Lance McClain limped into the restaurant, his one good eye narrowing when he saw who waited for him. "Marriage suits you, Majesty," he noted, lacing the words with venom. He dropped into a chair, stiffly stretching his left leg out in front of him.
Allura flushed. "Lance, it . . . it's good to see you. Thank you-"
"I'm only here because Keith asked it." Lance cut her off with a sharp gesture. "So cut to the chase, Majesty, because I don't like leaving him alone for long. What do you want?"
"Help. From all of you." Allura looked down at her folded hands. "I know I have no right to ask—"
"Damned straight you don't," Lance snapped, coldly furious. "Ask your husband for help. Or is Lotor too busy with his harem?"
"He's who I need help against. I was so wrong; he—he mistreats me, he's destroying Arus. . ." Allura looked up with tears in her eyes.
"Keith and I warned you," Lance growled. "We told you and fucking told you not to believe his promises. Nice of you to realize your mistake after we've been destroyed." He struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. "There's an old Earth saying, Majesty: 'you made your bed, now lie in it.' You betrayed us, as friends, as teammates; hope that bed's comfortable." He walked away, pausing to add, "Even if we wanted to help you, Hunk is the only one of us still able to fly, and he won't leave Pidge. Goodbye, Majesty." He hobbled out, ignoring Allura's continued tears and the stares of the curious patrons.
Keith was asleep when Lance got home, a byproduct of the powerful narcotics he was forced to rely on. Lance kissed his forehead gently, smoothing the unruly black hair back, then went to see about dinner. When he got back, balancing their trays in his good hand, Keith was awake and waiting for him. "So," the former commander of the Voltron Force said softly, words slurred from the drugs in his system, "what does the bitch want?"
Lance shook his head and set the trays down, putting Keith's on the bed table and pushing it close. "Eat first; the others are coming after dinner, and I don't feel like repeating myself." He waited for a minute to make sure Keith could handle his fork; the combination of his pain drugs and the missing fingers on his right hand meant Keith often had trouble with his fine motor control. Several fights and their physical therapist had finally gotten it through to Lance to wait for Keith to ask for help. But this time, Keith had no trouble, and so Lance turned his attention to his own plate.
Eventually, Keith put his fork down. "Let's meet the others in the conference room. At least there I can pretend I'm still a whole person." He pushed the bed table aside and grimly levered himself into his wheelchair. Lance set his own plate aside and reached for his cane, noting that Keith had eaten most of his dinner, for once, and carefully NOT looking at where Keith's legs ended mid-thigh.
Silently the two made their way through the halls to the conference room, where Sven and Romelle already waited for them. As always, Keith and Lance's habitual grimness softened at the sight of their friends, who had risked so much to rescue them from Lotor's gentle graces. Lance shook his head, still amazed at the memory of the daring commando raid the rulers of Pollux had undertaken against the Castle of Lions. The team had been chained in the castle basement, badly injured and waiting for Lotor to return and finish them off, when Sven and Romelle had burst in and swept them off to Pollux.
Hunk came in, carrying a vacantly-staring Pidge, and all of Lance's bitterness returned with a vengeance. He could deal with his own injuries, they all could, but Pidge. . . Their youngest teammate had always managed to keep a certain innocence about him, no matter what they went through, but Allura's betrayal had devastated him. He had retreated within himself, and had not spoken or acknowledged his surroundings since. Lance growled softly. That alone was reason enough to refuse the bitch's plea for help.
Hunk gently settled Pidge in a chair and sat next to him, one hand on his partner's shoulder. "So, what the hell did she want, Lance?"
Lance snorted. "For us to come fix her fuckup."
The room erupted with profanity in at least three different languages. Finally, Keith's voice cut through it all, with a shadow of his old command authority. "Enough. So, the little girl finally got a clue, did she? I hope you told her to fuck off."
"Close enough." Lance leaned back in his chair, carefully stretching his bad leg. He had foregone his pain meds to meet with Allura, and was paying the price. "I told her she made her damned bed, now she had to lie in it."
"Ja, she does," Sven said grimly. "I cannot belief she vould haf de nerve to come here, asking for help, vhen she nearly killed de four of you."
"I know." Lance wearily rubbed the empty socket under his eye patch. "And to have the nerve to tell me Lotor is abusing her and destroying Arus. Like Keith and I didn't tell her he would do exactly that until we were blue in the damned face."
Hunk snorted. "Sucks to be her. Even if we could go bail her out, I wouldn't."
"But. . . that's. . .not who . . . we are." The weak voice, rusty from disuse, startled everyone; it took Lance a minute to register that it came from Pidge. The team stared, wide-eyed, as their youngest looked at them all, intelligence in his hazel eyes for the first time in two years. "The princess screwed up . . . badly. Do we . . . punish the. . . people for it? The people we. . . .swore to protect?"
Lance wanted badly to pace, but knew his leg wouldn't allow it at the moment. He had done his best not to think of the Arusian people suffering under Lotor; they all had. Pidge was right, but. . . . "What the hell can we do about it? Even if we can get on Arus, I'm half blind and crippled, Keith's lost his legs, you and Hunk have your own problems. We aren't the saviors of the universe anymore!"
"We have to try." Pidge insisted weakly. "We're still the Voltron Force; we still made promises to the people of Arus!"
Keith exploded. "And just how the hell am I supposed to fly, Pidge? I don't have legs; I've lost half my damned fingers on my right hand... I'm fucking useless!"
Pidge wavered, then resolve tightened his jaw. "I'm going. I can't turn my back on the people of Arus."
"Then I'm going too." Fear washed over Hunk's blunt features, but quickly passed. "I can't let you go alone."
"Ve vill go vit you," Sven said after an exchange of glances with Romelle.
*You will all go* The bass voice rang through their minds; as it died away, a man appeared at the head of the table, dressed in black armor.
Keith's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"
*Have you forgotten me so soon, Keith Kogane?* The figure locked eyes with Keith.
"No. . . Black Lion?" Keith gasped in disbelief. "But what . . ."
*You are needed on Arus, all of you. You are the Heroes and Champions of Arus; you have a duty to fulfill. We will aid you. But you MUST come.* The man faded away without another word.
"Well, fuck," Lance spat. "Looks like we're going on a little trip."
