Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Consciousness came suddenly to Lance.

“Whoa! What?” Lance patted at his torso, feeling for the pain of the witch's attack, hoping to at least mitigate the glowy not-bleeding, and paused. He stared at his torso, stared at the unbroken armor, stared at the distinct lack of injury.

Lance glanced around, at the overall blue coloring of the cockpit, and frowned.

“Lance?” Hunk's voice came through the comm, and Lance went to action, flipping through the systems.

“I'm here.” His frown deepened when he spotted that his armor was blue in color, not black.

“Oh, thank crow,” Hunk breathed. “I think that corrupted wormhole knocked out the lions. Yellow isn't responding.”

“Hey, Hunk?” Lance called out, raising his eyebrows in surprise when Blue powered up, and the systems check showed everything running smoother than he'd ever seen Black run. “How... corrupted do you think that wormhole was?”

“What do you mean? Is this related to you passing out? Did you wake up with extra limbs?” Hunk gasped. “Do I have extra limbs?”

“Worry about any extra limbs later,” Lance commanded – gently, because Hunk couldn't pull out of an anxiety spiral if he was forced to. “Blue is running smoother than ever. You said Yellow wasn't responding? It could just be the shock of crash landing like we did. Give him some time to rest up, same as us.”

“Yeah,” Hunk breathed, and Lance smiled, imagining the nod that Hunk was likely doing. “You're right. Wow, you're actually right for once.”

“Ignoring that,” Lance muttered, too low for the comms to pick up. He had thought that Hunk knew better than to heckle him when they were in the lions. Louder he said, “Talk to me about Yellow, my man. You have anything?”

“Yellow's running on emergency power. It looks like we're in deep water here.” Lance nodded, then paused as he noticed that they were deep at the bottom of an ocean.

He groaned. “Hunk, don't make this any worse with jokes.”

Lance had to take stock. They had just come from the massive battle to rescue Allura, and he had to come to terms with the fact that Zarkon was the original Black Paladin before him. As much as he wanted to joke around and lighten the tension, there were more important things to consider.

Notably, why he was currently the Blue Paladin.

“Look, I wanted to ask – wait, what was that?” Lance gripped the controls, turning and twisting Blue to follow after the shape swimming around them.

“What?” Hunk asked, voice raising in alarm. “Lance I'm sitting dead in the water, what's going on?”

“Ignoring the pun,” Lance said, loud enough for Hunk to hear as he performed a loop-de-loop in place. “There's a – dude, I'm pretty sure I saw a mermaid.”

“Not this again,” Hunk groaned. “Leave the scared fish alone, Lance.”

Lance paused, looking through Blue's eyes at what was very obviously a mermaid. “Hunk,” he breathed, awe heavy in his voice, “Hunk we're on a planet with mermaids.” Lance flicked on the outside comms. “Hi there! I'm Lance, and the big yellow one down there is Hunk.”

The mermaid waved at Lance, smiling. She was, in his opinion, exactly the kind of pretty he had always imagined mermaids to be. “Hello, Lance. Hunk. It's very nice to meet you.”

Lance landed Blue beside Yellow, turning on the mask of his helmet and switching the the private comms. “Hunk, I'm going out. The folk here seem pretty nice, and maybe they can help us get back in contact with the Castle.”

“Yeah, yeah, or,” Hunk drew out the word, making Lance raise an eyebrow, “we stay here in our lions and maybe not get eaten?”

Lance tilted his head, frowning again. “Dude, if they wanted to eat either of us, I'm pretty sure we'd know about it. I mean, it's not like they've ever seen a big robot lion before. At best, Voltron's a legend to them. And besides, it's not like we can't fight our way back here if they do turn out to be evil and want to eat us.” Lance stepped down into the airlock, waiting for Blue to pressurize and let him out. He felt her prod at his mind, curious, and he patted the side of the airlock. “And I'm already heading out to meet the mermaid. Blue's going to set up her particle barrier around herself and Yellow, so do you really want to be left all alone out here?”

Nope, you're right!” Lance heard Hunk rush out into the sea, and he chuckled. The airlock filled with water, the door opening for Lance to swim out. Clicking his heels, the soles of his boots let out a burst of thrust, jettisoning him out toward Hunk and the mermaid.

He could ask about why he was apparently the Blue Paladin after they got back to the Castle. At least there he could find out wherever Shiro had gone, that he was with his lion.

Bonding with Blue was an experience. Where Black sang like the birds and the wind, Blue whistled and thrummed, a constant pulse and pull that reminded Lance of dolphins, whales, and the ocean. Together with Hunk, they had managed to crush the Baku beneath a mountain of rocks and freed the mermaid peoples.

Unfortunately, it came too late for him to save Florona from the Baku.

The good part, though, was that they managed to get back into contact with the Castle, Queen Luxia having an ancient signal beam. Pidge had gotten there first, and led Lance and Hunk back to the castle, chattering about the space junkyard and little space fluffs they had encountered. Lance offered his own couple questions, keeping Pidge talking, and made note that Hunk wasn't participating as much as he otherwise would. Typically, something like a space junkyard would have Hunk asking a million questions a minute, but he was keeping quieter than Lance.

The hypnotism caused by the food from the Baku hadn't had the chance to mess with Lance worse than it had with Hunk. While Lance barely remembered what had happened during that evening, Hunk's eidetic memory meant that he would remember all of it, whether he wanted to or not. Which meant that he remembered attacking Lance, remembered fighting Lance.

He had to talk with Hunk, had to sort out that issue before the guilt consumed his best bud.

“Hey, you haven't mentioned anyone else,” Lance interrupted Pidge as they settled the lions in the hangars. “What about them?”

Pidge stepped out of Green, glancing away as Hunk and Lance exited Yellow and Blue. “Well, I haven't had the chance to ask any of the others. But Shiro's in the cryopods healing. Apparently he had a run-in with witches back at Zarkon's ship? He's okay though; Coran said that he'll live.”

Huh. Well, that was interesting.

“What about Keith?”

Pidge snorted. “Since when have you cared about Keith?”

“Humor me.” Lance walked over to Hunk, tossing an arm over his shoulders. Hunk stiffened, but the soft smile Lance gave him melted away the tension. It wasn't a perfect fix, or even a permanent one, but it was a start. “Last I remember, Red and Black were falling out of the hangar first.”

“Keith ended up on the same planet that Shiro was on.” Pidge gave Lance heavy side-eye. “I don't know the details, since we were focused on getting Shiro into a cryopod and finding you.”

“Well, we're found.” Lance gave Pidge a huge grin. “And we're somewhere in the area of fine.” He gestured at the elevator with his chin. “Come on, let's go meet everybody in the med bay and swap stories. I think everyone is going to want to hear about my story.”

“You're a bastion of heroism, Lance,” Pidge muttered with the roll of the eyes. Lance chose to ignore that as well. If he was right, then the wormhole had done a lot more than any of them thought it had.

“Just trust me on this one,” Lance said, tossing an arm around Pidge – who squawked and tried to escape. They weren't trying too hard, however, and Lance laughed all the way to the med bay.

So you think you were stuck in a time loop?” Lance nodded along, his thoughts coming together. It was so strange, looking at Shiro in the cryopod. There, on Shiro's torso, were the same injuries that Lance had gotten the day before. Shiro was also dressed in the medical suit, and Lance wondered if the suit had made him out to be just as built when he had gotten injured. He was also out of the armor, and was glad of it. Even if the armor of the Blue Paladin was, apparently, his, it still felt weird to know that he was wearing Shiro's armor.

“I know we were stuck in a time loop,” Allura corrected him. “Coran kept getting younger.”

“Uh-huh,” Lance continued to nod. He held up a hand. “But what about the mice? You said they kept changing species.”

“What difference does that make?” Pidge asked, and Lance could feel the questioning stare at the back of his head.

“It makes a lot of difference, Pidge,” Lance answered. “Because I'm betting it wasn't a time loop.”

“Why do you say that?” Hunk waved a hand in front of Lance's face. “Dude, you keep staring at Shiro like he's got the secrets of the universe.”

“This is serious, Lance,” Keith added, and Lance tore his gaze away from Shiro to look at the rest of the room. “We don't want to hear whatever ridiculous story you've come up with.”

Lance felt irritation at Keith's dismissal, but let it go. Keith was abrasive, but that was just because of how Keith held himself. Lance had put Keith together with Pidge on some of their missions, since he knew that they wouldn't feed into each other too badly

“It's not a ridiculous story if it's true,” Lance pointed out. Keith scoffed. “Besides, I think we're going to want to swap stories. It wasn't a time loop, it was Allura jumping between realities.”

“What makes you so sure about that?” Pidge squinted at Lance, and he offered them a smile as he turned back to Shiro, making a vague waving gesture at the cryopod.

“Because I'm pretty sure I did a bodyswap with your Lance.” He lowered his arm, keeping both hands in plain view. The sound of someone activating their bayard behind him – probably Keith, although Lance wouldn't put it past Pidge – made him turn around, hands outstretched in surrender. “It's all very Star Trek.”

“Wait so you're... not Lance?” Hunk furrowed his brow, and Lance offered him a lazy grin. “But you sound just like him.”

“It's because I am Lance,” he said, keeping his eyes on Pidge – to his surprise, Keith hadn't even drawn his bayard, instead keeping his arms at the ready to attack. “I think our universes crossed the stream with the corrupted wormhole. So... introductions, yeah?”

“Guys, I believe him.” Hunk nodded, stepping forward. One hand reached out, lowering Pidge's arm. “I mean, maybe he's not Lance, but whoever's in Lance's body isn't an enemy. We saved an entire planet together. He can pilot the Blue Lion.”

Lance's grin widened, nodding appreciatively. “Well, I can pilot any of the lions if I needed to, but I think I can manage with just Blue until we figure out how to fix this.”

“You can pilot all the lions?” Allura looked at Lance like she wasn't sure what to make of that. He shrugged, arms moving to cross. He grinned at her, feeling proud.

“Yep!” Lance felt like his grin was going to split his face in two. “And I can use any of the other bayards.”

“That doesn't sound right.” Keith frowned, his glare at Lance lessening but not vanishing.

Lance shrugged. “I thought so too. But apparently that's a perk of being the Black Paladin.”

It took Lance about twenty minutes to calm everyone down from the yelling, and even then he was pretty sure that none of them believed him. Which was alright, since not even his team had believed it when Allura first divided up the lions.

Granted, he hadn't had what looked like a swizzle stick waved over his head, but still. He could understand the sentiment, even if he didn't like it.

“Why are we even believing this?” Keith was staring at Lance like he was some kind of puzzle. Lance, meanwhile, just shrugged in defeat. He had already taken to nearly dying to get Keith to accept that Lance wasn't that bad of a choice for leader, and he really wasn't all too keen on recreating that moment.

Still, it hurt. This was his team, as much as it wasn't, and seeing them back at the beginning, with himself being doubted as the actual leader...

It hurt, an ache in his chest that wouldn't go away.

The swizzle stick beeped, and Coran hummed, his eyes going wide at the results.

“He's telling the truth,” Coran relayed, the swizzle stick humming a fine purple. “These readings confirm his quintessence as a match to pilot the Black Lion.”

Lance hummed, nodding at Coran. “See? Told you I wasn't lying.”

“Then where is our Lance?” Allura cut in, staring at him worriedly.

“Probably...” Lance froze, a look of horror on his face. He turned to face Shiro, to stare at the injury still healing. “He's probably back in my body.”

“Is that a good thing?” Hunk asked, distress heavy in his voice. “You don't look like that's a good thing.”

“Your Shiro,” Lance began, speaking slowly and calmly. “He was with Keith, right?”

“That's right,” Keith replied, defensively.

“Then if we assume that time in our realities is moving at the same time, then... he's probably right there.” Lance pointed at the healing pod. “I was coming out a battle with one of Zarkon's witches. She gave me that exact same injury.” He grinned. “But Keith was with me when the wormhole got compromised, so. Your Lance is going to be alright.”

Keith started, probably in surprise that Lance trusted him – another him, but still the same him nonetheless – with his life. “You...”

Lance gave Keith a soft look, full of trust. “I may not remember it, but we did have a bonding moment.” He chuckled. “Plus, you went after Zarkon for me. And saved me when the Castle tried to kill me. How could I not?”

Keith... Lance blinked at how shocked Keith looked. Like he hadn't expected that from Lance. Like Lance wasn't supposed to acknowledge the bonding moment.

“So we can presume that you've experienced the same events we have,” Allura said, drawing Lance's attention.

Lance held up a hand. “Hold on, let me guess. Sendak? Big monster that reminded Shiro of this one fighter from the arena? The attack on the Castle? Rescuing the Balmera?”

Allura nodded at each question, and Lance hummed. “Well, it seems the biggest change between realities is... me and Shiro.” He tilted his head, giving the cryopod holdling Shiro a half-smile. “You know, I have wondered what it might be like if I had been chosen to pilot Blue instead of Shiro. Heh, he's probably freaking out over having to lead the team while they figure out a way to undo this.”

“Shiro's your next in command?” Hunk nodded to himself. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. Except not! Shiro's got the Blue Lion? That means you don't have a bayard. How do you fight? Do you borrow one of ours? Do you use Shiro's because he's got that glowy arm?”

“What's Shiro's bayard take the form of?” Pidge interjected, and Lance grinned when everyone leaned forward.

“You can ask him yourself when he gets out of there.” Lance jabbed a thumb at the cryopod. As one, their faces fell before settling on giving him an annoyed look. “Hey, he's the Black Paladin here. He can just borrow any of your bayards and you can see for yourself.” He walked over to the wall, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back. “I'm treating this as a vacation from being the leader. It's exhausting being the adult. I have to be mature all the time, it's so disgusting.”

It was most of a lie, but they seemed to buy it, giving him groans and settling away most of their questions.

“So how do you fight?” Lance opened one eye, Keith focused on him. Keith, Lance had learned, liked puzzles. He liked the mystery and challenge of coming across something that he couldn't immediately use his natural talent and skill to plow through.

“Believe it or not, I'm actually really skilled at hand-to-hand.” Across the room, Shiro's face flickered, his brow carving deep furrows on his face. Lance straightened up, arms dropping down. He pointed at the cryopod, concern lacing his voice as he said, “Is that a normal thing?”

It was really something, Lance thought, to watch an entirely different Voltron interact. Notably, it felt like Keith and Shiro were a lot closer to each other than they were to the rest of the team. Hunk and Pidge gravitated toward each other as well – Lance had done what he could to mitigate it, mixing the team set-up where he could so everyone had a chance to bond with each other, but here it seemed like there were no team placements.

“And then there's Lance,” Keith finished, helping steady Shiro as Pidge and Hunk searched the prosthetic for a data slot. Keith was regaling Shiro with what had happened, and Lance was hanging back, taking the time to see how Shiro was concerned with his team. He spared a brief moment to wonder if maybe the other Lance was waking up to this exact scene, before covering his mouth as he imagined how the scene would play out.

“What about Lance?” Shiro gave Lance a passing glance, batting Hunk away so Pidge alone could work with his arm, and focused on Keith.

“It seems,” Allura began, having taken on the role of explaining what happened better than any of the humans could, “that the compromised wormhole crossed paths with an alternate reality. Our Lance and their Lance have switched places.”

“Switched bodies, you mean,” Lance pointed out, before giving Shiro a friendly wave. “Hey there. Glad to see you're all healed. Getting hit by the witch really hurt, didn't it.”

It wasn't a question, and Lance intended it to be something lighthearted to show that he wasn't all that different from the Lance they knew. But Shiro scowled, giving Lance a disappointed look. “This isn't the time for joking.”

“Not joking,” Lance said, stepping closer. He pointed to his own torso. “I also got hit back in my universe. I might not have the injury now, but I do know how much it hurt.”

Shiro blinked, eyes widening in shock. “You got hit by that? But I thought–”

“Yeah, funny thing about that,” Lance interrupted. Shiro was already set to blame himself for any injury his team took, having already failed his last team, and Lance, for all his faults, already had his argument in hand. He did not play to lose. “Our roles are reversed.”

“What does that mean?” Shiro asked, looking at Allura and Coran for an explanation. Pidge let out a cry of joy when they found a port on the wrist, plugging into the arm. Lines upon lines of incomprehensible data started scrolling over their computer screen, and they focused on that, typing furiously.

“It means,” Lance answered, drawing attention back to him as he held out a hand, “that in my universe, I'm the Black Paladin.”

Shiro laughed, and Lance blinked, taking a step back in surprise. Keith gasped, and Hunk squawked, while Lance closed off. Shiro waved his free hand, a smile on his face. “I mean, this is a pretty funny joke, guys, but seriously. This isn't the time.”

Lance felt affronted, and placed a hand over his chest. “What, you think I can't be the Black Paladin?”

“Look, I get I was injured pretty bad, but that doesn't mean that you can just call yourself the next leader of Voltron.” Shiro seemed to find that funny, and Lance felt something worse in him at Shiro's blatant dismissal.

“Not a joke,” Lance said, drawing on all his patience. This wasn't his Shiro, this wasn't his team. He had no place here, not as their leader. He really had no clue what this Lance's place on the team was, but he wasn't about to screw the guy over. “In my universe, you're the Blue Paladin, not me.”

“Seriously, knock it off,” Shiro said, the humor fading from his voice. Lance opened his mouth, ready to bring a swift end to the argument.

“Shiro, this isn't some sort of game,” Allura cut in, and Lance watched as Shiro listened to her repeat what they knew. “Coran has tested him. This isn't the Lance we know.”

“For one, he's a lot quieter,” Pidge piped up, still typing away.

“Well, it wasn't like I could goof off,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes. He reached out, ruffling Pidge's hair. “But you get two Voltron points anyway, because I like you and you tried to defend me.”

“Voltron points?” Keith's question hung in the air, and Lance did a full-body shrug.

“Well, yeah. Voltron points. Awarded to team members for doing their jobs. The one with the most points at the end of the day gets first crack at Hunk's cooking, and largest helping. We picked up these really great-tasting fruits from the forests back on Arus, and Hunk's been using them to spice up the food goo and flavor up the meals for the past month or so.” Lance blinked at the gaping stares everyone was giving him. “What? Do you guys not have that?”

“No~.” Hunk shook his head, looking like someone had stolen the last curly fry from him. “You still have food stored from Arus?”

“You actually went out foraging food from Arus?” Pidge asked, looking away from their computer. The lines still ran across, and Lance figured that they had made some kind of program to decode it all.

“Do you rig those Voltron points in your favor?” Keith spoke up, staring at Lance suspiciously. “So you always win and get the most food?”

Lance shook his head. “Dude, I'm not in the running. I've got a lot of duties, keeping you all in line and us a functioning team. Plus, it's hardly fair if the scorekeeper can award points to himself. Coran and Allura help me keep track, but it's really a competition between you guys.” He shook his head. “I was actually considering giving Shiro a handicap, since he kept winning. Minus points for every hour of sleep he wasn't getting.”

“You're not getting enough sleep?” Keith turned on Shiro, who winced and gave Lance a pointed glare.

“I am,” Shiro tersely replied, glaring at Lance. “Lance is just mistaken.”

Lance, in reply, just held up his hands in surrender. Shiro, back in his universe, was just as bad about letting the others in on his problems. It had taken Lance the better part of that first week to get Shiro to even talk to him.

“Guess I am,” Lance blithely agreed. “Like I said, you and me are the biggest differences between our universes.”

Chapter Text

Lance wished waking up didn't hurt like it did. He also wished that he wasn't hurting, period.

His side hurt, screamed in agony where he wasn't, where he couldn't. Lance squeezed his eyes shut, putting aside all his pain that he could. He couldn't just start screaming – and besides, it hurt a lot less than that time he was blown up. Compared to that, Lance could survive even a broken arm without crying. Maybe. Probably.

Lance pressed a hand to his side, fingers gingerly running along his armor. Through his gloves, Lance felt the tear in the armor, felt the–

He hissed, pulling his hand away. Cracking his eyes open, Lance glanced at his fingertips, expecting to see the sheen of blood... only to see nothing. Lance opened his eyes, blinking at the lack of blood on his hand. Glancing down, Lance stared at what was very obviously an open wound, stared at the way it pulsed purple.

“This is not good,” Lance muttered, reaching out to the console. He stopped halfway, the console not there, the cockpit silent. He couldn't feel Blue, couldn't feel her constant ocean thrum at the back of his mind, in the background of his senses.

His world was silent for the first time in months. His mind was silent for the first time in months.

“Guys?” Lance called out, hoping against hope that someone was within earshot. He hoped against hope that he wasn't alone. “Someone? Anyone?”

Lance looked around, looked for any sign that Blue was operational. He didn't think that they were that bad off from fighting at Zarkon's HQ, but the lack of anything was quickly proving him wrong. He reached a hand out, the black armor glinting in the li–

“What the cheese?” Lance stared at the black coloring of his armor, glancing down and seeing that it wasn't just the guard on his arm. He was wearing Shiro's armor, for some crow-begotten reason. He was...

Lance glanced around the cockpit, taking in the color scheme. Black. All of it, where he should have seen blue, was black.

He was in Shiro's lion. He was in the Black Lion.

Where was Shiro?

“Hello?” Lance called into the comms, desperation and panic slipping into his voice. He stood, pressing one hand against the wound as he tried not to pass out. “Someone? This is Lance, the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone out there?”

Was there anyone in there with him? Where was his team, where was his crew?

Where was Shiro, if not in his lion? Where was Shiro, if not in his armor?

Why was Lance in them both?

“I repeat,” Lance said, leaning against the wall as he stumbled toward the exit. He paid careful attention to his voice, paid careful attention to how tall he was. He had never been in the Black Lion's cockpit before, so he had no clue if the way the seating was designed was the same or not, but as far as he could tell, everything was perfectly Lance-sized. His voice, to his ears, also sounded the same. “This is Lance, the Blue Paladin of Voltron. I'm on planet, uh, I don't even know. I'm in the Black Lion. I don't know where Shiro is. The Black Lion is not responsive. Not that I expected her to be, but the point stands. To anyone listening, if anyone's listening, my comms are open.”

Lance moved his way through the cockpit, one hand pressed against the wall to steady himself while the other pressed against his wound. He made his way down into the airlock, and tasted the stale air. Lance bit back a curse. Black was nonresponsive, entirely, and of course it would mean that the air inside her was limited. There was no way of knowing just how long he'd been out of it, and even less for him to figure out a way to fix things. On the best of days, Lance knew how to jury rig function – at least temporarily – out of an Earth shuttle, but he didn't have the faintest clue where to even start fixing things with Black. Hunk and Pidge were the genius engineers, not Lance.

First things first, though, Lance needed to establish a location. With the presence of gravity – and suitably Earth-like gravity, no less, Lance was eternally grateful that they hadn't come across a planet with a heavier gravity or atmosphere that humans couldn't breathe – he was almost certain that he had crashed on a planet of some kind.

The airlock wouldn't open when Lance tried, the access screen remaining dark.

“Right,” Lance muttered, turning around. “No power means I can't leave through that way.”

Thankfully, there was more than one way out of the Lions.

Lance crawled out of the access hatch atop Black's head, his helmet's mask on. Peering out, Lance squinted at the starlight and took in his surroundings.

“A crater.” He pulled himself up through the hatch, doing his best not to jostle the injury too much. “Or a canyon. Probably a canyon. I'm pretty sure Black's crash didn't make something this huge.”

He was speaking mostly for the sake of whoever might catch onto his comms. At this point, he had to guess that if anyone else had crashed on the planet with him, they were too far away – or the low depth of the canyon was keeping his small signal from reaching them.

Sliding off of Black's head, Lance groaned through his teeth as he landed hard on his feet. He kept a hand pressed against the injury, partly to keep it from getting worse, just a little bit keeping it from the atmosphere. Granted, his hand couldn't do much to protect it from the elements, but given that it hadn't started burning in pain and he wasn't dropping dead, then he could at least assume that the atmosphere was human friendly.

Sighing, Lance reached his free hand up, undoing his mask. Closing his eyes, Lance took a deep breath. The air smelled dry, but it was fresh and breathable.

“This is good,” Lance muttered, looking around the canyon. He spotted something close to a path out of it, a nearby side that wasn't as sheer as the others, and started moving toward it. “I'm just gonna get some elevation, see what the rest of the planet looks like. Totally not going to run across a murder-y alien and die.”

Lance choked back a laugh at that, pressing his hand tighter against his side. The injury ached, and with the pain came the resolve to start moving.

He watched those nature documentaries back on Earth. He knew what an injured anything staying still in the wild meant.

What felt like hours later, Lance heard salvation.

And by salvation, he meant Keith's voice.

“Lance?”

He paused in his trek, a faint smile on the edges of his lips. “Keith? Is that you?”

“Lance!” Keith breathed, and Lance was shocked at the relief in Keith's voice. He was almost shocked enough to miss how Keith had started by calling out for Lance and not Shiro. “How are you doing? Hunk and Allura said that you got injured.”

Well, wasn't that something. Lance frowned. “Keith, it's going to take a heck of a lot more than a measly old gash in my side to knock me down.” He paused, turning in place. “You must be close. Hey, bit of a random question, but... you're with the Red Lion, yeah?”

Lance swayed a little, the trek mingling with the injury and leaving him feeling like he'd run a mile. The silence screamed at him, and he fought the urge to start moving again. Worry sat in his gut that anything he did might lose the connection with Keith.

“...Lance, did you hit your head?” Keith finally asked. Lance breathed a sigh of relief. “Is that why you didn't answer my comms earlier?”

“I think I did hit my head a bit,” Lance replied. Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he whipped toward the far canyon wall. He stared at the rock, looking for any sign of red armor. “But do you think you can answer my question?”

“Yes, I'm with Red,” Keith answered, and Lance squinted at the canyon. It felt like something was off, but he couldn't tell what. “But she isn't responding. I think the wormhole knocked her out or something.”

“I guessed that much.” Lance glanced back at Black. More movement on the canyon wall brought his attention back to it, and this time he stared harder, trying to find what it was that kept catching his attention. He craned to listen, the canyon echoing all sound. Even his voice, low as it was, echoed slightly. “Can you get in touch with Shiro or the Castle? I think the wormhole did something very strange.”

“Lance?” Keith probed, sounding more concerned that ever before. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Besides waking up in Shiro's Lion and wearing Shiro's armor, I'm peaches.” Lance grinned.

“...you woke up in the Blue Lion?” More movement, and Lance froze. He watched as huge lizard creatures moved swiftly along the ground, almost a dozen of them coming out of seemingly nowhere as they crowded and crawled all over the Black Lion.

“Keith, I woke up in the Black Lion,” Lance answered him, carefully moving backward. He scanned his immediate surroundings, looking for someplace to hide in. Several dozen yard away, Lance spotted a small cave. Deeper in the canyon, he heard a hissing screech. “Also, we're not alone on this planet.”

“Lance?” Keith sounded so small, but Lance was focused on getting to the cave. If he was lucky, it was big enough – and deep enough – to hold him, and he could... get in a good kick or two before being dragged out and eaten. “Lance?! Answer me!”

“Big lizards,” Lance replied, “with big teeth.”

“Stay where you are,” Keith commanded, and Lance had to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, apparently living out an episode of Star Trek, and Keith was acting like he had all the authority that Lance supposed was meant to be his. “I'm tracking your signal, just stay where you are. I'm coming!”

“No can do, buddy,” Lance chuckled. The hissing grew louder. “Those big lizards are gaining on me.”

“What?” Keith choked, panic lacing his voice. “Lance, are you out of your Lion?”

“Black is Shiro's Lion, not mine,” Lance corrected. “Or, well, she's normally Shiro's. But I couldn't stay in there, since nothing was working. The air filtration wasn't on, Keith. If I'm going to die, I'd rather it be in battle against murder-y lizard aliens than something as ridiculous as asphyxiation.”

Keith squawked, and Lance grinned when he made it to the small cave. It looked as tiny as he feared, but as deep as he hoped, and from the size of the lizards, he doubted they could fit inside.

“Don't talk like that!” Keith squeaked, then repeated it, more determined. “Don't talk like that. You're not going to die.”

“Inspiring words,” Lance remarked, crawling inside the tiny cave. It looked to open up about two feet in, and Lance turned as soon as he had the room. He raised his legs against the top of the entrance. “Hey, I'm about to cause a tiny cave-in, so don't be surprised if I cut out, alright?”

Keith let out a strangled noise. “Don't! That's an even worse way to die.”

“I know what I'm doing, Keith!” Lance bit back.

Keith sighed. “Right. Yeah, you do. Just... don't die on me?”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Lance answered, clicking his heels. The boosters at the soles of his boots let out a short burst, knocking loose the roof of the entrance and causing it to collapse. It wasn't a complete collapse, and Lance backed up against the far wall, letting the stray rays of starlight shine down on him. “I don't know if you can hear me still, but hurrying would be nice. Just look for the bit of canyon where the giant alien lizards are gathered around, and you'll find me.” He chuckled, coughing a bit when he inhaled some dust. “Or, like, what's left of me.”

“You don't have to worry about that,” Keith replied, just as clear as before. “I'm on my way.”

Lance settled back, groaning as the full depth of his situation sank in. Apparently he was stuck in either some kind of Star Trek mirrorverse, or he was stuck in some kind of Star Trek mind game meant to distract him while some alien sucked out his brains through a straw.

“I'm just going to ramble at you, alright?” Lance said to the air. “I really hope this is the mirrorverse thing and not the brain-eating aliens.”

“Lance what are you talking about?” Keith asked, and Lance heard him grunting.

“Star Trek.” Lance tilted his head, watching the dust motes swirl in the air, watched the beams of starlight flicker as the lizards arrived outside the cave. “It's got all these big tropes like sex pollen or bodyswapping or brain stealing. I'm really hoping this is some kind of mirrorverse where I'm apparently the super awesome team leader or something now.” Lance chuckled. He felt lightheaded, and his side ached. The lack of movement was good for the injury, but without it exhaustion was setting in. He sighed, closing his eyes. “I don't think I'd be as good a leader as Shiro, though.”

“What? No!” Keith protested, and Lance cracked open an eye. “Lance, you're a great leader.”

“Don't lie for my sake, Kogane,” Lance grumbled. “You know and I know that I've basically taken Shiro's spot away from him.” He sighed. “But don't annoy me too much about it. As soon as we're back at the Castle, I'm fixing this and giving the title of Voltron's Black Paladin back to Shiro.”

Lance heard Keith gasp, and he reached up to pull off the helmet. He didn't want to hear Keith's talk about how right that was, didn't want to hear Keith lie to him anymore. This armor was wrong, this place was wrong. Lance wasn't a leader, he wasn't the Black Paladin.

This wormhole business left him feeling far too much like a thief. He'd stolen Shiro's position on the team, and left Shiro with his position as...

He didn't even know what his position on the team was. Pidge was the hacker, Hunk was the engineer, Keith was the ace pilot and sword guy (and anyone with a sword was automatically the main person in any legend), and Shiro was their leader. And Lance... he was just the highest ranking cargo pilot the Galaxy Garrison had ever produced. He was barely even a hero. All he did was save Coran that one time, and even when they formed Voltron he didn't have a special thing like the others. The only reason he was so insistent on Voltron using kicks to attack was that it made him feel like he was contributing instead of just being some sort of... fifth wheel.

Lance turned the helmet in his hands, looking at the black coloring on it. His eyes reflected in the visor, and Lance tilted it so the light wasn't shining on that part of the helmet anymore. This wasn't him, this wasn't...

This wasn't what he wanted.

Lance closed his eyes, the helmet dropping onto his lap. He let himself doze, listening to the hissing snarls of the lizards outside.

He woke up to the sound of nails on rock.

Lance startled, slipping the helmet back on. He scrambled up against the far wall, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the growing opening of the cave.

The lizards were digging their way inside.

“Keith, tell me you're a lot closer to me.” Lance hated that he had to be saved by Keith, hated that he had nothing to defend himself with. He hated being so powerless, hated being so utterly useless.

“Lance!” Keith let out a whoop of joy, and Lance winced. “You're alive! You stopped talking to me, what happened?”

“You're concern in touching, really,” Lance sarcastically bit out. A lizard's clawed foot reached into the cave, and Lance kicked it as hard as he could. He pressed a hand to his injured side, holding it steady and hoping that defending himself against these creatures wouldn't make it worse. “I just took off the helmet. I didn't feel like listening to you preach the virtues of Shiro being leader over me.”

“Lance, I'm close. I can see the Black Lion.” Keith panted, and Lance kicked at another lizard foot. The offending lizard shrieked, and Lance could hear Keith's sharp intake. “Just – just hold on a bit longer, alright. Patience yields focus.”

Lance laughed, short and dry. “Where did you hear that from? It sounds like some kind of self-help nonsense.”

“It's Shiro's favorite saying.” Lance rolled his eyes, because of course it was. For all that they were supposed to be this great team of five, Keith really spent a lot of his free time in the training room with Shiro or on the bridge with Shiro or just... anywhere that Shiro was.

Really, Lance should have seen it coming that Keith, without Shiro there to tell him otherwise, would go and pick a fight with Zarkon.

The rocks tumbled away, and Lance let out a shout as he kicked at the first lizard head that slithered in. The lizard pulled away, screeching in Lance's face, before it was replaced with another. This time Lance used both feet, clicking his heels together as it lunged forward, mouth open wide to bite down. The booster burst sent that one skidding back, only to be replaced by two more. They scrabbled at the opening, making it wide and wider.

“Keith!” Lance shouted, reaching for a stone to toss into the mouth of one of the lizards, only to feel the pressure of teeth against the armor of his left shin.

The lizard pulled at Lance, backing out of the cave and dragging Lance with it. He was flung away, the helmet slipping off as Lance tumbled down a small cliff. The tumble hurt, not just because of his injury – which felt like he kept hitting it with every single sharp-edged rock in the canyon – but also his leg and his head. He lost sight of the Black Lion – but he also lost sight of the lizards.

Stumbling to his feet, Lance cradled the injury on his side as he started to run. Without his helmet, he couldn't activate his rocket booster, if it was even still functional. The lizards scrabbled along the sides of the canyon, and Lance whirled around, making sure that they knew that he wasn't running. He didn't want them to attack from behind, and Lance lashed out with the rock in his hand when one did, bashing into the skull of one and knocking it aside.

“Yeah!” Lance cried out, fear pushing way to false bravado. “I'm not some easy lunch for you!”

The rock slipped from his hand. A lizard screeched at him. Lance screamed back at it. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. His left leg ached, but Lance couldn't spare the chance of looking at it. So long as he was still standing, he wasn't going to stop fighting. So long as he was still breathing, he wasn't going to stop fighting.

Two lizards lunged, from both sides, and Lance didn't know what to do – he couldn't dodge to the side, or any of the other lizards would snatch him down. The boosters in his boots weren't powerful enough to give him any lift, so he couldn't jump above them. He was exhausted, injured, nearly dead on his feet about about to be dead in every other way.

Lance didn't dare close his eyes. He didn't want to give the lizards the satisfaction of knowing that he'd given up. His heart thundered in his ears, nearly drowning out the singing that started up.

The Black Lion came down from above with a mighty roar. Her tail lashed out, snapping one of the lunging lizards away in the same moment she landed, one of her feet crushing the other lizard. The lizards screeched at Black, seeming to forget that Lance was there, and he watched, awestruck, as Black dispatched the lizards with a bat of her feet and a swing of her tail.

Lance's legs gave out, dropping him to the ground. Black looked at him, looked right at him, and he felt like crying. The singing was her, was the sound of the birds and the winds and the skies above. It was the most beautiful sound Lance ever heard.

He felt her brush against his mind, felt her surprise, felt her concern, felt her fear and her anger. He felt her patience, felt her calming sense of protection, as consciousness slipped away from him.

Lance felt that the third time waking up really was the charm. The breeze was soft, and there was the sound of a crackling fire nearby. He felt exhausted still, and more of his body ached, but... he didn't feel in danger.

Cracking open his eyes, Lance watched Keith poke at a tiny fire with a tinier stick. Keith's face was scrunched up in the most serious expression, and his tongue stuck out slightly. Lance couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, even though it quickly gave way to harsh coughing. Keith was at his side in what seemed like an instant, helping Lance lean forward so he could breathe.

Eventually, it stopped, and Lance was helped back into laying against the flat rock Keith was using as backing. Lance glanced behind them, where the Red and Black Lions were sitting, their particle barriers up. Feeling Black's gaze upon him, Lance turned away, focusing his attention on Keith.

“So,” he rasped, and Keith handed him a water packet. “I have questions.”

Keith's gaze flickered at Lance's wound. “How does that feel? Your injury.”

“Terrific,” Lance replied, looking out at the low-hanging sun. “It's almost like I've always had a gaping wound in the side of my torso.”

Keith groaned.

“You're just like Shiro,” Keith complained, slumping back against the rock. “You scared me for a while there.”

“I'm sure I did,” Lance conceded. “But I'm still going to fix all this when we get back to the Castle.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked, turning to stare at Lance in confusion. “You keep talking like you're not the Black Paladin.”

Lance breathed out hard. “Look, I don't know what the whole 'compromised wormhole integrity' did, but I'm not the Black Paladin. The sooner we get back to the Castle, the sooner I can swap back to Blue where I belong. I'm sure she's missing me plenty.”

In the back of Lance's mind, he felt Black's inquisitive presence. It was like and unlike Blue's. Where Blue was open and careful and eager to get to know Lance, Black felt like a presence that pushed in and around Lance, that covered all of him like a cloak.

Keith stared at Lance, still baffled. “Lance, the Blue Lion is Shiro's. She always has been his.”

Lance met Keith's stare with his own baffled look. “What, really? So, like, this is full on mirrorverse, then.”

“What is that?” Keith asked, moving to put his full attention on Lance.

“It's a Star Trek thing,” Lance replied, raising an eyebrow. “You seriously don't know Star Trek?”

“I know it, I just didn't think you were a big fan.” Keith picked up his stick, poking at the fire again. “I figured you were more into Star Wars.”

“They're not mutually exclusive,” Lance pointed out. He grinned. “But I do love Star Trek more. It's all about exploring the galaxy and discovering new worlds and new friends and allies.”

“And Kirk getting the girls,” Keith added. Lance gasped, making it as dramatic and scandalized as he could manage.

“Captain Kirk is a feminist icon and he barely got with anybody in the original series.” Lance paused. “The original-original series. Not that reboot series they made for the hundredth anniversary.”

Keith snorted, and Lance gaped because Keith was laughing. Laughter petering out, Keith stared at Lance quizzically. “What?”

“I'm either in an alternate reality or I died,” Lance stated, nodding matter-of-factly, “because you did not just laugh in front of me.”

“I–” Keith opened his mouth to retort when he paused, nose scrunching up. He sneezed, and Lance let out an overjoyed squeal.

“You sneeze like a kitten!” Lance let out a peal of laughter that became horrible coughing, but it was worth it because Keith looked so offended and Lance was never letting that go.

“So,” Keith began lightly, helping Lance back into a sitting position when the latest coughing fit was over. “An alternate universe, huh?”

“Yep,” Lance replied, looking up at the sky. “Because it can't be possible in my universe to take Shiro's spot as the Black Paladin.”

“Then does that make you the Blue Paladin?” Keith asked, staring at Lance like he was some kind of puzzle to work out. “What happened to our Lance?”

Lance chuckled. “I am. Me and Blue are best buds.” He glanced at Keith. “You know, you're not an awful person here. Wonder what I did to put a stop to that.”

“Shut up,” Keith groused, but he rolled his eyes and was smiling. “We had a bonding moment. You even said so.”

Lance raised his head, giving Keith a pointed stare. “Seriously? That's all it took? Dude, I can barely remember pushing Coran out of the way.”

Keith huffed, glaring at Lance. “Well, you're going to remember this bonding moment!”

Lance stared at Keith.

“Are you seriously,” he began, disbelief dripping from every word, “comparing cradling me in your arms with piloting Black to save me from giant murder lizards?”

“It's a bonding moment!” Keith defended, throwing his hands in the air. “And you're going to remember this one for certain.”

Lance glanced up when the rumble of thrusters broke into the atmosphere. He grinned up at the Castle of Lions.

“Maybe I am going to remember this time,” he conceded. Giving Keith a light jab with his elbow, Lance grinned at him. “And all it took was jumping universes.”

Sometime between going into the cryopod and coming out, they had picked up Shiro and Hunk.

Lance listened to them explain their adventures with the mermaid planet (which, Lance was so jealous, why did he have to deal with the quiznacking universe bodyswap and miss out on saving a planet full of mermaids from a murder sea serpent) when Shiro pointed at the coordinates on Pidge's computer screen.

“So,” Shiro finished, looking at Lance like he was in charge. “I... remembered some stuff about how I escaped.”

“Shiro thinks he got rescued by a good Galra and we found those coordinates in his arm, but I think it was all planted there as some kind of trap,” Hunk summarized when Lance looked between the two. Shiro gave Hunk a good-natured glare, and he shrugged. “What? Isn't that what you were going to say?”

Shiro sighed, turning back to Lance. “So now that you know, what do you think?”

Lance looked at Shiro, turning to look at Keith. “You didn't explain anything about me to them, did you?”

Keith grinned, holding up his hands helplessly. “It didn't come up.”

“It didn't come up,” Lance repeated, putting his hands on his hips. “That's the defense you're going with? How hard can it be to just tell them 'hey guys, Lance got bodyswapped with an alternate version of himself where he's the Blue Paladin'? So maybe they could take that into consideration before looking to me for orders?”

“Wait, what?” Shiro blinked, taken aback. Lance turned back to see everyone looking at him like he'd grown a second head. His rage at Keith fell away, and he offered them a melancholy look.

“Yeah. I don't get this whole command– Coran, what are you doing?” Lance leaned away as Coran waved a swizzle stick around his head. The swizzle stick glowed blue, before darkening into something closer to purple.

“Fascinating,” Coran murmured. Louder, he said, “Well, it seems this Lance here is telling the truth. He's reading much closer to Shiro than a true Black Paladin.”

“Will this affect his ability to pilot the Black Lion?” Allura asked, looking at Lance worriedly. At any other time, he would have loved all the attention, but her concern with how well he could pilot Black, with how well he could be the decisive head of Voltron, put him off. “Will he still be able to form Voltron?”

“I don't see why he wouldn't,” Coran held up the swizzle stick. “He still tests capable of piloting the Black Lion. He would need some time with her to reconnect, but there shouldn't be any problems with forming Voltron.”

“Whoa, hey, hold on a moment.” Lance looked at Shiro, who was still staring at Lance like he– something coiled in Lance's gut, and he grinned. “Let's set a course for the coordinates in Shiro's arm. We can figure out the finer details of all this on the way, alright?”

Shiro looked at Lance, relieved, and nodded. Pidge whooped while Keith and Hunk groaned. Allura and Coran lead the charge out of the med bay, while Lance looked at Shiro.

“It wasn't that long ago that you were in that exact same spot.” Shiro nodded. “You've got a bit of catching up to do, but you are a good leader. Better than I would have been.”

The something coiled deeper into Lance's gut. He swallowed, his mouth dry.

“Looks that way,” he lied, walking alongside Shiro as they made their way up to the bridge. He watched Keith and Pidge bicker, slowing his pace when Hunk pulled back to talk to Shiro. Keith and Shiro glanced back at Lance, moving back to pull Lance into the group discussion on the coding in Shiro's arm, and what to do when they arrived at the rebel Galra's location.

Chapter Text

 Lance was dragged into the training room by Keith, who was still looking at him like he was a puzzle to be solved. Up in the control deck, Lance spotted the other five occupants, all of them looking far too eager to see Lance go up against a gladiator bot on his own.

“You're curious,” Lance began, looking down at the Blue Paladin armor that Pidge had shoved at him and told him to put on with bemusement. He didn't think he would ever get used to looking at the coloration of the armor he wore and not seeing the familiar black. Lance poked at the blue suspiciously. “But seriously, do we have the time for this?”

The intercom clicked, and Lance glanced at the control deck. He spotted Shiro, who was munching on food goo, and gave him a small grin and finger guns. It heartened him, to see that Shiro was taking care of himself. Lance remembered coming out of the cryopod himself and being starving, so it worried him that Shiro had been willing to forgo food in favor of going directly to the coordinates. All it took was a push and a nudge at Keith and Allura to get Shiro to concede that he needed to regain the proteins and energy the cryopod used to heal.

“The castle cannot make another teludav jump for a few doboshes yet,” Coran announced, before Allura wrested the microphone from him.

“What Coran means is that it was taxing upon the Castle to escape the corrupted wormhole. Our teludav technology needed to make the wormholes needs to rest before making the jump to the coordinates in Shiro's arm or we run the risk of damaging the system.” Lance nodded, rubbing at his chin and preening.

“So in the meantime, you wanted to satisfy your curiosity about how I fight without a bayard?” he grinned, looking directly past Allura, at Shiro. “You could have just asked.”

Keith moved to the side, his bayard in hand, but it wasn't active. Lance raised an eyebrow at that. Keith snorted. “It's so I can cut in when you get in over your head.”

Lance hummed, covering the curl of hurt. Even though he'd more than proven his ability as leader, his own team still preferred it when he didn't step out into fire with little else but a shield and his wits.

“Plus one Voltron point,” Lance awarded Keith, because his own issues didn't detract from the fact that Keith was still there, ready to move in if he needed help, “for being on-hand. You get another five if I do end up needing your help.”

“You mean when you need my help.” Keith rolled his eyes, but he had a smile on his face, which Lance mirrored.

“That hurts me,” Lance drawled, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Right here. So much lost faith, where do I even begin to start?”

“Start training level one.” Allura's voice cut through the air, and Lance furrowed his brow, frowning.

“Level one?” Lance turned to complain just in time to see a gladiator bot drop down, a staff in hand. Lance moved, ducking low as the gladiator made the first swing. He fell back, letting all his weight drop down to the floor. He caught his fall in both hands, hips swinging.

Both legs lashed out, Lance's right foot catching the gladiator's return swing with the back of his shin. His knee bent, locking around the staff and holding the gladiator in place. Lance's right leg kicked the gladiator in the waist before retracting, kicking the gladiator in the center once, twice, in the arm and in the dead center of the chest.

The gladiator stumbled back one hand still holding onto the staff, and Lance shifted his weight onto one hand as he kicked a third time. His free arm latched onto the end of the staff closest to him as his kick hit the gladiator in the arm still holding onto the staff. The gladiator let go of the staff.

Using the momentum of the kick, Lance again shifted his hips, using the weight of his legs to pull him into a handstand. The staff swung in his grip, the gladiator lunging for it as Lance fell forward, his back exposed.

Gritting his teeth, Lance stuck the staff out behind him, perpendicular to his falling body. Leaning his legs down, Lance kicked off of the floor and into a spin. He grabbed the staff with both hands and swung as hard as he could, using the force of the spin for added strength.

The staff caught the gladiator on the head, the force of the blow sending it flying. Lance landed hard on his knees, grinning when the floor opened up and the gladiator vanished from the room. A hole opened up near Lance, and he let the staff fall through it, joining its gladiator.

Pulling onto his feet, Lance looked up to see everyone gaping at him – and Allura and Coran staring at him with stars in their eyes.

“Very good!” Allura praised, and Lance smiled wide.

“A most unusual approach,” Coran added, matching Lance's smile. “But I can't argue against that effectiveness.”

“How did you do that?” Keith demanded, stalking over to where Lance was laughing. “That was– you took it down barehanded in thirty seconds.”

“My cousin qualified for the Olympics a couple years back,” Lance answered. “Gymnastics division. She never won a medal, but the rest of us loved joining her in training sometimes. Her coach had fits at first, before taking us all on. Luisa pushed us hard, and I never was much good at the balance beam.” He shrugged. “But acrobatics was the main thing she impressed on me before I wandered off.”

“Your cousin was in the Olympics?” Hunk whistled. “I never knew that.”

Lance glanced up at the control booth in surprise, then back at Keith, who was matching his surprised gaze with one of his own. “Seriously? I know I'm still rusty, but how have I not impressed any of you with my close combat? And by me, I mean the Lance native to this universe.”

“Our Lance has his bayard,” Keith pointed out. “It's a rifle.”

Lance nodded, breaking out in a grin. “Glad to hear that's a multiverse constant. I like being a sharpshooter when the mission calls for it. Less bruises that way.”

“How far into the training levels can you get?” Coran asked, and Lance turned back to the control booth. He waved Keith back over to the side as he recalled.

“Without a bayard? I made it to level five last week.” Lance hummed. He didn't miss the surprised jerk that Keith made, off to the side, or the way the other paladins squawked in shock. “Shiro keeps trying to shove his bayard at me so I can practice with one, but I feel all weird when I use any of the others.” On a whim, Lance held out his hand, the blue bayard materializing in his grip. He studied it, a thought activating it into a familiar rifle. “It's a bit like I'm using something I shouldn't. So I don't.”

The rifle vanished in a flash of light, the bayard following along a moment later.

“Well, it's time to get used to using one.” Shiro stepped forward, his tone brokering no nonsense. Lance raised an eyebrow, not disagreeing but not outright agreeing. “Restart the training sequence.”

Lance nodded, looking at Keith. He jerked his head to the side. “Can you handle the robot while I get situated?”

Keith blinked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought this was a solo exercise.”

“I see where you're coming from,” Lance began, nodding along, “but you have to understand that I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of times I have used a bayard. Also?” Lance pulled out the bayard, the rifle materializing again. He pointed at it with his free hand. “This is a ranged weapon. With a bayard, I am only good for indirect combat or distance sharpshooting. Neither of which that training sequence is set up for. You're really good with your sword, Skywalker, so get over here and–”

“Begin training sequence.” Shiro's voice cut through the air and Lance's eyes widened. He spun, putting his back to Keith's and readying the bayard while Keith...

Lance nudged at Keith with his elbow. “Dude. Your bayard.”

The gladiator bot dropped down, rushing them with another staff. Lance stepped away from Keith, firing twice. With a swing of the staff, both shots were blocked, and Lance watched while Keith engaged the gladiator, blocking and parrying the staff. Lance lined up a shot, and fired twice more. Keith started as the gladiator bot was hit squarely in the head and chest, falling away into the hole that opened up beneath it.

“You didn't warn me about that!” Keith called out. “And I thought you said you weren't any good?”

“One on one,” Lance replied, the bayard vanishing. He straightened up, stretching. Up in the control room, he spotted a heated discussion between Allura and Shiro, with Hunk in the middle trying to mediate between them. Coran and Pidge seemed to be the only ones paying Keith and Lance any attention. “Hey!” Everyone turned to look at Lance, and he pointed up. “Why don't we take whatever argument you're having and move it onto the bridge. I'm feeling left out of things, and I'm pretty sure Keith here is too.”

“I'm not!” Keith protested, wide-eyed and panicky. Lance snorted, but still moved toward the bridge.

“Maybe,” Lance admitted, “but I'm still heading up there. I don't think we really discussed going to those coordinates found in Shiro's arm.”

Keith jogged after Lance, settling into step beside him. They walked together in silence, but Lance could feel the heavy side-eye that Keith was giving him.

“Are you going to say something in the next century or do I have to go dig up the mind meld devices?”

Keith winced, looking away. “I just... you called me Skywalker.”

“Yeah.” Lance put his full attention on Keith. “I did.”

“Like... Luke Skywalker? Or Anakin?”

Lance's eyebrows slid higher and higher up his face. “Luke, obviously. You're not even close to Anakin.”

“So you know Star Wars?” Keith squinted at Lance. “But I thought you liked Star Trek.”

“They're not mutually exclusive,” Lance pointed out. “Even though I like Star Trek more.”

“Why...” Keith glanced down the hallway, and Lance leaned forward. He figured that whatever Keith wanted to talk about, it wasn't something he wanted the others to know. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because you lived in the desert,” Lance answered. “Because you've got the natural flying skill. Because your special weapon is literally a sword. Or, if you don't like any of those reasons, you can take it that A New Hope is your favorite movie.”

Keith started, gaping at Lance.

“How did you know?!” Keith hissed. Lance placed a hand on Keith's shoulder, giving him a serious look.

“By the power of friendship.” He grinned. “Also Pidge is, like, your best friend back in my universe. Star Wars is a family staple back home for them. The both of you quoted the entire movie when Pidge revealed that they have the whole series on their computer–”

“Pidge what?”

“–and we had to take a vote on watching it with Coran and Allura without you in the room.” Lance nodded, completely aware of the way that Keith was opening gaping at him.

“You...” Keith shook his head. “How are you so friendly?”

Lance's grin slipped. “Am I... not usually?”

“You're,” Keith groaned, gesturing at Lance in frustration. “Not a jerk. How are you not a jerk? You haven't even brought up that ridiculous rivalry!”

“I'm still hung up on that?” Lance considered that it was there, still. A sliver of resentment that Keith was just so natural at everything that Lance worked hard for. A sliver of anger that he kept getting compared, unfavorably, to Keith. “Look, that's – okay, so you basically got booted from the Garrison and I got boosted up to fighter class because of it. And none of the instructors ever let me forget it. You were built up like this god that I could never measure up to. It took about two weeks of near-constant comparison to you before the hate settled in.”

Keith slowed to a stop, looking at Lance like he was just noticing him. “I didn't know that.”

“I never told you?” Lance frowned. How close was the other Lance to anyone else on this team? Did he even talk to anyone outside of Hunk and Pidge? Lance knew beyond any shadow of doubt that he wasn't that kind of person, to just ignore the majority of the other people on the castle.

“We barely talk,” Keith replied, still staring at Lance quizzically. “This is the most civil conversation we've had together. And the longest we've gone without you picking a fight with me.”

“Oh, trust me, there's a good number of communication and impulse control issues about you that irritate me to no end,” Lance stated matter-of-factly. Keith balked in offense, and Lance held up his hands. “However, and this is the big thing, I come from a large family. I have watched over many small children in my day. Herding you into becoming a part of this big space family is an ongoing task that I... am now realizing may be getting a major set-back since I'm here and not-me is there, and not-me and you are me and you from three months ago which is... not good.”

Keith stared at Lance, face blank. “What?”

“Yeah, that got away from me.” Lance winced. “The point I was trying to make is that we do have a friendship back where I come from. We're kind of brothers. Even if most days I feel like a responsible mother parenting all of you alongside Coran. We are a family, and nothing can ever change that.”

Keith jerked his head in something resembling a nod, and Lance grinned. He reached up, ruffling Keith's hair. Keith squawked, batting Lance's hand away, before turning toward the wafting voices of Shiro and Allura.

“Anyway, I'm going to see if Hunk will give me a piggyback ride up to the bridge.” Lance sped up his walking, while Keith took a moment to remember where they are, and sprinted to catch up. As soon as Lance caught sight of the others he called out, “Hunk, you magnificent land mermaid!”

Hunk squinted at Lance, immediately suspicious. “What are you trying to schmooze out of me this time?”

“Piggyback ride to the bridge?” Lance put on his best puppy eyes, batting them at Hunk.

“What do I get out of it?” Lance grinned, knowing that he'd won.

“Knowledge,” Lance replied. Louder, he called out, “Pidge has all of Star Wars on their computer!”

“No I don't!” Pidge screeched, clutching their computer to their chest and glaring at Lance.

“What?” Allura pulled out of her argument with Shiro, turning to look from Lance to Pidge with intense confusion matched only by Coran. “Is this a historical document? I was unaware your planet was in contact with the rest of the known universe.”

“It's not–” Shiro paused, groaning. Lance hopped onto Hunk's back, letting his weight fall on Hunk's shoulders and against his back. Hunk hooked his arms around Lance's legs, grunting.

“Your armor is poking me,” Hunk remarked, but didn't move to put Lance down.

“Star Wars is a series of movies,” Shiro began, stepping into the elevator and looking for all the universe that he would rather be doing anything else but explaining Star Wars. “They're about this fictional galaxy where...”

“So why are we looking at these coordinates?” Lance asked the room, slipping out of Hunk's grip to stand beside Shiro.

“Yeah, you still haven't told us what they're pointing toward,” Hunk added, looking at the map pointing to the Thaldycon system, as Coran identified it.

“They were given to me by a Galra,” Shiro explained. “He helped me escape.”

“No Galra would do that,” Allura stated, glaring at Shiro. “You are obviously mistaken.”

“He set off a bomb to cover my escape,” Shiro replied, staring intently at the map. “We're going. He might have answers.”

Lance winced. Shiro's missing year was... a rough topic in both universes, it seemed. But where Lance had taken the time to get his Shiro to try to move past it, this Shiro was still stuck. He knew that, given the chance, the Shiro from his universe would want to know answers too, and he couldn't blame Shiro for that.

But still...

“But why did he help you escape?” Lance pressed. “Did he even explain that much before breaking you out?”

Shiro spared Lance a passing glance before answering. “He said that Zarkon found out that Earth had the Blue Lion. I was being sent out to get it and get it away from the Galra. These coordinates were so I could find him if I survived.”

“Shiro, are you sure you want to go to them?” Keith asked, worry heavy on his face. “After everything the Galra did to you. Your– your arm, the...”

Keith trailed off, and Shiro turned to look at him, putting his back to Lance.

“I'm positive,” Shiro declared. “We need an ally like him. Someone who can get inside the enemy's base and weaken it for us.”

“And provide the answers you're looking for,” Lance added, but Shiro didn't acknowledge that he'd said anything. Lance stepped around Shiro to stand beside Keith, making sure that Shiro couldn't ignore him.

“The Galra cannot be trusted,” Allura stated.

“You trusted them once,” Shiro retorted. “Zarkon was the Black Paladin.”

Lance winced. “That's right. He was. It's how he was able to take control of the Black Lion.”

“What, really?” Hunk and Pidge looked between everyone, trying to find some semblance of a lie.

“And he had the black bayard– your bayard,” Keith added, nodding at Shiro. “He used it to take on me and Red.”

Allura pursed her lips, but her glare didn't lessen as she said, “I don't like this, but very well. We will go to these coordinates.”

She stepped up to the main console while the chairs rose up for everyone to take their seats. Lance started toward his seat, pausing when he bumped into Shiro.

“Oh, right.” Lance glanced at his– at Shiro's seat. “Not my universe.”

“Not your universe,” Shiro agreed, staring at Lance like he wanted to say something more. Lance stared at Shiro expectantly. “You know where the right seat is.”

Lance's face fell. “I do, yeah.”

Once they were in motion, and in the wormhole, Lance glanced over at Shiro. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, and none of them, he knew, were things that Shiro wanted to talk about.

“How do we know that this Galra will be there?” Pidge asked as the Castle pulled out of the wormhole, giving them a clear view of a crystal asteroid belt. “It's been months since you broke free. For all you know, he got caught up in the bomb or was caught by someone on the ship.”

Lance nodded. Pidge had a point. Even if it was slim, the chance was still there.

“We don't even know if those memories you have are real,” Lance pointed out. “The coordinates are real, but it could be a trap.”

“Uh-huh,” Hunk agreed. “But they'd need a way to connect the technology to his brain... which they have. And a way to encode the information... which they did. And a means to implant it in the arm in the first place... which we know they did.”

“It isn't a trap.” Shiro stared out at the asteroid belt. “Ulaz said he needed a place to hide out for helping me escape. There was more than enough time helping get me out of the restraints and the bomb going off for him to make it out. He's here.”

“Ulaz?” Keith repeated. “Is that his name?”

Shiro nodded. Lance stared at the asteroid belt and around it, looking for any sign of a ship.

“Well, Number One, our scans aren't showing any signatures, life form or otherwise.” Coran glanced up from his console to look at Shiro.

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked, leaning forward. “What about in the asteroid belt?”

“The xanthorium clusters?” Coran shook his head. “Scans say they have highly unstable nitrate salt levels. One bump and anyone would be blown halfway to woblay! No one would go near them!”

“There's nothing here,” Allura said, staring at the asteroid belt distastefully. “We're leaving for a quiet system to perform repairs on the Castle.”

“Not yet,” Shiro ordered. “Let's wait. There has to be some sign or something. The coordinates can't lead to nothing. Keep running scans.”

Lance stared at the belt of xanthorium crystals. Something nagged at his mind, but when he tried to grasp at it, it slipped away from his fingers like water.

“Well,” Lance began, pulling up his screen. “At least we know this isn't a trap.”

“Small mercies,” Allura conceded. “But if anyone was ever hiding here, they're long gone.”

“Wait.” Lance blinked. “Have we tried sending a short-range communication? If this Ulaz is here, and waiting for Shiro, then why can't Shiro just send a message letting him know? He's in hiding, and we just popped up by his hiding spot without even showing a sign that we're not here to blast him to bits.”

Everyone stared at Lance, and he shrugged. Coran recovered first, moving along at his console. “Excellent idea, Lance. A short-wave communication burst can be set up easily enough.”

“It would also broadcast our location to anyone listening,” Allura interjected.

“But it would let us–” Shiro got cut off when the alarm went off. Allura pulled up the security cameras.

“There's an intruder in the castle!” Coran exclaimed.

“How did they get in?” Hunk asked, looking from person to person.

“Where did they come from?” Pidge asked, peering at the security feed.

“Klingons!” Lance shouted, snapping his fingers. Everyone looked at him in confusion. “We didn't find him or anything because it's all hidden. Cloaking technology!”

“Where is the intruder?” Shiro asked, standing.

“Level five,” Allura replied.

“Guys?” Lance looked around, at everyone standing.

“Suit up!” Shiro ordered. “We're going down and stopping whoever this is from getting any further.”

“Guys?” Lance tried again. “What if this is Ulaz?”

“If this was Ulaz, he would have sent a message first,” Shiro replied, already on the move to suit up. Hunk and Pidge were on the move too, scrambling to their stations. Allura as well, moved to suit up. “Keith, you and Lance go down and split up. Coran will keep an eye on the intruder from here. If you find them, call it in. Engage if you have to.”

“No, but what if this is Ulaz?” Lance insisted. “We have the PA system right here, all it would take is a few words from you–”

“This isn't the time, Lance.” Shiro cut him off. “Go with Keith. We'll meet you down there.”

Lance closed off, nodding sharply. “Fine. You're the leader here, after all.”

The trip down to level five was swift, and Lance was pulling Keith out of the way of the elevator doors as they slid open.

“Whoa!” Keith struggled against Lance's grip. “Hey, not again!”

“Keith, we don't know where he is.” Lance peered around the corner, seeing that the hallway was clear before letting himself and Keith leave the elevator. “Coran won't start talking until the others are down here. He doesn't have access to the helmet comms like Allura does, he'll use the Castle PA.”

“You think he wouldn't warn us if the intruder was standing outside the elevator?” Keith snorted.

“I think we shouldn't underestimate Ulaz.” Lance gestured down the hallway, settling into step beside Keith. “This way. There's an airlock he probably used to get in. Let's go check it out.”

Keith stopped, turning around and going the other way. “I'm not going with you. Shiro said to split up. We can find the intruder faster that way.”

“Keith no!” Lance reached out for him, only to be shrugged aside. “We're not splitting up!”

“We're looking for someone, we're splitting up.” Keith threw Lance a glance over his shoulder. “And remember you have a bayard in this universe.”

Keith held up his own bayard, and Lance groaned in frustration. This wasn't how he expected to be ordered around. He expected Shiro to be better than this. Lance was the planner, a tactician at heart. And he knew that the intruder was Ulaz.

Lance turned around, running down hallways. He didn't pull out the bayard, hoping to catch Ulaz and get a chance to talk. If Shiro was right – and Lance knew he was, Shiro rarely said anything he wasn't sure of – then Ulaz was a possible ally. Lance didn't want to hurt that bridge before he got confirmation that it existed.

Rounding a corner, Lance stopped when he spotted a tall figure dressed in dark grays and blacks standing in the hallway. Their back was to him, giving Lance a clear view of the blade strapped over one shoulder. Lance held up his hands, making sure to keep some distance. There was still the chance, however small, that this wasn't Ulaz.

“Guys?” Lance quietly, calmly said into the comm. “Guys, I got eyes on our guest.” Louder, he called out, “Are you Ulaz? Shiro–”

Lance leaped backward, holding his hands up as a gesture of goodwill and surrender. The figure whirled around, rushing him, and he kept backing up.

“Lance, what are you doing?” Coran called out over the PA. “ Draw your bayard. This guy's a slippery one!”

Lance hopped into a somersault as the figure jumped at him. He locked eyes with a mask, and wondered what it was that this guy was after, that he wasn't open to talking. Grabbing onto the guy's clothes, Lance tried to bring him down, but he was caught up in a strong grip and yanked off, tossed away as the figure kept moving, not interested in engaging Lance.

“Oh, you are not getting away from me!” Lance growled, using his jet and boosters to hop along the walls.

He lashed out with a kick, only for the figure to duck it and grab Lance's leg. Lance kicked with his other leg, only for that one to be caught too. Lance threw a punch to the figure's gut, but he was unfazed. Lance's blue armor gleamed against the dark fabric, and he grinned.

The bayard appeared in his hand, transforming into the rifle. Lance intended to point it at the figure's neck, to use the threat of a point-blank blast to stop the guy in his tracks, but Lance was tossed aside before the rifle was fully formed.

Rolling along the ground, Lance whirled, firing two warning shots at the ground in front of the figure. Both shots rang true, but the figure wasn't slowed down in the slightest. Lance aimed again, but the figure rounded a corner, leaving Lance to hiss out a harsh, “Quiznack!”

“Lance is in pursuit!” Coran offered commentary, and Lance wanted nothing more than for Coran to just say that Shiro was there and waiting for Ulaz. He was sure that this guy was Ulaz, and was just as sure that it would take him either meeting Shiro or hearing from Shiro to know that they weren't the enemy. “The intruder is closing in on our Green Paladin, Number Five!”

“Why can't you learn my name like you did Lance?” Pidge cried, and Lance kept firing at the ground in front of Ulaz's feet, intentionally missing. He stopped firing once he heard the echo of Pidge's voice – keeping a sharp shot was tough enough when standing still, Lance didn't want to risk a case of friendly fire at a time like this.

“Pidge, go high!” Lance called out over the comm. He lost sight of Ulaz, and heard Pidge say that they got him, then a cry of shock. Lance rounded the corner in time to see Pidge getting dragged along the floor, the grapple of their bayard wrapped around Ulaz's shoulder and not even slowing Ulaz in the slightest.

“Next up, our Yellow Paladin!” Coran cheerfully commentated. Lance fired again, interlacing his attack with Hunk's, and it slowed Ulaz enough for Pidge to regain their feet.

Lance wrapped a hand around Pidge's waist, his other curling over their bayard handle, activating his jet. The grapple line pulled taut, and Pidge's eyes widened in understanding. Their jet clicked on too, and Ulaz was effectively stopped. He strained against the grapple, but he began to slide backward. Ulaz reached for his blade, likely to cut the grapple off, and Lance muttered, “Shock him, Pidge!”

“I can grapple or I can taze,” Pidge shot back, voice straining from the effort of keeping their hold on their bayard. “I can't do both.”

The line came loose, and they both screamed as they shot into the wall. Lance got to his feet, helping Pidge back onto theirs, and together they joined up with Hunk and chased after Ulaz.

“Keith, he's coming your way!” Pidge called out, and Lance used his rockets to boost forward. He hit the wall high, bouncing from side to side, faster and faster, ahead of Pidge and Hunk.

“Keith, hold him off, I'm going to tackle him.” Lance hoped that Keith would listen, hoped that they would take to his plan. “Shiro, start moving to Keith's position. We're going to need your help.”

“I'm holding position, Lance,” Shiro replied. “Don't let him get past you, Keith.”

Lance groaned, but held back against reprimanding Shiro. He wasn't the leader here, and didn't have the authority he held back in his universe.

Bouncing around the corner, Lance saw Keith engaged with Ulaz, the two clashing swords – and then Keith hesitated, Ulaz lashing out and sending Keith sprawling into everyone. Lance pulled out the bayard, firing several warning shots all around Ulaz, and shouted, “WOULD YOU JUST STOP ALREADY! SHIRO IS HERE!”

Ulaz slowed, glancing back at Lance, before continuing around the corner. There was the sound of metal clashing and Lance started running with the rest of the team. Shiro and Ulaz stood poised, blade and arm at each other's throats. Ulaz straightened up, sheathing his blade and lowering his hood. The mask vanished, and Shiro stared in shock.

“Ulaz?” Shiro's eyes glanced at Lance, before locking onto Ulaz.

“It is good to know you survived,” Ulaz began, before he was shoved into the wall by Allura.

They stood around Ulaz in one of the lounges, his hands and feet cuffed. He'd told them about the communication base hidden within a piece of folded space, and the screen showed the base once Coran directed the Castle into the area.

“Okay, this is one of those 'I told you so' moments,” Lance began, staring at Shiro. “But I am not that petty.”

“But you are that petty,” Hunk pointed out. “Also, I call first dibs on going to the base! I want to see that gravity engine up close.”

“Me too!” Pidge bounced, stars in their eyes. “Me too!”

“Keith is coming with us,” Shiro declared. “We'll take his lion.”

“I'm staying.” Lance shrugged. “I'm still not liking this whole deal, but I don't like the idea of having all of Voltron not in the Castle.” To Ulaz, Lance added, “No offense, but you went for attacking over talking.”

“I could not be sure of your intent,” Ulaz replied. “Without Shiro I did not trust that you were open to an alliance.”

“Yeah, I'm wondering why you even snuck onto the Castle in the first place,” Lance pointed out.

“I recognized the Castle of Lions, but I had no means of knowing if you had come here for an alliance or to hunt me down.” Ulaz glanced at Shiro. “I am glad it is the former.”

“That has yet to be assured,” Allura coldly stated. “Go with him to the Red Lion. Do not let him out of his restraints.”

Ulaz silently followed the others out of the room, leaving Lance alone with Allura. They both stared at the communication base. Soon enough, the Red Lion could be spotted on screen, moving toward the base. Allura turned, moving swiftly out of the room. Lance followed, at her side.

“Zarkon was good once.” Lance tried for a conversation starter once they were in the elevator. “Otherwise he wouldn't have been chosen as the Black Paladin.”

Allura stiffened. “The qualities of each Paladin does not necessitate that the pilots will be good.”

“But he was a good person, back in the day.” Lance tried for a different tactic. “He wasn't always evil. You can't expect every Galra to be just as evil as him.”

“They're Galra,” Allura countered. “My people are gone because of them. The entirety of the known universe has been under immense danger because of them. Who knows how many other planets and peoples they have destroyed.”

“So what's the plan, then?” Lance pressed, turning to face her fully. “We don't just kill Zarkon but every other Galra out there in the universe? Match a genocide for a genocide?”

“Of course not!” Allura gaped at Lance, scandalized. “We will lock them all away. We will hold them responsible for their crimes.”

“Even the kids?” Lance asked. “Even the Galra that aren't soldiers?”

“The Galra killed my people,” Allura coldly said. “Coran and I are all that remains of a proud people and culture.”

“And that justifies doing the exact same to the Galra?” Lance snorted. “That's not defending the universe, Allura, that's–”

“It is justice.” Allura cut him off. The elevator stopped, and she stepped out, Lance following after her. “It is no less than what they all deserve.”

“It's been ten thousand years for them.” Lance trotted to stay beside Allura, but her strides grew longer and faster. “The only one left alive to have even seen your planet fall is Zarkon. I doubt any of them ever heard of your planet. You can't hold them all responsible for a tragedy performed that far in the past. That's not justice, Allura, that's vengeance.”

“What would you know of justice?” Allura growled, stomping onto the bridge.

“A lot more than you, apparently.” Lance panted as he leaned against the doorway to the bridge. “You walk really fast.” He glanced up at Allura, then past her, at where Coran was concernedly looking between Lance and Allura. “Remind us humans to tell you about some earth history when this is done. I think Allura will find it very enlightening.”

“We will focus on returning you to your universe and getting our Lance back,” Allura declared. “Once the Castle repairs are complete, it should be rather simple to fix this mess and send you back.”

“Getting rid of me won't dismiss my point,” Lance said, but felt reassured all the same. “I've been part of totalitarian regime. Locking away all your enemies just because they disagree with you never works.” He moved to sit at his seat, pausing a moment before returning over to Shiro's– the seat of the Blue Paladin. “I wasn't there so I don't know the details, but you're sounding a lot like Zarkon.”

Allura whirled to face him, eyes burning in anger. “I am nothing like Zarkon!”

“Destroying an entire people just because their leader opposes you sounds a lot like what Zarkon did to the Alteans because of your father.” Lance hated that he had to say it, hated that it needed to be said. The Allura he knew had been helped through her grief, and was moving to a point where she understood that all they needed to do was take out Zarkon and his closest circle. The Allura he knew would hesitate to say half the things that this Allura was saying.

Allura stepped back as if slapped. After a moment, all hurt left her face, leaving behind cold rage. “You have no right.”

“I know,” Lance sighed. “But it needed to be said. You're not– you're still grieving. Back in my universe, you're getting better, but you're not nearly this... upset.”

“The Galra–”

“Are not Zarkon,” Lance finished for her, giving her a sad stare. “And you shouldn't judge all of them based on the actions of Zarkon alone.”

Allura opened her mouth to reply, when the Castle's alarms started going off. She whipped toward Coran while Lance brought up the proximity alarm on the viewing screen.

“Another robeast?” Lance glanced at Allura, who fixed Ulaz's station with a hard glare. “Allura, he was hiding out here. This wasn't him.”

“Coran, recall the other Paladins.” Allura turned her attention on the robeast. “Lance, go to your Lion.”

“On it.” Lance moved toward the stage for the Black Lion.

“The Blue Lion!” Allura snapped.

“Right!” Lance turned tail, going toward Shiro's spot among the pillars.

Blue thrummed at the back of Lance's mind, and he focused on that, focused on her. He wasn't the head of Voltron here, he was the leg, the pillar of strength keeping Voltron standing. He wasn't the Black Paladin here, he was the Blue Paladin.

The Blue Lion was calming focus, keeping Lance aware of his placement. He was versatile like water, was patient and eternal, a force of nature constrained and quiet, a suppressive yet comforting entity.

Lance had Blue to thank for that, or Voltron wouldn't have even had a chance at forming.

As it stood, everything they threw at the robeast left no lasting damage. The lasers didn't work, and they couldn't get in close enough to form the sword without the threat of getting drawn in. Not even throwing the robeast into the largest xanthorium crystal and letting it get caught in the explosion did nothing.

“I'm giving it full reverse thrust,” Lance grit out. “What do we have left?”

“Me.”

Lance glanced at Ulaz's cruiser, speeding directly into the path of the robeast.

“Ulaz!” Shiro called out. “What are you doing?”

“Voltron is too valuable,” Ulaz replied. “Do not seek out the Blade of Marmora until you learn how Zarkon is able to track you. Farewell.”

“ULAZ!” Shiro's voice cracked with want, was filled with so much hurt, that it hurt Lance.

Ulaz's ship vanished into the robeast. The aperture closed, and for the longest moment, all that could be heard was Shiro's breathing over the comms.

The robeast shuddered before collapsing in on itself. The implosion was less explosive than Lance expected, leaving behind a gaping hole in the xanthorium crystal belt that anything was ever there. Not even the communication base remained, caught up in the implosion as it was.

Voltron broke apart, and Lance piloted Blue back to the Castle, not daring to speak. Everyone was quiet, and Lance focused on not hearing Shiro's quiet sobs. They hadn't won the fight. They'd lost an ally.

Shiro had lost, physically, a piece of his missing past.

Lance couldn't even hope to empathize with what Shiro was going through, with the emotions he was experiencing. He knew, if he wanted, he could tap into the bond that Voltron was formed from and get a glimpse at how Shiro was feeling, at what Shiro was feeling, but... that was too invasive, without Lance getting Shiro's explicit permission.

It didn't stop Lance from seeking out Shiro, though.

He came across Allura leaving one of the observation decks. Lance moved around her, but she reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Lance,” she began, hesitantly, softly. “I have... taken some consideration to your words. I... may have been rash, but you must understand that, for Coran and I, it has not been ten thousand years since Altea's fall. It has been barely a few spicolian movements.”

“I get it,” Lance replied, his voice lacking the bite from before. “But you need to make sure that your grieving doesn't affect how you lead us. Shiro might be the Black Paladin here but Princess, you're in charge here. You decide whether we add someone to our alliance or not. Zarkon won't go down easy. And we can't beat him by ourselves, we already know that.”

“But these Galra,” Allura began, a look of distaste crossing her face. “If they have been around as long as Ulaz said, then why is Zarkon still alive?”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe they're just like us,” he offered. “Maybe they're a tiny group of rebels fighting something much larger than they have any right to.” He paused. “Or like we're each one little lion robot and we need to come together into one single mega robot.”

Allura grimaced at the idea, before giving Lance a soft smile. “You're actually quite tolerable when you're not attempting to court me, Lance.”

“Why, Princess, I'm flattered.” Lance gave her an exaggerated bow. “But alas, my heart has been taken by another. How could I possibly offer you such grand pleasures–”

“And the tolerable feeling is gone.” Allura turned. She took two steps, before pausing and turning to stare at Lance suspiciously. “What do you mean, your heart belongs to another?”

The door to the observation deck opened, Keith stepping out. Lance was still deep in bow, while Allura faced him. Keith looked from Allura to Lance, flatly staring ahead as he walked past Lance.

“It's not what it looks like,” Allura blurted out.

“It looks like Lance just struck out again.” Keith gave Lance a bland stare. “I'll let him explain that one. I'm going to get some sleep.”

Keith hesitated in front of Lance, glancing down at him speculatively. Lance pretended not to notice, but made a note to check in on Keith later on.

Straightening up, Lance watched Keith leave, before turning to Allura. “The story of my heart is one for another day. I'm going to check in on Shiro, then catch some sleep myself. You should go too. It's been a long day.”

“I cannot be ordered around by the likes of you,” Allura primly said. “But it has been a rather long quintant. Some rest is well-deserved, if we are to perform repairs and maintenance on the Castle tomorrow.”

Lance bade Allura farewell, stepping into the observation deck.

“So.” Lance looked out at the stars. “Spot any familiar constellations?”

“If you're here to check up on me, Allura and Keith already did that.” Shiro didn't glance over at Lance, but he didn't wave Lance away.

“Actually, I'm here to make sure you get some sleep.” Lance stepped closer to Shiro. “I know you didn't want to talk about that in front of the others, but you know and I know that you aren't getting nearly enough sleep.”

“And how do you plan to fix that?” Shiro glanced at Lance, raising an eyebrow. “What mighty plan do you have ready to get me to sleep.”

“Well, I've been testing out if cuddling works, and so far it's proven to be a bit of a success.” Lance gave Shiro a soft and earnest smile. Shiro gaped at Lance.

“You– we– I–” A blush spread across Shiro's face, highlighting his scar. “Cuddle.”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “It might technically count as spooning, but I have found that being the big spoon is the best configuration.”

“Cuddle,” Shiro repeated, in full disbelief.

“I'm surprised too.” Lance held up his arms helplessly. “But you sleep through the night. Like a... not a baby, since babies never sleep through the night all the way through and I will fight anyone who uses that stupid fake phrase, but you sleep like a person who hasn't spent a year of their life in an alien gladiator arena.”

Shiro snorted, shaking his head. “I'm not cuddling you.”

“You're not saying no to me cuddling you, though.”

“No cuddling.” Shiro gave Lance a glare, but the effect was ruined by the blush still covering Shiro's face.

“Alright.” Lance held up his hands in surrender. “But if you need some sleep and want to try cuddling, my door is open.”

Lance backed out of the room, hoping that Shiro would stop him. He had gotten used to sleeping with someone else in bed, and wasn't looking forward to going back to his room alone.

It was time, Lance realized, to see what was happening with Keith.

It took Lance no less than seven tries to find Keith's room. While the fact that the Castle had a ton of rooms was ever present, Lance hadn't appreciated enough that the team had all congregated their rooms right next to each other.

He also felt too affronted that Keith's room was right next to his own to appreciate that it still took him seven tries to find the right door.

The upside, such as it was, was that Lance was treated to knowing that Hunk and Pidge were already well on their way to sleeping – even if Hunk was cuddling a half-undone servo and Pidge was draped over their computer. Shiro's room was empty, but Lance wasn't expecting to see Shiro there for a while yet.

Lance knocked in Keith's door, giving him a moment to decide if he wanted to talk. If the door remained shut, that was that. If the door opened... Lance wasn't going to push, but Keith clearly looked like he wanted to talk about something.

The door opened.

“Lance?”

Exhaustion made Keith look smaller, somehow. It also made his kicked puppy expression look that much more effective.

“Hey.” Lance waved. “I wanted to check up on you. You looked liked you wanted to talk.”

Keith winced, glancing back at his bed. “I... no?”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “You don't sound too sure there.”

“No.” Keith sounded firmer. “Definitely not.”

“Alright.” Lance turned to leave.

“Wait!” Lance paused. He glanced at Keith, who stared at Lance with soft kicked puppy mixed with why-did-you-stop-the-scritches. “That's it? You're not going to ask?”

“I didn't think you wanted me to ask.” Lance gave Keith a sympathetic look. “I'm not going to push. If you want to talk, do it when you want to.” Lance shook his head. “Don't feel like you have to tell me, dude. Talk to me when you want to talk to me.”

Keith nodded, and looked like a solidly kicked puppy. “But I thought– you said we were family.”

“And we are,” Lance confirmed. “But this is the soft family. If you were being stubborn and not telling anyone when it's obvious that you should, I would be shoving you aside and rifling through the space under your mattress for all your secrets. But you're not being stubborn, so I'm not digging through a mattress made of lies for the truth.”

“...I have questions.” Keith squinted at Lance.

“Yes, I have been on both sides of that mattress issue,” Lance replied. “No, English is not my first language. At least, I don't think it is? It's one of those strange things where I spent my formative years speaking Spanish until the family emigrated, and then I spent the rest of my life speaking English around other native English speakers until, like, my accent vanished.”

“...I have questions,” Keith repeated. “And those answer less questions than I actually have.”

“Is it about the you from my universe?” Lance asked. “Because you're almost exactly the same. Minus your friendship with Pidge. Putting the both of you together to shut the hanger on the Balmera remains the best and worst decision I have ever made.”

“You weren't there?” Keith glanced back at his mattress. “You don't know what happened?”

“...is this about the thing you feel you need to talk about?” Lance raised his eyebrows questioningly. After a moment, Keith nodded.

“I want to talk about it.” Keith hesitated. “I probably should talk about it.”

“Look,” Lance sighed. “We're dancing around the issue. I'm tired, and I want to try to get some sleep before we have to get up for the Castle repairs. Lighting round, answer without thinking. Do you want to talk about this thing that's bothering you?”

“No.” Keith blinked, surprised at himself. Lance nodded.

“There we have it.” Lance turned away, heading toward his own door. “Sleep on it, and if you still feel like you have to tell me in the morning, then we can talk.”

Lance left Keith standing in his doorway as he entered his own room.

Lance had his routine down to a science, face mask applied and hair wrapped up in under ten minutes. He was glad that even this other Lance had managed to find the skin care products, and the face mask. He spotted the little blue lion slippers, and spent a couple minutes laughing and dancing around wearing them.

The fact that he hadn't yet found little black lion slippers back in his own universe, despite knowing that Hunk (and now Shiro) had their own lion slippers, gave him the amazing image of Zarkon wearing the missing black lion slippers. Lance wondered if this Shiro had found the black lion slippers, and if so, wondered about the likelihood that Lance could wear them.

It was almost enough to make him forget about the empty bed.

The past month was spent spooning Shiro, and he had quickly gotten used to sharing a bed with someone. The feel of someone else in the same room, the white noise of their breathing, was a comfort that Lance craved – and one that he knew that Shiro craved. They had taken to each other, to the comfort and security of a warm body against one another, and now...

Now Lance couldn't sleep without Shiro there. He laid in bed, face mask applied, the sleep mask on, but still sleep wouldn't come. He was exhausted, had been yawning every other breath leading up to him laying in bed, but still he couldn't sleep.

He wanted to get up, wanted to find Shiro and guilt him into coming to bed, but.

But this wasn't his universe. This wasn't his Shiro. It wouldn't be right to treat this Shiro like his Shiro. Not for Shiro, and not for the other Lance.

He wanted to go home. To his Shiro. To his team.

Lance got up, nearly ripping the sleep mask off his face, and left the room. He wandered, hovering in front of the door to Shiro's room before turning away. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't do this.

The door opened.

“Lance.” He winced, turning to looked sheepishly at Shiro.

“Hey.” Lance gave him a half-hearted wave. Shiro was still in his armor. “Can't sleep?”

Shiro glanced down at his armor before fixing Lance with a concerned stare. “What about you?”

Lance hesitated. He was the leader, the Black Paladin, but he also wasn't. Not here. Moreover, this was Shiro. A different Shiro from a different universe, but still at his heart the same Shiro. “I couldn't sleep. I got too used to falling asleep with another body at my side.”

Shiro winced. “If you really wanted to–”

“No!” Lance waved his hands, wincing at how loudly he shut down Shiro. He glanced away, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “No. I don't – it's always been about you, and since you aren't the same Shiro I don't – it wouldn't be fair for you or your Lance if we– If I–”

“Lance.” Shiro reached out, making to touch Lance's jaw, before settling on his shoulder. “I don't know what you're thinking about. But you're a part of this team, no matter what universe you're from. If you need help with something, just ask.”

“Like you?” Lance flushed with embarrassment when Shiro winced. “Sorry. It's just– I'm used to taking care of my own problems.”

Why was he telling Shiro this? Why was he still talking? This was too much, too personal.

Lance laughed. “I'm tired. I'm rambling.”

Shiro let out a long-suffering sigh, stepping aside and waving his arm. “Come in. If it really means that much to you, get in. We're sleeping in the same room. We're not cuddling.”

“No cuddling,” Lance agreed as he walked into Shiro's room.

Chapter Text

Sitting in the mess hall, Lance absently stirred the bowl of food goo sitting before him. The rest of the team were seated at the table around him, Coran and Allura included. The mice stood in a row before him, waiting to be offered a spoonful of goo. His stomach grumbled, winning the silent bidding war, and Lance held up a spoonful of food goo. He took a bite, expecting the familiar bitter tang, and let out a cry of surprise.

“Flavor!” He spoke around the spoon and food, looking at Hunk in shock. Lance chewed and swallowed. “This has flavor! Like, actual flavor! You figured out the goo settings?”

Hunk furrowed his brow before preening. “What? No. We've still got some stores left over from Arus.”

“You got food from Arus?” Lance peered at Hunk, then behind him at the kitchen. “When did this happen?”

Hunk shared a look with Shiro, before gently asking, “Lance, did you not go foraging back in your universe?”

Lance paused between bites. “Uh, no? We didn't have time. Shiro and Allura kept pushing us to train, and then there was that mechabot, and the Arusian celebration, and... no. We didn't have time.”

“Well, we certainly have time now,” Allura said. “The teludav needs to rest before we can make this jump. Although I don't believe we should go there.”

“And I don't either,” Lance agreed. “This sounds easy, and I don't trust anything that sounds or looks easy. How much do we really know about this Galra?”

“His name is Ulaz,” Shiro popped in. His prosthetic lay on the table, a cord connecting it to Pidge's laptop from the back of the wrist. “He helped me escape. He told me to get to the Blue Lion and to go to those coordinates.”

“Which, I don't buy.” Pidge looked up from their laptop, running the decrypting process. “It's been months. And if this Galra–”

“Ulaz,” Shiro repeated, insistent.

“Yeah, yeah. If this Ulaz guy wanted to keep the Blue Lion out of the way, then why didn't he go for Blue himself?” Pidge tapped away, squinting. Lines of code reflected off of their glasses, reminding Lance of when the sim malfunctioned.

“I am the Blue Paladin,” Shiro offered. “I think... Zarkon knew that already. I can't think of any other reason to have me on the ship heading for the Blue Lion.”

Lance nodded. Shiro made a solid point. Once Shiro had talked about the arena, it had been a nagging wonder. A question of why. Why had Shiro gone from the arena to a fleet cruiser bound for Earth? Why wait a year between taking the Kerberos crew and returning to Earth?

But this universe... it made a lot more sense. Offered a lot more answers.

“You guys are being pretty chill about this.” Lance blinked when the words registered. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. Wincing, Lance elaborated. “I mean, you learned that I did a bodyswap with your Lance and you're taking it pretty well. Aren't you worried for him?”

Aren't you worried for me?

Is my own team worried for me?

“You – he – Lance – you – ugh.” Hunk groaned. “This is the worst case of pronoun questioning. Because you're Lance, but he's Lance, but he's you, but he's not you.”

“Third person for any other Lance is alright, Hunk,” Lance assured him. “Make it clear that you're talking about your Lance and not me Lance.” Lance paused. “Me, who is a Lance. Man, that is hard.” Lance shook his head, offering his spoonful of goo to the mice. Chuchule and Platt squeaked, moving forward the nibble at the goo. “Anyway. Are you worried for him?”

“Not really,” Pidge said. “Like, our Lance is a dork, but he's...”

Pidge trailed off, waving their hand in the air. Keith nodded, eyes brightening. “Yeah! He's like Batman!”

Lance squawked. He pointed at Keith accusingly, Platt and Chuchule letting out sad squeaks at the loss of the food. “Okay, first up, I am not Batman. Second, if you're going to compare me to any fictional character, I'm Captain Kirk. He's more awesome than Batman ever will be.”

Keith gaped, before glaring. “Batman is–”

“Third,” Lance continued, eating the spoonful of goo and speaking between bites. “Third, I...” Lance dramatically paused. Everyone leaned forward, waiting for the point as he took another bite of goo. He swallowed. “I haven't actually got a third point. I just wanted to get you to stop.”

Everyone fell, and Shiro snickered. Lance gaped at Shiro, the food goo forgotten. Shiro stopped, staring at Lance in concern. “ What? You look like you've never seen me smile or laugh.”

“I–” Lance scrambled for words. “No. I haven't. You don't, generally. I think you laughed way back during our goo fight with Allura, but I was too busy using Keith to shield my face to really notice.”

“What?” Shiro frowned, sharing another look with Hunk.

“And that.” Lance pointed between the two. “What is that? Are you guys friends? Was there some sort of bonding moment between you two?”

“Lance,” Allura began, sounding far too diplomatic and delicate for Lance's liking. “Our Lance was... insistent on team building exercises. It has helped bring the Paladins together much more effectively than any combat exercises I could have come up with, or are recorded in the Castle's database.”

“That... sounds like me.” Lance nodded. “Getting back on point, how are we going to reverse this?” Lance gestured at all of himself. “Because as fun as this is turning out to be, I don't want to be stuck in this universe forever.”

“The Castle will need repairing before we can begin to analyze the data from the corrupted wormhole,” Coran said. “From there it's a simple matter of discovering a way to recreate it and sending you through!”

“And that will work?” Lance glanced at Hunk and Pidge. “Wasn't the only reason it could work in the first place that both universes experienced that corrupted wormhole?”

“Which is why we need to study the data the Castle collected.” Allura straightened up, then shivered. “I am not looking forward to experiencing another cross-dimensional loop.”

On the table, the mice nodded.

“But first we're looking into the coordinates,” Shiro interrupted, looking at Allura pointedly. “As soon as Pidge decodes them–”

“HA!” Pidge crowed. “Got it! I got you, you quiznacking–”

“Pidge!” Keith interrupted. “Not in front of the Alteans.”

Pidge glanced up at Keith, then at Allura and Coran, who were glancing between the two curiously. “Right. The one-way street.”

Keith glanced at Lance, making him feel like he missed something. “Right.”

Lance leaned over to whisper at Hunk. “What just happened?”

“We had a talk and decided not to swear in front of the Alteans.” Hunk paused. “Or you. You get really offended.”

“Catholic upbringing,” Lance explained with a wave of the hand. “I don't even know what half the swear words are.”

Pidge froze, squinting at Lance before sharing a look with Keith. Hunk noticed, and frowned.

“Whoa, hey, no.” Hunk wagged a finger at them. “No corrupting fearless leader.”

“I was joking,” Lance muttered into a spoonful of food goo. “I know what the swears are.”

Shiro patted Lance on the shoulder. “Of course you do.”

Lance choked on the goo, not expecting the contact. Shiro pulled back, and Lance managed not to die by asphyxiation for the second time in as many days.

He hoped that wasn't the start of a worrying trend.

“So!” Lance set the spoon down and clapped his hands. “Let's head up to the bridge and take a look at these coordinates.”

The bridge looked different from Shiro's seat. Mainly, it was a crick in the neck, because he had to turn to look at anyone. Lance didn't know how Shiro did it, and he knew even less how his other self did it. The seat felt lonely because of it, and reminded Lance of sitting in the pilot's seat of the Garrison sim cruiser.

“The coordinates that Pidge found are in the Thaldycon system,” Coran explained, bringing the star map up. Lance squinted at it, at the lack of any labeled planets there.

“Is it empty?” Lance asked, looking ahead at Coran. “I don't see any planet names or anything there.”

“Quite right.” Coran nodded. “This part of the system doesn't have any planets considered viable by the Galra. No resources, you see. Why, Allura's grandfather, King Alfangor, once traveled there to–”

“Now is not the time, Coran,” Allura interrupted. “The coordinates are locked in. The teludav is still taxed, so once we make the jump we won't be able to form another wormhole for almost an entire quintant.”

Lane turned in the seat, looking at Shiro in the Blue Paladin's seat – the place Lance should be seated. “And you're sure that Ulaz will be hiding out there?”

“He mentioned going into hiding at these coordinates when he broke me out,” Shiro confirmed. “He's there.”

Lance nodded. Slipping into the role of pilot was simple enough. It meant that he had to take stock and remain calm. It meant that he had to keep aware of the full scope of the mission, and delegate anything else that didn't require his immediate attention.

He may have clawed his way through the ranks of pilots, but the one thing that none of the instructors could find fault in was his professionalism. What little praise he got when Iverson called on him that first day of fighter pilots classes was how he prioritized and acted when in the pilot's seat, an exemplary leader as all pilots should be.

Really, Lance had his experience with his family to thank for that. He was a middle child, so he knew how it felt to be led around and be the one doing the leading. In the sim, Lance made sure that Pidge and Hunk, for all their fun and personal issues, were redirected onto the proper priorities. In the abstract sense, Lance could see how it all added up into him being a decent leader.

Realistically, however, Lance couldn't see how it meant he was a good leader of Voltron. The team just as much ignored him as listened to him, and even then they didn't follow his suggestions or hear him out.

Black sang at the back of Lance's mind, soothing and appealing. He got the sense that she was comforting him, that she was comparing him to an albatross, of all things. The comparison poked at his childhood, but Lance couldn't grasp at the memory, slipping through his fingers like the wind that Black sang.

Lance pushed it all aside, asking, “So he's in hiding? Then we're going to have to let him know that we're not the enemy.”

“That would assume that we are not his enemy,” Allura commented.

“Maybe we can send a message when we get there,” Lance thought aloud. “Shiro's the one he told to come, and if he's paranoid about unknowns finding him like he should be, then someone familiar should get a leg up for us.”

On screen, a wormhole appeared, the Castle swiftly moving toward it.

“We could just as easily be heading into a trap.” Allura's words were spoken lightly, but they held a heavy weight to them.

“We'll cross that bridge when we got to it.” Pidge glanced at Shiro. “How do you even know that your Galra friend is even there? It's been months. He could have been killed, or he could have been found already.”

I think he was too careful for that.” Shiro looked at the wormhole intently. “He was betraying Zarkon by freeing me. He had to have an escape plan in place, and whatever his hiding place is, it's good enough that he knew that I would go to it.”

“Do you think he knew that you might forget?” Keith asked. “You don't know if he was waiting for you to get the Blue Lion and make a break for the coordinates immediately after.”

“For that matter,” Hunk added, “why didn't he go with you to Earth?”

“I think that falls under the distraction side of things, Hunk,” Lance pointed out. “You can't hide an escape if you're with the person doing the escaping.”

“This is all presuming that there is, in fact, a Galra traitor.” Allura's declaration brought an end to the speculation, and Lance tried to settle in for the trip, but couldn't find a comfortable way to sit. He settled for being ramrod straight, hands locked in a white-knuckle grip with the armrests.

They came out of the wormhole a short distance away from the coordinates, looking upon a massive crystal asteroid belt. Lance glanced for any sign of a ship, but couldn't spot anything. His grip on the chair loosened, and Lance leaned forward. Screens appeared in front of him, and Lance went to work, pulling up a smaller version of the video feed. He looked closely at the crystals, looked for the glint of metal among the glimmer of crystals reflecting off each other, but saw nothing.

“It's an asteroid belt,” Lance remarked. “That's... well, there are worse hiding places. Ulaz must be a good pilot to get hid out in that.”

“He wouldn't,” Coran said, pulling a scan up onto the main screen. The crystals zoomed in, and one was analyzed. “These are xanthorium clusters. Our scans indicate that they have highly volatile levels of nitrate salts. Knock into one and it could blast you halfway to woblay!”

“Behind it then?” Shiro asked, his voice heavy with desperation. “Do the scans pick up any ships?”

“I don't see any wreckage,” Pidge spoke up. “So I doubt he ran into one of these crystals and blew up.”

“Our scans aren't picking anything up, lifesigns or otherwise.” Coran looked back at them. “We're the only ones here.”

“Well, quiznack.” Lance glanced over at Shiro, prepared to offer his support. This was a tie to Shiro's missing past, and Lance knew how much that meant to him. Heck, the entire team knew how much getting those memories back were for him. Even if this was a different universe, even if Shiro wasn't the leader, Lance figured that it was the same here as it was back in his own universe. He wasn't even sure where to begin beyond an apology, but Lance wasn't going to go down without trying.

The words died in Lance's throat when he saw how heartbroken Shiro was. Shiro's gaze, shaky and on the brink of tears, met Lance's.

“How about,” Lance began slowly, feeling the weight of every word as they tumbled off his tongue, “we stick around the area for a while. It's clearly not a trap, and we can take the time to do some more scans of the area. Maybe even catalog some of the repairs the Castle needs.”

As excuses went, it wasn't much of one. Lance felt like was just stating facts, but from the way Shiro's gaze softened, from the way he nodded, from how utterly grateful he looked, it meant everything to Shiro.

Lance looked away, the raw emotion Shiro was sending his way too much for him to handle.

I can do this. I can do this. Lance repeated the mantra, settling back in the seat and parsing through the scans. He couldn't read the Altean, doubted that anyone else could, but it was better than nothing. Allura and Coran knew the Castle and how it worked better than any of the humans, and he left them to do a run through of the Castle's systems.

Black continued the comforting albatross song, in the back of his mind.

Lance was squinting at the asteroid belt, gaze caught on the shimmer of this one patch of the clusters, when the alarms went off.

“There's an intruder in the Castle!” Coran exclaimed. Lance stood, looking up at Allura as she pulled up the security footage.

“How did they get in?” Lance looked from Coran to Allura. “Where did they come from?”

“The intruder is on level five,” Allura tapped the set of security feeds onto the screen, and Lance looked up at a familiar set of hallways.

“Oh,” Lance said. “That's how they got in.”

“What?” Hunk stared at the intruder as they moved down the hallways. “What's happening? Is this an attack?”

“There's an airlock down there,” Lance said. He looked at Coran. “Did the scans pick anything up?”

Coran rapidly typed at his console. “That airlock does show signs of use. But it isn't registering anything attached to us, and the scans still don't show any sign of a ship.”

“Then...” Lance glanced at Allura before focusing on Shiro. “Your friend. Ulaz. You said he was hiding out here?”

“I did.” Shiro tore his gaze away from the security footage to look at Lance. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking we suit up,” Lance replied, stepping away from the seat. “And that we just found your friend.”

“”But where did he come from?” Pidge asked, halfway to their armor. Keith was already there, the door closing for him to slip into his armor. “Why didn't we pick him up before now? That wasn't ordinary camouflage.”

“Kingons!” Lance exclaimed, moving toward his armor. “Cloaking technology! That's why we didn't find him before. He–”

Lance knocked into Shiro, stumbling over the larger teen. Shiro took hold of Lance by the arms, gently helping steady him.

“Other way, Lance,” Shiro said, turning Lance around.

“Right.” Lance nodded, moving toward where he knew Shiro's – where the Black Paladin armor was held.

Wearing the armor felt strange, because it felt so normal. There was nothing different about the fit from the blue armor Lance was used to, but he couldn't get over how strange it was to look down and see black instead of blue. It felt like he was putting on a Fleet Admiral's uniform that he hadn't earned. It felt like a rank he didn't deserve.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to earn it anyway. There were no swaps out in space, no take-backsies. Not with Voltron, at least. Lance, however, was an entirely different story.

Here, he was the Black Paladin, and he couldn't afford to loosen up like he wanted.

Lance stared at the helmet, saw himself reflected in the visor. He was glad for the privacy, however brief, that he could take the time to compose himself. He was the leader, the decisive head of Voltron.

I can do this. I can do this.

Lance stepped out to see everyone in armor, including Allura.

“Okay,” Lance clapped the helmet on. “Is our guy still on the move?”

“He's stopped. Still on level five, near the training room.” Coran remained at the console, the security feeds up on the screen. “Hasn't moved since we shut off the castle alarms.”

“He wanted our attention.” Hunk looked at Lance. “Why did he want our attention?”

“Why didn't he call us up?” Pidge drew their bayard, holding it up. “This guy has to be an enemy. I'm calling trap.”

“He could be bait,” Keith pointed out, his own bayard in his hand. Lance reached for his hip before realizing that he didn't have a bayard here. He was the Black Paladin.

How did he even fight without a bayard?

“Okay, here's the plan,” Lance began, looking over everyone. “Pidge, you take to the vents. Get above him, or as close to it. If things go wrong, use your grapple and taze him.”

“I can grapple or taze, not both,” Pidge said, nodding. They had a sly grin on their face.

“Hunk, you stay back behind Shiro. Don't shoot unless things go bad.” Lance's fingers itched for his bayard. “Shiro's our best fighter, and if this is Ulaz, then we're going to want you to be the first face he sees.

“Keith and Allura,” Lance hesitated. “Circle around, get behind him. Stay out of sight. Don't attack unless you see otherwise. We can't talk to him if he's dead.”

“And yourself?” Allura didn't look happy, but didn't contest Lance's orders. He felt a twist to his gut, a mix of pride and shame that everyone was listening to him for orders.

“I...” Lance glanced back at the screens. “I'll be right beside Shiro the whole way. Someone's got to represent Voltron, and who better than the Black Paladin.” Lance grinned. “Don't worry about what you hear, Princess. I've only got eyes for you.”

Allura's face went neutral, and Shiro... Lance winced as Shiro closed off, the hints of hurt in his eyes.

Professionalism. Right. He was the Black Paladin.

I can do this.

Pidge slid into the air vents outside of the bridge with a dark promise of raining pain if things went sour, leaving the rest of the Paladins to ride the elevator down to level five. Lance's fingers still itched with the desire for his bayard, for the pale ghost of something familiar.

He glanced at Shiro's right hand, wondering what his bayard was. Lance wondered if Shiro knew about that arm glowing thing he could do, of even if he knew about how his hand had access to Galra systems.

Shiro noticed Lance staring, and smiled, reaching out – and took Lance's hand in his own. Lance's brain froze. He stared at Shiro's hand wrapping around his, stared at Shiro's fingers twining between his own.

“Hey.” Lance tore his gaze up at Shiro's face. Shiro gazed at Lance with a fond smile and soft eyes, and Lance could feel his soul slowly leaving his body and ascending into a new plane of existence. “It's going to be alright.”

Behind them, Hunk made a fake gagging noise, while Keith growled and Allura made a soft cooing noise.

“What is happening?!” Lance asked, louder and more hysterical than he intended. Shiro winced, pulling his hand apart and away from Lance's. “I just– you just– we– that–” Lance paused, staring forward at the elevator door to compose himself. “Are we a– a thing? Is that a normal thing between you and your Lance?”

“It's nothing, I'm sorry.” Shiro apologized, setting his hand at his side. “You just looked a little–”

“Lost?” Lance offered, looking at Shiro from the corner of his eye. “I'm making my peace with fighting without a bayard. And, you know, I'm still adjusting to this whole universe change.”

Behind him, Hunk groaned, and Lance glanced back to see him place his head in his hands. Lance squinted, but figured that it had to do with whatever was going on with the other Lance and Shiro. Which, Lance was not wanting to touch that bushel of bananas.

The elevator stopped, and everyone got out. Lance and Shiro turned in one direction while Allura and Keith went the other. Coran guided them over the comms, letting them know when to turn left or right or go straight ahead.

Lance wished he had his bayard, wished he had something more than the suit. He could throw a punch if he needed to, and was scrappy enough to lunge and grapple with anyone decently enough, but he wanted the comfort of his bayard, of his rifle, in his hands.

“Do you want to borrow my bayard?”

Lance jumped at the question, looking over to see Shiro holding out the blue bayard.

“I– no.” Lance shook his head, reaching out to push Shiro's outstretched hand back toward him. “I mean yes, having a weapon in my hands would be great, but... that's yours.” Lance gave Shiro a half-hearted grin. “I can't use it.”

Shiro frowned. “Yes, you can. You picked it up and used it to shoot Sendak in the back. It's how we learned that you can use any of our bayards if you wanted.”

“I can?” Lance stared from the bayard to Shiro. “But– it's still your bayard. I couldn't–”

Shiro sighed, dropping his hand to his side. The bayard vanished, and Lance's gaze lingered on Shiro's now-empty hand. “I figured you'd say no. You – our Lance – didn't want to when I offered either.”

“So what am I like?” Lance asked. “The other me, I mean. Your Lance. What kind of leader am I like?”

“You don't know?” Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“I can guess.” Lance tapped off his fingers. “You guys talk a lot more to each other than I'm used to. You've been on foraging missions together. And I know that you listen to my plans, but...” Lance groaned, reaching up and clutching at air. “What kind of leader is he?”

“Lance.” Shiro put his hand on Lance's shoulder, stopping them both. “You're a great leader. Allura and Coran are really impressed with your plans and we're... we're a family. You made us a family. You're so important to this team, I can't imagine what we would do without you.”

Lance puffed up, even as he felt a piece of himself die a little. The other Lance had done so much for this other Voltron, while Lance... wasn't much. He was trying, honestly, but some days he had to convince himself that Voltron wouldn't even exist if he hadn't taken Hunk to bond with Pidge, if he hadn't gone after Pidge.

He was Blue's pilot, and it was because he was the Blue Paladin that Voltron was able to fight Zarkon and the Galra empire. Lance wanted to believe that intergalactic history books would have more than just a small footnote about the Blue Paladin being integral for bringing the other paladins together.

“Well,” Lance said, voice full of bravado, “I am an important member of Voltron.”

They rounded the corner, stopping when they saw the intruder, his back to them. Lance's fingers itched again, wanting the weight of his rifle. He felt too exposed without his bayard.

Lance shared a glance with Shiro, gesturing at the intruder. Shiro shook his head, giving Lance a pointed look and sharply jerking his head at the intruder. Lance stared at Shiro, slapped a hand to his face, and stepped forward.

“Hello?” Lance called out. The figure looked tall, almost three meters in height, with a blade over one shoulder. “Are you Ulaz?”

The figure turned, a heavy mask with glowing purple eyes blocking their identity. Lance gave the figure a tentative grin. He didn't glance behind him at Shiro, trusting that the older teen was still there. Lance could only hope that if Shiro recognized this person as Ulaz, he would say as much.

“So we're Voltron,” Lance continued when the figure didn't reply. “You're probably wondering what we're doing here. Well–”

The figure rushed Lance, drawing their blade. Down the hallway, Lance saw Allura and Keith round the corner. Keith's bayard was drawn, and Lance jumped back, tripping and falling backward. He watched everything happen in slow motion.

Shiro was rushing forward, and a plasma blast – Hunk, Lance's personal lifesaver – was dodged. Allura sidestepped the shot, picking up and tossing Keith with one hand. The blue bayard was in Shiro's hand, transforming into a lance, of all things. The blade was a vibrant blue, and lines of glowing blue trailed all the way to the center, where Shiro had his grip.

Shiro swung the lance, the staff catching the figure's blade before it could hit Lance. The blade skidded along the staff toward Shiro, sparks flaring above Lance's head. Shiro adjusted his grip, right arm lashing out to catch the blade. Lance rolled away from the two, offering a kick at the figure's legs, only for the figure to jump up and over both Lance and Shiro.

With a roar, Keith dropped down swinging. The figure spun, placing one hand on Shiro's head as a brace, and blocked Keith's attack with their blade. Shiro ducked from the weight, falling to his knees. Keith's blocked attack sent him off-balance, and he collapsed to the floor beside Shiro.

Shiro's helmet came loose, falling away as the figure landed behind him. Lance let out a shout, getting to his feet and rushing the figure as they spun, blade at the ready to slice.

“SHIRO!” Lance screamed, knowing he wasn't fast enough to stop–

The blade stopped, inches from Shiro's neck. Lance saw it, saw Keith leap up and move to attack.

“Keith!” Lance cried, and saw Keith hesitate when the blade came into view. “Stop!”

The blade came away from Shiro's neck, the figure straightening up. The blade was sheathed, both hands coming up to pull down the hood. The mask shimmered and vanished, the galra's ears popping out.

“Shiro?” Ulaz – at least, Lance figured this was Ulaz – looked down at Shiro in surprise.

Allura came from behind, shoving Ulaz against the wall – again, with one hand.

“Wait!” Lance scrambled to his feet. “Allura, that's–”

“Ulaz,” Shiro breathed, staring at Ulaz in awe.

“You attacked my paladins,” Allura hissed. “You will explain yourself before I decide to shove you out of the nearest airlock without your protective suit.”

Ulaz nodded. “Of course.”

“I am glad to see that you survived.”

Ulaz sat in a lounge, his hands and feet cuffed. Everyone stood around him, waiting for an explanation. Shiro stood at the forefront, his helmet tucked under one arm, Lance just behind him.

“Why did you attack us?” Shiro asked. Lance had opted to take a backseat for the interrogation, since Ulaz was more familiar with Shiro than anyone else in the Castle.

“Word came that Voltron was back and opposing the empire but,” Ulaz paused. “I was unaware if our gamble on you was successful or if another human discovered the Blue Lion. I am grateful that it succeeded.”

“That does not explain why you attacked my paladins,” Allura growled.

“I had no reason to believe that Voltron would seek an alliance with the Blade of Marmora,” Ulaz explained. “I infiltrated your ship to discover if Shiro had succeeded or not.”

“He was standing right in front of you and you didn't say a thing.” Lance snorted.

“Your helmets make it difficult to identify separate humans,” Ulaz dryly answered.

“How did you think we found you, then?” Lance asked. “Why did you think we knew your name?”

“Your species has a difficult history with diplomacy,” Ulaz replied, looking at Lance speculatively. “Earth invasion stories are the greatest comedies among the known universe in decapheebs. There are many who take it as a warning and have decided to remain away from your system.”

Lance stared. “So you're telling me that the prime directive applies to Earth?”

Ulaz matched Lance's gaze, bemused. “What is a prime directive?”

“Nevermind,” Lance waved it away. “Where did you come from? Why did you help Shiro escape?”

“I helped Shiro escape because I suspected he was capable of piloting the Blue Lion.” Ulaz looked at Shiro. “It appears I was correct in my suspicions.

“And I came from a base. Hidden directly before you.” Ulaz leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Go forward, and you will find it.”

“We will not,” Allura coldly declared. “The xanthorium clusters–”

“My base is in front of them,” Ulaz interrupted. “Hidden in a pocket of folded space. Your ship appeared directly in front of it.”

“Folded space?” Hunk perked up. “Like a space taco? Or a wonton? A wonton in soup?”

“Food tangent later, Hunk,” Lance pointed out. He directed his attention on Ulaz. “For now, let's see if this secret base exists.”

“It does,” Ulaz insisted. Around them, the walls flickered into a screen of the ship's surroundings. Lance saw the xanthorium crystals, saw the same shimmer – in the same spot. Lance narrowed his eyes.

“Coran,” Allura called out. “Forward thrust, slowly.”

“Coran, do you see that shimmer?” Lance called out. “Directly ahead, it looks like waves of heat. Aim for that.”

The Castle started to move, and Lance felt his chest tighten. He hoped he was right, hoped they weren't–

The space around them shifted into a kaleidoscope of color before settling into a bubble, at the center a skeletal spaceship.

“That is communications base Thaldycon,” Ulaz explained. “It is kept hidden by a gravity engine. I have been hiding here since I broke Shiro out. If you allow it, I can go and contact my allies so an alliance between The Blade and Voltron will happen.”

“I'm going,” Shiro declared, and Lance nodded. Shiro was determined to ask Ulaz all sorts of questions about his missing year; Lance didn't want to get in the way of that.

“Me too!” Pidge hopped up and down. “I want to see how the gravity engine works.”

“And me!” Hunk raised his hand. “Gravity engine sounds so awesome.”

Keith stepped forward, to Shiro's side. “We can take Red. She's the fastest.”

“That's a good idea. I'll stay back,” Lance said, eying Ulaz. “Someone should stay back with the princess.”

Allura gave Lance a disparaging look, but didn't argue. “Do not stray far from the Red Lion. I still do not believe that this Ulaz is on our side.”

“Understandable,” Ulaz agreed. “Our mutal enemy is Zarkon. You have nothing to fear from me.”

Lance noted that Ulaz didn't mention his allies, or whatever group he worked with.

Lance stood beside Allura on the bridge, watching the Red Lion fly out toward the base.

“So,” Lance began, his voice uncertain, “you're a lot less... violent toward the Galra than the you from my universe.”

Allura looked at Lance from the corner of her eye, not turning away from where Red was landing on the base. “The Lance I know has a much more amicable relationship with me.” She frowned. “There is far less flirting, to begin with.”

Lance gave her a smirk. “You miss it?”

“Not in the slightest.” Allura shut him down. “Nor does Shiro.”

Lance paused, remembering the lingering looks Shiro gave him. His hand tingled in memory of the feel of Shiro's hand. “Is he– are we–” Lance looked at his hand, then at Allura. “Are we close? Me and Shiro?”

His chest felt tight, butterflies filling his stomach. Lance wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer, but knew that he needed to know the answer. Shiro was his hero, the youngest person to ever graduate from the Galaxy Garrison, the inspiration that pushed Lance toward applying for the fighter pilot track.

Allura turned toward Lance. Coran paused, glancing back at them before turning his attention to the console in front of him, humming something that sounded like a cross between hard rock and opera.

“Lance,” Allura began, tentative. She looked him in the eye, searching – but for what, Lance couldn't tell. “Are you and Shiro close in your universe?”

Lance paused, taken aback. He laughed, raising an arm between them. “Are you kidding? We're– we're great! Shiro's great. He's a great leader.”

“Lance.” Allura stared at Lance in concern. “You haven't answered my question.”

“We don't–” Lance paused, considering his words. “We're a part of Voltron. We all train together, you know.”

“But have you talked to Shiro?” Allura pressed. “At all? Has he talked to you at all?”

Lance's laughter petered out, and he lowered his arm. “He's not... I'm not...”

He wanted to lie. He wanted to misdirect her, wanted to get her attention elsewhere. This was Allura, the princess, the most important person in the Castle. If he told her anything, she would want him to fix things, would meddle and try to get Shiro to fix things.

But then again, this wasn't the Allura he knew. This wasn't the Shiro he knew. This wasn't – none of them were the people he knew. This wasn't his team.

Lance's problems weren't important to them. His problems weren't anywhere near as important as anyone else's problems. Pidge was still focused on finding the Holts for whatever reason – they hadn't mentioned it, although Lance suspected that they were related to the Holts. Keith was focused on saving the universe and keeping Shiro close by. Shiro was recovering from a year in Galra captivity. Hunk... Hunk was finding his place in saving people's planets. Allura and Coran had lost theirs.

What did it matter, against all that, that Lance missed his home? That Lance hadn't yet found his place on the team? That Lance didn't have a driving force beyond a desire to help others?

“You didn't answer my question,” Lance eventually said. “About the Galra.”

Allura frowned, and Lance knew that he would get a talking-to later on. “We had a discussion, the other Lance and I, after– after Father's–” Allura shuddered, steeling herself. “After the corrupted A.I. nearly sent us on a collision course with an exploding star. He explained to me what life for him was like back on Earth. Leaving your home behind to start a new life.” She gave Lance a hard stare. “And how much you miss Earth.”

“Oh.” Lance's voice was small. He gripped the nearest console to steady himself.

“You and I had the most awful shouting match. But in the end, it placed some things into perspective for me.” Allura looked out at the base. “Zarkon must be held responsible for the loss of my people. And the commanding officers of his army must be held responsible for the atrocities they continue to enact upon the systems of the known universe. Beyond that... we shall see.”

The alarm went off, and Lance shared a wide-eyed look with Allura.

“Is it the base?” Lance asked, rushing to his seat. He reached out to steady himself and sit, pausing when he saw the black of his armor. Wincing, Lance moved to the Black Paladin's seat as fast as possible.

“External scans are picking up an approaching object!” Coran called out. “Placing it on-screen now.”

They saw the ship, and Lance vaguely recognized it. Behind him, Allura gasped.

“A robeast?” Lance locked eyes with Allura. “How did Zarkon find us here?”

“Ulaz couldn't have betrayed us,” Lance said, doubt slipping into his voice. “Right?”

“Paladins,” Allura called into the comms. “Return at once. Voltron is needed.”

The robeast came out of the container, huge and bulky. Bright purple eyes scanned the xanthorium belt.

“I should get to my lion,” Lance breathed, standing moving toward– he paused, staring at the black of the armor. “Um.”

“What?” Allura looked at him. “Lance get to your Lion.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, nodding. “Funny thing, where is Shiro's access chute? I mean the Black Paladin's access chute.”

“Right there.” Allura pointed at the little stage behind her console, and Lance nodded. “And Lance? Do not forget your place in Voltron. We need to form Voltron to defeat this robeast.”

“Like I could ever forget,” Lance promised. In the back of his mind, Black's singing rose to a tempest.

Forming Voltron was an entirely different experience than Lance was used to. The Black Lion's song roared in Lance's mind, a deadly tornado song of war and battle. Lance had to focus hard, harder than he ever had to before, to contain the tornado.

Forming Voltron felt like standing in the center of a hurricane, a sea of calm surrounded by a raging vortex, a central point around which everything was collected. They moved as he moved. They acted as he acted. They fought as he fought. Five minds, five hearts, focused as one.

It was exhilarating, much more than it was terrifying.

Because nothing they did made any sort of lasting damage to the robeast. It drew in the xanthorium crystals when it wasn't drawing in Voltron or the Castle, and the laser blasts Pidge and Keith fired at it were eaten and reflected back. They couldn't use Hunk's cannon or Keith's sword, because the blast would get eaten and launched back at them, and the sword required getting in close – which they couldn't do without risking getting eaten.

Lance felt like they were fighting Kirby.

No one could beat Kirby.

Currently, Voltron was facing down the robeast, having tried out Pidge's suggestion of tossing it into the xanthorium crystals. The robeast was unaffected by the explosion, and the mouth was open, pulling Voltron in.

Black's tornado sang of war, and Lance saw Ulaz reappear, flying directly toward the mouth of the robeast.

“Wait,” Lance felt himself say. “Wait no. What are you doing?”

“Ulaz!” Shiro cried. “Why?”

“Voltron is too important to be lost,” Ulaz answered. “Farewell, Shiro.”

Ulaz's ship vanished in the robeast, and soon after the robeast imploded. Lance stared at the gaping hole in the crystal belt, felt Voltron come apart. Black's tornado of war died out, fading away like it never existed.

The flight back to the Castle was too long, and too silent. Lance stumbled out of Black, tearing off his helmet and nearly throwing it across the hanger in frustration. That wasn't supposed to happen, they weren't supposed to lose an ally like that.

Shiro wasn't supposed to lose a piece of his past.

Lance walked out of the hanger, exhausted and sweaty and feeling like he needed a long soak and a longer sleep. His hair felt awful and his skin felt worse, but Lance couldn't, wouldn't do anything about it until he knew that Shiro was alright.

He found everyone clustered outside of an observatory deck, all of them looking at Lance. Keith opened his mouth to say something, before closing it and looking away.

“I feel like second-hand death,” Lance began. “I want to take a nice shower, and have a nice long sleep, so this better be quick.”

“You should talk to him,” Hunk spoke up. “We already tried, but we're not you, so.”

Hunk shrugged like that answered anything. Lance stared at him, uncomprehending.

“I feel like second-hand death,” Lance repeated. “And I cannot believe none of you are in there trying to comfort him. Especially you, Keith. The two of you are attached at the hip, most days.”

Keith winced, and Lance paused.

“I am tired, and I just...” Lance waved. “Don't take anything I say for granted. Go. Clean up. Get some sleep.” Lance turned toward the door, his hand pausing before the panel. “I shouldn't have snapped at you, Keith.”

“I tried,” Keith offered. “I did what I could.”

“And you get an A for effort,” Lance replied. He placed his hand on the panel, opening the door and stepping inside. Inside, Shiro stood facing the stars, tense. “I'm sorry about Ulaz.”

“He just left us,” Shiro began, his voice tight. “He left me.”

“Did you get any answers?” Lance offered. “Anything to help you understand better?”

“He works – worked for a group,” Shiro answered. “The Blade of Marmora. They're against Zarkon, and want him out of power.”

“But they don't want the empire gone?” Lance probed. Shiro glanced at Lance, shrugging. “So it's two enemies joining against a common enemy.”

“He gave us the coordinates for their headquarters,” Shiro continued. “Then he said that we shouldn't go there until we know how Zarkon found us.”

Lance winced. So Shiro hadn't gotten any answers after all.

“I know,” Shiro spoke up suddenly, in answer to a question Lance hadn't asked. “I know it's my past, and maybe it should stay that way, but I just... I thought that this was going to provide answers. I thought that he was going to provide answers. Fill in the holes.”

Lance wasn't sure what to say to that. “Life's a weird thing,” he said instead. “And memory is a weirder thing. For example, I can remember perfectly that time when I was eleven and set the waffle maker on fire, but I have absolutely no memory of when I was twelve and broke my leg falling out of a tree. Everything from that time is a hazy mess. The only reason I even know it happened is because of what little I've been able to piece together from photos and my family's stories. But I have no clue what I was thinking when I climbed that tree, or even why I did it in the first place.” Lance stepped up to Shiro's side. “I figure I can't remember because I was on painkillers. Maybe that's the same thing for you. Nobody can put up a great fight or a great show if they can feel the pain from all that hurt happening to them. You got filled with Galra painkillers and now you can't remember all that time fighting.”

Shiro turned away from the stars to face Lance. He smiled, soft and sweet.

“Thank you,” he said. His arms raised slightly, before lowering back to his side. “Really, Lance. Thank you.”

Lance offered Shiro a soft grin of his own. “Happy to help.” He nudged Shiro's shoulder. “Now come on. Let's go watch the stink of battle off of us. I want to feel alive again.”

Shiro laughed, and Lance felt a bit of himself melt. He'd never heard Shiro laugh before. He'd never seen Shiro look so relaxed before. Lance wondered if maybe there was something about not being the leader that let Shiro be so loose like this.

“You go on ahead,” Shiro waved him off. “I'll catch up outside our room.”

Lance nodded, already halfway to the door, and froze. He turned to look at Shiro, wide-eyed. “Our what?”

“My room,” Shiro corrected, far too quickly to be believed. “I meant my room.”

“Uh-huh.” Lance nodded, long and slow. “And why would I be going to your room?”

Shiro stared at Lance like there was something he wasn't getting. “Because you've taken to sharing a bed with me to get me to sleep.” Lance gaped, feeling a flush creep up along his face. Shiro's face fell. “Do we not do that back in your universe?”

“We barely talk to each other,” Lance let out before his brain could stop it. He eeped, covering his mouth before backtracking. “I mean–”

“We're not that close?” Shiro asked before Lance could get started.

Lance sighed. He'd hoped to avoid talking about himself or his universe, but it seemed that everyone was far too invested to let it go. “You're close with Keith, and Pidge sometimes. But if it isn't about a mission or we're not in battle, we don't... talk. You keep to yourself a lot, Shiro.” Lance shook his head. “I don't–”

His voice cracked, and his vision blurred. Lance tried to blink away the tears, but they wouldn't stop flowing. The exhaustion mixed with his emotions, and Lance didn't protest, couldn't protest, when Shiro was there, pulling him into a hug. Lance cried, cried for things he couldn't put to words.

“Come on,” he heard Shiro speaking. “Let's go get cleaned up and get to bed. We're all tired.”

Lance didn't protest then, either. The day was far too long, and he wanted it to end already. He moved through the motions, taking off the armor and setting it aside, stepping into the shower, putting on his face mask. All of it swept past him like a dream.

He barely noticed when he fell asleep in Shiro's arms.

Chapter Text

It took Lance far too long to fall asleep, and by the time he woke up it felt like he'd done little more than lay down and close his eyes. When Lance had laid down Shiro returned to doing push-ups, and he was sure that at some point Shiro had laid down beside him, but when he woke Shiro was back to the floor performing sit-ups, no longer wearing armor.

Lance laid on his back and stretched out, arms spreading out to either side and his back arcing up. The bed, beyond where Lance lay, was cold. His arms pulled in close, leveraging him into a sitting position. Tilting his head, Lance felt a fond smile grow over his face as he watched Shiro work out.

“You're up early,” Lance hummed. His tone turned teasing as he added, “Did you skip out on your daily six hours of sleep? I thought we agreed.”

Shiro paused, giving Lance a considering look. “We agreed no cuddling. And I got enough sleep.”

Lance's smile faded. The fog of sleep began to clear from his mind, and he remembered the past three days. This wasn't his universe. This wasn't his Shiro.

“I care about you, Shiro,” Lance softly said. “We're teammates.”

“I'm your commanding officer too,” Shiro gently reminded him. “I know you're adjusting to being in this universe, Lance, but don't forget that.”

Lance really couldn't. The cold bed spoke more to him than anything Shiro could ever hope to say.

He grinned. “You don't have to worry about that, Shiro. I'm just saying that we're teammates. Pretty sure that means I'm allowed to care about you, whether you're my commanding officer or not.”

Shiro sighed, straightening up. Using the bed as a brace, Shiro pushed himself into standing. He gave Lance a flat stare. “I don't know what I'm like in your universe, but I can't let you sleep in my bed every night.”

“I–I know.” Lance pulled his legs close, wrapping his arms around his knees. He coughed, “I mean, I figured. We don't have the same relationship, that's for sure.” Lance glanced at Shiro. “Is this... the most we've ever talked to each other?”

Shiro sighed, his shoulders squaring. “You should go get dressed. Allura's waiting on us to eat before she can send us on fixing the Castle.”

Lance swung his legs over the side. “She's been here?” Lance gave Shiro a sly grin. “You let me sleep in?”

“You looked like you needed the sleep.” Shiro shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn't anything worth noting.

Lance noted it anyway, giving Shiro a fond smile.

Lance stared at his bedroom door, readying himself to leave for breakfast. He knew that Shiro wasn't waiting outside his room, knew that no one was waiting outside his room. He had seen it already, the distance within the team.

It was like some kind of cruel joke, that Lance was brought back to square one. That his team was back at square one with the other Lance. Here was a team like his own from the beginning, and there, back in his universe, there was a Lance like himself at the beginning.

Himself, untested, unconfirmed, uncertain and flying little better than blind.

His team, unconnected and unbelieving that they could be a unit, that they could be a family.

And Lance could see it, the distinction. It was in the way that Keith gravitated toward Shiro. The way Shiro only got close to Pidge. How Lance was the only one to get close to Hunk.

It was in the way that Shiro held no affection toward Lance. There was a cold neutrality between them, one bordering on exasperation, a thinly veiled annoyance that cut deeply at Lance.

He could see the hurt in Shiro too, could see how Shiro was closed off. Lance knew how it felt to be the leader of the universe's only hope, but he had hoped that the other Lance had been able to push past the hero worship and reach out to Shiro.

Unfortunately, it seemed that wasn't the case. Not that Lance could blame his other self, since he couldn't see himself reaching out to his hero after getting told that he was going to be working under the man. And he couldn't blame Shiro either, since a lot of their relationship was Lance looking to Shiro for support. Shiro, in a position of command, didn't hand out praise. He directed others and made decisions and concerned himself with ensuring that his team was safe, but... he wasn't out to make friends. Shiro liked flying, plain and simple, and he liked the freedom that came with flying through space.

Lance, in that regard, was ahead of the curve. The Galaxy Garrison encouraged competition among the students, figuring that they could – and would – be pushed to do better and be better. It wasn't a place to make friends, but Lance had worked hard to make sure that he knew everyone among the student body and they knew him. He didn't fully understand the competitive nature, but was more than happy to go along with it when it was the pilots fighting for better and better scores. These people were meant to be his future crews and co-pilots, his future colleagues, it made better sense to Lance to befriend them. They would all be placed together at some point, so he figured that building the bridges early on would make the long weeks and months traveling out to the far reaches of the solar system more bearable.

His early days as the leader of Voltron were spent pushing everyone together to hang out, to play games, to talk to one another. They were five humans and two Alteans, the only ones in the whole place, and bound to be close together for years to come. It was only natural for Lance to want them to get along. Keith and Shiro were the hardest to get to open up, but with the help of Hunk and Pidge and some hard work on his own, Lance had managed it back in his own universe.

It had also made them much better paladins. Forming Voltron had become almost second nature when they had made the assault on Zarkon's headquarters.

Here, Lance couldn't see that closeness, and it hurt.

But he would do what he could to fix it. He owed the other Lance at least that much.

Lance had barely managed to get through a bowl of food goo before Hunk appeared in full armor, grabbing Lance and pulling him away from the unfinished bowl. He watched despondently as the mice appeared, descending on the bowl to polish it off.

“My food goo!” Lance wailed dramatically, before turning to Hunk. “Fine. Give me a piggyback ride to my armor?”

Hunk stared at Lance before letting out a resigned sigh. “Hop aboard.”

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” Lance gleefully hopped onto Hunk's back, arms draping over his shoulders. “Also this armor is hard.”

“Not often enough,” Hunk grumbled, but without bite. “Now you know how I felt yesterday, lazybones.”

“I am not lazy,” Lance declared. “This is strength training. Think about how much of a workout you're getting right now!”

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Not much of a workout.”

“It's not?” Lance wiggled, leaning close to peer suspiciously over Hunk's shoulder. “Do I even weigh anything to you?”

“It's like hauling a bag of laundry,” Hunk dryly replied, giving Lance a smile.

“Such disrespect,” Lance declared, settling his chin on Hunk's shoulder, but he was grinning widely. “What is this horrible blow to my pride? Where did I go wrong? I didn't raise you to be this way.”

Hunk laughed, full-bellied, and Lance shook in place from the force of it. He soon joined Hunk in laughing, and they petered out as they approached the bridge. Lance slipped out of Hunk's grip, pausing to take in the reproachful glare of Allura.

“Sorry,” Lance apologized, although for what he wasn't sure. Everyone else was already at the bridge, in their armor already. “I'll just... go put on the armor. The Blue Paladin... armor. Yeah.”

Lance very much did not scamper off to the chamber. He didn't think he would ever get used to wearing the blue armor, and he really didn't want to get used to it. This whole situation was temporary, and Lance had no doubt in his mind that in a week, he would be back in his universe and everything would be set to right.

Lance yelped when his button pushing caused the pillar to go red, and he leapt behind Hunk while Pidge stalked forward. Pidge growled in frustration at Coran's unhelpful instructions, squinting at the booster coolant console before pushing several buttons in rapid succession. The column went back to the soft glowing blue, and Pidge grinned savagely.

“I am going to learn Altean,” Pidge promised with a solemn nod. “Because this technology would be so awesome to learn more about if I knew the quiznacking language!”

“Oh, yes.” Hunk nodded. “Like, I get the engineering here is mega awesome and I'd love to get my hands on it, but I'd settle for, like, being able to read the user's manual for some of this stuff.”

“Do you think there's any language learning programs here?” Pidge glanced at Lance, who shrugged. He hadn't come across any back in his universe, but who knew.

“There could be,” Lance admitted.

“There better be,” Pidge darkly promised.

“Paladins, stay close to the Castle,” Allura warned on the comms. “We appear to be entering a cloud of an unknown – Coran, am I reading this report correctly?”

“Indeed you are, Princess,” Coran chimed in, chipper as ever. “Scans are reporting that the storm is full of organic material. Why, they could be seed spores.”

“Shields up!” Shiro commanded, facing the approaching blue cluster. Lance activated his own shield, keeping half an eye on the others as their shields came up. He saw fist-sized balls, glowing a faint blue, gently pass around them. Directly in front of him, Shiro stood firm, blocking the sporeballs from connecting with his shield.

Lance looked at the sporeballs that had hit his own shield, and grinned. Reaching out, Lance caught a sporeball, cradling it and giving it a sly grin. Beside him, Hunk noticed the grin, and groaned. Lance met Hunk's eye, made a shushing gesture, and let the sporeball fly.

It sailed through the space, banking hard to the left of Shiro.

Lane frowned, grabbing another sporeball, adjusted his aim, and tossed it.

It banked left again, but it was much closer to Shiro than before.

Grinning, Lance snatched a third sporeball, took careful aim, and let it fly.

The sporeball hit Shiro square on the back of the head.

Hunk gaped from Lance to Shiro and back again. Lance cackled at the shocked look on Shiro's face.

“Sorry,” Lance unrepentantly offered, still grinning. “I was aiming for–”

A sporeball smacked against Lance's helmet, and he nearly toppled over.

“Like that?” Keith replied, and Lance saw his grin mirrored in Keith's.

“Sporeball fight!” Lance cried, deactivating his shield and taking a sporeball in both hands. He flung one at Keith and another at Pidge. Hunk grinned, snapping out a sporeball at Shiro, who retaliated with two of his own.

Having never seen snow outside of television and movies before, Lance figured that, as first snowball fights went, it could have been worse. Even if it wasn't snow, the sporeballs still exploded all over them like it was snow, still clung to itself like snow, and succeeded in making all of them spore-coated giggling masses.

“I'm taking one of these in for sampling,” Pidge declared, giggling at the end of their sentence. “If I get space flu because of this, I want to know that an antidote can be made.” Pidge paused. “And also so I can infect you and then lord my cure over your head as you suffer.”

“Not to worry, Number Five, all of you are going straight to decontamination,” Coran said. Down the Castle, Lance saw the airlock open. “We don't now what those sporeballs contain, and I don't want you infecting the Castle by accident.”

“On it!” Lance reached out to help Shiro into standing, and got a faceful of sporeball instead. He laughed, swiping his helmet clear and cleaning his hand on Shiro's own visor.

“What? Hey! Lance!” Shiro growled, but it wasn't nearly as effective when he started chuckling. “Let's go clean up.”

“You got it, boss man.” Lance saluted Shiro, bouncing backwards toward the airlock. He bounced over the rim of the airlock, falling down – and falling down. “Oof!”

Lance lay on his back, looking up at the door to the airlock.

“Don't forget about the artificial gravity, Lance!” Keith called out, teasing.

“Yeah, Lance, we wouldn't want you to fall down on the job,” Hunk added.

“The betrayal,” Lance bemoaned, throwing an arm over his head. “The agony, the pain. How will I ever recover?”

“Yep, he's okay,” Pidge declared, popping over the side and stumbling when they encountered the artificial gravity. Behind them, Keith did a fancy jump that ended in a superhero landing, while Shiro casually swung over the side, landing on his feet and walking forward. Lance rolled onto his stomach, crawling onto his hands and knees as Hunk entered.

At first, Lance saw a foot, and then he saw the rest of Hunk, sliding over the edge and into the airlock in the most unfairly graceful move Lance had ever seen.

“Hunk, you Samoan David Bowie,” Lance dryly praised. “That is just unfair. How do you do that? Tell me your secrets.”

Hunk shrugged, helping Lance to his feet. “Well, I treat it like you're walking down a flight of stairs. Except the first step is a doozy.”

“The betrayal,” Lance repeated, draping himself over Hunk. “Such absolute betrayal. How can I compare? I can't. You're too good.”

The airlock shut behind Hunk, and Lance blinked, standing up.

“Alright, Paladins, line up!” Coran's voice boomed over the intercom. “Number Five, you can set the sample in the slot to the side, it can be secured when the decontamination process is complete.”

Lance took the time during the decontamination to really look at Shiro in the black armor. It suited Shiro, in a different way than the blue armor suited Shiro. Where the blue armor made Shiro look softer, made him look more approachable, the black armor gave Shiro a sharp edge, a regalness to him. It reminded Lance of why this person was his hero, why this person was someone that Lance would follow to Hell without question. But there was also a softness there, underneath it. Lance saw it in the slight curve of Shiro's lips, in the way his eyes closed and the tension in his face eased away.

Seeing Shiro in the black armor, in Lance's armor, made Lance wonder what Shiro, his Shiro, would think to see Lance in the blue armor. Lance didn't think he looked very appealing in Shiro's armor, but he had no clue what Shiro would think of it. Would Shiro see a beauty that Lance didn't? Would Shiro see an elegance? A regalness? Or would Shiro see something intimate in him, something softer.

Hunk nudged at Lance.

“Dude, you're drooling.” Hunk made a face. “Also, you've been making heart eyes for the past couple minutes. What are you even–” Hunk cut off as the room filled with water, and he followed Lance's gaze. “Oh~! What? What?! You and–”

“Shush!” Lance swam and pat at Hunk's visor. “You shush right now!”

Hunk gave Lance a disbelieving stare. “I will remain quiet,” Hunk promised. “If you spill these beans. I want to see inside this can of worms.”

“Later,” Lance promised, giving Shiro another glance. He spotted Keith looking at himself and Hunk, and recalled the night's conversation. “I'll spill all the beans later.”

“I didn't even know you were gay,” Hunk whispered, still in awe. “This explains so much about you.”

“Bisexual,” Lance hissed. “I am bisexual and it explains nothing! Also, I am insulted that you would mistake my flirting like that. I am a delight to all people and you know it!”

“You know what?” Hunk considered Lance, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You really are. You de-light the fire out of everyone you meet.”

Lance gaped, speechless. The water flushed away, replaced by suds, and Lance stood there, processing.

“Hey, Lance.” Hunk snapped his fingers in front of Lance's face. Louder, he said, “Guys, I think I broke Lance.”

“How can you tell?” Pidge called out, and Lance shook himself out of his stupor.

“You keep out of this.” Lance waved a disapproving finger at Pidge. “You–”

The fans started, and Lance stumbled forward, into Shiro. Pidge shrieked, latching onto Keith to keep from being blown away. Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro's, eyes squeezed tight as the whirlwind buffeted them dry.

As soon as it started, the wind died down, and Lance peered up at Shiro. At some point Shiro had taken off his helmet, holding it under his free arm. His hair looked fluffier than usual, a product of the whirlwind, and Lance felt a desire to run his hands through it and see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Um.” Lance felt his face grow red as Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Uh.”

Lance glanced down, glanced away, because he could not deal with that, not at that moment. He realized that he still had Shiro's arm in his grip and practically leaped away.

“So!” Lance looked around. “Keith!”

Keith, in the middle of taking off his armor, stared at Lance warily. “...what?”

“You wanted me to show you how I did some of those moves in the training room the other day, yeah?” Lance stumbled over to Keith, hooking his arm around Keith's and frogmarching the teen out of the airlock. “Of course you did, you love the combat stuff. Let's go and... combat. Yeah.”

Keith looked back at Shiro helplessly, to which Shiro only shrugged in reply. They quickly passed out of sight of the others, and Lance let out a heaving sigh.

“Holy crow!” Lance breathed, placing a steadying hand to this chest. “Holy crow.”

Keith stared at Lance warily. “Are we not going to the training room?”

“Keith, please be kind to me,” Lance pleaded, hand still on his chest. “I need time to decompress. That was too much.”

“You were staring at Shiro and then you–” Keith cut off, eyes widening. “You and–”

“No!” Lance hurriedly placed a hand over Keith's mouth, glancing behind them. “We're not a thing, and since this isn't my universe, I won't pursue anything about anything. Because there's nothing there. At all.”

Keith took hold of Lance's hand, giving him a flat stare. “Nothing there my gay a–”

Lance slapped his other hand over Keith's mouth. “Don't swear!”

Keith glared. He pulled away Lance's other hand. “We're going to end up talking about this, aren't we?”

“Nope.” Lance shook his head. “We're not. Because there's nothing there to talk about. What are we even doing here? We're enjoying a nice bundle of not talking.”

Keith rolled his eyes, letting go of Lance's arms. “If you're going to pine, then you can at least do it on your own time. I'm going to get some training in.”

“I'm not pining!” Lance hissed, glancing back behind them again. Keith snorted, starting to move toward the training room. “I'm not!”

“And I'm not gay,” Keith dryly replied. Lance moved after him, settling into step beside Keith. “If you're going to use me as an excuse to avoid Shiro, don't scare me by making me think we're about to talk about whatever's bothering me.”

Lance blinked. “Oh. I... completely forgot about that.”

“Of course you did.”

“Do you still want to talk about it?” Lance probed. Keith gave him a dark look.

“Pot.” Keith pointed at Lance, then pointed at himself. “Kettle.”

“I am offended,” Lance said. “So offended, you have no idea.”

“You're not saying I'm wrong,” Keith pointed out.

“Of course I'm not, because you're absolutely right.” Lance sighed. “Fine. I'll talk about it. But you better not speak a word of this to him, or anyone else.”

Keith stopped, giving Lance a pointed stare.

“Right, this isn't my universe.” Lance nodded. “I'm just going to carry on.”

“I liked you better when you picked fights with me.” Keith sighed, shoulders slumping.

“It's just,” Lance continued, his voice growing wistful and fond and dripping with saccharine, “his hair got all fluffy and he had that smile, you know the one, it makes him look like a puppy.”

Keith's groan echoed through the halls the rest of the way to the training room.

Standing in Green's hanger, Lance listened to Pidge go on about finding a distress signal in the sporeball.

“So it's an intelligent sporeball?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“It's technology, Lance!” Pidge retorted, staring at the container holding the sporeball with stars in their eyes. “It's organic technology. This is way beyond anything Earth has.”

“Haven't you said that about Altean technology too?” Lance asked.

Pidge paused. “This is way beyond anything Alteans have. There. You happy?”

“Ah!” Coran nodded, and Lance squinted. Was it just him or did Coran seem... shinier than usual? “I know just where this came from! Come along, Paladins. To the bridge!”

Lance shared a glance with Pidge and Hunk, shrugging as Coran eagerly led them out of Green's hanger. On a whim, Lance slowed his steps, moving to walk alongside Shiro.

“So...” Lance gave Shiro a once-over from the corner of his eye. Mercifully, and unfortunately, Shiro's hair had lost it's fluffiness, and he had a soft grimace forming. Lance gave the others a quick glance. He was sure he saw Hunk give him a sly and encouraging thumbs-up, while Keith spotted Lance beside Shiro and jerked his head forward, shoulders stiff. “Are you alright?”

Shiro glanced at Lance before turning his attention toward following Coran. “I'm fine, Lance. Are you adjusting well?”

“Could be better,” Lance admitted. “But seriously. Are you okay? After everything yesterday, it's alright if you're not.”

Shiro stiffened. He set his jaw, and didn't look at Lance as he answered. “I'm doing just fine, Lance.”

“Okay.” Lance nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just wanted to make sure.”

Lance hated this, hated being back to square one. As neat as it was to see a world where Shiro had been chosen as the Black Paladin instead of himself, Lance wished it didn't come at this cost. Shiro was– he was Shiro, funny and wise and soft despite his hard outside and most of all important to Lance. Lance l–liked Shiro.

He liked Shiro.

And Shiro, his Shiro, the one he shared a bed with, the one who twined their hands together, the one who pulled Lance close and held him tight, the one who kept him grounded, liked him back.

And this Shiro, the leader, he... didn't. He was nothing to Lance, beyond a leader to look up toward, a hero to be like. Lance was– Lance meant little to this Shiro. Lance was a subordinate like the others, not a friend, not a–

Lance wasn't anything other than a member of Voltron alongside Shiro.

“Ew.” Pidge squinted in disgust at the forest, at the starlight bearing down on them, at the smell of nature, at the insects, at... everything, really.

It made Lance want to laugh.

“Not a nature person?” Lance glanced at Keith, catching his attention. He made a pointed glance between Keith and Pidge and back again, and jerked his head with one last pointed glance at Pidge.

Keith stared at Lance, uncomprehending.

“No, I am not,” Pidge declared, leaning back to avoid a huge dragonfly that buzzed past their face. They glared at the dragonfly, drawing their bayard. “Nature is awful. It's awful and it wants to kill us all.”

“Seriously?” Lance looked at Keith. “Are you believing any of this?”

Keith ignored Lance, looking up at the nearest tree.

“That is a big tree,” Keith said, craning his neck to see the top.

“Ye,s yes it is,” Lance acknowledged. “Now help me explain the wonders of nature to Pidge before they decide to set fire to everything in sight.”

“That is a big tree,” Keith repeated, and Lance stared as Keith leaned back, nearly falling over in his desire to see the treetop.

“Hunk, can you make sure Keith doesn't try to climb the tree?” Lance called out, while Shiro was looking over Pidge's shoulder at the coordinates on their map. “We don't need to carry him back to the Castle because his broke his leg or something.”

“Why can't you do it?” Hunk asked, squinting at a mushroom.

“Because I'm keeping Pidge from setting everything on fire,” Lance replied, moving to stand beside Pidge. He reached for their bayard, but they pulled it out of his immediate reach, glaring at him. Shiro started to move forward, ignoring everyone around him as he pushed toward the coordinates on the map.

“We're starting a forest fire?” Hunk asked, already on the move to pick up Keith, who had already wrapped his arms as far around the tree trunk and was attempting to shimmy up it.

“Hey!” Keith protested, squirming in Hunk's arms. “I just wanted to see the treetop! I've never been in a forest before!”

“None of us have been in a forest before, dude,” Hunk replied, carrying Keith like he weighed nothing. Keith slumped, becoming dead weight, and still Hunk carried on like nothing had happened. “But you don't see anyone else trying to climb a tree, do you?”

“Do I even weigh anything to you?” Keith grumbled, resigned to being carried.

“No, you're like a sack of potatoes.” Hunk adjusted his hold on Keith. “Or a large cat.”

“I resent that!”

“Minus three Voltron points,” Lance absentmindedly called out, staring Pidge down in a deadly battle of wills. He gambled a finger wag at Pidge. “For both of you. Reckless endangerment. That's a real thing, right Shiro?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “That's right. Now focus. We're almost there.”

Lance grinned triumphantly as Pidge put away their bayard. Keith, as a form of protest, kept limp in Hunk's arms.

Lance decided to take a backseat for the rescue mission, letting Shiro call the shots. While the last time had been... disastrous, Lance was more than curious to see how Shiro fared as a leader when going into a mission with known parameters and with a known enemy.

The plan sounded simple, and Lance was impressed. Using Pidge and Green to drop a BLIP and the team and find the captive King Lubos was simple, but effective. The only issue Lance had with it was the lack of a solid escape plan.

“Lance,” Shiro hissed when they landed and made a protective circle around the BLIP, “your bayard.”

“Huh?” Lance glanced down at his hands, at the blue of the armor. “Oh! Right, sorry.”

The bayard materialized, transformed into the rifle, and Lance raised it, finger off the trigger.

“BLIP shows two signatures, Shiro's two o'clock and... a floor up from where you are, about thirty meters out. Looks like King Lubos has someone with him,” Pidge informed them from Green. “I'm circling the building. Call when you need evac.”

“Standby,” Shiro confirmed. He pointed to his two o'clock, and Keith moved forward, using his rocket to boost up a level.

Lance kept his eyes out for movement, wary. Pidge hadn't mentioned patrols, and something about that didn't sit right with him. Why wouldn't the place be teeming with footsoldiers if it was holding the Olkari King?

Keith waved the all-clear, and Shiro led the charge, stopping them at every corner before moving closer and closer to King Lubos' location. Still they hadn't encountered any patrols, or any sign that there were patrols.

“Anyone else get the feeling something's not right?” Lance murmured, keeping a solid eye behind them.

“I know,” Shiro answered, his voice low. “I don't like this. Be prepared.”

For what, Lance wanted to ask. They came across a door with a Galra control panel. Keith moved up against one side of the door with Hunk, while Lance moved beside Shiro on the other side. Shiro reached up with his right hand, placing it against the panel. Lance watched, mesmerized. He'd heard about it from Pidge, that Shiro's prosthetic could access Galra tech, but to see it happen was something else entirely. It reminded Lance, painfully, that Shiro carried around a piece of Galra. That there was always going to be a part of Shiro that the Galra had taken from him, that he was never going to get back, not entirely.

The door opened, and they rushed the room.

“What the cheese.” Lance lowered the rifle.

Two Olkari were in the room, both wearing the prison uniforms. One was seated before a huge screen, upon which a... Lance squinted, trying to figure out what it was. A movie? A soap opera?

“King Lubos?” Shiro stepped forward, uncertain. The seated Olkari stood, looking excited.

“Oh! Are you here with my next–” the king froze, looking at them uncertainly. “You are not my hosts.”

“We're with Voltron,” Shiro explained. A dark feeling settled in Lance's gut, pulling at everything. Something seriously wasn't right here. “Your people sent a distress signal. We're here to rescue you, and free your planet from the Galra.”

“How laughable.” The lights turned on, and Lance raised the rifle as the wall opposite them rose up. The room doubled in size, and Lance saw footsoldiers, a dozen of them at least, all armed, and headed by a Galra commander. “King Lubos, it seems Voltron is here to free you from my hospitality.”

“What is happening?” Hunk whispered, and Lance couldn't answer, locking his sights on the Galra commander.

“We're taking him with us,” Shiro declared. “You won't be keeping him prisoner any longer.”

“Prisoner?” The commander laughed. “Lubos isn't my prisoner, he's here because he wants to be. He came to me and offered up his planet in exchange for this.”

The commander gestured at the room, at the seat and the huge screen, and Lance felt the pit of his stomach drop away as the feeling crystallized.

“You betrayed your people?” Lance glanced at the king, who offered a sheepish smile.

Keith moved, his bayard out but his sword not drawn, and placed it against the neck of King Lubos.

“We're leaving,” Keith told the commander. “You're not following.”

“What are you doing?” Shiro cried. Lance stared at Keith, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“That's amusing,” the commander chuckled. He raised a hand. “Kill them all.”

“What?” Lance raised the rifle, prepared to shoot. Together, they might be able to take the soldiers on, but Lance wasn't certain if they could win. It was a cold thought, but Lance hadn't seen this team in action, had no clue how effective they were or how well they fought together.

He had faith, though. This was Voltron, they would be able to win.

“I got what I wanted from him,” the commander said, stepping back as his soldiers rushed the room. “And what a delight it will be, to present my weapon to Lord Zarkon and inform him of the deaths of the Paladins of Voltron.”

“Pidge!” Lance shouted, readying to shoot.

Lance pulled the trigger. Two soldiers went down.

The wall exploded, Green's head shoving into the room. Green's mouth opened, and Lance was on the move, jumping inside with the others. He fired blindly, and was lucky enough to see one shot hit a soldier, but not enough to bring it down.

The last thing Lance saw before entering Green's cockpit was the Galra commander, snarling with rage.

Lance didn't have time to scold Keith or talk to him, once they saw the huge cube hovering in the sky above the Olkari city. Blue thrummed a maelstrom in Lance's mind, and Lance dodged the cube's blasts, fluid and nimble.

Blue nudged against Lance's mind, and he grinned.

“Let's see how it likes the cold!” Lance gripped the controls tightly, pushing forward, and Blue let loose an ice beam.

The cube didn't freeze, and Lance had a moment of horror settle before the cube blasted the ice beam back at him, encasing Blue's head – and the cockpit – in ice.

“What the cheese!” Lance shivered, and Blue shook her head, trying to break free of the ice.

“Hold on, I got you!” Keith fired at the ice, breaking and melting it away, and Lance sighed in Blue's relief.

“Thanks!” He refocused on the cube. “That thing throws back everything we throw at it.”

“Like Coran's cube!” Pidge added.

“Form Voltron!” Shiro ordered, and Lance felt the pull, followed it into the hurricane that was Voltron.

Pulling out the sword, they rushed at the cube, slicing once, twice. The cube broke into four pieces, and Lance felt elation – from himself, from the lions, from the others – and the shock and horror when the four pieces reformed into four cubes. They all returned fire, and Voltron broke apart, the hurricane collapsing.

The maelstrom wailed in Lance's mind as he dodged and weaved, and from the corner of his eye he saw Green get hit, heard Pidge's cry over the comms before everything from them went silent.

“Pidge?” Lance called out. “Pidge!”

“What happened?” Hunk called out, and Lance spotted Yellow ramming into one cube, slamming it into the other. The cubes rumbled and shuddered, and Yellow was flown back. “I didn't see. Where's Pidge? Did something happen?”

“I can't see them.” Lance scanned the forest below, dodging blasts from the cubes.

“Focus, Lance!” Shiro called out, and Lance wanted to cry in frustration. He was, couldn't Shiro see that? Lance was a master at multitasking, it was a necessary skill when things when apples and bananas in the Garrison simulator.

“I'm back!” Pidge's voice came through the comms and Lance let out a whoop of joy. “And Green has something new to try against them. Get clear!”

Lance saw a shimmer of light on Green's back, and a grin grew on his face. The cubes went down in explosions of plants, and he started laughing.

“Whatever happened to nature being evil?” Lance teased, and he heard Pidge's laughter.

“I think I could grow to like nature,” Pidge replied, and Lance could hear the grin on their face, “when I'm not the one it's trying to kill.”

“Keith!” Lance stormed onto the bridge, interrupting a hushed conversation between him and Shiro. “Keith, I got to ask. What were you thinking, taking King Lubos hostage like that?”

“I was thinking he was a high value prisoner,” Keith reasoned, staring from Lance to Shiro in betrayal. “Why are you both getting on me about this?”

Lance paused, looking at Shiro in surprise. He met Shiro's exasperated look, and deflated. On the other side of the bridge, Coran produced several of his boxes, and all of them began to sing.

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man~!”

“I'm just,” Lance began, turning back to Keith. He groaned in frustration. “I'm trying to understand why you would think that ridiculous idea would even work. Keith, that was so reckless of you to–”

“Lance, that's enough,” Shiro cut Lance off. “I've already talked to Keith about it. He doesn't need you picking a fight with him.”

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man~!”

“What?” Lance glanced at Keith in confusion before turning to face Shiro, baffled. “What are you talking abo–”

The alarms blared, and everyone turned toward the screen, where the rear cameras popped up, showing Zarkon's High Command.

“Oh no.” Coran's voice echoed through the bridge from the Altean himself and from the boxes repeating his words.

Chapter Text

Waking up, Lance felt more rested than he had been in weeks. He snuggled, warm, into the bed, and felt thick arms curl around him. Lance sighed into the grip, pressing back up against the bo–

Hold the phone.

Lance squirmed an arm free, reaching up to tug his sleep mask off. The arms curled tighter, every so slightly, and Lance stared down in growing horror at the prosthetic. He had stared at it in the past, had wondered what if felt like, if Shiro could feel with it, if, if, if.

It was warm, at least as warm as Shiro's other arm. And Shiro radiated with heat, a comfort that Lance had forgotten. Growing up in the sun and along the beach, Lance intimately knew the warmth of the sun and the chill of the ocean breeze, and missed it out there in space. There was a stark neutrality to everything in the castle, with the air being carefully filtered and circulated that Lance couldn't tell if there was actually any part of the castle that felt drafty. The temperature was secure, a steady eighteen degrees Celsius (Lance was still figuring out what Alteans and the rest of the universe measured temperature against, but until that point he was going to stick to Celsius).

But that wasn't the point. The point, Lance realized as the rest of his brain booted up, was that he was in bed with Shiro. He was being cuddled by Shiro. He was–

Lance felt Shiro pull him close, felt soft breath against his ear.

Lance was being spooned.

By Shiro.

There were so many things not right about the situation, Lance wasn't even sure where to start. No, Lance knew exactly where to start.

Squirming more, Lance began to carefully shimmy down along Shiro's chest. Arching his legs forward, he followed that curve and kept moving. Shiro's arms steadily moved higher and higher up Lance's chest, until they were at level with his shoulders. Lance paused, sparing a moment to glance at Shiro. When there was no response, Lance sighed, and in one swift, inelegant, and highly complicated maneuver, he pulled his shoulders out and his head free.

Lance fell onto the floor, popping up onto his hands and knees to warily look at Shiro, terrified that he had woken up. Shiro, without Lance there, flopped onto his stomach and let out a long, slow breath. Lance kept staring, feeling far too much like the narrator in a nature documentary.

Seeing Shiro sleep felt a lot like what Lance imagined it felt like to stumble upon a legendary Pokemon, rare and beyond description. Shiro looked... Crow, Shiro looked vulnerable. There was a relaxed nature to Shiro, in this universe, that Lance couldn't remember ever seeing in the Shiro back in his own universe. Even before Kerberos, when Lance saw Shiro from a distance or through official news outlets, Shiro stood tall, shoulders squared, face set and so serious.

Here, Shiro was softer. He smiled, he laughed, he joked, he... he looked healthier. Happier.

He was also wearing Lance's pajamas.

Gently, carefully, Lance got to his feet. Glancing down at his own clothes, Lance stared at the black pajamas he wore. It took him a moment to make the connection, that these were the pajamas of the Black Paladin. Lance thought back to the night before, to talking with Shiro and then...

Lance winced, moving to the door. He had consoled Shiro and ended up needing consoled himself. It was embarrassing, that Lance had broken down like that. Worse, that it had happened in front of Shiro. It shouldn't have.

His first mission as team leader, his first mission as the Black Paladin of Voltron, and it was a near-total failure. They didn't defeat the robeast. They lost an ally, lost a piece of Shiro's missing year, lost a chance to locate the rest of Shiro's old crew. The only upside, if it could even be called one, was that Ulaz had given Shiro the coordinates of his organization's headquarters. The only part of the mission that wasn't a failure, and they couldn't even make any use of it.

Lance wondered if his own universe was faring any better. He wondered if his own team knew about Ulaz, knew about the Galra fighting against Zarkon's rule.

He wondered if Ulaz lived in his universe, if Shiro's leadership led to defeating the robeast without Ulaz having to sacrifice himself.

That was the most dangerous thing about alternate universes, Lance supposed. They opened up the worst kinds of questions, the what ifs and the could-have-been. All the questions that Lance didn't want to know answer to, but was learning them anyway.

On the bed, Shiro shifted. “Lance?”

Lance froze, one hand reaching out for his– for the robe. The blue robe, since there were two hanging on the wall across from the bed, one blue and one black.

“Shiro.” Lance grinned, turning to face the bed. He felt far too much like he was performing some kind of walk of shame, which, he was not a walk of shame kind of person. “You're awake.”

Shiro pushed up off of the bed, blinking sleepily at Lance. With each blink Lance swore he saw Shiro waking up more and more. “So are you. That's rare. Usually I'm the one awake first.”

Lance stared, processing the information. “We...” He gestured at the bed. “Is this– are we–”

Shiro glanced at the bed before blinking in surprise. “The sleeping thing? You started it so I could get some sleep. We don't–” Shiro looked at Lance, his face falling. “We don't do it back in your universe?”

Lance shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. They weren't close, they barely spoke to each other.

“I'm sorry,” Lance eventually offered Shiro. “But we can still– it's only sharing a bed. And you need the sleep. Not sleeping is not good. It's a recipe for poor health and poor skin.”

Shiro chuckled. “You said the same thing when you started this.”

Lance blinked, before grinning. “Of course I did. He did. Ugh, pronouns.”

“We'll figure it out.” Shiro straightened into a sitting position. “So how are you feeling?”

“Me?” Lance snorted, waving Shiro off. “I'm doing great. I got a solid couple hours of sleep, and now I'm starving and ready for a big bowl of food goo.”

Shiro nodded. “And yesterday?”

Lance didn't want to talk about yesterday. “I'm doing alright. Not how I imagined my first mission as leader would go but...” Lance shrugged. “I mean, not like I ever imagined being the leader.”

“Lance.” Shiro gave Lance a flat stare.

“Okay, fine! I maybe imagined it once or twice,” Lance admitted. “But I never imagined being– being the Black Paladin.”

“Really?” Shiro's eyebrows raised in surprise. “Not once?”

“No.” Lance shook his head. He reached for the blue robe, wrapping it around himself. It was baggy, built for shoulders bigger and broader than his own, and he shrugged it off. Lance reached for the black robe. “Shiro, you're the Black Paladin back where I come from. And I'm the Blue Paladin. That's not changing. If it ever does then that means that you're not–”

Lance cut himself off, shrugging the robe on and hastily tying it closed.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Shiro assured Lance, and they both knew how empty it was. This wasn't Lance's Shiro, this wasn't his leader, his commander. “And,” Shiro added, “he isn't either.”

“You don't know that.” Lance felt childish pointing that out, but it was a valid point. The contrast between the two Shiros was dizzying.

“I know me,” Shiro said. “And he's me.”

“Not as much as I'd like.” The words were out before Lance could stop them. He froze, looking guiltily at Shiro. “Sorry. I didn't mean–”

“What's he like?” Shiro asked, sitting up. “The Black Paladin me.”

Lance considered the question. Did he respond truthfully, that Shiro was a great leader, pressing the team to be ready to fight at a moment's notice? Did he respond honestly, that Shiro kept them all within sight as often as he could, that he was the first to wake and the last to fall asleep (at least, that Lance knew), that he wasn't anywhere near as open as this other Shiro before him?

“He's a good commander,” Lance eventually said. “He drives us and inspires us. Shiro– he leads by example a lot of the time.”

He kept it from sounding like he was describing Shiro to Shiro, made it sound like he was talking about a completely different person.

Shiro frowned. “Is that all?”

“He talks with Pidge a lot, and is really close with Keith,” Lance continued. “I'm not... I don't remember if he's ever really talked with Hunk. I mean, we all participate in group conversations, him included, but outside of that... he's a commanding officer.”

Lance shrugged, unable to explain it beyond that. Shiro swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his right shoulder and rolling it.

“I think I got the idea,” Shiro said, stretching into a stand. His arms swung up and behind, and Lance saw the front of Shiro's shirt ride up, showing a very toned set of abs around an obscenely adorable bellybutton.

“I should get going,” Lance said, rushing over his words as he felt his face flare with blush. “We're probably late for a meeting or something, and Allura gets this frustrated slash disappointed look whenever I'm not there so–”

“Lance wait!” Shiro reached out, taking a gentle but firm hold on Lance's shoulder. “I'm usually the first person up, and you're usually awake not long after me. We're the only ones awake right now. Allura won't call for a meeting for another hour at least.”

Lance stared at the door, feeling Shiro's grip on his shoulder loosen, and he gulped. He didn't know what to do. His start-up plan of finding Coran or Hunk and getting them to talk until he couldn't hear himself think anymore was going up in flames.

“Oh,” Lance said as he frantically tried to imagine up another excuse. “Well, maybe we could – we could train?”

Too late Lance recalled that Shiro had a bayard and he didn't. Too late he realized that he shouldn't be running away but redirecting.

“I mean,” Lance began again, “you have a bayard here and I don't and I never really learned how to fight. The Garrison had a self defense class but it was optional and I never went so–”

“It's fine,” Shiro said, and Lance turned to see Shiro shrugging on the blue robe. It felt strange, seeing Shiro wearing Lance's clothes, a stirring in his gut, below his gut, that Lance adamantly refused to acknowledge.

Crossing into another universe was not the time to explore if one was gay or not. It counted double, that he was feeling that way toward Shiro.

“Good, good.” Lance nodded, stepping back toward the door. “I'll just go and get ready. Meet you in the training room?”

“Don't forget to wear your armor,” Shiro added, already on the move toward his connected bathroom. Lance watched Shiro shuffle along, and stared at the hint of blue slippers on Shiro's feet.

Lance practically ran out of the room, back to his own– back to the Black Paladin's room.

He still wasn't used to the black armor, still saw it and thought that he should be looking at bright blue instead of deep black.

It felt even stranger to see Shiro standing in the training room, dressed in armor that should be on Lance.

“So how does this work?” Lance asked, staring down at his empty hands. He didn't think he could ever get used to not having a bayard, much less fighting without one. “Am I going up against a gladiator bot, are we going to fight, what's about to happen here?”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Well, let's start out with the training sequence. You've never done this before, so I'm going to be on the side. I'll come in when I see that you need help, so don't worry about pushing yourself.”

“I won't need help,” Lance boasted, puffing out his chest. His hands still felt far too empty. Shiro chuckled, stepping to the side.

“Begin training sequence, level one.”

Lance raised his arms, hands clenching into fists, as the gladiator dropped down. It had the same staff as ever, and Lance bounced on the balls of his feet. The gladiator charged forward, and Lance got caught across the chest by the staff, sending him skidding across the room. The gladiator vanished, and Lance groaned, rubbing at his chest. The armor helped keep the impact low, but the force of it still hurt.

“Ow.” Lance looked over at Shiro, who was frowning thoughtfully. “I can still go another couple of rounds, if that's what gave you the frown.”

“It's not that.” Shiro waved off the comment, stepping toward Lance. “You didn't move like I thought you would. Like you usually do.”

“And how do I usually move?” Lance asked, standing up and propping his hands on his hips. “I know enough about fistfights to have put up my dukes alright.”

“That's not it – and don't say that again.” Shiro gave Lance a once-over. “Usually you're the one on the move. You don't stand still like that.” Shiro pursed his lips, before moving to stand opposite Lance. “Let's try again, but this time go up against me. Try to knock me off my feet.”

“Seriously?” Lance snorted. “I'd rather go up against the gladiator bot a couple dozen times.”

“Humor me.” Shiro smirked, and Lance hesitated before groaning.

“Fine. But!” Lance held up a finger. “No gloating when I end up lasting longer against the gladiator bot.” He paused. “And no telling anyone else.”

“I wasn't planning to tell anyone,” Shiro stated. His bayard materialized, the lance glinting in the light. “Now are you going to come at me or not?”

Lance took a deep breath, steeling himself, and ran at Shiro.

The shaft of the lance caught him below the knee, and Lance fell to the ground.

“First lesson,” Shiro began as he walked over to help Lance back onto his feet, “you've got skill in gymnastics. Use it.”

Lance stared at Shiro, trying to piece it together. How did Shiro even know that? Did the other Lance make that connection on his own?

Was this whole exercise Shiro's way of helping Lance learn to defend himself, or was it Shiro's way of getting Lance to learn something that his other self already knew?

Shiro grinned at Lance, moving back to the ready position. Lance glared at the grin, wanting to wipe it off Shiro's face. Whatever the answer, Lance was more than willing to rise to the challenge.

“My gymnastics skill, huh?” The grin Lance gave Shiro felt predatory. “That's something I haven't done for a couple years. I might be a bit rusty.”

“I'm counting on it.” Shiro matched Lance's grin with one of his own.

Lance lunged. Shiro swung low, aiming to take out Lance's legs again. Lance jumped over the swing, hopped back again when Shiro reversed his swing, and placed both hands on the shaft of the lance. He used it as a brace, jumping into a handstand and forcing Shiro to point the lance down. The blade struck the floor, and Lance grinned at the stability it offered him. He held the handstand, looking up at Shiro with the grin still on his face.

Dropping out of the handstand, Lance straddled Shiro's bayard, letting his weight hold it down.

Shiro deactivated the bayard, dropping Lance to the ground with a yelp. Lance scrambled for some distance between them, more than familiar with how brutal Shiro could be in close combat. The bayard rematerialized and Lance froze, the blade pressed along his neck. Shiro nodded, seemingly satisfied, and Lance felt the blade pull away. Shiro's weapon dematerialized and the bayard vanished a moment later.

“So,” Lance began, staring at Shiro in something like awe. “I think I did alright.”

“You put distance between us,” Shiro stated, brow furrowing. “Why would you do that?”

“Are you kidding?” Lance's jaw dropped when Shiro shook his head. “You're not kidding. You seriously – Shiro, you do know that you're the best of anyone here in close combat. You have to know that, you remember enough about fighting in Zarkon's arena. I didn't want to go up against that.”

“But you didn't press the advantage,” Shiro pointed out, frowning. “I didn't have my weapon out, and you could have attacked me up close.”

“You're missing the point here.” Lance felt the twist of his gut when he disagreed with Shiro. “Shiro, you could take me out with one hand tied behind your back. It didn't matter if I tried to get up close, you'd still win. I backed up because I figured it was easier to dodge your bayard.”

Shiro paused, looking at his hands. “I didn't think about that.” He glanced over at Lance. “Am I really the best at close combat?”

“Back in my universe, you fight without a bayard,” Lance replied. “You use your glowy arm a lot of the time. None of us can hold a candle to you when you really go all out on a Galra drone or the gladiator bot.”

Shiro looked at his right hand, clenching it into a fist. After a moment, it began to glow, but it was more blue than Lance was expecting, tinted with rivulets of purple.

“Huh.” Lance tilted his head. “I wonder if the purple is a Galra thing or if that's a Black Paladin thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Shiro unclenched his hand, the glow fading away. Lance waved at Shiro's arm.

“The swizzle stick thing Coran did. It turned up blue for me before going purple,” Lance explained. “And your arm, it had bits of purple in it. I wonder if that's some kind of thing.”

Shiro shrugged. “I wouldn't know.” The bayard returned to his hand. “Let's get back to training. I'll have you back to yourself– uh, your other self's standards in a week.”

“I am going to die,” Lance groaned, but he couldn't stop grinning.

Lance watched Pidge reset the booster coolant, fixing his mistake. He could have sworn that he pushed the right things in the right sequence.

“I am going to learn Altean,” Pidge declared as the console slid back into the hull. “I am going to learn Altean, and I am going to use it to write a user's manual for everything on this Castle.”

“Don't tease me like this,” Hunk warned, pointing at Pidge. “Do not tease me like this, Holt.”

Lance stared from Hunk to Pidge, feeling like he was missing something. “Holt?”

Beside Lance, Shiro winced. Pidge glanced at Lance, before settling their gaze on Lance in disbelief. “Oh please tell me I told you about the whole 'secretly not a boy' thing in your universe.”

“You did,” Lance replied. “I just – Holt? Like Shiro's crewmates on the Kerberos mission?”

“My family,” Pidge explained. “Didn't I tell you that?”

“This explains so much about you.” Lance stared off into space, recalling Pidge's intense desire to know about the Kerberos mission, about Shiro's crew. “So much.”

“Getting back on point,” Hunk added, fixing Pidge with an intense stare. “Are you talking making a translator program like you did for the Galra? Or actually learning the language?”

“Actually learning the language,” Pidge replied. “I want to know what I'm tinkering with, Hunk. There's only so much I can do flying blind.”

“Please, learn Altean,” Keith added. “And please stop leaving the stuff you take apart in my room. I liked my room a lot more when it didn't smell like the inside of an engine.”

“Pidge!” Hunk reprimanded. “You agreed!”

“No, you agreed,” Pidge retorted. “I just sat there and looked innocent.”

Lance leaned toward Shiro. “What is happening here?”

Shiro glanced at Lance. “Friendship,” he dryly answered. “You have no one to blame for this but yourself.”

“I was hoping that wasn't the answer,” Lance muttered. Louder he said, “Hunk, I have been your roommate. Do not subject Keith to that. He's suffering enough.”

Keith squawked, offended, while Pidge laughed. Shiro moved to place a comforting hand on their heads, before shoving them both down with a laugh. A glowing blue ball flew past them, and Lance turned. In the distance, growing closer, was a huge cloud, glowing blue.

“Paladins, stay close,” Allura cut through the comms. “We're passing through an asteroid belt. I– Coran, these readings cannot possibly be correct.”

“Indeed they are, Princess!” Coran chirped. “Scanners are reading biological material all across the asteroid belt. Perhaps a some species of mold.”

“Stay close to the Castle,” Allura interrupted. “And Coran will ready the airlock for decontamination once we pass through the belt.”

“Already on it!”

Lance activated his shield, and nodded at Shiro, who did the same.

“Shields up!” Lance declared, when Shiro didn't let out the order. The glowing balls flew past them, and Lance saw one hit his shield, splattering. It didn't have much of an impact, and his shield didn't feel any heavier for it. Now that Lance could get a good look at them, they did seem a lot like mold, or seeds, or some kind of spore. Glancing at Shiro, Lance felt a sly grin grow on his face. He hadn't been able to beat Shiro in the training room, but Lance wasn't over getting one over on Shiro.

It also would help get both their minds off of the disaster that was yesterday's mission.

Deactivating his shield, Lance stuck out his hand, carefully catching one of the sporeballs in hand. It was squishy in his grip, but held its shape well enough.

The sporeball flew wide, nearly hitting Pidge.

Lance frowned, grabbing another sporeball, and taking more careful aim. This one swung closer to Shiro, but it was still off the mark.

Grabbing a third sporeball, Lance grinned and threw it as hard as he could at Shiro.

The sporeball hit Shiro, exploding over Shiro's helmet. Shiro stumbled forward, looking back at Lance in betrayal.

“Whoops,” Lance chuckled. “I was aiming for Kei–”

Keith's sporeball hit Lance square in the face.

“Oh, it is on, Kogane.” Lance took two sporeballs in hand, lobbing them at Keith and Shiro. Pidge lobbed one at Hunk, who aimed at Shiro.

The sporeball fight was short, swift, and it left all of them giggling messes, leaning against one another as they made their way back to the airlock. Their suits were coated in the spores, and Pidge had snagged a sporeball for future study.

Lance did a jump and a twirl, aiming for a superhero landing. It would have worked, too, if he had remembered to account for the gravity inside the airlock being perpendicular to the outside of the Castle. Lance hit the floor hard, and he rolled over. He glared at Hunk, who did a belly flop, hands on his hips as he struck a superhero pose.

“Betrayal,” Lance hissed, his voice empty of venom.

“Don't blame me for your terrible superhero landing,” Hunk declared, feet landing solidly on the floor of the airlock. Hunk walked past Lance, giving him a clear view of Pidge climbing up and over the side like a monkey, a container full of sporeball in hand.

“Where can I put this so the decontamination doesn't kill it?” Pidge asked, hefting the container up and grinning triumphantly.

“There's a slot to the side, Pidge,” Coran answered over the intercom. “It will keep your sample safe and tidy while the rest of you lot get cleaned of particulates. We wouldn't want you to infect the Castle.”

“I feel so safe,” Keith dryly remarked, gripping the top of the airlock and swinging inside. Behind him, Shiro was swinging over the side, using his prosthetic to keep his grip steady as he entered the artificial gravity. “I can't wait for this to be over. Lance, I'm crashing in your room for a couple hours. I need to sleep somewhere that doesn't smell like motor oil and fumes.”

“It's a soothing smell!” Pidge snapped, sliding the sporeball container into a panel in the wall.

“It stinks and it gives me a headache,” Keith bit back without missing a beat.

“Hold the phone.” Lance bounced to his feet. “You're not sleeping in my room.”

“Why not?” Keith asked, a faint look of disgust on his face. He glared over Lance's shoulder, at Shiro. “It's not like you actually use that room to sleep in anyway.”

Shiro gave Lance a comforting pat on the back while giving Keith the most disarming smile Lance had ever seen. It was the most unfairly adorable thing Lance had ever seen.

“He's got a point, Lance,” Shiro said, turning the smile on him. “And it won't mean that the room stops being yours. All your stuff is still in there.”

Lance wanted to argue, but in the face of that smile he could do nothing but grumble under his breath about Keith not making the room smell.

The decontamination process was swift, and Lance was interested in watching Shiro, seeing Shiro use the soap to scrub himself, seeing Shiro enjoy when the room was filled with water. When the water drained away and the wind started up, Lance wasn't expecting the sheer power of the wind, and was knocked forward, pressing against Shiro, who was in the process of taking off his helmet.

“Sor–” The apology died a merciless death on the edge of Lance's tongue when he saw the soft smile Shiro gave him, hair flowing in the wind. Lance felt his face heat up, felt far too aware of how steady Shiro was. His mind supplied the memory of hours before, when Shiro stretched and the shirt rode up.

Lance made a noise somewhere between a dying whale and a screaming hawk. The moment the wind stopped, he jumped away from Shiro, latching onto Hunk and practically dragging him out of the airlock.

“Lance, wait!” Keith called out, and jogged after them.

“Not the time, Keith,” Lance replied, clinging to Hunk's arm like it was an anchor keeping him from drifting away.

“Dude, what is it?” Hunk looked back over their shoulders, at Keith following behind. He stopped, and Lance stopped with him. Hunk tried to pull his arm free, before sighing and using one hand to take off his helmet. “Lance. Let go. I want to get out of my armor and go see if I can find something to make cookies with.”

“I wanted to talk,” Keith said once he caught up with them. He pointedly looked at Lance. “With you. Alone.”

“Not the time, Keith,” Lance repeated, his face still flaming red. Both Keith and Hunk stared at Lance's deep blush before Keith groaned, turning away. Hunk, meanwhile, was staring at Lance with the most canary-eating grin Lance had ever seen him wear.

“No,” Keith grumbled, walking away. “Nope. Nuh-uh. I am not dealing with this again. You're on your own, Hunk!” Keith paused. “But send him my way once you're done. I still need to talk to him about something.”

Lance watched Keith leave, before turning to face Hunk. His grip on Hunk's arm went slack, and Hunk gratefully pulled away. “What's he talking about? Again?”

“Lance, buddy,” Hunk reached out, taking Lance by the shoulders. “I can't believe I get to actually say this line. I missed out last time, this is the greatest thing to ever happen to me.” Hunk took a deep breath. “You're a bisexual, Lance.”

Lance stared at Hunk. “What.”

“A bisexual,” Hunk repeated. “A person who is attracted to multiple genders. In your case, girls and Shiro.”

“What?” Lance scoffed. “That is– that's just– I would never. How, how do I know, really, that you – you aren't bisexual, huh?”

“This isn't about me,” Hunk replied. “Also? Yes, I am. You know this, just like you know you've got a crush on Shiro.”

“I do not!” Lance protested.

“Search your feelings, you know this to be true!” Keith's voice carried on down the hall. Hunk snickered as Lance wished for the Castle to try killing him again.

“I thought you weren't getting involved?” Hunk asked the hallway. Keith's head popped up around the corner.

“I'm not,” Keith replied. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

Hunk nodded, smiling. “Respect.” Keith retreated, and Hunk returned his attention to Lance. “So. Bisexual. You.”

“I am not!” Lance hissed, glaring at the corner that Keith had retreated around. “And it isn't a crush. There is no crush. No crushing is happening.”

“Then why are you so red?” Hunk asked. “You look like Keith's armor.”

“He does not!” Keith called out from around the corner. “And I'm still not involved.”

“Quiznacking bat ears,” Lance moaned, slumping against Hunk. “It's not a crush,” he weakly defended. “It's just his chest. And face. And smile. And the way his hair flowed in the wind.”

“That is professionally known as a crush,” Hunk said, patting Lance on the back. “Accept it into your life. Embrace it, even.”

“No~.” Lance pressed his face into Hunk's chest. “I can't.”

“The heart wants what it wants,” Hunk said. “Do it. Do him.”

Lance choked. Around the corner, clear sounds of Keith choking could be heard.

“Do not!” Keith shrieked. “Stop encouraging this!”

“I will not keep young love from blooming,” Hunk replied, still patting Lance on the back. “This romance is like a souffle, Keith. Our beautiful souffle needing tender care to properly rise.”

'No~,” Lance repeated, quietly begging the universe for some way out.

“Guys, come down to Green's hangar!” Pidge's voice cut through the intercom, and Lance was never more grateful for an interruption. “I found something you should see.”

Dragonflies the size of Pidge's arm buzzed in the air, and Lance found Olkarion to be a beautiful place despite the hugeness of the insect population.

So long as it didn't have space mosquitoes, he was perfectly fine with staying on the planet while they repaired the Castle.

“Pidge, I'm not setting the forest on fire.” Keith's voice drifted across the group, and Lance spotted Pidge glaring at the forest in disgust. “This is Endor. We are literally on the forest moon of Endor. It's so beautiful.”

Pidge grinned, sharp and viscious. “I'm going to punt and Ewok.”

“No attacking the locals,” Lance called out, moving toward them. “And no setting anything on fire. We're here to save the planet, not destroy it.”

A dragonfly landed on Pidge's head. They shrieked, trying to get it off. Keith smiled, moving toward a tree. Lance watched Keith look up, and at the tree trunk, and winced. Hunk stepped over, grabbing Keith and hoisting him over one shoulder.

“Hey!” Keith squirmed in protest. “I wasn't doing anything!”

“I know that look,” Lance replied. “It's usually followed by something stupid.”

“It wasn't a stupid idea,” Keith defended. “I was just curious if the tree could be climbed.”

“Stupid idea,” Lance repeated sagely. He grinned. “Man, if this is what it's like to be leader, I could get used to it. Ordering Keith around feels nice.”

Pidge raised their bayard threateningly. The dragonfly in their head continued resting there.

“Don't attack nature,” Lance said. Ahead of them, Shiro was checking the coordinates. The dragonfly tilted its head toward Lance. It grinned at him, mouth full of human-looking teeth. “Um.”

“What?” Shiro glanced back, looking from Lance to the dragonfly grinning at him. Shiro tensed. “Pidge. Don't move.”

Pidge looked from Lance to Shiro. “The dragonfly thing is evil, isn't it?”

“No!” Lance yelped. “Not evil. Nature is not the enemy. No attacking nature.”

The dragonfly seemed to nod, buzzing off of Pidge's head and into the forest. Everyone watched it leave.

“At least,” Lance amended, trying to get the image of the dragonfly's teeth out of his mind, “not unless nature attacks first.”

Lance really wanted the mission to rescue King Lubos to go perfectly. He had Pidge drop the BLIP into the building, waiting for the mapping to come up before making a final decision.

“Huh,” Pidge said. “That's weird.”

“What?” Lance approached Pidge, peered over their shoulder at the plans showing up on Green's HUD. “What's weird?”

“I'm only getting a reading for two figures.” Pidge pointed at the two dots on the screen. “One of those is King Lubos. The other is the Galra commander. But I'm not reading anyone else.”

“No one?” Lance looked out at the building worriedly. “Not even those robot drones?”

“Nothing.” Pidge looked at Lance. “What do we do, Boss?”

Lance's gut twisted at being called that.

“We go in,” Lance said.

“You sure?” Hunk asked, peering over Pidge's other shoulder. Keith and Shiro looked at the screen too, at the two figures showing up on the map. “It could be a trap. I'm calling trap.”

“What would they even hit us with?” Lance asked, gesturing at the map. “The Galra and King Lubos are literally the only ones showing up on our scans.”

“The commander could be scary strong,” Shiro said. “Sendak was like that.”

“You're forgetting, we beat Sendak,” Lance pointed out.

“The building could be a huge death trap,” Hunk offered, squinting at the map like it would unveil whatever secrets were at hand.

“Then we'll cut our way out,” Keith flatly replied, pulling Hunk away from the screen so he could see.

“Stealth mission,” Lance reminded Keith. “No hacking or slashing if we can avoid it. Get the king, get out, then create a distraction so the Olkari can take back their planet.”

“It won't be that easy, Lance,” Shiro murmured, tapping his lip in thought. Lance stared, and didn't miss the pointed glance Hunk gave Keith and Pidge.

“But it's the best plan we've got.” Lance sighed, turning back to face the screen. “Fly us back over. We'll do a drop. Circle around and stay near the part of the building the king is being kept in. We'll grab him and go your way. If things get too bad, bust in and we'll pull out. Whatever deathtrap that building's been turned into, it probably wasn't made expecting Voltron.”

In retrospect, Lance should have expected things to go apples and bananas.

First, it turned out that King Lubos had willingly surrendered the planet over to the Galra, and was freely sharing his technology and information with them.

Second, it totally was a trap. The Galra commander was hiding behind a wall, inside a room invisible to the BLIP until it wasn't.

Third, and this was the one that Lance couldn't get past, Keith took King Lubos hostage.

“What the cheese!” Lance desperately wished he had his bayard on him, so that he could at least take on the drones with the rest of the team instead of his current plan of taking the King and his attendant and making a run for it. “Keith, what are you doing?”

“Something stupid!” Keith replied, his bayard pressed against the neck of King Lubos.

“This isn't what I meant!” Lance hissed as the drones readied to fire. The commander laughed.

“What's this?” he asked, voice dripping with mockery. “I heard that Volton was supposed to be an elite fighting unit. It sounds to me like you're just a bunch of upstarts with no leadership.”

Lance growled, ripping Shiro's bayard out of his hand. The rifle appeared, and Lance sighted the commander between the eyes.

“Try me,” Lance snarled. He was not pleased with the way this mission was turning out. “Let's see which of us ends up coming out of this alive. I'm betting not you.”

The wall exploded inward, and Lance adjusted his aim. Three of the drones went down, one shot each to the head, dead center. Lance shoved Shiro's bayard back at him, grabbing the attendant while Keith shoved King Lubos toward the Green Lion.

Green's mouth opened and Lance leapt inside, Hunk hot on his heels. King Lubos shrieked as Lance grabbed hold of him, shoving him into the cockpit with his attendant. Shiro and Keith were behind them, and Lance didn't look back.

“What happened?” Pidge asked. “I didn't get everything.”

“Lubos gave up his planet,” Lance growled, glaring the the Olkari in question. “We found him watching some kind of intergalactic soap opera. Is everyone on board?”

“Yeah.” Pidge nodded. “They're here.”

“Then let's go.” Lance turned away from Pidge to glare at Keith. “What was that?”

“I had it under control.”

“Something stupid,” Lance parroted back at Keith. “I thought you were better in this universe but apparently you're exactly the same hothead you always were.”

Keith flinched, taking a step back. Shiro stepped in front of Keith, hands up and placating.

“Lance, I'm not happy about that either, but this isn't the time to get into that.”

Lance stared at Shiro, in the blue armor, before letting out a harsh breath. “Fine. Let's return the king to the Olkari. We'll let them deal with that mess.”

He wanted to yell at Keith, wanted to let out some of his anger, his frustration, but he couldn't. Keith nearly destroyed their mission, threatening to kill King Lubos.

Lance sat across from King Lubos, the Olkari refusing to look anyone in the eye. Shame colored his every action, and Lance couldn't find it in himself to hate the king. Shiro crouched down, placing a comforting hand on Lance's shoulder. Lance nodded, grateful.

There were all kinds of leaders, and Lance needed to focus on what they got right, not what had gone wrong. Keith's actions were unprofessional, but it was even worse for Lance to blow up at him while they were still on the mission. Lance thought that he was better than that. Acting on his emotions was Keith's thing, not Lance's.

Lance stared at King Lubos. “Do you know what that guy wanted from you? That commander.”

King Lubos jolted, looking at Lance wide-eyed. “Yes. He wanted designs for a weapons. Powerful. Unstoppable. More than Voltron.”

“Did you give it to him? The weapon?” Lance need to know. There were still a laundry list of things that could go wrong, and he didn't want to get caught off guard again, like they had with Ulaz.

Lance didn't want another failure on his hands.

“Yes.” Lane inhaled, felt Shiro tense up beside him.

“Is is functional?”

“It is.”

Lance let out his breath. This wasn't the time to panic. This was the time to lead.

“We drop off King Lubos and his attendant,” Lance began, slipping back into the role of leader. “And then we get to our lions. If we're fast enough we can get the commander's attention and keep that weapon for pointing at the Olkari.”

The weapon, as it turned out, was a gigantic version of Coran's chatback cube.

Except, of course, that instead of repeating back phrases, it repeated back anything done to it. It fired back their lasers, Shiro had pulled out the ice beam and Keith had had to thaw out Blue's head when Shiro's attack had gotten absorbed and reflected.

“Let's form Voltron,” Lance declared. “See how it likes getting chopped.”

Forming Voltron this time was easier. The tempest gave way to the hurricane, and Lance was once more at the center, directing it.

They pulled out their sword, slashing at the cube. Their attacks went through the cube like a hot knife through butter, and for the briefest of moments Lance basked in the smug satisfaction of a job well done.

Then the pieces of the cube reformed into their own cubes, all attacking Voltron.

“Quiznack!” Lance cursed, and let the hurricane disperse back into the individual lions. “I'm running out of ideas.”

A cube hit Green, and Pidge lost contact. Lance called out for them, wanted to send someone out to see if they were alright, if Green was still functional, but the cubes focused on the remaining lions. Black formed her mouth blade and Lance rushed his cube, cutting deep. He followed it up with Black's claws, and growled when the cube regenerated from the attacks and retaliated in more laser blasts.

At that point, Lance was hoping the Olkari pulled out something like the Balmera, some weapon of their own that could disable the cubes. At least then Lance could feel like he was doing something more than drawing attention away from the planet.

Green burst out of the forest, a blaster forming on her back. Over the comms, Pidge was laughing, and the rest of the team joined her as she blasted the cubes. Each blast made the cubes explode into plant life, vines and trees growing out of them.

The cubes fell to the forest floor, where the vines and trees took root and dug deep.

“So now we're using nature to attack?” Lance asked, a smile on his face.

“Nature is mine to command!” Pidge cackled.

Lance staggered onto the bridge, pulling off his helmet. His hair was plastered to his scalp, and Lance felt in need of a good long shower. It felt that way every time they formed Voltron, but here, as the Black Paladin, Lance felt it even worse. He was a central piece of Voltron, the one tying them all together.

“Keith!” Lance called out, walking past where Coran was showing Pidge and Hunk the dozen new chatback cubes the Olkari had gifted him with. He waved at Allura, promising to talk to her later about what happened on the planet. “We need to talk.”

“Lance.” Keith grimaced. “I know I shouldn't have done that back there. But I–”

“You reacted without thinking,” Lance interrupted him, too tired to pick a fight. “Which was stupid, and you seriously need to learn to stop that. You're really lucky it worked out this time, because it might not next time. You can't always charge in without thinking and expect to come out of it smelling like roses.”

“What?” Keith stared at Lance. “What does that even mean?”

“What's that thing you said back there,” Lance continued. “About patience.”

“Patience yields focus,” Shiro said, looking at Keith curiously. “I didn't know that stuck with you.”

Keith shrugged, shoulders slumping in embarrassment. “A lot of things stuck with me.”

“Look, I get the touching whatever-this-is happening here,” Lance gestured at Shiro and Keith. “But I do not care. Keith, I get that the Red Lion qualities are about relying more on your skill than your knowledge, but that's about flying. That does not apply to your life choices. Especially not on a mission.” Lance groaned. “And just a reminder, but our mission was the rescue King Lubos and return him to his people. Alive. Where you actually going to follow through and kill the guy we were sent to rescue?”

“No!” Keith looked from Lance to Shiro, scandalized. “I wasn't.”

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man~!”

“Then why did you–” Lance cut himself off, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, Shiro, take over for me. I'm too tired to get into this.”

“I don't know what to say.” Shiro shook his head. “I don't like what you did, but try not to do it again, okay?”

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man~!”

Lance stared at Shiro, and at Keith, who shakily nodded his head.

“Good.” Shiro nodded, giving Keith a smile. “Now that that's settled, we can–”

The alarms went off, and Lance groaned. Slipping his helmet back on, he turned toward Allura.

“What now?” he grumbled, and froze when the screen brought up the rear cameras, showing Zarkon's High Command behind the Castle.

“Oh, no.”

Chapter Text

Lance ran to his console, pulling up the ship's proximity scanner. Up on screen, Zarkon's ship loomed, cutting off view of the space beyond. Lance looked over the scanner, his face growing grimmer with each passing moment.

“He's not alone,” Lance said. “There's at least twenty fleet ships with him, all armed with fighters.”

“How did he find us?” Allura gasped, still staring at the screen.

“That commander,” Keith offered, turning to look at Allura. “Maybe he radioed in to Zarkon from Olkarion.”

Lance didn't believe that, since they were at least one system away from Olkarion, and hadn't received any signal from the Olkari of Zarkon's imminent attack. It could be that Zarkon and his fleet got lucky, but Lance doubted that.

“Battle stations!” Shiro barked as Lance opened his mouth to speak. Everyone jumped to attention, and Shiro paused when he spotted Lance. “Lance, go to your station.”

“But I–” The words died in Lance's throat, sticking there for him to harshly swallow as he remembered. This wasn't his universe. His station was the blue one, back near Hunk. “Right. Got it.”

“We need to wormhole away,” Shiro began as Lance vacated the seat and dashed toward the blue seat. “Keith, Lance, help me lay down cover fire.”

“We need distance,” Allura stated, already at the helm. “We're too close to the attack. If any of Zarkon's forces follow us into the wormhole, it will be pointless.”

“Then get us that distance.” Shiro pulled up his screen, and Lance pulled up his drone, taking the controls. The particle barrier rose as Lance piloted his drone, taking out Galra fighters. “Hunk, keep an eye on our defenses. Pidge, you're on radar. You guys are the eyes and ears.”

“Got it!” Pidge pulled up their console, tapping away while Hunk groaned and squinted at his own console.

“Can we even use the wormholer?” Lance cried, arms moving so the drone would dodge when the fighters blasted him back. “I thought you said it needed a quintant to cool off.”

“It's been a few vargas short of a full quintant, but we can manage a wormhole just fine, Lance,” Allura replied. “Now focus on defending the Castle.”

“Lance, three fighters, high noon!”

“I'm on it!” Lance set his game face on, ready to blast them, only for Keith to knock him out of the way, taking out the fighters.

“Got them!” Keith crowed, and Lance groaned in frustration.

“This isn't the time, Skywalker,” Lance called out, redirecting the drone to the area Keith left open, taking out another five fighters.

“Stick to your areas, Lance, Keith,” Shiro scolded, and Lance gave Shiro a soft glare before returning his drone to the upper corner of the Castle he was protecting.

“I'm trying,” Lance muttered. The Castle shuddered, the particle barrier under fire. Louder, he said, “Hunk, update!”

“Uh!” Hunk straightened up, before squinting at the screen. “Particle barrier is – I-I don't know, I'm tired and this is all in Altean. I think we're holding at eighty percent?”

“I am so learning Altean!” Pidge snarled. “Shiro, you've got a dozen fighters closing in from the left.”

“Keith, help me out.” Shiro maneuvered, taking out five of the fighters as Keith moved to take down the rest from above. Lance groaned, covering Keith's now-open area, shooting down another four fighters.

The Castle lurched, and everyone bucked. Lance's shot missed a fighter entirely, and he glanced over at Allura worriedly.

“Hold on!” Allura cried. “I'm going to use this nearby moon's gravitational orbit to boost our speed.”

A slingshot, Lance recognized.

“Let's pull back,” Lance ordered, already directing the drone back toward the Castle. “Let's let the slingshot take care of anything else.”

“No!” Shiro countered. “Stay in your area, Lance. We're not giving up until the wormhole is active.”

Lance growled, but accepted Shiro's orders. He wasn't giving up, and he wanted to say as much – but this wasn't the time, not when they had Zarkon literally breathing down their necks. The Castle entered the Moon's orbit, and it rumbled and shuddered from the gravitational pull. Lance set the drone close, taking notice when Shiro and Keith did the same a moment later.

Close to twenty drones and a fleet ship was following along, and Lance took careful aim. He didn't expect a perfect shot, far from it, but was glad when he managed to hit the fleet nonetheless. The pursuing ship had a small explosion from the shot, and Lance's grin widened when it was pulled far enough off course to end up caught in the planet's gravity. The drones were similarly caught up, unable to maneuver away from the gravity of the moon.

“I'm setting the wormhole now!” Allura called out, and Lance recalled the drone while Shiro and Keith did the same. Ahead, a wormhole appeared, but Lance kept an eye on the scanner, ready to set out one last attack. Several Galra fighters were behind, pulling out of the moon's field, but they were too far back to be a problem. Lance swapped over to the rear cameras, and saw the shadow of Zarkon's ship on the far side of the moon.

They entered the wormhole, and Lance lost sight of the moon and the ship. Dismissing the console, Lance gripped onto the chair tightly. Outside, the wormhole flickered with blue lightning, and Lance was reminded, distantly, of the way there had been black lightning coursing through the destabilized wormhole, tinting it a dark purple.

“Something's wrong,” Lance breathed, whipping his head over to look at Allura. Louder he said, “Something's wrong!”

His cry was lost to the alarm, still blaring. Red flashed over everything, and Lance felt his chest start to constrict. Something was wrong with the wormhole.

“We're in the wormhole, why is the alarm still going off?” Hunk cried, pulling away from his console.

The Castle shuddered, and Lance saw the end of the wormhole. His breath caught in his throat, and he readied for anything.

They came out near a field of ice crystals, the alarms cutting off. The Castle was quiet, save for the heavy breathing of everyone. Lance wheezed out his breath, laughing.

“Are you laughing?” Keith turned in his seat to stare at Lance. Lance caught Keith's eye and doubled over in breathless laughter.

At the helm, Allura collapsed. Lance slipped off his seat, the laughter swiftly dying as he stumbled to Allura's side. Shiro got there first, helping Allura up, while everyone gathered by her.

“Is everything alright?” Shiro asked, holding Allura close. “You're not–”

“I'm quite fine,” Allura replied, peeling herself out of Shiro's hold and into a seated position. “That wormhole took a lot more out of me than I expected.”

“No wonder!” Coran hummed, stepping toward the helm – and sliding past to slam into the wall. He peeled way from it, and Lance stared at the wet outline Coran had left behind, as well as the line of slickness that laid his trail. “Ah. One of the coolant pipes must have ruptured. Someone should clean that up.”

Lance stared at Coran, who was sweating so heavily he looked like he'd been drenched in water. “Coran, you're sweating. A lot.”

Allura giggled. “Coran, it appears you've got the Slipperies.”

“What?” Coran bristled. “I do not!”

He wagged a finger at Allura, meant to be chastising, but the effect was lost when a huge drop of sweat gathered on Coran's fingertip and flung off, splatting on the floor. Lance stared from the drop to Coran.

“Uh.” Hunk raised a hand. “What's the Slipperies?”

“It's a common Altean virus,” Allura explained, looking far too amused about the situation for anyone's liking. Coran looked to be patting himself dry, but it only served to make more beads of sweat gather over his body and slide down into the growing puddle at his feet. “It only affects older Alteans. It's not contagious, and it will fade away in two or three quintants.”

“Is it not contagious to Alteans, or is it not contagious is general?” Lance asked, eying the puddle warily. “Also, should we be concerned about Coran sweating so much? Won't he get dehydrated?”

“It isn't contagious,” Allura repeated, looking at Lance curiously. “And Coran will be perfectly fine. The Slipperies cause one to secrete extremely slick fluid from everywhere on the body.”

“And I do not have it!” Coran declared, hopping out of the puddle. “The Slipperies are for old Alteans, and I am not old.” At Allura's bland stare, he amended, “I am merely older than you lot.”

A huge glob of sweat gathered on the back of Coran's hand, dropping into the second puddle that was rapidly forming around Coran's feet. Pidge covered their mouth, dashed toward their seat, and hurled. Lance raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Of course,” Allura placated Coran, still sounding far too amused for anyone's liking.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I must check on the teludav.” Coran turned on his heal, and turned and turned, doing a full rotation and a half before stopping facing the door. “The fact that we pulled out of the wormhole so soon is very unuuuuuu–”

Coran cut off as he slipped on the puddle, sliding through the open door and out into the distance. Lance stared at the puddles left behind, and carefully sidestepped them as he made his way over to Pidge.

“Hey,” Lance softly said, reaching out to rub at their back. “Feeling better?”

“Ugh.” Pidge curled up in their chair, but nodded. “You're such an older brother.”

“Yes,” Lance agreed, standing up straight. “Yes, I am.” Turning to Allura, Lance was glad to see her getting to her feet. “We came out early? Should we be worried about Zarkon catching up?”

“Not at all,” Allura replied, still looking at Lance curiously. She waved a hand, and the main console appeared before her. “There are several galaxies between our current location and Zarkon. Even so, there is no method possible to track a wormhole's destination.”

“It's been ten thousand years for you,” Lance gently reminded her.

Allura waved him off. “Even so, it is still not possible. The only way for Zarkon to track us would be if he were on the ship himself, or had one of his Galra on board.”

Behind Shiro, Keith flinched.

“We are safe,” Allura continued, “and once again, Zarkon does not know where we are.”

“Then we should rest up,” Shiro said, helping Allura away from the helm. Lance walked over, hopping over the slick trail that Coran had left behind – and really, someone was going to end up cleaning that up, so Lance was already wondering who to enlist to help him – and reaching out tentatively.

“Need some help?” Lance offered, holding out a hand, and Shiro rolled his eyes with a mild look of annoyance. Allura looked at Lance's hand before shaking her head.

“I am quite fine,” Allura declared, shaking herself free of Shiro's grip. She stepped back onto the podium. “Thankfully, we have come out in a quiet part of the universe.”

“That's good,” Shiro agreed. “I wanted to look into the coordinates of the Blade of Marmora anyway. Pidge, do you think you can bring them up?”

“Ugh,” Pidge repeated, reaching out for their console. “Maybe? I don't have my laptop, so I can't exactly do a simple input. I can't even tell what any of this gibberish means.”

“It's Altean, and it's a beautiful language,” Allura chastised Pidge. “If you like, I can direct you to a program meant for language learning. It can only teach you the basics, such as our alphabet and some simple words, but it should–”

“Sold!” Pidge shot up, looking more alive than Lance had seen them since leaving Olkarion. “Where's this program? Give it to meeee~!”

“No.” Lance reached out and placed a firm hand on their shoulder. “Sleep first, then language learning.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Pidge coldly declared, shrugging off Lance's grip. They faced Allura with a darkly determined look. “Give me the secrets to your language.”

“Ah!” Coran's face popped up on the main screen, shiny with sweat. Lance winced when Coran slipped and fell, popping back up with a bump on the center of his forehead. “Hello there. I have good news and bad news. The good news is, the Galra did minimal damage. I flushed the turbine, and our engines are in a right shape. The bad news is, several of the scaultrite lens stones of the magnifying beam generator, or wormholer as you Earthlings call it, have cracked. I can get the teludav working again, but it will be a fair few vargas before that happens. And I will need to divert power to do so. It won't be easy, but I can manage to remove the cracked lenses and set about a temporary trajectory readjustment until we can replace the lenses. Number Five, if you and Hunk could come and help, the readjustment can go along much faster. I seem to be having some trouble maintaining a firm grip on the lenses.”

“I'm out.” Hunk held up his hands, stifling a yawn. “My brain is fried. I couldn't readjust trajectories if I tried.”

“Very well then,” Coran accepted, nodding along. “Then it will just be me and Number Five. What do you say, Number Five?”

“Just once,” Pidge muttered, too low for it to carry far, “just once, I'd like him to actually say my name. He has to know it.”

Lance patted Pidge on the shoulder sympathetically. “Don't kill him,” Lance said. “He's the only one who knows how to fix anything on this ship.”

“Dude!” Hunk breathed, betrayed.

“The only one who knows how anything works in this ship without having to take it apart first,” Lane amended. “Now again I say: sleep first, language learning later.”

“No sleep!” Pidge hissed, before turning toward the video screen with a viscious smile on their face. “Okay, Coran. I'll help you – but only if you help me learn to read Altean.”

Coran beamed. “Excellent, Number Five! I used to be a teacher myself, you see. I'll have you reading and speaking Altean like a natural-born scholar by the next astral corflux!”

The video cut out, and Pidge's grin got wider.

“And I'll have you saying my name by the end of the day.” Pidge whirled on their feet, carefully avoiding the puddles of sweat and leaving the room. Hunk followed, while Shiro and Keith remained standing by the helm. Allura guided the Castle into the ice crystal field, setting it hidden within a hollow ice crystal.

“Excellent.” Allura nodded to herself. “And now I am off to get some rest.”

“Some rest sounds great,” Lance enthused. “I'm going to clean up all this,” Lance gestured at the puddles of sweat, “and then... I don't know. Usually I'd swim to relax, but there aren't any pools in the Castle.”

A pool?” Allura tilted her head. “Ah! I believe I know what you're talking about. There is a pool in the Castle, actually. It's on level seven, if I remember correctly.”

“What.” Lance stared at Allura in disbelief. “Are you serious? There's seriously a pool in the Castle.” Lance grinned, reaching over the playfully shove at Shiro. “We should check it out.”

Shiro looked at Lance's arm, then at Lance. He sighed. “I'm staying here, looking at those coordinates for the Blade of Marmora headquarters.”

Lance winced. “Are you sure about the pool?”

“I'm sure,” Shiro stated.

“Alright.” Lance hopped over the sweat trail. “But I'm still bringing enough Altean mops for multiple people. I am not cleaning up Coran's sick slick alone.”

Keith made a face. “Ew.”

“Too late,” Lance declared, smiling. “Team bonding, all three of us. It's happening. No getting out of it. Come along, Young Skywalker. Maybe I'll even let you wave the mop like a lightsaber.”

Keith perked up, even if he still looked wary at the thought of cleaning up Coran's sweat puddles. “No judgment?”

“Only if you go easy on the lightsaber battle we're definitely having,” Lance replied. He gestured at the door. “After you.”

Keith looked from Lance to Shiro and Allura, and jogged out of the room. Allura and Shiro stared at the empty door and back to Lance in surprise.

“Wow, Lance,” Shiro began, looking at Lance impressively. “I didn't think you and Keith could talk without fighting.”

Lance's grin faded, and he lowered his hand, just a little. “Look, about earlier. I wasn't going to pick a fight with Keith. I was just going to scold him about taking King Lubos hostage.”

“Really?” Allura raised her eyebrows. “Keith did that?”

“And we talked about it,” Shiro cut in, looking at Lance exasperatedly. “Keith won't do it again. He reacted without thinking.” Shiro sighed, his expression softening. “But it's good to hear that you're on good terms with Keith in your universe.”

“Yeah, we're like brothers.” Lance puffed up, pride in his voice. He looked at Allura expectantly. “Now, didn't you say something about getting some rest yourself?”

“I did, yes,” Allura agreed, and moved to leave the room. “I do not know what a lightsaber is, but do not ruin the bridge with the battle.”

“Wouldn't dream of it!” Lance called back. He turned to Shiro, grinning. “I should go tell Keith where the mops are, actually. He's probably wandering the halls with that excited puppy look.”

“He probably is,” Shiro agreed, looking Lance over, like he was appraising him.

“Look, if you wanted to talk about Ulaz–” Lance began, but Shiro placed a hand over his mouth.

“No.” Shiro said it so firmly that Lance wilted. “I'm fine. Stop worrying about me.”

Lance took a step back, freeing his mouth. “No promises.”

True to form, Keith won the lightsaber battle. Not that Lance didn't put up a decent fight, but he preferred blasters to swords and lightsabers.

Shiro watched the two of them play out their battle with amusement, before shooing them away when the fight got too animated. The two of them left the room laughing, mop handles clashing. They both tried to keep from making the lightsaber noises, but once Lance blocked Keith's first slash they were gone.

Lance blocked a downward slash, stepping back to steady himself, and fell backwards. Keith took advantage, knocking the mop out of Lance's hand and holding the tip toward his face.

“Give up, Sith Lord,” Keith declared, grinning. “I have the high ground.”

Lance held up his hands in defeat, falling onto his back. “My blade is lost. You've won, Jedi.”

Keith chuckled, shouldering his mop handle and reaching out to help Lance up. “That was fun. I haven't gotten to do something like that in a long time.”

“I'm sure you could convince Shiro,” Lance said, using Keith's proffered hand to pull himself to his feet. “Maybe even once he has his bayard back, you could do mock battles to train.”

“Oh yeah!” Keith got a look of dawning comprehension. “You know what Shiro's bayard transforms into.”

“I do,” Lance agreed. “But I'm not telling. Why ruin the fun.”

“What fun?” Keith asked, bending to pick up Lance's fallen mop.

“The fun of all of you discovering what it is alongside Shiro,” Lance replied.

Keith nodded along, considering Lance's reply. “So you said the Black Paladin can use any of the bayards?”

“I did. It's truth.” Lance leaned forward, taking his mop from Keith. “What about it?”

“We're going to convince Shiro to try that with one of our bayards,” Keith declared.

Lance laughed. “I'm game. But only if we can get Pidge and Hunk in on this. I don't think you and me alone would be able to convince Shiro.” He paused. “I mean, we could convince Shiro ourselves, but why make Hunk and Pidge feel left out like that? And that way it can be, like, team bonding.”

Keith squinted at Lance. “You treat everything like a team bonding experience.”

“Because anything we do together, any of us, is a team bonding experience,” Lance explained. “Even movie nights. You'd be surprised how often we all make the lightsaber noises when Voltron uses the sword.”

Keith snorted, hand covering his mouth to hold in his laughter. “Now that I'll only believe if I see it.”

“Guess you'll just have to trust my word on the matter,” Lance propped the mop on his shoulder. “Want to come with me and check on Hunk?”

“Isn't he asleep?” Keith asked, eying Lance suspiciously.

“Hunk cooks when he's tired,” Lance explained. “It clears his head, so he can actually rest up when he gets to bed. The problem is, sometimes he uses stuff that shouldn't be in food, or a kitchen, or anywhere near either of those things ever.”

“Seriously?” Keith raised and eyebrow. Lance nodded knowingly.

“Our first year at the Garrison, Hunk didn't get sleep for like three days before finals. Somehow he made his way into the cafeteria kitchen with a huge tub of motor oil and half the medical cabinet. Nearly blew up half the place making brownies.”

“How does motor oil fit into making brownies?” Keith asked, looking far too lost for the conversation. Lance couldn't blame him, and shrugged.

“Heck if I know, but he got points in his mechanical engineering class for them. Apparently he created some new heat-resistant polymer instead of, you know, actual brownies.” Lance shrugged, walking toward the kitchen. “Guy's a genius, but he's scary when he's cooking and tired.”

Keith's brow furrowed. “How do you just create a–”

The alarm went off, and Lance shared a wide-eyed look with Keith before they both ran to the bridge. Rounding a corner, they nearly crashed into Hunk and Pidge, and together they ran into the bridge.

“What's happening?” Lance asked, skidding to a stop. On the screen, he saw Zarkon's ship. “What? How did he find us again? He can't do that? Can he do that? He can't do that!”

If Zarkon could just find them whenever he wanted, then it was just unfair.

“I don't know!” Allura stood at the bridge. “But we must start moving through the ice field. We can use it to make another teludav jump. Pidge, go down and help Coran make the adjustments.”

“So soon?” Lance shared a worried look with Hunk.

“But won't that break the wormholer?” Hunk asked. “That's a lot of strain.”

“The teludav won't break,” Allura assured them, frowning as she did so. “But I would still get to your stations. The Castle is in no shape to defend itself.”

“She's right.” Hunk looked over his screen as Lance took the blue seat, pulling up the controls for the drone. “Power's being diverted from all over to the wormholer.”

“Teludav,” Allura corrected him.

“Still, how did he find us?” Lance asked, firing at the fighters that swarmed after the Castle. “The Castle didn't get hit with a tracker, did it? Or the lions?”

“If there were any signal coming from the Castle, I would know,” Allura answered. Lance's controls glitched out, the console vanishing.

“I'm out!” Lance dropped his hands.

“Don't worry, I got you!” Keith's controls glitched out too, his own console vanishing. Lance glanced over to see the same thing happen to Shiro. “Or not. I guess it's a software problem.”

“Guys!” Pidge appeared on the main screen beside Coran. “We're diverting power from a lot of non-essential systems to get the teludav working.”

“Shooting at the guys shooting at us is considered essential, Pidge,” Lance growled, leaning forward in the seat.

“How long before we can wormhole out of here?” Shiro asked, looking between Allura and Coran.

“Soon!” Coran answered, sliding across the screen. Pidge reached out and, with a full-body shudder, took hold of Coran and pulled him into view of the screen. “The generator is functional, but the teludav jump won't be far. I'd say a dozen systems at most.”

“The big problem is it could shatter some of the–” Pidge squinted at the screen before them. “Coran, I can't read that.”

“Scaultrite!” Coran answered. “The scaultrite lenses might shatter from the strain of this next jump.”

“Guys, the particle barrier's down!” Hunk called out, before his console disappeared. “And I just lost power to my console.”

“Then let's make this count,” Shiro declared. He turned to Allura. “Make the jump.”

Allura nodded, and Lance clutched the arms of the seat tightly as a wormhole opened before them, blue lightning arcing across it.

The wormhole was over as soon as it began, and Lance let out a shuddering breath. He didn't think he would be okay with making a – what did Coran call it? – a teludav jump anytime soon, not after the disaster with the corrupted wormhole that landed him in this other universe.

The space they exited into was quiet, again, and the view showed a huge space storm ahead.

“How did he find us there?” Lance repeated to the bridge.

“I–” Allura looked so scared and lost. “I don't know.”

“We can go into the storm,” Pidge offered on screen, while Coran skated along behind her. “The readings, if I'm reading this right–”

“You are indeed, Number Five!”

“The scans,” Pidge growled out, looking like they wanted nothing more than to maul Coran, “are saying that it's a big metallic storm. It will scramble any kind of transmission from registering us.”

“Excellent idea, Pidge!” Allura praised. “Inside, we will be invisible to radio, radar, universal scans. All known methods of scanning and tracking.”

“Okay, I hate to bring this up again, but it's been ten thousand years,” Lance stressed, feeling the exhaustion of the day weigh down on him. “I'm all for the hiding in the big space storm, but we can't stay there forever.”

“We don't have any other choice, Lance,” Shiro growled as Allura began to pilot the Castle into the eye of the space storm. “Zarkon keeps finding us, and we can stay in the eye until we figure out how he's doing it.”

“Who knows, maybe he's not using conventional means to track us!” Lance retorted, standing. “He went out in open space without wearing a protective suit and beat up the Red Lion with practically his bare hands. Maybe it's not technology he's using to track us.”

“That's ridiculous!” Shiro argued. “It has to be by some way we can stop.”

“We pilot magical space lions, Shiro,” Lance groaned, running his hands over his face. “Look, fine. Let's hide out in the storm and see if it's something on our end that's sending out a signal. Something the Castle wouldn't know or recognize as a signal.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, making the phrase sound like a berating. Lance stared at Shiro, feeling far too betrayed. “Now get back to your station.

“Is this because I'm–”

“It's me.” Lance was cut off when Allura spoke. He looked at her in surprise. “It's been me all along. That's how he was able to find the Castle on Arus. And again on the Balmera.”

“Whoa, hold the phone.” Lance held up his hand, moving toward Allura. “It's not you. Otherwise Zarkon would have known we were going after that secret base and set up some kind of trap.”

“But Arus–”

Lance cut her off. “Look, I don't know how he found the Castle on Arus. That one still bugs me. But the Balmera? The Galra set up a trap to capture us because Coran and Hunk went there. Zarkon knew we were going back there. Pretty much the same when we went after the center of the empire to rescue you.” Lance took Allura by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. “It isn't you.”

“I...” Allura looked at all of them. “I suppose it isn't me, when put like that.”

The alarm went off, and Lance stared at the screen, stared as Zarkon's ship appeared above the storm. “Oh, come on!”

“I don't get it!” Pidge cried, frustration heavy in their voice. “We're invisible to literally all form of communication and tracking known to Humans and Alteans. How did he find us here?”

“I don't know.” Shiro glanced at Allura. “But let's lead them away from the Castle. Zarkon wants Voltron, so let's get to our lions. We'll form Voltron and lead the attacking forces into the storm.”

“What?!” Lance stared at Shiro in shock. “The storm? What, are you nuts?!”

“Yeah!” Hunk agreed, standing. “What do you mean? Why would we do that?”

“It's a metallic storm, Shiro,” Lance pointed out. “Big and sharp chunks of metal flying at high speeds.”

“It will rip them apart,” Shiro said.

“It will rip us apart!” Hunk countered.

“Stop arguing with me and get to your lions already!” Shiro snapped. “We're going to form Voltron.”

Lance didn't like the plan, and he knew his dislike could be felt all throughout the bond that connected Voltron. The storm was destroying the fighters, but it was also battering around Voltron.

“We can't take the storm for much longer,” Hunk declared, and Lance agreed. They were threatening to destroy Voltron entirely just to give the Castle time to get away. Going into the storm was, in theory, a good plan; in practice, it felt like something close to suicide.

“The Castle is clear, let's leave the storm behind,” Shiro ordered. “We'll lead Zarkon away from the Castle.”

Voltron ascended out of the storm, coming to a level with Zarkon's ship. Lance wanted to use the lasers, or have Hunk pull out his bayard – some kind of ranged attack that they could use to cripple Zarkon's ship so it wouldn't be able to follow them anymore. Instead, Shiro had them leading Zarkon away from the eye, clearing the way for the Castle to fly out.

Voltron shuddered, and Lance gasped. This was– it was–

Zarkon.

Lance didn't know how he could have ever forgotten this feeling, didn't know how he could have forgotten just how oppressing Zarkon was. It felt like there was a building pressing down on him, and–

Lance pushed the controls forward, pushed his all into moving, into breaking free. He felt as much as heard the others do the same, knew as much as they knew that if they didn't do something to break free, Voltron would break apart like it had before, and the Black Lion would shut down like before, and–

Lance gasped, feeling the pressure of Zarkon increase, and he stared at the cockpit in shock. He stared at his armor in shock.

He was back in Black.

Lance pressed forward, eyes screwed shut, and screamed his all toward breaking free. The pressure lessened, though not by much, and Lance cracked open his eyes to see he was back in Blue.

Zarkon's hold vanished, and Lance gasped, nearly slumping over in relief.

“What,” Lance gasped, taking heaving breathes. “What's happening?”

“Paladins, return to the Castle!” Allura ordered. “Coran is working to fix the teludav, but he cannot work alone.”

“Alright,” Shiro grunted. “I forgot how intense Zarkon's connection to the Black Lion is. Let's disband and return to the Castle.”

“You and me both,” Lance agreed, as Voltron fell back into five parts.

Lance stared over his shoulder at Coran, taking care not to move his arms. He tensed as gravity pulled him down, and hoped the magnets in his boots didn't mess with the teludav or the . “Uh, I think I moved! I think I moved!”

“Then move back to where you were before!” Coran shouted, skating outside of the teludav.

“Hey, this isn't going to, like, kill us, right?” Hunk asked, looking at Coran with concern. “How dangerous is this?”

Coran paused outside the chamber. “I'm going to be honest. This is the most dangerous thing I've ever seen or heard of, but since we're probably going to die anyway, what the heck, let's give it a shot!”

Everyone looked from Coran to Lance, and he wished he could shrug. He had no clue why they blamed him for that. “No idea. Not my universe.”

Shiro sighed, his expression flat. Coran saluted them. “Good luck, Paladins. It's been a pleasure.”

“...yeah, we're probably going to die.” Pidge nodded.

“If only,” Shiro blandly stated.

“Don't start with that again,” Keith warned.

“Would now be a bad time to admit–” Lance began, only for Hunk to cut him off.

“Dude! Don't say anything you wouldn't say if we weren't about to die!” Hunk paused, and amended, “Also, Don't say anything because we might survive, and it could be awkward.”

The chamber began to hum, and Lance tensed, checking that his arms were in the same position that Coran had told him to keep them in.

“Not that thing, Hunk,” Lance said, shutting his eyes. “I just – for a moment back there in Voltron I was back in the Black Lion in my universe!”

The room lit up, and Lance screamed as a beam shot out, heading straight for him.

The beam hit the cookie in Lance's right hand, and the chamber powered down.

“Uh.” Lance stared at the cookie. “What.” He looked at Shiro in surprise. “What just happened?”

“Hold on!” The chamber door opened for a moment, and Coran slid inside, the door shutting behind him. He stopped before all of the paladins, doing a full-body shimmy as he gathered up a bunch of sweat around his arms and head.

“What are you doing?” Hunk asked as the chamber began to hum. Coran sped forward, coating the cookies with his sweat. Lance didn't dare look back, instead closing his eyes as the chamber began to brighten once more.

“I'm shining up these makeshift lenses!” Coran answered, and Lance felt dry heat. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, the light of the teludav shone through, and Lance wondered if he would end up with a slight tan on his face because of it. It would be the worst tan line ever, but Lance could survive with it.

The Castle shuddered as it passed through the wormhole, and Lance counted the seconds, waiting for something to go wrong – either the teludav to shut down, or explode, or – Lance didn't even know.

After what felt like forever, the glow vanished, and the hum of the teludav died out. Lance cracked open his eyes.

“We're not dead,” he said, and coughed. His throat felt dry, and he hoped that none of them ended up with a nosebleed.

The door to the chamber opened, Allura poking her head in.

“We did it!” Allura cried, sounding far too chipper for Lance's liking, considering how closely with death he had just been.

The magnets on Lance's boots finally gave way to gravity, and Lance grunted as he landed in front of Shiro.

“Ow.” Lance looked up at Shiro, and grinned. “Still alive.”

“Still alive,” Shiro agreed, although there was a light smile. Everyone groaned as they stepped out of the chamber, and Coran seemed to be sparkling.

“Well, it seems more than one good thing came out of that plan!” Coran spun in place. “The teludav cleared me of the Slipperies!”

“Oh, that's...” Allura faltered. “Wonderful news.”

“How long do we have before Zarkon finds us again?” Shiro asked, looking at Allura determinedly.

“Several quintants, at least,” Allura replied. “Coran redirected power to the forward cannons and I dealt quite a bit of damage to Zarkon's ship. It won't be following us for quite a while.”

“Awesome.” Lance nodded, and yawned. “Guess that means it's high time to clean up and catch up on the sleep we've been missing out on.”

“Lance wait.” Lance paused, turning to look at Shiro. “What did you mean, you were back in the Black Lion?”

“What's he talking about?” Allura looked from Shiro to Lance. “You were in the Black Lion?”

“I was– For a moment, it seemed like,” Lance struggled to find the right words. “It felt like I was back in my universe. Just for a moment. I don't know what to make of that. I'm too tired to think straight.” Lance waved in the vaguest direction of his bedroom. “I just want to shower all this teludav... stuff off, and then sleep for, like, ever.”

“Dude, yes,” Hunk agreed, adding his own yawn. “Sleep sounds so nice.”

“Let's clean up, and get some sleep,” Shiro agreed. “And in the morning, we'll go over what to do next.”

“Great idea!” Lance clapped a hand on Shiro's shoulder. “C'mon, I want to sleep soon, and I know you're, like, you, but I'd like to sleep in your bed again.”

“You'd like to sleep where?” Hunk squeaked, looking from Shiro to Lance. Shiro was stiff as a board, before gently brushing Lance's hand off of him.

“Why don't you try sleeping in your own bed, Lance,” Shiro brusquely stated, walking out of the room. “You shouldn't get used to sleeping in my room.”

Lance watched Shiro go, and felt a little piece of his heart break.

“Right,” he said. “Sleeping on my own. Yeah. I can do that.”

“What is he talking about?” Keith demanded, grabbing Lance by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“It's nothing you should concern your head about, Keith,” Lance replied, yawning. “I'll explain it in the morning. It's been a very, very long day. Let's go to sleep.”

Chapter Text

The alarms blared, and Lance couldn't tear his eyes away from Zarkon's ship. A cold dread settled in his gut, pulling all his intestines inward. He swallowed, mouth dry.

“How did he find us?” Allura breathed, moving toward the helm.

“Maybe the commander radioed from Olkarion?” Keith offered, but it sounded flimsy even to Lance. They were at least a system over from Olkarion.

“Did they activate the distress beacon we gave them?” Pidge asked, worry heavy on their voice.

“We've received no communications from the Olkari,” Coran replied, pocketing his chatback cubes.

“Do we fight?” Hunk asked, his voice smaller than Lance liked. He glanced back at everyone, saw how they were looking at him for support, for leadership.

Lance set his face, turning back to face the screen. He didn't want to form Voltron again, not so soon after having been in battle. Not against Zarkon. He wasn't ready yet, and neither was his team. “No. Allura, can you use the– what did you call it, teludav? Can we use that, get a wormhole and get away from here?”

Allura's lips thinned, but she nodded. “I could. But we would need distance from the attacking fleet. Distance which we do not have.”

“Then let's buy you some time to put a bit of distance between us and him.” Lance started moving, slipping his helmet back on. It felt cool to his scalp, the sweat already dried. “Battle stations, guys! Keith, Shiro, you're with me. Let's pull up those drones and shoot down any Galra fighters that get too close. Pidge, keep an eye out for any we miss. Tell us about them. Hunk, you're keeping an eye on our defenses. The Castle already has damage, let's keep it from getting worse.”

Lance moved toward the black seat, pulling up the controllers for the drone fighter. His screen showed the particle barrier raising, and Lance saw dozens of Galra fighters circling the Castle. He piloted his drone to the upper part of the screen, shooting at any fighters within range.

The Castle shuddered, the particle barrier taking hits, and Lance growled, spreading his range as much as possible. He couldn't see Shiro or Keith's drones, but his screen kept showing fighters around the Castle vanishing from radar, so he figured they were doing their best, like him.

“Lance, above you, high noon!” Pidge called out, and Lance turned the drone, aiming and–

Keith's drone knocked into his, taking out the trio of fighters. “I got them!”

“Stick to your lane, Keith,” Lance snapped, knocking Keith out of the way to take over the huge gaping hole Keith had left in their defenses. He shot down another two fighters, and the Castle shuddered again. “If I needed help, I would say something.”

The Castled shuddered, hard, and Lance nearly lost control of his drone.

“What's happening?” Shiro called out, and Lance chanced a glance at the main screen.

“The Castle is moving as fast as our engines allow,” Allura replied. “But that isn't fast enough.”

“So how do we get more speed without blowing the engines?” Lance asked, shooting down three fighters.

“By using this moon,” Allura answered. The Castle rumbled, shuddered again. “We will use its gravitational orbit to boost our speed enough to gain the necessary distance to safely use the teludav.”

“Why can't we just use it now?” Lance asked.

“Should we head to our lions?” Keith spoke up, and Lance grit his teeth.

“No, we're not,” Lance answered Keith. “That wouldn't help the Castle.”

“Nor will opening a wormhole with Zarkon's forces so close,” Allura added. “If a single one of Zarkon's forces managed to follow us, then there would be no point.”

“Then do it,” Lance ordered. “Hunk, hold onto your stomach.”

“Ugh, I already am,” Hunk replied, sounding queasy. The Castle rumbled as the fighters kept up their onslaught. “Defenses are– holding, I think? This is all in Altean, and it's all blurring together. I think it says the particle barrier is at eighty percent?”

“Altean to English dictionary!” Pidge growled. “So making one!”

The Castle rumbled as they entered the moon's gravity field, and Lance pulled his drone in close, letting out an order for Shiro and Keith to do the same. More fighters followed, and Lance shot them down. Behind the fighters, a fleet ship appeared, hot on the Castle's tail. Atop it was an ion cannon.

“Quiznack,” Lance muttered, taking careful aim with the drone. “Keith, Shiro, cover me.”

“On it!” Keith replied, and Lance watched as several Galra fighters vanished from his radar. Lance flicked the screen, pulling up the video feed, and breathed in.

I can do this.

He held his breath, making the calculations in his mind. The boost in speed the Castle was getting, the curvature of the slingshot maneuver, the gravity of the moon.

I can do this.

Lance breathed out. The ion cannon lit up, about to fire. The Castle shuddered.

Lance pulled the trigger.

His shot rang out, hitting the ion cannon in the dead center of the barrel. He watched, letting out a breathless laugh, as the ion cannon lit up, the charged shot exploding early and taking the rest of the fleet ship with it. Debris flew out, hitting many of the fighters, exploding several, while the rest were knocked off course by the shockwave, pulled into the gravity of the moon and the planet it was orbiting.

“You did it!” Pidge cheered. “We're clear.”

“There's our sharpshooter!” Shiro proclaimed, and Lance felt warmth blossom in his chest.

Slumping back in his chair, Lance let the drone get recalled back into the Castle. “Allura? Are we clear to wormhole our way out of here?”

“Almost,” Allura grit out. Lance looked up at the screen, saw the clear space ahead of them. Lance stared at the rear video feed, still open on his console. They left the moon behind, lost sight of the destroyed ship, and Lance grinned.

They cleared the moon, and he saw Zarkon's ship looming behind it, moving toward them. Lance felt his heart sink, felt his smile begin to drop.

“Prepare for teludav jump!” Allura called out, and the Castle shuddered. Lance glanced at the main screen, seeing a wormhole appear before them. He began to chuckle, turning his attention to his console, where Zarkon's ship was circling the moon.

“Just try and follow us,” Lance muttered mockingly to the screen.

The Castle shuddered as it entered the wormhole, and Lance felt himself tense, hands gripping the arms of his chair in a white-knuckle grip. They were safe now, he knew, but he still couldn't be sure. The last time he had thought that, the wormhole had collapsed and he'd woken up in an entirely different universe.

He watched the rear video feed on his console carefully, looking for any sign of an attack from Zarkon's ship. Soon enough, the feed cut out, and Lance let out a harsh, shaky breath. Nothing happened. They were safe.

“Why are the alarms still going off?” Pidge cried, and Lance froze.

“Did something happen?” Lance cried, straightening in his seat and pulling up everything he could. On the main screen, the wormhole had lightning arc through it, so purely blue and bright it was almost blinding. “Is the wormhole collapsing?”

“Did we get hit by Zarkon again?” Shiro asked, and Lance turned to look at Allura. She looked strained, like she was using the helm to keep herself standing.

“We didn't,” Lance answered, glancing at Shiro. “I kept a close eye just in case. He didn't hit us.”

“Did one of the fighters slip into the wormhole with us?” Keith asked, reaching for the controls of his drone.

“Radar was clear,” Pidge replied. “Did one of those blasts hit harder than we thought?”

“I'm afraid it's a teludav lens malfunction,” Coran spoke up, and Lance whirled around to where Coran was furiously tapping at his own console. “We made the jump just a few vargas too soon. The magnifying beam generator can't handle the strain. The wormhole is stable, but we're going to come out of it earlier than expected.”

“How earlier?” Lance asked, and saw the end of the wormhole appear on the main screen.

The Castle came out near a field of ice, no stars or planets in close sight. Lance felt his shoulders relax, the alarms quieting down. Lance pulled off his helmet, wincing at how it clung to his hair, wincing at how sweaty he felt.

Behind him, Allura fell over with a cry.

“Princess!” Shiro cried, and Lance stumbled out of his chair, moving to check on Allura. She had collapsed onto the floor, and was shakily pulling herself up off it. Lance reached out with unsteady hands to help steady her, and she groaned.

“Allura?” Lance asked, uncertain.

“I'm fine,” she said, accepting his help. Shiro appeared at her other side, and together the three of them got Allura into a steady seated position. Allura looked at them both as they fussed over her, and she swatted their hands away like gnats. “I'm fine!” she repeated. “That teludav jump merely took more out of me than I was expecting.”

“We came out early,” Lance said, looking from her to Coran. The other humans gathered around the helm, concern for Allura heavy on their faces. “Zarkon. Will he be able to follow us?”

“Not to worry,” Coran said, puffing up. He looked fine, if a bit sweaty himself. “We managed to put several galaxies between ourselves and Zarkon. He won't be able to find us here.”

Lance nodded, relieved. “Good. That's good.”

“Lance are you okay?” Shiro asked, his voice low. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine,” Lance replied, waving him off. “It's been a long day. We should get some rest.”

“An excellent ideaaaaaaaaaaa~!” Coran took a step forward, and slid into the far wall, beside the door. He peeled himself off of the wall, leaving behind a wet imprint of his figure. “Ah! A coolant pipe must have burst. Should get that cleaned up.”

Lance watched as a puddle started forming at Coran's feet. Beside him, Allura giggled.

“Coran,” she began, amusement weighing her voice low. “You've got the Slipperies.”

“What?” Coran bristled, and Lance watched as several huge drops of sweat welled up and popped off of his arms. “I– I do not! This is just a – a burst pipe that needs fixing.” Coran hopped out of the puddle of sweat, a small shower of sweat falling away from him and dripping into the puddle. “Someone should get that fixed, soon as I check on the teludav and run diagnostics on the engines.”

Lance stared at the rapidly forming puddle at Coran's feet. “Are the Slipperies contagious?”

“Of course not,” Allura replied, smiling in amusement. “It's a common flu that only appears in older Alteans.”

“Exactly!” Coran waved a reproving finger at everyone. “And I am quite young.”

A huge glob of sweat gathered on Coran's finger before dripping down into the puddle at his feet.

“Well,” Coran amended, “young enough. But not so old that I could ever get the Slipperies!”

“It will pass in a couple of quintants,” Allura explained. “It's perfectly harmless – and normal, might I add.”

“Indeed,” Coran agreed. “Which is why I don't have it.”

“So he... sweats?” Keith asked, looking at Coran dubiously.

“Won't he get dehydrated?” Lance stared at the trail of slick sweat going from the forward console to the far wall.

“Of course not!” Coran sputtered, sweat raining down from his chin. “But that's only if I ever get it. The Slipperies are for old Alteans. I am merely older than you lot.”

“The Slipperies won't affect his hydration levels,” Allura answered. “All it does is make the afflicted secrete an extremely slick fluid. As I said, perfectly harmless.”

“So it's not sweat?” Pidge ran over to their seat, and Lance winced in sympathy as they hurled.

“It is sweat,” Allura confirmed. “But you have nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” Lance said, nodding. He turned to Coran, who looked entirely too put out. “Coran, will this...” Lance gestured at the puddles of sweat. “Uh. Will this need cleaning up?”

“Ah, there are some cleaner sticks in a nearby supply room,” Coran answered. At Lance's blank look, Coran explained. “Cleaner sticks are these poles about so long, with one end topped with an absorbent–”

“Okay!” Shiro loudly interrupted. “It's a mop. We got it. Don't worry, we'll clean this up.”

“Right!” Coran nodded, and the door opened behind him. “I'll just go and check the teludav and engine nooowwwwwwwww–”

Coran took a step forward, slipping on the puddle, and continued to slide out of the door, down the hallway, and into the distance.

“Okay,” Lance said, nodding. “I got to admit, I don't think anything could beat out bodyswapped with an alternate universe self, but this is a really close second place for weirdest stuff to encounter out in space.”

Lance wondered, for a brief moment, if Coran got the Slipperies back in his universe. If the other Lance was having to deal with it like Lance was.

Allura got to her feet. “I will pilot the Castle into the ice field. We can remain there while we finish the repairs.”

“And then rest,” Lance added when Allura wobbled on her feet. Keith stared at Lance, then at Pidge, and he sighed. Right. Hopping over the trail of sweat, Lance reached out and rubbed at Pidge's back, between their shoulder blades. “I think we could all use some rest.”

“I don't think I could sleep,” Hunk admitted. “That whole thing really rattled me, you know. I really need to relax.” Hunk nodded. “I'm going to go bake.”

“Same,” Pidge agreed, peering over their shoulder at Hunk. “But not about the cooking. I'm going to go learn the Altean alphabet.” They grinned. “Every language learning software has to start somewhere.”

“You want to learn Altean?” Allura perked up. “There's a language learning program you can access in the training room. It houses all recorded languages in the known universe.” Allura grimaced. “While it may be a bit... outdated, given the circumstances, I assure you that it can greatly aid you in learning Altean.” Allura grinned, stepping away from the helm as the Castle settled in the shadow of a huge ice crystal. “Perhaps I can set you up with the basic levels? Nothing a child couldn't handle.”

Pidge froze, squinting suspiciously at Allura. “An Altean child or an Earth child?”

“An Altean child,” Allura answered.

“No.” Pidge shook their head. “Not touching that. Nope.”

“What?” Allura looked affronted. “Why?”

“I haven't forgotten your gladiator bot, Princess,” Pidge dully said, sinking into their seat to sulk. They brought up their console, and Lance stepped away.

“Pidge makes a good point,” Lance added.

“The Altean stuff is kind of intense,” Shiro agreed. He looked over at Pidge. “Maybe instead you could look up the coordinates for the Blade of Marmora headquarters?”

“Ugh.” Pidge made a face, pulling away from their console. “See, that requires my laptop. Which I left in Keith's room.”

“Why do you keep leaving stuff in my room?” Keith asked, looking at Pidge beseechingly. “Why not leave it in Hunk's room? Make his bed smell like motor oil for once.”

“Second,” Pidge continued, giving no indication they had heard Keith. “I would need to connect it up to the main bridge, which I haven't done yet. Third, I...” Pidge trailed off, making a face. “I don't want to.”

“Pidge,” Lance nudged them. “Maybe consider sleep as an option?”

“Never,” Pidge replied, giving Lance a soft glare. “sleep is for the weak.”

“Pidge,” Lance repeated, staring down Pidge.

“Lance,” Pidge echoed back, matching Lance's stare.

“Hello!” Coran popped up on the main screen, and everyone jumped. They winced as Coran fell over with a hard-sounding thud, and when he popped back up with a huge lump in the center of his forehead. “Good news. The Galra did minimal damage. I've flushed the turbines and the engines are running smooth as scaultrite. Unfortunately, it looks like that teludav jump was a bit much. Several of the scaultrite lenses stones of the magnifying beam generator have cracked. I can get the teludav working again, but I'll have to divert power from several systems to do so. I also need some help removing the cracked lenses and performing a temporary trajectory readjustment until the cracked lenses can be replaced. My grip just doesn't seem to be enough.”

“How excellent!” Allura clapped her hands together. “Coran, perhaps Pidge and Hunk could help you?”

“Will I catch the Slipperies?” Pidge asked, eying Coran warily.

“I do not have the Slipperies!” Coran screeched, getting up close to the screen. He pulled away, clearing his throat and straightening himself. “But I will appreciate the help.”

“Count me out,” Hunk said, covering a yawn. “My brain is all fried. I need to do some baking. Clear my head.”

Hunk walked over to the door, leaving. Beside Lance, Pidge watched Hunk leave with envy.

“Fine.” Pidge whirled around to face the screen. “But only if you promise me that you'll teach me the Altean alphabet and how to read whatever is down there.”

“You want to learn Altean?” Coran seemed to preen, sparkling – although Lance wasn't sure if the glint of his sweat in the light counted as sparkling. “Marvelous! I can certainly teach you the basics. I'll have you on the level of an Altean scholar by the next astral conflux!”

“...yeah. Fun,” Pidge spoke in the least enthused voice Lance had ever heard out of them. “I just want to know what all of this,” Pidge gestured at the Castle, “means. And how it all works.”

“Well, Pidge, I'm sure you'll learn a lot under Coran,” Lance said, giving them a light tap on the back. “Go and help Coran. Learn Altean. Maybe you'll enjoy it?”

Pidge squinted at Lance. “You're such a mother.”

“No dessert for back-talkers,” Lance joked, waking a finger at Pidge. He sent Pidge off, laughing as they carefully avoided the sweat trail. He let out a heavy sigh, reaching up to rub at his neck. He made a face, pulling his hand away as his hair clung to his scalp. “Ew. Okay, so I think some rest for all of us is a good idea, yeah?”

“Some rest would be good,” Shiro agreed.

“So, Allura, why don't you go sleep and I can peel out of this armor and make myself feel a bit more...” Lance gestured at himself. “Me.”

“Do you want to join me up on the bridge after?” Shiro offered. “Someone should stay on watch.”

“I...” Lance hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that Shiro had such a presence that Lance didn't think he could handle it. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the night before. “Maybe? Let's see how tired I am after the shower.”

“Ugh.” Keith made a face, starting toward the door. “I'm going to get some sleep. I don't need to watch this.”

Allura moved to step in time alongside Keith. “Oh, but Keith, it's utterly adorable, don't you think?”

“Gag me,” Keith dryly replied. “The last thing I need is to watch–”

Keith cut himself off, looking back at Lance and Shiro in something close to horror, before running out of the room. Lance stared at the door in confusion, while Allura sighed.

“Well, it seems now I must take my leave.” Allura glanced back at Shiro and Lance, giving them both pointed stares. “Do enjoy this down time, gentlemen.”

“I plan to?” Lance made it sound far too much like a question for his liking. Allura swiftly left the room, leaving Lance alone with Shiro. “Did that seem weird to you? It seemed weird to me.”

Shiro shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “Go get cleaned up. And if you're feeling up to it, you can join me up here on the bridge.”

Lance made a noncommittal noise, nodding along as he carefully stepped around the puddles of sweat, leaving the room.

Lance wrapped his hair up in a towel, applying one of his face masks, and stepped out of his shower and back into his room. The lights flickered, and Lance grimaced. His shower had turned ice cold, and he'd had to give it up or leave himself to freeze.

A sigh had Lance pause, hand halfway to his pants. He looked at the bed, at the suspiciously large lump he had been too tired to notice earlier. The lump shifted, and Lance saw Keith roll over, blinking sleepily at Lance.

“Lance?” Keith blinked some more, before settling on a wary stare. “What are you doing in here?”

“This is my room,” Lance said, still frozen in place. “What are you doing in here?”

“I sneak in here a lot for sleep.” Keith rolled his eyes, closing his eyes again. “Since you're never in here anyway.” Keith sighed, pushing into a sitting position. “Since I'm up, I wanted to talk to you.”

“This is my room,” Lance repeated, faintly. “How am I never in here?”

Keith stared at Lance like he wanted to have the conversation go in an entirely different direction. Lance, in all honesty, wanted the conversation to not exist at all. Failing that – as it seemed he was doing – Lance really preferred that the conversation happened when he was fully clothed instead of wearing a face mask and a robe and nothing else.

“I'm not getting into that,” Keith slowly, steadily replied. “And if you want to really talk about that then you can go talk with Hunk or Shiro.”

Lance opened his mouth to retort, but paused. There were a number of responses he could have gone with, but he didn't. Keith looked far too open, was far too trusting of Lance. It was a level of trust and respect that Lance always wanted out of Keith, but not like this. This wasn't earned, it wasn't hard-won, it just existed, there for Lance without a bit of work for him to have gotten it. This wasn't his Keith, Lance realized. He should have made that connection earlier, but with the whole situation with King Lubos...

Both Keiths were the same person, they just had completely different relationships with Lance. This Keith was a lot more open, a lot more teasing, and Lance... Lance treated him the same way he treated his own Keith.

It wasn't right, to do that to someone the he was meant to lead. To belittle and berate them for the smallest of issues.

“I'm sorry,” Lance said, the words coming out before he could stop them. Keith paused in climbing out of the bed, one leg dangling in the air.

“You are?” Keith raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For being so... me.” Lance winced. “I mean, I've been reacting to you like I would my own Keith. And yeah, you're the same person, by crow you're the same person, but that's not – not what I mean.”

Lance cut himself off with a groan, pacing the room.

Why did he get so chatty when he was tired?

“I want,” Lance began again, “to have whatever kind of relationship you have with your Lance. I don't want to replace him, but I don't – I don't want what I do to affect how you treat him in the future.” He sighed, reaching up to rub the heel of his hand against his eye. Crow, why was this so hard? “I want you to– no. I don't want you to feel like you can't, like, trust me. As a leader. As your leader.”

Keith gave Lance the flattest stare he could muster. “Oh crud.”

“What?” Lance frowned.

“Please don't,” Keith pleaded.

“Don't what?” Lance growled, feeling the beginnings of frustration building up.

“This,” Keith hissed darkly, gesturing between the two of them. “It's bad enough I had to go through the whole communication bonding moment with you once, but now I have to live through it twice?”

“You think this whole thing is a picnic for me?” Lance scoffed. “I'm in a role of leadership with a level of respect and responsibility I didn't even earn. I'm doing the best I can, Keith, don't play that against me.” Lance groaned, snagging his pants and picking up the rest of his clothes from around the room. “Look, I'm going back into the bathroom to get dressed. Let's take that time to calm down and then start over. Does that sound alright with you?”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Keith agreed. Lance left the room, returning to the bathroom, and let the door shut behind him.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Lance slumped against the door. He really hadn't meant for any of that to come out, hadn't meant for any of it to even become more than passing thoughts.

At the very least, Lance could give this Keith a chance. A new start, of sorts.

Washing the face mask off his face, Lance got dressed in record time. He opened the door to see Keith sitting on the edge of his bed, the knife he always carried with him in hand. Keith turned the blade over and over, occasionally doing a fancy spin around his hand with the ease of someone that had learned that skill.

“So,” Lance began, walking over to hand up his robe. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded, holding his knife out. “Yeah I did.” Keith took a deep breath. “Lance, do you remember when Ulaz pulled out his sword? There was a–”

The alarm sounded, cutting Keith off. Lance shared a panicked look with Keith, the both of them running toward the bridge.

“Did someone find us?” Keith asked.

“How?” Lance returned. “We're in the middle of nowhere!”

“I don't know, maybe–” Keith cut off, looking away. “Maybe we're being tracked.”

“Again, how?” Lance stared at Keith, at how Keith wouldn't look at him. “Keith? Keith, what are you thinking?”

“It's not important,” Keith bit out. “A stupid idea, that's all.”

Lance was about to reply when they entered the bridge, nearly running into Hunk and Pidge. Lance grabbed onto Hunk for support with one hand, while he grabbed onto Keith with the other. Pulling himself and Keith to their feet, Lance looked up at the main screen, wondering what it was that triggered the alarm.

Zarkon's ship loomed above the ice field, fighters swarming down and firing at the Castle.

“What?” Lance looked at Allura and Shiro in alarm. “How did he find us again? How is that possible? That doesn't seem possible.”

“It doesn't matter right now,” Allura stated. “We need to get away from here.”

“Why are we running?” Keith asked. “Why don't we stay and fight. Now's our chance. We can form Voltron, stop Zarkon. Enough running!”

“It's too dangerous,” Allura countered.

“Besides, don't you remember how Zarkon himself beat up the Red Lion?” Lance reminded Keith, pulling him toward the red seat. “The Castle still needs repairs from the last time we took him on, and he's had all this time to rest up. It's like you're asking to fight him with one hand tied behind your back.” Lance turned to look at Keith. “We're putting more distance between us and him. When we do go after him, it's going to be on our terms, not his. Right now he wants us to go and fight. We're not giving him the satisfaction. Pidge!”

Pidge hopped in place, doing a haphazard salute. “Yeah, Boss?”

“Go back down, help Coran adjust the teludav. We need that working yester-quintant!” Lance turned toward Hunk. “You're back manning defenses, Hunk. Keep us informed about the state of the Castle.”

“I'll do my best.” Hunk nodded, jogging over to his seat. Lance grinned.

I can do this.

“Shiro, Keith, the three of us are back running offense. We're keeping the fighters from causing any worse damage. Basically we're doing the same thing we did about an hour – a varga, I think, I'm still getting the hang of the intergalactic time stuff – ago, but without Pidge there to tell us about the ones we didn't catch.” Lance looked between Shiro and Keith, stepping back toward the black seat. “We got this. We're quiznacking Voltron.”

Keith nodded, pulling up his drone. “We're quiznacking Voltron!”

At the helm, Allura cringed.

Lance gave Allura a playful smile and shrug of the shoulders, spinning on his heel to take his seat. Pulling up his own drone, Lance started taking potshots at the fighters left, right, and center. The Castle shuddered, under fire, and Lance pushed himself, shooting as many as he could.

“There's three on your six, Keith!” Lance barked out. “I got 'em!” The screen blurred, vanishing. Lance blinked. “Oh. Uh, I don't got 'em. My console stopped working.”

“Don't worry, we'll cover you,” Shiro smoothly assured Lance.

“Yeah, we've got your back,” Keith added, and Lance gave them both a grin. The Castle rumbled, and Lance watched everything on the main screen. “Or not. I'm out too. System error?”

“We're all down,” Shiro groaned. “Hunk? What's going on?”

“Systems are going dark all over,” Hunk replied. “It's too random to be from the Galra.”

“That's us!” Pidge appeared on the main screen, while Coran slid along in the background. “We're diverting power from non-essential systems to get the teludav working. Hunk, we could really use your help down here.”

“There's no time!” Allura cried, while Lance leaned forward, staring at Pidge in disbelief.

“Non-essential? Pidge, shooting the guys attacking us is pretty essential!” Lance looked at Allura. “We can't wormhole out of here if there's no Castle left to wormhole away in.”

“I know that!” Allura snapped. “But if we cannot create a wormhole, then the Castle is lost either way.”

Lance sank back into his seat, irritated. “Hunk, how are we looking?”

“Well, the thermal regulators are offline, so the rest of the Castle should be getting pretty cold. Oh no, there goes the particle barrier!” Hunk groaned. “And my console is out now.”

“Pidge! Coran!” Lance gripped his chair tightly as the Castle began to shake. “We need to wormhole out of here now!”

“I'm on it!” Allura cried, and the Castle shuddered and rumbled. Ahead of them, a wormhole appeared, this one sparking with electricity. They flew into it, and Lance was barely able to see inside before they were out.

The lights flickered again, and Lance felt a chill draft. Onscreen, he spotted a huge space storm directly in their path. Otherwise...

“Do we have the Castle scanners up?” Lance asked. “Pidge?”

“Scanners aren't picking anything up.” Pidge frowned. “Also, I'm looking at an alert that the sca– scau–”

“Scaultrite,” Coran gently added, sliding along behind Pidge. He looked at the screen Pidge was reading and his eyes went wide. “Oh no. Several of the scaultrite lenses have shattered completely.”

“What does that mean?” Lance asked, looking from the screen to Allura.

“It means no more wormholes,” Allura answered, looking grim.

“Not until we can manage to locate the nearest swap moon,” Coran added. “You can't trust the space pirates for little, but they're very good at obtaining scaultrite lenses.”

“I swear I've seen this word before,” Pidge muttered, still squinting at the screen. “ Ugh, I'm too tired to brain.”

“Think, Pidge, you're too tired to think,” Lance corrected, even if he wasn't much better off. He slumped back in his seat. “Are we safe yet?”

“I'm not sure,” Allura replied. “I don't know how Zarkon managed to track us.”

“Well, I'm going to ask the obvious question,” Lance grumbled. “Did we get hit with a tracking device?”

“No.” Allura sounded so sure of herself Lance didn't feel the need to question her. “The Castle would recognize and alert us of any outgoing transmissions anywhere in or on it.”

“Is he tracking the wormhole energy?” Lance glanced over at Hunk, who was looking from Keith to Allura. “Or, like, the lions? Kind of like how we tracked down Blue with the fraunhoffer line she was emitting?”

“The teludav is based around Altean magic,” Allura explained. “Only an Altean can operate it, and it's completely untraceable. Not even the Olkari could create technology to track the energies of a teludav jump.”

“And the lions?” Lance glanced at Shiro. “Zarkon was the last Black Paladin. Couldn't he be–” Lance shuddered, loathe as he was to say it. “Could he be using whatever bond he formed with the Black Lion to track us down?”

“Absolutely not,” Allura declared. “Even the most bonded of Paladins to their Lion could not sense one another from such a great distance. It's impossible.”

“Then how does he keep finding us?” Lance stood from the chair, turning to face Allura. “Because it has to be something!”

“Hey, guys?” Pidge spoke up, bringing everyone's attention to the screen. “Why don't we try hiding out in that storm over there. It's metallic, so it will block any outgoing signals.”

“Pidge that's brilliant!” Allura reached out, and the Castle started moving. Lance shivered. "The storm will make us undetectable on all known means of tracking and scanning.”

“While you're at it, how about setting back up some of those non-essential systems,” Lance offered. “I think you shut off the heating.”

“You got it, Boss. Can't live without heating.” Pidge saluted, and Lance still found it far too cheeky for his tastes. Pidge was mocking him, he was certain.

The video cut out, and Lance turned back to Allura.

“Are you sure there's nothing Zarkon could be using to track us down?” Lance asked her. “Anything at all?”

“The Castle picks up all outgoing signals on all frequencies, Lance,” Allura calmly explained. “However he is tracking us, it is not a means that the Castle can track.” She hesitated, glancing away. “I– I fear it is me.”

Lance blinked. “What? Why would you even think that?”

“It's how he found us on Arus!” Allura cried. “And again on the Balmera. And in the xanthorium crystal belt. It's been me all along.”

“That can't be true,” Lance retorted. “The Galra knew we were coming with the Balmera.”

“That's right!” Hunk added. “They had that whole trap set up for us. They totally knew we were going there.”

“And that secret moon base,” Lance added. “There wasn't a trap there either, and the Galra didn't even know we were there until our cover was blown.”

“Perhaps.” Allura still didn't look convinced. Lance opened his mouth to argue more when the alarm went off. Lance turned, hoping against hope that it wasn't Zarkon's ship, was just the alarm turning on and realizing the Castle was parked in the eye of a metallic space storm.

High above the storm, Zarkon's ship loomed.

“Again?” Lance groaned. “Seriously?”

“Now do we fight?” Keith asked.

“Well, we can't exactly run, now can we,” Lance grumbled, turning toward the stage. “Call Pidge. Tell them to suit up and get in Green.”

“We're forming Voltron?” Hunk asked, looking from Keith to Lance. “In the middle of the metal storm?”

“We should lead the fighters into the storm.” Lance paused, turning to look at Shiro in shock.

“What?” Lance shook his head. “Are you nuts? We'd be leaving the Castle defenseless.”

“We can use the storm to destroy most of the fighters,” Shiro reasoned. “We won't have to do much fighting.”

“The storm could destroy us,” Hunk countered. “It's a raging metallic bundle of destruction. Why would we want to do that?”

Lance looked up at the screen, at the fighters approaching from Zarkon's ship. “Does it look like Zarkon's preparing to fire at the Castle?”

“What?” Hunk looked from Lance and to Allura, who shook her head, bemused.

“Zarkon's ship is sending out the fighters,” Allura replied. “I'm not picking up any readings that he's charging any ion cannons or readying to fire upon us.”

“Zarkon's ship can't fit down here,” Lance said. He pointed at the screen. “Not without risking major damage himself. So he's sending those fighters to smoke us out. We know he wants the Castle and Voltron, so he won't fire to destroy them.”

“It's a big leap,” Shiro offered.

“It's a safe assumption,” Lance countered. “I don't like it, but your idea has merit. We can use it to draw attention away from the Castle. If the fighters are all going after Voltron, then they're not going after the Castle. Coran can handle fixing the teludav and setting back up the Castle lasers if they're down, right?”

Lance looked at Allura for confirmation.

“Of course.” She nodded. “Go and buy us the necessary time.”

Lance found forming Voltron, feeling the sense of a hurricane in the back of his mind, while in the middle of essentially a space hurricane, to be something bordering a surreal experience.

As expected, the fighters all focused in on Voltron, ignoring the Castle completely, but that was where the elation ended. The storm was as relentless on Voltron as it was on the fighters, only that Voltron was considerably tougher and didn't explode when getting hit.

“Guys, we can't take much more of this!” Hunk called out, and Lance grit his teeth.

“I know!” Lance had an idea. A stupid, awful, idea, but they were running out of options. “Hunk, Shiro, give me full thrust. Let's pull out of the storm and lead Zarkon's ship on a wild goose chase.”

“What?” Hunk nearly shrieked. “Why?”

“Because the Castle can't go anywhere with Zarkon blocking the only way out,” Keith replied, breathless. “Lance, that's a great plan!”

“And we'll keep our distance,” Lance added. “We've gotten lucky that Zarkon hasn't tried to take control of the Black Lion so far. Let's not get too close and have that happen again.”

Moreover, Lance didn't want to experience what it felt like to have Zarkon take over everything while he was in the Black Lion. He didn't want to know what it would feel like in his mind, what Zarkon would feel like against the hurricane force of Voltron, against the gale winds of the Black Lion.

The burst out of the storm a fair distance away from Zarkon's ship. Pidge and Keith fired lasers to get Zarkon's attention, and they reversed course once his ship began to move. Lance could only hope it was enough.

It wasn't.

Zarkon slammed into his mind, the stillness of death and the stagnancy of control. The hurricane stilled in its tracks, held in place by Zarkon's will alone. Lance felt the gale winds of Black go silent, felt Voltron lock in place.

He screamed, pushing back against Zarkon, pushing for Black, for the hurricane, for Voltron, to move. He pushed his all into it, pushed and pushed and–

Zarkon let up, if a little bit. Lance stared at the blue colors of the cockpit, at the blue colors on his armor. He was back in Blue.

“What?” Lance glanced up felt Zarkon push against him, and pushed back. He blinked, and he was back in Black, back in the wrong universe. He felt himself connect, but with what he didn't know, and he felt... more. Like he was the hurricane itself, like he was the winds and the sky.

Voltron broke free, turning to see the Castle firing upon Zarkon's ship. Lance shuddered, shaky but elated.

“Guys, let's head back to the Castle,” Lance wheezed. “Are we good to wormhole out?”

“We most certainly are not!” Coran popped up on the screen. “Several of the lenses in the teludav are shattered. Broken. Sloven-day-ho! That's gone in Altean.”

“I know what it means – wait, I know what it means!” Lance could hear Pidge's smile. “Coran, I remember where I saw the word scaultrite before! Hunk!”

“What? Me?” Hunk asked, surprised.

“Your cookies! That container I was looking at, it was scaultrite! Ground scaultrite!” Pidge sounded delighted, and Lance grinned.

“Hunk, you genius!” Lance praised. “This is the polymer brownies all over again!”

“The polymer what?” Keith asked.

“No time to explain,” Pidge interrupted. “Let's get back to the Castle. I have an idea!”

“Okay, when you said you had an idea, this isn't what I was thinking.”

Lance currently hung upside down in the teludav beam generator, two of Hunk's scaultrite cookies in his hands. The others were scattered around the inside of the generator, holding their own scaultrite cookies at angles only Coran calculated.

“I'm so happy my baking found some use.” Hunk's smile came across everyone, and Lance couldn't help his own grin.

“You're a real engineering genius, buddy.”

“Now don't move if you want to live,” Coran commanded from the entrance to the chamber. Lance flinched, and stared over his shoulder, wide-eyed.

“I think I moved! I think I moved!”

“Then move back to where you were before!” Coran snapped.

“This won't, like, kill us, right, Coran?” Hunk asked, and everyone peered closely at Coran, just as curious for the answer as Hunk was.

Coran stood before the entrance, back to them. “I'll be honest. This is the most dangerous thing I've ever seen or heard of, but since we're probably going to die anyway, let's give it a try!”

The chamber door closed. Lance faced forward, gulping. “Guys I wanted to say something.”

“Oh, please no,” Keith muttered.

“Shush!” Hunk shot at Keith. “Go on, Lance.”

“Keep in mind that we might actually survive,” Pidge pointed out.

“I wanted to say,” Lance began, “that you're the best team I could ever hope for. I know this isn't my universe, but you're like the family I know my team can be. You guys are so awesome.” He took a steadying breath. “Also I think I reverse traveled back to my own body for a moment there when we pushed against Zarkon.”

The generator hummed, lighting up. Lance squeezed his eyes shut. He screamed, the beam shooting out.

It hit the cookie in his right hand, and stopped. The generator powered down.

“What just happened?” Lance looked over at Shiro, who shrugged as best he could without moving his arms.

“You went back to your universe?” Shiro asked. “How?”

“I don't know.” Lance grinned, feeling a little hysterical. He wasn't sure if it was all the blood rushing to his head or if it was the pure exhaustion.

The door to the chamber open briefly, and Coran slid inside. “Nobody move! I need to lubricate you!”

“You what.” Lance stared at Coran, unable to look away as he did a hip shake, running his arms up along his body and gathering all his sweat on his head and hands. The chamber door shut, and Coran dashed into motion, coating the cookies in Lance's hand in sweat before going and doing the same to Shiro's. “Oh. That is not at all what I was afraid it was going to be.”

“No time to explain!” Coran shouted as the generator began to hum. “Hold still!”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut as the beam activated. Somewhere behind him, Coran was screaming. He held still, eyes held tightly shut, and felt the heat of the teludav beam in the room. Lance wished, just a little bit, that they had had to chance to put on their masks.

Soon enough, the beam powered down, the hum fading away into nothing. The room smelled heavily of ozone, and Lance coughed.

“Okay,” he rasped. “Who's not dead?”

Everyone sounded off, even Coran, and Lance let out a dry sigh of relief that turned into a harsh cough.

The door to the chamber opened, and Lance spied Allura peering inside, a huge smile on her face.

“We did it!” She cried. “The teludav jump was a success.”

“Awesome,” Lance said, before he fell from the ceiling. He started pulling himself up on shaky arms. “Can we go to sleep without getting attacked now?”

“The damage done to Zarkon's ship will take him at least three quintants to fix,” Allura stated matter-of-factly. “We're free to rest up and then continue repairs on the Castle, as well as resume your paladin training.”

“I feel so honored,” Lance dryly replied. He reached out, latching onto Shiro and using him as a base to steady himself into standing. “Really. So blessed.”

“Don't use sarcasm against the Princess,” Pidge groaned, climbing out of the chamber. “She'll only learn it and you'll only make her stronger.”

Keith reached over and clapped a hand on Lance's shoulder. “Thank you. So much.”

“For what?” Lance blinked at Keith, but only got a shake of the head in return.

“I'm not saying,” Keith replied. “But thank you.” He nodded, satisfied. “I'm going to get some sleep now. Uninterrupted sleep.”

“The best kind,” Hunk agreed, reaching out and plucking Pidge up from where they had fallen.

“The only kind,” Shiro added, wrapping his hand in Lance's. Lance glanced down at in in surprise, then up at Shiro. Lance gulped, feeling his face brighten in a deep blush. He nodded in agreement, not trusting his voice.

“Ah!” Coran spoke up from behind them. “Well, it seems that a teludav is also good in curing one of the Slipperies. I feel better than ever!”

Lance chanced a peek at Coran, who was bone dry but somehow, no less sparkly than before. He chuckled.

“C'mon, Shiro,” Lance said, turning away from where Coran was striking various poses. “Let's go get some sleep.”

Chapter Text

Sleep in a lonely bed didn't come easily to Lance. Everything was too much or too little – too much space, too little heat, too much quiet, too little comfort. Nothing felt right.

Tossing and turning in bed, Lance sighed and decided to give it up. He'd thought that the exhaustion would be enough to let him fall asleep just fine, but habits were hard to break. Lance had hoped that Shiro would allow him to spend another night in his bed, but no such luck. Shiro had seen them all off to bed, and Lance had lingered outside his bedroom door with a questioning look on his face. Shiro, in turn, had raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Sitting up, Lance pulled off his sleep mask, blinking in the dull darkness. His movement activated the lights, gently shifting the bedroom into a soft brightness. Slipping out of bed, he pulled on the blue robe, noting with discomfort just how much it fit him, how snug it was against his body. He stared at the blue lion slippers at the foot of the bed, stared at how they seemed the perfect size for him.

He put them on, keeping his feet from the chill of the Castle floor, and stepped out of the room. The rest of the Castle was much brighter, the hall lights fully on, and Lance blinked for a moment, his eyes adjusting. Sighing, Lance went on the move. He walked past Hunk and Pidge's rooms, toward his– toward Shiro's room. Stopping outside the door, Lance wondered what he would even say, wondered what was on the other side of that door. It had been a double exhausting day and a half, so it was likely that Shiro had collapsed into bed, not even taking off his armor, just as likely as it was that Shiro wasn't asleep yet, was running through a workout routine.

Lance stepped away from the door, the blue lion slippers padding along, the robe snugly fitting his shoulders. This wasn't his universe, and beyond that door wasn't his Shiro. Even if he did knock, all it would end up doing would leave Shiro gently talking Lance away from spending another night in Shiro's bed. If it was any other day, any other time, Lance would knock. But for the chance of waking Shiro from what little sleep he got, Lance couldn't.

Wandering the Castle, Lance wound up on the bridge. He spotted Allura and Coran in the midst of a discussion, and waved when Coran spotted him.

“And what are you doing awake?” Coran asked, looking highly and unfairly refreshed. “Shouldn't you be resting with the other Paladins?”

“Couldn't sleep,” Lance replied, before yawning. He stared at Allura. “What about you? It's been an even more exhausting day for you than the rest of us. Why aren't you in bed?”

“What?” Allura balked, shaking her head. “Lance, the Castle needs repairs. If we are to continue to evade Zarkon–”

A-buh-buh-buh!” Lance interrupted, waving his hand in front of her. “Nope! No. This is a topic for the morning. Which comes after sleep. Or rest, or whatever Alteans have.”

“Excuse me?” Allura glared. “I am–”

“Not in bed,” Lance finished. “Which I know for a fact that you have one. I don't know about Coran, because up until he caught the Slipperies I had a working theory that Coran was some kind of android–”

“I am not an android,” Coran politely chimed in. “Whatever an android is.”

Lance shook his head, quietly promising to explain later. “But you, Princess, have a bed. And you've been really busy pushing a lot of that Altean energy stuff into making the wormholes. You're exhausted, so let's go. Off to bed with you.”

“I will not,” Allura protested, even as Coran gently took hold of her shoulders and began to guide her out of the room. “The Castle–”

“Is fine,” Coran finished, and Lance fell in step in front of Allura, walking backwards as he took her hands in his, pulling her along as they walked toward her room. “Lance is quite right. You've had a difficult day yourself, and you need your rest.”

“See?” Lance beamed. “Coran agrees with me. And besides, we're not dead yet, and the alarms aren't going off that the life support is damaged or failing, and I haven't gotten the impression that the Castle is trying to kill us again, so the repairs can wait.”

“Very well,” Allura conceded, before looking at Lance, sizing him up. “I must say, you're actually quite personable when you aren't attempting to flirt with me.”

“Well,” Lance replied, stumbling as they rounded a corner, “my heart does belong to another. I did tell you.”

“You did.” Allura nodded, while Coran perked up.

“Oho?” Coran grinned. “Have you found a bit of young love in your universe?”

“Wait.” Lance looked from Coran to Allura, giving her a soft glare. “That's just unfair. I'm calling party foul. Space party foul.”

“I don't know what that Earth expression means,” Allura replied, looking for all the world like she did know but was barging along anyway. Lance's face fell, unable to tell if she was lying or not. “But I would like to know who it is that has, apparently, captured your heart.”

“I would like to know too,” Coran added, looking far too excited for Lance's liking. Both Alteans leaned forward, the same sly grin on their faces as they sighed and said, as one, “Young love.”

“Okay, first of a– whoa!” Lance leaned back, tripping over his heels as he overbalanced. He landed on his back with a small oof, and laid there. “Ow,” he said dispassionately. “This is unfair.”

“Perhaps,” Allura conceded, reaching out to help Lance back to his feet. “But you cannot fault us our curiosity.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Doesn't mean I have to like it,” he groused without venom, and squinted at both Allura and Coran. “Is this a multiverse constant? Like, you're just as interested in my love life here as you are back in my universe.”

“Alteans are romantics,” Coran explained, patting Lance on the shoulder. “Romance is a beloved part of our culture, you see.”

Lance stared at Coran suspiciously. “If this ties into the whole diplomacy thing or–” Lance cut himself off with a shiver. “Please don't tell me this involves the shapeshifting.”

Allura made a disgusted face, while Coran squinted at Lance, just as suspiciously.

“It very much does not,” Allura primly stated. She shot Coran a very pointed glare when he didn't back her up. “It doesn't.”

“Okay, I don't want to get in on whatever's going on here,” Lance said at length, gesturing between the two of them. “And I really don't want to know what Coran knows.”

“Romance is a beloved part of our culture,” Coran repeated, insistent. “And as such, two or more individuals courting each other are– er, was considered a social affair.”

Lance felt a twinge of regret at Coran's change in wording. “Fine,” he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I'll tell you.”

Allura perked up, stars in her and Coran's eyes. “Wonderful! I've been wondering who it might be.”

“But!” Lance held up a finger, looking Allura straight in the eye. “I'll only tell you after you get some rest.”

Allura stared at Lance, taken aback. Behind her, Coran chuckled.

“Oh very well,” Allura huffed. “But you are telling me all the details about this romance later on.”

“I will,” Lance promised, walking Allura back to her room.

“I am curious about another thing,” Allura began, stopping outside her door. “Unlike our Lance, you can be quite serious. Tell me, what change in your behavior prompted it?”

Lance frowned. “Allura, I... well, okay, I'm technically not your Lance, but I am still the same person I always was. The same person your Lance always was.” He shrugged, uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. “I'm just... a bit more confident, I guess? Leadership does that to a person.”

“Well, that can't be it.” Allura frowned. “You're already too confident by far. You – our Lance, I mean – won't stop flirting with anyone who crossed his path. And you never take anything seriously.”

“I still flirt,” Lance protested. “And I still makes jokes. If everything is all serious all the time, then how is anyone going to feel enthusiastic about saving the universe?”

“Being a Paladin of Voltron is your duty,” Allura said, looking at Lance quizzically. “Why wouldn't you feel enthusiasm for that alone?”

“Oh crow,” Lance breathed, pressing his palms together in front of his face. He took a deep breath. “Okay, we're not getting into a debate about morale right now. It's just – a human thing, morale. Making others feel good, so they can feel good about the cause they're fighting for.”

Allura and Coran stared.

“Are you saying,” Allura began slowly, lowly, “that humans do not perform their duties because it is so?”

Lance shrugged. “Well, some do. But mostly we do what we want because we want to do it. And we want to do it because... because we like it. Crow, am I explaining it right? This is something better suited for Hunk or Shiro to talk about, I swear.” Lance sighed. “Look, humans are– we're very... enthusiastic. But we also, a lot of us, like to question stuff. Humans like to know why something works the way it does or why they should be concerned about something. You've heard Pidge and Hunk talk about learning more about the Castle's systems and all this technology we've come across. That's about humans in a nutshell.” Lance grimaced, waving his hands. “Ask Pidge about that one, not me. But later! Rest time is now.”

Allura huffed, put out, but nodded, entering her room with a pointed look at Lance. “This conversation isn't over.”

“Wasn't betting on it,” Lance replied. “I might be hoping for it, but I'm not betting that this is the last we're talking about it.”

Allura nodded, satisfied, and her door closed. Lance turned toward Coran, letting out another yawn so wide his jaw cracked.

“So,” he said, rubbing at the edge of his jaw. “Any questions you have?”

“None that couldn't wait,” Coran replied. “You seem in need of some rest yourself.”

“I suppose,” Lance conceded, yawning again. “Alright, yes, I do. But it's hard when I'm used to someone else being in bed with me.”

“You mean Shiro,” Coran said. Lance looked at him in surprise, and Coran chuckled. “I may not be as spry as a yaxnor, but I do know the signs of a budding romance in another.”

Lance grinned, soft and small. “Yeah. I suppose love is universal.” He paused, stopping in his tracks. “I mean– n-not that I, like, love Shiro. Just that the whole love and romance thing is, like, a big universal thing.”

“A constant,” Coran gently corrected. “And I suppose it is.” He reached out, placing a comforting hand on Lance's back. Lance began to walk again, Coran at his side. “Sharing a bed is a very intimate gesture. I wasn't aware that humans courted so quickly.”

“It didn't start out like that,” Lance explained. “Shiro just... he needs help getting to sleep, and staying asleep. So I just sorta... joined him in bed, because I know that sleeping with other people can lead to a better night's sleep, and we've just been doing that, every night, ever since.”

Coran hummed. “And from there came the romance?”

“A lot of it, yeah,” Lance admitted, still grinning. It felt good, knowing that Coran was still the same in any universe. “We haven't actually said anything about it, but we started holding hands a while back, and we've been getting a lot closer.”

Lance looked away, his smile fading as he remembered where he was. As he remembered how distant he was to this Shiro.

“Well, don't worry,” Coran offered, giving Lance a fond smile. “We'll get the Castle running in top shape soon enough, and then we can work on returning you back home.”

Lance smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Lance.” Coran looked over, feigning surprise. “Oh my. It seems we've wandered right outside your own bedroom. Perhaps now you can find some rest?”

“You have no subtlety,” Lance teased, wagging a finger at Coran.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Coran replied, nonchalant. “Now off you go. Good Paladins need their rest, you know.”

Lance laughed. “And what about you? Don't you need some rest yourself?”

“Not just yet,” Coran answered. “The teludav cleared my Slipperies and rejuvinated me. I feel like my youthful self again.”

Lance grinned. “If you say so.” He opened the door. “Again, thank you.”

“Getting some much-needed rest is thanks enough, Lance,” Coran said, giving Lance a fond smile. “Now go. Shoo. I will be very disappointed if it turns out that you were out wandering the Castle after this.”

“I wouldn't want to disappoint you,” Lance admitted with a smile. “Good night, Coran.”

“Good night, Lance.”

The next morning, Lance was pleased to see that everyone looked much better. Allura kept eying him, clearly remembering the conversation several hours before, but she was more concerned with Coran as he ladled out huge bowls of food goo.

“I've had the chance to restart all of the Castle's systems,” Coran explained, setting the tureen of food goo aside and gesturing for everyone to start eating. Pidge squinted at their laptop, ignoring the bowl in front of them. “The good news is that all the systems appear to be in working order. Despite the beating the Castle took yester-quintant, the damage is much less than I feared. It will take a couple vargas to manually fix a couple systems, however. I also had the fortune to further study the cookies Hunk made. Unfortunately, Hunk, while those cookies of yours do contain scaultrite, the amount is not concentrated enough to act as suitable replacements for the shattered lenses. That one jump is all we could get out of them.”

“Don't say we're harvesting scaultrite, don't say we're harvesting scaultrite,” Hunk muttered into his food goo. Lance raised an eyebrow,

“Fortunately, I've managed to locate an unilu swap moon nearby!” Coran chirped. “They should have the scaultrite lenses we need.”

“Oh, thank you,” Hunk breathed, and Lance grinned around his spoonful of goo. Louder, Hunk said, “So we can't use my cookies to make another wormhole?”

“Nope!” Coran crossed his arms into an X. “We're going to have to travel there normally. It should take us around two quintants to get there.”

“That's assuming we don't come across any Galra patrols,” Allura added. “Or if we don't find a distress beacon within flying distance.”

“I've been thinking about that,” Pidge said, looking up from their laptop. “And I think I've got an idea.”

“Eat,” Lance insisted, gesturing at the forgotten bowl of goo in front of them. “Talk between bites.”

Pidge locked eyes with Lance, taking a heaping spoonful and making a point of chewing it before swallowing. “As I was saying, I've been going through Sendak's memories and what we managed to get from the moon base, and I think I've managed to code a way to track the Galra's movements.”

“How?” Shiro asked, looking at Pidge intently.

“So I got a lot of info from Sendak and the moon about supply lines, but mostly about where all the other Galra commanders are stationed.” Pidge took another bite. “And then I got the idea to cross it with that map with the one for all the distress beacons.” Pidge grinned. “Add a little bit of the universe scanner, and we can track were there's a lot of Galra and where there isn't.”

“So we could use it to avoid the Galra while knowing where to strike that would hurt the most?” Keith shared a look with Shiro.

“But aren't we still on Zarkon's radar?” Lance asked, looking at Allura in concern. “Should we really be making those kinds of plans when he could pop up at any minute?”

“Zarkon will not be a concern for several quintants,” Allura declared, grinning. “The Castle's weapons were used to deal quite a damaging blow to his ship, and if he still wants to use it to go after us, he will need to spend time to fix the damage. We're safe from harm for now.” Her grin faltered. “However, I still fear that it is me that he is using to track us.”

Lance frowned. “Whoa, hey, I thought we talked about this. I get that you're a great beauty and all, but it can't be you that Zarkon's using to track us.”

“It's me.” Everyone turned to look at Keith, and Lance's frown grew deeper.

“What?” Lance looked at Keith intently. “What are you talking about.”

Keith shifted, avoiding meeting Lance's – or anyone's, really – eyes. “I just– I got up close and personal with Zarkon. Maybe he imprinted on me or something.”

“That's a steamy pile of bulls–”

Lance clapped a hand over Pidge's mouth, glaring at them.

“Language,” Lance growled. “What part of 'we're not teaching the Alteans about Earth swears' don't you understand? Minus three Voltron points.”

Pidge reached up, pulling Lance's hand away from their face. “First, don't you ever put your hand on my face again. Second, don't you ever put your hand on my face again.” Pidge straightened up. “Third–”

Pidge got cut up when their computer pinged. They turned toward it, blinking in surprise.

“What?” Lance asked, peering over their shoulder. Pidge shoved him away.

“I picked up a new distress signal.” Pidge looked up at Shiro. “It's from a planet called... Taujeer?”

Coran bustled over to look at Pidge's findings, and nodded. “Indeed. It seems someone on Taujeer needs our help.”

“Do we answer?” Keith asked, looking around.

“I made it so we could avoid the Galra,” Pidge replied. “At least, until Zarkon stops chasing us. Then we use it to attack where Zarkon will feel it the most.”

Allura sighed. “In an ideal scenario, we would leave the beacon be and return to it after visiting the swap moon.”

“Wait, so we're just going to leave them?” Hunk cried, looking at everyone. “We're going to let someone's home get attacked, possibly destroyed?”

“No.” Lance shook his head. “We're helping. We can take a detour, right?”

Shiro stared at Lance. “We could. I'm not sure if we can afford it.”

“We're Voltron,” Lance pressed. “We can take the lions and help out.”

“Zarkon could use that to locate us,” Pidge offered. “He's probably got an ear on all Galra encounters with Voltron.”

“Zarkon probably knows our exact location right now,” Lance countered. “He could still be using his connection to the Black Lion.”

“Lance is right,” Shiro sighed, not looking happy – but whether it was about agreeing with Lance, or about the situation, Lance couldn't tell. He hoped it was the latter and not the former. “We can't stop helping just because Zarkon can track us.”

“If anything,” Lance added, “we could use it to our advantage. We could free planets and then lead Zarkon as far from them as we can when he appears.”

“But we cannot use the teludav,” Coran gently reminded them.

“That is enough.” Allura looked around the table. “We will divert to Taujeer. It's worth the risk, and we cannot allow Zarkon to believe that Voltron is fleeing.”

Lance nodded, grinning. “Those Galra attacking Taujeer won't know what hit them.”

“Very well.” Allura nodded, standing. “I will set a course for Taujeer.”

“Given our current speed, we should arrive in a quintant.” Coran looked at Pidge's computer again. “I must say, the versatility of this Earth technology is quite fascinating. You must let me look at it further.”

“No!” Pidge pulled their laptop close, the bowl of goo dropping into their lap. They glanced from the computer to Coran. “I mean, maybe later?”

“A later time, then.” Coran patted Pidge on the back, then straightened. “Is everyone done with their morning nourishment? Yes? Excellent! Let's meet in the training room in twenty doboshes for team exercises. You're long overdue for another match against the training bot.”

Lance looked around the table, grinning. “I'm game. I'm curious how you guys fight in a group.”

“Okay so first of all,” Lance commented, looking up at the ceiling. “Ow.”

Training had begun with little more than a disaster. Lance had rushed the gladiator and knocked into Shiro, who barked for him to stay back and remember that he had a bayard. Lance had skidded to a stop, narrowly dodging the gladiator's first strike, and had bounced backwards. Pidge kept a fair distance at first, while Hunk's trigger finger was a bit too sensitive.

The gladiator level was, as Coran said, level four – it wielded a baton instead of the staff, and used it to combat Shiro's arm effectively. Hunk had a stray shot hit Shiro, giving the gladiator the opening to sent Shiro flying into Hunk. While Keith rushed the gladiator, holding his own until Pidge sent out their grapple, looking to immobilize the baton. Instead, Pidge was yanked, sent flying into Lance, who was still sighting with the rifle.

Keith was the only one left fighting the gladiator, and Lance let the bayard dematerialize as he helped Pidge back onto their feet.

“Hey,” Lane murmured, a sly grin on his face. “I got a plan, but I need your help.”

The gladiator spun the baton, catching Keith's blade and knocking it away in one swing, spinning the baton so it caught Keith across the chest on the reverse swing. Keith went flying, and Lance rushed the gladiator.

“Lance, wait!” Shiro called out, but Lance was too close. He skidded under the first swing, throwing out a punch to the gladiator's knee to knock it off balance. The gladiator stumbled, kicking out – and sending Lance flying once more. He grinned the whole time, having done his part.

Pidge sent out their grapple, catching the gladiator in the leg Lance had punched out. They yanked, and the gladiator fell.

“Hunk!” Pidge yelled. “Open fire!”

“Huh? Oh, right!” Hunk hefted his blaster, shooting at the gladiator. Lance skidded along the ground, but he had a grin on his face. He watched as the gladiator vanished, the floor opening up.

“Whooo!” Lance pushed to his knees. “That was–”

“Lance!” Shiro was stomping over toward Lance, his face cloudy. “What were you thinking? I told you to hang back!”

Lance faltered, taking a step back. “Shiro, we won, why aren't you–”

“You disobeyed orders, Lance,” Shiro interrupted, still approaching. Lance stepped back for every step closer Shiro took. “Out in the field, that could get you–”

Shiro cut off, his anger deflating. Lance stopped, staring at Shiro in shock.

“Whoa, hey.” Lance stood his ground. “I'm still getting the hang of things here. And besides, it's not like I didn't take a calculated risk there. If there's anything I've learned from Keith, its that sometimes you have to take the risk.” He shrugged. “Besides, it was just the gladiator bot. Not like I'm going to do that if we ever end up fighting someone outside our lions.” He locked eyes with Shiro. “I'm fine.”

“Don't do that out in the field,” Shiro declared, still not happy. “And you need to remember your bayard.”

“I get that,” Lance calmly replied. “But I'm used to fighting without one. It's not like I can remember there's a bayard for me to use every time, or that I should ever get used to it.”

“You should get used to it,” Shiro said, displeased. “I know you're from a different universe, but you can't let that hold you back.”

“Hold me back?” Lance repeated. “Shiro, I'm not letting anything hold me back.”

“I just mean that you're not used to using a bayard, and that you should,” Shiro said, as if that explained anything to Lance. “You can't keep doing these reckless stunts.”

“Reckless stunts,” Lance echoed back in disbelief. “Really? Reckless stunts? What reckless stunts are you talking about?”

“Rushing the gladiator,” Shiro said, frustration leaking into his voice. “Lance, that was dangerous, don't you understand that? You could have gotten hurt.”

“I knew what I was doing!” Lance protested, trying to figure out how they had gotten to that point.

“That's not what I saw,” Shiro countered. “You rushed the gladiator. You allowed yourself to get hurt to give Pidge and Hunk an opening. That was reckless. There were a dozen other ways you could have gotten that opening without the risk of injury.”

“Whoa, we were all getting knocked around by the gladiator,” Hunk said, stepping to Lance's defense. “Why are you singling out Lance here?”

Lance groaned, stepping away from Shiro. He turned in a circle, counting backwards from ten, then reciting the alphabet backwards. He wasn't going to have it out with Shiro, not over this.

“Look,” Lance began, “I get that you're worried about my safety, but you really shouldn't be. I know what I'm doing. Can't you at least trust that?”

Shiro opened his mouth to respond when Coran called out over the intercom.

“Well, that was a decent start to your training,” Coran said, bringing everyone's attention away from Shiro and Lance. “Perhaps another go at the training bot?”

Shiro glanced at Lance, who stared back challengingly. “Let's do that.” He turned toward Lance. “Remember you have a bayard this time. And don't do anything reckless.”

“No promises.” Lance saluted. The bayard materialized, and Lance stepped back. The rifle appeared, and Lance crouched, looking along the sightline. He watched Shiro rush the gladiator, arm glowing a deep purple, and winced. He knew, deep down, that Shiro used his own arm, but...

Lance knew that Shiro didn't like using his arm, back in his own universe. He knew how Shiro felt about it, knew how it could be used as a weapon far too well. But to see it happen again, Lance...

He looked away. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn't watch.

This universe wasn't kind to Shiro like his was.

“Lance, pay attention!” Hunk hissed, and Lance winced, turning his attention back on the fight.

“Right.” Lance nodded, and pushed through to focus on the gladiator, looking for a clean shot.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance fell into step beside Keith, keeping half an eye on Shiro behind them. Shiro was looking at them, but Lance offered a smile and a mocking salute to show no ill will. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Keith looked at Lance, before turning to face forward. “Ask away.”

“Why do you really think it's you?” Lance lowered his voice, careful not to let it carry too far. Ahead of them, Pidge and Hunk were being met with Coran, the three of them chattering about a turbine that needed manual fixing. “That Zarkon's using to track us?”

Keith stiffened, glancing at Lance with wide eyes before stiffly facing forward. “That's – I told you. He could have imprinted on me or something.”

“Or something,” Lance agreed. “That sounds like a vague excuse to not talk about the real reason.”

“For fu–” Keith got a hand slapped over his mouth.

“Language!” Lance hissed, loud enough for it to carry. Pidge glanced back at them, smirking at Keith vindictively before turning back into their conversation. “I'm just concerned, Keith. I have a right to be.”

Keith stared at Lance, and Shiro walked up.

“Is something the matter?” Shiro asked, looking between the two of them with concern. Lance pulled his hand away, shaking his head.

“Nah,” Lance answered. “Just keeping Keith from swearing.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Of course you were.”

Lance turned toward Keith, shaking his head. “So that sword stuff you did back there, really awesome. You wield that sword really good.”

Shiro snorted, while Keith looked lost. Shiro turned away, walking toward the bridge, while Pidge and Hunk walked away with Coran. Lance watched them all go, before letting out a deep sigh.

“What was that?” Keith stared from the hallway Shiro had gone down to Lance. “You're an awful liar.”

“I don't need to lie,” Lance replied. “I just need to get your attention away from what I don't want you paying attention to. It's simple.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “I didn't think you were a magic kid.”

“I'm not,” Lance replied, starting to walk toward their rooms. “Look, you don't have to tell me, but I wanted to remind you that whatever's bothering you, you can come to me about it.” Lance threw Keith a grin. “Family, remember?”

Keith nodded, jerkily. “Yeah. Family.”

Lance stepped into the bedroom to see Allura sitting on the edge of the bed. The mice were in front of her, squeaking to her, and all of them straightened up. She looked at Lance intently. “Lance.”

He sighed. “This is about my love life, isn't it?”

“I did say I wanted an answer,” Allura replied, although it lacked the enthusiasm from the night before. “Coran chose not to be here. I suspect he already knows, but he hasn't told me.”

“Coran's a good person,” Lance admitted. “Probably the best of us all.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” Allura smiled.

“You know, this isn't how I imagined getting a girl into bed would be like,” Lance commented, pulling off his helmet. Allura's smile vanished. “Kidding! It's a joke, Allura. Humor? Alteans do have humor, yeah?”

“A different form of humor than humans, apparently,” Allura replied, still not smiling. “Have a seat.”

“I'd rather change out of the armor first,” Lance said.

“Please have a seat,” Allura repeated, patting the bed. Lance nodded, sitting down beside her.

“It's Shiro.” He figured steering into the skid would be best. Get it over with quick. Allura stared at Lance in surprise, her eyebrows raising high. “My Shiro, I mean. Coran knows the details, you can ask him, he already grilled me for them.” At Allura's questioning glance, he amended, “I mean, he already got all the details from me last night.”

Allura nodded, glancing away guiltily. Lance's brow furrowed as he wondered what was weighing so heavily on Allura's mind. She wasn't nearly as interested in his love life as she was the night before. Was she still concerned with the idea of Zarkon tracking Voltron through her?

“Lance,” Allura began, and there was heaviness and hesitance to her tone that had Lance straighten, staring at her in concern. “I wanted to know how you were adjusting to this universe.”

“What, really?” Lance grinned. “I'm doing fine. Hitting a few rough patches here and there, but I figure that's normal. Or, uh, as normal as can be expected. Actually, I don't think there's really any normal with this whole cross-dimensional bodyswap deal.” Lance laughed. “I'm just glad that the bodyswap was with myself, really. I don't know how I would survive if it was anyone else. Can you imagine if we had all bodyswapped with each other? If you were, like, Hunk, and Hunk was Pidge, and Coran was Keith while Pidge was Shiro.”

“Lance.” Allura cut through his rambling. “I wanted to assure you that everything is going to be alright. We are going to figure out how to undo this.”

“I don't doubt that,” Lance replied, his laughter trailing off. He didn't want to talk about how much he missed his own Shiro, how much he missed his own team. He couldn't burden her with such an unimportant thing, not compared to Zarkon. “Hey, Zarkon really isn't using you to track us. You know that, right?”

“I...” Allura glanced away. “We cannot dismiss the thought.”

“Allura.” Lance reached out, taking hold of her shoulders so he could really look at her. “It's not you. We're going to figure this out, yeah? We're Voltron, we're not going down without a fight.” He smiled. “Besides, if it is you, so what? Here is still the safest place for you.”

“Perhaps.” Allura didn't sound certain, but she stood before Lance could respond. “You've given me much to think about. I should go.”

“Allura.” Lance stood, reaching out and taking hold of her arm. “I...” Lance faltered. “We're going to figure this out. Don't worry.”

“I'm not worried about that, Lance,” Allura assured him. “You don't have to worry about that.”

“I'm the black paladin,” Lance replied with a smile. “It's my job to worry.”

Allura laughed. “So it is.”

Night came too soon, and Lance was back in the bed, back to laying down and trying to find a sleep that wouldn't come. Something in Lance snapped, and he got up, pulling on the slippers and the robe and leaving the room behind.

He knocked on Shiro's door.

“Lance?” Shiro blinked down at him, not in his armor, but still too overdressed for sleep.

“Hey.” Lance offered him a small smile. “I know what you said about sleeping on my own, but... the room's too quiet. I can't sleep.”

“You should be asking Hunk,” Shiro said, not moving. His tone was so soft, Lance could almost close his eyes and imagine it was his Shiro.

“Please,” Lance pleaded, and hated how small and broken his voice came out. “We don't have to make a habit of it, but maybe just this once I could...”

Lance trailed off, looking Shiro in the eyes. He hoped Shiro said yes, hoped Shiro said no. He wanted...

Lance wanted his Shiro. Wanted the warmth of cuddling up against his Shiro, wanted the soft way Shiro would hold him, wanted the way Shiro would melt into his arms. He wanted, so badly, for this Shiro to be his.

“Just this once.” Shiro stepped aside, and Lance nodded, not trusting his voice.

He stepped into the room.

“Where's Allura?” Lance looked around the bridge as they approached Taujeer. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the Galra to appear. “For that matter, where's Keith?”

“It appears one of the podships left the hangar late last night,” Coran looked up at Shiro. “A scan of the Castle shows Allura and Number Four aren't here.”

“What?” Lance stood from the blue seat, moving toward the helm. “Call up the podship.”

“Lance.” Shiro raised a hand, already standing. “Call them, Coran.”

They waited out the seconds as the call connected, and Lance burst out.

“What the cheese! What are you guys thinking!”

“Lance!” Shiro hissed. “Keith? Allura?”

“We're here,” Keith replied. “We left to keep Zarkon from finding you guys.”

Lance stormed up to his seat. “Keith, you turn that podship around right now.”

“No.” Allura's tone was heavy with finality. “Zarkon is tracking one of us, and we cannot jeopardize the Castle.”

“We don't even know that they're tracking you,” Shiro said, gesturing for Lance to return to the blue seat. “It could still be the Black Lion.”

“That is impossible,” Allura said. “A Paladin's bond with their Lion cannot reach such distances. A planetary body is the longest known distance that bond can be felt.”

“What happened to trusting us?” Lance cut in. “And what happened to Zarkon's ship being damaged? You said he wouldn't be able to go after us until he fixed his ship. We've still got several quintants until that happens.”

“It was an estimate,” Allura countered. “I've no idea how far Zarkon's progressed the Galra technology. His ship could already be fixed for all we know.”

“And what if it is,” Lance interrupted, holding a hand to stop Shiro from talking. “What if he finds you. What then?”

“We took the podship Pidge modified,” Keith answered. “We'll use the booster fuel to get away.”

“And go where?” Lance asked. “Allura, we need you to pilot the Castle.”

“You have Coran for that.”

“We need you to make the wormholes!”

“The Castle can travel without the use of wormholes,” Allura calmly replied.

“Keith,” Lance growled. “Keith, you turn that podship around. You set a course for Taujeer. Our scanners are showing no Galra anywhere near it, so we'll help them and then meet you halfway.”

“Lance.” Shiro butted in. “Keith, Allura, Lance is right. We need you here. You're safer here in the Castle than out there. And Keith, we need you to pilot the Red Lion. There's no Voltron without you.”

“You can find another pilot,” Keith said, but he sounded uncertain. Lance growled, leaning forward.

“Keith, we've reached mattress of lies,” Lance snarled. “You get back here and then we're going to have a talk about the importance of communication and trust in ones teammates. Both of you.”

Lance stepped away, walking off his anger and letting Shiro talk to Allura and Keith.

“Dude,” Hunk breathed.

“You're such a mother,” Pidge declared. “Also I think Shiro's about ready to throttle you.”

“Shiro likes me too much to do that,” Lance replied, waving off their concern. He wasn't sure about that, and knew that Shiro wouldn't want to ground Lance to the Castle when they were about to enter an unknown situation. “Talk to me about those scanners. Are we really reading no Galra?”

“We are.” Pidge typed on their console, better at the Altean keyboard than they were before. “At least, if I'm reading this right. I'm really spelling all this out, so it's slow to read, but I'm getting better at it.”

“There's my Pidgeotto.” Lance grinned, ruffling their hair. They growled, shoving him away, and he stepped toward Hunk, laughing. “And what about you, Hunk? Learn anything?”

“Actually, yeah.” Hunk nodded. “Me and Pidge helped Coran do some adjustments to the engines yesterday, and some of the Altean technology there really blows what we have back on Earth clear out of the atmosphere.”

“I thought we already knew that,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but their fuel efficiency is off the charts.” Hunk looked up at the Balmera crystal. “I really want to go back to the Balmera and really study it, you know? Learn more about the crystals.”

“You're the best Earth engineer in the universe, Hunk,” Lance praised, draping an arm over Hunk's shoulders to peer at the screen Hunk was looking at. “Now let's go help save the Taujeerians– Taujeerites? Taujeera? What do you think they call themselves?” Lance shook his head. “Whatever, we'll just ask them later. Let's go save their land.”

Taujeer was unlike anything Lance had ever thought possible. A planet shedding it's upper crust sounded so strange, but apparently the Galra had drained the planet of it's resources so badly that it was doing the shedding earlier than the Taujeerans had anticipated.

While Hunk fixed their ark, Lance, Pidge, and Shiro were drawing the attention of the Galra fleet cruiser that freaking appeared at the worst possible moment.

“How did this guy find us?” Pidge growled. “Do you think Zarkon sent him?”

“Who cares!” Lance called back. “Let's just keep him distracted enough not to actually call Zarkon here.”

Far below, the planet shuddered, the patch of land the ark was placed on cracking.

“Guys, I need help down here!” Hunk cried.

“Pidge, Lance, stop the land from breaking apart!” Shiro ordered. “ I'll keep this Galra from targeting you, just do it!”

“Got it!” The plant laser formed atop Green, while Lance dove into Blue, feeling for the chill cold of the ice beam. Green blasted plant life into the cracks, while Blue iced over it, freezing it in place. It was a patchwork measure, and one they both knew wouldn't be permanent.

“Guys, we need Voltron,” Lance declared, dodging more laser blasts from the fleet cruiser.

“Where's Keith?” Shiro asked. “We need the Red Lion.”

“Not to worry, Paladins!” Coran cried over the comms. “I'm on the case!”

“Who would have thought that phase was universal,” Lance grumbled. He glanced up at the Castle, seeing Red fly out – and away. “Uh, Coran? You do know how to pilot a Lion, right?”

“Actually, that wasn't me,” Coran replied, sounding dejected. Lance dodged laser fire, icing the Taujeer landscape so it would stop breaking apart already. “The Red Lion wouldn't open up for me, and then she went off!”

“Went off where?” Lance asked.

“Guys?” Keith came over the comms. “I'm here in Red. With Allura.”

“You better be,” Lance growled. “Red went for you? How far away from us were you?”

“At least three systems,” Allura replied, in awe. “I've never heard of such a thing before.”

“Keith drop Allura at the Castle,” Shiro ordered. “Then get down here. We need Voltron!”

“So,” Lance said, walking onto the bridge and looking Allura in the eye. “We need to talk about what trust means to Alteans.”

“It means the same thing as you Earthlings, I do believe,” Coran replied, and Lance nodded.

“So it does.” He focused on Allura. “So, Allura. When you came to talk yester-quintant, you already made up your mind to leave, yeah?”

“At the time I believed it to be the best course of action,” Allura replied, standing firm.

“Lance,” Shiro interrupted, putting a hand on Lance's shoulder. “Don't go picking fights.”

“I'm not,” Lance replied, his anger melting away at the cold way Shiro looked at him. “I'm not,” Lance repeated, weakly.

Shiro's expression softened, and he turned away to address the team. “So now we know for sure how Zarkon is tracking us.”

“The Black Lion,” Lance added, nodding. He wondered if the same sequence of events was happening back in his universe, wondered how the other Lance was handling this revelation. He wondered if they even knew yet, or if something entirely different had happened. Here, in this universe, they had gotten lucky enough to figure it out for themselves. He had no idea if anything was happening the same way – had his team and the other Lance gone after Ulaz? Saved the Olkari? The Taujeerans?

“I hadn't believed it possible, but,” Allura shook her head, “we were at least three systems away, and the Red Lion still heard Keith.”

“Speaking of, where is he?” Lance asked, and wilted at the stern look Shiro gave him. He threw his arms up in surrender. “I want to check in with him, not chew him out!”

“Keith went directly to his room,” Coran said.

“Alright, I'll go see him when this team meeting is done.” Lance smiled, already preparing his speech to get Keith to tell the truth. “So! How do we break Zarkon's magic connection with the Black Lion?”

“It's not a matter of we,” Shiro answered. “It's a matter of me. I have to forge a deeper bond with the Black Lion.”

Lance blinked, eyebrows rising. That... he wondered if the other Lance could do the same. If Black was even piloting as smooth for a Lance from a different universe, a Lance who was more suited to pilot Blue than Black.

He hoped so. Crow, did he hope so.

Knocking on the door, Lance hoped that Keith wouldn't force him to barge into the bedroom.

The door slid open, and every argument Lance had died on the edge of his lips. Keith looked terrible, dark bags under his eyes, and he looked pale, almost ashen.

“Keith?” Lance stared at Keith in concern. “Are you alright? Can I come in?”

Keith groaned. “Fine. Come in.”

Lance walked over to the bed. “You look like you haven't slept in a couple days.”

“It's been a long week,” Keith replied, shrugging.

“Look, I know what I said about the mattress of lies but, Keith, this isn't good.” Lance shook his head, reaching out to pull Keith into sitting beside him. “I get that you don't want to talk about it, but you've been losing sleep over this, and clearly whatever it is, it's pretty ba–”

“I think I'm Galra.”

Lance's words died in his throat, and he harshly swallowed them. “Oh?”

“Really?” Keith snorted, looking at Lance like he was crazy. “I tell you that, and that's all you can say about it?”

“Why do you think that?” Lance asked. “Come on, pretend this is a test at the Garrison. Show your work and all that. Explain how you got to thinking that.”

“I–” Keith pulled out his knife, and Lance watched as he steadily unwrapped the hilt. “I've had this all my life. As long as I can remember, it's been mine. My dad, he– he left when I was young. I don't know where. But I remember him saying once, when he first showed it to me back when I was six or seven, that it belonged to my mother. He said that she wanted me to have it, so I could find her one day.”

The cloth wrapping fell away, and Lance stared at the glowing purple symbol on the flat of the blade, near the handle. The glowing Galra symbol.

“I didn't realize,” Keith continued, “that this was a Galra symbol until Sendak took over the Castle. Everything was written in Galra when that crystal was plugged in, and it all looked like this. And then at the Balmera, I didn't think anything of it at the time, but looking back... the console to close the bay doors was locked so only a Galra could operate it. And I placed my hand on the pad like Shiro does with his arm and it... closed. And then the moon base.” Keith chuckled, dry and humorless. “I fought one of Zarkon's witches there. Got hit with a blast and then coated in the quintessence. It healed my burns.” Keith looked at Lance, eyes wide and shaky. “Zarkon, when he fought me. He said I fight like a Galra.”

“Keith,” Lance began, looking from the knife to Keith. “That – that doesn't mean anything. It's all flimsy evidence.”

“Ulaz,” Keith said, looking back at the knife. He ran a thumb over the symbol. “That sword he had, it had the same symbol. I asked him about it, on the base. He said – he said it's the symbol of the Blade of Marmora.” Keith looked at Lance. “Lance, I think I'm a Galra.”

Lance felt his heart break, a little, at how small Keith's voice was. Lance reached out, pulling Keith into a hug.

“It's okay,” Lance said. Keith shook in his grip. “It's going to be okay.” Lance let out a shuddering breath. “Everything's going to be okay.”

He rubbed at Keith's back, even as Keith started to shudder for a different reason entirely. Lance tightened his hold on Keith. They would figure this out.

Lance hoped, desperately, that the other Lance was going to be as sensitive when his Keith approached him about this. He hoped, desperately, that his Keith was going to be as okay as this Keith.

“Don't worry,” Lance promised Keith, holding him tight. “We're going to figure this out. You're going to be alright. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Lance, now that he wasn't so exhausted, could really appreciate spending the night with Shiro. He was aware of how Shiro sat on the edge of the bed while Lance took the black pajamas and fled into the bathroom to change and put on his face mask. Lance was aware of Shiro when he tentatively crawled into bed, laying down and waiting for Shiro to wrap his arms around him. Tugging his sleep mask down, Lance felt the bed shift, Shiro – Lance stiffened, trying not to panic as Shiro crawled over him to lay on his left side.

He wasn't a stranger to bed sharing, not with a family as large as his. But with Shiro, things were – not bad, or weird, but... different. Shiro wasn't a toddler, for one thing. Shiro was large, and muscular, and heavy because of it, weighing the mattress down and pulling Lance toward him.

“Sooooo,” Lance sighed, rolling to face Shiro, his sleep mask still over his eyes. He tilted his head, hopefully pointing his face at Shiro's. “Cuddling. What, are we looking at here? You cuddle me like a teddy bear? I hug you like an octopus? What's the protocol here?”

Shiro huffed in laughter, and Lance felt his cheeks redden. It felt like a valid question. “There's no protocol. I just... another body here in bed is nice.”

“So I'm just a body pillow to you.” Lance flopped onto his back, throwing an arm over his head. “I feel so used.” Lance paused, turning his head to face Shiro again. “You had a deep anime phase, didn't you?”

“I did not!” Shiro yelped, shoving at Lance. Lance grinned, hearing the laughter in Shiro's voice, and rolled around to prop up on his arms. Back in his universe, Lance would never have had this conversation, would never have even dreamed of talking so casually with Shiro.

“Nah, you totally did.” Lance nodded, looking thoughtful. “You had a wall full of posters. What was it? Dragonball? It wasn't Naruto, was it?” Lance gasped. “Oh! It was a space one, wasn't it!”

Shiro groaned, and the bed shifted. “It was Gundam.”

Lance paused. “The... the robot one?” His jaw dropped. “The space robot– you were a space robot kid!”

The bed shifted again, and Lance felt Shiro lean in close. “Most people wouldn't know that Gundam takes place in space.” An arm wrapped around Lance, pulling him up against Shiro's chest. Lance's breath stuttered, and he felt Shiro nosing at his hair, a huff of laughter buried there. “You were a Gundam kid too.”

“Cowboy Bebop and Trigun,” Lance mumbled into Shiro's chest. He snorted, a grin curling along his lips. “Crow, I haven't thought about those in years.”

“The ancient classics,” Shiro grinned into Lance's hair. “They're pretty good. And here I thought you were just Star Trek.”

“I am a complex individual,” Lance protested without any bite. He pulled his face away to give Shiro his best glare. “And what about you? Any more hidden depths you've got hiding away in that head of yours?”

“Well, there is the sadly unfinished Gundam fanfiction I left behind,” Shiro sighed, and Lance gaped. “Kidding! I crammed to finish it before I left Earth.”

“You...” Lance shook his head. “I don't even know you.”

Shiro laughed, and Lance felt it, pressed against Shiro's chest like he was. “I can tell.”

Lance's elation ebbed away, leaving behind a quiet calm. It was easy, for a moment, to forget his worries, his reservations. Here, in bed, it was Lance and it was Shiro, and he didn't feel concerned with where he was in space, in which universe, in Voltron. There was nothing connecting him to the outside world, nothing but Shiro's presence grounding him to that bed, that moment.

He wondered, for a moment, if that feeling, that calming security, was what he offered Shiro.

“Come here,” Lance grumbled, pushing and poking at Shiro's chest. “You keep cuddling me. It's past time I started paying you back. Make some room, I will cuddle you into oblivion.”

“I don't doubt that,” Shiro mused, amusement heavy in his voice. Shiro shifted, giving Lance the room to throw his arms around Shiro, hugging him close. He felt Shiro's arm – Shiro's left arm, his flesh arm – reach up and over, curling around lance. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” Lance mumbled, laying his head on Shiro's chest. He could hear the staccato drumbeat of Shiro's heart, feel the steady rise of Shiro's chest. “This is a duty. You don't thank a person for doing that.”

Shiro huffed, and Lance felt Shiro's abs, through the pajamas, constrict in laughter. “You're the same, Lance. Even across universes.”

Beneath his sleep mask, Lance winced.

“Guess I'm a multiverse constant, huh?” Lance joked, and Shiro hummed. The sound rumbled, and Lance let himself get lost in the feeling, let the sound of Shiro's heart fill him as he slipped into sleep.

“Lance. Lance, get up.”

“Bwuh?” Lance reached up, pulling off the sleep mask. He blinked up at Shiro, who was–

Lance scrambled into a seated position, balling the blanket over his lap. Shiro stood across from the bed, halfway through the motion of putting on his shirt.

Shiro raised his eyebrows at the motion, and Lance felt his face burn bright. He was more thankful for his face mask in that moment than he had ever been before.

“Uh.” Lance tried to look away from Shiro, but couldn't. Shiro smiled ruefully.

“It's okay,” Shiro said, turning away. Lance bemoaned the loss of sight of Shiro's abs, instead taking in the sight of Shiro's back. “I get it. Not the first time either of us got hit with morning wood.”

“What?” Lance squeaked. “I– that is–”

“Lance.” Shiro held up a hand. “We're two out of five humans out here. And we're half of the guy population. I know none of the training for space travel prepared for that, but I don't think any of us counted on there being artificial gravity technology out here.”

“I–” Lance tried to regain his composure, tried harder not to imagine waking up to Shiro's– to feeling– “I'm going– I'm gonna get– get dressed.”

“Alright.” Shiro smirked, like he knew what was running through Lance's mind and was enjoying it, and Lance wished the Castle would eject him out into space. It would have been a far nobler death. He would leave everything to Hunk.

The Castle was not so kind as to suddenly drop Lance into an open airlock, and he was left scrambling toward the bathroom, nearly forgetting his clothes and dragging the blanket halfway across the room in the process. Shiro laughed, tossing Lance's robe at him as he moved toward the door.

“You're so mean,” Lance complained, pulling on the robe. “Why were you my hero again?”

“I don't know,” Shiro replied, throwing a smile over his shoulder at Lance. Lance gawked at the unfairness that was Shiro's level of beauty. “Meet me in the training room? We can work on your footwork. I forgot how fast a learner you are.”

“I– yes?” Lance didn't mean for it to come out as much of a question as it did, but he jerkily nodded his head. Shiro paused at the door, looking back at Lance curiously, and Lance elaborated. “Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. Training.”

Lance ran into the bathroom, clutching his clothes to his chest.

“Unfair,” Lance muttered into his jacket. He slumped to the floor, back against the door. “So unfair.”

He liked this universe, liked everything about it. Lance liked it, and he hated that. He hated that he liked another universe more than his own. He hated that little twinge of envy that curled in his gut when something happened to highlight just how different this universe was from his own. He wanted whatever it was that the other Lance had with Keith. He wanted the camaraderie that this team had.

He wanted the closeness that the other Lance had with Shiro.

He wanted, wanted, wanted. He wanted it all so much, but he deserved none of it. This wasn't his universe, this team wasn't his, this Shiro wasn't his to have.

But Lance didn't want to leave. It was selfish, so selfish of him, to want to stay. He wanted to stay, wanted to– Lance didn't know, but he wanted.

But he couldn't do that to this universe, couldn't do that to this team. He couldn't do that to this Shiro. It was unfair to them, that he wanted to stay forever in this universe. They needed the other Lance, the one who was better than him, the one who could lead them, who could pilot the Black Lion and be the head of Voltron. They needed the other Lance, their Lance.

They didn't deserve Lance. Not when every time they formed Voltron with him at the head, it ended in disaster, not victory.

But he couldn't just leave them, couldn't not lead them. He couldn't do that to them. He couldn't put that burden on this Shiro.

Lance got up, setting his clothes aside as he began to peel and wash away his face mask. Looking himself in the mirror, Lance nodded in satisfaction when his pristine self started to emerge.

“Now that's more like it.” Lance smiled at his reflection. Undoing the robe, he paused, staring down at a problem he'd thought would go away. Pointing a finger, Lance growled, “No. No, bad. Down, boy.”

The problem did not go down, reminding Lance of the reason for it – Shiro's muscles. He really wished it was just a confused morning wood, but no such luck. Shiro's muscles were just so, so...

“Fine!” Lance grumbled, hand inching down. “But this means nothing!”

Stepping onto the training deck, Lance still didn't know how to feel about seeing Shiro in the blue armor, or himself in the black armor. After all the events of the last four days, his discomfort at seeing Shiro wear his color, at seeing himself wear Shiro's color, had faded. In its place was... something resembling neutrality with just a hint of butterfly in his stomach.

“So what's on the agenda for today?” Lance asked, strolling up to Shiro. The blue bayard was in Shiro's hand, but wasn't activated. Lance eyed it warily. “Am I going to fight you again?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could try you against the gladiator bot,” Shiro replied. Lance froze, remembering his first time against the gladiator bot. His fingers itched for a bayard that wasn't there. Shiro held up his bayard. “I'd still be in the room, though. I will step in if it looks like you're having a tough time, don't worry.”

“I'm not worried!” Lance declared, bravado pushing through his hesitation. “I can handle it!”

Shiro nodded, but kept his bayard in hand. He stepped away from Lance, moving toward the wall. “Start training sequence,” Shiro called out. “Level one.”

The gladiator dropped down, and Lance raised his hands, finger moving to the trigger to fire – only to catch on air.

“Quiznack!” Lance moved, the gladiator moving with him. The staff spun in its hands, catching Lance across the chest and sending him tumbling. Looking over at Shiro, Lance grinned and offered a thumbs up. “I'm alive.”

“Wasn't worried about that,” Shiro called out. He gestured above Lance. “Also you should move.”

“What?” Lance turned to the gladiator. Rolling, Lance dodged the staff, looking wide-eyed as it stabbed at the floor where his stomach was a moment before. “It's a staff! It's not a stabby weapon!”

“Level one, remember?” Shiro reminded Lance, grinning like a loon. “No sharp edges to hurt the Altean children.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Lance shrieked, scrabbling onto his hands and knees. The gladiator jabbed at him twice more before Lance could move far enough away to get to his feet. “Because it isn't. It isn't reassuring me.” Lance ducked when the gladiator rushed him again, the staff swinging. He glanced at Shiro, eyes wide. “Shouldn't you be stepping in by now?” Lance ducked under the gladiator's legs, running across the room, the gladiator giving chase. “What happened to stepping in?”

“I've seen you when you really need help,” Shiro answered, still grinning, but it was a fonder grin, a softer grin. Lance both liked and hated that grin. “Trust me, you're not in any trouble that I'd need to step in.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lance argued, ducking another swing of the staff. Lance got down again, dodging another stab before crawling back to his feet. The gladiator swung again, low and for his legs, and Lance jumped it. “Huh.”

The staff swung upwards, diagonally, and Lance got clipped on the chest, sending him flying. He looked at Shiro.

“It has a pattern.” Lance got to his feet, grinning as the gladiator rushed him. “It doesn't do anything but swing and jab. No fancy tricks.”

Lance ducked the first swing, a high one, and tackled the gladiator. The gladiator froze, feet skidding, before Lance's added weight overpowered it, sending it falling. Lance grinned, glad to finally have the upper hand, before the gladiator grabbed him, tossing him aside like he weighed nothing.

It was too late, though, Lance saw, as the gladiator hit the floor. The gladiator froze, the floor opening up beneath it. Shiro clapped, his bayard vanishing between claps.

“That wasn't half bad,” Shiro commented, walking over to help Lance to his feet.

“First of all,” Lance began, rubbing his chest. “Ow. Second, I think I did alright.”

“You did about as well as I figured,” Shiro said. “It took you longer than I expected, though.”

“What the cheese,” Lance grumbled, taking Shiro's hand and stumbling to his feet. “Just how good is the other me?”

Shiro frowned. “You really shouldn't be comparing yourself to him, Lance.”

“You're comparing me to him,” Lance pointed out, catching his breath.

“I'm comparing you to the first time I caught you– him here, fighting the gladiator bot.” Shiro patted Lance on the shoulder. “I'm pretty sure my point of reference wasn't his first time beating the gladiator bot.”

“What makes you say that?” Lance asked. “Did I not cheer when I won?”

“No, you did,” Shiro corrected Lance. “You pumped the air and yelled about a new high score.”

“Yeah?” Lance straightened up, smiling. “So, what kind of score system was I working off of? Number of hits? Time to beat the level?”

“No idea.” Shiro shook his head, walking over to the wall. “Why don't you come up with your own? Restart sequence, level one.”

“What?” Lance looked from Shiro to the new gladiator dropping down, staff in hand. “Shiro! Hey! That's just not fair!”

“You keep using that word,” Shiro said, looking at Lance with amusement. “I don't think it means what you think it means?”

“What the cheese?” Lance ducked the gladiator's first swing. “Was that a– did you just– Shiro! You can't just quote The Princess Bride! Shiro!”

Shiro, leaning against the wall, laughed.

Lance rubbed at his chest, his helmet under arm. He glared at Shiro from the corner of his eye. Shiro, meanwhile, was smiling. Together, they walked toward the kitchen for breakfast.

“Did you really have to run that last sequence?” Lance grumbled. “I think the gladiator bruised my ribs.”

“The armor keeps you from getting hurt that bad,” Shiro replied, but still glanced at Lance in concern. “But if it still hurts after breakfast, we can still go and see if the med bay has anything to help.”

Lance looked at Shiro in surprise, before shaking his head. “And they call me the mom friend...”

“That's because you are!” Pidge called out from around the corner. Lance jumped, before scowling.

“Pidge, you little monster!” Lance stalked into the kitchen, sliding into his seat across from Keith. “I am not the mom friend. And how do you even know that?”

“You're totally a soccer mom, dude,” Hunk agreed, and Keith looked from Hunk to Pidge before nodding at Lance.

“That's it!” Keith grinned. “That's exactly what it is! You're like that PTA soccer mom!”

“Keith, don't talk to your mother that way,” Shiro reprimanded, sliding into place beside Lance. He set his helmet on the table, beside Lance's. Lance grumbled about how caring for others wasn't a mom trait. Coran popped by, gleaming just the same as he was the night before, and ladled goo into the bowl before Lance. At the head of the table, Allura was scrolling through a tablet and frowning.

“Did either of your get sleep last night?” Lance asked, munching on a spoonful of goo. He shivered, biting back a moan as it tasted like tater tots. When he returned to his universe, the food would be one of the things Lance was sure he would miss the most. Swallowing, Lance amended, “Or, like, rest?”

“Coran convince me to get some rest late last night,” Allura answered, not looking up from her tablet.

“And the teludav did more than cure me of the Slipperies,” Coran added, grinning widely. “I feel like a young Altean again! I could run the whole length of the Castle without getting out of breath, I'd wager!”

“Don't,” Hunk held up a hand. Beside him, Keith nodded emphatically. “Please, just... don't.”

Lance reached out, nudging at Pidge's untouched bowl of goo. “Pidge? Food goo? Have you just ignored it or are you actually not hungry?”

“Yeah, Pidge, listen to our space mom,” Hunk added, picking up the bowl and waving it in front of Pidge. Lance ignored the comment in favor of focusing on his own bowl of goo. He stared at the two helmets, mind beginning to wander. What were the circumstances that happened that led to Shiro finding out he was the Blue Paladin? What changed? Was it Hunk and Shiro who went to retrieve–

“Hunk, Pidge, no!” Lance glanced up when Shiro lunged across the table, stopping the bowl of goo from upending onto Pidge's laptop. Lance grabbed his bowl, pulling it out of the line of Shiro's body, and the helmets got knocked aside.

“Whoa!” Lance stood, setting aside his bowl of goo. “Pidge. What's so important that you can't eat your food goo?”

Lance glared down at Pidge while Hunk muttered, “Oooooh. Someone's in trouble~!”

“Purposely ignoring that,” Lance pointedly directed at Hunk, before refocusing on Pidge. “Come on, Pidge. Spill. What are you working on?”

“Okay so I got an idea,” Pidge began, pushing their laptop on to the table, clear of Shiro's body, and spinning it so everyone could see the screen. “And I figured that I could combine a lot of the Galra info we have with a lot of the scanner tech we have and tada! It's a Galra scanner!”

“A Galra scanner?” Lance echoed, looking at the screen. Shiro shimmied off of the table to look himself, before frowning in confusion.

“A what?” Allura looked up from her tablet and at Pidge, baffled.

“A Galra scanner.” Pidge nodded. “See, I figured we could combine the universal scanner with some info we pulled from Sendak and that secret moon base and make it so that we could know where the most Galra are located. Basically, the alert goes off when it finds the nearest planet with a high likelihood of finding Galra.”

Pidge's computer pinged. Lance leaned forward, frowning when he spotted that it was all in Altean. “Pidge, I can't read this.”

Pidge spun the laptop, glaring at Lance. “Of course not, it's the Altean software. Which is written in Altean.”

“I have to say, this Earth technology is fascinating. I must learn how it works someday.”

“But not today,” Pidge growled, reaching over their laptop protectively.

“So what planet pinged on your system?” Lance asked.

“It's called...” Pidge squinted at the screen. “Tau... jeer?”

“Taujeer, yes.” Coran nodded. He beamed, patting Pidge on the head. “I did say I would have you reading like a scholar by the next astral conflux.”

“You did,” Pidge neutrally admitted, looking at Coran's arm. Keith reached over, gently plucking Coran's hand and guiding it away from Pidge's head. “Anyway. I figure we can use this to either avoid Zarkon, because his megaship has got to be the highest concentration of Galra anywhere.”

“Or we can use it to hit Zarkon where it hurts the most,” Keith offered.

“That's assuming it works like it's supposed to,” Lance mused. “Why did Taujeer pop up?”

“It–” Pidge squinted at their screen, and Coran read over it.

“Ah, it appears it sent out a distress beacon,” Coran replied. “Rather recently by the looks of it.”

“Then let's go,” Lance said. “Allura, you said Zarkon's ship got hit pretty hard last night, yeah?”

“It did,” Allura agreed. “Although the Castle still needs repairs.”

“Oh! I can help with that!” Hunk held up his hand, bouncing in place. He paused, reaching his hand down and grabbing hold of Pidge's free arm, nearly hitting Coran in the face when he lifted both in the air. “We can help with that!”

“Then it's settled.” Lance sat back down. “While Zarkon can't chase us, we wormhole on over to Taujeer and see what we can do to help. Plus, it means we can find out if Pidge's Galra scanner really works.”

“It does!” Pidge hissed. “Don't doubt my skills, Lance.”

“NO can do on that wormhole, Lance,” Coran interrupted. “Hunk's cookies, while they did contain scaultrite, were brittle after that one jump we did. They turned to ash while I was studying them. That jump was our only one, unfortunately. We need more scaultrite lenses.”

“Don't say we're harvesting scaultrite, don't say we're harvesting scaultrite,” Hunk chanted under his breath.

“Fortunately, it appears we're within travel distance of an unilu swap moon!” Coran grinned. “Space pirates can be found there, and you can find anything you like at a swap moon. Why, I'd wager we could get enough scaultrite lenses there for three Castle of Lions.”

“YES!” Hunk shouted, jumping up triumphantly. Everyone stared at him, and he grinned sheepishly. “I'm just, uh, so happy! That we've caught a break like this.”

“Yeah. Happy.” Lance shared a look with Shiro, who matched his grin. Turning back to Coran, Lance asked, “So how far away are Taujeer and that swap moon?”

“At our current course and speed, I'd say...” Coran hummed, ticking off his fingers. “Ah! We'd reach Taujeer early tomorrow, and another two quintants to the swap moon.”

“That finger counting better be more accurate than it was the last time,” Lance warned, but without any venom. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he ignored it. “That's cool, though. We could use a break after the last couple days. Hide out away from Zarkon's radar and all.”

“I'm not sure we are free from Zarkon's pursuit.” Allura leaned forward, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. “I still fear that it is me that he is using to find Voltron.”

“Whoa, hey.” Lance bent down to pick up the fallen helmets. He handed Shiro's over to him, not taking his eyes off of Allura. “It's not you.”

“It's me.” Everyone turned to look at Keith, who shrank in his seat.

“You?” Lance snorted. “What are you talking about?”

“I just– Zarkon must have imprinted on me or something, when I fought him.” Keith shrugged. Lance squinted.

“Right,” Lance replied, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Imprinted.”

“It's a thing!” Keith argued.

“Lance.” Shiro drew Lance's attention, and held out the black helmet. “You gave me the wrong helmet.”

“I did?” Lance glanced down at the blue helmet in his hands. “Oh.” He chuckled. “Right. Forgot for a moment there. Our roles are all reversed– oh. Oh!” Lance pointed at Hunk. “You!”

Hunk squeaked. “Me?”

“The Yellow Lion!” Lance said, starting to pace. “You and me, back in my universe, went after it. But here it was you and Shiro, yeah?”

“That's right,” Shiro replied, looking at Lance curiously. “Where are you going with this?”

“It's been bugging me,” Lance said, still pacing. “Here, this universe. Ulaz said that you were brought along because he knew you were the Blue Paladin, and Zarkon knew that the Blue Lion was on Earth.”

“He did,” Allura said, looking at Lance curiously.

“And the Yellow Lion,” Lance continued. “Hunk, back in my universe, the Galra were mining where it was.”

“Yeah, that happened here too.” Hunk made a face. “It seemed like they were digging for Yellow.”

“And Red?” Lance asked, looking at Keith. “Red was up on Sendak's ship, right?”

“Yeah?” Keith looked at Shiro. “Did he hit his head or something?”

Shiro shook his head. “Just got caught in the chest and legs a couple times.”

“And Coran's finger counting,” Lance said, whirling on Coran. “Back on Arus, it was off. Sendak was a lot closer than we expected.”

“Get to the point, Lance,” Shiro said, reaching out to steady Lance.

“The point is,” Lance concluded. “Zarkon's the former Black Paladin. I felt it last night, he's got a bond with Black. He's wanted her all this time. Maybe – maybe he knew where the Castle of Lions was all this time. But he couldn't get to Black, because he needed all four of the other Lions to access the Castle. That's why Sendak was so close to Arus, and why he had Red with him. And why the Galra were digging for Yellow, and why Shiro was sent along to get Blue!” Lance breathed, slumping into his chair. “He didn't need to know that we were on Arus, that Galra ship chasing us away from Earth called him up and he had Sendak put on alert just in case Blue went here. To the Castle. Because he knew Shiro escaped and ran with Blue.” Lance grinned at Allura. “Zarkon hasn't been tracking us before, so he's not using you to find us.”

“That–” Allura frowned. “That sounds reasonable enough.” She turned toward the tablet. “But that doesn't explain how he has been able to find us in the time since our attack on the Galra High Command.”

“He's the former Black Paladin,” Lance offered, catching his breath. “When I made the switchback to my universe, Zarkon just – I could feel him, Allura. I could feel him take control of Black. He took control of Voltron through Black.”

“That explains how Voltron broke apart when we went in to save Allura,” Shiro breathed, looking from Lance to Allura and back again. “And why Black shut down and ejected you!”

“The Black Lion what?” Allura looked around the table, shock on her features. “Someone will explain what he is talking about this instant!”

“Like I said, Zarkon used his bond with the Black Lion to take control of Voltron both times.” Lance turned the blue helmet over in his hands. “In my universe, it was Shiro that was ejected, and he went to meet you and Hunk. I... I guess he had a run-in with a space with like your Lance did?” Lance shrugged. “I honestly don't know. But I do know that Zarkon's got a bond with Black, and he's exploiting the quiznack out of it.”

“That may be,” Allura began, looking uncertain. “But that only explains those two instances. Not how Zarkon has been able to track us to places he should have no knowledge of.”

“But it does,” Lance insisted. “You didn't feel him, Allura. Zarkon stopped the hurricane that is Voltron.”

“Hurricane?” Shiro's brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, hurricane.” Lance nodded, waving his hand. “You know, Blue talks with the sounds of the ocean and all things water, Black with wind and birds. And Voltron is one big force of nature. A hurricane.”

Shiro shook his head. “I think that's just something unique to you, Lance.”

Lance shrugged. It felt strange, to open up like that so readily. “Still, Zarkon's got a deep bond with Black. He's definitely using that bond to track us.”

“He cannot,” Allura argued. “The bond between Paladin and Lion is not that strong.”

“It felt that strong, Allura,” Lance said. “I could probably feel him if I went down to Black right now.”

“It's not possible for Zarkon to use his bond with the Black Lion,” Allura insisted.

“The Princess is right,” Coran softly agreed. “The largest recorded distance of a Paladin feeling their Lion is one planetary body.”

“Well, it's not you,” Lance groaned, slumping in his chair. He held up the blue helmet, handing it over to Shiro. He received the black helmet in return. “And if it's not Black, then how do you explain it?”

“I do not know,” Allura said. Beside Pidge, Keith slumped down in his seat. “Now, if you are done with your morning nourishment, perhaps we can return to your paladin training?”

“Quite right!” Coran straightened up. “I do believe today we're working on trust exercises.”

“Not the maze again.” Lance slumped into his chair. He just couldn't win with that one.

After a fairly uneventful training, in which Lance managed to guide Hunk and Keith out of the maze before Pidge and Shiro did the same for him, Lance was pulled aside by Keith.

“We need to talk.” Keith led Lance toward his room, before pausing and yanking Lance by the arm into Lance's empty room. He spared a baffled look over his shoulder at the others, who looked on before continuing about their business.

“So.” Lance turned to face Keith, brushing off his armor. “If this is about using the bed, I'm–”

“This isn't about that.” Keith paced the room, looking frazzled, and Lance frowned. “I just – I need to tell you something. I tried to last night but then the alarm and everything just–”

Keith cut himself off with a strangled groan. Lance winced.

“Okay, why don't we sit down,” Lance offered, reaching his hands out to guide Keith to the bed. “And then we can try that communication stuff you talked about.”

“Yeah.” Keith shakily nodded. “Yeah, that's good.”

Lance sat Keith down on the bed, sitting down beside him a moment later. “So where do you want to start?”

“I–” Keith reached into his armor, pulling out his knife. “Here. Let's start here.”

“Alright.” Lance watched as Keith unsheathed it.

“I've had this for about ten years,” Keith said. “My dad gave it to me when I was eight or nine.”

“Your dad gave you a knife?” Lance stared at Keith, aghast. Keith glared at Lance, but it lacked the usual venom.

“He did,” Keith sourly said. “He said – he said it used to belong to my mom. That she wanted me to have it.”

“Why?” Lance asked.

“Dad said it was so that I could find her one day.” Keith shook his head. He picked at the handle, and the cloth wrapping started to come apart. “He left a little while after that, so I never found out what he meant by that. I don't– I thought she was dead.”

“Oh, man.” Lance made a face. “I didn't know.”

“I got sent to Shiro's family – it's sort of how we know each other, his family fostered me until I went to the Garrison.” Keith shrugged. “But that's another story.”

“Then what's this one?” Lance asked. The knife turned in Keith's hands, the cloth unraveling.

“Ulaz had this blade,” Keith said.

“I remember.” How could Lance forget. “What about it?”

“There was this symbol on the blade,” Keith explained. The cloth fell away form the knife. Lance followed Keith's gaze to the uncovered hilt of the blade. Keith rubbed his thumb over the glowing purple symbol. “This symbol.”

“What?” Lance looked from the blade to Keith. “Keith, what's this about?”

“Ulaz said it was– it's the symbol used by the Blade of Marmora.” Keith breathed out. “And that's not all. There was– back on the Balmera, me and Pidge–”

“You put your hand on the panel,” Lance finished. Keith looked at Lance, wide-eyed. “I got paired with you for that mission in my universe. I didn't think anything about it, since the trap and the robeast happened after.”

“Zarkon, he–” Keith shuddered. “When I fought him. He said I– I fought like a Galra.”

“Keith that doesn't mean anything!” Lance protested. “For all we know, he was talking about diving headfirst into danger.”

“Lance be serious here!” Keith snapped. Lance winced, offering a quiet apology. “We both know he wasn't talking about that! Zarkon doesn't know about any of us beyond Shiro. For all he knew, I–” Keith cut off, looking down at the blade in his hands. “I could be Galra.”

“Keith.” Lance placed a hand on Keith's shoulder. “We've seen Galra. You don't look like any of them.”

“That's not–” Keith shrugged Lance's hand off, standing up. “On the secret moon base, I fought one of the witches there. I got hit by an attack and It– I got burned, yeah, but I didn't just get burned. Lance, part of my hand turned purple. Galra purple.”

Lance's mouth snapped shut, his teeth clicking together. He looked at Keith, looked at how nervous Keith was.

“Well,” Lance began. “You're mostly human. We know that much.”

“Lance, I–” Keith stopped, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I'm Galra.”

“We don't know that,” Lance repeated, although the argument fell flat even to his ears. Lance patted the bed. “Come here.”

Keith eyed the bed warily.

“It's not going to bite,” Lance said. Keith hesitantly sat down, placing some distance between himself and Lance. Frowning, Lance closed the gap. “There. Now, let's say you're right. You're really–” Lance gulped. “You're really Galra.”

Keith flinched, looking away. His arm went limp, the knife dangling precariously from his fingers.

“It means I'm the one Zarkon's tracking,” Keith dully said.

“It doesn't mean that,” Lance offered.

“Pidge made a Galra scanner, Lance!” Keith argued. “And for all we know, Zarkon has one too. He's scanning for Galra and he's finding me. Or he imprinted on me, and he's using some magic Galra bond to find us through me. Or–”

“Keith,” Lance interrupted, throwing an arm over Keith's shoulders. “You're babbling.”

“You're not denying any of those ideas,” Keith said, his voice small. “You can't deny it either.”

“I think it's Black,” Lance calmly, steadily replied. “I know it's Black.”

“But the chance it's me–”

“But it isn't,” Lance gently, firmly said. “It isn't you.”

“It could be,” Keith mumbled. He looked up at Lance, eyes brimming with tears. “I'm Galra.”

Lance grimaced, pulling Keith in close. “That doesn't change anything,” Lance firmly declared. “You're still the same hotheaded genius pilot you always were, Keith. Now you just know a bit more about your family history.” Lance pulled Keith out of the hug, making a face. “Let's wipe away those tears. You're an ugly crier. It's awful. It's– oh, ew, there's snot. Keith, you've got snot. Come here, let me.”

Lance reached out to wipe Keith's nose with his arm, and Keith pushed back, but he was laughing, and he looked less like he was about to burst into tears or pass out, so Lance considered it a win.

“There!” Lance grinned in victory, wiping Keith's face clean. Nodding to himself, Lance took firm hold of Keith's shoulders. “Look, you being Galra really shouldn't change anything. All it means is now you have something to fill out when the hospitals hand you the form about family history.”

Keith snorted, pushing at Lance. “That's awful.”

“But you're smiling anyway,” Lance commented, grinning.

“Didn't say it wasn't funny,” Keith offered, wiping at his eyes. He sniffed. “Please don't tell anyone.”

“I–” Lance paused, then nodded. “I won't. Not unless you want me to.”

Who could he tell? Who would he tell? No one else on the ship was that open to the idea of a Galra in their ranks.

“Thanks.” Keith smiled.

“Anytime.” Lance pat Keith on the shoulder. “Seriously. Come to me for anything. I helped raise five kids into almost functional teenagers. I have much knowledge and wisdom. Even with make-up, if you need it.”

Keith hesitated. “Make-up?”

“For blemishes or, uh, sudden purple spots,” Lance offered. “I know how to conceal with the best of them.”

Keith laughed, short and wet. “I'll remember that.”

“See that you do,” Lance wagged a finger at Keith, before pausing. “But let's hope that you don't.” Lance stood, turning toward the door. “Now get showered! You smell like the inside of a locker room.” Lance paused, taking a cursory sniff at himself before covering his mouth. “Oh, crow, I smell like the inside of a locker room!”

The next morning, Lance walked into the bridge with Shiro at his side, prepared to see a whole bundle of Galra ships circling Taujeer.

“Uh.” Lance pointed at the main screen, where Taujeer was shown to be a planet covered almost entirely in acid. Reaching for his console, Lance pulled up the scans, looking for any Galra. “This is Taujeer?”

“Yes,” Allura replied, although she didn't sound much more certain than Lance felt. “I've pinpointed the distress beacon to one of the landmasses.”

“And the Galra?” Hunk asked, staring at the image of Taujeer.

“Our scans aren't picking up any Galra in this sector,” Coran answered. Lance stood, looking over at Shiro in confusion. He spotted Keith's chair, empty, and frowned.

“That can't be right.” Pidge hopped into their seat, pulling up the Galra scanner. “It – okay, now it's not reading any Galra here. But it did yesterday!”

“Maybe we missed them?” Hunk offered. “Like, that could be a thing, right? Is they came and they left?”

“The Galra do not usually leave a planet once they occupy it,” Allura replied, steering the Castle into orbit.

“Where's Keith?” Lance asked. “Coran, can you do a search of the Castle for Keith?”

“Already on it.” Coran tapped away at his console before pausing. “Well that's strange. It seems Keith isn't in the Castle at all.”

“What?” Lance sat in his chair, pulling up his console and running through the Castle scan. “Did he get impatient and take the Red Lion on ahead?”

“Nah, Red's still in her hanger.” Hunk shook his head. “Although last night he was acting pretty strange.”

“When isn't he acting strange, Hunk,” Pidge dryly replied.

“No but like, he was acting stranger that he usually does,” Hunk said. “He pushed us out of the room, remember?”

“Oh dear.” Coran looked over. “It seems one of the podships left the hangar sometime last night.”

“What?” Lance frowned. “Call the podship.”

“Can do!” Coran gestured, and a moment later Keith's voice came through the comms.

“I'm not sorry.”

“Okay first of all,” Lance began. “Rude. So rude.”

“I'm not going back,” Keith said. “Not when Zarkon's using me to find you.”

“Okay, see, second up, you're totally turning that podship around,” Lance argued, letting calm be his guide.

“Keith, I get that you think it's you, but, like, why?” Hunk looked from Pidge to Lance.

“I don't know, Hunk,” Lance sighed.

“It's a good idea,” Pidge offered. “Isolate the variables. If Zarkon goes after Keith, then he's tracking Keith. If he comes here, then it's the Black Lion.”

Lance glanced at Allura, who frowned at that, but nodded. He grinned in triumph, glad that she dropped the idea that it was her Zarkon was tracking.

“Okay, that's a stupid idea,” Lance countered. “Keith, now isn't the time to play experiment. Turn the pod around.”

“No,” Keith answered petulantly.

“Keith, come back here,” Shiro ordered.

“I'm not coming back,” Keith replied.

“We don't have time for this,” Lance muttered. “Allura, is the distress beacon still going strong?”

“It is,” Allura answered.

“Coran, can you track Keith's podship?” Lance asked.

“No!” Keith squawked.

“Found him!” Coran cried. “The podship is five systems away. It would take ten vargas to travel there and back.”

Lance groaned. “Alright, so we'll leave the distress beacon for now, get Keith, and then come back.”

“Uh, guys?” Hunk pointed at the image of Taujeer. “I don't think we have the time. There's less land than when we arrived.”

“What?” Lance turned to look at the continent. Sure enough, it looked smaller than before. “Oh, quiznack! Keith, turn around. We'll help the Taujeer distress beacon and then come pick your podship up.”

“What?” Keith groaned. “What's happening? Guys?”

“We'll talk later.” Lance stood. “Suit up, everyone. We're saving lives.”

“It is blessed that the Voltron of legend has arrived to help,” the lead Taujeerian said. As aliens went, Lance figured the Taujeerians were a simple sort, looking like those little microscopic creatures health class always warned about. Except the Taujeerians were almost six feet tall, and their – Lance wanted to say mouths, but they seemed too much like eye stalks – eye stalks didn't have rows of sharp teeth. “But I... thought there were five of you?”

Lance's grin became tight. “There are. Lately we've had the Galra target the Castle of Lions – the big ship we've got in orbit, our home base – and figured it's a bit sneakier to keep one Lion back with the Castle to protect it.”

“Ah.” The Taujeerian seemed to accept that. “Our ark was damaged by the Galra. It is our home now, as the planet begins a new phase of existence.”

“The Galra hurt your home?” Hunk stepped forward. “Don't worry, I've got this.”

“He really does,” Lance assured the Taujeerian. “That's Hunk. He's our best mechanic. He'll fix up your ark real fast.”

“Thank you,” the Taujeerian said again. “Please, save our home.”

“We will,” Lance promised.

“Pidge I take back everything bad I said about your Galra scanner.” Lance dodged a blast from the Galra ship. “Also, Coran, tell me that Keith is on the way.”

“And you doubted the power of my Galra scanner,” Pidge smugly replied. “Who's laughing now, Lance?”

“The Galra!” Hunk growled, where Yellow was holding the Taujeer ark from falling into the acid. “The Galra are laughing, Pidge!”

“Less talking, more land saving,” Lance ordered, forming Black's mouthblade and rushing close to slash at the laser canons. “Coran! Talk to me!”

“Coran is– occupied at the moment,” Allura replied, sounding irritated. “However, Keith is still three systems away. And– oh, it seems the Red Lion has left the hangar. Coran?”

“It wasn't me, Princess,” Coran replied. “I tried to be the Paladin but the Red Lion left without me!”

“What?” Allura cried. “Where is it going?”

“Probably to Keith,” Lance grumbled, drawing the Galra's fire away from Pidge, Shiro, and Hunk.

“Dude!” Hunk cried. “I got a Lion upgrade!”

“That's awesome, buddy!” Lance called out. “Is it helping you protect the Ark?”

“They're mega claws and extra armor so, definitely,” Hunk answered, gleeful. “We're saving the Taujeerian land!”

“Our patches aren't holding,” Shiro stated, and Lance grimaced.

“Alright, Pidge, stop and come help me take out this ship,” Lance glanced out at Blue. “Shiro, see if you can freeze that acid.” He paused. “Maybe do a test shot away from Hunk and the ark first?”

“On it!” Shiro said.

“I'm with you, Boss!” Pidge cried, coming from below to slam into the Galra ship. Atop the ship, the ion cannon shifted, taking aim.

“Oh no you don't,” Lance muttered. He fired at it with Black's tail laser, only to have his shots bounce off of the particle barrier.

“Guys, I'm here!” Keith flew down in Red, firing a heat blast in the middle of the Galra ship.

“It's about time,” Lance groused. “You're with me. Pidge, swap out with Shiro. Do whatever Hunk says needs done to get that Ark in the air.”

Lance watched as the Galra ship exploded into two. And grinned.

Finally, a mission gone right.

Lance walked up to the bridge, feeling giddy. The mission was a success, through and through. They'd saved the Taujeerians, and had defeated the Galra fleet ship without having to form Voltron!

But...

Lance's grin faded.

The Galra had returned to Taujeer. They'd returned and specifically went after Voltron.

And Red. Allura had said that it wasn't possible, but Keith had been several systems away, and he'd used his bond with Red to call her to him.

Stepping into the bridge, Lance spotted Keith wilting under Shiro's stern glare.

“Alright, that's enough.” Lance walked over, patting Shiro on the back. “Keith's been through enough. Plus, he confirmed something for us today.”

Lance pointedly looked at Allura, and she winced.

“I am sorry,” Allura said. “But going by the records, such a thing is unprecedented. Even back then, we had no way of knowing that the bond could be so strong.”

“Still,” Shiro said, looking from Allura to Lance. “Now we know how Zarkon is tracking us.”

“The Black Lion,” Lance breathed. “Which means I'll have to spend all my free time now down in Black, forming a stronger bond than she has with Zarkon.”

Lance wondered if that was possible. He wondered if he was cheating the other Lance out of bonding with Black.

He wondered if all that worrying about the other Lance even mattered.

“Yeah, okay, that's good.” Hunk nodded, turning toward Keith. “And you! What were you thinking? What made you think running away was a good idea?”

“I just–” Keith shrank more. “I figured if it was me, then... I didn't want to see you get hurt.”

Hunk's glare softened, and he reached out. “Aw, come here. Let's hug this out.”

Lance watched Hunk spread his arms wide. He saw Keith hesitate, before standing and stepping to press up against Hunk.

“Oh, we're hugging now?” Pidge walked over, hugging Keith from behind. “I don't know why we're hugging, but you're a dummy for thinking that you could ever hurt us.”

“Pidge is right,” Hunk added, arms wrapping around both Keith and Pidge. “You're a great softy under all that awkward nerdy outside.”

“I am not,” Keith protested, melting into the hugs.

“Come on.” Shiro budged at Lance. “Let's get some rest. You'll need all your energy to bond with Black. Especially if you want to bond deep enough to break her bond with Zarkon.”

Lance snorted. “It's lion bonding. I've done it before. It's not like I'm going to challenge Zarkon to a fistfight in a Denny's parking lot at three in the morning.”

Chapter Text

Lance stretched as the doors to the training room opened. Light shone on the blue armor as he stepped into the room.

“Start training sequence,” Lance called out, “level one.”

The gladiator dropped down, staff in hand. Lance rushed at it, meeting it halfway.

So many things sat in his mind, so many issues and questions that he couldn't answer, couldn't solve.

Keith had been comforted, and when he looked less like a sobbing mess, Lance had gently led Keith toward Pidge with clear directions to watch Star Wars. Either the whole movie or all of the original trilogy, Lance didn't care; Keith just had to watch it until he felt better.

“Be the Luke Skywalker we both know you are,” Lance had advised. “Now I'm going to go beat up a training bot so I can feel better about myself.”

Keith's new found heritage was... strange, to say the least. Topmost on the list of questions was who Keith's mother was, and why she was on Earth. Lance figured that if the Galra had known about Earth long before the Kerberos mission, then why, exactly, hadn't they invaded years ago? Why wait until now? If she really was a part of the Blade of Marmora, then why go to Earth at all, why would she even leave a clue behind for Keith to find her?

It was a bundle of questions that Lance figured he wouldn't get the answer to, but wanted answers anyway.

Lance dodged the staff, running in close. Striking the gladiator's arm, Lance knocked the staff away. He kicked at the gladiator's legs, sending it sprawling. The floor opened up, the gladiator and its staff vanishing.

And then there was Zarkon. The former Black Paladin, the one who was using his bond with Black to track them. Lance figured, Lance hoped, that it wasn't the same in his universe. If it were, Lance wasn't sure if the other Lance, the Blue Paladin Lance, could bond with Black enough to break Zarkon's hold over her. All he could do was have faith that it was enough, that the other Lance was enough.

He had to have faith that this Shiro was enough.

“Start training sequence,” Lance said, “level two.”

The gladiator dropped, a short baton in each hand.

And there was that switchback to consider. Lance hadn't thought about it before, but he wondered what it was that had caused it. Was it his own Black, calling out to him? Why didn't he return fully, why only for a brief moment?

Lance ducked the gladiator's attack, falling back so he could use his legs to block. He was knocked away, but Lance grinned. Rolling to his feet, Lance stood his ground, letting the gladiator rush him. Pulling up his shield, Lance blocked the first swing, tilting the shield so the baton could slide up along it. The second swing, with the other baton, caught the inside of the shield. Lance reached out, grabbing the baton on the inside of the shield and yanking. It held steady, and Lance roared, slamming edge of the shield on the gladiator's arm. The hold on the baton loosened, and Lance pulled it away.

The gladiator pulled away, the remaining baton at the ready to strike. Raising the baton high, Lance brought it down as hard as he could on the gladiator's head. The gladiator collapsed, and Lance dropped the baton, letting it fall away with the gladiator bot.

“Quiznack,” Lance muttered. “This isn't helping.”

He'd hoped that training would clear his mind, but all it did was organize his thoughts.

“You're good.”

Lance started, turning to see Shiro standing at the door.

“Uh.” Lance looked at Shiro in surprise. He disabled his shield. “Thank you? I, uh, practiced. A lot.” He shrugged, offering a wan smile. “Didn't have a bayard of my own, so...”

“Well you have one now.” Shiro stepped into the room. “Is there a reason you're here?”

Lance shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind. I figured that beating up the gladiator bot would clear my head. Sadly, it didn't work. I now have even more on my mind, and without the pleasure of a distraction to keep me from thinking about any of it.”

Lance winced, realizing how stilted the conversation felt. He hadn't exactly talked with this Shiro one-on-one since the mission with Ulaz. He didn't know what he could talk about with this Shiro, what sort of relationship they had. Everything he could think of, he would have to explain how he knew it.

“Do you,” Lance began, awkwardly waving at the room. “Did I interrupt some evening training?”

“Not exactly,” Shiro replied. He sighed. “Lance, it's getting late.”

“I'm aware,” Lance replied, putting a hand on his hip. “Did you come to enforce bedtime?”

“I...” Shiro hesitated. “Maybe I did.”

Lance stared at Shiro. The awkward wasn't just on his side, it seemed.

“Hey, I'm sorry,” Lance said, and grimaced. “About earlier, I mean. You're the leader here, and I kind of highjacked your leadership. I shouldn't have done that.”

“No you shouldn't have,” Shiro dryly replied. He looked around the room. “Have you gotten used to fighting with your bayard yet?”

Lance's grimace deepened. “Not... exactly?”

Shiro sighed. “Lance.”

“Hey, I don't want to get used to it!” Lance defended himself. “I won't be here forever. I shouldn't have to get used to using a bayard when I won't have one when I return to my universe.”

“Oh,” Shiro groaned. “You're still on about that?” Shiro shook his head. “Lance, I don't know if it's possible to send you back or whatever's happening here.”

Lance blinked. “Okay, but, you are going to try.”

“Zarkon's out there,” Shiro said, crossing his arms. “I'm sorry, but your problem's not a top priority right now. I don't know that we can do anything until we stop Zarkon.”

“Shiro, I can't stay here forever,” Lance protested. “I have my own team to get back to. They might be– no, I know they're going through exactly what we're going through right now. I know you're going to be spending a lot of time down with Black deepening your bond, but I should be back in my universe doing the same thing. I know your Lance is capable of piloting Black, because we're the same person, but I'm taking a huge leap of faith here. Right now he could be deepening a bond with Black that I should be doing myself. Right now I should be with my team, but I'm not. All I have to go on is that they encountered Zarkon outside the space storm at the same time we did. I don't know if they made it away safely like we did or if they got captured or worse. I don't know, Shiro, and it terrifies me.”

“Lance.” Shiro placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, and he took hold of it. Lance used it to steady himself, used Shiro to ground himself. “It's alright.”

Lance wanted so desperately to believe Shiro. He wanted to hug Shiro, wanted to pull him close and find himself in Shiro.

He stepped away, hurriedly turning toward the door. “I should go.”

“Lance wait.” Lance nearly ran to the door, leaving Shiro alone. He couldn't do this, couldn't be around Shiro like this. He needed a mission, needed something else, something more. This wasn't his Shiro, and if he stayed alone around Shiro for too long, strayed too close, he knew he would react in the wrong way. Lance would start to treat this Shiro like his Shiro.

Lance went on walkabout, wandering into Hunk.

“Whoa!” Hunk grabbed hold of Lance, looking him over. “Dude, are you alright?”

“I–” Lance looked away. “No. Not really.”

Hunk pulled him into a hug, and Lance melted against his best friend.

“Talk to me,” Hunk murmured. “Look at my gentle self and unload all your problems.”

Lance peered up at Hunk, giving him a soft glare. “Okay first of all, I'm not just going to talk about my stuff. Second of all, I wanted to talk to Allura. She's the best person here to talk about the wormhole that send me here.”

“Lance!” Lance stiffened, pulling closer to Hunk. He listened as Shiro rounded the corner. “Lance, wait!”

“Shiro!” Hunk cheerfully greeted, arms tightening around Lance. “Why are you looking for Lance?”

“He ran off,” Shiro explained, and Lance curled up against Hunk's chest. “I wanted to make sure he was okay.” A pause, then, “Lance, you are alright, aren't you?”

Lance pulled himself away from Hunk, regaining his composure. Hunk was a solid presence, grounding in a way that Shiro wasn't. Straightening up, Lance turned to give Shiro his most disarming smile. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just figured you wanted to do some one on one training time with the gladiator bot. Don't worry, I'm not going to cut into your training time.”

“I'm not worried about that.” Shiro looked concerned. More concerned than Lance figured he had any right to be.

“Seriously, I'm fine,” Lance sighed, waving at Shiro. “Just... go on and do whatever it is that you wanted to do.”

Shiro looked like he wanted to say something more, but nodded. He shared a glance with Hunk, and nodded again. Lance watched Shiro go, appreciating the view. This might not have been his Shiro, but that didn't mean that Lance couldn't take in the view every once in a while. Once Shiro rounded the corner, Hunk gave Lance an elbow nudge and a pointed look.

“So,” Hunk began, slyly smiling. He slung an arm over Lance's shoulder, wheeling the two of them around. “What happened?”

“I just...” Lance squirmed, thankful for the contact, thankful for Hunk. “I don't know. I don't know how to act around him. Like, this isn't the Shiro I know, even though they're the same person, and I just – there's a lot I know about him that he doesn't know I know, and I – I don't know, Hunk.”

That wasn't true. Lance knew, he knew exactly what it was. He had worked hard to get so close to Shiro, and didn't want to run into the walls he'd so carefully gotten his own Shiro to take down.

“Well, let's get some food goo in you,” Hunk said. “Victory food goo. For our victory.”

“That's an idea,” Lance agreed. “Also, I heard you got a lion upgrade? What's up with that?”

“Yeah!” Hunk nodded, pulling Lance close. “Yellow got mega claws. Some extra armor too, but it's all toward the mega claws!”

Lance nodded along, smiling. This was familiar, this was territory he knew how to traverse. This was a place he wanted to be.

The food goo tasted like it always did, but Lance enjoyed it anyway. He avoided going to bed, wandering the Castle. He popped into Pidge's room after seeing Hunk off to bed, and grinned at Keith and Pidge, leaning against each other and fast asleep. Lance stepped inside, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of them. Keith stirred, curling under the blanket, and Lance smiled.

“Sleep tight,” Lance whispered, reaching out to brush at Keith's hair, and pull Pidge's glasses off. He set them aside, and nodded, satisfied.

Stepping out, Lance nearly ran into Shiro.

“Lance?” Shiro raised an eyebrow, and tried to peer into Pidge's room. “What were you doing in Pidge's room?”

“I was tucking them and Keith in for the night,” Lance replied, frowning when Shiro caught sight of Keith and Pidge and his eyebrows flew up. “What did you think I was doing?”

Shiro shrugged. “I figured you were bothering Pidge over something.”

Lance stared, a cold feeling settling over his gut. “Shiro, why would you think–”

“Ah! There you are, Lance.” Both teens turned to see Allura striding toward them. Lance shared a surprised look with Shiro, baffled about why Allura was looking for him. She reached out, gesturing for him to follow along as she walked past, toward–

“Okay, Princess, I'm flattered, but I really...” Lance trailed off, awkwardly looking from Shiro to Allura, who had stopped outside his bedroom.

“Oh!” Allura exclaimed, getting a gleam in her eye. “Have I come at a wrong time?”

“No!” Lance yelped, dashing over to Allura. “Nope! I'm free to talk or– or whatever you came to me for.”

Lance spared a panicked look from Allura to Shiro, who was staring at Lance like he didn't know what to even think, before nearly shoving Allura into his room.

“Allura,” Lance greeted, the door sliding shut behind him. “What brings you to this room?”

“Firstly, I wanted to apologize if I seemed to be preoccupied the other evening.” Allura glanced around the room, looking at the bed suspiciously before tapping at a panel on the wall. Lance stared, his jaw dropping, as a table and chair slid out of the wall.

“What?” Lance pointed at the table. “What the quiznack? Has that always been there? Has that always been a thing? Why didn't I know that was a thing?”

“Lance.” Allura cut through his babbling, gesturing at the free chair. “Please, sit.”

“Why didn't you pull this out the other day if you knew it was there?” Lance wondered aloud, before wincing. “Also, you shouldn't feel like you have to apologize. At least, not for that. I expect an apology for running off like you did.”

“I am sorry for that as well,” Allura calmly answered, staring at Lance expectantly. He slid into the free seat. “But I wanted to let you know that I have talked with Coran, as you suggested, and–”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lance held up a hand, groaning. “You're planning out how to get me and Shiro together, aren't you.”

Allura flushed. “Perhaps,” she said at length. “But primarily I wanted to remind you that I will be seeking a means to return you to your native universe. It is a very high priority.”

Lance thought back to earlier, to Shiro's words.

“Not that high of a priority,” he mumbled, wishing that they had coffee or tea.

“What was that?” Allura leaned forward, reaching out for Lance. “Lance. It is a top priority. Tomorrow we will reach the swap moon, and once we have the scaultrite lenses replaced, I will direct as much of our time and resources as we can spare toward getting you to your home and getting our Lance back.”

“And what about Zarkon?” Lance asked, wringing his hands together. “We can't ignore him. Shiro wants to focus on him before getting me back to my universe.”

“He does?” Allura straightened up. “While we will still operate and respond to distress signals, our secondary priority is getting you home, Lance. I will have to remind him of that.”

“Allura, don't.” Lance shook his head. “He's just going to think I turned to you and then he'll– I don't know. He's been jumping all over me for the smallest stuff. I don't think– I think he doesn't like me.” Lance glanced at Allura, beseeching. “Allura, I have to know. Did I do something wrong? Am I– is there something I'm not doing, that your Lance usually does, to make Shiro act this way?”

“Oh, Lance, no.” Allura reached out, taking Lance's hands in hers. “You've done nothing wrong. In fact, I believe you've been managing this situation rather well. It's merely that you react differently than we are used to. Shiro has come to expect certain behaviors from you– our Lance, I mean – and you are much more... serious than any of us are used to.”

“And there's that thing with Keith,” Lance added, pulling his hands away to gestured wildly. “Shiro keeps looking at me like I'm about to start a fight with Keith every time I go near the guy!”

“Well,” Allura began, and Lance gaped.

“Seriously?” Lance groaned, slumping back in his seat. “I knew the other me was still on about the rivalry but I didn't think I was still picking fights with him!” He blinked, tilting his head to look at Allura. “Actually, this explains so much about Keith's reaction to me a couple days ago.”

“In any event, we all have been adjusting as well as could be expected,” Allura cut in. One of the mice – Platt, Lance recognized – scurried out of the air vent, squeaking at Allura anxiously. She listened to it intently, straightening up. “Oh dear. Lance, I'm afraid I must cut this conversation short. It appears Hunk has discovered–”

“Say no more.” Lance stood. “I can go with you. Help talk Hunk into putting back whatever he found.”

“No.” Allura reached out, stopping Lance. “I can handle this myself. You should get some rest. It's been a long day for us all.”

“It's been a long week,” Lance grumbled. Louder, he amended, “It's been a long spicolian movement.”

Allura nodded, quickly leaving the room. Lance glanced down at Platt, who leaned forward curiously.

“I got nothing right now,” Lance told Platt, wagging a finger at the space mouse. “But visit me tomorrow, and I'll share my breakfast.”

Platt squeaked, seemingly satisfied, and scurried back up the wall, vanishing into the air vent. Lance watched him go, before starting to take off his armor.

He wasn't looking forward to spending the night alone, but if he had to, then he could survive.

“That's the swap moon?” Lance stared up at the screen, looking at an installation that seemed more mechanical than an actual moon.

“That's no moon,” Pidge and Keith ominously, simultaneously said. They grinned, high-fiving each other, and Lance snorted. Shiro watched them, amusement curling the edges of his lips.

“It's an Unilu swap moon!” Coran joyfully declared. “Cultures from all corners of the known universe gather to these places with all sorts of items to sell. I remember going with King Alfor to one several times. Anything and everything can be found and bought at a swap moon, so we need to be careful.”

Shiro nodded. “Well, I'll be staying here at the Castle. I need to bond with Black, and I could use a break from all the action.”

“Then Allura can keep you company.” Coran nodded matter-of-factly.

“Coran!” Allura exclaimed. “I was interested in going to the swap moon.”

“Nonsense!” Coran crossed his arms. “A swap moon is the most dangerous place you could ever go! We'll need to be on alert so none of us get accidentally kidnapped. Can you imagine if you were lured away? Why, I could never face your father in woblay!”

“Ohhh~!” Hunk murmured, nodding. “So woblay is, like, Altean afterlife. Neat, neat.”

“Then what will I do here?” Allura asked, looking put out. “The Castle's library is largely driven toward a number of languages and cultures that I already am aware of, and I do not enjoy the prospect of reading instruction manuals of how to build and maintain the Castle.”

“Wait.” Pidge squinted at Coran and Allura. “There's a library? Like, a full on library, with picture books and everything?”

“It's a Castle,” Allura replied, looking scandalized. “Do Earthlings not have libraries in their castles?”

“We have libraries,” Hunk answered.

“And we have castles,” Shiro added.

“Maybe not both of them at the same time anymore, but that's not important.” Pidge nudged their glasses, the light glinting off of them. “Does the library have picture books? This is important.”

“It does,” Allura replied, sharing a concerned, bemused look with Coran.

“Yes!” Pidge pumped their fist. “Coran, you're awesome, and I'm really glad you taught me the Altean alphabet, but now I can master Altean a lot faster.” Pidge grinned, vicious. “Soon, I will be able to read everything without having to use a translator!”

Hunk pursed his lips. “So, you don't have any games?”

Allura blinked. “Games? Like aggorhan?”

“I have absolutely no idea what that is,” Hunk said. “But I'm talking about stuff like charades and eye spy. You know, road trip games.” Hunk glanced at the space mice, perched on the back on the nearest chair. “In fact, you could play them with the space mice.”

“I don't understand the earthling fascination in adding the space descriptor to everything, but anything is better than aggorhan.” Allura looked interested. “Besides, aggorhan requires far more people than we have to properly set the competitive tournament.”

Lance stared at Allura as Coran nodded along. “I have so many questions.”

“Not yet, Lance,” Hunk said, swatting at him. “Let me teach Allura and the space mice about charades.”

“Only if I get to talk about all the sleepover stuff I know,” Lance agreed. “I'm saving all my aggravan–”

“Aggorhan,” Coran corrected.

“Aggorhan questions for the ride to the swap moon,” Lance finished. “I want to teach Allura about hair braiding. She's the only one here that I could really do something with.” Lance paused. “Well, there is Keith and Pidge, but I'm pretty sure they'd team up to slaughter me if I so much as looked at their hair.”

“You're not touching my hair,” Keith called out.

“Wasn't planning on it, Skywalker,” Lance replied, waving a hand in Keith's general direction. He focused on the space mice. “So. Did you want to learn the finer points of hair styling?”

The space mice shared a look, before lining up and saluting. Lance grinned.

“...and that's how you use the ragglefloe to score the winning goal!” Coran concluded as they pulled into the docking bay of the swap moon. Lance smiled from his seat beside Coran, turning to look at the others.

“I came into this with questions and left with even less understanding than I had going in,” Pidge muttered.

“Is he done yet?” Keith grumbled under his breath, Hunk reaching over to hurriedly shush him.

“Don't!” Hunk hissed. “Just smile and nod, Keith. Smile and nod like you understood.”

“Alright kids,” Lance called back, biting back his snickering. “We're here. Stick close, keep in sight of each other at all times, and if you need to use the bathroom, let me or Coran know and don't go anywhere alone.”

“Remember, be on alert!” Coran turned to look at the others. “The swap moon is a lawless place, so anything could happen. For now, I've got disguises!”

“That's what's in the box?” Pidge asked, eying the box beside Keith warily. Keith shifted, putting some more distance between himself and the box. “I figured it was some junk we were going to sell.”

“It's disguises,” Coran repeated, wagging a finger. “Timeless space pirate clothes. We're going to have to go out in disguise. That way nobody recognizes us.”

“You mean us.” Keith gestured at everyone but Coran.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure nobody knows who you are,” Hunk admitted. He offered Coran a plaintive smile. “Sorry.”

Coran harrumphed. “It's been ten kilopheebs but I did leave a couple swap moons with bounties from space pirates. Those bounties stick forever, and they only get more expensive the longer you're not taken in.” Coran grinned. “Why, I wager I have the highest bounty out of the lot of us.”

Coran popped open the box, putting on an eyepatch and styling his hair. Lance peered into the box, snagging a pair of goggles and situating them on his head. He pulled out a pair of wire spectacles, sliding them on the edge of his nose and grinning.

Pidge leaned over to Hunk, whispering, “Five GAC Coran's old bounty is, like, half a GAC.”

“Twenty GAC it's one,” Hunk replied under his breath. Pidge nodded, holding out their hand.

“Deal.”

Lance stared at the atrium, taking it all in. If he listened closely, Lance was sure he could hear the faint technosynth he was sure was old musak.

“A mall,” Pidge said, looking around the place. They pulled off their mask, staring around in disbelief. “A mall.”

“Space mall,” Lance whispered. “It's totally a space mall.”

“I'm dumping all this.” Hunk removed his own mask, walking over to the nearest trash bin and tossing it inside. He started taking off all the layers of his disguise, to Coran's choked off screeching. “I am not window shopping a space mall dressed like someone from a post-apocalyptic disaster movie.”

“Seconded.” Pidge put their glasses back on, dropping all of their armor and layers of extra clothes. “Let me look like my normal self.”

Lance nodded, removing his disguise. He raised an eyebrow at Keith. “Well, are you going to stick with the glasses and shoulders?”

Keith hesitated. “...can I keep the glasses?”

“You probably shouldn't wear them here, but yeah,” Lance nodded. “You're totally free to hang onto them. I know I'm keeping the ones I picked out.” Lance pocketed the wire frame glasses. He smiled. “Now come along, Skywalker. Let's go window shopping.”

“Now let's remember to meet back here in two vargas.” Coran looked around at the mall. “And stick together! I'm alright to go on my own because I've been to a swap moon before, but you lot are young, so listen to Lance.”

Lance covered his mouth, hold back his laughter.

“Don't worry about us, Coran,” Pidge replied, barely listening. “Go find your lenses. We'll be fine.”

Coran nodded, hopping down the escalator two steps at a time, and Lance watched him go with amusement, before turning to the others.

“So,” he said. “Space mall.”

“I'm going to find the food court,” Hunk declared, determination on his face. “space mall has to have space franchises and good space food. No more food goo. I want culinary diversity, my palette has been desperate for something more.”

“That's a plan.” Lance nodded. “Keith, Pidge? How about you?”

“Tech store,” Pidge said, nodding to themselves. “I want to find a tech store. Space RadioShack has to exist, and I will find it.”

“I'll be on my own,” Keith said, going toward the escalators. “Maybe find a good place that sells maps or something.”

“Alright.” Lance started walking alongside Pidge, keeping his strides short so he wouldn't outpace them. “I'll tag along with you, Pidge. Space RadioShack could have space phones, and E.T. wants to phone home.”

“Lance, you're hardly an E.T.,” Pidge commented, peering at all the storefronts.

“Excuse you, we are all E.T.,” Lance retorted. He gestured at the space mall. “Literally everyone here is E.T.” Lance squinted. “Name one person here that isn't an E.T.”

“You and me,” Pidge blandly stated. “E.T. means extraterrestrial, as in 'not of Earth'. And we're both of Earth. Therefore, we're not E.T.”

“It means 'not of this earth',” Lance corrected. “And we're not on any earth or earth-like planet. We're on a moon. Therefore, we are all E.T.” He paused. “E.L., even. Extralunar. Not of this moon.”

Pidge made a face. “That is awful. Your logic is sound, but it's awful.” Pidge peered around Lance, and they gasped. “Wait! Wait is that–”

Lance yelped as Pidge darted around him, running ahead. “Hey wait up!”

Pidge, for all that they were smaller than Lance, was somehow so much faster. He caught up, using every bit of his long legs to keep pace with them.

“What's caught your attention?” Lance gasped, skidding with Pidge to a stop before– “A st– wait, this is Earth stuff.”

Lance stared at the shop, stared at the old – really old, Lance dated some of the stuff as somewhere in the late 1900s, from old pictures of his great-grandma as a child – clothes and old, well, everything. Even the technology looked old. He squinted at a huge block. “Is that a cell phone?”

“Hello!”

Lance yelped, while Pidge climbed over him, holding onto his shoulders as he came face to face with the store owner. They were a bland gray with large eyes in a larger head, wearing parachute pants, a sparkly yellow shirt, and a ballcap that had the letter 51 on it.

“Uh,” Lance said. “Hi.”

“How much for the console,” Pidge demanded from over Lance's shoulder. “The Killbot Phantasm 1 exclusive console.”

“Oh, that thing?” The alien gestured at the consoles. “They're twelve thousand GAC. You interested in buying something? I don't get many customers. You get a free Kaltenecker with every purchase!”

The alien gestured inside the store, and Lance stared as the cow inside mooed.

“You mean the cow?” Lance turned back to the alien.

“The Kaltenecker,” the alien repeated. “Free with purchase.”

“Well, da–”

“Language!” Lance hissed, covering Pidge's mouth. He turned toward the alien. “Ah, we're window shopping at the moment. But don't worry! When it comes time to make our purchases, we're definitely stopping by here.”

“Lance.” Pidge crawled off of Lance's back, glaring up at him and looking back at the Killbot Phantasm 1 display they were leaving behind. “Lance I need that game. I need it so much.”

“Don't worry,” Lance said, wrapping an arm around Pidge as he scanned the mall. He spotted someone standing before the fountain, flicking something into it. “We're totally going to get you that game.” He turned to look at Pidge. “How deep are your pockets? Also how are you about walking around barefoot?”

Lance looked back at the fountain, Pidge following his gaze. In the water, dozens upon dozens of GAC glinted.

“I would brave the arctic circle wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts for that game,” Pidge answered. “Dirty fountain water means nothing to me if it means I can get Killbot Phantasm 1.”

“So how much do we have?” Lance asked, snatching the last GAC from the fifth fountain they raided. His pockets were full to bursting. “This is a 10 GAC coin, by the way.”

“That's...” Pidge paused, doing the math in their head. “I think we're about there. One more 10 GAC coin should do it.”

“Awesome!” Lance looked around for the glint of a GAC, but nothing shone out of the water.

“Lance!” Pidge drew his attention, pointing behind him. “There! Go!”

Lance spun on his heel, leaping toward the coin someone was flicking out into the fountain. Like a majestic dolphin, Lance emerged above the fountain, catching the GAC between his teeth. He turned to grin at Pidge, the GAC still in his mouth, and–

Reality shuddered, becoming a deep purple expanse. Lance landed on the ground, or what he thought was the ground. It was a reflective surface, and he could see himself in it. Himself, but also not. There were bruises forming on the other Lance that he knew couldn't be there.

Lance gasped, reaching out, and he turned when someone landed beside him.

“Shiro?” Lance winced when he felt pain on his face, across his chest. He glanced down, and his pockets weren't full to bursting with GAC anymore. Focusing on Shiro, Lance reached out. “Shiro, what's happening?”

“Lance?” Shiro got to his feet, and Lance noticed movement behind Shiro.

Zarkon was there.

“Oh, quiznack,” Lance murmured. “Shiro we need to move.”

“I know.” Shiro wasn't looking at Lance, was looking behind him. “Zarkon's here.”

“What?” Lance turned to see Zarkon – another Zarkon, if that were possible. “Something's wrong. I think I'm back in my body. Why am I back in my body? And why are you here?”

“I don't know.” Shiro grabbed Lance, starting to move backward. “But we need to move.”

“Not that way.” Lance pulled Shiro to the side. “There's two of Zarkon.”

“What?” Shiro turned to see the second Zarkon approaching. “What's happening?”

“No idea,” Lance replied. “But how about I go one way, you go the other, and then we each take on whichever Zarkon follows us.”

“Lance no!” Shiro gripped Lance's arm, stopping him from leaving. “Zarkon's too powerful. You'll get hurt.”

“I can hold my own,” Lance said, wrenching his arm free. “And one of those Zarkons is from my universe. We're both the black paladin, so trust me when I say that I can fight.”

Lance ran, and the Zarkon that was behind Shiro leapt into the air.

“Foolish creature,” he snarled, slamming into Lance. “You play at being a Paladin like you understand what it means.”

Lance shoved at Zarkon, peering over at Shiro, and the world shifted as Lance was slammed down onto the ground. He saw his reflection again, without the injuries, and in the blink of an eye he was looking back at himself.

“No!” Lance cried, reaching out for the other Lance, reaching out for himself, and–

He was in the Space Mall again, several yards away from the fountain. Pidge ran over, carrying his jacket and shoes.

“Lance!” Pidge took hold of him, looking at him closely. “Which Lance am I speaking to?”

“What?” Lance blinked. “What does that mean?”

“The leader Lance,” Pidge breathed, nodding to themselves. “Alright. So you vanished. Like, full on vanished, and then you reappeared a couple feet away, except it was my Lance. I had to stop him from freaking out, and then he vanished again and now there's you.”

“Me,” Lance breathed. “I was – I don't know where. Shiro was there, and so was–”

Lance cut himself off, looking around frantically.

“Not here,” Pidge said. “Back at the ship.”

“Back at the ship,” Lance agreed, breathing heavily. His pockets jangled with the GAC, and he smiled. “Let's go get your game, and then when we meet up with everyone we can share everything.”

Lance grumbled, poking at the bruise on his face. They were back in the ship, and Lance had given Pidge a pointed look while the others talked about their adventures in the space mall.

“And that's when I ran into Keith,” Hunk finished. “What about you guys?”

“I got Killbot Phantasm 1,” Pidge smugly declared. “Also Lance did a freaky thing when we were robbing the space mall fountain.”

“You robbed a fountain?” Hunk groaned. “Dude.”

“Hey, I pulled a vanishing act into another plane of existence,” Lance said, turning to look at Hunk. “I met Shiro and saw myself. I think your Lance was getting into a fistfight with Zarkon there.” He shrugged. “Shiro definitely was.”

“What?” Hunk and Keith looked at each other, before rounding on Lance. “What happened? Tell us everything!”

“Well, he vanished, and then I spotted Lance a couple feet from the fountain,” Pidge explained. “Our Lance, back in his body. He was freaking out, talking about an astral plane or something, and I barely was able to stop him from talking about all of it. He did mention seeing Shiro, too, which is strange.”

“Well, I was there in that – what, astral plane,” Lance continued. “I met Shiro, and there were two of Zarkon.”

“Oh no,” Hunk groaned. “One was bad enough, now there's two?”

“One was from my universe,” Lance explained. “The other is from this universe. I got picked up and tossed around a bit by the Zarkon from my universe, and I saw your Lance and we – we swapped back. Again.”

Lance slumped back.

“What now?” Keith asked. “We're asking Shiro about this, right?”

“We're definitely talking to Shiro about this,” Lance agreed. “And Allura. If Shiro's fighting Zarkon in some astral plane, she'll want to know.”

“And maybe we can use this to figure out a way to switch you back to your universe,” Pidge added. “Permanently.”

“Well, the good news here is that I got us new scaultrite lenses,” Coran added, looking at Lance in concern. “So we can use the teludav again.”

“Awesome,” Lance smiled at Coran. “Now let's head back to the Castle. I feel exhausted, and the day isn't halfway done.” He paused. “We're halfway through the quintant.”

“I've picked up some things from you earthlings,” Coran chuckled. “Your day is what you earthlings call a quintant.”

Lance's smile widened. “That's right. I think a quintant runs a little differently, but you're right about that.” Lance chuckled. “We'll have you talking like an earthling yet.”

“And I'll have you talking like an Altean yet,” Coran replied.

“Did you really fight Zarkon?” Keith asked. Lance leaned to look at the back seats, where Keith was staring at Lance intently.

“What are you thinking, Skywalker?” Lance asked.

“Well,” Keith looked at Pidge. “This is the third time, right? Three is a pattern.”

“Third time what, Skywalker?” Lance pressed. “Words, Keith. Use them. Show your work and all that.”

“I just–” Keith groaned. “We came in contact with Zarkon, and the wormhole happened, and you came here. And then we came into contact with Zarkon again, and you said you swapped back.”

“I did.” Lance nodded. “And now, with Zarkon again. Except it was back in my universe, or – not in my universe? I don't know what or where that astral plane sits on the whole dimension thing, and I'd like to say that knowing that is above my pay grade but, unfortunately, it's not.” Lance groaned. “So you think it's Zarkon?”

“Well,” Keith shrugged. “What else do we have to go off of?”

“I hate to say it, but Keith's got a bit of a point,” Pidge added. “Zarkon's the only constant we know of so far that's swapped you back to your universe, and out of it.”

“Well, magic is real,” Lance said, looking at the scaultrite lenses. “So I guess it's possible that Zarkon's got the magic touch.” He shuddered. “And that is a phrase I never thought I would ever say.”

“Well, let's head back to the Castle,” Coran said, piloting the podship away from the space mall. “Allura can bring up what little we have on the corrupted wormhole and I can run more scans on you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lance leaned back into his seat. “Let's get me back to my universe.”

Chapter Text

This time, Lance woke up first.

He shifted, pulling his arms apart and away from Shiro. His legs were twined with Shiro's, and Lance decided to leave them be – he wasn't in any hurry to get up, not just yet, and wanted to wait for Shiro to be up before disturbing the bed. Lance reached up, tugging his sleep mask away so he could really look at Shiro.

Asleep, Shiro looked relaxed, looked younger than Lance could ever remember him being. Without all the tension holding him together, Shiro looked... young. He looked his age, the years and years his time in the arena had added melted away and leaving the young man to look like he should.

Lance wished he had more than memory, wished he had the newspaper clipping of the Kerberos crew he kept in his notebook to do a comparison, so he could better see the Shiro that he used to be.

But he didn't, and all he had to go on was how, now that Lance wasn't looking at a leader, wasn't looking at a warrior, Shiro really wasn't that much older than Lance. It was something he knew, a fact that Lance could recall and recite at the drop of a hat – Takashi Shirogane, the child prodigy, the genius pilot who graduated from the Galaxy Garrison in less than two years – but to really see it, to lay across from your hero and see how young they were, how human, how like yourself they were...

Shiro groaned, shifting as he woke. Lance smiled, just a little, when Shiro sleepily grinned at him.

“Watching me sleep?” Shiro asked, and Lance looked away.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his face growing hot with blush. “Our legs are wrapped together. This is the most untangled I could get without waking you up.”

“Is that so?” Shiro reached down, untangling Lance's legs from around his. He paused, tentatively running his hands along Lance's legs. “Did you sleep alright?”

Lance shivered at the sensation, face growing redder. He pulled away from Shiro's grip, rolling over so he could maintain what little modesty he had. He couldn't– he shouldn't–

“Do you miss him?” Lance asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Your Lance?”

Shiro sat up, reaching out for Lance. “Of course I do. But you're not his replacement. You never could be. There's a lot about you both that's the same but,” Shiro paused, shifting to sit beside Lance, “there's a lot that's not the same. You don't have the same memories that he does. There's missions I've gone on with him that aren't the same with you. There's– Lance, I miss him a lot. But I know that we're going to get you back to your– your team. And I– we're going to get our Lance back.”

Lance winced. He knew enough to read between the lines, at what Shiro wasn't saying. “What if... what if me bonding with Black means you don't get your Lance back? What if it means he doesn't come back?”

“It won't.” Shiro reached out, pulling Lance into a hug. Lance stiffened. “It won't.”

“How can you know that?” Lance asked, looking up at Shiro. “What if I can't bond with Black? Shiro, I'm just the Blue Paladin. I've been lucking my way through this, but I just can't–” Lance cut himself off with a groan. “I just... don't know if I can do this forever. Lead Voltron.”

Shiro hugged him tighter, one hand reaching up to cradle the back of Lance's neck. “You can do it, Lance. You've done it before. Even if it was you from a different universe, it was still you. You're the same person you've always been.”

“That's a lot of faith you have in me,” Lance wetly laughed. He didn't want to cry again, not like this, not from this. He didn't know why such faint praise was enough to undo him, didn't know why his stomach swooped and his whole chest warmed.

“It's a mark of the Blue Paladin,” Shiro murmured, curling around Lance. “Loyalty and faith. And I–” Shiro hesitated, his breath hitching, sending warm shivers all along Lance's scalp and down his back. “Lance, I– I trust you. So much.”

Lance sobbed, hands pulling at Shiro's shirt, scrabbling to wrap around him and hold him tight.

“I don't want to leave,” Lance whispered between sobs. “I want to stay here.”

Shiro stiffened. He shifted, his hands reaching lower and lower until he was cradling Lance. Shiro stood, holding Lance in his arms.

“Come on,” he said, moving toward the bathroom. “Let's get cleaned up and then get our minds straightened out. You always talk about how you look like a complete mess when you cry. Something about how the tears aren't good for your pores.”

Lance laughed, wet and thick.

“They really aren't,” he said, squirming in Shiro's grasp. “Now put me down. I can carry myself.”

Lance grunted, rolling with the gladiator's blow. He grabbed onto the baton, throwing all his weight into his fall, pulling the gladiator down with him. Kicking his feet out, he slid between the gladiator's legs, unbalancing it and sending it into a flip.

The gladiator hit the ground with Lance. He let go of the baton, wheezing, and grinned when the gladiator vanished. Looking over at Shiro, he called out, “How was that?”

“Congratulations,” Shiro replied, tapping his bayard against his crossed arms. “You finally beat level three.”

“Sweet.” Lance grinned. “And it only took me, what, a full varga?”

“Not that long,” Shiro chuckled. “But it is good that you finally beat it. Now you can work on improving your time before we start you on level four.”

“What?” Lance rolled over, flopping his leg out. “I'm kicking you. I'm kicking you so hard right now.”

“Wow,” Shiro flatly said from across the room. “I mean, ow.”

“Why do I like you again?” Lance asked, squinting at Shiro.

“No idea.” Shiro shrugged, walking over to help Lance to his feet. In one smooth motion, he took hold of Lance and lifted him upright.

“Ah.” Lance nodded, stumbling on his feet. He kept hold of Shiro's hand, using it to steady himself. “That's why.”

Shiro snorted. “All I am is eye candy to you.”

Lance squeaked, face going red. “That – you – no! No!”

Shiro grinned, reaching out to flick Lance on the nose. “I'm joshing you, Lance.”

“Doesn't feel like it,” Lance mumbled, his face a bright red. “Let's go get breakfast.”

“Breakfast sounds great,” Shiro agreed. He glanced at their hands, still clasped together. Lance gave Shiro a small smile, loosening his hold. He twined their fingers together, his smile becoming more hesitant. Shiro beamed, and Lance's smile became more steady, more sure. He squeezed Shiro's hand, just a bit.

Hand in hand, they left the training room.

“So I've been wondering,” Lance began, between bites of breakfast. He pointed his spoon at Shiro, the space mice leaning forward expectantly. “How did you find out you're the Blue Paladin?”

Shiro paused, eyebrows raising in surprise. Everyone stopped, looking at Lance in curiosity.

“Hey, that's actually a good question.” Hunk frowned. “How did you find out you're the Blue Paladin over in your universe?”

Lance paused. “I... knocked?”

“You knocked.” Pidge rolled their eyes. “Really? You walked up to the Blue Lion and you knocked on the particle barrier?”

“Well, Keith couldn't get through!” Lance growled. “So I walked up and said that maybe all you had to do was knock, and I did, and then Blue opened up for me.”

“That's strange,” Shiro commented, drawing Lance's attention. “Hunk pointed out that maybe my arm could open it.”

“So you knocked,” Lance mused.

“More like he put his hand on the barrier,” Hunk said, briefly reenacting the moment. “It was pretty cool. Scary in the moment, because there was a burst of light and I thought we were all going to die, but after the vision thing it was pretty cool.”

“Sounds like you, Hunk.” Lance grinned, taking a spoonful of goo – egg-flavored this time, Hunk was a scary genius with food – and holding it out for the space mice to munch on. “Still, that's... really weird.” Lance frowned. “But, like, does that mean that the Shiro from my universe is supposed to be the Blue Paladin? What makes you and me so different?” The frown deepened. “And how can I pilot Black? Me me, not other me. Your me. Ugh, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with all that anymore.”

“Are you worried you won't be able to bond with Black?” Keith asked, perking up. Shiro gave Lance a pointed look, reaching over to lift his spoon away from the space mice. They squeaked angrily at Shiro, who gave them a little shrug.

“Well, there's too many variables to consider,” Coran mused. “Cross-dimensional travel was theoretical even in Altea's prime. But you don't have to worry about your ability to bond with the Black Lion! Your quintessence is already tested compatible, if a fair amount more directed toward the Blue Lion than most.”

“Rest assured you do not have to worry about bonding with the Black Lion,” Allura continued. “It is well documented that in times of crisis other paladins can pilot – and bond, if they have the time and ability – with the Black Lion. Likewise, with you – our Lance, that is – we have learned that it is possible for the Black Paladin to pilot any of the other four Lions.”

“What, really?” Lance straightened up. “Was that how your dad was able to lock away Black?”

“Precisely.” Allura nodded. She glanced away. “However, Father couldn't afford the time to properly bond with the Black Lion due to Zarkon's attack on Altea.”

“That explains a lot.” Keith looked from Allura to Lance. “I had to pilot Black to rescue you.”

“You– you did?” Lance felt something twist in his gut at that. “That's– that's so cool, Keith.”

It was half-hearted, even to Lance's ears. He dropped his spoon into his bowl of goo, no longer hungry, and pushed the bowl away.

“So we're reaching the swap moon tomorrow, yeah?” Lance asked, standing. “Guess I should get started on bonding with Black. Wouldn't want to have everything go wrong while we're all away.”

“Lance wait!” Shiro called out, reaching after Lance.

“Nope!” Lance shook his head, leaving the room. “Too important. This can't wait. If you need me, I'll be down with Black!”

“Lance!”

Lance never appreciated just how large the Black Lion was until he was standing in her hangar, looking up at her. He knew the Lions were huge, knew that Black was the largest of them all, but his only real reference was those few times he had landed Blue.

The Black Lion dwarfed Blue, nearly twice her size, not including the wings. She sat, looking down at Lance, waiting for him to come closer. She was waiting for her paladin.

Lance just wasn't sure if that was him. If he was the same person that his other self was. Sure, it was the same body, but that meant little if the rest of it was still Lance. The wrong Lance.

But... he couldn't not bond with Black. He couldn't avoid the problem and hope that he switched back so the right Lance could regain control. So the right Lance could prove himself a better and more effective Black Paladin than Zarkon.

“Lance.” Keith stepped into the hangar, looking back behind himself warily. He walked toward Lance, seating himself beside the lanky teen. “You know, I don't think bonding with your lion works like this.”

Lance flinched, thinking of Blue. She was his lion, not Black. And even then, he didn't think of her as his, not in the slightest. Blue was his lion as much as Lance was her pilot. They were two creatures, two living beings, in a symbiotic relationship. Together they were so much more than they were apart.

“I'm building a rapport,” Lance replied. “You can't expect me to just jump into the whole deep bonding.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, what are you doing here? Not that I'm complaining,” he added at Keith's hurt expression, “but I figured the whole bonding experience was a private thing.”

“You ran off,” Keith blandly replied, his hurt giving way to annoyance. “And you've been acting really weird, even for you.”

“So why you and not Allura or Shiro?” Lance asked, snorting. He tilted his head to look back at the door to the hangar. “Or did you draw the short straw?”

“Something like that,” Keith muttered, crossing his arms. “Shiro wanted to come, but Hunk had to talk him out of it. I think we're all taking turns or something.”

“To do what?” Lance shook his head. “I don't need talking to.”

“Shiro told us what you said.” Lance stiffened. “You... really don't want to leave?”

Lance shifted. He hadn't expected Shiro to say anything, and in retrospect, he really should have. This team, unlike his own, were so much more open with each other.

“It's a good universe,” Lance answered, looking at the floor before the Black Lion. “Better than mine, at least.”

“Zarkon's a big threat in both universes,” Keith replied. “I don't think that makes this universe better off than yours.”

“You guys then.” Lance glanced at Keith. “You're all so much closer here. Especially you with Hunk and Pidge.” Lance gave Keith a sly grin. “Is something happening there? Did you get lucky? Double lucky?”

“Shut up!” Keith playfully shoved at Lance, his face going red. “It's not like that! We're just... we're happy together, that's all.”

“Platonic?” Lance nodded, holding up a fist. “Respect.”

Keith stared at the fist, before reaching his own fist out and bumping their knuckles together.

“Are you going to tell them?” Lance asked. “About your family history?”

“Is that what we're calling it?” Keith muttered, glancing back at the door before shifting closer to Lance. “I... no. Not yet. I don't want to tell them until I know something more. They're going to have a ton of questions, and I already have enough without them adding to it. Plus...” Keith looked down, pulling his knees in close. “They're probably not going to react well.”

Lance stared at Keith. “Hunk cries every time he has to kill a bug. And Pidge is – okay, I don't have a clue about them, because apparently I didn't know as much about them as I thought I did, but still. They clearly like you, although crow knows why. Both of them do.” Lance gently nudged Keith in the arm. “You don't have anything to worry about.” He paused. “Except the questions. Those are going to be invasive, and about the weirdest things. Scientists are like that.”

“Still.” Keith looked at Lance, looking so much younger and smaller. “I want to be able to answer their questions. I want to know.” He grimaced. “I need to know I won't be some kind of threat to them.”

“Is that why you left?” Lance snorted. “Keith, you're hardly a threat to anyone in the Castle. I don't think we could form Voltron if that were the case.” On a whim, he slung an arm over Keith's shoulder. “Like, you think any of us could form Voltron if Zarkon were piloting Black? It'd be awful.”

Lance glanced up at Black. If anything, Zarkon was the leader of a different kind of Voltron. Something much, much more destructive than Lance had any hope of understanding. Voltron was like a hurricane, but Lance couldn't ever see himself – or any of the team, really – having complete control over it. Like a hurricane, Voltron couldn't be tamed, couldn't be completely controlled.

Sometimes, Lance felt like Voltron was something much more than what it seemed, something far larger and more powerful than the giant robot they knew it to be.

The Black Lions' eyes gleamed, and Lance heard the buffeting winds of the sea at the back of his mind. It felt like he'd touched on something that she approved of, that he was close to a realization that she wanted him to achieve, but wasn't willing to simply give to him.

“Besides, I don't think any of us could really leave,” Lance mused aloud. “If Zarkon's any indication, we'll never stop being Paladins. We're in it for life.” He turned to Keith and grinned. “Like some kind of family.”

Keith blinked, before a sly grin grew on his face. Lance froze, his words sinking in.

“No,” Lance said, pulling his arm away. “Keith don't you dare–”

“Or what?” Keith asked, on the verge of laughter. “You'll ground me?”

“Shut up!” Lance cried, shoving at Keith. The two of them started to laugh.

“Yes Mom,” Keith replied, rolling his eyes.

“I'm not your mom!” Lance hissed. “Now go tell the others not to worry about me – or bother me. I'm doing just fine.”

“Yes Mom,” Keith repeated, hopping to his feet and bouncing away from Lance's swipe. He laughed out of the room, chased by Lance's screams of frustration.

“I got to admit, I was expecting something more...” Lance gestured at the installation, trying to find the right descriptor.

“Death Star?” Keith suggested, and Lance blinked, staring at him in shock.

“Deep Space Nine,” Lance finished. “You're a Star Wars person?”

Keith shared a look with Pidge. “Yyyeah? Didn't you know that?”

“You're a Star Wars person,” Lance mumbled, shaking his head. “This explains everything and nothing about you.”

“What does that even mean?” Keith asked, squinting at Lance. “You said the exact same thing before you started calling me Skywalker.” Keith pouted, crossing his arms. “You never explained it.”

“I didn't?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I call you Skywalker? As in, Luke Skywalker?”

“You do,” Keith confirmed with a nod, and Lance grinned.

“Seriously? That's so– that's exactly you!” Lance gestured at Keith. “You're the desert child out in space adventuring with a magic sword on a destiny quest to defeat the evil empire. Keith, that's literally your life story! You're Luke Skywalker!”

He laughed, walking up toward the stage that led to the Black Lion.

“That's it?” Keith asked, balking. “That's why you've been calling me Skywalker all this time?”

“Oh, I wish I could meet the other me and shake his hand.” Lance sniggered into his hand. “That's brilliant. Even more brilliant than me giving Hunk his nickname.”

“Lance no!” Hunk cried, reaching out and pulling Keith and Pidge's faces up against his chest, coving their ears as best he could. “Don't tell them that!”

“I wasn't planning on it,” Lance replied, stepping onto the stage. “Have fun at the swap moon! I'll be down in Black working on the lion bonding.” He chuckled. “Skywalker. I'm going to be riding that high all day.”

Lance settled into the seat, reaching out for Black.

“Alright beautiful,” he began, looking around the cockpit, “I know I'm not the Lance you're used to, but maybe we can try bonding?” The birdsong in the back of his mind twittered, questioning. “What do you need to show me so I can better bond with you?”

Black rumbled, physically rumbled, and the birdsong turned into a tempest of wind. Lance jerked in his seat, staring as Black launched from the hangar. He shrieked, watching the universe become a blur before Black stopped. Lance fell forward, gasping and clutching his chest.

“Crow, warn a guy the next time you do that,” Lance wheezed. He looked up, out at the place Black had taken him. It was a planet, or what used to be a planet. It was a dull brown, a deadened rock that felt, even from where Lance sat in Black, as desolate as it looked. Debris scattered the area around it, a massive hole – a blast from something impossibly destructive, although Lance didn't want to guess from what – nearly breaking the planet in two. “What... where are we?”

The world shifted, and Lance blinked as time seemed to reverse itself. The debris vanished, the hole filling out, and Lance was left looking at a whole, alive planet. He stared at it, stared at the ships that traveled to and from it, at how purple the cities were.

“Is – was this the Galra home world?” Lance asked, but Black was silent. There was movement to the side, and Lance spotted a massive meteor traveling toward the Galra world. He got a familiar sense from it, the same sensation that came when Black spoke to him. “That's you?”

Black rumbled, the twittering of bluebirds echoing affirmative in the cockpit. This was the origin story of the Black Lion, Lance realized. This was the start of Voltron.

Black moved, flying in tandem with the meteor. Lance saw how deeply purple it was, almost black. It felt like the rock was looking at him, through time and space, but it wasn't just Black looking at him, it was – it was more. Something much larger, much more powerful. It felt like the ghost of Voltron, like the quiet when the storm has broken but the sky still rumbled with thunder.

Lance shivered, leaning back into the seat. He watched the meteor crash into the planet, watched as time sped up, slowed down, and–

“Is that Allura's dad? And – and Zarkon?”

There, standing before the meteor, King Alfor and Zarkon were looking up at the meteor, were discussing something Lance couldn't hear, were– were laughing with one another.

Time shifted again, and Lance saw it in glimpses – the excavation of the meteor, the creation of the Black Lion. He saw too Zarkon and Alfor, close friends, close allies. He saw Allura, first as a young baby in Zarkon's gentle hold – and that shocked Lance more than anything, that Zarkon could ever be gentle – and then as a young woman, looking up at the lions.

Lance saw Black in action, saw Zarkon piloting her against a fleet of warships. He watched as Black's wings exploded outward, became massive and full of feather blades and–

Lance watched, entranced, as Black flew through the ships, flew through ion cannon blasts and laser bursts like all of it wasn't there, like Black was a specter. He saw Black take out entire fleets in moments, saw Zarkon turn to look right at him.

“You.”

Reality tilted, and Lance was no longer in Black, was in a huge expanse. The world was painted purple, an empty place with clouds and the ground reflecting everything. The whole place had a sense of elsewhere, of being everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Far away from him, he saw Zarkon standing there, staring right at him.

“Oh, quiznack,” Lance muttered.

“So you are my supposed replacement?” Zarkon stepped forward, and despite the distance, Lance could hear him clear as day. “How hilarious. I would say I'm going to enjoy killing you, but that would imply that you are anything close to a worthy opponent.”

Zarkon moved, running at Lance.

Lance growled, rushing at Zarkon.

Together, they met in the middle.

Zarkon grabbed Lance by the throat, slamming him into the ground and tossing him aside.

“Look at this,” Zarkon said, disdain dripping from every word he spoke. “Allura must have been desperate, to choose you as my replacement.”

Lance got to his feet. “Well, I'm not my first choice either, but what are we going to do?” He grinned at Zarkon, all teeth. “It's not like I can just let you win.”

He rushed at Zarkon, lashing out with a kick – that Zarkon caught. Lance was spun and tossed aside.

“This is pathetic.” Zarkon picked Lance up, slamming his face down. The ground cracked, and cracked again, before shattering. “Killing you here in the astral plane will bring me no glory.”

Lance fell, and landed hard. He looked to the side, seeing Shiro fighting Zarkon.

“Shiro?” Lance groaned, pushing against the ground. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at his reflection, saw an uninjured face, shocked and wide-eyed, looking back at him. A single GAC was clenched between his teeth. Lance was looking at himself – no, not himself. He was looking at his other self. He was looking at the other Lance.

Reality shifted, and Lance landed on the ground, surrounded by aliens. He spat the GAC out into his hand, looking around.

“What the quiznack?” He muttered. Getting to his feet, Lance's pockets bulged and jangled with GAC. He whirled around, alert. Whatever this was, whatever weird attack Zarkon was planning, he had to be ready.

“Lance!” Pidge called out, hopping out of a fountain. They grabbed their shoes and Lance's jacket and shoes, jogging over to him. He tensed, before pulling them close. “What just happened? One moment you were in the air and the next you're over here. I swear it's like you video game glitched out of reality for a second there.”

“Pidge.” Lance covered their mouth, looking around worriedly. “Pidge what's going on? Where are we?” He paused. “Is this a mall? A space mall?”

Pidge peeled Lance's hand away from their mouth, glaring at him. “Okay I already told you never to do that again. This is your final warning. Second, what are you – wait.” Pidge squinted. “Lance, which Lance are you?”

“What?” Lance began to move, pulling Pidge away from the crowd. “What are you talking about?” A thought occurred to him, and he froze. “Wait, are you saying – is this my reality?” Lance's breath hitched. “Pidge, I'm with Blue here, right?”

“You are,” Pidge confirmed, looking at Lance starry-eyed. “What happened. How did you get back here?”

“I don't know. One minute I was fighting Zar– mmph!” Pidge covered Lance's mouth, shushing him, and he nodded. They pulled their hand away, and Lance leaned in close. “I was bonding with Black and then I was in some kind of astral plane when I came across– across you-know-who and then I was here and–”

Reality shifted again, and Lance was back in the astral plane. He saw himself, saw his other self, and reached out. The astral plane fractured, and Lance was back in the other body, back in the other reality, back to being tossed around by Zarkon.

“Being a Paladin is about control!” Zarkon snarled, tossing Lance aside. “Control over the Black Lion, which you don't have. I do. The Black Lion is mine by right. Voltron is mine by right.”

Lance struggled to his feet, jumping and throwing a punch that Zarkon caught. Lance smirked, swinging his torso around to kick Zarkon in the stomach.

“You can't control anything,” Lance growled, throwing all his weight into his attack. Zarkon stumbled, and Lance kicked again – this time landing a hit on Zarkon's face. He was let go, and Lance rolled with the fall, moving in close to keep up the onslaught. “Voltron is a force of nature. You can't control that!”

“Nothing is beyond my control,” Zarkon growled, sucker punching Lance in the gut. Zarkon grabbed onto Lance's hoodie, keeping him close as he followed up with a knee. Lance gagged, coughing up blood. He wrapped an arm around Zarkon's knee, punching him repeatedly in the thigh, in the space between his armor.

Zarkon grunted, elbowing Lance in the back. Lance cried out, his grip loosening, and Zarkon threw him into the ground. The ground shattered, reality warping again, and Lance found himself standing beside Shiro, looking down at two Zarkons.

“Lance!” Shiro cried out, reaching out for Lance. “You ran off – you're hurt! What did he do!”

“Shiro?” Lance blinked. “How are you – what is happening here?”

The Zarkons looked at one another, the astral plane breaking into a fractal, and two Zarkons became one.

“Fascinating,” Zarkon said, looking down at Lance and Shiro. “It appears that the astral plane truly transcends all dimensions. I will take my pleasure in destroying both of you. Two usurpers at once – a rarity I will remember.”

“No you don't!” Lance growled, rushing at Zarkon. He slammed into Zarkon while Shiro shouted behind him, and Zarkon split into two. Reality fractured, and Lance glanced back at Shiro. “Fight yours! Beat him! I'll be fine!”

“No!” Shiro cried, running after Lance, but the fractals shifted, making Lance lose sight of Shiro and the other Zarkon.

Together, Lance and Zarkon slammed into the ground of the astral plane.

“You don't control anything!” Lance growled, punching Zarkon in the face. “You don't control the Voltron, and you don't control the Black Lion!”

Zarkon tossed Lance off of him, but Lance rolled into a crouch, running back at Zarkon to keep fighting.

“No one controls the Black Lion,” Lance continued. “No one controls Voltron! Being a Paladin isn't about control, it's about respect! Respect for others, and respect for the Lions. You fly with the Black Lion, you direct Voltron, but no one controls them. Not even you!”

Lance punched at Zarkon, but had his fist caught.

“Voltron is power,” Zarkon said, and squeezed. Lance cried out as he heard his bones snapping, breaking, shattering. Lance fell to his knees. “And all power can be controlled. I control the Black Lion, and so I control Voltron. I have the power, and I control it. I own it. I own the Black Lion. I own Voltron.”

“No, you don't!” Lance screamed, and the astral plane shook. Black landed beside them, growling at the battle. Lance struggled to his feet. “You don't own the Black Lion. No one does. She owns herself, and there's nothing you can do to change that.”

The Black Lion roared, and Zarkon's grip on Lance loosened. He pulled his arm away, and felt Black envelop him, felt her with him, fill him, guide him.

Lane took his other hand, and punched Zarkon as hard as he could in the jaw. Zarkon cried out, stumbling back, and glitched out of the astral plane. Lance stood there, fist outstretched, cradling his broken arm close.

“Is he gone?” Lance asked Black. “He's gone, right?”

Black rumbled, bending down for Lance to enter.

“Sweet!” Lance grinned, patting Black as he stepped into her mouth, stumbling up and into the cockpit. He slumped into the seat, groaning in pain. “Oh, I'm going to need some time in the cryopod when we get back.” He paused. “Which... where are we?”

Black rumbled, and Lance watched as reality warped back into the hangar.

“What.” Lance leaned forward, grunting through the motion. “Are you telling me we were in the hangar the whole time?”

Black purred in contentment, and Lance groaned.

“The whole time?” Lance repeated, pushing to his feet. “At least Zarkon isn't tracking you, yeah?”

In the back of his mind, Lance was struck with the wind and birds in the wood, a sense of peace that he took as a very good sign.

“I'm going up to the bridge,” Lance grumbled, limping out of the cockpit and toward the elevator. “You just rest up for now, yeah?”

Black rumbled, and Lance leaned against the wall as the elevator doors slid shut. He had time, before going and having Allura bustle him into the cryopod, to think on the switch back to his universe. That was the second time it happened, and the only reason Lance could think of was that it was either his bond with Black – which, if that were true, then he would already be back in his universe and everything would be righted – or...

Or it was Zarkon.

Zarkon's control over Black, so strong it knocked the other Lance out of his reality.

And Zarkon didn't have that control anymore, didn't have the ability to reach out and wrest Lance away from Black.

Lance, in effect, was stuck in this reality.

“Well,” Lance said to the empty elevator, “that sucks.”

He could do nothing, but lead this team. He could do nothing but lead them against Zarkon, let them know that Zarkon was the reason the other Lance might not be coming back.

Lance didn't think he could do that to Shiro. No, he knew he couldn't do that to Shiro. Shiro cared about Lance – both Lances – too much.

And Lance cared about Shiro too much to do that, to crush his hopes of getting his Lance back. Not after having to leave his own Shiro behind to fight the other Zarkon alone.

The elevator stopped, the doors opening to the hallway outside the bridge. Lance shuffled out, hobbling into the bridge.

Everyone was back from the swap moon, apparently – Lance wanted to know if the swap moon here was a space mall like it was back in his reality. Coran was carrying a stack of scaultrite lenses, and Pidge was mooning over a video game while Shiro held the leash to a–

“Is that a cow?” Lance stared at the cow, and stumbled forward, nearly falling over. Keith and Hunk rushed over, helping Lance to stay standing. “Did you guys buy a cow at the space mall?”

“It's kaltenecker,” Pidge corrected, not looking up as they tore into the box in their hands.

“Her name is Porter,” Shiro added. He looked over Lance in concern. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Okay first of all,” Lance began, pointing at Shiro from over Keith's shoulder – Hunk had taken one look at his broken arm and stepped back, wary of moving it, “technically it wasn't Denny's parking lot. I don't know if it's three in the morning back on Earth, but it still wasn't a Denny's parking lot.”

Shiro blinked. “You seriously got into a fistfight with Zarkon?”

“Hey, don't knock it.” Lance wagged his unbroken finger at Shiro. “Zarkon can't track us from Black anymore, so that's the good to take from it.” He paused. “Also, I'm pretty sure that Zarkon had some sort of mystic lion bond hand in the universe swap.”

“How can you know?” Allura asked. “And let us move this to the medical bay. Lance, you need a cryopod.”

“I do,” Lance agreed. “Also during my fistfight – which was more of a back-alley brawl, really – I switched and briefly met your Lance. Was the swap moon really a space mall?” He paused. “Also, Pidge, were you raiding the fountains for GAC?”

Pidge froze, looking up from their game in shock. “Wait, you switched back? Like, full switch back?”

“I met my Shiro on the astral plane,” Lance said with a nod. “And had a rush talk with the other you. I think I was helping you raid the fountains.”

“That's not important,” Shiro cut in, reaching out and lifting Lance into a bridal carry. Lance groaned, but welcomed the move. Standing was taking too much of his energy, and he didn't think he could walk the whole way to the med bay. “Do you know anything about the swap? Do you remember anything at all?”

Lance looked away. “Well... like I said, Zarkon and the lion bond. I don't know the specifics.”

“So Zarkon is a key in undoing the swap?” Hunk asked, looking at Lance worriedly.

“It is possible that he could play a hand,” Allura interrupted. “However, it is presently impossible to know for sure. Lance needs to heal in a cryopod, and then we can decide our next move now that Zarkon cannot track us.”

“We could go check out the Blade of Marmora?” Keith offered, and Lance glanced at him in surprise.

“Having some allies in the fight against Zarkon could really help us,” Shiro added, nodding along to the idea. “What do you think, Lance?”

“That's...” Lance considered it. “We can check them out. If Zarkon really is a part of this whole swap thing, it's probably going to be easier if we have someone from the Galra on our side. An alliance would be good for us. Maybe they can help us capture him or something.”

“Perhaps,” Allura conceded, although she still didn't look pleased at the prospect. “I must admit, I am curious about a group of Galra that seek Zarkon's downfall. They could prove invaluable, if we can use them.”

“Alliance,” Lance repeated. “We're not using our allies. That's just bad friendship practices. We want them to still like us after we take down Zarkon. Wouldn't want all those Galra to turn around and rally all the Zarkon loyal Galra against us, instead of with us.”

“Quite right,” Coran agreed. “Now, off you go! Hunk, Pidge, if you could help me fix these lenses into place while they get Lance set to healing.”

“What about the – the kaltenecker?” Lance asked, looking at the animal in question.

“I'll stay with her!” Pidge volunteered, hopping in place. “Porter needs company, and who better than her new owner!”

“Technically Porter was free with purchase,” Shiro dryly replied. “That game better be worth having her on board. A kaltenecker is a lot of responsibility.”

“It is!” Pidge claimed, hugging the console tight to their chest. “Killbot Phantasm 1 is totally worth owning a kaltenecker!”

“I'm not cleaning up after her!” Lance called out as they left for the med bay. Porter mooed in response.

Chapter Text

They parked the podship in the main hangar, Pidge nearly leaving Lance to pull Kaltenecker along behind them.

“Oh, no you don't!” Lance reached out, snagging Pidge by the back of their shirt collar and tugging. They stumbled back, glaring at Lance. He held up the leash to Kaltenecker. “Okay so I know you just got a new game and you're mega excited to play it, but how about we figure out how you're taking care of Kaltenecker first, yeah?”

“Can't we just feed her food goo?” Pidge looked at Kaltenecker.

“I–” Lance paused, looking at Coran. “Is the food goo a universal okay?”

“Naturally!” Coran nodded, carefully balancing the stack of lenses in his hands. “Our food goo is specifically made to be consumed by all forms of life in the known universe.”

“Cool, cool.” Hunk nodded, while Lance hummed.

“Okay, that takes care of food intake, but!” Lance pointed a finger at Coran. “What about clean-up?”

“Clean-up?” Coran asked, looking at the finger suspiciously.

“When the food goo goes through her digestive system,” Lance explained. “Unless there's a bathroom built for her–”

“Ah!” Coran nodded. “Say no more, I know just the place. There's a part of the Castle that was built to house Gracklouses, we can get our Kaltenecker set up there and she'll be just fine!”

“I have so many questions,” Lance admitted, shaking his head. “But I don't want the answers. Let's just... get Kaltenecker settled in her new home, then go and talk with Allura.” He glanced at Pidge, who raised an eyebrow back at him. “She'll want to know what happened.”

“Onward!” Coran led the charge to the elevator, and they all managed to cram inside, careful to avoid getting squished by Kaltenecker too much. Pidge wound up getting lifted onto Hunk's shoulders, and lance was shoved onto all fours and underneath Kaltenecker, where he fervently prayed that she didn't need to go.

“So will the place feed her, or will we have to?” Pidge asked, and Coran hummed.

“I'm sure a system can be added to present her with food at set times.”

They stopped on one of the living decks, where Lance was surprised to see that everything could be set into place for Kaltenecker to graze and wander to her heart's content, before leaving her be and moving on to the bridge.

Lance stared at Allura's hair. “Nice look! The space mice do that?”

The mice squeaked from atop Allura's shoulder, proud, and Lance grinned at them. He made a note to give them each some of his helping of food goo at dinner.

“Paladins,” Allura greeted. “And Coran. I see that the trip was a success.”

“Indeed it was,” Coran smiled, hefting the stack of lenses. “I managed to barter one of my Olkari repeater cubes for these scaultrite lenses. We have more than enough here to replace all the broken ones, with a fair few to keep in storage in case it happens again.”

“Wonderful!” Allura clapped her hands together. “And you, Paladins? Hopefully the swap moon was not too much of a lawless place for you to enjoy?”

“Allura,” Lance began, stepping forward and giving her the most serious look he could muster. “One day we will return, and you will discover the joys of shopping there. Space mall is a magical place.”

“Space... mall?” Allura looked at Lance askance.

“Yeah!” Lance nodded, and gestured at the game in Pidge's arms. “It's like if you took a whole marketplace and shoved it all into a single building. It's a magical, lawless land. You have to go. It's already decided, we're taking you as soon as it's been long enough for that mall cop to forget our faces.”

“You – what?” Allura looked from Lance to Coran and back again. “You got a bounty placed on your heads? But it's only been a few vargas!”

“Okay, technically it's not a bounty,” Hunk chimed in. “It's more like if we ever go back to that space mall we'll have to explain that we weren't really...” Hunk trailed off, before shrugged. “Yeah I got nothing. Space mall is a lawless land, we didn't do anything wrong.”

Lance nodded. “See? And we didn't shoplift, so Pidge's game and Kaltenecker are rightfully ours. Earth shop alien guy can totally confirm it for us.”

“Get to the important part,” Pidge wheedled. “I want this over with so I can play some Killbot Phantasm 1.”

“The important part?” Allura's gaze sharpened, focusing in on Lance. “Something more important that the scaultrite lenses?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Lance paused, reaching up to touch his face before falling. “I– Pidge said I vanished, which is strange, but, like, I – I switched back. To my body.”

“What?” Allura reached out, grabbing Lance by the shoulders and shaking him. “What happened? How are you still here?”

“Whoa!” Hunk intervened, Keith on his tail. Together, they got Allura to ease up, and Lance blinked away the slight dizziness. “He can't answer if you shake him like that.”

“Yeah, cool your jets, Allura,” Lance added, placing a steadying hand on Keith's shoulder. “Pidge knows about as much as I do, since they were there.”

“I saw our Lance,” Pidge was practically bouncing in place, their game all but forgotten. “He talked about being in some sort of astral plane or something, and he was fighting Zarkon.”

“He what?” Allura looked from Pidge to Lance, shocked.

“I was fighting Zarkon,” Lance said. “And – and Shiro was there. Your Shiro. And two Zarkons. One from my universe and one from yours.”

“I don't understand,” Allura said, shaking her head. “You said the astral plane? But that's an old legend, it's never been–”

“Lance!”

Everyone turned to see Shiro standing there, looking at Lance like–

Lance's chest tightened.

Shiro looked like he had when Lance had emerged from the healing pod the first time. Concern and worry and a bundle of nerves.

Shiro crossed the distance, reaching out for Lance being almost gentle. He looked Lance over, eyes wide and almost unseeing. Lance reached up, tentatively, hesitantly placing a hand to Shiro's face. “Shiro, I'm fine. I– that was really you, wasn't it. On the astral plane.”

“It was.” Shiro nodded. He traced Lance's face, where Lance knew the bruises and cuts had been. “You're not injured.”

“No.” Lance shook his head. “I'm really not. That was – that was my original body. What about you? Shiro, are you okay? You went up against Zarkon, yeah?”

“Lance.” Shiro reached up, gently pulling Lance's hand away. “You were really there?” Lance nodded. “And you ran toward Zarkon, both times?”

“Both times?” Lance frowned, sharing a concerned look with Allura. “Shiro I only appeared the once.”

“Are you saying you saw another Lance?” Allura pressed. “Our Lance?”

“I don't–” Shiro pulled away from Lance, dropping his hand. “I don't know. That wasn't you?”

“It was your Lance.” Lance shook his head. “The first time it was all me, but I only appeared the once.”

“Then– then you–” Shiro shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“Yes it does.” Lance stepped forward, but Shiro kept shaking his head, taking another step back.

“You're here, and you're not hurt,” Shiro said. “That's all that matters.” He turned toward Allura. “I have good news. I bonded with Black. Zarkon can't track us anymore.”

“Shiro, it matters,” Lance insisted. He felt his stomach tighten further. “If you can tell us what you know, then we can figure out how to undo this.”

“I already told you what I know,” Shiro sighed, exasperated. “You were there, but you were injured, and you went against my orders and went after Zarkon both times.” Shiro sighed. “I'm your leader, Lance, why can't you just follow my orders?”

Lance groaned. “I'm trying, Shiro.”

“I understand that, Lance,” Shiro replied. “But you can't keep going off on your own like this.”

“I'm not.” Lance shook his head. He turned, unable to bear this. “I'm doing my best here.”

“We're losing sight of what's important,” Allura cut in. “Zarkon can no longer track us. That is a good thing, Lance, Shiro. Now we can operate without fear of Zarkon finding us.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but Allura gave him a sharp look to keep quiet. He closed his mouth with a sharp click of his jaw. Arguing was getting them nowhere.

“Well then,” Lance ground out, unable to keep his frustration from leaking through his voice. “What are our orders?”

“We're going to find the Blade of Marmora headquarters,” Shiro stated. “I'm assuming you guys got the new scaultrite lenses, so we can leave as soon as they're installed.”

“No can do, Number One,” Coran shook his head. “I can get these installed before the end of the quintant, but it will be another few vargas before I feel confident that we can run the teludav without breaking it.”

“Tomorrow then.” Shiro nodded. “We'll go to the Blade first thing tomorrow.”

Allura glanced at Lance worriedly. “Shiro, are you certain about this? We now have certain freedoms to direct our actions. This Galra group can wait.”

“No they can't.” Shiro frowned at Allura. “We need allies, and they're our best opportunity at stopping Zarkon.”

“I understand that we need allies,” Allura matched his frown. “However, it has been ten kilopheebs since Altea fell and Zarkon assumed power. This Blade of Marmora is under no rush, and as much as it pains me to say it, neither are we. We can afford to take some quintants to rest, and respond to recent distress signals, and perhaps even help undo this cross-dimensional switch that Lance has undergone.”

“Lance isn't a top priority right now.” Shiro shook his head, breaking Lance's heart just a little. Hunk winced, and Keith sucked in a sharp breath. “We can still form Voltron, and he can still pilot the Blue Lion, so unless something happens it can wait.” Shiro paused, turning to look at Lance, as if only just remembering that he was still in the room. “But we will get you back to your universe as soon as we can. Don't worry.”

Lance stared at Shiro, numbly nodding. He couldn't believe it. Even after all this, undoing the swap still wasn't a high priority? Just what role did their Lance play on this team, to be considered so lowly by Shiro?

“Fine,” he said, not really registering the words. “Let's go get allies. It's not like I'm all that important, compared to stopping Zarkon.”

Shiro nodded, looking unfairly pleased. “That's good. I'm glad we could clear this up.”

“I'm quite sure you are,” Allura icily said. “Perhaps, in the meantime, I could help with your training? It has been quite a while since I had an opponent that was not the training robot. I would certainly appreciate it if you could be my partner, Shiro.”

Shiro paused, looking at Allura like a deer caught in the headlights. “I...” Allura leaned forward, smiling at him innocently. “I'm glad to help you keep up your training.”

Lance remembered Allura tossing Ulaz around like he didn't weigh a thing to her, and gave her a soft, grateful smile while Shiro's attention was on her.

Pidge looked from Shiro to Allura to Lance, clearly uncomfortable. “Well if that's all, then I'm going to play my game.”

“I think I'll join you,” Lance said, reaching out and grabbing a controller. He needed a distraction, needed something mindless to clear his head. Pidge lifted the AV cord, looking around excitedly, before pausing.

“No.” Pidge shook their head. “No. NooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 Lance managed to calm Pidge down with some help from Hunk, and left the two in Hunk's room, figuring out how to create a converter so Pidge could plug in their console and play their game. He stood outside the room, letting out a deep breath.

He knew, on some level, that Shiro didn't like him. Knew that he was doing something wrong, but still. Lance had hoped that he had something with Shiro, that he was considered an important member of the team.

“Lance?” He straightened, spotting Keith lingering in the door to his room. “Are you.. busy?”

“”Not really,” Lance answered. “I was kinda hoping to watch Allura kick Shiro's butt from here to, uh, what did Coran call it? Woblay?” He shook his head. “No, I'm not busy. Why? Did you want to talk?”

Keith looked around them, before gesturing for Lance to step into the room. Following, Lance moved to sit on the bed, patting for Keith to sit beside him.

“So I found a knife guy at the space mall,” Keith began, inhaling sharply. “I showed him my knife, and he recognized it. Or the metal, at least.”

“He did?” Lance's brow furrowed. “Not an earth metal, I'm guessing?”

“He called it Luxite,” Keith confirmed, looking down at his hands. “It's a metal from a dead planet. Really rare, and valuable.”

“Ah, quiznack.” Lance winced. “And he was sure? Like, for all we know it could have been an earth metal–”

“I got into a knife fight with him when he tried to steal it from my hands,” Keith dryly interrupted. “Literally. The knife was in my hand the entire time. So yes, I'm sure he was telling the truth.”

Lance winced. “How are you holding up?” He asked. “You're not nervous about tomorrow or anything, are you?”

“I'm– I don't know. Excited?” Keith shrugged, looking at Lance with a lost expression. “But I'm also terrified and I think the two are canceling each other out. Everything's getting numb.”

“That's probably not good.” Lance wanted to reach an arm around Keith's shoulder, pull him close and never let go. “Sounds a lot like shock.”

“I just– that knife was my Mom's, Lance. And she gave it to me to find her.” Keith turned away. “I'm excited, because I never got to meet her. My dad, he – I was a pretty spirited kid, and Dad said that I got it from my mom. I don't remember much about him, but I do remember this one time, when he got called in to my school because I bit a kid–”

“You bit a kid?” Lance smiled. “You were a biter?”

“Shut up!” Keith shoved at Lance, but he was smiling. “Zeke was a crayon-hoarding dick and deserved it! The principal called Dad in, and when he saw me sitting there with the crayons looking so smug, he laughed. I still got detention for the rest of the week, but Dad said that I was just like Mom. He said I got all the best parts of her, and all the worst parts of him.”

“All the worst parts of him?” Lance snorted. “Sounds like I know him already.”

“Shut up!” Keith groaned, but it held no venom. “You'd love him, he's just like you and Shiro.”

“Wait, what?” Lance's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Yes.” Keith rolled his eyes. “You're both so good at pestering me into actually talking. And Shiro's patient with me, like he was. And he was calm, like the both of you.”

Lance felt his smile slip, as Keith referred to his dad like he was already dead. “Hey, he could still be out there. You were never told he died, yeah? Just that he vanished. It could be that he's somewhere out here, looking for your mom.”

“Why leave me behind then?” Keith asked, frowning. “Why would he go away then?”

Lance shrugged. “Why would the Galra even come to Earth? Why would they think the Blue Lion is there?”

Keith gave Lance a sharp look. “Lance, get to the point. We don't know the answer to any of those questions.”

“Exactly!” Lance spread his hands out wide. “A couple weeks ago we didn't know the universe was so huge, or dangerous. You seriously think we'll find out the answer to anything easily? For all we know, he considered you old enough to leave alone and survive on Earth, but nowhere near old enough to keep safe out here.”

“But why did he leave, Lance?” Keith cried, glaring at Lance. “What was it about my mom that he felt he had to leave to find her?” Keith groaned, slumping his head into his hands. “It all comes back to my mom. I have to know.”

Lance reached out. “And when we arrive tomorrow?”

“My mom wanted me to find the Blade of Marmora,” Keith replied. “I want to know why.”

“So you think the Marmorites will know?” Lance reached out, gently pulling Keith into a hug. “Do you want to know for sure?”

Keith laughed, short and wet. “What, that I'm Galra? Lance, I already know that.”

“No, you think that,” Lance corrected, one hand reaching up to cradle Keith's head. “Trust me, there's a very huge difference between thinking something is true and knowing that it's true.”

“But I still want to know,” Keith said. “It's – not knowing for sure is... scary. It feels like knowing for sure will be better.”

“And then?” Lance asked. “When you know for sure?”

“I don't know.” Keith shook his head.

“Will you tell anyone else?” Lance asked. Keith stiffened.

“And then what?” Keith snorted, giving Lance a wan smile. “You know what the Galra did to everyone. They don't like the Galra, what will they do when they find out that I'm a – a Galra?”

“Well, if Shiro's still anything like your Dad,” Lance mused, “he'll probably remind you that he's still proud of you no matter what you are.” Lance hummed. “Honestly? I don't think Hunk will care all that much. Pidge will have a ton of questions, and...”

Lance trailed off. He knew that left Allura and Coran. The Alteans had lost everything to the Galra, and the last time a Galra had been a Paladin, it was Zarkon.

“Yeah,” Keith said, seemingly answering Lance's unspoken concerns. “Exactly.”

“Coran's been handling everything pretty well so far,” Lance admitted. “And Allura... she needs time. Just like you said about Shiro.” Lance gave Keith a small smile. “It'll be okay.”

“I'm not okay,” Keith admitted.

“And that's okay,” Lance replied. “I'm pretty sure you'd be a robot if you were okay with any of this.”

“Shut up,” Keith repeated, but Lance could hear his smile. He was glad that, out of the two of them, Keith could at least find solace.

“Hey.” Lance nudged at Keith.

“Didn't I just say to stop talking?” Keith grumbled.

“I heard griping, but I didn't hear anything telling me to stop.” Lance pulled back enough so that he could really look at Keith. “Earlier, with Shiro, I realized something.”

“He's not being a jerk,” Keith automatically replied. “Not on purpose, anyway. Shiro just needs some time to adjust. He's patient but even he needs to time.”

“It's not that.” Lance grimaced. “Well, not entirely. It did get me to thinking. What... what kind of role did your Lance fill in the Castle?”

Keith paused. He gave Lance a weird, searching look. “I don't know what you're talking about. Role?”

“Like, in the Castle,” Lance explained. “Did he keep track of you guys? Did he help Coran? If this were an Earth mission, what would your Lance be?”

Keith shrugged. “Outside of missions, mostly he was just... there.” Keith grimaced. “It feels weird talking about you like you're not here.”

“Think about how I feel,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes. “I am me. But continue.”

“Mostly he made jokes when we weren't training, or wandered the Castle. I think Coran liked to find him and make him do chores like cleaning the cryopods.”

“So all the stuff that I've been doing – keeping track of you guys, getting you to socialize, trying to get Shiro to open up? I– your Lance doesn't do that?” Lance frowned. “What about on missions? Is there a clear command structure there? Like, I know Allura's the big commanding officer and Shiro's basically our captain, but is there second in command? Am I the plans guy? The sharpshooter?”

“That sharpshooter?” Keith echoed in disbelief. “Is that anything like that stupid nickname Pidge said you had during flight school?”

Lance's frown deepened. “Nevermind. I should be going, anyway. You look like you're doing a lot better.”

“I am.” Keith paused. “What, uh, what about you?”

“Me?” Lance froze in the middle of standing. “What about me? Be specific, Skywalker. Words are your friend.”

“How are you dealing with all... this?” Keith gestured all around him. “ I know Shiro said that getting you back to your universe wasn't a huge priority but he has a point. If it really is Zarkon then we can't really do anything to help you without having him nearby.”

Lance pursed his lips. He wanted to disagree, wanted to play it off like they were going to attack Zarkon next week, but he couldn't. “I miss my team. I know them, and I know that they're doing alright, but... Keith, your Lance was fighting Zarkon. I don't know if I could do the same thing and win, much less come out of it alive. He wasn't wearing armor, and he doesn't have a bayard, so... I'm a little worried about him, alright?”

“But...” Keith made a face, something between concerned and confused. “He's you. You don't think that you can beat Zarkon?”

“Not alone,” Lance pressed. “It's why we have Voltron. So that none of us will ever be alone when we go up against him. Voltron isn't any one person, it's all of us together. It's why I always wanted us to do ordinary stuff as a group, like movie night, or going out and foraging for food.” He paused. “Coran actually had the right idea locking our hands together that one time. Horrible execution, but the right idea.”

“Seriously?” Keith snorted. “Coran?”

“He knows his stuff,” Lance said with a nod. “Don't ever underestimate him.” He patted Keith on the knee. “Well, it's it's time for me to get going. Hopefully this has been as good a talk for you as it has been for me.”

Keith looked from Lance to the leg he patted and back. Under his breath he murmured, “Exactly like my dad.”

Lance chuckled as he left Keith's room.

Allura was waiting outside the room, still in her armor. She spotted him leaving Keith's room, and brightened up. A little unfairly, she looked like she hadn't just come from what Lance assumed was an intense training session with Shiro.

“Lance!” Allura brightened up. “I came to talk with you but Chuchule informed me that you weren't in your room.”

“Yeah, I was... talking with Keith.” Lance made a vague gesture at the room behind him. “We were swapping childhood stories. How did your training session with Shiro go? Shake off any of that rust?”

“The training session was quite informative,” Allura answered. She gestured at the door. “May we talk in your room?”

“Of course.” Lance opened the door, gesturing. “After you. We can talk at that table.”

“Naturally.” Allura stepped inside, pulling out the table and chairs. She sat down.

“So is there a reason you're here?” Lance asked, following her into the room. “Not that I mind, but usually you don't just seek me out.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Shiro,” Allura replied. She gestured at the open seat, which Lance gladly took. “Firstly, I have helped him to understand that you are, in fact, a much higher priority that he made it seem.”

“Allura!” Lance groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“Second,” Allura continued, as if he hadn't spoken, “I have learned that human bones make a snapping noise when you break them. It's quite fascinating.”

“What?” Lance gaped. “You broke Shiro's arm?”

“Yes.” Allura glanced away, looking far too innocent to be believed. “His arm. That's all I broke. Of course.”

“Alllura!” Lance protested, aghast. “What about tomorrow? Are we still going to the Blade of Marmora? With a broken Shiro?”

“Of course not.” Allura's smile faded, just a little. “Shiro will spend the next few vargas in the cryopod. Unfortunately, he couldn't walk for... reasons I shall not say, so I had to – what was that phrase Keith once used? Ah, yes, I cradled him in my arms.”

Lance snorted. “Is that so?”

“And to answer your question,” Allura sighed. “He is still insistent that we go. I did try to dissuade him and properly explain that your situation takes precedence over a possible ally, especially a one that is Galra.”

Lance winced. “Allura, I don't agree with him either, but I thought we went over this.”

“We did.” Allura's smile vanished, her face going tight. “However, I cannot simply move past my grievances like you seem to believe.”

“What if the lions had chosen five Galra?” Lance asked. “What if it was a group of Galra instead of humans that had the mystic fate of taking down Zarkon? What would you have done?”

“I–” Allura paused, her face falling. “I... do not know.”

“You'd find a way to move past it,” Lance replied. “It won't be quick and it won't be easy, but it will happen.” He glanced around the room. “Anyway, we're really going to the Blade of Marmora tomorrow?”

“We are.”

Lance sighed. “Allura, what's my role in the team?”

“What?” Allura frowned. “Lance you are the Blue Paladin, do not doubt that.”

“It's not that.” Lance shook his head. “I just mean... nevermind. You probably wouldn't understand.”

“Lance.” Allura reached out. “You must not feel uncertain of your place on this team. The Blue Paladin–”

“Is the central leg of Voltron, endlessly loyal, providing faith and trust in their teammates and in others.” Lance waved her off. “I know all that. Like I said. You probably wouldn't understand.”

Allura pursed her lips, giving Lance a pinched look. “I'm not sure I want to understand.”

“You should get going,” Lance said. “Keep resting up for the next big jump. What do you want to bet that we're about to have another very busy week.”

Allura shook her head. “I do not gamble like Coran does, but I would not be surprised.” She stood. “Very well. I shall see you for evening nourishment?”

“Yeah, of course.” Lance grinned. “And we call it dinner.”

“Dinner,” Allura amended, testing the word. She smiled to herself. “How odd. Dinner. Dinner.”

“Don't wear it out,” Lance warned to her retreating back.

Dinner was a tense affair, with Lance studiously avoiding looking at Shiro before hurriedly heading back to his room. All he wanted was some time to himself.

Naturally, someone knocked on his door while he was putting on his face mask.

Shiro awkwardly stood in the hallway when Lance opened the door.

“Shiro?” Lance blinked in surprise.

“Lance.” Shiro tilted his head. “Can I– is it alright if I come in?”

“I– yeah. Yeah, of course.” Lance stepped back, letting Shiro inside. “What did you need?”

“I wanted to apologize,” Shiro began, looking around the room. Lance walked over, pressing the panel and bringing out the table. “I – were those always there?”

“Allura showed me the other day,” Lance answered. “You want to sit?”

“I–” Shiro glanced at the bed, before nodding. “I would.”

“So,” Lance said once they were seated. “You wanted to apologize.”

“I did.” Shiro nodded. “I wasn't – I didn't mean that you were never going back to your universe. I just meant that we had more important things happening. The Blade of Marmora won't be waiting around for us forever. It's better that we make an alliance with them soon rather than later.”

Lance nodded. From an objective standpoint, he would have made the same call. “I can get behind that. You just – Shiro, this isn't my universe. You have to remember that.”

“I do.” Shiro winced, a full body wince that Lance suspected was because of Allura. “I understand that now. And you have your own team to be worried about.”

“I'm not worried about them,” Lance said. “I'm worried about your Lance.”

Shiro glanced away. “It's easy to forget that you're not– not from this universe.”

“But you can remember it when it's important, yeah?” Lance looked at Shiro, searching his face. “Shiro, tell me that you'll remember it from now on.”

“Like I said, it's easy to forget.” Shiro grimaced. “You're still the same person. You act like the same Lance a lot of the time.” He paused. “I do care about you. Maybe not as much as Allura thinks I should, but... I care about all of you. You're my crew. All of you.”

Lance gave Shiro a small, hopeful smile. “Even me?”

Shiro met Lance's smile with one of his own. “Even you.”

The next day, Lance watched as they came out of the wormhole to what felt like an impossible sight.

“Is that– those are black holes.” Hunk looked at Pidge, amazed. “Two black holes. I don't– that's just–”

“That's a blue star,” Pidge said, staring up at the screen on confusion. “That's a blue star between them. How are these black holes not consuming each other?”

“Space is awesome,” Lance breathed, awestruck.

“The coordinates that Ulaz gave us led us here?” Allura pulled up the coordinates.

“Coran, can we run a scan for gravitational anomalies?” Shiro asked. “The same kind that were around Ulaz's ship in the Thaldycon system.”

“I can try, Number One, but I fear nothing will come of it.” Coran pulled up the preliminary scans, and Lance straightened up. “That blue star has a very dense gravitational field around it. As to those black holes. It would be nothing short of miraculous to spot a specific gravitational anomaly among all that.”

“Maybe we could send out a signal?” Lance offered. “Let them know we're here and we come in peace, even if we have no clue where exactly they are?”

“You think it will work?” Pidge asked, skeptical. Lance shrugged.

“It beats waiting around for one of them to sneak aboard.”

“Very well.” Allura nodded. “Coran, ready a message for short-wave broadcast. Nothing that will leave this system. Let them know that Voltron has come as the request of one of their own and–”

The main screen pinged, and everyone watched as a message appeared.

“It looks like they were expecting us.” Shiro turned toward Pidge. “Can you run that through your translator?”

“I can. Just give me a moment.” Pidge pulled up their console, and up on the main screen the Galra script turned into something more readable. “There we go.”

“I can't read that,” Allura admitted. “Is that what you Earthlings read? It's... spirited.”

“It's English,” Pidge said. “It's hardly the most beautiful of Earth languages but it's the one we all know.”

“What does it say?” Allura snapped, exasperated. “Or could you perhaps use your newly gotten knowledge of Altean to translate it so Coran and I can read it as well.”

“It's basically the same thing we were about to send them,” Lance explained, dismissing the console and standing. “They're sending us coordinates to their base.”

“Only two people can enter,” Hunk said, squinting at the screen. “Unarmed.”

“And the path will be open for a brief time before closing for...” Keith frowned. “What does that say?”

“Forty Vargas,” Pidge continued. “Which is...”

“Two quintants,” Lance concluded. “They expect us to send two people down, unarmed, for two quintants.”

Allura frowned. “I do not like this.”

“Neither do I, but we don't have a choice.” Shiro turned away. “Coran, pull up the coordinates. What's this path they want us to take.”

Coran tapped away on his console, before pulling up an overlay of the black holes and star, charting a path from the Castle to a spot between the star and one of the black holes.

“That's... something.” Lance turned to look at Shiro. “Do you think all their bases are like this? Placed where they could easily blow it up so there was no trace they were ever there.”

“They're going up against Zarkon,” Shiro said, as if that explained everything. “They have to be careful.”

“It will require a lot of skill to travel there,” Coran said. “One wrong move and you could be pulled into the star or the black hole. Very dangerous.”

“Well, we know Shiro's going,” Lance began, puffing up. If he hadn't found the other Lance's place yet, then maybe he was some kind of diplomat. “So seeing as it's going to be a lot of diplomacy then I–”

“Keith's coming with me,” Shiro interrupted.

“What?” Lance stared at Shiro in disbelief. “Shiro, you do realize what you're saying, yeah?”

“I do.” Shiro set his shoulders, giving Lance a challenging look. “And we need a skilled pilot to get us there. Keith can do that. Besides, the Red Lion is built to withstand intense heat like that star is giving off. I'm taking Keith with me.”

“But I'm–” the negotiator, he didn't say. “You don't know that Red is needed.”

“Look at that map, Lance.” Shiro jerked his head at the main screen. “Keith and the Red Lion have the skill necessary to make that trip.”

“And when you get there?” Lance growled. “What then? You're going there to have diplomacy, not fight!”

“Hey!” Keith protested.

“Keith, don't try to deny that, if given the first chance, you would fight before asking questions.” Lance watched Keith pause before shrugging in defeat. “Thank you. Now, since Keith isn't going, I should be the one to–”

“You're not going, Lance,” Shiro ordered. “I would rather have Keith by my side for this than you.”

Lance stiffened. He felt his chest tighten, felt the bottom of his stomach drop away.

“Do you really mean that?” Lance asked. “You would rather have Keith with you to negotiate an alliance than me?”

“Any day, Lance,” Shiro replied.

“What the fuck did he do wrong?” Pidge froze, Hunk looking over at Lance in alarm. Keith gaped at Lance, while Shiro paused. They were all well aware of Lance's stance on swearing, and to see him let out an Earth swear like that... Lance gasped, trying to catch a breath that remained just out of reach. “What did your Lance do that made you not trust him like this?”

“Nothing. Lance, you – he did nothing.” Lance stepped back as if slapped. That couldn't be true. No one ever formed an opinion out of nothing.

“Don't lie to me.” Lance shook his head. “Last night, you said you cared about all of us. Even me. You said we were your crew.”

“You are.” Shiro looked lost, like he had no clue where this came from. Lance wanted to hate him for that, but he couldn't. He couldn't hate Shiro.

“Then what is my role on your crew?” Lance stared at Shiro, hating how it had come to this, hating how he had to ask it, but not hating Shiro. “What is my role on this team?”

Shiro froze, eyes widening. “Lance, you're a part of Voltron. You're the Blue Paladin. We couldn't do this without you.”

“Outside of that!” Lance snarled, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. “What is the point of me? When we're not Paladins, when we're just your crew, what is the point of me?” Lance gasped, trying to keep calm, but failing. “Everyone else has a clear-cut role here. Coran's the ship's mechanic. Allura's the commanding officer. Hunk's the engineer and cook. Pidge is the communications officer and software engineer. You're the captain and squad leader. Keith's the ace pilot and, apparently, your second-in-command. What does that leave me with? I'm clearly not here for diplomacy, you just made that clear. I'd say I'm the sharpshooter but that's just in combat. So what am I, Shiro? What the fuck is the point of me even being out here?”

“Dude,” Hunk breathed, in the silence that followed.

“Lance, that's enough.” Shiro stepped forward, looking like he didn't want to say this but he was. “You're an important member of this team. I get that you don't like not getting chosen for this mission, I get that you don't like this mission taking priority over you, but I'm taking Keith and that's final.”

“But that's not–”

“Lance, I am your commanding officer here,” Shiro interrupted, looking exasperated. Always, always exasperated, and at Lance. “And I order you to stay here with the rest of the team while I take Keith with me to meet with the Blade.”

Lance tried to remember if this Shiro had ever looked at him as warmly as his own Shiro had, and he couldn't remember a single instance. Not even the night before, when Shiro – this other Shiro, not his own – had mirrored his smile back at him, it hadn't felt as fond or as soft when Lance compared it with his own Shiro.

He stiffened, the tears ending their flow. Cold fury replaced the white-hot anger, and Lance stood at attention, drawing on every ounce of his willpower to keep his face blank as he saluted.

“Of course, Captain Shirogane,” Lance said, his voice cold. He glared at Shiro, letting the ice cold fury settle deep within him. Shiro stepped back as if slapped. Hunk gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. Keith squirmed, looking deeply uncomfortable. Pidge stared from Lance to Shiro in shock and thinly disguised horror.

“Lance I didn't mean it like that.”

“You meant exactly what you said, Sir,” Lance replied. “You're the commanding officer and I'm the cadet. That's exactly what our roles here are, sir.”

“I...” Shiro shook his head. “That's not what I meant.”

“You made your stance perfectly clear, sir.” Lance glared at Shiro. “By your leave, Captain Shirogane.”

“I–” Shiro looked at the others, hoping for them to chime in, to say anything. Keith hurriedly shook his head, while Hunk slid down into his seat and pretended to look busy. Pidge met Shiro's stare, giving him a blank look as they slowly shook their head. Allura and Coran were watching the exchange with mild worry.

Not once did Lance stop standing at attention.

Shiro sighed. “At ease.”

“Sir?” Lance asked, tensing his jaw.

Shiro winced. “At ease... cadet.”

In his seat, Hunk flinched.

“Thank you, sir.” Lance walked back to the blue seat, still stiff with cold fury. He paused. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“...granted.”

Lance whirled around. “You're lucky this isn't my universe. If it was, I would be letting you know that I quit. If this was my universe, I would be making sure you understood that the moment Zarkon is taken down, I'm no longer a Paladin and I would fully expect to be given honorable discharge from your service and returned back to Earth.” He paused, putting the most venom he could into his next word. “Sir.”

Shiro stepped back, flinching.

“So you're lucky,” Lance repeated. “So quiznacking lucky that this isn't my universe. Because I'm not doing that to your Lance. Because I am not your Lance.”

Shiro swallowed. “Lance I'm sorry.”

“No you're not.” Lance shook his head. “Don't you have a mission of diplomacy that needs your attention, Captain Shirogane?”

Shiro flinched.

“Keith,” Shiro called out, his voice weaker than usual. “Let's – let's go to the Red Lion. That path won't be open for much longer.”

Keith gave Lance an apologetic look. “You got on ahead. I, uh, I'll catch up.”

Shiro looked from Keith to Lance, looked like he wanted to say something, before turning and leaving the bridge.

“He's a dick,” Keith said, the moment Shiro was out of the room. “I know what I said last night, but just now... he was being a dick. And... I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.” Lance slumped over in the chair, too keyed up to really relax. “You shouldn't have to apologize.”

“Still.” Keith shrugged. “It... I think you should be going, not me.”

“In another universe,” Lance replied. “Go on, Skywalker. Try not to fight everyone to get the answers.”

Keith glanced away, walking toward his pillar.

“I'll try to talk some sense into him,” Keith said.

“Don't bother,” Lance sighed. “It's not you this lesson has to come from.”

Keith stepped into the pillar, giving Lance one last look before the door closed.

The training room was a great way to relax, Lance mused as he punched the gladiator in the face. It was a great way to let out all the tension that was building up, and was certain to exhaust anyone.

The door slid open, and Lance straightened up, stretching. He felt his back crack, and groaned in relief. “End training sequence.”

The three gladiators stiffened, vanishing as the floor beneath them opened up.

“Lance?” Hunk tentatively slid into the room. “Buddy, are you doing alright?”

“Me?” Lance waved his hand, flexing his fingers so they wouldn't be stiff. “Yeah, I'm doing just fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hunk nervously poked his fingers together. “Back there on the bridge–”

“It wasn't a sudden thing,” Lance assured Hunk. “It was one of those things that was bound to happen sooner or later. Just so happened that it happened sooner, is all.”

“But did it have to happen at all?” Hunk asked, looking at Lance worriedly. “Shiro looked really hurt when you did that.”

“Hunk.” Lance walked over to his best friend. “My buddy, my guy. I know. It hurt me too. It still hurts me. You know my feelings about Shiro.”

“I know!” Hunk burst out. “But how could you do that? You just – Lance, I barely recognized you!”

Lance winced. “I'm sorry. I know it's wrong, but... Shiro needs to learn that I'm a part of this team too. And if this is how I can show it to him, then we'll just have to live with it.”

“You know he doesn't feel that way toward you,” Hunk began, and Lance shook his head.

“I really don't.” Lance laughed, cold and empty. “I can barely count on one hand the number of conversations I've had with him since waking up in this universe where he actually listens to me like I'm a real person.”

“Isn't it kind of... cruel, though?” Hunk looked ashamed to say it.

“I don't want to do it, Hunk.” Lance reached out, taking Hunk's face in his hands. “I hate that I have to do this. I hate that this is the only way I can think of to get him to actually listen to me. I hate that so much, and it's – it's breaking my heart. Being in this universe is breaking my heart.”

“Oh, Lance.” Hunk pulled Lance into a tight hug, and Lance felt his vision blur, felt himself come undone. He buried his head in Hunk's shoulder, and let go.

He was just... so exhausted, and as much as he liked that it was Hunk there to comfort him, as much as he enjoyed when Hunk picked him up and gently carried him from the training room...

Lance still wished, deep down, that it was Shiro.

They were in the middle of eating lunch on the bridge when the alarms went off.

“What?” Lance leaped out of the chair. “What's happening? Are we being attacked?”

“No.” Coran pulled up the main screen, where the scanner was showing the Red Lion in motion. “The Red Lion is attacking the base.”

“What?” Lance repeated. “What's Keith thinking? Can we open a channel, talk to him?”

“It's – it's not Keith.” Allura shook her head. “It's the Red Lion attacking the base. Neither Keith nor Shiro are within.”

“Can we still open a channel?” Lance asked, moving toward his seat.

“I could rig something up to piggyback off of the Fraunhofer line the Red Lion gives off, but.” Hunk shrugged. “That would take some time.”

“Then how about you get started.” Lance watched as Red tore into the base, watched as everything literally fell apart in front of his eyes. He saw pieces of the base fly out, getting caught up in the gravity of the star and burning to ash. Lance's gut twisted, and his heart leapt into his throat. “Coran, can you chart a course to the base?”

“Lance no!” Pidge looked up from their console. “You can't be stupid enough to try to fly out there.”

“I'm not being stupid, I'm asking a question!” Lance snapped. “We have no clue what's going on out there, and I seriously doubt that Red would just attack the base if Keith wasn't in serious danger. If they need backup, someone needs to go.” He turned toward Coran. “Do we have a course charted yet?”

“Not yet, Lance,” Coran looked back at Lance, worry and concern heavy in his gaze. “I fear we cannot chart a course without the base using their gravity engine to create a stable pathway.”

“Quiznack!” Lance snarled. “Hunk, how are you going on connecting to Red?”

“You can't rush me!” Hunk groaned, already looking frazzled. “I said this would take time, but did you listen? Nooooooo.”

“Wait!” Allura pointed at the screen. “The Red Lion has stopped.”

“What?” Lance whirled around, panic seeping into his everything as he saw the base, heavily damaged, as he saw Red move to settle down in the base. “That's a good thing, yeah?” Lance turned to look at Allura. “She stopped, so that's good. It means Keith's not in danger anymore?”

It meant Shiro wasn't in danger anymore, Lance wanted to say.

Allura pursed her lips. “It is likely. We should maintain a holding pattern all the same. After such an attack, Keith and Shiro will want to contact us and update us on the situation.”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “Yeah, alright. Let's wait.”

Soon after, the Red Lion began to move away from the base, returning to the Castle.

“Hey, guys,” Shiro's voice called out over the comms. Lance felt the tension in his body slipping away. Shiro was alive. Shiro was safe. “Sorry for worrying you with all that. We, uh, negotiations went a lot more rocky than expected, but I'm going to have to ask that none of you freak out or anything when the Red Lion lands.”

“Why?” Allura asked, her tone sharp. “Coran, open a visual channel.”

“No!” Shiro yelped. “No, that's – that's not necessary, Allura. I just... we aren't traveling alone.”

“You have Galra with you?” Allura said, shocked.

“A couple members of the Blade are with us,” Shiro confirmed. “Also, Keith will need a cryopod.”

“Keith's hurt?” Lance straightened in his chair, turning to look at Allura in shock. “What happened? Is that why Red attacked the base?”

“Lance?” Shiro's voice came through the comms, and he sounded shocked. “Lance, Keith's – it was a misunderstanding. Keith is–”

“Keith is right here, laying in your lap, and would like to avoid getting talked around like he's not in the room.” Keith paused. “Or Lion. Which I am piloting. With some help from Shiro. I kind of got stabbed. In the shoulder. And on the arms. And legs. And just... a little bit of everywhere, but the shoulder is the worst.” Keith paused. “I still have all my limbs attached, though.”

“You get those answers, Skywalker?” Lance asked, relieved.

“Some of them,” Keith replied. “You were right, about knowing for sure about something instead of thinking about it.”

“Wait, he knew–” The comm cut off, likely from Keith's end, and Lance grinned sheepishly as he started walking toward the exit.

“We should go greet them down in Red's hangar, yeah?” Lance chuckled, halfway out the door. “Wouldn't want to keep them waiting. Especially if Keith needs a cryopod.”

Down in the hangar, Lance saw Shiro walk out of Red, Keith in his arms. Keith looked awful, and was wearing some sort of black skintight catsuit, but they both were alive, and Lance could have sobbed with joy. Instead, he started forward, only to be stopped when Allura reached out and took hold of his collar.

“Lance wait.” She gave him a firm glare. “Diplomacy first. Shiro can escort Keith to the medical bay just fine.”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “Yeah.”

Behind Shiro, a half dozen Galra, all dressed the same as Ulaz had been, but wearing masks with distinctive designs, trailed. Lance blinked in surprise when one of them had an actual tail flicking about behind them. The lead Galra reached up, taking off the hood and mask. He had red coloration on his face, and a braid of hair trailing down the side of his head, and a scar narrowly missed his one eye.

“Shiro, stop!” Keith feebly protested. “I can walk myself.”

“Of course you can,” Shiro sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes. “Just like the last three times you said that, and then collapsed the moment I stopped supporting your weight.”

“I can walk myself,” Keith insisted, batting at Shiro with his left hand – his right hand, Lance noted, was kept cradled close to his body. Lance saw his shoulder, saw the huge gash in the suit trailing from the shoulder down, and winced in sympathy. “Besides, I have to explain myself. Otherwise Kolivan's going to say something and I can't have that. I can't.”

Shiro let out a put-upon sigh, stopping before Allura. He jerked his head at the lead Galra, standing beside him. “This is Kolivan. He's the leader of the Blade of Marmora, and he's agreed to an alliance with Voltron.”

“Because of me,” Keith blurted out. “I'm pulling the bandage off this before it becomes a, uh, what did you call it Lance?”

“Mattress of lies?” Lance offered, giving Keith a pointed look. “Are you sure about this? Is this even how you imagined it happening?”

“I imagined a lot worse,” Keith grumbled. “At least this way I don't have to deal with the fallout. I can just go into a cryopod and let you explain everything.”

“What?” Lance squawked. “Hey, unfair!”

“So..” Keith looked at everyone. “They didn't want an alliance at first, but then I got in trouble because I brought my knife with me and... long story short, I'm Galra?”

Lance slapped a hand over his face while Shiro groaned.

“Excuse me?” Allura looked taken aback. “You're what?”

“My mom,” Keith groaned, slumping into Shiro's hold. “She was Galra. So I'm Galra. And now I'm a Blade like she was. So we've got the alliance because of me.”

Keith lost consciousness, and Lance gestured for Coran to start leading them to the medical bay.

“What?” Allura looked from Shiro to Lance for confirmation.

“He speaks the truth,” Kolivan added. “And we must hurry. We've received word from one of our fellows stationed in Zarkon's high command. The time to strike is now.”

“Hold on,” Hunk pointed at Keith. “He's Galra? Like, Galra-Galra?”

“You knew?” Pidge hissed at Lance, staring at him in shock. “How did you know that but not realize I wasn't a boy?”

“Okay first of all, I actually listened to Keith,” Lance began. “And second of all, he told me when I confronted him a couple days ago.” He paused. “Third of all, it's only half Galra. Also, secret heritage connected to an important group. Totally Luke Skywalker.”

“Keith is Galra?” Allura shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe it.”

“He activated his blade,” Kolivan offered. “Only someone with Galra blood can do that.”

“Activated his blade?” Lance squinted. “Wait, you mean that knife his mom left him? It activates? Like, transforms into – what, a larger blade?”

“Exactly.” Kolivan nodded. “My second, Antok, currently has Keith's blade with him.”

“Just like Luke Skywalker,” Lance murmured under his breath. Louder he said, “You mentioned we had to hurry. Why?” He glanced at Keith, still in Shiro's arms. “Actually, why don't we talk on the way to the medical bay. Get Keith the cyropod he needs before he, like, bleeds out.”

Lance gave Allura a pointed look, and she nodded. Lance sighed in relief, thankful that Allura understood the importance of helping Keith as soon as possible. “Of course. Come along. Coran will lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Lance stumbled out of the cryopod and into Shiro's waiting arms. Shiro felt warm, his arms wrapping around Lance and spreading the warmth. His right arm, his robot arm, felt far too warm, and Lance enjoyed it far too much.

It was the third time Lance had been in the cryopod – fourth, technically, but Lance hated to think of that time, because the Castle was trying to kill him so it didn't count – but still the cold stuck within him. It lingered, settling in his bones, and was chased away by Shiro.

“So,” he said, melting into Shiro's comfort. “What did I miss?” His stomach grumbled, and Shiro hummed.

“How about we talk over food goo,” Shiro suggested, and Lance nodded. He stepped away from Shiro's hold, stumbled, and looked back sheepishly.

“Can I get... carried again?” Lance gave Shiro a tentative smile. “The cryopods always leave me feeling a little woozy.”

“No problem.” Shiro chuckled as he reached out to scoop Lance in his arms. “It's dinnertime. I chose to wait here for when you woke up. Everyone wanted to be here but Hunk insisted. He said something about wanting to try out a new recipe he made?”

“Hunk made a new recipe?” Lance blinked in surprise, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, this is going to be tasty. Let's go!”

Shiro laughed, and it warmed Lance almost as much as Shiro himself did. They made it to the door before Shiro stopped, helping Lance back down. “Almost forgot to get you changed back into your clothes.”

Lance paused, glancing from Shiro to his clothes on the floor by the cryopod, to the skintight medical suit he wore. “Well, one of us is going to have to leave.”

“I can look away,” Shiro offered. “You're still a little unsteady. I don't want to leave you alone.”

Lance gave Shiro a soft smile, even as his face erupted in a fiery blush. “I– you– you can't just say things like that!”

Shiro inclined his head. “As you wish.”

Lance felt his blush deepen. “I– Shiro!”

Shiro grinned. “What?”

“You can't just quote The Princess Bride at me!” Lance cried, wanting to bury his face in his hands. “Especially not that line!”

“But what if I want to?” Shiro asked. “What if I like saying it to you?”

“Shiro!” Lance sputtered. “That's just– you can't just–”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, amused and unrepentant. Lance sputtered some more, unable to form a response. Instead, he gestured at the door.

“You want me to leave the room while you get dressed, don't you?” Shiro asked, giving Lance a fond smile. Lance nodded, unable to speak. “As you wish.”

Lance choked out a coughing fit.

Shiro carried Lance into the dining room, where Hunk was presenting a fried patty that smelled oh-so-sweet.

“Alright, so I know that it smells sweet but I swear it tastes spicy,” Hunk was saying. “That Sal guy had a set-up a lot like ours, but his goo was awful. He called it sustenance, for pete's sake!” Hunk teared up. “That's awful. Food shouldn't be called sustenance.”

“Hunk!” Lance cheered up, and he gestured at the table. “You figured out a new recipe from the space mall?”

“Yeah!” Hunk brightened up, before confusion settled on his features. “Wait, how did you know that?”

“Does it have to do with the switchback?” Pidge asked, leaning forward. Keith looked interested too, straightening up in his seat. “You mentioned meeting the other me – does that mean that our Lance was over in the space mall?”

“He was,” Lance confirmed. Shiro set him down, and Lance almost groaned at the loss of warmth. Hunk set down two patties, and Shiro sat down. Lance hesitated, before Shiro snorted, pulling Lance into his lap. Lance eeped, squirming in Shiro's with a light blush on his face. Keith made a face, while Allura and Coran shared a smile. “Y-you and me – your Lance – were sneaking GAC from the fountains.” He made a face when Pidge gaped. “Wait, were you doing that too?”

Pidge startled, before schooling their face into a stony expression. “I will neither confirm nor deny any possible fountain robbery that may or may not have happened in space mall.”

Lance frowned. “I... wasn't being judgey. Honestly, it sounds like one of my ideas. I used to raid the wishing fountains for spare change all the time.” He reached for the patty, before freezing. Lance looked up at Hunk in horror. “Wait. Wait, you didn't kill the cow to make this did you?!”

Hunk gasped, while Pidge put a hand to their chest in affront.

“No!” Pidge glared at Lance. “Porter is very much alive and happy in the, the...”

“Gracklouse wing,” Coran supplied.”Their lower body is quite similar to Porter's, even if their upper body is quite altenoid.” Coran hummed. “Although the pincers can be quite off-putting, Gracklouses are among the most attractive species in the known universe!”

Lance squinted at Coran, trying to imagine the creature he was describing. After a moment, he decided against it, and shook his head clear of those thoughts.

“Porter, huh?” He reached for his spoon, poking at the patty. It broke apart easily, almost gelatinous. “Why did you name the cow that? Also, why did you buy a cow?”

“Kaltenecker,” Shiro corrected. “And she was free with purchase.”

Lance tilted his head, spoon halfway to his mouth, and looked up at Shiro.

“I have so many questions,” Lance began. Shiro shrugged before he got a mischievous glint in his eyes. Locking his gaze onto Lance, he leaned forward to steal the bite of patty from Lance's spoon. Lance found his gaze stuck on Shiro's lips as they wrapped around the spoon, a flash of Shiro's tongue as it pulled the spoon into his mouth. Lance's mouth went dry, and he shifted in Shiro's lap, acutely aware of everything about his lower half and who it sat upon.

Shiro smiled around the spoon, pulling away to leave it clean of food and wet with saliva. Lance swallowed again, his mouth somehow drier than before, if that were possible.

Across the table, Keith made an affronted squawk, then a soft oof when Hunk nudged him in the gut with his elbow just a little too hard. Lance's face lit up a vibrant red, while Shiro looked far too smug as he chewed. He hummed, and swallowed.

“You're right,” Shiro said to Hunk, looking far too smug for his own good. “It is spicy.”

Lance gaped at Shiro, before smirking. “Hungry?”

“It's been a busy day,” Shiro replied, raising his eyebrows speculatively. “But all fun aside, you should eat.”

“I should,” Lance agreed, his smirk growing. “But you gave me an idea.” He took another spoonful of the patty, holding it out for Shiro. “Here.”

Shiro glanced from the spoon to Lance. Keith made gagging noises while Pidge sniggered. Hunk shushed them both.

“You can't seriously be expecting this to happen,” Shiro said, amusement heavy in his voice.

“I'll feed you, and you feed me,” Lance explained, still holding out the spoon. “Seems fair enough.”

Shiro smirked. “As you wish.”

Hunk suppressed his squeal, while Keith aggressively shoveled his plate into his mouth. Keith froze, his eyes going wide and his face going red, and he began to cough. Lance watched it happen, mildly concerned.

“You alright there?” Lance asked, while Shiro reached around him to sneak a spoonful of patty. Keith nodded, but didn't stop coughing. “You're not about to die, are you?” Keith shook his head. “Alright, but I'm pretty sure Hunk or Pidge have first dibs on giving you the breath of life.”

Keith's coughing intensified, and he fell out of his chair. The coughing petered out, and everyone paused.

“I'm not dead,” Keith weakly called out from below the table. A hand appeared over the edge, waving about. “I'm going to just, like, stay down here though. Someone pass me my food.”

“You sure?” Hunk asked, looking down in mild concern. “You were coughing pretty hard there. It wasn't too spicy for you?”

“I inhaled my dinner,” Keith dryly replied, his voice rough but getting stronger. “It wasn't that spicy. I've had tabasco sauce that was spicier.”

Lance nodded, satisfied, and leaned forward to take the spoon Shiro offered. He hummed in surprise – despite the gelatinous look, it was crunchy, and the spice was sharp on his tongue. He hummed, pleased, and smiled at Shiro.

Objectively, Lance knew he shouldn't do this, knew he shouldn't enjoy this, but.

He liked this Shiro. He liked the softness, like the gentleness, like this... thing they had. He knew, too, that it was mostly based around Shiro's own feelings toward the other Lance, but.

Was it really so bad for Lance to enjoy it, while he had it? Was it really so bad for him to enjoy a– a relationship that he was only technically a part of, one that he felt wouldn't exist in his own universe?

“I understand that this is a personal moment for you all, however, I feel we must get down to business,” Allura interrupted, knocking Lance from his thoughts.

Under his breath, Hunk sang, “To defeat. The Huns.”

Stifled laughter came out from under the table, and Lance grinned.

“Lance, you mentioned that you saw our Lance. Can you explain what you meant by that?” Allura fixed Lance with an intense stare, and his grin faded.

“Well, I was bonding with Black, and she showed me her beginning – which, really creepy, zero out of ten, would not recommend a repeat viewing – and... I didn't know Zarkon was friends with your dad.” Lance grimaced as Keith peeked out from under the table, everyone gaping at Allura.

Coran winced. “Yes, well, before the war he was... a very different person.” He shook his head sadly. “Many times King Alfor and I wondered what it was that sent him down this path. At this point I fear we shall never know.”

“...yeah, I think I might know,” Lance admitted, looking away. “I... in the weird flashback thing Black showed me it... felt like she was watching me? And not like the usual presence in the back of my mind way, but... I saw the meteorite crash into that planet and I got the sense that she was looking at me. Like she knew I was there, or something. I don't know if that explains anything, or what, but...” Lance shrugged, helpless.

“That is very odd,” Allura commented. “Father told me stories about Voltron. He said that five stones fell from the sky on five different planets, and that each one carried a vision with it. He said... that was where the idea of taking them and creating Voltron came from. I always thought it a child's tale, but now I do not know.” She frowned. “It seems there are many things I do not know. I only wish...”

She trailed off, and Coran stood, reaching for her. He offered a comforting presence, a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Don't we all,” he murmured. He smiled. “But you know what King Alfor would say. If every Phagglon were Glumbale, we wouldn't have Aggorhan.”

Allura laughed, and Lance glanced at Hunk, completely baffled. Pidge made an exaggerated shrugging motion, and Lance figured it was some Altean culture thing they were never going to figure out.

“Okay, then.” Lance glanced at where Keith was slinking back up into his seat. “So I was bonding with Black and got the whole origin story for Voltron and the Black Lion, and I learned a lot about her.”

“Where does Zarkon come into all this?” Keith asked, leaning forward. At the end of the table, Allura composed herself and gestured for Coran to return to his seat.

“Yes, please explain how you went from bonding with the Black Lion to – how did you call it? Getting into a back-alley brawl with Zarkon.” Allura raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I...” Lance opened and closed his mouth, humming in confusion. “I... actually don't know. Like, one moment I'm watching Black in an old battle and the next Zarkon's looking at me and we're in the astral plane.”

“The... astral plane?” Allura glanced at Coran in confusion. “That is very strange.”

“You know it?” Lance asked. “Because I don't. Zarkon started beating me up and then everything went all... broken mirror.”

“Broken mirror,” Shiro repeated, wrapping an arm around Lance's midsection. Lance reached down, letting his arm overlap Shiro's, letting his hand curl over Shiro's.

“Yeah, and I got looking at the other Lance – your Lance, actually, but I didn't say anything – and then I was back in my body, over in space mall.” Lance pointed at Pidge. “We barely talked, but all I got was that I physically vanished over there before reappearing as me. I don't know if I did it again but... it was kind of strange.” Lance paused. “Oh! Before the body switch thing I swear I saw Shiro!”

“Me?” Shiro stiffened, and Lance shifted around in Shiro's lap so he could properly look at him.

“The other Shiro,” Lance explained. “The one from my universe. He was doing the same thing I was, I'm pretty sure. After I got pulled back to this side, I was next to him. He was pretty concerned about me.”

“I should be,” Shiro mumbled, looking at Lance in concern.

Lance turned toward Allura, wide-eyed. “There were two Zarkons there. The one from this universe and the one from mine. They sort of... merged, I think? Into one Zarkon? It was really strange, but he did break back into two when I lunged and tackled him. After that I kind of just... gained the respect of Black and together we sucker punched Zarkon in the jaw.” Lance shook his head, grinning. “That was a good time. Awful, because he broke my arm and hurt me a lot more besides, but I'm going to cherish the memory of sucker punching Zarkon in the face forever.”

“That's all you have to say on the matter?” Allura asked. Lance nodded. “And you are certain that Zarkon can no longer track us?”

“Black's certain, so I'm certain,” Lance replied, hearing the affronted squawk of a bird in the back of his mind. It followed with pleased cooing, and the sensation of a gentle spring wind. “Which means... we're free to go around saving the universe again.”

“You said Zarkon had a hand in the universe swap,” Shiro said, reaching for Lance's right hand.

“Well, yeah,” Lance said. “I don't know about the corrupted wormhole, but both times since then there's been Zarkon, pressing for control.”

“I have gone over the data we have on the wormhole,” Allura began, uncertain. “Neither Coran nor I have found any indication of foreign energies. It is all Altean. It's as if the wormhole became overloaded with Altean energy and began to collapse in on itself.” Allura shook her head. “Which does not sound possible. I had a hand only in creating the wormhole and it took everything I had at the time to keep it active.”

“Without Altean energy, the teludav cannot keep the wormhole active,” Coran continued. “Whatever Zarkon did to the wormhole, it wasn't from our end, and it greatly resembled Altean energy.”

“It worries me,” Allura stated. “And for that matter, it means we cannot simply defeat Zarkon. Until we know for certain the extent of his hand in this, this–”

“Swap,” Pidge offered.

“Swap,” Allura continued with a nod toward Pidge, “we must plan to capture Zarkon.”

“That won't be easy,” Shiro said. “He's always got several fleets with him.”

“And that ship he's on is huge,” Hunk added. “Like, if we had schematics or something, then I could point out where Voltron could hit so that it's dead in the water, but otherwise...”

Hunk shrugged, and Keith spoke up. “There's still the Blade. We talked about an alliance.”

Shiro nodded. “They're our best bet, and we do need allies.”

“We have allies already,” Allura replied. “The Olkari and the Balmerans are invaluable allies in this war.”

“But it would help to have some Galra on our side,” Lance pointed out. “They've got that whole Galra privilege thing going on. They can get into places without the same kind of suspicion that any of us could.” He paused. “They probably have a lot more respect in some places too. Quiznacking Galra privilege.”

“Lance, leave the space racism topic for another day,” Shiro poked at Lance's stomach, and he squirmed.

“But my point!” Lance whined, shifting to he could face Shiro. He planted his shins on either side of Shiro's thighs, straddling him. Shiro looked at Lance, eyes wide, his face going a deep red. Lance smiled like he didn't know exactly what he was doing.

“I'm going back under the table,” Keith grumbled. After a moment he yelped and said, “Actually, I'm going back to my seat! But I'm not facing the table.”

“Couldn't stand the view?” Lance asked over his shoulder. Keith groaned, long and long-suffering.

“This is what having embarrassing parents feels like, isn't it?” Keith asked the room.

“Exactly,” Pidge reached over, patting Keith sympathetically. “Growing up with it dulls the effect. I am immune.”

“There there,” Hunk added, reaching his arms out toward Keith. “Hug or nah?”

“...not yet,” Keith answered.

“Getting back on point,” Allura interrupted, shooting both sides of the table pointed looks. “We should have a plan in place if we are to form an alliance with this Blade of Marmora.”

“Well, first I'd say using some of that famous Altean diplomacy should help,” Lance offered with a smile. “But in all seriousness, I'd just suggest that we send a message out first. That way we don't have one of them infiltrate the Castle. Again.”

“Oh, we're so doing that,” Pidge chimed in. “We're announcing ourselves.”

“Where are we going to wormhole into?” Hunk nervously asked. “Like, dude, the last base was hidden like a space wonton in front of a bunch of murder crystals. I want to know if we're going to wormhole outside of another supernova.” Hunk shuddered. “That day was so stressful.”

“Same,” Lance agreed. He shifted so his knees were up against Shiro's hips, settling himself down in Shiro's lap. Shiro, if possible, went even redder. “So, Coran, Pidge. Anything on the coordinates when we plug them into the map?”

“Nothing alive, that's for sure,” Pidge replied.

“A trio of stars orbiting one another,” Coran explained. “It's unlikely we'll come across a supernova, as you called it.”

“Awesome,” Hunk breathed, the tension falling away from his shoulders.

“So we'll wormhole in tomorrow?” Lance asked, looking at Allura for confirmation. He leaned back to really look at her, grabbing onto Shiro's shoulder's for support. Shiro let out a quiet wheezing sound, and Lance smugly smirked at him. “We'll do our best diplomacy, gain an alliance, and go from there, yeah?”

Allura sighed, still displeased but resigned. “Of course. It's getting late, and the day has already been long enough for you all. We shall discuss this more after several vargas of rest.”

“Well, I'm going,” Hunk said, pulling away from the table. He scooped Keith up out of the chair, cradling him close. Pidge followed along, one hand reaching up to run their hand through his hair. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

Shiro wheezed out a goodnight, and Allura swiftly left the room, citing that the mice were tired and she wanted to affix her hair for the evening. Coran gave them an appraising look and nodded.

“Do be careful,” Coran said as he stepped out of the room. “While the chairs are capable of holding a much greater weight than you both, they are not indestructible.”

Lance squeaked, his face turning a flaming red. He glanced at Shiro, who was looking just as embarrassed as Lance, before realizing that he was still straddling Shiro, that he'd been straddling Shiro for almost the entire conversation.

Practically leaping off of Shiro, Lance awkwardly cleared his throat.

“So...” he began, unsure what to say, after such a display. “I, uh, speaking from experience, coming out of the cryopod doesn't really leave you feeling tired or anything so I should, uh, go. Maybe practice against the gladiator bot. Get myself all exhausted. You should go... visit Porter or something. Make sure we haven't scarred Keith for life.”

Lance rushed toward the door, but Shiro was there, reaching out for him. “Lance wait!”

“I should go.” Lance tried to dodge Shiro's arms, but had his hand taken by Shiro's. He stumbled, spinning into Shiro's arms. He struggled, but Shiro's gentle grip held tight. “Let me go.”

“Not yet,” Shiro replied, hugging Lance close. “You're upset.”

“I'm not,” Lance petulantly replied, the lie sounding weak even to him.

“Something's bothering you.” Shiro loosened his hold to let Lance look at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lance shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't, knew that if he started, he wouldn't stop.

“I... this feels wrong.” Lance tilted his head, using his gaze to gesture at their position. “This. Us. I feel like I'm pushing myself onto your relationship with your Lance.”

“Is that it?” Shiro chuckled, and Lance felt it rumble through himself, felt something like butterflies in his stomach. “Lance, you're the same person he is. The exact same person. It's not weird or wrong to feel that way.”

“You keep saying that I'm the same person as him, but you're really not the same person as my Shiro.” Lance shook his head. “You're – you're so... relaxed.”

Shiro hummed, pulling Lance close. Nuzzling Lance's hair, Shiro murmured, “That's because I have you.”

Lance went bright red. “A-and that! How can you just say stuff like that!”

“Because of you,” Shiro replied. “You pulled me out of a bad place before I could get worse.”

Lance thought about the Shiro from his own universe, thought about how closed off he was. He tried to imagine doing this, openly cuddling – or cuddling at all – with that Shiro, and couldn't.

“I think I told you,” Lance said, his voice growing thick. He didn't want to cry over this, didn't want to cry over a relationship he knew wouldn't be there when he returned. “We aren't close over in my universe. We barely talk to each other outside of missions and training. I'm trying to imagine doing any of this with the other you and I can't. He's nothing like you, Shiro, and I just– I can't–”

“Takashi.” His voice was soft, thrumming deep within Lance and leaving him with a comforting, dizzying warm sensation in his chest. “Call me Takashi.”

Lance felt the first tears fall. “Takashi.” He laughed, wet and thick. “I can't imagine Shiro – the, the other Shiro, not you – ever letting me call him that.”

“I'm Takashi,” Shiro – no, Takashi gently murmured.

“I'm afraid of going back,” Lance admitted. “I want to stay.” He bit back a sob, buried his face in Shir– Takashi's shoulder to muffle the sound. He pulled away with a shuddering gasp. “I want to stay here.”

“Why?” Takashi shifted his grip, one hand reaching to take gentle hold of Lance's chin, tilting his head up so he could see the concern in Takashi's eyes.

“Be-because,” Lance gulped, trying to catch a breath he didn't have, “you're here. A-and when I get back, Shiro won't – he won't be like you.”

“He will be.” Takashi smiled, and it was full of such love and trust that Lance could scarcely imagine it ever being directed at him.

“What makes you think that?” Lance wiggled an arm free and wiped at his eyes. “Shiro isn't anything like you.”

“He's everything like me,” Takashi replied, letting go of Lance's chin and just as gently taking Lance's hand in his own. Takashi's thumb wiped away the tear tracks. “And my Lance is exactly like you. He got through to me once. I have every bit of faith that he can do it again with your Shiro.”

“If he could do it, then why didn't I do it?” Lance asked.

“I... I don't know.” Takashi shook his head, a frown on the edge of his lips. “You made an active effort to get me to open up because you're the Black Paladin. You said we were family now. I can only guess what stopped you in your universe.”

“I'm the Black Paladin, huh?” Lance chuckled. “I guess that's it. You went from being this big hero I admired and chased after to being the decisive head of Voltron while I'm just... the Blue Paladin.”

“Hey!” Takashi balked at that, leaning forward to touch his forehead with Lance's. “I take offense at that. I'm the Blue Paladin here, and that's just as important as anyone else. Faith and trust and all that. Allura explained.”

“Not in my universe.” Lance grinned, a wan smile. “I interrupted her.” His smile faded. “Faith and trust?”

“And the glue that pulls everyone together,” Takashi added. “The leg that keeps Voltron standing. It takes a pilot that can bring everyone together. Someone that everyone else can rally behind because they trust them. Someone that inspires faith. If our universes were missing us, the whole team would fall apart.”

Lance... he hadn't thought of it that way. He hadn't realized. That he would be so important to the team, that he would be so important to Voltron...

“You make me sound so important.” Lance grinned, something much wider, something more real. “Figures all it would take to realize how important I am is to come to another universe.”

“Don't think like that,” Takashi admonished. “All this did was give you a different perspective.”

“Still.” Lance's grin faded, just a little. “I didn't reach out to him.”

“I'm stubborn, Lance,” Takashi said, smiling. “It took you the better part of a month – and nearly dying – to get me to realize that I should open up to you.”

“You shouldn't do that.” Lance glanced away, but Takashi squeezed his hand.

“We've already been over this,” he sighed. “Come on. I'll help you train. That way we're not not talking circles for the rest of the night.”

Lance nodded. They broke apart, hands still twined as they moved toward the hallway.

“Actually...” Lance spoke up. “Can we just go back to our room? I keep crying and it takes a lot out of me.”

“Absolutely,” Takashi replied. “And don't worry. You'll feel a lot better in the morning. I just know it.”

True to his word, Lance did feel much better, both about himself and about his place in the team. He greeted Takashi with a grin and the two of them ate a hurried breakfast as they rushed to the bridge where everyone was waiting for them.

Keith was quietly sitting in his seat, gripping the arms as tightly as he could, while Hunk and Pidge were chattering about adjusting the Galra scanner to fit the BLIP tech. Allura saw Lance and Takashi enter the room, and nodded.

The Castle exited the wormhole to the most amazing sight.

“Well those aren't three stars.” Lance glanced at Takashi, grinning from ear to ear. “This is so awesome. Space is amazing.”

“Two black holes,” Hunk murmured.

“How?” Pidge asked. “They're just – on either side of that blue star. How?”

“So awesome,” Lance said. He glanced at Coran. “Can you open a channel?”

“Already on it.” Coran gestured for Lance to take his place. “Short-range burst on all frequencies. Nothing that will leave this system.”

“Good.” Lance left Takashi at the blue seat as he went over to his own, pulling up the console. “Let me know when we're good to transmit.”

“In three... two... one...” Coran gestured at Lance, who cleared his throat.

“This is the Castle of Lions seeking the Blade of Marmora. We were directed here by one of your members, Ulaz, with the intent of making an alliance.” Lance tried his hardest to put his business voice first, over the elation that he was living the dream of becoming Captain Kirk. “We both want Zarkon gone, and together Voltron and the Blade can do exactly that. We'll be maintaining a holding pattern out here, and please be advised to announce any boarding parties you send our way. We don't want to start negotiations off on a bad note.”

Lance gestured, and Coran closed the comm. The moment they were in the clear, Lance doubled over laughing.

“Lance, be serious here,” Allura snapped. “We are about to broker a treaty with an unknown group of Galra.”

“I'm doing my best,” Lance replied, forcing his laughter to die off. “But I've wanted to do that for a long time.” He grinned. “I've finally become Captain Kirk.”

Allura opened her mouth to reply when the main screen beeped.

“Incoming message,” Coran announced. Up on the main screen, Galra script appeared.

“Pidge, translate,” Allura called out. “In Altean as well, now that you know it.”

“On it.” Pidge tapped at their console, and the message glitched out, reappearing in English. “Hold on, I'll have it up in Altean in a moment. Still coding that part of the translator.”

“It's alright,” Lance called out. “It's a short message. They want two people to come. Unarmed.”

“I do not like the idea of that,” Allura said, frowning. “Coran?”

“Flight data came with the message.” Coran pulled up the data, overlapping it with the view of the black holes and star. Lance frowned. “It's a narrow passage, but it can be made with the right skill. Although the path will only be open for a brief time. Then it will close for... 40 vargas, it looks like.”

“Two quintants?” Lance asked. Coran confirmed with a nod, and Lance grimaced. “That doesn't sound good.”

“I'll be going,” Lance said. He glanced at Allura. “It's probably for the best that the head of Voltron be there for all the negotiating.”

“I suppose Coran and I will have to remain.” Allura frowned. “Two quintants... that does not sound appealing, but we will not have a choice.”

“So it'll be me and...” Lance looked at Takashi, then at Keith. “Keith.”

“What?” Keith froze. “Me?”

“If this goes pear-shaped, I'd like to have you by my side.” He paused. “Also, if this goes pear-shaped, Red's the fastest lion and she likes you best. I'd prefer speed going to and from there.” Lance turned toward Takashi. “I know I should bring you, but... I'd feel safer if you were here watching over the Castle with the others. Be the leader when I'm not here, yeah?”

Takashi nodded. Keith stiffly got up, moving toward the Red Lion's pillar. Lance followed behind, lagging when he passed by Takashi, who reached out for Lance's hand.

“Stay safe,” Takashi murmured, pulling Lance's hand up to kiss his knuckles. In the background, Hunk wolf-whistled while Lance's brain short-circuited. His face lit up in a flaming blush.

“I– you too,” Lance stumbled out, walking over to Keith's side in a daze. His hand still tingled where Takashi had kissed it.

“Put your armor on, you sappy dork,” Keith growled, stepping up to get his own armor on. “Meet me in Red's hangar in ten doboshes.”

“I– yes.” Lance nodded. “Armor. Yes.”

“So did you pick me for any special reason?” Keith asked as Lance peered over his shoulder.

“Beyond what I said?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “I figured it was obvious to you.”

Keith glanced at the base ahead, then looked up at Lance uncertainly. “...is it because I'm Galra?”

“It's because you might be Galra,” Lance confirmed. “Also I doubt we're going to be spending all two days doing negotiations, and figured you'd want to talk with their leader, see if whoever it is knows anything.”

Keith stared at Lance. “That's... a really good idea.”

“I do have them on occasion,” Lance replied. “Maybe more often in this universe, but I do have them.”

Keith chuckled, and smirked the entire trip to the base. Once there, they left Red behind on the surface as they took a secret elevator down below.

Lance saw how all of the Marmorites wore masks, and wondered if it was more of an aspect of their group than for anything else. With the masks, one couldn't tell who was who.

“You are representatives of Voltron,” the head honcho – or Lance figured he was, since he was who they were being led toward. His mask looked much like everyone else's, and his blade sat at his hip. “I am Kolivan, leader of the Blade of Marmora.”

“I'm Lance,” Lance introduced himself. “And this is Keith. We're here on behalf of Voltron.”

“Naturally,” Kolivan dryly replied. “Unfortunately, Ulaz has misled you. We will not be creating an alliance with you.”

“What.” Lance stared at Kolivan in disbelief. “Hold the phone. Did you just – You seriously just had us travel here, where we have to stay for two quintants, just to say you're not interested in an alliance?”

“Yes,” Kolivan bluntly replied. “It was originally my intent to form an alliance, but seeing as you violated our terms and brought, I decided against it.”

“Brought a weapon?” Lance looked around the room, baffled. “Are you talking about Re–” Lance froze, turning to look at Keith flatly. “You brought it with you, didn't you?”

“He came armed,” Kolivan confirmed before Keith could open his mouth. One of the Blades came forward, knocking Keith to the ground and pulling Keith's blade out. Lance reacted, moving to break Keith free, but was held back by a pair of Blades. “And with one of our blades. We will be taking it back, and the both of you will be leaving now.”

“You're not taking it, it's mine!” Keith growled, struggling against the Blade. Kolivan held up a hand, and turned toward Lance. “I've always had it!”

“Can you corroborate?” Kolivan asked. “Does this blade truly belong to him?”

“It does.” Lance glared at Kolivan. “And he's not leaving it behind.”

“If it truly belongs to you,” Kolivan began, turning his attention on Keith. “Then you must go through the Trials of Marmora. Only then will you be allowed to keep it.” He paused. “If you pass the trials, then you will become a fellow Blade.”

“Will you accept the alliance too?” Lance asked. “We're not leaving without that either. Even if I have to charm the pants off of you to get it.”

“That won't be necessary,” Kolivan replied. He gestured, and one of the Blades came forward – one of the same ones that met Lance and Keith outside the base. This Blade, Lance noted, had a tail. “This is my second. He will oversee the Red Paladin's preparations for the trials. You and I shall go to the viewing area, where we will discuss this coming alliance.”

“Will I get my answers?” Keith snarled, snatching back his knife when the Blade let go of him. “If I pass your trials, will I finally learn about why I have this knife?”

Kolivan tilted his head. “You will.”

Keith grinned. “Good. I'll do it.”

Lance watched Keith enter the room, facing off against one of the Blade. “He's not going to die, is he?”

“The trials are not meant to kill,” Kolivan answered. “He will get injured, yes, but death will not occur.” Kolivan turned to look at Lance. “This would not be much of an organization if we were in the habit of killing new recruits. Knowledge or death, that is the purpose of the trial.”

“Knowledge or death?” Lance glanced back at the screen, where Keith was sent reeling back, his right shoulder bleeding from a long gash. “You said he wouldn't get hurt!”

“I said he wouldn't die.” Kolivan straightened up. “I didn't say he wouldn't get hurt.”

Lance saw Keith lose against the Blade, saw him get asked a question, before the Blade pulled away and gestured at the door on the far end of the room. “I don't – what's the point of these trials? He didn't win, why is he going forward?”

“The point?” Kolivan hummed as Keith faced off against two members of the Blade, still injured. “It is a test of loyalty. We push the initiate to the limits of physical exertion, after which the suit activates.”

“The suit?” Lance looked down at the catsuit Keith was wearing. “What do you mean, it activates?”

“It creates a psychic link to the wearer, showing them, at the point of physical exhaustion, what they most desire to see at that moment.” Kolivan pointed at the screen. “He is skilled with the blade.”

“His bayard turns into a sword, he should be,” Lance replied. “You called it a test of loyalty.”

“I did.” Kolivan canted his head, not taking his gaze away from Keith's battle. Soon enough, Keith was allowed to go forward, facing off against three of the Blade. “The initiate is given a command as the beginning and at the end of each battle. Surrender the Blade and the pain will cease. The intent is to test the resolve of the initiate. Can they be trusted to not give up the Blade – that is, the Blade of Marmora – when placed under physical and mental distress.”

“Wait, what?” Lance looked away from where Keith held his own against the three Blades. “Distress?”

“Yes.” Kolivan nodded. “We keep our secrets, even to the death. That is what we test the initiates on.”

“You're going to put him through torture?” Lance stared at the screen in horror, where Keith was moving on to a room with four of the Blade.

“He is perfectly safe,” Kolivan repeated. “Keith is in no harm of death.”

“That's not the point!” Lance growled. “You can't just put someone through torture. Stop the trials.”

“I cannot.” Kolivan gestured at the screen. “Once the trials have begun, only he can stop them.”

“But you're the leader here,” Lance snarled. “When you tell them to do something, they have to respect you enough to do it!”

“And that is indeed true,” Kolivan admitted. “However, in this instance not even my orders can stop this. He must learn for himself what it means to be a Blade.”

Lance paced the room, watching as Keith fought against the Blade. “He won't stop until he collapses.”

“Then we shall wait for that time.” Kolivan turned toward Lance. “Until then, shall we discuss the details of our alliance?”

Lance gave one last look at the screen. “I'm not leaving this room, unless it's to go to Keith.”

“Very well.” Kolivan nodded. “Then let us begin.”

What felt like hours later, Lance felt much more secure in an alliance with the Blade. Keith, meanwhile, had managed to accumulate more and more injuries all over, facing off against a larger and larger number of the Blade.

Lance watched Keith step into the next room, expecting him to face off against nine of the Blade, but instead the room remained empty.

No, not empty.

Lance froze, staring down as Shiro – as Takashi approached Keith.

“What.” Lance turned toward Kolivan. “What is that?”

“As I said, the suit shows the wearer what they most desire to see,” Kolivan explained. “And what he desires to see appears to be the Blue Paladin.”

“What the quiznack.” Lance turned toward Kolivan. “This isn't what he signed on for. Let him keep the blade, tell him whatever you want, but this is done. Take me to Keith.”

“I cannot,” Kolivan replied, and the base shuddered. “What was that?”

A Blade rushed to the door as the base rumbled, and Lance saw the fake Takashi turn away from Keith, who had collapsed on the floor.

“Sir!” the Blade looked from Lance to Kolivan. “The Red Lion, it's attacking.”

“Take me to Keith,” Lance demanded. “Now.”

“I cannot,” Kolivan insisted. “This is not how the trials are meant to go.”

Lance growled as the base rumbled and shuddered. “These trials have gone apples and bananas. Take me to Keith and call a stop to them. As soon as he's safely away from that place, Red will stop trying to get to him.”

“That beast cares for him that much?” Kolivan asked. “How would it know that he is in mental distress?”

Lance glanced at the screen, where Keith was back in his shack in the desert, speaking to what must be his father. “The Lions have a psychic bond, now take me to Keith.”

“No.” Kolivan looked at the screen. “The trials are nearly done.”

Lance lunged at Kolivan, only to be snatched out of the air and set aside. The base rumbled, shaking, and Lance rolled into another leap. He grabbed Kolivan's blade, drawing it as he clung onto the Blade's torso. He placed the blade to Kolivan's neck, still a threat even after it transformed into a small hunting knife.

“Knowledge or death, huh?” Lance mused, pressing the blade against Kolivan's neck. “How about I use my knowledge to make this stop, and you don't die?”

Kolivan stared up at Lance.

“Very well,” Kolivan conceded. “I will take you to him.”

Lance pulled the knife away. “Good.”

“...so,” Lance said, carefully setting Keith in his lap on Red's seat. “On a scale of I-told-you-so to I'm-not-mad-I'm-disappointed, where would you like me to start?”

Keith winced. “Can't I just pilot Red back to the Castle?”

“You could,” Lance said, “but you're bleeding and bruised and look like you're about to pass out. So I'm going to help pilot Red. Also, we're going to figure out how to explain this to Allura and Shiro.”

“And the alliance,” Kolivan added, his second at his side.

“I do not care,” Lance coldly replied, helping guide Red on the way back to the Castle. “I'm getting my guy medical attention before we talk anything about an alliance.”

“Wait.” Keith shifted at Antok. “What was the point of the trials? I wanted to learn about my mom. You said I'd find the answer.”

“The trials were a sham, Keith,” Lance growled. “They just wanted to put you under a lot of distress to test your loyalty to the Blade.”

“What?” Keith glanced at Lance, then at Antok. “That can't be right.”

“It is,” Kolivan confirmed. “We had a very heated discussion about it.”

“He's right, now sit back, relax, and listen as I talk Allura out of murdering the Galra we're taking back with us.” Lance tapped at the console, pulling up the comms to the Castle. “Guys, hey!”

“Lance!” Takashi called out, concerned. “You're alright!”

“I am,” Lance answered. “I've also got some good news, and some less good news. Good news: we've got that alliance, and we're coming back with the leader of the Blade to discuss the details of a big plan to attack Zarkon.”

“That is good news!” Allura cried.

“What's the less good news?” Hunk asked. “Is Keith alright? He's alright, isn't he?”

“I'm alive,” Keith called out. “A little banged up, but alive.”

“Yeah, Keith kind of... got injured. A lot.” Lance winced. “He's going to need a cryopod before we can talk all the alliance details.”

“What?” Hunk cried, and Keith winced. “Keith's hurt?”

“How did he get hurt?” Pidge asked. “What did you guys do, fight the entire Blade?”

Lance glanced at Keith, who was looking away from the console in shame. “That's a long story I'd rather tell when we land. Some stuff is better told in person, yeah?”

“We'll meet you in the main hangar,” Shiro replied, and the call ended.

“We're going to have to tell them,” Lance said. “Everyone's going to worry.”

“I know,” Keith admitted. “But I just... I don't know how.”

“Well, I have an idea,” Lance offered.

“Is it a good idea?” Keith asked.

“It's an idea,” Lance repeated.

Keith stared at Lance. “No.”

“You haven't even heard it.” Lance spotted the Castle, and guided Red toward the main hangar. “I was going to carry you out and tell Shiro that our child is a Galra. Like, congratulations, he's a Galra!”

Kieth's eyes widened in horror. “No.”

“Fine.” Lance sighed. “What ideas do you have?”

“Telling them, then leaving you to explain it all?” Keith offered. Lance hummed.

“Bland and cold-hearted.” Lance nodded, helping Keith land Red. “But I'll take it. It's not like you're going to be able to actually answer any questions. Like I said, you look like you're about to pass out.”

“Then let's get moving,” Keith grumbled, attempting to get to his feet. Lance intervened, swinging Keith's left arm over his shoulder and hefting most of Keith's weight onto his shoulders.

“You're very dense and I will forever hate that about you,” Lance commented. “Also I am now even more impressed with Hunk's ability to deadlift you like you weigh nothing. He continues to live up to his nickname.”

“He does,” Keith agreed, already flagging. Lance shifted Keith, bumping him awake.

“Whoa there.” Lance helped Keith down out of Red's mouth, where Hunk ran forward to take Keith away from Lance's hold. “Here, hold your boyfriend.”

“Keith!” Hunk cried, cradling Keith gently. “What happened?”

“So...” Keith looked over at everyone as they rushed to see him. “Turns out my dad wasn't being religious when he pointed up at the sky and said that my mom was up there.”

“What?” Allura looked from Keith to Lance. “What is he talking about?”

“Did you hit your head?” Hunk cried. Trying to see if Keith was bleeding from the skull.

“A little bit, but that's not important.” Keith reached out, touching Pidge's face. “I just lived out the Empire Strikes Back.”

“What?” Pidge squinted. “Are you sure the head wound isn't important?”

Lance groaned. “He's got a concussion. And he's part Galra. From his mom. Who is a Galra.”

“Thank you, Lance,” Keith said, his eyes fluttering shut. “I'm going to nap. Hunk is very comfy.”

“Keith is a Galra?” Allura looked from Lance to Kolivan and back to Keith suspiciously.

“Like, Galra-Galra?” Hunk asked, already on the move toward the med bay. “Coran, let's ready the cryopod!”

“What other kind of Galra is there, Hunk?” Lance asked, following along and gesturing for everyone to go with it.

“I don't know,” Hunk called back. “Partial Galra?” He paused when nobody else was moving. “Hey, let's go! My boyfriend is literally bleeding in my arms and I want to get him to the cryopod.”

“There are those who mixed with other species,” Kolivan chimed in. He reached up, removing his hood and mask and bowing before Allura. “Princess, I am honored to join in an alliance with you.”

“I... am flattered, really,” Allura replied, unsure what to say, glancing at where Hunk was pacing impatiently.

“I said healing Keith first, alliance stuff after,” Lance growled at Kolivan. “Let's get a move on, people. It's been a long day and I want everyone to be in the same room so I don't have to explain Keith's life choices and what he's gone through multiple times.”

He waved a hand, and everyone moved after him as he led the way to the med bay with Hunk.

Chapter Text

Shiro stared at the cryopod once Keith was settled inside. He looked hurt, looked like he wanted to talk with Keith the entire trip to the med bay, but he couldn't.

Lance, to an extent, understood. He wanted to go over to Shiro, wanted to talk with him and explain why it was that Keith had gone to Lance and not him. He wanted to help Shiro understand.

But he couldn't, not with this Shiro. Not with the relationship – or lack thereof – this Shiro had with his Lance. Not with how this Shiro treated his Lance.

“So what's the plan here?” Lance turned to see Allura staring down Kolivan, Hunk nervously looking from Allura to Kolivan to Shiro and Keith. “Does Keith Kogane is Galra? Do we have a plan here?”

“That's what we're trying to figure ou–” Pidge paused, squinting at Hunk suspiciously. “...did you seriously just ask that?”

Hunk wiggled his shoulders in a nervous shrug, animatedly working himself up. “It's a legitimate question! Does Keith Kogane is Galra? Like, is he really a Galra or is it just that he passed some kind of test by fighting all the Galra so now he's an honorary Galra or something?”

“He's seriously Galra,” Lance replied, glancing at Antok's belt, where Keith's blade was kept. “His mom gave him that knife, which is made from a metal that isn't found on Earth. Also, it has the Blade of Marmora symbol on it.”

“He activated the Blade,” Antok replied, reaching down to brush his fingers over the hilt. “Only one with Galra blood can do that. He is truly of Galra descent.”

“Wait wait wait.” Hunk held up his hands. Kolivan tried to share an exasperated look with Allura, but she was still staring him down. “I want to know how Lance knew. Like, before the confrontation.”

“Paladins!” Allura snapped, and Shiro pulled away from the cryopod to face Allura with a hard expression. “Now is not the time. Kolivan, you said we had limited time. Explain yourself.”

“The Blade has an agent within Zarkon's high command,” Kolivan replied. “He was the one who shut down the stellar barrier. He is the reason you were able to escape.” Kolivan turned to look at all of them. “And it is because of that, that his presence there is in danger.”

“The life of a single Galra is not worth the lives of Voltron's Paladins,” Allura coldly declared. “No matter what we may owe him, we will not mount a rescue.”

“Of course not.” Kolivan refocused on Allura. “Thace is in the unique position of providing a means of crippling Zarkon's ship. If Voltron is anything like the legends proclaim, the Blade would like to offer our services to remove Zarkon from his throne.”

“If you've got someone that close to him, then why not poison him or something?” Lance asked. “Go full Game of Thrones on him.”

“I don't know what that means.” Kolivan glanced at Allura and Coran, but they looked just as lost as him. “However, it cannot be done. The witch would know.”

Lance shuddered, while Shiro flinched hard. “Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want that. That witch is scary.”

Shiro started, looking at Lance wide-eyed. “You– you fought her? In your universe?”

Lance nodded, wary. He wanted to avoid it, wanted to speak normally, but he couldn't. Not yet. “Of course, Captain Shirogane. We had the same injuries, sir.”

Shiro flinched, glancing away guiltily.

“I don't understand,” Kolivan glanced from Lance to Shiro to Allura. “What does he mean by that. What universe?”

“The wormhole we used to get away was compromised somehow,” Shiro explained before Allura could. “There was a transdimensional switch with our Blue Paladin – our Lance – and another universe's Lance.”

“We think Zarkon's behind it,” Lance added. “Seeing as, like, I've switched back every time we've crossed paths with Zarkon. And I'm pretty sure the corrupted wormhole was his problem too.”

“For that reason alone, we need to capture Zarkon,” Allura finished, although she looked like she'd swallowed a lime. “We will defeat him, but we need him alive.”

“It will not be easy,” Kolivan replied. “And I would prefer that Zarkon not survive the assault, but...” he looked at Lance. “Is this necessary to Voltron?”

Lance looked at Allura, looked for her to interrupt, to say that it was.

“It is,” Shiro answered, drawing everyone's attention with how strongly he said it. Lance felt something in his chest tighten at seeing Shiro so determined, at hearing him so serious – for Lance, because of Lance. “Every member of Voltron is as important as the last. We're taking down Zarkon, but we need him alive. We need our Blue Paladin back.”

“But you have been able to form Voltron.” Kolivan glanced at Lance, sizing him up. “We have heard reports from Thace as well as others.”

“We have,” Shiro agreed. “But that doesn't mean that this isn't our teammate. Help us get our teammate back by defeating Zarkon.”

“Your altruism and loyalty to one another is... admirable,” Kolivan admitted. “However, our interests intersect in that we desire Zarkon out of power.”

“You want Zarkon to be Zar-gone,” Hunk said, and Lance grinned, offering Hunk a fist to bump. Shiro covered his mouth, but his snickers could still be heard, while Pidge doubled over to hide their laughter.

Kolivan shared a long-suffering look with Antok. “ These are the universe's greatest hope?”

“Fate enjoys its fun.” Antok tilted his head. “...although I suspect it is a cultural thing.”

“It's a pun,” Lance explained, smiling. “A fun bit of word play. You know, Zar kon , Zar- gone . Because you want Zarkon gone.”

His grin faded at Kolivan and Antok's blank stares, although Allura was narrowing her eyes in thought and Coran was nodding along.

“We need a plan,” Allura continued, as though that digression hadn't happened. “Every time we've encountered Zarkon, he has had several battalions of fleets with him. Voltron will have to take all of them down, which it cannot at this time,” Allura shot each of the paladins a pointed look, like she expected them to be better than they were, “or we will have to somehow isolate Zarkon's ship from the battalions.”

“Oh!” Hunk held up a hand. “What if a giant teludav? And we just, like, wormhole Zarkon away?”

“It's possible,” Pidge added. “I've been all over our teludav, and it's actually pretty simple technology. The Olkari could help build a giant teludav too.”

“The teludav needed to wormhole Zarkon's command ship would be massive.” Coran waved his arms out in a wide circle. “It would be larger than the Castle of Lions. The calculations required to set the scaultrite lenses would be unheard of.”

“So you can't do it?” Shiro asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I can do it!” Coran puffed up, affronted. “By Alfalfor's Mighty Beard, I can perform the calculations, don't you worry.”

Lance squinted at Coran. He shared a suspicious look with Pidge, and they glanced at Allura. She didn't even twitch at the name, which meant that Coran wasn't kidding about this one. Lance figured that the whole thing about Altea's rain being flaming meteorites wasn't entirely true after a very heated discussion with his teammates, but without a way to gently confront Coran about it, they had to rely on Allura to determine what was and wasn't true about Altea.

“Of course, we'd need scaultrite lenses for it,” Coran added. “A teludav of that size would require more than we have on hand.”

Hunk tensed up. “Don't say we're harvesting, don't say we're harvesting,” he chanted under his breath.

“Why, I'd say it would be too many lenses to find anywhere.” Coran hummed. “We'd have to harvest the scaultrite from the nearest weblum.”

“Quiznack,” Hunk cursed under his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, crossing his fingers on both hands. Lance watched in mild bemusement as Hunk chanted, “Not me, not me, not me, not me.”

“Hunk!”

“ Quiznack! ” Hunk murmured, with great feeling. He looked at Coran, pasting a smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Since you were such a great help getting the Castle's new crystal on the Balmera, I can fully trust you and the Yellow Lion to lead the other Paladins in harvesting the scaultrite.” Coran looked so pleased, and Lance couldn't understand why Hunk was reacting the way he was.

“We'll have to hide the teludav so Zarkon doesn't suspect a trap,” Pidge said. “And I don't think I can create cloaking tech that good or that large.”

“We can offer the services of our engineer, Slav,” Kolivan offered. “He can create a gravity engine capable of hiding both the teludav and this ship.”

“Great!” Lance looked around. “Then let's go get the scaultrite!”

“There is a problem,” Antok added. “A missive was received within the last spicolian movement. Slav was captured by the empire. We have the location of his prison, but it is under heavy guard. He will need extraction, which we cannot do.”

“And why can you not do it yourselves?” Allura asked, a bit harsher than Lance wished she would be.

Kolivan shook his head. “We don't know anything more than his location. How heavy his guard is or whether the prison itself can be broken into by our operatives is completely unknown.”

“Blue can do it,” Lance spoke up. He stepped forward, looking at Shiro. He felt like his stomach was going to consume itself. “Blue has sonic waves. I can use it to map the prison from a safe distance. Without anyone inside knowing.”

“I can hack the security,” Pidge added.

Shiro glanced at Lance, then at the cryopod that held Keith. Lance's gut tightened further. “If you're looking for someone to open doors, then I guess Keith can–”

“Keith will be going with Hunk to collect the scaultrite,” Allura interrupted. “You will lead the mission to get this Slav.”

“I – yes, Princess.” Shiro nodded, looking put-upon.

“Then we shall return to our base,” Kolivan said. “Thace has sent us blueprints of the command ship. We can share it with you, direct you to it's weak points so it can be effectively crippled.”

“What about it's defenses?” Hunk asked. “Like, Zarkon's ship can't be defenseless. It's got it's own ion cannons and everything. How are we going to stop that?”

Pidge froze, a grin spreading along their face. “It's simple. We're going to Independence Day them, Hunk.”

“Is this another human cultural reference?” Kolivan asked, already lost. Lance shared a lost look with Hunk.

“It is,” Shiro groaned, giving Pidge a pleading look. “It's Commander Holt's favorite movie. And you cannot be suggesting that we just–”

“Give me two hours,” Pidge declared. “Two hours, and I can have a virus written up that will take down Zarkon's command ship. We're going to Independence Day Zarkon all the way to woblay.”

“Don't test it on the Castle,” Lance groaned, before pausing. He looked at Shiro. “Are we going along with that idea, sir?”

Shiro grimaced, looking like he wanted to say something to Lance. He glanced at Kolivan and Antok before sighing. “If we can get a virus to Thace, can he upload it and take down Zarkon's ship?”

“It would take some maneuvering on his part, but yes,” Kolivan looked from Shiro to Lance curiously. “I must admit, I am curious about the universe you come from, Blue Paladin. Is the Voltron there more militaristic?”

“No,” Lance replied, looking at Shiro. “ The only difference there is that I'm the Black Paladin and Captain Shirogane is the Blue Paladin.”

Shiro's winced, grimacing.

“Well isn't that something,” Kolivan said in return, looking pointedly from Lance to Shiro. “Very well. We will accept the terms of this alliance. Together, Zarkon will finally be defeated.” He turned away. “Antok and I will need to return to our base to pick up the blueprints and the coordinates of Slav's prison. It will take several vargas.” He glanced at the cryopod. “If we are lucky, Keith will be healed by then. We have no time to lose.”

“Coran and several of our paladins can show you to our hangar,” Allura stiffly replied. “You may borrow one of our podships, if it is possible. Otherwise, the Black Paladin can pilot the Red Lion back to your base. The temperature extremes can be quite volatile, and the Red Lion can handle the extreme heat.”

“No need,” Kolivan waved her off, giving her a curious look. “The passage is one of low risk. The temperature along the passage is safe for any ship to fly through. There are no temperature extremes. An Altean podship is more than enough.”

“No temperature extremes, yeah?” Lance hummed, pointedly looking at Shiro. “How about those apples. You could have taken literally any of the Lions to the base, Captain Shirogane.”

Shiro looked away, looked something close to ashamed.

“Drag him later, Lance,” Pidge said, flopping on the floor and setting up their laptop. “I need all my attention on making this virus, and I can't do that if I also want to watch you drag Shiro to woblay and back.”

“Pidge!” Hunk hissed. “You can't just do that! Conflict resolution, Pidge. Conflict. Resolution!”

“I have no Voltron clue what you're talking about,” Pidge flatly replied.

“He's not dragging me!” Shiro squawked, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He coughed, pointedly looking at Pidge. “Now go with Hunk and escort Kolivan and Antok to the hangar. I need to talk with Lance. Alone.”

Pidge looked from Shiro to Lance before packing up their laptop.

“Fine,” they bitterly said. “But if anyone is having it out with anyone else, I want to know all about it. Give me details, Lance.”

“Hey!” Shiro protested.

“All the details,” Lance confirmed, ignoring Shiro. “Don't worry.”

Pidge cheekily saluted, walking backwards out of the room with the others. Allura cast them one final, thoughtful look, before leaving.

“So what is it you wanted to talk about, Captain Shirogane.” Lance turned toward Shiro, saluting. Shiro shook his head.

“I wanted to apologize,” Shiro began. “I didn't listen to you, and I didn't make you feel like a part of this team – like a part of my crew – like I should have. I'm sorry.”

Lance watched Shiro pace, watched him look at Keith's cryopod. He hadn't figured it would take nearly so short a time for Shiro to apologize, but...

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Lance asked.

“You don't have to–” Shiro broke off, sighed, and nodded. “Granted.”

“It's not just me you have to apologize to,” he said. “Your Lance deserves this even more than I do. Sir.”

Shiro looked away, shame clear on his face. “I know. And I will, the moment we get him back. But you're here, and you deserve to know it too. You're a part of my crew too. You– he– ugh.” Shiro made a face. “How do I even say this?”

“Use the third person?” Lance dryly offered.

Shiro nodded. “I'm... going through a lot, right now. And I don't want to talk about it, it's not important, nothing I can't handle on my own. And Lance... you... you're good. For all of us. You lighten the mood, making sure that we don't lose ourselves in a serious moment. And despite the way you pick fights with Keith a lot of the time, you're good for him too. He can be impulsive a lot of the time, and he's working on that, but... you help him pull back. He listens to you, he – he talks to you.” Shiro paused, looking at the cryopod, at Keith. “He... talked to you.”

Lance gave Shiro a flat look. “Is this seriously going to segue into a discussion about Keith and his problems?”

“I – no.” Shiro shook his head. “It isn't. I just... I know Keith the best out of everyone here. He's... familiar. After – after the arena, I needed something familiar in my life. Keith and Pidge are – they're ties to my life back on Earth. It's... not like I made the best effort to get to know you or Hunk, because I don't – I'm not the person I used to be. I know that. So I... I'm sorry if I came across as...”

“A dick?” Lance finished for Shiro, raising a judgmental eyebrow. Shiro grimaced, but nodded.

“That's what Keith called you. And I get that you're apologizing, but I don't think I can accept it. Not right now. Not until you've proven that this isn't just you apologizing so that we can form Voltron.”

“It's not!” Shiro barked, then winced. Quieter, he said, “It isn't. I just... I know Keith the best, and I wanted him by my side in case things went south. He's a really good fighter, one of the best in the Castle, and I know how he fights the best. And you – he–” Shiro groans, running his hand over his face. “The Lance I know would be good for peace talks. But going into an unknown place, where we might have to fight our way out... The Lance I know isn't the best at direct combat.”

“But I'm not him,” Lance replied, a bit more caustically than he liked. He was open to talking with Shiro, but if this was what Shiro was getting at, then maybe– maybe it was better to just avoid Shiro if they weren't training or on missions.

“I get that now,” Shiro said. “I've been... preoccupied with my own problems, and I've been ignoring yours. I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't have acted the way I did.”

“Better,” Lance commented, giving Shiro a flat look. “And I'm not expecting you to talk about those problems, even though you should. I care about you a lot more than you know, Shir– Captain Shirogane. But until you can really explain what it is that your Lance did to cause this behavior, then I won't accept your apology.”

Shiro opened his mouth, looked like he wanted to say something, then thought better of it.

“Thank you,” he said instead. “And you can – it's alright to call me Shiro. I didn't mean that we weren't friends. I– I want to be friends with you, Lance.”

I want to be your friend too, Lance didn't say. “You can start by respecting me as a part of this team too.”

“I do,” Shiro promised. “I will. You're just– I saw you hurt by the Galra once already. When Sendak attacked the Castle, you nearly died. I already lost one team to the Galra, I couldn't – I can't lose another one.”

It felt like Shiro wanted to say something more, but he turned away. Lance wanted to follow after him, wanted to

“We should go meet up with the others. Coran can come back and monitor Keith. He'll let us know when Keith's healed.” He paused. “I promised Keith I would apologize to you. He really stood up for you.” Shiro sighed. “I really do want to be friends with you, Lance. I want to get to know you. I'm just... not in a good place right now.”

It was the closest Lance had gotten to Shiro opening up to him in this universe. It was also, probably, the closest Lance would ever get to seeing the Shiro he knew in this universe.

“So you need some time,” Lance offered. “To get your head on straight.”

“Not straight, but that's the idea,” Shiro replied. “Nothing about me is straight.”

“I know,” Lance quietly said, and Shiro stiffened. “It was kind of... one of the reasons I looked up to you. Was you being openly... you. Knowing that you could make it as a big pilot really... you inspired me to go for flight school. It just – it hurts when you meet your hero and he's–”

“Hero?” Shiro coughed harshly. He looked at Lance poleaxed, his face dusted with pink. Lance raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You, uh, think I'm your hero?”

“What did I just say,” Lance flatly replied, before the beginnings of a smirk grew on his face. “You are my hero. My inspiration. You're an amazing pilot and a better person than I could ever hope to be.”

Shiro's faint blush deepened into a hearty red and he coughed, hurrying out of the room. “I have to go. Someone should check, uh, in with the– the others! Yeah, the others. Pidge and Hunk shouldn't be– be left alone together. So I will go and, and do that. Check in. With Pidge. And Hunk.”

Lance smiled as Shiro hurriedly left the room. It might have been mean, but he couldn't help it. He liked seeing Shiro flustered, and he missed it. He missed having Shiro there in bed, missing the casual flirting they did, missed holding hands with him. He missed Shiro, his Shiro.

Sparing one last glance at the cryopod, Lance went to follow after Shiro. Maybe he could talk to Hunk, clear the air there.

As it turned out, Lance didn't get to talk to Hunk. Instead, Allura appeared, pulling Lance into the kitchen.

“Uh.” Lance stumbled, reaching out to the counter for stability. He really had to remember that Allura was incredibly strong. “Is everything alright?”

Allura paced the room. “No. Everything is most certainly not alright. Lance, I understand that we must align ourselves with these Galra but I cannot – they are Galra.”

She said the word like it would explain everything, and Lance supposed that it did. He had no clue if there was any war between the Alteans and the Galra before Altea's destruction, but he figured that there had to have been something.

“And you're Altean, and I'm human,” Lance replied, watching Allura pace with a neutral expression. “We talked about this before, with Ulaz. Remember? We're all just a bunch of little lion bots trying to come together into one big megabot. We can't do that if we're all suspicious of each other.” He paused, tilting his head, before giving Allura a sly smile. “What do you think are the odds that we can get Kolivan and Antok to join in a meal when they come back?”

Allura paused in her pacing to eye Lance suspiciously. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Lance denied. “I was just thinking of how we managed to bond while flinging food at each other but...” he shook his head. “They're adults. Well, adultier adults than any of us. Except for Coran, I guess? Does Coran count as an adult?”

“Coran counts as an adult,” Allura confirmed, looking less distressed than she had been a moment before. She froze, her mouth settling into a thin line. “But I still do not enjoy the idea of relying on this Galra group to defeat Zarkon. It feels far too convenient.”

“So did the stellar barrier going down,” Lance dryly replied. “I'm pretty sure we owe them as much as they owe us, with that one Marmorite of theirs – Thace – putting his position at risk to save us. Plus, Ulaz helped save Shiro because...” Lance trailed off, his mind whirring. “Oh, hold the phone.”

“Lance?” Allura reached out toward Lance. “What is it?”

“They flipping knew the Castle was on Arus the entire time,” Lance replied, slumping his arms onto the counter. “I'll tell you about it all later. I can't believe it took me this long just to realize. This whole cross-dimensional switch has got me off my game.”

“Lance, we have time now,” Allura replied, irritated. “Explain.”

“Sendak had the Red Lion and was so close to Arus because they knew the Castle – and Black – were there.” Lance waved his hand. “Like I said, I'll explain it all later. For now, let's talk this alliance with the Marmorites.”

“I believe they prefer to be called the Blade,” Allura commented. “And I do understand that it is necessary. However, it doesn't mean that I have to enjoy it.”

“And Keith?” Lance asked. “What about him?”

“Keith is... the Red Paladin,” Allura neutrally replied.

“You didn't want him to go with me and Pidge to the prison,” Lance said. “Mind talking about why that is?”

“The last time a Galra was a Paladin of Voltron, it ended with the deaths of the other Paladins and the destruction of my entire home system!” Allura snapped. “I understand Keith is not like them, and I understand that he was raised on your planet, but that does not ensure anything. I once knew Zarkon as a beloved uncle. As I have told you, it has been barely several spicolian movements since I woke up to find that my people, my home, no longer exists because of him.” She paused, looking away. “It will... it will take time to process this information.”

“This,” Lance began, gesturing at Allura. “This right here is why Keith didn't tell anyone. He was terrified. I think he was losing sleep over it. Keith didn't know before going to the Blade. That whole thing about him leaving with you because he thought Zarkon was using him to track us? This was what it was about.”

“I will still need time,” Allura said, looking away, looking troubled. “This is not something I can easily look past.”

“But you're trying, and I know you'll succeed.” Lance nodded. “Because you're Allura, Princess of Altea, Commander of Voltron and the Castle of Lions.”

Allura paused, and smiled. “Commander of Voltron? I like the sound of that.”

“Don't let the power go to your head,” Lance playfully teased.

“It is too late,” Allura replied, still smiling. “This makes me the greatest hope the universe has. The power feels nice.”

Lance laughed, prompting Allura to burst into laughter. He slumped onto the counter, and the laughter trailed off. “We're really doing this, yeah? Going after Zarkon?”

“It was bound to happen,” Allura answered, moving to stand beside Lance. “I was not expecting it to be so soon. But I have the fullest faith in Voltron.”

“But not us?” Lance asked, peering up at Allura.

“Naturally, since you are part of Voltron, it includes the Paladins.” Allura glanced at the food goo dispensers.

“Even Keith?” Lance asked, and Allura's smile became strained, just a little.

“I suppose so,” Allura conceded. She tilted her head. “How do these dispensers work? Coran has yet to show me.”

Lance looked from the dispensers to Allura, before nodding. “Alright so the nozzles are delicate and require finesse, so jot that down...”

Lance piloted Blue through the wormhole Allura provided, one of several – for Blue, for Yellow, for Coran's podship to Olkarion, and one for Allura herself.

“Remember to check in once your mission is complete,” Allura said over the comms. “I will be at the Balmera, procuring a crystal to power the teludav. Once your missions are completed, I will open wormholes for you to return to the Castle, and we will travel to Olkarion to reconvene with Coran and station there until the teludav is complete.”

“And Hunk, I've included a helpful video on how to harvest the scaultrite!” Coran added. “Follow the instructions and you'll surely survive with all the scaultrite we'll need.”

“Yay,” Hunk flatly cheered.

“There's that good Hunk cheer!” Coran's grin came through the comms, and Lance laughed.

“We'll meet up with you by the end of the quintant, Coran,” Lance called out. “So don't get too comfy in that life without us.”

“Me? Never!” Coran laughed as he entered his wormhole, and Lance pushed Blue toward his own wormhole. Flipping to the closed channel, Lance asked, “So how's life in Blue's mouth?”

“Can't you ever fly straight?!” Pidge growled.

“I'm a bisexual, I can't even think straight,” Lance replied with a smile. “And also? You're speaking to the tailor. Because I always–”

“Thread the needle, I know,” Pidge grumbled, then yelped. “Seriously? You did that on purpose!”

“Lance, maybe try stabilizing us?” Shiro asked.

“The wormhole's a little rough,” Lance answered, gritting his teeth. “I'm giving her all I've got, Captain!”

“...did you just quote Star Trek?” Shiro asked incredulously.

“I've been quoting many things, Captain,” Lance answered. “This is just the first time you've noticed.”

“Inconceivable,” Shiro muttered.

“You keep using that word,” Lance replied without missing a beat. “I don't think it means what you think it means.”

Shiro gasped, and Lance could imagine the shock on Shiro's face at having heard that line.

Pidge yelped. “Lance! I don't know what you've just referenced, but can you please focus on stabilizing Blue?”

“I just said I'm doing the best I can,” Lance replied, before perking up. “Oh, we're at the end of the wormhole. Hold on!”

Pidge yelped as Blue exited on the edge of an asteroid field. Lance cut thrusters to low power, gently guiding Blue through the field, until the prison came into view. Landing on an asteroid, Lance mimed grabbing a microphone.

“Alright, passengers, you may now walk freely about the cabin, we have reached our destination. I've got eyes on Beta Traz. Which do you want first, sonic scan or to be launched?”

“Can you launch us from this far away?” Pidge asked.

“Of course I can!” Lance replied, eying the distance. “I'm not the team sharpshooter for nothing!”

It was a shot in the dark, but Shiro chuckled while Pidge balked.

“Since when?” Pidge asked.

“Since – since now,” Lance replied, a bit more caustically than he liked. “Hold on to your butts. Launching in three, two... now!”

Blue jerked, spitting Shiro and Pidge out at the prison. Lance watched them fly, pulling up Blue's sonic cannon.

“Alright beautiful,” Lance murmured, feeling the tide ebb and flow in the back of his mind. “Let's get to mapping this place.”

Blue roared, but it felt more like a deep thrum than anything else, something that echoed in Lance's own chest, something that thrummed outward, at the prison.

Lance smiled, humming along as several screens popped up, tracking Pidge and Shiro as they landed on Beta Traz, right beside the landing bay Lance had been aiming for.

“The Princess Bride,” Shiro said, and Lance perked up. “That's what you were quoting.”

“What the quiznack is The Princess Bride?” Pidge asked. “And why should I care? Hold on.”

“The Princess Bride is a movie. And a book,” Shiro explained. “It's, uh, my favorite book. And movie. I didn't know you liked it too, Lance.”

“I'm sure you didn't, Captain Shirogane,” Lance dryly replied. “A couple more ticks before the scan is complete.” The screen to his left pinged, and Lance smiled. “Oh, it's done! Sending to you, Pidge.”

“Good.” In the distance, the bay doors opened. “Alright, Lance, you've got about fourty ticks to fly out here and land before the outside sensors reset. Get moving, tailor.”

“It's the tailor,” Lance corrected, dismissing the sonic cannon and sending Blue forward.

“Get moving, the tailor,” Pidge mocked.

Lance landed Blue in the hangar, slipping out to join Pidge and Shiro. “So what's the layout say? I sent it before I got a chance to look.”

“It's... weird.” Pidge glanced up. “the Blade said that only Slav is held here but we're reading three life signs. The Warden, and two prisoners.”

Shiro blinked, sharing a shocked look with Lance. “Two prisoners?”

“One's here in the upper level, and one's in the lower level.” Pidge squinted. “The lower level is guarded by roverbots, the upper level has sentries? I'm not sure. We'd have to get into the warden's office for more info. I can't tell which prisoner is Slav from this alone.”

“Then you do that. Me and Lance can get you there but...” Shiro glanced at Lance. “We'll have to split up. If there's two prisoners here, then we'll break both of them out.”

“Then let's go.” Lance gestured. “I'm alright with splitting up. I can take the prisoner on this level.”

“Really?” Pidge asked. “Scans are showing it's heavier guarded.”

Lance shrugged. “I have the power of acrobatics on my side. Also? This awesome bayard!”

Lance brandished the blue bayard, charging and setting off a burst of sparkles from it.

“Then let's go.” Shiro gestured for them to move, and they traveled through the halls, Pidge doing their best to hack into blind spots in the security. The bayard weighed heavily in Lance's grip, the rifle already formed. He couldn't afford to keep it

Soon enough, they left Pidge inside the warden's office – thankfully empty, since the warden was on the move from the lower level to the upper level – and Lance and Shiro came across a fork on the road. A sentry came around the corner, and Lance raised the bayard, ready to fire, when Shiro lunged forward, arm glowing, to stab the sentry.

Shiro wrapped his other arm around the sentry, pulling it aside and shoving it into the nearest vent.

“So,” Lance began, “that happened.”

“It was going to raise the alarm.” Shiro stood up, shoving the vent back into place.

“And I couldn't have shot it?” Lance asked, incredulous.

“Your bayard is loud,” Shiro replied, looking like he hated the explanation as much as Lance did. “And we can't exactly announce that Voltron is here. This place is too heavily guarded for all three of us to fight our way out.”

Lance nodded, glad that Shiro was actually explaining himself this time. “That's fair.”

“Now let's go.” Shiro gestured. “If I'm remembering the scans right, I'm going left.”

“And I'm going right,” Lance breathed. He shared a look with Shiro. “Let's do a prison break.”

Lance leaped into the room, looking back at the doors in confusion. The Galra were so small, a little larger than human sized, so why were the doors so big?

Turning back to the prisoner, Lance spotted them – huge, furry, and... munching on a pile of Galra sentry bots.

“...okay, this is creepy.”

“Yup.”

Lance stiffened.

“Did you just answer me?”

The figure turned toward Lance, shoving the entire Galra sentry's arm into their mouth. They chewed, and swallowed. “Yup.”

Lance looked from the prisoner to the ruined sentry bots. “Are you Slav?”

“Yup.”

Lance smiled. “Sweet!” He reached up to tap on his comms. “I found Slav!”

Lance paused when Shiro's voice came in at the same time as him.

“What?” Shiro asked, confused. “Lance, no, I have Slav. He's right in front of me.”

“Well, I've got someone who says their Slav in front of me,” Lance countered.

“Yup,” Slav confirmed.

Lance paused, looking at Slav. “You... are Slav, yeah?”

“Yup,” Slav said again.

“Guys we don't have time for this!” Pidge hissed. “The warden's coming back, so take both Slavs with you and we'll figure out which is which back in Blue.”

“Got it,” Shiro confirmed. “Lance, let's get moving.”

“Alright.” Lance looked at Slav – or at whoever it was. He hoped it was Slav, because he didn't think that this team would ever let Lance – either Lance – live it down if he was wrong. “Hey, let's get moving. We're breaking you out.” Lance ran to the door, looking back urgently when Slav didn't follow. “Come on!”

“Yup.” Slave bound toward him, moving ahead of him before stopping at a slow pace. Lance jogged ahead to catch up, and they fell into step.

“I hope you're the real Slav,” Lance said, to fill the pressing silence. “It would be embarrassing if you weren't.”

“Yup,” Slav agreed.

“And like, you don't need to worry if you aren't Slav!” Lance hurriedly blurted. “Because we're with Voltron, and we're not going to leave you behind.”

“Yup?” Slav asked.

“Yeah,” Lance confirmed. “Voltron is... I don't know if you've heard of us, but we're a group of super awesome people. We pilot the five Lions and together we form Voltron. Are you nervous?”

“Yup.”

Lance winced. “Would it help if I talked about them?”

“Yup.”

“Well, first there's Hunk, the Yellow Paladin. He's this amazing engineer, the absolute best. He's really kind and he can get really nervous, but he's got a heart of gold – not, like, literal gold, it's just a saying from our planet – but... Hunk's the kindest person you'll ever meet.” Lance smiled. “Then there's Pidge. They're the Green Paladin. They're megasmart and really sassy. They can hack into anything if you give them a couple doboshes.

“Keith's the Red Paladin, and he's brave. Stupidly brave, but probably the bravest out of all of us. He's awkward, and kinda brash, always the first to run into the fight, but he's the kind of person you'd want protecting you.” Lance winced, thinking about the incident on Olkarion. “Well, when he's got his head on right.

“Then there's Shiro.” Lance paused. “I'm... not actually from this universe, so I don't really know this Shiro as well as I'd like, but... he can be stubborn, and he can get caught up in his head sometimes, but I wouldn't have him any other way. He's inspiring, he's tough, he's loyal. And he cares. Shiro's probably the most caring person out of all of us.” Lance smiled, fondly. “If there's anyone you wanted to have making sure you got out safely, it's Shiro. He's... he's soft, really soft, and gentle. Not like Hunk, but... in the kind of gentle that makes you want to rally around him. He's also really good at inspirational speeches, I swear he had a page-a-day calendar back on our planet and memorized all kinds of motivational posters. Shiro's like a literal motivational poster, and it's... it's the best thing to see, and once you meet him, you'll find out too.” Lance chuckled, a light blush over his face. “And he's... he's really nice. Especially when he smiles. And even more when he laughs. It's the best thing, I like stepping onto a planet and feeling the nice warmth of sunshine – starshine? It's the best thing. Being near him is like being near the sun. You can't help but be drawn in and feel safe with him there.”

Lance coughed. “And then... there's me. I don't... like I said, I'm not from this universe, so I... I'm quick on my feet, and I'm a good shot. I'm still finding where the other Lance fits into this team. I thought he was the team sharpshooter, but I guess I'm the only one who thinks that. Maybe he doesn't have any place on this team. Maybe he's just... there to be the Blue Paladin.” Lance sighed. “Like, I know the aspects of the Blue Paladin are faith and loyalty. Able to trust anyone and inspire trust in anyone. The right leg, the one that pushes the team up and forward when all else fails. But... I don't know if that exists here. It feels like I'm–”

“There you are!”

Lance yelped, stepping in front of Slav and raising the bayard, aiming at the warden, who was flanked by several sentry bots.

“You're not taking him!” Lance declared. He blinked as Slav bound past him, attacking the sentry bots and tearing into them. “Uh.”

The warden snarled, tapping something on the gauntlet he wore over one arm. The alarms went off, klaxons blaring all throughout the facility, and Lance winced. Now Shiro and Pidge would know that subtlety and stealth was off the table.

Panels on the walls and ceiling slid open, revealing blasters that shot at everything. Slav bound forward, past the warden, and dodged the blasts – some of which were some kind of cement-looking goop. Lance fired at the warden, running past him and doing his best to dodge the goop and the blasts himself. Lance and Slav burst into the hangar, the warden hot on their tail, where they ran into Shiro and Pidge. Slav bound forward, crashing into and tearing apart the sentry bots that surrounded Blue. There was a – a something, curled around Shiro's shoulders, looking like a ferret, if ferrets had a beak and eight arms. The other prisoner, Lance realized.

“You took the warden's pet Yupper?!” The other prisoner cried, and Lance paused.

“Wait, what?” He looked at Slav – or, not Slav. The Yupper. “You're a pet?!”

The Yupper looked up at Lance. “Yup.”

“Aaaahhh, I see, I see,” Slav, the real Slav, nodded. “I understand the confusion now. An easy mistake, you do that in 42 percent of all realities.” Slav took notice of Lance, and his gaze sharpened. “You... you are not you.”

“What?” Lance dodged the Warden, dashing to the side as the warden ran past them, toward his pet. “So then you're Slav, yeah?”

“I am indeed.” Slav climbed off of Shiro's shoulders. “And you are not the Blue Paladin.”

“Slav.” The warden chuckled. “I should have known Voltron would come for you. Unfortunately, this little scheme of theirs ends here.”

The warden pushed a button on his gauntlet, and two robotic arm came out from the pack on his back, almost as large as he was. Lance raised the bayard, ready to shoot, when the warden expanded, becoming at least twice as large than he was before.

“What the quiznack?” Lance blinked in surprise, before gasping when the warden lunged at Pidge. Lance shoved Pidge out of the way, gasping in pain when the warden snatched him and squeezed.

“Lance!” Pidge yelled, while Shiro directed Slav to a safe location before running to attack the warden. Lance gasped, trying to catch a breath that was outrunning him, while the warden pulled him close.

“So these are the fabled Paladins, huh?” The warden scoffed. “Pathetic.”

“Pathetic this, you Hulk wannabe,” Pidge snarled, using their grappling hook to leap up behind the warden and onto his back. Pidge savagely grinned as they shoved their taser into the warden. The warden spasmed, dropping Lance into Shiro's waiting arms.

“Thanks, Captain Hotpants!” Lance said, hopping out of Shiro's grip. He raised his bayard, ready to strike, when Pidge came flying away. Shiro bounded away, moving to catch them, and Lance went on the move, firing distracting shots to draw the warden's attention away from Pidge and Shiro.

“Paladins!” Slav called out. “Put on your breathing suits or there is a 100 percent chance of you dying in all realities!”

“What?” Lance reached up, tapping on his helmet. He saw Shiro and Pidge do the same, and yelped when Slav opened the bay doors. The warden yelled, one of his arms wrapping around the Yupper while everything – from Blue to the Paladins to the various storage boxes scattered around the bay – was jettisoned. Lance spotted Slav flailing, heading their way, and glanced at Shiro, wide-eyed. “Can he survive the vacuum of space like that?”

“If anyone can, he could,” Shiro grimly replied. “Be ready to catch him.”

“Or not. Look!” Pidge directed their attention to Slav, in the grip of one of the warden's mechanical arms. Lance raised the bayard.

“I got this!” he called out, spotting the bay doors already closing.

“Do it,” Shiro said.

Lance breathed, looking down the barrel of the rifle. He exhaled, long and slow.

He pulled the trigger.

The arm was hit close to the shoulder, releasing Slav.

“Yeah!” Pidge cried out, reaching out to catch the still-screaming Slav.

“There's our sharpshooter!” Shiro congratulated, and Lance felt his face heat up, and butterflies in his stomach.

“We – we should, uh, get in Blue.” Lance awkwardly gestured at Blue, who was floating there, waiting for them. There was the crashing of waves in the back of his mind, sounding far too much like annoyed huffing, and Lance clicked his boots, jetting himself toward Blue.

“I'll get Pidge and Slav,” Shiro said. “And this time we're all going in the cockpit.”

“You could have gone up into the cockpit at any time, Captain Shirogane,” Lance blithely replied, falling back on something more formal, something more deserving of this Shiro.

“What.” Shiro paused, looking over at Lance in shock. “Are you serious right now?”

“We're on a mission, sir,” Lance dully replied. “I'm rarely not serious when we're on a mission. Now please get inside the Blue Lion before I have to fight our way out of here.”

Shiro glanced back at the prison, and nodded, pulling Pidge and Slav close as they entered Blue. He glanced at Lance when they stepped into the cockpit, who stared forward, focused on piloting Blue away from the prison and to the other side of the asteroid field.

“This is very good technology,” Slave commented, leaning over to poke at the controls. Lance slapped at his hands, but Slav slapped back. “Will we be traveling by teludav? The odds of us returning to the Castle of Lions safely–”

“Yes! We're traveling by teludav!” Shiro snapped, his face burning red. “And you're going to buckle down and enjoy it!”

Lance and Pidge stared at Shiro in shock.

“I...” Slav began, his voice quiet, “was just going to say that travel by teludav is very efficient.”

Lance looked at Shiro, who was gaping at Slav. “Uh. Okay then.”

“You are not of this universe.” Lance paused looking at Slav in shock.

“What?” Lance glanced at Pidge, who looked just as lost as Lance did, and at Shiro, who was standing near the back and seemed to be reciting the alphabet backwards. “How did you know?”

“I am a bytor,” Slav said, as thought that explained everything. “We are much more in tune with the different realities than most species. And you are in the wrong reality. It is strange, because in 99 percent of all realities, you do not switch places with another self.” Slav squinted at Lance. “You are not the Blue Paladin in your reality, are you? Are you from a reality where you are the Red Paladin, or a reality where you are the Black Paladin?”

“Black Paladin,” Lance answered, still gaping at Slav. “How did you know?”

“In 87 percent of all realities, you are the Blue Paladin,” Slav matter-of-factly stated. “In 9 percent of all realities, you are the Black Paladin. In 4 percent of realities, you are the Red Paladin.”

“How do you know all that?” Pidge asked. “Does it have anything to do with how you managed to survive out in the vacuum of space?”

“Oh, it doesn't have to do with that,” Slav waved Pidge off. “I am a bytor. We are very resilient. Going into a place with near zero atmosphere, such as the “vacuum of space”, as you call it, for short periods of time is commonplace for my species.”

“What.” Shiro turned to look at Slav. “So that whole mess with the puddle and drowning was just– argh!”

“Bytor drown very easily,” Slav said, shivering. He curled his arms around himself. “I can still feel the water rushing down my throat.”

Shiro turned around, angrily recounting the alphabet backwards. Then he did it again. And a third time, before he turned back toward the group.

“Contact Allura, let her know we've got Slav,” Shiro ground out. “Let's get back to the Castle so I don't have to – to – uugh. With him. Ever again.”

Lane shared a baffled look with Pidge.

“Alright, Captain,” Lance replied, reaching for his console. “Calling up the Castle.”

“Don't press that button!” Slav cried out. “In 13 percent of all realities, it jettisons all of us and then the universe is doomed!”

Lance grimaced. “It's the comms button. It doesn't do that.”

“But in those realities it does!” Slav wailed. “And then we're left floating out in space until we get pulled into the nearest star and incinerated!”

Lance groaned, while Shiro looked like he wanted to scream. Pidge held up their bayard, looking from it to Slav speculatively.

“Pidge, no,” Lance warned, slapping Slav away from his controls. “Hold him, so I can contact the Castle.”

“Not that button either!” Slav warned, slapping away Lance's hand from hitting the comms button.

“...please hold him,” Lance repeated. “I need to make this call.”

Chapter Text

“He's gonna be okay, right?” Hunk looked from Coran to Pidge to Lance.

“He better be okay,” Pidge muttered darkly, glaring at Kolivan and Antok. “What the quiznack happened out there?”

“It's...” Lance hesitated. He wanted to be honest, wanted to tell them everything about what Keith had endured, but... “It's complicated. Keith should explain it.”

“Keith's hurt,” Pidge growled. “My boyfriend is hurt, and in a cryopod, so he can't explain sh–”

“Language!” Hunk yelped, looking frantically from the Galra to the Alteans. “You have a point, but language. Please.”

Pidge looked at Hunk, their glare softening, before icing over as they turned back toward Lance. “You live... for now. But if you don't start telling us what happened down there, I will create itching powder and soak your bed in it.”

Lance gasped, scandalized. “You would never!”

Pidge's eyes narrowed. “Try me, pretty boy.”

“Such insubordination, I do declare!” Lance gasped, falling back to drape over Takashi, who hefted him back to his feet without missing a beat. “The betrayal. The agony.”

“They're younglings,” Kolivan breathed in horrified awe. “The fate of the universe is in the hands of younglings.”

“Paladins,” Allura hissed. “Lance. Explain what you meant when you said that Keith is of Galra blood.”

Lance coughed, straightening up. He looked at Kolivan and Antok, who were watching the proceedings – who were now staring at himself and the other humans with thinly veiled horror. At least, Kolivan was; Antok was still masked, still a mystery of a concrete face and identity.

“Well,” Lance began, looking at the Galra for help. “Keith kind of... brought his knife with him.”

“His knife?” Takashi asked, brows furrowing. “What knife?”

“What kni– what knife? Seriously?” Lance balked at Shiro's baffled expression. “The one that Keith carries with him all the time? How have you never seen it?”

Shiro looked at Keith in the cryopod, frowning. “I haven't noticed all that much about him. He likes to keep to himself a lot.”

“You've known him for the better part of ten years!” Lance cried.

“I've been busy, Lance,” Takashi dryly replied. “Would you know if your younger brother owned a knife?”

Lanced opened and closed his mouth. He looked at the cryopod, looked at Keith, and hummed. “Alright, you've got a point. But only about Keith. If Alejandro had a knife he'd boast about it to me and our siblings. Not our parents, because Ma and Pa would birth a cow–”

“Birth a kaltenecker, you mean,” Hunk corrected, and chuckled at his joke. Kolivan shared a long-suffering look with Antok, while Allura looked like she was about to pray to whatever Altean deity existed.

“But siblings are ride or die, Takashi,” Lance finished. “And he had to fight for the right to keep his knife.”

Hunk softly gasped, slipping Pidge's hand in his own. Under his breath he squealed, “We've reached first name calling!”

“Why?” Takashi asked.

“Is it a special Galra knife for Galra boyfriend?” Hunk asked. Lance blinked, raising up a finger in defense, before nodding. Hunk gaped. “What, really?”

“It's not a Galra knife,” Antok drawled. “It's a luxite blade with abilities only unlocked by those of Galra blood.”

“It turns into a sword,” Lance explained. “Like, little knife turns into a sword.”

“Well, Keith is a grower, not a shower.” Hunk had a canary-eating smirk, and Lance coughed though his mortified laughter.

“Hunk!” Takashi despairingly cried, betrayal in his voice. “Not what I ever wanted to know about my brother!”

Pidge stared up at Kolivan, who looked about as uncomfortable as Lance felt with the direction the conversation had taken. “So do Galra cross-breed with other species easily or is there some kind of fertility thing going on?”

“Is the growing thing normal for all Galra? Like, do all your 'blades' start out small and grow larger than expected?” Hunk squinted from Antok to Kolivan, as if he could discern the answer just by looking at them.

“I... you are not talking about the actual blade, are you?” Kolivan looked at Allura for help while Lance was hurriedly shaking his head. On the far side of the room, Coran looked far too amused about everything, likely glad that there was someone else to be subjected to the combined might that was Hunk and Pidge.

“Paladins!” Allura snapped. “We are in the midst of creating an alliance with this Blade of Marmora. A sense of decorum is paramount!”

“Oh, we've kind of already got a rough idea of what to do,” Lance answered, glad to change the subject. “Kolivan's got some people all across the empire, and an in on almost everything. He knows all the big spots to attack that will hurt Zarkon the most. Also, you remember the solar barrier around Zarkon's ship? One of the Marmorites–”

“The Blade,” Kolivan corrected, voice strained. “The correct name is the Blade.”

“One of the Blade,” Lance amended without breaking his stride, “was the one to take it down so we could escape.” Lance grinned. “So we got an in. We can know exactly where Zarkon is at all times.”

“Didn't we already know that before?” Pidge asked, poking at Keith's cryopod and squinting at the readings it was bringing up. “Why does this say he was stabbed a lot?”

“...because he was?” Lance offered. He backed away from Pidge as they pulled out their bayard. “Seriously, he was! He had to fight, like, half the base. Wearing that stupid catsuit.”

“Where's his armor?” Takashi asked, eyes flicking toward Antok. The Blade held out Keith's armor, which Coran walked over and snatched away with a hard stare at Antok. “And this... blade?”

“Yeah, Keith fought hard to keep it,” Lance agreed, reaching out and gesturing for Antok to hand it over. “Red trashed your base because he wanted to keep it, the least you could do is actually leave it behind when you leave.”

“I was waiting to hand it over to him personally,” Antok replied, pulling Keith's knife from his belt and holding it out handle-first. “But if you insist, I cannot keep it from him.”

“I'll be taking that,” Pidge growled, snatching the knife and gesturing it threateningly at both Antok and Kolivan. “This had better be worth Keith getting stabbed.”

“His life was not in danger,” Antok mildly replied. “None of his opponents were aiming for a fatal or debilitating injury.”

“So it was only light stabbing.” Takashi snorted. “That's something to know.”

“Were it not for the laws of this alliance, I would lightly stab both of you,” Pidge threatened, brandishing Keith's knife at both Blades. “Except I wouldn't keep from aiming at anything fatal.”

“We need them alive, Pidge,” Takashi said. “No murdering this time.”

“This time?” Lance squeaked. “How about never!”

“I agree with the Black Paladin,” Kolivan added. “I would prefer it if we didn't kill anyone on either side.”

“You don't get a say here,” Pidge snarled, their bayard in one hand and Keith's knife in the other.

“Kolivan totally gets a say here,” Lance countered. “Hunk, hug and comfort your... I don't know, datefriend? If anyone's going to avoid getting stabbed by Pidge, it's you.”

“Don't you threaten me with a good time,” Pidge growled, even as Hunk's arms came up and lifted them into his embrace. They snarled but fell limp while Hunk quietly nuzzled their hair.

“Now that that's out of the way,” Lance muttered. “Kolivan, is there anything else we need to know?”

“Our agent, Thace, is currently leading the investigation into who betrayed him and disabled the solar barrier.” Kolivan frowned. “Our most recent transmission from him indicates that the witch and her followers have taken the lead in the investigation.”

“The witch?” Allura gave Lance a sharp look. He furrowed his brows, baffled. What was she talking about? “The hooded figures in Zarkon's ship, you mean?”

“You've seen them?” Kolivan stiffened. “You've seen her?”

“We have,” Allura replied, suspicious. “They were transporting raw quintessence to a secret moon base. And Lance – our Lance – was briefly engaged in combat with one. Whoever she was, she could create false images and manipulate quintessence to a degree I have not seen outside of Altea's druids.”

“Very little is known about the witch or her followers. They have never been seen outside of high command. Even less is known about the witch, but she has Zarkon's ear. He will listen to her, as we've learned, and she has greater control over running the empire than even the highest of Commanders.”

“So we'll have to take her out too.” Takashi didn't look happy. “That's not good.”

“First we'll have to isolate Zarkon,” Lance said, his mind already racing. Strategy was something he was good at, a skill he'd developed through games like chess.

“He's got dozens of fleets traveling with him, what are we going to do, wormhole him away?” Hunk asked. Allura blinked, and hummed, sharing a thoughtful look with Coran. “Wait, really? We can make a wormhole that large?”

“No.” Coran shook his head. “The Castle's teludav can create a wormhole large enough for the Castle itself to travel though, or smaller wormholes for the podships or Lions. We would have to craft an entirely new teludav. To make one to transport Zarkon's ship... it would have to be larger than the Castle!” Coran got a calculating gleam in his eye. “But I can design it, not to worry!”

“The Olkari can help,” Pidge piped up from Hunk's arms. “They've got the engineering genius. We can go there and build it.”

“We'll still need to go after Zarkon's fleet,” Takashi pointed out.

“And there's the fact that his ship has, like, it's own lasers and shields and everything?” Hunk squeaked, hugging Pidge close. “We won't even get close without, like, getting zapped to Altean afterlife–”

“Woblay,” Coran corrected.

“–by the death ray he probably has!” Hunk finished.

“Thace, for the time being, is still a free agent. He's sent us the blueprints for high command. With the plans, we can and will know where to attack high command,” Kolivan spoke up.

“Do you have these blueprints with you?” Allura cooly asked. “Or will you need to return to your base?”

“We will need to return,” Antok answered. “Thace will need informed of this alliance. It was a great risk to his position within high command, saving you.”

“And we will need to contact Slav,” Kolivan added. “If this teludav is as large as you say, it will need to be hidden. Slav is a reclusive genius engineer; he created the gravity engines that the Blade uses to hide our bases. He can design and create one large enough to hide both this ship and the teludav you need to create.”

“We'll still need to do something more,” Lance muttered. “This doesn't feel like enough.”

“It's more than we had before,” Takashi gently said. “With this, we can stop Zarkon for good.”

“Dude, yeah!” Hunk nearly dropped Pidge as he threw his arms into the air. Instead, he hefted them up like he was standing on Pride Rock. “We can go home after this!” Hunk's grin faltered, just a little. “That, that is something we can do, right? Once we sneak in and take Zarkon down, we can go home?”

“It... is possible,” Allura admitted at length.

“Heh, can you imagine the look on Iverson's face?” Lance cackled. “The Castle coming down all ominous, everyone's freaking out, and out comes us? Probably the best first contact Earth could ask for.” Lance's laughter died out, and he looked at everyone. “But that's... after we undo this whole cross-dimensional swap.”

“Cross-dimensional what?” Kolivan dyly asked.

“Yeah, I'm not... technically the Black Paladin of this universe?” Lance shrugged. “We can still form Voltron! Just... I'm from a different dimension. Where I am the Blue Paladin. So we... kind of need Zarkon alive?”

“You what.” Kolivan gave Lance a dry stare.

“Whatever attack Zarkon did as we were fleeing, it destabilized the wormhole,” Allura explained. “Perhaps it was him, perhaps it was this witch and her followers. Whatever it is, the point stands that we cannot simply kill Zarkon and be done with it. The destabilized wormhole is what caused this cross-dimensional swap between our Lance and the Lance from this other universe, and Zarkon is our best lead.”

“And you know for certain that it was Zarkon.” Antok tilted his head, looking at each of them.

“Considering that we're three for three in me switching back to my universe when we cross paths with him, I'd say yes,” Lance replied. “I want to go back to my universe, and I'm certain that the other Lance wants to get back here. We'll need to sneak aboard.”

“You're speaking of something we cannot do,” Kolivan growled. “There are numerous internal defenses, a security network that Thace cannot override. To do so would require–”

“A virus!” Pidge yelled out, causing Hunk to drop them. They bounced back to their feet. “A virus. I can create a virus, it can shut Zarkon's entire ship down. Cut the power to everything – flight, defenses, weapons, everything.” Pidge grinned. “We can Independence Day this quiznacker.”

“You are definitely not using that word right,” Hunk muttered. Pidge glared up at him, and he held up his hands. “Hey, I'm just speaking for Keith here. You know he would say that, dude.”

“He would,” Pidge admitted. “But that doesn't mean I won't use a good quiznack when I get the chance!”

“You keep using that word,” Lance said, the words bubbling out before he could stop them. “I don't think it means what you think it means.”

Takashi coughed, his face turning red. Lance turned to him, smirking, while Pidge growled.

“I am armed,” they threatened, gesturing with their bayard and Keith's knife. “I am double armed.”

“And I'm half as armed as you,” Takashi replied. He held up his right arm. “Literally.”

Lance snorted, covering his mouth as Pidge's jaw dropped. “You're – you seriously went there?”

“It was an armless pun,” Takashi said, grinning. “I had to disarm the situation somehow, and lending a hand was the only way I could think of.

Hunk cackled, holding out a fist. “Dude!”

Allura stared at Hunk's fist. Baffled, she leaned toward Lance. “Is this an Earth culture gesture?”

“Ah!” Coran cried, stepping forward. “I know what this is!”

He reached out, taking Takashi's arm – his prosthetic arm – and gently guiding it into a fist. Takashi let it happen, amused, as Coran had him fistbump Hunk.

“And now: explode!” Hunk opened his fist, fingers wiggling. Coran squinted at Hunk.

“No exploding.”

“Younglings,” Kolivan said, with great feeling. Lance grinned. While he didn't usually take any pleasure in unnerving others, with how Keith's trials went, Lance felt more than justified in taking Kolivan's horror at seeing the humans behind the legend as the best part of the day.

“So we should get this plan going,” he began, offering Kolivan a way out. Heckling Kolivan could come after they defeated Zarkon.

“Yes.” Kolivan nodded, relieved. “Of course. Slav and Thace will need contacting, and we will need to retrieve those blueprints. Come along, Antok.”

“Must I?” Antok lightly asked. “I find these Paladins amusing.”

“The good kind of amusing, or the bad kind of amusing?” Takashi asked.

“The good kind!” Hunk cried. “What other kind of amusing is there?”

“Irony,” Pidge flatly answered, pocketing their bayard and Keith's knife. They moved to hunker down beside Keith's cryopod, pulling out their laptop. “Irony is the epitome of amusement.”

“Paladins,” Allura ground out, her smile tense. “Our guests should be leaving. Would some of you be so kind as to escort them to the hangars? A podship can be offered to them, if they so desire.”

“An Altean podship is more than sufficient,” Kolivan hurriedly agreed. “Antok and I can fly it back to our base. It will take several vargas to collect the data and make contact with Thace and Slav. Would it be preferable to return later this quintant or tomorrow?”

“Later works fine,” Allura said. “Keith will be fully healed by evening nourishment, I do believe. Paladins, come along.”

“Yeah, I'm staying,” Pidge declared. “I'm not leaving until Keith is healed.”

“Me too,” Hunk said, lingering by Keith's cryopod. “This is just... a lot to process, you know. I need time to process.”

“Then me and Takashi can escort Kolivan and Antok to the hangars.” Lance jabbed his thumb at himself and Takashi. He spun on his heel, heading toward the door. “I'll make sure you guys get some lunch!”

After Kolivan and Antok left the hangar, Lance reached out, wanting to pull Takashi back.

“Hey, why don't we walk the way?” He gestured at the exit. “We can take another elevator. There's, like, tons of them.”

Takashi waved at Allura and Coran, who leaned forward eagerly as the doors to the elevator closed. He turned toward Lance, raising an eyebrow.

“You know,” he said, the beginning of a smile on the edge of his lips, “if you wanted some alone time you just had to ask.”

“I know, I just–” Lance groaned, rubbing his head. “I wanted to speak to you privately about the trials Keith went through. He's... probably going to downplay it a lot.”

Takashi stiffened. “Downplay what?”

“I mean, it really wasn't... good, what they did.” Lance winced. “I kind of threatened Kolivan with his own knife to stop the trials?”

“Lance.” Takashi stopped in the doorway, gently taking Lance by the shoulders so he could face the taller teen. “What did they do?”

“The suit,” Lance felt himself say. He knew it had to be talked about, knew someone had to know. Keith wasn't the best at communication, and Lance had seen firsthand just how highly Takashi was valued. “The stupid catsuit was the point of the trails. He had to fight all these members, and they kept hurting him, but the point was to fight until he was exhausted. Then the suit would kick in.”

“What does that mean?” Takashi asked. “Lance, come on, talk to me.”

“It... connected to his mind.” Lance looked away. “Keith kept fighting until he collapsed, and then the suit made him hallucinate.”

“What?” Takashi's grip on Lance's shoulder tightened. “What did he see? Do you know?”

“You.” Lance saw two of the space mice, Platt and Chulatt, staring back at him from one of the vents. “Kolivan said that the suit shows the wearer what they most wanted to see. And it was you.”

Takashi huffed a dry laugh. “Of course it was. I've always been the biggest influence on his life. I never really understood why.”

“Probably because you look like his dad,” Lance commented. “Keith saw his dad too. But there was... you. He saw you first. A fake you. That said... I don't know what, but it hurt Keith a lot. That was when Red started attacking the base.

“Those stupid trials,” Lance chuckled, cold and dry. “They were meant to bring someone to the point of complete mental and physical exhaustion. They aren't about whether you can keep the knife but whether or not you're willing to die to keep the Blade of Marmora a secret.” Lance shook his head. “Kolivan didn't say as much but I figured it out from what he told me and Keith.”

Lance looked at Takashi, who was glaring into empty space. His brow furrowed in concern.

“And you tried to stop them?” Takashi asked. “The trials?”

“I threatened Kolivan with his own knife,” Lance confirmed. “Told him to stop and give Keith what he wanted or I'd kill him.”

Takashi huffed. “Does Keith know you did that?”

“Oh, ew, no.” Lance made a face. “Keith must never know I threatened the kill the person we were sent to talk with. It would only encourage his brand of stupid.”

“He won't talk about it.” Takashi sighed, the hard expression fading and leaving behind resignation. “Just like everything in his life, he never really talks about it.”

“He talked to me,” Lance offered. “Back when we helped the Taujeerians. Keith told me everything about the knife, and his suspicions.”

“He did?” Takashi's eyebrows rose in surprise. “That's... that's good. You've been good for him.”

“He compared me to his dad,” Lance flatly replied. “Also you. Both of us were compared to his dad.” He paused, making a horrified face. “Does that make us his space parents? I'm too young and beautiful to be a father! Do you know how many wrinkles and gray hairs comes from stress alone?!”

Takashi stared at Lance with the most deadpan expression he'd ever seen. Wordlessly, Takashi pointed at his bangs. His white bangs.

“Oh,” Lance said, deflating. “Right. Yeah. You were... pretty high stress, for that year. Sorry.”

Takashi grinned. “Apology accepted. Now let's go get some food goo in you. It's been a long day.”

“Don't get me started,” Lance grumbled, crossing his arms. “Actually, do. Please do get me started. I need to talk this out.”

Takashi laughed. “So tell me what happened?”

Stepping into Blue felt like coming home.

Lance didn't want to describe it that way, didn't want the mess of feelings, the joy and hope and familiarity and nostalgia of his home planet, to sucker punch him so hard, but it did. Blue felt like she always did, the sweeping depths of the ocean in the back of his mind, but at the same time... she didn't feel the same. The closest he could describe it was standing alone in an empty room while the entire family was coming together and chatting and laughing in the next room over.

Blue was there, was always there, but was so distant, so muted, that Lance felt his vision blur as he reached out to her. She responded, feeling like the tide coming in, but it was curious, prodding. It wasn't with the same level of familiarity, lacked any of the joy Lance had come to associate with her.

Blue reached back, curious and tentative and full of respect for the Black Paladin. She didn't reach back for Lance, not like he wanted.

Black screeched in the back of his mind, the sound of a flock of seagulls, and Lance was snapped back to reality, to Takashi and Pidge looking at him in concern. He swallowed, but a lump in his throat kept him from completing the action.

“What?” The word came out wetter than he expected, came out breathless and full of more emotion than he liked.

“You're having emotions,” Pidge said, looking him over. “Ugly emotions.”

“It's– I'm just–” He waved around the cockpit, around Blue's cockpit. Takashi looked back at him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity and concern. Lance didn't think he'd ever felt the weight of Takashi wearing the blue armor instead of himself more than he did in that moment. “Having feelings. Blue Paladin feelings. I'm allowed.”

Takashi looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He nodded, slow and steady. “Okay. You can settle down with Pidge while I pilot Blue through the wormhole.”

Lance nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wiped at his face with the heel of his hand, surprised to see it come away wet. He sat down across from Pidge, while Takashi settled into Blue's seat, looking like he was always meant to be there.

For the first time since waking up in the Castle, Lance wished he was back in his own universe, wished he was the one piloting Blue. He wished he was the one to unlock Blue's sonic cannon, wished he could hear her like he used to.

As much as Lance hated it, he wished the swap had never happened. He wished he'd never gotten to see the relationship he could have with the team, wished he'd never gotten to experience the relationship he could never have with Shiro.

He almost wished he'd never gotten to bond so deeply with Black. Not because he wanted Zarkon to find them, but because he had no idea what bonding with Black in this universe would do with his own bond with Blue, back in his universe. When he got back, would things be the same? Would they be worse? Would Blue have bonded deeply with the other Lance, while he was left back at square one with her?

Black screamed in his hear, an eagle's cry, buffeting winds, all to pull Lance away from those thoughts.

“Alright, we're through the wormhole,” Takashi declared. “Head down to the airlock and I'll launch you two at the prison. I'll follow after, just need to have Blue map the place.”

Takashi turned to look at them, smiling, and Lance smiled back.

“I'll take the shorter route.” Lance nodded to himself. He didn't have a bayard, and wandering around a high security prison unarmed did not sound like a good time to him.

“You sure?” Pidge raised an eyebrow. “It's got heavier security. Immobilizing goo guns and everything.”

Lance balked. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “Fine, Takashi can take that one. I'll go after the longer route.”

Pidge nodded. “Fine, boss. I'll stick around in the warden's office, see if I can finally pull anything from the Galra records. I've got facial recognition software I've been itching to try out.”

“There are times when you terrify me,” Lance said, shaking his head. “Good luck finding your family.”

“Good luck avoiding security.”

Lance and Takashi left Pidge behind, and far too soon they parted ways. Lance snuck through the prison, avoiding patrols and taking care to stay out of the way of security cameras. Just as soon, he was standing outside of the cell door, Slav probably on the other side.

“Pidge, we've got a bit of a problem.” Lance groaned. “There's a face scanner on the door.”

“Hold on, I'll get it.” Takashi grunted. “I've got eyes on the warden. He's exiting the cell here.”

Lance froze, looking back down the hallway he'd come. Nothing was there, but he could imagine it, could imagine Takashi putting his life on the line to get a scan of the warden's face. He held his breath, his chest tightening, waiting for the alarms to start. The level he was on had lighter security, but it had all the sentries. He was getting better at hand-to-hand, but he wasn't good enough to take down all of the sentries. If he was lucky, if he could get his hands on one of their blasters, then maybe–

“I got it! Sending your way, Lance.”

Lance breathed out, his chest loosening. The controls on his forearm beeped, and he held out his hand. A hologram of the warden's head appeared in front of the scanner, and for a breathless moment Lance was terrified that it wouldn't take, that the scanner wouldn't be fooled.

The scanner beeped, the door sliding open.

Dashing inside the room, Lance spotted the figure laying on the lone bed. He looked around the room, looked for any sign of pressure plates or laser trip wires or hidden cameras, looked for hidden panels for trapdoors or mounted blasters to come out of, but there was nothing.

Stepping into the cell, Lance called out, “Are you Slav?”

The figure startled, scrambling up. They were a dull green color, with large owl eyes and a beak and eight arms.

“Ah!” The figure pointed at Lance with one of their arms. “You...” the figure squinted. “You are not wearing your color.”

“What?” Lance looked down at the black armor, then up at the figure. “How did you know that?”

“To answer your earlier question, I am indeed Slav.” Slav struck a pose. “And you are not wearing your color.” Slav stiffened, going into a full-body shiver. “Oh, no, is this a reality where the Black Paladin did not survive? I calculated the odds of his survival as quite good in this reality.”

“What? Hold on.” Lance reached up, turning on his comms. “I found Slav.”

He paused, listening to Takashi's response.

“I found – wait. Wait is this... a pupper?” Lance paused, looking at Slav in concern. “Oh quiznack! Big pupper! Big pupper! No! Stay! Bad pupper! Bad!”

Lance winced. “We have to go. Now. I'm with Voltron, we're here to rescue you. The Blade sent us.”

“Yes, yes, give me a moment.” Slave clambered off the bed, adjusting the rumpled blanket. Lance stared in disbelief.

“Is this... something you do?” Lance groaned. “Look, we really need to get a move on. There's only so long before the warden finds out that we've parked Blue–”

Slav paused. “Did you say blue? As in the Blue Lion?”

“I– yes?” He coughed. “Yes. I did. Now are you coming or do I have to carry you?”

Slav paused, tilting his head. “Is that an option? I foresee the success of this prison break going up 24 percent if I am carried.”

“Then I'm going to carry you,” Lance promised, walking over to Slav. “Now come on. I'm betting we're about to be found out.”

“In 76 percent of all realities, the alarms do not yet go off for several more doboshes,” Slav sagely replied, crawling so he was curled around Lance's shoulders. He was heavy, but nothing that Lance couldn't handle.

“Hold the phone.” Lance looked at Slav from the corner of his eye. “How can you possibly know that?”

“I am a bytor,” Slav replied. “We are naturally attuned to quintessense and– don't step there!”

Lance nearly tripped in his haste to stop. He looked forward, at a small puddle forming. “What.”

“It's a puddle,” Slav explained. “There is the possibility that if you step where you were about to, you would slip and I would fall in that puddle and drown!” Slav dragged his top two hands down his face. “I can already feel the water choking my lungs.”

Lance felt his eyebrow begin to twitch. “Okay, so how about I steer wide and clear of the puddle. Would that work?”

“It might,” Slav admitted, and Lance nearly groaned. “But keep careful crossing these doorways! There's a possibility of the doors slamming shut and slicing us in half, leaving half our bodies to flop and die!”

“...okay, this is such a fun mission, I'm so going to thank Kolivan for this,” Lance grumbled, crossing his arms. “And by thank, I mean I'm going to let Pidge punch him in the face. Or in the Galra nethers. Whichever is fine.”

It figured that when Kolivan said Slav was a genius recluse, what it really meant was an anxiety-ridden pile of genius engineer. Or Hunk on a really bad day, if Hunk didn't use sarcasm as a means of coping.

“Do not punch him!” Slav quivered. “Also, watch your pacing. There is a possibility of you tripping and both of us having our skeletons break from the fall.”

“You're a glass half empty kind of person, aren't you?” Lance asked. At Slav's blank look, he added, “It means someone who sees the worst in everything, even the worst case scenario.”

“It's because there is always the worst case scenario happening!” Slav gestured around them. “An infinite number of universes means that all possibilities are happening at once. The number of ones where I can die are so easily calculable that it's terrifying!” Slav shuddered.

“...so much fun,” Lance grumbled under his breath. Louder he said, “Alright, so you can calculate the odds of everything ever happening. That's pretty boring. It takes the spontaneous out of life. How can you be surprised if you already know the odds of everything happening?”

“It's more than that!” Slav cried. “I can do more than calculate the odds, I can– hold still!”

“Are you kidding me!” Lance growled, before scooting up to the wall as three sentries rounded the corner, going back the way that Lance and Slav had come. “Alright, looks like it's time for us to pick up the pace. Trust me, you're in the safest possible hands right now.”

“I'm not in any hands!” Slav replied, looking back behind them as Lance ran around the corner, back toward the hangar with Blue.

“Look, I just meant that Voltron is going to keep you safe.” Lance reached the access ladder, climbing up it and into the higher level. “Now keep quiet, will you. Even I know that staying quiet can increase the odds of us getting out of here.”

Lance ran into the hangar, where Takashi was chased by a hulking furry alien that kept barking at him.

“BAD PUPPER!” Takashi yelled. “THE ABSOLUTE WORST!”

“Uh.” Lance watched Takashi dive behind a storage box, the alien leaping past to attack and rip apart the trio of sentries standing by Blue. “What?”

“You freed the warden's pet Yupper?” Slav asked, climbing off of Lance's shoulders.

“I didn't mean to?” Takashi weakly asked. “He just spotted me and chased after me.”

“Why?” Lance asked, then snagged Pidge, ducking behind a box as the warden entered, running past them and toward the Yupper. “Someone better explain what's going on!”

“What's going is your little escape attempt ends here.” The warden snarled, two robot arms coming down from his back while he...

“Is he... Is he going full Bane?” Takashi asked, looking at Lance, then at the warden, who had grown to more than twice his height. “What kind of space steroids is he taking?”

“Move!” Lance cried, shoving Pidge out of the way as he was taken in hand by the warden.

“No!”Takashi cried, his lance materializing as he lunged at the warden. Pidge sprang into action, using their bayard to attack the warden from behind and getting him to let go of Lance.

Lance crashed to the floor, picking himself up and running toward Slav, who was standing at some kind of control panel. Glancing at Takashi, Lance yelled, “Toss me your bayard! I can distract him!”

Takashi nodded, and Lance managed to catch the blue bayard, his familiar rifle materializing. He aimed, even as Slav yelled out, “Put on your helmets!”

Lance tapped his helmet, turning on the full mask, and fired at the warden. In the far end of the hangar, the bay doors slammed open, sucking everything – and every one – out toward the vacuum of space.

“What the quiznack!” Lance cried, reaching out for Takashi and Pidge as they and Blue were pulled out. He looked back, spotting Slav in the warden's robot grip, the other hand digging into the metal of the bay. The doors began to close. “Guys, be ready to catch Slav!”

Lance breathed in, taking careful aim.

He breathed out.

He pulled the trigger.

Slav flew out, slamming into Pidge, and Lance started laughing as they entered Blue's airlock. The mission was a success, and all they had left was to return home, to the Castle.

“How are you not dead?” Pidge asked as Takashi slid into the Blue's seat. Lance reached out, offering his bayard back.

“I am a bytor,” Slav replied. “Bytors are resilient in low-atmosphere environments. But we do drown very easily.”

“Here.” Lance gestured with the bayard, feeling like he should be the one holding onto it instead. But he couldn't, because it wasn't his bayard. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Takashi spared a hand, taking hold of his bayard. His fingers brushed over Lance's, and even through the gloves he could feel the warmth of them.

“It's alright,” Takashi said, his voice warm, his smile soft. “I'd trust you with my bayard.”

“You don't mean that, do you?” Lance asked, his face flushing at the implication – coupled with the smirk Takashi was giving him, it was clearly intended.

“Any day,” Takashi replied. Lance's blush deepened.

“Blue is quite pleasant,” Slav popped up, looking over the console. Takashi yelped, turning to slap Slav away from the consoles. “It exists in 606 to 608 terahertz, which is my lucky range of terahertz.” He paused. “This technology is quite advanced for being over ten kilopheebs old.”

“Call the Castle,” Lance advised Takashi, walking around to help Pidge wrangle Slav away form the consoles. “Let Allura know the mission was a success.”

Chapter Text

“...anyway, we got Slav and we're on our way back now,” Lance finished, while Pidge and Shiro wrestled with Slav behind him. Pidge cursed, and Lance winced at the sound of someone being bodily thrown against the wall. In the back of his mind, stormy waters roiled, Blue's irritation at the infighting palpable.

“Is...” Allura squinted at the space behind Lance, frowning in confusion. “Lance, did Pidge just get tossed across the pilot's cabin? What is happening?”

“Everything's fine, Princess!” Shiro called out. He grunted, and Lance thought he heard Slav yelp, and Pidge cackled in victory. “Open the wormhole and we'll be back at the Castle soon enough.”

“Very well,” Allura sighed. “This was rather quicker than I anticipated. The wormhole will open at the edge of the system, close to Arus. I haven't made contact with the Balmerans yet, so you will have to travel there whilst I get the crystal.”

Lance blinked. “Oh. Uh, alright. I guess we'll see you in less than a varga instead of a couple ticks.”

Allura smiled. “I must say, you're getting quite proficient with telling universal time, Lance.”

“Well you know me,” Lance chuckled, putting his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “The most dashing and smart of all the Paladins.”

“Excuse you?” Pidge sputtered, while Allura flatly stared at him, unimpressed. “You're the smartest? You? The person who thought that a space dog was Slav?”

“It was very unclear!” Lance shot back. “Anyone could have made the same mistake.”

“That is true!” Slav piped up, and Shiro fell down beside Blue's seat, Slav curled around his shoulders. “In ninety-seven percent of all possible realities, a Paladin mistakes Laika for myself. In all possible realities, Laika is released no matter her identification.”

“...Laika?” Lance asked, while Shiro looked put out at how he was being used as a mount for Slav to rest on. “Is that the critter's name?”

“Yes,” Slav replied. “The warden named his pet Yupper Laika.”

“...they're called Yuppers?” Pidge appeared on the other side of the seat, rolling their eyes. “Of course they are.”

Allura looked at them all, suspicious and confused. “Yes, well, I will open the wormhole shortly.”

The call cut off, and Lance pulled up the scanners. He wasn't sure how long they had before the nearest commander was called in about the prison break, but he didn't want to get caught off guard. It was embarrassing enough, that he'd thought a space dog was Slav; Lance didn't want to end up getting in a battle with a fleet ship while the others ended up clinging to him and the seat.

“We wouldn't happen to be traveling by teludav, would we?” Slav hesitantly asked, and Shiro fumed, nearly throwing Slav onto Lance's lap as his face turned a deep shade of red.

“SO WHAT?!” Shiro shouted, and Lance expected smoke to come out of Shiro's mouth, he was that angry. Lance shared a shocked look with Pidge, who was staring at Shiro with the same sort of astonishment that Lance felt. “We're traveling by teludav, so you can count your beard hairs or pluck the lint from your clothes or whatever it takes for you to feel like we have the best chance of survival and deal with it!”

Slav quivered, holding up a hesitant hand. “Actually, I was going to say that traveling by teludav is a very efficient form of travel.”

Shiro turned around, quietly muttering under his breath. Lance tried to listen closely, but all he could make out was... the alphabet?

“Wait.” Pidge held up a hand, while ahead, the wormhole appeared. “The teludav uses Altean energy to work. Which is Allura and nobody else, since the Alteans all died out a super long time ago. How do you even know about the teludav?”

“Why, I've–” Slav yelped when they entered the wormhole, curling around Lance's shoulders while Pidge and Shiro grabbed onto Lance and Blue's chair for stability. Blue shuddered as they passed through, coming out the other side near Arus. Lance smiled, nostalgia hitting him as he guided Blue past it. It might have been two months, but it felt like forever ago that they had been spirited away to save the universe. He spotted Yellow ahead, and grinned.

“Hey, let's call up Hunk and Keith, see how they're doing,” Lance offered. “We can swap stories. I bet they had a boring time. Hunk's needed a boring mission for a while.” Slav peered down at Lance, who helpfully added, “Hunk's our Yellow Paladin. He's a super-genius engineer. You'll like him a lot, he gets anxious too.”

Slav nodded. “Yellow is far from the worst color out there. In fact, blue is my favorite color. It exists between 606 and 608 terahertz.”

“Cool.” Lance nodded. He peered at Shiro from the corner of his eye. “Is that good for your eyes or something?”

“No, it's just my lucky range of terahertz.” Slav seemed to beam, and Lance nodded.

“I like blue too,” Lance replied, still looking at Shiro. “It reminds me of the ocean, and home. I might be the Black Paladin over in my universe, but I do like that I get to pilot Blue here.” He tore his gaze away from Shiro, leaning in close to Slav. “Don't tell Black, but Blue's tied for my favorite lion.”

In the back of his mind, Lance felt Blue express her pleasure, whalesong echoing through his mind. Slav nodded solemnly.

“Naturally,” Slav replied. “In ninety-four percent of all possible realities, the Blue Lion is your favorite.”

“Hey,” Pidge spoke up. “You didn't answer my question. How do you know about the teludav?”

“I am an unparalleled genius engineer,” Slav answered, giving Pidge finger guns. Lance grinned. “I have studied all technologies, even Altean.”

“Is that because you wanted to, or because the Blade of Marmora wanted you to?” Shiro asked, appearing much calmer. Lance raised an eyebrow, but couldn't deny that he was curious about the answer too.

“I wanted to,” Slav said, nodding knowingly. “And I also needed to. Altean technology was ten kilopheebs before its time. The Galra and the rest of the universe have only just begun to match the Altean technology that existed before it was destroyed.”

Lance blinked in shock, while Shiro and Pidge shared a surprised look. They hadn't figured that, hadn't realized that the Altean technology was that advanced compared to the rest of the universe.

“You didn't know that?” Slav asked, tilting his head. He looked at Lance, specifically. “This is not a reality where you are Altean, then.”

Lance jerked, nearly sending Blue into a tailspin to the nearest planet – oddly, interestingly, the same one that he had been duped by Nyma.

“What?” he choked out, while Blue rumbled her displeasure at the near-crash.

“Lance?” Pidge asked in disbelief. “Altean?”

“He isn't Altean,” Shiro immediately said. “Lance is human, just like the – the other Paladins. We're all... human.” Quieter, almost too quiet to be heard, he muttered, “Or human enough to matter.”

“Oh, this reality.” Slav nodded. “Yes, yes. In 32 percent of all possible realities, Lance is Altean.” He looked over Pidge and Shiro. “In four percent of all possible realities, only one of the Paladins is human.”

“How do you even know that?” Pidge asked. Lance, meanwhile, redirected Blue back on the path of trailing behind Yellow. “That can't just be stuff that's normally calculated. What kind of algorithm are you running all this by?”

“No algorithms,” Slav replied. “The mathematics of space distortion and dimensional warping greatly overlap with the natural abilities of a bytor.” Slav nodded, crossing his arms – all of them. Lance shifted, glaring up at Slav in mild irritation. Could the bytor not keep still for a tick or ten? “We are aware of our states in all possible realities. The moment I believe a reality is possible, then I become aware of myself in all realities where that notion, such as where I am rescued from Beta Traz, are possible.” Slav shuddered. “Including every possible reality where I die.”

Lance felt for the guy, he really did, but–

Wait.

“Hold the phone.” Lance shimmied his shoulders, and Slav slumped off of him, falling onto Pidge, where he wrapped himself around them with a yelp. “Is that how you knew I'm not from this universe?”

“Incorrect!” Slav got up close to Lance's face, squinting at him suspiciously. “It is not the universe, but this reality. You are in the wrong reality. It is unusual.”

“But...” Lance swallowed. He looked at Shiro, who stared back, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “But you could figure out a way to reverse this? Get me back to my universe– reality– whatever?”

Slav blinked, eyes widening. He put a hand to his chin – or whatever counted as his chin, and hummed. “The possibility of returning you to your own reality is–”

The alarm blared, and Slav yelped, leaping to curl around Shiro's shoulders. Shiro stumbled back, thrown off balance, while Lance pulled up the cause for the alarm. The comms pulled up, and Lance looked at Allura in the Castle, the alarms blaring there.

“Paladins!” Allura cried, and through the screen the Castle rumbled. “Return to the Balmera immediately! Voltron is needed!”

Lance's gut grew cold, and he gunned the throttle, Blue overtaking Yellow. Pidge yelped while Slav screamed. Shiro took hold of Blue's chair, pulling himself up beside Lance to look at the screen. A second, smaller screen pulled up as Hunk and Keith were pulled into the comms.

“Don't worry, we're nearby. Hunk, you and Keith distract whatever's attacking the Castle long enough for the rest of us to get to our lions. Switch out when me, Pidge, and Lance come join you.” Shiro turned his attention to Allura. “What's attacking the Castle?”

“The robeast,” Allura grunted, and they saw the Castle shudder. “The one from before. It broke free from the Balmera, it's – somehow it's still alive. We need Voltron to defeat it.”

“How?” Hunk asked, while Shiro grimly nodded. Lance saw the Balmera come up before them, saw the distant glow of laser fire. “We couldn't stop it the last time! Also, I object to being live bait.”

“We were still learning then,” Shiro answered, calm and collected. “We're stronger than we were back then. And we've gone up against far worse and survived. We can do this.”

Hunk nodded, reaffirmed, and Lance gaped as the Castle came into view. It was in orbit above the Balmera, the particle barrier up and at full power. Blue roiled in his mind, and Lance jerked at the controls, pulling Blue into a tight barrel roll to avoid the darkly purple laser blasts. Behind Blue, Yellow came in charging, Hunk yelling as he deftly dodged the blasts.

The robeast looked almost nothing like it had before. The laser in the chest was gone, replaced with a massive purple crystal, and the head was missing entirely. Two crystals, just as purple and just as large as the robeast, floated lazy circles around it. Lance felt like it was looking at him, looking at Blue, and shivered. He remembered how hard it was to stop the robeast, remembered how it had taken their all just to knock it off its feet. The Balmera had been the one to stop it, had been the one to defeat it, not Voltron.

But that was before. Like Shiro said, Voltron was stronger than before. This team, his team, was stronger than before. Lance had nothing but the fullest faith in this team, and in his team as well, that Voltron could defeat this robeast for good.

Lance wondered if his team, back in his universe, was dealing with this robeast just the same. The thought did little to comfort him, that the universe had certain constants in how it worked.

“What is that?!” Slav screeched, curling tighter around Shiro's shoulders, and Lance winced.

“That is a robeast,” Pidge answered, not looking away from it. “But it's more robot than beast.”

“How is it still alive?” Lance asked, breathless. “It's– there's no head...”

“We can worry about that later.” Shiro's gaze flickered toward the Castle, where the particle barrier flickered, going down under the onslaught of blasts from the robeast. “Drop us off, then join Hunk and Keith. Do whatever you can to keep the robeast away from the Balmera and the Castle. We'll follow after you.”

“Yes, sir.” Lance piloted Blue toward the main hangar. He glanced at Slav, still quivering atop Shiro's shoulders. “What about Slav?”

Shiro glanced at Slav, and grimaced. “I'll take him up to the bridge. Allura will need help, since Coran isn't there. She can't pilot the Castle alone.”

“I would be delighted to view Altean mechanics in action!” Slav preened, and Lance grunted as they entered the main hangar amidst blaster fire. He sailed down to the floor, landing long enough for the button to eject to pop up.

“Alright, hang on to your Slav,” Lance muttered. Louder he said, “Roll with the landing, it'll hurt less.”

“Hurt wha–” Pidge shrieked alongside Slav as Lance pressed the button, dropping them, Shiro, and Slav from Blue and out into the hangar.

“Sorry! Gotta go fast!” Lance called out, turning Blue in place and launching out as fast as possible.

“You son of a Yelmore!” Pidge screamed after him, already on the move toward Green's hangar.

Lance laughed on the way out, turning into a shriek as he spiraled out of the way of another blast from the robeast. Zombeast? Lance didn't care, he just wanted it gone.

Red sped past him, and Lance blinked in surprise as she went toward – “Keith, what the cheese?! Did you eject from Yellow?”

“Keith what?” Shiro asked over the comms, and Lance winced. “What's going on?”

“Keith told me to hang back while he shot out of Yellow, and I thought he was joking, but apparently not?!” Hunk hysterically explained. “Since when did his Lion come to save him every time he calls? My Lion doesn't come to save me every time I'm in trouble!”

“That's because Red has to deal with the reckless force that is Keith,” Pidge replied. “Compared to him, your anxiety is a simple fix.”

“I'm not reckless,” Keith replied over the comms. “I figured Red would come since she always does. She's a good kitty like that.” He paused, then growled, “I'm not!”

“This is a beautiful moment in history, folks,” Pidge announced. “Let this day go down as the day that Keith got told off by his own Lion for pulling a bunch of reckless stunts.”

“I'm not reckless,” Keith growled, and Lance chuckled.

“It's alright, Keith,” he assured Keith. “You're just following your instincts.”

“Thank you, Lance.” Keith paused. “...that was an insult, wasn't it?”

“Half insult, half compliment.” Lance shrugged. “I'm tired from having to rush here and– whoa!”

Lance swerved, the laser blast clipping Blue. Lance growled alongside Blue, pulling out the sonic cannon and sending a directed, intense blast right at the robeast. He grinned viciously at the thought of watching the robeast's crystals shatter, leaving it defenseless for everyone to shoot it into oblivion.

Instead, he watched as the two crystals circling the robeast stopped, coming together to form a shield that blocked Lance's sonic attack. “Hold the phone, it can shield?”

“Lance, move!” Keith came from behind Lance, blasting at the robeast, hitting the shield and covering it with lava. Lance blinked, narrowing his eyes in thought. That was interesting– had Keith done that in the past, it would have been met with blaster fire. His grin returned, just as vicious, and recalled the sonic cannon.

The shield came away, the two crystals crackling with electric energy as they repelled the lava. They glowed, the electricity crackling between the crystals and the robeast, charging the crystal in the robeast's chest, and Lance yelped as a laser blast, larger and, it seemed, more powerful than before, shot at Pidge.

“Guys, what do we do?” Hunk asked, dodging the smaller blasts as the robeast continued the onslaught. Pidge and Keith fired at the robeast from opposite sides, but the crystals moved to block both lasers. “It keeps blocking our hits and it hits us a lot more than we hit it.”

“The shield's the key,” Lance answered. “It makes the thing blind. Keith, you saw it too, yeah?”

“I did,” Keith confirmed. “It didn't blast me when I attacked the shield. It didn't seem like it knew I was even there.”

“Where's Shiro?” Pidge asked, flying close to Lance.

“I'm here!” Shiro called out, pulling out of the Castle in Black. Behind him, the Castle's particle barrier flickered to life. “I heard everything. Everyone, fly close together. Keith, Pidge, you're with me; we're going to fire at the robeast and force it to make the shield. Lance, hang back and prepare to fire. You'll ice the shield shut. Once that's done, we'll form Voltron and use the sword to strike.”

“Got it, Captain!” Lance would have saluted, but it wasn't the time. Everyone gathered around Shiro, dodging the robeast's laser blasts. “Ready and waiting.”

“Now!” Shiro, Pidge, and Keith all fired at the robeast, and the shield came up to stop the combined attack. Lance grinned, pushing his all into Blue's ice blast, and coated the shield in as thick and as thorough a coating as he could manage. “Form Voltron!”

Blue's voice melded with the others, becoming the rain and sleet of the hurricane. Lance felt as much as saw Keith pull out the sword, and quick as lightning, they struck. The sword sliced through the iced-over shield, sliced through the robeast, in the dead center of its chest. The shield cracked, shattering apart, and they pulled back, watching as the robeast drifted away, cracks spreading along its body from the shattered crystal in its chest. Voltron's sword vanished, sheathed once more, as the robeast exploded into dust.

Lance crowed in victory, listening to everyone else as they laughed and cheered, and felt Voltron detach, felt the hurricane come apart.

“Alright, team, let's head back to the Castle,” Shiro commanded, but Lance could hear the smile on his face. “I'd say we've more than earned a small vacation.”

“Oh! Are we going to visit Shay?” Hunk asked, and Lance grinned. Hunk and Shay's friendship was one of the best things to ever come out of this whole thing with Voltron, and Lance was glad that Hunk got to keep it in this universe. “I want to see how she's doing. Maybe see how their food's changed now that they can roam the surface. Can we stay for a meal?”

“I'm not sure,” Shiro replied. “We do have to meet with Coran on Olkarion, remember?”

“Oh. Oh yeah.” Hunk's nod could practically be heard, even as Allura chimed in on the comms.

“Excellent work, Paladins.” Allura popped up in a video feed, pulling everyone into little video feeds on the bottom of Lance's screen. “Now, once you return to the Castle I can land back on the Balmera. Unfortunately, the robeast's freedom interrupted gathering the crystal. We will be here for another varga at least. So yes, Hunk, you are free to visit Shay.”

“Yes!” Hunk cheered, fist-pumping in victory. Inside the Castle, the alarm went off. “No!”

“What now?” Lance groaned, slowing his trip toward the Castle's hangar.

“Did the robeast call in more Galra?” Pidge asked.

“Who are we fighting?” Keith wondered, looking ready to fight.

“Is the Balmera hurt?” Hunk whimpered, slumped over in Yellow's chair.

“Nothing like that,” Allura replied distractedly. “It appears one of the podships is calling the Castle.”

“Coran?” Shiro asked, pulling into the hangar. Allura's face went flat as she answered the call.

“No.” Allura sighed. “Kolivan.”

“Greetings. I am Antok.” Even through the feed, Antok's voice came through clear as day. “Kolivan has sent me to join with you as a liaison between Voltron and the Blade. If you could prepare a teludav jump, I can easily travel to your location.”

“Why could Kolivan himself not come?” Allura asked, looking like she'd rather not be having this conversation. Allura didn't look happy at the idea of a Galra staying with them, and Lance made a note to talk with her about her thoughts on the alliance with the Blade. “Or leave a method of contacting the Blade with Keith and Shiro. Why send you, and why now?”

“Keith is a fresh initiate,” Antok replied, and in the corner of Lance's screen, he spotted Keith shift, looking uncomfortable at the inclusion. “Events moved too swiftly to educate him on the proper communication codes. Even then, I have a means of corresponding with Kolivan directly. He himself would be coming with me, but the Blade has need of its leader. As such, I have been entrusted to act as the liaison until such time as Kolivan can meet with you directly.”

Allura looked like she'd swallowed a sour lemon, and took a deep breath. “Very well. I shall open a wormhole to–”

“Is that Antok?” Slav appeared on the screen, and Lance saw everyone look taken aback, matching his own expression. Allura looked put out as Slav ran about her excitedly. “Antok, it is you! Hello, old friend! It's been several spicolian movements since we last talked.”

“Slav.” Antok's voice softened a touch, a fondness that Lance knew meant a close friendship. “It's heartening to hear you again after so long. How has that game of vaklin against yourself been going?”

“Terrible,” Slav bemoaned. “I'm winning.”

Lance snickered. He couldn't help it, the casualness of the situation getting to him. Shiro shot him an annoyed look, but refocused on Allura.

“Well, since we're not going anywhere, I think we can afford to open a wormhole for him.” Shiro offered Allura a disarming smile. She, however, didn't buy it.

“Perhaps,” Allura hedged. “However, our current mission is quite delicate. I do not believe your presence could be anything other than a hindrance.”

“Fancy word,” Pidge dryly commented.

“Come on, Allura, just open the wormhole,” Keith groaned, Red already turning away from the hangar. “I can go meet up with him and fly him here.”

Allura glanced at Keith, before focusing on getting away from Slav. “As it stands, we could not open a wormhole any time before the mission is complete.”

Lance frowned, while Keith huffed in annoyance. Did Allura just ignore Keith? “Actually, we're not doing anything right now. One of us could go out and meet with him.”

Allura frowned at Lance, but grimaced when Slav overheard and started gushing about how it would increase the likelihood of Antok arriving safely. “Very well. I will open up a wormhole to your coordinates. The Blue Lion will meet you on the other side to escort the podship to the Castle.”

“What?” Lance shook his head, looking at his equally baffled teammates. “But Keith's already on the way.”

“Lance is right, Princess,” Shiro confirmed. “Keith can go travel with Antok. They can be here and back in less than... ten doboshes? If that?”

Keith rolled his eyes in annoyance as Allura almost glared at Shiro. “The Red Lion, then.”

The video feed cut off, and Lance pulled up the private comm, separate from the Castle. “Uh, did anyone else get the feeling Keith was being iced out?”

“Not just you,” Keith grumbled.

“Dude, I told you, give her time,” Hunk consoled. “She can't get over that the last Galra on team Voltron was Zarkon. You just need to prove that you aren't Zarkon, which, easy-peasy.”

“Yes, Hunk, it's totally a twelve-step program,” Pidge dryly remarked.

“Step one: Don't be a megalomaniac,” Lance offered with a smile. “Keith, you've already got that one in the bag. And don't worry, I can talk with Allura again. I think she's needs an outlet or something. She's already trying, though. This could be a lot worse!”

“In what way?” Keith growled. “She's already ignoring me. You basically repeated what I said, and she had to listen to Shiro before letting me go meet up with Antok!”

“Calm down, Keith,” Shiro gently commanded. “Go get Antok, and we'll still be at the Balmera.”

“Hunk will want to spend as much time as he can flirting it up with Shay,” Pidge added, and Lance's jaw dropped. “We'll be here all day at that rate.”

“Hunk what?” Lance landed in the main hangar, turning Blue to look at Yellow. “But– but you and Shay aren't– what?”

“Thank you, Lance,” Hunk groaned. “You're forever my favorite best friend.”

“I just–” Lance flailed in the cockpit, scrambling out to rush toward Hunk. “You! And Keith and Pidge! You guys aren't – you're not a thing?”

“What the quiznack have you been smoking?” Pidge asked in disbelief. “And where can I–”

“Pidge!” Shiro interrupted, mortified. “No space weed!”

“It's a legitimate question!” Pidge retorted, hopping out of Green.

“But you three!” Lance pointed out. “You and Hunk and Keith all in one big platonic cuddle pile! I didn't realize you guys weren't a thing, how aren't you a thing? The three of you are the most platonic datefriends I've ever seen.”

“Yeah, I'm out.” Pidge turned away, heading toward the elevator. Hunk ran out of Yellow, past Lance and toward the elevator. What little he could see of Hunk's face was a deep red. “I am not finding out what alternate universe me is doing with two people at once.”

“Sleeping, mostly,” Lance called out, jogging after them. “Also hugs. You and Keith both love Hunk's hugs. I can confirm that they're the absolute best.”

“Not listening!” Pidge sang, and Lance laughed.

“Alright,” he conceded, holding up his hands in surrender. Stepping into the elevator, Lance shot Hunk an apologetic grin, and turned to face the door. He came face to face with Shiro, who was smiling.

“So are they a romantic trio in your universe then?” Shiro asked, and Pidge shrieked, leaping at Shiro.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” Pidge shrieked, scrabbling to cover his mouth, while Shiro dodged, laughing. Lance burst out laughing, covering his mouth in surprise and stepping away when Pidge turned their gaze at him, eyes blazing with righteous fury.

“No.” He shook his head, words still bubbling with laughter. “Pidge, don't do anything – aaahh!”

Pidge leaped off of Shiro, landing on Lance and sending him falling back. He wrapped his arms around Pidge, trying to keep them steady and safe as the two of them fell to the floor, Lance breaking Pidge's fall. Lance wound up on his back, Pidge straddling him, and the two looked down at their position before cracking up. Hunk and Shiro shared a look, before breaking down laughing too.

Laughter was how they entered the bridge, where Allura was showing Slav the Castle's blueprints.

“....ziplines were very fashionable during Altea's prime!” Allura finished, turning to look toward the source of the laughter. Pidge scrambled off of Lance, while Shiro and Hunk reached down to pull him to his feet in one smooth move. Lance stumbled, but a firm hand at his back steadied him.

“Thanks...” Lance trailed off when he sourced the hand to Shiro, not Hunk. “Uh. Thanks, captain?”

Shiro smiled, although it didn't manage to reach his eyes. “Is there any chance you can go back to calling me Shiro? I, uh, hearing you call me captain feels wrong.”

Lance glanced at the main screen as they left the elevator behind, saw Allura piloting the Castle back down to the Balmera. “Maybe once this mission is done. Wouldn't want to seem unprofessional, Captain Shirogane.”

“You're not unprofessional!” Shiro yelped, then lowered his voice when Pidge and Allura glanced over. Hunk and Slav were deep in discussion on removing and replacing the ziplines with something that was less hard on the arms, while Allura was insisting that the Castle was perfectly fine as it stood. “You're not. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way. It's just that sometimes the way you make a joke out of everything can be off-putting.”

“I make jokes to diffuse the tension,” Lance replied, just as quietly. He had half an eye on Hunk, knowing for a fact that the ziplines getting replaced were for Shiro's sake. None of them really liked when Shiro put his full body weight on his prosthetic arm, no matter how well connected it was to the rest of his body. “I'll tell you the same thing I told Allura a week ago – if everything was serious one hundred percent of the time, then morale would crash and burn.”

“Morale?” Shiro blinked, eyes widening in shock. “I... I didn't realize...”

“We're a bunch of kids fighting an intergalactic war,” Lance quietly explained. “We need fun in our lives. Sometimes we just need to be kids. Yourself included.”

“I'm not a kid,” Shiro insisted. “I'm older than you.”

“Not by that much,” Lance snorted. “You're barely pushing twenty. Listen, you deserve to have fun and relax just as much as the rest of us. More, even, considering you haven't been back on Earth for, like...” Lance paused, holding up his fingers to count before flinging his hands in the air. “A long time!”

“I'll relax once we've defeated Zarkon,” Shiro promised, although Lance didn't like that. It felt like Shiro was putting off his own well-being for some distant future. “As soon as the universe doesn't need Voltron, then I'll settle back and drink a pineapple smoothie by the beach, or something.”

Or, it felt like Shiro was settling for never looking after himself like he should. Lance frowned. “With all due respect, sir, but that's the biggest bag of–”

“Keith to Castle. I'm coming in with Antok.” Everyone was pulled out of their discussions, and looked toward the main screen, where Keith looked down at them, an eyebrow raised. “Did you want us to meet you up in the bridge or should I bring him to a guest room before going to meet up with you?”

Allura grimaced. “Bring him along. It's not as though I can hide that we have a guest from the Balmerans.”

The Castle rumbled as it landed, and Hunk turned, scooping everyone up in his arms as he ran toward the landing module. “Cool, cool. Keith, as soon as you park Red meet us in the landing pod.”

Lance laughed, happily letting himself get dragged along, and reached out for Slav to clamber onto himself and Shiro. The two of them were under one arm, while Allura and Pidge were under the other. “Come on, space genius, let's go meet with Antok.”

“Yes!” Slav nodded, beaming. “Antok is a brilliant vaklin player. I can only beat him in 43 percent of all possible realities. And it is very difficult to beat a bytor at vaklin.”

“Is that like space chess?” Lance asked. “Because I'm good at chess. Really good.”

“Vaklin is played on a cube, with each player setting a point. The more points the player lays, the more cubic mass they gain,” Slav animatedly explained, while Shiro watched it happen with a small smile on his face. “The game ends with one player concedes, or there is no more cubic mass to claim for either side. Then they count up the mass of the cube each player has gained, and whoever has more is the winner.” Slav perked up when the module stopped at the main hangar, the doors opening to reveal Keith and Antok. Antok canted his head at the sight of everyone in Hunk's arms. Hunk sheepishly let them go, and Allura straightened up, shooting Hunk a quick glare before warming up – if only slightly – to Antok. “Ah, it is a... pleasure to have you aboard the Castle.”

“I am honored to be here, Princess.” Antok got to his knee, bowing before her. He reached up, pulling off his hood. The mask shimmered, fading away to reveal... a very fuzzy face. Antok was furry, that much was clear, and looked like the same type of Galra that Sendak was.

“Are you from the same region as Sendak?” Hunk blurted out, then winced. “Sorry, that's rude. I shouldn't have asked.”

Antok stood, and Lance saw his face more, saw the red and white coloration in his fur, twin lines framing his face. “It is no bother. And I am not of the same regional descent as Commander Sendak. I am much closer in descent to Kolivan.”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I see it.”

Antok glanced at Slav, his face softening. “Old friend. It is good to see you.”

Slav squirmed away from Lance and Shiro, rushing forward to hug Antok. “Indeed. In 84 percent of realities, we do not manage to meet again.”

“And yet here we are,” Antok commented, letting Slav lead him into the landing module. “Are we going to meet the people of this Balmera? Is that wise?”

“Perhaps not for you,” Allura commented, her voice light but her words heavy. “But it is necessary. I was interrupted by an attack before I could gather the crystal needed to power the teludav.”

“You should see the state of this technology,” Slav said. “Altean technology is quite modern in this quintant. You would hardly believe that it's ten kilopheebs old!” He squinted at Allura. “Although they have an abundance of design for aesthetic purpose over practical. The main entrance is on the fortieth floor. And they have ziplines, Antok. They have hover technology!”

“Yes!” Hunk agreed. “Castle's getting a makeover, it's agreed.”

“Hold the phone,” Lance interrupted. “Maybe we can get the crystal and go meet up with Coran before talking about doing a remodel.” He grinned. “Besides, I thought you were excited to meet Shay again.”

“I'm still excited to see her and the Balmerans!” Hunk protested. “Now let's go! The Balmerans aren't going to visit themselves! Except... they do. All the time. Because they live here.”

Hunk slumped, and Pidge patted his elbow in consolation. Lance's grin faded into a smile, and he reached out, lightly slugging Hunk in the arm. “My man, you made your point. Now perk up. Is this really the Hunk of burning love you want Shay to see?”

Hunk stood up straighter, fire in his eyes. “Nope!”

“That's the spirit!” Lance laughed.

 The Balmera looked livelier than before, and it left a good feeling in Lance to see it like that. Shay and her grandmother led the group of Balmerans, and she visibly brightened as Hunk practically ran out past Allura.

“Shay!” Hunk cried, running to meet her, and laughed when she pulled him into a hug, lifting Hunk and spinning him around. “It's been so long!”

“It has been far too many spicolian movements since we last saw each other,” Shay agreed, a smile on her face. “You look well.”

“You too.” Hunk looked around, still grinning, still in Shay's hold. “And look at the Balmera!”

“It's looking healthier,” Shiro commented.

“The Balmera has been healing well since the Galra were removed,” Shay's grandma confirmed. She waved at the nearby cave. “Come along. With all of you here, the crystal the Princess has requested of Balmera can grow much faster.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Hunk nodded, squirming in Shay's hold to look at Allura excitedly. “Let's help the Balmera!”

“Sister, please do not carry Hunk the whole way,” Rax commented, although he had a soft smile on his face to see everyone. He gestured for everyone to follow, and stiffened as Slav stepped out of the landing module, a maskless Antok in tow. “Galra!”

The Balmerans gathered together, pulling Allura and the Paladins into their ranks as they squared to fight. Antok stopped, looking over the Balmerans warily, and gently pushed Slav behind him as he reached for his blade.

“Whoa, hey!” Lance pushed his way out with the others. He stood between the Balmerans with the other Paladins, hands up in a disarming gesture. “Hold the phone! Antok's with us. He's one of the good guys.”

Slav squeaked, looking from the Balmerans to Antok warily. “There is a 29 percent possibility of this ending in bloodshed.”

“And what is that?” Rax warily asked, waving an arm at Slav.

“This isn't ending in bloodshed,” Shiro said, glaring at Antok.

“His name is Slav,” Lance explained to Rax. “He's an engineer, like Hunk.”

“And the Galra?” Shay asked, looking at Hunk for an answer. “He is your prisoner?”

“Antok is...” Hunk looked at Lance, who nodded. “A friend. We found some good Galra, they're helping us take down Zarkon.”

“Good... Galra?” Shay shared a look with her grandma. “Is there such a thing?”

Keith winced, while Antok looked annoyed at the suspicion. Lance looked at Allura, saw how she stood at the edge of the Balmerans, looking far too hesitant.

“A few of them are good,” Lance admitted, when no one spoke up. “We were helped by some. This one named Ulaz, he helped Shiro escape a while back. Without him, there wouldn't be a Voltron to save anyone.”

“And Thace!” Pidge added. “There's this Galra working in Zarkon's ship. He helped us escape when we charged the center of the empire to save Allura.”

“You charged after Zarkon's own ship?” Slav squeaked. “The percentage of you surviving without aid is, is... I don't want to calculate it! It is certain death!”

“And we're still alive,” Lance said, nodding.

“And now we're allied with this group,” Keith spoke up. “The Blade of Marmora. That's what Antok is a part of. They're helping us plan a final attack to take down Zarkon for good.”

“I do not trust this Galra,” Rax snarled, as Shay wavered. Their grandma looked at Allura, who straightened up.

“Yes, we are allied with this organization,” Allura finally, finally spoke up. “They have resources and knowledge about Zarkon and his empire that we do not, and... they have yet to prove themselves as trustworthy, but that does not mean that I am not willing to give them the chance. They have helped us so far, and for that the Blade has my thanks.”

Lance smiled, impressed. He hadn't thought Allura was going to step forward, because she had every reason not to

“He will not step one foot more onto the Balmera,” Rax snarled. “The Galra have done enough damage.”

Rax gestured to the side. Lance looked, seeing the huge crystal structure nearby, the upper edges of it tinted a deep purple. It figured, somehow, that they would have this conversation in the shadow of the crystal that held the robeast.

“Fine,” Keith bit out. “I'll take Antok and go hang back in the Castle. Would that make you happy?”

“I'll go with you,” Lance added, when Allura looked fit to protest. “We can do a tour of the Castle, since Coran isn't here to give it.”

“Yeah, fine.” Keith waved at the Balmerans, turning away to head back to the Castle. He looked at Antok, who nodded.

“A tour of the Castle would be acceptable,” Antok replied. “Given the chance, I would like to see for myself how Altean archetecture is largely aesthetic over functionality.”

“The entrance is on the fortieth floor!” Slav repeated, walking alongside them. Lance moved to catch up, giving Hunk and the others a smile.

“Don't have too much fun, yeah?” Lance called back, heaving toward the landing module. He jabbed a thumb at the module. “I'll see if this can be sent back without anyone inside.”

“Do not bother,” Allura sighed. “The crystal would be too large to fit. I would ask Hunk to retrieve the Yellow Lion to carry it into the hangar.”

“What, seriously?” Hunk asked as Lance shut the door to the module.

“So,” Lance began, looking over Keith and Antok as they walked into the kitchen, showing Slave the food goo dispenser. “I don't think we had the chance to really talk since you left for the Blade.”

“Did Shiro apologize?” Keith asked, looking at Lance. “I told him too. Made him promise and everything.”

“He did,” Lance said, looking at Keith suspiciously. “Remember what I said about avoiding talking about things?”

Keith groaned. “What do you want to know, Lance?”

“Why are you the reason we even have an alliance with the Blade?” Lance asked, looking from Keith to Antok. “What happened on the base that caused Red to attack?”

“Keith took the trials of Marmora,” Antok replied before Keith could. “They are strenuous upon the body and mind. We did not anticipate how much it would affect that beast.”

“Can you stop calling Red a beast?” Keith asked, annoyed. Slav looked over from where he was sighting the goo dispenser hose, before turning his attention back to the kitchen. “She's a kitty. A good kitty.”

“That good kitty of yours destroyed half of our base,” Antok flatly replied.

“Exactly!” Lance gestured at the two of them. “So tell me why she did that. You came back injured, and that's not something you can wave away by saying that it's why Red attacked. That's not an answer; it's called avoiding, and it's flying into mattress of lies territory.”

“The trials are not for you to know,” Antok said, glaring at Lance. “They are for initiates and fellow members only.”

“Well, quiznack that,” Lance retorted, matching Antok's glare. “You can't just say that Keith fought half your base and not say anything else, that's–”

“I saw Shiro.” Lance turned to see Keith looking away, looking ashamed. “I don't know how, but – there was a Shiro there. Or something that looked like him.”

“The suit is designed to connect to your mind,” Antok said, drawing Lance's attention. “At the point of physical exhaustion, it shows you what you most want to see at that moment.”

Lance gaped, looking from Antok to Keith in shock. “What.”

“Wait, so it wasn't just that the suit was pinching?” Keith's brow furrowed, and he glanced at Antok warily. “You were digging through my mind?”

“The effect is harmless,” Antok answered, as if that made it any better. “The room projects what you most want to see, and you must make a choice – to gain what you desire, or to let it go and fight against the empire.”

“So he was never going to learn who his mom is?” Lance asked, voice low and cold. He glanced at Keith. “What did the fake Shiro say? What did he do that upset you so bad Red thought you were in danger?”

“He...” Keith shifted, clearly uncomfortable and on the verge of upset. Lance balked, the anger melting away.

“Come on, sit down.” He reached out, gently guiding Keith toward the table, toward one of the seats. “Take your time. You don't have to answer immediately.”

“I can't lose him again.” Keith's voice was quiet, freezing Lance in place. Keith looked up at Lance, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I lost him once. I can't. Not again.”

Lance jerked into motion, pulling Keith into a hug. “It's okay. Nobody's going anywhere. Especially not Shiro. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“You're going to leave, though,” Keith said, burying his head into Lance's shoulder. “You're going to go back to your universe and I just – I can't lose you too.”

Lance stiffened, face falling. One hand rubbed Keith's back, soothing the quiet sobs, while the other reached up to curl through Keith's hair.

“That's different,” Lance eventually said. “And it's not like I'm really leaving. Your Lance is going to be coming back. He's over in my universe being me, so when he comes back, it'll be like I never left.”

It was half a lie, but one that he hoped Keith believed. One that Lance hoped that he himself believed. That the other Lance would come back more like himself. That Keith, this Keith, and his Keith, wouldn't close off when both Lances were back where they were supposed to be. That the other Lance would be everything that this Keith needed him to be.

Slav popped up around the back of the chair, and Lance locked eyes with him.

“Is there more to see?” Slav asked, and Keith pulled away with a yelp, hurriedly wiping his eyes dry. Antok watched from near the door, impassive. “And is this food goo all there is to eat? It's very... green.”

“There's more,” Lance said, straightening up. “And I'm sorry, but for now... yeah. But we're going to Olkarion, and I'll make sure Hunk knows to stock up on food that isn't goo.”

Slav nodded, satisfied. “And the Red Paladin is emotionally stable now?”

“I am.” Keith sniffled, still rubbing his eyes clean. Clearing his throat, he repeated, “I am.”

“I wasn't aware humans leaked so much from their eyes,” Antok remarked. “Is that a normal thing?”

“It's called crying,” Lance replied, gently glaring at Antok. “And it's an emotional response. Do Galra just... not cry? That would explain so much about Zarkon. If he's just emotionally constipated and needs a good cry.”

“Our eyes only produce what is necessary, no more.” Antok tilted his head, ears and tail flicking. “If they begin to produce excess fluids, then it means something is wrong.” He smiled, just a little. “I do not think Zarkon can be fixed by fluids leaking from his eyes.”

“Well humans cry when we experience intense emotions,” Lance explained, looking at where Keith was shifting from foot to foot, impatient. “It's about as normal as anything else.” He moved toward the door, wanting to change the subject. What Keith went through felt far too personal for Slav and Antok to have watched. “So next up, let's see the bridge.”

Allura and the others were present on the bridge when they arrived. Her eyes hardened when they landed on Keith and Antok, before her face fell as Slav entered the room.

“Well, you were right,” Antok remarked, smirking as he spotted Allura's expression. “Alteans designed for the aesthetic over the practical.”

Allura twitched, and Lance had to cover his laughter with a cough. He hadn't realized that Antok had a sense of humor, and found that he liked the Blade just a bit because of it. Hunk looked sad to be leaving the Balmera, and Lance made a note to stop by and see that he was still doing okay.

“Yes, well, we're leaving for Olkarion now.” Allura stepped up to the podium, while Lance pointed Slav in the direction of Hunk and Pidge. Shiro moved toward the trio, looking directly at Lance.

“So did the tour run smoothly?” he asked the moment he was near enough for quiet conversation.

“The technology is remarkable,” Antok said. “The Alteans were truly ahead of their time. It's only in recent decapheebs that the Galra or any other species has begun to recreate this lost technology. Truly remarkable.”

“I guess,” Shiro admitted, shrugging. “Honestly, most of this technology is beyond anything Earth is capable of. Maybe in a hundred or a hundred-fifty years, but not now.”

“...what are years?” Antok asked. “Is that a unit of time on your planet?”

“And I'm out,” Lance said, bowing. “His questions and problems are now yours, fearless leader. Keith, wanna come hang with me over there? Leave Shiro and Antok to discuss all things Earth?”

Keith looked at Shiro, before nodding. “Yeah. It's been a long day. I could use some down time.”

Shiro glanced at Lance in surprise, before nodding, proud. Antok redirected Shiro's attention back on him. “So what units of time measurement has your planet created? And how was it created?”

Shiro grimaced, while Lance all but cackled as he pulled Keith away and toward Hunk.

“So you need a hug,” Lance declared, arm slung over Keith's shoulder. “And Hunk gives the best hugs, no lie. I've got the word of you from my universe.”

“Well, how can I argue with myself,” Keith grumbled, but he was smiling. Lance grinned, waving at Hunk.

“Hunk! My sun and stars!” Lance pointed at Keith. “You got a hug ready for Keith? He's doubting the hidden wonder of the universe that is your hugs.”

“He what?” Hunk blinked, looking from Lance to Keith, who sheepishly smiled and half-heartedly waved at Hunk as Lance squeezed his shoulders. “Oh. Oh, yeah, dude. I can totally give out a solid hugging.”

“Sweet!” Lance shoved Keith, who stumbled forward – and stumbled forward more as the Castle shuddered, entering the wormhole. Keith nearly fell into Hunk's arms, and fell slack, eyes wide as Hunk squeezed.

“Oh.” Keith stared out into space, falling limp in Hunk's hold, letting the hug tighten. His cheeks turned a light pink. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded, satisfied. Keith needed something more than himself, needed someone more than Lance, and Hunk was the perfect response. Hunk was a terrific person to listen to, and he freely and openly gave hugs – and gave the best hugs, no matter what universe.

The Castle shuddered again, and Lance reached out, grabbing onto the nearest object and holding tight. He was getting better, but it would still be a while before he was okay passing through a wormhole.

“Uh.” Lance turned to see everyone staring at him – or rather, staring at his hand. He turned to see Shiro standing beside him, and he followed Shiro's gaze down to where Lance had wrapped his hand around Shiro's.

“Oh!” Lance pulled away, face starting to go aflame. “Sorry. I'm sorry. Wormholes just leave me kind of quietly freaking out since the swap, I didn't mean to, like, snatch your hand.”

Shiro was still staring at his hand, flexing the metal fingers, staring at it like he'd never seen it before. He blinked, turning his attention toward Lance, although he still seemed distracted. “It's – it's fine. Are you alright, though? If the wormholes scare you...”

“I'm fine.” Lance grimaced. “Okay, I'm not. I know that wormhole travel is supposed to be safe and all, but I just... I get really tense, because the last time something went wrong with a wormhole, I got pulled away from my team and my universe and I really don't want to relive that again.”

“Lance, it's okay.” Shiro reached out, taking Lance's hand back in his. “You had a bad experience and it changed you, but you're in control of the situation now. You're back in control, and that's what you can count on the most. It won't happen again. We won't let it.”

Lance blinked, looking from Shiro's hand to Shiro. He had the sense that Shiro wasn't talking about Lance, not entirely.

“Thanks,” Lance breathed, letting some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. He squeezed Shiro's hand, experimentally, and Shiro gave him an encouraging nod. “It – that helps. A little.”

Shiro smiled, his gaze softening just a little, and Lance felt like he was looking at his Shiro, for a moment. He smiled back, a little sad, and held onto Shiro's hand a little gentler, a little steadier.

“Now let's go meet with Coran and the Olkari.” Shiro nodded, looking up toward the main screen, where they exited the wormhole. Lance glanced at Keith, still in Hunk's grip, still with a faint blush on his face, and then looked up at Olkarion as the Castle approached it. He was aware, still, of the fact that Shiro hadn't pulled his hand away from Lance's.

It was a small act, it probably meant little to Shiro, but it meant everything to Lance. Things were going to be okay.

Chapter Text

“...so we've got Slav and we're coming in,” Takashi finished, while Slav curled around Lance's waist to look at the console. Lance yelped, tilting backwards, toward the seat, and fell into Takashi's lap. Allura gasped, watching it happen with the slightest of smiles on her face, while Pidge groaned. Lance locked eyes with Takashi even as he reached out, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. They stared at each other, eyes wide, and Lance felt his cheeks flare up.

“Uh,” Lance wheezed as Slav clambered all over him and onto Takashi's shoulders, excitedly looking all over the console, before pausing. Slav looked between Lance and Takashi, before popping up straight, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Ah!” He pointed at them both. “You are together in this reality!”

Lance shared a look with Takashi, hurriedly hopping out of his lap.

“How can you tell?” Takashi asked, raising an eyebrow. Slav seemed to sparkle, and Lance lunged, going for the comms.

“Anyway Allura our mission was a success open a wormhole and we'll come right to you thanks bye!” He slapped the button, ending the call. Takashi stared at him blankly, while Slav had his head tilted in thought and Pidge looked at him with a knowing smirk.

“I'm telling Hunk,” Pidge said, still smirking. Lance gaped, mortified. Takashi coughed, pointedly focusing on piloting Blue.

“Please don't,” he pleaded. “Hunk's a sappier romantic than I am, I won't survive.”

“We're all sappy romantics,” Pidge dryly replied. “Except for Keith. Keith gets embarrassed by PDA, even though he likes being a part of the ones doing the PDA.” Pidge shrugged. “It's a little odd, but I'm not complaining. He's a warm tangle of limbs and it's actually cute.”

“Are we talking relationships or are we asking Slav about how he just knows all this stuff about us?” Takashi spoke up.

“That is simple,” Slav said, reaching out to touch the console. Pidge leaned over and slapped away his hand, causing him to yelp and shift to curl the other way around Takashi's shoulders. “I am a Bytor. We are attuned to quintessence, which allows us to become aware of our selves in other realities. In ninety-eight percent of all possible realities, the Bytor are not very brave or outgoing. In one percent, it is the Bytor and not the Galra that rule much of the known universe.”

“How are you even calculating that?” Pidge asked. “There's an infinite number of realities. You'd go insane trying to keep track of them all.”

“Which is why I do not,” Slav replied, looking proud. “Instead, I merely consider probability mechanics on all realities I am made aware of, or that I choose to be aware of.” Slav paused. “In 18 percent of all possible realities, Lance and... what is your name again?”

“Shiro,” Takashi replied, looking like he'd rather not be having this conversation.

“Shiro, yes.” Slav nodded. “In 18 percent of all possible realities, Lance and Shiro end up together. It is impressive that this is one of those realities.”

Pidge got a knowing look in their eye, a glint that had Lance recoiling. “Pidge no.”

“Pidge yes,” Pidge muttered. “So you could know the calculable odds of anyone getting together?”

“Okay no!” Takashi interrupted, jerking Blue hard to the left. Pidge yelped, falling to the floor, while Lance had to grab onto Blue's chair to avoid falling. Slav shrieked, clinging tightly to Takashi, nearly causing Blue to swerve back toward the asteroid field.

“Don't do that!” Slav cried, nearly choking Takashi. Lance reached at Slav, struggling to pry him away from Takashi. “There is the possibility that the inertial forces can snap our necks and leave us to die out in the void!” Slav squirmed, slipping into Takashi's lap and curling into a ball. “I can already feel the numbness.”

Takashi looked down at his lap and up at Lance, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Lance shrugged, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I don't know, he's just like that.” He paused. “Imagine Hunk, if his anxiety was jacked up to the max.”

“Right,” Takashi sighed, while Lance reached back to help Pidge back to their feet. “Well, the wormhole is up ahead. Let's just get back to the Castle before something else comes up.”

“Too late,” Pidge muttered, as Slav perked up. He clambered over Takashi and onto Lance, peering at the wormhole with interest.

“Is that a teludav?” he asked. “Teludav jumps are very efficient forms of travel.”

“They better be,” Pidge grumbled, eying Slav suspiciously. They reached up, standing on the tips of their toes to tentatively scratch at Slav's head. He froze, eyes closing and leaning toward Pidge's touch. Lance tilted, keeping a hand on Blue's chair so he wouldn't fall over.

“Yes,” Slav murmured, before jolting and slapping away Pidge's hand. “No no no! That is a very dangerous action.”

“Entering the wormhole,” Takashi announced, and Lance's grip on the seat tightened. Blue shuddered slightly, and Slav eeped, curling tightly around Lance.

“Efficient does not always mean safest,” Slav muttered, although he still watched every detail of the wormhole attentively. “Walking is the safest form of travel.” Slav squinted. “The teludav generator that is behind this needs maintenance. It has terahertz fluctuation unusual for an ideal teludav – or wormhole as you seem to call it. I would very much like to examine the generator.”

“Well you can talk with Coran about it,” Pidge replied. “I've seen enough of that thing to last me a lifetime.”

“Coran?” Slav perked up as they exited the wormhole. “Is this Coran the Altean who operates it?”

“Coran's Altean, but he can't make it work,” Takashi answered. “Allura's the only one who can make a wormhole.” He frowned. “This... doesn't look like Olkarion.”

“What?” Lance turned his attention to the planet they were flying over. “Oh, wow. That's– guys, that Arus!”

“Where the Castle of Lions has laid dormant all these pheebs?” Slav asked, looking from Lance to Arus in astonishment.

“I knew it!” Lance muttered in victory. Louder, he said, “Want to hear the epic tale of how we got from our planet to here?”

Slav tilted his head. “No thank you.”

Lance slumped, defeated. “Not even a little?”

“I have no interest in historical events,” Slav declared. “I would, however, like to discuss the teludav generator. Having studied the theory behind the technology, I would like to know more about the mechanics itself.”

“Excellent!” Lance clapped his hands, pointing at Pidge. “Because Pidge here helped Coran fix ours less than a spicolian movement ago.”

“You did?” Slav asked, turning his attention on Pidge. He climbed off of Lance, reaching out to grasp Pidge's hands with starry eyes. “Tell me everything! What was the beam intensity? How did the placement of the scaultrite lenses affect wormhole integrity?”

“Ignoring the tech talk,” Lance murmured, leaning forward to stand beside Takashi. “I might be a decent pilot, but I am nowhere near the kind of tech whiz that Pidge and Hunk are. All that stuff flies over my head.”

“I get what you mean,” Takashi replied, giving Lance a fond smile. “Remind me to tell you about what it was like stuck in a ship with only Commander Holt and Matt for company. A biochemist and a physicist. It took me a week to realize that they made up Calvinite. They made up a fake particle and let me freak out that the toothpaste was vital to studying it, just so that they could hoard it all for themselves.”

“They didn't,” Lance gasped, snickering. “This explains where Pidge gets it from. For three days they nearly had half the class convinced that if you tuned the sim comms just right, you could pick up the local radio station. Professor Dos Santos nearly flipped her lid when she found out. Not a single person in the navigation and communications track gave Pidge up as the source. It was both the most amazing and terrifying thing I've ever seen.”

“Good,” Pidge viciously spat from behind them. “Because I will rain terrible vengeance down on you for this.”

“Maybe wait until after this is over?” Lance asked. “You kind of need me alive for Voltron.”

“Oh, it's Hunk,” Takashi pointed out, and sure enough, there Yellow was, ahead of them. “Should we call them?”

“Let's not,” Lance replied. “Today's been mega long and I just want to get back to the Castle and–”

Allura popped up on the screen, the Castle's alarms blaring. Lance's face fell.

“Paladins!” Allura snapped, looking distracted, looking alarmed. “I am at the Balmera, and the robeast – it's escaped! Come at once, the Castle cannot hold it off forever!”

“What?” Hunk shrieked over the comms. “I thought the Balmera ate it! What happened?”

“Save the questions for when we get there,” Takashi commanded, looking at Lance. It felt just a little strange, still, to see Takashi defer to Lance for orders.

“Full speed ahead, Hunk,” Lance added, giving Takashi an approving nod. “We're going to need to move fast.”

Takashi poured on the speed, and Lance grabbed Slav, letting the Bytor clamber onto his shoulders as Blue sped ahead of Hunk, leaving Arus behind, passing the planet they'd left Rolo, Nyma, and Beezer at, and approached the Balmera.

The Castle was in orbit above the the Balmera, the particle barrier flickering and failing as it took fire from the robeast. Lance glanced at the robeast, and felt his blood run cold.

“What the cheese?” he whispered. “Where's the head– it's got no head, how is it alive?”

“We'll worry about that later,” Takashi said, and Lance nodded. This wasn't the time to get lost in the sense of fear, it was the time to get to their Lions. It was time to form Voltron.

Black rumbled in Lance's mind, the rolling rumble of thunder in the distance, the hurricane yet to come.

“What's the plan here, Boss?” Pidge asked, looking at Lance.

“We get to our Lions,” Lance answered, as the Castle's particle barrier went down. “And we defend the Castle. Hunk! You listening?”

“I'm here, man,” Hunk replied, although he sounded like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“You're going to work on distracting the robeast while Pidge and I get to our Lions.” Lance glanced at Slav. “And drop off Slav with Allura.”

“Can this day be done yet?” Hunk asked, resigned. “I'll do it. I won't be happy, but I'll do it. For the Balmera.”

“And Shay,” Pidge added, a sly smile on their face.

“Paladins, focus!” Allura snapped, and the Castle sent off a blast that the robeast blocked with its crystal shields.

Takashi steered Blue into the main hangar, and Lance all but shoved Pidge out as he stormed out, hesitating briefly on the threshold before running toward the elevator. Lance held Slav in his arms as he entered the elevator, hurriedly pushing the button for the bridge.

“Okay, so are you familiar enough with Altean technology to help here?” Lance asked, looking nervously down at Slav as he set the Bytor on the floor.

“I am quite familiar with Altean technology,” Slav replied. “In all possible realities, I actually work to improve the Castle's efficiency.”

“Good,” Lance said, nodding. “Good.” The elevator must have been working fast, or Allura diverted extra power to make it travel the whole length of the Castle, because the doors opened to the hall outside the bridge, and Lance ran, Slav on his heels. “Okay, can you help Allura restore the particle barrier?”

“Yes!” Slav nodded, not moving as Lance ran to his spot, to the stage that led to the Black Lion. He paused, looking at Slav in disbelief.

“In this reality?” Lance added, weakly.

Slav jumped in place, before hurrying along. “Yes! Yes of course!”

Slav paused, halfway to the door, before even more hurriedly heading toward the main console. Lance shared a look with Allura, torn between shrugging and shaking his head.

The ride down to Black was swift, and he met the other four Lions out fighting the robeast.

“Alright, talk to me. What are we looking at here?” Lance asked, forming the jawblade and striking one of the crystal shields. He got the robeast's attention, drawing some of the fire away from Hunk and Takashi.

“I've got an idea,” Takashi said. “But I'll need you guys to make it form that shield again.”

“You heard the hot guy, everyone converge around me,” Lance said, smiling. He didn't know what shield Takashi was talking about, but he could imagine that whatever his plan was, was solid. “And gimme some details.”

“The crystals come together to form a giant shield,” Hunk quickly explained. “Shiro managed to make it form and Keith kind of figured out that the robeast couldn't see whatever was attacking the shield.”

“You mean I figured it out,” Pidge said, but there was no venom to it. “Keith was too busy trying to use his lava blast to melt the crystals.”

Lance grinned. “We'll figure out who's responsible for what after we defeat the robeast. Takashi, your plan?”

“I freeze the shield together and then Voltron uses the sword to stab through it and the robeast,” Takashi explained, and Lance's grin turned toothier, turned vicious.

“Alright, then we'll do that.” He reached out for the thunder, for the hurricane. “On my mark, fire.” Lance took a deep breath, letting it out.” Fire!”

The two crystals came together to block the combined attack, and Takashi took advantage of it, icing over the shield. Lance whooped as Voltron came together, the hurricane forming. They drew the sword as they lunged at the robeast, stabbing through the shield and the heart of the robeast.

Lance was still giddy as he landed Black in her hangar. He was ready to head up to the bridge when Allura pulled up the comms.

“Paladins, I have just received a communication from one of our podships.” Allura grimaced, looking displeased. Behind her, Slav was animatedly talking to someone on another screen. “It appears that we will be having a guest join us in the Castle. One of the Blade, Antok, has been dispatched to act as a liason between Voltron and the Blade.”

“Sweet,” Lance tiredly cheered. “What do we need to do?”

“I have opened a wormhole for him to pass through, however, it would be beneficial if one of you were to escort him here while I land the Castle on the Balmera once more.” Allura frowned. “The robeast interrupted the harvesting.”

“So we're going to see Shay while someone guides Antok here,” Lance nodded. “Keith, I'm volunteering you.”

“What?” Keith squawked. “Lance, you can't do that!”

“Keith, my other options here are Takashi and Pidge,” Lance replied. “Because I am not going out to meet with him. This day has been long enough.”

“...fine,” Keith grumbled. “I won't be long though.”

“Wasn't betting on it,” Lance replied, smiling. “See you soon enough, Skywalker.”

Lance waved at Shay, watching her smile as Hunk appeared, the two hugging it out. He glanced at Pidge, who watched it happen with a fond smile of their own.

“I thought you and Keith and Hunk were a thing,” he commented. “Doesn't this make you jealous or something?”

“It's sweet,” Pidge replied, giving Lance a flat look. “It's a magical friendship.”

Lance saw Shay pick up Hunk, spinning him around while they laughed. “It sure is.” He spotted Red land in the Castle, the podship not far behind, and called out, “Hey, Allura, I'm going to greet our guest, maybe give him and Slav a quick tour of the Castle. You all good here?”

“What?” Allura gave Lance a sharp look, before softening. “Yes, of course. The mice will let me know if anything happens, Lance. Do keep that in mind.”

“I will,” Lance nodded, nearly saluting, as Takashi wandered over to talk to Shay. He returned to the Castle, finding Keith awkwardly standing by in the main hangar while Slav and Antok were chatting. “Hey! I've come to give you the grand tour of the place.”

“Ah.” Antok nodded, letting his hood fall, his mask shimmering away. Lance blinked at how... soft and fuzzy Antok looked. “Lead the way, then. It has been a long quintant.”

“Don't I know it,” Lance grumbled, leading them toward the elevator. “Alright, so this is the main hangar we're in. It connects to the other hangars for the Lions. There might be a couple more of them, but we haven't explored those areas in depth.”

“This is going to be one of those really sad tours, isn't it?” Keith asked as they stepped into the elevator.

“I am exhausted, and you should be too,” Lance replied. “Just this morning we were heading off to meet with the Blade. It's been a long quintant.” He shrugged, giving Slav a helpless look. “Sadly, I don't know where half the Castle's mechanics are located. But, once Allura's done collecting the crystal, we'll be heading over to meet with Coran. He's the Castle's mechanic, knows everything about everything. If anyone can help you upgrade this place, it's him.”

The elevator stopped, and Lance led the way out into the hallway. “So this is level five. There's a training deck here with a gladiator bot if you want to test out how your sword skills fare, or just want to train.” The doors closed, the elevator moving. “This is level... nine? Yeah, level nine. Here is where we keep the prisoners, like Sendak.”

“You have Commander Sendak as a prisoner?” Antok asked, disbelief heavy on his face and in his voice.

Lance shared a look with Keith. “...well, we had him as a prisoner. Then the Castle tried to kill us and he kind of got... jettisoned out into open space. He's just sort of... floating out beyond this system, I think?”

“You jettisoned Commander Sendak into open space,” Antok repeated, still in disbelief. He chuckled, smiling. “Kolivan will enjoy hearing about this.”

Keith snorted, covering his laughter with one hand, and Lance couldn't help but smile at the horrified face he could easily imagine Kolivan making.

“Yeah, we're totally telling Kolivan about this,” Lance agreed. The elevator doors closed, and Lance smiled as they opened. “Level... forty. Main entrance and, like, I think a ballroom?” The doors closed, and he grinned, stepping out when they opened again. “Level forty-eight. Here's where we eat, sleep, and generally can be found when not training or up on the bridge.”

“The bridge is at level fifty-three,” Slav commented, looking intrigued. “This is a fascinating layout.”

“The Alteans certainly favored aesthetic over practicality,” Antok commented, following Lance and Keith toward the Kitchen.

“I guess?” Lance shrugged. “Keith, you want to take over explaining the kitchen?”

“It's where we eat,” Keith explained, gesturing at the room as they entered it. “Over there is the food goo dispenser. Next to it is some kind of dishwasher that also works as an oven?” Keith shrugged. “Altean technology is weird.”

“So weird,” Lance agreed. Slav wandered over to the goo dispenser, marveling at the technology. He turned at the sound of squeaking, and spotted Chulatt and Plachu standing on the table. “Oh. Hey, guys.” He reached out, letting them climb up onto his shoulders. “Chulatt, Plachu, these are Antok and Slav. They're going to be staying in the Castle.”

Chulatt looked at Antok, then made a gesture that they were watching him. Plachu cheerfully waved.

“I do not think they like me,” Antok remarked.

“They're tiny and evil,” Keith agreed.

“They're adorable,” Lance countered.

There was another squeak, and Platt ran out from under the table, causing Slav to shriek and spray food goo everywhere. In the confusion, Chuchule dropped down to gnaw at Antok's left ear. Antok yelped, slipping on a puddle of food goo and toppling the table. Lance reached out to hold the table up, but was tripped by Antok's flailing, while Keith was smacked in the face by the runaway goo dispenser.

“Okay, so you could be right,” Lance admitted, laying on the floor, his face partly covered in food goo. He looked at the space mice in betrayal, while they gathered on one of the chairs, looking far too smug and innocent for their own good. “Maybe a little bit evil. But still adorable.”

Platt preened.

Chapter Text

Lance felt Shiro pull away as the Castle entered Olkarion's atmosphere. Without the warmth of Shiro's hand in his, the bridge felt colder, felt just the slightest bit lonelier.

“Once we land, Coran will want the scaultrite and the crystal.” Allura didn't look away from the main screen, but her words filled the silence. “Hunk, you will unload the scaultrite you collected from the weblum. Lance, if you could pilot the Blue Lion and carry the crystal where Coran directs you. I will open a channel once we land.”

Shiro coughed, drawing Lance's attention. “Actually, maybe Keith could carry the crystal in Red? I'd like Lance to help smooth things over when we bring the Olkari up to date about our plan.”

Lance blinked, staring at Shiro in shock. He... hadn't expected that, hadn't expected that Shiro would take his words from that morning to heart. Honestly, Lance expected there to be time before Shiro started to see him, started to see Lance as more than just the Blue Paladin, as the person he was and what his place was on this ship. He expected there to be time, at least a quintant or three, so that he could calm down, so that they both could take a step back.

But Lance wasn't going to contest it. Shiro was trying, was reaching out to him, and he couldn't stop that. He knew, from experience with his Shiro, that it was a lot to reach out to someone, to open up to someone.

Which was why it hurt so much, that Lance wasn't ready to reach back. He needed time, needed distance, needed calm.

“While I would otherwise agree, the crystal is too large for the Red Lion to carry. I would prefer that Lance and Hunk go to meet with Coran.” Allura paused, giving Slav a flat look. “And... perhaps Slav could go with you?”

“I would enjoy riding in the Blue Lion again,” Slav agreed, “if it meant I could meet this ship's mechanic.” He looked at Antok. “We could make a trip of it!”

Antok smiled, gently. “Perhaps we could. But I feel I should remain here. These Olkari should, I think, be aware of this alliance, since I will be staying on this planet for as long as Voltron is here.”

“No no!” Slav hurriedly shook his head, reaching out and pulling Antok toward Lance. “We are traveling together. This will increase the likelihood of success by 6.898 percent.”

Antok chuckled, following alongside Slav with a fond smile on his face. “That much? It seems I have no choice then but to go with you.”

“You have freedom of choice,” Slav replied, wagging a knowing finger at Antok. “But going together would definitely increase the likelihood of success.”

“By 6.898 percent,” Antok countered, still smiling. “That's too much to ignore.”

“I guess that settles it,” Lance said, giving Shiro a half-hearted shrug. “Would a rain check on explaining the alliance be okay with you, sir?”

Allura paused in landing the Castle, while Slav and Antok gave Lance a jointly baffled look.

“Postponing to a later time,” Lance explained for their benefit. “Don't ask me to explain where that Earth expression came from, I don't even know.”

“It's fine, Lance,” Shiro said, looking around the room. He spotted Keith, still blissfully in the depths of Hunk's hug, and smiled, just a little. It stung at Lance, just a little, but he could understand the feeling behind Shiro's smile. “I'd still like you nearby when we introduce Antok to the Olkari. You... really do have a level head on your shoulders. I'm sorry for not noticing earlier.”

Lance's gaze softened. “You're noticing now. That's about the best I could expect, sir.”

“Go,” Pidge commanded, clambering over their chair to shove at Lance. “And take all this gay with you.”

“But this is space,” Lance pointed out. “Everything's gay in space.”

“No,” Pidge countered. “Well, fine. It's not like anyone here isn't some kind of queer by Earth standards, but that?” Pidge gestured at Slav and Antok, and the blushing mess that was Keith, and then at all of Lance. “That's just too much gay for me, right now. Everything is sappy romance, and it's getting everywhere. Stop it.”

“Too late!” Lance sang as he approached Blue's pillar. “We're flying rainbow lions. We are all the gay pride.”

Pidge snickered as Hunk huffed in laughter, setting Keith down. Shiro coughed, his hand badly covering his own grin, though at the joke or at Keith's whine at the loss of Hunk, Lance couldn't tell.

“What?” Keith looked at Hunk forlornly. “That's it? Can we do that again?”

“Later,” Hunk promised, looking speculatively at Lance. “It could be a group thing, though.”

“I'm gonna hug you back,” Keith declared, squinting at Hunk. “I'm gonna return this beautiful hugging feeling. I'm prepared now; I know what I'm getting into this time.”

Hunk laughed, pulling Keith into a quick hug. Keith yelped, far too quickly melting into it. He glared at Hunk, but it lost the effect when he was a reddening puddle in Hunk's arms. Hunk took pity on Keith, setting him back down, where he stumbled on his feet, still glaring at Hunk.

“Next time,” he promised, waving a finger at Hunk. “I'm gonna hug you back.”

“Next time,” Hunk agreed, still grinning, one breath away from laughter. Hunk turned away from Keith's indignant squawk as Shiro patted him on the back, walking over to his pillar. “Alright, who's riding with me and who's riding with Lance? I gotta know which of you is clinging to me when we ride the zipline.”

“The Blue Lion,” Slav declared, hurrying up onto Antok's shoulders. It looked far too cute by half, in Lance's opinion. “We are both riding in the Blue Lion.”

Antok gave Lance a smile, even as he reached up to scratch Slav by the ears. Slav leaned into the touch, even letting out a soft hum that could have been a purr. “Ziplines?”

“They were very fashionable on Altea!” Allura groaned, frustrated. She waved them off, while Pidge laughed. “Go. The zipline can hold the extra weight perfectly fine.”

Lance looked at Antok, who was nearly twice his height. “...yeah, this is going to be awkward.”

Pidge fell over laughing, while Shiro shook his head, a smile on his face.

The zipline turned out to be a lot less awkward than Lance anticipated. It turned out that the Castle could produce multiple ziplines, a fact that had Lance's eye twitching the whole ride down.

“Why do they have ziplines?” Slav pondered when they entered Blue's cockpit. “They have hover technology.”

“The aesthetic,” Antok replied. “Remember, old friend, the Alteans did love the aesthetic over practicality.”

“Indeed,” Slav slumped into Antok's shoulders. “I would very much like to discuss updating the technology of the Castle of Lions. Everything is written in Altean, I can't understand it.”

Lance paused as he reached for the controls. “...wait, what languages can you read?”

“The Galran script is the standard for much of the known universe,” Antok calmly replied. “It is very loosely based around Altean, from the time Daibazaal and Altea were allies, but ten kilopheebs is far too long to equate the two at all. Altean is all but a dead language.”

Lance snorted. “Space Latin,” he mused, already thinking of the best way to break the news to Pidge. “The Castle is covered in space Latin.” He grinned. “Is written Galra hard to learn?”

Antok shared a look with Slav, who shrugged with all of his arms. “We wouldn't know. Is your written language hard to learn?”

Lance paused. “...the written part is pretty easy. The English alphabet isn't that large. But it is considered the hardest language to really master.”

“You have multiple languages on your planet?” Slav asked, perking up. “Fascinating. I have never heard of a planet that didn't have anything more than regional dialects.”

“I suppose next you'll tell us that there are multiple biomes on your planet,” Antok said, a smile on the edge of his lips. Lance winced, and his smile vanished. “I... was not being serious.”

“Earth's a pretty diverse planet,” Lance commented as he grabbed the controls, guiding Blue into standing. “If all the other planets we've come across are any indication, I guess it means we're one of a kind.” He paused. “But it is pretty cool that we all breathe the same atmosphere.”

“Small mercies,” Antok faintly agreed, looking like he needed to sit down. Lance shrugged in sympathy, guiding Blue out into the main hangar. He paused, staring at the huge crystal, nearly half the size of Blue's head.

“Whoa.” He raised his eyebrows, trying to figure out how to carry it out. “That is one huge Balmera crystal.”

“Indeed.” Allura popped up on his console, the video feed coming along with a map of the area, a blinking dot in one corner. “Which is why I was adamant that the Blue Lion carry it. I have already sent the coordinates of Coran's location, where he is already waiting for you and Hunk to deliver the crystal and the scaultrite.”

“Can do.” Lance saluted, a smile on his face. “We'll be back before you can say juniberries.”

“What?” Allura looked baffled. “Is that another of those Earth sayings?”

“It means he'll be fast,” Shiro replied from off-screen. He slid into view. “That's good. We'll see you soon, then.” Shiro's eyes fell on Slav, who was already climbing off of Antok's shoulders to explore more of the cockpit. “...without Slav, I hope.”

“That has yet to be determined,” Slav absently replied, rubbing at his chin – or where Lance guessed his chin was – as he studied the console. “Too many variables to properly calculate.”

Shiro gave Slav a flat look, matched only by Allura's own twitching eyebrow. “Right.”

“Well, we should get going,” Lance said, reaching out to end the call. “I'll let you know when we're on the way back.”

“Very well,” Allura sighed, rubbing her brow. “We will be waiting.”

The call ended, and Lance peeked over at Slav, who had wandered back over to Antok. “You okay back there?”

“Humans,” Antok replied in a distant voice, “are an astounding species.”

“You don't have to tell me twice,” Lance muttered. Louder he said, “Well, just remember that us, uh, four and a half Paladins are basically the good of humans in a nutshell.” He paused. “We're a small sample size of the larger population.”

“Potential statistical outliers,” Slav mused, nodding. He spotted a button, and rushed over to look at it.

“Yeah. That.” Lance leaned back into Blue's seat. Gently, Blue reached forward, taking the crystal in her mouth. An option pulled up on the console, and Lance blinked in surprise when an icon showing a storage area in Blue's chest popped up. Blue rumbled in the back of his mind, giving him the impression of a pelican storing food, and Lance shrugged, pressing the button.

Blue swallowed the crystal. Lance gaped as a new indicator popped up on his screen, of the crystal in storage, a particle barrier surrounding it.

“What the cheese?” Lance muttered, before shaking his head. He pulled up the comms for Yellow, calling in Hunk. “Okay, Hunk, I'm all ready to go. How about you?”

“Dude, I've been waiting for you to call in,” Hunk replied, and Lance grinned as Yellow lumbered into view. “Also, did Blue just eat the crystal?”

“Yeah?” Lance's grin widened as he shrugged helplessly. “I don't even know. Apparently the Lions have a storage thing like a stomach? Whatever it is, the crystal's safe and covered in a particle barrier there.”

“Sometimes I think I figure out how all this space stuff works,” Hunk said. “And then stuff like that happens.” Lance heard Hunk shudder over the comms. “Altean stuff is weird, dude.”

“You're telling me,” Lance agreed, pulling Blue into the air to fly out.

“Actually, this is not Altean,” Slav piped up from beside Lance's head, and he nearly sent Blue crashing into the wall. Blue grumbled her displeasure but was otherwise unsympathetic to Lance's plight. “These Lions are quite fascinating. Their structure is unlike anything I have ever studied, and the technology is advanced even by modern standards.” Slav hummed. “I would love to see the schematics of the Lions.”

“Dude, so would I,” Hunk breathed, and Lance could hear his smile. “Like, what's the torque of Red's movement versus Yellow's? What kind of inertial dampeners are in the cockpits? Where's the power source of the Lions located, and can I tap into it to redirect into, I don't know, the thrusters? Yellow's great and all but it'd be nice if we were faster like the others. No offense, bud.” Hunk paused. “Awwww! You're so sweet. Who's a good kitty? Who's the bestest kitty? You are!”

“Aaand I'm out.” Lance cut the comms. “I am not spending this trip listening to Hunk talk up Yellow.”

“You do have a point, old friend,” Antok mused, coming up to stand beside Slav. “The technology behind the Lions are not Altean in origin. I do see hints and pieces of Altean technology in this, though, but there are others.”

“Technology beyond it's time,” Slav said, peering over the console. “And all of it in Altean.” He paused. “Perhaps we could rewire it to display in Galran script?”

Blue growled in Lance's mind, and he shuddered, feeling like he was brushing up against something huge, something that shouldn't be approached, or seen, or perceived at all.

“Yeah, no rewiring the Lions,” Lance declared with a shudder. Blue left the main hangar, exiting the Castle. “Maybe Green, because Pidge is weird and got that cloaking tech to work with Green, but nobody's touching Blue.”

“You have cloaking technology?” Antok asked, eyebrows raising in surprise. “That is fascinating.”

“It's not perfect,” Lance explained, “and it's really nothing like your gravity engine.”

“You're familiar with it?” Slav asked, perking up.

“I know it exists,” Lance replied. “And I know that it works. But I don't have a clue how it works.” He shrugged. “I'm a pilot, not an engineer. Kind of like how no one would ask you to pilot a ship, yeah?”

Slav shuddered. “I am terrible at flying a ship. In 98 percent of all possible realities, it ends in disaster and death.” He shook his head. “I must never fly a ship!”

Lance shared an amused look with Antok. “Well, I think that can be arranged. The never flying thing, not the part about you actually piloting.”

The comm beeped, and Lance pulled up two videos – of Hunk and of Coran, strangely enough.

“Lance!” Coran perked up, before leaning in close to the camera, squinting. “Who is that with you? A Galra? And– is that a Bytor with you?”

“This is Antok, from the Blade,” Lance replied, pointing at Antok. “And also we've got an engineer who wants to meet you. This is Slav.”

“Hello!” Slav cheerfully waved. “You are the Altean engineer?”

“I am!” Coran cheerfully replied, puffing up in pride.

“Your ship needs repairs,” Slav matter-of-factly stated. “And it needs refurbishing. The layout is dreadful.”

“Wha– bu– it does not!” Coran sputtered, indignant. “The Castle of Lions is the most advanced of Altean technology.”

“It has ziplines,” Slav flatly replied. “And the entrance is on the fortieth floor. You have hover technology, it should not be so difficult to fix this. I predict that it would take–”

“It will take nothing!” Coran growled. “The Castle of Lions needs repairs, yes, but I will not stand by and let you speak of, of, of rebuilding the Castle of Lions from the ground up!”

“Nothing so drastic,” Antok intervened, giving Coran a sharp look and a disarming smile. “Merely a... reworking of resources. Additional practicality for the modern universe.”

“Yeah!” Hunk added, furiously nodding. “Coran, my dude, the Castle is awesome but... it's old. Maybe letting Slav here make some adjustments would mean it breaks down less. A lot less. Please. I feel like I'm one internal gravity field breakdown away pulling out paperclips and rubber bands to keep this awesome future-type old technology from breaking down. Which, I mean, I could, but I don't want to.”

“The Castle is in perfect working order!” Coran screeched, turning red. “It does not need adjusting!”

Lance settled back, looking out at the forest while the others argued over the merits of revamping the Castle. A quick check of the local time revealed that their part of Olkarion was experiencing mid-morning. The city looked almost beautiful, bathed in the morning light of it's star. Nature spread over it's buildings, green against the black, drowning out what little purple there was. The star painted everything in a faintly golden light, but still the green stood brightly against the black.

To the side, within the forest outside the city, a huge tree grew, huge enough that Lance figured that Blue – or even, Black – would look like a housecat if she landed by it. Hidden within the roots, Lance spotted hints of black, of the cubes from a week before.

“Hey Hunk,” Lance called out, interrupting the heated argument. “You see the Ghibli tree over there?”

“Ghibli tree?” Antok repeated, baffled.

“What?” Hunk turned to the side, his eyes going wide. “Whoa! Where did that come from?”

“I think Pidge made that,” Lance said. “Look. Those cubes are hidden in the roots.”

“Wow.” Hunk nodded, impressed. “Pidge can never know they did that.”

“Not a chance,” Lance agreed. Pidge, he'd quickly learned, was absolutely insufferable if they learned they were right, or they did something awesome. Lance was a lot of the same way, but he knew when to quiet down and when was too much. Pidge didn't. “But we can't keep it from them forever.”

Hunk wilted. “I know. But can't we keep them from finding out until tomorrow? Today's been long enough, I didn't survive a Weblum to listen to a smug Pidge.”

“There's only so long we can distract them,” Lance admitted with a sigh. “But it has been a long day for all of us. They'll probably want to sleep. I know I want to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Hunk nodded. “Oh, there's Coran.”

Lance looked out over the city, where there was a huge ring being built, and a tiny dot that, upon zooming in, proved to be Coran frantically waving. On the comms, Coran was... also frantically waving, but away from the camera.

“Come along in, Lance, Number Two!” Coran said, and Hunk had a flat look.

“Okay, my name is Hunk. Please don't ever call me that again.” Hunk sighed. “Especially after today.” He shuddered. “Things happened in that Weblum, man. Things I can never forget.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Want to talk about it after we land?”

“Yes. Please.”

Lance let Antok and Slav out first, watching Hunk carry out the bags of scaultrite nearby. Blue rumbled in his mind, the rumbling depths of the sea, and so Lance was left letting everyone else out before Blue coughed up the crystal. Blue huffed, seafoam laughter and burbling streams that Lance took to mean chuckling, and Lance watched Slav and Antok meet up with Coran. Blue rumbled, and Lance frowned.

“Uh, can you guys go stand closer to Yellow?” He frowned at the message Blue was impressing on him. “Blue's kind of telling me to tell you to stand wide and clear.”

“Of course, Lance,” Coran assured him, and he bustled everyone over toward Yellow. As soon as they were standing by Yellow's forepaw – Antok looking up at Yellow, while Slav never took his eyes off of Blue – Lance pushed the button for Blue to expel the crystal.

Blue bucked, and Lance blinked, eyes widening as Blue shuddered, jaws opening wide, and...

“Okay, there's awesome, and then there's this.” Lance groaned, slumping back in Blue's chair. “Hunk, I'm so sorry that you had to see that.”

Blue had literally coughed up the crystal, like a hairball. Blue seemed to preen now that the crystal was out of her stomach, and Lance slumped further into the chair.

“There are things,” Hunk solemnly began, “so many things about this universe, that I never wanted to know about. This, right here, is one of them.”

“A hairball,” Lance groaned under his breath. “Of all the things, a hairball.”

“Well, it's been a long time since I've seen the Blue Lion expel something from its chest cavity.” Coran popped up on the feed, actually tearing up a little. “It's quite beautiful.”

“Yeah I'm done.” Down below, Hunk threw his arms up, turning back toward Yellow. “This day has been long enough, and I am done. I'm going back to the Castle, I'm going to get some sleep.”

“Slav, Antok, are you coming?” Lance asked , pulling up into a better spot on Blue's chair.

“I am, yes,” Antok replied, peering into Coran's camera. “Old friend has declared that he will remain here with Coran, until starfall.”

“You mean Slav?” Lance asked, frowning in confusion. Was there some translation thing going on? Did it mean something other than what Lance was hearing?

“Of course,” Antok confirmed, stepping forward with Coran. “He is my old friend.”

“What does that even mean?” Lance grabbed the controls, tilting Blue's head down, her mouth open and inviting. Outside, Coran had his chatbacks surround the crystal, enveloping it in a deep blue light. The crystal rose, moving slowly toward the barely-built teludav. “I don't think it's translating the same. I'm getting... old friend?”

“Is that what you hear?” Antok asked, tilting his head. He stepped away from Coran, stepped away from the camera and into Blue. Lance waited as Antok approached the cockpit. He walked up behind Lance, footsteps light. “It is a Galra term. It means... one who holds the heart.”

That was... surprising. Lance hadn't thought that the Galra were capable of something like that.

“Really?” Lane looked up at Antok askance. “I didn't think, uh, the Galra knew about romance.”

“In our own ways,” Antok replied, his voice quiet, distant. “Perhaps not how you can see it, and perhaps not how you experience it, but the matters of the heart can often be found in our every action. Sometimes, it even can align with matters of the body.”

“That's strange,” Lance said. The matters of the heart, and the matters of the body. “So it's something like romance and, uh...” He balked. “Sexuality?” Lance looked out over the forest, looked out at the distant horizon. “So you have feelings for Slav. Something like love.”

“...love.” The word rolled roughly off of Antok's tongue, unused to it as it was. “You have such unclear words in your language. It translates so roughly.”

“Tell me about it,” Lance chuckled. “There's reasons English is considered the hardest language on Earth.”

“I'm beginning to understand that,” Antok remarked. “What is it like, your universe?”

Lance paused. “What?” He glanced at Antok. “Why are you asking that?”

“Call it curiosity,” Antok replied, his voice light. “And I wonder if perhaps you have someone waiting for you. Someone you would call old friend.”

Lance thought of his Shiro, thought of Shiro's smile and of Shiro's hugs, of waking up with Shiro in his arms.

“Maybe one day,” Lance answered, sounding far too wistful for his liking. “If I– no, when I go back, I'll tell him. The moment I see his face, I'll tell him.”

“He doesn't know already?” Antok tilted his head. “It isn't obvious?”

“Oh, it's obvious,” Lance assured him, nodding matter-of-factly. “Probably the most obvious thing in the Castle. But humans... I don't know about Galra, or Bytor, or Olkari, or anyone else in the universe, but humans... we might not seem like it, but some things can't go unsaid. Things like what we mean to each other. And he means... a lot to me. Not everything, because that's just... too much.” Lance coughed. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, there's someone back in my universe.”

“You will reunite with him,” Antok said. “And your friends as well.”

Lance smiled. Antok was a little strange, but Lance liked him well enough. “Come on. Let's go meet up with the others. We've got an alliance to explain.”

“A Galra?” Ryner balked at the sight of Antok, glaring at him alongside her fellow Olkari. Lance figured that things were going well enough, considering that nobody was shooting at anyone else. “Is he your prisoner?”

“No,” Allura replied, hesitantly. She looked at Shiro, then at Lance, who nodded encouragingly. “We have actually allied ourselves with him and a group of Galra similar to him.”

“Why?” Ryner looked from Allura to Shiro on shock. “The Galra are monstrous. Why ally with them?”

“Because Antok and his group are fighting the empire,” Lance cut in, earning a grateful look from both Allura and Shiro. “They're fighting just like we are. They want Zarkon taken down just as much as we do.”

“And you trust them?” Ryner stared down Lance.

“Yeah, I do,” Lance replied, standing firm and meeting Ryner's gaze head-on. “That's the thing about being the Blue Paladin. I have a lot of faith and trust in others. And they have both of those things.”

“The Blade of Marmora has done little to cast doubt on their intentions,” Allura spoke up. “They have gained the trust of three of Voltron's Paladins, including their leader.” Keith stood forward, standing beside Lance and Shiro and looking like he was ready to fight anyone that dared cross his path. “For that alone, I believe that they are worthy of my trust – and yours, if you would allow it.”

Ryner looked at Pidge, who nodded noncommittally. “Very well. But he will not set foot upon Olkari soil. No Galra will set foot upon Olkarion again.”

Antok canted his head. “A fair assessment.”

“Not happening,” Keith said at the same time.

“What?” Ryner turned her attention to him. “And why should you decide what I can and cannot declare about my own planet and people?”

“I don't,” Keith replied, glancing at Lance. “But... if you want to keep that promise, then I guess I'm not welcome.” Lance reached out, placing a comforting hand on Keith's shoulder. “I'm part Galra. So I guess that means I'm not allowed on your planet either.”

He shrugged, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal, but Lance knew better. Lance smiled, glad that Keith could feel like that, could feel like he had someone there to support him. Shiro reached out, also placing another hand on Keith's shoulder, and Lance let his fall. Keith looked at Shiro, smiling, but at the removal of Lance's hand he reached out, snagging it in his own.

“It's true,” Shiro added, gently squeezing Keith's shoulder. “Keith is part Galra. He's more than earned the trust of everyone here. If anyone should be allowed to stay, it's him.”

Ryner looked displeased, but she sighed. “The Red Paladin can stay. But the Galra – both the one here and any of his associates – will not set foot outside of the Castle of Lions onto my planet. Is this amenable?”

Lance looked at Allura, who nodded. Antok canted his head in agreement, while Keith looked like he wanted to say more, but he bit his lip and nodded. Lance smiled. “Yeah. We've got ourselves a deal.”

Lance practically collapsed into bed when they returned to the Castle, already half-asleep. The day had been far too long, and he looked forward to the next couple days – Coran had returned for dinner, declaring that it would take several quintants before the teludav would be ready, and even then it would take another quintant or two before Slav could build the gravity engine in the Castle.

They had nearly a whole spicolian movement free to rest, and catch up on lost sleep, and Lance was fully prepared to use it for two things: sleeping, and avoiding time alone with Shiro until he was ready.

That morning, when Shiro had chosen Keith over him, hurt. It hurt that there wasn't a place for him on this crew, for that other Lance to only exist as the Blue Paladin and nothing more. It hurt that Shiro trusted Keith more than he trusted Lance. It hurt that Shiro trusted anyone more than he trusted Lance.

Which was why Lance had nearly ran back to the Castle, had done his best to avoid Shiro, because it still hurt, to look at Shiro and know that Shiro would rather pick Keith over him, would rather listen to anyone else over him, would rather trust anyone else over him. He needed time, needed distance.

Someone knocked on the door. Lance froze, midway through applying his face mask. It could be Keith, or Hunk, or Allura, but intuition told him that it wasn't.

The day was far too long, and it seemed reluctant to end.

Lance reached out, opening his closet and stepping inside. The closet door shut behind him as the door to the hallway slid open. Lance carefully, carefully reached out, opening the closet door a crack as the room lights, no longer sensing movement or Lance, dimmed into darkness.

“Lance?” Shiro tentatively peered into the room, Lance watching from the crack as light shone in from the hall. At Shiro's movement, the room lights lit back up, letting Lance see Shiro's worried look, see his disappointed sigh. “I guess you're not here.”

Shiro pulled away, stepped back into the hallway. The door closed, and Lance counted thirty ticks before he stepped out of the closet. He wasn't ready yet, not to talk to Shiro like Shiro wanted.

“So you're avoiding him.” Hunk nodded, even as he mixed the ground scaultrite into his cookie pan. Coran had asked Hunk to recreate his scaultrite cookies, but with a higher mix of ground scaultrite so that they wouldn't have to be lubricated again. Lance had shuddered at the memory, and was glad that he didn't have to live through that a second time. As it stood, Hunk was working in an Olkari kitchen with at least a dozen of the Olkari helping him make the lenses for the teludav.

“Technically, no,” Lance countered. “I'm just... carefully planning my day so that I won't cross paths with him.”

“Dude, that's avoiding.” Hunk paused to pour out the cookies and put them into the oven, then went over to help one of the Olkari fix their stirring. “Okay, try being tougher when you stir. This stuff is hard, but it needs the right kind of mixing to get an even spread of the scaultrite.” He raised his voice. “Remember to mix up the dry ingredients really well before stirring in the wet ingredients! We want a nice, even mixture so that these babies bake up nice and shiny.”

“It's not avoiding!” Lance protested, before groaning at how weak it sounded to even his ears. “Okay, so maybe I'm avoiding a little.”

“You just admitted to hiding in your closet to avoid Shiro.” Hunk shook his head in disbelief. “There's avoiding a little, and then there's what you're doing. Talk to him. He clearly wants to apologize.”

“He did,” Lance groaned, flopping his head into his hands. “He apologized and I just. I need time, okay? I need time and distance, and he's not giving me either of those. So yeah, I'm sneaking around him. And I'm going to keep sneaking around until I feel calm enough to talk to him without blowing up at him again.”

Hunk winced. “Look, dude, I get that he wronged you, but is now really the time?”

“Now is completely the time,” Lance countered. “He wasn't respecting me or your Lance as a valid member of this crew. I had to do something. It was all kinds of disrespectful and it needed to stop.” Lance grimaced, peering up at Hunk. “I'm doing better, though. Without him here, I have the chance to just... process his apology.” He sighed. “And the fact that in a week, we'll have everything we need to send me back to my universe.”

Hunk nodded. “That too.”

“Enough about me.” Lance straightened up. “What about you? What's going on with Shay in this universe?”

“We're just friends!” Hunk yelped, nearly scaring the Olkari into dropping the mixing bowls. “She's still a rock I admire very much, okay? It doesn't matter what alternate universe me thinks of her, but Shay's a good person, and really sweet.” Hunk smiled. “You saw the Balmera. It's healing really well. Shay's grandma thinks it'll be back to full health in a pheeb. I think that's a year? It seems like a year.”

“Nearest I can tell, I agree.” Lance smiled. “It's good to hear, though. It's really nice seeing all these places we've helped again. They're all doing so well for themselves. It's–”

Lance froze at the sound of footsteps. He jumped to his feet, looking around wildly. Hunk sighed, pointing at a nearby cupboard for him to hide in, and Lance shot him a grateful smile, even as he crawled inside. The door didn't shut, not fully, giving Lance a nice view of Hunk's legs and the feet of the nearest Olkari.

“Hunk?” Shiro called out, and Lance heard someone – Shiro probably – step close to the cupboard. Hunk turned to face Shiro. “You... haven't seen Lance today, have you? I've been looking all over, but he's just... not around.”

“Okay, I can't lie to you, I've seen Lance.” Hunk sounded exasperated, and Lance stiffened. “And right now? He's looking for space to calm down. He's still upset, and Lance doesn't do well when someone tries to corner him. Like you're doing.”

“I just wanted to talk to him.” Shiro sighed. “See how he's doing.”

“He's fine.” Hunk paused, probably grimacing. “But seriously. He's the master at sneaking around and avoiding people. I can't tell you the number of times we managed to avoid getting caught by nightly patrols at the Garrison because of him. Granted, we also got caught a lot of times because he wanted to sneak out, but those were us sneaking back in. If he doesn't want to be found by you, he'll find a way.” Another pause, then, “He'll find you when he's ready. For now, just... I don't know, plan with Allura? Don't you need to figure out the specifics of trapping Zarkon?”

“I think I will.” Shiro sighed again. “Keith's been up in the Castle training with Antok, and there's only so much I can train by myself. I'd ask to help here, but the last time I tried cooking, I set the noodles on fire.”

“...get away from my kitchen,” Hunk ordered. “I will teach you how to cook, but now is not the time, and these are too delicate for you to ruin just by standing here.”

“Gladly,” Shiro sounded relieved, and Lance could far too easily imagine the grin on Shiro's face.

Lance waited, listening to Shiro's fading footsteps, before crawling out of the cupboard.

“You too, Lance.” Hunk shook his head, and several of the Olkari watched Lance both warily and in disbelief. “I run a solid kitchen, and drama has no part in it. Go hide somewhere else.”

Lance sighed, giving Hunk a wan smile. “Alright. I'll talk to you later.”

“Minus the drama?” Hunk asked, peering at Lance suspiciously.

“I'll see what I can do,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes and giving Hunk a disarming smile.

“Good.” Hunk nodded. “Now go.”

 Lance walked into the training room to see Keith being guided through using his knife, which was still a knife, by Antok.

“Hey!” He waved, walking over. “How goes the training?”

Keith looked at Antok, who raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “Awful. I'm trying to unlock the blade again and nothing's happening.”

“It's not a weird believing in yourself thing, is it?” Lance asked, squinting at Keith's knife. “Because that's just bad anime.”

“It's like activating our bayards, I think,” Keith shrugged. “Except it apparently isn't that easy.”

“The blade is a manifestation of your will,” Antok gently explained, sounding like it wasn't the first time he'd said those words, while Keith's look soured, confirming that it was far from the first time he had heard them. “Your will to fight for what you believe in.”

“See?” Keith gestured at Antok, frustrated. “What does that even mean?”

Antok shared a look with Lance, an bemusedly exasperated look. “I am explaining as clear as I could.”

“I'm not believing that,” Keith grumbled. “It's the most confusing explanation ever.”

“Well, it's not like I can help here,” Lance pointed out. “This is all on you.” He grinned. “Speaking of, how have you been doing? Yesterday was a wild day, so...”

“So?” Keith echoed, looking at Lance cluelessly.

“How does it feel? To know for sure?” Lance leaned forward, rocking on the balls of his feet. “What's life like now that you know you're Galra?”

“I'm failing to turn this knife into a blade,” Ketih flatly replied. “Until then, Antok isn't teaching me how to fight with it. And Hunk keeps calling me Galra Keith. And Allura's giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Allura's ignoring him,” Lance explained to Antok, who looked at Keith confusedly. “Give it a quintant or two. Hunk's got a lot of jokes he could get out, and this is how he processes. And Allura...” Lance grimaced. “Yeah, she's working on it. We talked while you were in the cryopod and she's doing her best here. She'll probably apologize sometime in the next couple of quintants.” He paused, looking at Antok pointedly. “Have you told him about his mom yet?”

“I have had the chance to thoroughly examine his blade,” Antok answered, looking nonplussed. “I do not recognize it, which only means that it was issued before my time among the Blade. And that means it was before Kolivan's time as well, since we joined at the same time.”

“That's it?” Lance asked. “Don't you have records about that kind of thing?”

“We do,” Antok agreed. “However, this blade was not listed in our database. I have already been in contact with Kolivan about this, and he finds it both curious and concerning.”

“So you still don't know who my mom is,” Keith sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That sounds just like my life.”

“Hey.” Lance jostled Keith's shoulder. “At least now you know. And she's somewhere out there, waiting for you.”

“But I already went where she wanted me to go!” Keith growled, waving the knife about. Lance took a step back, out of Keith's range of motion, while Antok huffed in laughter. “I went to the Blade of Marmora like she wanted, but I didn't find her there.”

Lance shrugged, looking toward Antok for advice. Antok frowned, and remained silent.

“Then I guess... keep doing this?” Lance shook his head. “You learned about yourself, and now you know where you came from. Maybe that's all she ever wanted for you, is to learn about this side of yourself.” He held his hands up, doing a brief jazz hands. “Surprise! You're actually half Earthling! Something like that.”

“That's it?” Keith scoffed. “Really? That just – that can't be everything. I don't even know what happened to her! Or my dad!”

“Sometimes mysteries don't get solved,” Lance said.

“Lance!” The door to the training room opened, and Lance winced as Shiro walked into the room, staring at him in surprise. “I wasn't expecting to find you here.”

“Hey!” Lance tried to smile, but all he achieved was something close to a grimace. “What I coincidence, neither was I.”

“I...” Shiro awkwardly looked over at Antok. “Actually, I came to talk to you.” He glanced at Keith and Lance. “In private.”

“Very well.” Antok gave Keith a gentle shove, and Lance grabbed Keith's arm, guiding him out of the room.

“What do you think they're talking about?” Keith asked, looking back at where Shiro was having a hushed conversation with Antok.

“If I had to guess?” Lance tilted his head, thinking it over. “His missing year? I think Shiro's still really hung up on that.”

“But he's here now,” Keith kept his gaze on Shiro. “He's not back in that arena anymore.”

“Well, wouldn't you want to know more about your past?” Lance asked, playfully nudging Keith's shoulder and pointedly glancing at his knife. “Don't blame Shiro for wanting the same stuff you do.”

“Oh.” Keith frowned down at his blade. “I guess, when you put it that way, he's just trying to do the same thing I did.”

“And the best we can do is be there for him,” Lance said. “Now are you hungry? All that training must have put you in the mood for food goo. Or whatever it is that the Olkari eat. I hope it isn't grubs.” Lane shivered. “I can't eat grubs again.”

“Paladins, we have a mission.”

“Bwuh?” Lance swallowed his food goo. “A mission? Really?”

“What is it?” Shiro asked, already setting aside his dinner.

“Mavrodite,” Slav spoke up, gesturing with his spoon. “To build the gravity engine, I will need a large amount of Mavrodite.”

“Okay, so where do we get it?” Pidge asked, while Hunk quietly muttered something that might have been a prayer but just as likely could have been a chant of some sort.

“There is a storage satellite in the Askari Cluster,” Antok provided, pulling out a device and clicking it open. A map of the universe popped up, showing a meteor cluster. “It's a mining colony, mostly automated, but there is a Blade stationed there. The Blade siphons off a small amount of Mavrodite from the mines, but...”

“For a gravity engine to cover this ship and the teludav generator you are building, the amount of Mavrodite needed is several times the amount I usually require.” Slav paused. “But I have calculated the odds of success at 99.796 percent!”

“Cool!” Lance grinned. “What do we need to do?”

“You will need to exercise an amount of stealth for this,” Antok said, looking over the table at all of them. “The Askari Cluster provides the primary amount of Galodium for the empire. It is under heavy guard, and so you cannot merely perform a teludav jump and have Voltron fight your way out. Not if you want to avoid Zarkon's attention.”

“You will take the Green Lion, hidden under a cloak, and you will meet with this Blade,” Allura continued. “While it is also imperative that the mining of Galodium is crippled. Without a constant supply of it, the forces Zarkon can create are limited.”

“So we sneak in, get the crystals, wreck some stuff, and get out?” Lance reached out, patting Hunk on the back. “That sounds easy enough.”

“Mavrodite, in it's raw form, can be highly unstable if exposed to any sort of atmosphere,” Slav added. “But the containers holding it are the most secure in the universe. There is such a little chance of containment failure that I don't have to calculate it!”

Lance raised his eyebrows, as did most of the table. That was impressive.

“Then let's go.” He pushed away his food goo. “We can leave now and be back in, what, a varga?”

Allura looked at Shiro, who shrugged. “If it's that easy of a mission, than I think we can do it.”

“Mission, then bed,” Hunk groaned. “I've spent all day watching over the Olkari make the scaultrite cookies. I'm exhausted enough.”

“To the bridge!” Lance gestured, he grinned at the baffled looks on the other humans. “I found out yester-quintant that the Castle makes multiple ziplines, so we can all ride along with Pidge directly to Green.”

“Ugh, fine.” Pidge half-heartedly glared at Lance. “But this won't be like yesterday with the ride in Blue's mouth.”

“Not at all, I'd hope.” Lance nodded along.

The station was a squat thing, connecting two asteroids together. Just like Antok had said, it was under heavy guard, fleet ships lazily circling the asteroid field, but Green's cloaking technology was enough to let them slip past.

Green landed on the outskirts of a docking bay, and everyone crowded out, bayards out and at the ready. The bay was empty, but they remained on alert, even as they broke into the control room for the bay and Pidge hacked the video feed to loop out Green's presence, as well as download a schematic of the place.

“Okay so we're here.” Pidge pointed to a dot, glowing green in the bay, right between the two asteroids. “And the Mavrodite is... here?” Pidge gestured at the far end of the colony, on one end asteroid.

“Antok mentioned that we should look for the Blade stationed here,” Lance cut in. “That they should be expecting us?”

“Yeah, I think... huh.” Pidge pointed at the other end of the station, far away from the Mavrodite. “That's strange.”

“We'll have to split up then,” Shiro said. “Pidge, Hunk, take Keith and go collect the Mavrodite. I'll take Lance and meet with the Blade.”

“Hold the phone,” Lance interrupted, holding up a hand like he was in class. “Why isn't Keith going to meet with the Blade? He's the one with the identifying knife.”

“Because the Blade is expecting Voltron, not a fellow member,” Shiro replied. “And we need someone in both groups who can open doors and access panels. And I can't go collect the Mavrodite because I need to meet with the Blade. With you.”

Lance grimaced, lowering his hand. “Yes, sir.”

They split off, each going a separate direction – Shiro and Lance toward the Blade, and Keith, Hunk, and Pidge toward the Mavrodite.

“I shouldn't have badgered you into hiding,” Shiro began, once they were clear of the bay. He peered around the corner, gesturing for Lance to follow. “I just wanted to talk and see how you were doing.”

“I'm doing fine, sir,” Lance bit out.” Not as calm as I would like, but I'm dealing with it.”

“You're a valued member of the team,” Shiro continued. “And I'd like to have the chance to have you show it. That's the other reason I wanted you with me. Because this is as much about gathering information as it is getting the Mavrodite.”

They entered a huge room filled with mining equipment and metal scaffolding. Lance looked around, spotting the telltale glint of a Blade stabbing one of the sentries atop one of the scaffolds. “Uh. Is that supposed to happen?”

“What?” Shiro whirled around, jumping out of the way as the broken sentry fell down to the floor. “What the quiznack?”

Lance blinked, staring in shock as Shiro swore, before watching for any other sentries. The Blade, a slim figure, all gangly limbs, clambered down to stare at them. The Blade was round-faced, and a pale purple like Ulaz had been, but with more hair, all tied up in a tight braid. They were also short, just barely taller than Shiro. Lance wondered, vaguely, if this Blade was a teenager like them.

“What are you doing here?” the Blade hissed, shoving at them. “Go meet the rest of your team! Gather the Mavrodite and leave, you have mere doboshes before the rest of the guards realize what has happened.”

“What?” Lance shared a baffled look with Shiro.

“What are you talking about?” Shiro asked. “Antok sent us to speak to you.”

“Kolivan sent me orders to rig the colony to explode,” the Blade replied. “I was not given knowledge of any sort of extraction. You must leave now!”

“What?” Lance repeated. “We're not leaving you here to die!”

“I am unimportant,” the Blade growled, shoving at them. “This is what it means to be a Blade. We are all willing to die if it means that the Blade of Marmora is protected, and that Zarkon will be defeated. You are here, now, so his demise is close. Take the Mavrodite and leave. Voltron cannot lose any members. You are too valuable.”

“We're not leaving,” Lance stumbled back, grabbing onto the Blade. “You're coming with us. You're important too.”

“Lance is right.” Shiro took hold of the Blade's other arm, pulling them along. “Dying for a cause means nothing. It's pointless to give up your life like it's worth nothing, like you're worth nothing. You have value, and nobody can take that away. You can do more by living than you ever could by dying here. Now what do you mean, you rigged this place to explode?”

“I took Mavrodite and I spread it throughout the colony,” the Blade explained. “I then shut off the coolant systems. Once they overheat, then the generators will blow, and the Mavrodite will be exposed to atmosphere. The entire colony will explode by that point, leaving no trace it or anything on it was ever here.”

“Including you,” Lance breathed. “You can't just throw your life away like that!”

“Lance is right,” Shiro repeated, all but dragging the Blade down the hallway. The Blade jerked free of Shiro's grip, grimacing when they spotted Shiro's prosthetic arm. “You're coming with us. You have a lot to live for, and you're not dying here.”

“I am unimportant,” the Blade insisted, looking indignant, but they nearly ran alongside Lance and Shiro. “In the grand scheme of the universe, the life of one Blade does not matter. We complete the mission, no matter what. We keep the Blade a secret, no matter what. I am not afraid of dying.”

“That's what I'm worried about,” Shiro grumbled. “You're alive, and we know you, so you can't just go off doing reckless stunts that endanger your life. Not when there's someone, somewhere, waiting for you to return.”

“NO one is waiting for me to return,” the Blade quietly replied. “There is no Blade with living family. It is better that way.”

Lance shared a horrified glance with Shiro.

“That's wrong,” Shiro growled. “You're important to a lot of people. Your fellow Blades, for one. Antok sent us to meet with you, he clearly cares about you.”

“I'm nobody,” the Blade said, shaking their head. “That is all any of us ever are. Fleeting specks in history.”

“Well, I've got some news for you.” Shiro looked angry, but not at the Blade. “History has its eyes on you.”

“What's your name?” Lance asked, out of the blue. “You have to have one; everyone has a name.”

“It is irrelevant,” the Blade said. “Hurry!”

“It's not irrelvant!” Lance insisted. “When the history books are written, someone has to know who to thank for getting us the Mavrodite. It can't just be some nameless Blade. It won't. I won't let it.” He growled. “History is going to remember us all.”

The alarm blared, and Lance booked it, a step behind Shiro. They made it past a rapidly closing door and into the main hallway leading to the docking bays, and he glanced back, making sure that the Blade was still with them.

The Blade watched from behind the door.

“No,” Lance whispered, running back to the door. “No! Shiro!”

“Lance?” Shiro turned around, already half a dozen feet ahead. He spotted Lance standing at the door, looking out at the Blade on the other side. “Lance we have to go!”

“Not without them!” Lance met the gaze of the Blade. “Not without you!”

“I am no one,” the Blade called out, their voice muffled by the door. “Go now. You have less than two doboshes to get to your ship.”

“Not without you!” Lance repeated, prying at the door to get it to budge. He spotted Shiro's prosthetic arm, grabbing it and practically slamming it onto the panel beside the door. The panel glowed red, but the door didn't move. “No. No!”

“Lockdown has begun,” the Blade said, far too calmly for Lance's liking. “They have spotted the sentries I took down. This door will not open. You cannot save me.”

“We're not leaving you!” Lance cried, looking for a way to break through the door, some hinge, some weakness that he could exploit. “Shiro, your arm. Activate it and cut through this. You can do it, it won't take long.”

“We don't have time.” Shiro wrapped his arms around Lance, pulling him away from the door, away from the Blade. “Lance we're leaving.”

“Not without them!” Lance screamed, flailing in Shiro's grip. “We have to save them! Shiro please! Shiro! Takashi! Takashi please, we can't let them die!”

Shiro held firm, hoisting Lance over his shoulder as he ran toward the bay Green held in. Lance locked eyes with the Blade, who stood on the other side of the still-locked door, watching with a calm that chilled and scared Lance.

“What's happening?” Hunk asked as they entered the bay, the alarms still blaring. “Did you break something important? Are we caught?”

“We're not caught,” Shiro replied. “The colony's going to explode if we don't leave.”

Lance caught sight of a huge tube holding a golden crystal in Hunk's arms, and he met Hunk's terrified expression, knowing that he didn't look any better.

“We left them,” he whispered, barely audible over the alarms. “They're going to die and we're letting it happen.”

“We didn't let anything happen,” Shiro growled, visibly angry as the ran into Green. He set Lance down by the seat of the cockpit, glaring out as Pidge sped Green away from the colony. “We're going to have words with Kolivan once we're back at the Castle. If that's how the Blade treats its own, then we need to have a serious talk about how the Blade values the lives of others.”

“What?” Keith shared a baffled, anxious look with Hunk. “What happened?”

“The Blade rigged the place to explode,” Lance dully explained, pulling himself back together. “They didn't expect any kind of extraction. They basically set themselves up to die, and they were okay with that.” He shook his head, shakily climbing to his feet. “We tried to save them. I tried to save them.”

“There was nothing we could do,” Shiro added, visibly holding back his rage. “We didn't have time to do anything.”

“But we – we got the Mavrodite.” Hunk looked over at the canister. “That's a win.”

“It's a wash,” Lance said. “We got the stuff, but we lost an ally.” He chuckled, dry and humorless. “And now we know how the Blade values their lives.”

“They don't,” Shiro bluntly stated, pointedly looking at Keith. “And that need to change. Now.”

“Wormhole ahead,” Pidge said, drawing everyone's attention to the screens. “And scans show that all those Galra ships are gathering around the colony we just left.” Pidge blinked. “Which... isn't there anymore. It's just empty space.”

Lance stared at the wormhole, gathering himself together. He shared a look with Shiro, who matched his icy rage.

“Let's go back,” Shiro said. “Allura needs to hear about this.”

Chapter Text

“Aha!” Lance cried, reaching into the closet. “I found the mops!”

“Good!” Keith called out. Lance heard splashing, and Keith cursed. “Hold still you little quiznack, I haven't even– no. No! don't you dare– gah!”

Lance sharply glanced over as Keith pulled away from the sink, soaking wet and dripping bubbles. Chuchule squeaked as they ran from the sink, while Plachu settled into the water victoriously. Over by the table, Antok and Slav were helping scrub the food goo off of each other while Platt and Chulatt watched from the far side of the table, radiating smugness.

“You okay?” Lance asked Keith, holding out one of the mops. “Want a break from washing the space mice?”

“Please,” Keith growled, snatching the mop out of Lance's hand. “They're Allura's mice, she can clean them.” He wiped bubbles out of his bangs. “Above the sink there's either towels or tablecloths. I don't care, just get me one so I can get dried up.”

“Got it!” Lance chirped, heading over to the sink, where Plachu eagerly swam along. Plachu cheerily squeaked up at Lance. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun while you can in that little pool.” He tapped along the wall above the sink, searching for the shelving, and crowed in victory when a square section of the wall shimmered and vanished, revealing... “Oh. Yeah, I can't tell either.”

The probably-towels were thin, but finely woven. They were also very absorbent, drying Lance's hand from just being held.

“I know,” Keith grumbled. “Now toss me one.”

“Here.” Lance lobbed one of the towels at Keith's face. Keith squawked when the towel hit on target, and Lance grinned as Keith hurriedly dried himself off. Walking over to the table, he offered a small pile of towels to Antok and Slav.

“These are very fine,” Slav commented as he took them. “Do you know the weave?”

“Does that affect the absorbing?” Lance asked, flapping out a towel to wipe down the table. Behind him, Keith aggressively mopped at the food goo splattered and scattered across the floor. “Or is it one of those feeling things? Like it feels rough on your skin.”

“Nothing like that.” Slav shook his head. “A finer weave means it absorbs 16.473 percent less.” He wiped his head clean, then went to scrub behind Antok's ears. Slav paused, nodding to himself. “This is a fine weave. Very efficient absorption rate.”

“Thank you,” Antok said, smiling up at Slav. “Now let me help you, old friend.”

Lance stepped away, deeming the table clean enough, and went to join Keith in mopping up the floor. Together, they cleaned up the kitchen. When they were done, he surveyed the shining kitchen with pride, tossing the mop from hand to hand. Keith smirked, holding his own mop up in challenge.

“Lightsaber battle?” Keith offered, and Lance matched his grin.

“I'm more of a Han Solo person, but sure.” Lance shrugged, holding up the mop-turned-lightsaber. “Savant Garde!”

“It's en garde,” Keith corrected, lunging. Lance parried the blow, taking a step back. “Don't you know any French?”

“I'm Cuban,” Lance retorted with a strike of his own. “You want to know what's going on in a telanovela or flirt a good game, I'm your guy. I don't know any French.”

“French is the language of love and you're telling me that you never learned it?” Keith snorted, easily blocking Lance's attack and returning with a wide swing. Lance hopped back to avoid it, nearly tripping over a chair.

“Hold the phone,” Lance held up his hand, affronted. “First of all, French is pretentious. Second, the phrase is Latin lover, not French lover.”

Lance leaped forward, batting aside Keith's mop in a fancy spin that nearly had the mop flying out of his hands. Keith retaliated, unfazed by the attack, and countered. The two laughed, in the midst of battle, while Antok and Slav watched from the sidelines, bemused. Lance took a step back blocking one of Keith's strikes, and lost his footing. He fell to the ground, Keith pointing the tip of his mop at Lance.

“I have won,” Keith declared, grinning. “The Dark Side has lost.”

“Rats,” Lance dramatically sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. “The light has won.” He closed his eyes, faking death. After a moment, he cracked an eye open to see Keith grinning like a loon, one hand outstretched. Lance took it, using Keith to leverage himself back to his feet. “That was fun.”

“Your footwork was horrid,” Antok said, looking over Keith appraisingly. “Is that how you usually fight?”

“No.” Keith shook his head, sharing a look with Lance. “That was just for fun.”

“Even so.” Antok stood. “I will teach you how to fight. Beginning early the next quintant. You have much to learn.”

Keith paused, staring at Antok with stars in his eyes. “I have become a padawan,” he whispered. Keith turned toward Lance, grinning. “I'm going to be a Jedi!”

Antok coughed while Slav squawked in horror. “You will not!”

Keith froze. “...this isn't another one of those translation things, is it?”

Antok stared at Keith. “A jedi is... someone who sells their body for physical pleasure.”

Lance coughed, patting Keith on the shoulder consolingly. “Don't worry. You've still got your magical destiny sword. No one can take that from you.”

Keith nodded, not taking his eyes away from Antok. “Right,” he faintly said, sounding crushed. “A piece of my childhood just died.”

“Poor kid,” Lance slung his arm over Keith's shoulders. “Although I guess we should have seen something like this coming. I'm still dreading showing Star Trek to Allura and Coran.”

“Is the tour done?” Slav asked. “I wanted to see the engine rooms.”

Lance shared a look with Keith. He suppressed a yawn, nodding. “Yeah. It's down below the hangar, I think. We can swing by there later. Hunk or Pidge know a lot more than I would, and they'd be able to answer your questions a lot better than I ever could.”

Slav nodded. “I calculated as much. There is a 0.968 percent chance of your tour leading to the engines.”

“That's low.” Lance huffed in amusement. “Let's try to beat those odds, though. I like a good challenge.”

Keith and Lance's helmets, set aside while they cleaned, beeped. Lance hopped over, snagging them and handing Keith's over. Sliding his on, he tapped on the comms. “What's shaking?”

“We have retrieved the crystal and are bringing it into the Castle,” Allura replied. “We shall meet in the bridge once it is secured.”

Lance glanced at Slav and Antok. “Actually, we could meet you in the main hangar? I'm honestly curious to see more of Shay myself. It still feels weird knowing that they're not in some kind of relationship in this universe.”

Keith froze, looking at Lance strangely. “They're friends. That's it.” He paused. “I thought you only wanted to do the tour because you were tired.”

“And then everything changed when the space mice attacked,” Lance replied, snickering. “I've always wanted to say that. But anyway, I am less tired, and also I figure we should inform the Balmerans about...” he gestured at Antok and Slav. “you. They're going to find out about this alliance one way or another, and now's as good a time as any.”

Antok nodded. “That is a wise decision. A controlled environment is better for sharing information than an uncontrolled situation.”

“It is true,” Slav added. “It can increase the likelihood of success by 19.47 percent.”

Lance nodded. “Well then. Let's go do a meet and greet with Shay.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Lance groaned, slumping against Takashi as they walked into the bridge. “Let's go and sleep. I've spent far too much time today being nice. It's exhausting.”

“You did what you could,” Takashi replied, wrapping an arm around Lance and pulling him close. “Nobody's expecting this alliance to be smoothly accepted by everyone.”

“He's absolutely right,” Pidge added, hugging Hunk with Keith. “You don't have to do everything. That's a stupid thing.”

“It will not be quick for the universe to accept that there are Galra on our side,” Allura said. She glanced at Keith. “Woblay knows I am still accepting it. This alliance was made barely half a quintant ago. Certain... facts were learned only vargas ago.”

“Yeah, today we learned Keith's dad was a furry,” Hunk said. “Or... his mom?” Hunk twisted, looking down at Keith suspiciously. “When you turn all fuzzy and purple, does that make us all furries?”

“I'm not going to turn fuzzy!” Keith protested, making a face.

“Hunk, you're derailing,” Lance called out. “Your boyfriend is Galra. We'll work out him turning fuzzy if it happens. Now, is there any way we can put off explaining the whole alliance business until tomorrow?”

“What?” Allura paused, halfway to the dais. She fixed Lance with a sharp expression. “I hope you have good reasoning for that.”

“It's been a long quintant,” Lance replied. “We've gone on five missions. Five. The med bay had to be used after one of those missions. People nearly died!”

“Hey!” Hunk protested. “Looking back on it, we totally weren't in danger of getting digested by the Weblum!”

Lance paused, pointedly staring at Hunk and Keith. “...I was talking about myself. And Kolivan.”

“Why Kolivan?” Takashi asked. “I didn't think Pidge was all that serious with their threat to maim.”

“I was absolutely serious about my threat to maim,” Pidge sagely chimed in. “I take my maiming very seriously.”

“Ignoring that,” Lance groaned. “I... may have stolen his blade and threatened to kill him with it?” Lance put on his most innocent smile. Allura stared at him, scandalized, while Antok snorted, one hand moving up to cover his chuckling. “He wouldn't stop the trials and Red was literally ripping the base apart. I had to do something!”

“You threatened to kill Kolivan?” Keith echoed in quiet disbelief. “For me?”

“Soccer mom Lance strikes again!” Pidge cackled, high-fiving Hunk.

“Also ignoring that,” Lance ground out. “We have had a very busy quintant. I have had to pull off diplomacy twice and I don't want to try a third time. I am exhausted. All of us are exhausted. Look at Hunk – he's got his tired eyes!”

Hunk blinked rapidly. “What? No I don't!”

Pidge and Keith shared a look, then squinted up at Hunk suspiciously.

“You do,” Keith agreed. “You have eye bags.”

“Well, so do you!” Hunk countered, shimmying his arms free to take Keith's head in his hands. “You look awful, and we still have a How It's Made marathon to do.”

“You're both going to fall asleep during it and I'll end up learning more than I never wanted to know about how duct tape is made,” Pidge grumbled, shifting to snuggle up between them.

“So yeah,” Lance gestured around the room. “We're exhausted. We've more than earned a couple vargas of sleep.”

Allura looked at Slav. “Very well. I will call up the Olkari and explain the current situation as I can. Lance, Pidge, I would prefer it if you were at my side. Hunk and Shiro, if the two of you could deliver the scaultrite and the crystal to Coran once we land.”

Allura didn't phrase it like a question, and they nodded.

“I'm still not doing Galra-Olkari diplomacy without a couple vargas of sleep,” Lance warned her. “Also what will Keith be doing?”

Allura hesitated, looking over at Keith. “Keith... can show Slav and Antok to their quarters. I am sure they want to become... reacquainted with one another after such a long time apart.”

Lance paused, looking over at Allura curiously. There was something about the way she phrased that, something about the way she described Antok and Slav's reunion, that seemed off.

He shrugged. The day had been long enough, and whatever it was, he could deal with it in the morning.

“Okay,” Lance said, pulling Takashi along toward his seat in the front. Slav eagerly went along to the forward console, Antok amusedly following behind. “So we have a plan. Let's go to Olkarion and then call it a quintant.”

“Alright!” Hunk cheered. “Wait. Lance, Keith, you didn't deny going purple. Lance? Keith? Guys? Can he go purple? Is there going to be a purple Keith? Guys?”

True to Allura's word, she managed to – with some help with Pidge, and a little talking from Lance – get Ryner and the other Olkari to let the Castle land and give the paladins several vargas to sleep off the long quintant. Lance had had to explain that they had to re-defeat a headless robeast, and after that Ryner had conceded that the official face-to-face meeting could wait until the next quintant.

“With the Paladins working so hard, I should expect them to be well-rested when we finally meet again,” Ryner had said.

Stepping into his room, Lance paused at the sight of Hunk splayed on his bed, Keith laid out half-beneath him, and Pidge sitting on the edge, studiously staring at their laptop.

“Are they asleep?” Lance asked, staring at the apparently-dozing Hunk and Keith.

“I told them,” Pidge said, shaking their head. “I said they'd fall asleep halfway through the episode and they did.”

“So now you're coding again?” Lance asked, trying to remember where he slept, if not in his own bed.

“Going through security footage,” Pidge corrected. “I finally managed to download a prisoner database, because that place used to be fully stocked with prisoners, and now I'm running a search for my family.”

“Because you're a Holt,” Lance supplied. Pidge nodded. Glancing at the bed when Hunk made a particularly loud snore, Lance smiled. “So how are you handling it? Him being part Galra?”

“I want to be mad that he didn't tell us,” Pidge growled, before sighing. “But... I can see where he was coming from. You're pretty much the only person here who doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Galra. And again, you're basically the team mom.”

“Not true,” Lance argued, walking over to the bed. “You're forgetting about Coran. He's the real team mom here.”

“Not nearly as much a soccer mom as you, Lance,” Pidge flatly replied. “Look at what you're doing right now.”

“What?” Lance frowned, looking down at the blanket in his hands. “It gets cold, and I know Hunk doesn't like it when he knocks his blanket off.”

“I rest my case.” Pidge smiled, nudging their glasses, the light glinting ominously off of them. “Now bi, Lance.”

Lance froze, squinting suspiciously at Pidge. “That was a pun, wasn't it?”

“There aren't enough bisexual puns in the universe,” Pidge replied. “But I'm proud of that one.”

“Bi five?” Lance asked, holding up his hand.

“Bi five!” Pidge grinned, high-fiving him. “But seriously, leave. Go cuddle Shiro's cleavage or something.”

“Oh!” Lance nodded. “That's where I sleep.”

“On Shiro's cleavage? Seriously? I was joking.” Pidge shook their head, looking two seconds away from pinching the bridge of their nose.

“No, not there. With Takashi!” Lance nodded, pointing at the door. “I'm so tired I... actually forgot I wasn't in my universe.”

Lance's smile drooped, before he gave Pidge finger guns, walking backwards out of the room and into the hallway. As soon as the door slid shut, he dropped the smile entirely.

He'd forgotten. In the flurry of the entire day, Lance had almost forgotten that this wasn't his universe, that he didn't belong here.

“Lance?”

He turned around, spotting Takashi staring at him in concern. “Oh. Hey. Sorry, I was–”

Lance gestured at the door to his room, and Takashi smiled, stepping over toward Lance. “I get it. Not the first time you've gotten so tired you forget which room we're in.”

Lance tried to smile, but couldn't. “You... remember that I'm a different Lance, yeah?”

Takashi faltered for half a step. “I do. It's hard to forget. You're almost exactly the same but... the way you look at me sometimes, it's... you're not him. My Lance.”

“I'm sorry,” Lance offered, pulling Takashi into a hug once he was close enough. “But you'll get him back. Just a few days more, and he'll be back.”

“I know.” Takashi held Lance close. “I know. He'll be back here and you...” Takashi shook his head. “I don't like the plan. I don't want to see you out there as bait.”

“But I have to,” Lance replied. “To get Zarkon where we want him.”

“Where we need him,” Takashi quietly added. He kissed Lance on the top of his head. “Come on. Let's get to bed. It's been a long day.”

“You don't have to tell me twice,” Lance muttered.

The next morning, Lance sat between Takashi and Antok, and felt unfairly short. The kitchen smelled like mixed fruit, the air tangy and sweet to the taste. Hunk hurriedly nursed over the stove, while everyone else sat at the table.

“Is this was life is like for you?” Lance asked Pidge, who took one look at his seating and doubled over laughing. “Pidge stop laughing, I'm serious.”

“So am I,” Pidge cackled as they slid across from Takashi and practically shoved their laptop across the table. “Look! I found him! I found Matt! He's alive.”

Lance froze, sharing a wide-eyed look with Takashi, before leaning in to see. It was a video, a short clip of a prison break, of Matt Holt getting dragged out by – “Are those the space pirates?”

“They are!” Pidge shrieked with glee. “Now all we need to do is find the actual space pirates and we'll find my brother.” They locked eyes with Takashi, who stared at the video, which looped around again. “He's alive. He's okay.”

“Matt's okay,” Takashi echoed in awe. “He's okay.”

“Ah!” Coran stepped into the room, unaware of Takashi's current state. “There you are, Hunk. You weren't in your room.”

“Yeah, I wanted to make a special breakfast for the guests.” Hunk stepped away from the stove, wielding a spatula like a weapon. “I wanted to make them pancakes, because the Olkari have grains, and I just – I miss pancakes.”

“Those are flapjacks?” Lance smiled. “They smell like fruit.”

“The Olkari have those too.” Hunk grinned. “I went out and asked for help with food. We can eat more than flavored food goo now. I'm so happy I could cry. Too late, I'm already crying.”

Hunk wiped his eyes, turning back toward the stove.

“So why were you looking for Hunk?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I've made a breakthrough with the teludav,” Coran replied, walking over to peer suspiciously at the stove. He nodded, satisfied with what he found. “Hunk, I would like you to make those scaultrite cookies again. Except perhaps this time, you use a higher concentration of ground scaultrite.” He paused. “Also, I noticed that we were missing one of the bags.”

“Yyyeah, that one kind of... got stolen?” Hunk shared a shifty look with Keith. “Keith made a friend.”

“Stolen?” Coran sputtered, whirling on Keith. “By whom?”

“I don't know,” Keith replied. “But whoever they were, they didn't want anyone knowing they were at the Weblum too.”

“She,” Hunk corrected. “That was definitely a woman. Also? She was a Galra.”

“What?” Takashi tore his gaze away from the video of Matt to look at Hunk.

“You made a friend,” Lance echoed. “A Galra friend. Was she one of the Blade?”

“I doubt it,” Antok replied, shaking his head. “Scaultrite has many uses, but none of them are beneficial to the Blade. And neither Kolivan nor I would allow the risk of harvesting from a Weblum. The Blade does not act within risk of failure to complete a mission.”

“So an unknown Galra knows that Voltron was harvesting scaultrite.” Lance groaned. “At least tell us why you're so certain she won't tell anyone about you?”

“I just got that sense from her,” Keith replied. “All the other Galra we've come across were obviously Galra. I didn't realize she was part of the empire until I got really close to her. I couldn't see her face and she never spoke. She also didn't shoot us when she had the chance. That has to mean something.”

“Fine.” Lance groaned, looking over at Allura, who remained silent. “Nothing to add, Allura?”

“It is strange to hear of a Galra not wanting to be affiliated with the empire.” Allura shook her head, looking troubled. “Still, I couldn't say for certain unless I was there. There are many things about the Galra I am reconsidering, because of recent events.”

The Blade and Keith, Lance knew.

“Getting back on track,” Pidge said, looking at Coran. “Why do you need Hunk to make his scaultrite cookies?”

“Because with the amount of scaultrite we have, we couldn't possibly make enough pure scaultrite lenses for the teludav.” Coran shook his head. “But! Hunk's recipe, with just a bit of alteration, could easily produce viable scaultrite lenses for use in the teludav – and more than enough to fill it.”

“Sweet!” Hunk grinned, holding up a huge tray of green-blue pancakes. “I can do that. It's just a matter of calculating the ratio of ground scaultrite to the rest of the mix. I figure it's got to be increased, since the first batch needed–” Hunk shuddered, “–lubricated.”

Lance and the other humans shuddered in sympathy.

“I can help!” Slav piped up. “Do you have scans of these scaultrite cookies for me to study? I could calculate the correct ratio of ground scaultrite to add to increase efficiency.”

“Indeed I do.” Coran pulled out his tablet, bringing up his scans of Hunk's cookies. “You are Slav, then?”

“I am.” Slav squinted up at Coran. “And you are this ship's mechanic?”

“The very same!” Coran preened. Lance froze, halfway toward reaching for the pancakes.

“Oh no,” Takashi murmured beside him.

“How would you feel about restructuring it? The current layout is horribly inefficient.”

Lance straightened up, watching with interest as Ryner and the other Olkari approached. Antok waited in the away capsule with Keith, something that Allura and Lance both agreed was for the best.

“Many greetings.” Ryner smiled, welcoming Pidge as they ran up to hug her. “It is great to see you again, Pidge. And under better circumstances.”

“Indeed.” Allura smiled. “It is great to meet in person as well. I am Princess Allura, of Altea. Olkari and Altea were once great allies. I can only hope that Olkari can remain an ally of Voltron.”

“Always, Princess.” Ryner frowned, one of the dragonflies buzzing over to land atop her head. “There is another with you?”

“Yes,” Allura hesitated. “Recently we have made an alliance with a faction of rebels within the empire.”

“Other rebels?” Ryner hummed, thoughtful. “And the one with you is a liaison between Voltron and these rebels. Very well. We are open to meeting this mysterious person.” Louder, she said. “It is alright to come out. There is no reason to be nervous.”

“Actually,” Lance began, sharing a look with Allura, “there kind of is. See, the rebel faction is... from within the Galra ranks.”

“What?” Ryner stilled. “Galra? Voltron has allied with Galra?”

“They're against the empire,” Lance explained. “They've been fighting from within for almost as long as the empire's existed.”

“You are certain of this?” Ryner looked at each of them – from Pidge to Lance to Allura. “These Galra can be trusted?”

“I wouldn't know,” Pidge grumbled, giving the away capsule a dark look.

“I trust them about as far as Allura could throw them,” Lance replied. “Which... is pretty far, actually. The Princess here is very strong.”

“I am not that strong,” Allura gently chided him. To Ryner she said, “The Blade of Marmora, as they call themselves, have proven multiple times to be against Zarkon and his forces. We would not ask you to place your faith in them blindly, but we would ask that you allow their liaison to remain on this planet with us. He would, of course, leave when we do.”

Ryner looked at them warily, then at the away capsule. “What has led you to trust these Galra? You are certain that their intentions are not toward destruction?”

“One of our own Paladins joined their ranks,” Lance said. “Keith. He pilots the Red Lion. Recently he learned that one of his parents was a Galra. A Galra from the Blade of Marmora.” He raised his voice. “Keith, Antok, you mind coming out here?”

“Are they going to shoot at us?” Keith called back. “I'm willing to fight, but I don't want to.”

“There is no need for them to step foot on Olkari soil.” Ryner sighed. “Very well. They can stay. The Red Paladin, at least, has proven to Olkarion and her people that he is trustworthy. Time will tell if this Blade of Marmora is the same.”

“Awesome.” Lance grinned. “Never mind! We're good! Meet and greet is off, but the good news is we can stay. Now you can go back to the Castle and get to teaching how to turn on the magical destiny sword like you wanted.” He turned back to see Ryner looking at him with an odd expression. “What? Oh, did you actually want to meet Antok? He's pretty cool, has a decent sense of humor.”

“No.” Ryner shook her head. “No, of course not.”

“Alright then.” Lance paused. “There's something else – related to the business building the teludav, actually. Hunk's come up with a way to make a lot of scaultrite lenses and he needs help. Can you spare a couple Olkari to help him?”

“Yes, of course.” Ryner nodded. “He came out earlier asking if he could forage for food. He is very kind-hearted.”

Lance grinned. “That's our Hunk. We'll let him know. He'll be pleased as punch.”

“I...” Ryner looked at Allura, baffled. “He will be pleased?”

“Yes.” Pidge rolled their eyes, walking back over to the away capsule. “That's just how Lance talks. You'll figure it out soon enough.” They groaned. “That's enough nature for me. I might like it now, but only in small doses.”

“Alright then.” Lance nodded. “I think that's it on our end. Glad we could have this talk. Hunk will be with Coran at the teludav, so you can send the Olkari that way.”

“Yes.” Ryner nodded. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Princess. Perhaps we could speak again soon.”

“I would love it,” Allura replied. “We could meet over tea later. I've been told that the teludav will take several quintants to complete.”

“It will.” Ryner smiled as Lance walked turned back toward the away capsule. “Their species are not patient, are they?”

“We're just young,” Lance replied. “Nothing to it.”

“Come on, Lance, I think that dragonfly smiled at me!” Pidge called out. “It had teeth!”

Lane laughed as they nervously bounced in place, dodging Keith's attempts to hold them still. He saw the dragonfly in question, saw several of them buzzing together, and did his best not to shiver when they all grinned at him with their far-too-human teeth.

Green came out of the wormhole hidden behind a moon. Pidge had the cloaking already on, and Lance frowned at the sheer number of fleet ships were circling the Askari Cluster. Antok had said that it was under heavy guard, but to see it for himself...

“There's almost as many as when we attacked Zarkon's ship,” Hunk pointed out, sounding far too nervous for Lance's comfort. He smiled.

“And none of them will ever know we were here,” he said, slinging an arm over Hunk's shoulders. “This is a stealth mission, bud, and Green's got that awesome cloaking tech. Don't you trust Pidge's modification?”

“I do!” Hunk yelped, nodding. “I just – that's a lot of ships.”

“And we won't be fighting any of them,” Lance assured Hunk. “We're going to get in, meet with the member of the Blade, get the Mavrodite, and get out. Easy peasy.”

“You say that now,” Hunk mumbled.

“Famous last words,” Keith muttered under his breath.

“Don't either of you have any faith in your datefriend?” Takashi asked. “Pidge knows what they're doing, just like us.”

“Exactly.” Lance nodded.

“We're approaching the Askari Cluster,” Pidge said. “Which, by the way, that's a stupidly ominous name for an asteroid field.”

Pidge pulled up the coordinates Antok had given them, as given to himself by the Blade stationed in the mining colony, and steered Green into the asteroid field.

Soon enough, the colony came into view – a hulking structure tethering two of the most massive asteroids together. Massive mining gear could be seen on either side, while the thin metallic structure connecting them looked to be a docking bay.

“Going in. Green's already doing a tech scan to loop us invisible on their security.” Pidge guided Green into one of the bays, and frowned at how empty it was. “Okay, still feeling ominous.”

“Let's just get it over with before it starts sinking in how horror movie-like this all is.” Lance shook his head, standing up straight. “The faster we're done, the less likely it is that anything goes wrong.”

“And remember to be careful,” Takashi added. “I know Slav said the Mavrodite is safely contained, but let's not push our luck.”

Together, they exited Green, finding the nearest console for Pidge to hack into.

“Okay, good news and less good news,” Pidge announced. “Which do you want first.”

“Good news,” Keith replied.

“On the other side of that door is a corridor. We go right, it'll take us right to the Mavrodite.”

“Less good news?” Lance asked.

“The Blade we're supposed to be meeting?” Pidge looked up at Lance. “We gotta go left. They're on the other side of the colony, away from the Mavrodite.”

“We'll have to split up,” Takashi stated.

“Okay.” Lance nodded. “Pidge, you and Hunk take Takashi and get the mavrodite. Use his arm to get whatever access you need. I'll take Keith to meet with the Blade, since he's also a member. He can also open doors for me. We'll meet back here once we're done.”

Everyone nodded, and Keith placed his hand on the bioscanner beside the door. Lance watched it, really watched it this time, and Keith gave a small sigh of relief as the door opened. They split up, Lance and Keith going left, while Takashi went right with Hunk and Pidge.

The whole place felt eerily quiet, no guards in sight, and Lance and Keith ran the entire length to the end, where a door was shut tight. Lance nodded at Keith, who placed his hand on the scanner, opening it. They ran inside, down another corridor, and into a huge open area, full of scaffolding and mining equipment – and sentries. Lance stifled a shriek as a sentry fell down in front of him, slashed nearly in two.

“What are you doing here?” A Galra dropped down, a familiar blade in hand. They stood up straight, and Lance blinked at how small they were – about equal in height to Takashi. Round-faced and with hair tightly braided, the Blade blinked at them in surprise. “You're supposed to be gathering Mavrodite.”

“That's what the rest of our team is doing,” Lance said. “Antok sent us to talk with you.”

“What?” The Blade tilted their head, confused. “I don't understand, why would he do that. I already got my orders from Kolivan. I've hidden Mavrodite throughout this colony, all it needs is for the charges to go off and the whole mining colony implodes.” The Blade looked at them frantically. “You need to go now.”

“You rigged this place to blow?” Lance shared a shocked look with Keith. “Come on, let's get back to Green. You!” He pointed at the Blade. “Come on. You can explain on the way.”

“What?” The Blade repeated. “No. I know my worth. I know my use. It's here, taking out this mining colony. Without this colony, Zarkon will lose a major source of Galodium to build his sentries and ships.”

“Talk while we run,” Lance insisted, gesturing for them to start. “Now move!”

He shoved at the Blade, who stumbled forward, before Keith latched onto their arm and yanked, pulling them along.

“Listen! Once the alarms sound, then there's only doboshes before the Mavrodite containers fail. You need to leave.”

“Not without you,” Lance declared, taking the Blade's other arm in hand. “We already had mission where a Blade died once. I'm not having that happen again.”

“I'm nothing,” the Blade said, pulling against them. “This is what I can do. I might be replaceable, but if I can just do this, then I will have been useful.”

Lance stopped, staring at the Blade in shock. “Hold the phone. You're not replaceable. You're important. You're not some nameless, faceless individual. You are the single most important person here, and you know what? History will remember you, and you're going to live to see it happen. If you die here, for something as stupid and as preventable as this, then that's a waste of a life. Your life. I should know, I was in your place a while ago. Sacrificing your life isn't worth it. So come with us, live your life, and live a long life, one for the history books.”

The alarms blared, and Keith cursed. “Lance, we need to move!”

“Yeah!” He glared at the Blade, who nodded, wide-eyed. “Let's go.”

“Kotak.” The Blade fell into step behind Lance. “My name is Kotak.”

“Hey, Kotak,” Lance stepped onto the hallway, looking back to smile at Kotak. “I'm Lance.”

The door slammed shut, locking tight – with Kotak on the other side.

“Quiznack.” Lance turned to face the door in horror. “Keith! I need your hand. Or your sword. Either way we need to open this door.”

“I–” Kotak looked away from the small window, then back up at Lance, resigned. “This is lockdown. The scanner won't work.”

“Keith!” Lance turned to see Keith running back. “Cut through the door. You can do that, can't you?”

Keith activated his bayard, slicing at the door – but not cutting through it. Keith grunted, slicing several more times in rapid succession, but the door still held firm. “I–I can't.” He looked up at Lance, lost and scared. “It'll take too long.”

“Try the bioscanner anyway,” Lance said, pushing up against the door, pressing his hand against the window. “Don't worry, Kotak. We'll get you out of here safe.”

The bioscanner beeped at Keith's hand. “It's not working.” Keith slammed his hand against the scanner, which beeped again. “It's not working!”

“Maybe this is how it was meant to be,” Kotak said, his voice muffled from the door. “Maybe this is where history ends for me.” Kotak closed his eyes. “I have imagined death so much it feels like a memory.”

“Kotak,” Lance felt his resolve slipping, as Keith went back to slashing at the door. “History will remember your name.”

Kotak opened his eyes, locking his gaze onto Lance. “Thank you.”

“Keith, we need to go.” Lance reached out, tugging at Keith. “The countdown.”

Keith looked at Lance, then at Kotak. He growled, frustrated and angry and broken, and made one last slash at the door. Still, it held firm. “I'm sorry.”

Keith's voice wavered, shook with emotion. Kotak nodded, not daring to speak.

It broke Lance's heart to leave him behind. Every step he and Keith took felt like a betrayal, and a promise. Who lived, who died, who told Kotak's story.

Lance found himself, all too soon, sitting in Green with the others, the containers of Mavrodite safely stored away as they rapidly flew away from the colony. Green shuddered with the shockwave when the colony exploded, and Lance had to hold Keith back from punching a hole in one of Green's consoles.

“What happened?” Takashi asked, once they were safely away from the Askari Cluster and the Galra fleets. “Did you meet with the Blade?”

“His name was Kotak,” Lance said, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “He rigged the place to blow. We couldn't save him.”

Takashi froze. He stared at Lance and Keith in horror, before pulling them into a hug, held them tight, squeezed them tighter when Hunk wrapped his arms around them from behind.

“We did what we could,” Takashi murmured into Lance's hair. “We tried our best. Next time will be different. It won't be like with Ulaz, or with Kotak. Next time, we'll save them.”

It felt like a promise Lance wasn't sure he could keep.

It felt like a promise he desperately wanted to fulfill with all his heart.

Chapter Text

Lance stormed out of Green side by side with Shiro. Keith and Pidge followed after, with Hunk trailing behind, carrying two canisters of Mavrodite under his arms – Keith held the third, cradling it close.

“Guys?” Keith called out, sharing a look with Hunk as they all crammed into the elevator. He kept looking at Hunk, lost – which, Lance supposed, was fitting. The last time any of them had seen Lance so furious, had seen either of them so furious, had been just before the meeting with the Blade.

“Is this a real angry because of that Blade guy, or because you're worried about Keith?” Hunk asked, and Keith huffed, giving Hunk a betrayed look.

“Bit of both,” Lance replied, taking a deep breath. “Count the alphabet backwards. No point getting angry now.”

“There's no point getting angry at all,” Keith protested. “I get that we lost someone, but do you really have to get angry about this? We tried to save him.”

“He set the bombs,” Shiro said. “And he didn't expect to get out of there at all.”

“He didn't want to leave,” Lance added, mentally recalling the alphabet. Z, y, x... “It was a kid just like us. He was fully prepared to stay there and die. He didn't think his life mattered in the bigger picture.”

“Which is pointless.” Shiro gave Keith a impassioned look. Keith balked, offended, but Shiro continued before he could respond. “Everyone matters. There's never any point in sacrificing yourself. Especially not for the bigger picture, or because someone else is more important. No one is more important or valuable than anyone else. No one and nothing is ever worth dying over.”

The elevator went silent at that, and Lance shifted. His cold fury melted, and he wondered if maybe Shiro was still speaking about Lance, or about something else alltogether.

“So are we not going to talk about how Shiro looked at me?” Keith asked the elevator at large, sounding offended still. “I'm not going to throw my life away. I don't try to throw my life away.”

“You do kind of do a lot of reckless stunts, though,” Hunk offered with a smile that seemed more like a grimace. “Like asking me to shoot you out of Yellow while a robeast is firing at us.”

“Red caught me, didn't she?” Keith protested, still offended, and looking at Hunk in betrayal.

“Or taking a weapon to an alliance meeting when they specifically said not to come armed?” Lance added. He raised up a hand when Keith turned on him. “I know, we only have that alliance because you brought it, but still. You nearly died.”

“And then there was running off during the night,” Pidge said, shaking their head.

“And holding Lubos hostage,” Lance continued. “I still don't know why you did that one.”

“Befriending that one Galra,” Hunk finished, and everyone stared at him. “What?”

“What Galra?” Lance asked.

“When was this?” Shiro pried, looking from Hunk to Keith, baffled.

“Uh.” Hunk smiled. “Did I say Galra? I meant – uh, I meant – tell them what I meant, Keith.”

“I'm not telling them anything,” Keith surly replied, hugging his canister of Mavrodite close. “Because I'm reckless like that.”

“Keith!” Hunk pleaded. “Not cool, man. And after I got pooped out of a Weblum to save you and get the scaultrite!”

“You got pooped out of a– no, I don't want to know.” Shiro shook his head in defeat, reaching up to rub at his brow.

“What Galra and where?” Lance asked. “Was this at the mining colony?”

“We didn't come across anyone there,” Pidge replied. “Well, some sentries, but those guys are all robots. They don't count.”

“Okay fine!” Keith growled, glaring at everyone – and especially glaring at Hunk. “I saved a Galra in the Weblum and they–”

“She,” Hunk corrected, then quailed at the murderous glare Keith sent his way. “Just saying. Seemed like a she to me.”

“She helped us get the scaultrite,” Keith finished. “She also held us up for a bag, but I'm sure she won't tell anyone, least of all Zarkon, that she saw us there.”

Lance stared at Keith in disbelief. “Is this a Galra thing?”

“No!” Keith groaned, sliding back up against the wall. “I just didn't get the impression that she wanted anyone knowing she was there!”

Lance raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Pidge and Shiro.

“Okay then,” Shiro sighed, reaching up with his arm, then dropping it down. “So we've got a random Galra who knows Voltron was harvesting scaultrite.”

“It might not be as bad as we think,” Pidge mused. “They could just think we're fixing the teludav. Which, technically, we are. And if any Galra go looking, we won't be there at the Weblum.”

“But they might attack the Weblum,” Lance said, frowning in thought.

Hunk shuddered, sharing a look with Keith. “They won't. Trust us, they're not attacking that.”

“So that's that, then,” Lance sighed. The elevator dinged, opening to the hallway outside the bridge. “Let's get game face on. Antok has a lot of explaining to do.”

“He does.” Shiro nodded in agreement. Together, they stepped out of the elevator.

Inside the bridge, Antok was deep in discussion with Allura and Slav. He turned when they entered, his gaze glancing over all of them. Once they were all in the room, his face fell.

“He... isn't with you?”

The words stop them in their tracks. Lance stared, wide-eyed, at Shiro, who was gazing at Antok in shock. After a moment, Shiro's face cleared of emotion, leaving behind only steely determination and suspicion.

“You expected the Blade to live.” Not a question, but nothing accusing either.

“Kolivan told me about the plans to mask the smuggled Mavrodite with an explosion. Something that would disable the mining of galodium, if only temporarily.” Antok shook his head. “Sometimes... loyalty unto death can take another form. Neither Kolivan nor I enjoy it when a fellow Blade interprets it to mean that meaning can be found in death, but there is little we can do to stop it. The Blade of Marmora is not meant to deal in hope. That is Voltron's duty.”

“It is alright, old friend.” Slav stepped forward. “In 98.682 percent of all possible realities, they did not return with the young Blade. The possible futures were against his survival.”

Lance watched Antok look at Slav, watched the crestfallen expression soften, just a little, and felt like someone should say something, like he should say something.

“I tried,” he offered up. “I tried to save him. Tried to get him to listen to reason. Tried to break open the door when he got trapped. But...” Lance trailed off, looking at Shiro.

“There wasn't any time,” Shiro continued, his voice quiet but firm with emotion. He raised his right arm, clenching his hand into a tight fist. “If there was, I could have cut through the door. We barely made it out before the whole place imploded.”

“I... had hoped–”Antok looked away. “I apologize. I should have warned you.”

“You should have,” Shiro acknowledged.

“This better not be normal for the Blade though,” Lance spoke up, looking at Shiro studiously. “Voltron isn't about sacrifice.”

“Neither is the Blade,” Antok replied. “We are about loyalty. To what the Galra should be, not what they have become because of Zarkon. We work toward that goal within the system. We have worked tirelessly for decapheebs, centapheebs even, to turn this empire into what Zarkon promised it. It is only lack of resources, exactly as Voltron, that we have not been able to launch such an attack before.”

“Well we're here now,” Shiro said, and sighed. Lance saw the anger and upset melt away, and looked back at Keith, who was watching the exchange with interest.

“We got the Mavrodite.” Hunk gestured with the canisters in his arms. “So this should be enough for the gravity engine.”

“Yes yes!” Slav bobbed his head, dashing forward to look at the canisters with glee. “This is enough for the gravity engine I plan to build. Come along! We must go down to the twenty-second level and begin building it immediately!”

“So soon?” Pidge raised an eyebrow, taking Keith's canister from him. “Can't we wait an hour or something?”

“An... hour?” Slav tilted his head in confusion, before shaking it. “No no no! It must be now! Building the gravity engine now will increase the chance of success by 96.989 percent.”

“Seriously?” Hunk looked up at Allura. “Did we miss something?”

“Actually, yes.” Allura shared a look with Antok. “Coran has called from the teludav. It appears it will be completed sooner than expected. The Olkari have all volunteered to help build it, and it will be completed in ten vargas, by Coran's estimate. We will be leaving in the next quintant.”

Lance blinked, sharing a shocked look with Hunk. He hadn't expected everything to move so fast. He was grateful, though, that everything was coming together. He liked this alternative of his team well enough, but he wanted to go back to his universe, his team.

He wanted to go back to his Shiro.

Lance hung back as everyone went off, Shiro going to watch Keith and Antok train – and train himself, testing his hand against their blades – while Pidge and Hunk were carted off to help build the gravity engine with Slav.

“So,” he began, looking around the empty room at Allura. “Tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes.” Allura nodded, stepping up to Lance. “By the end of the next quintant, we will have taken down Zarkon for good. And then we can begin our next mission of sending you back to your universe.”

“Thank you,” Lance said, smiling at Allura gratefully. “Really. I like it here, but... it's not my universe. Blue's a beauty, but she's not my Black.”

“I have some idea of how you must feel.” Allura's smile was small, just a faint tilt of her lips, and sad. “But unlike myself, you can return to your home.”

Home – now there was something Lance' hadn't thought about. What was home, for him – his universe? His Earth?

“You can make Earth a home,” Lance offered. “My family's large, and we love bringing new people on. Hunk and his family are practically honorary members themselves. You wouldn't be the girl my parents expected me to bring home – and, uh, Coran wouldn't be who I ever expected to bring home ever, but – you have a place with my family back on Earth, if you want.” Lance smiled. “I know your Lance would offer the same thing.”

“Perhaps he would word it differently,” Allura confided, her smile growing, the sadness fading away just a little. “But I would love to see Earth. What little I have heard of it, it sounds beautiful.”

“It is.” Lance nodded. He winced. “I know it's no Altea, but... it's someplace you can try living, when this is all over.”

“I will try,” Allura promised. “I do not know if I could trust myself to stay with the Lance of my universe, however. His personality is very... strong.”

“He– I– ugh. Stupid pronouns.” Lance chuckled. “If he's anything like I was – which I'm guessing he is – then... be patient with him. And firm! I'll stop if you ever really tell me to. The flirting is really one of those things I do to break the tension and get you to laugh. If you laugh, I've done a good job. If you don't, then I just have to try again.”

Allura reached out, pulling Lance into a hug. “Don't worry. I will look after him. After all, I am determined to see you and Shiro together.”

Lance winced, pulling away. “Yeah. About that... don't try too hard? I did my best with Shiro here, and it took a while in my universe to get him to open up to me. The most I'm looking for is that Shiro and your Lance will be friends. I don't think– if that's how Shiro usually treated your Lance, friends is the best either of us could hope for. And by us, I mean you, me, and other me. Because he's spent all this time with my Shiro, and...” Lance huffed, smiling fondly. “He'll definitely have warmed up a bit. My Shiro can be like that.”

Allura smiled. “I can only hope that you and your Shiro reunite soon. Love is sacred, and you more than deserve it in your life.”

“I know.” Lance gestured at the door. “Do you want to go to the control room for the training deck and watch Keith fail to activate his magical sword?”

“As enjoyable as that sounds, I cannot.” Allura frowned. “It appears I need to bathe the mice. They recently discovered how to work the dispensary in the kitchen and now smell of soured food goo.”

“Want some help?” Lance offered. “I have experience bathing small, squirmy creatures from my cousins and younger siblings.”

“I would very much appreciate that.”

Lance was accosted on the way to the bedroom.

And by accosted, he meant Hunk reached out and yanked him into Keith's bedroom.

“Uh.” Lance stumbled, trying not to fall. “Okay, is this an intervention? Relationship advice? Because I honestly do not know how you got together.”

“It's not that.” Keith crossed his arms, glaring at Hunk from the edge of his bed. “I wanted to do this alone, but Hunk insisted.”

“You talked to Hunk by yourself?” Lance cooed. “Awww, Keith!”

“I tried to give him a surprise hug!” Keith protested. “But he just– he– you know!”

Keith flailed in Hunk's direction, face reddening, and he only sheepishly grinned.

“I'm too good,” Hunk replied. “Also I thought Keith was trying to surprise attack me and I hugged him on instinct. Did you know he goes all limp when you lift him? Like a cat!”

Keith made an anguished noise, falling into his bed to hide how red his face was getting.

“That is adorable,” Lance said. “Pidge does the same thing with you. But I think with them it's more resignation than anything else.”

“Sounds like Pidge,” Hunk sagely agreed, nodding his head.

“So, Keith?” Lance looked at the teen in question, who grunted from the depths of his bed. “What's up?”

Keith pulled away from his bed, glaring at Hunk. “Can we have some privacy?”

“Let me think about it?” Hunk hummed for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah, no. No privacy. If this is some kind of confession, I want to be there for it.”

“It's not a confession!” Keith shrieked, falling back into his bed. He pulled up, taking a deep breath. “Okay, it is a confession. But not that kind of confession!” he hurriedly added, glaring at Hunk. “I just wanted to say... since tomorrow is when we get Zarkon back and then you'll be going back to your universe... I, uh, I wanted to know if you could... not.”

“What?” Lance blinked, confused. He shared a look with Hunk, who shrugged, just as baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“Canyoustay?” Keith blurted out, the words nearly running over each other. He coughed, trying again. “Can you, uh, stay? Here? I just – I like you. A lot more than I like the other Lance. Which I know is awful, and I know you can't actually stay, but I really want you to stay because you're actually easier to get along with and I... mightseriouslyseeyouasabrother?”

Lance furrowed his brow. “You what?”

“You called me family, and I can't not see you as a brother after that!” Keith grimaced. “And the lightsaber battle, and the talks we've had about my Galra self, and – I like you better than the Lance from this universe, and can't you stay?”

“Keith...” Lance's expression softened, and he sat down beside Keith, gesturing for Hunk to sit down on the other side. “You need to accept that I'm not here permanently. I miss my own team. If you want me to stay here, just think about how the other you feels.”

“I know that!” Keith snapped, before wilting. “And I now it's wrong and I shouldn't but I really want you over our Lance.”

Hunk wrapped an arm over Keith's shoulders. “Don't worry, dude. It's alright to miss Lance. I miss Lance – my Lance.”

“I'm right here,” Lance dully muttered. Louder he said, “We're the same person underneath it all, Keith. I promise that your Lance is exactly like me. You just need to reach out. And who knows; after all this time spent over in my universe, he could come back a lot more like me than like he was before.”

“Mellow and actually nice?” Keith wondered. Lance resisted the urge to swat at him.

“Confident and caring.” Lance grinned. “I'm actually really caring underneath it all. The most he's getting over in my universe is a confidence boost.”

“Oh great,” Keith muttered, rolling his eyes. “That's just what he needs. He's going to come back worse than before.”

“Real confidence,” Lance amended. “It's a lot better than acting macho. Leaves you feeling better too. You just need to reach out and be the support he needs. You're the Red Paladin, and you're also my brother-in-law, basically.”

Keith froze, looking at Lance with the most horrified expression. “What? Oh. Oh, I'd suppressed that part. Why did you have to bring that up?”

“What, that I'm getting bi on Shiro?” Lance gave Keith and Hunk a sly grin, and Hunk laughed, offering a fist to bump. “I'm kidding! The most we've done is hand holding.”

“Hand holding's the ultimate expression of– of–” Keith fell back, grabbing his pillow and screaming into it.

“Also there's the fact that we sleep in the same bed, but that's really more casual than the hand holding,” Lance added for Hunk's benefit.

Keith groaned into his pillow, long and agonizing. Lance patted Keith on the knee sympathetically. “There, there?”

“Not helping,” Keith moaned through his pillow, pressing in harder to his face.

“Neither is trying to suffocate yourself.” Hunk grabbed the pillow, yanking it out of Keith's hands. “Now come on, dude. We're going to be the best support system for our Lance when he's back!”

“That's a lot more than he's expecting,” Lance offered. He looked at the pillow in Hunk's hand, and hummed. “Hey, how does a sleepover sound? We could gather everyone together and meet up in the one lounge? Or the observatory, fall asleep under the stars. All of the night sky with none of the beetles crawling to eat your face mask.”

Keith sat up, raising an eyebrow questioningly, while Hunk thought about it.

“I think it would work.” Hunk nodded. “I'll grab the bedding while you guys get Shiro and the others?”

Lance looked at Keith, who tentatively nodded. Lance grinned, nodding at Hunk.

“It's sleepover time!” he cheered. “We can do our nails and tell scary stories and pillow fi– oof!”

Lance fell off the bed, the pillow thrown in his face. He peeled it off and looked up at Hunk in betrayal. Hunk, in response, laughed. Keith was grinning too, right up until Lance launched the pillow at him.

Lance watched as Zarkon's fleet appeared, clenching the seat tight. The plan was finally happening; the teludav was in position in front of the Castle, ready for Allura to activate it, and they had met up with Kolivan. Now all that remained was for Zarkon to fly close enough, and then he would be wormholed away, to the distant and empty Yggis Galaxy.

He watched Shiro maneuvering around the dozens of fleet ships, his arms moving to ghost through the motions himself. He couldn't get used to it, couldn't find it in himself to see Black being piloted without him inside.

“Slav, activate the gravity generator,” Allura commanded. On a side screen, Slav nodded, moving along. On the main screen, the outside shimmered before settling into place. “Excellent. Shiro, the teludav is waiting for you to lure Zarkon's ship into position.”

“There is a problem,” Kolivan said, stepping away from a side console. “Thace is not responding, and he has not made contact for the last three quintants.”

“Is that a problem?” Hunk asked, looking around worriedly. “That sounds like a problem.”

“He could be captured,” Antok said. “He could be dead. Either way, Thace is unable to reset the system and download the virus.”

“Guys?” Shiro called out over the comms. “What's going down? How are we looking?”

“Minor setback,” Allura replied, not taking her eyes off of Kolivan and Antok. “It appears one of us will have to go and download the virus instead of Thace.”

“I'll go.” Everyone looked over at Keith as he stood. Lance made a face, standing as well.

“Nope!” He stalked over to Keith. “No. No no no. You're not downloading the virus.”

“I'm Galra!” Keith protested. “I can sneak in and reset the system!”

“Can you read Galra?” Lance asked. “Like Kolivan or Antok? Or even look like you belong there like they can?”

Keith balked. “No, but–”

“Exactly.” Lance nodded, triumphantly.

“Infiltrating that ship is a suicide mission,” Kolivan added. “I would not dare send an inexperienced Blade. I would hesitate even to send one of our best.”

“Guys?” Shiro asked. “Am I clearing a path for Keith?”

“No,” Antok said, pulling up his hood, his mask forming over his face. “I will go. Kolivan is needed here to coordinate, and he has the schematics of Zarkon's command ship with him. He can guide me.”

“He can take the podship,” Pidge said. “The one I modded with the booster also has a cloaking tech.”

“...yeah about that,” Keith began, cringing. “How fast can you make another podship with cloaking tech?”

Pidge narrowed their eyes at Keith. “What did you do to my podship?”

“Nothing!” Keith insisted. “I just... when I snuck out with Allura, we took that podship, and when I pressed the booster to get back to the Castle the podship exploded.”

“Oh.” Pidge paused, then shrugged. “Okay then. I did say that it might explode. Gimme... five doboshes? I can have a podship ready.”

“Good.” Lance nodded. “Shiro, what do you think about that plan? You'll be helping clear a path for Antok in about ten doboshes.”

“I trust you've got everything in order,” Shiro said. “You're good at planning, Lance. I'll leave it to you and Allura to make the final call here.”

Lance felt his gut twist, warmth spreading across it. This was what he wanted for the other Lance – the respect and the inclusion. This really was it.

“Do it,” he said. “You better come back alive, Antok. Don't you dare die out there.”

“Of course not.” Antok canted his head. “I have no intention of letting my journey end here.”

“It better not,” Lance grumbled. “I do not want to be three for three on missions where a member of the Blade dies.”

“Princess, Zarkon is on the move!” Coran called out, and everyone looked at the main ship, which started forward, slowly moving toward the target point. Shiro darted close, slicing through the fleet ships with ease, and Lance grinned.

They had this.

It was taking too long. There was something wrong. Thace had reappeared with Antok, injured, and now they were blockaded in the central hub. Lance had had to lead the charge as the others flew to join Shiro, and Slav kept fretting over the gravity generator, which was due to fail at any dobosh.

Lance dodged ion cannons, firing back with his own laser blasts, and spotted the main cannon of Zarkon's ship firing up.

“Guys? Is anyone else seeing that?” Hunk asked, and Lance did a barrel roll, knocking Pidge out of the way of an ion blast. Lance retaliated with Blue's ice cannon, and grinned as the fleet ship exploded in a burst of ice.

“Antok? What's happening?” Shiro called out over the comms, and Lance felt his blood run cold as the gravity engine failed, revealing the Castle and teludav.

Everything was going wrong.

“I will need someone to come retrieve me,” Antok said. “Thace will be staying behind. The system cannot be rebooted, so we have decided to overload the central hub.”

“You're leaving Thace to die?” Lance cried, frustrated.

“Keith, zero in on Antok's position,” Shiro commanded. “Antok, why is Thace staying?”

“He is injured, and one of us would have to remain to prevent the empire from simply stopping the overload.”

“You couldn't just shoot the control panel?” Lance asked in disbelief. “That always works in the movies!”

“It's not a movie, Lance,” Shiro said. “But you have a point. Is it too late for Thace to come along?”

“...no.” There was a loud blast, followed by a grunt. “Move quickly. I cannot protect Thace from open space.”

“This was where my journey ended,” Thace's voice grunted over the comms.

“I promised someone that this mission would have none of the Blade die,” Antok blithely replied. “Now be quiet while I save your life.”

Lance saw Keith zero in on the access point Antok was coming from, saw the main cannon of Zarkon's ship targeting the Castle, moments from firing.

An explosion rocked Zarkon's ship, a plume of flame bursting out of where Keith was positioned before dying out without any atmosphere to sustain it. Zarkon's ship lost power, going dark. Lance cheered with the others as the main cannon lost power, going dark.

“Activating teludav!” Allura cried, and Lance watched as a wormhole, more massive than any before, erupted to life. The Castle moved forward, pushing the wormhole forward.

Lance and the others blasted at the remaining fleet ships and fighters, aiming to destroy all of them and stop them from following. Zarkon's ship slipped into the wormhole, lifeless, and Lance let out a breathless laugh.

They did it. They actually did it.

“Come Paladins!” Coran cried, steering the Castle around the wormhole. “We need to follow after before the wormhole closes.”

“How's Allura?” Shiro asked.

“Did we get Antok and Thace?” Lance called out. “And is Allura fine?”

“The Princess is tired, but she's stable,” Coran replied.

“I am fine as well,” Antok replied, popping up on screen behind Keith. “Thace is here as well. He will need medical attention.”

“I'll drop them both off at the Castle after we're through the wormhole,” Keith promised. “Then we can go and kick Zarkon's butt.”

“Great!” Lance cheered, sucking in a nervous breath as they entered the wormhole.

This was it. This was the end. They were going to defeat Zarkon, and he was finally going to go home. Things were finally going right.

Chapter Text

By the time they returned to the Castle, Lance had pulled himself back together. He stood between Hunk and Takashi, Keith behind them, close to Pidge, as the elevator opened up to show the hallway outside the bridge. The canisters of Mavrodite were in Takashi and Hunk's hands, ready and waiting for Slav to use to power the gravity engine.

Kotak deserved to live, deserved everything. Voltron fought as a symbol of hope, and what hope was there in the people fighting if they never lived to see the peace they desired. Hope was more than just planting seeds in a garden for future generations to see blossom; hope was something that the people fighting now deserved to see. Hope and peace weren't promises for some far-off future that someone like Kotak, like Ulaz, like... someone like Lance or Takashi or Antok or any of the other people fighting.

Lance's hope was to see Earth again. His hope was to return to his universe. It was his to want, his to earn, his to keep. His life to live.

Hope was living.

Kotak had deserved as much. Ulaz had deserved as much. The universe – either universe, any universe – deserved as much, deserved more.

They entered the bridge, and Lance paused at how Antok perked up at their arrival, his tail flicking up and his ears standing tall.

“Did you know?” Lance asked, trying to keep his voice level, trying to keep his emotions from bleeding through.

Antok froze, looking at Lance sharply. Reflected in Antok's yellow eyes were the same kind of hurt and pain that Lance felt himself, had seen in Keith's eyes before – after telling him about his blade, after leaving Kotak behind.

“Lance?” Allura's brow furrowed, and she looked over everyone, before settling on a neutral expression on Keith. “Was there a complication on the mission?”

“Something like that,” Pidge replied, nudging Keith forward. “We got the Mavrodite before the mining colony exploded though.”

“Kotak's dead,” Keith bluntly said. “He didn't want to come with us.”

“I... suspected,” Antok quietly admitted, while Slav bustled over and peered at the containers of Mavrodite in Takashi and Hunk's hands. “I apologize. I should have warned you.”

“Yes,” Lance agreed. “You really should have.” He shook his head. “I'm tired of missions where someone– where someone just– does that.” He cleared his throat. “Just tell me that line of thinking isn't normal in the Blade.”

“I want to,” Antok replied, his voice sad. “Kotak was young. He should not have felt that he should sacrifice himself. But there are some among those we recruit who believe that it is the cause we fight for that we must put above all else. The trails ask only of loyalty, not willingness to sacrifice oneself.”

“You need to change that,” Lance declared. He glanced at Keith. “Voltron isn't like that. We don't – nobody should ever feel like they're not important enough. Nobody should ever feel like their life doesn't matter.” He gave Antok a red-rimmed glare, although it was more pleading than anything else. “No one else dies from here on out. You promise me that, Antok.”

“Of course.” Antok canted his head, tail flicking upward. “Would you like me to pass it along to Kolivan as well, or would you like to yourself?”

Lance snorted, while Takashi put a hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.

“It's enough for now,” Takashi said. His eyes flickered toward Allura. “Kolivan's coming here?”

“He is already traveling this way,” Allura replied. “Coran has informed me that the teludav will be completed sooner than expected. Ryner and the Olkari have all gathered to help build it, and it will be ready by the next quintant.”

“Tomorrow,” Lance breathed, and his head felt light. Pidge snagged the Mavrodite from Takashi's grip, and led the way toward the elevator with Hunk and Slav in tow. “Can the gravity engine be ready by then?”

Slav turned, giving Lance the okay. “There is a zero point zero three two percent possibility of the gravity engine not being ready in five vargas. It will be functional.” He paused, lowering his hands. “Although... I am unsure of the extent of that functionality.”

“What?” Allura blinked, taken aback.

“Wait wait wait.” Hunk paused near the door, looking back at Slav uneasily. “Will it work or won't it?”

“It will!” Slav bobbed his head, giving Hunk eight finger guns, before wilting. “I just do not know about the extent of time it will remain functional. I have never created a dimensional pocket large enough to hide something so huge.”

“Well, you've got Hunk and Pidge here to help you,” Lance assured Slav. “They're the best people you could ever ask for.”

“And Coran as well,” Allura added. “Rest assured that you are not alone here.” She faltered, glancing at Lance. “That being said, perhaps it would be safer to avoid activating the gravity engine until Zarkon is within the system.”

“Not near Olkarion, though?” Pidge asked, giving Allura heavy side-eye. “I like the Olkari.”

“Yeah, dude, they already beat up the Galra once,” Hunk added. “They shouldn't have to do it a second time.”

“That's our job,” Keith proudly stated.

“That's not going to happen,” Takashi declared. “We're not letting Zarkon anywhere near Olkarion.”

“That's right. The closest he'll ever get to Olkarion is about four or five systems away from here, Pidge,” Lance answered, looking at Allura expectantly. “Also, Keith, I'm concerned about you.”

“Lance is right.” Allura winced. “About the plan, I mean to say. Coran and I have already singled out the Yggis galaxy as our target to send Zarkon's ship. It is far from any civilized system and is outside of Zarkon's current control. And we will wait to have Zarkon learn of the Black Lion's location until we are a safe distance from Olkarion. This time next quintant, we will be engaging Zarkon in a final battle.”

Lance nodded, and dismissed everyone.

Lance stood outside Blue's hangar, feeling like he shouldn't be there. This wasn't his Blue, wasn't his beautiful girl. But still, he wanted her to be. He wanted the familiar sense of the ocean in the back of his mind, wanted the whalesong and the crashing of waves and the babble of streams and rivers and brooks.

He wanted to talk to his Blue, not Takashi's Blue.

Turning away from the hangar, Lance moved into Black's hangar. The lights there were tinted a vibrant purple, not at all like the darkly purple of the Galra. It felt warm, there, felt vast and expansive, like he was stepping into the open sky.

Black rumbled, bending forward to let Lance in through her mouth.

“Hey!” He grinned, reaching up to pat her. “I'm not here for that kind of visit. I just... wanted to talk.”

Curious chirping echoed, and Lance shivered when it sounded like it was in the room and not in the back of his mind.

“We haven't actually talked since the whole bonding thing,” Lance began. “I wanted to touch base with you about that. About your Lance.”

A squawk, indignant, sounded through the room, clear as day to Lance, and he could have sworn he felt the winds buffeting him forward, closer to Black.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm your Paladin,” Lance conceded, throwing his arms up in surrender. “But... technically I'm also not. Because of the whole universe switch.” He sighed, arms dropping. “I'm sorry if I didn't seem like your Paladin sometimes. Or if it feels strange because I'm a different Lance than you're used to.”

Black rumbled, and again the winds buffeted at him, feeling far too real. They pushed him toward Black, and he laughed, stepping forward.

“Okay, fine. I'll come in.” Lance stepped inside, and shivered at the radiating sense of comfort, the sense of freedom and power and gratitude that pressed upon him. The last shocked Lance, before he nodded, smiling. “It's okay. If I were being chased by Zarkon like you were, I'd be grateful to be free of him too. You're a sublime beauty who belongs to no one.”

Black rumbled, and Lance got the impression that she was pleased at that description. He laughed alongside her, walking into the cockpit and settling into the pilot's seat. Letting out a deep breath, Lance let the tension bleed away.

“Tomorrow's the big day,” he said. “We're going to have to let Zarkon find us. Find you. Are you... okay with that?”

A pause, before a sharp hawk's cry sounded. Lance nodded, understanding. Black was ready to fight.

“Good. Good.” Lance nodded along, leaning back. He reached out, patting and rubbing the nearest console. “You're doing so well.” He paused, his smile slipping. “I know I bonded with you a lot, but don't hold it against your Lance. If he's even halfway like me, he'll have the same kind of respect for you that I have.”

Black grumbled in the back of his mind, a stale, dry breeze that gave Lance the impression that she agreed with him, but didn't see the point in it.

“And...” Lance cut off, blinking in confusion when he spotted Takashi and Hunk standing in the hanger, looking up at Black. “Um. What? Hold on.”

Lance stepped outside of Black, stepped away from her, stepped toward Takashi and Hunk.

“There you are,” Hunk breathed, moving up to hug Lance. “Come on. Sleepover in the observatory. Pidge and Keith are getting Antok and Slav to join in. Allura and Coran are already waiting and we need to find extra pillows.”

“Sleepover?” Lance blinked, looking from Hunk to Takashi. A sly grin crossed his face. “We're doing a sleepover in style. Tonight we're learning how to apply cosmetics and wear face masks and I will be doing the full mani-pedi.”

“You can't get Keith to agree to that,” Takashi mildly said, although he was grinning. “But I'd like to see you try.”

“I was talking about you.” Lance nodded matter-of-factly, even as Hunk picked him up and carried him out of the room. “But I'm sure we can get Keith to wear his pajamas, at least. If we're lucky, we can raid Allura's room for nail varnish. I think it's safe for humans to use. Hunk, let me up.” Lance squirmed, and he grinned as he was situated atop Hunk's shoulders, and pointed out into the hall. “Onwards, you magnificent land mermaid!”

“Me?” Takashi squawked, before running after Lance and Hunk, who were charging down the hallway with reckless abandon. “Hey, I didn't sign up for that! Lance? Lance!”

“Is this supposed to feel tingly?” Keith asked, warily reaching up to poke at the rapidly-drying face mask.

“Dude this isn't tingly,” Hunk replied, swaying in place. “This feels like it's eating my face. It's made of food. It should be eaten, it shouldn't be eating me.”

“Those are both normal,” Lance assured them, crawling back into the circle they made within the fort. Slav was curled around Antok, the both of them wearing blue-and-white pajamas that Coran had dug up – interestingly, Lance found that Antok looked exactly as furry as his head suggested, with red lines trailing along the backs of his hands and up his arms. He also, Lance was pleased to note, had something like paw pads on the tips of his fingers. “That means the face mask is working. And later on we can peel them off and everyone's skin will be shiny and clean.”

“Your knowledge of alien chemistry terrifies me,” Pidge declared, slumped over in Keith's lap. “Did you even know this would work?”

“Almost,” Lance replied, picking up his own cup of nunville. He took a sip, and shuddered, then took another sip. He supposed it was a lot like coffee – no one ever actually liked the taste, but the effect was enough that they could learn to bear it. “And I was surprised myself. I figured the worst that would happen is I would have dried up food stuck on my face.”

“That's fair,” Hunk said, looking around the circle. Coran rubbed nunvill on his moustache in-between sips, and Hunk shuddered. “If eating it won't kill us, then I guess that's as good a measure of human-safe as anything.”

“Found one!” Takashi walked into the room, brandishing a water pouch. He ducked into the fort, crawling into place on between Lance and Pidge. “It's not an actual bottle, but I think it works.”

“So how does this game work?” Allura asked from Lance's other side, a competitive glint in her eyes. “I understand that you spin the bottle, but what happens afterward? Is there a points system in place?”

“There's no winners in spin the bottle,” Pidge solemnly declared. “Only humiliation.”

“It's a human bonding game,” Hunk said, and Takashi nodded, setting the water pouch in the center of their circle.

“You spin the bottle – uh, pouch, and whoever it's pointing to–” Takashi gestured at the top of the pouch, “–has to answer a question from the person who spun it. If it lands on that person, then they spin again. Then the person to the spinner's left spins the bottle.”

“Just a question?” Pidge snorted. “That's pretty tame, don't you think?”

“Pidge,” Takashi warned. “We're not doing dares.”

“Oh, so it's setting the game on easy. Gotcha.” Pidge nodded, pulling out a tablet and proceeding to ignore everything.

“We don't have to explain which way is left, do we?” Hunk wondered, before holding up his left arm. “It's this side. Anything on this side of you is left.”

“Enough explaining,” Lance said, reaching out and taking hold of the pouch. He gave it a good spin. “Let's play!”

The pouch spun, slowing to a stop before Coran. Coran perked up, looking at Lance with a mixture of excitement and determination.

“Ask away. You won't get anything out of me.” Coran got a scary glint in his eyes, and Lance hummed.

“How about... favorite Paladin?” Lance mused.

“You, of course.” Coran nodded matter-of-factly, before pausing, wide-eyed. “Quiznack! You got the information right out of me.”

“That's how it works.” Lance gestured at Allura. “You're turn.”

Allura nodded, a serious and terrifying expression over her face as she reached out and spun the pouch as hard as she could. Everyone leaned back, wary of who it would land on.

The pouch slowed before landing on Antok.

“Oh.” Allura wilted. “I... did not expect this. What is... your preferred food?”

Antok tilted his head back in though, before nodding. “I enjoy the fried zulki of Lagual. It has a very satisfying crunch to it.”

“Lagual still produces zulki?” Allura brightened. “Oh, that is wonderful! I last heard that the zulki species was in danger of extinction.”

“The species had a population boost some centapheebs ago. It's now plentiful. Perhaps far too much, considering that Lagual has attempted to increase trade of zulki.”

“My turn!” Coran cried, reaching out a spinning the water pouch. It landed on Pidge, who stared down Coran.

“Go ahead,” they challenged with a creepy smile. “Ask me anything.”

“Ah!” Coran stiffened, looking nervous. “F-favored color?”

“Neon green,” Pidge replied, nodding. “You may survive.”

“My turn, then?” Antok asked, idly reaching up to scratch as Slav's ears – he'd curled himself around Antok and very quickly fallen asleep. He spun the water pouch, landing on Hunk. “Those... pancakes, you called them? How did you achieve such an airy quality?”

“Okay so I found this one tree bark on Arus that basically does the same thing as baking soda,” Hunk replied. “It produces air bubbles when it comes into contact with liquids, and all I needed to do was mix it with the grains here and add some water and a bit of this one root I kind of stole from Vrepit Sal from the space mall that tastes kind of like–”

“Not a full recipe, Hunk,” Lance warned. “Also it's your turn.”

“Oh.” Hunk spun the water pouch, landing on Keith. “Okay, so I have to know. Are you going to turn purple?”

Lance stiffened. He shared a look with Keith, and nodded, even as he turned to focus on Allura and Coran. Pidge sat up, looking invested at Keith, who grimaced.

“I...” Keith groaned. “Maybe? I got hit with one of the space witch blasts back on the moon base and it kind of burnt my hand but also turned parts of it purple. Not fuzzy though! Just... purple skin. But then it went away when I got smashed into one of the containers of quintessence so... I don't know? Maybe?”

“Purple Keith is real,” Hunk breathed, stars in his eyes. He shook his head. “Dude, that's... that's messed up. You think you could turn purple at will?”

“Paladins,” Allura interrupted, before sighing. “Keith. I... apologize, if my actions these last few quintants seemed distant. I was – I still am – accepting the loss of my people at the hands of Zarkon and the Galra. I cannot speak for Coran, but I believe he feels much as I do.”

“It's true!” Coran said, his jovial mood vanished. He turned the cup of nunville over in his hands, looking down at it. “Our people are gone. Ten kilopheebs might seem like a long time to all of you, but for the Princess and myself it's been so recent. I remember Altea as it was. I remember the person that Zarkon once was, as well. He was an exemplary Paladin.”

“Altea was not the first loss in the war, it was the last,” Allura said, her voice quiet. “My father and Altea were all that stood to prevent Zarkon from, from – this empire.” She gestured out at the stars. “I remember far too much of the war, and it has made it difficult to trust one.” Allura let out a shaky breath. “With all that in mind... you are an excellent Paladin, Keith. And the Blade... I recognize that you are limited in your actions, but if I am to stand beside Galra in battle... I would be honored to have you stand beside me.”

“Uh...” Keith looked baffled, but relieved. “Thank you? I'd like to keep fighting alongside you, I guess.”

“You guess?” Coran squinted. “What uncertainty is there?”

“We're already fighting together against Zarkon?” Keith threw up his hands in confusion. “What else do you want me to say?”

“You won't do anything stupid like break away from everyone to go on a fight we should all be on together?” Lance lightly offered. “Or hold anyone hostage that we're meant to be saving? Or launch yourself into space during a battle because you know Red will come pick you up?”

“Too many promises he can't keep, Lance,” Pidge snickered. “Try this,” Pidge dropped their voice low in a rough mockery of Keith's voice, “Thank you, Princess Allura, I would also be honored in fighting with you.”

“I don't sound like that,” Keith sullenly protested. “But that does sound better.”

“It does.” Hunk squinted. “I'm suspicious. Pidge wants something.”

“No they don't,” Takashi countered. “We're not trading our Voltron Points.”

“ I never said anything about wanting Voltron Points,” Pidge innocently replied. “But if I were to get more Voltron Points, I wouldn't do it by sucking up to you guys. Lance and Coran have the real power there.”

“I'm not testing how I turn purple,” Keith declared, looking from Pidge to Hunk. “I'm not the Hunk.”

“You mean the Hulk,” Takashi corrected.

Keith sputtered. “That's what I said!”

“You said the Hunk.” Pidge smirked.

“I heard it too.” Hunk frowned. “And I don't know how I feel about that. If Keith's Hunk, then who am I?”

Lance laughed, setting down his cup of nunville. “You guys are awesome. I know I've only been here for about two weeks, but still. Whatever happens next, just... you remind me of my family.” His smile faded, becoming something fonder. “I don't know if I – the other me – told you, but... I miss Earth. I miss my family. But looking at you guys, being around you I – I don't miss it as much. Not like I do when I'm around my team in my universe.” He laughed, short and wet. “It's so selfish of me but – if it were up to me, I– I'd want to stay here. You're all just so happy, and you make me feel so, so happy. You're all amazing, and you make an amazing team, and I'm just – I'm proud of you. Does that make sense? I'm so proud of you. You, all of you, feel like my family.” He sniffled, and wiped away the tears that grew at the edges of his eyes. “The nunville's gotten to me again. Sorry.”

“It's okay.” Takashi reached out, wrapping an arm over Lance's shoulders. “If I were in the same position, I'd want to stay here too.”

Lance smiled, then yelped as a pillow slammed into his face, knocking him out of Takashi's grip and onto his back.

“Aha!” Pidge cackled. “I gotcha!”

Sitting back up, Lance lobbed the pillow at Pidge, who shrieked and batted the pillow, knocking it toward Hunk while slapping Keith clear across the face. Pidge gasped, cackling, then tossed the pillow at Allura. Coran intervened, slapping the pillow away and retaliating with three throw pillows, all hitting Hunk, Pidge, and Keith in the face.

“Pillow fight!” Takashi declared, launching a surprise attack on Keith while Lance snagged a pillow and went after Allura.

Slav woke, shrieked at the sight of pillows flying, and quickly slunk away as Antok and Allura teamed up to take down the quickly-mounted alliance of Keith and Takashi.

Lance laughed, his sadness forgotten in the energetic pillow fight. He might not get to stay in this universe, but at least he could hold these memories close, hold them dear. And maybe, someday, he could have something just like this.

Flying Black into place, Lance breathed out, letting all tension flow away.

“I am a leaf on the wind,” he said, gripping the controls tightly. “And I am not dying today.”

“That's the spirit!” Coran cheered over the comms, and Lance grinned.

“Do you really want to be quoting that?” Pidge asked in disbelief. “Really? That?”

“Fine.” Lance huffed. He let go of the controls, shook his hands, then gripped them again. “I will become the wind.”

“Better,” Pidge judged.

“If we are done with this, perhaps you can get on with luring Zarkon into this system?” Kolivan asked, voice strained. Lance grinned.

“Already on it.” He reached out, muting the comms. Leaning back, Lance closed his eyes and felt Black surround him, felt himself surround her. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the astral plane, Black at his side.

Looking around, Lance blinked at how sparse it was, and at how glowy he himself was.

“Whoa.” Lance waved his arms out, fascinated at how ethereal he looked. “How did I miss this last time?”

Black growled, and Lance paused, looking up at her sheepishly. “Oh. Right.” He looked around. “Alright, how do we do thi– Takashi?”

Lance tilted his head, blinking at the almost-mirage. In another blink, Takashi was gone. Black rumbled, and Lance turned away to spot Zarkon. He was roaming the astral plane, almost like a wraith. He ghosted past Lance and Black, not even noticing them. Lance shivered, but stood his ground.

The other figure hadn't been Takashi, Lance realized, but Shiro. The Shiro from his universe. Which meant...

His team was going up against Zarkon too.

Lance breathed out. “Hey. Before I forget, or if I don't get the chance. Black. Bonding with you like this won't affect my ability to pilot or bond with Blue back in my universe, will it?”

Black looked down at Lance. She tilted her head, and leaned down, nudging him with her muzzle. Lance nodded, his smile thin.

“Okay,” he said, reaching out to pet her. “Okay.” Taking a deep inhale, Lance squared his shoulders. “Are you ready?”

Black purred, pushing against Lance's hand, and he felt filled with her presence, felt like he was more than himself, like he was something greater, something–

The Zarkon wraith froze, turning glowing purple eyes on Lance.

Snapping his eyes open, Lance leaned forward, grinning as he adjusted his grip on the controls. Unmuting the comms, he said, “Incoming.”

“Excellent,” Allura calmly said. “Prepare to activate gravity engine.”

“Gravity engine is charging up,” Slav chimed in. “It will be functional in fifteen ticks.”

Counting the ticks, Lance shook with anticipation, shook with nervous energy that was echoed by Black.

Zarkon's ship came again, appearing out of the black between the stars, flanked by dozens of fleet warships.

“Stay gold, space cowboy,” Lance breathed, Black surging forward. He felt himself bleed into Black, felt Black bleed into him. They spun and twisted between the warships, using their claws and jawblade and lasers to destroy the warships. “Come on,” they said. “Come closer. Come into my parlor.”

“Uh, Lance?” Hunk popped up, and Lance bled away from Black, blinking at the video screen that showed a worried Hunk. “You're not a spider, and Zarkon definitely isn't a fly.”

“Maybe try the Cask of Amontillado,” Takashi offered. “Isn't that something better?”

“I barely read Shakespeare,” Lance said, spinning Black into a corkscrew, jawblade and claws digging deep into several warships. “And I don't even know what that is.”

“It's Poe, not Shakespeare,” Keith corrected. “And it is better than the spider and the fly.”

Lance and Black went closer to Zarkon's ship, cutting through fighter drones before pulling back. Slowly, ever so slowly, Zarkon's ship edged closer. More fighter drones came out, and Lance grinned, feeling Black's elation as they attacked and destroyed everything that came after them.

Curling around the blast of ion cannons, Lance and Black retaliated with laser blasts and the jawblade. And still Zarkon's ship came ever closer amidst the endless fighter drones and hundreds of warships.

“We have a problem,” Kolivan calmly stated over the comms. “Thace has been absent from communication for the last three quintants, and we still cannot get ahold of him. We fear he has been captured.”

“What's that mean?” Takashi asked.

“Will my virus still go through?” Pidge growled. “I worked hard on that beauty, I want to see it play out.”

“The virus will not happen without Thace there to reset the system,” Antok explained. “Zarkon's ship will remain an active threat, even if we manage to send it through the wormhole.”

“Then could we send someone in to manually apply it?” Allura asked.

“The gravity engine will not hold forever,” Slav anxiously added.

“I can do it,” Keith offered. “I'm Galra, I can get through the bioscanners.”

“Keith, you're not going anywhere,” Takashi reprimanded. “We need you and Red on standby.”

“It took pheebs to get Thace into High Command, an infiltration, especially by a youngling and untrained member, is suicide. I would hesitate to send even my most experienced fighters,” Kolivan argued.

“Then don't hesitate,” Antok replied. “I shall go. Ready a podship and I can reset the system.”

“I can do that,” Pidge said.

Lance grunted, pulling away from Zarkon's ship, fighter drones trailing after him. “Guys, make up your mind. Takashi, you're making final call here. I'm a little too busy to multitask.”

Takashi sighed. “Pidge, get a copy of that virus, and ready a podship with a cloaking device. Lance can clear a path for Antok.”

“Can do,” Lance replied. “Antok, you better come out of this alive. No more Blades die with Voltron.”

“I will do my best.”

“That's all I'm asking.” Lance grinned, performing a tight turn and attacking the fighter drones. “This is history in the making.”

The fighter drones kept coming without end, and even Black was beginning to feel the weary. Lance and Black were a second slow in dodging an ion cannon, and got clipped. They spin in place before regaining control, and Lance growled in tandem with Black as they tore into the offending warship, ripping the ion cannon off and beating the warship with it.

Antok hadn't yet reset the system, but he'd found Thace, and the two of them were trapped in the central hub, besieged by the space witches. Zarkon's ship was almost in position, and the gravity engine was going to fail at any tick.

Lance screamed, feeling Black's pain as they were clipped by another ion cannon, and watched as the warship was frozen by a blast of ice.

“We got you!” Takashi said, and Lance let out a breath of relief. Black rumbled in elation, and Lance let out a whoop of joy as they returned into battle, the other Lions coming to fight by their side.

“Yeah, it's time for Zarkon to go down!” Pidge cheered, coming to soar with Yellow, blasting at warships.

“It's too late!” Slav cried. “The gravity engine has failed!”

Space shimmered and warped, the Castle and teludav coming into view.

“Is Zarkon in position yet?” Lance growled, watching as the main ion blaster on Zarkon's ship glowed, charging a massive blast.

“Yes!” Allura cried. “Powering up the teludav!”

“Paladins, we will need someone to retrieve us,” Antok said, breathless. “We could not upload the virus, so Thace reprogrammed the central hub to overload and explode. His ship will lose power completely in thirty ticks. If you'd like us both to continue living, it would be appreciated if you were swift.”

“Keith, go get Antok and Thace,” Lance ordered. “Track their signal back and then meet back up with us.”

Keith dived toward Zarkon's ship, nearing it as an explosion rocked it, a plume of fire consuming the part of the ship Red was diving into.

“I got them!” Keith cried, flying Red out of and away from the explosion.

“Teludav is active!” Allura cried, and above Lance's relative position, a wormhole, dozens of times larger than any Allura had created before, came into existence. Zarkon's ship lost power, the weapons and ship going dark, and the wormhole moved, pulling Zarkon's crippled ship within. All around them, the last of the warships and fighter drones spun out of control, crashing into each other and exploding.

“Paladins!” Coran spoke up. “We must move while the wormhole is still active!”

“Is Allura okay?” Hunk asked.

“She's exhausted herself, but she's fine,” Coran replied. The Castle came into view, flying around the edge of the wormhole. “Quickly now!”

Lance breathed, everyone coming together and flying in formation as they entered the wormhole behind the Castle. Ahead, they saw Zarkon's ship pulled along the wormhole, toward the Yggis galaxy. This was it. This was the end.

Chapter Text

They came out into empty space, the Yggis galaxy stretched out all around them. Coran had been right, about it; all around were the distant glow of stars, nebulas, galaxies, but nothing registered on the scanners, nothing within reach. No systems, no stars, no life.

Dead space, so to speak.

And here, Lance was at the edge of victory. Here was where he could defeat Zarkon, could return home. Not just to Earth, but his home universe.

“You must move fast,” Kolivan said, cutting through to Lance. “By conversion rates, the system will reset in 20 of your Earth minutes.”

Lance breathed out. There was no future without now. And now...

“Keith, how are you at returning Antok and Thace to the Castle?” Lance asked, hands tightening on the controls. “There's no Voltron without you,”

“They're dropped off,” Keith replied, the Red Lion flying back from the Castle. Lance watched as the particle barrier raised, the Castle moving to fly a good distance behind them.

“Form Voltron.” Lance reached out, reached through Black, reached with Black. The hurricane formed, Lance at the center. He felt the others, this time, felt Voltron, felt them move with him, move beside him, move as him. Distantly, he saw the schematics pull up on his screen, highlighting important areas. “Looks like we've got four major areas to hit: engines, weapons systems, shield generators, and the bridge. For simplicity's sake, let's hit the bridge last.”

“You got it, boss,” Pidge said, before pausing. “This is the main ship. It's got all the information on everything – planets and where the Galra are stationed and, and prisoners.”

Lance let out a breath. Pidge already knew where their brother was, but their father...

He wanted to go back home first, wanted to go back to his universe the most, but there were certain things that had to happen first.

“We'll move fast,” Lance replied, the words holding a weight to them that hurt to get out. “Zarkon takes priority. We'll take him down, and then ransack the ship's mainframe if there's time. If not... I don't know.”

“We have Thace,” Keith offered.

“He did work high up in command,” Hunk added. “He probably knows all the passwords.”

“Talk later,” Lance reminded them. “We're on the clock here. Keith, form sword.”

Pulling out the sword, Voltron moved, speeding and slashing all along the ship, leaving a trail of explosions in their wake.

“There!” Takashi said, and a target pulled up on Lance's screen, off to one side of the main cannon. “That's where they keep the– the arena.”

Lance nodded, dry swallowing.

“No more fighting,” Keith declared, and it was echoed by Pidge and Hunk, and Lance yelled out as Voltron brought the sword down, harshly stabbing and crushing that part of the ship. Echoes of satisfaction, of grim pleasure, thrummed at the edges of Lance's mind, alongside the rain of the hurricane he pictured Voltron as.

“No more prisoners,” Pidge continued, as they targeted the weapons systems, slicing through ion cannon after ion cannon. Voltron slammed down above the main cannon, making a massive crater as it destroyed the massive weapon.

“No more destruction,” Hunk said, as they descended to slice and blast at the shield generators.

“No more empire,” Takashi growled, Pidge blasting away at the last of the shield generators. Lance redirected their attention to the bridge above.

“No more Zarkon,” Lance finished. A breathless sense of determination flooded through him, at the idea of taking down Zarkon. Absurdly, Lance had to swallow down laughter at the notion of keeping Zarkon locked up in the dungeon of the Castle, like they had with Sendak. This was how they were going to win the war.

Darkly purple lines lit up along the command ship, trailing down below Voltron. Black lightning arced out at the bottom of the ship, forming a massive black orb that grew with each passing second.

“What is that?” Hunk asked, worry bleeding through his voice.

“I thought that was all his weapons!” Coran cried.

“Oh no.” Kolivan's quiet terror spread a chilling calm over everything. Voltron seemed frozen in place, Lance feeling disturbingly detached from everything, from everyone. “He succeeded.”

“Kolivan?” Keith asked, voice soft. “What is this?”

“It's the–”

Black lightning arced out, blasting Voltron. Lance screamed, heard everyone else screaming. Reality tugged at him, and Lance blinked through the pain, blinked in horror as he saw white energy pulled away from Voltron, as he felt the energy pulled away.

Reality bent and warped around itself, Voltron and the command ship turning into the purple expanse of the astral plane. Lance collapsed, gasping, and froze as he heard someone beside him. He blinked, looking over, he saw himself, in the black armor. Blinking, Lance hurriedly looked down at himself, tears flowing as he saw himself in familiar blue.

“This is it?” he asked the empty expanse. Lance scrubbed away the tears with the heel of his hand. “I'm going back? For real? No take-backs?”

The expanse gave no answer, but for the sound of the other Lance coughing, then crowing in laughter.

He looked over at his other self, wearing the armor he'd been in a moment before, wearing the body he'd been in a moment before. He was back, they both were. Back in their own bodies, and about to be back in their own universes.

The other Lance looked over at him, and Lance faltered. He tried to smile, tried to look happy, but...

What did you do, when face to face with another you? What could you say, to the person who had everything you never knew you so desperately wanted?

Sniffling, Lance wiped at his tears, tried to clean himself up.

“Takashi loves you,” Lance offered, trying again for a smile. He didn't know how long they had, if there was enough time for them to speak to one another. He looked away, unable to stare at himself, even if it was another self from another universe. “Keith's part Galra. I don't– I guess that means the same in my universe, but – they're proud of you. You have a great team. You're fighting Zarkon too, and they're going to need–”

Lance stiffened when he was pulled into the other's arms, when his own hand reached up to cradle the back of his neck.

“I'm so proud of you,” the other Lance murmured, his voice thick. “You're so brave, and so strong, and you deserve so much.”

Lance choked up, reaching out and hugging his other self close.

“I don't want to go back,” he whispered, as if saying the words could change anything. “I want to stay. I don't want to go back.”

“I'm sorry,” the other Lance replied, just as quietly. “I tried to fix things. I tried to make things better for you. I–” the other Lance choked up, “I'm so sorry. You don't deserve–”

He cut off with a choked up sob, and hugged Lance tighter.

Lance wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to scream. It was all so absurd – what had he ever done, to warrant this other self, this other Lance with everything good in his life, crying over him.

“I did my best,” Lance said. “Respect Black. Tell Takashi I–”

The world shifted, warped, and he was pulled away from the other Lance, pulled away from purple and into blue.

Lance opened his eyes to Blue.

“Lance?” Allura called out over the comms. “Lance answer me!”

He laughed, reaching up to wipe away the tears before they could fall.

“Hey Princess,” he replied, the smile hurting even as he clamped down on everything. “I'm back. For good.”

“Oh thank the Ancients,” Coran breathed.

“Lance?” Hunk asked, voice soft. “Our Lance?”

“I'd say the one and only but that's not right,” Lance confirmed. His smile slid away at the quiet in the back of his mind. He looked around, at the dark cockpit around him. Reaching out with shaking hands, he gripped the controls a bit too tightly and gave it an experimental jerk. Nothing happened, the lights remaining dark, the consoles and controls unresponsive. He looked up at Zarkon's ship, eyes wide in terror. “What happened? Did you guys – some kind of black lighting?”

“Magic,” Allura answered, her voice weak. “Some sort of attack that was entirely magic.”

“The Komar,” Kolivan explained, voice breathless. Lance felt himself tense up, before gulping and nodding. He kept reaching out, kept searching for Blue. “There were rumors that Zarkon was seeking to create a weapon that could draw quintessence directly from a planet. It seems he succeeded.”

“What now?” Keith groaned. “We can't move.”

Lance opened his mouth to reply when Taka– Shiro beat him to it.

“Don't worry. We can get out of this.” Shiro sounded tense, sounded like there was something more going on, like he was distracted, almost.

“You are true paladins now,” Allura added, her voice stronger. “Reach out to one another, reach through your bonds to your lions and awaken them!”

Lance reached, reached, and felt the barest hints of Blue. He almost cried in relief, and coaxed her along, her the tide and him the moon. He pulled her along, had her ebb, had her grow, and grinned viciously as she came alive, the roar of the ocean echoed as she roared alongside the other lions.

Above, there was movement on the command ship, A massive bay door opening, purple light spilling out of it, then darkened as something moved within.

“Uh, guys?” Lance spoke up, not taking his eyes away, even as he kept half a mind on the rapidly forming hurricane that was Voltron. “We've got incoming!”

“Zarkon,” Ta– Shiro growled.

What came out looked like Zarkon. It was massive, equal in size to Voltron, and had wings made of free-floating feathers. Zarkon's face appeared on it, his gaze coming down upon Voltron as he began to move. Lance shivered.

“Move!” Allura cried, and Lance watched, horrified, as the wings shifted to become a shield as the Castle fired a massive laser. Zarkon was knocked back, his robeast – could it even be called a robeast, if it was Zarkon within it – slamming into the lower floors of the command ship. Debris scattered, joining the rest of the area around Voltron.

Zarkon's shield, however, proved strong, reflecting the Castle's laser away, and then back at the Castle. Allura screamed before the comms went silent.

“Allura!” Shiro screamed as Lance bowed forward. He couldn't cry, couldn't allow himself to feel anything.

“What do we do?” Hunk asked.

“We fight,” Keith replied, his tone firm. “Shiro?”

“Keith's right,” Shiro agreed, his voice strained. “We give it our all. This is where it ends. Zarkon's empire will go down. Voltron will defeat him. Five hearts acting as one. Are you with me?”

“Yeah!” Pidge cried, the Green Lion roaring with them.

“Always,” Keith answered alongside the Red Lion's roar.

“Yep!” Hunk agreed, Yellow roaring out determination.

“Let's go down swinging,” Lance declared, and felt Blue roar alongside the roaring of his heart.

Together, they formed Voltron's sword, and moved. Zarkon pulled out his own sword, jagged and a glowing purple, and lunged at Voltron.

Their blades met in open space, the shockwave sending debris scattering. Zarkon hammered at them, a constant onslaught that they gladly met and parried. Voltron slashed, pulled away for some distance, and Green fired a laser at Zarkon. The blast hit his shield, but sent him further away.

Off to the side, the Castle floated, dark and silent. Across from it, the Galra command ship charged the Komar, the black orb growing in size as it charged.

“Move!” Shiro commanded, and Lance moved with Hunk, pulling them out of the way of the oncoming attack. One blast from that, and he had been sent to another universe – Lance didn't want to discover what a second blast could do.

Zarkon lashed out with a kick, sending Voltron tumbling, and they growled, paladins and lions alike, as they righted and undid the sword, replacing it with Yellow's cannon. As one, they targeted Zarkon, firing everything at him. He stopped his onslaught, wings coming forward to act as shield, and Lance felt himself snarl as the attack did nothing.

Zarkon came forward again, faster, and a whip lashed out, brimming with energy. It slammed into Voltron, and Lance screamed in pain, screamed as the hurricane came undone. Voltron fell apart into five lions, and Lance righted himself, firing several blasts at Zarkon.

“Sound off!” Lance barked, not taking his eyes off of Zarkon, who circled at a distance.

“I'm alive,” Pidge growled.

“Not dead,” Hunk groaned.

“I'm good,” Keith replied. “Shiro?”

After a moment, Lance felt a cold dread seep into his gut. He chanced a glance at the Black Lion, which looked active, but she wasn't moving.

“Shiro?” Lance called out, his voice wavering, before he coughed. Harder, he asked, “Shiro?”

“The hit must have knocked him out,” Pidge concluded, and there was blaster fire from Keith as Zarkon was stopped in his approach. The Red Lion flew toward Black, Keith wanting to go to Shiro, before stopping.

“Then we got a job,” Lance glared at Zarkon. “We protect Shiro and Black. Let's use everything we have!”

Lance surged forward, firing off an ice beam that got shielded – and wasn't enough to keep the shield in place. Keith was right behind him, firing off his own heat blast, before a massive cannon formed atop Red's back, firing at Zarkon's shield. Hunk followed behind, while Green sped by before vanishing, Pidge opting for a stealth attack.

Together, they battled Zarkon. Together, they protected Black and Shiro.

Zarkon batted away Hunk's attack, managed to grab Green by the tail and fling her at Keith before firing the energy whip and scattering Hunk and Lance. Lance felt Blue rage, and screamed as the sonic cannon formed, sending out a concussive burst that knocked Zarkon back. Green's plant ray joined in, curling around Zarkon's shield and seeking to hold it in place. Lance followed along with an ice ray, recalling how Takashi and Pidge had done the same to keep Taujeer from breaking apart. Hunk came from behind Zarkon, his mega claws out and slashing at Zarkon, while Keith's cannon fired at the shield.

Together, it should have been enough to fell anything else.

Instead, Zarkon bore the attacks without a scratch.

“What do we do?” Pidge cried as they tried to go invisible again, and Zarkon broke through the plant ray that threatened to pin his arms in place. He kicked Pidge away before grabbing at Hunk and throwing Yellow, Keith having to move fast to dodge. “Nothing we do is working!”

“We keep fighting!” Lance cried, even as he sent out another volley of laser blasts and fired his ice beam. “We can't let Zarkon get to Black! We protect Shiro!”

The attacks were shielded, and Lance grimaced as Pidge and Hunk dodged the reflected lasers. Hunk shrieked when Keith sped by, his jawblade formed, and Pidge returned fire at Zarkon. The lasers were dodged as Zarkon grabbed Red by the scruff of the neck and flung Keith into Lance.

Zarkon was too powerful. They needed Voltron. They needed Black. They needed Shiro.

Movement came from behind Lance, and he watched Black come alive, roaring. Black's wings unfurled, and Lance stared, transfixed, as Black vanished, reappearing on the other side of Zarkon, who shuddered.

“I have Zarkon's Bayard,” Shiro breathed through the comms.

“You mean you have your Bayard,” Keith corrected, and Lance could hear the smile on his face. His own cheeks hurt from grinning, and he reached out as Shiro gave the order to form Voltron.

“Form sword,” Shiro commanded, and Lance's grin faltered, just for a moment, as he felt the thrum of Shiro fighting against Zarkon, felt the crushing presence that was Zarkon pressing down upon Black and Shiro – and Voltron.

But the hurricane could not be stopped, and Voltron moved forward, sword drawn. Zarkon drew his own sword, and the two rushed to meet one another. Lance felt determination fill him, felt it bleed into and from him, and he screamed with the others, screamed as they broke Zarkon's sword, stabbing through it and through the armor.

For a brief moment, everything as silent.

And then Zarkon moved, reaching out and taking hold of Voltron's head. He screamed, and Lance could hear it, could feel the muted pulse of Zarkon's last-ditch attempt at controlling Black, at controlling Voltron.

He also felt, along with the others, the moment Shiro activated his Bayard. Voltron's sword burst into flame, pulling out into massive slash that had Zarkon reeling, the armor glowing and glowing and–

Voltron came apart in the explosion, and Lance blinked through the rapidly-vanishing white spots, blinked out at Zarkon's ruined armor.

“Did we do it?” he breathed, hardly daring to believe it. “Is he down?”

“Paladins!” Coran cried, and the Castle moved away from the command ship, which was lighting back up. It was coming back online, and they had to move. “Quickly! I have Allura and the other Blades. Retreat back to the Castle!”

“Shiro's not moving!” Keith called out, and Lance didn't look back as he and Hunk returned to the Castle, Pidge and Keith behind him, carrying Black inside.

He felt the Castle move, shuddering through a wormhole, and landed Blue in her hangar. Climbing out, Lance ran out into the main hangar, where Black lay, eyes dark. Lance met up with the others, getting pulled into a hug by Hunk as Keith ran past, toward the Black Lion.

“Lance!” Hunk cried, spinning Lance around. “I missed you! I mean, I know you were still here, technically, and that he was kind of you, but it wasn't the same.”

Lance barked out a laugh, hugging Hunk back. “It's good to be back. I missed being here.”

“I am glad you are returned,” Allura said, smiling – although it didn't manage to reach her eyes. “The Castle wasn't the same without you.”

“Guys!” Keith yelled, standing at the edge of Black's mouth. He looked distraught. “Shiro still isn't answering, and Black won't open up.”

Lance patted Hunk, dropping down to the floor as he ran. “Come on, I know a way in!”

Clicking his heels, Lance launched up onto Black's snout, and again onto Black's head, everyone a step behind. Coran nodded as he and Allura were carried up by Hunk. “Brilliant, Lance! The emergency hatch.”

Lance pried open the hatch, and was nearly shoved out of the way as Keith jumped down into Black. Lance followed, along with the others, and together they entered the dark cockpit.

“What?” Keith stopped up short, staring down at the seat in confusion. “I don't – what?”

Lance froze as he saw the empty chair, saw the bayard still locked into place. He felt the others stop up short behind him, felt his chest constrict. “He's gone.”

“Where did he go?” Hunk asked, looking at Allura and Coran. “We didn't leave him behind, did we?”

“No!” Keith cried out. “We didn't. He would've come up on the scans.”

“There was a lot of debris from Zarkon exploding,” Pidge reasoned, sounding calm even as their voice shook from barely-restrained emotion. “All we need to do is go back and do a lifescan search.”

“The Castle is barely functional,” Coran gravely replied. “It will be some time before we can get it back into full working order.”

“Fuck.” Lance sank to his knees, his chest constricting tighter and tighter. His heart was shoving itself up his throat even as his intestines twisted around themselves and the tears fell. All around him, the others stiffened. He couldn't breathe, his chest constricting tighter with each exhale. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!”

Chapter Text

Entering the Yggis galaxy, Lance shivered with anticipation. Zarkon's command ship loomed against the dull space around it, the only illumination dull reflections of the distant galaxies surrounding them. He spotted Keith fly into the main hangar of the Castle before shooting off a moment later.

“Form Voltron,” Shiro said, and Lance grunted, his grip tightening knuckle-white on Blue's controls. This was it; this was where it all ended for Zarkon. He'd always figured it would take years before they reached this point in the fight against the Galra, not months. Even if this wasn't his universe, even if there were still months, if not years, before the Empire was truly broken apart, it was still astounding to know.

It still brought him hope for his own future, in his own universe.

“The system will reset in 20 of your Earth minutes,” Kolivan calmly explained over the comms. “You must move swiftly. With the aid of Coran, I have uploaded the schematics to your scanners.”

“There are four major targets throughout the ship,” Allura continued, sounding weary. Lance watched as targets popped up over his screen. “The weapons systems, shield generators, engines, and the bridge. Since Zarkon is our primary target, it is advised that you strike the bridge last. We will take him and leave the Galra unable to fight back or follow.”

“Let's move! Keith, form sword!” Shiro grinned, and Lance worked in tandem with Hunk, Blue and Yellow moving together as Voltron pulled out the sword, slashing wide along one side, then down along the other. Green fired a laser at various smaller weapons locations, and Lance could feel Voltron thrumming in satisfaction, could feel his own trepidation, feel his own elation, his own nervousness, echoed back at him from the others.

Explosions dotted the command ship in Voltron's wake, and Lance grinned as they struck the main ion cannon, crushing it underfoot and leaving behind a massive crater. However fast the Galra were at fixing their ships, not even this kind of wreckage could be fixed easily.

Voltron slid down to the lower part of the command ship, the bridge fixed directly above them, and Lance wondered if Zarkon was watching helplessly as they targeted the shield generators, as Voltron's sword sliced through them.

Below, the ship lit up a bright purple, and Lance froze, staring in horror as a massive black orb began to form far below them.

“Uh, guys?” Hunk asked, nervousness seeping from his voice and bleeding into Voltron. “Are you seeing this?”

“Is it an emergency power thing?” Pidge growled. “I thought the virus was supposed to take it all down!”

“It isn't reading as mechanical!” Coran cried.

“It's magic,” Allura gasped.

“Oh no,” Kolivan breathed. “The Komar.”

Black lightning struck out at Voltron, and Lance screamed in pain as much as Blue, as much as the others, as much as Voltron. He was being pulled in all directions, it felt like, from his body, from Blue, from Voltron.

The world warped, glitching into an empty purple expanse. Lance landed on the ground, wheezing, and looked around wildly. He spotted, a short distance away, someone in the blue armor – himself.

“This is it?” he heard his other self say, and his heart ached at how hurt his other self sounded, how sad and heartbroken. The other Lance scrubbed at his face. “I'm going back? For real? No take-backs?”

Lance coughed, and stopped when he noticed his armor – and it was his armor, the black gleaming back at him from beneath the faint purple glow. Lance crowed in victory, more than glad to be back in his own body, more than glad to be back wearing his armor.

He froze, looking over at the other Lance in surprise, a look of shock mirrored back at him. Lance saw his other self grimace into a half-hearted smile that didn't reach past his mouth, and felt his own elation die out. He was going back to his own universe, true, but it also meant that the other Lance was going back to his.

The other Lance sniffled, and the smile became smaller, became sadder to match his eyes, before falling away completely. Lance felt the urge to say something, say anything. He needed the other Lance to know that everything was going to–

“Takashi loves you,” the other Lance blurted out, and gave out another weak smile. Lance's heart clenched, painfully, at the mention of Shiro – of his Shiro, who, apparently, wanted to be called Takashi – and ached even worse at how the other Lance kept feeling the need to smile through the pain. He knew, though, how much it meant, to smile and joke and laugh and make everyone think that he wasn't hurt as much as he seemed, that nothing stuck to him or fazed him. There was no way Lance could ever hide from himself. “Keith's part Galra. I don't – I guess that means the same in my universe, but – they're proud of you. You have a great team. You're fighting Zarkon too, and they're going to need–”

Lance moved, pulling his other self into a hug, one hand moving to cradle the other Lance's head close. His own team was proud of him? He already knew that, already lived and breathed it. He wasn't the one that needed to hear that, wasn't the one who needed to know that.

This other Lance deserved to know that, deserved to hear that. Lance needed to tell his other self everything that he had needed to hear.

“I'm so proud of you,” he murmured into the other Lance's hair, his voice thick with unshed tears, thick with so much emotion he felt like he was going to burst. The words came from his heart, came from a truth that had been building since the first moment he woke up in Blue in that other universe. They were a truth that the other Lance needed to know, needed to carry with himself no matter how bad it ever got. “You're so brave, and so strong, and deserve so much.”

Lance had done everything he could to fix things, had done all that he could, given all that he had, to make a place for himself, for this other Lance, in that team.

He deserved a team that cared about him, a team that trusted him, that had his back as often as he had theirs. He deserved friends, deserved love, deserved people he could stand beside and call family.

Lance hoped that he had accomplished even one of those things for his other self.

“I don't want to go back,” his other self whispered, and Lance shuddered, tears beginning to fall. He could hear it, could hear the prayer, the wish, and could hear the resignation at how futile it was, to want. “I want to stay. I don't want to go back.”

Lance stifled a sob.

“I'm sorry,” he offered up, wishing he could do more, wishing he could say more. “I tried to fix things. I tried to make things better for you. I–” he swallowed another sob, “I'm so sorry. You don't deserve–”

The sob broke out, and he managed to cut it off halfway through, but the words couldn't leave him, wouldn't leave him. Instead, Lance pulled his other self closer, hugged him tighter, hoping that it could say what he couldn't.

“I did my best,” the other Lance said, and Lance wanted to laugh, because why would he even have to say that – they were a great leader, and it went without saying that they did their best and more than earned it. “Respect Black. Tell Takashi I–”

The world shifted, and Lance's grip on his other self fell into wind. He fell back into Black, and smiled as he heard the worried voices of his team over the comms.

“I'm back,” he croaked, before coughing the frog out of his throat. Smaller, and sounding much less hoarse, Lance repeated, “I'm back. The boss is back in Black.”

“Boss?” Pidge's relieved grin could be heard over the comms. “It's great to have you back!”

“Lance! Thank goodness you're back!” Hunk cried, and sounded like he was crying. “You didn't answer and for a moment there we thought–”

“It doesn't matter right now,” Shiro – Takashi, Lance corrected. It was Takashi now. “You're back. You're not– you're still here.”

“He'll miss you,” Lance said, his voice quiet. He reached out for Black in the back of his mind, but there was nothing. “We spoke in the astral plane. You did so good, Takashi. I– I love you.”

He froze, the words registering at the same time as a presence washed over him like a tidal wave.

“Lance, I–” Takashi hesitated, before gasping. “What– something's happening in the command ship.”

“Zarkon,” Lance gritted out, glaring up at a huge robot flew out of the open bay.

“Is that... a gundam?” Takashi asked in disbelief.

“We need to move!” Keith growled.

“Lance, I love you too,” Takashi blurted.

“Can we not have you confess your love when we might be about to die?” Pidge snarled. “We can't move our lions!”

“Wake them!” Allura commanded. “You are true paladins now – your bonds with your lions surpass the Komar. Awaken your lions and become Voltron once more!”

“You heard the Princess – dig deep and wake up these beauties!” Lance grinned, reaching out for Black, even as he felt Zarkon's gaze turn to him, turn toward Black. Lance's grin turned sharp as he shouldered Zarkon's interest, pulling all of Zarkon's might onto himself. Black was needed for Voltron as much as himself, and there couldn't be a Voltron if Zarkon was pressing down on her like he was. “Come on, girl, where are you? It's time to wake up.”

In the back of his mind, there was a flicker of a breeze, before the gale winds of the sky came alive, roaring as Black came alive, both all around Lance and within the back of his mind. Lance let his grin slip away into a grim line as Voltron came back together, even as Zarkon's pressure increased. He felt Black prod at him, worried, and he sent back reassurance even as she picked up some of the load, shouldering Zarkon's desire and shoving it away.

“Let's move!” Lance called out. “Put some distance while we finish waking up.”

Voltron went into full reverse, Hunk and Takashi pushing the thrusters to their limit. Zarkon shot after them, and Lance gaped as his wings curled into shield, blocking the Castle's laser. It ricocheted off of the shield, but not before Zarkon was pushed back against the command ship, sending up debris. The beam reflected, turning as Zarkon shifted, and Lance listened in horror as the Castle's attack was turned on itself, Allura's screams filling the comms before the Castle went silent.

“Allura?” Lance prodded, tentative. “Coran?”

“They're not responding,” Takashi said, his voice shaky.

“Zarkon's moving,” Pidge yelled.

“Form sword!” Lance ordered. “And Pidge, shield!”

Zarkon pulled out his own sword, slashing at Voltron. The shield blocked, and Lance grit his teeth at the sensation of Zarkon pressing against his mind, pressing for control of Black. Voltron slashed in return, but Zarkon's wings blocked it, before Voltron pushed forward, pressing Zarkon back toward the ship. They crashed into it, adding more debris and damaging the command ship further, Voltron pulling away before Zarkon pressed forward again.

The shield was recalled, Pidge firing a laser blast instead that Zarkon evaded. They blocked his attack with the sword, resulting in a concussive blast that sent both flying away from one another.

“Pidge, lasers!” Lance shouted, and they fired at Zarkon, forcing him to block. Zarkon retaliated with an energy whip, and Lance screamed as Voltron was ripped apart, the world going dark.

He woke slowly, listening as Takashi directed everyone in attacking Zarkon.

Lance watched Pidge fire their plant cannon at Zarkon's arm, the massive vines crawling and curling around it while Takashi fired his ice ray. Zarkon snapped his arm out, breaking the vines and grabbing Hunk out of his strafing attack with his mega claws. Zarkon tossed Hunk toward Pidge while he grabbed Keith by the scruff of Red's neck, flinging him into Takashi. Blue dodged, right into Zarkon's hands, and Lance growled in tandem with Black as he heard Takashi's scream of pain when Blue was used to batter Red away.

Lance felt himself connect with Black, felt Black move as an extension of himself, felt himself move as an extension of Black. This was their team, their family, fighting to protect them, fighting a battle that they should be a part of, that they should be fighting too.

He felt as much as knew when he charged Zarkon, that Black's wings had extended out, and space warped as they moved beyond, crossing into and through Zarkon's ship. Lance grinned as he crossed through Zarkon, feeling a weight in his hand as Zarkon's Bayard settled into his grip.

He looked at it, saw the purple and black and jagged points fade away into the softer rounded shape, into the white that it should be.

“I have Zarkon's Bayard,” Lance breathed, feeling Black bristle.

“Your Bayard?” Keith corrected, and Lance grinned.

“My Bayard,” Lance amended, and felt himself and Black preen at the phrase. “Let's finish this. Form Voltron.”

Voltron came together easier than ever, and they pulled out the sword, Black's wings unfurling, warping space, Voltron sliding in close as they stabbed at Zarkon, stabbed through his armor.

Lance grunted, feeling Zarkon press down upon him, saw as much as felt Zarkon grip Voltron's head. He almost heard Zarkon yelling, and shouldered the brunt of the attack so Black wouldn't, so Black could keep her focus and energies on Voltron. As much as it was a shared brunt, Lance wouldn't let this attack touch Black, wouldn't let Zarkon's final reach hurt her any more than she had already been hurt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Black's access port slid up, and Lance knew what he had to do.

Slamming his Bayard into the access port, Lance screamed as Voltron's sword exploded into flame, as Zarkon's armor exploded, as everything turned white.

When it faded, Lance looked around in shock – he wasn't in Black anymore, wasn't anywhere close to Voltron. All that he could see was a blurry purple, his vision still aching from the explosion, his head still hurting from Zarkon's pressing presence.

“What?” he looked around frantically, reached out for Black, only to feel the barest hints of her against the back of his mind before even that vanished. “Where am I? Black? Takashi? Anybody?”