Hunk hated suspense. In movies, in books, even when his friends were telling him a story. He needed to know how everything ended. Was it a happy ending? Did everyone live? Did things turn out well? Suspense killed him, and that was largely attributed to the fact that he could not sit still and wait for something to happen. So, the fact that Lance had been unconscious for three days really drove him crazy. He wanted to talk to his friend, wanted to laugh at stupid jokes and pull pranks on Keith and Shiro and just wanted to be with him. But he wanted him to be awake for it. Sitting by his healing pod for hours on end drove Hunk crazy, but he still did it. Why? Because Lance was his friend, and Lance always drove him crazy, so in a way, this was normal.

"He looks so fragile," Hunk noted to Allura, who sat across from him, her hand gently, hesitantly, touching the glass.

She nodded, her face cut in the expression of someone who needed to cry but didn't want anyone to see them do so. With her free hand, she ran her fingers above where the marks that cut deeply across his right temple, ran through the edge of his eyebrow, and ended at his cheekbone.

"He'll always have these," She said, a hint of sadness fringing her rich voice.

"Yeah, but knowing Lance, he'll probably say something about how they make him look really tough and cool," Hunk told her. If there was anything he hated more than waiting, it was watching those he cared about hurt and worry.

A smile graced her lips, and a small laugh escaped, unbidden.

"I wonder how much food they gave him," Allura voiced, returning back to Hunk's earlier comment.

"Not much, by the look of him. I mean, the guy was always skinny, but now...he's practically a skeleton," Hunk replied, a rush of anger flushing through him as he remembered the way Lance had looked on that operation table. Wires stuck to his skin, completely restrained, complexion ghoulish, and a face so distant and cold that for a horrible tick, Hunk thought that they were too late.

When Lance had opened his eyes, the same blue eyes that had looked at the world with wonder and excitement, when Hunk had seen how hopeless and hollow they now were, he didn't know what to do. What could those ocean eyes have seen that had effectively emptied and fractured them? Hunk didn't know if he truly wanted to find out the truth.

"How's Lance doing?" Shiro asked, entering the room with Pidge and Keith.

"The same as he's been," Hunk replied unenthusiastically.

"He looks better," Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose and inspected Lance's face closely.

Hunk wasn't sure what she was looking for, but he wasn't about to ask.

"Remember, when he wakes up, he won't be the same as before," Shiro told them solemnly.

Hunk recalled the other times Shiro had told them this, but every time before, he hadn't really believed it. This was Lance! Goofy, ridiculous, at times thick-headed, funny, caring Lance. He didn't change. But the more Hunk thought about it, the more he realized that he'd been wrong. He couldn't help thinking of all the times Lance had had an opportunity to flirt with someone, and he didn't. Or all the times he'd stepped up, accepting Keith as leader, being a compass for the team, consoling others. And that was before he'd been imprisoned by sadistic Galrans. Maybe Lance had changed already, and no one cared enough to notice. Those ponderings scared Hunk more and more each time he thought of them, making him wonder just who his friend had become.

"What if it's not Lance at all?" Hunk's mouth moved before he could stop it. "I mean, what if they did the same thing to Lance as what they did to Shiro? What if this guy's a clone, and the real Lance is…" Hunk realized that he couldn't even complete the sentence, not in his head, and definitely not out loud. "I mean, just a thought."

Hunk sank down in his seat, hoping that the team would stop looking at him like he had three eyes.

"Hunk has a point," Pidge announced, never one to hold back her opinion.

"I think it's Lance," Keith combatted, "A clone wouldn't be so annoying."

Hunk had great difficulty restraining the eye roll that Keith's comment elicited. Everyone knew that Keith and Lance were friends now, and even Lance had dropped the whole "rivalry" thing. But it wasn't Keith's nature to be sentimental, in words anyway, so Hunk ignored what his mouth said and focused on his body language. Yep. He was definitely brooding about Lance still being in a coma. Shifting his attention to Shiro, Hunk observed the way their old leader stood, with his fingers supporting his chin and his shoulders slouched in concentration.

"We'll have to find out when he wakes up. We can't jump to any conclusions or assumptions before we have a good chance to talk to him."

"Of course," Allura agreed, her eyes returning to Lance's face.

"I'm surprised that they didn't remove one his limbs or something, like what they did to Shiro," Pidge noted, poking Lance's left arm, as if she wasn't sure that it was real.

"It was different for me," Shiro replied, lowering himself slowly into a nearby chair. "Back then, I wasn't a Paladin of Voltron, so I wasn't as important to them as Lance was. But, it's pretty obvious they did other things to him that they didn't do to me."

Hunk shuddered as he remembered the brutal scars that he'd seen on Lance's skin when they'd changed him out of his stiff and blood covered clothes. What did they do, dissect him? The words had fallen from Hunk's lips like a waterfall, more of a way to deal with his shock than a proper question. But, he would never forget the sorrowful look that Shiro had cast him.

It's more than likely.

Hunk had felt nauseous then, and he felt nauseous now. At least, Lance was safe with them, and if Hunk had anything to say about, this would never happen to him, or any of them, again.

"Do you think Lance will tell us anything?" Hunk inquired, nervous for reasons he didn't understand.

"Maybe," Shiro speculated, leaning forward, "But probably not right away. He'll need time to adjust."

"Right, yeah. Of course," Hunk stammered, looking back to his friend, who somehow, even though he was approaching his fourth day of being asleep, looked exhausted.

When Lance woke up, Hunk was asleep. He didn't get to see Lance's eyes open, he didn't even get to hear him speak his first words in four days. Instead, Hunk woke up to someone jabbing his face, and when he jerked upright, he headbutted Pidge.

"Ow, Hunk!" She groaned clutching her forehead.

"Pidge! Sorry, I didn't mean to do that!" Hunk hurried to apologize, hoping that she wasn't in too much pain.

"I know," she assured him through clenched teeth, then, rubbing her temples and shaking her head, she announced, "Lance is awake."

"What?!" Hunk leapt from his bed and started rushing out of his Lion.

"Wait up!" Pidge called, her short legs pumping in order to catch him.

"Y'know, why doesn't this surprise me? The one time I let Shiro talk me into going to bed, Lance wakes up!" Hunk huffed, turning into the healing bay in the Black Lion. Breathing heavily and sweating from his sprint, Hunk's feet slowed as he approached the doorway, a million fears crushing him at once. How different would Lance be? Hunk knew it was ridiculous, that Lance had recognized him when they rescued him, but Hunk couldn't shake the terrifying fear that Lance wouldn't know him. That he wouldn't remember Hunk. Gulping, Hunk had just begun to waver when Pidge barrelled right into him and shoved them both into the room. For a girl who was a third of his size, she was rather strong. The pair almost fell on top of each other as they stumbled forward, both sets of eyes silently berating each other. When they found their balance, they both turned to Lance, who gave them a smile that ghosted his normal one. Hunk felt his stomach drop. This Lance was so different.

So much more delicate.

So much more broken.

"Hey, guys," He tried to make his smile wider, and Hunk felt his heart twinge.

"Lance!" Pidge snapped out of her initial revelry and practically threw her arms around Lance, clinging to him like she finally understood that he was back. Hunk inched closer, watching as tears slid down Pidge's face. He didn't know what to do with his arms. Or his entire body for that matter. He glanced to the other side of the healing pod, where Allura clasped her hands over her mouth and Coran was unashamedly sobbing. Keith lurked in the corner of the room, obviously emotional and confused but pretending he was neither, and Shiro lingered at the edge of the pod, his eyes somehow conveying all of the grief that Hunk felt. Romelle sat in a chair next to Shiro, and Hunk sympathized with how uncomfortable she looked. So, for the first time in a month and a half everyone was there.

"How'd you guys find me?" Lance asked, glancing up from Pidge, his eyes suspicious. In that moment, Hunk realized that even though Lance was clutching Pidge tightly, he was still wary of them. And Hunk didn't know why.

A silence settled over them, as if no one wanted to break the peace of unspoken questions. As if they knew that as soon as they spoke of anything, things could fall apart.

"The Red Lion sent us a signal. We traced it to where Xeris kept his fleet of ships. From there it was just a matter of composing a realistic plan and following it through," Shiro explained, taking on for himself the emotional strain that no one else wanted to carry.

"Xeris?" Lance tilted his head and quirked his right eyebrow. The same one that three angry cuts ran through.

"That was the name of the Commander that captured you," Keith voiced, a strange tone seeping into his voice. "The one that you killed."

A dark, and almost-dare Hunk think it- twisted look flashed across Lance's face, before it was replaced by something much different. Lance gulped and angled his head to look at the right corner of the room as he said, "Good."

No one knew what to say. Hunk didn't think that any of them knew this Lance. And that chilled him. Before he could think about it more, however, as if Lance had flipped a switch in his brain, Lance returned his gaze to them and displayed a real, classic McClain smile.

"Thanks for getting me out of there, though, I don't think they could've taken much more of Lancey Lance," He flaunted, pretending to flex his muscles. He said it as if he had been their tormentor, and not the other way around. The joke worked its magic though, because all of the tension in the room suddenly evaporated, and someone laughed. Then, they were all smiling and talking at once, trying to get Lance's attention and tell him about their long quest to find him. Everyone, that is, but Hunk. He couldn't shake the thought that, even when Lance was the most traumatized and broken, the entire team relied on him to be their emotional compass. And Hunk didn't know what that meant for the near-future for the team.