If anyone had been watching that early morning on the fourth quintant of the spring season, they would have noticed no flash of light or crack of thunder announcing her arrival. One tick there was the morning dew and birdsong, the next a small gremlin's screams of terror filled the air as she found herself plummeting toward the earth. Dirt and juniberry flowers flew as the small being made impact, and the songbirds scattered with chirps of alarm and warning. Groaning, Pidge raised her head from the dirt and immediately began to sneeze. She flopped onto her back. "A-Achoo! This is why I don't like the outdoors." She raised her left arm and checked her watch. "I must have forgotten to correct for the variation in orthometric height." Letting her arm fall again, Pidge lay on the ground for a moment, gathering her wits. Finally, she stumblingly rose to her feet, brushing off excess dirt and picking petals out of her hair. Staring at the crumpled juniberry flowers in her hand, she hesitated. Sadness filled her gaze and a disquiet. Her invention had worked. What that would mean for her and the rest of the team was yet to be seen.

With flowers and dirt still clinging to her, Pidge made her way uphill toward the cozy cottage. She couldn't help admiring the beauty and quiet serenity of her surroundings. Lance had picked an ideal place to build his home. Although perhaps a bit quiet for Lance. Feelings of apprehension brushed against her subconscious, but she chased them away with a firm shake of her head. He needed to know, in any case. She had already notified the others, and while they were uneasy about it, they understood this was something she needed to do. For Allura. For science. For Lance. For the Altean people. Some quiet part of her admitted this was for her, too. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she had had a chance to fix what had happened and not taken it.

Steeling her courage, she knocked twice on the cottage's wooden door. There was no response. Pidge knocked again, harder. Still nothing. Rolling her eyes, she walked around to the back door of the house. Sure enough, it was unlocked. Pidge let herself in and walked through the kitchen to the living room. Subtle changes had been wrought since the last time she was there. Dishes from previous meals lay unwashed upon the furniture and floor and the picture of Team Voltron was no longer in its place of prominence on the mantel.

Once upon a time, Pidge was the closest of the remainder of Team Voltron to Lance. After Allura's death, Lance shut everyone out and seldom showed up to group meetings. He turned down multiple offers from Keith, Hunk, and Pidge to join them in their endeavors, or to visit them back on Earth. He'd even refused to see his family, saying it was too painful to see them, because the last time he had had been on his first and only date with Allura. The others had tried for a few months before backing off, deciding Lance needed space. Pidge, however, wouldn't take no for an answer.

With a sigh, Pidge recalled the argument they had had when Pidge had last visited, a few weeks ago. She had invited him to come back to the Galaxy Garrison to help her and Matt teach the upcoming students how to fly the new MPJs. He spent all of his time grounded nowadays. Pidge remembered how much he used to love flying and hoped that this would help him adjust to life after the loss of Allura. But Lance wasn't ready to move on yet. He accused Pidge of trying to make him forget Allura and with tears in his eyes exclaimed that he would live the rest of his life dedicated to Allura's memory, even if it meant all of his friends left him. Frustrated beyond belief, Pidge had yelled back that he underestimated his friends if he thought they were going to let that happened. Lance had retaliated with "Maybe we shouldn't be friends then!" and slammed the door in her face. "Lance, you idiot!" she cried, ramming her fist into the wall. "I'm not giving up on you!" Now, looking around, Pidge wondered if she should have pushed him that far. The fight seemed to have pushed him further into his dejection. She wouldn't have pushed, but had really wanted Lance to come back to the Garrison. The Holts had nearly finished work on their new top-secret project custom fit for Pidge. She had wanted Lance to be there, to understand what she was doing and why. But now, thinking about the awkward conversation that was to follow, she wondered if it had been worth it. His last memories of her before she left were not going to be that fight, but the lingering effects of it would be pulled into this meeting.

Walking over to Lance's bedroom door, she knocked on it softly. "Lance, are you up?" There was no response, but she didn't expect one. Lance had always been a sleep in in the morning sort of person, and he had a lengthy morning routine. The sight of his masked and cucumbered face had caused a few screams of fright back in the day from Allur- the Alteans, unused to confronting green humans with sightless eyes first thing in the morning. Pidge got to work cleaning miscellaneous objects and dishes off of the floor and couches, and by the time Lance's door opened to reveal a yawning Lance en verte, the house was on its way back to cleanliness. "Good morning!" she said brightly. Lance tripped over backward, slamming into the wall, "Aaaugh! Pidge? What are you doing here?" As he remembered the last time he saw Pidge, he cleared his throat, voice dropping to a normal level as he narrowed his eyes, "Why are you here?"

"Lance, I…" Pidge found it difficult to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard to come back with me to the Garrison or showed up unannounced like this." She turned back to the sink and stared at her reflection in the water, her stomach coiling in knots. Silence came from the wall Lance leaned against. More than anything, this conversation mustn't end badly. "The truth is, I was being selfish the last time I was here. It wasn't just for your sake that I wanted you back at the Garrison." The silence became more alert. "We had been developing this new prototype for a deep cover mission, and it was almost complete. Once it was completed, I was supposed to leave immediately." She absentmindedly polished a spoon as she spoke, running the dishrag over its dull silver surface. "We've been sworn to secrecy on what it is and what it does. Also, what the mission is, where we're going, and so on. I can't tell you anything and I was hoping, if you were there, you would be given clearance and we could talk about it and what to do with the device, but you didn't come." Her hands stopped as she gazed downward, biting her lip. "You didn't come, and now I have to go." Lance, having walked up to her, reached down and took the spoon and rag from her hands. Setting them on the counter, he pulled Pidge in a hug.

She leaned into him and broke, wrapping her arms around his middle and sobbing. "Lance, I wanted to tell you! I- I- really… But I couldn't, and then we had that fight, and I couldn't tell you why I was so upset and now it's too late!" "Pidge…" Lance's heart went out to the obviously distraught girl. He didn't get why this mission was different from any other, but if it upset Pidge, something big must be happening. For a moment, a ripple of unease swept through him. What had he been missing? But just as quickly he shook it off. Life would go on with or without his intervention. Pidge didn't need him. No one did anymore. He gently held the young paladin as she shook with sobs, feeling bleak. Slowly, Pidge began to regain control of herself. She squeezed Lance before letting him go.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Pidge."

But as he stepped back, he wouldn't quite meet her gaze. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Do you want some coffee or something?"

Pidge wasn't sure what he was thinking, but they needed to have this conversation. "Yeah, sure, that'd be great."

After some time, Lance and Pidge were settled down at the table with steaming cups of coffee. After sipping in companionable silence for a bit, Lance set down his mug and entered questioning mode.

"So, if you were supposed to leave right away, how are you here? I mean, I'm glad you came, but…"

"The main people in the Garrison who know about the project are my family and a few higher up bureaucrats we know we can trust. They mostly agreed that I need to inform the previous members of Voltron, mainly so they don't panic and rally a galaxy-wide army to find me. There's a few aliens involved, but they also agreed to let me do this, mostly because they think I might need it, which is scarier than imagining you guys leading an army."

"Wait, technically didn't we already do that?"

"Fair point, but that was universe saving. Single human saving would require way more charisma."

"So what you're saying is I could lead an army, but not, say, Keith."

Pidge grinned. "Technically Keith is the leader of the Blade, but whichever army, it's not like you'd find me anyway."

Lance pouted. "You don't seem to have much faith in my army mastery skills. I would find you way sooner than Hot-headed Mullet would."

Pidge crossed her arms and tipped her chair back. "Nah, deep cover means deep cover, and if I don't want to be found, you won't find me. I wasn't able to tell you anything about the project before it was completed because people might be listening, but now that it's done I think I might have a way of showing you."

She flashed him a quick grin before fiddling with her watch – since when did Pidge have a watch? Pidge instructed Lance to hold his hand on top of the watch face. The watch emitted a glowing beam that scanned his hand before making a beeping noise and returning to its normal state. "What did it just do?" "The device just recognized you. Now we should be able to leave." Grabbing his hand in her watch hand, she pressed a few buttons in sequence and the room began to brighten uncomfortably. "Here we go!"

Lance felt like he was being pushed underwater, far underwater. Everything became dark and the pressure was immense. He felt…things rushing by and he bumped into and was pulled over large dark objects, carried by some overwhelming frenetic current. Lance was a swimmer and a fairly good swimmer at that. Having grown up on the coast of Cuba, he knew that water could be unforgiving and ruthless, but also fun and even relaxing if one could predict or control it correctly. This water was not fun or relaxing, but it might still be survivable if he could find the surface. Lance began kicking and pulling at the water only to find… no effect. The water wasn't moved at all and neither was he. It was like he was the water. With that Lance resigned himself to a slow death. He gradually became aware of a tugging on his arm, consistent and not in the direction of the current. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small glowing yellow dot. He squinted. The dot twinkled but remained in existence. He leaned closer and closer until he found himself falling out of the air into the unknown.