x
Trust In Me
Three
Lance hesitated outside of Hunk's door, pillow clutched in a white-knuckled grip. It was late. Hunk was going to be asleep.
Such a thing had never stopped Lance before.
He'd known Hunk since he moved to America, his first real friend. They'd had countless sleepovers, heart to hearts. Hunk had more than once held him in homesickness at the Garrison, hugged away the hurt from the teachers who had spat barbed words at him and his intelligence even before he'd taken Keith's spot where they had only become worse. Hunk had seen him at highs and lows and everything in between.
He had spent so many nights in Hunk's room or Hunk in his since they were blasted into space, finding comfort in Hunk's gentle but firm hold and the scent of honeysuckle and engine grease that followed Hunk wherever he went. He didn't sleep well and had crawled in with Hunk on multiple occasions, even while Hunk was already asleep, to hide from the oppressive quiet and the occasional nightmare.
This was no different.
Except it was.
Because Lance did not want to talk about what had driven him from his own bed after two hours of trying and failing to sleep as his eyes kept opening to watch the door and make certain no one walked in. He couldn't talk about it.
And they'd all had a long day already.
Pidge especially.
Lance's heart clenched for her, feeling her frustration and sadness pressing in on him. He had managed to regain himself enough after emptying his stomach and then taking the hottest shower the castle could provide with the bathroom door securely locked so no one could come in. Lance wanted to ask Hunk about getting a lock on his bedroom door but that would lead to questions of why and Lance couldn't answer those yet. Later. But not yet.
He'd spent the rest of the day before the transmission hiding out inside Red where no one could get in and while Red was not the calming and comforting presence Blue was, she was safe. She didn't try and ask what was wrong - Lance was both glad and upset - but she had sent a gentle (for her) assurance of safety and Lance had managed to drift off into a several hour long nap without a nightmare.
He debated going to her again tonight, but Red's patience was only so finite and sleeping in the cockpit wasn't all that comfortable anyways. But at least it was safe.
His room was not.
He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Lotor creeping up behind but the hallway was still thankfully empty.
He still paused.
Hunk had to be exhausted too and he shouldn't disturb him. They had both spent the better part of the evening sitting with Pidge, who had been let down once again. Lotor's information had been accurate (and for that Lance grudgingly had to be grateful for) and Matt had found a bunch of scientists being held in the research prison.
Just not Commander Holt.
He had been there though, not even twenty-four hours before. The others scientists had relayed that there had been an attack and Sam Holt had been taken by the intruders, who all the descriptions they could provide were Galrans of a sort who had been wearing masks obscuring their faces.
They had no idea what had happened to him or who these attackers were and since there had been no word it was doubtful it was an ally of the Coalition's.
And now they had no leads again.
Lance only prayed that since the commander had been kidnapped that he was still an important figure in the fight; that he would be kept as safe as one could be. Pidge could not lose him. She couldn't.
Matt had arrived a few hours ago, face as heartbroken and frustrated as Pidge's, and the two siblings had been holed up in Pidge's room since. Lance was glad she at least had her brother this time around.
He just wished she had her dad too.
A loud clacking noise had Lance jumping, heart thudding in his ears and his hand reached out and hit the keypad to Hunk's room without permission, nearly diving inside. He realized only after he was in the room that the later that sound was merely the oxygen filters going through their hourly cycle. Not a door. Not footsteps.
Not Lotor.
Just the stupid oxygen cycle. And now-
"Lance?" came Hunk's sleepy mumble and Lance winced. He had woken Hunk up, no doubt with his wild flail into the room.
"Um, hey," he whispered, internally kicking himself. He'd planned, if he did go to Hunk, to sneak in and just curl up while Hunk was sleeping. No questions that way. But now Hunk was awake and that plan was out the window. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to wake you."
"'s okay," was the response. In the dim lighting Lance could make out the half-lidded white sheen of Hunk's eyes. They blinked once, twice, and then were more open and alert. "You okay?"
"I… can't sleep," Lance said truthfully, hugging his pillow to his chest.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Hunk asked gently. "C'mere."
There was no reason to hang back now. Lance crossed the room and as he had so many times before crawled up from the foot of the bed, squeezing himself in between Hunk's bulk and the wall, and pillowing his head between Hunk's already outstretched arm and chest and depositing his pillow up above. He always brought it but rarely used it as Hunk was comfier than any piece of bedding.
"You're shaking," Hunk observed quietly and Lance stiffened. He hadn't even realized. A large hand came over and lightly landed on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. Lance leaned into it, hiccupping back a sob at how different this touch was which made him think of Lotor's and how wrong they were.
"What's wrong?"
Lance shook his head, trying to bury it further against Hunk's arms to hide the sudden sting of hot tears. "Estoy bien," he managed, word muffled, even though he really wasn't.
Hunk didn't contradict him although Lance knew that Hunk knew things weren't all right, but just brought his arm around from behind hugged him as much as he could.
Minutes passed and Lance felt his pulse slow back to normal, comforted by the sound of Hunk's steady heartbeat below his ear and the wall at his back and Hunk at his front and a shield from the door.
Lotor wouldn't find him here.
Lance let out a last shuddering breath, shifting his head so he could breathe a little better and not saturate Hunk's sleepshirt with the crop of tears and drippage he could feel coming down his nose. He brought a hand up and rubbed it all away as best he could.
"I'm okay," he whispered then, the words not tasting quite so bitter this time. He was all right now with Hunk there.
Hunk must have heard the change as there was a hum of confirmation and the slight tension in his body vanished.
"Sleep well, hermano."
And Lance did.
xxx
The news came the next morning over breakfast, delivered by a grim-faced Allura.
Zarkon had sent a transmission, she relayed. He was the one who had Samuel Holt in his possession and was willing to trade him… for Lotor.
Lance almost stopped breathing.
This would be where Allura said no, where Lotor was more valuable to them… but Pidge… Pidge demanded they accept the offer, voice cracking in a mixture of desperation and hope, and Matt had backed her up. Lance wanted to say something as well but he was having enough trouble with the remembering to breathe thing to offer up any words.
And Allura…
She had agreed.
Lance started breathing again.
Lotor was leaving. He was going to be gone and with him all of the glances and touches and games.
Lotor was to go with Pidge, Matt and Shiro in the Black Lion to conduct the exchange while the rest monitored from the castle.
But they weren't leaving for another varga. Preparations, Shiro said voice grim, as they could not expect Zarkon to uphold his end of the bargain. Lance excused himself from said preparations. He wasn't needed as he wasn't going to the exchange and since only Coran and Allura could maneuver the castle he didn't need to know about the formation and cannon range. All he needed to know was that worst came to worst he'd be suiting up and going with Red down to the rendezvous point.
That, and he never had to see Lotor again. He had no doubt that Zarkon's plans for his traitor son would not be pleasant, but at the same time he couldn't help but wonder if this was all part of Lotor's long game he had been playing. Because Lotor had not protested once at the idea, had willingly chosen to go along with the trade that Allura had not shown any inkling was to be a farce on their side.
No. He was still up to something.
Lance just had no idea what and there was no point in trying to figure it out. Lotor had already convinced Allura and Shiro of his sincerity then they weren't going to be looking further and anything Lance tried to say he knew Lotor would have smooth words to counter them.
And maybe a day ago he'd have made a bigger stink about this - about how wasn't it just convenient that Zarkon knew of the Holt family relation? How strange was it that Lotor wasn't fighting for his own right to freedom? - but right now he just wanted Lotor gone.
Everything could go back to normal then.
Lance was already trying to return to a sense of that normal and that started with finally picking up his room. Laundry was re-folded and put away, the bed was made, the garbage can with a ripped up note emptied. He collected all of the fallen skincare products and spent a little longer than necessary arranging them just so. He watered his plants, folded the quilts and picked up the collectibles he'd picked up in Voltron's travels.
When he was done about an hour later there was a sense of satisfaction, of peace, filling him as he surveyed his clean room. There. Done. Fresh start.
He should report to the bridge now, to give Pidge a hug before she left and then be there to watch the trade in as much moral support as he could give. This wasn't just about getting rid of Lotor, it was about giving Pidge and Matt back their dad and that was even better.
Lance nodded one last time at his room, Blue Lion slippers ready and waiting for his return next to the bed, and went to leave.
But his door was opening on its own.
Even before it fully retracted Lance knew who was on the other side.
And there was nowhere to hide.
Lotor was framed in it a moment later, completely blocking off any escape. His yellow gaze caught Lance's own ocean blue and a sharp smile pulled up the purple face.
"Ah, Lance, just who I wished to see."
Lotor stepped into the room without invitation but also without protest, as Lance's throat closed up. He swallowed heavily, trying to clear it.
He had to say something. Anything.
"Out," he managed, the word nearly physically painful to expel. He swallowed again. "Get out."
Lotor stepped further in and Lance backed up.
"I only came to say goodbye," Lotor said, steps purposeful. Like a predator stalking prey. Lance shivered.
The back of his legs hit his bed frame.
There was nowhere else to go.
Lotor continued to stalk closer.
"I do not know when I will see you again," Lotor continued. "But I do know I will miss you very dearly."
He was just a foot away now and showed no signs of stopping his approach.
Lance tried to somehow go further back even though he logically knew there was nowhere to go. His calves pressed up against the bedframe and the pressure, the shift in gravity as his torso leaned away was enough to send him falling, landing with a gasp of surprise on his back.
He hurried to sit up, heart thrumming, but Lotor was already there.
Lance choked on his next breath as hands descended on his shoulders, pinning him against the mattress and all of Lotor's weight leaned over him, long silver hair hanging down to brush his face.
"L-let me go," and he did not whimper, he did not, but there was no use in denying that as Lotor smirked at him, a dark amusement in that look.
"Let me give you a proper goodbye," Lotor murmured. Lance tried to shift one of his feet, dangling over by the knee, but Lotor pressed his own legs up against them and his hands dug harder into Lance's shoulders.
Lance vaguely wondered if this time there would be fingerprints left behind.
He wondered if that was the worst thing Lotor could do.
He was going to be sick.
"I would like to thank you," Lotor smiled, an unkind thing. "For amusing me so."
One purple hand - no gloves, Lance didn't know why he noted that - left his shoulder to come up and caress Lance's face.
He flinched away but the hand tightened, holding his head still.
"I know that you do not trust me, but do trust in me when I say this…"
Lotor leaned forward, nearly nose to nose and primal gaze boring into Lance's. "You are by far my new favorite toy."
Lotor straightened somewhat then, shifting his hand to card through Lance's bangs before trailing it down Lance's cheek and letting it come to rest almost tenderly around his chin, thumb reaching up to brush at Lance's lips.
Lance closed his eyes, shuddering.
He couldn't watch anymore.
Out of sight, out of mind.
If only.
His eyes flew back open as he felt a foreign pair of lips descend upon his cheek, hellfire left behind in the kiss.
Oh Dios.
"I thank you for playing with me, Lance," Lotor smiled down at him. "I shall not forget our time together."
Lotor finally stood to his full height then, removing his weight that had kept Lance pinned to the bed.
Lance didn't dare move.
Lotor let out a soft laugh and lifted his hand in farewell. "Until next time, Lance."
And in a last flash of silver and purple and the whoosh of the door opening and closing Lotor was gone.
Out of sight…
But not out of mind.
Lance lurched from the bed and barely made it to garbage can before he was expelling the contents of his stomach into it, hot tears stinging his eyes.
Oh Dios.
It had been a game. All of it had been a game, an amusement, a way for Lotor to curb his boredom.
And he had been the… the..
The toy. The plaything. The attraction.
Lance vomited again, all acid bile this time.
And he had played right into it.
He'd let Lotor do… do all of that and he hadn't stopped him. Hadn't said anything.
He could never say anything.
What they would think of him? To know that he allowed Lotor to do those things, say those things, and he'd just… let him?
He wouldn't be just a fill-in Paladin if they found out how pathetic he was.
No.
If they found out…
He wouldn't be a Paladin at all.
But…
But it was fine now. It was over. Lotor was leaving and no matter what devious plans he had up his sleeve he was no longer on board the castle. No longer here to stab someone in the back, to betray a trust, to put his hands on-
Lance retched once more, feeling the phantom touch at just the memory.
"You're fine," he whispered to himself, as though that was any more convincing than repeating it in his head. "You're fine. It's over. He's gone. He's g-gone."
He repeated it a few more times, with each pass the words sounding less like a plea and more like an assurance.
Lotor was gone.
It was over.
He was going to be fine.
Lance straightened from the garbage can, wincing at its contents.
He grabbed it, forced himself to stand, and then hurriedly exited his room for the bathroom.
There he disposed of the evidence down the toilet and rinsed the can out in the shower.
All gone.
He gave his teeth a thorough brushing, spitting out the lingering taste of sickness, and then turned his attention to his face, blotting at the tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes with a cloth, scrubbing extra hard on the spot where purple lips had left an invisible mark.
When he was done he looked like a sad version of himself.
A broken toy.
He shuddered and looked away from the mirror.
A moment later he glanced back, forcing his lips into a smile that did not reach his eyes.
He tried again and again until it did.
He was not broken.
He couldn't afford to be.
He didn't know how much longer he could remain in the role of Red Paladin, but until Keith was ready to take it back he would be the best one he could.
Lotor was going to leave and he would take his poisoned words with him. And Lance would stand up, brush himself off and move past this.
As a real Paladin should.
Even a fill-in like him was capable of that.
At least…
He hoped he was.
He hoped their trust in him wasn't misplaced.
He would do his best. Give it his all.
Because Voltron was going to make the universe a better place, no matter his part.
And that at least he could trust in.
Author's Notes:
And then Lotor comes back xD Haha, whoops. But at least at this point he's got the whole regicide thing going on and is going to be more focused on becoming emperor himself (and furthering his agenda) and he's not going to have the time to play with his toys, so Lance will be mostly safe-ish from his attentions going forward. Not quite a "happy" ending (at all xD) and none of that face-punching of Lotor or confrontation from Hunk I saw a few of you express hopes for, but this bated breath silence fits much more with the theme of this story as well as what often happens in situations of emotional abuse like this, especially when the victim insists that "nothing happened" like Lance does here. Poor baby. He needs some more hugs.
Give him some hugs and the author some love with a final comment on the fic. I'd love to hear from you and appreciate you taking the time to leave a comment! Thanks!