"You need to rest."

"I'm fine, really."

"No you're not, Shiro. You look like death warmed over. Come on, I've gotten enough rest, now it's your turn."

"I'm not tired. I'm too on edge."

"Uh huh. And Lance doesn't ask me stupid shit like 'Do you think cacti have feelings' at three in the morning. You're shaking, and you look like you're going to faint any second. Now lay the hell down before I knock you out myself."

"Pidge-"

"That's an order."

Shiro's eyebrows rose in surprise, trying very hard not to crack a grin. "Really? You're giving me orders now?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, and her eyes themselves became glossy, as if tears had suddenly sprung up in them, before she said, "I obeyed yours, even though it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I think you can suck it up and obey mine just this once."

He hesitated for a moment longer, looking as if he wanted to protest further. Yes, he may have been her leader, and he would always be her leader, whether in the Castle of Lions or in a dingy Galra prison cell, like they were currently. The location didn't matter. What did matter was that they both stayed alive long enough for the other paladins to find them and break them out, and Shiro wasn't going to accomplish that if he insisted on ignoring his body's needs.

Especially considering what it had been put through just a few short hours ago.

However, he made one last, ditch attempt and insisted," Pidge, you're dehydrated. You've been through a tough time. You need your rest more than I do."

He wasn't wrong, and she could see his point. Her head was still pounding, and she herself was quite cold and weak. Their armor had been removed when they arrived, and her remaining shirt had been torn open, hiding nothing from anyone's view. And that witch, she had…she had…

Pidge held back a shiver of mortification, before hardening her face again, growling, "That's hilarious coming from you right now. Pretty sure Haggar managed to purge every fluid from your body, Shiro. Now enough, I'll kill you if you make me beg."

Her voice had begun to waver, and that seemed to drain the last bit of fight left in him. His shoulders drooped, and another shiver wracked him, making his frame vibrate even harder. As a final testament to what a complete wreck his once healthy young body had become, his chest lurched, a cough spurred on by the shivering, and a few drops of blood leapt from his lips to spatter on the floor with a small plip. Wincing, he rubbed his throat, wishing it were possible to have a drink to ease the fire that still lingered there.

Pidge stared at him expectantly, and Shiro heaved a sigh, laying down carefully where he was, hissing with discomfort. The floor was cold and hard, and the Galra had taken away his arm to decrease his chances of escaping. It seemed that they had learned their lesson the first time when it came to their former Champion, but it made finding a comfy position to sleep in all the more difficult.

The girl flinched when she saw his pitiful attempts to get comfortable, and made up her mind quickly. She moved to sit over by his head, and when he looked up at her quizzically, she patted her thigh.

"It's the only pillow I can offer you," she explained, "Wish I could give you the rest of the bed too. I'm sure everything hurts."

He refused to meet her eyes when he answered, "It…well, I mean"-

"You don't have to bullshit me, Shiro. I'm a big girl, I can take it."

"I…yeah. It feels like my insides were scrubbed out with a laundry brush."

"No shit they do. So here." She patted her thigh again.

Groaning with the effort, he hefted himself the two inches forward it took to lay his head on her lap, trying to ignore the blush crawling down his face and neck at her nakedness. But it wasn't her fault, and truth be told, it filled him with anger more than embarrassment. It only proved what vile beasts the Galra were, and how they'd stop at nothing to utterly destroy a person.

If nothing else, he was the ultimate proof of that.

Soon, he found that he couldn't hold onto his anger any longer, for it was being drowned out by exhaustion so emphatic and profound that it nearly stole his breath away. Pidge watched as within minutes, his head grew heavier on her lap, breaths becoming smoother and deeper, the rise and fall of his diaphragm barely perceptible. Yet his expression remained tight and pained, and a knife of empathy dug into her heart. At a loss as to how she could help him in a place like this, she settled for gently running her fingers through his hair, hoping that the repetitive motion would be enough to soothe him. She remembered being little and her mother brushing her hair back for her in the morning, and how sleepy and soothing the brush rubbing against her scalp made her feel. And sure enough, in a few more moments, the lines from his face smoothed, and his breathing grew heavier, until she was sure he was deep under the healing spell of sleep.

The first thought that came to Pidge in the sudden silence of the cell was that her leader had such an aura about him, an aura that radiated something far more grand and powerful than she could ever hope to name, and had such an uncanny ability to earn the respect of nearly everyone he met that at times he seemed almost inhuman- however, all that seemed to go away when he was asleep. Pidge felt like she was almost glimpsing through a window in time and looking at a Shiro before the Kerberos mission, when he was still young, fresh, and naïve. Above all else, the veil of sleep seemed to lift away the year of trauma and make her commander look unbelievably young, as young as her brother even.

The second thought was that in light of this information, she realized he reminded her very much of her brother. And in Matt's absence, it felt good to, in a way, have a piece of him here with her. Someone who could stand in for him until she found him again. And Pidge came to the conclusion pretty quickly that she would be ten times as nervous as she was if she didn't have Shiro's comforting heat and weight against her, reminding her that she wasn't alone, and that she still had at least part of her team here with her.

Although Pidge doubted they'd be able to offer much resistance, if what Haggar had done to them when they tried proved anything. They were utterly at the mercy of their enemy, and the Galra wanted to make sure they knew that. Fear keeping her wide awake, she continued to run her fingers through Shiro's hair in a feeble attempt to comfort him (and by extension, herself as well), letting his soft breaths warming her thigh keep her body grounded, while her mind wandered back to the horrors of when they first arrived.

000

"What a fine picture you two make," Haggar had observed, "Truly delicious if I do say so myself. The quintessence in your bodies is quite remarkable."

She glided next to Pidge, placing a hand on the side of the girl's face and stroking her cheek. Pidge's lips pulled back over her teeth, and she jerked her head back violently out of the witch's reach. However, the chains prevented her from moving more than an inch, and Haggar placed her lips by the girl's neck, eyeing Shiro purposefully.

"You wouldn't mind if I sampled some of it from her, would you?" she asked him, her lips curving into a grin as they met the skin of Pidge's neck.

"Haggar!" Shiro snarled, lunging as far as his chains would allow him, "Get your hands off her or I swear I'll"-

"You'll what, Champion?" she asked, running a finger over Pidge's exposed collarbone, before moving it downwards, slowly and threateningly, "What can you do, trapped and helpless as you are?" To emphasize her point, she ripped Pidge's shirt open with her claws, exposing her chest.

Pidge yipped and jumped with alarm, her heart pounding so hard she felt that it would burst through her ribcage. She managed to flick her gaze over to Shiro, and saw that he looked more furious than she had ever seen him before. His shoulders were heaving, and his teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, eyes narrowed nearly into slits.

"I'll paint the walls with your guts," he breathed, voice deadly and low.

Haggar laughed at his impotent rage, and simply said, "I've no doubt. But luckily for your friend, I know our Champion very well. You have a heart of ice, and have slaughtered every opponent the Galra Empire has put in front of you without a second thought. No matter what I did to the green paladin, you wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know."

She ran her finger back up Pidge's chest and neck, before it slid off her chin mockingly, and said, "That's why I brought this."

A needle appeared from inside her sleeve, gleaming in the low, purple light of the cell. It was filled with a red liquid that bubbled when it was tipped, and she held it up for them to see.

The change that came over Shiro's face terrified Pidge almost as much as Haggar hovering near her neck did. It went from an expression of vengeful hate to one of complete dread. His eyes followed the needle as Haggar approached him, attempting to no avail to break free from his chains. With one fluid movement, she pushed it into the soft, yielding flesh of his neck, pressing the plunger down. Shiro grit his teeth and tensed against it, remaining frozen even when Haggar pulled the needle out, backed away and regarded Pidge.

"The poison's in his system now," she told her, "Five minutes, he'll start to feel it. Twenty, and his vascular system will feel like it's on fire. Thirty, the hallucinations start. He will scream. He will beg for relief. Fortunately…" She paused. "You have the power to give it to him." Haggar pulled a second syringe out of a pocket in her robe. "All it costs is what you know. Just tell me where the other lions are."

"Don't tell her anything," Shiro demanded. His eyes glittered intensely, and Pidge's heart pounded with a new resurgence of dismay. "Whatever I do or say, you don't-"

He took a sudden breath, moving stiffly against his chains. His mouth opened slightly and the muscles around his jaw tightened. "Ah…" he stifled a small noise.

"Works quickly, doesn't it?" Haggar observed.

Shiro swallowed hard, steeling himself. "That's an order, Katie," he forced out.

Pidge gasped softly, shaking her head, hundreds of emotions welling up in her so fast and fiercely that she couldn't hope to discern them all. Her breathing became panicky, and she pulled on her chains, trying to get closer to Shiro. Even from here, she could see his pulse pounding in his neck, his rapid heartbeat also circulating the poison through his system even faster.

"Shiro," Pidge exhaled, her throat tight, "I can't"-

Her leader grunted sharply, before the sound was followed by a scream. And then another, and another, all flowing into one never ending cry of torment. He writhed for several minutes, back arching, unable to still himself, and to Pidge, it looked like he was desperately trying to escape his own body.

Then the vomiting started.

The girl wasn't surprised, but it didn't lessen her apprehension any. Throwing up was usually an automatic response to poison as the body tried everything in its power to rid itself of it. But she had never seen it in person before, and immediately decided she never wanted to again. It was so savage, as if his stomach was trying to expel everything inside it by literally turning itself inside out. And what was worse, even when he was completely empty, still his muscles convulsed, forcing up bile, mucus, and whatever else was left. Pidge let out a small cry when the bile began to take on a pink tinge near the end, and Shiro slumped over, hanging by his arms in his shackles, too spent to stay upright. His back heaved in heavy pants, sweat shining in the purple light, white forelock damp and heavy.

"Stop it!" Pidge begged, "Please, don't do this to him."

"Only you can stop it," Haggar reminded her, "Just tell me where the lions are, and he gets the antidote."

"S'alright," Shiro breathed. Pidge looked down at him in time to see him lift his head and gaze at her with dull eyes, twitching and trembling all over. "Pidge, s'okay. Don't lissen. Don"-

Then the fire in his veins began to blaze.

Pidge wished that her heart would mercifully stop beating, feeling so useless and helpless that she couldn't stand it. Shiro's screams had morphed him into a creature that had become the living incarnate of pain, so much so that they didn't even sound remotely human.

And they just didn't end.

He didn't stop screaming, even after he felt blood well in his throat and he coughed it onto the floor, the poison tearing his lungs asunder. He didn't even stop when the hallucinations started and his voice was destroyed completely, his pitiful begging to Pidge to make it all end coming out in a sickening rasp.

Yet, still the girl held her tongue.

Oh, she trembled with the effort of holding back the information that Haggar sought, nearly cracked all of her teeth with how tightly she ground them together, but she did it. She cried, and apologized to Shiro over and over again even when he didn't recognize her anymore, uselessly told him to hold on and that it would be over soon, but she didn't break. She hated herself for it, but she did what he said, following orders like a good soldier.

And the knowledge that she wasn't beaten by Voltron, but instead by a damaged pilot and a child, seemed to enrage Haggar more than anything.

When Shiro at last slumped in his chains, legs too weak to support his own weight and too faint to even feel the pain for that moment, Haggar ignored him and instead appeared in front of Pidge, yellow eyes glowing with rage only inches from her face.

"That was only the beginning," she threatened, "Tomorrow I promise won't be as easy for you."

With a wicked grin that made her pointed teeth gleam for an instant, her hand shot out like a striking snake to grab the young girl by the groin. Pidge yelped in mortification, her face heating up rapidly, before she squirmed out of Haggar's hold. Her legs shook so bad she nearly collapsed.

Haggar laughed, waved her hand, and their cuffs unlocked.

000

Pidge couldn't hold it in anymore; she let the tears escape at last, and they burned hot trails down her face. Her chest shook with whimpers she desperately tried to keep quiet, but failed miserably. She had never been the protector before; she was always the one that needed protecting, and she didn't know if she was up to the task. Who was she kidding? A child like herself didn't stand a chance against a powerful witch like Haggar. How the hell did Shiro do this, this constant jumping in front of danger to save his friends without a second thought? How could he not care about his own safety and sanity, not because it was a selfish thing to do, but because instinct demanded that he did? How could he fight something so basic day after day? Pidge's hand stroking Shiro's hair began to falter and shake, and her whimpers became sobs. Not surprisingly, the sound woke him within a few minutes, and through her blurry vision, she could see that his eyes had opened, though his lids were still heavy.

"S'matter Pidge?" he wondered blearily.

Quickly, Pidge shook her head. "Nothing. Don't worry about me, just go back to sleep. It's okay, really."

He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to look disapproving, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he was more asleep than awake. Still, he took a deep breath through his nose, hoping the extra oxygen would clear his head a bit, and said, "You don't have to bullshit me, Pidge. I'm a big boy. I can take it."

Through her tears, Pidge smiled, an absurd giggle bubbling up in her chest. She hastily wiped her face, straightened her shoulders, and replied, "Just…scared. Overwhelmed. You know, the usual stuff that comes with being the prisoner of your enemy."

"I know. I feel you."

He didn't need to elaborate.

"But at least I'm not alone, right?" she said hastily, "I have you. And the others are going to come for us and it's going to be okay. In the meantime, You should go back to sleep."

"Pidge, you"-

"Please. You'll only slow us down getting out of here if you're so tired you can't walk."

It was a testament to his extreme exhaustion that he did what she said, whether he meant to or not. He managed a slurred, "M'kay. You're right," squeezed her knee, and then let his eyelids fall shut once more.

Then suddenly, after a moment of quiet, Shiro mumbled, "M'proud of you. You were so brave in there…"

Pidge waved him off. "I was just obeying orders."

"Obeying orders that were hard for you to obey. That's why I'm proud of you. You're made of strong stuff."

She thought of Haggar's face hovering near hers, and her hands groping at her chest, and could feel the tears starting up again. "I'm not…"

"You're- you are…" he sighed, the rest of his words falling away into nonsense, before sleep pulled him down in its dark depths once again.

Pidge wiped at her eyes again roughly. So he hadn't heard Haggar's intentions for her. Of course he hadn't, he had been barely conscious, probably concentrating more on breathing and keeping what little fluid remained in his body inside, than listening to anything the leader of the druids had to say. That was good. She only wanted him to worry about himself for a while.

Deciding she needed a way to calm her frantically beating heart, and needed a way to rest her stiff spine, she leaned sideways, pressing herself against Shiro's back, and placed her head on the dip in his waist. It was very bony and not at all soft, but it was warm, and his musky smell was familiar and helped to smooth out her shot nerves. Her head rose and fell with his deep, even breaths, and even this far away from his chest, she could hear his heart beating, strong and stubborn as the rest of him. She found herself trying to match his slow, sleepy breaths, and it helped to regulate her breathing and heartbeat wonderfully, lulling her into a state that was as close to relaxation as she was likely to get while being in the Galra empire's possession.

Yes, they were far away from the other paladins, but as long as she wasn't alone, Pidge maintained the spark of hope dancing bravely in her chest.

At least, until Haggar came for them again tomorrow.