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The Purity of Sin

Six

Lance awoke to his shoulder being shaken. He frowned and sleepily tried to bat away the offender, snuggling further against… rock? Hard, sharp rock.

He squinted his eyes open then, wondering where his comfortable pillow had gone and spotted Keith as said masquerading pillow crouched in front of him and being the reason he was now awake.

"What?" he groaned, realizing a tick later as his sleep addled mind caught up that he actually hadn't voiced any protest. And then he was wide awake as everything came crashing back. He scrambled to sit more fully up, but the motion sent his head spinning and Keith's hands braced on his shoulder to keep him still. He couldn't even muster up a frown due to the sudden pounding behind his eyes.

"Easy," Keith murmured, only removing his hands when Lance showed no sign of getting back up. "You've lost a lot of blood. You're going to be dizzy. No quick movements, okay?"

Lance whispered an 'okay' and winced at the silence, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as if that could help with the headache. The only thing he could say right now was that at least he wasn't freezing. The suns were beginning to peek and were warming his skin pleasantly and the rock below him. Give it another hour though and he knew he'd be burning. There was just no happy medium here.

"Here," and Lance felt something tap against his chin. He cracked open his eyes again to see a tube of water. He forced his left hand to shift from where he had it been resting on his lap and take the water himself, as it almost looked like Keith was going to help him and his pride would not allow that. He wasn't that bad off.

He practically snatched it from Keith's hand, regretting it immediately as even that had him tipping sideways a bit, but he righted himself through sheer determination. He was expecting some short comment from Keith, but the only thing he got in return was a look of worry and Lance was torn between scowling in embarrassment and feeling touched that Keith apparently cared so much. He settled for a sort of half-smile that Keith returned, settling himself on the opposite canyon wall.

It wasn't that he knew Keith didn't care. If anything the talk – or, well, whatever that classified as since Lance hadn't actually said a word – from last night had shown him that Keith cared a lot. And despite the fact that Keith often covered up his true feelings with aloofness or anger, Lance was realizing actually just how much of his heart Keith wore on his sleeve.

Lance had practically felt the tangible fear and then the stark relief when Lance had confirmed that he hadn't ignored their bonding moment, but honestly could not recall it. He wondered if that one incident had really been weighing on Keith this entire time. Lance tried to picture how it would have made him feel if he was someone like Keith who didn't really connect with others, and the one time he tried the other party pretended it never happened.

He winced. Yeah. That would certainly put a damper on any future attempts. Maybe he shouldn't have been so flippant about it, to where Keith had honestly believed that Lance didn't value their friendship.

And while he was not happy about losing his voice, and even just acknowledging it like that made his stomach clench unpleasantly, he would admit that the fact he could not speak had forced him to listen, to really listen. And by doing that he had heard Keith… not his words, but the emotions behind them and behind what was not said.

Lance prided himself on being a pretty observant to the needs of others. He could tell when Pidge was feeling down about her family and he'd cheer her up either with stories of his own siblings or sit there in shared quiet and card his fingers through her short hair.

He noticed when Hunk was starting to feel homesick and he'd keep him busy with games and stories of their shared childhood and cooking and baking experiments. He kept Allura from dwelling when he could see she was missing her family and planet with jokes and flirtations and would listen attentively when Coran spun stories as he knew having an engaged audience meant more to the older Altean than he'd ever say.

His ability to connect with others was what had made Allura choose him to act as a diplomat – although this was a beyond terrible first attempt and he wondered if her trust wasn't slightly misplaced about his skill.

And yet despite all of that he had never really seen behind Keith. He knew Keith cared, yes, and that he did want them all to do and be their best. But when Keith got angry and would go to the training deck, Lance would not follow. None of them did, except Shiro and well… Shiro wasn't here now. He'd always thought it was best to let Keith blow off steam and have that time to himself. Keith was a loner after all.

But what if he wasn't? What if Keith wasn't that lone wolf persona by choice but because no one else had ever gone after him? The thought made his chest hurt that he could have missed that. Lance had already come to the conclusion that he really didn't know much about Keith. He didn't know about his family (other than that his Mom was apparently at least part-Galran and had left him when he was young) or about his childhood or even what his favorite food was.

He didn't know why Keith had trouble connecting with others and he had never asked. He'd just assumed that was who Keith was and that was the end of it. But that was wrong. Keith did want to be a part of their team, their family, and he just didn't know how to express that. Shiro had always acted as a buffer but now that Keith didn't even have that and instead had gained the mantle of leadership – one he had not wanted, Lance knew – he had to be feeling even more lost.

Lance scowled at himself then as he drank his nasty onion-water. He was an idiot. And not the haha kind of where he did something stupid and everyone laughed. He had hurt someone he cared about and hadn't even known. And he should have known. He should have.

But his own hurt pride at Keith's natural skills and his desire to best him in something, anything, had blinded him to what Keith's actual feelings were. He hung his head. He was an awful friend. Instead of trying to beat Keith he should have been focusing and improving on his own strengths. He knew he would never be as quick or skilled as Keith in piloting or hand-to-hand or swordsmanship. What he did excel at though was shooting and reading people and connecting, but he'd clearly failed at the latter.

When Red had accepted him as her pilot and Allura had explained it was because he had accepted Keith as their leader, Lance had thought that maybe they could become better friends now that he had shown he wasn't the weakest link of the team. He couldn't be, after all, if he was the second in command.

But, Lance thought with a pang of guilt, he hadn't made any more real effort to strengthen that friendship. He'd become so concerned with trying to prove that he was worthy of the new position that while he did support Keith and his decisions as team leader, he didn't actually go about trying to include Keith any more than normal.

He let out a silent sigh and drained the rest of his water. He needed to fix this. And while being stranded on a hellish planet with killer wizard bobcats, suffering from blood loss and without the use of his voice wasn't how Lance would have planned it, maybe this was what they needed.

Besides, if he thought about this entire thing as a bonding experience rather than a nightmare it didn't seem as scary. Not that it wasn't terrifying, he was most definitely scared and the throbbing pain from his hand was not helping matters at all, but he wasn't alone.

And being alone was infinitely scarier than any of the above.

He knew what he needed to do. For all his thinking on needing to lower Keith's walls, Lance knew he had to bring his own down too. He had to stop being so prideful, accept that his lack of strengths weren't necessarily weaknesses. He had to stop comparing himself to Keith and support him instead.

And that meant allowing Keith to help him right now. He knew he was injured and refusing to accept assistance was just childish and petty. Also… that refusal would hurt Keith and that was the last thing Lance wanted. He'd already done enough damage with the first unremembered bonding moment, he wouldn't screw this one up too.

"Finished?" Keith asked as Lance lowered the water tube for the final time. "I've got something for you to eat. I think."

Lance raised an eyebrow at that as Keith came back over to him and held out, wrapped in another piece of robe, what appeared to be an orange-ish colored insect half the size of Pidge's fist. Lance looked at him incredulously. Keith wanted him to eat a bug? Seriously?

"I found them this morning," Keith explained. "They were by the water. I've got a few more too once you finish that one."

Lance could feel his face turning green.

"It can't be worse than Coran's meals."

And he did have a point there. Still. It was a bug. A very crunchy, unappetizing looking bug. And yet it was also food and he knew he needed it, if the aching in his head told him anything. Fluids and food and rest, his mamá always said when he had a headache.

He gingerly took the robe-wrapped bug from Keith, his stomach knotting as he contemplated how best to eat it. Head first? Pull off the legs? His stomach gurgled at that and that was a definite nope.

At least Keith seemed to be in just as much of a predicament, sizing up his own bug like he would an enemy. It made Lance snort out a laugh and even though there was no sound Keith somehow looked up at that moment.

"Laugh it up," he told Lance. "We're both eating them." His face turned more somber. "And we should do so quickly. We really need to get moving again."

Ah yes. That little detail about Lance's blood drawing the Mackans like sharks in water. Lance carefully lifted up his right hand, where it had been resting on the sun-warmed stone and winced. It wasn't as bad as the previous night due to all of the extra layers, but there were stains showing and Lance could see some dribbling down his fingers where the bandages were looser.

He wasn't really hungry anymore.

"Eat," Keith insisted, following Lance's sightline. "You need it. I'll wrap it again once you finish."

And ugh, that sounded awful too. Necessary, but awful.

Lance took a deep breath. Okay. He could do this. He'd faced much scarier things in his life. Coran's Paladin lunch for example. Or when his little sisters had attempted to make churros for the first time but they'd used salt instead of sugar and he'd eaten every single one so they weren't sad.

What was it they said? The average human ate how many spiders in their lifetime? Well, this wasn't the end. It might even taste good. Simba had grown to like bugs, right?

And before he could stall any longer Lance chomped his teeth down around the creature's head and upper body. It was crunchy, he noted. And… it also tasted like onions, but possibly mixed with… cucumbers? He hated cucumbers.

It was the texture though that was the worst. Crunchy and chewy and oozing at the same time, but he choked it down, eyes watering. He looked at Keith, who was turning slightly purple that had nothing to do with his Galra heritage.

"That was disgusting," Keith gasped as he finished his own bite.

Somehow they both managed to scarf down two of the nasty bugs, but Lance pitifully waved away the third one Keith brought over and to his relief Keith didn't insist. They washed their meal down with more of the water, and after the bug it didn't even seem so bad.

Lance knew what had to happen next though and couldn't hide the grimace even as he held his bloodied hand out to Keith. Even that movement sent a new ache through it, which only worsened as Keith unwrapped the bandages.

And once again the wound was laid bare and not a tick closer to healing than it had been when he got it.

Keith met Lance's eyes. "This isn't good."

Keith was a master of understatements, Lance decided.

He focused on that as Keith once more gently poured water over the sluggishly bleeding wound and then over Lance's stained fingers. He deftly wrapped it again, for all the good they both knew it would do.

"Drink some more," Keith instructed. "We'll head out in a couple minutes." He himself went about wrapping the remaining bugs in a scrap of material to act as a pouch and affixed it to the belted sheath and then spread water across all of the blood that had gathered, diluting it on the hot rocks.

Lance took Keith's advice and also stepped a few feet away to relieve himself. And although he'd suspected it based on everything else, he did confirm that the only clothing article he was wearing were indeed the ill-fitting red pants from the sacrifice.

His stomach clenched as he realized why that was, and a sudden shiver overtook him. Magical fire apparently was not kind on Altean spandex as it was on human flesh. He shuddered again at the feeling of phantom flames touching his skin.

Well, nothing to do about it now, he supposed. And at least on the positive side it hadn't been a weird cult gown or robe. Because then he'd be running through a desert with a not so welcome breeze down there. He snorted soundlessly as he pulled the drawstring tighter and made sure they were secure.

Keith was ready and waiting when he returned. He looked alert, hand clenched about his luxite blade and eyes scanning the opposite horizon, but Lance could see the exhaustion pulling at him and it was impossible to miss the dark circles beneath his eyes.

They needed to find somewhere else to rest, even just for a few hours. Lance felt guilt overtake him as despite his injuries and slight light-headedness that was going to plague him for a while he felt relatively well rested. He pushed it aside as best he could. Keith had been right last night and feeling bad about it wasn't going to help anyone.

"We need to stay somewhat in range of the Lions," Keith said. "That's what Pidge'll track when we don't show. We'll circle back that way, hopefully find another water source, and avoid the Mackans."

Easier said than done, that Lance was certain of. He mimed placing his hands against his head for sleep and looked pointedly at Keith.

"And I'll get some sleep," Keith agreed. "Once we find a somewhat secure location. You okay to walk? We'll go slow."

Lance gave him the brightest smile he could and a thumbs up. As disgusting as the bug was, he did feel a little more settled. His feet too, while still sore, were much better and Keith's idea with the shirt sleeve made moving so much more bearable.

"Then let's go."

Keith seemed to have a built in compass in him, as he led them without hesitation in a sweeping arc through the lower canyon. Although Lance knew Keith's ears were better than his, it didn't stop him from straining to hear any sound that might warn them of approaching Mackans.

He kept his eyes trained as best he could around them as well, knowing that he did have pretty impeccable vision. Unfortunately, he also had to keep a careful eye on where he was walking, as he'd already tripped once over a rise in the stone and if Keith hadn't heard the scuff he'd have faceplanted into the ground.

It was getting hot though. Too hot. Sweat was beading his hairline and they had yet to find a new water source during their trek. Lance was grateful for his darker skin tone, because ahead he could already see Keith's bare arm starting to look slightly pink.

When Keith actually stumbled about two hours in after they finally cleared the canyon on the other side, Lance knew enough was enough. Heat exhaustion was a very real threat to both of them, and Keith already had the exhaustion part down without the added element.

He forced his feet to go a little faster and closed the short distance between them, wrapping his left hand tightly about Keith's right bicep and pulling back. Even that action made him slightly dizzy and Lance amended his previous assessment. He too was also beginning to suffer from some heat exhaustion, compounded by the ever-steady blood loss.

"I know," Keith sighed, wiping his hand across his face and coming away damp with sweat. "We need to stop."

Lance inclined his head to the left where a rising hill of rock provided a slight overhang and with it glorious shade. Other than the rock blocking sight from directly behind, they otherwise would have a clear vantage across relatively flat plains. Lance felt confident that he could keep watch that way for a few hours, at least. And unless the Mackans specialized in camouflage or invisibility (and Lance really hoped they didn't have invisibility cloaks or spells like that) he could see them coming easily.

"Okay," Keith agreed. "Looks good."

Lance watched with growing concern as his normally graceful teammate all but plodded over to the outcropping and sank wearily down in the meager shade. Lance joined him, although he tugged at one of the plant rods in Keith's belt.

Keith wearily pulled it free and went to hand it to Lance, but a dark hand pushed it back with a pointed look.

"We both need it," Keith said, pushing it back to Lance. "Drink, I'll finish it."

Lance took a few sips, wrinkling his nose at the horrid taste that he did not seem to be developing any sort of immunity to. He handed the half-full tube back to Keith, who had removed the remaining three from his back and propped them up along the wall next to him.

Keith drained it in two loud gulps. Now that he was sitting, he looked even more exhausted than before.

Lance poked him and once Keith had turned a weary gaze in his direction he once more mimed sleep.

"Hand first." Keith held out his own and with an exaggerated put upon sigh Lance held it out.

The bandages had not bled through, which was a nice positive. Yet as Keith gently prodded the wrappings a bit of blood welled up. He retrieved another scrap of robe and added it to Lance's palm. They needed a better solution, but Keith was too tired to think of one right now. The only thing that crossed his mind were stitches, and they had no access to anything resembling a needle or thread.

"Three varga," Keith told Lance. "That's it. And you wake me if you see anything."

Lance rolled his eyes even as he nodded. He had never realized Keith was such a worrywart. He also realized that before this mission he may have taken the instruction as a sign that Keith thought he was incompetent, but it wasn't that anymore. Keith just didn't know how to express his concerns otherwise.

"There's more bugs if you get hungry," Keith mumbled as he turned to lie lengthwise against the ground, pillowing his head on his crossed arms. He placed his luxite blade in easy reaching distance from his hand, but not so close that he would cut himself.

Keith shifted uncomfortably, as despite his exhaustion he could not seem to find a suitable spot. A tick later though he stiffened as something landed on his head. He realized that it was Lance's hand, as fingers combed his sweaty bangs back from his forehead.

It felt… nice. Strange, but nice. He turned his head slightly so he could see Lance, and the Cuban gave him a soft smile, hand repeating the soothing gesture.

And although the rock had not grown any softer, Keith was somehow comfortable. He felt his body finally relax and then surrender to sleep, lulled all the while by the caresses.

Lance looked fondly down as Keith's breathing evened into the deepness of sleep. He'd seen the struggle as Keith tried to force his body to rest, and so he had reached out and run his hands through the long, mullet locks as his mamá did whenever he had woken from a bad dream and couldn't fall back asleep.

It calmed him too. He kept up the movement, allowing it to ground him as his other hand throbbed with renewed pain where he'd cradled it in his lap. Dark ocean eyes kept their gaze straight though, scanning the peripherals.

But just rocks, rocks and more rocks filled his vision. Lance was immensely grateful. He had no idea how they were still managing to evade the Mackans so well, but he would bet it was thanks to the planet's high heat.

Other than the disgusting water and bugs, nothing here had a scent or taste. There wasn't even any breeze to stir up rock dust. Just pounding heat and dead rocks with the occasional seaweed tube plant scattered about.

He wondered what the Mackans ate. Surely they must have been able to cultivate something on this dusty rock planet that they had stayed and were apparently thriving. He'd suspect they were carnivores based on appearance (and those teeth had to tear into something) but it was also entirely possible they served no purpose. Like the spleen. And their ears, which unlike normal wildcats didn't seem to be anything special. At least they had that going for them.

His thoughts wandered then to their Lady Leora and if she gifted them food of some sort. Was she actually real? The magic certainly was, and if summoned Lance's hand gave another sharp pulse. He tried speaking again, but not even a whisper. He swallowed heavily, resisting the urge to tip his own head back against the wall. He had to keep focused. He was on watch and Keith was counting on him. He wasn't able to do much in his current state, but he could certainly do this.

Lance spent the better part of the next two varga trying as best he could to keep from thinking about anything of importance to avoid freaking himself out. He puzzled over why the Mackans had such heavy fur in such a hot day climate to how the Alteans had ever had an alliance with a sacrifice-happy species to if Keith would consider letting him trim his mullet back even just slightly when they got back to the castle to if Hunk would have been able to make the seaweed plants edible and delicious.

And just as he was about to move onto the debate he'd been waging as to whether for future missions he should be referring himself to the Blue Paladin, the Red Paladin or just a Paladin of Voltron, he spotted movement on the far eastern (or what he was calling east) horizon.

He squinted, straightening for a better look.

His blood ran cold as several forms he could make out as Mackans appeared. Four in total, about he'd say a mile away thanks to the great visibility of their vantage point. They didn't seem to have spotted or smelled them yet, if the way they were moving slowly was any indication.

But… he looked down at his hand. Blood was staining the outer bandages again and even that slight shift had made his head spin. It hadn't pooled in any amount yet, like it had last night when they'd been near ambushed, but if their noses were as sharp as he imagined them to be, they should eventually catch a whiff of what was visible.

"Keith," he whispered, realizing again too late that his voice didn't work right now. His left hand, which he had been carding through Keith's hair the entire time, moved to tap against Keith's face. Keith scrunched his nose up in protest and Lance thought that it was adorable, but he really did need him to wake up now.

A few more pats and then finally a flick to the forehead had Keith jerking upright, eyes still clouded with sleep but clearing quickly. "What is it?" he asked, voice a low murmur. Lance pointed.

It took Keith a few seconds, but he spotted what Lance had seen and cursed below his breath. The Mackans didn't seem to have seen them though, as they were possibly hidden in the shadow of the overhang. It wouldn't be long at all though until someone picked up the scent of blood.

Keith reached into his sheath and pulled out their last strip of pilfered robe and Lance allowed him to wrap it about the bundle already on his hand without protest.

"Drink," Keith ordered, handing Lance a tube. "We can't bring them with us anymore." They were too clunky.

Lance managed to chug down one while Keith downed another. Keith insisted Lance take the third and Lance dutifully swallowed most of it, but refused to finish it and thrust it back at Keith who reluctantly took it.

"We're going to move along the rock away from them," Keith said, "and use its cover to get moving quickly. Can you run?"

Lance waved his hand in a so-so manner. His head already ached at the thought, but it was either that or possible capture.

"Just until we can put some distance between us again. We'll rest then." Keith offered his free hand to Lance to pull him to standing and Lance gratefully took it.

He stumbled though as soon as he was upright, barely catching himself on the rock hill.

"You do not look good," Keith said bluntly, taking in how underneath his tan skin Lance looked pale. Lance glared at him, although it lacked any type of ferocity. More of just a conditioned response to comments about his appearance.

They still had over a day though until help would arrive and Keith was getting a gnawing feeling that the way they were going was not going to end well. As stubborn as Lance was, his body would not physically be capable of covering large distances much longer and Keith's plan to evade the Mackans was starting to sink.

Later, he decided. Right now they had to get away from the current threat.

Unfortunately , the Mackans had come from the direction Keith had planned to go. This could very well just be one scout party, or it could mean that they were starting to cover and maintain ground and eliminating the places the Paladins could run. They certainly had the numbers to do so.

There was nothing to be done for it now. And in any case they still had at least a day to outwait the Mackans. They could retreat further from the Lions and then double back when they were closer to a rescue. That would be the best plan.

Keith nodded to himself. They would move in the opposite direction of the Mackan's base and find a place to hunker down for a while. But he knew it would only be temporary. The Mackans were hunters and they were the prey. The Mackans didn't look like the type that were going to give up, especially not after Keith had killed some of their own.

But that was later. He had to focus on the present. That meant getting behind the hill without the Mackans seeing them and then moving as quickly as possible until they found some other form of cover.

"Let's go," he said curtly, trying not to show his worry as Lance took a wobbling step forward in the indicated direction, although he seemed to gain some stability as he continued on. Keith prayed it would last.

Breaking into a quick jog once they were clear of the rock structure and its welcome shade, the two Paladins headed opposite the newest threat and further away from the Lions, but hopefully towards some modicum of safety.

But safety was relative here. Magical bobcats behind them, the unknown in front and above it all the suns beat relentlessly down.

Nowhere on Macka was truly safe.

xxx

Author's Notes:

Yummy bugs! So delicious and nutritious! But hey, food is food and Lance really needs it. We also went a bit to Lance's end of the original bonding moment. Crazy to think that one incident could have such a domino effect, huh?

Love and delicious bugs and onion water (because I'm swell like that) to the reviewers: Guest, dragoscilvio, Justanangryfangirl, yazbk2988, RJLadyA, wingedflower, hobbes101, Subtle Shenanigans, MandyRaccoon, Pfeh, Oliviadbell, Adrianna Agray, WindGemini, pyrakitt2, momoluvr11, Alexa, imagine forevermore, migrane, PaintedWings45 and Jennyfish26! You won't die of dehydration and starvation on me today!

If you're still here and reading the fic please do drop a comment! I'd love to get us to bi-weekly updates (or I'm not going to finish before the deadline xD) but extra chapters are based on the response to previous chapters and well... we aren't there yet xD So if you are enjoying Sin please do drop a comment once in a while (or every chapter and really make the author happy) and let me know what you're liking about it! Thanks guys! See you next chapter :)