Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron!

Chapter 4

"Can we…let's look into get some moving walkways or something," Lance suggested, "I think it'd be totally worth it."

"While we're at it, we could just install teleporters," Shiro said wryly. Lance wasn't sure, but he thought Shiro was trying to keep him talking. Or distract him. "Then we could just teleport from one side of the ship to the other."

"Wormholes. We use—" Lance winced, his foot catching on the floor and halting the others for a moment. The pain never stopped anymore, but sometimes it hurt a little less. "Wait…" With a nod, he started walking again, trembling from the stupid amount of effort this was taking. "Um…we could have wormholes. In the hangar bays. Can Allura do that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lance," Coran said, taking the conversation seriously, "There's no such thing as small-scale teleportation that I know of, and even if there was, we can't very well be popping wormholes into the ship's structure all willy-nilly."

"We're almost there," Shiro said to Lance, "You're sure you don't—"

"Pick me up and I'll barf on you."

"You could just say no."

"All the barf, Shiro."

Every step sent razor sharp pains through his side, even with Shiro and Coran supporting him, but it was better than Shiro trying to carry him. Even with his hazy brain, Lance knew he didn't want Shiro tossing him over his shoulder fireman-style and hauling him to the infirmary. That was fine when you were unconscious or bleeding out, but not when you could move on your own. Also, his stomach would probably explode if he was jostled around that much. Just saying.

Shiro looked at him, those sculpted eyebrows of his coming together. "So you are nauseous."

"And your eyebrows are very impressive."

Shiro shook his head as they hobbled into the infirmary, a six-legged monster. "You have to be honest with us, got it? It's important."

"He's right," Coran said, tutting softly, "Only with all the proper knowledge can we truly assess this situation. So try not to hold anything back."

"Okay. So, this one time, when I was five, I stole bendy straws from my dad's favorite restaurant. They were…so cool."

Shiro made a face. "If you're coherent enough to joke, you're coherent enough to know what I meant—"

"I felt really guilty about it, but I never told anyone. How's that? So honest."

"Lance!" Shiro broke away, leaving Lance to lean against Coran. Shiro took a few steps forward and held his hand over his mouth for a moment, his back to them. When Shiro turned around, Lance was surprised by the unnerved look in his friend's grey eyes and instantly felt bad about being uncooperative. "We need to figure this out before it gets worse, and to do that, I need you to be a little more serious. I know you're hurting and this is your way of dealing with it, but, look, you're—"

"I'm sort of nauseous."

"Huh?"

"I'm…a little nauseous, I guess," Lance said, "And I'm cold, and my stomach hurts." He looked down at the floor, studying the smooth Altean metals. "It feels like someone borrowed Keith's knife and shoved it into my right side and left it. And then it did that thing where it turns into a stupid sword. I think it's ridiculous that his knife does that." He sniffed, letting his head hang forward. "If I'm being honest."

Something like relief rushed over Shiro's face, but it was mixed with worry. "Okay, we can start there." He slid back under Lance's arm to help him to rest of the way to an exam table.

"How long have you been in pain?" Coran asked.

"I don't know…when was I up again, Shiro?"

"Since at least three this morning," Shiro told Coran.

"Right," Lance said, nodding. He leaned against the exam table, knowing he would have to get on it but not wanting to actually do that just yet. Just standing there and not moving at all was good enough, right? "Coran, Shiro needs to sleep more. We need to fix that."

"I agree, but let's focus on one issue at a time, shall we?" Coran said. He stepped over to the console next to the exam table, the one that ran all the scans and tests and everything. Lance had no idea what any of it said, but they always used it before popping someone into the healing pods. He wouldn't need one of those, would he? Not again, ahh, that would make it his second time going into one, and Keith, Pidge, and Hunk hadn't even been in once. That wouldn't be fair, and the universe wasn't out to get him.

Was it?

Lance dug his fingers into the exam table's padding, feeling the slight give of the material. All right, okay, he could do this, it was dumb to just stand here. He had to accept that it was going to hurt.

"Hold on a moment—" Coran started, but Lance shook his head.

"It's okay, I've got this."

"But if you would—"

Lance hopped up onto the exam table and instantly regretted it. His vision seemed to flash white then darken as pain shot through his side, and a ripple of ice spread out under his skin. Part of him registered that Shiro was talking and gripping his shoulder then helping him lay down, but he felt unanchored from what was going on. There was a panting sound. Oh.

That was him.

"That didn't feel good," he said once he had gotten his breath back.

Coran coughed. "As I was saying, wait until I lower the exam table."

Rule for the future, let Coran finish his sentences. He got to practice listening as Coran asked him a series of questions and entered Lance's answers into the console. It bugged him sometimes that they kept this advanced medical technology to themselves and didn't just take the whole castle back to Earth. Yeah, saving the universe from Zarkon was super important, but they could visit home, show them some cool things about the castle and give them a healing pod to reverse engineer, then go back to space. And then he could see his family and tell them all about being a paladin and how much he missed them.

"It's going to be okay, Lance," Shiro said, patting his arm.

"It's not that…"

"Then what—"

Before Shiro could finish, there was a commotion at the infirmary door. Lance turned his head to the side and propped himself up on his elbows as Hunk and Keith stepped in, followed by Allura and Pidge. Aw man, did everyone have to show up? Embarrassment burned at him almost as much as the pain in his side.

"See, he's really not a zombie, Hunk," Keith said, gesturing toward Lance, "He just resembles one right now."

"I still don't understand this concept of being un-dead," Allura said, "And why would a walking corpse want to eat brains?"

"Because it's what humans are most afraid of losing," Pidge said with a shrug.

Hunk hurried over to the exam table. He gently flicked Lance on the arm and shot him a wavering frown. "Next time just tell us when you're feeling this bad, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Now that the others were here, Lance wanted to sit up and get off the table and act like everything was fine. But he had a feeling that someone would just shove him back down and he would get lectured by at least three or four people.

"All right, Lance, you're going to need to stay still," Coran said.

"Aw, man," mumbled Lance, "I was planning on practicing ballet right now."

"Wait, you know ballet?" Keith asked incredulously.

Lance almost laughed. "Yes, Keith, I know all the ballets. I am the uber ballerina."

"It's prima ballerina," Hunk offered.

"Maybe you can ballet later," Coran said. He strapped some kind of device around Lance's wrist and then stepped back over to the console. The exam table hummed, coming to life to begin its first set of scans. Lance closed his eyes as his skin tingled and a cool sensation rushed over him, starting at his toes and brushing up to his head.

"Why's that lit up red?" Hunk's voice asked.

"That indicates infection or inflammation," Coran said, "But that's such a small bit of tissue. What is that, actually?" Whenever the exam system couldn't label a body part, Coran always ended up asking the paladins, as if they were all anatomy experts. Lance often popped in with the answer to the more obscure parts of anatomy, since he had helped his oldest brother study for medical school. Sometimes Shiro or Keith would know too, Shiro from some field medic class he'd had to take at the Garrison and Keith because he'd gotten in enough fights or crazy situations and seen enough emergency rooms to know those kinds of things. That guy had an impressive list of broken bones, though Lance would never tell him that.

"I don't know…" Hunk said.

Lance glanced over but he ached too much to even make a guess at the red spot on the hologram-esque display. He did catch Coran and Shiro sharing a look and quiet rushed exchange, and then Shiro was moving toward the exam table.

"Hey, Lance? I'm sorry in advance about this, but I'm going to press on your side for a second and I need you to tell me if it hurts worse when I stop. All right?"

Lance shook his head. "Uh, not all right. Why? It's not like it's not going to hurt."

Shiro ran his hand through his hair. "It's a test from field medic training."

He chewed his bottom lip and resigned himself to more pain. "Okay…" He thought he was mentally prepared, but when Shiro pressed down on his side and then suddenly pulled his hands away, Lance cried out. Did his side even exist anymore? Shiro had just mercilessly destroyed it, so he would be shocked if there was anything left.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Shiro said, gripping Lance's arm as he curled up, "I had to check."

"So. Mean."

"I'm really sorry..."

"What do you think is wrong with him? Pidge asked, sounding tense.

"I think that's his appendix," Shiro said. He gestured to the red-tinted part of the hologram and then looked over at Lance, meeting his eyes and that's when Lance really began to feel frightened. Because now Shiro didn't just look worried. He looked scared, and Shiro didn't scare easily. "I'm pretty sure Lance has appendicitis."

Oh. No wonder Shiro looked scared.

He thought Lance was going to die.