Warning note: This chapter is being tagged with graphic violence.
It's been a while since we've had something quite this violent, hence
a warning. Please be advised for some upcoming imagery and scenes. Thanks!
As Color Fades Away
Chapter Sixty-Five
The ringing in his head was overwhelming, a high, sharp whistling that pounded over and over and over.
Lance groaned, but he could barely even hear that. His eyes were screwed shut but even then he could feel the world spinning around and his stomach rolled to match it.
He didn't have time to lie there though. Hunk was… Hunk was…
He forced his eyes open, taking in the blurry gray hues of the kitchen that they had been blasted into. Groaning, he tried to move but there was a heavy weight pressing on his lower half and keeping his legs pinned.
Hunk!
Lance felt it shift and relief burst through his chest. Hunk was okay! He craned his neck to look for his best friend, but found his eyes widening in horror instead.
Because while Hunk was moving it wasn't by his own hand. Theodek had lifted him by the neck brace of his armor like one would a wayward puppy, lip curled in detest, before, he threw Hunk to the side where he crashed, unmoving. Crimson immediately began to spill out beneath him.
Lance desperately tried to scramble up, but his right hand gave way under him and before he could even so much as kneel he felt a clawed hand descending into his hair and digging into his scalp.
A low moan was torn from him as Theodek lifted him up, knees leaving the ground and all of his weight nearly dangling from the hold. His head pounded and his vision swam again, purple and gray and black converging in on one another.
"Well, well," Theodek grinned, giving him a shake, "looks like it is just you and me now, boy."
Lance weakly lifted his left hand and tried to scratch at Thodek's hand, but his blunt nails did nothing to the Galran and all he got was another shake that pulled reflexive tears to his eyes.
"Nothing to say?" the Galran sneered. "Fine with me. I'll just have you scream instead."
He threw Lance in the opposite direction of Hunk and he skidded some on the smooth kitchen floors. Theodek didn't even give him a chance to try and get up as a booted foot found is way under his ribs and he was punted further still, slamming into the island.
Theodek was taking his time approaching and Lance took the moment for all it was worth, frantically looking for his bayard as since he wasn't wearing his armor it hadn't dematerialized into its holster.
There! It was lying right by the hole they'd been blasted through. If he could just get to it…
A harsh chuckle broke into his thoughts and he realized Theodek had followed his gaze. "As though I would allow such a thing. No, child. You had your chance and you failed."
Lance didn't have a response for that. He was right after all.
He should have just taken the shot.
He still could though. He had to. He had to stop Theodek so he could get Hunk – his eyes shifted to where the larger boy was sprawled on the ground – to a pod. It couldn't be too late. Hunk couldn't be… he couldn't be…
As if summoned a soft, wet moan sounded from Hunk's direction.
"He lives?" Theodek sounded surprised. His grin sharpened. "Not for long. One moment, child, and then you shall have my undivided attention."
He turned then, heavy steps leading back towards Hunk and unsheathing his axe from where it had rested on his hip.
"No," Lance choked out, pushing himself to his hands and ignoring the pain the action caused. "N-no. Stop."
His words fell on deaf ears.
"Stop," he repeated, voice cracking as he managed to get to his knees and then, bracing his left hand against the island, and pull himself to a wobbly stand.
What it was going to accomplish though he had no idea. He was too far away to lunge at Theodek, for all the hindrance he would make, and his bayard was across the room and useless in this moment.
But Hunk was going to die if he didn't do something.
A low sob was torn from his throat at how pathetically useless he always was when it mattered. He'd already gotten Pidge and Keith killed. Now Hunk.
For all their talk about his compassion, his love, his desire to protect… how was it that he only ever hurt others?
His left hand clenched on the counter ledge, knuckles white. He glanced at it, knowing it wouldn't have the strength to land any sort of punch that mattered. But… his eyes widened as they took in what else was on the counter.
Knives.
The entire set was laid out on a set of towels, still drying from their failed use earlier on the weird vegetables.
Lance had never wielded a knife before other than to help out in the kitchen. He had no idea what each one's purpose was supposed to be the way Hunk did. The only thing he knew was that knives were sharp.
Sharp was good.
He grabbed the nearest one, a longer, thinner blade than the typical dinner knife and turned it in his grip. He had no idea how one was supposed to throw a knife, the closest reference he had from the movies, but it was going to be learning on the fly.
Taking one steadying breath Lance raised the knife, lining it up with the back of Theodek's head.
Was it honorable to attack from behind? No. Did Lance care in this moment? No. Absolutely not. Not when if he didn't then Hunk was dead.
The blade flew with the barest whistle through the air at the Galran, who had his axe raised now and looked ready to lower it in a final swing.
Just as arms made to come down the knife connected.
Not through his head, as had been Lance's intention, but the blade sank into the back of his left shoulder through the armor and Theodek roared in pain, whirling to face Lance and for the moment Hunk forgotten.
Lance felt his knees quake at the sheer rage and hatred in those narrowed yellow eyes, but he was relieved. Hunk was safe. For now.
Now he just had to somehow get himself out of this too.
"You!" Theodek snarled, closing the distance between them in mere steps. Lance desperately picked up another knife – a large meat cleaver – and threw it, but with a jerky movement of the axe Theodek knocked it aside. Lance had just managed to close his hand around a third knife – this one serrated edges – when Theodek was upon him.
Lance threw his hands up to try and create some distance as the bulk of the Galran crashed into him and he was shoved painfully back against the counter, feeling the edge dig into his spine. That had nothing though on Theodek's claws that pierced into his shoulders through the jacket and Lance screamed as blood poured down his arms.
Theodek shook him, nails digging in even deeper and Lance tried desperately to pull back even though he had nowhere to go. The knife was pressed flat between both of them and he couldn't maneuver it free.
"I will make you beg for death," Theodek growled, breath hot on his face.
In answer Lance gathered his feet to him, weight being held in place by Theodek, and kicked out with everything he had just like in the cell to start his escape attempt.
It was by no means the strongest kick he'd ever launched, but it was enough as his shoed heels caught Theodek in his armor-less thigh and propelled him backwards.
The Galran grunted at the impact and Lance choked out a scream as the claws ripped themselves free. He collapsed to the ground without the support holding him up, but he couldn't stay there long.
Fighting back the pain he rolled to the side, smudged crimson trailing behind, and tried to get back to his feet. But Theodek was too quick and Lance was always, always too slow.
Before he'd managed to even rise to his hands and knees the Galran was there, knee slamming into Lance's back and shoving him to the ground with a cry.
Frantically Lance brought his left arm around, seeking to hit anything with the knife still clutched in it. But a crueler grip then his own closed about his wrist and squeezed so hard that he dropped it with a shriek and his hand was forced flush to the floor.
Theodek leaned forward, more weight pressing into Lance's back and he dully wondered if his spine was about to break, before the Galran picked up the knife, turning it once in his grip. Then with a casual shrug he brought it down through the captured hand.
Lance screamed. For one terrifying moment the kitchen was replaced with purple lights and even colder floors before Theodek's voice brought him back to the present and his head ached with renewed pain.
"Now this looks familiar," Theodek chuckled over the sound of Lance's low moan. "Yet it is missing something."
He leaned forward once more and wrenched Lance's right arm back to him, holding it pinned behind his back. Lance's breath hitched on the next sob as he felt claws trace lines as they ripped off the jacket sleeve and exposed the burn scar to the world.
No.
Not again.
He tried to tug his arm free, legs kicking out uselessly behind and in answer Theodek twisted it more.
"This, however, I do not care for," he growled, shaking the captured arm. "This resistance. This fight. You think yourself a Paladin now, child?"
"I… I am," Lance gasped out, whimpering a moment later as claws dug into the burn and he felt hot blood begin to drip. He was. He was.
Even if… even if all he did was let them down.
"No," Theodek murmured, breath ghosting across Lance's ear and he stilled his movements. "You are not."
Lance felt his heart beating out a timpani against the floor, pulse thundering so loud but even that could not drown out Theodek's words.
He was a Paladin. He knew that. Just…
Right now he was nothing more than the child Theodek claimed. Weak and helpless and useless to protect anyone. Not even himself.
"There," Theodek whispered, nearly nipping at his ear and Lance hated that he flinched from it. "Much better."
Lance whimpered low in his throat and felt tears stinging his eyes as Theodek traced his claws down his forearm. He strained his left hand against the knife pinning it to the floor, but red bubbled and he heaved out a sob as the edges cut deeper.
This was how it was going to end?
Another scream was torn from him as he felt Theodek slice into the scar and ripped the flesh open as he had done once before.
"Isn't this nice?" Theodek asked, a smile to his voice, as he continued to pull apart the wound and Lance thrashed below him to no avail. His wrist was twisted cruelly and Lance felt white-hot fire flare down the limb and the audible crack of bones being shattered once more.
His vision darkened for the briefest moment before it came back in full when Theodek twisted the now broken limb.
"Scream for me, child. Scream and despair."
Lance did so, hating every sound that was pulled from him. They were growing hoarser now but that did not seem to bother the Galran, who merely raked his claws against the gaping wound once again.
He could feel himself growing weaker with each tear, his own blood adding to the macabre mess of the kitchen. He cast blurred eyes over to where Hunk had fallen, true despair welling. For as soon as Theodek was done with him – leaving him clinging to a thread of life for Haggar – he would go to Hunk and finish what he had started.
Just like Pidge. And Keith. And probably Shiro and Allura and Coran, battling Haggar.
He'd killed them all.
But as he looked to Hunk's face he jolted with a start to realize that half-lidded eyes were gazing back at him.
"H-Hunk," he garbled out, the word lost to another shriek as Theodek set his sights on mangling his right hand even more and his thumb was snapped completely backwards.
No. He didn't want Hunk to see this. To see him so weak and pathetic and let his screams be the last sounds Hunk heard. No.
He choked back his next cry as his index finger broke.
Tears were dripping down Hunk's cheeks beneath his helmet and he met Lance's without hesitation. Lance held that honey gaze, unable to look away. It was the most comfort he was going to get.
But even so he found his attention drifting as a white light emitted to Hunk's right as his bayard formed next to him without a sound. It began to charge, but unlike normal only a single blaster was turning teal.
A concentrated shot.
Hunk shuddered ever so slightly, Lance's name on his lips before his eyes fluttered closed.
In that same instant his bayard launched a sizzling streak of light across the kitchen straight at Lance and Theodek.
Lance closed his own eyes and waited for the end.
xxx
This was not going as well as Pidge had hoped. She had thought once they cleared the ship it would become easier to maneuver Keith, but there was still a whole field of debris that lay between them and the empty expanse of space to the castle.
Pidge had re-positioned Keith so he was horizontal to her and was resting her broken left wrist as carefully as she could over his upper thigh and her right was secured around his far shoulder, holding him to her body as best she could so she could protect his head, and she was pushing him forward.
Her jetpack gave another splutter and she swore below her breath. She had no idea how much time she had left before it went completely out and if that happened while they were floating in space… she gulped. She would have nothing to propel them with and they'd be stranded. Just like when the castle had gone haywire and she and Hunk had been trapped in Green's hangar, just a thousand times worse as Keith was dying and needed a pod stat. He didn't have time for them to be hovering out here.
That, and Pidge needed to get back into the fight. She had no idea what she could contribute, but injury wise she was only down her non-dominant hand and she sure as hell could wield her bayard with just her left.
After Keith was in a pod though. No matter what was happening in there right now she had to have faith that her family was holding their own and Keith was her priority. She was his only hope.
And that was a terrifying thought indeed.
"Come on," she pleaded, directing it at both her jetpack, Keith and herself, hunching protectively over Keith's face as they cleared a still smoldering piece of debris.
Behind her she heard a giant groan and she craned her head, just in time to see the Galran cruiser crumpling in on itself and the rising ball of blue and white flame that was going to explode one, final time.
"Oh fuc—"
And her curse was swallowed up by the blast.
xxx
Allura groaned as she clambered back to her feet, leaning heavily on her staff for a moment of balance.
She had known that Haggar was not an easy opponent. She had known not to expect to beat her on her own.
But she hadn't realized just how difficult even landing a hit was going to be.
"You okay?" Shiro asked quietly, sounding just as winded as she felt, but the tone was calm all things considered rather than the reckless grief of a few minutes ago. A fresh line of blood was dripping down his face where Haggar's spell had shattered his helmet and he'd had to yank the whole thing off to see clearly.
"We do not have time for this," Allura replied, eyes narrowing at Haggar, who for all the universe appeared to be lounging while standing. "Lance and Hunk…" she swallowed.
She had tried twice to contact Hunk while Shiro had stepped in to engage, but both quick attempts had received no response.
Allura prayed it was a situation similar to Shiro losing his helmet, but the curling in her stomach told her something worse had happened. She needed to get to them, but Haggar was playing with them like a cat to a captured mouse.
It was beyond infuriating.
The witch had even stopped creating clones, opting instead to deflect her and Shiro's attacks with her actual form and even then they had yet to deal her any significant injury. Allura had managed once to get inside her defenses with the staff, landing a strike to her left forearm while Haggar had been engaged with Shiro but it did not seem to have slowed her at all despite the fact Allura knew she'd hit hard enough to shatter bone.
Allura scowled, leaning forward slightly on slippered feet. If only she had had time to change herself into her armor. But she had made straight for the bridge and had not left it until… until everything had gone to pieces. Her left foot was aching from where she'd landed awkwardly on it to avoid a direct magic blast to her head and she wished again for proper fighting wear.
"I had thought this would be more entertaining," Haggar sighed, shaking her head. "I am disappointed to be proven wrong."
"We are not done yet, witch," Allura snarled, twirling her staff back into a two-handed grip.
"Aren't we?" Haggar clucked her tongue. "I bore of this fight." She brought both of her hands together and pulled them apart with a sharp crackle, black and purple lightning dancing at her fingertips. "I suppose it is time I ended it. Consider it a mercy; I will allow you to be reunited with your dear Paladins, Princess."
Allura bristled and Shiro growled next to her.
"But not you, my Shiro," Haggar said, turning her yellow gaze upon him. "You will return with me and become my champion once again."
Shiro felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at her words and the absolute confidence in which she spoke them. His right arm twitched at his side and Haggar was drawn to it, a dark smile pulling up her lips.
"Oh, I could make you into such a champion," she murmured. "The likes of which the universe has never seen."
"He is already a champion," Allura growled out and Shiro started next to her. "One of the truest and most honorable I have ever known. He is not yours, witch, nor will he ever be."
"I suppose you consider him yours then, Princess?" Haggar cocked her head with an amused air. "What is he to you? Your attack dog? He is quite blood thirsty you know. A real monster, spawning nightmares even still."
Shiro couldn't help but flinch at the reminder of his time in the arena, still coming back in bits and pieces, but he knew she spoke the truth and he hated it.
"He is our leader," Allura bit back, standing tall and Shiro felt his own shoulders, slumped previously with exhaustion, straighten and a warmth burst in our chest. "And you, witch, are the monster."
Haggar merely chuckled. "If that was meant to wound me you are mistaken. I know I am a monster, Princess, and take your comment as the highest compliment.
Shiro tensed as Haggar shifted ever so slightly. "I tire of this banter. Let us end this so I may continue to where my Lance is waiting for me."
And without another word of warning, Haggar threw her hands forward and the black and purple energy leapt towards them.
Allura went to bat it away with her staff as she had been and Shiro ducked underneath the first pass. And while both successfully managed to do so, neither was prepared to come face to face with a small army of Haggar clones, each armed with their own glowing orb.
"Fuck," Shiro said elegantly.
Those were the last words spoken over the course of the next few minutes. Well, except for the grunts and short yelps of pain as despite their best attempts Haggar's attacks were connecting and they were unable to find the real one amongst all of the swarming clones.
Allura would block one sphere only to have a second from behind rise up and it was all she could do to make it into a glancing blow rather than a full on assault. Still, her left arm was throbbing with a blistering burn and it was slowing her movements, which allowed a second and third shot to collide; one glancing off her right leg and the other off her shoulder and the last one sent her collapsing to her knees as a shriek was pulled from her lips and her staff clattered away.
"Allura!" screamed Shiro, trapped between two Haggars himself.
The Altean groaned as a pair of boots stopped in front of her nose and she lifted her eyes up, meeting the sharp yellow gaze of who she knew had to be the real Haggar.
"This is the end, Princess." Haggar raised her hand, wreathed in pitch black lightning that Allura knew she had no hope of dodging.
It really was the end. Despair and anger and fear warred in equal measure but she kept her gaze steady, not willing to give the witch any satisfaction even as her stomach curled and Shiro's shouts and struggles grew more desperate.
"Farewell."
But Haggar never released her attack.
Instead, a high, sharp ear-splitting wail was torn from the Druid and she stumbled forward, tripping over Allura and crashing to the floor as well, purple light fizzling on the back of her head and a burnt, black hole showing through her hood.
And standing at the entrance of the room, was Coran, blaster light matching the flame burning in his narrowed eyes.
"Farewell," he echoed.
xxx
Author's Notes:
I feel particularly evil this chapter. *settles back on throne made of bones* Excluding death threats or acts of violence upon my person, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter so drop a review below and make the author happy. Please and thank you! And thank you to those who left a comment last chapter; you are beautiful, wonderful people.