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let it burst (out of you like a star); element 3 - Poor Atlas

Working Title: i’m so sorry lance

also on ao3

Lance stared at Hunk intently, singing Barbie Girl as loudly as he could at him. Keith and Pidge sat near him, probably thinking about stupid haircuts and universal domination. Hunk stared right past them at a point between Lance and Pidge, his eyes unfocused and nearly crossed. Allura sat beside Hunk, legs folded beneath her, arm on the back of the couch and chin on her fist, studying the yellow paladin as he trained.

“Focus on your mother, Hunk,” she reminded him gently. Hunk chewed on his lip and nodded tersely, his eyes regaining some measure of focus as he called his mother to the forefront of his mind. He loved Lance, sure, but he was definitely a momma’s boy, so it wasn’t too difficult to block out Lance’s screeching.

Lance watched it happen; he could nearly see the wall falling into place as Hunk successfully blocked them out.

“Holy crow, I missed the silence,” Hunk muttered as he slumped down next to Allura. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, it’s been three months. It can’t be that bad,” she said, without venom. Hunk pouted at her.

“Oh sure, it’s easy for you to say. You have Audrey and I’m sure it’s great, polite company,” he said. Pidge smirked.

“Yeah, it is. Nice and quiet half the time,” she said fondly. Hunk gestured to her.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I mean! You don’t get super inappropriate thoughts from someone else’s head rattling through your consciousness,” he fired back. Lance bit back the urge to cough and hoped that his ears weren’t turning too red. He knew Hunk wouldn’t say anything, though - Hunk was his best friend in the entire universe, and entirely too polite for that kind of gossiping.

“Well, are you hearing anything else from them?” Allura asked, glancing at Keith, who was the only one actively thinking anything at Hunk at this point. Hunk shook his head, a relieved smile on his face.

“Nope, not even an impression,” he said. “And it’s not that hard, either. Like, I’m not maintaining anything. Their thoughts just aren’t there.” Allura beamed at him.

“Excellent, Hunk!” She looked at the others. “Now, let’s reverse this process with a little more finesse, shall we? Try to open yourself again, but only to Keith,” she instructed.

Lance shifted his eyes over to Keith, who had had his eyes closed through the whole exercise. The red paladin furrowed his brow a little and thinned his lips into a line, focusing his thoughts at Hunk. He flicked his gaze to Pidge to make sure that she wasn’t watching, waiting for a chance to pounce on him like a damn harpy and tease him. Fortunately, she was focused on Hunk as well, and so Lance allowed himself to look back at Keith (covertly, of course). He couldn’t help that his lip curled just a little. He wondered what Keith’s ability would be. Probably super strength, or firebreathing. Would that make his mouth hot? Oh, he hoped so.

Hunk groaned and dropped his head into his hand.

Heh, sorry buddy, Lance thought. He chuckled to himself and tried to focus on something a little cleaner, like the Barney theme song. He thought it at Hunk as loudly as he could, and he was halfway through the Bubble Guppies theme when Hunk leapt off the couch, cheering his own success.

“Were you successful?” Allura asked.

“I mean, as long as Pidge and Lance didn’t stop, then yeah. I couldn’t hear them at all, only Keith!” he said excitedly. Allura clapped her hands together.

“That’s wonderful, Hunk! Now it should be easy for you to keep them blocked and open yourself to them at your leisure. This is going to be incredibly useful when the five of you can’t afford to so much as whisper through your comm-links,” she said. Hunk looked at his friends thoughtfully.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” he said. Allura nodded.

“I’m sure that eventually, you’ll be able to focus on their thoughts more completely and receive reports from them from wherever they may be,” she guessed. Hunk paled a little at that.

“I don’t know if I want to be that important,” he muttered. Allura frowned, and Lance squinted at Hunk.

“What do you mean, Hunk? You’re already that important,” Lance argued, a little more loudly than was necessary.

“Lance is right. Voltron cannot be without you, Hunk. You’re no less important than anyone else on this ship,” the princess said as she stood. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “And your ability makes you more of your own person. Own it, and none can ever say that you’re less than your team in any capacity.”

Lance flopped back onto the couch opposite Hunk and Allura, pouting.

“When do you think the rest of us will notice something magic-y?” he whined. “It’s been months. When am I going to be shooting ice beams out of my eyes?”

“I’m not sure, Lance,” Allura said with a shrug. “And there’s no way to tell what your ability will be. I will say, though, that the previous blue paladin was the last to attain her abilities, and they proved somewhat... troublesome.” Lance sat up, and even Keith and Pidge turned curious eyes to the princess. They took seats on either side of Lance, leaning forward and gazing at the princess expectantly.

“Story time, princess!” Lance teased, fitting his chin into his palms. Allura smiled, though she seemed a little tense about the subject.

“She had an incredible bond with the blue lion, but hers was the last ability to manifest. It caused quite a lot of trouble before she learned to control it.” She paused, allowed herself to appear somewhat wistful. “I was older when her abilities presented, so I remember quite well. She could... liquefy herself. Simply dematerialize into water.”

Lance and Pidge gaped at her, and Hunk choked on his cup of water. Even Keith’s eyes were wide.

“What about her clothes and bayard?” Keith asked.

“Even those. A paladin’s armour is unique, as is their bayard. Both respond, on some level, to the subconscious of the paladin. That’s why, at first, all of your bayards only had one shape,” she explained.

“Why was it an issue? That sounds so badass!” Lance said.

“Because when it first manifested, no one could find her for two days. She existed as a puddle in the corner of the training deck until she managed to reassemble herself,” Allura said with a small smile. “In retrospect, it is rather amusing. At the time, though, it was very unsettling. It didn’t take her long to learn to control it, but we were all very careful to not step in puddles from then on.”

“So is that what’s going to happen to me? I’ll just be in the middle of kicking Keith’s ass one day-”

“As if,” Keith muttered.

“-and just collapse into water and stay that way until I can figure it out?” Lance could hear his voice escalating just slightly. “I like to swim but I don’t want to be the water!” He felt Keith shift next to him, could feel the heat from his body a little more acutely. He tried to focus on that instead of getting stuck as a puddle indefinitely.

“I doubt it,” Allura said slowly, calmly. “Pidge and Hunk both have completely different skillsets than the previous paladins. The abilities seem to be unique to each of you, and in a way, reflect your personalities. When your ability comes through, I’m sure it will feel like it’s always been a part of you.” Pidge nodded, throwing an arm around Lance’s shoulders.

“She’s right. It kind of feels like I was always meant to do this- this, whatever it is I can do with plants,” she said, waving her other hand. “I’m looking forward to finding another planet with more plants, to test myself further.”

“You’ll get your chance soon, Pidge,” Allura said with a smirk. “We’ve received a request for help from a planet that’s been resisting the Galra for quite some time. They believe there’s a spy among their council, and they’ve requested our assistance in extraction and interrogation. We’ll arrive tomorrow.” Pidge’s eyes glittered in a way that made Lance twitchy.

“Oh, good,” she purred. Pidge was a terrifying interrogator, they’d discovered. And of course, she’d matured over the years, and was very far from unattractive by any standard. She had long dark lashes, short, wild hair, and a proclivity for lulling people into a false sense of security with her adorable face before she made even seasoned, vicious Galra soldiers cry for their mothers. She and Keith would often team up for the Voltron edition of good cop, bad cop, except it was more like bad cop, scary bad cop. Pidge was the latter, and none ever saw it coming. Lance almost felt bad for the spy.

Pidge twisted to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. She muttered something about going to her hangar to work, but Lance wasn’t really focusing on her. He absently waved to Allura when she left, and grunted noncommittally to Hunk when the latter mentioned cooking something in a little while. He was so concentrated on what it would be like to exist for a week as a puddle of water that he ignored Keith snapping his fingers in front of his face for a few seconds. He blinked up at him.

“Heh, sorry, man. When you’re as smart as I am-”

“Save it, Lance,” Keith interjected, not unkindly. “You probably won’t get washed down your shower drain tonight, so you can chill,” he said, rolling to his feet, his thigh brushing against Lance’s as he rose. “Whatever your ability is, it’ll show eventually. Just maybe not before mine does,” he said with a smirk, winking down at Lance. Lance’s eyebrows knit together, but he grinned as he launched himself to his feet.

“As if, pretty boy! My ability is going to manifest so hard, you won’t be able to move!” he challenged. Keith’s smirk softened, and he clapped a hand to Lance’s shoulder.

“If you say so, buddy. See you on the training deck later?” he asked. Lance nodded.

“I think I can squeeze you into my super busy schedule,” he said dramatically. Keith rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face as he walked away. Lance tried to ignore the the way his heart had escalated its beat without his express permission, tried not to stare at Keith’s sinfully pert ass as he left the lounge.

Lance shook his head and decided to mosey back to his room for some old fashioned, head clearing yoga. He thought about pestering Pidge, but she was working on something big, according to Hunk, who was helping her with it. The two were surprisingly tight lipped about it, but Lance knew better than to bother the green paladin when she was absorbed in a project. He liked all of his limbs right where they were, thanks.

He changed into a pair of sleek blue leggings and threw on a black tank top before stretching with some basic sun salutations and warrior poses. Once he felt sufficiently warm, he dropped to the floor and contorted his body into an eight-angle, and lifted himself up. He held the position for ten seconds longer than his previous record, and by the time he lowered himself again, his shoulder muscles were screaming at him and a thin sheen of sweat had painted itself across his body. He worked his way through several more advanced poses, including a Halasana that would make a nun sweat. He was just settling into his favourite part of yoga, corpse pose, when Shiro poked is head through Lance’s door.

“Sleeping?” he teased. Lance tilted his head back to look at Shiro.

“Yoga,” he said. “Beat last month’s eight-angle time.”

“Good! You’ll have to show us that one sometime,” Shiro said. Lance grinned up at him.

“Sure thing, chief.”

“Anyway, Allura wants to see us. She said she’s got information about the planet we’ll be helping tomorrow,” Shiro said. Lance agilely twisted to his feet and followed Shiro out of his room, opting to continue barefoot instead of wasting time with shoes.

“So what’s this planet called, anyway?” he asked.

“Calrex, I think,” Shiro responded. “I don’t know anything else, but Allura said she wanted to share something pertinent about the inhabitants. Apparently they’re... different,” he said mildly.

“They’re aliens,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “None of them are normal. Or even normal-ish. I think the last ones that were even passably normal were the Lenetians, and they were literally lizards pretending to be human.” Shiro chuckled, recalling the reptilian race clearly. They were allies now, but they were definitely odd. They arrived at the bridge of the castleship to see that everyone else was already there, though they were just settling into their seats. Allura and Coran stood by the holoscreen, speaking quietly to one another. The other paladins shifted to watch Shiro and Lance enter the room.

“Finally,” Pidge sighed. She stretched her legs out, slouching down in her seat. “I’m dying to know what’s so weird about these things that Allura had to call a conference.” Lance hurried to his seat and clambered over the armrests, just as eager as Pidge. After Shiro had made his way to his control seat, Allura waved a hand and pulled up a holoscreen. A bright white city surrounded by a river and a field of what looked to be crops of some sort illuminated the room.

“Human impatience,” she mumbled affectionately. “The planet Calrex is a fairly standard planet by any means. Its geography is fairly unobtrusive and plain, with no flora or fauna that will try to do us harm.”

“Little miracles,” Keith said quietly. Pidge snorted, not unkindly, and Keith stuck his tongue out at her. Lance watched with a smirk on his face, his blue eyes narrowing playfully -

Hunk groaned, tipping his head down into his hand. “Lance-” The blue paladin let out a nervous chuckle, silently apologising to Hunk before clearing his throat and turning back to focus very solely on Allura.

“The Calrexans themselves, however, are the cause for this meeting.” She waved her hand again and the image on the holoscreen changed. Lance’s eyes widened as he took in the image before him. The creature on the screen was humanoid, that much was clear. Tall, slender, with sloping shoulders that gave it an oval shape and arms that extended to the middle of its legs. Lance supposed there were knees, maybe, but there was no distinction or curves to the legs whatsoever. Its head was smooth and hairless, with sunken yellow eyes and a hooked nose. Its mouth was lipless as far as he could tell, and it barely had any chin at all. Its physique was strange enough, to be sure, but the most startling feature was that liquid coursed over its entire body. There seemed to be a thin layer of skin like wet brown tissue paper that hid - organs? bones? confetti? - whatever was inside of it, but that was very clearly beneath at least an inch of constantly moving, thickly opaque liquid.

“What the fuck,” Pidge said slowly, not moving from her slouched position. Her face, however, mirrored Lance and Hunk’s - they all wore an expression of confused terror.

“A Calrexan’s blood is thick, viscous, nearly see-through, and it flows on the outside of their body, acting as a shield in addition to sustaining their life,” Allura explained. “They don’t leave footprints of this blood, nor will it transfer to any surface they touch. It has never been explained; if their doctors know anything about their own physiology, which I’m sure they do, they’ve never cared to share their secrets.”

“Which has served them well,” Coran added. “The Galra have been unable to develop a standard issue weapon that can damage them with enough of an impact to take over.”

“Why haven’t they just blown up the planet?” Keith asked.

“There must be something on the planet that the Galra aren’t willing to destroy,” Shiro mused, rubbing at his chin. Coran smiled grimly.

“Precisely. Below the surface of the planet, amidst the rock, are great concentrations of anitmatter. The Galra want this as an alternate source of power,” he said.

“What about quintessence?” Lance asked.

“If they obliterate too many planets, what have they to rule?” Allura asked bitterly. “What leverage have they got? They gather a planet’s quintessence sparingly, despite the benefits it grants the druids. The antimatter could be processed in a way that the finished product greatly resembles quintessence in its abilities,” she said.

“So what’s stopped them from going in with ion cannons and wiping out the entire population?” Pidge wondered.

“The Calrexans are famously strong, physically speaking. A kelgak of them could lift this castle,” Allura said. “Coupled with their blood resistance, it is nearly impossible to take them down with a force of ground troops.”

“And they don’t want to risk damaging the planet because of the antimatter,” Hunk said. Allura nodded. “So that’s why they’ve resisted so well for so long. What do they need us for, then?”

“They believe one of their own has defected to the Galra. The small council worries that he will give himself up for experimentation, enabling the Galra to dismantle them, so to say, and figure a way to penetrate their blood resistance and take them out,” Allura said. “If they can do that, they can-”

“Reverse engineer armour out of it,” Pidge said solemnly. “Shit.”

“Do they know who it may be?” Shiro asked.

“They believe they do, but they didn’t want to risk a communication breach. We’ll be arriving tomorrow morning, so I would suggest rest.” Allura eyed Keith and Pidge with amusement. “And perhaps a little practicing in your diplomacy.” Keith and Pidge grinned sheepishly at one another; neither were exactly known for their level-headedness in delicate negotiations. Lance stood and stretched, bending backwards at an impossible angle.

“I’m already smooth, so I think I’ll just hit the sack,” he declared loudly. He straightened back up just as Hunk let out a distressed cry and jolted out of his seat.

“You all are the worst,” he grumbled without venom, slumping from the room with his hands over his ears. Lance watched him go, one eyebrow quirked upward. He glanced back at his teammates, prepared to shrug, but they were all staring at him, even Allura and Coran were staring. Pidge and Keith were smirking and Shiro looked so very exasperated.

“What are you all looking at me for?” he pouted. “I’m not always singing dirty songs, yanno,” he grumbled. Mouth fixed in a perfect moue, he stalked from the room, though his body had no true agitation in its posture. He’d long ago given up on staying angry or irritated with his fellow paladins for trivial things like teasing. He knew it was all in good fun, and he gave as good as he got. It was like trying to stay angry with his littlest sister; his teammates could be goons, but they were his goons, and there was no sense arguing with them over trifles.

As he prepared his armour for the next day, he tried very hard not to think of Mari. No sense being sad either, Lance, he told himself.

(What a liar.)

---

The great city that housed the small council was simply called The City. Great buildings of some glimmering, porous white stone thrust upwards toward the sky, which was blue and something of a comfort to the paladins. Some of the buildings were tall and narrow, others were slender and arched over and under one another, creating tunnels and bridges similar to cholla wood. Great sections of the city were brightly coloured - painted with reds, golds, greens, yellows, and blues in wide, streaking murals that didn’t seem to depict anything so much as they were used to break up the whiteness. The streets were made of the same white stone, polished to a shine that probably would have blinded them if there had been sunlight. Or any sun at all, really - the planet didn’t seem to have one. All of the light seemed to emanate from the stark whiteness of the stone.

The castle remained in orbit, and the paladins had flown their lions down to the designated landing plot just outside The City. Allura accompanied them, and Coran and the mice remained in the castle to monitor things from there. Upon their exit from their lions, they were greeted by two of the strange Calrexans, along with a hose of what they assumed to be were guards. The inhabitants of the planet did not wear clothes, and Lance supposed there wasn’t much of a reason for clothes or armour if their weird.. blood... shell thing protected them. The guards carried no weapons, just stood tall and imposing behind two others. The first was taller and looked older, if there were such a way for a humanoid blob of mud to achieve that. He was taller even than Shiro, and he looked down his long, hooked nose at the black paladin. The second Calrexan was slightly shorter and stood just a step behind the first. His yellow eyes were wider and he leaned forward inquisitively.

“We greet and welcome you, honoured paladins,” the first spoke. His sharp yellow eyes softened and his lipless mouth stretched into a smile. Lance thought it was creepy as hell, but it was a smile, which was better than a face full of lasers. “I am Asid, High Chancellor of the small council. This is my son, Felan’is.” He gestured with one long, sticky looking arm to the Calrexan behind him. He certainly had a younger countenance to him, and he smiled widely, revealing that there were no teeth within his mouth.

“Welcome, paladins!” he said excitedly. He rolled up onto the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back, tilting his head curiously. Undaunted, Shiro stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Thank you, High Chancellor. It’s an honour,” he said smoothly, a polite smile fixed on his face. Asid reached out and shook Shiro’s hand, maintaining eye contact. When they broke apart, Shiro simply let his hand fall to his side. This seemed to please Asid, for he smiled a little more broadly. “My name is Shiro, and the others are Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Keith, and Princess Allura of Altea,” the black paladin introduced.

“Words cannot express how grateful we are for your assistance in this matter,” Asid said. He spread his hands. “We welcome you to Calrex, and we welcome the end of this trouble.”

“I can only imagine how terrifying it must be to have resisted for so long only to have a spy infiltrate your ranks now,” Allura said. “We will do all we can to assist you.” Asid sighed in relief.

“That is good to hear, my Princess,” he said quietly. “Please, let us hasten back to the Central Palace. I hope that you will forgive my hastiness, but we haven’t any time to tarry.”

“Certainly,” Allura said graciously. “There will be far more time for pleasantries once we’ve dealt with the spy.”

---

Not even an hour later, the paladins and Princess Allura were seated at the small council table with Asid and Felan’is, along with the other three members of the small council. Mersal, Senesh, and Jerhan greeted the paladins and Princess Allura just as warmly as Asid. Allura sat demurely at the table, her hands upon its polished white surface, one hand resting on her own wrist.

“Forgive my impertinence, High Chancellor, councilmen, but I am getting the feeling that things are far more progressed than we imagined,” she said diplomatically. Asid placed his hands upon the table as well, and Lance marveled again at how no marks were left behind by his... ooze. The viscous liquid flowed all over his body continuously, making no sound whatsoever. It looked thick, like glue, opaque enough to see the thin brown shell beneath it all. It was weird. Super weird. Four hundred weird. Weirder than Pidge’s plant thing, weirder than-

Hunk nudged him with his elbow.

He blinked back up at Asid.

“You are correct, Princess. Things have worsened considerably in such a short time,” he said sadly. “We are certain the spy is on the large council. He is Calrexan, like us. No Galra could possibly match our strength, and their conventional weapons cannot harm us. You must understand something about our species, Princess. We..” Felan’is placed his hand on his father’s long, sloping shoulder.

“We are a very long lived race, similar to the Alteans, you see,” he said. “We have laws in place, ancient laws that we hold to very strictly. We are forbidden from researching any aspect of our own physiology.”

“The elders of our race are wise,” Senesh said sagely.

“You don’t want to understand how your bodies work for fear of someone, like the Galra, using it against you,” Pidge supplied.

“Or anyone else,” Jerhan said with a nod.

“But the druids of the Galra can bypass our millennia of willful ignorance, tear us apart and build our bodies upon their own soldiers,” Asid said, his voice quavering. “We cannot let that happen.”

“Understood,” Shiro said firmly. Lance flicked his eyes over at Shiro. As per usual, there was no judgment, no condescension in his grey eyes. Just a resolve to accomplish the task to which they were set. “We will do everything in our power to make sure your people and your physical traits are never weaponized.” Felan’is smiled broadly again. It still unnerved Lance, though the young Calrex seemed affable enough, and was very cooperative.

“With your arrival, we believe the traitor will panic. We are not a warlike people, you must know. A threat of your magnitude will frighten them into action,” Mersal said.

“So you’re expecting something to occur tonight?” Allura asked, her eyebrows raising.

“It makes sense to anticipate it, yes. The small and large councils have been aware of your arrival for several days now. This evening, there will be a small banquet held for you; nothing lavish, you see. We need a gathering, but nothing so large that we cannot keep keen eyes on what is happening,” Jerhan said.

Oh my god, like a plot device in a book. I guess sabotage is universal, Lance thought to himself, more amused than anything. Beside him, Hunk bit back a soft snort of laughter. Lance smirked. Yeah, you think it’s funny now, but someone always sneaks off during a turning point party and makes out with someone. And usually it’s the put-upon best friend who walks in on-

Hunk jabbed at his side again. Shiro squinted across the table at them, his mouth turning down in a disappointed moue. Lance winced a little; Shiro’s disappointment was almost worse than whatever the Galra could cook up.

“Do you have any defenses in place?” Shiro asked, turning his attention back to Asid and the others. Asid shook his head.

“No. We’ve never had the need, you see. We are peaceful, and nothing has ever been a threat to us before, nor have we made to threaten anyone else,” he said.

“So we have nothing to go over in preparation for whatever happens tonight,” Keith said tightly. Asid looked stressed. Shiro placed a hand on Keith’s arm, quieting him. Keith bristled, but sat back in his chair. Beside Lance, Hunk bit his lip to conceal a smile. Lance quirked an eyebrow at them. Hunk huffed a little through his nose, but turned his attentions back to the Calrexans. Keith met Lance’s gaze; his mouth turned upward in a small smile, and he rolled his eyes quickly, discreetly.

Lance’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked rapidly at Keith before flashing him a radiant smile. Keith didn’t seem worried about this situation. The Galra weren’t even on this planet. This should be a simple mission, and then they could get back to business. Well, this sort of was their business, though usually it involved freeing planets that were already under the empire’s thumb. It wasn’t often that they got the chance to work with a group who weren’t already dominated.

“We are not warriors,” Asid said tiredly. “We are scholars, architects, artists. War is not something we particularly excel in, except the guards.”

“That’s good though, isn’t it?” Pidge proposed, leaning forward. The small council looked at her in confusion, with the exception of Felan’is, who was wide-eyed with curiosity. “If this traitor is on the large council, then he’s not trained to fight back. He may be strong, but he’s got no technique. We’re not aiming to disable his blood resistance, like the Galra. We just need to subdue and imprison him. All that strength is wasted if he’s not going to be able to use it properly,” she reasoned. “I’d bet one of your guards could take him out on that merit alone.”

Five pairs of yellow eyes blinked at her, and then Felan’is broke into another one of his disarming grins.

“What a brilliant one she is!” he exclaimed. Pidge smiled, only a little smug. Shiro smiled warmly at her.

“That’s our Pidge,” he said fondly, casting his approving gaze on her. This time she flushed with pride, settling back in her seat.

“The only problem is that members of the large council have their own guards. Likely he has convinced them to remain loyal no matter what,” Senesh countered. Pidge shrugged.

“That’s true, but what are his few guards against the guards of literally everyone else on the council, plus all of Voltron?” she said. “This isn’t going to end well for him.”

“Well, I think the only thing we can do is familiarize ourselves with the Central Palace. Aside from the obvious points of his blood resistance and his own guards, his only advantage may be that of the native ground,” Allura said. She looked at Lance for approval. He smiled and nodded, which made her beam with pride. She meant to say ‘home field advantage’, as he’d been teaching her Earth slang, but somehow, native ground came out instead. He thought native ground sounded so much more... well, more Allura, anyway.

“It’s a better than what we had before,” Asid said wearily.

“We didn’t have anything before, Father,” Felan’is said, tilting his head. Mersal shook his head and Jerhan let out a quiet sigh.

---

After being shown the banquet room, the paladins and Allura were led back to their suites, which were a series of bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a commons. Lance vaulted over the back of a couch and sprawled out on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It was vaulted, arching high above them and made out of the same white stone as the rest of The City. A mural of a vast flower field was painted upon it, and it was so beautiful that it suddenly made sense to Lance why nearly everyone on the planet was an artist.

Pidge sat behind his legs, throwing hers over his knees, and Keith sat next to his head. They both peered down at him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Pidge asked. Lance pointed upward. They craned their heads back to look, as did did the others. Hunk let out a low whistle.

“It’s as pretty as the Sistine Chapel,” he wondered aloud.

“Maybe Michelangelo was an alien,” Pidge said with a grin.

“Or maybe he was taught by an alien,” Keith suggested.

“Let’s focus on these aliens, first,” Shiro reasoned. Lance tipped two fingers to his forehead and gave a little mock salute, still lying on his back.

“Major Buzzkill,” he teased. Keith huffed a laugh beside him, and Lance grinned widely. At this point in their relationship, Shiro had no problem flipping Lance off, and he did so, which made Pidge cackle.

“I think we should split up,” Allura interceded.

“Okay, Daphne.” Allura narrowed her eyes at Lance, who was still grinning.

“The older you all get, the more childish you become,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. Shiro sighed heavily.

“I agree with Allura. All of us don’t need to know every inch of the palace, but we should know the majority of it. The traitor can’t have many guards; even Asid himself only has two. And I don’t think he’ll strike before tonight,” he said.

“Should we go in teams?” Keith asked, dragging out the ‘should’ in a somewhat playful manner. Shiro twitched his mouth to the side, considering the option.

“I don’t think it’s necessary, given the circumstances. If we happen to meet up with each other in our wanderings, that’s fine, but I think we should all pick a different place to explore first,” he said. Beside him, Hunk began chuckling, but quickly cut himself off with a cough. Shiro turned to him. “I’d keep your ability.. uh, on?” Shiro rubbed the back of his head. “Is that accurate?” Hunk shrugged.

“More or less. Default seems to be “listening”, so I haven’t really remembered that I need to shut down yet,” he said.

“Well, keep listening. That way, if any of us is in trouble, we can let you know,” Shiro said with a nod. Lance twisted to his feet, still feeling loose from that morning’s yoga.

“Well, I’m going to splitsville before Shiro puts on an ascot,” he said.

“You five begin exploring. I’m having Coran shuttle a pod down with your formal armour, and I’m going to retrieve it. It should be landing near the lions,” Allura said. “Please, all of you, be careful. And polite,” she added as an afterthought.

---

Lance wandered down a bright, wide corridor, swinging his arms back and forth. He wished he’d brought his casual clothes down - he kind of wanted to stuff his hands into the pockets of his coat. Roaming down a hallway, doing nothing more than making mental notes of alcoves, outcroppings, and hideaways made the armour seem excessive. Sure, he looked damn good in it, all broad shoulders, lean waist, long legs. Yeah, he was fine, but his coat still fit him after all these years and poking around in a palace didn’t really require armour.

He came upon a small bump-out with a carved bench and some narrow potted plants. He stepped into it, bringing his foot up and shoving at the bench. Sturdy, but not bolted down. He glanced upward, noting the smooth vaulted ceiling. Nothing special, but the whole thing was enough for an ambush. Noted.

A little way ahead of him, the hall curved sharply, and he followed it. There were several doors on his right and a series of windows along the entire wall to his left. He peered out through one of the windows; there was a courtyard of some sort, it seemed. Mature trees? yeah, he figured they were trees, and flowers were packed in. The area seemed narrow, but very deep - it extended all the way up the corridor. There were no doors on his side, either, so Lance decided to not worry about it. One of the others would see to it, or he’d meet up with them later, or.. whatever. He shrugged and crossed the hall, knocking on the first door. No response came from inside, but the door was ajar.

“Jinkies,” he muttered to himself with a smirk. He nudged the door open with his foot and slipped inside. It seemed to be a guest quarters, just a single room with a door on the other side that presumably led to a washroom. The bed had the vague shape of a clam, which was weird, and furniture like a vanity and end tables carved out of stone. Lance wandered over and pulled on a drawer experimentally. It didn’t so much as budge. Not even a little jiggle. He frowned at it, tugged harder. Nothing.

“You’re just determined to crush my delicate sensibilities, aren’t you?” he asked the drawer. The drawer didn’t answer. “Rude,” he huffed. He wrapped both of his hands around the handle and pulled. Still nothing. Frowning now, he bent low, planted his toes against the legs of the table, and heaved -

And fell right back on his ass.

Scowling, he flopped onto his back, only to startle as he saw Keith staring down at him. “What the hell, Keith!” The red paladin grinned and crouched down, flicking Lance’s forehead. Lance crinkled his nose. How did I not hear him? “Wait, how long were you there? I just got here!”

“Long enough to hear you insulting inanimate objects, dummy,” Keith said with a chuckle. Scowling again, he lifted his hands over his head and shoved at Keith’s knees, causing him to fall back with a grunt. He squirmed around until he was sitting on his knees, facing Keith. “That door over there links to a bathroom, or the Calrexan equivalent of a bathroom because it’s weird, which is attached to another room just like this on the other side.”

“And did you try opening a drawer?” Lance asked in an accusatory tone. Keith shrugged.

“Well, yeah.” Lance blinked, then grinned at him. A few years ago, Keith would have denied doing the same foolish think he’d done just on the principle that it would be something he had in common with Lance. Now Keith was admitting to this kind of goofy shit freely. It made Lance’s chest feel tight, made him want to -

He cut his train of thought off, shaking his head. He stood fluidly, extending his hand to Keith, who hesitated half a moment before placing his fingers into Lance’s and pulling himself up. Lance’s eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest for the second time that day. He’d been expecting Keith to grab his forearm, not the tips of his fingers, and he’d hauled him up with a little more force. Keith overbalanced for a moment, rocking dangerously close to Lance’s chest. Lance froze, leaving Keith to reach out and reflexively grab at Lance’s bicep, his breath rushing out of him momentarily.

This was it. RIP in pieces Lance Mc-fucking-clain, slaughtered mercilessly by fluttering eyelashes and overwhelming gay thoughts about his teammate. Sorry for letting you down, Universe, but this is how I’d rather go out - unable to move with the world’s fastest forming quarter chub in an alien bedroom.

But Keith stepped backward with the barest of flushes across his pale face, mumbling an apology, and Lance could feel life flooding back into him. Or maybe it was just his blood returning to its rightful place in his brain. Really, what difference was there? He released Lance’s arm and his hand, and Lance absolutely refused to believe that his hand reflexively reached for Keith’s before he yanked it back to his side and held it there, definitely not shaking a little. At all. No-ope.

“Trying to send me through a wall?” Keith asked, chuckling, scratching at the back of his head.

“Huh - oh! Ha-ha,” he breathed, trying to go for naive and instead sounding nervous (smooth fucking move). “Just making sure you remember I can kick your ass now.” Keith snorted, rolling his eyes and turning away.

“As if.” Lance exhaled noiselessly, closing his eyes in relief for half a second. The tension had melted from between them, and he followed Keith as he made his way to the door Lance had come in through. “I’ve already been up and down the hallway on the other side, so should we keep going on your side?”

“Yeah, that works. There’s a garden on the other side of the hall, and I want to find the entrance to it to see what’s up with it,” Lance said. They wandered out into the hall and Lance took to humming songs under his breath so that he wouldn’t say anything stupid about Keith’s mullet, like how he should never ever cut it or how soft it looked. The rest of the doors led into bedrooms similar to the one they’d met in, except there was no exit. Same weird clam bed, same immovable stone furniture. Keith’s same shitty jokes, asking Lance if he wanted to try moving the vanity or the stool. Lance shoved him into a wall and danced right out of the way of the red paladin’s swiping grasp.

They still hadn’t found a door to the garden, however, and the windows didn’t have any latches on them that would enable them to be pushed open and climbed through. Every other window was a stained glass piece of art, depicting a myriad of things - flora and fauna, the construction of buildings, the worship of some light in the sky. They were beautiful, but Lance really wanted to find a door and see if there were any advantages to be had in the garden. They turned a corner, the courtyard still on their left, when Keith seized Lance’s wrist in an iron grip.

“What -”

“Lance,” he breathed earnestly, fearfully. “Shiro!”

Lance followed Keith’s gaze into the garden, where the black paladin was fending off the attacks of a Calrexan. Shiro ducked under a low tree branch as one sticky looking hand came down and shattered it into thousands of splinters. He rolled, bayard in hand, then thrust it forward. A grappling chain rushed toward the Calrexan, attempting to bind its legs together. It easily broke the hold, purple particles flying as the bayard dematerialized. The Calrexan lumbered toward Shiro, arm poised. Shiro’s face was soaked in sweat, his hair plastered sideways across his forehead. How long had this been going on? Where was Hunk? Why couldn’t they hear the fight?

“We have to get to him!” Keith shouted, rushing forward and slamming his fist against the glass. It shuddered, but didn’t make so much as a cracking noise in its frame. Without thinking, Lance drew his bayard and formed a bright white and blue bow.

“Move!” he ordered. Keith didn’t even look back at him; he jumped out of the way and Lance fired an energy arrow in the same breath, shattering the glass. He and Keith leapt through the hole, racing toward Shiro.

“Shiro!” Keith shouted. Neither Shiro nor the Calrexan looked up, too embroiled in combat to lose focus. Shiro lit his cybernetic arm and shoved his fist into the Calrexan’s abdomen. It stumbled backward half a step, but that barely slowed its advance. Keith pulled out his bayard and summoned his sword, slashing at the Calrexan’s back with all the strength he could muster. The blade barely bit into the blood shield; Keith’s downward swing was slowed, as if caught in molassas. He pulled the blade back, and then stabbed into the creature. The blood shield caught his sword and jarred it out of his hand, and he watched in surprise as his bayard fell to the ground.

“Keith!” Shiro grunted. Keith saw the arm swinging toward him and nearly ducked out of the way fast enough, but the limb clipped him and sent him flying into a shrubbery some ten feet away.

Lance fired three energy arrows at it in quick succession, but they were absorbed into the blood shield and didn’t seem to effect the Calrexan any more than Keith’s sword had. It had turned its attention back to Shiro, who managed to parry a swing from its arm with his cybernetic one, though he cried out in pain as his shoulder twisted back. Lance shot another energy arrow into its head, which seemed to distract it slightly.

“Shiro, we’ve got to get out of here, our weapons are completely useless and I really don’t feel like dyin’ here!” Lance shouted. He swore he saw Shiro shake his head, but that couldn’t be it, because Lance knew that Shiro was, in fact, quite sane, and would never suggest staying here and being beaten into the ground by goddamn snotty blood monster. The Calrexan kicked out with one of its shapeless legs, knocking Shiro’s feet out from under him.The black paladin didn’t fall, though, because it grabbed Shiro’s cybernetic arm and hauled him into the air.

“S-Shiro!” Keith groaned, his face cut and bleeding, limping slightly as he tried to get to Shiro.

Lance could feel anxiety wash over him, smothering him, blanketing the adrenaline of battle. His vision wavered, his focus fading in and out along with his hearing. How could they possibly defeat an enemy that couldn’t be hurt by anything they did? And these stupid aliens didn’t even understand how their own bodies worked, so he couldn’t just tickle its armpits and make it lose control of its limbs. This was a virtually indestructible force that was railing against them and currently was about to murder their leader, his friend, his family. It was that damn blood resistance of theirs, but it absorbed every attack, shifting around every blade that bit and every arrow that pierced. There wasn’t any way to stop it, to dismantle it, to -

A piercing scream fractured the veil of anxiety that had fallen over Lance. Its pitch wavered from deep to much higher pitched, and then cut off with a gruesome gurgle. Lance cast his gaze about wildly, snapping back to Shiro and the Calrexan as Shiro was dropped out of its grasp. He fell to the ground and immediately put a knee under himself, pressing to his feet and stumbling backwards as he clutched his shoulder. The Calrexan had seized up, its neck twisted to the side. The arm that had previously held Shiro was now curled in toward its torso, its fingers splayed at grotesque angles as it fought whatever spell held it. Yellow eyes were wide with panic and its mouth was locked open in a silent scream. The rest of its posture was rigid and shaking, but the worst part was the blood shield. It was still - it had stopped its constant flow across the Calrexan’s body. It appeared to have lumps in it now, almost like sludge, and it began to take on a sheen, like it was hardening. This seemed to be the cause of the massive pain and paralysis.

And it was coming from Lance.

He could feel it in him. It slowed his breathing, or he thought it did. It felt like he was existing in slow-mo, like he was in a Matrix movie. Something like slow, undulating ripples radiated out from his chest, pulsing slowly and thickly down his arms and legs, throbbing painfully at the base of his skull. A quiet rustling, like silk scraping across a great marble statue, caressed his mind, his bones, his blood. The whispering sound was almost sentient, he felt, like it was a gentle hand stroking the side of his face and telling him what to do. But not with words, or even feelings. It told him with instinct and a morality of its own, and Lance had a sinking feeling that those morals didn’t point exactly due north. Every breath he took was a struggle, like he had gone and swallowed the viscous blood of the Calrexans. He could hear Shiro calling for him, could feel Keith’s strong fingers grasping at his hand. And he could feel something pulsing within those strong fingers. Warm, wet, water, Adam’s sweet, sweet ale -

Lance gasped in a great breath of air and jolted away from Keith, terrified of that deep pulse within him. He could feel it receding back into his core, gently caressing him as it went until it vanished completely. The Calrexan attacker was screaming again, gravelly and sobbing as it collapsed to its knees. Lance’s eyes were impossibly wide, he could feel them, they hurt, everything in him hurt. His fingernails, his eyelashes, his teeth and tongue. His mouth was dry, like he’d been chewing on cotton. He began to shake all over, uncontrollably. He looked to Shiro, who was alive, holy shit, he was alive. He was staring at Lance, eyes wide as he rubbed at his shoulder. Keith was staring too, hovering close, eyes wide but brows knit in concern. Keith reached for Lance’s hand again, and Lance could see his mouth preparing to form his name.

His name, from Keith’s mouth. His name, Lance, he was Lance, and Keith wanted to help. Keith wanted to reach out, share his warmth, warmth from the water -

“No!” Lance sobbed, drawing his hand to his chest, far from Keith’s questing fingers. Keith flinched back at the ferocity in Lance’s voice. Good, Lance thought. “Don’t touch me. You - you can’t touch me.” His voice cracked, he cracked.

“Lance -” Shiro began, stepping forward. Lance shook his head fiercely, which only hurt him more, but he needed to hurt. He looked back at the Calrexan, who had fallen over onto its side and lay there, immobile. He could hear people crashing through the garden, knew that it was Hunk. Shiro had called for him, Hunk had heard, Hunk was here to help, that blessed ability of his could help people.

“Not like this,” Lance gasped out. Before he could be interrogated, he shoved past Keith, ignoring the shouts of his teammates. He leapt through the window he’d shattered and took off through the castle, not looking back, not looking at the confused Calrexan guards who were no doubt on their way to the courtyard. He ran, long legs carrying him out of the palace and through the winding streets of The City.

Blue, Blue, Blue, he cried, over and over, the only comfort he could find. She guided his footfalls, and he flew to her, feet slapping against the paved stone roads until he found the lions, found his beloved Blue.

Lance fled.

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