@emoticlysm, @marksmcn, @fyrelion
He comes to with bleary eyes and a nasty headache; something he isn't used to feeling after combat soured.
They weren't in the castle.
The next thing coming to mind was the shouting. If anything, it made his headache worse.
Voices blur into chaos, and Lance groans, curling in on himself, tucking his head under his arms, “Can you guys not?”
His head hurt worse than that time he'd been locked in the stasis pods, and even light hurt.
“Good to see you awake, Lance.” Softly spoken, one gentle hand on his shoulder.
A point of calm amidst the storm, and Lance reaches for it to keep his own sanity amid the yelling.
“-- and you just let him storm out there! You know what Keith is like!” Pidge’s voice resolved into actual words inside the screaming.
Lance chanced opening his eyes again, just a crack, and there in front of him, his own helm lay. A crack ran the length of the hard surface, splintering out from an impact point high and back.
That explained the headache.
“He's gonna get into a fucking fistfight with the galra when he finds the first goddamn patrol he can! That's the last thing any of us need right now! We’re supposed to be undercover. This,” Pidge swept a hand out, motioning vaguely at the rest of the tiny apartment the group was in, “is gonna get us caught, and then we're never gonna get the intel we need.”
“Pidge---” Hunk starts, only to be cut off by a furious fifteen year old.
“Shut the fuck up, I'm not done.”
Lance eased up to a seat, leaned over on the shoulder of the presence next to him. At least someone wasn't arguing -- but he can feel how tense she is. Tempers running high and the sheer fury… well, if he could pick up on it, there was no doubt it was bothering Raven.
“We need to find Keith, preferably before he picks a fight.”
A hand slams into an armored head, crashing it into the metal walls of the tall building. The alley was dark, almost comfortable, and Keith felt at home here. It was just him and the galran patrol that ambushed them earlier.
The patrol that had recognized them as Paladins of Voltron--the patrol that had been working with their wanted posters.
As the galra slumped down, Keith turned, ripping the paper off the wall and crumpling it. He might not have a means to light it on fire at the moment, but he could bury the posters in the garbage.
A rustle behind Keith alerts him to the last of the squad trying to sneak up; his bayard is in hand before he finishes whirling around, sword-point at the throat of the galra. It’d be so easy to push forward that last little bit, to spill the blood of someone who had meant to harm his teammates.
Someone who had harmed Lance.
Instead, he snarled, pulling the bayard to the side. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
The galra seems frozen in place for a long moment before scrambling back and away from the red paladin.
Keith’s bayard flashes out of existence again, leaving him holding just the hilt of his weapon. He can taste blood in his mouth now, now that he wasn’t fighting and blinded by his own fury. Dimly, he becomes aware of a split lip and of blood trickling down the side of his face. He hadn’t escaped unscathed either---but his opponents looked a helluva lot worse.
He takes a step forward, then two, pitches forward with a startled grunt. The ground hits his face hard, drives the wind out of his body, and only then does he realize the numbness creeping over his skin, spreading from the cut on his face and for a brief moment, he asks himself if it had been too much to wish his face had been numb before it hit the ground.
In an alleyway on the edge of the city, a tiny piece of electronics pings, frantic voices spilling from it without an answer--and summarily stepped on by a passerby too worried about the salvage in their arms to hear the voices.
With a crunch that disappears into the background noise, even the voices asking for Keith are silenced.
“Guys, I’m not getting anything back from his comms. At all.” And the Altean comm units have been nearly one hundred percent reliable. So much so that Pidge knew that for Keith’s comm unit to have been out for this long (and it wasn’t Keith just not responding!), there was something wrong.
“When you say you’re getting nothing back, what, exactly, does that mean, Pidge?” Lance asked, edging up to peer over her shoulder at the screen projected above her forearm.
“I mean nothing. Look,” Pidge raises her other hand, trailing to the point on the display where Keith’s signal should have been, “I can see your signal, right there,” she taps, then moves her hand over to the other side of the center indicator, “and Raven’s right here… but Keith? Keith’s is missing. Completely.”
“Well, we can’t just leave him behind.” Hunk started, and Pidge nodded in agreement. “We have to find him.”
“But we also can’t sit on the intel we already have; it’ll go bad as the galra change their codes.”
“Then it’s settled.” Raven started, circling around to stand in front of both the green and yellow paladins. “You and Hunk get back to the castle with the information; Lance and I will find Keith.”
Clearly, a decision had to be made. One that ensured the best outcome of all.
It’s dark when he cracks his eyes open--at least, he thinks he’s opened his eyes; still can’t feel most of his face. Fingers flex experimentally, a test to see if he could feel them more than anything.
Keith exhaled, reaching forward to find the extent of the area he was in; he’s certainly been moved, or he’d’ve woken face in the ground as he’d fallen. Question was; friend or foe?
He flexes his fingers again, reaching for the bayard that was always at his call, only to find nothing. Well, that didn’t bode well for him at all.
He squints, sure he could see a sliver of light (and was he sure his brain wasn’t just playing tricks on him after he’d blacked out?), and pushes forward, to his feet. Shaky legs hold up the red paladin, and he thanks his stars that he hadn’t just collapsed under his own weight.
That would’ve been embarrassing.
Hands still outstretched ahead of him, Keith pushes forward, one careful step after another. That sliver of light got a little bit bigger with each step. Good to know he wasn’t hallucinating.
Soft hum is all the warning he gets before overhead lights snap on with a buzz, a chilling sound reminiscent of the shit sides of town. Of any town.
And so, Keith staggers back, arms raising to shield his eyes; he’d just become fully accustomed to the dark in which he’d been in, and now he was blind as a bat.
“Good to see you’re awake, kid. We’ve got some… questions… for you.”
Blinking furiously, Keith frowned, casting about still half-blind in an attempt to find the speaker. To find who… or what… the speaker was.
“You might wanna start with the locations of your paladin friends.”
And that would make the answer to his question ‘foe’. “Go to hell.”
“If that’s how you want to play it, so be it.”
The floor rumbled under his feet, and something shifted in the walls; they were moving closer, boxing the paladin into a space not much bigger than himself if he sat back down.
Reminded him of a trash compactor.
“One last chance, kid. Tell us where your friends are.”
Again, hands grasp for the bayard that no longer was at his beck and call, but this time, Keith says nothing, opting to stare angrily at the wall in front of him as his eyes finally adjust to the new level of light.
It becomes clear Keith will not be forthcoming in less than a minute, and that slit of light that initially caught his attention goes dark before water floods through it, splashing on the floor and rising rapidly--until it reaches his knees and soaks through the leather pants of his disguise.
They didn’t even have the decency to warm it first; the water felt like he’d stepped into runoff from a mountain.
“Just let us know when you’re ready to talk.”
Another clunk, sounded like someone warming up old generators, and then it hits him, current spiking through the water. Hurts like hell but it wasn’t something lethal… at least, the way he was now. It doesn’t last long, just long enough for Keith to have staggered forward again, arms impacting the wall to keep himself from falling to his knees.
”We tried being nice, Red Paladin. We’re still going to give you a chance. Tell us where your friends are.”
Teeth grit together, and Keith forces himself upright again. No sense letting himself fall into the water and probably kill himself with the next round of whatever these guys are planning. “I don’t have any friends.”
“This city’s huge! And if Keith’s been kidnapped he might not even be in this city anymore!” Lance grumbled, throwing hands in the air -- and wincing as he remembered that was actually a pretty bad idea. “He could be anywhere on the planet, or he---”
Could be gone. Could be dead. Could be any number of things.
“He is your teammate.” What went unspoken was a much better reassurance than anything else. Raven trusted Keith to survive until help came.
Resting a hand on Lance’s forearm, Raven tapped the discreet gauntlet Pidge had given them all, bringing up a map of the immediate area. “This is where Pidge said Keith’s comm checked in last. We should start there and spread out.”
Lance’s emotions wash over the empath, a crashing wave of mingling fear and worry, threatening to drown out all else. Yet at the core, distinctly and undeniably Lance.
She swept forward, soft footsteps unheard on pavement.
This city, if it could be called that, resembled downtown Gotham, if only by virtue of the fact that the inhabitants were insular, suspicious of outsiders -- suspicious of the galran patrols that came through day after day.
As they drew closer to the point marked on their map, Raven picked up on curiosity, mingling with fear. Traces of a fight mar the sides of buildings, and while there were no bodies, there were scorch marks on metal, curving arcs gouged.
“I don't see him.” Lance finally said, tall frame coming to a stop next to her. He was right; Keith wasn't here… but the ambient feel of the area was different than the rest of this place. Keith had been here.
The blue paladin squinted, stepping forward and kneeling. The map made quite a makeshift light, but it did the job -- albeit in a wash of neon blue.
Lance’s fingers touch the ground, brushing through a dark spot before turning them to examine in the light. Hardly anything had stuck to those fingertips, but the texture of what he'd found was deeply disturbing. “I think -- I think that's blood. Human blood.”
The very implication… there was no doubt this was Keith's blood. Whatever happened here had cut his comms off, and Keith hadn't returned to their makeshift base of operations for a spare.
Lance straightened, casting a worried glance at Raven, finding the sentiment echoed in her eyes.
“The people here are scared by our presence,” she started, turning to cast her gaze over the rest of the dark. Even the curiosity of earlier has melted away.
Raven moves forward, frowning. She can't get a reading from inanimate objects, but the various species peering through curtains, watching nervously, waiting for these strange figures to leave… they were as good a trail as any, and their only lead. “This way, Lance.”
The water's drained by now, leaving lukewarm puddles on the floor and Keith soaked to the bone. He hasn't heard a peep for what feels like hours now, leaving him questioning. Did this mean they had one of the others? Were they just stretching time out, making him paranoid?
The door clanged, startling him out of his thoughts. Gathering himself together, Keith tensed; this may be his only chance to get out of here.
Metal swings open, revealing a lithe galra in a snug uniform.
He’s met by a combination of metal and claws in his gut, grunts as the impact drives the air from lungs.
The galra he is now face-to-face with didn’t budge an inch, instead stepping forward to place Keith firmly against the wall.
The metal’s cold against his back, seeping through the still wet leathers and what he assumed was some form of cotton…
The galra begins to withdraw his hand from Keith’s gut, and it’s all the paladin can do to remain upright as the pain hits him. Breath hisses out from behind clenched teeth, hands shaking even as the nameless galra manipulates arms up and to his side. Cold metal pinched the sides of his wrists, and he lashes out with a kick.
One that ends fruitlessly the same way his charge had; with the galra not moving at all.
“You will answer our questions.” began the galra, tone as emotionless as he was immovable. “I suggest you do it quickly, as you will either inevitably bleed out, starve to death, or die from toxins.”
“I’ll tell you what I told your buddies. Go to hell.”
Raven’s footsteps lead the marksman down winding alley after winding alley, each moment drawing them further and further away from the city… and closer to finding their missing teammate.
Lance’s bayard is in hand, rifle tucked down and against his body, but ready to raise at any given moment. There was no telling what lurked out here in the middle of the night, despite that they hardly saw anyone besides the occasional galran patrol.
“There,” Raven murmured, raising a hand to point at a lone building about a kilometer away. She wasn’t even close yet, and already, everything emanating from that building spoke to the fact that their missing teammate was in there.
Between the quiet whispers of boredom comes a thread of fury, a fire that prickles up her spine and spreads. It is unmistakably Keith.
Lance glanced at Raven, paused, and bolted forward. Keith was there, and whatever stood in his and Raven’s way couldn’t stop them.
A crash echoes from outside, sentry drones firing weapons. The sounds are dim and muted within the chamber; barely audible to Keith himself. But they were still audible, and he struggles to pull himself up from his slump. Struggles to breathe properly.
Struggles just to remain conscious with the fire spreading through his body.
Not even the incident with quintessence had burned quite so bad.
The galra who had been interrogating him thus far turned to the door, paused, and glanced back at the paladin currently almost hanging off the wall. “Do be a dear and consider what I’ve asked.” Before he gave Keith a chance to answer, the galra slipped out; door slammed shut behind him.
Controlled bursts of fire take down drone after drone, sentries falling with metallic clattering. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see Raven moving forward fearlessly. He exhaled, taking less than a second to line his shot up and pick off a sentry swinging around toward Raven.
Steps forward, firing again, and again. He goes through the motions, can’t spare a thought toward anything but keeping himself alive and keeping the fire off Raven as she approached the building itself.
It looked like it could fall apart at any moment. “Get the door open!”
He ducked, weaving through the open space as quickly as he could. The last thing he needs is to get shot--he’d never hear the end of it from Pidge. First the concussion earlier, and then being shot? Yeah, forget that.
His back slammed into the wall of the building as Raven tore the door off its hinges, knocking it aside. Inside it was just as dark, and Lance sighed. If they made a makeshift flashlight, it would draw all the attention to them, and that was the last thing they needed.
Raven slipped into the building, feet scarcely touching the ground. Keith was somewhere in this building, but without enough light to search and an unknown number of galra and sentries, well….
Letting her eyes drift closed, Raven lets the thread of anger tug at her, reigniting the fire that led her here in the first place. Elsewhere in the building, points of what used to be boredom bustle around moving away from where she and Lance now stood.
Deciding to risk it, Lance activates the map again, letting the neon colors light the room. Equipment and machinery as far as he could see, which, in this situation, was not far. “Raven. Raven!”
As Raven turned to face Lance, the paladin raised his arm, pointing along the ceiling, “There’s a bunch of pipes here, but they all look like they run to the same place, and it’s not to the outdoors.”
The door in front of Keith dented, then crumpled, pulled aside in a faintly glowing halo. He barely mustered the strength to look up, but he could hardly make out the forms of whomever was in the doorway.
Lance is first to break the silence, illuminating the room. “Dios mío.”
Before him was Keith, barely clinging to consciousness and---was that blood? What the fuck? Scowling, he reached up, running his hands along the metal in search of a switch, something, somewhere, to get the red paladin free.
Raven beats him to the punch, simply ripping the metal from its fastenings and letting it clatter to the ground.
Lance catches Keith, staggering under the sudden weight of a limp teammate. “Lo que la cogida, Rojo.”
Carefully, he eases Keith out of the room (and honestly, it was more dragging him than anything else), out toward the entrance of the whole building. Raven had his back. Raven had their backs.
The trip back to the hideyhole Pidge had set up felt so much shorter, and yet… like forever. Raven had no clue how long Keith had been hurt like this, and there was no good place to stop and try to mend his injuries save for the place they left from not more than half a cycle ago.
Dawn broke over the horizon as Lance and Raven pulled Keith’s still limp form into the apartment. And it’s only here that they can start cataloguing the extent of the red paladin’s injuries.
Keith was still breathing, but only just.
“Lance, please find the medkit. And some water.”
Even tired, dirty, and bloodstained, Lance nodded. He could take care of himself after he was sure Keith would pull through. Voltron couldn’t lose Keith… he couldn’t lose Keith.
Settling down next to the fallen paladin, Raven exhaled, releasing that string of anger that had led her to Keith, knowing that what would come would sap what little strength of hers that remained. But she would survive through it. She could not say the same of Keith if she didn’t help him.
Lance slipped back into the room, carrying a medkit and a bowl of lukewarm water. “How bad is it?”
Raven reached up, taking first the kit, then the bowl, from Lance, “So far? Several broken ribs, a broken leg, multiple lacerations, and a gaping stab wound in the gut.”
It was a miracle he was still alive. Raven intended to keep it that way. Popping open the kit, she pulled out a thin cloth and dampened it with the water. “Here, see if you can get some of the blood cleaned off him.”
Lance took the cloth, nodding somberly as he leans over to care for his friend.
Raven sat up straight, closing her eyes and placing her palms lightly over Keith’s limber frame. He would live, and she would be tired and sour for a little bit longer, but he would live. The universe didn’t need to lose a defender right now. Lance didn’t deserve to lose someone so close to him… and Raven didn’t want to lose someone she cared for.
Keith blinked, once or twice, squinting as the light above him practically blinded him, again. He flinches, regretted the movement as soon as he did so. He blinks again, trying to focus on the two shadows now hovering over his face, and slowly, slowly… those faces resolve into none other than Lance and Raven.
He let out a breath he didn’t even remember holding, relaxing back against the ground. “Hey guys.”
He could think of no prettier faces to see.
