x

The Purity of Sin

Twenty

The High Priest knew something had gone terribly wrong even before the messenger had reached the chapel door.

There was no flurry of pawsteps or excited clamors and yowls for him to finish the ceremony. There was only a single, weary set of claws striking the stone and nothing else.

He looked up from his prayer as Elder Simone entered the room, a blood-soaked cloth pressed to her shoulder and a horrified resignation in her eyes.

"We failed, High Priest," she murmured, sinking to the ground as he hurried to her, helping to lower her the rest of the way to a more comfortable kneel. "I am so sorry."

"What happened?"

She shook her head. "The Red and Black Paladin. He… he fought. He killed so many. Too many." She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes in remembrance. "But... but even then salvation was still in our reach thanks to the courageous sacrifices of our Brothers and Sisters. We nearly had the sacrifice when… when..."

"When?"

"A great creature came down from the sky," she whispered. "Just like the other two beasts we have contained. It shot blue fire and we had no choice but to retreat. And when it left… the sacrifice and the Red and Black Paladin were gone."

"Gone," the High Priest repeated, falling none-too-gracefully back on his haunches. "Gone."

"We have failed," Simone whispered. "Condemned our kin to death. And yet… and yet I cannot even be angry, High Priest. I do not even understand it myself, these blasphemous words. But yet I speak them. The Red and Black Paladin… he called the sacrifice 'brother.'"

She looked up and met the same amber orbs as her own. "Never before has an outside sacrifice claimed kin. We know all too well the pain of losing family to the Purity of Sin, but we understand that it must be done for the good of the rest. These Paladins of Voltron… they did not understand that. They only saw us, saw our actions, as that of monsters." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Are we monsters, High Priest?"

"No, Simone, no," he shushed, stroking a comforting paw down her injured arm. "We do what must be done as Lady Leora requests and being chosen for the Purity of Sin is a great honor. The sacrifice leaves their physical body and transcends into something greater than we mortals can ever hope to be."

"But they did not know that, Damien," she whispered, giving them both a start at his birth name that had not been used since he had been made High Priest over ten years ago. "They did not know what awaited them. All they saw was pain and suffering and that is all we gave them."

She shook her head. "Perhaps we deserve this fate."

"No," the High Priest said firmly. "No. Do not think that."

"So many dead," she murmured. "For what? To save one of our own for another no-moon cycle? And yet instead we have countless who have passed long before their time, in terrible, violent ways without even Lady Leora to guide them."

"Their deaths will not be in vain."

"How? Without the sacrifice we cannot complete the ritual and… and then…"

The High Priest took a deep breath. "I will offer myself to Lady Leora. Perhaps a High Priest will be a suitable sacrifice to make up for the previous loss."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Damien, no. You cannot. Oh, brother, you cannot—"

"I must. And you, my dear sister, shall take on the mantle of High Priestess."

Her paws flew to her muzzle. "No. No. I refuse. I—"

"This is what must be done and I shall accept my fate proudly." He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. But this was the only course. If anything could sate Lady Leora now that the original sacrifice had been taken from them perhaps it would be the blood of the one chosen as High Priest.

It was, after all, his decision to use the outsiders as sacrifices that had caused all of this tragedy. It was only right that he paid the sin of failure with his own life.

"Come," he murmured, holding out a paw to assist Simone to her feet. "We must inform the Council of Elders and prepare. But first, let us look to our grieving kin and do what we can for them. And after we shall complete a new Purity of Sin and pray that Lady Leora is forgiving."

And in solemn silence the two Mackans left the chapel.

xxx

Keith came to with the sound of hushed but excited voices above him, broken up by squeaks and the scent of something that almost smelled like basil.

Apparently he must have sniffed a little too deeply as suddenly there were multiple voices going "Keith!" and he felt a pair of small hands latch onto his arm.

He blinked open still tired eyes, the faces of Hunk and Pidge filling his vision.

"Waking up there, buddy?" Hunk asked. "Come on, we've got some delicious food goo for you."

"Food goo?" he repeated, struggling to sit up and hissing as the cold air of the infirmary bit at his still bare chest as the blankets fell away and he hurriedly pulled one over his shoulders. Where was the good smelling thing? Food goo, while not awful and nowhere near the bugs he'd been forced to eat, was not really all that appetizing.

"Nice, healthy, nutritious, easy on the stomach food goo," Hunk said, depositing a heaping bowl onto his blanket-covered legs. "All of which you need right now. Eat up, we've got a lot to talk about."

"Lance?" Keith asked, not even embarrassed that his new default was apparently to ask after Lance every time upon waking.

Hunk gave him a soft, fond smile. "Still sleeping. Coran said it'd be best if we can keep him under until we enact our plan since his body is so weak. But he's doing okay, all things considered."

Keith looked across the bed to confirm this for himself, relief filling him as Allura gave him a little half-wave where she was stationed in the chair next to Lance's head and her long fingers were gently brushing through the brown locks.

"Are you feeling more rested?" she inquired as their gazes met.

"How long was I asleep?"

"About three varga," Pidge said, digging into what looked like some orange pasta with a sauce and Keith's stomach grumbled jealously. "Nowhere near enough, but I guess your body has adapted to a shorter sleep cycle right now, so I'm not surprised you awoke so soon. It'll be back to bed with once we're all done with this though, got it?"

"I'm fine, really," Keith said, and he meant it. There was lingering exhaustion, yes, but it was nothing compared to what he'd experienced in the desert extremes. "Now what plan?"

"And there's our Keith," Pidge grinned around her pasta.

"Eat your food goo first," Hunk told him, joining him on the bed. "We've got to wait for Coran to come back first anyways."

Keith did so, scarfing it down. But as soon as it was gone he was sliding his feet over the edge of the bed, wincing as bare toes touched down on cold metal, and crossed the few feet over to Lance's bed. No one stopped him and he could feel the soft look Hunk was giving him as he pulled himself onto Lance's bed and sat down.

He needed to confirm it for himself that Lance was all right. He reached out a tentative hand to the bandaged face, tracing the now familiar curve of Lance's high cheekbone and up into his hair. Allura had retreated her own hand and sat watching the interaction with the same fond smile Hunk was sporting.

A breath shuddered out of Keith as he felt the slow, steady puff of Lance's breath against his hand. Not hot, not cold, just air.

"You two went through a lot, huh?" Hunk remarked softly as Keith brought his hand back to card through the dark hair.

"You could say that," Keith all but whispered, hating that prickling feeling in his throat and eyes that kept popping up.

"I'm glad Lance had you with him," Hunk said sincerely and Keith felt a large hand descend on his shoulder. "Thank you," he continued, voice rough. "For being there for him. For bringing him home."

"He was there for me too," Keith choked out, not even minding when he felt Hunk's arms wrap him in a hug from behind. He actually leaned into it, accepting the comfort. "If… if he hadn't… hadn't… we'd both be…"

He felt Pidge lay a small hand on his arm and Allura leaned across the bed to place her own against Keith's that was still resting in Lance's hair.

"You saved one another," Allura murmured. "You protected him and Lance protected you. That is what family is, Keith. What a family does."

"Family?" He wasn't even aware he'd repeated the word, hearing it ring in his head. He'd felt that bond, that closeness, back when he'd thought he'd first lost Lance. When he came to realize how much the other boy meant to him, how important he was. It had grown stronger, those feelings of love and protectiveness, as the days had dragged on.

And then he'd actually said it aloud. He'd called Lance a brother to the Mackans, declaring the other boy his family. It hadn't sunk in until just now though what that meant.

"You and Lance are brothers, are you not?" Allura smiled. "Just as we too are all a part of your family."

"Brother," Keith breathed. It felt right, like a missing piece had been restored. For so long he had been alone, bouncing from one 'family' to the other with none to call his own. And then he'd found Shiro and he had the closest thing to family he'd had since his father passed.

But then Shiro disappeared and now he'd disappeared again. And it had hurt. Something had been ripped inside him, torn away at this newest loss. He didn't think he could go through it again, that pain.

And yet, watching Lance scream as flames had wrapped about him, he'd realized that no matter how hard he tried to pretend that Team Voltron wasn't his family that was a lie. They were his family. They were the best family he'd ever had.

He had sisters now in Pidge and Allura. Brothers in Lance and Hunk and Shiro. And the combination of loving dad and goofy uncle wrapped up in Coran.

"Family," he whispered again, unable to stop the smile.

"Yeah man," Hunk sniffled and the hug tightened. "And don't you forget it."

"I'm missing out on this group hug?" came the affronted and amused voice of Coran. Keith couldn't see the advisor, ensconced as he was in Hunk's arms and Allura's now wrapping around from the side, but he felt the Altean join the embrace.

He let out a sound between a sob and a laugh. He just wished Lance was awake to see this and be a part of it. But as he glanced down at the boy who had brought them all together he startled as dull blue eyes were gazing up at him.

"Lance!" he gasped, starting a chain reaction and Allura released the swordsman from her hold so he could lean forward.

Lance tilted his head ever so slightly into Keith's hand, a small smile tugging up his lips. 'Keith,' he silently whispered, and Keith let out another sob. He mouthed something else that eventually Keith realized was, 'We're home.'

"Yeah we are." His other hand moved to Lance's shoulder and he squeezed it. "We did it."

Lance smiled wider, nuzzling his face into the familiar hand. Everything was pleasantly numb and his mind was foggy but he would recognize the feel of Keith's hand anywhere and waking to it, whole and sound, let him breathe near fully again.

It meant Keith was safe. No matter what happened, that had been the most important thing. Lance would have given up all of his other senses if it had meant that Keith was saved.

Other hands were petting his hair now – Hunk, he recognized, and the slender one must be Allura – and small hands were once more on his arm and another large hand was on his shoulder. Pidge and Coran.

They were all here. They were all here and everything was going to be okay now. He knew it.

The rest of the group was sharing smiles at the unseeing Lance and each other. It wasn't quite the perfect reunion yet, but Lance knew they were there and he was smiling and it was as much as they could expect at this point.

"I'm going to administer another round of sedative," Coran said, readying a small vial. "Looks like human bodies burn through it faster than an Altean. Number Four, keep your hand there please until it takes effect."

Keith had no intention of moving it at all, thumb brushing lazy circles on Lance's cheek. He could feel when the sedative had kicked in for as relaxed as Lance had been in the absence in most of the pain he went even more limp under Keith's hand, eyes drifting shut with a flutter of lashes.

"We do need to move quickly," Coran said as he put the empty vial away. "We have only two pints of blood left and at this rate those will be gone within the next… three varga or so."

"So what is the plan?" Keith asked again, settling back more comfortably on the bed and continuing nearly unconsciously his caress, the feeling of Lance's soft breaths pulsing against his hand calming him in a way nothing else could right now.

Everyone started to babble as one – Coran talking about the ritual, Allura about Altean physiology while Pidge launched into an explanation of cloaking and thrusters and Hunk was asking him about… sewing?

Keith held up a hand and to his surprise everyone fell silent. Huh. Apparently being labeled the leader, no matter how much he still didn't want the title, did have some perks.

"One at a time. Please," he added.

"I shall go first," Coran said, looking around the group. "As I mentioned, the Purity of Sin sounded familiar. I perused some of our books on various planets and found Macka's history. They have always performed a ritual called the Purity of Sin to honor their goddess, Leora, but it was not the sacrifice ritual you encountered."

"It was always done by the High Priest or Priestess and a group of Elders," Allura chimed in. "To better able to commune with Leora they would undergo the Purity of Sin by abstaining from the three sins - speaking, hearing and seeing - for the duration of a no-moon cycle. The High Priest or Priestess would go a step further and use actual magic to remove all three Sins from his or her body for that time period."

"And they were able to return them," Coran said excitedly. "Obviously the ritual has changed given the painful nature of enacting it, but at one point the removal of the senses was reversible."

"So they can change Lance back," Keith breathed, eyes flicking to Lance.

"Exactly," Coran grinned. His face sobered. "I could not locate anywhere in the texts though how this gross distortion of an otherwise peaceful ritual happened."

"Ten thousand years and the Galra happened," Allura said, voice sharp. "I know not how, but something changed their culture and I have no doubts as to where that poison came from."

"So they're not bad… not really," Hunk said quietly. "Not the way Zarkon is."

Keith inclined his head. "They're not," he agreed. "They… they care about each other. What they did was wrong," he continued, voice hardening. "And unforgivable. But…" and he sighed, blaming Lance and his compassion for even making him think this, "they're not bad. They're misguided. They do this to their own, it sounds like, and Lance and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That's horrifying," Pidge whispered. "They sacrifice their own people?"

Keith nodded, thinking back to the Initiates, the children he'd seen. He wondered if they were sacrificial candidates too and he his stomach rolled at the thought.

"Which brings us to the the first part of our plan," Coran intervened before the discussion could get too off track. "Leora is a staple in both their past and their present and is obviously someone they will listen to. If we were to have a certain Altean princess shapeshift into a Mackan of the regality and stature of a goddess and order the Mackans to restore Number Three's senses…"

"You can do that?" Keith asked, jaw dropping as he turned to look at Allura.

"I will do my best," she said, lips pressed firm. "I admit, I did not come close to finishing my training before…" she trailed off. "But I am confident I can manage some of their main features. My largest struggle will be shrinking my body as I have always struggled with downsizing my skeleton."

Pidge though shook her head. "Stay big, Princess. A goddess should be larger than life, right? Besides, if you're going to be carrying Lance you'll need a larger body so he doesn't swamp you."

"That does make sense," Allura nodded. "Thank you, Pidge, for the insight. Very well. I shall focus then on adopting the feline features of the Mackans."

"For this to work we're going to need some high-tech," Pidge added. "Hunk and I are going to rig up a hoverpack for Allura and some flashy lights to give her that goddess vibe. Problem is we need an outfit."

"White is the color of purity," Coran said. "While the princess has many gowns she has none that are pure white to benefit our purpose. I consider myself a well-learned man, but I am afraid that the art of sewing is beyond me and I fear I shall rip the stitches in any attempt to alter the dress."

Several pairs of hopeful eyes turned to Keith. "Do you, perhaps lad, know how to sew?" Coran asked.

"If I say no?" Keith hedged, but Pidge frowned at him.

"Uh uh, none of that. I know I saw you patching your jacket."

"I can fix things," Keith stressed. "Like holes and buttons. That's a lot different than sewing a dress!"

"We wouldn't need you to make a whole dress," Coran clarified. "Just take elements from various ones of Princess Allura's and combine them."

Keith stared around the group. "You're serious."

"One hundred percent," Pidge smirked. "You get to save the day with your seamstress skills."

"It'd be a tailor," Keith grumbled, but he nodded even as Hunk and Pidge shared a sad look in Lance's direction that he did not understand and he hurried to add to , "Fine. I'll do it."

"We'll also need white clothing for Lance," Allura added. "A shirt and tunic. It doesn't have to be fancy, but it does need to be all white. We cannot have him looking at all like a sacrifice."

"I don't suppose you have those lying around, do you?" Keith sighed, already seeing where this was going.

"Afraid not, but we do have many bolts of cloth for the undyed banners," Coran said cheerfully. "For a tailor of your caliber I'm certain you could figure something out."

Keith only sighed. But he would do whatever he could to help. He was by no means skilled in the technology aspect and he would be useless in helping Allura look more Mackan. Sewing it was.

"Everyone clear on your tasks?" Allura asked, receiving nods. "Good. We shall reconvene in two varga here. By that time we must be ready to go as Lance does not have the essence of time."

"I'm not leaving him," Keith said, making no move to shift off the bed. He'd sew whatever he could, but he was going to do it right here with Lance in his full sight. He recognized that he was being more than a little overprotective by this point, but no one called him on it as they all understood.

"I shall fetch you the cloth and gowns then," Coran said, "and assist you in any way I can."

"We've got to go to Green's hangar," Pidge said, looking put out. "I can't bring all of the tools here that I need."

"We'll be back as soon as we can," Hunk promised. He stood up and squeezed both Keith and Lance's shoulders. "Hang tight."

"I will be heading for my room," Allura said, straightening her dress. "I need a large mirror in which to practice." Under her breath as she exited Keith caught, "Alaaran help me."

Within the minute the entire room had cleared save for Keith and Lance. The former Red Paladin realized after a second that maybe he should have asked for someone to bring him actual clothes.

Red stained his features as he felt the elastic around his hips give way even more as he shifted on the bed and he made a mental note that he was never, not even on the verge of death, going into cryo again without a suit. Hunk had told them he'd only been in there for just over three varga; any longer and he doubted he'd even have this much left.

He wrapped the blanket more firmly about his lower half and readjusted the one over his shoulders. Part of him said that when Coran came back it wouldn't take too long to nip down to his rooms and get a suitable replacement, but his stomach clenched at the thought of leaving Lance when he was like this.

It's not that he didn't trust the others to take care of him. Coran had even said Lance had been able to recognize Hunk and calmed down right after. But he still couldn't leave. Not when Lance was still in pain and confused and scared. He'd promised to fix this and he wasn't leaving until that was true.

But to his great relief when Coran returned about ten dobashes later, besides an array of very frilly looking gowns and a giant bolt of cloth – reminding Keith once again the strength of Alteans – he had a familiar knapsack in hand.

Coran's eyes crinkled into a smile as Keith practically snatched the bag with a hurried thanks.

"There's a small washroom right off the infirmary," the Altean advised. "Go ahead. I'll keep vigil over Number Three."

Deciding two minutes would be acceptable, Keith all but raced to the small bathroom and was back shortly thereafter, refreshed and clothed. Also, he noted, very tan. Or, well, parts of him were. The cryo-pod had healed the sunburn but it hadn't faded back to his normal pale complexion. Nope. His arms, face and upper neck were at least ten shades darker than the rest of him and he unfortunately lacked any high collared shirts to hide the obvious line on his neck. It looked ridiculous but he supposed he'd never cared much for appearances anyway and this was a minuscule price to pay. Lance he imagined would have been horrified and it brought the tiniest smirk to his face.

When he returned to the infirmary he ended up sitting on the floor, back to the bed he'd been on so he could easily keep Lance in his sights as fabric and gowns stretched out all around him.

"Now," Coran said, holding up another small bag. "These are all the supplies I could find that seemed to be related to sewing. "

"Is there a seam ripper?" Keith asked, pulling the whitest gown they had to him and eyeing the blue overlay and gold threading.

"Hmmmm, let's see here," Coran said, dumping the entire bag onto the second bed. "We've got a crumsnupet, a bolliedog, this weird lever-looking thing…"

Keith ended up having to scour the items himself and found something close to his desired item – a sanosuke, Coran informed him – and he got to work ripping apart a clearly well-made and designed dress.

"Can you keep doing that all along the blue seams?" Keith asked, handing off the gown and sanosuke to Coran. "I'm going to start trying to make clothes for Lance." Trying was the key word because Keith really had no idea what he was doing. At all.

"Of course, lad," Coran said, taking to the task with gusto.

Keith wondered how much Lance would hate him if he made him a giant shapeless nightgown like object and called it a day. A smirk turned up his lips at that, but he shook his head. He could at least try to make something a little more fitting and use that as a fallback.

He wracked his brain back to the good old home education classes he'd encountered in one of his many middle schools as he bounced around. Start with a pattern, he remembered that much.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he laid it across the large broadcloth. Obviously he was going to need the sleeves longer and the body longer given Lance's height. But it didn't need to be perfect; baggy and flowing would be easier anyway with all of Lance's injuries.

Grabbing a marking pen from the stash of supplies Keith took a deep breath and pressed it to the white fabric. A small black dot appeared.

One mark down. A thousand more to go. And with an energy normally reserved only for fighting and training, Keith took on his newest opponent: clothes making.

xxx

Lance was getting worse. It was no surprise, really. Even with the sedative and painkillers in him his body had been pushed beyond the brink and the wounds were either too deep to heal or imbued with magic preventing it at all.

He was also starting to come back to, if the fluttering of his eyes beneath closed lids and the increasing heart rate were any indication. Yet he had not fully awoken and so Keith had set up his post in the chair right next to the bed and was carding his hand through the dark hair once more.

He and Coran had finished and both were patting themselves on the back. Coran was an insanely quick learner, Keith had discovered, and once he'd shown the older man how to actually wield a needle to attach the white silk overlay they'd freed from another dress, he'd taken to it like a fish to water.

The dress was by no means the quality of the ones they had destroyed to make it. But it was, Keith thought, quite exquisite with two amateurs making it. They'd commandeered silk ribbons and overlays from other pieces along with jewels that reminded Keith a bit of pearls but square instead of spheres and stones that sparkled like diamonds. It had multiple layers, both to hide the tech that Hunk and Pidge were working on as well as to give her that larger than life feeling.

Lance's outfit was much more simple. A (hopefully) large enough shirt and a very simple pair of pants that Keith had the sinking feeling were going to cut off mid-calf after he'd stitched them up. He also had zero idea on how to cinch the waist so he'd ended up making a couple loops and threading a strip of white cloth to be used as a drawstring belt.

They were going to wait until the last minute possible to change Lance into them as they wanted them to remain pure white and even with bandages Lance's wounds were too unpredictable.

Keith had watched in morbid fascination as Coran had changed the ones wrapped around Lance's hands and neck, his stomach heaving at the former. In the bright light of the infirmary they appeared even more grievous and beyond painful; burned flesh mixed with the gaping wound with infection lingering on the edges.

"You did what you had to, my boy," Coran said gently as he observed Keith's eyes lingering on the palm-wide burn on the right hand.

"I know," he whispered. "But still…"

But still, he'd done so much these past few days he was not proud of. Burning Lance. Killing the Mackans. Giving into hopelessness that without Lance he may have fully drowned in. What kind of leader, let alone person, did that?

Coran gave his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Do not be so hard on yourself, Keith. Above all you must remember that you were protecting Lance and yourself. Do not forget that."

Keith managed a nod.

The solemn silence was broken by the arrival of Hunk and Pidge, both grinning wide.

"Where's the booster pack?" Keith asked, as the only thing the two were carrying was a tablet and what looked like a small shoe box.

"Here," Hunk announced, holding up the latter item. "It's so neat. We managed to incorporate the hover technology with the…" he trailed off with a shake of his head. "Never mind all that. But we managed to make it small and inconspicuous so there won't be any actual booster jets or noise. Should hold for about a varga, not that we should need that long."

Pidge held up her tablet. "And I've got all the links here so we can control it from our end and move Allura around. How'd the dress go?"

Keith pointed at what he and Coran had devised and Hunk let out a low whistle. "That's really beautiful, man."

"I am finished too," Allura's voice rang from the doorway and everyone turned.

It took all Keith had not to reach for his blade, secured in a new sheath and resting on his hip, as she entered.

Gone was her flawless dark skin and jewel-bright eyes. Instead she had transformed her skin to the lightest of creams and tufts of fur could be seen peeking down her arms underneath the slip of a white dress she had pulled on. Her hands had rounded into paws and grown thicker.

But it was her face that caused the most alarm. She had elongated her nose into a snout and canines were visible as she spoke. Her eyes had turned amber and the same soft fur covered her new features. Her hair was still the same, somehow seeming even more silver-white, and a tiny pair of cream ears poked out of the top. She had changed out of her gold circle and replaced it with a near match but in silver with a small clear crystal in the middle and her earrings of the same stone.

"That's amazing," Hunk gushed, rushing over to more closely examine the changes.

"The nose is a little off," Allura admitted, gingerly raising one of her paws. "And I admit I am having trouble grasping onto things. But it will pass muster, yes?"

Keith nodded, heart in his throat. He couldn't help it. It's not that he was scared of the Mackans, but seeing one of the creatures that he had developed a significant fight or flight response to was not at all good for his nerves.

Allura seemed to have picked up on his distress and she sent him a sorrowful smile, which only made her look like the one Elder Mackan who had tried to bargain for Lance and he was unable to stop the shudder that raced through him.

"I am sorry," Allura apologized, keeping her distance.

"'s not your fault," he managed. "It… it's really good, Princess."

"How is Lance?" she asked, maintaining her spot by the door.

"Waking up, I'm afraid," Coran said, pulling on his moustache. "I don't dare give him any more sedative either as it won't react well with the pod and hopefully he'll be in one before the next varga is over."

"Then let us hurry," Allura said. "Pidge, would you assist me in dressing? I cannot do much with these paws I am afraid."

"Uh, sure." Pidge went to pick up the dress and followed Allura out, likely to the small bathroom Keith had already used.

"That is our cue then," Coran said. "Come, let us get him dressed so we can finish this." And despite his attempt at joviality Keith could hear the undercurrent of worry in the advisor's voice.

Lance came to as they were easing him into sitting with a soundless gasp and unseeing eyes flying open, hands scrabbling uselessly on the bed. A line of blood dripped down his neck, winning its battle against the bandages and Coran uttered a soft swear.

"Hey, hey," Keith murmured, placing a hand against Lance's cheek and turning the head in his direction. Hunk and Coran disappeared from view entirely as he focused solely on Lance, brushing his thumb over the cheekbone and bringing his other up to press lightly in Lance's hair.

'Keith?' Lance mouthed.

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered, even though Lance couldn't hear. He rubbed his thumb over the cheek again. "It's okay."

He could feel Lance relax, but still slumping forward with exhaustion and pain. Hunk was there then, one of his large hands on Lance's shoulder and helping him to lean back. Lance went easily with it, a tiny smile tugging up his mouth as he voiced a silent 'Hunk.'

"All right," Coran's voice sounded behind him. "Let's add another bandage there on the neck and clean up the blood. Number Two, if you could continue supporting him please and Number Four, I leave it to you to get the shirt on. Just let me pull the vein valve free first…"

Lance winced as hands lightly dabbed at his neck, which he realized based on process of elimination must be Coran's. Keith's were still steady on his face and Hunk's on his back and shoulder, until Keith's disappeared.

Taking their place was the feeling of some type of rough fabric and he whined as it scratched against his skin. It was going over his head, he realized. A shirt? Why were they dressing him though, and in something so scratchy at that?

He had one terrifying moment as whatever it was covered his face completely and his breath hitched as he wondered if he was going to suffocate even as his mind told him he was being stupid because it was obviously his friends doing it.

And a tick later it was off his nose and mouth and pooling instead about the base of his neck. Hunk's hand left for a moment and came back, no longer pressed on bare skin but on the cloth of the shirt.

Lance let out a silent whimper as he felt Keith's hands grasp his right forearm and guide it up. He flinched as the movement pulled on his chest wound and he could almost hear the muttered apologies from Keith. He tried after that to be as compliant as possible, knowing that they wouldn't be doing this without a reason.

Even if he had absolutely no idea why.

A few painful minutes later Lance could feel material encircling both of his arms and despite how stiff it was another smile formed on his lips. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have actual clothes again, even if getting them on was reminding him of when he'd played dolls with his sisters.

But then he was being shifted again and the blanket that had been covering his lower half was yanked away and he let out a reflexive yelp at the cold air, jerking back against Hunk's hold. A flush stained his cheeks a moment later as he realized, yup, he wasn't wearing anything under there.

But the embarrassment was gone as quickly as it had come on as he was moved again and dull pain and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Hands pet through his hair and his legs were lifted and slid into the same coarse material as the shirt.

He winced as hands touched along his lower back where something ached beyond measure before he was finally lied back down on the nice soft bedding. He let out a silent little breath, head spinning still.

All was calm then, with Keith's hand back on his cheek and Hunk's in his hair. Their combined touch was making the pain a little duller, the panic a little less sharp. He took a steadying breath then, willing his pulse to slow. Whatever was going on was okay. His friends, his family, were there. It was all right.

He felt his left hand being lifted a few minutes later, no longer encased in a mitten of bandages like Keith had applied but each finger wrapped individually and leaving the tips bare. Said tips touched upon flesh and Lance traced it lightly, realizing after a few ticks that it was Keith's face.

Okay then…?

Then his hand was moving, still in Keith's gentle hold, and it lighted on something else.

Something furry.

He shrieked in alarm and tried to pull back from it, but Keith's grip was firm.

What was this? He turned his head in what he assumed was Keith's direction, panic flaring. Why was there a Mackan here? Why was Keith making Lance touch the Mackan?

'No,' he whispered, shaking his head and trying to pull back as Keith shifted his grip and Lance felt his hand tracing up the Mackan's face. 'No. Please. Keith! Stop!'

Hunk's hand was stroking his hair again even as Keith continued to pull Lance's against the soft fur, climbing higher and higher.

He swallowed back the sob, regretting it as the action caused his throat to hitch painfully. What was going on? It had to be something, some type of plan. They would never endanger him like this. What was he not seeing? (Other than everything his mind supplied, and Lance didn't know whether he should laugh or cry at the thought).

Lance desperately tried to get the pounding of his pulse under control so he could more fully concentrate on what it was they were trying to tell him. He'd traced Keith's face first. And now a Mackan's.

And now his hand was being lifted further up the Mackan's face to brush against something metallic. A headpiece? His fingertips traced the design, feeling the sharp edges of a downwards triangle and a jewel. Now why was that so familiar?

His eyes widened in realization a moment later. 'Allura?' he hedged and the hand on his shoulder gave a squeeze of possible confirmation. He repeated his guess and received another squeeze.

That's right. Alteans could shapeshift. He'd only seen Allura do it the one time, turning herself larger and purple to pass as a Galran in that terribly failed mission that he tried not to think too much about. So she had shifted to look like a Mackan to do… what, exactly?

They seemed to have taken his stilled movements for confirmation themselves because the next thing Lance knew he was being lifted up completely from the bed, furred paws tickling him even through the fabric, as he was hoisted lengthwise into a set of arms that had to be Allura's.

Then he was moving, gait indicating that they were walking quickly, and he closed his eyes, tucking his head up into the crook of Allura's arm and feeling silk against his cheek. He nuzzled that bit, focusing on its satin rather than the fur.

He hated not knowing what was happening or what this plan of theirs entailed, but at least this time he did know he was surrounded by his family and they were going to protect him.

And that was all he really, truly needed.

xxx

Author's Notes:

To battle we go! Or, well, whatever we're calling this. A deception, maybe? A ritual of our own? Enough blood has been shed and as we all know the Mackans aren't evil; just misguided, and I think all of our team would prefer to avid any further casualties. Plus, I'm excited to use the Alteans' shapeshifting abilities. Only used once in canon? For shame.

Thanks to the lovely reviewers who keep me going: hobbes101, Pfeh, MandyRaccoon, JeromeHaddock15 (You have PMs disabled so thank you for letting me know!), WhiteTails, An Amber Pen, Guest, Aiyzu, dragoscilvio, Adrianna Agray, ASleepDeprivedPineapple, The Striking Storms, Alexa, Wolf of the Demise, TheFullmetalBitch, ChocolateMonkey, imagine forevermore, Genni C, momoluvr11, wingedflower, migrane, Justanangryfangirl, PaintedWings45, The-Angst-Chronicles and TheTheoryofFangirling!

And guys, I missed seeing so many of you last chapter. :( Don't quit on me now! We've only got two chapters left to go; let's finish strong together! Drop a comment below with your thoughts! Please and thank you!