APHELION
noun (astronomy) - the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun.

one: keith

"Lance?"

Pidge and Keith exchange a look when there's no response and step closer. Keith glances down the long hallway, making sure there aren't any guards before ramming his shoulder hard into the door. It shudders but doesn't give in.

"Stay here," he tells Pidge, and they nod, bayard glowing green. "I'm going in."

The comms crackle. "Uh, can you guys hurry, please?" Hunk says. "Not to rush you or anything - Shiro, left! - but it'd be really nice if we could get Lance and get out, you know, heh."

Pidge responds, but Keith is focused on getting the door open. Eventually he extends his bayard into the gleaming red sword he's used to and swings hard until he can get it. "Lance?"

There's no light in the cramped room - if it can be called that at all - but between the little light that trickles in from the hallway and his sword, he can make out a distant shape, curled up and pressed along the far wall.

His heart drops in his throat.

He and Lance aren't exactly the best of friends; actually, it's a little bit of an understatement. Keith finds the other paladin annoying and immature, always ready to pick a fight and rile up their so-called "rivalry" - though to his credit, Keith always takes the bait. There's something about Lance that just gets under his skin, that makes his guts twist in red-hot anger.

But Keith doesn't hate him. They're teammates.

It's this thought that rises above all his other ones when he sees Lance now, that the crumpled form on the floor is his teammate, that the Galra have tried to take down Voltron and so targeted the one person no one expected them to.

"Lance," he yells, forgetting to be quiet and throwing all caution to the wind as he surges forward and kneels. The sword clatters to the floor as his hands hover anxiously, not knowing what to do.

Now that he's close enough, he can make out Lance's face, his sharp, angular nose crooked and thin lips in a line, shadowed with crossed lines. There's a dark, mottled bruise on the side of his face, and Keith hisses out a sharp breath at the speckled blood that dots his skin like freckles.

Lance's eyes are open though, dull-looking and glassy, following Keith's movements as he gently lifts Lance up.

"Lance," he breathes. "you okay?"

There's no answer; Keith isn't sure if he'd been expecting one, though the slightest disappointment settles in his chest. Lance is not a quiet person - a fact that Keith, unfortunately, knows all too well - and to get nothing but silence is unsettling.

"I got him," Keith murmurs, clipping his bayard to his belt and sliding his hand's under Lance's body, bracing himself. He counts to three and lifts upward, carrying his teammate bridal-style. Lance's hands are limp and useless; his head settles against Keith's chest.

"Good," Shiro says, a thin layer of relief dusting his words. "Get back to the lions."

Lance is surprisingly light, a fact that doesn't bode well with Keith. The expression on his face doesn't help, dark brows drawn together in pain. He makes a noise when Keith and Pidge have to pick up their pace to avoid the guards.

"Sorry," Keith says breathlessly, pressing himself against a wall. Lance just screws his eyes shut tightly, his breaths low and raspy.

"This way," Pidge says, darting into an alcove, and Keith follows.

They're almost out to the main deck, where their lions are waiting, when a spray of gunfire licks at their heels. Lance groans when Keith sets him down and unsheaths his bayard, his blade wicked and deadly.

"We need back-up," Pidge murmurs, and the two of them step without speaking to surround Lance, protecting their fallen teammate.

"Hold on," Shiro says in their ears. "we're coming."

"Yeah, um, as soon as we can- ahh!"

"Hunk?" Keith cries, darting forward and taking out a sentry. He can hear Shiro saying something, but his words are drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears and the clanging of metal meeting metal.

He doesn't have to worry. Hunk is suddenly behind the line of Galran soldiers, barreling through them like a mad bull and generally causing chaos. Keith relaxes slightly when he sees Shiro following not too far behind, his arm glowing.

They hold for another moment, pushing back against the enemy as chaos reigns. Keith catches Shiro's eyes and on an unspoken cue, they turn and dart towards their lions.

Shiro scoops up Lance as they run, Pidge and Hunk covering for them as Keith acts as a guard.

"Go!" Shiro yells, one foot in the Black Lion, and the paladins scatter, covering each other as they race for their respective lions. There's an angry roar by the army behind them, the sound swelling.

Keith stumbles as he takes a hit but makes it to his lion, heart hammering in his chest when the Red Lion lifts off. He slides into his chair as his lion snaps his jaws shut.

"Everyone okay?" Shiro asks.

"We're good," Pidge says.

"Yeah," he answers. They have to wait for a moment for Hunk to answer; it's a long moment that makes Keith anxious, but finally his teammate speaks up.

"I'd be better if we were back on the Castle of Lions, and I could stuff my face," Hunk grumbles. Keith risks a glance to the left and sees the Yellow Lion lagging slightly, the Blue Lion carried safely on her back.

"I think we'd all feel a little better when we get back," Shiro says, his voice kind but strained. "Princess, are you there?"

"Yes, Shiro," Princess Allura answers. It's hard not to call her by her title. "Paladins, I'm about to open a wormhole, but be careful. You're not out of danger yet."

"No, we're not," Shiro agrees, though they are out of the thick of it. Keith directs the Red Lion so that they fall back and draw up besides Hunk, a necessary shield. Hunk murmurs his thanks, and Keith, though he knows Hunk can't see him, nods sharply.

A wormhole opens in front of them, swirling blue the color of Lance's lion, and Keith lets out a long breath as they file in. When they land in the hangar, Princess Allura already there waiting, Keith lets most of the tension drain out of his body. They're finally safe, all of them.

"Are you alright?" the princess demands as Keith stumbles out of his lion, the adrenaline wearing off. She holds out an arm and steadies him, eyes narrowing as she assesses Keith. "Are you hurt?"

He recalls being hit and nods before shrugging off her look of concern. "Just a scratch."

Pidge is out next, popping their helmet off to reveal a pinched, worried face. They run a hand through their messy hair and covers a yawn. They're supported by Hunk, who keeps a firm hand on their back even though he looks like he's about to drop.

"Shiro? And Lance?" Princess Allura asks, seeing the Blue Lion. She's answered a moment later when Shiro steps slowly from the maw of the Black Lion, carrying Lance gently in his arms.

"Oh," she says, her expression crumbling for a moment before she regains her composure. "How is he?"

Shiro shifts Lance in his arms and frowns. "Not good," is his answer. "I took off some of his armor so it wouldn't hurt him even more, but his wounds..."

In the dark hallways on the Galra ship, accompanied by the pressure of an invisible clock hanging over his head, Keith hadn't gotten a good look at their hurt teammate. But now, in the brightness of the castle and safe, he can make out the extent of the damage.

There's not much left of the thin flight suit that they wear under their armor; it's been torn to shreds, dark stains blossoming across the fabric that makes Keith sick. His body is littered with wounds, cuts and lacerations and small patches of burnt skin here and there.

And then Shiro swears, his face tightening in anger. His hand glows slightly with his emotions, and when Keith sees what's made Shiro upset, he has to turn away.

"What?" Pidge asks. "What is it?"

"Oh," the princess says again, faintly; she reaches into the folds of her dress and draws out a dagger. Bile rises in Keith's throat as she acts. "Shiro, lower Lance for a moment and brace him, will you?"

"What?" Pidge says again, sounding alarmed. "No, he needs to get to the med bay!"

"They sewed his lips together," Princess Allura snaps finally, eyes flashing as she whips her head up to face Pidge. "so he was muted, had his speech taken away from him like an animal. This needs to be done first."

Keith forces himself to get closer, to kneel by Lance's side even though that's the last place he wants to be. Lance's eyes are trained on Princess Allura, though, as she cuts away at the binding.

When she's done, she presses her dress sleeve to his lips to staunch the bleeding. Lance's groan is muffled; without thinking, Keith reaches for his hand even as Shiro grips his other one.

"You're okay," Shiro says, voice soft. "We've got you, Lance."

Princess Allura lifts her arm away, her sleeve stained red. "Come," she says sharply, her voice taut with tension as she stands. "he should be taken to the med bay immediately."

Keith is glad he's not close to Lance, not in the way Hunk and Pidge are. It makes it easier for him to follow Princess Allura, makes it a little easier to set aside what's been done to Lance so he can focus. For Shiro, duty and responsibility holds him together for the person in his arms, but Pidge remains frozen, and Hunk sobs quietly.

He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to comfort other people, so he's grateful when Shiro speaks. "Come on, you guys," he says quietly. "we all need to get some rest."

The trek to the med bay is slow and filled with half-spoken apologies. Keith tunes out the sound of Shiro's voice, steady and warm as he talks to Lance, his words like the beat of the ocean.

The situation is Keith's fault. Well, really, it's a bit of everyone's, a mixture of Lance's stupidity and unfaltering bravery; Hunk's kindness; Pidge's burning curiosity; Shiro, with his sense of duty. Keith, because it's easy for him to dismiss Lance, because he's scornful and bitter most days about how easily Lance seems to fit right in, all the time.

It started with a distress beacon and ended with even more distress. Shiro had gone with Hunk to help out a ship of crashed rebels. They'd been truthful this time - no deceiving or tricks up their sleeves.

Keith, Pidge, and Lance had gone the other way, the three of them offering to scout the area where the rebels had said the Galra ships had landed.

There'd only been one ship, destroyed and burning; Pidge had suggested that maybe the Galra had left, figuring the rebels had crashed, anyway. So they'd taken off to explore the abandoned ship, the three of them, Lance opting to climb out of his lion while Keith in Pidge stayed in theirs.

Then he'd started picking a fight, restless and something in him hungry for a taste of anger, until Keith stormed off with Pidge following, trying to reason with him, Lance left alone with his lion.

And then everything had gone wrong.

Keith works his jaw up and down, upset. He'd messed up that day; he'd caused a rift in Team Voltron and disrupted a carefully-built balance.

"Come on, buddy." Shiro's voice is low and encouraging. "Stay with me."

Lance presses his face against Shiro's broad chest, shadows covering his dark skin. Keith shifts so he can still see Lance, making sure that his teammate is still there with them.

"...'m tired," Lance croaks, fingers fisting in the fabric of Shiro's flight suit.

"I know," Shiro says, lifting him a little higher. Keith feels like he shouldn't be here, like he doesn't belong in this quiet scene. "but you have to stay awake, okay? Just for a little longer."

Lance makes a ragged noise that sounds like a whimper; Keith's hands clench at his sides.

"You...," Lance tries, but he coughs, wet and heavy.

"Breathe, Lance," their leader says.

Lance coughs again, thin frame shaking in Shiro's arms. His eyes, dark brown, shine with pain - but they're understanding, clear where they hadn't been before. He sucks in a breath, his gaze suddenly intense where it's fixed on Shiro's face.

"You should've left me behind," he hisses suddenly, Keith moving on instinct at the sound of Lance raising his voice. His arm drops to his bayard before he realizes what he's doing - Lance is not a threat. "You should've..."

"Not a chance," Shiro says fiercely.

They reach the med bay, where Coran is waiting by one of the cyropods. The man stiffens when he sees Lance but smiles cheerily, telling Lance how glad he is to see him and that he'll be "out and about in a tick's time!"

Shiro sets Lance down in the pod but stays standing there, the line of shoulders tense. He grips Lance's forearms. "I will never leave you behind, Lance, you understand?"

Lance's expression twists suddenly; he grab's Shiro's wrist. "No," he moans, crumpling forward as they all cry out in alarm. "Get it out, get it out - don't... don't trust-"

He slumps forward, unconscious. "Lance? Lance!"

Air gets caught in Keith's throat; he forgets how to breathe as he stares. Then Lance groans, eyes fluttering as Shiro supports him.

"Lance?"

Lance's eyes are dull again, hazy, like there's film covering them. Though Princess Allura, Coran, and Shiro look relieved to see Lance conscious again, Keith can't dispel this heavy feeling that's settled on his chest.

Get it out - don't trust...

"Don't trust what?" Keith says sharply, his mind whirring. "Get what out?"

Lance stares at him blankly, like he doesn't remember the words he said only a few minutes ago.

Coran helps Shiro get Lance settled in the pod as Keith demands answers, though he doesn't get any. Shiro puts a hand on Keith's shoulder and sends him a sharp look, though it's more out of worry than anything else.

"Don't, Keith," he says, tired. "the questions can wait until after Lance is healed."

He wants to argue, but his eyes are drawn to Lance, eyes now closed as the cyropod whirs to life around him. If Keith didn't know better, he would think him dead.

It's enough to quell the burning need for answers. Shiro wraps an arm around Keith's shoulders, and they sit together on the steps near Lance's pod.

"He'll be okay. Lance is stronger than you give him credit for."

It's not really what Keith is thinking about. His mind drags up more memories: circling back to the abandoned Galra ship to find nothing, angrily following the Blue Lion's tracker thinking Lance had done something stupid, finding only a tracking chip left in the dust and the signs of a struggle.

He remembers more anger, and underneath it, guilt as they all spend restless nights in the Castle, Allura pinpointing the Blue Lion's location on a Galra ship. A message demanding the trade of the princess and the Black Lion for the blue paladin.

And then only an hour earlier, with Lance's blood on his hands and fury in his heart.

"Yeah," Keith says, clasping his hands together so he doesn't have to see his red-painted skin. His fingers won't stop trembling.