Lover Boy - A Voltron Fiction

Chapter 6

Blue clearly wasn't going to answer. 

Lance had lost her, forever.

Thanks, team. He wiped his face again, But I guess I can't call you that anymore...  

Lance carried his supplies to a spare ship. Food, clothing, pictures, journals, there were so many... He'd overestimated the pod's space. "These can go," he brushed away the pictures, "Not like I need this anymore, anyway." He threw his old diary across the room and winced as it hit the hanger wall and made a loud bang. 

The next half hour was a mess of thinning down supplies and parting with old possessions. Lance didn't have enough space for his makeup, and an old sketch that Keith had made for him seemed useless now. 

The pod was an old model, not yet updated by Pidge and Hunk, but it would do. Lance don his armour (one thing that he refused to let the 'team' keep) and took some deep breaths, his eyes were still watering.

Now what? Lance thought. Now, you get the Hell out before anyone finds you, and go to the farthest planet that you can find. Perfect.

Flipping the engine switch and putting his foot on the pedal, Lance thrust the controls forward and finally left the Castle of Lions, for good. It felt exhilarating, finally being free from the team.

But at the same time, it felt like half of Lance's heart was replaced by a gaping hole. His home, his protection, and his only friend were all taken away in the same day, replaced by bitterness and a need for a new life, a new start. 

Cruising space is lonely.  

Lance had already flown for 2 hours before he realized that he forgot to look back at the Castle for the last time, his home for the past 3 years. 

"I don't need to look back." Lance hissed between his teeth, "I don't need them anymore."

Well seems like they never needed YOU either.  The thoughts had gotten stronger. And worse, they were his only company now.

Lance set the pod to autopilot and rubbed his temples. "Argh. Just shut up." he reclined the pilot seat and lay down, "I need sleep. Tomorrow's another day."

(TIMESKIP: ... A Week Has Passed ...)

The entire pod seemed way too small, and worse, he was running out of air. Lance's dumb luck had landed him in an empty stretch of stars, and there weren't any planets for miles and miles and miles. Probably. 

And cruising space is lonely. 

Lance pulled himself off of the floor and hunched over, coughing. "Sure wish I took an updated pod, at least I'd have oxygen." 

Lance pulled out a scrap journal he kept and started writing. How he had gotten too attached to the team, how his head felt woozy, how he yearned to hear anyone's voice besides his own. Writing always was his way of being sane.  

Before he could reach the end of the page, however, his vision became blurry, his head pounded, and all of a sudden, he started gasping for air! The coughs came afterwards, and in a last feat of desperation, Lance reached for the radio. Maybe he could send out a distress signal? Maybe the team was looking for him, they could find him!

But it was too late, and he hit the floor.