Hunk loosened his hold, tilting Lance onto his side, and his murmurs were too soft for the transmission to pick up but Shiro had gotten the mantra nearly down.
“Estás bien, you’re okay, please, Lance, come on, por favor, you can do it.”
God. He had told Klemin off for calling them boys but… but they were still so young.
And he felt so useless.
Lance stopped shuddering about a minute later and mumbled words passed through his lips instead.
“Mamá. Mamá p-por favor.”
Hunk murmured something but Lance’s face screwed up and he called for his mom again.
“Lance,” Veronica’s voice was thick with tears and she pressed up against the screen. “Estoy a-aquí. Estoy aquí.”
“Mamá,” Lance whispered stilling.
“Estás bien. Estoy aquí.”
Lance shuddered out a sigh and went limp.
Veronica looked to Shiro. “I’m getting her.” She had tried earlier and the council had said no, the area off limits to civilians.
Anon prompt! I did Voltron:Legendary Defender for this.
Contains vomiting, minor anxiety descriptions, and cheesiness. Its set in the start of the Garrison time when Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all meet up. Using he/him for Pidge because thats what was used for them at the time in series. Im putting the readmore before the fic starts this time because it goes into the content pretty quickly. Its just shy of 1500 words (or just over after some editing)
“Thats it. If you throw up one more time we’re going to the hospital” Any pairing/person you can think of is all good with me, thank you so much in advance!
Hunk coughed harshly and spat into the sink. The lingering taste of sick was turning his stomach still, but he had promised himself he would be quick. Nobody needed to have their schedule thrown off because of him. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, it had been a rough week. Garrison training really ramped up this semester.
He cupped a handful of cold water to rinse his mouth with before washing his face with haste. When he turned to leave, his newly assigned teammate was standing behind him, staring- or glaring? Whatever he was doing it was making Hunk’s palms sweat with anxiety.
“You okay?” That was it. Hunk waited a second, staring blankly. No berating came, no scoffing, no ‘if-you-can’t-take-the-training-leave’ spiel like he got from some of the others when he threw up during the pacer test.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” His voice stung and was thin and cracking from the abuse of being so violently sick just a few minutes ago. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Cool. Um, I’m Lance. It- we didn’t really get properly introduced.” He smiled at Hunk, a thousand kilowatt smile that made Hunk’s own face crack into a grin even though he still felt shaky.
“I’m Hunk.”
————-
“Simulation complete.” The pneumatic door locks hissed as they disengaged and Hunk pushed his way through as fast as he could manage. Today was even worse than the day before. They finished a hard obstacle course with him barely keeping his stomach in line- even a few of the other students had tapped out or thrown up on the sidelines from the strain of it. Then they ran simulations. Then more simulations. This was their introduction. No sit down, here is the manual these are your controls. Blindly being thrown into three different cockpit styles with different layouts and jostled around inside. Every mistake being berated by Commander Iverson, even though they all had never set foot in a cockpit before.
“At least he knows to hide his face after such a disgraceful display!” Hunk could hear the lecture on the peripheral of his attention. He was going to be sick, and right there in front of everyone if he wasn’t fast. That thought sent a jolt of panic through him, making the nausea spike. He left his new team there to take the flack all by themselves. Oh, god what kind of team member was he? He gagged into his hand. Times up. He pushed the lid off of one of the bins just around the corner- recycling or garbage who cared in a bin was better than on the floor.
The distant shouting faded out of his awareness entirely, his head was swimming and he felt like his skin was buzzing. A heady wave of heat rolled down his shoulders and ice cold sweat dripped down his face. He felt his shoulders roll forward before he was aware he was gagging into the bin. It was rather quiet, save for the harsh cough at the end that tore his throat. His stomach bubbled and he felt choked, he couldn’t breathe. Saliva pooled in his mouth and he choked on it trying to hold back. He tried to swallow again but it caught and he coughed harshly again, bringing up a bitter taste.
Somewhere off there was an explosion of sound, and he wanted to look but his eyes were stinging, his face ached with pressure from the unwilling exertion his body was taking. Loud, slapping footsteps crossed behind him and his face burned with humiliation. He couldn’t help it. He retched again, the spit and a small spurt of vomit mixing together and splattering on the cans below him. His body tingled with another wave of nausea crashing over him like an icy bucket of water.
He coughed up a huge wave of half digested breakfast and it didn’t seem to stop. He tried to breathe, really, he did. It hitched after he tried to inhale and he curled further forward as his stomach clenched so harshly it made his muscles scream. And again, barely a breath and he was sent forward with another gush of sickness. Something patted at his back, knocking the air back into him. He gasped, greedily sucking in as much as his lungs could hold before coughing. He swiped his wrist under his eyes carefully. They were streaming, his nose was running like a sieve and he could feel the tacky strings of mucus and vomit trailing from his mouth and nose.
“That’s it,” the smacks to his back turned into someone rubbing smooth circles as he shuddered in breath after breath, “You got it, now.”
His face burned, someone was there. This was not him wishing one of his moms was there, this was most definitely a real person. He tried to spit, but ended up coughing again and bringing up another string of sick. He could breathe, though, that’s what mattered. He finally spat, and blew through his nose to try and dislodge the, no doubt charming, mess dripping from his face.
“You okay now, uh Hunk, was it?” Lance’s face was in his peripheral vision, hand still on his back. Hunk nodded, but stayed hovering over the, yep that was the recycling bin. He was scared to respond, his throat felt thick and burned so badly.
“Good. Here.” He handed over a wad of napkins from the Garrison cafeteria. He pulled another fresh wad out of his other pocket too, as Hunk started swiping them under his nose.
“Thank-“ Hunk tried, but it caught in his throat and he coughed until he gagged again. He threw up. Again. He heaved a shaky sigh after it was over and went back to wiping his face in silence.
“That’s it. If you throw up one more time we’re going to the hospital.”
“It’s the Garrison, there’s no hospital for miles.” Hunk croaked. “It’ll be fine.”
“Then I’ll take you to whatever passes for a medical centre here. You’ve thrown up, like, every day this week.” Hunk straightened up a little and looked down at his shoes, best to avoid looking at the mess. He could feel his face going red again. “Come on, Iverson told me to take off for the day anyway.”
“What?” Hunk blinked up at him.
“I kind of told him to stuff it and walked off. He was getting way too much enjoyment out of us suffering, and I mean…” Lance took his hand off Hunk’s back, content the taller boy was going to be able to hold his own for a moment. He shrugged. “We’re a team now or whatever, so, you’re more important than an ego driven tirade.”
“Aww geeze,” Hunk ran his hand through his damp hair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you guys in trouble.”
“Its fine, seriously, you okay?”
“Its embarrassing,” Hunk looked up and down the hall. It was surprisingly, and thankfully, empty. “I’m okay, for real. I just get sick to my stomach really easily. I got kicked off the bus coming up here because I kept throwing up, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Motion sickness, and stuff.”
“That’s all? Thank God,” Lance held his hand to his chest as he sighed, “We can work with that, man. Come on, you look trashed. How are you even standing? If you get sick like that every time, you have to have some serious strength.”
“Hey, can I stop running interference now? I swear one of these older guys is gonna deck me!” A new voice grumbled from behind Hunk. His other new team mate- small kid with glasses, what was his name?
“Thanks, Pidge. Sorry about that,” Lance shot the smaller boy a smile past Hunk’s arm. “You’re a real cool kid, you know that?”
“Shut up,” Pidge rolled his eyes, “You okay there, guy?” Hunk nodded, he shifted from side to side under their attention. It felt so weird, they were already willing to get in trouble on his behalf, after only, what? A day and a half maybe?
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” He cleared his throat again, his voice was so wrecked, “Didn’t catch your name, sorry.”
“Its Pidge. Come on, you look like crap. Lance, don’t stand there and talk to him all day, we had a plan.”
“What?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Lance gently pulled on Hunk’s arm. “C’mon. We’re kidnapping you to get some rest and some ice cream- if you’re feeling up to it. Vanilla ice cream does wonders for a sore throat, and isn’t so bad on an upset stomach either.”
“Not to be rude, but it was kind of obvious you’ve been sick. You’ve been looking pretty wrung out for a couple days now.” Hunk smiled sheepishly. He knew that, everyone was looking rough. He kept that to himself, even though the small boy in front of him looked pretty haggard and had dark circles on his own pale face.
“Aw, geeze. Thanks guys.” Hunk smiled, he could feel his eyes prickling. Okay, maybe they weren’t totally like his moms, but this was really bringing back some memories. If he could get his throat to feel a bit better, and sound a little less awful, maybe he could call home and tell them about this. They’d be so proud to know their son was lucky enough to be teamed up with some pretty alright guys.
Summary: An alien ship crashes on Earth and Lance and Hunk are the first responders to board and look for survivors. But they don’t find people in need of help. They find bodies. And these bodies have been dead for a while. What started as a rescue turns into a fight for survival and the team can only watch in horror outside of the quarantined ship as two of their own begin to lose the battle. And it begs the question: when it comes to choosing between potentially saving a loved one or for sure saving Earth what is a Defender of the Universe to do?
Story snippet:
“Okay, this is creepy,” Lance said it aloud, the word echoing. “Is… is there a chance it was abandoned? And it just… fell to Earth?”
Hunk shook his head. “The thrusters were on, I saw them. Someone is here.”
Lance could see maybe the pilot having been knocked out in the crash. But everyone else? There was no way a ship this large was manned by only one person.
Where were they?
The prickling feeling increased.
Lance pushed onward.
They made it one more hallway before individual rooms began to crop up and Lance realized a second later what this ship was.
A trade vessel. Boxes upon boxes were both still stacked or otherwise scattered across the floor in numerous cargo holds.
In the third room there was a body.
“Holy—!” Lance broke off as he sprinted towards the figure. Miraculously they weren’t under any boxes, lying nearly in the doorway.
They…
They might be okay.
Lance dropped to his knees, hands going to the alien’s shoulders that were obscured beneath a thick brown shirt, and rolled them gently to their side to free their face from the floor.
Hunk gasped behind him and Lance yanked his hand away as though burned.
He was no expert in the many types of aliens but he was pretty sure this one was dead.
Summary: An alien ship crashes on Earth and Lance and Hunk are the first responders to board and look for survivors. But they don’t find people in need of help. They find bodies. What started as a rescue turns into a fight for survival and the team can only watch in horror outside of the quarantined ship as two of their own begin to lose the battle. And it begs the question: when it comes to choosing between potentially saving a loved one or for sure saving Earth what is a Defender of the Universe to do?
Chapter snippet:
Someone was patting his cheek.
Even in gloves Lance knew that hand and forced open heavy eyelids.
“H-Hunk?” he rasped, wincing.
His mouth tasted like blood.
“Oh thank God. Oh God, Lance. C’mere, let’s get you up.”
And before Lance could protest he was being lifted from horizontal to vertical and he groaned as the movement sent his head spinning.
“Here, drink,” and a straw was pressed against his lips. Lance dutifully took a sip, gagged as iron-tainted water filled his mouth, somehow swallowed it down and then took another.
He tilted his head back against Hunk’s shoulder, seeking honey eyes.
“You… you fainted,” he slurred.
He remembered that.
“And you passed out,” Hunk said. “Oh God, Lance. I thought…”
He’d come to to yelling for him to wake up as Lance was choking on blood and what followed was one of the scariest few minutes of Hunk’s life as he lifted Lance, slammed hands on his back and prayed that his fear of needles and weak constitution hadn’t just gotten Lance killed.
“‘m okay,” Lance patted a weak hand on Hunk’s arm.
It meant little but Hunk appreciated the gesture.
“Hunk, we need those samples now, buddy,” Shiro spoke, having appeared on screen along with Coran and Dr. Rockbell.
