Breakdown: Admiring

This is really more a collection of short companion pieces than a single fic, but posting everything separately seemed awfully silly. This one takes place after Gary.

Vince woke up late to the party.

Oh, boy, did he ever.

By the time he'd figured out what was going on, his cute little holo-pet had been flinging boulders and smashing Voltron. Okay, not exactly the congratulations he'd hoped for after beating the game's toughest challenge ever.

That scenario really had been hard, too!

So, lesson learned. No more pulling all-nighters and downloading strange holograms. Or at least, if he ever did it again, he'd know not to immediately conk out and leave the cuddly little delinquent to its own devices...

No, no. Not gonna do it again.

Daniel wasn't going to let him forget this time, in any case, and Keith had assigned him extra patrols to teach him a lesson about caution or something. But neither his roommate's harassment nor his commander's annoyance were what really stung. It was who else he'd let down.

Even if Pidge wouldn't admit it, Vince knew he'd let him down. And that... that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

Sometimes he still wondered how he'd reached this point. He'd always idolized the Green Lion pilot, even years ago on the playground when all his classmates wanted to be Keith or Lance. It didn't feel real even now... flying with his childhood hero, fighting beside him. And most importantly realizing, sometimes to his own surprise, that Pidge wasn't just a hero—he was human.

...Well, he wasn't actually human human, but anyway.

Vince watched the others. Knew what was going on there. Keith and Lance were harsh with Daniel, constantly reminding him that he was still just a cadet. Allura could be just as hard on Larmina, demanding she uphold her royal duty. But Pidge was different...

Shouldn't he feel threatened? Annoyed by the little snart who stumbled around cluelessly, his powers unlocking things by accident when the team's resident genius had studied them for years without success. Wary because Vince was feeling a bond with Green Lion, moving in on his territory. He should hate him, shouldn't he? That would be logical.

But no. Pidge was so patient, accepting. Treated him as an equal. Believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, when he didn't deserve it.

And how did Vince constantly repay him? By hurting him. Over and over. Betraying his trust on the mission near Poseidus? Pidge had shrugged it off, claimed to understand why he'd acted as he had. Questioning his combat skills on Balto? No big deal, just laughed it away and waited for a chance to prove otherwise.

And here they were again.

He knew Pidge blamed himself for Gary, and that was ridiculous. How could it be his fault? Sure, it was his game, but he wasn't the one who'd gone downloading robeasts out of it. If it weren't for Vince, the game wouldn't have been a way into the castle. That was a fact, the only fact that really mattered, and yet... he wouldn't blame the one who'd really screwed up. Which only seemed to make the guilt worse.

And maybe there was a tiny hint of paranoia in the midst of the remorse. A fear that the swift reassurances from his mentor weren't forgiveness at all, but just a dismissive disinterest in dealing with it. He didn't want to have sparked that sort of distance...

With no conscious effort, Vince found his way to Pidge's workshop.

It wasn't empty, of course. "Vince! Morning."

"Hey, Pidge." The only reason he could look at him was that Pidge wasn't looking back, focused fully on the consoles in front of him. "What're you up to?"

"Fixing the game. I found the security hole Maahox used to put Gary in." Frown. "Wasn't that hard, really... I kind of slacked off on the security updates once Wade went down. Never even thought about Lotor using it against us." His eyes were furious, but his voice was so calm. Matter of fact. He may as well have been discussing the weather. "Unacceptable, really."

Vince grimaced. "I'm sorry—"

"—Oh, cut that out. Not your fault I got lazy." Pidge looked up at him. "Are you here to try to blame yourself again?"

Didn't take him long, did it? "Maybe."

Sigh. "C'mon, Vince. We've been through this... how could you have known? Blaming yourself is completely illogical. Patching security holes in the game? My job. Not yours. All you should have to be worried about is playing the game, without having to be paranoid that every new feature is a Doom attack. So why keep saying it's your fault?"

"I... I don't know. It's hard to believe that, you know? Here I am trying to help, and I end up letting that thing loose..." He hesitated a moment, then decided to go on and forge ahead. Really, when Pidge got that curious spark in his eyes, there was nothing to do but keep talking, because he wouldn't stop digging until he got his answers. "And now you're kicking yourself over it, and you shouldn't! I gave them the opening to use your game as a weapon. And then it feels like—almost like you're blowing me off when you say you're not upset with me, because I'm so convinced you've got to be..."

Silence for a few moments. Nervousness gripped him as the emerald eyes locked on him glinted with bemusement. Maybe he'd said too much there? Discussing feelings was not exactly their usual social track. Did hyperlogical ninja scientists even talk about that sort of stuff?

"...Okay, fair enough. Let's talk about what I'm upset about, then." Pidge's gaze suddenly sharpened, and with that came an odd sense of relief. Vince braced for the worst. "Where did I go wrong, Vince, that had you thinking I designed that horrific abomination? My sense of aesthetics is definitely not that bad!"

Wait, what? That wasn't what he'd been bracing for at all. Horrific abomination? ...Oh. Hang on a minute... "Uh. I actually thought it was pretty cute."

"You what?" He slapped a palm to his forehead. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Vince hesitated. Now that he thought about it, Pidge hadn't really gotten to see Gary until it was a hundred feet tall and breaking the castle in half. Which had been decidedly less cute. "It wasn't so bad when I downloaded it! I mean, it was all chubby and big-eyed and floppy-eared and not a psychotic menace..." The look on his companion's face was getting progressively more skeptical. "Oh stop looking at me like that. What do you think is cute?"

Pidge glared. It was a playful glare, but still definitely a glare. "That's not relevant."

"Oh come on. If you're gonna diss my standards of cute, yours are definitely relevant. So let's hear it." Crossing his arms, Vince tried to glare right back, but found himself having some trouble not bursting into laughter. "And God help you if you name anything chubby, big-eyed, or floppy-eared!"

"Hardly!" And with that Pidge, pilot of the Green Lion, hero of the galaxy, Vince's own personal idol, looked at him and stuck out his tongue.

Holding back laughter became a lost cause. Maybe it was okay. Maybe Pidge really meant it. He wasn't angry, he was just himself. Letting things slide, laughing it off rather than holding grudges. He was... awesome. Grinning broadly, Vince leaned over his shoulder to watch him work.

"I like bats."

It took a moment for Vince to put that comment into context—his mind had moved away from the subject, convinced he wasn't going to get an answer. "...Bats."

"Bats."

"Bats."

Frown. "I'm sensing disagreement."

Yeah, I would hope so. "Now you're kidding."

"What's wrong with bats?"

"What isn't wrong with bats? They're all toothy and screechy and flappy and—"

"—Fuzzy."

...Um. Vince considered that, looking for a proper response, not really finding anything that seemed to fit. "Pardon?"

"They're fuzzy animals." Pidge looked up from the consoles again, eyes glinting, daring the cadet to keep arguing with him. But if Vince knew anything, it was when to back off from a battle.

Bats are fuzzy animals. Sure. Why not? He grinned, the whole world suddenly a little lighter.

Pidge really did just get more and more awesome.