Hi! New fic after a long time of not writing anything. All chapters will be posted at once so you can binge it if you like. Enjoy!

Rating is mainly due to some graphic violence in the first chapter, but after that things are pretty PG, I think.

"For the last time, Paladin," Dumber's face was only a few inches away from his; Lance nearly coughed at the stench of the Galra's breath. "Where d'ye keep the Lions?"

Lance sighed and flexed his wrists under the metal cuffs strapping them to the chair. "Dude, you told me it was 'the last time' like ten times already. I'm starting to think you two have a short-term memory loss, and in that case, nothing I say will make any difference because you won't be able to remember it, so why not just let me – "

Dumber smacked him across the face before he could finish his sentence. Lance groaned, his already-abused cheek burning with newfound agony. His ears rang from the force of the hit and he could already feel the all-too-familiar taste of metal in his mouth. The two Galra who had captured him may not be too brilliant, but they definitely knew how to land a blow. Apparently they were making up in muscle what they lacked in brain, and although there were no mirrors on the small ship, Lance was certain his face looked more or less like a squashed eggplant by now.

And yet, he felt quite lucky that making him their personal punching bag was all they did. When he was first captured, he was terrified out of his mind – one look at Shiro's arm was enough to realize what the Galra were capable of doing to their prisoners. But his current captors – Lance didn't catch their names, so he simply called them Dumb and Dumber – were piloting a small cargo ship that seemed to lack any of the high-tech-super-creepy-tools-for-human-experiments their Empire was so fond of. So, until they reached a higher command ship – Lance truly hoped his team would get him before that happened - they had to work with what they had to try and milk the Blue Paladin for information: their fists.

Now, their fists hurt. Lance had already developed a throbbing headache from all the blows he'd taken to his jaw and temples, and the ringing in his ears had also become permanent at some point. And while they mostly kept his arms and ankles chained to the chair in the improvised interrogation room they set up in one of the ship's storage units, sometimes they threw him to the floor and kicked him in the abdomen, so he had his nasty collection of bruises on that area as well. He also suspected a cracked rib or two as breathing too deeply was accompanied by a sharp pain under his chest.

But that was all it was. There were no needles shoved in his veins, no electric shocks, no druid magic to mess up his mind (and for that he was thankful, because Quiznak these guys were scary). The two Galra were clearly able to capture him out of sheer luck; after all, it's not like every day you meet a Paladin of Voltron who happens to be on a routine sample-collecting mission on the same planet you are currently visiting, who is miles away from his Lion because he'd gone too deep into the jungle and gotten completely lost, and whose body is submerged to his chest when you find him because of course he had to stumble into a swamp, those fucking jungles, and of course he couldn't call for help because his helmet was strapped to his waist, which was currently buried under layers of dirt.

The thing was, they didn't really know what to do with him until they steered their ship out of this galactic wilderness: on the one hand, they had to keep him in decent shape so Central Command would have something to negotiate for with the other Paladins; on the other hand, they had to break his spirit a little – they couldn't treat a Paladin of Voltron like a guest of honor and deliver him to Zarkon all pampered and content, could they? And extracting valuable information from him, like the location of the Lions or the plans of his team, was just what they needed to get promoted from their position as lowly cargo pilots. As a former cargo pilot himself, Lance could almost relate to that. Almost.

So they took away his armor and bayard (but since they didn't have any prisoner uniform, they let him keep his undersuit, thank God) and locked him in this room and asked him the same questions over and over and when he refused to cooperate, they simply hit him until they had enough – or, more often, since they didn't have anything better to do at this place, until he passed out. It wasn't exactly picnic at the park, but Lance knew it could be much, much worse.

So he sucked it up and waited for a rescue. He wasn't sure how long he's been here – it was hard to keep track of time when he kept fading in and out of consciousness – but he was about ninety-five percent sure it hasn't been more than a day or two, two and a half at most. He could last this long. They didn't give him any food – although the nausea he felt almost constantly from all the punches to his head and stomach suppressed his appetite anyway – but they did give him water every now and then, so at least he wasn't dehydrated. All things considered, he was fine.

He just needed to wait a little longer, and his friends would come for him. He trusted them on that.

Lance just managed to re-focus on Dumber's snarling face when Dumb appeared at the door. "Did he tell ye anything?" he asked, voice raw and grating like sandpaper.

"No," Dumber growled and cracked his neck several times. "But I'll make sure he spills out the good stuff soon enough."

Lance would have rolled his eyes had his head not hurt so badly. There is no way these two don't share a single brain.

"Sorry, but it'll have te wait," Dumb said. He looked nervous. "Radar just spotted a particle storm on TAZ-19X. We need te change course if we don't wanna get sucked in."

Lance had no idea what TAZ-19X was, but he assumed it was a planet they'd just passed by. And since the last thing he wanted was to get stuck on a planet with a particle storm with these two, he truly hoped Dumber would leave him alone for the time being and go steer them out of the danger zone. The more time he could earn without getting hit, the better.

Fortunately, Dumber seemed to be on the same page, though the disappointment from not being able to throw some more punches at the Blue Paladin was evident in his yellow eyes. "Alright, I'm coming," he said. "Don't worry, Paladin, once we set a new course I'm gonna come back and we can play some more."

"Cool, I'll get the snacks," Lance muttered.

"No one's going to play with anyone," said a third voice. A familiar voice.

Both Dumb and Dumber barely managed to turn around before Dumb was hit on the head with what seemed like the flat side of a sword. He collapsed to the floor like a potato sack and remained there, unmoving. Dumber roared furiously and lunged at the mysterious attacker. There was a wooshing sound, a red flash, and before Lance could even blink, Dumber released an agonized scream as the same sword impaled him right through the chest. His scream quickly died down into a wet gurgle as the blade was pulled out of his body, and he fell next to his partner, glazed eyes staring right at Lance. Dark, bluish blood instantly started to ooze from the hole in his back.

Oh God, the sight was not helping Lance's nausea at all. He fought to swallow back bile and tore his eyes off the body to take a better look at his savior.

Keith ran a hand through his hair as his bayard disappeared back into the armor. He had a small bag tied to his waist, and considering the homicide he'd just committed, he looked rather calm. Well, that was Keith for you. "You alright?" he asked, businesslike as always.

"Never been better," Lance said, his voice higher than intended. He cleared his throat. "What, only you came to save my ass? No entourage? That's kind of hurtful, I mean, I am a Paladin."

"Pidge is outside. We used the cloaking ability of the Green Lion to avoid detection," Keith elegantly stepped around the fallen Galra as he approached Lance. He eyed the chair for a second and pressed the comm button on his helmet. "Hey Pidge, I've got Lance but they put some kind of electric cuffs on him, can you neutralize them remotely?"

"I'm offended you even asked that," Lance heard Pidge's voice through the comms. There were some distant typing and beeping sounds, and then all four cuffs opened at once. "Voilà."

"Great. Thanks." Keith examined Lance as the latter carefully stretched and flexed his limbs, which have been immobile for so long. Lance detected a hint of concern in the Red Paladin's eyes; well, if Keith was worried, then Lance's face must have been in worse shape than he thought. It was probably all swollen and dirty and tinted different shades of purple.

"It looks like they really did a number you," Keith said, confirming Lance's suspicion. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I don't think they broke anything." Lance stood up slowly, careful not to sway. He tried to inhale and made a face as familiar pain pierced his ribs. "Maybe cracked some ribs… but other than that, I'm okay, thanks for asking, Pidge!" he yelled the last couple of words into Keith's helmet, sending the other boy jumping backwards.

Pidge snorted. "Welcome back, Lance. Took us long enough to track you down."

"You can make it up to me by letting me beat you on our next game night."

"You wish!"

"Can we go already?" Keith asked wearily. "Before the other guy wakes up. I don't for how long the blow to his head can keep him unconscious."

"Wait!" Lance suddenly remembered. "I need to find my armor and bayard!"

Keith touched the bag on his waist. "Already have them. They'd locked everything up in a safe, but it took Pidge about ten seconds to breach the code."

Lance's cheeks warmed as he realized just how easy it was for Keith and Pidge to rescue him. They didn't even need the Lions except for Green, and Keith had managed to kill one of his captors before Lance even became aware of his presence.

How come he couldn't do anything to rescue himself? Was he really that useless?

Oblivious to Lance's thoughts, Keith handed him his helmet. "Put this on so you won't suffocate when we step outside," he said. "I don't think there's a point in putting your entire armor, because judging by the way you look, you're going inside a pod right away. We'll use my jetpack to get to Green, and then it's about fifteen minutes until we reach the Castle. They wanted to stay out of this ship's radar, you see."

"Sounds good." Lance placed the helmet over his aching head and glanced one last time at the two Galra sprawled on the floor. There wasn't much they could do for Dumber at this point, but Dumb will eventually wake up… and Lance couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy when he thought about him waking up to see his friend's dead body lying next to him.

Lance shut his eyes forcefully. No. These two were the bad guys. They captured him and starved him and kicked him around nonstop for more than a day. They showed him no pity or compassion and there was no reason for him to treat them any differently.

He and Keith entered Green's cockpit just as Pidge finished updating the Castle about their status. She turned to look at them and her eyes nearly popped out when she saw Lance. "Whoa. I've never seen so much purple on a human's skin, " she said. "Isn't Keith supposed to be half-Galra?"

"I missed you too, Pidge," Lance sank to sit on the floor, feeling exhausted and dizzy all of a sudden. The adrenaline from being rescued by his team had apparently worn off, and every inch of his body felt sore and heavy. He was definitely sleep deprived – he doubted blacking out from excessive beating every few hours could be considered sleep.

He hated the cryopods, yet he couldn't wait to go inside one.

His eyes just began to droop when the Green Lion was pulled violently by an unknown force and he rolled on his side, all but crashing against the opposite wall of the small cockpit. He could hear the other paladins' yells, and caught the sight of Pidge's hands frantically flailing over the unresponsive controls when there was another pull, harder than the first one, and the Green Lion started to swirl in a sickening pace. Lance thought he might throw up, but lucky for him, his helmet quickly hit the bottom of the Lion's console, and while it was sturdy enough to prevent his head from splitting open, everything went dark before he could even open his mouth to scream.