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The Purity of Sin

Eleven

The suns were just beginning to rise as they reached the cliffs, a harsh and beautiful line against the flatness of the plains.

Keith moved mechanically towards them, legs burning with each step. His shoulders were screaming and his arms ached, but he forced himself to keep going. Just one more step. Just one more step. It was a mantra he'd been chanting in his head for the last varga.

Lance had fallen asleep or unconscious, he wasn't quite sure. His breathing was for the most part steady on the back of Keith's neck, so he was trying not to worry too much. It was nothing like the shallow gasps following when he'd had to cauterize his hand.

Just thinking on that though broke through his mantra as dread settled in him. As soon as it was hot enough he was going to have to do it. Again. And twice; once to Lance's left hand and then to the large wound that cut Lance from across his collarbone down to near his right armpit.

He could feel additional damp heat on his shoulders and had no doubt that Lance was bleeding on him. There was nothing to be done right now though. They'd stopped about two hours in so Keith could rest and he'd re-bandaged both of Lance's newest injuries. He'd also gotten Lance to eat another food bar and scarfed one himself along with another few sips of water.

The map hadn't shown any type of labeled water source, but Keith was hopeful that a light orange mark might signify water. He also knew that such an area was likely to be guarded at this point. His plan was to find a secure location earlier on in the cliffs and then, once he was certain Lance was safe, proceed there on his own to try and refill the canteens.

He also needed to sleep. He'd hoped to plow through until the rescue, but that had been a serious error on his part. He could feel even now how the exhaustion was making him sluggish and if any type of attack was launched he would be not able to defend against it. Just the thought of wielding his sword made him dizzy.

He took another determined step, a high cliff wall rising upon his right. And then another. He kept going until a secondary wall rose on the opposite side closing them in. A narrow tunnel wasn't so great for swordplay, but it also would prevent the Mackans from firing on all sides and force them down in sets of two to three rather than a whole horde.

Keith kept trudging until one of the walls curved in a bit forming a widened section of path before narrowing again several feet up. It was here Keith decided was far enough and he just about collapsed with relief.

Disentangling Lance's hands from where he'd ended up looping them together with a piece of cloth, Keith pulled them free his own neck and then lowered Lance gently to the ground. He wasn't sure if the fact Lance didn't stir in the slightest was good or bad.

After rolling his shoulders and neck a few times and cracking his back, Keith then turned to making Lance more comfortable, pulling him into the part of the curve where the shade was currently falling and propping his head up on the pouch full of spare robe pieces.

He rested his hand on Lance's forehead, frowning as despite the heat starting to leech into the air Lance felt cool and he looked pale beneath his tan and the sunburn that was darkening already. He spied the culprit; the bandages wrapped around Lance's chest were indeed dark and damp with blood.

His hands trembled as he pulled his luxite blade free, staring at the gleaming black surface. He knew what he had to do. Again. He swallowed thickly, the scent of burnt flesh lingering on in his memory.

Speaking of, he should probably check on Lance's right hand. He hadn't given it any attention after he'd wrapped it the first time and he knew that more often than not cauterization could lead to infection. There wasn't much he could do if that was the case, but he could at least wipe it down with some water, which had to help with the burn, right? He at least had water to do that now.

Gingerly he began to pull the shirt tubes off and over, frowning as they felt damp. Clammy skin? He hoped so. But as he eased the main one that covered the majority of Lance's palm free his eyes widened. Peeking up through the burn was a sliver of an open wound with a line of blood.

It felt like his heart stopped.

"No," he whispered. "How…?"

Now freed from the pressure, he watched the blood start to run free of the cut, spilling onto Lance's palm and dripping down his hand. He hurriedly yanked the shirt back down, securing it and wrapping his hand about Lance's to add additional force for the moment.

It must have been enough to cause pain though, as he felt Lance twitch and then seconds later try to pull away.

"It's just me," Keith said, relinquishing his hold and moving instead to place a firm but gentle hand on Lance's shoulder to keep him from trying to sit up, eyeing the stained bandages on his chest warily. "Lie still, it's all right."

Sightless eyes blinked up at him and Keith hated that he could see the confusion and fear even then. Lance tried to move again and Keith pressed down harder on his shoulder, earning a silent whimper that made his guilt flare. "You can't move. You'll hurt yourself more."

Lance stilled then, although his breathing had definitely picked up tempo if the dull thudding beneath Keith's hand was any indication. "It's all right," Keith repeated, even though it really wasn't. "Just… just rest, okay?"

Lance closed his eyes in answer.

Keith meanwhile sat back on his heels, exhausted mind going in circles. He needed to cauterize all of the wounds. Even though it wasn't a permanent fix for the blood loss it had held for… he tiredly counted back, having to resort to his fingers that swam in front of him, for about ten hours. They still had about eighteen left, give or take, which meant if he cauterized it now it would hold until sometime in the middle of the night and then it'd be bleeding again with no way to staunch it.

Or, and his stomach heaved, he could do it now and then redo the operation in about six more hours before the suns started to set. That'd get them practically to the rescue and then hopefully Coran would have a different method to heal Lance until he could go into cryo. Keith had a sinking feeling that Lance could not go into the pods until the spell had been reversed. Because if the cryo healed the wounds but did not restore Lance's sight and speech…

The suns weren't high enough yet to really give him the heat he needed. Maybe in about a varga. And his hands felt shaky right now, proven as he lifted them both to his face and there was a faint tremble to them. He couldn't perform such an operation like this. He'd hurt Lance more.

He needed sleep. Even just an hour had to help. But he couldn't ask Lance to keep watch. Lance couldn't even see and his hearing was either equal or less than the Mackans.

What did he do?

He glanced at their supplies again, hoping inspiration would strike. If Hunk or Pidge were here he'd know they'd probably be able to devise some trap out of nothing, but all he could see were items and they were hazy in his vision. He shook his head but it did nothing except nearly tip him over and make his head pound. The water and food had helped a lot, but they were no replacement for sleep.

"Lance," he finally whispered and cloudy blue eyes opened, his head turning ever so slightly in Keith's direction. "Are you awake?"

And the faintest smile tugged up Lance's mouth and he managed an eye roll.

"Okay, haha, yes, dumb question," Keith mumbled, but his thoughts weren't quite lining up the like they were supposed to.

Lance seemed to realize something was wrong too as his left hand shifted and with startling accuracy he landed it on Keith's knee, poking it with his index finger. Keith supposed he shouldn't be surprised; Lance had always been adaptable and also had a keen sense of direction. He was already beginning to come familiar with this newest handicap.

"I'm tired," Keith admitted, more honestly than he would have even a few hours ago. "I… I need to sleep. But…"

Lance poked him, hard, and with more force than he'd managed last night. The food and water had to have been good for him too and Keith sent up a silent prayer that if they'd had to be attacked than at least the enemy had brought supplies. If that hadn't happened actually… well, they might both be passed out on the plains right now. He shook the thought away, but that only brought a new wave of dizziness and he caught himself on his hands.

Lance struggled to sit then, no doubt hearing Keith's hiss as still healing hands thumped the stone, but somehow Keith managed to shift one of his hands onto Lance's shoulder and the movement stilled.

"Can… can you…?" What was he even asking?

But Lance nodded as best he could, a line of determination taking place of his own pain and exhaustion. 'Sleep' he mouthed at Keith.

"But—"

And Lance poked him again. 'Sleep.'

"Just for an hour," Keith agreed reluctantly. He settled down next to Lance, his head even with Lance's shoulder and his knife resting in its sheath between them. "If… if you hear anything—"

Lance cut him off with another poke, this one stabbing into Keith's chin. Keith pulled himself up to avoid losing an eyeball and settled onto his stomach, pillowing his head on folded arms and looked in Lance's direction, sightless eyes staring back at him.

"Okay, good. Do that. And don't move," he said that last part a bit firmer. "Not until I…"

And the wince that passed over Lance's face told him he knew how that sentence ended. Still, he got a soft nod and that was enough.

Keith closed his eyes and was out like a light.

Lance lied still as Keith had asked, taking comfort in the deep, even breaths next to him. He resisted the urge to copy the inhalations, knowing that it would knock him out too and he needed to keep watch. Or, he amended, keep listen? No, that sounded stupid. He'd stick with watch.

Despite Keith's request, order really, Lance did move, bringing a trembling left hand and gently prodding at his neck, withdrawing with a silent hiss. Okay, that stung. He could feel cloth wrapped about him further down and gently trailed his fingers along the edges, trying to determine for himself how bad it was.

Not good at all, he concluded as he felt something sticky on his fingers. He tried to wipe them as best he could on his side where the bandages seemed to just be there for support rather than covering any particular wound.

As strange as it sounded, he did actually feel a little better than earlier. Not in any less pain – oh no, that had most definitely increased – but his head felt clearer. Less fuzzy. A combination likely of the sleep, food and water. He licked his lips at that last thought. He really could go for a drink.

But… he had no idea where Keith had put the bottles or whatever it was they were drinking out of now. It wasn't the plant tube, he knew that much. And he was in no condition to be fumbling around looking.

He swallowed, trying not to think about how thirsty he was now. It really wasn't that bad. Nothing like last night where he'd almost wanted to cry because of how parched he was and the heat of his new burn had not helped.

He swallowed again, twitching his right hand at the thought. It responded with a sharp stab and he stilled it immediately. His left didn't seem to be as bad, but whether that was because Keith hadn't sealed it yet or the cut wasn't as deep he wasn't sure.

He tried not to think about that. The pain the first time… He closed his eyes as if that could block it out. That… that had been the worst pain in his life he'd experienced to date, and that included being thrown from what was pretty much a bomb blast. Well, maybe he'd call it a tie with the whole being burned alive thing. Point was, fire was not his friend. It made him miss Blue's soothing water and ice with a new pang of longing.

And worse still, this time he'd gotten someone else hurt. While Keith might not have any actual physical wounds, Lance hadn't missed the deep guilt swimming in those purple orbs when he'd come to. He'd forced Keith to hurt him and telling himself that it needed to be done couldn't erase the action. And now he was asking Keith to do it again. That almost hurt more than the impending pain of the actual deed.

And this time he wouldn't even be able to see. He blinked back the hot tears that sprung up. He was trying really, really hard not to panic about his loss of sight. There was nothing they could do and freaking out wasn't going to solve anything.

But that didn't make him any less scared. He was lucky that Keith seemed to have gotten rather good at his random interpretations – maybe he wasn't such a lost cause for charades, the thought quirking his lip into a smile. In fact, Keith was really surprising him. In a good way.

He cast his eyes in Keith's direction, another smile, more real, lightening his entire face. It's not that he didn't think Keith would look out for him. That's what you did for your friends. But Keith had been nothing but (mostly) kind and even in his fits of anger and frustration Lance could tell now that it wasn't directed at him, but at their situation.

Except for last night. Or whenever that was. When Keith yelled at him for surrendering. He bit his lip, looking guiltily in Keith's direction.

He knew what Keith thought. He understood why he was worried. But despite all of that Lance would do it again. Even though he'd sort of promised not to.

Ideally, yes, he wanted both of them to get out of here alive. But he knew what the situation looked like. They were severely outnumbered and he was weighing them down. He could never forgive himself if he could have done something, anything, to save Keith and he didn't. He didn't care if Keith cursed at him for the rest of his life. At least he'd be alive to do so.

Lance was well aware of his tendency to figuratively and literally bite the bullet. He didn't like to see people get hurt when he was in a position to do something to stop it. And if that meant taking a bomb blast or the blame or whatever it was he would do it. Every time.

It's not that he didn't want to live. He liked living very much, thank you. But he couldn't just stand there when he knew he could make a difference and spare someone else the pain. He hated that he kept hurting Keith. He didn't want to. It just kept happening and when Lance had tried to save him it had made Keith beyond angry.

Lance understood. If their roles were reversed he'd be royally pissed too that Keith had tried to offer himself up so he could make a clean escape. He got it. Really.

But still…

Things were not looking good.

It really was a moot point though. Unless Keith managed to get away for another attempted ambush, any attack would involve both of them. He wasn't going to get away and Lance willingly choosing to go with the Mackans wasn't likely to spare him. The Mackans had wanted blood for their kin and after last night… Lance swallowed again, stomach churning at the memory.

They didn't want Keith for a second sacrifice anymore. They'd made that more than clear. They wanted him dead. But before that, they wanted him to suffer. Lance shivered at the thought of what they would do. It would probably make his own death via the ritual look peaceful.

No. He wasn't going to let them hurt Keith. He didn't really know what he could do, but it'd be over his dead body that they got their nasty little paws on Keith. Lance nodded to himself, determination etched into his features.

He spent the rest of his watch time counting as best he could. He wanted to let Keith sleep longer than the varga, but even just lying here he could feel his hand beginning to dampen. He frowned though. He swore it almost felt like there was something dripping on his right hand too, but that was impossible.

Still, the feeling grew the longer he lay there and it was taking all his willpower to not try and check for himself. What would that accomplish? He still wasn't going to wake Keith unless he heard Mackans.

He made it to what he guessed was about a varga, but opted to throw a few more minutes onto it. That couldn't hurt, right? Besides, Keith was still sleeping so peacefully and Lance knew he needed it. He'd had what… maybe three varga of sleep now? That wasn't healthy. Especially not for their one line of defense.

Eventually though the tickling sense of paranoia won out and Lance poked Keith, catching him in the shoulder. Keith grunted but didn't wake. Lance did it a few more times until finally Keith stirred, but with none of quick reflex Lance was used to. He was really tired, Lance thought guiltily.

"'m awake," Keith mumbled and Lance heard him shifting, likely sitting up. There was the sound of a jaw-breaking yawn and Lance winced in sympathy.

Then there was the sound of rummaging and what sounded like a cap being flipped. "You up for a drink?"

Uh, why was that even a question? Lance made a 'come hither' motion with his left hand and got a dry chuckle out of Keith.

"Okay, one tick. I'm going to lift you up so you don't choke."

This time Lance was prepared for it as Keith's hands slipped below his shoulders and adjusted him so he was inclined against Keith's knee. Then the water bottle was pressed to his lips and Lance took a grateful swig and then another, biting back his unhappiness as Keith pulled it away. He had no idea how much they had though and Keith knew best.

There was quiet then and Lance hated it. He'd never liked it and he understood that here, in this situation, quiet could be good, but without his sight it felt like too much. Everything was pressing in and he had nothing except his own thoughts to distract him and his head was not a good place to be right now.

He reached out for Keith, eyes widening as his hand hit only air, which made him flail it around in a slight panic as he tried to orient himself.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," and Keith's hand intercepted his own. "What is it?"

Lance just shook his head, unable to really explain. And although Keith didn't say anything to break the new quiet after that, he didn't release Lance's hand and Lance took comfort in that, focusing on that rather than any of the other pain thrumming through him.

"I have some bad news," Keith said after a few moments.

And was there really any good news here? Lance gave a silent sigh and inclined his head.

"Your right hand. It's bleeding again."

And relief that he was not going crazy mixed equally with horror. That meant that…

He felt Keith's sigh of resignation. "I calculated. It looks like the cauterization holds for about ten varga. If… If I do it soon – and I really should, Lance, you're still losing blood – I.. I'll have to do it again. Before the sun, suns, go down."

Again? The word echoed in Lance's mind. He had to go through it not once more but twice? And not only that… he was going to make Keith go through that pain too?

"I'll make it quick," Keith said hurriedly, misinterpreting the source of pain on his face. "I'm… I'm really sorry, Lance. But it needs done."

And Lance knew that. The best thing he could do now was try and put on a brave face for both of them and assure Keith that it was all right. So he squeezed Keith's hand and tried to muster up a smile.

"You up to do it now?" Keith asked and Lance's eyes widened. So soon?

But it made sense. The more he bled the better signal he made to the Mackans and the quicker they'd be found. Lance knew that he wasn't going to be able to walk much if at all and Keith was beyond tired and wouldn't be able to carry him far. If this was where they were going to stay for a little bit at least it would be best if they didn't draw the Mackans right to them.

So he nodded even as his stomach clenched.

"Okay," Keith breathed. "I'm… I'm going to start with the one on your chest. I'm going to focus right here," and Keith very lightly touched Lance's collarbone to the left of the wound. "It's pretty deep. But I don't think it should reopen again since it isn't magical."

And, well, that was a small bit of relief. Not much, but Lance would take what he could.

He heard Keith slip his knife free and he reflexively winced even though he knew nothing was happening. Yet.

Keith was then shifting his head from where it was resting on his leg and Lance found himself being propped to sitting. His body cried in protest but he forced himself to remain upright, even if that meant slumping forward over crossed legs.

"I've got to remove the bandages," Keith said. "It might pull a bit. You okay to sit like that for a few?"

Lance nodded. It was all he could do.

He felt Keith's fingers fumble with what had to be a knot and then there was the sensation of the reduced pressure as Keith unwound them, ducking in and out of Lance's arms. And although the force was lessening it was being replaced with an uncomfortable prickle that was quickly morphing to a sting.

"Okay, all done. Let's get you lying down now."

Hands grasped his shoulders and Lance prided himself on only tensing a bit as Keith helped him lie down on his back. Then there was the splash of water and the feeling of damp cloth blotting at his chest.

"It looks like it clotted a bit," Keith said as he continued his ministrations. "But…"

Not enough. Lance sighed again, regretting it immediately as it sent lancing pain through his torso. Not enough for bandages to do the job. He understood. Didn't mean he liked it.

"If… if you pass out," Keith said and Lance winced at the reminder. "Don't be like that," Keith scolded not unkindly. "I'm glad you did. I… I don't like seeing you in pain."

And well, when he put it like that Lance almost wanted to suggest clubbing him in the head with a rock now. Except for the probable concussion that would rise from that complication. That wouldn't be good.

"As I was saying," Keith continued, "If you do… do you want me to do the rest?"

And again, why was Keith even asking that? Lance nodded very firmly, hoping to convey how much he liked that plan. Not being awake to experience torture disguised as healing? Sign him right up.

"Okay then." Lance heard the scrape of a blade on stone as Keith likely lifted it up. "Um… I'm going to start then. Are… are you ready?"

Lance formed a weak thumbs up with his left hand just like last time.

And then, to his surprise, he felt Keith shift from his side and then he could feel Keith's legs braced on either side of him and Keith sit down on his stomach, effectively straddling him and making Lance give a silent 'oof' at the new weight. He raised an eyebrow at the maneuver.

"You're going to move," Keith said matter-of-factly, although Lance could practically hear how uncomfortable he was and picture the blush. It made him grin despite himself. He may have been acclimating Keith some to hugs but it was clear that crossing personal boundaries was still a very new thing. He'd have to get Hunk and Pidge to dogpile Keith when they got back and keep him nice and squished until he yielded. That should fix that. Maybe he could even get Allura and Coran to join in if he told them it was an Earth custom…

"But if you could try not to I'd really appreciate it," Keith continued, breaking into his plans, voice more steady. "I… I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to."

Lance sobered up immediately at the reminder.

"I was also thinking… do you want something to bite down on? Um, we've got the seaweed plant. If you want to."

Lance raised an eyebrow in question this time. He couldn't make a noise while screaming no matter how hard he tried, so what did that matter?

"I thought about it just now," Keith said, and Lance could picture him running a hand through his mullet. "It can help you with the jaw clenching so you don't hurt your teeth. I'm sorry I didn't realize it earlier."

Lance had no idea where Keith pulled random medical knowledge like that from, but he figured he may as well give it a go and gave another nod.

Keith shifted forward, reaching for something beyond Lance's head, and then settled back a tick later. Lance felt something rough tap against his mouth and he opened, gagging at the dry, chalky texture of the plant. Still, if Keith thought it could help… He got it up over his tongue – ugh, it tasted even worse now – and clamped his teeth down around it and tried to flash Keith a grin.

"Okay. I'm going to hold it for about twenty ticks, okay? Just… just bear with me."

He heard Keith take another deep breath and he tried to still his own racing heartbeat. He scrunched his eyes closed for all the difference it would make. He was ready. He was ready. He was—

Agony tore into him and Lance realized that no, he was not ready. There was no being ready for this level of pain.

His teeth ached as they caught in a scream around the plant and he threw his head back, slamming it against the rock. It didn't knock him out. He cried out tears of frustration and hurt.

Against his will he could feel himself trying to buck Keith off, feet scrambling for purchase on the ground despite the pain and damaged hands trying to push himself back. All it did was make more and Keith tightened his own legs, knees digging into his sides, and put more of his weight across Lance's body.

"Almost there," Keith choked out, although Lance could barely hear him over the blood pounding in his ears. "Ten ticks left."

Why wasn't he blacking out? He could feel tears dripping down his cheeks and his struggles slowed; not for want but because he had nothing left in him to fight with. He cried out silently, tossing his head back again but he remained determinedly conscious.

And then the worst of the burning disappeared, but it still hurt beyond nearly anything. He felt Keith grasp both of his shoulders, pinning him firmly to the ground and murmuring apology after apology and Lance reduced his attempts to break free, shuddering now and trying to calm his racing heart. It was over, gracias a Dios.

Keith shifted then, clambering over him on one side, and while one hand remained on his shoulder the other went up to card through his hair and he sobbed, leaning into the touch while the rest of him felt like he was still on fire.

"I'm so sorry," Keith whispered, "I'm so sorry. It's over." The soothing hand disappeared and Lance whined low in his throat, but it was now tugging on the plant rod and Lance gratefully let it pull that vile thing free, his jaw aching.

As soon as that was done though the hand went right back to his hair and Lance closed his eyes, trying to focus on that and only that. Clarity was coming back in little bits and pieces now and he was realizing he'd failed in his pledge to protect Keith from the pain, made all the more obvious as something dripped onto his face.

Keith was crying.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Trying to move his hands was a no-go as even just that little attempt was sending new ribbons through him. So he did the only thing he seemed capable of right now. Lance smiled.

It was by no means a mega-watt grin and probably looked as forced as it was, but it had the desired effect as Keith inhaled sharply and gasped out, "What?"

'Okay,' Lance tried to say. Whether it was a question to Keith or a pitiful attempt to describe himself Lance wasn't entirely certain, but it was okay. Sort of.

"It is not okay," Keith replied, but the deep guilt that Lance had heard in the apologies had vanished and his smile softened, becoming more natural. Good. He didn't want Keith to be upset. He'd agreed to this and they both knew it was necessary. Keith was saving Lance's life and like hell was he going to make him feel bad for that.

All too soon though Keith removed the comforting hand and sat back. Lance heard him rummaging for something and then felt a piece of cloth being draped over the wound. He hissed silently at even the light contact and Keith murmured an apology. Keith didn't attempt to wrap the wound like previous, but Lance felt several more pieces being placed and smoothed down, protecting the injury and burn from exposure.

"Rest here for a bit," Keith instructed, patting down the last bandage. If he'd had the energy Lance would have eye rolled at him because, seriously, where else was he going to go? "I'm going to scout the area."

What? No! Lance commanded his left arm to move, but it remained steadfast on the ground, pain receptors telling him nope, not moving.

"I'll be right back," Keith assured. "Promise. I just… need to make sure we're safe here. For now, at least."

And that was not the least bit comforting. Still, Lance recognized the logic in it. They had been stationary in this spot for over a varga at least and the potentially fatal wound had been dealt with for now. It made sense that they needed to secure their spot as best as they could.

He still didn't like it.

"Ten minutes tops." A hand descended on his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. "Promise."

And Lance forced himself to nod. There was a slight scuff on the stone and then all was quiet. Keith was gone.

Ten minutes.

What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

xxx

Author's Notes:

I dunno guys, what do you think? Can we avoid trouble for ten minutes? Keith and Lance would dearly like that that. So some more bonding time for our boys and a little cat nap for Keith (Keith Sleep Count is at about four hours now an Keith Kill Count is at nine for anyone else keeping track) and then some more lovely cauterization, this time from Lance's perspective because you all know how much I love to balance the pain out.

I'd love to get this back up to bi-weekly updates, so send me some encouragement with that little review button there! In return, other than a possible extra update, you will get... how about a hand squeeze from Lance? Daww, yes, share the comfort. Be mindful of his wound though and don't squeeze too hard, okay?

Shout outs to the lovely reviewers: Subtle Shenanigans, Justanangryfangirl, Adrianna Agray, geekyglamour413, Oliviadbell, WindGemini, Purplehood, Alexa, Pfeh, Guest, Belletiger BT, LishaChan, wingedflower, imagine forevermore, Aiyzu, imaginationoverload97, Guest, yazbk2988, PaintedWings45, Jennyfish26 and KarleighH! You guys are the loveliest of people, thank you for taking the time to leave a comment!