"There, there," Pidge murmured and rubbed circles around Lance's back while the latter heaved and spat into a trash bin she'd found earlier at the back of her Lion, figuring it would come in handy. "Get it all out." Not that there was too much to get out – she honestly couldn't understand how come Lance kept vomiting considering all he had in his stomach was water. Well, perhaps this was just how illnesses worked.

Lance spat one last time and collapsed back on the cot. His face was completely white under all the bruises, which have already turned more yellow than purple. The sight was quite grotesque.

"Sorry you had to see that," he choked and embraced his injured arm to his nearly-equally-injured chest. Pidge thought she'd never seen someone so miserable, and she wanted to scream with frustration because there was nothing she could do other than sit there and watch her friend suffer. And the endless desert that reflected through the windows only made it harder for her to think straight. Perhaps Hunk and Yellow would have thrived here, being the Guardians of the Earth and all, but Pidge? She took inspiration from the cool, soothing wisdom of the forest, from the endless branches and vinces interwining together like a net of ideas. Had they crushed in the middle of a forest, Green would have probably be awake by now. But all they had was empty sands that made Pidge feel like her brain was emptier than ever. Her only job now was to watch Lance in the unresponsive Lion as Keith had gone out again to look for real food and possible threats. It wasn't a particularly delightful task, and Lance's repetitive apologies – as if getting sick was his fault – were definitely not helping.

Pidge tried to put up her most cheerful smile, though she doubted it was convincing. "Hey, I've seen Hunk puke in our Garrison simulators countless time. It's really not that exciting anymore."

Lance's lower lip trembled, and Pidge wondered whether by mentioning Hunk she somehow made things worse, as Lance has obviously been missing his best friend. She slapped herself mentally. She did not envy anyone who got to be sick and stranded in space with her and Keith – the most emotionally-challenged members of their group.

She tried a different approach. "Hey, remember when I got my first period on the Castle and I was late for training because my stomach hurt? You were really cool about that, gave me your heat pillow and all." She smiled at the memory. Of course, at first she'd been embarrassed to the roots of her hair when she realized Lance knew she was on her period; but once she overcame the initial shock, she found it quite comforting to have a friend she could trust on these things. After all, none of the other boys had any sisters, and Allura tended to get overexcited about any opportunity to have a 'girl talk' with Pidge in a way which made the Green Paladin rather uncomfortable.

Lance frowned, staring at her with unfocused eyes. "Really? I don' remember that… but my brain's all mushy now, so…"

Pidge sighed. Well, she tried. "Anyway, you took real good care of me back then. So consider this me returning the favor, and stop apologizing."

Lance closed his eyes, which Pidge decided to take as a sign of consent. But then a sudden, violent shiver wrecked his body and he whimpered. "C-cold."

"I know, but I can't give you your blankets back, not with that fever." The ice bags Keith and her had placed on Lance's forehead and body had managed to bring his temperature down a bit (the last time she checked it was just over 101). However, at some point the ice started to melt, and she had to put the bags back in the freezer so they could use them again.

Lance cracked his eyes open again. "Then tell me a story," he said, his tone all but pleading. "F-for distraction. Please. Anything."

Pidge tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Let me think… oh, remember I told you yesterday I broke my arm as a kid? Do you want to hear the story behind that?"

Lance hummed.

Pidge leaned back, crossing her arms behind her head. "It happened when I was nine. Matt and I tried to build a 'flying machine'… it was basically a pair of mechanical wings connected to a small engine. We used parts our dad brought from work and worked on it all summer in the back yard."

"Normal kids usually spend their summer at the beach, but whatever," Lance said.

"Anyway, on the last day of the summer vacation, we finally put it to the test," Pidge continued. "Matt wanted to try it first because he was older and wanted to make sure it was safe, but I was too excited to give up. I climbed on the roof of our house, put the wings on and jumped off, expecting the wind to carry me all the way to the edge of the street. I was just dying to see the faces of the other kids when they see my flying over their heads. I even stacked some water bags to throw on them from above."

Lance laughed, wincing as it jarred his wounds. "Oh my gosh, Pidge, you were a such a nasty little girl."

"They deserved it!" Pidge called. "They called me a nerd!"

"Well, you are a nerd!"

Pidge huffed. "Anyway… that didn't go as planned, as you probably guessed. One moment I was on the roof and the next one I was face-planting the grass in our yard. I can still remember Matt's screams… he thought I was dead." The thought of her brother made her chest warm but also pierced it with a pang of longing. How long has it been since she last saw him? A year? Two years? It was hard to track time when you were fighting an intergalactic war.

"How did your parents react?" Lance asked.

"Oh, my mom was furious. I wouldn't be surprised if Matt had his hearing permanently damaged from how she yelled at him. Although it was me who jumped off the roof, he was the older one – he was supposed to watch me and keep me out of danger." But who was watching you when you got kidnapped by the Galra, Matt? A lump formed in Pidge's throat and she struggled to swallow past it. "Dad was also quite shaken when he found out what happened – but I caught him later that night examining the machine we built in the garage. I think he was actually trying to find a way to improve it and make it fly for real." She sighed. "That it, until Mom realized what he was doing and put it in the trash. But hey, I wasn't too upset about what happened – after all, I didn't have to do any schoolwork for a month because I couldn't use my arm. Including sports class, which was the real treat."

Lance rolled his eyes. "My siblings and I have never got hurt doing something smart," he muttered. "We just beat each other up all the time."

"There were five of you, right? I guess it was inevitable."

"Except Veronica," Lance continued as if he hadn't heard her. "She was the smart one. Never got into stupid fights like the rest of us. Which is probably why she became an officer." He stared at the wall for a while as if lost in thought. Then, he smiled sadly. "No one in my family expected me to follow her lead and go to the Garrison. Everyone was so surprised when I got in… they must've thought I was too dumb for that."

"You're not dumb," Pidge quickly protested, and yet her stomach clenched in guilt as she remembered she called Lance dumb as least twice a week. Of course, she didn't actually believe that…

…but she never bothered to tell him that, either.

It seemed like her friendship skills still needed some work.

"Think of how proud they would have been of you if they'd known you were a Paladin of Voltron," she said, determined cheer Lance up. "I mean, the Blue Lion didn't just choose you for no reason."

Lance didn't seem convinced. In fact, Pidge could see the edges of his mouth tremble as he fought to keep his smile in place. "I'm pretty sure she chose me because there was no one else around for like ten thousand years," he said. "It's like how I got promoted to be a fighter pilot only because Keith was kicked out of class. And they didn't kick him out because he was a bad pilot, but because of discipline issues. That doesn't change the fact he's probably still a better pilot than Iverson himself."

Pidge felt a hot wave of rage wash over her at the mention of their former commander. Even if the insults Iverson shot at Lance, Hunk and her were usually justified (after all, they did suck as a team), Lance was usually the one whom he liked to reprimand the most, although he'd never done a worse job than his teammates when it came to group simulators. She knew it wasn't exactly boosting his self-esteem – but she'd never imagined his insecurities ran that deep.

And when she thought about all the times she lashed out at him for nothing…

…she realized she was no better than Iverson.

She needed to fix this.

She might not be able to do much about his illness, but there was no way she was going to let him keep walking (or lying) around with all these negative feelings eating him from the inside.

Not when he was the one who reminded her of her lost brother the most.

"Lance," she said. "You are a great Paladin. I can't even tell how many times you and Blue saved our asses when we were fighting the Galra, not to mention that you can probably hit any target from any point in the universe." She truly meant the last part – although Lance didn't particularly shine in their close combat trainings, he was the best sniper she'd ever seen, and watching him take down a swarm of twenty drones with no more than twenty shots was always mesmerizing.

"But there are so many things that are more important than being the best fighter, or the best pilot," she continued. "Like being kind, and thoughtful, and-and looking out for your friends even if it means risking your own life. Did you forget how you saved Coran from that blast when we were on Arus? We've only been in space for a few days back then – and yet you nearly died for saving someone you've barely known. Unlike me," she said, unable to hold back her bitterness, "who was just about to bail on you guys when the bomb went off."

"You had a good reason," Lance said quietly. "You wanted to find your family."

Pidge shook her head. "I know. But abandoning my other family wasn't the solution, not when there is so much on the line." She let out a humorless laugh. "It's kind of horrible, isn't it? The fact it took a bomb that nearly killed you to make me stop taking you for granted."

It was hard reading Lance's expression at her sudden confession. Pidge felt her cheeks burn, wondering if the last sentence had crossed some line. But then Lance gagged violently and brought his hand to his mouth, and Pidge quickly reached for the trash bin and placed it in Lance's lap.

However, nothing came out this time – not even saliva. Lance dry-heaved and hiccupped a few times, then pushed the bin away, holding his abdomen with his healthy arm. Agony was written all over his face, which was white as chalk - save for his cheeks, which actually went several shades redder than before. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and Pidge feared his fever was spiking again. She'd probably have to fetch those ice bags again soon.

"Sorry," she didn't know what else to say. All this heart-to-heart talk suddenly seemed ridiculous with him in such a miserable state.

"It's not you fault, Rachel," Lance turned to look at her, eyes completely glazed over. "¿Puedes llamar a mamá?"

Pidge felt her stomach dive, leaving a black hole at the center of her body.

What?

She was just about to grab the thermometer when she heard a thud – Keith must have jumped inside through the door at the top of Green's head. He entered the cabin a moment later, staring ahead as if he'd seen a ghost. His pallor was noticeable even in the weak light of the back cabin.

"What happened?" Pidge really couldn't take any more bad news. If Keith was getting sick as well…

Keith plopped onto the floor as there were no chairs in the cabin. "I found the remains of the cargo ship that kidnapped Lance." He closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose. "The other Galra… the one I knocked unconscious… he, uh, he didn't make it."

"Oh." Pidge figured whatever Keith had seen must have not been the prettiest sight, considering how shaken he was, but she did feel immense relief at the fact he was not sick. "Well… I'm sorry, but we have bigger problems right now."

Keith blinked, then turned to look at Lance as if only now realizing he was there. "Did he get any worse?"

"Well, he called me by the name of his sister and spoke to me in Spanish, so that answers your question. I was just about to take his temperature when you came in." Pidge held the thermometer in front of Lance's forehead, cursing when the result popped on the screen a second later. 103.1.

Keith got up, completely alert again. "This is bad," he said. "The sun's already set and the storm doesn't even seem close to an end – we can't keep him in this state for much longer." He was stating the obvious, but Pidge held herself from throwing a sarcastic comeback; he was probably just as scared and helpless as her.

"We can take the ice bags from the freezer," she said. "They helped last time, there's no reason they won't help now." Unless Lance has already gotten so sick nothing would help at this point, she thought and her chest tightened with dread.

Keith nodded. "Alright. I'll take care of that. You can go rest if you like. You've watched him long enough."

"No, I can stay," Pidge said. "It's not like I have anything better to do. Besides, I've been sitting on my ass all day - it can't be more tiring than running around in the desert."

Keith sighed. "If only I found anything useful with all that running around," he said gloomily. "But all I've seen was sand and dust. And dead Galra." He swallowed thickly at the memory.

"Hey, at least we don't have to worry about them seeking for revenge," Pidge said.

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess you're right." He had dark bags under his eyes – Pidge took a mental note to make him go to bed soon. She hoped he didn't suffer a heatstroke; she'd fucking kill him if he did.

Still, she was grateful she had someone to share this stressful situation with. Had she been stuck in here alone with a sick Lance… the mere thought made her shudder.

But even with Keith by her side, rescue could never come any sooner.

Because with Lance only getting sicker and sicker, they were running out of time.