familiar
chapter twenty-six

"Home," Talin said, shivering. He took a slow, hesitant step forward. "Home."

Allura began to cry silently, covering her eyes with her hands.

"Home," she repeated.

Yes—he could see it. He hadn't been home for such a long time, but there was a sense of relief settling into his bones.

"You are loyal to me, are you not?"

Talin turned to see the king, cold eyes gazing at him. He dropped to his knees, bowing his head.

"Yes, Majesty."

There was the pounding of footsteps. Five others burst into the room, all of them vaguely familiar, though Lance couldn't place their faces. He only recognized one—the royal advisor, Coran. The others were wearing the paladin armor, though, and it made Talin pause.

"Then you will obey my orders," King Alfor said. He swept a hand towards the intruders. "They are not paladins. Protect the princess."

"Lance!"

"Princess!"

"What the hell?"

Dangerous. They were all dangerous, and they were here to stop Allura, to hurt her. Talin was a protector—he couldn't let them do that. By his side, his bayard extended into his rifle, and he gripped it tightly.

"Allura, what's going on?" Coran asked.

Allura turned back to the controls, her posture straight and sure.

"Don't you see?" she asked, her voice faraway, like it was coming out of a dream. "I'm taking us home, to Altea."

"Lance, what's going on?"

Talin realized that the king had erected a barrier between them and their enemies. When he reached forward with a hand, he found that he could pass through it.

The paladins, though, couldn't. The red one pounded on the shield, yelling, and Talin's lip curled. He'd be the first to go.

He took a step through, raising his gun.

They hesitated, making no move to attack, so Talin took his chance. He fired at the Red Paladin, and the boy yelled as he dove to the ground, the shots missing him.

"Lance, stop this!"

Talin slid his eyes to the Yellow Paladin. His eyes were wide and pleading, and unlike the others, he carried no weapon. He had his hands up.

"Lance, please, listen to me. I'm your best friend, buddy. Remember me? Hunk?"

Talin shivered. He sounded so hurt.

"Hold," he heard someone say distantly. "Don't move. Hunk, keep talking."

Hunk wet his lips, shifting forward slowly as he kept his hands up. Lance reacted to the movement, aiming his gun point-blank at Hunk's chest, and he stopped.

"C'mon, Lance. I know you're in there. You're my friend."

"You're threatening my home," Talin growled.

"That is not your home," Hunk said fiercely. He held his arms out. "You lost your home a long time ago, Lance. But… you have one here, too. With us."

His gun shook in his hands, and Talin stumbled back through the barrier as if it could protect him from the words, too. He turned to face King Alfor and found his gun still raised. There was an ugly feeling overcoming him, an uneasiness that wouldn't leave him.

"You would turn on your king?" howled King Alfor. He dissipated and reappeared in front of Talin, eyes a sickly yellow.

"No," said Talin lowly, but his voice was weak and his hands unsteady. His gun shivered in his grip. "Of course not, Majesty…"

"You are not worthy of Voltron."

"Shut up," said Talin fiercely. "That's not true. I… I didn't…"

"But you did!" King Alfor cried. "Am I not dead because of you? Did my people not fall because of you?"

"No," Talin moaned, but he was crumbling into dust, falling apart at the seams. There was a soft touch on his shoulder; Allura put her hand on his arm, her expression wistful.

"I'm taking us home, Talin," she said. "Don't you want to go home?"

That uneasy feeling returned when Talin looked back out towards Altea, deep blue, surrounded by her three mech-rings.

They'd land the Lions on the third ring – the moment Lance stepped out, Blue would be whisked away to be cleaned, checked, and pampered. He'd say a small goodbye and run to the Castle – well, the part of it that stayed behind, anyway. There, his family would be waiting with open arms to welcome him home.

"Of course I do," Talin said, staring at Altea. For a moment, it seemed to flicker, to warp and change. His stomach twisted. "Allura, I think… I think something's wrong."

"Wrong?" she echoed. Altea flickered again.

"I will forgive you," said King Alfor, joining them on Lance's other side. "Join us, Talin. We can rid this universe of the Galra – and we will, after we have gone home."

He held out his hand, and his face was kinder, now. A chill travelled down his spine, but Talin ignored it.

"Talin," he said again, "come."

King Alfor was so promising, so sure; Talin reached for his hand. He would be forgiven for what he'd done…

Taking the memory's hand was like touching ice – or maybe that was just him. He suddenly felt very cold, like he'd just plunged into the water during winter.

King Alfor clasped his hand; his touch felt wrong. It wasn't a wrong in that King Alfor wasn't truly there, but something far darker, tainted. Talin felt like he'd just touched a jukoli flower – a mistake he'd made once. The flowers were poisonous, far deadlier than they first appeared.

"Are you alright?" asked Allura as he recoiled, taking a step backward. His bayard clattered to the ground, changing from a gun back to its original form once it left his grip.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Wrong, this was all wrong—

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG—

Those weren't his thoughts. Talin struggled, caught between King Alfor and Allura and this new voice, strange but familiar.

"Blue?"

The moment he recognized her, the wall between them shattered. Blue tore into his mind, her presence cutting through the haze that had fallen over him. She roared, and he let her merge her mind with him.

He could see. They could see.

They stared at the planet before them – no, they thought, not a planet but a star. Fire danced on its surface, and they watched as it flared brighter, the flames waiting to devour them.

King Alfor moved in front of them, and everything flickered again. There— there was Altea, there, in front of him. Talin shook his head, his brows creasing as he tried to make sense of it.

He lifted a hand to press to his temples, a headache blooming on the forefront of his mind, and paused, staring at his fingers.

LANCE.

Talin—

LANCE.

Lance?

YOU ARE LANCE.

I am?

LOOK, MY PALADIN. SEE.

Lance blinked; this time, it wasn't the illusion that King Alfor had created that had fallen away – it was King Alfor himself. Where he should have been light was now cloaked in shadows, all of them a deep black that almost looked purple.

This wasn't King Alfor. This wasn't the king he'd known, the king he would have rode to the mouth of hell for. This was— this is someone else entirely… something else.

King Alfor turned his eyes back onto Lance. He seemed to know what Lance could see and surged forward, wrapping his hands around Lance's throat.

"Let him go!"

"Alfor, what are you doing?"

"Traitor," said King Alfor, squeezing tighter and making stars dance across Lance's vision. Blue roared as he strained, trying to get air. "If you are of no use to your king, so be it."

He was tossed back; Lance slammed into something hard and cried out as electricity raced through his body.

"You," gasped Lance, "are not my king."

His throat burned where not-Alfor had grasped it. Lance still couldn't seem to catch his breath; he moaned, pushing himself up on his hands in a desperate bid to get up and fight.

"Allura," said not-Alfor smoothly, his voice as calm as the waters' surface on a quiet day. "Do not listen to any of them. They are here to stop us."

"Yes, Father," Allura said. "Don't worry."

He tried to get up again, pain sparking in his body with every movement. His bayard— it was right there. If he could reach it…

The others were pounding on the shield that not-Alfor had created, but Lance knew they couldn't get through it. Only he could stop them.

"Lance, get up!"

It was so hard. It was so, so hard; Lance reached with trembling fingers to touch his throat. His lungs burned with every short breath, and his vision was already dimming.

In the background, Blue's roaring began to sound like the waves. He'd always loved the ocean, had always said he had saltwater running through his veins. He'd grown up by the water, never once fearing the power of the waves. He'd never had to, not with his mother.

Was this what drowning felt like? He'd never known, had never been scared of his lungs filling with water. It was as terrifying as Lance had ever imagined – dark and cold; a deceptively-close surface above him that he would never break though; the slow realization that he had failed.

"Lance, dammit, get up!"

He dragged himself forward, scrambling for his bayard, but it was kicked out of his reach. Lance fell backwards, not-Alfor coming to stand in front of him.

"You think a gun can stop me?"

Not-Alfor towered over him; his eyes flashed a yellow that reminded Lance of Haggar's eyes. Haggar, a master Druid, who he'd met long before any of his fellow paladins, who had given him—

His lungs filled suddenly with air.

Not-Alfor wasn't just a memory anymore. With the help of the virus that still ran through the Castle, he had become into something that was a ghost of who he'd been, able to do things no memory core should have been able to. This was quintessence – not pure, like the Lions', but tainted.

Everything in his body screamed for him not to move, but Lance bared his teeth in a terrible smile.

He didn't need to look to know that light was flaring from his hands, pooling at his fingers. Lance pressed both his hands to the barrier, and the tips of his fingers glowed as the barrier shuddered.

Once, twice, energy rippling across the surface. And then it shattered, and Lance fell forward, coughing.

"Allura, stop this!" Coran yelled, running forward. "It's not real!"

"I've got you," a voice murmured, and there was Hunk, kneeling beside him. "I've got you, Lance. It's alright."

"Of course it is," not-Alfor purred, stepping around Coran. He pressed a juniberry flower into Allura's hand. "Don't you see?"

"But where is the fragrance of the sweet juniberries?" Coran asked, eyes flashing. "It's not real, Allura. Wake up."

Allura's eyes were unfocused. She took a deep breath as Lance held his.

"This…"

She turned to face her father.

"When that star goes supernova, it will destroy the entire system. Allura, you must reset the course and get us out of here!" Pidge shouted.

Allura was shaking her head. She gripped not-Alfor's arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Father, stop this," she pleaded. There was horror on her face as the glow of the star painted her silver hair red. "Turn this ship back. If you don't, we will all perish."

Not-Alfor seemed to soften. There was love written in his face — twisted love, Lance saw, but love nonetheless.

"I know," he said. "That is my intention."

Allura gasped sharply. "Why…?"

"Zarkon has been ruling for 10,000 years, daughter," he said, taking her face in his hands. "You cannot win."

"That's not true," Shiro shouted. "We will."

"We have to fight," Allura said.

"For what? Altea is destroyed. You don't have to fight anymore, Allura." He gestured at the burning star. "You can join me in the stars at last. The rest of our people. They are all waiting for you."

Allura shook her head.

"They would want me to fight." She lifted her head, chin trembling, as she said, "So I will not stop. I have trust in my paladins—we will defeat Zarkon."

Allura put a hand over not-Alfor's heart. "Surely, Father," she whispered. "Somewhere in there, you want that."

Lance saw the moment when he rippled, when the quintessence brightened.

"Allura," Alfor said. "Daughter…"

He turned to Lance, and their eyes met. Hunk helped Lance when he sat up straighter, trying to crawl to his feet.

"You know what must be done."

"I… yes," Lance said.

Alfor flickered again.

"Allura!" Lance shouted, struggling to stand. "You have to disconnect the power source! His AI is corrupted."

"Go, Princess," Coran urged, and Allura gathered her skirts, running forwards.

"We can stroll across the Blossom Canyon every morning, just like we used to. Remember how much you loved that?"

"Yes, Father," Allura said softly. "I remember. I have to go to the holodeck to disconnect the source manually."

Coran's eyes widened.

"Then we will lose King Alfor forever," he cried.

Allura straightened.

"Paladins, to your Lions," she commanded. She was still poised to leave the room, her back facing towards them. "Slow the Castle if you can."

"Don't do this," not-Alfor warned. Instead of facing Allura, he turned to Lance, stopping in front of him. "If you do this, my memories and my knowledge will be lost forever… but I will not be the only one."

Am'lei reappeared, her face carefully blank.

"No," Lance sobbed. He stretched a hand out to touch her, and Am'lei indulged him, linking their fingers together. She felt so real.

Then she knelt so they could see eye to eye.

"Anam," she said, looking into his soul.

"Anam," Lance sighed.

Her expression softened. It was her—really, really her.

"Let me go, Lance," she said.

Lance looked up and found Allura watching, hesitant. The others had already gone to their hangars; when he glanced out the windows, he saw the Lions pressing against the Castle, delaying their collision.

"Go, Allura," he said, and Lance found his voice raw. "Hurry."

"We don't have long," Am'lei said, running her fingers over his face. Her quintessence pulsed brightly, and Lance fed hers with his, keeping the darkness at bay.

There was so much he needed to say and not enough time to share.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "Am'lei… I couldn't… I'm sorry."

Am'lei cupped his face. "Lance, it wasn't your fault. You have to be strong."

"I know," he whispered. "It's hard."

"Hunk was right," she said. "You have a home here. You have to keep fighting. We'll see each other again."

"One day," Lance said, searching her face and drinking her in. She looked like he remembered, strong and kind, nothing like the empty body he'd held that night so long ago.

"One day," Am'lei promised, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "But not today."

There was nothing Lance could tell her now that she didn't know—that he missed her, that he loved her, that this was goodbye.

"I never told you," he whispered. Am'lei met his eyes. "Thank you. You did so much for me. Taught me so much. And you loved me through it all… so thank you."

Lance shuffled back, his body flaring in pain.

"Goodbye, Am'lei," he said.

She smiled, her eyes sad but clear. "Goodbye, Lance."

The Castle stopped. Light raced through the room, and the corrupted quintessence that had infected the Castle disappeared. When he blinked, his vision blurred by tears, Am'lei was gone, too.

Coran knelt at the console.

"She did it," he said.

"She did it," Lance choked.

Allura swept back in the room. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she walked over to Lance and held out a hand. He took it.

"Princess," he said.

"Lance," she replied, voice shaking. "Paladins, back to your hangars. I'm going to open a wormhole. We're getting out of here."

"You saved us… I'm sorry, Princess," he said softly. To give up her father…

Her smile was sad. "I'm sorry, too, Lance."

Lance's lips lifted in response.

His body still hurt, but Lance found himself able to move, stretching out. He snatched his bayard from the floor, groaning.

The other paladins were back in a minute. Shiro crossed over to Allura.

"I'm sorry about your father, Princess," he said, and Lance took a step back so he could fade in the background. His chest was aching with loss, and he wasn't sure he wanted any more apologies.

"We all are," Hunk piped up.

Keith made his way through the room to stand next to Lance. He brushed their shoulders together, and Lance took the comfort for what it was.

"That wasn't my father," Allura said, holding her head high. "The real King Alfor was a great king and an even greater father. I may have lost him, but his dream lives on—through us. His legacy is Voltron."

Coran stepped up, looking like Allura's words had woken something in him.

"We will keep fighting," he said. "For him, and for all those we have lost."

"And so no one else will be," Keith added.

Lance felt his heart begin to glow with hope as he looked around the room at the others' faces and their determination. He let his heart ache for another moment longer and then hardened it with his own determination.

He thought of Am'lei, and then thought of all the people he'd lost. His team. His parents, Celia, and Ren. The friends he'd made on and off the battlefield.

Lance would see them all again one day—but long after Zarkon was gone.

For now, he would keep fighting.