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Trust In Me
Two
Lance awoke to the shrill ringing of his phone; useless for making calls in space but the alarm still worked great. He reached out a blind hand for it and tapped somewhere on the screen, silencing it.
His head felt fuzzy, like he hadn't slept well although he didn't recall really waking up. He lifted a hand to his eye mask, shoving it up onto his forehead and blinked blearily into his darkened room.
He didn't recall having any nightmares and even with the promise of Shiro's looming training session (hence the alarm) Coran had mentioned he couldn't think of why he was feeling so discombob–
His eyes lit upon his desk, products still scattered every which way, and remembered.
Lotor.
Lance muffled the low groan by turning his head into his pillow. Of course. How could he have forgotten that creepy jerk.
But the churning unease from before was dulled and Lance let out a shuddering breath against the pillow. Sleep had helped, no matter how restless it may have been. It had offered him the space from his thoughts, from Lotor's actions.
He was fine. Everything was fine.
Today was a brand new day and Lance was going to start it off on the right foot. He wouldn't take any flack from Lotor or his comments or be toyed with like some marionette with Lotor pulling the strings. No matter what the prince did today Lance would have no part of it.
And as he'd learned from his childhood when the bullies failed to get a reaction then they stopped. He was going to stop giving Lotor what he wanted. It would be all sarcasm and barbs and stares from him going forward.
Lance pried himself to sitting, body protesting that it wanted to remain in a sleeping position and slipped the headphones from his ears. Lance silently promised himself a nap later if he survived training. It had been a few days since they'd actually had a group training session as yesterday had been their first day off from missions or assignments for the Coalition in a while and training tended to get shoved to the wayside when there were planets to liberate and Galrans to fight.
But as much as Lance complained he knew it was necessary and Shiro was a good teacher (if incredibly demanding but still nowhere near as bad as Allura had been and she had mellowed out some now too after Shiro had put her through the paces).
He threw his feet over the side of the bed…
And they landed on something soft.
He tilted forward, eyes widening as he took in his Blue Lion slippers. They were back.
He grinned, shifting his feet to go into them. Starting the morning off on the right foot indeed! Coran must have found them and brought them ba–
His right foot's toes encountered something crinkly inside the slipper.
Paper?
He brought his feet up to sit cross-legged in bed and tugged off the slipper and reached inside. There was indeed a piece of now crumpled paper.
At first he thought it might have been a wrapper, the mice did love their snacks, but it was missing the gaudy pictures and text in languages Lance had no hope of reading.
No.
This was written in English, an elegant script he had not ever seen before. His eyes scanned it, knowing that it could be somehow none other than Allura. The fact she had taken the time to translate a note and then write it down warmed him from the inside and he felt his cheeks growing pink.
Lance, the note read, I believe these belong to you and I wished to personally deliver them. Lance grinned. I also discovered in my visit that you mumble in your sleep. I find it rather endearing. Lance blushed an embarrassed pink. He was well aware he would speak sometimes while sleeping, normally a mixture of near unintelligible Spanish and English. Hunk swore though that they'd had an entire discussion one evening about much Lance hated cucumbers. For the princess to have heard him doing that?
But… she found it endearing? That was…
He hurried to finish the note before he started smiling dopily at the paper. I do hope to see you at breakfast as I missed your company last eve at dinner. Allura had missed him? He moved to smooth the crumple he'd made in the paper from where her signature was. Oh, wow, that was someth–
Lotor.
Lance froze as he took in the scrawl at the bottom, face going from pink to white in an instant.
What?
No.
Lotor?
He dropped the note as though it burned, scuttling backwards on the bed away from it.
Lotor?
Lotor had been here? In his room? Watching him while he slept?
Oh Dios. Dios Dios Dios.
Lance's stomach gave an unpleasant wobble and he swallowed heavily, choking back the acid creeping up his throat.
Panicked eyes darted about the room, as if to make certain the prince was not still in it, waiting to see Lance's reaction to his note.
But no Galran was to be seen. The only thing out of place was Lance's chair, normally situated in the space made for it at the desk. Lance knew it had been there last night.
Now…
Now it had been pulled out, flipped around and was parked nearly in the middle of the room, just an arm's breadth from his bed. A perfect spot to keep an eye on the sleeping and oblivious occupant in the bed.
Lance whimpered and backed himself further up against the wall.
What kind of game was Lotor playing?
What did he want?
His phone rang again – he'd apparently hit snooze, not off – and Lance jolted at the sudden sound, a reminder he had to get up because he had training.
Training. Where everyone would be and they'd see him as this panicked wreck all because Lotor had volunteered to drop off a pair of missing slippers. Allura had probably even encouraged him to do so, hoping to create some rapport between members of Voltron and Lotor.
And the fact Lotor had left a note?
Lance gingerly picked it up, skimming the lines again.
Nothing incriminating. Just observations, like he had made with the skincare products. If anything the note probably read as sincere, an attempt to cross a bridge.
Lance knew better.
He knew but he couldn't say anything. Not without admitting how weak and pathetic he was that such a thing was even bothering him. That he'd let something like this bother him.
And besides, Allura and Shiro had enough on their plates. They didn't need to deal with him and whatever problem this was he was having with Lotor.
Because it wasn't a problem. Not unless Lance made it one.
It was just like he'd said before. Lotor wanted a reaction. Lance just had to not react.
And this?
This didn't count. No one had seen him nearly start hyperventilating over a piece of paper.
A piece of paper he was going to destroy. Out of sight, out of mind.
Lance did so, tearing it into strips and then tearing each of those mechanically into four pieces and then splitting it again. The little pile of paper confetti that was left behind he scooped into his hand and dumped into the small trash bin below his desk.
Gone.
Never happened.
Just like this game of Lotor's. Lance was done. No more.
He forced himself out of the safety of his bed then – but was it really safe? – and shifted the chair back to where it was supposed to go. He took small comfort in the fact it wasn't warm; Lotor had at least vacated a while back, because even Galrans needed to sleep.
Lance froze then.
Where was Lotor sleeping?
Allura wouldn't have put him down the Paladin hallway, right? But yet Lotor must have had a good enough reason to traverse down here without making it seem like an extra effort to deliver the slippers.
He was probably down the hall. Maybe even just a room over.
Lance's stomach bottomed out at the thought.
He ended up shifting the chair to rest in front of the door, not that it would do much with how the Altean doors slid open. But still. Some type of barrier between him and anyone coming through just in case.
He'd never changed faster, shucking his pajamas for the black undersuit of his armour. It would be weird though for him to wear the armor to breakfast though, right? He, who was always complaining about how heavy it was and why couldn't they do training in just the underamor suits?
Yeah. That would be suspicious on multiple levels and Hunk would sniff out something was wrong like a bloodhound. Assuming Hunk didn't take one look at him now and realize something was up.
Should Lance tell him? Hunk wouldn't judge, he knew it.
Hunk also couldn't keep a secret. He'd be worried because Lance was worried and then he'd tell Allura who would tell Shiro and that was the last thing Lance wanted to happen. No. He had to pull himself together because nothing had happened.
Although…
Breakfast. Lotor's note had mentioned it but Lance, even though he felt like he might be sick if he tried to eat, couldn't avoid meals forever. He also knew it wasn't safe to go into training on an empty stomach. He'd really prefer not to faint, thank you very much, and he hadn't eaten since a light lunch yesterday.
He had to pull himself together. And so long as the others were there he doubted Lotor would try anything. He just had to get to the kitchen, find Hunk and Pidge, and hunker down with them until Lotor died.
How long did Galrans live for?
This could take a while. Maybe he'd have better luck finding a way for Lotor to leave Voltron. Yes. He'd mentioned the throne. If they could get him on the–
Lance broke the thought off with a sharp inhale.
He was contemplating making Lotor emperor of the Galra Empire.
That was it.
He needed more sleep.
After training, he promised himself. Training, hot shower and then sleep. But maybe… maybe not in his room. He'd crashed before in Yellow or Green's hangars watching Hunk and Pidge work. He was tired enough he was sure the tarp he used as a blanket would be more than comfortable.
Yes. Good plan.
Operation avoid Lotor until he died was a go.
Lance scooped up his armor, affixing the leg and foot braces so he didn't have as much to carry, and made to head out of the room for the bathroom. He wasn't going to devote the morning to a skincare routine – no point when he was going to be sweating before long – but his mouth tasted gummy and he did have to pee.
No Lotor – no anyone, actually – in the bathroom and Lance went from there to the kitchen, senses on high alert for any additional movement as he passed the few adjoining hallways. It's not like he thought Lotor was going to leap out of the shadows, but…
Well, he really had no idea what rules Lotor was playing under or if there were any other than try to make Lance as uncomfortable as possible.
If that was the aim then Lotor was doing one heck of a good job. But, Lance's eyes narrowed, if he refused to play then it was all over.
Lance entered the kitchen, braced for the worst. But it was just Allura at the table and Lance heaved out a silent sigh of relief. He must have been more audible than he thought as Allura picked her head up, a smile stretching across her lips. "Lance, good morning."
"Good morning, Princess," he greeted.
"Good morning, Lance."
Lance's head jerked to the left by the counter and fridge where Lotor was in the process of pouring himself a cup of the sort of grapefruit like juice they'd picked up at their last planet. It was such a normal thing (he'd known from Keith and the Blades that Galrans didn't eat blood and children but still, juice?) that for a moment Lance was taken aback.
He could see Allura looking at him out of the corner of his eye, no doubt waiting for him to return the apparently innocuous greeting but he could see Lotor's lip curled back, eyes dancing with amusement.
"Morning," he ground out and Allura's tiny, nearly inaudible breath of air, of disappointment, hurt him but he couldn't manage anymore than that and he couldn't make her understand why that was all he could do.
He'd wanted to go to the fridge and see what Hunk had set aside from dinner last night, but that involved bypassing Lotor in the narrow galley between the counter and fridge. Lance instead grabbed one of the clean bowls from over the ledge left in the drying rack and pivoted over to the food goo.
Cold, unappetizing food goo. It had lost its appeal after months and months and he still had no idea how a culture as advanced as the Alteans considered this a proper meal. But at least it was easy on the stomach and Lance honestly wasn't sure he could have eaten something more solid anyway.
He spent far longer than necessary at the food goo unit, stalling until Lotor had taken a seat so that he could avoid sitting by the prince himself. He strategically parked himself on Allura's other side so talking to Lotor was nearly impossible and Hunk wandered in a few minutes later, fully dressed in armor, and Pidge a few minutes after him but like Lance just wearing the underamor and leg pieces.
"You okay?" Hunk asked him quietly after Lance chirped up what he thought had been a cheerful greeting but Hunk's warm but perceptive honey eyes were staring more than a little intently. "You look tired."
"Didn't sleep well," Lance admitted, stirring his food goo with a spoon.
Hunk's expression softened. Lance didn't sleep well in general despite his love of it. It wasn't so much nightmares that kept him awake but the quiet. He'd grown up with siblings sleeping in the same room with him all his life and then when he had moved into the dorms at the Garrison he'd had Hunk and his rumbling snores and soothing presence. It was why when he'd nabbed Pidge's headphones she had to his surprise not complained and even adjusted them so they wouldn't hurt his neck when lying down. The music helped, but it wasn't a cure and some nights were worse than others.
"You gonna be okay for training?" Pidge asked, wolfing down her own bowl of goo.
"Yeah, fine." Lance searched for something to discuss that was not him. "Um, you hear anything yet about your dad?"
Pidge brightened and scowled at the same time. Lance blinked. "I wasn't authorized to go," she said, "but Matt was. He and a rebel party are supposed to infiltrate the science base later today." Her knuckles were white on her spoon. Lance understood and reached his own hand across the table, wrapping it about hers.
"They'll find him," he assured gently.
Pidge gave a tight nod.
"It won't be for at least six more varga," Hunk added. "So we thought after training we'd go sit on the bridge and wait for Matt to contact us."
"Count me in," Lance smiled, giving Pidge's hand a squeeze. Pidge managed a small smile of her own at that.
They finished their breakfast in companionable silence and then the three headed down to the training room where Shiro was already awaiting.
Pidge groaned as they entered and Lance winced along with her while Hunk did them one better and refused to step fully inside. Shiro had gone all out it seemed with one of his favorite training exercises: the obstacle course. Lance had at first thought such a thing was fun but Shiro and Allura combined had ruined that. You weren't competing against the others, you were competing against yourself and while that on its own wasn't so bad you had to beat your second score logged on the course two times before you were allowed to call it quits for the day (the first score was for you to get a feel of the course).
"Shiro," Hunk whimpered as their leader strolled over to them with a bounce in his step. "Why?"
Shiro clapped Hunk and Lance on the back. "It won't be so bad. And actually, it's going to be a different sort of course today. Think," he grinned, "team building!"
The three glanced between themselves and then Shiro.
"Team building?" Lance repeated. The obstacle courses had always been solo runs and they had an uneven number of people anyway. But a team exercise didn't sound so bad. He grinned too. "Hunk and I are going to wipe the floor with everyone, guaranteed."
"Actually, teams are already picked. One long distance fighter and one short range on each."
"But Shiro, we only have five people," Hunk put out, frowning. "Who—?"
"What the fuck is he doing here?" Pidge's voice carried and Lance turned towards the doors that Pidge was facing, back already prickling without having to see.
Lotor. Of course, with Allura at his side.
"Pidge," Allura's voice held a warning note.
"Lotor is going to be working with us on future missions," Shiro said, "and as such it's important for us all to learn to work together. I expect all of you," his gaze lingered on Pidge and then Lance, "to act as Paladins of Voltron should and treat Lotor with respect, just as he will for you."
"I am honored by this opportunity to work side-by-side with the Paladins of Voltron," Lotor said, sweeping his hand low. "By your leave, of course."
Pidge scowled but bit out a short "fine" and Hunk gave a hesitant nod. Lance swallowed and copied Hunk because any further protests would result in questions as to why and he didn't want to slide down that slope.
"We'll be rotating teams with two runs each," Shiro said. "This time it's not about beating your own score but learning to work with your partner. First two rounds are going to be Allura and Lotor, Hunk and Pidge and Lance you're with me."
Lance let out a shaky breath. Not with Lotor to start at least. But he knew it was coming. He, Hunk and Allura were considered the long-range fighters (even though Pidge could extend her bayard a good distance) and so he would find himself paired up with the prince eventually.
Maybe he could attempt to roll his ankle or something before that happened. He hated the cryo-pods but they were looking like the better option than having to work with Lotor, even though he couldn't – wouldn't – do anything with such an audience, right?
"And begin!" came Coran's voice over the loudspeaker and Lance had no more time to worry as Shiro was already shouting for him to hurry to their starting position of the course.
Training with Shiro was… intense, was really the best word. Shiro always expected the best of them and he'd reminded Lance of the little league coaches when he'd played with Hunk; encouraging them above all else while still offering helpful advice. But ever since he'd come back he'd been… harsher wasn't quite right, but it was the only thing that Lance could really think of that fit. Perfectionist, maybe too?
He pushed and shouted and while it wasn't negative the, "Come on, Lance! Pick up the pace!" wasn't exactly encouraging either. Lance didn't do well with negative feedback, a fact the Garrison had never seemed to understand for any of its students. He hit all of the targets dead-center in the shooting section without missing a one and that had pulled a "Great job, Lance!" that he craved and he used that to bolster him through the rest of the course.
By the time they'd finished the second run Lance was a collapsed pile on the ground and wondering how they were supposed to do this four more times. And twice with Lotor. He glanced over to where the prince and princess were finishing up their last obstacle – the climbing wall – and both had matching grins of triumph as they cleared it with the final best time of the group.
"Five minute break," Shiro called out as they came down. "Hydrate, stretch and then we're going again. Hunk, you're with Lotor, Pidge with Lance and Allura with me."
So Lotor was saved for last for him then. Lance didn't know if that was good or bad; he almost just wanted to get it over with. Then again, the longer he could stall the better too.
"Oh man," Hunk moaned, sliding to sit with Lance against the wall he'd chosen to lean his head back against. "Lotor."
"Yeah," Lance mustered up a weak grin. "Not looking forward to it either."
"I have never been so grateful to be labeled short-range," Pidge slumped in front of them, draining the rest of her water pouch in one go.
"Wanna switch?" Lance asked, offering Pidge his bayard, not really joking, but she laughed and leaned back on her elbows.
"Such a generous offer, but no. I'm good. And you'll be fine. How bad can it be?"
Lance really, really didn't want to find out.
He at least got to have fun with Pidge before his turn with Lotor. And Pidge very nearly took his mind off the impending problem with her antics as the two of them raced through the obstacle course, which had changed slightly from the first round so they didn't get too complacent.
They made a good team, Lance thought as he took out the drones coming in from above and Pidge deftly handled the ones from the ground, moving about one another with a practiced ease in the combat section.
Their score reflected as such, their two-round average just a couple points behind Shiro and Allura's and honestly, Lance wasn't sure anyone could beat the those two powerhouses working together. He wished he got to team up with Allura.
But no, his gaze cut over to where Lotor was exiting the course, Hunk stumbling from behind and sweat plastering his bangs to his face although Lotor's hair was as impeccable as other, he had to work with Lotor.
Hunk made his way over to where Lance was (Pidge had escaped for a bathroom break) and he offered the larger boy a water pouch that was drained in three seconds and then another.
"How was it?" Lance asked, hoping his hesitance didn't show through for the reasons he feared it did. But Hunk was too tired to notice and merely flopped his hand where it had fallen next to him as he spread out on the ground.
"Hard," Hunk managed. "But… but not… the worst…"
Did Lance dare hope for the same?
He already knew the answer.
"Did… did he say anything to you?" Lance hedged.
Hunk raised a thick eyebrow as his chest continued to heave under his armor. "Other than… about… training?"
Lance chose his words carefully. "Like, trying to be… friendly?"
Hunk shook his head before letting it fall back onto the ground. "No, man. Just… just training and tactics and stuff." Hunk looked a tad alarmed then. "Why? Should I have been doing that? I mean, I don't really want to be Lotor's friend and I don't think he wants to be mine but—"
"No, no," Lance cut in before Hunk could work himself into a panic. "I was just wondering."
Hunk's expression turned a tad sharper, the look he got when faced with a problem he wasn't sure how to solve and Lance tried not to stiffen because as soon as Hunk started asking questions then—
"All right, last group up," Shiro called out, not sounding winded at all. Lance was both awed and envious and so grateful for Shiro's timing.
Even if that meant now he had to be partnered with Lotor.
On second thought, he was fine letting Hunk's big beautiful mind ask questions. Anything to put this off for another minute.
"You okay?" Hunk asked quietly and Lance startled. He hadn't realized he'd been sitting and staring.
"Yeah, just tired," Lance said with a tight grin. "Can't wait for this to be over. A hot shower is calling my name."
At that Hunk chuckled. "Agreed."
Pidge was strolling over to them then, spring to her step.
"What's got you so happy?" Hunk groaned.
"Girl power is going to trounce all of you," she grinned. "Allura and I are going to lay you guys out flat."
"Nu uh," Hunk protested. "Shiro and I are going to win." He flexed an arm. "All the muscle, right here."
"Bet you and Prince Jerkface can't beat us," Pidge taunted, turning to Lance.
Normally such a challenge would get Lance moving, energy returned to exhausted limbs. But all he managed was a thin smile and a tiny shrug of his shoulders. Pidge cocked her head, no doubt expecting at least for Lance to complain about his new teammate, and he floundered to say something—
"Places, Paladins!" Shiro bellowed and Lance both again thanked and cursed Shiro for his timing. He gave off a sloppy salute to his Garrison team and hurried over to where Lotor was waiting at their starting point by the running track.
Lotor inclined his head as Lance joined him, staring pointedly at the course and not the Galran, who came to stand next to him. It took all Lance had not to shift further away. No reaction. No reaction.
"I look very much forward to working with you, Lance." A gloved hand reached out and lighted upon Lance's shoulder, a grip that he could feel even through his armor and despite himself Lance ducked out from beneath it, heart beating faster than it should as Lotor trailed his fingers down his retreating arm.
"Don't touch me," he warned, voice pitched as low as possible to try and maintain some semblance of control above his spiraling heart rate.
Lotor only smiled.
"Start!" Coran called and the two entered the course, Lance a step ahead of the prince and hoping to keep it that way.
They got through the track without issue, Lance going over the hurdles and eating up the lane as fast as he could and maintaining a healthy distance between himself and the prince. He was turning the team-building exercise into more of a race against his partner than anything, but Lance didn't care. He did not want Lotor near him.
He wasn't as successful as he'd like. Too many of the obstacles required them to remain in close proximity and Lotor seemed to be taking advantage of that. His hands had twice brushed against his arm, once on his lower back and his foot had almost languidly caressed Lance's calf when he'd been caught up in the rope section and hadn't been able to pull back.
Lance hated it.
He also was at a loss of what to do.
He'd hissed at Lotor twice more to stop it but all he'd gotten for his words were more smiles and one chuckle of amusement. Lotor didn't listen to him. And short of yelling for Shiro or Allura that Lotor was… what, touching him? he was out of ideas on how to get him to stop.
But he'd die of embarrassment before he called their attention to Lotor's 'attentions.' This was a game and he was going to win.
Somehow.
No reaction. He chanted it at himself. Don't give Lotor the satisfaction of seeing how uncomfortable he was. He'd stop then.
He bit his tongue when Lotor did it again, fingers lightly touching on the back of his hand when they both went for the same hold on the climbing wall and it turned into a squeeze.
Lance only pulled his hand away and said nothing even as his stomach twisted.
Don't react.
Breathe. Ignore.
Almost done.
The last section this time around was the combat one, although it had from the previous times; the land droids were popping like gophers out of the ground and the aerial ones set further back. Lance allowed himself a tiny grin. This was a sniper's forte and Lotor was firmly caught dealing with the ground droids.
He could at least allow himself to enjoy this bit of it, right? Maybe even knock Allura and Pidge back as there was no way the two of them were going to have an easy time with this section. Even Hunk would be laying down wide cover and hoping to hit them and it would take a while as the droids were moving quick and opening and closing around the target mark.
He checked over his shoulder but Lotor was swiping away at the droids, actually looking a bit flustered at the sheer amount that kept popping up with little beeps and Lance turned his back on him. Good.
He changed his bayard to the sniper rifle and set about resting it on one of the fake stone ledges that dotted the landscape and positioning himself behind it.
And go.
Each perfect shot sent a warm feeling of pride bursting in his chest, the droids crashing to the ground with satisfying thumps.
He lined up his tenth shot, the final one, letting out a soft exhale. His finger went to squeeze the trigger…
And the shot went wide as a pair of hands descended on either side of his hips and he jerked the bayard.
A heavy chest was pressing against his back then, holding him pinned against the rock shelf and the hands were rubbing thumbs up and down his sides. Lance's heart leapt into his throat.
"You have impeccable aim," Lotor breathed, breath ghosting on the shell of Lance's ear.
"Get off me," Lance growled, trying to shift but Lotor only leaned forward more and his weight and size were too much to shove off.
"Truly," Lotor continued, and Lance could feel fangs nearly nipping his ear. "You are something special."
One of Lotor's hand shifted then, moving to Lance's front and his fingers splayed across Lance's taut but churning stomach, nothing to block it save for the skintight undersuit.
Lance thought he might be sick.
"Stop," he whispered, barely audible. Lotor's other hand caressed his hip. "L-Lotor, stop."
To his surprise and relief Lotor withdrew, stepping back and Lance forced trembling legs to his full height and turned and stepped away from the rock, leaving him with his back exposed but with an entire field in which to move about.
Lotor stood there, hands innocently by his sides and raised an eyebrow. "You do not appreciate the compliment?"
Is that what that had been? Lance's hands were shaking, so hard his bayard was clattering against his armored thigh and it morphed back to its standard form. The remaining drone continued to circle above.
There was no more pretending. He couldn't ignore Lotor, ignore whatever this was.
Lotor took a step forward and Lance hated how he immediately took one back and hated more how Lotor's sharp smile widened. He found himself unable to look away from Lotor's yellow and purple gaze, freezing him in place.
Without breaking eye contact Lotor lifted his sword and Lance saw in his peripheral the blade jam into the air, spearing the last droid that had floated lower and lower as the time ticked by.
"Ten out of ten," Lotor murmured, looking to the sword then and Lance heaved out a gasp, the spell broken. "It was a pleasure, Lance." He swept an arm towards the exit of the course. "Shall we see how we fare in round two?"
Without waiting for an answer he moved towards it, hair flying like a banner behind him. Lance swallowed thickly and forced leaden feet to follow. He kept his lips pressed into a thin line as if he opened them he wasn't sure what would spill out, the bitter taste of acid on his tongue.
"Lance!" Hunk exclaimed, having been waiting for him. "Lance?" he repeated, more of an inquiry now and concern crossing his features. "Hermano, you don't look good."
Lance certainly didn't feel good. He could feel cold sweat that had nothing to do with the workout coating his skin and of course the turning stomach.
"What happened?" Shiro frowned, glancing from Lance to Lotor.
Lance just weakly shook his head. He couldn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Lotor would twist it, just as he had been doing this entire time, turning sincere actions into something darker, distorted.
"I am not certain," Lotor chimed in, accented voice tinged with confusion. "He was fine until just a few moments ago."
"Lance, can you continue the course?" Shiro asked, voice slightly softer.
Lance knew he should say yes. He had to say yes. He had to prove his worth, show Shiro he did make a good Red Paladin, a good right-hand.
But his body had other ideas and he found himself shaking his head in the negative before he could stop himself.
He had to get away.
He had to get away now.
"All right," Shiro nodded and Lance looked away before he could see the disappointment flashing in those grey eyes. "You did good today, Lance. Make sure you take care of yourself, got it?"
Lance managed a nod, Shiro's praise not even enough to blanket the sickness continue to swirl within him.
"Lance," Hunk murmured but Lance shook his head weakly and jerked it at Shiro. Stay. He was fine.
Not really. But he was fine.
"See you on the bridge later?" Hunk asked instead and Lance nodded to that. No matter what he would be there for Pidge, for whatever the mission revealed. "Okay. Um, feel better?"
Lance nodded again and, feeling Lotor's eyes tracing his form, he made his escape from the training room.
Tears stung his eyes as he made it into the hall.
Escape.
He was running away. Running from Lotor. From his words, his touches, his piercing eyes.
Lance barely made it to the toilet before he threw up his meager breakfast.
He let out a sob over it, hands trembling on the cool rim.
Lotor was right.
He did not deserve to be a Paladin.
It really was only a matter of time.
And his was almost out.
Author's Notes:
Dun dun dunnnnn. Oh Lance, pobre chico. No soy amable contigo. Lo siento (pero no realmente) xD Anyways, Lotor continues his little game and Lance finds out he is really just not very good at not playing it. Also, hehhh, have a little bit of my own personal experience with a stalker sprinkled in some of the events here so that creepy hair-rising feeling of dread? I gotcha.
Thanks very much to everyone who leave a review last chapter. I really appreciate it! Enjoying the fic? Please drop a comment below and give the author some love. I'd love to hear your overall impression, a part that jumped out, a piece of dialogue... the small details make my day!
