TW for this chapter: blindness, kidnapping and implied torture (very, very implied). This is probably the angstiest chapter of the bunch, but the focus is really on the recovery part, so I think we're good.

Also, I was pretty sleepy when I edited this, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Shiro raced past the long, purple-tinted hallway, opening one door after the other. All the cells had been empty so far; some of them had dark stains littering the floor and walls – stains that Shiro preferred not to think what they were or who left them there. No, right now he had one mission to focus on: retrieving the blue paladin safely.

"Did you find anything?" Hunk's strained voice rang through the comms, accompanied by blasting noises and the occasional sizzle of metal being blown into pieces.

"Not yet," Shiro said mid-running, trying to keep his voice calm. "They probably took his armor, because I don't have a heat signature to follow; I'll just have to try all the doors in this section."

"We can't hold them much longer," Keith's voice joined the conversation, and Shiro was almost certain he was talking through gritted teeth. "They just – " there was a momentary pause interrupted by a violent slashing sound - "keep coming."

Shiro's heart raced in a way that had nothing to do with his running. "Hold on a bit longer, please. He has to be here somewhere."

Unless their intel was wrong and Lance has already been moved to different ship. Shiro clenched his fists; no, he couldn't think about it right now. The team was already devastated ever since Lance has been captured; hearing they'd come all the way here just to lose him again would absolutely destroythem. He had to think positive. Lance was here. They were going to bring him back home.

With this thought in mind he reached the last door at the hallway and slammed it open.

A familiar figure was sitting at the far corner of the cell, head buried between his knees, which were pulled tightly against his chest. At the sound of the door opening his head shot up and a pair of blue, terrified eyes stared at Shiro's direction, darting here and there as if was having a hard time focusing.

"Lance," Shiro barely managed to say, taking in the sight of the younger boy. The grey-and-purple prisoner outfit he was wearing was tattered and torn in several places, but other than that, he looked whole – Shiro wasn't even aware he was looking for a prosthetic limb until he heard himself releasing a long breath of relief as he realized Lance still had all his arms and legs intact. His face, however, didn't look too good: the usually tanned skin was ashen and lifeless, although his cheeks were painted dark pink, indicating a possible fever. But the worst part was his eyes: everything about them just seemed wrong. They were abnormally pale and framed by dark circles, but despite the utter exhaustion reflecting in them they kept darting in all directions, never focusing on anything.

What did the Galra do?

"Lance," Shiro repeated, louder this time. He rushed forward and knelt beside the blue paladin, placing a gentle palm on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Lance flinched at the touch, scooting backwards to lean against the wall. He blinked several times as if trying to see Shiro better. "Sh-shiro?" he croaked through white lips, voice uncertain. "Is that really you?"

Shiro frowned. Was Lance not able to see him? The cell was dimly lit, but not completely dark; it was more than enough for Shiro to make out Lance's features. Maybe the exhaustion and fever prevented him from thinking straight? Or did he think it was just the Galra playing tricks on his mind again? Shiro felt a wave of nausea at the last thought. He hoped with all his might things hadn't come to this type of torture. Lance had been held captive for barely two quintents, but the cruelty of the Galra knew no limits and they were capable of causing enough damage even in such a short period of time.

He took a composing breath. "Yes, it's me," he said, this time placing both hands above Lance's knee so the boy could feel his human as well as his prosthetic one. Lance's breath hitched, but he didn't shy away from the touch this time. Shiro squeezed his knee slightly. "The others are here as well. We came to rescue you. I'm sorry it took us so long."

Lance scrunched his forehead. "The others… here?" he raised his head and stared at no particular direction. "Here in this room? Hunk? A-are you there?"

Okay, something was definitely wrong. Shiro's stomach flipped but he forced himself to stay calm for Lance's sake. "No, they're not here with us; they're fighting off the Galra in another part of the ship. But we'll all get out of here real soon." He swallowed thickly. "Lance, I have to ask… is there something wrong with your eyes?"

Lance's jaw twisted as if he wanted to cry. "I… I can't s-s-see," he admitted, voice breaking at the last word. "They – they injected me all kinds of stuff, I don't even know what this shit was," tears were freely trickling down his face now and he was shivering like a leaf. "I'm sorry…"

Shiro quickly grabbed Lance's sweaty palm. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said. His voice was soothing but he was screaming internally, cursing the Galra and wanting nothing more than tear this entire ship apart and then set in on fire. "None of this was your fault." It was his fault – Shiro, the black paladin of Voltron, who hadn't come here soon enough, who let Lance get captured in the first place, who was a terrible leader who couldn't even protect his fellow paladins.

But the pity party could wait for now. First he needed to get Lance out of here and figure out how to fix all of this.

Shiro cleared his throat. "Alright, let's get going. The lions are waiting for us just outside the back deck. Are you okay with a piggyback ride?" he tried not to make it sound as if Lance was completely helpless, but he truly doubted his ability to run across the hallways in this state, even if he had his eyesight.

Lance hesitated for a moment, then gave a weak nod. Shiro turned around and knelt with his back to him, carefully grabbing Lance's thin wrists and guiding them to wrap around his upper chest. "Can you wrap your legs around my waist? I'm right here in front of you."

Lance did as he was told and Shiro finally rose to a stand. It wasn't particularly comfortable – Lance didn't weigh too much but his long, lanky limbs made it pretty cumbersome to carry him around – but Shiro was determined to handle it, especially after Lance buried his head in the nape of his neck and he could feel the heat radiating from him. He turned on his comm. "I found Lance," he said curtly. "I'll meet you at the back deck in a few dobashes. Everything clear on your side?"

"As much as it can be," Keith instantly replied. "Is Lance alright?" he sounded unusually concerned about his so-called rival.

Shiro waited a long moment before answering. "He'll be fine," he said eventually, praying it was true.

-x-

Coran tried to be as gentle as possible when he checked Lance at the infirmary, since the latter still seemed to jerk away from every little touch even after hearing everyone's voices, who had assured him he was safe and back at the castle. Shiro knew it was probably from being sick and tired and unable to see what was coming at him, but he had a dark feeling those weren't the only reasons to this sudden aversion to touch. In any case, he appreciated the old advisor's efforts.

If Coran had any similar thoughts he kept them to himself. His expression was mild and businesslike as he reviewed the medical scans, humming to himself from time to time.

"Well, generally speaking, it seems that Number Three is in a decent physical condition," he said eventually. Shiro released a sigh of relief and glanced at Lance, who was currently lying on one of the infirmary's beds with an ice pack on his forehead. The room was empty save for the three of them – the others have left in respect of Lance's privacy, although the boy had insisted Shiro would stay. He didn't express it in words, but the panicked gasp he let out once his leader announced his intention to leave as well and let Coran do his job in peace was enough to change Shiro's mind immediately. He was willing to do everything in his power to help Lance feel better, and if his presence provided him even the slightest sense of comfort, he would stay with him for as long as he was needed.

"There are some traces of… foreign substances in his system," Coran continued, carefully choosing his words. "Which is the main reason for his temperature and general fatigue. However, the levels of those substances are pretty low and should wear off on their own in the next varga or so. As for the blindness, the good news is that it seems to be temporary; the, um, less good news is that I cannot let you in a pod until it your sight is back." He aimed the last sentence at Lance, his tone apologetic. Lance tensed in his place but didn't say anything.

Shiro turned to Coran. "Why can't he go in a pod? Shouldn't those things be able to fix this?"

"Well, they could in other circumstances, but considering this particular lack of sight was caused by a what was likely a toxin – " Shiro could hear Lance's breath hitch again and quickly placed a soothing hand on his lower arm – "I would not take the risk. This could interfere with the pod's program and hinder the healing process. The safest option would be to wait until this toxin is out of Lance's system, resulting in the recovery of his eyesight naturally. I believe this would take a couple of vargas, so in the meantime we shall continue with the ice packs and also put some fluids in you, my dear boy. Would you rather take it in liquid or an IV?"

Lance winced at the last word and small beads of sweat appeared on his face. "No more n-needles," he blurted out.

Shiro's heart clenched and even Coran seemed shaken for the first time today, judging by the slight tremble of his moustache. "Very well then," he said with some effort. "Number One, you can find a stock of water pouches in that cabinet right over there." He gestured toward one of the corners. "Now, will you be alright with keeping Lance company while I go and give the rest of the team a quick update about his condition?"

"Absolutely," Shiro smiled at the advisor. "Thanks, Coran. We'll be okay."

Coran nodded. He gave Lance one last look, eyes wrinkling with affection. Then, he left.

Shiro turned back to Lance. "So, what do you say about some water? I'm sure you'll feel a lot better after you drink."

Lance sighed, looking even more drained than before. "Okay," he mumbled.

Shiro walked to the cabinet Coran had showed him and scooped up a handful of pouches, hoping to get Lance to drink at least two of these in the next few vargas. He placed them on the nightstand and set about re-arranging Lance's pillows to make him more upright. However, Lance instantly flinched at the sudden invasion to his personal space and rolled away, nearly falling off the edge of the bed.

"Sorry!" Shiro called, nearly slapping himself for his oblivion. "It's just me. I should've told you I was here, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Lance panted, although he still looked pretty agitated. "I – I can sit by myself." He planted his palms on the bed and pulled himself up with a grunt. The ice pack slipped from his forehead and fell into his lap, but Shiro was reluctant to get any closer to Lance's face, so he let it rest there for the time being. Instead he carefully guided Lance to sit against the pillows, fingers barely brushing his body. Then he picked up one water pouch and placed it in his hand. He was relieved to see the boy's fingers wrap around it on their own, albeit shakily.

It took him a few moments of trial and error – Shiro barely stopped himself from helping – but eventually Lance's chapped lips found the straw and he started to suck on it, shoulders relaxing marginally.

"Take it slow, buddy," Shiro said gently. "We have time."

They sat in silence for a while until Lance finished about a half of the pouch and put it down. His eyes drooped and he looked like he was about to pitch forward at any second.

"How about you try to sleep for a while?" Shiro suggested. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Lance shook his head. "I don't think I can," he said gloomily. "I mean, if I wake up and still be like – like this," he waved a hand in front of his eyes, "I'm pretty sure I'll lose my shit."

Shiro sighed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"I'm sorry about earlier," Lance continued, looking ashamed. "It's just that… well, this whole situation kinda freaks me out, y'know."

"I completely understand," Shiro said. "Sorry for surprising you like that. I should've been more aware."

Lance shrugged. "It's cool."

"How long…" Shiro paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. He wasn't sure how exactly to approach this subject, but he hadto start somewhere. "How long have you been blind?"

Lance's fingers tightened around the pouch. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Maybe half a quintent before you guys came? I – I don't know, I lost track of time at some point." His head suddenly snapped at Shiro's direction, and Shiro took an instinctive step back as sightless eyes bored into his own. "But I didn't tell them anything. I swear."

Guilt rose in Shiro's throat like bile. Did Lance honestly think this was all what they cared about? That it wasn't enough for them to have him back hole and healthy (or, soon-to-be healthy), but they were also worried about him giving away information?

"Although they didn't really ask for information," Lance continued before Shiro had the chance to respond. He stared back at his lap. "I think they wanted more to – to – " he shuddered, taking a rattling breath, "to experiment. T-that's why they gave me all this crap. Like I was their fucking guinea pig or something."

Shiro felt his legs grow weak and heart freeze in his chest. The infirmary rapidly dissipated and all he saw was bright, purple neon lights above his head, and dozens of tubes and devices he had no idea what their purpose was and a dark, hooded face twisting in a sickening grin –

He stumbled to the side and bumped into the nightstand, and suddenly he was back in the infirmary, staring right at Lance's confused face. He inhaled sharply and ran a hair through his hair, locking his knees so they would stop shaking so hard.

Everything was fine. He wasn't there anymore. He was here at the castle with his friends, and right now he had to be strong for Lance. The boy has been through enough already, he didn't need his leader to drag him into his own painful flashbacks.

"I'm sorry," he heard himself saying and hated how choked his voice sounded. "I'm so sorry you had to go through this, Lance. I'm really, really glad to have you back."

Lance tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes and his face fell almost instantly. "Yeah," he said faintly. "I just…" he pulled his knees to his chest and hugged himself awkwardly. "I feel so stupid."

Shiro frowned. "Why's that?"

The hand holding the pouch clenched so hard that small drops of water sprinkled on the mattress. "For letting them do this in the first place," Lance said bitterly. "For being so weak. I should've fought harder, I should've tried to escape, I…" he hiccupped and brought his other hand to cover his face. "I don't deserve to be a paladin. I'm not strong enough."

Shiro felt as if someone had punched him in the guts. This was more than Lance's normal insecurities, the ones that Shiro had come to learn about over time; this was utter desperation and self-loathing, and he could not, would not let it stand.

"Don't say that," he said firmly. "Please, Lance. You are anything but weak; the fact you went through all of this and survived is just another proof of that."

Lance sniffed, still hiding behind his palm. "Only because you guys came to save me," he whispered. "I mean, I'm glad you did – thank you, honestly, I don't think I said it yet – but as long as I was there, I couldn't even touch the Galra. One time I tried to steal a gun and take some bad guys down but…" his voice broke. "I couldn't even make it past the first druid. So pathetic."

Shiro decided he had enough. He leaned closer and grabbed Lance's wrist, forcing it away from his tear-stricken face. Lance whimpered and Shiro loosened his grip a bit, but didn't quite let go. "Lance, lo – " he was going to say 'look at me' but caught himself on time. "Listen to me. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me a sincere answer. Can you do that for me?"

Lance nodded in confusion.

Shiro took a deep breath. "Do you think I'm pathetic?"

Lance's eyes widened. "Wha – "

"Do you think I'm pathetic?" Shiro repeated.

"Of course not," Lance blurted out. "You're, like, my hero." His ears turned bright pink at the last statement.

Shiro smiled softly. "Even though I had the Galra experiment on me and take my arm?"

Lance's jaw dropped, but he seemed unable to make any sound. Shiro carefully left his wrist and placed his hand on his cheek, wiping a stray tear. The boy's face was still too hot to the touch and he made a mental note to put the ice pack back in place once he settled this down.

"I was also a victim of the Galra's cruelty," Shiro said. "They forced me to fight in the arena and do all kinds of things I'm really not proud of, not even after I came to realize they weren't my fault. And after all that, they took my arm and replaced it with yet another weapon of them. I didn't have any say in this and I couldn't do anything to stop them. And yet here I am, piloting the black lion and leading Voltron, the most powerful force in the universe. A force that is meant to save and protect, not kill and destroy." He glanced at his right arm. "The Galra might have forced this arm on me, but I managed to escape them and use it for much better purposes. And you can do it too, Lance, once you're fully healed. Whatever you went through doesn't define you, nor does it make you weak or pathetic; the Galra are the pathetic ones, for doing all those horrible things just to get more power and control. You are nothing but brave and kind and the best blue paladin we have."

Lance chuckled wetly. "I'm the only blue paladin you have."

"This doesn't mean you're not the best."

"Shiro…" Lance whispered. He lowered his knees and hunched forward, and the black paladin took the clue and scooped him in his arms, letting him bury his face in his armor.

"It's not going to be easy, dealing with everything that's happened," Shiro said quietly and rubbed Lance's back. "But I'm here for you if you ever need to talk. We're all here for you. And none of us thinks any less of you because of that, so please, please don't say those things about yourself ever again."

"O-okay," Lance said shakily, voice muffled. "Gracias, Shiro."

Shiro smiled against Lance's scalp and the knot in his chest finally loosened. "Anytime."

"And I'm here too, you know."

"Hmm?"

"I'm here… for you." Lance raised his face to look at Shiro. "You've also went through some stuff… with the Galra… I know you don't like to talk about it," he added quickly, "But if you ever feel like… I promise to listen."

Shiro felt his own eyes grow moist. "I'll bear that in mind. Gracias, Lance."

Lance huffed at Shiro's lame Spanish accent. Then he gasped sharply and fell backwards, pressing his palms to his eyes again.

"What's wrong?" Shiro asked frantically, heart leaping to his throat.

Lance slowly removed one palm and then the other, blinking rapidly. His eyes widened in wonderment. "I can see," he breathed. "Shiro, I – " he looked straight at his leader and his lips shook, "I see you."

"What?" Shiro said in disbelief. Coran had said it would take several vargas for Lance to get his eyesight back. "Are you sure?"

Lance laughed hysterically. "Um, it's pretty hard not to be sure about that," he said, grinning and shedding newfound tears at the same time.

"Lance…" Shiro couldn't help but copy the other boy's grin. He opened his arms again and Lance happily lunged into them, wrapping his own arms around the black paladin's broad back. "That's amazing, buddy. I'm really happy."

"Me too." A shiver ran through Lance's spine despite being engulfed in a tight embrace. "I know Coran said it was temporary but man, you have no idea how scared I was. I-I thought I was going to stay like this forever."

Another pang of guilt struck Shiro but he pushed it away, not wanting to ruin this joyful moment. "Well, you're not. I would never, ever let that happen. Now, do you want me to call the others so they can say hello before you go in the pod? Everyone's going to be so excited when they find out you can see again."

Lance remained silent for a long time. "In a minute," he finally said in a small voice. "I… I'd like to stay like this a little longer, if that's okay with you."

Shiro smiled and held Lance a bit closer. "Of course. As long as you need."

And so they stayed. Lance was still pretty gross and sweaty from fever, but Shiro didn't mind; He was here, and that was all that mattered. He knew the days to come were not going to be easy, but he was determined to do anything it took to make things better - for Lance, for himself and for the rest of their family. He was not going to let the Galra win so easily.

Sorry for the cheezy ending, I didn't really know how to end this :P but other than that, I'm satisfied. I struggled a lot with Shiro's chapter, so I'm proud of myself for finally finishing it.

As always, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts in the reviews. I've noticed reviews to this work have kind of dwindled recently, and I gotta say, it's a little bit discouraging. Your feedback means a lot to me, especially on a multi-chapter work such as this; it's one of the main things that keep me motivated. So please, if you read and enjoyed this chapter, take a minute to leave a review! It doesn't have to be long (although those are always fun ;)), just a few words expressing your thoughts/feelings. Thank you :) and to those who'd commented on all the chapters thus far - I love you and you're awesome.