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As Color Fades Away

Chapter Fifty

"Allura! Allura, can you hear me?" Coran's tones sounded close by, full of worry.

The Altean princess groaned as hands pried at her shoulders and the yelling got louder around her.

"Allura, wake up!" Pidge's voice was right by her ear and she winced at the volume and how it made her head ache more. She shifted slightly and felt a coarse texture rub her cheek.

"What?" she mumbled, sounding not at all like a princess but rather a drunkard.

The voices became even more insistent and she felt strong hands wrap about her shoulders and pull her to sitting and even with her eyes closed she felt her vision spin.

"Allura, please, open your eyes," Coran was near begging now and sounding close to tears. Worry jolted through Allura at what could have caused this and despite the pain she forced them open.

They widened as she took in Coran, hovering just next to her and looking as anxious as when she had first come out of the cryo-stasis. But she couldn't focus on him for long as the scene beyond beckoned. They were on a beach, the coarse texture she had felt some type of sand. Water stretched out as far as she could see, of a dark blue hue that was slapping most alarmingly in rolls of tide. Above the sky was a foreboding gray and clouds loomed large.

"Where… where are we?" she gasped, whirling her head around to take in more of the scene, which seemed to go on and on for miles. She saw Shiro behind her, his hands holding her up, while Pidge was crouched on her left. Hunk and Keith were battling against the waves in the water and Hunk was screaming Lance's name, although it was being torn away by the wind that was growing stronger. Her stomach bottomed out as she realized who was missing. "Where is Lance? What happened?"

"We're not sure," Shiro said, and he sounded more shaken than Allura had ever heard him. "We all woke up here and Lance is... " he swallowed. "Lance is missing."

"He's not in the water," Keith announced, trudging over. His eyes turned to Allura then, flashing with a fire that made her throat catch as it all came back - fire and water and pain and light swallowed by darkness - and snarled, "You promised! You said you wouldn't hurt him and you did!"

"Keith!" Shiro snapped from behind her. "That's not helping!"

Guilt pulsed hot and heavy and Allura shook her head. "No, he is right. I…" She swallowed thickly. "I… I am sorry. I do not know what… what happened."

"Then start figuring it out," Keith growled.

"Hey," Hunk put a large hand on Keith's shoulder. "I'm worried too, Keith, but yelling at Allura won't make it better. Let's all just calm down…"

If Keith could have he'd have steam curling from his nostrils and he shrugged of Hunk's hand but didn't go anywhere, merely crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. He knew it was irrational to be angry at Allura, who seemed to be just as distraught and in pain, but he couldn't help it. Lance was missing because the princess tried to mess around with something she didn't know if she could control and they had no fucking clue where they were.

They'd been in the lounge one minute, frozen together in a mixture of pain and magic as Lance and Allura had both screamed, the conjoined sound nearly making Keith's sensitive ears bleed. And then the next thing he knew he was falling and falling and falling into blackness before he'd hit the ground - hard - and found himself on a stormy beach in the same clothing he'd been wearing in the castle.

The other Paladins and Coran had been conscious as well, climbing to their feet within seconds, but Allura had been passed out cold and Lance… Lance wasn't there. He and Hunk had caught each other's eyes and immediately taken off to the tumultuous ocean, as if Lance had landed there then…

Well, it wouldn't be good. Lance had been drowned, repeatedly, by their guess, and winding up in the middle of a churning ocean would be disastrous. And that was assuming he was awake. If he was unconscious like Allura then it would be a death sentence.

But whether it was good news or bad, they hadn't found Lance, although they hadn't been able to look as deep out as they'd wanted given the strength of the waves. One had taken Hunk down and if he hadn't been such a strong swimmer Keith was afraid he may have been dragged out to sea.

"Coran?" Shiro asked and there was so much uncertainty in Shiro's tone that it physically hurt to hear. "Do you have any ideas?"

A rumble of thunder crashed down then and everyone startled. Only the humans, recognizing the sound, looked to the sky. The clouds were coming in quicker, a full gale starting and the winds turning cold.

"This is not a normal storm," Hunk observed, feeling a chill down his spine. As if to emphasize his point another roll of thunder seemed to shake the very ground.

"And that would be because this is not a natural phenomenon," Coran said, jewel eyes narrowed in thought as he looked around.

"Do you know where we are?" Shiro asked.

Coran shook his head. "I do not think it is so much a where, Number One, as a who."

"Who?" Hunk repeated.

"I think…" Coran looked around again at the assembled group, "I think we may be inside Lance's mind."

"In his mind?" Pidge repeated, doubtful.

Allura though gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "Are you saying this is…?"

Coran nodded. "I believe this is Lance's mindscape."

"If this is his mind or mindscape or whatever it's called, then where's Lance?" Hunk asked, looking around as though expecting the boy in question to pop up.

"I am not sure," Coran said, rising to his feet and pulling Allura to hers. "But I imagine he should be around here, somewhere."

"What is a mindscape?" Keith demanded, fear making his tone even shorter than normal as more lightning crackled across the darkening sky.

"It's a space in one's mind," Coran said, words being pulled from his mouth and lost to the wind that was growing stronger. "It is an escape of sorts to protect the individual from physical pain that… that is normally fatal." His voice wavered on the last word and Allura blanched. She had… almost killed Lance?

"How is this protecting anyone?" Pidge asked, being batted about by the wind and Hunk put both hands on his shoulders to steady her, his bandana tails flapping. "This is going to build to a hurricane!"

"The mindscape reflects the individual's state of mind," Coran said, voice raised now to be heard.

And if the landscape had seemed harsh before it was downright ominous now. This… this was how Lance was feeling? Thunder rumbled again and a sharp sting of raindrops began to come down, the wind shooting them like bullets against exposed skin.

"We need to find Lance!" Shiro all but yelled, hand up to shield his eyes from the blowing sand. "Now!"

"Where?" Pidge asked despairingly. All around them was sand and more sand that led to the ocean, whose waves were crashing with a terrifying roar against the surf. Where did they go?

Where was Lance?

"There!" Hunk shouted, pointing down the beach. About a quarter mile away was an outcropping of rock that butted up to the shore's edge; a natural cove. It was the only thing other than sand and Hunk's gut instinct told him to go to it.

"Go," Shiro ordered, but as they all turned in that direction the wind seemed to pick up, sending Pidge stumbling fully back into Hunk and Keith lost his footing, only remaining upright due to Shiro's quick reflexes.

It was… it was as though the storm did not want them to go that way.

As if Lance did not want them to.

Well, Hunk gritted his teeth, that only made him more determined. Lance was out there, alone, and likely, given the state of the landscape, scared and in pain. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to his side. He'd told them they were in this together and he meant that with every piece of him. Lance was not going to weather this literal storm by himself.

Never again.

"Get behind me!" he yelled to Pidge, who was being pressed against him by sheer force. She nodded and keeping her hands firmly attached to his jacket maneuvered herself around, sock-clad feet digging into the sand. Hunk then lowered his head like a battering ram and plowed forward. Next to him he saw Shiro doing the same with Keith while Allura and Coran both forged on as they were, Allura's hair whipping wildly behind.

And with a determination to overpower even nature they battled their way across the sand.

xxx

Everything hurt.

That was the first thing that registered to Lance. His body was aching and his head felt like someone was trying to chisel into his brain. He let out a moan, fighting back tears from the sheer pounding pain.

What had happened? He couldn't remember. Fear spiked in him at that and he forced his eyes to open. Weak light filtered in and he squinted at it, trying to pick out through the gray hues some information. There was a loud, crashing sound now and his heart thumped wildly as he realized what it sounded like.

Waves. Powerful, angry waves.

Water.

That made him jolt right up, the movement sending his head spinning but that had nothing on the icy clench of his heart and the sudden burning of his lungs.

Because he knew where he was.

"No," he whimpered as cold stone walls with a sandy floor were revealed, offering a glimpse of the ocean just feet away and slamming against the walls. Thunder rumbled overhead and wind howled both outside the natural structure and in.

He was in his mindscape. How? How was he back here?

Why?

He choked on his next breath, terror seizing him as he looked wildly for Haggar to appear. Had she done this? Was she here?

But the Druid did not show herself and Lance released the painful breath, eyes still darting about. She had shown herself after he thought he was safe before. She could come at any moment.

He scrambled backwards, stone hitting his back and he flinched at the rough edge. A glance down showed that he was back in his swim trunks from before, blue and white not marred by droplets of blood.

Not like last time when he'd...he'd… But as if summoned Lance felt a sharp sting and then fire seemed to erupt along his arms. He wailed, the sound lost to the screaming winds, but even that was not enough to express his pain.

His head smashed into the rock behind him but that did not dull it at all. It only made it worse, the hit too reminiscent of smashing into metal walls as water tossed him about before he had made the decision to…

His wrists burned anew and Lance tried to swallow the next sob, bowing his head and pulling his now bloodied arms to his chest. He didn't want to look at them but found his eyes drawn down nonetheless, tracing the broken, gaping wounds he had inflicted upon himself.

The burn scar covering his arm was there as well and at the observation it pulsed with a fresh wave of agony and a low keen built in his throat and he hugged the limbs tighter to his chest as if that could help.

The wind only howled louder and the waves beat out a war cry on the rock.

What was happening? Why was he here? Why was this happening to him again? Hadn't he been rescued? Wasn't he safe in the castle with—

Memory struck like a freight train and he gasped as white light seemed to explode in his head, followed by a mawing black that left him panting and shuddering. That's right. Allura had been trying to control their quintessence.

And clearly it had not gone as planned.

He stifled another sob as remembered agony raced through him, the sound of Allura's screams echoing with his own.

But if Allura had been there… if the others had been connected then did that mean...

That they were here with him?

The wind picked up, dashes of cold, sharp rain sneaking in as surely as icy tendrils wrapped about his heart. If they were here…then they would see.

His gaze went back to his freely bleeding wrists, jagged lines of failure exposed to all the world.

They would know.

"No," he whispered. "N-no. D-Dios, no…"

Not like this. They weren't supposed to find out like this.

"Please," he cried, fingers digging against the flesh as though he could pull it back together. "Por favor…"

He felt that almost familiar pressure on his mind then, the whisper of water. But the natural basin from last time was gone. All that was here were the waves, raging a timpani outside and Lance moaned. No. No. He couldn't. Not again.

The ocean roared louder and Lance flinched back against the far rock wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Dios, por favor," he begged, "ayúdame. Por favor. I… I c-can't…"

The wind only shrieked louder and more icy rain battered its way inside.

Why was this happening? Why was he here? Why were these wounds the only ones present? Even thinking about the burn hadn't caused it to actually reform and his wrist did not bend back unnaturally. No claw marks decorated his shoulders or holes in his hands.

The answer came with horrifying clarity as he hunched over his bleeding wrists.

Those wounds had all healed.

These ones had not.

These ones were not so much a physical wound but one he had inflicted upon his very soul. He had done this. He hadn't been able to forgive himself, not even with Blue's support, for this crime. For this sin.

And he couldn't hide from it here. Not here, where his mind was literally laid bare and his agony was expressed through tangible means. As if to agree more rain crept in, but this time it was warm. Sticky.

Blood.

Lance recoiled from it as another sob heaved its way free.

He… he wasn't this messed up still, was he? He thought he'd been getting better. But Haggar had said his mindscape reflected him and… well… He had no doubts she had been telling the truth about that one.

Was he really this weak? This pathetic, still?

Thunder crashed so loud that the rock shook and Lance felt a few pieces pepper down and cracks etched themselves into the walls.

He was destroying his own mind.

He was hurting himself.

He needed to get control. But how?

A hysterical, desperate sounding laugh burst from his throat as the old adage of 'what would Shiro do?' came to him then.

But as he pictured his hero he felt something… warm… inside him and the icy grip receded just a bit. He remembered Shiro holding him, his passionate words that Lance had never let them down, had never let him down. That he was proud of him.

Lance shuddered out another cry, but this one did not hurt as much. It calmed him. He gulped noisily for air then, feeling the sticky hot rain being replaced with the cold watery version of before.

Better. Still awful, but better. He pressed his forehead to his upturned knees, trying to focus then on the rest of his family and their love to calm the literal raging storm inside of him.

But he couldn't.

The ocean was still shouting its challenge, each breaking wave sending him recoiling against the wall because any second now the rock would give and the water would come in and he would drown drown drown—

His wrists throbbed in remembrance and he felt more hot blood gush from them, painting his chest and he cried out, pressing them more against him.

And then, over the sound of the screaming wind, he heard something else.

Voices.

No. No no no no.

"Por favor," he sobbed, "not like this. P-please. Please."

Panic and shame and terror rolled together and he heard the voices grow louder as the rain turned back into blood.

No. Please no. They couldn't see. He couldn't let them see. Let them know.

They'd hate him. They'd hate him, they'd hate him, they'd hate him, they'd—

"Lance?"

Hunk's voice, hoarse and scared cut through the spiraling thought but Lance only curled himself tighter around his knees.

They'd found him. Dios, they were here.

"Lance!" called out Pidge's voice, high and terrified, and then other voices joined in, seeming to echo about the small space as they piled in.

"Is that blood?"

"Holy shit!"

"Lance, what's wrong?

"Lance, mírame."

"Oh God."

Lance whimpered and tried to shrink back as if preventing the inevitable for another minute would make it all go away. He couldn't face their disappoint. Their disgust. Blue was wrong. They could never forgive him for what he'd done.

How could they when he couldn't forgive himself?

"Lance, hey," Hunk's voice was close now. So close. "Hermano, estás bien. Estás bien. It's just me. Soy Hunk."

Lance kept his face firmly pressed against his knees, curled up as much as he could be against the wall so he didn't see their faces when they realized how pathetic he really was.

"Lance, por favor, mírame," Hunk murmured and Lance gave the barest shake of his head. No. He couldn't. "It's just me, Lance. It's okay," Hunk tried to soothe and Lance realized that yes, the other voices had stopped. But he knew they were still inside and here because outside it was raining blood.

Raining blood because he couldn't stop it because he was weak.

A large hand descended butterfly light on his shoulder and despite himself Lance leaned into it, into the warmth and protection that Hunk offered.

"It's okay," Hunk repeated, although his voice shook and Lance felt guilt swell in him now too. He was scaring Hunk. Hurting him. He didn't want that. He'd never wanted that.

He'd wanted to protect them.

And he'd failed, so, so badly.

"I'm here. It's okay," Hunk continued. "You're safe, Lance. Nothing… nothing is going to hurt you. I promise."

At least, Hunk hoped it was a promise he could keep. Because something had hurt Lance. There was blood all over the floor of the rocky shelter, more than what should have been possible from the sprinkles of the – ugh, he cringed thinking about it – rain of blood that had cropped up. It was covering Lance's chest from what he could see since Lance was wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks in this strange place. There was so, so much of it and a week ago Hunk probably would have puked. But his stomach had grown stronger in the last two days and now all he did was shift his hand around Lance's back, pulling him slightly off the cold rock wall and letting Lance settle into his arm instead.

Lance only shuddered though and kept his arms locked fully to himself and head down.

Hunk looked up from Lance's shivering form to where the rest of the group had clustered a few feet away to give them space, horror and fear clear but above all of that worry and concern. They'd all immediately tried to rush toward Lance but Coran had thrown his arm out, stopping them. They would not be having a repeat of the first time Lance had awoken with the group and all of the concern only scaring him. He'd caught Hunk's eye and nodded and Hunk had hurried forward.

Because all of that blood? It was streaming down the back of Lance's arms and Hunk had a terrifying idea of where it was coming from and if he was right then Lance did not, would not, want anyone to see. Not in this way.

But if this was how it was going to happen – and Hunk had a sick feeling that a large part of the turmoil lashing outside was because of this one injury – then he was going to ease Lance into it as best he could, to make him as comfortable as possible in this really, really awful situation.

However, Lance was not responding to him. He wasn't lost in a memory, Hunk didn't think, as he had sworn Lance had shaken his head when he asked him to look at him. So if it wasn't a flashback then it meant that all of this pain was from the here and now and it was so overwhelming that Lance couldn't break free.

"Coran," he whispered and that was all the urging the advisor needed, moving silently over to the two of them and crouching down in front of Lance.

"Lad," Coran whispered, not touching, but his tone as good as a caress. "How can we help?"

Lance gave a small shake of his head.

"You c-can't," he mumbled, words obscured by his knees. "I… I…."

"You are hurt," Coran said gently and Lance stiffened under Hunk's hand. "Please, lad, let us help you."

"You can't," Lance repeated, voice small. "I… I did th-this."

"And together we can fix it," Coran said softly. He placed a hand carefully on Lance's knee. "You are not alone anymore, Lance."

"You'll h-hate me," Lance whispered, barely audible.

"Never," Hunk said vehemently and Lance shied at the tone. "Never," he repeated, softer. "Lance, we love you. Te quiero, hermano."

"But I…"

Lance finally raised his head, ocean eyes red-rimmed and tears streaming down mocha cheeks. "I..." he choked out. "I..."

His gaze saw past Hunk and Coran then, lighting upon the others and flinched as through struck, averting it back to his drawn up knees.

That was enough for Shiro. He couldn't stand by while Lance was in so much pain – so much blood, how? – and he came carefully forward, not surprised at all when the others joined him. But Coran nor Hunk made to stop them and Shiro crouched down next to the Altean advisor.

"Lance," he said as calmly as he could, aware of Pidge creeping even closer and sitting just inches from Lance's other side and Keith mimicking his own pose between himself and Hunk and he could feel the tension thrumming off of Keith. Allura remained standing behind him, arms wrapped about herself in a measure of self-comfort but her eyes were steady on Lance. "Buddy, it's okay. We're here to help."

"You can't," Lance said, desperation leaching into the tone. "You c-can't."

"You're bleeding," Shiro pointed out delicately. "Let's bandage you up, okay?"

Lance shook his head though, fervently and pressed his arms together to his chest. "N-no. You can't. You can't… you can't s-see," and the last word was said so quietly they wondered if they'd heard it at all.

"What can't we see?" Shiro asked gently.

Lance shook his head again. "You can't," he mumbled. "You'll h-hate me."

Shiro hated the uneasiness that was turning his stomach as Coran and Hunk exchanged a glance in front of him. They'd done that a few times now, but Shiro hadn't given it any thought. Now though he wondered what he was missing.

"We won't hate you," Keith said, tone an odd mixture of softness and fierceness. Like he was trying to talk down a wild animal that he wasn't sure would lash out or not. And, Shiro's stomach rolled again, he hated how accurate that depiction was.

"Lance, please," Pidge gripped her own knees tightly, knuckles white. "You're hurt. Please let us help."

Lance shivered again, not even Hunk's warmth enough to chase away the chill. What did he do? They couldn't sit here in this stalemate forever. They were going to find out. They were going to know and then all of this concern would vanish because he was weak and pathetic and… and…

He felt Haggar's sneer and her cold hands took the place of Hunk's warm ones. You may have hidden it before but now the other Paladins see you for what you are: a disgrace. He shuddered and heard the others call his name as he bent his face back over his knees.

"Lance, we wish to help," Allura murmured. But her voice morphed then into something crueler. Anyone who would fall so far as to take their own life is no Paladin of Voltron and Lance choked back a cry as darkness took hold.

But then Hunk's arm tightened about him in a hug and with it came a new burst of warmth against Haggar's ice and her grip disappeared, washed away with more murmured, soft tones from all around him of "estás bien," "we want to help," please, Lance" and he drew them all close to drive out more of the cold.

Allura had never said those words. Haggar had. Haggar had tried to trick him, to feed him lies when he had refused to give in.

She was a liar.

Instead Allura had told him… told him that Blue chose him. That she supported Blue's decision and would not replace him. And Blue had told him that the others would listen. They would understand. And he believed in Blue. He believed in her with all his heart.

They will never accept you, Haggar hissed, her touch cold, not after what you have done.

But… he'd done it for them. To protect them. To save them. He'd told Haggar that once upon a time. His determination had burned bright then, even in the shadow of her darkness and twisted words. He'd known then why he'd done it.

He'd always known, deep down. But that decision had been distorted from pain and cruel words and lies until he had not known what to think.

But he did now. He knew why.

They do not know that, Haggar reminded him. And they never will.

But they could. He shook in Hunk's hold. He could tell them. Explain his words over his actions. The shame, the sense of failure was still there, but…

That was not all that had fueled his decision. He had offered all of himself, all that he could possibly give, to protect them and keep them safe. That was what mattered.

It was time he stopped letting Haggar control that fear. It was time he let his family's love in instead. He loved them. He believed in them. And after they all had said and done, why should he doubt that they felt the same? Why should he believe Haggar's poisonous words over their own?

He shouldn't. And he didn't.

Outside the sky ceased its bloody torrent, still raining but giving way to the patter of raindrops, and the waves calmed their relentless attack on the rocks. Lance could practically feel the tension, the bated breath, in the room. But more than that he felt their concern. Their worry.

Their love.

He raised his head, dark eyes drinking in his family all clustered about him.

They were here. For him.

They loved him. No matter what. He could almost fee Blue's reassurance then, a gentle nuzzle that seemed to warm him from the inside. Strengthen him. Encourage him.

He could do this. He could tell them and they would understand. They wouldn't be disgusted like Haggar said. They wouldn't turn him away or kick him out. He trusted them and loved them and it was time he accepted that they felt the same.

Lance took a calming breath and then ever so slowly unfolded his arms.

xxx

Author's Notes:

And yes, that is indeed where I am cutting this chapter off. *runs cackling into the night* And ha, back to the mindscape we go! Some readers from the Q&A may remember I mentioned we would be returning here and I hope it did not disappoint. And would you look at that, Lance didn't end up getting to tell Coran and Hunk because instead he's going to tell everyone. Everything happens for a reason after all and getting blasted into his mindscape, as terrifying as it is, may be what Lance really needs. Please put away your pitchforks now? :p

Wow guys. This is chapter fifty. FIFTY. Damn. A few other big milestones too that I owe all to you guys. We've hit 3,000 reviews (hot damn), 100,000 views, and over 250k words. Just wow. Thank you all for your support of this fic. I never had any idea it would morph into something this grand and for all of those who have been supporting me along this journey, whether you've been here since the beginning or dived in in the thirties, I cannot thank you enough.

The biggest of thanks go to the reviewers whose comments never fail to inspire me: KarleighH, imaginationoverload97, hobbes101, dragoscilvio, Wolf of the Demise, This-Lil'-Fan-Girl, Guest, ASleepDeprivedPineapple, WhiteTails, Subtle Shenanigans, Shadow Gray, Guest, dragonrush, Guest, Guest, wingedflower, imagine forevermore, Ginko Kataribe, CaptainHuggyface3218, Guest, Adrianna Agray, Cindymack3, IceAurora, StrawberryFever3, PaintedWings45, LishaChan, Fir3danc3r, Nellie Bachesneg, Cats and violin, heyheroics, Alexa, JustADamFrenchFry, Justanangryfangirl, bigtimedreamer101, migrane, Pfeh, TheHufflepuffHuntress, Tony WildRiver, geekyglamour413, Guest, Lasagna, Eeveecat1248, Noel, TheTheoryofFangirling, yazbk2988, Supergurkan, 0WolfFaerie0, rwbygirl and Popo-chaaan!

And because I had a few people ask about my quintessence/element in regards to last chapter, here's how I interpret my own: I think my color would be pink (a nice warm blush pink) and the element I would be actually associated with would be "light". Like, light is both warm and cold and it glows and dims. I'm a comforter by nature and I love to see people happy and see that as sort of just glowing and encompassing and filling people with warmth. But on the flip I'm really, really hard on myself and when I get into that kind of self-doubt and hate it just sort of… dims. It never goes out (I'm too positive and optimistic and always believe that things can get better) for that to happen, but it does get colder. So with the team if Allura had been trying to add me to the circle, I think it might have started off as this darker, really warm pink that reminds you a bit of a candle maybe or a fireplace (you know, that feeling when you're being warmed and everything is just peaceful and nice) and then it would have transformed into this really cold, pale pink (like a rose quartz) that is no longer soft but sharp and hard and its cold to the touch and hurts to look (i.e. looking at the sun during a sunset (nice) and then staring at it at high noon (ouch)). If that makes sense.

Okay, wow. I'm still typing. So sorry. I will be doing another Q&A if you are interested in attending since it's been a few months and quite a bit has happened since then. For those new to it, it's an opportunity to chat with me and fellow readers in real-time and ask questions about really anything and I generally answer pretty in-depth :p It'll be held on Tuesday, January 23 at 2000 hours CST (8 pm for you non-military time folks). Link is on my profile and you are certainly welcome to submit questions ahead of time even if you can't make it.

Please do drop a review before you click off. I'd love to hear what you thought of the chapter. Thanks so much!