Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance remembered the feeling when Blue hit the side of the wormhole.

The whole lion had let out a convulsive shudder and the lighting in the cabin sputtered. Everything was twisting and turning and, dare he say, undulating around him. If it was because they were spiraling out of control or because of the time-space-travel mumbo jumbo that came with wormhole technology, he wasn't sure. His stomach disagreed with it all the same and he soon found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to retch.

He quickly scrunched his eyes shut to block out the whirlpool of colors, clenching his jaw and breathed deep through his nose. Now was not the time to become Hunk!

Fortunately, almost as soon as it began, the shuddering stopped and Lance dared to open his eyes, wary of the way the world still seemed to slowly spin. The viewing screen in front of him was still functioning, even as it flickered and cut-out occasionally. Blinking dumbly at the slowly rotating images he quickly realized he was in some unknown location of space (no shock there really) and directly in front of him was a large, multi-colored planet.

He didn't get the chance to discern more than that because a window popped up shortly after, beeping softly and flashing lights in warning. They were trapped in the planet's gravitational pull and rapidly descending.

“Oh no, no, no, no!” Lance squeaked, pulling on the controls and urging his lion to return back to the safety of space. To his dismay Blue was far from responsive thanks to the previous battering.

His mind raced as one hand few across the dash, pressing buttons in rapid order, before he pulled back hard on the controls once again. There was little Lance could do to stop the inevitable crash but he did his best to make it as controlled as possible as they plowed through the orange colored atmosphere.

He didn't remember the landing.

He must have blacked out though because the next time Lance opened his eyes, all was dark. The soft blue glow that usually filled the cockpit was gone and all the screens were blank. Dimly he was aware of three things. Firstly, he was on his side. Secondly, there was an almost uncomfortable tightness around his chest, digging up under his chest armor and thirdly, he was sporting the universe's most painful headache.

With a groan, Lance shifted in an attempt to sit up only to discover that he was still strapped into his chair. He wasn't on his side. Blue was on hers. That explained the discomfort.

Ignoring the pounding in his head Lance carefully freed himself from the buckles, enjoying the relief of pressure. He then lowered himself over the arm of the seat, landing on the side-now-floor of the cockpit. A wave of dizziness swept over him as soon as his feet touched the ground and he dropped onto his rear, leaning against the wall.

The thunk of his helmet reminded him that he was still wearing it. Hah. Lot of good that did him, if his headache was any indication. With a huff, he reached his hands up to pull it off but stopped short as the niggling feeling he had been having finally became clear. Things were way too quiet. No panicked questions. No jumble of his teammates trying to speak over each other. Just complete and utter silence.

“Shiro?” He called and man, did his voice sound raspy. How long had he been out? Clearing his throat as best as he could he tried again. “Coran? Allura?” He pressed a hand against the side of the helmet, tapping it gently when there was no response. Not even static. Were the comms busted? Or were they just out of range? Neither thought was very comforting.

“Hunk? Pidge?” The silence continued to reign and Lance was quickly becoming desperate, his voice going up in pitch. “Come on. Is anyone there?! Keith! Mullet head! Trainaholic! I know you can hear me!”

He continued to throw insults of varying degrees towards the red paladin in hopes of a response, even adding a few in Spanish for good measure, until he finally ran out of ideas.

Tired, Lance slumped even more against the wall, staring at the floor under him and sighed. He wished he could say that mini tirade had made him feel better but it didn't. Not really.

The first time around, being stuck in space hadn't been as bad as it seemed. Sure, he still got homesick. Who wouldn't? But at least he hadn't been alone. There was Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, Keith. Jumping through that first wormhole, they had made that decision together, and then finding Allura and Coran. It was amazing how quickly they became a team during the short time they've known each other.

And Blue, with her confidence and trust, always a comforting presence in the back of his mind ever since that first flight. Separate but not. It was all gone now. For all he knew the rest of his team was injured, lost just like him somewhere in the vast universe.

This time he was alone. Truly alone and that made his stomach clench painfully.

-------

In the end Lance decided that all he had to do was sit tight, right? Sit tight and wait for Blue to wake up.

Even if she didn't at least Allura would be able to find them. She was the key to finding the Lions, wasn't she? That was what Coran said. Her life-force was tuned into the Lions, thanks to her father and some kind of Altaen-space-magic. What that meant exactly, Lance wasn't sure. But she had been able to locate the Lions the first time around. She could do it again, couldn't she? He really, really, really hoped it hadn't been a one time deal.

He was also concerned about Blue's silence. The constant hum of energy was gone and he didn't know what that meant. Was she injured? Would she be okay after some rest? He wasn't an engineer like Hunk or a tech expert like Pidge, who was always updating and improving the Green Lion with the latest gadgets.

He was Lance, cargo pilot turned fighter by a stroke of luck, and taking care of a giant, metal, mostly sentient lion was way out of his trained skill range.

Would his lion's unresponsiveness affect the princesses ability to find them? Had the Lions been active when they were in hiding? Or were they in some kind of hibernation? Aware of the world but wouldn't react unless their chosen paladin was in range. Was Blue currently either of those?

That was assuming the castle had escaped unscathed through their own wayward tumble through the wormhole. What... what if the ship had been damaged even further?

Ever since Sendak's attack, the stupid haunted-but-not-haunted-except-it-was-totally-haunted castle was far from hundred percent—it tried to kill him more than once thank you very much—and the constant stream of fighting since has done little to help remedy that situation.

What if Allura or Coran were injured? What if any of the other paladins were injured, or worse? Who knew how long it would be until he was discovered. It could be hours, days, weeks even....

Lance groaned. His head hurt. The previous pounding had escalated thanks to his rampant thoughts. Okay, Lance. Chill out. That is more than enough what ifs for one day! He took a deep breath, eyes closed. After a few long ticks he started to feel much calmer. His headache had lessened as well and he let out a breath, relaxing against the cool metal.

One thing was for certain: Sitting here was going to get him no where. Even if things turned out to be fine back at the Castle, there was still the fact that Lance was trapped on an unknown planet for an undetermined length of time.

“Oh Quiznak!” He huffed, frustration blossoming in place of worry. Could they not catch a break? It was almost like the Universe doesn't want to be saved.

Feeling restless and unable to stand the stifling silence of the cockpit any longer, Lance slowly made his way towards the front hatch that was Blue's mouth. With her currently out of commission it was up to him to figure out where they had landed. Once that was determined, he could figure out what to do from there. It took a lot longer than he wanted but eventually the latch gave, the mouth's lion falling open with a hiss, sending him tumbling head over heels to the ground.

The first thing Lance noticed as he stared at the grass under his nose (why was it purple?) was that it was unbearably and impossibly humid. Like wow. Even in the protective suit he was quickly becoming sticky with sweat. Pushing himself onto his knees he pulled off his helmet, being mindful enough to not rattle his brain more than it already was, and gaped at the surroundings.

It was a jungle. Or rather what the alien version of a jungle would look like. Large tree-shaped plants, all varying shades of different colors, stretched high overhead, their wide branches spanning intricate designs and blocking out most of the orange sky. Well, except for the rather giant hole where Blue had crashed through. Weird vines dangled and twisted across the trees while large foliage of every kind covered every inch of the ground. Some kind of weird buzzing or chirping permeated the air in a low thrum of activity.

If you discounted the colors, it was the most earth-looking planet he has seen since Earth and Arus. It was almost surreal.

Hand pressed against Blue's lowered jaw, Lance pulled himself to his feet. He whistled softly as he gave the metal under his hands a comforting pat.

“Looks like we aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

Chapter Text

Lance has no idea how much time has passed since his discovery of the jungle planet but it feels like hours. At least ten! All right, maybe that was exaggerating a tiny bit but the point still stands. It has definitely been one. Maybe two. It was hard to tell, okay?

In an effort to find out, Lance had scrambled and scaled his way to the top of Blue's shoulder, settling himself on the warm, but surprisingly not hot, surface. He then fell back, limbs spread like a starfish, to gaze through the hole they'd created in the canopy. Maybe he could locate what qualified as this planet's sun, or whatever. Anything that could help him tell time.

It was an endeavor that was quickly proving to be fruitless the longer he lay there. As far as he could tell it was just an endless expanse of orange sky, dotted with fluffy looking blotches that he assumed were clouds. Were yellow clouds a thing? In this alien world the answer appears to be: Yes. Yes they were.

With a groan Lance rolls over onto his stomach and pulls himself closer to the edge of Blue's shoulder, head craning over to look at to the ground. Even the shade was as stationary as the trees it came from. 

For some reason he found that mildly irritating.

“Stupid orange sky with your stupid yellow clouds. It is like living in eternal daylight.” He grumbles.

Did this planet rotate at all? Or was it tidal locked? 

He really hoped it was the former; spending days trapped on a planet that didn't have a night and was super hot all the time was not how he wanted to spend his impromptu vacation. 

Lance climbs back to his feet and jumps off Blue, the jets flaring to life on his back as he hops his way back down her front limb. “At least it isn't as hot as it had been.”

The humidity was still there, making his hair stick uncomfortably to his scalp and sweat bead along his forehead. At least his suit was finally kicking in, working hard to regulate his body temperature in this insufferable jungle. Combined with the fact that his headache was all but completely gone now, it was making his situation just a tiny bit more bearable.

Once he was on the ground the paladin retreated back inside his Lion. The air was less humid inside, outside being almost too stifling to even breathe without his helmet. Not to mention he didn't want to stray too far in case she woke up. Or worse.

What if they were attacked? Blue's barrier shield didn't seem to working and Lance knew that, until it did, he was their only line of defense. Besides, what was more safe than a giant, metal lion which could pass as a fortress?

If anything, Lance found it strange that no one had come to investigate the thing that had crash landed on their homely little world. It was something he had spent the first hour fussing about. Something had to live on this planet, right? Some kind of weird alien wild-life that roamed under the canopies and through the ferns.

Not that he wanted to be attacked, mind you. He was a lot of things; Charming, good-looking and an awesome pilot to name a few, but he was not, contrary to popular belief, an idiot. The problem was just that his imagination was free to run wild about whatever was out there and right now he wasn't sure which was worse: Knowing or not knowing.

Lance removed his helmet with a grunt, running a hand back and up through his sweat slicked hair making a fairly decent impression of a porcupine. He then sat down, back against the far wall a little ways away from the opened hatch. Balancing the helmet on one knee, he made a grab for the small knapsack that lay nearby.

He pawed through it for a moment before removing a greenish colored food bar. At least that's what Hunk claimed it was supposed to be. The yellow paladin had been thoughtful enough to make them a care package to carry around in their lions after Sendak's last attack on the Castle.

“You never know when something will happen.” Hunk had said. “And something always happens.”

Lance had joked about it originally, but the idea had been a good one. He just didn't appreciate it until that very moment. Bless Hunk and his genius plans. The man deserved a hug next time they saw each other. And maybe a cake. Definitely a cake. Had Hunk figured out how to make a edible cake yet? Maybe Coran would know, after they described what a cake was to the Altean of course.

As he wondered what kind of flavors they could create, Lance glanced back at the small bag at his side. There wasn't much inside but enough to last for a couple days at least. He really should find some kind of water source and food supply before he got too low.

According to Coran, back in the day the paladins used to carry such supplies with them all the time: Medical kits, rations and the like. All those important things in case they got separated or injured and usually put together by the paladins themselves. But after ten thousand years, the reserves sorely needed to be updated.

Unfortunately it hadn't been a high priority at the time. One of those things that was placed on the check list but never gotten around to. Fixing a giant malfunctioning Castle and learning to work as a team when it came to Voltron took up waaaay more time than you'd believe.

Even though he wasn't feeling all that hungry Lance broke the bar in half, tucking the remaining portion back into the sack before chewing lazily on the rest. Hunk had promised that it had flavor so it was a step up from the sloppy food goo back at the castle. And it did. It was almost... sweet, with a light crunch.

Make that two cakes and score another point for Hunk.

As he ate, staring out at one of the the purplish blue trees directly across from him, Lance found his thoughts roaming back to that final battle.

Everything had happened so fast. Even though Lance had been distracted enough with his own battles, he managed to keep track of snippets from the conversations as it floated over the comms.

By the time Hunk had found Allura, things had gone sideways, and rather than escaping immediately, the duo had gone to help Shiro.

Keith had stopped Zarkon from taking the Black Lion, which Lance had to admit was pretty impressive in its own way, but something happened to Red in the process. Shiro managed to rescue him from Zarkon's clutches just shortly after taking back Black, before they all returned to the castle-ship.

As confident as Lance was, even he had to admit that they had escaped by the skin of their teeth. Or so he had thought anyways. The Galra just had to get one last shot in and ended up doing some serious damage to their wormhole.

Surprisingly enough, the one Lance found himself most worried about was Keith. His lion had taken the biggest beating during the battle before being thrown out of the castle. He really hoped the red pilot had been lucky enough to land with someone else rather than by himself, like Lance had. He had a feeling Keith was going to need all the help he could get. Especially since Lance experienced first hand what kind of damage the broken wormhole was capable of producing and Blue had been working properly going in.

Lance swallowed the last bit of the bar, ignoring the way his throat tightened in the process. After a moment of internal debate Lance leaned his head back, pressing a hand against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

“Come on Blue. I know you are there somewhere.” He said, voice low. “I get it, believe me. You are tired. And I know I said we could use a break once or twice, but this isn't what I had in mind. I was thinking more beach like, y'know? With lots of water and sand....” He trailed off, chewing on the inside of his cheek as his thoughts drifted back to Earth and a certain pizza shack that looked out over the water. He shook his head. “We really need to get back to the others. The sooner, the better, Okay?”

He waited a couple ticks but there was no reply. Not that he expected one; He could hope, right? With a sigh, Lance gave his Lion one final pat before standing. Grabbing his helmet, he shoved it onto his head and headed back outside.

Chapter Text

Lance studied the bush in front of him. It was leafy, a vibrant shade of green and sporting yellow clusters of what figured to be this planet's equivalent of blueberries. He felt his mouth watering slightly at the sight but he resisted the urge to taste them.

Test first, eat later.

So he settled on picking a few of the clusters and packing them away with the rest of his haul. It was quickly becoming as colorful as the planet it came from. With the addition of the yellow berries he also had some kind of red fruit that resembled a peach, a dark blue plant that looked like it could pass as a cousin, or maybe a weird uncle, to lettuce and an orange globe that, if he hadn't known better, he would swear was an actual orange.

He didn't know if half the stuff he collected was edible, but in all it had been a rather fruitful trip. He grinned at his own pun, feeling the most relaxed he's been since his arrival.

After his little chat with Blue, Lance had finally chalked up the nerve to trek farther into the jungle. Something he had been reluctant to do no matter how much he needed to.

For the longest time he had simply stood there, bayard gripped tightly in one hand and rubbing the back of his neck with the other as he stared at the looming jungle. He knew he had to go into it to find the things he needed but there was something about it that made his skin crawl.

It didn't help that his imagination was not improving the longer he stood there. In fact it was getting worse. Jungles back on earth were known to house some rather large animals and since this alien-jungle was determined to show that it knew how to do everything bigger and better than it's earthen counterpart....

Like the trees for example: they were huge. Like really huge. They stood several meters taller than his lion if he had to guess and their width was not something to joke about either. He could barely get his arms more than a quarter ways around one of them! They also felt smooth, almost rubbery under his hands.

He was sorely tempted to start jumping on one to see if it was actually bouncy or not. You know, for the sake of science and all that. If anything it would be a great story to tell Pidge and Hunk and he made a mental note to try it before he left the planet. Maybe he could even take a sample back with him.

But he digressed. At least he could say, to his surprise, the trek had yet to be as scary as he originally thought it'd be. Yeah, the trees were huge but other than the buzzing hum that never seemed to end, the place was rather peaceful. He even found himself humming a little tune as he walked.

It wasn't long before he spotted another bush. This one was red and was sprouting something orb shaped, that was pink and about the size of an apple. Curiosity piqued Lance trotted over to the bush to examine it closer.

Lance had just plucked a couple of the new fruit and was tucking them into his bag when a soft noise made him pause. What was that? Instantly alert, his hand went for his bayard, the weapon transforming as soon as his fingers closed around it.

He stepped away from the bush, gripping the blaster firmly in both hands as he swung around and scanned the area. Lance was positive he had heard a rustling sound followed by something snapping. A stick, maybe? He waited, breath baited and weapon poised but as time slowly ticked by the sound had yet to repeat itself.

Lance gave it a few more ticks before he sighed, shoulders sagging. Great. His good mood was now ruined thanks to some stupid noise and his returned paranoia. Not wanting to linger any longer than he had to he quickly picked a couple more of the pink apples and stood. With his sack nearly full the paladin was eager to return back to his Lion.

Shouldering the bag with one hand, the other still gripping his bayard which had returned to normal, Lance was fixing to leave when there was another soft rustle and something slithered around his ankles.

Before he could react Lance's feet were pulled out from under him and he landed hard on his stomach, the air leaving his chest in a strangled yelp. The next instant he was being dragged through the thick foliage and if his lungs were working properly he would have screamed.

Frantically his free hand scrapped across the ground in search of something to grab. Leaves, twigs and other small kinds of underbrush slipped through his fingers before his hand found purchase on a sturdy, raised tree root. He clung to it for dear life as he jerked to a halt. Whatever had him by his ankles didn't stop though, still strong and insistent, and he felt as if he had become the rope in some cruel rendition of tug-of-war.

Teeth clenching, Lance twisted his torso around just enough to see his feet. His eyes zeroed in on the reddish vine as he raised his blaster, one-handed, and fired repeatedly. The lasers sliced through the vine and it recoiled as if shocked, oozing some kind of pink substance.

Pulling himself closer to the tree root Lance kicked his legs, sitting up long enough to pull what remained of the vine off and clambered to his feet. No sooner had he gotten his bearings though did the vine return, (oh goodie, it brought friends!) striking across the ground towards him.

He stumbled backwards until his back hit one of the soft trees, firing in rapid succession at the encroaching vines before they could get any closer.

With his focus entirely on the ground Lance failed to notice a few of the vines slithering down from above until they wrapped around his left bicep. Eyes wide he suddenly felt himself jerked several feet into the air at a nauseating speed, and this time he did scream.

Seconds later his rapid ascent stopped and the blue paladin found himself swaying slightly by the one arm, still trapped in the vines vice like grip. His heart hammered wildly in his rib-cage as he fought to control his growing panic.

From above came a low gurgling noise and Lance felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. He looked up watching in terrified fascination as a giant flower, wrapped in even larger leaves, slowly unfurled about three meters over his head. The flower itself was pink with red tips on its petals, a striking design that Lance would have found rather charming if it weren't for the gaping hole in its center.

Large spines that reminded him of teeth dotted the opening. The same pink ooze from before dripped from the massive mouth and as he watched, the vine started moving again, pulling him directly towards it. He squeaked, instincts firing on all cylinders as he struggled against the grip, feet kicking uselessly at the air.

Lance had been ready for large man-eating animals but he had not accounted for carnivorous plants!

He looked around frantically before remembering his bayard was still in his hand. Raising it he took aim at the flower, doing his best at holding steady until the plant drew him close enough. A few drops of the pink ooze landed on the armor covering his forearm, the area smoking slightly at the contact. Just a little bit more.....

It wasn't until his arm was within a yard of the slavering mouth did he start shooting directly into it. The plant let out a horrendous squeal, its body giving a spastic quiver. The vine made a snapping like motion, launching Lance higher before it released him completely and the paladin found himself spinning through the air in free-fall.

He all but forgot about the monstrous flower as his stomach shot into his throat. Panicked, and falling fast, Lance reacted by turning his body to the side and brought his left arm in front of him. His shield flared to life as a last-ditch effort at protection and he curled himself as tight as he could behind the barrier.

There was an audible crack as he hit the ground seconds later and a searing pain laced through his forearm and shoulder. He gasped at the shock of it, vision going white. He immediately rolled off the injury and onto his back, the arm cradled against his chest. Air whistled through his teeth as he breathed through the pain, eyes squeezed shut. The shield flickered once briefly before disappearing.

He opened one eye long enough to gaze up at the canopy in search of the flower. It took a moment but he soon spotted it dangling limply—and hopefully dead—exactly where he had left it.

“Holy Crow.” He breathed, eyes closing again. “That was close.”

Lance was never going to look at flowers the same way ever again.

Chapter Text

Lance knows he should get up. That he should be making his way back to Blue, to safety, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Not yet. The adrenaline spike from earlier was fading and the paladin was beginning to feel all the bumps and bruises he had picked up after being dragged through the jungle and then thrown through the air, like a sack of potatoes.

So he laid there for a while longer taking stock of his bodies newest aches and pains and trying not to keep count.

His shoulder and arm were still throbbing painfully, though not as severe as before, and after some careful movements he knew that nothing had been broken. Sprained, maybe, but not broken. Good. With the magical healing pods not being an option and no access to basic medical supplies, Lance didn't know what he was gonna do if something had been broken.

But Sprains. Sprains he could work with. A sprain meant he could still get some use out of the limb as long as he was careful and they took a lot less time to heal than a broken bone. And as long as Lance can still move he can handle the pain. No biggie. He's had far worse over his short stint as a Voltron Paladin anyways.

On the upside, it seemed the armor and shield had absorbed majority of the impact which is what he had been hoping for.

Downside was that Lance is still certain he had heard something crack when he had landed. He just wasn't sure what yet. And until he figured it out, the blue pilot was going to play it safe.

Slowly Lance climbed to his feet making sure to keep his arm where it was cradled across his chest. He then gathered up his bayard from where it had fallen nearby and reattached it to armor. Another look around the small clearing confirmed Lance's other suspicion: Sometime during his plight he had lost his bag of rainbow fruit.

He resisted the urge to beat his head against a nearby tree.

Maybe if he followed his previous path, he'd be able to find it on his way back? Lance did not want to have to go scavenging again so soon.

He's had enough of this jungle with its man-eating plants to last a million years.

It took some time, more than he would have preferred due to his slower than normal pace, but he eventually makes it back to Blue. The universe must have decided to cut him some slack too, because he found the bag, fruit included, along the way. Sure, the contents had been strewn across the ground but having to pick it all up was a small price to pay.

After storing the sack safely inside next to the rest of his care package, Lance flops down wearily at the entrance of the Blue's jaws. Dude, would he love to just take a nap right then and there. The soreness of his body reminds him that he still needs to take care of his injuries. He slumps against the wall anyways, eyes slipping closed.

Five minutes couldn't hurt, right?

------

Five minutes couldn't hurt but several hours did.

The next time Lance woke he was on his side, again, and there was a crick in his neck. No doubt thanks to his helmet which he had neglected to take off before his impromptu nap. The rest of him was sore—except for his shoulder and wrist, both of which felt super stiff and just as painful as before—muscles complaining as he dragged himself upright, fighting a wave of dizziness.

His mouth was also dry and he realized he was super thirsty.

Water. He needed water.

Stumbling to his feet, Lance made his way to the back and dug out a container from one of the bags. He took a small swing, swishing the cool liquid around in his mouth to soothe the dryness and bad taste. He then took a longer drink, downing almost half of it before he felt better.

Stupid planet with its stupid heat.

Thirst sated, Lance settles into a more comfortable position and finally turns his attention to his injured arm. For a moment he just studies the armor. He easily spots mark where the flower's pink goo had fallen; The area was a shade darker than the rest, almost looking as if the goo had tried to melt through it.

Great. Man-eating flowers were bad enough by themselves. Now he had to deal with Man-eating flowers that could very well melt his skin off. Just great. His eyes traveled farther down until they reached his wrist guard. That's when he saw it: The just barely visible fracture that spread like spider-webs across the surface.

His face paled, injuries momentarily forgotten.

Back when they had first received their weapons and uniforms, Allura and Coran had described to them the functionalities of their suits along with the usual list of do's and don'ts. Standard lecture stuff.

Because of that Lance knew the colored area of the guard was some kind of advanced Altaen tech-mini-computer-sensor-thing (He had never bothered to remember the fancier name for it) that could be linked to the Castle of Lion's systems, or any kind of similar technology. Each wrist had their own. From what he had gathered during their long winded explanation—which hadn't been a whole lot—is that it could gather information about their surroundings and relay it back to them. Or more specifically their helmet.

How else would they know if the air on a planet was breathable or not? Not by testing it first hand, no siree!

He also knew the uniforms were capable of syncing, to a certain degree, with their wearers so they could function at the most optimal level for whatever paladin was wearing them, kinda like their Bayards. The picture perfect definition of the saying: One size fits all. Supposedly this function is also what allows them to trigger their shields by simply willing it.

Lance didn't fully understand but it was pretty cool regardless.

Your usual standard arsenal of Altaen-tech-space-magic. Yup.

Which lead him back to the issue on hand; The crack.

He was both surprised and worried. The suits were built to be sturdy and could withstand quite a bit of damage. As much as he liked to crack jokes, lasers were pretty powerful and not to be underestimated. And the suit had to match that kind of power and then some. To have it crack after a simple fall... had he fallen a lot farther than he had thought? The notion made him squeamish, panic spiking. What if he hadn't activated the shield in time? He could've been a Lance pancake!

Ignoring the pain it caused, Lance curled his hand into a fist and focused on his shield. Almost instantly it appeared, wavering slightly before solidifying into its usual shape. He released the breath he had been holding.

It works. It worked. You didn't become a pancake or plant food, Lance told himself, taking a deep breath and releasing it.

Easing his grip, he canceled the shield and started to remove the sleeve of his armor, piece by piece. Even without touching his black under-suit he could see his wrist was swollen. He grimaced and rolled it up to his elbow anyways, biting his lip at the pain.

He blanched even farther at the sight of his skin.

His normally perfect, freckled, dark complexion was mottled with dark red and purple bruises. The stiffness was still there too. Lance was barely able to bend it properly and when he did, he cried out at the sharp stab of pain. Holy crow! It hadn't hurt nearly this bad earlier!

“Ow ow ow ow ow,” He groans, body curling protectively over the limb. Where was ice when you needed it?!

Not on this sweltering jungle planet that was for sure.

Looking around Lance settles on the next best thing: the water from earlier and pours a little bit over his wrist. The chill helps somewhat and he whistles through his teeth.

Other than keeping it elevated Lance knew there wasn't much else he could do. So he settles back again, making sure to keep his wrist up against his chest, the water container pressed against it as an imitation ice-pack, and tries not to think about the tight knot that has settled in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter Text

Lance stood at the base of the tree, eyeing the vines that snaked across it. Since the swelling in his wrist has gone down to a reasonable size, the next step was a splint.

He had already went searching the underbrush for suitable sticks. Despite their rubbery smooth texture they weren't all that different from the stuff he knew back on earth. He also may or may not have thrown one to the ground to see if it'd bounce. (It didn't much to his disappointment. So much for that theory.)

All Lance needed now was something to tie them together. The pilot was wary though. He had been tricked once already by the seemingly innocent looking jungle and like crow was it going to happen again.

“Don't think I'm not onto you.” He said, pointing a finger accusingly at a vine before getting to work.

Lance still was surprised that the silly bush he had collected those apples from had been a trap. They were the bait to lure in the pray and he had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker, like some space traveling rookie. Never mind that he was a space traveling rookie. Details!

It isn't like this jungle had come with a brochure guide for visitors.

“Come one, come all to the Rainbow Planet where the sun never sets, the trees are made of- unnngf- rubber and if the heat doesn't kill you, the Carnivorous plants will.” He intoned rather flippantly, tugging on the stubborn vine until it came free. He glared at it before tossing it down next to his sticks and reached for another.

Once Lance deemed he had enough of both he went to work crafting the makeshift splint. It took some creative maneuvering, bending and twisting since he was working mostly one handed, but the paladin somehow managed and he sat back to observe his handiwork.

Lance already knew that arts and crafts were not his strong point but this was... Well. It is a good thing appearance didn't matter when it came to survival.

He had been sorely tempted to put the armor sleeve and wrist guard back on before the splint. Extra protection was good and all but he doubted it would help in the long run. It wasn't as if he could ice the injury through the armor and removing it repeatedly would have been such a hassle. More effort than it was worth.

With little else to do Lance spent the next portion of his time using his remaining scanner to go over the rainbow fruit. The orange-but-not-orange, weird uncle lettuce and the yellow blueberries all registered as good with a happy bleep. The wanna-be peaches and pink apples as bad.

“Well, three out of five isn't bad.” Lance mused, rolling a yellow berry between his fingers. He popped it into his mouth, face suddenly pinching at the surprisingly strong sour bite, and almost spat it back out. Lance forced himself to swallow, sticking his tongue out instead. “Gross!”

He made a grab for his water, quickly rinsing the worst of the bitterness from his mouth. He then stared at the pouch for a long moment afterwards. Speaking of water... As it is he was having to spend a portion of his drinking reserves on combating his swelling wrist. His small stock was not going to last as long as he originally had hoped. That means he should find some more, right? Was there water around here? He hoped so. On top of extra drinking water, a dunking in a refreshingly cool lake sounded like it'd be a blessing right now.

Lance had not seen any on his last trek through the trees but then again he had been more focused on food than drink. As he shifts through his memories to see if he saw anything water related Lance absently stuffs another berry in his mouth, instantly regretting it as the sour taste assaulted his taste-buds once more. Ugh!

“I can't go on like this.” He moans, rolling onto his back, stretching out on the metal beneath him.

It has only been what? Lance blinks. He- he has no idea how long it has been. He had honestly lost count after the first three hours and who knows how long he slept for. Another three? Maybe? It had been light out when he had fallen asleep and was still light out when he had woken up. Chances were that it hasn't even been half a day and he is already feeling like he is going to lose his cool.

Yeah, landing on a strange planet had been rather interesting at first. Unfortunately it quickly started to lose its charm in more ways than one. Could he really survive a couple days, or weeks here?

The thought was not an appealing one. He throws an arm over his eyes with another groan.

“Think happy thoughts!” He mutters. “Happy thoughts. Garlic Knots. Surfing. Pretty ladies. Cute Puppies.” Despite his best efforts, it was unsurprising when they drifted back to his teammates. He wondered how they were fairing. Better than him he hoped.

The Princess and Coran were probably neck deep in whatever repairs had to be made to the castle, working hard to bring everyone back home. He would bet even the Mice were doing their fair share of work. All hands on deck!

And Pidge… Pidge was probably doing her best to repair her own lion. He had no doubts that she would be the one to get it up and running the fastest.

“Pidge?” Lance called. His helmet lay on the ground nearby, having removed it to help with the crick in his neck earlier.

Silence.

The blue paladin tried not to let that bug him too much. Even if the comms did work, Pidge was probably nose deep in the workings of her lion and not listening. A mental image of the short paladin, covered in wires and glasses half-way down her nose as she popped out of one of Green's many crevices, made his lips twitch up in a smile.

His thoughts drifted to Hunk. The next one who could get his Lion working in quick order. He knew Hunk didn't spend nearly a half as much time as Pidge did tinkering with his Lion. His best friend had almost seemed offended by the idea of roaming through her inner workings if she didn't require the attention. For starters he thought it was impolite, even stressing the point that the Lions were, to an extent, sentient and thus deserve their own level of privacy.

“If there is ever a time for a breach of privacy, now would be it Hunk.” He tossed, his previous smile taking an amused edge.

Shiro came next and the blue pilot sobered again, amusement fading. Lance was eager to get back to everyone but Shiro... Lance figures the black paladin must be super stressed after everything. It is his second time losing his team to a situation that was well out of his control. He couldn't even begin to imagine how the normally calm and collected pilot was handling it. Lance had always looked up to and respected Shiro, even back before the disappearance of the Kerberos Mission. He hadn't lied before when he called the man his hero.

“Shiro. You should totally stop blaming yourself for this situation. It isn't your fault, dude. No one blames you for this.”

Lance was finding that talking to the other pilots was rather calming. Even if they couldn't hear him. In fact, he was glad that they couldn't hear him. Lance didn't care to get sentimental in front of others if he could help it.

And Keith.... Lance's brow furrowed. What could he say to the red paladin? They had a tendency to argue more often than not. Baring his competitive streak, there was just something about the red pilot that rubbed him the wrong way even though it was clear Keith wasn't doing it on purpose. Well, not all the time at least. He had come to realize that the more they formed Voltron.

“Keith you best not have kicked the bucket, you hear me? We still have a score to settle and there is no backing out until we do!” Lance declared loudly and if he could fold his arms, he would have.

Having said his piece Lance shifts his body into a more comfortable position. The silence starts to stretch the longer he lays there and soon the blue paladin begins to feel sleepy again. The warmth of the heat isn't doing him any favors in that regard and, slowly, his eyes droop shut.

In the darkness he easily pictures a familiar beach, crystal waters lapping at the shore. The warmth of the sun beating down on him as he stretches out on the blanket, wiggling his toes into the sand just beyond. He can hear the laughter of his family nearby.

Lance starts to doze relaxing fully to the memory. However, before he has the chance to succumb completely to sleep, there is a tickle in the back of his mind. His brow furrows at it. It was comfortingly familiar and soon it nudges at his consciousness. He shoos it away sleepily; Sleep now. Play later. The tingle seems to pause before becoming more insistent and it almost feels like a purr.

A.... purr?

Lance's eyes snap open and he shoots upright, all traces of sleep gone.

“Blue?!”

Chapter Text

Lance narrowly evades tripping over his feet as he scrambles towards the abandoned cockpit. The presence in the back of his thoughts is still there, faint but there. It felt... exhausted. As if maintaining the contact was all Blue was capable of. Lance skidded a corner, just barely avoiding hitting his bad wrist as he came to a halt at the entrance. It was still dark but that didn't deter the paladin one bit.

“Blue!?” He called. No response. Lance quickly side-steps the pilot chair that sticks out into the middle of the room and picks his way to the consoles at the front. He runs his free hand over the closest one. “Buddy, if you can hear me tell me what to do. Is there anything I can do to help? Blue?”

He knew the basics of a ship thanks to his classes at the Galaxy Garrison and flight school but this lion was way more technically advanced that those back home. It was the main reason he hadn't wanted to touch anything in fear of screwing it up farther. Not only that, but the lions required very little maintenance. They were more than capable of repairing themselves if given the time. Still, there has to be something Lance can do to help speed up the process. Now that Blue was starting to rouse, maybe, just maybe, she can give him a starting point.

Lance closes his eyes seeking that tingle in the back of his thoughts. Once found he slowly brushes against it with a comforting touch; Similar to how he would pet one of the stray cats he'd occasionally help Hunk sneak food for back at the Garrison. Lions were just giant cats after all, weren't they? He repeated the gesture a second and then a third time. He was rewarded when the presence grew stronger, responding positively to his ministrations.

“Attagirl.” He murmurs encouragingly. “I've missed you!”

There was a barely palpable hum in the machinery under his fingers and Lance grins, letting out a breathy laugh as he presses his forehead against the back of his hand. Nope. He is not going to cry. A sniffle does escape him however, the traitor.

A moment later there was stream of ideas and images flooding his mind, the knowledge surfacing almost like a forgotten memory. It lasted only a few ticks before it stopped and Blue's presence dwindled back into nothingness. Lance didn't panic this time though. His Lion had finally woken up and things could only improve from here. The blue pilot was brimming with confidence as he stepped back, face still split with a grin, and rapped his knuckles gently on the console.

“You can count on me, buddy.”

With a new goal in mind, Lance spends the rest of the day on the first set of what-was-likely-to-be-many repairs, only stopping to snack on a ration bar / piece of fruit or take a sip of water. It was slow work thanks to his injury, and while he managed to avoid using his wrist for the majority of the job, there were still moments he had to have both hands.

He told himself that the pain is worth it.

Blue's presence appears occasionally during the process, but for the majority of it the Lion slept. Or whatever she did while silent. Recharging? Conserving energy?

Lance didn't mind. She deserved the break way more than he did. So he filled the silence himself, mouth flapping away about everything and anything he could think of. For the most part he regaled his lion with stories about Earth and his family. Like that time he and his siblings once sneaked a dog into the house after their parents had told them no.

“I don't know why there was a bowl of flour there but there was. And it got everywhere! Mom was so furious!” Lance laughed, the feeling of nostalgia growing in his chest. “And the best part? After everything she still let us keep him, but only after we cleaned the kitchen until it shined!”

Lance didn't notice the hours as they slipped by. Or, well. Almost didn't notice. It was kind of hard to ignore the way his body blossomed with new aches, often stacking on top of old ones, from being squished into areas that weren't really meant for his tall and lanky form. At least these were a good kind of ache. Ones that rang of accomplishment.

He shimmies out from under the console he had been rooting around in, securing the panel back over it with a firm pat. He then stood, stretching with a sigh and picked at his splint. It felt super sweaty and itchy. Like really itchy. The swelling was returning too. He should ease it soon before the muscles stiffened again but there was something he wanted to check on first.

Lance suppressed a yawn and wiggled a finger under one of the vines to scratch a particularly stubborn itch as he squinted at the top of the dashboard.

“Well, here goes nothing.” He muttered, keying in a sequence on the central console.

When nothing happened a small dose of panic fluttered in his gut. Quiznak! Did he mess up somewhere? Lance knew he had followed Blue's directions to the letter. Or as best as he could have given the circumstances. His Lion hadn't stopped him at any point during his work. Oh man. What if had he actually made things worse instead of better?

Before his panic could run away with him the console suddenly flared to life, filling the chamber with a soft blue glow. Lance found himself grinning at the sight, tension easing in relief.

“Aww yeah!” He crowed and fist-pumped at the air.

There was a pleased hum in return.

----

Between being tired and spending hours burrowed in the shadows of his Lion's machinery, Lance almost doesn't notice the change in his surroundings as he makes his way back to his supplies. He did note that it was much cooler than before, a faint breeze tickling the side of his face as he exited the hallway.

It wasn't until a little later as he fumbled around in the darkness for a water container that it finally dawned on him that things were too dark. Huh. Had he closed the hatch and forgot? He snorted, immediately waving the thought away. Impossible. It was a giant metal jaw. It would be impossible to lift it by himself and Blue most definitely wouldn't have done it. She was still too weak.

Lance squints towards the exit. There was no glaring stream of sunlight that he had grown accustomed to but rather a soft, luminescent glow.

Suspicious, he approaches the opening with an air caution but what he sees makes him gape instead. Night had finally made its appearance and Lance couldn't believe his eyes. Not only was it a rainbow jungle during the day, but it was also a rainbow jungle at night. Literally!

He reaches his good hand up to rub at his face. He wasn't seeing things, was he? Lance peeked through his fingers but when the jungle remained unchanged he accepted the fact that he wasn't imaging it and gave an impressed whistle. The pilot hopped down onto the grass, exhaustion forgotten as he turned in small circles in an attempt to see everything.

The sky was a dark shade of bluish-purple instead of it's blaring orange and he could see glimpses of the stars through the canopy. What caught his attention though were the plants themselves. Everything, from the trees to the thick foliage, was emitting some kind of soft, vibrant, glow a few shades lighter than their normal color.

The soft buzzing noise that was active during the day had also increased tenfold, sending a shiver down his spine. He could swear the sound was coming from inside him rather than vibrating through him.

After the first couple circles, Lance found himself wishing he had a camera. He needed a camera. Why didn't he have a camera? Alteans must have their own kind of camera shouldn't they? Being the technologically advanced race that they were. He has to ask Allura when he gets back to the Castle.

A flicker of color from his injured wrist drew Lance's attention away from the scenery, along with his musings about what an Altean camera would look like. Holding left arm out in front of him Lance's eyes widen in wonder. His splint was glowing much like his surroundings. Not as strongly of course but enough that it cast faint purple and yellow highlights across his bruised skin. It actually looked kind of cool.

“Dude.” He breathed. “Okay. I take back everything I said about you before, Jungle. Okay, almost everything. I still haven't forgiven you for the almost eating me part.”

And no. He was never going to let that go.

Chapter Text

Lance didn't sleep much during the night. Tired or not, sleep doesn't come easy when you are restless and unable to shut your brain off. The same thing happened the first night back at the Castle and he ended up borrowing Pidge's headphones. Lance didn't have that luxury here.

In the end he spent a large portion of the night keeping watch, simply staring out at the jungle—sometimes in awe and sometimes wary—and trying not to fidget at every random noise until sleep finally claimed him.

The following morning found Lance up bright and early, and back in the cockpit typing away at one of the consoles.

The first thing he had done upon his arrival was run a diagnostic on his Lion to see what yesterday's repairs had restored. He was thrilled to see that most of his hard work had paid off; the mechanical cat's systems were running at roughly forty-ish percent. Not exactly great and there was still plenty of work to be done. Blue was still unable to move so she was still resting on her side, but it was a huge improvement over before.

His eyes roved over the screen in front of him. On the right side of the display was a small window flashing a tiny dark blue dot. It was his Lion's tracker which was, miraculously, still working. Now if anyone was nearby they'd actually be able to find him.

On the left side was a running scan of the jungle surrounding the crash site. Searching for... well, anything really. Water was his main focus right now but he was also keeping an eye out for any signs of civilization. He was still debating on the existence of animals since he has yet to see any kind of wildlife. Did this planet even have any?

Could an ecosystem function solely on plants?

Some place else maybe, but he doubted it for here. Call it a hunch but something told him that the man-eating plant from before was not aiming to feast on its own kind.

“And what is up with that weird buzzing from last night?” Lance mutters and swipes a finger across the screen, watching the data roll pass. The first time he had heard it he had assumed it was from some unseen insects or whatever. Could the plants themselves be the source?

He mulled over that in his head for a moment before giving it a shake. Thoughts concerning glowing weird jungle vegetation could wait until later when he wasn't tired.

Leaving the scan to run on its own Lance turned his attention back to the communication system. He had tinkered with it a little bit earlier. Long enough that he knew they working again since he heard static rather than an endless silence.

He adjusts the helmet on his head and taps at a couple buttons on the glowing keypad in front of him, “Test test. Helllooooo. Anybody there?”

They may have been functional but they still weren't picking up anything. Not even some semblance of alien chatter.

His face scrunches up in annoyance as he stares at the screen, watching the lines bob and weave their way across it. With a sigh he settles back and pulls off his helmet to scratch at the back of his head. The fact he hadn't slept well was not helping his mounting irritation.

Part of him almost wants to throw the helmet to the floor. While the motion would have been satisfying to his current mood the last thing he needed was a busted helmet. Sure, he wasn't sitting that far off the ground so it probably wouldn't break but was the risk worth the momentary satisfaction?

Lance looks down in false consideration, mentally calculating the distance between him and the floor.

The blue pilot was currently sitting on the side of his still overturned Pilot chair, his legs swinging slowly in the open expanse below. Probably not his smartest move given his wrist and the fact that the chair itself had no arm rests to speak of, so he was balancing on the narrow width of the cushion itself.

Lean to far to any side and it is bye-bye Lance! Not that it bothered him too much. He already knows he has a great sense of balance.

His questionable seating arrangement aside Lance ultimately concedes that no, it wasn't worth it and settles the helmet in his lap. He rubs at his eyes with another small sigh that degrades into a yawn, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a couple deep breaths to relax before turning his focus back to the wobbly lines and presses a few more buttons, trying to widen the range.

After several long minutes with still nothing, Lance sighs again and sits back resting his hands on his knees. Seems he was to be forever stuck waiting and his lips twitched up in a small humorless smile.

It is a good thing he is fine with waiting; when it comes to something important anyways. Good things came with time didn't they? And believe it or not but Lance could be the king of patience when it mattered. Had to be when you grew up as the youngest child of a large, and rather extensive, family.

Yeah. Until Blue was up on four legs and he could actively start his own search for the others, Lance could wait.

A few hours later found Lance standing outside next to his Lion.

While repairs still needed to be done Lance couldn't neglect his own self-care either. Something his Lion seemed to be a firm believer in. Apparently Blue had picked up on his earlier mood and suggested that he should rest until the scan was complete. The plan had been a good one and Lance was feeling slightly more awake, and far less irritated than before, thanks to the nap.

But then She started insisting that the repairs could wait until he had refilled his water supply. That was what the scan had been for, right?

Despite his argument that her repairs were more important and that he still had enough water for the rest of the day, Blue continued to refuse to tell him what he had to do next. Even going as far as ignoring him—can you believe that!?—until Lance threw his hands into the air in defeat saying: “Okay. Fine. You win!”

Stubborn Cat. A sentiment that was mirrored by his Lion: Stubborn Pilot.

It had been a surreal moment for Lance; his first real argument with his Lion and all because they were concerned over each other. It was something he found himself laughing about once all was said and done, propping himself against Blue's giant muzzle as he chortled at the sheer absurdity.

“We are such idiots.” He breathed after he managed to bring most of his giggling under control.

Blue seemed to share in his amusement; Nothing that so much resembled a laugh but the Lion did project a thought that expressed her agreement.

Lance ignored the way his mouth twitched up at the corners. Instead he gave his bag of supplies one final look over. “Food, check. Water containers, check.” He held out his right hand and his bayard appeared in his grasp. “Weapon, check.”

With a nod he looped the strap of his pack over his shoulders so it rested opposite his hip. He raised his good wrist and swiped a finger across the guard. A small holo-screen appeared displaying the map his earlier scan had created. There were three markers on it; two were him and Blue. The third had registered as a water source to the sensors. Or should he call it liquid source? He couldn't even be sure if water was actually there.

It wasn't by any means close to their location either. A few hours walk at least and Lance sighed, turning to look at Blue.

“I'll be back soon.” He said, giving her a solid pat.

There was a small encouraging hum under his fingers—assuring him she would be fine until his return—and Lance smiled affectionately in thanks. He moved away from her side and some of the tightness in his chest eased as Blue's barrier slid in place around her. That was another thing that had been restored and he felt better knowing that she was once more protected from outside sources.

After one more long look Lance turned away from Blue.

He studied the map instead and walked in a few small circles until he was positive he was facing the correct direction. He gave the screen another tap and it disappeared. Dropping his hands to clutch at the strap of his bag in a firm grip, he started into the trees and started humming softly.

“Look for the bare necessities. The simple bare necessities. Forget about your worries and your strife...”

Chapter Text

Lance shouldn't be surprised by this point, he really shouldn't.

After a long trek that consisted of a lot of hacking through underbrush and climbing up small inclines, he finally, finally, found himself standing at the edge of a decent sized lake. He stopped at the edge of the trees, eyes wide and panting softly as he worked to catch his breath.

There was a cascading waterfall tumbling down the rock-face across from him and his eyes followed it, traveling over the surface of the lake, watching the water meander off in the form of a stream into the lush, rainbow colored growth.

It was a perfectly picturesque view all things considered. Similar to the ones back on earth, the lake was mostly clear and what he could see of the bottom was a mix of silt and stone.

There was only one small difference: The water was orange.

Lance didn't know how to feel about that.

He didn't hate the color or anything. It was a good color. A warm color. It reminded him of ghost stories across a campfire and hanging out on the beach during a sunset. Orange juice was delicious! Not to mention the odd color complimented the view quite nicely.

It was just... weird.

It isn't blue like earth. His mind supplied unhelpfully and Lance shook his head to clear it. He pushes away from the tree he was leaning against and crosses the last couple meters to the shoreline.

He sets his bag down by a large boulder and crouches close to the water's edge. He licks at his lips. The water looked so inviting that Lance had to fight the urge to just throw himself into its sparkling depths. His injured wrist gave a twinge of pain and Lance unclenches his fists, flattening them out on his thighs.

While he trusted his Lion's information there was the fact that her systems were only running at less than half power. Because of that they hadn't gleaned more than just two simple facts:

• One: Where it was located.

• Two: It was a liquid that more or less fit the general guidelines of something drinkable.

“So, not very helpful at all.” He concluded with a sigh, wiping the sweat from around his mouth with a hand. Opening the holo-screen from earlier Lance began a more thorough close up scan of the water.

In the mean time he ran by what he knew of water survival as he watched a stray leaf drift near the toes of his boots before swirling away with the current. That was a start. The water wasn't standing thanks to the waterfall and the small stream. It was also clear and there were no signs of algae lurking on the surface. That was another plus, right?

Maaaan, he hoped so. Lance hadn't seen anything that could be used for water purification in his bag. Probably wouldn't have recognized it either if there was so he settles down crossed-legged on the rocky shore to wait. Fingers drum against his knee guard and his forehead creases as he stares at the scan, silently willing it to finish faster.

After a few ticks something shimmered under the surface a few feet out from his position. He blinked, eyes turning away from the screen and he leaned closer, squinting. What was that? A trick of the light? The water shimmers again and Lance fell back, startled, as something long and slender leapt out directly across from him. He caught a flash of light reflecting off of bright scales before whatever it was disappeared back under the surface with a small plop.

Slowly it dawned on Lance.

“Fish! This planet has fish!” He exclaimed, jumping to his feet in excitement.

His stomach seemed to approve of this discovery as it gave a small rumble. Fish meant wildlife. Wildlife meant not only food but meat in particular. It was then that Lance realized he hadn't had anything meat oriented since they left earth. The castle-ship practically lived off of food goo—which Coran always boasted as great and full of healthy nutrients despite the questionable flavor—except for the moments when Hunk whips something up thanks to the ingredients he picked up back on Arus. But even then it was mostly vegetation and fruit like stuff.

His stomach rumbled again and Lance gave it a pat, his mind already spinning up ideas and plans on how to score, preferably more than one of those fish.

“Me too, buddy. Don't worry. You'll get some fish. No disgusting sour berries for us tonight!”

While the prospect of fish was still tickling his thoughts, as well as his stomach, Lance knew that it could wait for the time being.

After another fifteen-ish or so doboshes of watching the water for anymore signs of those scaly soon-to-be-dinner beauties, the scan was complete. With the confirmation that the water was safe for drinking as well as bathing, Lance leans forward cupping his good hand into the lake and eagerly drinks a couple small handfuls. It was cool and cold with a slightly odd taste he couldn't place. Not that it mattered. What mattered was that it was just as refreshing as he hoped.

Pulling off his helmet he dumps a couple more handfuls over his head, rubbing vigorously at his short hair and shivering as the water runs down his face and neck.

Shaking his hair free of excess Lance sits back and starts divesting himself of his uniform, tossing the armor pieces into a small pile by his bag along with the remains of his splint. Before his black suit even has a chance to completely settle on top of the pile Lance is running into the lake.

"Holy Cheese!!” He yelps loudly as the chilly water splashes up around his calves and thighs.

He doesn't stop though; not until he is fully immersed up to his shoulders and neck. He stands there for a moment, relishing in the sensation, before taking a deep breath. Plugging his nose with one hand Lance disappears under the surface, shooting up seconds later with another shout and drags a hand over his face and hair.

Wow, was it cold!! It was also amazing. Especially after all the insane sweating he's done in this crazy humidity. His body heat regulating battle suit was a blessing itself but it would never beat good old water.

It took a few more dunks before Lance felt even remotely clean but once satisfied he settles onto his back and just floats on the surface, his one arm and feet treading the water slowly. He knows he shouldn't stay in too long despite how wonderful it felt. The threat of a sunburn was entirely possible; What he wouldn't give for some sunscreen!

For the time being though he stares up at the canopy above, the usual thrum nothing more than background noise now that he was used to it.

“I suppose I should stop calling you Rainbow Jungle, huh?” He asks, with a small thoughtful hum.

The thought had struck him out of nowhere but if this planet had no civilization than it definitely didn't have a name. And there was no way Lance was going to pass up the chance to name a planet. He just had to think of a really good one! None of those silly names that consist of random numbers and letters like RB-019 or RA1N80W. Although even he had to admit that last one was good.... like really good. He groaned. Quiznak.

“New plan. You'll be called RA1N-80W but I'll give you something pretty too, okay?”

Lance's eyes flit over the scenery around him as he thumbs through suitable names and words in his mind before one finally stuck out. One he was sure his young niece would enjoy.

“Iridessa.”

Chapter Text

Lance sat crouched on a rocky out cropping that stretched out low over one of the deeper, but still shallow areas of the lake, almost like a nature made dock. In his good hand was a spear made from a narrow but sturdy stick and the sharpest rock he could find tied to the end.

After his swim Lance had taken the time to dry before redressing in his suit and armor. He also used that time to devise a plan on how to catch the fish that had taunted him earlier. His first thought had been a fishing pole; there were plenty of vines and sticks around that he could easily make one. In fact he did make one before realizing that he didn't have any hooks. Or bait....

Hmm.

That realization put a bit of a hitch in his plan. He didn't doubt that there was some kind of questionable wormy bait somewhere in the dirt. It was the lack of hooks was the difficult part and one Lance really did not want to deal with at the moment, having no reasonable way to make one. So until he could find either of those Lance settled for the next best thing: A Spear.

Ignoring the way the sunlight warmed his upper back even through his armor Lance peered slowly over the side of the ledge and into water, being careful not to let his shadow show too much. Much like the rest of the lake, the surface here is crystal clear and he can see to the bottom. While it gave him a clear view of the fish, it also meant the fish could just as easily see him.

“Here fishy fishy.” His calls voice a whisper, afraid of speaking loudly or else he'll scare them away. “Here fishy fishy.”

Lance didn't have to wait long before one of those glittering beauties swam out from under the rocks and into the open. He bites his lip, breath stilling in anticipation. A little closer... There! As the fish looped into range the tip of the spear disappeared into the water with a small splash.

The shot was a miss as the fish darted back under the rocks and Lance raised the weapon from the water, frowning slightly but undeterred as he settled back to wait again.

When the fish reappeared Lance stabbed again, and again the fish avoided the attack. After the third miss Lance was beginning to have the suspicion that the fish was toying with him. He would even bet his favorite face cream that it has been the exact same one every time too.

Well, if that is how it wants to do things than fine. Lance will be ready for it this time.

When the fish made its fourth appearance Lance didn't strike, not immediately. Instead he waited, arm poised and ready, watching as it swam in small figure eights before coming to a stop. Only when he deemed the time was right did he lunge forward, throwing his upper body into the movement.

It wasn't until his hand almost touched the water that Lance realized his mistake and that his momentum wasn't stopping. He releases the spear, throwing out his arms as he scrambles to keep his balance but it is all for naught. He screeches loudly, a sound that is soon muffled by the water, as he falls off the rock ledge and lands face first into the lake!

He flounders for a moment, sputtering as the water rushes up his nose and into his mouth before he manages to roll over and get his feet back under him. He then shoots from the surface, which only reached his hips, hacking and spitting up the portion he had inhaled.

“K-haah. Bleh.” He wheezes, hands flying to his face. He wipes the water from his eyes then rubs an arm under his nose as he coughs again. Stupid fish. It purposely made him fall into the water! The sneaky little devil had settled just out of his reach without him realizing it.

Lance shakes his head with a huff, the excess water flying from his hair like that of a wet dog.

“Round two!” He grunts, scooping the spear from where it floated and splashes back to the shore. He was going to get a fish one way or another.

And catch one he did.

Sure. It was only one fish and not the devil that eluded him earlier (Something that Lance found himself secretly glad about) but that was better than nothing right? Right!

Carefully he laid it out on a giant purple leaf he had scrounged up and washed off, and took a moment to study it. The fish kind of resembled freshwater trout in a round about way. It was a big fish, as long as his arm—from shoulder to fingertips—and had a clear silver-white sheen. The sparkly scales reflected the light, casting their own special collage of rainbow colors across their body depending on what angle they were held.

It was rather fun to look at.

With a hum Lance takes a drink from one of the newly filled water pouches and scratches at his chin, turning away from his catch to look over the selection of wood and rocks he had gathered earlier while building his spear.

Lance had realized he had overlooked one very important thing while planning his fish feast earlier: How was he going to cook them? Yeah, he had found the wood and stuff for kindling easily enough. But how was he going to light it? If only he had some kind of space lighter or a box of matches....

At least the sharp rock he was using as the tip of his spear would be useful as he could gut the fish with it. Sitting back, he pulled the weapon into his lap and started to untie the rock from the stick. It wasn't as large as the blade Keith carried around with him but bigger than a pocket knife. Definitely bigger than those little exact-o-blades that Hunk occasionally carried, along with a bunch of other little knickknacks, in his side pouches.

He moved over to one of the large flat stones that lay scattered around and started to drag the makeshift knife along top in an attempt to sharpen it further.

Lance had never really felt the need to carry a blade. He wasn't paranoid like Keith. Nor was he Hunk who always tried to be prepared. Heck, there was even the possibility that Pidge had something for cutting in that backpack she'd brought from earth. Lance didn't think Shiro carried a blade. Maybe he used to but now he didn't need to thanks to his new arm.

Lance's brow furrows at that thought and he removes his glove so he can drag his thumb over the edge of the blade.

Shiro's arm was still a touchy subject for Team Voltron. It was easy to see that Shiro didn't like speaking about the year he had spent with the Galra and not just because he couldn't remember the majority of it. How many times has Lance seen him, usually by accident, looking serious and pensive as he stared at the limb? It was the same expression he'd worn when he had been keeping watch over Sendak....

It didn't help either that black paladin acted fine whenever the subject was brought up, easily deflecting the conversation back to the questioner or onto another subject entirely.

It could be irritating sometimes but Lance didn't—wouldn't pry. His mouth may run away with him sometimes (Okay more than a lot) but Lance isn't that insensitive. He knows how to shut up, especially when it is important. He just hoped Shiro understood that all of them, Allura and Coran included, were ready to listen whenever he was ready to talk.

He sighs directing his focus back onto the task at hand, setting aside the knife and turning his attention over to the sticks and kindle, and starts to arrange them for the fire.

Thanks to a few summers spent at a summer camp, the occasional camping trip with his family and the classes at the Garrison, Lance knew he had plenty more survival knowledge knocking around in his brain somewhere. Unfortunately he hasn't really had a need to use said skills. Not to mention the Garrison classes focused more on Space Survival and the environments of other known planets.

And that was the itch. This was an unknown planet so his skills were even more moot. It was only by luck that Iridessa, and lance cracked a smile at the use of the new name, has been similar to Earth in so many ways so far. And who knew how long that luck would last.

If the universe still insisted on hating him at least he had the bonus of having a blaster as his weapon. At first Lance had seriously considered using it to start the fire rather than going through all this tedious and time consuming stuff.

One: It was convenient. Two: While it didn't create fire per say the lasers should have the heat, and the power, required to start one. Maybe he could even use it to cook the fish itself if he was careful and creative enough. And Three: Did he mention it was convenient?

The only drawback was that Lance just didn't know if the bayard has a limit when it comes to power or shots or anything like that. He has never had to, nor felt the need to, push the weapon to its max before, even during their training sessions. It is something he plans to find out for the future, when he gets back to the Castle-Ship. In the end he decided he'd rather save it for more important things.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Lance mumbles, picking up one of the sticks. He sets the end of it in the center of the flat piece of wood and its small pile of kindling. He then takes a breath before rolling it between his palms, starting from the top and going down.

Time steadily starts to creep by as Lance works with little to no reward for his efforts. Once or twice he thought he could see the faintest wisps of smoke but each time he was proven wrong. Eventually he sits back to rest, his shoulders aching from bending over for so long.

He really should have started the fire before going fishing.

He briefly glances at his wrist which also throbbed in a steady ache from the repeated movements. The bruises were still an ugly shade of red and purple under the splint, though not near as horrible looking as the day before. Healing, slowly but surely.

The teen lounges for a little while longer before a look at the fish, resting in the shade of a giant rock, had him moving again, picking up the stick and kneeling by the wood.

That is when a loud snap draws his attention. Blinking Lance stops, lifting his head and looking around, searching for the source. Nothing catches his eyes at first but soon he spots movement over by the treeline. He squints and leans forward.

Peeking out from the undergrowth was a large set of orange eyes.

Chapter Text

Lance can't stop the surprised squeak from escaping as he stares, his heart leaping into his throat and face draining of color. The stones slip from his hands to clatter against the ground.

At the noise the creature steps forward, the leaves rustling as a stocky body emerges from the foliage, covered in gleaming scales. It sort of resembled a lizard. You know: if a lizard had six legs, was purple and green in color and had the most angry looking expression on its face. The orange eyes never moved from Lance, watching him closely even as he held his breath.

Okay Lance. Don't panic. Maybe it is just passing by and is— nevermind. Holy Crow.

His thoughts broke off as the creature took a few steps forward, directly towards him. It was most definitely not passing by. Reflexively his hand dropped to the bayard laying on the ground, fingers closing around the handle. It transformed with a bright flash that had the lizard pausing in its approach.

Lance froze. Would it attack?

He didn't move after that, terror locking his muscles, as the lizard cocked its head to the right. One of the eyes blinked as the animal rotated its head in the direction of the fish at his side, a forked tongue darting out much like a snake. Of course. The thing wanted the fish he worked hard to get; It was likely the smell that had drawn it in in the first place.

For a moment Lance's grip tightened on the blaster, torn between letting the thing take the fish—his meal going down the drain in the process—or protecting his dinner. The decision was made for him when a small rumbling growl started and its mouth opened, revealing a set of large and sharp teeth dripping with drool in, what Lance could only assume was, a hungry fashion.

It could have the fish. He could get more. Yup. No problem. As long as he didn't become a second course for the creature he was perfectly fine with giving up his meal. He clutched his blaster against his chest, knuckles white.

As the lizard circled closer Lance backed away from both it and the fish, matching it step for step while trying to keep a safe distance between them.

He wanted to run. To flee back to Blue, to safety, but there was no way he was going to make it if the lizard decided to give chase. He also had no desire to turn his back on the reptile either. Lance chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to think a few other ways he could escape without attracting the beasts attention, none of which were promising.

As long as he didn't do anything threatening, maybe it'd leave him alone...?

After a few slow and agonizing minutes Lance was back at the treeline and the lizard was on the shore of the lake, snuffling the giant leaf and inspecting his catch. With it currently distracted Lance spared a glance to the trees around him. Some of the branches were low enough to reach if he stood on one of the protruding roots and used the vines for leverage.

Lance looked back at the lizard. It had the fish in its mouth now and was gnawing away at it.

Well it was now or never. Taking a breath Lance burst into action, climbing up the biggest root near him and made a grab for a vine. He scaled up the side of the tree reaching the nearest branch in record time, surprising even himself at how fast he moved.

He heaved himself up on top of the branch and laid down, clinging to it and panting softly. When he dared to look back at the ground he was greeted with the sight of the lizard watching him. Lance stared back.

That thing best not be able to climb trees!

Fortunately the creature seemed more interested in the fish than him. With a shake of its head, it continued to eat and Lance sat up, breathing out a sigh.

Maybe he could wait until it wandered off?

-------------

Waiting was a bad idea. A bad bad bad idea.

Lance sat huddled on the wide branch with his back against the trunk, knees to his chest. His arms were locked around them by the blaster in his hands.

It has felt like hours since the stupid lizard first arrived and it was still hanging out below, stretched out on one of the rocks and sunbathing of all things! Completely still except for the occasional blink and flicker of tongue. He couldn't decide if he was upset or glad that he had failed to start his campfire. Would the flames have stopped the lizard from hanging around? Being his luck the answer is yes.

“Just go away already!” He grumbles, glaring daggers at the creature. “There is no more food for you!”

Lance knew he couldn't stay in this tree forever but he was still reluctant to leave his perch. For starters it was safe. The animal clearly had no qualms about their situation like the teen did, preferring to just chill out where it was. Lance really'd rather not risk angering it and have it attack. Besides, chances were good that Lance would be making repeated trips to this lake and having an angry lizard waiting for him every time would not be fun.

He couldn't just sneak away when it wasn't paying attention either. While he was wearing his armor, sans helmet, his bag of supplies was still down there and Lance couldn't leave them behind. He should have at the very least grabbed his bag before fleeing. Stupid stupid stupid. The only upside is that the lizard didn't seem interested in it and had left the things in their piles.

His stomach gave a rumble and Lance deflated further. The last time he had ate was half way through his hike to the lake which was hours ago. He had postponed a snack in favor of trying to catch the fish.

“Any other bad choices you'd like to make today, Lance?” He huffs, resting his forehead on his knees and slowly rolls his head from side to side then up and down. Eventually he settles with laying his cheek against one and closing his eyes. His stomach growls again.

“Urgh. I'd even settle for one of Coran's meals right now.”

Never again was he going to take for granted Coran's cooking. Yeah, his concoctions weren't always the most appealing in smell and taste but at least he put effort into what he made. Between that and the time he spent helping them train—on top of everything else he does around the castle—it was clear the older Altean cared a lot about the new paladins. He just had an interesting and rather enthusiastic way of showing it.

Like when Lance had become homesick? Coran had noticed something was wrong and came to check on him. It was then that Lance realized he and Hunk weren't the only ones going through their own bout of homesickness.

The fact Allura and Coran were the last two Alteans alive wasn't anything new. It was a detail they all learned during their very first meeting but with the threat of the Galra there hadn't been any time to give it serious thought. Because of that, the gravity of the meaning didn't actually sink in until he was telling Coran about Earth. Until Lance heard the wistfulness in Coran's voice as he spoke of his own home planet, Altea.

That conversation was also the first time Lance tried imagining what it would be like if Voltron failed and Zarkon won. It had made him sick to his stomach. Lance was an optimist. He wanted to believe they'd save both Earth and the Universe. That they would all return home as heroes even if no one else knew what they had accomplished.

And that was the glaring difference: Allura and Coran didn't have a home to return to.

Idly he wondered if they'd feel comfortable living on Earth when everything is said and done: the Universe saved and Zarkon taken care of for good. Lance knows his family would like them a lot and admittedly, he also knows he would miss their company.

A gentle wind ruffles Lance's hair and he opens his eyes turning his face into the breeze. It was still hot, but at the same time Lance was starting to think it was growing cooler. The warm breeze felt nice all the same and he sighs. It also smelled fresh and perhaps Lance is imagining it but was that the scent of rain?

He lowers his arms from around his knees, stretching his legs and letting them dangle over the sides of the branch. His new vantage point gave him a more expansive view of the lake and its surroundings; he could see farther downstream and all the way to the treeline beyond the opposite shore. The tree branches still blocked the majority of the sky but he could tell that it was still orange and, more importantly, devoid of those annoying yellow clouds.

Maybe he had imagined it? That longing for home playing with his senses.

Lance hums softly. Even if they were he couldn't chance it. He had to get back to Blue at some point—preferably before night falls or it actually does rain—and frankly Lance is super hungry and extremely tired of sitting around in a tree catering to a lizard who refuses to move along.

The blue paladin looks down back to the ground spotting the lizard where it was still lounging on the large rock. He had been reluctant to injure it earlier, and for good reasons, but now the creature had missed its chance to leave willingly and it was now getting an eviction notice whether it wanted one or not. Mind made up Lance swaps to a more comfortable position whilst adjusting the dial on his blaster before he raises it and takes aim.

The first shot hits its mark, leaving a black mark on the stone directly in front of the Lizard's nose. It hisses, either from anger or surprise, backpedaling off the rock with a lash of its tail. Lance doesn't hesitate and continues firing in rapid succession, aiming each shot with careful precision at the creature's clawed feet, until it gives one final snarl and disappears into the underbrush by the river.

Lance waits a couple ticks to make sure the lizard is really gone before he slides from his perch and down the tree, keeping his blaster at the ready even after his feet touch the ground. Once he reaches his supplies Lance redresses in the remainder of his armor and slings his supply bag over his shoulder, eager to be gone before the lizard returns.

And it will return. Lance knows it. He's seen enough movies to know they always return and usually with a vengeance.