A/N:

Hi! Sorry that I haven't updated in a while! I used a scene from episode 10 of season 7, though I made a couple adjustments to the scene, just so it flows better with this story. I don't know why, but this chapter was incredibly hard to write and I sat for roughly forty minutes stressing over how I was going to start it and how I wanted to write it. Thankfully, I managed to pull it together, and I hope you like it!

Be on the lookout for the next chapter, because it will be the last one.

Thank you to everyone who reads my story and enjoys it! You have no idea how much it means to me. Every new review, follower, and favorite encourages me, and I cannot express how grateful I am for all of you.

I hope you have a good day!

Lance wasn't sure if the Red Lion was ignoring him blatantly or if he was just completely incapable of reaching her. Ever since he and Veronica had left the highly stressed Garrison, Lance's entire focus had centered around calling the Red Lion to him. However, Lance's brain could only focus on the awful doubts and worries bouncing around his skull like firecrackers. Scrunching his eyes as if he could close them anymore than they already were, Lance grimaced and tried to push the nagging, perpetual thoughts from his mind. Unfortunately, that seemed to amplify them.

What if she never answers?

What if she doesn't come?

What if I fail the team?

Everyone will die if she doesn't respond. And it will be my fault.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and trickled down his neck, the sensation another distraction to his mind. Suddenly, as if the feeling of cold sweat rolling down his back triggered all of his senses, Lance became hyper aware of everything around him. The air smelled of disinfectant and anxiety mixed with a faint artificial lemon scent that only an air freshener could produce. Equipment rattled around him, and Lance felt every slight jounce and jostle as his transportation navigated the dry terrain. A rock under a wheel or a slight course correction felt like a major adjustment at an extreme velocity. Contradicting his cracked and moistureless lips, Lance's mouth filled with a metallic, warm taste, not far from the familiar taste of blood. And the noise. The noise was the worst of it. The thrum of the engine. The rumble of the terrain against the wheels. Nervous, heavy breathing that rasped against his ears like sandpaper.

And that incessant tapping. Over and over again, it never relented, stubbornly repeating its insanity inducing rhythm.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Polluting Lance's mind like static, the tapping drilled its pounding cadence into every inch of his cerebrum, until he couldn't even remember if he was breathing.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

For the moment, Lance gave up all pretense of trying to contact the Red Lion, and he shot open his eyes.

"Would you stop that, Veronica?!" Lance snapped in aggravation, startling his sister.

Her index and middle fingers paused, poised in the air above the steering wheel. Slowly and silently, she lowered her fingers and spared Lance a brief glance.

"What's wrong? Did you contact the Red Lion?" She wondered, eyes returning to the route before her.

"Nothing's wrong," Lance replied defensively, though he couldn't stop himself from muttering quietly, "Yet."

"Yet?! What does that mean?" She demanded, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"Nothing's wrong," Lance repeated, for his own sake more than Veronica's.

"Hmm," she grunted skeptically, but Lance was already trying to recenter his focus.

If he could reach the Red Lion, everything would be fine. All he had to do was call her to him. He'd done that hundreds of times before, right? Well, now that he thought about it…no, he hadn't done it very much at all. But, he couldn't let his doubts cloud his mind. Not now. Especially not now.

Come on Red, answer me.

He waited, hoping he'd feel the link between them again, wishing that she'd just acknowledge him. But he felt as hollow as ever. Just like when the Blue Lion rejected him as her Paladin. The thought sent a flurry of panic through his mind, and his fear spiked to another level. If the Red Lion chose now to refuse Lance, he would have failed both his team and his home planet. Lance couldn't let that happen, but how could he do anything about it? If the Red Lion chose to ignore him, then there was nothing he could do. Helplessness had overwhelmed him when the Blue Lion severed their bond, and he'd been forced to listen to his friends struggle without him. During that moment, he feared that he'd never be able to help them, and he'd been rejected as a Paladin completely. The chilling despair that Lance experienced then still haunted his psyche, even though he'd soon discovered that the Red Lion had accepted him. Reliving that whole scenario would destroy Lance, and this time, he knew there was no other Lion that would choose him as its Paladin. Terrified by that prospect, Lance desperately pleaded to the Red Lion to answer him, to help him. And yet, the only response he received was cold, condemning silence. Though disheartened, Lance gritted his teeth and tried again, determined not to let everyone down so easily. However, before Lance could transmit another plea, Veronica yelped and Lance's body jerked violently as the rover swerved dangerously. Opening his eyes in surprise, Lance glanced around frantically, only to discover they were under fire by a Galra ship. Dust exploded around them as Veronica maneuvered the rover as best she could, the laser blasts from the ship barely missing them.

"Lance, where are you? Can you hear me?" Shiro's voice crackled over Lance's comms, but before he could reply, Lance's peripheral vision warned him of a shift in the Galra ship's position.

"Veronica, look out!" He screamed, but it was too late.

Veronica didn't have enough time to react, and a blast hit the back of the rover and vaulted them forward, sending them into a roll. As Lance felt himself vaulting through the air, time seemed to freeze. Weightless, he hung suspended in the air, like a pin waiting to drop. For a moment, nothing could touch him, nothing could hurt him. Then, all too soon, he was crashing into the windshield, against the door, and onto the seat that just a minute ago he'd sat obsessing about his sister tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. He wondered dimly if this was how he'd die, crushed by a piece of technology after it spun him around like it was a sick carnival ride inspired by the clothes tossed around in a dryer. This thought was largely overshadowed by the pain that erupted in his back after it slammed into something sharp. Before he could even properly dwell on that though, his head made contact with a hard object at a dangerous speed, pitching Lance's sight into black.

Lance didn't know which revived him first, the voices screeching in his head or the pain screaming through the rest of his body. Either way, the two factors dragged him from the blissful blanket of darkness that had laid like snow over his consciousness. Dazed, he forced his eyes to open, and blearily observed his surroundings. The sun momentarily blinded him as he pushed himself wearily to his feet, but after they adjusted, the first thing he noticed was the dust. It was everywhere. The second thing he noticed was the scattered metal pieces that littered the ground around him, as if there'd been a car wreck. Coming more alert, Lance looked around more carefully, wondering what had happened and hoping that whoever had been involved was uninjured. Then he realized that it was, in fact, he who was in the wreck. And that the voices in his head were not signs of schizophrenia, but his friends yelling at him. And that meant….

"Veronica?! Veronica!" He called, eyes dashing wildly for his sister.

After a several second span of desperate panic, he saw her about three hundred feet from him, lying exposed and possibly injured.

Or dead.

Viciously shoving the thought from his mind, Lance launched himself toward his sister, praying to anyone who could hear that she was still breathing.

"Veronica!" He yelled, covering the distance with a speed that he hadn't thought possible.

Sliding onto his knees when he reached her, he instantly scrambled to find her pulse, and only relaxed slightly when he felt it, steady and strong beneath his fingertips. At his touch, Veronica opened her eyes slowly, and he offered her a smile, but his battle senses were going haywire, telling him that they wouldn't be safe for long. Excessively conscious of the fact that they were easy targets for any Galra strolling by, Lance raised his head to find shelter, yet he was too late. A barrage of blaster shots rained down on them from several Galra soldiers nearby. Adrenaline pumping through his limbs, Lance activated his shield and propped it into the ground before him, positioning himself in order to protect Veronica as best he could. Shifting his bayard into a blaster, he dropped the soldiers and their drones with several rapid blasts. Just as he finished the last of them off, however, the ship returned, zeroing in on Lance's location.

Red, I need you! Right now!

The ship fired two blasts that evoked a thick cloud of dust but missed the two siblings. Blaster gripped firmly, Lance sprang forward and released a multitude of shots on the ship, but none of them left a mark, and the ship approached at an even faster rate. The grim reality hit Lance like a stone, and in that moment, he accepted it. How many other times had he been in this situation? Death was an old acquaintance by now, one whose door either never opened at his knock or slammed shut in his face. Maybe this time, he'd be invited to stay a while. Perhaps forever. The Galra ship was closer now, so close that it seemed impossibly huge, undefeatable even. Lance didn't want this for Veronica, but she'd known what she signed up for. Maybe they'd arrive at Death's house together, and someday, his family would forgive him for letting this happen. For leaving in the first place. Lance let his eyelids droop, accepting his end but not yet ready to witness it. He waited. When the final blow, the one that would send him from this life to the next, never came, he frowned and opened his eyes to see the Red Lion descending on the Galra ship with all the glory of a million victories. She crushed the ship beneath her dramatically, and another fog of dust formed around them from the impact.

After the dust settled, Lance glanced at Veronica, who had shifted into a crouched position, to make certain that she was alive.

"You okay?" He asked, voice hoarse.

"A little bruised, but nothing a couple weeks won't heal," she confirmed, offering him a relieved and grateful smile.

Reflecting her smile on his face, he turned to the Red Lion, who sat poised, as if waiting for something.

"Thank you so much," Lance felt the need to bow, though that only seemed to amuse the Lion, not to mention Veronica.

Apparently satisfied however, the Red Lion roared, a sound that sent vibrations through Lance's bones and hope into his heart. In that moment, the bond that he'd thought he'd lost, that he'd never regain, began to reappear between them. Lance could only stare at the Red Lion with gratitude sprawled across his face and, for some reason, the only thing he could think to say was a ridiculous line he'd probably used to flirt with someone in the past.

"Red, I think you're the love of my life."