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English
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Published:
2023-01-23
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2,407
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1/1
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Flare

Summary:

Lance is bleeding out, it’s all Keith’s fault, and if he doesn’t figure out a way to stop the bleeding Lance is going to die. All he’s got though is the storage room he broke into at the Galran base that rather than having bandages or even spare uniforms contains useless things like wrenches and ship paneling and…

And flares.

Notes:

Timeline notes: earlier season three
Warning notes: blood, cauterization

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“In here,” Keith shoved open the door and practically dragged Lance over the doorjamb after a quick look revealed the room was devoid of occupants and right now that was all that mattered.

That and they hadn’t left a blood trail.

Keith glanced down to where Lance’s left hand — shaking badly — was pressed against his stomach, the barest peek of tan flesh visible beneath the saturated gloves Lance had layered over the gaping wound to try to staunch the blood flow. 

No drops looked to speckle the hallway they’d stumbled down from the scene of the surprise attack and that was going to have to be good enough for now.

Keith shoved the door closed with his foot behind him and prayed the Galra didn’t think to look behind it as to Voltron’s knowledge they had zero idea one of the Paladins was part-Galran and bypassed their biometric locks.

The room looked to be some sort of storage unit for the hangars and ship supplies; Keith spotting what looked like extra paneling, road flares for the landing areas and boxes and boxes of nuts and bolts and a variety of tools.

He did not spot any bandages or even anything resembling cloth to try to staunch the bleeding, which at this rate was going to be more deadly than any Galran forces.

Goddamnit.

“K-Keith,” Lance swayed at his side and Keith belatedly realized Lance was starting to sag even more, skin growing pale beneath his tan. “I, I th-think I’m gonna…” he swayed more, eyes closing.

“No fainting,” Keith snapped, worry making his tone sharp as he pulled Lance forward and turned to ease him down atop one of the boxes containing a bevy of wrenches, Lance as boneless as a doll, where Lance immediately tipped sideways, only another crate holding him up and his left hand slipping away from the wound. 

“Lance!” Keith reached out and firmly patted the other boy’s cheek, garnering a half-lidded, dulled blue gaze. “Stay awake,” he ordered, irrational fear telling him that if Lance passed out…

He wasn’t going to wake up.

Lance’s eyes began to slip back closed.

Keith yanked off his own gloves, layered them atop each other, and pressed them atop Lance’s own.

Lance jerked awake with a hoarse scream that Keith immediately threw his other hand out to hold over Lance’s mouth with a hissed, “quiet!” that came out a lot harsher than he meant it as Lance flinched, guilt flooding his features, even as he moaned again, head tipping against the crate. 

He had nothing to feel guilty over though. Keith was the one who had fucked up, who had given the go ahead signal for Lance to turn the corner…

And walked right into a fucking ambush. 

The Galran who had tried to gut Lance was dead, a headless corpse on the floor, but of course the asshole had pulled his blade free as he went down and only opened up the gaping wound in Lance more.

And it wasn’t a wound they could leave unattended at the rate it was gushing blood. It was at least ten minutes back to the hangar Keith had left the cloaked Black Lion in and that was assuming they didn’t run into another full squadron or ambush and Lance didn’t have that kind of time.

He needed help now and Keith had to fucking find something to staunch the bleeding. 

Something.

Anything.

He pressed his hands harder to Lance’s stomach, crimson bubbling up around his fingers, and Lance clearly tried not to cry out that time, a choked sounding sob as he turned his face to press it into his shoulder, entire body shaking. 

And this, Keith knew, as he looked at the fully soaked second set of gloves, was not working. He needed a heavy duty compress, something to put weight on and hold the blood in, something to seal it up before…

Before…

“‘m,” Lance mumbled, “sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Keith asked, eyes frantically running around the storage room again for something he’d missed to use as a bandage.

There had to be something.

God, there had to be something.

“Didn’t… didn’t l-look.”

“Because I told you it was clear,” Keith retorted and God, how could he have messed up this badly? He thought he was finally starting to get a handle on being Voltron’s team leader and now…

God, now, because of him…

“It’s my fault you’re hurt, Lance,” he whispered, eyes doing another look through and God, had he fucked up this decision too? Should he have just tried to plow through to Black and her emergency kit on board where at least he had something he could have used to staunch the bleeding until they got back to the castle? 

Was Lance going to…

Lance gave the barest hum and Keith wondered if he’d even heard him. 

Keith pushed down again on the bloodied gloves and Lance barely twitched.

There was no way he would make it to the Black Lion now even with a straight shot.

Keith either did something in the next minute, or…

God, or…

“Damnit,” his voice cracked, “damnit damnit damnit!” 

He slammed his left fist against the crate with his last curse and the strike was hard enough that the shelving unit next to it wobbled…

And a case tipped over.

Keith threw up his arm as it crashed down, spilling its contents all over the storage room floor.

Keith stared at what had been in the case, breath hitching.

The road flares.

These ones didn’t even ignite like Earth’s did; a simple button on the side activating it.

Keith shakily reached a blood covered hand out, picking one up and hitting the switch.

Bright blue-white light lit up the dim storage room, highlighting Lance’s pale skin and the dark sheen of not just blood but torn, gaping skin. 

Keith swallowed thickly, stomach clenching.

It…

It could work.

Cauterization was a viable medical technique, if a dangerous one as it could cause the victim to go into shock, infection could easily set in, the wielder could unknowingly do more damage than good…

But assuming Keith didn’t fuck this up too it would stop the bleeding. And, and what came after that…

But God.

His hand trembled, sending the flame dancing.

Lance didn’t so much as react to the wash of heat as Keith lifted it up, holding it above Lance’s stomach, but Lance’s chest gave the barest rise beneath his armor. 

And Keith had no more time to waste. It was do this or Lance died.

He took the moment though to flip the flare off and readjust Lance, pulling him from his slumped sit to lying down on his back across the crates so he had the best angle, the blood-soaked gloves falling off with a plop that made Keiths’ stomach lurch. He paused too to yank off one of Lance’s boots and drag off his sock — blue with yellow polka dots — and folding it over pushed it between Lance’s teeth.

He was going to scream the moment he came to as Keith literally set him on fire and if the Galra forces overheard him they would storm the room and there was no way Keith would be able to fight them off. 

He took one last breath as he turned the flare back on, hovering it over wound.

Steady, he silently coached himself as he put his left hand on Lance’s chest to brace both himself and hold Lance down. Be quick, but not too quick where he had to come back for another pass.

He could do this.

And go.

He pressed the flame down.

And Lance screamed, the impromptu gag catching most of it, his eyes flying open and body jerking and Keith shoved down harder with his left hand to hold Lance still. 

Lance let out another inhuman sounding scream, his helmeted head smashing into the crates and then the wall as he tried to jerk away, legs weakly kicking out and his hands scrabbling to grab onto something.

“I’m sorry,” Keith choked out as the scent of burning meat filled the air and Lance screamed again and Keith couldn’t even spare him a look as he traced the ugly wound with the flare and leaving an even uglier, mottled burn behind.. “I’m s-sorry.”

Lance’s scream turned into a sob, his movement stilling.

It made Keith go faster.

Lance was fading.

By the time he finished drawing the flare across Lance’s stomach Lance had completely stopped moving.

Keith’s hands were trembling enough for the both of them as he flicked the flare off and dropped it with a clatter, terrified eyes lifting up towards Lance’s face.

It was slack.

No.

N-no.

He’d been too late. The, the pain had—

Lance’s chest rose.

Keith’s heart slowly started to beat again.

“Lance?” he whispered, bringing a shaking hand to Lance’s cheek, brushing it against cool but not quite cold flesh. “L-Lance?”

Lance didn’t react except to let out a shallow, muffled exhale. 

Keith eased the now damp sock out of Lance’s mouth and then pressed it along with a fist against his own to keep in the low sob of equal parts relief and terror threatening to expel itself as adrenaline and the reality of what he’d just done caught up with him.

It still wasn’t over, but, for now…

Lance was alive.

Keith had to keep him that way.

He gave himself a minute to breathe, to steady himself, before he took another minute to put Lance’s boot sans sock back on his foot, and another to figure out how he was supposed to carry Lance now while still wielding his sword.

A fireman’s carry was the only way. 

It was going to hurt as Lance’s stomach pressed directly onto Keith’s shoulders and back but he didn’t have a choice as anything else would leave them both defenseless.

Keith swallowed.

Crouched next to the crates.

And in one smooth motion secured Lance over his shoulders.

The other boy let out a low moan, body twitching, but for the moment he remained unconscious and opposite to his wishes a few minutes ago Keith hoped he remained that way. 

Keith summoned his bayard and eased open the storage room door.

No one was outside.

He took off jogging, trying to keep his footfalls as even and silent as possible, and luck seemed to finally be on their side as not only did he not encounter any soldiers Lance didn’t wake up to give away their position until they reached the still cloaked Black Lion and Keith was lowering him down onto the pull out cot with a mental command to Black to take off and pilot herself, grateful when he felt the engines kicking on beneath them as she did so. 

Lance let out a soft moan, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and even with his eyes tightly shut tears were squeezing themselves out. 

The comms wouldn’t work until they were out of this base’s relay zone which would be another few minutes at minimum to alert Coran of the situation, so Keith did what little he could for the moment as he opened up the emergency kit and flipped the blanket out over Lance — trying not to look at the horrific, mottled burn and God, he’d done that — and then propped Lance’s feet up on top of the case just in case it helped with any potential shock, and then eased off his helmet and shoved a pillow beneath his head.

Lance was still pale beneath his tan but Keith didn’t think he was imagining the fact Lance’s lips were no longer quite so blue, a hint of pink returning to his skin. 

A moment later Lance’s eyes flickered open, blue orbs still hazy and half-lidded but as they shifted sideways they caught Keith’s with a clarity they hadn’t had before.

“Keee,” Lance whimpered, eyes squeezing closed again, his body trembling beneath the blanket and followed by another pained whimper.

Keith tentatively reached his hand out and placed it atop Lance’s head as Shiro used to do for him to comfort him, as he’d witnessed Lance do for Pidge, trailing it through Lance’s sweat-soaked hair. 

Lance shuddered beneath his touch but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered. “I’m so s-sorry, Lance. This, this is my fault. But,” he swallowed, “you’re gonna be okay.”

He had to be okay.

“Hurts,” Lance breathed, another tear trekking down his cheek.

“I know,” Keith bowed his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Lance gave a weak shake of his head. “Not… n-not your…”

“It is my fault,” Keith snapped, voice thick. “I’m the reason you got hurt. I fucked up. And you… you almost…”

“S-saved me,” Lance whispered, hazy eyes meeting Keith’s again, no lie in them.

“I burned you,” Keith retorted and Lance’s eyes widened ever so. “I burned you, Lance. I, I hurt you.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the sound of Lance’s strangled screams and the scent of burning flesh and the way the flare had highlighted the entire gruesome scene. 

Lance gave another shake of his head, refuting Keith. 

Keith’s eyes stung.

How could Lance forgive him?

How could Lance not blame him?

He didn’t deserve this… this kindness. He’d fucked up, he’d almost gotten Lance killed, he’d hurt him, likely scarred him, and yet…

Yet… 

Lance’s hand twitched out from beneath the blanket, fingers not quite scrabbling as they had but clearly seeking something.

Keith was offering his other hand before he even realized what he was doing and Lance’s fingers latched around his own with more strength than he’d been expecting.

“‘s…” Lance’s throat bobbed. “‘s okay. ‘Kay?”

Keith felt a hot tear slipping down his cheek as he squeezed Lance’s hand back.

“Okay,” he whispered and Lance’s lips curved into a hint of a smile and God, why was Lance trying to comfort him? 

This was all backwards.

And yet…

Yet it wasn’t at all.

“Stay?” Lance whispered, his fingers twitching in Keith’s hold.

Keith nodded, tightening his grip, and trusting Black to take them safely back to the castle. “I’ll be right here,” he promised and while none of the pain furrowed in Lance’s expression eased he let out a tiny, almost peaceful little sigh, eyes fluttering closed again.

And counting Lance’s soft breaths and watching his chest slowly rise beneath the blanket, Keith stayed. 

Notes:

What is it with me and Keith cauterizing Lance's wounds with open flames? If you read and and enjoyed the fanfiction please consider leaving a comment before clicking away. It truly means a lot to me to hear from readers and those small details -- favorite lines or scenes or feelings -- really mean the world ♥ Thank you so much to those who take the time to engage; I see you and I appreciate you ♥ (Also, psst, I got a TikTok! I have pretty much no clue what I'm doing but if you'd like to hear some of my rambles or see what I'm up to or have questions about fics feel free to check it out!)

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