Keith and Shiro split up almost as soon as they set foot on the warship. Keith keeps to the maintenance vents, which are too warm and too small for his comfort. Shiro's lucky. He's too big to use them; he had to use the bowls of the ship to move around. Being closed in brings up memories of hiding in closets and crawlspaces much too easily. He pushes the memories away. They are from the past; they can stay there, never to bother him again with their stupid flashbacks and emotional baggage. No point in remembering things from a life that he'll never return to.

He passes by another vent. Was this one the third or fourth vent he'd passed? Dammit. He'd have to crawl backwards and start all over again. Keith had been focusing on counting so much, that he forgot to keep the vent number in mind. As he scooted back, pausing in front of the last vent for a break, he heard it. His first concrete evidence that Lance was actually alive. Throughout the past few weeks, they had had nothing to go on but hope and a single, disgusting picture of him. They weren't even a hundred percent sure if Lance was in the war ship, but this… He pressed his ear to the bottom of the vent and laid very still.

"Is Lance healing on schedule?" A somewhat familiar voice asked. Where had Keith heard it before?

"He will be fully healed in four quintants." Another voice replied. "He'll have limited scarring."

"Good. No need to ruin that pretty face of his." The familiar voice said.

Keith's blood ran cold. Limited scarring? What the hell had happened to give him scars, to put him in a damn cryo pod?

They moved into another room, Keith guessed, as their conversation slowly grew inaudible. He sat up and scooted back until he could almost clearly see out of the vent. The room below him had the distinct appearance of a medical bay. A gurney rested in one corner, beside what appeared to be a wheelchair. If he strained hard enough, he could make out bottles and bandages in the cupboards, contrasting with the collection of knives and other heinous looking tools laid out on the counter.

He couldn't see anyone in the room, but since he also couldn't see a cryopod, he knew that there was a blind spot. If he waited any longer, he could lose his chance to save him. If he made a mistake, this could be the only chance that he had.

Keith wrapped his fingers around the grate and pushed, until it separated from the vent. He pulled it into the vent with him and pushed it behind him before turning around and dropping out of the vent. Keith landed harshly on his heels, and though his shins complained, he stood up and surveyed the room. There were six cryopods lined up on the far wall. On the opposite side of the room was the door.

Although Keith wanted to run to the cryopods and check for Lance first, he knew that blocking the door was his first priority. Grabbing the gurney, he slammed it against the door. He stabbed the rolling hinges on the top and bottom of the door with scalpels and surveyed his handiwork. It would take a lot of effort to get it open. More than enough time to get Lance and get out of here.

He ran back to the pod. It was different than the pods in the castle. He could at least somewhat recognise how to read the time and the on and off buttons, but this Galran pod was completely unfamiliar. He stared at the scrolling words across the screen. Something that reminded him of 'stop' flashed by, and he pressed it; guessing was the best that he could do at the moment. A few seconds of nervous waiting revealed that he had indeed chose the right button to push. Lance stumbled out, and Keith automatically reached out to steady him. Instead of a mumbled thank you, or a smile or any of the things that Keith had expected, Lance flinched, knocking him out of his already hazy balance and onto the ground.

He looked up at him in surprise. "Keith?" Keith offered him a hand, which Lance hesitantly took. "What're you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, obviously." The door sparked. Someone was trying to get in. "I need you to be very quiet, or else neither of us are getting out of here."

Lance frowned jokingly. "What? You don't think I can be quiet? I can be quiet. I'll be way quieter than you Keith."

Keith pulled another gurney to the vent. "Yeah? Somehow I doubt that." He stood back and held the gurney steady. "Here. You first."

Lance climbed on and reached for the open vent. It wasn't a hard feat; Lance was tall, and athletic after all of the training that they had. It shouldn't have been a problem. But as his fingers grazed the edge of the vent, he folded, clutching at his side. Keith almost didn't catch him, but luckily was able to maneuver the gurney to catch him. The pounding on the door grew louder. He could hear voices yelling.

"You good?" Keith breathed.

Lance nodded. "I'm still a bit sore from," He hesitated. "Yesterday. You go first and then help me up."

Keith wanted to protest, make him go first, but he didn't have the time. He climbed into the vent and scooted back, pressing his feet against the walls to brace himself. He leaned out and offered a hand.

The beating on the door was replaced with the whine of a saw.

Lance grabbed onto his hand, and Keith pulled him up until his torso was halfway into the vent. Although he could've held Lance's weight twice over from another position, he couldn't keep from falling while holding his weight. Luckily, Lance managed to have enough leverage to pull himself fully into the vent. It was just in time too. The doors burst open just as Lance replaced the vent cover. They lay still as the Galra soldiers stormed the room. Keith couldn't see out of the vent; Lance was in front of him, back pressed to Keith's face.

It was muffled, but he heard enough to get the gist of the situation.

"...escape… cryopod required help to…"

A different voice spoke up. That familiar one that he couldn't place. "...Get my prize….or else your head will be…"

At the sound of the second voice, Lance stiffened. Keith wanted to ask him why. For another time, he supposed.

The voices disappeared, but Keith waited until Lance relaxed before starting to scoot backwards.

"Shiro," He said, static messing up the comm signal. It was faint, but he knew that he could be heard. If the signal was any stronger, the Galra's detection systems would be able to hear it; all of their comms were on the lowest levels. It made him uneasy.

"Keith, are you okay?" Shiro said over the static.

"I've got Lance with me, but they know he's gone." They passed by another vent. One to go. "You should head back out, cover us."

Behind him, the vent groaned. "Quiet." Keith hissed. If they made too much noise, it wouldn't be hard to figure out their location.

"Sorry." Lance whispered. "My clothes keep catching onto stuff. I'm not exactly dressed for heroism, and dramatic escapes right now, Keith."

"Circle back to the ship. I found his armor. We'll meet up there." Shiro said, as Keith stopped at the final vent and pushed it out. It clattered to the floor as he jumped out, landing hard on his feet. His leg ached again. As Lance dropped to the floor behind him, Keith scanned the room. The janitor's closet (or the Galra equivalent, anyways) was still secure. The door was soldered shut, the soldering iron used to do it abandoned on the floor beside it. Keith face palmed, hand hitting his helmet with a loud slap. Damn it. It had seen like a good idea at the time; added security to prevent anything from going awry. But now that he was standing there staring at the damn thing, it was obvious that they'd have to find another way out.

"Who fried the door shut?" Lance asked, tapping at the soldering lines.

"I did."

"Great idea Keith." Lance said, sarcasm dripping from each word. "We've gotta backtrack, go back through one of the other rooms we passed."

Keith stared at Lance. He was still wearing that goddamn white outfit, or maybe one similar to the one in the picture. The fabric was torn in places and hung broken around his chest. Lance had a light mark above his eyebrow, a mark that wasn't there when they had met last; a half healed cut, Keith realized. Lance continued to gripe about Keith's stupidity with soldering and didn't he know you were only supposed to solder half of the door if you wanted to open it again later?

If this had been a regular mission, if they had not been on separate sides of the universe for almost the past month, maybe then Keith would've just told him to shut up, to put all that effort towards actually solving the problem. But it wasn't, and they had. So instead of yelling back, he walked up to Lance, and yanked that basically not there shirt until Lance shut up and stumbled closer. He didn't even bother with the whole slow, romantic crap that he had planned. He just smashed his lips against Lance's, and marveled at how freakin' soft they were. Lance leaned into him, and parted his lips gently. He could taste Lance; like water, smooth and clear. Something refreshing that he couldn't put a name to.

Then Keith remembered that this wasn't something that he had time for, that this was the wrong place, the worst actually, and then he pulled away.

Lance laughed, a clear, nervous laugh. "You're gonna have to try harder if you want to shut me up."

"Trust me, I will. Later. But for now stand back, I think I have an idea." Keith waited for Lance to step away from the door before slashing the hinges. Lance ran at it, and kicked the door in. The door leaned back, half stuck in the door frame leaving a small opening for them to escape through.

Keith went through first, then Lance. He could almost taste Hunk's cooking, could almost smell the familiar artificial scent of the castle air, could almost see them, sitting on that too fluffy couch in the rec room together (doing something that Keith couldn't quite picture with), when he realized that Lance wasn't looking at him and returning his jubilant smile. Lance was frozen, gaze fixed over Keith's shoulder. He turned, and behind him stood the person that had set this whole thing into motion: Prince Lotor.