x
As Color Fades Away
Chapter Nineteen
He was in the water. Again.
But unlike last time it was of no comfort. It was only the cause of fear and Lance choked on it, the tang of salt and blood filling his mouth, causing him to inhale even more.
The ocean.
He was in the ocean.
How?
Mindscape, he realized faintly. He was in his mindscape.
But that meant that he hadn't…
He hadn't...
The acid taste of bile added itself to the mix and he swallowed it all down, despair and relief warring in equal measure.
He hadn't died after all.
He'd failed in his attempt.
Which meant...
He had failed to protect his family.
His vision was beginning to grow blurry and he realized he needed to free himself from the water before he drowned.
Again.
Drown drown drown drown.
The thought was paralyzing and he couldn't move.
He couldn't move.
Instead he inhaled another breath of tainted water and the feeling as it slid down his throat spurred him into movement, if only a few wild strokes.
But there was a faint light shimmering above and he forced himself towards it, each pass sending ripples of sheer agony through him as his abused body struggled.
He breached the ocean's surface, immediately being pummeled with waves and the sharp sting of rain.
But there was air. There was air and he wasn't drowning. He took a deep breath, the action stabbing his chest. Yet it wasn't fresh, clean air he was breathing scented with the smell of rain.
After a few seconds he registered that it wasn't rain falling down upon him at all as he struggled to stay above the rough surface. It was too heavy and slick, almost warm.
It was blood.
His intake of breath was lost as the ocean pulled back on him, trying to stake its own claim. And before all of this he would have happily dove back into its embrace. But now the thought of being in the water, any water, only gave him the desperate desire to get away.
He was going to drown.
Blood was pelting his exposed skin, blinding him from seeing where the shore was. The ocean yanked furiously in its game of tug-of-war. And Lance could make no sound except for terrified gasping as he fought all of it.
He had to go back under the water where it was calmer, rational thought told him. This wasn't Theodek's water chamber prison; it was the ocean. The rules applied once more.
Terror froze him though where he was, and he inhaled another oncoming wave. He couldn't go under. He couldn't. Not again. Not ever again.
He would drown. He didn't want to drown.
Dios please, he didn't want to drown again.
The ocean made its decision for him though and with a crash dragged him back under, his body spinning in a dizzying loop at the impact and every part of him crying out. More water scalded down his abused throat and he gagged it out, trying to hold onto some of the air he'd taken in.
Like oceans were supposed to be, the environment was rather still down below and through sheer force of will he made himself tamp back the panic for just a few ticks and look around so he could get out of there. He could see a rising bar of sand about thirty yards away and struck off in that direction, moving much more slowly than he'd like to but unable to go any faster.
Damaged hands struck sand a dobash later, sending new lancing shots up his arms, but he could not care, scrabbling at it and tugging himself along.
Almost there. Almost out.
It began to rise and a few seconds later he emerged from the ocean, feet sinking into the sand and the waves striking at mid-chest. The ocean was propelling him forward, almost as if it wanted to help him to land, and he gratefully accepted its pushes now that his head was above and free. Anything to get him to the safety of land faster.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to it, voice a rasp. "'s not your fault." It was all his. He was the one who was scared of a little water now. He could almost feel the ocean's sadness as it guided him towards the beach instead of back into its own waves.
Copper rain bombarded him from all sides now, the wind howling like a demon and causing every open wound to sting even more than the ocean's salt had.
Lance wondered if it was possible to just tear off into pieces, flayed open by the strength of the gusts.
He was nearly out now, waves just lapping at his ankles. He collapsed, his body longer able to support his weight on such mangled feet. He let himself lie there for a few moments, ocean still washing up to his calves, to catch his breath.
It was hard to do so when every breath was a sob.
He'd failed. He'd failed everyone. There was no way he could even possibly try to hold Haggar back now. She would win. She'd break into his mind and uncover what he knew.
She would hurt them.
His shoulders shook, sending more spasms through him. Tears mixed with blood and made a macabre painting on his face and still he could not stop crying.
He couldn't go back.
He knew he didn't have a choice.
And when he left his mindscape...
The Galra would win.
Red was starting to fill his vision and Lance knew he had to get up before he choked and drowned on bloody rain.
He couldn't just lie here forever.
Could he?
Could he die in his mindscape?
He debated it for half of a second before hot shame washed over him.
He was contemplating killing himself again?
Dios.
What would his parents think if they knew? They would be so disappointed in him.
But he did it to protect them. To save them and everyone else from the Galrans. If the Paladins of Voltron fell then the universe fell. He couldn't let himself continue to live if he could protect those secrets with his own life.
It all sounded like a hollow excuse now.
He should have been able to find a different way.
He was a failure.
He shivered, burrowing his face against his shoulder as more hot tears leaked out. He was an absolutely pathetic human being, let alone Paladin. Would they even want him back now, after what he'd tried?
No.
And he didn't deserve it either.
"'m sorry," he mumbled into his arm, more tears escaping, not even sure what he was apologizing for.
Sorry for living.
Sorry for trying to die.
Sorry for not.
Sorry for failing at everything he tried.
Sorry for the failure he knew was coming.
He sniffled, rubbing his nose against his bare shoulder as he tried to catch some semblance of a breath amidst his tears and the still falling bloody rain.
What would Shiro do? The thought had him letting out a half-snort, half-sob. Those words had gotten him this far, hadn't they? He had nothing better to fall back on
So... what would he do? Well, Shiro would have never fallen this far to start, he thought miserably. He'd But if Shiro had ended up in this situation, what would he do? He'd get himself out of the rain for starters. Lance remembered the rock structure he'd found the first time in his mindscape and wondered if it, or another like it, was still there.
He had no strength left to stand though. His arms wavered as he pushed himself up to his knees and he knew that was as far as they were taking him.
Crawling it was.
It ended up being more of a desperate heaving drag as he pulled himself along the wet ground, as he could not put any real weight on his mangled hands let alone the broken wrist. Each scrap, each pull sent a whine and gasp past his lips. But he persevered, if only because it was what Shiro would do.
He dreaded to think of what Shiro would make of his attempted suicide. His hero, his leader… Shiro had endured for a year under the Galra and had survived.
Lance...
Lance knew he hadn't even made it a week.
He was so weak.
He chanced a look at his wrists and blanched at the sight of the ugly wounds he'd inflicted on himself, flesh torn up and exposing the tendons and muscles and veins beneath. They were still bleeding, not enough to kill him as all of his wounds seemed to do here, but they somehow hurt the most despite the fact they were not the worst ones he had. He'd given himself these ones though. Somehow the mindscape seemed to know that. He hurriedly averted his eyes as acid bile welled up in his throat again.
Outside the curtain of red rain he could make out the barest hint of a structure.
It brought him no joy or pride.
He wearily finished dragging himself to it, managing to tuck all of his limbs up underneath the overhang and out of the rain, the bloody torrent crashing down on the rock in a cadence that was not soothing in the slightest.
He brought a shaking hand to his face to try and wipe away the blood.
It smeared instead and more dripped from his bangs down into his eyes, turning his vision scarlet.
He whimpered at that, blinking as best he could to clear them. He blearily noticed there was a tide pool just a few feet away under the cover of the structure. He inched his way over, body dragging on the rocky ground.
It was shallow, but there was some water in it. He carefully dipped his left hand into it, hissing as the salt smarted against his open wounds. He cupped a handful as best he could and brought it to his face.
But even that was too much.
He jerked back from the wetness, water spilling into the sand.
He was going to drown.
Drown drown drown drown.
He sucked in a harsh breath and then another, the sound echoing in the enclosure, and squeezed his eyes shut as if that could block out the memory of panicked strokes and burning lungs.
Try again, he told himself. Less water this time.
He brought his trembling hand back and dipped just two fingers in, bringing them to his face and wiping away at his cheek. No blind panic descended upon him that time and he slowly did it again.
Each swipe took a little more blood away until he'd gotten as far as he could tell most of his face clean.
He reached up, pinching his bangs between his fingers.
The blood made little plopping noises as it hit the rocky ground.
He heaved, vomiting out a mixture of inhaled ocean water and stomach bile. He gingerly brushed some of the damp sand under the alcove over the mess.
Both hands were next and he maneuvered his broken one into the pool, wincing at the sting but more relieve to see the blood being washed away. He tried picturing his hands as whole once more, but there wasn't even a responding tingle.
"Come on," he whispered, "please. Please work. Por favor."
Nothing.
Lance didn't want to think of what that meant.
He still heard Haggar's voice. Look around, tell me you do not see the ruin of your own mind beginning.
She was right. The blood rain, the churning ocean...
He'd known he was starting to break.
His mindscape confirmed it.
The water in the pool was starting to turn red and there wasn't much more he could take out.
He was still covered in blood.
It needed to come off.
He scooped up a handful of damp sand, biting back a moan as the granules made their way into his palm, and scrubbed.
His chest, his legs, his arms, everywhere.
He scrubbed until he realized the blood was now his own.
He dry-heaved, nothing left to expel.
He still didn't get it all off, ugly, sticky streaks left behind.
He closed his eyes so he didn't have to see it.
The stone was rough behind his head but he leaned back against it anyway, trying to pretend that the pitter-patter was the sound of actual rain coming down. He'd found that soothing once upon a time. It helped to drown out the ocean's roars too.
He still shivered.
Now what? Where did he go from here? His wrists pulsed angrily where he'd placed them against his stomach, reminding him of what he'd already tried and failed.
He had nothing left to give.
The only thing he could cling to was the vain, weak hope that he could hold out and continue to protect his family. Their faces flashed through his mind and this time he let them, soaking up every smile and crinkled eye as a balm to his soul.
He missed them.
He lingered on Hunk, conjuring up the smell of cooking, motor oil and the distinct honeysuckle scent that followed his best friend around. He could almost feel Hunk's steady warmth, his strength, and he grasped for it.
Reality crashed back as his wrists pulsed and the scene washed away, leaving him alone and shuddering against the rock wall.
All alone.
They weren't coming. No matter what message he'd sent, no matter what Haggar believed they were not going to rescue him. They couldn't. He'd told himself that over and over. He had to remain here to protect them. Protect the universe. But the words, once as reassuring as he could get in this place, just filled him with an unfillable ache.
He wondered how much longer he could do so.
He just wanted them to be safe.
"Thinking about your friends again, hmm?"
Lance jerked forward at the sound of Haggar's voice to find the Druid sitting across from him, calculating yellow eyes observing him from the short distance. She did not even activate her magic to freeze him.
Lance's stomach clenched with what that meant.
He was no threat to her anymore. Even in his own mindscape he was powerless against her. The ocean would not respond and in any case he was too scared to approach it again to try.
Pathetic.
But he had to at least try to be strong.
Haggar hadn't won.
Yet.
He straightened as much as he could, body throbbing with even that much.
"They have no doubt been thinking about you," she continued. "Shall I let you in on a secret, my sweet Lance?"
He didn't answer, keeping his lips sealed.
"The Paladins were going to trade the Black Lion for you," she said, smirking as Lance stiffened ever so slightly in surprise, disbelief and hope and horror warring for dominance. "They have been en route to the coordinates you so kindly provided them several quintants ago."
So it had been days.
Just days.
A few days and he had already fallen to this.
But...
They were coming? To trade?
They couldn't.
He wasn't worth it.
"You see," Haggar smiled. "I told you they would wish to come when they saw what I have done to you."
She reached out a hand towards his face and Lance flinched away from it.
Haggar chuckled.
"However, the Paladins were trying to trick us, to cheat us out of our trade. Well," her smile grew, "we put a stop to that little rescue operation. But they must have truly cared for you, my Lance, as they still insisted on meeting and conducting the trade."
Lance frowned, something curling in stomach.
Why was she describing them in past tense?
"What..." his voice rasped and he swallowed thickly, eyes narrowing as he felt a fire start to burn inside. "What did you do to them?"
"Do to them?" she repeated. "Why, nothing at all." His stomach unclenched the barest bit. "The question to ask instead is what did you do, my Lance?"
What did... he do?
"I informed them of the little stunt you pulled," she smirked, inclining her head towards his wrists.
She...
What?
Dios no.
"You can imagine their reactions. They were so... disappointed," the word practically dripped with disdain.
Lance felt his heart stutter.
No.
"What were the princess' words again? Oh, yes." Haggar gave a light cough and her next words were in Allura's accented tones. "Anyone who would fall so far to take their own life is no Paladin of Voltron."
"N-no," Lance shook his head. "No, that's..."
Exactly what he'd feared.
They were ashamed of him. They were disgusted.
But...
But he'd done it for them. To protect them. They had to see that, right?
No.
No they didn't.
And even worse...
They had been coming. Despite everything he'd thought, despite the fate of the universe, they had been willing to trade the Black Lion for him.
And now they weren't.
Because of what he had done.
They were going to leave him here, knowing what kind of pain he was enduring, what kind of tortures.
That... that couldn't be right.
It just couldn't.
"No," Lance shook his head again. "You're lying."
She had to be lying.
Haggar laughed at the accusation. "Oh, my sweet Lance. You are only lying to yourself."
"No," he protested weakly. "They wouldn't…"
Leave him here because of that.
He understood having to leave him behind because the universe needed Voltron, needed the Black Lion.
But...
But now?
"They would," she insisted. "They have no need for a weak, pathetic child like yourself. They are better off without you and they know it."
"I did it for them," he whispered. "To s-save them." A sob caught in his throat, barely audible over the sudden harsh pounding of the waves against his shelter and the howling of the wind.
"You did it to save yourself," Haggar countered.
"N-no…"
"Don't deny it. You thought only to escape. But you forgot, my Lance, that I told you such a thing was impossible. There is no escaping me."
"H-Hunk," he let out a low sob. There was no way his friend, his best friend, his brother, would leave him like that. Hunk would never leave him, leave anyone, to suffer like that. Not if he could help it.
"The Yellow Paladin?" Haggar smirked. "Oh, he may have tried. But he would have gone up alone against the Altean princess and of course my champion."
"Sh-Shiro—"
"You think he takes pity to your plight? He did, originally. But even in his darkest days he never once even entertained the idea of killing himself. He was disgusted."
Shiro thought...
Shiro thought that?
Lance whimpered.
He'd just wanted to protect them.
"You think your reasons matter?" Haggar chuckled. "They are but words, thoughts. What matters is the action. And yours have eliminated your last chance at freedom."
A sob worked its way free and he wrapped his arms about himself, though the embrace did nothing to comfort him.
He hadn't meant for this. He had just wanted to protect them. And they were going to leave him? Now? His shoulders shook and a salty tear trickled down his face.
"There, there," Haggar crooned, suddenly next to him with an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into her embrace.
He shuddered.
He didn't have the strength left to pull away.
Weak.
Pathetic.
He settled for closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her.
"It's all right," Haggar murmured, a hand coming up to brush against his cheek well the other held him fast in her embrace. "All is as it should be."
Another tear slipped down his cheek.
"They may not want you," she said softly. "But I do. I'll take care of you, my sweet Lance. Everything is all right now."
He stiffened.
No.
No this wasn't all right.
This was wrong.
Haggar was wrong.
Her words were poison, lies. He couldn't listen to them.
She had to be lying.
There was no way, none, that everything she had said was truth. To agree to a trade and then to not? To agree to a trade of such a magnitude at all?
It was a trick.
It had to be a trick.
They still weren't coming but it wasn't because of... because of that.
He squirmed in her grasp, trying to break free, but her arm tightened painfully around his chest.
"No," he gasped, shaking his head. "No. It's not."
Haggar let out a sigh. "I can see that you don't quite believe me yet," Haggar murmured. "A pity. You are only setting yourself up for more failure and heartache. I can save you from that."
"You're lying," he insisted.
Something wasn't right.
Haggar should be livid if the the Paladins weren't coming. That had been the whole point; to trade him for the Black Lion. Why would she do something like this that ruined that opportunity? He was nothing compared to the Black Lion.
She knew that.
He knew that.
The universe knew that.
So why?
"Oh, my Lance," Haggar bent her head down and nuzzled his hair.
Lance froze.
What?
He tried to pull away again but Haggar held fast, breath warming his ear. "You are so much brighter than they give you credit for."
So there was something else.
She was lying.
He just had no idea what part was true.
"...what do you want from me?" he asked quietly.
Cool lips descended on his cheek in a kiss and Lance jerked forward, eyes widening.
"I want you," she whispered, words ghosting over his cheek.
He stiffened and she delighted in it, delighted in the feeling of his warm flesh growing cold beneath her touch.
"I want you," she repeated, pressing another kiss to his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears.
Delicious.
"Wh-what do you...?" he trailed off, breath audibly catching as Haggar pressed another gentle kiss against his jaw, drinking in more tears.
She could taste his confusion and fear and it was delicious too.
The ice he had surrounded himself with gave another crackle deep in the recesses of his mind.
"Your quintessence shines so brightly," she murmured, feeling it thrumming off the boy even as it too recoiled against her touch. "It is strong. And I desire it."
He didn't even know what he had, she realized, as another wave of fear-tinged confusion brushed against her. He had no idea of his own power.
She loved him even more for it.
The thought paused her.
Love.
Yes, she decided, looking down at the slender human she had in her grasp. She loved her Lance.
He was hers.
And now...
Now it was time to truly break him so he would be all hers, body and mind.
And of course his beautiful, beautiful quintessence.
She slipped a hand through his hair, the locks matted with blood, and she carded her fingers through them, lovingly easing out the tangles, as she contemplated her next words carefully. She had thought the idea of his team abandoning him would do the trick, but as his quintessence showed his desire to protect, to believe, was stronger than most.
Hope was a powerful weapon.
Hopelessness was even more.
She hummed. Yes.
"I admit," she said gently, keeping her voice pitched low, "I was indeed lying earlier."
Her Lance stiffened.
She chuckled. So innocent.
"The Paladins of Voltron do not know of your little... attempt," she said, bringing one hand down to squeeze on the bloodied, ripped open flesh of his left wrist. He let out a moan.
It was music to her ears.
It was much better than the absolute loss she had felt as his quintessence had blinked out of existence. What had passed then was one of the longest minutes of her life as the commander dragged the boy's body from the water and she had gripped his wrists so tightly in her hands she had left nail marks in his tender flesh as she knit it back together.
She had almost been too late. Another half dobash even and his spirit would have been beyond even her reach. It was truly fortunate he had found his mindscape earlier on. It kept him tethered to his physical body in a way those who had not ever stepped foot into their mindscape could do.
It had been too close though. She clutched him about the shoulder just a little tighter.
"I have no doubt though," she continued, squeezing his wrist again, "they are so, so disappointed. Why... if they were ever to find out what you did you would certainly be stripped of your title. Someone as weak minded as yourself has no business being a Paladin."
She inflected her words with her quintessence and smiled as she felt him flinch, felt the darkness sink into him.
The ice shield formed another long crack.
"They are coming," Haggar continued. "However…" she paused for effect, feeling the heartbeat under her hand increase in tempo. "While we will get the Black Lion as promised, the Paladins... well, they will get a body."
He practically stopped breathing. "Wh-what?"
"Oh, you won't be dead, my sweet Lance," she assured. "You will be quite alive, right here with me." She nuzzled her nose against the dark strands and the boy did not even try to pull away. "But they must be punished for thinking of deceiving the Galra Empire. That and I have become so fond of you I can't bear to give you up."
She pressed another kiss to his cheek. "You will stay here, with me, while the Paladins make off with a fake that will die within a half-varga. They will never know that you are still here, with me. As I told you," she nuzzled his head. "You are mine. And there is no escaping me."
"N-no," he whimpered. "You can't…"
"I can do anything I want, my Lance," she said. Her finger traced down his cheek. "Take anything I want." He shuddered and she basked in it. "And I choose you, my sweet Lance. The Black Lion is Emperor Zarkon's prize. And you are mine."
Lance shuddered.
This...
This couldn't be happening.
It was worse than anything he could have ever imagined.
The universe was about to lose their last chance of peace...
And it was all his fault.
No.
No.
This couldn't...
A sob ripped out of his throat and it grew as Haggar murmured, pressing a kiss now against the top of his head in some distorted comfort.
He didn't even try to pull away.
This couldn't be how it ended.
He couldn't do anything to save them. Nothing he did mattered.
He'd lost.
Somewhere in him he felt a crack, a shattering.
He wasn't just breaking now.
He was broken.
He'd failed.
He'd failed them all.
The Galrans were going to win. They were going to win and everyone he loved was going to die. Because of him. Because he was weak. Because no matter how hard he tried he failed.
And...
He had nothing left to give.
He'd tried to give it all and even that had not been enough.
He was not enough.
How had he ever believed he could protect them?
Exhausted eyes opened and looked out at his mindscape.
It was falling to ruin.
Waves lashed furiously against the rock, while crimson rain poured unendingly from the shrieking sky and the rock structure about them gave a dangerous rumble, pieces cracking off to drop into the frothing ocean.
As he watched the scene blurred with tears and the scarlet color of the rain started to bleed away, the dark indigo of the ocean disappeared.
He could feel it, a darkness creeping up around him, coloring his heart and his mind. It was the color of failure, of hopelessness.
He couldn't stop it.
Not anymore.
The blue of his eyes dulled just as the mindscape around him, color fading away to be replaced with a cold world of gray.
He closed his eyes against the colorless world, no longer able to look at what he had created.
It was over. There was no use in fighting anymore.
He had failed.
He'd failed everyone.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, a last tear trickling down his cheek.
And Lance let himself fade away into the darkness.
Author's Notes:
The end! Hehe, just kidding. We've still got a long ways to go. Originally I was actually going to pop back over to some of the Paladins this chapter, but decided that it was much too cruel after last chapter's cliffhanger and that given that mindset I didn't think you'd enjoy that scene as much if we're all worried about what happened with Lance. Next chapter though plan to see some of the other Paladins :)
I'm very pleased that so many of you were both in the "I saw it coming but I didn't!" camp involving Lance's decision. It was certainly not an easy one to make and given his circumstances one of the only choices he actually had available left to him and he took it to protect his friends. True courage right there. Unfortunately those actions are chipping away at him and combined with everything else he's endured he's right at the breaking point. Haggar is super excited so at least one person is happy right now :p Just remember though that right now all may not be as it seems. We know how strong Lance is even he doesn't recognize it himself. Chins up, everyone.
The biggest of thanks go out to the amazing reviewers! I love you guys so much. Hugs and kudos to: JinsTales, violinworld, shinXlullaby, SonoSvegliato, guest, vickydd, wingedflower, Eeveecat1248, The-Angst-Chronicles, Death Jump, Arivoctix, Jadegem02, FanaticFangirl2602, dragoscilvio, Alexa, Gemini, Oliviadbell, Guest, cookiebook322, BigMechanicalCatHead, luminoslight1313, Wolf of the Demise, rinpiesweet, LishaChan, KarleighH, Guest, sally3015, StrawberryFever3, SamTheShortyMan, unicornpie, DeanJackson1411, JustADamFrenchFry, Stargirl720, Rookblonkorules, dragonrush, PaintedWings45, dragonrush, and Lasagna. I know we've gained quite a few lurkers too so if y'all want to pop by I'd love to hear from you!
As always, please do drop a comment below. They feed the author's soul. Still not quite sure on the update schedule for this week (12-hour shifts are not kind) but we could see a chapter on Friday, otherwise by Tuesday depending on the response to this chapter and my availability. Feed me encouragement!
See y'all sometime soon!