Alarms blared and urgent footsteps sounded throughout the castle; but Lance barely registered the noises. The racket of his own pounding head was deafening. Vaguely aware that he was needed out there, he tried to sit up in bed. That proved to be a really bad idea because the pounding got so much worse, he nearly passed out. As it was, he lay back, formed the coherent thought that he was sick, and fell back asleep.
"Lance!"
The voice and the accompanying knocking was muffled by the door; whoever it was must've been calling out to him for a while before he woke.
Lance wanted to say 'Come in,' and part of him thought he said it. But he was pretty out of it, so it was quite possible that he hadn't spoken at all before drifting to sleep yet again. The latter was more likely because when he next came to, he was being violently shaken by a very concerned-looking Keith.
Lance bolted upright and came within an inch of Keith's face—his violet eyes, his silken bangs... If Lance hadn't felt like barfing, he could've appreciated the sight more fully. "What the hell," he murmured. He was going for an accusing tone, but with his scratchy voice, it came out more as an angry whisper. Oh well. As long as the anger at being shaken awake was conveyed.
Keith seemed to realize his proximity and leaned back, but he remained seated on the edge of the bed. "You didn't report for the drill and weren't answering when I knocked, so I was worried. You okay?"
"Sick," Lance managed, settling his head onto the one remaining cool corner of his pillow.
"Oh. I thought..."
"Hmm?" Lance wondered what Keith had been thinking to jerk him awake as if Zarkon were here.
"I don't know, I thought you were... dying or something."
Keith came to check on him? That was actually really sweet, that he cared. "It sure feels like I'm dying, but it's just a cold. I probably just need to sleep it off."
"You can't be out of commission, Lance. We need you. Voltron needs you. I'll go ask Coran or Allura if a healing pod can fix you up. Or if they have medicine or something. I'll be back in a bit."
The moment Keith got up and left, Lance missed his weight on the bed. It wasn't until the door hissed shut that he even realized Keith had draped the blanket around him more securely. Lance was sick, but what was wrong with Keith? Why was he being so...nice?