familiar
chapter one
Lance sat on the edge of his bed, counting his breaths as he tried to figure out what had woken him. Moonlight spilt through the blinds, tracing silver lines on the floor, and Lance stared at them as if he could find an answer in the patterns.
Paladin.
He jerked, fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket he'd kicked off himself in a panic earlier.
"Blue," he murmured aloud, already moving, sliding on his boots and throwing on the jacket hanging over a nearby chair. This late at night, there was no one to see or stop him as he grabbed his bag and crept to the door, glancing only once at the sleeping forms of Hunk and Pidge before he slipped out.
Paladin, she said again into his mind, her voice a low purr. Hurry, paladin.
Lance eyed the bright light pooling from the Instructor's Lounge and the instructor facing the hallway warily. Iverson looked like he was deep in conversation, but memories of being criticized and ridiculed in front of the entire pilot class made him cringe.
Paladin, Blue said, and he moved, stealing across the hallway quieter than a ghost.
Stealth was important, as his leader had told him once. To be trained in all aspects; to follow orders without question; to be disciplined, the perfect soldier. Of them all, Zarkon had always been– Zarkon had always been–
Lance gritted his teeth, ducking his head lower as something in his chest ached, a wound that hadn't completely healed yet.
He managed to make it outside, sighing in relief as a cool breeze wrapped around him. Lance made his way to the edge of the roof and looked out towards the desert where he'd left Blue in the caves, hidden and protected.
"What's going on?" he asked her now, letting the wind carry his words. "It better be important, Blue. You interrupted my beauty sleep, you meanie."
There was a long pause when Lance thought she wouldn't answer him. Faint amusement traveled down their bond before being replaced with seriousness.
Something is coming.
A tug in his chest, something strange and familiar feeling that ragged hole next to his heart.
"Coming," he murmured, tilting his head towards the sky.
"What's coming?" a voice asked next to his ear, and Lance yelped, his arms pinwheeling as he spun around. He reached towards his waist, fingers searching for his bayard on instinct. His heartbeat thundered in his chest as he stared wide-eyed at Pidge, whose eyes were sparkling with curiosity behind rimmed glasses.
Behind him, Hunk stood in the background like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. They all looked at each other for a moment before Pidge continued.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, and Lance swallowed, still trembling. "What's coming?"
Lance, his Lion said gently in his mind, and he relaxed.
"Um," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck.
What was he supposed to say?
So, like, what happened was my giant space cat woke me up in the middle of the night and just now told me that something's coming. Oh yeah, by the way, did I mention that I'm not human?
The only thing that'd be good for was a conversation-starter at some dinner party, though he'd either a) be sent straight to a psychiatrist, or b) be dragged under a microscope in a lab to be poked and prodded by scientists.
Neither of those sounded like great options, so Lance just said: "It's just this weird… feeling, you know?"
"Dude," Hunk said, speaking up for the first time that night, "you mean, like those moments when you know something's up and then you show up in class and Professor Ribero's having a pop quiz over some random cluster of galaxies we'd never even heard of?"
"Triggered," said Pidge, who'd sat down and pulled out a bunch of equipment in the time that it'd taken for Lance to reply. He fiddled with a few knobs and adjusted a mass of wires and radio tech.
"That's not Garrison tech," Lance noted.
"Yeah, where'd you get it?"
Pidge answered before Hunk could spew off a couple billion more questions.
"Built it," he said proudly as Lance ran a critical eye over his things. They were quite well-made, definitely an improvement compared to the chunky computers the Garrison made them use in class, but still not as good as Altean technology.
Not that Lance knew much about technology, anyway. That stuff he left to the technicians and scientists who spent their days holed up researching this and that, always speaking in a bunch of jargon he never understood.
Pidge slapped Hunk's hand away for the third time.
"Don't touch my stuff!"
Hunk whined but relented, rocking back on his heels and sulking.
"C'mon, Pidge," he tried. "Didn't Iverson say something about team bonding earlier? Working together and all that? No secrets between us, right?"
Pidge sighed, pushing up his glasses. "Fine."
He began a long spiel that Lance tuned out almost immediately.
Paladin, Blue pressed, and he could feel her worry and tension like it was a tangible thing, wrapping around his chest and squeezing tightly. It is time.
"Voltron," Pidge announced clearly, and Lance froze where he was, not daring to breathe.
"What?" he finally choked out.
"It's what I've been picking up," Pidge explained, reaching behind him and showing them a page covered in doodles of aliens and VOLTRON written in scratchy handwriting.
"What's that mean?" Hunk asked.
Lance swallowed back his words and bit down on his lip instead, knowing that answering the question would only spell disaster.
"I don't know," Pidge replied, looking frustrated, "but all the alien radio chatter I've been picking up is that word on repeat."
Monumental. The know-it-all didn't know something.
He gestured at the small screen and the lines of scrolling text that were going way too fast for Lance to read.
"It's going crazier than I've ever heard it," he continued.
Deep breaths. His pulse was too fast; Lance was scared his heart would break free of its cage and go flying. He took a steadying breath and raised an eyebrow at Pidge.
"Oh yeah?"
The alarms began to blare, and the trio turned as one towards the flashing lights as a voice echoed throughout the Garrison.
"Attention all students," the voice droned, "this is not a drill. We are now on lockdown. Security situation zero-niner. Repeat–"
"A zero-niner?" cried Hunk, pulling at his hair.
But Lance's attention had been caught by a burst of light in the corner of his eye. Hunk looked up and stopped, his hand coming up shakily to point at the rapidly-approaching object.
"Guys, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Hunk asked. "Is that a meteor?"
Pidge snatched his binoculars. "That's no meteor–"
Seized with a feeling of icy dread, Lance grabbed the binoculars, holding them up so he could see what was coming towards them.
Galra, hissed Blue, wrapping her mind protectively around his own. If they hurt you–
Peace, Blue, he thought back, lowering his hands and trying not to panic.
"That's a ship," he finished for Pidge. A Galran ship – an escape pod, by the looks of it.
What the Quiznack was a Galran escape pod doing here? Earth was safe, untouched by Zarkon's rampage, so primitive and different from many of the other planets that no one had ever even heard of it. It had been the perfect hiding spot for Blue all those years ago as Lance had steered her with still-bleeding wounds and tears on his face.
And now– and now–
He had to take care of the threat. Had to make sure whoever had come on that ship never made it back out, if not for the sake of Voltron, then for the people of this planet, still free.
"Where are you guys going?" Hunk shouted as Lance and Pidge raced for the exits.
"Hunk, come on," Pidge yelled over his shoulder.
"When I said team bonding, I meant, like, legal activities, you guys!" he yelled back, but a third set of footsteps joined them anyway.
They followed the rows of rovers speeding from the Garrison into the desert, where Lance found an outcropping they could sprawl on and spy from.
"Guys, this is the worst idea you've had since that time you covered the announcements board with memes," Hunk began, ever the voice of reason as Pidge set up his equipment. Lance hunched forward, squinting through the binoculars at the ship and its surroundings.
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, eyeing the pretty woman who'd stepped out to talk with one of the other commanders.
"And that was a pretty bad idea!" Hunk cried, waving his arms, but neither Lance nor Pidge were paying attention. Pidge had hacked into the camera feeds, and Lance watched with growing horror as a man was strapped down, protesting in panic as he tried to explain what he'd seen.
Aliens, Takashi Shirogane had said. Coming for Voltron. Not enough time.
Time, Blue chimed in his head.
"We need to get in there," Pidge said, a fire burning in his eyes. Lance nodded, his determination just as bright.
"Or we could go back to the barracks and get some ramen," Hunk suggested nervously. "Am I right or am I right, heh?"
Ten minutes later found them going in the complete opposite direction of the barracks being chased by a bunch of Garrison officers. The hovercraft was way too small to fit four teenagers and an unconscious adult, but they'd made it work.
"Can't you go any faster?" Lance yelled at Keith, glancing behind them to see the officers hot on their tail. None of them truly understood what was at stake, what might happen if the Garrison – if anyone – knew how vast the true scope of the universe was.
The only one who did was held in Lance's arms, sedated and unresponsive. He shifted his grip, fingers brushing against Galran steel.
"Could do without a little weight," Keith shouted back, and Lance pressed his lips together. "Big guy, lean left!"
They tore through the desert, twisting and turning on a ragged path. There was a familiar feeling building in him now, adrenaline mixed with the pure euphoria of flight. He'd missed the taste of flight, missed the feeling of it; he missed Blue more than anything.
"Tell me we're going off that cliff," Lance said, loud enough so the others could hear.
"No," said Hunk, "no. Nonono. Nuh-uh, do not say a word, Keith, no, no–"
Keith grinned, and for a second, Lance realized that while the two of them were polar opposites, they did share one thing in common.
"Hell yeah."
Weightlessness.
The five of them plummeted towards the ground far below, screaming their lungs off. Lance held on tightly to Shiro and laughed, throwing his head back and relishing in the feeling of falling.
"We're gonna die," Pidge yelled, gripping onto Lance's shoulders.
"Shut up," Keith snapped, his words pulled away by the wind. "Just– trust me!"
A moment before they would've been flattened into a nice stack of Garrison pancakes, Keith pulled up, sending them shooting across the ground and further and further away from their pursuers.
"Yeah, baby!" Lance crowed.
"What the fuck, Lance," Pidge said in his ear. Hunk only groaned as they zipped past plateau after plateau, but Keith surprised him with a breathless laugh.
They shared a look that only lasted a second, some soft, fleeting understanding passing through them. Then Keith turned back, hands tightening around the handlebars.
Lance smiled.
It took them another good hour to get out to the small shack Keith called home. It was a simple thing, with everything crammed into one room, a couch here, a hot plate there, scattered piles of dirty clothes and papers.
To be honest, it was kind of suffocating. He walked outside as soon as it seemed okay to do so, gulping in the night air and staring up at the stars.
A different set of stars, a different set of constellations and myths behind them.
Blue purred into his mind, sad but still loving, still warm.
I miss it, he told her. They didn't need words, the two of them, but he said it anyway.
"Oh," came a voice from behind him. Lance turned to see Shiro walking out, expression both confused and stormy.
Lance scuffed his foot against the ground as he thought about what Shiro must have gone through, what horrors could've brought him into the hands of the Galra.
"Do you, uh…," Lance cleared his throat and gestured pointlessly, "need… like, a moment? Alone? 'Cause there's plenty of space so I can just, uh, move, if you want."
He caught the hem of his sleeves and rubbed the worn fabric between his fingers.
Shiro blinked, caught in surprise.
"It's alright," the man said finally. They stood together in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. The name Voltron still played on an endless loop in Lance's head.
It'd been years. Ten thousand, to be exact, and they'd passed without Lance realizing. A period of time so long it made his head ache to think about it, but it'd gone by in the blink of an eye.
Ten thousand years. It'd been long enough – tomorrow, when the day was bright, he'd set off back to Blue, where he belonged. Then they'd fly together in defense of the universe, of the scattered planets left alone by the Galra and those that had been tainted by it.
His Lion rumbled in the back of his mind, energy seeping between their bond. She wasn't fully awake, only aware enough to speak to him, but that'd change.
"I'm Shiro," his companion said, startling him out of his thoughts. He extended a hand – the non-Galra one – and Lance took it with a grin.
"I know," he replied, "and I'm Lance."
"I thanked the others earlier," Shiro said, letting his hand fall back to his side. "But I didn't get a chance to thank you, so… thank you, Lance."
He cocked his head.
"For what?"
Shiro shrugged and looked out at the vast stretch of desert, the wind carrying clouds of dust across the ground. Lance closed his eyes and understood.
"For saving me," Shiro said lightly.
A set of footsteps; a third person came to join them, putting a hand on Shiro's shoulder.
"Shiro," Keith murmured, his voice so different from the temperamental, hotheaded classmate Lance had known at the Garrison.
"I'm glad you're back."
He looked a little embarrassed when he remembered Lance was there, a challenge already on his lips, but Lance said nothing.
Shiro smiled, though it was a little sad.
"I'm glad to be back," he replied, reaching a hand up to ruffle Keith's hair. Keith squawked indignantly, scowling as he fixed his hair. Lance hid his grin but couldn't stop the snicker, earning himself a stink-eye in return.
"What happened?" Lance asked, hating the question the moment he asked it. "Out there, I mean."
"I… I don't really know," Shiro admitted, "my head… everything's scattered. I just have a bunch of bits and pieces – I escaped off the alien ship somehow, but before that…"
Lance's throat was dry as he said, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Shiro's brow crinkled, he turned fully so he could look at both Lance and Keith.
"How did you know to come that night?" he asked.
Lance thought of Blue and suppressed a laugh, half-wondering if he'd gone insane. He frowned to himself. He'd known because of Blue, and Pidge and Hunk had followed him, but… how had Keith known?
"Come on," Keith said abruptly, "I think it'd be better if I showed you."
Inside the shack, Keith pulled down a large cloth covering, dust rising from the floorboards as he dropped it on the ground. Lance stared at the board covered in maps and calculations, all of them papers with hastily-written notes jotted down on them.
The largest map showed an overview of the desert, with arrows pointing to a spot in the center, circled several times in black marker.
He stopped breathing.
Blue. Blue.
Every line Keith had drawn lead straight to the Blue Lion, to a spot that had been undiscovered for ages.
"What is that," he ground out, breaths shallow.
Keith waved a hand towards the side, where Lance saw a few pictures of caves marked with the same messy handwriting as the other papers. Pictures of caves that looked too close to the ones Blue waited in.
"I don't know how to explain it," Keith started, rubbing the back of his neck. "After they kicked me out of the Garrison, I realized there was this… energy calling me, telling me to come out here."
"For what?"
Keith pointed at the place he'd circled on the map.
"I think whatever's here is the key to all this. I haven't really gotten a chance to explore, but there was this outcropping of these huge rocks covered in ancient markings. And then I realized some parts of it pointed to an event, some sort of arrival… last night."
Lance tried to remember. He'd made some of those markings when they'd landed, a mix of protective barriers meant to keep their energy signature hidden, his name and scattered pieces of his story if any Alteans found him, a prayer to the gods above.
Most of it was hazy; he'd been able to land safely thanks to adrenaline, had managed to stay lucid enough to scratch out those markings in half-dried blood, but he'd also been delirious and in denial.
What Keith had just spoken about… he didn't remember any of that.
"Then you showed up," Keith finished.
"Did… anyone else from your crew make it out?" Pidge asked.
"I'm not sure," Shiro said, glancing at Pidge.
"Great conversation," Hunk interrupted, "but, uh, can we talk about how there's, like, aliens? And– and they're coming. Here. Doesn't that freak anyone else out?"
Shiro wet his lips.
"You said something about Voltron earlier, right? I think… I think it's some kind of weapon they're looking for. Whatever it is, we have to find it before they do."
"Huh," Hunk said. "Oh, check out this picture I found of Pidge last night. Look, it's his girlfriend!"
Pidge turned a dark red and snatched the photo out of Hunk's hand, but not before everyone had gotten a good look at it. He was standing with a girl, the two of them grinning brightly at the camera.
There was no way that was his girlfriend, though. For one, Pidge hadn't ever showed interest in girls, and the two people in the picture looked too much alike to not be related.
Something flashed across Shiro's face too quickly for Lance to decipher.
"What the hell were you doing in my stuff?"
Lance winced. Pidge was a small guy, but he wasn't a force to be taken lightly. He reminded Lance a lot of his sister–
Hunk held up his hands and had the decency to look somewhat guilty.
"I was looking for a candy bar," he whined, "but then I found Pidge's diary–"
"Hunk, you're a genius," Lance interrupted, "but dude, you better shut up before Pidge guts you like a sheif."
"A what?"
Lance coughed.
"A fish," he corrected, hoping no one had read too much into his slip-up. To be fair, shieves were pretty similar to Earthen fish, and Lance didn't tend to think much before he spoke sometimes.
Hunk cleared his throat.
"So I noticed the repeating numbers Pidge wrote down look a lot like a Fraunhofer line."
Keith stared. "A Frown-what now?"
"It's basically–"
"Something that we can use to track down Voltron," Hunk said excitedly, "like, I can probably build a machine to help us look for it. Like a Voltron Geiger counter."
He chuckled, looking pleased with himself. Lance held his hand out for a high-five.
He didn't mention how much easier it would be if Lance just led them straight to Blue – not that he liked that idea much, but he wasn't sure he could deter them from wanting to find Voltron.
"It's pretty fascinating," Hunk said, lifting the paper up to the map, brow furrowing in concentration. "The wavelength… it kinda looks like the map–"
"Give me that," Keith said harshly, tearing the paper out of Hunk's hands and holding it up so that they could all see how it lined up exactly with the tops of the rocks.
Shit, Lance thought. What the quiznack was science even?
"That's freaky, dude," he said. He and Hunk exchanged glances, and his friend shrugged.
"So," Shiro said, crossing his arms over his chest and appraising them all, a look crossing his face as if he liked what he saw in the five of them. "To Voltron it is."
welcome to altean!lance hell, folks! I love Altean!Lance (tbh just Lance in general) with all my heart - come flail with me on tumblr at achievingelysium.
(Also: you can find a playlist for this fic on 8tracks under the same name!)
also,, season 2 is coming and i ca n' t
achieving elysium