A/N: This was written for Dark Voltron Week on tumblr. As such, it has dark themes including, death, vomit, and a brief mention of suicide. This has been your warning.
(Also this was kind of spur-of-the moment so make of it what you will. I don't think I'll start writing more Voltron any time soon.)
It was going to take more than a twenty-foot wall of slick, smooth stone to keep Pidge in this underground prison. She was sure of it. She ran her fingertips along the dark rock until they found a slight ridge, no deeper than an inch. She tugged a little to test her grip. The ledge didn't crumble away like the last one had. Good. Gritting her teeth, she hoisted herself up.
It was her foot that gave way this time, her sore, bare toes slipping, and then she was falling.
The sludge at the bottom did next to nothing to cushion the impact, just like it hadn't the last ten times. Stripped of her armor, it knocked the breath out of her and put pressure on her already-bruised shoulders. She moaned, sitting up so her back was to the wall to catch her breath. It ended with another round of coughing, the same hoarse and wet sounds that had gotten her caught in the first place.
It was supposed to be an easy mission: infiltrate a Galra supply ship, steal their information, redirect it so the supplies went to a nearby planet that had been under Galra siege. She and Keith had made it onto the ship, at least. A Galra soldier wandering off his patrol route for a bathroom break had then discovered them earlier than they had allotted for, and the chase began before they had even reached the control room. A wayward blast had hit a pipe filtering toxins out of the engines, and Pidge hadn't been able to seal her helmet before the foul chemicals burned her throat and lungs.
Somewhere in the struggle that followed, she lost Keith, her bayard, and her consciousness. When she woke up, she was on a Galra prison ship.
As her coughing subsided, she was left with the silence of the cavern. From what glimpses she caught of the world before she was dropped into its belly—tall, sturdy, dense grass at least two heads higher than her—she guessed it wasn't inhabited by any living creatures. It meant the only sound was the occasional breeze and her own harsh breathing.
A soft thud.
Instantly alert, she tried calling out, even though previous attempts had been fruitless. "I know you're up there!" The sound didn't even echo back, the cavern too small and the strange rock too soft.
A few seconds passed without answer, and she growled in frustration at the opening high over her head. "Let me out now and I'll consider telling my Lion not to crush you!"
A bit of dirt slid down, catching in her hair. She brushed it out in irritation as a soldier snickered down at her. Not Galra—scaly skin coated in some kind of viscous fluid and red eyes that glowed in the dark made that clear enough—but wearing the insignia of one. He had accepted money from the soldiers who brought her here before he dragged her through the forest of tall grass and lowered her into the sludge. "You're still trying to get out?" His voice sounded like an old water faucet, a piercing tone and several deeper rumbles beneath it.
Pidge glared.
"Most prisoners give up after the first few quintents."
Pidge didn't reply, the familiar chill of knowing what the sludge was creeping back before she pushed it away again. She stood, her bloody fingers finding the now-familiar ledges that have held up the last several climbs attempts. With a deep breath that she quickly regretted, she pushed off, starting the climb again.
More dirt fell over her. She risked breaking her concentration—don't fall don't fall don't fall—to glance up briefly. "You're not going to stop me?"
The guard smiled, his oversized mouth revealing several rows of sharp teeth. "You won't make it."
"Watch me."
She pushed up, pulled, searched for another handhold. The first one crumbled, so she reached for another one higher up. It was a decent depth, but when she started trying to pull, her arms shook and burned with a cramp. Her breath caught, but she pushed up to the tips of her toes, hoping the extra leverage would be enough to get her started—
This time she landed on her knee, and the sound was loud enough to echo. The pain was immediate and pulled a sharp whimper from her chest. She stayed where she laid, eyes crushed shut, resigned to waiting until the initial pain died away to try to examine the injury.
Her eyes flew open when she heard a hum of affirmation above her. The soldier nodded sagely. "Yep, won't be long now."
When her breathing had somewhat evened out again, she carefully sat up, back to the wall again. Pidge bit her lip. It began to bleed, but the small pain helped dull the bigger one. She couldn't bring herself to move her leg yet. "Voltron is coming."
"I'm counting on it. That's the only reason I'm still here."
Pidge snorted. "Full offense, you won't stand a chance against Voltron."
"Oh, I know."
Her hands stilled their exploration of the sludge around her. (She hadn't found bones yet, but she suspected they had sunk in the deeper sludge further away from the wall that she hadn't explored yet.) "You know?"
She wasn't answered. Instead, a piece of jerky and half a bottle of water was thrown down, the same rations the guard had been feeding her each day when he dropped by. It was hardly enough, and tasted disgusting, but if she wanted any hope of escaping she'd need fuel to do it.
"I don't have to beat them. I just have to keep them from finding you." The alien's face shifted into what must have been pride, hand fisted over his heart in the Galra salute. "I am the only one entrusted with the knowledge of your location, young paladin. Not even Emperor Zarkon knows where you are being kept."
Pidge felt her blood run cold. It meant, if he was planning on being captured—
"A little misdirection can go a long way." The guard's eyes flashed. "Especially when you're working with a time limit. Without my rations, I'd give you—" he tilted his head, raking his eyes over Pidge's body. She barely suppressed a shiver. "—Two quintents."
Pidge wanted to argue. The Lions had technology that could—but the absorbency of the stone meant none of the sensors would work. If she wanted Voltron to find her, she would have to get above ground.
"So I remind them that I'm the only thing keeping you alive, send them too far away to follow me, and you remain under the care of the Galra Empire until you die."
Pidge steeled herself, and, bracing her forearms on the wall for support, pushed to a shaky standing. The pain was incredible, sharp pops of fire radiating from her knee. "Fat chance," she finally replied, but the venom she intended was lost beneath the stringy breaths she was limited to.
The guard chuckled darkly. "Farewell, paladin." With a careless wave, he disappeared from the hole.
It was exhaustion or the sludge or a mixture of the two that made Pidge slide back down to sitting. She wouldn't be climbing anymore. Her knee was probably broken.
She stared numbly at the wall on the other side of the cavern, no more than ten feet away. She contemplated living there for the rest of her life, in the dark and the sludge that smelled like rotting fruit. And suddenly, she understood why all the bones would be in the deep end of the sludge pool.
Bones.
An idea.
Even if she couldn't get herself above ground, she could maybe throw something else out. A bone wouldn't show up on the Lion's scans on any other planet, but maybe it would be enough of an anomaly on this lifeless one that it would cause a blip in the sensors.
With a new plan in mind, Pidge found her second wind. She scooted to the edge of the cavern and used what handholds she could find to help hoist herself to a semi-standing position. It hurt with the same intensity as before, but this time she had a goal and it was almost enough to make her ignore the pain. Cautiously, slowly inching her good foot forward so she could find the drop-off and sliding her hands along so she could maybe catch herself if she misstepped, she worked her way out until the sludge was waist-high.
The stone floor beneath her was slippery under her good foot, but she knew she wasn't going to find anything close to the wall. She took a few breaths, wondering if this was going to be her last stupid decision, then deciding it was still better than being blackmail for the rest of her life. Her first step forward was too big, and her foot slid a few centimeters before she caught her balance using her bad foot.
No big steps, got it.
She took tiny steps—hobbling, really—out, trying to feel for anything with her feet. She was not about to reach down and search with her hands; she wasn't sure how toxic the sludge was and didn't want to go dunking her entire head in before she was sure she'd reach something for the effort.
When she felt something solid beneath her bad foot, her first instinct was to flinch back, which almost resulted in her toppling again. Then she came to her senses, and felt around it with her toes. Solid, long, curved ends. Definitely a bone.
She gulped, closing her eyes to steady herself. She had known there would be bones. That was the point of coming out this far again.
It didn't make her feel much better.
Balancing on her bad leg wasn't easy or painless, but she managed. Her other foot, she scooped beneath the long bone and pulled upward from the goop. It broke the surface with an unpleasant squelch and even worse odor. There was still cartilage attached to the ends. Holding back the urge to vomit, she tossed the bone toward the shallow end, where it landed with a splat.
She couldn't hold back her gag reflex anymore after finding two more bones, the last one looking like the exoskeleton of a large spider head.
The three bones would have to do. She made it back with more effort than she would have liked and gratefully slid down to sit against the cave wall. Now that she was sitting under the light, she could see that the bones were discolored with a greyish hue and were full of pockmarks where the sludge had begun to eat away at the weakest points. It had caused the eye sockets in the spider head to gape wider than they originally were, so that Pidge could almost fit her fist through them. It posed a problem in that the organic matter may be too worn away for the Lions' sensors to pick them up, but then again it was better than doing nothing.
She appraised the height above her. Twenty feet; two stories. Even climbing, she hadn't gotten more than ten feet up. She wasn't the most athletic of the paladins, and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to throw something as heavy as the spider skull that high. Or if it was delicate enough to shatter when it landed.
Still.
She fished the long bone out of the sludge again and flicked some of the excess fluid off. It was still coated in a layer that made it slippery, but as long as it didn't drip down her arm she wasn't going to complain. Pushing to stand again proved to be more difficult than the last time; her bad leg kept trying to buckle and she could only hold onto the wall with one hand at a time. But she managed, her fingernails scraping the wall with a white-knuckle grip. She tossed the bone in her hand, testing the weight and estimating the force she would need to create. The longer she looked up, the further away the opening looked.
She threw.
The tip of the bone ran into the wall before reaching the top, knocking it backward and away from the opening. Pidge ducked when it landed and splashed sludge everywhere. Then, before it sank too far to find easily, she reached out to pull it back in.
Flick. Throw. Miss. Repeat.
On her third try, her frustration propelled it far enough it cleared the opening with a foot to spare and disappeared from her view. She panted, heart racing at the idea. She could get away with this. She could actually escape.
The second bone, now that she knew the force necessary, made it up easily enough. She aimed so it would land on the other side of the hole, in case her guard found the first and kicked it back in.
The spider head. She pulled it from the sludge by one of the eye sockets. It was big enough to put a strain on her wrist. She figured if she missed and the bone hit the wall it would shatter into a million tiny shards she would have to avoid later on.
One shot at this.
She exhaled on the release, wrist popping at the odd angle she was forcing on it. The head somersaulted through the air and landed on the lip of the entrance, the eyes staring down at her. Pidge held her breath, waiting for it to overbalance and tip back inside.
But it stayed.
Satisfied, she slipped back to her bottom. All she could do now was wait.
It never quite got dark on this planet, but she guessed it had to do with the dual suns hanging in the sky. Right now, it was about as dim as she learned it would get, so she estimated it was the planet's equivalent of nighttime when she heard the guard coming back.
She adjusted her seated position, wincing when the movement jostled her leg again. It was swollen and tender to the touch, and she was sure that walking on it so much had only made it worse earlier.
"Young paladin, what have you been up to?" She looked up, and there he was, pointy teeth and a smile as wide as his face. "There's duzadeso up here, I almost though you had managed to get out." He chuckled darkly.
He looked over at the spider skull, still grinning down at Pidge. From his angle, he could only see the smooth back. "What's this?"
She watched it like slow motion. He reached across the opening, intending to grab the skull. His foot slipped in the sludge that had seeped from it. His mouth opened to an 'oh' as he overbalanced and toppled through the opening.
Pidge flinched, looking away and covering her head.
He landed only a foot away from her. The impact splashed sludge into her hair, onto her face.
It echoed.
And then it was too quiet.
She finally got the courage to look up, and all she could do was stare at the guard's red eyes as his still body sank.
She was alone.