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As Color Fades Away
Chapter Five
Lance was shoved unceremoniously back into the cell he'd first awoken in, unable to stop his stumble from the push and crashed into the far wall and had him uttering a short scream as pain erupted in his chest at the hit. The door closed behind him, plunging the room back into near darkness save the lone purple light next to the door. The only thing that seemed to have changed was that his pile of vomit had been removed. Strangely kind of them.
He took a shuddering breath and then another, stretching his jaw at the reminder that he could do so again and shuddering at the recollection, as brief as it had been.
He'd been completely powerless then. Physically restrained and then forced to be silent.
Lance hated it.
He hated more how much it was still affecting him.
He sank down to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms about them despite the pain it caused to radiate as his wound stretched. The previously cold cell seemed even colder now and he shivered, the action sending another jolt through him. He wrapped his arms tighter.
It didn't really help.
He coughed lightly, relieved still again to hear the sound. "A..." he swallowed, throat aching lightly from its previous screaming, "A blanket would be nice," he called, assuming that there were cameras hidden somewhere in this cell. If he were the Galra he'd most definitely have a camera. "Some water and food too. But no Paladin Lunch, if you can manage it." He tried to smile, it probably came out a grimace, but he kept it up.
He couldn't let them get to him. He had no idea what his plan was at this point but appearing weak was not on the agenda.
Silence greeted his request, but he wasn't surprised. He didn't expect to actually get any of those items but... well, they did have to keep him alive, right? And other than providing basic medical care, they hadn't done much. Even now he could feel that the bandages were slightly wet and sticky. He tried not to think about it.
Thinking about it made him think of blood which made him think of the Galrans which made him think of the one he'd ki–
Phase one, he interrupted himself. Not that it was really a better change of topic but it wasn't about–
Phase one. He wondered what it meant. Nothing good, surely. But so far... well, other than being cold and wracked by tremors from his previous wounds phase one wasn't so bad. He was all for not being tortured.
And most definitely not tortured for information about his team.
Just the thought of that made him feel sick.
Not only did Zarkon want the universe to crumble, which it would if he got his hands on the Black Lion, but in the interim while they "negotiated" his release he wanted to wring every bit of information that he could from Lance. He had to admit it was a great plan – sadistic and awful and cruel but smart and if he were an evil dictator he'd probably do the same.
Lance couldn't let it happen.
He'd already ruled out that the team could absolutely not give into Zarkon's demands. They couldn't. The universe couldn't afford that. He'd also determined that they could not launch a rescue mission as they were; it was too dangerous, too risky and he would never forgive himself if any of them were captured as well. Never.
He'd resigned himself to dying here - never getting to see his family again, never getting to return to Earth – with the conviction to not tell the Galra anything but... but where if there was one more option?
Escape.
It's not like he really had any grand ideas on how to go about it, but it was there. It was his only real option if he wanted to get out.
He had to escape himself. Maybe there'd even be a sympathetic Galran like Ulaz. He'd told them there were more, right? And Lance was certain it had to be common knowledge at this point there was a Paladin of Voltron aboard the ship.
But in case there wasn't...
He needed to engineer his own escape. It was time to start acting more like Shiro – brave and strong and smart – and less like himself.
And that started with finding a way out of this cell.
With a groan Lance unfolded from his sit and pulled himself to his feet, his head swimming at the change in vertigo and he had to lean against the wall to steady himself. He really hoped they did come with water soon; his throat was parched and his head was aching and he was pretty sure you were supposed to stay hydrated when you were losing blood. And he most definitely had lost and was losing blood.
Just the thought of water made everything seem to flare up at once and he groaned, pushing it away in the "pain to ignore" file folder that was quickly becoming a drawer. He doubted Pidge had an inkling of what a file drawer was and if she did she'd think it was the most ridiculous thing ever. And focus, he scolded himself. He needed to concentrate on examining his cell for an escape, not sit here thinking about office supplies.
Keeping one hand on the wall, he slowly made his way about the cell, seeking any hairline cracks, any loose piece of something he could tug free and fashion into a weapon. And of course where the cameras were located so he could disable them because it would be hard to stage an escape if they could see what he was doing.
The wall that he'd decided was south yielded nothing of interest even as he passed by it multiple times, each time looking at a different portion. Kicking it was a dumb move too, as now his toes really hurt, but it did take away some of the attention from his other more serious injuries for a bit.
The east wall did have a slightly different colored panel on the bottom and Lance had eagerly crouched next to it. Pressing against it resulted in him being beaned in the forehead as it retracted from the wall and revealed a… He frowned at what apparently the universe considered a toilet. But at least it took care of one problem (which didn't seem like it was going to be a continued one if they didn't bring him water) even if the Galra had no sense of privacy.
He told them as such as he completed his business, sending the toilet back into the wall when he was finished. Unfortunately no other wall panels opened up to reveal an armory or something useful on any part of the room.
He'd tried prying at the door, but he was too short to reach the ceiling where the metal retracted and the seals were airtight on the edges. He couldn't even try to climb up the doorframe as it was nowhere near indented enough to allow him a good grip and he doubted honestly he'd have been able to do so given how much it hurt to just move his arms up let alone support any weight.
However, his pitiful attempts at jumping did reveal the location of the camera. It was a tiny thing, which at first glance looked like a screw in the ceiling, but the faint sheen of glass gave it away. It also meant he was not getting anywhere close to it which meant he was not disabling it.
Quiznack.
The only thing left was the light fixture, which was mounted at just about his shoulder height. It was about three feet tall and maybe six inches wide in a cylinder shape. He'd quickly found that it was also quite hot and he hurriedly removed his hand from it, blowing on the light burn that took over his palm. The warmth had been welcome though compared to the rest of his cell and he eagerly held up both hands to it like he would one of the bonfires Papá would make in the summer.
But no gentle heat flickered over them. Figured. He was cold, but not cold enough to keep burning himself. Hopefully he'd get a blanket or some type of prison uniform soon.
Although he was starting to fear that he wasn't getting anything of the sort.
He wasn't as chilled now thanks to the walk, but everything was hurting more and he was most definitely bleeding now from his main wound and the punctures dotting his shoulder from that one commander's claws. The guy could really do with a nice manicure. Did Galrans get manicures? They'd probably need like industrial strength nail files and he was having a hard time imagining them with painted claws. He snorted lightly at the image.
Lance retreated to his corner between the south and west walls now that his circuit was completed with nothing really of value gleaned. He'd have preferred to stay near the light, for as small as the cell was this section was more shadowed, but there was no way he was going to sit that close to the door.
He wondered how long it had been since he'd been captured. His stomach was growling at him so it was at least past lunch. He hadn't had the time to grab breakfast or it wouldn't be so bad. Then again, he had sort of puked out what contents were in it so...
The memory sent it rolling again and he choked down the acid tickling his throat.
He...
He might have to kill again.
His hands shook where he had them gathered in his lap.
He didn't want to do it again.
It didn't matter that it was a Galran, the enemy, and they would just as surely kill him if given the opportunity (and permission, as according to Haggar he was to be kept alive for now) he didn't like it.
He understood they had all likely killed before; it was inevitable that some had perished when they blew up ships and bases. But that hadn't been...
Hadn't been like this. So... so sudden. So violent.
He had to stop thinking about it, he decided, as his stomach clenched again.
He need a distraction. Anything.
He turned his attention to what he now knew was the camera. "Hel-lo," he drawled. "Me again. Think you could bring that water and food I asked for? You guys want me alive, right? It'll be your funeral if I die."
And Lance had no doubt that was not an idle threat. If the Galra had put this much effort into capturing him then it would not go over well to kill him via dehydration. He knew he wasn't anywhere close to such a condition being fatal, but, well, he definitely wasn't comfortable and while water was not the sole answer he knew it would help.
He swallowed again. He was so thirsty.
He allowed them nearly ten dobashes before he spoke again, adding in his own version of a threat. May as well put his ability to nearly annoy others to death to good use. "This is your last warning. Bring me my requested items or I will start singing the most annoying Earth song known to man. Believe me, you do not want this stuck in your head. It will cause an infectious earworm that will devour your brain."
He smirked to himself. He doubted Galran culture was knowledgeable about earworms and perhaps such a thing would finally spur them into action.
Another approximate ten dobashes passed to the point where he was actively shivering and debating going back to the light for warmth (and burns). His palm still slightly stung from its first encounter and he ultimately decided against it as the thought of moving made him dizzy even while he was sitting. That, and he'd sort of gotten the metal on his back warm-ish from his body heat and he had no desire to have to repeat the process.
"Oh-k-kay," he stuttered. "You guys asked for it. Prepare to hear the most obnoxiously beautiful version of ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall that you will ever encounter in your soon-to-be short lifetime."
Clearing his throat he began in the pitchiest voice he could manage, "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"
He swallowed against his dry throat and continued. He could do this all day. All day. "Nenety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-eight bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall!"
He sang and sang, switching from a country twang to rap to Broadway musical and everything in between that he could think of, trying to imitate his teammates, Iverson, and even a version dedicated to the mice in a series of squeaks. His voice started to go around fifty-four bottles and he was all but rasping by forty.
It'd been at least two hours now by his count that he'd been thrown back in here. His shivering was getting even worse and he was curled up in a ball on the floor now as even sitting against the wall was starting to make him dizzy. The blood that had been leaking from his wounds had been grossy warm, but now he didn't even feel it.
Speaking was becoming painful and so he stopped, licking his dry lips and wishing for just a sip of water. He'd even take nunvil at this point.
Maybe he'd close his eyes for a little bit. Sleep didn't sound so bad right and he had nothing else to do. Maybe he'd dream up an awesome escape plan while he was at it. He then when he woke up perhaps they'd have brought food and water.
He tucked his head further into his chest and prayed for sleep to come quickly.
xxx
Lance awoke sometime later to a horrible cramping sensation all through his torso. The pounding in his head seemed to have increased tenfold and his tongue felt like it had grown three sizes.
Letting out a low moan he curled back into a ball, trying to ease the pulsing pain. He was still so cold and while fingers tingled uncomfortably, pressed up against his stomach, he could barely feel his toes. He whimpered and pulled his feet towards him, awkwardly stretching one arm down to grip at the cold limb and try to rub it back into feeling.
That hurt too.
He kept at it.
How long had he been out? It must have been a few hours at least. He pried open his eyes, looking tiredly for the food and water they had to have brought him while he was unconscious.
But there was nothing in sight.
Nothing save for the little breath of air he made and his eyes widened.
It was definitely colder.
He uncurled just a little bit, straining his eyes to see if there was something he'd missed, but nothing. No food. No water. No blanket.
Just a barren, freezing cell.
He couldn't help the whine that emerged from his lips and ducked his head back down to hide his face. The Galra must think he was pathetic, he thought. A few hours without food and water in a cold room and he was already crying.
He was pathetic.
None of the other Paladins would be complaining. Okay, fine, he amended that. Hunk most definitely would and Pidge for sure, but Pidge would be swearing up a storm and probably legit frightening the guard into giving her the requested items while Hunk would be giving the camera silent judgement and making the Galra feel bad for not doing as he'd asked.
Lance couldn't do that though.
Everything just... hurt. And he was so cold. He shivered again and nuzzled his cold nose against his inner arm where he'd pressed it.
The only thing he had left to do at this point was ask (beg) for some assistance, but he couldn't lower himself that much. Not when he didn't even know if it would work. And even then his small bit of pride wouldn't let him sink that low. Not yet at least.
Still, he could try neutrally asking once more. That wouldn't be so bad.
Except, he found out, it hurt to even attempt talking. His tongue was refusing to cooperate and licking chapped lips only made them hurt more. An unintelligible grunt was the only sound he seemed capable of making and he faintly scowled at himself. Hadn't he been saying that talking was one of his true talents? How could he fail at even that?
So he skipped trying to ask for water to a word he loved so dearly that it never failed to turn his lips up upon uttering it. "Bl-" he started, swallowing painfully and retrying. "Bl-Blue."
Of course she didn't respond, but saying it made him feel a little better. Like he wasn't so alone. He tried it out a few more times, becoming more articulate with each pass even though his throat protested. He told it to be quiet and that it didn't hurt a bit.
After chanting Blue's name a few times quietly into his chest, he finally felt ready to face the camera and at least not croak at it. He carefully turned his head in that direction, fighting back the wince as even the small movement seemed to make all of of his body ache, and addressed whichever lucky Galran got camera duty.
"Water would," he paused, swallowing, "would be really nice. It'd go a long way towards building some good will, you know? I'll just wait here for it. Knock before you come in."
There. A touch of snark, a bit of sincerity and hopefully nothing that screamed out how pathetic and pitiful and in pain he really was.
Please let it work.
He knew they wouldn't really let him die, but he had no doubt they could make him uncomfortable... well, more than he already was. What was it, three days without water was fatal? Probably less in his case due to the blood loss.
So they had to come... eventually. It had probably only been a few hours since he'd been captured.
Please let them come soon.
He tried to count ticks to keep his mind from wandering – as it settled on everything from torture to water to the team to water to pain to Haggar to water again and repeat and repeat and repeat – but after nearly twenty dobashes worth of ticks no one had showed and Lance stopped the count.
Maybe, he thought, they wanted him to be asleep when they dropped off supplies. Because he was so frightening and all. It was a ridicuoulous thought but it pulled a weak chuckle from him and he chose to believe it.
Closing his eyes Lance prayed when he opened them there would be water to greet him.
xxx
Still nothing? His stomach was growling like a black hole now, but it had nothing on the paralyzing pain that was emitting from chest and the sick dizziness whenever he tried to shift his head. It was like all of Lions had decided to toss him around like a hacky sack while using blasters to boot.
Whatever phase one was Lance decided he loathed it, even as he asked himself what on earth phase one was.
Holy quiznak, he was starting to lose his mind.
Did he have to actually beg to get supplies? Is that what they wanted from him? To grovel?
No. He wouldn't do it. He was a Paladin of Voltron. He had some measure of pride. He wasn't that weak. It was just water. He didn't need it. Or food. Or blankets. Or medical attention.
None of it.
He wished he believed himself.
He squeezed his eyes shut. They'd have to give him something soon or he really could die. He just had to hold out until they realized their situation.
Sleep, he told himself. Just sleep.
Sleep would become his escape.
xxx
Where was he? Why was it so hot? Why did everything hurt so much?
Lance cracked open an eye, confusion settling in as he observed metal walls and a purple light. Was he in a cell? Had he been captured?
Ah, that's right. He was a Galran prisoner right now. Everything was trickling back and he moaned softly, hand pressing against the stab wound as it pulsed. How did he ever forget that?
At least being too hot was a nice change from freezing.
But no, it wasn't the room that had changed, he realize as he pulled his face free of his arm to take in a gulp of air and saw his breath mist in front of him.
Tha tmeant...
That meant it was he who was warm.
He had a fever.
Great. Exactly what he needed. The cherry on top of this scenario.
Mmm, he could really go for a sundae now. Dripping with hot fudge and caramel sauce and lots of sprinkles. Maybe Hunk could whip something up that resembled ice cream. He hadn't eaten it since the Garrison.
Focus, focus, he scolded himself. Stop thinking about food. It just made it worse.
He wondered how much worse it was going to get.
Probably a lot.
Lance whimpered quietly.
His eyes closed on their own accord again and forced himself to try and sleep again.
xxx
He drifted in and out of consciousness with no sense of time.
He'd awaken to either stabbing pains from cramping muscles, his wounds or the pounding of his head. His sandpaper throat had moved from beyond an annoyance to nearly as painful as the rest of him and each dry swallow was agony.
He kept forgetting where he was but he always remembered once the wash of purple light seared into his vision.
He called for water a few times when he awoke, other times whispering for Blue and in his lowest moments praying for his parents and Shiro and Hunk.
Just a few minutes more, he promised himself every time Someone would come in just a few minutes.
No one ever came.
xxx
Water water water water water water water.
His entire body screamed for it with such an intensity that he'd cry if he had any tears to shed.
Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Every muscle and bone ached and stabbed and his flesh felt like it was burning even though he couldn't stop shivering.
He wanted it to stop.
"W-water," he rasped, voice barely audible even to him, a moan more than a word. "Pl-please."
And in another part of the ship Haggar grinned down at the screen showing the human boy, his plea tasting like the sweetest of victories.
He had lasted nearly two days, a feat she had honestly not expected from one as weak as a human and nothing like her Shiro. But it only added to the despair and fear she knew the Paladins had to be feeling.
It would serve their purposes well.
She turned to one of the soldiers assigned to monitor the cameras. "Find Commander Theodek and have him retrieve the boy," she ordered, eyes sparkling with delight. "It is time to begin phase two."
Author's Notes:
So, fun fact. Originally Theodek's name was "Foredek" and he was only going to appear like twice. But he'll be around a bit more as I need another antagonist during our time together. However, when I told my sister the name her reaction was to snort and laugh and told me it sounded ridiculous. So it has been changed, but upon proofing this chapter for posting I missed one. Hehe!
You guys are just awesome. I have no other words besides awesome and all of its adjectives. Thank you so much for the comments and encouragement and the views. You are all the best! The ones who are super-special-awesome are my amazing reviewers, who are: Guest, Remi Rukh (I am so glad you didn't get caught by your teacher! I laughed when I saw that!), wingedflower, KarleighH, Alexa, Eeveecat1248, LishaChan, rodeocat, Swirly Rainbow, cats and violin, W.I.T.C.H.-and-Naruto-Gurl, The-Angst-Chronicles, Guest, Clocken, Stargirl720, WeRiseAbove, StrawberryFever3, FanaticFangirl2602, PaintedWings45, QuintessentiallyEccentric, and Guest.
I won't ramble too much, but hope everyone has a great weekend and, if you celebrate, a lovely Easter. As always, please do leave a comment below with your thoughts on the chapter! Every single one is appreciated and as I've said, I have even made changes to my initial plotline based on comments, so you do (sort of) control this fic! Thank you for reading and please do click that review button on the way out!