Chapter summary: In which Pidge chases a Magicarp, has a deep, disturbing talk with said Magicarp, and refuses to look a gift Druid in the mouth. Bad breath, you understand.

13: Truce

This guy… was a sneaky skinny stick. Some of these vents were almost too narrow for her to slide through. How the Druid managed it was beyond her. He must be a lot skinnier than she first thought.

The way those brown robes he'd worn when they first met in the Blue Lion's hanger hung off him, it was hard to make out any real form to his body. The brown shirt and pants were a bit tighter fitting, but even they had been hanging off him in places. It was official. Lance was a sneaky skinny stick and she wanted pointers.

He was also a slippery sneaky skinny stick. Every time Pidge had been this close to nabbing him, he'd slipped away. Sometimes wriggling around like some sort of demented snake. He even flopped once. She'd caught sight of him rounding a bend in the vent tunnel ahead and scrambled up behind him before he could make a break for it. She gotten her fingers around his ankle when he just flopped, literally flopped like a fucking Magicarp, kicking her in the face and escaping.

It had been a game of chase ever since. Up the vertical nexus tunnels where the horizontal vents came together, down the slanted ones leading towards the Lions' hangers, and through a maze of side vents.

She'd been somewhat familiar with the vent systems since she'd relied on them to get around the Castleship and sabotage the engines without getting caught by Sendak. But it seemed Lance knew them even better than she did. That was a bit unnerving. It implied Lance had spent much more time in the vents than she had.

She'd hidden in them for a good six hours or more. That was a long time by any standard. But if Lance had been in here longer, then that meant he'd had to sneak aboard the Castleship without anyone noticing and then slip into the vents. How could he do that and no one notice? When did he do that?

They hadn't stopped anywhere between Arus and the Balmera, except for that little moon where they 'd met those traitors Nyma and Rolo. They left there in a hurry after they'd almost stolen her Green Lion. She was still embarrassed about that. They cyber-unit Beezer was adorable and so freaking amazing! How could she not love it to bits?

Groaning at the humiliating memory, Pidge ambled on down this dimly lit tunnel. Lance had lost her in the past vent nexus. She was almost certain he'd taken this vent, but she wasn't one hundred percent sure. She was going by gut instinct which hadn't led her wrong yet. Minus the Beezer incident.

A few casually worded threats and no one on Team Voltron mentioned that incident. No one.

There was a a dull thud of metal hitting metal ahead and Pidge looked up with a surprised frown. What the heck was that? Lance?

Scrambling through the narrowing vent as fast as she could, she rounded a corner and came face to face with a metal door of some kind. It was clearly not a part of the vent proper. It looked suspiciously like one of those blast door things that shut tight in the event of a fire or toxic gas release or something. But if that's really what it was, Pidge sincerely hoped it wasn't triggered by one of the rather deadly and not so pleasant causes she could think of.

Besides, if it was a toxic gas leak or whatever, then there would probably be a hissing sound of escaping gas, right? She held her breath and listened. Well, there was no hissing sound, but she could hear shuffling on the other side of the door. She'd bet Hunk's Voltron Geiger counter device that the shuffling was Lance.

Damn it. He was right there and she couldn't reach him because of a stupid door. And Naturally, she hadn't thought to grab her bayard before climbing down in here. Not that she was exactly sure where in the Castle 'here' was, but it was the principle of the thing.

Well, this was frustrating. She frowned and reached out to run her hands along the metal. She could feel creases and tiny cracks where the metal had been worn down over the years. Interesting and possibly useful. Shifting, she spread her hands flat on the metal door and tested its integrity. It bent when she pressed hard.

Huh. If the door was worn enough to bend under the force of just her hands, then there was chance she could break it down and get through.

"Commander Sendak?!"

Oh shit. Yep. That was definitely Lance the Druid and now was definitely the time for her to break this damn door down. Taking a deep breath, she pushed against the metal with all her might. She had to dig her shoes into the vent floor to help give her extra leverage.

The door gave way with an unholy shriek that was murder to her ears. Yay, but strange. Metal wasn't supposed to work that way as far as she knew. But hey, the door was down and she now had a very good view of long brown pant legs leading up to a butt and a pair of gleaming blue eyes.

Woah. Keith was right about the eye shine thing. Lance really could see in the dark.

Shit! He could kick too. Flailing out with her hands, she was able to catch one of Lance's legs, haul herself forward, and lay her weight on top of it. With one foot out of the way, she made quick work of the other one, forcing it next to its partner under her stomach and chest. Lance still tried to kick them free, but it wasn't doing much other than be annoying. This vent tunnel was too narrow for either of them to move freely.

But just in case, she looped both of her arms around Lance's knees and held on. The Druid gave up flopping and tried wriggling. This wasn't too bad, to be honest. She was getting a free ride and Lance couldn't do anything about it.

"You know," she said after a minute, "if you just stop, fighting me, we can get this over with."

Lance didn't respond verbally, but he did finally stop struggling. In fact, Lance fell limp and didn't so much as twitch. That was suspiciously easy. An obnoxious gurgle resounded through the vent and Pidge's brown eyes widened in disbelief.

"Was that your stomach?" she gasped, her lips twitching up even as she tried to bite back a snicker.

Lance groaned and it sounded positively pathetic. "Leave me alone," he mumbled.

His words were slurred by embarrassment and muffled by the sleeves he'd buried his face in. Pidge lifted her head and tried to get a good look at the Druid, but all she got was a vague outline of his body courtesy of the light from the vent opening in front of Lance's face.

The words she'd heard the Druid cry out through the demolished door and grimaced. That room must be the prison pod level. How did they get so far down here without her realizing it? The vents must have been angled downward in such a gentle slope that he hadn't noticed.

There was movement by Lance's shoulders and three pairs of eyes stared back at her. Allura's mice.

"Oh, hi there," she called to the mice, flashing them a bright smile. "Think you could go let Allura know I caught Lance?"

One of the mice, she thought it was the pink one, but it was hard to tell in the dim light, squeaked and shook its head. Lance said something too low and muffled for her to understand, but the pink mouse seemed to understand. It crouched down on all fours and chattered frantically but Lance just shook his head, never looking up from his arms. The mouse's squeaks softened and it patted Lance's pointed ear before slipping through the slats of the vent opening and disappearing.

Pidge frowned curiously at the exchange. She knew the princess's mice were never as friendly with strangers as they were with Lance. She trusted him. That was something she hadn't expected. Also, Lance wasn't fighting her anymore at all. He wasn't even moving.

Actually, no, he was moving slightly. His shoulders were shaking and… Wait. She could hear the faintest sound of muffled…sobs? Was Lance crying?

"Hey," she said cautiously. "Are you alright man?"

Lance let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "What do you think, green paladin?" he said. He probably meant it to sound angry or snappish, but it only sounded tired and resigned.

What did she think?

"Are you crying?" she asked hesitantly.

"No!"

That would be an emphatic yes. She wasn't sure how to handle this.

"Why are you crying?" she asked in confusion. "We're not going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you."

Lance scoffed and that did sound a bit more derisive and less sad. "Right," he said, turning his head so he faced the vent wall. "Just like you only meant to escape us when we tried to catch the Yellow Lion at that uncharted planet. Or like you only meant to stop us from attacking this frell-foresaken ship when you blew up Commander Sendak's battlecruiser. Or how you only meant to stop the Galra from attacking the Balmera when you destroyed that other battlecruiser."

"We were just trying to protect the Balmera," Pidge said, vehemently. "And Sendak had it coming. He attacked us first."

"He was commanded to engage," Lance snapped.

"Well so were we," Pidge shouted right back. "Sendak's ion canon was going to destroy the Castle's particle barrier. We had to do something."

"And I'm supposed to believe blowing up and entire battlecruiser was that something?" Lance hissed.

"Yes!"

Lance jerked his feet, startling her. It wasn't enough to get free, but it did knock the breathe out of Pidge when she didn't brace fast enough.

"You're sick," Lance said.

"Says the guy who works for the Galra," Pidge said angrily.

"At least the Galra are honorable," Lance shouted back, shooting a glare back at her over his shoulder. She could barely make out what looked suspiciously like tear trails down the one cheek she could see. "They give the enemy a chance to surrender before attacking and non-combatants are left alone."

"Oh right, in what universe?" Pidge said, rolling her eyes.

"This one?" Lance said, slapping the vent with one hand. "What other universe is there? Don't answer that," he said quickly. "I really don't want to debate philosophy right now."

"Oh yeah?" Pidge said, feeling more than a little vindictive right now. "Then do you want to do?"

Lance moaned and buried his head back in his arms. "I want to eat," he drawled. "I'm so frelling hungry. My stomach won't stop hurting. I'm thirsty. I'm tired. I'm drained. And I just want to go home! There," he snapped, raising his head to emphasize his point. "Happy?"

"Uhh… No?" Pidge hedged. That hadn't been what she'd been expecting. "Why are you so hungry? When was the last time you ate?"

Lance dropped his head back into his arms. "When did we fight the Balmera?" he mumbled.

"Two days ago," Pidge answered promptly. She stopped, thought over her words, and her eyes grew wide. "You haven't eaten in two days?"

"Technically," Lance said, tilting his head just enough for his words to come out more clearly, "I haven't eaten a proper meal in seven quintants. But I've snuck a bowl of that green goop stuff you guys eat every now and then when you were all sleeping. I didn't risk coming out of the vents more often than that."

Pidge's mouth hung open in horrified shock. "You-! When was the last time you drank something?"

Lance sighed, his shoulders rising and falling wearily. That was all the answer Pidge needed.

"Yeah, right, okay, we're going to get you some food," she said. "Like now."

Lance scoffed. "Like you care."

Pidge bristled. "I do care. We don't torture people." Unlike the Galra, she left unsaid. Although, those unspoken words still rang so loudly in the cramped space that she might as well have said them out loud. "Look, let's get out of these vents and back with the others."

Lance shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "No way in frell. I am not going anywhere near that witch."

Pidge blinked. "Witch? You mean Allura?"

"Who else would I be talking about?" Lance said waspishly.

"I don't know, Zarkon?" Pidge offered sarcastically. She was mildly surprised when Lance actually seemed to seriously consider her words.

"Point," he admitted, and wasn't that a surprise.

"I thought you were loyal to Zarkon," Pidge said carefully.

"Fear and loyal to are two completely different things," Lance said, holding up a finger. "Zarkon's frakking terrifying. I'm not stupid enough to go against him."

"But," Pidge said, trying to make sense of the Druid's words, "you fight with the Galra. Doesn't that mean you serve Zarkon?"

Lance shrugged. "Technically, yes. Officially, yes. But honestly, I'd rather be quiznaked then serve Zarkon directly." He shuddered. "I don't have a death wish."

This was… This made no sense. Every Galra Pidge had come across was a fanatic, loyal to both the Galra Empire and its emperor, Zarkon. Maybe Lance wasn't a radical because he wasn't a Galra?

"Oh-kay," she said, drawing out the word. "But if you don't want to serve Zarkon, why do you? And why are you still so hung up about us destroying those battlecruisers? We were fighting. This is a war. They attack, we fight back."

Lance was already shaking his head. "It's never as simple as that," he said viciously. "Do you have any idea how many lives you and your team killed on those battlecruisers?"

Pidge shrugged. "I don't know. A couple hundred?" she guessed. "Maybe less? There are a lot of drones on those ships."

Lance was silent for a long minute, turning his head to stare out the vent opening. "I don't know about the battlecruiser on the Balmera," he said quietly. "But there were five hundred forty-seven people aboard Commander Sendak's battlecruiser. Two hundred seventy-one were non-combatants."

Pidge swallowed over a suddenly dry throat. "What do you mean by…non-combatants?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"People who can't or don't fight," Lance replied. "Children, families, mothers, the elderly, slaves-"

"Slaves!?" Pidge gasped. She paled in dawning horror. Her brother was probably still a Galra slave. What if he'd been on one of those ships? What if he…he… Also, "Children?" she whispered in despair.

"Yes," Lance said.

"But…" None of this made sense. "Why were there children and slaves on a battlecruiser?" she demanded, trying to make sense of Lance's words. "I'm assuming they were Galra children, so why weren't they on the Galra home planet?"

Lance huffed a grim laugh. "Weren't you listening," he said. "The Alteans destroyed the Galra home world. They live in space now. They're entire race lives in space. Battlecruisers are used to fight and shelter the families of the soldiers on board if they decide to come. They're also used to transport slaves across the galaxy."

Children. Slaves. Pidge had helped kill…

"That's why you were so mad," she murmured. "When you attacked us with the Blue Lion on the Balmera. You were mad because we were cheering and all that time you knew there were children and s-slaves on that ship and we had no idea and…" She felt like throwing up.

"There was that," Lance said. "But also, I knew some Druids were on that ship as well." His shoulders drooped. "My people were on that ship."

"Alteans," Pidge whispered. She closed her eyes and let her head fall to Lance's legs. "Holy shit."

Lance said nothing, but his stomach growled loud enough for both of them. Despite her gloom, Pidge still felt a smile tug at her lips. "Look," she said, "why don't we get you out out of here and stuff some food down your belly," she snickered when Lance's stomach growled again, louder, "and I'll break the news to the others."

Lance hunched over, his head hanging down. If Pidge knew Lance better, she would've joked about the Druid losing his head. But now probably wasn't the best time to joke about death, even fake death.

"Just…don't…" Lance sighed. "I don't want to be near the witch or her advisor."

"Allura's really not bad," Pidge said.

"I don't want to be near her," Lance said more forcefully.

Pidge sighed. "Okay," she said. "I'll do what I can."

Lance nodded. "I'll take that."

He shifted so his arms unfolded and pressed to the vent grate. A faint blue glow with hints of purple sparks illuminated the darkness. A couple ticks later, the vent cover dropped away, landing on the floor of the room beyond with a loud clatter.

"You'll have to let go of my legs if you want to get out of here," Lance said, his voice flat and weary.

"Oh, right." Pidge unwrapped her arms from Lance's legs and pushed herself up far enough for him to squirm free. "Um, this might be a weird time to ask, but why are you trusting me right now?"

Lance paused halfway out of the vent opening, leaning on something just out of sight. "Because you tried to kill me," he said. "Twice."

"Yeah, that doesn't make any sense," Pidge said, shaking her head. "Why would you trust someone who tried to kill you?"

Lance pulled himself the rest of the way out of the vent, letting his legs fall free. Pidge crawled up to the opening and stuck her head out. There was a prison pod below and to the left of the vent. Lance must have used that to help him get out without falling.

Hands filled her vision and she followed the arms back to Lance who was standing on the floor below her. His arms were extended as if to catch her and help her down. How…nice. She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a gift Druid, if you will.

She grabbed one of Lance's hands with her own and let him help keep her balance as she worked herself out of the vent. Her other hand grabbed the prison pod next to her. When she was almost entirely out, Lance placed the hand he'd been holding on his shoulder and stepped closer.

"Just drop," he said. "I'll catch you."

She eyed him and his thin sticky form in disbelief, earning her a wry eye roll. Still, it was better than nothing. She pushed herself the rest of the way out and was promptly caught by hands on her hips. Although she did hear a grunt of pain when her legs swung down to kick Lance in the thins as he lowered her down to the floor.

"Sorry," she muttered, dusting herself off. She sneezed and Lance winced. "You still didn't answer my question though."

Lance heaved a sigh. "I trust you because you tried to kill me."

"Yeah, but how is that supposed to make sense?" Pidge pressed.

Blue eyes stared at her before sliding away. "You only tried to kill me on the battlefield," he mumbled.

Oh.

"Truce?" she said, holding out an open hand.

Lance eyed it suspiciously before taking it. "Truce."

"Now," Pidge said, shaking Lance's hand, "let's go get you some fo-"

"Pidge!" Shiro's voice shouted from down the hall by the lift. "Get away from him!"

Damn it.