(I don't own Voltron or Supernatural.)

I woke up in the dark again. Back in the cell. Mouth still sewn and eyes still covered. The dull ache of hunger that had lingered within me yesterday had turned into a sharp spike.

The metabolism of a Trickster. Such was the price I had paid to be Loki.

A groan eased through the metal threads that kept my mouth sewed shut.

Gabriel?

I'm here.

You went so quiet...

Right. Lance had been connected to nothing. He wouldn't have been affected by the tranquilizer. The thought of the young human, alone and afraid and no way to have any idea what was going on around and to him, was not a good thought. I sent a pulse of comfort and connected him to the senses, excluding pain, of course.

I'm sorry. Haggar must have had them tranq me when she realized I wasn't going to kill that alien.

Oh.

Lance went silent for a long moment.

What happened with the alien?

I healed him. And then I healed the wounds to myself. He, or she, whatever, they're fine.

I moved my hand, feeling along the bare skin of my chest. I located a jagged scar that ran like a lightning bolt across my vessel's chest Lance would not be pleased.

I'm bored.

Same.

No. I mean, I am, like, so bored. I literally can't do anything.

Me neither.

You have my body, so I don't want to hear it.

...um...

I DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY! Lance screeched, the sound echoing through my head, I mean-

I understand what you're trying to say, kid. But if I see somebody pretty enough, I can't make any promises.

...

A rumble of laughter echoed in my chest.

I'm kidding.

Oh, uh, good. Okay. Okay, um..

Trust me. If I had the choice, I would be back in my old vessel in an instant. You're a bit taller than I'm used to.

Right, but the wards mean you can't.

Exactly.

I heard it, then.

The wall was opening again.

Was that all my life would be now?

Endless battles? Endless fights?

Father, I am so hungry. So tired. Tired of this darkness. Tired of the laughter of dwarves that echoed in my ears every single time moving my mouth even the tiniest bit pulled painfully at the metal thread.

The audience was near silent. They weren't cheering, too eager to see what I would do this time, too focused on me.

My stomach churned.

Focus.

I'm focusing, I'm focusing.

Yeah; on food.

Tricksters should be eating truckloads of candy, not going days on end without it.

Look, I get it. You're hungry. But this might be the only chance we get at escaping. You don't need to breath or anything. You should be able to just fly right out even without a pod. We just have to get out of this ship.

I know. I wasn't born yesterday. But Haggar clipped my wings, remember?

We can still take a ship.

I stepped forward, and suddenly realized why the crowd was silent.

There was no crowd.

There was no arena.

Instead of dirt, my feet met with something cold. Metal. I was on the other side of the cell. I could hear the heartbeats, sense the essence of the celestial metal used for angel blades bouncing around in the power cores of the laser guns. Wow. Laser guns. Seemed like I was in a sci-fi movie. Or one of those action packed cartoon shows that used laser guns instead of guns because then they wouldn't be able to keep it as a kid show. I felt something close tightly around my wrists. Some sort of cuffs, my wrists yanking together as soon as they were latched on.

"Walk," a voice grunted, a clawed hand digging into my shoulder as I was shoved forward. The owner of said hand quickly withdrew, but I had already sensed his fear through the skin contact. He was quite good at keeping the waver from his voice, though I could tell he was terrified.

I wonder if they drew straws and these two got the short ones.

Lance laughed, do you think the two Galra peed themselves when they found out that they were the ones who had to get you?

My body shook as I laughed, an amused chuckle-like hum escaping me. I could hear the Galra shudder at my laugh.

"Walk," a harsher jab this time.

I walked forward, holding my head high; even trapped like this, even with my sight and voice taken, even dirty and chained, I was an Archangel. I would not give them the satisfaction of thinking they were in control. I walked smoothly, as if I was simply out for a stroll.

Lance chattered nervously in our head, but my mind wandered to thoughts of a dessert table, my mouth watering at the idea.

-and so we defeated Zarkon, right? Yeah, but- and I'm not sure what happened, but all of a sudden I wasn't in my Lion anymore. I think he was trying to get Shiro, but I kicked him with Blue and I think he accidentally took me instead- next thing you know, I wake up on a table covered in purple tattoos and it really really hurts -and, oh God, my mom is so going to kill me, she's going to see the tattoos and whip out la chancla- so the next thing I know after that, bing-bang, I'm possessed!

Mm-hm.

Encouraged by the belief I was paying attention, he kept on talking. He moved from complaining about being possessed and stuck on a Galra ship to talking about his family. I spared some attention to his talking, but Lance silenced when the butt of the gun of one of the two Galra escorting me was jammed into my back. I would have given them a dirty look, but my eyes were still covered.

"Stop."

There was a beep as some sort of panel was activated, then a hiss as what must be a door opened.

"Walk."

The smell of blood reached my nose. I could sense tattered Grace sticking to the walls.

I really, really, really don't want to go in there, Gabriel.

I know, kid, but we don't have much of a choice.

I walked forward without hesitation, lifting my head even higher. I would not show fear. I was NOT afraid. I am Gabriel. I am an Archangel.

I will not be afraid.

I stepped over the Grace signature of a wing imprint burned into the ground.

I'm scared.

Me too.

"Lead him over here."

Haggar, Lance tried to growl, but I could feel his fear.

I was shoved and so I took a few grudging steps forward.

"Connect the cuffs to the hook."

The two Galra yanked my wrists forward. The click and zap of the odd, binding current connecting to the 'hook' sounded like a death sentence.

"Unfurl your wings."

Right. She could see them. But the Galra couldn't.

I didn't even want to think about how bad my wings must look. I could feel the out of place feathers, the dirt sticking to them. I kept them pinned tightly against my back.

Some sort of electricity shot out of the hook and through my wrists. I spasmed, feeling like my Grace was being ripped apart. My wings fluttered behind me, twitching as I writhed.

GABRIEL! Lance screamed.

It ceased, leaving my wings drooping and I limp, held up only by the hook my wrists were connected to.

Lance?

I got only a whimper in response. The current must have done more damage to him than it had done to my Grace.

"You're not the only one who will suffer should you refuse me," Haggar spoke, "unfurl your wings."

I'm good, Lance grunted, I'm okay, I'm good. You don't have to listen to her just for me.

You're only a child, I told him. I spread my wings out. The room I was in was large enough that I managed to get my wings stretched out far enough that they were fully open, with the wingtips just barely brushing against the far sides of the room.

"Visible to all," she demanded.

Gabriel, you don't have to-

I let the uncomfortable warmth of visibility flow through my wings, ignoring the gasp of amazement that rose from the two Galra soldiers. I hoped she wouldn't demand for me to keep them visible for too long, considering that I knew the warmth would soon become an unbearable burning feeling.

"Amazing," Haggar let out a sigh of astonishment, and I flinched away when I felt her run her hand over the smooth feathers, "I could sense them, see them faintly, but now they are as clear as a Krepit's wings. And so.. so golden."

Ugh. It's been forever since anybody's touched my wings. It's weird. I don't like it. Especially when it's Haggar. Those are my wings. You don't just TOUCH an archangel's wings.

Can't say I feel ya. I don't have wings.

I peeked quickly into some of his memories to help me find the best example that he would understand.

Imagine that you're just minding your own business when all of a sudden Zarkon grabs your ass.

Lance screamed and instantly retreated.

Wait, no! Come back!

Lance just shrieked at me, I'm traumatized! Scarred!

Haggar scanned my wings carefully, making sure that the feathers required for flight were still trimmed enough to keep me grounded. Satisfied, she soon ordered for me to be returned to my cell.

I kept my head held high.

I am an Archangel, I am a Trickster, and they will regret what they have done.

I'm sick of the dark.

I didn't respond, vessel trembling. My hands shook. Incoherent hums and growls the only thing I had to say, the only thing I could utter aloud through my sewn shut mouth.

How long has it been? Do you think they're worried about me?

I scratched at the wall in front of me, my wings cramped behind me, squashed in the tiny space.

I want to go home.

I slammed my fists against the wall in front of me. My stomach felt like it was ripping itself apart. I wasn't used to hunger. Hungry. I need sugar, something, anything. My Trickster metabolism moved too fast. I wished I wasn't Trickster enough to need food.

Gabriel?

I blinked, eyelashes brushing against the metal that covered my eyes; but I'm used to it by now.

Are you still here? Can you link me back in? I can't hear. I can't see. I can't feel.

I didn't respond.

Please, Gabriel! I'm going crazy in here! Talk to me! Link me in! Do anything!

I stayed silent, too focused on escaping and finding sugar to care. I could feel my Trickster half slipping away, and I clung to it, refusing to be left unwhole. It was the only power I had left, with my Grace locked within me. I had given up half of myself to become Loki, and I would not let my other half slip away.

Lance sobbed. Scared. Alone. Terrified. I could feel his emotions, but my muddled thoughts entwined them with my own.

Gabriel, I'm sick of the dark.

When I didn't respond, Lance set to work himself. Slowly, he practiced, striving to be able to connect to the senses by himself.

Days blended together. We're days even passing? Everything melted together like crayons left on hot pavement. The more times my feet touched the ground of the arena, the more Trickster I was when I was finally taken out of it, growling and hissing.

Everything became confusing the longer time wore on, the longer the marks on my skin seeped deeper and deeper into my Grace.

Was I Lance, or was Lance the soul nestled in my Grace? We were separate, but we were one. There were times of coherency, where one of us managed to pull apart, rose to the surface, but everything melted and we, too, were melting together, burning.

Were we Lance or Gabriel?

Or was there only the Trickster?

The only thing that made sense was the hunger.

I didn't step out so much as collapsed out of the tiny cell. I flopped to the ground like a rag doll, too hungry and exhausted to move. But it wasn't dirt. The ground was cold.

Metal.

And yet I sensed no Galra.

"Be careful! That is a Paladin of Voltron that you are being so careless with!" somebody hissed to another and I felt warm arms scoop me up. I felt feathers and instinctively curled up so that I would be easier to hold. Memories of being cradled by my brothers as a fledgling surfaced in my mind and a hazy, incoherent part of my brain leaped to the conclusion that this must be one of my older brothers, come to finally save me and take me home, and treat me as family again.

"Are you sure this is the Blue Paladin?" a deep voice, somewhat garbled, asked, a rumble through the chest of the one who carried me, "I saw him in passing once, and this... this looks nothing like him."

The one who had yelled let out a sigh, "the Galra are not kind, my friend. Speaking of which, we must hurry. The other prisoners are rising up as well, but Gradvah only knows how much time we have before the Galra manage to gain back control. We must make our way, quickly, and meet back up with the others."

A grunt from the one who carried me, "I'll need you to watch my back, then, Radvar."

"Just don't drop the child, Griff."

A deep, guttural laugh, and I could feel the rumble of it through the Alien's scaly chest, "no Aline would ever be so careless."

Gabriel... Lance sounded faded. Tired. But he fought to the surface, pulling apart, fighting apart from me even when the marks on our skin burned and tried to shove him back down into my Grace, into oneness. Gabriel...

I said nothing, and he sunk back down into the depths.

"And wherever do you two think you're going?" a smooth voice asked.

I recognized it, though at the time it had been a scream for Haggar, to make the pain of my voice stop.

Lotor.

Griff cursed, tightening his hold on me.

"Go," Radvar ordered, "you're fast, you can make it. I'll hold him off."

"If you think I'm leaving you, then you have new thing coming!"

It's 'another thing coming' not 'new thing coming' Lance whined.

I struggled, writhing. The Aline alien was forced to put me down and I leaped to my feet the instant I was on the floor. I put myself in front of the two who had attempted to rescue me and motioned for them to go without me. Not leaving any room for argument, I leaped forward. Lotor obviously hadn't been expecting me to actually have the needed trajectory, because I took him to the ground.

"We must go!"

"We can't leave the Blue Paladin! We need Voltron!"

The two stayed stubbornly put, arguing tirelessly about whether they should run or stay. I thought I had made it clear that I wanted them to go, but mortals are stupid.

Heeeey.

"Stronger than you look," Lotor grunted, and I could sense his amusement through the skin contact, "but this is not a fair fight, Paladin. How could I fight someone who cannot even see me?"

He thrust upwards, sending my lighter form flying.

"And yet I must. A pity, really. I'll have to convince Haggar to get that metal off your eyes and pit you against me in the arena so that we may have a fair fight."

Fair fight, my ass. For what you and your group have done, I'll kick your ass into next week.

Heck yeah! I'm going to have to remember that one!

I let the warmth go through my wings then bitchslapped Lotor with all three of the left side wings. There was no mercy. I felt his shock at the sight of my wings when my wings made contact, and then heard the thud his body made when it hit the wall; there was a second thud as his limp form hit the ground, but I could still hear his heartbeat. He was unconscious.

I stood on shaking feet and let the warmth leave my wings, sending them back to invisible and intangible to mortals.

"By Gradvah," Radvar let out a shaky breath and I felt Griff's warm arms scoop me back up.

"Radvar!"

"By Gradvah," Radvar repeated.

"Radvar, the path is clear! The Blue Paladin has granted us opportunity! Now, Radvar!"

It seemed to snap the other out of it. Together, with Griff holding me to his chest so tightly it might have been painful had I been human, the two raced down the halls.

"Radvar! Griff!" a new voice pierced the silence a couple minutes later, one whose voice practically dripped with relief, "you're still alive! When Kripleshto said that she saw Lotor heading the way you two had gone..."

"Blue Paladin knocked him out," Griff told the new voice and clacked his beak, "but Lotor may not be out for long. We must all go now, Rejeud, while we still can."

"You're right," Rejeud agreed, "but we must hurry. Here, I can take him."

Lance was doing the mental equivalent of bouncing off the walls. It made it hard to concentrate, so when I felt my vessel being handed over, I didn't quite know what was going on. I flung my hands out and clung to Griff, one of the only two allies that I was currently sure of.

Griff let out a chuckle and I calmed at the rumble vibrating through his chest, "it seems I shall bare the child a moment longer."

Satisfied that I had cemented my mode of transportation, I didn't even feel irritated when Griff resumed running.

Even with Lance practically throwing a party in my head, I was pretty out of it from being so hungry. I didn't even stir until something pulled at the metal on my face and I realized I had been moved from Griff's arms to some sort of cushy bed.

I let a growl rumble through my shut mouth, striking out, but whoever had touched the metal mask must have leaped away when they had noticed me tense up.

"Calm yourself, Paladin," a warm, feminine voice told me, a soft hand brushing gently against my forehead, wiping the dirty, sweat-soaked hair away from my face, "you are safe now, little one."

Lance softened immediately, but he wasn't the one in charge of the vessel. I flinched away from the touch immediately. When was the last time anybody had ever had any intention except to hurt me? Years? Centuries? Millennia? I waited for the moment that that benevolent gesture turned malicious, but it never came. Instead, the hand quickly retreated.

"The damage done may be unfixable," the voice sighed, "I had hoped for a different outcome, but it seems he has not come out of his ordeal unscathed in both mind and body. For the Galra to do such a thing to an innocent child.. the Galra truly are monsters"

"They fought him in the arena. Malleki says that the boy was a formidable, terrifying foe, even without his sight and left only with his weak human senses... he fought many times, but what he did to survive his second fight will be remembered within the minds of hundreds for centuries. I hear that he is even more well known now than the Champion, himself. The mere child who ripped out his guts just to survive, yet showed mercy towards his opponent even after going to such extreme measures."

YOU QUIZNAKING WHAT!?

Yes, mercy. I showed mercy. What do you take me for? A barbarian!?

I WAS TALKING ABOUT RIPPING OUT MY GUTS!

I assure you that it was quite badass. And it doesn't matter anymore.

And why would that be!?

Because we're free.

Exhausted, I let myself sink.

Seperated for but a moment, we sunk back into one.