping. He had looked peaceful, and he even had a slight smile on his face. Lance had decided to take the picture then because Keith hated having his photo taken when he was awake, and Lance still needed a good contact picture for him. 

The sleeping Keith on his phone continues to mock him, and with a sigh, Lance presses accept , before bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” Keith sounds worried, his tone low and careful, like he’s expecting Lance to hang up at any second. 

“Oh, uh,” Lance starts, not quite sure what to say. Then he sighs, not seeing the point in lying. “I’m at home.”

“Oh.” It’s silent for a moment, but then Keith clears his throat. “Um, are you running late?”

Lance sucks in a deep breath. “No, I’m, uh, I–” He keeps stammering, not being able to get the words out. After a second or two of struggling, he just stops trying.

“You’re not coming, are you?” Keith sounds resigned, like he had been expecting this. 

“No, I’m not.”

It’s quiet again, and Lance has to briefly check to make sure neither of them has accidentally hung up. Nope. They both just don’t know what to say, apparently. 

“Are you still there?” Keith asks, his tone unreadable.

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Okay,” Keith says. “Okay. I’m about to ask a really dumb question, but–”

“Yes,” Lance interrupts. “I’m okay. I’m not in any danger. I’m not hurt. I’m just at home, sitting on my porch steps, talking to you.”

“Right,” Keith responds. “That’s good. But that’s not what I was going to ask.”

Lance sits there for a second, waiting for Keith to elaborate. When Keith stays silent, he says, “What were you gonna ask?”

“I was going to ask if I could come see you,” Keith replies.

“Oh.” Lance bites his lip, unsure of what to say. “Uh, I don’t think I’d make good company right now.”

Keith makes a noncommittal noise. “You’re always good company.”

“Thanks, really, but I mean it. I just got into a fight with my sister, and I just haven’t had the best day in general.”

“What was the fight about? Is that why you’re not coming?” Keith doesn’t sound accusing at all; just simply curious.

“The fight was about me not going. I kept trying to tell her that I didn’t want to go, that I didn’t feel well, but she just kept pushing,” Lance says, not exactly sure why he’s telling Keith this. 

“So your mind was already made up,” Keith says knowingly. His tone is still unreadable, but if Lance had to hazard a guess, he would think Keith sounds a little sad. 

“I guess so,” Lance answers, looking out over the juniberry field across from his house. He pays more attention to the sunset just behind the juniberry field, finding that to be the real beauty at the moment. 

“Would you be alright with me visiting you tomorrow?” Keith asks, sounding hopeful, and Lance tilts his head at the question, even though he logically knows that Keith can’t see his confusion.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Lance replies, feeling a bit stunned. 

“Okay. We’ll make a day of it, then,” Keith resolves. 

“Look,” Lance begins, because he doesn’t know when to quit. “If you’re only coming to visit just to check on me or give me your sympathies, you don’t have to come.”

Keith makes a surprised sound. “No. That’s not why I’m coming. I just wanted to visit you. I was kinda looking forward to seeing you today.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Lance says, still unsure of what Keith is playing at here. 

“You could never disappoint me,” Keith says back. Then there’s some shuffling around on Keith’s end, and then a sigh. “Looks like the others just showed up. Do you want me to tell them you’re sick?”

Lance doesn’t consider himself spiritual in the slightest, but right now, he sees Keith as a gift from the universe. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Lance says.

“Okay then,” Keith says, sounding a little reluctant. “I guess I’ll let you go. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

There’s a beep, signaling that the call has ended, and Lance lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stares at his phone for a second before turning it off and stuffing it back into his pocket. 

His eyes drift back toward the sunset, and he sits there on his porch steps, watching it. He doesn’t bother to keep track of time. He just observes as the sun slowly disappears below the horizon. The whole process turns the sky a pretty peach color, and Lance almost wishes that he had left his phone on so he could take a picture.

Sure, he can just turn his phone back on and simply do that, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off the sky right now. 

Lance brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, watching the sky steadily turn darker as time goes on. All he knows is that he just wants to sit here and do nothing. 

He can’t help glancing at the flowers in front of the sunset and finds himself admiring them. The juniberry flowers look to be blooming brilliantly this year; the remaining light from the sunset reflecting onto them makes them look even more radiant than usual. 

Lance sighs. A few years ago, he had thought it would be a good idea to plant a small patch of juniberries near his house. He thought it would be a good reminder of Allura because juniberries themselves aren’t exactly eyesores. They’re very easy on the eyes, and they smell pretty good. 

But, when he had planted them, he had no idea that the juniberry flowers were an invasive species, and he was very shocked to see that the small patch he had planted all those years ago had turned into a decent-sized field in the span of just a couple of years. Guiltily, Lance had regretted his decision to grow the damn flowers in the first place, but, he could never find it in himself to just get rid of them. It felt wrong to even think about it.

Without even thinking, Lance gets up from his spot on the steps. He absentmindedly dusts himself off before walking down the porch steps with a newfound yet unknown purpose. He realizes that he’s stalking towards the juniberry field, but he can’t imagine why. His legs feel like they’re made of lead, and it takes more time than it should just to reach the edge of the field.

Lance looks out over the field, feeling a sense of resentment and sadness flow through him. He feels culpable for feeling such emotions towards flowers, of all things, but he can’t help it. Having a constant reminder of the person causing Lance this kind of grief was a horrible idea; he doesn’t even know why he even humored it. What was his dumbass even thinking back then?

He slowly kneels down and plucks one of the flowers from the ground, gently holding it between two fingers. It really is a pretty flower , Lance thinks. It’s a dainty pink flower with three petals that each extend a good 4-5 inches outwards. The flower itself has a slight glow to it, and it stands out even more in the dark. 

Lance brings it closer to his face, taking a small whiff. It gives off a fruity scent, but the scent is familiar enough to make him feel uneasy. Lance knows that it’s familiar for a reason but can’t remember why. He has a feeling that Coran had explained the lore of juniberry flowers to him once, but he must’ve not been paying good attention because he can’t recall what Coran’s explanation had been. Maybe he’ll ask the next time he sees him.

Before Lance can contemplate whether he should crush the flower or put it in a vase, a particularly powerful gust of wind blows through, and the flower falls apart at the force. He can only watch as the petals get blown away from him, leaving him with nothing but a stem in his grasp. 

He doesn’t know why the sight of this seems to break his heart, but it just does . There’s a whole metaphor hidden in this situation somewhere, he knows it, yet he can’t bother to look for any hidden meanings. His eyes start to water out of frustration, and he chokes back a wounded sound. He brings his hands up to wipe at his eyes, dropping the stem in the process. 

Ugh , he hates crying. 

As he tries to rid his eyes of any remaining moisture, his hands rub against the Altean marks on his cheekbones, and he has to pause. He lets his fingers drift over the smooth, almost scaly-feeling surfaces, and he has to swallow back the lump in his throat. He always feels helpless when he thinks about the marks. It makes him want to just rip them off .

Lance keeps realizing, again and again, that he’ll never be able to truly move on from this, not as long as there’s a reminder peeking around every corner. The Altean marks, the juniberry flowers, his friends . They’re all reminders of one of the worst days of his life. And he hates thinking of his friends that way. He loves them; he thinks of them as family.

But he can’t deny that it gets harder and harder to see them each and every year. He knows they mean well, he does; but the pitiful looks and sympathy hugs just make Lance feel awful. 

The juniberry flowers are just as bad. They’re beautiful, don’t get him wrong, but jeez. The mere presence of the flowers expanding and invading the spaces all around him makes Lance feel claustrophobic. He knows they’re just flowers, but it feels like the walls are closing in sometimes.

And the Altean marks are the worst by far. The marks are mainly the reason Lance can’t even look in the mirror anymore; the main reason why he doesn’t even own one.

A month after Allura, Lance had swallowed down his grief for just a second and bit the bullet, finding a minuscule amount of courage to look at himself in the mirror. He had eye bags from not being able to sleep, and his eyes had been puffy and red from crying. His Altean marks seemed to glare back at him from his own reflection, mocking him for the very reason they were put there. Lance had immediately regretted his decision and made a note to himself that day to throw out every mirror he owned and never buy another one.

The reminders just make Lance’s grief even worse. Every day, he feels so, so helpless when he thinks about back then, about the lives he couldn’t save. It wasn’t just Allura’s death that ate him up; it was countless others that Lance wasn’t good enough to save, that he wasn’t even able to protect. He wishes that he could’ve changed the outcome of so many people’s fates, but he also knows that that isn’t possible. 

Despite that fact, Lance can’t help himself from pondering the possibilities. If only back then he knew the things he knows now. It doesn’t stop the pain, not by a long shot, but it eases the ache. A little bit, anyway.

Lance kicks at the ground thoughtlessly, watching a lone pebble skip across the dirt. He decides then and there that he’s done looking at the flowers and turns on his heel to leave, walking back to the house. He’s tired, and he just wants to sleep.

He walks up his porch steps and turns around once more, looking at the sky one more time. It’s dusk, and the sky is finally turning into a dark blue color. Lance can even see the beginnings of stars if he looks closely enough.

His friends would be eating dinner right now or even finishing up if they decided to cut it short this year. 

Lance sighs. He can’t say he would blame them if they did cut the dinner short. He doesn’t mean to imply that he would be missed since he didn’t show up, but he’s not dumb enough not to know that his absence will still certainly be noticed. He knows his friends; either way, they’ll be worried, or at the very least, their mood will be low. That is if they bothered to show up.

That’s not fair , his brain argues. You’re the one skipping out. 

Lance can’t really refute that. As far as he knows, he’s the only one not attending the Reunion dinner this year. Everyone else has always made time in their schedule to attend, with no exceptions. Whether they all had planning to do or meetings to attend, they would always make time. It was kind of an unspoken agreement to always show up; seven years later, Lance has finally broken that agreement, but he can’t say he feels super guilty about it. 

He does feel awful about it, don’t get him wrong, but there’s a really big part of him that’s just done with pretending. He’s done with faking smiles, and he’s done with trying to convince his friends that he’s okay and that he’s doing a lot better. He has grown tired of the looks of pity and quiet whispers behind his back and isn’t going to do it for the seventh year in a row. He is exhausted , and going to New Altea and seeing Allura’s statue isn’t going to help him at all. 

It’s too much for Lance’s heart to take. He won’t do it anymore.

Lance eventually gets tired of looking at the night sky, too, and turns around to walk inside his house. He locks the front door behind him and exhales slowly. He proceeds to go through the house and turns off each and every light, wanting to maintain the illusion that he isn’t there if anyone gets the bright idea to come and check.

After he’s sure the entire house is locked up, he makes it to his bedroom and simply stares at the sight before him. The clothes he had laid out just a few hours before mock him from their place on his bed. 

Just this morning, he had been set on going, set on going to dinner and seeing his friends again. He had been prepared, he had even hyped himself up, and yet, he wasn’t completely sure what changed his mind about it all.

It was like, one moment, he was actually ready , and the next moment, he had given up hope on the whole idea. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but it did, and the next thing he knew, Veronica was knocking on his door and asking why he was still at his house. 

Lance picks up the blue button-up shirt he had been planning to wear and hangs it back up before turning around to fold up the pair of jeans he had chosen to go along with it. He shoves the jeans into the bottom drawer of his dresser, this drawer being typically used for clothes Lance only really wore on special occasions.

There’s the blue bowtie he had worn to Shiro and Curtis’ wedding. Then there’s the blue dress shirt he had worn on his first date with Allura. Finally, Lance’s eyes fall on the leather jacket that belonged to his late Pop-Pop, and he has to close the drawer quickly before he does something stupid, like cry again.

Lance steps away from the dresser, not liking the melancholy coursing through his veins. The feeling threatens to swallow him whole, so he chooses to collapse onto his bed instead of thinking any more about it.

He turns over and smothers his face into his pillow, pulling up his comforter over him. He’s just going to sleep. 

Sleep has never let Lance down, no matter what. Contrary to what everyone said would happen, that he would have nightmares and that he undoubtedly has some form of PTSD, bad dreams have never interrupted Lance’s sleep. He will forever be grateful for that, considering sleeping has become his coping mechanism.

Now, is that healthy? Probably not. 

Is he gonna do it anyway? Obviously. 

Lance closes his eyes and welcomes the sleep that gladly takes him into its embrace.

When Lance finally opens his eyes after however many hours, he’s a little confused.

Hold on.

First, he knows that he’s not at home. 

Wait.

Second, he only knows this for sure because he’s currently staring at a ceiling right now (not his ceiling at home, thank you very much) that is covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. 

Huh?

And third, the reason that he’s confused right now is because his ceiling at home doesn’t have glow-in-the-dark stars on it. His ceiling at home is blue and is also covered in cobwebs that Lance was too lazy to clean up.

This ceiling he’s looking at right now is light gray and is covered in star stickers. And there’s a suspicious stain in the corner that vaguely reminds Lance of a time back at the Garrison when he shook up a soda pop and opened it prematurely, causing it to explode everywhere.

In fact, the resemblance is almost uncanny.

Lance sits up in bed suddenly, finally taking the time to truly take in his surroundings. He feels his heartbeat begin to quicken as his eyes drift over every little detail of the room he’s in. 

He knows this room. He remembers this room.

The motivational posters, the photos of Lance and Hunk in middle school, the star maps riddled across the walls. These are all things Lance remembered having during his first year at the Garrison.

What. The. Fuck?

Lance blinks. He blinks again. Then he blinks one more time, just to make sure he’s not dreaming. 

Nope. Everything’s still there, and nothing has changed. 

Lance gets up out of bed and slowly walks around the room, taking his time to examine every minute detail. His old desk is covered in papers, and when Lance looks through them, he realizes that they’re all letters from his family. 

There are a few from Marco, a lot from Mom, and more than a dozen from the rest of the family. Lance actually feels a small smile form when he sees a few drawings from Sylvio and Nadia. The scribbles are a little shakier than Lance has gotten used to seeing, and he starts to get a bad feeling. He hasn’t seen drawings like this since they were five. 

Lance organizes the papers before setting them down, and he steps away from the desk. 

There has to be a clock around here somewhere. Perhaps a calendar.

He spots an alarm clock that’s on his bedside table, and he steps closer to read it. 

It’s three o’clock in the morning. Okay, that’s something. It’s three o’clock in the morning wherever the hell he’s at. Now he just needs to find out the date because he has a very real, very ridiculous suspicion of what’s going on, but he needs to see the date just to make sure. 

He already feels crazy for even thinking it in the first place.

Lance backs away from his nightstand and turns around to look at the other side of the room when he freezes. 

He’s not alone.

Hunk.

Hunk is there, in the bed across the room from his, snoring away. He’s still sound asleep, with a sleeping mask pulled over his eyes and a pair of comically large headphones placed over his ears. 

He looks younger than the last time Lance saw him, at least from what Lance can see right now, anyway. Hunk’s hair is shorter, his face is devoid of any stubble, and his jawline is rounded out, and Lance is reminded of their teen years when Hunk looked exactly like this.

In fact, this whole situation feels familiar. It reminds him of his first day at the Garrison.

Lance remembers.

 The night before their first day, he had been so amped up about just being there that he couldn’t go to sleep, no matter how many times Hunk had begged him to try. And because of how Lance was back then, he simply couldn’t. Hunk had looked like he was going to cry about the whole situation, so he had offered his headphones and sleeping mask so Hunk could block out his incessant chatter.

Hunk had gladly accepted the offer and was out before his head even hit his pillow. 

Lance takes in a shaky, quiet breath, trying to process what the hell is happening. 

Hunk, his best friend, is currently ten years younger than the last time Lance saw him, and he’s just sleeping. 

Lance turns on his heel and walks into their shared bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He runs a hand through his hair and is even more shocked to find that his own hair is shorter.

First off, what the hell? He’s been spending the past two years trying to grow it out since Sylvio, the little rascal, shaved it off in his sleep, second–

Lance shakes his head. Now’s not the time for that.

He sighs tiredly before facing the mirror and stops short. 

It isn’t only Hunk that looks ten years younger. 

He steps closer to the mirror, resting his hands on the sink as he takes in his appearance. He hasn’t seen himself like this in so long.

He hasn’t seen his freckles, or his wavy hair, or even his smooth, healthy complexion in this way for so long. Lance hasn’t seen his reflection in so long.

The thing that shocks Lance the most, however, is the distinct lack of Altean marks on his cheekbones. 

Lance watches his own reflection as he brings his fingers up to poke and prod at his face. He stretches and pinches, watching his skin slowly get irritated at the pressure he’s applying. Surely, he would’ve woken up by now if this was a dream? 

He feels tears form in his eyes against his will and wipes them away. Despite his best efforts, though, the tears continue to fall, and he can only sit and watch himself cry in the mirror. The tears drip down his mark-free but freckled-filled cheeks, and all he can do is smile. 

It turns out he’s not crying out of sadness like he thought he would. He’s crying out of relief. 

Lance turns away and quietly closes the bathroom door before slowly sinking to the floor. He brings his knees up to his chest and just sits there, huddled in a ball. He simply lets the tears fall and doesn’t bother to try and wipe them away. He doesn’t cry out or make any sort of noise; he just sits there and lets his tears speak for themselves. 

It’s been so long since he’s seen himself without the Altean marks Allura had given him all those years ago. He had forgotten how he used to look without them. It’s refreshing, and Lance has to guiltily admit that he likes himself better without the Altean marks rather than with them.

After what feels like an hour, and after his tears have dried, Lance gets up and steadies himself by leaning against the sink. He looks in the mirror again, relieved to see that nothing has changed in the past hour or so. He’d almost thought that this little crying fit had merely been a dream and that when he looked in the mirror again, he’d be twenty-five again. Lance truly thinks that would’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

He looks at himself thoughtfully, trying to remember how his first day at the Garrison went. If he’s remembering correctly, the classes at the Garrison don’t start until around seven o’clock.

That gives him about three hours to get himself fixed up and ready for the day, which is too much time, frankly, but he isn’t going to complain either.

Lance exits the bathroom and goes to his dresser, gathering up his first-year uniform, grimacing at the unflattering orange color. He had forgotten how truly ugly the uniforms used to be. Not only does it have a surprising lack of pockets, but the material also smells vaguely of motor oil. He shakes his head and walks back into the bathroom, uniform in hand, and starts a hot shower, still not quite sure what to make of all this.

He knows he should be freaking out right now. That’s what any sane person would do if they were sent back in time, right? And normally, a sane person would be running around, asking questions, and just overall freaking the fuck out because this is not normal. People don’t just go back in time. This sort of thing only happens in movies, doesn’t it?

Lance strips off his pajamas and is disappointed to find that he’s lost all of his muscle definition from his time as a paladin. Yeah, it makes sense, considering he’s only supposed to be fifteen or so right now, but still, it’s disheartening. Not to mention how self-conscious he’s going to feel. He sighs. Just when he had finally gotten past it.

He steps into the shower and feels relief at the feeling of the hot water. There are no sore muscles or nerves for the hot water to soothe, and Lance just revels in this, content to just live out the rest of his life in this shower. It’s just him and the hot water now, with no bruises, scratches, or soreness to ruin the moment. If Lance is being honest with himself, he probably would’ve started crying again if he hadn’t cried himself out earlier. 

After another hour passes (because Lance doesn’t really give a quiznak about the Garrison’s water bill), he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. He takes a glance at himself in the mirror and is still blown away by what he’s seeing. He looks so, so young. 

Yeah, he’s definitely just turned fifteen at this point in time. 

He looks away from the mirror and gets dressed in the ugly uniform he laid out earlier, surprised that he still has the muscle memory to remember all the buttons and latches he has to undo to put the damn thing on. He’s glad that they decided to abandon this design during his third year, but unfortunately, he didn’t really get a lot of time to enjoy it due to…circumstances.

Case in point: Voltron.

As Lance zips up his jacket, he feels a wave of unease consume him. His mind keeps telling him he should be freaking out, but here he is, happy as hell to just be taking a shower . He has to be in some kind of shock, but he’s not going to worry about that right now. 

He’s going to enjoy this peace while it lasts. He has no idea how he’s going to act when the shock finally wears off, so he’s just going to do his best to act as normal as he can.

Lance finally exits the bathroom and is pleased to see that his sense of time is correct, as the time is currently 5:15 a.m.

He could easily sneak out and get breakfast if he really wanted to. He knows and remembers all of the escape routes, and he isn’t forcing Hunk to come along, so it’d be the perfect opportunity. He’s practically the master of stealth. 

Lance decides to bite the bullet and sneaks out of the room and down the numerous hallways the Garrison has, hopping into empty trash cans and ducking behind walls when a guard passes by. The Garrison’s about a thirty-minute walk away from Atco, a small town that is home to one of the best donut shops ever: Donut Paradise.

Yeah, okay, the name is pretty cliche and a little on the nose, but it seriously fits because the donuts there are the best.

Lance used to hate making the walk down there before he got a car, but right now, he seriously needs the exercise. If everything really is going to play out the same as last time, he needs to try and get as strong as he can be before he and his friends get shot up into space. 

Okay, that sounds kinda ironic, considering he’s going to a donut shop of all places, but he digresses. 

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, even if it’s pure sugar. 

Lance bursts back into the dorm room, gasping for breath. He leans back against the door, locks it, and listens as the guard who had caught sight of him stalks by his door. 

Whoo, that had been way too close.

Lance looks up and takes notice of a wide-eyed Hunk, who is now currently awake and looking at Lance as if he just shot someone. “Dude, where have you been ?” Hunk asks, his voice certainly a lot higher than the last time Lance heard it. 

Wow, Lance thinks to himself. We’re really going to have to go through puberty all over again, huh?

“Uh–”

“Because I woke up,” Hunk starts, standing up. “And you weren’t there. So, my first thought was to check the bathroom. And guess what? You weren’t there, either .”

“I have a good explanation for that–”

Hunk begins to pace the room. “And so I thought, Oh no, I slept in, why didn’t Lance wake me?” Hunk continues. “But then I checked the time, and it was only 5:30, and the Lance I know doesn’t wake up until the very last minute. So,” Hunk says accusingly. “Where the heck have you been, young man?”

Lance holds up his box of donuts, albeit feeling just a little shameful. “Getting donuts. Want one?” 

Hunk squints his eyes suspiciously. “Did you get the ones that have jelly and cream cheese?”

Lance nods. “Of course I did.” 

Hunk’s expression melts, and he finally smiles. “Okay. You’re forgiven, then.”

Lance gives Hunk the box and cracks his own smile. He hasn’t talked to Hunk like this in a while. 

The last few times they had been together, it was mostly small talk and gossip about diplomats Hunk didn’t particularly like. They sadly hadn’t bantered like this in years, and Lance couldn’t deny that that was mostly his fault. Lance was the one who pushed everyone away. Everyone else made an effort to stay in touch, but not him. 

They had once promised each other in middle school that they would always be friends, that they would be the best man at each other’s weddings, and that they would never be strangers to each other. And while Lance had kept the first promise, he couldn't keep the other two. After Allura, he could hardly hold a conversation with Hunk, let alone with anyone else. There was always that underlying feeling of guilt and shame that he felt. And as for being his best man...he never got the chance. Hunk and Shay were still mailing out wedding invitations in the previous timeline. Hunk had asked, and Lance had accepted, but the wedding was still months out, so it was really just a matter of timing. 

It sounds kind of narcissistic, but Lance had felt like everyone silently blamed him for not saving Allura. After Coran, he was probably the closest one to her, and yet, he couldn’t do anything to stop the inevitable. It’s stupid, considering everyone and their mother told him that it wasn’t his fault, but a part of him couldn’t help feeling that way.

“You okay, man?” Hunk’s question breaks through Lance’s thoughts, and Lance nods.

“Yeah, I was just thinking,” He excuses, but Hunk, as always, is curious. 

“About what?”

Lance shrugs, not able to come up with a good reason off the top of his head. “Just stuff.”

Hunk takes a bite out of his donut, frowning. “Okay? What kinda stuff?”

“I don’t know, dude,” Lance says, trying his best not to sound snarky. “Just stuff. I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick, that’s all.”

“I feel that,” Hunk nods understandingly. “I had a dream last night about my family. I was gonna call my mom to tell her about it until I saw you were missing.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you took off at the crack of dawn to get donuts ? Not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but it’s sorta off-brand for you.”

Lance bites his lip, not able to come up with a good enough excuse. “New year, new me?”

“It’s the middle of August,” Hunk says, unimpressed.

“Well, I meant, like, a new school year? I’m trying to be more mature,” Lance says. 

“Just last week, you drew on my face while I was sleeping. With permanent marker.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance starts, that memory slowly returning to him. He and Hunk decided to have one last sleepover at Lance’s house, where Lance had decided to draw something not-so-nice on Hunk’s forehead, which earned him a light smack on the head from his Mom, who seemed a little amused herself and a long lecture from Veronica, who was not nearly as entertained. 

Hunk found the whole thing funny until they both realized that Lance had used a permanent marker instead of a washable one. Then Hunk started freaking out, and Lance had to run to the store to get hand sanitizer so they could remove the offensive drawing from Hunk’s forehead. 

“I’m trying to learn from my mistakes?”

“You are? Because you don’t seem that sure about it,” Hunk says, squinting his eyes suspiciously. 

“Definitely.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Hunk finishes off his donut and gets up from his bed. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick. Maybe after that, we can walk around the school for a bit?”

“Sure,” Lance agrees. “I saw a vending machine during my donut run. We can grab a drink.” He’s silently hoping that when they’re walking around, they’ll catch a glimpse or two of the others.

Hunk nods before grabbing a change of clothes and entering the bathroom. 

Lance sits on his own bed and sighs, thinking over what his plan is going to be for the next few years. First, he needs to find the others and make sure they’re okay. Hunk is literally his roommate, so Lance will have no problems keeping an eye on him.

He likely won’t see Pidge at all until Keith drops out, so that’s a bit of food for thought. It’d be almost two years before he’d even see her. Her brother, Matt, would surely be here, but he’s in a completely different class from Lance, so there’s not going to be any chance of them talking anytime soon. 

Keith’s a different story. As much as Lance would prefer it, he doubts Keith would be amenable to starting a friendship. It had been impossible the first time, so why would this time be any different?

And then there’s Shiro. At this point in time, Shiro has just become a very well-known pilot at the Garrison, and in a little over a year, he’s going to be one of three people chosen to go on the Kerberos mission. Lance doesn’t exactly want Shiro to go through the pain of being tortured and forced to kill for a year, nor for Pidge and her mom to go through the pain of missing her brother and father, but how else are they going to find out about Voltron?

If there were any other way, Lance would obviously prefer not putting any of them through that, but it doesn’t seem like there’s a whole lotta choice in the matter. The only reason Lance can even feel positive about the matter is because he knows they all come out of it alive. Well, Shiro, somewhat, but the others will be fine, at least.

He feels horrible for even thinking of it that way. 

After Hunk finishes with his shower, he and Lance make their way to the lounge. The lounge pretty much serves as a breakroom for the Garrison students and staff. It has a fridge, 6 different vending machines, and even a microwave. 

Despite it being one of the more roomier places to hang out, Lance and Hunk hardly ever spent any time here in the last timeline. They had a mini fridge and a microwave in their room (against regulations, mind you), so they never really saw the point in going there.

Now, as Hunk marvels over all the drink and snack options, Lance finds himself slightly regretting their past decisions. Hunk puts a dollar in and gets himself a bottle of water before looking around the room. “Uh,” Hunk starts. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here? I figured there’d be more people.”

“Well, there’s a sign over the doorway that says, “ All cadets welcome!” , so yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Lance says conversationally. He can understand Hunk’s concern, though; besides the two of them, there are only a couple of teachers in there. The time is only 6:40, there are still twenty minutes before the big opening speech. 

“Everyone might be in the auditorium,” Lance suggests. “We could head over there so we can get some half-decent seats.”

“Sure.”

Despite Hunk’s calm tone, he seems to get amped up as he starts to remember that this is their first real day at the Garrison. Regardless of the fact that Hunk took a two-week-long summer course at the Garrison, he still preferred a full school day compared to a few short hours. While Lance could understand Hunk’s preference, he couldn’t personally relate. 

He grabs the sleeve of Lance’s jacket and drags Lance behind him as they exit the room, not noticing Lance’s grunt of pain when he hits his head on the doorway.

When they make it to the auditorium, they’re pleased to see that there are still two empty seats in the second row and promptly sit in them. Hunk starts muttering to himself excitedly, and if Lance pays attention, he can hear Hunk pondering to himself about which classes he should take. 

Lance takes a quick glance around the room and recognizes Shiro, who’s currently standing near the front of the room, talking to one of the other staff members. 

Oh.

That isn’t just any staff member. That’s Adam West, the teacher who taught Aviation Theory and Shiro’s dead ex-fiance. He’s here, alive, well, and happy. Lance examines the two of them from his seat and notices that neither of them have an engagement ring as of yet. 

If Lance remembers correctly, the two got engaged right before the Kerberos mission announcement and before it was decided which team was going to go. 

Shiro went on the mission, and Adam stayed, and they never saw each other again.

Whenever Shiro used to talk about Adam, as rare as it was, he always had a measured sadness behind his eyes, like he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to grieve the loss or not. 

“I left him,” Shiro had said once, running a hand through his chalk-white hair. His eyes had been bloodshot from holding back tears. “Is it acceptable for me to feel like this, considering I knew that was a possibility when I left him in the first place? He told me not to expect him to be there when I got back. I never would’ve thought…” Lance had assured him back then that grieving was okay, that Shiro could let himself feel sad about the loss. Shiro had simply looked at Lance like he was a hypocrite, which wasn’t exactly untrue, and that conversation had ended in silence. 

Lance never met Adam, nor did he know him personally. He only knows small tidbits about the man that Shiro felt comfortable sharing. Keith never talked about him, but Lance chalked that up to him just being tired of losing people and just not wanting to think anymore about it.  

As Lance recalls, Adam died during Sendak’s invasion of Earth. 

Knowing that, and if Lance really did go back in time, it’d probably yield better results if he could defeat Sendak the very first time the team encounters him. It’d save countless lives for sure, considering the commander had been the root of a lot of their problems. Lance has a few ideas on how he could remedy the immediate threat the commander possessed but decides to save that train of thought for a later time. He still has a few years before he has to cross that bridge, and he never has been that good at decision-making. 

There’s also still the very real possibility of all of this just being a weird ass dream he’s having. He wouldn’t put it past himself to make up something like this in a dream. He’s sincerely hoping that isn’t the case, though.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by Hunk grabbing his arm.

“It’s starting!” Hunk says excitedly, shaking Lance’s arm. Lance has to resist the urge to wince at Hunk’s steady yet underdeveloped strength. 

Shiro makes his way up to the stage and introduces himself like he isn’t a widely renowned pilot who encouraged more than half of the kids here to enroll. He starts his speech, and the auditorium quiets down as he talks.

He speaks with authority, and as he continues to talk, Lance finds that he can recite this speech word-for-word if he really wants to. Lance remembers this speech; it’s the standard first-day-of-the-school-year speech for all cadets, nothing too important in hindsight. 

The two times (now three, technically) that Lance has heard this speech from Shiro, he’s always added his own spin to it, always added a motivational quote here and there to make it unique, even threw a dad joke or two in there, causing some of the more nervous new cadets to loosen up a little. 

Whenever Iverson gave the speech, it sounded like he was reading from a script, and the gruff tone he spoke with only seemed to make the cadets even more nervous and on edge than they already were. Iverson himself seemed to take great pride in being an asshole, so he probably thought it was funny to torment the new recruits.

The speech starts to come to a close as a nearby secretary comes up to the podium beside Shiro. She tells everyone where to go to figure out their schedules, and then says, “We hope you enjoy your first day of the new year!”

Shiro thanks her and then turns back towards the rest of the cadets. He claps his hands together. “Well, I think that just about covers it,” He says finally. “Thank you guys for listening, and please, stay focused during your time at the Garrison. Remember, patience yields focus.”

Lance frowns at that last line. He didn’t remember Shiro ever saying that last time, not during this speech at least. Weird. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention?

Shiro’s eyes scan the room as he takes in all the newcomers, and Lance almost swears that Shiro’s eyes light up with recognition at the sight of him and Hunk. He can’t be completely sure, though, considering Shiro’s gaze only lasted a brief second before continuing around the room and stopping again.

Lance follows Shiro’s gaze, and his eyes widen when he sees a familiar head of hair. 

Damn. Has there ever been a time when Keith didn’t have a mullet?

“Who’re you starin’ at?” Hunk suddenly whispers, causing Lance to jump. “No one!” He answers defensively, feeling a little flustered that he just got caught staring. “Just checkin’ out the competition.”

Hunk just raises his eyebrows, expression full of skepticism, like he knows something Lance doesn’t. 

Lance clears his throat. He needs to redirect this conversation somewhere else. “Anyway, what classes did you sign up for? I know you got a head-start since you came here during the summer—”

Hunk shrugs. “I still had to sign up for most of the standard ones since apparently the credits I got during the summer don’t count until next year.” Then Hunk smiles nervously. “I did get to choose Cooking as my elective, though, so it won’t be all bad.”

Lance smiles. Hunk has always been a decent enough chef, even since they were kids, but something about the Garrison, or perhaps it was being up in space, changed the way Hunk prepared meals. “You think you’ll have fun?”

Hunk nods, though he still looks a little unsure. “I hope so.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lance says, certainly, because this, he knows for sure. 

“Thanks,” Hunk says back appreciatively. “What about you, though? You still have to pick out your classes, don’t you?”

Lance thinks about this for a second. Last time, he had taken Flying class, which was fun, all in all, but he never really learned anything during his first year. He mostly sat on the sidelines, watching the senior cadets. He only got to fly in the simulator one time, and that was on the last day of the year. 

He needs to take another class this time, one that he’ll actually learn from. 

“What about Flying ?” Hunk suggests, noticing Lance’s pause. Lance shakes his head. 

“No, I think I need something more technical than that,” Lance says. He could take Engineering, but that’s really more Hunk’s thing. Besides, he’s better at breaking stuff rather than putting it together.

Hunk hums, thinking deeply. “Maybe Aviation Theory? I think Mr. West teaches that.” Then Hunk frowns. “Are you sure you wanna do that, though? You won’t get a lot of practice in the simulator. Last night, you were talking my ear off about getting to try it.”

Lance shrugs. “I probably won’t get much time in it, anyway. I hear the senior cadets take that class more than anyone since it’s an easy grade, which means—”

“They’ll have seniority,” Hunk finishes, finally understanding. “Gotcha. Wow,” Hunk expresses, looking impressed. “Who are you and what have you done with Lance?” He asks jokingly.

Lance is about to respond when a booming voice cuts him off. 

“All cadets can start signing up for their classes! Dismissed!”

Ugh. Iverson. Lance could’ve definitely gone another year or two without hearing that asshole’s voice again. Lance scowls, not able to hide his annoyance. 

Lance and Hunk get up from their seats and head over to the secretaries at the back of the room, who are diligently signing each cadet up for their desired classes. “Wow, this is starting to feel real now, huh?” Hunk asks, beaming with excitement. It’s so surprisingly childish that Lance almost recoils from the innocence of it.

The happiness is coming off of Hunk in waves, and from the looks of it, the people around him are getting affected by it, too. Lance can’t hide his own grin, though the moment almost feels lost on him now. 

He’s already been through this before. He can’t feel genuinely exhilarated about it. “It is,” Lance agrees anyway. 

They make their way to the front of the line and go through the motions. Lance ends up taking Hunk’s suggestion and chooses Aviation Theory as his elective. The words themselves feel foreign coming out of his mouth, but the secretary doesn’t even bat an eye. She has his schedule printed out in less than two minutes and hands it back to him with a smile. 

Lance remembers the whole class-choosing process taking way longer last time, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The whole situation is weird. He needs to get used to it. He’ll just need to handle stuff as it comes along. If he wakes up tomorrow morning and he’s still here, then he’ll put some more thought into this whole thing.

He looks down at his schedule and notices that the elective he chose is the first class of the day. Lance doesn’t have any problems with taking the class, none at all, but it’s an odd change of pace. Hopefully, it’ll work out to be a nice one. 

Lance bids Hunk farewell with the promise to meet up later, before turning around and walking down a familiar hallway. He passes by the Flying classroom and feels an immediate sense of loss at this.

While the class itself wasn’t exactly fun for him last time (not during his first year, anyway), he still made a few friends around his own age who would goof off and joke around with him. The few good memories he has of the class flash through his mind in a second, and he sighs. 

One man’s loss is another man’s gain. Or whatever the saying is. Lance will choose to think about it that way. 

He finally makes it to Mr. West’s classroom and walks in. The classroom is pretty basic, all things considered, but the thing that stands out to Lance the most is the chalkboard at the very front of the room. Mr. West is written in the top right corner of the board in pretty cursive, and Lance tilts his head at how old-school this feels. 

He reluctantly takes a seat near the back, one that’s closer to the door, and sets his bag down. Lance starts to feel a little anxious. This change is different, though he can’t tell if it’s good or bad, yet. 

“Hey, McClain,” A voice calls out from the doorway. Lance looks up and immediately scowls. 

“What are you doing in here?” James Griffin asks, and, to his credit, he doesn’t sound snarky or as annoying as Lance remembered him to be. He just seems…confused. His eyes are narrowed, and Lance realizes he’s waiting for an answer.

Lance motions to his desk, pointing out the obvious. “What does it look like, dirtbag?”

Okay, whoa. Lance hadn’t meant to let his irritation show, but clearly, it did. 

James lets out an annoyed huff. “Well, it just looks like—”

“Go sit down,” Lance simply says, cutting him off.

Surprisingly, James walks off without another word, though he maintains angry eye contact the whole way to his seat, which is thankfully on the other side of the room near the front. Lance doubts that’s the last he’ll hear of James, but, for right now, he’s going to choose to enjoy the peace and quiet.

Then someone plops into the seat in front of him. Lance recognizes the mullet instantly and briefly goes through a small crisis. 

Keith took a class in Aviation Theory? Lance supposes that makes sense. Keith seemed to always be an expert at pretty much everything. Why wouldn’t he take this class? It’d look nice on a transcript, plus it’d probably give him a few more pointers on learning how to pilot a ship. Even then, though, from what Lance has heard, Keith’s always been a prodigy, at least at this sort of thing. 

Lance rests his face in his hand and sighs, trying to ignore James’s glare. He wasn’t intentionally trying to make enemies this time around, but it looks like he’s already failed.

That’s what happens when you call someone a dirtbag, dumbass.

“Did you piss him off or something?” Keith’s voice suddenly asks, and Lance looks up. 

Keith’s turned around in his chair, curiosity plain as day on his face. 

“What?” Lance says dumbly. 

“James,” Keith clarifies patiently. “Did you piss him off? Because he’s straight-up glaring at you, and he’s not being subtle about it at all.”

Lance shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. “I called him a dirtbag,” He answers honestly. James lets out a loud grumble from across the room as if he heard them. 

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Look,” Lance defends. “I’m not usually a rude person who calls people names, but he was totally judging me. With his eyes. Like hardcore judging.”

Lance doesn’t know why he’s defending himself to Keith. It’s not like he has something to prove. 

Keith narrows his eyes into a calculating look. He looks serious. 

But then his lips quirk up into a restrained smile, like he’s trying not to laugh. “You’re funny,” Keith tells him, and then turns back around in his seat, leaving Lance bewildered. 

Lance blinks. He can’t tell if he just got made fun of or not. 

Mr. West eventually enters the room and starts the class, much to Lance’s relief. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but taking this class could have a hand in changing Adam’s fate. The possibility of that is minuscule; he knows that, but he’s going to choose to believe in that, because every time he looks at Mr. West, he feels an insane amount of guilt. 

He logically knows it was Sendak’s invasion that caused the deaths of Adam and multiple others, but he can’t help but feel responsible. If Sendak had been taken out earlier, none of those deaths would’ve happened, and that’s just including the ones on Earth. Who knows how many others Sendak had killed? The thought makes Lance feel nauseous. 

Lance feels his mind swirling as Mr. West goes over the syllabus and almost blanks out completely when he asks the class to divide into groups of two. He wasn’t expecting a group project so soon. 

“Hey,” Keith’s voice asks from in front of him, and Lance looks up from his empty notebook. Keith’s turned around in his seat, wearing the same calculated expression he wore before.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna be partners?” Keith asks, tilting his head. 

“Sure,” Lance answers without skipping a beat, and Keith moves so that he’s leaning over Lance’s desk. The position can’t be comfortable, but Keith doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Where do you think we should start first?”

The two of them talk idly through the project. It’s a simple slideshow, nothing too difficult, so they really only just take notes and look through their textbooks for certain sources. 

It’s weird seeing Keith actually act like a student up close. Lance never doubted he was smart, of course, but he also never saw him in such a calm light. At this age, he always saw him as the hot-tempered individual who always got himself into trouble. It’s jarring seeing Keith act so calmly, but it’s not bad, not by a long shot. 

Would he be able to befriend Keith at this point in time?

Lance looks up from his notebook and frowns. Another sense of loss hits him again, though this time, it makes his eyes sting a little. 

The whole friendship they had, all their interactions and arguments and fights, they’re all just gone. All that progress. All those memories. 

“You okay?” Keith asks, sensing Lance’s stare, his voice tinged with concern. 

“Yeah, just thinking,” Lance says easily, before looking back down at his notebook.

This whole situation is going to come back and bite him in the ass; he just knows it. There are so many things he needs to keep track of and remember. Lance isn’t sure if he can do it. He doesn’t really think he’s built for it. It’s a lot of pressure. 

The fact that they’re only a few years away from one of the biggest fights of their lives leaves Lance feeling doubtful.

 Kerberos. Keith dropping out. Pidge infiltrating the Garrison. Shiro coming back to Earth. Finding the Blue Lion. Finding Allura and Coran. 

Lance is tempted to make a list, but he doesn’t want to put that kind of thing down on paper. It’s too risky.

The class eventually comes to a close, and Lance shoves his notebook back into his bag. This is going to be a long day. Actually, scratch that. This is going to be a long few years , and he’s not looking forward to it. 

He gets up from his seat and feels a tug on the sleeve of his jacket. He looks down at Keith who’s still sitting in his seat. 

“Hey, what’s your next class?”

Lance pretends to think. “I’m pretty sure it’s First-Aid. Why?”

Keith stands up and throws his bag over his shoulder. “That’s mine, too. Wanna walk there, together?”

Lance nods wordlessly, and they both walk out of the room. He wasn’t expecting Keith to be friendly. Lance figured he’d just talk with him as classmates and then ignore him outside of class. 

This is…nicer than what he was expecting. 

As it turns out, Keith and Lance share most of the same classes, and surprisingly, Keith chooses to sit next to Lance or at least somewhere near him in every one. He doesn’t talk much, but Keith in general has always been a quiet person around people he doesn’t know. 

Lance isn’t sure how to feel about this. 

A part of him is happy, but another part of him is worried because what exactly does this mean?

This is a change he wasn’t expecting. 

Changing classes is one thing because he did it of his own volition, but this? Was befriending Keith supposed to be easy? Was it always this easy, and he just never knew because he was in a different class?

The end of the day comes faster than Lance would’ve liked it to, and Lance finds himself outside of his dorm room with Keith right next to him. 

Keith raises his hand to wave goodbye and turns around to walk away when Lance calls out after him. “Hey.”

Keith looks back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I know we only just met today,” Lance starts, scratching the back of his neck. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, just know I’m your guy, okay, Mullet?”

Keith’s expression softens temporarily before hardening again. “Mullet? My name’s Keith.”

Lance resists the urge to smile. “I know that. Haven’t you ever heard of nicknames?”

Keith just frowns, squinting his eyes in suspicion. 

“Anyway,” Lance says with a cough. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Keith’s expression changes then to something that Lance can’t read. “Yeah. See ya tomorrow, Lance.”

Lance gives him one last smile before entering his dorm room and closing the door behind him. He throws his bag to the side and collapses onto his bed in a heap. 

He’s not sure what to make of today. He wants to make a concrete plan for what to do next, but he’s still not sure if this is all real. If it isn’t, it’s certainly the most lucid dream Lance has ever had. But if it is…he’ll need a plan. A solid one. 

Lance decides to worry about this tomorrow. If he wakes up back in his shack, then he’ll write this off and pretend it never happened. 

But if he does wake up in the morning, and he’s still in this dorm room, then he’ll have some decisions to make. He’ll need to make a plan, and he’ll need to do this right. He can’t afford to make the same mistakes he made last time. 

Lance sighs into his pillow and feels his eyes slowly start to droop. Tomorrow. 

He shuts his eyes. Tomorrow. 

He welcomes sleep. Tomorrow.

Chapter Text

When Lance wakes up to familiar glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, he smiles. 

He’s still at the Garrison. 

He honestly hoped he would be when he went to sleep the night before, but he wasn’t actually expecting his dream to come true. 

Lance gets up out of bed and tiptoes to the bathroom, being careful not to wake Hunk. He closes the door behind him, locks it, and turns towards the mirror, bracing himself. 

He finally relaxes when he sees that there are still no Altean marks on his face. 

Okay. Okay. Now, he has to figure out what to do next. 

He exits the bathroom and checks the time, sighing when he sees that it’s three o’clock again. Looks like he’ll have enough time to do the same things he did yesterday with some time to spare. 

So, like the day before, Lance sneaks out, grabs some donuts in town so he and Hunk can have breakfast, and sneaks back into the Garrison, all in the span of an hour. It honestly would have taken him less time than that if he ran there and back, but he’s young again now, okay? He has practically no endurance, no muscle definition, and he’s a lot more clumsy than he was before. He’s going to have to relearn some things if he wants to do this whole thing the right way this time around.

How fun.

Lance makes it back to his dorm room and closes the door quietly behind him, double-checking to make sure Hunk hasn’t woken up yet. 

Nope. Still snoring away.

He sets the box of donuts down on his desk and makes a beeline for the bathroom, ready to take a shower and determined to get all the sweat, grime, and dirt he got all over him on his morning walk. 

When he exits the bathroom a half-hour later, he stops at the sight of Hunk sitting up in bed, staring at Lance with a weird look. “Okay, seriously,” Hunk says. “Who the heck are you, and what have you done with Lance?”

Lance rolls his eyes, smiling. 

“I know, yesterday, you said new year, new me, and that’s fine, okay? I get it, but it’s still really weird.” Hunk gets up out of bed and stretches his arms over his head. “I appreciate the effort and all. I have no complaints. But in the several years I’ve known you, you’ve never been a morning person. So what’s your deal?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t have a deal. This is just the new me now, I guess.”

Hunk squints his eyes in suspicion. “That kind of change doesn’t happen overnight, buddy.” 

“It does for me,” Lance excuses. “Besides, I looked it up. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

Hunk doesn’t believe him. “Are you a bodysnatcher?”

Lance blinks. “No.”

“See, that’s exactly the kind of thing a bodysnatcher would say,” Hunk points out, making up his bed as he talks. Lance would be more inclined to take this whole conversation more seriously if Hunk didn’t have a gigantic stuffed dinosaur at the foot of his bed. He has to remember that Hunk is just joking around. He thinks, anyway. 

“I told Veronica it was a bad idea to lend you that movie,” Lance grumbles, crossing his arms. “You had nightmares about it for, like, three days, which is insane to me, by the way, since the movie wasn’t even that scary.” 

“You were there, too, Lance,” Hunk says. “You screamed just as loud as I did.”

Lance frowns. That’s not how he remembers it. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” Hunk argues. “Your mom even came into your room to check on you because of how loud you screamed.”

“No,” Lance denies. “I’m pretty sure it was you. Yeah, no, I don’t scream at horror movies. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re delusional. You’re—”

“—telling the truth,” Hunk cuts in. He raises his eyebrows, prepared for a rebuttal. Lance lets him have the win. 

“Anyway,” Lance says after clearing his throat. “Want breakfast?”

Hunk crosses his arms. “I see what you’re doing, changing the subject, Bodysnatcher,” He says. “But I’ll let it happen because I’m hungry.”

Lance shakes his head, exasperated. “I got donuts,” He offers, motioning towards the box of donuts on his desk. “Again.”

Hunk’s expression brightens. But then he tilts his head in confusion. “Is this going to be your new thing now? Going out for donuts every morning? You know we can just go after classes are out, right?”

Lance shakes his head. “All the good donuts are out by that time, though. It’s better to get there right after they open. That’s what my dad always told me.”

Hunk’s eyes widen with worry, and Lance sighs. He didn’t mean to bring up his dad. 

“Your dad?” Hunk repeats, his tone is casual, like they’re discussing the weather. He looks misty-eyed in a way that Lance doesn’t want to dig into or mention, so he simply shrugs. 

“Yeah,” Lance says. “Anyway, eat your breakfast.”

Hunk obliges, but he keeps giving Lance concerned looks when he thinks he isn’t paying attention. Lance appreciates the concern—really, he does—but now isn’t the time to dig into any childhood memories. He needs to think more before he talks.

Back then, in the previous timeline, this wound was still fresh, despite being a few years old. He needs to keep all that in mind for next time.

Hunk finishes his donut in record time, sensing the tense vibe, and dusts off his hands of any remaining crumbs. “I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he tells him. “Are you planning on going back to sleep, or…?”

Lance shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “I’ll probably just take some notes for this project I have due in a few days.” He rubs the back of his neck. Those words felt a bit odd coming out of his mouth. He almost sounded—gasp—responsible. 

Hunk hums in acknowledgment, but Lance swears he hears him mention something about bodysnatchers as soon as he enters the bathroom. 

Lance sighs. He needs to get better at playing the role of fifteen-year-old Lance because his best friend is starting to notice things. He doubts that Hunk would ever accuse him of being a time traveler, but if Hunk is bringing up the idea of bodysnatchers, then a time traveler accusation wouldn’t be too far off the mark. 

He sits down at his desk, pushing the donut box to the side. He picks up a book and immediately huffs at the fact that he’s doing this. He hopes that taking Aviation Theory will work out in the long run because right now, he just feels like he’s giving himself more work to do. He takes notes and tries to focus on the project. 

Hunk takes a bit longer in the shower than he usually does, but considering he got in at 4:15, he still has nearly three hours until classes start. He gets out around five.

“You can go back to sleep,” Lance says. “I’ll wake you.”

Hunk smiles but waves him off. “That’s alright. I wanted to work on something for Engineering, anyway.” He sits down at his own desk and gets to work, but Lance still can’t help feeling awkward.

He feels uneasy. Hunk knows something; he can tell from the wary looks Hunk keeps giving him from across the room. He just doesn’t know what. He couldn’t have clocked Lance this soon, right? Hunk is perceptive, but he wouldn’t jump to that conclusion, would he?

Before he knows it, the clock hits 6:40, and the two of them start gathering their things so they can head to class. Lance throws his bag over his shoulder and glances at Hunk, who, as it turns out, is looking right back. 

“Hey, Hunk,” Lance says. “About earlier…”

Hunk raises a hand in surrender. “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s still a rough topic for you. We can talk about it when you’re ready to, okay?”

Lance nods, feeling his own eyes get misty in a way he’ll never mention. “Thanks. I love you, you know that, right?”

Hunk grins. “I love you, too, man, even if you are acting like a bodysnatcher.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“It’s too early in the morning to get all sappy like this,” Hunk says, picking up his own bag. “We can get all in our feelings after classes are out. And you are acting like a body—”

“I’m never letting you watch that movie again,” Lance swears. ”If I had known that you’d act like this, accusing your best friend of such horrific things,” he goes on dramatically, “I would’ve never even considered it.”

Hunk just snickers.

When they exit their dorm room, they both go their separate ways, and Lance decides that everything will be okay. Hunk is making jokes. Hunk doesn’t suspect him at all. When they were younger, they used to joke around all the time to avoid actually talking about their feelings. This isn’t anything new. Everything will be fine.

Lance makes a mental note to never let Hunk watch any of the Back to the Future movies, just in case Hunk gets any ideas. He’s not completely sure why he doesn’t want Hunk to know that he’s from the future; he just has a bad feeling about it. There’s an emptiness in his chest at the very thought of someone knowing, and he doesn’t know what to think about it. 

He makes it to his classroom right as the bell rings and slides into his seat, sighing in relief. Keith is sitting in front of him, blearily reading through a textbook and taking notes. He looks worse for wear, and Lance silently wonders if Keith stayed up all night working on his part of the project. 

Lance wouldn’t have staked Keith as someone who cared about his grades, but maybe he’s just read him all wrong. He never really asked Keith about his time at the Garrison in the previous timeline, though that was mostly just due to the bitterness he felt at Keith not remembering who he was. Guess he learns something new every day. 

After a few minutes, Keith turns around in his seat, and Lance has to resist the urge to wince at the sight of him. Keith looks rough. His hair is unkempt, he has bags under his eyes, and he has that permanent scowl on his face that really only shows when he’s tired. Yeah, he definitely didn’t get any sleep last night.

“When’s the project due again? Do you remember?” He asks, his voice low and gritty.

“Friday,” Lance answers. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

Keith nods once. Then, without further explanation, he just plops his head on Lance’s desk and lets out a loud sigh. “I’m so tired,” He says, though his voice is muffled from the desk. 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“No,” Keith answers. “But not because I didn’t try. I was up all night thinking.”

Lance frowns. “About the project?”

There’s a pause like Keith is deciding what to say. “Yeah,” he says finally, though his voice sounds kind of funny. “I was up all night thinking about the project.”

Lance can tell he’s lying, but decides not to press. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Well, either way, you look rough.”

Keith grumbles quietly.

“I mean, did you even brush your hair this morning?” Lance asks, bringing up a hand to poke at him. “It’s full of knots.” 

It really isn’t. It’s shockingly soft and slightly tangled but knot-free. 

“Nuh-uh,” Keith protests weakly, softly batting at him. “I combed it.”

“Really?”

“With my fingers,” Keith clarifies. 

“Right,” Lance says, remaining skeptical. 

“I did!”

“I wasn’t disagreeing,” Lance says.

“No, but your voice sounded weird,” Keith points out. “Hey, we’re technically friends now, so you can’t be mean to me.”

“Friends make fun of each other all the time,” Lance says, trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest. Keith already considers him a friend.

Keith lifts his head up slowly and squints his eyes at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Lance answers, crossing his arms. 

“So, I have free rein to make fun of you now?” Keith asks, and Lance blinks.

“Uh, sure, I guess.”

“Good,” Keith says, nodding in satisfaction. “Because I’ve been holding a lot back.” He promptly turns around just as Mr. West walks into the room.

Lance has only a few brief seconds to feel offended before Mr. West starts the lesson. This isn’t awful, though. It’s been quite a while since he and Keith have bantered like this. After Allura, the teasing had died down to light-hearted jabs and jokes; nothing to write home about, really.

Even before that, the only teasing they really did to each other led to either a sparring session or a full-on fistfight, though the fistfights died down as quickly as they started, especially when Allura and Shiro got onto them at every opportunity to knock it the hell off. 

Lance resists the urge to smile at the reminder.

Mr. West begins his lesson, and Lance tries his best to concentrate, which he quickly discovers isn’t very hard to do. Mr. West’s a fun teacher, adding jokes and metaphors to further simplify things for students who seem to be having trouble. 

He doesn’t get frustrated, and he certainly doesn’t talk down to anyone. He’s a far cry from Iverson, that’s for damn sure.

I hope you can be saved, Lance thinks as he starts jotting down notes. He doesn’t know what circumstances will lead to saving Mr. West, but he’s going to try his best to figure it out. Whatever it takes.

Class ends way too soon, and suddenly, Keith is standing up, hiking his bag over his shoulder as he turns to look at Lance. His hair is neater, and he actually looks refreshed from the nap he took during class. “So, we should probably get together to work on the project, right?” He asks, sounding half-serious, half-hesitant, as if he isn’t sure of what he’s saying.

“Yeah, probably,” Lance answers. He’s not exactly eager to work on this assignment either, but he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. “Where and what time are you thinking?”

Keith considers this for a moment. “How about at that diner in town? I heard their milkshakes are pretty good,” he suggests. 

“Sounds fine to me,” Lance accepts. “How does five sound?”

Lance realizes as he goes through the rest of the day that befriending Keith is a lot easier now than it was before. Which is weird, because Lance assumed Keith would have been a lot more closed off at this age. At least, that’s what his first impression of him was back when they “first” first met. 

Who are you?

Ugh, it gives Lance a sense of nauseating embarrassment every time he thinks back on it now.

He goes through the motions with his other classes, completing his assignments with ease. He’s lucky. He’s already taken and passed these classes with flying colors the first time around. Lance knows what to expect now.

After classes get out, Lance shoots a quick text to Hunk, letting him know his plans and that he might be late getting back to the dorm later. 

He gets a rather swift reply and pulls his mouth into a grim line at what he’s been sent. 

hot date? ;))

Lance rolls his eyes and turns off his phone, not even wanting to dignify that with a response. 

One thirty-minute walk later, Lance makes it to the diner. He takes a seat at one of the booths and pulls out his notebook, writing a few things down. He’s trying to focus on the project and not on all of his conflicting feelings about this whole situation. Lance is pretty sure that the shock is starting to wear off and that the reality of the situation is really starting to dawn on him.

Is going back in time a good thing? What if this has major consequences? Sure, all big decisions surely have them, but this is really big. 

“What’s wrong with your face? You look like you just got told the world was ending,” Keith’s voice sounds from above, and Lance glances up to see Keith looking down at him, an unreadable expression across his face. 

“I just realized that this stuff’s actually kind of difficult,” Lance excuses, though he internally cringes at just how unconvincing he sounds.  

Keith scoffs, but his eyes are full of mirth as he sits down and gets out his own notebook. “I don’t get half of this stuff either, but we still gotta do it.” 

The two work on the project for hours, each going through four milkshakes and two sides of fries. “I’m so glad I’m not lactose-intolerant,” Lance breathes as he finishes his final milkshake.

He closes his notebook and sits back in the booth, trying to fight back the nauseating feeling that’s accumulated.

 “You were the one who challenged me to see who could drink their milkshake the fastest,” Keith grumbles, his head lying on the table. “Four times, might I add.”

“Only because we tied the first three times.”

Another grumble.

Lance sighs before sitting up and taking out his wallet. Their waitress had given them their check a few minutes ago and is probably anxiously waiting for them to leave. “I think we’ve studied enough for one day,” Lance says as he pulls out enough to pay their bill and give the waitress a hefty tip for dealing with their nonsense. 

“I’ll grab the bill next time,” Keith insists, his head still on the table, and Lance bites his tongue to stop himself from snickering at the sight.

 “It’s no big deal, man. Ready to head back?” Lance inquires light-heartedly. Keith raises his head and nods before getting up from the booth, albeit he is rather slow doing so. 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Keith says, his voice sounding a little reluctant, and Lance prays to whatever God there is that Keith does not throw up on him. 

They both walk back to the Garrison, turning what would usually be a thirty-minute walk into an hour walk. They don’t talk, save for a few jokes here and there that leave Keith groaning and Lance snickering to himself. 

Once they reach their dorms, Lance bids Keith a good night and heads toward his room. Keith almost looks like he wants to say something else, but smiles at Lance instead, wishing him the same.

Lance is, to put it bluntly, extremely befuddled. He wasn’t expecting Keith to act or talk to him like this. He was expecting a brooding, tortured Keith who told everyone to fuck off. Not this funny, competitive Keith, who smiles at Lance as if he’s a friend. 

Did Lance really befriend Keith on the second day of school? Lance knows he’s charming to some extent, but this is unreal. He wasn’t expecting Keith to act like this so soon. It took Keith years to open up like this the first time around. 

Then again, Lance also didn’t take the same classes as Keith the first time around either. Did such a seemingly small decision change how Keith acted around him?

Lance enters his dorm room and sighs at the excited look on Hunk’s face. He also does not remember Hunk being this interested in his life before.

“So, how was the date?” Hunk asks as he waggles his eyebrows, and Lance scoffs.

 “It wasn’t a date. This guy from class and I were working on a project for our first period,” Lance says, shrugging his shoulders as he sits down on his bed.

“What’s his name?” Hunk questions, his eyes filled with curiosity, and Lance exhales in exhaustion.

“Keith. We have the same first hour, and we both don’t like James Griffin, so…” 

Hunk’s eyes widen a little at this. “You mean the same Keith who punched James in the face? That Keith?” 

Lance looks at Hunk, taking a moment to process his words. “What do you mean Keith punched him in the face?” This is new information to him. Lance doesn’t like James for a few reasons, mostly because of his stupid hair and arrogance, but he didn’t think Keith disliked him that badly. He would have loved to have seen this. 

“During the summer classes, before you started, Keith beat James in the simulator, and James got all butthurt about it. He started teasing Keith, and Keith just… punched him. It’s kinda funny now that I think about it,” Hunk smiles for just a second before cooling his expression. 

Lance smiles back.

“Huh. He probably deserved it.”

Sleep still comes easily to Lance that night, and he’s going to remain forever grateful for that, but this time, it isn’t as dreamless as he’s expecting. 

Instead, he sees a scene of a butterfly fluttering its wings as it lands on a juniberry flower. It’s a beautiful blue color, the shade reminding Lance of Blue.

This thought catches Lance by surprise as he hadn’t genuinely thought about Blue in a long time. As soon as she and the other Lions flew off into the night sky, Lance couldn’t pay another thought to any of them. It hurt too much.  

When Lance wakes up, he’s filled with trepidation and is disappointed to see that it was yet again three in the morning. This is going to become a routine, isn’t it?

If Lance didn’t know any better, he would think he’s in a horror movie. He does his usual donut run and takes a shower when he comes back, glad to see that Hunk is still asleep when he exits the bathroom. Then again, Hunk is also wearing his headphones, probably assuming Lance would pull the same shit from the day before. 

Lance did, so Hunk’s assumption had been correct.

He eats his donut and puts the rest in his mini-fridge, opting just to eat and really think about his circumstances. 

This is really happening, isn’t it? Lance had gone to sleep in his shack and woke up in his dorm room at the Garrison. Has he seriously gone back in time to before everything happened? That means that Allura… is still alive?

Lance sits down on his bed, finishing off his donut in silence. If he truly thinks any more on this topic, he’s going to get an aneurysm. He decides to avoid his problems once again and thinks about other things, like his friends. 

Hunk and Keith are acting strange. Their behavior resembles their future selves more than the way Lance remembers them being. 

The first time around, Hunk was a fraidy cat, to put it in milder terms. He was shy and quiet but still very kind and goofy at times. His cooking was decent, but left a lot to be desired. It had taken Hunk two years to really master his craft of cooking and to really be enthusiastic about it. When he had first started his Cooking class, Hunk had complained about it for probably the better portion of their first year at the Garrison. When Lance had told him just to drop out and focus on something else, Hunk had insisted that he needed to learn to cook for himself, like it or not. 

This time, however, Hunk has not said one peep about his Cooking class, nothing good or bad. He seems almost indifferent about it, which is a win in Lance’s book, considering he greatly prefers indifference to complaining.

With Keith, it’s even more peculiar. The first time, Keith had been a very grumpy teenager who seemed to brood almost every time Lance saw him. It seemed like he was always that way, except with Shiro, of course. And Lance would never admit it to anyone, but he did try to make friends with Keith at first. It ended with Keith pretty much telling him to back the hell off, so that thought was quickly thrown out in exchange for an attempted rivalry. 

That was also thrown out.

This time, Keith is a lot easier to befriend and gives the impression that he’s a lot softer. He engaged in the small competition Lance challenged him to yesterday, and is kind. This Keith had a lot in common with the Keith Lance grew to know in the future. The whole situation is bizarre.

And with Shiro, Lance is still unsure since he hasn’t gotten the chance to have a real conversation with the man yet. The only odd thing about Shiro was that he had said his special line, “Patience yields focus” during his speech the other day. That line was usually reserved for Shiro himself, Keith, or, occasionally, the other paladins. Lance didn’t remember him saying that during any of his famous Garrison speeches.

Lance sighs. He doesn’t know what to do other than just live his life as normally as possible. Still, that would be kind of difficult considering he knows what happens in the future. But if he truly acknowledges and thinks about everything, the logic of it, he would spiral into a dark pit of thinking and stay there. 

He supposes he should play this by ear. 

Lance takes a glance at his sleeping best friend and vows to keep him safe. He vows to keep all of his friends and family safe, no matter what it takes. Especially Allura. He doesn’t know how he’s going to yet, but he’ll figure it out. Hopefully.

The boy gets up from his bed and makes it, looking down at it with envy. He would love to be sleeping right now and not fretting about what all this time-travel nonsense means, but unfortunately, his body won’t let him sleep. It’s like his body is wide awake, but his mind is the exact opposite. 

Is Lance going to just stay in this constant state of feeling mentally exhausted but not physically? Only time will tell.

Since today is a Saturday, Lance has the freedom to do whatever he wants. Usually, the Garrison opens the rec room, dining hall, and training deck on the cadets’ off days, so Lance has a menu of options for what he could do. But none of those sound appealing. 

Lance suddenly gets a bright idea. 

“Lance, are you sure he’s gonna be down for going with us? What if we just piss him off?” Hunk whispers as he and Lance sneak down the hallway. Lance feels partially bad for waking up Hunk this early, but his idea mostly outweighs his guilt. 

“He’s gonna wanna come. Nobody in their right mind passes up free food,” Lance says, his voice full of certainty.

Since Keith is most likely awake at this hour, considering that’s how he was back when they were all on the Castleship, Lance doesn’t doubt that Keith will already be up. Call it a gut feeling. 

Luckily, there are no guards or patrols to stop Lance and Hunk’s journey, so they make it to Keith’s room in one piece, leaving Hunk only slightly shaking like a leaf. Lance gently knocks on the door and isn’t surprised when Keith answers immediately. 

Keith’s eyes are wide, and his hair looks unbrushed. “What are you doing?” He whispers, sounding alarmed, and ushers the two of them into his room. Keith looks down either side of the hallway and closes the door. He turns around and leans against it, crossing his arms. Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Want to explain to me what you’re doing here at—” Keith looks over at his alarm clock, “five in the morning?” Keith’s tone is full of confusion. 

Hunk waves his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t look at me, this was Lance’s idea!” He exclaims, and Lance frowns.

“Wow.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to come with us to the 11/7 in town. I heard they got a discount on their hot dogs and a new flavor of Slurpees available. It’ll be my treat.” Lance hopes he comes off as persuasive. He probably sounds like a walking, talking advertisement.

Keith tilts his head, thinking about it. “Are you sure you want me to come along? I don’t think I’m exactly fun to talk to,” Keith says, his tone self-deprecating, and Lance shakes his head. He must be feeling a little uncertain because of Hunk being present.

 “I don’t think that, and I doubt Hunk does either,” Lance replies.

 Hunk nods in agreement. “Yeah, you seem like a cool dude.”

Keith’s eyes seem to light up at this, but his smile is still hesitant. “Fine, I’ll go. Though I’m a bit curious as to how the three of us are gonna sneak out of here?”

“Trust me, I have a plan.”

The said plan involves them just running through the hallways with sheets over their heads, hoping that no one sees them. The sheets are just a precaution to protect their identities in case they’re found.

Yeah, it isn’t Lance’s brightest idea, but Hunk and Keith aren’t exactly masters of stealth yet. For right now, he’s just going to wing it. 

When the three make it outside, both Hunk and Keith reprimand Lance for this plan, but there isn’t any harm in their tones. They just seem amused if their smiles are anything to go by. 

They make the walk, and Lance finds that the three have a bit more to talk about than he would’ve thought. Hunk and Keith talk about their shared classes, and Lance gladly listens, happy to see that his friends are getting along. 

This will probably make the team-bonding sessions go by a lot smoother, Lance thinks to himself. He thinks back to the butterfly he saw in his dream. How does that saying go again? 

The flap of a butterfly’s wings can cause a hurricane miles away.

The smallest decisions Lance could make could dramatically change the future. Jeez, no pressure or anything.

When the three make it to 11/7, Lance keeps his word and pays for Hunk and Keith, thankful for his parents' saving up money in his college fund. Luckily for Lance, he got a full ride at the Garrison thanks to his grades, so he didn’t need to use that money for school. His mom just decided to give him the funds directly before he went, telling him to spend them wisely.

Buying hot dogs and Slurpees probably wasn’t what she had in mind, but it’s okay. Making memories with his friends—his family—is far more important than money in Lance’s eyes.

Chapter Text

One Year Later

“Aren’t you glad that Shiro asked you to be his best man?” Hunk asks Keith, who is currently chowing down on a hot dog. Lance looks at him, stifling a laugh at the sight of Keith with his cheeks stuffed. He sort of reminds Lance of a hamster with its cheeks full.

Lance sips at his Slurpee, listening to the conversation play out, wrapping his head around the situation. He needs to hear it aloud a few more times to be real. 

Keith eventually finishes chewing and answers, his face twisting into a strange expression that Lance can’t decipher. “Yeah, it’s just weird that he asked a teenager and not one of his cadet friends, y’know?” Keith shrugs.

Lance finally takes the initiative to join the convo, his mind still reeling from the news they just got a few days ago. “Shiro sees you like a brother, Keith. You’re his family; he would want you in the wedding,” Lance says, trying to make his voice reassuring. Keith seems to like that answer, but doesn't respond right away.

Instead, he waits until they're on the way back to the Garrison to say anything else.

“It’s just weird. I thought the two of them would have waited a bit longer for the wedding, y’know?” Keith says, his voice sounding so confused and lost that it makes Lance’s chest hurt. He understands the confusion because this situation most certainly did not happen last time. 

Shiro and Adam are getting married. The wedding date is in December, and Shiro has asked Keith to be his best man. 

Lance’s mind is still reeling from this news. While Shiro did get married last time, it wasn’t before the Kerberos mission, and he certainly didn’t get married to Adam. This wedding is new territory, a new event that Lance isn’t familiar with, and he isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

It’s only a matter of time before the Garrison announces the Kerberos mission, and Shiro is getting married. Is this going to change Shiro’s mind about going on the mission? Did Lance fuck everything up already? He didn’t know if he did anything exactly to trigger this, but he’s blaming himself. Who else is there to blame?

“Yeah, I feel like they should’ve waited, too,” Hunk agrees, and Lance tries to smile, but he can't even convince himself. If only these two knew.

Last time, Adam and Shiro weren’t even engaged yet. This time, they’re planning a wedding. Last time, Shiro didn’t marry Adam. He married Curtis. This time, Curtis isn’t even in the picture. 

Did Lance being in Adam’s class somehow convince the happy couple to get married? Lance didn’t particularly remember saying anything to either of the two to hurry things along. 

“Shiro said it was because he didn’t wanna waste any time, whatever that means,” Keith says, causing Lance's thought spiral to continue. 

That does sound like a possibility. If Hunk and Keith have had inklings or feelings of what happened last time, why would it be different with Shiro?

Lance finds that thought incredibly depressing. 

“Well, either way, I’m happy for them! I’ve always wanted to attend a wedding!” Hunk exclaims excitedly, and Lance feels a genuine smile form. That’s right. He remembers Hunk saying the same thing last time when Shiro and Curtis had announced their engagement. 

Lance feels a tad guilty that Shiro and Curtis most likely wouldn’t get together this time. If Lance recalls, Curtis helped Shiro work with his grief about Adam as a friend first before they got romantic. Lance thought that was incredibly sweet and was happy that Shiro could move on from Adam’s death. Lance also felt jealous because he couldn’t get over Allura’s.

He needs to change the subject before he thinks too deeply about it. Lance would see Allura later and have plenty of time to think about it then. God, he’s not looking forward to that. Lance prefers ignoring his problems instead of facing them head-on. 

“I know, buddy. What are you guys gonna wear?” Lance asks as the Garrison comes into view. Ever since that night one year ago, they’ve gone out on the town, usually at the 11/7, always at five in the morning. Keith and Hunk claim he fucked up their sleep schedule, but he laughs it off every time they bring it up. Their sleep schedule is already going to be wildly fucked up when they get to space, so why should it matter now?

Lance thinks about the timeline while his friends ponder what to wear. 

Shiro and Adam’s wedding would be in December if he went by this timeline. Then, in February, the Garrison would announce the Kerberos mission, and they would be looking for the crew. If last time was anything to go by, Shiro took that job almost immediately, followed by Matt and his father. 

In this timeline, however, Lance doesn’t doubt that Shiro would second-guess going since he would be leaving his newlywed husband. Didn’t stop him when they were only fiancés, his brain spitefully supplies, and Lance sighs. He shouldn’t be going down that train of thought. These are his friends.

“What about you, Lance? You’d be the type of person to bring a tux, wouldn’t you?” Hunk’s voice snaps Lance out of his line of thinking, and he looks up. Both of them are looking at him expectantly.

He lets out a laugh. “I did, but it was fitted before I got my growth spurt,” Lance says truthfully, and the other boys exhale in disappointment. 

“Why don’t we rent tuxedos? They’re not as expensive as they used to be,” Lance suggests as the trio walks down the sidewalk.

 “Dude, haven’t you heard that story about how a lady rented a dress and died wearing it because it had embalming fluid on it?! That means that a dead person wore the dress!” Hunk vociferates exaggeratedly, and Lance rolls his eyes. That was such an old story; how could Hunk even still be thinking of that?

“Yeah, but we’re not gonna be renting dresses. We’ll be renting tuxedos. Unless you got something to tell us….” Lance teases, and Hunk proceeds to go on a whole rant about why they’re not renting tuxedos and that they’ll have to find another method. 

“Did Shiro issue a dress code yet? Do you know?” Lance questions Keith, and the latter shakes his head. “Cool. Do you think he’d mind if we were just to wear our uniforms? It’ll be a last resort if we can’t find anything else,” Lance proposes, and Keith nods.

“I don’t think he’d mind, but we need to try and find something decent to wear. I don’t think they have to be tuxedos exactly.”

This whole conversation is giving Lance a headache.

“Okay, Shiro just got back to me and said that button-ups and slacks will be fine for you guys,” Keith informs, and Hunk and Lance sigh in relief.

“What about you? I’m pretty sure the best man can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt,” Lance asks as he looks Keith up and down. That’s what Keith is currently wearing; Lance is surprised to see him in other clothing besides cropped jackets or armor. 

Keith looks almost embarrassed at the question. “Shiro said I could wear one of his old tuxes; he said it might fit me,” He admits, looking down at his feet. 

Lance feels a twinge of recognition at the sight of him. Keith, looking so sheepish, is an indicator that he is still a little bashful about Shiro considering Keith his brother. Lance decides to try and lighten the mood to keep Keith’s mind off things. If he tries to comfort Keith, he might lash out, and Lance does not want to deal with that right now.

“So are you going to put your mullet in a ponytail or…?”

“It’s not even long enough for that!” 

Hunk shrugs. “I don’t know, man. It’s at least long enough for a rat tail, y’know?” Hunk touches the back of Keith’s head, and Keith jerks away, squinting at both of them with annoyance.

“You could probably put it in a man bun,” Lance jokes, and Keith scoffs.

“Please leave my mullet alone,” Keith states calmly.

“So you finally admit it, huh?” 

“Admit what?”

“That you have a mullet.”

“You’re about to have a buzzcut if you don’t shut up.”

Jeering at Keith over his mullet seems to work, and an annoyed Keith is much better than an anxious Keith, at least to Lance. The three are currently sitting in their shared dorm room, going over assignments.

Lance had offered for Keith to sleep in their room after one too many nights out, and it became such a regular thing that Keith stayed there most nights. He even has a toothbrush there now. Hunk had been ecstatic at this turn of events because, “It’s like a sleepover, but every day!” Lance had a feeling that Hunk would like this, considering Hunk is one of the kindest people alive. And as much as Hunk doesn’t want to admit it, he gets lonely quickly. It helped to have another person here to stave off the unbearable loneliness and homesickness Hunk goes through.

Having Keith around made forming a study group easier, and it was also kind of fun. Lance never would’ve guessed, but Keith is kind of a nerd. He isn’t just book-smart, but he’s into conspiracy theories and old movies involving space wars. Star Wars is what Keith said it was. When Lance had told Keith that he had never watched the films, the latter had been in disbelief. 

That whole debacle ended in a movie marathon that lasted over a whole day with no sleep. It was a full day that consisted of energy drinks, sugar, and crankiness. Lance did have to admit, though, that the films were good. He just wasn’t sure if a passed-out Hunk was worth it. Having to deal with a sleep-deprived Keith was even worse.

“Does anybody have a bad feeling about this?”

Hunk’s question echoes in the once-quiet room, and Lance glances at him. “About the law of thermodynamics? I don’t like the subject either, buddy, but we gotta do it.”

Hunk rolls his eyes, and Lance snickers. 

“No, I mean about the wedding. Yes, I’m glad that Shiro and Adam are getting married - it’s about time - but seriously. Hasn’t this past year felt weird to you guys?” Hunk prompts, and Lance thinks long and hard about how to answer this. Over the past year or so, it had been evident that his friends knew something was off, but not to Lance's extent. 

Lance had considered telling them a few times when they once had an existential crisis about it; He needed to remind himself not ever to let them watch The Truman Show again. The two had kept Lance awake with their theories and conspiracies that he was starting to doubt himself. 

“I thought we were having fun,” Lance replies earnestly, and Hunk quirks his lips downwards.

“We have, but it’s like a feeling in my gut. If that makes sense, it feels more like deja vu,” Hunk supposes, and Keith nods in agreement.

Lance’s gut tells him that this conversation is a bad idea.

“That’s what it feels like for me, too,” Keith affirms, and Lance hums. He doesn’t interject, and the two don’t nag him about it. Lance is grateful that the interaction ends there. He’s going to tell them eventually. Just definitely not right now. And, of course, not before they find Voltron. 

A few months pass by, and the wedding plans are sailing smoothly and steadily. Lance is surprised that nothing has come to bite him in the ass yet for changing the timeline like this, but he isn’t complaining. It’s not like he had walked up to Shiro and ordered him to propose to Adam. That was all Shiro. What, is he supposed to insist that Shiro doesn’t go through with the wedding? He has no good reason to do so, logically. If he tells the truth…

Shiro, you can’t get married to Adam because you won’t want to go on the Kerberos mission. If you don’t go on the Kerberos mission, we won’t find out about the Galra, and we’ll probably never form Voltron.

Lance would be put on medication, no doubt about that. 

The wedding is in a few weeks, and Lance still isn’t sure what to make of this. The two grooms are running around like chickens with their heads cut off by what Keith has been saying. They are dealing with so many last-minute invitations and cancellations that it leaves their heads spinning. 

Lance can see it from the way Mr. West acts in class. The teacher doesn’t comb his hair as neatly, and his desk is in disarray. Lance can also see it in his teacher’s eyes. There is a lot of confusion and uncertainty, which are emotions you never want to see in someone who's about to get married. 

When he voices his concerns to his friends, they lightly brush them off, chalking it up to nerves. “They’re just stressed about the wedding. Once it’s over and vows are said, things’ll be a lot calmer,” Keith reassures, but Lance isn’t sure. “If you’re so worried, you and Hunk could tag along with Adam. He’s still trying to find some decent groomsmen who won’t bail on him,” Keith reasons, and Lance ponders this. Lance is better at talking people out of weddings rather than going through with them. 

When Lance was eleven, he had talked his brother Luis out of marrying his first girlfriend simply because she didn’t like dogs. Oh, there was also the fact that she cheated on Luis, but Lance didn’t find that relevant. Her not liking the family dog was an enormous red flag to Lance at the time. 

Hunk looks at Lance with an amused expression, and Lance recalls faintly that he had told this story to Hunk before. “That would be fine,” Lance agrees reluctantly, and Keith smirks.

“Shiro does like dogs, by the way, so good luck trying to talk Adam out of marrying him.”

“Hunk, you traitor!”

The wedding is today, and Lance is freaking out. So are Keith and Hunk, but Lance especially.

Lance is internally freaking out, anyway. Hunk and Keith, however, are very much freaking out externally.

 Keith is scrambling around, trying to find his tie, while Hunk looks for one of his shoes. Lance is ready, dressed up, and his hair combed, but his mind is a mess. 

He munches on a donut as he watches his friends scattered around the room, looking for things right in front of them. Might as well help, Lance thinks as he finishes his donut and dusts his hands off, standing up from his bed. 

“Keith, your tie is around your neck. Hunk, your shoe is under your bed,” Lance says calmly, watching as the two register his words and spring into action, grabbing their things.

“Dude, how are you so calm? The wedding is in three hours; that’s practically three minutes!” Hunk exclaims, shoving his foot into his shoe so violently that Lance winces.

“The key is to stay calm,” Lance says, raising his hands in a surrendering motion. “Take deep breaths and think happy thoughts.”

“You sound like a shrink,” Keith mutters, struggling with his tie. Lance rolls his eyes and walks up to Keith, batting Keith’s hands away.

“Let me,” Lance mumbles and does Keith’s tie, feeling his eyes on him. “I wish they would have gone with bow ties,” Lance says absentmindedly, remembering Shiro and Curtis’s wedding. Everybody wore clip-on bow ties, and it made life so much easier. 

Lance sighs as he finishes, turning away from Keith and picking up his phone. “Technically, we have three hours and thirteen minutes,” Lance corrects Hunk’s earlier statement as he checks the time on his phone.

“Semantics,” Hunk grumbles under his breath. 

“Look, we’re all dressed, and we’re ready. Now we just need to-”

There’s a knock at the door, and the dorm room goes quiet. 

“I’ll get it,” Lance says as he goes over to the door and is surprised to see who is behind the door when he opens it. “Shiro,” He voices, and Keith is suddenly beside Lance, asking Shiro what is wrong. 

“Just nerves, really,” Shiro insists, but his smile isn’t convincing. His eyebrows are quirked awkwardly, and his nervousness is written all over his face. It looks like Shiro might be having second thoughts about the wedding as well.

“Then why did you come here? We’re not supposed to meet for another hour,” Keith questions, his arms crossed, and Shiro twiddles his thumbs.

“I don’t know, honestly,” Shiro mutters, and Keith sighs. 

Lance distantly remembers Shiro’s wedding with Curtis and feels another shock of guilt. Keith was Shiro’s best man back then, too, and he had helped him with a simple pep talk. He had told him that it was okay to move on, that Adam would’ve wanted him to. Lance had ignored the pointed looks all his friends had given him when Keith had said that. 

Moving on isn’t that simple. 

He is about to back away and let Shiro talk when he hears another voice. “Lance!” 

Lance’s head pokes out of his room, and his eyes widen at the sight of Mr. West. He’s still in his PJs, his hair an unkempt mess, and Lance wants to facepalm so bad. He had been so invested in making sure Keith and Hunk got ready that he completely forgot about one of the grooms. 

“Mr. West, why aren’t you ready?” Lance reprimands, and the teacher dares to look embarrassed.

“Adam,” Shiro whispers, and Lance looks to see Shiro blushing. Lance had almost forgotten how lovesick someone could look. It almost makes him feel sick. Suddenly, someone throws a sheet over Shiro’s head.

“You guys aren’t supposed to see each other; it’ll jinx the wedding!” Hunk shouts, and Lance immediately knows that Hunk has thrown the sheet. Hunk is a stickler for these kinds of traditions.

“S-Sorry!” Shiro falters and turns away from the door, running into a wall. Keith exhales in disappointment before grabbing Shiro by the arm and leading him down the hallway. 

“You need to get ready!” Hunk orders and grabs both Mr. West and Lance by their arms and leads them in the opposite direction from Keith and Shiro. 

When they get to Mr. West’s room, they are surprised to see clothes thrown everywhere. The room is in utter chaos, and Mr. West looks embarrassed. “I neglect to clean when I’m stressed,” He shares, and Lance nods his head, relating. 

“We can worry about the mess later; right now, we need to get you ready,” Hunk assures and quickly starts rummaging through Mr. West’s closet. Mr. West sits down on his bed, clenching his fists tightly. He looks conflicted, and Lance can’t decide if he looks anxious or constipated.

“Mr. West, have you slept at all today?” Lance asks, and the teacher winces.

“Please just call me Adam outside of school hours. It’s already awkward enough that I have students as my groomsmen,” Adam says as he rubs his eyes tiredly. Hunk immediately starts throwing Adam’s clothes, some of which hit the man square in the face. 

“Hunk.” Lance grits out, and Hunk apologizes, although it doesn’t seem sincere. What is up with everyone today?

“Hunk, why don’t you get Adam some coffee, and I’ll help him get ready. Get you something to drink too,” Lance says as he digs a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and throws it at Hunk, who, as it turns out, does not appreciate having stuff thrown at his face.

Lance gives Hunk a look that makes Hunk relent, and the teenager steps out of the room. Adam lets out a relieved sigh, and Lance pats him on the shoulder. “Sorry, Hunk can be a little intense when he’s excited. Yours is the first wedding he’s going to.” 

That doesn’t make Adam feel better, and Lance curses himself. He is not good at cheering people up. 

Adam eventually gets up from his bed, picking up the clothes Hunk had thrown at him earlier, before stepping into his bathroom. Lance runs a hand through his hair, his thoughts scrambling all over. 

After a few minutes, Adam steps out, looking miserable. He walks up to a mirror he has in his room and starts trying to style his hair. Lance stays silent, waiting for the man to say something. Anything. 

“I thought my brother would be here at least,” Adam says finally, and Lance listens, meeting Adam’s eyes in the mirror. “He was the only one in my family who supported my relationship with Shiro. My mother said I should’ve found a good Christian girl to settle down with, but….”

Lance narrows his eyes at this. Even in this day and age, there are still people who can’t mind their own damn business. Lance can’t say he’s surprised, but still, it’s ridiculous. 

“My brother, Samuel, is a missionary, and he’s currently in another country helping people. I know it’s selfish to think, but I wish he were here with me instead. So he could kick my ass down the aisle to marry the man I love, and so he could tell me to stop wasting time. So he could reassure me that I’m making the right decision to marry Shiro,” Adam vents, and Lance finds that listening is so much easier than talking. He doesn’t know what to say.

Adam finishes styling his hair and starts messing with his tie, looking away from the mirror. “Damn it,” Adam curses, his voice cracking, and Lance quickly gets up to help. Adam’s hands are wiping at his face, and Lance does his tie, trying not to say anything that invalidates Adam’s feelings. Maybe he needs to ask questions instead of providing answers.

“Are you doubting marrying Shiro, or are you doubting having a wedding this soon?” Lance finally questions, and Adam stops.

“I love Shiro,” Adam states, and Lance nods.

“I don’t doubt that. But do you want to marry him?”

Adam looks at Lance for a time, afraid to answer the question. “It’s okay. I'm not the judgy type,” Lance reassures, and Adam looks down.

“I do want to marry him. It just feels too soon. I wanted to have an April wedding, y’know? It would be just in time for our anniversary, but he’s rushing things. It’s like he knows something I don’t.”

Lance is going to be sick. Is this how it’s going to be with everyone who had died in the previous timeline? Would they have good intuition about these kinds of things? 

“So, what do you want to do?” Lance asks, and Adam cocks an eyebrow. “Do you want to go on with the wedding, or do you wanna run?” Lance clarifies, and Adam’s eyes widen.

“I don’t know about running,” Adam stumbles over his words, and Lance sighs and looks at his phone.

“Look, you got two and a half hours to decide what you want to do. That’ll be plenty of time to decide.” 

He motions for Adam to put on his shoes, and the man does so, giving Lance a weird look. 

“We’re going to get Slurpees.” 

The two exit Adam’s room and run into Hunk, who is carrying two cans of coffee. He looks frazzled, and Lance fills him in on the situation. Hunk quickly hops on board, and the three damn near sprint to Adam’s car, with Lance getting the driver’s seat. “Don’t crash my car, please,” Adam says exasperatedly, and Lance smiles proudly.

“Ye of little faith, dude. I got this,” Lance brags, and he flashes his driver’s license.

If there is one good thing about going back in time, it’s that he could retake his damn driver’s license picture. Thank the universe for small favors. 

Hunk groans and sits back in his seat, muttering something about getting car sick.

After about a five-minute drive, the three stand in the 11/7, each making themselves a Slurpee. “How is this supposed to help?” Adam asks, but Lance shushes him.

“Trust the process. Slurpees save souls. Just drink it and forget about the wedding drama for right now.”

Adam does as he’s told, grumbling about being told what to do by teenagers. “Ooh, they got a two-for-one special on hot dogs today,” Lance observes, and Adam sighs.

“What am I doing?” 

“Thinking about the two-for-one special?” Hunk offers, and Adam shakes his head.

“No, why am I here? Why are Shiro and I getting married so soon? Shiro knows, but shouldn’t I know? Especially on our wedding day?” 

Lance sips at his Slurpee. “Probably,” He shrugs, and Hunk’s eyes widen.

“Lance," He says, exasperated, elbowing Lance gently. 

The silence goes on between the three of them, and it’s the most awkward silence Lance has ever had to go through. 

“Let’s play True or False. I’ll make a statement, and you say one or the other, okay?” Lance says, and Adam agrees, nodding his head wordlessly. 

“You love Shiro.” 

“True.”

“You want to marry Shiro.”

“True.” 

“You think Shiro is rushing things.” 

Adam thinks a bit before responding. “True.”

“Dang, Lance. At least ask a few questions with some variety.” 

“Not now, Hunk.”

A half-hour later, the three are sitting in Adam’s car, sipping their Slurpees in silence. Their short-lived game in the convenience store had quickly gone nowhere, so Lance decided to just pay for their stuff and have them all sit in the car. Being out in public probably wasn't doing Adam any favors, either. Lance leans back in the driver's seat, taking a sip of his Slurpee and giving Adam a concerned look.

“Is it just that it’s rushed that’s making you have doubts?” Lance asks, and Adam thinks for a bit before responding.

“Yeah, I think that’s the only issue,” He replies, and Lance nods. 

“Look, rushing isn’t always a bad thing. Keith said that Shiro wanted to marry you because he didn’t want to waste any time.” Adam and Hunk are staring at him quizzically, and Lance realizes he’s getting nowhere.

“My point is that people die all the time. People go missing. People say things they shouldn’t, and people get abducted by aliens.” This sentence earns him two confused stares. It would all make sense later.

“Most of those times, people never say what they really mean. They waste precious time they could be using to spend with their loved ones, and it’s unfair. So yeah, I think you should get married. I believe it’s important to take the time to tell the people you love how you feel about them while they’re here. There are so many bad things that can happen that'll be out of your control."

Allura turning away from Lance flashes through his mind, and he feels his eyes begin to water. He can’t think about that right now. 

Hunk, fortunately, can sense the mood change. “Wow, Lance. When did you get so mature and philosophical?” 

Lance laughs a little before shrugging. “I don’t know. Adam, you can take my advice or do what you want. But, whatever you decide, I’ll support you one hundred percent.”

Hunk nods in agreement, and Adam smiles for the first time all day. 

Adam’s eyes seem to twinkle, and Lance knows that Adam has made his choice.

“I guess I’m getting married, then.” 

Rushing Adam to the venue is imperative, considering they’re running late. Hunk and Adam are currently in the back seat of the car, with Hunk aggressively recombing Adam’s hair repeatedly, becoming unsatisfied with each rake of the comb. “Careful, Hunk. If you keep doing that, he won’t have any hair left to comb.”

“Sorry,” Hunk apologizes, his tone more sincere than earlier, and Adam smiles.

“It’s okay. Wow, I’m feeling really nervous now,” Adam says, and he clutches the passenger-side door. “I’m not that bad of a driver, dude. And besides, pre-wedding jitters are normal. Once you and Shiro get through this, you’ll want to rub your lovey-dovey couple vibes all over everyone,” Lance tries to reassure, but he can’t stop his tone from sounding somewhat bitter. 

Both passengers give him looks but say nothing, opting for more awkward silence. “You seem weird today, Lance,” Hunk murmurs, and Lance sighs. 

“Like I said, pre-wedding jitters.”

Shiro and Curtis’s wedding was beautiful, with Pidge throwing flower petals every which way and the sun setting at just the right time that it cast a gorgeous, golden glow over the couple. Lance didn’t know Curtis all too well, but he knew that he had helped Shiro during a hard time, which was enough in Lance’s book.

“You okay?” A deeper voice asked, and Lance looked to his left to see Keith, whose eyebrows narrowed in concern.

“Yeah. I was just admiring the happy couple, y’know? It’s been a while since I’ve seen Shiro so happy.”

Keith’s smile reflected Lance’s. “Yeah, me too. Curtis is good for him,” Keith said, his tone so full of honesty and assurance that it made Lance hopeful. He was hopeful that he could eventually move on from Allura. He just didn’t know when, exactly, that would occur. “Did you know Curtis actually asked for my blessing? It’s an old tradition from what Hunk said, but I still thought it was sweet.” 

“Yeah, my sister-in-law asked for mine and my family’s, too. The small things show you they care about what you think. I didn’t think it was necessary until she asked, but I’m grateful she did,” Lance said, and Keith looked surprised that Lance had shared something personal. 

“Yeah,” Keith responded mindlessly. Lance observed the happy couple dancing and whispering into each other’s ears. The sight made him happy and nauseous at the same time, and he felt guilty for feeling the latter. 

“Aren’t you going to dance?” Keith asked, and Lance looked down at his hands.

“I would need a partner for that,” He replied, his hands starting to feel sweaty. Keith did not seem to get the hint.

“There are plenty here to choose from. I’m sure anyone would be happy to dance with you, Lance.” 

The way Keith said his name made Lance look up at him. Keith was tall, grizzled, and older than when Lance first met him. His hair was longer now, to where he had to put his hair in a low ponytail, and he was looking at Lance with an expression that he couldn’t read. 

Lance was never good at reading people’s expressions. 

“No need to flatter me, Keith. Besides, I suck at dancing. I want to check out the buffet table instead,” Lance excused himself, and Keith’s eyes widened in surprise. Lance gave him a mischievous grin. “Want to go check it out with me?”

“I would be happy to.”

Adam and Shiro’s wedding is small, with fewer people present than Lance had expected, but that seems to relieve Adam. He isn't a fan of crowds. 

Lance and Hunk are currently arguing about who is supposed to go first at the entrance. Shiro is already standing at the altar, a worried yet hopeful expression on his face. “I think we missed the signal,” Hunk hisses, and Adam sighs.

“Just go, someone!” 

Hunk starts his march down the aisle, and Lance turns back to Adam, giving him a comforting smile. “He’s only a few feet away,” Lance reminds Adam, who beams in response.

“I know.”

Lance follows behind Hunk, happy to see that Shiro is free of doubts now. Keith is at Shiro’s side; his presence seems almost threatening. His expression screams, If you talked Adam out of the wedding, I will come for you in your sleep.

Thankfully, Lance is off the hook, though it was pretty shifty there for a moment or two.

The wedding goes smoothly without interruption, and the two get married. It’s a beautiful ceremony that leaves Hunk crying happy tears, blowing bubbles all around the happy couple. 

The couple dancing really hits the nail in the coffin. Shiro and Adam are married now. Husbands. Spouses. Family. 

Wow, Lance is not expecting himself to cry. “Didn’t peg you for a happy crier,” Keith says, his voice amused, and Lance keeps quiet. These aren’t necessarily happy tears. 

Shiro and Curtis dancing together is a fading memory now. No golden sunset, no flower petals being thrown over their heads. Lance quietly mourns the Shiro and Curtis of the previous timeline, repeatedly apologizing to them in his head. Maybe they can still be friends? A voice helpfully supplies, but it’s no use. 

Shiro and Curtis getting married is a distant memory. Lance wants to say he feels happy for Shiro and Adam, and he mostly does. But a small part of him can’t help but mourn Shiro and Curtis. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a familiar head of hair, and his tears stop. There sits Curtis, smiling at the happy couple with no trace of sadness or heartbreak in his eyes. 

Right. Lance is the only one who remembers the previous wedding; the others only had faint feelings. 

His acting like this would draw attention. Lance takes a tissue offered by Keith and wipes his eyes. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think I was a happy crier, either.”

Chapter Text

It’s currently February, two months after the wedding, and Lance can feel dread vibrating through every bone in his body. 

The Garrison is set to announce the Kerberos mission any day now, and Lance feels awful. 

He doesn’t know what this means for Shiro, Adam, or Voltron. Pidge, too, considering two members of her family are destined to go. Lance has no way to prevent it, considering he’s only a teenager. He would be thrown into the therapist’s office if he said anything out of line.

If he could, Lance would go in Shiro’s place. But, hence his age and inexperience with the flight simulator, that is impossible, not to mention illegal, if he even got the Garrison to humor him. Shiro is the only one who can do this. However, this thought does nothing to reassure Lance. 

Shiro would lose his arm and be forced into a Galra arena to fight and kill for a year. There is very little Lance can do to stop this turn of events unless Shiro just decides not to go. But, considering how stubborn Shiro can be at times, Lance doubts that happening. 

“Lance, look what’s on TV!” Hunk’s voice brings Lance out of his mind and back to the present, listening to his friend’s instructions. Iverson and Admiral Sanda -bitch- are on the screen, announcing the Kerberos mission with smiling faces. 

If only they knew. 

Like Lance predicted, Shiro insisted that he would go, which led to a full-blown argument that now sounds through the Garrison’s thin walls. Adam is very much not happy with this. Who would be?

“It’s horrible listening to this,” Keith comments, sitting on Lance’s bed. He’s hugging a pillow, listening to the argument with guilty ears.

“I know,” Lance replies, leaning against the door of their room. The not-so-happy couple is arguing in every room: the dining hall, their shared quarters, the bathrooms, and the hallways. No matter where they are, they would always be in someone’s earshot. If Lance didn't know them, he would think they were being inconsiderate, but truthfully speaking, they probably didn't know that the walls were that thin.

“Seems like we were at their wedding only yesterday,” Hunk says softly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I don’t get why Adam’s so pissed. Shiro will only be gone for a few months,” Keith gripes.

Then, as if Adam had heard him, “What about your illness?!”

Keith immediately goes silent, his expression implying that he’s starting to see Adam’s side. This whole situation is terrible. 

“Takashi, how important am I to you?” Adam’s voice comes through, quieter this time, and it feels like the whole Garrison goes silent. There are a few more words said that are too hushed to understand, and Lance feels tired. He didn’t even hear Shiro and Adam’s argument last time, didn’t even know it happened. 

Is this what people who have divorced parents go through? Because if so, Lance feels so much respect for them. 

“I can’t go through this again,” Adam’s voice sounds cracked when he expresses this, and Hunk looks like he could cry. Lance feels like crying, too, considering Adam has gone through this before. 

“I know I can’t stop you,” Adam says finally. “But, if you decide to go, just know….” Adam’s voice trails off, and it seems like that sentence would end with something very hurtful being said. 

“Through better or worse, I’ll still love you.”

The conversation ends there, and Lance is eternally grateful for that. 

“That argument could’ve ended very badly,” Hunk observes, though Lance can tell he is obviously relieved, and Keith and Lance sigh in unison.

“Yeah, it certainly could’ve,” Lance agrees and thinks distantly of a time when Shiro said he had someone back on Earth waiting for him. Shiro had implied back then that they didn’t part on the best of terms. 

Lance has a feeling that the argument they just had was supposed to end on a very different note. Nevertheless, he is grateful that nothing truly horrible was said. Lance can tell that his two friends are still thinking about it, so he offers an idea. 

“Let’s go get Slurpees,” He suggests.

“We usually go on Saturdays, though,” Hunk replies, but he gets his shoes anyway.

Lance shrugs. “So?”

Lance starts to make their weekly Slurpee run more of a daily thing despite his friends' insincere protests. He knows that Shiro going missing on the Kerberos mission will hurt Keith terribly, so he wants Keith to see that he has people there for him in his corner.

However, Keith is the one who originally found the Blue Lion, and Lance knows that eventually, Keith will leave. That isn’t a reassuring thought, so he wants to make sure that Keith leaves on a better note rather than getting expelled. Maybe Lance can convince Keith to take a break instead of dropping out? Urge him to take a vacation in the desert?

June comes too soon, which means that the Kerberos mission is about to launch, and Lance can tell there are a lot of uneasy vibes going around. Keith seems quieter and subdued, which is a recipe for disaster if he is to be left unattended. 

Lance had suggested to Keith that he talk to Shiro before he left, but that only got him a dirty look in return, so Lance backed off. Keith had grown a bit pushier these days and had started acting like the emo teenager he had been before. For some reason, that makes Lance feel a bit sad. It’s beginning to feel like Keith is just out of his reach.

Hunk has started baking more, which means that he’s stressed, and Lance knows that Shiro's leaving would also take its toll on Hunk. When Hunk and Lance had first met in middle school, they had bonded over their idolization of Shiro, who had started breaking records and taking names at the time. Shiro seemed unstoppable, and Lance and Hunk wanted to be just like him.

Lance still wants to be like him, but not to the degree he wanted to be before. His childlike optimism is gone, and his knowledge of the future is clouding his judgment. Hunk, however, is still very much idolizing Shiro, and whenever he isn’t baking, he’s ranting to Lance and Keith about Shiro. 

These conversations would end with Keith leaving the room and Hunk going to his Cooking class to stress-bake. And Lance would be alone, silently pondering what he was doing and how he would handle this. If Shiro's disappearance puts Hunk and Keith at odds, that would make forming Voltron more difficult in the future, wouldn’t it? Plus, Lance hates when his friends fight or start ignoring each other. It reminds him too much of home, where he had to be the mediator for his sisters for often than not.

Lance wanted to feel guilty for not visiting his family lately, but he knew that his mother would immediately know something was wrong if he went back. She was too perceptive, and that trait, unluckily, got passed down to all the women in the family. His twin sister Rachel and his older sister Veronica would know something is wrong as soon as he walked in the front door. As much as he loves them, he doesn’t feel ready to be badgered. But he would visit them before he left. He would be gone for a while, and Lance couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye.

“Lance, we need to talk.”

Lance looked up from the book he was reading and saw Hunk standing in his doorway, fiddling with his fingers like he didn’t know what to do. Lance set his book aside, sitting up in his bed. “Sure, what’s up, buddy?”

Hunk took this as an invitation and stepped into Lance’s room. The door automatically closed behind him, and Hunk shuffled his feet. A few seconds of silence passed, and Lance waited for Hunk to speak. “I was wondering how you were doing with Keith being gone.”

Oh. That’s what this was about. 

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lance shrugged, and Hunk rolled his eyes.

“That’s the most cliche thing you can say when you’re not okay. You’ve been spacey lately, and I’m worried. When Keith was here, you’d banter and talk everyone’s ears off. Now that he’s gone, you’re quieter, and you've been miserable like you don’t want to be here.”

Well, everything Hunk said was right, as usual. Lance couldn’t find it in himself to honestly be surprised. Hunk was always good at reading Lance, as they had known each other since grade school. He needed to come up with an excuse to get Hunk off his ass. 

“It’s just weird not seeing Mullet around anymore, y’know? He was a constant presence here, and now he’s not. That kind of thing takes some getting used to,” Lance replied, but he could tell that Hunk wasn’t buying this excuse. 

“I thought you would’ve been glad seeing him gone, considering you hated him,” Hunk observed, and Lance suddenly stood up from his bed.

“I don’t hate him! I never did! I just said those things because-” Lance cut himself off at the look on Hunk’s face and closed his mouth into a grim line. Hunk looked almost proud of himself, like he was happy he got something right. 

Lance usually felt relief at seeing that expression on his friend’s face, but right now, he felt resentment. And he hated feeling that towards his friend, his best friend in the universe, his brother, and he felt guilt. He should be honest, and Lance should just tell Hunk what’s bothering him, but…

“Hunk, I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Why don’t you go and create a new machine with Pidge or something? I want to be by myself right now.”

Hunk looked like he wanted to apologize, but Lance didn’t give him that satisfaction, opting to walk out of his room instead, leaving Hunk calling after him.

The crew that went on the Kerberos mission has been declared missing, and they are announcing it on TV. The frowns and grim looks on their faces contrasted so much with the proud, happy expressions they were wearing just a few months ago. 

Lance remembers this hurting the first time around, but certainly not this bad. This pain is more prominent, biting and tearing into him so severely that he feels like he can’t breathe. Shiro, his leader and friend, has gone missing, yet again, along with Matt and Samuel Holt.

This whole series of events of Lance going back in time never really felt real until now. This is really happening, isn’t it?

Lance hears a sharp, rapid knock at his dorm room door, and he instantly knows who it is. Hunk is in town, gathering snacks for a movie night, and Keith had said he was going to change his clothes before coming over. 

Keith must’ve heard the news already. Lance gets up from his bed and hurries to the door, opening it to find a haggard Keith. He hasn’t changed out of his Garrison uniform, and his hair looks like it's been run through with a hand dozens of times. 

“They can’t find him, Lance. H-he’s gone,” Keith stammers, looking on the verge of tears. Lance quickly tugs Keith forward into the room and closes the door behind them. He leads Keith over to his bed and turns off the TV.

“I know.”

“Adam was right. He shouldn’t have gone on the mission. Adam said he knew something terrible would happen, and it did. What am I- how am I- what are they-” Keith splutters, and Lance puts a hand over Keith’s mouth.

Lance has been through this type of pain before, so he knows how Keith feels. “I know it hurts, Keith. Let it out. I won’t say anything,” Lance says quietly, his voice a soft murmur that echoes through the small, silent room. He gently removes his hand from Keith’s mouth, awaiting any response at all.

Keith doesn’t let out a loud cry or scream or yell. He just sniffles and wipes his face, taking shaky breaths. Lance sits down next to Keith, not saying a word. He has no idea how Keith handled this last time or if he even let himself grieve. Either way, Lance is here now, and he’ll help as much as possible.

Lance and Keith sit on his bed, Keith sniffling a bit here and there, and Lance just feels numb. This whole situation didn’t feel real before the wedding. The wedding made Lance more aware of what was to come, but Shiro’s disappearance is the actual wake-up call. 

This pain is very much real. 

After a few minutes of silence, Hunk bursts into the room, not carrying any of the snacks he promised to buy. His eyes are full of tears, and Lance knows that this could potentially worsen the situation. Lance watches Hunk cautiously, waiting to step in if it’s needed. Hunk could be overbearing at times. 

However, instead of jumping at Keith and forcing him into a hug, Hunk does something Lance doesn't expect. He sits down on the other side of Keith and wraps his arms around Keith gently, like he would scare him away if he moved too fast. Keith lets himself get maneuvered until his head rests on Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk is giving Keith a solid side hug, and the sight of it makes Lance feel awful. 

He had been subjected to the hug, too, after Allura. And Lance himself had given Hunk one after Hunk’s grandmother had passed. The side hug is reserved for people who are grieving and are too depressed to move or think. It’s the one hug that, while it feels nice, Lance hates seeing.

Keith ends up staying in their room full-time, but he’s never the same. Everything Lance knows tells him that Keith and Shiro will eventually reunite and that this isn’t permanent, but it isn’t enough because they have to wait a whole year before that would happen. 

Lance has to find out the hard way that Keith is a lot more self-destructive than he expected. Their almost daily Slurpee runs turned into them playing hide-and-seek, with Lance and Hunk the seekers and Keith the hider. 

The game became worse when Keith decided to drink. Lance didn’t know how Keith could’ve possibly gotten a hold of alcohol, but he had, and he was drunk almost every time they went out to find him. 

Did Keith go through this last time, or did Lance screw something else up?

“We need to stage an intervention or something, man. This whole situation isn’t right,” Hunk says seriously one night, and Lance agrees. So one night, after they get Keith home, they order a very drunk Keith to show them where all the booze was, and he relents grouchily, showing off to them a concernedly large stash of liquor.

Lance and Hunk had enlisted Adam to help confiscate it, as he was the only adult at the Garrison who wouldn’t snitch on Keith for drinking, and they got to work on sobering Keith up.

Adam is dealing with the disappearance better than Keith is, but he is very clearly depressed. Just because he didn’t get involved with drinking or drugs like Keith did doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting. Seeing Keith going through this took a toll on Adam, but he still offered to help. 

So, Lance asked Adam to excuse him and Keith for a week so that he could help Keith with his withdrawals. Adam and Hunk seemed disturbed by Lance’s calmness, but Adam eventually agreed. Hunk looked like he was going to cry the whole time, and Lance, honestly, didn’t know what he was doing. 

Now, while Hunk goes to class, as usual, Lance deals with a very snarky, anxiety-ridden Keith, who seems to vomit every ten minutes and calls Lance very hurtful names. Lance doesn’t take it personally, but wow. He hasn’t seen Keith act like this in a while.

 It reminds him of when the paladins were stranded in space, held together only by their own hands. Keith and Lance had said mean things, Lance to Keith, and Keith to Hunk and Allura. But there was one line Lance regretted saying right now, the one that always stuck in his mind. 

“Keith, you ran away. Maybe you should’ve just stayed away.”

He feels his mind wanting to conjure up that moment, that specific memory, but he pushes that urge away. Now is definitely not the time. 

“Lance, just fuck off and leave me alone,” Keith grounds out, but he isn’t very intimidating as his voice is shaky, and the boy himself is covered in sweat. 

“Dude, chill out and drink some water,” Lance sighs, handing Keith a water bottle. Now, Lance knows that an alcoholic going through withdrawal can be unpredictable, and he expected that.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is Keith opening the water bottle and splashing water all over Lance.  

This is going to be a long week. 

“Dude, just do your stretches,” Lance urges, pushing Keith out of bed.

“Just because you read something online doesn’t mean it works,” Keith replies grumpily,  but relents anyway and sits cross-legged on the floor. He starts stretching his arms, and Lance sighs in relief.

“Look, man. I was desperate. And it looks to be working for you just fine,” Lance comments, watching Keith’s ears turn bright red in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” Keith mumbles, opting to stretch his legs next. 

Lance is glad to see that Keith’s skin has turned back to an even color, as the alcohol had made his skin appear paler than usual. Keith’s attitude is definitely better, also, which is always a plus. 

When Keith is done stretching, he looks at Lance expectedly, and Lance reluctantly hands him a bottle of water. Thankfully, Keith doesn’t splash water on him this time. 

“How are you feeling?” Lance asks, and Keith scoffs in response.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked me that in the past hour. I’m fine.”

Wow, now he understands how Hunk felt. “You’ve had that same answer so many times; it doesn’t even sound normal. Can you give me a wordier answer?” 

Keith takes a sip from his water bottle and looks at him thoughtfully. “I do not feel the insane urge to drink myself under the table. There, that better?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yes, actually.”

Keith takes the initiative and throws an empty water bottle that hits Lance square in the face.

“Dude, do you wanna fight right now? Because I’m not biting,” Lance says as he crosses his arms, giving Keith a disapproving look. Keith looks bitter at this and turns away, crossing his arms as well. 

The past few days, Keith has been trying to pick fights with Lance as if he wanted something, or someone, to take his anger out on. See, a younger, more immature Lance would’ve taken the bait, but he isn’t that Lance anymore. He’s mentally older than Keith is at this point, and Lance knows better. He knows this is how Keith gets through things like this, and going through a withdrawal period certainly doesn't help matters. 

So, Lance decides he needs to take Keith’s mind off things.

“Wanna order pizza?” Lance asks, picking up his phone, and Keith looks up at him silently, giving the smallest of nods. 

“Okay, what kind of toppings do you want?” Lance questions as he dials the number of a decent pizza place. 

“Anchovies.”

A pause.

“Please tell me you are joking, dude.”

“Why would I be joking? I fucking love anchovies.”

“Any other toppings for your abomination of a pizza?”

“Could you ask them to put pineapple on it?”

More silence.

“Now listen here, asshole-”

After Keith impressively eats the whole anchovy-pineapple pizza by himself, he promptly passes out. Hunk comes back to the dorm room shortly after that, asking why their dorm room smells like anchovies. Unlike Lance, Hunk actually seems curious about the combination of anchovies and pineapples and sincerely asks Lance to save him a slice next time.

Lance retorts that they will never order such an abomination of a pizza ever again, which results in Hunk laughing him off. Never again.

“I’m glad you find me being miserable to be such a laughing matter,” Lance says, a fake bitterness to his voice, and Hunk stops, giving Lance a strange look. This look evolves into a thousand-yard stare, and Lance snaps twice in front of Hunk’s face after a few moments. “You okay, buddy? You just spaced out. You do know I’m just being dramatic, right?”

Hunk shakes his head, and he scrunches his nose in confusion. “Just had a weird feeling, I guess. Kind of like deja vu? It’s nothing,” Hunk dismisses, rubbing the back of his neck, and Lance quirks an eyebrow. Then he realizes.

He had said that exact sentence a few years after Allura had…

“Come on, buddy! You need to get out and have some fun! Going dancing for one night won’t kill you,” Hunk insisted as he pulled Lance along with him. 

Ever since Hunk had become an ambassador, he got a significant confidence boost, and Lance would be lying if he didn’t say it was refreshing. “Fine, just one night. Is anyone else going to be there?” Lance inquired and wasn’t surprised to find that he didn’t care about the answer. He was just trying to fill the silence and didn’t care about what Hunk’s response would be. 

He wanted to feel guilty for his indifference, but he couldn’t even muster that emotion. Lance was tired of pretending to be excited about things he didn’t care for. He just needed to behave for tonight, and then he could go back to his little house and live in solitude. 

Lance also wasn’t stupid. Today was his birthday, and he knew that Hunk could possibly be throwing a surprise party for him. Either that, or he really was just taking Lance out for a night of dancing. Either way, Lance would much rather be at home. 

When they eventually entered the club Hunk had been gushing about, Lance wasn’t shocked to see a banner posted reading Happy Birthday, Lance!

He couldn’t bring himself to fake a smile or force an appreciative phrase out of his mouth. All he could do was stand and stare at his group of friends who had worked so hard on that banner and the decorations around the room. They all looked so elaborate and beautiful, and Lance couldn’t bring himself to appreciate them or his friends. He hated himself for that.

“I told you he wouldn’t like it,” Keith’s voice remarked, and Lance heard a heavy sigh. “It was worth a shot.”

Lance crossed his arms. “Why are you guys doing this if you knew I wouldn’t like it? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” He snapped and was surprised to hear how mean his voice sounded. 

“Because we care about you, Lance. We’re not going to leave you to hurt alone,” Keith reassured, walking up to Lance and putting a hand on his shoulder. Lance stepped away and ignored the hurt expression that Keith had donned. 

“Come on, Lance. You’re not the only one hurting here, man,” Hunk mentioned, and Lance snapped his head in Hunk’s direction.

“I never said I was! Can you just-”

Lance was suddenly drenched in what appeared to be goo, and he looked around for the source. Pidge was holding a remote, a guilty expression on her face. She cracked a nervous smile, and Lance took a deep breath. Don’t yell. Don’t snap. Don’t be mad.

“Sorry, Lance. That was supposed to be for the end of the party. Y’know how they smash the guest of honor’s face into the cake? That was supposed to be like that,” Pidge blabbered, and the rest of their friends looked like they were waiting for Lance to have an outburst. 

Don’t yell.

Don’t snap.

Don’t be mad.

Lance swiped some goo onto the floor and winced at the squishy noise it made as it fell to the floor. Don’t be mad. Pidge had good intentions, right? 

Pidge and Hunk let out a small chuckle at the sound, and Lance couldn’t stop himself from speaking anymore. It didn’t matter if their laughter sounded nervous, and he didn’t care if they were just trying to break the silence. None of it mattered. 

“I’m glad you find me being miserable to be such a laughing matter.”

To be fair, Lance is a bit dramatic from time to time, but that moment is definitely one for the books. 

Lance winces at the memory and lays a gentle hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “Fine, if we order another abomination, I’ll save you a slice or two. Sound good?” 

After Keith gets better, he becomes distant and doesn’t talk to Lance and Hunk as much as he used to. Lance saw this coming from a mile away, but still feels awful because Hunk certainly did not. Hunk is scrambling, wondering if he did or said something wrong to make Keith dislike him. Lance tries to assure Hunk that this isn’t the case, but there is no changing Hunk’s mind. 

Keith eventually stops staying in their dorm room, and this, in particular, has Hunk panicking. “What if he’s hiding more booze, Lance? You can’t miss another week of school, or you’ll flunk out!”

“Have some faith, Hunk. I think Keith is just thinking about Shiro. Remember how I was?” Lance asks and closes his eyes in disappointment. He had run his mouth again, and he knew that Hunk would be all over him now. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunk offers, and Lance sighs.

“No. I’m just saying that when bad things happen, you need time to get your thoughts together. Otherwise, you’ll be running around with no idea of what you’re doing.”

Hunk seems to consider his words and nods, but lets Lance know that he can talk to him if he ever needs a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. Hunk is one of the best friends ever, but wow, he never lets anything Lance says go. 

Later that night, after Hunk has fallen asleep, Lance sneaks off to Keith’s room. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say or do. All he knows is that he needs to talk to Keith. 

He reaches the room and doesn’t bother knocking, walking into a ransacked room. Keith is packing a duffel bag, and Lance immediately knows what this means. 

“You’re leaving,” Lance states and closes the door behind him. Keith freezes for a moment but quickly resumes his packing.

“I can’t stay here, Lance. Please understand. I need you to understand,” Keith confesses, not even bothering to look Lance in the eyes.

Lance, unimpressed, leans against the door, crossing his arms. “So you were just going to sneak off without saying anything? Couldn’t you say goodbye? Hunk and I are your friends; you could at least give us an Adios, suckers! before you left.”

“Saying goodbye hurts more, Lance. We’ve talked about this before,” Keith says, hoisting the duffel bag onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, when you were drunk out of your mind,” Lance scoffs, and Keith turns back to look at Lance with a sad expression. His eyes are pleading for Lance to understand, and deep down, Lance does. He understands on a molecular level why Keith needs to do this.

But Lance also feels betrayed because he thought that he and Keith were closer friends than that. “Lance, I can’t stay here,” Keith reiterates, and Lance shrugs.

“I never said you couldn’t leave, Keith. Do what you want,” Lance replies bitterly. “But I thought you would say goodbye, at the very least. I thought we were closer than that.”

Lance knows he is most likely being hurtful with his words, but he doesn’t care. He’s hurt, and he doesn’t want to be the only hurt one in this room. His inner voice tells him to shut up, that he isn’t the only one hurting right now. Lance’s pain isn’t the most significant thing in the room. It’s Keith’s. How can he forget that?

“Lance,” Keith’s voice sounds small, and Lance stops. He needs to be honest with himself. And with Keith. He does care that Keith is leaving, but the logical part of his mind is telling him that he will see Keith again. He knows that he will see Keith again, yet Lance still feels an ache in his chest that he hadn’t expected to be there. “Lance?” 

Keith is looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue his tangent. Lance moves from in front of the door and steps to the side, but he gives Keith his own pleading look.

“Please don’t go.”

Lance didn’t expect those words to come out of his mouth. But they had, and Keith now has an unreadable expression plastered across his face. Lance can’t tell if Keith looks angry, confused, or upset. Perhaps it’s a mixture of all three. Either way, Lance has put that expression there, that indecipherable expression that makes him feel guilty. 

“We’re your friends. You have a life here,” Lance tries, his voice becoming weak, and Keith’s hardened stare lets Lance know that Keith has already made his decision. Not like there was one.

“You’re not my friends; you’re just people I went to school with,” Keith denies harshly, his voice taking on an edge that Lance hadn’t heard in a long time. 

Just people you went to school with?

Lance can’t bring himself to say anything and just nods once, hoping that his emotions aren’t showing all over his face. 

“You’re an easy book to read, Lance,” A thirteen-year-old Hunk had said to Lance once, and he knew that was true if Keith’s expression is anything to go by. Lance knows that Keith probably doesn’t mean it, that he’s just saying whatever he has to to get out of this room, but Lance can’t stop himself from feeling wounded. 

“Okay,” Lance says finally and turns around, walking out of Keith’s room.

Chapter Text

Telling Hunk that Keith left is ranked number six on Lance’s Things He Hated Telling People list. Hunk had been confused and hurt, questioning out loud whether he had done something wrong or hurt Keith’s feelings in any way. Lance had tried to reassure him that he didn’t, that Keith's leaving was his own decision and no one else’s. However, Hunk was adamant that he had something to do with it and was inconsolable the rest of the night. 

Seeing Hunk act this way broke Lance’s heart, and for just a single moment, he found himself resenting Keith. He obviously didn’t want to, as Keith was his friend, and he cared for him. But a small part of him hated Keith for leaving. 

Keith's leaving was necessary, his mind had reminded him, and Lance agrees to an extent. He keeps forgetting that Keith's leaving is a vital part of the timeline. During the time he’s away from the Garrison, he’ll be able to track down and locate the Blue Lion, which will then lead them to Arus, where Allura and Coran are.

A bigger part of him- the logical part- feels guilty for even thinking that way about Keith. Keith is grieving the only way he knows how; he wants to be on his own, a lone wolf. 

“Just drift off by yourself, Mr. Lone Wolf.”

Lance winces at the memory that keeps trying to force its way inside his head. Lance hates that memory and how his stupid brain keeps trying to make him relive it. That whole situation was a dark time for all of the paladins, and he wants to avoid thinking about it at all costs. Hopefully, Lance can prevent that event from happening in this timeline so he can officially forget all about it.

Hunk’s depression about Keith lasts around three months, and then it slowly gets better with time. Hunk begins to find more comfort in cooking than he does with Lance, and that’s alright. He needs to cope somehow, and if cooking is the ticket to happiness, then Lance isn’t going to stop it. 

On the other hand, Lance starts to drown himself in his studies, keeping an eye on Hunk as he does so. The two are still friends, but they have grown a bit distant as of late, and Lance can’t deny that the whole situation is saddening. He considers Hunk his brother, and he has quite a list of things he wants to talk to him about, with time-travel being number one on that list. 

However, every time he tries to bring it up and psych himself up for the undoubtedly deep conversation they would have, a small voice that isn’t his own tells him to stop. Not now, it would say, and Lance would be left floundering, wondering why he couldn’t tell his best friend what was happening. It’s like an invisible force is stopping him from spilling the truth. 

Lance knows this invisible force probably has something to do with going back in time, but he can’t focus precisely on what it is. He just wishes this force would reveal itself so he can finally find out what the hell is going on. Lance wants to be able to talk to his best friend again. 

Eventually, enough time passes that Keith's leaving doesn’t hurt as much for both Hunk and Lance. Hunk starts talking to Lance again, at first about minor things like homework and lunch, but it slowly evolves into talks about future movie nights. There are no conversations about future Slurpee runs, however.

“We could watch Spider-Man,” Hunk suggests one night, sorting through the different channel lists that are on TV.

“Sounds good,” Lance agrees as he shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“Dude, save some for me,” Hunk says as he plunges his hand into the never-ending bowl of popcorn. 

Just as the movie starts its opening credits, there’s a knock at the door. Hunk sighs in disappointment as Lance pauses the movie, shoving his face into the bowl of popcorn in frustration.

“Dude,” Lance says, squinting his eyes in irritation. That’s their third bowl of popcorn today, and he does not feel like making more. “Coming!” Lance gets up from his bed and walks towards the door, wondering who exactly is at their door at eight o’clock at night. He opens it to a very pleasant surprise. “Mr. West! What are you doing here?”

Lance knows precisely what Mr. West is doing there, considering Pidge is standing beside him. “Lance, this is Pidge Gunderson. He’s new, so I was wondering if you and Hunk could show him the ropes around here.”

Pidge is standing beside Mr. West awkwardly, her hands gripping onto her backpack straps so tightly that Lance thinks the straps will snap if any more pressure is added. She looks nervous, which is most likely because she’s worried about her disguise. Oh. Right. Lance is supposed to think she’s a boy right now. 

“Sure. If Pidge wants to, he could join us for movie night,” Lance says as he steps aside and gestures toward the rest of the room. Hunk waves from his spot on the bed, his face still covered in popcorn, and he notices Mr. West laughing nervously. 

Pidge seems to think for a second before responding, showing a small smile. “What’re you watching?” She asks, stepping into the room a bit sheepishly. Mr. West sighs in relief before giving Lance a look of gratefulness.

“You three have the same last hour with Commander Iverson, so try to get along in there, alright? Pidge, you know where your room is. Curfew is at ten o’clock.”

Pidge nods, and Lance closes the door. “You can set your backpack down over here,” Lance motions towards Hunk’s bed. Pidge listens and sets her bag down gently. She’s definitely nervous, Lance thinks, and motions towards a beanbag he has next to his bed. He pulls it out and gestures for her to sit on it. 

He recalls that Pidge needs personal space with people she doesn’t quite know yet. She had mentioned it a few times in their previous timeline. 

She looks grateful and gladly takes a seat on the beanbag, snuggling into it to try and get comfortable.

“We’re watching Spider-Man, by the way,” Lance answers her question from earlier, and Pidge smiles.

“Which one? There are like ten different remakes by now,” She jokes, and Lance shrugs.

“We figured we’d start with the first one they made,” Lance says, and he notices Hunk rolling his eyes.

“Even though that movie is over a century old.”

“In my opinion, you can never beat the original, my dear Hunk,” Lance reasons as they start the movie, with Hunk muttering absurdities under his breath. 

“Dude, I’m so tired,” Hunk complains, laying his head down on the table they were sitting at. It’s lunchtime, and the trio is currently chugging down canned coffee and eating whatever sugary foods the Garrison could legally provide.

“Me too,” Pidge agrees, her hands shaking from all the caffeine and sugar she was ingesting. 

Lance feels a bit horrible for making the two finish the third Spider-Man trilogy with him last night, considering they stayed up until around three in the morning. Ever since Pidge had joined their first movie night, they had taken to at least watching three movies each night, each resulting in the trio being sleep-deprived in the morning. Lance can’t say he regrets it, though.

Lance hums thoughtfully, trying to think of what day it is. He feels as if something important is supposed to happen today. He voices as much, and Hunk raises his head, squinting his eyes in confusion as if he’s thinking hard. “I think it’s Monday? I could be wrong. Nothing important happens on Mondays, Lance.”

Monday?

Monday.

Monday!

Monday night, I was on Earth.

Hunk had said that last time, when he complained to Allura and Coran that he wasn’t used to being a paladin yet, to put it mildly.

Is it that time already?

Lance sobers up quickly, taking out his phone to look at the date. August 2nd, it reads. “Is something wrong, Lance? Do you have an assignment due today? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Pidge mentions, her eyes taking on a concerned shine. 

He shakes his head silently, cursing himself for forgetting and losing track of time. How does someone just magically forget the date of one of the most important events of their life? He needs to get his shit together. 

“Do you guys wanna sneak out and go stargazing tonight?” Lance asks, ignoring the bewildered looks he’s getting from Hunk and Pidge. Pidge seems to light up at this, considering Lance knows she would do it anyway. Hunk, on the other hand, looks as if he’s recalling a bad memory. 

“I know you’re still sore about Keith, but we need to get out. We don’t have to go out on the town or anything, but we need to do something fun,” Lance reasons and Hunk raises his eyebrows.

“You think just stargazing is fun?” His voice is stretched thin as if he’s having trouble speaking clearly. He’s either trying not to laugh or trying not to cry. Considering the fact that Lance mentioned Keith, it’s likely the latter.

“It doesn’t have to be just stargazing. We could have a little picnic on the roof or something,” Lance suggests, and Hunk seems to truly consider it.

“Well, I, for one, am all in,” Pidge agrees, her mind already made up, and Hunk reluctantly follows along.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

It’s last hour, and the trio is standing outside their classroom, waiting for Commander Iverson to show up so he can unlock the door. “Is Iverson always late?” Pidge asks, her feet tapping on the floor impatiently.

“Yep,” Lance and Hunk say in unison, and Pidge nods.

“I figured as much.”

“You might have heard rumors, but he’s also kind of a dick,” Lance whispers, and Pidge scoffs out a laugh.

“Judging from his frown lines, I kinda figured that as well.”

“Something funny, cadets?” A gruff voice comes from behind them, and they all jump into a salute. “Wrong hand,” Iverson says to Pidge, and she lowers her arm sheepishly. Iverson steps around them and unlocks the door, waiting by the doorway as all the cadets walk in. 

“At least we’re all in the same group,” Hunk tries to reassure Pidge, but she seems unsettled.

“Yeah,” She says blankly, her mind on something else entirely.

“Lance, I expected you to be more excited about this. Didn’t you dream of being a fighter pilot?” Hunk asks, and he’s looking awkwardly between his two friends.

“I would be a lot happier if the only reason I got into this class wasn’t because Keith dropped out,” Lance answers, trying not to sound bitter and resentful. He fails, and Hunk flinches at his tone.

“Come on, buddy. That’s not true.”

Pidge looks up at Lance finally, and her eyes are more precise now. “Lance, I don’t know you that well, but I don’t think they would let just anyone into fighter class. Even if you got in because Kevin-” 

“Keith.”

“Yeah, Keith. Even if you got in because Keith dropped out, it should mean a lot that you were the worthiest candidate to take his place. That’s not nothing.”

Lance is stunned. He never knew that he needed to hear that until it was said. He smiles softly and pats Pidge’s head. “Thanks, Pidge. I needed to hear that.”

Class starts, and their group is, unfortunately, first. “Let’s do this,” Lance says quietly, and the group enters the simulator. 

“Let me just say a few things,” Lance says as he sits down in his seat. “No offense, Pidge, but you are a bit short. You might need to lower the radio to your level so you don’t have to unbuckle your belt. And Hunk, if you feel nauseous, take deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Got it?”

The two are stunned but do as Lance told them. Lance reluctantly starts the simulator. He could fix those mistakes, but he would have to work hard to resolve his own. He still had no fucking clue as to how to fly the simulator. Sure, he knew its logistics and how to fly it technically, but it was totally different from flying one of the Lions. 

He couldn’t talk with the simulator or communicate with it; it isn’t sentient. But surely he couldn’t mess it up that badly, right?

Lance was horribly wrong.

 While they technically passed the simulator, they were bickering the whole time, as they did last time. Also, while Hunk was fixing the hydraulic stabilizer, the simulator shook so badly that even though Lance had his seatbelt on, he bounced out of his seat so high that he bumped his head ridiculously hard on the ceiling. 

Currently, Lance is holding a bloody piece of gauze to his head, trying very hard to resist rolling his eyes as Iverson goes off on the group.

“You need to be able to work together as a team! These are the kinds of mental mistakes that cost the lives of the men on the Kerberos mission.”

Uh-oh. Now Iverson's done it.

“That’s not true, sir!” Pidge exclaims angrily and doesn’t shrink under Iverson’s glare.

“What did you say!?” Iverson demands venomously, his tone so bitter that Lance almost flinches. He’s surprised Pidge doesn’t seem to bat an eye.

Lance reaches out and gently clasps a hand over Pidge’s mouth. She keeps trying to talk; however, her voice is muffled by his hand. “Sorry, sir. I think the sight of my blood might’ve made him nervous.” 

The only bad thing about Pidge not falling out of her seat is that now he didn’t have a good excuse to give to Iverson about her behavior. Not that the Commander cared, apparently, because now his focus is on Lance.

“I hope I don’t need to remind you that you’re here only because the best pilot in your class dropped out. I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps if I were you,” Iverson growls. Lance can’t stop himself from giving Iverson a stern glare, almost wanting to feel guilty for feeling such intense hatred toward someone. He hates being compared to anyone, especially Keith. Not because Lance thinks he’s better than Keith, but because he wasn’t. It’s like comparing old gas station slushies to the obviously superior Slurpees. Lance is the slushie, and Keith is the Slurpee.

He hates that he always gets sucked into some rivalry, some competition of his own making, all because someone would open their mouth and compare him to another person. It’s how his pretend rivalry with Keith started the first time around. All it took was someone saying, “ Keith could fly the simulator with one hand!” and that set Lance off. He always wanted to prove that he was better, that he could do precisely what Keith did, but better.

That line of thinking was toxic, but he couldn’t help it. His family raised him to be competitive, and he wishes they hadn’t. Lance is going to do better, though. 

Iverson steps forward, sizing him up. “Fall in line, cadet. I would take that look off your face if I were you.” His face is only a few inches away from Lance now, and wow. Iverson definitely had a cheeseburger for lunch. Lance cools his expression with some difficulty, which seems to satisfy Iverson. 

“Next!”

“Lance, are you sure you’re up for this? You should be resting; you took a bad hit today,” Hunk says, chewing his lip worriedly.

“Hunk, I’m fine, buddy. Did you grab the snacks?” Lance asks as they exit their dorm room.

“Yeah. I even put them in a cute little basket,” Hunk affirms, holding up the basket as proof.

“Nice.”

They sneak through the hallways like the pros they are, barely running into any guards across the way. They find Pidge’s room and knock three times. Pidge opens it immediately. “That was fast,” She whispers, and Lance notices she’s carrying her backpack. She exits the room and closes the door behind her. 

The three make it to the roof in no time, and Hunk begins to set out the blanket. “How in the hell did you fit that blanket into that basket?” Pidge eyes the cute little basket, her eyes showing a hint of suspicion.

“I’m secretly Mary Poppins,” Hunk answers, and Lance laughs a bit. Hunk’s new sarcasm is akin to Keith’s. 

Hunk sets out the snacks while Pidge sets up her equipment. This intrigues Hunk, and he walks over to her machines, examining them closely. “Where’d you get that stuff? It doesn’t look like the Garrison built any of it,” Lance asks as he munches on an apple.

Pidge looks smug and rolls her shoulders. “Because they didn’t. I built it. Pretty cool, right?”

“That’s an understatement,” Lance agrees, making her look even prouder.

“You built all of this?” Hunk asks, his voice awed and impressed as he reaches out to touch.

“Stop it. With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system,” Pidge informs as she smacks Hunk’s hand away. 

Lance sits down next to her. “Is that so? All the way to Kerberos, even?” 

Pidge is silent and refuses to say anything, instead picking at a small hole in her shorts. She avoids his eyes, and he decides to push.

“You got angry earlier with Iverson; what’s your deal?”

Hunk is not listening to the conversation and is still trying to touch Pidge’s equipment. She is very observant, however, and busts him. “Second warning, Hunk!”

He hesitantly retracts his hand. 

“Pidge, we might not know each other very well, but we can be your friends. You can tell us anything, okay?” Pidge still stays silent, and Lance decides to say something else. “Is it because you think the Kerberos mission failing was suspicious? They did send three of the sharpest people in the Garrison; it was pretty strange,” Lance fake-guesses. Pidge looks at him like he read her mind, and in a way, he kind of has. 

She’s about to answer when she sees Hunk trying for her equipment for the third time. “Stop touching my equipment!!”

Hunk slumps over, groaning, and Lance thinks for just a brief moment that Hunk resembles an exhausted cat. Pidge turns back towards Lance and nods at his previous statement. “That’s right, Lance. That’s why I’ve been scanning the system and picking up alien radio chatter.”

“Hold on! Aliens?” Hunk questions,  his eyes going wide, and Pidge nods at him.

“What makes you so sure?” Lance inquires, and Pidge holds up her notebook, showing so many doodles and scribbles that it almost makes his head spin.

“These voices keep repeating one word: Voltron. Tonight, it’s going crazier than I’ve ever heard it. Maybe this is that thing that you thought was important.”

That’s the biggest understatement of the year. “How crazy?”

Suddenly, the alarms from the Garrison start blaring, and the three look around. Lance knows precisely where to look: the sky. Iverson’s announcement rings through the speakers, but Lance’s attention is on the night sky. 

There.

“Look at that!” Lance points out the fiery object that’s barreling toward Earth, and Hunk starts to freak out. “Is that a super-duper big meteor heading straight for Earth?!”

Pidge grabs a pair of binoculars from her backpack and looks through them, examining the object. “It’s a ship!” She clarifies.

“Is it one of ours?” Lance asks, and Pidge pauses.

“Doesn’t look like it. It’s purple?”

Their eyes follow the ship as it crashes to the ground. The Garrison immediately sends out land rovers to the crash site. “We’ve gotta see that ship!” Pidge exclaims and packs up her equipment.

“Agreed. Hunk, pick your jaw up off the floor, come on!”

“This officially goes on record as the weirdest night out-besides Halloween-that I’ve ever had.”

The three make it to a cliff not too far away from the site, and they spy on the area. Pidge hands Lance the binoculars. He attempts to look through them but finds that his vision is fuzzy. His head injury from earlier must be affecting his sight. He’ll have to deal with it for right now. 

He wordlessly hands the binoculars over to Hunk, and Hunk takes them, giving him a look of concern. “There are a lot of guards there, guys. We’ll never manage to get a look. So, the only safe thing to do is return to the barracks and finish our picnic in our room. Sound good?” Hunk turns around and starts his trek back to the Garrison before Pidge interrupts him.

“Hold on! They set up a camera in there, and I grabbed its feed!” The feed shows Shiro strapped to a table and currently struggling to break from his restraints. The technicians are asking him questions, but he deflects them, instead warning them about the impending threat of aliens. “That’s Shiro.”

“I’m glad he’s okay,” Hunk looks relieved to see Shiro.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Pidge asks, her voice concerned as she continues to watch the feed.

“They’ll destroy us! We have to find Voltron!” Shiro’s voice rings out, and Pidge gasps.

“Voltron!”

All the technicians seem to ignore this warning and decide to put him under anesthesia, instead choosing to worry about his prosthetic arm. “I don’t understand why they’re not listening to him.”

“We have to get him out,” Pidge says, her tone filled with finality, and Lance nods his head in agreement.

“I hate to be the voice of reason here, always, but weren’t we just watching on TV because there was no way to get past the guards?” Hunk asks, and his tone is shaky. He is exceedingly nervous, a lot more than last time. 

“Hunk, we have to get him out of there. We’ll be okay; we just need to devise a plan.” 

Like clockwork, an explosion goes off, causing all three of them to look toward the source. Lance grabs the binoculars out of Hunk’s hand and looks through them, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his skull.

“Lance, don’t push yourself.”

Lance steadies his eyesight and focuses, watching as Keith himself swoops in to save Shiro on his hovercraft. “It’s Keith,” He says blankly, throwing the binoculars over his shoulder and starts running towards the sight. 

“You keep mentioning Keith; who is he?” Pidge questions, picking up her backpack and running after Lance.

“Are you sure?” Hunk inquires, and his tone indicates that he’s intrigued. 

“Oh, I’d recognize that mullet anywhere.”

“Your hair is getting long, Mullet. You could wrap it around your neck two times if you tried it,” Lance teased as Keith walked up to the dinner table, his arms crossed.

“Your hair’s looking shaggy, too, Lance. You have no room to talk.”

The rest of the group laughs at the two’s banter, and Keith sits down. “So, anything new this year?” Shiro starts the conversation, and Keith begins talking about what he’s been doing with the Blade. Then Shiro who talks about his and Curtis’ life together. Pidge, who talks about her new inventions and machines with such intensity and excitement, you would think she’s still fifteen. Hunk, who talks about being a diplomat and who loves cooking for other people. Coran, who talks about honoring Allura and taking care of New Altea with the same love and care she would have. 

And Lance, who lies and says he’s been traveling all over Earth. Nobody seems to buy this, but they say nothing, and Lance was forever grateful that they didn’t seem to care enough to bother with him anymore.

After dinner’s over and everyone turns in for the night, Lance finds himself standing in a flower field, looking up at Allura’s statue. After a few years, it's still very well taken care of. The people of New Altea still love Allura very much, even if they didn’t know her very long. He looks away from the statue. 

Lance sits down, his back towards the statue, and he looks at the flowers he’s sitting near. 

Each year, every paladin brings a flower from a planet they’ve been to and plants it on New Altea, waiting to see if a beautiful patch will form. It only works sometimes if the flowers can maintain themselves on New Altea. 

Whoever brought the flower Lance was currently sitting near should be proud because that singular flower had created such a gorgeous field. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the constant patch of juniberry flowers he saw on Earth. 

The flower consisted of a long stem with several flowers on it, each with five petals, which looked like hearts. They were a soothing light purple color. 

Lance smiled and felt calm for the first time in a while. 

He suddenly heard footsteps and looked behind him, spotting Keith, who looked embarrassed that he was spotted. Lance gave him a confused look, not tearing his eyes away from Keith as he was perplexed as to why he was still up. 

“Hey.” 

Keith awkwardly waved, standing in such a weird position that he looked uncomfortable. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, making him appear to have shorter hair than he really had. Keith was dressed up in the clothing he wore to dinner, which consisted of a leather jacket and combat boots. Lance never expected Keith to wear anything else if he was honest.

 “Dude. Just sit down.” Lance patted the ground in front of himself, and Keith obliged. “What’s up?”

Keith looked down at his hands, fiddling with them before looking up at Lance. “I have a mission that I need to leave early for. I went to say goodbye to everyone, but you weren’t in your room. So, I came out here. And I’m glad I found you.”

Lance smiled. “Yeah, you found me.”

“But, I have time to talk, so… How have you really been?” As always, Keith was good at calling Lance out on his bullshit, and Lance couldn’t find it in himself to lie to Keith. 

“I’ll just be honest. I feel kind of numb. That’s all I can really say.”

Keith nodded like he understood. “I know. You’ve seemed that way the past few years I’ve seen you.” He stopped for a second, thinking. “Why don’t you try to get back in the saddle? You could work at the Garrison. You used to love space, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but that was before we entered a space war. Besides, I’d never want to work with Iverson.” Lance waved that thought away. 

Keith looked concerned; his eyebrows narrowed. “You really weren’t listening today at dinner, were you? Shiro said that Iverson was retiring. You wouldn’t have to work with him.”

“Yeah, well.”

The two were silent for a moment, each thinking of things to say.

“Do you know who planted these flowers?” Lance asked, and Keith looked up.

“Why? Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, nothing like that. I really like them; I just want to know who planted them and what kind of flower they are.”

Keith seemed relieved. “Oh… I planted them.”

Lance widened his eyes. “What kind are they?”

“Verbena bonariensis. It represents healing, protection, and….” Keith trails off, but Lance is curious to know the other meaning. 

“And?”

“Romance.”

“Aww, Keith. I didn’t know you were a romantic,” Lance teased, and Keith seemed relieved for some reason. “So, tell me. Who’s the lucky guy/gal?”

Keith smiled softly. “I’ll never tell you. But here’s a hint: you know them pretty well.”

Lance fucking trips on his way to the site, which causes him to scuff up his head even more.

“Dude, be careful. Why are you so clumsy lately?” Hunk says as he helps Lance up off the ground. Lance mumbles out an apology before continuing his race to the site. “Lance!”

He can't afford to worry about himself right now. All he can worry about is getting through this night. Then, everything else that comes after. There's no time to reminisce on the past right now.

He arrives at the building, listening as the technicians get the absolute quiznak beat out of them. Lance enters, watching as Keith helps Shiro up off the table. He knocks on the wall beside him, making his appearance known. 

“Need some help?”

Keith freezes, looking up cautiously. His posture seems to relax as he realizes who it is. “Lance? What are you doing here?”

Lance ignores the cold tone Keith is giving him and secretly rejoices that Keith remembers who he is this time. +1 point to his self-esteem.

“What do you think? We’re here to rescue Shiro. Duh,” Lance says as he picks up Shiro’s other arm and wraps it around his neck. Keith says nothing and instead opts for carrying Shiro out, with Lance following his lead. They exit the building and see Pidge and Hunk sitting by the hovercraft. 

“Uh, do you mind if we catch a ride with you?” Hunk asks nervously, pointing to various Garrison vehicles that are on their way to the crash site. Keith doesn’t answer, instead laying Shiro down in front of Pidge. Shiro falls back, his head leaning on Pidge, and she grunts in irritation. 

“This thing isn’t big enough for all of us,” Lance observes.

“Obviously.” Keith barks out, starting the hovercraft.

Oh. Keith wants to play it that way, does he? How mature. Lance doesn’t engage and helps Pidge keep Shiro upright. 

The ride to the desert shack is as much of a doozy as it was last time, but with Lance nearly falling off seven different times, with one of those times having him getting knocked into a rock wall when they got too close to the side of the cliff they were on.

“Ow.” Lance rubs his arm mildly. He’s certain that he’s going to have a ginormous bruise on his shoulder in a few hours.

“Seriously, buddy. You have to be more careful,” Hunk voices.

Lance looks at Hunk, his expression full of irritation. “Dude, I’m not trying to get hurt on purpose. It just happens.”

“He’s right, though, Lance. That makes the third time today,” Pidge points out, but Hunk interrupts her.

“Fourth, if you count the time you tripped after you pranked James.” 

“That was just karma at that point,” Lance mutters, rolling his shoulder to try and stretch it so it wouldn’t be sore later. 

The hovercraft had slowed down at this point while they were talking, but then, without further ceremony, stops. They made it to the shack. Keith gets off first, rounding to the side and helping Shiro off of Pidge, who is currently being crushed by the unconscious man. Lance is next to get off, coming around to help. 

“What prank did you pull on James this time?” Keith quietly asks.

“I was helping Mr. West assign partners for a project, and I told James his partner was Jenny Talia.”

Keith looks at Lance blankly.

“Say it out loud a few times, dude.”

Keith mouths the name twice before getting it, letting a slight smirk come across his face. “That’s good. I would never have thought of that.”

You also don’t know how to do the Voltron chant either, so that’s not very reassuring. Lance keeps that thought to himself. 

Keith opens the door to the shack and leads everyone inside, setting Shiro down on the couch.  “You guys can rest in here. I’ll grab some blankets,” Keith says awkwardly. He leaves the room, and Hunk seems to want to say something.

“It can wait, buddy. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to talk later,” Lance says as he puts a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk nods, but he still looks indecisive. “Right now, all he’s worried about is Shiro. His mind won’t fully be on the conversation like it should be. Okay?”

This seems to convince Hunk, and he nods, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Pidge follows suit, and then Lance does. They sit in a little circle, basking in comfortable silence. Lance suddenly feels exhausted. 

Keith comes through with the blankets, handing one to everyone in the room before draping a blanket over Shiro. “Try to get some rest. I have a feeling we’re going to have a long day tomorrow,” Keith suggests, and everybody nods their heads in agreement. 

Everyone stands in the shack the following day, looking at the diagrams and maps that Keith has pinned up on his bulletin board. Keith talks about how he was drawn to some energy here in the desert. 

Lance tunes all this out, as he had already listened to this before. He just wants to find Blue already. 

“Lance, kiddo. You doing alright?” Shiro’s voice interrupts Lance’s thinking, and he looks up, a little ashamed to find everyone’s attention on him now.

“Maybe he has a concussion. He did bump his head in the simulator yesterday,” Pidge teases, and Hunk lets out a nervous laugh.

“I hope not.”

“Guys, quit exposing me!” Lance hisses, which causes the two to break out in genuine laughter.

“How did you manage that?” Shiro asks, amused, and Lance glares pointedly at Hunk. “He took too long to fix the hydraulic stabilizer!” He blames them, which does not help since it causes Hunk to laugh even harder. 

Shiro huffs out a laugh before continuing with introductions. He already knows Hunk and Lance, but he still needed to be introduced to Pidge. They shake hands.

“I’m Pidge. Anyway, did anyone else from your crew make it out?”

Shiro’s unfortunate amnesia case comes into play, and he says that he has no clue, which causes Pidge to look downtrodden. 

Hunk inquires about the aliens, and Shiro answers with the resounding answer that they need to find Voltron. Hunk admits shamelessly that he rifled through Pidge’s stuff and that he was able to make a Voltron Geiger Counter.

That’s how they find themselves back in the desert, looking at boulders. Lance can sense Blue’s energy. He can feel her pulling him towards her location, calling for him to come and free her. 

I am glad to see you, young one.

Lance follows Hunk’s readings, feeling another wave of excitement go through him. He is going to see and fly Blue again. Hopefully. 

If he could only fly the Red Lion now, they are beyond screwed. 

They are led to the cave, which is full of ancient carvings, all resembling the Blue Lion. Lance touches one without hesitation, and all the markings begin to glow blue.

“They’ve never done that before,” Keith says in awe, and everyone looks around the cave admiringly. 

Suddenly, the ground beneath the group collapses, and they find themselves in a cavern of water. Lance looks up and feels his heart grow warm. “Hello, Beautiful,” He says quietly, and can practically feel Blue purring in response. There stands Blue, guarded by a forcefield that surrounds her. She sits proudly, her eyes trained on Lance.

You are not going to make me come to you, are you?

Lance could never be able to describe what Blue’s voice was like. It was soft yet firm. Gentle and kind. Stern yet amused. 

She contradicts herself in all the best ways, and Lance will always love her for it. 

Lance gets up from the puddle of water he is currently sitting in and walks up to Blue, hearing the others follow behind him.

“Is this it? Is this the Voltron?” The way Pidge asks this almost makes Lance laugh.

They all make it to the forcefield at the same time.”I wonder how we get through this,” Keith touches the forcefield, eliciting no reaction from Blue. He probably feels a connection to Blue because of his mom, Lance realizes. Lance walks up beside Keith, smiling slightly.

“Maybe you just have to knock.”

He does two knocks on the forcefield, which immediately shatters, and an image of Voltron flashes through everyone’s minds.

“Voltron is a robot! Voltron is a huge, huge awesome robot!” Hunk exclaims, his tone excited and less nervous than before.

“This one is only one part of it. I wonder where the rest of them are,” Pidge ponders.

Blue slowly lowers her head and opens her mouth, shooting out a walkway. Hunk and Pidge cower while Shiro and Keith prepare themselves.

Lance walks in without hesitation and sits down in his seat. “I missed you,” He says simply, and Blue purrs happily.

And I have missed you.

Suddenly, Lance’s seat jolts forward to the cockpit, which activates the command console. It lights up in a familiar blue glow, and Lance sighs. The rest of the group enters, looking around Blue as if she were an intergalactic treasure. 

“We’re in a futuristic alien cat head right now,” Hunk says, his voice blank as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

You know what to do. You have not forgotten, have you?

Lance does precisely as he did last time, pressing buttons and piloting Blue like it was muscle memory. She isn’t as excitable as last time, but she is gleeful, to say the very least. 

He does smooth flips and somersaults through the air, which is fine for him since he has a belt on—not so fun for the others, considering the only thing to hang onto is him and his seat. 

He lands Blue on the ground, but she won’t stop. 

We cannot stop now, young one. Remember?

She shoots herself into the sky, and Lance is a bit annoyed, considering someone is yanking the hell out of his hair to hold on.

“Sorry, guys. It’s like she’s on autopilot. She says there’s an alien ship approaching Earth, and we’re supposed to stop it.” Lance reasons, and Pidge raises an eyebrow.

“She?”

Lance curses internally. Thankfully, Hunk interrupts before he can answer.

“If this lion is the weapon they’re looking for, why don’t we just give it to them? Sorry, lion. Nothing personal.”

Blue growls irritatedly, and Lance stifles a laugh. I might remember, but he doesn’t. Cut him some slack.

Shiro reprimands Hunk firmly, stating what the Galra are, what they do, and what they’re capable of. 

Hunk looks sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“It’s okay, Hunk,” Lance reassures. “Now, let’s make sure the Galra won’t fuck with Earth,” He says, zooming forward.

“Language,” Shiro says seriously. 

The Galra warship shows itself and opens fire. 

“We’ve got to get it out of here!” Pidge warns, and Lance agrees.

“Hang on, everyone! Just not to my hair!”

He could pilot Blue with his eyes closed at this rate, dodging the onslaught of laser guns easily.

Lance and Blue work together, shooting the length of the warship with her laser before slashing the side of it with her claws. “Great job, Lance!” Shiro praises, and Lance smiles.

“Alright, now it's time to lead these guys away from Earth. Ready, Blue?”

Blue purrs, and it’s audible to everyone in the cockpit. “Lance, you’re fluent in robot space lion?” Hunk questions in disbelief, and Lance shrugs.

“When you get your lion, it’ll all make sense.”

“You think we’ll get to pilot a lion? Is that what this thing told you?” Pidge inquires. Blue growls, not liking being called a ‘thing.’

“Think about it. That vision we saw included five lions. There are five of us,” Lance points out.

“Solid math,” Keith agrees, and Shiro seems to ponder this.

“That might be true. Let’s not make any more assumptions for right now. Is that Kerberos?”

“It takes months for our ships to get this far. We got here in five seconds,” Pidge says, her voice filled with surprise. 

Suddenly, Blue opens a wormhole, and Lance knows where it leads. 

It is okay, young one. You can do this.

“What is that?” Hunk asks nervously.

“It’s a wormhole. She wants us to go through there,” Lance responds. Pidge pats Hunk’s back comfortingly.

“Do you know where it goes?”

Lance shakes his head. He’s such a lying liar. 

“I have no clue. Shiro, you’re our senior officer here. What do you want to do?” Lance deflects, and Shiro stops to think for a second.

“Whatever’s happening here, the lion knows more than we do. I say we trust it. However, we are a team now. We should decide together.”

Everybody looks at each other in silence before agreeing. Pidge puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder as if to reassure him. Everyone has come to a decision.

Lance pops his knuckles and opens a glove box under the console. Everyone looks at Lance in confusion. He pulls out a small bucket Blue kept for special situations like this one. He knows what he needs it for.

He hands it to Hunk, and the latter looks at him, unimpressed. “You’re going to throw up, don’t even try and deny it.” 

Hunk doesn’t argue with that logic and hugs the bucket like a lifeline. After that exchange, Lance takes control. 

“Alright, guys. See you on the other side.”

Everybody groans.

Chapter Text

The turbulence from the wormhole didn’t affect Lance as severely as it did the first time, but it did affect the others. Between Pidge, Keith, and Shiro grasping onto Lance’s chair for dear life and Hunk vomiting his guts out into the bucket Lance gave him, Lance knows that for a fact.

“You weren’t wrong about the bucket, Lance,” Hunk groans before vomiting into the bucket again.

“I’m surprised it took this long,” Pidge comments, giving Hunk a serious side-eye. She pats Hunk on his shoulder, nevertheless providing minimal support. Hunk looks like he wants to thank her, but vomits yet again. 

Shiro looks uncomfortable and attempts to change the subject. “I don’t recognize any of these constellations. We must be a long, long way from Earth.” Everyone looks around, silently agreeing with Shiro’s assessment. Lance looks forward, staring at Arus with a solemn expression. 

“She’s taking us to this planet. She wants to go home.”

Blue blasts towards Arus excitedly, and Lance groans from the intense weight suddenly huddled against his back. The turbulence is more intense this time as Blue enters the planet’s atmosphere. 

“Personal space,” Lance grunts, ignoring the urge to comment on Hunk’s rank breath. Vomiting really did not do the man any favors. At least Lance didn’t have to clean up the vomit later off of Blue’s floor, so that was a plus. 

“Um, is it just me, or is anyone else having second thoughts about flying through a mysterious wormhole? Why are we listening to a robotic lion anyway?” Hunk asks, his face twisted in a mixture of frustration and confusion. Lance immediately goes on the defensive. 

“Blue got us away from that alien warship, didn’t she?” Lance points out.

Keith leans in from behind. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re in an alien warship.”

“Yeah, an alien warship that was chilling on Earth and drew the Galra, the alleged bad guys, away from our planet. Why are you so suspicious of everything?”

Lance knows that the last question was unnecessary, but he is feeling very nervous right now. He’s going to see her again, and he doesn’t know how to feel or act. Lance can’t exactly run and jump into Allura’s arms, as much as he would like, because she would body-slam him like she did Lotor that one time.

Keith is stunned into silence by Lance’s question and crosses his arms, looking in a different direction. Lance wants to apologize, but is cut off by Shiro.

“Look, I understand no one’s happy to be in this situation, but we’re here now. If we want to get through this, we’ve got to do it together as a team.”

Pidge straightens her posture. “So, what do we do?” She asks, and Shiro smiles nervously before his mouth turns down into a grim line.

“First, we find out where we’re headed. Lance?” Shiro looks at Lance to clarify, and Lance looks ahead.

He’s not going to pull a fart joke this time, not really having it in himself to joke around. A silence hangs for a bit as Lance pretends to communicate with Blue, a silence that would usually be filled with that joke. “So… anything?” 

“Uh, she’s saying, You guys are literally blind because there’s a castle right in front of us,” Lance answers, feeling comfort in Blue’s laughter reverberating through his head. Everyone else follows Lance’s gaze and gasps in awe at the castle standing tall before them. 

Blue lands and lets everyone exit. “Keep your guard up. My crew was captured by aliens once, and I’m not going to let it happen again,” Shiro commands firmly, and everyone nods. Blue lets out a loud roar, and Hunk panics.

“I knew it was going to eat us!!” He yells, crouching with his hands covering his head.

Contrary to what Hunk thought, the roar only opens the castle’s doors. Hunk apologizes when he notices this, and everyone looks at him in disbelief.

They enter the castle, and Lance begins to feel a sense of dread take form. This dread has always been there, ever since he discovered he had traveled back in time; Ever since Lance found out he was going to see Allura again. The castle scans them, opening up more doors when it’s finished, which literally helps nobody’s anxiety at all. Shiro seems even more worried than before, and everyone seems to cling to him like he’s a safety blanket.

They begin to walk through numerous hallways, and Lance’s dread keeps building and building. There was a pit in his stomach that would probably induce nausea soon, and he was pretty sure this whole situation was giving him high blood pressure because Lance’s heart is beating really, really fast.

He feels four pairs of eyes on him, and Lance curses himself for letting his emotions show on his face. He tries to school his expression and ignores the worried stares he’s getting. What the hell is he going to do? Lance can’t run up to hug Allura, but he can’t catch her when she falls out of her sleep chamber either, because he just knows he’ll start crying. 

Lance’s mind is blank when they finally reach the Sleep Chamber room, and he holds his breath. “Where are we?” Lance manages to ask, but his voice comes out shaky. Lance genuinely wishes he could punch himself sometimes.

“It’s some kind of control room,” Pidge answers, and the console she’s next to activates.

Uh-oh. 

It’s happening, and Lance needs to think fast. 

Lance can’t catch her, but he also can’t just let her fall to the ground either. 

He lets his eyes wander for a second and notices Keith standing beside him. His arms are crossed, but his eyes are worried and currently trained on Lance. The sleep chambers rise from the ground, and Lance suddenly has a terrible but great idea.

Sorry, Keith.

Allura’s sleep pod opens, and she opens her eyes. “Father!” She reaches her hand out and…

Lance pretends to accidentally bump into Keith, putting Keith in Allura’s path. Keith awkwardly puts his hands out and catches the princess, causing Lance to sigh in relief.

“Sorry, dude,” Lance shrugs, and Keith frowns, narrowing his eyes in confusion. 

Lance focuses his attention on Keith, trying to ignore the awakening Allura in Keith’s arms. If he lets himself feel relief that Allura’s alive, he will start crying, and he can’t do that right now. Lance needs to go through the motions until he can get his own room, and then he’ll start crying. That’s the only logical plan that Lance can come up with right now. 

Keith turns his attention to Allura and tilts his head. “Are you okay?” He asks, steadying her.

She squints her eyes in suspicion. “Who are you? Where am I?” 

“Uh, I’m Keith. Are-” Keith is immediately cut off by Allura touching his ears.

“Your ears…They’re hideous. What’s wrong with them?”

Keith is offended and pulls away from her, holding his ears defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with them!”

Allura finally looks around the room, a look of panic subtly registering on her face. “Who are you? Where is King Alfor? What are you doing in my Castle?” 

Lance figures he has to answer, or Allura will keep panicking. She has no leverage, considering she didn’t grab anyone and pin them by their ears this time. “The Blue Lion brought us here. That’s all we know,” Lance answers, putting his hands up in a surrendering position. This raises more questions from Allura, and Lance decides to let Shiro take it from here. Lance can’t handle any more talking. 

“Why don’t you tell us who you are? Maybe we can help,” Shiro suggests, and Allura stands up straight.

“I am Princess Allura of Planet Altea," She introduces herself. "I’ve got to find out where we are and how long we have been asleep." She walks up to the console and places her hands on it, which makes a screen pop up. 

“So that’s how that works,” Pidge mumbles under her breath.

The second sleeping pod opens, and out comes Coran, who immediately jumps at Lance. Lance steps out of the way, causing Coran to lose his balance.

Coran proceeds to try and square up with Lance, much to Lance’s chagrin. He doesn’t have it in him to play fight with Coran right now. Coran, unfortunately, will not take the hint. 

“Man, he’s good,” Hunk comments, finding amusement in Coran’s techniques. However, Allura is devastated by what her screen is showing.

“It can’t be,” She starts, and Coran looks over, noticing her for the first time.

“What is it?”

“We’ve been asleep for ten thousand years!” 

Lance, regrettably, tunes out while Allura goes on her tirade about Zarkon and the Galra. He almost forgot how viciously she hated Zarkon. He couldn’t really blame her in that regard. On the other hand, the Galra themselves weren’t all guilty and deserving of her hatred. The Blade of Marmora was living proof of that. So was Keith. 

A few minutes later, after everyone has settled, Allura stands at the Sleep Chamber console with a plate of food goo floating nearby. She pushes it away with a single finger. 

“Princess, you must eat. It's been 10,000 years!" Coran exclaims, pushing the floating plate back towards her. She pushes it away again.

"I'm not hungry."

Lance keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to argue or bicker with Keith this time. Keith keeps glancing at Lance rather awkwardly as if he’s waiting for Lance to say something. 

Hunk sighs and puts a hand on his stomach. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, and I'm starving.”

Pidge adjusts her glasses, giving him a skeptical look. "Yeah, but you've thrown up, like, five times."

Hunk considers her words and nods. "Good point.” He reaches out and takes the food goo that Coran and Allura keep passing back and forth. He takes a bite and, although disgusted, decides to eat the goo.

I can’t wait until Hunk discovers he can cook here, Lance thinks, daydreaming of the delicious food that Hunk would soon be able to make. He did not miss the food goo at all. 

Shiro looks around the room in awe, no doubt comparing Earth’s technology to the Altean’s. "I can't believe your civilization created such advanced technology ten thousand years ago. It must have been an incredible place."

Coran seems prideful at the compliment, but his expression dampens. "Yes, it was... but now it is gone, and we're the last Alteans alive."

Allura steps away from the console and looks down, her expression full of sadness and devastation. Coran steps towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She jumps into his arms, and they embrace each other, mourning their lost families. 

You won’t be the last Alteans forever, Lance thinks, trying not to get trapped in the depressing feeling of the room. 

Allura’s ear twitches, and she steps away from Coran. She walks over to the sleeping chamber she was in and blushes, seemingly joyful at what she sees. "Looks like we're not the last, after all." The four mice in the chamber wave at her, and Lance can’t resist a small smile. 

Suddenly, the Castleship’s alarms start blaring. A Galra warship pops onto the console’s screen, causing everyone to tense up at the sight. “A Galra battleship has set its tracker to us!” Coran informs. 

Allura seems worried but manages to devise a plan. She sets her hands on the console and locates the lions almost effortlessly. She shows the coordinates to everyone in the room and begins to speak. 

"As you have found, the Lions choose their pilots. It is a mystical bond and cannot be forced. The Quintessence of the pilot is mirrored in his Lion. Together, they form something greater than science can explain."

 "The Black Lion is the decisive head of Voltron. It will take a pilot who is a born leader and in control at all times, someone whose men will follow without hesitation. That is why, Shiro, you will pilot the Black Lion."

"The Green Lion has an inquisitive personality and needs a pilot of intellect and daring. Pidge, you will pilot the Green Lion.”

“The Blue Lion has the friendliest personality and is well-balanced in all aspects. It is a hyper and fun-loving Lion that needs a pilot to match it beat for beat. Lance, you will pilot the Blue Lion.”

Hearing Allura say his name for the first time in seven years almost has Lance tearing up. But he needs to stay strong. Besides, he interrupted her description of the Blue Lion before. It feels a little strange hearing it for the first time. 

Allura continues her speech, and Lance listens to her voice. Her voice sounds soft and melodic yet firm and strong. Lance forgot how much he loved to hear her talk. 

"The Yellow Lion is caring and kind. Its pilot puts the needs of others above his own. His heart must be mighty. As the leg of Voltron, Hunk, you will lift the team up and hold them together."

"The Red Lion is temperamental and the most difficult to master. It's faster and more agile than the others, but also more unstable. Its pilot needs to be someone who relies more on instincts than skill alone. Keith, you will fly the Red Lion."

Allura then explains that she cannot find the Red Lion’s coordinates yet and that the Castle is rather old and probably needs some serious repairs. 

Shiro devises his own plan. “Pidge and I will go after the Green Lion. Lance, you take Hunk and get the yellow one. Keith, you stay here. If you locate that Red Lion, go get it."

Allura wordlessly agrees with this plan, her expression stating that she is proud of who she chose to pilot the Black Lion. "In the meantime, I'll get this Castle's defenses ready. They'll be sorely needed."

Getting chased by Galra fighter jets is never fun, no matter how you dress it up. On the plus side, Lance did have a bit more experience with this. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this to Hunk later. 

He and Blue zoom through the sky, taking shots at the jets and hitting every single one. Hunk holds Lance’s seat with one hand while he holds the bucket from earlier with his other hand. “Lance, what the hell, man!? Calm down!”

Lance opts to ignore Hunk, considering Lance is currently busy beating the Galra’s asses.

“I thought Coran said these planets were peaceful!” Hunk exclaims.

“Oh, they’re about to be,” Lance promises and promptly wipes out the last fighter jet. 

Good job, young one. I knew you still had it in you.

Blue’s voice is soft and reassuring, and Lance will always be eternally grateful for her support. 

He continues to follow the coordinates and lets out Hunk out near the mine the Yellow Lion is in, promising to keep a sharp eye out for any Galra. 

A few moments later, the Yellow Lion bursts out of the mine, and Lance can feel the excitement shared between the Blue and Yellow Lions. It’s a feeling of kinmanship like they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Lance supposes that part is true and smiles as Hunk excitedly gives a speech on how cool the Yellow Lion is. 

“We still have a little while until we have to go back. Want to test the waters with your Lion? There’s a whole bunch of stuff here to smash.”

“You made it,” Allura says, relieved as Lance and Hunk enter the bridge. Hunk immediately starts talking about how cool the Yellow Lion is and how awesome it feels to pilot it. 

“So no trouble then?” Pidge lifts an eyebrow, and Hunk pauses. He and Lance exchange a look before shrugging.

“No, why would you say that? Coran did say it was peaceful,” Lance points out, and Coran scratches his head nervously.

“Is that so? Because after a few repairs, the system updated to say that the planet was invaded by the Galra a while ago.”

“Well, yeah, we did have a little trouble with some fighter jets, but Lance totally merked them. It was so cool!”

Lance blushes at Hunk’s compliment and rubs the back of his neck nervously. Hunk rarely brags about anyone like this, so it’s no small feat to get Hunk talking like this. 

Shiro nods his head at this, seemingly impressed. “Wish I could have seen it. We had a tough time, too,” Shiro says, sharing a knowing look with Pidge. They smile at each other, and Lance quickly deduces that they did not have a tough time at all. 

Shiro looks up at Allura and addresses her. “Did we find the Red Lion yet?”

Coran nods. "Allura just located it. There's a bit of good news and bad news. The good news is, the Red Lion's nearby. The bad news is, it's onboard that Galra ship now orbiting Arus. But wait, good news again. We're Arus!"

Shiro pauses, his eyes widening. “Wait, they’re here already?”

Coran seems a bit remorseful when he holds up his fingers. "Yes. Guess my calculations were a bit off. Finger counting—It's more of an art than a science. Hmm?"

Suddenly, a video transmission overtakes the Castle's screen, and Sendak appears. Lance feels a wave of unadulterated hatred go through his body, almost taking him by surprise. Sendak was responsible for so many deaths in the previous timeline. He isn’t going to be responsible for any more in this one.

Sendak begins to speak, his tone full of smugness and arrogance. Lance wishes he could jump through the screen and strangle him. "Princess Allura, this is Commander Sendak of the Galra Empire. I come on behalf of Emperor Zarkon, Lord of the Known Universe. I am here to confiscate the Lions. Turn them over to me, or I will destroy your planet."

The transmission ends suddenly.

Shiro turns around to look at everyone, wincing at the differing expressions on each paladin’s face.  "All right, let's not panic."

Hunk panics anyway. "Not panic? Th-The scary purple alien thing is driving his battleship toward us. We only have four Lions."

Pidge adjusts her glasses. "Technically, only three working Lions."

Hunk nods his head at the correction. "That's right. Thank you, Pidge. Three working Lions and a Castle that's ten thousand years old." 

Coran doesn’t take the hint that Hunk is nervous and adds, "A-Actually, it's 10,600 years old. You see, it was built by my grandfather—"

Hunk interrupts. "Thanks, Coran. Thank you for that. See? Now is the perfect time to panic!"

Lance puts a hand on Hunk’s shoulder, advising him to take deep breaths. “I know this is scary, buddy. But we’re capable, okay? What was it your grandmother used to say?”

Hunk looks up at Lance, seeming grateful that Lance brought it up. “‘Don’t worry so much, talavou. You’ll pass out,” Hunk answers, taking deep breaths as he does so. 

Pidge raises her eyebrows at this. “That’s a thing to say,” She comments, and Lance gives her a pointed look.

“Not the time or place, Pidge.”

She holds her hands up in surrender.

Hunk eventually calms down and looks around. “So, what do we do?” He asks, and everyone looks at each other. 

“I think we should stay and fight,” Lance begins, and Hunk seems confused. “Really? Cuz’ I thought we should just make a little lion snake and escape through a wormhole. Anyone else on board with that plan?”

Pidge, Keith, and Shiro immediately disagree, and Lance sighs. “Hunk, we have to stay. I know it’s scary, but we have to try and fight, okay? The Yellow Lion believed you were worthy of being its pilot, and you shouldn’t waste that.” 

Lance hates that he has to manipulate his friend into fighting the Galra, but he doesn’t know any other options.

“Hunk, come on! Staying is our only option,” Keith tries to convince, but since he and Hunk haven’t talked yet, the atmosphere starts getting really tense.

“Who are you to say staying is the only option?” Hunk bites, and Keith glares.

Lance gets between the two and looks pointedly at Keith. “Keith, please keep your quiznak shut until further notice; it’s not really helping,” Lance reasons and notices out of the corner of his eye that the Alteans flinch at his use of their language.

“I don’t think you’re using that word correctly,” Keith seethes, but Lance ignores him. 

He looks Allura in the eye for the first time and swallows his tongue. Lance suddenly forgets how to talk. He clears his throat and looks over at Shiro. He manages to catch his eye and nods toward Allura. Shiro gets the message but gives Lance a weird look. This is going to be so awkward to explain later, Lance thinks. 

Shiro asks Allura what to do, and she shakes her head. “I-I don’t know,” She stutters, fidgeting with her hands.

Coran places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps your father can help.” 

After a few minutes, Allura returns from talking to her father’s AI. She is donned in her spacesuit, an outfit Lance hasn’t seen in so long. She pretty much stopped wearing it after she became the Blue Paladin in the previous timeline. Allura basically switched back and forth between her everyday dress and her paladin armor. 

She still looks as beautiful as ever. 

She begins to speak, her voice firm. "You five paladins were brought here for a reason. The Voltron Lions are meant to be piloted by you and you alone. We must fight and keep fighting until we defeat Zarkon. It is our destiny. Voltron is the universe's only hope. We are the universe's only hope."

The whole team agrees, and Shiro voices this. "We're with you, Princess."

Allura leads the Paladins to the armory holding the Paladin armor. Everyone runs towards the cases holding the armor, looking through the glass in awe. 

Everyone puts on their armor, and Lance sighs when he puts his on. Man, he really did look good in blue. 

When the Paladins receive their bayards, Lance refrains from commenting on Pidge’s, afraid she would taze him again. He’d like to avoid any more injuries if he can help it. 

Unfortunately, the universe seems to hate him. Unbeknownst to him, until it was a few moments too late, Pidge had been goofing around with her bayard, not anticipating Lance to turn and show her his. He had walked right into the damn thing and tazed himself. 

“Lance! Oh my God, are you okay?” She asks, staring at his crumpled form on the floor. He raises a hand, morphing it into a thumbs-up. 

The universe must really have it out for him. 

Thankfully, the plan goes off without a hitch this time around. 

"The Galra Empire knows about the Blue and Yellow Lion, but they don't know we have the Green Lion, too. Hunk, Lance, you'll act as a decoy by pretending to give yourselves up."

While Sendak is distracted, Keith, Pidge, and I will sneak onto the ship in the Green Lion. Keith and I will find the Red Lion while Pidge guards our exit. Hunk, Lance, find some way to take down that ion cannon."

Hunk and Lance approach the Galra ship and successfully trick the Galra into thinking they’re giving up the Lions while the other three sneak onboard the ship. In that timeframe, Hunk and Lance manage to severely damage the ion cannon. Pidge and Shiro rescue the prisoners and send them off in an escape pod while Keith manages to free the Red Lion. 

“Kitty Rose has left the stage!” Pidge exclaims, and everyone agrees to get the hell out of dodge. 

All the Lions zip towards the Castle, eager to free the Black Lion. The Black Lion accepts Shiro almost immediately, and everyone is relieved. 

However, their relief is short-lived. “Sendak is entering the Arusian atmosphere. We need Voltron now!” Allura commands. “I can give you cover with the Castle defenses for a while, but you have to form Voltron now, or we’ll all be destroyed!”

“Jeez, no pressure or anything,” Hunk mumbles. 

Unfortunately, the struggle to form Voltron is the same as last time, despite Lance’s attempts to mentally meld with his teammates. The others seem clueless about his attempts, and he doesn’t know what to do. He could let things play out the same, but that feels lazy. 

“Combine!” Hunk shouts as he crashes the Yellow Lion into the Red Lion.

“Hey!” Keith exclaims.

“Oops, figured that wouldn’t work,” Hunk says sarcastically, and the rest of the team sighs. Lance decides to talk for the first time in a while. 

He finds his tongue, along with his nerve, and begins to talk. “Guys, we all have a common goal here, right? Defeat Sendak should be first on the list of priorities right now, okay? Maybe it'll work if we all focus on that single objective?”

The comms are silent, and Lance immediately thinks he screws up. 

“That’s a great idea, Lance. It’s worth a shot,” Shiro finally says, and Lance is shocked. Did he say a good thing?

“Sounds as good a plan as any,” Pidge comments, and Keith hums in agreement.

“Sounds good, buddy,” Hunk concedes, and Lance sighs in relief. 

The five paladins begin to think on one singular objective and begin to meld their minds together. Lance begins to feel his teammates' emotions and initially feels a little resistance.

“This feels weird,” Pidge narrates.

“Just keep focusing; it’s working,” Shiro says, his voice distant. 

The resistance fades after a while, and then Lance feels it. 

They formed Voltron.

They destroy the Galra warship with ease and meet back up at the Castle of Lions. 

“Good work, paladins!” Allura praises them, and Lance feels guilty that he can’t bring himself to thank her. He avoids her eyes. 

“We did it. Lance, your suggestion worked,” Shiro compliments, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. His expression is full of pride. 

Lance waves the compliment away awkwardly. “We’re a team. We all did it.” Shiro tilts his head at Lance’s dismissive attitude but says nothing. Shiro directs his gaze over to a downtrodden Pidge. 

 "We're not going to stop searching until we find your brother and father. Wherever they are, I know they'd be proud of you." Shiro pats Pidge’s head as he says this, and Pidge seems to cheer up just the slightest. 

Right. Pidge’s family. That’s another thing Lance is going to change. While her family did turn out to be alive and well last time, Lance wants her to be able to find them quicker than she did last time. Whatever it takes, Lance will help her find them.

“It’s not going to be easy being Defenders of the Universe,” Coran comments, beaming at the Paladins with a clever look in his eye. Shiro smiles. 

“Defenders of the Universe, huh? That’s got a nice ring to it.”

Later, after Coran and Allura officially give them a tour of the Castle and what will be their rooms, Lance goes to sit on the observation deck. 

Well, one of three that the Castle has, considering it's so big.

Lance sighs as he looks out at the infinite number of stars the universe seems to have and sadly smiles. He wants to keep the tears in; he knows he should keep the tears in, but isn’t capable of it. 

Lance feels only a few teardrops drip down his face, relieved to know that his emotions aren’t as severe as they were back at the Garrison a few years ago. 

This is really happening. Allura is here and alive. The Castleship is still here, not exploded and destroyed like it was before, and everyone is okay. 

Still, why does he feel this ache in his chest that won’t go away?

Lance sat before the Blue Lion, his hand being held in a death grip by none other than Pidge. Hunk was by his side, pulling Lance into a side hug. Keith and Shiro were behind Lance, each offering a hand on both of his shoulders. 

He was surrounded by people who cared about him, yet he still felt so lonely. Coran was standing in front of the Blue Lion, giving the Altean version of an eulogy, and was donned in an outfit with pink accents. Lance distinctly remembered Allura saying once that pink is worn during mourning to honor fallen soldiers. Lance never thought any of them would have to wear pink for her.

Her funeral seemed to go by slowly and quickly, and Lance felt like he was watching himself from outside his body. Like he was a ghost. 

After the funeral ceremony ended, one by one, each person at the funeral expressed their condolences to the paladins. Lance couldn’t bring himself to stand up, greet them, and thank them for coming. He could barely manage to be here.

For a moment, he registered Shay’s face in front of his and another comforting, much bigger, hand on his shoulder. Lance watched her lips move, watched them mouth, I’m sorry.   

Lance managed a single thank you and went back to staring into space, wishing for everyone to pack up and leave so he could get on with what he was about to do. 

After what felt like hours, everyone besides his friends had left.

“Lance, you ready to go?” He hears and can’t recognize whose voice it is.

“I’m going to stay here for a little longer,” He struggles to say, not bothering to look at any of his friends. 

“We can stay here with you,” Another voice offered, and Lance recognized that one. Keith.

“It’s okay. I just want to be by myself,” Lance answered. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lance,” A voice that was not Keith’s said, and Lance wanted to roll his eyes. Lance really wished that they didn’t worry so much. It would make life so much easier.

“Can you please just leave?” Lance said, his voice rough, and was met with more silence.

“How much time do you need, Lance? We’ll come and check on you in a minute, but how long do you specifically need?” That was Keith’s voice.

“Can you give me an hour? I don’t want anyone to see me cry,” Lance answered, and he knows that was a tough blow, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He needed all of them, everybody, to leave him alone. Right now. 

Thankfully, his friends left after a while, and slowly, Lance stood up from the bench he and his friends were sitting on. He walked up to the Blue Lion, silently communicating his needs to her. 

Please take me away from here. Far, far away, He pleaded. Lance almost expects her to throw up a forcefield and alert his friends to his plans, but she doesn’t do that. She would never do that. 

Only for a little while, young one.

Her voice was soft and sad when she settled, and she quietly lowered her head to the ground, letting Lance enter. 

Lance sat down in the cockpit and leaned his head back against the head of the seat.

I don’t want to know where you’re taking me. Just surprise me.

Blue didn’t respond and obliged, darting into the night sky. She immediately opened a wormhole, and they entered through it. 

He didn’t care where Blue was taking him. He just wanted to be alone.

Chapter Text

Lance lost his father when he was nine. 

Lance’s father was sort of an eccentric man who hopped between jobs almost more than the average teenager. He was a charmer, a prankster, and someone who was surprisingly good at baking. Despite his many talents, though, he could never stay at just one job for long, for some odd reason or another. Still, his father was a hard worker and put his all into each and every job he worked, probably knowing that he would get the boot sooner or later. Lance admired him so very much.

Despite his father’s job-hopping, Lance’s family never really struggled with money, and that was probably due to his parents’ work ethic. His mother was a nurse and spent most of the week at the hospital, while his father either did freelance work or applied to yet another job. His father could never find it in himself to sit around and do nothing, which was probably the main reason his parents were still together. His mother loved his father so much, most likely because he was a hard worker, just like her. 

There came a time, however, when Lance’s father applied for a job, had to go through special training to get approved, and started working. His father came home every day with a smile on his face, claiming that he had found the job he wanted to work forever. When Lance had clumsily asked what it was at the young age of four, his father proudly told him he had officially become an astronaut. Lance had immediately been invested in his father’s journey, wanting to become just like him.

From that day on, Lance's father came home every day, sat his family down, and told stories about what happened at his job. From the mundane tasks he had to do with the printer to the anti-gravity training he had to go through, he told stories. His mother had been delighted that her husband finally found a job he liked and listened eagerly to each of his stories with love and fondness in her eyes. 

That’s why it confused the whole family when Lance’s father came home with a sad demeanor, saying that he had lost his job. Nobody picked him apart or tried to start a fight on why he lost it, as they could tell him losing the job tore the man apart. Lance, however, was curious and hesitantly asked why exactly he lost it. “It’s the way the universe works, hijo,” His father had said, forcing a tight smile on his face at the question. Lance had left it at that, but instead vowed to follow in his father’s footsteps and would make his father proud. His father’s tight smile turned into a real one.

From then on, Lance studied hard at school, asking his father for help when needed. Since his father decided to be a stay-at-home dad, his father was always around to help with homework. He had been more than happy to help Lance when he needed it. Even on church nights, when the family had left the house, the father-son duo always stayed behind, working on homework and other projects while his dad folded laundry on the side. His father was never really a religious person, not for any crude reasons. He just simply left his life in the hands of the universe. Lance followed suit. The family never said anything, and the two continued to do their own thing, washing dishes and doing math homework being the main source of bonding for the two. His father told Lance stories of his time as a baker, claiming that was probably his second favorite job after being an astronaut. Lance concluded that was probably why his father was so good at baking. He also told Lance stories of his time in grade school, and Lance felt such kinmanship with his father, delighting in the fact that the two had so much in common. He pretty much knew everything about his father at this point.

There was one thing Lance didn’t know about his father, however, and that was that his father had a heart condition. He didn’t find out about this until the day his father passed away. Lance would forever remember that day like it was yesterday.

His father had simply gone to the store, stating that he was picking up a cake for Lance and Rachel’s birthday. Lance had wanted to go with him, but his father heavily insisted that he stay home, claiming that he had a birthday present in the car that Lance wasn’t ready to see. Lance had relented, and his father left.

A few hours later, the police showed up at the front door, asking if there was an adult they could talk to. Lance knew that something was wrong, but his nine-year-old brain couldn’t really discern what it could possibly be. 

His mother had taken all five of her children to the hospital with her, calling a social worker to help with them. His mother had walked into his father’s hospital room, bringing her two eldest children in with her, Luis and Marco, who could actually understand what was happening. Lance, Rachel, and Veronica had stayed in the playroom, coloring pictures and playing with Legos while they waited for their family to tell them what was going on. They all had feelings, but didn’t want them to be true.

After what seemed like hours, his mother walked into the room, mascara running down her cheeks. Luis and Marco looked like they had been crying as well, holding onto each other like they were little kids again. His mother had knelt down in front of her three younger children, her eyes soft and sad.

“Do you remember how your Papa went to the grocery store?” She had asked, and Lance nodded.

“Yeah, is he okay? Did something happen while he was at the store?”

Lance’s mother looked like she was about to start crying again. “Something did happen. He had a heart attack while he was at the store,” She informed, taking shaky breaths. Lance crossed his arms uncomfortably, hugging himself. Something wasn’t right. 

“How bad is it?” Veronica had demanded, holding Rachel close to her since the youngest one was scared. Lance had been in denial, not seeing the forest for the trees.

“Is he coming home soon?” Lance asked after, and his mother’s eyes filled with tears. 

“No, he’s not coming home,” She answered, and Lance’s eyes widened.

“Why not?” 

Lance’s questions were taking a toll on his mother, and Luis took over, telling Lance the news while their mother told Veronica and Rachel.

“His heart is too damaged to keep going, Lance. They can keep him alive for a few more hours so that we can say goodbye. But, then he’ll be dead, Lance.”

Dead.

Lance hated that word. 

His brother had said the right thing because Lance finally got it through his thick nine-year-old head. His father was going to die soon. 

“Oh,” Lance had said simply and hugged his older brother, wanting to comfort him. Lance had wanted to cry, but he was nine. Lance was a big boy now; his father had told him so. He couldn’t cry, not right now. His family was hurting, and he needed to make it better. Luis held him tight, letting him know that crying was okay.

Lance didn’t cry about it until days later, when his father’s funeral was over. He had looked at all the pictures of his father working different jobs. The pictures had made him laugh at first. His father had many jobs and photos to show for it. He worked as a baker, a construction worker, a gas station attendant, a video store clerk, and, Lance’s favorite, an astronaut. There were many more jobs Lance’s father had worked, but Lance had been alive for these. These jobs would always hold a place in his heart. 

Lance had started crying without really knowing it, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked at the pictures of his dad with melancholy, processing the fact that he would never see his father again. His crying was almost silent.

But Lance’s uncle had noticed anyway and dragged his son along with him to Lance’s location. “You have no reason to be crying; you barely knew him,” His uncle had snidely said, and his cousin dared to laugh. 

Lance felt guilty for thinking that his cousin wouldn’t be laughing if it were his father who had died. Lance shouldn’t have been thinking that way. So he simply got up and left his uncle and cousin, who were shouting ugly remarks at Lance. 

He could never understand why his uncle stayed around since he seemed to hate his brother so much. His cousin wasn’t any better, but it wasn’t entirely his fault, in Lance’s opinion. 

His cousin loved his father and always looked up to him. Just like Lance had looked up to his.

“Lance!” 

Lance pops up his head, pushing his arms out in a panic and smacking at least two people in the face. He yelps and falls out of the chair he had fallen asleep in somehow. He doesn’t remember falling asleep in a chair. 

He groans at the hard, cold floor and opens his eyes to see two of his friends, both with very unhappy looks on their faces. “Sorry, Hunk. Keith,” Lance acknowledges, getting up from the very uncomfortable surface that is the floor.

“Dude, why are you sleeping in here? Allura and Coran showed us our bedrooms for a reason,” Hunk complains, and Lance feels terrible that there’s a bruise appearing on Hunk’s right cheek. Equally as bad as Keith’s, who has a matching one on his left cheek.

“I don’t know,” Lance responds honestly, dusting his clothes off. He truly doesn’t know how he ended up in the kitchen, of all places, since he clearly remembers falling asleep on the observation deck. 

Hunk’s eyes widen before they squint suspiciously at Lance. “Are you positively sure you’re not a bodysnatcher? Because all the clues are there–”

 “Hunk, for the last time, I’m not a bodysnatcher!” Lance retorts, and Hunk backs up, holding his hands up in surrender. There’s poorly hidden amusement in his eyes, however, and Lance knows that he’s just teasing.

Lance glances at Keith and is surprised to see Keith examining him, almost as if he’s a science experiment. Keith looks Lance in the eye for the first time and nods. “It’s either he’s a bodysnatcher, or he’s a sleepwalker.”

Lance wants to roll his eyes, but finds that Keith’s second option doesn’t sound as dumb as Lance expects. “That actually makes sense,” Lance agrees, and Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Being a bodysnatcher or being a sleepwalker?”

Lance shrugs, giving a cheeky grin. “What do you think?”

For some reason, Keith seems disconcerted by this, and he turns his head away, crossing his arms in a manner that resembles a little kid. 

“So, is there a reason you guys aren’t asleep?” Lance asks pointedly, mirroring Keith’s stance by crossing his arms. Lance still feels really tired, which is strange, considering he always feels energized by his naps. Something isn’t right.

“Keith wanted to talk to you about something and asked for help looking for you,” Hunk says honestly, shooting an unreadable look toward Keith.

Keith sighs. “Yes, I did. Thanks, Hunk.”

Keith’s voice has a weird tone, and Lance gives Keith a questionable look.

“My work here is done,” Hunk announces, doing a little bow before turning around and leaving the room. Keith facepalms but smiles anyway.

“I’m guessing you two finally talked,” Lance points out, feeling a sense of relief. Keith nods wordlessly, taking the opportunity to sit down on the floor. Lance glances at his chair before deciding to sit on the floor in front of Keith. “Something wrong?”

“I wanted to apologize for what I said when I left,” Keith says, but Lance waves it off.

“Dude, it’s fine. I understand.”

“No, that’s not good enough, Lance. I’m sorry for calling you and Hunk just people I went to school with. You were, and hopefully still are, my friends. You guys helped me through that dark time after Shiro went missing, and I didn’t really get to say thank you for that.” He takes a deep breath, then, as if to prepare himself. “So, thank you.”

Lance is speechless, feeling a knot in his stomach. “Keith,” He starts, finding his nerve. “You don’t need to thank me for that. It’s what friends do for each other.”

“I know. I still wanted to say thank you, though. And again, I’m sorry.”

“Keith,” Lance says gently, putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Stop apologizing. You did exactly what I would have done if I were in your shoes,” Lance admits honestly, and Keith scrutinizes him. 

“You would’ve gotten shit-faced drunk every night?” 

Lance shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant that I would’ve left too, after losing someone,” Lance says, and his words ring with honesty. He’s being truthful; that’s precisely what he did after Allura’s funeral. 

“You would have?” Keith asked, tilting his head as if he didn’t understand.

“Yeah, a lot of people like to run from their problems,” Lance answers, nodding his head sheepishly. “And I’m sorry too. I know your leaving wasn’t an easy decision to make, and I probably made it harder.” 

Keith shakes his head as if Lance’s apology isn’t necessary. “I’ve already forgiven you for that; no need to apologize for it.” 

Lance grins, and Keith smiles back. There’s a comfortable silence between the two, and Lance suddenly feels like he’s being examined again.

“Anyway, do you know what time it is?” Lance asks, feeling the strange urge to break the silence. 

Keith shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t read Altean clocks. I’m assuming it’s the middle of the night, considering everyone else but us is asleep.”

Lance rubs his eyes tiredly, remembering that they would have to try and form Voltron tomorrow. “We should get some rest. I feel we’ll have our work cut out for us tomorrow,” Lance says, and Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, since we just formed Voltron, Allura and Coran probably want us to train so we can get the hang of it.”

“I doubt that. Maybe they’ll let us have a break, so we can celebrate winning our first battle.”

The following day, Keith is severely proven wrong, as Allura and Coran wake everyone up at the asscrack of Altean dawn. Lance doesn’t fail to wake up this time, but everyone’s lateness still earns them all a scolding from Allura.

Lance still can’t find it in himself to look her in the eyes.

Hunk makes a few little complaints before Allura basically has enough and urges everyone to their Lions. “You all need to bond with your Lions and with each other!” She says. 

Lance has that part down, but the others… not so much.

Lance and Blue get the bonding part down to a science while the others struggle, their frustration evident. Lance can slightly feel the other Lions' emotions but finds that they’re very faint. He can feel that they’re trying to bond with their paladins again, but it’s hard when said paladins don’t remember them. Hurt is the emotion Lance feels the most emanating from the Lions, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. 

Lance can also feel his fellow paladins’ emotions, and their emotions consist of just plain annoyance. 

Fortunately, Lance can’t take all the credit for their annoyance, considering Shiro is bonding with his Lion just like he had done last time. Shiro and Black run circles around everyone the whole time, proving their places as the heads of Voltron. 

Lance resists the urge to goof off with Keith and instead focuses solely on Blue. Her emotions are steady and calm, suggesting that she knows her pilot knows what he’s doing. He feels confidence ooze from her and proves her right, going through the training exercises the Alteans are putting him through with ease. 

The diving exercise is a piece of cake since Lance isn’t badgering Keith this time around. Lance does his best to reassure Hunk not to quit during the exercise, but this proves pointless, considering Hunk immediately dips. Lance can faintly feel indignation from the Yellow Lion and sighs inwardly. 

Keith, Pidge, Shiro, and Lance manage to get through the exercise, although Coran claims through the comms that Pidge came up a bit early, and she doesn’t interject. She had been nervous, probably because of Hunk’s hesitation, but she did perfectly alright by Lance’s standards. He’s proud of her, to put it in broader terms.

“It’s weird,” Pidge begins as the Lions regroup.

“What do you mean?” Lance asks as he settles Blue down onto the flat ground.

“It’s like I can feel your emotions. I mean, I don’t know if they’re yours specifically, but they’re there if I focus on them,” Pidge reveals, and Lance can practically see her scratching her head in frustration.

“What kind of emotions are they?” Shiro questions, and Pidge hums. 

“Like they’re proud of me.”

There’s a silence, and Lance wonders inwardly if it’s because of him. He doesn’t remember being able to send out his emotions like this before. He feels a strong sense of confusion ring through his system and hears gasps through the comms.

“Like that!” Pidge exclaims. 

“That’s a good sign, Number Five! It means that everyone is beginning to bond with each other. Can you discern who exactly is sending the feeling out?” Coran asks, his tone clinical, and there’s more silence.

“Ummm,” Pidge starts, and she sighs frustratedly. “I-I don’t know.”

“Alright, well, that’s a start at the very least. Don’t get discouraged, paladins! This is a great start!”

Coran ushers them back to the Castle so they can get started on their mind-melding exercise, and Lance feels dread, rough and deep, and cutting through him like a hot knife. He didn’t mind everyone rooting around in his thoughts before, but now…

He has plenty to hide, and he has plenty he did not want the others to know. 

When he puts the mind-melding headband on, he neglects to think of what is really on his mind and instead focuses on his Lion and his friends. 

It goes the same as last time, with Pidge unintentionally ruining the exercise by thinking of her family. Lance feels terrible that he can’t take the heat for her, but he can’t reveal anything about what he knows about the future. It would probably screw everything up, and he doesn’t need that right now.

They go against the Gladiator, and even though Lance says some offhand remarks about them working together, everyone goes their separate ways in fighting it. “I love it when people don’t listen to me. It makes me feel great about myself,” Lance mutters sarcastically as Hunk gets thoroughly throttled and electrocuted. 

Pidge follows close behind and gets thrown in Hunk’s direction, dealing an unintentional hit to Hunk’s abdomen when she falls. Lance sighs and begins shooting at the Gladiator, providing a distraction so Keith and Shiro can get the jump on it. He says as much, and Keith and Shiro wordlessly agree by attacking the Gladiator from behind. 

However, Keith and Shiro are still heavily inexperienced in this regard and miss their chance. Keith gets swiped in the legs and falls to the floor in a heap while Shiro runs at the Gladiator. Shiro immediately stops, fear and panic flashing through his eyes.

“Shiro!” Lance shouts, watching as the Gladiator goes to make a final swing at Shiro.

The Gladiator wouldn’t kill Shiro, but it definitely wouldn’t help with his PTSD. If Lance can prevent any of his friends from getting hurt, he would do whatever it takes. Including jumping in front of them.

Lance severely underestimates how much it would hurt to get electrocuted by the Gladiator and even less the concussion that follows when the Gladiator throws him headfirst onto the floor. He doesn’t have Keith to cushion the blow this time and can feel blood oozing from the reopened cut on his head. 

He groans, rolling over to shield his head in case the Gladiator gets any ideas to finish him off. 

Of course, because the universe severely dislikes him for some reason, the Gladiator does get that idea and raises his robotic arms to electrocute Lance with the staff again. 

Luckily, the Gladiator gets shut down by Allura before it can cause any severe damage. 

“I could see there was an attempt,” Allura starts, her tone firm and edging on the line of anger. “But it wasn’t good enough. If this wasn’t a simulation, one of you could’ve been seriously injured or possibly even dead.”

Allura’s words sting, but her hands are gentle as she puts them on Lance’s head. “Are you alright, Lance?” She asks softly, and Lance flinches as he feels the beginnings of Altean magic flowing through his system. He hears Pidge gasp.

“Whoa, what are you doing to him?” Hunk asks, his voice full of surprise, and he can hear a slight laugh from Allura. 

Her voice sounds far away as she explains, and Lance tries his hardest not to think back to a particular moment, a specific event that involves Allura and the Red Lion. 

“You saved me.”

“I owed you one.”

He tries, and the moment eventually passes when she takes her hands off him. “Lance?” Allura’s voice urges.

He backs away from her wordlessly, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you,” He says, bringing his hand up to his forehead. All he feels is dried blood, but there’s no cut anymore.

“Are you sure?” Lance hears Shiro’s voice ask, feeling a hand grip his arm tightly as he’s helped up from the floor.

“Mm-hmm,” Lance hums and attempts to ignore all the weird stares he’s getting.

Why does he keep getting hurt so much? This didn’t happen last time, nor did the concussion. There’s a pattern hidden somewhere in this mysterious series of coincidences, but Lance can’t discern what it is yet.

“He may be feeling a bit disoriented. Altean magic has different effects on different species. I wouldn’t be too concerned unless he starts talking in a different language or behaving differently,” Allura excuses, and Lance feels gracious towards her. There is, however, a small part of him that’s almost tempted to prank his friends and start speaking Spanish or even Greek. 

Now is probably not the right time, though. His friends won’t appreciate the joke. Plus, it’ll probably earn him the title Goofball, a term Lance was never particularly fond of. He never saw that nickname in a positive light, anyway.

“What’s the next exercise?” Lance asks, hoping to change the subject, and Coran looks happy to answer.

“The final bonding exercise of the day!” Coran announces, and Lance closes his eyes, sighing. Finally. 

The bonding exercise that would help them form Voltron.

The food fight goes the same as last time, and it ends with everyone’s arms handcuffed together, laughing as food goo covers them almost from head to toe. This little moment is only a distraction from what’s coming. Lance knows, but the team doesn’t.

Sendak is coming, and he will be as vicious as he was the first time. Possibly even more vicious to Lance, considering the universe hates him at the moment, if the multiple unexpected injuries are anything to go by. Sendak will invade the Castle and be defeated and put in cryostasis. Then, when he inevitably escapes, he’ll continue to make everyone’s lives a living hell. 

He’ll invade Earth, and countless people will lose their lives. Those lives include Adam and his great-grandparents, and that’s just naming a few. 

Lance needs to put down Sendak for good. But he isn’t quite sure how he’s going to do so. Lance doesn’t really have a plan, but he thinks he’s ready for the emotional toll killing Sendak will take. He thinks anyway. It’s either Sendak’s life or countless other people’s. 

Lance is going with Sendak’s. 

Their first fight with the Robobeast goes a bit more smoothly than the first time, though there is nothing important to note or change other than Lance’s failed kick he manages to correct, thank goodness.

Shiro gains his memories back, and Lance can assume that he and Pidge have talked with each other, as there is less tension now than before.

Lance would be grateful if it weren’t just another sign that Sendak is getting closer. 

He’ll show his face soon, and Lance is ready to take the son-of-a-bitch down. 

He just isn’t sure how yet.

The next day, the team hosts the Arusians at the Castle, and Lance feels an eerie calm come over him. He’s shivering slightly, and he’s a little sweaty. He can’t find it in himself to laugh at Keith trying to beat up Klaizap or manage to wince at the taste of Nunvill. Lance continues to stand by his opinion that a drink that doubles as a hair tonic should not be advertised as ingestible. 

Lance doesn’t attempt to come up with a chant this time, leaving Keith and Hunk in uncomfortable silence. He takes another sip of Nunvill, noticing that it doesn’t taste of hotdog water and feet anymore.

It tastes like apprehension.

Lance getting injured spurs everything into motion, with Pidge realizing she’s an asset to the team and Hunk becoming fearless concerning Voltron. Plus, if Lance doesn’t get injured and the crystal didn’t explode, there would be no reason to go to the Balmera. Hunk would never have met Shay if these events hadn’t happened.

Lance can’t just change that.

He only hopes the universe doesn’t punish him too deeply, as it has been lately.

Lance gazes down into his cup of Nunvill, his shivering stopping. He has to do this. He can’t change this because what if it happens to one of his teammates instead?

He can’t take the risk.

Lance feels a hand on his shoulder and notices that one of the Arusians has climbed up his frame to see if he is okay. “Are you alright?” The surprisingly deep voice asks, and Lance nods his head, managing a fake smile. 

“Just need a minute to myself. Excuse me,” Lance says, grabbing the Arusian and gently setting them down on the floor. He unintentionally drops his cup of Nunvill as he climbs the stairs to the fated room. He hears several people call his name, but quickly shouts, “I’m fine!” before leaving their view. 

He stands and looks at the crystal, his heart stuttering at the thought of what’s about to happen. “Lance? Are you alright, my dear boy? You looked a little scared back there, like you’d seen a Yupper.”

Lance freezes at that before registering Coran’s question. “Yeah, I’m okay. What’s a Yupper, exactly?” Lance asks, his voice shaky, and he has a slight feeling that Coran knows precisely what’s going on with him. 

Coran sidles up next to Lance, giving him a knowing look. “I think we both know you know what a Yupper is, Lance.” That’s right. Lance does. 

“Yeah,” Lance confirms quietly, and Coran lets out a small sigh.

“I figured as much. You have a few small tells here and there that remind me of an old friend of mine. I would elaborate on what they are, but I fear you would stop doing them if I told you,” Coran explains, and Lance feels relief flowing through him like a cool stream.

Having someone know about this whole situation makes him feel better. Lance exhales, his lip quivering. 

“How much do you know?” He asks, finally meeting Coran’s gaze.

Coran simply shrugs. “Enough to know that this time-traveling is taking its toll on you, Lance. I don’t know the specifics of what happens in the future, but I’ve seen the effects of it on you, and it’s very similar to what an old friend of mine went through.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

Coran sighs, putting his arms behind his back. “I would, but your recent behavior tells me now is not the time or place for it, dear boy. Do you care to elaborate?”

Lance laughs, a quiet noise that isn’t as shaky as before and is, instead, calmer and clearer. “I would, Coran, under any other circumstances. But you said it yourself: Now isn’t the time or place for it.”

Coran seems intrigued by his answer, turning his head to look at Lance more clearly. His eyes are filled with curiosity. Lance wishes he could explain everything at this moment, but he’s distracted by the Rover lookalike entering the room.

“Coran, trust me when I say to leave the room and don’t look back,” Lance says firmly, and Coran’s expression changes from curiosity into confusion. “Please,” Lance whispers, watching as the Rover lookalike inches closer to them. 

Coran initially takes notice of this and gives Lance one more look before turning and walking out of the room. Lance sighs and turns to look at the Rover Bomb, finally making its way to the crystal. He watches as it turns red and begins beeping at a pace similar to Lance’s heart rate.

“Lance, we need you to come and talk to Pidge; she’s thinking about–” 

Shiro.

Lance turns to look at Shiro, who has somehow entered the room without him noticing. He feels an emotion akin to horror. 

He’s not supposed to be here. 

This isn’t supposed to happen.

“Shiro, look out!”

Lance tackles Shiro to the ground, and the world fades to black. 

Lance is staring at the sunset. The sunset looks familiar, but it isn’t in the right location as Lance remembers it. He remembers viewing this sunset alongside Shiro, or Kuron, more specifically. Kuron had apologized for yelling at Lance earlier that day, and Lance had felt relieved that he wasn’t mad at him.

But, even back then, a lurking dark feeling enveloped Lance, insisting that something was wrong with Shiro and that he wasn’t himself. Shiro confirmed his thoughts later on, but it did nothing to ease the sting when Shiro was revealed to be Kuron.

That memory seems so far away, yet it seems like it was yesterday.

Time-traveling is a scary thing, Lance surmises. 

“Lance.”

That’s Shiro’s voice. 

He looks to his right, noticing Shiro a few feet away.

This Shiro has a full head of white hair and a prosthetic arm that’s made from Altean tech. He’s in casual clothes, a white blouse with blue jeans. Lance has never seen him look this relaxed before.

Lance remembers this Shiro. It’s the Shiro he had grown to know in the future.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Shiro’s voice is comforting and echoey, like he’s in a massive room with nothing in it. This doesn’t really make sense, considering this whole encounter is taking place outside. Lance takes notice of his surroundings and discovers he’s on Arus, looking down at the Arusian village from the Castleship.

Lance suddenly feels too small in his own body and looks down at himself. He’s wearing a light blue button-up shirt paired with blue jeans. He’s a bit taller than he was before the crystal blew up. Wait.

Lance hesitantly brings a hand up to his face, feeling his cheekbones. “Oh,” He says, his voice empty as he realizes the Altean marks have returned. Lance feels something akin to desperation as his hand falls to his lap. He didn’t miss those marks.

He ignores the Shiro who’s with him, guessing him to be another clone. He’s probably dreaming right now, all of his memories coming together into a mixture of what’s real and what’s fake. Lance sits down, exhaling shakily as he looks out towards the sunset.

Shiro sits beside him, resting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Despite his initial reluctance to believe this is a clone of Shiro, Lance finds comfort in Shiro’s presence. He always has.

Lance clears his throat, wanting to ask a few questions. Shiro waits patiently as if he can read Lance’s mind and what he’s about to say.

“What’s happening? Why are we here?” Lance asks finally, and Shiro takes his hand off Lance’s shoulder, opting to think about his answer. 

“I can’t explain it in terms you’ll understand, Lance. We would be here all day if I tried,” Shiro says, his tone thoughtful as if he really is thinking about his answer, and that’s the best answer he can come up with.

“I’m not an idiot, Shiro. I know everyone thinks that, but–”

“I never said you were an idiot, Lance. Please trust me when I say I simply can’t explain it to you. I don’t understand it either, to tell you the truth.”

Lance pauses at that, scanning Shiro’s expression for a single hint of a lie. There isn’t any, and Lance feels relief at that. He’s glad he isn’t being lied to.

“Are we dead? Are we in the afterlife or something? Can you at least answer that?”

Shiro smiles wryly, and Lance immediately wishes he hadn’t asked. He has a feeling he isn’t going to like the answer. 

“Yes and no. If you haven’t noticed, Lance, I don’t have an Altean prosthetic, and you don’t have Altean marks in the timeline you were in before you woke up. What’s your hypothesis on the situation?”

Shiro’s tone isn’t exactly unkind, but it also isn’t soft. Shiro sounds just as confused as Lance is. 

Lance thinks hard.

“Maybe the old versions of ourselves are dead? I don’t know, man. Hypotheses are more Pidge and Hunk’s thing, not mine.”

Shiro’s smile is more genuine this time, as if Lance has hit the nail right on the head. 

“That’s not a bad guess. I was thinking along the same lines, too. I guess we won’t be sure until we find out what or who sent you back in time. I have a feeling that’ll take a while, though.”

Lance finds himself beginning to smile, too. 

“Yeah, that seems likely. Despite it all, I’m still going to try and save as many people as I can. I’m not sure how, but I think I’ll figure it out…eventually.”

Shiro lets out a laugh at that, and Lance smiles. He had never been able to talk to Shiro like this before. It’s bizarre to see Shiro seem so carefree and relaxed, as if he doesn’t care about what’s happening or why they’re here on Arus, of all places.

“That’s the best you can do, Lance. There’s no harm in doing the best you can to save the people you love. If I were in your shoes, I would do the exact same thing.”

“I’m thinking about killing Sendak. Would you kill him if you were in my shoes?”

Shiro pauses, thinking about Lance’s question.

“If I knew the things he had done and the things he would go on to do,” Shiro closes his eyes, no doubt thinking about Adam. “I would. I hate admitting it, but I believe I would. My question is: Do you think you’ll survive killing him? Do you think you’re capable of committing such an act?”

Lance looks at Shiro blankly.

“Killing someone, no matter if they’re good or bad, can do significant damage to your psyche, Lance. Please don’t do so unless you’re sure it’s the right thing.”

Lance begins to feel light-headed, and Shiro’s image splits into two. “What’s happening?” Lance asks, his voice slurring as if he’s drunk. Shiro holds Lance steady. 

“Breathe, kiddo. Just breathe. They’re almost here.”

Lance opens his eyes and examines his surroundings through blurry vision. Someone is holding his hand. “Just keep breathing, kiddo.”

That’s Shiro’s voice. 

“Shiro,” Lance says, his voice quiet and rough, and he starts coughing when he realizes his throat is scratchy. “Lance, you gotta conserve your energy. You’re not in a good position right now.”

Lance notices that Shiro sounds fearful and focuses on what he’s feeling. 

He’s trapped under something. His legs are definitely broken, and his right arm feels dislocated. His chest feels like it's on fire, and Lance knows that he is sincerely screwed, to put it mildly. 

Lance could really go for some water right now.

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

Sendak. 

“Sentries, take that chunk of crystal off of him. I want to watch him squirm.” Of course. Lance has been crushed under a big piece of the damn crystal. Just his luck. He groans painfully, sighing in both relief and agony as the crystal is lifted off him. What else is the universe going to tack on at this point?

“I think I need to take Voltron’s Sharpshooter out of commission. For good.”

Quiznak. 

Lance grunts tiredly, pushing both of his elbows into the ground to try and crawl away, hoping that, by some miracle, his friends make it in time. 

He feels a kick to his abdomen and falls to the ground. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and now, all Lance can feel is searing hot pain, branding itself into every part of Lance’s body. Shiro’s voice calling for him sounds far away, muffled as if he’s being held underwater.

Lance feels himself begin to black out again, but is immediately brought back by the sensation of someone kicking him in the face. He feels a Galra hand push his face into the ground and hears Sendak’s voice whisper to him. 

“I remember when you shot me last time, maggot. It hurt quite a bit.”

Lance’s eyes widen. Sendak remembers? How?

“I won’t let it happen again.” Lance hears Sendak’s arm revving up with energy, and Lance closes his eyes. He can’t tell if he’s hoping his friends save him or if he’s accepting his fate. Maybe it’s a mixture of both. 

Thankfully, the former happens, and Sendak is tackled off of him by none other than Keith. Only Keith would be reckless enough to pull off a maneuver like that. Lance gazes through bleary eyes at his teammates, watching them all work together to try and cover each other’s backs. 

Lance looks around, feeling that his bayard isn’t too far from him. He had it on him before the explosion. The only thing he needs to do now is to find the damn thing. 

He shoots his hand out to his side, hoping blindly that it never left him. 

He’s thankfully proven right.

Lance conjures up his bayard, which now takes the shape of a sniper rifle. This is for the best, leaving no chance for Sendak to come back and kill them. So why is he hesitating?

Lance takes one glance at Shiro and sees the white-haired man he was just talking to a few minutes ago. 

“Please don’t do so unless you’re sure it’s the right thing.”

This is the right thing. It has to be. 

Lance sits up and lines up his shot, putting Sendak’s head in his scope with practiced ease. He thinks of Adam, his family, his friends, and all who have suffered at the hands of Sendak. Still, he feels guilty.

He pulls the trigger anyway.

Silence fills the room, and Lance falls backward, his bayard falling from his grasp. He hears several of his friends calling for him, telling him to stay awake, but he almost can’t find it in him to listen. 

“Lance,” He hears a soft voice utter his name, and someone is cradling his head. Lance raises his hand, and his suspicion is confirmed when someone immediately grabs it. It’s Keith. 

Lance is probably delirious when he thinks this, but he’s really glad it’s Keith holding his hand right now and not Allura’s. He can’t feel guilty about that. 

“We did it, Mullet. We make a good team, don’t we?” 

The words fall from his lips quietly, but he knows Keith has heard him if the relieved smile is anything to go by. 

Lance wants to say more, perhaps a joke to lighten the room, but can’t even hold his head up. “I think I’m gonna take a nap now,” Lance informs, and Keith’s expression changes to worry.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lance.” 

“I do.”

And with that, Lance promptly falls asleep, letting the darkness envelop him as it always does.

Chapter Text

It’s dark.

It’s scarily quiet, and Lance, for some reason, can’t open his eyes. His body feels like it’s entrapped in jello, and his body aches with a pain he can’t quite identify. 

Then, he hears what he thinks are footsteps approaching and tries his best to strain his ears and listen. Lance hears voices.

“How much longer is he going to be? He should be out by now, right?”

That’s Pidge.

“Hopefully not much longer, Number Five. But please remember, Lance did get seriously injured. His body will need quite a bit of time to recuperate.”

That’s Coran. 

“How long are we talking?”

Keith.

“Possibly a few more quintants, according to his scans.”

Allura.

“Right…Can someone remind me how long a quintant is again?”

Hunk. 

Lance’s hearing starts to fade out as Coran explains, and he feels queasy all of a sudden. Right. He’s in a healing pod. Lance got injured a bit more than he did last time during the explosion, so obviously, he will need more time in the pod. That’s… not reassuring. Are his injuries really that bad?

“His scans are saying there are spikes of brain activity. He can likely hear us.”

Yes. He can. 

Lance wishes he could just answer them, assure them that he’s alright so they can be on their merry way, but he can’t for obvious reasons.

He hears his friend’s voices again but can’t tell what they’re saying. Are they talking to him right now? Are they talking to each other? What are they saying?

There’s a quiet sound right in front of Lance, and he thinks faintly that someone must’ve pressed their hand to the pod's glass. Then he hears Shiro’s voice, so loud and clear that it almost sounds like Shiro’s right there, with no glass to separate them. 

“Lance. You’ll be okay. Everyone is okay, and we need you to get better. We’re all waiting for you.”

Lance feels relief, glad to know that Shiro himself is not stuck in a healing pod. But he can’t help but feel guilty that he’s making them all worry like this. 

‘You shouldn’t be waiting around for me like this. I don’t deserve you guys,’ Lance wants to say. ‘There are more important things to worry about.’

Lance feels his mind drifting, and he lets it, hoping that these next few quintants go by in an instant and he’ll be back on his feet. He doesn’t want to miss Hunk seeing Shay again after all.

When Lance comes to, he’s sitting outside the Castleship again, on a large deck that gives a good overview of the Arusian village. Instead of seeing the sunset as he did before, the sun is already down, and the stars in the night sky are shining brightly. If Lance looks closely enough, he can make out five stars that each match the color of each of the Lions of Voltron.

Lance looks around and notices that he’s lying down on the deck, his hands interlocked and resting on his abdomen.  It almost looks like I’m ready for a funeral, Lance thinks, bemused, and moves his hands to behind his head, trying to relax now that he’s here. Lance realizes there’s no pain and feels a sense of unease flood him. While the painlessness is nice, it gives a sense of foreboding that leaves Lance slightly shaking.

Suddenly, he feels a shift near him and looks to his left, surprised to see Shiro again. He’s lying beside Lance just a few feet away and mimicking Lance's position. When did he get there? 

 Shiro’s not looking at him, choosing instead to examine the stars. 

“Did you know I was struck by lightning when I was nine?” White-haired Shiro asks all of a sudden, and Lance arches a brow.

“Uh, what?”

Shiro nods as if that’s a casual sentence you tell people every day. “Yeah. I don’t really remember the circumstances in which it happened, but it definitely happened. I especially remember the hospital stay afterward—the lime-green jello cups and the soap opera reruns,” Shiro shudders. “I even recall the nice nurse who stayed with me until I fell asleep every night. I’d like to say that getting struck by lightning was one of the worst things to happen to me, but it really wasn’t if you consider everything else that's happened. It might’ve actually been one of the better things to happen to me.” Shiro sits up, stretching his arms in front of him as he talks. Lance follows suit, not wanting to miss a single detail of Shiro’s story.

Lance leans forward, curious and eager to listen to Shiro reminisce, his expression so freeing that it looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?”

Shiro sighs and looks dreamily into the distance, clearly recalling something important. “It’s where I first met Adam,” He confesses, and Lance’s eyes widen slightly.

“You’ve known each other that long?”

Shiro looks pained and softly corrects him. “We did know each other that long, yes. I had to stay under observation in the hospital because they noticed something weird about my scans,” Shiro looks at his prosthetic arm as he says this. “Meanwhile, Adam was also under observation because something was wrong with his heart. We were in the same room with only a curtain to separate us.”

The white-haired man smiles and sits back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “After around a week or so, Adam introduced himself and asked to trade jello cups since he hated the lime flavor, and I had the last cherry jello. I didn’t like lime either, but it seemed like he needed cherry more than I did, so I gave it to him.” He smiles then.“I’ll never forget the adorable crooked smile he gave me that day. He was so happy, and I think from that point on, my heart was stolen,” Shiro says seriously, and Lance could cry at how heartfelt Shiro sounds talking about Adam. Shiro had seriously found the man he would marry at nine years old.  

“I tried to keep in touch with him after we got discharged from the hospital, but there’s only so much you can do when your family moves around a lot. I sent him postcards with stupid little jokes on them in case he needed cheering up. He never wrote me back, but I think that had more to do with his family than him just not wanting to talk to me.”

Lance frowns as he vaguely remembers the day before Shiro and Adam’s wedding, how Adam had said that his mother believed he should’ve settled down with a good Christian girl. He agrees with Shiro’s assessment of the situation. 

“Eventually, though, he was able to write me a single letter back. It said that he applied for the Galaxy Garrison,” Shiro says, smiling so that his dimples show ever so slightly. “It was fate, in my opinion, considering I was just about to send him a postcard telling him about my own application to the Garrison.”

Lance listens eagerly for the rest of the story, but it never comes. What comes instead is a short sentence.

“And then you know the rest.”

Lance scoffs in disbelief. “I want to hear the rest! What was it like when you saw each other again? Did you tell him you applied, too? When did you confess? I need to know the deets, Shiro!” Lance pleads, and Shiro laughs, a soft sound compared to Lance’s complaining. 

“Some things should remain a mystery, kiddo. You don’t need to know everything. Some secrets need to be kept,” Shiro shrugs, but he has a teasing smile on his face. 

Lance sighs exaggeratedly but nods all the same. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your secrets,” He says, and Shiro grins. Lance realizes something.

“Does killing Sendak not save Adam? Is that why you’re talking about him like that in the past tense?” Lance asks, his voice wavering, and Shiro looks confused. He appears to be processing the question. 

Then he starts waving his hands as if trying to convince a child not to cry. “No, no, no, no, Lance. It’s just– how do I–” Shiro keeps cutting himself off, trying to decide how to phrase this. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. It’s not like you doing something in the timeline you’re currently in creates a domino effect in the timeline you’re from. Does that make sense?”

Lance stays silent, registering Shiro’s answer. He supposes that makes sense, to a certain degree, anyway. “So, is the reality I’m from gone, then? Is that why you’re here?”

Shiro looks frustrated. “I can’t say anything, Lance. I’m sorry. This doesn’t exactly make sense to me, either.” 

Lance can tell that Shiro is telling the truth and loosens his posture, trying to soften his features. He shouldn’t be mad or upset with Shiro, as it obviously looks like he had nothing to do with this whole situation. 

“Are you even real?”

Silence hangs in the air before Shiro gets the worst look on his face. “Lance, I know this is–”

Lance holds up a hand, trying not to say something he might regret later. “I just don’t know what to make of all this, Shiro. I don’t remember this–” Lance gestures to their surroundings. “Or you dressed like that–” He motions towards Shiro. “So, therefore, that leaves one conclusion: none of this is real, and you’re just a figment of my imagination, right?”

Shiro looks hurt and doesn’t say anything for a while. 

A couple of minutes go by, and finally, Shiro sighs. “When you wake up, ask the other me how he and Adam met. I guarantee he’ll tell you the exact same story I just told you. We’re different versions of each other, but we’re also one and the same. We have the same memories, the same goals, and the same outlooks,” Shiro directs, and Lance tilts his head, slightly confused. 

“There’s no way a figment of your imagination could make up that story about how Adam and I first met. If it did, then you’re a psychic,” Shiro says, shrugging. Lance tries to crack a smile and thinks about Shiro’s reasoning. It does make sense. However, there’s still a tiny tug of doubt that won’t let go, and that’s what’s keeping Lance from actually believing this.

“So, if you’re right, then what does that make this? The afterlife? Purgatory? Heaven?”

Shiro shakes his head, neglecting to answer, and Lance feels irritated. He’s tired of not getting any straight answers. 

Lance stands up and looks out over the Arusian village. He hasn’t actually seen any Arusians in the two brief times he’s been here, but he thinks that may be part of the charm of this place. There are no distractions, and there are certainly no battles. It’s just Shiro and Lance talking. 

“Will I see any of the others if I enter this place again?” Lance asks and braces himself for another round of silence.

He is pleasantly surprised when Shiro responds, “You might. I hope you don’t, though, considering that would mean you would be put on death’s door yet again. That’s the condition of this, Lance. You have to be so close to death that you can choose whether to stay or go back.”

Lance feels weary at the fact that the explosion put him in this situation when it previously did not.

“I know I can speak for the others and myself when I say that everyone would want you to go back. You’ve been given an amazing opportunity to change things and make them right. If any of us were in your shoes, we would take it.”

Shiro stands up and pats Lance on the shoulder, and Lance oddly finds it kind of reassuring. “However, I don’t think any of us would blame you if you did choose to stay. We all understand on a molecular level how tiring all of that can be and how it can drain you.”

Lance smiles for the first time in a while. “I think it’ll take quite a bit for me to want to stay. As much as I love you guys, I want to try and prevent as many bad things from happening as possible. And that includes you dying.”

Shiro’s eyes widen at this. 

“Do you have a specific plan in mind?” 

Lance thinks for a moment and then shakes his head.

“Unfortunately, no. But I’ll get there. I just… don’t know how yet.”

Shiro’s expression brightens at Lance’s honest yet optimistic confession. “I hope you do, buddy.”

Lance pops his head up, suddenly remembering something.

“Can you tell me how, exactly, you died?”

Shiro looks affronted at this, and Lance immediately feels terrible. “I’m sorry, that was kinda crass.”

Shiro, however, waves the apology away. “It’s fine, Lance. If it’ll help, then I’ll tell you. From what I can remember, I think I was… vaporized?”

Lance winces at the image and starts spewing apologies. This was stupid, invasive, and downright insensitive, and Lance regrets everything. Shiro actually starts laughing, which must be a trauma response or something, because why is he laughing??

“Lance, seriously. I’m fine now, which is what matters,” Shiro reassures, and Lance squints. “I think there was a moment during the battle where I just sort of left my body, if that makes sense? Black restored my consciousness, but I think by that point, it was too late. Black kept my consciousness alive, but I have no idea what happened to my physical body.”

Lance holds a hand to his chin, pondering. When Shiro died the first time, the biggest source of confusion was where exactly his body went. Shiro’s body disappearing kept hope alive for the Paladins that he was still alive, and that’s how Kuron was able to infiltrate their ranks. They had no reason to believe that Kuron would be a spy for Haggar, and that’s the part that really fucks Lance up. Did Haggar herself destroy Shiro’s body in order to go through with her plans with Kuron, or did the whole battle with Zarkon just work out in her favor? So many questions and so many nonexistent answers; It’s enough to leave Lance’s head spinning. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Lance shakes his head. “I honestly have no idea, either. Hopefully, it’ll all make sense the closer we get to the… y’know?” 

Shiro seems a little discouraged by this but nods anyway. “I think that you’re capable, Lance. At the very least, if I die, you’ll know enough not to let Kuron get into your heads. That’s the most I can really ask for, right?”

“I’ll make sure we don’t even hear of Kuron, okay? That’s how serious I am about this.” 

Shiro frowns. “Just don’t put yourself in needless danger, okay? Lately, you’ve been a little more reckless with your life, which isn’t very comforting. I have a feeling you’ll do something extremely impulsive when the time comes.”

Lance shrugs, not really bothering to deny Shiro’s claim. Yeah, he probably would. 

Slowly, the two of them watch as the sun begins to rise, and Lance feels a familiar lightheadedness take over. Lance blinks multiple times, trying to clear his vision. He still wants to talk to Shiro a bit more. He doesn’t want to wake up yet.

Then, the sun seems to stop in one place, no longer rising, and Lance looks at it imploringly. What does that mean?

Shiro seems to read Lance’s mind and ruffles the boy’s hair. 

“You could stay here if you wanted. But if you do, you won’t wake up and fall out of the healing pod.”

Lance looks up at Shiro in wonder. All it took was for him to think, I don’t want to wake up yet?

“You’ll have to stay here forever, and you’ll be forced to listen to all the dad jokes I’ll make to torture you for staying,” Shiro says, and his tone is honest. 

Lance cracks a grin and finally laughs, a sound so tinkling and almost rare now that it makes him feel melancholic. Shiro joins in on the laughter, and for just a moment, the world feels peaceful like this. The sun shines a light on Arus so perfectly that Lance finds he wouldn’t mind staying here. It’s bright and beautiful, and there’s no pain here. Lance and Shiro could just sit and talk forever and just bask in the peacefulness that resides in this place, but does Lance honestly want that? A tiny part of him does, he realizes. But he can’t.

“I guess that makes my choice for me, huh?” Lance acquiesces, and Shiro nods knowingly. Lance sighs and spreads his arms wide. Shiro glances at him, a slight look of confusion evident on his features.

“I want at least one hug from you before I wake up, okay?” Lance says. He notices that the sun starts to rise again and almost wants to mourn the stillness of the scene he was just in. That feeling doesn’t last long. “I think a hug between us is long overdue,” Lance points out, and Shiro laughs again before spreading his own arms.

When Lance hugs Shiro, he notices that the latter’s arms are strong and can wrap him up in a bear hug that’s quite similar to Hunk’s. However, the sole defining characteristic Lance notices is that Shiro is cold. Shockingly cold, almost like an ice cube. Lance shivers, and Shiro hugs him just a little tighter. 

“That’s one of the side effects of staying here, Lance. You’re always cold, and you’re never able to warm up,” Shiro says into Lance’s hair, and Lance hugs back even tighter, vainly wanting to transfer any warmth he has left over to Shiro. Judging by the cold reaction, no dice.

The hug lasts a few minutes, and Lance watches the sunrise the whole time, resting his head on Shiro’s shoulder. 

Shiro’s hug reminds him of his brothers’ hugs. Solid and comforting, bordering on protective. However, they were usually warm rather than ice-cold. Lance doesn’t really mind the cold part anymore.

After the sun fully rises, they part and softly smile at each other. Lance wants to say something, anything, but finds that any phrases he thinks of are cliché. 

Shiro, again, seems to read his mind and puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “This isn’t goodbye, Lance. Hopefully, it’s a see you later.”

Lance feels his eyes begin to droop and starts to fall forward. Shiro catches him, and Lance manages to say,

“See you later, Shiro.”

Warm, strong arms embrace Lance as he falls out of the healing pod, and he sighs in relief. 

“You’re okay, buddy. I gotcha,” Lance hears Shiro say, and he feels himself being pulled to sit down on the steps that are just a few feet away.

Lance feels an even more familiar ache flood his body, and he revels in it. He thinks this feels just a bit better compared to not feeling anything at all. He hisses in pain as he sits down and looks up to see Shiro looking at him carefully. He appears to be checking to see if Lance is injured anywhere else that the healing pod didn’t manage to fix. 

Lance tries to smile reassuringly, but finds even that painful and ducks his head down. “How are you feeling, kiddo?” Shiro asks, and Lance isn’t even sure how to answer that. So, he just goes for an honest answer. 

“I feel achy, and my chest hurts a little. My legs still feel a little sore, but other than that, I think I’m okay.”

Shiro has the audacity to look guilty, and Lance starts shaking his head. “No, no, no, no, no– don’t go feeling guilty, Shiro. I’m fine. We’re both alive, and we’re okay. Nothing to feel bad about.”

Shiro looks a bit relieved by this and pats Lance’s shoulder lightly, taking care not to upset any of Lance’s limbs that are still sore. “Please just let me thank you, okay? Thank you for saving my life, Lance. If I could, I would go back in time to make it to where it was me instead. I know getting crushed under a giant crystal doesn’t exactly feel nice.”

Lance smiles at the irony of that statement and thinks about his response. “You’re welcome,” Lance says plainly, wanting to say a bunch of other things that Lance thinks would leave Shiro looking very perturbed.

“I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Rather I’d die than you, right?”

“I’ll probably do it again.”

Yeah, none of those sentences end in a scenario where Shiro isn’t concerned. 

Shiro pats Lance on the head this time, and Lance finally notices that none of the others are there. He tries not to feel hurt by this and keeps his expression neutral.

“The others were here every night, waiting for you to wake up. It took Hunk complaining about his back for the eleventh time for me to just tell them to go sleep in their rooms. I promised to let them know if you woke up,” Shiro informs, and Lance’s lips quirk upwards. Then he frowns. 

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?”

Shiro looks indecisive, as if he doesn’t know how to answer this.

“Seven quintants, which translates to one week if I’m correct,” Shiro answers. 

Lance nods, slowly processing. If he recalls right, he was only in the pod for a day or two last time before he was let out, and even then, he didn’t feel this awful after getting out. 

“Are you hungry? I’m not very well-versed in the art of cooking, but I can try and make something to eat,” Shiro offers, and Lance nods again.

“Just a little.”

Shiro is not lying when he says he’s not well-versed in cooking, considering the food goo he gives Lance is a lot lumpier than it should be, but Lance can’t find it in himself to care. He takes small bites, trying not to wince at the awful texture. He does wonder, though, how exactly you can mess up food goo. It comes out of a machine, doesn't it?

“Do you want me to tell the others you’re awake?” Shiro asks, and Lance is oddly touched. He’s a little surprised that Shiro didn’t immediately alert them to his awakening, but finds that he really appreciates the space. 

“I just need a little time to myself before I’m smothered. Hunk is a big worrywart, and while his hugs are very comforting, they also have the capacity to kill you,” Lance jokes, but Shiro doesn’t find it funny.

“He has a good reason to worry about you, Lance. You were on death’s door a week ago, and Coran said he was pretty sure you stopped breathing at some point,” Shiro says firmly, although his voice wavers near the end of his sentence. 

Lance suddenly finds it difficult to swallow. “How bad was it exactly?”

Shiro rubs the back of his neck, thinking about his answer. “From what Coran said, both your legs were broken, one of your arms was dislocated, and he said you had a case of the snark plasums, which I’m guessing is an Altean term for a collapsed lung.”

Holy fuck.

“Oh,” Lance manages to choke out and puts down the spoon he was eating with.

“Yeah,” Shiro says, sighing. 

“Do you remember anything from that night?” Shiro asks, and Lance thinks back. He remembers bits and pieces, but nothing stands out to him right away. He shrugs, and Shiro nods in understanding. “You wanna talk through it, see if you can put the pieces together?”

Lance wordlessly agrees and closes his eyes, trying to visualize what happened that night. All he gets is a headache that feels like it’s splitting his head open, so Shiro calls it off, insisting that he’ll tell Lance what happened from beginning to end.

“Okay, buddy. We’re gonna try to lift this thing off you, okay?”

The boy, crushed under the big hunk of crystal he’s under, nods once and swallows roughly at what’s to come.

Lance is barely awake, a glazed look in his eyes that suggests he probably doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Shiro winces at the expression, patting Lance’s shoulder gently in a vain attempt to comfort the boy. Lance doesn’t flinch even at this, which stirs up more worry between the Paladins, namely Hunk.

“This is bad; this is really, really bad, guys,” Hunk rambles over and over again, his hands shaking as he tries to get a good grip on the crystal that’s currently crushing the bottom half of his best friend. 

“It is bad,” Keith agrees unhelpfully, which causes Shiro to give him an unimpressed look. Keith shrugs, trying to give off a careless demeanor, but it’s no use. Shiro can tell from the tremor in Keith’s shoulders that he’s just as scared as Hunk is. 

“Okay, everyone. On the count of three. One, two, three!” Shiro counts out, and the group strains to lift the crystal. Muscles straining and voices going hoarse, they can tell it’ll be no use. The highest they can get the crystal off the ground is an inch or two, if anything. Lance lets out a quiet whimper, gritting his teeth at the feeling of his body being crushed again when the team lets the crystal back down. They all mutter out senseless apologies for causing him pain, but Lance isn’t registering any of them. He sighs tiredly and throws his head to the side as if he’s frustrated.

“You okay, kiddo?” Shiro asks, knowing that it’s a dumb question, but still, he needs Lance to answer him.

“Does it look like he’s okay, Shiro!?” Keith hisses out of anger, and Shiro sighs. 

“What’s happening?” Lance rasps out, his voice hoarse and sounding breathless. Shiro looks just a tiny bit glad to finally get an answer from the poor teenager and kneels back down to him, trying to capture his gaze. Lance locks eyes with Shiro, and he seems afraid. “Why are we here?”

Shiro frowns. “He might be delirious,” Coran offers mutedly, his expression full of an emotion that Shiro can’t decipher.

“Yeah, it seems like it. We need to come up with a plan. Can we get him to an infirmary?” Shiro asks the princess, but she shakes her head, her expression grim. 

“Without the crystal, the Castle has no power,” She informs, looking down at Lance with worry.

“I hate to say it, but in the shape he’s in, he won’t have long if we don’t figure out a game plan,” Keith says determinedly, and Shiro notices that he’s avoiding looking at Lance. He’s trying to detach himself from the situation so he can focus on the bigger picture, Shiro realizes. 

After a beat of worrying silence, the Arusian chief comes in, informing them that their village is in danger. The princess notifies everyone that the Lions are trapped in the hangar and that they’re currently defenseless.

“This is bad,” Hunk says plainly. 

“We have to get a new crystal to get the Castle working again,” Coran starts. “But, to get a new crystal, we need a ship.”

Pidge perks up at that as if enlightened. “The pod I was loading, we can use that! I left the bay door open.”

Coran nods, glancing over at Lance in concern. “I can use the scanner in the pod to see if there’s a Balmera nearby,” Coran switches his gaze over to Hunk, his voice growing deeper in authority. “Hunk, you come with me. I’ll need someone big to help me carry the crystal.”

“A Balmera?” Hunk voices, staring at Lance. 

Coran pats him on the shoulder, urging him to get a move on. “It’s where the crystals come from. I’ll tell you about it on the way!” 

Coran, Hunk, and Pidge make their way to the pod, their footsteps echoing as they run. 

“I’ll go see what’s happening at the Arusian village,” Keith says, and Allura backs him up, deciding to go with him.

“I’ll go with you, Keith. I brought this on the poor Arusians.”

Shiro stays next to Lance determinedly, even grasping his hand to bring the teen comfort. Lance says nothing. 

“I’ll tend to Lance and stand watch over the Castle,” Shiro decides and turns his head to look back at Lance when Keith and Allura leave. 

Lance’s eyes are fluttering as if he’s fighting sleep. He shivers, gripping Shiro’s hand tightly. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m right here, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Shiro reassures and tries to ignore how cold Lance’s hand is. 

This is bad.

Shiro stays with Lance for what seems like hours, keeping an eye out for any intruders who’ll break into the Castle. He would go for a walk around the Castle, but Lance isn’t exactly in a position to be moved around at the moment. And Shiro doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Lance by himself. 

“Well, isn’t this a cute little scene? I almost feel sad that I put the Blue Paladin in such a state,” A grating voice announces their entrance, and Shiro’s Galran hand lights up in response.

“Sendak,” Shiro hisses angrily and hesitantly lets go of Lance’s hand. He stands up and goes into a protective stance. 

“Stand aside. I have a few matters that I need to discuss with your Sharpshooter,” Sendak says, narrowing his eye at Shiro.

“Over my dead body,” Shiro grits. Sendak smirks.

“Then so be it.”

The two engage in a bloody fight, mainly on Shiro’s side, who is outmatched. Sendak seems obviously more experienced in this, and Shiro nearly gets beaten to death. Sendak taunts him about his arm, and this enrages Shiro to the point where he straight up charges him, catching Sendak off guard. 

The fight ends with the two each having a Galran hand to their neck. Shiro is very oddly tempted to just end Sendak, not caring if he loses his life in the process. Then, he hears a faint whimper and looks over to where Lance is.

Haxus currently has a shoe pressed heavily into Lance’s neck, and Shiro realizes that could easily mean Lance’s death if he shifts his foot just so to where it breaks his neck. 

“Let him go, or your friend won’t make it,” Haxus sneers arrogantly, pressing his shoe even harder into Lance’s neck. Shiro’s arm drops, and he feels something clobber him from behind. He lands right in front of Lance and struggles to keep his eyes open. Shiro needs to stay awake, and he needs to keep Lance safe. 

He feels so guilty when his eyes shut against his will and silently apologizes to Lance, hoping he’ll still be there when Shiro wakes up. 

Shiro eventually wakes up and is relieved to see that Lance is still alive, although a bit winded. His breathing is unsteady, and when Shiro checks, Lance’s pulse is also a bit thready. He’s interrupted from Lance’s wellness check by Sendak’s voice, yelling into the communication line. “You will turn yourself over to me immediately!” He demands of the person on the other line, and Shiro distantly thinks of his fellow paladins as he sits up, taking in his surroundings. He’s not tied up by any means, considering they probably weren’t counting on him waking up. 

Shiro tries to stand up but finds his legs aren’t working like they’re supposed to. He looks down and sees nothing physically wrong with them, but then he’s dealt with the Galra before. They might’ve given him a paralytic serum so he wouldn’t be able to struggle and fight back. Shiro knows perfectly well how good the Galra’s paralytics are. The Druids didn’t take any chances.

He curses under his breath, and Sendak notices that Shiro is awake, giving him an ugly grin.

“Never!” Pidge’s voice yells from the other side of the comms, and Shiro sighs in relief at the sound of her voice. At least she’s okay.

“Well, then, maybe your leader can convince you.”

Oh boy. Shiro did not like the sound of that. 

“What do you want?” Shiro feigns ignorance, hoping that somehow, hitting Shiro isn’t anywhere on Sendak’s to-do list.

“Your friend wanted to hear from you,” Sendak answers and raises his Galran arm. 

Shiro braces himself for the incoming hit and is almost relieved when it doesn’t come. Then, he hears a strong spark of electricity emit from Sendak’s arm, and he curses under his breath. “Pidge, don’t listen to–”

Shiro’s agonized screams cut off his sentence, and he briefly hopes Pidge doesn’t fall for this bastard’s convoluted ways of getting what he wants. 

Shiro passes out again and hopes that the others have come up with a plan because the way this is going, he’s not going to be alive long enough to relay anything to them. 

Shiro wakes up this time to the sound of Lance groaning in pain and looks over to see Lance slowly waking up.

He grabs Lance’s hand in another effort to comfort the boy and wishes that it were himself in Lance’s position instead. 

“Breath, kiddo. Just breathe. They’re almost here,” Shiro commands softly. Shiro hopes that what he just said is not a lie. Lance grasps his hand back tightly, and Shiro is taken aback at how much strength is behind it. Lance looks…determined.

“Just keep breathing, kiddo.”

“Shiro,” Lance says, his voice scratchy and rough. Suddenly, Lance starts coughing, and that seems to attract Sendak’s very unwanted attention.

Shiro curses. “Lance, you gotta conserve your energy. You’re not in a good position right now.”

Lance finally takes note of this and lifts his head slightly to look at himself. Shiro worries that Lance will pass out again, but notices Lance’s expression. 

Lance seems more annoyed than anything at his predicament. 

“Ah, look who’s awake,” Sendak says, his voice amused, and Shiro feels himself being pulled back by a sentry. Did Sendak have this many sentries before Shiro passed out?

Sendak points a finger at two of his minions. “Sentries, take that chunk of crystal off of him. I want to watch him squirm.”

If possible, Lance looks even more annoyed at this statement, and Shiro finds a hysterical bubble of laughter, wanting to escape him. 

Lance is on his deathbed, and he’s annoyed. He is not scared, not sad, not angry,  he’s annoyed. Like getting crushed by a crystal is a typical grievance, not anything actually important.

Shiro watches as two sentries effortlessly lift the crystal off of Lance and feels grief at this. Two sentries are enough, but not six people? How is that fair?

“I think I need to take Voltron’s Sharpshooter out of commission. For good,” Sendak sneers, walking over to Lance with a pep in his step. Shiro starts to call out for him, but is pushed to the ground by a sentry, one who is currently pointing a gun at him. 

Lance attempts to crawl away but gets kicked in the abdomen. Shiro can only watch helplessly as Sendak kicks Lance in the face before pushing his head to the ground. Sendak leans down and mutters something in Lance’s ear, causing Lance’s eyes to widen. 

Sendak straightens up and starts revving his arm. “I won’t let it happen again,” He says, and Shiro thinks he must be tacking on to the sentence he just said to Lance. Shiro starts to stand up when Lance closes his eyes, probably awaiting his death, and is hit in the back of the head by the sentry behind him. 

Thankfully, hope comes in the form of Keith tackling Sendak and Pidge announcing their arrival. Shiro finds a newfound strength in the power his friends’ presence brings him. He stands up and abruptly headbutts the sentry holding him at gunpoint. Shiro ignores the throbbing in his legs and fights alongside Pidge and Keith to take out the remaining sentries, all while keeping Sendak at bay. 

Shiro notices out of the corner of his eye that Lance has managed to conjure up his bayard, an advanced one at that. It’s taken the form of a sniper rifle, and Lance looks to be lining Sendak up in his scope. 

Lance seems to tremble at the possibility of taking someone’s life, and Shiro can’t blame him. But whatever Sendak said to Lance just a few minutes ago, it must’ve assured Lance that this was the only option. 

Lance pulls the trigger, and the room stops, silent at Lance's choice. Then, it springs into action. 

No one spares a look at Sendak’s body, nor do they care to. They rush over to Lance, Pidge keeping Shiro steady as the lack of adrenaline has made standing difficult, and they all kneel to Lance’s level.

Shiro raises his eyebrows when he sees Keith cradle Lance’s head, but doesn’t say anything.  I’ll tease him about it later, Shiro thinks, and smiles at the fondness he sees in Lance’s eyes when he takes notice of Keith. 

Lance mumbles something, and Keith beams in relief. 

Lance seems to want to say more, but just says, “I think I’m gonna take a nap now.”

Keith disagrees. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lance.”

Lance loosely shrugs and gives a slightly toothy grin. “I do.”

Lance is shocked by Shiro’s retelling and simply says, “Holy fuck.”

Shiro cracks a smile and pats Lance’s hand, who is currently trembling, no doubt remembering the events of that night with newfound clarity.

“Language,” Shiro says mildly, and Lance lets out a shaky laugh. Then, Lance comes to a realization. He needs to ask Shiro how he met Adam. He needs to know if what the other Shiro said is true. 

Lance mentions that he had an epiphany about love when he was asleep and asks Shiro how he met Adam. Lance hates lying, hates it with a burning passion, but he has to ask this. He needs to know for sure. 

Shiro doesn’t think anything of it and instead gets a little knowing look on his face. Lance briefly wonders if Shiro misunderstood his lie, but shrugs his shoulders, listening carefully to Shiro’s story.

Please be the same, please be the same, please be the same…

“Uh, okay. It all started when I got struck by lightning. I was nine, so…”

A slow smile works its way onto Lance’s face.

"We’re different versions of each other, but we’re also one and the same.”

Lance feels such an overwhelming amount of relief that he feels tears welling up. He quickly wipes them away before Shiro notices.

“And then you know the rest. Anyway, wanna tell me about this epiphany you had?” Shiro asks, tracing a finger on the table he and Lance are currently sitting at. Lance barks out a laugh. 

“Some things should remain a mystery, Shiro.”

Chapter Text

“So.” 

“...”

“Do you really not remember the bonding moment?”

“Dude.”

“I’m serious.” 

“...”

“Dude, we’re waiting on the others to arrive anyway; the least we can do is talk a bit. So, do you remember the bonding moment or not?”

Lance sighed and looked at Keith, his expression clearly unimpressed. Keith matched his energy, raising his eyebrows as if to say,  Answer the question, coward.

“I honestly didn’t remember anything until you told me. Then, when everyone informed me of what happened during Sendak’s attack, the pieces sort of clicked together.”

Keith squinted his eyes in suspicion. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird. Coran said something about the healing pod affecting your memory when you’re gravely injured, so I don’t know,” Lance shrugged.

“I guess that sounds legit.” There was a pause, then Keith looked at him, a determined gleam in his eye. “Why did you lie about it?”

“Dude, did you really think that the younger me would easily admit that he was cradled in somebody else’s arms?”

Keith nodded his head as if he understood, a small smile on his face. “I guess that's a good point.”

It became silent again, and Lance twiddled his fingers.“So, have you confessed to that person you like yet?”

Keith scoffed but seemed very amused at Lance’s question. “I do confess, almost every time I see them. But they’re frustratingly oblivious, so they don’t realize it.” 

Lance rested his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm. “What was your latest confession to them?” Lance asked out of curiosity, and Keith laughed.

“I asked them if they wanted to go to dinner, which isn’t technically a confession, I know, but I chickened out. And you wanna know what they did?” 

Lance tilted his head in confusion.

“They made it a group outing because they thought that was what I wanted. I thought I was pretty clear when I asked them, but I guess not,” Keith said, looking pointedly at Lance as if the latter had somehow offended him in some way.

Lance held up his hands in surrender. “Just because I forced you into a group lunch doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me,” Lance complained. 

Keith facepalmed, groaning. 

“So when’s this next group outing? Your social calendar’s looking to be pretty full now,” Lance teased, and Keith looked him dead in the eyes.

“It’s tonight.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “Two group outings in one day? That’s a bit much even for you.”

Keith brought a hand to his hair, lightly tugging it in frustration. “Why is this so difficult?” He muttered to himself, and Lance felt guilty for making slight fun of him.

“Sorry, man–”

“It’s you.”

It was silent for a moment, and Lance simply blinked. “Say what?”

“The person I like. It’s you.” Keith’s face was bright red when he said this, and Lance tried to recall what day it was. He didn’t forget April Fool’s Day, did he? Keith wasn’t a prankster by any means, but this is weird, even for him. “Lance?”

“That’s not a bad confession, Keith. I would probably go for a more subtle approach, though,” Lance analyzed, trying to ignore the weird thrumming feeling Keith’s words gave him. 

Keith didn’t like Lance.

There’s no possible way for that to be true. 

Keith was just practicing. He had to be.

That’s the only logical thing that makes sense. Still, a disclaimer that he was practicing would have been nice. 

“Uh, what?” Keith said blankly, looking at Lance as if he were the one who had grown a second head. 

“When you’re telling the person you actually like how you feel, you might want to be a touch more subtle,” Lance suggested absently, but took notice of Keith’s expression. 

He looked saddened. Did Keith not like Lance’s advice?

“Lance, is it really so unbelievable that I would like you?” Keith’s voice sounds small. Worried.

Lance was simply lost for words. This wasn’t right. 

Keith wasn’t supposed to like Lance. 

This had to be a joke, right?

Before Lance can respond (or run away), a bulky Altean prosthetic hand claps him on the shoulder from behind. “Sorry, we’re late. We weren’t interrupting anything important, were we?” Shiro’s voice seemed like heaven to Lance’s ears at that moment. Lance looked over his shoulder to see the rest of their friends, all with weird looks on their faces. 

Lance let out a fake laugh; a sound so strained that he himself winced when he heard it. “No, nothing like that. Keith was just telling me a joke. I personally didn’t find it that funny, but then again, Keith only knows knock-knock jokes, so….”

Keith cried out indignantly, claiming he knew more than simple knock-knock jokes, and Lance was relieved to see that Keith really was joking. Keith started to tell said jokes, which ended in Pidge and Hunk looking at him unimpressed, and Shiro busting a gut laughing.

Yeah, of course, Lance was right. 

He was lucky Allura had given him a chance, so why would his luck carry over to Keith?

Keith deserved someone better.

“I tackled Sendak off of you,” Keith claims, his arms crossed.

After Shiro retrieved the others, Lance had been crushed in a very suffocating, yet very welcomed, group hug that lasted about five minutes. The hug ended, and Shiro suggested that everyone tell their sides of the story, claiming that he had already told his.

So, the others divulged their stories, with Hunk and Coran talking about the Balmera, Pidge saving their asses, and Keith and Allura protecting the Arusian village. 

Lance praises each and every one of them, and then there’s Keith, who obviously looks proud of himself for tackling Sendak.

Instead of pretending to be forgetful like last time, Lance acquiesces and nods. “Okay, that was pretty cool,” He agrees, and Keith looks like he’s glowing at the praise. 

“I’m surprised he didn’t pretend to forget about it,” Lance hears Hunk mumble under his breath and raises an eyebrow. Keith must have heard this because he agrees out loud with Hunk’s statement.

“Yeah, me too.”

Lance decides to play dumb and not mention the cradled you in my arms part of the story that Keith’s refusing to talk about. That part of the ordeal seems to make Keith worryingly uncomfortable, and Lance respects boundaries. He just wishes he knew why.

Lance sits back in his chair and finally locks eyes with Allura. She looks happy he’s alright, and he feels a calm note of fondness for her. Despite not talking or flirting with her this time around, she still seems to worry about him all the same. “So, are we completely sure about what happened to Sendak? Is he truly…?”

The question trails off, but everyone knows what he’s asking. “Yes, Sendak really is dead. I feel like I should feel bad about the turn of events that led to this, but the truth is: I feel a sense of relief knowing that he’s not around anymore. He can’t cause anyone any more grief.”

Allura’s words are reassuring to hear, and Lance lets out a quiet sigh. 

“The only concern I’m thinking of is what this is going to mean for the Galra Empire. Losing one of their high-ranking Commanders won’t spell anything good for what’s to come. Everyone needs to stay on their guard,” Coran warns, and Lance suddenly remembers that Coran knows about his predicament.

I need to talk to him later, Lance thinks. 

Lance ruffles his hair, feeling a bit worried that he put his friends in this new ring of danger. He didn’t really consider the consequences of killing Sendak so early on, only thinking about the fact that it would save so many lives. He didn’t think about the repercussions or if Zarkon would want to get even in some way. “I’m sorry I put us in danger like this. I was only thinking about my own emotions. I’m sorry,” Lance apologizes, genuinely feeling worried about what’s to come.

Shiro places a hand on Lance’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t feel sorry, Lance. I think if I were in your position, I would’ve done the same, though it does make me feel a little bad to admit.”

Coran sets his shoulders. “No one should feel sorry. I have a feeling Sendak would have gone on to make a lot of people's lives miserable,” Coran says as he gives Lance a knowing look, and Lance, very faintly, nods. “Let’s focus on our next mission, shall we?”

“We have to go save the Balmera, right?” Lance checks, and Hunk nods.

“We have to get back there so we can also save Shay and her people,” Hunk expresses passionately, and Lance idly wonders if something else happened with Hunk that he doesn’t quite know about. Hunk gives off a bit of a cooler vibe and is also a bit stiffer. Something serious must have happened. 

“Let’s man up and get going,” Hunk says, and everyone gets up. Pidge looks like she has something to say, but hesitates.

“Time to go defend the universe,” Shiro says, removing his hand from Lance’s shoulder. 

Lance spares a calming look to Pidge, silently asking her what’s wrong. 

“I have something to say first. I need to come clean, and I’m afraid this may change the way you all think about me,” Pidge starts, and this stops everyone in their tracks. They look at her questioningly. 

Pidge looks down at the floor, convinced that telling her secret will cause a rift. “Just so there are no secrets between us anymore, I can’t really man up. I’m a girl,” Pidge confesses and is amazed at the fact that no one really seems surprised at this. They all give her comforting smiles. 

“I’ve known for some time, but I’m glad you’ve decided to share this with everyone,” Allura says, her eyes soft. 

“Yeah, I figured,” Hunk says simply.

“Oh, yeah, me too,” Keith agrees. 

“Wait, we were supposed to think you were a boy?” Coran asks.

“Pidge, owning who you are is going to make you a better Paladin,” Shiro says knowingly. 

Lance gets up and brings her into a small side hug. “Boy or girl, you’re still my friend, Pidge. And it looks like everyone thinks the same way.”

Pidge returns the hug, sighing in relief. “It feels good to get that off my chest. Now, let’s launch this Castleship!” She says determinedly, and everyone wordlessly agrees as they set off in their own directions. 

Allura estimates half a varga before they take off from Arus, which leaves Lance plenty of time to think.

He wanders around the Castle until he makes his way outside onto a deck and gasps at what he sees. 

It’s the same view he had in his dream while he was asleep in the healing pod. 

Lance slowly walks around the deck, memorizing every detail. He looks out and sees the Arusian village, this time bustling and busy with all the Arusians scrambling around, doing their daily jobs. They seem oblivious to Lance’s observation.

The sun is just rising, and Lance feels such familiarity with this scene that all he can do is just sit down, basking in the relaxedness. 

The only thing missing from this is–

“Lance? What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, hey, Shiro. I was just thinking, that’s all,” Lance says, trying to resist the urge to laugh at the coincidence. 

Shiro smiles, sitting down beside Lance. “You picked a good place to sit and think. This view is amazing,” Shiro says, looking out over the great plains of Arus. 

Lance swears that for just a moment, he sees the white-haired Shiro from his dream. 

He looks back out over the village and smiles. “Yeah, I didn’t even know this deck was out here until now.” 

Lance sits with his legs crisscrossed, resting his elbow on his leg. He rests his chin in his hand, watching the sun rise slowly into the sky. 

He finds that he likes it a lot better here when the Arusians are out and about, and this Shiro is warm and alive and not grieving the loss of his first love. Lance likes the slight aches and pains he feels thrumming through his body, and not the painlessness he felt in his dream. 

Lance enjoys being alive, he realizes. He tries to ignore the surprise he feels at this realization.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Shiro’s voice interrupts Lance’s thought process, and Lance shrugs. 

“Just enjoying being alive, I guess,” Lance says honestly, and Shiro smiles warmly.

“I think we’re all glad you’re alive, too, Lance. Try to stay that way for a good, long while, okay?”

Lance cracks a smile at that and nods his head. “I’m planning on it.”

It’s silent for a bit longer until Shiro breaks the silence.

“After we save the Balmera, you should talk a bit with Hunk. He seemed a little torn up by what happened, and I’m not sure if it involves what happened with you or the Balmera,” Shiro reveals, and Lance tilts his head in confusion. 

“I tried to talk with him about it myself, but he just brushed me off, saying it was the lack of sleep getting to him,” Shiro explains, and Lance nods in understanding.

“Saying it’s a lack of sleep really means that he’s feeling a lot of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with. I do the same thing,” Lance confesses. “I’ll talk with him.”

Shiro looks grateful. “Thank you. In the future, I’ll try to make a better effort to get to know everyone better.”

Lance waves that thought away dismissively. “You’re a good leader, and everyone looks up to you. Try to relax and don’t harsh any good vibes coming your way, and you’ll be good.”

Shiro still seems confused. 

“He’s basically saying not to act too much like a dad, and you’ll be fine,” Keith’s voice says out of nowhere, and Lance and Shiro look back to see him standing behind them, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. 

“Look who’s eavesdropping,” Lance teases, and Keith rolls his eyes. Lance looks back at Shiro. “But yeah, that’s what I was saying. As long as you don’t try to play favorites with anyone, I’d say bonding with any of us will be pretty easy.”

Shiro looks offended. “I would never play favorites.”

Keith joins them and sits down beside Lance, bringing his knees to his chest. “What are you guys doing out here?”

“Just thinking, according to Lance,” Shiro answers, and Keith gives Lance a questioning look, his eyebrows raised. 

Lance shrugs. “I really like the view.”

Shiro suddenly gets up, and Keith and Lance look at the man, confused. “I’m going to ask Allura what exactly our plan is when we get to the Balmera. I’ll come to get you guys when it’s time.”

Shiro rushes back inside like a bat out of hell, leaving Lance and Keith looking at each other in bewilderment.

“He’s acting weird,” Lance observes, and Keith sighs.

“Yeah, he tends to do that when he makes assumptions about things he doesn’t know,” Keith says loudly, as if Shiro can still hear them from wherever he is in the Castle.

“Care to explain?”

Keith’s cheeks blush a light pink, and he ducks his head down. “Nah, it’s too embarrassing. Maybe someday, though.”

The two grow silent, opting instead to gaze down at the Arusian village. “It’s weird to say this, but I think I’m gonna miss this place,” Lance says out of the blue and remembers something, a memory that feels like it was an eternity ago. 

“That’s why we’ve gotta end this war. And we’re gonna do it with the Lance that’s the Paladin of the Red Lion. The Lance that’s always got my back. And the Lance who knows exactly who he is and what he’s got to offer.”

Lance feels a sense of confusion flood his system. Why did he remember that moment out of everything so far? 

Keith stays silent, and Lance takes a moment to really look at his friend. 

This Keith is cooler, a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but a good, warm person underneath that tough exterior. While he has talked about his feelings on multiple occasions, he was never in his right mind most of the time, either while being drunk or during his recovery. This Keith is impulsive, reckless, and a perfect fit for the Red Lion. He’s not confident enough to take the role of the leader of Voltron quite yet. Despite all of those things, however, he’s a good person and a great friend.

The Keith that Lance knew before was all of those things, but transformed into someone Lance admired greatly, and if Lance was being honest, he probably admired Keith before his transformation. The old Keith was confident, only knew bad knock-knock jokes, and planted flowers for his supposedly unrequited love. That Keith was a great leader of Voltron, and Lance had been proud to be his right-hand man. 

However, when Lance looks at this Keith, he can’t connect the two, not like he did with Shiro. The two Keiths he has grown to know are like two different people, and he can’t think of them as one person as easily. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Keith asks Lance, frowning.

Lance snaps out of his staring, apologizing. “Sorry, man. I was just thinking of something else.”

Keith silently stares at Lance, tilting his head as if to say, Tell me what’s on your mind, but Lance refuses. It would be weird, difficult, and awkward to explain. 

Just as Keith opens his mouth to ask, Shiro interrupts.

“Allura says we’re about to launch. We should head up there.”

The Castleship launches, and Lance is surprised to hear that there is no distress beacon this time. That same distress beacon would usually lead them to Rolo, Nyma, and Beezer, but there was nothing. 

Lance idly wonders if it’s because he took much longer in the healing pod– a whole five or six days longer than he should have been in there. He guesses that would be enough time for them to get off the planet they were on, but he still isn’t sure. He just hopes they’re alright for the most part. 

After a while, Allura says they can go eat or train, just to stay ready and in their armor until they reach the Balmera.

Everyone agrees and heads off in their own direction. Lance keeps a close eye on Coran, noticing that he’s going to clean the pods. Lance quickly follows, offering to help. Coran has a knowing expression on his face and immediately agrees. 

Coran silently hands Lance a rag and tells him to get to work.

“Coran, can we talk about that…thing we were talking about before the explosion?” Lance asks mildly, wiping down the inside of an open pod. Sendak is dead, so hopefully, the Castle doesn’t try to kill anyone this time. Still, he remains cautious. 

“Of course,” Coran answers simply.

“Oookay. May I ask which friend I remind you of?”

Coran pauses, obviously thinking about what to say. “My friend goes by many different names, and they travel to many different places all the time. Their species lives quite a long time, even by Altean standards, so they should still be around.” 

“Which name do you know them by?”

Coran laughs at the question as if it’s absurd. “The last time I saw them, they said they liked the name Clotho. Said they found the name in some book and quite liked it. I imagine they must have changed their name more than a hundred times by now.”

Lance shakes out his rag dismissively. “Why do I remind you of them?”

Coran stares at him, clearly thinking. “Because they wished to go back in time and change the past. And they actually figured out a way to do it. The price was a hefty one, though.”

“What was it?”

Coran hesitates, wondering if it’s really a good idea to reveal this much about an old friend. He decides to answer anyway. “The universe continuously punishes them, finding new and lucrative ways to make their lives miserable. It’s always in little ways, too, which makes it so much worse. Going back in time is against our laws of space and time, Lance.”

Lance looks down, now wiping the floor of the pod. The dried speckles of blood that coat the floor make him sick to his stomach. “What did they want to change?”

Coran sighs. “That, I do not know. All I know is that this event tore them up deeply, so much so that they looked for ridiculous means of changing it. Tell me, Lance. Did you do the same?”

Lance is caught off guard by the first question Coran has asked him all day. “No. I mean, sure, I thought about how I would do things differently, but I didn’t specifically look for a means of going back. The thought to look didn’t even cross my mind.”

Coran nods, satisfied by Lance’s answer. “My friend was very generous.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“They also have a good sense of sympathy, always wanting to help people who have been wronged in some way or who’ve been put in the same position they were in. If you aren’t lying about your answer, then I’m sure my friend must have helped you.”

Lance gets up off the ground at this. “Really?”

Coran shrugs, looking a little uncertain. “I don’t know for sure, but a lot of signs point to it. Just answer a few questions for me, alright?”

Lance nods.

“Did you get hurt as badly in the last timeline you were in?”

“No, last time, I only stayed in the pod for a day or two. I was still pretty beat up, but I definitely wasn’t crushed under a crystal, I’ll tell you that much.” Lance winces at the memory, still feeling a few aches and pains throughout his body.

Coran hums. “The universe can be very cruel, my dear boy. And, have you noticed any changes in your fellow paladins?”

Lance thinks about this for a moment. “Hunk and Keith have been having weird feelings about this whole thing for a while, even claiming deja vu at times.” Lance wonders how much he can say before he’s probably stopped by that voice in his head, but there’s no interruption. “There was one person, a person who had died in the previous timeline. Shiro had said he didn’t want to waste any more time not being married to them, and a wedding happened that didn’t occur previously.”

Coran is calm, too calm, and it’s making Lance nervous. “May I ask who died in the previous timeline that made my friend sympathize with you, my dear boy?”

At that question, Lance’s mind suddenly started roaring, making it impossible to think clearly. He brings a hand up to his head, hissing at the sudden throbbing pain. 

Coran clears his throat, apologizing. “I’m sorry, Lance. I should have expected that you would not be able to answer that question. Talking too much about the past can change the future, isn’t that right?”

The pain radiating through Lance’s skull buzzes incessantly, not letting him answer. Lance supposes that answers that question.

“Whenever my friend changed little increments of their past, it would undoubtedly change the future, as you would guess. However, the universe didn’t like that, and so it punished them or the people they associated with, though this rarely resulted in death. The universe decided to punish the person in question, who had been changing the past more often than not, often causing physical harm as punishment.”

“The universe has a funny sense of humor,” Lance grunts out, noticing with relief that the buzzing is slowly fading away.

“That it does. Now, we could talk about this a bit more, but I doubt that would be very beneficial for you, as I’ve given you all the useful information I know.”

“I appreciate that too. Thank you, Coran.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Lance goes to the observation deck after that conversation, claiming to Coran that he needed time to think about all of this.

Coran had obviously understood and sent him on his merry way.

He sits down on the floor and stares out the viewing window, watching the stars glide by. 

Lance sighs, pondering whether or not he really should get into thinking about this right now. He knows it could probably wait until after the Balmera, but he also doesn’t want to go to battle with this kind of thing weighing on his mind. 

He also needs to talk to Hunk, but that could also wait until after they save the Balmera. And Shay. 

“Dude, just ask her out already!” Lance griped, and Hunk looked scandalized at the command. “She doesn’t think of me that way, so just give it a rest!”

“Oh, she totally does!”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

“Guys, enough with the arguing. Are we going through with the plan or not?” Keith’s voice asked calmly, and Lance nodded certainly.

“Yes. Hunk, you owe me. Humor me just this once, okay? My intuition about this kind of thing is usually right,” Lance pointed out, and Hunk rolled his eyes. “

Usually right,” Hunk muttered mockingly. 

Lance squinted. “Now, what’s the plan?”

“Ask her out, get rejected, go home.”

“Hunk.”

“Okay, okay. Ask her out, and if she accepts, take her out to the flower garden behind the fountain, confess my feelings.”

“Precisely. Do you need a script?” Lance asked genuinely.

Hunk sighed. “No, I think I can manage that part. Okay…”

Keith, Hunk, and Lance peek out of the bush where they’re hiding, waiting for Shay to arrive. Hunk had asked her to visit Earth, explaining that he would send a ship for her if needed. She had graciously accepted, and they were waiting outside a famous flower garden, waiting for her arrival. 

All of that had been Lance’s idea.

Eventually, a fancy car arrived, and Shay stepped out of it, looking around sheepishly. Lance pushed Hunk out of the bush roughly, leaving only him and Keith in the bush. 

“You really think this is going to work?” Keith whispered, and Lance scoffed at the question.

“As I said, I have a good intuition for this kind of thing.”

“Matchmaking?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Care to give a good example?”

Lance thought for a moment.“I set up my brother with his current wife. They have two children now,” Lance said proudly, and Keith’s eyes widened.

“Seriously? No way.”

“I have family pictures of them in my wallet. Wanna see?”

“No, no. It’s fine. I believe you.”

The two were silent for a moment, quietly watching Hunk walk up to Shay. Hunk asked the fated question, and Shay happily responded. Hunk’s nervous smile turned genuine, and they walked into the flower garden together, hand in hand. “What did I tell you, dude?” Lance said smugly.

Keith was still unconvinced. “The night’s not over yet. He still hasn’t confessed.” 

“All in due time, Mullet.”

Lance and Keith sneak out of the bush and stalk over to another bush that has a better view of the fountain. They watched as Hunk gave Shay a flower, his lips forming the words that were involved in his confession. Lance was horrible at lip-reading, but he could definitely tell Hunk had confessed if his nervous stance was anything to go by.

Shay’s face had blushed into a deep green, and her earrings had started to glow a soft yellow color. She pulled Hunk into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around him so intimately that it left Lance and Keith blushing. 

“Our work here is done, Mullet.” 

Lance took Keith’s arm and dragged them away from the scene as quietly as they could. 

“Wow. I can’t believe that actually worked,” Keith said, amazed at the turn of the events that had just happened before his very eyes. 

“Always trust the matchmaking process, but only when I’m the matchmaker,” Lance advised, setting his shoulders proudly. 

Keith looked amused. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you try setting me up, hotshot?”

Lance was left floundering. “You want to be set up? You’d let me do that for you?”

Keith’s answer was a laugh. “Nah, I’m kidding. I’m already in love with someone else, remember?”

 Lance nodded in understanding. “Well, if you tell me who they are, I could set something up,” Lance suggested, not doing anything to hide his curiosity about the person Keith was in love with.

Keith shook his head, refusing to answer, and Lance pouted playfully. 

They must truly be an amazing person if they got Keith to fall in love with them.

The mission to save the Balmera goes the same as last time, and it puts things into perspective for Lance as he relives these events. 

For one, Keith being able to activate the bay doors when he and Lance snuck in to trap the Galra ships makes a lot more sense now. 

Also, Keith and Lance seem to work together a bit better than they did the first time, with Keith actually understanding Lance’s signals and working in sync with each other. Lance guesses that knowing Keith for a few years before all this plays a major role in that development. Lance takes that as a win.

The fight with the Robeast, however, goes a bit differently, with Lance being the one who takes the brunt of the damage.

“Lance! What did I say about being careful!?” Hunk’s voice yells over the comms, and Lance definitely takes notice of the panic in Hunk’s voice.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Lance says, and grunts as he and Blue take another hit. 

Eventually, Hunk discovers what his bayard can do, and they form Voltron, beating the Robeast while Allura is able to heal the Balmera. 

They exit their Lions as Allura collapses and watch as the Balmera traps the Robeast in a crystal. Lance tries his best not to shudder at the sight of it. 

The Paladins feel the Balmera hum in contentment under their feet, and everyone knows that Voltron has successfully completed their first mission.

There’s one thing, however, that Lance did not consider happening. 

“Shay!” Hunk shouts, running over to her collapsed form. She’s making quiet noises of pain, and Hunk begins to look even more panicked. Coran drapes Allura’s arm over his shoulder, and Shiro helps. “Let’s get her into a healing pod!” Coran commands, and Lance helps Hunk carry Shay to the ship. 

While Coran carries Allura to her room, the other Paladins help Shay into a healing pod. Hunk seems to operate the healing pod with experience and promptly sits down outside the pod when Shay is stable. 

“I’m staying here,” Hunk says firmly, not taking his eyes off of Shay. Everybody looks worried at this new predicament and goes off in their own directions, each claiming that they were going to go see how the Balmerans were doing.

“I’ll go update her family,” Lance informs, his voice uncertain. Hunk doesn’t say anything, just nodding to confirm he heard Lance.

Lance awkwardly exits the Castleship, locating all the Paladins almost immediately. They’re all talking, looking worriedly at the crystal encasing the Robeast. Lance forces his eyes away from the group and instead walks over to Rax, who is by himself. 

He’s sitting on the ground with his hand pressed to the Balmera. It emits a blue glow, and Lance thinks he might be communicating to the other Balmerans what happened to Shay.

“Hey,” Lance says, waving, and Rax lifts his hand up from the Balmera, giving Lance a hopeful look. “Is she going to be alright?” The Balmeran asks stiffly, and Lance nods. “She’s in a healing pod and should be out in less than a day. We think the exhaustion of the healing ceremony probably got to her,” Lance answers, and Rax sighs in relief.

“This is all my fault,” He says, and Lance tilts his head. “Unless you were the one who exhausted her to this point, you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. She’s going to be fine,” Lance tries to reassure, but Rax shakes his head. 

“I conspired against The Paladins of Voltron, and because of my actions, Shay was imprisoned,” Rax says, downcast. His hands are clenched tightly, and he looks frustrated with himself. 

Lance sighs and sits down next to the Balmeran. “You can’t think of things that way, or you’ll only dig yourself into a hole that you won’t be able to get out of.”

Rax looks at Lance in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lance shrugs. “You can’t blame yourself for everything bad that happens. Sure, ratting them out probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve had lately, but just think of it this way: Shay’s going to be fine. The Balmera is okay and thriving, and the Galra are no longer here. You can have all the time to make it up to her after she gets out of the pod.” 

Rax hums, thinking about Lance’s words. 

“I think I would like to talk to the yellow paladin. I need to thank him for saving my sister. Can you–”

“No need, I’ll go get him for you,” Lance says, standing up, and Rax looks grateful.

“Thank you, paladin. Speaking to you has made me feel better,” Rax says, and Lance smiles. He remembers Allura saying something similar in a time that feels so long ago. 

“Don’t mention it. I’ll be back,” Lance promises, and Rax nods.

“There is no need to rush. I am sure he is as worried about my sister as I am.”

Lance gives a thumbs-up and runs back to the Castleship, a new mission in mind. 

He walks in on Hunk, now standing up, looking at Shay worriedly. Coran is standing beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “Her scans are alright, Number Two. She’ll be out in a matter of vargas,” Coran reassures and notices Lance standing in the doorway. He gives Lance a look that asks, Did this happen last time?

Lance slightly shakes his head, and Coran looks disappointed. Lance is disappointed, too.

 He wishes it were him in that pod and not Shay. 

“Hey, buddy. Can we talk?”

Coran takes this as his cue to leave. 

“She’s doing alright?” Lance asks, walking up to Hunk cautiously. 

“Yeah, she’s stable,” Hunk answers calmly, finally sparing a glance toward his friend. His eyebrows furrow, taking in Lance’s stance.

“You look worse for wear. Did the fight really wear you down that badly?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Just tired,” Lance waves away Hunk’s worry, but Hunk’s gaze hardens.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Look, I talked to Rax, and as it turns out, he wants to talk to you,” Lance informs, and Hunk shrugs his shoulders. “I can keep an eye on her,” Lance tries.

“Just tell him that she’s okay,” Hunk says, bringing his eyes back to Shay.

“I did, but he wants to hear from you. He wants to talk to you,” Lance pokes Hunk gently.

Hunk shies away, and Lance ignores the hurt he feels at Hunk pulling away from him. “He doesn’t need to talk to me, Lance. All he wants to do is let me know all the things I did wrong, and I can’t hear that right now, okay?” Hunk says desperately, and his voice cracks. 

“Hunk, that’s not–” 

“I’m scared enough as it is, okay? First, it was you, and then the Balmera, and now it’s both Allura and Shay, and I can’t do this right now. I’m scared all the time now that something is gonna go wrong, okay?”

Lance is stunned, but forces himself to say something, anything.  “I can help you–”

“You can’t help me, Lance! You are literally the last person who can!” Hunk’s voice snaps, and Lance goes quiet. Why? Why can’t he help his best friend? What happened?

“Everything okay in here?” Shiro’s voice echoes through the hallways outside the room they’re in.

“You can watch her, and I’ll go talk to him,” Hunk says blankly, exiting the room that Shiro enters.

“Hunk!” Lance calls out for him, but the latter doesn’t turn around, ignoring him. Lance feels a pit he didn’t know was in his heart grow deeper. 

“You tried to talk with him?” Shiro guesses, and Lance nods.

“Yep.”

“It didn’t work out?”

“Nope.”

Shiro sits with Lance for a while, waiting for Hunk to get back. A few hours pass, and Hunk doesn’t come back as fast as they hoped.

Shiro finally breaks the silence. “You wanna go check on him?”

Lance shrugs. “I apparently can’t help him, so I don’t know what good that’ll do,” He answers. Lance bows his head, feeling ashamed of himself. “I didn’t mean that–it’s just– I don’t know what to do to make this better.”

Shiro pats Lance on the head. “I know.”

Before either of them can say any more, the healing pod opens, and Shay falls out. Shiro and Lance both jump forward to catch her, and she sighs. “What... happened?”

“The healing ceremony you and the Balmerans performed exhausted you too much,” Lance informs, trying to steady her.

“We put you in a healing pod so you could recuperate faster,” Shiro says, and Shay looks glad.

“That is good. May I ask where Hunk is?”

Lance and Shiro glance at each other. “He went out to get some fresh air. I’ll go get him for you if you want,” Lance offers, and Shay nods.

“If you could also tell my family that I am alright, I would be very grateful.”

“Sure thing. Shiro, can you…?”

“I got her, Lance.”

Lance nods and exits the Castleship, looking around for Hunk. He sees Rax right away, standing outside and pacing back and forth. “She’s awake now. You can go in and see her,” Lance tells him, and Rax practically flies into the ship, leaving Lance blinking. 

He looks around for Hunk, finding him sitting at the ledge of the humongous hole the Galra had made. Lance approaches, sitting down beside his friend and crossing his arms. “I thought you were watching Shay,” Hunk says calmly, and Lance feels indignation flow through him to his very core. Why is his best friend being so cold to him?

“She’s out of the pod and talking to her brother. Now, you need to talk to me,” Lance says firmly. Hunk shakes his head. “We don’t need to talk. There’s nothing wrong,” Hunk insists, but Lance pokes him on the shoulder, this time a bit rougher. 

Lance doesn’t move a muscle, giving Hunk an unimpressed look. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me. I've never seen you like this before, and it's freaking me out.”

Hunk huffs and then glares at Lance. Lance tries not to react.

“How are you just okay? How does nothing phase you?”

Lance stays silent. It does phase him; he’s just good at not showing it.

“I’m worried, okay? I’m angry, and I’m sad, and my emotions are all over the place, dude. And here you are, what are you doing, acting like my therapist?”

Lance’s shoulders droop. Perhaps he should’ve waited to talk to Hunk. This isn’t going like he thought it would. 

“You act so normally as if we didn’t get shot up into space. As if you didn’t just almost die! How are you just okay?!”

Lance splutters, at a loss for words. They didn’t have this talk before, and now he’s not sure what to say. Hunk’s yelling has also attracted the attention of their fellow Paladins. The Balmerans, fortunately, know how to mind their business. “I don’t know,” Lance says, his voice small. 

“You don’t know,” Hunk repeats, dismayed. “You keep putting yourself in harm’s way, and you don’t know how you’re okay?”

“You’re part of my problem, Lance! I’m scared for you now, all the time! I think about that night Sendak invaded the Castle all the time! Every time I look at you, all I see are your sad eyes, begging me to save you. Every time, all I see is you trapped under that crystal that none of us could lift off of you! Do you know what would happen to me if you just died!?”

Lance can’t manage to get a word in before Hunk keeps ranting. 

“Just putting someone else’s life before yours and not even giving a shit about yourself–”

“Hunk–”

“None of us had a choice. You did that! You sacrificed yourself for someone else, and if it had been anyone else trapped under that crystal, I would’ve run away and not looked back–”

“Hunk, you would not have–”

“Then I wouldn’t be here!” Hunk is crying at this point, and Lance is at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what he can say to fix this. 

“Guys!” Shiro’s voice yells firmly, and the two look back at Shiro, who looks guilty for interrupting their conversation. Judging from the look on his face, plus Keith and Pidge, they heard the juiciest bits of the conversation. 

Their expressions morph into worry when Hunk stands up and stalks away, watching the yellow paladin get into his Lion. He doesn’t fly away, just sitting there.

“Perhaps talking to him right now wasn’t the best idea. I’m sorry, Lance,” Shiro apologizes sheepishly.

Lance shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his face. “It was my fault for pushing him. We’ll talk later.”

Lance gets up and promptly walks to his own Lion, needing to talk to Blue. 

Blue lowers her head and extends the walkway, letting Lance enter the cockpit.

I’m sorry you have to go through this, my star. I know how it feels to have a conflict with a friend.

Lance looks up at that, wanting to question Blue but refusing to. Asking someone to talk against their will never yields good results.

Would you like to talk, or would you rather I stay silent?

As always, Blue is understanding. “We can talk, just not about current events,” Lance answers quietly. 

Alright. Shall we talk about a Paladin of Old whose name was Blaytz?

Lance talks with Blue for a while, grateful that none of the other Paladins bother him. Talking with Blue always makes him feel better. 

Blue purrs comfortingly, happy at the inaudible praise.

I think you have a visitor.

Blue throws up a video feed of Hunk standing outside, fidgeting with his fingers. He looks regretful, and Lance hates seeing that expression on his friend’s face.

“Thanks for talking, Blue.”

He exits his Lion, walking towards Hunk. Lance cools his expression, wanting Hunk to know that he’s neither angry nor sad about what he said. Lance understands. 

“Can we talk?” Hunk asks, his voice cracking, and Lance simply nods. 

They go back to the ledge they were sitting on before, and Hunk sniffs. 

“I'm sorry about the way I said things,” Hunk starts. "Especially how I said that you didn't care about your life."

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t–”

“I did mean it, Lance. I hate saying that, but I really do mean what I said. I just said it in a rude way,” Hunk confesses, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

Lance stays silent, waiting for Hunk to explain himself.

“Lately, it seems like you don’t really give a shit about yourself. All you really care about is getting through the day, but you never seem to care about what happens to you along the way. The recent injuries, the explosion,” Hunk winces. “It all seems like you don’t really care.”

Lance could definitely see how Hunk would think that way. 

“Hunk, trust me when I say that I want to live.” 

He ignores the shock he feels at the truth in his words and continues.

“Believe it or not, I don’t get injured on purpose. It just happens. I’m not trying to play the martyr, and I’m not–”

Lance interrupts what he’s about to say. He can’t say that; it would put that thought into Hunk’s mind, and he can’t do that.

“My point is, I really want to live. The things that happen to me along the way are just inconveniences in my eyes.” 

Hunk looks even more worried at that, and Lance curses himself. 

“I’m sorry that I made you worry about me like that. It was not my intention,” Lance says clearly, laying a light hand on Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk smiles at that and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry for going off on you. It was my emotions running rampant, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Lance shrugs. “To be fair, I was being clingy. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to that.”

Lance hits Hunk’s shoulder playfully, causing Hunk to bark out a laugh. 

The paladins look relieved when Hunk and Lance enter the Bridge together.

“Everything okay now?” Shiro inquires, and Hunk and Lance both nod simultaneously. “Good. Because someone really wants to talk to you,” Shiro says to Hunk, nodding his head over to Shay, who's talking to Rax in quiet tones. 

Shay’s face is flushed a deep green, and Lance attempts not to crack a smile. If they’re talking about what he thinks they’re talking about, getting Hunk and Shay together probably wouldn’t take as long as it did last time. Rax spares a glance over a Hunk, giving him a cool nod. 

Hunk nods back, and Lance silently ponders the silent conversation. 

“Hunk, thank you for honoring your vow to return.” 

“I should be thanking you.”

From there, a conversation goes on that feels very romantic by Lance’s standards. The paladins shuffle awkwardly, either staring at the floor or fidgeting with their hands. 

Shiro clears his throat quietly, ushering the people not involved in the conversation to leave the room.

Lance decides to drop a thought into both Hunk and Shay’s heads. “Hey, Shay. Did you know Hunk’s favorite color is yellow?”

Everyone looks confused at Lance’s question. 

“I thought so, judging from his armor,” Shay answers kindly, eyeing Hunk rather obviously. Hunk raises his eyebrows at Lance, clearly wondering where he’s going with this. 

Lance grins devilishly. 

“How coincidental it is that your eyes are the exact same color? So that means–”

Keith covers Lance’s mouth. “I think the fight knocked his brain around a little. We’ll be leaving now.”

“Keith, I’m trying to matchmake here! Read the room!”

“I am, and you’re clearly not!”

Shay lets out a quiet giggle at the interaction. “Is that true? Are my eyes really the same as your favorite color?”

Hunk is flustered at this but answers honestly. “Yes, they are.”

Shay seems happy with his honesty and takes his hand, leading him out of the room. Lance isn’t sure what he just said or did to make that turn of events happen, but he’s not complaining. Sure, his method wasn't exactly subtle, not in the slightest, but it certainly got the job done, didn't it?

“What did you do?” Keith says blankly, and Lance laughs. 

“Always trust the matchmaking process, but only when I’m the matchmaker,” He says, feeling a hint of familiarity at the words. 

Shiro and Pidge share awkward glances at each other, and Keith still looks a bit puzzled. He seems to recognize the familiarity of the words as well, but as usual, can’t pin them to a specific place or memory. Lance feels slightly bad.

“Is that so? Why don’t you try setting me up since you’re such a hotshot?” Keith says testily. Lance is taken aback by his answer. Lance supposes that Keith hasn't fallen in love yet. So, Keith is actually fine with being matchmade this time?

“Alright, you’re on!”

Pidge and Shiro sigh in unison. 

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

“No, probably not.”

Chapter Text

“Lance. Lance! Wake up!”

Lance’s eyes shoot open, and he sits up, looking around the room with squinted eyes. Keith is standing there, arms crossed, with an expression that’s a clear crossroad between concern, amusement, and surprise. Wait, why is Keith waking him up?

“Am I–” Lance examines the room he’s in and the hard surface he’s sitting on. “–in the dining room?” He asks, bringing the blanket wrapped around him closer. 

“Yep,” Keith answers, and his mouth is scrunched up like he’s struggling not to laugh. “You were sleeping on the dining room table,” Keith elaborates and raises his eyebrows. 

Lance sighs and slides off the table, wrapping the blanket around him like a shawl. “I don’t remember falling asleep in here,” He grumbles, yawning away as he walks around trying to find his balance.

“Where do you remember falling asleep?” Keith asks, coming up beside Lance. Lance stops and thinks for a moment, a little unsure if he wants to answer that question honestly or not. The honest answer is the observation deck. The correct answer, however, would probably be his bedroom. 

“Uhh…” Lance can’t muster up either answer, and this causes Keith to sigh.

“Do you even remember falling asleep?”

“...No.”

“Thought so. Come on. Coran introduced me to the Altean version of coffee, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate,” Keith says as he grabs Lance’s arm, tugging him along in the direction of the kitchen. 

Lance follows Keith’s lead, not having it in him to resist. 

After a few minutes, they make it to the kitchen, and Lance is surprised to see that no one else is there. “Keith?” Lance starts, and Keith doesn’t bother looking at Lance, instead going over to the counter to mess with an unfamiliar machine. “What time is it, anyway?”

Keith stops for a second, then continues what he’s working on. “It’s four in the morning…I think. I don’t know. Coran tried to explain it to me earlier, but Altean clocks are tricky,” Keith says, shrugging, and presses a button on the machine. 

Lance hums, wrapping the blanket around himself even tighter. “What’s wrong?” Keith looks at him with questioning eyes, and Lance shakes his head.

“Nothing, it’s just freezing in here. You don’t feel that?” The Castle feels a bit more drafty than usual, and Lance has a slight idea as to why that is, but he needs to double-check something first.

The boy is about to start shivering from how cold it is, but Keith himself is without his jacket, and he looks to be faring just fine. 

“No,” Keith says simply. 

Lance remembers that Keith having higher cold resistance might be due to his heritage, being half-Galra and all. Or Keith is just built differently. That’s a possibility, too, Lance supposes. 

After a few moments, the machine beeps, and Keith pours them both a cup of Altean coffee.

“It’s glittery,” Lance observes, looking at the liquid in his cup with disbelief.

“Yep,” Keith sips, unfazed by the glitter.

“It’s also pink,” Lance comments blankly. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Just drink it. It should warm you up.”

Lance obeys the command, sipping at the pink glittery liquid with suspicion. It’s boiling and tastes sweeter than regular coffee. 

He scalds his lip from the temperature and hisses out a string of quiet curses. Keith looks unimpressed by this, and Lance quickly realizes that Keith’s heat resistance would also be a little higher as well. 

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were judging me with your eyes.”

“Lance, no, I wasn’t. That’s just my face.”

Lance shakes his head and takes another sip of coffee, this time taking a moment to cool it down, so he doesn’t melt his lips off. 

The Altean coffee does have a similar effect to regular coffee, and it perks Lance right up.

“It’s pretty good, right?” Keith inquires, draining his cup in the length of two minutes.

Not even halfway through his own cup, Lance gives a thumbs-up in response. “Yeah, yeah. It’s good.”

Keith seems happy with Lance’s honest answer and smiles, albeit it’s a little clumsy, like he’s not sure what else to do or say. “That’s good.”

An awkward silence comes over the two, and Lance shuffles around, stiffly waiting for his damn coffee to cool down. 

“So, did you sleepwalk at all back at the Garrison?” Keith asks, and his tone is genuine. 

“No, it only just started that first night you and Hunk caught me. It’s never happened before, so I don’t know why it’s happening now,” Lance responds, scratching his head at his actions. He might need to ask Coran later if his friend had a habit of making people sleepwalk because this obviously wasn’t Lance’s doing. 

Was it?

“Y’know, they say sleepwalking can be caused by stress,” Keith suggests as he rinses out his cup, giving Lance a concerned look. Lance scrunches his nose, trying not to give himself away.

“There have been quite a few reasons for stress lately, Mullet,” Lance reasons, and Keith nods his head to that.

“Can’t argue with that, I guess.”

Lance manages to finish his cup and goes to rinse it himself, but Keith yanks it out of his hands before he can.

“I could’ve rinsed it myself,” Lance says, raising an eyebrow, but Keith steadily ignores him. He washes the cup out and dries it before putting it in the cupboard.

Keith finally turns around. “It’s whatever. You wanna go for a walk or something?” He asks, and his eyes are full of something that Lance still can’t fucking read. What is that expression, exactly, that he sees Keith wearing every time he looks at him?

A walk, however, does sound like a good idea, and Lance nods. “Sure.”

Keith leads them to an empty hallway neither of them have walked down before, and they both begin exploring, entering, and examining rooms even Lance hasn’t seen before. 

Lance had been pretty sure he had examined the Castle and each of its many rooms in the last timeline, but he didn’t remember some of these rooms being here before. For instance, the giant library looked to have a great view of the space outside its window.

“Whoa,” Lance says calmly, tugging his blanket around him as he walks toward numerous bookshelves that the room seems to have. “This place has more books than the Garrison,” Keith notes, running his fingers along the spines of the books, taking care to try and translate the titles. “All of the titles are in Altean,” Keith says, sounding a little disappointed.

Lance knows there’s a way to translate the books into a language they can understand, but he can’t outright say it. That would be weird and obviously suspicious. Coran had told him about it in the past timeline when he brought out a few books for the Paladins to read together during a long-forgotten bonding exercise. 

When Pidge had pointed out that none of them could exactly read or understand Altean, Coran had a revelation and went to retrieve five pairs of funky-looking glasses that he claimed could translate any language in the known universe.

Everyone had been skeptical but tried them, surprised to see that the glasses really could translate Altean. 

They also loathed seeing that Coran had been trying to get them to read cringy romance books and firmly shut that bonding exercise down. Everyone hated it, but Lance thought it was hilarious.

Lance smiles a bit at that faint memory and wonders where Coran keeps those funky reading glasses. He steps away from the bookshelf he’s standing near and looks around, searching for a cabinet or a desk of some kind that might hide the kind of thing he’s looking for. 

There does seem to be a desk, a fancy-looking one at that, but it looks to be on the second floor of the library. Lance looks around for the ladder and finds it, grinning in triumph. 

He walks up to the ladder, determined, and ties his blanket around his neck like a cape. “Uh, what are you doing?” Keith’s questioning voice sounds from behind him, and Lance looks over his shoulder.

“Snooping, obviously. The Alteans were super smart, so they had to have made something to be able to translate different languages, wouldn’t you think?”

Keith seems convinced and, if anything else, a bit nervous. “Just be careful, and don’t slip and fall off the ladder. You have a habit of injuring yourself lately.”

Lance is oddly flattered by Keith’s worry and firmly waves it off. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

He scales up the ladder quickly and makes his way to the desk, almost feeling guilty for rummaging around in things that don’t belong to him. 

All he’s looking for are glasses, so he doesn’t need to try to snoop through anything else that isn’t his.

Lance pulls out several drawers, cycling through them and trying to find the damn glasses. 

Thankfully, he finds them in the second-to-last drawer from the bottom and pulls out two pairs. “Gotcha,” He mutters to himself and goes to show Keith his findings. 

And unfortunately, because the universe will always find a way to make things difficult, he trips on his blanket cape just as he makes it to the ladder.

He’s prepared to hit the ground after the eight-foot drop but is surprised to find himself in more preferable circumstances.

Keith had caught him.

“What did I tell you about being careful?” Keith grumbles, and for some reason, his face is wearing that same expression that Lance can’t identify, combined with flushed cheeks and narrowed eyebrows.

Lance laughs nervously before being set down, patting Keith on the shoulder in an appreciative manner. “To be fair, I didn’t slip on the ladder. My own blanket tripped me,” He excuses, and for some reason, he begins to feel self-conscious. “Uh, thanks. For catching me.”

Keith seems to value Lance’s gratitude and stiffly nods. “It’s no big deal,” He says, scratching the back of his neck as he avoids Lance’s eyes. “Anyway, did you find anything?”

Lance finally remembers what he was doing before he fell and promptly pulls out two pairs of glasses. “I think these might help.”

Keith raises an eyebrow as Lance offers him a pair of glasses, but takes them anyway. “They look funny,” He comments.

Lance shushes him, and they both put their pairs on, smirking at each other at how goofy they both look. “Okay, we have them on. Now what?” Keith still seems unimpressed. Lance leads them over to a random bookshelf and pulls out a random book. He doesn’t bother to read the title and opens the book to a random page.

Keith leans over his shoulder to read from it, and they both gasp as they process the words on the page.

His lips met mine, and our tongues battled each other, trying to claim dominance. He trailed his hand from my chest down to my—

Lance slams the book shut, wheezing as he sets the book back on the shelf. “This is why we read the titles, Lance!” Keith hisses but can’t hide the grin on his face. Lance looks up and catches sight of the sign above the bookshelf, which reads out the genre: Erotica.

Lance wordlessly points to the sign, and Keith looks at where he’s pointing. They both stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, each falling to the ground in a fit. 

“What is all the ruckus in here?” Coran’s voice interrupts them, and they both get up from the floor, trying to conceal their smiles. Coran walks up to them cautiously, raising an eyebrow at the glasses they’re wearing. Then he looks up at the genre sign they’re standing near and sighs. 

“You know, this reminds me of when Alfor and Zarkon were teenagers. They used to goof around in the library like this, too.”

Lance’s eyes widen. They weren’t supposed to learn about Zarkon’s closeness to the Alteans for a little longer. Coran seems to notice his mistake and goes to correct himself when Keith interrupts. 

“Wait, Zarkon and Alfor were that close? How? Why? What’s–” Keith is getting continuously confused by the revelation, and Coran sighs heavily.

“Perhaps I should sit you both down and explain.”

Lance and Keith both listened as Coran explained the events of 10,000 years ago, although Lance mostly tuned out. He had learned about this before, and Lance didn’t like hearing this again.

The more he heard of the things Honerva and Zarkon did, the more his hatred grew for them. The way they were both so obsessed with the idea of immortality that they dragged others down with them was unforgivable, in Lance’s opinion. And the fact that Allura had to help clean up a mess Honerva caused and sacrificed her life to do so made it all the worse.

That shit was not going to happen in this timeline. Not on Lance’s watch. 

“Shouldn’t this be a discussion for the entire team?” Keith finally asks after Coran finishes explaining, and the older man looks deflated.

“Yes, it should be. But it might be a bit of a puzzle to convince the Princess of a good enough reason to tell the others about this.”

“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Keith sounds confused.

“My guess is that she mostly doesn’t want anything from the past to influence your future bonds with your Lions.” Coran looks a bit uncertain when he says this. “Sometimes, even I am unsure of her motivations.”

Keith and Lance are silent at this.

Coran was right on the money with his first guess. He knew the Princess better than he thought. 

“We would have found out sooner or later,” Lance finally says, and Coran looks a bit reassured by this.

“Yeah, but it’s definitely better to know now than later,” Keith says, looking a bit withered at the fact that there was stuff being hidden from them.

“No arguments there, Number Four. I’ll talk to the Princess about it the next time I see her,” Coran reassures, putting a hand over his heart to show his earnestness. Then his eyebrows narrow. “I forgot to ask this earlier, but is there a reason you two are up this early reading Altean erotica?”

Lance tries to suppress his laugh, but it sputters out of him uncontrollably. Keith’s laugh is quieter and contained, but it is still audible nonetheless. 

Coran shakes his head at this, his eyes crinkling at the corners to show his own amusement. “As fun as the two of you seem to be having, please join the rest of the Paladins down at the bridge when you have a moment.”

Keith and Lance look at each other before looking back at the older Altean. “Wait, everybody else is up already?”

Coran nods firmly. “Yes, I needed to wake them so we could all be around to decide what to do with that crystal the Galra brought in,” Coran says with distaste, spitting out the word Galra like it’s a rotten piece of food.

“Where is the crystal exactly?” Lance asks, crossing his arms and trying to look nonchalant, but really coming off more nervous.

“It’s down in the Green Lion’s hangar. Would you like to come to take a look? We’ll go straight to the bridge after.”

Lance nods firmly and wraps his blanket tighter around him. This might confirm his suspicion from earlier.

Keith shakes his head. “I’ll go ahead and meet the others at the bridge. Try not to take too long.” Keith walks out of the library, his hands pushed into his pockets, and Lance sighs.

“Shall we, Lance?” Coran offers, and Lance quietly nods.

The two make their way down to the Green Lion’s hangar. Next to the crystal the Galra used sits the crystal that the Castle used before it exploded into several pieces. Lance walks up to it, pressing a shivering, weak hand to the cold, dented surface. What is it doing in here?

 “Is this the same crystal that…?" Lance trails off, but Coran knows what he’s asking.

“Yes, that is the same one you were crushed under. I cleaned it off as best as I could.” Coran seems downtrodden, and his eyes are trained on the crystal as if it would magically sprout legs and walk away if he wasn’t looking. 

Lance stares at it grimly. “Thank you.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Lance looks at the monitors scanning the corrupted crystal. He glares at it, and that’s when Coran breaks the silence.

“So, Lance. Is there a reason you keep staring at the crystal as if it has offended you in some way?”

Coran’s voice is questioning, and Lance squints his eyes at the corrupted crystal in suspicion before turning them toward the speaker. “Let’s just say this crystal can cause a lot of problems for us. Sendak’s gone, but the crystal isn’t. It’s also a little bigger than I remember it being.”

Coran hums, eyeing the crystal as well. “What kind of problems would it spell exactly?”

Lance sighs, recollecting the past events with unsurprising clarity. “Almost getting driven into an imploding star, for one.”

Coran’s eyes bulge out of his head. “What!?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t our finest day. Also, on a completely unrelated note, you should keep an eye on Allura for the next few days.”

Lance tries to stay nonchalant as he says this, but he can’t help cracking a slight grin. There’s something about knowing something the others don’t know that brings a hysterical urge to laugh about it. He's going to need so much therapy after this whole thing is over and done with.

Coran looks disbelieving. “You’re saying the corrupted crystal will do this? Are you sure?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yes, Coran. You know, you said this same sort of thing last time, too. I actually believed the Castle was haunted because of how bad it got.”

“Care to elaborate on how everything could go wrong?”

“I would be happy to.”

Lance explains the events of the last timeline, wanting to laugh at the size of Coran’s eyes after his explanation. How Hunk and Pidge got attacked by the food goo machine, how Lance got locked into a cryo pod, and how a training robot almost killed Keith. How all these events, plus other circumstances, led to Shiro shooting Sendak into space and, therefore, sealing the fate of Sendak. Of course, Sendak returned, and Lance tried to take great care in explaining that, but even he was confused by the course of events.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So I should probably refrain from asking you to help me clean the pods for the next few days, hmm?”

“That would be preferable, yeah.”

After that excitable conversation, Coran and Lance both make their way to the bridge, where the other paladins are discussing the game plan.

“Has it really corrupted the whole system, even with it being disconnected?” Shiro asks Pidge, and she regretfully nods.

“Yeah, which means that we’ll probably need to reboot the entire ship just to ensure it doesn’t pull anything on us.”

Coran tuts. “That seems very plausible, but I must ask Princess Allura’s permission. You see, her father’s AI is the only thing she’s been able to think about for the past few days, and I don’t want to spring this on her.”

Lance tries not to sound pushy and insists gently, “It’ll need to happen sooner or later, Coran. You shouldn’t keep her in the dark about this forever.” 

“Among other things,” Lance hears Keith grumble, and everyone turns to look at him in confusion.

Coran sighs. “I suppose you’re right, Number Three. I’ll let her know. Everyone, be careful while you’re walking about.” The Altean warns, and everyone seems to agree reluctantly.

Coran leaves the room, muttering to himself about what to say. Lance feels a bit guilty, but he would rather this happen than almost get murdered by the Castleship. 

“Can I go train?” Keith asks, his tone bored, and Shiro shakes his head.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now, Keith. You heard Coran; we should be careful.”

Keith seems indifferent. “What could possibly happen on the training deck?”

Lance pretends to think about a logical answer. “The training robot could get corrupted, turn against you, and try to kill you,” He supplies coolly, and Keith looks a bit disturbed by that.

“I guess that’s true,” Keith mumbles back, crossing his arms and looking down at the floor as if lost in thought. 

The five paladins stay silent, basking in the awkward atmosphere uncomfortably. Lance brings the blanket over his head, so it looks like a hoodie, shivering just barely enough that the others don’t seem to notice. The others are wearing long sleeves, and Pidge has her own blanket wrapped around her. It makes Lance feel a little better to know that he’s not the only one suffering from the cold. The crystal must have messed with the temperature regulation.

“We could play Never Have I Ever?” Hunk suggests after a beat of silence, a nervous smile on his face. There are no objections, surprisingly, and everyone sits down on the floor in a circle, putting their hands up.

“Who wants to go first?” Shiro asks kindly, and everyone groans at the feeling this is giving off.

“This feels like one of those classroom games we used to play in middle school,” Keith mutters under his breath.

“Lance? Why don’t you start?” 

Lance sighs, trying to think of a good reason why he shouldn’t go first. Then it registers. “Never have I ever eaten a weed cookie,” He says proudly.

Hunk and Keith both put a finger down, and this sparks questioning looks from both Pidge and Shiro, although Shiro looks a bit stricter.

“Look,” Hunk starts, “It was Halloween, and everything was weird that night, okay?” 

Lance feels indignation at this. “You’re the one who baked the cookies in the first place, dude!”

Keith nods at this furiously, and Hunk laughs sheepishly.

“Oh. Right. I did.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow at this, immediately going into Space-Dad mode. “Why exactly did you two think this was a good idea?” 

Hunk sighs. “I didn’t know that the stoners would be baking in the kitchen that day until it was too late. I’m innocent, I swear!”

Shiro still seems like he doesn’t believe him, but lets it go. He directs his gaze at Lance. “So, you didn’t have a cookie, then?”

Lance shakes his head and shrugs. “Nope. Hunk was passing those cookies out like they were candy, and about half the Garrison pretty much got stoned. There weren’t enough cookies to go around when he got to me. I guess it was a blessing in disguise.”

“I had to babysit the two of them because they each had, like, three cookies each. Do you know how unsettling it was to be around someone who believes that the Mothman is real and have that increased by, like, one hundred? Because I do,” Lance gives a pointed look at Keith, and the latter crosses his arms. 

“I stand by my theories,” Keith says defensively, and Shiro laughs a little. 

“Okay, okay. No one’s in trouble. Pidge, you’re next.”

Pidge had seemed more than happy just to sit and listen to them bickering with each other, and hung her head at Shiro’s words. “Okay, let me think.”

She looks at Lance with an indecipherable expression before it breaks into a small grin. 

“Never have I ever stayed up for three days straight watching Spider-Man.”

Lance makes a finger go down, and everyone turns to look at him. Hunk snickers.

“No judging, okay? I was running on Red Bull and determined to watch all of the Spider-Man movies that have ever been made,” Lance justifies, and Pidge shakes her head.

“I know I shouldn’t have made that dare. There’s like sixty movies altogether.” 

Hunk exhales deeply, trying not to laugh again. “Yeah, Lance always follows through on his dares.”

Oh no. Lance did not like the sound of what Hunk was implying. “Okay, guys. The game is called Never Have I Ever, not Let’s Make Fun of Lance,” He points out. 

Pidge adjusts her glasses. “We’re not technically making fun of you. We’re just heavily judging your life decisions,” She corrects.

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, like that’s any better.”

“Anyway, Keith, it’s your turn.”

Keith hums, thinking to himself about what to offer in the game. “Never have I ever… reenacted the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti scene,” Keith says, smirking at the undignified look on Shiro’s face.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that,” Shiro says, facepalming, but puts a finger down anyway.

“Aww, did you do that scene with Adam? That’s just so sweet,” Hunk teases, a playful lilt to his voice. 

“Okay, this isn’t the Let’s Make Fun of Shiro game either, so give it a rest,” Shiro suggests firmly, but his face is flushed with embarrassment. The rest of the group laughs at Shiro’s expense, causing him to turn even redder. 

“I got dirt on you, too, Keith. I’ll remember that,” Shiro says, giving Keith an all-knowing look. Keith ducks his head down, probably heavily regretting his decision to call Shiro out on his lovesickness. 

The game goes on, and Lance learns a few things about his friends that he didn’t know before. Like how Pidge shaved her brother’s head when she was six, but only by accident. How Hunk used to have an imaginary friend named Sluggo, who, by all intents and purposes, was kind of a dick, by the way Hunk described him. How Keith survived out in the desert on ramen noodles and cactus water for the first few weeks out there because he absolutely refused to go to the store. And how Shiro has an unhealthy obsession with candles, which Lance had to admit, he did not see coming.

Lance tried to be as honest as he could, as well as without being too angsty, but that left little to talk about, so he resorted to redirecting the conversation to someone else without being too obvious. From the worried looks Hunk is giving him, however, his method is clearly not working.

“And what seems to be all the ruckus in here?” Coran’s voice asks from the doorway, and all the paladins turn to look at the man. 

Coran looks exhausted and a little downcast, but his eyes are full of curiosity. 

“We were just playing a game. Did you talk to the princess? What did she say?” Lance inquires, and Coran sighs.

“After a firm talk about the situation, she agreed to reboot the entire Castle. However, you all need to stay together and in the same room while this happens; otherwise, something could go horribly wrong.”

Coran pauses and then broadens his shoulders. “She also said there are some more important matters to discuss when she regains her strength.” 

Lance and Keith look at each other knowingly while the others just look puzzled. 

“Is everything okay?” Shiro asks cautiously, and Coran firmly nods his head.

“It is. However, the matter she wants to discuss should wait until she is present. It is nothing bad, I promise.”

Everyone seems to relax at this.

“Good. Now, would anyone be interested in something to eat?”

Lance narrows his eyes at Coran. “Couldn’t the food goo machine malfunction or something?” He asks pointedly. He knows Coran will get the not-so-subtle hint.

“Man, Lance. You always seem to think of the worst-case scenario,” Hunk groans but continues to observe Lance with questioning eyes. 

Lance ignores Hunk’s complaining. Coran crosses his arms and closes his eyes, thinking to himself silently. “I suppose I could pull out some old Altean snacks,” Coran finally says, and Hunk does not like the sound of that.

“Wouldn’t they be, like, expired?” Hunk asks, scrunching his face in disgust.

Coran tuts. “Nonsense. Altean snacks have no expiration date. Stay right here, and I’ll be back.” Coran exits the room, coming back a few minutes later with his arms full of snacks. 

“Here are the finest snacks that Alteans have offered throughout the years,” Coran announces proudly and promptly throws all the snacks in the circle. Everyone goes to grab something, and Lance suspects that he’s forgetting something important. 

There’s a good reason he shouldn’t be indulging in these Altean delicacies, but why? He hesitantly grabs a bag of what looks like green potato chips, cringing. 

“You sure these aren’t expired?” He asks Coran again, and the Altean has the gall to roll his eyes.

“Of course they aren’t expired! Now, down the hatch!” He ushers, and Lance opens his bag. He looks at the space chips with wariness, the doubt in his mind swirling.

He’s missing something important.

But what is it?

Lance watches his fellow paladins eagerly eat their snacks. “Lance, come on! Try these; they’re really good!” Hunk exclaims, his mouth full. He has the same chips Lance has, and Lance decides to bite the bullet and try them.

The chips are really good.

However, they have a weird aftertaste that he can’t identify and says as much.

“I don’t taste it,” Hunk shrugs, chewing rather loudly. 

Knowing Lance’s luck, there’s probably poison laced in his bag, and he just signed his death sentence. 

He chews a chip absentmindedly, trying to place the familiar taste in his mouth. It’s metallic, and his mouth is tingling a little. 

Oh shit.

“You alright, Lance? The chips aren’t that bad, are they?” Shiro asks, his tone amused.

Lance shakes his head, trying to play it cool. “No, they’re not bad at all. I just think I might be allergic to them.”

Silence.

“Are you serious?” Keith doesn’t even sound surprised at this point. Lance sincerely wishes he weren't. 

Lance ignores him and looks at Coran, clearing his throat. It’s getting harder to breathe all of a sudden. “Do you have the Altean equivalent of an Epi-Pen?”

Coran stares at him blankly. “An Epi-what?”

Shiro starts to look concerned, staring at Lance with worry. “It’s a medicine we use on Earth to deal with allergic reactions,” He explains to Coran, then stops to think for a moment. “Do Alteans not have allergic reactions?”

Coran seems to think for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Oh, you must mean a Lata-Needle. Hold your horses, I’ll be right back!” Coran zips out of the room, and everyone gives Lance the look. 

Lance clears his throat again. 

Hunk eats a chip quite loudly, causing everyone to turn and stare. “What? I’m not allergic to them,” He reasons.

Coran returns quickly with a giant case that’s the length of his forearm. Lance breaks out into a sweat, which is totally not because of this newfound allergy. He does not like where this is going. He remembers that thing now.

The Altean opens the box and pulls out a needle that’s the same size as the case that it came in, and Lance crawls backward. “Uh-uh. Nope. Not happening.”

Shiro goes over to Lance slowly, trying not to spook him. “Kiddo. You need this.”

“I really don’t,” Lance says, standing up and leaning against a nearby table. Coran takes a single step forward, the needle coming a whole foot closer. “Coran, put that thing back where it came from, or so help me,” Lance says, climbing over the table with difficulty so he can reach the other side. He squints at everyone in suspicion. 

“I’ll just ride this out; it’ll be fine,” Lance insists, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

“Dude, you cannot ride out anaphylaxis. You will die,” Pidge says, her voice full of concern. 

Lance scoffs. “Do you guys see the size of that needle? I’m not getting stabbed with that thing,” He says, scratching his neck again.

“Lance, you even have hives,” Keith points toward Lance’s neck, and Lance stops scratching.

“Number Three, I’m sorry to be the voice of reason here, but this is the only way. The healing pods are out of commission right now, and the rebooting processing takes well over six vargas, which is time you don’t have,” Coran says apologetically, and Lance can tell he means it. 

Lance can also tell that he’s beginning to feel lightheaded and promptly passes out.

When Lance finally wakes up, he finds that his leg is really sore. 

“I got stabbed with the needle, didn’t I?” Lance asks out loud, sure that someone is with him.

He hears Keith sigh. “You didn’t get stabbed.”

“No, no, don’t sugarcoat it, Keith. He very much was stabbed, and now I completely understand his point of view.” He hears Hunk’s voice, which sounds quite relieved that Lance is awake. 

“Yeah, I’m glad Lance was passed out for that because I imagine that sucker would’ve hurt,” Pidge says, sidling up to Hunk. 

“I almost passed out for it,” Shiro’s voice says from further away, and there are a few quiet laughs in response. 

Lance sits up and hisses at the pain in his leg. He sees the bandage that completely wraps around his thigh and winces. “Ow.” Lance looks around the room, seeing that everyone is watching him cautiously. Coran looks like he feels awful, and Lance tries to convey forgiveness in his expression. 

Coran finally clears his throat; thankfully, the giant needle from before is nowhere to be seen. “Now, are there any other allergies we need to know about, Number Three?” He asks pointedly, accusation in his eyes.

Lance shrugs. “Uh, shellfish?” 

Pidge raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Shellfish?” 

Lance sniffs dismissively. “What? Is my shellfish allergy too tame for you?”

Hunk seems to have come to a realization. “So that’s why you don’t eat seafood.”

Keith pats Lance on the shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, at least it’s better than Shiro’s,” He says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the man in question. 

Shiro crosses his arms, not amused. “Okay, Mr. Bee Allergy,” He says, and Keith looks offended that his greatest weakness had been said out loud for all to hear. 

“Okay, you lovesick asshole, you asked for it,” Keith says seethingly and turns around to face the rest of the group. “Shiro is allergic to chocolate. Wanna know how he found out? On the first Valentine’s Day he spent with Adam, he ate the whole box of chocolates Adam got him for their date. They spent the rest of the day together in the ER.”

Shiro splutters. “That’s–I–how–why?”

Keith looks exceedingly proud of himself. 

“Man, you guys got some unique allergies. I’m only allergic to pollen,” Hunk says, shrugging.

Pidge, however, stands tall, putting her hands on her hips victoriously. “Allergies are for the weak, suckers.”

Everyone is not amused.

“Okay, but seriously,” Lance starts, directing a serious look to Coran. “I didn’t think I would have been allergic to some Altean space snack. Is there any way to tell what I’m allergic to in space?”

Coran senses the honesty in Lance’s words and gives him a concerned look. “Well, we can conduct an allergy skin test, which I’m assuming you have on Earth as well?”

Everyone, save for Pidge, groans at this. “Those tests suck,” Keith says simply. “I couldn’t have put it more eloquently,” Shiro agrees, looking nauseous at even the thought of the cursed allergy test. Hunk groans.

“I’ll take my chances,” Lance shrugs, quickly getting up from the table he was lying upon, just in case Coran decides to conduct these tests against his will. 

Coran looks disappointed. “How else are you guys going to know what to avoid? Would you rather deal with the Lata-Needle ?”

Lance thinks for a moment but then shrugs again. “Eh, it’ll be fine.”

He stretches his arms and yawns, feeling tired despite the short, although unexpected, nap he took only a short while ago. 

Shiro sighs before leveling Coran with a promising look. “If it happens again to any of us, we’ll undergo the tests, okay?”

Everyone cries out indignantly at this, and Coran seems smug.

This conversation happened before, and Lance finally remembers. It just wasn’t between all the paladins. It was between just Lance and Coran. 

“I’m sorry, Number Three. If I had any idea you were allergic to these, I would have never given them to you,” Coran said apologetically, dabbing at Lance’s forehead with a cool rag.

“Don’t sweat it, Coran. It’s no big deal,” Lance waved the apology away, instead glaring at the giant Lata-Needle resting on a table just a few feet away.

“You could’ve died.”

Those words didn’t really concern Lance enough to have him worried, but they definitely concerned Coran. 

“Until I can identify what exact ingredient you’re allergic to in that snack, you might need to stick to food goo for now,” Coran suggested, and he looked guilty as he said so.

“Okay,” Lance simply nodded, getting up from the bed he was lying in. 

He had eaten an Altean snack Coran had given him during a short break they had from cleaning the pods. Lance had an allergic reaction, which led to Coran leading him to the infirmary and promptly stabbing him with the dreaded Lata-Needle. It hurt horribly, and Lance passed out during the injection because the pain was so bad. He woke up to Coran taking care of him.

Lance stood up, shaking slightly as he did so, and Coran steadied him. “You should also take it easy.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Lance felt a tiny bit guilty for brushing off Coran like this, but he didn’t like being doted on, especially by a man Coran’s age. 

Coran reminded Lance too much of his father right then, and he didn’t want to think about that.

He needed to go lie down.

“How much longer is this gonna take?” Hunk groans, lying back on the floor in a starfish position. 

Everyone looks to Coran for the answer, and he sighs. “About three more vargas. Just hang in there a little longer. You could all take a nap if you wish?” The Altean suggests, and Lance doesn’t like that idea. 

“Everyone can sleep, and I’ll keep watch in case something happens,” He immediately says, and he gets funny looks in return. “What?”

“Why are you so paranoid lately?” Hunk asks, his voice full of concern.

Lance shrugs. ‘Because I almost died the last time the Castle was on the fritz.’

“Because.”

Nobody seems to like that answer, but they listen anyway, all except for Shiro.

Lance leans against the wall near the doorway, so he can react fast in case something happens. 

He doesn’t know for sure if the Castle is messed up enough to send a murderous training robot after them, but he’s not taking any chances.

Shiro joins him, giving him a curious look. “Are you okay, Lance? Hunk was right earlier; you seem a bit more paranoid than before when I knew you at the Garrison. Is something wrong?”

Lance is caught off guard by this, but he knows he shouldn’t be. 

He tries to give a polite smile, but it probably comes off more strained. “Just everything, I guess. Getting shot up into space and getting involved in a space war will take it out of you,” He says honestly, and Shiro nods in understanding. 

“I’ll make sure you all get out of this war alive, okay? I promise, Lance,” Shiro vows, placing a hand on his heart. Lance starts to feel uneasy.

“Include yourself in that promise, and then maybe I’ll feel better.” 

Shiro looks a bit relieved at this, but still a bit unsure. “I’ll try to include myself, but I’ll put you guys first. Always.”

Lance pretends to like that answer.

The conversation comes to a silent stop, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s more of a pondering silence, as if both Shiro and Lance are thinking of things to say. 

“So, are you serious about setting Keith up with someone? You really think that’s going to go well?” Shiro ends up asking with a playful smile on his face.

Lance laughs a bit. “I’ll try if he’s really serious about it, but I don’t want to pressure him. I don’t like meddling in things that don’t need meddling in, y’know?”

In the past timeline, Hunk had really been the only exception since the poor man had been filled with persistent doubt that Shay wouldn’t like him back. This was incomprehensible to Lance, considering he could smell the romantic chemistry between them from a mile away and took matters into his own hands, starting by cashing in on a favor Hunk owed him. Hunk had relented, albeit grouchily, and ended up following Lance’s plan to a T. 

Shay liked Hunk back, and the rest was history.

Lance had been very proud of himself for that one. 

Shiro looks satisfied with Lance’s answer. “I think he’ll appreciate that. He hates being pressured into things. I learned that pretty early on.” Lance gives a bewildered look at this, and Shiro shakes his head. “Keith should tell you that story, as it’s not completely mine to tell.” 

Lance hums in response and brings his knees up to his chest. His blanket feels warm, and he’s still a bit tired, despite the coffee he and Keith drank earlier. 

“You can go to sleep, Lance. I’ll keep watch.”

He feels a comforting hand on his head, and Shiro’s voice sounds far away. “Okay,” Lance mumbles plainly and allows his eyes to close. He lets sleep take him, and if he thinks hard enough, he can remember the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and hear his father’s comforting voice.

“Papa,” A five-year-old Lance whined, his voice filled with pain and fatigue. He had gotten a bad case of the stomach flu on his first day of kindergarten, and now he was holding his father hostage in his room, tending to his every need. Missing his first two weeks of school wasn’t exactly favorable, but there was nothing anybody could really do about it.

“It’s okay, soleado. Just try to relax,” His father’s voice was reassuring. Lance opened his eyes to look at his father, sniffing and wiping away his tears.

“My head hurts,” He sobbed, and Lance’s father looked pained.

“I know, Lance. If you keep crying, it’ll only make it hurt worse.”

His father’s hand came up and gently wiped away any sweaty hair that was plastered to his son’s forehead. 

The smell of chocolate chip pancakes wafted throughout the house, and Lance had cried some more at that, lamenting at the fact that he couldn’t even eat any, considering he was too nauseous to hold anything down.

Suddenly, the door was slammed open, and when Lance and his father looked over, Uncle Ricardo was standing there, holding an IV bag and multiple Gatorades in his hands.

“Uh,” Lance’s father had been lost for words.

“I hate listening to sick kids,” Uncle Ricardo had said blankly and promptly sat down on the other side of Lance’s bed, gently positioning Lance’s arm so he could see his veins.

“You don’t have to do that. I could call my wife,” Lance’s father had started, but his brother quickly shushed him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

If five-year-old Lance was honest, he had been too stunned at his Uncle’s seemingly out-of-character behavior to keep crying, so he really only felt a pinch when his Uncle administered the IV.

“How did you even get a hold of that?” Lance’s father asked, grateful at the fact that Lance seemed to have finally calmed down, and he had, but it wasn’t for the reasons he thought.

Lance gently patted his Uncle’s hand. “Gracias, Tio.”

“I’m a doctor. Of course, I would have access to something as tame as this,” Uncle Ricardo had said proudly and looked pointedly at his brother, giving him the Gatorades to carry. “Try not to force too much liquid on him at once, or he’ll throw up all over you. I had to deal with it with Miguel,” Uncle Ricardo said dismissively.

“Thank you, brother,” Lance’s father had said kind-heartedly.

“Yeah, yeah, no big deal,” Uncle Ricardo said as he got up from the bed, but he patted his nephew’s hand gently. “Try to get better, nephew. You’re worrying your siblings.”

Lance nodded firmly. “I’ll try.”

Uncle Ricardo didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. “You better.”

His uncle left, and Lance and his father eventually calmed down enough to take naps, resulting in them waking up at eleven o’clock at night. 

“Damn it,” Lance’s father cursed when he realized what time it was, and Lance gasped.

“Language,” He said in a bubbly tone, and his father chuckled.

“Ha ha, very funny.” His father regarded him with worried eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

Lance hummed in response. “I’m hungry,” He said simply, and his father nodded.

“Me too. What do you want to eat?”

Lance knew the answer immediately. “Pancakes.”

His father laughed again. “Sounds good to me. Let’s try to be quiet so we don’t wake the rest of the house, okay?”

The two sneak out of the room where they were held hostage and get to work on making pancakes. They speak in whispered tones as they make the pancakes, trying their best not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere. 

When they finished making their late-night dinner, they both sat down and ate their pancakes wordlessly. “Sorry you had to miss work the past few days,” Lance apologized clumsily, still trying to get used to how the English words felt coming out of his mouth. Learning two languages simultaneously was tough work, but his family insisted he was doing a great job.

“Don’t apologize. I love staying home with my kids. I just wish it were under better circumstances, is all,” Lance’s father said comfortingly, patting the top of Lance’s head soothingly. 

Lance smiled childishly; his cheeks were full of pancake. “Me too.”

His father sighed before smiling again. It was something he always did when he wanted to change the subject. “Do you want to hear the time I almost punched my flight instructor in the face?”

Lance nodded rapidly. His father let out a quiet snicker before getting into it, and Lance listened closely. 

He hadn’t told his father yet, but Lance wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, so he needed to learn everything there was to learn before he got there. 

Lance just hoped his father would be around to see him get to that point.

Chapter Text

When Lance finally wakes up from his unintended nap, he’s happy to find that the Castleship has finished rebooting. 

However, the crushed look on Coran’s face is far from reassuring.

Lance looks around him, noticing that Shiro is starting to nod off, and promptly throws his blanket over the older man’s head. He stands up, stretching his arms and legs a bit before walking up to Coran, trying to convey how sorry he is through his expression. 

“How are you? And Allura, is she okay?” Lance asks and immediately curses himself for the stupid question. Allura just lost her father for the second time. Nobody would be okay with that.

Coran gives Lance a withering look, sighing heavily.  “I’m alright. I was going to check on Allura, but my emotions got the better of me,” Coran says despairingly, finally taking a moment to just sit down in a nearby seat. He leans forward and puts his head in his hands, making a soft, sad sound like he’s trying to hold back tears. 

Lance stands there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do or say. He breathes lightly, not wanting to infringe on the moment. Finally, it dawns on him what he could do to help ease the situation.

“I’ll go talk to Allura. I know what it’s like,” Lance says, surely, and Coran shoots his head up, looking at Lance with sad eyes.

“Lance, that’s not necessary. I’ll talk to Allura myself, and I don’t want to bring up any bad–”

Lance simply holds a hand up, giving a stunningly fake smile. “No bad memories here. I’ll only talk about good ones; there are a ton of them,” He says and then shrugs. “It helps me to talk about it, and I think it might help Allura.” Lance is lying when he says that talking about his father will help him, but he’s not when he thinks about Allura. Lance knows it’ll help her at the very least.

Coran sighs again, massaging his temples. “If you insist,” He says, looking tired, and Lance nods.

“I’ll be back later.” Lance gives a thumbs-up for good measure and hesitantly leaves the room, nervousness coursing through his body. The lights are still off throughout the Castle, which gives Lance the major creeps, considering they should be on by now. 

However, the temperature regulation seems to be fixed as it doesn’t feel nearly as cold as earlier, which Lance is grateful for. He walks through the hallways, glancing around and hoping that fake-Coran’s voice doesn’t call out for him and that Alfor’s AI doesn’t make a guest star appearance. Thankfully, neither event happens, and Lance safely makes it to Allura’s room. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He clears his throat nervously and ruffles his hair, trying to find his nerve. “It’ll be fine,” He mutters to himself and knocks on the door when it doesn’t slide open automatically. A few moments later, Allura answers the door, her eyes slightly swollen and red from crying. She’s clutching a tissue in her hand, but she still smiles when she sees Lance. 

“Hello, Lance. I assume the Castleship has finished rebooting?” She says questioningly and steps to the side to allow him to enter her room. Lance takes a small step inside, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“It has. I was wondering how you were doing,” He says honestly, and she closes her eyes as if it’ll make him disappear from her presence.

“I’m… as well as anyone can be after losing their father again,” Allura says calmly, but her lip quivers as she does.

Lance nods in understanding. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Before she can answer with a resounding no, Lance is quick to elaborate. “It doesn’t have to be about what just happened. It can be about anything,” He says, and she takes a deep breath, thinking about it. 

“I suppose we can. But only for a little while, alright?” She sets a boundary, and Lance accepts it.

“Of course. Would you like to stay here and talk, or would you rather we talk elsewhere?”Allura actually shrugs at this, causing Lance to smile a bit. “We could go to the observation deck if you’re able to make the walk,” Lance suggests, and Allura nods. “Alright. Shall we?” 

Lance offers his arm, and Allura actually grabs it, causing his eyes to widen. He wasn’t expecting her to humor his poor attempt at being a gentleman. Nevertheless, he doesn’t flirt or make any crude jokes. They walk out of her room and turn down a hallway, going toward the observation deck. 

He tells Allura about the unintentional bonding exercise he and the others did while she was recovering, and she seems relieved that no one was hurt. “You guys are getting along more easily than I would have imagined,” She says incredulously, but she seems obviously pleased. “I wish I were there to see it,” Allura says, and Lance shakes his head. 

“No, there’ll be plenty more bonding exercises you’ll bear witness to. You needed to rest, and I’m sure we probably would’ve worn you out even more.”

Allura seems a bit indignant at this. “I am not fragile, Lance.”

Lance knows this and clarifies. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to say that with the Castleship and your father’s AI, it might not have been the best time for you to deal with us laughing and goofing around like it’s no big deal.”

After thinking about his answer, she seems appreciative. “Alright. I suppose that makes sense.”

A few minutes later, they make it to the observation deck. Lance guides them over to the usual spot he sits at: a bench that he moved to sit right in front of the viewing window. Allura raises an eyebrow at this, and Lance rubs his neck sheepishly. “I come in here a little when I need to think. Sorry that I moved it without asking.”

Allura shakes her head at this. “You all live here now. As long as you don’t break or steal anything, you are welcome to use the Castleship and everything in it as you wish.”

They both sit on the bench, and Allura lets go of Lance’s arm. He tries to ignore the cold feeling that comes from this. 

Allura sighs deeply, fiddling with her hands a bit. “I am not quite sure what to say right now. Would you mind talking while I get my bearings?” Allura looks like she’s about to cry again, and Lance nods his head. He thinks about what to say. 

“Do you wanna hear about the time my dad and I rode a motorcycle together?” Lance asks, smiling as he remembers the day in great detail.

Allura tilts her head curiously. “What’s a motorcycle?” She asks, her lips forming the last word as if it feels uncomfortable to say.

Lance describes it to the best of his ability, and Allura nods her head, although she’s clearly still a little confused as to what the point of a motorcycle is. 

“Anyway,” Lance clears his throat. “My dad always said he wanted to ride one at least once, and one day, my Uncle Ricardo got him one for his birthday.”

For the first time in Lance’s eight-year-old life, he witnessed his father become speechless. He kept opening his mouth as if to say something and closing it, like a fish out of water. He wasn’t capable of any words. 

“I know, I know, she’s gorgeous, right?” Uncle Ricardo said smugly, a proud and toothy grin on his face. 

The motorcycle was a beautiful, shiny red that glittered in the sunlight, with the last name McClain written in dark blue lettering along the side. 

Lance’s father had simply nodded, and the rest of the family laughed at his reaction. Uncle Ricardo twirled the keys on his finger in a flourish before handing them to his brother. “Go test her out, little brother.”

Lance’s father had taken off, gently inserting the keys in the ignition before hearing the engine purr. He smiled delightedly and rode off, his family cheering behind him in excitement. He went around the block ten times before he stopped at the house again, his windswept hair blown around his face, and his clothes rustled from the wind. 

“Does anyone want to ride with me?” He asked, a childish light in his eyes, and Lance raised his hand first.

“I do!” He answered eagerly, and his father laughed.

“Come here, soleado,” Lance’s father beckons him, his arms outstretched, and Lance runs toward him. His father plopped a helmet on his head and helped him up, Lance hugging his father’s back tightly. “Hold on tight, Lance,” His father warned gently and took off so fast that Lance would have fallen off the back if he wasn’t grabbing something.

“Be careful!” Lance heard his mother shout as they rode down the street. Lance’s father seemed to immediately remember that he was hauling his kid around as well and reached behind him to pat Lance’s back comfortingly, slowing down the ride. “Sorry, Lance. My emotions got the best of me,” Lance’s father said sheepishly, but Lance didn’t have it.

“It’s okay. It just scared me. You can go fast again, Papa!” Lance reassured.

His dad did go a bit faster, but not as fast as he was going, which left Lance slightly guilty that his father had to slow down because of him. 

Eventually, the ride stopped back at their house, and Lance tried his best not to look disappointed. He rushed to get off the bike by himself, but the pant leg of his jeans got caught on the footrest, causing him to stumble. Lance lost his balance and fell onto the concrete, busting his lip in the process. 

His father jumped off the bike and scooped Lance up in his arms, checking him over and whispering small apologies under his breath. 

Lance’s mother rushed over quickly with an ointment that she pulled out of God knows where and applied it, cooing at her youngest son not to cry. 

Lance, however, grinned at his parents, who seemed to wince at how much blood was leaking down his face. Nonetheless, he was unconcerned by this and just asked a simple question. 

“Can we please go again?”

Allura’s laughter is soft and like a bell, and Lance has to force himself to smile at this. 

Talking about his late father didn’t usually help since it really didn’t bring him any closure. His last conversation with his father had been over a damn birthday cake, not anything really important, and this fact haunted Lance. “Behave for your mother,” had been his father’s last words to him, and Lance had obeyed that last order to a T, never giving his mother more trouble than necessary.

The death had been sudden and unexpected, according to the doctors. They had expected Lance’s father to live at least into his seventies due to his heart condition, but he only died at the age of 46. 

Lance thinks the unexpected side of his death is the huge reason why Lance can never accept it. He never really got to say goodbye.

Allura senses the change in mood and quiets her laughter, grasping onto her tissue. “My father did the same with me, except it was with the Red Lion,” Allura relates, and Lance really does smile this time.

“Yeah? Was it fun?”

“Oh, very fun. My father would do the most absurd tricks and flips just to make me laugh. He is–” Allura cuts herself off, sighing wistfully. “ –Was such a fun-loving man.”

Lance puts a comforting hand on her back, rubbing gently to soothe her. “So was mine.”

Allura wants to ask something, and to Lance, it’s obvious what the question is. “How did your father die?”

Lance sighs, dropping his hand from her back in favor of ruffling his hair, trying to psyche himself up enough to answer. “He had a heart condition,” Lance starts, and Allura nods along. “It made his heart weaker than it normally should be. He had a heart attack, and the condition only made it worse.”

Allura pats his hand before holding it softly. “I’m sorry about your father,” She says genuinely, and Lance smiles gravely.

“I’m sorry about your father, too.”

The two hold hands for a while, just soaking in the presence of another person who feels the same grief. Eventually, Allura lets go. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell the team about Zarkon sooner,” She says, looking almost frustrated at herself. “I know you all would’ve found out eventually, but I still kept it from you.” Allura shrugs her shoulders. “But instead, I just held onto the false hope that it wouldn’t matter. That Zarkon being the last Black Paladin wouldn’t make a difference since we have new paladins now. I was wrong to keep that kind of information from you all, and for that, I’m sorry.”

While they’re on the subject, Lance decides to bring up some points that they really shouldn’t find out about until later, but beggars can’t be choosers. Now’s as good a time as any, right?

“Since Zarkon was the original black paladin, do you think he still has his bayard?”

Allura registers Lance’s question before looking horrified. “How did I not think of that sooner?” She mutters. Allura turns towards Lance, a more determined look in her eye. “You make an excellent point, Lance,” she says, and Lance feels flattered that he’s being listened to for once. “We’ll have to consider this in the plans when we finally go against Zarkon,” Allura says definitively. 

“Do you think Zarkon could be tracking our location through the Black Lion?” Lance continues to ask, knowing that he’s probably pushing his luck. “We still don’t know how they found out we were on the Balmera,” He clarifies, and Allura scrunches her nose, unsure whether to ponder Lance’s question.

“You’d think after ten thousand years, Zarkon’s bond with the Black Lion would wither by now,” Allura says thoughtfully, not rejecting Lance’s idea but also not accepting it.

“You would,” Lance agrees. “But many things can happen in ten thousand years. Shiro did only just start flying Black. He probably needs a little more time to bond with his Lion.” Allura looks a bit taken aback at Lance’s logic, and he laughs nervously. “But what do I know, right? These are just stupid theories I’m throwing around; they’re just guesses.”

“They’re very reasonable guesses,” Allura admits, looking as if she’s been enlightened. She suddenly stands up, dusting off her nightgown as she does. Lance looks up at her in confusion. She spares him a confident grin. “I’m going to get changed, and then I’ll tell you all everything.”

Allura takes a step, then immediately staggers as if she has lost her balance. Lance gets up to steady her, grabbing her arm gently. “I’ll walk you back to your room. The talk can wait until you’ve had a bit more rest,” Lance says.

The princess frowns. “All I’ve been doing is resting. I’m downright tired of it,” She complains, but grabs onto Lance’s arm anyway. Lance tries to resist smiling at the irony of her statement. 

He walks her back to her room, both giving each other little tidbits about their fathers on the way. 

“My father was an excellent baker,” Lance offers, and Allura cracks a soft smile.

“My father hated cooking,” She says, a reminiscent look in her eyes. 

Their conversation lasts a few more minutes until they get to her room.

Allura enters but stands in the doorway for a moment. She looks at Lance over her shoulder, gratefulness strewn across her features. “Thank you for the talk, Lance. It made me feel a lot better.”

The door closes, and Lance is left outside her room, touching his arm absentmindedly.

In the last timeline, he never heard her talk about Altea or her father this much, and certainly didn’t take the time to learn and listen. Lance never really got to know Allura as well as he thought he did.

Lance wasn’t the best of friends, nor was he a good boyfriend to Allura, he realizes.

He’s going to change that, at least, the friend part anyway.

As much as he still loves and cares for Allura, Lance doesn’t quite know for sure if he can court her again or not. He doesn’t know if he’s emotionally stable enough to date, now or in the future. The Allura he did date is dead, and this one is alive. They seem like two completely different people in Lance’s eyes. It’s like that with everyone else. 

They all seem like completely different people, yet it’s like what white-haired Shiro said. 

“We’re different versions of each other, but we’re also one and the same.”

As much as Lance tries to remember that and tries to remember the older versions of his friends, he keeps coming up blank. A familiar kind of sadness starts to plague Lance’s heart, which he recognizes as grief.

All the memories he had with his friends in the previous timeline are gone. And yes, while his friends have some sort of deja vu about specific events, it’s not the same as really remembering. His friends in this timeline don’t necessarily feel like strangers, but they also don’t feel familiar, and Lance feels so guilty for thinking of it that way.

Lance is the only one left from the previous timeline, and he’s never felt so alone.

After moping around in the hallway for thirty minutes, he makes it to the bridge and notices that everyone’s awake. 

Coran stands up from his chair, a worried look on his face. “How is she?”

Lance remains nonchalant, his hands stuffed in his pockets to avoid the fidgeting he so badly wants to do. “She said she felt better after talking about it,” He informs. Coran looks relieved, and Pidge decides to chime in on the conversation she’s not a part of. 

“Wait, did you talk to Allura?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, I wanted to check and see how she was doing,” Lance says dismissively, not wanting to get into the why and explain everything. Lance clears his throat before continuing. “She says she’ll be down here in a little while to talk to us, so…” He trails off, not knowing what else to say.

“Is it about what Coran said earlier?” Keith asks, and the rest of the team looks between the three, clearly displeased about being out of the loop.

Keith doesn’t seem to care, awaiting Lance’s answer. Lance nods silently. Keith doesn’t say anything else and crosses his arms, opting to lean against a nearby table instead.

“Wait a second, Coran told you guys already? What’s it about?” Hunk asks with a bewildered tone of voice.

“About the true history of the original black paladin,” Allura’s voice rings out, and everyone turns to look at her. She is in her everyday dress now, her hair in a high bun. She walks up to the team, albeit a bit more slowly than normal, Lance notes. 

Allura stands in front of them, an almost guilty expression on her face. Her fingers twiddle together as she tries to figure out what to say, and her eyes are focused on the ground. 

After a few moments of silence, she exhales deeply before meeting the team’s eyes.

“Zarkon was the original Black Paladin.”

The team is stunned for a moment before everyone immediately starts asking questions. Allura answers everyone calmly, trying to remain as thorough and detailed as she can.

Shiro doesn’t seem angry or frustrated by this information compared to last time. He seems more restrained and calm, lost in thought as if he isn’t sure what to think of all of this. 

“Lance brought up the idea that Zarkon could still have the Black Lion’s bayard,” Allura informs, and the team turns to look at him.

“It was just an idea,” Lance says weakly, not liking the fact that his words are being acknowledged for once. He just wanted to lie low; he didn’t want to be dragged into this conversation.

Everyone seems to consider this. “It’s hardly a bad one,” Shiro says finally. “Where else would the bayard be?”

“So, what’s our next step?” Hunk asks after the conversation comes to a close. Everybody seems a bit more reassured after hearing the truth about Zarkon, and Lance feels relieved. 

If Lance remembers correctly, they’re supposed to be finding the ‘Universal Station’ at this point, where they found all that quintessence. However, without Sendak’s memories, Lance is entirely sure how they’re supposed to find it this time.

What did Pidge say she cross-referenced that led to them finding the ‘Universal Station’ last time?

Lance frowns. Killing Sendak will work out in the long run, but it also leaves a few obstacles in the way. After all, Lance wanted to change only a few things, not the entire course of the journey they went through in the last timeline. They can’t just skip finding the ‘Universal Station’; that’s a crucial step.

Oh. Lance remembers now.

“Pidge, did you happen to find any important info on the downed ship back on Arus?” Lance asks, pretending to look stumped.

Pidge looks pleased that he remembered. “Yes, actually. After everyone woke up, I decided to go back and look through everything we got. Most of it was a garbled mess, but there was one thing that kept repeating, something called a ‘Universal Station.’”

Bingo.

The team decides to go to the coordinates the ship left behind, and Lance subtly hints to Coran what the exact location of the Space Base is. The Altean looks a bit concerned but puts them in anyway, giving Lance a funny look. 

The Space Base comes into sight, and Allura announces that they’re all going down there to take a look. Lance wants to deny this and wants to tell her it’s a bad idea, but Allura can look very scary when her mind is made up about something. Shiro, of course, indulges her. The more help, the better. Coran looks even more concerned at this, looking at Lance with a suffering look. 

“Fine. Suit up,” Shiro says simply, side-eying Coran worriedly. They all do so, with Lance coming back first so he can let Coran know what’s up.

“Coran, if anything goes wrong down there, just know that we’ll be able to fix it.”

It’s subtle enough to anyone eavesdropping that Lance is simply comforting Coran, but obvious enough to the older Altean that something is definitely going to go wrong down there. Nevertheless, Coran doesn’t interject into the plans, and the team eventually heads down to the Station in the Green Lion.

They all make quick work of the Galran soldiers in the central control building, and Pidge starts to download the intel. A Galran ship arrives, and Hunk sends them off by impersonating a sentry. Lance gives him a quiet high-five. He always did find that incredibly smart.

 “There’s nothing useful here,” Pidge says as she studies the data, looking frustrated. “It’s just a schedule of the ships coming in and out.”

Allura points to the ship that just arrived. “Pidge, do you know where that ship is headed?”

Pidge hums. “It’s scheduled to be here for about half an hour, then head off to Central Command.”

Allura looks as if she’s had an ‘aha!’ moment and smiles. “That’s where they have the information we need, and I’m going to sneak aboard that ship and get it for us.”

Everyone looks worried at her confident remark. “How are you going to get in?” Keith asks, giving her a doubtful look. 

Allura demonstrates her shapeshifting abilities, her height growing to about nine feet tall, and her skin changing to a light shade of purple. 

The team balks at this. Pidge and Hunk start with many more questions than last time, causing Allura to narrow her eyebrows exasperatedly. She answers them nonetheless and explains she’ll need a change of costume, gesturing to a passed-out soldier just a few feet away. 

“I can’t let you go in there alone,” Shiro says firmly, and Allura gives him an indignant look.

“Excuse me? I do not need your permission,” She says. 

Lance steps up, raising Shiro’s arm high. “Shiro’s arm is the only Galra tech we have. We can use it to access their systems,” He explains lightly, and Pidge nods.

“I can monitor the download remotely from here.”

Allura sighs but relents anyway.

“How are you going to get Shiro on board?” Keith asks skeptically. 

A few moments later, the four paladins watch as Shiro jumps into a weapon container. Allura closes him in and starts pushing the container towards the ship. They eventually make it onto the ship unscathed. 

Keith looks down, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you think they have in all those giant containers?” He asks, looking down at two sentries lugging the containers around with ease. Lance knows the answer, wants to answer, but simply can’t. 

“Well, I suspect that it's sporks,” Hunk answers, and by the tone of his voice, Lance can tell he is not being sarcastic. Lance and Keith share a look before looking at Hunk, unimpressed.

Hunk goes on a small tangent about the necessity of sporks, but Lance can tell Keith isn’t listening.

“Maybe this guy will tell us,” Pidge gently butts in, and Lance looks back to see her hacking into the sentry’s system. “What is coming in and out of this station?”

“Interrogation detected. Initiating lockdown.” 

The sentry’s head slumps forward. Pidge mumbles something before tapping on her keyboard rapidly. 

“Whoa. Check out this guy,” Keith announces, and Hunk and Lance turn to see a Druid, who’s communicating with the sentries down below. 

“Whatever’s happening here that requires the base to be kept secret must have something to do with that scary dude,” Keith observes, then turns away. “I’m going to go check it out.”

Lance watches him walk out, wanting to say something but knowing it’ll be futile. Keith won’t listen to anyone when he has his mind made up on something. 

The door closes behind Keith, and Hunk gives Lance a weird look. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, his tone filled with confusion.

Lance shrugs. “He wouldn’t have listened to me either way, so why bother wasting my breath?” Lance knows those words sound harsh, but doesn’t take them back.

Pidge scoffs at this. “He totally would have listened to you. Don’t you know? The guy has a major–”

Hunk runs forward and slaps a hand over Pidge’s mouth. Her voice comes out muffled, and she looks at Hunk unimpressed. Lance simply raises an eyebrow. 

A few moments later, Hunk tortures the sentry by making it hit itself. Pidge promptly tells him to knock it off, and Hunk doesn’t, talking about his worries as he does so. Lance leans against a wall, staring off into space. 

“Did you guys think Keith was serious about being set up with someone?” Lance asks out of the blue, and Hunk sits up straight.

“Yeah, but I doubt you’ll find anyone able to keep up with him,” Hunk says good-naturedly, and Lance wonders why Hunk looks so happy to be talking about this.

“What do you think his type is?” He says, then, taking out a small notepad. 

Pidge sighs. “Tan skin and blue eyes,” She answers plainly, and Hunk gasps.

“Pidge!”

Lance hums in thought. There is one person on the Castleship who matches that description, besides himself, anyway. “Allura?” He says out loud, and Pidge facepalms. 

“Oh my God, you weren’t kidding when you said he was oblivious.”

Hunk shrugs. He leans in close to Pidge and mumbles something quietly, so quietly to where Lance can’t hear. Lance frowns.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Keith and Allura could, hypothetically, work. In the TV show they make about them in the future, Hunk said that Keith and Allura got together. Lance had obviously shut that down, claiming it was supposed to be ‘Lance and Allura,’ and that was that. But maybe not this time. 

“We’ve lost him already,” Pidge’s words suddenly cut in, and Lance looks over. Hunk and Pidge are giving him worried looks, and he smiles

“I think I’m going to set up Keith and Allura. What do you think?”

“Pidge, look what you did.”

“Me!?”

Shiro comes over the comms after a few minutes, and Pidge gets to work downloading the information. Keith finally comes in, too, showing them a visualization of the room full of quintessence. “What is that?” Pidge asks.

“The material is quintessence, the substance with the highest known energy per unit volume in the universe.” The sentry’s voice rings out monotonously. “Raw quintessence material is transported here from throughout the galaxy and refined into standardized Galra fuel requirements.”

“Did you guys hear that?” Pidge asks over the comms, and Coran’s worried voice answers.

“I can’t believe it! They’ve found a new way to acquire quintessence!”

Keith announces that he’s going to steal some and cuts off his comms. 

Shiro and Allura eventually get found out, and the three paladins wait to hear from their teammates with bated breath. 

Keith’s voice comes back over the comms. “Pidge, I need an extraction now!”

Shiro’s voice joins right after. “Pidge, we’re coming in hot!”

Everybody immediately packs up their equipment and makes a mad dash for the Green Lion. Lance knows what happens here. Keith will come back relatively unscathed, and Shiro will come back alone, without Allura in tow. 

Lance knows that’s what will happen, yet he can’t seem to stop himself from worrying. What if such a slight change from earlier on causes one of his teammates to get badly hurt? What if–

“Keith, get in! We still have to get Shiro and Allura!” Pidge notifies, and Keith hops into the Green Lion, his armor soaked in quintessence. He looks more beat up than last time, and Lance slowly walks up to him.

“You okay, man?”

“Just a bit winded,” Keith answers, looking down at his hands with a confused expression. Lance goes in for closer inspection and notices that Keith’s gloves have been burnt off. Thankfully, Keith’s hands don’t look injured in any way, but Lance could probably tell why, judging by the quintessence covering him. 

Still, Keith looks pretty shaken up. Lance goes to grab Keith’s hands, but stops himself. That would be weird. Keith probably wouldn’t appreciate it either. And honestly, Lance doesn’t know why he thought holding Keith’s hands would be a good idea. 

He cops out and clasps his own hands together, fidgeting nervously. Lance turns away, opting to look out of Pidge’s screen. The escape pod has just launched, and Lance feels a great sense of dread flood through his body as the pod comes closer. 

It’ll just be Shiro in there.

And when Shiro enters the Green Lion’s cockpit alone, downtrodden and frustrated, Lance wishes that just once, the universe would be nice and give them a break. 

It doesn’t, and probably never will.

The team enters the Castleship, with Shiro shooting off a quick order to Pidge. “Pidge, scan the intel from the ship. Find out where Zarkon’s central command is.”

“On it!” Pidge confirms as she logs into her system. Hunk stands beside her, studying the screen.

Coran notices Allura’s absence and walks up to Shiro, his expression tight. “Where’s Allura?”

“They captured her. She sacrificed herself to save me and the information,” Shiro says, then looks down. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“How is that possible?” Coran asks, and his eyes drift over to Lance. Lance sees accusation and betrayal in Coran’s eyes, and he looks down, slightly ashamed of himself. He should’ve given Coran a bigger heads-up earlier.

“We don’t have time to focus on what went wrong. I’m sorry that things didn’t go according to plan, but we’ve got to figure out how to make it right. Pidge, anything?” Shiro’s voice rings out, and Pidge looks up from her screen.

“Guys, look at this.” 

She brings up a layout of Zarkon’s ship, and Lance openly winces at the sight of it. He forgot how fucking big it was.

“Look at the size of that,” Coran says, looking at the screen with distaste. 

“I think we should go in right away,” Pidge says. “Every minute we waste gives Zarkon time to prepare for us.”

Lance nods. “I agree.”

Hunk, though, seems skeptical about this. “Guys, remember the Balmera? We could barely take out one fleet. With the size of this ship, it could probably hold a thousand fleets.”

“Or maybe we shouldn’t go on this mission at all,” Keith chimes in, and everyone eyes him warily. “Think about it. We’ll be delivering the universe’s only hope to the universe’s biggest enemy.”

“Keith, that’s cold, even for you,” Hunk comments, and Lance notices that Keith flinches at this. “What if it was one of us? What if it were me? You wouldn’t leave me, would you?” Hunk tilts his head, then, as if he isn’t sure. “Would you?”

Lance decides to butt in before something hurtful is said. “Keith, I get where you’re coming from, I do. But this is Allura. Even if it were anyone else, if it were you,” Lance says. “I wouldn’t leave you behind. So we can’t leave Allura behind. Okay?”

Keith thinks on Lance’s words before eventually nodding, looking a little flustered. “Okay.”

“So,” Lance looks around at the team. “What’s the plan?”

“Okay, guys, this is it. Voltron is going to come in fast and without warning,” Shiro says. “We’ll smash our way into Zarkon’s ship and grab the Princess. Before they know what hit them, we’ll have the Princess and be on our way.”

The plan was solid, but Lance knew it wouldn’t go smoothly. Their plans usually never did. 

They go in as Voltron and tear apart a few fleets, but this doesn’t last long, especially when Zarkon starts to force a connection with Black. 

Voltron freezes in place, and Lance can feel dark, ugly energy emanating from Black.

“Shiro!” Keith shouts over the comms.

“I can’t hold it!” Shiro yells. 

Voltron falls apart in a split second, and everyone races off, trying to take out significant parts of multiple fleets. 

Shiro stays stuck in place for a few moments before promptly getting ejected into space. He announces he’s going to retrieve the Lion by going inside the ship, and Keith decides to help from the outside, going to face Zarkon. 

Coran eventually finds Allura’s exact coordinates, and Hunk charges Yellow’s head through the ship’s hull. “Guess we gotta cover Hunk’s butt. Literally,” Lance quips, blocking the Yellow Lion from getting hit.

Pidge gently sighs. 

Then, he faintly hears Allura’s voice over Hunk’s comms.

“Hunk, did you find the Princess?” He asks.

“Yeah, but there’s been a change of plans,” Hunk answers. 

Lance and Pidge are left to flounder while Allura and Hunk go to rescue Shiro. “Could you try to hurry it up?!” Pidge asks anxiously over the comms, and soon enough, Shiro is back in the Black Lion. Hunk backs his Lion out of the hull with the Princess in tow and drops her off at the Castleship. 

The Lions run around for a few more minutes, trying to take out as many fleets as they can, waiting for Shiro to rescue Keith. Shiro eventually does, carrying the Red Lion away from Zarkon. “Is everyone okay?” Lance asks when everyone is out of harm’s way–ish.

Everyone answers with their own versions of ‘yes’, and they all wait for Allura to make the wormhole jump. 

However, the barrier around the ship prevents them from doing so. Didn’t someone from the Blade disable it last time?

As if the universe had heard him, the barrier immediately goes down, and Lance sighs in relief. Thank you.

“What happened?” Pidge’s voice sounds confused.

“Who cares?” Hunk says, his voice slightly panicked. “Wormhole!”

The wormhole opens, and everyone quickly flies through it. 

But, of course, because the universe can’t be too nice, Haggar sends a strong, dark wave of energy through the wormhole, causing it to be corrupted. “Damn,” Lance says under his breath and feels himself being pulled through the side of the wormhole. Away from the Castleship and the others.

And away from Hunk. 

Fuck. 

This didn’t happen last time.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

Lance suddenly starts to feel a cold, reassuring energy ring through him. It’s Blue. She’s trying to reassure him. 

It is going to be alright, my star.

No, it’s not.

Suddenly, Lance is out of the wormhole. He strains his eyes open long enough to see the surface of a blue planet. That’s not Queen Luxia’s planet, He realizes. Blue sounds out a warning that they’re going to make contact in thirty seconds.

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” Lance asks out loud this time.

I would be lying if I said it would not.

“Great.”

The Blue Lion crashes into the planet, and Lance’s vision goes black.

Chapter Text

The first thing Lance realizes when he wakes up is that he’s definitely not in his Lion.

The air blowing against his face is cool yet almost unbearably humid, and Lance’s face feels sticky with sweat. He blinks a few times so his eyes can adjust to the bright light shining down on his face and puts a hand in front of him to try and shield his eyes.

His bodysuit under his armor is annoyingly clinging to his skin, and he huffs. Lance realizes that he’s lying flat on the ground and stretches out his arms and legs to see if anything is injured or broken. Judging from the immediate pain emanating from his thigh, he can safely assume that something is definitely wrong with it. He just hopes it isn’t broken because that will heavily complicate things if he needs to move.

Lance starts to sit up and grimaces, feeling even more pain aching throughout his left arm. He looks over and examines it, grateful to see that it’s not twisted in any unnatural fashion. However, it still hurts, and he can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. He cradles his hurt arm to his chest, sighing in annoyance.

“I just wanted to see the mermaids, man,” Lance mumbles to himself, frowning. This is not how he pictured his trip through the wormhole going. He thought he was going to see the mermaids, kill the Baku Worm, save the day, and reunite with his friends. That’s all he was really looking forward to, and instead, he got stuck here on this humid-ass planet, separated from his Lion, and is now moderately injured. 

What a fantastic start to his day.

Simply fantastic.

He’s never been happier.

Lance stands up, groaning while doing so, and takes a better look at his surroundings. 

“Whoa.”

The planet he and Blue ended up crashing into is covered in something that resembles snow but isn’t ice-cold to the touch. Lance picks some up in his uninjured hand, feeling the cool, gritty texture through his glove. It feels like dirt but doesn’t stain his glove when he lets it fall through his fingers. 

Lance is almost tempted to eat it but quickly remembers that eating foreign substances is how a lot of people die, so he ignores the thought.

He clears his throat, realizing that his mouth feels dry and scratchy. How long has he been passed out? Lance looks around a bit more, trying to see if there’s a water source nearby. Blue would probably sense some. Wait. Blue.

“Blue!” Lance shouts hoarsely and clears his mind to try and let Blue into his thoughts. There’s no familiar hum, no comforting purr, no calm words being said. It’s eerily silent, and Lance doesn’t like it one bit. “Blue?” He says now, more quiet this time, and he looks around again. Blue’s frame would be hard to miss, considering she stands well over 50 feet tall. If he can’t see her from here, then she’s either farther away than he thought or she’s lying down. Blue lying down is never a good sign, especially after the crash they just had. 

Lance takes a small step forward, just a start, and instantly crumbles back down to the ground. He remembers that his leg is still horribly injured and looks down to examine it, sighing at what he sees. A big, jagged rock the size of his hand is lodged into his thigh. He touches it testily, yanking his hand back at the searing pain that comes. 

“Son of a–” Lance cuts himself off, biting into his fist in frustration. Why him?

Okay. He needs to make a plan for what to do next. First, he needs to try and remove the damn rock, otherwise, he’s not going anywhere.

He breathes in deeply, trying to psych himself up for what he’s about to do. Lance is really going to hate himself later if this doesn’t go as smoothly as he would like it to. He grabs the rock with his good hand, wiggling it back and forth to see how deep the rock is. 

Lance shouts from the pain, his hand jumping back from the rock as if he’s been burned. That confirms it. It’s in his leg pretty deep, and he’s going to be in a world of hurt if he actually manages to pull the damn rock out. It’s times like this that make Lance really want to cry.

But the location he’s at right now isn’t really the best place to be performing discount leg surgery, so he needs to suck it up, grit his teeth as he walks, and make it somewhere a bit safer. 

Laying out here in the middle of nowhere isn’t a good idea.

 He really hopes there’s at least a civilization on this planet, one that hasn’t been invaded by the Galra at least. The chances of that are slim, though, considering Voltron has only liberated a handful of planets at this point in time. Allura did say that they have to assume that the Galra has most likely invaded most of the known universe. 

Lance curses again, genuinely just wanting to lie down on the ground and go back to sleep. He really doesn’t want to deal with any of this right now. He wanted to see mermaids, and this is what he got instead. Wow.

He attempts to get off the ground one more time, leaning on his good leg to keep his balance. Lance doesn’t really think bouncing around on one leg is a good idea, but it’s not like his mind is chock full of any other ideas at the moment. 

Lance manages to keep himself upright and, very slowly, starts hobbling forward. He doesn’t know where he’s going exactly; all he knows is that he can’t stay in plain sight like this. 

He opens his mind to Blue again, calling out for her silently. There’s still no response, and Lance is starting to get worried. Don’t get him wrong, he was worried before. But this is different. Even in the last timeline, when Blue got injured, she always made sure to send out at least an emotion to let Lance know she was alright and that she would be up soon. 

Right now, there’s nothing.

Nevertheless, he makes an effort to reach out to her, to send out his own emotions, to let her know that he’s okay at least. That’s the most he can do at the moment, anyway.

My star, this is not healthy. You should let your friends know you are alright.

Lance sighed, picking himself up off the floor of the cockpit. He stretched his arms out in front of him, staying silent. Blue was right. He never liked admitting it, but she was almost always right on all counts. 

Let them know, or I will do it myself.

He rolled his eyes at this but reluctantly walked up to Blue’s dashboard. Lance raised an eyebrow at the number of missed calls he had gotten since the day before.

The day before had been Allura’s funeral.

He choked back a sob and dug his fingernails into his palms. He was tired of crying, and he wasn’t going to do it anymore. Lance shook his head, clearing his thoughts from his mind, and checked the call log.

Since he had left the funeral, there had been 127 missed calls, most of them from Keith and Hunk. Pidge and Shiro had left longer voicemails in place of calling, which Lance was fine with. He wasn’t sure, though, if he was even going to listen to any of them.

Lance had no doubts that they would be worried for him, but he also knew that they tend to let anger manifest in place of worry. They would most likely berate him for leaving without letting anyone know, and he understood that. If any of their places had been switched with his, he probably would’ve been irritated too. 

Still, he wasn’t emotionally ready to listen to their voicemails or return any of their calls. 

Blue’s constant humming throughout his head, however, was letting him know that he didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

He sighed again before picking one of the numbers out of the call log. Keith was the most recent person who had called and had left a three-minute-long voicemail on his last call. Lance pondered listening to it, but he also had an aching feeling that whatever was in that voice message would probably end up hurting his feelings. 

Lance took one more deep breath before pushing Keith’s contact picture, which was a photo of Keith with a milk mustache. Lance attempted to smile at this, but it felt too forced, and the smile felt more like a grimace than anything.

He sat back in his cockpit seat as it rang and had a glimpse of hope that they might’ve forgotten about him. 

Sure, that thought also hurt his feelings a little, but he preferred being ignored to being bothered. 

His wishes did not come true when Keith actually picked up, yet he still felt his heart begin to beat faster. He did not know what the hell that was all about, but he declined to think any more about it. 

“Lance?” Keith’s voice came over the comms, and his voice sounded worried.

“I’m here,” Lance answered softly, and the cockpit was filled with silence. 

“Are you okay?”

That was a loaded question, yet Lance answered it nonetheless. “Physically, yeah. Emotionally, on the other hand…”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

There’s more silence, and Lance finally gets the nerve to speak up. “No, I’m sorry for making you guys worry. I shouldn’t have just left like that.”

Keith sighed, and Lance could picture the other boy running his fingers through his mullet. He almost smiled again at the image, but again, it didn’t feel genuine. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Lance. I get it. I’ve been there.”

“Are you talking about when Shiro went missing?”

Another sigh, and Lance felt horrible for asking. 

“Yeah. If you didn’t forget, I kinda disappeared both times he went missing. When he went missing on the Kerberos mission, I shut down and did something stupid, which resulted in me dropping out.”

Lance stayed silent, listening to Keith talk. Keith’s voice was soft and quiet, not angry and sad like Lance was expecting. If Lance didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were just having a good ole chat, like they used to back on the Castleship. Those days seemed so far away then. 

“Then, when Shiro…died…I couldn’t accept it. To be fair, we didn’t know any better at the time, but still. I ran away every day, chasing after distant hopes and lost leads that led to nothing. That gave Haggar the perfect opportunity to take advantage.”

“Keith, if you’re blaming yourself for that, you need to cut it out,” Lance finally cut in. “Everyone grieves in their own ways, and it wasn’t your fault that Haggar took advantage, okay?”

“I know. Thanks.”

The line went quiet again, and Lance wasn’t sure what else to really say to keep the conversation going.

“Anyway,” Lance finally decided. “I just wanted to let you guys know I’m okay.”

“Lance, don’t hang up.”

“I’ll come back eventually, I just don’t know when. I need some time.”

“Lance, can you please just stay on the phone–”

“I’ll see you later, Keith.”

“Lan–”

The line finally went dead, and Lance felt so much guilt course through him that he wanted to immediately call Keith back and apologize. But anxiety won out over guilt, and Lance didn’t end up calling back. 

He ended up back on the cockpit floor, listening to his comms line ring through multiple times, and ignored every single call that followed after.

After hobbling around for about an hour, Lance finally sees what looks to be a village.

Or what used to be one, anyway.

There looks to be a cluster of buildings, which all resemble houses, pushed up together, like a small neighborhood. Lance would think there would be people living there if the buildings weren’t almost burnt to a crisp. 

He cautiously walks up to the cluster, not wanting to take any chances. Maybe whoever lived here left the space version of a first-aid kit or something. It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s all he really has to work with right now.

Lance looks through a shattered window, not seeing any living being besides a small lizard crawling along the windowsill. The lizard spots him and vanishes out of thin air, causing him to frown.

He walks around the building, inspecting it for any signs of the entrance. Lance finds one rather easily, considering the other half of the building has been torn apart.

Torn apart by what, Lance has no idea. And he’s really not looking forward to finding out at the moment.

Lance steps into what remains of the building, briefly looking around to see if there’s anything he can use. He rummages through some cabinets and looks under a few pieces of furniture but, unfortunately, comes up empty.

He sighs, frustrated, and kicks up some dirt.

Lance falls to the ground, bringing his good leg up to his chest, while his injured one sits straight. It still aches horribly, and Lance comes to the annoying realization that he has to remove it if he wants to get anywhere.

He studies the injury a bit more closely, his eyes squinting as he does so. The rock is jammed into his leg pretty deep, and the rock itself is about three inches wide, so he’d definitely need some kind of stitches to keep the wound closed after he gets the rock out. If he gets the rock out.

Lance casts a brief look at his gloves. That’s right.

The entire bodysuit he’s wearing under his armor is a fabric he could use to bandage himself up. He rips at one of his gloves with his good hand, eventually tearing off a good-sized piece. Granted, the part of his bodysuit that covered his elbow all the way down to his fingertips is now gone.

Lance tests the fabric, relieved that while it’s not super strong, if it’s able to be ripped so easily, it will easily do as a bandage. 

He takes one last look at the rock, taking the liberty to curse under his breath a couple of times. Lance knows it’s going to hurt, and he knows that he might pass out from the pain. What he doesn’t know, however, is what will happen if he passes out. 

He’s not with Hunk this time, which means Hunk is probably getting hypnotized right now by the Baku worm, which really isn’t good. What if by the time Lance makes it off this planet (if he ever does), Hunk’s already been eaten?

How long has it been since he crashed, since he got separated from the others? Hours? Days? Weeks? Lance knows what the Baku worm is capable of, and now he’s worried for his friend. The merpeople, too, since there are only three of them that have a good idea of what’s going on, and without Blue there, they won’t be able to stop the damn Baku worm. Is this all his fault? Should he have–

My star, you need to stop panicking. Everything is alright now.

Lance feels a cool rush of relief flood his mind, and he smiles, closing his eyes as he feels tears well up.

“Blue, you’re okay.”

As okay as I can be, really. I still can’t move, and my systems are still offline, but at least I can talk to you.

Lance lets out a weak laugh, feeling a tear fall down his cheek.

“That’s good enough for me right now. Blue, I–I don’t know what to do,” Lance says honestly, and his voice cracks near the end of his sentence. Blue begins purring. 

It seemed like you had a good idea of what to do before you started panicking. You should deal with your injury before coming to find me. Otherwise, you won’t get very far.

Lance figures that Blue's logic makes sense and eyes the torn fabric that’s clenched in his hand. He smooths it out and glares at his injured leg with intensity.

I will try to take some of the pain away, alright? 

He pauses at that, looking around as if he can see his Lion. “What do you mean?” 

There’s silence, and Lance presses on. “Blue, what do you mean by take the pain away? That’s never been a thing before.”

Blue sighs, and Lance wants to scoff. He doesn’t know where his immediate irritation is coming from, but he feels really angry all of a sudden. “Why can’t anybody give me a clear explanation of what’s going on around here? First, it’s Shiro from the past timeline, and now it’s you not explaining the extent of your powers! What the hell am I supposed to think if no one tells me anything?”

I will explain it to you in great detail at a later–

“No!” Lance interrupts, growing even more irritated. He knows he sounds like a child right now, throwing a fit, but he can’t stop himself.

“We have all the time in the world right now. So please, ” Lance drags out the last word. “Please explain to me in great detail what the hell you meant by that?”

Quit acting like a child.

“Quit acting like a child, ” Lance mocks hurtfully. He needs to stop. “I am a child!”

No, you are not. You were twenty-five in your previous timeline, were you not?

“Who gives a shit about how old I was in the previous timeline?” Lance asks angrily. “As I recall, you were the one who dragged us into this damn war while we were still kids! Pidge wasn’t even sixteen yet, and you think a bunch of children were supposed to be the ones saving the universe!?”

Blue is silent.

“I should’ve been going to classes and learning how to fly the simulator, and instead, I almost died! Multiple times! Hell, I did die!”

Excuse me?

Lance cuts himself off and catches his breath. He hadn’t meant to go that far. Really, he hadn’t. He didn’t mean to say those things. Blue didn’t deserve that. He didn’t want her to hear any of that.

Now, I am going to ask you to elaborate. What did you mean when you said you died?

“It was–,” Lance begins after a moment of silence. “It was at the Omega Shield, remember? During the last timeline?”

He feels discomfort float through his brain, slimy and crawly like it’s not supposed to be there. “When Red and I pushed Allura and you out of the way? Do you really not remember that?”

Silence.

“Allura left you to come and save me. Do you really not remember?”

You died?

“Yes," Lance emphasizes. He thought Blue remembered everything. “She brought me back using her magic, but we both knew. I was dead for a few minutes, Blue.”

I thought…

Blue trails off for a few moments, and Lance feels what he understands to be grief flowing through his mind, cold and melty at the same time. His brain begins to feel like mush from the intensity of it.

I had thought you had passed out. I… I had no idea that you…

I figured she was only going to check on you. How could I be so naive?

“Blue,” Lance says weakly, and feels awful that he even brought the whole ordeal up. This wasn’t Blue’s problem to bear. It was his own. 

“You weren’t my Lion anymore. I wasn’t your responsibility.”

That does not matter. Voltron is a family, and whether you are my partner or not, I should have known. I should have sensed it.

Lance sighs. “I hate to say it, Blue. But Voltron wasn’t as close-knit as it could’ve been in the last timeline. We all felt like co-workers most of the time more than friends. At least, I think that’s how they saw it,” He says, shrugging.

“Lance, I’m busy. Can you please go bother someone else?” Pidge said dismissively, giving him an agitated look. Lance collapsed onto the floor dramatically but took care not to destroy anything on his way down. He was bored, but he didn’t have a death wish.

“But Piiiiiiiidge,” Lance whined. “There’s no one else to bother. Hunk’s asleep, Shiro’s asleep, and Allura won’t even acknowledge me,” Lance complained. “And you’re the only one awake.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow, unimpressed at his excuses. “What about Keith? He’s probably down in the training deck. You can go bother him. Now, for real, Lance, I’m busy. I can’t have anything breaking my concentration. We can hang out later, okay?”

Lance knew that was a bold-faced lie, but nodded his head anyway. “Fine,” He relented and picked himself up off the floor. Lance left the room and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He considered Pidge’s suggestion before shaking his head. 

Hypothetically, he could go bother Keith, but he also wasn’t in the mood to argue or duke it out in a fistfight. All he really wanted to do was be able to just sit and enjoy someone’s company. Granted, he didn’t really know if he would ever enjoy Keith’s company, but Keith was someone he knew and someone he appreciated from time to time (although he would never say it to the guy’s face).

Lance shook his head again, opting to go in the opposite direction of the training room, and instead found himself in the kitchen.

It was pitch-black when he entered, and when he flicked the lights on, he simply blinked at what he saw.

“What the hell, man?” Lance said simply, blinking again. 

“Listen,” Keith said, holding his hands up defensively. “This isn’t what you think.”

Lance crossed his arms, disbelieving. “Really? Because I think you’re rooting through the fridge, trying to steal Hunk’s cookies he made this morning,” Lance took a small step forward. Keith slammed the fridge door shut and promptly squared up. Lance stopped at this, giving Keith an unimpressed look. “You really think I’m gonna throw hands over some cookies, dude?”

Keith simply shrugged. “I don’t know. You might.”

Lance shook his head, scoffing. “I don’t know why I asked.”

The air was tense, and Lance humorously wondered why, considering he was coming to do the exact same thing Keith was doing. 

Lance took another cautious step forward, but Keith didn’t tackle him, much to his surprise. Keith’s shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the counter, sighing. 

“I thought nobody else was awake and decided to try my luck and see what kinda cookies Hunk was baking earlier,” Keith confessed sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

Lance leaned on the counter from the opposite side, giving Keith a polite smile in return. “Would you believe me if I said I was coming to do the exact same thing?”

Keith tilted his head as if he didn’t understand. “Wait. Really?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. But, if Hunk notices all of his cookies are gone tomorrow, he’s going to kill us since we’ll be the obvious choices.” Then Lance got a bright idea. “So, why don’t we make some of our own?”

Keith looked puzzled at the suggestion. “You want us to bake cookies together?” 

Lance tried not to feel hurt at the obvious disbelief in Keith’s voice. “Well, if you don’t want to, you’re free to get murdered in the morning,” He said, gesturing to the fridge that held Hunk’s precious cookies. 

Keith side-eyed the fridge before looking back at Lance, squinting his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”

Now, Lance didn’t really know the answer to that question either, other than the fact that he just wanted to. Of course, he knew Keith wouldn’t like that reply, so he simply shrugged his shoulders. Keith didn’t like that either. 

Keith raised his eyebrows. “Is this some kinda long, drawn-out joke to start a fight or something, because I don’t understand?”

Lance simply shook his head again. “Dude, I just really want cookies, and I don’t want to be alone. So…” He silently prepared himself for the rejection.“Would you like to bake cookies with me? Yes or no?”

Keith looked a bit troubled at this, and Lance wasn’t sure if it was because of his small confession of not wanting to be alone or if Keith was just horrible at decision-making. Either way, Keith eventually made up his mind. 

“Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lance thinks back on the memory with guilt and leans against a wall. He cradles his injured arm to his chest, wishing something (or someone) would just come and chase the pain away. He is so tired.

Your memories seem to drift to the past timeline a lot. Do you miss it?

Lance sighs and ponders the question. “Yes and no. There are things from the past that I want to change, that I need to change. But there are other times that I wish nothing would change at all, just for those small moments. The moments that I’ll probably never get in this timeline.”

What makes you say that you will never get them? Do not forget, you remember everything, but your friends do not. You can choose what you can and cannot do. Those choices are in your hands.

“Well, sure, but those memories were genuine. If I try to replicate them, it won’t be the same,” Lance counters, and Blue’s sigh reverberates through his head. 

You are overthinking it.

“Am I?”

Lance truly doesn’t think he is. He really feels that way. Trying to replicate memories just to be similar to the past timeline doesn’t feel right. It seems manipulative for some reason, and Lance doesn’t want to be like that. Lance wants his relationship with all the Paladins to be natural, not forced. Doesn’t that make sense?

Do you really think that your friends from the previous timeline would feel as though you are manipulating them?

Sometimes, Lance hates that Blue can read his mind because she always makes sense. Always. She always knows the right thing to say, the right emotion to feel whenever Lance is in crisis. She can always put his scrambled thoughts into words and ideas that he can understand 

He loves that she can do that, but he also hates it.

I personally think that your friends would appreciate that you are taking the time to get to know them better, to understand them. I think they would feel more betrayed if you tried to distance yourself and pretend nothing is wrong. 

She’s right, yet again.

Lance knows they would feel that way because he would feel that way if any of their roles were reversed. “You’re right,” He finally acknowledges.

I know. Now, you need to do something about your leg. 

Lance snaps out of his thoughts, concentrating on the matter at hand. He grabs the rock jammed in his leg without really thinking about it and starts to pull.

It stings a lot at first, causing him to wince. Then, a cool feeling rushes through his body and almost numbs the pain. It’s still there, definitely, but more muted, and Lance knows that this is Blue’s doing.

He sends her a silent thanks and also a silent apology for his tantrum earlier. Her quiet purring lets him know that she appreciates both, but that neither is needed. She always understands.

The rock finally comes out, and Lance is startled to see how much blood starts to trickle out of his leg. Trickle probably isn’t the right word. Dripping also wouldn’t be the correct word.

Gushes would be more accurate.

“Not helpful, Blue,” Lance says, trying not to become squeamish as he wraps the ripped fabric from earlier around his thigh. It manages to staunch the bleeding quite a bit, although the application is a bit half-assed. 

In Lance’s opinion, however, half-assing it is better than no-assing it.

His leg feels like it’s been dipped in ice-cold water at this point, and it almost starts to burn. Lance hisses slightly and makes a move to stand up, leaning against the wall as he does.

You should not push yourself.

“I know,” Lance says, pressing his face to the wall. “But Hunk is in trouble; he has to be. We need to figure out how to get out of here and save him.”

Despite the distance, I feel no distress coming from Yellow or his Paladin.

Lance almost makes an unnecessarily snappy comment at that, but refrains and instead chooses to believe Blue’s words. Then he stops.

“The Yellow Lion is a guy?” Lance says out loud and quickly realizes how insane he must sound, all by himself like this.

Indeed, as are Red and Black. Green and I are the only female Lions.

Lance is dumbfounded. “Hold on! You’re saying Red’s a guy, too?!”

Blue is silent for a moment, and Lance feels a lot of confusion swarm his mind. She seems just as confused as he is.

You and Red were partners for quite a long time, and now you are telling me you did not know his true gender?

“Uh–” Lance cuts himself off nervously. He exits the deserted building and looks around, sighing at the sight of the sky starting to get dark. The smart thing to do would be to stay put, but then again, Lance never really thought of himself as the smart one.

“I’m going with…the dumb one!”

Lance pushes that memory away harshly, not even wanting to acknowledge that one existed. The shit that was said and done on that day only hurt his feelings the more he thought about it, so he just wanted to forget it had even happened. Lance can only hope that Bob doesn’t make an appearance in this timeline as well, but when have any of his hopes and dreams come true?

You did not answer my question.

Blue’s voice is impatient, and Lance tries to follow the connection he feels coming from Blue. It’s super faint, barely even there, and yet, it’s all he has to go on. He thinks about his answer as he goes, hopefully, in the right direction.

“Uh, I don’t know,” He finally says, and it’s the truth. “I guess I didn’t really bond with Red as well as I thought I did. I find that that’s the case with almost everybody, really,” Lance says honestly and feels a bit ashamed as the words leave his mouth. 

Well, that is one of the many things you can change this time around, hmm?

Lance nods, despite knowing that Blue can’t see him, and continues his walk. Blue’s connection is weak, but it gets just a tiny bit stronger with every step Lance takes in the right direction. His eyes trail up to the sky every few minutes, hoping distantly that the Green Lion would just spontaneously pop up out of nowhere and take him and Blue home. 

Sadly, no such thing happens, and Lance is left glaring at the sky, cursing under his breath. 

You are heading in the right direction. Keep going.

Lance keeps going, taking heed of Blue’s reassurance. He hopes he’s getting closer because he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep walking. His leg is really starting to ache now, and there’s blood starting to leak through the makeshift bandage. 

“Ugh, Hunk is really going to give me shit if he sees me like this,” Lance comments, his voice quiet. The temperature is getting chillier as the sky gets dark, and he hopes that no nocturnal creatures decide to show up and make his life hell.

For good reason.

“It’s not my fault we’re like this!” Lance says indignantly and starts to lean more on his good leg as he walks. His pace slows, but he still makes some decent progress. 

I did not mean it in that way. I meant that he has a good reason to be worried about you.

Lance thinks about his answer before he replies.

“He’s had too many reasons to worry about me lately,” Lance says finally, and Blue doesn’t dignify that with a response.

After about another hour of walking, Lance finally feels Blue’s energy surge. “You okay, Blue?”

My systems are coming back online, although I am still immobile. Star, there is something you should know before you find me.

Lance doesn’t like the sound of Blue’s tone at all and begins to grow worried, making himself walk faster. Blue’s energy is easier to follow now, and she isn’t too far. He feels it.

“Uh, okay?”

You might need to… do a few minor repairs on me before I am able to fly again. I am not in the best state.

Just as Blue says that, Lance catches sight of what looks to be a part of Blue’s paw on the ground a few yards ahead of him. “Are you serious?”

Very. 

“Blue,” Lance starts as he rushes up to the paw, ignoring the stinging pain in his leg. “You should know by now that I am not Pidge, nor am I Hunk, and you expect me, of all people, to repair you?”

I have great faith in you.

“I don’t know why,” Lance mutters as he eyes the paw, then raises his eyebrows. “A missing paw is going to keep you from flying? Really?”

Perhaps you should keep your judgmental comments to yourself until you have found me. 

Lance lets out another apology before kneeling to the ground. He stretches out his left arm, testing the pain radiating from it. It’s a solid four, and his arm is stiff from being held to his chest for the past few hours, but he should be able to manage it.

He gets a good grip on the paw and attempts to drag it in Blue’s direction, but finds that not only was that a dumb idea in the first place, but it also makes the pain in his arm earlier go from a four to a nine very quickly. 

He jumps back, holding his arm defensively.

“Blue, you literally picked the worst time to fall apart like this. I am not the guy for the job.”

Please just come and find me already. You are very close.

Lance makes a mental note that Blue’s paw is next to a giant black rock and starts running in her direction. 

Then he sees her.

“Oh, Blue.”

Blue was not lying when she said she was in need of repairs. She looks worse for wear, with so many scratches across her frame that it had to be painful, ignoring the fact that she’s a robot. One of the bolts on the side of her face has a deep crack in it, causing her jaw to remain permanently open until it’s fixed. 

While her eyes are glowing at the sight of him, they’re also sparking in and out, which Lance deciphers must be because of some wiring that probably got knocked loose. He doesn’t know; he’s not Pidge, and he’s not Hunk.

He’s Lance, and he has absolutely no fucking idea what he’s doing.

He exhales softly, examining Blue again from her head to her tail. While some of her joints are dented and scratched, nothing is truly bent out of shape. The only thing she’s missing is her left paw, which is currently lying over a hundred yards away.

Thankfully, her paw seems to be the only thing detached from her body, and Lance is grateful for that because he already has no idea how he’s supposed to transport one body part of hers. How would he have done multiple parts? He’s glad he doesn’t have to find out.

“Blue, you need to understand, I have no clue what the fuck to do here,” Lance says honestly, patting the front of Blue’s face delicately. 

I can see that.

Lance was expecting the sassy tone, but it still catches him off guard. “Gotta try and work with me here,” Lance says, massaging the bridge of his nose. He’s going to have a massive headache after this; he already knows. 

“Is it safe to enter the cockpit, at least? It’s a shot in the dark, but I need to see if there is anything I can do here.”

Safe as it can be, I suppose.

Blue’s jaw remains open, and Lance is starkly reminded that she really doesn’t have a choice in the matter. He blushes, embarrassed, before stepping into the cockpit. 

Nothing looks out of place in the cockpit besides one loose wire, and he sits down in the seat experimentally. He taps at the screen a few times, relieved when a screen finally pops up.

It seems my blaxums need to be tightened on the somoflange.

Lance immediately throws his head back against the seat. “Blue, I still don’t know Altean. I’m dumb, so you’ll need to tell me in fewer words.”

You are not dumb.

“Thank you,” Lance says lightly and expectantly waits for Blue’s next response.

Alright. 

Suddenly, an image pops into Lance’s head. It’s a familiar picture of a control panel with screws and bolts and a knob that pulls out. “Pictures do help a lot better than words do,” Lance says thankfully, and gets up from his chair. He remembers seeing that image behind a specific panel about six feet away from the entrance. 

He walks up to the panel and takes the screws off with minimal resistance. “Okay, Blue. What do I do now?”

Follow your instincts. 

“Thanks a lot,” Lance says sarcastically, but does what he’s told. His instincts are telling him that he has no idea what he’s doing and to quit while he’s ahead, but he can’t just leave Blue here like this.

He focuses a bit more on what he’s feeling. Lance doesn’t have anyone to show off for, and his Lion’s life might be in his hands, and he’s not really sure what to think anymore. He puts a hand on a bolt and twists it to the left. Nothing horrible happens, so he does the same to the bolt on the other side.

Lance hears a reassuring beep come from the dashboard, and he gets up, rushing over to it quickly. 

My sensors are back up. We appear to be on Planet Zestrora.

“Never heard that name before,” Lance mutters and sits back down in his seat, already exhausted. “Can you sense any living beings around? Any sign of civilization?”

Blue is silent for a moment, checking.

From the records of 10,000 years ago, there should be a village less than a mile away. I think. Is a mile what you call it?

Lance lightens up at that, ignoring Blue’s inquiry. Then he frowns. “You mean you’ve been sitting here less than a mile away from a village, and they haven’t even come to see what crashed into their planet?”

It has only been a day. They are most likely conversing among themselves on what to do.

Well, that gives Lance a rough timeframe on how long he’s been passed out. He feels relieved that he hasn’t been unconscious for too long. However, Blue’s observation still makes him feel a bit uneasy. 

“Let’s rest, and I’ll go check it out tomorrow.”

What about my paw? I am not leaving here without it.

“I would never suggest that, Blue,” Lance says defensively. “I’m just tired, and I just want a few hours of sleep before I set off for this village. Maybe they can help us.”

Maybe.

Blue lingers on that word coldly, like she isn’t completely sure, and Lance understands her feelings. He isn’t sure what to make of all this either, but he can’t put Blue back together on his own. He’ll need some help.

Whether that help is from these villagers or from his friends coming to save him, he doesn’t care. All he knows is that he can’t do this by himself.

Lance feels like he’s had a bucket of freezing cold water splashed on his face when he wakes, and he’s not amused. 

“Blue, what the hell?” He complains, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

I do not want to stay on this planet any longer than we need to. You should get a move on.

Lance groans under his breath before getting up from his chair and stretching his arms in front of him. He taps at the dashboard screen experimentally, hoping that his friends might have found each other already and are currently looking for him and Blue.

Blue is able to send out a very weak signal to any ships that will listen, but nobody comes, as they both expected.

“Okay, Blue. I’m leaving. Please behave while I’m gone,” Lance can’t resist joking, and Blue growls a tiny bit, bemused at the whole situation.

There is not much else for me to do, is there?

“Nope,” Lance answers simply and exits his Lion, casting a worried look over his shoulder to look at her. Her disheveled frame is still in the same position as he last saw it. Hopefully, Blue will be up and at ‘em in no time.

Blue still remains a steady presence in his mind, letting him know that they can talk if needed, but Lance still feels nervous. 

He starts his walk in the direction Blue says to go in, sighing at the pressure in his leg. It feels a lot better after not walking on it for a few hours, but it’ll still take a while to heal. His hurt arm hangs at his side, and Lance hopes he won’t have to use it for any lifting anytime soon. Or violence. 

He shudders at the thought and keeps walking, hoping that these villagers are friendly. Lance doesn’t know what he’ll do if they’re not. That’s what he’s most afraid of. 

Eventually, Lance sees a few buildings in the distance and feels relief at the fact that they’re not destroyed like the other buildings he saw yesterday. That means whatever tore down the other buildings didn’t make its way over here.

 As he gets closer, he notices that there looks to be a crowd of different villagers of varying shapes and sizes. They're all different races, Lance realizes. 

 They don’t appear to have noticed him yet. 

He walks closer, trying to see if they’re holding any weapons, and is surprised to see they aren’t. He studies the group from afar, trying to determine if he should just head over there and introduce himself or keep his distance. Either way, Blue needs help, and they’re getting off this planet without it.

The group consists of many different races, most of which Lance doesn't recognize, and he begins to feel a bit wary. There are even a few Galrans standing around, although they don’t look like they're part of the Empire. They aren’t dressed like the Blade either, so that just confuses Lance even more. If they’re not with Zarkon, and they’re not with the Blade, then what are they doing here?

Lance spots a few Olkari, a couple of Unilu, and a large group of Taujeerians, along with Puigians of varying ages.

What are all these races doing here together? Lance thinks he would remember if Voltron had to liberate this planet before. This one, in particular, would have stood out in his mind quite a bit. It would've reminded him a lot of Earth. 

My systems are showing that the Paladins of Old liberated Zestrora back right after Voltron was formed. No new information has been updated since then.

“Was this place always so…” Lance pauses, trying to think of a way to phrase this. “Did varying races always occupy this planet, or is this a new thing?” He tries to keep his voice quiet as he asks this, but the villagers ahead of him are getting antsy, and Lance probably doesn’t have too much longer until he’s found out.

Mostly Alteans occupied Zestrora, along with a few Galran figures. If my information is correct, they used to perform experiments of a lesser caliber on this planet so as not to disturb the general peace within their races.

Lance hums in thought. During the 10,000 years of Zarkon's invasion of the universe, Zestrora managed to fly under the radar. 10,000 years is a long time to evade the Empire, and Lance is desperate to know how they did it.

Please go make some new friends.

“What are you, my mom? Give me a minute,” Lance gripes, although there’s no bite behind his words. Blue’s laugh is quiet but still clearly amused at Lance’s dilemma. 

He takes a deep breath in, trying to gain his nerve. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…”

Lance walks up to the crowd slowly, raising his hands in surrender as he approaches. He doesn’t bother to keep his footsteps quiet, and one by one, members of the crowd begin to notice him.

A Unilu gives him a puzzled look as he gets closer, but doesn’t make any move to pull a weapon out of a hidden holster. 

Lance studies all of their expressions and notices that everyone in the crowd looks more confused than terrified of him.

Now introduce yourself.

Lance struggles to bite back a response and instead smiles politely at the crowd. “Hi. I’m–”

“We know who you are.”

Lance blinks.

Then he blinks again.

He blinks again, one last time, just for good measure.

“Huh?”

“You’re Lance, the Red Paladin of Voltron, right?”

Lance slowly looks down at his uniform, then looks back up at the Unilu, who’s currently talking to him.

“No, I’m the Blue Paladin.”

The Unilu’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “That’s not right.”

Lance raises his own eyebrows. “I can assure you it is right.”

The Unilu gives Lance a questioning look before finally realizing something. “Do you remember the past?”

Lance scratches his head in thought and looks around at the crowd, who are all giving him varying looks of concern. Wait. Do they…

“Are you talking about the past timeline?” Lance asks suddenly, and all the villagers start to nod their heads.

“Yes, the one where the Blue Paladin died.”

Lance flinches, taking a small step back. “The Blue Paladin’s name was Allura, please remember that,” He says firmly, then lowers his head. He can’t be mad at them for not knowing. He is, however, just a tiny bit frustrated with his predicament. How many people know about the past timeline, exactly?

“How many people know about this?” Lance asks stiffly.

The Unilu seems to realize the weight of the situation and gestures to Lance to follow him. “We will talk on the way. Come.”

The crowd disperses behind them once they realize what’s happening, and Lance is just feeling all kinds of confusion. What the absolute fuck is going on?

Language.

Lance huffs out a laugh despite himself, causing the Unilu to give him a weird look. Lance gives a quiet apology, and the Unilu sighs. “I go by Osculs these days. To answer your question from earlier,” Osculs gestures out to the village with all four of his arms. “Everyone who lives here remembers what happened back then.”

“How many people live here, though?” Lance needs specifics. Osculs is silent for a moment as if lost in thought before eventually shrugging. “Our monarch said that they believe the last time they took roll, around 2,000 live here.”

Lance’s eyes widen. 2,000 people know? Osculs regards Lance thoughtfully, studying his reaction. “Although they did also say there are likely a few more spread far and wide.”

Lance is at a loss for words. If this many people remember…

“I know what you may be thinking, but please let our monarch explain it to you,” Osculs says as they walk towards a far larger building than Lance was expecting.

“It looks like a castle,” Lance says, dumbfounded, and Osculs grins.

“Our monarch tends to have a flair for the dramatic.”

Osculs pushes open the large doors, and Lance is surprised that the Unilu can even do that, considering the doors seem to weigh a ton. Osculs holds the door open for him, nodding his head. “Our monarch is just in the next room. They will explain everything.”

Lance gives Osculs another look before entering, thanking the Unilu for his help. Osculs seems a bit surprised but accepts Lance’s gratitude nonetheless and closes the door behind him. 

Now inside the castle, Lance looks in front of him and realizes he’s standing on a red carpet. “They really have a flair for the dramatic, huh?” He mutters and slowly makes his way toward the other end of the room. Instead of a throne like he’s expecting, there is only a fountain, and a lone figure is sitting on the fountain’s edge. 

They are gazing into the water thoughtfully before they finally seem to sense his presence. Lance is met with golden eyes peering at him kindly. They say their first words to him, and Lance is reminded of something, yet he can’t discern what it is this person reminds him of.

“You took your time getting here. I’ve been waiting quite a while for you to show up.”

Chapter Text

Lance stares at the person with golden eyes silently before taking a hesitant step forward. Golden Eyes smiles and gestures for him to sit down next to them on the fountain’s edge. He stiffly makes his way over, cradling his arm to his chest with a sense of apprehension. Lance doesn’t really know why he feels this way, but all he knows is that he can’t discern what this person’s intentions are, and that makes him anxious. 

He sits down about six feet away from Golden Eyes, squinting his eyes at them with suspicion. Blue seems to feel his distress, and while she doesn’t say anything, she does send calming vibes his way, which seems to help. Lance loosens his shoulders, not realizing they were taut in the first place. 

The silence between them is a bit worrying, but Lance isn’t quite sure what to say or ask. He had a lot of questions running through his mind before he opened the castle doors, but now that he’s here, his mind is blank. He can’t think of a single question to ask or an annoying joke to make. All he can do is stare at this person with Golden Eyes.

He takes note of their appearance, noting that they’re wearing something that looks kind of like a toga from ancient Greece, at least, that’s something that Lance has only seen in books and movies. It oddly suits them, though, along with the crown of golden leaves encircling their head like a halo. The golden eyes, however, are the most distinguishing part of their appearance, although that’s the only feature Lance can identify on their face. 

Their face is almost a blur. It doesn’t look human, but it doesn’t look alien, either. It’s a shadow of what it could be if Lance could actually put it into words, but that doesn’t quite fit the description either. It’s like a picture that was taken too fast, out of focus, like the camera wasn’t aimed at the actual subject of the photograph. There’s no better way to think about it, really.

There’s no real logical way to explain it, and Lance is fine with just that for right now. 

Lance tries to catch Golden Eye’s gaze, but their eyes are currently focused on the water that’s swirling around in the fountain. He looks down at the water too, noticing that it reflects nothing. It’s like a sea of stars, sparkling so brilliantly, he would almost think this fountain is full of just glitter. 

“All these stars each represent a life somewhere in the universe,” Golden Eyes finally says, their eyes not straying from the fountain, and Lance feels a sense of amazement that such an important fountain like this would be settled on this small planet.

“I guess that’s why there are so many,” Lance says dumbly, internally cursing himself for that reply. Golden Eyes finally looks up at him, but doesn’t say anything. 

There’s not really an expression to read, but Lance can totally tell that they’re judging him. 

“I assume you have some questions to ask of me?” They inquire, and Lance chooses to look back down at the glittering water. He has millions of questions running through his head, of course, he does, but he can’t put them into words. He doesn’t really know what to ask first. 

“Uh, yeah, but I’m not sure where to start,” He says honestly, and Golden Eyes’s gaze crinkles at the corners like they’re smiling at him.

“Just say whatever is on your mind. I will answer every question you have to the best of my ability.”

The reassurance in their tone seems to make Lance feel better, and he smiles back at them, but still can’t think of a good first question to ask. He feels horrible for wasting their time like this, but he truly can’t put his thoughts into words. 

Ask them what their name is.

Blue’s voice commands gently, and Lance decides that’s a better place to start than any. “What’s your name?” He finally asks, and Golden Eyes looks relieved at the question.

“I have many names, not just one. Although you must have heard Coran call me Clotho.”

Lance’s eyes widen comically. “That’s you!?” 

Clotho seems amused at Lance’s reaction, nodding slightly. They hum in affirming, tone of voice soft and low, and Lance swears he’s met this person before. He just can’t remember where exactly. This whole interaction feels so familiar that it gives him a sense of deja vu, but he doesn’t know why. 

“Have we met before?” Lance questions, and Clotho nods again.

“We have, briefly, yes. It was in the past timeline,” They clarify, and Lance tilts his head, trying his best to recall this person. He doesn’t think he would forget this person, not someone so extravagant. Not someone with golden eyes, especially, that’s for sure. 

“Where did we meet?” He asks again, and Clotho looks back down toward the sparkling water.

“It was at The Nepenthe Festival. If I remember correctly, and I usually do, your older sister Veronica begged you to go, and you could not refuse.”

As Clotho answers, Lance feels as if a dam has broken free in his mind, a dam broken by memories suddenly flooding back. That festival. It seems so long ago, and nothing really important happened there, but he had forgotten. He feels a pang of strange guilt for forgetting something like that so easily, considering it was an important festival to his sister. Lance thinks back on that day and manages to smile a bit as he does so.

“Lance, can you at least pretend to look like you’re happy to be here?” Veronica asked, frowning as she adjusted her backpack.

Lance raised his eyebrows, confused. “I am happy to be here,” He argued, and Veronica simply shook her head, denying that statement.

“You’ve been moping around the whole time,” She recalled, gesturing to his horrible posture, and he straightened up, crossing his arms.

“I have not,” Lance rebutted, but his tone was weak because, truth be told, his sister was right.

Veronica simply raised her eyebrows back at him, unimpressed. Then her shoulders slumped, and her face took on a sadder expression, one that Lance didn’t like seeing on his sister’s face.

He uncrossed his arms, sighing at himself. “I’m sorry, V. I’m trying to enjoy myself, but it’s still hard.”

His sister nodded her head in understanding, but there was a look in her eyes that Lance read as, Get over it already, and he looked away from her. “I’m trying not to be miserable, okay? But I don’t do well with this kind of thing. Nobody in our family really does,” Lance pointed out, and Veronica sighed this time. 

“That’s not true,” Veronica said softly, and Lance gave her a disbelieving look.

“Look at Mom. You can’t even mention Dad without her getting defensive and angry. Sure, she never takes it out on us, but she does take it out on herself like she thinks she’s the one to blame,” Lance mentioned, and Veronica seemed to silently agree with that assessment.

“Yeah, Uncle Ricardo’s the same way,” Veronica added and kicked at the dirt they were walking on. 

They were heading to some festival Veronica begged Lance to go to, and Lance was already not a fan. The planet they were on was hot, and the dirt was thick and sticky, and it kept almost dragging Lance’s shoes off his feet. 

“Is that how you are with Allura?” Veronica asked suddenly, and Lance paused for a second, but then continued.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Lance shrugged. He was good at deflecting, so he decided to stick with that when he didn’t want to answer a question honestly. Veronica seemed to get the hint, but Lance knew she would probably bring it up later. She was persistent like that, just like the rest of their family, and while Lance loved that about all of his family members, he also resented it. 

“And what about–”

“That’s enough, V,” Lance said gruffly, already done with this conversation. There was silence between the two for a while, the only sound being the noises of their shoes getting continuously stuck in the dirt. Lance decided to break the quiet, already feeling guilty for being so curt. 

“What’s the name of this festival anyway? What’s it about?” He inquired as he contemplated whether or not it’d be a good idea to just take off his shoes altogether.

“The Nepenthe Festival. I was talking to Keith the other day, and he mentioned that this festival was occurring soon and suggested I check it out. Didja know that this festival only occurs once every century?” Veronica’s voice had taken a lighter tone, clearly excited about this event, but Lance couldn’t shake something.

Something was weird about her statement.

“You talked to Keith? When?” He tried to keep the rampant curiosity out of his voice, but it was no use. Veronica seemed weirdly amused, and Lance knew that she was probably just messing with him. 

She laughed, all bubbly and fake-sounding, clearly taking pleasure in Lance’s confusion. “He came to the house looking for you the other day, but you weren’t there. He was going to tell you about the festival originally, but…”

That only ramped up Lance’s confusion further.

“Again, you weren’t there. I think that was the week you went on that road trip with Marco, remember?” Veronica recalled, and Lance began to sweat. Did Keith really take the opportunity to hit on his sister when he found out Lance wasn’t there? 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Veronica said, waving a hand in front of Lance’s face. “I know what you’re thinking, but Keith isn’t like that. And neither am I,” Veronica said matter-of-factly, and Lance paused.

“You’re not?” 

Veronica scoffed. “No! I’m not into guys, and even if I were, he’s not exactly my type.”

Lance felt like pure steam was coming out of his ears at that point. “Huh?” He said dumbly. 

“I’m into Axca! Okay? There, I said it!” Veronica’s voice sounded embarrassed, but judging from her expression, she seemed like she really needed to get that confession off her chest. 

“Wow,” Lance said simply.

“Yeah,” Veronica said back. 

“How you act around her makes a lot more sense now,” Lance pointed out, and this stopped Veronica in her tracks.

“Wait, how exactly do I act around her?”

Now it’s Lance’s turn to be amused, and he smirks playfully. “Like a lovesick puppy,” He teased, and Veronica gasped.

She leaned down quickly and picked up a handful of sticky dirt, raising her arm in a throwing motion. “Take that back!”

“Never!”

The full-blown one-sided sticky dirt fight made the walk a lot faster than Lance intended, but then again, that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. The fight only ended once the two siblings saw flashing lights ahead, and the pair stopped.

“This is it?” Lance pointed, and Veronica nodded wordlessly. Then, without warning, she shoved a handful of dirt into his face and ran ahead while he sputtered and spat at the dirt sticking to his mouth. 

“Enjoy yourself, Lance! We’ll meet back up here in an hour!” Veronica’s voice carried obnoxiously, and Lance looked up to find her, but she was nowhere to be found. Lance shook his head. Figured. She had dragged him to a festival he didn’t even want to go to and ditched him there. 

He swiped some leftover dirt off his face, mumbling some choice words under his breath. Lance was steadily making a plan to get back at her when he tripped over something, sending him tumbling to the floor. “I already hate it here,” Lance grumbled before picking himself up and sitting in a kneeling position. 

Lance would’ve been content to just sit and mope by himself there on the ground, but something immediately caught his eye just a few feet in front of him. 

It was a fountain.

He got up from the ground gingerly and took notice of the fact that there really weren’t a lot of people at this festival. The ones that were there, however, didn’t seem to spare him a second glance. They looked to be trapped in their own heads, paying no one else attention, and Lance felt a newfound attachment to these people he had never met before. It was odd, and it left Lance feeling a little chilly, so he turned his eyes away from them, wanting to respect their privacy. 

Lance walked up to the fountain, looking at the water curiously, expecting coins or little slips of paper with wishes written on them. Instead, what he saw were stars, swirling around and floating in the water like it was the actual night sky. He quietly sat down on the fountain’s edge, content to look at this view for the rest of the festival until he had to leave. 

All of the stars were different shapes, sizes, and colors, some moving and others stationary. Some shining more brightly than others, and some dimming. Some shot themselves through the water at lightning speed, while others moved slowly, taking their time doing so. 

“Beautiful view, is it not?” A soft voice interrupts, and Lance turns back to look at a pair of golden eyes. He nodded silently, not really sure how to respond. He wasn’t exactly up for a conversation and certainly wasn’t expecting one, but this person didn’t seem so bad. 

The person with golden eyes sat next to him, keeping a respectable distance, which Lance appreciated. Golden Eyes dipped their hand into the starry water, gently caressing the many stars that made a home in the fountain. The stars seemed to move around the hand with ease, like they were used to the occurrence, and Lance watched silently. It was a comforting scene for some reason, and he wasn’t sure why. 

“Are you enjoying the Nepenthe Festival all by yourself?” Golden Eyes gently inquired, and Lance felt compelled to answer.

“Well, my sister practically begged me to come and see it with her, but she ditched me. I would’ve said no, but she’s kinda hard to say no to, y’know?” Lance answered honestly and sighed as he pondered his situation. 

Golden Eyes smiled fondly as if remembering something themselves. “I used to know someone just like that,” They shared, and Lance tilted his head.

“Used to?” He repeated, trying not to make his tone sound too insensitive.

Golden Eyes looked at him then, really looked at him, like realizing he was there for the first time. “Do you know what ‘nepenthe’ means?” They asked, their tone patient. Lance simply shook his head. It sounded like a fancy word, one that was far out of his vocabulary, but it sounded really pretty. 

“Something that can make you forget grief or suffering.”

“Oh,” Lance says simply and gazes back down at the fountain. Now he understands why Clotho and this moment seem so familiar. Except that Lance is sure that the Nepenthe Festival didn’t happen on this planet. He would remember if it did. 

“So…” Lance ponders his next question. “The fountain can teleport, then? Because I don’t remember the festival being on this planet,” He inquires, and Clotho smiles.

“There are multiple fountains, Lance. Just one fountain would not be able to contain all of the lives in the universe. However, this one happens to be my favorite. And...” Clotho trails off for a moment, frowning. “The others all seem to be on planets invaded by the Empire at the moment, which is very unfortunate.”

Lance stays silent at that revelation. More and more questions pop up in his mind, and he finally finds the courage to ask them, come hell or high water. “Okay,” He starts, and Clotho eyes questioningly. “I have a whole bunch of questions, okay? So this may take a while,” Lance warns, and Clotho nods.

“We have time.”

“Okay…” Lance sighs and thinks about his questions. He supposes he should start with the obvious question. “Why did you send me back in time? I’m not completely sure if you’re responsible for that or not, but if you are, I want to know why.”

“Because I felt like it.”

Lance blinks. 

“Let me rephrase. I related to the emotional response you had after Allura’s death, so I decided to give you another chance to try and make it right.” Clotho sounds nervous when they say this, as if they’re expecting Lance to have an outburst. 

“How? How do you even have the power to do that?” 

“I lost someone a long, long time ago. I did plenty of foolish things to try and get them back and ended up succeeding, but with them having no recollection of me whatsoever.” Clotho stands up, brushing invisible dust off their clothes. They begin to slowly pace around the room, and Lance watches like a hawk. “I brought them back using time travel, which went against the laws of the universe. To be fair, I did not know those even existed at the time, but I digress. My loved one forgetting me was my punishment for defying the universe.”

Lance gives Clotho a look of sympathy for a split second before looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. I knew that what I was getting into would have a cost; I just did not expect it to be memory loss, truth be told. To be honest, the memory loss was the last thing I would have expected to happen, which is a good thing since I tend to be a pessimist.”

Lance smiles a bit at the confession. Clotho seems indifferent to these events now, which, if he’s going off what Coran said before, those events most likely happened 10,000 years ago. However, Lance didn’t really feel like prying into what seemed like a sensitive subject to Clotho. Despite the lack of emotion on their part, he doesn’t want to push any boundaries. 

“I’m sorry to bring it up, anyway,” Lance still says, and Clotho simply looks at him, assuming he still has more questions, and boy, are they right. “Forgive my rudeness, please, but…what kind of alien are you exactly?” He asks experimentally, hoping that he’s not crossing any lines. 

“I am an Ataraxian. I am the last of my kind, to my knowledge at least. Our lifespans can stretch almost infinitely…as long as we are not fatally wounded.”

Lance’s curiosity is piqued by this, but he chooses not to badger unless Clotho offers up more information. 

“Basically, the only beings I have to worry about killing me would be the higher-ups of the Empire.”

“So, Zarkon, Haggar, the Druids, Lotor?” Lance names the few he’s mostly worried about, and Clotho nods. “Right. That brings another question. What if any of those guys happen to remember everything? I’m already confused about the situation on this planet,” Lance gestures around. “But if any of the big baddies understand what’s going on, that would be really, really bad, right?”

“I took all the necessary precautions when I cast that spell to make sure they wouldn’t remember anything. However, doing so caused a few throughout the universe to slip through the cracks, causing them to remember everything from the previous timeline. Thankfully, none of them have ill intentions, so there is no need to worry about them.”

“What about Sendak? He remembered.”

“I did not predict him slipping through the cracks either, but I did predict you being able to take care of the problem, so I did not fret too much.”

Lance feels a shiver go down his spine at the nonchalance in Clotho’s voice. Their voice sounds cold and reflective, like they’re thinking back on their actions with a passive coolness. 

“What about my friends? Why do they get…feelings?” Lance asks, struggling to come up with questions now. His mind keeps cycling through the ones that have already been answered, and his brain can’t generate any new questions. 

“That’s sort of the mandatory side-effect of the spell. The people you were close with, and the ones heavily affected by Allura’s death, are still very, very capable of remembering the past timeline. However, it’s hard to say for certain whether they will remember.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, that their remembering depends on you, Lance. Do you want them to remember? Or do you want them to remain oblivious?”

Lance doesn’t immediately know the answer to the question that’s now aimed at him, and he feels guilty for not knowing. Of course, he would want his friends to remember, right? Would he? Or would he want them to live in ignorance, not to remember all the pain and trauma they went through in the past? It’s confusing, and he doesn’t really know what to think. 

“Never mind that for right now. You still have quite a way to go before you’ll have to worry about that. For right now, I would focus on fixing the smaller things before working on the bigger things, which is what you’ve been doing so far. Fabulous job, by the way.”

Lance is taken aback by the sudden praise but says a small thanks anyway. He can’t really think of more questions that need answering at the moment and desperately hopes for at least one more to pop up.

Then it does. Hunk.

“Hunk! He’s probably getting brainwashed by a worm right now! We–”

“You needn’t worry about that. I took care of that problem almost immediately after I cast the time-travel spell. I figured that this would be a better time than any to converse with you, so I had to separate you from your friend in the wormhole. Terribly sorry about that, by the way.”

Lance feels relief flood through his system, both from himself and Blue, and he smiles. “That’s good. That makes me feel a lot better.”

Then, Lance really starts to think about the extent of Clotho’s powers, and he’s not really sure he wants to know how far they go. The way they explain and talk about it, it almost seems like it’s no big deal. But then they explain the miraculous things they can do, like sending him through space and time, and act like they just took a trip to the grocery store.

Lance has so many questions, but he doesn’t know if he wants those specific ones answered. Knowing would probably do more harm than good. He thinks.

“One more question. Do you know anything about the dream I had about Shiro?”

That seems to pique Clotho’s interest quite a bit. “What kind of dream?”

So they don’t know. That’s not very reassuring.

“Well, when I got caught in the explosion, I passed out. When I was asleep, I could talk to Shiro. The Shiro from the past timeline, anyway.”

Clotho sits back down on the fountain ledge, deep in thought. “I’ve never encountered this situation before. Was the other Shiro aware of what was going on?”

Lance shrugs. “He kinda acted like he knew, but he couldn’t say anything about it. It was weird. He was aware of the events that happened in both timelines, so…” He trails off, not really sure what to think. He didn’t take the time after he woke up to think about the other Shiro; he just kinda accepted it like it was no big deal. “He also said that I might be able to talk to the others like that if I get caught in another dangerous situation,” Lance adds, and Clotho hums, still thinking.

“I know it is difficult, considering recent events, but try your best to stay out of harm’s way. I’ve helped other people like this before, and they’ve never reported anything like this to me. It is concerning.”

Lance scoffs. “I’ll try, but the universe hasn’t exactly been giving me a choice lately.”

Clotho lets out an amused laugh. “It hardly ever does.”

“Are there any more questions for me? Like I said before, we have more than enough time,” Clotho inquires, but Lance shakes his head, standing up and stretching his arms.

“No, I think I’m good for right now,” He replies, but then another query pops into his mind as if to prove him wrong. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Here and there. I try to stay out of matters such as these, as I’m not the one fixing everything,” Clotho answers, shrugging, swiping their hands through the fountain’s water. “I only give people the chance to make things right. I don’t do anything else to help them other than inform them of their circumstances.” Clotho’s eyes are trained back on the water now, and Lance feels as if he’s somehow interrupting something.

Lance finds a discrepancy with what they just said. “The Baku worm?”

“That was an exception, and because there really was no other good time to give you this information. I would never purposefully put you or your friends in danger.” Clotho looks up at him then as if reading his mind. “Unless you want me to just pull the rug out from under you and let you, plus all the others, know about what happened.”

Lance waves his hands in front of him, not comforted by that idea. “No, no, it’s fine. This definitely works,” He reassures, but then winces at the pain in his arm. Weird. He had almost forgotten about that.

“You’ve been ignoring that injury for the better part of the day. You should let my attendants fix you up, and then we’ll help you contact Voltron,” Clotho offers, eyeing him up and down as if he’s a damaged toy. 

Blue lets out a wave of annoyance as if she’s both tired of being ignored and the thought of which Lance sees himself. Lance chuckles nervously. “Yeah, about that…Blue is kinda out of commission right now, and I was wondering if you guys could help me get her back up and functioning.”

Clotho waves a hand dismissively as if his words are absurd. “You needn’t ask us to help you. We were already planning on it. You should go fix yourself up first.”

Clotho’s voice is already sounding frustrated, and Lance nods. “Right. Thank you.”

“There is no need for thanks.”

Lance highly disagrees with their words but leaves it, having a feeling that an argument will ensue if he were to say anything else. Osculs eventually enters the room, giving a deep bow to Clotho before walking up to Lance. “I will take you to the infirmary. We have very good healers, and they will take great care of you.”

The idea of his injuries being healed up brings a smile to Lance’s face, and he steadily agrees, ready to reunite with Blue again. While she had remained a firm presence in his mind, she had slowly moved to the back burner, which left him feeling guilty.

“Thank you,” Lance says simply, and Osculs shakes his head. Can nobody on this planet accept gratitude or something?

Clotho waves goodbye as Lance leaves the room, and he feels a sense of calmness flow through him. Having all of his questions answered actually makes him feel better. Hunk is okay, Blue will be alright in hopefully a matter of hours, and he’ll be back with his friends in no time.

There is, however, a hint of jealousy towards Hunk, who gets to meet the merpeople again and gets to have a fun time doing it. Lucky. 

Osculs leads him to a warm, smaller room than Lance was expecting, which is full of beds and medicine cabinets. He escorts him over to one of the beds and tells Lance to stay put for a few minutes. Lance agrees, and Osculs leaves the room. He takes this opportunity to talk to Blue.

“How are you doing, Blue?”

I am alright. I assume that person was able to answer most of your questions?

“Off the top of my head, yeah, I think they did.”

Did their answers reassure you?

Lance shrugs at this, despite knowing that Blue can’t see him. “Kinda. There are still a few things I’m confused about, but maybe I should wait until later to think about those. Stressing about it will give me a migraine.”

That is a good idea.

Osculs returns after a few minutes with an unfamiliar race of alien that Lance has never seen before. They’re rather short, only coming to Lance’s knees standing up, with flowing blue hair that floats above their head like a cloud. Their skin is a light pink, and their eyes are a pastel shade of blue. 

They simply wave a hello before their hands start to glow, and the magic reminds Lance of Allura’s healing magic. He backs away from it slightly, not liking the memories flooding through his head right now. 

Osculs gives him a reassuring grin, which Lance returns before managing to sit still. The hands come closer to his arm, inch by inch, before gently finding a place on his forearm. What he feels is a resounding yet cooling shock ring through his shoulder. However, it doesn’t hurt, which relieves him, and he sighs as the pain in his arm dissipates.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Osculs asks smugly, and Lance silently agrees. “Is your leg the only other part of you that’s injured?” Osculs asks, and Lance nods.

“As far as I can tell, yeah.”

“What’s your name?” Lance asks the alien healing him. The alien looks at him wordlessly, and Osculs steps in to answer.

“Her name is Meraki. She is an Onisian, and their race was known quite well for their healing,” Osculs informs, and Lance has a bad feeling as to why he’s never met an Onisian before.

“I assume Zarkon found that useful?” He mutters to Osculs, and the Unilu sadly nods his head. Lance immediately regrets even saying that and says a quiet apology.

Meraki easily heals his leg and turns around to leave. “I’m sorry about your family,” Lance says, and she turns to look at him, her eyes widening. “Just know that Voltron will take down Zarkon. I promise.”

She smiles kindly. “I know. You’ve already done it once before. I am confident you can do it again.”

Her voice sounds rough and squeaky from lack of use, and before Lance can respond, she leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Osculs lets out a hushed laugh, sounding a bit relieved. “She hasn’t talked the whole time I’ve known her,” He says, and Lance bites his lip.

“I’m guessing you guys have been here for about three years, give or take?” Lance asks, and Osculs nods.

“That’s correct.”

Lance neglects to say anything else, already feeling guilty for putting all these people through utter hell again. It was because of him that these people had to lose their families, and possibly their lives, to Zarkon all over again, all because he couldn’t get over himself. He couldn’t grieve properly, and someone related to him so much that they sent him back in time just so he could fix it. Part of Lance wants to blame Clotho for sending him back in time like this, but a bigger part of him is also grateful to them for being able to give him this chance.

All of the conflicting emotions swirling around inside his mind are starting to give him a migraine, and Lance promptly stands up, stretching out his previously injured arm and leg. Besides the soreness that slightly aches throughout his body, he’s in relatively good shape, and he’s grateful for that.

“Can you tell Meraki I said thank you? I forgot to say it earlier,” Lance asks Osculs sheepishly, rubbing his arm.

Osculs simply nods his head. “Now, I heard something earlier about you needing help getting the Blue Lion up and functioning?”

“Yes,” Lance answers, and Osculs begins to guide him out of the castle, slamming the castle doors behind them as they walk. Lance explains most of what he thinks is wrong with Blue, and Osculs calls out to a few Galrans, who are watching Lance like a hawk. They walk up to him silently, presumably waiting for instructions from Osculs. 

Osculs commands them to retrieve Blue’s paw, and they silently nod their heads before sprinting off in Blue’s direction. 

They eventually make it to Blue, and Lance winces again at the sight of her. While nothing has really changed or gotten worse, he still doesn’t like seeing Blue like this. Her eyes start glowing at the sight of him, and Lance leads Osculs inside the cockpit. He shows him what he managed to fix earlier, and Osculs seems a bit impressed. 

“There really isn’t much else to fix that’ll be difficult. I’ll demonstrate how to fix these wires, just pay attention as we go,” Osculs directs as he takes off a cracked panel. 

“Yeah, but it’s probably easier for you since you have four arms,” Lance points out, and Osculs shrugs.

“Then have another person help you, easy fix. Now, watch and learn,” Osculs cracks his knuckles before getting to work on the wires. Lance watches closely, discovering that repairing the wires really isn’t as difficult as he thought. The terms that Osculs is using, however, are probably a bit harder to memorize than they should be.

In less than five minutes, the wires have been fixed, and Lance claps excitedly. “Thanks, man!”

Osculs waves all four of his hands dismissively. “It’s the least I can do for one of the Defenders of the Universe. Now, let’s see if they’ve retrieved her paw yet,” Osculs suggests, and they exit the cockpit, noticing the Galrans have already gotten to work on connecting Blue’s paw. 

Blue lets out a purr of glee, causing all of the people present to pause, looking up at her in confusion.

“She does that,” Lance excuses. “She’s grateful, really.”

The Galrans look at each other again before continuing their work. Osculs squints up at Blue and points to the crack in her jaw. “We’ll definitely need to get that fixed. I’m no sentient robot lion, but that has to be painful.”

Lance climbs up so he’s eye-to-eye with Blue and offers a hand to Osculs, helping the Unilu up. Osculs takes out a magnifying glass, looking deep inside the crack for any issues. “This will be an easy fix,” Osculs says proudly, and from out of nowhere, pulls a welding gun from one of his invisible pockets.

Lance bulks at it. “Where were you even carrying that thing?”

Osculs doesn’t answer, backing Lance up with one of his arms while he gets to work sealing the crack up. 

One of the Galrans whistles, signaling that the paw is reattached, and Lance jumps down to the ground, intent on thanking them. He doesn’t know why these Galrans are here instead of with the Empire, but either way, he’s grateful to them. He walks up to them, offering a hand to shake. “Thank you for helping fix Blue,” He says, and the Galrans, to no surprise whatsoever, shake their heads at him. 

“There is no thanks necessary. This is just what we do,” One of them says, and before Lance can ask them their names, they turn on their heels and walk off, leaving Lance watching wordlessly. 

Osculs jumps down right beside Lance, watching the Galrans leave with a smile on his face. “They’re just shy. Don’t worry about them.”

Lance hums and looks back up at Blue. “Is she ready to go?” He asks, and Osculs nods.

“We’ve fixed all the major problems here. When you get back, though, I would suggest buffing out some of those scratches and getting her a new paint job. She looks like she needs it.”

Lance makes a note for later to definitely do that and reenters the cockpit with Osculs, sitting down in his seat. Blue’s jaw closes this time, causing Lance to smile. “Alright, Blue. Let’s see if you can make it to…Zestrora City?” Lance trails off, looking at Osculs bashfully. He had forgotten to ask the proper name of the town they were in. Osculs nods, and Lance sighs in relief. 

That will be a piece of cake.

Blue shoots off the ground, causing Osculs to grab onto Lance’s seat for dear life. “Little excitable, is she?” Osculs says, and Lance scoffs.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Blue zooms over to the city, taking care not to demolish any buildings by accident. She flies with grace and makes it to the castle shortly, lowering herself down into a sitting position. She lowers her head, allowing Lance and Osculs to exit, and Osculs laughs nervously.

“I don’t know how you Paladins fly in those Lions every day, but consider me impressed.”

They watch the castle doors open, and Clotho walks out, smiling at the sight of the Blue Lion. “Are you ready to go, Lance? We’ll send the beacon whenever you are ready.”

Lance gives a confident nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” He replies, and Clotho nods their head to one of their attendants, who’s holding a gun of some sort. It looks like a six-foot version of a Flare gun, and Lance raises an eyebrow. Whatever gets him rescued, he guesses.

They fire the gun into the sky, sending what looks to be a compact satellite up to the stars. The beeps it lets out are audible from the ground, and Lance sighs. He hopes his friends come soon. As much as he enjoyed his time on Zestrora, he really just wants to see his friends and know they’re alright. As much as he believes Clotho’s claim about taking care of the Baku worm, he needs to see Hunk with his own eyes before he can stop worrying.

Before he can say anything else, a wormhole opens right above Zestrora City, and out comes the Green Lion. “Pidge!” He shouts, waving his hands around. The Blue Lion is the obvious indicator he’s here, but he still can’t contain his excitement. 

He shoots one final look at Clotho. “Should I tell Coran I saw you?” He asks genuinely, and Clotho’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Tell him whatever you wish. Next time we meet, however, I will make an attempt to see my old friend again in person.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Lance vows and turns back towards Blue. He enters the cockpit and puts on his helmet. “Lance! Are you okay?” Pidge’s voice rings out. Her tone sounds reassuring.

“Yeah, I’m alright. What about the others?” He inquires, and Pidge sighs.

“Shiro’s in a pod, but we’re all okay.”

“That’s good,” Lance says, pleased that everything worked out. “Let’s get back to the Castle then.”

Chapter Text

Shiro’s face looks relaxed through the pod’s glass, an expression Lance hadn’t seen in what feels like years. He doesn’t seem to be having any nightmares, at least not from what Lance can tell. 

Keith stands right outside the pod, posture stiff and arms crossed. He looks grim like he believes Shiro is tiptoeing on the line between life and death. Lance doesn’t blame him, as he has plenty of reasons to think that way. Lance knows that Keith has those specific feelings, the ones that tell him that something bad is going to happen soon. Shiro, in particular, has probably been raising those flags for quite a while, but Keith has tried his best to ignore them. Until now, anyway.

“How much longer does he have?” Hunk asks for the umpteenth time, and Coran sighs.

“Precisely fifty ticks less than the last time you asked,” He answers, and Hunk quietly apologizes. Coran doesn’t say anything back, deciding instead to just pat Hunk on the shoulder in what looks like a comforting manner. 

“Perhaps you all should get some rest,” Allura suggests, her tone firm, and no one really has the gall to object to this. Even Keith silently nods his head, and Lance is immediately worried. Keith would usually put up more of a fight than that. Something is wrong.

Lance tugs on Keith’s jacket sleeve, not harshly, but enough to stop him in his tracks. “Do you wanna talk?” He asks, and Keith nods his head again. Lance feels relieved, although a bit worried, and lets Keith lead the way. They walk all the way to the hangar, and Lance looks around, a little confused. Why does Keith want to talk here, of all places?

“Did something happen while you and Shiro were separated?” Lance takes initiative and kicks off the conversation. Keith sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

There’s a slight blush on his face like he’s embarrassed. “Yeah, we talked about a few things,” then Keith closes his eyes like he’s thinking back on the moment with clarity. “But the thing that stood out to me the most was…” He trails off for a moment, staring off into space as he recalls the moment. “Shiro said, should anything happen to him… he wants me to lead the team.”

Lance nods his head slowly. Keith looks up at Lance expectantly, but Lance isn’t quite sure what Keith is looking for. A rebuttal? An insult? Lance isn’t that person anymore (thank the stars), and he has some dignity. “Okay, and that concerns you because…?”

Lance knows exactly why that would concern Keith, but his friend needs to say it out loud. He needs to know that he can talk to his friends, his teammates, and know that nothing bad will come of it.

Keith holds out his hands, clearly bewildered at the lack of reaction. “Uh, I’m not exactly the perfect picture of leadership if you can’t tell,” He complains, and Lance shakes his head.

“Maybe not right now, but there’s always room for improvement, y’know?”

“Are you trying to be reassuring? Because I honestly can’t tell,” Keith narrows his eyes, trying to discern whether Lance is teasing him. 

“All I’m saying is that you might not see it,” Lance pokes Keith gently in the chest. “But I do. And while you can’t imagine yourself being the leader, just know that I can for both of us at least.”

Keith’s blush turns a deeper red, and Lance has the strange urge to reach out and poke Keith’s cheek. But that’s obviously not socially acceptable, and would probably end with Lance getting punched in the face, so he ignores that temptation. 

“Why?”

Lance sighs and promptly sits down on the ground, leaving Keith to look down at him. He pats the floor in front of him, and Keith reluctantly sits down in front of him. Keith crosses his arms like he’s ashamed to be following along with this. “There are multiple reasons why, but I’ll try to give you a really good one.”

Keith looks at him expectantly. Lance did have what he thought was a really good explanation, but the words floated out of his mind as soon as Keith looked at him like that, like what he had to say was actually important. 

“Because you’re you.”

Dumbass. Stupid. Why did you think that was okay to say? 

“Uh…” Keith doesn’t look impressed by Lance’s answer, but he’s not exactly brushing it off, either. 

“Now, what I’m about to say may sound weird, but hear me out,” Lance holds up his hands, and Keith raises an eyebrow. “Look at all of us. I’m a disaster, Hunk’s afraid of his own shadow most of the time (no offense to him, I love him to death), Pidge is more focused on finding her family, and Allura…well…she’s untested, but I doubt she’d want to fly the Black Lion. You’re the worthiest candidate. You’re strong, and while you may be a hothead most of the time, you’ll do whatever you can to make sure we complete a mission. Although now that I think about it, that could also be a bad thing too…”

“That’s enough. I understand.”

“Do you? Because I think you’re just trying to shut me up,” Lance raises his eyebrows this time, and Keith scoffs out a laugh.

“That’s not it. It’s just…I thought the same about you. You’re not a disaster, Lance. I think you’d make a better leader than I ever could, that’s all.”

Now it’s Lance’s turn to scoff. “Nope. Not happening. No way.”

“Why?”

“‘Cuz I said so. And anyway, I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’d probably crack under the pressure or something,” He shrugs. Lance did want to be the leader once upon a time, but it didn’t really interest him at all anymore. Being the right-hand man, however, made him feel more responsible and forced him to escape that childish fantasy of saving the universe and getting the girl. It was a stupid pipe dream then, and it’s a stupid pipe dream now. 

“And you think I wouldn’t?” Keith seems more confused by Lance’s reasoning.

“I think that you’re very persistent. When you can’t get something down, you keep trying and trying until you get it right, no matter what happens. I think if you ever became Leader, you’d keep trying and trying to get better at it until you eventually succeed.”

Keith goes silent at this, probably trying to come up with an argument. Lance, however, is ready to fire back at any rebuttal Keith comes up with, and he patiently waits. He finally sighs in defeat, and Lance smiles triumphantly. 

“Look, man. I wouldn’t worry about all that right now. I’m sure we’ll all do whatever we can to make sure Shiro stays alive and well, right? We can force the old man to talk more about it when he’s up and awake, okay?”

“He’s twenty-five,” Keith corrects, although he’s smiling as he says this. 

“Still,” Lance shrugs. “He sounds like an old man if he’s already talking about passing down the mantle.”

Keith can’t find it in himself to argue with that statement and huffs out a laugh. 

“Is that all that’s bothering you? You seemed really deep in thought earlier,” Lance inquires, and Keith spares a look at him, biting his lip as if he’s not sure what to say.

“Yeah, but it’s not something I can talk about right now,” Keith answers, his voice hesitant.

Lance waves a hand dismissively. “No worries. Just know that if you ever need to talk about something, I’ll be there, okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lance,” Keith says in a tone that’s unfamiliar and gets up from the floor. He extends a hand to Lance, and the latter takes it, standing up. Lance takes the opportunity to ruffle Keith’s mullet, trying to disperse the weird atmosphere. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s strange by Lance’s standards, and he doesn’t really know what to say or how to act in situations like this. 

“We should eat something. Come on, Mullet,” Lance decides and motions for Keith to follow. 

The two make their way to the kitchen, and Keith takes a moment to groan. “I wish we had something else to eat besides food goo. I miss cheeseburgers so much,” He complains, and Lance nods in agreement.

“Me too, man. Hunk, try as he might, attempts to replicate Earth food, but it’ll never be the same, y’know?”

“His effort is still greatly appreciated.”

“That it is,” Lance says and roots through the fridge for anything other than goo. In one half of the fridge, there are multiple containers labeled ‘Food Goo’ in neat lettering. In the other half of the fridge, countless water packets that remind Lance of Capri-Suns.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nada,” Lance answers and closes the fridge doors, disappointed. He knows they’ve only been in space for a short time, but he was expecting more than food goo and water in the fridge. 

After forcing themselves to shovel down the food goo, Keith and Lance decide to part ways and go to their rooms. Shiro still has a little longer than a day to recover in the pod, and Lance works hard to recall what happens next. 

Day by day, the events from the previous timeline almost seem to blur together, and that revelation doesn’t make Lance feel better. He needs to know precisely what happens, so he can try to avoid as many deaths as possible. Clotho didn’t mention anything about that during their conversation, but then again, Lance didn’t exactly ask.

Lance also doesn’t have the best memory either, so it might just be his own damn fault. He doesn’t know. 

He sits on his bed now, thinking back to what happened last time. 

After Shiro had gotten out of his pod, he had explained to everyone that Ulaz had saved him, and he and Allura had argued about trusting any Galra, plus the whole debacle of Zarkon being the former Black Paladin. Ulaz then found a way onto the Castleship, causing everyone to be suspicious of him immediately. This had caused Allura to immediately dismiss anything he said, and then later, Ulaz had sacrificed himself to the Robeast so Voltron could get away.

At least, that’s what Lance remembers, to the best of his ability, anyway. Lance lies back on his pillow, thinking deeply about what to do. There would probably be less arguing this time, but Allura would still distrust the Blade, which is to be expected. He understood her obvious bias against the Galra, but he hoped it was not as severe as it was last time. Though Keith never said anything to that effect (that he remembers), Lance could only guess how much Allura’s words back then hurt Keith.

Lance sighs. He doesn’t know what to make of all this, still. He doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do to prevent Ulaz from sacrificing himself. Perhaps there’s a way to send an explosion equivalent to the one Ulaz’s ship caused into the Robeast to avoid the sacrifice? Ugh, this whole thing is giving him a migraine. 

Lance doesn’t know what to do, and he doesn’t have any good ideas. He’s no engineer like Hunk, nor is he into tech like Pidge. 

How is he going to rectify this?

He closes his eyes, genuinely wanting to sleep this off. Thinking about this anymore isn’t going to help him at all, not when his brain is fried from what feels like a lack of sleep. Lance throws an arm over his face, blocking out the light in his room; he’s too lazy to get up and turn off. 

Tomorrow, Shiro will wake up, and then he’ll figure out what to do. Hopefully. 

The next day comes a lot sooner than Lance is expecting, and even though Coran reassured him that he got a whopping nine vargas, Lance still feels like he hasn’t slept a wink. 

Everyone stands outside of Shiro’s pod, wanting to welcome him back into the land of the living with smiles. After what feels like only a few short minutes, the pod’s glass dissipates, and Shiro slumps forward. Hunk and Keith rush forward to catch him, and Shiro tilts his head up drowsily. 

He mumbles something that only Keith and Hunk seem to hear, and the pair stops in their tracks. Shiro’s head droops forward, and he begins to snore very loudly. 

Pidge looks on in distaste, readjusting her glasses testily. 

Allura clears her throat. “Let’s lay him down, shall we? We can do some post-pod scans while we wait for him to wake up, just to make sure everything’s okay,” She suggests, and Hunk and Keith comply, laying Shiro down on a flat table nearby.

Coran goes through the tests, with everything coming back clear. “His brain waves are picking up a bit more now. He should be waking up any time,” Coran says as he observes his tablet, and as if on cue, Shiro opens his eyes.

After a few more minor checks, Shiro eventually explains the dream he had while he was in the pod. Surprisingly, Allura says nothing for a few moments, as if processing. Then she asks a single question, much to the surprise of everyone.

“Are you absolutely sure they were Galra?”

“Without a doubt,” Shiro nods firmly. 

Allura looks down at the ground, clearly conflicted. Lance wonders if she’s beginning to have feelings, too, feelings that say that not all Galra are bad. 

There is no anger, no yelling, no arguing, and no insults toward the Galra. There is only inflection and consideration coming from Allura, but her expression betrays her true feelings.

She looks…hopeful.

The rest of the team looks, for lack of a better word, bewildered by Allura’s behavior, and their confusion would make sense.

Lance, however, is very grateful for the change and gladly welcomes it. Encourages it, even.

“More people to fight with against Zarkon, huh? Sounds great,” Lance says cheerfully, and Shiro manages a weak smile, wincing as Pidge hooks something up to his Galran prosthetic.

“Still sounds a little suspicious to me, but I’ll be very happy if it’s true,” Hunk shrugs along. 

Keith stays silent, but Lance can tell that he looks a little relieved at Allura’s reaction. From his previously scrunched-up shoulders and worried frown, Lance could tell he was bracing himself for the worst. 

Offhandedly, Lance thinks that this might make setting Allura and Keith up a bit easier in the future. Though for some reason, something about that thought urks him, and he can’t understand why. 

Perhaps his own feelings for Allura are trying to burst through and show themselves, but Lance harshly nips that entire thought in the bud. They can’t happen again. It won’t work out. 

After what feels like a few moments of self-reflection on everyone’s part, Allura claps her hands together. “I need some time to think more about this. My mind is a little scattered at the moment,” She says, her voice small, and she turns away. Coran calls out to her, but she ignores him, instead exiting the room without looking back.

Lance frowns. He wanted her to understand that not all Galra are bad, sure, but he didn’t want her to have a crisis over it. Overthinking certain things never bodes well, at least in Lance’s experience, anyway.

Pidge sighs as she examines whatever’s coming up on her laptop screen. “This Galra code is almost impossible to decipher,” She grumbles and casts an apologetic look toward Shiro. “Sorry, Shiro. I might need you to sit here for a while while I try to make sense of all this,” She says, her tone nervous.

Unease flows through Lance, an increasingly familiar feeling that’s starting to make him go crazy. Pidge didn’t struggle with this at all last time. She found the coordinates for Ulaz’s base in just a few minutes. This time, it seems like…

Lance bites the inside of his cheek. Could the coordinates have changed? If any of the Blades remembered what happened in the last timeline, it was possible. Ulaz might actually have a chance this time around. 

He feels a glimmer of hope spark through him like electricity and tries not to let it show on his face. 

Shiro lets out a tired laugh. “It’s fine. I’ll probably just take a nap while you work,” He says reassuringly and rests his head in his hand, closing his eyes.

He’s out in a matter of seconds.

Pidge looks at the remaining (and awake) people still in the room and smiles sheepishly. “It might take me a few hours. You guys don’t have to stay in here the whole time,” She says, casting a last look at everyone before glancing back at her computer screen. Pidge begins typing rapidly, cursing under her breath, and Hunk huffs. 

“I don’t know why, but I was expecting something exciting to happen,” Lance hears Hunk mutter, and he looks at the floor nervously. 

Would Hunk really consider arguing and fighting to be exciting?

“Well, I’m going to the training deck. Let me know if something happens,” Keith announces as he stretches his arms. He looks at Lance. “Wanna come with me, Lance?”

Lance is kinda thrown for a loop at the invitation and smiles. He would love to, but he needs to talk to Coran first. “How about I join you in a bit? I need to talk to Coran about something first,” He excuses, and Keith shoots a silent thumbs-up his way before turning and walking out of the room. 

Hunk sends him a questionable look but says nothing, opting instead to sit down next to Pidge. Pidge whispers something that only Hunk seems to hear, causing the man to laugh. They’re probably talking smack, aren’t they?

“Coran,” Lance says, and the Altean nods firmly, twirling his mustache.

“Let’s talk over a quick cup of tea, my dear boy,” Coran suggests and leads the way toward the kitchen.

When Coran says a quick cup of tea, he really means it. He’s able to prepare a small cup in a matter of twenty ticks, which Lance only knows because Coran asked him to time it. “So, what is it you wanted to talk about now? Certainly not another abduction, I should hope?”

Coran’s voice isn’t angry, but it also isn’t very kind.

Lance breaks into a cold sweat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that earlier. I was worried about how you would react. And I knew it would turn out all right–”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, my dear boy. Now, seriously. What was it you wanted to talk about?” Coran’s voice is filled with amusement, and Lance resists the urge to frown.

“Well,” Lance begins, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Remember that talk we had about Clotho just a few days ago?” 

Coran nods silently, although his ears literally twitch at the name. 

“I met them. After we all got separated by the wormhole, anyway,” Lance informs, and Coran simply nods his head.

“I see. Did you get all the answers you were looking for after meeting them?”

Lance is a bit taken aback at Coran’s nonchalant attitude, but nods his head anyway. “More or less. But the more I think back on it, the more questions keep popping up out of thin air,” Lance answers. Coran hums, drinking his tea in one gulp. “That’s the way the universe flows, Lance.”

Lance finishes his cup of tea a few seconds later, sighing at the bitter taste. He never really was one for tea, but it did seem to calm his nerves just a bit. “Anyway, I just thought I should tell you. They said they would try to talk to you next time we ran into each other, so…”

Coran smiles widely at this. “I can’t wait to see them again,” His tone is excited, and Lance quirks his mouth awkwardly. Something doesn’t feel right about this conversation, but he can’t tell what it is. Maybe he’s just tired? Or maybe he expected more of a reaction from Coran? He doesn’t know. It’s probably not important.

“Thanks for the tea, Coran. I’ll see you later,” Lance decides to cut the conversation short before his mind pops up with more weird ideas and gives Coran a two-fingered salute. The Altean waves back, the wide smile from earlier still on his face, and Lance distantly thinks that Coran might be concealing his excitement so as not to expose the others to what’s actually happening. Yeah, that has to be it.

Lance feels the doors close behind him, and relief courses through him, although for what reason, he can’t tell.

He decides to make his way to the training deck, refusing to think any more about Coran’s behavior. If Lance begins to overthink things, he’ll become jumpy, and if he becomes jumpy, it’ll make his behavior obvious. He needs to keep a level head. 

When Lance walks in, he’s a bit surprised to see Keith just lying in the middle of the room, sweat pouring off of him. “Dude, why are you sweating so much? You’ve been down here for like five minutes,” Lance inquires, walking up to his collapsed friend. 

Keith looks back up at him, shrugging his shoulders. “I decided to go for the highest level I could muster, but…” He gestures to himself. “I ended up having to bow out pretty quickly.”

Lance clicks his tongue disappointedly. He reaches out a hand, waiting for Keith to grab it. “Here, why don’t you sit down somewhere a bit more comfortable?” Lance nods his head over towards a bench that’s on the other side of the room, and Keith groans.

“But that’s soooo far,” He whines, and Lance rolls his eyes. “Besides,” Keith says, grabbing Lance’s hand. “The floor feels pretty comfortable right now.” Lance is promptly yanked down to Keith’s level, landing on his hands and knees. He shoots a glare at Keith, who seems pretty damn proud of himself. “See?”

Keith is giving him that look again, and Lance has to bring himself to look away. If that look means what Lance is beginning to think it means, he has to shut it down. He just… doesn’t know how. Maybe he’s deluding himself? Maybe it doesn’t mean what he thinks it means?

Lance sighs for what feels like the millionth time and lies on his back next to Keith, staring up at the ceiling of the training room. 

“Something on your mind?” Keith’s voice sounds out, and Lance lets out a weak laugh.

“Just a little homesick, I guess.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Lance looked away from the night sky and noticed Keith walking toward him. Lance simply shrugged, forcing a weak smile. It wasn’t exactly fake, but he also wasn’t jumping for joy. The smile just felt sort of resigned. 

“It’s kind of dumb. You wouldn’t want to hear it,” Lance said dismissively, shaking his head. 

He was sitting at the dinner table, where he and the others had been sitting earlier during the Reunion dinner, wanting to be alone. Lance had managed to play the role of ‘happy-go-lucky farmer’ surprisingly well, at least, he thought so. However, Keith was the only one who actually came to check on him.

“Try me,” Keith said, taking his seat next to Lance. He put his elbows on the table, gazing at Lance with a weird look. It looked like a combination of sadness and…something else. 

Lance exhaled softly and thought about how he should word his answer. “Part of me kinda misses being up in space, y’know? Isn’t that dumb?”

Keith opened his mouth to say something, but closed it in the next second as if he sensed that Lance had more to say. 

“I mean, I don’t miss seeing the death and destruction Zarkon caused and having to fix all of it, but I do miss the… the togetherness of it all, y’know? Exploring new planets, meeting new people, being up there with everyone… it felt almost like a second home.” Lance laughed bitterly. “It’s stupid. Because the more I think back on it, the more I keep thinking about how things could’ve gone differently. All these memories I think back on…they’re all filled with bitterness now.”

Keith laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that. If you put yourself in that hole, you’ll never be able to climb out of it.”

Lance knew that. 

“I know how easy it is to think back on all of it with sourness, but,” Keith frowned as if struggling with what to say next. “But you can’t let the bad thoughts take over the good ones. You have to find the good in every situation.” Keith was starting to sound like a Hallmark card at this point. “Think back to when Sendak first attacked the Castle. You remember?”

Lance definitely remembered. “Yeah, I almost died.”

Keith hummed in reply. “You did. That’s letting the bad override the good. Can you think of any good that came out of that night? Something that you can smile about?”

Lance took a moment to think about it. Well, he guessed there was one, although he felt a little embarrassed saying it out loud.

“We all started to work well together as a team. I guess that’s when I realized you weren’t so bad,” Lance said, shrugging, trying to play it off like a bad joke. But Keith didn’t take it as one.

He gave Lance a kind smile, so soft and happy that Lance’s heart stuttered. 

Uh. Whoa. That’s new.

“That's funny because I thought the exact same thing.”

Chapter Text

Lance feels numb.

The words that Pidge was just telling him are going in one ear and out the other, clashing with Coran’s own warning that Zarkon is attacking.

Zarkon is attacking.

Why?

“We need to wormhole, now! Everyone to your stations,” Shiro commands, though his voice still sounds groggy after being woken up out of his nap so suddenly. “We’ve got to put some distance between us and Zarkon. This could be the fight of our lives!”

Lance sits down at his station, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically at Shiro’s remark. This is just the beginning, he wants to say. He bites his lip and starts controlling his drone, shooting each fighter with muscle memory.

Pidge calls out commands left and right, and Lance wastes no time in taking them out.

Why is this happening?

This isn’t right.

Lance can’t hear anything out of his left ear now, and he feels his throat begin to burn. Still, he continues to shoot, even when the hearing in his right ear goes out too, and he’s left with a ringing in his head that’s beginning to resonate throughout his whole body. 

They were supposed to find Ulaz first.

They were supposed to go save the Olkari.

Then they were supposed to fight Zarkon.

Why is this happening so soon?

Whatdidhedowrongthistimedidhescrewwiththetimelinetoomuchisthisallhisfault–

“Lance, on your left!” Keith’s voice calls out suddenly, and Lance sighs, taking out a fighter that had gotten a little too close. The hearing in his left ear is starting to come back, although there’s still a buzzing that muffles everything else.

He works on autopilot, relying on Pidge’s hand motions that she’s begun to make since she’s realized that not everyone can hear her over all the chaos going on. Or she’s doing it for him specifically? He doesn’t know. He can’t tell. Lance is too busy trying not to throw up, cry, or literally anything else. 

After a muffled command from Allura, the ship makes a wormhole jump, and Lance feels his hands begin to tingle. A steadier beat starts to pound through Lance’s ears, and he realizes that he can hear his own blood pumping. 

The ship comes out the other end intact, with everyone breathing a sigh of relief. However, Lance finds it rather difficult to suck any air into his lungs. What is wrong with him? Why is he acting this way? Everyone’s fine. They’re okay.

Despite his trying to reassure himself, Lance still can’t find the ability to breathe. He hears someone ask him a question, but Lance doesn’t process it, getting up from his seat. “I need to lie down,” He excuses hastily and promptly leaves the room. He doesn’t know where he’s going or why he’s leaving his friends to worry about him. All he knows is that he needs to be alone.

After a few moments of rushing down the hallway, he’s able to take short, light breaths. They don’t exactly help his situation of making him feel less dizzy or nauseous, but it does make him feel a bit better that he didn’t forget how to breathe. For long, anyway.

Lance finds himself outside the locker room before too long and enters, hoping that none of his friends decide to check in here if they feel so inclined to look for him. He locks himself into a shower stall and turns on the knob to the coldest setting, hoping it’ll startle him out of this attack he seems to be having. 

The cold water feels like pure ice as it pours over his head, over his face, and down his back and chest. He’s able to suck in the first deep breath he’s had since Zarkon attacked, and he exhales shakily as he slides down to the ground. 

Lance’s mind begins to clear slowly, bit by bit, until he realizes that his clothes are pretty much plastered to his body, and he shifts uncomfortably into a huddled position, bringing his knees close to his chest. He leans his head against the wall of the shower, taking in deep breaths as he closes his eyes.

Lance could fall asleep in here if he let himself, but he’d probably catch a cold if he took a nap in the freezing cold water that’s beginning to pool at his feet. 

“Oh man, my converse are getting all wet,” He mumbles out loud, shifting his feet to where they’re not blocking the drain.

“Is that really the worst of your problems right now?” An amused voice asks from outside the stall, and Lance jumps. He didn’t realize someone had followed him in there. “It’s me,” Pidge’s voice reassures, and Lance sighs in relief.

“Yeah, these shoes are awesome,” Lance answers, flicking a drop of water off his shoe. The shoes are clinging to his feet now like a vice, and he wants to take them off. 

He hears Pidge sit down outside the stall, and the noise is prominent because the sound of someone splashing down into a small pool of water is rather obvious. 

“Are you okay? You seemed…off back there,” Pidge says observantly, and Lance sighs.

“The attack just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting him to find us so…soon,” Lance replies. It isn’t technically a lie, so he doesn’t feel bad for omitting a bit of truth from his statement. 

His real answer would be: “Zarkon shouldn’t have attacked us for at least a couple of days, and you wanna know how I know? Because I’m from the future and I know that this isn’t right, and I also know that Shiro’s gonna die, and then Allura–”

“Me neither. I wonder how Zarkon could be finding us so easily,” Pidge ponders, thankfully interrupting Lance’s thoughts.

“Maybe he’s tracking the Black Lion since he used to be the Black Paladin,” Lance answers blankly, but he says this maybe statement with certainty since he knows it’s the truth. 

“I remember you said the same thing before,” Pidge says. “You really think that could be it?” Her voice isn’t doubtful, just pleasantly curious, as if she’s inquiring about the weather.

“What else do you think it could be?” Lance asks back and cringes at how rough his voice sounds. 

“I don’t think it could be anything else. I agree with you,” Pidge answers, and Lance recalls that this revelation did come from Pidge last time, although everyone had shut it down without a thought. Including himself. Now he feels like a jackass. But he can’t exactly apologize for it right now because then it would be weird, and he would have to explain everything.

“Can you come out of the stall so I can make sure you’re okay?” Pidge’s voice asks, small and more childlike than Lance is comfortable with.

“Yeah,” Lance answers softly and gets up, wincing at the feeling of wet clothes. Ugh, why did he do this to himself? He opens the stall door, feigning a small smile at the sight of Pidge. She’s sitting in a large puddle of water criss-cross-applesauce style, her arms crossed, but her expression is kind when she looks up at him.

“You look like a wet cat,” Pidge says, cracking a smile.

“Well, at least I won’t look like I peed myself when I stand up,” Lance shrugs, and Pidge laughs.

He offers a hand to Pidge, helping her up from the puddle that is slowly dissipating down the shower drain. She stretches when she stands up, but cringes at the feeling of her pants sticking to the back of her legs. 

“So, are you gonna be okay? I know how exhausting anxiety attacks can be,” Pidge says, looking up at Lance with worried eyes. He appreciates the concern, but still feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’ll be fine. Especially if I’ve got a little gremlin keeping an eye on me,” Lance nudges her shoulder, but makes a mental note later to make sure Pidge is okay. He would talk about it now, but from her nervous demeanor and slightly shaking hands, Lance decides she should rest first before having that conversation. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm her.

Pidge punches him lightly, but there’s no real weight behind it. “Come on. The others want to make a game plan of what’s going to happen next. They were also kinda worried about you, but I think they were all too shaken up from Zarkon’s surprise attack to move.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, not able to think of anything more substantial to say. “Don’t you think we should get changed first?”

Pidge takes a good look at him before looking over her own shoulder at her soaked pants. Then she nods her head. “We’ll change, and then we’ll go meet the others.”

After changing into dry clothes, Pidge and Lance make it back to the bridge. Everyone asks if both of them are okay, and they answer affirmatively.

“Pidge said you guys wanted to focus on our next step?” Lance starts the conversation, not wanting the attention on him any longer.

“Yes. Pidge? You said you found some coordinates in my arm, correct?” Shiro directs towards Pidge, and she nods.

She slides into her seat and opens her computer, gesturing for everyone to come to look at her screen. Some pictures pop onto the screen, and Lance realizes that one of the knives from the Blade of Marmora is pictured. He hears Keith gasp slightly.

“Some of the codes and numbers kept repeating, and eventually, I was able to decipher these coordinates,” Pidge brings them up on her screen. “They lead to this base in the Ciladathon system,” She explains, and Lance narrows his eyes.

That wasn’t the system from last time. Last time, it was the Thaldycon system, if he’s remembering correctly. 

Lance supposes it’s not that far out of left field that any of the Blade would remember the past timeline. Then again, it also worries him that maybe some of the Galra soldiers actually on Zarkon’s side would remember and warn the damn dictator in advance. Still, it unnerves him that so many possibilities could be at play here and mess this entire timeline up. He doesn’t know what to do. If too many things change, Lance won’t be able to help any more than he already has, and he hasn’t helped that much in the grand scheme of things.

“So what’s our–”

The ship is suddenly rocked off balance by a heavy hit, and everyone around the room stumbles. “It’s the Galra. They found us again!” Coran announces, and everyone sits back down in their seats for round two. 

Lance remembers this. He remembers how many times Zarkon had tracked them down, how many times in a row he sent his fleets after them. Lance didn’t miss this.

He’s just wondering why and how it’s happening so early.

Lance manages to shoot at the fighters this time without inducing another anxiety attack, but he does feel numb. He doesn’t know what to do at this point. All these events are happening out of order. 

“How is he tracking us?” Shiro grumbles out frustratedly, and Lance can hear Pidge answer, but his ears are starting to buzz again, so he can’t make out everything she’s saying. He can only assume it’s what they talked about earlier.

“A paladin and Lion’s bond has never been known to stretch out over vast distances,” Coran interjects, and Lance clears his throat.

“I agree with Pidge. Wouldn’t the ship detect any tracking devices, Allura?”

Allura yells out an affirmative, and Shiro sighs. “Let’s just wormhole away from this fleet, and then we’ll decide our next move.” Everyone prepares themselves, and Lance notices that Coran is sweating a lot more than normal. Oh. That’s happening again now, too, huh? Coran would have probably appreciated a warning, but oh well. 

Allura manages to open another wormhole and then collapses as soon as the ship makes it through. Coran tries to help her up, but his hands seem too slippery to really hang on to. He slips back into another puddle of sweat, and everyone looks at him questioningly. Allura explains with a soft expression that Coran has a case of the slipperies, and he firmly denies this, but not before giving Lance a betrayed look that said, Why in the quiznak didn’t you tell me?

Lance gives him an apologetic look.

“So, Lance and I both think that Zarkon is tracking us through the Black Lion. Does anyone else have other ideas as to how he could be tracking us?” Pidge asks suddenly, and everyone looks around at each other. 

“Perhaps he is tracking us through me instead,” Allura states, and Lance finds that he can’t really find a good enough reason for her to reject that thought. Her father was close to Zarkon once upon a time, and she might think Zarkon was connected to her in some way. Or his wife, possibly. Damn it. 

“It’s not you, Princess Allura. It’s me,” Keith interrupts, and Lance wants to roll his eyes. He loves his friends a great deal, but they can act really dumb sometimes.

“Want to explain why he would be tracking you?” He asks Keith pointedly, and Keith crosses his arms.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe he imprinted on me during our fight,” He stutters slightly.

Lance needs to try to stop this madness. “Shiro,” He interrupts. “How about you bond with the Black Lion a bit more, just in case Zarkon is tracking us through Black? It can’t hurt to try, right?”

Shiro nods his head. “It can’t hurt at all. Everyone else, you should get some rest. We don’t know if and when Zarkon will strike again, so we need to be as well-rested as possible.”

Pidge seems proud of their small victory, and Lance feels better that Pidge’s original idea is actually getting some recognition. Sorry for not believing you last time, gremlin.

Instead of trying to rest as Shiro suggested, Lance decides to go to his own Lion’s hangar. He and Blue are pretty much two peas in a pod, but who knows? If everything keeps going down this path, where nothing is going right or in order, this could be one of the only times Lance can bond with Blue before he’s switched over to Red.

No. Stop. Quit thinking like that.

He enters Blue’s hangar and briefly smiles up at her. Her eyes glow yellow shortly before darkening again. Right. Lance should probably buff and shine her armor like he said he was going to. As he looks her over, he also notices that her paint is chipping away in numerous places. “We’re going to be here a while, huh?” Lance asks her, and she purrs in response. 

Her presence in his mind is groggy like she’s been awoken from a nap, and Lance quietly urges her to go back to sleep. He’ll take it from here.

He cracks his knuckles. “Time to get to work.”

Lance works on Blue for roughly four hours, and he’s a bit surprised that Zarkon hasn’t attacked the Castleship in that time frame. Seems like Shiro’s bonding with Black is working.

He wipes his forehead with a damp rag, looking up at Blue proudly. She looks shiny and almost brand new.

I have not felt like this since the day I was built. Thank you.

Lance glows at the praise. “No problem,” He mutters.

He sits down on the ground in front of her, cross-legged and simply stares off into the distance. Lance and Blue silently brainstorm ideas and plans, throwing some back and forth at each other if some seem sound. Despite their best efforts, they can’t think of any solutions that wouldn’t end up causing more problems to fix.

Suddenly, Lance hears his hangar door open, and he looks back, seeing Keith. “Hey, what’s up, man?” He greets and notices that Keith looks troubled about something.

“You have time to talk?” Keith asks sheepishly, and Lance nods, patting the ground beside him. Keith obliges but raises his eyebrows as he does so. “Do you have a thing for sitting on floors?”

Lance simply shrugs. “So what if I do? Anyway, back on topic. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Uh,” Keith begins, then clears his throat. “So, uh–” Keith continues to cut himself off, not sure where to start. His face is starting to flush, and Lance decides to start the convo.

“Is this about how you think Zarkon could be tracking us through you?”

Keith’s eyes widen, and he looks at Lance with a confused expression. Then, he stutters again, his eyes evading Lance’s. “Yeah– yes, that’s–that’s what this is about, totally.”

“What makes you think he imprinted on you?” Lance asks, genuinely curious if Keith really thinks that or if it's because he’s already starting to have thoughts that he’s half-Galra. 

“I–I don’t really know. I just…I guess that’s not the real reason I think that,” Keith answers, and Lance tilts his head. He’s not really sure where Keith is going with this. “Can I show you something, and can you not freak out when I show you?” He asks, and Lance can’t resist the joke.

“As long as it’s not a dick, sure.”

“Lance.”

“Sorry. Yeah, go ahead.”

Keith pulls something that’s covered in bandages out of his jacket pocket, and Lance’s eyes widen. Is Keith really showing him his Blade of Marmora knife?

“So, I found this a while ago on Earth, and I saw a picture of it on Pidge’s computer earlier. I guess that the Galrans who fight against Zarkon have these blades, and this belonged to one of them.” Keith sighs as if he's giving up on lying. Lance can tell. “Actually,” He starts again. “I didn't just find it. My dad said that this belonged to my mom. If that’s true, then she could possibly be…” Keith trails off, looking nervous, and Lance pats him on the shoulder.

“It means you could be half-Galra? You think Zarkon has an eye on every Galra in the universe, dude?”

Keith looks a little embarrassed at Lance’s question, but nods his head. “It’s not completely ridiculous. It was just one of the first things that popped into my mind.”

Lance considers this for a moment. “Well, either way, half-Galra or not, I don’t think Zarkon is tracking you. I don’t think he’s tracking Allura either. I think you both just want to take responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.”

“Huh?”

“I know Zarkon tracking us down through unknown means is freaking everyone out, but let’s be real. You and Allura are very…” Lance is feeling a bit weird saying this. “...self-sacrificial, shall we say.”

Keith stays silent, not knowing how to respond.

“Allura probably wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she knew Zarkon was tracking us through her, and I have a feeling it’s the same for you,” Lance says, and Keith nods, looking a little numb. “Listen, even if Zarkon was tracking either of you, what would you do?” Lance decides to ask, and judging by Keith’s expression, he’s beginning to worry that he may be overwhelming the latter with too many questions.

“I’d leave.”

Lance is saddened by Keith’s answer but isn’t completely surprised.

“But then you guys wouldn’t be able to form Voltron,” Keith says, and Lance shakes his head.

“But then we wouldn’t have you around,” Lance softly corrects, and Keith looks a little shocked by this. 

“I think we’d all agree when I say it’s better that we should all stick together, no matter what,” Lance says, and Keith looks down, interlocking his fingers thoughtfully.

“What about me possibly being half-Galra? What if I had to leave the group then?” Keith argues, and Lance sighs.

“I think everyone would be a little surprised at first, but I also think that they wouldn’t force you to leave over it,” Lance says truthfully.

“What if–”

“Enough of that, dude. Half-Galra or not, you’re still Keith, and you’re still our friend. If Zarkon was tracking you, then we’d find a way to stop it. If he’s tracking Allura, then we’d find a way to stop it. Either way, we can’t let him break this team down.”

Keith gives Lance that look again, and Lance really isn’t sure what else to say. 

Lance stands up, offering Keith a hand. Keith takes it, maintaining eye contact that’s becoming a little too familiar. Lance begins to think he should probably be a little more careful with the way he phrases certain sentences. 

Nevertheless, he ignores the heavy pounding in his chest and drops Keith’s hand, smiling confidently at him. “Why don’t we go see how Shiro’s bonding session with Black is going?”

Keith nods certainly. “Okay.”

After reporting that his bonding session with Black went rather smoothly, Shiro reassures everyone that Zarkon’s bond with Black should be growing weaker. It seems to be common knowledge at this point that the Black Lion was the sole thing Zarkon is tracking. Lance feels relieved at how this played out, but still feels uneasy.

“So should we head over to this base, then?” Pidge points a finger at her computer screen, which still shows the coordinates to the Blade of Marmora base.

Shiro seems to ponder this, still not quite sure. “Princess, what do you think?” He inquires. 

Allura seems thoughtful as well. “I’m not quite sure. On one hand, I want to believe that there are Galra out there who are out to take down Zarkon, but on the other hand, they have also had 10,000 years to do so, and yet, they haven’t.”

“They also haven’t had the help of Voltron, either,” Lance points out, and Allura nods.

“That is true. While I am feeling conflicted and a bit suspicious, I think we should take a chance on this. Is everyone in favor?”

Everyone confirms that they’re certain, with Keith being a bit more excited than usual. Lance briefly wonders if they’re going to find Ulaz’s communications base or the actual Blade of Marmora base. 

He’s going to get a headache if he thinks about all the changes happening to the timeline right now. He probably does need to lie down if there’s a small chance Zarkon will show up again. As much as he believes Shiro’s bond with Black is improving, Lance still has a pit in his stomach that won’t go away, which is telling him that something doesn’t feel right.

Luckily, Shiro is the glowing voice of reason that manages to break through. “Let’s wait just a little longer before heading over. I want to make sure we don’t lead Zarkon to our possible allies in this war. This would be a good opportunity, actually, to get some rest,” Shiro says, giving a pointed look toward Keith and Lance. 

Lance doesn’t feel guilty for spending some quality bonding time with Blue and simply shrugs his shoulders. Keith also doesn’t look particularly sorry for doing whatever he was doing and crosses his arms.

Shiro sighs, looking tired all of a sudden, as if he’s dealing with toddlers. 

“Thank GOD. I’m so tired,” Hunk exclaims suddenly, rubbing his eyes.

Pidge takes off her glasses, wiping off the lenses with her sleeves. “Me too. I feel like I’ve been up for two days straight.”

“Yeah, I’m completely wiped,” Keith comments, and Lance doesn’t say anything, inclining to nod along. Sleeping in a bed does sound really good right now.

Everyone wishes each other a good night and parts ways. 

Lance begins to feel a familiar numbness take hold of him as he makes his way to his room. If so many of these events are happening too quickly, likely, their big battle with Zarkon won’t be far behind. The battle Shiro is supposed to die in.

He doesn’t know what to do. He hates feeling so helpless when he should be the exact opposite. Lance should know what to do. He should be able to save everyone. 

Lance makes it to his room and lets the door close behind him. He slinks over to his bed and collapses onto it face-first. Maybe his brain will feel less scrambled after some sleep. Maybe that’s what he needs.

He smothers his head into his pillow, willing sleep to come to him. 

His dreams weren’t full of flashbacks or nothingness this time. They were full of nightmares.

Nightmares of Shiro dying, Allura dying, everyone dying. 

Lance hasn’t had nightmares in such a long time, so this has caught him off guard. Something’s wrong. 

He gets up from bed and tries to smooth down his clothes, not bothering to change into something new. He runs a hand through his hair as he exits his room, looking down either hallway. Nobody’s out and about.

Lance rushes over to the bridge. He hopes his intuition is wrong, and it sometimes is, but he really hopes it’s wrong this time. 

He makes it in to see Coran looking at the control panel with a confused expression. A giant puddle of sweat has accumulated at his feet, suggesting he’s been in that same position for quite some time, and Lance gets a bad feeling. “Coran? Something wrong?”

Coran jumps at the sound of Lance’s voice and turns around. His eyes are full of confusion and panic, and his voice is too when he speaks. 

“Lance, did Allura and Keith run away together in the past timeline?”

Motherfucker.

Lance stomps his foot in frustration, and Coran takes that as confirmation, putting a hand to his chest. “Tell me. Is this a rebellious phase on the Princess’s part? Has she fallen in love with him?” Coran’s voice sounds very serious, and Lance is on the verge of hysterics at this point. 

“No, at least, not to my knowledge anyway. Have you tried making contact with their escape pod yet?” He asks, and Coran shakes his head.

“No, I only found out a few doboshes ago,” Coran says, and Lance can tell the older Altean is telling the truth. He looks genuinely worried. 

“Let’s call the others then and let them know what’s going on,” Lance says blankly, and Coran nods, coming over the ship’s loudspeaker.

There’s a dark feeling in Lance’s chest that he can’t quite describe. Anger? No, too harsh. Sadness? Nah, too serious to represent what he’s feeling. Disappointment? That’s definitely close to what he’s feeling, but there’s also a tinge of bitterness along with it. It’s a taste he’s dealt with before countless times, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. There’s no way that’s it. He refuses to acknowledge that bitter emotion.

The others rush in one after another, all ruffled and tired and in their pajamas. They look worried, angry, and most of all, exhausted. “What happened this time?” Pidge asks, and Lance motions around them.

“Guess who’s missing?” He asks, his voice hard and bordering on irritated. He may not be feeling very angry at Allura or Keith right now, but he is a little annoyed. Stars forbid he’s actually right about something for once, right? Lance knows deep down that that's not what he's truly bitter about.

“Where are the Princess and Keith?” Shiro asks, his voice firm, and Coran recounts what happened.

“They’re gonna get a stern talking-to when they get back. They totally interrupted my beauty sleep,” Hunk grumbles.

“Have you contacted them yet?” Shiro asks, eyebrows furrowed, and Coran shakes his head.

“I wanted to wait until everyone was present. I’ll call them right now.”

Coran contacts the escape pod, and a collective sigh of relief comes over the room when Allura and Keith pop up on the screen. Lance pointedly looks away, not wanting to hear the same excuses from last time. 

There’s no distress beacon from the Taujeerians this time, considering they weren’t supposed to worry about their planet shedding for at least a couple of days, so Keith and Allura remain on the line for quite a while.

Hunk decides to give the two a stern talking-to now instead of later, and the two apologize, although Lance can tell there’s no real remorse in their tones. He can’t really decide how he’s feeling right now. His mind is racing with so many emotions now that they’re mixing together. Don't say something stupid, don't say something stupid...

“Lance? Do you have something you want to say?” Allura’s voice rings out, and he looks up to see her looking at him expectantly, a frown on her face. Damn it, he understands her reasoning and her feelings about this, but wow. Her words really pissed him off just now.

“I was just going to go lie back down since nothing important is actually happening,” He answers, his voice gritty and harsh, and he turns on his heel to go back to his room. Nobody tries to stop him, and he feels relieved at this, considering he’s on the verge of saying something else he’ll regret later. 

Lance goes to Blue’s hangar and sits down right in front of her. He conveys his frustration to her silently, and he can feel amusement oozing from her, soft and gooey and funny-feeling. 

You seem rather annoyed by this.

“You think?” Lance gripes, crossing his arms grumpily. He feels slightly ashamed for taking it out on Blue, but she has no ill will toward him. Only more amusement, funnily enough, almost enough to make him start laughing. No, maybe that’s hysteria. 

It is okay to feel jealous. It is a perfectly normal emotion to feel.

Lance stops for a second, eyes widening. Jealous?

That bitter feeling he refused to acknowledge earlier, is that what that was? Jealousy? He supposes it fits, but why does it fit? Who exactly is he jealous of?

Lance feels like he knows the answer, but shoves it to the back of his mind, locking it behind a steel door and throwing away the key. 

No. He’s not jealous. He’s not.

Blue only feels sadness now, and Lance decides to ignore why that really is.

Denial does not look good on you, my star.

He's not in denial. He's definitely not.

He's just disappointed, that's all. That's all it can be.

Nothing else.

Chapter Text

Lance is not in denial.

Denial is a defense mechanism he knows well, so well that he knows that this is not what he is feeling right now. It’s definitely not; he knows himself enough to know that this can’t be what he’s feeling. He won’t accept it.

Blue lets out a soft purr, likely meant to comfort him but really doing the opposite. Lance tries to accept her sympathy nonetheless, knowing she only means well. She doesn’t say anything else about him being in denial or feeling jealous, probably because neither of those things are true.

His Lion lets out a sigh this time, letting Lance know that she’s dropping the topic for now but will probably bring it up later. That only brings a sense of dread, and Lance can only hope that the later date is very far in the future. 

Thanks to his nightmares, Lance still feels exhausted, like he’s gotten no sleep at all in the past few days, and he wonders faintly if those nightmares were trying to warn him about something. Since the main theme of those dreams was death, Lance has a feeling that the universe might be trying to tell him something. He doesn’t know what that something is, and the not-knowing part is starting to annoy him.

Lance remains on the floor, his arms still crossed, but he’s really hugging himself, shivering slightly. He hates getting into this kind of slump. It makes him feel cold, numb, and hopeless enough to think the worst of something rather than the best. He can’t stand feeling this way.

He pulls his jacket tighter around himself and brings his knees up to his chest. Lance needs to get his thoughts together. He just can’t figure out how. He doesn’t want to risk writing anything down, nor does he really want to talk to Coran about it anymore. Coran won’t always be there to bounce ideas off of, nor does Lance want to risk changing the timeline any more than he already has. He has no idea how much of the timeline has changed already because of him running his mouth or if that’s even the cause.

Time traveling is so confusing.

Clotho would probably be the safest person, or alien, to talk to about this situation, but he also doesn’t know when he’ll see them next. Would they send him through another wormhole somehow so they could meet up again or what?

He’s so tired of not knowing anything.

“Lance?”

Lance looks over his shoulder, giving a weak smile to whoever’s standing in the doorway, who he quickly discovers is Hunk. Hunk gives a little wave, a nervous smile on his face, like he’s afraid of Lance blowing up at him. Lance feels guilty for making Hunk feel like this and sighs. “Hey, Hunk. Sorry if I worried any of you guys earlier,” He apologizes, and Hunk shakes his head, taking the opportunity to take a few steps forward. 

“Nah, man. I think we’re all pretty frustrated with those two. I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Hunk motions to Lance as he says this, and Lance scoffs.

“I cooled off a little bit…I think. I don’t know, a part of me’s not even mad at them. Just more…worried, I guess.”

Hunk nods and eventually sits down next to Lance. “Your reasons are a bit nobler than mine are, at least,” Hunk says, motioning down to him still in his pajamas, and Lance smiles a bit wider.

“I don’t know, dude. I think losing beauty sleep is a pretty valid reason to be annoyed with them,” Lance plays along, and Hunk lets out a belly laugh this time. 

It’s silent for a moment, and then Hunk gives Lance a more serious look. “Are you sure there are no other emotions besides worry or anger at play here?” Hunk asks earnestly, and Lance wants to, for a split second, tell his best friend the truth about everything. 

About the time traveling, about his emotions he keeps hiding, just everything. But that split second is over in quite literally the blink of an eye, and Lance shakes his head. “I’m sure,” He says unconvincingly, and Hunk raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You sure?” He inquires.

“No,” Lance answers honestly. “I just don’t know how even to begin talking about it. It’s a lot, and I need to get my thoughts sorted first.” He’s shocked by his own candor but finds that just telling Hunk one little truth made him feel better. A very, very small weight has been lifted off his shoulders at this, and his smile becomes a little more genuine. Hunk also notices his change in demeanor and appreciates the small bit of honesty.

“Just let me know. I’m a very good listener,” Hunk reassures kindly and pats Lance on the shoulder.

Lance takes the opportunity to take the attention off himself. “What about you, man? How are you doing? And I don’t just mean the whole Keith and Allura situation, I mean…relatively speaking,” Lance inquires, and Hunk sighs, his shoulders drooping dramatically.

“That’s a difficult question,” Hunk answers, but Lance nudges him gently. Hunk looks down at the ground, contemplating his response. “There’s a lot. I don’t even know where to start if I’m being honest,” Hunk says, and Lance shrugs in response.

“We got plenty of time to talk about it as far as I’m concerned.”

Hunk seems to think about Lance’s words before biting his lip and deciding on what he’s going to say. “I miss Earth. And I miss my parents, and the rest of my family, and my old pet rabbit named Hopkins who ate so much hay, it was kinda concerning to watch,” Hunk starts to ramble, and Lance listens to his best friend’s words, feeling so, so guilty that he took Hunk away from his family, from his whole career that he had built for himself. That whole life, poof, like it never happened. “Some days, I just want to take one of the escape pods and take the trip back to Earth. I know that that’s selfish to say, but…” Hunk takes in a shaky breath. “Sometimes, it’s all I think about; when I get so homesick, I can’t think about anything else.”

“What keeps you from doing it?” Lance asks, genuinely curious and partly wondering if Hunk ever had these kinds of thoughts in the last timeline.

Hunk exhales deeply, giving Lance an unsure look. “A big part of me says that if I just leave, you guys wouldn’t be able to form Voltron, and that would mean Zarkon has a big chance of winning. And if Zarkon wins, Earth is pretty much doomed.”

Lance listens along quietly, taking in Hunk’s words and trying to process them. “And it’s weird,” Hunk begins, his eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to think of the right words to say. “There’s a small part of me that says that everything will be okay. That we’ll make it through this, that we’ll win the war, one way or another.”

“That part of me is so confident about us winning that it’s kinda hard just to ignore it, y’know?” Hunk says, seeming skeptical about his own feelings, and Lance nods.

“Don’t ignore that part of you,” He agrees, not able to muster up any inspirational words to make Hunk feel better. His stomach feels like it’s in knots, and his throat feels dry like he hasn’t had water in days. 

“And there’s something else,” Hunk says, looking down and starting to look flustered. Hunk isn’t one to really blush easily, but his slightly red cheeks and bashful expression will always give him away. Lance resists the urge to smirk. He thinks he knows what this next topic is about. Hunk looks up at him, scratching the back of his neck. “I also really miss Shay. Is that weird? I know I only met her just a little while ago, but still. It feels like I’ve known her forever.”

Lance smiles, trying to ignore the painful thrumming in his chest. He hates this. He hates that he tore them apart from each other only to put them through this painful longing all over again. “No, it’s not weird at all, buddy. Have you asked her on a date yet?” Lance decides to tease, and Hunk splutters, bringing his bandana down his face to cover his eyes. 

“We don’t really have time for that,” He mutters.

Lance shrugs, patting Hunk on the shoulder in a comforting manner. “Well, did you at least give her your number or something to that effect?” Lance may not have the best memory as of late, but he knows that Hunk is capable of making a device that can send messages or voice calls across the universe. It would be a piece of cake. He thinks. 

Hunk sighs, bringing his bandana back up in its normal place. “I gave her this telecommunication device I put together at the last minute,” Hunk says, taking a small ball-shaped piece of tech out of his pocket. It’s smaller than the palm of his hand and has a tiny, green LED light in the middle of it. “But I told her it would be used for emergencies only.”

“Buddy, I’m sure it’d be fine if you used it for non-emergencies, too. She seemed like she really liked you, platonically or not, and it doesn’t hurt to keep in touch,” Lance suggests. Hunk looks at the device in his hand, nodding slightly like he’s trying to convince himself. “Just give her a call, immediately clarify that it’s not an emergency, and go from there,” Lance gives Hunk a rough script to follow, and his friend smiles thankfully.

“Thanks, Lance,” Hunk ruffles Lance’s hair. He gets up from his position, gripping the device with a newfound determination. Lance gets up as well, silently giving Hunk a look of encouragement. Hunk’s eyes seemingly sparkle, and Lance almost laughs. It’s been so long since he’s seen his friend look so…lovesick. 

Hunk waves goodbye and quickly leaves the room, and Lance listens for that click of the door closing. It does, and Lance sinks back down to the floor. How is it possible to feel good about something yet also feel so shitty about it? 

“I wanna marry her, man. That’s how serious I am about this,” Hunk said boldly, and Lance glanced around at the jewelry store they were in, raising an eyebrow in response.

“I could guess that much, pal. But, no offense to Shay, her fingers are pretty big. You think you’re gonna find a ring her size in here?”

Hunk gasped despite Lance’s well-meaning tone. “Her fingers are perfect, just so you know. And,” Hunk took his own look around the room, nodding along to Lance’s question. “I think there’s at least a bracelet in here that’ll fit her finger. Or they could put in a custom order for a bigger ring, I don’t know, man. I’ve never gone ring shopping before,” He said, starting to get a more panicked tone.

Lance raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Okay, okay. Do you have a price range in mind, or…?” 

Hunk shook his head proudly. “Only the best for her.”

Lance resisted the urge to laugh at his friend’s confidence. “Alright. Let’s see what they have, then,” He said, motioning to the store around them. It was around Valentine’s Day, so the store was pretty damn busy. Lance supposed people still proposed quite a bit on Valentine’s Day, and if not that, they at least got their significant other a nice piece of jewelry. However, as Lance looked around the store, he contemplated who exactly would get their partner(s) a tiara. What kind of person would they be?

Once upon a time, Lance had suggested to Allura that he would take her shopping to get her something sparkly, and she actually seemed to really like the idea, but nothing came out of it. She had to stay on the Castleship to rest while he scrounged up some money with Pidge to help buy a gaming system they had back on Earth. 

Despite the change in plans, Lance couldn’t really look back on those moments with resentment. It was more a bittersweet reminiscence if anything. 

Lance smiled lightly as Hunk looked around at the numerous rings they had, mumbling to himself about which gemstone would suit Shay best. After a bit, he turned to Lance. “Any ideas?” He asked, furrowing his brows.

Lance thought on this for a small moment. “I don’t really see Shay wearing a gemstone, at least, not one from Earth anyway. I kinda see her wearing a simple golden band.”

Hunk stood up quickly as he had come to a quick realization. “What if I took just a little piece of crystal from the Balmera so it could be crafted into a ring?”

Lance stayed silent, listening to Hunk’s suggestion.

“I think as long as the Balmera isn’t hurt by the contribution, it should be fine, right? I’d put together a healing ritual if I had to.” The idea did seem plausible, and Hunk seemed really excited about it. However, one thing about Hunk’s statement caught Lance a little off-guard.

“Who would do the healing exactly?” He asked thoughtfully.

Hunk froze, his shoulders drooping. “Oh. Right, that’s–that’s a good question,” He said shakily, and Lance immediately felt bad for even bringing it up.

“Maybe we can ask Coran or Romelle about it tomorrow,” Lance decided, and Hunk looked up, confusion in his eyes.

“Tomorrow?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. Tomorrow, we’ll take the trip to New Altea and see if there’s any kind of healing ritual they could do for small instances like this. You said you only wanted to take a little bit of crystal, right? Just enough to make a ring?”

Hunk hummed back in response.

“Sooo… we’ll go to New Altea, talk to them and see what they have to say, and then go see about retrieving some crystal, alright?” Lance suggested, and Hunk seemed to like that, nodding more rigorously again. Then he stopped as if he had just remembered something.

“Are you okay with being away from Earth for that long? It’ll probably be at least a week-long trip, and that’s only if Coran lets us borrow one of their fancy Altean ships.”

Lance laughed, waving his hands dismissively. “You underestimate how much Coran likes us. He’ll let us borrow a ship and probably give us sack lunches to go with it. And I could use a break from the farm, anyway. It gets a little dreary there sometimes.”

Hunk nodded. “Alright.”

Lance smiled. “Let’s get going, then.”

Damn, remembering that memory just now did not do any favors for Lance’s heart. It just made him feel worse.

Blue lets out a tired purr but doesn’t put any of her thoughts or feelings into actual words. It just feels like exhaustion and regret rolled into one. 

Lance rests his chin in his hand, contemplating the numerous changes in the timeline. Maybe he just needs to stop thinking about it and go with the flow until he really needs to intervene. It sounds like it would work in some aspects, but Lance also knows that it likely won’t work out in the long run, not when he knows so much.

Why not go see how the rest of your friends are doing? I need some rest, and you having an internal crisis is not helping matters.

Blue’s tone is joking and not at all serious, but there is a smidge of urgency in her voice, which makes Lance prone to agree with her suggestion. He reluctantly gets up from the floor, dusting off his clothes a bit as he stands. He walks over and pats Blue on the paw, smiling faintly at the warm feeling she’s sending his way. 

“Thanks for sitting with me, Blue. Even though you basically didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Lance shrugs, and he hears Blue chuckle back in response, her laughter reverberating around his skull like an echo.

Even if I did have a choice, I would have gladly sat here with you.

Blue’s voice is drowsy, and Lance feels bad for keeping her up. He turns on his heel and waves goodbye to her over his shoulder. “Talk to you later,” He says quietly, and Blue’s presence finally goes quiet. 

However, if Lance listens closely enough, he can still make out her very faint snoring.

He exits through the hangar door and walks down the hallway, wondering which friend he should try pestering first. He just talked to Hunk, who should be talking to Shay right about now. Pidge, Shiro, and Coran are the only three options left, but Lance is assuming that they’re still on the bridge, trying to talk Allura and Keith into coming back to the Castleship.

If Lance weren’t so full of blistering rage towards both of them at the moment, he would have gladly joined the rest of his friends in talking to the two of them. Although seeing how his emotions can’t seem to control themselves as of late leaves Lance with no one else to bother. He looks down the hallway leading toward the bridge and raises an eyebrow. 

Lance doesn’t think it’s a good idea to go back, especially with the way his mind is acting against his will. He doesn’t want to say things he doesn’t mean.

Keith and Allura's leaving is a very important thing, and Lance brushed it off as the opposite because he was angry, because he had grown bitter. He’s not going to acknowledge why he’s bitter exactly, but he can at least put a name to that particular feeling.

He turns and walks in the opposite direction, heading to his room instead. Trying to convince Keith and Allura to come back would be the blatantly correct choice, but Lance doesn’t think anything he could say would convince them. They’re both stubborn like that, irritably so, that it leaves Lance regretting all of his life choices.

They likely wouldn’t come back unless someone were in grave danger, and–

Wait.

Lance shakes his head, clearing that intrusive thought from his head. No. He can’t be thinking like that. That’s manipulative and wrong and messed up on so many levels. He won’t even put it into words.

He eventually makes it to his room and enters, listening to the door shut behind him. He plops himself onto his bed face-first and closes his eyes, wanting sleep to take over.

Lance should be talking to the rest of his friends, not sleeping, but he can’t seem to find the energy right now. He’s tired, so tired that he can’t find the strength to get up from his bed. 

Just as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, he hears a sharp, loud knock at his door that jolts through his body, and he promptly falls off his bed. “Ow,” He says quietly, rubbing his back, and looks up at his bedroom door. “Come in,” Lance greets, trying to keep the bass out of his voice. 

Shiro enters the room, looking down at Lance with an amused expression. “Was I interrupting? Sorry,” Shiro apologizes, but the apology doesn’t sound sincere in the slightest. The older man crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow as Lance finds the strength to stand up.

“Nope. Nothing important, anyway,” Lance answers, avoiding Shiro’s eyes.

He hears a sigh and looks up to see Shiro sitting down on Lance’s bed. Lance is confused by this but sits down beside the man anyway. “Is everything alright lately, Lance? You seem a bit on edge,” Shiro inquires, and Lance shakes his head.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just… I guess I’m worried.”

“About?”

“Everything. It’s like, one thing finally starts to go right, and what do you know, another thing goes wrong. There’s no end to it; it’s like a constant cycle,” Lance finds himself saying without thinking, and is surprised by the sudden honesty.

Shiro nods knowingly. “Yeah, it gets kind of frustrating after a while, huh?”

Lance gives Shiro an affirming look, and the older man sighs again. “I know the past few weeks have been hard on all of you, and I’m sorry you kids had to get dragged into this thing.”

Lance doesn’t understand why Shiro is apologizing all of a sudden and gives Shiro a questioning look. Shiro looks sheepish and glances down. “I’ve been talking to the others about all this, trying to see where their minds are at and all, and I’ve been giving everyone the same speech, pretty much.”

Shiro rubs the back of his neck, looking guilty at his choice of words. “Adam is so much better at this kind of stuff than I am,” He mutters.

“Talking about feelings?” Lance says, and Shiro looks iffy, like what Lance said is true, but it’s not what Shiro is trying to say.

“He’s better about reassuring people, inspiring hope, and all that. Try as I might, I can’t put my thoughts into words as eloquently as he can,” Shiro corrects, and his mood seems to have dampened at the thought of his husband. 

Another jolt through Lance’s heart darkens his mood as well, but he doesn’t let it show. “I think you do an alright job. What matters is that you care enough to try. I’m sure you’ll get better at it as time goes on,” Lance reassures, and Shiro smiles, shaking his head.

“How did you end up being the one to cheer me up?”

Lance shrugs. “I have that effect on people,” He says proudly. 

Shiro pats Lance on the shoulder, his expression twisted up like he’s trying to think of a question. “Is there something going on with you and Keith? You seemed angrier than I expected you to be earlier,” Shiro finally asks, and his eyes seem to be sparkling with something that Lance can only describe as curiosity. 

Lance shakes his head, ignoring another jolt going through his heart. He’ll give the same answer he gave Hunk earlier. “It’s more worry than anger,” He says carefully. “It’s the fact that they didn’t tell anyone they were leaving that really bothers me,” Lance says, and Shiro seems to agree. “I’m sure we could have worked out some plan where it would’ve been a lot safer for everyone, but no. Both of them are too stubborn and selfless to wait that long.”

Shiro looks entertained by Lance’s choice of words, and Lance curses himself for rambling. “Anyway,” Lance averts his eyes. “I’m not really that angry with them.”I’m angrier with myself for feeling this way. I’m directing that rage from myself to others. “Just worried.”

Shiro still doesn’t look completely convinced, but he does sense some honesty in Lance’s words and leaves it at that. “I recommend you let them know that, then. I think you could probably convince them to come back. You do have a way with words, especially with Keith.”

Lance raises an eyebrow, confused by the connotations. Shiro backtracks, waving his hands in front of him. “I mean–I– What I meant to say is that you and Keith are pretty close, right?”

“Yeah, we’re best buddies.”

Shiro’s eye twitches, and Lance wonders briefly if Shiro is tired. No. He can’t keep acting ignorant. Something about what Lance said seemed to pick at Shiro, but he doesn’t want to interrogate him. He likely won’t appreciate the results. 

“Right,” Shiro says, voice somewhat stiff. “So, as I said, Keith probably has more reason to listen to you.”

Lance doesn’t buy that for a second and knows that Keith will likely brush him off. Keith’s mind is going to be all scrambled at this point. From him wondering if he’s part-Galra to the general worry that being in a space war will mess anyone’s mind up. It’s already messed up Lance’s, and he’s been through this before.

He shrugs, not really convinced. “Yeah, but you’re his brother. ” He argues.

“I’m sorry, do you listen to your big brothers all the time?” Shiro asks, and Lance is surprised by Shiro’s logic and the actual fact that he’s right.

“Not all the time,” Lance answers sheepishly, and Shiro nods.

“Exactly. How often do you listen to your friends?”

Okay, Lance does not like being proved wrong, but he has to admit that Shiro has some good points. “I listen to my friends significantly more than I listen to my brothers, but I don’t always listen to what my friends have to say,” Lance lies through his teeth, and Shiro sees right through that, giving an unimpressed expression. 

“Go talk to him. I’ll owe you a favor if I’m wrong,” Shiro says finally, and Lance sighs.

“Fine. You'd better consider what you’re getting yourself into, then,” Lance threatens kindly, and Shiro seems glad by this turn of events.

“I have considered it plenty. Now go.”

Shiro and Lance walk out of his room, and Shiro gives him a thumbs-up. “Go get ‘em, slugger. Bring ‘em home.”

Lance watches Shiro march away with a pep in his step and ponders if this was Shiro’s plan all along.

Shiro does make really good plans.

Lance turns and walks in the direction of the bridge, cursing Shiro on his way there. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say or do. All he knows is that this isn’t going to work. 

He enters the bridge room, feeling a deafening jolt in his heart at what’s put up on the big screen. 

No one else is in the bridge, and Keith and Allura haven’t noticed that Lance is there yet. He walks forward cautiously, looking at the screen with an unidentified emotion. 

Lance doesn’t want to acknowledge the feeling in his chest when he looks up at them. Allura is fast asleep, and her head is resting on Keith’s shoulder, who seems to be dozing off as well. Keith’s eyes are fluttering as if he’s trying to fight sleep, but his head appears to be resting against Allura's. 

Oh.

Lance, being the difficult person he is, does not leave the room like he so desperately wants to. He decides to pull up a chair, snagging an untouched cup of tea that Coran looks to have left for him. He drinks a little, relieved at actually having the time to find the words to say. Sure, he could pretend he talked to Keith and ended up getting blown off, resulting in Shiro owing him a favor, but that goes against who Lance is, which sounds very Hallmark-y when he puts it that way. Plus, Keith would probably snitch when he gets back.

The cup of tea is cold, but it still soothes Lance’s dry throat as he tries pointedly not to stare at the two of his friends freaking cuddling right in front of him on what looks to be a 100-inch screen, which seems so much bigger when he tries not to look at it. This is going to be really awkward when they wake up.

Lance sips at his tea, being as quiet as possible so as not to wake both of them. He has an idea of what he wants to say to Keith specifically, but not to Allura. Despite their talk a few short days ago, he still can’t conjure up any actual, convincing statements to say to her to make her want to come back. Keith is a bit of a tricky case, but he’s also easier to talk to, which hopefully works out in Lance’s favor.

“Lance?”

Lance looks up at the screen to see a very awake Keith, whose hair has been ruffled wildly. He looks…

He doesn’t finish that thought and promptly smiles.“Y’know, if you wanted some alone time with the Princess, you could have just told us that, Mullet,” Lance teases, and Keith’s cheeks turn a slight red like he’s embarrassed by the insinuation.

“That’s not–”

“I know.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Lance patiently waits for Keith to say the first word to end the silence. That first word doesn’t come, and Lance looks up to see Keith just staring down at him from the other side of the screen. He looks conflicted and guilty, and so many other emotions Lance can’t put a name to. 

“Is this whole running-away scheme about what we talked about yesterday?” Lance asks genuinely. He already knows the answer.

“Yes, and it also involves some of Allura’s concerns as well,” Keith answers honestly.

Lance nods. “She thinks she’s the one being tracked by Zarkon, right?”

Allura remains asleep, but Lance keeps an eye on her movements just in case she does wake up.

“Yeah, and that’s kinda my problem, too. We just wanted to make sure–”

“Keith, I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want to hear your excuses. I get it. I just wish you would let us know what was happening before you and the Princess just took off in the middle of the night,” Lance tries to reassure, and Keith’s tense shoulders seem to droop a bit.

“You guys would’ve stopped us,” Keith excuses anyway. 

“We sure would have, and for good reason too,” Lance crosses his arms at this.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Good reason?”

“You two probably didn’t think your plan through. How long would you guys have floated in space before eventually coming back if Zarkon hadn’t found either of us yet? Days? Weeks? I don’t want to sound drastic enough to say months, but–”

“I don’t know,” Keith answers, looking down at the steering wheel of the pod he’s in.

“Exactly. If you guys have plans like this, at least run it by one of us first. If we can’t stop you, we can at least make sure you guys are safe, y’know?” Lance knows he’s probably lecturing at this point, but he doesn’t care. It seems to be working. 

“Okay,” Keith says, his tone resigned as if he’s getting scolded.

Lance takes that as his own cue to apologize. “I’m sorry for snapping at you guys earlier. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“I’m sorry for leaving without telling you.”

Lance wasn’t expecting an apology in response to his own but finds that he doesn’t mind it. 

“Water under the bridge, right?” Lance reassures, and Keith nods, his signature smile coming back to his face. Lance finds he greatly prefers that expression to the kicked-puppy look Keith was sporting a few moments ago. “So, what’s your plan exactly?” Lance decides to ask. He didn’t expect any of what he just said to actually convince Keith to come back, but he hopes at least some of it will stick. 

Keith gives a sure nod. “We’re on our way back.”

Suddenly, the video feed cuts off, and Lance blinks.

“I wasn’t expecting that to really work,” He mumbles to himself, sipping the last of his tea out of his mug. Wait. Didn’t Pidge put boosters on the escape pod that also pretty much acted as a bomb button?

An alert suddenly rings through the Castle that the Red Lion has left the hangar, and Lance smiles.

Well, that's one way to bring 'em back.

Chapter Text

Allura was not a happy camper when she got back to the Castleship. She wasn’t exactly angry or disappointed, but she carried a tense air of don’t even think of talking to me right now around her like a blanket. Keith looked like he had been presumably chewed out, probably for blowing up the pod they left in, and looked glaringly guilty as he apologized to everyone for leaving. Allura gave her apologies, too, but they didn’t sound nearly as sincere as Keith’s did. However, after Pidge pointed out how far Keith and Red’s connection reached, the Princess was more inclined to agree with their earlier theory of the Black Lion. 

Her expression had cooled, and she apologized again, her voice taking on a gentler tone. 

All was forgiven, and everyone headed back to the bridge to devise their next plan: the base in the Ciladathon system, which Lance assumed to be the Blade of Marmora. It seemed too big to be just a simple communications base, but Lance still found it odd that the coordinates of the main base would be in Shiro’s arm.

“I suggest we wait a bit longer before heading to this base,” Coran says suddenly, and everyone looks at him questioningly.

“Any particular reason why?” Pidge speaks up, and Coran wipes some sweat from his forehead.

“Well, for one, after the events of our previous battles with Zarkon, the ship’s scaultrite lenses are on the fritz, and we’ll need to acquire new ones if we want to keep the ability to wormhole,” Coran answers matter-of-factly, and Pidge squints her eyes as if remembering something. 

“I think I remember Hunk making some awful cookies with scaultrite,” She recalls, and Hunk pouts his lip out, looking very offended at Pidge’s choice of words.

“Hey,” He rebukes. “They weren’t that bad.”

Pidge raises an eyebrow. “It sounded like you were chewing on glass,” She says matter-of-factly, and Hunk shakes his head, looking clearly done with the conversation.

“That sounds like scaultrite, alright,” Coran says, looking hopeful. “Are there any more?”

Hunk nods his head. “Yeah, I’ll go get them,” He says and starts heading towards the kitchen.

Coran starts walking away as well, in the opposite direction. “Go ahead and bring them to the Teledauv. Pidge, will you join me, please?” Coran asks, and Pidge follows suit without complaint, and to her credit, she resists the urge to comment on Coran’s case of the slipperies. He looks very appreciative of this and promptly slides down the hallway, leaving Pidge to walk cautiously beside the snail trail he left behind.

Shiro claps his hands together, not really pleased with this turn of events, but a little relieved that they have the beginnings of a plan brewed up. “Princess, where exactly would we go to obtain new scaultrite lenses? I doubt the Castle can rely on Hunk’s cookies to wormhole everywhere,” Shiro inquires, and Lance decides to tune this conversation out. It’s back to familiar territory, words that were heard before that leave him feeling a little better about the situation. 

Lance sits back in a chair, feeling slightly exhausted. He feels like he’s barely done anything, yet his muscles are on the verge of trembling with fatigue. Lance almost feels like he’s fighting sleep at this point and rubs his eyes, trying to stave it off. He knows he can’t do this forever and will eventually have to indulge in more than the average amount of sleep a normal person needs. Still, he doesn’t quite know how to explain that to any of the others without coming off as either lazy or sleep-deprived. 

The thought of this makes Lance even more tired, and he stretches his neck, trying to look at least a little invested in Shiro and Allura’s plan. They look deep in thought and bounce ideas off of each other about where they could start once the Castleship is back in perfect working condition. 

He notices Keith bring up a chair beside him and spares him a glance. Keith looks thoughtful and possibly a bit frustrated with himself. He’s glaring at the floor with an angry expression, and his fists are clenched tight. Lance thinks about making a joke to ease the tension, but decides against it. While he and Keith haven’t necessarily gotten into any fistfights in this timeline, Lance certainly doesn’t want to start now. Keith looks just a tad too edgy right now, and Lance knows why that is, but decides to mention it at another time when there aren’t others present.

Lance nudges Keith, silently giving him a questioning look. Keith shrugs in response, the grumpy expression still on his face. Keith’s trying to play as indifferent, but he’s obviously worried about something. 

Before Lance can ask anything else, Coran announces from the Teledauv that he needs help keeping the scaultrite lenses in place, and Lance stands up, ready to do something that doesn’t involve sitting down. 

Allura remains on the bridge while the others head down to the Teledauv. Lance is already dreading hanging from the ceiling again, but that’s nothing compared to the other stuff he has to look forward to. He supposes the one good thing that comes up after this would be going to the Space Mall. It’d be a nice change of pace and something that keeps everyone’s spirits up.

They get to the Teledauv and hold the scaultrite lenses in place while Allura wormholes to the Space Mall. The team makes it back to the bridge to discuss a plan, and Coran suggests that everyone should dress up as space pirates.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Lance interjects, and Coran raises an eyebrow. “It has been 10,000 years since you’ve been on the Swap Moon, don’t you think things might’ve changed since then?” Lance suggests, and Coran gains a look of realization on his face. 

“I suppose that you would be right,” Coran says quietly, and Lance immediately feels bad for bringing up the whole ‘10,000 years’ thing. That probably wasn’t called for.

“However,” Lance starts, and Coran looks back at him hopefully. “It likely wouldn’t hurt if one of us dressed up as one, y’know, just in case?” Lance hints, and Coran immediately brightens up, his eyes twinkling. 

“Can I go too?” Allura asks, pulling out her best puppy-dog eyes as she asks for Coran’s permission. Lance feels that nothing bad would particularly happen if Allura were to come along this time, but still, Lance thinks there might be something wrong with this whole situation. Coran hums thoughtfully, considering his options. 

“I’ll take you shopping for something sparkly.”

Ah. That. 

Lance sneaks a glance between Allura and Keith, wondering if he can make an opportunity out of this. That bitter, stinging feeling that he felt before is gone now, replaced by a newfound determination. He hopes that feeling stays gone for a while, if it doesn’t disappear entirely. 

“I do not want you alone down there. What if something bad happens and no one is around to help you?” Coran inquires worriedly. 

There it is. Lance makes a mental note to thank Coran later and pats Keith on the shoulder. “Why don’t you have Keith here escort you around? He’s pretty scary,” He says lightheartedly, and Allura obviously seems pleased with the idea. Keith, as expected, looks a bit surprised by this turn of events and is giving Lance a weird look.

Coran shrugs. “Then why not?”

His doubts about the Swap Moon have seemingly disappeared once he notices Lance’s demeanor, and he has changed his tune. “Just try to stay close to the exit in case something happens,” Coran says strictly, and Allura nods happily. 

“Meanwhile, I’ll stick with these three in case they get into trouble,” Shiro announces, nodding over at Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. 

Lance surmises that Shiro probably wouldn’t let him and Pidge steal money out of the Mall fountain this time and tries to hide his disappointment. “It feels like we’re going on a field trip,” Hunk mentions, his expression a bit happier than normal.

“Maybe you could buy Shay something sparkly?” Lance encourages, and Hunk begins to blush.

“Yeah, maybe…” He trails off as he starts to look deep in thought. 

Pidge smiles cheekily, muttering something to Hunk that only he can hear, causing him to blush even more and pull his headband over his eyes. Shiro chuckles, his eyes softening as he recalls something, or more accurately, someone.

“Sounds fun. Maybe I can buy something for Adam, too.”

When everyone gets to the mall, they all immediately scatter in different directions, leaving Lance straggling behind as he tries to keep up with at least one of his friends. However, the crowd is much denser than he remembered it being, causing him to lose sight of any of his friends. 

“Well, this is great,” He grumbles to himself, brushing invisible dust off his jacket. So much for a fun day at the mall, huh? 

Lance humorously contemplates searching for the help desk and announcing his disappearance, but shuts that thought down. Maybe just a few brief moments of solitude are what he needs to recharge for a moment. If he’s lucky, this Space Mall might have a spa to relax at until Coran finds the scaultrite lenses.

He walks through the mall, trying to examine the many storefronts as he walks by. Nothing really strikes his fancy besides a bakery that gives off a sweet, warm smell that leaves Lance feeling homesick. A few moments in the bakery wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Lance enters, looking around at the various tables seated with people and topped high with desserts that don’t look half-bad. He wills his stomach not to growl and walks towards the counter, looking at the display case filled with so many different sweets that it almost makes his head spin.

He feels a sudden tap on his shoulder and turns around swiftly, stopping suddenly when he sees who it is. 

“Clotho?” He says, feeling stunned at their sudden appearance. 

Their golden eyes gaze back at him, and Lance finally takes a moment to look at what they’re wearing. “A trench coat and a fedora? Really?” He says observantly, slightly unimpressed with what he guesses to be a half-assed disguise. 

They shrug mildly. “It worked in most of those movies on your planet, so I figured it would do for the time being.”

“How many movies of ours have you watched exactly?”

“Unimportant. I had the feeling you wanted to speak with me?”

Lance stops short, a little caught off-guard as he remembers where he’s at. “Uh, yeah, but I didn’t figure you would show up here of all places,” He comments, and Clotho raises an eyebrow. 

“Location does not matter. Come, let us sit and talk.”

Clotho nods over to a free table in a corner that’s a bit more secluded compared to the rest of the bakery. He sits down, taking a moment to glance out the window at the rest of the mall. None of his friends seem to be looking for him at the moment, and Lance can’t help feeling both a little relieved and sad at this revelation. 

“So, would you like to engage in small talk, or should we get right down to it?” Clotho’s voice is attempting to be business-like, but there’s a tinge of worry that Lance can’t help but notice. 

“That’s the thing,” Lance starts, intertwining his fingers nervously. “I am confused, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t know why.”

“You seem a bit jumpy,” Clotho notices. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“On the contrary, actually. I think I’ve been getting too much sleep. And I had this weird nightmare the other day…it’s all so weird.”

“I appear to be the only person you feel comfortable talking to like this at the moment, so please, feel free to vent.”

Lance obliges, and wow. Venting to someone like this really does make him feel just a tad bit better. Someone who knows his circumstances but doesn’t really care about him to the degree of being too worried. 

He tells Clotho of his nightmare, his occasional sleepwalking, and his anxiety attack. They listen carefully, staying silent until he’s done talking. They appear to think about his words before determining their response. “Would you like some advice, or would you like to figure it out yourself?”

Lance tilts his head at this. Figure it out himself? What does that mean? This kind of stuff can be figured out on your own?

“Think about all of your symptoms and what triggered them. What do you think is the main cause of this? I will give you a hint: the answer is not simply ‘time travel’.”

Lance is silent, thinking deeply about it. Sleepwalking. His occasional irritability. Nightmares. Flashbacks. Anxiety attacks. 

He has a feeling he knows what this is, but can’t say it out loud. His body won’t let him. Lance gives Clotho a pitiful look, and they sigh, their eyes filled with sympathy.

“I am no doctor, but I believe you may be suffering from PTSD.”

PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Something he never even considered having, ever. Not even in the past timeline did he ever even think about it. Although he does know one friend who for sure has it, at least to his knowledge. Shiro.

He’s seen the effects of it on his friend once upon a time. It was maybe a few weeks after Allura’s death, and all of the former paladins had a meeting to decide what would be done. Lance faintly remembers blanking out the whole conversation, but one distinct memory of his had been Shiro suddenly collapsing on the floor, holding a robotic arm to his chest as he tried to slow his breathing. He was muttering and hyperventilating, and his mind was somewhere else, somewhere in the past. 

Everyone had done their best to help, told Shiro to take deep breaths, drink water, and count to one hundred, but none of those things helped him get better. He eventually passed out from hyperventilation, and the rest of that day is a blur in his mind. 

“PTSD affects everyone differently,” Clotho says, attempting to be helpful but really being the opposite of that. Was that supposed to make him feel better?

He feels annoyance flare up in his chest suddenly and quickly squashes it down. No. Clotho isn’t the person he should be angry at. Perhaps this anger he’s feeling is towards himself. 

“I apologize for saying this out of the blue. I did not consider the possibility of it putting you in a downward spiral,” Clotho apologizes, their tone sincere, and that anger he was feeling before slowly dissipates.

“No, it’s okay. I guess it makes sense,” Lance says, inwardly wincing at how detached his voice sounds. 

“So, I am going to suggest we switch topics so as to prevent the possibility of you crying.”

Lance scoffs at this. “I’m not going to cry. It’s just– it’s just a lot to process, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting you to come right out and say it,” He says truthfully, clearing his throat. Nope. That totally wasn’t a lump in his throat just now. No way, no sirree. 

Clotho smiles knowingly, and Lance ponders briefly if they can read minds before just shaking that thought off. Lance finds that he prefers the mystery of it. It’s a bit more dramatic that way. 

“I do have a small gift from you, from one acquaintance to another,” Clotho says calmly, and Lance is confused.

“It’s okay, I don’t need anything,” He rushes to reassure, but Clotho shakes their head, placing a bag the size of Lance’s head on the table. It makes a jangling sound, and Lance quickly recognizes it to be the distinct sound of GAC. 

“Why don’t you buy yourself something sparkly?” Clotho suggests, their tone teasing, and Lance feels a bit embarrassed at the constant reminder. He manages a small thank-you, and Clotho shakes their head, clearly not wanting to accept thanks. 

He stands up from the table, watching Clotho as they stand themself. They adjust their fedora elegantly and fiddle with the buttons of their trench coat. A small thought comes to Lance’s mind, and he just decides to ask. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Would you like to go see Coran? I’m sure he’s still struggling to find that Unilu shop,” Lance suggests, and Clotho gets a weird look on their face like they ate something bad.

“Perhaps another time. I have more important matters to attend to at the moment. Until next time.”

And with that, Clotho vanishes into a cloud of golden glitter, and Lance simply blinks. He loves his dramatics as much as the next person, but that line literally seemed like it was straight out of a movie. 

And also, they went back on the promise they made on Zestrora about seeing Coran. Maybe their schedule is just busy?

He pushes both chairs in, deciding to take another glance out of the bakery window, and pauses at what he sees. 

Keith and Allura walk side-by-side, Allura holding a shopping bag and talking animatedly while Keith listens, nodding his head to each important word coming from her mouth. 

That stinging feeling is crawling its way back, but once again, forces it back down into the depths. He doesn’t want to feel that. He can’t feel that. It’ll just make whatever he’s going through even worse, and he can’t manage that right now. It doesn’t seem plausible. 

Lance contemplates just waiting for them to pass by, but that plan is quickly diminished when he notices the rest of the team following behind. He decides begrudgingly that now is as good a time as any to reunite with everyone and leaves the bakery, cursing himself for not buying anything. 

“Lance! Where’d you go? I wanted your opinion on what to buy for Shay,” Hunk complains when he sees Lance again and smiles.

“Let me guess, you couldn’t decide, so you bought them all?”

“Almost,” Shiro butts in. “I have no doubt that if I weren’t there, he would’ve walked away with the entire shop.”

Lance feels the weight of the GAC bag in his jacket pocket grow heavier, and he decides to ask another question. “Where’d you find the money for that?” He inquires, and Shiro has the decency to look just slightly ashamed. 

Pidge adjusts her glasses. “We went through, like, three water fountains searching for these,” She says, holding up a GAC coin, and Lance feels a momentary loss of that memory he once shared with Pidge. However, looking at the varying expressions of satisfaction, happiness, and nervousness, Lance decides that the loss of that memory was likely replaced with a better one, and he can’t find it in himself to stay sad about it. 

He looks down and notices that the bottoms of their pants are still rolled up, and he resists the urge to laugh. Imagining Shiro rooting through the water fountain alongside Hunk and Pidge would have been quite a sight to see. 

“So, where’d you go?” Pidge asks, looking Lance up and down.

He shrugs. “Well, after you guys left me, ” He drags out those last words dramatically. “I wandered into that bakery and chilled for a little while.”

Shiro does look a bit apologetic at this and pats Lance on the shoulder. “It won’t happen again,” He says reassuringly. 

Lance avoids looking at Keith and Allura a few feet away, and looks around the rest of the group. “Still no Coran?” He asks, and they shake their heads.

“Nope. After we stopped by that jewelry store, we’ve been looking for any Unilu shops Coran had been talking about, but no dice,” Pidge shakes her head. 

He hums, trying to think. Keith and Allura finally seem to realize that the rest of the group is walking behind them, and they stop in their tracks, waiting for them to catch up. “How long have you guys been there?” Keith asks, his tone cautious.

“Long enough to see you buying something for–” Pidge’s mouth is immediately covered by Hunk’s hand, and Shiro gives her a warning glare.

Allura laughs behind her hand, and Keith looks betrayed by her reaction. Lance wants to remain engaged in this conversation; he really does, but something about the feeling of this interaction gives him an odd feeling. He…feels like he’s being watched.

He gives a good look around him and immediately notices a dreadfully familiar Galra on a hoverbike. He’s peeking around a corner, obviously not knowing that he’s been spotted yet, and Lance turns back to his friends.

“We have eyes on us,” He says conversationally, and Shiro’s eyebrows narrow.

“Who?”

“Mall cop behind me, peeking around the corner,” He answers, and Shiro manages to make his observance subtle.

“Alright,” Shiro begins. “I know this completely goes against what I said earlier, but we are all going to go in separate directions, capiche? We’ll meet back up at the water fountain at the entrance in five minutes, alright?”

The plan seems a bit risky but still solid, and everyone starts going in different directions. Lance has half a mind to walk up to the mall cop himself and rip him a new one, but that wouldn’t be taken very well. 

Lance searches for the Earth store while he still has time. While he doesn’t exactly want the game console as much anymore this time around, he can’t just leave Kaltenecker behind. That’s pure betrayal, through and through. 

It doesn’t take him long to find it, and he walks into the shop, looking around at the various things the store carries. Kaltenecker lets out a loud moo at the sight of him, and Lance finds it funny that the cow would be one of the only ones to remember. 

He turns to the shopkeeper, who’s giving him an odd look, and points to Kaltenecker. “How much for the cow?” He asks, pulling out his bag of GAC.

The shopkeeper stumbles over his words. “Uh, you can only get Kaltenecker if you purchase something. The cow itself is not for sale.”

Lance finds that business practice is completely backward, but tolerates it, deciding it would be a good time to look around. 

The Earth shop contains many materials from Earth, including books, rocks, and even clothes. There’s also the Mercury Gameflux II, but Lance doesn’t want to buy it. He didn’t work for it this time. 

He looks through the clothing section and stops briefly at the name on a familiar-looking blue jacket. It’s covered in NASA patches and has a few ink splotches on the sleeves, but the one thing that stands out to Lance is the name on the back of it. It reads, McClain.

His dad’s jacket. The jacket that went missing back when Lance had just turned five. His dad had been upset, claiming that his favorite jacket had gone missing, but Lance didn’t think that this place would be where it ended up. 

“I want this,” Lance says suddenly, examining the jacket as if it were a treasure, and truthfully, it kind of was. “How much?”

The shopkeeper looks slightly surprised at his choice but rings it in anyway. It costs practically nothing compared to what Lance feels it’s worth, and he hugs it tighter to himself. The shopkeeper offers him a bag to put it in, and Lance graciously takes it. If that mall cop is going to chase him again, he wants to ensure that this jacket stays safe. 

As expected, Kaltenecker is offered free with purchase, and Lance pulls her and her floating display out of the store without difficulty. She seems just as happy to see him as he is to see her. 

“You! Stop right there!” A grating voice yells, and Lance rolls his eyes before giving Kaltenecker a hearty push and hopping on top of her. The floating display carries them past so many stores, and Lance wonders a little too late if everyone’s going to fit up here. 

“I did not think this through,” He mumbles to himself, and Kaltenecker moos in response. Great talk.

He eventually sees the rest of the group ahead, all appearing to have just met up by the fountain, and he calls out a warning to them. They all turn to look at him and show varying expressions of surprise at the appearance of Kaltenecker. He encourages everyone to hop on, and surprisingly, everyone seems to fit, and that only seems to be because everyone is squashed so tightly against one another.

“Sorry,” He hears Keith apologize from behind him, and Lance ignores whatever feelings are coming back up again.

“Coran’s still not here?” He asks, and everyone answers negatively. 

Just as he turns around, he notices the older Altean from a distance, staring at them with a dazed look on his face. “We gotta go!” Keith yells at him, and Coran steps into action, sprinting after the cow at a very surprising speed. He carries the bag in his hands delicately while he does this, and everyone tries to make room for him. 

Coran manages to hop onto the floating display Kaltenecker is on, and there is a collective sigh of relief. 

“Get back here, you space pirates! You won’t get away from me this time!”

“This time?” Pidge mutters, and Lance feels his blood run cold. The fucking mall cop, of all people, remembers?

Lance looks behind, watching as the mall cop seems to have given up on the chase. He feels victory at this until he turns his head back to the front and is promptly whacked in the face by a tall alien with a giant hat.

The impact knocks him off Kaltenecker, and he winces as his head hits the ground.

 Hard.

He isn't exactly surprised when his vision fades to black and welcomes the sleep that comes to him.

Chapter Text

“Honey, it’s just a jacket. Can’t you order another one?” Lance’s mother asked, her tone exasperated as she watched her husband throw couch cushions around the living room. His method of throwing things wasn’t malicious or forceful in any way, but he was still making a giant mess.

“It’s not just a jacket, sweetums. There are important things in that jacket, important memories that I can’t just replace,” Lance’s dad argued.

His wife gently sighed, slightly exhausted and also a bit worried. “You weren’t carrying a whole bunch of money in there, were you?” 

He shook his head. “No, nothing financially important. Just…” He trailed off, searching for the right words to say to describe what he was missing. “They were important to me.”

Lance’s mother crossed her arms, tilting her head as if waiting for her husband to elaborate. He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead as if to try to stave off a headache. “There were pictures and–and other stuff,” Lance’s father stuttered, and his wife raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff?”

“Mm-hmm,” He nodded his head quickly, avoiding his wife’s eyes. 

Lance was watching this whole interaction from the kitchen table, staring at his father’s flustered expression. Lance could clearly see his father was embarrassed and ashamed about something, but he was trying to figure out why. 

He remembered that his father had been hiding something from his mother for a few weeks now, which must’ve been the cause of his concern. Lance couldn’t really think of anything else that would warrant this reaction, and it left Lance with a funny feeling in his throat. What was his dad possibly hiding from his mom?

Lance managed to keep silent during the discussion, looking between his parents as they bickered back and forth with each other. Their tones were light-hearted, but Lance could still tell that something was eating away at his dad, and he didn’t really know what to think about all this. 

Eventually, the conversation ended after about ten minutes, and Lance’s father had cleaned up his mess without complaint, looking presumably guilty about making it in the first place. 

Lance just sipped at his orange juice.

The first thing Lance feels when he wakes up is a pounding, burning feeling on his forehead, and he cautiously brings a hand up to it, feeling an obnoxious bruise starting to form. He curses quietly and starts to sit up off the cushiony surface he’s lying on. 

“Careful, dude. You might have a concussion,” Hunk’s voice says from far off, and Lance looks around for the source, suddenly getting a woozy feeling. He lays his head back down, sighing at the relief that brings him.

“What happened?” He asks drowsily, trying to keep his eyes open so he can stay awake. His vision is somewhat blurry, and there’s a ringing in his ears that’s clouding over any other thoughts he might have. 

All he can focus on is pain, burning, itching, ow.

“You got knocked off the cow by an alien with a giant hat. If it makes you feel any better, the alien did seem genuinely sorry about the whole thing,” Hunk says, his voice taking on a sound of amusement.

Lance scoffs. “The cow’s name is Kaltenecker, so show some respect,” He corrects and groans as another wave of pain rings through his skull. 

Hunk scoffs back, and Lance hears shuffling around for a few moments before, eventually, a cold rag is put on top of his eyes. It’s soothing, and it feels really good compared to the searing pain on his forehead, so Lance manages to shut his mouth and stifle any other choice words that come to mind. Bless Hunk in all his glory and kindness. 

Lance remains silent, though he can tell Hunk is probably laughing at him now, quiet wheezing and shoulders shaking in all. The laughing dies down after only a few moments, and Lance isn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried. 

There are suddenly footsteps in the room, and they’re a little too quick and worried to be Hunk’s. They’re striding over to Lance rather quickly, and Lance barely has a chance to get a word in edgewise before the rag is yanked away from his face. Lance almost groans at the loss of contact but catches himself when he realizes who it is.

“Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to let a concussed person sleep?” Keith’s voice hisses tiredly, and Lance tries to focus his eyes on the blurry figure above him. Keith doesn’t look angry at all, but he does look just a tad bit frustrated.

Hunk clicks his tongue. “It’s fine to let him sleep as long as we check on him every few hours or so.”

Keith can’t find an argument for that statement and gives a reluctant sigh, causing Hunk to laugh again, a soft noise that would’ve gone completely unnoticed if the room had been loud enough. “‘Sup, Mullet?” Lance voices, noticing that Keith looks really blurry around the edges. 

“Oh, you know, nothing much. Only the fact that one of my friends was bleeding out all over the floor a few hours ago,” Keith says nonchalantly, but there’s always that underlying note of worry that Lance can’t help but notice.

“I was bleeding?” Lance inquires and goes to sit up once again, but Keith pushes him back down.

“Yes,” He answers. 

“You didn’t lose that much blood. Still, it was kinda worrying to see,” Hunk offers, and Lance nods his head slightly.

“We were gonna put you in a pod, but Coran said to save it for emergencies, ” Keith enunciates the last word mockingly, and Lance huffs out a laugh.

“That sounds like Coran, alright,” He says, clearing his throat. Lance tries to gather all his thoughts into one specific place in his mind before sorting through which one is more important. He supposes he should start with the obvious. “Where’s Kaltenecker?” 

There’s a sting of confused silence from Keith, but Hunk picks up the slack by answering smoothly. “Kaltenecker is currently being experimented on by Pidge,” Hunk says, and Lance’s eyes widen considerably, causing another burning pain to ring through his head. 

“Uh, experimented? What kind of experiments?” 

Lance can practically hear Hunk shrug. “Nothing too abnormal. Just a few tests to make sure she’s the real deal and not some clone bent on destroying us all.” 

Lance blinks three times before managing to register what Hunk just said.

 “Huh?” He says intelligently. 

Hunk shakes his head. “Nothing. Just a joke,” He excuses, and Lance bites back an argument. He wants to know why Hunk said it like that, why he sounded so… nostalgic yet defensive. Dismissive would probably be the right word. 

“A little specific,” Lance hears Keith mutter, and he can’t help but agree. 

“Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I’ll keep an eye on Lance,” Keith offers, and Hunk effortlessly agrees, walking out of the room without saying another word.

“Hunk seems a little on edge,” Lance says observantly, and Keith sighs.

“He just watched you split your head open less than a day ago, of course, he’s gonna be a little on edge, ” Keith says strictly, and Lance remembers back to the talk he had with Hunk on the Balmera. 

Hunk had been so worried back then, and Lance had completely forgotten just how traumatizing it would be to watch one of your friends get hurt in such a way. To be so near death that the thought of them dying would be a lot closer than the thought of them living. 

Keith, seeming to sense Lance’s thought process, pats him on the shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

Lance tries to think about anything he might need, but his mind is blank. “I don’t…think so?” He says, and Keith hums in response.

There’s some rustling from a few feet away before a plastic bag enters Lance’s blurry view. “You were holding this bag in your hand when you fell,” Keith says, his voice soft, and Lance wonders mutely if Keith caught a look at what was in the bag. 

Lance reaches a hand up and takes it, holding the bag with the jacket inside it to his chest. He feels better, knowing that the jacket is close by, and smiles slightly. “Thank you,” He says to Keith, and the latter pats his shoulder again, the motion softer.

“No problem.”

There are a few minutes of silence, and Lance notices that Keith hasn’t moved his hand off of his shoulder. It stays there, a comforting, warm presence that makes Lance experience a fond feeling start to take form. He knows that feeling, that emotion, and knocks it away, locking it away behind that same door he did a few days ago. Absolutely not, he thinks. It won’t end well.

Nevertheless, he makes no move to remove Keith’s hand from his shoulder and closes his eyes, soaking the moment in and refusing to register it as anything more than Keith being a good friend. That’s all this is, he believes. 

He drifts to sleep, letting the darkness overtake him again. 

“Lance, you’ve got a visitor!” Nadia shouted, and Lance looked up from the patch of flowers he was planting. He brushed the back of his hand over his forehead, attempting to wipe away any dirt or sweat. The words, Tell them I’m not here, rested on his tongue, and he almost felt guilty for even thinking of saying them. Instead, he replied, “I’ll be right there!”

Besides, even if he wanted to lie, his little niece’s voice traveled quite far, so it wouldn’t exactly be a secret that he was here. She also wasn’t the best liar, either, which Lance considered to be a somewhat good thing. 

Lance brushed the rest of the dirt on his hands off his pants before rolling his sleeves back down his arms. He ran his cleanest hand through his hair, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable but most likely doing the opposite. He wasn’t a very good host, especially with very little notice. 

He eventually got enough courage to leave the patch of freshly-planted flowers, walking towards his house with a newfound sense of anxiety. Lance wasn’t quite sure why this specific time made him nervous, exactly, because he didn’t really feel this way before. Maybe in the past, he had been more annoyed, and after he got past that particular phase in his life, he started to feel different. Lance truly didn’t know. He doesn’t know how grief works. It’s not like he lets himself truly go through the motions with it, now, does he?

Lance lightly touched one of the Altean marks resting on his cheekbones, wincing slightly as he felt the scaly surface. Despite the warm weather, the mark still felt cool to the touch, like touching a slightly melted ice cube. The feel of it almost made him nauseous, and he dropped his hand as if he had been burnt. 

He hated feeling like this. 

“Uncle Lance! Your friend Keith came to visit!” Nadia’s voice carried from inside the house, and Lance experienced a small sense of relief flow through him, but the anxious part of him didn’t go away. A part of him was still nervous around Keith, and he wasn’t sure why. 

Lance, nevertheless, smiled as he entered the house, looking around to try to find the so-called guest in question. He found Keith in the living room, sitting down on the couch and examining a picture frame very closely, with a melancholic expression on his face. 

Lance stood in the doorway, feeling like a stranger in his own house and intruding on something personal. He cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at Keith as the other man looked up at him, caught off guard as he had been in his own world.

“Sorry,” Keith apologized, quickly putting the picture frame back on the coffee table it had previously been sitting on.

Lance didn’t say anything in response, simply waving his hand dismissively as if to say, “ No big deal.” 

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked kindly, hoping his tone didn’t come off too hasty or worried. Keith shrugged, keeping his eyes on the picture for a few moments longer before standing up from the couch. He walked up to Lance slowly as if he was trying not to startle him. Lance felt a sense of worry shake through him. He didn’t look that fragile, did he?

“Just wanted to see you,” Keith said, but then looked away. “I wanted to see how you were doing, I mean,” He corrected himself, and Lance raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“I’ve been worse, and I’ve been better,” Lance answered honestly, and Keith seemed a bit relieved at his reply.

“That’s good,” He said, clearing his throat, and Lance immediately knew something was wrong. 

“Did something happen?” Lance asked gingerly, furrowing his eyebrows in worry at the look on Keith’s face. The more he examined his friend, the more he noticed things. 

Keith’s mullet was pulled back in a short yet messy ponytail, and he had dark, sunken circles under his eyes.

He looked miserable, like he hadn’t slept in months, and Lance wondered out loud if he had been having nightmares.

Keith sighed. “Yeah, pretty much,” He nodded in a resigned manner. Then he redirected the questioning towards Lance. “Do you get any dreams about it? About… any of it?” 

Lance thought about this question and found that the answer was easy to say. “No, I haven’t. I mean, sure, I think about it from time to time, but I try not to dote on it as much anymore.”

Keith looked surprised at this. “Really? Because I can’t help but dote on it sometimes. It’s like a light switch. Once it gets flicked on, it’s really hard to flip it back off.”

It seemed like a good metaphor. Lance could understand it well enough. But he found that he couldn’t relate to Keith’s feelings, no matter how hard he tried to. He wanted to, believe him. Lance wanted to get over his grief and move on, but it’s not really that simple when your own mind won’t let you remember or process anything. Using the lightswitch metaphor, it’s like Lance’s switch is permanently flipped off, and there’s no possible way to turn it on. And even if he tried and succeeded, knowing his luck, the bulb would be burned out, making all his efforts to turn the light on fruitless. 

Okay, maybe he’s thinking a little too deeply about the metaphor.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Lance asked genuinely, and Keith shook his head.

“I feel like if I do, I’ll probably start crying or something, and nobody wants that,” Keith replied, looking a bit embarrassed at the thought of him crying. 

“I wouldn’t judge you for crying, dude. You’ve been through a lot of tough shit. We all have, really, but you’ve gotten more than your fair share, and it’s okay to talk about it.”

Keith smiled, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners, and Lance smiled back. “Maybe another day,” Keith answered, but by the look on his face, Lance could tell Keith would never talk to him about it, and that thought was oddly reassuring. It also hurt just the tiniest bit, but Lance would never admit that out loud. At least Keith would get help from somewhere, even if it wasn’t from Lance. 

Another tired sigh from Keith echoed through the room, and Lance got an idea. “You wanna go say hi to Kaltenecker?” He asked, not completely sure if changing the subject was a good idea or not.

Keith’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he nodded, seemingly grateful for the change of topic. “Sure.”

Lance motioned for him to follow, and they both walked out through the front door of his house. “Y’know, I was talking to Coran the other day,” Keith started, and Lance looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “He said he and Allura went through a phase of liking milkshakes, but they suddenly stopped. He said to ask you next time I saw you, so…?”

Hearing Allura’s name out loud hurt, but not quite as much as Lance expected. “Ah, the real reason you came here,” He said jokingly, and Keith shook his head again, letting out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, uh, the moment I showed them how milkshakes were made, they were pretty much traumatized, so…” Lance said so much without saying a lot at all.

Keith’s eyes widened, fully grasping the meaning of Lance’s short explanation. “That’ll do it, alright,” Keith said, and Lance laughed.

“I was a little intense about it, but I was also bored and had nothing else to do,” He shrugged, and Keith tilted his head. 

“You, bored? When was that exactly?” Keith inquired, and Lance couldn’t find a good reason to lie to him.

“After you left for the Blade. Everybody else was busy with their own thing, and I didn’t have anyone to bicker with anymore,” Lance jested, but when he looked at Keith, his mouth went dry. 

Keith was looking at him again. There was a slight quirk to his lips, and his eyes were nearly twinkling. Lance couldn’t tell what emotion he was feeling. He found that he almost didn’t want to. 

“Are you saying you missed me?” Keith said wondrously, and Lance scoffed.

“No,” He lied through his teeth, and Keith’s expression told Lance that he knew he was lying. “Ok, fine, maybe a little,” Lance admitted, and Keith’s expression went soft. 

“...you, too.”

Keith’s words came out as a mumble, and Lance had a feeling that he knew what he said but feigned ignorance. “Huh? What’d you say?” He said, giving Keith a curious look. Keith shook his head, giving a clueless look.

“I said I was bored, too,” Keith answered, and Lance found that Keith’s actual reply fit better than what he had thought he said. Because why, exactly, would he think Keith missed him? They were friends now, sure, but they weren’t as close back then. They had their ups and downs, bickering and fights, and yeah, they had said some hurtful things to each other from time to time, but it wasn’t like that anymore, now was it?

Lance didn’t say anything in response to that and kept walking side by side with Keith, who stayed silent. “I actually had something else I wanted to ask you,” Keith said suddenly, and Lance got a sudden feeling of dread.

“What?” He said stiffly, side-eyeing Keith suspiciously. 

“Nothing bad, I promise,” Keith reassured. Lance finally turned and looked at his friend expectantly. He knew what Keith was going to ask, and he already had an answer. Still, Lance was going to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him ask. 

“I was going to ask if you were ever going to pilot again.”

Lance stopped. That was not the question he was expecting.

“Uh, I haven’t really thought about it,” Lance answered honestly, averting his eyes nervously. He truly hadn’t thought about getting back in the cockpit seat for a while, not since the Lions left. Lance felt like his story ended with them leaving, like it or not, and experienced a period of emptiness ever since. 

“Well, you should,” Keith said seriously, and Lance looked back over at him, giving him a questioning look. “They have an opening at the Garrison. And there are also plenty of exploration teams, even on New Altea, that have been looking for experienced pilots. You could at least try it out,” Keith suggested, and Lance bit his lip, taking in the idea.

On one hand, it would be nice getting back in the seat again, but on the other hand, Lance didn’t think he would be able to sit in the seat anytime soon without shutting down. 

“I’ll try it out, just not anytime soon, okay?” Lance said, and Keith actually looked hopeful at Lance’s words.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I like the idea a lot, but I don’t think I’m ready,” Lance replied, and Keith nodded in understanding.

“I get that.”

The walk to see Kaltenecker took thirty minutes longer than it needed to, but Lance found that he didn’t mind. 

When Lance wakes up the second time, the pain in his head is greatly reduced, and he’s relieved that he can sit up without feeling like he’s going to pass out again. The plastic bag he was holding when he fell asleep is sitting in his lap, and Lance places a hand on top of it, scared to let it go and have it get lost again. 

He looks around the room, noticing that he’s alone, and is relieved by that fact. Lance loves his friends and would die for them, of course, but he really needs some alone time. He gets up off the makeshift bed he was lying on and stretches, stumbling a bit when his vision gets hazy. Maybe taking a little walk will help get his mind and body in order. He clutches the bag in his hand tightly as he regains his balance. 

Lance walks out of the room, which he quickly remembers as the infirmary, and turns left, heading towards the kitchen. He’s hungry and thirsty and really just wants something to do that doesn’t involve bothering his friends. 

He enters the kitchen and is grateful that no one else is there, and makes a beeline toward the fridge. Lance roots through it, not expecting much more than some leftover food goo and water pouches, but is surprised to see a box of cookies sitting on the top shelf. He peeks his head away from the refrigerator, making sure no one else is around, before quickly sneaking one from the box. He’ll definitely pay for stealing the cookie later if his luck is anything to go by, but he doesn’t care right now. 

“Ahem,” Someone clears their throat from behind, and Lance turns around quickly, the cookie in his mouth, and probably looking like a raccoon rummaging through the garbage right now.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Lance tries to say around a mouthful of cookie, but what comes out instead sounds like the noise a walrus would make. 

“Really? Because you look like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Literally,” Shiro says amusedly, his eyebrows raised as if he were disappointed in Lance’s decision-making. He probably would be disappointed if Shiro himself wasn’t holding a cookie, so Lance can safely say fair is fair. 

Lance stares pointedly at Shiro’s own cookie, and the older man shrugs. “I got no room to talk, I’m just making an observation,” He admits.

Lance closes the fridge door and turns toward Shiro, munching on his cookie in smaller bites. “Can I ask what time it is?” Lance asks, and Shiro hums.

“I think it’s around 12 o’clock at night in Altean time. I don’t know for sure,” Shiro answers, shrugging again, and an important question comes to Lance’s mind. 

“What are you doing up?” He asks, but he already knows the answer.

Shiro stops chewing, getting a faraway look in his eyes, and looks down at the ground. He swallows. “I couldn’t sleep,” Shiro confesses, and Lance feels bad for asking. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Lance offers, and Shiro looks a bit shocked by this, but shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s nothing you should worry about, Lance,” Shiro reassures, crinkling his nose as the words leave his mouth. 

Lance wants to argue, wants to say that he’ll worry about Shiro no matter what, but knows that it’ll only fall on deaf, stubborn ears. Shiro’s at the point in his life where he wants to neglect any help whatsoever and only wants what’s best for the people he cares about. He doesn’t want to be worried about, and he definitely doesn’t want anyone to notice that he needs help. 

Sounds like someone else I know, Lance thinks dispiritedly, his lips turned down into a frown.

Instead of doing what he really wishes he could do, Lance nods stiffly, giving a comforting smile. Shiro returns it, looking just as uncomfortable about this conversation as Lance is, and he sighs. 

“How’s your head feeling, Lance?” He asks. 

“It’s feeling a lot better than earlier,” Lance answers honestly, finishing off his cookie. He dusts off his hands of any crumbs, wanting to get rid of as much evidence as possible.

“That’s good,” Shiro says. “You had everyone worried.”

“Yeah,” Lance speaks. “I heard from Keith that I apparently cracked my head open?” Lance asks for clarification, and Shiro nods.

“Yeah. You fell pretty hard. It’s gonna leave a pretty gnarly scar,” Shiro motions to Lance’s forehead. 

“I don’t doubt it. That seems to be my luck lately,” Lance says, and it comes out more bitter than he intended. Shiro narrows his eyes apologetically. Then his eyes make a small trip downward to what Lance is holding. 

“Whatcha got there?” He inquires, pointing to the plastic bag Lance had forgotten he was holding. He had been so busy rooting around for cookies and talking to Shiro that he had forgotten he was holding it.

“Oh,” Lance starts, looking down. “Just something I picked up at the Mall.”

“Must be pretty important,” Shiro observes. “You held onto it even after you fell and passed out. Keith had to pry it out of your hands to make sure you didn’t get blood all over it,” Shiro says, his voice half-joking, half-worried. Lance feels a sharp sting of approval and gratefulness sing through his veins toward Keith. 

“That was nice of him,” Lance mutters out loud, bringing the bag up closer to his chest.

“It was,” Shiro agrees, his eyes tired but proud. 

“Well, you should get some rest, kiddo,” Shiro says and turns around to start walking.

“Shiro,” Lance stops him. “Whenever I can’t sleep, I go for a run. After I’m done, I take a really quick, hot shower. Then I put a boring show on TV, and I’m out,” Lance advises. Shiro looks concerned for a moment, taking in Lance’s words with hesitation. “It might not work for you, but it’d be worth a shot, right?” Lance inquires, and Shiro faintly nods.

“How do you–”

“Well, anyway, I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Shiro,” The words come out of Lance quickly, and he leaves the room. He hugs the bag close to his chest, rushing to his room with an unneeded sense of urgency. 

He’s running before he knows it, and Lance knows that he’s taking his own advice. He’s not running from Shiro, and he’s not running from his problems. He’s running for the sake of tiring himself out so he doesn’t have to think anymore.

Chapter Text

Lance can’t sleep.

He’s been lying in bed for the past two hours, and he’s made no progress in going to sleep. He even tried counting sheep, and that didn’t work. Nothing he has tried so far has worked.

He went on a jog after his talk with Shiro, took a shower, and even sat in the common room and watched some old Altean history channel that Coran had recorded, and nothing. Lance supposes he can chalk up his restlessness to him sleeping all day, but it still irritates him to no end that he can’t go to sleep when he wants to. 

Lance sits up, turns on his bedside lamp, and looks around his room. There’s an Altean clock on the wall that says that it’s close to three in the morning, and he sighs. He swings his legs off the bed and sits on the ledge, thinking deeply about his life decisions. 

He takes a look around his room in a vague attempt to decide what to do with his time, but there really isn’t anything he can do. He has no books, no video game console he paid for with illegal means, and no decorations. No pictures, no TV, nothing.

He decides on possibly heading to the training deck so he can tire himself out, and reluctantly stands up. He turns around to make his bed when he notices something near the wall. A plastic bag from the Space Mall. The one that has his dad’s jacket inside. He grabs the bag gently, holding it with tenderness as he examines it. 

The bag is slightly wrinkled, but there are no tears or anything that would suggest that the precious item inside is damaged. He opens the bag again and is still taken aback at the sight of the jacket inside.

Logically, he knew it was in there, but it still surprises him that the jacket is really here. How could he have missed this the first time around?

Lance takes the jacket out of the bag, carefully unfolding it and holding it in front of him as he looks at it. Lance has warm memories of his dad carrying him and his siblings around in this jacket, his dad spilling his coffee on this jacket, and his dad just wearing this jacket. The old man wore it everywhere. He wore it when he dropped the kids off at school, when he went to the store, hell, he even slept in it sometimes. 

His dad wore the jacket every day, almost like he had something to hide, and that made everyone in the family curious about it. Sensing everyone’s curiosity, his dad never took it off and never left it alone. It was always within his sight, and no one dared mess with the sacred jacket. 

Now, his dad is gone, and there’s no one to stop Lance from looking through it. Lance immediately feels bad at that particular thought. It’s not like he would be rooting through it for money or for personal gain. He just wants to hold onto the last few things he has left of his dad, that’s all. What those things could possibly be, he has no idea.

Lance lays the jacket down on the bed and contemplates looking through it. After all these years, he truly doesn’t think his dad would mind one of his children looking through it. That’s what Lance believes, and when he makes it back to Earth and gives it to his family, and they scold him for looking through it, he’d gladly take his punishment. Deep down, he knows that they would want to look through it, too.

He sighs and picks up one of the sleeves. It’s scattered with a lot of ink splotches and coffee spills, and there’s a tiny tear on the cuff. Lance’s dad probably had a conniption when he found it but decided not to ask his wife to fix it for him for some reason. He probably tore the sleeve around the same time he had something to hide from her.

The other sleeve is the same way with the stains, minus the tear, but there is a tiny drawing on the shoulder of the jacket. It’s a very tiny flower, and Lance immediately recognizes Rachel’s drawing style. She was always doodling, whether it was flowers or stars, she always doodled, and she somehow always got away with drawing on their father’s jacket. Their dad probably wanted to encourage her artistic side, so he didn’t mind the doodling one bit.

Lance smiles slightly at the drawing, feeling extreme homesickness overtake him. He was used to this feeling. It was the one he allowed himself to feel because he knew he would see his family again, no matter what it took. Thinking about his family back home actually gave him a sense of comfort, one that he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

He quickly takes notice of the two pockets on the front of the jacket. They were buttoned shut, and as Lance looked closer, he noticed there were more of Rachel’s doodles. These ones were hearts, and there were even some clouds, too. There are sun rays drawn around the buttons, and Lance feels just a tad bit guilty for popping open the jacket pocket. He gently reaches inside and feels a velvety texture on his fingertips.

Lance pulls out the velvety item and feels his heart drop to his stomach. It’s a velvet box, the kind you would use to propose to someone. His father and mother were already married, so Lance wasn’t sure why his dad would have this. His mother had told him they married right out of high school and had Luis a year later. 

He hesitantly opens the box and looks at its contents, trying to keep his breathing steady. It’s a beautiful ring, and while not gaudy or obnoxious, it has a gorgeous gemstone.

Lance had only gone ring shopping one time, and that was with Hunk in the previous timeline. He recognizes this gemstone, and while he can’t remember the exact name of it, he knows that this ring cost a fortune. When he had pointed it out to Hunk back then, even Hunk’s eyes had widened in shock at the price, and Lance wonders how on Earth his father managed to buy this for his mother. 

He tries to remember the ring his mother wore. It was a simple gold wedding band, and after her husband’s death, she wore it around her neck on a silver chain. She never complained about it, and Lance knew she never would. She wasn’t one to care about material things of that caliber, but even so, he knew that she would appreciate the effort that her husband put into buying her such a pretty ring. 

Lance’s father was most likely planning to give it to her on their wedding anniversary, he realizes and feels a sense of loss. He gently closes the box and puts it back in the pocket he found it in, trying not to feel anything else. 

He exhales softly, looking up at the ceiling to try and keep his eyes from watering. It doesn’t work, and a few tears end up falling anyway. He doesn’t acknowledge them and instead focuses on looking through the rest of his dad’s jacket. Lance remembers the jacket having so many pockets, and he specifically remembers his dad bragging about it.

Lance realizes his nose is running and turns away so he can wipe his nose. He uses his own shirt sleeve and makes a mental note to change his shirt later on.

He faces back towards the jacket and bites the bullet, deciding to look through the other pocket. He unbuttons it and slips his hand inside, feeling something that reminds him of a leather wallet. He pulls it out and is surprised to see that that is exactly what it is. 

Lance opens it and is a little confused when there are no credit cards or a driver’s license in the card slots. However, there are little polaroid pictures instead, and Lance becomes a bit more aware of the tears sliding down his face. He sniffles quietly, trying not to let any tears fall on the jacket. 

His dad carried an old wallet filled with pictures of their family. Lance looks at the thick stack of photos and starts looking at them one by one.

 A candid photo of Lance’s great-grandparents cuddling on the couch, a picture Dad took with Pop-Pop (his father-in-law), and a picture of Luis and Marco holding baby Veronica. Pictures of Mom smiling and laughing and looking so sunny and cheerful. Happy.

More pictures of baby Veronica. Luis and Marco holding Lance and Rachel when they were born. Mom holding Rachel while Dad held Lance, and another picture the opposite way. Lance riding piggyback on Dad’s shoulders while Rachel was being held on Mom’s lap. Veronica and Rachel baking together. Lance and Marco doing science experiments together. Luis’s prom pictures. 

 Dad and Lance taking a picture together while at the space museum. 

The stack of pictures stops there.

Lance wordlessly puts the wallet back in the jacket pocket and buttons it back up and notices that he doesn’t feel the numbness he was expecting. It feels more like a dam is breaking inside of him, like it’s holding onto just a single stick, and all he has to do is break it in order for the whole dam to go down.

He doesn’t know if he wants to. Lance thinks he can, maybe. But he’s not really sure if he wants to. Letting himself feel this pain almost a decade later feels dangerous. He’s not sure he should feel this way right this second. What if he doesn’t recover? What if he has a breakdown and can’t come back from this on his own? 

Despite all these thoughts, Lance’s hands are trembling, and he wonders if it’s doing more harm than good to keep shutting these emotions out. What good is it doing him right now exactly?

He doesn’t want to feel sad, but maybe he should, just for a little while. 

Yeah, maybe he’ll go cry in the shower for a little bit, and then pick himself back up. He’s done that before. He can surely do it again. 

Lance folds the jacket neatly and puts it back in the plastic bag. He walks over and puts the bag in the top drawer of his dresser for safe-keeping, and picks out a change of clothes while doing so. He walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. 

Lance is very glad the walls are soundproof.

He exits the shower a good two hours later, and he refuses to think any more about the reason he stayed in there so long. What he does choose to focus on is the fact that he actually feels a little better after. 

Lance is only out of the shower for thirty minutes before the Castleship’s alarm sounds off, and he darts out of his room and toward the bridge in just a few moments.

He doesn’t have his armor on, but he did make the conscious decision to at least bring his bayard. Lance didn’t think that Allura would try to simulate another emergency like this, but he also wouldn’t put it past her. 

Shiro’s already at the bridge when Lance gets there, and Lance is relieved to see that Shiro’s hair is a bit mussed, which suggests that he actually managed to catch a few Zs. Allura is standing at the control panel with Coran, both of them focused on the controls and not so much on the paladins currently entering the room. 

Hunk is the only one in pajamas, but he does have his bayard clutched tightly in his hand, almost like he was sleeping with it. Pidge is in normal clothes, along with Keith, and they both have their bayards as well. Pidge looks relatively well-rested, while Keith looks the exact opposite. He looks restless and a bit exasperated at the emergency alarm still going off. 

Shiro eventually clears his throat loudly enough that Allura and Coran notice that everyone’s in the room, and they shut the alarm off.

“I thought we were passed these emergency tests,” Hunk says grouchily, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Not quite,” Allura says stiffly, looking over each one of the paladins with disappointment. 

“Shiro’s the only one in uniform, yet again,” She sighs and writes something down on a clipboard Coran offers her. “But,” Allura starts. “I will give you all credit for bringing your bayards. It is a significant improvement from last time,” She says, her lips quirking ever so slightly. 

“Is there a reason you decided to do this now? ” Keith asks, his tone worried, and Allura smiles at the question.

“I think today would be the perfect opportunity to head to those coordinates that were in Shiro’s arm. It would be nice to know if we have more allies,” She says eloquently, and Lance sees Keith lighten up. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sounds good to me,” Keith says coolly, and Lance resists the urge to laugh out loud. Keith’s not very subtle. 

“What does the test we just did have to do with that Blade of Marmora base?” Pidge asks, taking off her glasses to clean the lenses.

“I figured we would want to make a good first impression if we meet some new allies,” Allura answers, but then she looks everyone up and down. “But, perhaps we should only have a few of us meet with their representatives. We want to look reliable,” Allura says, looking pointedly at Hunk’s pajamas. Hunk doesn’t look the least bit ashamed and nods understandingly. 

“Are we getting close?” Shiro asks, taking charge of the conversation.

Allura nods. “We should be there in a little less than a quintant. I’m not sure who’s going to be meeting with their representatives yet, so everyone should have some time to prepare,” She says, and the team nods. 

Lance knows exactly who’s going to meet with the Blade. It’s a crucial event that can’t be changed, but Lance also realizes that other big things have changed since the wormhole incident. 

He knows that they haven’t gotten any distress calls from the Taujeerians or the Olkari and blindly hopes that the two are alright. Pidge got close to the Olkari in the last timeline, and Lance did see a few on Zestrora, but none of them really acknowledged his presence. They were supposed to meet the Olkari not long after the wormhole incident, but no calls were made. The ship didn’t need any repairs either, which was strange, and Lance wondered what in the hell he did to mess up the timeline this badly. 

 As for the Taujeerians, that whole event was supposed to take place during the time that Allura and Keith were gone, and it didn’t. Either the Galra decided not to mess with the Taujeerians this time around, and they got lucky, or Voltron was too late, and the Taujeerians didn’t make it. 

Lance really hopes that the former option is true. 

He’s brought out of his own head by Keith nudging his shoulder, and Lance looks at him questioningly. “How’s your head? You seem a little spacey,” Keith says observantly, tapping Lance on the forehead. His touch is gentle and cold, and Lance also tries to ignore the fact that he focused on that for no apparent reason and shrugs at Keith’s question.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He answers, and Keith nods, though he doesn’t look like he believes him. “I’m going for a walk,” Lance simply says, and he phrases it as an invitation in case Keith wants to join him. He exits the room with Keith right beside him.

“Who do you think Allura’s gonna send to meet these guys?” Keith asks conversationally, and Lance contemplates saying the correct answer. He can’t know for sure where the Blade’s base is anymore, especially with all the other changes that have happened. The BOM base actually being in the same place as last time wouldn’t seem right or safe. 

Lance settles with another shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. It might be who she thinks is the most diplomatic,” Lance replies, and Keith squints.

“So, Shiro is definitely going. What about you? You seem pretty charismatic,” Keith says the last word funnily, and Lance smiles. 

“I was thinking Hunk would go,” Lance says. “Or maybe she’ll send you so you can get some practice in,” He adds, and Keith scoffs.

“I know how to talk to people just fine, thank you,” Keith says as he crosses his arms. 

Keith knows how to talk to people, sure. But he doesn’t know how to keep up a conversation. Or what to say to avoid offending someone. He has good intentions, but he’s not good at putting those intentions into words. He ends up stumbling and stuttering over his words when he gets nervous, and he gets nervous a lot. 

If he gets too nervous and feels like he’s getting backed into a corner, then he might get aggressive in an attempt to defend himself.

Lance doesn’t know what exactly happened at the BOM base in the last timeline, but he does know that Keith came back covered in cuts and bruises, and he even sustained a slight fracture in his shoulder. All Keith had said back then when he got back was,  I’m half-Galra, and that was the end of it. 

He had simply assumed back then that Keith said the wrong thing and got jumped, but never really put more thought into it. He definitely would this time. 

“So, are you going to the training deck?” Lance asks, and Keith tilts his head.

“Depends. Are you?” Keith questions back, and Lance almost stops in the middle of the hallway.

“To be honest,” Lance starts, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I was planning on just going to the library or the hangar or something.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t gonna train, despite what Allura said?” 

Lance sighs. “I didn’t think it was necessary,” He says, running a hand through his hair.

“Are you that confident in yourself?” Keith asks, and Lance notices that his friend almost sounds defensive. For what reason, he doesn’t know. 

“I just don’t think I’m going,” He says honestly, and that seems to make Keith even more confused.

“Why not? You seem like the obvious choice,” Keith inquires, and those specific words strike a bell in Lance. 

Second choice. Rebound. Seventh wheel. 

“I just don’t wanna be stuck here for eternity with Lance.”

“Just a feeling I got.”

“Please just go away, Veronica,” Lance said behind his closed bedroom door, trying to shut out his sister’s voice. She’s irritated and annoyed, rightfully so since he blew off Keith in a rather rude manner just a few minutes ago. 

“No. I’m not leaving until you open this door. Open. The. Door.”

Veronica was using her Big-Sister voice. That voice sounded almost exactly like their mother’s, and he hated it. 

“I just want to be alone,” He said, trying to contain his own anger inside himself. Why was that such a difficult thing to understand?

“Well, too bad. Because my behind is staying parked right outside this door until you come out.”

A loud thump is heard from the other side of the door, and Lance sighed tiredly. He could wait her out. He was in his bedroom. He had a small snack drawer that would last him a few days, and his room is connected to a bathroom, so he’s really all set. 

“I’m a very patient person, Lance. I’ll wait you out.”

Damn it. 

He sat down on his bed and brought his knees to his chest, trying to keep himself calm. “If I call Keith right now and apologize, will you leave?” He asked loudly. 

“No. You need to apologize in person.”

“Ugh.”

“Groan all you want. You did this. You’re the one trying to push everyone away, but I’m not letting you do that. These people care about you.”

Lance resigned himself to silence at this point. Veronica is very, very good at out-talking him. 

“Y’know, Hunk told me about you and Allura’s relationship right from the very beginning.”

What?

“I was nosy, I admit. It was a shitty thing to do, to root around in your personal life and ask about it at all. I only asked Hunk about it because he’s the one who knows you best.”

Why?

“I wanted to know why you loved her so much. What about her made you become the person you are today? And from all the stuff Hunk told me, I just don’t see it.”

Lance felt a hurtful pang in his chest, but didn’t say anything in response. 

“I met her, Lance. She was a beautiful person with a beautiful heart who died for the greater good of the universe, but I just don’t see it.”

See what?

“From everything Hunk said, I just don’t see how her death reduced you down to this. Because you wanna know what I think?”

No. Please go away.

“I think she saw you as a rebound. Her second choice. How could you mourn the death of a woman who saw you that way, Lance? There are people out there who see you as more than that, and instead, you’re mourning someone who saw you in the worst way.”

Go away.

Veronica went silent, and Lance was relieved to hear that she was finished speaking. There was a quick knock on the front door that rattled throughout the house, and then loud footsteps. Lance heard Veronica quickly get up. “Marco, what–”

“Move.”

Lance got up from the bed quickly, trying to de-wrinkle his clothes. Crap. His brother was probably pissed at him. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Lance reluctantly opened it, looking his big brother in the eye. “Hey, Lance,” Marco greeted, giving his little brother a soft smile. Lance noticed Veronica out of the corner of his eye, crossing her arms and looking downright furious. 

“Hey.”

Marco simply holds up a set of car keys, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “Wanna go on a road trip?”

Lance found that he liked that question a lot. “Yeah.”

“Pack your bags. We’re leaving in thirty.”

Lance and Keith found themselves in the training room, but instead of training, they were lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Shouldn’t we be doing something more productive?” Keith asks, but Lance gently shushes him.

“Nah. If someone comes in, we can lie and say we got tired out or something.”

Keith scoffs but doesn’t argue. 

“Are you nervous?” Lance finally has the guts to ask. Keith had confided in him before about him possibly being half-Galra, and Lance wanted to try to put his worries to rest. He didn’t know how the news would go over with the team this time around, but he would stick up for Keith this time instead of staying silent. 

“About what?” Keith asks dumbly, and Lance sighs. 

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

“Look, my whole situation with my mom might just be a coincidence. Maybe I’m blowing this all out of proportion,” Keith says suddenly, and Lance knows he’s in the beginning stages of denial.

“Mhmm,” Lance hums.

“Don’t mhmm me,” Keith says, voice sounding annoyed. 

“Okay. Then, whatever you say .” 

“Lance.”

“Dude, it’s okay to talk about it. I promise,” Lance reassures, and Keith looks over at him, squinting his eyes suspiciously.

“Yeah, but if I start talking about it, it’s gonna feel real,” Keith reasons, his nose scrunched, and Lance has the strange urge to–

Anyway.

“This really isn’t the kind of thing you can ignore forever. If these guys really are our allies, and I’m betting they are, you’re gonna have to talk to them eventually. That kind of truth can’t be hidden forever.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “Why do you sound so experienced? Have you got something to hide?”

Lance glides through the question. “Who doesn’t have something to hide? Just… at least consider what I’m telling you. I just wanted you to know that if you do happen to be half-Galra, literally nothing would change between us. You’d still be my friend.”

Keith sighs. “How can you say that like you’re so sure? What if Zarkon can hack into my mind or something and brainwash me?”

Whoa. A little specific.

“If he were capable of doing that, he would’ve done it already. He’s probably desperate now that he can’t track us anymore.”

“Good point,” Keith mumbles and nervously twirls a lone strand of hair around his finger. 

“Are you worried about how everyone else will react? Because I’m sure they’d think the same thing I am,” Lance says with certainty, because he knows for a fact they will. Although he should probably tell Hunk to cool it a bit with the questions when it does come out. 

“What about Allura?”

“Allura’s been opening up a lot to the idea of working with the Galra. Haven’t you been paying attention?” Lance asks, and Keith keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

“I’ve been busy thinking about other things, actually,” Keith mutters, and Lance wonders what could possibly be more important.

“Like what?”

Keith looks at him now, giving him that look, and Lance can finally describe it now that he’s seen it so many times. 

When Keith looks at him like that, his whole face softens. His lips quirk into a slight, soft smile, and his eyes almost sparkle with an emotion that Lance refuses to identify. He can’t do it.

“Stuff,” Keith answers, his voice quiet. 

Before Lance can say anything in response to that, Coran’s voice comes over the intercom, and the two of them sit up. Keith’s soft demeanor has been replaced with a rigid, anxious one instead, and Lance wishes that moment could have lasted just a bit longer. 

Coran states that they’re nearing the coordinates and to head to the bridge in uniform this time.

Keith and Lance both head to their rooms to get dressed and then head to the bridge. Keith radiates anxiety with every step, and Lance wishes he could tell him with certainty that it’ll all be okay. He supposes he could, but then that would just make things weird. 

Lance settles for an awkward pat on the shoulder as they enter the room, and Keith looks just a tad bit grateful.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Lance asks out loud.

While the base isn’t in the exact same place as last time, it is still between two black holes. It also sits right next to a giant red star this time, and Lance wonders if that fact bears any significance. 

“It’s going to be pretty hot near that star, right? You’ll probably need to go down in a Lion that can stand the heat,” Lance suggests, and Keith gives him eyes that say, “What in the actual fuck are you doing?”

“That’s right, Lance. That’s why Keith and I are going to head down there,” Shiro says, giving Keith a confident look.

And all Keith can do is say, “Okay.”

Lance feels bad for being so pushy, but this will have to happen eventually. 

After the plans are made, Shiro walks up to discuss the more minor stuff with Allura, and Keith pokes Lance on the shoulder. “Dude.”

“There’s no need to be nervous, dude. Not when I’ve got your back. I’ve always got your back, okay?”

Keith neglects to say anything else but nudges Lance’s shoulder anyway. 

Keith and Shiro make it to the base, yet Lance can’t stop himself from worrying. He knows, logically, that everything will work out the same. It should anyway. 

Knowing his luck, it probably won’t, but it won’t stop him from hoping. 

Allura keeps a close eye and close contact with Shiro and Keith as they make it down, and Lance notices that she’s less biased than last time. There are no suggestions of the Blade betraying them, and definitely no unnecessary comments.

Lance tried to understand the first time; he really did. He understood the hate she had towards Zarkon and the Galra Empire as a whole, as they had completely wiped out her family and civilization. Hell, he would be mad too. But he didn’t understand the bias against the Blade. The Blade of Marmora was a completely new territory, and from the info they knew back then, they seemed like obvious allies. But even back then, with Ulaz sacrificing himself, Allura still didn’t want to believe that any Galra could possibly be good. She had probably been in her own stage of denial, too. 

He had always looked at Allura with rose-colored glasses back then, but he didn’t anymore. He honestly didn’t know when he stopped. There’s not a memory or moment he can pinpoint. One moment, he looked at her with hopeless love, like she could do no wrong, and the next moment, he was looking at her like she was a regular person. A regular person who had their flaws and their bad days and who felt actual emotions. Allura wasn’t perfect, but Lance loved her when he thought she was. The more he thinks about it, maybe he didn’t really love her at all, not in a romantic way at the very least. 

The thought hurts him and, simultaneously, makes him feel better, even though he has no idea what it means. 

He slips away from the group when no one is looking and heads down to the library. He wants to start reading up on Altean tech, Galra tech, or whatever books they have. Anything that can help him in the future. 

Lance isn’t the smartest, and he isn’t tech-savvy, but he can follow directions. He slips on the goofy Altean glasses and gets to work, reading whatever he can so he can retain it for later. If he’s not capable of building it, then he’ll consult Hunk and Pidge, but he’d prefer not to involve his friends in this, at least, not yet. 

He knows they would probably run circles around him with this kind of thing, but he’s not ready for the questions that come with asking them for help. He scans through all the mechanics books, getting more and more impressed with the way Alteans advanced so quickly in technology. The Galra weren’t too far behind them, but their technology was a bit more…colder. Darker.

Altean technology was light, and it gave a warmth that the Galra tech didn’t possess. Lance isn’t sure how to explain it. 

Maybe it’s because he knew these devices they built back then would advance and be used to do monstrous things. He wasn’t sure. 

Finally, after an hour or two, Lance found a book on Voltron. The engineers who built it, including King Alfor, gave their perspectives on each of the Lions, and it even included quotes from the paladins themselves. 

Each paladin reminded Lance of each of his friends, and that thought stung. He wishes he had gotten to meet the paladins of old in person. He wonders what exactly brought about their downfall. Was it Zarkon himself who murdered his friends in cold blood, or something else that the Galra created just for that dreadful day? Maybe Haggar?

Damn it. This whole situation is beginning to frustrate him again. Lance knows he has a great advantage, knowing what’s supposed to happen and having the opportunity to fix it. The main problem is hoping that something worse won’t happen in place of the thing he fixed. 

He probably needs to talk to Clotho again, which is aggravating since he just saw them not that long ago. Why does he think of all the good questions after they leave?

Lance stops on a certain page and reads the words, examining them slowly, reading them over and over to make sure he understands. 

The consciousness of each Lion is capable of uploading the mind of its paladin in extreme circumstances, such as imminent death.

Lance knows this already, he does, but it makes him feel like Shiro’s death is inevitable. It absolutely can’t be, though. There has to be a way to save him. What exactly killed him that didn’t kill the others? That’s the main part that confuses Lance. 

Did Haggar interfere, or…?

He rips the glasses from his face and tosses them aside, feeling a familiar form of frustration flood his mind. He wishes it could just be him instead. He wishes Shiro didn’t have to go through that. 

Lance goes through his mind, trying to remember the other words in the book that left a lasting impression besides the ones he just read. 

The Lions will rescue their paladins if they believe they are worthy enough.

If Black couldn’t save Shiro last time, what’s to say that’ll change? It’s a brutal thought to think, but Lance truly doesn’t have any better ideas. What’s he going to do, walk right up to Black and beg him to keep Shiro safe? The Lion would literally think he’s mental. Or at the very least, stupid. 

It’s not like they could put up a shield–

Wait. Hold on. He might be onto something there. It wouldn’t be a physical shield like the one Voltron would wield. It would be like the one the Castleship has. That wouldn’t be too hard to rig up, right? Although he does have to wonder about the logistics of that. 

He should’ve started thinking about this sooner. Maybe, when they eventually find Slav, he can give Lance a hand on this project. Will it work? There’s no doubt it would work. But would it save Shiro? He doesn’t know, but he’ll do everything in his power to do so.

He made a promise. He doesn’t want to break it.

Before Lance can even put a simple blueprint together, Coran comes over the intercom, asking Lance to come back to the bridge. Well, that’s embarrassing.

He puts the books in a pile and makes a mental bookmark to pick back up on later, hoping that will be soon. 

Lance makes it back to the bridge in less than two minutes and gives Allura a nervous smile. “Sorry, had to use the bathroom,” He lies through his teeth, and Allura’s stern glare softens.

“Please let us know next time.”

He walks up beside her and looks at the screen, side-eyeing her as she bites at her well-manicured nails anxiously. That’s a new habit. “Heard anything?”

“Actually, that’s why I wanted everyone here. The Red Lion is reacting quite aggressively down there, and I’m worried. What if Keith is hurt?” Her voice is soft and worried, and Lance wishes he could reassure her that Keith won’t be. 

But he is, and knowing that pains him too, to some degree. 

It also means that Keith and Shiro will be back soon, and that thought also makes him feel a sense of relief. Just a few more minutes.

Lance stays silent because he doesn’t know what to say. This occurrence is becoming more and more common nowadays, and he wishes he could go back to how he used to be. Young, dumb, but empathetic. Someone who knew just the right thing to say to make people feel better. Someone who could crack jokes and shake off any insults people threw at him.

But he can’t do that anymore. He feels vulnerable and small, like he’s an insect on the verge of getting stomped on. Like any wrong move he makes will get him smushed into the pavement. 

Okay, he really needs to relax with the metaphors.

Lance opts to just stand next to Allura and gently pats her on the shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, but she does take a single step closer to him. She leans her head on his shoulder, and Lance lets her, feeling a burning sensation in his chest. He doesn’t know that feeling, nor does he recognize it. It’s not a bad feeling, he realizes, but it doesn’t really feel good either. It’s a bittersweet feeling. 

After a few more minutes of silence, the Red Lion eventually makes its way back to the Castleship, and everyone is relieved to see that Shiro and Keith are alright. They exit the Lion with Kolivan, and just by the look on Kolivan’s face, Lance knows that he knows. 

Lance keeps a straight face, watching the interaction between him and Allura. It goes the same as last time, although Allura is far less defensive than she was before. She even curtsies back when Kolivan kneels. 

He can tell that this takes Kolivan completely by surprise, but the Galran does a miraculous job of hiding it. 

Kolivan introduces himself to everyone but side-eyes Lance once, and Lance knows that Kolivan himself has figured out the situation. He only hopes that Kolivan doesn’t snitch. How he figured out so quickly, Lance has no idea, but now isn't the time or place to ask.

“We’re on a very strict timetable, so we need to get a move on with this plan,” Kolivan says sternly. Everyone nods and turns to make their way to the bridge.

Keith stops Lance as everyone else walks out of the room, and Lance knows what Keith is going to say. He turns around and keeps quiet, waiting for Keith to say it out loud. When Keith is silent for a few minutes, Lance decides to make a joke. “Do we need to reenact that Twilight scene where Bella finds out Edward’s a vampire, or…?”

Keith lets out a startled laugh, but it does bring a smile to his face.

“How do you always know what to say?” Keith asks, running a hand through his already disheveled mullet. He has a few scratches on his face, and there’s a bruise on the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as last time. Maybe Kolivan’s influence had something to do with that?

“I don’t. I just make stupid jokes,” Lance says honestly, causing Keith to shake his head. He sighs and looks back up at Lance.

“I’m half-Galra,” He says, and Lance nods.

“And that’s okay. We’re obviously still friends.”

“You won’t hold it against me?”

“There’s no way I could.”

Chapter Text

When Shiro and Allura both explained which planets they had liberated and how many allies they had, Kolivan looked surprised, to say the least. He had given Lance a side-eye that said, How much has changed, exactly? that Lance had met with a simple shrug when no one was looking. Lance didn’t know the answer himself, if he was being honest. 

They should’ve had the Olkari as valuable allies at this point, but there had been no distress signal when they passed through that part of the universe. The Taujeerians would’ve sent out an S.O.S. around this time, too, but nothing. 

Hunk had mentioned that they also had the merpeople on their side, but that only left them, along with the Balmerans and the Arusians, as their only known allies. Lance had wanted to mention Zestrora, but decided to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure if he wanted everyone to know that yet. Pidge had inquired about his rescue from Zestrora if he was able to make diplomatic relations with them, but Lance had steadily rerouted the question, choosing to ask where Hunk was instead.

Pidge either hadn’t noticed his hesitance or just hadn’t cared. Either way was fine with him.

Now, though, Lance is seriously wondering whether or not he should tell Kolivan the truth. On the one hand, telling the truth could be beneficial, and Kolivan would be able to recruit some more allies, especially from Zestrora, considering Lance remembered seeing a few Galra there. On the other hand, Lance doesn’t know Kolivan’s motives yet, and whether he wants to keep it to himself like Lance is or announce to everyone that he knows and call Lance out on his bullshit while he’s at it. 

That last thought horrifies Lance, probably more than it should, and gives him a sense of anxiety that he can’t easily shake. Kolivan’s a hard book to read, and he controls his expressions relatively well. He stays straight-faced most of the time, and the only time Lance has seen Kolivan exhibit any emotion was on Earth, and that emotion was sheer confusion.

Stars, he doesn’t know how he’s going to fix this. 

“We’re going to need more allies than you have at the moment if we want even a fighting chance against Zarkon,” Kolivan says stiffly, broadening his shoulders.

Shiro nods, though he does look just a tad bit confused. “We’ve been responding to all the distress signals we can, but between getting ambushed by Zarkon and dealing with ship repairs, we haven’t exactly had the time,” Shiro says, his eyebrows furrowing. 

Kolivan nods, but his blank expression doesn’t change. “I am not blaming you. I am simply stating facts. We have a list of contacts we want you to get in touch with. We’ll also need to enlist the help of an engineer named Slav, who’s currently being held prisoner by the Empire. We’re still trying to pinpoint his exact whereabouts,” Kolivan infers, giving another subtle side-eye in Lance’s direction. 

That means Slav isn’t being held in Beta Traz this time, weirdly enough, but Lance can’t be surprised by this. If the Blade of Marmora hasn’t located him yet, that isn’t very reassuring news. 

Kolivan hands Shiro a piece of paper, and Shiro scans it, reading out the words. “Ryner from Olkarion. Baujal from Taujeer. The citizens of Puig. These are the ones we need to get in contact with?” 

Lance feels a small shiver rattle through him. They didn’t save the citizens of Puig until after the big fight with Zarkon. It was after Shiro died but before Keith took over as the Black Paladin. Lance can guess that Kolivan is only trying to speed things along, but still, it leaves him with a weird, cold feeling.

He feels a nudge on his shoulder and turns his head slightly, catching Keith’s eyes. He raises his eyebrows, silently asking what’s wrong.

Keith’s eyes widen just the tiniest bit before subtly nodding over in Hunk’s general direction. Oh. Lance gets what he means now. 

Lance nods back, and Keith’s shoulders straighten up, the smallest ray of confidence shining through his worried exterior.

After Keith had confirmed what he and Lance pretty much already knew about him being half-Galra, they made a plan on how to tell the others.

Last time, Keith had flat-out just told everyone, which led to straight-up chaos all around. Allura had freaked out, Shiro had told her to cool it, but had given Keith a worried look, Hunk and Pidge were both stunned silent, and Lance had said nothing. Sure, he was freaking out on the inside, but that was really more for Keith’s sake than anyone else’s.

He had been worried that Keith was going to leave or that Allura was going to go all ham on him, but he was quickly proven wrong when Allura had simply left the room after the news broke. The only reaction Allura had was to give Keith the silent treatment, and while that certainly wasn’t the worst way she could’ve gone about things, Lance could still see that it broke Keith’s heart.

Lance had tried to show his support in his own way by pretending that it didn’t matter, but with Allura’s silent treatment and Hunk’s passive-aggressive comments, Keith didn’t really pay anyone else any mind. 

This time, Lance hoped that Keith’s confession would go over a lot smoother and would establish a bit more trust between all of them, though he was considerably more worried about Allura’s reaction. She had been more mellow about the Galra this time, but that didn’t mean that Keith’s confession wouldn’t be the straw that broke the camel’s back. There’s always a risk with this kind of thing.

Keith is going to tell Hunk next, which should go as well as anyone would expect. Hunk would undoubtedly be surprised, but he’d accept Keith for sure. The real problem would be his making unnecessary comments, but Lance is sure that Hunk knows enough by now not to say such things around Keith. 

After that, Pidge would probably be next, and while Keith and Pidge aren’t exactly close in this timeline yet, Lance knows that Pidge wouldn’t have a problem with it. 

Shiro seems indifferent about the whole thing, although confused, if anything else. He was the same way last time, and he never had a problem with it to Lance’s knowledge. 

Either way, Lance knows that everyone would come around eventually if they didn’t accept Keith now, but he’s hoping that there won’t be any waiting around for that to happen. Keith would tell everyone, it’d be a new fact of life, and life itself would go on. 

Lance takes the time to nudge Keith when he notices Hunk starting to doze off, and Keith decides to take the chance to go break the news to their half-asleep friend. Lance gives Keith an enthusiastic thumbs-up as the latter walks away and notices the hidden smile that Keith is trying to hide behind his hair. 

Why did he notice that?

He watches as Keith practically drags a very sleepy Hunk into the hallway and hopes for the best. That’s all he really can do at this point. 

Pidge walks up to Lance, her eyes squinted in suspicion. “What’s going on? Why’s Keith dragging Hunk away? Is he going to beat him up? What did–” Pidge’s questions come quickly, and Lance puts a hand over her mouth, giving her a reassuring grin. 

“All in due time, Pidge. I can assure you that Hunk is not getting beaten up right now. Keith is just telling him something important.”

Pidge tilts her head, looking back and forth between Lance and the door to the hallway. She hums thoughtfully. “Can I ask what this is about?” She questions, her voice slow and full of inflection, though Lance can’t tell what she’s implying. 

“Keith’s planning on telling you next, dude. Just hang in there for a few more minutes. And, while I can’t tell you exactly what he’s going to say, try not to freak out when he tells you,” Lance says, hoping that he comes off polite and not worried like he’s truly feeling. 

“Did he murder someone?” Pidge whispers, and Lance sighs. 

“Would you guys like to share with the class?” Shiro’s stern voice interrupts, and Lance and Pidge straighten up out of embarrassment.

“No,” Pidge reluctantly answers, and from the quick glance she gives Lance, he can tell she blames him for them getting caught. Oh well. 

Kolivan, Allura, and Shiro all look like a group of school teachers, giving the pair of them disappointed looks, and Lance feels like he’s back at the Garrison. He hates that feeling. Pidge looks uncomfortable too, and they both look in opposite directions, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere. 

Shiro’s eyes soften after a few more moments. “Would you guys like to contribute to the discussion? We’re thinking of going to meet with the Olkari first,” Shiro says kindly, and both Lance and Pidge sigh in relief. 

They both walk up to the table that the others are discussing at, and Lance tries not to dwell on the reason why Keith is taking so long to tell Hunk. Maybe they’re talking about something else. 

“Who are the Olkari?” Pidge asks, and Lance feels a small sting remembering what happened to Ryner in the past timeline. Ryner and Pidge had gotten along well, and Lance is hoping that he can prevent what happened to the leader of the Olkari. Pidge was heartbroken when she found out what happened back then, and Lance wants to do all he can to avoid any unnecessary heartbreak. 

“They’re extraordinary engineers who were previously kept prisoner by the Empire until around three decaphoebs ago,” Allura answers.

“They broke free and liberated themselves,” Kolivan starts, giving Lance another side-eye. 

If he keeps giving Lance those looks, someone is bound to take notice and think something’s up. Just when he thought Kolivan was the subtle type. 

“They had discovered that their king, Lubos, was being disloyal, and after the battle was over, they declared Ryner their new leader,” Kolivan explains, and Pidge’s mouth flattens into a thin line as if she’s remembering something. She has that thousand-yard stare that Lance recognizes from his other friends experiencing what he assumes to be deja vu, and gently pats her on the shoulder to bring her back.

She’s not ready to remember all that yet. Lance doesn’t think anyone is. 

He’s probably being biased right now, thinking that, but he doesn’t care. His gut is telling him that everyone else remembering everything would be a very, very bad idea. Kolivan’s not-so-subtle side-eyes are telling him that right now. 

“Then you’ll have to meet with the Taujeerians and then the citizens of Puig. While they aren’t engineers, we think they’ll be very helpful on the combat side of things. We are thinking of forming a Coalition and would like to know your input on the matter,” Kolivan says, and Lance’s eyes widen considerably. Kolivan is seriously not wasting any time. Lance should probably take a note out of Kolivan’s book and get to work. 

Lance begins to tune out the technical talk, piping in when input is requested of him, and is surprised to see that his opinion actually matters to whoever’s asking. 

He isn’t used to that.

Eventually, after what feels like hours at this point, Keith and Hunk come back into the room. Keith looks relieved, and like a gigantic weight has been lifted off his shoulders, while Hunk looks like he knows something Lance doesn’t. His suspicions were correct; they were talking about something else besides Keith’s heritage. 

Lance hates snooping, but he has to admit, he is curious. 

He resists the urge to ask them what they talked about when both of them walk up beside him. Keith no longer looks distressed. His shoulders are looser than they were before, and his eyebrows aren’t scrunched together anymore. Hunk looks smug, and that expression both confuses and terrifies Lance at the same time. 

“Everything good?” Lance asks quietly, and Keith nods.

Hunk nods too, although it’s a lot more exaggerated than it should be. Lance briefly wonders if Keith actually did beat up Hunk and knocked a few screws loose because he’s acting weird. 

Pidge whispers something to Hunk that Lance can’t make out, but it sounds vaguely like, “What’s the hot gossip?” which causes Hunk to snicker. 

Shiro clears his throat loudly, causing the snickering to stop. “Guys, I know we’re all a little distracted here, but we should focus on the situation at hand,” Shiro says, his tone severe.

Everyone goes silent at this, and the rest of the meeting goes on as expected, with them planning to meet the Olkari first thing in the morning, followed quickly by the Taujeerians and the Puigians.

“It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow, so you all need to get some rest,” Shiro tells everyone, and nobody argues.

“Do you and the Blade need accommodations for the night?” Allura asks, and Kolivan still can’t manage to hide his expression of shock.

“We wouldn’t want to put you out, Princess. Our headquarters will be more than sufficient. We appreciate the offer,” Kolivan says, and Allura nods, though she does look a bit confused by the rejection. 

“Alright,” She says, her voice reluctant, and watches Kolivan walk out the door. “I am going to head to the training room. There are a few things I need to work on. Coran, will you join me?” Allura says suddenly, and Coran straightens up.

“Of course, Princess. Right away.”

“Do you need some help, Princess?” Shiro asks, frowning, and she gently shakes her head.

“Your assistance is not needed, thank you. Please, take your own advice and get some rest. I expect to see you all in as little as ten vargas. Make those count,” Allura says seriously, and even Shiro doesn’t argue.

Allura walks out with Coran in tow, and the room is silent. Shiro turns toward everyone, raising an eyebrow. “Wanna explain all the sneaking away and snickering today?” He asks, and Lance sighs. 

“I was telling everyone I was half-Galra,” Keith blurts out, and Pidge splutters.

“What!? You’re half-Galra?”

“Dude, you forgot to tell her one-on-one like we talked about,” Lance mutters, and Keith groans.

“Damn it.” 

“Language.” 

“So, that’s what you were telling everyone. I thought it was about…something else,” Pidge says, her tone suggestive.

“No, it was about me being half-Galra. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Keith says quickly, and Lance can instantly tell that from Keith’s tone and Hunk’s expression that everyone is in on something except him, and he’s not sure if he likes it.

“Alright, everyone. Settle down. Pidge, now you know,” Shiro says, gesturing towards Keith, and Pidge hums.

“I gotta say, I was kind of expecting it if I’m being honest,” She says, and Keith scrunches his nose in confusion.

“How?”

“Call it intuition. Anyway, now that everyone knows–”

“Allura and Coran don’t know, still,” Keith says, looking down at the ground.

Shiro puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I’m sure nothing will change, Keith. You’re still a paladin of Voltron, okay? I don’t think either of them will mind very much, and if they do, they’ll come around eventually.”

“Yeah,” Keith says noncommittally. 

“I agree with Shiro,” Pidge says. “I haven’t known you for very long, but I can tell that you’re a good person, half-Galra or not. I honestly don’t think it matters. We know now that not all Galra are bad, and Allura knows that too.”

Keith looks a bit happier at Pidge’s words, but is still not wholly convinced. It seems like the only thing that will convince him will be Allura’s actual reaction when he tells her. 

Shiro claps decisively. “Alright, everyone. For real, now. Let’s get to bed.”

There are so many comical groans in the room that Shiro smiles, but there’s no resistance. Lance is beginning to feel the pull of sleep and is grateful for that. He’s glad that sleep hasn’t betrayed him yet and begins the trek to his room. He thinks about how comfy his bed will be and how his head will feel hitting the pillow. 

Just as he’s starting to count sheep on the way to his room, Lance feels a tap on his shoulder and stops in his tracks for Keith. “What’s up?” He says quietly.

“I think I’m going to tell Allura now. Just so I can get it out of my system,” Keith says suddenly, and Lance tilts his head.

“Is that the best idea right now?”

“I don’t know. All I know right now is that if I don’t tell her within the next few minutes, I’m gonna combust,” Keith says honestly, and Lance nods.

“That’s reasonable. Alright, let me know how it goes, okay? I’ll be in my room,” Lance says, turning away when Keith stops him again, grabbing him by the arm. He feels a fluttery sensation in his stomach and quickly thinks about something else. Lance looks at Keith expectantly.

“I was actually wondering if you could come with me. You don’t have to be right next to me, just somewhere nearby so I know you’re there,” Keith explains, his tone small, and Lance can’t say no to that. 

“Sure. Let’s head over there.”

Lance is standing right outside the doorway to the training deck, watching Allura and Keith from afar. He can’t hear anything that they’re saying, but he can tell that Keith hasn’t told her yet. His hands are still trembling, and there’s a frown on his face. Allura is frowning too, although Lance can guess it’s for a different reason.

Her hair is up, and she’s in her bodysuit that she really only wears during missions. She’s covered in sweat for some reason, and Lance briefly wonders if she’s training physically or with her magic. Either way is obviously fine, but he hopes she’s not straining herself.

Lance watches for a few more minutes, and as Lance hoped, there’s no yelling or freaking out like Keith was originally expecting. Allura only nods and pulls Keith into a hug. He hugs her back, nestling his nose into her neck. 

An annoying sting rings through Lance that has to be locked away behind another metal door.

He does feel relief as he watches them, but also feels awkward, like he’s intruding on a very intimate moment. He contemplates going back to his room but decides against it. He told Keith he would stay here until he was done, so he couldn’t just leave.

All he can really do is look away and stare at the wall in front of him. He crosses his arms, feigning boredom, but doesn’t feign it for long when he notices out of the corner of his eye that Coran has now joined the hug between Allura and Keith.

A stupid feeling of relief flows through him, and he hates it. Why does he feel relief? What’s wrong with him?

Lance refuses to think any more about that dumb feeling and is pleased when he notices Keith walking back. He sends a soft smile in Keith’s direction. “I assume all went well?” Lance says, already knowing the answer.

Keith returns the smile, nodding. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“See? Everyone told you it’d be fine, Mullet. You should trust in us more,” Lance says, stretching his arms above him. They begin walking back toward their respective rooms. Keith laughs. “Yeah, I guess I should. Thanks.”

The two of them walk in silence for a few minutes, and Lance pretends not to notice that he and Keith are both walking a lot slower than they should be. He doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t want to think about it. 

He gets to his bedroom door and pauses for just a second. Lance spares a small glance in Keith’s direction and sees that Keith is looking back at him. He takes a step back from his door, and Keith mirrors him. “You wanna go hang out in the library?” Lance finally asks, and Keith seems to beam at the question.

“Sure.”

It was the last Reunion Lance had been to, and he, surprisingly, remembered every detail of that night.

The weather on New Altea had been cool and humid, and the flowers Keith had planted a year or two prior were still going strong, almost overtaking the juniberry patches by the hundreds. Lance had definitely considered not going this year, almost more than the past few years, but he had mustered up the courage to go when Hunk came a-knockin' on his door. It’s very hard to say no to Hunk. Even years later, Hunk’s puppy-dog eyes were still effective, and they worked on everyone. Even Lance.

Lance had sat at the table and waited for the others to arrive. First, it was Shiro, then it was Pidge, and then, two hours later, Keith arrived. Nobody blamed Keith. The Blade of Marmora kept him busy, which wasn’t new. It was to be expected, even years later. The universe is an infinite space, with countless people who need help, and The Blade was helping all they could, which brought them farther and farther away from Earth each time. 

Lance wouldn’t have been surprised if Keith didn’t show up to the Reunion at all next year. The only problem with that would be that Keith’s future absence would be the beginning of the end. 

First, it would be Keith not showing up, then Hunk, and then the busyness would spread to Shiro and Pidge until eventually, nobody came to the Reunion. It was a drastic way of thinking, but it was the truth. It was all Lance thought about throughout dinner, but he’d never voice these complaints out loud. Nobody wanted to hear that. 

They’d say, “That’s not true! We’d always find a way to show up!” 

Lance would appreciate the attempt, and that’d be it. 

Hours later, after everyone had finished their dinner, Lance found himself sitting on a bench. The bench was far away from the Allura statue and far enough away from the Castle everyone else was sleeping in. 

The bench was new, and Lance only knew that because he had wandered out here into the field every year. Someone may have seen him come out here and decided to build a bench for him, or they did it just because. 

Lance has learned that a lot of things have happened without a specific rhyme or reason to them. They just happened, whether you wanted them to or not.

The bench was made of stone, which means it was really cold to the touch. It also had Keith’s flowers growing vines around its legs, which Lance had found funny and oddly fitting. The flowers were just like Keith; whether you wanted him to or not, he would find a way to grab a good hold of you and never let go.

Lance didn’t know why he felt that way or why that specific line of thinking came at him so quickly, but it was just what he felt. 

“I figured I’d find you here,” Keith’s voice came from somewhere behind him, and Lance looked over his shoulder to find the culprit. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lance offered, scooting over just the tiniest bit so Keith could sit down if he wanted to. Keith gladly took the chance, sitting down almost immediately.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Lance took a small moment to study Keith, picking up on the numerous changes this year. Keith’s previously soft features had hardened just the tiniest fraction, with his jawline becoming more angular and him gaining just the slightest bit of eye bag. 

Still, Keith seemed livelier than ever, and confidence practically oozed from him. He almost seemed like a different person. He had trimmed his mullet so it fell just below his shoulders, but you wouldn’t notice since he kept it in a ponytail most of the time. That night, however, he had let his hair loose, and under the stars and in the dark, he had looked like how he looked back then, back when they were all in space.

There was a sudden pain in Lance’s heart, and he had clutched his chest, feeling the pain slowly subside. He needed to stop thinking about those times. They were over and done with. There’s no point dwelling on the past. 

Six years later, he still had to tell himself that. 

“What’s new this year, Lance?” Keith asked finally, and Lance sighed. 

“What do you think?” Keith didn’t grace that question with an answer, and Lance wasn’t sure if that hurt him or not. It’s not like Lance was offering any details about his life. It was his own fault. “I’m sorry,” Lance apologized, and he genuinely meant it. 

“It’s fine,” Keith answered, and Lance felt another pain hit him. He needed to stop pushing his friends away. They were only trying to help.

“How about you go first?” Lance suggested quietly, and Keith listened. He started talking about all the planets he had helped, all the people he had saved, and more. He talked about Zethrid and Ezor, Axca and Krolia, and even talked a little about Kolivan. 

He saved the best for last and talked about Kosmo for what felt like hours. Lance listened, watching the smile on Keith’s face slowly grow more and more as he talked. 

“You seem happy,” Lance said observantly, and Keith’s grin got even wider. 

“I am,” Keith confirmed, but Lance noticed Keith’s smile darken in what felt like a second. The lighthearted mood from just a few moments ago had vanished, and Lance had wondered what in the hell he had said wrong this time.

“You have everything you want, right?”

“Yeah. Almost.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow at this before realization set in. “Dude, you’ll tell them how you feel eventually.”

“That’s the problem, Lance. I tell them literally every time I see them. But guess what? Either they’re too adorably dense to pick up what I’m putting down, or they just don’t believe that they’re worthy of any love. And I don’t know which option is worse.”

Lance waited for Keith to say more, but he didn’t. Keith didn’t say anything else, and Lance was almost too afraid to look at him. 

“Lance, can I ask you something?”

Well, that is a very loaded question.

“Sure.”

“Hypothetically,” Keith began, and Lance knew that the next words out of Keith’s mouth were going to be targeted at him. “If someone were ever to come around and confess to you, would you give them a chance?”

That was something Lance thought about a lot. Would he give someone the chance? Does he even deserve a second chance at that kind of thing? Would it be a healthy relationship? Or would it be a rebound?

Those were questions that Lance asked himself when he was bored and when he had nothing else to think about. “I don’t know,” is the answer that comes out of Lance’s mouth.“In theory, yeah, I’d like to give someone a chance again. But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“How would you be hurting them?”

“I don’t want them to end up being a rebound or worse. It wouldn’t be fair to that other person. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It sucks.”

There was a silence that felt like it lasted forever, but in reality, it only lasted like five minutes.

“Is that what’s keeping you from being with anyone else?”

“There’s probably more to it that I’m not really thinking about, but that’s the main reason,” Lance said, plucking one of the flowers at his feet. He twirls the flower between his fingers, admiring the pretty purple color. It was a delicate flower, and Lance found it to be one of his favorites. 

“Do you ever see yourself with anyone else in the future?” Keith’s questions were hitting hard, and Lance was half-sure that Keith was practicing to be a therapist or something. 

He decided to answer honestly.“Yeah. Eventually. That could be decades from now, though, so don’t go planning any weddings for me.”

Keith’s laughter was genuine, and Lance liked hearing it. For some reason.

They both stood up from the bench at the same time, and Lance wondered if Keith was practicing some Jedi mind trick on him or something. 

“Well, just know something,” Keith began, gently taking the flower out of Lance’s hand.

Lance frowned but listened to Keith anyway. “Yeah?”

There was a soft pressure in his hair, and Lance took a minute to process what had just happened. Did Keith…put the flower in his hair?

“Whenever you’re ready, whether it be a year from now or ten more,” Keith said, moving a piece of hair out of Lance’s face. “I’ll be waiting right there for you, for the time that you’re ready to give someone a chance.”

Keith left right after he said that, but it took Lance nearly ten minutes to process what he said.

Did he hear that right? Is he misinterpreting Keith’s words, or is he just now understanding them?

That could’ve meant anything, his mind unhelpfully told him, but Lance, for the first time ever, did not think that was the case. 

Lance sat back down on the bench, leaving the flower in his hair. For some reason or another, he liked having it there.

Chapter Text

If Lance is being completely, truthfully honest with himself, he has absolutely no idea why that old memory came to mind or why he cares about it so much.

He doesn’t know why that memory popped up whenever he invited Keith to hang out in the library, nor does he know why he even asked Keith in the first place. Lance was tired, yet he still found a reason to hang out with Keith for just a bit longer.  

Lance watches Keith, who’s currently passed out on the floor with a book covering his face. He fell asleep maybe thirty minutes after they entered the library and has been snoring away ever since.

He brings his knees up to his chest, not averting his eyes from his sleeping friend. Lance is feeling very conflicted as of right now, and he doesn’t want to be. There are more important things to worry about than this . He swore to himself that he wouldn’t think about that kind of stuff. He won’t even put a name or title to it .

Lance sighs and decides to go on a hunt for a blanket. He wants to get a few hours of sleep before meeting with everyone tomorrow, and he feels utterly exhausted. His eyes droop every few seconds, and he feels a little light-headed. Maybe he’ll grab a few blankets and make a fort with Keith in the library. Yeah, that sounds comfy enough.

He stands up, despairing at the tiring motion, before turning and walking out of the library. 

Lance stops in his tracks when he realizes he’s not alone in the hallway. “Kolivan?”

“I did not realize you were still awake at this time, Lance,” Kolivan’s voice is doubtful, like he’s nervous about being caught doing something he shouldn’t. 

“I could say the same for you,” Lance says, crossing his arms. He leans against a wall, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be at your base right now? What are you doing wandering around the ship while everyone’s asleep?”

Kolivan’s eye twitches slightly. “If you must insist, I was actually looking for you. I figured we needed to talk, whether you were asleep or not,” He says roughly, as if he’s irritated at Lance’s attitude.

Lance holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Let’s have a chat then, shall we?”

After covering Keith up with a blanket, Lance finds himself in the kitchen with Kolivan, both of them with a cup of Altean coffee in hand. “So, where should we start?” Lance asks, putting on a nervous grin.

Kolivan tilts his head at this as if the answer should be obvious. “Well, should we start with the question of how this happened? Do you know how this happened?”

Lance nods, sighing into his cup of coffee. This is going to be a long night. “Yeah, and it’s gonna sound kinda weird, but try to reserve judgment until I finish telling my side, okay?”

For the first time ever, Lance sees Kolivan shrug. “Alright.”

Lance takes two hours to answer that question, beginning from the last moment in the previous timeline all the way until now. Kolivan had stayed straight-faced the whole time, only really emoting whenever Lance had mentioned Clotho.

“You did not think to involve them or their planet in the war? Would they not have been helpful?” Kolivan asks, and Lance realizes that he has a point. Sure, he had contemplated it from time to time, but he had been afraid of that plan backfiring.

“Look, man,” Lance starts, refilling his cup with more coffee. “I’m just as confused about this whole ordeal as you are, okay? There are so many scenarios and possible plans in my head that it makes it hard to think straight. One wrong move from me, and everyone dies. If I involve the person who helped me, and they die, what’s to say that their death won’t just send us back into the future, or worse? What if it erases reality altogether? What if–”

Kolivan holds up a hand. “Alright. I get it. However, I do ask that when you see them again, please try to keep a level head and ask these crucial questions. If this person is as important as you say they are, they could prove to be a very, very powerful ally. Even more so, the other races that inhabit that planet. They could be beneficial on the rebellion side of things.“

Kolivan is making good points, but Lance’s mind is running rampant again. “I don’t know when I’ll see them again, though,” Lance worries, and Kolivan frowns, which isn’t anything new, really, but it does make Lance feel disappointed in himself. More so than usual, anyway.

“It sounds like you usually find them in crowded places, correct? We can stage a situation where you find yourself in a crowded location and see if they show up, yes?” Kolivan suggests.

 Lance scrunches his nose. “That feels like lying, and it’s making more situations where people could possibly get hurt,” Lance says, and Kolivan massages his temples. 

“I know the Blade of Marmora preaches that we don’t take risks, but this is different, Lance.”

“Well, yeah, I’m not part of the Blade, so it’s fine if I do it, right?” Lance says bitterly.

“That is not what I am implying, Lance. I am saying that things are going to happen. People will die regardless of your choices, no matter how much you don’t want them to. And I know you mean well, but some people are meant to die, Lance. I won’t say it’s for the greater good because that’s simply not true in most cases. It’s because life isn’t exactly fair.”

Lance feels his eyes watering and blinks any possible tears away, choosing instead to pour himself another cup of coffee. 

“Also, I would refrain from any more coffee after that cup. Too much Altean coffee can result in a case of the droolies,” Kolivan warns, using air quotes around the last word.

Lance raises an eyebrow. Kolivan shrugs. “It is simply what Coran told me.”

Yeah, that sounds right.

“Back on topic,” Kolivan continues. “I think you should contact this person as soon as possible, just to see their stance on this matter.”

“That’s another thing, though,” Lance starts. “They’ve said before that they’re not supposed to interfere too much.”

“They answer your questions, and you said they took care of that Baku worm back when you were all separated, yes?” Kolivan is confused, and for a good reason.

“So, why can’t they at least be an ally who shows up to Coalition meetings?” Oh, Lance is going to have a giant list of questions to ask Clotho when he finds them again, and he’s afraid of the answers he’ll receive in return.

“Please,” Kolivan says, and Lance looks up. “Do not think I am ungrateful for their help. I truly appreciate this second chance they’ve given us. However, I am a bit confused about their motives. Call it me being cautious, if you will.”

Lance nods. “I’m sure they’ll understand.” Then he pauses. “So, what’s the bigger picture here? Are there more Blade members who remember? Are any plans going to change? Is there–” Lance gets cut off again by a raised hand, and he blushes out of embarrassment. “Sorry,” He quietly mumbles, but Kolivan has a slight smile on his face.

“Those are excellent questions and ones I certainly have answers to. Our spy, Thace, is being prudent this time and, hopefully, won’t be found by the Druids before the big battle.”

Kolivan pauses, his smile fading. “Speaking of the big battle,” He looks at Lance. “Have you found any way to save Shiro from his fate yet?”

“Nothing concrete, no. I was thinking of more shields, but I’m just not sure how much help that’ll be. I still don’t know what even caused his death in the first place. Because, if he died, why didn’t any of us?”

Kolivan is silent. He doesn’t know the answer either, and that’s frustrating to Lance. “That is indeed the question. I speculated interference from the witch or even the Druids, but nothing solid. There was simply nothing left behind after that battle, not even a–” Kolivan cuts himself off.

Lance knows what he was going to say and doesn’t address it. “Has Thace sent any information that says anything about Kuron?” The name only sends shivers down Lance’s spine.

Kolivan shakes his head. “No, though I don’t doubt that they would be working on it this early. Hopefully, not many Galra in the Empire’s ranks know what’s happening.”

Lance scoffs. “Knowing our luck, the universe wouldn’t make things that easy. Something’s going to sucker-punch us; I just know it,” Lance says, feeling a permanent frown forming.

“I am not one to usually say this, but please try to remain positive.”

Something about that sentence makes Lance want to laugh. “No promises, but I’ll try my best.”

Kolivan’s smile returns before eventually vanishing once again. “The bigger picture,” He starts. “We’re not completely sure what to do besides avoiding unnecessary death. As you said, we could change our plans and make things easier for us, but that might also give Zarkon or his witch another opportunity we wouldn’t see coming. It’s worrying.”

Lance sighs. “This whole situation is messed up, but there has to be a way to make things better for everyone. If I’d known this was going to happen, I would’ve done more research before I got sent back or something .”

Kolivan shakes his head. “Something tells me that this kind of situation doesn’t come to people who know what they’re doing. I have watched a few of your Earth movies and noticed that this is the main conflict of most of those films.”

Lance can’t argue with that logic, mainly because he knows it’s true.

“I think our best bet,” Lance decides, placing his empty coffee cup into the sink with jittery hands, “–is to keep making changes but make them small.”

Kolivan’s expression suggests that Lance elaborates on this, and he obliges.

“It reminds me of something Coran said before. Or maybe it was Clotho? Anyway, they mentioned that too much change could lead to the universe doling out punishment.”

Kolivan raises his nonexistent eyebrows. “Punishment?”

“Yeah. Y’know how I befriended Keith earlier than I should have? Or how Shiro got married to someone else? Maybe even how I didn’t catch Allura when she fell out of the pod? Or, it could’ve also been keeping everyone together and in one room back when the Castleship was malfunctioning, not to mention killing Sendak–”

Kolivan clears his throat. “Any of those could have done it,” He says, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “What I’m asking about is the punishment the universe gave you?”

“Oh, well, I almost died when Sendak invaded the Castle. I was in worse shape than I was last time. I’ve also gotten pretty scuffed up on a few missions, had an allergic reaction, and got a concussion, but it’s whatever.”

Kolivan looks slightly disturbed by Lance’s carefree attitude. Lance has learned not to think about his near-death experiences anymore, as he knows he probably has a few more to go before he can genuinely dwell on them. “Would small changes not result in any injuries similar to those you’ve experienced?”

Lance shrugs. “I mean, I’ll probably stub my toe or bump my head from time to time, but I definitely wouldn’t mind. The only thing that worries me is the universe punishing other people instead.”

Kolivan looks confused. “Are you talking about the incident with Shay?”

Lance nods. “Yeah. She didn’t pass out in the last timeline, but in this one, she did. She’s alright, thank goodness, but it still scared the hell out of me.”

“Now that I know, many instances have occurred for me lately that match what we are discussing.”

That gives Lance a greater sense of worry. “Like what?”

“Recently, a few members, such as Ulaz and Antok, have gotten beaten up more on the past few missions I’ve sent them on. I don’t recall that happening in the last timeline.”

“Ulaz and Antok both died last time, didn’t they?” Lance inquires but still feels weird saying the word “died.” 

“They did. And while their deaths are avoidable now that I know the facts, I still worry that something else could take their lives.”

That’s a reasonable thing to be worried about. It brings other people to Lance’s mind who died in the last timeline, one of those being Allura. Even if he stops her from sacrificing herself, what’s to say she won’t die in another way?

Okay, he’s got to keep a way better eye on her than he has been. 

“That’s true,” Lance agrees, his voice small.

Kolivan shakes his head as if he’s ushering any evil thoughts away. “So, we have agreed on a plan?”

Lance doesn’t feel like they did, but he supposes the barebones plan they have settled on is better than nothing.

Kolivan takes the time to repeat it. “We’ll play along with how the story is supposed to go but make minor changes along the way.”

“Does saving our teammates from certain death count as a minor change?” Lance asks rhetorically, and Kolivan sighs.

“Not exactly, but that might just be one of the many situations where we’ll have to take risks. I hate taking risks, but if it can save lives, I suppose I can make an exception. We’ll just have to be prepared for the consequences.”

Lance can get behind that.

“And if you’re planning on making any major changes, please let me know ahead of time, so I can prepare. This will go both ways,” Kolivan instructs, and Lance finds that fair. Seeing someone closer to all of this talking sense makes him feel a lot better. 

“Okay,” Lance nods. “Let me know if anything comes up on the Kuron front. That’s one of the major changes I want to make.”

“Duly noted. And if you’re truly deadset on saving Shiro and Allura, I will use my connections to see if there’s anything that might be of use to you,” Kolivan states, and Lance feels like a significant weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “I shall take my leave now before everyone wakes up. I will see you soon, Lance. So, please try to remain safe from any life-or-death situations, alright?”

Lance makes an empty promise not to and leaves it at that. He doesn’t really have control over that, but he’ll try.

Kolivan exits the room using long, quick strides, and Lance is subtly reminded of the older Keith, who walks almost the same way. 

In an instant, Lance is alone in the kitchen, all mussed up hair and jittery hands. He shouldn’t have drunk so much coffee. He is going to be severely too amped up to sleep.

“Oh, Lance? You’re already up?” Shiro’s voice comes from behind him, and Lance turns around, surprised to see that everyone is already up and they are currently giving him confused stares.

Lance resists the urge to yawn and nods. “Yeah, totally. I would offer you guys coffee, but I kinda drank it all.”

Keith’s eyes widen. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that. You didn’t sleep a wink, did you?”

Lance shrugs, giving Keith his answer.

Hunk yawns. “Sorry to interrupt, but how about I make some breakfast? Lance, after you eat, try to get a thirty-minute nap in or something, okay?”

Lance shakes his head. “That’ll only make it worse. I’ll just tough it out, I guess.”

Pidge scoffs. “If you pass out during any of the meetings today, Allura will tear you a new one. Y’know that, right?”

Lance waves that thought away. “It’ll be fine. Have some faith in me, will you?”

Shiro laughs. “Alright, everyone. While Hunk cooks, let’s go over the plan for today,” He suggests, and everyone sits down in their respective seats. Shiro goes into teacher mode and quizzes everyone on what they’ll say and how they’ll act. 

Hunk’s the only one who answers a few questions wrong, and that can be excused because he dropped three space pancakes when Shiro asked him a question. 

Lance finds that funny, considering Hunk will grow to be one of the best diplomats on their team, only after Allura and possibly Shiro. Keith and Pidge are more introverted, and Lance doesn't exactly consider himself to be very charismatic. That was only an act he put on, and he only did it to flirt with girls. How naive he had been.

“Allura caught us this morning and suggested we split up into teams to meet them. What do you guys think?” Shiro asks, and there are a few mumbles from everyone. 

“There might be a few skeptics who wouldn’t believe we’re Voltron unless they see all of us together,” Lance says, clearly thinking about the Taujeerians. He remembers their leader, Baujal, saying something off-handed about being more comfortable if all five paladins were present, but he doesn’t exactly think that would be a deal breaker. 

“That’s a good point,” Pidge mutters. “There might also be a few offended that not all of us could show up. We don’t know how they feel about all of us yet.”

“That’s true,” Shiro agrees. “Well, then. It’s going to be a busy day for all of us, so try to get a few Zs in wherever you can. I’m talking to you, Lance,” Shiro says pointedly, and there are a few laughs in the room.

Lance finds that he prefers this light-hearted teasing compared to being called “dumb” every other day. It makes him feel a little lighter.

He does a little salute to acknowledge Shiro’s words. “Yessir.”

Breakfast eventually gets served, and Lance promptly passes out after he finishes. Shiro had reassured him before he closed his eyes that they technically still had two hours before meeting the Olkari, and Lance was going to take whatever sleep he could. It’s not like he really had a choice, considering he knows at least one person would be pestering him to take a nap.

Those two hours pass by in a flash, and Lance is up and in uniform by the time the Castleship rolls up to Olkarion. Lance tries not to nod off as he listens to his friends talking. Hunk’s trying to convince Shiro and Allura that he could’ve made snacks for the Olkari so they would like them better, but Allura is arguing back about how the Olkari might think they’re being poisoned.

Lance has to fight not to raise an eyebrow at that.

Keith and Pidge are talking with Kolivan, who has given Pidge multiple files of prisoners the Empire has enslaved. Unfortunately, even with Kolivan’s connections, there’s still no info on Matt. Pidge, sadly, was expecting this and is instead inquiring about the Blade’s technology. Keith seems to be there for a different reason, as he asks about his mother, and Kolivan looks split in the middle.

Lance thinks about saving Kolivan but knows how suspicious and rude that would look to just barge in on the conversation. Kolivan also deprived him of sleep, so Lance might still be slightly annoyed about that.

He can save himself.

Lance averts his gaze and walks up to Coran, who’s currently talking to the mice about getting them long overdue haircuts. The mice look ecstatic at this.

“How much longer til we reach Olkarion?” Lance asks, and Coran spins around, smiling at the sight of Lance.

“We’ll be there in a matter of doboshes,” Coran answers. His eyes scan over the other paladins, and he begins to frown. “Nothing bad is going to happen here, is it?” He asks quietly, and Lance hums.

“Nothing bad should happen there. But, y’know how the universe likes jokes,” Lance answers back just as quietly, maintaining a calm expression. He doesn’t know why Coran is growing so bold as to inquire about the past in front of the others like this, but Lance can probably just break it down to Coran just being nervous.

“So no promises then,” Coran says tiredly, and Lance nods back.

“Pretty much.”

Lance contemplates asking Coran what’s wrong, but decides to save that conversation for another time. Coran walks off towards Allura, the four Altean mice balancing themselves on his shoulders. They all look worried, and Lance makes it a priority to talk to Coran later. 

“We’re almost there, everyone! Now, please, remember when we get to each of these meetings to behave and not say anything inappropriate!” Allura commands, and there are varying tones of agreement throughout the room. Keith and Pidge are the only ones who look less than enthusiastic, but at least they look willing to get it over with.

This is going to be a long day.

The general meeting with the Olkari was as easy as Lance had expected. No negotiations had to be made, nor did conditions have to be met. The Olkari were pretty chill, which isn’t new, but Lance expected at least one thing to go wrong.

The Olkari did host for lunch, which consisted of foods that Lance had never tried before. And while they didn’t look pleasing to the eye, they tasted alright. 

Pidge got along great with Ryner, and Lance pretended not to notice when she vanished for half an hour with a few of the Olkari. Since they didn’t have to take down that awful cube thing, Pidge still hasn’t accessed the full potential of the Green Lion, which could complicate things later if she hasn’t profoundly bonded with her Lion yet.

Lance doesn’t doubt that Ryner will help Pidge unlock that potential, but he can’t help feeling worried. After his chat with Kolivan, he finds himself more on edge. 

After lunch, the Olkari make a deal to build the teledauv if they acquire the necessary materials, which is the same as last time. They still need a lot of scaultrite and Slav to top things off, plus a Balmeran crystal. Hunk visibly lightens up at the mention of going back to the Balmera. 

While Lance is alone, Kolivan walks up, trying to look casual. He’s holding a cup of punch in his hand, and Lance wants to laugh at how out of place the guy looks. “I figured that they would show up here,” Kolivan mutters.

“Clotho?” Lance mumbles back, and Kolivan nods once. “That would be too easy. I’d probably have better luck finding them during a mission than somewhere convenient,” Lance says bitterly, and he feels a possibility start to form. 

“Well, that’s good luck because it seems you have quite a list of missions coming your way,” Kolivan answers amusedly, and Lance frowns. 

“That’s an understatement.”

After the meeting with the Olkari, everyone’s back on the Castleship and on the way to Taujeer. Or a nearby moon close to Taujeer, anyway. It seems they didn’t get robbed by the Galra this time, which is good, but it does lead to bad thinking. If they didn’t rob the Taujeerians, then what exactly was that specific Galra commander doing at that time? Were they robbing someone else or working on something more substantial?

Lance is going to get an aneurysm one of these days; he just knows it.

Pidge vanishes off to her Lion’s hangar, influencing Shiro to tell everyone to do the same and bond with their Lions. Lance has that in the bag, and Keith doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, either. Hunk looks a bit disinterested in the notion, but does it anyway. Shiro looks like he’s about to follow his own instructions, but Allura stops him, claiming that she and Kolivan need him for something important. If Lance could make a guess, then they’re probably putting together the big plan.

Yeah, Lance will let those guys dwell on it while he spends some time with Blue. If he’s correct, he’s not going to be able to pilot Blue anymore in as little as three or four months. He wants to spend as much time with her as he can. 

He enters her hangar and sits on the floor in front of her like it’s routine. That familiar cool, rushing sensation enters his mind, and Lance feels a little better.

Before we start, may I ask you a question?

Lance has a bad feeling about this. “Go ahead,” He manages to say.

Are you still in denial?

“Denial about what?” He answers smoothly and hears Blue make a “tsk” sound. 

That answers enough. I assure you, my star, that there is no shame in these feelings.

Lance scoffs. This isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he thought of bonding with Blue. He was hoping for a meditation session or something. 

I am only kidding. 

“Mhmm, sure you are,” Lance replies skeptically, crossing his arms and squinting his eyes at her. She only laughs in response. His eyes catch on a few scratches along her frame that he missed the last time he fixed her up. He supposes that can be what he does for the next few hours. 

He breaks out a few tools and gets to work, venting to her about all his recent thoughts. She listens, not giving her input until he’s done with a particular subject; for that, he’s grateful. She’s a great listener.

“I’m gonna miss you,” He says out loud.

I know. I will miss you, too. 

“Would not switching Lions mess up the timeline a lot, you think?”

Now, Lance. We are not going to talk that way.

“I’m serious, Blue. Maybe Allura will be more worthy of piloting the Red Lion this time around than I am, y’know?”

Why are you thinking this way?

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. Just spitballing, I guess. I mean, is there a really, really good reason it wouldn’t work?”

There are quite a few.

“Please enlighten me.”

Blue sighs, and Lance knows he’s in for a lecture.

I know this will be hard to believe, but we Lions do not choose who we bond with. We simply connect to the paladin we relate to the most.

Lance raises an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

Yes. Take us two, for example. We are both rather laid back, but we are fair. I also hope I am not bragging when I say we are both rather warm-hearted. 

Lance laughs slightly at Blue’s tone but can see what she’s saying. Kind of.

We have also experienced significant losses. You, with your father and a few other names I do not want to mention, and I, with my previous paladin. 

Shiro and Black both have grave problems with Zarkon.

Keith and Red both have serious abandonment issues.

Pidge and Green are both in pursuit of greater knowledge, no matter the cost, and I mean that in a way that can be both good and bad.

Hunk and Yellow are both very homesick, although only one has a home to return to.

There’s silence, and Lance isn’t sure how to continue after this.

“You really just called us all out like that, huh?”

My apologies. But you understand what I mean, right? After the battle with Zarkon and Keith getting accepted by Black, you and Red will be far more compatible than you and I. Allura and I will be more similar. 

“Are you just flat-out saying I have abandonment issues?”

To put it mildly, yes.

After the not-so-called-for therapy session with Blue, Lance returns to the bridge when Coran calls for all the paladins.

“You alright?” A voice comes from beside Lance, and he looks over to see Keith staring at him.

“Yeah, just thinking,” Lance answers, and Keith gives him a skeptical look. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Lance replies and pretends not to notice Keith’s silent question for him to elaborate. Lance is not elaborating. Almost everyone in this room would get their feelings hurt if he did.

Keith hums, and a part of Lance wishes Keith would drop it. They both don’t say anything else and wait for further instructions from Allura.

They manage to find the Taujeerians, who were, as Lance predicted, on a moon close to Taujeer. 

The Taujeerians were relatively easy to convince to make an alliance and were delighted to see all five paladins in the same place. That’s all Lance can say about them, as they don’t show many other personality traits other than being sassy with Hunk when he asked them why they sounded so robotic.

“I was just wondering. It didn’t sound that bad, did it?” 

Lance pats Hunk on the shoulder. “Not to me, personally. I would refrain from asking any questions you’re unsure about. For the foreseeable future.”

“That’s fair,” Hunk says, looking crestfallen. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this whole diplomacy thing, man,” He whines, and Lance shakes his head.

“Dude, this is, like, the second diplomacy meeting you’ve ever been to. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’ll get there,” Lance reassures.

“Easy for you to say, Mister I-can-flirt-myself-out-of-any-situation,” Hunk says bitterly, and Lance pauses.

“I don’t remember flirting with anyone,” He says oddly, trying to recall if he did flirt with anyone. Contrary to popular belief, flirting does not come naturally to Lance. He puts up a mask, rolls with it, and then takes it off when it’s no longer needed. He hasn’t put on that mask in a long time.

Hunk gets that thousand-yard stare again, and Lance is now wondering if his friend is bound to have a stroke at this rate. “That’s right,” Hunk says slowly. “You didn’t flirt with anyone; I–I just, I don’t know why I said that, man. I’m sorry.”

Hunk shakes his head and walks away, and Lance feels a cold numbness in his heart. Was that truly how Hunk thought of him back then? He supposes he could understand. He never told Hunk that the flirting was just a front and that it wasn’t how he usually acted in the last timeline. Lance just let people think what they wanted and didn’t think any more about it. Maybe a part of him always thought that Hunk secretly understood, but judging by Hunk’s comment, that obviously wasn’t true.

Don’t go hurting your own feelings, he tells himself. 

Hunk may have had his wires crossed, but his apology after he said it indicates that he felt terrible for even thinking it. That’s how Lance is going to interpret it, at least. He knows Hunk isn’t mean, but he can overthink and get especially overwhelmed. 

The meeting ends, and Taujeerians wave goodbye to the Castleship as it launches. “Our last stop will be Puig,” Allura announces. “Then, we will be done for the day.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Hunk says, slumping tiredly over Pidge, who struggles to hold him up. “I just wanna hop into bed and catch some Zs.”

Shiro lets out a laugh, although it sounds a bit forced. “We’ll only have a day or two to rest before we get to work on the master plan, so after this last meeting, we all need a good night’s rest. And I mean everyone,” Shiro says, looking pointedly at Lance, and Lance nods. He’s definitely planning on it.

Puig is where things start out a little crazy.

For example, as soon as everyone exited the Castleship and entered the Puig Castle, Lance was immediately addressed as the “Red Paladin.”

He laughs nervously, pointing to his armor color. “No–no, I’m the Blue Paladin,” Lance corrects, although he can’t keep the slight tremor out of his voice. Is a random Puigian really going to blow his cover?

“I wouldn’t sweat it,” Hunk whispers in his ear. “Maybe they’re just colorblind?”

Lance nods his head a tad too quickly, glad for Hunk’s excuse. “That sounds legit. Let’s just go.”

After that little mistake, the general meeting goes relatively smoothly. Still, there are quite a few Puigians who mistake Lance for the Red Paladin, and Lance has to wonder seriously if they really are colorblind or if that many of them just remember.

Thankfully, most of these mistakes aren’t made in front of the others, which only grants Lance a little relief. His worry primarily stems from the Puigians themselves either not knowing the situation or just not caring. 

Lance shakes his head as he exits the main room, hoping to just sneak back to the Castleship as discreetly as possible and excuse himself later. He knows it’s a bad idea, but there’s not really a way he can keep dealing with being called the “Red Paladin.” It’s a constant, stark reminder that the timeline may not change and that history will just repeat itself, and that Lance won’t be able to save anyone–

“Hello again, Lance.”

Lance stops in his tracks, blinking at the figure in front of him. "Clotho?”

“The one and only. I had a feeling you needed to speak with me."

Lance scoffs. “Uh, yeah. That’s the understatement of the year.”

Clotho nods their head and steps to the side, holding an arm out as if to gesture for Lance to walk beside them. “If my intuition is correct, we have about an hour before the others truly notice your absence and about thirty more minutes before they start to get worried.”

Lance goes along with this, staying silent for a few minutes to get his questions straight. He wasn’t exactly sure how long it would be until he got a chance to talk to Clotho, and now that they are standing right beside him, his mind has gone blank. 

He thinks back to his conversation with Kolivan and starts from there.

“Do you want to join the Voltron Coalition?”

Clotho simply raises their eyebrows. “I thought you would never ask. Now, you do know I myself cannot interfere in any major decisions you and your teammates are supposed to make, correct?”

Lance nods. He felt that would be the case and didn’t see a problem with it. 

“Now, for those who reside on Zestrora, while I cannot speak for them, I am sure that some of them would prefer to play a bigger role in the war. I will talk to them when I get back, and we can go from there.”

“I have another question, although it’s a little on the dark side,” Lance begins, and Clotho side-eyes him.

“What is it?”

“If you were to die, would that affect anything spell-wise?”

“No. If I were to die, nothing would change. The spell would still remain in place, although we obviously wouldn’t be able to meet anymore. I hope you would mourn me at least a little bit, though,” Clotho says in an amused tone.

“Of course I would. It was just a hypothetical, that’s all,” Lance reassures, but now there’s now a small ounce of worry in his heart. While he had only met them a few times, he had grown a little fond of them. He also owes them a lot, considering they sent him back in time just because they felt bad, so he feels sincere gratitude towards them. 

Another question comes to mind.

“Is it possible for me to actually change anything? Or will the same people who died last time still die, just in a different way?”

Clotho stops at that, their golden eyes glimmering with worry.

“Of course; otherwise, there would be no point in my sending you back. You’ve already changed quite a bit; you do know that, do you not? Some people may die who did not before, and others may live who died before. Either way, the universe always tries to find balance. You might find that if you save a good person from certain death, the universe might possibly choose to take a bad person in their place.”

“Now, does that always work? No, it does not. But you should not let these worries keep you from doing the job you were sent here to do. It is scary and dangerous, and I wish I could do more to help you, but this is all up to you now and the other few who remember.”

Those words manage to get through to Lance, and he nods slowly, digesting Clotho’s words with difficulty. 

“And if it ever gets to be too much, do not forget that you can let your teammates remember the past, too, should you wish it. I am sure that, while it would be stressful, it would also take a great burden off your shoulders.”

“What if that lets the bad guys remember, too? Zarkon, Haggar, and all the others? Would that really be worth the risk?”

“That occurrence has a very, very low chance of happening, but I ultimately leave that choice up to you. I cannot tell you what to do.”

Lance balks at this. “If I let the others remember, that could actually happen?”

Clotho sighs. “As I said, there is a low chance of it happening, but yes, if somehow, my magic was not strong enough to seal their minds for good.”

Well, that doesn’t make Lance feel better. 

“I know that is not what you wanted to hear, but it is the truth. I wish I could tell you with certainty that it would not happen, but that would be lying, and I only lie if it is in others’ best interests,” Clotho says, an unidentifiable tone in their voice, and Lance knits his eyebrows together. What was that supposed to mean?

He decides to change the topic just to see something.

“Did you ever find out about my dream situation with Shiro? I told you about it during our first conversation,” Lance inquires, and Clotho’s face stays neutral aside from their right eye just barely twitching.

Lance recognizes a tell for lying when he sees one, but doesn’t comment on it.

“No, but I am still looking for the answer to that question. Hopefully, I will have an answer for that the next time we meet, although that may be a while from now.”

Now, Lance does tilt his head at this. “What do you mean?”

Clotho clears their throat. “Aside from any future Coalition meetings I may have to attend in the future, I am going A.W.O.L. due to some personal matters. The next time we meet might be only a few days before you all head back to Earth, although I cannot estimate when that will be. That part is sort of up to you.”

Lance frowns at this but doesn’t say anything else. 

“Any more questions? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

That does bring a smile to Lance’s face, but he continues to stay silent, and Clotho nods. “Then I shall take my leave. Stay safe, Lance.”

Like the time before in the Space Mall, Clotho vanishes into a cloud of golden glitter, and Lance feels that they were telling the truth when they said it would be a while before they saw each other again. Maybe then, Lance will find out what they’re lying about. 

Luckily for Lance, he was only gone for about thirty minutes, meaning no one noticed his disappearance. 

He makes it back to the main room and tries to avoid talking to any Puigians for simple fear that they’ll rat him out. The Puigians are polite, he gives them that, but they are rather loud and have no tact for keeping a secret. Lance will give them the benefit of the doubt, but he doesn’t want to be called the “Red Paladin” anymore tonight. 

Lance eventually finds Keith and Pidge among the sea of people and stands beside them. When Keith finally looks over at him, Lance smiles, pretending he’s been there the whole time. 

“Where have you been?” Keith asks, his eyes narrowed, and Lance feigns ignorance.

“I just went for a walk around the castle. It’s huge, so it took me a minute,” He shrugs.

“You went exploring without me?” Keith pouts, and Lance stifles a laugh.

“My exploring was kinda unintentional. I was just trying to find the bathroom.”

Pidge sighs, joining the conversation. “Ah, space bathrooms. 0/10, would not recommend.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think they’re that bad. I’d give them a solid 8/10.”

Shiro comes up from behind. “Okay, are we seriously that bored that we’ve started rating bathrooms ?”

Lance nods. 

Shiro shakes his head in disbelief, but he’s smiling, so he clearly finds it funny. “I think that’s our cue to get out of here. After Allura gets done talking to the leader, we’ll be well on our way back to our beds. Sound good?”

They all nod in response, and Lance looks around. “Where’s Hunk?”

“The Puigians talked him into cooking them a five-course meal,” Pidge answers, adjusting her glasses. “He should be done in a few minutes.”

Lance can only hope the Puigians don’t make any unnecessary comments to Hunk and awaits his return. Hunk appears before them after a few minutes, wearing a giant grin on his face and sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Cooking for people makes you that happy, huh?” Pidge comments, and Hunk nods.

“It does. It really, really does.”

Back on the Castleship, everybody is about to start trudging along to their rooms when Allura stops everyone. To her credit, she looks apologetic, but her command remains firm. “We need to discuss the plan at least once with everyone, so we can pick out any errors or flaws with it. Understood?”

Everyone sighs and agrees anyway, and they listen as Shiro, Kolivan, and Allura take turns describing the plan. There are minor changes from Kolivan’s side of things, but nothing too major that would affect the overall plan. Lance guesses that Kolivan is taking a lot of precautions to prevent the amount of death incoming, and he doesn’t blame him in the slightest. 

Then, Allura says something that takes him by surprise.

“Kolivan also brought up that Voltron itself needs protection. Pidge, when we eventually find Slav, you are going to work together with him and Coran to replicate a shield like the one the Castleship has.”

Pidge raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Indeed. I have a feeling Zarkon will play dirty, and I want to avoid any horrific possibilities he has in store for us. So, I figure we should buff up our protection on all fronts. Does that sound plausible?”

Pidge nods excitedly, her eyes full of surprise, and Lance already knows that the poor girl isn’t getting any sleep for the next few nights.

Lance shoots Kolivan a thankful look because he had absolutely no idea how he was going to bring the shield idea up any other time. Better it comes from Kolivan than him.

“Now, here is how the rest of the plan is going to come to fruition. We’ll all need to split up in order to complete these tasks in a timely manner. Hunk and Keith, you two will be in charge of gathering the scaultrite.”

“Oooh, does that mean another trip to the Space Mall?” Hunk asks, and Coran steps in to answer.

“The amount of scaultrite we need won’t be found in any regular Unilu shop. You’ll need to go into the belly of a Weblum in order to obtain the amount we’ll need.”

Hunk frowns, and Keith pats him on the shoulder.

Allura steps up to announce her own task. “I will be going to the Balmera to obtain a crystal, at least one large enough to power up the Teledauv we’re going to build.”

Hunk’s frown gets even deeper if that’s possible. “I wish I could go,” Lance faintly hears him mutter.

“Shiro, Pidge, and Lance, you three will infiltrate Alpha Zarys in order to rescue Slav.”

Kolivan steps in to clarify. “There are five main cells throughout the prison, and the security is top-notch, so I will accompany you three to the base and act as a Plan B in case anything goes wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Shiro says firmly, and that ends that conversation. “Now,” Shiro starts, his voice stern. “I want everyone to get some rest tonight, and I mean it. Pidge, that goes for you, too.”

Pidge groans but reluctantly puts away the notepad she was jotting in. 

“I am going to allow everyone the next quintant to rest and prepare themselves for their missions. Do not waste it,” Allura commands, and everyone restarts their walk back to their rooms. Lance is really starting to feel the sleep deprivation now and hopes for little to no dreams tonight.

He makes it to his room and collapses into bed without changing his clothes. He closes his eyes, and sleep comes immediately.

“Hunk’s proposing to Shay? Already?”

Lance frowned at Keith’s question. “What do you mean, already? They’ve known each other for, like, four years.”

“Yeah, but they’ve only been dating for three months,” Keith pointed out, and while it sounded crazy, it made sense for Hunk and Shay. 

“You know as well as I do that Hunk and Shay always had a little something-something going on,” Lance said, raising his eyebrows. 

“I know, but still. It just seems too soon. You never really know someone until you’ve lived with them for at least a year or two.”

Lance blinked, waiting for Keith to clarify.

“Well, for one, does she know that he snores?”

Lance waved a finger. “He doesn’t snore anymore. He had sleep apnea when he was a teenager.”

Keith rolled his eyes but continued. “Okay. How about…does she know he stays up until ungodly hours of the night working on his cooking?”

Lance nodded. “She sure does. She even stays up with him sometimes to try out new recipes.”

Keith frowned. “Well, does she know that he knits?”

Lance just looked disappointed at this point. “Do you really think Hunk would hide that of all things from her? C’mon, man. Why can’t you accept that they’re perfect for each other?”

Keith sighed. “I don’t know. It just seems…I guess I’m jealous.”

Lance was truthfully surprised. “You? Jealous?”

“Yeah. I mean, that perfect relationship came so easily to Hunk, and I… I’m nowhere near that kinda thing.” Keith looked up suddenly as if remembering where he was. “Don’t get me wrong, I am super happy for Hunk, okay? I just wish I were as lucky as he was, y’know?”

Lance nodded. “No judgment here, dude. This is a judgment-free zone, okay?”

Keith had been sitting on a park bench for the better part of their conversation, and Lance decided right then to sit down beside him. 

It was silent for a few minutes until Keith broke the silence. “Can I ask a personal question? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Lance simply nodded. 

Keith sighed as if he was building up his courage to ask the question. “Did Allura ever know those kinds of things about you? I mean, we all lived together in the Castleship for a while. Did she ever point out those quirky little traits of yours?”

Lance didn’t even have to think. “I don't think so, and if she did, we never talked about it. I'm sure that whatever things she learned about me were because the mice told her. They’re total snitches.”

“Huh.” There was quiet for a little longer until Keith’s phone rang, and he sighed. “That’s probably Kolivan. I need to get back to work. Can you tell Hunk I said congratulations on the engagement and I’ll be back on Tuesday to celebrate?”

“For sure, man. It was good seeing you.”

“Same here.” Keith got up from the bench and answered his phone, not walking away immediately as he talked to Kolivan. Lance gazed at Keith, wondering why his friend wasn’t walking away just yet. Did he have something else to say?

The call ended, and Keith looked at the phone in his hand with annoyance. He turned and looked at Lance, a softer light taking place in his eyes.

“If she paid attention, she would’ve seen that you missed your family a lot and talked about them every chance you got. She would’ve seen the way your eyes sparkled when we landed on that beach planet all those years ago. She would have seen that you ramble when you get nervous and that you always pick at your teeth whenever someone asks you a hard question.”

Keith stopped and sighed again. “If only she saw you through my eyes, huh?”

Keith was gone in an instant before Lance could stop him.

After that day, Keith never brought that conversation up again, and Lance didn't either. Lance chalked it up to Keith just being a good friend and noticing the things that not many people did, but a part of him had a feeling. It was the smallest, tiniest, most insignificant feeling ever, but it almost felt like Keith...

Nah, that couldn't have been it, right?

Chapter Text

For the first time in months, Lance has a nightmare.

It’s not the kind of nightmare where you’re trying to run from something, but your legs can’t seem to move, nor is it the kind where you’re trying to yell as loud as you can, but no sound comes out. It’s not the kind where you’re being kidnapped, and you can’t fight back because your whole body is paralyzed. It also isn’t the kind where you’re trapped deep underwater and you’re unable to breathe any fresh air into your lungs.

It’s a simple one instead, one that he had been expecting for a while now. Nevertheless, it still scares him. 

He’s standing in front of Shiro, whose back is turned. Shiro seems to be staring at something else, paying Lance no mind. Lance yells at him, but Shiro doesn’t react, doesn’t even look back at him. Lance wonders if Shiro can even hear him. They’re surrounded by darkness, so Lance can’t even tell what Shiro is looking at. 

Finally, as if just now hearing him for the first time, Shiro turns around, a worried look on his face. Before he can say anything, two pairs of dark purple hands emerge from the darkness and pull Shiro back into the void. All Lance can do is watch in horror, his feet firmly planted on the ground. His legs don’t want to move, and it feels like his arms are glued to his sides.

Shiro starts screaming, and Lance can’t do anything but sit there and listen to it. He would do anything not to have to go through this.

Lance wakes up suddenly, sitting up in bed and covered in sweat. He’s out of breath, and he can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He’s not usually one to yell when he wakes up from a bad nightmare like that, but judging from how sore his throat is, he can only guess that that’s exactly what he did.

Thank goodness that the Castle’s bedrooms are soundproof.

He trudges his way to the bathroom and takes a short shower to wash the sweat off, trying not to dwell on the bad dream he just had. It had felt like a warning of sorts or a premonition. Lance knows what it’s supposed to represent, and he doesn’t like it.

Lance steps into the shower, choosing not to worry about all of it for at least twenty minutes. He has to go save Slav today with Shiro and Pidge, which will be trouble enough on its own. Maybe he’ll come up with something else with Slav’s help. He did always talk about alternate realities and percentages. 

After his shower, Lance gets dressed in his armor and leaves the room, not quite sure what time it is but still choosing to take his chances. 

He heads towards the training room, wanting to refresh himself on the basics. Don’t get him wrong, he knows how to shoot, and he remembers everything about his bayard to the finest detail. But a part of him can’t help but worry that something is going to go wrong on this next mission. 

Lance can’t determine what it could possibly be, but knows it can’t be anything good.

He reaches the training room and forms his bayard, just wanting to start something simple. He shoots at a few targets and even does a quick level with the Gladiator, but nothing too difficult. 

This doesn’t feel right. Something is telling him that he’s focusing on the wrong things. 

He hears footsteps and turns his head rapidly, but relaxes when he sees who it is. 

“Hey, Coran,” He greets, raising a hand to wave at him.

Coran nods his head. “Hello to you, Lance,” He addresses, his voice taking a formal tone.

Lance quirks an eyebrow at this. “Are you okay? I’ve noticed that you’ve been acting kinda weird lately,” Lance notes, and Coran sighs, bringing a hand up to push his hair back.

“Just a lot of thoughts running through my mind, Lance.” He pauses and then gives Lance a stern look. “Something bad is going to happen during the battle with Zarkon, isn’t it?”

Lance swallows, looking down at the floor. “Yes, if nothing changes.”

Coran closes his eyes, devastated. “I figured as much. There’s this feeling in my heart that won’t go away. It just keeps bugging me.”

Lance sighs, wishing he could give a different answer. He’s hoping with all his heart that Shiro won’t die this time, that he won’t be replaced with Kuron, but there’s really not a lot that he can do about it. He’s trying to drill that last part into his brain, but that won’t stop the feeling of dread that seems to be eating him whole.

“Is Allura going to be alright?” Coran asks, and Lance thinks about how he should interpret this question. 

“Yes, she’ll be fine,” He answers carefully. Coran looks like he doesn’t like that answer, despite nothing being inherently wrong with it, but Lance can determine that Coran has his own doubts.

“What about the others?” Coran inquires, and Lance takes a sharp breath in. He doesn’t know how comfortable he feels with telling the truth. Coran backs off once he notices Lance’s reaction. “Sorry to pry. I was only curious.”

“And worried for Allura. It’s okay,” Lance nods, understanding, trying not to think about why Coran would be worried. Coran is going to figure it out at some point, and until then, Lance is going to feel so, so guilty for not telling him sooner. 

He figures he could just tell Coran and rip the band-aid off, but what if there were consequences for simply telling the truth? It feels like whatever he does, there’s always going to be something that pushes him back, like a kick in the chest. 

Lance looks up at Coran, opening his mouth to tell Coran what he’s been wanting to say for the past few weeks, but he’s interrupted by the sound of sliding doors, and he promptly shuts his mouth. Maybe that was the universe’s way of telling him to shut up before he gets hurt. 

“Sorry,” Shiro starts, looking somewhat guilty. “Was I interrupting something?”

Lance feigns ignorance. “Nah, we were just talking. What’s up?”

Shiro straightens up. “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I could train in the meantime until everyone’s awake.”

Lance tilts his head at this. “What time is it?”

Coran frowns. “By Altean standards, it is the middle of the night. I came to check on you when I saw you in here.”

Well, that’s good to know. 

Lance hums, averting his gaze, but he can feel their worried stares on him. 

“I’m going to get some sleep myself. I think at least one of us should be well-rested for tomorrow,” Coran says decisively, walking out of the training room before Shiro or Lance can stop him.

“Did you try to get any sleep at all?” Shiro asks, his eyes full of concern, and Lance feels a familiar urge to just spill the beans about everything. But that same feeling from before stops him. Would telling Shiro do any good, or would it just make things worse?

“I did, but a nightmare woke me up,” Lance answers truthfully. He finds it easier to be honest with Shiro in this timeline, though that might just be because he’s gotten to know him a little better. Or maybe it’s for a different reason he doesn’t want to think about.

Shiro nods. “That’s part of the reason why I have trouble going to sleep. I have nightmares too,” He says earnestly. It’s silent for a moment, but it’s a comfortable silence, and Lance can only guess the next question Shiro’s going to ask. “Can I ask what your nightmare was about?”

Yep, that’s what he was expecting. He decides to tell the truth because he just feels awful lying to Shiro, especially when the latter looks so concerned. 

“It was about you, actually,” He says, and Shiro’s eyebrows rise. “You were in trouble, and I couldn’t help you. It was awful,” Lance explains shortly, and Shiro pats Lance on the shoulder. It doesn’t do much to help Lance feel better, but he appreciates the gesture.

“I don’t plan to ever put you, or the others, in that situation, okay? I promise,” Shiro says confidently, and Lance feels a stinging sensation in his heart. 

“You can’t promise that so easily,” Lance argues, and Shiro smiles sadly.

“I know,” He admits. “But I’m gonna try to anyway. The last thing I want to do is make you guys worry about me.”

Shiro’s words don’t do anything to quell Lance’s worry; in fact, they only make it worse. “I know that I can’t guarantee anything,” Shiro starts. “But I have a good feeling about this plan. I think things will actually turn out okay, and not to toot my horn, but my intuition is pretty good about this kind of thing.”

Lance does smile at this, but the dread doesn’t leave. He doesn’t think it ever will.

“What about you?” Lance inquires suddenly. He hopes Shiro won’t mind the swift subject change. “What are your nightmares about?”

Shiro pauses at that and looks at the floor as he thinks about his answer. Lance immediately feels bad. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” He reassures, but Shiro shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I think I need to talk about it.” He looks up at Lance, his face twisted uncomfortably, as if even thinking about the subject makes him feel sick. “I think about my time as a prisoner a lot,” Shiro admits, and his left hand begins to shake. His prosthetic arm remains still. “I dream about all the people I killed in the Arena while I was there,” He says, his voice getting thick, and Lance wants to tell him to stop talking about it. But Shiro continues on, clearing his throat before speaking again. “I dream about all the torture they put me through to give me this damn arm,” Shiro says through gritted teeth, and this time, his prosthetic does begin to shake, though it’s more out of anger than distress. “The worst dream of all, though,” Shiro begins. “–Is the one where Adam…” He swallows, getting choked up again. “The worst one is where Adam dies. He’s there, on Earth, fighting against a Galran fleet, and he just dies while I’m off doing God knows what.”

“So,” Shiro sniffs, his eyes watery. “I tend to avoid sleeping whenever the opportunity arises. I did take your advice by the way,” Shiro says, smiling, but it doesn’t feel genuine. He’s changing the subject, and he’s not allowing his tears to fall. “Tiring myself out did help me sleep, but it did nothing for the nightmares.” Shiro bites his lip, his breathing shaky. “I don’t know if they’ll ever stop.”

There’s silence for a few minutes, but then finally, Lance chooses to break it. “Can I hug you?” Lance asks.

Shiro simply nods and accepts Lance’s hug. Shiro is rather tall, so the hug feels kind of awkward, but Lance is giving his all to make Shiro feel even an ounce of comfort. Shiro hugs him back tightly, and Lance realizes sadly that Shiro probably needed this hug. He’s gone over a year without any sort of physical affection from anyone. 

The hug lasts a good long while with neither of them saying anything. Shiro lets out a few shaky breaths, but he doesn’t allow himself to cry. Lance wants to encourage him to cry, just for a moment, but knows that will only make him a hypocrite. Crying doesn’t make everyone feel better; sometimes, it only makes things worse.

After the hug is over, Lance and Shiro sit in the training room and just talk, mostly about nothing and sometimes about anything. Lance can only guess that this is the last time he’ll ever be able to talk to Shiro like this, so he tries to enjoy it. 

The sense of dread in him only breaks his heart.

Later on, when everyone makes it to the bridge, Allura makes a change to the plan that Lance isn’t expecting.

“I believe I should wait to get the crystal from the Balmera until we retrieve the scaultrite and Slav. I have a bad feeling about us all being separated for that long,” Allura excuses, and nobody seems to have a problem with it.

Hunk, in particular, seems ecstatic. “I can finally give Shay my present!” He exclaims.

“Ooohhh,” Pidge teases, but Hunk seems too proud to blush even at her banter. 

“Any reason why you changed your mind about doing all these tasks simultaneously?” Kolivan asks, and Allura simply shakes her head, an unreadable expression on her face.

“I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” Her words are meant to be quiet, but Lance still manages to hear them loud and clear. 

“So, who’s going to head out first?” Keith asks, and Allura straightens up.

“You and Hunk will disembark, and then, Pidge, Lance, and Shiro will head towards Alpha Zarys directly after. I will keep watch outside Zarys just in case anything goes awry.”

Well, hearing even Allura has doubts about this mission just makes Lance feel nervous.

Keith and Hunk get ready, saying their goodbyes and acting like they’re not coming back, which greatly unnerves Lance. “Tell my parents that I love them and that I lied when I said I didn’t eat the Palusami they cooked when I was eight. Tell the–”

“You’re not gonna die, so quit talking that way,” Lance scolds gently, but Hunk’s eyes continue to water anyway.

“Okay,” Hunk relents, but his voice is shaky, which means he’s about to burst into tears again. He wraps Lance in a great bear hug. “That goes for you, too. Don’t die, okay? You’ve been kinda accident-prone lately if you haven’t noticed.”

Lance manages to pat Hunk on the back. “I know. I’ll do my best.”

Hunk ends the hug and gives Lance one more serious look before moving on to the next person. 

Keith walks up to Lance next, an anxious look on his face. “In case I don’t make it back, I wanted to tell you–”

Lance holds up a finger, shaking his head. “Quit acting like you’re gonna die, Mullet. You guys are going to be fine. Whatever you want to say, you can tell me when this is all over, okay?”

Keith looks pained at Lance’s words, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”

Lance pulls Keith in for a hug anyway, trying to convey reassurance and comfort. He doesn’t remember Keith being this worried last time. Whatever. He can’t really be surprised with all the changes the universe has been throwing at him lately. 

He watches Keith and Hunk say the rest of their goodbyes before they take off, leaving Lance with a bitter taste in his mouth. He feels like he’s forgetting something.

Pidge and Shiro tell him to get ready to disembark. Kolivan and Antok are coming on the mission too, which gives them plenty of helping hands for all the prisoners they’re going to rescue. Allura guides the Castleship a good distance away from Alpha Zarys but close enough that they can retreat if anything goes wrong.

Again, this isn’t making Lance feel any better. This all feels like a precursor to disaster.

Lance flies the Blue Lion close to the base, shooting Shiro and Pidge out when directed. Kolivan and Antok stay in Blue with him while they wait for further orders.

The same events from last time play out, with Lance sonic-scanning the base and uploading the data to Pidge so she can shut down the sensors. He flies Blue into the hangar and lands, getting out of the Lion with Kolivan and Antok. 

Having two more people with them on this mission doesn’t necessarily feel like a bad thing, but it does make Lance feel uneasy. 

Pidge goes to the command center while the other four of them split up into teams of two. Antok and Shiro go one way while Kolivan and Lance go another. Shiro tells everyone to be careful and to keep their comms handy just in case.

Kolivan and Lance begin walking, staying awkwardly silent. From this point on in the mission, this will all be new to him. “Try to keep the faith, Lance. Everything will play out the way it’s meant to be,” Kolivan reassures him, and Lance gives him a grateful look.

They take out a few sentries and a couple of drones, keeping an eye out for the Warden from last time. “You think one of the cells has Laika in it?” Lance asks suddenly, and Kolivan frowns.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I forgot you weren’t there. Last time, when there were two cells, one of them had a Yupper named Laika in it. She was the Warden’s pet. Speaking of the Warden, was there any info on who might be running this place?”

Kolivan shakes his head. “There was not any. However, I sincerely doubt that the Warden from last time would still be the same Warden this time. A lot more things have changed than you realize.”

“Well, we won’t know for sure until we see them,” Lance says.

“We’re not going to go look for them, are we?” Kolivan asks, looking a bit alarmed, and Lance shakes his head.

“No, just thinking out loud.”

It’s a very tempting thought, though.

“Lance and Kolivan, you guys are close to one of the–the torture chambers,” Pidge reluctantly says through the comms, her tone anxious.

“Are you saying someone’s in there?” Lance asks, and Pidge sighs.

“Yes. On my cams, it’s showing three sentries and a Druid. It’s up to you whether you want to wait or fight, though I would obviously advise the former.”

“Copy that,” Lance answers and looks at Kolivan. “What do you think?”

“You know how I feel about taking risks,” Kolivan replies gruffly, but he takes his sword out anyway, which lets Lance know his opinion on the matter.

“Okay. Pidge, we’re heading in,” Lance informs, and he hears Pidge splutter.

“Wait, what!? Lance, I wouldn–”

He cuts off the comms, albeit guiltily, and busts into the room with Kolivan at his side. Lance blasts down the three sentries easily while Kolivan rushes at the Druid. He slices and swings skillfully, dodging and rolling when needed. 

Lance lines up his shot, his bayard forming into a sniper rifle. He looks through the scope, trying to find a good opening for a shot. He raises his head once he realizes he can’t and studies the Druid’s moments. With Kolivan’s speed only increasing, the Druid vanishes out of the thin air and always appears to Kolivan’s right every two seconds. It looks like every fourth swing, the Druid appears to his left to catch him off guard. Every tenth swing, he forms behind him to try to deliver a blow.

He follows the movement, slowly lining up his shot now. Lance is aiming behind Kolivan now, waiting for that tenth swing. It happens, and before Lance can second-guess himself, he shoots, catching the Druid right in the head just as he reappears. 

The Druid falls and immediately disappears in a bright blast of energy. Kolivan sighs in relief. “Nice shot. I remember you tend to be pretty good at those,” He remarks, and Lance can only recall the killing of Sendak. Despite everything, Lance still feels horrible taking another life. He knows he shouldn’t, knows that this would only be for the best, but his heart says otherwise.

“Come on, let’s help this young lady out of her seat,” Kolivan says, and when Lance looks over, his eyes widen considerably. 

They were torturing a Galran child.

“I don’t know anything,” The small child whispers repeatedly, and Lance winces at how much blood seems to be coming from her stomach. He undoes the restraints that were keeping the little girl bound to the chair and gently picks her up, flinching when she shrieks in pain.

“This isn’t good,” Lance says, and Kolivan nods, his expression looking pained. 

Lance turns his comms back on to Pidge cursing at him, and he sighs, letting her know he’s alright. “You asshole! You gave me a heart attack pulling that stunt!” Pidge chides but quiets down once she hears the little girl begin to cry. “What’s happened?”

“They were torturing a little girl in here. I’m assuming she’s one of the prisoners,” Lance informs, trying to keep still, so the little girl stops crying. He doesn’t know what to do. 

“Yeah,” Pidge says quietly. “There’s another cell close by you that has an occupant in it. It looks like there’s a kid in there, too.”

“What the hell were they thinking, torturing children? ” Kolivan growls angrily, and Lance shakes his head.

“We’ll find out more about it later. Let’s get these other prisoners out of here first,” He directs and readjusts the child clinging to him. 

“We need to go back for my sister. We can’t leave without my sister!” She cries, and Lance pats her on the back.

“We’re gonna get you and your sister outta here, okay? What’s your name?”

“Shyza,” She answers, holding her small hands to her stomach, and Lance nods.

“Okay, Shyza, we’re gonna help you. I know it’s hard, but we have to stay as quiet as possible,” He instructs, and she nods. “Pidge, can you help us find that other room?” Lance asks.

“Affirmative. Go back into that hallway and turn right. The room you’re looking for isn’t far from where you are now, it’s almost a straight shot,” She replies.

Kolivan and Lance both oblige, with Kolivan keeping a close eye on the child as he leads the way. He asks every thirty seconds how she is doing, and all Lance can say is, “She’s still awake.”

“Can you rescue my dad?” She asks, and Lance frowns.

“Is he in here, too?”

She nods, wincing at the movement. “Yes, but I don’t know where he is. We got separated,” Shyza answers, and Lance notices that her hands are beginning to shake. He needs to put something on that wound of hers, or she might not make it.

“Pidge, how are Shiro and Antok doing?” Lance inquires, and he hears her sigh.

“Shiro has definitely found Slav, that’s for sure.” Lance can only assume that Slav is making Shiro’s life a living hell at the moment, but that’s nothing new.

“Have they found any other prisoners?” Kolivan asks this time, and Pidge hums.

“They found one more that’s unconscious, but he’s alive. I’m near one, too, so after you guys get the other kid, I’ll be on my way to that one.”

“Copy,” Lance replies, and the comms go silent. Lance notices that Kolivan is moving more skittishly than normal and looks down at the little girl in his arms, examining her more thoroughly. 

Despite the wound on her abdomen, she’s covered in scratches and bruises, and the tip of her right ear is missing. Her eyes are drooping like she’s trying to go to sleep, and Lance has to gently tell her to stay awake. She only groans in response, which isn’t a good sign.

They make it to the other room, and Lance follows Kolivan in. “Shy!” Another voice calls out, and Lance sees an even smaller child inside the cell.

“Kolivan, we need to stop this bleeding,” Lance says quietly, and Kolivan nods, taking some gauze out of a little bag on his belt.

“Make it quick. Something tells me we’ll have to make a quick escape.”

Lance lays Shyza down on a nearby bed and puts the gauze on her stomach. She barely cries out, which makes Lance even more worried. She’s bleeding through the gauze faster than Lance thinks is healthy, and he breathes shakily. 

Kolivan picks up the smaller kid and clears his throat. “Lance, we have to go. Maybe the Princess can heal her when we get back to the Castleship.”

Lance nods, but that dread from before the day began is gnawing through him down to his very being. He picks the little girl back up, telling her to press the gauze to her stomach. “Are we going to save my dad?” She asks quietly, and Lance nods.

“Yeah, we’re going to save him.”

She smiles happily at this. “That’s good.”

Pidge gives them a path to follow to get back to the hangar, and they reply that they’re on their way. 

Kolivan leaves the room first, with Lance quickly following behind him. He feels like he’s moving in slow-motion, with blood rushing in his ears and his breathing growing erratic. Lance isn’t sure if he’s imagining it or not, but he thinks he can hear the blood dripping down to the floor as he runs. It can only belong to the young girl in his arms, and he hopes that Allura will be able to help her when they get back to the Castle. Allura brought him back from death once, so surely she can help this girl, right?

They make it back to the hangar in one piece, and Lance rushes into Blue, sitting down in the cockpit seat gently so as not to jostle Shyza too much. 

“How much longer?” Kolivan asks over the comms.

 “We’re almost there!” Shiro answers.

“I’m two minutes away!” Pidge replies, and she seems out of breath. Lance connects to the Castle and is relieved to see Allura answer immediately. “Allura, we’ll be on our way back in a few minutes. We’ve got a few heavily injured here who might need your help,” Lance informs, and Allura nods her expression hardening. 

“I understand. I’ll have Coran prepare some healing pods.”

She hangs up, and Lance feels Shyza clutch to him even more. Lance hugs her back, feeling an immediate attachment to this poor kid. “How’s her sister?” He asks Kolivan, and he hears Kolivan say something, but he can’t register what he’s saying. He can’t register anything except the little girl clinging onto him like a lifeline.

After a few minutes, Shiro, Pidge, and Antok finally make it on board with the prisoners, and Lance takes off like a bat out of hell. He hears Shiro say something, but like with Kolivan, he doesn’t register anything he’s saying. Then he hears Slav and deduces that the two of them must be arguing. 

They make it to the Castleship in a matter of seconds, and the next few minutes are a blur. 

He remembers carrying Shyza out of the Blue Lion, and he remembers giving her to Allura so that she can be healed, but he can’t remember anything after that. 

When he comes back to his senses, he’s sitting in front of a cryo pod. His hearing is still a little in and out, but he can make out words being said to him.

“I’m sorry, Lance.”

Allura is talking to him. She sounds sad.

“I did everything I could, but she lost too much blood.”

Lance numbly nods. That makes sense.

“It was my fault. I should have trained with my magic more, so I could have saved her. I’m so, so sorry.”

That doesn’t seem right. 

He looks up at that, meeting Allura’s eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, Allura.” He says simply, but her eyes water anyway. She looks like she’s been crying already. She sits down beside him, covering her face with her hands. She’s shaky, which means she’s been exerting too much magic.

The blood rushing in his ears finally comes to a stop, and he listens to his surroundings. He thinks he hears Kolivan a few feet behind him, talking to someone, though he can’t discern who he’s talking to.

“I just want to see if they’re okay.”

“No, they’re not okay,” Kolivan answers. “Let both of them be by themselves for a while. I think talking will only make it worse.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Shiro,” Kolivan says, his voice thick with emotion. “When you’re put in this situation, all you can do is blame yourself. When they’re in this state of mind, they’re not going to believe anything anyone has to say.”

Shiro is silent, and Lance thinks that the argument might be over.

“Let me in, so I can make sure they’re not a danger to themselves. I know what that’s like, at least,” Shiro says quietly, and reluctantly, Kolivan steps to the side. 

Lance looks down at his hands when he hears the conversation end and draws in a sharp breath when he sees the amount of blood on him. Galran blood is darker than human blood by a few shades, but it doesn’t mean it’s not unsettling to see. The fact that the blood belonged to a child makes Lance feel even worse.

Without thinking, he hides his face in his hands. He hears Allura quietly crying beside him, and Shiro’s footsteps are getting closer. 

He feels Shiro sit down beside him, but the latter doesn’t say anything. Shiro is a comforting, silent presence. He always has been.

Lance remains unspeaking, closing his eyes and hoping that this is all just a bad dream. He listens to Allura asking Shiro something, but blocks their conversation out, feeling like he’s intruding. 

Shiro’s voice is soft and hushed when he talks to Allura, like a father talking to his child. It both comforts Lance and greatly unsettles him.

After a few more minutes, Allura eventually gets up and leaves, but Shiro stays right by his side. Lance doesn’t know what to say or do except sit there and wither away, but he doubts Shiro would let that happen. 

He hasn’t felt this hopeless in such a long time.

“I heard you were getting along pretty well with Slav,” Lance decides to joke, but his tone is emptier than he was expecting, causing him to cringe internally at himself. 

“If you want me to be honest,” Shiro begins. “He was actually really annoying. He kept talking about alternate realities and drowning,” He sighs like he’s reliving the whole interaction all over again. 

“Sounds rough,” Lance comments, deciding to look up from his hands. He’s staring into space at this point, not knowing where to look.

“Lance,” Shiro says, and Lance decides to look at him. Shiro silently offers him a wet rag, and Lance takes it, cleaning his face and hands of any blood. He feels like he’s only smearing it, but keeps wiping anyway. After a moment of struggling, Shiro delicately takes the rag away and begins to clean Lance's face himself, his movements gentle and slow, like he's afraid Lance will run.

“Has her dad woken up yet?” Lance asks, and Shiro sighs.

“Yes. Kolivan told him what happened.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say to that. 

“Kolivan also told him all that you did for his daughter,” Shiro says in an attempt to comfort him, but it does the opposite.

“I didn’t do anything,” Lance says back, but Shiro clicks his tongue.

“You got her out of there, and you saved her sister. You did the best you could with what you had, Lance,” Shiro says, but Lance shakes his head.

“That’s not enough, Shiro. I was supposed to save her, too. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do: save people?”

Shiro’s eyes soften. “We can’t save everyone, kiddo. There are going to be those few that we can’t save, and it sucks, but we have to push through.”

Lance knows that. This isn’t the first time he’s lost someone on a mission. In the last timeline, there had been a few he had failed to save that had slipped through the cracks, but it didn’t make that pain hurt any less.

“We save more people than we lose, Lance. That’s how I choose to look at it,” Shiro says, and Lance nods. Shiro had said that in the last timeline, too. 

Lance stands up, wiping at his eyes. He sniffles, trying not to cry, but he feels his eyes water anyway. Shiro stands up too and spreads his arms. “Can I hug you?” He asks, and Lance nods wordlessly, letting Shiro hug him.

Shiro’s hugs are strong, and they make him feel safe. “I’m sorry, buddy. I know how much you wanted to save her,” Shiro says quietly, and Lance rests his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Despite his best effort, his mind drifts to Allura’s sacrifice. He isn’t just thinking of Shyza anymore. 

“I did. I wanted to save her so badly.”

Against his wishes, Shiro forces Lance to take a shower. 

Lance uses boiling hot water and scrubs his skin relentlessly until he feels clean. When he finally gets out, his skin is sensitive, but he does feel a tiny bit better.

Shiro has laid out a clean new uniform for him to wear, and Lance reluctantly puts it on. He checks himself in the mirror to make sure he cleaned off all the blood before exiting the locker room. Shiro’s waiting outside for him.

“Hunk and Keith made it back with the scaultrite,” Shiro says, and Lance does smile at that.

“I told them they would be okay. They kept acting like they weren’t gonna come back,” He says, and Shiro rolls his eyes fondly. 

“I find that those two both have a flair for the dramatic.”

Lance raises his eyebrows at this. “That’s an understatement. Do you remember Keith’s 16th birthday? Hunk made him a three-tier cake and bought out a bouncy house for him. We had leftover cake for dinner for, like, three weeks.”

Shiro smiles. “Keith did enjoy that bouncy house.”

They keep walking along until they make it to the bridge, and Lance notices that everyone is there, save for Kolivan. Lance looks at Shiro questioningly, and Shiro frowns. “Kolivan’s with the people we rescued,” He says simply, and Lance sighs.

“Right.”

Allura smiles weakly as Keith and Hunk show her the amount of scaultrite they’ve retrieved. “Nice work, you two. Thank you.”

She sets a course for the Balmera, and Lance struggles to remember what happens next. Something happens at the Balmera, doesn’t it? Something big? Important? Why can’t he remember what it specifically is?

“Hello, Blue Paladin,” A familiarly annoying voice greets, and Lance looks down to see Slav, who’s currently giving him the stink eye.

“Can I help you?” Lance asks, trying to keep the bad attitude out of his voice. 

Shiro walks away quickly, like the very sight of Slav has scared him, and Lance sighs. 

“I just had a question,” Slav says mysteriously, and Lance wants to roll his eyes.

“What is it?” He asks, and Slav hums. 

“Do you remember?”

That stops Lance cold. “Remember what?”

“Remember the alternate reality where Princess–”

Lance clears his throat loudly. Slav looks like he’s won the jackpot. “I knew it,” He whispers under his breath, and Lance has never felt the urge to punt someone across the room so much in his life. Well, besides Griffin, but he’s not here right now, so that’s not exactly an option.

“What are you playing at?” Lance hisses, and Slav simply shrugs, causing Lance to bite his tongue, so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Fine. Answer a question of mine, then. How likely is it that this plan is going to go the same as last time, hm?”

Slav thinks this over, counts on his many hands, and even takes out a notebook before he draws a conclusion. “About a 24.2 percent chance, which, luckily for you, is a lower percentage than I was expecting!”

Lance ponders this as he watches Hunk and Allura play Charades with the mice, trying not to think out loud. “So, have you talked to Pidge yet about the whole shield idea?”

Slav’s eyeballs seem to bulge out at this. “Shield!? That’ll bring the chances down to 17.1 percent! Even better!” Then Slav squints his eyes, and Lance feels like he’s being judged. “This conversation isn’t over,” He says and then slinks away, causing Pidge to scream when he slides up in front of her. Lance can’t make out anything they’re saying, but knows that he’s going to be in for quite a talk later on.

The Robeast coming back to life on the Balmera is the wake-up call Lance wasn’t prepared for, but he knows he should have been. How could he have forgotten something like that?

Sure, the team all being together at the start to take it down was a good change, a welcome one in fact, yet the suddenness of the battle still leaves Lance reeling. 

He takes a lot more hits than he ever has, causing avid concern from his friends, but he shakes it off, just waiting for the battle to end. The Robeast will go down eventually, and he reminds himself of this on repeat. He gets jostled and thrown and beaten down, what feels like millions of times, but he doesn’t give up. Thankfully, Blue doesn’t either, though there is noticeable hesitance coming from her that Lance doesn’t want to acknowledge.

After what feels like hours of fighting it, Pidge finally notices its weakness, and Voltron saves the day once again. 

Lance is kicking himself when Voltron splits, wondering how he could have forgotten this. Sure, this battle isn’t extremely important in the grand scheme of things, but it’s still something he should have thought about and at least expected.

He exits his Lion and makes his way back to the bridge, cracking his back on the way and checking to make sure he isn’t bleeding anywhere. Hunk was already worried about him before; this would only make matters worse.

Lance is immediately inspected by Slav as soon as he walks in, causing him to scoff. “Dude, I’m fine,” He says, trying to dodge Slav’s prying hands.

“Hold still! There is a 92.2 percent chance you have a concussion, and if you ate toast earlier, that brings your chances to 99.6 percent!”

“I didn’t eat toast!” Lance shouts, getting fed up with Slav’s antics. This is the last thing he needs right now.

“Why are we arguing about toast?” Shiro asks as soon as he enters the room and stops in his tracks when he sees Slav. He squints his eyes suspiciously before looking at Lance. “What happened?”

“He thinks I have a concussion, which I don’t, ” Lance replies, jerking away from Slav when the latter attempts to climb onto his shoulders.

Shiro winces as he looks Lance up and down. “You’re in pretty rough shape, kiddo. Maybe you should get checked out,” Shiro advises, and Slav hums in agreement.

“I’m literally fine. You guys worry too much,” Lance argues, turning around. He starts to walk away when his foot catches on one of Slav’s many legs, and he falls forward, instantly breaking his nose. 

He raises a finger up, his voice muffled when he says, “That was not my fault.”

A few days later, the Teledauv is complete, causing immense excitement from everyone. Allura gives speeches, Shiro tells everyone to train, and Slav decides to bother Lance 24 fucking 7. He makes sneaky remarks that leave the others scratching their heads, and answers Lance’s questions in the most sarcastic ways possible. 

Kolivan eventually comes back, his eyes tired and face taut, like he’s forcing himself to stay awake, and Lance has to inquire what’s wrong. Kolivan tells him that he dropped off the prisoners they rescued from Alpha Zarys on Zestrora, which confirms to Lance that Clotho did make contact with the Blade.  Kolivan also tells him that he’s been doing research on why the Druids would be interested in torturing small children, but he hasn’t come up with anything yet. 

“There was one thing, though, something called Operation Tenyo. We’ve been combing the Empire’s servers relentlessly, but nothing circumstantial comes up,” Kolivan informs, and Lance can’t help but hear how exhausted the poor guy sounds. 

“But nothing about Kuron?” Lance asks, and Kolivan shakes his head. Lance can’t decide if the absence of Kuron is a bad thing or a good thing. 

Good, because he won’t have to deal with an evil clone who acts like an asshole. Bad, because why would Haggar decide not to do the operation? Is someone feeding her information? That can’t be good.

“Is there anything I can do?” Lance asks, and Kolivan sighs. 

“Stay strong, no matter what happens. A lot of what’s been happening lately has been new territory, even for me, so please. Stay. Vigilant.”

Kolivan had walked off then, leaving Lance grasping for straws and hoping that the outcome of the big battle with Zarkon would change by a landslide. 

He checks in on Slav and Pidge about the shield, with both of them excitedly using terms and phrases that Lance’s brain can’t quite comprehend at the moment. He just nods, smiles, and leaves, hoping that all their hard work won’t be for nothing.

Hunk has been on almost nonstop calls with Shay, and when he isn’t talking to Shay, he’s talking about Shay to anyone who will listen. Shiro has been the latest victim of Hunk’s rants, but he doesn’t seem to mind this, because then he decides to go on rants about Adam to Hunk. It’s a never-ending cycle with them.

Keith has been training vigilantly every day, barely stopping to eat or sleep, which Lance has to convince the damn Mullet to do since Keith won’t acknowledge anyone anymore. When Lance finally asked Keith why he was suddenly working so hard, Keith replied, “I want this to be the last battle we ever have to do so that I can tell you what I really want to say.”

Whatever that meant.

The day for the battle finally came, and holy moley. Lance had forgotten how stressful this whole situation had been. 

First, it was Shiro playing bait so that Zarkon could come out to play. Then, it was Keith sneaking aboard Zarkon’s ship so that the Blade could upload the virus. 

Keith is able to save Thace this time, dragging him out by the nape of his neck as the ship goes down, and that’s where the real battle begins.

Zarkon’s lookalike Robeast starts beating them around like they’re a tennis ball, and they get hit by the Komar. Lance had forgotten how much it hurt to have so much quintessence drained from you in such a forceful way. 

As expected, though, Voltron does prevail, and to Lance’s surprise, the shield Pidge and Slav put together actually works, guarding Shiro against Zarkon’s attack. Hunk asks where the hell that shield was when they were getting bounced around like a basketball, but Slav comes up with some half-baked excuse that everyone is too tired to argue with.

Voltron lands the final blow, ending Zarkon’s Robeast once and for all, and Lance feels a chill run through him when he sees the Black Lion floating through space, completely unmoving.

This is it.

Keith and Pidge retrieve the Black Lion and bring it back to the Castleship, Keith muttering obscenities the whole time. Hunk and Lance follow right behind them. 

Lance exits his Lion and starts sprinting towards the Black Lion, hoping and praying to the universe that they could allow them this one break. 

Just one break, he begs silently, and the universe is silent in reply. 

He enters the cockpit right after Keith and hears a gasp of shock. Lance runs to stand beside Keith when his blood runs cold. 

Shiro is still there.

Shiro’s eyes are closed, and his breathing is so, so shallow, but he’s still in his seat. He makes no noises, groans, or complaints. He’s just sleeping. 

Keith jostles him. “Shiro, wake up! The battle’s over! Come on!”

Lance stops Keith. “Let’s get him to a pod. Maybe he just needs rest.”

Keith actually listens, and Lance helps him carry Shiro out of the Black Lion. Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Coran run up, panic clear on their faces.

“Is he okay?” Pidge asks, her voice shaky.

“He’s alive,” Lance answers, but he gives Shiro another worried look.

“Then what’s wrong with him?” Hunk questions, holding a hand to his chest.

“He’s not waking up.”

Chapter Text

It’s been three months.

Lance should have expected this. The silence, the dreary mood, the hopelessness that seemed to drench the air every day throughout the Castleship. He should have expected this, and yet, his whole mind is still reeling, even three months later. 

Shiro has been in a coma for the past three months, which, y’know, is better than being dead, but it doesn’t make anyone feel any better. It makes people worried, and edgy, and sad, and goddamn, Lance wasn’t expecting this. 

“What’s on the agenda today?” Pidge asks quietly, bringing Lance out of his thoughts.

He looks around the bridge, realizing that he and Pidge are the only ones in the room, and he sighs, running a hand down his face. “Is nobody else coming today, either?” He asks, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.

Pidge shakes her head, not bothering to hide her own disappointment. “Allura’s passed out in her room, and Coran’s looking after her. Hunk’s stress-baking and Keith’s training,” Pidge explains, and Lance nods. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised at this, but can’t help his despondency.

“I’m glad you showed up at least,” Lance says, trying to keep the mood light, and Pidge winces.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a little out of it lately,” She apologizes, and Lance waves a hand dismissively.

“It’s understandable. Don’t worry about it,” He reassures, but Pidge shakes her head.

“No, it’s not. I made an obligation to the universe when I decided to stay with Voltron, so I can’t just ignore my duty.”

“Pidge, you’re literally fifteen. It’s okay to take a break from all this. It isn’t exactly easy work,” Lance says. “And considering recent circumstances, it’s totally okay.”

He clears his throat and turns towards the console. Coran taught him the basics about how to operate it, and he brings up their plans for the day. Pidge takes a step forward, examining the holograph with her full attention. 

“We’re going to be liberating Horuta and Vara 81. The Galra presence on those planets isn’t significant enough to really stand a chance, so we’re gonna try to nip it in the bud today,” Lance says, sending a short message to Kolivan. 

“Is it just going to be us?” Pidge asks, her tone hinting that she’s nervous.

“No,” Lance answers. “The Blade’s going, too. They work mostly on the ground. You and I will work from the sky,” Lance directs, and Pidge looks relieved.

Then she quirks her eyebrows as if she’s just realized something. “Have you been doing this the whole time?” She asks, tugging at her sleeves. “Planning stuff out and liberating planets while the rest of us have been…?” She trails off, seeming too ashamed to finish her question. 

Lance half-shrugs. “It’s the only thing I’ve been able to focus on lately. It’s either this or holing myself up in my room and doing nothing. I choose this.”

Pidge adjusts her glasses, choosing not to say anything else on the matter. Lance simply tells her to get changed into her armor and that he’ll meet her in the hangar. She salutes at this, showing the first sign of playfulness he’s seen in a while, and leaves the room.

The Castleship suddenly gets a call, and Lance wastes no time answering it. Kolivan’s face pops up on the screen and looks remarkably frustrated at the sight of Lance, or rather, only Lance.

“Is it just going to be you again?” Kolivan asks, his tone tired, and Lance proudly shakes his head.

“We’re gonna have Pidge with us this time. C’mon, I’m not that bad to hang out with, am I?” Lance jokes, and Kolivan exhales out of his nose loudly, which Lance identifies as a laugh. 

“We’ll see you two at Horuta in two vargas,” Kolivan says gruffly, and Lance confirms this with a nod.

“See you there.”

The call ends, and Lance feels like he’s going to collapse. He wouldn’t admit this to literally anyone, but he hasn’t slept in three days. The past few missions have been sort of back-to-back, and Lance hasn’t managed to get any rest, whether he’s tried to or not.

He knows he’s going to mess up on one of these missions if he isn’t careful, but he can’t bring himself to just stop helping people, to stop saving planets. It doesn’t feel right. 

The rest of his friends haven’t exactly stopped helping, but they also haven’t been the most helpful either, which Lance can understand. Shiro going into a coma created a lot of uncertainty and panic on the Castleship, which in turn created a lot of restlessness as well. Lance decided to dedicate that energy to fighting while everyone else did their own thing.

Pidge spent countless hours trying to find leads on her brother and father, often being away from the Castleship for days at a time, which caused Lance to worry immensely. As soon as he found out about her escapades, he made her promise to at least let him know where she was going so he could keep an eye out. She hasn’t landed herself in any trouble yet, but Lance just had a bad feeling about all of it.

Hunk went into a state of depression, which greatly resembled his behavior at the Garrison after Keith had left, and put all his time and effort into baking. Whenever Lance had tried to talk to him, Hunk had simply said he didn’t want to talk and that he was fine. Hunk wasn’t necessarily in danger whenever he was in the kitchen, so Lance had left him alone, but Hunk was going to crack sooner or later. It was only a matter of time at this rate.

Allura spent a lot of time and magic on healing Shiro after the battle, and absolutely nothing came out of it. The healing pod Shiro is resting in keeps track of any brain activity or abnormalities, and so far, nothing has changed. Nevertheless, Allura still trained every day, and when she was done training, she would attempt to heal Shiro in hopes of waking him up from his coma. Shiro wouldn’t even flinch from this, and the cycle would continue, over and over and over again. Allura was continually exhausting herself, and despite numerous pleas from both Coran and Lance to stop, she would only push forward, straining herself. She was going to crack, too, though Lance couldn’t imagine when that would be.

Keith had been doing what anyone would expect from him, which was to train until he physically couldn’t anymore. When he eventually passed out either from hunger or exhaustion, Lance would drag him to either the kitchen or to his bedroom so Keith could recuperate. After a few days, Keith would be right back on the training deck, and the cycle would continue. When Lance thinks about it, Allura and Keith were pretty similar in that regard. 

Lance, well, has been doing this the whole time. Fighting alongside the Blade, liberating planets, saving people, the whole shebang. Sometimes, whenever the others weren’t busy, they would join in, but those times were very rare. Lance takes part of the blame for that, considering he doesn’t go out of his way to let everyone know what’s going on, but whatever. He hasn’t messed up on a single mission up to this point, and he doesn’t plan on starting now. If that means keeping his friends uninvolved, then that’s what it takes. They’ll snap out of it eventually, though Lance has no way of determining when that’ll be. Or the circumstances that would cause it.

The missions go as well as you’d expect. Pidge’s help is greatly appreciated, and Kolivan subtly hints that her help would be needed on many more missions after, which actually makes Pidge smile. After seeing her reaction, Lance reminds himself to notify Pidge about every mission from now on. Maybe distracting herself from the search and from Shiro’s situation would do her some good. 

Pidge’s smile manages to last all the way back to the Castleship, and even when they leave their Lions, Pidge continues to grin, her eyes glinting in a way that Lance hasn’t seen for months.

“It felt good saving people again. I almost forgot how it felt to fly Green like that. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until just now,” Pidge admits, and Lance puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Take some time to bond with her if you want. I’m sure she’d like that.” Pidge’s happiness begins to fade, causing Lance to frown. “What’s up?” He asks, and she sighs, fiddling with her fingers.

“How do you do it?” She inquires, looking up at Lance with accusing eyes, though it’s not a mean look. 

“Do what?”

Pidge shrugs for a second, struggling to come up with words. “How do you…function? Everyone else is… just shutting down, and yet, here you are. You’re fine. You’re acting like everything’s normal when it’s not. Just…how do you do it?”

Lance smiles sadly at this. “I don’t. I just try to look at things optimistically, I guess.”

Pidge tilts her head at this, more confusion in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Lance looks up at the ceiling, determining how to word this. He decides to word it honestly, no matter how harsh it may sound. “When thinking about Shiro’s condition, there are really only two ways it could go. Option One: he never wakes up. Months and months will go by, and he’ll show no sign of ever waking up. We’ll eventually have to make a choice, whether we let him go or let him keep sleeping. I won’t elaborate further, but Option One is pretty much the worst choice to dwell on.”

He continues. “Option Two: he wakes up, and everything will be fine and dandy. There’s no way of knowing when it’ll happen or if it will, but that’s the option I choose to dwell on. That’s the option I choose to believe will happen. The first few days after the battle, I thought about Option One a lot. But then, eventually, I chose to believe in Option Two. It helps me feel less scared about the whole thing.”

“But what if Option One still happens? What then?” Pidge asks.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Lance answers, running a hand through his hair. “But it does you no good to keep thinking about the worst scenario.”

Pidge takes a minute to process Lance’s words. “So that’s it? Your advice is to stay positive? That’s not very helpful,” Pidge says, her voice shaky, and Lance sighs.

“I also do something else. It helps me believe in Option Two a bit more.”

She looks at him questioningly, waiting for his answer.

 “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I go to Shiro’s pod, and I talk to him. Sometimes about stupid stuff, other times about the missions I go on, et cetera, et cetera,” Lance says honestly. “It helps me to believe that when he wakes up, he’ll be all caught up on the stuff we went through while he was asleep, y’know?”

Pidge considers this, taking off her glasses. She looks down at them, cleaning the lenses as she thinks about Lance’s words. She puts them back on and looks up at Lance, her expression tired. “I think I might start doing that, too,” She admits, and Lance nods.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to hear anyone else’s voice after he’s had to listen to mine for the past three months,” He attempts to joke, but Pidge shakes her head.

“You’re a good person to talk to, Lance. I’m sure when he wakes up, he’ll be thankful that you took the time to talk to him.”

Coran stops Lance on the way back to his room, looking more concerned than Lance has ever seen him. “Allura’s been asleep for two quintants straight. How much longer is this whole situation going to last, Lance?” Coran’s voice sounds frustrated and exhausted, and Lance wishes he knew the answer to his question.

“I told you already, Coran. I don’t know. This didn’t happen before,” Lance says, worried that he’s beginning to sound like a broken record. Every day, Coran has come up to him, concerned and confused, asking the same question as today, and every day, Lance gives him the same answer.

With the number of times Coran has come up to him like this, Lance is beginning to wonder whether Coran is getting any sleep. With Allura in the shape she’s in, Lance can only guess that he isn’t. 

Coran scoffs at his reply, and Lance braces himself for a rant. 

“It’s been three phoebs at this point, and you still don’t have an answer?!” 

Lance listens quietly as Coran begins shouting and wishes that he were in bed right now. Just when he thought he might actually be able to get some sleep, something else comes up to jinx him. Coran’s shouting lasts for quite a few minutes, and Lance, regrettably, isn’t able to process a single word that’s being said to him. 

He feels awful for not knowing the answer to Coran’s question, believe him, he does. But it literally can’t be helped. Lance has explained the situation to Coran thousands of times, and yet, it still seems like he isn’t getting it.

When Coran’s tirade is over, he unceremoniously walks away, and Lance briefly wonders if letting Coran know about the past timeline was the right choice. He would’ve never told him if he knew it was going to result in panic, accusations, and anger. If this is how it’s going to be for the others if Lance ever tells them the truth, then oh boy. He’s going to be in for it.

Lance stands there in the hallway for a few minutes, trying to process this whole damn situation. He truly doesn’t know how he’s done this for so long without breaking down, but he’s doing it, believe it or not. He just hopes he can hold out for a little longer. 

“Lance?”

Lance startles at the sound of a new voice, one he hadn’t heard in a few days. He turns around and smiles when he sees who it is.

“Keith? You’re not in the training room for once,” Lance comments, and Keith looks a bit sheepish at this.

“I decided to take a break,” Keith says, and Lance raises an eyebrow. Somehow, he finds that hard to believe.

“Of your own free will? Who are you and what have you done with Keith?” Lance teases, and Keith finally smiles back.

“Haha, very funny,” Keith replies, taking a few steps toward Lance. Keith looks him up and down, and Lance feels weirdly vulnerable for a second. That was odd.

“Did you just get back from a mission? Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve gone with you,” Keith inquires, his expression a mix between confusion and hurt.

Lance shrugs in response. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he answers. 

Keith tilts his head at this, his eyes soft as he looks at Lance. “You could never bother me.”

Lance tries to ignore the sincerity in Keith’s statement and looks away, not knowing how to respond to that.

 Keith sighs. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been M.I.A lately, when you guys probably need me the most. I’m the worst.”

Lance rolls his eyes at that. “You’re not the worst. You’ve just been a little spacey recently, which is understandable. ”

Is he going to have this same conversation with everyone?

Keith doesn’t look satisfied with Lance’s explanation. “I wouldn’t call passing out from exhaustion being spacey,” He says, using air quotes. 

“Yeah, maybe zonked is a better word for it. The point is… It’s okay. Everything’s been kinda crazy, man. Everybody’s coping with this in their own way,” Lance says, and Keith exhales deeply. 

“Sure, but don’t you think three months is a little much?” Keith asks, and Lance shakes his head. 

“People deal with shit differently. It’s how we function. Something bad happens, and if we can’t deal with it, we either distract ourselves from it or we run. It’s like a defense mechanism.”

“Still, it’s–”

Lance waves a finger, silencing Keith. “Quit beating yourself up. Nobody’s mad at you for the way you deal with things. If I’m being honest, everyone’s sort of being spacey, too. But sooner or later, we’re going to have to snap out of this funk we’re in.”

Keith nods, taking in Lance’s words with thoughtfulness. “I know. It’s just…weird. In my mind, I know Shiro’s here and alive, but there’s another part of me that’s saying he’s gone. It’s…conflicting.” He straightens up then, shaking his head in an effort to rid his mind of such thoughts. 

Lance begins to say something, but then closes his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say to make Keith feel better. Keith’s the type to keep a tight rein on his emotions and won’t let himself truly experience them until all’s said and done. If someone tries to force a reaction from him, he responds with anger or silence…or angry silence.

 Either way, Lance figures that Keith needs an outlet for this, and he thinks he knows just the thing.

Lance takes a deep breath in, steeling himself for Keith’s response. He’s still not quite sure how Keith would take this, considering the whole Shiro situation has changed, but he’s hoping Keith’s reaction will be tame nevertheless. “Do you wanna go see Shiro?”

Keith freezes at this. “What do you mean?”

Lance looks down at the ground, sighing. “Ever since the whole coma thing, I’ve been visiting Shiro. I talk to him, tell him about missions and stuff. I do that so when he wakes up, he’ll be caught up on everything he’s been asleep for.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at this, his expression unreadable. “When he wakes up?”

“Yeah. When.”

Keith doesn’t say anything, crossing his arms. “You really believe he’s going to wake up?” His tone isn’t full of any type of inflection, which is starting to worry Lance. He’s not able to gauge what Keith’s reaction is going to be.

“I do. Of course, I don’t know when that’ll happen, but I think it will. I have a good feeling about it.”

Lance sounds childish, he knows he does, but that’s what he’s choosing to believe, and he’ll stick with it. He doesn’t even want to think about the alternative.

Keith nods slowly, considering Lance’s words with what looks like a grain of salt. “Good. Because I do, too.”

Lance’s eyes widen. “So, that’s a yes on seeing Shiro then?”

Keith smiles lightly. “Yeah. Let’s go see him.”

When they make it to Shiro’s healing pod, Lance notes that Shiro looks less sickly than the last time he saw him. His eyelids are fluttering, which suggests that Shiro must be dreaming, but his breathing is steady. 

Keith sighs when he looks at Shiro, not being able to find the words to describe how he’s feeling.

“Is this the first time you’ve seen him since…?” Lance trails off, and Keith shakes his head.

“I’ve come to see him a couple of times, but I don’t stay longer than just a few seconds. I just check on him to make sure he’s still there.” Keith then turns to him, his shoulders slumped like he’s exhausted. “How often do you come to see him?”

Lance decides to be honest. “I try to come every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes. I just update him on what’s been going on and what everyone’s been up to. It almost makes it feel like nothing’s changed.”

“But things have changed,” Keith comments, his voice tired. 

“They have,” Lance relents. “But they don’t have to stay this way.”

Keith looks over, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lance bites his lip, trying to determine what to say in order not to make Keith lash out. This obviously isn’t a good time to bring up the whole Black Lion thing, so Lance has to be delicate with this. 

“I’m not going to try and guess what Shiro would want,” Lance begins, and Keith looks down. “But I don’t think we should be giving up like this.”

“I’m not giving up on Shiro,” Keith says defensively, and Lance shakes his head.

“Nobody’s giving up on Shiro, okay? But a lot of us have been giving up on ourselves. Everybody’s been beating themselves up for things that aren’t their fault.”

“Have you ?” Keith asks, and Lance quiets down at this.

He hadn’t really taken the time to think about it, so he simply shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Look, all I know is that we can’t keep going along like this. Have you seen Allura lately?”

Keith straightens up at this, his eyes going wide with concern. “Is she still trying to heal him? It’s been three months.”

Lance nods. “I know. Every time she recovers from exhausting herself, she wears herself out again. It’s a cycle, one she doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

Keith looks at Shiro, an indescribable look in his eyes. “Even after the healing, he still doesn’t show signs of getting better, right?”

“No, but he also doesn’t show signs of getting worse, which is what I think keeps spurring Allura on. She thinks her healing might be what’s keeping him alive.” Keith flinches at Lance’s wording, and Lance curses internally. He tries to recover and adds, “I honestly don’t think that’s true. I think if she quit trying to heal him, he’d be fine. Her expending herself like this will only do more harm than good.”

“Yeah, but what if his body’s gotten used to the healing? What if he starts going through withdrawals or something?” Keith asks, twiddling with his fingers. Something tells Lance that this isn’t just about Shiro anymore. He'll need to address that at another time.

Lance puts a gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how Altean magic works. Shiro’s been doing fine in the healing pod. The healing pod can be used indefinitely, and from what Coran’s told me, it can keep whoever’s in it frozen in time. He can just chill in there until we find a better solution.”

Keith doesn’t look fully convinced, but his face relaxes just the tiniest bit, which Lance will take as a small win. “What kind of solution are you thinking will work?”

“That,” Lance points a finger. “I have no idea. I’m thinking, though, that if nothing is physically wrong with Shiro, then it must have hit him in his brain. It might be magically induced or something,” He suggests, and Keith nods along.

“You think Zarkon’s witch had something to do with it?”

“I have no doubts about it. The problem is finding out what exactly she did to Shiro so we can fix it. We don’t have any leads on it right now, but I think if we all started looking, it might be a good start.”

Keith seems to like that suggestion a lot more than Lance was expecting, but he isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Suddenly, soft footsteps enter the room, and both Keith and Lance turn their heads to find none other than Allura, who is standing there just a foot away from the doorway. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you guys were in here. I’ll come back at a better time,” Allura says quietly, and Lance takes a moment to register how tired she looks. He knew it was bad, but not this bad. 

Her nails have been chewed down to the point where they look jagged and rough and like they could cut you if you weren’t careful. Her hair is in a messy, poorly put-together bun, which is unheard of for Allura, considering she’s one of the most sophisticated people Lance has ever known. She’s in her spacesuit, which looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, judging from all the sweat stains. 

Lance has never seen her like this. It hits him again that he never really knew Allura, certainly not in a time of desperation like she’s going through right now. Even during her recuperation after the Balmera, she looked sluggish, sure, but nothing to this degree.

This needs to stop. 

“Princess,” Keith says, being the one to call out to her, and she stops in her tracks. She turns towards him, her tired eyes asking a silent question that Lance can’t decipher. Keith silently motions for her to join them, and she does, sighing as she does so. She crosses her arms, trying to look like she doesn’t know why they would want to talk to her, and Lance feels his heart break for her.  

“Allura, you can’t keep going on like this. It’s taking its toll on you,” Lance takes the initiative and gets straight to the point.

She frowns deeply at this but doesn’t deny it. “I cannot just stop healing him, Lance. I’m close to a breakthrough; I’m sure of it.”

“Coran says you’ve been talking like that for the past three months,” Lance argues, and she clenches her fists but doesn’t say anything in response. 

“Princess,” Keith begins, and she looks at him. “I’m not one to talk about coping mechanisms, okay? I usually run away from the problem or distract myself with something else. But this?” Keith motions to her. “This isn’t healthy. And it isn’t your responsibility.” She opens her mouth to rebuke this, but he puts a hand up, and she reluctantly closes it. “You weren’t the one who put Shiro into a coma. None of us did that. It’s just bad luck on our part. It doesn’t have to fall onto you to fix it.”

Allura’s eyes water, but she rubs them, refusing to let any tears fall. “He is still our friend. We can’t just let him stay like this. If I have the power to help him, I am going to do my part.”

“But are you helping him?” Lance asks, and she freezes, processing his words. “Nobody is saying you haven’t been trying,” He says quickly. “But has he improved at all since you started healing him?”

“No,” She answers, her voice quiet and ashamed. “Despite my best efforts, there’s been no sign of improvement.”

“And that’s okay,” Keith reassures, and Allura’s eyes widen in shock.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” He answers. “You gave it a try, and that’s all that matters. You need to start taking care of yourself now.”

Allura just looks confused. “I thought you would’ve wanted me to try harder, and yet you’re saying the opposite.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to work yourself to exhaustion. Shiro’s my brother, and I love him, and I obviously want him to wake up, but I also know him very well. He wouldn’t want you to work yourself to death either. He’d want us to keep going and take care of ourselves while doing so.”

Lance listens as Keith keeps talking and realizes that maybe Keith becoming the Black Paladin this time around will come more naturally. He’s already talking like a leader, and he seems to be the only one Allura will listen to right now. Maybe Hunk will be the same way. 

“Alright,” Allura says, clasping her hands together. She takes a deep breath, looking deep in thought. After a few moments, she addresses them, her voice stern and steady. “In two quintants, we will get back to our old ways, and we will figure out how to wake Shiro up. I will need to have a long conversation with Coran. He said something earlier that requires my full attention.” She shoots an apologetic look at Lance, then, causing him to frown. Did Coran say something to Allura about their conversation?

Keith catches this and glances at Lance with questioning eyes. Lance pretends not to notice this and nods back at Allura. 

“I shall take my leave,” She says and goes to leave the room before stopping. She looks back, her eyes grateful. “Thank you.”

She walks out then, and Keith sighs, causing Lance to smile. “Your words really helped her,” He comments, but Keith looks doubtful.

“Really? I feel like she was just telling us what we wanted to hear.”

“Nah,” Lance shakes his head. “I think as Shiro’s brother, knowing how you feel about her expending herself like that took a lot of pressure off of her.” Lance thinks a bit before adding, “You also just have a way with words. I can’t explain it.

Keith hums in response, casting a look at the sleeping Shiro, who still appears to be dreaming. Lance quickly remembers why they came here and clears his throat. “I’ll leave you to talk to Shiro. I think you two have a little catching up to do.”

Lance finds himself on the bridge again, going through the numerous messages that the Voltron Coalition has sent them over the past day. There are a few wanting to schedule meetings and make plans about what to do about Zarkon, but most of them are inquiring about Shiro’s health. Lance doesn’t know how to answer those.

He taps on the console, causing the screen to disappear, and sits back in his chair. Lance is glad that Allura’s coming back into action soon because he is not good with diplomacy, not to the degree that she is. She would inform everyone of their circumstances and be able to magically make everyone feel better. If all this remained in Lance’s hands, the Voltron Coalition would probably disband within a day.

“I see you talked to Keith,” Pidge’s voice interrupts Lance’s thoughts. He sits up and looks around for her, noticing that she has just come in. She’s still in her armor, suggesting she just got done talking to Green. 

“Yep, and he talked to Allura,” Lance informs, and Pidge seems to brighten even more at this situation.

“Really?”

Lance nods. “Yeah. She’s giving everyone two days to get ourselves in order before we get back to business. The only one that still needs to be talked to is Hunk.”

Pidge frowns at this. “Is he still not talking?”

Lance sighs. “The last time I talked to him was three days ago, and he completely stonewalled me. I don’t think he’s doing it maliciously, but still. It’s kinda worrying.”

Pidge adjusts her glasses, her expression confused as she tries to come up with a solution. “I’m not sure what to do,” She admits, and Lance expected this. “However, “ She starts. “I do have an idea. Do you mind if I talk to him about what you and I talked about earlier?”

“I don’t mind at all. Do you want me to come with you?” Lance asks, and Pidge shakes her head.

“No, I want you to get some sleep. Have you slept recently?”

Lance refuses to confirm or deny this since Pidge seems to clearly know the answer. “Thought so,” She comments, but her tone isn’t mocking. “Go get some sleep. I’ll talk to Hunk. If he won’t talk, then we’ll have to resort to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“Knock him out, tie him up, and force him to listen to us.”

“Huh. Okay, let’s hope Plan B isn’t needed.”

“Let’s hope it’s not. Now go. You look like you’re about to fall asleep in that chair.”

Lance obliges, holding his hands up in surrender as he gets up from his chair and leaves the room. 

As he walks to his bedroom, he suddenly feels a push-and-pull sensation that gives him a sense of vertigo. He places his hand on a nearby wall and tries to find his sense of balance. The sensation feels similar, eerily so, but he can’t put his finger on it.

The same feeling comes again, and he focuses on it to try to figure out what it is. The pushing sensation that causes him to almost lose his balance feels like ice-cold water drenching him from head to toe. He feels like he’s freezing. Then the second part of it comes, a white-hot sensation that feels like it’s burning him from the inside out. It’s not as uncomfortable as the first part, but goddamn, it feels weird. 

When the feeling stops, Lance feels like a freezer-burnt burrito that just came out of the microwave. Cold on the inside, hot on the outside. It’s very unpleasant.

He starts walking towards his room again, keeping his hand on the wall. The sensation keeps repeating itself over and over to the point where it doesn’t bother him as much once he actually makes it to his room, but it’s still annoying. Lance ponders the cause of it shortly before it hits him. 

“Blue?” He says out loud, and the sensation stops completely, leaving Lance feeling relieved. “What was that about?” He asks, though he has a feeling he knows the answer already.

You know what is coming, my star. However, you seem to be denying it.

“What?” Lance says, confused. 

You are rejecting your future Lion. 

“Oh.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say to that. He isn’t doing it on purpose. He honestly just hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.

You are doing it subconsciously. 

He kinda figured that.

“We talked about this before, Blue. Maybe that whole Lion Swap won’t happen the same way as last time. Maybe Allura is a better fit for Red than I am.”

The white-hot feeling comes back and increases tenfold, causing Lance to wince. 

Red does not like that kind of talk, and neither do I.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Lance says, his voice strained, and the burning feeling leaves almost as fast as it came. He didn’t think Red would be this angry with him. 

Lance collapses onto his bed, exhaustion coursing through every muscle. He’s so tired, and he doesn’t want to think about this anymore.

Get some sleep. We will talk about this later.

Lance closes his eyes.

He’s not looking forward to it.