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As Color Fades Away
Chapter Sixty-Eight
They'd made it.
Four minutes and twenty-two seconds.
Pidge resisted the urge to collapse in the doorway of the infirmary despite the fact her legs were barely holding her up and her breath was coming in heavy, wet pants and she could taste copper once more on her tongue.
Not important.
Pidge, for all her skills, really had no idea how to calibrate the cryo pods. Everything was written in Altean and while she had gotten pretty good at translating parts of it relating to crystal and shield outputs the medical jargon went over her head.
Fortunately, Coran had been down in the infirmary to prep a pod for the injured Tloan.
Pidge thought of the corpse of the mother and the fact the son had likely suffered a similar fate.
He certainly wouldn't be needing it anymore.
Keith though. Keith desperately did.
She dragged him over to the pod, going to bite her lip and halting as both blood and pain registered at the action. Coran may have prepped it but she had no idea if the settings were correct. The Tloan had been double the size of Keith and an completely different composition too.
She didn't have much choice though. She was going to have to trust the Altean technology for now and once she left and found Coran – because he was alive, they were all alive, they were fine – he could adjust it accordingly. For now it was vital she get Keith into any pod at all.
But…
She glanced back at Keith's limp form and then back at the pod, upright and the base over a foot off the ground.
How did she get him into it?
Keith was the smallest member next to herself so if Pidge was going to be able to manhandle any of them he was her best bet. But he was a complete deadweight right now and her wrist, which gave another pulse at the thought, was in no condition to be grappling with him.
Godamnit, what did she do?
This couldn't be how it ended. They couldn't have gotten this far despite the odds only for Keith to die feet away. That was not how this worked, damnit!
"Think, think, come on Holt," Pidge cast her eyes desperately about the infirmary for inspiration.
A pulley system? No time. Heft him up somehow? She bent down, looping her arms under his armpits, but even that strain was too much on her wrist and she let go with a gasp, only having managed to hover his chest up a couple inches.
Tears stung her eyes at how absolutely useless she was right now when it mattered most. She had learned to live with her small size, acknowledged the short jokes and the fact she was going to forever be headrest for Lance. She knew her limitations and worked around them so they weren't. She excelled at climbing, her small stature could let her sneak easily through vents and narrow passages. She was a smaller target and her shield nearly covered her completely as compared to the rest of her teammates.
But right now she'd have given anything to be Hunk-sized because Keith was going to die because she was too small. That was ridiculous.
She needed someone to help her lift him up. But who? Where? She didn't dare use the intercom system to call for help just in case less than savory individuals showed up instead. She had the utmost faith in her team but…
A shudder shook her frame. Haggar and the Galran commander who she had watched ruthlessly torture Lance during the Kri Za Kri were here. In the castle. Her home. And they had blown into it like it was made of tissue paper, gaping holes on each side.
They would be fighting her family. Trying to kill them. She could not afford to distract them, not if her call for help made them pause and allowed for an opening. Not if they were fighting for their own lives.
No. She had to figure this out and then she had to go help them. Somehow. Her right hand clenched at her side. It still worked. She could still wield her bayard.
She was going to fight and she was going to make them bleed.
But before that she had to help Keith. And that led her right back to where she started.
A broken sob worked its way out of her throat as nothing still came to mind. She was the only one here and–
Her breath caught.
She wasn't the only one in this room. Keith was too. And if she could just wake him, get him to somehow stand past the absolute agony he would be in, he could get himself into the pod.
Pidge flew over to the medical cabinet that Coran kept fully stocked with things she had no idea as to their purpose. But she did know what the adrenaline shots looked like. She had found the medical emergency kit onboard Green and had taken the entire thing apart to ask Coran the purpose of each item.
There were bandages, of course, along with what she now knew where the Glornack seeds for pain relief. There were little cubes that when squeezed contained a gel for burns and a temporary adhesive to help clot a wound.
There had also been a long orange colored capsule that upon removing the cap showed a small depressor. Coran had explained, very serious, that it was a type of booster, designed only for emergencies if the heart was fading. It would give a burst of essentially adrenaline – he'd used an Altean term Pidge hadn't quite understood but the concept was the same – and could forcibly awaken and keep the recipient going for about half a varga. Too much though Coran had warned and the heart could stop instead.
He'd actually taken all of the shots out of the Paladins kits until he could properly test them for the correct dosage for humans, remarking that their bodies were frailer and likely did not need as much. He had not yet apparently finished his research as all of the shots were in the cabinet, labeled with Coran's elegant script, but foreign to Pidge's eyes. She didn't have much of a choice though and with shaking hands grabbed one and dashed back to Keith.
Where did she inject it? Epi pens she knew thanks to her mom went into the thigh. Did these work the same? She glanced at the capsule in hand but there was only unknown Altean words looking back.
No time to wonder. She yanked the cap off and positioned the vial against the back of Keith's thigh. Her hand refused to stop trembling as she moved her thumb to the depressor.
What if it was too much? What if she killed Keith right here and now?
Half the dose, she decided. And… and if that didn't work then she'd inject the rest. She just needed him awake – and in so, so much pain, she winced – to get into the pod. Not to fight. God no. And if Keith somehow tried to pull such a stunt…
Well, she would have to stop him.
But first she needed to wake him up.
And wasting no more time she pushed down on the capsule, halting its progress when the depressor had made it halfway down the capsule.
Nothing happened.
"Come on," she pleaded. "Keith, please. Wake up!"
Still nothing.
Did she inject the rest of it? She had to at this rate. What other choice did she have? If Keith didn't wake up then unless someone were to randomly stroll into the infirmary in the next minute it would be too late.
Her thumb shifted to press down once more—
Keith twitched.
Pidge froze.
"Keith?" she breathed.
A high keen of agony that should not ever come from Keith at all sounded and he twitched again. The cry grew louder as he shifted his head, still encased in Pidge's helmet, to the side, shoulders tensing beneath his damaged armor.
Pidge pulled the syringe free but otherwise hovered, heart in her throat, as Keith let out another noise that belonged to a wounded animal and not her friend. He was shuddering now, limbs spasming with the pain and she could make out a tear trekking out from beneath tightly closed eyes.
"Keith," she whispered, gingerly reaching out to place a hand on his upper arm of the undislocated shoulder. It shook beneath her. "Keith, please. W-wake up."
He was shifting, dragging his mangled right leg up towards his body and trying to curl around it, but the movement was stretching his skin, sending rivulets of blood and flesh cracking from the burns, all down his back.
He choked on his next breath, a barely audible whimper escaping tightly sealed lips.
He was in so much pain. She had done this. She'd gotten him hurt. And now she was making him suffer it all again.
But she needed him to wake up. She needed him to get up because if he didn't then all of this was for nothing.
She felt a tear make its way down her own face, stinging trail against her raw cheek, as Keith let out another raw moan, still lost to the pain.
"Oh Keith. I'm so s-sorry."
Her apology wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Keith choked out another sob, muffled behind the helmet.
Her hand squeezed on his shoulder, desperately waiting for his eyes to open, for some sort of clarity to return in the face of such agony.
But Keith just whimpered and spasmed beneath her light hold.
A new plan was needed.
Pidge released his shoulder and shifted her attention to the helmet. It wasn't latched on properly and she was able to dig her right hand beneath it, fingers brushing against Keith's cheek and he shuddered at the touch, eyes fluttering beneath closed lids. She pulled then, somehow shifting it over the blood-stained dark hair, and let it roll away on the floor.
"Keith?" she whispered again, pressing her fingers against his cheek. "K-Keith? Please. I… I need you to wake up."
His lashes fluttered.
"Please. Pl-please. Wake up."
And purple eyes, bright with pain and dulled with confusion opened. But they looked past her, unfocused.
"Shiro," Pidge said on a whim, and he shuddered, gaze drifting back to her. "Lance." A blink. "Hunk and Allura and Coran," she continued. "They need you, Keith. Please. Please wake up."
His lips parted then, and more of a moan than a word he repeated, "Shiro?"
"Yes, Shiro. He needs you to get up. Can you do that?"
Amethyst orbs were tracking to her face and there was a spark of clarity beneath the pain. "Pidge? Wh-what…?" he trailed off as a low keening noise took over instead. Pidge rubbed her fingers against his cheek in the only comfort she could offer.
"Please," she repeated. "Keith, please. I need you to get up. Shiro needs you to get up."
Shiro? Keith repeated the name in his head. Why did Shiro need him to get up? Where was Shiro? What had happened? He couldn't think straight. There was too much pain. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt?
"Keith, please," Pidge begged and her small hand brushed his cheek again. "Pl-please. Get up."
She sounded terrified.
Why was she so scared?
Was he scaring her?
If he got up would that fix it?
He twitched out his legs to do so, but fire raced along his right one and he gasped, choking on his next breath as red and yellow heat and light filled his vision. He scrunched his eyes closed, dully hearing Pidge calling his name above the roaring flames that had settled into his very bones.
But this was not the comforting fire of Red. This hurt.
Why did it hurt?
Something wet his face and he flinched back. But the drop had soothed a small ember and he was able to realize in that moment it had been a tear.
Pidge.
Pidge was crying.
Keith was making Pidge cry.
He had to get up. He had to fix this.
Even though he couldn't recall what this was.
He pushed his legs out again, pressing his feet against the floor, while he tried to brace his hands but his right collapsed beneath him with a new flare of agony. He ignored it, ignored the short scream that might have come from him, and focused instead on his left, palm on the floor and fingers flush.
And he pushed up.
Lightning seemed to strike then, hotter than any fire, all along his back and only sheer will kept him from falling right back down as he got his knees beneath him into some version of a crawling position. His vision swam, white blurring with red and brown and he closed his eyes against it, stomach turning.
Pidge's hand had left his face and he felt her arms encircle his chest from above. She was saying something but he couldn't hear it over the throbbing, pulsing torment that had filled his ears and the crackle of flames and lightning that he swore were waging a battle over his skin.
God, what the fuck had happened?
Why couldn't he remember?
That scared him more than the pain.
The fear though was already fading out, absolute agony taking its place and scattering the little clarity he had.
Pidge's muffled voice continued to say something and he latched onto it, an anchor in this storm of fire.
Up, she was saying. Get up?
Wasn't he already up? Maybe? Apparently not though.
He tried to focus again on his feet, the sensation of his toes digging into the ground telling him he was not actually standing.
Is that what she wanted?
He shifted his left leg, bracing it. His back flared again, white-hot, and he shoved it away. Not now. Now was standing.
Upon moving to his right leg though he felt it buckle beneath him and only Pidge's harsh grip, digging into his shoulders and sending rivulets of pain shooting through his right – and why was she hurting him? Why was she screaming too? For her own breathy wail was overlapping with his– kept him from falling.
He had to get up though. That was important. Somehow.
Keith swayed, balancing most of his weight on his left leg as his right one trembled and threatened to give at even the barest of touches. Pidge was moving then and he felt his left arm being lifted and a small body worming itself beneath it, tucked up against his side.
He leaned gratefully against her support.
She tried moving them, tugging against his arm to make him go forward.
Keith balked as the action made his vision white out, despite the fact his eyes were still closed, and he moaned, giving a barely there shake of his head.
"–ease," her words filtered in. "Please, Keith. For me. For Shiro."
Shiro.
Where was Shiro?
He tried to ask again but the word was a mere breath turned groan as Pidge bodily forced him forward. Her arm was then on his back and the groan turned into a strangled scream as flashes exploded in front of him at the touch.
He stumbled forward to get away–
–and collided with something cold and hard.
Over the sound of his own breathless gasps he could hear Pidge crying, apologies mixed in with her tears. She still hadn't let go though.
"Up," Pidge was saying now, pulling upwards on his arm. "Step up."
Step up? What? Step where?
He swayed, trying to open his eyes and look at what she wanted, but his eyelids felt so heavy. He felt himself start to sink down and even Pidge's hand digging into the white-lightning of his back couldn't summon up the energy to move.
"Up, Keith!" and her tone was less pleading now and more sharp. "Up! Goddamnit Keith, don't you dare! You stubborn asshole, step up!"
Beneath the harsh words though was the stark fear, the kind that made Keith's stomach twist. He clumsily lifted his right foot and felt it strike against the hard object he'd already crashed into.
"That's it, that's it," Pidge coached. "Come on Keith, a little higher. Almost there. Come on."
Her words were starting to fade again, lost to a pounding static. Still, he tried. If it was important to Pidge then it must be important to him too.
His foot slid over the edge of something and he halted, confused. A step?
Pidge was shoving against his back again and a strangled scream tore itself from his throat as pain pain pain overwhelmed everything else.
There was yelling and shouting and crying and he couldn't tell where his ended and Pidge's began.
And then half of it abruptly cut off.
It was jarring enough that his eyes flew open, his own cries dying in confusion and fear as something cold pressed against his face and space squeezed in on him.
He turned his head, seeking Pidge, and there she was, faintly visible through a shimmering glass and the white cloud of his breath.
Glass? Fog?
Cryo-pod.
She'd shoved him up and into a cryo-pod.
That… that made sense. He'd been hurt.
Why had he been hurt?
Why couldn't he remember?
Fire. Pain. Screaming.
Had that been just now? Before?
Explosion. Sound. Protect.
Keith's breathing spiked, the white cloud glowing thicker.
He remembered. He remembered. He remembered he remembered he remembered.
Trap. Shiro. Lance. Haggar.
He had to get to them.
He had to… to...
Cold unlike anything he'd ever felt shot into him, icicles of pain that quelled the red and orange flames but turned them dark and bitter instead. It hurt. It hurt more than it should.
Something was wrong.
"P-Pidge," he moaned, lifting his left hand to press against the glass front. It wavered in his view.
He had to get out. He had to get out.
Ice was filling his veins, so cold it burned.
Out out out out out.
His legs buckled beneath him. Keith saw his hand slide across the glass, smearing a path in the foggy expanse, saw Pidge's eyes widen and his name on her bloodied lips.
And then he saw no more.
xxx
Author's Notes:
And Keith makes a conscious appearance :) Ta da! And he's in a pod, although sounds like something might be a little wrong. Whoops. Guess those schematics weren't so great after all, Pidge.
I'm uploading this from Indy Pop Con so if you're here, come say hello! I'm at table 913 in the artist alley. If you mention any of my fics by name to me get a free Voltron button! Stick around and chat/spaz with me too ;p
As normal, Color will be going on a hiatus during the launch of the new season, which means we will come back in two weeks (this has spanned four new seasons guys. That's crazy xD). However, I wanted to offer the possibility of a chapter to be posted this coming Tuesday (given that this one was shorter than my normal ones and so too is the next one). I leave it up to you guys though; if the response is good for this chapter I will upload the next one in four days on Tuesday as a little bonus inside my normal new season hiatus. Otherwise will upload like normal on June 22 following season six. In any case, please do not post spoilers in the comments. Gracias.
So as always, please do drop a comment below before you skedaddle with your thoughts on the chapter/story. Thanks very much and see you... somewhere in the future :D