Written for Purple_Lion for the Voltron Summer Gift Exchange based on her prompt "If someone other than Keith had to lead the team for a whole day and deal with all the extra crap behind the scenes that Keith has to put up with - think bureaucratic red tape stuff, boring stuff"
Keith looks bad when I arrive at the scene of Allura's distress call. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but seeing him lying unconscious and covered in blood certainly wasn't it. Allura sits awkwardly on the packed dirt of the path with Keith's head cradled in the crook of her arm and her thighs supporting his body. She rocks back and forth slowly, tears dripping from her chin to his chest with an odd regularity that seems so out of place, especially when compared to the randomness of the soft, keening cries that keep escaping her.
"Allura," I call out quietly, watching as the bloodstains on Keith's tunic spread; the once pristine white now almost completely turned into a deep, wet crimson. "Allura," I try again, a little louder this time. "We need to get him back to the castle. You're going to have to let go," I coax, kneeling down to pry her fingers from Keith's arm.
"Hunk? A little help please?" I turn to face my teammate, trying hard to communicate my dilemma with a slight tilt of my head and movement of my eyebrows.
Hunk nods silently from his vantage point a few feet away. He too seems to have been caught off guard by the sight that greeted us when as we jumped from the hovercar. We had been in Castle Control with Coran when Allura's distress call came in. It was brief: she was in the forest, Keith had been injured, and they needed help right away. She'd set a homing beacon and broken the connection before we could ask for more information. We had exchanged worried looks, none of us willing to ask the unspoken question on our minds: just how badly injured was Keith if Allura was calling for help? Hunk and I then raced to the hangar knowing that there was no time to lose.
Between the two of us, Hunk and I manage to unclench the princess's fingers from Keith's prone form, though we aren't as gentle as we probably should or could be. Urgency dictates that there just isn't time to do this nicely. Hunk gently lifts Keith into the cradle of his strong arms, looking for all the world like a father carrying a sleeping child. Except for the blood. And the rasping sounds that Keith makes as he struggles to breathe.
I shake my head and force myself to look away as Hunk loads Keith into the back seat of our small vehicle and carefully secures him for the return trip to the castle. Turning my head back to the princess, I see just how much blood has stained her uniform. Fearing the worst, I reach out, tilting her chin up with one finger until she is forced to meet my gaze. "Allura, are you hurt?"
There's confusion in her eyes for a moment before my words sink in. "Hurt?" she repeats, her brow furrowed. "N-no, I'm not hurt, Lance." Then her eyes drop and she sees how red her own uniform has grown. When she looks up at me again, her blue eyes are clouded and fearful. "It's not my blood. It's all his," she whispers brokenly, her tears dripping from her chin onto the streaks and smears that cover her.
I offer her my hand, knowing there isn't much I can say to ease her pain yet. Pulling gently, I help her find her footing and lead her to the car. There is room for the three of us to sit in the front, but she refuses, demanding instead to sit on the floor in the back with Keith's hand held tightly in hers.
The trip back to the castle takes less than five minutes, but it seems like five hours before we've finally made it to the hangar. As Hunk gets Keith out of the car, I quickly finish the shut down cycle, using every shortcut I know. Before we can reach the door and enter the castle proper, Doctor Gorma and his team race into the cavernous space, pushing a slender gurney before them. In no time at all they have Keith on the bed and are on their way to the infirmary. Red trimmed gloves and the tattered remnants of Keith's bloody tunic fall to the floor leaving a trail as they disappear around a bend and are lost from view.
We just stand there for a moment, stunned in the wake of the whirlwind of medical activity. Questions swirl half formed in my head and I struggle to get them to settle and find order. "Allura?" I begin, "what were you two doing out there in the first place? What happened?" There are other questions begging to be asked, but I manage to keep enough control to prevent them all from tumbling out and overwhelming her.
She searches the floor, swallows hard, and I know it's just her way of trying to sort out her own questions and form answers to the ones I've asked. "My fault…" she whispers without looking up. Raising her hands, she studies her blood-soaked gloves, twisting them back and forth as if seeking something in the random patterns of the stains.
I recognize the look forming on her face and quickly usher her into one of the nearby lounges before she collapses. Hunk and I exchange glances over her head and he nods once before leaving us. I gently settle her into the corner of the couch and kneel before her. She doesn't resist when I tug the gloves from her hands and place the soiled garments onto the table behind me, the smell of copper strong in the air. "Allura," I call to her again as I wrap my hands around hers, grimacing at how cold, clammy, and sticky they are. "Allura…"
I call her name four or five times before she finally acknowledges me. "Lance," she breathes, as if noticing me for the first time, which under the circumstances might be true.
"What happened, Princess? What were you two doing out there?"
"I… I had a dream Lance. My father came to me, told me to flee the castle. I ran into the forest..." her voice trails off, the effort of reliving the memories overcoming her. After a minute or so, she takes a deep breath and picks up the story. "I didn't know he was following me, didn't know that he saw me leave the castle… He caught up to me in a clearing where Lotor had ambushed me. He rescued me, sent me back to the castle for help. I shouldn't have left him, Lance. I should have stayed with him…" Her eyes, shimmering with tears, search mine, as she unburdens herself to me.
"It's not your fault, Princess," I assure her, squeezing her hands gently as I speak. I don't have all the answers that I want, but I have enough of the ones I need. And now, I have more important things to take care of. I need to get an update on Keith's condition, get Allura cleaned up, figure out how we were going to manage with four pilots until Keith gets back on his feet. I refuse to even consider any other options. He will recover. He has to. But in the meantime, that leaves me in charge and I suddenly feel like a ton of bricks have been piled onto my shoulders.
I take a deep breath and start prioritizing the tasks at hand. First things first, I stand and reach down to take Allura's hands in my own again, gently pulling her to her feet, remembering to grab the bloody gloves from the table before someone else finds them. "C'mon, Princess, let's go get you cleaned up and then we'll see if there is an update on Keith."
Together we make our way to her quarters, where, based on her hurriedly abandoned pacing, Nanny has been waiting for us. She takes custody of Allura, ushering me out of the room and dismissing me when I offer to wait while she tends to the princess. I know when I'm not wanted, but I also recognize that she's not going to just help Allura freshen up and race down to the infirmary. Allura won't get out of that room until Nanny is good and ready to let her, and for once, I agree. She needs to rest. She's been through a lot. We all have.
But I don't have time to rest and process things right now. I need to go check on Keith and then… Then… Well I don't know, but I'll figure it out.
The infirmary is nearly deserted when I walk in. Pidge and Hunk sit together against one wall of the small waiting area speaking quietly to each other. I can hear raised voices coming from behind the door in the far wall, but even after I push it open a crack, I can't make them out. The words are muffled, though the urgency they convey is clear. So much for my hopes that the injury isn't as bad as it looked and that Keith would be back to business in no time. I take a step back and let the door slowly swing shut again.
I just stand there for a few moments, suddenly feeling numb as everything catches up to me. The next thing I realize is that two pairs of hands are gently guiding me down into a seat and I look up to see Hunk and Pidge peering into my face worriedly.
"What did you hear?" Pidge asks.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, Lance," Hunk adds.
"I didn't hear anything. Just a lot of urgently raised voices. I think that's what got to me. I'd been trying so hard to convince myself that his injury wasn't that bad…" I shrug my shoulders as I let my words trail off.
"It's probably going to be a while before they can give us an update," I add, shaking my head a few moments later. "I should get in touch with Marshal Graham and let him know that Keith's been injured and that we might be shorthanded for a while." I sigh and scrub at my face with one hand. I can feel a headache starting to take hold at my temples and know it's likely to only be the first of many.
When I reach Castle Control, Coran is seated at the console, the giant wall display rotating through views of different areas of the planet. At first I think he must be searching for any signs of Lotor, but then I realize that his eyes aren't focused on the screen. He doesn't even seem to notice when I stand beside him, so I clear my throat and feel a little guilty when he jumps slightly at the sound. "Sorry, Coran, didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright, Lance. I was just lost in thought," he tells me sheepishly.
"You're worried about Lotor being on the planet and trying to grab Princess Allura again, aren't you?"
"Somewhat, but I was more worried about the Commander. Hunk's description of his condition wasn't very reassuring."
"He looked bad, there's no denying that. But Doctor Gorma and his team are good at what they do and Keith's a fighter. He'll pull through. The big question, at least to me, is how long is it going to be before he's flying again?" I say with more confidence than I feel. "I actually came here now to contact Earth and give Galaxy Garrison a report on what happened. I need to get in touch with Marshal Graham."
Coran's fingers fly over the controls, opening a channel to Galaxy Garrison headquarters and convincing an assortment of administrative personnel that we need to speak to the Space Marshal urgently. When we finally get connected with his office, we explain the situation to him, and provide him with as much information as we have, including a lack of specifics about Keith's condition. Of course, he has questions (don't we all?), many of which we have no answers for. We answer what we can and, promising to contact him again once we know more about Keith, sign off. I glance at the clock on the console and am surprised that our call only lasted about an hour. It's not even noon yet and I already feel like I've been going for three days straight. Closing my eyes, I run a hand through my hair and take a deep breath. I'll find time to rest later. As the Space Marshal so kindly pointed out, I'm in command while Keith's out of action and that includes all of his responsibilities.
When I get back to the infirmary, I find Hunk and Pidge looking as if they haven't moved since I left them. "Any updates?" I ask, not really expecting any, but hoping for some good news nonetheless.
Hunk shakes his head slowly, shrugging apologetically.
"No one has come out or said anything yet," Pidge says quietly, his eyes on the door to the operating rooms.
I sink into a chair, lowering my head to my hands and breathing deeply as I try to figure out how Keith would react in this situation if it had been one of us who'd been hurt. And then I remember that he did end up in this position back when Sven was injured shortly after we arrived on Arus. Well, if he could get us through that, I can get us through this. Keith didn't give himself time to indulge in despair, so I can't let myself wallow either. After one more deep breath, I square my shoulders and rise to my feet. "Let me know as soon as there is any word on Keith," I command quietly as I make my way out of the infirmary. "I've got some paperwork to do that isn't going to do itself."
Making my way through the castle hallways towards the room Keith had appropriated as an office, I suddenly find myself overwhelmed with feelings of anger and frustration. Without thinking I stop walking and punch the nearest wall, the pain helping to clear my head a little and reminding me that injuring myself will only create more problems and won't solve any. It may have been a stupid, impulsive thing to do, but it served its purpose and helped get me focused on the task at hand again.
Stopping only to grab something to drink, I make it the rest of the way to Keith's office and settle myself into his chair. Thankfully, he's not normally one to procrastinate about getting things done, so there isn't a lot waiting on the desk. I glance at the few items that need immediate attention: reports on the summit meetings currently taking place here in the castle, an update on Allura's progress training in Black Lion, the injury report from her crash yesterday. Was that really only yesterday? Sighing, I complete each of the unfinished items, picking up where Keith had left off and doing my best to fill in the remaining blanks. When I finish them, my head is throbbing, my drink is empty, and my patience has been stretched to the limits. Unfortunately, there is still more to do. I've only managed to catch up on the paperwork he'd already started. I still need to start work on a report for Keith's injury, including estimates for how long I think we'll be without him. Then there's the report describing the possibility of Lotor's continued presence somewhere on the planet, but I need more information from Allura before I can really work on that one. By the time I start to look over the patrol and practice schedules, my eyes are crossing. I try to ignore the discomfort and concentrate on figuring out where we need to increase activity to make up for Keith's absence.
Hoping I haven't set anyone up for burnout, I push the paper away from me. I can't see straight, can't think straight, and my head is pounding so hard that I am starting to feel sick. I need to close my eyes for a few minutes, so I lean back in the chair, promising myself that I'll only take five minutes to rest.
There is an annoying buzzing at my side and I shift a little hoping it will stop. It doesn't. I lift my head from its pillow on my arms and look around in confusion. It takes a few minutes before I remember why I am in Keith's office, sitting at his desk. Meanwhile the annoying vibration still hasn't stopped. I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out the communicator that I'd shoved in there earlier in the day and open the connection.
"Yeah?" I mutter, still not entirely awake and way too mentally exhausted to be as witty as I normally would be.
"Lance, it's about time. Where have you been? I've been trying to contact you for half an hour. Keith's out of surgery and-"
I don't wait to hear the rest of what Hunk's saying. Snapping the communicator shut, I stuff it back into my pocket and head to the infirmary. Racing through the corridors, I take every shortcut I know (and maybe even a few I didn't realize that I knew). Hunk looks up from the communicator he's been shouting my name into and blinks at me as I burst through the doors.
"Lance?" he begins, his eyes narrowed as if he barely recognizes me. "Um, what have you been doing?"
I frown, having no idea what to make of his reaction and turn to look at my reflection in the window of the door behind me. My hair is pointed in countless random directions, there are ink smears on my face, and I think I can even make out a word printed on my forehead. Quickly running my hands through my hair, I do my best to smooth it back into some semblance of order. I'm not sure there is anything I can do about the ink, though I halfheartedly scrub at my face, then give up and pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to stave off another headache that's starting to throb behind my eyes. I honestly don't know how Keith made it through Sven's injury without having a meltdown. I can feel myself getting close and I have a lot more resources to call on than he did.
"I was working on paperwork," I say, turning back to my teammates. "Marshal Graham made it very clear that he still expected all the reports to be filed in a timely fashion, Keith or no Keith."
"So you wrote them on your face? Were you planning on sending yourself back to Earth for him to read?" Pidge asks, unable to hold back his laughter.
In a day that's been nothing but one crisis after another, it's just the distraction that we all need and Hunk and I find ourselves laughing with him. Once we compose ourselves again, I turn to face Hunk, hoping that any information he has about Keith is positive.
He gets the message from my raised eyebrows and clears his throat before speaking.
"As I was saying before you hung up on me, Keith's out of surgery. Doctor Gorma said that he's stable now, but we won't be able to see him for a while."
"Did he say how long before he could join the team again?"
He just shakes his head and shrugs.
"He only came out to let us know that they were able to save Keith, then he went back to help finish up," Pidge adds. "He should be back out in a few minutes and you can ask him then."
I nod and drop into a nearby chair. My head is still throbbing, so I lean back and close my eyes. When I open them again, I'm lying across a row of chairs with Hunk's vest balled up under my head. I blink a few times, taking in my surroundings and groaning as the memories come flooding back. Sitting up slowly, I scrub at my face before tossing my makeshift pillow at Hunk. He and Pidge sit nearby, studying me with concerned expressions on their faces. I raise an eyebrow at them and exhale heavily.
"What?" I grunt out, no longer worrying about the niceties.
"Are you OK, Lance?" Pidge asks. "You kinda passed out."
"Yeah," I reply quietly. "It's just been a very stressful day, my adrenaline is wearing off, and I have a pounding headache. How Keith got us through Sven's injury with his sanity intact, I'll never know," I continue, shaking my head. "I don't think I ever bothered to pay attention to just how much paperwork he has to do on a regular basis. Next time he complains about needing a break, remind me of today, OK?"
"Sure, Lance," Hunk offers with a chuckle. "We'll remind you and you'll laugh at us and insist that he's just exaggerating. Or that he just wants to punish us for something. Or whatever excuse you'll have for why he's just complaining for nothing."
"No, I'm getting a good enough taste now to realize that he's understating some of what's expected of him. Did I miss the doc coming out with an update?"
They both shake their heads in response, so I stand and pace the room a bit. But I've barely begun when the door opens and Doctor Gorma strides in. He motions for me to sit near the others. I swallow down my retort and do as he indicates. He drops into a seat facing us and takes a moment to gather himself. "I'll start with the good news," he says, his eyes searching mine. "Keith will recover. We were lucky, had the injury been any deeper or had it taken any longer to get him here, and things might have been different."
"That's great, Doctor Gorma," I say, feeling the weight starting to lift from my shoulders already.
"Don't get too excited yet, Lance. We almost lost him a few times. He's going to have a long recovery ahead of him. And it's going to be a while before we can be sure of a full recovery."
"How soon before we can see him?" I ask, wanting to judge his condition for myself.
"We're keeping him sedated for now. Not quite a medically induced coma, but he needs to rest and remain still for a while to make sure he doesn't reinjure himself. I can let you in to see him, but we have no plans to let him wake up again before morning."
I nod silently and stand. The scraping of chair legs on the floor lets me know that Hunk and Pidge have risen as well. Without uttering another word, Doctor Gorma leads us through the doors and into the short hallway behind them. As we pass the operating room where medical personnel are still cleaning up, I stop for a moment, a cold chill running down my spine as I take in the sheer volume of blood staining their surgical scrubs. And then it hits me. Keith almost died. The view before me wavers and blurs and it isn't until I feel a piece of cloth pressed into my hand that I realize I've started crying. I quickly dab at my eyes then turn to join the others as they enter Keith's small recovery room.
There is barely enough space for us all to fit in the room and after giving us a strict fifteen minute limit for our visit, Doctor Gorma excuses himself. The three of us take up positions around Keith's bed, doing our best to help him heal with our very presence. He's pale, but at least he's breathing on his own, his chest rising and falling slowly in a regular rhythm. Blankets have been pulled up to his shoulders, a bit of bandaging peeking out from beneath them. For a while we don't say anything, just stand there and watch him breathe, reassuring ourselves that he's still with us.
"Hey, Chief," Hunk whispers, "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but if you can, just know that we're here and concentrate on getting better quickly."
"Yeah, Skipper, we need you back before Lance has a nervous breakdown trying to fill in for you." Pidge adds, barely holding back a snicker.
"Funny Pidge," I mutter. "Don't listen to him, Keith. I'm not about to have a breakdown. But, the sooner you take your job back, the better. I'm not sure I'm cut out for all this paperwork."
Our chuckles draw Doctor Gorma's attention and he comes back to let us know that our time is up. Before I can follow Pidge out the door, Allura races in and rushes to Keith's side. I'm not sure why, but I decide to hang back as the others leave. She sits lightly on the side of the bed and strokes his cheek gently. As I watch, she bites her lip, then pulls her hand back as if scalded, and gets to her feet. She starts a bit when she turns and sees me standing here. "Oh, Lance, I didn't realize you were here," she says quietly, her eyes downcast.
"I'm not sure if you heard, but Doctor Gorma thinks he's going to be alright. They're just keeping him asleep until morning as a precaution."
"No, I hadn't heard, Lance. I came in to see if there was any news and heard laughter so I followed it. Thank you for letting me know. I'm glad he's recovering." But there is no real joy in her expression.
"Are you OK, Princess?" I ask. Her reaction isn't what I was expecting and it's got me concerned.
She nods without meeting my gaze and I know she's lying. What I don't know is why or what's bothering her. I drape my arm around her shoulders and gently lead her from Keith's room. As we cross the threshold, I glance back at him briefly and wonder just what happened between them out there in the forest.
We walk out into the waiting area and I guide her down into a chair. "Wanna talk about it?" I ask as I take a seat facing her.
She looks at me and frowns. "There really isn't much to talk about, Lance. I'm happy that Keith's recovering, but I have things to do now."
Before I can react, she gets to her feet and leaves. I look back at the doors leading to Keith's room for a moment, then turn and follow her out of the infirmary.
My stomach starts grumbling on the way to Keith's office and I realize that it's dinner time. Changing directions, I head to the dining room. Tonight's evening meal is a quiet affair. Allura sits at the head of the table, pushing the food around on her plate but hardly eating any of it. Pidge and Hunk are too busy inhaling their own dinners to notice, and while I'm hungry from skipping lunch, I find myself too preoccupied to dig in as heartily as they are.
Once Hunk and Pidge come up for air, I try to engage the table in small talk, but Allura refuses to join in. A few minutes later, she excuses herself and leaves. The rest of us finish dinner and a short time later, I find myself standing outside Allura's chambers. It takes me a few minutes to think of a reason to be here. Then, remembering the paperwork that I still need to fill out about Keith's injury and Lotor's presence on the planet, I knock purposefully on the door.
It takes Allura a minute or so to open it and when she does, I can see that she's been crying. Her eyes are red and she won't look at me. "What is it, Lance?" she asks my feet so quietly that I can barely hear her.
"I need your help with some reports, Princess."
"Can it wait, Lance? I'm really not in the mood to do paperwork right now."
"There's a mood to do paperwork?"
She just gives me a look that tells me that she's in even less of a mood for my commentary than she is for paperwork. "Lance…"
I run my hand over my face and stifle a grunt of frustration. Meeting her gaze, I chew my lower lip and think for a moment. Impulsively, I reach out and grasp her arm. She lets out a little gasp of surprise but doesn't try to free herself until I start to gently pull her down the hallway.
"What do you think you're doing, Lance?"
"We need to talk, Princess. With Keith laid up, I'm acting captain of the Voltron Force and that means that it's now my responsibility to deal with any problems that are bothering members of my team."
She huffs in response, but stops struggling. I lead her to Keith's office, moving through the castle hallways in silence. Once I've closed the door behind us, I usher her to the small loveseat that sits against one wall. As she makes herself comfortable, I perch on the table facing her. I let a few moments pass quietly then take a deep breath as I decide how to approach this.
"Allura, I'm not sure what happened out in the woods between you and Keith or if that's even what's bothering you, but you need to talk to me. We're already one person short, I can't have some unknown issue keeping you from being fully effective too. If anything, I need us all to be more effective than normal to make up for Keith's absence."
Her eyes glitter with unshed tears as I speak and I'm actually oddly impressed that she manages to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. She swallows hard, her lower lip trembling and I fight the urge to pull her into my arms. As acting captain, I have to maintain a certain distance, have to treat her as I would the others, but it's not easy and I find a newfound respect for Keith's self-control. Knowing how he feels about her, I can't imagine how torturous it has to be for him when he can't comfort her the way he must want to.
"It's nothing, Lance. It's not important. I guess I just misunderstood something," she mumbles quietly.
I don't say anything right away, I just sit silently studying her as she plucks at the knap of the couch's fabric. "If it's bothering you this much, it's not nothing, Princess. C'mon, tell me what's going on. What did you misunderstand?"
This time when she looks at me, the tears are streaming down her face. "Lance, please, don't make me say it."
"Hey, don't you trust me?"
She nods, but still doesn't tell me what's bothering her. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose trying to keep my own frustration from bubbling to the surface. "Allura," I coax gently, "please, talk to me. I'm here to help you." Dropping to my knees before her, I take her hands in mine, forcing her to look at me. "What happened? Let me try to help you."
I can practically see her resolve crumble as her tears turn to sobs. "I thought… he loved… me… Lance…" she chokes out between hitching breaths, "but he doesn't," she finishes with a wail.
Great, just what I need to deal with now. A brokenhearted princess. I don't have Keith's self-control, so I wedge myself into the loveseat next to her and pull her against my chest. I stroke her hair and make soothing sounds hoping to calm her enough to figure out where she got the idea that Keith doesn't love her.
Once her breathing slows down and evens out a little, I gently push her away from me until I can catch her eye. "OK, first, what are you talking about? Why would you think that he doesn't love you? Of course he loves you. I love you. Pidge loves you. Hunk loves you. We all love you."
She shakes her head and sits up. "No, Lance, that's not what I meant. I thought he and I had something special, that there was an unspoken connection between us. But after he collapsed in my arms, he looked me straight in the eye and told me that he was sorry, but he never loved me," she finishes, biting her lip.
I blink in confusion, and feel my brow furrowing as I try to make sense of what she just said. She had to have misheard him. Keith would never have said something like that to her under any circumstances. "Are you sure you heard him right?"
"Positive."
"Allura, I just don't believe that he would have said that."
She meets my gaze evenly, and there in no doubt in her expression. "But he did," she says calmly as she stands and leaves the room.
I stare at the closed door for a minute then let my breath out in a sigh as I realize that not only do I now have this new problem to deal with, but that Allura left before I could get her to work on the reports with me. Well there isn't anything I can do about it now. There is no way I can get her to do paperwork tonight and frankly, at this point, I'm exhausted. It's time to call it a night, so after one last glance at Keith's desk, I leave the office and seek the comfort of my bed.