Chapter 3: Midnight Run

Lance was drifting in and out of consciousness, memories fluttered around in his brain like those moths that used to crowd around his lamp in those early nights back in Cuba. He tried as hard as he could to pull everything together, but things just kept coming loose. He knew very little of what happened. But he did remember some things.

Lance remembered how one of the Galra had seen Pidge, running towards her Lion, so small and caught up in the vacuum that there was no possible way she could dodge the blast. He remembered how the Galra had aimed his weapon at Pidge, and fired a beam of purple light. That's when time seemed to slow down. "PIDGE!" He leapt towards her, surrounding her tiny body in his own large one. He felt the blast hit his back and send him flying. He tried to let go of Pidge, but his natural instincts to protect his friends had taken over, and letting go was harder than he thought.

His back felt swollen, painful, and...wrong. He felt his heartbeat falter, felt the agonizing and burning pain of being unable to breath. He knew what this was, he had read about it with Marie. He was going into shock. He tried his best to pull out of it, but he felt a strong tug on his stomach, and found himself flung out into space.

Everything from there on was a blur, a flash. He felt the familiar shaking of a panic attack and reacted almost instinctively. He remembered Pidge being worried. He remembered feeling a deep pain in his guts, and a sharp pain in his ribs. He remembered seeing Pidge's ankle, looking mangled and grotesque. He remembered trying to help Pidge, he remembered feeling homesick. He knew he had been babbling on and on about something to Pidge, but what, he couldn't remember. He felt his mouth change form and pitch when he switched to his native language of Spanish, back and forth.

Back and forth. Back and forth. When he finally regained full consciousness, he was surprised to find the sky black as night. He looked around, and saw Pidge, bayard at the ready, standing between him and some strange creatures. They seemed to blend in with the night, their position only revealed by their glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Ugh. Couldn't life just grant him a break every once and awhile?

Painfully, he reached over to his side and pulled out his own bayard, the end of his newly formed shotgun gleaming with a brilliant blue light. Green, blue, yellow. Lance began charging his weapon, and it grew brighter. At the sudden bright light, the creatures hissed. They backed away, hiding in the shadows, biding their time. Pidge turned to face Lance. Her face was covered in cuts and black dirt, with skin showing in clear patterns of a tear stained wreck.

"Lance." That's all she said. Lance just nodded, he didn't want to feel more pain than he already in, and about to gain with his next word.

"Run." He pulled himself up, almost passing out again at the wave of pain, but he held his bayard high in one hand, and grabbed Pidge's wrist, pulling her far away from the creatures, who only came as close as the darkness would allow them. Moving was a pain. He couldn't breathe clearly, and his hands felt cold and numb. Pure adrenaline was what kept him going.

They raced out of the dense forest and into a clearing, where a silvery glowing pool sat, serene and inviting in the distance. Light. It gave off light, something these creatures appeared to hate. Just a little bit farther. Lance tripped and went toppling forward, but Pidge caught him and steadied him. She apparently had had the same revelation as him, and was now helping bear most of his weight as she pushed them the final few feet to the pools edge. Sfe at last. The pools simple glow kept the creatures at bay. Surmising that Pidge could take care of herself now, Lance allowed the darkness to pull him into it's sick embrace.

Nightmare moved by too quickly for Lance to actually understand any of them. Broken and dead Paladins, an Altean funeral, family members, lost, broken, hurt, dead, captured, turned, gone. Now, Lance stood alone in the darkness. No walls, no doors, no roof, nothing. Lance collapsed onto his knees, cradling his head in his hands, Lance cried silently. Then a voice. It felt warm and caring, it felt cool and confident, it felt free and contained, happy and wistful, and all sorts of opposites. In other words, it felt...blue.

"My Paladin, don't give in, help is coming, just stay safe for a few more days, please."

"Blue?" Asked Lance, "Is that you?" The invisible presence began to fade away, leaving the darkness to have it's way with Lance, "Come back!" He cried, "Please!"

"Just a little longer, young one."

The darkness grew and grew, enveloping Lance in its empty torture for all eternity.

Lance awoke with a start, the burning red sun had begun to make its way up into the sky, and Pidge sat, criss-crossed by the lake, staring at her reflection in the water.

"Well well well, Who'd've thought, Pidgey has a Narcissus complex." Pidge jumped at the sound of Lance's voice,\ and turned to him. She wiped under her nose with her arm, and put on scowl. But not good enough, Lance could see her trying to hide her smile.

"What the heck do you mean? If anyone has a Narcissus complex it's you." Lance waved her comment away.

"Psh, naw, I always identified more with Echo, always trying to win herself a man and failing. Although in my case, I'm always trying to win myself a woman, but for some unknown reason, they all rebuke this wonderful charm and beauty." Pidge snorted, then smiled at him.

"I'm glad you're feeling good enough to joke, brat." Lance pretended to look bashful.

"Aw, Pi-iii-dge, I didn't know you cared!"

"I don't"

"Eh, a boy can dream." The sun was shining, Lance was making jokes, Pidge was being sarcastic, and they had survived the night. Life seemed, in its own maniacal way, good again. Of course, Life hated Lance and wouldn't ever give him a break. The moment shattered like glass as Lance began coughing hard again. His chest ached and breathing became impossible. Lance glanced down at his hands and saw them shaking against his will.

"Lance?" Pidge crawled closer and placed her hand on his head. She pulled back quickly. "You're burning up, Lance, listen, I-" She swallowed, "I really don't know much about first aid, and it's really stupid that I have to do this and ask you what you think is going on, so just, uh, please breath Lance, please." Her voice sounded shaky and weak. Lance grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly, concentrating on his breathing. When he was finally able to draw in a semi-better breath, Lance tried speaking.

"Probs' Pneumonia." He wheezed, "Not really bad, not great." However, it appeared his words of 'Comfort' failed drastically. Pidge went as white as a ghost. "Pidge?" He asked weakly.

"Pn-Pneumonia?" Lance nodded, confused, he thought he'd cleared that up, but Pidge just seemed as frightened as before, if not more so.

"I'll be fine Pidge, don't worry." All the color returned to Pidge's face, mixing into an angry red and purple.

"Fine? Fine?!" She sounded hysterical, "Lance, I had a cousin who died of pneumonia, are you telling me you're gonna die too?!" Pidge started panting, she had a tight fist pressing down on the left side of her chest. Lance quickly pulled Pidge into a loose hug, even the light pressure causing him pain. He began smoothing down her tangled hair, trying his hardest to breath in the same calming rhythm he knew Pidge needed.

"Shh, you're okay, just breath with me Pidge, in, out, in, out. Good." Pidge's frantic panting turned into choked sobs, then faded into deep breaths."Just relax, I'm not gonna die, we're gonna make it home before you know it, and the whole gang will be there. Safe, and, sound."

They would be ok, they had each other. Lance promised himself he wouldn't let Pidge give up. Ever. He would make sure she made it out of here alive and well. Then she could go back to toying with Galra tech and making sarcastic comments here and there. He would be her support.

Unfortunately, Lance had no idea just how much support he was going to need in the next few days.