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As Color Fades Away

Chapter Thirty-One

Allura's bedroom was easily the largest living quarters in the castle. Even so, with five humans, two Alteans and four mice it was beginning to feel a little cramped but no one was willing to leave.

Keith had taken up the entirety of the plush chair, slouched sideways against the armrest and keeping an eye on the scene with half-lidded eyes from his vantage to the bottom right of the bed. Just above him was Hunk, who refused to vacate the chair by Lance's head, and Platt and Plachu were curled up on his lap.

Shiro was sitting on a small ottoman, his back braced against the foot of the bed while Coran sat on a matching chair and held the transfer bag that was slowly filling with blood. A finished one already rested in a small cooler by his feet. The leader of Voltron was looking more than a little pale and had one of the Altean energy bars held loosely in his prosthetic hand that Allura had forced upon him.

He had forced himself to take a few bites of it but now his stomach was swirling and he'd stopped.

Allura herself had commandeered her last actual chair and it was pulled up opposite Hunk and the other two mice were keeping her company. Pidge had opted to sit on the actual bed with Coran's permission, as her small size barely even made a dent in the large mattress.

She had taken up a post by Lance's head, her back against the wall and her small hand gently carding through Lance's bangs as she knew he liked. Coran had said the only injuries to Lance's head included a few minor scratches and cuts on his face and a larger lump on the back of his head so she was in the clear. Besides, the advisor had smiled, the gesture might help assure Lance he was amongst friends.

It had been near a varga since they'd all gathered in the room and Coran had said it was actually very good that Lance was exceeding the time limit from the sedative. It meant that although he was still in pain it was diminishing enough to the point where he could get some rest. The effects of the saliidda were fading too with the addition of the fluids and Coran estimated that as soon as Lance awoke and was aware of what was happening they could try and stitch up the worst of the wounds and begin a blood transfusion, as Lance was in desperate need of it, his face still far too pale beneath his fever.

The advisor couldn't take too much more from Shiro right now either, as he had already given a pint and he was well into a second. Coran had wanted to stop the donation after the first pint, which is what Pidge had informed him was standard practice for humans, but Shiro had insisted, a look of guilt swimming in his eyes and said that it was the least he could do and had murmured, "Lance needs it more than me." Coran couldn't exactly disagree and he could feel that Shiro needed to do this so he allowed it with the rule to not move and to eat and drink.

Despite the fact the entirety of the castle's occupants were present, the room was near silent, broken only by the regular sharp gasps and coughs from Lance.

It felt like a tomb, Pidge thought. It reminded her too much of her own home after her father and brother had been declared dead. So many people had filled the space, offering condolences and support to her and her mother, but despite the numbers there was a stifling blanket of silence over everything.

She hated it.

But she couldn't find a way to break it. Lance was the one who was good at making people comfortable and lightening up the mood. But he couldn't do that now. He was the one causing all of this. "You jerk," she muttered below her breath, absolutely no heat behind it. She'd do anything for him to wake up. He could tease her about her height and ask all the questions he wanted about her tech and she would answer every single one if he would just wake up. If he'd just wake up and be okay.

And to her surprise, as if summoned, she felt him twitch ever so slightly beneath her fingers in a way that was different than the shudders and gasps. Her hand stilled its movement, thumb hovering on his forehead as she waited for another motion.

There! Another twitch.

"Lance?" she breathed, drawing everyone's attention. Her heart quickened as she peered down at him, his eyes fluttering beneath closed lids.

Coran had cautioned them that Lance could wake in a number of ways. It could be slow and peaceful thanks to the sedative and depending on what he recalled prior to falling asleep. It could be sudden and violent if he felt he was still with the Galra. Pidge was personally hoping – despite knowing that it wasn't possible – that Lance would wake up, smile at them and crack a stupid joke that she would laugh so hard at she'd cry.

But it was none of those.

He woke with a scream, not so much as pained but terrified.

Sightless eyes flew open and he wrenched himself violently away from Pidge, but went nowhere thanks to the mountain of pillows and blankets. "No!" he cried. "No! No me toques!"

"Lance!" everyone exclaimed in varying degrees, as he continued to struggle to move, his efforts dislodging bandages and sending streaks of red across the linens.

"Lance, calm down," Pidge begged, reaching out, but retracting her hand as Lance wailed when it bumped against his shoulder.

"Please," Allura begged. "Lance, it is us. You are safe."

Lance continued his attempted retreat, looking for all the world like a cornered animal.

Shiro had lumbered to his feet at this point, valve ripped from his arm and Keith had shot out of his chair while the Alteans were standing around the bed and everyone was speaking at once, individual words barely discernible over Lance's harsh breaths and whimpers as he tucked himself as far away from them as he could manage.

"Lance—"

"It's okay—"

"You're safe."

"Lance, please—"

"No," Lance panted as this time Shiro reached out to try and steady Lance before he did any more damage to himself. "No me toques!" voice rising in pitch as soon as the hand had wrapped about his upper bicep. "No, no no!"

"Stop!" Hunk roared, batting away Shiro's hand with surprising force and freezing everyone else in place at his tone.

Hunk never yelled. Never. Silence reigned in the room, save for Lance's crying and still futile attempts to free himself from the blankets that had gotten wrapped about his feet.

"Quiet, please," Hunk requested softer, meeting each pair of wide eyes before he pulled himself up onto the bed next to Lance, but made no move to get any closer.

"What was he saying?" Pidge asked, voice small. "Did I hurt him?"

"I don't know exactly," Hunk admitted, not having heard most of Lance's words and pleas over the others. "But all of us talking at once is overwhelming him. Let me try, okay?"

Everyone gave nods and quiet murmurs, guilt heavy in the room. They'd just... They just wanted to help.

Apparently they didn't quite know how.

"Lance," Hunk cajoled softly, wincing as at the sound of his name Lance pulled even further away. Wherever Lance was, he didn't think he was here with his friends. He tried again, omitting his friend's name. "Hey, hermano, it's me. Hunk. Soy Hunk. Estoy aquí."

Lance's crying quieted, although he kept himself tucked up against the far pillows. Heartened by the response, Hunk continued. "Estás bien. It's okay. You're safe. Estás en el castillo. ¿Recuerda? ¿Conmigo? ¿Y Coran?

Lance slowly moved his head from the pillow, sightless eyes that were all wrong looking in Hunk's direction. Hunk could hear Allura's sharp breath at the sight, but he tuned them out, his entire world focusing in on his best friend and letting the words of home spill from his lips in the little comfort he could offer.

"Eso es," Hunk encouraged. "¿Ver? Estás seguro. Sólo soy yo. Hunk. Estoy aquí."

And although it barely sounded like Lance, hoarse and choked and so very rough, the whispered "Hunk?" was the most beautiful sound the Yellow Paladin had ever heard.

"Sí," he confirmed, own voice rough now. "Estás bien. Estoy aquí."

But unlike last time Lance did not go limp with relief, did not relax. He kept his body tight and away and Hunk didn't dare reach out to him. Not yet.

"¿Recuredas la saliidda?" Hunk asked gently, wincing as at the word Lance grew rigid. "Coran piensa que el Saliddaa ya no está allí. ¿... te sientes mejor?

It took a few seconds, but Lance gave the barest of nods.

He did feel a little better.

But not better enough.

Hunk started speaking again and Lance tried so so hard to listen, but they were fading, lost to the sound of his own pulse beating in his head and the heavy breaths that hurt his lungs. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get enough air, his lungs feeling like they were collapsing in on themselves. He went for a deep inhale and regretted it immediately as his chest seized at the action.

Distantly he heard Hunk call his name again as he hunched over, gasping. Instinctively his hands went to his throat as though he could push the air through.

He touched cold metal.

What?

The... the collar?

It was still there?

Trembling fingers reached higher, breathing becoming harder and harder as instead of flesh they lighted upon the collar burned into his neck. He bit back the soft keen of fear.

He hadn't been rescued, had he? This was all some trick. Haggar was trying to fool him. He was still there, after all. He'd just felt her; her hands in his hair and then Theodek's bruising grip on his arm when he'd tried to pull away. He knew she was capable of imitating voices; she'd done it in his mindscape.

This was a trick.

"Lance, it's okay—" he heard Hunk – not Hunk – say, but Lance was too frozen with horror to hear anything else.

The collar was there. It was still there. That meant he was still with the Galrans. With Haggar. He'd dreamed up – hallucinated? – Hunk and Coran. And Pidge.

Had they asked him anything? Had he betrayed them?

What had he said?

He wracked his mind, but his thoughts were tripping over themselves and he could hardly hear them over his own gasping and the pain that was making itself more and more known.

Maybe the saliidda was still there after all.

"Lance please," the voice of Hunk begged. "Por favor. Cálmate, está bien."

It wasn't real, he realized. None of it was real. It was a cruel dream, the harshest of nightmares. She was using his friends against him. Using their compassion and love and trying to force him to give them up, to give up their secrets.

And he was so stupid. Believing the first hint of kindness to be real and not some conjuration Haggar had made. He knew his family had already come. Come and gone.

And he'd been left behind.

"No," he rasped, trying to drown out the sound of the fake Hunk pleading with him. "No, no no!" Each exclamation stabbed him with betrayal. He had almost believed, almost given in. It was exactly what Haggar wanted. He couldn't. He couldn't fail them. Not now. Not ever.

"Lance—"

"No es real," he gasped, backing further away from where the fake Hunk was located. "No es…"

"Real?" he heard someone – Pidge? Fake Pidge? – attempt to repeat. "Hunk, what does he mean?"

"This… this isn't real," he managed, dredging the English words up from the thick molasses that had become his mind. Haggar had to know. He had to let her know he was wise to her trick. She had to stop before he forgot again and said something he'd regret. Even now he could feel her lingering in his mind, just waiting to pounce.

"Lance, no," fake Hunk whispered, tears in his voice. "Estás seguro. Por favor, creéme."

"This isn't r-real," he repeated, voice breaking.

"Lance—"

"Get out of my head!" he screamed, hands going to his head as though he could force her out himself. He dug his nails in, felt the sting as the left side pierced flesh and the warm trickle of blood paint his fingers.

She was in his head. She was in his mind and he needed her out.

"Lance!" he heard Allura's horrified gasp.

"Lance, stop!" he heard multiple voices – Keith, Shiro, Hunk – plead while a soft "my boy" made him stiffen and try to gouge his head even harder.

"No," he rasped. "No!"

"Lance, lo siento mucho, I'm so sorry," he heard Hunk's voice, closer now and just in front of him. He had no chance to lash out at whatever it was before something was being wrapped around him – not more restraints, please no, let him go – and he was being pulled towards the fake Hunk. His arms were pinned at his sides and his legs were barely responsive, each attempt to move them only sending flares down the limbs.

He screamed out his distress, trying without success to dislodge a hand, anything, so he could fight back. But the restraint – under the guise of a blanket, he realized – was becoming even more constricting and he felt himself being lifted into what should have been comforting, familiar arms and cradled close.

"St-stop," he pleaded, "por favor. I know. I know. Yo sé."

He heard the fake Shiro calling out to Hunk, panic and worry and desperation all rolled into one and Lance squeezed his eyes tight at the horrible realness of it all. He wanted it so badly to be true. He wanted to live in this dreamworld forever.

But he couldn't. It wasn't an escape. It was a lie. And despite how many times he'd failed now he couldn't fail in this. He couldn't let her hurt them. He still had to fight.

He was moving now, a faint wind brushing his face and the heavy gait jolting every injury to new life. He was barely aware of the muttered apologies that sounded sincere but he knew were just a cheap imitation. He needed to wake up from whatever this was. Even now, with clarity burning strong from fear, he could feel the all too constant cloud descending.

"You're okay, you're safe, " Hunk chanted above him. "Estás seguro, estás bien." The words that had filled him with such peace before only brought the panic back and he thrashed again in the cocoon of restraints. He didn't believe it. Not a word.

He couldn't believe it.

It wasn't real. It wasn't. He had to keep telling himself that. He wouldn't give in. Nothing they said or did could convince him otherwise.

But then...

His eyes widened and without meaning to he ceased his struggles. No… it couldn't be. But this feeling… this was… this was…

My Paladin! roared out the voice of Blue, echoing both inside and outside his head, the almost overwhelming feelings of comfort and despair and love washing over him.

Lance flinched at the address — not my, not hers, he wasn't hers — but soaked up the presence. "Bl-Blue?" he whispered, voice a mere rasp.

It couldn't be her. He was with Haggar, with the Galrans.

But...

Safe with Lion she rumbled, her gentle presence wrapping about him. My Paladin with Lion. He shuddered against his will at the address again and although the warmth of her comfort did not vanish the despair became more prominent. What have they done to my Paladin? Blue whispered in his mind.

She could feel the unease at the declaration of love that normally filled her Paladin with such joy. So she changed tactics, twining her own quintessence about the battered makeup of her Paladin's. Cub she intoned instead, nuzzling his light with her own. Lion here. Cub safe.

"Blue," he breathed, just saying her name releasing something he didn't know he'd been holding.

Was she real? How could she not be real? He could feel her, her deep purrs reverberating inside. Lion here she repeated. Cub safe. Paladins and Lions saved cub.

And he...

He believed her. There was no way for Haggar, for anyone, to copy Blue. He sensed her comfort, her fierce protectiveness, and let it surround him. She was here. She was actually here. Which meant that…

That the arms holding him were Hunk's. His best friend. His brother. He was here. It wasn't a dream. It was real.

"Hunk," he whispered, the blanket binding his arms to him no longer seeming as suffocating, the arms not so constricting. "H-Hunk."

"Right here," came the choked reply. "I've got you, hermano."

Lance felt a sob tear itself from his throat, making it even harder to breathe, but for the first time it was a good pain. He buried his face up against Hunk's chest, breathing in the scent of honeysuckle and engine grease.

He was safe. It wasn't a dream. They had rescued him. The blurry memory of the last time he'd found himself crying in Hunk's arms surfaced and he tamped it down, along with the growing panic that they would find out what he'd done. He felt Blue's worry swirl around him then, but he pushed it away. Not yet. Not now. And Blue respected that, withdrawing although her fear was still palatable underneath the love and concern flowing down their link.

Blue turned her gaze to Yellow's Paladin as her own seemed to settle slightly, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. Tension and real blood. She felt her hackles rise. Black and Yellow's Paladins had sworn they would take care of him. Why was her Paladin still hurt?

She turned her speech outward to Yellow's Paladin, who was being quickly followed by the Black's Paladin and the Altean advisor into the hall. What happened? she demanded, keeping her roar low. Why… why Cub still hurt?

"He can't go into the pods yet," Yellow's Paladin explained, and once more she felt the honesty embedded in his words as well as the same despair and hurt she felt. "They need to charge."

Soon? she demanded. Her Paladin needed healing. He was hurt and in pain and she hated it. But she hated even more that she could not ease his suffering.

"As soon as possible," Black's Paladin spoke now, and Blue did not miss the way that her Paladin both stiffened and relaxed at the sound of his leader, and she felt a trickle of shame course down their bond. She sent back love and reassurance to drown that negativity out and was surprised to feel her Paladin shudder at the thought. She caught the glimpse of dark water before the image was pushed away, fear and horror prominent.

She turned her own attentions inward again. Cub safe she reassured. Cub has nothing to fear. Lion will protect Cub. Lion promises. Lion will not fail Cub again. Even with her reassurances she could feel his turmoil and shudders. She whined low in the back of her throat, wanting to do more. But after one such shudder she could feel the smallest release, of peace. It was not even close to what she wanted her Paladin to feel but it was a bit better.

A bit.

"We need to take him back to bed now," Black's Paladin continued, drawing her gaze and her orbs narrowed at the pale, haggard state this human was in as well. "He needs medical attention before he can go into the pods."

Paladin's leader also needs pod she observed. He had not looked so bad earlier, but she would bet one good tap with her paw and he would keel over. She felt the spike of fear from her Paladin at her words, but Black's Paladin huffed a genuine laugh.

"I am all right, really. Thank you for the concern though, Blue. But I'm all right."

And truth hung in his words behind the exhaustion even she could feel. Behind her she felt Black stir restlessly, but she did not get up from the floor; too weary after the onslaught with her old Paladin, but the fact there was not getting up to check for herself reassured Blue more than any other action.

Then rest she ordered the both of them, getting a mental grunt from Black at the chain of command being turned but her own leader did not argue.

And you, Cub she silently intoned. Cub safe. Lion will not let any harm come to Cub. And although the fear did not vanish she felt it recede at her words. Better gave his quintessence another gentle nuzzle, projecting all the warmth and love she could. Lion see Cub soon. Cub must go with Paladins now.

"Lance?" Yellow's Paladin asked quietly. "You all right to go?" Her Paladin managed a small nod, burrowing his face somehow deeper into Yellow's Paladin's chest. "Thank you, Blue," the human said to her.

Yellow's Paladin wise she said in turn. He had known exactly what her Paladin needed to set his own mind at ease. She had sensed his distress as soon as he was within distance of her. Lion thanks Yellow's Paladin for bringing Cub to Lion.

Yellow's Paladin gave her a genuine smile then. "We'll take good care of him. I promise."

She inclined her head.

The assorted group left then, walking at a rather sedate pace both for Lance and Shiro's sakes, as the latter realized jumping up and running down a hall after giving so much blood had not been the wisest choice, spots dancing in his vision that he tamped down by sheer force of will. Still, when Hunk had taken off with Lance bundled in his arms with no explanation whatsoever he'd had to follow.

He was certain everyone would have come too, save for Coran's unusually sharp bark to remain seated that had rooted both Allura and Pidge to the spot. Despite Keith's stubbornness to not listen to commands, both between his initial promise to Coran and his own injuries he'd remained stationary as well.

There were so many things Shiro wanted to say, wanted to ask, but he felt his tongue tied and everyone seemed to be the same as they made a silent procession back to Allura's room. That was, until surprisingly Lance broke the silence, tilting his head out from where he'd hidden it against Hunk.

"Sh-shiro?" he whispered, his voice a dry, distorted version of himself. "Coran?"

"Right here, my boy," Coran said, and all watched as Lance seemed to flinch. They exchanged confused, worried glances. But since Lance had instigated it, Coran ever so lightly placed a hand on the blankets surrounding Lance near his shoulder.

"I'm here too," Shiro murmured, coming up and placing his flesh hand just next to Coran's.

"You're real?" he asked, voice small. Hunk's arms tightened ever so slightly around him.

"As real as magical Lions and a castle ship in space," Shiro said, his own small smile falling as it failed to elicit any type of similar reaction in Lance. "We're real, buddy. You're safe now."

Lance managed a tiny nod. He turned wide, sightless eyes to them, the faintest of tears brimming in the black corners. "I'm… I'm so sorry," he choked out. "I—"

"Now, now, none of that," Coran cut him off. "You have nothing to be sorry for, my boy," and he frowned as Lance winced again. The advisor had a sinking feeling now as to what was causing such a reaction and his eyes narrowed while grief tugged at his heart. "You just need to concentrate on resting so you can get better," he continued, forcing aside the ugly rage that had sprung up in the direction of that witch.

Lance did not look convinced in the slightest.

"Coran is right," Shiro said gently. "No apologies needed."

"But—" he tried, chest growing tight. He had to apologize.

For everything. For his weakness. His capture. His failures. His... his... Lance's wrists twinged and he choked on a whimper.

"You're still really hurt, Lance. And sick too. You just need to rest right now, all right?" Shiro interrupted him. "We'll talk about everything else later."

And Lance was too exhausted to argue anymore and so he gave the barest of nods. Later.

His stomach curled already.

"Almost there," Hunk said, as if reading his mind.

"You'll stay?" Lance asked, hating how pathetic it sounded but unable to fight back the fear that was starting to bloom at the idea of Hunk leaving.

"I won't leave your side."

They must have returned to their destination because all of a sudden a chorus of "Lance!" had him recoiling at the noise and seeking refuge in Hunk's embrace, even as he recognized the voices as those of his friends, his family. He squeezed his eyes shut to hide the sudden tears that he couldn't fully explain.

"Easy, give us some space," Coran instructed and a few ticks later Lance felt himself being lowered from Hunk's arms, a sharp pang of loss immediately striking him while at the same time relief that no one was touching him. But he could feel Hunk's presence still, hovering just off to the side and the pillows and blankets below him soothed away some of the hurt.

"Lance," he heard Allura murmur, her regal tones sad. He startled ever so.

Allura had... said his name?

"Everyone's here," Hunk explained to him, thinking that was the reason for his movement.

And Lance believed him about that. But at the same time he needed to know for himself. Without his sight – and the familiar gripping fear invaded at its loss – he couldn't know for sure. They weren't like Blue where he could feel their presence and assurance. At the same time he was so afraid of the unknown, of even a gentle hand settling on his shoulder like Coran and Shiro had done. But feeling them, knowing it was them, had calmed him like nothing else could have. He was absolutely torn on what he wanted and had no idea how to express it. He needed to know they were all there, all safe, but he was still so scared of the action itself. Traitorous tears pricked his eyes again.

Pathetic.

"Hey, it's okay," Hunk said, picking up on what Lance couldn't voice. "Estás bien, Lance. How about everyone goes one at a time, okay? Just like Coran and Shiro. I'll be right here too. Can... can I put my hand on your shoulder?" Lance managed a nod and a large, warm and always gentle hand lighted upon him.

Lance released his breath, regretting it immediately as coughs wracked him, but all that happened was Hunk kindly rubbed his thumb in a circle on Lance's shoulder as he regained himself. He managed another tired nod, his eyes fluttering closed.

Hunk nodded at Allura to go, as Lance had already heard her speak. The princess returned the gesture solemnly. "Lance, it is Allura," she said. And butterfly-light her slender hand settled next to Hunk's.

"Allura," Lance repeated, feeling the weight on his chest lessen slightly.

Hunk nudged Keith to go next, as the smaller boy was swaying on his feet, face tight with pain, and really should be lying down himself. "Hey," he said thickly. "It's... it's Keith." And he brought his hand down on Lance's other shoulder. He felt the muscles stiffen beneath him before they smoothed out.

"Keith," Lance murmured. He had never heard his rival sound so choked up and the thought warmed him that that concern was for him. Maybe… maybe Keith didn't dislike him as much as he thought.

There was silence then and Lance broke it with a rasped, "Pidge?" as he tried to hold back the fear that something had happened to her. A sniffle near his head sounded from where Pidge had clambered back onto the bed, her arms not able to stretch like the others.

"Right here," she said. And her hand descended to rest on his head, short fingers smoothing through his hair.

Lance's breath hitched and before he even realized what he was doing he was jerking up, backpedaling away from her, and instinctively gasping out "don't touch me," as the feel of long nails and distorted caresses took Pidge's place. "Don't touch me," he repeated desperately, squeezing his eyes shut as a dark croon caressed his mind.

It was wrong.

It was wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.

"Lance…" Pidge's broken sob brought him back to the present and he felt his stomach churn.

He'd hurt Pidge. She hadn't meant it. She wasn't Haggar. But still he found himself shuddering away from even Hunk's hand that came to rest back on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he managed. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm—"

"Lance, it's okay," Pidge whispered, although she didn't sound okay at all. "I'm the one who is sorry. I didn't… I didn't mean to… to hurt you." She seemed unsure and Lance hated that he had made her doubt, but he didn't even know how to try and explain why he didn't want her touching him. Shame burned his cheeks and he ducked his head so no one could see.

Around him the others were exchanged confused, scared glances, not sure what had brought on such a reaction and loathe to repeat it again. Lance was still cowering up against the headboard, face pale beneath the flush of fever.

"Estás bien," Hunk murmured. "Come on now, let's get you lying down again. You'll feel better." He carefully coaxed Lance out of his self-made corner and eased him back down onto the newest set of fresh sheets that Allura had the foresight to change while they were with Blue. Pidge scooted off the bed and dropped to the floor, shoulders hunched in. Allura drew her into a side embrace, rubbing the girl's shoulder gently.

"Can you hear me all right, Lance?" Coran asked. He received an exhausted inclination of the head against the throne of pillows propping Lance up. "I'm going to outline what is happening because time is of the essence. I know it might be a little hard to focus, so if you don't understand just let me know, all right?"

Another nod.

"I'll be brief. As Number Two said, I believe the saliidda should be about removed from your system and we have been giving your body fluids to replace what you have lost. You have also lost a good amount of blood, but we are doing what we can to replenish some of it. We have bandaged the injuries for now until a cryo-pod is available, but the best solution may be a medical procedure called stitches so as to best eliminate you from losing much more."

At that Lance's eyes pried themselves back open and even surrounded by black the fear was clear. "No," he whispered, the image of a needle bringing back the sharp sting of the injection that Theodek had used over and over and over. A single prick for the IV was all right, but anything else? He blanched. "Pl-please no."

"No stitches then," Coran assured, knowing that at this rate they may need to find something else to help close the injuries in the meantime as bandages were not doing the job. The Altean could almost feel Keith behind him wilt with relief too. He knew that this barbaric human practice was probably the best, but he would not force Lance against his wishes. They would do what they could and hope that a more stable environment would assist in the clotting.

"There are three other things we must take care of before you can go into the cryo-pod," Coran continued as quickly as he could. "One is the collar about your neck." Lance's breath hitched at the very mention of it. "Number Five disabled it, but we do still need to get it off. Unfortunately it does not have a clasp and we may have to resort to cutting it."

And Lance realized what that would mean. More pain. He swallowed back a sob. It never ended. Even here, amongst his family, he couldn't escape it. He couldn't escape anything. Haggar's dark promise rose up then, and he could almost hear her breathy cackle, hot on his face. There is no escape for you she whispered. Not from me.

He realized he must have gotten lost in the memory as he heard Hunk gently calling his name and only the soothing tones led him out of the darkness that had invaded his mind. "You with us again?" Hunk murmured, his hand a reassuring weight where it rested at the top of Lance's shoulder.

"'m sorry," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks turn dark again. "'m here."

"I am so sorry, Lance," Coran said, voice tinged with regret and his moustache drooping. "We will make the process as quick and painless as we possibly can."

And he knew that. Coran was no Haggar. So he forced himself to give a nod, even as a new wave of fatigue swept over him.

He was so tired.

"The next part is your fever," Coran said. "You are sick, ill. Given the severity of your injuries though we may have to allow them to take precedence; however, we have a few varga more until we can even think of a cryo-pod and it is my hope we may ease your fever and breathing before then." Lance inclined his head in acknowledgement, exhaustion tilting it more than himself.

Silence sounded then.

And? Lance wondered as Coran paused. What was the third thing? He could feel his focus starting to slip as the shock and fear from earlier gave way to the pain and exhaustion that had plagued him since he'd awoken in Galran captivity. He was just so tired.

"Your eyes," Coran said, voice low and heart aching as Lance stiffened again. "I am of the thought it is some type of Druid magic, but I'm afraid I know not much beyond that. Do you happen to know the cause so we can correct it?"

The cause?

It is my gift to you because I love you.

Haggar's words bounced in his head and he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

She had done this. Because he had... he had... his breath caught and somehow the pain emanating from his wrists seemed to amplify. He moaned softly, squeezing his eyes tight. They were going to find out what a coward he was. How pathetic he was. Haggar was right. Haggar…

"Hey, hey," and Hunk was there, breaking through the fog again and Lance clung to his voice like a lifeline. "It's okay. Estás bien."

"Let's not worry about that for right now then," Coran said. It was obvious the topic caused severe distress — more than he had expected even given the witch's involvement or he would not have brought it up so soon — and Lance was mentally in no state to respond right now. "We have a number of varga to go anyhow. How about we get you set up with some more fluids, hmm?"

Lance nodded to that and Coran set about prepping both the donated blood and another fluid pack. Miraculously the original one had remained secure after Hunk's dash from the room as it had been caught up in the blankets. After a few ticks of indecision, Coran opted to place a small amount of the sedative into the fluid bag this go around but knew this was likely the last time he could use it safely on the human body. He was tempted to hold off until they tried to remove the collar, but the boy's body needed rest now to strengthen it for what still had to happen.

"Get some sleep, Lance," Hunk suggested gently, his hand still lightly resting on the bed just above Lance's shoulder. He could see that his friend was losing the battle against exhaustion. "We'll figure everything out when you wake up."

"St-stay?" he whispered.

"We're not going anywhere," Hunk assured. "I'll be right here."

With Hunk's comforting presence hovering right next to him and projecting a safety he didn't think he'd ever experience again, the fear that was forcing him awake ebbed away.

"Sleep," Hunk murmured.

And Lance did.

Author's Notes:

I had a number of ways I played around with for Lance waking up and really waffled between a few. I think after all he's been through Lance has every right to be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary. When he first wakes with Hunk and Coran he's in so much pain and so confused that when they take away some of the hurt (the water counteracting the saliidda touch) he accepts it. But now that he's able to think a tad more clearly with the absence of the saliidda he's suspicious because *this* isn't normal. Poor baby.

Blue steals the show again as a Lion of her majestic-ness should do. Who better to soothe Lance's fears than the one being that Haggar could not possibly hope to replicate? Lance knows he's safe now, but it's clear he's got some triggers that the team is slowly becoming aware of. How do you comfort someone who is terrified of comfort?

I am still completely blown away by the response last chapter (should I wake up and update at 0430 every week? :p). I really needed the encouragement given some real life drama, and guys, just… thank you. You really know how to make a girl feel better and I made myself get this out earlier than I thought possible as a thank you to all of you. Also, hello to all the new faces; I can't believe how many of you are binge-ing this!

Extra big hugs to those beautiful reviewers who y'all should thank too for the early chapter: PurpleSkyHorizons, DoctorMerlinReid, KarleighH, Tony WildRiver, Guest, Jennyfish26, WhiteTails, Anonreader, Alexa, wingedflower, vickydd, JustADamFrenchFry, geekyglamour413, actresspdx, llamamoose23, Wolf of the Demise, fakeyourdecaf, lovemelau, CrispyFics, Guest, Sirrius The Moonblade, Shadow Gray, Arrowcomix, , Justanangryfangirl, Arivoctix, WhiteWolf100101, dragoscilvio, ShadowWolf, QuestionablyCapableGhoul, imagine forevermore, Adrianna Agray, ShiroHichi891, IceAurora, cats and violin, StrawberryFever3, Oliviadbell, LishaChan, HetaRosFangirl, Guest, Jadegem02, rwbygirl, TheHufflepuffHuntress, sally3015, Guest, BlueCookiesforRick, luminoslight1313, Lasagna, Spacenerd7, Pheonixwarrior123, Lu Lu-Chan25, Junko123, , White Space Lion, LeNolaNamiko, Belletiger BT, FanaticFangirl2602, Merlin's Knight, and Eeveecat1248!

I'm pretty excited about this chapter and hope you all enjoyed it too! Please do drop a comment below. Thank you all so much!