Summary: There's blood everywhere except where it should be, which is inside Lance. All Hunk can do is hold him as he shivers, respond to his confused, pained breathless words and pray that help arrives soon.
Timeline notes: Not really applicable, but set season four or five
Warning notes: A lot of blood. Like. A lot of blood.
Additional notes: For Tumblr follower kiriban event with prompt: hi uh for the whump bi go thing can you do bleeding out wit lancey Lance

Crimson Promises

Hunk's stomach desperately wanted to vomit out all of its contents.

He forced himself to hold it in.

The last thing needed here was more bodily fluids.

He risked another glance down and felt the bile tickle his throat.

Nope.

It was not getting better.

And Lance was getting worse.

Such was enough to sober Hunk's stomach and he reached out a shaking, blood-stained hand towards his best friend's face, pillowed in his lap.

"Lance?" he whispered. "Hermano?"

Lance let out a whimper, hands twitching where they laid at his sides.

Hazy blue eyes blinked open. "Hunk?" he rasped.

"Right here," Hunk picked up one of the hands in his own, squeezing it and trying to push heat back into it. "You're doing great. They're… they're almost here."

Ten minutes out Pidge had relayed a while ago, voice tight.

Hunk didn't know if Lance had ten minutes.

The shrapnel from the explosion that had sliced through his underarmor, ripping open his stomach, told a very different story.

It said they had maybe five more, if that.

It had already been almost twenty, but none of the other Paladins had been able to break away from the fight to come to their aid without drawing enemy ships after them and putting the two stranded and immobile Paladins on the ground in even more danger.

Based on the still growing puddle of blood surrounding them as Lance's stomach continued to pump and send it gushing down his sides Hunk wondered if the enemy ships were really the true danger at this point.

"Who… who's they?" Lance slurred, eyes already fluttering closed.

"No no, stay awake," Hunk tapped the too pale cheek with his bare hand, his gloves long gone in a failed attempt to make a bandage of any sort for Lance. "C'mon, hermano… don't… don't go to sleep."

If he fell asleep Hunk didn't know if he was going to wake up.

"'Mm," Lance mumbled. "'m tired though. No more… no more studyin'. 'm not gonna pass any...anyways."

"Of course you'll pass," Hunk choked out. He'd been playing along with whatever conversation Lance started up as confusion settled over him with the continued blood loss, but the fact so many of them kept veering in a darker spiral had him nearly as worried as the injury.

He had to be at about twenty percent loss now, Hunk estimated.

More than enough to send him into hypovolemic shock. He was already displaying more severe symptoms.

Lance's brow furrowed. "You… you want salt? Gonna ruin it. Y'know better."

"You're right, you're right," Hunk murmured. He glanced down the length of Lance's body, making certain his feet hadn't slipped off the rock Hunk had rolled over after tucking them under the overhang of a small hill and as out of sight of potential enemy eyes as he could. "Too much salt is bad."

Lance hummed in agreement.

"Lance, no sleeping," Hunk pleaded as he felt Lance's head tip slightly and the harsh, shallow breaths became muffled on Hunk's armor. "C'mon. Stay awake, okay?"

"'m cold," Lance murmured instead. "'m cold, Hunk."

He emphasized this by shivering.

A new line of crimson added itself to the growing puddle.

"I know, I know," Hunk whispered, bringing his hand that wasn't holding tight to Lance's hand down to the other shoulder and rubbing it, trying to generate some heat through the underarmor. He'd already stripped off Lance's chestplate and arm guards for easier breathing and to make Lance more comfortable, but he was wondering now if maybe the weight would have been good to warm him.

No, he shook his head. It wouldn't have mattered.

He had kept Lance's belt on, bringing it up some to wrap about Lance's navel as though it could Lance's insides inside of him.

It wasn't doing much.

The wound was too deep.

Too wide.

There was so much blood.

"Two minutes," Pidge keyed into his ear.

"Hurry," Hunk whispered back.

"No, no hurry," Lance mumbled. "You'll trip."

"Pidge is flying," Hunk told him, shifting his other hand back to Lance's head, combing bloodied fingers through the brown locks. "She can't trip."

"Pidge's flying?" Lance frowned. "But 'm the pilot."

"You still are," Hunk pressed two fingers to Lance's pulse on his neck. "You're an amazing pilot."

It beat rapidly.

Too fast.

Too shallow.

"Nu uh," Lance shook his head weakly. "'ways crash." His right hand rose slightly. "Boom."

"No, not boom." He tapped his hand against Lance's cheek even as his heart clenched again at the newest admission.

They were going to have a talk when this was all over. And when. Not if. When.

"C'mon hermano," Hunk cajoled. "Let me see those pretty blues of yours."

Lance's lips twitched up into a smile. "'kay."

His eyes remained closed.

"Lance, c'mon, miráme," Hunk ordered, voice breaking. "Miráme."

Lance's eyes fluttered open before he closed them with a groan. "'s too bright."

There was a roar then, a whoosh of air.

Hunk almost cried as the Green Lion swooped overhead.

"Pidge is here," he told Lance. "Allura too. C'mon, hermano, don't you want to say hi to the princess?"

"Princess?" Lance repeated. "A r-real one? Really?"

Allura was already descending from the Green Lion before Pidge could even land the ship while Shiro and the Black Lion showed up a few ticks later, remaining in the air and standing guard.

"Really," Hunk promised, meeting Allura's eyes as the Altean sprinted for them.

He'd never seen Allura run before. Or look so scared.

"She's… she's super pretty," Hunk continued, trying to talk over his own rapidly pounding heart now. "And smart. And she's your friend."

Allura was at his side now, dropping to her knees and making a splash in the blood puddle.

Hunk's stomach reminded him how it had been being ignored for a while now.

He shushed it.

"'m friends with… with a princess?" Lance mumbled.

"Yes, you are," Allura said, shooting Hunk a confused look even as she slid one hand under Lance's knees and the other beneath the slight gap behind Lance's shoulders.

Lance's eyes flew open at the new voice.

He blinked.

"Wow," he said, voice dazed. "You are really pr...pretty."

"And up we go," Allura said in response, standing in one swoop with Lance cradled in her arms.

He moaned, head lolling back against her chest, eyes closed again.

"Leave the armor," Allura ordered as Hunk leapt to his own shaking feet, Lance's upper pieces scattered about them. "We have no time to waste."

Hunk agreed completely.

He charged up the ramp right behind Allura, the Lion taking off as soon as they were inside.

Allura had already pulled out the travel cot in the cockpit and procured every piece of emergency medical equipment she could find although she looked at a loss of what to do.

Hunk elbowed past her, grabbed one of the folded blankets, whispered an apology and pressed it down over Lance's stomach.

He jerked on the cot, a whimper pulled from his lips.

Not the reaction Hunk had expected or wanted.

He was fading.

"No," he whispered, pressing down harder, as though seeing Lance in pain was a comfort.

It was, in a sick, twisted way.

"Hold that," he commanded Allura and she did so without question. Hunk grabbed the emergency heat packs, broke them to start the reaction, and began to pile them about Lance; on his chest, between his arms and sides, and then grabbed a second blanket, shaking it out and spreading it over Lance's lower half, pausing only to re-prop Lance's feet on the empty emergency kit box.

Lance shuddered and shivered.

Hunk moved to his side and picked up Lance's left hand and clutched it between his own.

"Hold on, hermano," he whispered, looking at the pain-lined face that he liked to imagine had a small dash of color back in it from the heat.

"Wormholing now," Pidge called from the front, voice wavering. "One minute till landing. Coran has a pod prepped. Is… is he…?"

"Lance is strong," Allura said quietly, having not paused in her orders even as blood had welled up about her gloves. "He shall be all right." She met Hunk's eyes. "He is dear friends with a certain princess after all, and she will not accept any other outcome."

Hunk let out a wet, slightly hysterical chuckle.

"Hear that, hermano?" he squeezed Lance's hand, choking back a sob. "No dying now. Princess's orders."

"'kay," Lance breathed. "No… no dying."

"No dying," Hunk repeated, feeling something loosen in his chest.

Even though he knew Lance was delirious at this point he felt comforted by the words, the promise.

Lance was many things but he was not a liar, not even now.

Hunk believed him with all his heart.

Lance was going to be okay. Here. Now. And later.

Hunk would make sure of it.

That was his own promise.

Author's notes: Writing delirium is really really really fun. Thank you, blood loss, for this opportunity. Platonic Hance for my soul and a little Allura too. Precious. Enjoy? Please leave a comment below and give some love to the author!

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EDIT: Due to the continuing severe decline in commentator-ship this chapter and one more of Battlefield will be the last updates posted here on fanfiction dot net. All future updates and stories will take place solely on my Archive of Our Own account, username icypanther. Hope to see you there!