Chapter Text
Pidge, not that anyone is really listening to her over all the shouting, thinks it’s a terrible idea. It’s a brand of reckless that is so particular to Keith, which is of course why he’s championing this mission in the first place. Following a set of stolen coordinates to find an unstable, unsafe, and unknown quintessence source. Superb. The safest.
The former Red Paladin himself is front and center in the control room, arguing with a clearly exasperated Shiro over who will be accompanying him. Shiro is insisting that he’s perfectly able to go, because the man simply doesn’t understand the meaning of the word rest, and Keith’s arms are already crossed tightly over his chest.
Pidge looks around at the rest of the paladins, scattered around the control room in varying stages of dismay. Hunk and Coran are squabbling over the logistics of the trip, how to pack, what to pack, if food goo is easily transported, etc. Allura is interjecting into Keith and Shiro’s conversation, gently trying to ease the ever-growing tension between the two paladins. From the projected holo-screen at the console, Kolivan and Krolia, who’s apparently Keith’s long-lost Galra mother, are watching the Voltron team with impassive faces.
Lance is hiding in the back, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets and feet kicking at the floor. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and doesn’t even look around to meet Pidge’s eyes. Pidge’s eyebrows pull together in confusion at him, and she’s about to call him over when Kolivan clears his throat.
“We sent Keith back with the intention that he would prepare at the castleship and leave for the mission soon,” he intones, pointedly making eye contact with his smallest Blade member. Keith ducks his head, clearly embarrassed if the rosiness of his cheeks is anything to go by.
“If I had suspected it would take this long for him to pick a companion, I would have just gone with him myself,” Krolia says, and though her voice is calm, Pidge recoils slightly at the clear exasperation on her face. They hadn’t even known she existed half a varga ago, and she probably already thinks they’re incompetent. Pidge can’t really fault her for it, considering how quickly the team descended into chaos. How does Allura take us anywhere, Pidge thinks idly.
Keith starts to defend himself, which Shiro takes as the perfect opportunity to point out how easy this would all be if Keith would just let him come with. The chattering picks up again, and Krolia and Kolivan are exchanging a look.
“I’ll go,” someone finally says. Everyone turns to look at the source.
Lance has pulled his hands out of his pockets, but they’re still hanging limply at his sides. He stares straight ahead, not breaking eye contact with the two Marmorites projected above the control room. For a second, no one says anything. Then Hunk starts to laugh.
“Good one, buddy,” he says, snorting a little. Pidge wants to laugh as well, if only to show Lance that he’d successfully broken up the tension. But Lance doesn’t smile back at Hunk, doesn’t even look at him. He’s not joking, Pidge realizes with a jolt.
“Lance,” Allura says, stepping towards him. “Are you really sure that’s the best course of action?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he replies, finally pulling his eyes away from the screen to meet the Princess’ inquiring look.
“You can’t be serious, Lance,” Pidge says, the words tumbling off her tongue before she can stop them. “You hate Keith!”
“No,” Lance says. “I don’t.”
In her peripherals, she sees Keith shifting uncomfortably between his feet. Pidge is pretty sure he wants to be anywhere but here. If given another couple of minutes, he might take off running.
Lance continues before anyone else has the nerve to speak up. “Keith and I worked just fine together when he was piloting Black.”
“Yeah, but you still had the rest of us around,” Hunk says. “You know, to buffer.”
Lance shakes his head. “Listen, it makes the most sense. Keith’ll stick to short range defense tactics, and I’ll be long range. It’s not like I’m doing anything important around here anyway. I can’t help Pidge or Hunk with any science-y stuff, and Allura and Shiro are the best at being diplomats. I can’t even fly the castleship with Coran. I’m not contributing anything right now. At least if I go on this mission, I will be.”
Pidge’s chest twinges at his words. He sounds so beaten down. Not at all the obnoxiously cheery Lance she’s used to. Does he really think that?
“We can’t just lose a Paladin for that long. What if we need Voltron?” Shiro says, striding over to where Lance is standing to grip his shoulder.
“And how would you going solve that problem? You’re literally the head of Voltron!” Lance replies. Hunk gasps dramatically.
“Ooh, he’s right, Shiro! We can’t be a mecha-super-lion without a lion head!”
Shiro sighs.
“We’re supposed to be working with Prince Lotor right now,” Lance adds, shrugging the hand off. “I can’t imagine we’ll need Voltron for the next few weeks he’ll be around.”
“Lance, you’re correct. But it’s not right if you’re only going because no one else can. We should be sending the best person for this kind of mission,” Shiro finally says. Lance narrows his eyes and opens his mouth reply, but is immediately cut off by another voice.
“Truthfully, the mission is reconnaissance-centered. If all goes well, it shouldn’t take more than a phoeb to accomplish, nor should it require a specific skill-set,” Krolia interjects.
“A phoeb? That’s over a month in Earth time!” Pidge squawks. Lance is nonplussed, and defers all attention to Allura.
The Princess is worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, something Pidge has only seen her do a few times, when she’s really thinking hard about something. Her gaze flits back and forth from Lance to Keith. At last, she settles on former Red Paladin.
“Keith, you’ve remained quite silent through all this,” she says. He straightens up, arms falling away to his sides. Pidge watches him glance at Lance for a split second, then immediately bounce back to Allura.
“Uh, yeah. That seems fine,” he replies, voice scratchy and quiet. Shiro whips his head around to look at his adopted sibling with bewilderment. Pidge feels her own expression mirroring it. Keith is willingly going on a mission with Lance? What kind of reality did they unknowingly cross into?
“You’re alright with Lance accompanying you?” Allura gently asks. Keith shifts his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable.
“He’s right. It’s the best option we have.”
Pidge pinches herself, just to check. Hunk has started patting his cheeks with his hands, as if he’s waking himself up from a dream.
Lance, however, grins for the first time that evening. “I knew it! I have been growing on you!”
“Don’t ruin it,” Keith says immediately, grimacing at Lance. It’s not enough to quell the excitement clearly bubbling under Lance’s features.
Coran claps his hands together excitedly, drawing all eyes to him.
“That settles it! Lance, Keith, you’ll both have to come with me and pick out your own climbing suits!”
Hunk meets Pidge’s gaze from across the room. Climbing suits? He mouths. Pidge shrugs.
“Be sure to inform us of your departure,” Kolivan says. Keith is nodding in response, and exchanging a few rapid-fire sentences with Krolia that Pidge can’t quite catch as Coran begins to usher her and Hunk out of the control room.
“We’ve no time to waste!” Coran is saying, a hand clamped on either Paladin’s shoulder. “While they work out the details, we should pack. The pod must be fully prepped in case of emergency.”
Pidge looks over her shoulder, ready to plead with any of the other team members to rescue her from Coran’s enthusiasm, but everyone else is preoccupied. Shiro is studying a rapidly blushing Keith, who refuses to look anywhere but the floor, while Allura is speaking to Lance in low tones, a serious expression painting her features. Coran has them out the door before Pidge can even think to call out for help.
~
With the decision that Lance and Keith will seek out the quintessence source while the team plays nice with Lotor, there isn’t really any time to waste. The transport shuttle they’ll be taking is stocked and prepped within a few vargas. It feels like Pidge hasn’t even blinked once before they’re all gathered in the hangar to see the boys off.
Shiro is gripping Keith’s shoulders, his brows drawn inwards and the corners his mouth tight with worry. Keith grips Shiro’s wrist, his fingers digging tightly into flesh hard enough to bruise. He gives Shiro the smallest smile, and Pidge feels like she’s intruding on an important family moment, so she looks away.
To Pidge’s immediate right, Hunk has Lance gripped so tightly that his feet are kicking in the air.
“Don’t die out there. Don’t let Keith die out there. And don’t forget to eat and stay hydrated!” He’s frantically saying. Lance chuckles and pats Hunk’s arm reassuringly. When he’s free from Hunk’s crushing grip, Lance slings his arm around Pidge’s shoulder and musses up her hair. Pidge shoves his hand away, trying to duck out of Lance’s long reach.
“Pidgey, I expect you to watch after Allura for me,” Lance says, plastering on his classic grin. There are a lot of things Pidge could say in response, but she settles on rolling her eyes.
After a few tearful (Coran) and not-so-tearful (everyone else) goodbyes, Keith and Lance ascend the ramp. The door shutters closed behind them.
Hunk sets his hands on his hips, drifting closer to Pidge as the team watches the pod fire up.
“This is going to be a disaster,” Hunk says. Pidge snorts.
“Most likely,” Allura agrees, with a forlorn sigh. The five of them watch silently as the pod glides out of the hangar doors, before they all begin to drift off to their own activities again, no doubt prepping for the oncoming reunion with Lotor. Pidge is unable to shake the feeling that Keith and Lance won’t return as the same people they were when they left. It’s a silly, illogical thought, and Pidge can’t quite pinpoint where the fear is coming from. She stays in the hangar, long after the shuttle has disappeared into the inky darkness of space, and hopes that the mission will be over soon.
Lance realizes, belatedly, that a transport shuttle doesn’t have much to go on in the realm of entertainment. When the shuttle door had slid closed behind him and Keith, the shorter boy had immediately started towards the pilot’s seat, before pausing stiffly and looking back at Lance.
“You good, man?” Lance had asked, striding over towards one of the passengers benches and plopping down on it with a sigh.
“No complaints? You’re going to just let me fly?” Keith asked, forehead wrinkling in confusion. Lance grinned impishly and gestured towards the pilot’s seat.
“All yours, Samurai,” Lance said. He threw his legs up on the bench and stretched his body out over the full length of it, settling in with a mock-sigh of comfort.
Keith had stared at him for several seconds more, as if he couldn’t quite believe that Lance was conceding so easily, before shrugging and sliding into the seat. The past several vargas of the trip had passed with nothing of consequence, and Lance had staved off the boredom for as long as he could.
He’d already reorganized both packs, gone through the first aid supplies and counted everything, and sprawled across every available surface of the cabin. There was only so much to do in a confined shuttle, hurtling through the middle-of-nowhere-space. So he was getting a little antsy.
“Are you physically incapable of staying still?” Keith asks, monotone, from the pilot’s seat. Lance freezes, lying upside on the bench, feet still pressed against the wall where he’d been tapping them.
“Honestly?” he says, after considering the question. “Yeah, kind of.”
“Whatever,” Keith replies, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder.
Lance frowns. “They don’t exactly sell space-Adderall on every other asteroid, dude. I’m doing my best. I’ll try to stay still, I guess.”
Keith is silent. Silent for long enough that Lance figures he’s just ignoring him now. Then, almost too quiet for Lance to hear, Keith speaks.
“Adderall?”
“Yeah. ADHD medication? I didn’t exactly remember to bring the bottle up to space with me.” Lance pulls himself upright to stare at the black hair poking out from the edges of the seat. He still doesn’t understand the physics of that mullet.
“I know what it is, I just didn’t realize you needed it,” Keith says. Lance laughs.
“You couldn’t tell from a mile away? Pidge always tells me I’m the poster-boy for ADHD.” He stands, twisting his torso this way and that to stretch, then folds himself into the seat next to Keith, who doesn’t acknowledge his proximity. “I don’t think it’s fun to be the obnoxious one. I’m not like this to like, purposely annoy you guys. My brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t function the same way, y’know?”
“I guess I just didn’t think about it,” Keith says, still not glancing Lance’s way. He shrugs a shoulder and tightens his grip on the steering controls. “Sorry for snapping.”
Lance blinks. Looks over his shoulder to see exactly who Keith is talking to, because there’s no way it’s actually him. Keith sees the movement in his peripherals and rolls his eyes.
“Look, we’re going to be stuck in here together for the next two weeks at least. We might as well try to get along,” he mumbles. Lance hums in response.
“No, you’re right. Just surprised me, I guess.”
“I’m not going to say it again.”
“I’m not asking you to, jeez!” Lance says, throwing his hands up. This is…weird. Totally weird. It’s been months since he’s had a regular conversation with Keith, and ever since he realized that he – well, he wasn’t going to think about that while alone with Keith. In a confined space. Sharing the same air. Lance kicks his feet out onto the console and slaps his hands loudly against his thighs. Keith sends a glare his way. Perfect. Lance can deal with an annoyed Keith better than he can deal with his own feelings.
Neither speaks again for a few minutes, the only sound between them the humming of the shuttle and the quiet beeping of the navigation. Lance drops his legs back down and leans toward the navigation holo, tracking the triangle icon of the shuttle with his eyes.
“So, do you know where we’re going?” he asks.
Keith nods once. “Krolia said that she’d been tracking the quintessence source for some time. Part of her undercover mission. She was on this general, Ranveig’s, base when they discovered a lead, so we’re chasing that.” Keith’s mouth tightens as his finishes explaining, and Lance takes a moment to study his face. He seems impossibly paler, after all that time hidden behind his Marmora mask, and his eyes have deep shadows beneath them. Working for Kolivan and the Blades has clearly taken a toll on Keith’s health.
“Why didn’t your mom want to come with?” Lance asks. Krolia had been clear in the transmission that she had other things to attend to, hence the Blades sending Keith back to the Castle of Lions for backup.
“She wanted to, but she had to report back to Kolivan about Ranveig’s weapon. She said something when we were fleeing the base, something about giving the other general to the weapon, not the other way around,” Keith says voice growing quieter and more stilted as he continues. “I don’t know what the weapon is, but it sounded dangerous. Krolia stayed behind to help Kolivan deal with it.”
“And now we get to find the quintessence that made something that dangerous. Great.”
“You volunteered,” Keith reminds him.
“I know,” Lance says, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “And I still think it was the right decision. This is just going to be difficult.”
“As long as we stick to the path coordinates Krolia gave us, we’ll be fine.” Keith replies.
“Is it weird?” Lance asks. Keith tilts his head slightly, dark brows drawing together in confusion.
“Following the coordinates?” he asks.
Lance snorts. “No. Knowing Krolia is your mom. Your missing Galra mom! Who would’ve thought you’d actually find her so quickly?”
Keith stiffens immediately. Great, Lance thinks, there’s that stellar brain-to-mouth filter you mentioned at work. But Keith doesn’t look ready to throw any punches, more like he’s fighting his own tongue to find the right words.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Lance says quietly. “If you don’t want to.”
“I...I guess I don’t know how I feel,” Keith says. He flexes his fingers, fanning them out around the steering controls. His hands are completely covered by the Blade suit he’s still wearing, and Lance almost misses the pale skin that would poke out in those dumb fingerless gloves he used to wear. He turns away from Keith quickly, not wanting to chase that trail of thought, to stare at his own gloved hands. Allura had insisted he wear his Paladin armor rather than a plain flight suit, just in case. He was glad for the familiarity.
“Probably doesn’t feel real yet, huh?” Lance asks. Keith shakes his head. “It’s still cool, though.”
“I guess,” Keith says. Lance can hear the way Keith is beginning to shut down, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, but can’t stop the question from leaving his lips.
“Did you guys talk at all? Like, did you get to ask why she left or get some sort of explanation?” Lance could imagine it in his head; fiery Keith, demanding to know her whereabouts for the past un-teenth years, with the same stubborn disapproval in his eyes whenever Lance made an poorly-timed joke. He also knows the reality of it, the quieter Keith that probably didn’t say a word to Krolia unless prompted.
“She wanted to, on the way back to base,” Keith answers, shoulders drawing inwards. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
When do you ever? Lance thinks. But he clamps down on the thought to keep it in place, and instead says, “That’s fine, man. Just…checking, I guess. That you’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” Keith says quickly. Lance bobs his head in response, thinks this is fine, everything is fine. We can do this.
Which is, of course, when the cluster of swirling planets comes into view and the ship begins to wobble.
It’s hardly been a full day when Allura calls everyone to the control room to view a transmission from the boys. Pidge takes off running, Hunk stumbling after with a shout. When they arrive, the remaining team members are already waiting. Allura’s face is tight with worry.
“What’s wrong?” Pidge asks, freezing in place. Hunk isn’t prepared for the sudden stop and crashes into her, nearly taking both of them to the floor. They steady themselves, and Hunk begins to panic, tapping his fingers together rapidly.
“They’re dead already, aren’t they?” he cries.
“They’re not dead, Hunk,” Shiro reassures, holding his hands out like he has to placate an agitated wild animal. The air whooshes audibly out of Hunk’s lungs as he sags forward in relief.
“They simply sent an early transmission recording,” Coran says, stroking the corners of his mustache. “Only a little early, nothing to fear.”
“It is in everyone’s best interests to view it and respond quickly, however,” Allura adds. “We are due to meet Prince Lotor shortly.”
“Play away,” Pidge replies. Allura taps a single button, and a holo screen unfolds itself to display Lance’s bleeding face. Everyone jolts at the sight, and Pidge unconsciously steps toward Hunk, who lets out a distressed gasp.
“This looks worse than it actually is,” is the first thing out of holo-Lance’s mouth. There’s a scratch along his forehead, the source of the blood, but he looks otherwise unscathed. The scenery is dark behind, and it’s impossible to tell exactly where he is.
“Liar,” a voice accuses off-screen. Lance turns to scowl at the source.
“Shut up, Keith!” he whisper-yells. Keith’s face slides into frame, looking grimy and sweaty, but without any dripping lacerations, so he’s clearly in a better state.
“Lance has a concussion, but he’s just as annoying as usual, so it must not be a bad one.” Keith’s voice is biting, but his lips draw into a tight line. If Pidge didn’t know any better, she’d say he almost looked concerned.
“Anyway,” Lance continues, ignoring the other boy. “We’ve hit a small bump in the plan. But it’s all fine! Nothing we can’t handle! We just won’t be able to transmit messages as often.”
“We’re still following the coordinates from Krolia. We’ll check in when we can,” Keith promises. “But please relay this message to Kolivan.”
“And with that, we’ll be ending the message. Your best and most capable paladins have a mission to complete.” Lance punctuates himself with a wink. Keith rolls his eyes and leans across Lance to shut the transmitter off.
“I knew this was going to be a disaster,” Hunk cries, dropping his face into his hands. Pidge pats him on the back, but knows it’s doing little to comfort.
“Princess? Should we go retrieve them? I can ready a pod or Black,” Shiro says. Allura shakes her head.
“One absent paladin is problem enough. We’ve already assured the Blades of Marmora we would keep a careful eye on Prince Lotor.” She glances at Coran, who’s begun fiddling with the console. “I’m not sure we have the time or manpower to spare.”
“And it looks like Prince Lotor is hailing us now, Princess,” Coran chimes. Allura sighs, placing a hand to her forehead.
“We must not give him a reason to be suspicious. For now, we’ll trust Keith and Lance to continue the mission as planned. Should the situation worsen, we’ll reconsider our options.”
“Rightly said, ‘Lura,” Coran murmurs in an attempt to comfort. Pidge can see that the gears in Allura’s brain are still turning. The Princess isn’t pleased with the decision she’s been stuck with, but there isn’t much they can do at the moment.
The remaining Paladins nod, fading quietly into the background as she spins to accept Lotor’s call. The sinking feeling in Pidge’s stomach that they’re resigning Lance and Keith to some terrible fate hasn’t gone away. It only increases as she watches Allura smile gently at the prince on the holo-screen.
Hunk is biting at his thumb, still shaken up from the transmission. Pidge slides a step closer to him and digs her elbow into his side. He makes a wounded noise, causing Shiro to pass them a stern look.
“They’ll be fine,” Pidge mumbles. Hunk shakes his head.
“I don’t know, man,” Hunk whispers back. “They don’t exactly know how to play nice with each other.”
Well, isn’t that the truth. Pidge bites her tongue, still searching for the right words.
“This could be the mission that changes that,” she says at last. Hunk looks about as convinced as Pidge feels on the inside.
“God, I hope so,” Hunk replies. Pidge finds that she’s begun chewing on the tip of her thumb without realizing her hand had moved, an anxious habit. She quickly wipes her hands on her pants and distracts herself by focusing on the suspicious look Hunk is fixing on Lotor’s holo-face as the purple man converses with Allura. It’ll all turn out fine. Lance and Keith are mostly capable, she reassures herself. Mostly.
The ship’s wobble is easily managed by Keith’s deft flying, but Lance is still a little freaked out by the motion.
“That doesn’t seem good, does it?” he asks. Keith, ever the wordsmith, only grunts in response.
According to the navigation system, their shuttle is still right on track. Lance shoves the panic back down, and focuses instead on the view in front of him. If the circumstances were a little different, Lance would have to admit it’s quite a beautiful sight, really. The asteroids and space matter all being pulled towards one central location, a dark planet emitting a golden haze of light in a ring around it. Upon closer inspection, it seems as if whole other planets are being ripped apart and broken the closer they get to the central planet.
With this observation, Lance’s fear spikes again. Great. They’re headed right towards an epicenter of planetary destruction.
There’s a sudden slam from above their heads, and the shuttle jerks violently with it. Both shuttle passengers look to the ceiling, then to each other.
“What was that?” Lance asks.
“I don’t know,” Keith answers, through gritted teeth. He refocuses his attention on piloting, while Lance stands up, lifting a hand towards the ceiling as if he could feel the damage from underneath. Maybe some stray space debris collided with them?
Two more clanging noises erupt from points on the shuttle. There’s a scuttling sound, and when Lance turns around, there’s a very large eye peering down at them through the shuttle’s windshield.
Lance absolutely does not scream. Well, maybe he does, but it’s a very manly scream. Right.
Keith jerks the whole shuttle to the side, attempting to shake the large eye-bug-thing off of them. Lance figures it’s safe to assume that the other two noises were just more of the same creature, but as soon as he thinks it, two more clang down onto the roof. Keith swears under his breath.
“This is bad,” Lance says.
“I noticed,” Keith says, jerking the shuttle to the other side. Lance topples into the wall. The eye-bug on the windshield has decided that it would like to join their shuttle crew and begins to ram its entire body against the window.
Lance steadies himself, thinks shit, and is immediately thrown to the ground again as Keith continues to pilot wildly.
“A little warning next time!” Lance says, from the ground. A second creature joins their buddy on the window.
“I can’t shake them,” Keith says, ignoring the request. Lance crawls towards their packs and attempts to find his helmet, to no avail. From outside the shuttle, Lance hears a loud crunch.
The shuttle starts spinning wildly. Lance manages to grip one of the packs and hug it close to his body as he’s tossed around the cabin. At the windshield, the efforts of the eye-bugs has paid off as a crack spider-webs itself across the surface.
“We need to get out of here,” Lance yells. Keith is glued to his seat with the force of the shuttle’s rotations, but he manages to glance back at Lance with exasperation.
“How?” And oh boy, if only Lance had an answer to that question.
The shuttle’s spinning is abruptly stopped as they crash into the surface of something.
Lance is thrown towards the windshield and then all he can register is pain, sharp and stinging across his face and body. He lands on something soft and spongy, sinking into the texture as his head pounds hard. He tries to fling his arms out and prop himself up, but he can’t exactly tell where his arms are. Or his legs, for that matter. Panic threatens to well up inside his chest at the lack of feeling, but before his lungs can start heaving, black crowds in at the corner of his vision and he’s overtaken by unconsciousness.
~
“-nce! Lance, wake up!”
Hands are gripping his shoulders, shaking him roughly. He bats at them with a limp hand, scrunching his eyes closed.
The voice returns, saying, “Lance, I swear to god, you better open your eyes.”
The speaker sounds grumpy and Lance is reluctant to admit that he recognizes the lilt and tone immediately. He can’t help but obey the request, and pries his eyes open.
Keith is looming above him, tendrils of hair clinging to his sweaty face and hanging down far enough to brush Lance’s chin.
“Stop shaking me so much, Mullet,” Lance says. And holy shit, is his voice really that rough? Keith sits back on his heels with a relieved sigh, giving Lance enough space to sit up.
They’re in a forest? Lance rubs his eyes, but is greeted by the same confusing scenery when he opens them. There are stubby, short trees surrounding them, tinted blue-green, and the ground beneath Lance shudders mildly. Over Keith’s shoulder, Lance can see the smoldering rubble of their transport shuttle, half-buried in the ground, which almost looks a bit flesh-like.
“What the hell,” Lance says.
Keith sighs. “We got knocked pretty far off course. I managed to crash us on to some sort of traveling creature, which is luckily heading right to where we were.”
“What the hell,” Lance repeats. Keith fixes him with a tired look. Lance tries to twist his face up in response, but when his skin pulls, his forehead stings painfully. He hisses, reaching a hand up to the spot. Keith grabs his wrist, stopping his fingers just a few centimeters from his forehead.
“You have a cut on your forehead. I wouldn’t touch it,” he explains.
Lance wriggles out of Keith’s grip and touches it anyway. The immediate pain causes Lance to hiss again, and when he pulls his fingers away, they’re coated in blood.
“That’s not good,” he says, staring in at the patchy redness staining his fingers. Keith huffs angrily.
“Idiot,” he says, pulling Lance’s hand close. He pulls a wet towelette, seemingly out of nowhere until Lance’s eyes focus enough to see that yes, one of the first aid kits is open next to him, and wipes the blood off with surprising gentleness. Once his hand is clean, Lance holds it out for the towelette and lightly dabs at his forehead with it.
“Y’know, this would be easier with a mirror,” he says, dabbing aimlessly and with little intent.
“You’re just smearing the blood all over your forehead. And the cut is still bleeding, so that’s not helping,” Keith tells him.
“Yeah, well, you’re not helping either!” Lance says, then lets his whole body deflate in a defeated slump. “Sorry.”
“You’re probably concussed,” is Keith’s only reply. Lance thinks back to that time in middle school, when a basketball rebounded just right and smacked him square in the face. His brain had felt jumbled for the next week, and looking at his math homework had made him actually cry. He compares the feeling then to the mess of his brain now and nods.
“Oh yeah, definitely,” he agrees. Keith’s mouth is a tight line.
“We can’t leave yet,” Keith says, readying to fight for the mission.
“No, definitely not. So let’s not let everyone know how bad the damage actually is,” Lance replies, nodding his head towards the object formerly known as the shuttle.
Keith blinks slowly. “What?”
“Well, I figure we need to at least let the team know that something happened, but so long as we don’t give them all the details, they can’t pull us.” Lance peers around the wreckage for the pack with the modified communicator Pidge had sent with them. He spots the pack upended in a vaguely hair-like bush and rolls onto his knees to begin shuffling towards it.
“You’re okay with going on?” Keith asks, bewildered. Lance shoots a glare over his shoulder as he crawls away at a turtle-pace.
“Why would you say we can’t leave and then get surprised when I agree? How does that work?!”
Keith blinks again, growing wary. “I don’t know, I just figured you’d...I don’t know, that you’d-”
“Tap out this early? No way, dude. This is the first time in months I’ve done anything cool. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me. Now, get over here. I don’t remember Pidge’s exact instructions.” Lance digs the communicator-transmitter-thingy out of the pack and waves it around menacingly. Or at least, in a way he thinks is menacing.
Keith doesn’t move at first, still fighting the shell-shock of actually being in agreement with Lance, for once. But Lance gives the communicator a little flourish in his direction, and Keith snaps back into action, quickly making his way over and grabbing the communicator away. Lance grins triumphantly. He looks around him, taking stock of the weird forest-flesh-animal they’re currently hitching a ride on and sincerely hopes that Keith is ready to lie his ass off. Otherwise, this mission is toast.